#pals breakfast hours

[giuliettagaltieri]

A Very Bad Day

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Everything burns right before the eyes of Charles Leclerc.

Warning: Swearing and intoxication

Word Count: 2996

Chapter: 1

Charles Leclerc couldn’t quite grasp how his life could turn a total 180 in the last 24 hours.  Over the phone, his girlfriend broke up with him.  Ferrari decided to void the contract after he got drunk at some bar.  And now, he has no idea where he is as he hops on one leg, trying to get the other foot inside his pants as he runs away from a hysterical woman he didn’t know.

And to put the cherry on top, his foot got caught on a table and he came plummeting down on the hardwood.

“Ah fuck.”

Yesterday started like any other day.  Nothing conspicuous about it.  Charles woke up in his apartment in Monaco.  His still droopy eyes stare out at the busy streets and tall buildings of Monte Carlo.  Charles scratches his hip, yawning.

Excited barks soon echoed around the room and he didn’t even need to look to know who it was.  His lips quirk to a smile.  “Morning to you too, pal.”  The goofy dog kept his owner’s attention for the next five minutes before Charles had to have his breakfast.

The man was simply trying not to burn his sunny side up eggs when he got a call from Alexandra.  Charles smiles, which quickly disappears as he tries to avoid a splatter of oil.  

“Charles?”

He inhales deeply.  “Since when was I Charles to you? I’m caro-”

“I’m so sorry, I can’t just do this anymore.”  Alexandra sobs from the other line.

Charles scratches his head.  “What, you want to find another petname?”  He chuckles awkwardly.

“I just…I want you to understand that it’s not you, okay?”

Damn.

Well, this is it.  He thought.

“You breaking up with me or something?”  Charles mumbles as he switches off the stove when the bottom of the egg starts burning.  Alexandra sobs again from the other line.  “You could’ve done it in person, you know.  Like how a decent person should.”

Alexandra was silent and Charles used the spatula to try and salvage the egg which stuck to the pan, its burnt stench made Charles step back and sit on the chair.  He runs a hand over his face.

“Hello.”

“Listen.”  Her voice is much stable this time, making Charles think if she really had been crying thirty seconds ago.  “I really can’t see any future in this relationship.  We should start seeing other people.”

Charles starts swinging the spatula lazily, his eyes now drained.  “Well, I can’t exactly stop you if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you, Charles.”  Alexandra responds a little softly this time, fooling him for a second that this was just another phonecall they have everyday.  Or was it every week?  Charles can’t remember as their relationship has been getting more dull and dull.  “I’m really sorry.  I tried to resist him for months but you just can’t…give me the love that I want and I want to end it between us before I start another relationship.”

So there is another man.  Charles nods somberly, forgetting that Alexandra can’t see him.  “Yes.  Thank you for being honest…you sure he’s a good man?”  Despite his relationship with Alexandra losing its flame, she was still his girlfriend once.

He hears the smile in Alexandra’s voice.  “He is really kind.  He has a daughter whom I love very much.”

“Yeah?”  Charles tries to sound cheerful for her sake, his eyes following the slow drip of the oil from the head of the spatula.

“Yeah!  He can be really busy with his mining company so I get to spend time with her a lot.”

“Good for you.”  His jaw ticks.  “I don’t appreciate you spending time with him while we were still together but I’m glad you broke up with me before you started dating the man.”

Alexandra sighs gratefully from the other line.  “Thanks, Charles.  I knew you’d understand.  What we had, it was good…but it was not going anywhere.  I’ll still come to watch you race though, see you around.”

Charles thinks it is better if she didn’t.  Leo paws at his leg but Charles can’t bother to do anything but scratch behind his ears sluggishly.  

What kind of person breaks up over the phone?  He was so good to her too, getting her anything a girlfriend could want.  Charles was a busy guy but he tried to make it work with her, spending time with her anytime he could.

This wasn’t how he planned his Saturday to start at all.  Charles can already think of the headlines surfacing in the internet soon.

His PR team would kill him.

Well, it’s not entirely his fault.  They can’t pin this on him.

Although the next thing that would happen that day would totally be his fault.

Charles really tried to keep the whole drinking and getting wasted part in his own apartment but the half empty bottles he kept stocked on his mini bar weren’t doing their job.  So he went with the next best thing.  Go get hammered in a bar.

He could have sworn he only had a few glasses.  How was he supposed to know the alcohol content in those drinks were beyond the roof?  That’s what he gets for ordering drinks he has never heard before in his entire life.

It couldn’t have been Alexandra that caused this much of an impact on Charles that he’d go out his way and get shitfaced in some bar where anybody with a phone could post him on social media.  He gulps down his drink, giving up on the puzzle he had no intentions in solving in the first place.

The bar was getting too cramped and Charles felt like he was fighting for every gulp of air.  He had to get out.  Which was a bad idea.  He could barely hold up his own weight, let alone walk.  Charles was stumbling to every person that passed by him in the busy streets of Monaco, he’s yet to be recognized thanks to his cap but he knows this won’t end well.

Next thing he knows, he is being thrown inside a car, the absence of street lights blinding him, the sudden change in colors disorienting him.  Loud voices of people he should know echo around the cramped car.  Someone he recognizes from his PR team is beside him, there’s another one in the passenger seat, trying to talk to him, trying to get his attention but Charles can’t peel his eyes off the floor.  He’s sobering up bit by bit now.  He hears his name being called over and over but he doesn’t respond, not even when somebody holds him by his collar.  

Questions are thrown his way and he can’t even process a single one before another is being thrown at him again.  They keep asking what has gotten into him.  What happened between him and Alexandra that she had to reveal publicly that their relationship was over.  They have no business in prying in that matter.  They repeatedly fume that he could have been arrested for public intoxication had they not gotten there on time.

The car comes to an abrupt halt, sending him forward.  Hands grip him under his armpits and he’s being forced out of the car and on his feet.  Charles doesn’t even know if it’s him making the steps or he’s simply being dragged.  He’s made to sit on the couch and he recognizes his own apartment.  He sees Leo growling at the people who invaded his home.  Charles hunches on the couch, his hands raking on his hair.

Was he stupid?

He is a Formula 1 driver for goodness sake!

It wasn’t easy to deduce that this would harm his career.  A blotch on his record.  Forever known as the Formula 1 driver who was intoxicated in the streets of Monaco, and it was barely even evening!  A fucking embarrassment is what he is.

A loud ringtone echoes and he hears the brief exchange of words.  A phone was then shoved in his hands and he brought it up to his ears.

Charles was used to hearing the calm and humorous voice of Frédéric Vasseur, never like this.

He knew he fucked up.

And like how Alexandra snipped whatever they had, Vasseur did the same to his contract with Ferrari.

“I am very disappointed in you, boy.  I’m afraid Ferrari will have to let you go.”

This is rockbottom.

Charles wordlessly hands the phone back and it’s replaced with his car keys.  For a moment he just stares at the dark stallion.  He hears them saying that someone picked it up from the bar for him.  

I’m fucking stupid.

Charles grips the key so hard it threatens to dig through his palms.  He gets up and heads to the direction of the door.  They call his name over and over but he just cannot deal with them at the moment.

“Get Leo to my mom.  I’m stepping out for a bit.”

He finds his car in the parking space and immediately gets in it.  Just like that, he threw his career under the bus.  What other team would want him to race for them, after this incident, he’d be lucky if some team with shit cars even looks at him.

For years, he built his name, trying to make those he loved proud, only for it all to unravel before his eyes in a single day. 

He needs to get out of here.

The engine roars as he speeds away from his place, going somewhere and nowhere in particular.

The city lights of Monte Carlo were a blur as he sped through.

Charles is never really one to run away from his problems, but there’s nothing here for him, is there?

The girl he trusted to be by his side went and broke up with him.  Their relationship lost its spark long before this day but Charles thought they were stable.  He was blinded with the comfort brought on by the convenience.  He drank not for losing her but for self-pity, which made him two times more horrible.  Charles would just love to blame anybody but himself right about now.  One stupid decision cost him his deal with Ferrari.

They had a fucking contract.  He was going to race for them for the next season, goddammit.

Charles pulls at his glovebox and sees his passport.

He drove to the airport of Monaco and hastily parked his car and gathered his stuff from the glove compartment.  For a moment his hands hovered over his phone yet he hesitates before deliberately leaving it.

He will deal with this later.  He just needs to get out.  Cold sweat was breaking out in his temple when he entered the air conditioned airport.  Charles pulls his hat down after security, feeling like everybody is looking at him.  His heartbeat accelerates and his breathing visibly picks up.  He’s going to be sick if he stays here a moment longer.

“Ticket to LA, please.”  Charles breathlessly said.

The ticket agent glances at him worriedly, familiarity clearly crossing her eyes.  “Sir, are you okay?  Do you need to sit down?”

Charles quickly shakes his head, giving her a forced grin.  “I’m fine.  I just need the ticket to LA.”

The woman types in her computer and her face becomes apologetic, making Charles grit his teeth.  “The plane just left.  The next flight is in six hours.”

“Shit.”  Charles runs a hand through his face.  “Uh…what about Las Vegas?”

“Next flight’s in eight hours-”

“JUST-…”  He inhales sharply.  “Just tell me which flight leaves now.”

The woman’s lips turned thin at his outburst but she chooses not to comment.

“Well, a flight to New York leaves in an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll need a ticket.”

New York was probably not the best choice but he was in a rush to just get out as soon as he can.  LA and Vegas would have been preferable.  He had friends there, somewhere he can crash for a while as he waits for everything to blow over.

But as he stands there in New York, he looks at the bustle of people.  Nobody looked at him yet and for some reason it felt good to be ignored.  To not be a spectacle for once.  But he doubts it will last.  Charles adjusts his watch to the time and has his money changed to dollars so he can use it and he exits the airport.  

The warm, polluted air of New York slaps him in the face.  He got on a taxi and it drives him out of New York.  He was dropped off at a bar in some town where he got a few drinks.  He remembers glancing at his watch, a little past midnight.  Considering he crossed continents, he thought it would be much later than that. 

He repeated the process of riding a cab and stopping by a few places to eat and drink until he lost himself.  He was black out drunk.  Playing Dora the explorer was not on his bucket list for this year but he was stumbling on a sidewalk of some town he doesn’t recognize.  No landmarks or anything to help him.

He’d probably die from alcohol intoxication if he didn't stop drinking.  But the flashing neon light of the word ‘PUB’ in the corner just invites him over.  He opens the door and sees nobody inside but the old bartender, wiping glasses.  How fucking cliché, it made him chuckle.  He trudges to the counter and he frowns at the empty glasses, some still decorated with different colored liquid on the bottom.  Charles awkwardly pushes them to the side and sits on the bar stool as his eyes squint on the menu.  Aside from the typical hard drinks, he sees a variety of unfamiliar ones and decides to order a spiced apple cider from the hot section of the menu.

Alcohol was still running through his system like crazy, making the rush of his blood thrum.  He needed a warm drink to wake him up.

“Hey!”

Charles whips behind him.  A bad idea.  He grimaces and he clutches his head as the sudden movement makes the room spin.

“That’s my seat.”

He blinks hard and looks up to see a woman with red bold lips.  She was pissed by the looks of it.  But Charles knew that the flush on her cheeks was not because of her anger.  She hiccups and Charles grins.

“Yeah?  Sorry about that.”  He moves to the other stool, still watching.

“What are you smiling at?”  The woman glares at him before looking at the bartender who brings over his drink.  “Tom, I’ll have sour cherry vodka.”

“Young lady, you had eight drinks already, I think that might be enough for you.”  The old man chastises gently, an accent thick on his voice.   “It’s wee hours of the morning already.”

Charles grins behind his glass when she visibly deflates, lips pouting as she rests her flushed cheeks on her hand, hiccupping once more. 

“I’ll just have a hot buttered rum then.”

“It still has alcohol in it.”  Tom replies but starts preparing it for her anyway.  He brings over two glasses of water for them in the meantime.

Charles quietly sips on his drink, ignoring the glass of water.  The woman beside him sighs loudly, her finger tracing something on the fogged glass.

“You know.”  She starts as she straightens up in her seat before turning to him with bedroom eyes, making Charles gulp thickly.  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“It’s my first time here.”  He says before sipping his drink again.

She smiles at him this time.  “You’re a tourist?”

He shrugs.  “Uhm, I guess you can say that.”

Tom places her drink on the counter and she thanks him without taking her eyes off of Charles.

“You a local here?”  Charles asks as his eyes follow how the glass presses on the plumpness of her lips.

She hiccups before giggling, as if he said something really funny to her.  “I think so but I just moved here three years ago for work.”

Just watching her giggle makes Charles chuckles too, he doesn’t know why but he just does.  He clears his throat to sip his drink once more.  Cheeks flushing slightly at the effect she has on him.

She gulps down her drink without pause and Charles follows how her throat moves.  When she places the glass down, she has a goofy grin on and Charles groans out a chuckle upon seeing her whipped cream moustache.

“You have something on your…here, let me get that for you.”  Charles leans closer and he cups her cheek and glides his thumb over her upper lip.  He stared into her wide glassy eyes the entire time.

He feels his skin buzzing, heating up under her gaze.

And he gives in to the pull.  Charles leans closer to plant his lips on hers.  She hiccups once more, making them both laugh but he deepens the kiss, enjoying the flavor of her on his tongue.

A sharp cough makes them part.

Charles glances at Tom the bartender and he sheepishly scratches his neck but she grabs his hand. 

“Uhm…you wanna…”

“Yes.”  Charles answers for her, pressing his lips on hers briefly before he clumsily pulls out his wallet to pay for their drink.  He turns to Tom.  “Is this enough?”

Tom sighs and shoos them away with his hand.  “Just get outta here you two.”

The woman laughs and thanks Tom before she pulls Charles out of the pub and as soon as they’re outside, he pulls her close to him, just needing to kiss her again.  She was like a breath of fresh air from all the craziness that took place today.

“Fuck.”  His hands roamed on her body, making her laugh.  “I need you, baby.”

At this point Charles is just willing to throw everything out the window if it meant having her.

Overdrive

[maybemaleksentmeasakindness]

Whittling

Summary - You and Liam have an arrangement of sorts. You patch him up and he makes sure you sleep. It's fine, right? Just two pals, helping each out.

A/N - There is cursing (this is your warning). As always, these characters and places don't belong to me. This is me making up for the lack of Liam Mairi fics in the world. 2k words.

Your POV

A soft light filtered through the curtains of your room. You had watched it since the moment you’d woken up, moving across the shelf where Liam’s carving sat and toward where your toes were tucked away at the edge of the bed. You had been up for a few hours and might’ve gotten out of bed if there wasn’t a beautiful blonde man lying in your bed beside you. Instead, you settled with sitting up against the headboard.

When you’d woken up Liam was dead asleep, one arm slung half-heartedly over your middle with not much space between your bodies, considering the bed was technically only made for one person. You pondered if whoever designed the rooms considered how much time some people spent in their peer’s bed, and if they perhaps did this to try and curb that habit. You chuckled quietly, considering how Liam might simply take it upon himself to take his skills with wood and a few tools to the next level and make a larger bed frame so you both could be comfortable. But that would mean admitting that you aren’t just extra good at healing his wounds, and he wasn’t extra good at noticing your exhaustion. That he just showed up at your room at night to clean him up. That he knew you weren’t getting sleep and insisted on staying the night. Just two peers, two friends, caring for each other because a larger bed frame made feelings real. Too real. 

A soft snore pulled you from your thoughts as you tugged Liam’s still sleeping form against your body, letting your fingers trace the rebellion relic around his wrist. A low groan left Liam, barely aware of the touch. Your finger traced up the mark, over his arm. It didn’t feel fair to make children suffer for their parents' choices. Liam shifted slightly, but you didn’t stop, fingers tracing higher. Liam tucked himself closer to you with another groan. Your body shook slightly with laughter. 

“Good morning, Mr. Mairi,” you teased.

“You should be sleeping right now,” Liam mumbled back, eyes still closed. “And don’t call me that.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Not that you could sleep much these days. Just because you had a decent chance with a dragon and blade didn’t mean you were free of the terrors that came with it. 

Liam responded by tugging you down beside him, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 

A tension you didn’t know you were holding in your body seemed to ease up slightly in response before you tucked yourself closer to him, tangling your legs under the sheets. The skin of your face tingled as you felt Liam’s breath fan over it. It was warm and inviting, while giving an odd sensation. A pause, Liam’s eyes still hadn’t opened. “We could get an early breakfast,” you suggested, cutting through the silence.

“I told you I was going to help you get more sleep, and that’s what I’m doing.” Liam responded. He opened his eyes for a moment, examining you carefully. 

You smiled before placing yourself closer to Liam. You wanted to say something, to fill the pause. It’s not that you completely disliked the silence but it was more time to run around in circles and for you to do something stupid like kiss him. Ask him what exactly all of this was. “Liam?” 

“Mmm?” Liam hummed out in response, eyes still closed, both arms around your middle. 

You chuckled slightly realizing you had nothing more to say. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to say your name.”

“Sleep,” was Liam’s only response.

It wasn’t that easy, but you would try. If not for yourself, for him. Liam was aware of the whittling he was doing with his carvings, just not the whittling he was doing to your heart. Carving out a Liam-spaced home. 

Liam’s POV

Liam often wondered if there was ever a day he didn’t need something patched up if he would still show up at your door, if you would even let him in. But they were Riders in training, there would always be something to patch up. That always seemed to occupy Liam’s mind. Walking to your room at night. Sitting as you patched him up. Falling asleep next to you. Waking up next to you. 

It was nearly his first thought when he woke up as you pulled him tighter against you. He groaned slightly, not feeling ready to be up, and wanting you to be asleep. Liam, too tired to actually say anything, decided just to let out a low groan. A graon meant to represent the earliness and his displeasure with you being awake. Liam felt your fingers glide up from his wrist, up his arm in intricate patterns. For just a moment he thought you were drawing a picture when he realized it wasn’t any sort of free form. You were tracing his rebellion relic again. He wondered for a few moments what it would be like to wake up in his own bed, no fingers tracing up the marking on his skin. Liam had grown so accustomed to waking up beside you. He just needed an excuse to come call on your meticulous healing skills every night. What would happen if one day he made it out without some injury to be taken care of? What then? Would he still be invited into your room, your bed? The first night you’d ever spent sharing a bed was the best night of sleep in Liam’s life. 

Liam groaned at the thought of losing this opportunity to share a bed with you, preferring your warmth. He curled his body against your’s slightly, as if doing that wouldn’t let you escape, or perhaps his warmth would convince you back to sleep—–which would let him fall back asleep. 

“Good morning, Mr. Mairi,” you said, a clear teasing in your voice. He hated when you called him that, like he was your superior. “And don’t call me that.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he heard you respond. 

Liam let out a faint grunt before selecting that asking you nicely was going to get you to try and sleep. He pulled you down so you weren’t sitting up anymore, his body pressed to yours. Liam gently pressed his lips just under your hairline, half expecting you to complain that you didn’t need sleep and you weren’t a baby, but it didn’t come. Instead a soft silence. Liam could feel you curl up against him, tangling your legs underneath the sheets. And for a split second Liam wondered what it might be like to fall asleep, legs tangled every night with you, no need for your healing skills beforehand. Just two people needing each other to sleep. Some part of that was scary, that he had to admit that he needed you as much as you needed him. That he needed you more than just for the night, he needed you all the time––alive and kicking ass. 

Your voice came echoing through Liam’s thoughts. “We could get an early breakfast.”

Liam would’ve shaken his head if you both weren’t tucked together perfectly like two puzzle pieces that would fall apart if one of them moved. “I told you I was going to help you get more sleep, and that’s what I’m doing,” he said with a huff. From a sliver of vision he could see you looking wide awake, but it was clear you needed to rest longer. He felt some relief as you smiled and managed to wiggle ever closer against him. 

