#which did not help w the tiredness

[nxuvillette]

“WANT ME TO FILL YOU UP?”

BREEDING W/ GENSHIN MEN

synopsis: nothing sounds better than being filled with your boyfriend’s cum.

❥- including : arataki itto, neuvillette, kamisato ayato, wriothesley

❥- note : i honestly kind of liked these !! i hope you all enjoy + reblogs are appreciated :)

content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, breeding kink, creampies, mentions of pregnancy (neuvillette , itto , ayato), praising, use of pet names (baby , my love , princess) soft sex (ayato), cockwarming (itto), heavy mentions of cum

♡ ARATAKI ITTO

itto always loved the idea of possibly knocking you up or simply just filling your pretty cunt with all of his cum. it was the hottest thing he could ever imagine. it didn’t help that his cock was so thick that it would almost split you in half whenever the two of you became intimate with each other. he just couldn’t help himself. you were so tight and warm it’s like he was begging to fill you up.

he couldn’t hold back his grunts while he rutted into your cunt. you had been both at it for almost an hour now, and with itto’s stamina, he didn’t show any signs of tiredness. sex with him was always intense and fast. he knew what to do to make your body crumble and shake with so much desire. 

you tugged on the white strands of hair that draped down his shoulders. you were so fucking close. itto could sense it, too. your walls were becoming increasingly tighter with every thrust and it was making it hard for him to resist you. you were so fucking pretty. you took his cock better than anybody else and seeing your cunt suck him in was the biggest turn on. “i-itto! ‘m close!” you cried, throwing your head back onto the pillow behind you. 

he chuckled, spreading your legs apart even further to enter deeper into you. “heh, wanna cum, baby? fuck.. i wanna fill you up so bad..” he nibbled on the shell of your ear. “want to carry my babies..? you’d be so pretty with my cum dripping out of you..” 

your ankles then locked around his torso, giving him those desperate eyes he loved so dearly. your pussy clamped around his cock, making him shudder a bit at the sensation. “y-yes! god, itto, yes! fill me with your cum!” you begged.

that was all he needed to hear. itto’s pace suddenly became almost animalistic as he fucked you through your orgasm. your cunt squelched and made some of the most lewd noises, which was like music to his ears. his balls slapped against your puffy clit, aching for that delicious release. it took several more thrusts, but he eventually reached his orgasm. thick, white cum filled your womb. itto swore to god you milked him dry with how much he came. 

he stayed in that position for a moment, making sure that none of his seed leaked out of you. “wanna go again..? i wanna make sure you’re pregnant..” he smirked, nodding his head at you.

♡ NEUVILLETTE

he wasn’t sure what it was about fucking his cum into you that was so hot.

neuvillette had assumed it was probably a dominance thing. the thrill of also possibly getting you pregnant with his child made him harder than a rock. he knew if that day ever did come, you would look absolutely gorgeous with a rounded belly and swollen feet. 

it had been a busy afternoon inside the palais mermonia. countless documents had been handed over to the chief justice himself, so his hands had been full the entire day. he was exhausted, to say the least, so when he saw your pretty face walking into his office he couldn’t help but smile. you were such a relief to his difficult day, and you decided to help him out with all of those stressors he had all day.

your body was sprawled out on the desk neuvillette did his work on. his papers had been pushed to the side so none of them were ruined by the activities you two were indulging in. his thick cock bullied your walls, making your vision hazy from how he pressed against your g-spot. you could tell your lover was in need of this. he was rough and he had this determination swimming in his eyes while he fucked you mercilessly. 

“n-neuvillette! oh! right there!” you sobbed, clenching onto his broad shoulders.

you were such a fucking sight. neuvillette couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world at that very moment. “keep saying it, my love, keep calling for me..” he began to play with the sensitive bud between your legs. “want me to fill you up..? make you a mommy to my children..?”

the idea flowed into your head and although it was hot, it also left this swell in your chest. he wanted you to bear his children and be his forever. that’s all you ever wanted. “yes.. please, neuvillette..!” you whined.

he smiled before grabbing your legs and pressing them against the desk. the tired wood began to creak at the constant movement of your bodies, but neuvillette didn’t give a single concern. the angle was deep, so deep that you swore he was fucking your cervix with how fast his thrusts were. your cries echoed across the walls loud enough that surely someone outside heard, but no one would ever dare to interrupt the chief justice and his lover.

neuvillette’s hips stuttered one last time and his orgasm hit him like a wave. his cum spurted into your walls, blanketing them with white. there was so much that he swore some of it leaked onto the floor. 

you could hardly move, but judging by neuvillette’s expression, he looked like he had another round left in him.

♡ KAMISATO AYATO

being in a relationship with ayato of all people meant that there were constantly many eyes set on you. you were with someone that had such a high status in inazuma. it was not much of a surprise when you would see people staring at you in public, or giving you respectful bows.

ayato fell in love with you for many reasons. he adored you so much that he wanted to take that next step and start a family with you. he wanted your love to be permanent in his life. 

he had fantasized about it for quite a while. the image of you pregnant with his child and showing off your belly to everyone on inazuma. he wanted nothing more than that, so after a long day of taking on commissions for the clan, he decided to unwind with you in bed that evening. all he could think about all day was coming home to your sweet smiling face. 

your legs were thrown over his shoulders. ayato’s fingers were laced with yours while he pumped his cock into your needy hole. you were so beautiful at that moment. your glossy lips that were parted open with sweet moans slipping through them, and those pretty eyes that kept crossing every moment he reached your g-spot. he truly was blessed to have such a gorgeous wife.

“you’re so beautiful, princess, look at you..” he whispered, lovingly. his free hand went to trace along your figure, drinking in the sight of your sweaty body. “you’d look even more beautiful with my baby in you.. yeah? a nice heir for me?”

you shuddered at the thought of that. you knew for a while that ayato wanted someone to take over the clan someday when he wouldn’t be able to hold the reigns anymore. it sounded so pleasant. his cum being inside you and knocking you up turned you on so much. “yes.. ayato! let’s have a b-baby!” you whined, nodding eagerly at his request. 

he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at your words. he was going to make sure you had the best pregnancy ever. ayato then began to speed up his pace. your cunt was squeezing his cock so perfectly he was losing himself within you. how could you be so flawless? 

he groaned loudly as he let go inside of you. a warmth spread across your tummy as his cum filled your womb. it felt so amazing. you honestly craved it more than you thought you would. 

ayato smiled to himself. he knew he made the right choice that day when he first met you.

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was always open to trying new things with you, with your consent of course. some things were tried and failed, but the one thing that always remained was his breeding kink. he enjoyed seeing your pretty cunt leak with white cum after he was done with you. 

you decided to make a surprise visit to the fortress of meropide. it wasn’t unusual for you to pop in and speak with your boyfriend for a little while when he had the time, but your visit lasted a little longer than you had anticipated. 

you were sitting on wriothesley’s lap. his dick was drilling into you at such a rough pace you had to hold onto him to make sure you didn’t fall. his hands were both set on your waist where he bounced you on his thick cock. his icy blue eyes were watching your every facial expression. he loved seeing you like that. all fucked out and drooling over the fact that he was making you feel like you were on the moon.

he groped the globe of your ass tightly. you could hardly keep your moans contained from how great the pleasure was. “wriothesley! ah! i’m so close..!” your nails dug into his shoulder blades. 

he started to nibble at your neck, leaving a few marks on your skin. “yeah..? fuck, me too, baby.” he pressed his forehead against yours, making eye contact with you. “want me to cum inside you..? fill you nice and good..?” 

you whimpered at the mere thought of that. you honestly loved his breeding kink more than he did. “yes.. fuck, wrio, i need you..!” you grind your hips into him to show how desperate you were for him.

wriothesley then took your hips, holding them in place while he slammed upwards into you. the wind was practically knocked out of your lungs at how aggressive his thrusts became. he was hitting every delicious spot inside of you that made your mind become instantly foggy. your head fell onto his shoulder. you couldn’t help but moan into his ear about how badly you wanted him to knock you up. how he’d make such a great daddy to your baby.

without warning, wriothesley came. his cum leaked into your pussy, making a mess on his cock from the mix of your and his cum. he could care less, though. 

“you’re gonna make a nice momma.. i just know it, princess.” he cooed, kissing your face.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work ! #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #arataki itto x reader #itto x reader #itto smut #arataki itto smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x you #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato smut #kamisato ayato smut #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut

[anadiasmount]

day in the life w bf!jude but your sick and not well/feeling so down. jude being all caring and protecting while you are mentally drained and hurt (like my throat LMAO) he’s all taking care of you and immediately on bf protection mode. when you wake up, to when you’re both out, to when you’re both visiting his moms, showering, to when it’s time for bed . then before bed he’s holding you so comfortably, endlessly asking if your okay or if you need anything or to take your thoughts on the pain away, asking you want to watch something w him?

would be the biggest and softest bf ever :(( NEED HIM NOW 😔😔

it was strange to jude you hadn’t woken up early, in the kitchen either on your online class or making your gifted smoothies. it was almost 11am when jude returned from his morning run, walking into your shared room where your were completely tucked in your sheets, head barely peaking as you slept.

jude frowned, walking quietly and sitting on the bed, where you didn’t budge. “y/n? darling? you okay?” he whispered, brushing his fingers on your cheek and tucking your messy and all over the place hair back. you groaned turning away from him, ducking under the covers, “let me sleep! it’s so early jude!” you complain.

“it’s almost 11:30 love…” jude reclaimed, running his hand and massaging the middle of your bare back. “so? still early…” you tried to defend but ended up sneezing and sniffling. “are you sick?” asked jude, immediately opening your night desk drawer and looking for cold and flu pills. it explained your mood and tiredness.

“shh stop talking… my head hurts really bad jude,” you whined, covering your ears. you hated being sick, and it was super rare when you did. though when you were, it was the worst. constant headaches, runny nose all day, congested nose and throat, and body chills, aches all over, which made it hard to do anything. “sit up for me, i have some medicine,” jude ordered listening to your protest but doing as he said.

he opened the bottled water, placing the 2 pills in your mouth and helping you so the water wouldn’t fall or spill. your eyes remained closed, knowing the light would cause more pain. jude gently rubbed your eyes, and brought you to his chest. “promise you, you’ll feel better soon…” he placed a kiss on your temple, rubbing the sides of your arms, “especially if you take a hot bath and eat something.”

“i’m not hungry,” you dismissed shaking your head, “i know but the medicine won’t have any affect if you have no food here,” jude tickled your tummy hearing you let out a small giggle. “drink more water,” he helped you again, seeing as you almost drank it all. “cmon i have to shower too, i’ll help you baby,” he picked and helped you to the bath.

jude softly scrubbed your skin and washed your hair, paying close attention to you being soft with his movements. he loved to take care of you, returning the affection especially when you did it to him after his games or long travels. he massaged your back and neck, feeling the tension go away after. “it feels so nice jude,” you praise, wanting to return the favor but he wouldn’t allow you, saying he didn’t want you to lift a finger.

jude then also helped with your hair care and skincare, knowing you would cause a fuss if you didn’t at least have any moisturizer on. helping you change into some loose and comfortable clothes after rubbing your skin with lotion. “do you want some herbal tea your mom brought us? it will make you be able to digest some food and clear your sinus?” jude spoke softly, seeing as you nodded.

while he prepared and made some soup, he brought you a warm blanket and your tea, setting it down along with some cookies, and antibiotics incase you had an infection or virus. “do you need any help?” you pout feeling bad as he was doing all this work after his game the day before. “no love, i have it handled. i just want you to rest okay? you need to or else how are you going to get better?” he quoted your words when he was injured. you let out a small smile, “thank you, handsome,” your leaned up and hugged him tight.

“we still have stuff to do. we need to go grocery shopping and visit your mom, i promised her to join her later today,” you recalled, sitting up and holding your head. “you can’t go out like this!-”

“i wasn’t asking. i was telling you. i have put it off for so long and there’s barely any groceries left. it will be quick and easy, same with your mom! she needs one on one girl talk and i haven’t seen her in so long,” you tell jude to where he rolls his eyes at your stubbornness. “one on one girl talk? about what?”

“it’s called one on one girl talk for a reason jude… we can leave a little later okay? i’m feeling way better compared to the morning,” you admit, standing up but jude ushers you to sit down, taking your mug to the sink and washing it for you. “i can’t talk this one out of you right?”

“nope,” you deadpanned.

jude made your warm soup, organizing and cleaning up the kitchen so it wouldn’t be a mess. writing down stuff that was missing from the refrigerator, pantry, and other necessities, making note to also refill your medicines. he insisted you wear a jacket, knowing the grocery store would be cold and he couldn’t risk you getting a deep cough and sickness.

“what else is left?” jude asked, placing different veggies in their bags into the cart. he was in charge of bagging and you crossing off items on the list. “new toothpaste, cases of waters and juice, and your snacks,” you read off, following jude as he filled the bottom with water and juice like you said.

“i know i can be annoying when im sick, but thank you for taking care of me,” you said, feeling overwhelmed with joy and happiness to have a boyfriend like jude. he was patient, loving, helping, and sooo protective. he wanted you to feel safe and cared for by his side and he never failed to do that.

“see that’s what we’re not going to do,” said jude when you rejected his kiss, he grabbed your face a placed a messy kiss on your lips. “don’t care if i get sick, just need you to know i’ll do anything for you okay? sick or not,” jude hugged you, as you waited in line to pay.

after returning home and unpacking, you took a small and well needed nap. jude doing some laundry and placing it where it goes, watering your plants and worked out. he also took you to his moms after you insisted, where you guys talked for hours and then did some re-arranging in the house. if there was one thing jude loved, it was watching his two favorite girls get along so well, sharing laughs and making new memories.

you fell asleep once again in the car ride home on jude’s lap, jude massaging your scalp where you fell into a deeper sleep. he carried you to the room again, changing you into a long sleeve and some shorts, also helping you brush your teeth and take the night pills for your cold and headache. “wait for me here okay? gonna make sure everything is off,” he kissed your head.

he brought back a warm blanket and waters, doing his own night routine before joining you in bed. you immediately looked and seemed for comfort on him, resting your side and head on his chest, eyes closing softly wanting to stay up with up. jude held you tight, so in love and infatuated with your beauty even when sick.

“how are you feeling?” jude asked, running his hand along your spine, tracing shapes, and holding you close to him. “mmm better, but my headache returned in the car… and before you worry, the medicine is helping though,” you reassured him, knowing he would be quick to jump out the bed to help you. you loved when he was clingy and just so protective like this. especially when it was about you. “i’m gonna be waking up every now and then to check in on you okay? if you don’t feel better by tomorrow we’re booking an appointment,” he said seriously.

“okay jude,” you nodded, your hand resting on his chest as you felt your sleep return again. it was a long night for you the day before, so sleep is what you planned to do this night, to catch up on it. “if you don’t feel good, just me me know okay? i don’t care if it’s the smallest pain or ache.”

“i promise i will jude.”

“do you need anything else before we go to sleep?” he whispered, “no jude. im right where i want to be,” you smiled, kissing his chest and then a longing kiss on his lips. “we can watch a movie in the mean time? your choice,” you relaxed in his hold, grabbing the remote for him. jude scrolled and scrolled for minutes, finding the perfect movie to end the hectic day.

not even 5 minutes in, you had fell asleep, brows pulled in and a small pout as you rested soundly. you tried to stay up for him but the medics had done it’s job and jude couldn’t complain. him to was tired, after watching a few more minutes he turned off the tv, charging your phones and bringing you up close to him, careful to not wake you.

“sweet dreams darling…”

#judey thoughts 5️⃣ #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

[lo1k-diamonds]

SX Seoul series | Namjoon entry 💜 Closer

GIF by namchyoon

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Namjoon and you were friends for years — he was your confidant, protector, and haven. You didn’t want to risk it, no matter what, but some things can’t be kept in the dark.

WORD COUNT: 8.2k

GENRE: friends to lovers, smut (it's lovemaking tbh)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: reader is shy and introverted, mentions of anxiety, being in the dark in an agitated crowd (reader is safe w/ NJ), fear of losing a friendship, porn w/ plot (lovemaking, or my version of it), unprotected sex (wrap it up), dry humping, riding, they're both shy and idiots in love but they make it 💜

A.N. Is this a slow burn? Am I searingly slowly taking you all on the journey that is kissing and feeling Kim Namjoon? Some could say there was no need to describe it in such detail. They would be wrong 💜

Someone called your name and you looked up.

“Come on! Don’t fall behind!”

You gasped mutely and rushed in between the ever-growing crowd to join your friends and coworkers atop the stairs. The line wasn’t too big tonight but you still preferred to stay close to them — no way you wanted to be left alone in a bar street in Itaewon in the middle of the night. You pressed your hands nervously, looking around while your friends laughed about something you didn’t hear. No, you didn’t want that. There could be weird people and drunk people, and you were the designated driver anyway—

“Hey!” 

You blinked at Juhyun through your glasses with big wide brown eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“Come along!” She sighed, extending her hand so you’d grab it, and you did with relief.

You gave your coat at the reception with a polite head bow, following closely after everyone. The noise hit your ribcage with the force of an alarm, making you grin with gritted teeth but you took a deep breath and hurried along. It wasn’t like you never went out, or had never been there before. SX Seoul had become the preferred club of people working in the industry, and so you found yourself with a vibrating ribcage and sweaty hands every once in a while. However, you did get anxious in crowded loud places like bars and clubs. An elbow sank into your side as you followed after Juhyun and despite the person’s apology and head bow, which you returned, you smiled with a hint of tiredness. The night had just begun.

You got set on the couches, saying hi to everyone you knew who was already there, and smoothly offered to help everyone get drinks. That was an easy way for you to get an alcohol-free drink early on and successfully avoid being offered drinks for a long while.

“Look who’s DJying tonight!”

You had sat near Juhyun after handing her a drink and smiled happily, engaging in light conversation.

“Didn’t you write his breakout music video?”

“Yeah, I did!” 

You smiled politely, a warm fuzzy feeling settling in your stomach — you might have not liked the constant background house beat that had you all screaming to be heard, but you did feel proud of your work. Of every concept you had written, every storyboard you had designed, and every screening you helped with that led you to where you were now — in a creative atmosphere surrounded by like-minded people who just wanted to bring joy and creativity to the world.

As the night continued, you were more and more comfortable, surrounded by people you knew. You didn’t think it could get better, but as soon as Namjoon arrived, you grinned from ear to ear and chuckled at your silliness.

“Hi everyone!” You instantly scooted over and made space for him to sit beside you and join in the conversation, yet as you tried to keep up, he leaned in, “Driving?”

You turned to him and smiled sheepishly, something he returned with a sweetness of his own. You had been friends forever; he knew the answer to his own question.

“Your hair,” he added. 

You blinked then felt for it over your shoulders and chest, trying to see in between psychedelic blinding lights if something had happened to it or something. 

“No! Just— It’s loose!”

You blinked again, pressing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, “Well, yeah.”

He smirked briefly, looking down before facing you again with a gentle puff, “It looks good!”

Your lashes batted once before someone asked for his attention, and just in time. You could feel the heat spreading from your chest to your cheeks and turned to sip at your drink seemingly absentmindedly.

He noticed? You didn’t know why it surprised you so much; Namjoon was an attentive friend. Caring too, he always noticed when something was going wrong or a project was difficult. He always offered to help you out, and you did the same. You had that kind of relationship — friendly and supportive. Of course, that didn’t mean he had to notice your hairstyle for tonight. You had just let go of your usual braids to something more casual — just loose over your shoulders. And now there you were, playing with the long hair locks over your chest like your heart wasn’t fluttering at the simplest interaction.

“Hey! Let’s dance!”

You nodded at Juhyun and got up with a smile that crumbled just a little when Namjoon got up too. He scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly smiling at you and Juhyun.

“You don’t mind if I join you, right?”

“Of course not!”

She had answered for you because yet again you were pressing your lips. Namjoon wasn’t half as bad a dancer as he thought he was and you had all danced together before. Had you blushed then as you did now? You wondered as you beelined to the center of the dancefloor; you couldn’t remember. In the end, it didn’t matter. You smiled as you turned to Namjoon in that circle of people just randomly facing each other in turns. It didn’t have to be anything much, you were just having fun. All of you. It was absolutely fine.

He grabbed your hand and wiggled it for you to pivot and move around and you just laughed and did as told because it was fun. And not a big deal if he didn’t do it to the others, they were busy shouting in each other’s ears anyway.

You felt light and didn’t think it could get better than this when all of a sudden everything became pitch black. The music shut down and suddenly all you could hear was your ears ringing annoyingly and people either shouting or wondering a bit louder than usual about what was going on. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that it couldn’t be normal for a club to just abruptly shut down like that, and it was enough for your anxiety to instantly spike and sting your chest. Yet a pair of arms circled you lightening fast, pressing you safely to a firm chest.

Your cheeks were squished against his pectorals and you could hear a heart racing equally to yours under your ear. A question never formed itself, you knew exactly who was hugging you. It was safe now. You hugged him back and closed your eyes, using his body like an anchor to keep your anxiety from releasing you into the rowdy sea.

Namjoon could hear people getting agitated all around you two, making him squeeze you harder against him. People got nervous in situations like those. They could start running for the exit, pushing and stepping over people without a care if the panic was big enough. And as the absence of music and light continued, mere seconds felt like minutes cracking under the pressure as people became agitated.

He knew crowded places made you anxious. That was how you justified the way he was pressing his lips to the top of your head. It made your already racing heart jump with a foreign feeling, which mixed with his musky cologne had you sweating and not out of nervousness.

A louder shout not so far from you startled you into pressing your fingertips into his lower back and he immediately hugged you tighter. His lips brushed the top of your head again but the agitation around you was too loud, making it impossible to discern what he had said. Yet, regardless, you were safe. You could feel people shifting around you, voices becoming louder, and the occasional glimpse from people's phones. A wave of appreciation and gratitude flooded you, flowing over your anxiety and you unglued your cheek from his shirt to tell him.

His lips pressed lightly atop your cheekbone and your breath caught. His nose had tapped against your glasses and you instinctively squinted though you couldn’t see. None of it bothered you though, on the contrary. Your lips parted in surprise, his thumb dragging across your jawline as if to make sure of where you were in the dark.

You forgot about the world around you. You were suspended in the air, in a trance, waiting for what would happen next, and it happened unexpectedly. His forehead touched yours and you closed your eyes, letting him cradle you sweetly. Little did he know that you could feel no anxiousness now, you were a blank page waiting to be written on.

Or maybe he knew. He didn’t force your chin but he did mutter something while his lips brushed your jawline, and you turned your head. Curiosity, it was all it was. Because you hadn’t heard him, but as your skins brushed, your lips caught the subtle hint of something plush and wet for the tiniest of moments.

You became dizzy and gripped his shirt at the end of his back. Was that what you thought it was? Was that—?

All it took was a millimeter for him to give you the hint that you took without hesitation. His lips pressed to the corner of your mouth and you sighed, eyes scrunching with the tension inside your chest. You were no mind and all instinct when you parted your lips further to get more, just a bit more. All you were ready to do was react, so when it felt like he was about to break away, you closed in.

You were incredibly aware of everything that involved Namjoon. The way his long fingers supported your jawline with a feather-like touch, his short hair falling just above his eyes tickling you where it got to your skin around your glasses, the softest touch of his plush lips as even his breath eased, the gentlest breeze caressing your face whenever you tentatively parted and rejoined like waves kissing the shore.

You were aware of everything, and yet when the lights and music came back on, you were helpless. Namjoon straightened up to look around, trying to figure out what was going on, while you were just looking up at him, gripping him still, trying to figure things out on your own. What was that? What—

“Are you okay?” Juhyun asked right behind you and you jumped in place, startled. You let go of Namjoon, and it was he who answered.

“Yeah, we stayed cool. Are you?”

“Yeah, they pushed around a bit though, geez,” she complained, running a hand through her hair. “What do you think happened?”

“Good question, I don’t know.”

You didn’t hear anything anymore, you were just staring up at him as he talked. Good question. You had no idea either. What happened? Did you really just kiss—

“Listen, if you’re bummed out, that’s okay,” Juhyun shouted above the music, pressing your arm gently. She looked concerned and you tried a smile.

