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dameronspector · 1 month ago

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“Happy New Year, Honey.”

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Set during the New Year’s party where Joel protects Ellie and Dina from Seth. Aka you comfort Joel and don’t let him spend the new years alone.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of panic attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Cursing, Joel deserves to be doted on, Reader and Joel are married, Reader is in her late 30s-early 40s, Reader is kind of upset with Ellie for hurting Joel, Reader just wants her family back but is stuck as the mediator (PS: I fucking love ellie, she’s my sister. This is no hate against her. This is just my depiction of a parents-child relationship dynamic.)

AN: i saw the episode and my heart broke for joel and his sad, warm brown eyes :(

It was finally New Year’s Eve and there was a little party being held in Jackson. Maria had assigned you to food service so you were helping the kitchen team with the plating and to set the buffet. You had to leave the house a little early for that. Joel was pouting because he didn’t want to arrive alone to the party. It was difficult enough to convince him to come, and now his big brown eyes were staring at you like he was a kicked puppy. You stalled for a good 10 minutes before parting with a sweet kiss, with a promise of saving him a dance.

Slowly, the community area of the church started filling up with people. There was a quiet murmur of people chatting and laughing. The air was perfectly warm inside the main house and crisp-cold outside. There was no snowfall today, thankfully, which meant everyone could enjoy the bonfire. The food smelt good and the band was playing soothing tunes.

The area was decorated with lovely fairy lights that made it look like the stars had come down. Overall, it was a very cosy scene. You were actually enjoying yourself. You had finished serving the food into containers and were now setting up the buffet. Gradually, the number of people gathered around increased and now you were 4 hours away from ringing in the New Year.

Joel was not still nowhere to be seen but you did spot Ellie with Dina and Jesse. Maria and Tommy were welcoming the newcomers meanwhile Benji was playing with his friends.

You were thinking of going back home and bringing him with you but you knew he just needed his space. You knew how badly the separation with Ellie was affecting him. Everyone could see that. Hell, even he could see that. It got so bad, that he had resorted to seeking therapy. You were so shocked when he admitted that to you but you encouraged him because he was finally willing to open up. You just hoped the therapist-Gail-wouldn’t breach his boundaries and make him isolate from others again.

He was trying so hard. It broke your heart into a thousand pieces to look at his dejected and sad face everytime she ignored him. He asked for Ellie during breakfast, lunch and dinner without missing a beat. He kept aside some food for her everyday. He built her a new chair because her old one had a broken leg. He would find something to gift her on patrol every time and would ask you to give it to her so that she accepts it.

It was heartbreaking.

You tried to talk to Ellie about this but she shot you down quickly. That’s when you decided you wouldn’t get involved because it’s not your place. It’s something that only the two of them should be talking about. And truthfully, you’d never admit to Ellie that you didn’t think he did anything wrong because you would’ve done the exact same thing for her. Any parent who denies this is a hypocrite.

So, you gave him space. You were patient with him. And you could see the gratitude in his eyes and his actions. How he would hug you longer. How he was more open with his affections. How he freely shared his thoughts and feelings. And that was everything that you’d ever want.

He’s all you have and you were all he has. You would do anything to protect him, just as he would for you.

The band was playing a cheerful song and everyone was laughing and dancing to the fullest. You were busy serving everyone so you didn’t notice Joel enter the area. You were talking to the town’s beekeper Jude while making her a plate when you felt arms snake around your waist. You jumped.

“Hey, honey”, his low baritone voice murmured in your ear.

Your face broke out in a loving smile.

You excused yourself from Jude who gave you a teasing smile and asked Kat to take over. Joel shifted the two of you slightly away from the table and you turned your neck to look at him. You rested your hands on his left hand and played with his ring.

“Hey, baby. Welcome to the party”, you greeted him softly and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. You broke apart and he turned you around.

He rested his hands on your waist and rubbed it gently. His brown eyes looked like they were sparkling in the fairy lights. He ran his eyes across your face. Like he was reading you.

“You look so beautiful, darlin’”, he complimented you shyly, even though you were wearing a simple sweater that would’ve been considered as a ‘going out top’ with some jeans. He thought you looked good in anything.

You grinned brightly at him.

“Yeah? Well, Mr. Miller, you don’t look too bad yourself”, you replied cheekily and caressed his chest. You saw his cheeks turned into a tinge of pink. Even after being married for 4 years and being together for a decade, he would still get shy whenever you complimented him.

He gave you a meek smile and brought you closer to kiss your forehead. You closed your eyes and let out a content sigh before raising your head to look in his eyes.

“I’ve got to help with the serving, you think you’ll be okay without me for sometime, baby?”, you asked him softly and put your hand on his stubbled, soft cheek.

You could see him deflate a little as he let out a sigh. He leaned his head against your palm and rubbed your lower back with a hand.

“Yeah, okay. But, you’re saving me a dance, remember?”, he smiled.

You smiled at him sweetly and nodded your head.

He drank in your smile before pressing a kiss to your palm and planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I’ll see you, wife”, he smirked before pulling away.

You just giggled and waved him off.

God, you’d do anything to see this man happy.

An hour to go before you all rang in the New Year. You were almost done with serving desserts and now you could finally dance with Joel. The band was playing softly and while everyone was slow dancing.

You turned away to put away the last container into the kitchen and you came out to see the music was stopped and everyone was huddled around- Ellie and Dina?

Something was wrong. Your maternal instincts kicked in and you immediately pushed your away to the middle. You stood next to Ellie and held her arm gently.

“Ellie? What’s up? What happened?”, you asked her carefully. Her face was red and her eyes were bloodshot with tears. Dina was in the same condition.

“Dina, hey. What’s wrong?”, you asked her gently and put your hands on her shoulders. She sputtered but said nothing. She looked embarrassed and she was drunk, you realised. You turned to look at Ellie again but she looked away from you.

What the hell happened?

“What- hey. What’s going on?”, you raised your voice slightly and looked around. You couldn’t see Maria or Tommy or-

“Where’s Joel?”, you asked out loud, hoping he’d hear you incase he was around. “Ellie, where’s-”

She turned around so quickly that you jumped back from her. She pointed at you.

“Tell your fucking husband to stay the fuck out of my business.”

You froze. Her tone was so harsh. Her body language was aggressive and agitated. You’ve seen her like this before but it was never directed at you. And she never spoke to you like this.

“Ellie!”, Dina’s eyes widened and she pulled Ellie back.

“Hey, relax. I’m just-”

“I don’t need your fucking help, (Name). So don’t tell me to relax and I don’t fucking know where Joel has gone. I don’t care where he is and if you’re so worried then don’t stand here and-”

“That’s enough”, you cut her off firmly and held out your hand to stop her. “I just wanna know what happened.”

Ellie’s mouth fell open and she looked away in shame.

You clenched your jaw. You took a deep breath in to calm down. You registered how everyone was still staring at the three of you.

“Do we not have work to do? Y’all want some popcorn?”, you sternly questioned the crowd.

Everyone averted their gazes before clearing the area and leaving the three of you alone.

You turned to Dina.

“Dina, where’s Joel?”, you asked her with urgency in your tone.

“I-I don’t know. He just left”, Dina stuttered. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her cheeks were red.

Joel went to two places frequently when he was not ready to face the world- either his workshop to work on his projects or he’s in the office looking over the blue prints. But now that you know something happened between him and Ellie, you really didn’t know where he could’ve gone. It was a very fragile situation.

Ellie furiously walked away from the two of you to stand outside the hall. You closed your eyes to compose yourself and to stop the tears from flowing. She was drifting further and further away from you. And not just physically.

You looked at the door tearfully before turning back to Dina. “Don’t let her do anything stupid, okay? Get home safely.”

Dina nodded at you. You patted her shoulder and ran out of the hall to check the office first. He wasn’t there. You felt your stomach hurt at the thought of him being alone and having a panic attack. You needed to get to him now.

You ran all the way from the community hall to your house. The cold, dry wind hit your face and turned it into a bright shade of pink. Your eyes were watery and your breath was uneven but still, you continued to run.

On your way, you passed people wishing a happy new year to each other and lighting fireworks. Your heart twisted painfully. This is the first time in a decade that you and Joel weren’t together for New Year’s Eve.

Your lungs were aching by the time you finally saw your house in the distance and noticed the porch lights were on. And that’s when he came into view.

Joel was sitting on the armchair with his guitar on his lap. You could hear the soft strumming of the guitar along with your loud breathing and the whistling wind.

He looked so small.

Your husband was a hulking man of 6 foot tall height with the broadest shoulders. You didn’t know it was possible for a man of his stature to look so small and dejected.

The sight of him alone on the porch, while listening to the muffled cheers of the other residents, brought tears to your eyes. He didn’t deserve this. You felt guilty for leaving him alone.

You made your way to the porch and he looked up as soon as he heard your footsteps. His eyes shone in the light and he stopped strumming. He furrowed his eyebrows when he looked at the state of you. He quickly set down his guitar and got up from the chair.

“Honey? You okay?”, he approached you and held out his hand for you to join him on the porch. Acting as if his heart wasn’t hurting right now.

Your vision blurred as eyes filled with tears and your face scrunched up before you let out a soft cry. You stepped on the porch and buried your face in his chest while tightly wrapping your arms around his back.

Joel simply encased you in his warm arms and brought you closer. “Baby? What’s wrong? You’re scarin’ me. Did someone say somethin’ to you?”, he rambled worriedly and laid his cheek on your forehead. He winced. “And you’re s’cold. Where’s your jacket? I keep tellin’ you to not go out like this”, he scolded you gruffly before wrapping his jacket around you and hugging you closer. He was fussing over you even when he was the one who needed to be comforted.

You gently pulled away and settled your hands on his bicep. “Where did you go? I’ve been looking for you all this time. I ran all the way from the community hall and I even checked the offi-”

“You ran all the way here?!”, he asked incredulously. He was clearly changing the topic to avoid your questions. He huffed out a scoff and wiped your tears gently. “Now, why’d you do that? Are you crazy-”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you spend the New Years alone”, you furrowed your eyebrows.

He opened his mouth to argue.

“What happened back there?”, you cut him off.

You observed the way he froze and averted his eyes from your intense gaze. He swallowed thickly before clearing his throat. “Nothin’. I just came back home because I was bored. Thought I’d let you have fun. Didn’t wanna ruin it for ya.”

You cupped his cheek and turned his head towards you. His eyes were tearing up. He clenched his jaw tightly to keep the tears at bay.

You scrunched your brows and caressed his cheek gently.

“Joel, I went into the kitchen for a moment and came back to a scene. Everyone was looking at Ellie and Dina. Tommy and Maria weren’t there. You weren’t there. Ellie….”, you trailed off before letting out a sigh. “She seemed disturbed. So was Dina. Ellie didn’t wanna talk to me, either. What happened, Joel?”, you whispered.

You saw how he was trying his best to hold it together. He closed his eyes and let out a weary sigh. A tear slid down his cheek and you wiped it with your thumb. He held your wrist gently and leaned into your palm.

“Ellie and Dina were dancin’ together. Seth was bein’ an asshole. He said this is a family event and called them a slur. I happened to hear it and I pushed him down. Told him to get out”, he murmured. Your eyes widened.

You knew Ellie and Dina liked each other and you were so happy because they’re adorable together and they made each other happy. But you had no idea that even in an apocalyptic world, some people were still a fucking dick about who’s kissing who.

“Oh god”, you murmured in disgust towards Seth. Joel nodded. “Yeah. Pissed me off real bad. But Ellie…”, his voice cracked.

“She..she didn’t like it. Told me she doesn’t need my fucking help”, he choked out.

“Oh, Baby..”, you whispered and held his face in both of your hands. Like he’s something precious.

That did it for him and he broke down. He let out a shaky breath. Your palms were damp with his tears.

“I just…I was just trying to protect her. It hurts so much. No matter what I do…I’ve lost her. I can’t-”, he cut himself off, his breathing uneven.

You quickly removed your hands from his face and helped him sit down on his chair.

His entire body stiffened up and he pressed his hand to his chest-near his heart. He was having a panic attack. You didn’t touch him to avoid startling him and kneeled in front of him instead.

“Hey, Joel. Tell me 5 things you can see?”, you asked him quietly.

He closed his eyes before taking in a deep breath and looked around.

“The…the porch light..the snow..the door…my shoes…you”, he whispered.

“Okay, now 4 things that you can touch?”

“The chair, m-my jacket…my jeans…my watch.”

“Good, now 3 things you can smell?”

“Smoke��wet soil…your shampoo.”

“That’s good, baby. Now 2 things you can hear?”

“The wind….your voice.”

“And now tell me 1 thing that you can feel?”

“My heartbeat”, he responded quietly before taking in a deep breath and letting it out.

“Good job, baby. Do you want some water?”, you asked him gently.

He weakly shook his head no before burying his face in his hands. You got up to get away from the freezing floorboards but he mistook that for you leaving him and snapped up his head. He held your wrist.

“Don’t go, please.”

He looked like he was pained by the idea of you leaving and it broke your heart all over again. You softened and stood closer to him, taking that as a sign to touch him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel. I was just bringing you some water”, you whispered to him and rubbed his back soothingly.

He released your wrist and slowly leaned his head against your stomach, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly.

You hugged him back and buried a hand in his beautiful curls and rubbed his back with the other.

“You did the right thing, honey. You protected her. And gave her space when she asked you to. I’m so proud of you. She’s just…she needs time to accept it, yeah? It’s not easy for her either. Plus, she’s growing up now. It’s just how the kids act like when they’re 19, we were probably the same as well”, you chuckled softly.

He let out a shuddering breath and kissed your stomach before propping his chin up on it to look at you. You stared back at his gentle eyes and brushed his curls back before caressing his forehead with your thumb.

“I’m sorry for the way she acted towards you, Joel. I know I said I’m not going to get involved but I will try to talk to her again, okay? I know you hate being away from her and you worry about her every second but you have to respect her boundaries too, Joel. Promise me?”, you asked him gently before cupping his face in your hands.

He swallowed and nodded his head.

“I understand.”

You gave him a smile. “Good. Now, I believe I saved you a dance?”

He smiled weakly. “There’s no music.”

“Who said we needed it anyways?”, you teased him and he let out a chuckle that showed his pretty dimple. You kissed his cheek.

You pulled away and held his hands in yours. He stood up and towered over you before winding an arm around your back, holding your free hand in his. You held the bicep of his arm that was around you and laid your head on his shoulder. He brought you closer and leaned his head on yours before swaying the two of you gently.

After a while, he nudged you to face him and delicately held your face in his hands before leaning in. The two of you share a sweet, loving kiss. Your lips gently massaging each other and your noses nudging against your cheeks.

You came away for air and leaned your forehead against his before circling his neck with your arms. His went around your hips and he pulled you impossibly closer.

“Happy new year, honey. I love you so much”, you whispered to him and nudged his nose with yours.

He flashed you his charming, dimpled smile. His cheeks were flushed.

“Happy New Year, Mrs. Miller. I love you with everything in me.”

The two of you were so intertwined with each other that the world disappeared around you.

Both of you didn’t notice Ellie standing in the darkness, observing and listening to everything with tears in her eyes.

AN: i can’t take their separation anymore please they’re so sad.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us season 2 #joel miller x you #husband!joel miller #joel miller x wife!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #pedro pascal #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort

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lizzyk137 · 11 months ago

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Misunderstandings and Realizations- A Spencer Reid Fanfiction (Spencer X Reader)

Summary: You and Spencer started to drift apart after JJ's confession, you can handle it for only so long before leaving him. Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, angst, fluff, brief mentions of sex, brief mention of serial killer, brief mention of seizure, talk of pregnancy, brief moments of being in a hospital Based on Season 14 episode 16 all throughout Season 15

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Something went down.

Not in the bad way, well you guess you could say it was bad because there was a hostage situation with an Unsub, but something certainly happened.

You felt it when he came back home to you that night. Curling himself around you, kissing your neck all over before finally making passionate love to you, like the world would end if he didn't. Usually, you cuddle and fall asleep after you both clean up, but he left you in bed as he went out to the living room, his face masked of any emotion.

His face often did that now when you were around. You had asked the other team member's partners during your weekly get together at the park, but none of them knew what went down that night, not even Will. All he knew was that the Unsub played a game with JJ and Spencer, and JJ didn't tell him anything but that.

