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munsonsmixtapes · 10 days

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Make it Real

summary: your best friend Tyler finds your smutty books and offers to help make your fantasies a reality

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) choking, spanking

based on this request by @thespillingvoid

Tyler had somehow beat you to your apartment, which never happened on nights you worked. He knew you wouldn’t mind so he let himself in, knowing exactly where the key was hidden. The two of you were supposed to have a movie night and had gotten there first which never seemed to happen.

He had never been in your apartment alone, so he took the opportunity to snoop, knowing that you wouldn’t have cared if he went through your stuff.

He went to your desk in the kitchen and sat down at it, opening the middle drawer to see a small notebook along with a container filled with highlighters, pens, and markers. There were also some bookmarks and a stack of unopened packages of tabs.

Tyler grabbed the notebook and set it down on the desk before opening it to the first page to see a small photo of a book cover. Next to it were five stars and only three of them were colored in. So that was how you tracked what you read.

But he couldn’t help but notice a group of five peppers underneath the stars. Only two of them were colored in and he wondered what they signified. This seemed to be a whole new world he had entered since reading had never been his thing.

He made a beeline for your room, wanting to look at your bookshelf since you never seemed to let him any time he came over. What could you have been hiding? It couldn’t have been that bad, could it? After all, it was just a bunch of words on pages, right?

Tyler let his eyes scan over your many bookshelves, wanting to find the perfect one to read. They were all organized very neatly and he was not trying to ruin that in any way since he had helped you put them on once he had the shelves built.

He just wanted to know why you were hiding them from him even though he knew it was wrong.

His gaze fell on one that had a very intriguing title and he plucked it from the shelf and noticed that there were many tabs in it. He flipped to one of the pages and noticed that one of them had a highlighted paragraph. His eyes glanced over it and he felt his cheeks heat as he realized what he was reading. It was titled “Rev My Engine” so he didn’t know why he was surprised by what was inside.

“It seems that you need to be taught a lesson,” Sam told Eliana as he grabbed hold of her throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. His fingers were pumping in and out of her cunt, feeling it getting even wetter as his grip tightened. He had her right where he wanted her and she seemed to be into it considering how her eyes were glazed over.

“What the fuck?” He whispered to himself, confused, but simultaneously intrigued by what was on the page. That didn’t surprise him, but what did was that you, sweet, innocent- seeming you had been reading something so…filthy.

Tyler sat down on the edge of your bed and flipped back to the first page to see how the couple had gotten to that point. Even though he didn’t read much, he had to admit that his interest was piqued. He was so invested, in fact, that he hadn’t even heard you come in. It wasn’t until he heard you clear your throat that he remembered where he was.

“What are you doing?” You asked, setting your purse down by the door and Tyler felt his cheeks burn as he had been caught.

“I was just-“ he tried to come up with an excuse, but it was deemed useless as he was still holding the book.

“You were just what, Tyler?” You marched over to him to take the book from his hand, but he held it out of your grasp, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“I haven’t finished it. You can have it back when I’m done, darlin’.” He then stood from the bed and moved to the door, racing out of it and into the hallway.

You followed, hot on his heels as you heard his laughs echoing down the hallway. He got to the living room and stood on the couch, holding it completely out of your reach even when you had climbed up with him.

“I had no idea you were into this kind of stuff, y/n,” he teased. “I mean, you’re so shy and innocent, but I should have guessed since it always seems to be the quiet ones.”

Your cheeks were now burning with embarrassment. You knew that Tyler was just teasing, but you still couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. People had always been weird about you reading that kind of content, but what they didn’t know was that you mostly sought it out because real men couldn’t seem to please you so you had to take matters into your own hands.

“I do have a question for you though,” he said, flipping through the pages. “Why read this, when you could have the real thing?”

You leaned close to him, reaching for the book, but you still couldn’t get to it. Your body was now pressed to his and if you could feel how hard he was, you didn’t say anything.

“Tyler, I’ve told you all about my sex life and I’m not really comfortable-”

“No-” he interrupted. “I mean, why not have the real thing…with me?” You froze in that moment, staring up at him with wide eyes, your mouth agape.

You let go of him, his question finally setting in. He wanted to sleep with you? Was this only because he had found your book or had he actually been wanting to sleep with you and this was the best way for him to bring it up?

“With you?” You asked and he nodded, hopping down from the couch before offering you his hand. You hesitantly took it and it was like electricity was shooting through you. You were now suddenly aware of how soft but rough his hand was.

“Yes,” he nodded, his green eyes boring into yours. “With me. If you want to. No pressure.”

You thought about it for a second, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and Tyler watched you, finding himself wanting to be the one to bite down on it and he kissed you until you were both breathless.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Without a word, Tyler grabbed you by the back of your neck, pressing his lips to yours. You were quick to respond, grabbing onto his shirt, pulling him even closer to you before wrapping your arms around his waist while his free hand went to the small of your back.

You and Tyler had never kissed before, but there was something about it that felt right, your lips slotting together like two puzzle pieces. His were soft and warm and you flicked your tongue across it, wanting to know if he tasted as good as he always smelled.

He tasted like a mixture of mint and tobacco and while normally you would have thought it was gross, this time, you couldn’t get enough, letting your tongue roam all over his mouth to taste as much of him as you could.

A moan fell from your lips at the feeling of his tongue scraping against yours and you could feel Tyler’s dick getting even harder against you. His hands moved down to the bottom of your shirt, slipping it off to reveal your bra. It was a black, lacy thing that left little up to the imagination.

“Oh, what is this?” he asked, his eyes going dark. “Were you wanting someone to see it?”

“I-I have a ton of them. I don’t wear them for anyone, I wear them for me. To make me feel good about myself.”

“That’s really admirable. It’s hot,” he said, His nose brushing along your jaw. “You’re hot.” He then buried his face into your neck, peppering the spot with kisses as you tilted your head to the side, letting your eyes close as his kisses got longer, his tongue swiping back and forth along your skin.

Tyler began to suck on the spot and you moaned again, your back arching into him. He could feel your heartbeat hammering and chuckled to himself that he of all people could make you feel that way.

His teeth slid along the spot and you let out a gasp before melting into him, letting his hand come up and support your head as he continued to work.

“I bet your fictional men can’t do this, can they?” He chuckled before diffusing the sting with his tongue.

“D-definitely not,” you replied, trying your best to not sound out of breath. “Tyler, I think I’m gonna-” your words were cut off by a loud moan falling from your lips, your back arching again.

“Wow, I haven’t even gotten inside you and you’re already coming for me?” He pressed a kiss to your lips. “That must be a new record. Now c’mon, let’s go somewhere more private, hm?”

You couldn’t even respond to him, your head feeling cloudy as your body went limp in his arms. Your legs were starting to feel weak and Tyler picked you up and carried you to your bed, setting you down on it gently.

You removed your jeans and underwear while Tyler did the same. You reached for a condom in the drawer of your bedside table, watching him roll it onto his massive cock before he climbed onto top of you.

“Feel free to be as loud as you want. Tell me what you like, what you don’t. And if you want to stop, let me know and we can. I want you to enjoy this. That’s my number one priority. This is about you.”

“About me?” You asked, feeling your eyes getting a little misty. You had only slept with one other person. It was your freshman year of college and all he had done was get inside you and pump a few times before he came then pulled out before he left. It seemed that he just cared about himself, leaving you to finish up the job.

Ever since then, you had been afraid to sleep with anyone else. But Tyler was different. You were confident that he could make you feel good, that he would be attentive and nothing but sweet the entire time.

“All you. What do you want me to do?” He asked, one of his hands cupping your cheeks.

“I want you inside me, please,” you asked, your voice soft. Tyler liked himself up with you and slowly inserted himself, watching your every move.

He began to thrust, starting slowly to warm you up. He usually liked it rough, but this time he was going to be soft and gentle because that was what you deserved. He knew all about your first time and was intending on giving you one that you deserved.

He watched you underneath him, his mind wandering to that passage he had read in your book. You read about choking, but did that mean that you were actually into it? Maybe he’d try it out later when you had gotten used to him.

You grabbed onto him as you bucked your hips into his as he grabbed onto your hips, his thrusts getting a little faster, just trying to match your energy.

“Faster,” you breathed. “Harder.”

He did as you asked and your moans were like music to his ears, especially when it was his name that fell from your lips. He never thought your friendship would get to this point, but now that it had, he could imagine being in a relationship with you. He wasn’t really that kind of guy, but for you? He could be. He would be anything you asked.

“Just like that,” you said, continuing to buck your hips against his.

“Yeah?” He asked, his thrusts becoming even harder and faster. “You like that?”

“So good,” you moaned, bucking your hips against his again and again with more force each time. He let out moans of his own and you felt yourself getting even more wet at the sounds. They were hot and breathy and were definitely going to live rent free in your head for the rest of your life.

“Doing so good, darlin’,” he cooed. “I think you deserve a treat.”

“What? Are you gonna choke me?” You asked, batting your lashes.

“Do you want me to choke you?”

“I do,” you nodded. “Please.”

His hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed, but not enough to actually do anything. He then began to pound into you as his grip on your neck tightened, more moans falling from your lips, your breathing becoming even more labored.

“Yeah? You like this, huh?” He asked and all you could do was nod.

“What else do you like? handcuffs?” You shook your head and Tyler let go, realizing that he was choking a bit too hard.

“I-I want to be spanked,” you replied once you could breathe again. Tyler took no time to flip you over so that you were on top of him.

He helped you lie flat on top of him as he leaned up to kiss you, his hands resting flat on your back, sliding down slowly until they reached your ass. He put a hand on each cheek and gave them a squeeze, catching you off guard, causing you to accidentally bite down on his bottom lip.

“Sorry,” you apologized with a sheepish smile.

“That’s okay,” he replied. “Just kiss it better, hm?” He pecked his bottom lip and he smiled up at you, his eyes darkening as his hands lifted from your ass, giving it a rough smack, causing you to let out a yelp.

“Again,” you commanded.

“Honey, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, I do. That’s the point, Ty.”

“Alright, but you asked for it, sweetheart.” He smacked your ass again and again as you buried your face into his neck as if elicited moan after moan from you.

You were crying into his shoulder, begging for more until the skin felt raw. Tyler honestly never would have guessed you would have been into any of that, but he was more than willing to match your freak, having no intention of shaming you for what you were into, just wanting to go with the flow.

Tyler flipped you over again gently then pulled out of you before cleaning the two of you up. He then helped you put on some pajamas and grabbed some of his own that he usually left there before he changed.

Once the both of you were dressed, you climbed into bed, Tyler pulling you to his chest like normal. Your arms wrapped around each other and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“So same thing in the morning?” You asked, looking up at him with an adorable smile.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, darlin’,” he chuckled and the two of you drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms just like usual.

#tyler owens #tyler owens x fem!reader #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens smut #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens fluff #tyler owens x you #twisters

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pixxyofice · 4 months

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🏰 cursinguponcastles

of course i manage to grab everything EXCEPT for my anxiety medications. they're still stuck there!! in the House!!! every night I worry my friends are going to leave me for asking them to come along and some part of my brain is like "you wouldn't be worrying if you had taken your meds" and I have to then tell my brain the meds. ARE NOT WITH ME!!!

(this post is unrebloggable.)

(anon) asked:

plum? how have you been running this blog without anxiety meds?

🏰 cursinguponcastles replied:

Um! How did you know I didn't have my anxiety meds??

(anon) asked:

Don't the Houses keep stuff, like, forever? I'm sure if you go back to that House you'll be able to get your meds back. Unless it's like, frozen or something?

🏰 cursinguponcastles replied:

Oh. Ohhhh. Well, um! I am going back to get them! They're back in Dormont! I just won't be focused on getting my meds when I'm there, you know??

🎗 ribbpeat reblogged from 🍑 yetanotherfinepeach

🍑 yetanotherfinepeach

so was anyone going to tell me the savior of vaugarde runs a horror blog account or was I supposed to just find that out from her APPARENTLY LEAVING HER MEDS IN THE CENTER FREEZING POINT

🍙 chateau-riceballs reblogged from 🧦 socks-to-be

🍯 lovelyhoney-truths

and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, the savior of vaugarde turns out to be a tumblr user

🛴 offowchmy-nkee

and this is bad... how?

🍯 lovelyhoney-truths

How is this not obvious to you people? She's on tumblr. She's been ACTIVE. Instead of doing her job of saving us she's been giggling about her little vaugarde boys getting eaten. I'm sitting here typing with one arm waiting for vaugarde to be saved, and she's wasting time reading. Boo-hoo she left her anxiety meds in the House where the King is freezing all of us from. Actually, wait! Why didn't she just turn around and take him out? If she's supposed to save vaugarde, assigned to, and she was close to its starting point, why the hell did she walk the other direction and faff about?! Some Savior she is! Most of the country is frozen because of her! And instead of just shutting up and doing her job she went on a funny little pilgrimage. I'm not calling her a Savior anymore.

🐱 ChangeGirlClaws

do you know about the existence of paragraph breaks. Like at all.

🎀 darts-chatting-blogg

Instead of looking at... all of that, apparently not everybody knows this so look at this.

THE DOORS OF DORMONT GOT LOCKED BY THE KING AND THE SAVIORS HAVE TO FIND FIVE ORBS TO BE ABLE TO EVEN TRY TO SAVE US. And in case you don't know, Vaugarde is huge! The saviors passed by my place a week ago and they only had four Orbs then.

I think Plum and her friends are making good progress, actually! I think she's allowed to relieve stress by reading about guts and gore, actually.

🍙 chateau-riceballs

she's what

🐝 finalgirl-standing reblogged from 🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde

🍯 lovelyhoney-truths

Not only does that orb bullshit sound made up and stupid, but apparently Plum also runs a guts and gore blog??? what the fuck is wrong with her. Has she Changed to be so disgusting when she should be Changing herself to be able to save the country?? Do you guys really believe that shit? I haven't heard of a House where Orbs lock the gates, that's clearly her making up excuses for why she can't just go there and beat him. How can her friends stand to be with her when she's this irresponsible?

🎀 darts-chatting-blogg

One. The King warped the place (see image here!) and Dormont was known for experimenting with locks. People just be saying crab, I guess.

Two. Defenders. Get their asses. I'll start.

🎗 ribbpeat

🍑 yetanotherfinepeach

🛴 offowchmy-nkee

🐱 ChangeGirlClaws

🍙 chateau-riceballs

🦴 justanotherchange-blog

⚓️ insertcreativebloghere

🧦 socks-to-be

🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde

🐝 finalgirl-standing

(this post is unrebloggable.)

⚓️ insertcreativebloghere reblogged from 🦴 justanotherchange-blog

🦴 justanotherchange-blog

if I was on a journey to save the country and I forgot my focusing meds at home I would just forget everything. Honestly, Plum's doing much better than I am???

⚓️ insertcreativebloghere

If i had to save the country without my meds i would've thrown myself into the sea

🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde

(a picture of the countryside. Half of it is frozen, and the other half isn't)

Well. It was an honor, everyone. I'm glad to have contributed to the crab pow.

🏰 cursinguponcastles reblogged 🐧 penguin-do-be-writing

🐧 penguin-do-be-writing

hi everyone, sorry for the silence! My family has been loudly debating what to do about the freezing country, I think i touched something weird and my feet have stopped working for me, so it's hard to get to my writing desk. whoops! it's been a struggle to get words written down. Don't worry, though! I've got a chapter for everyone! This time, things get INTENSE. That internal organs being not internal warning was for a reason!

🏰 cursinguponcastles

CHANGE, THIS WAS SO GOOD!! I'm really sorry you're close to being frozen, but I could see how it affected how you wrote Dembélé struggling to get away! It felt too real, haha!!

I'll miss your fics! I, well, hopefully, will see you in a few months!!

#put more stuff under the read more because i dont wanna clog dashes #isat #in stars and time #dashboard simulator #unreality #?#mirabelle focused.

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dsybouquet · 10 months

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ceo! ellie - 3

what if a broke uni student met the ceo of one of the most impactful companies right now? without her even knowing?

lowercase is intentional

read part 1 aaaand part 2 right here ! xx

"good to see you, ellie."

"hey dina."

ellie lightly said, giving her lawyer a hug. she in fact was relived to see the silghtly older woman sitting in her office chair, smiling ever so lightly.