You could guess you looked as befuddled as you felt, “Yeah, I kind of— But I’m your driver!” You shouted instead, remembering your responsibility with a firm shake of your head.

“It’s okay, we’ll catch a taxi!” She shouted with a nod. She knew you were usually anxious; something unnerving like that was surely too much for you. “I’m just worried about you going alone!”

“I’ll go with her,” Namjoon nodded, unwavering, and before you got to say something, Juhyun agreed.

“Take care, text me when you’re home,” she asked you, squeezing your hand once.

You were frowning, about to suggest staying a bit more so you could take her home too when a firmer hand replaced hers. Namjoon returned your gaze, said a quick goodbye with a wave to everyone else, and then pulled you behind him as he made your way out.

Your mind slowly got back on track with every step you took. His hand was firmly wrapped around yours, and despite his wide shoulders in front of you, sheltering you from the chaos, your anxiety guided your thoughts back to the surface with a forced gasp.

What were you doing? Maybe this would turn awkward. You and Namjoon had been good friends for years, you had always counted on him. Maybe that was a mistake, maybe he would be uncomfortable around you now. You didn’t want things to change, you didn’t want to lose his joyful grins, relaxing bicycle rides, and long quiet reading sessions back at his place.

You bowed as you took your coat at the reception and put it on before stepping out into the cold. He was no longer holding your hand, which was holding the coat’s collar to your neck instead. You swallowed and looked down, freezing atop the stairs while you ran by the options and he stepped down ahead of you. You don’t have to leave earlier because of me. I can get home safely by myself. I’m sorry if that was awkward, I—

“Where’s your car?”

You sucked in a breath and told him before turning to walk intently as quickly as possible. The cold was rough on your cheeks, despite the big round lenses of your glasses. You gritted your teeth not to quiver as you stepped carefully over the slippery sidewalk.

When you got to your car, you got in quickly and turned it on to give it time to warm up a bit. Namjoon had followed you inside in silence and was so quiet that his presence could have been buried under your anxiety.

You brushed your flushed cheeks and tried pulling your long hair free, realizing it was trapped between your blouse and the coat. You were so used to having braids that you forgot you needed to tend to your hair properly whenever you put your coat on and now you were stiff and stuck and—

“Easy,” he rasped, reaching to help you and you froze. You glanced up at him and stayed still as he alleviated the tension of the fabric over your shoulders to gently pull your hair out before leaning to repeat the same action on the other side. By then your eyes had lowered to his hands. The way he was handling your dark threads of hair as if it was the most precious silk, worthy of care and attention. “There.”

Your eyes jumped up in time to see him leaning back, a perfectly blank expression making your chest pang in nervousness. You were overthinking again.

“Thanks!” You squeaked, clearing your voice immediately as you leaned forward to reach the GPS screen, “Now, to Joonie’s…”

The drive was easier than you thought it would be. He commented on the cold, and then on what happened at the bar. He had never seen something like that at a bar, only at festivals or concerts. He wondered if the whole street had a power outage or if it was just that room. You mused that if it had been more than just the room, you’d surely hear about it in the news. 

And just like that the car became quiet. Seoul always had traffic, even at 2:52 AM, it was nothing new. So while you comfortably focused on taking him home safely, your thoughts wandered elsewhere.

His lips were the softest thing you had ever touched in your life. Just the delicateness with which you had kissed, you didn’t think you had it in you. Weren’t kisses supposed to be messy? Powerful and passionate? Then how had you touched the pillowy clouds above?

Just remembering it had your guts burning in excitement, and you pressed your lips. Were you making any sense? But you had really done that; hiddenly in the dark, yes, but really. You had acted on your instinct for the first time and gotten a glimpse of the sky. 

You wondered why now. Your friendship was old and comfortable, and he had always been a gentleman, protective but never overbearing. You thought he saw you as a colleague initially and then a friend with similar tastes. You pressed your lips right as you stopped the car in front of his apartment building. One glance at him and you knew that was the same old Namjoon you were used to. Maybe you had dreamed it. Maybe it was supposed to stay a dream.

“Would you like to come up?”

Your eyes jumped and widened, the shock as evident in your expression as a blinking billboard sign.

“I finished the new Murakami,” he continued swiftly, “so you can take it if you want. Or any other book.”

Your lips instantly twitched into a smile, “You finally finished it, then.”

He smirked as you turned off the engine and reached to get your bag, “Finally. You know how I am with his books.”

You nodded and got out of the car, the negative temperature clashing with your blushing cheeks. Yet you only smiled, locked the car, and teased him while you both went inside. Even the ride up the elevator was lighter; you two were back to your eased friendship where you got to poke fun at his annoyance with the repetitiveness of Murakami’s plotlines while enjoying every other detailed introspection he had to offer.

So when you passed the threshold of his apartment, you were as always. You both got your shoes off, though you kept your coat because you weren’t going to stay long. He offered you a drink despite you insisting that it was a quick visit, and as he disappeared into the kitchen to see what he could offer, you beelined to his reading corner.

That space always brought a smile to your face and comfort to your heart. That corner of the living room had a bookshelf from floor to ceiling separated by squared compartments that combined books and small plant pots in a myriad of colors. His most cherished one, however, was the bonsai on the small table next to the gray reading chair and ottoman. He'd let you take up the chair whenever you would read or work at his place, with him preferring the couch so he could stretch his legs more comfortably. You preferred the reading chair because the setting was a mood changer for you and you could use the different shelves to place your open books, especially when designing or writing ideas. Each square was organized in a particular way: some by authors, others by category, or type of work.

“I don’t have much,” you could hear him returning to you. “But I can make tea.”

You shook your head while you crouched, taking a look at your favorite section, “It’s okay, I won’t stay long. Where’s the Murakami?”

“Right here,” his voice sounded from above your head, and you glanced up to see him towering over you, reaching for the book lying by the ledge on the appropriate shelf. He eyed you and you smirked, pushing your glasses up your nose bridge before looking back down. The corners of his lips twitched as he gripped the book inside his hands; he knew you were just happily skimming through your favorite shelf, and that wasn’t the issue. You weren’t the issue, you were— He took a deep shaky breath, “Oh, right, I have another one.”

He placed the Murakami book on the small table and left your side in the direction of his bedroom, you noticed. You pressed your lips and got up, grabbing the book he was holding just now. Blood was rushing to your cheeks and you took a short breath to ease yourself. You were there just to grab that book. You were alone at Namjoon’s, and that had happened hundreds of times before. Not that you had ever kissed before, but you could be cool. It was in the dark anyway. Conceptually, if you were thinking of the outline of a music video, that meant it was a secret. You could keep a secret. You could pretend it never happened.

Overhearing his steps pulled you from the depths of your thoughts to check what he had in his hands.

“Here,” he grinned, showing it to you. 

It was a book and you gasped before you grabbed it. The cover had the digital drawing of a little girl on her bed, not lying down, but facing the wall behind her that had become an ocean with sparkling rays floating above. The title read, ‘Windows to Worlds: The Art of Devin Elle Kurtz’. You thought the name rang a bell as you opened and skimmed through it. 

“I thought of you,” he smiled, dimples sinking sweetly into his cheeks at your interested demeanor.

“Woah, her use of color and lighting looks absolutely astounding,” you breathed, alternating between gasping and stopping your breath altogether with each new page.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“But why did you get it?” You finally caught up, looking up at him. “Because I was struggling with lighting?”

Your tone was appreciative and almost savvy as if you knew you had guessed his intent correctly. Yet he shook his head once, “Because of the braids.”

You lowered your eyes to the cover again and indeed, the little girl had two braids, much like you usually sported. You smiled, “Do you think she has glasses too?”

“Maybe,” he acceded, nodding with ease.

You looked back down at the cover — the girl had her palms against the glass as if she was staring into a new magical world. It brought warmth to your chest. Not just because it was beautiful or because it was going to help you, but because Namjoon saw some of it in you.

You pressed the books to your chest, facing him to thank him when your smile fell. His expression had lost some of its casualness and you were immediately flooded with apprehension.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

His tone was so gentle it brought tears to your eyes. It was Namjoon. All of it, all of your doubts and anxiety were about one of the most important people in your life. Who cared how you might have felt; you absolutely could not jeopardize your friendship.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed so sincerely your voice shook.

“Oh.”

“I… It was…”

Your gaze was on the floor around his feet on the white carpet as you tried to find words. You half expected him to move or make things less awkward with his spirited humor, but he waited.

So you said what came to mind, “An accident. Right? It was an accident,” you repeated, ignoring the heat making your glasses fog ever so slightly. “It was dark and…”

You sucked in a breath and pushed your glasses up your nose bridge to soothe yourself, and froze when he nodded slowly.

“I… can’t call it an accident.”

Your eyes widened impossibly, “But— But then— I mean,” you blinked, “that would mean…”

You were just stammering and he smiled, “Yes. I don’t just— I wouldn’t just—” He smirked, scratching the back of his head, “I’d be lying if I said—”

His voice got caught inside his throat. You were looking up at him with eyes so big he feared they’d pop or something. He thought he was ready to talk about it and get it out in the open but— Were you even breathing?

“You know what? Never mind,” he shrugged, with a smile that pressed his plush lips too thin.

Your eyes widened even more, “No—” You almost choked from your impulse and instinctively stepped back, and everything went dark.

You held your breath as if you had been caught in a trap. You could have been back at the club, but there was no crowd, no fear, and no pressure. There was light still shining from his bedroom, reassuringly outlining his silhouette. You were safe, just like then. And it formed the words out of your mouth.

“I can't call it an accident either,” you confessed, and instantly your shoulders relaxed. He didn’t move and you couldn’t see him, but you knew him. You knew of his presence and the way he would never judge or hurt you. “I kissed you back.”

The silence continued between you but you found comfort in it. It was as though you had time to process, to put yourself back in your shoes moments earlier when exactly like that, in the dark, you let something from deep within surface.

“I was… curious,” you voiced quietly.

“Curious?”

“What would you… feel like? How would you…” you were getting lost and closed your eyes. You could almost feel him again, his warmth, his scent, the firmness of his arms around you, helping you levitate safely into the clouds. Your eyes opened at the sound of a footstep and you instantly flushed, “I mean, I— I’m sorry, I—”

“No, don't say sorry.” His outline drew closer until he stopped right in front of you. “You were curious about that?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Why was your heart racing so fast? You were so hot that you knew for a fact your glasses were fogging, despite not being able to see it. You swallowed and fanned your face a little, self-conscious about your hands becoming sweaty and dirtying the books.

Yet as you tried to calm down, you realized silence was stretching. He was waiting, of course, gentlemanly as he was. And you were embarrassed but in the dark, you also wanted to be brave.

“I liked it.”

You leave it there, your sincere answer to his question. Your heart was thrumming wildly but you were not half as nervous as you thought you’d be.

“I liked it too.”

Your breath caught as you looked up despite barely seeing a silhouette. What?

“Would you do it again?”

“Now?” Your voice pitched.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Your tone was inquisitive, but it was more out of shock that he said yes. You were heating up so much you didn’t think you were processing thoughts logically, and you weren’t. Your head was blank, “Yes.”

It felt like an eternity, but you knew that wasn’t true. You were just too eager to see what happened next, to feel him again and check if your head would be caught spinning as you floated away to the clouds again.

The books in your hands disappeared quickly, only the sound of them hitting the table told you their fate, and not that you cared. His breath was fanning your face and your head instantly fell back, tapping the wall as your lips parted and you waited for what you wanted most.

When it didn’t instantly come, you had no issues soothing his hesitation by guiding his hands to your jaw. You wanted him to know where you were; exactly there, between the wall and his safe embrace, waiting. 

Finally, his breath was so close it fully stopped when your lips locked together in a feather-like touch, and you moved. You pressed yourself closer, brushing his lips so you’d match completely. Your mouth dove into a sweeter taste, fingers tracing up his neck tentatively to grasp that feeling. And he let you, falling in with you, leaning into you as far as you’d let him.

Your lips parted in an invitation that he took promptly, leaving a wet trace on your bottom lip before he committed. You sighed into his mouth, gripping his shirt to pull him closer. He could reach into you and all around you; you were falling. There was an expanse behind and all around you and it reminded you of free falling; it was probably what skydiving felt like. Only you weren’t nearing the ground but going further from it. That sky was about to catch you; a sweet, soft, endearing sky about to clasp you affectionately and carry you into a dream.

You only stopped because he pulled back, kissing the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your cheek. It was when you noticed that you two fit together like puzzle pieces, with your fingers buried in the nape of his neck, his into your lower back, your breaths mixing as your legs intertwined.

His breath was heavy against your warm cheek, “This can stay here. In the dark. If you want.”

You were too far to recognize the concern in his voice, “Is that what you want?”

“No,” his reply was instant, a subtle shake of his head as his lips dragged over your heated skin. “No, I'm curious about way more than this.”

You opened your eyes, eager to see in him what he meant, but the darkness hid his expression. It protected you, yes, but now, it made you uneasy. There was a moment when it had soothed your fears, maybe even made you brave, but now it was enough.

“Would turning the light on bother you?”

You felt his smile before he pulled away, “Not at all.”

His hands were still supporting your waist as you felt the wall behind you until you flipped the switch. You shut your eyes instantly with a grimace and knew he had done the same.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but he smirked, “I told you you could.”

His eyes opened first, eager to bypass the sudden sensibility so he could look at you as soon as possible. Your eyes and nose were still scrunched, your glasses had fallen lower on your nose than you liked normally, and the top of your cheeks was beautifully blushed. He didn’t resist cupping your cheek to brush his thumb over the red hue and your eyes opened, looking up at him over your glasses. You were so close to each other but you couldn’t look or move away.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, eyes set on yours as if he was seeing stars.

“How can you see anything, we’re so close,” you whined with a huff.

He chuckled, “Yeah?”

You pouted; your glasses were falling down your nose bridge again, and he grinned. He was so unbelievably happy right now, and as you pressed the glasses further up, he wished it would never end.

“Is it…” you were quiet, “better like this?”

“Much better,” he assured confidently, looking into your eyes intently. 

Every time you blinked, wherever you glanced, he kept his cool and tried holding his fear in check — what if you suddenly pushed him away, became uneasy, or regretted this? 

Yet your eyes fixed on his as your hand returned gently to the side of his neck, “You said… you’re curious about more?”

He couldn’t breathe, “Yes.”

“What… does that mean?”

Your voice was a thread and he swore he became dizzy, “You. I—” His lips twitched as he found words, “I want to be with you.”

He settled on that simple fact and shushed his racing heart. It was too soon to confess how long he had been thinking about this, how far he had fallen, and how deeply sure he was that there was no one else he wanted. Nowhere else he wanted to go, no other person who could be home, no other soul he wanted to share his time with. Shit, this was not the time for a love confession.

“Not in the dark,” you mused, thinking back. “But here,” you searched his eyes with a light line between your eyebrows. “Do you want that? To be… a moment of—”

“No,” he interrupted firmly, making sure that every point you touched each other conveyed that. “I want more than a moment, than one night, than a place, than— No,” he breathed. “I want so much more.”

You weren’t sure there was any reaction you could have given because you were floating again. His arms were around you, his mouth speaking words you had long wished to hear, and you waited. It felt like the right thing to do; you just waited for him to become so much more.

“And you?” He asked after waiting to hear your thoughts. “Where would you take this?”

You almost choked with your instant answer, “All the way.”

His eyebrows jumped before his expression scrunched into a rapturous smile, and you filled your chest with air. You needed it, you needed a big deep breath before the dive. When his forehead touched yours, you stayed close, eyes half-hooding, waiting, and ready. You had been ready for a while, all there was left to do now was fly.

You were waiting for his kiss when he grabbed your head, both of you eager and gentle in your grip on the other. His lips were as soft as before but now he was pressing harder, searching for something in the depths of your kiss, and you met him halfway. There was the passion you had thought of before, making your skin pucker as your breathing dragged. It was curious how you were so focused on every little detail of his — his jawline moving under your fingertips, the soft skin at the column of his neck, his wide shoulders where your arms found support to press him closer to you — but had no actual thoughts. Every brush of his lips had you sinking further, every lick of his tongue had you immersed until his hands were pulling you to him and barely letting you touch the ground.

When your feet did touch the ground you lost your balance a little and inadvertently fell into him, which had him feeling behind him to make sure he could sit down. Your lips parted and he looked up at you, hands supportive but not pressuring you. He waited for you to decide if you’d follow him or not, and you didn’t hesitate. You raised a knee to his outer thigh and he instantly supported it, helping you to straddle him effortlessly before he leaned back into the reading chair.

You towered over him a little bit and as he hugged you close, you couldn’t help remembering how many times you had sat in that same chair just to read. Now he was there with you, under you, kissing your neck gently, and you kissed his head with the excitement bubbling under your skin. This was really happening, you could barely contain yourself.

He pressed you to sit closer to him and you guided him to look up just so you could dive into his kiss again. His skin was so soft, his touch so gentle as he let you steer your mouths until your head started spinning. You went deeper with every kiss, and with every sparkle, you became daring. Your fingers laced around his hair, your breaths one and the same as your hips moved on their own accord to fuse you two into one in any way possible. Your instinct was taking over, regardless of how you ground against him or leaned into him as if it would merge you two together.

You were hot and breathless when you felt a hint of his fingertips brushing the skin at your lower back, and instinctively you pulled back. He looked up at you, instantly wary of mistakenly crossing a line, but in a rustle of clothes, your blouse went up and away, thrown on the floor.

You faced him then, the goosebumps forming on your skin wherever his fingertips brushed your back as you seemed to exude heat. Not even for a moment did you wonder if you were going too far, despite being in a bra only in front of him. Rather you eyed his shirt and pouted, and he got it; in a second it was gone too.

Your lips twitched as you stroked down his neck, over his clavicles, and to his wide shoulders. You knew he’d be perfect, you knew you’d go well beyond liking every inch of him, but reality was far sweeter than your imagination. Before you could lean in and kiss every inch, he beat you to it. His pillowy lips grazed over the expanse of your neck before lowering down your chest and you sank your nails on his shoulders. It was the lightness of his touch, the warmth of his breath contrasting with his tongue as he explored everything until he dared lower. He moved slowly, maybe hesitated, and your hand darting to the back of his head to support him eased him.

He kissed and nuzzled every inch of your chest then settled over your sternum, breathing you in between your breasts just above the center gore. You knew why he stopped, but you were riding the shivers and throbs his every breath drew out of you, and you didn’t want it to stop. You reached behind you and unclasped the bra, letting the straps slide off your arms while you held his gaze. Yes, you wanted to do this. Yes, you wanted him to touch you, to know how he—

His hands over your waist raised to cup your breasts and rub your nipples and you shivered, goosebumps covering you from head to toe. The more he brushed over the hardened tips, the less control you had over a deep whine wanting to escape your lips.

You were biting your lip in this sweet struggle when he glanced up at you before leaning in to take one inside his mouth, and you whined. Your hips bucked over him, drawing closer while your cries grew and expanded with every lick of his tongue. You were grinding hard on him now, unaware of how unruly you were being. Your cries just needed to be heard, your hunger satiated as you searched for friction and wondered why it wasn’t as intense as it should be.

Your chest was wet by the time he parted his mouth from the delicate skin, but you didn’t have time to think about it. His hands gripped your hips to press you closer, and you jumped out of his arms in a mix of outrage and eagerness. 

So that was why you couldn’t feel him properly, you concluded, as you unbuttoned your jeans. Of course, how stupid. At least it was easily fixed.

You only stopped when your clothes hit the floor. His eyes locked with yours and you hesitated. You were totally naked in your eagerness, maybe you were going too fast. But his hands guiding yours to his shoulders before he leaned in to kiss over your tummy made you realize you were being silly. His eyes were glistening, looking up at you before closing to enjoy the taste of your skin, his cheeks were red, and despite his pants, the tent was very visible. 

You wanted to be close so you raised your knee again, and once more he guided you to straddle him. He kissed quickly up your chest before eying your mouth, and you obliged. Kissing him like this was more vulnerable, open, and raw, but you wanted to. His fingertips stroked your sides softly downwards and you sighed into his mouth, gripping him closer. You wanted so much more.

His hands settled atop your hips and it made you whine and wiggle so they would move. It didn’t occur to you to separate your mouths and tell him to touch you; in fact, no thoughts were occurring to you. He seemed to hesitate on where to go while palming your hips, and in the end, it was your hand that guided him to where you wanted him. You froze amidst your kiss, mouth agape as your eyes opened when his fingers skimmed your sex. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath halting as you waited for him. His eyes were set on you, carefully taking in your expression as he dared to brush lower, exploring down your mound, around your hooded clit, and gently over your folds before retracing his steps.

A strangled quiet moan had you closing your eyes to get lost. His fingers were drawing circles over your clit, ever so gently, prodding how to please you without hurting you, and you sank your nails into the back of his neck. You could worship that man now — it was all you knew as you looked at him between half-hooded eyes. Every circle brought a spark, a throb, a buck of your hips until the tension inside you made you jump away from his touch. You kissed him hard then, grabbing his head desperately — you wanted him, not just his hand.

You reached between your bodies to cup his bulge and he choked in your kiss. You pressed harder, too curious to let him breathe or get away, and searched for a way to open his pants, but it was difficult without looking. Fortunately, it understood perfectly what you wanted and got to it.

He raised you off his lap for the single moment it took him to squirm and slide his clothes down his legs before settling you over him again. His skin was burning hot against your inner thighs and as you kissed him, you imagined it was because he wanted you the same way.

You reached again for him and this time there were no barriers. You felt his hard length gently, caressing its soft skin carefully before stroking him against your palm.

He grunted into your cheek; your lips had parted so you could both focus on those new sensations. Something wet was making it easier to stroke him and press the head gently, with every movement earning you something, whether a groan, a sigh, a twitch of his fingers over your hips, or more precum.

You loved seeing and hearing every reaction, but you didn’t want to wait. You were tense and overheating, and that hard cock in your hand belonged somewhere else.

You moved on your knees to straddle him closer, positioning yourself with nothing but the intention to feel him, but you paused. Before the sight of the pink swollen tip at your entrance could steal your logic, you looked at him with an implied question. He nodded with glistening eyes, hands gripping a bit more of your ass to convey just how much he wanted this. And so you leaned to touch your foreheads before you guided him inside you.

You were unbelievably wet but still, it took a moment for him to become coated enough to slide in without any attrition. It felt like a trial and error; every time you tried sitting lower, there was resistance, and so you raised yourself and tried again. And again and again, with his fingers sinking into your skin as he hid his scrunched-up expression. Your eyebrows were knitted too, especially when he hit a particular spot, and soon he bottomed out.

You wiggled a little to make room, your tension gripping him inside you so hard that both of you groaned. You bucked your hips over him and sighed before reaching back, taking support on his hips. The hunger in his glistening eyes as he observed you taking your pleasure from him was like straight out of a dream, except he was really there, stretching you to the edge, bubbling a tension up your spine so good you knew you wouldn’t last a minute.

So you leaned forward again, palming the expanse of his chest as you let the fluttering subside for a bit. A smile bloomed on your lips as he reached to kiss your skin, supporting you closely while he grazed up your neck. Yet as it had blossomed, your smile faded when your eyebrows knitted further and your pleasure sunk in your gut. He had taken a firmer grip of you and used his leverage to thrust his hips up and into you, successfully crumbling whatever excuse of a restraint you had.

You moaned unreservedly and as he pulled away to face you without relenting, you met him with glistening eyes. It wasn’t a betrayal but because of him, you couldn’t hold back. He understood; he told you with a nod as he tried keeping the rhythm steady for you. So you hugged him to you and let the pleasure spike once, twice, until a moan burst out of you with the knot in your lower gut releasing the tension.

However long it lasted, it was long. It left you powerless and radiating heat like a furnace, only he was even hotter than you. He was sweaty under your arms and legs as you embraced him, and it mixed with your wetness and cum, but you didn’t care.

He waited for you to pull away and kiss his humid forehead before he asked, “Can I take you to bed?”

“Yes,” you sighed, still up high in your haze.