You saw the looks at Rossi's wedding, you tried to ignore them. Will seem oblivious to them, but you caught every single one. Spencer didn't ask you to dance either that night, something he loved to do with you since it gave him the excuse to hold you close, look into your eyes and give you kiss after kiss all while you giggled. He loved the feeling of your heart beating in sync with his, he had told you and since then he would randomly dance with you at home and especially when you both went out.

The looks continued throughout the night, the random hush conversations. They didn't stop even when Will got JJ to dance or Alvez came over to ask you to dance. Spencer didn't even seem to care when you said yes, and you spent the rest of the night dancing with Alvez and Pennelope. He just sat alone at the table, his gaze always finding JJ's.

Kristy watched you, her hand on her growing bump, as you ran around the playground with her youngest daughters. "Are you sure he isn't just stressed?" She had asked, her voice almost lost in the mixture of the kid's giggled and screams.

You peaked your head from behind one of the slide's. "He's been going to therapy and taking his medicine regularly. It could be but he's never been like this before."

You slid down the slide, the plastic being a little slicker than you thought causing you to fall off and onto the ground.

A pain in your stomach appeared, causing you to gasp, but you quickly brush it away as Henry and Michael came running up to you with a disheveled Will running to catch up with them. You played with the kids for a while, the pain growing more intense, before you slugged your way over to the bench where Kristy and Will sat.

"You should sit down. The kids are pushing you hard today." Kristy laughed. You sat down next to her, a cry escaping your lips as your body touched the cool bench beneath you. "Are you okay?"

You shook your head as the pain increased, your vision going blurry as you felt Will's hands grab your body before it hit the bench.

Spencer watched as Matt and Kristy laughed at what Luke said, Matt's arms circling his wife's very pregnant belly. He wondered if he would get to do that one day, but he shook the thought from his mind before going back to his conversation with Tara.

"How's Y/N, doing? She's been quiet the past couple of meet ups."

Spencer nodded his head before lying, "She's been okay, work has her stressed out. She spends most days reading or with the kids." He knew it wasn't the truth but every member of his team that has asked how you've been, he just gave the same reply. Because in all honesty, he didn't know the truth. One day you were just quiet.

He saw the cracks in your usual smiley self. You were a ray of sunshine, always what was needed to brighten up his usual gloomy self. He knew things have been different, he didn't want to admit it. His brain always confused on what he wanted and possibly who he wanted, though he would never tell you that. He always made himself busy, usually taking on more cases from police departments that needed help or booking more classes to teach. The only intimacy you both had was when he came home after cases. He would kiss you like your lips was the air he needed and then made love to you for hours before watching you drift off to sleep before moving to the couch which had become his bed every night because it wasn't right of him to lay next to you while he had been tossing around the idea of a life with another women.

Spencer knew you were lonely, but you stayed, he was thankful for that, he didn't know what he would do without you in his life. But he couldn't shake what was going through his head.

Somewhere in the midst of overthinking, his feet brought him to Kristy. She stood there glowing as she smiled, her hand still rubbing on her belly. "Come to say congratulations again, Dr. Reid?" Her eyes playful as she teased him.

"Um, do you know where Y/N is?" He asked. He hadn't been able to find you for the past hour, which shouldn't have been hard since the house only had so many hiding places.

"She didn't tell you, did she? She had an appointment this afternoon, but she should be here soon." Spencer nodded, trying to remember if you had told him, which you didn't because his brain wouldn't allow him to forget things. "This must be super hard on her though, so make sure you show her some extra love."

Spencer looked at her puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"You know, with the miscarriage. It has to be hard on her to go to this type of celebration." Spencer's puzzled expression only grew as she spoke, so she decided to continue on. "Did she not tell you? She told us she was going to tell you."

"Everyone knew?" His voice barely a whisper.

"No, no. Just Will, Penelope, Luke along with Matt and me. It happened about eight months ago. She fell down playing with the kids and passed out. Will brought her to the hospital, they said it was because she was so stressed."

"Because of work?" Spencer voice was squeaky as worry clouded his face even more.

Kristy's voice was soft but also annoyed. "No, because of what has been going on with you and JJ. She hasn't been herself since then."

You finally made it to the party, your nerves getting to you. Your doctor had confirmed the baby was fine and growing healthy. But you were worried, so worried. What if this ended up like before? Your worrying hadn't died down and Spencer hadn't down anything to change that.

Opening up the front door, you made your way into the house, the house filled with laughter and noise. Your eyes scanned for Spencer, but you couldn't find him. You eventually found Kristy; a smile plastered your face as you hugged her tight. She was one of the few people who could make you naturally smile.

"Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that you hadn't told Spencer, and I may have told him what happened." Her words fast and covered in worry.

"It's okay," you told her, your hands rubbing her arms. "I just haven't had the heart to do it."

"I didn't tell him what was going on now though." Kristy eyed your too big sweatshirt that had covered your bump before squealing. "How did it go?"

You laughed at her enthusiasm. "It went well, the doctor reassured me that everything was okay. They're healthy and happy. And no, I did not find out the sex either, so don't ask." Her face turned into a pout, and you couldn't help the laugh that slipped out. "Where is Spencer? I think we should definitely talk."

You made your way over to the back patio that Kristy said she had last seen him. You were going to come clean with everything that has happened the last eight months, but your determination faltered when you saw Spencer hugging JJ close to him, her hand rubbing circles on his back.

Diana was calling you. Which was strange since she hasn't called you in months. You answered and made your way to a quiet place in the house. You were happy she remembered you, the conversation flowing nicely before she told you about Spencer's visit. What he said and how he felt. She was worried about him, and as his childhood best friend she wanted to let you know what was said and what she had replied with.

You ended the call with the promise to call her back tomorrow. You sank down to the floor, your growing belly blocking you from curling up the way you wanted too.

What had you been expecting? Spencer finally coming clean to his mom that you were together. You doubted he would now that you had moved out without a word a month ago with no communication since. And Diana had proven you right. He made no mention of your relationship.

You took a deep breath and got up. Fixing your hair, you walked out of Matt's office and made your way to Kristy to tell her that you had finally made up your mind.

Months had gone by with silence.

No word from him.

No word from you.

You only heard what was going on via the team when they checked up on you. You told them that they didn't have to do that, but Emily said you were a part of the family, you had been for years, and not even Spencer's shitty attitude would change that.

Alvez had taken you in after you told Kristy that you were moving on from Spencer and going forth into motherhood alone. Alvez was someone you trusted, and your friendship grew these past few months. He watched out for you, and you watched out for any girl that you could set him up with. He said it was a win-win situation for him.

You didn't see each other anymore than friends, brother and sister if you really thought about it. But you were grateful for that. You needed it and Alvez enjoyed your company and having someone to watch Roxy while he was on cases. He helped you every time you cried about Spencer especially when you went to your baby appointments and your hormones would make it hard to concentrate on anything but the fact that you were doing this alone. Spencer had already moved on, and you were having his baby alone.

But this perfect set up wouldn't last. The baby was coming soon, and you had to find a place that you could have a proper nursery or at least more space than Alvez's tiny apartment. Plus, the chance that Luke would wind up in a relationship was high, any girl would fall in love with his great personality, and you didn't want to ruin what he could have.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, setting up the baby's car seat. "We would all feel better with having you here with the Chameleon running around still."

"I think it would be better to move out, I don't want to get in the way."

Alvez chuckled then sighed. "Y/N, you're not in the way. I know you felt that way for a bit, but you aren't. The team want you safe. So, stay here until we've caught the guy, alright?"

"Alright, but after that I'm moving out."

Weeks have gone by, the team on the lookout for the serial killer that had haunted Rossi. During that time, you had given birth to an adorable baby boy, the spitting image of Spencer. He was perfect and the sweetest baby, sleeping through the night, all the cuddles he gave you. He was just perfect.

Your phone rang, and you quickly got up to grab it before it awoke your sleeping son. "Hello?" You whispered.

"Oh, Y/N, Spencer..." You heard Penelope crying. "He.. he was shaking so badly... Oh my god, Spencer..."

"Penelope, slow down. Take a deep breath. Tell me what's going on."

Her words were rushed and mumbled, but from what you gathered, you were already packing your baby's stuff up and heading to the car before you got off the phone with her.

You rushed into the waiting room to find Penelope and he his mom sitting together. "Oh, Y/N." Diana got up and crushed you into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here."

"How is he?"

Penelope grabbed the baby bag from you. "He's awake now, they ran tests and he'll be okay. They're cleaning him up right now so we stepped out but should be able to see him soon."

You nodded and sat down. It wasn't long before they called you in, you lingered in the back. You hadn't spoken to Spencer for months and you didn't know how he would feel seeing you, especially with the state he was in currently. Plus, you didn't want to make his new girlfriend uncomfortable.

You watched him hug his mom and Penelope, a smile on his face, you could tell he was trying to calm both women's nerves. He chatted with them for a bit until his eyes landed on you in the doorway. He gave you a small smile, his eyes traveling down to the baby carrier in your hands.

His 100-watt smile returned as he looked to his mom and Penelope. "Do you mind if I have a minute with Y/N?" They both nodded and headed out. You lingered in the back of the room, Spencer just watching you.

"How are you feeling?" The silence was deafening, and you wanted to fill the space with something.

"I'll be okay. Is that-?" He nodded towards the carrier. You nodded to his question.

"Did you want to meet him?" You stepped closer when he gave you a small nod. You unhooked the still sleeping baby from his car seat and brought him over to meet Spencer. Spencer reached his arms out and your heart tightened a bit at the sight of your baby being held by his father for the first time. You gently laid your son in his arms, his face brightening with a big smile.

You sat there for a few minutes watching him make faces at your baby, cooing occasionally. You didn't even realize you had started crying until Spencer called your name, worry on his face.

"I'm sorry..." You quickly wiped the tears away.

"It's okay. Thank you for letting me meet him. What's his name?"

"Oh, um, he doesn't have one yet. Every time I think something may sound right; it just doesn't fit." You reached over to fix the blanket that was near your son's face. "The deadline is coming up, so I'll have to settle on something."

Spencer nodded; his one hand came up to stroke his son's face. "You'll find the right name, I know you will, Y/N."

Something in the way he said your name, made you break down. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing or how weak your legs felt. Spencer moved the baby and grabbed your hand, pulling you down to sit on the bed and held you close to him as you sobbed.

Your baby's cough stopped your sobs instantly and you whipped around to look at you sleeping sons face. You rubbed your hand over your face. "Have you been doing this alone?"

You nodded in reply. "I don't want to bother Alvez. He barely comes home with the Chameleon on the loose."

His hand found your face and cupped it gently, your tears still flowing. "I'm sorry I haven't been there. You've done it all alone. I should've been there."

You shook your head quickly. "It was me. I decided this. I didn't tell you." A sob escaped your lips. "It was just so hard without you there." Spencer opened his arm wide, inviting you to cuddle in and you did. You sat like that for a long time, Spencer's arm rubbing circles on your back as you held your arm over his other arm that was holding your son, your head on his chest.

You lifted your head up and looked at Spencer, his eyes on locking onto yours. The draw was powerful and neither of you realized what was happening until your lips touched. After that, you couldn't keep your lips off of him. Both of you pressing your bodies as close as you physically could with a baby in your arms, the need for each other growing with every second. You pulled away for air, guilt instantly hitting you.

"Spence... we shouldn't do this..." You mumbled between Spencer's kisses.

"Why?"

"Because... You have a girlfriend..." The assault on your lips continuing and you were trying not to enjoy it.

Spencer pulled away; his eyes still locked onto yours. "I don't have a girlfriend. I mean I did but I don't anymore. It- it was a fling to try to get over you, but I just couldn't, especially when I found out about our baby. I just want you, Y/N."

"But JJ...?"

"I was confused over what she said, that was wrong of me, but I knew I always needed you with me. I may be smart but I'm dumb when it comes to my feelings. When I found out you lost our baby, I lost it at the shower and JJ encouraged me to talk to you but when I came home you were gone." His eyes started to water, and he pulled you and your baby closer to him. "I've been a mess, barely sleeping, barely eating. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, I know what I've done is not excusable and you have every right to not want me in your life, but I need you."

"Y/N!" Spencer whisper yelled at you to get your attention. You looked up at him to find him pointing at the sleepy baby he was holding. You walked over, a smile on your face to see your baby sleeping with his tongue slightly sticking out through his smile.

You giggled, wondering how you got so lucky to have such an adorable baby. "Are you almost ready to go?"

Spencer nodded, before reluctantly putting his sleeping son in his car seat. "Do we have to leave him?"

You giggled again at the silly pout on his face. "As much as I want to stay with him, I think we both need to mentally get out of this house." He nodded as he picked up his son's car seat and diaper bag before making his way out of the house with you locking up behind him.

After dropping your son off at your mother's, Spencer and you made your way to Penelope's sendoff party. Spencer placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing circles against your skin. He knew how anxious you were to be away from your child, hell he was just as anxious, but he knew you needed to see your friend off or you wouldn't forgive yourself.

He felt you relax after a minute, and he gave you a smile when you looked over at him. You sighed and continued to look at Spencer, taking in his features and how attractive it was watching him drive with one hand on your thigh.

The first few weeks after your reunion with Spencer was awkward. You didn't know how to react to everything going around you. The case was wrapped up, Penelope announced she was leaving, and Spencer wanting to get back together. Spencer and you took it slow, not wanting to rush into things, just learning what you both had miss, you decided on being friends and he had suggested in both of you getting a place together so it was easier to raise your son and Alvez could have his place back.

You declined at first but after some thought and Spencer showing you pictures of a few houses on the market, you caved in after seeing a two-story house with its wrap around porch and lilac bushes covering the front yard. All you could picture was your son running around the house playing as you sat on the porch in the early mornings, a book in hand. Since then, the next month and a half was getting the house turned into your home.

The friendship thing worked at first, but somehow you would end up staying up waiting on Spencer to come home from cases, him carrying you to bed when your body couldn't keep yourself awake. The early mornings where you cradled your son as you sat on the couch, Spencer's arms wrapped around you from behind, his face next to yours as he cooed at your little one. The random make out sessions in the kitchen when the tension became too strong.

And one night he gave you such a scare.

You sat waiting up for him, he had sent you a text that he was on his way home, but he wasn't answering your calls, and you feared the worse when he wasn't home hours later. When you heard the front door open, you stomped your way from the kitchen to see his smiling face, arms full of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. His smile faltered when he saw how angry you were, tears streaming down your face.

You yelled at him, careful not to walk the sleeping child upstairs, but enough for him to realize how angry you were with him. You angrily put away the groceries, telling him that he should've brought a charger to plug in his dead phone, or let her know that he was going to the store instead of saying he would be right home. He didn't understand why you were so upset with him, his brain too tired to figure it out until you blurted out that you loved him. He looked at you with an apologetic smile before pulling you into his arms, apologizing for worrying you.

Sighing in his arms, you looked up at him, the joke you were about to say escaping your mind when you saw the hunger in his eyes. He took your face in his hands and brought his lips to yours. The kiss was full of passion and love and when you pulled away for air, he told you he loved you. After that, the night was filled with passionate kisses and love making.

You smiled thinking back on the memory. Spencer still took things slow with you; he told you he didn't want to mess up his second chance. He slipped his hand on the small of your back as you made your way into Rossi's backyard.

All night Spencer seemed nervous, but you played it off on his dislike for change and Penelope leaving was a big change for him. You squeezed his hand that was on his chest as you slow danced to the music that was wafting around you. You nuzzled your head in his chest as you swayed even when the music stopped playing.

"Y/N." You looked up at Spencer's face, his dark eyes on yours. He kissed the back of your intwined hand and pulled away from you. He reached into his pocket and kneeled down as he pulled out a box. He opened the box to reveal a tear shaped diamond ring, your right hand covering the gasp that came from your lips.

"I know I said I would take it slow, but I can't imagine my life without you. I want to wake up beside you every morning, go to bed with you in my arms, play with our son in the backyard and watch him grow up and continue growing our family." A few stray tears fell down both of your cheeks, a smile stretching across your face at the mention of expanding your family. "I want you and your love, the gentle smiles you give, your contagious laugh. I don't ever want to let those go. You are my home, you are the only one I think of all day, the one who can calm me down with just one look, word or touch. I need you in order to be me. So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you please be my wife?"

"Yes!"