"what's the news?"

the ceo asked, lighting herself a cigarette before loosening the hair tie that hold her bun together. she looked at the slightly older woman with confused eyes.

"good or bad news first?"

"good i guess?"

she sat down besides dina to have a look at the lawyers screen, like she would understand all the paragraphs and lawyer language she had all over her desktop.

it‘s been a while since ellie and dina had so much to discuss. when ellie became ceo, they would talk every day, also about non business topics. sometimes they both wonder how they grew apart like this.

"good news is, we will not get sued!"

dina exclaimed, clapping her hands slightly. she threw an encouraging smile at ellie.

"the client is mad, however.. they have a different way for you to make up for it. so the bad news is-"

"let me guess, our yearly charity event should be in honor to them instead of joel?“

the blackhaired woman raised an eyebrow.

"i mean, yeah kinda. they want to be more represented.“

ellie got up from her seat and walked around the office. the smoke of her cigarette hugging her face every time she blew it out.

„did i ever mention how i despise abby sometimes?“

„like every other day.“

dina just laughed it off, she knew how much of an temper ellie could have - and over the years it got just worse.

„no like, seriously. ever since joel died in that car crash i have to deal with her bullshit and i can‘t do anything because they are the biggest client we have!“

and here it goes. ellie threw her cigarette in the ashtray before slumping on her office chair again.

joels death resulted in her taking his place - being the ceo of miller enterprises. and as much as she loved the money and the big cars and the responsibility, she also hated it. none of this is her‘s, it‘s joels. he did all the work, she just had to be next in line.

he had adopted her years after his daughter has passed away due to an medical condition. to say the least, ellie was a rough child and teen. she was loud, sarcastic and had her own will. of course she would listen to joel, after all he wad the only parental figure she had ever have.

„it‘s almost five years now.“

she mumbled, looking at her desk.

ellie hated christmas season and winter. she hated the snow and the beautiful lights. she hated it because it reminded her of him. of the call from dina, the hours in the hospital, the beeping sound of the machine that so desperately tried to keep him alive.

„i know.“

dina added, leaning against ellie’s table. she gave her a encouraging smile.

„how about we start the planning tomorrow? go home and have a good nights rest.“

and so ellie left the office with a small goodbye to dina and went back to her car. she sat down in the drivers seat. as much she loved her car, she didn’t want to drive.

tears slowly build up in her eyes, but she quickly swallowed it when she saw an unfamiliar book on the passenger seat. a book about.. the human psyche ?

you must have forgotten it when ellie dropped you off at home.

„damn it.“

she said under her breath and whipped out her phone, calling your number immediately. and to her surprise you picked up very fast.

„hey ellie! are you okay ?“

your voice was so gentle, ellie was about to die from it’s sweetness.

„hey dear. yeah don’t worry. uh- you forgot your book in my car. need me to drop it off ?“

there was some noise on the background, sounding like you fumbling around in your bag to find it.

„that would be great, ellie. i‘ll make up for it.“

she smiled, starting her engine and looking up your adress from her recent routes.

„i will be there in 20! see ya, ______!“

and off she went, excitement now building up.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

„hey, thank you so much.“

you smiled, waiting on your doorstep, still in the same hoodie, but with pyjamas pants below now.

„no worries.”

“are you free? i can cook you some dinner. you know, to make up for you having to drive here again?“

now ellie smiled but shook her head.

„no, it‘s fine. don‘t worry.“

„ellie, c‘mon. let me do something for you as well!“

and how could she say no to some with a pretty face like yours?

so she agreed, and you lead her up the stairs to your apartment. it was small but lovely and well decorated. scented candles burned in the hallway and the living room was dimly lit with a lap and the led strips behind your running tv.

„it‘s not much but it‘s affordable - for an uni student at least.“

you smiled before going to your kitchen counted which was connected to your living room.

„what do you mean? it‘s pretty!“

ellie eyes the nerdy figurines on your shelves and the pictures on your walls while you grabbed two wine glasses from your shelf.

„are you fine with a cheap rose?“

you asked her as you opened your fridge. ellie looked at you and just felt all the weight of her work falling off her shoulders. she felt.. normal. like you. oh, how she wished to be an uni student, living her best life in an small apartment instead of leading people and having responsibilities beyond imagination.

of course, she did not have to worry about bills or anything. but money and power doesn’t buy happiness. this does.

„absolutely!“

she sat down on one of your kitchen chairs and watched you pour in the wine with a smile.

„thank you dear.“

she said so softly your knees got weak. and you smiled, letting your glass softly hit hers before taking a sip, not breaking eye contact.

„so, i can offer you: noodles with green pesto, noodles with red pesto, or i can try my luck with a mushroom risotto. additionally, i can also make a side salad.“

you smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter. ellie hadn’t felt this carelessness and even happiness in a while. after all, she never had this.

„risotto sounds amazing.“

she smiled, watching you sigh in despair.

„of course you choose the hardest dish. will not guarantee that it will be good!“

you reached for a pan and put out all ingredients; mushrooms that would have to leave your fridge soon anyways, risotto rice, onion and garlic. the simplicity as so beautiful to ellie.

„let me help.“

and so she cut the mushrooms and washed the rice while you took care of the onions and garlic. the two of you laughed and made fun of each other’s cutting skills while emptying your wine glasses and watching the risotto take form.

„that‘d actually pretty bomb!“

you exclaimed while taking the first bite, already half way down on the second wine glass.

„ellie, we are a great team in the kitchen!“

ellie smiled, agreeing with you.

„like hell, we are!“

you spend your dinner laughing and talking about all sorts of things. friends, memories, drunk accidents that were embarrassing. it felt so light to finally not have business talks with people she couldn’t care less about.

after washing the dishes, and pouring a third glass of wine, you took the conversation to your small but comfortable couch.

and it got late, waaaay too late. and the snow kept falling, causing the streets to be white.

„you shouldn’t be driving home tonight.“

you said, looking at the streets while ellie smoked a cigarette on your balcony.

„nah, i will be fine. i don’t want to take up your space.“

„no ellie, i mean it. we drank, it‘s snowy. it would be better for you to sleep here.“

after a while of convincing, she finally agreed, snapping her cigarette off your balcony.

„and you get to spend more time with me. feel honoured!“

you joked, not knowing that it was exactly what she wanted. to spend more time with you, in this carefree environment. where she can be herself, where she can be just ellie and doesn‘t have to be ellie williams - ceo of miller enterprises.

after finishing the last glass of wine, you decided to call it a night. you gave ellie a hoodie from your closet and a pair of pyjama pants before brushing your teeth in the bathroom and doing your daily skincare. when you returned, you laughed a little. she looked so cute in your huge uni hoodie and the fluffy pj pants.

„why are you laughing?!“

„im just used to seeing you in business clothing. but this is adorable!“

she rolled her eyes and took the spare toothbrush you held in her direction.

„fuck off !“

one more laughter left your throat before you prepared the bed for two. luckily it was big enough. although your couch was comfortable, it was small and most likely would break either your or ellies back when sleeping a night on it.

so you shared a bed. after all, thats nothing to worry about, right?

both of you kind of awkward tugged in before facing each other. the wine did make all of this less awkward. once again you noticed how pretty ellie was. the freckles and little eyebrow scar.. her long lashes that made her green eyes even prettier, her auburn hair that hugger her face perfectly.. she was perfect.

and she thought the same about you. her hand reached out to your face and tugged a piece of your hair behind your ear. oh how she wanted to kiss you - yet she didn’t, not knowing you wanted it too.

“good night, ellie.”

“night, ______.”

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

THERE WE GOOOOO. different from what i wanted, but i hope you enjoy ✧*:.｡.

part 4 is here ! ! bye bye xx

taglist: @harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj @elliewilliamsgf69 @weridcattty @feelsoseencantdream @honeymoonbbie @katymae12344 @aouiaa @bbglmfao

#ceo ! ellie #ellie williams tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 ellie #ellie x reader

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samandcolbyownme · 3 months

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i forgot to reupload this - enjoy again!

Summary: Anon request - "Heey, i hope u're good and i hope u're accepting requests. I'm in love with ur works and i was wondering if u could write a very smutty piece about Sam and the reader being best friends (she's living with snc, bc they've been best friends all their lives). Maybe lately both Sam and the reader start noticing each other a lot more than before, like y/n is studying one night and Sam comes back from his run, they have a late night snack and it's all blushy and cute. But the upcoming days there's a lot of sexual tension between them until Sam just decides to put an end to their friendship to become more. I hope it's ok ♥️"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, angst, hair pulling, choking, scratching, oral (f rec), fluff with filth

Word Count: 5.7k | Not Edited Yet

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You sat on the couch, lap top on your lap as you typed up your paper for school. It was quiet since Sam and Colby went out to meet someone about a possible exploration, so you put your headphones on to drown out the silence.

You were too zoned out on getting this thing written that you completely missed the text Sam sent which stated that they would be home soon.

After ten more minutes of typing, you close your lap top and stand up, letting out a scream as they laugh, "Honey, we're home." Colby says with a laugh and you sigh, "I see that."

Sam smiles at you, and you hated when he did that, mainly because it made you fall more in love with him, and you couldn't do that.

You guys were best friends.

Emphasis on the friend's part. You knew them, pretty much your whole life, and even though they haven't ever really said it, you knew that it would even be weird to talk about it, or so you thought.

"How was the meeting thing?" You ask as they walk over towards you. Sam shrugs, "They're going to let us in, it's just a matter of finding out when exactly." He plops down onto the couch, "Get that paper done?"

You sit back down, opening your computer back up, "Almost. I need like two more paragraphs."

"What's it on again?" Colby asks turning your computer towards him, "Geoengineering technology? You are way too smart for your own good."

You laugh and you can see Sam staring at you lovingly but you don't want to get your hopes up, "Yeah, sometimes I wonder if that's why I get headaches, too much knowledge up here."

Colby laughs, "You know you don't have to go to school right? You can just fully commit to joining the xplr squad."

You roll your eyes, "We've been friends for how many years? I've been a part of that squad before it was even thought of."

Sam laughs as Colby nods while laughing, "You got me there. I'll give you that one." You smirk and look over at Sam, "Did you beat your time this morning? I wanted to ask but I had to leave before you got back."

Sam sighs, "yes and no. I did but not by much, so.."

"You'll get there. You have plenty of time." You smile at him and stand up, "I have an evening class tonight so I'll see you guys after five or so." You walk up to change, and right before you enter your room, Colby speaks, but it's not as quiet as he thinks, "You gotta tell her, bro."

You perk up, curious as to what they're talking about.

"There's no way. No, Colby. I can't just spring that on her." Sam argues back and his voice goes quiet, making it hard for you to hear.

You shake the thoughts out of your head and continue in to get dressed. You throw on a pair of jeans, sneakers, and one of the new hoodies from Sam's collection.

You grab your backpack and head back downstairs, "I'll see you guys later, do you want me to grab dinner on my way back?"

"Yeah, that'll be good." Colby looks at you and nods, "Get whatever, you know what we get." You smile and nod, "Okay."

Your eyes meet Sam's and he smiles at you. He loved seeing you in his own merch. You are his favorite model, but you didn't know that, for sure.

Sam's eyes stay on you as he watches you search for your keys,"by the microwave, y/n." You look over and lo and behold they're there, "Thank you!"

He yells out a quick, "Welcome!" as you leave the house. You make your way to your car, the thoughts running rabid through your mind,

He's got a girlfriend and he's going to ask me to move out because he knows I like him and it's weird.

You get in, sitting there for a moment before starting your car and driving to campus.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"It's not weird at all." Your friend Lacey says leaning back in her chair, "You've been friends for a while, and I always say the friendship stage is the most important thing before dating someone. And you my friend, have it perfect."

You sigh, "But the way they were talking I just... I feel like he's going to tell me he is talking to someone and he knows I like him and- Gahhhh." You groan quietly and take a deep breath as she leans over, "I've witnessed you and Sam together in a room full of people, and I can tell you that he doesn't look at anybody the way he looks at you."

"Really?" You ask, her words giving you a little bit of hope and she nods, "Really. And just a little f.y.i, best friends don't look at each other the way you and Sam do."

You smile slightly as you think about what she said, "I just don't know how to tell him, like.. my anxiety about the friendship ending gets the best of me because I don't want to lose him, and I know him and Colby are a package deal, so I'd lose them both and it just-"

"Take a breather. Why don't you talk to Colby about it? I'm sure he knows a lot of their end."

You shake your head, "I couldn't do that. I feel like Sam is the one I need to talk to or not at all.. I just.. I just have to get over myself."

As your professor starts talking, you keep thinking about everything, but little did you know, Sam and Colby weren't editing videos like you thought, they were having almost the same conversation you and Lacey were having.

Growing up, the adults would pick on you and Sam for claiming to be just friends, and for a while there, it was really true, but as you got older, the truth was covered up.

Each video you have done with them, the fans have pointed out things about you and Sam. Some would be simple comments, basically what Lacey said, about how you look at each other.

Then others would be making a big deal out of you picking to run to Sam after something scared you during the investigation. Most of the time it's because Sam is right there, you'd run to Colby too if you needed to, but who are you kidding, Sam is your safe place so of course you'll run to him first.

You never commented back to it, because that would just lead to more confusing things, so you just brush it off most of the time. You've never say anything to Sam about it because you know more than likely already seen them, and if he hasn't said anything, why should you?

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You pull your phone out as you walk to your car, texting the group chat, I'm just going to go somewhere close, I have to study for a stupid test tomorrow and I don't want to be up all night.

You toss your backpack into the passenger seat and get in, reading Colby's reply, that's fine

Sam replies after, whatever is easiest for you.

You set your phone down and start driving, going where you need to go before heading home.

You see someone walking towards your car which makes you kind of skeptical about getting out. You reach up to lock your doors until you see the big X on the front of it, letting out a sigh of relief.

You push open your door and lean your head out, "Don't scare me like that."

"Like what?" Sam asks as he pushes his hood down, giving you a smile. You get out and stand up, "Walking towards my car when it's almost dark out with your hood up."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just threw it on, I figured you'd need help carrying stuff in." He takes your backpack from your hands and slings it over his shoulder, "Anything else?"

You shake your head, "No I can get the rest. Thank you."

He nods, smiling at you for a few seconds before cleaning his throat, "Colby is hungry so we should probably get back in there."

"Of course he is." You laugh, grabbing everything else before walking inside with Sam. You wanted to blurt it out on your way up to the house, but it was like you couldn't speak at all.

"Finally." Colby teases as you walk in through the door that Sam held open for you, "Thanks." You mumble quietly, going back to normal volume when talking to Colby, "There was a line, I'm sorry."

He laughs as he points to you, "Don't let it happened again."

You salute him, "Yes sir, Colby sir."

"Yeah that's right." He laughs, making you laugh and Sam smiles as he enjoys how comical you and Colby are.

After dinner, you find yourself on the floor of the living room with your books spread out across the rug, "I'm so screwed." You mumble to yourself, "I should know this."

"Have trouble there Einstein?" Sam asks as he walks over to the couch and sits down. You look up at him and nod, "This stupid surprise test, that actually isn't a stupid surprise because I knew about it, I just forgot.." you laugh slightly, "Will be the death of me."

"Just relax, don't overdo it. When was the last time you took a break?"

Him being so caring makes it harder, no one has ever cared about you the way Sam does, "dinner."

"Y/n that was two hours ago." Sam laughs slightly and sighs, "Take a break, go shower or something. Reset and come back."

You push yourself off of the floor and sit, "Maybe you're the one who's too smart for their own good." You stand up, stretching and Sam can't help but notice your shirt ride up your stomach a little bit.

He shakes his head as his voice is low, "If that was the case then.." he trails off as Colby comes down the steps, "you're having a party and didn't invite me?"

"Yeah, you can help me study. We'll call it a study buddy party." You laugh as Colby stands right back up after sitting down, "No thanks. I'm out."

You laugh and toss your pen down, "I'm going for a shower anyway. I need a break." You hike it up the stairs and when you look back, Sam looks away from you quickly.

You look away smiling and make your way to the bathroom.

After a while of being upstairs, finding things to do to avoid going backstairs to your books, you sit down on your bed and lay back.