He could tell how languid you were so he picked you up carefully, hugging your legs around his waist and supporting your lower back. His heart was racing as he carried you, not because he was afraid of dropping you — no way in hell that would ever happen — but because this was really happening. He was really carrying your naked body across his apartment, your sweaty bodies pressed together after you reached your pleasure in his arms only for him to take you to bed and continue to show you how much he cared for you. He sighted the bed when your limbs squeezed him more firmly and he smiled from ear to ear. It was like carrying a koala bear who didn’t want to let go of him, and he loved that.

He sat on the bed with you on his lap before carefully supporting your back so he could lay you down gently while hovering over you and you finally blinked. 

Your senses were coming back; Namjoon was over you, caging you between his biceps while your legs laced around him. He was inside you, and even if you had forgotten, he reminded you when he moved tentatively. Your eyes were set on his, and that was how you saw the concern crossing them, and you blinked again. You and him were connected like you had only ever dreamed, and it was good. You reached to cup his cheeks and guide his mouth to yours; you wanted him to know that. That you knew what you were doing, with whom, and how, and your heart was completely in it.

If he wasn’t kissing your lips, then he was pecking the tip of your nose, grazing your cheeks, or brushing down the column of your neck as his hips gained speed. You raised yours to feel him as deep as possible, and as you held onto him, you let the emotions flood you. The safety of his arms, the completeness as he filled up all the gaps, the nurture of every tender kiss, the shared warmth, tension, and torture of your bodies rocking together. You were meshed inextricably in an ascent that you had never dared to imagine, and you grabbed him even harder, in case the intensity had you floating away.

Your voice had a life of its own; every time he sank further into you, your soul expanded. Every time he buried himself inside you, your moan released into his ear, and over and over again as he hid in your neck, revering you in all the ways he could.

“You feel so good,” he rasped against your throat, and against all odds you heard it in between moans. Maybe because he was slowing down. He pulled away to face you so closely you saw him blurred despite your glasses, “I don't want it to end.”

Your eyes widened and watered but no words came out in time; he pressed your lips sweetly and you buried your fingers in his hair, feeling your heart swelling with every beat. He restarted his hips, guided by your legs pressing him into you, and you thought that nothing else mattered than him knowing. You also didn’t want it to end, you wanted to stay with him forever, linked, safe, accepted, hidden from anything that wasn’t blissful peace, and happiness.

His hips snapping into yours brought groans, moans, and whines out of the both of you, with wet sloppy sounds echoing in the bedroom along with the slaps of skins colliding. It became fast, forcing you to wrap your limbs around him firmly to never miss any sensation he could give you until you tensed unbelievably.

You surrendered to your climax immediately, letting it wash over you as you throbbed and reveled in scream-inducing spasms. He grunted and swore into your neck, but to your surprise, he didn’t come with you. On the contrary, suddenly you could feel his intent to pull out so you crossed your legs behind him and searched for his ear so you could tell him, “Inside me. Stay inside me.”

He groaned and you rocked with him, keen on extending both your pleasure as much as possible when he twitched inside you. You closed your eyes and his lips immediately caught yours. He kissed you with every peak, groaning into your mouth at every turn, making you shudder.

He stilled and you kept petting his damp hair at the back of his head, slowly waiting for both your hearts to calm down. You couldn’t believe what just happened yet at the same time it felt as natural as breathing.

Finally, he moved from the crook of your neck and faced you. A single drop of sweat dripped along his nose to the tip and you caught it with your fingertip. He nuzzled you then, recovering his breath with a tender smile, and you smiled back.

#bts fanfic #bts #ao3 fanfic #bts imagines #bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #SX Seoul series #namjoon bts #namjoon imagines #namjoon smut #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #rm smut #rm fanfic #lo1k-diamonds writes 💎 #bangtanwhq

[builtbybrokenbells]

#19 Danny 😍❤️🌧️

Person A joining person B in the rain.

Pairing: danny x reader

W/c: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff!

sorry i suck so bad at answering my asks 😭 i hope you enjoy lovely!! 🫶🏻 thank you for requesting

Prompt list here

“Do you hear that?” You hummed, a smile lingering on your lips as tiredness danced in your eyes. Limbs were tangled in the sheets to the point where you no longer knew which body part belonged to who. You peeked up at your boyfriend through heavy eyelids, stopping for a moment to admire the breathtaking beauty of his face. His eyes were closed, but you knew he wasn’t asleep; his fingers were still tracing light shapes on the bare skin of your thigh that was draped over him.

“Hear what?” He mumbled, so close to slumber yet unwilling to give in. He was enjoying the moment of intimacy far too much to part with it just yet.

“The rain.” You whispered, straining a little harder to hear the pitter-patter of the droplets against the roof.

“Huh,” he cracked one eyelid open, peering towards the window. “Didn’t even notice.” He knew you loved the rain and all that came along with it. The smell in the air, the haze of grey clouds in the sky, the fog that lingered near the ground. You were a fanatic for lazy days, and rain always ensured you could get away with them. There was still a bit of light in the sky, letting you know that the day was nearly over, but you still had time to enjoy it if you wanted.

The gloomy skies were present from the minute you woke, but only teased rain for the rest of the day. You had taken full advantage of the weather, lazing around in Danny’s t-shirt alone in the earliest hours. When noon rolled around, Danny found himself free for the rest of the day, surprising you with his company. He was quick to join you in the relaxation; it started in the living room, sharing kisses and taking turns laying on each other while you ignored the television in the background. Then, you moved on to dinner, cooking while still finding it impossible to keep your hands off of each other. Then, you retired to the bedroom, where you found yourselves in the comfort of your bed as you continued your laziness even further. You were practically atop of him, your leg and your arm strung carelessly across his body while he held you there, ensuring you wouldn’t move away.

You did find your day of rest catching up to you. A sudden restlessness had taken over you as your body begged you for some form of excitement. He could tell you were growing antsy; he knew you better than you knew yourself most days. The life came back to your voice, the lull of sleep no longer calling to you. As much as he would have liked to cater to the need, the energy hadn’t seem to catch up to him the same as it did for you. “Come on,” you said, making a move to get out of bed. His grip on you tightened, a groan of protest sounding from him.

“Where?” He complained, unwilling to let you leave, let alone follow you.

“Surprise.” You said, fighting his hold with a laugh rising in your throat. Both of his eyes were open now, but not fully caught up to speed. He couldn’t help but laugh too, amused by your frantic attempt to free yourself from his arms. He rolled over, pulling you back into him with ease, but not because he was protesting your actions. Now, he was only trying to annoy you. “Let go!” You giggled, face pressed into his chest as he muffled your plea for freedom.

“Not until you tell me where you’re going.”

“I told you, it’s a surprise!” You complained, trying to pry his arm off of you. After a moment, you freed yourself from his hold, but not because you had won the battle of strength. He gave in, knowing that you wouldn’t stop fighting even if your life depended on it. If there was one thing for certain about your relationship, it was that he loved to tease, and you loved to fight back. It was fun, never allowing for a boring moment, and it was incredibly endearing. You missed it terribly when he was gone on tour.

Before he could even think about grabbing you again, you rolled off the mattress and to your feet, a smile of triumph on your lips. He didn’t need to point out that he let you win, because you both already knew. Plus, your elation was too charming for him to diminish. He loved seeing you happy, even if it meant he had to pretend to take a loss. Within an instant, you darted towards the bedroom door, disappearing around the corner and into the hallway. You could hear his slow footsteps following you, nowhere near as enthusiastic about getting out of bed. By the time you were at the patio door in the kitchen, he was only halfway down the hallway. When he heard you slide open the door, he picked up his pace.

“What are you doing?” He laughed, catching up to you before you could make your big break.

“Going outside.” You replied, not bothering to look back at him before you stepped into the rain.

“Y/n, get back in here. You’re going to get sick.” He said, leaning against the open door. It was quite the sight to behold; he was staring at you shirtless in the doorway, and you were dancing around in the rain on your back porch in nothing but his shirt.

“Come out here with me.” You pleaded, holding a hand out to him.

“No!” He laughed, finding the idea ridiculous. “Come back in here with me.”

“Mmm, no.” You shook your head, looking up to the cloudy sky as raindrops trickled down your face. Your smile was blinding, and you were already soaked.

“I’m not letting you back in here like that.”

“Like what?” You asked as if you had no idea what was wrong.

“You’re all… soggy.” He said, trying to place the right word to the description. “Cold and wet… and cold. Did I mention that?” He listed.

“Come here.” You tried again. You were stuck in a standoff. He wasn’t willing to join you, and you weren’t willing to give up. After a few seconds of silence, he let out a sigh of defeat, stepping outside and into the unfavourable weather. You let out sound that radiated pure glee through the air, stepping towards him and wrapping your arms around him.

“You’re crazy.” He said, but his hands were already snaking around your waist and he was looking at you with nothing but love.

“And soggy, apparently.” You laughed, finding his description funny and fully knowing that he didn’t mean a word of what he said.

“Yeah, crazy and soggy.” He agreed.

“But you love it.”

“How could I not?” He muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The ran washed over you as the cool air enveloped you, but you were filled with nothing but warmth and light. No matter the weather, you knew he would always produce that feeling within you. He was a ray of sunshine, carrying the warmth with him wherever he went, and you were incredibly lucky to be able to experience it. “Is this good enough for you? Can we go inside now?” He asked, barely parting from you as he spoke.

“One more kiss.” You challenged, but the request was unimportant because he was already planning on doing it, anyway. You cupped his cheek in your hand as his lips landed on yours once again, savouring every bit of sweetness the moment had to offer.

“Okay, now get in the house.” He said, pulling away from you. “I don’t want you getting sick.” You gave a nod, accepting his demand as he gave you a light push towards the door. As you stepped away, his hand landed with a sharp slap on your ass, making you jump at the contact. You whipped your head around only to find him laughing at your reaction.

“I’ll lock you out here.” You threatened, stepping inside.

“You wouldn’t.” He brushed you off. He was right, and both of you knew it. You didn’t have the heart to be mean to him even for a second.

“Race you to the shower.” You said, ignoring his rebuttal and slipping your shirt over your head. You tossed it back in his direction as you moved towards the bathroom, not bothering to stop and wait for a reaction. He closed the door, listening to you giggle as you disappeared once again. With a smile on his lips, he chased after you, much happier with the dance in the rain knowing the reward that was now waiting for him. Then again, even if there was no promise of anything more than a kiss in the cold rain, he would still be more than happy to join you, because a moment with you was worth more than the world to him.

boyfriend Danny actually kills me. beating my head against a wall rn.

#gvf #danny wagner #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #jake gvf #sam gvf #gvf fic #josh gvf #danny gvf #danny wagner fluff #danny wagner fic #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner smut #daniel gvf #sammy gvf #gvf imagine #gvf fluff #gvf blurb #greta van fleet blurb #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fluff #greta van fic #blurbs #prompt list #builtbybrokenbells

[creedslove]

I NEED some pre/no outbreak! Joel x reader where it’s just put fluff of them w Sarah after he’s had a long day at work

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: no outbreak Joel is an addiction I don't want to get rid of 😭 I'm so ready to be this man's wife 😭

Joel had a pretty rough day at work; he had problems with deliveries of wood and concrete and he also had an argument with one of his clients 

And the asshole even threatened to cancel their deal and find another contractor 

He even missed dinner with his family which was sacred to him, only to have a meeting with the asshole client and try to come up with a solution. He hated that he missed out precious time with his two favorite girls: his beautiful wife, you, and his daughter Sarah

But he knew sometimes he had to make sacrifices, after all the money he would get for this job would make a difference at the end of the month and he had vowed to give you two only the best 

Luckily, Joel managed to solve the situation, but that didn't happen without a lot of stress, tension and anger, so when he parked in the driveway, he wanted nothing more than shower and bed 

He got out of the car and groaned, he was sweaty, cranky, sore, hungry and he figured you and Sarah would be probably in bed or asleep on the couch 

He decided he would just take a quick shower, make himself a sandwich and try not to wake you up when he got under the blankets 

Or maybe he would wake you up on purpose and see if you were in the mood for a quickie, so he could blow off some team 

But he wasn't sure he would do it because he didn't feel playful and because his back was killing him 

When he got to the front door, he thought it was odd the lights were on and the smell of food was making his mouth water every single step he took 

Maybe Tommy decided to crash and cook himself something? 

Joel laughed at himself at that absurd thought, there was no way his brother would cook something without burning his house down 

When he got inside, he heard laughter and your voices, Sarah immediately smiled up at him 

"Hey dad, we missed you!" 

You went towards him and pecked his lips, tangling your fingers into his sweat-damp hair and caressing it gently 

"Go shower, handsome. Dinner's almost ready" 

You chuckled as he looked very surprised and give him another peck on the lips 

Joel didn't waste time, showering and changing into fresh clothes. He got downstairs as quick as possible and saw as you took the potatoes out of the oven at the same time Sarah was setting the table 

She proudly told him how the two of you had decided to cook dinner together and his heart warmed at the realization you two had made his favorite: steak and baked potatoes

Over dinner, you two told Joel what you did in the evening while you waited for him: you helped her with the homework, then you two listened to music and prepared dinner together, as you decided you would wait for him 

Joel ate as if he hadn't eaten in days, he was so full and satisfied and felt the tiredness taking over his body, so you told him to go to the couch that you would handle the dishes

Sarah helped you and in no time the three of you were on the couch. Joel had picked whatever movie that had a lot of explosions or car races, you didn't really care, as you focused on running your nails through his scalp, one warm wrapped around your body and another wrapped around Sarah, who dozed off at her dad's soft cuddles 

You could see he was also struggling to keep his eyes open, so you suggested everyone should go to bed, after all, it was way past everybody's bedtime 

Joel carried his daughter to her room, even if his back was still sore, he just couldn't wake her up, not after everything she did for him, she was sleeping peacefully, and he smiled at himself, thinking about her when she was an adorable little toddler and wondering if he would have the energy to have another toddler running around the house 

His back said no to that question, but his heart said yes 

He tucked her in like he had done so many times during her life and went to your room, meeting you there, with a muscle relaxer and a glass of water in hands and your lotion waiting for him on the nightstand

You didn't even need to tell him twice, he immediately took off his shirt and lay on his stomach, so you took some lotion and rubbed over his back, before massaging it effectively 

Joel loved the massages, not only because they felt good and helped him relax and very often had a happy ending, but also because you always used some of your fruity lotion on him and he would smell like you - but he wouldn't really admit that 

Once again he was almost dozing off, when you noticed he couldn't help but pop a boner. Joel groaned and he couldn't deny he wanted to fool around a little but he felt so goddamn tired

You told him to close his eyes and relax as much as he wanted, as you kissed from his lips to his neck and then down his body until you got to that thick cock of his 

And you gave your husband a blowjob until he finished in your mouth 

He barely had time to recover from his bliss before falling asleep finally, to the point he didn't even notice he was the little spoon that night 

You clung to him and fell asleep too, drunk in love with your husband and happy with the family you had 

The next morning Joel woke up in such a good mood, because he knew that no matter what he had to face at work, he would have his family when he went back home

_____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou show

[obsidiancreates]

Henry Spencer Is A Bastard (With A Broken Nose)

Shawn and Jules have been living together for two weeks when Jules storms into the precinct, grabs Lassiter by the arm, and drags him into the interrogation room.

“O’Hara, what the hell is-”

“You’ve spent time alone with Henry,” she says, sitting Lassiter in the suspect chair. “What was he like?”

“What?”

“This is important, Carlton.”

Lassiter sighs, looking around the room for a moment before answering. “Unpleasant and judgemental. He had every quality of a great cop but none of an actual person I’d spend time with.”

“Which for you is saying something,” Jules mumbles, looking to the side. “Would-would you say you think he’s capable of intentional child endangerment or neglect?”

Lassiter sits up more. “What? O’Hara, what is this about?”

Jules takes a deep breath, looking down at her hands. “I was helping Shawn get some stuff from his old room, and we found an old journal from when he was a kid.It was mostly just doodles and half-finished homework, and he said to just throw it away, but… I kept it. I thought it was cute, to be able to look at what went through his brain as a kid.”

“O’Hara. If you’re alleging what I think-”

“I read more later while he was out with Gus and one of the pages was a failed writing assignment. He was supposed to write about what he did over the weekend and he wrote that his dad locked him a trunk and made him pretend to be kidnapped.”

Lassiter lets out a breath. “Okay. But you and I both know Spencer’s imagination-”

“Carlton, remember the kicked-out tailight? When he got shot?”

“O’Hara, I was with Henry through that whole investigation, and I don’t think I can say that the man I investigated with would purposefully hurt or neglect his son. He was like a machine through the whole thing.”

“There was more, though, Carlton. One of the assignments was to write about how they spent Easter and Shawn’s said he got cut on some glass trying to dig up his eggs. He drew a picture, it-”

She pulls out her phone and hands it to her partner. Lassiter looks at a crude drawing of a small stick figure on it’s hands and knees, overly-large shards on the ground in front of it, and an egg a good few lines below it. There’s a taller stick figure behind the small one, with a wide-open mouth and the words ‘You can do better, Shawn,’ written beside it.

The teacher’s note on the side says that Shawn needs to stop making up stories for assignments about his real life.

Lassiter hands the phone back. “O’Hara…”

Jules sits back in her chair a bit, the tension giving way to a slumped tiredness. “I know they’ve never had an… easy relationship, but Henry has always been so present, ever since we’ve known Shawn. I thought that was a good thing and Shawn’s discomfort was just Shawn being… Shawn.” She looks down at her hand in guilt. “What if I completely missed that he has reason, Carlton?”

Lassiter grabs one of Jules’s hands. “O’Hara, Henry Spencer is a bitter, unlikeable, and overbearing old man- but I really don’t think he’s capable of child abuse.”

Jules holds his hand back and gives it a squeeze. “I just… don’t know how to ask Shawn if these are real. He’s not exactly forthcoming about messy emotions and memories.”

Lassiter nods, and then blinks. “So let’s ask Guster. They’ve been stuck together like flies on a flytrap forever.”

Jules shakes her head. “If Shawn isn’t going to say anything, I really don’t think Gus will.”

“Well, you can either ask Guster if these are real, or you can worry about it forever and never get any answers.” Lassiter knows his partner well enough to know that’s unacceptable to her.

She gives his hand one more squeeze. “I’m just worried. Henry works here. He’s in charge of Shawn.”

“And I’m sure that when we talk to Guster about all this, we’ll learn that Spencer was just exaggerating like he always does.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gus reads the page with wide eyes. “Wait, he was serious about that?”

Lassiter stifles the urge to shout ‘Come on!’ when he hears Jules suck in a breath.

“You mean you knew about this already?”

“I mean, Shawn told me once that he liked Easter at my house way more because there was no ‘manhunt training’, but I thought he just meant something like when his dad would have him stakeout their porch.”

“He what?”

“It, sounds worse than it is. … I think.” Gus looks down at the old notebook again. “I thought. … I mean, Henry was always a little intense. When Shawn and I were boyscouts he used to set up challenges that were impossible to win, and then make us feel bad for not winning.”

“What do you mean, impossible to win?” Lassiter is starting to get concerned now. Shawn’s incessant need to show everyone up has been a pain in his ass for years, and if Henry reinforced that grating attitude and now acts like he tried to quell it-

“Stuff like telling us to go find a rocket in the middle of the woods and then going and grabbing it himself. He used to promise us ice cream if we won, then say he’d eat it himself if we didn’t win next time.” Gus’s face pinches the more he talks about the memories. “Gosh, I haven’t thought about that in years. I guess I didn’t realize how messed up that is until I said it out loud.”

“It’s horrible,” Jules says.

“But not criminal,” Lassiter reminds her. “And as… weird and dangerous as the eggs thing is, that’s not criminal either. … I think.”

“What about the trunk, Carlton?”

“... Yeah, that part’s looking pretty bad.”

Gus shuts the notebook. “We need to talk to Shawn about this. I don’t know if I’m even remembering right, but I know he will.”

“He’d never open up about something like this,” Jules says, gesturing to the notebook and letting her arms drop back to her sides with a flop. “He barely tells me about his childhood at all.”

“Well I was there for most of it, and I need to make sure I didn’t miss some serious abuse going down for our entire lives. Do you know how many times I’ve defended his dad to him, Juliet? … Oh my god, on that same boyscout trip with the rocket, he told me his dad had never said he loved him!”

Lassiter doesn’t need to look at Jules to know she’s probably seething with the rage of the entire underworld- if he believed in such a thing. 

Henry better hope they find out it’s not as bad as it’s seeming.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Shawn gets home, Jules, Lassiter, and Gus are all sitting on the couch looking somber. Well, Jules and Gus look somber. Lassiter looks mildly offput.

“Guys! What’s all this, are we having some kinda surprise party?” Shawn looks around for decorations, but there’s nothing. He looks back with excitement. “Is it a case? A big one?”

“Shawn, sit down, we need to ask you about something.” Jules gestures for him to take a seat on a different chair.

“Uh-oh. That’s not your happy voice.” Shawn sits down and leans forward. “Hey, babe, what’s wrong?”

Jules takes a deep breath, and pulls out the notebook. Shawn looks at it. “Oh, that? Please don’t tell me that my drawing skills when I was eight are a dealbreaker.”

“Shawn, did Henry…” Jules falters. Shawn’s expression… 

It doesn’t harden, per say. It just… shifts. Becomes a little closed-off.

“Spencer, did Henry actually make you dig through broken glass to find ridiculous holiday candy?” Lassiter says, offering Jules his hand for support. She takes it.

Shawn’s mouth quirks up in the corner, a huff-laugh escaping him. His eyes aren’t as amused, a dark look in them. “What? How-how’d you know about that?”

“Oh my god.” Gus looks sick.

“Guys, seriously, what is this?” Shawn reaches out and snatches the notebook, flipping through it. Fast at first, and then slower. The slight smirk disappears completely, and Jules and Gus know that habit of sticking his tongue over his teeth means Shawn is not in a good emotional space whatsoever as he reads.

He closes the notebook and tosses it onto the coffee table, sitting back into the chair and sniffling. “It’s uh- it’s nothing.”

“Dude, that is not nothing. I thought you were making that stuff up when we were kids!”

“What? Why would I make that up?” That just seems to confuse Shawn.

“Because you were always making things up!”

“Not about my dad! You were like, the one person I could talk about him with! You thought I was lying about everything the whole time?” Now he looks hurt. 

“Not everything, but crazy stuff like him locking you in a trunk in the middle of a hot day and putting broken glass over your eggs, yeah! Oh my go- this makes me look back on everything I know in a completely different light, Shawn!”

“Okay, you can’t actually be this surprised, Gus. I mean, you were at my house all the time, you know how he was. We couldn’t even play hide-and-seek without me getting a lecture about hunting perps the right way.” The bitterness in his voice is familiar to his friends, the way he keeps from meeting their eyes, the arms crossed over his chest and tense body language. It’s not that they’ve never seen him like this. But they’ve never seen him like this and truly understood it. Even Gus.

Gus, who looks increasingly horrified as he thinks back on more and more memories. “When we were really little and you told me your dad would throw you out for reading comics, were you serious?”

Shawn scoffs a little. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Did he actually ban them?”

“... Yeah. That part he did. He said they made cops look bad.”

“Good god, Spencer, you’re talking like everything in your house was about cops twenty-four-seven.”

“Gee, Lassie, I wonder why. You’ve met my dad, right?”

“But you’re talking like he expected you to be a perfect cop from the second you were born.”

Shawn goes silent. He still won’t look at any of them.

“Oh, my god.” Jules reaches out to put a hand on Shawn’s knee. “Shawn, did he expect that?”

“... Look, guys, it’s… it’s done, alright? It is what it is, and… I’ve accepted that, and I’m working on making things work with my dad. I don’t… I don’t need this. Okay? I don’t want to think about it and get all…” He huffs. “Last time I thought a little too hard about all this stuff I ended up on my motorcycle with nowhere to go, and-and I don’t want to do that again, alright?”

“Shawn, this is important. We’re all working with Henry constantly, watching how he treats you, and this changes how some of that looks.”