#criminal minds bau #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenarios #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #reid #criminal minds penelope #jj criminal minds #luke alvez #rossi #david rossi #matt simmons #emily prentiss

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maidragoste · 11 months ago

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hey , si only 8 days till the first episode arrives sooooooo , will we blessed with new the queen and her husband content ? ;)

Hi anon, a day late but here you have new content of the Queen and her husbands, this time Aemond is not present in this but I still hope you like it 🥰🥰

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated 💖💖

Series masterlist

Prince Daeron snuggled deeper into his hiding place as he heard footsteps. He silently waited for whoever he had entered to leave. But then the long tablecloth that covered the table was lifted, revealing his parents crouching down.

“Is there a place for us?” His father asked with a smile and normally Daeron would have calmed down when he saw it but with the words of his grandmother and the maester still running through his head, he wanted to cry.

You and Aegon exchanged a worried look when you saw that your son only nodded with his lips in a straight line, nothing like your always happy baby.

The prince saw how his parents took the crown off their heads and then left them on the floor and got under the table with him. Father pulled the tablecloth again to hide the three of them from the rest of the world.

Daeron felt warm and loved with his body pressed between yours and Aegon's. He wanted to stay there forever, with father holding you two and your hands gently stroking his hair while you hummed his favorite song. But he knew that his parents couldn't stay hidden with him forever because you were king and queen and you two had many things to do and he also had to return to his lessons.

“Am I grounded?” he asked making you stop humming.

“Should we punish you?” Aegon asked instead making his son look at him confused.

“I ran away from my lessons,” the prince said, not understanding why neither you nor Aegon seemed upset or angry with him.

“We know, your grandmother and the maester told us,” you told him.

Both you and Aegon noticed how Daeron grew smaller at the mention of adults. You watched as your husband frowned and clenched his jaw. You had no idea what was going on in his head but it clearly wasn't a good thing.

“Did they do something to you?” he asked, surprising you and your son. But Aegon didn't mince words, if Alicent or that maester had dared to lay a hand on his son then his mother would return to her family home in Old Town and the maester would be Sunfyre's next meal. “. “Daeron if they did something to you you have to tell us.”

"They didn't do anything," the boy quickly said when he saw the serious look in his father's eyes. He didn't want his grandmother and the maester to get into trouble because of him. "It's just that," he fell silent, not being sure if he wanted to talk about what was distressing him. He didn't want to disappoint you two.

“You can tell us anything, little dragon,” you encouraged him when you saw that he seemed hesitant. “No one will be mad at you,” you assured him and kissed his forehead.

“They said I should do better in my lessons if I want to be a good king.”

Your heart broke as you heard your baby's trembling little voice. And Aegon felt his anger with his mother increase, it had not been enough for him to make him feel inadequate for most of his life and now he made his son feel bad too.

But any anger was forgotten with Daeron's next words.

“But I don't want to be king because if I'm king then it means mother and you aren't with me anymore!” He shouted before bursting into tears and Aegon rushed to pick him up and lift him onto his lap. Daeron's hands quickly latch onto his father's neck as he begins to rock his body from side to side like he did when Daeron was a baby.

You watch with a heavy heart and without knowing what to do. You weren't prepared for this conversation. You can't lie to your son and tell him that the two of you would never leave his side because neither of you is immortal. But you don't want to stay silent either. You want to comfort your baby and make his anguish disappear.

“My little dragon, you don't have to worry about that yet,” you began to speak while you gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Your father and I will live for many years, so long that we will start to bother you and you will want us to leave you alone."

“It's a lie, I'll always need you,” he said, making Aegon laugh and earning a kiss on the forehead from her.

“I'm going to tell you a secret but you have to promise not to tell anyone,” you said as you raised your little finger and your son soon intertwined his own finger with yours, looking at you with his violet eyes full of curiosity.

“Won't you make Father promise too?” He asked when he saw that you didn't extend your pinky to Aegon.

“No, because he has known for a long time and never told anyone,” you responded, making your husband smile and you leaned in to steal a short kiss, making the prince complain. “Someone’s anxious,” you scoffed.

“Mother, I want to know!”

“Do you remember your uncles Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey?” Your son nodded repeatedly, excited because you didn't usually talk about your brothers as much as Uncle Egg, and Aegon made sure to put one of his hands on Daeron's head to prevent him from hitting the table.” Well, when I miss them a lot they usually come to see me in my dreams. So when you miss us or need us you can look for us in your dreams.”

“And you are always going to come?” Daeron asked anxiously.

“We can't promise that but we'll try,” your husband answered for you when he saw that you weren't sure what to say.

“I hope you make an effort or I will get angry with you,” the prince warned, crossing his arms, but instead of intimidating you, he made you two smile.

“It seems fair to us” You kissed his cheek and Daeron smiled.

“Now stop worrying and go find your brothers to play,” your husband said as he carefully lowered Daeron off of him.

“But my lessons”

“I ran away from my lessons all the time and I'm still a good king, right?”

“Aegon, don't give him any ideas,” you patted him on the back but your husband could see that you weren't seriously reprimanding him or that you were upset by how you were holding back a smile. After all, he sometimes sneaked out of his lessons to be with you. He still remembered how Alicent scolded him when she found him in the gardens with you but he didn't care because in the end, you had made him a pretty flower crown, if it were up to him he would have worn it until the flowers had withered but he could barely use it for two days when his mother forbade him to continue wearing it because he was not acting like a prince. “Today is an exception but then you have to continue attending your lessons with the maester and pay attention,” you said, bringing your husband back to the present.

“If I have to study more then I don't want to be king” the boy complained.

“Being king sounds tough, right?” Aegon sighed dramatically. "But don't worry, your mom and I will take care of everything so when your turn comes you won't have a lot of work to do,” he assured his son as he ruffled Daeron's hair. “Now go to play.”

Daeron smiled and kissed each of them on the cheek.

“I love you,” he said before quickly leaving under the table feeling much better.

Taglist The Queen and Her Husbands:

@watercolorskyy @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @sweethoneyblossom1@fudge13 @alisoncdariel @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @your-favorite-god

@snowprincesa1 @snh96 @rosey1981 @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @hannaeditzs @multi-fandoms-stuff

@zverea @solacestyles @lilithskywalker @justsumtuffstuff @crispmarshmallow @afro-hispwriter @libdarkheart @chevelledahuman @helloitsshitzulover @ladybug0095

@ietss @serendippindots @ultraviollett @akinatrix @papery-maniac @merovingianprincess @hnybitches @m1ndbrand @giulia2372 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry

@bajadotcom @woodandwaxwings @mendes-bae @sustisama @imjustboredso @remuslupinwifee @sarcasticking9 @melllinaa @letsloveimagines @zillahvathek

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writingsbytee · 2 months ago

Text

PARENT TRAP?

AARON PIERRE x BLACK FEM READER

*Remember you are in charge of your own consumption. 18+ up audiences only; minors please don’t interact!* THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

SUMMARY: Doing your best to avoid all signs of your ex, you’re “unknowingly” thrusted back into his presence. Surprise!

PAIRING: Aaron Pierre x Reader (Zara)

WARNINGS: Alcohol Use, Swear words,

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’ve been in a really angsty mood lately, reading a lot of dark romances, and I’m caught in the neverending drama of it all. So naturally, I had to write something myself. It might not be good, but I just really wanted to show love to our man. So read it, don’t read it, I really like this piece. I really want this to have like a 2000s black rom-com vibe, with some modern-day lingo mixed in. I didn’t specify how long the reader and Aaron have been apart; let’s just say anywhere from 8 -18 months.

DIVIDER: @anitalenia

TAG LIST: @nayaesworld @keehendrixx @kimuzostar @theereina @theereinawrites @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @episodes-ff @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrishh @urfavblackbimbo @kianaleani @shallipii @mymindisneverhere @onherereading @earthchica @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @blyffe @melasworld @mogul93 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @simplyzeeka @playgurlxoxo @yassbishimvintage @dbaileyblog @jimmybutlrr @versaceslutz @ruewritesoccasionally @kaylalb @noir-lullaby @jadatingz @madamedantes @charmedthoughts @daughterofapollo-7 @cardi-bre91 @thabiddie23 @mama-2001 @venusincleo @slvt4her

ZARA

“You didn’t tell me HE was going to be here!” you whispered to your best friend, Marnie.

“It’s Kelvin’s birthday, you knew he was going to be here, Zara. Don’t blame it on me, blame it on Kelvin. This whole ‘parent trap’ thing was his idea,” Marnie finished with an eye roll.

“Wait, Parent trap? So Aaron doesn’t know that I’m here?” you ask, a slight edge to your voice.

“I mean, he knew you coming tonight would be a possibility, but did we tell him? No, we did not, surprise!” Marnie ended with a sarcastic smile and roll of her eyes. Your heart rate increases at the thought of seeing Aaron again. Heading to the kitchen with your head on a swivel, you head straight for the drinks. Immediately starting with two shots to calm your nerves. You and Aaron obviously had history, the two year whirlwind romance you shared held a permanent place in your heart. When Aaron’s star started to rise creating more distance between you two, you decided to break it off so he could fully devote himself to his craft. Feelings were still there on your end, but did Aaron still feel the way he used to for you?

“Are you THAT nervous about seeing him again Zee? Because if you are, tell me now, I’ll come up with an excuse and we’re out of here,”Marnie says, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You shake your head, “I can handle it, it just caught me off guard. I’m a big girl, it’ll be fine, plus I can always get an Uber home if you want to stay. I know you’ve been dying to reconnect with Alexa tonight,” you finish with a smirk. Your bestie blushes at the mention of her current crush.

“C’mon we both need to loosen up!”Marnie links her arm with yours, pouring heaping cups of jungle juice for you both. As you both turn to make your way to the main room, Kelvin comes into the kitchen.

“Well, if it isn’t double trouble!! Hey y’all!” Kelvin's jovial nature immediately puts you at ease bringing a smile to your face. Wrapping you both in a quick hug, you and marnie exchange ‘happy birthdays’ to Kelvin. When you glance over Kelvin’s shoulder and you spot Aaron. Looking absolutely scrumptious in a black fitted tee, khakis, birkenstocks, and finishing it all off with his signature gold chain. God, why did he have to be so fine?!

Averting your attention back to your friends, you playfully slap Kelvin’s shoulder. “Y’all asses ain’t slick! You could’ve told me Aaron was going to be here instead of blindsiding me!”, the liquor already beginning to make an appearance.

Kelvin made a face at you, “Zara, he’s my best friend. Did you REALLY not think he wasn’t coming? Because you’re wearing the outfit he likes,”Kelvin finishes with a smirk, raising his cup to his lips.

“Clock-it!!” Marnie squeals, toasting Kelvin.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you take a small sip of your drink, “Fuck you both”

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

AARON

Aaron couldn’t keep his eyes off you. From the minute you and Marnie made your entrance, he’d always feel his eyes drawn back to you. You had to know he’d be here, he thought. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have worn his favorite outfit. The thought made a devious smirk appear on his lips.

“Oh no, what’s that face for?” Kelvin chuckled looking at his friend.

Aaron shook his head, “She’s not even going to come over and say hi? Kel, she’s wearing ‘the outfit’,” he said, his head falling back with a groan.

Kelvin laughs at his friend, “Just go talk to her, you’re acting like y’all aren’t in love with each other. It’s sad.” Kelvin presents a shot glass to his boy, “Take this for courage and go talk to Zee, she misses you man.”

Aaron’s eyes leave Zara’s frame before shooting to Kelvin, “She said that?” His voice held an eagerness that wasn’t missed by him or Kelvin. Aaron shakes his head before taking the shot, he hadn’t even spoken to you yet and here he was 17 years old again.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled, taking a step in your direction

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

ZARA

“Ok, don’t look now, but Aaron’s coming over here” Marnie says, before patting your shoulder twice and walking away. Fucking traitor, you thought. Your eyes met Aaron’s almost instantly, the muted lighting making his eyes appear mossy green. You just stood there, shifting nervously from foot to foot waiting for his approach.

“Funny meeting you here,” Aaron says, winking in your direction. You roll your eyes, a smirk on your face, “Yeah a party at a mutual friend's house, who would’ve thought,” you said, bringing your cup up to your lips.

Aaron notices your reaction and smiles, “How’ve you been, Zee?”

Wanting to deflect, you change the topic,”I should be asking you that! I’m seeing you everywhere now. Congrats! I knew you could do it.” You land a playful punch on Aaron’s arm, immediately cringing at the action. He raises a brow at you, his smirk turning into a full on grin.

“You haven’t changed a bit,”Aaron says, taking a sip of his drink.

An exaggerated scoff leaves your lips, “I have changed! I lost ten pounds and 2 inches off my waist” you finished, with a spin to emphasize your point. Aaron’s eyes slowly trail up your frame. Of course he noticed the slight difference in your physical appearance. He thought you looked absolutely edible, but he’d always thought that. Aaron wanted to know what you’d been up to while you were apart. More importantly, he wanted to know if you were seeing anyone and if he still has a shot.

“You’ve been ducking my calls,” He states, his voice lowering.

You look away, not wanting to meet his gaze, “I didn’t know what to say.”

Aaron’s eyes softened at your confession, you were just as nervous as he was, “Well now that I have you here, you can’t run. How’ve you been Zee? I really want to know.” His tone is light, and inviting which puts you at ease. But, there’s also a depth to it, a genuine interest that’s always been there, even when life separated the two of you.

“I’ve just been working, I got a promotion at my IT firm. I have my own little team now, I’m heading a new proposal for a real estate agency, and I’ve been focusing more on my well-being, physically and mentally. I know it’s a cliche thing to tell your ex, but It’s really all I’ve been doing,” your nerves get the better of you, forcing you to shut your mouth. Aaron just smiles at you, remembering how you once told him about how nervous he made you, he’s glad that aspect of your relationship hasn’t changed.

Pride swelled in his chest at your accomplishments, “That’s what I’m talking about, congratulations Zee, you’re killing it!” He gazes down at you, trying to memorize all your features that may have changed during your time apart. His gaze drifts down, taking in your curves, taking in the subtle changes, “You always look good to me, Zee.” A hint of longing tinges Aaron’s voice, remembering the time you both spent together, the laughter, the whispered dreams shared at 2am over ice cream.

A giddy nervousness mixed with your alcohol consumption caused a warm flush to take over your body. “Enough about me, what’s new with you Mr. Moviestar?” you ask.

A chuckle rumbles in Aaron’s chest at the nickname, though it’s tinged with weariness. ‘Mr. Moviestar” was cute before the fame, hanging out in his little apartment, watching old movies, and dreaming big. Now it feels like a caricature, a mask he has to wear to keep up appearances.

But, for you, he lets his guard down, “To be honest, it’s all been a whirlwind,” he admits. “Shooting schedules, premiers, interviews…it’s non-stop, but it’s a good kind of crazy if that makes sense.”

His eyes meet yours, a silent apology for his absence, the distance, leading to your breakup looming in his expressive doe eyes. “I miss having someone to share it with, to talk to when things get overwhelming.”

A small pout forms on your face at Aaron’s confession. You miss him, how could you not? You didn’t end the relationship because you fell out of love with him, quite the opposite. You loved him so much, you were willing to let him go so he could focus on becoming who he is today. You felt like he wouldn’t be able to do that, while still focusing on maintaining a long distance relationship. With your promotion, came a move. Well it wasn’t really a move, your job is permanently remote and your company didn’t care where you set up shop. So, you packed up and moved to LA, hoping to win your man back.

Aaron’s gaze held yours, intense and searching, as if trying to read your thoughts and feelings. A warmth seeping into your belly, ‘there’s no way he could’ve gotten finer’ you thought. The air between the two of you crackled with unspoken tension, a mix of longing and uncertainty. It was like someone pressed play, feelings you thought were gone now flooding back to the surface with a vengeance. You still felt so deeply for Aaron, time doing nothing to stop or slow down the love you still felt for the green-eyed gentle giant in front of you.

“You know,” he begins, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “Sometimes I think about what it would’ve been like if we didn’t break up…” He trails off, a sad smile taking over his face as he shakes his head slightly. Aaron didn’t want to make you feel guilty for making the best decision for you at the time. “Never mind, there’s no point in dwelling on the past.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, a feeling that’s usually reserved only for Aaron hits you full force. “You’re right you know,” you say a teasing smile makes its way onto your face. “I did wear this outfit for you. Aaron, I moved from New Orleans to LA for you.”

His heart skipped a beat at your confession, a wave of guilt washing over him. Of course, he remembered your move, Kelvin told him about it. His heart raced at the idea of you two being in the same city again. And yet, in the chaos of his rising star, and with you dodging his calls, he stopped checking up on you.

