#ill reach you one day. uh. Maybe.

[faaarawayyy]

theres something so wrong with u fret (affectionate

ABEL WILL CATCH UP. SHES AT 309 I BELIEVE IN HER

ocs are so cool. i love ocs. u guys ever heard of this

[atenceladusiaawfytbwb]

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣Unflowologing a lot of creators that turned out, I despised them, and or slightly inconvenience me, but mostly that, you know omg🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣 🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🔈🔊🔉🔉🔉🔉🔉🔊🔊🔊🔊And I share this because I'm currently hot angry,

and right, ironically and as joke sure, but also seriously, heartfully, I'll share what I think

I myself create a little, somewhere else, and is small, tiny, but I do like what I do and treasure it. Still can't imagine the level of disgust some get to feel against those who don't experience/enjoy/interact a certain way with it. Maybe I've just havent done something myself that I love so much, and put so much work into, that I turn into "ugh you don't have the right - block me if you don't like it not my problem- if you like but don't reblog you are literal thrash - some of you are so entitled to my work - didnt ask for you opinionnsonyou can go f urself and i may have reacted completely different to other interactions like yours positively with the only diference that what was told appealed to my very own perspective but that has nothing to do with the way im being mean and smug to you because the problem is that what you just said is objectively dumb and I cant believe you hadnt guessef id react negatively and that doubles my disgust towards you and i better never hear you enjoy anything made by me because I, a pixel on the web, condemn thy, another pixel on the web to never have acsses to my works publiced here, publicly and freely, on the internet. And you better do as I say, or what? Are that much more of a disgusting person-" Que finding other unrelated stuff (truk6 unrelated like wtf) to add on to why this one (person b/anon/fan/anyone) is very wrong and therefore this other one (person a/creator/anyone) is right, superior even, Que too that if public other people (unrelated too) have to show that much despise towards B or they are disgusting enablers supporters idk

And it is quite specific, I know, but it has happened enough times with different people/situations to be a thing.

Like an anon hey could I (something. Not mean or entitled (no, not related to ai use at all (obviously?))) And oh boy the answer. Oh boy, like: oh so you think that you can (a bunch of awful stuff the one asked got out of their ass bc was nowhere on the ask/comment) the audacity, omg wtf, the nerve- and the revlogs are of other people tagging stuff like ph yeah I can't believe it like the mental problems this annon must have'

I have a decent social understanding, I think? No, there wasn't condescending undertones or something to read between lines, unless you want to, because then you can do that about anything. Giiiirl like ioiiffffffoooofff I got ooooofff wtf fuck is so wrong with them bitch just called them stupid or dumb and move on? A paragraph on why bdjshdhdhdhfhd I can't write anymore idk fucking fuck fuck FUCHCFUCKFU K SGU K SHIT BITCH FUCK

[jymwahuwu]

Capitano has me grrrr so ill—

So the heat has been bad and you’re capitanos arranged marriage darling so naturally you fall ill. When u go to a doctor they confirm that you’re expecting a baby and you’re terrified to tell your husband lmao. You have no idea how he’d react so you tell and/or bribe the doctor to just tell capitano for you while you do your best to avoid him as best you can the rest of the day :3

Love this!! The flustered and shy you and the affectionate Capitano… now besides Tsaritsa he has someone to pledge his undying loyalty…🥺💕

cw: yandere, arranged marriage, creampie, pregnancy, fem reader

The marriage to Capitano was arranged - a mission. Your relatives have already been looking for a lifelong spouse for you when you reach adulthood. In the eyes of these traditional people, nothing is more important than marriage and childbirth. What you didn't expect was. An armored warrior slowly walked into your village with gifts, solemnly knelt down on one knee and proposed to you, asking them to marry you to him. Your relatives are shuddering.

Of course, they accepted his gift.

Capitano sent enough supplies for the entire village and set up a heating system to help them survive the winter. In exchange, he got his bride.

You've never met him before, but he seems to know every strand of your hair, every smile and worry.

Fatui? That's too far away for you. You have no deep understanding of his power. Full of confusion, you married him. Your husband is upright, aboveboard, and strong… He is not out of control or impulsive. Sex also seemed like a routine. Always advance in a careful and firm rhythm, and stretch your thighs for several hours until your vagina is swollen and dripping. This is how every battle ends. His balls ravaged your quivering petals, his thick glans pushing into the tight depths. He kissed your lips and the back of your hands intently, his warm breath blowing behind your earlobes.

Maybe he just needed an heir. You wonder in despair. Marriage may be romantic, but it's not yours.

You have recently lost your appetite, vomited, and your breasts are swollen. You start to wonder if this could be…?

Capitano tells you that you need his permission to go out. He is not stuffy and conservative. This is a measure to ensure your safety. You are sick and you just want to see a doctor. That's okay, but you still can't go out. The doctor treats you at the manor.

The doctor's diagnosis and treatment results confirm your concerns - you are pregnant, and a little life is growing inside you.

"P-please tell my husband for me," you plead quietly, sniffing. You don't know how Capitano will react.

The doctor readily agreed. For the next half day, you tried your best to avoid your husband, including hiding in the greenhouse, watering the flowers and plants, searching for a magazine "you are interested in but can't remember the name" in the reading room, practicing cooking, and exploring new ways to play TCG. Just as you were hiding in a corner of the library reading pregnancy books, a rush of footsteps approached. It's his leather shoes.

"Are you pregnant?"

Looking at him as if you were caught in the headlights, you covered your cheek with your book and answered vaguely. "Uh…maybe…"

"Are you pregnant?"

Question again. Even your vision was shaken, your waist was lifted, and Capitano lifted you with one hand. The deep scar on his face has now been replaced by affection, and his chest is roaring with joy, bathing in it. You lowered your head and lifted your legs off the ground, panicking. "You, please calm down…"

"…Sorry, I got carried away." He carefully placed you back on the ground, as if you were fragile porcelain, and then he took the back of your hand and kissed it as usual. Those deep blue eyes exuded energy, like twinkling stars in the dark night.

[gamblersdoll]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

a dragon-king! bakugou who finally meets someone who can take him— and maybe this marriage isnt such a bad thing. p in v, virgin! katsuki, (he gets a little bit excited) established relationship, breeding kink/ pregnancy mention.

katsuki hated the fact he was the new heir to the throne, his father passing away and that was truly a part of his sanity. mitsuki was the one who pushed marriage, he had to have a wife and sooner or later, children.

‘in what fucking planet do we live in to where we have to get married, hag?’ he remembers being a teenager and asking that question over and over and over again. just to be hit with a ‘our numbers are depleting, katsuki. we have to do these things in order to survive.’

he still rolls his eyes to the thought, but not now— since his old hag of a fucking mother is actually serious. she actually seeded out women who always wanted to be a woman on the throne, a woman who has seen the dragon queens’ son and wanted to risk it all for him. he despises it, women who throw themselves to a man.

“which one do you like the most, son?” she asks, smile lines on her aged face pulled by her fanged smile. “and hurry, we dont have all day.”

“none of them.” he deadpanned.

“boy— pick one or ill have your head!”

“and everyone wonders how dad died—“ he says, before receiving a smack to the back of his blonde head. “ow!”

“pick one, now.” she repeats, fixing herself and smiling to the line of girls presented to them. “alot of them are just lively.”

he sighs, crimson eyes wandering and his eyes match onto you, seeming like you truthfully didnt want to be here. “you,” he barks, a finger pointed at you and he nods up. “do you not want to be here or something?”

“to be picked by a dragon king who doesnt have anything better to do? absolutely not.” you snort, his eyebrow twitching and mistuki chuckles.

“perfect! we’ll set both of you up on a evening together.” she announces, a good bit of the women groaning and both of you lock eyes. didnt she just hear you werent here on your own will? katsuki scoffs, storming off and a hand dragging down his face.

“please excuse him, he’s not used to these things and doesnt know his duty as the new king.” she phrases, hands on your shoulders and a beaming smile. “youre going to love my son, im sure of it.”

“uh.. okay.” you say, at a lost for words.

you would love her son, huh? yeah, guess you could say that. his temper tantrums died down over the months— yet, one thing was weirder than anything,

that hes never once initiated sex. was he nervous? no, he’s never nervous to sit you on his lap when barking orders to servants or to behead a woman for questioning your intelligence and beauty, so it couldnt be he was nervous.

“bakugou, i have a—“

“woman, ive told you to call me katsuki.” he interrupted, a hand on a hip of yours and a deep grumble in his chest. the tribal jewelry jingled against his skin, a huff from him.

“katsuki, i need to ask you something.” you correct yourself, not daring to look to him— and yet he was staring deep into you. “why dont you ever.. why dont you ever try and touch me?”

he pauses himself at the question, a tight squeeze and then he looks away. “because you ain’ ready yet.” he solemnly says, a hand patting your hip. “ill let you know when.”

“you say that every time, though.” you reply, trying to press the matter further. “whats the real reason?”

he pinches the bridge of his nose, defensively irritated. “because you arent ready, woman.” he growls, agitation reaching his veins. “im not going to sit here and repeat my damn self.”

you get off of his lap, hearing a ‘sit back down’ from his lips and storm off. you werent hurt from his words, but you were questioning them. what in gods hell did he mean ‘you werent ready?’ youre a full fledged adult, not some child who couldnt understand why she couldnt go near the ocean.

maybe a few hours later, your king stumbling in and you both lock eyes. he opens his lips, eyes burning into yours. “im not here to fight with ya,” he says, a hand reaching onto your thigh and he huffs. “i just dont think youre physically prepared, nor mentally.”

“you arent my keeper, katsuki,” you remind, looking over to him and folding your arms in a groan. it was too late for this, especially after doing daily tasks as his wife. “you dont make that decision for me.”

“technically, i do. i dont have to fuck a woman.” he reminds as well.

“and what, do you not want pups?” you ask, his eyes flickering to you and his bouncing knee stops. “or is it im just not doing something for you?”

“not once have i ever said i didnt want children with you, y/n.” he growled, his gripping on your thigh tight. “i just said that you weren’t ready for that kind of thing, what apart of that dont you understand?”

“and how do you know what i am and am not ready for? is it because you havent slept with anyone before?”

he looks at you, straight faced.. you feel a chill go through your body, and you feel as if you had entirely fucked up— forgotten that this was a dragon king that you were married to..

and that you were dealing with.

“the last woman i tried to marry with could barely take anything that i gave her, you want to be next?” he warns, a small ounce of venom tracing his lips and he raised an eyebrow. “watch how you address me.”

“you know damn well thats not what i meant—“

“so what did you mean?”

“i meant if this is your first marriage, your first woman you slept with, ever.” you admit, scrambling for words to better help your case.

“yes and no.” he replies, patting your thigh. “the many women i tried to mate with could barely handle the tip.”

“okay.. so she left you because youre big down there, boo hoo—“

“no, you’re not understanding what i’m saying.” he stops you, grabbing your hands. “im your first dragon man, so..”

“us dragon men, we are bigger than the average human being. thats why we are better suited for dragon women, because their bodies can handle it.” he explained, still staring into you. “you arent ready for that kind of thing yet—“

“yeah, if you dont even attempt with me.”

he runs his hand through his hair, a nervous scoff. “the last woman who said that, her cervix was bruised and she cant have pups now, do you want that for yourself or do you not care about us?”

“katsuki, you dont have to be scared to do this with me.” you say, not even taking into account that he was a competitor, saying such words strikes a chord within him. and his chest swells with pride, him crawling onto you.

“no one is scared, woman.”

dragon men were definitely alot bigger than the average human man, you could feel it against you through the clothes that he wore, and his hands being big enough to wrap around your entire thigh.

his lips leave your neck, a whine coming from your throat and a deep grumble comes from his. he ran hot, his palms heated and sweaty from the passion and him grinding himself into your stomach.

he was needy, he hadnt been this needy in years.

“katsuki..” you mumble, hands along his sides and he kisses your lips, shutting you up.

“you think yer’ ready, little one?” he asks, his eyes blown out and dilated. he had been waiting for this, you can tell. you nod, teeth pulling at the small of your lip corner and he nods with you. his pants fall… and he wasnt lying, being nine inches long and twenty two centimeters wide. you swallow thick, looking down to the second beast he was swinging around. “you like to listen now, dont you?”

you nod, spreading your legs and he licks his lips. you watch his crawl ontop of you, kissing your collarbone and pressing his tip against your folds.

“kat—“ you say, him grunting and looking to you. “dont be nervous, okay?”

he softens a little, immediately forgetting that and hardening again. “let me know when to stop, ‘kay?” he says, pressing his tip and pushing it in.

his eyes widen, hearing you groan from the sudden stretch and he feels heat swell in his stomach. he cant fucking believe it, watching his cock slip deeper into your walls and he starts to pant. his eyes turn to slits, his canines growing sharper and wider— he was losing himself, realizing he’d finally met a woman who can take more than just the tip of his dragon cock.

“katsukiiiii..” you whine, a hand on his pelvis and he growls. “see..? im okay.”

he licks his lips, saliva pooling at the corner and then dribbling down the side of his mouth. “no fuckin way..” he growls, gripping your hips and jerking his hips. “fucking half way.. half way.” he repeats to himself, bottoming out and he claws at the sheets.

the dragon king holds your hips, raising them a little and then pulling you up, slowly pulling you back down and letting you adjust to his size. “give it to me..” he growls out, it being a echo.

“give you what..?” you ask, chest heaving and nipple hardened.

“your grace, give me the go ahead to take you.” he repeats, seeing you nod and pressing your legs to his chest. he licks at your calves, seeing the fire inside of his eyes while his cock drives into your cervix. “fuck! take all of it— take it all!” he growls, folding you up and slamming his body weight against your thighs.

slapping of wet skin, slick and creamy folds echo throughout the dragon kings bedroom—the dragon king becoming animalistic and he grabs your breasts in each hand. “katsukikatsukikatsuki!” you chant his name, eyes rolling and you cant remember how many orgasms youve been through from the dragon king.

“fuck— fucking have them, have my fucking pups!” he rumbles, nails digging into you as crescent moons into your skin and he presses his forehead to yours. “carry my kids, fucking take them— getting fucked fat with my kids— fuckk!”

he groans, pulling you down onto his cock as he stills. his cock gets pushed out, the dragon kings’ semen being in so much amounts it forces it out. he pants, ragged breaths and he falls against you, his body returning to his original state and his eyes return normal.

“katsuki?”

“mm.” he grunts, looking up to you and his face gets covered by your plush breasts.

“i dont want to say i told you so…

but i told you so.”

“do you remember when you thought i would die from having sex with you?” you say, sitting in the bathtub and bubbles cover your wet skin. “you were so nervous.” you chuckled, putting your hands on your round belly.

“yeah.. was kind of a punk for that.” he chuckles, smile lines, but yet— frown lines pulled from his chuckle. “you look gorgeous, beautiful.” he praises, kissing your cheek and putting a hand on your belly. “water too hot?”

“im carrying dragons, katsuki.” you remind, raising your hand to his cheek and caressing it. you feel his smile, and his lips press to yours. “the midwife should be here, soon.”

she was already there, both of you being enamored with each other to miss the part that was most important.

“what do you mean she’s having triplets?!”

[evie-sturns]

ɢᴇᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: you're spending the weekend at the sturniolos house, you've never had feeling for matt, but this weekend has been different, he just looks too good, the sexual frustration builds up to the point where you just have to get yourself off, but matt walks in on you..

Warnings: swearing, smut, f!masturbation, caught gettin freaky w yourself, fingering, p in v.

-----------------┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛-------------

i'm spending the weekend with my best friends, the sturniolos. i've never had any feelings for them, but this past week matt has been looking.. different. he's recently got more tattoos, his facial hair has grown out slightly, giving him a subtle moustache. matt's been wearing different earrings, longer ones, i've never thought about him this way, it weirds me out, but i can't help myself. i've had no privacy for the past 3 days though, constantly with a triplet. i've wanted to touch myself, but i physically cant.

i open the trash can, throwing in me, matt, nick and chris's empty solo cups, which were filled with rootbeer.

"im so fucking tired what time is it." chris yawns, standing up from the dining table.

"1:30am." nick mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

"okay guys, i'm going to bed yeah? gotta be up early for the beach tomorrow" chris says, doing stupid claps with a wide grin on his face.

i scoff, waving him goodbye as he disappears upstairs. nick runs over to me, giving me a quick hug "i'm gonna sleep too, love ya y/n, see you in the morning."

me and matt stand in the kitchen, i lean on the countertop slightly, scrolling on our phones. his face is lit by his screen, highlighting his features. i don't even notice the fact i'm squeezing my thighs together until he looks up at me.

"you okay, mrs. staring problem" he jokes, giving me a smile. my cheeks flush, i uncross my thighs and wipe my face quickly. "sorry." i say, quickly.