You think about what you want to say to Sam, or more of what you need to say.

You decide you're going to talk to him. Right now. You get up, and walk down the steps to find Colby sitting alone on the couch.

"Where's Sam?" You look around as you walk over to Colby. He looks up at you, "Said he was going for a run."

You look at the clock, "it's almost ten pm?" You furrow your brows, Sam usually never goes on late night runs like this, "Is he okay?"

A smirk grows on Colby's face and you point, "No. no. Don't even."

He holds his hands up, "My lips are sealed." You roll your eyes and look at your books, hoping to change the subject, "Can you just help me study for a little bit?"

He sighs and sits up, "Fine."

An hour goes by and Colby went up to work on some editing, leaving you alone in the kitchen as you worked on making yourself a snack.

You whispered questions to yourself, answering them, then celebrating when you got the right answer.

You hear the door open and Sam walks in, freezing slightly as he wasn't expecting you to be up, "Oh, hey."

"Hey." You smile and turn back towards your book, "How was the run?"

He shuts the door, shrugging as he sets his phone and headphones on the counter, "Not what I expected really."

"You want to talk about it?" You go back to putting peanut butter on your banana slices and he walks over, looking over your shoulder as he reaches around and takes one, "i don't know how to talk about it."

You nod slowly, "I know that feeling."

He leans against the counter, "We've been friends for a while, y/n."

You glance over at him, a small smile resting on your lips, "Longer than a while, Sam." He chuckles and nods, "a lot longer than a while."

You set your knife down, licking your lips as you work your the courage to ask what you want to ask most.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Sam asks, reading you like an open book, "You can always talk to me. Or Colby. You know we both care so much about-"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

He's taken aback slightly, "What?" He laughs and shakes his head, "No, no. I don't." He looks up at you, crossing his arms, "What makes you think that I have a girlfriend?"

You turn towards him slightly, "When I went up to get ready before my class.. I heard Colby tell you that you have to tell her, and I didn't.." you trail off, sighing as you close your eyes, "Nevermind."

Sam stares at you for a few seconds, "Oh.." he chuckles, "That.. yeah no.. that was about a girl who I've been talking to.." he follows up quickly, "..but not in the way you think."

You nod, your heart sinking slightly, "Ah, I see."

"Yeah, I have to tell her that I'm not interested in her." Sam tilts his head towards you, "She hasn't gotten the hint yet, and I don't want to be douche about it."

"Yeah, no of course not." You smirk slightly, "You're only mean to me." He laughs, "Well yeah, but you know what they say.." He sighs and leans over, taking another banana slice, "if a boy picks on a girl?"

You try to fight a smile, but you fail so you look down, "I've heard that saying before."

"Then you can probably put two and two together." He smiles at you as you look up at him, "I'm going to bed, we have to meet someone in the morning about the exploration."

"Maybe don't be up so late."

"Could say the same to you." He winks and jogs up the steps, leaving you to ask yourself, does Sam like me back?

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Over the next few days, the energy between you and Sam was different.

You felt drawn to him.

And he felt drawn to you.

You looked at him with so much love, and lust. You needed Sam, now. It felt like you were aching for him, but after the kinda, yet not-so cryptic conversation you had with him the one night, you just weren't sure what was in store for you and Sam.

You've been flirty, almost feeling like you and Sam were closer. You would pass each other and his hand would land somewhere on your body, usually your lower back, and it would send a shock up your spine.

"Morning." You say walking down the steps, "How'd your investigation go?"

"Sam, why don't you show her the footage?" Colby says nudging Sam's arm. He takes a deep breath, "I don't think.."

"You're coming back with us tomorrow night. That's all I'm saying." Colby holds his hands up, shaking his head and you look at Sam, pointing to Colby, "What's he talking about?"

He licks his lips and sighs with a smirk, "Come on. I'll show you." You nod, following him back up the stairs, "Did it go good?"

You follow him into his room and sit on his bed as he sits in the chair infront of his computer, "It was a loving spirit, basically, so yeah, it went good."

You lean forward slightly, eyes on Sam as he clicks on things. A shy smile grows on his face, "I know you're not looking at the computer."

He slowly turns his head towards you and you keep your eyes on him, "So what if I wasn't?" He cocks his jaw to the right as he smirks, "Never said it was a bad thing." He nods towards the computer, "Come here."

You stand up, moving over to stand next to him. You press your hand on the desk and lean down slightly, watching as he presses play.

You can tell he's watching you, but he's waiting for your reaction.

"Can you repeat that for us please?" Sam asks on the video. After a few moments, you hear your name, clear as day and it wasn't from either one of the guys, "What the hell?"

You look at Sam and he holds his hand up, "Just wait."

You look back at the screen, "Something moved in that doorway." You lay your finger on the screen and Sam leans forward, "What? No way."

"Rewind it... yeah.. there stop." You glance at Sam and nod towards the screen, "Now watch." He presses play, eyes on the screen and he leans back, eyes wide, "How did we miss that?"

You laugh slightly, "I don't know."

He watches in shock, "Why don't you ever come with us anymore?"

You hoped this question wouldn't ever be asked.

"School, you know that Sam." You look at him quickly before reaching for the mouse to hit play, but he stops you, "That's the fake, I don't want to talk about it reason. Tell me the real reason."

You stand up, letting out a quiet sigh, "I just didn't want to get in the way." He tilts his head, "In the way of what?"

You shrug, unsure of what to say.

"Is it the comments? About us, and what people think we are?" Sam crosses his arms and looks up at you. You laugh nervously, giving him a nod, "I guess so."

He chews on his lip, "Uh huh." He smirks and leans forward, "Well they'll have a hay day with this." He clicks play and pulls you to sit on his thigh.

You lean forward, listening to Colby speak on the video, "What does y/n have to do with this?"

".. Sam .. it's time .."

You furrow your brows, continuing to listen to the video,

"Sam.. Sam.." you see Colby grab Sam's arm and Sam looks terrified, "Colby.."

"Sam.. she's a good spirit.. she's made it known she doesn't want to hurt anyone." Colby assures him, "you think she's telling you that you need to tell her?"

"Tell who what?" Sam shoots back and you look back at him. He's resting his chin on the palm of his hand and you look back at the screen.

"Y/n.. tell y/n that you like her more than you're letting on, man." Colby's voice is low, almost like they tried to keep it a secret but forgot the camera was rolling?

"Yeah, yeah. You're probably right, Colby.. I just.. how do they know that?" Sam is confused, "I just don't.. oh my god.."

"... together..."

"Should y/n and Sam be together?" Colby asks, "If you say yes, make that little light go off for us." Instant light and Sam pauses the video, "Lady Zeroni was known as a match maker back in her day but it turned deadly when a man who wasn't happy with the person she chose for him came back and went on a total murderous rampage throughout the entire house."

You lean back slightly, "So what you're saying is..." you laugh slightly and rest your hand on the top of his chair, "A ghostly matchmaker is saying we should.. what? Be together?"

Sam stares up at you, "The whole time, I kept thinking about you. Here alone. Like we don't know what we deal with sometimes and when your name is said, my immediate thought was you in danger and I just.."

You listen as he trails off, "When I asked about you having a girlfriend, I was scared you were going to ask me to move out because of how I feel about you."

"Wait.. how do you feel about me?" He tilts his head and tries not to smile and you laugh, putting your hand over his face, "Shut up."

He takes your hand off his face and holds it gently in yours, playing with the ring that's on your middle finger, "I'm scared as hell to want you.." his voice is quiet, "But here I am.." he looks up at you, "..wanting you anyway."

You look up at him quickly and your eyes meet his, "I know that feeling, too." He smirks slightly, letting out a breath of air, "We've been friends for a wh-" he stops himself, smiling as he corrects his words, "We've been friends for our whole lives basically, and I just.."

"Don't want to ruin the friendship?"

He nods, "Exactly."

You nod, "Since we're being honest.. I don't know when it happened, but all I know is that you're the first person I run to when I'm scared, happy, sad, anything." You tilt your head, "I mean, when we're doing a video, I run to Colby too, but mainly because he's close, but everything is just.. it's just very different with you."

"You look at me way different than you look at Colby, I know that for a fact. Actually, Colby was the one who brought it to my attention and I honestly tried pushing it off because I wasn't sure if it was too weird.. like we've known each other for so, so long and we've reached that max level of comfortability with each other... it's just.."

"It's a real amazing thing, Sam. Not many people, or should I say, many people would kill to have the type of relationship we have." You run your hand through his hair, and he closes his eyes, "Lacey told me that best friends don't look at each other the way we do."

His eyes flutter open and he smiles, "Colby told me the same thing."

"And I read the comments on our videos, and I just didn't want you guys to stop getting views or have your name being drug through the mud because we were being too touchy with each other."

He pulls you closer, "Your safety is my number one priority during those and if me keeping an arm around you while we're in some sketchy ass haunted house makes you feel secure, then I'm going to do it."

You smile, laying a hand on his chest, "I may have overthought a lot of it."

He nods, "Oh me too, one hundred percent."

He runs his bottom lip under his teeth, "I've been waiting years to do this." He slides his hand up, pulling you in so he can press his lips gently to yours.

Your hand moves to his cheek as you deepen the kiss and he pulls back, scanning over your face as a smile forms on his lips, "Now that I think about it, we'd make a great couple."

You tilt your head and scrunch up your nose, "You think so?" He pulls you in to kiss you, mumbling against your lips, "Know so."

You hum against his, "You know what else?"

"Hmm?" He tilts his head back to rest against his chair, looking up at you as he waits for you to tell him.

You stand up, his hands still on your hips, "We know everything but one thing about each other."

He raises an eyebrow, "Oh yeah? What's that?"

You slide your hands to his, "Come on." He stands up, following you over to his bed, instantly picking up what you're laying down for him, "Mm. Are you sure?"

You turn around, slipping off your sweatshirt, "You have no idea how long I've thought about getting you into bed, Golbach."

He chuckles as he slips his own shirt off, "I think I have an idea, y/l/n." His hands lay on your hips and he gently sits you down on the bed.

You lay back as his body moves over top of yours, his hips resting perfectly between your knees. It's like you were made for each other.

"Tell me what you want, babe." Sam's voice is low as he moves to kiss down your neck, "I'm all yours now."

You felt a wave of calmness wash over you before you take his hand and slide it to your throat, "Prove it."

He smirks with a slight hesitation before slowly tightening his grip, "As you wish." His lips crash into yours, kissing every once of skin he can as he makes his way down to the top of your sweats.

He bites your waist band, looking up at you as he lets them snap against your skin with a smirk following the release, "Can I take these off?"

"You don't have to ask." You go to sit up and take them off, but he presses a hand flat to your chest, "Let me, do it baby."

You bite your lip, nodding as you lay back down.

His hands slide up your clothed thighs, squeezing them before slipping his fingers between the band and your skin, "I want to take my time with this."

You needed him now, but you understood.

"Okay, baby." You whisper and smile down at him, lifting your hips as he tugs your sweats down. His lips part slightly, leaning little open kisses up your legs.

He moves back up, hovering over you he grinds against you, "You have no idea how many times I've thought about you.." he leans down and kisses you, "Thought about you."

You smile, "I relate."

He kisses down your neck, "When you came down wearing one of my hoodies, I wanted to make you so late for class."

"Would have been worth it."

He smiles and brushes hair from your face, "Fuck, why'd we wait so long?" You shrug, "Good things take time, Sam."

He smiles and looks from your lips to your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. He rolls over and you follow, straddling him as your lips reconnect with his. You grind down on him, low moans escaping the seal of your lips on one another.

"Please." You whimper out, "I need you."

Sam grips your neck, squeezing slowly, "Say it again."

Your lips form into a smile, and you whimper. "I need you."

He sits up, wrapping his arm around your back, "You're so fucking beautiful." His lips press to yours, moving slowly as he uses his arm to make your body move.

You wrap your arm around his neck and grind down, moaning his name quietly. He leans back, "lay down for me."

You move and lay on your back, watching as Sam strips the rest of his clothes off, "Take them off for me." He nods towards your panties that are still on your body and you comply by taking them off and kicking them off the bed.

"You know, I've also thought about being between those legs.." he gets on his knees, moving towards the middle of the bed by your feet, "multiple times actually.. I was so close to pulling you into the bathroom at that party we went to last week and getting on my knees for you.." his eyes move up your naked body with a smirk, "You looked so fucking good."

Your heart skips a beat, remembering that, even in your drunken state at the time, Sam wouldn't stop looking at you.

"You should have." You whisper watching as he kisses up your legs, alternating sides with each kiss, "I wouldn't have minded."

"Trust me, the next party we go to, I'll make it happen." He winks before dipping his head down and taking your clit between his lips. You let out a gasp, laying a hand on the back of his head, "Sam!"

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling slightly as you arch your back, "Oh god, yes." You moan as you grind your hips against his face, whining out how good it feels.

His tongue sinks into you and you pull his hair, causing him to groan against you. Your other hand searches for something else to grab for leverage.

His hand throws your leg over his shoulder and your heel instantly digs in to pull him closer, "Fuck, Sam. Sam. I'm so close."

His fingertips dig into your skin, pinning you down as his tongue works its magic inside of you.

Your eyes roll back and your back lifts up off the bed as he brings you to orgasm, "Shit shit shit." You moan out, "Fuck."

He pulls away, immediately coming up to kiss you. His cock rubs against your pussy and you reach down, rubbing it up and down your soaked slit a few times before he pushes his hips forward, his cock slipping inside of you for the very first time.

You both moan, clinging to each other in anyway you can.

He slowly pulls out and slowly slides back in, taking in the feeling of you, "Fuck, you feel so good."

"S-Sam.." you press your chest to his, "Fuck me. Please."

He smirks and tilts his head, watching your face twist with the best pleasure you've ever received, "Fuck, yes." Your nails dig and drag up his back, "I love you."

Sam leans up, stopping his thrusts as he looks at you. Your face goes shocked, "I-I don't know where that ca-"

"He smiles and leans down to kiss you, "I love you more than words can say."

"Then show me." You say quickly before you press your lips to his, "and you don't have to be gentle with me anymore, Sam."

He smirks and shakes his head, "You're fucking perfect." His lips crash into yours and he pushes his hips all the way into you, moaning lowly against you.

He slides a hand down your body and hooks his arm under your knee. He pulls it up and the new angle causes you to gasp, "Fuck."

He starts out thrusting slow, but quickly builds up to a faster, punishing pace. He tilts his head back, moaning before looking down at you.

He sits up slightly and reaches his hand down to cup your chin. His thumb slides across your bottom lip and you part them instantly.

He watches as you take his thumb between your lips, hallowing out your cheeks as you suck. He groans lowly, "I'm never going to get tired of you in this position."

You smile, teeth gently biting down on his thumb and he takes a sharp breath, "Oh yeah. Never getting tired of you in general."

He pulls his hand away and lays beside you. You automatically roll over, straddling him to ride him. You tilt your head back with a moan as his cock slides back inside of you.

His hands immediately grip your hips and help guide you up and down, "Fuck." His eyes are glued to his cock disappearing inside of you, "Doing so good, baby."

Your eyes light up at the praise and he raises his eyebrows, "Like a little praise do we?" He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, "You're full of surprises aren't you?"

"You have no idea, Mr. Golbach."

He sits up slightly, "But I will."

He bends his legs up and your hands press to his knees as you bounce up and down, "Gonna cum." You whimper out as you slide all the way down and roll your hips, cursing out as you cum.

Sam is in awe of you, his eyes are moving all over your face, your body, "That's it, baby. Good girl."

Your eyes snap open and you lean down, kissing him as you move your hips up and down, "Only for you."

"Say.. say it again." He drags his fingers up your leg, "Please."

"A good girl, but only for you."

He flips you so you're back to being on your back and he's on top, thrusting into you, "Fucking right."

You smile, moaning out as you wrap your legs around his waist, "Fuck, fuck yes."

"M'so close." He mumbles into your neck, "Fuck. You're so good to me."

His thrusts slow down and turn kinda sloppy as he gets ready to break the grasp of your legs locked around him.

He pulls out to cum on your stomach and you lay there breathing heavy. He lays beside you, kissing your shoulder for a few seconds before standing up to grab you something to wipe off with.