“How?” Shawn finally looks at Jules, right in the eyes. “How does this change anything? He’s the same person, Jules. He-he’s controlling, and-and expects way too much, and is disappointed in me. That’s not different now just because you know he went overboard with stuff when I was a kid.”

Lassiter lets out a deep breath. He’d really… really been hoping this wouldn’t be the case. “How overboard, Spencer?”

Shawn looks at Lassie, and then clicks his tongue and looks away again. “Not in that way, man. He never hit me or anything.”

“So what did he do?”

“Why is this an interrogation?” Shawn stands up, pulling away from Jules’s outstretched hand. “This is stuff for me, and my dad to hash out, okay? Just me and him.”

“Did your mom know about this stuff?” Gus asks. 

The mention of his mom seems to make Shawn shut down even more. “Now this is really over.” He walks away, and pauses for just one second to turn around and say, “Don’t- don’t go my dad about all this. I don’t want…”

“... Don’t want what, Shawn?” Jules’s voice is soft and careful.

Shawn doesn’t seem to be able to find the end of the thought. He just shakes his head and walks back out the door.

The three sit in silence for a minute. Jules has tears in her eyes. Gus looks almost shellshocked.

Lassiter stands up. “Alright, I’m officially taking lead on this case.” He looks down at his partner. “O’Hara, find out who in the precinct knew Henry well and still works there. We’ll interview anyone who he might’ve talked to his son about, see if we can dig up any leads there.”

“Whoa, Shawn just said he didn’t want his dad finding out we’re asking about all this, and we just learned he’s way worse than we thought,” Gus says, standing up too. “We can’t start poking around the precinct, because in case you forgot Lassie, he works there!”

“Part-time.”

“He’ll know something is up.”

“Please. I think I know how to run a discreet investigation, Guster.”

“Could you hide something like that from Shawn?”

“... Of course.”

“No, you couldn’t, and if you can’t hide it from Shawn it’s a safe bet that you can’t hide it from his dad.”

Jules stands up. “No, Carlton is right. None of us realized how these pieces fit together until we all talked about it with each other, right? If Shawn won’t… can’t, open up to us about it, the next best thing is getting as many witness statements as possible.”

“Why? It just feels like digging things up to dig them up at this point.”

“Because Henry is currently in charge of Spencer’s livelihood, Guster.”

“I know! He’s in charge of part of mine too!”

“Right.” Jules looks up at Lassiter. “And if we can prove to The Chief that Henry has a negative, unreliable bias against Shawn, we can lessen some of that control!”

“As much as I’d hate to see Spencer off the leash again, I’d hate to be helping enable an abuser even more,” Lassiter agrees. 

“Abuser is a strong word.” Gus doesn’t look like he feels that sentence is 100% true. “He wasn’t all bad a lot of the time. I mean, he loosened up on the comic thing when we were older.”

“We know he cares, Gus,” Jules assures. “But, caring doesn’t mean he didn’t do something wrong. Really, really wrong.”

Gus swallows, and then nods. “I know.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They collect a good few statements over the next week.

One statement claims that Shawn would play poker with some of the officers when Henry brought him to the station- why Henry was bringing a seven year old to an active police station and then not keeping an eye on him was something that went unanswered- and that Henry was obviously upset when he discovered this. Another statement corroborated the story, and added that he caught sight of Henry taking all the money Shawn made from the games and shoving it into the police donation box.

One statement was from an elderly file sorter, who claimed that Shawn was sometimes sent down to grab files for his dad and used to complain to her that henry would only buy Shawn cop car toys, and no others. When she’d asked Shawn if he wanted to be a cop when he grew up, Shawn had reportedly said quote, “Something about not getting a choice.” Other statements claimed, when this was brought up, that Shawn seemed very excited by the idea of being a cop when he grew up- until his arrest.

One statement, given by someone Lassiter vaguely remembers being rookies with back in the day, lends more credibility to the recollections of the elderly woman. The statement claimed that when the rookie would go on ride-alongs with Henry or work under him, Henry would almost always complain about Shawn. Everything from Shawn having an interest that didn’t relate to being a cop, to Shawn ‘acting like a child’ when he would have been under twelve according to the timeline, to Shawn ‘not even trying’ during a specific incident where Henry claimed Shawn forged his signature to go on a field trip and quote “hesitated for a second with his pen or something- I remember it was something really minor, and Henry couldn’t stand it. I thought it was weird that he was teaching his son how to forge signatures and then expecting the kid to never use the skill, but it wasn’t really my place to say.”

By the end of the week, Jules is steaming and Shawn hasn’t come around the precinct at all. Gus keeps dropping by, digging up old journals of his own to use as cross-references when possible. Shawn is quiet with Jules at home, like he’s waiting for something big to happen and he’s worried he could trigger it early.

It makes Jules more upset at Henry, because now her boyfriend’s emotional immaturity seems a lot less like a natural childish nature and a lot more like having genuinely never been taught how to handle anything.

No, according to the information she and Lassiter have gathered, it looks like all Henry taught Shawn was that winning is everything, being the best is non-negotiable, and Shawn was born to be a cop and anything that didn’t align with that idea just… shouldn’t be there.

“Wow.” Lassiter tosses the latest statement onto his desk. “And I thought Henry didn’t discipline Spencer enough as a kid. Some of this stuff makes it sound like Spencer grew up in a boot camp.”

“He basically did,” Jules says bitterly, reading over one of Gus’s old notebooks. “Gus wasn’t even looking for evidence of it, and these journals are full of casual, offhand observations that look worse and worse the more we know. Listen to this one. ‘Today Shawn was in a bad mood, and when I asked him why he said his dad stole his mood ring after showing him to turn the box upside-down. I said that’s cheating, and Shawn said it can’t be if his dad said to do it.’ Who the hell steals a mood ring from a kid?”

“You’re getting caught on the small stuff again, O’Hara.”

“I know, I know. I just- now that we know some of the major things, even the small stuff is making me just unbelievably angry.”

“Yeah, it’s rough to read. At least you and I wanted to be cops.”

“Right? No wonder Shawn ended up a psychic detective, how do you just do something else after being raised so specifically like that? And no wonder he-he buys EasyBake Ovens and goofs off all the time, he had it so strict as a kid…”

“Mmmmm… let’s not excuse every antic, O’Hara. A lot fo it is still just him being a jackass.”

“I won’t get into this with you again, Carlton.”

“Good, I don’t want to get into it again either. … Heads up.”

Jules closes the notebook and tucks it into a desk drawer as swiftly and inconspicuously as possible, Lassie doing the same for his file. Henry walks past them, barley sparing a glance as he makes his way somewhere else.

Jules stares daggers at him so intensely that if dropped to the ground covered with enough puncture wounds to imitate Julias Caesar, Lassiter would think it was a mild scene all things considered.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s three weeks since Jules found the notebook when Shawn rolls over in bed, puts his arm around, and mumbles “I have an eidetic memory.”

Jules puts her book down and looks at Shawn with furrowed brows. “What?”

Shawn sighs and sits up properly. “I have an eidetic memory,” he says again, “And… I don’t like looking back, because I remember everything perfectly. Which means I usually remember what I felt perfectly too, and it usually wasn’t great feelings.” He can’t look her in the eyes this time, either, but instead of the tense, protective body language of before, he’s holding a pillow close to his chest and slightly burying his face into it, almost sagging around it.

Jules starts to rub his back. She knows how hard this kind of… difficult emotional discussion, is for him. Now she even knows why- suspects why, really, because not all of it is proven in full, but still she thinks she can cout is as knowing. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“About the memory?”

“Yeah. That sounds… really difficult to deal with, Shawn. Does Gus know?”

“Yeah, he knows. I think other than my dad, and… and you, he’s the only person who knows.”

“Shawn…”

“I just, I just want you to know… that I’m not asking you to drop it for no reason,” Shawn says, “Or-or because I don’t feel like it’s important. I know it is, I do. I just…”

“Don’t want to relive a lot of it,” Jules says softly. “... Shawn, does this mean you remember everything perfectly? All the time?”

“Eh… fifty-fifty. The ADHD gets in the way sometimes.”

“... But when it doesn’t?”

“I just try not to think about a lot of it.” Shawn moves again, to look her in the eyes, He takes a deep breath, and he looks a little pained. This kind of thing is painful for him, he’s so unsure how to navigate it. “I have to keep moving forward, Jules. It’d be so… so easy to just get stuck, forever, in all the stuff stored in my head. And I’m really, really trying to, I mean that. It’s difficult, and I’m not… always great at it, but I’m trying.”

“And you’re worried we’ll set you back?”

“No! No, I… I don’t know.” Shawn lets Jules pull him close to her chest and begin running her hand through his hair. “My dad and I don’t solve stuff, Jules. We just… argue over it. I’m getting tired of it.”

“... I understand.” She kisses the top of his head. “But I don’t like him being in charge of you when you’re a grown man anymore.”

��You think I do? … But it’s making him a lot happier than he’s been in a long time.”

“You should be happy too, Shawn.”

“Hey. Hey, I am happy.” He looks up into her eyes. “Look at me right now. I’m being cradled like a sweet little baby seal by the most beautiful, badass woman in the entire world. Of course I’m happy.”

Jules laughs a little and contorts a bit to kiss him on the mouth. “I’m glad you told me that, Shawn. And I promise, I won’t ask you to relive anything else for me.”

“... But you’re not going to stop investigating my dad, are you?”

“Did you stop with mine?”

“... Fair enough.” Shawn lays his head back down, and soon enough Jules hears soft snoring from him and mumbled phrases in his sleep.

…

An eidetic memory. Perfect recall.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Jules goes over everything they have so far knowing Shawn has a perfect memory, it makes her angry to such a degree that she thinks it might kill her. Not literally, but it feels strong enough.

She has some of Shawn’s old report cards, some statements she got from former teachers via social media contact, and some copies of pages of one of Gus’s old journals laid out in front of her, and she sees a pattern.

Shawn didn’t do good in school. His report cards are less than average, and are packed with notes about how he doesn’t pay attention, doesn’t seem to absorb any information, and doesn’t remember anything he’s taught. The statements from the teachers describe Shawn as hyperactive, passionate about everything but his schoolwork, and having difficulty with staying observant in class.

Gus’s old journals are full of the same, but also the opposite. Shawn didn’t pay attention in school, but sometimes he could pull something the teacher said from his memory word for word without even trying, and then a few entries later Gus would mention Shawn failed a test on that exact subject. Shawn got beat up because he told a bully he memorized the pattern of answers used in the math tests, but his dad told the teacher and let Shawn know he was doing it. And most of all, Gus writes about how freaky his friend’s ability to look at people and figure them out is. How Shawn notices almost everything almost all the time, and usually makes some dramatic conclusion that isn’t right, but he still notices things and Gus can’t figure out how Shawn fingers things out.

Detective training, and an eidetic memory, and psychic visions. Jules is now pretty sure that Shawn covers up some of his deductions using his visions- he’s known enough impossible information that they can’t possibly all be deductions in disguise, but when she thinks back there’s a few times where it’s obvious in hindsight he used his abilities to cover up the fact that he’s an incredible, highly-trained detective.

Maybe she’s jumping to a conclusion, but she finds herself thinking ‘Because Henry made him hate that he can do it so well,’ as she pieces it all together.

Gus’s journals lend a lot of credit to that theory. Shawn is smart, and Gus knows it, but Shawn acts dumb sometimes and Gus doesn’t understand why, and then Gus mentions that it’s weird that Henry kept Shawn up all night before to stakeout their porch and now Shawn is tired during Little League and Henry tells him to get his head in the game because Henry is the coach.

Henry is the coach, Henry is the chaperone on the field trip, Henry is their Scout Master- he’s in charge of every part of Shawn’s life except for school. And Maddie is rarely brought up, even when Gus writes about spending all day or night or even weekend at the Spencer house. Jules hasn’t seen Shawn’s Mom since Yang almost blew her up, and she just figured that Maddie wanted to stay out of Santa Barbara after that, understandably. She’s getting a different feeling about Maddie staying away now. It seems a lack of presence was her main impression in Shawn’s life, or at least, Shawn’s life through the lens of Child Gus.

So it was basically just Henry. And her heart aches for the thought of someone being stuck in a bad marriage, basically raising a kid alone, and that kid being as hyper and curious and chaotic as Shawn. But the ache is smothered in the sense of righteous rage when she reads other entries about things like a girl throwing a ball at Shawn and missing, and an ostrich choking on the ball, and Henry dragging Shawn away. The entry goes on to say that Shawn told Gus that Henry didn’t believe him when he said he didn’t do it, even after then-superior officer Captain Connors came in and tried to vouch for Shawn.

Henry always assumed the worst. Assumes, the worst, still.

Shawn tries so hard, sometimes, with his dad, and Jules is starting to realize that Henry doesn’t put the same effort in. He tries some, she knows it, she’s seen it, but she also sees him constantly berate, put down, and insult Shawn, publicly and privately. 

Suddenly she remembers something from when Shawn went undercover on the dating show, something she’d been too upset over about Shawn being there at all to really take in in the moment.

“I’m sorry, this woman is way too good for my son. If it was me, I’d vote no.”

She doesn’t have Shawn’s memory, so without rewatching the clip she can’t be totally sure those are Henry’s exact words, but she’s certain that it’s the exact sentiment.

First of all, she takes a little offense to that for herself. But secondly and more strongly, she takes offense for Shawn. As she thinks about it she can remember the way Shawn tried to cover up the awkwardness in the clip, the way the girl on the show whispered “Is this a joke?” and the way it absolutely was not. The way Henry said that on TV, to Shawn’s face, with no hint of shame.

“O’Hara.” She looks up to see Lassiter holding a cup of coffee and a bagel for her. She takes them and Lassiter says, “There’s more steam coming out of your ears than there is that cup.”

“Sorry,” she sighs. “I just… I don’t know if I can control myself tomorrow when Henry comes back in. The more I dig into this, the more I want to just- go back in time and pick little Shawn up and take him somewhere better.”

“Well as much as we don’t like it, O’Hara, Spencer is who he is because he was raised the way he was raised.”

“I know. And I like, who Shawn is!”

“Inexplicably.”

“Carlton.”

“Mmm.”

“Anyway… I love Shawn, and who he is, all of him, but I still wish he could’ve been who he is without going through all of this. It’s not okay.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Lassiter sighs. “Look, O’Hara, put the case down for a while. At this point we’ve got enough to at least make The Chief doubt some of Henry’s intentions and judgements when it comes to Spencer and, well, that was the goal.”

“... Yeah. Yes, okay, I will… I will put this down for a few days.” Jules closes up the file and puts it back into her drawer. “Shawn is still less than happy I’m working on this, anyway. He understands why, but I know he wishes he didn’t.” He probably understands a lot of things he wishes he didn’t. Jules has had to grapple with the realization that she actually doesn’t know as much about how Shawn’s mind works as she thought she knew, and that it’s possible she’ll never know a lot of it. There’s more than just psychic visions to the mystery of his mind, and some of those mysteries are locked up with a key cast out of self-resentments and resentments of his dad.

God, she hopes she can keep up a poker face when Henry comes in.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her file is missing from her desk the next day, and so is Lassiter’s. They both know why.

They march over to Henry’s desk just as Gus comes in to collect a check, and all three end up standing over Henry as he openly and unashamedly reads through the Spencer Upbringing Case File. Gus takes a step back when he realizes that’s what’s happening, as does Lassiter.

But not because of Henry.

Jules looks murderous.

Henry purses his mouth in a frown and nods, raising up the file and then closing it and tossing it onto his desk in one smooth movement. “It’s comprehensive,” he says, like he’s grading a paper. “But it’s a bunch of biased bull.”

“Give them back.” Jule’s voice is ice-cold. 

Henry shrugs, moving his head side to side for a second, still frowning, and then says, “Nah.” He takes the files, and drops them in the trash. “I think you owe me an explanation for why the head detective and his partner are investigating the way I raised my son. Why’d Shawn put you up to this?”

“He didn’t.”

Henry scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

Jules slams one hand onto Henry’s desk. The whole bullpen goes quiet.

“I was helping Shawn get something from your house, and I found a notebook,” she says. 

“Oh, so, you found one of Shawn’s little projects where he exaggerated things to make himself look like a victim of the world?”

“I found the writings of a little kid who didn’t seem to realize at the time of writing that being locked in a hot car trunk and digging through broken glass for Easter Eggs wasn’t normal.”

Henry laughs, crossing his arms. “That’s what you have a problem with? It’s called training, detective. You went through it yourself.”

“When I was an adult, by my choice, and I sure as hell never had to dig through glass.”

“You’re really hung up on that.”

“Because it’s genuinely evil!”

Henry’s smug look melts into a scowl. “How dare you.”

“How dare I?! Do you understand how much all of this is still affecting Shawn, even right now?! He can barely talk about all of this!” “Oh, well, he sure seem capable of reminding me of it.”

“Because you did it! You’re the only other person in the entire world who understood what was done to him in the name of training because you did it!”

“Done to h- you’re overreacting, detective!”

“I, agree, what is going on out here?” Chief Vick hurries over to Henry’s desk from her own. “Detectives, there had better be a damn good reason-”

“There is, Chief.” Lassiter reaches into the trashcan and pulls out the files.

“Karen, Detective O’Hara has allowed her romantic entanglement with my son to-”

“Henry was borderline abusive during Shawn’s childhood,” Jules interrupts, facing her Chief. Chief Vick’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open, a disbelieving laugh escaping her even as she accepts the files and flips them open. “You understand what it is you’re alleging, O’Hara, and against who?”

“I do, Chief, and I think our case file speaks for itself.” All eyes are on them now. Jules doesn’t back down. “I’m well aware of my emotional ties to this case, but I assure you I’m not allowing it to cloud my judgment. If I was, I wouldn’t have used the word borderline to describe the conclusions I’ve come to.”

“Karen, this is ridiculous.”

But Chief Vick is focused on the files in her hands. Her eyes flick up to Henry. “Is it?” She looks over to Gus, who’s been watching with the quiet tension of a prey animal waiting to make a run for it. “Mister Guster, can you genuinely testify to the validity and accuracy of the claims in these files?”

“Oh, um, well, most of those are from my own journals.” Gus’s eyes flick between Henry and Jules. “I’d say that’s even more reliable than just plain memory.”

“It certainly is.” Chief Vick turns her eyes back to the file. “Henry, I think after I’m done going through these we’re going to have a chat about some of your current responsibilities and extent of authority over consultants.”

“Oh, come on, Karen!” Henry looks around at the entire precinct staring, and judging. “This is completely unfounded, and-and blown way out of propor-!”

Henry doesn’t finish the sentence because Juliet O’Hara punches him in the nose.

There’s gasps from everyone in the room. Jules’s fist is bloodied. Henry’s nose went CRUNCH! when her fist made contact.For a long moment it’s like the whole room has collectively stopped breathing. 

“I don’t make unfounded accusations, Henry,” Jules breathes. “Especially not when I have been building a case for over a month, and have watched Shawn completely close off whenever I asked him about this.”

Henry holds his nose, looking at Jules with fear that Lassiter and Gus don’t think is nearly intense enough. “Juliet,” Henry pants, blood streaming out from between his fingers. “This is insane.”

“Quiet, Spencer.” Lassiter moves Jules a little farther away. Her fist is still raised. “I won’t tolerate you disrespecting my partner, especially not in the same way you do your son.”

“What?! You can’t believe all this too, Lassiter.”

“You know I’m not Shawn’s biggest fan, but if you think what O’Hara has done over the last month is anything less than the best damn investigation possible then I have to seriously reconsider some of our shared opinions of your son’s work.”

Gus glances at a box of tissues on Henry’s desk- and then subtly moves to knock them on the floor and kicks them away.

“Herny, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the precinct for a few days while this gets handled. O’Hara, I’m going to need to speak with you in my office.”

Jules lowers her fist, and nods. She knows she can’t just punch Henry and get away with it scot-free, and she accepts that.

No-one moves to help Henry. Not a single soul. He grumbles as he makes his way past Gus to grab a different box of tissues.

“It’s like he just sucks the respect out of people,” Henry grumbles. 

CRACK!

No-one is more surprised than Gus when his fist slams into Henry’s jaw. Gus reels away immediately, shrinking and cradling his hand, as Henry goes down.

“Mister Guster!” Chief Vick moves forward to try and catch Henry.

“Uuuuh!” Guss whines, shaking his hand. “I-I mean, you don’t get to say that about Shawn! He asked us not to keep doing this! You gotta stop assuming the worst of him all the time!”

“When he earns it!” Henry barks out, then groans and spits. It’s mostly blood.

“You won’t let him earn it!” Jules is furious again. “How many killers does he have to catch for you to see that your son is an amazing man?!”

“It’s not about catching killers,” Henry says, spitting again. “It’s about growing up.”

“Says the grown man who can’t even tell his son ‘I love you’.”

“He doesn’t say it either.”

“That’s not helping your case, Spencer.” Lassiter has his eyes on Jules and Gus. “And considering I’m the only one on said case who hasn’t taken a shot at you yet, I’d say keep your mouth shut.”

“Oh, what do you know.” Henry spits a third time. The Chief looks about ready to punch him herself. “Father-son relationships are complicated, especially when the father wants what’s best for the son and the son just wants to throw everything away and get himself killed!”

“You wanted him to be a cop, Spencer, you didn’t exactly put him on a path to a peaceful and easy life.”

“I put him on the right path, and he never appreciated it, and that is what your case file should say!”

“You know what, Spencer?” Lassiter takes a step closer to the bleeding man. “I’ve put up with a lot of crap from both you and your son over the years, and you two are a lot more similar than you think. But one thing I can say that Shawn has over you is that he doesn’t mean it when he says stupid crap like that.”

“He looks up to you, you ass,” Jules adds. “And he is willing to put aside all of the things you say and do to him to have a good relationship with you. Do you understand how incredible that is? That you don’t even have to work to have him in your life? That he comes to you no matter how many times you tear into him for it?”

“He comes to me because he never listens when he needs to.” Henry’s face is starting to become very purple as the bruises set in. “I don’t know what he’s been telling you, but he needs, my help.”

“Exactly! And he feels like you’re reliable enough to give it to him, and you do! So why do you treat that as though it’s a fault? Do you have any idea what I would have given as a kid, and even now, to be able to just-just go up to my dad and say ‘I need help,’ and have him be there to help me? That means the world!”

“Not to Shawn.” Henry looks pained beyond just the broken nose and possible broken jaw. “The kid is too focused on himself.”

“You don’t know your son at all, then.” Jules turns and walks with The Chief to her office.

Gus shakes his head, grabs the check out of Henry’s paperwork pile, checks that it’s signed, and leaves. 

“Oh, really? It’s up to me to take him to the hospital?” Lassiter looks around and then huffs. “Alright, Spencer. Don’t bleed on my seats, or my dashboard, or anything but yourself.”

“I’m not a bad father,” Henry says, still holding his nose. “I care about my son.”

“Yeah, and somehow Shawn knows that even though you act the way you do.” Lassie buckles Henry in for him so that the nose remains pinched. “But here’s the thing, Spencer. Your son is an arrogant, attention-hogging, impulsive, completely absurd person, and he didn’t just become like that out of a vacuum.”

“Yes he did. I did everything I could. I did everything right as much as possible.”

Lassiter sighs as he gets into the driver’s seat. “You seriously think that? You’d be okay with your grandkid being raised that way?”

“If they had Shawn’s potential, yes.”

“... Dammit.” Lassiter turns to Henry, and punches him in the gut. Henry coughs, and then chokes on his own blood, and then coughs again.

“What the hell?!” Henry gets out between hacks.

“O’Hara would’ve done it. I feel like I owed it to her. … And honestly, Spencer, after compiling that damn case, I’ve been wanting to do it for myself anyway. I already knew you were an overbearing perfectionist with a control issue, but you wishing your son was more like that than he is is even worse.”

“Shawn’s no perfectionist,” Henry wheezes. 

“But he is overbearing with a control issue more often than not. Like I said inside, you two are a lot more similar than you think, and frankly I blame you for the parts of Shawn that go past mild annoyance and into infuriating obstacle.”

“I’d never just hand a collar over to save someone’s ego,” Henry coughs out.