"i'm gonna go watch a movie okay? my rooms always open." i say, giving matt a hug.

i get butterflies, why the fuck did i get butterflies?

i feel a heat grow between my legs, i run upstairs, going into the spare room which im staying in for the next few days. i lock the door behind me,

atleast i think i do.

i flop down on the bed, my hand reaches under my waistband, tracing soft circles over my fabric of my panties. "fuck." i whisper before shimmying my shorts and panties down in one motion to my ankles.

im left with my bottom half revealed on the bed, i use one finger to trace my clit in circles. i squirm on the bed, restraining my moans. after a few minutes i plunge two fingers into my hole, pumping in and out.

my mind subconsciously flicks to matt, his tattoos, which crawl up his arms, his hair, his hands, i wonder what they would look like around my neck-

the door opens, my eyes bulge open, me and matt make direct eye contact, i instantly yank up my shorts,

"get out please!" i say, my voice shaking, as i sit up quickly

"oh fuck im so sorry!" he yells slamming the door shut, his face pale.

i fall back on the bed, covering my face with a long groan.

embarrasment.

is the only thing i feel, my heart pounds as i bring my knees to my chest.

after 10 minutes, i hear a quiet knock on the door, i sit up off the bed, walking towards the door and opening it.

im met with matts guilty face, his cheeks are flushed, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead.

he opens his mouth, nothing comes out execpt for a small noise. he clears his throat "sorry."

"i uh, sorry um, i really shouldve knocked." he says fidgeting with his hand. i stay silent, my cheeks cherry red. "i swear i didn't see much." he assures, i look up at him, raising an eyebrow in a 'really?' way. he stares at me "maybe thats a lie, but i swear ill blank it out of my mind!" he says, his voice frantic.

"its fine matt, i shouldve locked the door okay? lets go watch a movie in your room." i say, giving matt a warm smile. he nods, walking towards his room.

i follow close behind him as he jumps into bed, laying an arms out, i jump in beside him, cuddling close into his side.

my heart beats again, when im nervous words just come out.

"i was thinking about you when i was touching myself." i blurt out, slamming a hand over my mouth. the room goes silent. im frozen in shock.

"what?" he says in confusion.

"not true." i mumble out. my hand glued to my mouth.

matt tenses up under me. "y/n.. you have to tell me right now what your were thinking about.." he says, calmer than expected/

i stay silent.

"y/n." hes cut off by my voice.

"you it was you, i don't know!" i say, my voice trembling from embarrassment.

"what about me?" matt teases, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly

"tattoos, hair, hands" my mouth is moving faster than my brain.

"is that so now?" he says, looking down at me.

i nod quickly, matt sits up on his knees before hovering over me. i look up at him, my eyes submissive.

he smashes his lips into mine, holding the back of my head. "matt" i whine into his mouth. "i know, i know." he says, pulling my shorts down. "can i?" he says, toying with the waistband of my panties.

"please." i beg, lifing my hips up to help him. he leans down and whispers into my hair.

"whats gonna happen is you're gonna ride me, and you arent going to make a single noise, nick and chris are right next door."

i nod, flipping us over, straddling his thighs with my bare lower half.

he pulls down his sweatpants, his large erection springing out. "you ready?" he says, tearing open a condom with his teeth and rolling it on him. "i really like you.." i whisper, hovering above his tip. "you need help sweatheart?" matt speaks, holding my ass.

i didn't, i just wanted to feel his hands on me.

"yes,- yeah please.."

he lowers me down onto him, halfway down. suddenly he drops me, my ass colliding with his thighs, i let out a gasp as he smiles, he lifts me back up to his tip, before dropping me again.

i let out a shaky moan, matt holds a hand over my mouth. "can't stay quiet can you baby?" he teases, lifting me up and down.

i squeeze my eyes shut, pushing myself up and down with my hands on his collar bones. i let out muffled whimpers, his hand clamped onto my lips.

"so good princess." he praises, lifting me up and down faster.

"you're clenching, gonna cum for me?"

i nod frantically,

"go on." he says, i instantly comply, orgasming on his length.

he groans before pulling out of me, his cum spilling into his condom. i instantly collapse on his chest. matt whispers praises in my ear.

i place a long kiss on his neck.

"pretty glad i didn't lock the door." i say in between breaths

—-———-----┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛------------------

had a shitty day today so i wrote matt smut LMAO

[moonstruckme]

Can I request whimsical!reader and Sirius Black?? Or maybe poly!marauders but I just feel like Sirius would be so whipped for his quirky girl and join in on whatever shenanigans she starts 🫶

Sooo right babe, thanks for requesting :)

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 878 words

“Darling,” Sirius keeps his voice quiet as he slinks down into the armchair. “What are you doing?” 

You look up from where you’re knelt beside the couch, bent ominously over James’ sleeping form. He’s out cold, his glasses discarded and placed carefully on the coffee table by Remus. James is a hard sleeper on a good day, but when he’s sick even the apocalypse couldn’t wake him. His breath wheezes noisily in and out through clogged nostrils. 

“I’m cleansing him,” you whisper. 

“With rocks.” 

You send your boyfriend a smile, well used to his ragging. “With crystals,” you correct him softly, placing another on James’ sternum. 

Sirius sits forward curiously. “What do they do?” he asks.

“Different things.” 

When you don’t seem inclined to go on, he reaches forward to poke at your shoulder. You sway placidly like a ship on calm waters. “Like?” he prompts. 

You hum, taking a smooth, green rock from your pouch. “Well,” you say, “this one is jade. It helps with headaches.” You place it gingerly on James’ forehead. 

“I see.” Sirius nods thoughtfully. “And what’s that blue one?” 

“It’s to help support his immune system.” 

“Uh huh. So you’re trying to heal him, is that it?” 

You consider this for a moment. “Sort of,” you say. “More like help his body heal itself.” 

Sirius grins at your breezy kindheartedness and slides down onto his knees beside you. “That’s sweet, baby.” He kisses your cheek, delighting when it dimples. “Can I help?” 

“Sure,” you say, looking pleased, “if you want to.” 

You move your little pouch so it sits between the two of you. Sirius brushes a piece of hair behind his ear, considering the stones inside. He picks up a cool-looking black and red one. 

“What’s this?” 

You glance over from where you’re setting another crystal on James’ chest. “Garnet,” you tell him. 

“And what’s it help with?” 

“Calcium deficiency.” 

Sirius guffaws. He covers his mouth with his hand when Remus pokes his head out of the kitchen, looking suspicious. 

“You think our boy’s fallen ill because he’s low in calcium?” he whispers. 

You shrug, scrunching your nose in that silly way you do when you don’t get why he’s laughing. “I guess I thought it couldn’t hurt.” 

“What are you two doing?” Remus asks, coming over with his arms crossed to lean against the wall. His voice is cautiously quiet. 

Sirius leaves you in charge of fielding questions while he dedicates himself to carefully balancing the garnet crystal on the point of James’ nose. His knuckles brush his boyfriend’s overwarm cheek as he retracts his hand, grinning at his work. He wonders if he can get one in his mouth without waking him. 

“We’re using crystals to help Jamie get better,” you explain, voice light as thistledown. “Siri, love, you can’t put it there. It’ll fall.” 

To his disappointment, you take the stone from James’ nose and place it between his collarbones. When Sirius pouts, you dig in the pouch to hand him another. 

“Here, try again.” 

“No.” Remus recognizes the glint in Sirius’ eyes and steps forward to snatch the stone from him. “Don’t enable him, sweetheart,” he tells you. “He’s just playing around.” 

You seem unconcerned, leaving Remus to deal with Sirius as he sees fit while you continue your healing rituals. 

“Excuse me for trying to help our sick boyfriend,” Sirius protests. 

“She’s trying to help,” Remus says sternly. “You’re just going to wake him.” 

“He could sleep through a tornado.” 

“He’s ill, Pads. Leave him be.” 

“Sorry, Jamie,” your voice comes, soft and sympathetic. Remus and Sirius both turn. “How are you feeling?” 

“Wha…” James clears his throat, then sniffles thickly. “What’s on me?” 

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say. Your hand comes up to stroke at the damp curls lying across his forehead. “Do you feel calcium sufficient?” 

“What?” 

“The answer is yes,” Sirius helps him out. “Yes, you do feel calcium sufficient.” 

“I suppose so.” Crystals fall from James’ face as he sits up on his elbows, rubbing at his cheek. 

“I’m sorry we woke you,” Remus murmurs, crouching by James face and beginning to take crystals off his chest. You look slightly put out, but you don’t protest. Sirius kisses the side of your head consolingly. “How are you feeling, love?” 

“Properly stuffed up.” He inhales sharply through his nose, and Sirius feels his mouth twist at the ugly snuffling sound. “A bit better than when I fell asleep, though.” 

Remus and Sirius both look at you. Your smile spreads like a slow sunrise, the tops of your cheeks turning a pleased pink. Sirius’ heart does an embarrassing little dance. He takes your hand, stamping a kiss on the back of your palm. 

“Do you feel like some tea?” Remus asks James, his own lips curved slightly. 

“That sounds fantastic,” James admits. 

Remus smiles over at you. “Want to help me make it?” 

You hop up eagerly. “I can go get some thyme from the garden,” you say, headed for the back door. “It’s good for respiratory issues.” 

James makes a face and Remus takes you by the shoulders, gently redirecting you towards the kitchen. “Maybe just a regular tea for now, sweetheart,” he says. “But we can definitely try that later.”

[vaguely-concerned]

I think there is no better illustration of the more intimate, internal angle veilguard chooses to approach its characters and themes with than the fact that like... listen in this game we get to follow so much pain back to its source, and we find it really does permeate everything in thedas today on a level that evokes a kind of cosmic horror. the bones of the earth itself are broken open and drenched in trauma; the world is mired in suffering down to the core and the marrow. as above, so below. as outside, so inside. on the big scale, and the small. all of creation is a throat gone to bloody shreds from screaming in agony, when you allow yourself to listen. (maybe that's why we usually don't, or can't, bring ourselves to listen.)

...and yet the thing that makes me personally so desperately gnaw-my-own-arm-off sad that it feels like I could die from it is that in a run where you save minrathous, lucanis never gets out from the ossuary in his mind. what's worse, no one even knows he's in there. he's still in there. and there is no rescue on the way, because he's locked down so deep inside himself this time that there's no way for anyone to even understand there's a need for it. would he be able to welcome one, if someone did realize it and tried to reach him? You know him -- you can open the door, but he won't walk through. He won't move. There's nowhere to go. the way he says 'it doesn't matter what I want' with such utter, leaden, final resignation in the wrecked treviso cutscene is going to haunt me forever. it makes perfect sense to me you can't romance him after that, I'm not sure he's ever really here completely in that version of events, at least within the timeline the game takes place. he's just standing in the shitty awful ossuary torture room all alone, and no one's coming to find him.

and what is that, next to the millennia of suffering screaming through all of history and creation? well. nothing, of course, not really. a single plucked string in an endless deafening symphony of despair. one singular trapped and broken soul among the untold millions that have gone before and the untold more that will surely come after, that are being made as we speak in the conflicts and tragedies unfolding through the game. but more importantly it's also everything. to me. and to the game too. the game says this also matters. just as much as anything else, this pain matters and deserves to be loved and comforted. even in the face of all the suffering in the world, beneath the systems perpetuating all the banalities of evil, for good or for ill sometimes, we matter to each other. and what would be the point of anything, if we didn't? that's where hope lives. as long as you're alive, the right key might still arrive to gently open the locks of your mind, the right hand might reach out one day and you will bring yourself to take it. you don't know what tomorrow's going to be. if in the meantime the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other -- isn't that enough? isn't that everything? why does this one guy saved mean the world saved to me, a little bit? hello. hello. hello. there's stuff going on in the deep here.

when I say that the deep thematic spine of this game is so good and solid that the occasional clumsiness and false tones of the writing on top of it simply cannot hurt me... I think this is part of what I mean. works for every single one of the characters of course! lucanis' is the predicament that speaks to me most viscerally. for. uh. personal reasons there simply is no time to get into at this juncture lol. but just as much the idea that davrin can die before he could see the world freed from the blight and the need for wardens, or that harding can get cut down right at the beginning of a great revelation that could change everything and heal things no one had even dreamed could be healed. all of them are like this. each and every one of us has a world and so many stories inside that matter, and it's not to dismiss the larger systemic forces and evils that create so much of the suffering in the world to focus in on that for one installment of the series -- only to view it from a different angle that brings other things to light than what we're looking for normally in this series. it's worth looking at what's actually here.

(have you ever heard the poem 'good light' by andrea gibson? it's very good. you should check it out if you haven't, you can find it on youtube. it has these lines:

Come make it count Our finding each other like we found God Come root for the salt Come believing we can heal it all, even everything Even everything that has ever been done I know how much the pain of this world weighs But I can still tip the scales in light's direction Whenever I have your name on my tongue

and yeah. I think that's basically what I'm trying to say here.)

[lara4eclipze]

“one of the girls”

— ( 👯‍♀️ ) the minute they laid their eyes on you — they knew they needed you

— ( 🌪️ ) nasty smut , threesome, slight voyeurism, dubcon(?) , swearing , degrading, dom!marz , cum , mentions of men , marz are perverts! y/n is too.,.,.., marz refer to their straps as cocks!

— ( 📼 ) 100 follower special!! thank you all sm , this means the world to me , ill spare you the long ass speech but thank you smm

notoriously known as the hottest couple on campus , smart , rich and oh very much scary — now how the fuck did you get roomed with them , with the lara raj and meret manon.

maybe it was just your karma but god you didn't want any relation to the pair , picture this every time you have to go home from a long day you are greeted by the two ridiculously hot women hugging or even worse kissing.

yeah no.

when you tried complaining to the council they just flat out said they requested you — what the fuck does that mean? , they can just pick out their roommates?

either way , now you're outside the room begging yourself to pull it together "fuckkk" you drag out your words , nervous and scared of what might greet you behind the door.

"need something?" you hear an all too familiar voice say behind you , you. we're. fucked.

you turn around and guess who , lara raj holding some bags in her hand presumably her things.

"uhm nothing just , uh going in" you reply opening the door to the room , you sigh planting down your bags and dragging yourself to your bed.

"manon should be here soon—let me help you unpack" lara says , her hands already on your bag so who are you to say no?

"yeah sure" you simply replied opening your bag , she helped you put them in your dresser , of course she had to sneak in some not so needed touching.

such as holding your waist when your reaching for something high , or placing her hand on your thighs when talking .

you didn't question it cause who would? she's in a relationship c'mon now.

keys jingle outside the door , and in comes manon , she had lesser bags and was wearing headphones.

"hi babe!" lara squeals running up to manon to hug her , they were honestly very domestic

cute , yet so annoying

"here's y/n our roommate" lara says to manon as if they didn't request you , it intrigued you why they specifically asked for you , I mean you guys only had one class together and practically never interacted before

—⟩

week one wasn't so bad , they kept their space and you kept yours— you'd occasionally get home whilst they both were asleep and it was cute they were nicer than you thought

well until some rumor spread in campus — rumor has it that you were a part of their relationship who would make such a rumor?

they did , lara had a field day making up this rumor

"does it bother you?" lara asks as you both sat down , watching some movie

"not really I just find it weird don't get me wrong but you guys are the couple I'm not a part of that" you replied

her hands on your thighs yet again , she swiped it up and down in a comforting matter

"you know you can tell me anything right?" she asks , using her fingers to brush off a stray hair from your face

unknowingly you blush at the act — god help me right now, you cannot be attracted to lara

"yeah , and I'm thankful for that" you smiled warmly, your cheeks felt hot and you were flustered nonetheless

she smiles back and turns to continue watching the movie—you swore to god that you can see her smirking

—⟩

"come on it'll be fun!" manon insist as she tries to convince you to come shopping with her and lara

"I can't — I swear my bank account is in the negatives" you replied as you frown at both , but they kept pushing you to come

"who said you'll pay?" lara says with faux confusion , a light grin escapes her poker face

"ugh fine" you playfully roll your eyes at the pair as they both cheer , "okay come on I'll drive" manon says as she pulls out her keys and starts walking out of the dorm

the drive wasn't so loud but they played some of lara's favorite songs — she had good taste to say the least

—⟩

"this one is pretty on you" lara says adjusting the crop tshirt to her desired length, her hands on your midriff, your actually gonna lose your mind

"yeah I agree" manon says from behind you , you tilt your head trying to assess the shirt from the big mirror in front of you

"oh-uh yeah I'd like this" you stammered , gosh you can't keep embarrassing yourself! , lara turns to manon and smirks

"it makes your boobs look big" lara says bluntly — what the hell , okay maybe she wasn't thinking about what she said but still!

"how about this skirt I picked?" manon says holding up a miniskirt , were you ever gonna wear this? — no but it looked cute

"okay let's try it?" you said , manon helps you out of your previous pants , left with your safety shorts you felt bare infront of two powerful people , manon smiles at you and helps you wear the skirt

fuck your ass is legitimately out and open in this , the skirt was much more shorter when you wore it

"you look cute and hot in it" manon says her hands are still planted on your waist , her grip tight as if you'll try to run away , lara agrees humming "mhm"

wet is a fuckin' understatement, you were practically the ocean at this point — lara's obvious stare at your body and manon's hand's on it—shit , do you like them both?

"I think it's too short" you try to reason , your legs were about to give up on you , damn it why the fuck do you like them both at the same time?!