He comes back, hanging you a towel with a smile. You take it from him and smirk, "What?"

"You're my girlfriend." He smiles and bites his lip, quietly celebrating. You tilt your head, "And you're my boyfriend." You smile at him and wipe up, tossing the towel on the floor before being met with a Sam laying his body over yours, "Should we go break the news to Colby?"

You sigh, "I can picture his celebration dance already."

Sam peppers kisses all over your face, getting you to laugh, "You're so cheesy." You turn your head, pecking his lips, "One of my favorite things about you."

He smiles and tucks your hair behind your ear, "You.. are my favorite thing about me."

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thanks for reading! I love you all so much! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #Sam Golbach #no longer friends #Reuploaded #sam Golbach x reader smut #Sam Golbach x reader #Sam Golbach smut #sam golbach fanfic #dirty sam golbach one shot #sam golbach x you

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ot3 · 2 months

Note

Hey! The link to your FAQ wasn't working for me so I don't know if this question has been asked before. I really appreciate your perspectives on AI art. Do you happen to have any resources that you read/listened to on intellectual property rights and the issues with it? I just don't really know where to start with it.

[heres where i cut out a big paragraph of me, once again, bitching about how blog pages don't work on the tumblr app and i think that's fucking stupid]

anyway i dont have any generalized sources on the subject but the tl;dr of it is: intellectual property rights exclusively benefit people who have the resources to pursue sustained litigation. 99% of the time, what IP law is being used for is to reinforce corporate ownership of work that was done by their employees.

the whole disco elysium debacle is a great case study.

The shareholders of ZA/UM accused the trio of, among other things, intending to steal intellectual property (IP) from the company — a curious accusation, considering that the world of the game is based off of a novel written by Kurvitz himself. The case of Disco Elysium illustrates the shortcomings of IP rights as protection for artists. Consequently, it contains a lot of lessons for the labor movement when it comes to the arts, and serves as a reminder that creative workers are, at the end of the day, workers. But this is not just an academic exercise. It’s a human story about the intimate consequences of capitalist exploitation. “I got my soul ripped out of me,” Kurvitz told me over Zoom in April of 2023. “I got my skull cracked open and my brain lifted out of it by a fifty-five-year-old financial criminal.”

another example: alex norris of webcomic name, which you will probably recognize when you see it, has been raising hundreds of thousands of dollars over the past several years to try and keep up with the protracted legal battle over maintaining ownership of his own work.

I have been fighting this case since 2019. It arose out of an agreement to make a boardgame based on my webcomic in 2017 but the publishing company has used this as an opportunity to take all of my intellectual property, and has even claimed ownership of Webcomic Name as a whole. I can't go into more detail here, but the details of the case are publicly available to read online.

Then, in a 2024 update:

I have essentially won the main case based on the decisions made last summer. The Judge has clearly stated that I own my comics, and that the other party has infringed on my copyright. It is not over yet, as there are still a few things that need to happen. Hopefully things will all be wrapped up this year. After 6 years of legal battling, I can’t wait to be free of all of this. Hopefully, this second case will backfire, and they will be sanctioned for filing it. But to get to that point requires a frustratingly large amount of work, time and money.

An interesting thing about both of these two specific instances is that they involve creators who had entire bodies of work produced around the specific IPs that were stolen from them before they even began partnering with corporate entities to produce works. which is insane! you can spend years writing novels, drawing comics, and if a company comes in with enough lawyers they can own those ideas.

this is pretty distinctly different to me than instances of work you do while being employed by a corporate entity being owned by that corporate entity, because at least you know what you're getting into there to some degree, but i still think that's bad too. consider stuff like the owl house and gravity falls, two disney shows made by people who very very clearly did not like working for disney. disney owns their ideas, their characters, their worlds, because that's the price you pay for having an animated show produced.

essentially it's very very clear upon even the slightest examination that intellectual property in no way exists to codify who the creator responsible for specific creative concepts or works is. it exists to turn nebulous things like 'ideas' into market commodities, and to funnel the profits made by the labor of individual artists and writers into corporate bank accounts.

the only person who has ever really benefited from IP law as an individual trying to lay claim to their own work is ken penders, who notoriously won his suit to have ownership of characters and storylines he created. heartbreaking: Worst Person You Know Gets An Unequivocally Deserved Legal W.

The comics continued under Flynn’s direction as if nothing happened, but things started looking grim in late 2012, when Archie suddenly fired its entire legal team. The company had been unable to produce Penders’ work-for-hire contract, which would have given control of his creations to Sega. Penders claimed the contract had never existed. A heavily circulated Tumblr post outlining the case (which has been corroborated as a reliable source by Penders) explains that while Archie did provide a photocopy of a contract allegedly signed by Penders in 1996, Penders claimed that the document was a forgery. That it was neither an original copy nor a contract from the beginning of the writer’s tenure at Archie meant that its validity was questionable. Making things worse, Archie couldn’t produce an original copy of any previous contributor’s contract, meaning that any writer or artist who had worked on the Archie Sonic line could potentially follow in Penders’s footsteps and reclaim their work. “So are you saying prior counsel blew it?” the presiding judge asked Archie counsel Joshua Paul in a May 2013 court session. His reply was unequivocal: “Absolutely, your Honor.”

So yeah. Owning the work you do as an artist is only something that happens when the people trying to profit off of it show unprecedented and staggering level of incompetence in their legal teams.

Then, alongside not owning the concepts and ideas you produce while working with corporate entities, there's the issue of NDA regarding specific pieces you've produced. This causes a LOT of trouble for freelance illustrators/character designers/concept artists, etc. Looking for work is very hard when the past three years of pieces you've drawn can't be added to your portfolio. Some people have password protected pages on their portfolios that they use for NDA work, but I believe the right to do this varies depending on your contract. I'm not 100% sure. In cases where the project you worked on eventually comes out, that's one thing, but there will be instances where the entire project gets canned after all the work is done, but is still under NDA so essentially all of your work has been taken from you, crumpled up into a ball by a studio executive, thrown in the trash can, and legally you are not allowed to go pick it out of the bin and try and flatten it out again.

This has all been pretty art-focused because that's the kind of circles I run in and where a lot of my interests lie but the truth is none of this is even remotely close to as evil IP law gets. I've saved the most egregious for last: The Lakota Language Consortium

The Lakota Language Consortium had promised to preserve the tribe’s native language and had spent years gathering recordings of elders, including Taken Alive’s grandmother, to create a new, standardized Lakota dictionary and textbooks. But when Taken Alive, 35, asked for copies, he was shocked to learn that the consortium, run by a white man, had copyrighted the language materials, which were based on generations of Lakota tradition. The traditional knowledge gathered from the tribe was now being sold back to it in the form of textbooks.

When you're in defense of IP law, this is what you're siding with. This is the rational endpoint of IP and it is neither a fluke nor an example of the concept being twisted against its original design. Art, culture, language, it belongs to whoever is most capable of turning it into a product. The economic incentives of producing and distributing arts and culture demand this is how things be.

Meya says his work is a vital tool in preserving the Lakota language, which did not previously have a standardized written form. He estimated that there are fewer than 1,500 fluent Lakota speakers left and that over the last decade and a half, the organization has helped add 50 to 100 more. “Just because money is involved in it does not inherently make it an evil thing,” Meya said in a recent interview with NBC News. Most of the products his organizations make are free, he said, but the cost of printing textbooks has to come from somewhere. “That tends to be sometimes part of the rhetoric, ‘Oh, there’s money involved. It must be, you know, part of the overall colonization effort.’ Well, you know, that’s just not realistic.”

Artists looking to force their way into the class of people who gets protected by these laws are not looking out for their community. They are not protecting anything but their own perceived financial interests. Intellectual property will never, ever benefit the most marginalized members of creative communities and anyone who tries to convince you otherwise is huffing some serious copium.

Frankly, I don't believe anyone can or should 'own' things like Ideas or Specific Aesthetic Flairs. But even if you do believe in that, IP law isn't the framework for handling it.

#long post #i guess i should tag this so i can find it again if i ever get asked something else like this #ip law #intellectual property

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hedgehog-moss · 10 months

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Loved your mentioning of learning poetry by heart: this is something I haven’t done since school! What are some of your favs that you’d suggest to ease my brain back into it?

(Française ici donc les options 🇫🇷 autant que anglais sont welcome :) merci!)

Hi :) You can look at the poem tag of my quote blog if you want—some of the ones I've learnt by heart (or excerpts from them) include this one by Sara Teasdale - Nanao Sakaki - Velimir Khlebnikov - Wallace Stevens - Rabindranath Tagore - Archibald Macleish - Howard Nemerov - and these paragraphs by Henri Peña-Ruiz which I consider prose poetry... My favourite French verses (from Corneille, Aragon, Anna de Noailles, Hugo, Valéry...) are all alexandrines and I find it to be the easiest type of verse to remember, as the structure is so rigorous and consistent. I sometimes translate English poems into alexandrines (like this one) to make them easier to learn in this more familiar form—I think even after all this time English prosody still feels foreign to me; the patterns of sound and rhythm in French are more deeply embedded in my brain so it can more easily predict what comes next...

Re: easing your brain into it, I guess that depends on your style of learning? For me the best way to learn a text is to spend time with it in written form, be it by translating it, or by writing it down by hand (slowly) and then (sometimes) keeping it for a while in a place where I often stand idle, like taped to my microwave so I re-read it as I wait 1 minute for something to heat up.

One thing I like about learning poems is that it's a costless, always-accessible way to get a sense of personal accomplishment. Beyond that, I've got three categories of poems I like to learn for different reasons—I'll go into some detail in case it can help you figure out what you're after :)

1. Classic poetry, because it's just fun to have little snippets of ancient tragedies or epic Victor Hugo poems living at the back of your mind and accompanying you through your own everyday tragedies—as an overdramatic person who tends to feel devastated or exasperated over tiny stuff, it helps me to take some distance from my feelings. Like if I spill a bucket of manure on my boots and my first reaction is rage and despair and my second thought is a couple of verses by Euripides where Iphigenia bemoans her relentless fate, it's a way to make fun of (and get over) myself.

My grandmother did this a lot, she knew so many poems by heart and often used them ironically. If I went whining to her when I was little she'd recite to me the last few verses of Alfred de Vigny's La Mort du Loup (it sounds better in the original but):

[...] With all your being you must strive To that highest degree of stoic pride [...] Weeping or praying—all this is in vain. You must instead shoulder your long and heavy task In the way that Destiny has seen fit to ask Then suffer and die without complaint.

(Let me tell you, that's just what a five-year-old wants to hear after scratching her knee at the park) But really I admired this treasury of poetry she carried within her, especially as she only went to school until age 14 and came upon most of it thanks to her own curiosity; as well as the way she used it playfully in everyday life, using dramatic classical verse to de-dramatise minor annoyances.

2. Nature poems are great in the opposite way, to magnify minor positive things :) Like seeing a fox and having a few lines by Mary Oliver come to mind, seeing a frog and thinking of that Basho haiku... I recently discovered Jean-Michel Maulpoix and I also love his nature poems, like 'The recovery of blue after a downpour', the way he describes snow melting in the spring, or golden-blue evenings:

[Snow] takes some time to leave, but delicately. She doesn’t insist, hardly persists, never roots… She gives way. No one else dies so merrily With such good humour Unmatched is her disdain for eternity…

L’azur, certains soirs, a des soins de vieil or. Le paysage est une icône. Il semble qu’au soleil couchant, le ciel qui se craquelle se reprenne un instant à croire à son bleu.

3. And then there are the poems that proudly serve no purpose. <3 I mean beyond distilling language in a beautiful way. No deep meaning—or no meaning at all, e.g. surrealist poetry. I learnt this passage from Les Champs magnétiques back in middle school:

La fenêtre creusée dans notre chair s'ouvre sur notre cœur. On y voit un immense lac où viennent se poser à midi des libellules mordorées et odorantes comme des pivoines. Quel est ce grand arbre où les animaux vont se regarder ? Il y a des siècles que nous lui versons à boire. . . Prisonniers des gouttes d'eau, nous ne sommes que des animaux perpétuels. . . Nous ne savons plus rien des astres morts ; nous regardons les visages. . . Quelquefois, le vent nous entoure de ses grandes mains froides et nous attache aux arbres découpés par le soleil.

—and I've often recited it to myself just to enjoy these gratuitously nice sentences that aren't here to deliver information. Like Kay Ryan said, "Poetry makes nothing happen. That's the relief of it." It's a nice break, a way to remember that communicating isn't all language is for; beyond the social dimension there's also an intimate one that relies on our own aesthetic sensitivity. Most of the time we look through language, to access ideas, meanwhile enjoying poetry means looking at language, for a change, appreciating it for itself.

I just realised I'm paraphrasing John Brehm here—in The Poetry of Impermanence he wrote something that can be read as an ode to learning things by heart:

When you read lines that seem especially lit up—that move or intrigue you in some way, or that are simply pleasing or even dazzling—don’t focus on being able to formulate a statement about what they might mean, as if you might be called upon to explain the poem, to yourself or to someone else. Just linger with those poems or passages that resonate with you. . . Rest your mind on them; let them live inside you.

#ask #poetry

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dwindlinghaze · 1 year

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Hello! Soo I was wondering if I could request a RemusxReader oneshot/blurb with this scenario. Hear me out:

Reader openly talking to the girls about her crush on Remus she as had for years and just being so casual talking about how much she likes him and thinks he's amazing and hot, and how much she loves him (practically me simping for Rem) and she isn't embarrassed cuz she's known Lily and Marlene for years and they're used to talk like that and tease each other kindly (they usually do it to Lily). But they don't know that Remus and the boys are "accidentally" listening to their conversation.

Lmk what you think! Thankyou ly, byebye <3

moon river

(remus lupin x reader)

contents : fluff, the marauders being nosy af and eavesdropping, bad writing and not proofread :(

a/n : hello anon!!! ty so so much for the request and im so so sorry for taking so long in writing it. but hey i am here and im at your service ;) i rly hope u like this and it fulfilled what you asked for ☁️☁️

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"[y/n] are you free tonight? or does loverboy has to take you away before midnight?" marlene said, linking your arms together as you two walked inside the common room.

"yes... why?"

"charms."

"charms?"

"assignment."

"oh-"

"yes."

"charms assignment that you need me to help you with?"

"obviously,"

"ah fine," you eyes slowly averted to the smile of none other that remus lupin. your mind goes fuzzy all of a sudden. he was joking and laughing with james in front of the fireplace. "he looks so happy today," you whispered to yourself, smiling.

"aww, you care about his happiness! just make out already," marlene said, wiggling her thick brows.

"that's one step beyond. not ethical," you shook your head in a mocking manner. "where's lily by the way? is she up here already?"

marlene shrugged as she opened the door to the dormitory, letting the warm air hit both of their faces.

later that night, you were helping marlene out on the charms essay and let's just say... it wasn't going as planned.

"marl, it's not how it is. you have to read the whole thing first then make your own summary about it so professor flitwick won't accuse you of plagiarism."

"but there's too many! why isn't there a charms to shorten paragraphs," she whined like a child on the sidewalk when their moms didn't get ice cream.

"liliana, help me over here. marl doesn't want to read,"

"i doing my eye mask, can't stand up," she reasoned stupidly.

"eye masks stick to your under eyes. yes you can stand up without them falling off. i wish remus was here, he can probably summarise four pages in just two minutes, he's incredibly smart," you closed your little tired eyes.

"if remus was here, he wont be teaching me anything, he would be too busy with you," marlene scoffed, although she is teasing.

"that's right," lily agreed. "remember this morning when [y/n] dropped mashed potatoes on his head? he didn't even blame her! he was blushing."

"also in dada, didn't you see remus was basically mumbling a mantra to be partnered up with [y/n], that's so sweet," marlene continued in a teasing voice, her charms assignment completely tossed of to the side.

you think to yourself, a conversation about remus late at night is way more interesting than charms. so you didn't budge. "aw yea he did, i saw," you cheeks turned crimson as you smile.

"isn't he just so... beautiful? i never look at anyone- except for my barbie dolls when i was five- this way. he is just right in every way."