If there was even an ounce of alcohol in his system Liam might’ve just kissed you right then and there, but something was stopping him. What if one day you didn’t need this? What if one day Liam would be turned away after you’d patched him up? What then? What if these feelings he felt for you weren’t mutual? 

“Liam?” There was your stupid, beautiful voice again, pulling him from his thoughts. 

He screwed his eyes shut, knowing if he opened them he’d just stare straight at those gorgeous lips of yours. Liam needed you to both shut up and get out of his sight and to always be talking, always be in his line of sight. You were maddening.  Stupidly so. Liam restrained a groan before letting out a soft, hum. He was convinced if he tried to do anything more a long trail of words would escape his mouth before it was too late. 

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to say your name.”

LIam chose to quickly mumble out, “sleep.” He paused a moment before cracking one eye open to see you had closed yours. His gaze fell to a few of the carvings he had mde for you a while ago. All of them scattered around your room. Your dragon, a small bunny placed beside each other. Liam felt you shift slightly, face tucking into his neck. His fingers tensed against your back for a split second before relaxing. He could do this. He just needed to clear his head. 

“Liam?”

He looked at you before he realized he was gripping your back tighter than he meant. His eyes followed your face as you lifted your head slightly. “Oh, sorry.”

You only shook your head slightly. 

Liam scanned your eyes then your lips. Your stupid, perfect, gorgeous lips. Liam swore your face got a few inches closer to his. Shit.

Suddenly a knock came at the door and Liam sat up quickly.

“I know you’d never forget about me,” Ridoc calls from the other side of the door.

Liam tenses, eyes scanning to you as you mutter a litany of curses, jumping out of your bed. Liam’s very aware of his hand resting on your lower back as long as it physically could before you were running around your room. 

“Sorry! Give me a minute!” You shouted from the door before glancing at Liam. “Told Ridoc I’d study with him.”

Liam nodded before realizing he ought to get out of your bed and leave, though he knew exactly what that would look like. He watched and waited as you dressed as quickly as you could before swinging the door open.

Ridoc stood there with a shit-eating grin before trying to stop it. “Good morning, Liam. Didn’t expect to see you,” an unnecessary pause as he scanned the both of you, “here.”

You stepped out of your room, smacking Ridoc’s arm in response. He winced, acting like a wounded puppy as you pulled at his arm giving Liam the space to leave. He quickly made his way to the door, unsure how to say goodbye to you. Normally he’d happily walk out into the hallway with his arm around someone’s shoulder. But not today, not this time. You were different. He had too much emotional attachment here. Before Liam could make any more decisions you pulled him into a hug. As you both pulled away from each other he felt that tension from earlier, the moment just before Ridoc was knocking on your door. Before he could think or act on it, Ridoc was half pulling you down the hallway towards someone else’s room. Liam didn’t stand around waiting to find out who, he just briskly walked towards his own room, hearing your laughter just as the door was shut behind him. 

He could still feel your warmth, see your proximity to him, feel how close he was to getting a taste of those lips. Liam shook his head. He needed to clear it. 

Liam spent an hour doing that, trying to do anything and everything to get you out of his head; push-ups, bathing, studying. Nothing worked. He finally gave up, sitting down with a small piece of wood and a tool, and began to whittle away. Whittling your face from memory.

[chaoticevolution]

mornings with mike

pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

warnings: smut !! DNI if you're under 18 !! ageless/blank blogs will be blocked !! includes daddy kink, pervy!dom mike, watersports (spit/piss kink), heavy emphasis on the piss kink bc it's not for everybody, light impact play (just some light slapping), throat fucking, breeding kink

authors note: this is the first smut i've written in MONTHS and it's messy and nasty so i hope yall like it. also i couldn't think of a good title

word count: 2123

You could sense his exhausted presence entering the house before you heard a long heavy sigh and the slamming of the front door.

"Rough night?" you look up from the laundry you were folding and give him a sympathetic look. He tosses his jacket on the nearby chair and looks at you through lidded eyes. The dark circles under his eyes are getting worse, you notice.

“Did Abby eat?”

“What do you think?”

He rolls his eyes before heading down the hallway to check on Abby. You watch as he opens her door slowly, entering as he uses his soft gentle voice to wake her up for school.

You continue folding the laundry as you hear Abby start to wake up and immediately start to fight with Mike about going to school.

“I said I'm not going today,” Abby whines.

“Abs, we’re not doing this today. you’ve missed too many days, come on, get up.” You could tell in Mike's voice that he was trying desperately to keep his composure.

“No, I'm staying here with you and y/n today.” Abby digs her heels in and stands her ground.

“Abby, get up. Now." Mike's composure doesn't last long as he pulls out his stern voice.

You notice your stomach flutter, but attempt to ignore it as Abby reluctantly gets up and starts getting ready for school.

“And you-,” you were too lost in thought to notice Mike exiting Abby's bedroom until he was right in front of you.

“Me? What did I do?” you ask.

“I know you’ve been up all night waiting for me.” His voice remains stern.

“How can you tell?” Damn, you think to yourself, didn't even try to deny it. Mike's face softens as he places his hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your own dark circles.

“I just- well I can see how tired you are in your eyes, sweetheart. I know what tired looks like, trust me.” he smiles softly at you. “Now go get some rest,” his stern voice returns.

“Yes sir,” you say playfully as you roll your eyes at him, heading for yours and Mike's bedroom. As you drift to sleep, you faintly hear Mike attempting to get Abby to eat breakfast.

***

You’re woken up a few hours later by Mike sweetly kissing the top of your head.

“Did you get any sleep?” you ask him as you take a sip from the water glass he just handed you.

He sits on the edge of the bed next to you and puts a strong hand on your hip. “Uhm, yeah,” he sighs. “I napped a little after I put Abby on the bus.”

“Mike, I'm worried about you, you look like shit.”

“Yeah, well, so do you. I'm tired of you waiting up all night for me and not taking care of yourself.” There goes the stern dad voice again.

Yeah well, the call is coming from inside the house pal, you think as you roll your eyes.

Without warning, Mike's hand shoots up and places an iron grip on your jaw, forcing you to make direct eye contact with him.

“You really think I'm gonna put up with that kinda crap right now?”

You feel that familiar flutter in your stomach again. You love when he gets so pent up to the point where he can't help but get demanding with you. He's always so tired of Abby not listening to him and he refuses to have you not listen as well.

“I- I’m sorry,” you muttered.

His grip tightens. “I'm sorry, what?”

You hesitate, feeling butterflies in places other than your stomach. “I'm sorry, Daddy,” you whimper meekly.

“Atta girl.” He smiles sweetly, moving his hand to place it back on your hip. “Shirt off, now.”

You're quick to sit up from your spot in bed and lift your shirt above your head, revealing the absence of a bra. You hear Mike groan slightly as you toss your shirt to the side.

“Good. Stick your tongue out for me, baby. The way I like it, you know,” he commands, a devilish smirk wiped across his face.

You do as he asks with no hesitation, sticking your tongue out and pairing it with your puppy dog eyes. Within a few seconds, a string of saliva is dripping from your tongue and onto your bare chest.

“Fuck- good girl,” he growls before swiftly grabbing your jaw again as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, encapturing you in a sloppy kiss. He loves how messy you're willing to be for him at the drop of a hat.

Your hand reaches over to feel his hard cock under his pants and you hear him whimper into your mouth slightly before pulling away and returning to his demanding demeanor.

“Shit- baby, you know how much I love when you touch my dick, but I'm here to tire you out, okay?”

You smile and nod as he goes to slide your pants, along with your underwear, ever so slowly down your legs. Without any hesitation, he splits your legs open for you and aggressively spits directly onto your already dripping cunt. He wastes no time prying your hole open with two fingers, smearing his spit all over.

“My messy, messy girl. So fucking pretty.” His groans come out so deep and gravely, his eyes blackened with lust.

As he pushes his fingers in and out, he relishes in the squelching sounds you make for him, letting out breathy chuckles and moans at every single sound. Your whines ring in his ears, causing him to be just as blissed out as you are, drunk on you and the way your sloppy pussy clenches around his fingers.

“You wanna cum, huh?” He chuckles as his fingers pick up speed and you nod your head rapidly.

“Yes, yes, Daddy, please!”

“Mm, whiny little pup, go ahead.” He watches your face contort with pleasure as you reach your first orgasm of the night, or so you thought.

Mike pulls his fingers from your dripping cunt as you cum, letting you clench and convulse around nothing while he sucks his fingers clean. He relishes in your cries, loving the look on your desperate little face.

His hands grip your hips tight, holding you against the bed to ground you as you come down from your ruined orgasm. Your breathing slows and he reaches over to grab the glass of water he brought you earlier.

“Here you go, drink up, angel.” He uses one hand to tilt your chin up slightly while he uses the other to pour the water down your throat. He makes you swallow all of it and if you weren’t so fuzzy-headed, you might have been able to guess where this was going.

He sets the empty glass down on the nightstand before standing and stripping himself completely, and he motions for you to come to the edge of the bed.

“Lay down on your back, head hanging off the edge, got it?” he demands and you nod happily. Before you comply, he gives you another sloppy kiss, your tongues mashing together.

Mike’s thick cock hangs above your face as you lay yourself down. You stick your tongue out to lick the precum from his tip, but he stops you, grabbing your throat and putting slight pressure on the sides.

“C’mon, be patient baby.” You whimper and squirm under his grip, your brain empty and filled with only thoughts of his cock inside you. Finally, his grip tightens slightly as he slowly slides his cock past your lips. You can feel your mouth stretch as you adjust to his size. He’s always been average in length, but his thickness is what always ruins you.

“Fffuck- god this tight throat, you’re so good for me, letting me do this to you,” he’s babbling now, going absolutely delirious with the way your mouth feels around his cock, his strong hand clenching around your throat, holding you steady as he fucks it like he would your pussy. “What a good slut, so so pretty, takes this cock so well, god.”

Your hands fly to his hips urging him to go deeper even as you gag on his cock, the tip of your nose making contact with his pelvis. Saliva pools in your mouth and despite his already tight grip on your neck, your throat gets even tighter from the lack of air as you breathe solely through your nose.

“You like when Daddy takes allll his stress out on you? Being Daddy’s little toy? Fuck- I love it.” You make an attempt to respond to him but anything you try to say just comes out muffled. “God, as much as I wanna cum right down your throat, I wanna save it all for that pretty cunt, what do you think, baby?”

He pulls out of your mouth in one swift movement and you gasp and sputter for air. You sit up and face him, salvia all down your chin and mascara running.

He smiles at you adoringly before reaching out to smear your spit all over your face and giving your cheek a nice slap, gentle but firm enough that you felt a slight sting. “What a pretty girl, huh? You ready to take Daddy’s cock?”

“Um, I have to pee first, Daddy,” you mumble, about to head to the bathroom.

“That’s okay, darling, don’t worry about it.” He smirks before climbing on top of you, forcing you down under him. You’re too braindead to understand what he means and a puzzled look comes across your face, but before you can protest, he’s stuffing his cock into your soaking cunt.

“Oh my god, baby, fuck- this pussy feels good,” he groans obscenely.

You put your hands on his chest. “But- Daddy, please, I really gotta go!” you beg.

“Go then,” he huffs. “You’re my messy little baby, aren’t you? W-want you to piss and squirt all over me, mkay?” His voice wavers slightly as he pounds into you, feeling himself get a little lost in how good you feel once again.

You whimper as you nod slightly, the pressure building in your stomach as well as your orgasm. He places a hand on your lower abdomen and presses down, silently encouraging you to let it out. You’re absolutely embarrassed at the thought of pissing all over him, but you know he likes you a sloppy mess for him, and you want nothing more than to give this man what he wants.

You hold it until you physically can’t anymore, your orgasm hitting you as you release all over his cock. The sounds were absolutely obscene, skin sloppily hitting skin, slamming into your cunt as you splash everywhere.

“Holy shit, angel, so fucking wet, god I love it,” he moans. “It’s my turn now, right baby? You want me to piss inside this soaked cunt? God, please.”

You could barely respond with your orgasm still running through you. You attempted to say yes, but you’re not really sure what came out of your mouth, probably just more incoherent moans.

Before you could even process, you could feel the warmth of his piss spreading inside your stomach. You could feel it dripping out of you as he stilled inside you. It felt so good on top of your continuous orgasm and you loved every second of it. You could see the blissed out joy across Mike’s face and you could tell he loved it too.

After a few seconds, he picked up his pace again, to your surprise.

“Daddy, please, I-I can’t ta- no more, please!” you whined, breathlessly. Every single nerve ending of yours was shot, way too overstimulated to continue.

“C’mon, just one more baby, gimme one more, Daddy just need to breed this little cunt and then we can be done okay?” He reassures you as he pounded into you mercilessly.

In almost no time at all, you felt another orgasm build in your gut, and you squirted any fluids you had left onto his stomach.

“Good girl, baby.” He smirks before moving his hands back to your hips to hold you down. “Just need to- fuck, oh my god, I’m gonna cum, gonna put a fucking baby in you, shhhit-” The warmth spread through you again as you feel him pump you full with his cum.

You’re both breathing heavy as his dick twitches inside you, his head hanging over yours and him smiling down at you.

“You did so good, baby.” He slowly pulls out of you and you whine at the empty feeling in your cunt. “Took everything I gave you so well, let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

[fandomnerd9602]

Wedding Daze (Pt. 2)

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

The day had arrived. Yours and Wanda’s wedding. You were finally marrying the doe hybrid of your dreams.

You woke up on your couch to the rich smell of pancakes. You turned to your kitchen to find Wanda baking at the stove. The boys were coloring at the table.

“Good morning my buck” your mate intones with a smile on her face. The light catches her antler’s ivory shine at just the right angle.

The boys came rushing out of their room, excited as could be. To you, this was just a glimpse at the life that awaited you after today.

And then came a knock at the door. Natasha burst in a second later.

“Come on Bambi” she ushered her friend to the door. “We got to start getting you ready.”

“But i made breakfast” Wanda grasps for her spatula.

“Fine. Breakfast first. Then wedding prep. Hey (Y/N)!” It’s like your best pal completely forgot about you for a split second.

Within the hour, your pal Natasha whisked your mate off for last second wedding planning things. Pietro was more than happy to whisk you and your boys off to the venue.

The venue in question was the sanctuary courtyard. Under the gazebo, you would say your vows, unifying you and Wanda in holy matrimony. You could feel your heart flutter just thinking about it.

“So who’s gonna be your best man, Poppa?” Billy asked.

“I don’t have a best man, bud” you answer back. His face dropped a little before you picked up Billy and Tommy and continued, “I got two!”

The twins giggled in excitement. You and Pietro worked to string up the lights and decorate the gazebo.

Tony Stark, ever the show off, arrived with the dance floor, DJ and catering taken care of.

“Can’t have you dance in the grass” he shrugged.

“No paparazzi?”

“At my pal’s wedding? I’m not that heartless” he gives a wink and helps set up the DJ too.

Dusk was fast approaching as you and Wanda found yourselves getting ready in separate rooms. Pietro walked into Wanda’s room as she stood there in her forest themed wedding dress.

“Sestra you look…wow” was all he could say. “If Momma and Poppa could see you now”

“Will you walk me down the aisle, Pietro?”

“Of course” he gives Natasha a quick wink.

A familiar face came running up to your bride. The little pitter patter of cheetah feet hitting the grass as Riri came running up and hugged Wanda tightly.

“Wanda!” The little cheetah hybrid giggled. Wanda was practically a teary eyed mess as she held the little cub whose life she changed, was back in her arms.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but smile as Riri’s adoptive parents came up to you with smiles on their faces. A nice panther hybrid couple walking arm in arm.

“T’Challa, Nakia,” you greeted them, “I’m so glad you and Riri could make it”

“Thank you for the invite,” the panther gentleman spoke up, his voice rich like that of a king. “Riri was so excited on the car ride”

“So much energy,” Nakia chimes in, “but we love her so much”

Wanda holds Riri close. “Would you like to be one of my bridesmaids?” Your doe asks with a grin.

The boys were all getting ready with you as you finalized some details with T’Challa and Nakia. They anticipated that Riri would be part of the ceremony.

You lead the boys out to the gazebo. Turns out your old friend Tony had taken a couple certification classes.

“Hey if anyone’s marrying you, it’ll be me” Tony intoned before immediately backtracking, “not that I like you in that way, I belong to Pepper after all.”

You straighten out your boys’ outfits. They looked so cute in their little tuxedos.

You could see everyone in the crowd. Your friends, Dr Stephen Strange, Pepper with baby Morgan, Yelena and Kate, T’Challa and Nakia, a few co-workers. But you couldn’t see…

Your thought was cut off as Natasha came up to the gazebo and took her place as maid of honor. Riri was right behind her, taking her place as a bridesmaid. And then came to classic wedding march.

Pietro interlocked his arm with Wanda’s as he led her down the aisle. Wanda’s face was obscured by wedding veil. And yet thru the veil, you could see only love and adoration in her eyes. She walked down that aisle like the queen she was.

The design on her wedding dress was an interlocking design of stitched branches of woven gold. It was beautiful. It made your queen look like a goddess.

Pietro led Wanda right up to you and gave you a wink. He joined his nephews at their side.

“Dearly beloved,” Tony intoned. “We are gathered here today to join these two souls in matrimony. And as I understand, the happy couple has their own vows”

Wanda turned to you and took your hands in hers, “detka, you made me see so much that I never saw before. You made me see how brave I truly am, that I am a survivor. You helped me to learn to love again. Now all I want to do is spend my days, loving you, raising our boys together, protecting you when you need it, comforting you when you’re hurting. I will love you into eternity and into forever”

You try to fight back the tears but you find your strength, “Wanda you are the light of my life, my strength, my heart, my mate, my everything. I will love you til my dying breath. I pledge to love you each and every day, to be your strong tower, your lighthouse in life’s many storms. To be there for you and our boys in every and all seasons. I love you Wanda Maximoff and I am all yours.”

A few tears make their way down your doe’s cheek, “I love you and I’m all yours too”

“(Y/N), Wanda,” Tony smiles, “you may kiss the bride”

You couldn’t kiss her fast enough as you moved the veil up and around her glorious antlers. She grabbed you by your suit’s collar and pulled you into a fiery, passionate kiss.

The building embers in your chest exploded into a fiery inferno of your love and passion for each other as the crowd clapped and cheered for you.

Billy and Tommy were clapping and cheering as you and Wanda slid your rings onto each other’s fingers. And with that it was official.

“May I present to you, (Y/N) and Wanda Maximoff-(L/N)” Tony announced to the cheering crowd.

You held your wife close. Your wife. It sounded just so right.

Pietro wiped away a stray tear. “Saw that, tough guy” Natasha whispered in his ear.

“And now the newlyweds shall share their first dance” Tony announces, “try not to step on each other’s toes”

You lead your bride out to the center of the dance floor. Her hand lands gently on your shoulder as yours takes a hold of her waist. She interlocks her other hand with yours.

Heart beats fast

Colors and promises

How to be brave?

How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?

But watching you stand alone

All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

“My buck” she whispers

“My doe” you whisper right back.

The two of you sway to the music, the world around you just evaporates. In this moment, it’s just you and the woman you love. The gentle lights of the Edison bulbs reflect in your eyes and bounce gently off her ivory like antlers.

I have died every day waiting for you

Darling, don't be afraid

I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more

Pietro smiles, his attention at first on the two of you, but then he finds his eyes drawn to Natasha. The way she gently held your boys made his heart flutter. She was a natural mother.

And all along I believed I would find you

Time has brought your heart to me

I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more

You held your doe tight in your arms and kissed her softly to the clapping of the crowd. Little Billy and Tommy ran out to you both. You and Wanda were more than happy to share this next dance. The dance of a family.

You and your doe danced with your little boys in your arms. You held Billy in your arms and Wanda held Tommy in hers.