“Aww, baby, I had no idea,” he says, reaching out, his thumb stroking the back of your hand soothingly. His eyes search yours, filled with remorse and a desperate desire to make things right.

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I don’t want to lose you, Zara. Not now, not ever. We can figure this out, I want to figure this out with you.”

You bite your lip, trying to mask the grin threatening to break through. “Well, I should’ve been better at communicating. I let my insecurities about our relationship get the best of me, and our breakup was a result of that. I used your rising star as an excuse. I do want you to succeed and take your career as far as it will go. I guess I just couldn’t see where your civilian girlfriend fits into your Hollywood actor life.”

Aaron looked at you intently, his expression open and vulnerable. “So what changed?”

A nervous expression painted your face, your lower lip finding home beneath your canine, “I missed you. I don’t want to be without you anymore. I think we both deserve another chance to really try and make a go of it for real this time.” Aaron’s eyes light up at your words, a spark of hope igniting within him. He places his cup on a nearby end table, and he cups your face gently, thumb sweeping over your cheekbones as he searches your features.

“I believe you, Zara,” he says softly, conviction coating his words. “And I believe in us. We have a foundation, a history that’s stronger than any obstacle we might face. I’m not losing you again.”

He leans in, his lips hovering just a few inches from yours. “So let’s start anew, okay? No regrets, no more ‘what ifs’. Just you and me, moving forward, together.” With that he closes the gap, lips meeting yours in a tender passionate kiss. The lip lock is a gesture of commitment, of renewal, a declaration that he’s ready to fight for your relationship. To build a future that’s equal parts passion, love, and stability.

As he pulls back from the kiss, Aaron’s gaze remains locked on yours, filled with a depth of emotion that leaves you breathless. He takes a step back, offering his hand,”After they cut the cake, we’re out of here. I meant what I said Zee. I want to prove to you that I’m committed to us, to making this work. To showing you that you’re my priority, above everything else.”

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears at the conviction of Aaron’s words. His thumbs brush under your eyes collecting the moisture before your makeup gets ruined. “I’m a mess,” you say with a sniffle.

Aaron smiles, “But you’re MY mess. Come on baby, I think they’re about to sing Happy Birthday to Kel.” He plants a kiss on your forehead, before grabbing your hand and leading you toward the dining room, excited for this next journey in your lives.

UNTIL NEXT TIME

TEE <3

#aaron pierre #aaronpierre #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre x reader #aaron pierre x black!oc #aaron pierre fanfiction #writingsbytee #tee writes

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syntheticsymp · 2 months ago

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OK, I’ve been obsessed with that man for YEARS and that post about Nikto is one of my biggest headcanons (although there are also other drugs that do the same thing but do the opposite by increasing libido… so I’m sure if he/they knew they’d switch him off immediately, just so he could have his precious little thing shaking and screaming desperately for him, lol). So, figuring he still has dysfunction issues and is a very proud man, I think he’d be pretty good with his hands… I mean, he doesn’t need his dick to make you cum and he’ll prove it… (although I wouldn’t mind using it as a pacifier… ehh… just saying…).

*forehead kiss* Babes, I love the way your brain works. I am obsessed with this. Just thinking about this scenario gave me so many ideas. Nikto is one of the characters I love writing most for because his personality/personalities are so complex. I'd love to hear more of your headcannons because this man deserves more in-depth analysis.

If Nikto’s libido was high, god save his girl. He's not a kind man in the slightest, meaning you'd practically be a living sex toy for him. Round after round, not caring if you passed out on him, which you did many times.

Luckily, his medication was switched back about a week later after he got on it. But not before you were thoroughly molded to fit his stupidly thick cock. You sported a small limp for about a month, but Nikto didn't seem to mind carrying you room to room. It was the closest he could get to apologizing to you.

However, going back on his regular meds came with another problem. His ED was far worse than before. He went to KorTac’s doctor for it, but after being told there wasn't a good solution unless he wanted to go off meds altogether, he put that doctor’s head through a wall. His poor girl would stay empty for a long time. That's what truly irked him, the idea that you would forget how he feels inside you. That you would see him as inadequate. It didn't matter how many times you assured him otherwise, the voices in the back of his head were loud enough to speak over you.

Nikto was never good with affection. The two ways he knew how to show it was either physically doing something for you, or sex. Now that the latter was off the table, he was trying something more… your speed. It wasn’t really working. He wasn’t exactly one for change.

You, on the other hand, were growing used to him. His violent mood swings, what to do during his episodes, everything. The life you had before him was fading the longer you stayed locked inside with him. You started minding this less and less. After all, he claimed he loved you.

Though, he could only give you the closest thing to love he was capable of, if he was capable of love at all.

His hand lazily pet your head as he read some book in Russian. You were perched between his legs, cheek resting against his thigh, lazily pressing kisses to his soft cock. You alternated between that, licking fat stripes down his shaft, and sucking on his one remaining ball. He had lost the other during Mr. Z’s torture, that much he had told you. Occasionally, he'd give you a grunt of recognition, communicating that he appreciated your actions. Though, his lips stayed shut.

This wasn't for sexual reasons. He got nothing out of this, no pleasure aside from the knowledge that he had you wrapped around his finger. Which, oh, he loved seeing you so desperate that you'd suck so diligently on his cock, soft or not. But you knew the truth. You knew this was a tactic to keep you close and quiet while he read his book. You didn't mind, not really.

At least whatever medicine he was on now kept his libido at a dismal. Keeping up with him otherwise would be a nightmare.

Most of your nights with him, when he wasn't disassociating or trying to kill you, were like this. Quiet. Content. Nikto and his little pet. No brutality bleeding over from his job, no voices convincing him to choke you out, just silent affection. He was trying so hard to prove he wasn't rotted on the inside, that he loved you.

Then, Krueger decided to make a comment at work. That man was single-handedly the reason for most of Nikto’s bad moods. Usually, Nikto could block out his partner’s constant dirty jokes and babbling about old war stories, but some things he took a little too personally.

“How’s that little birdy of yours doing?”

That was enough to stop Nikto in his tracks. How had Krueger known about you? It wasn’t like Nikto had told him, or anyone for that matter. You were his, his to keep, his to protect. If your name got out at work, you could get hurt. Nikto knew the consequences of loose lips all too well.

So, Nikto didn’t answer. A glare would do.

He greatly underestimated his teammate’s need to harass whoever was closest. Most people assumed Nikto was the cruelest of the duo, when in reality, it was Krueger. He may hide it behind his signature toothy grin, but Krueger was downright evil, if evil truly existed. The only reason he hadn’t been fired was because he was a valuable asset. KorTac needed its monsters. No sane person would go on the missions Krueger and Nikto did so willingly.

“She’s cute,” Krueger continued. “If she ever needs a proper fuck, send her to me. Poor thing deserves someone who can actually make her come.”

It had been a joke. Nikto knew that. He worked with Krueger for long enough to know how the Austrian messed around. Still, that didn’t stop the comment from replaying in Nikto’s mind over and over. The voices whispered it to him over and over.

Even two days later, when he finally arrived home from deployment, it was still on his mind.

He could make you come. He had done so before, on the rare occasion that the medicine didn’t betray him. Sure, it hadn’t been recent, but he could. Besides, you cared about him anyway. You promised him you did. You wouldn’t lie to him.

Right?

He willed his brain to shut up as he took off his muddy boots, puttng them in their place by the door. It was late. You were probably asleep by now. He could simply get your reassurnce in the morning.

But, then again, why should he have to wait? He had been patient enough when finding you, carefully stalking you, bidding his time before bringing you here. Now that you were his, he shouldn’t have to wait.

Nikto didn’t care to use his stealth training when he moved through his house. He lived there, after all.

He pushed the door to his bedroom open, only to find it empty. Once again, the voices started whispering their honeyed poison.

She must have left us!

You were foolish to leave her.

Krueger was right. You couldn’t please her. You’re the reason we are alone.

Using the heel of his palm, he hit his temple. Did it help? Not really. But it gave him a reprieve, the feeling of physically beating the voices in his head back helping in its own way.

“Nikto?”

He snapped out of his daze. The voices receded. They weren’t far, just at his fingertips, but quieted enough that he could hear you through the fog.

“Yes.” His words were detached, like always. “It is us.”

You were sleeping on the couch, the pink blanket he had purchased for you when you first ‘moved in’ wrapped around your shoulders. You must have stayed up late watching one of your silly TV programs again.

“Are you…” It was important you choose your next words carefully. Nikto was never ‘ok’ and if you brought that up, it would cause a conversaion you did not feel like having at three in the morning. Asking about his deployment would only lead to reliving the memories, and then send his mind right back to that mindset. “Are you my Nikto?”

He nodded. Yes, of course, he was yours. Not the violent alter ego, not the one that wanted to watch you squirm and cry. No, he was the closest personality to sane that existed in his mind.

Sitting up a little straighter, you scooted over to the side of the couch, then pat the spot beside you. Oh, to think six months ago you were doing whatever you could to escape him.

Instead of joining you, Nikto took off his mask. You no longer stared at his scars, they had become more familiar to you than any normal facial structure. The chunk of missing flesh where his cheek once was, exposing his teeth, and the chemical burns that singed off most of his ear and molded part of his eye shut was simply the only face you knew. His short hair was messy with sweat from being hidden in that mask for so long.

Then, he placed his hand on the back of your neck, leaning down to meet you. He pressed his lips to yours forcefully, parting his lips to allow his tongue to slip through. He didn’t waste time when it came to tasting you, he never did.

The sleepy moan that escaped your parted lips was the closest thing a monster like him could get to heaven. Your mouth was warm in a way he was always chasing, hoping that it could somehow thaw the cold that had taken over his heart.

With your half-closed eyes and sleepy state, he quickly had you pinned to the couch, his hands shoving the blankets to the side.

You pulled back for just a moment to breathe before he pulled your back in. He needed to forget about the battlefield, about Krueger, about the voices constantly reminding him of himself. He breathed you in, lungs rattling, the long, scarred-over slit on the side of his nose causing a familiar whistle,

He kept you caged, pressing his crotch against yours. Only to find, once again, that he was soft.

He pulled back, hissing beneath his breath. Your eyes were wide, your eyelashes fluttering in a way that was so delectable. He wanted to fuck you, he knew he did. So why couldn’t he?

Maybe Krueger was right. What kind of man was Nikto if he couldn’t even fill you with his seed? Not that he wanted any of those snot-filled brats, but with you, he still wanted the option. He wanted you all round and pretty for him.

Instead, you were stuck with something broken. A damaged man who had thought he was worthy of you. You were his, he made sure of it. Yet there was always that doubt.

Seeing he had stopped, you started to scoot out from under him. Only for his hand to find it’s natural place on your throat, squeezng enough to keep you still. You had been in this position enough times to know that the worst possible thing to do was to fight him.

“You have been good for us while we were gone, yes?” He hummed, his Russian accent always seeming stronger after he had been gone for so long.

With the pressure on your windpipe, you could only get out a few words. “Yes. I-I have.”

The corners of his lips twitched up and his scars twisted in a way that looked painful. “Then a reward is overdue.”

Your eyes widened as his hand went to push up the shirt you had stolen from him to wear. Like always, you weren’t wearing pants. He never allowed you to, and always threw a fit if you did. Another one of his strange rules. Even if he couldn’t use your pussy the way he wanted to, he still wanted access.

He swiped his finger agonizingly slow up your slit, not entering, simply collecting your slick.

You shuttered underneath him, an action so innocent he couldn’t help finding so beautiful all on its own. All your little reactions, he had them committed to memory.

“Nik-“ You squeaked, nearly going cross-eyed. He hadn’t been intimate with you in a way that stimulated you in a long time. It had only made you that much more desperate.

“Needy thing,” he tutted. “Did you miss us that much?”

The words falling from his lips did nothing to distract you from the way he pressed his thumb against your clit, rolling the bundle of nerves between his fingers. The scars and ridges embedded into his skin rubbed against you in a way that was impossibly perfect.

“Yes!” You blurted out, “I missed you, all of you, so much!”

Tears began to form behind your eyes, and for once, they weren’t caused by pain. He inserted his pointer finger, slowly sinking it into the joint as your walls clenched around him. It wasn't as thick as his cock, but it wasn't bad. With his thumb, he kept stimulating pressure on your clit.

Back, years ago, when Nikto was still ‘Andre,’ he had been a bit of a playboy. His face was handsome in all the right ways, with a sharp jawline and nice facial harmony. Girls, and a few guys, often had interest in him, but he rarely reciprocated any genuine feelings. Nobody ever said he was a good man before he became a monster. He had left many girls crying after breaking up with them, not so much as batting an eye at their tears. But that experience gave him something. The man knew how to use his hands.

Granted, he hadn’t had to in some time, but he certainly remembered. Besides, it wasn't too hard to please you.

He curled his finger inside of you, causing you to squirm beneath him. Then, he started pumping.

Each motion was slow and deliberate. When he was having sex with you, the few times he could, they were all rapid and frenzied, like he was more animal than human. Whatever he was giving to you now was different. Soft, but causing stars in your eyes.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, clinging desperately. It wasn't like you to get worked up so easily, but something about his languid touch, how his finger fit inside you, was other-worldly. The fabric of his hoodie was bunched in your palms as you moaned beneath him.

Warmth pooled in your stomach.

Then, Nikto suddenly pulled his hand away, leaving you as empty as you were before.

“Hey!” You squeaked out, sitting straight up, only for him to push you back down.

The look in his blue eyes was familiar. Dangerous.

At that moment, you realized something. This wasn’t truly for you. Nikto wasn't trying to get you off just to make you happy, even if it was some twisted type of ‘reward.’ He was doing this for himself.

“You do not come until we say so.” He bit out the words like they owe him money, his R’s rolled in a way that was simply delectable.

You nodded quickly, doing whatever it took to get him to continue.

And, after a moment, he did. He resumed toying with your clit, his easy thrusts, he even threw in a second finger once he thought you could handle it. You picked up on his rhythm, practically humping his hand. Perhaps you truly did miss him.

Your first orgasm came easy. Hot, thick spurts of cum slid down his hand, wetting the cuff of his hoodie, leaving you breathless. You expected him to pull his fingers back out after that.

He did not.

He picked up right back where he left off, the aftershocks of your orgasm leaving you even more sensitive.

“Hang on, wait,” you tried to say and move away.

Only to once again find his free hand on your throat, holding you down. This time, he was not as kind to your pussy. His thrusts got deeper, harsher. And those damned baby-blue eyes were fixated on the way you took him. The way your cunt swallowed his fingers, the cum sqeulching as he pushed in, made him swallow.

“No.”

Making you cum once was not enough. He had so much lost time to make up for. Curling his fingers in, thrusting so deep he swore he could feel your womb, sloppily making out to swallow your moans, it was all he ever needed.

You lost count of how many times you came. He did not. A chorus of your screams and his rough, Russian words filled his home. Luckily for him, the two of you were far enough away from society that nobody would walk in. He didn't have to hold back or muffled your pretty voice.

The night dragged on for hours, his hands never seeming to get tired. Nikto had the training of a soldier and the endurance of one as well. Not even the devil himself could pull him off of you. All he could do was stare at you, never growing tired of your expressions, the ratio of pleasure to pain finally at a balance.

It was around seven in the morning when Nikto decided he was done with your reward. You had passed out around twenty minutes earlier and couldn't take another round, not even unconscious. So he scooped you up and finally, finally took you to bed. While he didn't need sleep, you did.

He brushed your hair out of your face as you lay in his lap. You were just awake enough to tug gently at the elastic of his pants.

With a small twitch of his lips, Nikto did as you wanted, and pulled down his pants just enough to free himself. Even after everything he did to you, every mind-numbingly hot face you made, he was still soft.

But, for whatever reason, he no longer felt guilty about it. How could he, when you sleepily slipped the thing into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip, just wanting to have him there.

This was probably his favorite ‘welcome home’ he had ever received after a deployment. His fears had been wiped away so easily.

Nikto had no clue why Krueger’s words had gotten to him. Clearly, Nikto could make his precious little thing cum as many times as you needed, as many as he wanted. And you seemed more than happy to fall asleep on his lap, face buried in his crotch, using his cock as a pacifier. He was wrong to ever doubt that.

You were made for him just as he was made for you. Forever and always, you were his.