"mhmmm keep going my love," marlene replied, after noticing a slight crack in the door with the marauders behind it. they were appalled when marlene saw them but marlene stays quiet, sending a wink their way.

at first, they were up here because james wanted to return lily's hair clip in which the boy slyly stole during class for this moment. but the others insisted to go up to see her reaction for some reason.

remus wouldn't complain though. he got to hear what the girl he loves for so much has to say bout him when he's not around.

your back was facing the door with your legs crossed over your chest and you hugging them. "his face may be pretty, but i think his heart is way prettier. for god's sake he holds my hand when i was anxious for that history presentation! he knows my needs so well."

"yes, that's so kind of him," lily urged for you to continue so she can tease you about it the next morning in front of remus lupin.

"and the best part is, remus respects women! he treats me like how i treat the girls and women around me. that's the hottest thing a guy could ever do," you dazed out, burying your face in between your kneecaps.

"ugh we love a respectful king, don't we girls!" marlene said purposely loud so remus can hear the conversation wide and clear from the door. his eyes were basically making heart eyes at the back of your head, his smile is like he had just won a contest and to hide that would be so dishonest.

"i told you to get her on a date sooner, she is the one!" sirius nudged remus rather harshly, but he was too focused on you.

"but what i don't like about him is the fact that he thinks he's not worthy of anything. he is. he deserves the biggest apology and happiness there ever was. he is like a moon river. i would roll my ship at night just to see the sparkles that he got. my huckleberry friend."

"isn't that enough to confirm that [y/n] loves you back, remus?" marlene shouted, her vision straight to the door.

your eyes widened in panic as your blood rushed into your cheeks. was remus hearing all of this? oh no freaking way- he can't be!

the door swung open, revealing the marauders who were standing with their jaws on the floor.

"i'm going out," lily spoke up, slipping out the door with james running after her like a lost puppy.

"you better do something," marlene winked at remus as she pushed him inside the room. remus nodded numbly, processing on what just happened. marlene was already dragging sirius down to give their friends privacy.

"hey, can i come in?"

"gosh i'm so sorry you heard all of that! you don't understand how embarrassing it is for me right now. i wish to disappear!" you scrunched your face, mortified by what his reactions may be.

"listen, uh, what you said were- it really makes me happy that you think of me that way because... so do i! i've been scared to say anything because i just- wasn't sure if you like me that way or not..."

"well, you heard it... what am i going to do now," you whispered the last part under your breath.

lucky for remus, he's got super hearing powers due to his lycanthropy so he heard that as clear as the sky is blue. "we can do what girlfriend and boyfriend do," remus answered shyly, playing with the end of your blanket that dropped from your bed.

"excuse me ma'am, you haven't asked me for dinner yet and now we're girlfriend and boyfriend?" you said in a joking manner to ease the tension out.

"okay let's do baby steps. come here, m'love, want to hold my girl," he opened his arms with his eyes closed. does he even know how cute he is right now?

#x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin fic

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frangipani-wanderlust · 8 months

Text

How To Call 911

So most of my followers know now that I started working last May as a 911 dispatcher. Super proud of myself. And now that I am starting (very much still starting) to settle in a bit, I want to offer some tips on how to call 911. So, hold on to your hats.

(no-color version if the yellow text isn't rendering on your screen correctly)

When in doubt, call 911. Don't take this as me encouraging you to jump at shadows. Your neighbors' loud party is not an emergency, google the local non-emergency line and call that. Neither is the dry cleaning not giving you your clothes (I actually got this call on our 911 line). Nor is the fact that you saw a fox inside city limits (also something a real human called 911 about). But if you see a situation unfolding and you think "this seems dangerous, maybe this is 911-worthy" then it's 911-worthy. Don't hesitate. Call.

If you call 911 and you are freaking out, that's okay. If you're in a crisis, you may not remember a single tip I'm about to give you. We are trained for that, we can handle it, just do the best you can. It's not the end of the world to have a hysterical or frightened caller, and these are tips, not rules.

Location, location, location. We can't send you help if we have nowhere to send it to. Ideally, know the address. Failing that, know the name of a business or a church or an intersection. It is not cheating if you read this off a sign. There isn't a set of invisible rules that says you have to have your exact GPS coordinates memorized. Be prepared to describe the location somehow. That way, if our connection drops and that's all you can tell me, I can still send some police out to come find out what's going on and they can ask for medics or firefighters or whatever if needed. But we absolutely must know where to send assistance, it is the first thing we're going to ask.

Location again, but with a twist. The first thing our office says for emergencies is, "911, what is the address of the emergency?" If a building is on fire, tell us where the fire is. If your neighbors are being robbed at gunpoint across the street, give us their address. If you witnessed a car accident, tell us where the accident happened. The location of the emergency isn't necessarily the location where you are. Don't send police and fire to your office building if the wreck is on the freeway.

Answer the questions that you are asked. If the calltaker asks "Is the patient breathing?" don't start in about the seizure they just had (if they aren't breathing, the seizure they just had is not the biggest problem). If the calltaker asks, "Which way did the man you saw go when they ran?" don't tell them about how they broke down your door (if they are running away, knowing they broke your door down does not help the police know which direction to start looking). The particular question you are asked is being asked for a reason, and that reason is not frivolous but in an emergency, we aren't going to stop and explain everything.

Do not launch into a speech. If you're asked a yes/no question, yes or no is all the answer you should give. Your impulse will be to explain the yes or the no because more information is better than not enough, but overexplaining is its own problem. Now, we are hired for good typist skills, and are encouraged to get better and faster, but infodumping means things can get missed. The calltaker is going to have some information they're going to ask for by protocol and probably the option to drill down on some of it if clarification is needed. If you spend five paragraphs explaining your last answer, it delays getting other pertinent information.

Do not launch into a speech, part the second. You don't call 911 for things that happened last week, or even yesterday. Tell me the emergency that is happening right now. Ideally in one sentence. If someone is having a medical issue, and you call 911 about it, when the calltaker asks exactly what happened, do not tell them about how the patient had a surgery 5-and-a-half weeks ago. You called 911. What is the emergency that is happening right now. Don't be telling me about their surgery when the problem you called about is a broken leg. Yes, the surgery may have led to generalized loss of balance that has yet to return which caused the patient to fall which caused them to break their leg. Understood. But you didn't call because of all of that. You called because of the broken leg. Apply this principle to all emergencies.

Don't launch into a speech, part the third. When asked a specific and direct question, do not give an explanation instead of an answer. If the calltaker asks you "Is the weird person on the side of the road actually in the lanes of traffic?" do not explain to them how it's a very narrow roadway (see parenthesis for the story here). Aside from the fact that we're not asking these questions to be funny (see part the second), there's also the fact that now you are coming over as suspicious as hell. If I asked "how did that person on Facebook know what this supposedly missing kid is wearing and where he's going to be at 3:00 today?" and you say "well Facebook is a good way to spread information" I am now extremely suspicious of you.

(Also an actual call I have taken. The man was a totally ordinary guy out for a walk to the store, but this blue collar man walked through a Rich Person Neighborhood™ and according to Lady Catherine De Bourgh on the phone with me, that merited a call to the police. When I asked her if he was actually in the lanes of traffic [traffic hazard call type] versus not [suspicious person call type, on a technicality but technically...], she tried explaining three times that the road was narrow before she finally got the message that I was not going to stop asking until she told me the actual answer and answered "Well, I suppose so, yes." At this point, because she'd been so reluctant to answer me, I no longer believed the man actually was in the lanes of traffic and to this day believe that she lied to try and manipulate the police into a stronger-level response than was actually warranted. Because determining whether she was lying for sure is beyond the scope of my job, I put down what she said, but I didn't believe then and still don't believe now, that she told the truth. The totally ordinary and probably very nice guy was not arrested or hassled at all and was instead given a courtesy ride to the store.)

Be prepared to describe relevant people, maybe including yourself, and that includes race. If you have an asthma attack at a football game, the medics need to know how to find you in a crowd. If you are a black woman, that's gonna rule out everyone who isn't that. If you are a black woman wearing a yellow shirt, blue jeans, and a blue bandana over your hair, that excludes nearly everybody and when the medics arrive, they'll know exactly who to look for. Most of the time, someone's race isn't relevant information. When describing someone to emergency services, it absolutely is and it is not racist to accurately describe the relevant person or people.

There are more tips in the world, and I may come back to this post and add them as they occur to me. In the meantime, please enjoy this short treatise on how to call 911.

#actual 911 #emergency services #tricks and tips #resources #how to call 911 #yellow color chosen because dispatchers are gold #no seriously #emergency services have star trek style color coding #and dispatchers are gold #lol

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valkyrie1435atla · 11 days

Text

@hannahhook7744 this was going to be another reply but it started getting too long, so here’s a bit of an explanation on Zuko’s situation.

I can’t always know if what I’m trying to portray in my comic gets across how I want it to, that’s a drawback of the comic format, I’m generally not able to include long, detailed paragraphs unless it’s in a format that makes sense in the context of the comic. (Yishengs Logbook for example.)

-SPOILERS(?) FOR PARTS 14, 17. OR NOT REALLY SPOILERS, JUST PLAIN EXPLANATIONS OF WHAT HAPPENED TO CLEAR ANY CONFUSION-

in Mortem Obire, we see a play-by-play of Zuko’s death and his time traveling from his own perspective, in his head. ‘Mortem Obire’ means ‘to face death,’ this is Zuko processing what happened to him. Azula’s lightning struck him, pain, blinding pain, and then it all stopped, and he was back on his ship. He is still reeling, though, every sensation is suddenly opposite, “it was loud, and it was burning-“ in a millisecond his whole world flipped upside down. “And suddenly it was quiet, and I was cold” Zuko is so disoriented from the switch he immediately collapses, slams head-first on the hard ship deck, and is sent back to the future. “And it was loud again, and I was burning again” He becomes stuck in this sort of in-between state, like a light switch you’re trying to balance in the middle, flickering on and off. “Someone called my name” Katara calls his name, Iroh calls his name. “I saw a pillar of light in the sky-I saw a comets trail in the sky” he sees both. “You ran to me” Katara ran to him, Iroh ran to him.

Iroh was holding him; he laid alone, bleeding out.

Iroh pulled him away, Zuko began to lose consciousness; he burned while watching Azula kill Katara.

He laid there in his dead, rotting body; he laid in a body that wasn’t his.

It all happens in Zukos head, though. In the present moment Iroh just asked him, “and then?” Zuko replies, “and then…” (Part 13) then falls silent for about 30 seconds. Iroh just stares at him, waiting for an answer. The flashback plays in Zukos mind, he starts to tremble and hyperventilate, Iroh calls out his name but Zuko cannot hear him. “Prince Zuko, can you hear me?!” The flashback ends and Zuko is pulled back to the present. etc. etc.

A Thankless Job is YiShengs (and partially Iroh’s) perspective of Zuko’s death and time traveling. (Obviously they don’t know that he died, they don’t know that he time traveled.) season one Zuko collapsed suddenly and for literally no reason at all, (they didn’t see the beam of light, there was no beam of light.) YiSheng and Iroh took him to his room, and he started seizing (“A seizure is abnormal electrical activity in [the] brain” (the Cleveland Clinic)). He was sort of awake for a few seconds at a time, YiSheng medicated him in a moment he could actually swallow, and then Zuko passed out completely. Iroh stayed by his side. It is important to note that there was no injury at first, and Zuko woke up a few hours later. Parts three, four, and five happen, Zuko has a brief conversation with Iroh, he still isn’t completely aware of the time travel, everything is very hazy. Iroh leaves, and the haze begins to clear. The lightning creeps back in, the scar starts to reappear on his chest and it grows and it burns and Zuko is burning burning fire fire I am melting from the inside I am dying. etc. etc.

In the revised version I am currently working on, remaking the first chunk of the story so far, these details (and many more) will all be displayed much more clearly. We will see Iroh’s complete perspective of the collapse first, followed by Zuko’s and Yisheng’s as has already been written. A short interlude of Jee’s perspective next?

Basically, Zukos injury carried over because he didn’t stay in the past when he first got blasted there. Everyone else in the gaang flipped once and that was that, the injuries that killed them stayed with the past timeline. Zuko’s did not. Just his luck, really.

#atla #if this is a dream au #avatar the last airbender #original comic #fan comic #if this is a dream don’t wake me #support artists #explanation #sort of spoilers?

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way2gowillow · 16 days

Text

Toshinori couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. He knew exactly how high Midoriya’s academic standards were. The memory of being buried in challenging schoolwork himself wasn’t a fond one, and he didn’t envy the poor boy at all.

“I’ve got 36 pages left. Then I’ll eat,” Izuku muttered, his voice tinged with determination but also fatigue. Toshinori furrowed his brow in concern.

“That… that might take quite a while, don’t you think?” he ventured gently.

Izuku sighed deeply, his frustration evident as he let his head fall onto the desk with a thud of resignation.

Dadmight week has ended officially, but I managed to squeak out one last submission before the deadline. :') wish I could've submitted more honestly, if I had more time. @dadmightweek

Day 2: Homework/Take a Break

Midoriya flipped through his assigned reading for what felt like the umpteenth time. He’d been buried in the book since 4 p.m., and his weary eyes drifted to the clock on his desk—8 p.m. He’d endured much longer study sessions before, but this particular assignment seemed to drag on endlessly. The book, Hero's Jurisdiction and Quirk Responsibility, wasn’t exactly riveting, and Snipe’s assignment to read chapters 3 and 4 had turned into a tedious slog when he realized he was falling behind.

Only thirty… no, thirty-five… wait, thirty-seven pages left. He sighed, his tired eyes struggling to focus on the dense text. The letters blurred together as he tried to absorb each new piece of information, but the words felt heavy and lifeless, his mind drifting as he mechanically read on.

“As discussed in chapter 2, Amendment 47 faced significant challenges in passing through the judicial system, with numerous quirk users staunchly defending their right to obtain licenses. The rejection of Amendment 23 and its subsequent impact on…”

Izuku’s eyes glazed over as he read the dry, lifeless text. He flipped through the remaining pages, his hope dwindling as he counted them. Thirty-six and a half more to go.

He sighed in frustration, the words on the page blurring together, lost in a storm of paralegal jargon swirling in his tired mind. Footsteps echoed from the hallway, but he didn’t bother to check. He’d left his door open for a bit of fresh air, though even that seemed to do little to revive his focus. He was usually good at tuning out distractions, but now his eyes were so dry, he was half-tempted to ask Aizawa for his special eye drops.

Come on. Just thirty-six more pages.

He forced himself to read another paragraph, but his mind refused to stay focused.

What did I just read?

Shaking his head, he tried again, managing to get a bit farther before the dense terminology tripped him up again. His thoughts drifted, and by the time he reached the end of the page, he realized he hadn’t absorbed a single word.

What??

With a frustrated groan, he let his highlighter slip from his fingers and dropped his head onto the desk in defeat.

“At this rate, Kaminari’s gonna have to shock me back to life after I die of boredom,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the wood.

A familiar, warm chuckle from the doorway made him lift his head, turning toward the sound.

His mentor stood there, casually leaning against the doorframe in house slippers and sweatpants, his eyes filled with amused sympathy.

“Bored to death, huh?” he echoed with a smile. Izuku perked up at the sight of him, grateful for the distraction from the tedious assignment.

“Hey, All Might,” Izuku greeted, doing his best to muster up his usual chipper tone. “Didn’t notice you there.”

“Well, the other boys mentioned you didn’t come down for dinner, so I thought I’d check on you,” All Might replied with a teasing smile. “I could hear the gears in your head grinding from the common room.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I must’ve lost track of time,” Izuku admitted, turning back to his book. He picked up his highlighter and dragged it half-heartedly across a few words. Stress practically radiated off him in waves, and he scratched his head in frustration.

“I’ve got 36 pages left. Then I’ll eat,” Izuku muttered, his voice tinged with determination but also fatigue. Toshinori furrowed his brow in concern.

“That… that might take quite a while, don’t you think?” he ventured gently.

Izuku sighed deeply, his frustration evident as he let his head fall onto the desk with a thud of resignation.

Toshinori moved closer, laying a gentle, reassuring hand on his shoulder. The boy shifted slightly, his head rolling to the side, green curls spilling over the edge of the desk, obscuring the text beneath.