You made your queen and princes feel exactly like that in this small moment as the four of you swayed to the music.

“Switch, detka” your wife gently says. You and her switch boys for the next song on your wedding playlist.

Pietro watched from the corner of the dance floor. A bittersweet smile made its way across his face. He looked up to the stars above.

“Don’t worry Vis, they are loved” he says softly.

Natasha saunters up to him, drink in hand.

“Care to dance, Romanoff?” He asks with a smirk.

“Unless it’s Swan Lake, I don’t do much dancing.” She stares at him with intent. “But there are other things we can do, Maximoff.”

She walks off and Pietro quickly follows.

You locked eyes with the love of your life and smiled. She smiled right back. A love story that was just turning to its next chapter. And you were looking forward to writing it with your wife and two boys.

You and Wanda walked off arm in arm, ready to face the future as married mates. Nothing was gonna surprise the two of you anymore.

And then you came face to face with Pietro and Natasha making out in the nearby bushes. The two of them were practically trying to rip their outfits off.

“Bratok?!” Wanda exclaimed, trying to hide her shock.

“Hey sis” he said slightly embarrassed. Natasha simply purred, her wolf tail swishing.

“Always knew you were a tail chaser, Piet” you chuckle before guiding your bride back to the reception and your kids.

Tomorrow you and your family would hit the road for a family vacation. Your family. Your wife, your boys, it sounded just right.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @texaswolf23 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @idkwhatever580 @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @russianredassassin @revanshand @multi-fandom-enjoyer @julieromanoff

[lavylesby]

Family Reunion

hey guys! ^^ I officially have an AO3 account! :D so here's my first story (I'll be posting it here and on AO3):

Family Reunion

Author's Notes: There are two users on Tumblr, @akiiame and @coffeecat1983, who came up with the idea that Sonic is Mario and Luigi's pet. @akiiame made an adorable drawing, and @coffeecat1983 took it and ran with it as a fanfic. I would like to expand on this, as this is my first ever story on AO3, and I think it's an absolutely wonderful concept. Thank you reading my first story, and please don't hesitate to give me constructive criticism! Now then, onward and upward! ^^

"Hrrmgph." "Soonik." "Why does he keep making that sound?" Luigi laughed. He joyfully tossed the little hedgehog another treat, and continued chuckling at his hungry enthusiasm. Sonic. That's a perfect name, Mario thought. But where the heck did he even come from? And why is he blue? "Hey, Lu?" Luigi's ears perked up at his brother's tone. There was a slight hint of concern. "What's wrong, Mar?" he asked. "You don't think we could get in trouble, do you?" Mario replied. Luigi turned in his chair, being mindful of his cast. "Trouble for what? Clearly nobody was caring for 'im. You didn't know he'd show up at work." He got up and hugged his older sibling, who sighed. "We ain't do nothing wrong, bro," Luigi assured him. "If you want, we can take Sonic to the vet tomorrow and get 'im checked out." Mario gently squeezed his little brother. "OK. I guess it'll be alright." He turned to see the bright blue ball, eagerly snorting for more treats. "You gonna be spoiled, boy," Mario giggled. He scooped Sonic into his hands and hand-fed him one last treat. The little hedgehog must've realized this would be the end of his snacks, and he squealed in protest. "MMRRPGH!!" "SOOOOONIK!!" Luigi collapsed into laughter. "No more treats!" Mario chided him lovingly. "It's time for you to rest, buddy."

A few hours and a few helpings of Ma's lasagna later, Mario finished building and decorating Sonic's new home. Luigi chipped in where he could, even giving the rodent one of his favorite stuffed toys. Now, Sonic was fast asleep in his brand new, ultra fluffy bed, with all but his inquisitive snout being covered by a delicate blanket. Luigi was fascinated by the creature. He quietly hummed an Italian lullaby to help him sleep. Mario joined him later, and when the song ended, the bros embraced, and the older kissed the younger's cheeks. "How's your leg?" Mario asked gently. "It's just a dull pain right now," Luigi said. "I've got my meds, so I think I'll get a good night's sleep for once." Unfortunately, the pain from his injury had given him a nearly sleepless week. Luckily, he was stuck at home most days, so he could take naps when he had the chance. Luigi gingerly stood up and kissed his brother's forehead. "I'll be fine, fratellone," he murmured. "C'mon, let's go to bed." Mario took one last peek at his new pal. "G'night, Sonic," he whispered. As if responding, the spiky rodent let out a gentle, hushed grumble. The bros smiled at each other, happy to be hedgehog parents.

Sound asleep, Luigi snored peacefully. Despite being unconscious, he knew he was warm, comfortable, and safe, and his brother was at his side. Or was he? Luigi's brain prompted him to wake up. He realized that Mario was standing over him, having recently kissed his nose. "Mar?" he asked groggily. "Why are you up at 4 AM…?" "Spike called," he whispered. "I gotta come in, he said there's something I need to see." "Can't it wait until morning?" Luigi complained. "I dunno, he sounded pretty worried," Mario replied. "Y'know he never gets worried about anything." He grabbed his toolbox and ruffled Luigi's hair. "I made you some breakfast, you can heat it up when you're ready. Marty will come by to look at Sonic later," he said, Marty being the vet. Luigi mmphed a response. Mario shut the bedroom door behind him, and Luigi prepared to go back to the murkiness of sleep… …until Mario shouted. Quick, thudding footsteps made their way back to the bedroom. The door swung open. "Where's Sonic?!" Mario demanded. "Huh?? What do you mean?" Luigi said, still slightly confused. Perhaps he was dreaming. "He should still be in his cage…right?" "He's gone!" "Gone?? How?!" "The latch is wide open, and there's a hole in the front door!" Luigi was wide awake now. He ignored his leg pain and hurriedly began to dress. "I'm coming with you." "Lu, you need to stay!" "If Spike is worried, and you found Sonic at work, there's a good chance he went there and we'll find out what's going on. I have my crutches." Mario sighed. Despite his timid tendencies, he knew that once Luigi set his mind on something, there was no convincing him otherwise. "Well, c'mon then." The bros locked arms to aid Luigi, leaving their damaged door to be resolved later.

"Oh, thank God you're here!" Spike ran from the construction site to greet the bros. "Hey Luigi, whatta you doin' here? Thought you was patching up?" "I am," he said. "But Sonic is missing." "Eh, Sonic?" Spike paused for a moment. "Oh, the blue rat thing! Well, he ain't missing no more." Spike stepped aside, and to the bros' surprise, Sonic was standing right behind him. The so-called "blue rat thing" ran up to Mario and nuzzled his leg. "Boy, what is you doin'???" Mario exclaimed. "The sun ain't even out yet!" But before he could grab his strange companion, Sonic dashed off again, and motioned to the wrecking crew to follow him. "I couldn't sleep, so I came here to assess what our next step would be," Spike said. "All of a sudden the rat comes along and just would not stop squeaking! And he's so fast!" "Well, that would explain the door," Luigi chuckled. "But he would have to be REALLY fast to break it." "Yeah…" Mario agreed absentmindedly. His concern grew with every step he took to follow Sonic. Eventually, the group stopped at what appeared to be a nest. Sonic slowed down, and turned to face his humans. But before they could ask questions, Sonic turned back around and began uttering a low call. "ruuuuuuIMPH." "ruuuuuuuuuu…ruuuuuuuuIMPH." Mario, Luigi, and Spike shared hasty glances. They had no idea what was happening. "Tooooils…" "NuuuuuuuKLS…" "Soooodooow…" "Mimimimi…" The rodent continued repeating these calls, and to everyone's shock, several small creatures emerged from the makeshift nest. Mario was stunned. "Are-are…are those more hedgehogs???" Luigi gasped. "Look, one of 'em's got 2 tails!" Spike shouted. Sonic ran over to what could only be his family, his quills quivering joyfully. The creatures exchanged grunts, nuzzles, and rubs. Sonic turned once more, and you could almost make out a smile on his face in the early morning light. Mario managed to snap back to reality, and his heart filled with warmth. He knelt down to pet his blue baby. "Is this your family, buddy?" he asked. Sonic squeaked in response, and Mario caressed his ears. "Well, they can come with us." "They can??" Luigi gasped once more. Mario grabbed the two-tailed creature, who grunted gratefully. "Yeah…we can share them with Peach and the others, and they can meet each other sometimes." Spike was absolutely speechless. He just stared off as the bros scooped the petite animals and left. He heard a small bit of their fading conversation. "…Is Marty open now…?" "Yeah I guess we can…" "…Tails? That's awes…!" "I'm pretty sure he…"

-------------------

Thanks for reading! ^^ Can't wait to get started on AO3. Once again @akiiame @coffeecat1983 thanks for the idea! :D

[orbitariums]

FINALLY BLACK READER CHALLENGERS FICS WOOOO!!! plz do stanford!art dating black track star! reader👀👀 patrick can be involved too maybe he goes to stanford idk

no more running | art donaldson + black trackstar! reader

i know nothing about track (or tennis!) so bear with me

art was infatuated with you the moment he saw you at a track meet tashi’s dragged him to — he really had no interest in anything but tennis, that is until he saw you.

you were perfect, all silky brown skin and braids pulled up into a high ponytail, with the physique of a lioness. and it helps that your body's insane – you're visibly strong and you carry yourself well. you moved with a flourish, effortlessly and gracefully. nothing and nobody could stand in your way — except maybe art. you'd heard his name echoed all around campus for how much of a tennis god he was, but now, in front of you, he presented as anything but. he was stumbling over his words and his feet introducing himself to you, all crooked smiles and awkward handshakes.

"hi. i'm art. donaldson. art donaldson. but you can just call me art, obviously you don't have to call me by my full name, that would be weird."

you couldn't help but grin, though your brows furrowed together in confusion,

"right... hi. i'm—"

"yn. i know. i'm uhh, a friend of tashi's. you were really talented out there today."

"is my friend bothering you?" came tashi's voice from around the corner. you started packing your things in your duffel bag, shaking your head with a laugh that made art's heart melt,

"no, the opposite actually."

"great," tashi grinned knowingly. "well in that case... lunch?"

it was history from there. art started showing up to all your meets, and you to his tennis games. it was cute, the way you cheered each other on and pretended it was nothing more than camaraderie and sportsmanship between friends. the way you pretended art's bicep flexing with every thwack his racket made against the tennis ball didn't make your throat run dry. the way art pretended watching you stretch on the field before a match, your shorts lifting up to reveal the expanse of skin just above your thigh didn't make him shift in his seat.

if patrick weren't with tashi, he'd probably go for you too, and art knew it. it's why he almost gets defensive when patrick comes to visit and the four of you go on these little psuedo double dates, since neither you nor art had addressed the fact that you wanted each other. he was always courteous with you, but he made sure to hold every door open for you, pull out every chair, and even paid for your food. it was like he was showing patrick that this was his girl, and it amused patrick so much that he told art,

"if you're gonna fuck her, just do it. you don't need to go getting my approval."

"i'm not trying to fuck her, pat. and i'm not getting your approval. i just... i don't know, i want her to be mine."

"i'm pretty sure she's yours already, pal. have you seen the way you two act?

it's a slow burn, but it feels so good to wait. art kisses you finally during one of your study dates together — you both only have so much time to actually focus on school as student athletes, so you spend that time together — it's soft and longing and sweet. you become something of a power couple on campus, making signs for each others' games and running up to art on the field after he's won, letting him lift you up into his arms and swing you around — never mind the trophy.

art runs ice baths for you when you need them, and lets his strong hands groove into your sore muscles, blushing at your relieved moans. he's got no problem stretching you out in other ways too, fucking you slow and deep like he's just trying to pass the time inside you, spending hours letting your pleasure unfold before him. letting your fingernails leave scars on his back because he has enough already from his sport, what's a few more?

when you have early team meetings, art makes you breakfast and sends you off with your favorite strawberry smoothies he makes. he helps you with meal prep every week, spending hours in domestic bliss with you in your on-campus apartment. when you're not studying together or sleeping together, you're at the gym together, art's hands hovering just by your hips to "help spot you" during deadlift squats.

on your media day, art helps you slick your natural hair up into a bun, aghast at how much edge control you insist on using. he also insists on teaching you to play tennis — you're vehemently against it at first, but you realize how much it actually improves your game. and you don't mind art cozying up behind you to "improve your backhand," even if it means you end up with your tennis skirt flipped over and the racket long forgotten. the same goes for art, except he just wants to curse you out after the first time you make him try uphill weighted sled sprints.

whatever you do, you do it together. you just get each other. and art knows he's found something special in you.

[limbuscompanysituations]

Would love to hear how the sinners are when they are hungover?

(Totes not asking because I am nursing my own hangover rn)

~🦭

I hope you have healed from your hangover, raccoon pal!

Faust: she is never hungover, pft. What? You think a genius such as her would ever succumb to something as silly as a hangover? She knows her limits. She is definitely not hungover, she's only a little slower than usual because she's deep in thought about some complicated experiment. And those five aspirins she took in one go are also part of that experiment. Stop asking silly questions.

Yi Sang: He threw up the moment he woke up. He threw up after taking painkillers. He drank a little bit of water and threw up again. Right now his face is greenish pale. Maybe they should take him to a medical office... The others try their best to keep him hydrated so he can heal from that pesky hangover. It still takes him an entire day to go back to normal.

Don Quixote: She never wakes up hungover. She's as loud as ever and it kills the other sinners who are nursing their own headaches. Couple hours after she woke up it finally hits her and she collapses somewhere and sleeps for six hours straight. Then she wakes up as thirsty as a camel.

Ryoshu: She's prone to great violence at the smallest noise. Everybody's walking on eggshells the moment they see she has a hangover. She doesn't smoke for a couple hours and is much quieter than the usual.

Ishmael: She's miserable the whole day, even after her headache has gotten much better. Her upset stomach doesn't let her eat much. She takes it easy.

Heathcliff: He's cursing people left and right, and just like Ryoshu, he's prone to violence at the smallest noises. It's all bark and no bite though, picking up his bat makes his headache worse for some reason. Completely forgets he needs to hydrate so it gets better and ends up spending a whole day hungover.

Meursault: Knows he has to hydrate, takes painkillers and controls what meals he will have through the day. Heals in a matter of a couple hours and is back to being a productive member of society. Everybody is jealous of him.

Hong Lu: He said that you only get hungover if you stop drinking and tried to take a shot of liquor at breakfast. The other sinners stopped him and made him sit down, eat a light meal, take painkillers and keep hydrated. He pouted through it all but resigned himself to his fate. Secretly loving being pampered a little bit, even if everybody is annoyed at him.

Outis: She's so cranky she sounds like an old woman... wait, she is an old woman. Everybody is annoyed at her and wants her to quit yapping, but she will yap at the slightest mistake. The sinners are secretly waiting for Ryoshu to get annoyed at her enough to cut her tongue or something. Nobody wants things to turn to violence, of course, because it's always a bother when it happens. However, for this one case, they will make an exception.

Sinclair: As unexpected as it is, he doesn't really have much trouble with hangovers. An aspirin, a bottle of water and a little peace and quiet and he will be back to his anxious usual self.

Rodion: It takes a lot for her to be hungover. When she finally hits that limit, the next day she will be quieter than usual and will keep asking everybody to talk less. She will also complain about how loud the entire bus is, and even ask Charon to turn the engine off for a second. She will steal the nearest person's aspirins and water and justify it by saying she needs them more.

Gregor: Oh he's so miserable. He leans back on his seat with his eyes shut tight, occasionally groaning when the bus goes through a lump on the road. He's absolutely out of it. Don't even try to make him get into a fight. He's taking double aspirins every hour or so and hasn't touched a cig the whole day. The water bottle is his best friend right now.

[cowpokeomens]

Dress

Pairing: Will Ramos x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+ this is straight up self-serving porn!!!!!!! Minors go away!!!! Anyways this has got everything: Biting, p-in-v, blowjobs, fingering (female receiving), breeding kink, big ole praise kink, me projecting how badly I want to swallow William's load, I think that's it but by all means DM me or reply if you think I should add something!

Literally no one hmu unless it's to talk about this photo. It has nothing to do with the story but I wanna fuck him so bad so I'm putting it here. It's my blog I do what I want.

Yes I was listening to Dress by Taylor Swift as I wrote this!!!! Yes it's one of the horniest songs in her discography!!!! Leave me alone!!!!

Anyways.

This is straight up porn, no plot in sight, no beta because I'm insane, no fucks given because I'm a whore! Enjoy.

____________________________________________

Will was about to vibrate out of his fucking skin. 

He’s irritable, too- a far cry from his usual “Sunshine and Rainbows” disposition. People kept trying to make conversation, ask him about the tour, compliment the new album. It would end with a curt, “Yeah, it was a lot of fun,” as his eyes would be dragged from whoever he was talking to back to you.

The dress was unfair. It was diabolical, even. He searched his memory, trying to come up with a reason you’d put him under such physical and emotional duress. He did the dishes last night, made breakfast this morning- he even folded the laundry! In terms of “deserving of death by nefarious garments,” his conscience was clear. 

Yet there you were, clad in the slinkiest little black dress that he never knew you owned. You had spent hours in front of the mirror, perfecting your makeup, carefully styling your hair. It had been fun for him to watch; Fun to listen to your “Ultimate Emo” playlist and jam out while you painstakingly applied a swipe of lipstick, a striking mark of eyeliner. It was fun. 

He stopped having fun the moment you stepped out in the goddamned thing. 

“Zip me up?” You had asked, batting mascara-ed lashes at him sweetly. His brain had short circuited for a second, rebooting completely when it started overheating. Zip you up? He wanted to eat you up, toss you over his shoulder like a caveman and keep you in bed for hours. 

“Where are you going in that?” He asked incredulously. Your breasts were about to fall out, fabric clinging to the small of your waist. There were other details- lace and ribbons and shit he didn’t have the vocabulary for when his head was running on all cylinders, much less now. You turned around so he could reach the zipper better, and he genuinely wondered if the anime nosebleeds were onto something with how quickly the blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your ass stretching the fabric.

“Um, to the jamboree your label is hosting?” You retort with a giggle. “C’mon, we’re going to be late to this shindig if we don’t leave soon.”

He had complied, after some whining, zipping you up and kissing you softly on your shoulder, willing his cock to miraculously soften. 

Then you had arrived, and he was swept away by record executives, you saw a group of gal-pals, and he had to keep his hands to himself.

For hours. 

Will’s hands itched with the urge to reach out and touch you, twitching at his sides. Someone said something that must have been fucking hilarious, because you were laughing, head thrown back, chest heaving-

I can’t do this. He thinks to himself. This is a task for men stronger than me.

Quickly downing the last dregs of his cocktail, he impolitely excuses himself from the group he was speaking with, maneuvering through the mass of people to where you stood. 

“Hi baby!” You call when he enters your line of sight, smiling brightly. You’re in a small group of people who also greet Will upon his arrival, immediately asking about the tour. 

“It was a lot of fun, thanks for asking.” Will mumbles distractedly, eyes never leaving you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand, love bug?” 

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Oh, sure.” You quickly excuse yourself from the group, leaving with warm goodbyes and tight hugs. Will thinks he’ll catch on fire before the two of you make it out of the building, but then you’re walking over to join him, the two of you quickly working through the crowd.

“Is everything okay, Will?” You ask when you’re both out of earshot. Concern is evident in your tone, and Will fights the urge to smooth the crease between your eyebrows with a kiss. 

“Yeah, just itchy is all.” He murmurs to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head as you both exit the building. Itchy was a good word; He was practically crawling out of his skin with the urge to get you undressed, underneath him. 

Guilt overtook your pretty features. “Oh baby, was the party too much? If you felt overstimulated, we could have left earlier-”

“No, I’m fine, pretty girl, really. It’s just-” He sighs, stopping in the parking lot to dig his keys out of his pocket.

“Did I do something?” You sound so sad, eyes widening. Will could practically see your mind sifting through the evening, trying to find some misstep.