#call of duty #cod x reader #nikto x you #nikto x y/n #mwii nikto #andre nikto #nikto imagine #nikto x reader #cod nikto #call of duty nikto #nikto #nikto fanfic #smut

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shorthaltsjester · 1 year ago

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there is something so, so devastating to me about imogen having spent the past weeks utilizing how much like her mother she appears to be as a way for the hells to gain intel and slip past different situations but how significantly her like . relvin vibes have increased in the past couple episodes. and of course we only have the one interaction with him but the temult dynamic is one of the ones that spins my brain around in knots. there is something very juicy to me about an imogen who can’t escape her mother’s fate because she looks like her spitting image and has her same powers and who can’t escape her father’s fate because she’s also powerless watching the woman she loves disappear.

like relvin in that visit is of course walled off and he’s decades down the road of having seen the woman he loves disappear into the unknown of her powers and what we got of his response to liliana and the idea of helping imogen save her wasn’t unlike imogen’s recent response to laudna. his comment that he always figured that liliana would realize gelvaan wasn’t the place for her, he just also hoped they’d go together when she left is like the domestic small town mirror of imogen’s illogical but real griefguilt about leaving laudna alone by fighting against predathos. i mean relvin specifically brings up that he doesn’t know if liliana was lying to him the whole time about her powers or if she didn’t know either, “it’s a lot to take in at once. you think you know someone, there’s a whole part of their life that they just been keeping secret from you. i was angry. i’m still angry. but you know, a little part of me wants to believe she was just doing it to protect you.“ a sentiment echoed by imogen’s responses to laudna the past few episodes.

and at the end of that gelvaan visit, relvin speaking up enough to tell imogen to “tell her…” but not having anything to say. because liliana made her choice and he knows his words didn’t mean anything before. imogen just watching as laudna shoves a dagger into her own chest, imogen telling her “i’ll always love you, laudna. i just don’t know what to do with it.”

god, in general, imogen who grew up knowing that love isn’t enough. that love is important and it’s a lot, but not enough. relvin and imogen standing with a chasm of grief and a silver locket between them and “i never want you to be afraid of me, daddy” “me neither.” and laudna’s “i don’t like people being mad at me.” and imogen’s “i know.”

because imogen is her father’s daughter. like absolutely with anger at him and complexity in that relationship but silly little cowboy jokes aside, the values imogen expresses are ones that — when not ones born of her experiences with her powers — seem very much contextualized by her upbringing. i mean the ideal life that she dreamt of and dismissed with laudna someday when the apocalypse is over is a small cottage with some horses. relvin lives in a farmhouse furnished for one.

i’ve talked before about how For Me the most fruitful lens for viewing imogen’s story is one of generational trauma, and i think the reasons for that re: liliana are obvious. but i also think that being raised by someone who isn’t privy to the intricacies of whatever haunts their spouse enough that it’s been passed down is another sort of fucked up legacy and i am truly delighted/sorrowed by how messily and interestingly imogen sits at the intersection of these dual temult legacies; one of leaving and one of being left.

#imogen temult #relvin temult #liliana temult #laudna #imogen + laudna #the temults #cr3 #cr spoilers #critical role #very slowly tryin to put together a webweave about this but . god laura will make characters with the most interesting family dynamics #and matt will run wild with them and i am left to witness and lose my marbles about it

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jawbone-xylophone · 1 year ago

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Okay time to be really opinionated: I think almost the entire TMA fandom writes Michael Distortion wrong.

Every time I read a fic about him people are emphasizing how swirly and elongated he/it is.

What's scary about Michael is that it is essentially the living personification of gaslighting. He makes everything else metaphorically swirly.

Sure there's "nobody would believe you", but most people who meet Michael think he looks angelic. He only looks scary out of the corner of your eye, or if he's feeding you just enough truth to get your guard down. He's fun to draw and describe as a psychedelic nightmare, but he is basically the gaslighting demon. It's a polite young man with curly hair and a beautiful smile who you could absolutely take home to meet your mother.

You only know he's a monster because your lizard brain starts screaming.

On a related note, its portfolio also includes dissociation and hallucinations, and nobody takes enough advantage of that– like, kissing Michael. Lots of people describe kissing Michael as a very physical event with notes of static and that tingling sensation of limbs falling asleep. A good start, but my argument: you feel him smooching your cheek and giving your hand a cute little squeeze, despite the fact that he's across the room ordering a coffee. It feels so real. You can feel his callouses catching at your fingers, but no matter how you flex your hand there's nothing there but air. You don't know if you just want it that badly and your eyes are lying, or what. He brings you a coffee and the sensation vanishes.

I know exactly what that episode about "the man who wasn't there" was because I've experienced it, and nobody utilizes that enough. Have you ever closed your eyes and tried to walk through a room, and been Firmly Convinced there was an object in front of you you were about to run into, despite no evidence of such an object when you open your eyes? It's a little like that. Any sort of relationship with Michael Distortion (not recommended and likely a way it has killed many people) would involve you getting comfortable with the fact that your senses are lying to you at an exponentially increasing rate, like a frog slowly being boiled alive.

Is he there? Is he not? Does it matter? You feel loved. You remember being told good morning and eating a homemade breakfast. Did you actually? Maybe it's a memory from a year ago you only think is from this morning. He's adorable even if his laugh gives you tinnitus. Maybe you've always had migraines. He takes care of you through them. Can you remember what he does to take care of you? ....normal people stuff, probably. Ice packs. You think he brought you ice packs once. You're sitting at a bus stop, going... somewhere, for a reason you're sure, and your body is telling you you're sitting on his lap but you keep checking, tapping with your nails, and the seat is hard metal. Does it matter? Maybe it really is him. You'd prefer if it was him. These cute little hallucinations are his way of showing affection. It's comfortable, even when the city shuts off your water because you only thought you paid your bills. He gives you his coat in the rain, and you laugh together and run through the weather, but when you get home you're holding a stranger's purse full of cash instead of a coat and you have no idea why. It's his idea of affection, though. He says he loves you when you ask about it, anyway, and don't you need the money now?

He's a lovely young man and the only normal thing in a world gone mad. The gloves only come off when it's done playing with its food.

#thrak speaks #tma podcast #michael distortion

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choisanboobenthusiast · 2 years ago

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Princess

Pairing: sub!mingi x fem reader

Genre: smut MDNI

Word count: 3.0k

Summary: Mingi is inexperienced, you're not. He finally feels ready to take the next steps in your relationship and you find he is surprisingly more subby than you would have thought.

Warnings: fingering, oral both receiving, established relationship, begging, overall sublike behaviors portrayed by Mingi, reader is a little bit of a switch if you squint? Idk not a lot of warnings here, Mingi has a huge dick and you give him the sloppy toppy, okay? please let me know if I need to add something

a/n: Considering a part two on this based on how well it is received. Personally I live and breathe sub Mingi so I wouldn’t be opposed to a second part. This is my first smut oneshot so any feedback is appreciated 🫶🏻

Part two

You and Mingi had fooled around plenty of times in the near month you two had been dating but things had never escalated to sex. Sure, things got heated but the night usually ended with you naked beneath him as he got you off on his tongue and fingers while he still had his pants on. He was never shy about shedding his shirt, always proud to show off the top half of his body. And why wouldn't he be? He'd worked hard to achieve his current physique.

But when it came to sex you knew he was a little nervous, having only gone that far on a few occasions whereas you were pretty experienced. You never pushed him in that direction, wanting him to be completely comfortable before he got fully undressed with you. And he seemed pretty content with just getting you off, not like you were complaining about that but you wanted to make him feel good too.

Your current situation wasn't much different from any of the other times you two had gotten frisky. You'd gone to Mingi's for a night in of watching your favorite show and eating lots of crappy snacks. A couple episodes in though Mingi had started to trail his hand up your thigh, squeezing it slightly. This wasn't always sexual for him, he really just liked to be close to you. So you didn't give it a second thought, enjoying the feeling of his big, warm hands on you as you cuddled. Mingi was a bit like an oven mixed with one of those giant teddy bears, you always felt small and cozy in his arms. It wasn't until his hand inched closer to your core and his lips pressed softly to your neck that you began to take notice of his actions. You weren't surprised, date nights in often took a turn like this.

He continued to leave small, gentle kisses on your neck while his hand massaged the inside of your thigh. You quickly abandoned your tv show and turned your face toward him. He had a somewhat pleading look in his eyes, he always did, although you'd never actually told him no.

Things escalated rather quickly after that, your tv show now being drowned out by your steady stream of moans and gasps as Mingi worked two of his large fingers inside you. He was taking his time, teasing you by not touching your clit and not increasing his pace just yet. Oh no, not until you asked him for it. He loved to hear your voice whine for him and he knew it would if he was patient. And my god, was he patient. Of course he loved pleasuring you but he loved drawing it out too and he was good at it. Better than anyone you'd ever been with. Besides, he just couldn't deny how hard your breathless little voice made him.

"Mingi..." You sighed exasperatedly, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. You knew it's what he wanted and you weren't going to deny him anything right now. "Your mouth, please."

God, he loved it when you asked. He could feel himself growing harder at your request, if that was even possible at this point. He didn't make you ask twice, feeling insatiable himself, and quickly buried his face in between your thighs. You gasped and gripped the couch cushions as he latched his lips onto your clit. You couldn't help the obscenities that rolled off your tongue as he continued sucking on your sensitive bud, finally speeding up the pace in which he fucked you with his fingers.

With his free hand he pressed one of your legs back, your knee and shoulder nearly meeting. You ground onto his face, not being able to control yourself anymore as your hands left their place on the couch cushions and pulled on his short hair. You stared down at the mess of black and blonde between your thighs, thinking you might be pulling too hard. That is until he looked up at you, tongue still lapping at your clit, his eyes more needy than ever. You tugged experimentally and he choked out a whimper. Of course you had pulled Mingi's hair before, you knew he enjoyed it to a certain extent but you'd never been so aggressive with it.

"You like that?" You questioned, your tone genuine.

He nodded and paused for a brief moment to say "pull harder."

You did as he asked and he moaned around your clit, the vibrations of his deep voice causing you to jolt. Mingi had displayed sub-like behaviors before on occasion, usually when you were sitting on his face, which he'd told you was his favorite position to eat you in. A few seconds passed and he pulled away hastily, toppling over you and bringing your lips into a messy kiss, your wetness still coating his mouth. You whined as he removed his fingers from inside you and wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Let's go to my room." He said lowly, hooking your arms around his neck and pulling you up off the couch.

You held onto him tightly as he began walking the both of you toward his bedroom, his hands gripping the underside of your thighs to keep you from falling. You played with his hair and nipped at his neck as your naked body rubbed against his clothed one as he hadn't even managed to peel his shirt off yet. You began grinding against him as best you could in the position you were in. You just couldn't help yourself, you could feel how hard he was through his sweatpants.

"Want you to grind like that on my face, baby." He whispered in your ear before lying down on his back with you hovering above him. You didn't answer and instead continued to kiss his neck and his jaw, loving all the little sounds you were pulling out of him. He groped your ass, attempting to push you upwards to get you where he wanted you. "Please." He whined. "Wanna taste you again. Please baby."

"Okay, but take this off first." You tugged at his white t-shirt and sat back on your heels.

"Whatever you want." He replied quickly, almost as if he didn't mean to say it, like it was a confession and began pulling his shirt over his head.

"Whatever I want, hm?" You questioned and he stopped midway through removing his top, holding it over his face.

"Yes." He answered quietly, the words muffled by the fabric covering his mouth. "Whatever..." He took a deep breath. "Whatever you want."

You giggled at him and his sudden shyness. He had only ever been shy like this towards the beginning of your relationship when he'd admitted to you that he was super inexperienced. You didn't mind though, secretly taking pleasure in teaching him, especially because he was very eager to learn just how to pleasure you. He'd done all the basics before but just like with sex he had really only done them a handful of times. He had quickly become super comfortable with you and you wondered now if his sudden word vomit meant what you thought it did.

"Mingi?" You pushed his shirt over his head, revealing his pink tinted cheeks. He averted your gaze immediately as his cheeks turned bright red with embarrassment. "You mean whatever I want?" He nodded silently, his lips pressed together tightly. You chuckled at him again, assisting him in removing his shirt completely and tossing it to the side. "So... if I told you to take these off too?" You fingered the band of his sweatpants and ground yourself onto his cock. He whined in response, finally working up the courage to look you in the eye.

"Y-yeah." He breathed out. "I'll take 'em off."

You bent down to kiss him, hands wandering over his toned chest. "I'll do it for you, baby." You said quietly in his ear.

You were slow with your actions, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine. You kissed down his jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of his collarbone as his breathing got heavier. He was raking his fingers through your hair, holding it away from your face gently as he watched you go lower and lower, leaving a trail of wet kisses down his abdomen. The muscles in his stomach tensed when you palmed him through his sweatpants and he sucked in sharply.

You had waited for this for a while, what felt like quite a long time. You were excited to finally be able to give back to him what he had given to you so many times. Not only that but you were dying to know what he looked like from the waist down, what he tasted like and what he felt like, in every sense of the word. You had certainly felt him through his pants pretty often so you had a fairly good idea of his size, you knew he was big but you could only tell so much with a barrier in place.

After what felt like a very long time of nothing but kissing and touching his chest and his arms you finally hooked your fingers into the top of his sweatpants. You shuffled your body down to rest around his knees and carefully began pulling the fabric down his hips. You very quickly realized he wasn't wearing any boxers as he lifted himself slightly off the bed to allow you to pull his pants down further.

"No underwear?" You teased, deciding to test the waters. "Naughty boy."

He gulped and stuttered. "I-I knew you were coming over so I didn't... put any on." You couldn't lie, he was adorable like this. With his face flushed, ears pink and that same pleading look in his eyes. There was no denying it, he liked the way you were treating him.

You had to stop yourself from audibly gasping upon getting his pants down his thighs, seriously. This is what he's been hiding? You thought before gently wrapping your hand around the base, your fingers unable to meet. "Mingi, you're... huge." You placed your other hand around him, running your thumb over his sensitive tip, already leaking precum. He choked out a sound you'd never heard him make before as his hands flew to cover his face. Was he embarrassed? Usually men of his size were more than happy to show it off. You wondered if this was why it had taken him so long to be intimate in this way with you.

"Sorry, I-I know I'm big. Maybe I should have said something or.. I don't know." He rambled. "We can stop if you want."

"Stop?" You began running your hands up and down his length. "Mingi, why on earth would I want to stop?"

"Cause aren't you kind of ungh i-intimidated?" His hands flew to fist the sheets, eyebrows furrowing as you continued your slow motions. "I don't wanna hurt you." He cringed at his own words.

"Don't worry about me. I promise, I'll be fine." You shifted off his legs, releasing your grasp around him and pulling his pants all the way down his legs. You'd always known Mingi had huge thighs but getting to see them like this had you drooling. You ran your hands over his tense muscles and he shivered beneath your touch, looking at you with desperation, plush lips parted ever so slightly. "I bet you don't really know how to use this thing, huh?" You teased, stroking him a single time. His breath hitched and he shook his head.

"Sh-show me." His voice nearly a whimper. "Like you showed me everything else."

He was unbelievably hot like this, naked, sprawled out on the bed for you with his face scrunched and chest heaving. So desperate to be touched. You knew you could get him to beg for it. You knew that he wanted to. You danced your fingertips lightly over his cock and ran your hand up his chest, resting it softly at the base of his neck.

"You want me to show you?" You asked, kissing his shoulder. He nodded quickly. You brought your lips up to his ear and whispered. "Big boys use their words."

"Yes, I want you to show me." He answered, his voice quiet and deep.

"Hmm." You trailed your fingers across his collarbone and over his chest, testing another boundary by grazing one of his nipples. He sucked in sharply. "It doesn't sound like you want it that bad."

"I-I do!" He protested. "I do want it, please, I want it so bad."

"Okay, since you asked so nicely." You smirked, shifting to straddle his legs again as your hands wrapped around his cock, stroking gently. The idea of riding his face now long forgotten as you continued to pump him slowly, avoiding his sensitive head to tease him.

His hands were still fisted in the sheets as he watched you. The sight of your tiny hands around his huge cock enough to cause his muscles to tighten and his breath to quicken. His eyebrows strung together as breathy little moans fell from his parted lips and his hands flew to clutch at your thighs as his hips began to buck up every now and then.

"Please." He mumbled, fingers pressing harshly into your flesh. "Please, more."

"Oh Mingi, you beg so nice for me." You finally allowed your thumb to swipe over the head of his cock while you stroked him, earning you a string of whines as he pressed his head back into the pillow.

"Fuuuck." He groaned.

"You want more?" You asked, quickening your pace just slightly. "Want me to suck you off?"