"I think it's perfect — don't you want to flaunt your pretty body?" lara questions , "you're honestly so hot—you just can't style yourself" she follows

okay what else lara , spill it out do you guys do this to me for fun?! , am i a joke to you? , do you guys like me , tell me!—your mind was racing with thoughts

"wow , rude" you tease

—⟩

days pass and you keep thinking about the words of lara, she was checking you out which was weird but goddamit she was too pretty for her own good

laying down in your bed , you were bored and bothered about the fact you were attracted to the pair and how badly you wanted them to fuck you— maybe it was lara's big hands the way her fingers were long god it made you dizzy — manon having her pretty nose it made you wonder how it would feel between your fol-

"gosh stop being weird!" you whine , why are you imagining them fucking you?—it made you impossibly turned on your cunt was practically begging for attention you got yourself all worked up

"what am I doing" you sigh , as you pull down your shorts , circling your clit with a figure eight motion — soon your underwear was off as well

you shut your eyes , imagining the pair fucking you—moans left your mouth , lara's name manon's name , gosh good thing the walls were pretty thick or else the neighbors would've heard

"hmh? you need us y/n" you heard lara's menacing voice , fuck your caught—your eyes widen and as your tried to cover yourself up manon quickly pins your arms by your side

"what a pervert y/n , pleasing yourself to us?— what would the campus think?" lara condescendingly says , you try to push away manon's hand but she was stronger

"please don't tell them lara " you beg , obviously you might lose your precious scholarship and other shit

"we won't don't worry — for a price" manon teases as a grin forms on her face—lara moves closer to you and rests her hands on your thighs , inching impossibly close where you needed her most

"please I'll do anything j-just don't tell anyone" you said desperate — manon quickly shuts you up by leaning and kissing you , she bites your lower lips to access the cavern of your mouth

lara then pushes her fingers in you—at a inhumane speed , her fingers curled at the gummy spot in you

manon then separates from you, panting for air "fuck lara!— I mghm!" you moan as lara chuckles darkly her fingers still deep in you

"fucking slut — is this what you wanted for us to use you? , well your gonna get used" manon berates you as she removes her own clothes , helping lara out of hers as well

they were perfect, lara had the best boobs and manon's body was toned — you clench around lara's fingers which didn't go unnoticed she speeds up and whispers filthy things into your ears

"mhm your gonna cum? — fuck your squeezing my fingers" lara whispers as you cum all over her fingers , some dripping, she pulls out and puts it in her mouth moaning at your taste

manon follows collecting your nectar and treating herself "fuck your delicious — good thing we aren't done yet" manon follows

—⟩

manon practically manhandled you her strap hitting the deepest in you as you gag on lara's strap "your made to be our toy" manon says snapping her hips forward making you cry around lara's length

"look at you taking both our cocks — fucking whore" lara berates as she pulls your hair up to kiss you , saliva dribbled out of your mouth from how hard they were fucking you

manon reaches forward and pinches your nipples — you moan into lara's mouth , after the kiss manon pulls you up and uses her hands to choke you as she plunges deeper into your core

"fuck!" your voice all high in pitch, lara pulls out her phone and starts recording you , she zooms into your cunt as manon rails you

as you cum around manon's strap lara stops recording and removes her strap to be followed by the older

you all lay down in the pairs bed , lara pushes your head towards her chest as you start to suck on her nipples , "so good" lara murmurs

manon hugs you from behind as you start to fall asleep too tired to even think about what you three did

[obxsummer]

good things fall apart // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: post-pogue reunion calls for campfire conversations, more walking, and PhDs in thiefology. jj asks you about your wishes and a near mercenary encounter has you on the run again (to no surprise ever).

warnings: usual obx drama, nothing too exciting

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

--

“I think next time we take a trip, we should maybe plan ahead.”

John B’s obvious statement made you burst into laughter. The lot of you were crowding around the campfire that was still trucking along through the day and night, conversation flowing to pass the time as you tried to come up with a game plan on your next move.

You were settled against JJ’s chest, his legs caging you in on each side as you leaned into him. His arms hung loosely around your chest and his back pressed into a log that he and Pope had managed to roll up the dune and situate as a seating option for your temporary setup. Neither of you wanted to separate from the other for as long as you could, so you kept close. 

“We can stay in a hotel next time,” Sarah offered, smiling brightly at the idea. “Preferably one with a shower.”

Kie’s face turned up in disgust. “Oh yeah, I smell awful.”

“I smelled myself today,” John B grimaced in reaction. It was no secret you guys needed fresh clothes and a hot shower for sure.

“You’re not the only one who smelled you,” Sarah added, pinching the boy in his side as the group laughed with her.

Rhythmically, JJ’s fingers moved back and forth on your arm, the motion lulling you to sleep. “Hey, uh, you know what’s a good name for a baby? JJ.”

You rolled your eyes at his words but didn’t stop the small smile forming on your face. “The last thing we need are two of you running around.”

“What baby?” Cleo asked, eyeing you particularly. You shook your head slightly, letting your eyes drift to Sarah as a hint. 

The blonde girl was much more enthusiastic to share the news, having come to terms on her own with it. She reached out for John B, gripping his fingers with hers as realization fell across Pope’s face. “No freaking way.”

“A Poguelet?” Cleo asked with a huge smile on her face, sitting up in Pope’s arms as the couple descended into chaos.

“You?” Pope pointed at Sarah but he was staring at John B in shock. “You’re gonna be a freaking dad!”

Your brother’s arms went up in the air in celebration. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“A little baby!” Cleo scrambled out of Pope’s embrace to press her ear against Sarah’s stomach dramatically, like she would be able to hear anything. Her lips continued to move as she spoke into Sarah’s dress, promising that she would be the favorite aunt if she had anything to do with it. You laughed at the sight, snuggling closer into JJ who was happy to tighten his hold on you. 

“You’re so ill equipped for that!”

“I know, but it’s totally okay!”

“Congrats, holy shit!”

Your gaze moved slightly to the left where Rafe was lounging. It was hard to miss that he kept glancing over and it was even harder to admit that you kinda felt bad that he was finding out about Sarah’s pregnancy in this way. 

You couldn’t imagine if John B found out you were pregnant from an overheard conversation and not you directly telling him. Which, sore subject and all, but your opinion still stood. 

You sighed, biting your lip in consideration before shifting out of JJ’s warm grip. He looked up at you expectantly. “Be right back, okay?”

He nodded, accepting the small kiss you gave him before you stepped away from the group to sit in front of Rafe. Not too close, of course, but enough that only the two of you would hear. Your fingers tugged at your lip and you contemplated how to even begin the conversation. 

There was a lot more to your “relationship” with Rafe than the two of you even noticed. Despite all of the hard feelings and trauma, you were both broken souls that were laid bare to the other at some point in time. Rafe didn’t realize it, but he’d spilled more of his deepest darkest thoughts to you when you were at their house. He found comfort in that. And whether you realized it or not, you’d been at your lowest in his presence, even if he was part of the cause. 

“Um, thank you. For what you did earlier,” You started, your fingers picking at your shorts. “I’d probably be fish food if it wasn’t for you.”

Rafe glanced over at Sarah, a moment of silence passing before he answered. “Yeah, I uh, things might be different right now with me and Sarah but I didn’t want to stand by knowing I could’ve prevented that for someone else.”

The answer caught you off guard slightly. Rafe’s relationship with Sarah was not a good one, in any way, shape, or form. Maybe at one point it had been, but you’d yet to see it. It had only gotten worse since she’d returned with John B and when Rafe found out Ward had died, he’d been downright cruel to her. 

Sarah had done her best to talk to him, especially when Rose declined all of her calls and Wheezie’s number was suddenly no longer available. She was rightfully scared of Rafe and his unpredictable anger, which had ended most of their conversations before they even happened. 

“I can’t speak for her, but I think she would appreciate you trying to talk to her… in a calm manner,” You emphasized and looked at him pointedly. 

Rafe rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. “Yeah, well she should’ve thought about that before she let Dad die. She chose John B, that was her decision, not mine.”

You didn’t say anything, knowing it wasn’t your place to explain what happened in El Dorado. It wasn’t like Rafe would understand anyway, since he didn’t seem to listen to anyone but himself. You were trying. Despite the screaming feeling in your chest that wanted you to run, you were trying. If you didn’t make peace with what happened, it would continue to have a hold on you. Not saying Rafe deserved (or would receive) any forgiveness, but acceptance was part of the grieving process and you owed yourself freedom from it all. 

“Rafe, look at me.”

He nearly winced at the authority your tone held, the sound unfamiliar to him when it came from you. He looked up to see you staring at him with what he assumed was sympathy. You, sympathizing with him after all he’d done. 

“Your dad is not here anymore, and I know that’s hard to deal with. Trust me. But his hold over you, the way he manipulated you, it left with him. You don’t have to do anything for him. In fact, everything you do now, is for yourself. Just… think about that, okay?”

You didn’t leave room for conversation after that and returned to JJ, feeling much lighter than you had in a long time.

--

Sometimes, it felt like all you guys did was walk. Or run, you were always running from something, too. And you know what, it was getting really annoying. Crossing the dunes of Morocco wasn’t on your bucket list at all, and the beating sun wasn’t helping in the slightest. 

You were trying to keep a positive attitude, but man, today was not your day.

“Look, all is not lost. Like, we got a bead on Groff, and he can lead us to the crown. Happily ever after, right?” JJ theorized as the two of you walked hand in hand, your arms swinging slightly between you as the group followed in your footsteps. 

You nearly laughed, “Oh, someone woke up on the right side of the bed today, huh?”

JJ rolled his eyes, playfully pushing into your side and nearly knocking you over before he pulled back on your hand to keep you upright. A shocked gasp left your mouth as you lost your footing before he stabilized you again, a laugh bubbling from his throat.

“Asshole,” You joked, bumping your hip with his.

“Hey,” He whined in faux annoyance. “You love me.”

You paused in your walk to face him. “You’re so lucky I do.” Shifting on your toes, you kissed him slowly, ignoring the complaints from your friends as JJ flipped them off in response. It was hard not to dismiss everything that had happened in the past 48 hours when you were all here, together and alive, safe and sound.

As long as everyone made it out of this, you could keep moving forward, one step at a time.

--

The walk across the dunes continued for what felt like hours (and likely was), before civilization came into view. Essaouira, Pope explained, was a major port city for Morocco. The landscape was a crowded one, with building after building stacked next to the other. 

“What’s the plan here?” You asked, glancing back at your brother who was keeping Sarah close with her evident exhaustion. Everyone was dehydrated, sore, tired, and in need of a refresher. 

“We locate the wharf and find Groff, yeah? That’s all we gotta do,” JJ said as you guys walked through the tunnel that opened into the bustling town, people flooding in all directions. 

Your eyes widened at the surplus of individuals moving about and you turned to JJ to see his shocked expression. “That might be a little harder than we thought.”

Pope scoffed next to you, his expression unamused. “You think?”

JJ’s grip on your hand tightened before he took the step into the crowd and you reached your other hand back to grab ahold of Cleo’s, determined to keep the group together as you weaved your way through. 

It was overwhelming as the voices blended together, people shouting at you for money or items, hands grabbing on to your clothing before Cleo smacked them away with a disgruntled disapproval. 

“Babe, we gotta get out of here,” You huffed as someone else bumped into you causing you to stumble into JJ’s back. 

Pope must’ve overheard because he was suddenly taking the lead, JJ following in step with him to get out of the chaos to somewhere quieter. It didn’t take long before you found yourself staring up at a large statue of a man with a menacing sword, the stone carved with delicate details.

“Yo, that Murat,” Pope explained as everyone came to a stop. “The Barbary pirate. That’s the guy Groff was telling us about.”

“Holy shit,” John B mumbled as he looked up at the statue. “That’s him, the one who made the map to find the crown.”

“Which might be closer than we think. Let’s go.” JJ started following the path again which unfortunately was taking you all back into another crowded space. 

The heat was almost nauseating at this point and you hoped there would be a good opportunity to take a break here soon.

Apparently, Sarah was feeling the same way as John B eased her down on a nearby ledge. She was obviously pale and not feeling well. You separated from JJ as the group stopped walking and crouched next to the blonde girl. Your hands moved quickly to pull her hair off her neck and up into a bun, twisting a hair tie from your wrist to keep it out of her face. 

“Nauseous?” You asked with a knowing feeling. Nobody had really eaten a sustainable meal since you left Poguelandia, just snacks and bits of cooked fish that you’d caught. It wasn’t a surprise she didn’t feel good.

She barely nodded, letting out a deep breath and resting her head on the stone wall behind her. “Really nauseous.”

You looked at John B and almost laughed at the stress on his face. “Bee, she’s fine. Just needs some food and water, okay?”

John B nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“Everything okay?” Kie asked as she hovered over you. 

“No-”

“I’m fine,” Sarah spoke over John B’s reply, her stubborn attitude peeking out as she made eye contact with you. You gave her a reassuring nod, hand resting on her shoulder as John B’s fingers brushed through her hair.

Turning, you looked up at JJ. “She needs something to eat and water.”

“Good luck with that, we don’t have any money,” Pope commented before Cleo glared at him and smacked his shoulder in reprimand.

“Don’t be so negative,” She hissed at him before addressing you again. “We can do it the old fashioned way.”

“A little five finger discount?” JJ followed her idea, his fingers waving teasingly. “I got my PhD in Thiefology.”

You shook your head at him, not necessarily pleased with the idea but realizing there really was no other option. “Guys, please be careful okay? We’re not in the States and-”

You were cut off by a $100 bill being shoved in your face.

Blinking in shock, you looked up to see Rafe holding out the crisp bill with an unamused look on his face. When you didn’t move to grab it, he gave you a pointed look and waved it slightly. “Baby steps?”

You nodded slightly, unsure what caused his sudden change but appreciating it nonetheless. Shock wearing off, your fingers pinched the money gently and he pulled back, resuming his uninterested appearance and stepping away from the group. Sarah looked at you, confused, to which you could only shrug. 

You let out a deep breath and offered the money back to Pope. “Essentials, yeah? The more the better.”

Money in hand, Pope nodded and recruited JJ, Kie, and Cleo to come with him. 

“Just hurry up with whatever dumb shit you guys do, alright?” Rafe called as your brother joined the group heading into the market, leaving you with Sarah. Apparently his momentarily kindness was spent as he yelled at them. 

You gave him a sharp glare to which he raised his hands in surrender, walking away to entertain himself for the time being. With a sigh, you put your attention back on Sarah, who was already looking at you. “What?”

“Are you okay?” She asked with a knowing look on her face. “Talking to him?”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. It doesn’t help any of us if we’re tiptoeing around each other the whole time. So I tried to talk to him about it last night. Obviously, it didn't work fully but we’re getting there.” 

“Baby steps?” She repeated his words and you nodded.

Shrugging off your backpack, you tried to find any snacks within the mess of first aid supplies and JJ’s obnoxiously long charger cord (not that he needed that anymore, considering his phone was at the bottom of the ocean). Your fingers caught hold of a water bottle and you cracked it open for Sarah to drink.

She sipped slowly and closed her eyes to rest against the wall, her body finally beginning to cool off from the hike and beating sun. It didn’t take long before your group was back together, various food and clothing bundled in their hands.

Pope took your backpack to fill with the remainder of the items after passing them out, including some to Rafe who took them with a grunt of thanks. You bit into the fresh fruit aggressively, nearly devouring it in record timing.

Once everyone had eaten, you were moving again, weaving through the throngs of people in the direction of what you hoped would lead you to the wharf. 

“I think we lost Rafe,” Cleo commented as the group slowed and sure enough, the elder Cameron was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s fine, he’ll catch up,” Sarah dismissed with a wave of her hand, figuring if anything he left on his own with the intent of finding Groff without waiting on you all. “He probably has his passport, anyway. Better him than us.”

You nodded in agreement with her words, figuring Rafe would’ve prepared for this trip better than you all and considering he had a shit ton of money with him, he’d be fine. “Agree.”

“Where we going?” Kiara asked, her eyes falling on Cleo as she held the fresh clothes in her hands. She was itching to change and get the ruined fabric off her body. Plus, you all stood out like sore thumbs and switching outfits would help blend.

“Here.” John B waved you all over to an empty hut. “You guys go first, we’ll switch.”

You ducked inside with Cleo, Sarah, and Kie to change quickly before the boys swapped spots and you all continued on your journey to the wharf. The new attire was much more comfortable, and although still unfamiliar, you felt more in place than before. 

Eventually, you found yourself staring across hundreds of boats all packed in the tiny marine area. 

“Groff was on Hollis’s boat, so look for something fancy,” JJ offered as he scanned the vicinity for the familiar yacht. “I mean, it’s gotta be here. This is the only wharf in town.”

“I don’t know about no fancy boat, but that’s Terrance’s boat,” Cleo spoke up, her finger pointed across the way to one of the vessels that was docked. 

Pope wasn’t so convinced. “Are you sure?”

Cleo turned to him, unamused. “I grew up on that boat, man. I’d know that boat anywhere.”

“If his boat’s here, the Corsairs are here,” You added and crossed your arms over your chest. “Which also means Groff’s here.”

“And the one who killed Captain T.” Cleo smirked at the idea, her fingers already tracing the handle of her knife on her side.

“No lights, no motion. My vote is we go, see if we can use anything,” Kie said with a shrug.

You nodded in agreement and JJ took a step forward to move on before rushed disagreements fell from the others.

“No, wait. Not you. They know what you two look like,” Pope pointed to you as JJ stopped in his tracks. “Somebody else needs to go.”