“See, that’s where I wish Shawn wasn’t like you.”

“He’s handed you a collar twice.”

“What? He has not.”

And Henry must be a little delirious from the repeated blows, because Lassiter is pretty sure his next words of “See, this is why Shawn should’ve been head detective,” wouldn’t come out of him otherwise.

Lassiter grips the steering wheel tighter and makes a sharp turn into the hospital parking lot. “Well he’s not, and from the sound of things he never would’ve been anyway.”

“He could’ve been a perfect cop.”

“He’d have been miserable and you know it.”

“He’d be doing things right.”

“You’re hopeless.” Lassiter isn’t any gentler helping Henry out of the car than he was helping him in. “I’m not picking you back up when they’re done with you.”

“I’ll call Shawn.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.” And Shawn will come, and probably be mad on his dad’s behalf, and will definitely be mad at all three of the punchers, because he loves his dad enough to overlook years and years of mistreatment that most people would probably consider ground for cutting contact. “And Spencer? If you ever insult O’Hara’s work again, or say anything that gets her that angry, I will help her cover up your disappearance.”

“You don’t mean that,” Henry scoffs.

“Try me.” Lassiter gets back in his car. “And if I hear from her that you’re still badmouthing your son to his face, I’ll make you disappear myself.”

And then he drives away. 

And Henry walks into the hospital alone.

#psych #psychusa #psych usa #psych 2006 #blood tw #blood mention #violence #juliet o'hara #carlton lassiter #burton guster #burton gus guster #shawn spencer #henry spencer hate #I hate Henry Spencer #psychfic #fanfic #my attemps at fanfic #abuse mention #child abuse mention #past child abuse mention

[thewriterg]

drowning, falling into you

pairing(s): miles morales x black!reader, mace morales (earth!42 miles) x black!reader, rio morales x black!reader, morales twins x punk!reader,

summary: In no shape or form did you see yourself in or wanting to go to Visions academy but you didn’t have much of a choice did you welcome the change with open arms? Hell no you happened to be angry at the world actually and you made sure to make it just about everyone’s problem

word count: 2.0k

warning(s): RUSTY Spanish, semi bullying, rocker reader, twins are like 17 pushing 18, descriptions of violence, stealing, reader can be read w an accent, wounds, and language

playlist; fiction (dreams in digital) by orgy,

A/n;—Pics from Pinterest— new series!? 🙀

she’s lost in coma where it’s beautiful, intoxicated from the deep sleep

You hummed out a response at your tour guide that you had been paying little to no mind to as the boy Kayden or Kyle you couldn’t quite care to remember showed you around your new school looking over a copy of your schedule accordingly and showing you which classrooms you had to make it to neither were you offended at the look you got when he saw all of your core classes were indeed AP

You walked behind the blonde with a slight stride in your step you were about an inch or two taller than him with the boots you wore giving you a boost in height also your electric guitar swayed gently on your back the neck of it peering over your shoulder while the body sat against the back of your thighs

“Well you’ve already got your dorm information, your locker, I think you’re all set” You now we’re in front of your first class how the hell were you going to get through a precalculus class as a junior at eight o’clock in the morning for the next seven months was beyond your comprehension

“Yeah, ‘preciate it mate” You muttered before taking a step into the classroom and just like every corny, cliche high school Disney movie eyes were on you but instead in usual desks they were all standing in various places of the classroom as the teacher a heavier dark skinned woman her gray locs pinned into a bun at the crown of her head as she stood with a clipboard originally reading off names before your presence interrupted

“You must be Miss y/l/n it’s wonderful to have you with us” The middle aged woman greeted not before double backing at your outfit that was no where near school uniform you stuck out like a sore thumb with your black leather jacket pins littering the the front and collar, your a size too big straight cut jeans black washed, and a old ripped in some places long sleeve shirt for the cooler November weather

“Y/n is fine mam, and I would say feelings mutual but I would be lying through my teeth” You could hear various snickers and giggles from around the room which you ignored waiting for further direction from the woman who sighed in tiredness any other time you would feel a slight bit of remorse for teachers who were not paid enough to do the job they did but today you couldn’t seem to care hell the school system was corrupted and narcissistic anyhow

“Well we’re in the middle of our seating arrangement change and who you’ll be sitting next to is the person you’ll be working with for the rest of the year” Not like you would be working with the poor lad anyway as time passed the occupation of seats were filled up some silently cheered at their shoulder partner while others groaned and soon you knew it your name was finally called

“Lastly we have Miss Y/l/n and Mr Morales” Mrs Brinker you had learned the woman’s name easily when it was being called over forty times in requests of a seat change called out directing you to your seat which you opted closest to the wall making sure to sling your guitar off your shoulder to sit it against it

“Hey I’m Miles! I know you’re new and if you want I can help you out and—” You watched the toffee toned boy with attentiveness which on his side looked like you were just glaring him down before you kissed your teeth opting your line of sight to the front of the classroom

“Okay” The brunette muttered awkwardly taking his seat next to you directing his attention to the smart board he had to admit that you reminded him of his twin a lot but he was still determined on getting you to speak to him… eventually

Whispering small comments to himself as Mrs Brinker went over practice problems over the board to refresh their memory over the weekend a sheet of paper was eventually passed back to you both with the instructions of one partner gets odd numbers one gets even and to finish the paper by the end of the class bell

Miles had never struggled with math but this section in particular was very difficult for him luckily it was only the second section but something about the law of sines and cosines didn’t seem to want to stick in his head so opting to look over at you and instead of working on your problems you were writing in some type of journal tapping your foot steadily even your resting face looked unapproachable

You and Mace would get along great

“Uhm do you mind helping on these last few problems… please?” The boy spoke out his last few words pleading as a squeak slipping through his teeth and he watched as you turn your body towards him a slight sigh resting on your lips as you did so

“X=1 so carry the X or the 1 whatever works best for your mental, over your total and then sum it together…” Suddenly in the middle of your explanation Miles forced himself to focus in on your voice scolding himself when his eyes drifted on your side of the two seat table along with the discovery of the small notebook had realized you’d finished your problems with the piece of paper he had to give you, he noticed you chose all odd number instead of even opposite of him who fought as if he was in war when it came to even numbers

Hed liked to think that you'd both get along fine… if he could get over the fear that settled in him when you looked at him with siren like eyes that had squeaks and helium sounds produced from his vocal chords the dark eyeliner around your eyes just enhancing the fact so with the missing part to his formula he finished the rest of his problems quicker than usual soon taking his and your paper up to the turn in bin making sure to staple it together before the fact just in time for the bell to ring

While students blared through the door out of the classroom when he was finally able to return back to his seat to get his books you were gone without a trace he didn't have time to dwell on it before he heard police sirens blaring in the distance he huffed looking up on the wall watching as the clock read 12;17 the longer red hand moving around the face faster than any other he had a conference at 12;45 as he contemplated his decisions

He could make it

💌💌💌💌

He could not make it.

“What took you so long?” He heard the distorted voice coming from a mask that could have sent chills down his spine, the looming presence that could make goosebumps rise up on his skin, could even make his knees shake.

“Got caught up in… traffic” The boy muttered the spandex of his suit clinging to his body while he could hear a deep chuckle from under the mask that made him huff

“Yeah well tell moms that you ‘just got caught up in traffic’ when she kicks your ass for being late” Miles could feel the eyeroll from under his twins mask as his claw swung slightly at his side his double braids sitting on his shoulders neatly

“Hah, so funny. What’s going on?” The slightly taller boy questions balancing off the balls of his feet as he scanned the street listening to Mace huff out a grunt in a response

“Some cow lookin’ joint, calls himself the spot. Perdiendo mi maldito tiempo, pregúntame.” The last fraise was muttered under his breath before he dropped down off the building his low gravity boots helping land smoothly and soon Miles was following after checking the time on his watch

12:27

The twins watched as the the… spotted being struggled to steal from an ATM politely asking the store owner who they referred to as “pa” to let him rob him… in peace chase him around the store with a bat in amusement Miles slipped a beef patty from the case into the microwave waiting for it to heat up while Mace simply watched the scene unfold sitting on the counter in front of the register eyes squinting behind the mask

“Why do people say ATM machine? The ‘M’ stands for machine.” Miles hung from the ceiling biting down on his snack mask pulled just over his nose watching as the… being scrambled to stand tall in his presence which sent him through another one of his own portals in response the teen jumped down from his place above the floor pushing the half of pa Lenny that wasn’t with the rest of him

“Ayo pa, how much we owe you for a beef patty and these chips man” Mace called voice even more gruff as his accent mixed with how distortion of the mask

“Prow, Spidey if you catch him? It’s on the house.”

“Woah Spiderman! This is real.” The spot hyped himself jogging in black while Miles watched him In nothing more than curiosity after he turned the isle to be faced to… black hole with him

“So are you like a Cow or… a Dalmatian?” He questioned in genuine curiosity causing a small chuckle from his twin that he wouldn’t have been able to catch without his enhanced abilities his attention adverting back to the criminal

“I am… the spot. We meet again Spiderman” Miles struggled to keep from laughing trying not to choke on the food in his mouth as loaf of bread fell through the portal of his stomach denying the accusations with his hands up

“So is that a costume orrr?”

“Unfortunately for both of us this is skin… you see I’m from your pas-” The vigilante interrupted the criminal as his phone went off causing the dotted figure to huff out a mock whine Mace checked his also getting the same notification he did fixing Miles with one look

“My bad but I really gotta wrap this up” shooting two different webs from the shooters on his wrist they traveled through a portal coming back to smack him in the face quite little as he struggled to get the sticky fluid off his mask the spot traveling out of the store before he followed chasing after him Mace sighed out a huff with a roll of his eyes sliding five dollars across the counter

“Keep the change”

💌💌💌💌

“Cant you just act like a regular supervillain so I can catch you!” Miles struggled traveling through different portals of the spot the scene was unpleasant to say the least while Mace softened the blow of things a new addition to his claw that lowered the faculty of gravity

“We’re crunching on time Hermano!” He called out after lowering a taxi to the ground after keeping it from crashing into another bodega

“Almost… done” The teen groaned dodging different fists that came from a portal before tying it with a web and before he knew it all different limbs of the spot were tied in web fluid the spot in the middle of it all after before running off

“Come back here nemesis!”

“And don’t escape!” He called back swinging from building to building Mace not far behind him on their way back to academy he was able to see the police cars he heard over all surrounding a local pawn shop that had probably got stolen from and was able to hear the head of police say something along the lines of

“That damn cat is becoming a pain in my ass”

💌💌💌💌

Hey… hey, how you guys doing 😖

Not going to lie to you started school in early EARLY August and these honors classes have been kicking my ASS.

I’m also In drama club, student council, & yearbook club so please bare with me

Trying to learn to balance everything out but I’ll get it eventually‼️

Also I’m so ready for autumn 🍂 <333

Enough with life updates,

More of the twins than anything to get us started but it’s okay because I’m HOPING to post every Monday or every other Monday

Also thank you guys so much for 1.4K I’ll start crying in here 😖

Have a good day and be safe writers !<;33 -G

#miles morales #mace morales #miles morales x reader #mace morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #black!fem!reader #black!reader #romance #fluff #fem!reader #angst #avengers x reader #avengers x you #i love you #thewriterg #2023

[savebatsartedition]

Happy Birthday Hiccup Horrendous Hadock the Third!

I've never really had a chance to celebrate this little guy's birthday, so I went ALL out! (Are you kidding me? 10 year anniversary year of How to Train Your Dragon 2, year of the dragon, AND a leap year?? There was no way I was missing it.)

So, as a little gift I made two things for him! :D

How to Throw a Birthday Party - A short oneshot set after the ending of the final book in the series. (Under the cut or in the link right there. 2,088 words.)

PISTA TOMA - Httyd books meme - I've been wanting to make one of these memes for a while, and I have had no luck in figuring out characters to make it with, so if the above fluff fic didn't suite you, enjoy a little bit of vague angst. ...in animation meme form. (Youtube video below, but if you want to see the scratch version, possibly to remix, the link to that will be in the description.)

Notes: If there are any canon inconsistencies, it’s because I haven’t read one of these books in a little under a year lol.

I did try to write it like it was really a How To Train Your Dragon book though. :3 It’s really fun to try to do haha.

Hiccup yawned and stretched in his bed, feeling the Woodensfang and Toothless' warm wings flicker against his side as the little green dragon grumbled something half asleep about the mean master waking him up. Light gently glowed from the doorway into the main room in the hut, and for a moment Hiccup felt quite like going right back to sleep.

He rolled back into his pillow, planting his face right down in the soft fabric and feathers and hissing out another yawn in a failed effort to suppress it. At his side Toothless also hissed, and as Hiccup did his best to get back to sleep (in his tiredness, he was entirely unaware of how much his movements were disturbing Toothless), the little dragon’s bright green eyes snapped open to stare angrily at the back of Hiccup's head.

“ Mean Hiccup! ” Toothless all but yelled, causing Hiccup to jump up in alarm as if he had been shot, “ T-t-Toothless was JUST getting to bed! ”

Hiccup nearly fell backwards out of the bed as Toothless headbutted him in the shoulder, his little gossamer wings flickering in the dark morning air as wisps of smoke rose from his toothless mouth. 

Holding his shoulder, Hiccup regained his balance and began to apologize to Toothless. It seemed that even after achieving relative peace after the Dragon Rebelion, there wasn't much he could do about Toothless' attitude.

Hiccup chuckled and swung his feet over the edge of the bed, fumbling for his helmet (just a regular old Hooligan helmet, that pretentious bloodstained crown would never again touch his fiery hair if he could do anything to help it) before placing the familiar weight on his head.

As Hiccup adjusted the helmet in the reflections on a shield that had apparently been put in his room with him, Toothless flapped up onto his shoulder, seeming to have forgotten all about being tired as the distant scent of breakfast reached his little warty nose.

“ W-w-ill Toothless get some of that fish downstairs? ” Toothless asked, starting directly into Hiccup's eyes even as Hiccup focused on his reflection, “ T-toothless KNOWS there's food downstairs ,” he placed a claw over his heart, “ Toothless can s-s- SMELL it, ”

Hiccup laughed and finished readjusting his helmet. (It was surprisingly difficult to get it to intentionally miss covering his dragon mark.) “ Yes Toothless, ” he said in dragonese, which was the language dragons and hopefully humans spoke to each other in, “ I'm sure you can have the fish, ”

Toothless whooped in joy and jumped into the air, turning a little summersault before landing on Hiccup's helmet. (Which very quickly titled out of the position the boy king had so carefully put it in.) Hiccup sighed and reached up to pet the small dragon. Things had gone back to normal so easily, it was almost as if they had never even changed in the first place.

“ T-toothless is the best lost thing, after all, ” Toothless all but crowed, turning circles on Hiccup's helmet as he headed out of the bedroom and into the main room of the makeshift hut the vikings had set up. (Though he was sure to grab his sword along the way, just in case. Vikings worked fast, as the hut proved, and even if they were in a state of peace, he had no proof they would stay that way for very long, no matter how much he wanted them too.)

“ Yes Toothless, ” Hiccup replied back absentmindedly, skirting around the sleeping forms of his mother and father and past the empty rolls where he knew some other Viking royalty had been put to sleep, “ Yes you were, ”

He hadn't thought about it when he was in his room, but he was pretty sure that Fishlegs and Camicazi had been missing from their own blankets when he had woken up.

Quietly he slid open the front door, careful to shush Toothless until it was closed again in case he started yelling again. (He had seen his mother twist in her sleep when Toothless had last crowed.)

“ Do you think Toothless will get to have c-cod?! ” Toothless asked excitedly, “ T-toothless is in the mood for cod! ”

“ Does it smell like cod? ” Hiccup asked him, reaching up to pick up the little dragon (and also to fix his helmet, again), " If it smells like cod you can probably have cod, ”

"Or tuna," Toothless said thoughtfully, "Toothless ALSO in the mood for tuna..."

It was a shockingly warm day out for the season, but Hiccup still shivered as a chilly ocean breeze flew past him. Toothless didn't seem to mind it so much, but he didn't argue as Hiccup placed him back on the soft fur of the vest over his shoulder.

Hiccup followed the scent as Toothless struggled to place it, though he was also somewhat unsure of what it could be, he was hungry. Maybe it wasn't smart to be walking around camp as a newly crowned King of the Wilderwest all by his lonesome, especially when he was still fairly bruised, but he didn't care. He was hungry, and he was still tired, and maybe he wasn't thinking quite straight.

He turned a corner between the tents, and suddenly the source of the smell was within his reach.

A campfire, with a large pot presumably containing many kinds of fish hung over it, sat at the center of a small clearing in the tents and huts, but that wasn't even why his heart suddenly glowed.

“Fishlegs!” he called, waving to his friend as Toothless crowed and leapt off his shoulder, aiming straight for a pile of delicious fat fish that had not yet been added to the stew, “Camicazi!”

His two friends waved back at him, grinning wide grins, but they weren't the only ones around the campfire.

“We were going to invite your parents,” Camicazi told him, elbowing him in the side good-naturedly, her mood dragon Stormfly winding around her legs like a very long, very purple cat as she wished Hiccup a good morning, “But they were dead asleep and we didn't want to wake them,”

”Hey Hiccup!“ Fishlegs grinned at him, though he looked somewhat ill (which Hiccup guessed probably stemmed from the fact that a very sleepy looking Barbra the Barbarian was sitting and chatting with some of Camicazi's Bog Burglar friends.) ”Good morning for fish, right?“

Hiccup shrugged and smiled. (Though he certainly agreed with Fishlegs, he didn't want to insult the shivering shape of his friend's vegetarian hunting dragon Horrorcow, who had once again found her place as a large lump under Fishlegs’ vest.) ”Good morning to see you guys!“

”Hiccup!“ called a voice that Hiccup recognized as Thuggory the Meathead, ”Are you gonna ask Toothless to wait until everything is done cooking or are we starting right away?!“

Hiccup turned to see the tall Viking Heir struggling with Toothless, who was eating a humongous tuna that Thuggory seemed to have been right about to dump into the stew. 

”Oh Toothless!“ Hiccup called, racing over to his snickering friend and taking him (complete with the fish larger than he was) into his arms, ” Don't you want to wait until all the cooking has been done? “ He said, continuing in Dragonese.

Toothless giggled and continued chowing down. Clearly he preferred the taste of nice raw fish. (Hiccup couldn't say he agreed, but he was glad that Toothless seemed to be subdued for a second or two.)

Hiccup placed the tuna and dragon on the floor together, trying to ignore the loud sounds of chewing that floated up from them as he reached out a hand to shake Thuggory's hand. To his surprise, the Meathead heir laughed and drew him into a hug instead.

Hiccup nearly choked as he was lifted into the air, his feet dangling for a couple of seconds as Thuggory greeted him, before he was set back down. 

”It's great to see you again Hiccup,“ Thuggory explained, ”Especially after all that cool stuff you did back there,“

”Good to see you again too,“ Hiccup laughed, though he didn't really like the constant references to the battles of the Dragon Rebelion, ”Just doing what a friend of dragons has to do,“

”Hiccup!“ called Camicazi, catching up with him. (Though Fishlegs lagged a few steps behind, not so secretly making eyes at Barbra, who was now hissing at her cat Fearless and showing the Bog Burglars how sharp the claws of the little animal were.) ”Hey!“

Hiccup turned to her, though he was momentarily distracted by the sight of several Hooligan boys sitting together on a large rock. He had missed them more than he had expected in the time he'd been gone, it seemed, because even the sight of Dogsbreath (who was laughing with Clueless about something for a change) put a smile on his face.

“Yeah?” he asked, shooting Speedyfist a smile, “What is it?”

“Aren't you going to ask why we're all here now?!” he asked, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. Even though she was a head or so shorter than him, Hiccup thought she could look extremely intimidating if she chose to. 

“Um,” Hiccup thought for a second, but, still groggy from sleep, he had nothing. “Breakfast?” He asked, giving her a pained smile as she slapped a hand to her face and sighed. (*”Boys,“*)

”It's for your birthday!“ Fishlegs said, finally stumbling over to the group.

“My what?” Hiccup asked, completely blindsided by that answer. Hadn't his birthday been quite a while back now?

”You only get one once every four years,“ Camicazi pointed out, speaking slowly and patiently as if she really believed he was as stupid as she pretended she thought he was, ”and we felt bad that you missed it, so we wanted to throw a celebration!“

“My- ah!” Hiccup yelped as Toothless' sharp claws dug into his leg, he seemed to have had his fill of the fat tuna, “What- Thank you-“

Thuggory slapped him on the back, laughing again. ”It's what dragon markers do, eh?“

Fishlegs nodded, and even Horrorcow stuck her head out from under his vest for a second to speak. ” I do wish we had considered vegetarians before planning the meal, “ she said politely, ” do you happen to have any carrots? “

Hiccup frowned and stuck his hands into his pocket, he always carried a slice of carrot precisely for this purpose. ” In fact I do Horrorcow! “ He grinned, holding it out to the sad looking hunting dragon, ” enjoy! “

She thanked him and immediately began chomping into the orange vegetable. Hiccup smiled, to his tired mind, the interaction hadn't seemed odd at all, but as Camicazi spluttered into laughter and Fishlegs blinked at him in confusion, Hiccup began to realize that it might have sounded a bit odd to those that didn't understand dragonese.

“I should start teaching you guys dragonese,” he mused, scratching Toothless between his horns as he turned to look at the mess of fish guys he had left on the sandy rocks below them. (And on Hiccup's boots it seemed.)

“You're just not gonna address that?!” Camicazi half shrieked, half laughed, nearly doubled over at the force of her laughter, “You just had a carrot in your pocket? Why?!”

Hiccup brushed a strand or two of hair out of his eye and, in a fake offended voice, told her that he cared about his friends enough to do so if the friend in question called for it.

This caused her to howl with laughter again, and this time Hiccup couldn't help but join in. This all felt strangely comfortable, for some reason. From the small circle of closer friends that were giggling with (and at) him, to the gaggles of Hooligan boys and Bog Burglar girls on opposite sides of the fire, to the random smattering of hunting and riding dragons that had decided to stay with their humans, this felt nice.

“Thank you all,” Hiccup murmured, still scratching a now purring Toothless and Thuggory began to call that the stew was done, “It really means a lot that you would do this for me,”

“ And for m-me! ” Toothless said, yelping happily and jumping into the air as the covering once again came off the large pot, which he seemed to have just realized was the perfect heat for a dragon such as himself, “ T-toothless loves fish baths! ”

And it was all Hiccup could do to warn Thuggory that he was about to half to fish a very happy little dragon out of their food.

#httyd books #httyd #writing #animation #hiccup horrendous haddock the 3rd #toothless #Thuggory the meathead #snotface snotlout #fishlegs no name #camicazi #horrorcow #implied death #eyestrain #video #Youtube

[j0elmill3r]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Miller!Reader, Joel Miller x Daughter!Reader

CW - Nightmares, panic attacks, violence

Request - Hi Amy!! I'm literally in love w reading ur fics, it's my fav part of the day... I was wondering if you could do an Ellie x reader where Ellie has a nightmare (maybe abt the reader and Joel getting hurt) and the reader ends up having to get her dad (Joel) to help wake Ellie up. end in fluff and stuff. ty!!

Summary - Ellie has a nightmare about you getting hurt and you don't know how to help her, so you get the one man you know can help; Your dad.

A/N: My first Ellie fic!! Please let me know what you all think, I really enjoyed writing this! Also, for this, personally I imagined Ellie as Part 2 game Ellie!

Word count - 1.1k

Joel Miller Masterlist

"Fuck!"

Ellie turned sharply as she heard you yell out and then gasp, and her heart dropped as she saw the blade of his machete poking out of your chest as it was stabbed through your back. Pulling it out, your attacker shoved you into your girlfriends arms, in which she caught you and held you close to her. You tried to stammer out a coherent sentence, but nothing came out other than panicked gasps, groaning in pain as Ellie sat on the ground with you - Your head on her lap as your back hit the ground softly, blood slowly pouring from the stab wound going from your chest through to your back.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, you're gonna be okay," Ellie assured you, even though she knew that this was far from okay as she had told you it was. "I've got you," She said softly, laying your head in her lap as you looked up at her, fear and panic evident in your eyes. "Keep your eyes open, please Y/N." Ellie pleaded, noting the tiredness in your eyes and that your panicked and pained gasping and crying had ceased. Your now shallow breathing became more slowed, tired and heavy eyes looking up into your girlfriends eyes.