“No, no baby- stop. I can see you overthinking, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just-” He sighs again, pausing by the car now. He glance around the two of you, making sure you were alone, before guiding your hand to his groin. 

Your eyes went dark at what you found there. “Holy shit, you’re- how long?” You stammer, sounding hoarse.

“Ever since you put on that fucking dress.” He admits sheepishly. 

“C’mon.” You nod towards the car, motioning for him to get inside. 

You made quick work of shutting your door, Will about to start the car when you stop him. 

“Leave it off.” You command, making his eyebrows shoot up in question. “Less conspicuous.”

“Less conspicuous for wha-” Will’s question was cut off as your lips locked with his in a searing kiss. You gripped his shirt in your hands, dragging him closer to you. 

“All hard for me, huh?” You whisper against his lips. 

He’s nodding before he realizes it. “So hard, baby, all fucking night, all for you.”

You’re nodding with him, already drunk off of the power you have over him. “Let’s get you taken care of then, yeah?” 

You tear your lips away from his to better unbutton and unzip his pants, tugging the fabric down the best you could in the cramped space. He hisses as you pull his briefs down so that his cock can spring free. 

“Holy shit.” You breathed, taking him in.

He’s always been big- you were familiar with that part- but you’d never seen him after being hard for hours. The veins on his cock were bulging angrily, the tip shiny with precum and deliciously red. 

“Poor thing,” you say in a saccharine voice, leaning in to kiss the cherry-red tip. 

He outright keens at that, hips barely jerking up, like it was taking everything to hold himself down. “Don’t be mean, pretty girl.”

You give him one last grin before you’re swallowing him down, stopping three-quarters of the way down to soothe your gag reflex.

“Fuck-“ Will gasps into the air, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. His grip tightens, and you feel your control over the situation slipping away. “Fucking tease tonight, huh? Not enough to wear your slutty little dress, couldn’t wait to get my cock in your mouth either, could you?” 

You whimper almost silently at his words, but he feels the vibrations of it on his cock. “Little slut likes that? Does she want me to use her pretty mouth?” He continues, pulling you up by your hair just enough for you to be able to speak.

You relinquish any semblance of control you had when you manage a small, “Please.” 

He grins at you, so far from his regular, cheerful smile, and pulls you in for one last kiss. It’s sloppy and wet and wonderful, and you’re almost sad when he yanks you away by your hair again to guide you down to his cock. 

“Open.” He commands, the gruffness of his voice making you quickly do as you were told. His cock is in your throat immediately, but before you can gag, he’s pulling you back up roughly. You manage half a gasp of air before you’re being shoved back down, swallowing him again. He continues fucking your face at a brutal pace; Soon spit is covering your chin, and you can feel you mascara running down your cheeks in the form of tears. 

“So fucking good for me.” Will grunts, hips thrusting up to meet your face. “Such a good girl, taking what she’s given.”

The praise makes you moan- or at least, as much as you could with him fucking your mouth so thoroughly. You’re lost in the sensation of him so deep in your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose as he uses you. His thrusts start becoming irregular, a chant of your name and “fuck” falling from his lips as his movements grew shorter and shorter. 

Oh, you think. He’s so close, you can see it in the tension of his body, in the drawn-up expression on his face. You want nothing more than for him to finish in your mouth, to make you swallow it down, but he pulls out abruptly, chest heaving with labored breaths. 

“Is something wrong?” You’re pouting, you can feel yourself pouting. 

He sees your face and huffs a laugh, still panting. “Pretty girl wants my cum that bad?”

His words- the vulgarity of them- color your cheeks pink. Although… Yeah. That was exactly what you wanted. You nod, the smallest movement. 

You think you hear him stop breathing, but then he speaks again. “C’mere, honey, I’ll give you what you need.” He motions to his lap, where his cock is beckoning you like a siren at sea. You hastily go to unzip your dress, but he stops you. “Leave it on.” His gaze drags down your form, back up to your throat, where his eyes linger for a moment before he’s looking into your eyes again. “Leave all of it on.”

His words make you shiver, but you obey, crawling over to straddle his lap. He yanks your panties to the side in record time, immediately thrusting two fingers into you. You mewl at the sensation, eyes squeezing shut as your hand comes up to slap over your mouth to muffle the sound. 

“Nuh uh, let me hear.” His voice is in your ear, nose rubbing against the lobe of it. “Let me hear your pretty sounds- God, you’re so fucking wet.”

You could hear him moving his fingers inside you, even over your own noises. You grind down into his hand without consciously realizing you’re doing so, chasing the pleasure his fingers brought you. You open your eyes blearily, wanting to see him, only to find that he’s studying that same spot again, right at the base of your neck. Jutting your chin up so that your throat is completely vulnerable, you give him a meaningful look. 

He accepts the offer, teeth coming down to bite at your pulse point. The moan that escapes you is profane, dwindling to the pathetic whimper of an injured animal as he sucks at the skin where he bit, soothing it with his tongue. Your chest is next, ample cleavage on display for his lips to lock onto, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin with ease. The hand that’s not fucking into you grips onto your waist to leave another bruise, pulling you impossibly closer.

You know what he’s doing- Marking what’s his, letting everyone know who you belong to. And you couldn’t care less about the perception of it, lost in the pleasure of his lips and the sensation of being owned. Arching into his mouth, your hands tangle in his hair as your legs start to quiver with unadulterated want. 

“‘M close, Will I’m-” You pant, tugging at his hair desperately. 

“I know, pretty girl, be good and come for me so I can fuck you properly.” He whispers into your neck, and that’s all it takes to hurtle you over the edge, shaking with your orgasm even as he replaces his fingers with his cock.

It’s so much more- more girth, more length. It stretches you, fills you up to the brim. You’re still in the aftershocks of coming as he starts fucking you in earnest, yanking you into his chest until you feel like you can’t get a breath in. You’re practically wailing, the sensitivity of getting fucked so quickly after orgasming overwhelming, but it’s perfect. 

“You’re my girl, right?” He’s grunting, holding you stationary while his hips rock up into you at break-neck speed. “My pretty girl, all mine.”

You nod, incoherently babbling, “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours-”

“Want my cum?” He pulls back just enough to look in your eyes. It’s all love there- an all-consuming love that illuminates his gaze like a flame. “Want me to fill you up? Put a baby in you- Keep a baby in you?”

You’re nodding again, unintelligible sounds falling from your lips in response. “Please.” You finally manage to stammer out. 

He’s almost smiling, a joyous kind of pleasure overtaking his features as his thrusts grow erratic for the second time that evening. Your grip on him tightens as you feel yourself get closer and closer, tears springing in your eyes from the overstimulation. 

It hits you like a fucking train, face curled into his neck in a silent scream, legs spasming in every direction. He fucks you through it, coming in hot spurts inside you, thrusts growing sloppier until he finally nestles himself deep within you, setting you down gently in his lap again. 

You’re panting and trembling, completely collapsed against his chest. The both of you sit like that a few long minutes, his hand rubbing at the exposed part of your back soothingly. When you feel an iota of strength return to your body, you’re craning your neck up to kiss his cheek. 

He’s grinning, turning to look down at you. “Well shucks, thanks for the kiss, honey.”

You’re giggling with him, pushing yourself up so that your back is straight. You hiss as the movement moves him inside your sore hole, a shudder passing through your body. 

“You better cut that out, I’ll fuck you again if you’re not careful.” He warns teasingly, hands gripping your hips lightly. 

You flash him a grin, and then ready yourself for the chore of him pulling out. You know it’s going to be tender, but you still yelp as he slips out of you. Flopping into your seat, you give yourself another minute to collect your breath. He tucks his cock away, zipping up his pants carefully and starting the car.

You zone out for a moment, only recognizing the long silence that has stretched between the two of you after a few minutes more have passed. You look over at him, a question on your lips, when the look on his face makes you pause. 

He’s staring in between your legs, a small pout on his face. “It’s leaking out.” 

You throw your head back, barking a laugh at his distress. “I have an IUD as well, my love, I don’t think it’ll work no matter how hard you try.”

His eyes go dark at your words. “Then I’ll just try harder next time.”

Before you can respond, the car is in drive, and you’re headed home. You quickly buckle your seat belt, pulling down the passenger mirror to clean yourself up, stopping when you catch the first glimpse of your reflection.

Your makeup has smeared everywhere. Black streaks run down your cheeks in rivulets, your lipstick smudged around your mouth. Your tits are littered with bruises, lovebites of various colors decorating your skin. You look like a slutty fucking mess, You think to yourself. You’re searching for a napkin to wipe your face when Will speaks up again. 

“Leave it.” He flips on his turn signal, pulling onto your street. His jaw is tight, and you swear you can see a bulge in his trousers. He turns to look at you as he puts the car in park in front of your house, eyes already glossed over again. “Leave all of it.”

[glennjaminhow]

My newest hyperfixation ship finally manifests as a sick fic because of course it does.

~

Beautifully Broken Things

Tim wakes up disoriented.

While that’s not unusual for most, it is unusual for him. He’s alert before he’s even aware of his surroundings. That was drilled into him by the time he was four.

He rubs his eyes and groans as he pulls himself up, out of breath from the simplest task. He blinks through the darkness of his bedroom and sags against the headboard, careful not to get too comfortable. Dizziness brews in his skull, thick and foggy. He feels like he’s on a raft in the middle of the ocean, the waves relentless, violent, treacherous. It’s ridiculous. He’s in his bed, at home in Los Angeles. The idea that he’d be anywhere else is as absurd as it is impossible.

Okay. No big deal. He’s a little out of it, and that’s fine.

Kojo whines at his feet.

Tim runs a hand through his hair as he peels himself off the mattress. A wet cough rattles through his chest, but he ignores it in favor of letting Kojo out. The wooden floor is icy beneath his thermal socks. He usually goes outside with Kojo – sometimes even plays fetch with him depending on how late he got in – but not today. He feels strange… distant. Kind of like he isn’t really here. Instead, he stands at the door and stares out the frosted window, eyes heavy.

He jumps when Kojo barks.

“Sorry, pal,” Tim says as he lets him back inside.

The dog huffs and scampers away. His automatic feeder goes off, and then Kojo’s gone.

Tim should be eating too. He isn’t a big breakfast guy, so he typically just has overnight oats or a smoothie, but the idea of eating right not makes his stomach squirm. He has about half an hour before he has to shower. He could lie down on the couch – or better yet in his bed – and bundle himself in blankets, but the here-but-not-here feeling is so strong he’s afraid he won’t be able to get back up. He resorts to sitting at the kitchen table, too exhausted to make coffee even though maybe it’d help fix whatever is wrong with him.

Time passes in a glazed blur, too fast and too slow all at once. He autopilots his way through his morning routine. He brushes his teeth, combs his hair, puts in his contacts, throws on jeans and a hoodie, and is out of the house five minutes ahead of schedule. It doesn’t make any sense. Sometimes, he wakes up wrong, guilty or angry or upset or exhausted, but it never lasts this long. He’s great at snapping out of any funk before he enters the station.

“You okay?” is the first thing he hears when he opens the side door. Chen. Great.

He rolls his eyes. He just wants to get into uniform and on the road. Maybe focusing on the job will help.

“Fine,” he says. He heads to the locker room without looking back, even though the urge to read her facial expression is strong. Lucy always wants to know everything, even if it’s irrelevant things like his favorite ice cream flavor or that he’s allergic to strawberries. She’s like this way with other people too, but it’s more annoying because she was his boot and now she’s his gopher. It’s like he just can’t get away from her.

Tim changes. Grabs his thick police-issued coat. Coughs into his elbow a few times. Stands in front of the mirror to make sure his sure is tucked in properly and his hair is up to standards. Heads to morning roll call.

Lucy stops him before he can head inside. She places her hand on his chest; Tim shrinks back from the touch.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim nods. “I’m good.”

“You’re wearing your coat,” she points out. “You never wear your coat.”

“It’s December.” His voice is hushed and scratchy. Shit. He clears his throat, but it sounds weird.

Fantastic.

Lucy’s eyebrows furrow. “And?”

“Aaand I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Tim says as he pushes past her. “It’s just a coat.”

“It’s never ‘just’ anything with you,” Lucy mutters as she trails behind him.

Tim ignores her.

Somehow, by the grace of whatever, Tim doesn’t have to say a word during the briefing. Grey does all the talking, even down to announcing their jurisdictions and duties for the day. Tim stands off to the side, arms crossed over his chest and giving his best thousand-yard stare. He doesn’t focus on anything because focusing means feeling, and feeling means acknowledging that he’s shivering. Hard. So hard he swears his teeth are chattering.

No one seems to notice. Good.

Grey releases them. They disperse.

By the time he makes it to the shop, Lucy’s in the driver’s seat.

The urge to be in control is strong, but not as strong as the urge to sit down.

He’s thankful the shop is already warm, heat cranked to the max.

Lucy immediately passes him a thermos.

“Tea with honey,” she says.

Tim buckles his seatbelt and nods once. “Thanks.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine,” he tells her again.

Is it really that obvious?

He has to get better at hiding these things.

“Do you want an applesauce pouch? It could help your throat.”

Tim frowns. “Like the things that little kids eat?”

“Adults can eat them too,” Lucy says adamantly. He doesn’t know why he believes her. “I have apple, cinnamon, and peach mango.”

“Pass,” Tim says. “And my throat is fine.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. She hands Tim his sunglasses, which were tucked away in her breast pocket for some reason, and puts the shop in drive.

Tim puts them on without a second thought, pulls the sleeves of his coat over his hands, and crosses his arms. He stares out the window as they drive through the busy streets of LA. The morning is drizzling and overcast, but that doesn’t stop the Christmas festivities. He should be BOLOing and patrolling even from the shop, but the road ahead of him is fuzzy. There’s a tightness in his chest that builds with each passing second. He gulps and shifts in his seat, biting his bottom lip. He should be able to handle this. Whatever it is, whatever is going on with him, isn’t bad enough to cause all this drama.

He can handle it. He can handle it.

And he tries to breathe through it. He really does. But now he’s nauseous, and his mouth is salivating, and each blink hurts. His dad would kill him. His military brothers and leaders would laugh in his face and tell him to suck it up. Because that’s what he should do. That’s what he has to do. He needs to suck it up. He doesn’t know why he can’t. But the fact that he can’t means that he’s out of control and being out of control means chaos and chaos means –

“Tim?”

He swallows thickly.

“Pull over.”

She does, and Tim is barely able to open the door before he spills out onto the concrete below, coughing up nothing but bile. His stomach heaves. Everything is raw and exposed and open, and he doesn’t like this. He shouldn’t behave like this. He should be able to hold it in like he always does. But he doesn’t hold it in. Of course he doesn’t. That would take a level of discipline that he clearly doesn’t possess.

“It’s okay,” he hears. The voice is soft, kind.

Lucy’s hand is on his lower back, rubbing it in soothing circles.

He shakes his head. “’s not okay,” he mumbles, swiping at his messy chin with his hand. He hiccups, and more bile splatters on the ground below.

None of this is okay.

Tim screws his eyes shut when Lucy’s hand leaves his back.

He coughs and hunches in on himself. Maybe if he curls into the smallest, tightest ball imaginable, he can disappear. His heart hammers in his chest, skipping beats and double-timing. The rest of his body feels like it’s been stored away in a deep freezer for months on end. He tries to hide his face in his knees, but moving is a herculean effort. His limbs don’t feel like they belong to him anyway, so it’s pointless.

“Tim, hey,” he hears. The hand on his back returns and then moves to his shoulder and then to palm his forehead.

His instinct is to flinch away, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t.

“I’m gonna clean you up a little, and then we’re gonna get you home.”

Tim shakes his head. He doesn’t know why there are tears streaming down his cheeks. He can’t remember the last time he cried, but he’s sure it wasn’t because of something as dumb or idiotic as not feeling in control.

Lucy unclenches his hands for him. Cleans them with something cold and wet. Does the same thing to his chin and the front of his coat. Tim shivers. Coughs again. Blinks rapidly. He doesn’t – maybe can’t – fully understand all of what’s happening. Delirium settles in, nestling and burrowing. He just knows one second he’s on the ground and the next he’s sagging against Lucy’s side as she helps him into the shop. She wipes his cheeks with her thumb and buckles him in, safe and sound. Tim leans on the door, pressing his cheek to the cool window, hoping that it’s enough to ground him, to help him stay in reality, to let him get back to himself in one piece.

He closes his eyes and tries to breathe through it, but things – everything – just feels wrong.

Tim isn’t sure how or when it happens, but somehow he’s in his bed. His gray comforter is soft against his skin, pulled up over his chin. He tries to roll onto his back, but he can’t seem to muster the strength. Instead, he coughs wetly and attempts to place how he got here. He’s home, so it isn’t anything sinister, and he knows Lucy was with him the whole time. His former boot wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. It’s weird to acknowledge that, to understand that someone has his back, but he knows it’s the truth.

Something wet drips from his forehead and down his cheek.

Tim blinks. His arms feel like they’re glued to his side.

“Any better?” he hears.

Lucy comes into his line of vision, kneeling down in front of him. She replaces the wet thing on his forehead – a washcloth apparently – with an icepack. Tim bites his bottom lip and winces.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “But you’re gonna hate this even more.”

Lucy invades his cocoon, exposing him to the air outside. Tim lets out a groan that’s dangerously close to a cry and shrivels in on himself. Lucy places an icepack under each armpit, and this time tears swell in his eyes. The cold is immediate and fucking hurts. Like needles. He hates needles, but she’s right: he hates this even more.

“It’s just for a few minutes. Your fever is through the roof, and you need to cool down before you fry your brain,” Lucy says.

She pulls the comforter back over him. Tim wraps his arms around himself and coughs, body shaking harshly. He chews the inside of his cheek with chattering teeth. His dad would absolutely annihilate him for this… this…

“Tim,” Lucy whispers. She’s still kneeling down in front of him. “You’re okay. This is only temporary.

He gulps. “You sure?” His voice is weak.

Everything about him is weak.

“I’m sure. Just breathe. You’ll get through this.”

Tim nods. He looks at Lucy, whose brown eyes are shining with tears, yet also full of reassurance. She’s trying to make him feel better. He ignores the desperate ache for her to hold him close, to run her fingers through his hair, for her to whisper comforts in his ear.

He breathes. Closes his eyes. Lets sleep tug him under.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Trine [5]

Anselm Vogelweide X Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Part One • Trine Masterlist • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: When Anselm has to go to a meeting Blue gets bratty.

A/N: A MASSIVE, HUGE THANK YOU TO THE WONDERFUL @lonelyisamyw-0love FOR BETA READING AND SAVING ME FROM BAD SPELLING, TERRIBLE TYPOS, AND QUESTIONABLE GRAMMAR! Also huge thank you to the anon suggesting Blue called reader and Anselm, mommy and daddy. (I will be answering your ask in more detail in the future for sure!)

Warnings: reader is married to Anselm, Blue being a BRAT, then a whiney sub, begging, p in v sex, cream pies, oral (f receiving), grabbing by the neck (Blue receiving), Blue being quite rude actually, Blue calling the reader 'mommy', please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2362

________________________________

Anselm had gone out to an important meeting early, well before Blue had even opened his eyes. 

Your husband had kissed you goodbye, promising to return as soon as he could. 

When Blue found out that Anselm had gone without saying goodbye to him he was insufferable. Pouting and scowling, huffing and puffing as he ate breakfast. (Which was another cause for his distress. You’d already eaten. And despite how you’d kissed his cheek and told him you’d sit with him while he ate he still grumbled and glared. One breath away from throwing a toddler level tantrum.)

“I’m showering.” He had declared with a stroppy throw back of his head, his arms crossed. 

You had smiled despite your best efforts not to, thoroughly amused by his little display. 

Which only further upset him. 

You’d settled in the day room, reading with your legs up on the sofa. 

An hour or so since you’d last seen Blue he came marching into the room, a deep scowl on his face.