“They know what half of us look like,” You countered. “Which leaves-”

“I’ll do it.”

You turned with wide eyes to Sarah, who’d spoken up. “What?”

She shrugged, confused by everyone’s reactions. “I’ll do it,” She repeated and rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, I can do things.”

“I believe you,” John B was quick to agree, though his tone said otherwise. 

“They don’t know what I look like. I’ll do it, I can do it.”

“I’m coming with you!” He called to the blonde girl before pointing at you as he started to walk. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckled as John B took off after her to catch up, mumbling to himself in the process. The rest of you quickly agreed to keep an eye out, you and JJ claiming the high ground (JJ copied Obi Wan, don’t you fret) which left Cleo, Pope, and Kie to monitor down below. 

“Not quite our dream vacation, huh?” You joked as you followed JJ up the path so you could gain a better view. 

JJ scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe. Warm weather, interesting views, an unfamiliar location. Sounds dreamy to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his wording. “Sure. Interesting views my ass. I love looking at stray animals and getting slammed into for trying to walk from Point A to Point B. And there’s no time for me and you.”

“Hey, rumour has it, if you find the Blue Crown, you get a wish,” He offered as you guys came to a stop up on a bridge. 

You leaned against the stone to face him with a smirk. “Oh, is that what they say now?” You asked, feigning your obliviousness. 

JJ shrugged, closing the gap between you with each step closer. “It’s the legend, after all,” He hummed, his thumb resting on your lip gently before he leaned down to kiss you. “I’ll wish for us to go on the best vacation ever, how ‘bout that? No interruptions… just me and my soon-to-be wife.”

The title made you shiver and you laughed quietly, eyes closing as you kissed him again with a satisfied hum. JJ’s fingers squeezed your sides gently as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. Your back dug into the stone behind you, not that you were paying attention in the slightest to it.

“Let’s hear it, pretty girl. What’s your wish?” He asked quietly, his eyes staring into yours with interest. 

You smiled at him and shook your head. “If I tell you, it’s not gonna come true.”

JJ forced a pout into his lip when you wouldn’t play along. “But I shared mine!”

Shaking your head, you kissed him again, nearly folding when he bit your lip gently. “You’d vote for a truck, babe. Suspension, LED, nice rims. All the bells and whistles.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter if you’re not going to be in the passenger seat.”

You tilted your head at him. “Who said my name won’t be stitched in the seat in the first place?”

The two of you were blissfully unaware of what was going on behind you until JJ’s eyes drifted for a split second and he caught sight of someone familiar. “Hey, that’s one of the Corsairs that kidnapped me and brought me on the ship.”

You frowned when you caught sight of the man he was referring to. JJ moved quickly, taking the spare pipe he’d found to bang on the cannon that was there for show, the noise echoing around you. Pope looked up, before knocking on the barrel with the ore Cleo had found for their use.

Their attempt at signaling John B and Sarah was interrupted by Arabic chanting across the space. Tilting your head in confusion, you looked over at JJ, who was clearly annoyed.

“It’s the call to prayer,” He answered your unspoken question. 

It didn’t settle right in your chest that you had no way of alerting John B and Sarah of the man’s presence and you definitely needed to act quickly to fix it. Pope and Cleo stared back at you before you groaned to yourself. Kie, however, had different plans and explained something to the duo near her before giving you a thumbs up.

“What’s she doing?” You asked the rhetorical question, watching as the curly haired girl maneuvered her way through the crowd and purposefully bumped into the mercenary you were watching. When her hand landed on his arm, your jaw dropped. “Oh, shit.”

“Flirting with danger, nice move Kie,” JJ spoke quietly, keeping his head ducked down slightly so he was harder to see. You lounged above, trying to act as subtle as possible while keeping a close eye on your friend. 

Noticing the call to prayer had ended, Pope grabbed the ore to bang against the empty barrel, the sound bouncing its way around the area and hopefully reaching John B and Sarah.

“There they are!” You said as you caught sight of the couple moving about on the boat. Kie started waving her arms wildly as the mercenary began to leave her, clearly not buying her distraction any longer. “Shit, J, let’s go!”

You darted down the path you’d taken up here, taking the turns as fast as you could to get to your brother faster. JJ apparently wasn’t satisfied with your speed and moved around you. “Be careful!”

“I know!”

You watched, horrified, as he grabbed another nearby ore and managed to collide with the mercenary, causing the gunshot to miss completely. JJ winced shortly after, his hand grabbing his side and you cursed yourself for not even thinking about fixing his injury when he’d showed up on the beach yesterday. 

“Kie!” You called out for your friend as you ran over to JJ who was scooping the discarded gun off the ground. Pope was heading in the direction of Sarah and John B, but Cleo was nowhere to be found. Kiara accepted your hug instantly, her hands shaking with adrenaline as the two of you caught up to JJ. 

The question of Cleo’s location was answered with a car horn as the girl came flying around the bend in an open air truck. You laughed at her timing, all of you meeting and practically falling into the car with zero coordination.

“How did you get this?” Pope asked as he flung into the seat next to her. 

“I stole it!”

A scream almost slipped out as she took off and you nearly fell into Kiara completely, the two of you trying to balance with the sharp motion. JJ was on your other side, yelling at Cleo to floor it as if she wasn’t speeding already. 

When you made it out of the crowded wharf area, you breathed a sigh of relief and moved forward to shove your head between your brother and Sarah. “You guys okay?” You asked, your hand squeezing the back of John B’s neck. You nearly gagged at the sweat on his skin and wiped your hand off on his shirt with a huff.

“We’re okay, we’re okay,” Sarah repeated as she tried to catch her own breath, her fingers tangled with John B’s on the seat between them.

Sliding back into your seat, you whistled at the events that just occurred. “This is only the beginning, y’all. Hope you’re ready.”

JJ laughed next to you, his arm coming to rest across your shoulders to pull you into his side so he could kiss your temple. 

“Let’s do this shit.”

--

a/n: sorry she's a lil short but we're goin into the craziness 🥴

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

[sundrop-writes]

Hi! I love your works! I saw your request are open, so I was wondering if I could ask how would Spencer react to the reader fainting into his arms?

I love this request so much. As a POTSie, this is really close to my heart - and idk if this was your intention or not, but I decided to make it that the reader has POTS.

Requests are OPEN

How would Spencer Reid react to you fainting around him?

Warnings: Reader's gender is not described - reader is gender neutral; the reader's looks are not really described either; the reader faints due to a pre-existing medical condition; the reader is mentioned to have POTS; this is Spencer during his Professor era; the reader is also a Professor at the University that Spencer teaches at; this fic uses Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); the reader loses consciousness completely and Spencer attends to them to make sure they are okay; some light fluff/romance; I think that's it? Not really proofread. This could be described as hurt/comfort (I found it very comforting to write) - even if you aren't chronically ill, I encourage you to read and enjoy!!!

...

Spencer didn’t really know you.

Since he had started teaching at the university, he had seen you around many times, and a face like yours - someone as gorgeous as you definitely stuck out in his mind. But he had never formally introduced himself. He could have used the excuse that he was busy preparing his lectures, and racing back and forth to the BAU between those lectures. But even if he hadn't spoken to you, he had been admiring you from afar for a long time. 

That was why, when he found a notebook that belonged to you sitting on one of the benches on the quad, he didn’t hesitate to bring it to your office. It needed to be returned to its rightful owner, and that owner was someone he had been secretly admiring for some time now. It was the perfect excuse to introduce himself to you. He thought that sitting on the notebook when he went outside to take his morning coffee break could be considered fate. Especially when he flipped open the cover, looking for some sign of who it belonged to, and he saw your name written on it. 

(Did he also flip through the rest of the pages, seeing the poems you had written, along with some beautiful sketches of birds and stills of flowers, and felt his stomach stir even more, realizing that he was falling for you before even talking to you? Maybe. He would have denied it, though.) 

He knocked on your door late, on his way out for the day, hoping that you were still there, and he was surprised to find the hinge creaking open underneath his fist. 

“Hello?” He called out. “Professor L/N?” 

“Oh, come in!” You called back. 

Spencer walked in and found the room to be a mess of papers - many open file boxes scattered about the room, with papers scattered everywhere in an utter hurricane of paper. 

You were focused on the file box in front of you, a frown knit across your brows as you flipped through them one by one, clearly intently looking for something. 

“I’m sorry.” Spencer apologized. “Is this a bad time?” 

“Oh, uh-” You finally looked up from your searching, and when you locked eyes with Spencer, you were surprised to find a doe-eyed, curly-haired, incredibly attractive man standing in the middle of your messy office. “I’m sorry. I- you’re that FBI guy, right? Reid?” 

You ignored his question in favor of being introduced to him properly - you had heard his name from the mouths of other people; gossip from your colleagues about how a real FBI profiler would be teaching a class about the psychology of serial killers and profiling. 

“Yes.” Spencer nodded. “I’m Doctor Spencer Reid. But you can call me Spencer, if you prefer.” 

“Spencer.” You repeated back, grinning at him. “I’m Professor L/N, as you said. But you can call me Y/N.” 

“Well, Y/N, I just came to return this.” Spencer explained, reaching into his bag and pulling out your notebook. 

Your eyes instantly lit up at the sight of it. 

“Oh my gosh.” You gasped quietly. “Thank you so much.” You took it back, giving him a grateful smile. “I don’t even know where my head is today, I-” 

Spencer gave a small grin as he followed your gaze around the mess you had created in your office. 

“I know this looks chaotic, but…” You looked for an excuse. “A student asked me for a copy of an essay they wrote a few years ago as a reference for their thesis. And I thought I had everything well organized. But - apparently my head is just not on very straight.” 

The forgetfulness, and your inability to go through the files in an efficient way - the lack of focus, it was only compounded by your pre-existing condition. Which was only made worse by the fact that you had forgotten to eat lunch, and it was well past dinner time now. 

“Oh, that’s completely understandable.” Spencer chuckled. “I can help you look through some of these if you want?” 

Your hands were shaking as you grasped the notebook and as Spencer became blurry in your vision - you thought about going to sit down in your office chair for a break after it was too late. 

“Y/N?” 

He became worried when you didn’t respond, when the expression on your face became more distant and he noticed your lips paling from a healthy color. 

In the next moment, you were falling. 

Spencer rushed to catch you, his instincts kicking in - everything in his body screaming that he needed to keep you from hitting the floor, that he needed to keep you safe. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, and the other arm wrapped around the middle of your back - he was surprised by how heavy your body felt when you were purely dead weight, your body entirely limp as you went completely unconscious, your eyes rolling into the back of your head in a scary way. 

He knelt down slowly, taking you down to the floor in the most gentle way possible, not wanting to drop you accidentally and have you hit your head because of his incompetence. The more the seconds ticked on and your eyelids stayed limp, your lips almost purple and your mouth gaped - the more his own heart thumped in his chest with intense fear. 

“Hey, hey, come on.” He continued to cradle your head with one hand, but now that you were mostly resting on the floor, he moved his other arm from your back to gently rub across your cheek - hoping to rouse you back to consciousness. “Come on, stay with me. Y/N. Wake up. Please?” 

He gently tapped your cheek, no where close to slapping you - but hoping to stimulate your nervous system with touch in some way. 

A huge breath of relief sucked through his chest when your eyelids started flickering and your eyes began moving around, clearly searching for something in the room as you regained consciousness. You let out a moan, trying to form words, and Spencer put a gentle hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. Just relax.” He told you, trying to keep his voice calm - trying not to betray any of the anxiety that he was truly feeling. 

His first instinct was to call an ambulance - obviously you needed medical attention. What had happened to you? What if it was something serious? 

And while he was patting down his pockets for his phone, you let out another moan and lifted one of your limp arms, drawing his attention to the jingle of a medical alert bracelet on your arm. 

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and moved to grab the pendant on the bracelet, reading it carefully. 

Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome 

There was an emergency number listed, but it wasn’t 9-1-1 - Spencer had to guess that it was a family member of yours, or a doctor. So he had to guess that calling an ambulance wasn’t the thing to do. The condition sounded familiar to him - he read medical journals on occasion because he found them to be mentally engaging, and - because of occasions like this; if he could use the information to help someone. 

He remembered that it was a condition in which the autonomic nervous system fails to regulate blood flow, resulting in fainting when too much blood pools in the legs. So elevating the legs can help a person with the condition regain consciousness easier. 

Spencer hated to rest your head on the hardness of the floor, but he rushed to take off his blazer, and folded it up to put it underneath your head as a makeshift pillow, and then he looked around frantically - and the only good thing he could find were the file boxes. He stacked a few of them and brought them closer, and then situated your legs so they were elevated up on top of the boxes, above your prone body. 

He took your hand and held it - again, simply out of instinct. Wanting you to know that he was there with you while you lingered on the edge of consciousness. But with his helpful first aid, it wasn’t long then - only a minute or two - before your eyes blinked open more confidently and you tried to sit up. 

“Hey, take it easy.” Spencer implored, pushing you gently to lay back down. “Just rest for a few minutes, okay?” 

Usually - you would have rushed to become upright again, even if it was against medical advice. But something about Spencer’s presence was gentle and soothing, and you found yourself actually listening to him. 

“Sorry,” You muttered out, the word practically turning into a slur on your lips - your face tingling and numb as the blood slowly migrated back to your head. “I - I didn’t mean to s-scare you.” 

“You did scare me a little bit.” Spencer chuckled. “Hopefully next time I see you, you don’t end up on the floor.” 

“Well, my condition gets b-better when I eat s-salty foods.” You remarked, telling him the truth about the medical advice you had been given, feeling bold to let this roll into a flirty opportunity. “Maybe you could t-take me to dinner-r next time?” 

Spencer grinned down at you, and let out a light laugh. 

“Sounds like a date.” 

...

A/N: I have to say that this was so comforting for me to write. The amount of times in my life that I have fainted and been terrified, or I have been berated by the people around me for ‘faking’ it when I was feeling incredibly ill and barely conscious. If I fainted and I woke up to Spencer holding my hand and treating me so well like this - I would feel so relaxed and comforted. This was so amazing for me to write, and did help to heal a small fraction in the huge lifetime of medical trauma that I have.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

[a66-1]

starving.

Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.

Part 1 | ???

TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen. (these tw are for the whole thing, im pretty sure this is gonna be a series)

a/n: hey. if you need help, dm me. ill talk to you if you need it :). (also i made my banners. if you want one dm me! i make them for free, just with credit :)) NOT PROOF READ

i hope your doing okay honey.

Stepping out of the shower, the towel around you just big enough to touch ends is slipped around yourself. Showering is getting harder. You can barely stand glancing at the mirror now.

You dry yourself off, and hand the towel back up. You can do it, just walk past the mirror to grab your clothes.

You take the steps past the mirror, and turn your back to the mirror to change. Slipping your bra on, and it squishes the skin on your back and you grimace.

Once your dressed, you turn back around. The nagging voices are just waiting to pounce. I mean, what? You used to be so skinny.

You used to be pretty.

You decided to let your hair air dry, and you walk into your bedroom. You had work today, but you really wish you didn't. It was a bad week, you'd skipped 3 meals in the last few days and you know what your therapist would say.

'The progress you've made, hun. You can't go back now.'

The bad days are getting too close to each other now. You used to have at least a week between them, but now it's barely 48 hours. Maybe being off medicine isn't working good anymore.

Maybe you're no good.

You throw in a big hoodie, one that covers you, and some sweat pants, glancing at the big mirror in your room.

You can't stop analyzing yourself.

There's not one good thing on you is it?

Fuck.

The rest of the day was spent at your stupid 9-5, with your stupid boss, in your stupid, lonely life. Christ, being off anti-depressants is really hitting you hard. Everyone at your job is stupid and today every customer who wants to blow you ear off about how you kids these days, by the end of the day, your so tense that your shoulders are aching.

You got about 30 minutes left at this off-brand kroger store, when a big, big ass man walks in, shoving a mask with a skull print on it on. You curse to yourself, you really don't want to have to call the police for a robbery, you just want to go home.

To be honest, if he had a gun, you'd be half tempted to let him shoot you-

"Ma'am?" A heavy British accent came from your right. You turn your head, and scan his few items. You don't bother with the how are you's and you sigh.

"It'll be 16.84." You drag your eyes to his, and he reaches to his pocket, pulling out..

A wallet. What else were you thinking?

He hands you a twenty, and you hand him his respective change. He bags his own items, because honestly, you seem like the only worker in the store. Your face is written with exhaustion, whether it be from this job or something else, and the guy notices.

"Have uh... A good day." He nods to you, and walks off.

You purse your lips, and sigh, closing your cashier, because fuck finishing today. You're too close to a breakdown, and you're not trying to let anyone see.

You drive home, your hands tight around the wheel. You know it's a bad idea to be driving this emotional, to the point you wonder what would happen if you swerve your car into a tree.

You won't do it though.

You need to get back out there. It's why you stopped taking your meds.

You promise yourself that tomorrow you'll go out, and at least get a one night stand, you want need, anything.

Once home and in bed, you scroll and scroll and scroll. Doom scrolling is too common on these longer nights. You have a pillow tucked into your arm, and your hand squeezes it every time that pang in your lower chest rings out. Loneliness, you think.

You always scroll through your old friends instagrams or snapchats, seeing their nice bodies and nice boyfriends. You've been so nice and kind and karma should be on your side, but it always failed.