"I...I love...you," You breathed out, giving Ellie a tired smile as blood began to slowly trickled out of the side of your mouth. Her breathing increased as yours slowly dwindled, shutting your eyes and going limp in Ellie's lap, your arm falling to the side of yourself as your heart stopped.

"No," She gasped out, scrambling to kneel over your lifeless body, which continued to bleed out from the cavity of your chest. "Y/N? Y/N, wake up. This isn't fucking funny," Ellie cried through gritted teeth, shaking your lifeless body to will you to wake up - But despite her best efforts, you remained limp. "Y/N! Come on!" She yelled, openly sobbing as she continued to try and get you to wake up.

"Y/N!"

You were startled awake by Ellie's screaming, waking up with a gasp and reaching for the knife you kept on the bedside table in case it was an intruder, and your girlfriend was in trouble. You, however, looked over and noticed that she was still in bed, but was crying out and yelling for you to wake up.

"Ellie?" You grabbed her arm and shook her, hoping that you could wake her up. "Els, come on, you're scarin' me," She continued to scream and cry as you willed her to wake up. Panicking, you done what you always did when you were scared and didn't know what to do - You went to your dad, who you were surprised hadn't already woken up due to Ellie's screaming. Running down the hall, you busted into your dad's room. "Dad! Dad wake up!" You shook him roughly, watching as he woke up instantly - He didn't have time to consider things when you were this frantic, it was something he'd learned to do in the months following the outbreak, just in case he quickly had to grab you and run.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Joel noticed the panic written on your face and the tear streaks marking your face, more tears glistening in your eyes from what he could make out with the only light being that provided by the moon, glowing brightly in the dark nights sky.

"S-somethin's wrong with Ellie, she won't wake up and she's screamin' and cryin'," You cried to your father, who quickly got out of bed and made his way down to your bedroom, you following behind him and wincing as Ellie continued to scream. Joel quietly entered your room and watched as Ellie slowly calmed down, he knew that you couldn't bear to see your girlfriend so upset. Ellie eventually stopped crying and calmed down, slowly waking up and rubbing her eyes, her chest still heaving.

"Joel?" She noticed the figure of your father sat on your side of the bed, concern written on his face. "What...Where's Y/N? Joel!" Ellie suddenly remembered her nightmare. Joel placed his hands on the girls shoulders comfortingly.

"She's fine, just a bit spooked by what happened," He told her, nothing but fatherly concern on his face as he watched Ellie recover from her nightmare. "Y/N," Your dad called you in softly, and you tentatively made your way into your room, stumbling back a bit as Ellie launched herself into your arms, holding you tightly. "I'll leave you girls." You nodded at your dad as he left your bedroom and headed back to his own.

"You're okay," She breathed out in relief, studying your concerned face as you looked at your girlfriend. You smiled at her comfortingly and nodded, even though you were confused at what she meant.

"Of course I'm okay," You assured her, putting both of your arms around her and placing a kiss to the top of her head. "Are you? You seem upset." You asked Ellie, watching as she sniffled and shook her head, flashbacks of your death playing her head - The panic in your eyes as she held you as you died, she thought.

"I...I had such a bad dream where you died and there was all this blood and I don't know who did it and you-you were terrified," Ellie cried - It was in these moments you realised that Ellie most likely had no comfort when it came to nightmares when she was younger, so found comfort in you asking her what happened, even if it clearly pained her. The two of you got back into bed, Ellie cuddling up to you and resting her head on your chest. "I couldn't do anything to help you." She said quietly. You frowned and pursed your lips, unsure of what to say to try and comfort Ellie.

"I'm okay, I'm not going anywhere, okay?" You assured her, looking down at her. "I love you." You pressed a kiss to her lips, smiling to yourself as you felt her finally relax.

"I love you too."

Joel Miller Tag list - Want to join? Fill out this form!

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#joel miller x daughter!reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams hbo #ellie williams x miller!reader #x daughter reader #x daughter!reader #x daughter #hbo the last of us #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic

[yourlocalghoulette]

Chapter 2~ Take On Me

Series Masterlist~ Main Masterlist~Meet the horses~

Warnings- eventual smut so MDNI! pretty much just fluff, reader has trauma, language, slow burn, flirting, relationship building

w/c: 3k

A/N~ part 2 is hereee! im literally so excited to be writing this story. part 3 is already in the works! please reblog, it always helps! Lmk if you want to be on the taglist:))

It was only when you got Joel’s number and scheduled your first work day that it started feeling real. Doing this, being around horses again, the thing that hurt you more than anything. 

Well, it wasn’t the horses that hurt you. It was the way you were forced to push your limits with them. The way you were yelled at if you didn’t do something right. The way your stomach sank every time you were forced to use an unneeded pair of spurs on a horse.

Sleep doesn’t come easy Thursday night, the night before the long-awaited first day. You toss and turn in your bed, palms clammy and forehead sweaty. You kick off the matcha-colored bedspread you were wrapped in and sit up in bed, trying to take deep breaths to clear your head. You glance at your phone. 2:00 AM. If you know Sōl well enough, she’s probably at a party. She definitely won’t answer until morning. 

So you text the one person who also might not be awake but still understands. Joel.

You click on the chat that only a few formal messages have been exchanged in and wonder if you’re being too impulsive. What is he going to think about you texting him at two in the morning? Your mind clouded with sleepiness and delusion, you text him anyway.

You- sorry for texting so late. having second thoughts about tmrw. 

To your surprise, the ‘read’ icon pops up as soon as you send it. 

Joel- i understand how you feel. are you wanting to cancel tomorrow? i was looking forward to it.

Did you want to cancel? Your brain is in a frenzy. He’s looking forward to it, you think over and over.

You- idk. i think still want to come tomorrow but I’m gonna take it slow:)

Joel- that makes sense and it’s totally good with me. can’t blame ya for feeling reluctant. you can pace things as slow as you want, ok cowgirl? 

The nickname jumped off of your screen at you and butterflies take off inside your stomach. 

You- ok cowboy;) thanks. excited to see u and the horses tmr!

Joel- likewise. now get some sleep, cowgirl. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you turn off your phone. The conversation was short but sweet and oddly comforting. 

You silently pad over to the kitchen and quickly make a cup of chamomile tea with lots of honey. While you drink it, you shamelessly open the stable’s website and scroll to the picture of Joel and Sarah. You look closely at Joel’s left hand, resting over Sarah’s shoulder. 

No ring.

Ok, he wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean much. He could still be dating, you tell yourself. Even with that possibility, you catch yourself smiling softly at the photo, staring into Joel’s dark brown eyes. Soft and comforting, like the tea you’re drinking. You sigh and walk slowly back to bed, rubbing your eyes which at this point are bloodshot from tiredness.

With Joel’s messages imprinted in your head, you quickly fall asleep.

“Un-fucking-believable. I gave you one. Job. ONE job! To win the goddamn gold medal. And what did you do? You knocked over FOUR jumps. You are a dissapointment to this team. To the profession of jumping.”

“Please- I-I’m sorry, the horse was acting weird! Probably because you made me whip him when he doesn’t need it!”

“Don’t use those goddamn tears on me. Maybe I should show you how a whip feels.”

You wake up three hours later in a cold sweat, your face streaked with tears. You breathe heavily, your hands shaking with each breath. You run your hands over your face. 

“It’s just a memory,” you whisper over and over to yourself. You try to breathe in through your nose and out your mouth, calming yourself down.

Sometimes you wish you don’t have to wake up in an empty bed, no one by your side to comfort you. It stings when you think about the last time someone was in your bed. 

You shake the memories away for right now. Taking one last deep breath to attempt to ground you, you climb out of bed. You skip breakfast, not sure if you would be able to keep any food down with the amount of nerves flitting in your stomach. 

You brush your teeth and throw on some mascara quickly, your hands still shaky and making it difficult. You put on a black tank top and faded boot cut jeans, along with a loose red flannel because it can get cold in the early Texas mornings.

It’s 6:00 on the dot when you slide on your steel-toed work boots, tucking them under your jeans. You grab your keys and a granola bar just in case and head out the door.

As you struggle to start your old pickup truck, second thoughts and anxieties start to fill your mind once again. You struggle to push them out of your head, filling it instead with the thought that you get to see Joel again. Nevertheless, your hands shake around the wheel as you drive the short drive to Sarah’s Stables. 

When you pull into the driveway, Joel is sitting outside the barn on the concrete bench, shaking his leg with a nervous expression on his face. You step out of your truck and stride over to Joel as he stands up, trying to put on a confident smile even though the last thing you feel is confident. 

“Morning,” Joel grins, shaking your hand firmly. His hand lingers on yours a little longer than it should before he pulls away. 

“G’morning, cowboy,” you tip an invisible hat, and he returns the gesture. He leads you into the barn, gesturing you to follow with his hand.

“Did’ya get any sleep last night?” He asks with a hint of concern in his voice, making your heart melt. 

You shrug. “Kind of. And I’m really sorry for texting you so late- or, early? I didn’t really have anyone else to text.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joel waves it off. “I liked it, having someone to talk to even for a bit. I’m always up past 2 doing paperwork and ordering feed and all that shit.”

“Good to know,” you grin, trying to hide the flustered expression on your face. You enter the barn, immediately walking up to the small Shetland pony’s stall. “Hey, buddy,” you coo, gently tracing the long stripe down his face. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

Joel chuckles, leaning next to you on the stall door. “That’s Orion. Rescued him along with the percheron, Amadeus, from an animal hoarder.”

“So you’ve had a rough time with humans, huh, bud?” You nod understandingly. “I get it.”

“Very. I get it too,” Joel says softly. “So. Let’s get to work, huh? I’m gonna show you the different feed mixes for each horse. Not sayin’ you’ll have to feed ‘em every time you’re working here. We’ll feed the horses then I’ll introduce you. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect. It feels weird, being at a barn after so long of avoiding horses, y’know?” you sigh softly. “Is it too soon to say I have a good feeling about you and this barn? Like…I don’t know how to explain it. It just feels different.”

Joel nods knowingly, toying absentmindedly with Orion’s forelock. “Not at all. I get it,” he says understandingly. His eyes soften as he watches you interact with Orion, a slight faraway look on your face. “You doin’ okay, cowgirl?”

You nod, straightening up. “Yeah. Sorry. Just…zoned out.”

“No need to apologize,” Joel smiles softly. A tall cinnamon colored Tennessee Walker down the aisle kicks his stall door in impatience. “Let’s do this.”

In less than 20 minutes, the horses are fed and happily nickering into their feed buckets. Joel had written down the feed mixes for each individual horses with care and posted it on the wall so you didn’t have to memorize them right away. You can tell how much Joel Miller cares for his horses. 

“We can turn the horses out now.” Joel tosses you two halters, a purple nylon one and a teal rope one. “Think you can handle two horses at once?”

“Totally.” You sling the halters over your shoulder. 

“The rope halter is for Whiskey, the Tennessee Walker and the nylon is for Dottie, the Appaloosa mare. Stalls 5 and 6.”

In no time, you worked together to get all six horses out to the pasture. It’s picturesque, a large green field with a tall white fence surrounding the perimeter. It feels like a daydream watching the horses frolic aorund with eachother, enjoying their taste of freedom after being caged in a stall for the night. 

You and Joel sit on the lower bar of the fence, arms resting along the top piece with your head on top. Observing the horses’ behaviors carefully, you can see with the way the chestnut Quarter Horse gelding pins his ears and threatens any horse that gets close to his pile of hay that he’s top dog. The dominant horse, the leader.  A comfortable silence falls between you and Joel, as you both let out a collective sigh of relief as the stress of morning feeding washes off. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Joel sighs, breaking off the silence. 

“Gorgeous,” you agree, glancing over at Joel. His soft brown eyes are full of adoration for his horses.

He gestures towards the chestnut Quarter Horse. “That right there is Magnum. Total powerhouse. Used to be a ‘coon hunting horse.”

You giggle, staring over at Magnum’s solid build and shiny coat. “People still hunt for raccoons?”

Joel shrugs incredulously. “I guess. His owner gave him to me because he wasn’t getting enough attention. He was ridden twice a week and left to rot by himself in a field the rest of the time. He’s obviously dom, as you’ve probably noticed.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I noticed. I can tell he has a strong personality, too.” You grin, looking over at Joel.

“Sure does,” Joel smiles back proudly. Your shared gaze lasts a little too long before you turn your head away, looking back at the horses and trying to hide the flustered expression on your face. 

Joel introduces you to the rest of the horses; Amadeus, the percheron, Dottie, the petite Appaloosa mare, and Arizona, the gorgeous flaxen-colored mustang/Arabian cross. 

“Say, have you eaten anything for breakfast yet?” Joel asks, holding out his hand to help you up from your perches on the fence. 

You’re sure this man is going to be the death of you. You shake your head sheepishly, gently grabbing his hand as you stand up. His grip is soft and warm, hands calloused from years of hard work. “Not really,” you say as you let go of his hand. “I was too nervous.”

“What, am I that scary to ya’, cowgirl?” He grins cheekily, nudging your shoulder playfully as you both walk back into the barn.

“Pfft,” you roll your eyes as you nudge him back. “No, not scared. Terrified.” You stick your tongue out at him. 

“Ha, ha, darlin’. Why don’t we go get some breakfast? Gotta fuel up before cleanin’ the stalls.”

You shrug. “Sure. Where were you thinking?”

“Home Grounds is a good coffee shop, good bakery stuff too,” Joel offers. 

“No fucking way,” your eyes widen in surprise. “I work there! How have I never seen you there?”

“You must not be on the clock when I go. I’m sure I’d remember a face like yours,” Joel says softly, then catches himself, clearing his throat. “Sorry, that was-”

“It’s fine,” you wave it off. “Let’s go. We can take your truck. Mine’s a little…messy right now.”

Joel chuckles. “Sure as hell can’t be as bad as mine.”

Soon, you’re driving with Joel to the coffee shop, Take On Me by A-ha playing quietly through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You smile widely, opening the window and resting your arm outside. 

“Me too,” Joel turns up the stereo. “You sing at all, cowgirl?”

You shake your head quickly, eyes wide in mock horror. “Not at all. Do you, cowboy?”

“A bit. I play a smidge of guitar, too,” he smirks. 

“Oh, really? I’m gonna have to hear some of these Joel Miller guitar skills sometime,” you grin.

Joel shakes his head, a smile growing on his face as he pulls into the coffee shop driveway. “Believe me, I hype up my skills wayyy too much.” He turns off the truck and quickly runs around to your side of the truck to open your door. Butterflies take off in your stomach as he does this. 

Hiding your flustered look, you deadpan him, eyes rolling. “Dude,” you grin, climbing out and he shuts the door behind you. 

“What?” He opens the coffee shop door for you too. “Momma always taught me to be a gentleman.”

“And my mom always taught me to never trust men,” you grin cheekily.

“I can change that,” he side eyes you. 

Trying to ignore his words, you wave at a coworker. “Hey, Jess!” You call to her, walking up to the counter. 

“Hey, girlie. Who’s that?” She asks slyly, eyeing Joel. “New boyfriend?”

“Uh, no,” you say quickly before Joel can hear. “I’m working for him. He owns a horse barn.”

“You’re back to horses?” Jess inquires, cocking a brow. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, okay?” You spin around to face Joel. “What are you getting?”

“Just a black coffee and blueberry muffin, but don’t worry, cowgirl. I gotchu.” He starts taking out his wallet but you playfully swat his arm.

“Don’t. Please. I get employee discount anyway.”

Joel sighs in defeat, holding up his hands in mock offense. “Fine. But I’m paying next time.”

Next time, next time, next time….

After you order, the black coffee for him and a cold brew for you, you go to put your card in the reader to notice Joel’s card is already there. “Joel!” You mutter, giving him a disapproving look. 

“Hey, I’m tryna be nice, okay?” He chuckles. 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. Thanks, really.”

The atmosphere felt charged with an unspoken tension as you both sat at a small table by the window, the warm sunlight filtering in. Joel's eyes seemed to hold a certain depth, a familiarity that stirred something within you.

"So, tell me about yourself, cowgirl," Joel said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

You took a sip of your cold brew, gathering your thoughts. "There’s not a whole lot to tell. Well, there is, but not a lot I want to go into right now. I fell in love with horses after riding a pony at a fair, and it kind of exploded from there. I started off riding Western and doing gymkhanas, then switched over to hunter/jumpers. That was obviously a huge change. I exelled really quickly in that, but as you probably know, being the best doesn’t mean you’re treated the best. A lot of shit happened at those barns, and I quit when when I was 18. People called me selfish and self-absorbed for quitting, which is what i believed for awhile. But my mental health imrpoved a lot after quitting and I came to accept the fact that it was a good thing.”

Joel nodded, his expression understanding. "I get that. Sometimes life throws us curveballs, and we need to take a step back to reassess things."

"Yeah, exactly," you replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his understanding. "But now I'm back, and I'm hoping things will be different this time."

"I'm sure they will be," Joel said with a reassuring smile. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, cowgirl."

You felt heat creeping up your cheeks at his compliment, quickly taking another sip of your cold brew to hide your reaction. "Thanks, Joel. I appreciate that."

The conversation flowed effortlessly between you, covering everything from your favorite books to your shared love of old John Wayne western movies. With each passing moment, you found yourself becoming more and more drawn to Joel, his easygoing nature and genuine kindness pulling you in.

Before you knew it, your cups were empty, and it was time to head back to the barn. As you walked side by side with Joel, the familiar feeling of nervous excitement bubbled up inside you once again.

As soon as you walk back into the barn, he turns on a 70s playlist and tosses you a mucking fork. “Ready to muck some stalls, cowgirl?”

The music fills the barn with a nostalgic vibe as you take the mucking fork from Joel with a grin. "Born ready," you reply, matching his playful tone.

Together, you fall into a rhythm of cleaning the stalls, the repetitive motion oddly soothing as you work side by side. Joel hums along to the music, occasionally breaking out into a soft whistle that echoes through the barn.

As you work, you can't help but steal glances at Joel, admiring the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt with each movement. There's something comforting about his presence, a sense of safety and warmth that you haven't felt in a long time.

Before you know it, the stalls are clean, and the horses are happily munching on fresh hay. You wipe the sweat from your brow, feeling a sense of satisfaction at a job well done.

"Thanks for your help, cowgirl," Joel says, giving you a grateful smile as he leans against the stall door.

"No problem," you reply, returning his smile. "It was actually kind of fun."

Joel chuckles, pushing himself off the door. "Glad to hear it. You've got a talent for this, you know?"

You feel a swell of pride at his words, a sense of validation that you haven't felt in a long time. "Thanks, Joel. That means a lot coming from you."

He gives you a nod of appreciation before glancing at his watch. "Well, I hate to cut this short, but I've got some paperwork to take care of. Think you can handle things on your own for a bit?"

You nod confidently, eager to prove yourself. "Of course. I'll hold down the fort."

"Great," Joel says, giving you a pat on the shoulder. "I'll be back in a bit. And hey, if you need anything, just give me a shout."

With that, he disappears into the office, leaving you alone in the barn. You take a deep breath, feeling a surge of determination coursing through your veins.

You may have started the day with doubts and anxieties, but now, as you stand in the quiet of the barn surrounded by the gentle sounds of the horses, you feel a sense of purpose wash over you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #mrs ohara writes shit #pedro pascal #the last of us

[undercoverpena]

ten times better

matt murdock x fem!reader

an: newly pregnant reader, HEA, but read with caution. wordcount: 1.3k. for @mrsstrugglebarnes who requested matt being told about a new little one.

He knows you've not been feeling well. Either your head down the toilet or lying horizontally in bed or on his sofa. So drained, you don't even fight him when it comes to staying at his.

Even as Matt comes through the door, he waits.

The last few days, an overpowering scent of bleach and perfume hit him, something which would give someone without his particular skill a headache. It does make him smile, though.

Because you didn't need to mask how ill you were. He could tell. Each time you tried to stomach something, you found yourself either curling up or in his bathroom. Tiredness having swept over you, and an irritation you put down to being run-down.

He knows it's bad because you miss work. And, you never miss work.

The phone call at lunch had almost persuaded him you'd been feeling better, your tone more chipper. So, as he waits at the door, he's pleased to know it's not a lie. No strong vanilla scent hitting him, no bleach, and more importantly no overzealous amount of perfume.

He calls out for you, a short answer coming from the bathroom as he loosens his tie and places his bag on the armchair.

He'd be suspicious, but you hated talking to anyone (never mind him) when you were in the bathroom. An uncomfortableness you'd rather avoid, even going as far as to text him a reply to a question if you were being held in there too long.

Opening the fridge, the leftovers from last night remained in there, untouched. You'd assured him you'd eat before you nipped out, needing some things his place no longer had. He ponders mentioning it, instead choosing to grab a beer.

“So, Foggy’s asked if we fancy going to the bar tonight—and I did tell him, you weren’t feeling great," Matt says, uncapping the bottle, pausing to take a sip. "So we can stay in, order something?"

He hears the toilet flushing, turning to face you, removing his glasses from his face as the door opens, wearing a smile, thankful you don't smell like vomit or a recent shower.

"He does want a rematch on the pool table, I think he's still…”

His voice fades out, head tilting as he listens to how your heartbeat increases. Able to tell you’re suddenly stressing, the perspiration from your skin meeting the air, the sound of your teeth nipping at your bottom lip.

Sometimes, sensing everything felt overwhelming. He wished he had sight, even just on occasion to help him fill in the gaps.

Placing the bottle down, he moves closer, finding his throat has gone dry. A lump suddenly appearing, one which doesn’t settle the closer he gets. Not even as he begins to feel you shake, a slight tremble to your form that’s never there.

“Sweetheart?”

“I’m... I'm okay…”

He half-smiles, because of course you’re making him feel better. Of course you’re trying to assure him, when you’re not feeling yourself.

Placing his hand on your cheek, he feels the warmth from your skin. Noticing how you do a little inhale, a little jump at his touch. As though you didn’t expect it, didn’t know it was happen.

He whispers your name, feeling your eyes lift from whatever is in your hand to him. Just as his other hand cups over your hands, half-expecting paper or your phone, instead finding a stick. Two sticks. Three.

“I’ve been so careful…”

Frowning, he runs his fingers along them, trying to place them, trying to drown out your panicked heart rate and noticeable shake to your voice. Just so he can concentrate, just so he can get to the bottom of it and begin making you feel better.

Because he’s only ever seen you like this once before.

When you were at his front door, rain falling from your nose, fingers and clothes. Your voice all shaky, heartbeat all irregular; the scent of smoky New York on your clothes, and the horrid downpour.

It’s the night after he told you what he does when he goes out. Why he's coated in bruises and scars. Why he's hard to reach. A horrid 24-hours later where you told him you couldn’t be his friend anymore.

Instead, wanting to be something more.

Because you loved him. You’d loved him for years. The struggle of holding it all in; of containing it all. As if he’s not been doing the same—not suspecting he’s been wrestling with it too. His truth set your feelings free, him letting you in proving it was all worth it.

“…and I get it, your life is complicated enough,” you begin, and he realises you're crying. Tears falling heavy, body shaking more and more. “And I know your religion c-compels you against one option, but you don’t h-have to be here… I won’t h-hold you to it.”

Matt says your name. Sharper. More confused than anything. But it comes out sharp all the same. His other hand moves to your shoulder, leaning closer as if it'll do anything to help him work it out.

His hand clutching yours tighter, feeling you tighten your hold on the sticks. And as your mouth parts, it hits him.

Dawns on him. Reminds him how much of a fucking idiot he is. Because he knows what they are now. He’s placed them.

All of the sounds, scents and worries making sense to him.

“I’m pregnant…”

“We’re.”

He says it too quickly. Almost like a correction.

He groans, mainly at himself. It’s stupid. No real need to correct you. But he’s done it, only realising a moment later why.