He was only wearing the thin silk dressing gown he had decided was his. His hair still wet from the shower. 

He stopped an arm's width away from you, his hands on his hips. 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye and slowly turned the page.

He huffed, sighing irritatedly at your lack of attention. 

You ignored him and suppressed your grin. 

“What are you reading?” He demanded, speaking before you even had a chance to respond. “And why is it more important than me?” 

You hide your face behind the book to stop your laughter from being completely obvious. 

Blue breathes in deeply, scowling. “This isn’t funny!”

You can’t help yourself. “Isn’t it?” You put your bookmark in and close your novel, placing it gently on the floor. 

“No.” He pouts. “It’s not, despite how amusing you’re finding it.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Quite the display you’re providing me with.” 

His frown deepens and you can’t help but think he shouldn’t look cuter while he’s trying so hard to be menacing. 

“I want to fuck you.” He says with all the arrogance of a spoilt prince. 

You stare back at him. 

“I said,” he steps closer, going to grab your ankles. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” you tut and move your legs away. 

He gives you the dirtiest look you have ever seen. “Wh-”

“If you’re so desperate to get off,” you nod towards his obvious erection and move so that you’re sitting upright. “You can get on your knees and hump my leg while I read.” 

His face reddens in anger. “I am not a fucking dog that you can just order around,” he leans closer to you, trying to intimidate you  by caging you in, “that you think you can-”

You grab his neck firmly and he yelps, his right hand going to grab your wrist as his eyes widen in surprise. 

Your goodwill with his bratty behaviour comes to a very sudden end. You sit up straighter, forcing him to his knees and squeeze ever so slightly. 

Blue gasps, whining, his pupils dilating. 

“You think because Anselm’s not here you can behave like this?” Your voice comes out in a hiss, the closest to anger he’s ever heard. 

Blue tries to shake his head but your grip hampers his movement. 

“You think I’ll just roll over and let you be so disrespectful?” 

His eyes widen as you squeeze. His words come out in a whimper. “I’m sorry.”

“What was that?” 

He swallows, his throat bobbing under your hand. “I’m sorry.” He says clearer. 

You nod, but don’t loosen your grip. “And?” 

His cock twitches at your firm tone. “I won’t… won’t do it again… I’m sorry.” 

“You better not.” You snarl and push him back away from you. The action isn’t hard, or intended to cause any real pain. But he stumbles back anyway, reaching out behind himself to stop from toppling from his knees. 

You pick up your book and open it, your jaw clenched. 

Blue bites his lip, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as his heart hammers in his chest threatening to break his ribs in two. 

He hadn’t meant for this to happen. Hadn’t meant to anger you. To make you truly upset. He’d just… wanted his own way. 

Nervously, he tugs at his short hair, shoulders slumped, mind speeding. His thoughts going so quickly he couldn’t even keep hold of them. 

He risks a little glance up to you.  You’re back to reading, seemingly ignoring him again. 

Hesitantly he shuffles forward on his knees, inching closer until you can feel his warm breath on your bare shin. 

He reaches out, lightly placing his hand on your knee with trembling fingers. 

You don’t react. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, his voice trembling ever so slightly. “Really sorry, I…” He swallows pitifully and shuffles closer. He presses his face against your leg, rubs his cheek against your skin as he kisses you lightly. “Please,” there’s a little hitch in his breath as he tries to not let his emotions completely overwhelm him. Tries not to drown in them.

He doesn’t know what’s happened, what’s wrong with him. He used to just take whatever and fuck whoever and now… now he’s here practically sobbing on his knees for your attention. And he’s never felt so aroused in his life. 

“Please,” he drags his lips up higher to your thigh when you don’t stop him, kissing and licking at your soft skin. “Please,” he groans, he just can’t help it, as he slowly presses your legs apart and you yield. 

“Please,” his eyelids flutter as he moves the skirt of your dress up and sees you’re bare underneath. Heat sizzles along his spine and he moans wantonly, gazing at your pretty cunt. 

He glances up at you, rubbing his thighs together and bowing his back ever so slightly to get some relief on his aching cock. 

You’ve put the book to the side and your expression has softened somewhat. But still not enough to reassure him he is back in your good graces.

He licks his bottom lip nervously, “please?” 

You cock your head to the side and watch him for a moment. “You think you deserve it? After how you behaved?” 

He closes his eyes and hangs his head, “no.” His voice is soft and submissive, just on the edge of breaking. 

Gently you take his chin in your hand and raise his head up. He gazes at you, blinking heavily with shiny and confused eyes, but moves with you when you guide him forward between your legs. 

His breathing hitches, excitement pooling in his belly as he moves ahead of your touch, pushing your skirt up completely around your hips and licking a long, slow line through your folds. 

You bite your lips together to stop the moans from escaping your throat, but you needn’t have worried, Blue’s own groan is loud and drawn out. Vibrating through you as his tongue circles your clit.

He sucks it into his mouth, whimpering and whining and inching as close as he can, burying himself between your legs. He rubs the length of his cock weakly against the edge of the sofa as he spreads you wider, sinks his wicked tongue in deeper before he drags it upwards in a tortuous slow lick. Lapping at you like you were his only source of oxygen, drinking down your slick like it was ambrosia. 

He moans with every movement, eyes closed in bliss as he presses his hands into the soft flesh of your inner thighs, practically bending you in half against the back of the sofa as his tongue seeks out every single part of you. 

You hang onto the back of the settee for dear life, unable to stop the gasped breaths from leaving you now as he rocks and licks, sucks and whines. Your wetness mixes with his salvia, smearing over your folds and his cheeks as he makes a mess of you. 

It’s so warm, and wet, and oh god when he looks up at you, eyes lidded and pussy drunk you think you’ve died and gone to heaven. 

You groan his name, pressure coiling so tightly in your belly as you buck against him. You barely get a seconds warning before a final swipe of his tongue has you coming hard. 

You cry out as pleasure flows through you, tensing your muscles and turning your bones to jelly. 

Blue whines as your release hits his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he keeps moving, trying to prolong your pleasure as long as he can. 

As your shakes still he slowly moves back, his face shining and wet. You breathe deeply, spaced out for a second from how hard you’ve come. 

Blue gets up to kneel on the very edge of the sofa in between your thighs. You don’t quite register what he’s doing at first until he presses the back of your thighs once more, folding you up on yourself slightly and noches his leaking, red tip at your entrance. 

“Blue-” your question becomes a deep moan as he just sinks into you, stretching you so wide and filling you so perfectly. 

He bites his bottom lip hard, his eyes still hazy and spaced out. He gasps, as he moves, plunging deeper. “Don’t worry, I’m not,” he groans, “I won’t cum, I don’t deserve to cum,” he bottoms out and breathes deeply, composing himself for a moment. 

Your walls pulse around him and he sobs at how good the sensation feels. He swallows and pulls out half way before sinking back in, starting a deep and tortuous pace that has your spine bowing. 

“I want you to cum though,” he babbles, keeping his thrusts even and deep, watching your face as you moan and clench around him. “Want you to feel so good, want to show you how sorry I am,” his voice raises at the last word as you buck and he seemingly slips deeper. “Want you to cum all over me, I’m just your toy, just your toy to fuck and feel good mommy,” he moans loudly, his hips starting to move on autopilot as your heat squeezes him and pulls him closer. 

He bites his lip, a flush on his face and neck the second he realises what he said. “I, I-”

“It’s okay Blue,” you moan, hardly able to string three words together without moaning as he strokes your walls, repeatedly hitting perfectly inside with every thrust. He rocks his hips upwards every time he sheathes himself inside, rolling his pubic bone against your clit in a long drawn out stroke that drives you to the point of insanity. 

You didn’t think you’d be able to come again so quickly, but your orgasm is hurtling towards you at lighting speed. Your thighs shaking with every thrust and every moan from his lips. 

You groan, “You’re gonna,” another long gasp leaves you as his hips snap against yours, “gonna make me cum again Blue.” 

He whines, his own muscles shaking from the exertion of the angle and from trying to fight off his own orgasm. 

“Noone’s ever made me cum so fast from-,” you moan, your eyes screwing shut. 

Blue’s own whine joins yours, harmonises with the sound as he leans closer, places one foot on the floor for better leverage. 

You scream. The angle change shatters you into pieces, liquid pleasure flowing out and filling your veins as you shake and pulse around him. 

Blue gasps, keeps moving as best he can as he groans and watches you come apart completely on his cock. 

He swallows, mouth dry as you finally relax, breathing hard. He wants to cry, he wanted to see you cum for longer, see that pleasure on your face for hours and hours. He bites the inside of his mouth, about to move back and out of you when you wrap your left leg over his hip, halting his movements. 

He looks at you quizzically, “I?”

“Cum in me Blue.” Your voice is tired and fucked out, but firm. 

“I don’t deserve-”

“Are you questioning me?” 

He shakes his head rapidly, wide eyed. 

“Good.” You buck up against him. “Then cum for mommy.” 

He moans. His hips rutting against you of their own accord twice before he empties himself in you with a cry. Tears flowing down his cheeks as he practically cums on your command. 

His arms give out on him as his orgasm rockets through his body and you hold him in your arms, cradling the back of his head as he shivers and shakes. 

“Mommy, mommy, thank you,” he whines, sobbing and blabbering. “Thank you.” 

You kiss his temple as he calms, as his breathing evens out. “Feel better?” 

He nods against your neck. 

“You’re not going to act like a brat like that again for me, are you?” 

He shakes his head quickly. 

“Or I won’t be happy.” You stress the last word and he looks up at you quickly with his large shiny eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, I won’t do it again. I promise.” 

You nod once.

“I…” he swallows. “I was… upset…”

You raise an eyebrow at him to continue. 

“I thought… I thought you, me and Anselm were going to be together the whole day and I…”

“You had a tantrum because he had a meeting.”

Blue nods again embarrassed. 

You breathe in deeply, “maybe Anselm is right, maybe I do spoil you.” 

He shakes his head quickly, panic greying his face. “No, no, no, you don’t, please, I promise I’ll never do it again, I-I,” he breathes in rapidly, “I’ll never make you sad again, mommy.” He bites his lip again, embarrassed that that word slipped out again, but you stroke his cheek and kiss him lightly. 

“Alright.” You kiss him again, deeper this time and he moans as he melts into your embrace. “It’s okay.” 

He nods. “Sorry.” 

“I forgive you.” You kiss his temple and hold him tight as he snuggles against you. 

“But I’m gonna have to tell Anselm about this when he gets home.” 

____________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt

@novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[tightjeansjavi]

Slow Hands | Chapter 5

“be still, my foolish heart”

A/N: so originally I was going to write more for this chapter, but like @morning-star-joy says, sometimes a story tells you how it should be written so I’ve decided to end the chapter where I feel it felt most natural. The slow burn is still slow-burning but there’s definitely some development happening! 🤎🤎

~word count: 6.0k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: you meet Joel’s horse, Tex while Joel opens up to you about his past further. Your connection begins to develop as you grow more comfortable with one another

Warnings: angst, anxiety, trauma, mentions of death, stress induced thoughts and feelings, fluff, awkward flirting, internal thoughts/dialogue, slow burn, mental health, remorse, forgiveness, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, in his feelings! Joel, readers nickname is beanie (coffee beans) ends on a bit of a cliff hanger, no age gap, +18 minors dni! Let me know if I missed any warnings please!

main masterlist series masterlist playlist

Joel Miller was fast asleep on your couch. In your home. He felt comfortable enough to doze off at your kitchen table. Well, of course he was exhausted. He was out at the late hours of the night patrolling with Tommy, and then he spent the early morning hours with you on your rooftop.

Nonetheless, he was asleep on your couch.

You couldn’t help but feel giddy like a little school girl that was developing her first crush at recess. Joel was handsome, ruggedly handsome and there was no denying it. He reminded you of a pearl. Something so beautiful, yet hard to obtain as a pearl is always guarded by the outer shell of an oyster. You couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of you as you stepped outside of your home. The air was still brisk and there was a fresh layer of frost coating the ground. Spring was on the horizon with the sound of chirping chickadee's that gossiped in the treetops above. New life was beginning to sprout and blossom through the frost. Soon Jackson would flourish in green.

You triple checked your front door lock as a forced habit. When you felt relieved that the door was in fact locked, you quietly walked down the wooden steps that were far sturdier now as Joel insisted on replacing some of the rotted planks.

As you started the short walking distance to the stables, you remembered Joel telling you that he would often count his steps as a grounding system. In turn, you found yourself doing the same. There was some innately comforting being around the horses. The barn smell didn’t bother you, in fact you relished in it. From the sweet smelling grain, the earthy scent of Alfalfa, and the horses natural aroma. All of these scents permeated your senses in an indescribable warmth. There was no sign of Ellie or Dina when you stepped into the stables and you were greeted with soft nickers, and curious expressions before the horses returned to their breakfast.

Tommy’s horse, Timber, was a leopard spotted appaloosa that truly had the goofiest human-like personality. Sometimes you wondered if there was actually a human trapped inside of his four-legged body just from the way he would look at you. You stopped in front of his stall and reached into your coat pocket to pull out a handful of sugar cubes that laid flat in your palm.

“Hey, pal.” You softly cooed as Timber lifted his head from his grain pan. “Did you see anything exciting last night? Any stories for me?”

Timber snorted softly as his velvet soft muzzle rested in your palm. He wasted no time to gently snatch up each of the sugar cubes before he was nuzzling your pocket for more.

“Wow, five racoons? How exciting.” You giggled as you playfully and gently nudged his muzzle away. “Were you scared?”

Another snort and a hoof pawing at the ground. “Oh, alright. Just one more, okay?” You snuck him one last sugar cube followed by a gentle pat on his neck before you strode away from his stall. Your mare, Tess, was a flea bitten gray QH. Shortly after outbreak day, you found her wandering through your abandoned neighborhood and you were drawn together like moth to flame. She was your special girl, your beacon of light through the darkness. Her darker counterpart, Tex, was always at her side. He was always at her side, brooding like a shadow but he had the most gentle brown eyes despite his rugged demeanor. Tex was a jet black mustang, and unbeknownst to you, he was Joel’s horse.

You stopped outside of Tess’s stall first and your mare already had her neck outstretched over the stall door to greet you. She nickered softly as you gently wrapped your arms around her fury neck in a tender hug. “Good morning my special girl.” Your tone was so soft-spoken, sweet like the sugar cubes that laid in your coat pocket. Sometimes you felt a bitter-sweet melancholy thinking about how much time you had spent with this mare and the trials and tribulations you went through together. Maybe one day when your mind and heart were calm, you’d be able to go outside beyond Jackson’s towering walls on her back once more.

You wiped your brewing tears along the sleeve of your hoodie as you fed Tess a few sugar cubes. Your fingers gently twirled the soft tendrils of her forelock between your fingers as your forehead came to gently rest upon her own.

You were torn from your present mourning thoughts by the sound of Tex’s hoof pawing at the ground. His ears were attentively flicked forward in your direction.

“Do you want some sugar cubes too?” You softly asked the jet-black mustang as he pawed at the ground once more.

Your forehead slowly dropped from Tess’s as you reached into your pocket once more and pulled out a helping of sugarcubes. Despite Tex’s brooding nature, he was incredibly gentle as he ate the sweets from your tender palm. His velvety soft muzzle and wispy whiskers tickled your skin. His eyes held so much warmth, so much kindness, and you swore this horse was staring into your very soul.

Joel had awoken shortly after you had departed for the stables. He vaguely remembered the handwritten note nestled in the worn fibers of his flannel pocket. He slowly swung his legs over the side of the couch with a heavy grunt. His hand reached for the mug of coffee that he downed in one gulp as the muscles in his back strained tightly. He let out a grumbled sigh as he carefully folded the quilted you had laid upon him. He grabbed both the empty mug and plate and brought them back into the kitchen. He’d be damned if he wasn’t a respectful house guest. He couldn’t help but feel that warm tingle in his heart creeping through the morning chill as he stepped outside. How sweet you were to leave him a treat and a note.

He headed off in the direction of the stables and the sight he saw warmed his heart even further as he observed Tex gently nibbling on the lapels of your coat as you were braiding individual sections of his charcoal black mane. Joel and his horse counterpart were very similar in the sense that they had a protective brooding nature. Hardened exterior yet soft in the middle. Weathered and mysterious, yet docile and gentle.

“Y’know darlin, if y’keep feedin’ me’n Tex sweets like this, you’re gonna fatten us up.” Joel softly chuckled as he stepped further into the barn. He hoped that he had not frightened you, or ruined the moment you were sharing with his horse entirely.

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as Joel leaned up against the side of Tex’s stall with one of his broad arms leaning against the side of the wooden stall door. His expression was playful in nature as your eyes finally met his softened gaze.

“Tex is yours I presume?”

“Mhm. He’s got an apparent sweet tooth jus’ like me as well. Think he’s taken a particular likin’ to ya Beanie.” He murmured silkily.

“I have to admit..you do look alike. Tess has taken a liking to him as well.” You responded with a smile tugging along your lips as you finished braiding the last section of his once unruly mane.

“How so? You’ve got me intrigued now darlin.’” He paused momentarily as his eyes flitted over at your mare. “Tess is yours? I had..no idea.”

“Your eyes. They’re the same as his..that same deep shade of brown..like cinnamon. Tess is mine, yes. I found her after the outbreak day, after the government bombed the major cities. She was wandering through my abandoned neighborhood and were just drawn to each other.”

Tex and Tess.

Joel could feel a newfound sense of emotions wash over him as he cleared his throat against the sleeve of his coat. “Well, she’s..a real sweetheart. I can see why Tex likes spendin’ time with her. What about my eyes now? They’re like cinnamon? Wish I could see the world from your eyes darlin,’ cause to me? My eyes are just brown. Like the dirt. Ain’t nothin’ special to ‘em.” He rolled his shoulders into a half shrug.

“She is a sweetheart. She’s my special girl. Joel, brown eyes are beautiful. Have you ever seen them in the sunlight? They melt into golden rays, like sticky warm caramel. There’s nothing boring about brown eyes. They’re extraordinary.” You murmured as your eyes casted downwards to where Tex was still gently nuzzling his face into the warmth of your coat.

Unbeknownst to either you or Joel, Dina and Ellie were up in the hay rafters laying on their stomachs as they eavesdropped.

“Why don’t you ever talk about my eyes like that El?” Dina softly teased as she lightly poked Ellie’s shoulder.

“Because I'm not a poet, Dee.” Ellie whispered back with a smile tugging on her lips.

“Well, Beanie sure is. I don’t think I've ever seen Joel blush like that before. He’s as red as a tomato.” Dina whispered as her and Ellie quietly peeked over the rafters to get a better look.

“That’s cus’ Joel likes her. Isn’t it obvious? He’s always spendin’ time with her. I can’t blame him honestly because she's like really really pretty.” Ellie murmured as she rubbed her hands together to keep them warm. “Not as pretty as you of course.” She quickly added feeling heat rise to her cheeks. Dina and Ellie were just friends but lately there was something else there that was beginning to simmer between them. The last time Ellie felt for someone in a romantic sense was Riley..and now? Well, only time would tell what laid ahead for the two teenagers.

Joel was unable to find the words that he could respond with to your generous compliment. His brain felt like it was re-wiring as if the circuit had been cut through. He didn’t want to leave you hanging like a stray leaf on a dead branch that was holding on for dear life as a ferocious wind tried to tear it from the stem. He blinked, cleared his throat as his thumb swiped across the tip of his aquiline nose. “So, I take it that you like my eyes then?” He mused with a slight arch of his brow as both of his broad arms came to cross against his chest.

“Yeah, I suppose you could frame it that way.” You responded a bit sheepishly as you peered up at him through soft lashes.

“Well, that was a mighty fine compliment t’give me. I never thought of brown eyes in that mindset. Maybe I outta start tryin’ to see the world through your eyes, huh? Anyway, I didn’t get much’of a chance to give Tex a proper groomin’ after patrol..you wanna help me out?”