Especially after your last boyfriend.

Your friends say to wait.

To wait.

To wait.

But waiting is getting harder. Days are getting longer, and your head seems to spin more when left to its own devices. Why do you have to wait?

Your looks.

Your personality.

Who'd wanna be seen with you?

You flip your phone over, and shove your face in the pillow, your breathing staggered.

You fell asleep late, that night. The tears brought you to exhaustion.

woah why did this take 2 tries to write.

be waiting for pt.2

TRUST FINALS ARE SOOM COMING TO AN END and summer i will be STEWING TRUST!!!

Taglist!

@i-am-hungry-24-7

thank you for all the support. drunk simon blew up and im crying bc i came back after a 2 year hiatus and i wasn't getting the same feedback as usual so to finally seeing people enjoy my work again makes me feel great. <3

sorry simon wasn't in this part much. you gotta know the reader first tho, right?

bye babes..

-a661

[delimeats-000]

HANDS OBSESSED READER WITH CHRIS ‼️ like shes always caught looking at his hands, messing with them, etc. and chris finally does something abt it 😼

YESSS, ofc. hope you like it!

Hands

summary: chris makes your dreams, of his hands, a reality

warnings: smut, language

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

key: chris - y/n

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“fuck chris keep going. chris im gonna-“

“Y/n?”

chris’ voice snaps me out of the trance that only his hands can put me in. fuck, those hands, what i wouldn’t give to have them wrapped around-

“Y/n? Hellooo?”

fuck.

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear me?”

“No.” i say smiling.

“I asked if you’ve seen this movie before.”

“No, looks good tho.”

“It is, imma put it on.”

“Sounds good.”

his eyes focus back on the tv, mine move back to his hands.

his big, veiny, strong, rough-

“Ok, whats up?”

“Huh?”

“You keep spacin out.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Yeah.” he nods his head, “Why?”

i dont know if i should tell him. if i do maybe he’ll finally use them on me.

“My hands?”

fuck i didn’t even realize i was staring again.

“I- well yeah. But not-” his finger lands underneath my chin lifting up my head to face him.

“What were you thinking I do with these hands?”

“I don’t- I dont know.” i didn’t know what to say.

“How bout, I give you some options?” he says slowly with a slight smile.

i nod my head.

his right hand remains on my chin, while his left lands on my waist rubbing back and forth.

“Does that jog your memory?”

“No, I think you should keep trying.”

“What about this.” his right hand moves toward the nape of my neck and pulls me closer.

him and i nearly inches apart. my breath hitches and i try not to look in his hunger glazed eyes, he scoffs at me.

“Aww, poor baby. It’s ok, we’re gonna make your day dreams come true.” his hand moves to my face once more, this time resting on my cheek as he leans in and kisses me softly.

his left hand moving further down my back reaching to my ass then the back of my thighs then he stops.

“How am I doing, baby?”

“Good, great. Consider my memory jogged.”

he kisses down my neck then stops suddenly.

“Oh yeah? I’ll just stop then.”

“No no no, please.”

“Please what baby?”

“Please keep going.”

“Ok.” he shrugs.

his hands lay in the same places, but he slowly moves down, positioning them to lift me up and into his lap.

i breathe in sharply and i can feel my eyes widen with every small movement. as soon as he noticed he begins grinding his hips against me. placing his lips on mine rough, and starving.

he flips me onto my back getting on top, his left hand meets my throat.

“Can I keep going? I’ll make you feel good, promise.” he says leaning in towards me.

“Yes, fuck chris. Keep going.”

he kisses me again, one time before then untying my sweats and pulling them down toward my knees.

his right hand moves down my stomach and up again to massage my boobs before then going back down to reach my panties.

he moves further downward fingertips meeting my wet folds.

i shudder under the touch i’ve only ever dreamed of.

“You ok?”

“Yeah. Uh could you, could you just put them in me already.”

“Manners baby.” his voice lowers while his fingers rub my clit just barely. “Then, maybe ill finger fuck you. That’s what you’re focused on right?”

i let out a moan, more of a whimper really. “Chris, please. Stop teasing.”

he shoves his fingers inside of me abruptly. “Good manners.”

two of his fingers move in and out of me, curling with every send. he then rubs my clit with the pad of my while leaning over and kissing right on my pelvis

“Shit, Im really close, chris. Right there.”

“C’mon baby, cum on my fingers for me.”

“Fuck fuck, CHRIS.”

then i feel it. the knot in my lower stomach coming completely undone all over the hand ive fantasized about since the day i met chris.

he takes his fingers out bringing them to his lips and licking them clean off.

“Oh beautiful, you taste amazing.” he groans over the cream covering his long slender fingers. “So.” he stands up, lifting me to sit up and get comfortable.

“How was that, just like you imagined?”

“Better.”

“Good. Let’s watch my movie now.”

“No no. It’s your turn now.” i say pulling up my pants and getting on my knees.

he sits down on the bed where i was. “Oh, yes please.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

pt. 2??? lmk, love you🫶🏼

edit: pt. 2 out now

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism Boys (+ Taehoon + Wangguk) being ill + YOU looking after them hc

Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo, Jake Kim, Vin Jin, Johan Seong, Seong Taehoon, Han Wangguk

Gun Park

He is self-sufficient to the core.

Does not need any looking after.

You offer to run out and buy medicine? No need, he is stocked better than a pharmacy.

Reminders to hydrate? He's had 2 litres already and it's not even midday.

You don't need to tell him to rest, his body is his temple and he takes the utmost care.

Some homemade food though? Oh. Well. You can't buy homemade.

Him lying all fever brained on your lap as you watch TV or whatever? That's not so bad neither.

You running a bath for him? Thanks. That's thoughtful.

Huh, he thinks maybe it's not so bad relying on someone other than himself.

Goo Kim

Clingy and fussy-

But you knew that already, being his partner.

Treats you as his hot water bottle one moment, the next will kick you away saying he's too warm.

He expects to be babied, and he expects your full attention. So please drop everything and tend to him now.

If you could also run your fingers through his hair and let him lie on you for the next few hours, that would also be great.

And if you can put his favourite show on that would also be appreciated.

You trying to watch something else once he's sleeping? No chance. He is wide awake and pouting at you.

At least he will give you the same treatment when you're ill.

Samuel Seo

Samuel is not ill.

How dare you imply he is in anything but peak physical condition

That's not a cough, that's not a sniffle, and he is not flushed.

There's something wrong with the thermometer, he is fine.

Nothing is wrong with his voice (as he slowly loses it through the day...)

Will take a lot of persuading and convincing to rest up

"Yes, there will be other people to pick up your work. And no, it's not a personal slight to say that you are sick."

You have to pry his laptop and tablet and phone from his fingers.

Of course, that's easy. His strength is waning in his current state.

"Shhh Sammy, go to bed." Tuck him in. lay next to him, pet his hair.

He'll soon be napping next to you, holding you tight.

Jake Kim

Also complete denial at first.

He is the head of Big Deal, he cannot be sick.

That SINU! sneeze is not a front. That is actually how he sneezes.

Phelgm and snot everywhere. It's pretty repulsive to be honest.

After one too many sneezes, and everyone flinching the hell away from him, Jerry carries him home to you.

Wants to be babied, wants to be fussed, wants your complete attention.

Goes about it in a slightly less obnoxious way, but he's so adorable, even trying to give you a wink in his current state so you can't say no.

Pads around the home following you, blanket wrapped around him, tissue shoved up his nose.

Might as well give up whatever you're doing and tend to your boyfriend.

But Jake would absolutely do the same for you.

Vin Jin

This fucking guy-

Demanding and a little shit.

If you let him, he would take absolute full advantage.

Would run you in circles doing things for him.

"Y/N I want some water, Y/N where's my medicine, Y/N I need some chocolate, Y/N I need a burger." "What?? Shouldn't you eat something.. healthier?" "No babe, the body wants what it wants."

Will flop all over you, lying on your lap, your chest. Partly because he finds you comforting, partly because he's a little asshole.

"Sing me a lullaby" "Uh... ok." You sing. "Actually, no shut up babe you sound like shit."

Once he falls asleep, his breath laboured and cheeks flushed, you can't help but think ok, he's pretty cute. Only when unconscious though.

Will still keep his sunglasses on the whole time. "Just in case someone ambushes me." "WHO?!"

Johan Seong

Way too ill and low in energy to put up any of his usual defenses. Will revert back to a little meow meow.

You are absolutely not allowed out of sight.

In fact, you are not allowed out of arm's reach.

Will cling to you like a koala, that is a fact.

Actually, you might as well all stay in bed, Eden and Miro included because you are guaranteed to not get anything done.

Even cooking is only a possibility. Hopefully you have all medicine stocked, and some decent, cheap, healthy take-outs nearby.

Because if Johan wakes up from his nap and you're not there, he will be sulking for a year straight.

The only excuse?

"Johan, I need to walk Eden and Miro." grumble grumble "Ok... but be back quick?"

Seong Taehoon

The grumpiest babygirl you have ever seen.

It's a goddamn good job you love him because my god, this guy!

Equal parts bad-tempered and clingy

A bit like how he usually is, to be honest, but turned up to the MAX.

Go away, you're crowding him one second, he's all up in your face wanting cuddles the next.

And the fact that he's not allowed to train?

Good lord, don't anger it further. It's not like he's in any fit state to train anyway but he will still be fuming about it.

No Taekwondo, no arcade. He might as well just DIE.

At least he's still got his other favourite thing - you. This placates him a little.

Han Wangguk

Wangguk does not get sick, Wangguk is the caretaker.

Other people get ill and he looks after them.

"No, seriously, Wangguk. You're burning up. Go back to bed!"

Needs a lot of goading to actually rest. Even then, he doesn't fully rest.

He keeps a watchful eye over you, just in case you need him.

After he gets used to it? Absolutely loves it.

You making some food for him, grabbing him medicine, gentle cuddles, forehead smooches, even taking care of Gyeoul?!

He really could get used to this.

Is a puddle, constantly leaning on you and wanting to be close.

After this, he always enjoys being ill. Only a tad. It's a way for him to be spoilt guilt-free by you.

[scarletlizzard]

Part 2: Remembering

Sessions Series

Pairing: psychiatrist Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: therapy, paranoia, mentions of mental illness, stalker, little cigarettes and drinking at the end

Masterlist

Current Fall 2018

"How did you sleep?" Wanda asks as she sits in front of you. You shrug, putting your hands in the pocket of your hoodie.

"Not too great. I uh, I sometimes have these dreams. Nightmares really, about that night." You swallow hard and look at the breathtaking woman in front of you. Even casual, in a yellow sweater and jeans, she would always be the most beautiful woman in the room. You blush at your own thoughts.

"You said you don't remember everything about that night?" She asks, you nod. "I believe you're blocking it out, mentally. Suppressing a trauma so hard you can't get yourself to open back up about it."

"So you believe me?"

"Of course, I believe you." Her tone is wavering.

"Every time I have one of these dreams, it reveals little pieces to me," you lean forward. "Maybe I can remember who it was, or more about them."

"But they were wearing a mask?" Wanda asks, making a note. You nod.

"They spoke to me, though.. I'm not sure. Sometimes they feel so close," you sigh, shaking your head. Wanda is still writing.

"And what did your shadow say to you?"

"They told me to run."

Wanda is silent for a moment, her eyes searching yours for something. Did she really believe you? When she had a list of your mental disorders and police forms at her fingertips?

"When your shadow told you to run," She stands and looks to the fire that was burning behind her in the fireplace. Her hands held behind her back. "What did you feel in the moment? What was your first thought?"

"I-I didn't know what to feel. Panic? Fear?" Your cheeks heat up, as you think back to the haunting voice. You were almost too embarrassed to speak. "But after, after the fear sunk in it felt.. exhilarating."

Wanda smiles at the fire, her back still to you. "So in your fear you felt, excitement. For what, why?" She asks thoughtfully, and you're thankful she still had her back to you.

You had thought about this a long time, every day. Why? "My life is the same, every day. The routines, the job, the same bottle of wine. Everything. You know I used to paint?" You ask Wanda. She turns to look at you.

"Really?" She asks with a smile, sitting back down.

"I had some work in an art gallery actually, in the city. Back when I felt.. more alive," you sigh again, looking into her emerald eyes.

"What made you stop?"

"My mom got sick, I had to take care of her. Then she died and I moved here and.. things were never the same."

"Your OCD intensified, essentially trapping yourself in your daily routines."

"That's how it feels, yes," you reply with a nod. Wanda reaches her hand out to rest on your knee. Your skin ignites under her touch.

"We'll bring you back," Wandas words are sure, you find yourself resting your hand on top of hers.

***

Summer 2017

You ran throughout your house, footsteps following close behind you. Before you can close the door to your bedroom, a strong hand reaches out, hitting the wood hard and swinging it wide open. You fall to the ground, heart racing, chest moving rapidly as you crawl backwards. Your shadow steps closer, taking 4 heavy steps towards you.

Another head tilt down at you, examining you. Behind the mask, under the hood, red strands of hair peak out.

***

Current Fall 2018

You stared at the brunette in front of you, a playful glint in her eye. "What?" She asks, leaning forward.

It had been a couple of weeks since your sessions with Wanda had started. Your anxiety had taken a backseat, and the compulsive thoughts in your head were easing. The two of you had even been flirting back and forth even, lingering stares and touches.

Wanda knew it was unprofessional. You knew it wasn't right. But neither of you couldn't help it. Each time she touched you, you felt your skin ignite. Each crooked smile ran up your spine with a shiver of pleasure. You look at her hands and count 4 rings between the two of them.

"Nothing, I really shouldn't say," you chuckle to yourself and sit back against the couch. Wanda grins, twirling one of the rings on her finger.

"No point in being shy now, Y/N. We practically know each others whole lives at this point," She says casually and mirrors you, leaning back in her chair. You think about her words.

"Actually, I don't know much about you, Wanda. I mean, I know some details, but you seem to have the upper hand."

She chuckles and lifts out a hand as if offering to you, "Ask away."

"Where are you from? I notice on some of your words, there's an accent." There's a blush on your face as you think of the way she says your name, her tongue sharp.

"Ah, you caught that, huh? I was born in Sokovia. I've lived here most of my life, though, the American accent kind of snuck in," Wanda thinks fondly of her home, it makes you smile.

"Do you visit often?"

"Not as much as I'd like. Last year, I had to go home for quite a while to help out my brother, Pietro. He got himself into some trouble," Wanda sighs and shakes her head. "We're twins," she smiles.

"Twins! Wow, I'd love to see a picture of the two of you sometime." You think of Wanda being a twin, not being able to imagine he was anything like her. She nods and crosses her legs.

"I'll see if I can find one for your next session," She says with a smile. You nod and smile back politelty.

"What did you do before all this?" You ask her and point to the room around you.

"I lived in the city for a while, actually. But I found something more... worthwhile here." Wanda grins, goosebumps on your arm arise.

There's a comfortable silence, and the fire behind her crackles softly.

"Tell me more about your art," Wanda says, a glimmer in her eye and a warm smile on her face.

"I wasn't good, by any means. But I wasn't bad. I was creative, if anything," you laugh as you think back to your paintings. "There is one hung still, I think, at the gallery I told you about. It's my favorite one. My last one."

"What was it?"

You find yourself laughing hysterically as you think of the painting, leaving Wanda confused. She leans forward to rest a hand on your knee.

You start to sob at her touch.

You think of the large painting that hangs in a gallery. People passing by not realizing it would foreshadow your own current state.

"It's of a beautiful woman.." You speak between cries.

"A woman running from her own shadow."

***

Summer 2017

"What do you want from me? Just leave me alone!" You shout at the figure standing above you, watching as they shake their head.

The shadow kneels down, a gloved hand reaching up to brush their thumb across your lips. Their eyes are hidden behind the white faceless mask, yet you can feel their gaze burning into you.

A spark of adrenaline and excitement fill your own.

"Game on," your shadow says.

***

Current Winter 2018

You awoke quickly in sweat covered sheets, thunder rumbling from outside. You rub your groggy eyes and reach for the nightstand to flick on the lamp. Your hand reaches for the notebook and pen you kept for this reason, and you began writing down your dream.

They were happening more frequently now. The details are becoming clearer each time. You had never felt so close. You were closing in on your shadow.

Yet, everything felt wrong. There was something you were missing. You read and re read the journal the rest of the night.

"How are things going with Wanda?" Natasha asks over lunch. She had invited you out today, hoping to hear some good news.

"Pretty great, actually," you smile at her, not telling her that you were still chasing your shadow. "I've actually started painting again." You look outside the window of the Cafe, seeing snow begin to fall.

"Have you really?" Natasha says in disbelief, but a smile on her face. "I knew this would be good for you! Almost two months and look at the progress you've made.." She beams at you, a guilty feeling rising inside of you.

"I'm having my Christmas party early this year, I'm going to spend actual Christmas at Yelenas this year. You'll be able to come, right?"

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it," you smile, counting 4 snowflakes land on the window.

As you walk home from lunch, the snow beneath your feet crunches with every step. You wrap your arms around yourself, wishing you had worn a warmer jacket, when suddenly you're aware of another set of steps from behind you.

You freeze, standing still. You inhale deeply, then exhale, and slowly turn around... to nothing. Empty air besides the light snow that stuck to the ground below.