"Fuck yes." He answered, squeezing your thighs.

"Gonna be a good boy and sit still for me?" You shuffled further down his legs, his hands falling back onto the sheets.

"Yes, I'll be good, I promise." He breathed.

"Who knew you were such a sub, Mingi?" Before he could utter another word you took the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it gently and running your tongue along the slit. His hands flew into your hair immediately, aiding you in keeping it away from your face while also enjoying the image of your lips wrapped around him. He was too large to fit all of him in your mouth but you tried you best, taking in as much of him as you could until he hit the back of your throat. Once you had as much of him in your mouth as you could manage you peered up at him and god, was he a sight. Mouth agape, body glistening with sweat as his large chest heaved and his eyes stared back at you. You began moving your mouth up and down his length at a languid pace, making sure to hold eye contact with him and keeping a hand on the base of his cock to jerk off what didn't fit in your mouth. Your other hand massaged his hip and thigh gently as you continued your ministrations.

"Feels mmph feels so good." He brought his lower lip in between his teeth as he continued to watch you bob your head up and down his length, the muscles in his abdomen flexing over and over again involuntarily.

You popped your mouth off of him momentarily to take a breath, a string of your spit and his precum connecting your lips to his leaking member. As you caught your breath you licked him like a popsicle, relishing in all the pretty noises you were pulling out of him, sounds you'd never heard him make before, moans and whimpers you could listen to on repeat.

"I'm gonna cum." He suddenly announced, his grip on your hair tightening.

"Already?" You mocked, flicking your tongue over his sensitive tip.

"Unngh, yes." He whined, his body beginning to writhe beneath you, eyes closing tightly. "Please, please put me back in your mouth." He pleaded desperately. "Wanna cum in your mouth, please."

"Do you think you've earned that?" You began to suck on his cockhead again and he groaned loudly. You loved how vocal he was being, never having heard him like this before.

"I will!" He cried. "I'll do whatever you want just, fuck, please let me."

You didn't make him beg anymore and took him back into your mouth quickly. His hips bucked up at the feeling of your hot mouth enveloping him again and in seconds he was moaning louder than ever before. "C-cumming, I'm uhhnf-" His voice caught in his throat as he released in your mouth, holding your head down until the tip of his cock nudged at your throat. You couldn't help but choke around him as you did you best to swallow his load, surprised by his sudden movements. After a few moments his dick stopped twitching and he released his hold on your head. You came off him with a gasp, wiping the remnants of his cum from your lips and chin with your hand. He lied breathless beneath you as his cock began to soften, eyes still closed.

"Mingi..." you moved to straddle his waist, hovering above him, not quite letting your bodies touch. You stroked your hands gently over his chest and took his flushed face in your hands before kissing him roughly. He moaned into your mouth as your tongues slid over one another's, not seeming to care that you tasted like him. His hands fell weakly on your hips, tugging slightly, urging your body to make contact with his. "Mingi." You repeated, petting his hair softly, waiting for him to open his eyes and look at you.

"Hmm?" He questioned, a tiny content smile on his lips.

"Would you look at me a second?" You giggled. He opened his eyes then, although only about halfway. "Do you want to keep going? You seem a little... sleepy?"

"No, no, I'm not sleepy!" He protested. "Just felt so good." He sighed happily. "You're really... you're really good at that." He confessed with a grin.

"Thank you." You smiled genuinely down at him. "You did so good for me." He blushed at your praise and gave the flesh of your hips a languid squeeze.

It's not long before Mingi is rummaging through his nightstand, searching for a condom, while you discard that last bit of clothing you had on, eager to continue.

part 2…

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #ateez smut #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi x reader #song mingi smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot

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michelle-is-writing · 10 months ago

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Interview, Matthew Gray Gubler

He's so goofy, I love him

Word Count: 2.1k~

(C/n) : Character name for the show

I think even after all the years of doing acting, I will never be able to feel completely comfortable in an interview. Over time, it's gotten easier, but the lingering feeling of nervousness still creeps up into me. I always worry I'll say something that can be taken out of context, or I'll blurt out something I wasn't supposed to reveal just yet. However, if I'm with friends or co-workers during an interview, the anxiety isn't so prevalent.

Thankfully, right now, I'm in one of the rooms on set with four of my closest friends as a reporter from a nearby magazine publishing company interviews us. Kirsten, A.J., and Shamar sit along the largest sofa while Matthew and I share the loveseat in the room. It's fitting, actually.

Over time, Matthew and I have formed a relationship with each other outside of filming Criminal Minds. It wasn't planned, of course. We met on set knowing our characters would soon be forming a romantic relationship, and so, we started a friendship to better portray the chemistry on set. However, that chemistry went farther than I could've expected in such a short time, and now we sit as two lovers who can't reveal themselves to the world just yet.

In the show, my character, (C/n), and Spencer still haven't gotten together. They're perfect for each other, my character having been written specifically for Spencer's character, but they have issues like any other two people trying to get together. It's lead to a lot of ups and downs with many fans going online to tell us to just kiss already. Luckily for them, the next episode that's next to come finally breaks through that relationship barrier and our characters get together. Because of this, the producer has told us that it was alright Matthew and I could be together off-screen - however, we must keep our relationship secret and hidden away from the public to avoid any spoilers about the episode being released.

Due to the pressure of trying not to do any of the things I would usually do with Matthew, I'm a bit scared of this interview. I know the interviewer is going to ask us questions about our ever growing on-show relationship - that's a definite. With the increasing romantic tension between our two characters, I don't even think she has to ask any questions to get the answer she wants. It's happening, and it's obvious.

Once the interviewer enters the room, she introduces herself as Lacey and greets us all with a welcoming smile. Sitting down in the only arm chair in the room, she starts off by talking about the recent season to the camera while other cameras pan around to catch video of us all. With all of us being watched and recorded, Matthew waits until the cameras are pointing away from us before sliding his hand discreetly over to mine and linking our pinkies together. The simple action, makes me a bit calmer as a smile soon makes its way to my lips.

"So, JJ And Will," The interviewer starts, facing A.J. with the same smile as before, her arm draped against the arm rest while her leg is crossed over the other. "Are they thinking about having any more kids after this recent one? Maybe another boy, or a girl for change?"

At the question, A.J. smiles with a small laugh. "I think for now, Henry and Michael are enough for Jennifer," She explains, folding her hands together and placing them in her lap. "Plus, I think Mekhai and Phoenix are enough for me at the moment too," A.J. adds, causing all to laugh with her. The boys are wonderful, but with Phoenix barely six months old at the moment, I can understand why she would be apprehensive over thinking about another baby so soon.

"They are adorable kids, A.J.," Lacy tells her, earning a warm 'thank you' back. Turning toward Kirsten and Shemar, Lacey asks them her next question. "What about your characters?" She asks, "Are there anymore developing things to soon come along?"

"Just the same ol' incessant flirting from this old woman," Shemar jokes, earning a slap to his arm from Kirsten much to our amusement. However, Shemar quickly earns his friendship back from Kirsten with a hug as she struggles to keep her angry face. "But it's the flirting that I love! I love it! I'm glad it's incessant!" He further clarifies, taking Kirsten in his arms and swaying her as she laughs at him.

With that, our laughter grows until finally quieting down as Kirsten is back to wrapping her arms around Shemar's neck in a non-threatening gesture. This time, the interviewer turns toward Matthew and me with a smirk on her lips, his hand having already left mine moments ago as we felt the questions coming.

"Now," Lacey begins, her voice slow and calculated. I can't help but feel a bit anxious under her unmoving stare. "We have seen the relationship between (C/n) and Spencer grow and have breakthroughs on-screen, but, my question is..." She then pauses, her smirk turning into a grin. "What all do you have to say about yours and Matthew's relationship off-screen?"

Her question takes me by surprise. All of the questions we've been asked before were centered around the relationship between mine and Matthew's characters - never are they about me and Matthew in real life. We always chalked it up to the fact that we make sure we're careful in not revealing that we do have a relationship, but maybe Lacey just kind of sensed it. Although, how could she not?

"Oh, well," I start, looking over at Matthew as he smiles at me. To the others, it's just a plain, nonchalant smile, but to me, I can see the corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. "Our relationship is nothing more than friends," I lie, my voice calm as I continue lightly grinning. "We play around and joke around with each other constantly. We're very close," I add, being truthful for once. I know that Matthew desperately wants to stop hiding our relationship from the public, as do I, but we can't. At least, not for another week.

Lacey hums a response with the smirk back on her lips. "So, Matthew's arm around your shoulder was just a friend thing?" She can't help but ask.

"Okay, so, we're best friends!" I exclaim, rolling my eyes before letting out a small laugh. "Two friends can put their arms around each other without it meaning anything else. Right, Shemar?" I add, hearing the man in question agree with a 'I know that's right'. Meanwhile, Matthew has his own way of dealing with the unwanted questions.

"Whoah!" Matthew states, leaning back with a blank look, his hands help up in surprise. "Did you just friendzone me, babe?" He asks in a ridiculous voice, making me stifle a laugh. He's so goofy, but I guess he's trying to help me play it off all the while calming me down too. Like anything else he does for me, he's doing it successfully.

"You're lucky I even said 'best friend,' buddy," I add, crossing my arms with a smirk as I lean back against the couch rather than Matthew's arm like before. Meanwhile, Matthew just stares at me with his mouth agape, trying not to laugh at my words.

"Bu-buddy?!" He questions, purposely stuttering the word for a dramatic effect. "My heart!" He shouts, slapping a hand to his chest. This time, everyone begins laughing at our exchange as we smile at each other and slowly settle back down.

Thankfully, realizing that she won't get the answer she was wanting, Lacey doesn't question mine and Matthew's relationship again, nor does she ask anything more about Spencer and (C/n)'s growing relationship either. In fact, her attention is so far away from me and Matthew at this point that she doesn't even notice our new position with my back against Matthew's chest and his arm lazily strewn across my lap. Any other time, this wouldn't be happening, but with us establishing that we're just "friends" like Shemar and Kristen (funny enough, the only two that actually do know about our relationship), I feel as if we're in the clear.

After the interview is over and we're all released to head back to our dressing rooms, I make my way to mine with the intention of taking my makeup off before heading home and taking a nap. Of course, when I say 'home,' I mean mine and Matthew's apartment. Unfortunately, it's yet another thing we have to hide from everyone else.

Just as I toss my used makeup wipe into the trash bin, I hear my dressing room door open behind me before shortly closing afterward with a click. Turning around to see who walked in, I'm greeted by the person whom I want to see the most, and we can't help but smile at each other as soon as our eyes meet. Barely a few seconds pass before Matthew's arms are around me and my lips are on top of his.

Despite our touches being soft and sweet, they soon turn into something more as I find myself pressed against my dressing room counter with Matthew in between my legs and his hands planted firmly on my waist. "Matthew," I murmur in between kisses as his lips move down to my jaw. I know that if we don't stop now, there will be no stopping at all.

"Matthew, we can't," I whisper, pulling myself back to look at him. Staring back at me with lust blown eyes, I watch as he tries to catch his breath while I do the same. Having to hide our relationship everywhere we go builds up a certain passion that sometimes comes out in situations like now. Although, it's usually at home and not where practically anyone can catch us. "Not here."

"Why? No one's going to hear us," He quickly points out, shrugging as if it were nothing. Diving back into my neck, Matthew presses his lips onto the skin of my collarbone, prompting me to move a hand to his head and tug his hair back. Thankfully, this brings a halt to his actions, and instead of crying out in pain, Matthew jerks his head back into my hand and sighs through his nose, smirking. "Unless you keep that up."

Resisting the urge to laugh, I shake my head at him. "That's what I'm saying!" I almost exclaim, moving my hands to the sides of his smiling face. "Besides, we haven't come out as official yet. We were told to wait until next week's episode that way we don't give away our character's relationship at the same time," I remind him, feeling my heart slowly break as his smile falters.

Knowing that I'm right, Matthew sighs before laying his head against my chest in defeat. "I know, but I'm tired of waiting," He murmurs, his voice gentle and almost in-audible. Out of the two of us, I think Matthew's the one that this affects the most.

"Me too," I agree, my hand that had previously pulled at his hair now soothingly combing through the longer locks. "But, it's just another week, just one more," I point out, reminding us both that we don't have to wait that long anymore. "And then we can finally kiss and hold hands and hug without having a finger waved at us."

Nodding with a chuckle, Matthew continues resting against my chest as I massage his scalp. Although, a flip is switched within a matter of seconds and he's back to smirking. "You know, we could always just give them a sneak peek, nothing more," He suggests, turning his head to nuzzle further into the exposed skin from my v-neck blouse.

"Matthew, you are an animal!" I quietly exclaim, laughing as I have to once again push him away. With him grinning playfully, I move to stand back up in front of him, a similar grin making its way onto my face before I lean up and press my lips to his in a soft, but quick kiss. "I do love you though."

Smiling at my comment, Matthew tightens his arms around me and holds me close, my face now pressed into his chest for a change. "I love you too, (Y/n)," He murmurs, lowering his head as I feel him press a kiss to my hair. One more week is all we have to wait before revealing anything, and honestly, I don't know if this man is going to last that long.

And to be honest, I can't blame him.

#matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #bau

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beautifulfrog · 2 months ago

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I'm alive, and it took me almost three months to do this. Just one drawing was really hard to finish, but I hope to be able to post more often. The truth is, I still love Monsters, Inc. and the purple lizard. I'm a little tired, for those who might be wondering. Honestly, I had to change psychiatrists after a really tough incident. But whatever, I think I'll keep drawing, even at my own pace.

Thank you so much for all your comments on my last post; I love you all. In context, I was SO inspired by the alternate story in @randall-simp-nadt88 about Randall going to prison. I think it was a really cool idea, and I couldn't help but think it was intriguing to see another path. That's why I wrote this short story alongside the drawing. Feel free to add and comment on anything. By the way, here in Mexico, mental health hospitals are very different from what one might imagine. Obviously, they can have unpleasant situations like anywhere else, but generally, they're not like in the movies. I'm not promoting any ideas or bad ideas about these types of places; I just wanted to adapt the "shady asylum" stereotype to ME. I just think it was necessary to clarify this.

I'm really sorry if the translation is wrong, I'm still learning English properly.

Ohno

Randall was arrested shortly after he had once again become involved in a conspiracy with another energy company (and again, for having fled two weeks before being found), this time leading to a possible terrorist act in the city. It wasn't long before Johnny Worthington managed to afford him a decent lawyer so he could face a fair trial. Even if the horned one was in prison, he managed to have some power.

The trial took place barely a month after he was captured. Clearly, he didn't have the money to even pay bail. He was completely broke, since after his exile, he had already been classified as a missing person and a fugitive. His apartment was evicted, his family (who didn't even call) took his belongings, and unfortunately for him, the only monster that kept him fed was still in prison. He was alone, with the entire city against him.

Due to protocol and background, he was ordered to remain locked in an isolated cell while in the custody of the authorities.

Cameras monitored his movements day and night, and he was never allowed to go out or socialize with others. He didn't really want that, but he hated every second in there. To add a layer to his obvious humiliation and defeat, he was fitted with an ankle tracker on his hind legs, as well as being required to wear a thick metal collar around his neck that connected to the cell wall. This was normally used for large, aggressive monsters like himself, as monsters were aware of their physical superiority over others. Randall showed discontent, occasionally causing mockery among the guards.

That was the beginning of something serious. Just a short time after being sent to the cell, Randall began to experience some episodes of paranoia. He began to have regular hallucinations about things from the past, voices making their presence felt behind him, small shadows or familiar figures passing by him. The nightmares also manifested during the night, centering on the horrible memory of being repeatedly hit in the face with the sharp shovel. Every time he woke up, he ran in search of a hiding place. But there wasn't one, and this stressed him out.

His aggressiveness toward the police also increased dramatically, as he no longer allowed them to speak to him or approach him. This led to multiple problems and a possible increase in his sentence. His lawyer clearly had no interest in Randall's freedom, but he was working to reduce his sentence, which, had it been a trial held forty years ago, would have undoubtedly condemned him to death. He spoke with the judge privately and agreed to perform a special examination to assess his mental state before the trial, since, in his words, "Randall will not survive prison." With permission, he was taken for X-rays, interviews, tests, and a few sessions with specialists.

The results were a traumatic brain injury, caused by the severe blow to the head he received in the human world (also accompanied by characteristics of post-traumatic stress disorder when he remembered it). His memory, behavior, and reactions suggested that he was unstable enough to appear in court, and that gave the lawyer the opportunity to finish his work cleanly.