“If you’re looking to live life with your head up in the clouds like me, then I recommend you adapt to my mindset. See the small beauties that what’s left of the world has to offer. Like the changing of seasons for example. Winter is so cold, so dark, yet it is beautiful. The way that the snow hugs the branches on the trees and the jaw dropping sunsets that paint the sky.” You trailed off before responding to his question, “Sure, I'd love to help you out.”

Joel was in awe to say the least. For someone who had been through so many unspeakable horrors, you truly did see life in all of its beauty. He could listen to you shamelessly for hours if you’d let him. He pushed himself off of the side of Tex’s stall as he maneuvered around you to bend down and pick up the grooming box. “I never really was all that a fan of winter. Holds a lot of bad memories f’me. I do see what you mean about the beauty in it. I love fall the most. When the colors in the sky begin to change and the leaves transform into all of these brilliant shades of orange, yellows, and reds. It was always Sarah's favorite time of the year as well. She’d drag my ass to the nearest pumpkin patch as soon as the first leaves began to fall.”

“I’m sorry that winter holds bad memories for you..but i’m a firm believer that everything heals with time. I think out of all the seasons fall is probably my favorite as well. Was Sarah a big fan of Halloween? She seems like the kinda kid that would go crazy over getting to dress up.” You wanted to nurture this conversation that Joel was openly having with you. You could only imagine the emotional toll it brought upon him when talking about Sarah.

“Oh, she absolutely loved Halloween. She’d have her costume pretty much planned out months in advance. We watched all of the movies together as well. Beetlejuice was her favorite. What can I say? My kid has some damn good taste.” He chuckled softly as he quietly unlatched Tex’s stall. “I’d take her trick-or-treating and then when we’d get home I'd help her sort through all of her candy and make her pay the ‘dad tax.’” His eyes crinkled in the corners when his mind encapsulated an image of a ten year old Sarah in her Lydia Deetz costume. “Daaad. You can’t eat all of my candy! You have to save some for me!” “Yeah, yeah dontcha worry, kiddo. I ain’t gonna eat it all, but you gotta pay the dad tax, baby girl. That’s the rules.”

Joel had just slipped Tex’s halter over his ears when he felt your hand gently grasp his bicep through the material of his warm jacket. He had zoned out after recalling the memory and you were just trying to bring him back down to earth. “Joel?..” You attentively asked as he looked over his shoulder at you. “Sorry darlin.’ Didn’t mean to zone out like that. Jus’ y’know get a little emotional thinkin’ about her is’all.” He murmured.

“Hey, it's okay. Sounds like you have a lot of wonderful memories of her, Joel. I have to ask..what the hell is the ‘dad tax?’”

Joel felt a warm chuckle creep up his throat as he latched the metal clip around Tex’s halter. “Oh, the dad tax? S’jus’ a silly thing I came up with after she made me carry all of her candy bags for hours. Felt like it was only fair if I got a few pieces of her loot.” He responded with a casual shrug as he let Tex out of his stall so it would be easier to brush him down.

“Oh, I agree. That sounds perfectly fair. Man, I'd absolutely kill to have a Reese's peanut butter cup or a kit-kat. Did you end up being persuaded to dress up with her as well?” You picked up the curry comb from the grooming box before gently rubbing soothing circles into Tex’s furry coat to lift up any dirt or debris.

“Fuck.” He nearly groaned. “Reese’s were my favorite. I used to stick a few of them in the freezer and eat them after they got nice and chilled. It was like my guilty pleasure midnight snack. Oh, yeah I dressed up with her alright. Used to go all out with my costume as well. Whatever was gonna make her happy, y’know?”

“Oh my gosh, I used to do the same thing too! I’d stick an entire roll of them in the freezer. That was really the only way to eat them.” You softly giggled as Tex let out an appreciative grunt when you had found an itchy spot near his withers. “Was there a favorite character that you dressed up as?”

Joel pondered for a moment as he flipped through the memories in his mind of all the Halloween costumes he had dressed up in with Sarah. “Damn, that’s a good question darlin.’ There was one year we dressed up as Iron Man and the Hulk. Sarah insisted on being the Hulk of course. We did Sherlock Holmes and Watson for one year as well.”

“Wow, I would have definitely given y’all all of my candy if you trick-or-treated on my block. All the neighborhood kids had some lame costumes I swear. The best one I ever saw was a trio of girls dressed up as the Sanderson Sisters. I nearly gave them my whole goddamn bowl of candy.”

“Woah. The Sanderson Sisters? Those chicks are wicked.” He chuckled warmly. “Although, Binx was my favorite character out of the entire movie.”

“Oh, I loved Binx too. Dani was my personal favorite. She was such a cool kid.” You peeked over the top of Tex’s withers as you finished currying the dirt from his coat. You felt the heat rise to the highest point of your cheeks when you found that Joel was already looking at you. He looked away quickly of course and cleared his throat.

A comfortable silence washed over the two of you as you got into a groove with brushing down Tex.

Joel broke the silence a few minutes later after he had finished picking out clumps of dirt and rocks from Tex’s hooves. “So, now that the weather is changin’ and Spring is gonna be here soon..I won’t be on patrol during the late night shift. So uh–we can..spend some more time together if you’d like? M’sorry that I've been absent for a while. Maria told me that you were wonderin’ about me.”

You paused your present actions with a soft sigh as you dropped the brush into the grooming box with a soft thud. “Sometimes I struggle with having a rational thought. I–assumed that maybe you were blowing me off or something. Or that maybe you didn’t want to be my friend. It was so fucking silly for me to think that way, but my brain is a warzone a lot of time. It plays tricks on me..Maria told me that she assigned you, Tommy, and a few other men on the late night patrol because..you found something disturbing in the woods?..”

Joel could feel his jaw clench inwards as his fist tightened around the brush that he was holding. Images of those charred women sprung into his mind as he shook his head tightly. “Darlin,’ i’m sorry that it seemed like I was blowin’ you off. I would never do that to ya. I don’t think it is silly for you to think that way. My brain does shit like that too. S’okay that you were feelin’ that way. I jus’ genuinely felt bad, but it was out of my control y’know?” His head drooped slightly as he let out a slightly agitated sigh. It wasn’t directed at you, it was just his present frustrations. He and Tommy had lost track of the raiders and where they were headed. He felt like he had failed you, and the town.

“Joel, Maria wouldn’t tell me what you and Tommy found in the woods that night. Can you please tell me? I know it was out of your control, and when Maria told me the reason why I genuinely felt terrible. I can only imagine how exhausting these past couple of months have been for you.”

The energy seemed to take a drastic dip as Joel met your gaze once more. His jaw unclenched from the tight position it was currently held in. He wanted to tell you what he saw. He really did, but he promised both Tommy and Maria that he would not disclose the details to you. His lips parted as a sigh slipped past. He looked defeated as his shoulders slumped inwards. “Beanie, I'm sorry but I can’t tell you what we found.” He uttered softly.

“Joel, why can’t you tell me? I know I shouldn’t pry, but Maria told me that it was concerning and that–”

He cut you off with a gruff response as he raked his fingers through his salt and pepper dusted hair. “Beanie, I can’t tell you. Please don’t ask me again.” He nearly pleaded as his eyes bore deeply into yours.

“Okay.” You meekly responded. “I–won’t ask again. I’m sorry.” You sounded just as defeated as he did.

Fuck.

This is where Joel struggled the most in conversations. When every fiber in his being could sense the mood shifting and churning, he didn’t know how to bring it back to a calm place. This was usually the moment where he would snap and say the wrong thing. He could feel the word vomit pulsating on his tongue like bile. He didn’t want to keep secrets from you. Not when your friendship was just starting to bud like new sprouts through the permeating frost.

“I’m sorry too. I don’t want to keep secrets from ya darlin.’ I jus’ hope you can understand.”

Please. Please understand.

“Joel, it’s okay. I understand, and I'm not going to hold this against you or anything I promise.” You responded reassuringly.

He let out a visible sigh of relief as he dropped his hand from tugging at the roots of his hair to his side. “Okay, good.” He softly rasped.

After you finished brushing down Tex, Joel led him back into his stall before latching the door shut. “I take it you never found Ellie or Dina? Maybe they’re at breakfast already.” He set Tex’s halter back on the hook alongside his stall before he shoved his hands deep within the pockets of his worn out faded jeans.

“I didn’t see them when I came in. Maybe they are at breakfast like you said? Regardless, I appreciate you suggesting last night that I go and spend some time with the horses.”

“Of course darlin.’ I jus’ know what it’s like to struggle n’feel like you ain’t have no one there to support ya. Horses are good listeners. Better listeners than I am.”

“I disagree. You are a good listener, Joel. You didn’t make me or my feelings feel small or insignificant last night. You’re a good friend.” You meant every word as a small smile tugged on the corner of his lips.

“Well, thank you. Guess I can do somethin’ right huh?” He chuckled softly.

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, okay?”

“I won’t darlin.’” He seems the least bit convincing as his eyes are averting from making contact with you. You’d accept his response, for now.

After leaving the stables, Joel accompanied you to your shop. He could have gone home, but after not seeing you for quite some time, he felt like he could sacrifice his sleep a little longer. So while you were whipping up two lattes, he was rearranging your back storage area so that there was no chance that a sack of sugar would potentially fall on your unsuspecting head.

“Hey, Beanie?” His voice sounded slightly strained from the heavy lifting he was doing.

“Yeah, Joel? Everything alright back there?”

“Peachy.” He grunted softly as he set the sack of sugar down. “Got a question for ya.”

“Shoot.”

“Your horse, Tess. Did ya name her yourself or did she have that name previously.” He was curious. It was evident in his tone as he wiped a bit of sweat that had beaded upon his brow.

“I named her myself. Why do you ask?”

“Jus’ wonderin.’ I uh–had a partner named Tess. Tommy and I met her after outbreak day. The three of us became a ruthless team. Anyway, we were together for as long as I can remember. We relied on each other heavily. ‘Specially after Tommy up n’left me for the fireflies. She was my partner n’crime. The brains of our operation and I probably wouldn’t have survived very long if it wasn’t for her. Your horse..just reminded me of her s’all.” He missed Tess. He missed her more than he liked to admit and even though time had passed since her death, he still wished that she lived. He imagined that she would have found ultimate peace in Jackson. She deserved that and more than what Joel thought he could offer her.

His voice was less strained and sounded closer in proximity as you turned and faced him with a mug outstretched towards him. “Did..she die?” You softly asked.

He somberly nodded as he gently grasped the mug in his hand. The steam slowly rose from the top and kissed his skin as he leaned back against the counter. “She went out a goddamn hero though. Saved me and Ellie from a hoard of infected. Sacrificed herself so that we would live. She was g’nna die anyway. Got bit. Still feel like sometimes I failed her. Coulda done more to keep her safe. She deserved fuckin’ better.” He bitterly sighed with a shake of his head.

“Hey, I'm sure Tess wouldn’t want you to be feeling like this Joel. She doesn’t think that you failed her. She doesn’t think that at all. She’d want you to forgive yourself Joel.” You reached over and gently touched his bicep as he choked back a strained laugh.

“Yeah? Maybe. Jus’ never was able to give her what she truly wanted.”

“What couldn’t you give her, Joel?” You softly prompted him.

“My heart.” He uttered just above a whisper as his gaze slowly fell upon your face. You could see the glassy look in his irises as his lower lip ever-so slightly wobbled under the soft glow of the fairy lights dangling above.

You could feel your heart straining against the figurative strings in your chest cavity as you looked upon his sunken features. “Joel, it’s not too late to tell her how you feel.” You murmured.

“What?” He looked puzzled as his brows furrowed. He let out a soft sniffle as he dragged the tip of his thumb across his nose. “How can I do that?”

“Write to her. Write her a letter straight from your heart Joel.”

“How’s that supposed t’work? She ain’t ever gonna see it.”

“You just have to believe that she will see it. If you write down how you feel, and all the things that you wish that you could have told her, you’ll be letting that part of yourself go. That part where you feel like you’re to blame for her death. Pen and paper. Write it all down.” You softly encouraged him.

“Will you read it..after I write it?” His tone was timid, unlike his natural gruff nature as he picked at the skin around his cuticles out of a nervous habit.

“If you’d like me to read it then I will.”

“Pinky promise?” He softly requested.

You were already offering him your pinky as he slowly wrapped his thicker weathered finger around your own and gently squeezed.

“Pinky promise, Joel.”

Spring was in full bloom now as the earth turned green and sprouted new flowers and life in every corner. Joel was only having to patrol in the early mornings with Tommy. The sun was warm on his skin as he was hunched over in the tall grasses with a leather notebook and pen resting in his lap. Both Tex and Timber were peacefully grazing a short distance away as Tommy was cleaning his rifle. He glanced over at his brother with a curious expression on his face as he watched him scribble something on one of the blank pages.

“Whatcha writin’ in there big brother?” He asked with piqued interest.

“A letter.” Joel murmured.

“To who?”

Joel let out a sigh as he closed the notebook on the pen before looking over at his younger brother.

“Tess.”

Tommy had an unreadable expression on his face as he tightly nodded. For a moment Joel thought his brother had nothing else to say until a hand reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder.

“Say hi to her for me. Will ya? Miss the hell outta her.” Tommy mumbled softly.

“Me too. I miss her a lot. I just hope she’s with her husband and son. Hope they’re all together.” Joel responded mournfully as he opened the notebook once more.

Tommy felt a tear slowly roll down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

Godspeed Tess.

Joel found himself getting lost in his present thoughts and emotions as he poured his heart out onto the parchment. His words bled like the ink from his pen that was clutched tight in his fist. His knuckles transformed to a stark white shade.

Hey, Tess. It’s Joel. I’ve never fuckin’ written a letter in my goddamn life, so I apologize if this is absolute horse shit. I’ll salvage what I can. It’s the least I can do for you Tess. Anyway, lately i’ve found myself doin’ a lot of reflectin.’ Can ya believe that? Me? Joel hardass Miller expressing his emotions? Ellie and I made it to the fireflies. I’m sure by now you know what happened so i’ll spare the details. Do you remember when you told me to save who I could save? Well, I did. I saved her. I’d do it all over again if I had to. Man, I used to think of that kid as cargo. Now, I think of her as if she was my own daughter. They were gonna kill her, and I couldn’t let that happen so I did what I had to do. Ain’t proud of it, but she’s alive and that's all that matters to me even though she hates me. I couldn’t live without her. The truth is, I wish you were here. You’d love Jackson. This community has it all figured out. We coulda lived a life at peace together, you and me. You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I could never give that to you. You never asked anythin’ of me. Never begged me to feel for you back, but fuck, I loved you. I loved you Tess. I think you knew. It was unspoken between us, but it was there. I should have told you when I had the chance. Well, I'm tellin’ ya now. I know one day I'll get to thank you for savin’ Ellie and I. You went out a fuckin’ hero. You’re the reason why I'm alive. I know I need to forgive myself for your death. I know I can’t go on livin’ and blamin’ myself. It’s hard. It’s so fuckin’ hard, but i’m going to try. I hope that you are at peace. Y’know I ain’t believe in there bein’ a Heaven, but I hope that’s where you’re at. I hope your husband and son are there with you. I hope you get to hug them tight. Sarah too. Bill and Frank. I hope you’re all together now. If you see my baby girl, can you please tell her that daddy loves her? Keep her safe. Hold her close f’me.

I’ll see ya again one day. Till then, I'll do better. I promise.

- Your Texas

Joel let a few tear drops drip along the paper before he wiped them away. He felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders as he was releasing the burden that weighed him down. It lifted from his being, floating like a cloud in the sky as it dissipated to dust. Tess never blamed him for her death. She never held it against him. She only wished that she had more time with him in this cruel unforgiving world.

When Joel returned from patrol in the late afternoon, he found himself in your shop. The door was propped open with a heavy ceramic pot as a warm spring breeze drifted past his covered shoulder blades. Your shop was peacefully quiet sans the record player crackling to the tune of Queen. The song playing was ‘You’re My Best Friend’

How sweetly fitting.

He could hear your soft humming through his good ear as he walked around the counter. “Beanie? Y’back here darlin?’” His voice traveled like the breeze as you looked up from the mug you were currently painting. Normally you’d paint in your shed at home, but today you decided to kill some time and paint at the shop.

“I’m back here Joel.” You softly responded as your paint brush delicately dragged across the ceramic.

The first thing you noticed was Joel’s bare arms in your peripheral and the way his hair had one stray curl that dangled over his forehead in a soft swoop. His cinnamon brown eyes landed in a soft gaze across your face as he leaned his arm up against the wall. You liked to call this stance the ‘Joel lean.’ Although, this information was kept private.

“What’re you paintin’ today?” He asked intriguingly.

“Vines and tiny little flowers.” You held the mug up in his direction so he could observe what you had completed so far.

“Beautiful.” He rasped. “Listen, you got any plans this evenin?’” He was fidgeting with his fingers now as he awaited your response.

You gently set the mug down on the little drying table before wiping your hands on your paint stained apron. “I was going to head home in an hour or so to make dinner and then settle in with a good book probably. Why do you ask?”

“Come with me to the Tipsy Bison.” He blurted out suddenly, catching you off guard.

“I’ve never been.” You murmured sheepishly.

“S’okay. You ain’t even have to drink. Jus’ would love to share your company. There’s music n’dancin.’ There’s no pressure or nothin’ but it would be fun.”

Was..Joel Miller asking you out on a date right now? An unofficial-official date?

Am I askin’ her out on a date right now?

Yes, you are.

No. I ain’t.

You are.

“Won’t I stick out like a sore thumb if I'm not drinking?” Truthfully you were looking for a way out of this. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go spend time with Joel. You were just intimidated by the thought of having to socialize with other community members of Jackson. You could already feel your anxious thoughts creep up and stain your mind with self-doubt.

“Darlin.’ everyone there is g’nna be too drunk to care. If anyone has somethin’ to say, they can say it to me. Again, no pressure. I don’t wanna stress ya out or anythin.’”

Be still, my foolish heart.

You chewed down on the inside of your cheek, gnawing on the soft flesh as you could taste copper beading along your tongue. How bad could it really be? Besides, Joel wouldn’t let anyone fuck with you. Maybe he would even share a dance with you?

Be still, my foolish heart.

“Okay.” You finally responded. “I’ll come with you, on one condition.”

“Name your price darlin.’” He was holding back his grin that was threatening to spread across his lips.

“You have to dance with me at least once.” You requested.

“Deal.” He didn’t even falter on his response as he outstretched his hand towards you to grasp. “We’ll dance the night away.” He shot you a subtle wink.

His hand was warm in your grasp as he gently eased you up from the chair you were sitting in. You could feel the rough ridges from years of scarring, but despite this, his hands were beautiful. The ridges reminded you of mountain peaks that would nearly touch the clouds. His scars were littered about like constellations in the night sky. Some were deeper than others and you could only imagine how many times the skin on his knuckles had been split open. How many times they bled, how many times he’d hiss under his breath as the healing scabs would flake off.

How would he react if he saw your own scars? Would he shy away or would he trace them delicately? Kiss the pain away with gentle words. Promise you that no harm would come upon you again. Would he hold you close? Murmur into your hair an oath kept against his heart. Would he protect you? Kill for you?

Of course he would.

You just hadn’t a clue what this night would bring.