Your hand reaches for your phone, dialing Wandas number. "Hello?" She answers on the 4th ring.

"Wanda.. can I come see you?"

"Do you need me to meet you somewhere?"

You look around, still seeing no one.

"No, I'll come to you."

You finish the walk home and grab your notebook and a warmer jacket before driving over to Wandas. When you get there, she's standing on the porch waving to you.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" She asks worridly, putting her arm around you and leading you into the warmth of her home. Wanda gets a fire going and watches as you sit on the floor in front of it. Instead of questioning it, she sits next to you, her warm body pressed next to you.

"What if it isn't real?" You finally admit, staring into the red and orange flames.

"What if what isn't real?" Wanda asks, looking at the notebook you clutched to your chest.

"My shadow," you whisper, feeling Wandas hand on your back. "You told me you believed me.. what do you believe?"

There is a silence between the two of you while Wanda sighs. She knew you would eventually ask this question.

"I believe that the mind is an extremely powerful thing. It's capable of persuasion and delusions. It can hide the truth from you.." she trails off, tears fall from your eyes.

She didn't believe your shadow was real.

"You believe... that I believe it's real. Right?" You ask and turn to her. Wanda nods slowly.

All this time spent chasing and running, you were tired. How many innocent people would have to get hurt before you gave up? How many more lies would you have to tell yourself and others?

You held out the notebook to Wanda. Her fingers brush against yours as she takes it from you and opens it up.

"My dreams, of a faceless shadow. That's all it is anymore. I'm done chasing it."

The rest of November passes quickly into December. You were back to your routine, ignoring the paranoid delusions of your mind. You continued your sessions with Wanda, trying to figure out why you had imagined up this person. You took medication. You still locked all the doors and windows. You painted. You dreamed.

***

Summer 2017

When the words came out of your shadows' mouth, you lift your leg, kicking them hard in the stomach and onto their back. You're able to run past them into the hallway, but you're quickly knocked down. Your shadow climbs on top of you, pinning your hands to the floor and straddling your stomach.

The two of you breathe heavily, adrenaline coursing your veins. "Such a pretty little mouse.." The shadow whispers.

***

Winter 2018

The party has long started by the time you walk in, a bottle of rum in your hand. The house is filled with familiar and unfamiliar faces. People in ugly Christmas sweaters, some in just red or green. You look for Natasha and wish her a Happy Christmas, along with a hug.

"I brought rum," you smile, holding up the bottle.

"Yes! Ugh, you know this is my favorite thank you," she laughs and hugs you again, clearly has already had a few. You decide to catch up with her, taking a few shots and pouring a cup of rum. After a while, the cup is empty, and you find yourself sweating in the heated house, filled with warm bodies.

"I'm gonna step outside," you say to Natasha, who is all but preoccupied with the girl in her lap.

You step out front, sighing in relief as the frigid air hits your skin.

"Alright, there?" A voice sounds, you turn to see Wanda standing in the driveway, leaning against her car. "Nasty habit, I know. I usually only smoke when I drink." She holds up the cigarette, letting out a puff of smoke.

You walk over, soaking in her appearance. "I'm alright.. alcohol goes straight to my head," You chuckle and stand in front of her. The alcohol also boldening you to reach out and take the cigarette from her, putting it between your lips. Wanda watches with playful eyes, putting a hand in her pocket. You take a slow drag, blowing into the air between you and handing it back to her.

Wanda wets her lips, shaking her head as she takes it back from you. "You're something else, you know that?" She says in a husky voice. You can smell a hint of vodka and mint coming from her as she leans closer. Your hands rest on her chest, tugging on her jacket. A familiar excitement swells in your chest.

The cigarette is tossed into the wet snow, her hands moving to wrap around your lower back. "I'm probably crazy," you whisper to her, a smirk on your face. Wanda chuckles and leans closer.

"I can deal with crazy," She whispers back, taking your bottom lip in between her teeth. Your blood runs hot, and you let out a small moan at the feeling. Wanda wastes no time connecting her lips to yours, both of you in familiar territory as your tongues sloppily twist together. Her grip is stronger than you remember as she pulls you against her chest.

"Your place?" You mumble into the kiss, not wanting to fully part. Wands hums and continues to kiss you. You feel her lips pull up into another crooked smile.

"Let's go," Wanda says after she finally pulls herself away from your lips, her green eyes darker than you had ever seen them before.

Goosebumps cover your skin. Everything in your body tells you to run. The feeling of your shadow was looming over the two of you.

You look to the house, then to the gorgeous brunette in front of you. There was no doubt in your mind that you would be going home with her.

[murphy-kitt]

Ectober Day 7 - Unearth

Word Count: 3,082

Tags: Corpse AU, Description of Corpse, Mention of Blood & Violence

AO3

Coming to the conclusion that Phantom is the reason for Danny’s withdrawn behaviour, Maddie is forced to face the truth. Her son is dead—and it’s all their fault.

Something is very wrong with her son.

Maddie has observed it for months now, the way that something is not quite right. The frigid air that seems to be radiating from him, the pallid skin, his unblinking blue eyes. At first she thought he might’ve been overshadowed, but that ended up being dismissed as his eyes were still blue.

So, she doesn’t know what it could be. And she supposed the only way to find out is to confront him. She and Jack have given him plenty of months to say something, but to no avail.

“Danny?” Maddie’s breath hitches as she stands outside his bedroom door, her hand resting on the wood. There’s a faint rustling noise and the sound of something slamming.

“Yeah, mom?” Danny’s strained voice.

“Can I come in?” She asks, worried that she’s woken him up. He never seems to get much sleep these days, perpetual layers under his eyes.

“Uh…sure.” Danny’s voice trails off, developing into a hoarse cough. Not just tiredness, but he’s always fatigued and ill.

Maddie yanks the door open, preventing herself from the doubt beginning to form in her mind. She will confront him and she will do it now. Jazz’s voice of ‘giving Danny space’ rings in her head as she shuts the door, facing her son.

Danny is splayed out on his bed, his skin so pale she can even feel the cold radiating from him. A fever, but the opposite?

No.

“Good grief, Danny. You’re hypothermic!” Maddie reaches to press her hand to his forehead. The sudden icy contact makes a chill prickle down her spine.

“Mom! I-” He flinches back, holding his hands up defensively and blinking owlishly. This is the closest she’s gotten to him in months. Have his eyes always had the subtle greeness to them?

“What’s happened to you?” her voice trails off. None of this makes sense. Signs of ghostliness, the cold, the pale skin…yet he is still Danny. He consumes food, grows, goes to school. Doesn’t haunt Amity, or fly, or glow or show any signs of an obsession.

“I–” Danny grimaces, his hand resting on his neck, “I can’t tell you. Not now.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?! You won’t? Or is someone forcing you to stay silent?”

“A bit of both, I suppose.” He shrugs haplessly, and Maddie swears she sees a flicker of neon green. “I want to tell you. So bad. I don’t want to be lik– living like this anymore. It’s not fair. But I don’t know what else to do. Until yo– they see past their beliefs and realise the truth, then I’m stuck.”

“Danny, you need to tell me. Now.” her eyes narrow and Maddie nearly reaches out to shake him by the shoulders. What sort of trouble is he in? Someone’s threatening him to stay silent. She can see the desperation in his eyes. He’s trapped. Her baby boy desperately wants to say something, but is scared to silence.

“Who is it? Who’s threatening you like this? Did you see something?” Maybe he was witness to a crime. Murder? Drugs?

“No, Mom, it’s not like that.” Danny shakes his head, hopping off his bed and trawling across the room. The teen seems almost…dejected? Disappointed?

“Then what is it?” It’s like talking to a wall.

“Until they realise the truth and see how blind they’ve been, I won’t budge.”

“Realise the truth–what do you mean? Who needs to realise they’ve done wrong?” Maddie pleads, the confusion rattling even her scientific brain. The more he talks, the more questions arise and become more enigmatic.

“You, Mom. You and Dad are the ones who are blind.” Danny stares at her with a harshness she didn’t think he was capable of. “And until you see past your beliefs, I won’t tell you anything.”

He turns and walks out the door.

Maddie’s heart shatters.

What have we done?

—

“Get down and face us ghost!” Jack’s shout echoes through the streets of Amity Park, a shot of the bazooka following.

Phantom easily dances away from the shot, which lands and destroys a nearby building. The ghost twists to look at them, green eyes glaring with such ferocity that makes Maddie grip her gun tighter.

“Well I’m sorry that I’d rather not be shot at!” The ghost retorts, slugging a stolen thermos onto its belt. Her and Jack had been patrolling the streets, when in a rare chance, Phantom had been finishing up after another fight. Probably for territory.

“You’ve no other choice!” Maddie shouts back, strengthening her resolve as she surges forward. A green dot reflects on him as she takes perfect aim.

This is it, Maddie. This is all she’s ever wanted. To capture Phantom and stop the ghosts from terrorising Amity Park. At least by doing this, it might offer Danny some respite. He’s terrified of ghosts.

Danny… her prior helplessness returns in waves, making Maddie’s aim on the ghost falter. He stares at her with glowing green eyes, and she stares right back.

Just like Danny, even with a mischievous glower, deep down she can see the tiredness in Phantom’s eyes. That he’s sick of this too.

All the more reason to be rid of him. Her eyes narrow.

“Mads, what’s up?” Jack shouts, distracted from his shot as he turns to look at her and simultaneously fires. The shot veers off into a building, far off kilter from the intended target.

“I’m fine.” Maddie inhales, eyes narrowed. Since when did the air smell so strongly of decay? The stench is sweet and stings the back of her throat.

Holding her breath, Maddie points her ectogun at Phantom again. He’s not done anything, not tried to escape or make stupid remarks. He just remains there.

Floating. Staring.

Staring with those tired eyes.

Phantom floats down a little closer, maybe a foot or so infront of her. The aim on his chest is bright and burning, but Phantom doesn’t seem to care. Bile roses up Maddie’s throat as the smell becomes stronger.

The street is eerily silent, so much so that even Jack has put his gun down, letting it remain useless by his side.

Phantom stares.

“You need to see the truth.”

Just like Danny had said. Rage consumes her. How has he—how does he know what Danny said? She doesn’t know, she doesn’t care.

But now it makes sense. Why has Danny been like this.

Phantom’s been controlling him. Of course Danny wouldn’t say anything when Amity Park’s strongest ghost was threatening him to silence.

She looks at those eyes again. The tired green eyes. Almost pleading.

It’s just a ploy, and you know it.

Without hesitating, she points.

And shoots blankly in the chest.

Green and red everywhere.

—

She goes out at night, the full intention of finding Phantom. He’s downed and weak, lurking somewhere in Amity. It’s unlikely he has any sort of teleportation powers that can send him back to the ghost zone.

Her shot had surely been in close proximity.

In the dark, Maddie stalks the streets, trying best to blend in with the surroundings. She notes the scene of earlier that day, with the ectoplasm dully shining in the night. And then some darker patches, which make her stomach turn.

Ectoplasm and red. Ectoplasm and blood.

It shouldn’t be possible. Is it a trait carried over? If Phantom overshadows Danny for so long does Phantom get Danny’s traits too?

Danny’s got the cold, the tiredness, the green sheen to his eyes.

So Phantom would get blue eyes, warmth, perhaps a heartbeat and red ectoplasm?

Yes. That’s what it is. Phantom’s simply got red ectoplasm. It’s not blood, and the citrusy smell indicates so.

She recalls dinner time, what Danny had said. He’d been strangely reserved this time, much more than usual. He’d clenched a hand to his chest, and eaten very little.

“You deny and deny. It won’t help you. All the signs are laid out for you.”

He’d put his hand on his chest, and it’d been then that Maddie had noticed the branching scar on his left palm, disappearing down his long sleeved shirt.

A lichtenberg figure.

How’d he even get that? She thinks again, wracking her mind. There’s nothing jumping out at her, no accident or event where Danny got injured.

No. Maybe it’s not.

Rethink. Recoup.

Danny isn’t overshadowed. Why would Phantom tell you the exact same thing Danny said if he was overshadowing Danny? That would and did expose his whole scheme—and even for a ghost he’s smarter than that.

Moving away from the scene, she brings out the ghost tracker to try and find where Phantom is. There’s a trace of a powerful ectosignature up in the park.

Bingo. She thinks.

When she arrives at the park, it’s a haunting sight. The skeletons of trees are barely visible by the outline of the moon, and birds and critters chirrup in the distance. And there, on the top of the hill in the midst of the park, is a beacon of a figure.

Phantom. Careful not to bring attention to herself, Maddie puts the ectotracker into a compartment in her jumpsuit, watching the ghost’s every move.

Phantom’s hunched over, his knees tucked up to his chest. His green eyes are the brightest she’s ever seen, gazing up to the stars above. No fighting. No other ghosts.

Just Phantom, the silence and the stars.

“Have you ever thought about what's up there?” Phantom’s voice is just a whisper, yet it fractures the silence of the night.

Maddie freezes, instinctively reaching for an ectogun on her hip. She can’t do that though, not when she’s in the midst of research. What good would it be destroying the ghost that might have a connection her her son?

“You saw me?” The woman instead inquires.

“Of course I did.” Phantom narrows his green eyes before turning to look back at the sky. “Now if you’re gonna shoot me, can you at least get it out of the way or leave? I’m trying to stargaze here.”

“You enjoy stargazing?” She blurts without thinking. A ghost having hobbies? It should be impossible. All ghosts are driven by their obsessions.

Yet, here Phantom is. No other ghosts to fight and now crowds of people to cheer his heroics on.

“Of course I do.” The ghost hmphs , shooting her another fleeting look. Maddie guesses he’s getting testy about her being out of his line of vision.

Fine. She’ll bite just this once.

She’s about to talk when Phantom interrupts.

”You still haven’t realised, have you?” The ghost tilts his head in such a passive way it makes Maddie instinctively go for the ectogun. His smarmy, know-it-all attitude.

”What don’t I know?” She grits, playing along. It’s about Danny, it has to be. How they’re connected.

“You need to figure that one out yourself.” Phantom says dully, expression almost disappointed. “I can’t tell you.”

Clenching her fists, Maddie holds back the instinct to fire her ectogun again. She can’t go destroying Phantom a second time.

Is it just like Danny? That he wants to tell her, but can’t?

“I know my son is too terrified to even speak to me anymore! He was too scared because you’re threatening him.” Maddie narrows her eyes.

Phantom has the audacity to scoff, “You keep telling yourself that, then. You’ll not get anywhere if you think I’m to blame for the reason Danny doesn’t talk.”

Danny said that, too. That her and Jack were to blame for his withdrawal, that they needed to see the truth.

Maddie lets herself slump to the grass, grip on ectogun loosening. For the first time in years, she feels completely stumped.

Phantom hasn’t controlled Danny. He’s not threatened him. So what is Danny’s secret? Why the injuries, the constant absences?

“I just—“ she takes an intake of breath, trying to hold back the tears stinging the corners of her eyes, “I want to know what happened to him. It’s been so long. Danny’s so distant now, and I feel like I can never reach him.”

Out of the corner of her bleary vision, she notices Phantom watching. His posture stiffens, as if in shock.

She supposes such talk of Danny may come as a surprise to his system. After all, Phantom had to have parents once. Perhaps they were the reason for his…early demise.

There’s no doubt Phantom is a similar age to Danny. Perhaps recently dead, even.

“What about your parents?” She finds herself asking.

“Mine?” Phantom blinks, then considers. “Wasn’t one of your main theories that ghosts can’t remember their past lives?”

“Well..” Maddie feels her cheeks flush, before steeling herself, “This is your time to prove me wrong, isn’t it? Do you remember them?”

“Touché. I do.” The ghost pulls his knees up to his chest. “They were kind for the most part. Very aloof, though. Got so carried away with work that sometimes I slipped as their priority.”

And that’s just what she and Jack have done, isn’t it?

“That’s what me and Jack have done to Danny, I think.” The moment the words are out in the night, Maddie feels a sense of relief. She’s admitted it.

Never putting him first, and when she did finally notice it was too far gone. Of course Danny won’t open up to her now, given ghosts have prioritised over the past months.

“Yeah. I think so too.”

“I’m sorry Phantom. That you had to go through that, I mean. And your parents should’ve cared for you. Just like me and Jack should’ve for Danny.” She replies. “I’ll apologise to him tonight.”

The ghost gives her a crooked smile, strangely familiar. “I think he’ll know already that you mean well.”

And with that, Phantom looks back up at the stars, green eyes glimmering with reflections of galaxies. Maddie, feeling intrusive, stands up.

Hesitantly, she backs away, trying not to disturb the ghost.

But then Phantom looks at her over his shoulder. The expression is so strikingly familiar but she doesn’t know why, and stifles it down.

The starry glimmer in his eyes, the freckles sprinkled across his cheeks.

“Have you ever thought about what’s behind the portal?” His voice is gentle, steady. His aura flickers at the edges, brighter and fuzzier.

“No. We’ve never gone into the Ghost Zone.”

“Imagine it’s like the galaxy. There’s like, infinite galaxies. Just going on and on. There’s little pieces too. Sure you know that the ghost zone is through the portal, but have you ever wondered how it worked?”