On trial day, too many monsters were present to testify against him (as expected, Sullivan and Mike were there, getting on his nerves). They all said the same things...

"He's sick!"

"He's a psychopath!"

"He threatened me constantly..."

"He could have murdered my entire family!"

And when he least expected it, his sentence was final. They said he wouldn't go to prison, and that made him strangely happy for a few seconds before the punishment was announced, followed by a hammer blow.

"You'll go to the city mental hospital, the trial's over."

Randall was indignant and filled with rage after those words, having no idea what it would mean to be locked up in a place where supposedly all those who had no hope of being cured went. The lizard cursed, kicked, and growled at the guards who held his shoulders so they could drag him away. The humiliation and pain increased when he saw for the first time the pitying faces of a few coworkers he'd once had. He was finished.

The most painful part was leaving the courtroom, surrounded by some guards and nurses who would take him to the van of the mental hospital where he would be sent. The press photographed every moment and struggle, even though Randall tried to hide. For protocol and security reasons, Randall was restrained by heavy metal handcuffs fitted to his thin wrists, and a straitjacket that kept his lower arms still.

The muzzle soon covered his mouth, clamping his jaws to deny him the freedom to bite or threaten the journalists intrigued by his case. Randall no longer remembered much of the event and always refused to hear a word about it. It was a total humiliation.

The first few days at the mental hospital were filled with resistance and aggression. Again, because Randall was sent there for a fairly strong criminal record, they had to apply strict protocol to him. They isolated him in a padded room, where they forced him to wear a loose-fitting white shirt so he wouldn't try to take advantage of his unique camouflage.

They also gave him medication based on his diagnosis and the results of the therapy he received regularly (he remained very reserved when asked any questions). He was forbidden to drink coffee for a time, and the food there was relatively empty and boring. Most of the time it was soup, and he couldn't even go to the bathroom without someone having to watch him outside.

The hospital was incredibly large, but Randall didn't know even half of it. He was prohibited from entering and leaving many areas. He lost contact with the outside world; he knew practically nothing about what was going on outside because visits were strictly regulated and his contact with the other inmates was nonexistent. He didn't hang out with them, he thought it was a mistake to be there and that he would soon get out.

Clearly, that wasn't the case. The only privilege he had was that he was occasionally allowed to smoke outside for a while, but someone always had to be there to light his cigarette and make sure it didn't burn. He felt like a child, and that bothered him. Days, weeks, and months passed... Randall accepted his new reality, but it only led to the dreaded depression.

Realizing that he was only sent there because he was weak and because it was the quickest way to get rid of him was a hard blow. Everyone was living their lives out there while he was rotting away in a nursing home for other outcasts like him. No one was going to rescue him, and that filled him with immense despair.

He was the only one who would die alone.

#monsters inc #randall boggs #artwork #frogs #artists on tumblr #monsters university #disney

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space-blue · 10 months ago

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*heavy breathing* it's happening!

At long last!! We don't have all the stories recorded, and we're still hard at work on this project, but we now have enough back up to start posting! And that means... That we are launching the Zevlor Sleep Stories this Friday!!!

Episode #1 is ready to go!!! This is only the title card art, by the lovely @cinnasalmon ! It'll introduce every video in the series. Then past the title card, a surprise first artist aaaaanndd... My own short story!

It was the first recorded by Glen all the way back when, so I'm very hype and eager for everyone to enjoy it. Glen's reading is so great, it actually makes checking him for misspeaks/missing sentences super hard. We struggle not to fall asleep working on this project.

We will upload videos every Friday as long as we have them lined up. And very soon we'll have Omeluum too, with a delightful voice filter made by Devi.

If you're hype and want to sign up ahead of time to get the notification, here's a link to the (currently empty) channel!

Even if you don't care much for Zevlor or Omeluum, lots of the stories are fantastic DnD tales written by talent fic authors, and meant to soothe you as you fall asleep. If you're a big fan of BG3 or DnD, come and check it out!

P.S: reminder that there'll be no ads and no revenue of any kind. It's a project by fans for fans, and even Mr. McCready is a fan in this context. So don't be shy with liking and subscribing as we go on, you'll only be increasing exposure for the project <3

#bg3 #zevlor #zevlor sleep stories #weekly schedule for now #dnd #fanfic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 art #fanart #bg3 fanart #voice actor #glen mccready #omeluum #sleep stories #meditation #come and listen!!#subscribe to the channel

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hunter470 · 6 months ago

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My 9-1-1 RANT

Ok, I don’t normally do these types of posts, but I can’t move on until I get some things out. These are just my thoughts about the latest episodes of 9-1-1 as well as overall comments on the Buck/Tommy relationship. These opinions are mine and are based on the countless hours of TV I’ve watched in my 54 years on this planet, as well as my knowledge of writing and how Hollywood operates. I’m not confirming that any of this is true or are the real intentions of anyone involved with the show. Just my opinions. So, you can agree with me or not. I’m not trying to persuade anyone in any way. Also, I’m not going to get into endless arguments about my opinions but feel free to comment if you want, I just don’t promise I’ll reply.

Ok, here we go. Sorry it’s so long. Like I said earlier, I just needed to get it out. So many wasted opportunities.

If you think TM cares what the fans want, you’re seriously kidding yourself. If he did, Buddie would have been canon a long time ago. The only thing he cares about is ratings and his vision for the show, which can change at a moment’s notice with no rhyme or reason as we’ve seen.

Although I loved Buck and Tommy together, I knew the show wouldn’t do their story justice. So, no matter what TM or OS have said, the bi story was only to garner publicity, draw in new viewers, and increase ratings especially with the show moving to a new network. There was no altruistic reason behind it so don’t kid yourself. They knew there was an audience for the story because of all the Buddie shippers. Just remember, it’s called show business, not show friends for a reason.

Do you think OS really cares about bi representation? Based on his latest comments and non-apology it’s obvious he only cares about getting the stories that garner him the most screen time and press. Seriously, read his latest interviews. He’s excited to get to have fun now. So, congrats OS, Buck gets to F around. Just shows how most, if not all, actors are ego driven no matter what they say. Sorry not sorry.

TM has commented that he doesn’t owe anyone anything. In fact, I recall him saying to Buddie fans if they don’t like it, read fanfiction. If that didn’t clue you in, then you weren’t reading the room. Kinda reminds me of another show runner…for those who watched H50 you know who I’m talking about. That’s why I don’t get heavily invested in these shows. I’ll watch but I never expect anything I like to last…especially if it has to do with gay relationships.

It says a lot that the show remained completely silent about the bullying and death threats Lou received just for playing a role he was happy to play. Again, they really didn’t care because they knew he wasn’t going to be there after episode six. What a great message for all the bullies…just keep bullying and you’ll get what you want.

Again, reread OS’s interviews. He was doing the Hollywood double speak. Says just enough to keep you hooked with hope to get you to watch even when he knew all along it wasn’t lasting. It really was as clear as day if you go back and read what he said.

Also, if you thought Buck was going to get into a meaningful long-term relationship, then you didn’t watch the video from the You Tuber “Call Me Chato” that TM posted on his Facebook. The video was all about characters and how they should always stay fundamentally the same with minimal development - I’m paraphrasing. However, Buck is the golden retriever, heart so big it gets broken, character who will remain on a hamster wheel and unlucky in love because that’s who he is. If he changes too much it shifts the dynamic, which only happens if the show was ending.

If you thought the writers would do justice to a bisexual story, then you haven’t been watching the show closely. There’s been minimal Buck/Tommy relationship development on screen. Taylor got more. Viewers were lucky to get crumbs in the limited screen time Buck and Tommy got. Then, a breakup out of left field? One minute Buck is saying Tommy is it for him and he wants him to move in, and then it’s over? If he truly felt deeply for Tommy, why not fight to keep him? Why give up so easily and let him walk away? What’s the point? Also, to end it on a terrible stereotype is yet another clue. Horrible writing and another sign that TM and OS had zero investment in the relationship. The whole break up was rushed and made no sense. Essentially, it was just used to draw people in and to get Buck single and sleeping around again because that’s who he is. I for one won’t care for any of Buck’s future relationships. I mean, why would I when they never last.

Also, writers that give you a 66-year-old police sergeant and a 10 y/o boy landing a heavily damaged plane on an active freeway in LA with no prior training, and sorry playing video game flight simulators is not training, is some Sharknado level writing, which is not a compliment. Oh, and that whole story was truly the shows “jumping the shark” moment. If you don’t know what the term “jumping the shark” means, look it up and try to tell me I’m wrong.

Not having Tommy involved in the three part premier episodes, other than a few minutes at a birthday party, was so obvious as to the show’s intent. I mean, the fake captain from Hotshots got more screen time.

They claim they wanted someone for Buck that was connected to him and the 118 and then you don’t use the character at all. You wanted Buck off the hamster wheel? What a crock! Such a wasted opportunity.

Since it’s been confirmed episode 6 was filmed before 5, Tim’s just playing god with peoples’ feelings and crushing their hearts at this point. I mean, how do you have such a great episode (5) and a wonderful speech by Josh (6) just to break them up? Plus, having Tommy break up after six months? That man was all in, which was obvious in episode 5.

Guess it shouldn’t be a surprise that’s how TM would handle things after that horrible Tarlos breakup. At least on Lone Star we knew Rafa (Carlos) was a main cast member so there was hope. Lou was a guest star so it seems kinda final based on his interviews. Again, what was the point? They could have had Buck's bi revelation be with a random character. So, building up the Buck/Tommy relationship just to take it away was to inflict the most pain. Good job.

Do I think the show will make Buddie canon? Who knows…one thing I do know is I wouldn’t trust them if they did. Also, even if Tommy somehow returns, I don’t trust TM with anything related to this story. Sure, hope he’s happy with ruining the show for so many people. Again, like another show runner I mentioned in item 4 above. Honestly, I can’t believe the Buddie fans have stayed for so long. That’s commitment, I guess.

Do I think Lou should go back to 9-1-1? Hell no! He was screwed over by both TM and OS. Prove it to me otherwise. However, it’s up to him and of course, he loves acting so I wouldn’t blame him.

Finally, even though I’ve watched the show since the beginning, it no longer brings me joy. There are too many other TV shows to stick with one I no longer enjoy. So yes, I’m announcing my departure, and I don’t give an F what OS, you, or anyone else thinks about it. Not that any of this matters any way…

#911 discourse #911 show #911 spoilers #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 general audience

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chairofchaos · 10 months ago

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Even In the Dark

Pairing: Cassian x You (Y/N but no Y/N use! Uses she/her pronouns) Summary: Cassian comes home to a mate in pain, and does everything he can to help. Rating: Teen Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, heavy emphasis on the comfort for those of you who have been burned by me one too many times, mild sexual content and discussions (I think that covers it but as usual, if I have forgotten anything please let me know!) A/N: Happy Cassian Appreciation Week! @cassianappreciationweek Shoutout to @tsunami-of-tears for the lovely Illyrian wing dividers. Enjoy!

Something was amiss in his home. Cassian noticed it the second he opened the door, stomping and wiping his boots on the doormat before stepping inside.

Your boots were there, dry and untouched, exactly as they had been this morning. As the day was coming to a close much like its stormy beginning, it surprised him to see the umbrellas showed no sign of use.

There was silence. Cassian’s brows furrowed. You spent rainy days singing. You liked storms, would dance and sing in the rain when it wasn’t too cold (and even, on occasion, when it was).

He bent to untie his boots, nearly ripping at the laces in an increasing worry. If he wouldn’t have been worried about dirtying the floors, he would have forgone the step all together. He worked in the darkness, his last clue that all was not as it should be.

No candlelight flickered against the wall. No scent of vanilla, or cinnamon, or mahogany swirled about him. Mahogany. The scent you had proclaimed was your favorite because it reminded you of him.

You saved it for days like this, days when you would be inside more than you liked. You told him it meant none of its light or scent would be wasted. That you would be able to sit in a reminder of him all day.

“I’ll buy you a hundred. Light them every day,” he had told you earnestly.

You had laughed. “Once I finish all the rest that you’ve bought me, I’ll let you buy me as many as you wish.”

He hadn’t argued. You had a rather impressive collection spread throughout the home you shared. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Boots finally off, he placed them next to yours, the appearance of his large muddy boots striking against the considerably smaller, clean pair beside them.

He walked down the hallway, peering into room after room, but knowing somehow that he would not find you on this level, in the kitchen, or the dining room; the living room or the office, no matter how much he hoped he would. When there was no sign of you, he wound slowly up the stairs at the end of the hall.

There. The bedroom door was shut. It solidified his concern. No light crept from beneath the door; no sound of your movement reached his ears. He ignored the open doorways to other rooms and strode quickly to enter yours.

Darkness met him. The room was as dark as it could be, given that the little light the storm might have allowed to filter through the window was blocked entirely by the heavy outer curtains.

On good days, those stayed open. The typical curtains before the window were a light gauzy material through which sunlight could flow. On the bad days, Cassian knew, the heavy curtains would close with a flick of your hand. They were a wall of thick fabrics to keep light and sound from your presence.

The tonics you took daily helped keep the episodes at bay, but not always. He stepped inside quickly and as quietly as his body would allow.

“My love,” he whispered. You gave no answer. He prayed you were asleep. It was often the only respite you had on days like this.

But that was too much to ask of the Mother, apparently. As he waited, a broken sob wrenched from your body followed by a whimper of pain. Whether it was from the movement the sob required or the sound itself, he didn’t know.

That was enough. He crossed to you slowly, trying to keep his footsteps from making any noise. The faint light of the bioluminescent clock hands reflected in the bottles beside your bed. It was the only light you allowed, its presence necessary to keep track of the hourly doses of pain relief you could take. He counted those bottles quickly, bit back a snarl of anger, then swore at what he found.

Six empty bottles. Six full bottles sat beside them. His anger wasn’t at you. The amount of pain you were in scared him. Twelve doses of tonic were all the healers would allow you to keep on your own. For mild episodes, one to three bottles sufficed. Six was pushing it. If this episode lasted beyond eight doses, Cassian would have no choice but to summon the healers for more help.

Your breath trembled from your lungs, shuddering on the shallow inhale and measured, calculated on the exhale. Nausea. He would bet anything you were trying to temper it with as steady breathing as you could manage. That was one symptom the tonics could never address, as you were allergic to the one herb that wouldn’t interact with the ingredients for pain relief you so desperately needed.

A faint rustle from the bed drew his attention. Your hand, extended to him. A request.

He placed his hand gently over yours, palm down so you could fingerspell your request into his hand. You had learned together, needing a way to communicate when you were in too much agony to speak.

H-E-A-L-E-R, you spelled slowly. He stiffened, his eyebrows raising. You had half the doses left. A quick request, ‘Lie w me’, followed. You never asked for him to send for the healer. Not until you had finished every single tonic.

Cassian waited until you withdrew your hand, tucking it back under your pillow to support your head. Quietly, he stood to fulfill your needs, walking around the bed before disrobing to his underwear. His clothes were cold. It would not help you, and he should let his skin warm a tad before joining you. But first - Cassian reached out in his mind to his brother.

Rhys.

Yes?

She needs help. She asked, this time.

It's that bad?

Yes.

I'll send them. Let me know if there is anything we can do.

I will. Thank you.

Of course. Good luck, Cassian.

No response would come until help arrived, one of three healers he, Nesta, and Feyre had vetted and assigned specifically to help you through these episodes when they had become more frequent a few years ago. The healers kept keys to your home so they could come and go as needed without making any more noise than was required. One of them was always on call.

Climbing into bed was always the hardest part. He had a choice. Do it quickly, and your pain could be sharp but brief. Do it slowly, and he may drag out your agony.

You had told him once after an episode that the shifting of the mattress beneath you caused your head to splinter into pieces. He had said he would sleep on the couch, a chair by your side, even the floor if it would keep you from pain. You had shaken your head.

“What I need most in those moments is you beside me. The warmth of your body in the blankets is soothing. Hearing the steadiness of your breathing gives me something to cling to, a standard I can use to measure my own breathing; to measure the passage of time without having to open my eyes.”

But he would not touch you. Not unless you asked. That was your one request, that he lay there, close enough for you to hear, but never to touch you unless you specifically requested it.

“My body often feels as if it’s on fire,” you responded when he asked about the experience after the first time he witnessed it. “It’s agonizing. My head feels as if it’s being wrenched in two or more pieces, my skin is aflame. My stomach roils, and I cannot seem to breathe without complete concentration.”