“Come now,” Toshinori urged softly. “Take a break and have some dinner. You need to take care of yourself before you can tackle your work.”

Izuku stared up at him, eyes wavering as he debated whether to give in to his mentor’s advice; the pull of his stubborn determination warring within.

His stomach answered for him with an embarrassingly loud grumble.

Toshinori raised his eyebrows, a sly smile playing on his lips. He opened his mouth, ready to deliver the final nudge.

“I haven’t eaten yet either. I wanted to wait for you.”

Izuku’s resolve crumbled instantly. With a dramatic sigh, he slammed his textbook shut and rubbed his eyes in mock exasperation. “You can’t do this to me, All Might…!” he protested, his tone light despite his words.

He quickly moved away from his desk, making a beeline for the door. Toshinori chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, as he joined him outside the dorm room.

—

The udon noodles simmering in a miso umami broth were exactly what Midoriya needed. As he took his first bite, the savory flavor of the pork mingling with the rich broth seemed to melt away his lingering headache. With each satisfying slurp, the weight of his stress lifted, replaced by a comforting warmth that spread through his chest. Across from him at the table, All Might quietly enjoyed his own bowl of miso and noodles.

“Wow,” Midoriya exclaimed between bites, his eyes lighting up. “Who made this? It’s amazing!”

All Might’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “Ah, well… thanks,” he replied, a touch of bashfulness in his voice. “I’ve been picking up cooking lately, you know. Figured…” I want to feed you and care of you and sit down and spend time with you- “...with all this extra time on my hands, why not?”

Midoriya sits at his bar chair, his legs swinging, kicking back and forth as he eagerly slurped down another helping of soup.

“Mmmmm!” he hummed in contentment.

So cute.

The thought made Toshinori’s heart swell. If cooking for him was this rewarding, he decided he’d definitely make it a regular thing. Rather than reaching out to pinch his freckled cheeks, he simply smiled into his bowl, savoring the last of the broth.

“Don’t mention it,” Toshinori replied warmly.

With a final, satisfied swallow, Midoriya set his bowl down with a content clink and let out a pleased sigh.

“That was delicious, All Might. You’ve gotta show me how to make this next time. Maybe even my mom could try it?” he suggested, a bit bashful.

Taken aback, Toshinori’s eyes widened in surprise, but a genuine smile spread across his face at the thought.

“Of course! That would be great. I'm sure maybe your mother would rival my cooking.” Toshinori said with a smile.

Izuku stood up, gathering the empty bowls and chopsticks. “Well, it’s a bit hard to beat Mom’s cooking,” he replied, noticing the fleeting wistfulness in Toshinori’s expression. He must miss Master Shimura, he guesses. Izuku couldn't even imagine the heartache of losing his doting and loving mother any time soon. Shaking his head to dispel the somber thought, he finished gently washing the dishes. Once he was done, he dried his hands and approached Toshinori.

With a deep bow, he expressed his gratitude.

“Thank you Sir. I really needed that tonight. Thank you.” He says earnestly.

Somehow Toshinori's eyes go wider, and he doesn't know exactly how to respond at the simple gesture of a homecooked meal for his boy.

Even with his head still bowed, Izuku’s growing smile was evident as he leaned into the comforting touch. The small gesture seemed to rejuvenate him, and he dashed back to his studies with renewed energy, making swift progress compared to his earlier sluggish pace.

With their stomachs and hearts full, both Master and Successor went to bed content, their minds drifting into a peaceful sleep, each wishing sweet dreams across the dreamscape.

#bnha #dadmight #fanfic #dadmightweek2024

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theknightmarket · 6 months

Note

I still think about Chase Me a lot and it.

Hmgh. 🙏

Not a lot of Murdock content that goes into his potential motives.

"You're a special case."

In which Murdock's cat and mouse chase comes to an end. TW: cursing, mention of murder Pages: 16 - Words: 6,500

[Requests: OPEN]

They got him.

They’d trapped him in a corner and wrapped the cuffs around his wrists. He was sitting in a cell, chained to the desk, waiting to be interrogated.

If they hadn’t called you, you would have forced your way into the police department anyway, regulations be damned. But they were smart, or maybe they just remembered the last time you were kept from the end of your case – either way, you had been writing up a very particular, very private report when your phone began to ring. You nearly didn’t answer it, too determined to finish off the last paragraph of the page before someone could interrupt, but it buzzed once, twice, thrice, and then you grabbed the thing and pressed the call button. Your mouth hung open at the half-way point of a cursing out when the officer who called you spurted out the very words that kept ringing through your head like a church bell.

They got him.

They had captured the Serotonin Serial Killer, and he was waiting in interrogation room C to be questioned by a detective. You made the forty-five-minute drive into twenty, flashed your badge at the receptionist, and didn’t say a word to anyone as you dashed through the hallways of the bustling building. Officers pressed themselves against the wall to avoid being barreled into, knowing you were on the warpath just from the look on your face. Though, it was no secret where you were headed. Your little stint with the man of the hour was kept between the two of you, but people had picked up on your sudden determination to solve the cases. When you worked sixteen-hour shifts, whispers took your place in leaving your office building and returning to your apartment. Rumors spread, some nice, some rude, all patents of the news agency; apparently one of his victims was your sister or uncle or second cousin thrice removed, because it gave you a motive and you were obviously the most important in the case to grant one. Never mind the guy slitting the public’s throats, the detective who was doing their job had to have a personal reason.

But your gripes with the press and other detectives were nothing you were focused on; distantly, you heard the taps of your shoes against the clean tiles towards the room, the times new-roman C blazing against the white wallpaper outside of a locked door.

You opened it without a second thought.

“It’s you.”

“You sound surprised, sweetheart.”

Murdock sat there, as you expected, chained, as you expected, grinning from ear to ear, as you expected. You imagined he was the first to be smiling so wide in the cold steel of a police chair, bound to the table in front of him. He was still adorned in his usual outfit, a red turtleneck and black trench coat, with blood splatters barely noticeable even in the scrutinous glaring of energy-efficient lights. The only thing that put you ill at ease was the crack in his sunglasses. It brewed a pit in the bottom of your stomach as your thoughts fled to assumptions that only helped to deepen it.

But you didn’t verbalize your suspicions that someone had put a hand on the man before you, the only indication that it crossed your mind being the heightening of your shoulders and an overtaking scowl. Instead, you simply locked the door behind you and dropped into the chair across from him. “You got caught,” you stated bluntly, his eyes following your descent, and it felt wrong to be able to see part of his iris.

“I did,” Murdock admitted. “Well done, you cuffed me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

You couldn’t keep the venom out of your tone, but you didn’t entirely want to. What you wanted to do was find the officer who caught him, ask them how they did it, and then find out exactly how his glasses got shattered so you could repay the favor. You assumed the plan came from your innate distaste of the police force and the rest of the detectives – you relied on the idea so that the thought could pass your mind without worry for the real sentiment behind it. And it almost did.

Murdock, helpfully, brought it back. “Jealous that you’re not the only detective in my life?”

“And if I am?”

“I’d appreciate it.” Damn his charming smile. He leaned forward in his seat, balancing his head on one of his hands, and flashed his grin at you like some kind of reward. It made you tense up, aided by the chill of the metal chair but by no means outweighed by it. You didn’t like this. The uncertainty of your emotions. In your last encounter, you were so certain of your anger towards him and his constant evading of capture, and yet there you were, with the man himself in front of you and definitely captured, fighting a losing battle against your own mind to convince yourself you weren’t swayed by him.

“Good thing I’m not, then.” You ignored the spark in Murdock’s eyes that hinted at his doubt. “How’d you get caught?”

“I killed somebody.” You almost laughed. It wasn’t as though he would be in the same room as you for shoplifting given his track record, but you let him continue without interruption, “Jemimah Pims. Fraud. I got spotted going into her office by a receptionist.”

You knew the name. Pims was big in public service chains that weren’t fast-food; she’d always hated the things, so she pulled a complete 180 and threw herself into high-class wine bars and five-star restaurants. Go figure, she didn’t start those businesses with legal money in her pocket, and that was where Murdock came in. The issue was that you didn’t believe that was his place. You’d seen him take revenge for affairs, prejudiced, miscarriages of justice – not money laundering. And getting a witness?

He must have misinterpreted your skeptical expression, because he followed himself up with, “She’s perfectly fine. Probably clearing up a couple of meetings that are going to go unattended.”

That didn’t help quell your suspicions. Of course, the receptionist was indeed alive, she had been the one to report him, after all, but that wasn’t the part you doubted.

“Let me rephrase that; why’d you get caught?”

You hit the nail on the head. The missing shard of his glasses was enough for you to see his iris, and that was enough for you to see his true feelings. That must have been why he kept them on so much, but they weren’t helping him now. Any excuse he might have made was wiped off the drawing board, and he knew that, too.

Almost reluctantly, he answered, “You’ve been awfully busy lately.”

“You can’t just kill someone because you want attention.” You interrupted a useless continuation that he didn’t even get to start. Of course, you had been busy in recent weeks, but that meant you had enough on your plate already without him piling it sky high.

A few days after your interaction on the roof of the theater, you were handed a case file from the higher-ups. Manila folder, top secret stamp, the whole cliché that made you want to bash your head into your desk. Your actual desk, mind you, the one that had been slightly bloodied by James Pratt. Everything was cleared up relatively fast, the funeral was scheduled for two months’ time, and you were back to work like it had never happened, like there was never a body of a friend draining into the floorboards. That folder, though, pushed it further back into the recesses of your mind; it was a political assassination attempt that you were shocked it landed on your task list. However, it was definitely there, and it was definitely high up on the list, so much so that you barely had time for yourself, let alone the serial killer watching you from another office building’s fourth floor. You supposed that Murdock reached his boiling point quicker than you.

One of your hands leapt to the bridge of your nose while the other ran through your hair. This job was pure stress without a serial killer giving you bodies because he wanted you to look at him.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

He stretched out his hands in an attempt at a shrug, but the cuffs limited how far his dramatics could go. To compensate, he brought his ankles up to cross them over the table. You could already feel the headache brewing, and the incompetence of the cops around you was certainly not helping. Hadn’t they read a single guidebook or, hell, watched a crime movie? It didn’t have to be one of the good ones, either, for them to figure it out that the criminal needed to be chained by the arms and legs to the table. You were so, so close to wringing someone’s neck – whether that was Murdock or the incompetent police. Really, anyone within a twenty-foot radius was at risk.

But you couldn’t, no matter how much your hands itched at the thought. Instead, you took a long, deep breath, in and out and in and out. A pitiful chuckle bubbled up in your throat. “Jealous that you’re not the only serial killer in my life?” you asked, somewhere between sarcastic and genuine.

“Yes.”

Too bad.

“So, what now?” you asked, to which you only got a raised eyebrow in response. “You’re in a police station, Serotonin.” His pout became more noticeable. “How do you plan to get out of this one?”

“Who says I plan to get out of it?”

“You wouldn’t sacrifice your entire career to get some one-on-one time with me. You’re not stupid.”

There was a glint of pride peeking out from the edge of the sunglasses. The rest reflected back onto him, but it was enough for you to see, notice, and feel the rush of blood to your cheeks and ears. Your moral compass told you it was wrong, behind wrong, to be happy with his silent praise, but that thing was long since broken. You wouldn’t trust it to tell you the ethics of kicking a child into the road to stop a wayward fruit cart.

“Hmm, well, as much as I’d like to, you’re right; I can’t just abandon it all for one person, no matter how gorgeous they are.” You had half a mind to find an ice bucket to dunk yourself in. If only to yourself, you would admit you didn’t get complimented often – on your work or otherwise. It wasn’t for a lack of anything, but the general verdict wherever you went was to never initiate conversation unless someone didn’t like the look of their head on their shoulders. It happened often in the detective department, and that was where you spent the majority of your time – the rest was in your apartment, alone and whiling away hours until you got back to work.

But you weren’t allowed to dwell on that depressing thought for much long, before Murdock started talking again, leaning as far back into his chair as the cuffs let him go. “There are moles in the police, sweetheart,” he teased, “you said it yourself. Not one person here can’t be bought or blackmailed. The boys standing outside this two-way mirror, for example.” He turned to smile in the direction of that very mirror. You couldn’t see the officers outside, obviously, but you could imagine them sweating through their blue jackets, not only because they were caught but because Murdock had that look. The one that told whoever he was staring at that this would be their last day, like making eye contact with the grim reaper. Except instead of a bleached skull and hollow pits, he was a beautiful masterpiece come to coax you into the ‘sweet embrace of death’, as the saying went.

“I can taste the corruption from here. It didn’t take long to find out about the affairs and gambling.”

“I thought your whole thing was indiscriminatory vigilante justice. Moles don’t count?”

Vividly, the body of Pratt sprang to your mind. Still warm on the floor of your office. Head turned so that his check was mashed into against the grain. Eyes glassy like a frosted window.

Even though his gaze returned to you, you felt his words pierce the air as knives thrown to the mirror. “Oh, they do. I’ll kill them when I’m done here.”

Murdock was happy with himself. Proud of his work that rewarded him with this scene – two police officers paling from behind a wall, a detective sitting across him wearing a blush and a scowl, and himself haphazardly chained to the table. He wouldn’t have traded it for anything else. He sometimes, on the days when things were, the days when he was positioning old bodies or stalking new ones, when he had time to himself, he wondered what it the outcome would have been had it not been you assigned to his case. He couldn’t imagine the boredom; he didn’t give a damn about the press or the public, whether they were scared of him or in awe. When he first started this whole thing, he hadn’t even cared about the people chasing him, and, mostly, he still didn’t. But then there was you. A grizzled detective with a chip on their shoulder and enough experience with the law to sate thirty juniors. Murdock loved his job, but you made it that little bit more interesting.

Only, he could have done without your next question.

“Do I count?”

His head shifted to stare directly at you, his shattered focus pulled into one place, your expression of curiosity, doubt, a tinge of daring.

You continued, that tell-me-I’m-wrong look overtaking the rest of the emotions, “I let you get away with de Gaille and Lochlin. Doesn’t that make me a killer by association?”

Technically, he supposed it did. After all, he’d killed people for less. However, that wasn’t meant to be your ending. You weren’t supposed to be a pig on a hook in the butcher’s backroom.

“You’re a special case, love.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to help me get out.”

Your immediate thought was to resist. Mouth open to tell him a stern no and legs ready to storm from the room, you were sure Murdock saw, but he didn’t act. He just watched as your shoulders heightened and your grimace deepened. He just watched as you stayed seated, though the discomfort showed.

“Your boys can’t do that?” you asked.

He shook his head. “They’re at the window because two officers have to be. They won’t go near me with a ten-foot pole, or without a foot of concrete between us.” A light chuckle bled into his words, accompanied by the flash of an eye and the corner of his lip perking up. “You, though, have been much, much closer. And you have nothing for me to play on, except for a little bit of affection.”

“Affection, is that what it is?” the scoff escaped you before you processed his words, and it was just as well. You didn’t want a serial killer to know he was – on the most basic level and not even that much and only if you wanted to actually define it and you certainly didn’t – correct. You did feel something for the man sitting before you, leaning casually back in the steel chair of the interrogation room, but you wouldn’t admit it aloud.

“Romantic, sexual, aesthetic, whatever your attraction is. It stops you from letting me fry, as you like to put it.”

“It stops me from letting you die, but that’s where it ends. Locking you up, I’m fine with that.” You were getting faster, pitifully desperate to prove to him, to yourself, to the two officers standing outside that you were not tied to him in any way. You had no reservations about keeping him behind bars. Despite that, it wasn’t the thought at the forefront of your mind – pride and place belonged to the reassurance that it wasn’t that simple. For one second, you assumed that you did enjoy his company and looking at him and his charismatic whisperings that set something aflame in your heart. You still couldn’t abandon everything to run after this maniac. You couldn’t. You couldn’t.

“Are you?”

Were you?

A horrible feeling of dread washed over you, thrown to-and-fro in the rush of the river Styx, your lungs filled with water, and you struggled to keep afloat. It wasn’t that simple. It couldn’t be. There were so many other factors at play. Your life, his life, his job, shit, your job. You were a detective sent to wrap the handcuffs around Murdock’s wrists.