She doesn’t know if she’s hearing things, but Phantom’s voice is getting weaker. His aura fizzling away like a candle on the last of its wick.

“—did you ever wonder how it switched on? What’s at the end of the endless tunnel?”

She’s not sure what’s going on. Or maybe she does. Phantoms drawling about the portal and she’s sure he’s fading—it doesn’t make sense.

“Why would we need to? We’ve never needed to know what’s behind the portal!” She responds, frazzled, “It’s just a wall.”

The strong scent of decay hits her again, making her stomach flip. It makes her nose burn, head clammy. Maddie presses her hands to her face, spluttering.

The portal. Electricity.

The decay.

“Are you sure?” Phantom's voice is echoey now, distant. “Or have you been so blind that you never saw the truth rotting behind the green?”

When Maddie uncovers her hands, the overpowering smell is gone. As is Phantom.

Only her and the glimmering stars.

—

The litchenberg. Of course.

The portal is the only damned thing in that lab with a voltage strong enough to cause such damage.

Maddie doesn’t even process coming back from the park until she yanks open the house door and runs into the kitchen.

”Mads!” Jack says in surprise, halfway through a packet of fudge, “Where’ve you been?”

Danny. Danny.

He’s in his room, has to be. She ignores Jack, dashing up the stairs, pleading that she won’t find what she thinks.

It can’t be true. None of this is right. Danny’s just...troubled. Sure, something is not right. But it’s none of this mess.

Behind her, Jack’s footsteps thump up the stairs, calling out for her in concern.

She rips the door open. Empty.

No unmade bed, or small lump of Danny under the sheets. No trash on the floor, strewn clothes.

”Is this about Danny?” Jack chatters, paling when he notices the absence, “Maybe he’s just ran off again?”

Maddie feels numb, heart sinking to her stomach. Her legs are heavy, weighted down by invisible anchors, chest feeling as fried as the portals shock.

God. The portal. That did this.

Their fault.

“Jack—it—it was the portal!” She finally manages to gasp out.

And then they’re in the lab, facing the green swirling vortex which reflects off of the tiles. Once a workplace, a sanctuary for her and Jack to make their weapons and research ghosts. Countless hours put into the Fenton brand.

How many of those are structured on lies?

Something catches her throat. There it is again, the putrid sweetness that claws into her lungs, makes her eyes water.

”Switch it off.” Maddie splutters, stumbling forward towards the green door. Once their pride and joy.

Now…

Jack presses the button. Sirens wail in her ears from the deployment.

And then they are in darkness. For the first time since initiation, the portal is still. No undertones of humming or neon green reflecting the walls.

Just stillness.

Maddie gulps, trying hold the bile rising in her throat.

”Mads…there’s something…” Jack whispers behind her, pointing directly at the back of the portal. Something small, a heap.

How long has it been here? Since the start? Just months?

Waiting. Decaying more by the day, desperately wanting them to set aside their blindness to realise what was lying infront of them the whole time.

Legs trembling, she traverses forward. The tang hits the back of her throat again, almost sickly sweet. Pasted into her memory for eternity.

And there something white juts up like a gnarled branch, gleaning slightly from the rubber material.

It’s irrefutable. HAZMAT.

And then the other, gnarled arm, withered and blackened, crisped like a branch in a bonfire. Black hair upon its head, once downy, now stiff as straw, inky as raven feathers. Skin—or what was, withered and twisted.

Eyes neither blue nor green.

Yet unmistakably Danny.

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. 1

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist |

summary: When you let your new neighbor’s daughter inside to call her father from your landline, you never expect to be dealing with the fallout twenty years later. Series will take place before and after the outbreak, and is partially inspired by this request. Slow-burn(ish), eventual smut. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 6.4k chapter warnings: mentions of/encounters with a drunk person, references to absent parents, i imply that both reader (and joel) like pineapple on pizza. a/n: i need to get my shit together and make a proper masterlist/post for this series but i'm absolute garbage with photoshop/making collages so that is a project for another day!! for now, i wanted to get this first part out to ya'll. i watched a playthrough of the game too so ill be including some references to that throughout the series. this will be some hallmark-movie ass romance so strap in!! this chapter was super fun to write and i loved writing for reader and sarah, give it a read and let me know what you think!

-March 7, 2003- 

“Excuse me? Ma’am? Excuse me?”

The voice behind you is so timid you don’t hear it right away, especially not when your phone is pressed to your ear with your shoulder as you sort through the mail, your coworker droning on and on…

“Ma’am?” 

It’s a little more forceful this time, a little closer too, and that’s when it finally gets your attention. Turning around on your heel, you find a young girl standing behind you, one hand hooked in the strap of her backpack that hangs off of one thin shoulder, the other worrying about the butterfly pendant of the necklace she’s wearing. 

You recognize her immediately as one of your neighbors, the girl from across the street whose name you didn’t know yet, because you only moved in about two months ago. You’d met the man who you assumed was her father – Joe? Or was it Joel?, you couldn’t remember – the first day you’d moved in, but there had been so much going on that you were too flustered to be engaged.

It’s a Friday, but apparently that doesn’t keep you safe from work calls after you leave the office, because you’re getting an earful of a whole lot of hot air, so much so that you’re probably unintentionally frowning at the girl in front of you while you try to follow the conversation.

“....I think you’re right, but they’re not going to budge unless we sweeten the deal somehow-”

“Can I call you back?” you blurt, ultimately thankful for the interruption. You don’t even wait for his response before you click off your blackberry, sighing, looking up. “Hi, yeah, sorry. Can I help you?”

“Uhm, I’m Sarah…..Miller….I live across the street?” her voice goes up slightly at the end of the sentence, like she’s unsure, even as she points to the home behind her, a two-story place that’s considerably bigger than your own, but maybe a little older. “I uhm…I locked myself out and I was wondering if I could use your phone…to call my dad at work? Please?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “That’s fine. Just uh..follow me I guess.”

Tucking the stack of mail in your hand under your arm, you wave her after you, your kitten heels clicking on the hard pavement of your driveway. 

“Be careful here,” you warn her as you step over the middle step to your front porch that has rotted, and gives easily under any amount of weight. You’d learned about it the hard way, last week, and still had the bruise on your leg to show for it. 

Your front door is open, and Sarah pauses to take off her shoes when you do, a pair of beat-up white Converse that have been doodled on in Sharpie.

“Here, phone’s right there,” you lead her into the kitchen and point to the landline. “Can I get you anything to drink?” 

“Uhm, could I just get some water…please?” She stands rigidly in your kitchen, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Of course,” you reach into the cabinet. Once the glass is filled and placed in front of her, you retreat to your front living area to give her some privacy while she makes the call, sitting on the couch and scrolling through unanswered emails on your blackberry. Sarah mumbles indiscreetly, until you hear her call out again. 

“Uhm…ma’am…I’m sorry, Miss…uh-what’s your last name?”

“Oh,” you sit up, giving her your first instead. 

“Okay….Uh, my dad wants to talk to you…could you-”

“Sure,” you stand, stepping back into the kitchen, and accepting the receiver from the girl. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Joel Miller,” you’re greeted with a low, gruff drawl. “You’re the new neighbor, I believe introduced myself a while back”

“Joel,” you repeat. It’s Joel. Joel, Joel, Joel, you force yourself to remember. Joel and Sarah Miller. “Yes, we met very briefly.”

“And it sounds like you met Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

On the other end of the line, you hear him hesitate, let out a long sigh. “Look, I hate to put you out, but she lost her key to the house, and she tells me the Adlers aren’t home. Do you think she could stay at your place until I’m able to get off work in a couple hours? I know it’s a big ask, but-”

“Of course she can,” you cut him off, peering over your shoulder at Sarah, who’s staring up at you expectantly with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“She’s probably got homework so I’ll make sure she stays quiet and out of your way. I’m so sorry, she should know better than this. It’s the second time this month this has happened, I keep tellin’ her-”

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal,” you cut him off, unintentionally, before wondering if it was rude you didn’t let him finish. It’s the native New Yorker in you, always in a rush and uninterested in drawn-out excuses. It’s an unfortunate instinct you’ve been trying to train yourself out of, particularly now that you’re living in the southwest. You soften your tone. “She can stay as long as she needs to, seriously. I don’t have anything planned.”

“Okay,” the voice on the other end sounds relieved. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I should be home by nine, I’ll call if anything changes. Thanks so much.”

“Of course, we’ll be fine. See you soon.” You hang up. 

Sarah is still behind you when you turn around, clutching the glass of water she’s got in both hands like a vice. “You can stay here until your dad gets home,” you tell her. 

“Did….did he sound mad?”

“Maybe a little stressed,” you’re honest. “But….not mad. I also don’t know him, so…”

“I bet he’ll be mad. This is the second time I’ve locked myself out this month because I forgot my key, and I already got lectured once that last time because he had to leave work early.”

“You made a mistake, people forget things…” you shrug. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

Her shoulders relax slightly, and she looks around like it’s the first time she’s actually registered where she’s at. “You have a nice house. It’s cozy.” 

“Thanks,” you put your hands on your hips and look around too. “I’m still settling in, so not everything’s unpacked, but I could give you a tour if you’d like?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Ma’am. That tickles you. The address is still not something you’re used to hearing, even though you’ve only been in Austin a few years. “You can just call me by my first name, you know? Ma’am makes me feel old.”

“Really?” she grins, following you down the hall. “I can’t wait to be old.”

“You’ll feel differently someday,” you answer. “But…I guess it’s not so bad.”

Compared to the house you grew up in, your new house is nothing special, but it’s yours, and you couldn’t be prouder that you’d bought it all on your own. It’s a three-bedroom ranch, and you’d converted one of the rooms into an office for yourself. There’s a kitchen, living room, and den. But your favorite part is your large, screened in back porch that overlooks your yard. Now that it’s getting closer to summer, you sit outside in the mornings with a cup of tea and read the newspaper, listen to the birds. 

“Can I do my homework at your kitchen table?” Sarah asks once you’re finished showing her around.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever,” you answer. “I could probably stand to get a little work done myself.”

Sarah sits at your dining room table, spreads out her books, and works quietly while you answer some emails and look over some contracts. You’ve got a big meeting Monday with a potential client, and a giant stack of term sheets to go through, but if you could manage to get some of it done tonight it might actually help you down the line. As much as possible, you try to avoid doing too much work outside of your office’s standard hours, but sometimes, it’s inevitable.

The subject Sarah has homework in is algebra, which renders you useless. Even when you have to do any accounting at work, you’re used to having a calculator nearby. It’d been awhile since you spent time with anyone as young as she was – in sixth grade, she told you – and it was starting to serve as a confirmation of your own dysfunctional childhood, because her carefree, sweet nature was so drastically different from anything you remembered feeling. 

After about an hour, Sarah slowly starts to close her notebooks, zipping her pencils back up in plastic pouches. You look up from making revisions on a contract, the smell of blue ink heavy in the air around you. “I’m done,” she announces. “Could I sit on your couch and read?”

“Of course,” you answer. “Give me five and I’ll join you.”

It doesn’t take long for you to find a good stopping point, and you pack up your messenger bag, and join Sarah in the living room. “So…I’m starting to get hungry,” you tell her. “Are you?”

Sarah nods sheepishly.

“I could order us something,” you said. “What do you like?”

You aren’t much of a chef, though you can generally figure your way out around any recipe. However, cooking for one is notoriously tedious. If you had multiple mouths to feed, maybe you’d be tempted to hone your skills in the kitchen a little more. Most nights you usually treated yourself to a depressing, hastily thrown together salad, scrambled eggs, or a PB&J. Tonight, you had actually been planning to take yourself out to dinner – there’s a cute little French bistro down the street and you were hoping to treat yourself to a cocktail and a nice meal while you read.

Sarah closes her book, contemplating. “Could we….get a pizza?”

You think about it. “Sure, yeah. Pepperoni…cheese?”

“Can we get….one of both?” she tests. 

“Yeah, we can do both,” You smile. “I bet your dad will be hungry, too, he can have some if he wants.”

“Maybe…he likes pineapple on his,” Sarah wrinkles her nose.

“He has good taste. I do too.”

“Gross.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them separate,” you call over your shoulder as you retreat to the kitchen. 

Once the pizza is ordered, you return to your living room and curl up on the opposite side of the couch from Sarah, who is engrossed back in her book. “They told me about 30 minutes. What are you reading?”

“To Kill A Mockingbird,” she says, showing you the cover. 

“That was one of my favorites growing up.”

“I have to read it for school…but it’s pretty good so far.”

Your phone pings with another email, and you glance at it quickly. 

“Is that work?” she asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. It still finds you, even when you leave.”

“What do you do?” 

“I’m a lawyer.”

“No way!” Sarah perks up. “Like on the tv shows? That’s so cool.” 

You snort, shaking your head. “No, not exactly. I’m a corporate lawyer so it’s not as fun, actually, it’s just a lot of paperwork and meetings…”

“So…you don’t like it, then?”

“It’s….” you think about it. “....Fine.” Did you like your job? It wasn’t really something you thought about in that way, you’d always seen it as a means to an end. “I went to law school because my dad wanted me to…he wanted me to work for him someday. And…that didn’t pan out so…yeah. But you know…it pays well, and….”

“You get to wear cool outfits,” she gestures to you.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Although the heels do get a little uncomfortable.”

Sarah’s eyes shift behind you for a second to the hallway leading to your bedroom, then widen excitedly. “You have a cat?” 

You turn around to see what she’s looking at, the white and gray ball of fluff that you’d found underneath a dumpster one late night in college. 

“Yeah, that’s Martini.”

“Martini,” she giggles, and the cat approaches her cautiously. He’s notoriously shy and quiet, and not even particularly cuddly, but he likes to sleep at the foot of your bed and will sit next to you on the couch if you stay still for long enough.

The cat sniffs Sarah’s outstretched hand, then presses his face into Sarah’s palm so she can scratch him under his chin, his favorite spot. “He’s not usually a fan of strangers, he must like you.”

“I love animals,” she says. “My dad won’t let me get a pet because he says he’ll end up taking care of it.”

You chuckle. “Cats are pretty easy…at least, he is.”

Martini allows himself about twenty seconds worth of affection before he darts out of the room and heads to his food bowl. 

“I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes, I’ll be right back,” you push yourself off the couch and walk down the hallway. Any other night and you probably would’ve been in pajamas awhile ago but that’s probably not acceptable, so you settle for jeans and a sweater, which is much more comfortable than the dress and tights you had been in before. 

The pizza arrives and after you tip the driver, set it on your kitchen island and pull some plates out of your cupboard. You and Sarah are both long settled with full plates when you speak again. 

“Wow….I forgot how good pizza is…” you say, staring at the half eaten piece in your hand. 

“You don’t eat pizza?”

“Usually only when I’m drunk,” you say, then immediately realize you’re talking to an eleven year old. “Oops, I…probably shouldn’t be telling you that.”

She giggles. “It’s okay.”

“So, it’s just you and your dad across the street?” you ask. “Does your mom live with you?” 

The second the question registers, you immediately regret asking. Sarah shrinks before you, her face dropping, shaking her head. “No I…I don’t really have a mom.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, softly. You just assumed she existed although you’d never seen her, and you feel guilty, racking your brain for something that might help make her feel better. “I understand, my mom wasn’t really around growing up.”

“She wasn’t?” Sarah asked, looking up. 

You shake your head.  “My parents got divorced when I was young, my dad took us, and she moved across the country, so….I didn’t see much of her.”

“My mom… she left when I was a baby.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, staring at the girl in front of you. 

For a moment, looking at her, you see yourself, and you wonder how a parent can wake up one day and choose to ignore someone that’s one half of themselves. Someone they made. If they really understood what that might do to a person’s psyche, growing up thinking that they weren’t wanted. You had always told yourself that your mother, your parents must have not understood, because if they did, and they still chose to do it…

“Are you married?” Sarah asks, and you’re snapped out of your train of thought.

Taking a bite of pizza, you shake your head no.

“So you live here alone?” 

You nod, chewing.

“Do you like it?”

You nod, swallow. “It’s better than having a roommate, or living in the city.” 

Standing up, you walk towards the fridge for a can of sparkling water. It hisses while you open it, and you lean over the counter while Sarah continues to drill you. “Do you ever get….scared? Like at night?” 

“No….not really. I have locks. And this is a safe neighborhood. And uh, I may or may not have a nightlight still.”

Sarah giggles. “Me too.”

There’s a sturdy knock on your screen door, which you’d left open to let in the cool spring breeze, and you notice Sarah’s eyes widen. “I bet that’s my dad.”

As if he heard her, and maybe he did, the guest calls out. “It’s Joel!” It’s the same voice from over the phone, but much clearer. 

“Come in,” you answer.

The screen door creaks open, the sound of boots shuffling inside. “Sarah?” It’s the same voice from the phone. Joel steps into the warm light of the kitchen.

When you first met it had been from a distance, you were carrying boxes and he was loading something into the back of his truck. It’s clear you hadn’t gotten a good enough look at him, wouldn’t have forgotten his name, because fuck, he’s kind of gorgeous…tan skin, dark wavy hair, and a sharp jawline covered in stubble. In the archway to your kitchen he looks huge, taller than you remembered.