One thing was for certain, you were eager to find out.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤎

Tex, Tess, and Timber:

[glowstickhaloboy]

i think once fucking has turned from something they just started doing to something they do on the regular, there will be a golden era where eddie literally cant go more than a couple hours without it. they had sex before bed. they wake up, make breakfast, things are normal, but then eddie casually pulls buck back onto the sheets and their day doesnt officially start for another 15 minutes or so. shower together. they order delivery for dinner and eddie initiates sex while they wait. and okay yeah one more time before bed i mean of course, buck’s right there and is all too willing??? the first time they’re on shift and eddie realizes he’s trapped in horny hell is AGONY. he doesnt want to wait for the bell he wants to FUCK HIS BOYFRIEND. everyones like 👀 youre a little off, pal. gritted teeth eddie voice im alright. as soon as they get home he’s like thank GOD and riding buck on the couch in broad daylight with the curtains still open because he can only give so many fucks after this hellish ordeal. and then again before bed

[rallentando1011]

Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

rise Donnie x gn reader

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Word Count: 4873

Content: movie night, fight scene, brief text messages (it was a doozy to write but still really fun!)

Chapter Artwork: Here

Waking up before noon was a chore. 

Not necessarily because you stayed up late, also not because you forgot to set an alarm, but the combination of the two made last night’s sleep enticingly prisonlike. 

You only awoke when your bedroom seemed suspiciously bright, your rest suspiciously long. Having work at noon and not wanting to miss it, you shot up in bed, frantically padding for your phone in its place beside you.

Checking the time revealed that it was a comfortable while away from when you had to be at work, not even eleven yet.

Checking your telephone also revealed numerous notifications filling up the screen.

Not that it was odd for you to wake up to a bunch of text messages, but yeah, it was.

When you opened your phone, you saw that the group chat that had been made at April’s birthday party was the culprit.

Shoot. You’d almost forgotten that it even existed. Outside of the pictures from April’s party and a few memes, not much had been sent.

That was, until last night, apparently.

You scrolled to the top of the new messages, getting to work on reading through the slew of them awaiting you.

Today 1:58 AM

Leo: so I recognize that we’re all busy people/yōkai/mutants/unspecified, but we’ve got some free time tonight if you guys would be game for a movie night?

Mikey: Yeah baby! I’m SO down!

Leo: …

Leo: we’re the ones inviting people over so this was more for everyone else, you know?

Mikey: oh. right. knew that.

Today 3:17 AM

April: I’m game! After like seven because your girl has work :))

Donnie: Aren’t you on your fifth job this week?

April: Isn’t your forehead on its fifth inch?

Raph: f

Leo: f

Mikey: f

Today 4:23 AM

Casey: HECK YEAH, I’LL BRING SNAKCS.

Casey: *SNAKCN.

Sunita: You can do it Cass

Casey: **SNACKS!!!

Sunita: It’s a yes from me btw

Casey: Your sarcasm is not appreciated, goopy one.

Casey: Junior is with me right now. I hope you find it suitable that I have invited him along.

Leo: wait, Jr’s not in here? lemme add him rq

Leo added an Unknown number

Maybe Junior: A movie night sounds great! I’m assuming we already have plans to get pizza? If not, I’ll gladly pick some up.

Mikey: You /know/ we’ve got pizza covered, baby! All you need to do is show up

Maybe Junior: Sounds great!

As you caught up on the conversation, you thought about your schedule for the day. Sure, you had work, but only until six, and you didn’t have anything the next day. Some social interaction sounded nice, even if all of the people you were hanging out with all seemed to stay up until ungodly hours.

Today 10:48 AM

You: gosh dang are all of you nocturnal?

You: also yes, I’m absolutely down for a movie night! where at?

April: Remember that one patisserie we ate at in SoHo? Just meet me outside of there and I’ll lead you the rest of the way ;)

You: bet

With that, you rolled yourself off your mattress, slapped on some jeans, a shirt, beanie, fanny pack, boots, snagged some breakfast for the road, and started off on your way to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day at work proved drudgerous.

Thankfully, nothing terrible happened, and you didn’t have many bad interactions with customers, but it was so painfully dull. It had been insipid, realistically, since April had left, but it provided a steady pay and got you by. Such is the life of a retail worker.

The boredom you experienced at work was quickly warped into excitement as your shift ended and your walk to meet with your best pal began.

After a brisk journey, you landed in front of the patisserie that you and April had visited only a few weeks prior. You scanned the area, grinning as your eyes landed on her leaning against the brick wall by the building’s entrance. No sooner than you noticed her, she did the same with you.

“Hey!” April waved you over.

“Hey!” you responded as you walked over to her, taking in the familiar area around you. Coffee shops, hot pot stops, standard commercial buildings and advertisements galore, but not many residences.

“Hey April, where do these pals of yours live anyways?” you asked, still surveilling the nearby edifices.

“Oh. About that…” she started, and you looked at her. 

She seemed nervous, almost.

“It’s fine if they live a while away. I could use the exercise.” 

She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth anxiously. So it wasn’t that.

“What is it?” you asked, the smile you had slowly draining from your face.

“It’s nothing bad, just- let me show you.”

April slipped around the corner and into a dim, adjacent alley while you trailed her like a confused sheep. When she stopped abruptly and looked at the ground, you came up beside her and followed her gaze.

You started rethinking everything that had brought you to this point as you both stared down a slightly ajar manhole.

“The sewers.”

“The sewers,” she confirmed grimly.

“No, you’ve got to be kidding right now. Wherever the hidden cameras-slash-film crew are, they can come out now…”  You paused. You didn’t truly expect anyone or anything to happen, but it sure would’ve made you feel better if it did. However, after a moment filled with the distant sounds of cars and people, you met her eyes again. “We’re really going in there?”

“Yep.”

“Does it not smell like, I don’t know, sewage?”

April snorted. “Oh, no. There are measures put in place to spruce the lair up. We’re talking industrial-grade air fresheners. I helped Donnie put ‘em up years ago.”

“... So it did smell?”

“Man, just get in the sewers!”

With that impetus, you cautiously helped her kick the cover askew, then open, and tentatively placed yourself on the first rung of a ladder built in a wall. Before you continued your descent, you narrowed your eyes at your companion.

“If this is some kind of trick, I swear-”

This time April didn’t indulge you with words. One sight of her deadpan sent you carefully yet swiftly working your way down into the sewers.

Despite being underneath the ground, it was still bright enough to see in front of you, see the rungs methodically moving up as you went down. You attributed your ability to see to the light creeping in through the entrance above, so when April followed you down and worked the cover back in place, you were immediately plunged into darkness.

“Woah, it’s, uh, a bit dark down here,” you called, definitely not clinging desperately to the ladder.

“Oh, right! You’re not really used to this,” April laughed lightly.

“You could say that.”

“Here.” After a moment, a bright light shone from above you. April’s flashlight. In the now illuminated cement structure, you looked up to see her flash you a smile. You mustered up an uneasy one back at her and crept the rest of the way down.

You almost collapsed in relief at being back on solid, albeit sewer-water-dampened, ground. At least it didn’t smell like sewage, just like she had said.

April landed beside you swiftly, giving you a nudge before bounding down a tunnel. “Come on. It’s this way!”

You sighed before coming up beside her.

“Once again, I feel I just need to ask for legal purposes, this isn’t an elaborate hoax or scheme for my demise, right?”

“I promise! Look, just relax.This’ll be fun!”

“Alright.”

You two meandered through the tunnels in a comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the echoes of your steps and the constant drips of faraway water. With how many chambers you had moved through, you contemplated confirming that she knew the way, but the confidence with which she walked convinced you well enough.

Eventually, a light came into view at the end of the passageway, and you could faintly discern the sound of indistinguishable chatter.

“Right here,” April exulted, jogging up to the exit and stepping out into the light. 

You tailed her. As you drank in the scene around you, it was drastically contrary to what you would expect of a sewer dwelling.

The room had the spaciousness and height of a gothic church, though the decor was certainly less ornate. In lieu of flying buttresses or stained glass, the architecture in the lair consisted of graffitied walls, string lights and drainage pipes, which presumably led to more rooms. For an underground home, it was very bright and comely. The most notable feature of the room, however, was the huge skate ramp in the center of the room, the deck almost reaching the ceiling.

“See? Not a slaughterhouse.” April grinned.

You playfully raised a brow. “The night’s still young.”

You took to surveying the ground floor for anyone else.

Off to the side of the grand atrium stood Raph, Casey, and some kid who you’d never seen before. You could only presume him to be that ‘Junior’ character from the group chat.

Well, maybe you weren’t giving him enough credit. He wasn’t a kid, per say, as his built physique and the stubble on his chin made evident, but his bright eyes and how exuberantly he spoke to Casey accentuated his youthful appearance.

“Hey y’all!” April called as you walked over to the three.

Raph and Casey both greeted you with enthusiastic grins, Casey additionally giving you a light slug on the arm.

The new one, however, had a much more interesting reaction. His eyes widened upon seeing you, but maybe he just wasn’t expecting to see a new person. Reasonable, you supposed.

You decided to put your best foot forward, offering a hand shake and your name.

After a moment of just staring at you blankly, he blinked himself back into the present and shook your hand firmly.

“Casey Jones. Nice to see- or, meet, you,” he smiled widely.

“So you’re Casey?” you looked Cassandra mischievously. “And you’re Casey? Are you two related or is that just a coincidence?”

All ongoing conversation stopped for all of them to exchange a look.

April cleared her throat. “Well, about that-”

They proceeded to tell you the craziest story you’d heard in your life. They detailed how when, a couple years back, the Krang invaded and ransacked the city, the kid before you had been portaled from the future by older versions of your current turtle friends. The icing on top of the cake? Casey, the new one, is Cassandra’s son.

“What in the back to the future- you’re from the future?! Dude, you are from the future. That’s the most- I don’t want to say ridiculous but- it’s the wildest thing I’ve ever heard. Did you know me? Ooh, am I cool? I hope I’m cool. Also, no pressure to answer anything, just know that this is literally the most excited I’ve been all day.”

“Yeah, I knew you,” he nodded exuberantly with a bittersweet gleam in his eye. “The coolest commander I ever knew, aside from Commander O’Neil.”

“Commander?! Man, that’s wicked! Sorry if bringing this stuff up is weird or sad.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured. “It is odd seeing you, but I’ve gotten used to it. And it’s sort of nice.”

You smiled warmly at him just as the others’ conversation caught your attention. Casey mentioned something about everyone already being in the projector room, then April brought something up about getting this movie night on the road. You couldn’t agree more.

“So, should we head over there?” you proposed.

“We’ll grab the snacks and meet up with you!” Raph flashed you a toothy grin before smirking at Casey. Original Casey, not Jr. “Race you to the kitchen!”

“You’re going down, reptile!”

The two bounded off. You, April, and other Casey stood stupefied.

“Us too, future boy!” April challenged before breaking into a sprint after Raph and Casey. Casey Jr. shook his head lightheartedly before racing after them.

Just as you thought you’d be left standing like a deer in headlights until they returned, two giggling figures emerged from the sewer tunnel you’d come through, one blue, one orange.

“Hey Mikey, Leo!” you waved

“What’s up?” Leo smiled.

“Not much- woah!” you exclaimed. Mikey had already ran up to you and was currently squeezing your ribs in a tight hug.

“Hi,” he said, grinning widely.

“Hello.” You patted his back once, twice, awkwardly. “I think everyone’s either grabbing snacks or already went to the projector room, wherever that is.”

“We’ll show you the way!” Mikey was practically bouncing. “We’re gonna watch that new JJ movie! It’s a sequel to Pluto Vacation Part 77, but a prequel to Part 4,” Mikey explained exuberantly as he all but dragged you toward the projector room.

“Arguably the worst JJ movie, but let’s not delve into that right now,” Leo muttered.

“JJ?” you slanted your head.

“Jupiter Jim!” Mikey clarified. He let out an audible gasp and stopped walking when he saw you were still confused. “You don’t know Jupiter Jim! Omigosh! Wha- How? I thought I knew you!” The box turtle shook your shoulders.

“Easy, Miguel,” Leo moved Mikey’s hands off of your arms. “It’s not their fault they’re uneducated.”

Your stupefied expression soured. “I was about to thank you for coming to my defense, but I think you just made it worse.”

“Shhh, it’s alright. Don’t you fret, we’ll get you fixed up in about 800 films, reboots, and comics. Onward!” The two brothers started back up on their way to the movie.

“What? How many?” you asked, exasperated. You did not have the time nor attention span for that.

Leo and Mikey continued walking with you tagging along. The red eared slider just shrugged. “Chill, we’re not getting through all of them tonight. We’ll marathon as many as we can, though. I think the one we’re starting on works well enough chronologically.”

“I’ll take your word on it.”

You entered the projector room. The only person who was currently there was Sunita, though you almost didn’t recognize her in her yōkai form at first. You’d only seen it one other time at April’s, and you had lost your mind when she turned into a sludgy green puddle of googlyschmootz. You’d thought that she’d spontaneously combusted, but nope. That was just her insanely cool true form.

She was seated on the ground, eagerly staring at the projection of the menu screen of the Jupiter Jim movie on the wall. Behind her sat an orange, worn out sofa, and to the right of it was a gray bean bag chair.

“Sunita!” Mikey exclaimed, ran up to her, and took a seat beside her while Leo covered himself with a blanket on the couch and scrolled on his phone. “How long have you been watching the menu screen?”

“An hour,” she said nonchalantly, still not daring to take her eye off of it. “The score is just so good! I physically cannot look away.”

You squinted. “But you don’t need to look to hear the- nevermind.” You settled down in front of the bean bag, using the chair as support for your back.

Once you were seated, the sound of footsteps fastly approaching signaled the arrival of more people. 

Casey ran in first, bags of popcorn tucked under her arms, followed by April, with chips, Casey Jr., soda that certainly wouldn’t explode once it was opened, and finally Raph, arms full of candy. All of them were out of breath; you inferred they raced here like they had earlier. Casey boasting about her superior skills proved your hypothesis.

Raph muttered something about having the most to carry as he sulkily plopped down on the couch. Casey landed between him and Leo, still smiling victoriously. 

Casey Jr. set down the ticking time bomb that was the carbonated beverages he had sprinted through the lair with on the ground beside him as he took a seat by Mikey.

April clicked a couple of finger guns your way and sat beside you. She also decided to use the bean bag chair to rest against.

You were about to propose starting the movie before you realized someone was missing.

“Wait, where’s Donnie?” you whispered to April.

“Probably in his lab. Push comes to shove, we send Mikey to sucker him out of his room.”

“Is the lab here?”

“Yep. Just on the other side of the lair.”

“I might be reconsidering my whole stance on the whole ‘living in the sewers’ thing.”

April laughed lightly.

Suddenly, you felt the bean bag you two were resting against gain another commuter, the action bouncing you both.

You tipped your head back, meeting eyes with a nonchalant Donatello resting behind you.

“Personally, I recommend it. Technically not tax evasion if the government can’t find you,” he shrugged.

“It also helps that they don’t know you exist,” April jabbed lightheartedly.

“For legal reasons, I’m gonna pretend I heard none of that,” you averted your gaze jokingly, slowly tipping your head back down.

You heard your companions snicker, then joined them in their laughter. 

Soon, once Raph saw that everyone was present, he hit the buttons on the projector until the movie started playing.

While the movie opened up on, you guessed it, Pluto, snacks and drinks began to proliferate throughout the room and even eventually made their way to you three on the bean bag.

The movie was fairly obviously made on a low budget, as the shoddy camera direction and presence of a boom microphone for five minutes showed, but it was self aware about its campiness. Sure, the lore and character relationships were an absolute cluster, but it was still entertaining. Plus, the prosthetics used for the aliens looked phenomenal, and some scenes were genuinely eerie.

All in all, it was an enjoyable watch, made even more so by April’s occasional humorous comment and Donnie researching behind the scenes facts when something seemed intriguing to him.

As the credits rolled, you took a big stretch.

“That was a bit creepier than I thought a Jupiter Jim movie would be. Consider my timbers, shivered,” you admitted.

“I thought we reserved ‘shivering timbers’ for nautical excursions, same as ‘ahoy,’” Donnie commented. Man, he could really work sarcasm into any conversation. It was impressive, really.

“Hey, you can just drop it now, Don-Tron… That ship’s sailed.” Leo smirked.

“Wow. Boat puns. Stooping low today.” Donnie crossed his arms.

“Please, if we were stooping low, we’d bring up your internet history,” Mikey jumped in on the shenanigans. “But I’d much rudder keep this civil.”

“...” 

“Continuing on,” Raph changed the subject. “I guess Pluto Vacation IV makes the most logical sense?”

Donnie and April cheered. Mikey and Leo groaned. 

“Hey!” April exclaimed. “We agreed not to trash on each other’s favorites.” She then gestured to you. “Plus, they’ve never seen it, so we’re doing this. Got it?”

“Fine,” Leo and Mikey spoke unison, the former rolling his eyes as Raph placed in the DVD and started the film.

The film started, once again, with a killer score, just as Sunita had said. Maybe she had a point about not being able to peel your vision from the screen-

Suddenly, a horrendous beeping noise shrieked from right behind your head, causing you to snap your head around immediately. 

“What is that horrible- oh wait that’s me.” Donnie tapped on the tech gauntlet on his forearm and made the alarm cease. At the same time, someone paused the movie.

“What was that?” you exclaimed, cautiously uncovering your ears.

“Hmm,” the turtle hummed. “Seems like we’ve got a 2100-47 in progress.”

Somewhere in the distance, you could hear crickets chirp.

“Oh, right, no one reads the manual. Art heist, going on right now, Hudson Street.” 

You looked around the room, wondering what the heck any of that meant, but everyone else seemed determined, ready, like superheroes.

“Wait wait wait, what just happened? What was that look?” Silence met you. “Wait, you guys are trying to fight crime? Right now? Seriously?”

You looked to April, who only smirked in response.

“Dang you guys are not slash j right now,” you remarked, gaining a small laugh from the soft shell behind you. “Do I have to stay here or..?”

“I don’t think so,” April spoke up.

“There are plenty of us. What could happen?” Leo pitched in.

“Besides, in the future, you were always able to hold your own,” Casey Jr. beamed. Okay, if you had him backing you up, the guy who knew a future version of you, you couldn’t let him down.

“Alright. I’m ready. At the very least, I’ll be moral support,” you shrugged.

“That’s the spirit!” Casey shouted. “Now let’s go!”

Just like that, your peaceful movie night turned into all of you rushing through the main room of the lair, those with weapons and masks grabbing their respective tools, and climbing up to the surface.

Immediately, Raph, Casey, and Sunita began scaling the rooftops in the direction of Hudson. Leo used his blades to form an electric blue portal, leaving a tingling sensation in the air after he leapt through. Mikey took out a chained instrument and, after latching it to lampposts, swung through the night. The mechanical shell on Donnie’s back converted into a jet pack-adjacent piece of technology with a seat, allowing for him and April to whirl off in the direction of the fighting.

You stood still. You had nary a clue what to do or where to go or- just about anything, really.

You looked over at the only person still beside you and wondered how Casey Jr. planned to get over there.

He looked back at you brightly and stepped beside you.

“Hold on!” Before you could question why, the youth revealed a grappling hook-esque contraption on his wrist, tucked the other arm around you, aimed at a lamppost, and sent you two soaring through the air.

You instinctively clung to the poor lad, who was somehow managing his own and your weight. The wind lashed at your face harshly as you dipped and soared, swinging off of every suitable lamppost or rooftop you passed.

As soon as you started to feel ill, you two landed on solid ground in an alleyway. However, the dread from that was quickly replaced by what you saw there.

Numerous goons were there, some loading crates of presumably stolen items into a large vehicle. The others were already engaged in fighting off your friends.

Their faces seemed unnatural, borderline demonic, and the fact that all of the creatures  had the same exact face did not make it any less uncanny.

The Caseys and April were steadily beating them down with hockey sticks and a baseball bat respectively. Raph and Sunita had seemed to head straight for the truck to salvage the stolen art. Donnie, Leo, and Mikey appeared to be pure agents of chaos, distracting and fighting goons with any means necessary.

“Standard goons. We’ve so got this.” Leo confidently utilized his blades, trapping one of the enemy in particular in a loop of falling infinitely to dizzy them. You weren’t so sure. There were a lot of them, and you were almost getting taken out by your own side.