Because it’s true.

And it takes a second, his mind whirring before he feels a smile begin to ebb. He feels the worry slide from his shoulders, joy beginning to grow in its place.

Smiling, he strokes his fingers against your cheek, wiping the tears he can from your skin. “We are pregnant, sweetheart. You’re not… you’re not doing this alone,” he soothes.

“Your life—“

“Is ten times better with you in it,” he interrupts, nodding if only for himself. “I want this. You. Me.” His hand clutching your other hand tighter, letting a smile blossom out over his features, hearing you see it.

You swallow, moving closer, his hand moving from your fist to your waist, thumb drawing circles over your clothes.

“I want this too,” you whisper, sniffling as he smiles wider.

“Me too.”

You snort, before sniffling, “But, I’m going to get so grumpy.”

“We’ll be okay.”

“And needy, I’ll be so needy.”

He smirks. “I think I can live.”

“And, I’ll eat so much.”

He laughs, kissing your forehead. “Maybe, you won’t skip meal times then.”

“You’re really not mad?”

Frowning, he pulls you flush against him, licking his lips as he tilts your face up to meet his. “How could I be mad, when the love of my life is making me become something I only ever dreamed about.”

“You sure?”

“Of course,” he smiles, feeling your hand brush against his cheek, suddenly realising he’s crying too. “I never… I never thought I’d even find happiness, sweetheart. Never mind this. Never… you’re making me a dad!”

You laugh, all tears spluttering as you curl into him. The scent of your shampoo meeting his nose, a sudden need to have you this close all the time—a protectiveness rushing through him.

Only broken from doubling when you speak again.

“Do… do you think in a few weeks you’ll be able to hear them?”

He frowns, just for a second. And then he realises what it is you mean. He grins wider, a smile so large it began to hurt.

“I hope so,” he says, kissing your hair.

“Me too.”

The two of you rock on the spot, taking a moment in the joy for it to sink in. Him waiting to feel nervous, panicked, but thankful it never comes. Not even as you begin to move, mumbling about putting your pee sticks down and washing your hands.

It’s only as his skin gets cooler without you next to him, that the scent of the beer he's opened meets his nose. Hearing your feet head to the bedroom as you call out you'll get changed before suddenly pausing.

“And, Matt?”

He smiles, turning his head somewhat in the direction.

“Shotgun not telling Foggy he’s becoming a Godfather.”

And he smiles before it drops. Only half-imagining how unbearable, but brilliant, Foggy will be. All the lines he’s going to hear, and the horrid Italian accent.

all a part of this challenge, inbox still open.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil x fem!reader #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock x female reader

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 30: Self-Worth/Self-Love ~ James Norrington/OC [1.973 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here, and my behemoth of a main fic about these two is here 💜✨

This is the final bit in the little mini storyline I had going on with these - it's first referenced in day 10, it builds a bit in day 21, and we dig into it properly here!

On their final night in London together, Theo had to concede that she hadn’t had half as bad a time as she’d expected. In fact, she hadn’t had a bad time at all. Sure, she spent the first couple of weeks waiting for all to suddenly turn bitchy towards her, using things she’d said when her guard was down to mock the begloved Irishwoman who may or may not have been a witch, but…it didn’t happen. And now their final social occasion, their farewell dinner, was drawing to a close, and she had to accept that it simply was not going to happen. Screw interdimensional time travel, this was the real miracle.

She’d even taken to dressing how she actually wanted to dress. Alright, leggings and band shirts were still out, but to her own tastes as far as fashions of the time went – rather than cosplaying as whatever she thought people would expect Mrs Norrington to appear. Which often meant dressing how Elizabeth would.

The last of their guests, Lord and Lady Montague, remained in the drawing room as the others left in order to finalise business, and everything was looking decidedly golden.

“I’ll confess, Admiral Norrington,” the older man insisted on continued use of James’ former title – a mark of respect, she thought, “I was prepared to come here, listen to some hare-brained scheme, before throwing what little gold and help I possibly could at it merely as a personal favour to Governor Swann.”

“Oh really, Henry,” his wife scolded, very half-heartedly, from where she sat beside Theo.

“I wouldn’t say it now if it had all proven true,” he pressed on. “I confessed myself impressed, by your plans, by your lovely wife, by you, by all of it. And very optimistic. You go forth with my full backing, and not just the sort that I offer out of obligation to save any awkwardness.”

Theo smiled, bowing her head as Lady Montague – or Alice, as she insisted she call her – squeezed her arm as if in agreement. Her experience with the upper crust of English society had begun with Beckett, and he was an act she had no wish to see repeated.

The Montagues stood, James and Theo following suit as Henry continued.

“I wish you luck, not that I think you’ll need it, going forth – and going forth with all the support you might need, from myself at least. And my contacts in the north. I’ve already written to them, I did so last night so I could reassure you of that fact before we saw you off.”

It was taking all Theo had not to start literally jumping for joy. As James expressed his thanks, Alice rounded on her and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Speaking of writing, you must promise to do so! You’ve been such a breath of fresh air, Theodora, I’m going to miss you sorely when you’re gone! You must come again. I insist, I really do.”

“I will,” Theo laughed. “I promise, I will.”

Her penmanship with a quill was improving, so with any luck James wouldn’t be obligated to scribe whatever letters she had to send.

The goodbyes were lengthy, but the moment they were out of the door and well out of earshot, Theo was hooting a laugh and throwing her arms about her husband in celebration – not content to let him downplay his success here. Only after that did the tiredness that had been culminating over the course of their time here really hit, and she returned to the sofa and sank down onto it with a sigh.

“You made an enthusiastic friend in Lady Montague. For life, I should think,” James said as he followed her in.

“Careful, James, you’re brushing against condescension – all that’s missing is a pat on the head and a good girl.”

Although that last part might be worth revisiting at a later date. He chuckled, walking to the bar cart and pouring them each a drink before he sat down on the couch beside her, handing her the crystal tumbler of whiskey.

“I know these things are tiring for you, but if it’s any consolation you handled it all marvellously.”

Theo made a humming sound, taking a sip and sighing. He was right – they were exhausting. Not even just because of the cultural differences, which one wouldn’t expect to exist between two such small neighbouring islands, but because of her origins, too.

“It wasn’t so bad as it was when I first arrived,” she admitted. “I…have more stable footing now, than I did back then. Don’t need to be paranoid that if I say my favourite colour is blue, it’ll be a secret code for I worship the devil every Tuesday night in these times.”

“No, that would be red,” he said drily.

“Duly noted.”

Back when she first arrived, it had been toughest. Having to constantly self-edit and really think over what she said before she said it, thinking of how she could skew an anecdote to fit the time – or if she could at all – by which point, the conversation had often moved on and she was left standing quietly like a lawn ornament to the side. With James, it had always been surprisingly easy. Even before he knew, when they were just talking, and he wasn’t trying to finagle details of her past out of her. And now she didn’t have to worry about it with him at all. A safe haven in human form.

It was Theo’s own humble opinion that she was at her best when she could speak her mind and crack her stupid jokes and, well, breathe. That hadn’t often been possible in Port Royal. Because they were of this time, and because they seldom shared her sense of humour – and going into this, she’d expected it to be more of the same. Amplified, perhaps, because this was London, where all of them had hailed from.

But either island life had made those there less friendly towards newcomers, or the old lot just really resented her for what she’d found with James. Then again, maybe arriving as a castaway, living in the jungle for a bit, and then running off with a pirate…multiple times…had something to do with it, too. Who knew?

In any case, she’d lucked out here – and she was relieved, but exhausted still. And more than a little sheepish.

“I’m sorry.”

“For worshipping the devil?”

He had not sensed her change in tone, thinking she was still joking. There was a precedent for that, wasn’t there? Theo was content to let it rest there, unsure if it was really a conversation she wanted to have anyway. But then he turned his head and regarded her fully, and the silence became a little less comfortable than it usually was between them.

“Sorry for what?” he asked, and then when she did not respond, asked again. “Theodora?”

“It…doesn’t come naturally to me. Not here.”

“What doesn’t?”

“The social side of it. Here.”

“She says as we sit here, drinking to her success.”

“We’re drinking to our success, don’t be daft.”

“I’m drinking to yours. Now tell me what you meant. Was someone unkind tonight?”

“Not at all. But…”

Well, they were having the conversation now. What good would it be to sit and make him pull teeth and figure out what was bothering her via a series of yes-or-no questions?

“…this is what wives are supposed to do, isn’t it? Here, I mean. Take joy in organising dinner parties and playing hostess and filling every spare hour of every day with luncheons and dinner parties and balls? Representing the team in the sophisticated social circles – the ones not inhabited by pirates and sex workers, anyway. It’s not exactly…”

A marriage to a fine woman. But she wouldn’t use those words – because they weren’t meant for her ears, because it would appear the matter of Elizabeth still weighed upon her (which it genuinely did not), and because it didn’t exactly convey how she felt. That made it sound like she doubted his feelings for her, or like she had no self-worth…which had never been one of her problems. God bless her dad and how he’d raised her.

“I don’t fulfil the traditional job requirements,” she finished lamely.

Then, though, she saw how he looked almost outraged by her words and winced.

“I’m not saying I don’t think you’re happy. Only that it would be understandable if you were…oh, I don’t know. Frustrated, now and then, at having a wife who you always need to explain to people.”

In all of their time together, they hadn’t ever really had a chance at living in a normal manner up until now. There’d always been some sort of grander game at play – some new adventure-slash-mortal peril tugging at their tailcoats. The bits in-between that kinda sorta resembled normality had been breathers. Blips between storms – between maelstroms.

James smiled a little as he bowed his head, and Theo wasn’t sure how to even begin taking the gesture. Had she really sounded that ridiculous? God, she shouldn’t have opened her mouth at all. But when he raised his head again and looked to her, the smile slipped away, and she knew her worry had shown on her face.

Sighing, he bent forward to set his glass down on the floor, and then took her free hand in both of his.

"Do you think I have none of the same fears? Three centuries of progress lies between here and where you hailed from. Between myself and then. And you have given up much for me…have sacrificed much for me..." as he spoke, he ran his thumb over the knuckles of her gloved hand. “I believe that you are happy just as you know that I am. But, sometimes, I do fear that one day you may grow to question whether it was all worth it. For you have sacrificed plenty, and I have gained much. I have gained everything.”

“Everything you’ve gained, I have too,” she insisted. “I never regret the choice I’ve made. Not even in passing.”

“And nor do I. I do not wish for a wife, Theodora. I want you. As you are. However you are. However you will be. And as for needing to explain you to people – if they do not possess good taste, that is their own affair. I enjoy being among the lucky collective who do.”

Theo felt herself flush, but he was not finished. He slipped one hand away from hers and brought it instead to cup the side of her face, thumb running across her cheek just as it had with her knuckles, urging her towards him so that he could kiss her – a kiss that was so slow and filled with such adoration that she was sure she wouldn’t be able to string another sentence together for at least an hour.

He pulled back, but kept her close, pressing his brow against hers.

“And I confess, if you suffered a head injury and began to take joy in little other than place settings and the town gossip, I should still love you but I would mourn it,” he teased. “You take little joy in these sorts of gatherings? Good. Nor do I. So I know I will never need to suffer through them unless entirely necessary – and when those times do come, I’m afforded the opportunity to witness you, to use your own wording, charm the pants off of those necessary. Now tell me, what facet of any of this is supposed to disappoint me?”

“What if I tell you I really am a witch?” she teased, pressing another kiss to his lips as if to prove her mood had lightened.

“I shall carry your broomstick for you with great pride,” he promised.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

#esta's flufftober '23 fills #flufftober2023 #flufftober 2023 #flufftober #james norrington x oc #james norrington/oc #potcfic #pirates of the caribbean fanfic #pirates of the caribbean fanfiction #pirates of the caribbean fic #james norrington fanfic #james norrington fanfiction

[feyre-darling92]

I promise

Azriel x reader

Hope you’re all alright! It’s been a while since I last wrote for Azriel so I decided to write again. Hope you like it.

T/W: Angst, sad? If you can’t tell by now I can’t put normal warnings, brief mentions of dead bodies, blood, bad writing.

Word Count: 604

Taglist: @a-court-of-reading-and-writing ,  @michelle-l-a-k  ,  @hauntedwitch04

“It’s my fault” you muttered, looking around you. It was your fault.

It was your fault that these people were dead. It was your fault that you didn’t realize it was a trap. It was your fault you didn’t defend them as you should have.

“Y/N” Rhys placed a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, look at me” he ordered, not as your high lord, but as your friend, your brother.

But you couldn’t take your eyes off the view in front of you. The lifeless bodies that were lying on the ground, the blood painting the ground.

Your eyes finally met his, “It’s not your fault”

But it was.

“I-I tried my best-” your weak voice sounded after many hours of remaining silent.

“We know. They know too. But please, let us help you” Feyre said softly.

The truth is, you didn’t know how many hours had you sat silent, refusing to leave, no matter how much they tried to convince you to do otherwise.

It just felt wrong.

But after understanding that there was nothing you could do now, you followed them back to the house of wind.

The moment you stepped inside you felt like you were suffocating, so you did the first thing that came into your mind. You ran to your room and locked the door, all the emotions hitting at once.

Azriel, who was watching you all the time, slowly followed you to your room. He understood. He understood the guilt, the disappointment, the sadness, everything. He knew better than anyone.

As he approached your room he could hear you crying, every sob was a knife to his heart. And when he finally reached you, he stood in front of your door unsure of what to do next.

Look at him, the spymaster, a brave warrior that everyone feared was standing in front of the door of the woman he loved unable to decide his next actions.

He knocked on your door, “Y/N, it’s me” was all he could say.

“Please, go away, Azriel” you leaned your head against the door, sitting uncomfortably on the floor. You hated these words that came out of your mouth but you just couldn’t face him.

At the sound of your response, Azriel sat down, his back against the wall, and rested his head on the door, exactly where yours was.

“I’m here. I know that’s not enough, but it’s all I got,” he whispered loud enough for you to hear.

Right now, this was all you needed to hear. You closed your eyes, finding peace knowing that he was on the other side. He was there. With you. You both sat like that, each other's presence comforting you for about an hour when he spoke again.

“I am going to open the door, ok?” he waited for your response which never came, and gently opened it.

At the sight of you, curled up against the wall, tears and blood staining your beautiful face his heart ached. You didn’t deserve this.

“Come here, sweetheart” he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you from the floor and guiding you to your bed. You hugged him tightly, not wanting to let him go. And neither he did.

“Promise me that you’ll stay” you whispered.

“I promise”

“And promise me that you will never leave, no matter what”

“I won’t. I promise, I won’t”

His promise took away most of your pain, your heart beating again. For him.

His promise comforted you, relief and tiredness both taking over you. And when you fell asleep, no nightmares came. Because you were with him. And he had promised.

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel x you #acotar x reader #imagine acotar #feyre-darling92 #feyre darling92

[janetbrown711]

Well, Well, Look Who's Inside Again

MK finds out Tang had "sleepover" with Pigsy after New Years, and invites him to play a game or two.

tw for references to child/domestic abuse (both emotional and physical), as well as homophobia

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 10 Part 10.5 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Ao3 Link

Despite New Years being an incredibly long night for MK and Mei alike, kids were kids and they still rose with the sun over Megapolis and far before Pigsy did, which was usual for holidays and weekends.

Since it was holiday break, that meant MK and Mei had a few more hours than usual before they had to go to the restaurant to help out, which was also why despite any pre-existing tiredness, they embraced the early daylight.

Well– MK did anyways, Mei was always a heavier sleeper. He didn’t mind though, emerging from his room into the delicate sanctity of the empty living room without much trouble. He was silent as ever, closing his door and barely making a sound as he snuck himself a banana which he ate in record time before strategically placing it under paper plates in the trash so nobody’d find it.

After that he went over to the couch and proceeded to get a head start on building the pillow fort for the game he and Mei liked to play, draping blankets over couch cushions and lamps alike until there were about three separate areas. Now all MK really had to do was wait for his bestest friend.

However, strangely enough, it wasn't Mei's door that opened first, but Pigsy's and–

"Mr. Tang? What're you doing here?" MK tilted his head, noticing the man was in one of Pigsy’s robes and one of his shirts too– and his pajamas pants.

The poor guy nearly tripped over himself before his eyes went to MK in his fort.

"H-h-hi, MK! Fancy seeing you here!" Tang smiled, clutching a hand over his heart.

"I live here," MK blinked.

"That you do," the man gave a laugh even MK could tell was forced. "See, I was just– um– I was going to use the–"

MK stared at him, noticing his hair was disheveled, his glasses were crooked, and he was apparently also borrowing Pigsy's slippers.

"Is Pigsy awake?" MK decided to ask.

"Ah– no," Tang said apologetically.

"Then why are you here?" He tilted his head again.

“Well– umm–” Tang looked around the apartment, clearly looking for a way out of what he must be thinking as an awkward conversation– though MK couldn’t fathom why he’d think that.

“Did you have a sleepover?” MK asked further.

This made Tang even more red in the face, before he cleared his throat and nodded. “Y-yes– a sleepover– I wasn’t in any condition to really go home last night and so Pigsy helped me out– in a way,” Tang muttered that last bit, but MK shrugged it off, satisfied he got his answer.

“Sooo… um… W-what’re you playing?” Tang decided to ask since MK didn’t say anything else.

“Oh, I’m not playing yet– waiting for Mei,” MK briefly explained, adjusting some pillows and a stack of books.

“Ahhh, I see,” Tang smiled and looked around. “Quite the elaborate set up you got here; I must say, I’m impressed.”

MK perked up. “You really think so?”

“Of course!” The scholar laughed. “It takes an impressive eye to see all of Pigsy’s things and be able to transform it into all of this. You’ve got quite the creative mind, MK.”

“Oh, you know, it’s just making a mess– you should see how quickly I can put it all away, Mei says that’s the real impressive part,” He laughed to himself as he adjusted a blanket.

“Really?” Tang sat on the ground under one of the forts.

MK nodded proudly. “I’m a master at cleaning, according to Piggy n’ Mei.”

The scholar’s face twitched ever so slightly, which MK noticed too, but that meant anything then Tang didn’t say.

“Well, that’s very impressive, MK,” Tang said instead, so MK was probably just seeing things. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time...

“So… what’s the game?” The scholar asked.

“It changes a lot, but most of the time it’s about hiding from the sleeping dragon,” MK explained. “We need the forts because if the dragon wakes up and they hear you, they burst in and eat you.”

“Wow, that’s a mean dragon,” Tang laughed a little strangely. “Is it always Mei who’s the dragon and you’re the–... victim?”

MK shook his head. “Me n’ Mei take turns.”

“Right, right,” Tang nodded, scratching his neck– which MK just realized he hadn’t really seen before.

“Mr. Tang, why do you always wear a scarf?” MK asked with zero hesitation.

Tang’s face turned dark red. “I– oh wow– I totally forgot I’m not wearing it right now,” He laughed nervously, his hand covering the back right side of it.

“Yeah, why aren’t you in your clothes?” MK was still confused about that.

“Ah– they got all soaked in the weather last night, it’s nothing really– Pigsy was just so generous– anyways–” Tang coughed. “I wear my scarf because I… like it. Makes me feel safe.”

“I don’t like wearing scarves, they make me feel all… chokey,” MK shuddered.

“To each their own,” Tang said without any judgment, which felt… strange coming from an adult.

“I hate the neckties they make us wear at school,” MK added, fiddling with a book pile. “They’re really annoying.”

Tang laughed. “I’ve never understood school uniforms, I always hated them as a kid.”

“The shirts are so itchy,” MK agreed.

“And the teachers? Yikes,” Tang ran fingers through his hair.

“I hate Headmaster Jianxi, he makes Pigsy feel bad,” MK crossed his arms. “And Miss Yang is mean too.”

Mr. Tang thought for a second. “Do you ever wish you could switch schools, MK?”

“No, I need Mei,” MK quickly dismissed the idea.

“Well, what if she transferred with you?” The man then suggested, and MK had to think about that.

“I… No. Teachers suck everywhere,” he ultimately decided– and that wasn’t mentioning how Mei knew the place and seemed to be okay with it and even liked parts of it. Plus, it was what her parents wanted for her and MK understood that her parents were nice.

Mr. Tang didn’t seem happy about that though, giving a long sigh. “It won’t be like this forever, you know that, right?”

MK furrowed his brows, unsure of what he was implying.

The man laughed a little awkwardly. “I– what I mean is– um–...” he looked away, fiddling with the collar of the gigantic robe. “Not all teachers are terrible, and you’ll probably find one you like in the future. You’re only seven, your life isn’t over.”

“Oh– uh… okay,” MK slowly nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“Yes! And– and you shouldn’t force yourself to be miserable for the sake of others, so if you really, really, really don’t like that school–”

“I like the school, Mr. Tang. The play yard is cool,” MK lied, uncomfortable with all the concern.

“Right… right, of course, I’m not trying to force you to do anything, of course, I just–... you know what, I think I should go back to Pigsy,” Tang sighed and rubbed his face before getting up, but MK grabbed his (or technically Pigsy’s) pajama pants.

“I don’t want you to go– you left early last night too,” MK pleaded, surprised to see how surprised Tang looked.

“You… missed me?” Tang fiddled with the robe collar again.

“Yeah! Nainai and Mr. Zhu are… they aren’t you and Piggy,” MK still didn’t know how he felt about his grand”guardians”.

“Oh, of course,” Tang sat back on the ground in front of the boy. “Last night wasn’t too hard, was it?”

MK looked away.

Mr. Zhu was weird, and started smoking the second Pigsy was out of sight with Tang. It had sparked an argument between him and Nainai, which almost made MK cry, but Mei held his hand, which was nice. When the fireworks started going off, Nainai’s yelling only got angrier as she blamed Mr. Zhu for there not being any seats left, and Mr. Zhu then called her something MK’s ‘baba’ had called his ‘mama’ often, which had brought back a lot of bad memories and made him feel worse.

After a bit of squabbling, Nainai took Mei and MK’s hands and dragged them away from Mr. Zhu to a little spot where they could all sit. She then acted like nothing had happened at all and even started to braid Mei’s hair. She started going on and on about how she always wanted a granddaughter and how Mei was so pretty and smart and talented and reminded her of herself. After a bit, Mr. Zhu came back and just sat next to MK, and Nainai didn’t acknowledge him at all, just going on and on about how she was when she was a girl and how her mother was a saint and all these things. Meanwhile MK could just feel the cigarette smoke pushing down his neck. He tried looking to Mei for comfort, but Nainai had kept her head forward so she could braid easily, so MK was… kinda alone.

When the fireworks ended, MK was exhausted and asked to go back, to which Nainai had said the night was hardly over and there were so many things she could still buy for them, and yadda yadda yadda. Meanwhile, Mr. Zhu laughed at MK and said he reminded him of ‘your punk guardian’ when he was a kid, and it just made him feel weird and confused and sad. He almost cried, but Mr. Zhu had told him ‘it was a joke’ and to ‘not take it so soft’ and that ‘at least he wasn’t a ‘yutao’ like Pigsy was’, which just sounded even more mean.

When Nainai heard that, she scolded Mr. Zhu more and told MK not to cry because Mr. Zhu was "just like that" and he was also "just trying to get a reaction out of you". She then went and bought MK and Mei more things before they all went back to Pigsy’s place, and she insisted on tucking him in even though he didn’t want to and she kissed his forehead and tried removing his bandana. She didn’t like it when he fought on it, but muttered something under her breath eventually and let it be until she told him goodnight and finally– finally left.

MK hadn’t had the energy to go and spend the night with Mei.

“No, it was good,” MK lied again. “I just missed you. Plus, you seemed scared when you left.”

“O-oh… I… yeah, I guess I was,” Tang sighed. “I wish I could tell you why, but… I don’t know. Sometimes loud noises just overwhelm me and I get scared and jumpy. I know it isn’t normal, but I also don’t know how to stop it.”

“Oh…” MK slowly nodded. “That’s okay. I sometimes hear buzzes my teachers n’ parents say aren’t real.”

Tang smiled warmly. “Thanks, MK.”

MK gave a cheesy grin and thumbs up that made Tang laugh.