As if he sensed your crumbling façade of calm, he pushed, “You’ll have to pick a side, of course.” You hated to admit it, but the choice would be easy, if you could convince yourself to acknowledge that you did have a choice. Left or right. You didn’t have to consider the nuance of it all, no matter how much you wanted to. The answer your heart made for you blazed in your mind, but trails of fog tried to cover it with questions and consequences.

“Sitting on the fence isn’t an option.” His tone was strangely gentle, like coaxing an injured animal from their hiding place. “If you let me out or if you lug me to a cell yourself, I’ll know where you stand. Hell, I’ll even give you a week to change your mind. But you can’t just leave and wash your hands of it all.”

Responsibility. That was the thing at the crux of his decisions. Who lived and who died all depended on responsibility. The corrupt decided their own sentences when they played both sides off against each other. Police and aristocracy, politicians and the church. The hypocrites were the ones with their necks on the block, and Murdock wielded the axe. He hoped that you would see that, and maybe, if you wanted to, find a handle for yourself.

The distance between the two of you seemed to close. The desk turned to mist. The walls around you felt as though they’d constricted without you noticing.

“Think about it, love.” You didn’t need to think, that was the worst part. “You can go back to your boring job where you aren’t respected or cared about, and you can file reports about a teenager’s accidental arson while the bigger cases are picked off by fat cats who just want the reputation and money.” You didn’t need to be convinced. “Or you can come with me and use justice how it should be used. How you want to use it.”

Heart thundering in your chest so loud you thought it might burst – but then you wouldn’t have to make a decision so maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad – the rest of your body stayed paralyzed with fear. Not of Murdock, of course not, but of the fact that you wanted to go with him. In a split second, you’d made your choice, and you didn’t need his fancy words to encourage it. You weren’t some injured animal, you were a detective who had lost faith in the system, leaving only a struggle with your morals and upbringing to contest with, two things that were fading fast from your mind.

Meanwhile, Murdock struggled with the twitch of his hand that compelled him to comfort you. He had never been a sympathetic person – most murderers weren’t – but he didn’t like this look on you. At least, he liked it much less than the vivid rage you so often sported, particularly when it was for him. This was a distressed look that he didn’t mean to cause. Give him the fireworks and the explosions and the sparks, not the earthquakes that rocked the very place he stood and threatened to knock him off his feet entirely. Deep in his chest, he wanted to exchange that expression for anything else, but he found him options vastly limited by the cuffs. His mouth dropped open, seconds away from offering kind words, but they had done enough.

Luckily, that enough was in the direction that he wanted.

You didn’t speak as you got up from your chair and walked to the door. You lifted your hand but switched courses quickly, aiming not for the handle but for the ring of keys hanging on the wall next to it. One of them would unlock the handcuffs. One of them would set Murdock free and damn you to a life of crime in one movement. You had witnesses, after all, and your own conscience wouldn’t let you be a traitor to either side.

When you were close enough, he reached out to you. A hand caressed down your arm as far as the metal would let him go. His contact sparked against your skin while the clang of the cuffs hitting the table rang out in the room like a church bell. When he was free, he did the most unexpected thing you would ever believe he chose to do.

Murdock wrapped an arm around your waist and shifted the hand that was on your arm around your shoulder. He was surprisingly cozy, like a warm-blooded animal, in the din of the interrogation room. As you stood frozen, half from his action and half from the reality of your own setting in, he tightened his grip and dipped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, words muted by his closeness to you, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind one bit. In fact, slowly, you drew your arms around him, too.

“When we get home, we’re talking about this.”

He pulled back at that, barely enough for you to properly hear his question of, “Home?”

It went unanswered, but he had already gotten a sentence out of you, and that was much more than he could had ever expected. You propped your hands against his chest to subtly move him further from you, eyes cast down and expression downcast.

“Stay here.”

He followed your order easily, considering it was just him standing in the room while you left into the hallway. Both of you knew it would take just one turn of the key to lock him inside, a couple of steps to tell someone that he needed to be locked up as soon as possible, a quick course of action that would relieve you of all your guilt. Murdock wouldn’t hold you to it, because you still chose a side. It just wouldn’t be the one he wanted.

When you returned with a hat and jacket – and, unbeknownst to him, the image of those two officers paralyzed with fear seared into your mind’s eye – he felt his shoulders relax and a pleasant smile take over his lips. Pleasant wasn’t a word often used to describe anything to do with Murdock, but you had a strange way of breaking the norms, and he didn’t mind it one bit. He even let you manipulate his arms like a doll into the flimsy material before you dropped the cap onto his head. It dipped over his forehead slightly, so you adjusted it until you could just see his eyes out of the shadow.

“You don’t say a word until we’re out of this building and into my car,” you ordered, and Murdock thought it best to acquiesce. It was the least he could do after this whole situation that he put you in.

Briefly, he nodded. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He had.

But the next course of action was simple; you left the keys on the hook as you opened the door, unceremoniously shoved Murdock by the shoulder into the hallway, and lead him into the entrance. You had never been more appreciative of the other officers’ reactions to you. Seeing them jump out of your direct path like they’d been set on fire was good for you, if not practically – given you were escorting a serial killer out of the precinct – then emotionally. Nobody tried to look at the man in step by your side, mostly because they were too afraid to cast their gaze anywhere near you. Before, you might have felt disappointed at the reaction, but, if Murdock was right, they were no better than you.

You really hoped he was right.

You made it to your car promptly, and he was soon to round the hood to get into the passenger seat while you swung the driver’s door open. You almost drove off without looking in your back seat, your hand still on the keys in your ignition when you noticed the pile of equipment in the middle of the bench. Duct-tape, zip-ties and lo-and-behold, your original gun. It was as clean as the day Murdock had taken it from you.

Speaking of – you turned to look at the man next to you, who wore the most sheepish expression you would have imagined fit on him.

“Seriously?” you asked.

“I wanted to be prepared in case you put up a fight.”

“You were going to kidnap me?”

“Only for a day or two.” Your eyes narrowed, and he took that as a sign to rush to his own defense. “Just long enough for you to come around. I would never kill you.”

How comforting. It was weird that the thought was half-genuine; you were indeed glad that he had never planned on ending your life.

Sarcastic or not, you muttered a, “thanks,” as you pulled out from your parking space and started the journey home.

Murdock was a surprisingly quiet travelling companion. You expected him to be chatting your ear off about his latest kills, their crimes, their lives, their deaths, etcetera, etcetera. The only thing noise he made, though, was his humming along to the radio’s soft rock. Some instrumental had him tapping his fingers along the window’s edge in its rhythm. If you hadn’t been driving away from a police interrogation, it might have been sweet. And even if you were…

But the magic didn’t last forever. You pulled into your apartment’s parking lot, the three scuffed paint lines amongst those alleyway dumpsters and loose beer cans constituting for one, and you turned off the engine. You didn’t live in a nice part of town, you knew that, and you weren’t ashamed. Sure, you spent most of your time in your office, but that wasn’t because you were embarrassed to live in the building. It was just easier for you, to the point that your apartment was more of a second home, like the grandparents’ that you used to spend every second Wednesday at.

You locked your car door when you were out, then made your way to Murdock’s side.

“This is your place?” he asked, shutting his own door behind him.

“What, you’ve never seen it before?”

“I steered clear of your intimate life.”

The image of the equipment that was still in your backseat had you raising an eyebrow. “Oh, that’s where you draw the line?”

“I didn’t want to rush it.” You didn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, nor did you stop yourself from grabbing Murdock’s hand and tugging him towards the front of the building. From the outside, it looked like your standard run-down-rat-dream, but you’d taken the liberty of sprucing up your own rooms. It lessened the fear in your heart about showing your new partner – in crime.

Said man shot a look down to your hands. “No, I much prefer you doing this out of your own volition.”

The lobby of your building served its purpose. It had a reception table, a door to the breaker box and other things up-keep, and a staircase that led to the rest of the floors. There was only one other door on this level, which was for the owner’s place, but he was either hardly ever there or rotting on his couch, based on how little you saw of him. Another plus was that there were no cameras, but that was only a positive for right now. You would certainly be more worried about smuggling in a murderer had there been sufficient security measures.

So, with the ease of this mission, you took Murdock up to your apartment relatively easily. The other occupants of the building stayed put in their rooms as you went up the steps, before you stopped on the fifth floor. It took a second for you to fish your keys out of your pocket, but, when you had and you’d twisted them into the lock, Murdock let out a little whistle.

You were proud of the work you’d done to fix the place up. When you had first bought it, it was more of a trash dump than a living space – you hadn’t made it three steps without tripping on a bunch of tied up newspapers, which got you into the immediate mindset for clearing it up. The cleaning was over by the first day, the repairs by the third, and the refurbishment by the end of the week. All on your dime, mind you, but you were fine with that. It just meant that if and when you moved out, you would take everything with you.

Now, it was made into an actual home with crimson wallpaper, a plush couch, a bookcase in the corner and, the thing that Murdock took most notice of, an empty fish tank.

You closed the door behind Murdock as he sashayed to the centre of your front room.

“I didn’t see you as a fish owner,” he commented.

“I’m not.” You hung your jacket on the rack beside you. “Never spent enough time here to look after them.”

It was a sad tale you never liked to tell. Three betta fish and two weeks at the office was the most you let slip when people asked.

But, instead of asking, Murdock flopped back onto the cushions behind him and tucked his hands underneath his head. “Cozy.”

You were able to see his closed eyes when you sat on the coffee table. He looked peaceful, if you could ever call him peaceful. For a moment, you thought he might have checked out early and fell asleep.

His voice nearly startled you, but it only made you squint your eyes and cross your arms on your knees. “You wanted to talk,” he prompted.

“What’s the arrangement now?”

“I assume this is a one-bedroom and I don’t like sleeping on the couch.” He opened his eyes only to wink with the one you could see between the cracks of the glass.

You admonished him firmly. “Murdock.” For you, this was a turning point in your entire life. You didn’t believe in that second chance after death – not that you imagined you would get a good one after this – so you needed to make this count.

“There we go,” he whispered, a smug tone made by you finally saying his real name aloud.

As much as you’d like to continue his banter, easier now that you could actually talk to him in the privacy of your own home, you needed to be secure in your thought process. “Am I quitting my job?”

“Yes.” Blunt, but effective. That was better for you. “But you still have a week to mull it over. Not that I think you’ve made the wrong choice—” His hand jumped back to where it had once been in yours, “—You can do more work out here than you ever could as a detective.”

Whether that was true or not, you both believed it. Murdock had since his first kill, and you were steadily getting further and further from the fence.

“So, I’m joining you.”

“If you feel so inclined.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you like.”

“You’re being vague.”

“Sweetheart, this is your life.” As if to punctuate his point, he brought you closer by your hand. Your heart thudded in your chest while the memories from your first one-on-one flooded back. “You can come out stalking with me or go off on your own.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He was right. You assured yourself that, yes, this was your life. And you’d chosen to spend it taking the law into your own hands.

Now, your questions were for the simple act of asking questions. You needed time to process it, and listening to Murdock talk was surprisingly helpful. “Then why pull me off the force?”

“I saw what they were doing with you. You told me. I certainly won’t take credit for your work, and you’re not restrained by paperwork or legalities. I just wanted to open you up to more effective opportunities.” He leaned closer, almost out of his seat. “And, as much as I’ve loved our game of cat and mouse, it’s hard to carry on a relationship when you run the risk of shooting me anytime we meet. Although, I do love the danger. Complicated, isn’t it?”

“Not really.”

When you’d first become a detective, you would have never imagined that your career would end like this. Shot in the line of duty, punched a higher up, retired at a nice, old age to a farm in the countryside. Those were the scenarios you’d thought up all those years ago. And yet, you liked this outcome. It filled you with some kind of excitement when you thought about finally dealing with the other detectives you’d seen. And Murdock, oh, Murdock, he was your favorite part.

That was why you didn’t need any encouragement to dive forward and connect your lips with his. He was immediately receptive to the kiss, using his hand to pull you towards him. All the stress of joining a murderer melted away with the contact. Sparks danced along your skin where he drew his other hand from your arm to your shoulder to your neck. Undoubtably, you were touch-starved, you’d known that for a while, and that made the fire grow quicker than you thought it would. The dance you’d been doing with each other for months was nothing in comparison to the dance of your lips. It was less infuriating for you, and more prideful for Murdock. The little sounds that escaped your mouth as you shifted to get more comfortable gave him a boost to his ego that he really didn’t need. Still, he smiled while you pushed deeper.

This was his prize. You would never admit it, but Murdock knew that you knew that he won. He wasn’t sitting pretty in a cell, he was sitting pretty on your couch, with a view, not of iron bars, but of a gorgeous detective who had practically pledged their life to him. He leaned back just an inch to breath, letting you do the same, in order to get a good look at you.

The breath was worth nothing when you knocked it out of him, anyway. Disheveled was a good look on you.

“I’ve made my choice,” you muttered, “and I don’t intend on going back on it now.” That statement made his heart quicken, more than fleeing any crime scene could ever cause.

His curiosity was piqued when you straightened your back and looked towards the bookcase.

You got to your feet as you said, “Oh, that means I can show you something.”

Murdock watched you rush to where you were looking. You grazed a hand across the dusty surface, eyes skipping through the spines to find the thing you were searching for. When you turned around again, Murdock saw not a book, as he would have guessed, but a manilla folder.

After your rooftop meeting, you had done some research. You used to tell yourself it was to keep tabs on the other detectives, so that you could possibly guess who Murdock would go after first. Now, you admitted that it was just to dig up some dirt.

You fell back next to Murdock on the couch, bringing a foot onto the coffee table. The folder was tossed open in your hands by the weight of the papers inside, and there were a lot of them, each separated with a tab. One name, one last name, was written per tab.

It didn’t take long for him to figure out what this was.

“Oh, I love you,” he sighed as he flipped through some of the documents. It was a dream come true for him. The background check was the most boring part of the process, he much preferred the chase. With you, he had gotten all of his information from talking to you, and he only stayed entertained because it was you. In your hands was the golden ticket to avoid all of that messy business.

Murdock was so happy that you chased him.

“I love you, too,” you replied, bringing a hand up to grab at his jawline. If it were any other moment, he might have teased you, but he was too busy falling in love with you, as if the cat and mouse schtick hadn’t been enough for him already. He was looking forward to getting your claws back.

“So,” he whispered into the minimal gap between you, “Pierce or Vanderbilt first?”

You dropped your head, hitting his lips with a light laugh. It was the first time that you wondered what your life had become in a grateful sense.

[I don't actually think that this was a request, but I also think of Murdock way too much to only have one fic about him. Hence... you get this. I hope you enjoyed <3!]