“Heads up!”

You barely had time to duck out of the way of Mikey’s weapon, a ball attached to chains that were literally on fire, as it whipped just over your head.

“Heads down would be more appropriate!” you called.

You stumbled forward in an attempt to catch your balance. You were barely able to prevent yourself from falling, but you managed to stay upright. No sooner than you steadied yourself, a low hum emitted from the space right in front of you. The air vibrated tensely; it reminded you of how Leo’s portal felt earlier, but that turtle in particular was already busy behind you.

Just as everything clicked in your brain, another portal tore through the air in front of you. This one was colossal, filling up the entire alleyway in its amber glow.

Your breath quickened as you cumbersomely took one step back, then another. Your wide eyes remained transfixed on the gateway in front of you.

Out of the otherworldly portal emerged a ginormous spider, about as tall as the portal itself, four legs acting as legs, the others similar to arms. Well, as similar as spindly spider limbs can be to arms. The arachnid’s six glowing red eyes bore deeply into yours, her jagged teeth curled delightfully into a wicked grin.

Perspiration permeated every pore of your being. Every limb went stiff, each muscle rendered taut. You probably would have screamed if not for fear of bile rising up your throat instead.

“Big Mama…”

“Oh, what a delectable surprise!” Big Mama delighted, her uppity, whimsical tone in such stark contrast with her imposing demeanor. “So many turtle-y boos, and- oh, this is pos-a-bubbly splendiferous!”

Her eyes narrowed in on you, but she didn’t take any action. She simply surveyed you, then the damage her lackeys had taken so far, then what all had been recovered, before they fell back on you.

“Come now, my minions!” The spider ordered coolly, almost excitedly. “We have far more pertinent prerogatives.”

Obediently, immediately, the identical servants ceased their fighting with everyone and filed through the portal behind Big Mama.

With one last nefarious smirk, she disappeared just as she had emerged: in a flash of auburn light.

All of you stood tensely. No one so much as breathed as if an action as insignificant as that would somehow summon the gargantuan spider and her lackeys again.

“So…” Leo’s lighthearted timbre cut through the atmosphere, “who’s up for Part 79?”

“Leo, not the time!” Raph corrected, and the two started to squabble.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you said shakily.

“You okay?” April placed a hand on your shoulder

“Yeah. I’m all good! Just had enough excitement,” you shrugged coolly out of her touch, hoping that you were concealing your panic better than you thought you were. “I’m right around the corner so I can just walk over-”

“I could walk with you.”

You paused, looked at who had said that. Donnie. You tilted your head at him, fairly certain that everyone else was just as perplexed.

He retracted about as much as he could into his shell at the attention. “For safety, of course. Because, you know, that was a really oddly timed exit and they could be waiting nearby and-”

“I get it, I get it,” you reassured, sparing him from digging a deeper grave. “I’ll gladly take the escort.” You turned to address the rest of the bunch. “Thank you very much for having me over, guys, it’s been real. A-A little too real, maybe, but fun either way. Goodnight, gang!”

You waved goodbyes and exited the alleyway, a purple-clad turtle in tow. You walked silently, still hardly processing what you had just witnessed. His presence was still pleasant, even if no words were exchanged.

Only when you were about a block away from your home did you speak. “So, do you guys experience stuff like that all the time or is the physical embodiment of arachnophobia a special occurrence?”

“Yeah, that was pretty much the usual, but Big Mama’s just about the worst of them. It used to be Baron Draxum, the warrior-alchemist-sheep man who made us, but he’s been rehabilitated.”

“Pardon? Your dad’s a sheep man?”

“No, my dad’s actually a rat. Draxum’s just my creator, father at best.”

“Oh, okay.” You nodded along as if you grasped any of that. But if he was a turtle, then how would a rat or a sheep- oh, you were reading into it too much. It didn’t matter though, as you had already arrived in front of your complex. You walked up to the porch and turned toward him.

“Thanks for walking me back. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.”

You two paused. Were you supposed to walk away? Have more conversation?

After a moment of just looking at him, you gave him a small salute. “I’ll see you around, ‘Tello-”

“Wait!” he said before speaking more quietly. “I made a prototype of the technology I told you about at the library, if you want to come over and check it out sometime?”

“Oh, would I?” you beamed. “That sounds wonderful. I’m free tomorrow morning, if that works for you?”

“Y-Yeah, tomorrow’s great.” He smiled brightly back. “Great!”

“Does eleven sound good?”

“Eleven works.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” He clicked his tongue, rocked back and forth on his heels.

“I’ll see you then.” You did finger guns, internally cursing yourself for it.

“I bid you adieu.”

“Right back at you. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight.” He finally made his way off the porch before shooting off into the sky with his battle shell, and you could finally head up to your place.

That was quite possibly the most awkward farewell you’d ever had. Very sweet, yes, but awkward nonetheless.

At the very least, you’d made it home in one piece. You couldn’t wait to see him- you meant, see his invention tomorrow.

Taglist~

@rottmntsimp

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Creepy Carl

Danny is not fond of his parents' old ghost hunting friend that's come to pay them a visit for the week.

For the prompts: Jack and Maddie invite an old ghost hunting buddy (not Vlad) to stay in their guest room for the week. Expecting to catch up with their good ole pal, they're a little confused when this ghost hunter just keeps asking questions about their son, Danny [from @ectoblastfromthepast], and After the accident, Danny no longer has a shadow, and he isn't the first person to notice its absence. [from TheSilentBard]

Fair warning, Danny calls the old ghost hunting buddy 'Creepy Carl' for a reason. It may not be sexual in any way, but he is still very much creeping on a child, and I think y'all should be aware of that going in.

Read also on AO3

[Warning for uncanny valley elements, and (non-sexual) inappropriate behavior by an adult toward a minor]

How many 'old ghost hunting buddies' did his parents have? Danny wondered as they introduced them to one Anderson Carl. First Vlad, and now this guy?

Apparently, after college and before Jazz was born, the two of them had gone on many a ghost hunt with Mr. Carl. Now, he had his own paranormal investigation blog with a pretty decent readership, and he had come to Amity Park to do a piece on the town, which of course meant he needed a place to stay in town while he was doing research.

Luckily, he had a couple of old buddies with a guest room who happened to live right where the action was, and when he told them he was coming to town, they eagerly invited him to stay in said guest room for the whole week he was planning to stay. They thought it would be a great chance to catch up with their good ole pal, but Danny was wary the second he laid eyes on the man.

Anderson Carl wasn't as tall as Jack, as hardly anyone was, but he still loomed over Danny at a solid six feet tall, probably a few inches taller than that. He had close-cropped, dirty blond hair, and dark gray eyes like angry storm clouds, they even seemed to light up with electric curiosity as Danny watched the man, and the man also watched him.

"Welcome to Fenton Works," Maddie greeted him cheerfully. "That's our son, Danny. Our daughter Jazz is out tutoring right now, but she'll be back in a few hours."

"Nice to meet you, Danny," Mr. Carl said, and smiled.

The smile was perfectly ordinary, but Danny couldn't help feeling a sinister chill when it was directed at him. Maybe it was to too-white teeth, or the way it stretched his chapped lips so tightly they looked like they might crack, but Danny didn't like it.

"Uh... sure," Danny said cautiously. "Sorry, but I've got homework to do, so I'm gonna go."

He could feel those dark eyes following him all the way up the stairs, and when he closed his bedroom door behind him, he felt like Mr. Carl couldn't be leaving town soon enough. A whole week of this already sounded unbearable.

The next morning, when Danny got dressed and left for school, Mr. Carl was already awake, and sitting at the kitchen table, typing on his laptop. The laptop, too, was a dark grey, but it had a sticker on it that said UncannyCarl.com in bright red letters designed to look like they were partially obscured by smoke.

"Good Morning, Danny," the man greeted, with that same unsettling smile from the day before. "Off to school?"

"Yeah, it's Monday, so..." Danny trailed off. He took an orange out of the bowl on the counter for breakfast, not taking his eyes of the man before him. "Is that your blog, Mr. Carl?" he asked. "Uncanny Carl dot com?"

"That's right," the man confirmed. "Uncanny is something of a synonym for paranormal, but really the name is based on... are you familiar with the uncanny valley effect?"

"Never heard of it," Danny said.

"The uncanny valley effect is when you see something that looks human in most respects, but it's just slightly off enough to make your brain send out warning signals that it's not human, and you shouldn't be fooled by it," Mr. Carl explained. "Often times, you aren't consciously aware of what detail your brain registers as wrong that's causing the uncanny valley effect, whether it's that their arms are just slightly too long, the shape of their face is abnormal, or they don't have a shadow. Your brain notices it, even if you don't."

Danny couldn't help thinking that this guy was a little uncanny valley himself, but he thought it would be rude to say out loud, and he didn't want to piss off his parents' creepy guest.

"That's fascinating Mr. Carl, but I gotta get to school."

"Oh, and you can drop the 'Mr', by the way," he said. "Everyone just calls me Carl, even though it's my last name. In school, people used to joke that my parents must've but my name backwards on my birth certificate."

Danny just furrowed his eyebrows, shook his head, and left the kitchen, along with Creepy Carl, behind him as he headed out the front door to school.

Between classes, he caught Sam and Tucker up on his new house guest.

"Great, because all you need is another ghost hunter living under your roof," Sam said sardonically.

"I know, right?" Danny agreed. "At least this one's only staying until Saturday, but he's already creeping me out. I feel like he's constantly watching me whenever we're both in a room together. It's weird."

"Do you think he noticed something about you?" Tucker asked. "I mean, you don't know anything about this guy. What if he's actually a better ghost hunter than your parents?"

"It's not hard to be," Sam scoffed.

Danny ignored her, choosing instead to answer Tucker's question. "I'm not sure, but... maybe? He was talking about something called the uncanny valley effect, which he explained as being able to recognize when something that looked human wasn't, I guess. Something like that, anyway. He was just explaining the name of his blog, but he might've meant it as a warning that he was onto me.

"If you ask me, he's the uncanny valley one, though."

—

Jack and Maddie had been excited to show their old friend around their (relatively) new lab, especially the Fenton Ghost Portal. Carl seemed suitably interested in all of it, and he listened as they caught him up on their lives since he'd parted ways with the couple, but the whole time he seemed a bit... distracted.

Back when they were fresh college graduates, Carl had been an eager note-taker, his pencil hardly stilling on the pad of yellow lined paper he always carried with him. But now, he was hardly taking any notes at all. Even when he was staring at the portal between this world and the next, he only scribbled down a few sentences before twirling his pencil idly between his fingers.

They asked him about what he'd been up to since they last saw him, and he told them, but he was remarkably brief. He mentioned that he'd gone solo for a bit before deciding to start a blog, and he'd been running that ever since, writing the occasional opinion piece for local newspaper to get some supplemental income.

He'd finished talking about himself in under a minute, and even when asked, he didn't seem keen to elaborate on any particular investigation of his over the last sixteen years. All he said was that they could read about it all on his blog.

That wasn't the end of his strange behavior, because the next thing he asked about was Danny.

Jack and Maddie were of course very eager to brag about their kids, especially Jazz, but when they started to do so, Carl said they were getting off track, and he was really curious about Danny.

He asked them how old Danny was, if he was at all reclusive, or short-tempered, if they'd ever noticed him acting particularly odd or cagey.

They answered of course, seeing no reason not to. Carl was their friend after all, and they trusted that he didn't have any bad intentions when it came to their son—and if he did, they wouldn't hesitate to beat his ass and hand him over to the police—but surely he didn't. They were still confused though. Especially because, since the conversation turned to Danny, Carl's pencil hadn't stopped moving even once.

"What's with all the questions about Danny?" Jack asked. "I thought you came here to investigate ghosts."

"Oh, no real reason," Carl replied with a casual shrug. "Just... a bit of a hunch. I won't bother you with it unless I happen to find proof." Then he asked, "Have you even noticed that the air feels colder around Danny, or that standing next to him gives you an uncomfortable buzzing sensation under your skin?"

It was a odd question... but even odder was that neither Jack nor Maddie were actually sure of the answer. They worked with ghosts all the time so of course they felt sensations like that, but... neither could remember if they'd felt them around Danny... nor could they say for sure that they hadn't.

As Carl continued his line of questioning, a feeling of disquiet settled in on top of their confusion. After a point, they asked if he might want to hear about some of the recent ghost incidents around town, rather than just spending all day talking about their fourteen-year-old son.

Carl looked at them in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowed as if he might challenge them and insist. But then his lips quirked up in a smile, and he agreed to the subject change without resistance.

It wouldn't be the last time he asked about Danny that week though. He would stop, when asked, but by and by, the topic of Danny would always come up again, and when they told him about Danny's accident with the Fenton Portal a few months before, he seemed particularly intrigued.

—

It had been three days since Creepy Carl took up residence in the Fenton guest room, and Danny could confidently say that he hated the guy. He'd suspected as much from day one, but now that it was Wednesday, Danny had confidently confirmed that Creepy Carl almost never looked away from Danny when the two of them were in the same room, and it was seriously freaking Danny out.

At home, Danny was spending almost all his time in his bedroom to avoid running into the guy. Unfortunately, his bedroom shared a wall with the guest room, and just knowing the guy was right on the other side of the wall was causing Danny to lose sleep.

Still, Creepy Carl never did anything more than just watch him. At least, not until very late Friday night, or very early Saturday morning. Danny never did know which was more correct. His discomfort proved to be well founded when, around one in the morning that night, he awoke to a bright light being shined on his face.

Danny put a hand up to block the light and sat up to see what was causing it.

He wasn't sure if she should be surprised or not when he made out the silhouette of Anderson Carl shining a flashlight directly at his face. Danny was pretty sure his bedroom door had been locked. Ever since Carl started staying the room next door, Danny had been making sure to lock it. Obviously that had been a futile endeavor.

"What the hell, Carl?" Danny groaned. "Just... just what the hell?"

"What are you?" Creepy Carl asked creepily.

"What do you mean what am I? I'm a freshman."

"A freshman without a shadow?"

"What?"

"Look behind you?"

Danny was hesitant to take his eyes off the creep in front of him, but curiosity got the better of him and he turned.

On the wall behind him was a circle of light from Carl's flashlight. For a moment, Danny didn't register what he was supposed to be seeing, then as the tiredness in his brain started to lift slightly, he realized. He was supposed to be seeing his shadow behind him.

It wasn't there.

He snapped his head back around to look at Carl, and jumped with a start when he realized that the man had taken several steps closer to Danny's bed when he wasn't looking, in absolute silence, and without any movement of the flashlight in his hand. He was now knelt next to the bed, scrutinizing Danny with wide eyes.

"What are you?" Carl repeated.

He was close enough now that Danny could feel the warmth of his breath and lurched backwards in vague disgust and alarm.

"Uncanny Valley, right?" Danny said. "You would know better than I would. What are you?"

Danny had thought that Carl wasn't moving, but then he suddenly froze, and Danny realized the still he'd been a moment ago had been jittery and trembling, but the still he was no was statuesque and cold. He said nothing, and narrowed his eyes like he wasn't sure if he should, or if he should keep holding his cards close to his chest.

"I'll be honest, I never actually noticed I didn't cast a shadow until you pointed it out," Danny admitted. "But I've noticed plenty of uncanny valley around you."

"Like what?" Carl asked, though his tone didn't carry any doubt, just curiosity.

"Like... your smile is wrong. You teeth are too straight, and too white. Kinda like a TV news anchor, except I'm pretty sure there are too many of them." Danny saw Carl run his tongue over his teeth like he was counting them. Then he added, "And also, your lips are all cracked and gross, which isn't uncanny valley, but it is weird that you'd take such good care of your teeth and not even bother with some lip balm."

"Is that all?"

"Your eyes are weird, too," Danny continued. "Nobody's eyes are that color, and even if they were, they wouldn't spark like yours do, just tiny flashes of light. Human eyes don't do that. And your skin is too thin, I think, because your veins and stuff are all weirdly visible, even though you're not that pale."

Carl nodded slowly.

"And... how many teeth are people supposed to have?" he asked.

"I dunno," Danny said with a shrug. "I think, like, thirty, thirty-two, somewhere around there."

"Thanks for the tip," Carl said. "Your eyes flash, too, you know. Bright green. When your emotions are running high."

"Yeah, I know. I've been working on that."

"You're really not going to tell me, are you?" Carl stood, evidently resigned to not getting an answer. "I know you're not a human, and I know you're no ordinary ghost. You sure you won't even give me a hint?"

Danny gave him a derisive snort. "Will you?"

"No, I suppose not." Carl smiled then, and though it was dark, Danny could almost swear the number of teeth in his mouth had changed. "I guess we'll both just have to suffer in disappointment. Goodnight, Danny."

With that, he turned around and walked out of the room, not waiting for an answer.

Danny got up and went to check his door, to see if Carl had broken the lock to get in or something.

Not only was it not broken, it was still locked. Danny had seen the door open and close. He'd heard the doorknob twist. But it had somehow remained locked the whole time.

"Goodnight, Creepy Carl," Danny whispered.

He went back to bed, but didn't get a wink of sleep.

Creepy Carl left the following afternoon, much to Danny's relief.

He hoped that he would never have to see the man again, but somehow, he had a feeling he would. Someday, somewhere... when he least expected it.

[spookygingerr]

weekly tag wednesday

thanks for creating this @mybrainismelted and for the tags @kiennilove, @deedala, @creepkinginc & @energievie. i've loved reading about all your routines

this week - tell me about a day in the life of:

name:  ice

age: funnily enough, the same age as ice spice

are you in school, do you work full-time, or other?  i work full time and i'm also in night school studying for my dream career

tell me about your morning routine on a school/work day: if it's a gym day i'm up at 6am, pre gym breakfast and coffee, gym, home, shower, brush teeth, post gym breakfast and coffee. if it's not a gym day, i get up at 8am and just have the one breakfast and coffee, i still shower, brush teeth, etc. i work from home so i'm always in comfy clothes

what do you usually have for breakfast? so, for coffee, i either have a collagen protein iced coffee, or have a normal iced coffee and a protein shake (the clear whey kind), and either a chocolate waffle and yoghurt if i want sweet, or something like toast with cream cheese and mushrooms if i want savoury. i always have to eat before and after the gym as i am so hungry in the morning and i seem to be really sensitive to changes in my blood sugar

how many breaks do you take during the day?  i have one hour lunch break a day

do you go straight home when you are done?  already there baby. however i now have a home office so i walk from my office to my room the kitchen

do you like to go out in the evening?  idk if i like it, but i also don't like my life revolving around my job so it's nice to have more than one thing happening a day ig. one night a week i have therapy, and the other i have college. sometimes i have other appointments in the evening or plans but usually i'll be studying, drawing or talking to my pocket pals <3

do you cook dinner or order in?  cook! i love cooking so much

how do you entertain yourself in the evenings?  pocket pals, drawing, reading and sometimes movies

and finally, tell me about your bedtime routine: i try my very hardest to be in bed reading by 9pm and asleep by 10pm. it's easier earlier in the week, and when i have the gym the next morning. on wednesday's i don't finish college until 9pm so i then have to get home, get ready for bed and unwind so really it depends on the night. but always; pyjamas, hair in bonnet, wash face, brush teeth, meds and reading

tags below the cut

@gallapiech @transmurderbug @ian-galagher @roryonic @doshiart

@sgtmickeyslaughter @heymacy @michellemisfit @jrooc @thepupperino

@em-harlsnow @mickeym4ndy @sam-loves-seb @callivich @especially-fuk-u

@sleepyheadgallavich @spacerockwriting @vintagelacerosette @deathclassic @heymrspatel

@sickness-health-all-that-shit @stocious @atthedugouts @depressedstressedlemonzest

@suzy-queued @gardenerian @spoonfulstar @the-rat-wins @crossmydna

@mmmichyyy @blue-disco-lights @bawlbrayker