Good. It was working.

“So… um… do you want to play with me n’ Mei?” MK offered.

“O-oh! I– I’m not too old, am I?” He laughed nervously.

“No one’s too old, Mr. Tang,” MK laughed too.

“Well then… I guess I could use the de-stressor,” Tang joked mostly to himself, but MK just rolled with it.

“Okay! Um… we could set up another house, but I don’t think Pigsy has enough couches,” he looked around to confirm his suspicions.

“Wouldn’t it heighten the challenge if we keep the same amount? That way it’s more likely one of the two of us will lose?” Tang asked.

“Oh! Ummmmmm… yeah, it would,” MK ultimately agreed, despite the fact he hated losing. Then again, maybe Tang was right and it’d be more fun– he’d just have to give it a shot, right? It was what he wanted anyways.

As if right on cue, Mei’s door opened and she tiredly stumbled her way over, her hair still in multiple little braids from the night before.

“Good morning, Mei,” Tang chuckled.

“Mr. Tang? What’re you doing here?” Mei rubbed her eyes.

“He and Piggy had a sleepover so he’s gonna join us,” MK grinned at his friend, who looked at Tang.

“Sleepover?” She asked him, and the scholar's face turned deep red.

“W-well– it was just so late and I was exhausted– it was more of a ‘he nursed me back to help’ type situation– really, it wasn’t like it was all that personal really, it was just– not that I don’t like Pigsy or appreciate his help–! We’re really good friends, it’s just– you know– it was– well it was very nice and all, I’m not trying to sound ungrateful– but I just– you know– it was–”

“Okay,” Mei shrugged, and Tang sighed a huge breath of relief.

“So, uh… is it okay if he plays with us?” MK asked her.

Mei looked at him and thought long and hard (or at least pretended to by tapping her chin and tilting her head back and forth). “Mmmmmmm, he does owe us for last night…”

The scholar blushed. “R-right, I’m–”

“Silence, I am thinking,” Mei stuck a finger in Tang’s face, which made MK giggle.

For further drama, Mei circled around the scholar, who looked completely lost for what he was supposed to do. He just kept looking at MK who gave him two thumbs up that the man returned, which MK found funny.

After a bit of this though, Mei came to her verdict.

“He can play. It’ll be fun to kill him,” She grinned.

“Aha… just like old times,” Tang pulled a bit on his borrowed t-shirt’s collar. MK tilted his head, which made the man quickly shake it off. “Nevermind– let's get playing, no?”

“Okay! I’ll be first!” Mei grinned mischievously and jumped over the couch so she could get behind the forts. “I’m going to sleep! Such a sleepy little dragon am I,” Mei giggled as she curled into a ball and began to “snore” at a volume that could rival Pigsy.

“Okay, so what do we do now?” Tang whispered to MK.

“Well, we gotta try and not be too loud, and whenever Mei stops snoring we can’t make a sound or else she'll wake up,” MK explained, already crawling over to a different fort than he started.

“Ah, okay I see,” Tang started moving around too when Mei went silent and the both of them froze and looked at each other.

Mei went back to snoring.

“So, how many times can she, you know, just go back to sleep?” Tang asked as he and MK again switched their forts.

“One time she actually fell asleep, but that was kinda funny,” MK giggled until Mei stopped snoring again.

She continued.

“So she can do this all day? No limits?” Tang puzzled.

“It’s why we’ve never asked Piggy to play; he snores great, but I’m pretty sure he’d sleep too,” MK laughed and this time when Mei stopped snoring he didn’t stop in time.

“RAH! I’m gonna get you!” Mei cackled dramatically, and Tang and MK scrambled to different forts before Mei snuck behind the one Tang was in and tackled him.

“Got you, Mr. Tang! Omnomnomnomnom,” Mei started “eating” his arm and the man laughed while blankets and pillows fell everywhere, though MK was quick to try and fix it for them.

“Okay, so that means it’s now your turn, Mr. Tang,” MK informed, realigning some books.

“Sure, if you can get this little dragon off of me,” Tang tried shaking his arm out with a laugh as Mei kept ‘biting’.

“Sorry MK, you’re no match for this hungry gal,” She flashed him a cheeky grin and continued eating his arm.

“Meiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” MK huffed and the girl stopped and rolled her eyes.

“Alright, alright, I hears ya,” She got off of Tang and helped MK rebuild the fort, while Tang glanced at the boy.

“MK, that was a little mean don’t you think?” he whispered.

MK froze.

“I-I didn’t mean to– I-I–”

“Woah there– I was just– maybe let Mei do what she wants for a little bit longer, alright? She’s just having fun,” Tang placed a hand on MK’s shoulder, which he didn’t like.

“Okay, Mr. Tang,” He straightened himself out a bit.

Tang smiled a little sadly (which MK double didn’t like) and finished the fort before going behind as Mei had and curling into a ball.

“There’s no way ol’ Tang’s gonna win against us, right MK? We’re champs at this,” Mei grinned with pride as she went from one fort to the other.

“Y-yeah! We’re– we’re good at this,” MK couldn’t help but feel shaken for some reason and he hated it.

Mei looked like she was going to say something, but Tang stopped snoring and they had to freeze. That didn’t stop her from looking at him, though MK certainly didn’t look at her.

…Jeez, how long was Tang going to not snore???

He could see Mei trying to mouth his name out of the corner of his eye but properly ignored it.

Tang finally continued his snoring.

“Dude, what the heck?” Mei looked at him.

“I’m trying to win, Mei, duhhh,” MK lied with a laugh.

“Oohhhh, I see how it is,” Mei bought it with a smirk. “Smart.”

“That’s why they call me ‘smartie kid’,” MK grinned.

“Who? Miss Jiayi?” Mei laughed. “She doesn't count.”

“I– other people call me smart!” MK protested, feeling his face get hot.

Tang stopped snoring, so MK just tried to hide his face and Mei covered her mouth to stop her laughing.

He continued.

“You almost got me caught!” Mei accused.

“What?! How is your stupid joke my fault?” MK was genuinely confused.

Mei blew a raspberry and laughed while continuing her regular switching pattern while MK just felt very, very lost and… and bad too.

He tried shaking it off for the game's sake and continued crawling.

“Your dorky face got all red– it’s funny,” Mei informed with a giggle, but MK’s face just got hotter.

“I-I’m just– trying to win, haha,” MK lied yet again, barely even moving.

“Ahhh I see, the statue strategy,” Mei squinted as she continued to move.

“Yes–! It’s– um– a new thing I’m coming up with, so… uh… yeah,” MK swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I see, you sneaky li’l devil,” Mei grinned.

“Mei, can you n–”

Tang stopped snoring.

MK sighed in annoyance– before realizing that was the exact opposite of what he was meant to do, and the two of them rushed their ways to different forts and Tang ended up tackling an empty one, which MK quickly went to fix.

“See, MK? What’d I tell you? Mr. Tang is no match for us,” Mei crossed her arms smugly.

“Yep yep,” MK forced a weak agreement before picking up the books.

“Drat, it looks like I’ll just have to get you next time,” Tang grinned mischievously at Mei.

“If you even can, oldie,” Mei stuck her tongue out.

Tang gave a fake offended gasp. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I have plenty of youthful years left.”

Mei laughed more. “You’re old~”

“What?! What makes me old, hm?” Tang crossed his arms while MK rolled his eyes and struggled rebuilding.

“You got old man glasses,” Mei pointed out. “And you go to old man schools and study old man things. I bet you even knew that Monkey King guy personally.”

“Woah there, I’m not that old,” Tang laughed.

“Whatever, oldie,” Mei blew a raspberry just as MK was able to finish rebuilding.

“Um, the fort’s rebuilt so–”

“MK…” Mr. Tang glanced at him with this– this look that made MK shrink back.

“Go back to your old person cave, oldie; you’ll need your rest to catch a ‘youngster’ like me,” Mei smirked.

“Oh, I’m not letting you go that easy this time, so you better watch your back,” Tang stood and did one of those ‘I’m watching you’ signals, which Mei returned until Tang was back behind the forts and ‘snoring’ again.

This time, Mei didn’t even try talking to MK, too busy trying to sneak peeks at Mr. Tang and giggling to herself. She didn’t manage to correct in time when he suddenly stopped and this time, he successfully guessed the fort Mei was hiding in and crashed it all down with a big roar.

“Who’s the ‘oldie’ now, huh Mei? Huh?” He grinned wide as he began to tickle Mei who kicked and squealed happily while MK just… watched.

Tang and Mei were destroying the other forts left and right, and MK wanted to fix them, but there really wasn’t a point. They clearly didn’t really want to play– or at least with him.

They were fine on their own. They didn’t need a “nag” like him.

And so quickly and quietly, MK walked out of the living space and made his way to his room where he promptly locked the door before laying on his bed in the dark.

It was just a joke. It was all just “fun” . Why was MK always ruining these things? He didn’t mean to. He never meant to ruin or hurt anyone or anything. He just… did. It was like he was a “no fun” magnet– maybe that’s why Mei was his only friend. No, scratch that– that was why Mei was his only friend.

Jokes jokes jokes jokes jokes– “Lighten up, Xiaotian, it’s just a joke”. “What kind of kid can’t take a joke?” “She’s just having fun”.

Ugh…

…A part of him wondered how long it would take Tang and Mei to notice he was gone.

Another part of him hoped it wouldn’t be for a long, long, long time.

Eventually he heard steps running to his door before there was knocking, and he could hear Mei panting.

“MK– MK, we’re setting it up again, c’mon!” Mei urged him, but MK knew she didn’t really want that– she was having more fun with Mr. Tang.

A secret, third part of MK wished he hadn’t invited Mr. Tang to play at all.

“MK?” Mei knocked again. “MK, you there?”

MK didn’t respond, picking up his beloved monkey Luanshi and hugging them tight as he just stared up at the ceiling in the dark.

He deserved to feel bad about this. He was being mean. And a “bummer”.

“MK..?”

He heard his door’s handle shake, which instinctively made him cling to Luanshi tighter– but it stopped and he could hear Mei going back to the living area to play with Tang again.

Good.

…

MK was disappointed in himself. He was supposed to be acting better for Mr. Pigsy’s sake. He remembered clear as day what Mr. Tao said and how he needed to be good and human, not selfish and mean, and– it didn’t feel right to call those emotions demonic since Pigsy wasn’t any of those, but– well–

Ugh– why did things always have to be so confusing? He really thought being good would be a lot easier. And not his “parents” version of good– actually good.

There was another knock at his door, this one being much softer than the previous had been, which meant it had to be Mr. Tang’s.

“MK..?” The man in question spoke up. “Are you alright?”

MK didn’t feel like answering that, it would just ruin their fun.

“MK, if this is about what I said earlier I’m–... I’m sorry, I was out of line, I’m not your parent– I just– I don’t know why I said that…”

MK glanced at the door over his shoulder but remained curled on his bed.

He heard Tang sigh and sit on the ground with his back against the door. “Pigsy’s a lot better at this than me– which is good because this– this really isn’t my place. I’m so sorry, MK, I shouldn’t– I– I’m just… I’m sorry.”

MK bit his cheek. “Pigsy’s not… my dad either.”

He felt horrible for saying it, but it was what Pigsy believed…

“Oh…” Mr. Tang said quietly.

MK traced over Luanshi’s stitches again and again.

“That–... MK, do… Do you know there are people who love you?”

“Y-yeah, I have Mei,” He said, only half-believing it.

“But me and Pigsy– we love you too… do you know that?”

MK blinked. “I-I, um…”

“MK… I’m… I’m going to ask a personal question, is that okay?”

No. Not really.

“Y-yeah…”

“Did your… ‘parents’... love you?”

Ah, beans.

“I-I um– y-yeah, I think so,” MK half-guessed, half-lied. “Mama would say it sometimes.”

“Would she only say it when she was… intoxicated?”

MK sat up and looked at the door, startled he could guess such a thing.

He heard the man sigh again. “My parents weren’t good either, MK. They didn’t like me or who I was and sometimes they’d… hurt me over it.”

MK hugged Luanshi tighter.

“They’d also make me feel like it was my fault– but it wasn’t. I was just being who I was and they were two full grown adults who just couldn’t handle that. It’s so… it’s just so stupid, looking back,” The man laughed weakly through the door.

MK looked at the door again and slowly but surely crept off his bed and onto the ground. “Did… your parents call you names?”

“A lot… most of which I wouldn’t even dream of sharing with you.”

“My parents called me stupid. And a brat. And a thief, and a bastard, and sneaky, a-and a devil, a-and a demon, a-and–... and other things…”

“I’m sorry, MK. That wasn’t right of them. You’re a great kid,” the man assured.

‘I’m sorry.’

Mr. Tang liked saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot– it was weird for MK. Adults weren’t supposed to apologize like he did.

MK crept a little closer. “Your parents hit you too?”

“Sometimes my father would, if I failed him.”

“My mama would hit me cuz of her moods n’ drinking– n’ baba would hurt me if I made mama mad.”

“I’m sorry, MK.”

“S’okay.”

“It doesn’t have to be ‘okay’, MK… Things can just suck sometimes.”

MK frowned, finally crawling to the door where he sat with his back turned. “You… you won’t tell Pigsy, will you?”

Tang made a noise at that, something between a wince and a sigh. “He really should know–”

“No-! I’m– I’m supposed to be good for him a-and it’s not even school yet– I can’t let him know I failed now– I-I promised!” MK blurted out.

“Woah, woah, woah– what’s this about a promise?” he heard Tang sit up a little.

MK cursed his stupid brain.

“I– um–”

“MK, Pigsy would love you no matter what– he does love you no matter what,” Tang emphasized. “You don’t have to be anything for him. You can just be–”

“A brat? A-a stupid, selfish brat who ruins everyone else’s games?” MK repeated bitterly, setting Luanshi on his knees and messing with their arms so it looked like they were hitting MK’s head.

“You aren’t a–” Tang stopped himself. “MK, you slipped up, but you are not your mistakes.”

MK huffed.

“MK, I’m not mad at you, and I don’t hate you and neither does Mei– we love you, MK,” the man pleaded a bit and MK just lowered his head.

Mr. Tang didn’t talk for a while, though MK could hear his foot tapping anxiously.

MK was fine with that though, he liked being alone and in the dark.

“MK, I–... I meant what I said earlier; it won’t be like this forever. One day you’ll forget all about your mean parent’s cruelty and you’ll just know the love Pigsy has for you.”

“How do you–...” MK hesitated.

“‘How do I’ what..?”

MK closed his eyes. “How… do you know Pigsy… loves… me..?”

“MK, he adores you and Mei so much– why, he upended his whole entire lifestyle to make room for you two. That’s… not something someone does just because they’re nice and they could,” Tang laughed a little.

MK thought about that. “But… if he… does, then why doesn’t he ever– you know… say it?”

Mr. Tang went quiet for a moment. “I don’t think it’s easy for him. I think… I think he’s been hurt before and he doesn’t like opening himself up because of that– but he does love you, trust me, he does.”

MK thought about that too. “So he… he doesn’t think I’m a brat? Or a thief?”

“No, MK– but if he ever calls you that, I promise he doesn’t mean it. Like– you know he calls me a ‘freeloader’, right? Well, he doesn’t mean it. He’d never kick me out of his restaurant and I’m pretty sure if I ever paid for my noodles, it’d kill him,” the man laughed a little. “When he says those things, he often means the opposite– but if it makes you feel bad, you should tell him, the last thing he wants is to hurt you, MK.”

MK slowly nodded. “Y-yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

He heard Tang hum with relief. “I’m glad I could at least kinda get through to you, MK. You’re a good kid, MK– You’re a really, really good kid.”

The boy rolled his eyes a little at the sappiness. “Thanks, Mr. Tang.”

“No problem, MK… Now, do you want to finish playing our game or do you want to do something else?” He asked softly.

MK looked at Luanshi as his stomach growled. “Is Pigsy awake yet? M’kinda hungry.”

“I can check for you if you’d like,” Tang offered, standing up.

“Yeah, that’d be nice, Mr. Tang,” MK slowly stood too and looked up briefly. “A-and… thank you.”

Mr. Tang chuckled. “It’s no problem, MK. You two are delightful to be around.”

MK laughed a little as he slowly heard Tang walk away.

Well… all things considered, it certainly wasn’t his worst morning ever. It was fun for a little bit there, and… and Tang was cool. He liked knowing Tang, and he also liked knowing what he knew. He was cool.

He… wasn’t sure if he believed he or Pigsy really loved him yet, though. Heck, he barely even knew what love was, except that it was like what he and Mei had as long time friends. He knew that parents were supposed to love their kids, but his parents hadn’t and Pigsy and Tang weren’t his parents, so it left a lot of question marks in the air…

Oh well, MK had time to figure that out in the future. For now he needed to apologize to Mei for running off and being weird, but he wasn’t worried about that; Mei was pretty cool too. And besides, the sooner he apologized the sooner he could start feeling better, and then he could just focus on thinking about how good breakfast was going to be.

MK was going to be fine.

#lmk #lego monkie kid #mk lmk #tang lmk #mei lmk #my fics #dadsy of two au #tang is so girlfailure coded i love him #mk is a sweetie too #smh #tw child abuse

[iwanncry]

I Just Want To Go Home ( Madness Combat x Child! Reader) P.t 2

(( AGAIN THIS IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC, I WILL NEVER EVER INCLUDE P3D0 SHIT IN HERE))

((the reader is gender-neutral so all folks can enjoy!))

((TW: madness combat and abandonment))

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You wake up somewhere you don't exactly recognize, you feel weak and still very tired.

Rubbing your eyes, you notice you're not in the alleyway, you must've passed out due to fear.

"Wait..where even am I..??"

You Panic but not loud enough to draw attention to yourself. In the middle of freaking out, a giant man comes around the corner. and needless to say, you froze just upon seeing him.

" Ah, goodie you're awake!" he said, sounding way friendlier than you expected. It caught you off guard..just a bit.

"w-who...what..-" before you could ask the man who or what he is, the Giant interrupts you and kneels down to get a good look at you and your bandages

" Little one, you can call me Skinner, and don't you worry you're in great hands!"

you get to take in Skinner's details since the lighting wasn't great and his height.

you mentally shudder and you decide it's best not to piss him off.

after Skinner gave you a thumbs up he left the room, you could hear him talking to someone but you try to listen and at least try to identify the voice the mammoth is talking to but you give up and lay back down.

" how long am I going to be here for..? "

you try to dig into your memories trying to find out how you even got separated from both your parents in the first place, but strangely you can't.

you quickly feel yourself getting overwhelmed, the last thing you remember before getting separated from them was your mother driving the car she had managed to steal, and both of your parents were talking about something to do with you, but you were too tired to eavesdrop, sleep overtook you and you saw nothing but darkness. the next thing you know, you opened your eyes they were gone and you were laying on the side of the road...

wait...

did they throw you on the side of the road and drive off?!

you couldn't belive it, did they leave you out there to die?

You covered your mouth as soon as you felt tears sting your eyes and sobbed your hands. trying your best not o be too loud, you just couldn't help it, it hurt so bad.

multiple footsteps approach the area you currently laying in, you quickly wipe the tears from your eyes. you try your best to mask your pain behind some sort of poker face, hopefully, you can blame the red eyes for tiredness.

You see two men and one GIANT skinner come through the wide entrance.

"ah..your awake." a man with a mask said, he had a pretty deep and raspy voice. He also had a pretty cool mohawk, it had streaks of white hairs which confused you a bit because this man didn't look like he was over the age of 50 but it's probably due to stress.

His mask had red lenses and the mask had a weird angry look and you could see bandages wrapped over his mouth.

he wore a grey shirt with a black coat on top and black pants and shoes.

you looked at the other man that came with him you noticed the other one was Sanford due to his name on his dog tag hanging around his neck.

you look up at skinner and as soon as you made eye contact with him he quickly gave you a smile and a little wave. (well you..think it was a smile since his eyes were squinting)

the masked man revealed that his 'name' was 2Bdammned and asked you a bunch of personal questions regarding your race, ethnicity, date of birth, and where you were born.

all of these questions made you a tad bit uncomfy but you told him anyways.

after 2B left you to turn to Sanford and tilted your head at him, he seemed to get the memo and sat right next to you.

"hey chucklehead, how are you feeling?"

"awful, but I'm hanging on" you respond

Sanford nods and puts his hand on your head.

"Your strong y'know that, right? It's not every day I see a kid your age still kicking in Nevada."

he gets up from the seat and you take time to take in his words, it almost made you start crying again.

"take care kiddo, get some sleep we'll talk about your situation tomorrow"

you nod and get comfortable and drifted off to a nice slumber with a visible smile on your face.

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OH MY GOD NEW FATHER FIGURE???/hj

I'm so sorry this took so long to come out I was so busy with school and my mental health hasn't been the best, but I felt way too guilty to not post this and just leave it in drafts.

I do apologize if there are spelling errors '_'

I hope you enjoyed part 2 ^^

#madness combat #fanfic #madness combat x reader #platonic #child!reader #imagines #prompts #holy shit i love this

[bell4lan]

Mornings w/ Zhongli

Genre: Fluff

DNI: fujoshis, mlm/nblm fetishizers, non-mlm/nblm

Character(s): Zhongli x Male Reader

The sun peeked through the curtains as you woke up, rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. You looked over to your left and saw your beautiful boyfriend Zhongli sleeping peacefully. You took a second to admire how he looked. He was on his side facing you, hair untied and sprawled out onto the pillow. You, surprisingly, woke up before he did which was a rare occurrence considering he went to work before you did. So you decided to get up and make some breakfast for you two before he goes to work at the funeral parlor.

Getting the ingredients, you decided to make a traditional Liyue breakfast (youre going to have to imagine what it looks like cuz i cant remember if that actually exists). You start cooking, the smell of the ingredients entering the atmosphere. You couldn't wait to surprise him with the food since you knew how much he loved your cooking.

Zhongli woke up about 10 minutes after you started cooking. Rubbing his eyes, he noticed you weren't in bed which startled him because he didn't notice the smell of the food due to the fact he wasn't fully awake. Once he did notice it, he followed the smell and found you in the kitchen cooking happily. He smiled to himself and walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Good morning, (Name)." He said kissing your cheek softly. You were so caught up in cooking you didn't hear him walk in the room and got kind spooked at the sudden touch, but you quickly recovered and leaned into his warmth.

"Good morning, Zhongli. This was supposed to be a surprise but you woke up too early." You said trying to fake an angry tone, but you couldn't help but smile. He laughed softly at your attempt and apologized. He kept his arms wrapped around until you were finished and then helped you set the table.

"Thank you for the meal darling." Zhongli says as he starts to eat.

"You're welcome." You say happily as you ate your food. You looked over at Zhongli and saw a smile on his face as he ate. He always looked so happy with you, especially eating your food. Not that he liked your food more than you or anything, he just liked the fact that you made it for him. It being one of the tastiest things he's ever had was just a bonus.

After you both finish he decides to clean up since you made the food, which caused a very silly debate between you two. You both just ended up cleaning together in the end. Zhongli walked to the bedroom to get ready and you frowned. As he came back out you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Can't you stay with me today?" You ask with a pout on your lips.

Zhongli just chuckles and says, "I have work to do at the funeral parlor and you have to do commissions today."

"Ughh fine." You whine out faking a frown. He grabs your hand and kisses the back of it, immediately replacing your frown with a shy smile and a blush.

"How did I get such a clingy boyfriend, hm?" He asks playfully, still holding your hand.

"Hmm I wouldn't say clingy just verrry loving." You respond giving him a peck on the lips.

"I stand corrected." He laughs out, smiling at you. Did he really have to leave? You wanted to just stay home with him and do cheesy couple things all day.

"I have to go now (Name)." He says, smile dropping a bit.

You give him one more soft kiss on his lips before he leaves and yell out a goodbye as he walks away from your shared home. He simply looks back and waves. Even though he was pretty far away, you could tell he was smiling.

You both couldn't wait to get home.

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Sorry if Zhongli is ooc. I tried to make his personality as accurate as possible while making him yk...happy and lovey dovey. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! ^^

#genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #zhongli x male reader #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #zhongli fluff