“Hi Dad,” Sarah says. “Miss-“

You cut her off simply by saying your first name. “Nice to meet you…again.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, and thank you so much for keeping an eye on her. We’ll get out of your ha-”

“We got you pizza,” Sarah pipes up, looking at him. You can tell that she’s trying to stall. Or at least, trying to offer him something that might soften the inevitable lecture she’s going to get. It’s a smart play, and definitely not something you would’ve been above trying at her age.

Joel looks at the three pizza boxes spread across your countertop. “You didn’t have to feed her, really, like I said, she should’ve known better,” he turns to look at her pointedly.

“I had to eat anyway. Please, help yourself. There’s a ton of leftovers,” You really did not want cold pizza in your fridge, because it’d be too tempting to eat as a late night snack or even breakfast on your way out the door in the mornings.

Reluctantly, he looks at you before taking a plate. “Thank you,” he turns to his daughter while he opens one of the boxes. “Did you get your homework done?” 

Sarah nods. “And I got ahead on my reading for English.”

“That’s good.” 

Joel turns back to you, settles in a chair with the plate of food in front of him at the island. You do the same. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to come over and properly introduce myself. Sarah too.”

You shrug. “I’m the new neighbor, that’s probably my responsibility anyways. It’s been kind of hectic settling in.”

“Where’d you move from?”

“Well, I’ve been in Austin for the past few years, but originally I’m from Manhattan.”

Joel nods. “Why Texas?” 

It’s far away from my insane family, you think, and then settle on something else. “Work.”

Sarah is staring at her plate and tearing a piece of crust into tiny pieces. Joel eyes the slice of pizza he’s just taken a bite of.

“Pineapple?” he looks over at Sarah. “Are you tryin’ to bribe me so you don’t get in trouble?”

“It’s my favorite, too,” you offer, then wink at Sarah when Joel isn’t looking. She tilts her head down, her hair hiding the grin on her face from her father.

A buzzing sound cuts through the room before Joel can answer, and he digs in his pocket to fish out his cell phone. “Hold on, I gotta take this.”

When he steps out of the room, you begin to clear the empty boxes and plates off your kitchen island and bring them over to the sink. Sarah brings her plate over as well, stands next to you at the sink while you rinse them off and load them in the dishwasher. 

“Thank you for dinner,” she says. 

“Of course,” you answer.

“I just really hope he’s not disappointed with me.”

Placing your hand between her shoulder blades, you give her an encouraging pat. “I don’t think he is….” you hear Joel on the phone in the other room, his voice rising in volume. “....and honestly….it sounds like he might have bigger fish to fry…”

“Tommy…are you fucking kidding me? Again? How many times is this gonna happen? Okay…fine. fine. I’ll be there soon, but you can’t keep doing this shit.”

Sarah grimaces, and you both turn back to the sink sheepishly when you hear Joel’s footsteps returning. She bumps you with her elbow while you clear your throat. 

You’re sure there’s still a residual smile on your face when you turn around to face Joel, who has his hands on his hips. “Alright, Sarah, we gotta get going.”

“Is everything okay with Uncle Tommy?” 

“No, I’ve gotta pick him up at the police station.” 

“Did he drink too much again?”

“Sarah!” Joel exclaims. “Please, it’s gettin’ late and you’ve got a soccer game tomorrow, you need to get to bed.”

You’re biting your lower lip so hard to keep from laughing you almost taste blood. It’s not funny, definitely not funny to Joel, who you can tell is having a rough night, but it’s objectively funny as an outsider, watching all their familial drama being put on blast by his daughter who doesn’t quite have a filter yet, and is first and foremost trying to protect herself from getting into trouble.

“She’s a lawyer, I bet she could help Tommy,” Sarah looks over at you. “Couldn’t you?”

Joel frowns. “That’s not how that works-”

“What’d they bring him in for?” you ask. 

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Public intoxication. Are you really a lawyer?”

“Well…I’m a corporate lawyer so that wouldn’t really be my specialty. But uh…I’ve definitely been able to talk my friends out of that kind of thing before.”

“But this is not the first time,” Joel says. “It’s probably useless.” 

“Didn’t you say you can’t afford to keep-”

“Sarah, enough.” Joel’s voice is as stern as you’ve heard it, and he digs into his pocket, producing a keychain. “Go home and get ready for bed. I’ll be home in a minute.”

Sarah sighs, defeated. “Okay.” 

Joel stands dead still while she shuffles to the door, cramming her feet in her shoes with her backpack slung over her shoulder. 

By this point in the evening, you’d usually be curled up on your couch by the fireplace with your latest knitting project, moderately stoned, watching bad reality television and sipping sleepytime herbal tea. But your night has already gone drastically different from your expectation. Why stop now? “If you wanted…I could try to help.”

Joel shakes his head, looks at the floor. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t ask,” you shrug. “I offered.”

He looks up, a soft smile breaks across his face, revealing a row of straight, sparkling teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It’s the first sincere smile you’ve ever seen from him, and your knees feel a little weak at the sight of it. You think you might offer him anything just to see it again. “It’d be a huge favor. But….I’d appreciate it.”

“Alright well…” you look around, push yourself off the countertop. “I probably should change before we go. I don’t think I’ll be taken seriously in this.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I need to make sure Sarah gets to bed alright, how ‘bout you meet me on my porch in ten?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks again,” he raps his knuckles on the counter twice before retreating, and you stay in place until you hear the screen door close behind him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I feel like you’re meeting us all at a very chaotic time….I promise, things aren’t usually like this.” 

Joel’s not sure why he feels the need to clarify this to you on the drive to the police station. In fact, he might be saying it more to convince himself, because he thinks ever since Sarah’s mom ran off, things have never not been chaotic. 

In some ways, he’s glad it happened. It was a doomed relationship from the start, they’d both been far too young to understand the consequences of their actions, so it was probably for the better that she was no longer around. But he was caught in a constant state of feeling like he could never quite get a handle on things. 

Joel glances over at you in the passenger's seat of his truck. He decides that you look a little out of place there, dressed in a black pantsuit, a messenger bag tucked between your heel-clad feet. He can’t remember the last time there was an adult woman in his car. Three months, maybe? It had been a date, a third date, and subsequently, a last date. But right now the context is different.

Your head is tilted towards the open window, the breeze casting stray pieces of your hair around as the radio cuts in and out of an old Eagles song and then to static, and then back into music again. He needs to get his damned stereo fixed but unfortunately it hasn’t exactly been high on his priority list. His gaze travels down the slope of your neck, where your skin dips into the collar of your silky blue blouse, then back to your profile, your lips moving as you mouth the words to the song, but don’t sing. 

I get this feelin' I may know you

As a lover and a friend

You stop when his words register, turning to look at him, and he averts his eyes back to the road. “No offense or anything….” you say. “But compared to the family I grew up in….this is all pretty tame.”

Joel ponders that for a moment, notices the way your eyes are narrowed, the corners of your lips quirking. “What, you got a problematic little brother, too? A precocious eleven-year-old?”

“No kids,” you answer. He didn’t think so. “But I do have a problematic older brother. And the stress he’s caused has definitely taken years off my life.”

At least you seem like you understand. 

He’s shocked you’re in this car with him, that after entertaining his daughter all night, you’d offered to help him out with this Tommy mess. Though, he assumes you’re doing it out of guilt because Sarah made it sound like he was broke.

“You know for the record, I actually have the money to bail him out.”

“I figured.”

“Then why’d you come?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. My life has been pretty boring lately. I can’t remember the last time I did something exciting on a Friday night.” 

“This is exciting to you?”

“It’s objectively exciting,” you sound assured. “Maybe more exciting than being the person who got arrested for public intoxication.” 

Despite the stress of the evening, he can’t help but laugh. 

“And whether you’re broke or not, bailing someone out of jail is no joke. If you can at least try to talk your way out of it, you might as well.”

Joel can’t argue with your logic.

“What is it you do again?” you ask, eyeing the protective glasses he has in the cup holder of his front seat. There are nails stuck between the rubber grooves of the mat beneath the seats, a pair of thick gloves resting on the dashboard.

“I’m a carpenter.”

“Makes sense,” you answer. “So you’re handy?”

“You could say that,” Joel lifts the can of flat, warm seltzer from his lunch break to his mouth, just to take a sip. 

“That’s hot,” you say, and he nearly chokes when he hears it.  Are you….flirting? Though, you can’t be, because when he looks over at you, you’re staring at the road, face neutral. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t make the rules of what’s hot and what isn’t….it’s just a fact. Everyone knows that.” 

“Do they?” 

“Uh-huh,” you respond. “I mean, I wish I was handy. I’m pretty much a lost cause in that department.” 

“If it paid the bills, you’d figure it out.” 

“If it paid the bills, I can tell you, I would not be living in our neighborhood.”

Joel puts his blinker on, preparing to pull into the police station. “You probably still could, it’s not that nice of a neighborhood.” 

“Shut up,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “But in all seriousness, it is peaceful. It’s quiet.”

“See, but you still didn’t say nice.”

“It is nice. I like it.” 

When he parks the car, you straighten up, unbuckling the seatbelt and exiting without a word. On the opposite side of the truck, he observes how you rebutton the front of your blazer, smooth down its lapels and shift your shoulders back before turning to him. 

“You ready?” you ask. 

He nods. 

“After you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Joel spots you again, Tommy is walking a few paces behind you. You turn your head over one shoulder, smirking at whatever he’s saying. From where Joel is sitting in the lobby, he can just make out the soft curve of your hips, the tops of your thighs over the barrier that separates him from all the desks of the officers and staff at the station. You’ve got an easy, relaxed gait and you give Joel a wink when he catches you staring.

He can tell it’s just meant to be celebratory thing, since both you and Tommy seem to be in good spirits, but he likes the sight of it anyways, the idea that you’re both in on some secret that no one else is. 

Joel stands to greet you and his brother to get the download, but as he approaches, your group is intercepted by one of the cops that had been hanging around reception. 

“Miller,” he says lowly to Tommy. “This better be the last time I see you in here.” 

When Tommy doesn’t answer right away, you pipe up. 

“I assure you my client will be on his best behavior.”

The cop turns to you for a minute, turns back to Tommy, contemplating. “You’re lucky you have a good lawyer…” he says. “Although I’m still not convinced you’re really paying someone to get you out of a public intoxication charge.” 

“I-” Tommy opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“Alleged…intoxication,” you interject, stone-faced.

“He can hardly walk straight.”

You purse your lips. “But….you never did a sobriety test, so, would it hold up in court?” you grimace. “If I had to guess….probably not.”

The cop narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t push it, princess.” 

Despite the infantilizing nickname, You respond with a polite smile. “Thanks again, officer. Have a nice evening.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs before backing away. 

You turn to Joel, your smile fading, and Tommy cuts in. “We should get the fuck out of here before he changes his mind.”

“That’s it? You’re free?” Joel asks.

Tommy nods. 

“Tommy’s right, we should definitely leave.”

It’s a mad scramble, the three of you settling back into Joel’s truck, and if he was feeling a little less angsty about the way the whole evening had gone, he might’ve even peeled out of the parking lot for dramatic effect. But at this point, his patience is wearing thin.

He’s back on the main drag, en route to Tommy’s place, with you on the passenger’s side, and his brother in the back, leaning forward with his elbows resting on your seats when his brother speaks up.

“Holy….shit!” Tommy turns to you. “That was fucking awesome, are you kidding me? Joel, where the fuck did you find her?”

He’s still drunk, words slurring together, and he shakes both of your shoulders ferociously. You actually giggle — the sound of it is fucking adorable and Joel wishes that these are not the circumstances for hearing such a noise. He rather it be because of something he said, but he knows Tommy has always been more charming, even when drunk 

“She’s my neighbor, Tommy.”

“No way! How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Tommy asks, and Joel can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

“I’m kind of new to the area,” you answer. 

“Dammit, oh my god, Joel, I wish you coulda seen it.”

Joel looks over at you, and is thankful that he catches your eye. “What’d you say?” 

“Never underestimate your negotiating power when the cop you’re talking to’s shift ended over an hour ago, and he doesn’t want to fill out any more paperwork.” You cross your arms, look over your shoulder at Tommy, who is leaning back against the seat with his head in his hands, laughing, before looking back at Joel. “I told you, I have experience.”

“Oh my god,” Tommy pokes his head back between you. “How’d he even get you to come down here? What’d he have to do, offer to paint your house or somethin’?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Sarah got locked out again,” Joel explained. “And I was over at her place when you called. She’s a corporate lawyer.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You know, Joel’s always liked the smart ones,” Tommy starts, and Joel has to contain the urge to slam on the brakes and send his brother face first into the back of his headrest. Unfortunately, he can’t do that with you in the car. “Too bad he’s dumb as a box of rocks.”

“Okay, watch yourself!” Joel snaps, and he’s only halfway kidding. “You got off easy, but you’re on fuckin’ thin ice, and I’m still pissed that I’m spending my night bailing you out again.”

Tommy doesn’t even catch on to Joel’s irritation – or maybe he does, and has just decided that he’s going to be the Annoying Younger Sibling and see how far he can push it. “Don’t let him fool you, okay?” Tommy continues, and you’ve angled yourself towards him, amused. “It’s not always him lookin’ after me. Before he had Sarah, he was crazy.”

“Alright, alright that’s enough, Tommy.” Joel shoots daggers towards his brother in the rearview mirror, and he watches Tommy’s smile falter, finally deciding to back down. 

“Is that true, Joel, were you really crazy?” you ask after Tommy grows quiet, tilting your head. “I can’t see it.”

“Well we’ve all have our moments, right?” he says sheepishly. 

“We do,” you agree, and then it’s finally silent.

Joel is thankful to see Tommy’s driveway straight in front of him, and his car lurches up the curb. “Alright, alright, this is your last stop,” he says to his brother. “You’ll get in okay?” 

Tommy takes a deep breath, settling himself after all his bravado and sinking back against his seat. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Sarah’s game.” He slinks out of the truck and slams the door behind him. 

Normally, Joel would’ve chewed him out after something like this, but he knows being hungover tomorrow at a middle school soccer game, sandwiched between screaming parents and the ear-splitting whistles of the referees will be punishment enough.

“I’ll see you then.” He watches his brother stumble up the steps to his home, unlock the door, and give a wave before disappearing inside. 

Joel’s left alone with you. “Should we get you home, now?”

“Yeah, we should.”

Joel puts the car in reverse, puts one of his arms over the back of the bench seat to look for cars behind him, and catches you staring. You don’t even seem embarrassed that he notices, either, you just shift your gaze away to outside the window.

He feels a little self-conscious about the first impression he’s probably made, which is a feeling he’s not used to…caring about what people think. 

“Sorry about him, he’s….a good guy but a real piece of work.”

You giggle. “Like I said, I have a brother, too.”

It’s been awhile since he’s interacted with anyone outside of Sarah, Tommy, and his coworkers, and his day was exhausting. He wants to ask more questions, see if he can hold some kind of conversation, but words fail him, so you spend the short drive on the way back home mostly in silence. You’re so quiet that by the time he pulls into your driveway, he thinks you might be asleep. If you were, he doesn’t even get the chance to wake you, because you immediately sit up straight once the truck has come to a halt.

“Thanks for everything tonight,” he says. 

“You’re welcome, it was no problem,” you get out of the car, sling your bag over your shoulders, and close the door. “Have a good night.” 

Joel’s listening to the retreating click of your heels up the driveway when he rolls down his window all the way to speak again. It’s clear you’re tired, your shoulders are slouched, and he feels incredibly guilty. You worked all day and then had to put up with his entire crazy family. 

“Hey,” he says. “How much do I owe you for the pizza?”

You turn around, still stepping backwards. “Nothing.”

“Look, you’ve done too much for me tonight to say that,” he says. “I’m startin’ to feel bad.”

You stop in your tracks then, the smirk on your face fading a little bit as you slowly step forward to where he leans out the truck window. It’s only a few feet, but you’re much closer now than you’ve been to him all night, and there must be jasmine in your perfume. It smells expensive, he thinks, as your hands lift to rest on the door next to his elbow. “You shouldn’t feel bad,” you say softly, voice low. 

God, you’re fucking beautiful, he realizes, basked in the glow of the moon, a smile creeping along the edges of your lips. Of course, he knew you were attractive, had definitely registered it at some point before –  maybe when he’d walked in on you and Sarah giggling in the kitchen. He was just too busy being worried to even notice until now. 

This isn’t a date, but you’re so close he could kiss you, kind of wants to just to see what would happen, but he doesn’t. You’re his new neighbor, and if he’s reading this wrong, he doesn’t want to be reminded of the mistake everyday, first thing in the morning when you’re picking up your newspaper at the end of your driveway and he’s leaving for work. 

“But uh…if it would make you feel better…one of the steps on my front porch is rotted. Maybe you could come over sometime and fix it? That a fair trade?” 

Joel nods, and you stick out your hand. “It’s a deal,” he says, ignoring the jolt of energy he feels when your palms press together, like you’re a kid wearing a hand buzzer, trying to shock him.

“Great,” you step away. He’s about to put the car in reverse when you speak again. 

“Oh, and Joel?” you ask, he looks back at you. Before you speak again, your eyes shift to the ground, like you’re mustering up the courage to ask him something, and when they return to his again, your expression is somber. “Go easy on Sarah….she’s a good kid.”

Joel nods, understanding.

“I know.”

-

volume ii

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