#theknightmarket #fanfiction #markiplier egos #writing #markiplier egos x reader #markiplier #one shots #x reader #murdock x reader #murdock #iswm #iswm murdock #also guess who just remembered they have an inbox #detective x criminal

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bubblegump-1-nk · 9 months

Text

When You Know You Know

pairing: Theo Nott x female!reader

summary: you and Theo are just best friends…. well that’s at least what you both tell everyone, so, your friends decide to give you two a push

- once again another Theo Nott friends to lovers… are we surprised? But this time there’s no cheating involved so!!!! Also, heavily implied Slytherin reader but never fully said Slytherin reader. Also sorry this is so long but I just didn’t know when it would be a good time to end it and I didn’t want to make multiple parts!!

~~~

You sat in the library staring absently at your potions textbook. You had been rereading the same paragraph for at least five minutes, trying to find the answer for question number 3 on your potions homework. Everything you read seemed to be unable to enter into your head. You leaned back in your chair with an exasperated huff. Theo looked up from his herbology homework to look at you in your annoyed state.

“What’s the problem this time princepessa?” He asked, locking eyes with you as he used the playful nickname he gave you in second year when you refused to do your herbology homework because it required you pulling worms out of dirt. Although, now he used it just so he could have an excuse of calling you a pet name.

You playfully rolled your eyes at the nickname and plopped your chair back on all fours with a loud thump that led Madame Pince to send you a pointed glance.

“I literally have no idea how to do this stupid homework.” You said, putting your head down on your arms that were resting on the table, and turning to look at Theo.

“You should’ve said something, I finished that a while ago.” He informed you, a small smile playing at his lips as he chuckled at your annoyed expression. “Here copy it.” He said, as he leaned down to grab it from his satchel and then handing it to you.

“Merlin you’re a life saver, Teddy.” You said grabbing the paper and immediately beginning to copy it down.

Theo and you had known each other since you were kids, since your parents were best friends. You don’t remember exactly when you started seeing him in a more-than-a-friend way, but what you did know for sure: you had to push down those feelings and pretend like they didn’t exist because Theo didn’t feel the same way about you and you wouldn’t ruin your perfectly perfect friendship over something so silly. Although, of course Theo liked you back, how could he not? You were perfect, but you had no way of knowing this since he also refused to tell you for the same reasons you had.

It was getting late, the candlelight now not enough to properly illuminate your homework. You had finished copying down Theo’s potions work and got about halfway through your Astronomy assignment when you both decided to call it quits and head to bed.

“Well I’d say that’s about the most productive we’ve ever been together.” He says, leaning down to grab your satchel to carry it for you.

“I’m surprised we got any work done at all.” You said, and you both chuckled. “Studying” between the two of you usually ended up in hour long gossip and snacking sessions.

You two walked back to the Slytherin common room, conversing on your way. When you entered through the portrait hole you found your friend group sitting on the plush, green couch by the fire. Enzo, Pansy, Draco, Mattheo, and Blaise all looked up at you two as you made your way towards them.

“Well look who finally decided to show up.” Draco said, grabbing a toffee from the coffee table.

“Sorry that we are intellectuals and actually want to succeed in life, Draco.” You said, sarcastically.

This caused a laugh from the group, and even more so when Draco said, “I wouldn’t call private make out sessions intellectual.”

Both you and Theo’s face flushed red.

“Just because you don’t get any play doesn’t mean you have to fantasize about others.” Said Theo, smacking Draco over the head as he passed him to sit down on the couch next to Enzo.

“So you admit it? You two were making out?” Asked Enzo, trying to pry your feelings out of you two.

“What? No. You lot are insufferable.” You said, plopping down next to Theo, his arm instinctively going to rest behind you on the couch.

“Oh, but you love us.” Said Pansy, making kissing faces.

You gave a sarcastically annoyed grunt which caused chuckles from the group.

“Anyway, what’s the move for this weekend?” Mattheo asks, since Friday was tomorrow and Mattheo couldn’t stand not getting drunk and/or high with his friends at least once on the weekend.

“Oh right!” You said, remembering what someone had told you as you were walking to lunch with Hermione Granger. All heads turned to you expectantly. “Cedric invited me to some Hufflepuff party tomorrow. It starts at 7 and I’m sure it would be no problem getting you guys in.” You said. Theo tensed behind you.

“Cedric? As in Cedric Diggory?” Theo asked, staring at the fire. You uttered a conformation as you reached for one of Draco’s toffees, quickly enough that he didn’t have the chance to snatch it out of your hand.

Theo rolled his eyes, “that guys a prick.” The others gave each other knowing looks that went unnoticed by you and Theo.

“Well then don’t go.” You said simply. The room tensed.

“Well of course I’m gonna go, I was just stating a fact.” He responded.

“A fact? And what proof have you got that Cedric Diggory is a prick?” You asked, eyeing Theo.

There was silence.

“Alright prick or not, I don’t give a fuck. Hufflepuffs have the good weed and I’m gonna get some.” Said Blaise, breaking the silence.

The room lightened, and you all began talking normally again. But that whole conversation was still playing in your head, was it possible Theo had been jealous? No definitely not, just being his usual protective self you decided (spoiler he was actually very jealous).

—-

You and Pansy had said goodnight and went up to your shared dorm about 10 minutes ago. You were now washing your face as Pansy sat on her bed painting her nails.

“So, what’s going on with you and Cedric?” Asked Pansy.

You peeped out from the bathroom, confused at the question. “Me and Cedric?”

“Well, he invited you to a party didn’t he?”

“Oh. I mean, yeah, but we were partnered up for a project in ghoul studies so we’re sorta friends.” You say, dismissing the topic and going back to moisturizing your face.

Pansy scoffed.

“What?” You asked, peeping out again.

“Nothing. It’s just that you have a certain quality of,” she paused thinking of the right word, “Of being oblivious to people’s feelings about you.”

You raised your eyebrows at her, confused as to what she was referring to. “What do you mean?”

“Well Cedric obviously thinks your fit, he wouldn’t just invite anyone in a younger year than him to his party.”

“One time is hardly enough for you to say I’m oblivious of people’s feelings.”

Pansy let out a chuckle. “Well, I forgot to mention the other boy.”

“Huh?” You questioned.

“You know, the one who’s name starts with a T and ends in a heodore.”

Pansy would always bring Theo up to you, and how it was “so obvious he was in love with you”. But you wouldn’t have any of it. He was your best friend, and that’s just how he acted. You had accepted that his love for you was solely platonic, but Pansy hadn’t.

“Pansy please just drop it. You shouldn’t be feeding me delusions.” You say, slightly annoyed.

“I-.” She began, but you quickly cut her off with a tut, letting her know this conversation was over.

—

You made your way towards the Slytherin table for lunch to meet up with your friends. You had had ghoul studies, an elective class, right before lunch so you were happy to see them since none of them were in your same class.

“Good news, Cedric said it was alright if you all came, as long as you brought at least 3 bottles of fire whiskey.” You said, sitting down between Theo and Pansy.

“Thanks, y/n you’re a lifesaver. I don’t know what I would have done if I had to stay in tonight.” Mattheo says.

“Hmm, maybe you could have worked on your alcoholism.” Said Draco, taking a bite of his turkey. Mattheo slapped him on the head as a result for his comment, making him choke on the food. You all broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Here I made you a plate.” Says Theo, handing you a plate full of your favorite foods.

“Ugh, thanks Teddy, you’re the best.” You said, taking the plate and earning a smile from Theo.

Pansy made suggestive eyes at you and you gave her a stern look.

“Oh Teddy won’t you make me a plate?” Mattheo said, jokingly.

“Don’t you fucking call me that.” Theo said, making a face at Mattheo.

“Oh, right! I forgot only precious y/n could call you that.” Said Enzo.

“All of you can stay mad that I’m clearly his best friend.” You say, causing the boys to laugh.

Pansy looked at you again, and this time you returned her gaze. Maybe it was a little suspicious that you were the only one he allowed to call him Teddy.

——

“Y/n you better hurry!” Called Pansy.

You were getting ready for Cedric’s party, but you had overestimated the amount of time you had and now found yourself rushing.

“I’m hurrying.” You called back. Pansy, Theo, and Blaise we’re all waiting for you at the end of the stairs. The other three boys had left earlier, impatient and ready to get drunk.

Another 10 minutes had passed.

“If you don’t get down here in 1 minute, I’m sending up the giant to take you.” Pansy called up, referring to Theo and his 6 foot 3 frame (🤤).

“No! Please don’t send him up here I’m terrified of him.” You joked, running around trying to find some socks.

You were putting on your earrings when you heard Theo’s footsteps, and he soon entered the room.

You yelped when you saw him.

“No, please! Have mercy!” You said, running behind your bed to block him as you tried to finish putting your earrings in.

“Pansy said to show no mercy. Sorry principessa.”

He quickly made his way over to you and before you could react he trapped you and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Theo!” You yelped, gripping onto his shirt.

“This is what happens to late people.” He said, and began carrying you down the stairs.

“Let’s go!” He said cheerily when he reached the bottom of the stairs, still carrying you and not hearing your protests.

“Thanks a lot, Pansy.” You said jokingly, which caused her and Blaise to laugh.

Theo carried you all the way to the Hufflepuff party, which thankfully wasn’t too far since hanging upside down wasn’t your preferred mode of travel.

You four entered quickly after having your names checked at the entrance and found yourself in a room full of people and alcohol.

Theo put you down finally, and opened his mouth to say something when Cedric appeared at your side.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it!” Cedric said, giving you a hug.

“Yeah, thanks for inviting us!” You responded, hugging him back.

“You too, Theo.” Cedric said after you two broke apart from the quick hug.

Theo offered him a straight smile in response.

“Do you want something to drink?” Diggory asked you.

“Yes please.” You said, enthusiastically, ready to start getting some alcohol in your system.

“Here, follow me.” He said, leading you towards a table of drinks.

You looked back at Theo, motioning for him to follow but he just looked at you and mouthed “I’m not going anywhere with that prick” which caused you to giggle. You kept looking towards him to make sure he wasn’t alone, and you finally focused solely on Cedric when he headed for the huddle your friends had created.

—-

“What’s gotten into you?” Mattheo asked as Theo reached them.

“Nothing.” He said bitterly, grabbing a bottle of fire whiskey that stood on the table next to them and took a long swig from it.

“So ever dramatic.” Said Pansy, causing a sound of annoyance from Theo.

“Here have some. It’ll loosen you up.” Said Blaise, passing Theo a joint.

“Thanks mate.”

—-

You were standing with Cedric’s friends, who he had introduced you to, and listening intently to a story Hannah Abbot was telling.

“…and he reached to grab her by the arm to stop her from leaving but Klaus punched him square in the nose before he had the chance!”

The group erupted in gasps and exclamations of disbelief at the story, and the Cedric leaned down to whisper in your ear, “wanna go dance?”

You instinctively looked towards Theo, who you had strategically placed in your line of vision when you went to stand with the group. You saw him sitting next to a blonde, his hand on her thigh, as they chattered away. You heart sank.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You responded, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you towards the mass of moving bodies.

—-

“Yeah, I don’t know, I guess I just like the lake.” The blonde next to Theo said, and he chuckled wryly.

He had seen you with Cedric, laughing, standing close together. He had wanted to go up to you and break you two apart but he advised himself against it. That’s when the girl, Cassandra, initiated conversation with him and he allowed her to stay since being with her would hopefully patch the hole in his heart. It didn’t. He understood though, guys were practically always throwing themselves at you, and with all your options why in Merlin would you choose him? Unfortunately, he didn’t know you thought the exact same of him.

He watched you and Cedric like a hawk, and suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sorry, er, I’ll be right back.” Theo said, standing up and leaving the girl by herself.

He walked past the drink table, grabbing a bottle of fire whiskey, and then made his way to an open window.

——

You had been dancing with Diggory for about 10 minutes, and you had been looking at Theo for about 7 of them. You wished it was Theo you were dancing with, but he was too busy with his blonde (you hadn’t seen him leave her, since you decided it would be better to stop looking their way to stop torturing yourself), but she seemed nice enough and he seemed happy to be with her (spoiler: he wasn’t) so, in return you should be happy for him, right?

——

“What’s your problem?” Pansy asks, coming up to Theo in his little make shift cave.

“Nothing.”

It was silent for a moment.

“Would it possibly have something to do with a certain y/h/c, y/e/c, (your house), girl?” She asked.

Theo looked at Pansy with a deep sadness in his eyes.

“She’s busy with Cedric.”

Another moment of silence.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to be.” Pansy finally replied.

“What?” Theo asked, eyebrows arching.

“Maybe she’d rather be busy with someone else.” She said, hoping he would understand.

“Right, and who might that be?” Theo said angrily, the last thing he wanted to hear right now was not about how you had at least two confirmed men you would pick before him.

“You, you idiot! She’s fucking in love with you!” Pansy blurted out, exhausted with his idiotic attitude.

Theo stared at Pansy, slowly blinking. “What.” He finally asked.

“She’s in love with you. She thinks about you every waking moment. It’s always been you, Theo.” She explained.

Theo stood there, awestruck. This could not be happening right now. This must be some sort of sick joke.

“B-but Cedric.” He managed to babble out.

“She doesn’t fucking like Cedric. She likes you!” She said, pointing to Theo’s chest, hard.

He stood there, once again, just blinking.

“Well? Go get her!” Pansy said.

“R-right!” Theo said, making his way towards you, pushing the bottle into Pansy’s chest to rid himself of it.

“Fucking idiot.” Pansy called after him.

—-

You felt a hand slither around your waist and soon you were turned around, facing Theo.

“Is it true?” He blurted out, before you could get a word out. The music was loud and there were people pressing up against you two and the lights were annoyingly bright but when you looked into his eyes it was only you and him.

“What’s true?” You asked, taken aback.

He didn’t say anything for a second, and in that second your heart dropped. There’s no way Pansy told him how you felt…right?

“What… what you feel towards me. Is it true?”

“I-I.” You were at a loss for words, your jaw opening and closing with no sound coming out.

Suddenly Theo dipped down, his lips crashing onto yours. You didn’t kiss back for a split second because this couldn’t be real could it? The boy you’ve loved for years is here, and he’s kissing you, and he probably loves you back. But you quickly gathered your thoughts, and realized that it was real, and so you kissed back.

The kiss was hungry but gentle, strong and passionate. Your tongues soon began roaming each others mouths, and your hands explored each others bodies. You finally broke apart for air, after what felt like far too short (but was actually a very long time, enough time for all of your friends to notice.)

Theo’s large hands cupped your face, and you placed yours on top of his.

“After all this time…” He said, trailing off as he looked deep into your eyes.

“After all this time.” You responded.

“Merlin we wasted so many days. If only I wasn’t such a git and just told you how I felt.” Theo rambled.

“Better late than never. And now we have so many days ahead.” You responded, happy to finally be with the boy you loved.

“Fucking finally!” Yelled a voice, causing both of you to turn your heads. Enzo.

“Merlin you both are such idiots, it was so obvious!” Said Blaise, you and Theo slowly walked out of the crowd and made your way towards them.

“You all knew?” You asked. Theo was now positioned behind you, his arms around your waist, your hands on his arms. He was kissing your cheeks, your jawline, anywhere.

“Of course we knew! We just thought it would be better to let you two figure it out on your own, but we couldn’t stand to see you both sulking around whenever one of you was with someone else, so we intervened.” Explained Pansy. You gave her a smile.

“Yeah, but I can and will use a time turner to stop us from doing that if we have to see you two being so gross.” Said Draco, making a gagging sound at you and Theo’s pda.

“Shove off, Malfoy.” Theo said, dipping down to kiss you, passionately which earned Theo a plastic cup to the head which Draco had thrown. Theo flipped him off and Draco made a smug face.

“Hey, what’s going on over there?” You said, noticing Mattheo sliding some galleons into Cedric’s hand.

“Y/n, it was actually my pleasure to do this, you’re very lovely.” Cedric said, pocketing his galleons, and quickly leaving after seeing Theo’s killer gaze.

“What?” You called out after him, and then turned to face Mattheo and the group when Diggory walked away without answering your question.

“Well…” Pansy started. You gave her a look that urged her to keep going.

“We realized you two were too pussy to say anything so we decided to pay our little friend Cedric here to make Theo jealous so he would finally admit his feelings to you.” Mattheo responded.

“But for once he was using good morals I didn’t even know he had, and pulled all that ‘I just want her to be happy’ bullshit so we sent Pansy in to rip off the bandaid.” Draco said.

“You lot are making it sound like you were in the middle of a war.” You responded, still grabbing firmly onto Theo’s arms, scared that this was somehow a dream and if you let go he would leave you for good.

“It was war! It was painful to see you two be so heart broken and oblivious all the time.” Pansy said.

“Well, as much as I’m grateful for all of you, I want to go spend some time with my girl. Good night.” Theo said, leading you two out of the common room after you said your good nights.

“Have fun! But not too much fun!” Mattheo hollered out after y’all, and Theo flipped him off.

You two walked in the dark, deserted hallways, hand in hand, hip to hip.

“So, your girl huh?” You asked.

Theo hesitated for a moment, scared he read this all wrong, until he saw the smile playing at your lips.

“Right, I have to ask. Y/n, can I pretty please be your boyfriend.” Theo asked, teasingly.

“Hmm..” you said, pretending to think about it. “Yes.” You said, and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll buy you some flowers and gifts tomorrow, but I came empty handed to this party, as you can see.” He said, causing you to giggle. Your beauty in the moonlight overthrew him, and the fact that he could now call you his, and kiss you whenever he wanted practically sent him into cardiac arrest with how happy he was.

“I love you.” Theo said, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you.” You said, and kissed him on the lips, something that you knew you would never get enough of.

#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #slytherin boys #jealousyfic #theodore nott #theodore nott x y/n #harry potter

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