“And with me beside you?” He had asked.

You had managed to squeak out the request that first time, though it led to you throwing up beside the bed not two minutes later. He had cleaned it up, and then joined you, lying as far from you as possible as you choked out the need to have him there, but away.

“It centers me. Gives me something to focus on other than the pain.”

“But if you feel like you’re on fire, wouldn’t a cold compress help? Some ice, perhaps?”

You had sighed. “In my experience, it only causes a different sort of pain. I know for some it helps. In my case, I find it forces my body to fight harder against the sensation and drains me more quickly. I wish it did, but it never seems to help as much as it hurts.”

That first episode he had witnessed had terrified him. He had spent the night with you in his room at the townhouse, the both of you tangled in each other for hours before sleep caught up to you both. He was in heaven. But as he woke, he had been thrust into his own personal hell.

He hadn’t realized how much he loved you until he saw you with sweat beading at your forehead as your whimpers woke him. The panic that filled him immediately flowed in perfect synchronicity with the knowledge that he would do anything to help you.

The light flowed freely through his windows. The sounds of the city filtered in freely. He had curtains, but they were not designed for the kind of darkness you needed. They quenched no sound. It was not enough.

And you lay there, crying, as he sat up. He remembered it with horror now. He could recall it all, including all the things he had unknowingly done wrong.

“What’s wrong?” He had asked. You had whimpered, tensing. He sat up entirely, reaching to stroke your arm. You had only cried harder, tears streaming from between your tightly closed eyelids.

He had sat up quickly to analyze you better. He had kept asking you questions at full volume. He remembered how he hadn’t thought to block the light with his wing. How he had tried to reach for you, leading to your agonized words begging him not to, pleading with him to get a healer. He had jumped from the bed to do so, hearing your retching from behind him a minute or so after. He had spun back to you, but you waved him off, tearful eyes pleading him to do as you had asked.

So much had gone wrong that time.

He was fortunate he knew about your allergy, glad you had mentioned it offhand at dinner three weeks previous. It had only been your third date, but it had come up somehow. Had he not known, you could have died from the tonic the healer brought for you. In the end, Rhys was summoned in the early afternoon to push you into unconsciousness and put you out of your misery. Nothing else had helped. You slept for over a full day, not waking for anything.

He had kept vigil over you in his bed, not knowing how to help. Rhys had come and gone, checking in and bringing food and water for both of you, though your tray was exactly the same on the way out the door as it had come in.

You had awoken at dusk the next day. You had stretched with a groan which startled Cassian from his fitful dozing.

“My love,” he had whispered incoherently.

You blinked with a little yawn as you looked over at him. It took you a minute to orient yourself and frown.

“Cassian.”

“Sweetheart,” he said in response, eyes filling with tears at the ease with which you spoke his name. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I am,” your nod turned into a shake of your head. “I am so sorry.” He tracked each movement, but no wince or whimper followed. There was no visible indication of pain.

He was so lost in looking for any sign of your discomfort that it took him a few moments to respond. “Don’t be sorry. Are you certain you’re alright?”

“Yes,” you gave him a shaky smile. He wanted to crush you in his arms but had learned through your words and your pained cries that any contact would hurt, so instead he gripped the arms of his chair.

While you didn’t look as though you were in pain, embarrassment was written all over your face. Still, discussion needed to wait. He got you food and water, and a fresh shirt of his to change into.

Once he had taken your empty tray away, he looked inquisitively at where you sat propped up in his bed. “What happened?” He asked quietly.

You had indulged his question. Some things you knew could trigger the episodes, so you avoided them. Bright lights or loud noises for long periods of time. Sleep deprivation. Cassian had held in a flinch at that, knowing he had kept you up until nearly three in the morning.

Stress, built up over a period of time, was the most common instigator. He recalled your words from dinner the night before, about the hard deadline you were facing for an investigation into a trading company that had seemingly been avoiding tariffs. He had reached for your hand unthinkingly when it had clenched on the bedspread beside you, unable to withhold the only comfort he had to offer.

You had sighed and gripped his hand gratefully. “Can I hold you?” He had asked, stroking his thumb slowly from your wrist to your knuckles. Your nod was the only assent he needed before scooping you gently up from the bed and climbing in, settling you in his lap with your head tucked under his chin.

“I’m sorry for causing you trouble,” you whispered, tracing a hand lightly across his chest.

“It was no trouble.”

“I took away half your weekend. You had plans.”

“They weren’t anywhere near as important as this. I rescheduled.”

“Still -“

“No, my love,” he shook his head, the endearment slipping from his lips without thinking. He hadn’t notice you tense up at the words, and continued, “You needed help. I wasn’t leaving you.”

“Cassian,” his name fell like a breath from your lips.

“Hmm?” Now he noticed. You sat still as possible in his lap. Your hand had stopped its gentle tracing. He dipped his head to look at you, but you didn’t meet his gaze.

“You called me ‘my love’.”

“If it upsets you, I am sorry. But it is the truth.” A flush settled across your cheeks, and he continued, “I love you. Your pain felt like it was a part of me. I began to love you weeks ago, and I knew this morning... I love you.” His words were cut short by the quick raise of your head and the settling of your fingers over his lips. Your cheeks flushed, lower lip rolled between your teeth.

“I love you,” you said quietly. “Very much.”

He laughed softly at that, loosely grabbing your wrist to press kisses against it. “Well. Thank the cauldron for that.”

It was your turn to laugh, and you wiggled to face him. The darkness had truly fallen, stars glimmering through the still uncovered windows.

Cassian lay beside his love, watching the pained breaths, the occasional twitch of spasming muscles causing the quilt to shift.

The door opened slowly, letting the tiniest sliver of light in as a short male stepped into the room. Mirvyn, the head healer on your team. The light glimmered against his glasses before he shut the door again. He moved silently with the practiced footsteps of a cautious male.

Cassian knew the healer recognized his presence. They didn’t acknowledge each other in the darkness. Your hand reached for Cassian’s, gripping it until your nails bit into his skin.

The healer began to work, administering a more potent treatment that could be injected into your arm. You hated it, every second, but it was the only thing that seemed to help you.

You had lay like this for hours. Cassian knew the pain you must be in to have asked for the healer when you had taken only six vials of tonic. When you didn’t respond to the prick of the needle in your shoulder, he knew getting the healer been the right call.

You were asleep within minutes. The healer began to check you, your breathing, your heart, anything he could learn from your pain signatures. He sighed.

Just like every other time, Cassian knew. Nothing to be done. That was the most frustrating piece. Aside from avoiding the things which could trigger the episodes and taking your daily tonics, there was nothing you could do. None of the healers could find a single thing wrong with your body, even as you fell to pieces from the pain.

The healer walked around to Cassian’s side of the bed and bent to whisper, “I'll return in an hour to check on her, then stay in the guest room if you need me for anything else."

Cassian whispered his thanks in return. All they could do was wait. A silent vigil for the love of his life to return to comfort in her own body. A silent sorrow for the pain she must feel.

It was his greatest sorrow, that he couldn't share the pain. He didn't even know its extent. You were not his mate. You were beloved, but he could not understand or protect you. Hours, you would lay, knowing you could call for help. Struggling to decide whether it was bad enough.

A little over six hours, and a healer. Today was bad. He would wait.

Cassian quietly asked the healer to sit with you for a little bit when he returned. He went downstairs, made two sandwiches, and ate one as quickly as possible. You had told him once that him not taking care of himself did you no favors. He had promised he would not neglect himself, so he ate. He did it quickly, because he would not leave you longer than he had to.

The other sandwich he left on the counter with an empty glass. This healer liked the sandwiches, and he knew where you stored all your drinks. He could help himself.

He filled a large pitcher of water and walked up the stairs once more with the pitcher and two glasses. If you got thirsty, there would be water for you. It was the one thing he could do that he felt in control of. He didn't like how insignificant it felt. Still, you told him waking up and seeing a pitcher of water there, the one thing you usually forgot, always made you feel cared for.

Mirvyn had heard Cassian coming, and met him right outside the bedroom door.

"She's still asleep. Her vitals are steady, but for her to have called, I am concerned. Be careful. Sleep. The spell will let you know if anything is truly amiss, but if you sense anything out of the ordinary, come get me," the healer cautioned. "Often your senses will kick in before the spell will recognize it as an issue."

Cassian nodded. "I know. Can you tell how this compares to her last bad episode?"

The healer sighed, pulling his glasses off to clean them before replacing them on the bridge of his nose. "Cassian, it's about the same this time. I'm still surprised she hadn't passed out already, but by my measurements it's about the same."

"She seemed..." Cassian shook his head with a grimace. "It seemed even worse. She's everything to me, Mirvyn. If anything happens to her..."

"I know. We all know. Take care of yourself, Cassian. If either of you need anything, I'll be down the hall."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Sleep. He would sleep, and more importantly, you would sleep. In the morning, you would be alright. He had to believe it.

Cassian woke first, approximately twelve hours later. It was unsurprising. He woke before you on the good days, too. So he waited, his hand in the space between you in case you decided in your sleep that you wished to hold it. You would wake soon enough, if you felt better. Cassian wouldn't let himself think of the alternative.

"Cassian," you whispered.

"My love," he greeted you quietly.

"May I have some water?"

He smiled. "Of course."

You sat up while he retrieved your glass, filling it with careful precision in the darkness.

"Here."

You gulped it down before handing your glass back to him. "Thank you."

He nodded, replacing the glass and the pitcher. "How do you feel?"

"Well enough," you sighed. "A bit of a residual headache."

"That's good," he smiled.

"Yeah. Hold me?" You asked. After the first time, you always asked.

"Of course. Always." He climbed into bed beside you, scooping you into his arms as he sat against the headboard. Once you had sat up, you often didn't want to lay down again. Changing from laying to sitting to laying again so quickly had seemed to do odd things, and now you avoided it at all costs.

"Thank you," you whispered, settling your head against his chest.

"You're welcome."

"I love you, Cassian."

"I love you, too," he hummed. "Mirvyn is here."

"I know. I remember him coming in last night."

"Remember anything else?"

"Other than you coming home, not really. Everything else is blurry."

"That's alright," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "That's everything important."

You laughed. "Oh? the important things, you coming home, and Mirvyn showing up?"

"Yeah," Cassian couldn't help but laugh.

"I heard that swear, you know. When you saw the tonic bottles."

"I was worried," he protested. "I'm always worried when you're sick."

"And? Foul language," you teased in return. "Ghastly, nasty language. You kiss me with that mouth, you know."

"And you love the things this mouth does," he teased in return. You were happy. You were fine.

You hummed your acknowledgement, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I do. I love the male its attached to more, though."

Soon, you were both quietly laughing, intermittently interrupting each other for gentle kisses. It was the best ending for what had been unbearable just hours before. This was Cassian's favorite. The calm between the storms, when you were yourself, in his arms.

You deserved this every morning, every day. This peace. This lightness of heart. In the meantime, he would love you, even in the dark.

A/N: I am by no means a definitive authority on migraines or chronic illness. I do, however, suffer from migraines. This is based largely on my own experience, though I've never had the benefit of a Cassian in my life and frankly, even if I did, the last thing I might want is someone anywhere near me.

All that aside, I wanted to explore what Cassian the Lover might feel when his beloved was in pain. And what better way to do that than with an indulgent fic?

Additionally, I felt it was important to acknowledge that it takes a village. Sometimes, the best thing your person can do for you is to be there and help you ask for help. I may not have a Cassian in my life, but I have many a Mirvyn, and many incredibly supportive people. I am very, very grateful for every single one of them.

I hope you enjoyed the fic, and that you enjoy the rest of your lovely Cassian week! Don't forget to give cassianappreciationweek and maased-out a follow so you can stay up to date with future fandom events for your writing and reading pleasure!

All my love,

Chaos

P.S. I reblog a lot. Want to see the fics without any chaos? Totally cool! @fictionalchaos is the place to be!

Permanent Taglist: @ninthcircleofprythian @c-starstuff-man0 @dusk-muse @lilah-asteria As always: If you want on or off of the taglist, let me know!

#cassian fanfiction #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian the lover #cassian appreciation week #cassian appreciation week 2024 #cassian week 2024 #fictionalchaos #my work

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theworldremixed · 2 months ago

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Ossan’s Love Thailand is a series for the tired millennial (part 1)

I often go on Reddit to view what people think about OLTH and, while there are the accolades to Earth’s acting (deserved, imo) and the cries of “this series is so underrated” (an opinion I also share), there’s a subset of people who find it… boring and filler-y.

So I’m trying to think about why that could be, because I don’t necessarily think those opinions come from a place of hate and could be valid criticism. And yet I don’t share that opinion and I’ve wondered why I’ve been loving this show so much. I’m tuned in like a hawk every week.

That’s when it dawned on me: OLTH is a slice of life sitcom.

So I was blabbing my incoherent thoughts on Twitter (it’s only a plus that blabbing helps the hashtag) here: https://x.com/expensivegherl/status/1896777150222725411?s=46

…and now that my thoughts are more cohesive, here’s why I find the series so relatable.

Heng is a representation of the burned-out optimist.

I think most fans/watchers got MAJOR WHIPLASH when comparing probie!Heng to present Heng. Lots of tweets were saying, “what happened to him?”

Sure, this Heng could be just the idealized version in Mo’s flashback, but he certainly looked more polished than he does now, which is this:

Eight years have lapsed in between his probation period and his current job as property consultant at Okaeri Real Estate. Heck, he isn’t even mid-management like Ten is. And yet, because he’s comfortable enough funding his hobbies, his VR, and his Mr. Saturnworld collection, he doesn’t think it worth it to move up (even if in his head, he DOES want to, as seen in his dream sequence in Episode 1).

The thing is… this is all so familiar, because heck, I’m facing this right now. Mom’s asking me why I can’t buy a house yet, or get married or have kids.

We’re just raised in different times.

How many times have Millennials been chastised by the boomers and Gen X for not attaining society’s standard of success? Remember how news sites would critique spending our money on avocado toasts and expensive coffee, instead of buying a home and raising a family?

I’m not making this up! Remember these articles?

Which brings me to…

Mr. Saturnworld is every Millennial’s hobby, ever.

Millennials love their hobbies. Heck, this abandoned site is proof eternal of how we are when we get our hands on hobbies. Coffee brewing (and the gear that comes with it). Pokémon card collecting. BL merch collections.

The New York Times call it “life-improvement splurges” for personal growth:

…I call it escapism.

We were thrown into college/the workforce post- ‘08 recession. Thrown into a reality where home ownership is becoming increasingly unattainable. Where salary increases don’t match inflation. Where company loyalty isn’t rewarded with set-for-life benefits. Climate change. We’re replaceable.

And so when Heng spends his money on Mr. Saturnworld, it’s because Mr. Saturnworld is attainable when a house isn’t. And it’s enough of a comfort to confront the next day, and the next (else we all go crazy).

Anyway, I want more Saturnworld merch.

With our mundane 9-to-5, we only ever remember the shenanigans of the week.

I think the difference between filler episodes and “shenanigans of the week” is that the latter serves the sitcom/slice of life format, while filler episodes help “fill” downtime outside of the main plot.

The thing is, filler episodes serve characterization in a plot-driven story/series/format, but sitcoms and slice of life series are NOT plot driven. They’re character driven.

We shouldn’t expect an overarching plot of how Heng gets his man in OLTH, because Heng getting his man is only secondary to Heng (and all the other characters) navigating their messy-ass lives.

And so, because OLTH is character-driven story, the “shenanigans of the week” allows us to see how Heng, Mo, and Kongdech (principally) navigate the curveballs.

Who remembers what they’re doing in their 9-5? I don’t. I only ever remember my weird clients, my using sick leaves for vacation getaways, and who got drunk in an office outing.

And office gossip, of course.

So yes, “haunted house” and “outing episode” might seem filler-y, but that’s only if you expect the series to be principally a BL romance with comedic elements.

OLTH isn’t that, though. It’s straight up a slice of life comedy with romantic elements… and some people might not like that. That’s okay.

But there are those of us really tired millennials who want to tune out and laugh along with people we could relate to.

There’s more I have to say about this, but my lunch break is over, and I have work to do. If I’m minded, I might just do a Part 2.

But in conclusion: OLTH is made for me! And I’m so happy I get to tune in and watch this show every week. The only shame is we’ve only got 3 episodes left sigh.

#ossans love thailand #olth #earthmix #hengmo #in which I ramble about my undying love for OLTH

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