#you know??? she's not the person he was already assigned to protect. there was one chance and it's over

[i-guess-im-into-this-now]

The Apothecary Diaries

S1E15 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

My character/locations cheat sheet

Suiren - Jinshi's attendant

Lakan - mysterious officer

Lihaku - the military officer who took Maomao out of the Rear Palace

Basan - an officer who works in the palace

Xiaolan - Maomao's servant girl friend

Palace gossip! Lihaku has done a good job handling the fire investigation. But he had help from Jinshi's personal assistant! Didn't Jinshi just buy a beautiful courtesan from Verdigris House?

This shit is worth sitting up for. Master Lakan, who's peaceful nap was interrupted by gossipy military bitches, would like to hear more about Maomao. Should I be worried about this guy's interest in Maomao?

Gaoshun would like Maomao to look into an old case. If you want to close a cold case, then Maomao is certainly the one to ask.

Side note: Gaoshun just offered to take Maomao to a restaurant to eat raw pufferfish. Is Gaoshun going to get a date with Maomao before Jinshi does? Bwahahaha!

So Gaoshun was asked to investigate this case years ago. Which makes me wonder what his position is/was. I thought it was mentioned that he has been with Jinshi since the day he was born, but that can't be right either, or he would have noticed the baby swap. Unless, I mean he is not always around Jinshi, so maybe the swap happened when he was out investigating a case? Also, can people not recognize one baby from another? Or did the swap happen so quickly after the births that people really didn't know what their child looked like. Whatever, the details probably aren't that important.

So after hearing about Jinshi's new servant/concubine who can solve mysteries, Lakan approached Jinshi's man, Gaoshun, to ask for help solving a case. Uh yeah, that dude knows a thing or two about strategy and maneuvering others. Is this guy dangerous?

A similar case has arisen, a bureaucrat has fallen into a coma after eating raw pufferfish.

Maomao: Master Gaoshun. Forgive me, but is it appropriate for you to be discussing this with me? Gaoshun: It won't be an issue. Unlike certain individuals, you understand your position.

What a loaded response from Gaoshun.

He's clearly taking a dig at Jinshi. Gaoshun was frustrated when Jinshi was assigned to care for the Rear Palace, and thinks that using his appearance as a test against the concubines is beneath him. But he also has been witnessing Jinshi spiral further and further away from propriety with Maomao, and can't approve of it. I thought Gaoshun had decided to support Jinshi and Maomao when he intervened to get Jinshi to Verdigris House and rescue Maomao. But, perhaps his motives weren't to support a romantic relationship between the two, rather to bring Maomao back to the palace where she would be under their protection and within their control. The second half of his statement to Maomao, "you understand your position," is also a bit of a reminder or perhaps a warning to her. He's also saying don't try to exceed your station. Gaoshun is delusional if he thinks the situation between Maomao and Jinshi can be maintained as it is.

Gaoshun lays out two similar poisoning cases. Maomao's keen mind is already rolling through the possibilities and she asks for some more information.

Jinshi scares the living shit out of Maomao when he startles her by asking what she was talking about with Gaoshun. I find it interesting that this request came directly through Gaoshun via Lakan, and that Jinshi was not aware of it. Why not inform Jinshi? I had wondered before about Lakan, if he might be some kind of rival of Jinshi's, since he seemed to take such an interest in the gossip about him. That Gaoshun, avoided informing Jinshi about this, makes me think there is something between those two gentleman, that isn't friendly. This scene also shows us that Gaoshun does sometimes operate outside of Jinshi's domain. We saw that in the past he was an investigator, and that now he sometimes does tasks that aren't given by Jinshi. Also, Jinshi is in casual robes, with wet hair. He clearly just got out of the bath. Was Gaoshun trying to have this conversation with Maomao while Jinshi was busy. Was he trying to hide this from Jinshi?

Jinshi: You seemed to be listening quite intently to Master Gaoshun's story.

Jinshi has become a bit possessive where it comes to Maomao. We saw that when he brought her back from Verdigris House, and again when Gaoshun gave Maomao a cloak last episode. Here it is again, with her having an intense conversation with Gaoshun. I wonder what Jinshi's actual thoughts are on his possessive actions. I mean I can see that his emotions for her are making him jealous and he's not bothering to try and hide that, but in his mind, does he think he has a claim on Maomao? He may actually have a legal claim since he did buy out her contract at the brothel, but in what way does he intend to exert that claim? Does Jinshi see Maomao as something he owns? Is his jealousy connected to that? Is he frustrated that he just bought a concubine and she wants nothing to do with him romantically? Or are the feelings of jealousy that we're seeing simply from his attraction to her? Does he simply wish her to return his feelings, and want to keep other guys away from her, so they won't get a chance to pull her attention away from him?

Maomao: People tend to pay attention to stories they actually find interesting. Jinshi: Now hold on. Is that why you frequently cut me off midsentence- Maomao: Oh dear. It's getting late. I suppose I'd better take my leave.

So the ambiguity of the relationship between Maomao and Jinshi has not affected their ability banter. Maomao is still teasing Jinshi, even if the conversation may indicate that Maomao has been avoiding Jinshi. Is she afraid they may have to talk about what it means that she's had her contract purchased and is living in Jinshi's house? Is she afraid her feelings may tip over into something that is even more difficult to hide from? Is she afraid she'll have to confront Jinshi's true identity and all the repercussions that come with it? All of the above? This situation feels so untenable.

Jinshi: Come back here. I'm not done talking with you- Suiren: And I have not finished drying your hair. Hold still

Suiren really controls everything that happens in this house doesn't she? What are this lady's goals? What does she think about Jinshi and Maomao?

Jinshi watches Maomao walk away and rumbles in frustration. He's ever trying to get closer, while Maomao keeps her distance. What will it take to change this?

Gaoshun returns with the details Maomao requested.

Maomao: I knew you would deliver.

There is a real trust and comradery developing between Gaoshun and Maomao. She doesn't have the same reservations she has with Jinshi and she isn't nearly as critical of Gaoshun. Indeed, she routinely views Gaoshun with glowing praise. In many ways he's the ideal man in Maomao's eyes, even if she doesn't see him as a match for her personally. I wonder how she would accept knowing Gaoshun's true identity.

Jinshi is delighted to come upon Maomao and Gaoshun discussing the poisoning mystery. He can't resist teasing Maomao for getting stuck on this case. It's rare that she doesn't figure out the solution right away, which means she probably hasn't had all the clues presented to her yet. Not only is she very good at solving mysteries, she's very perceptive and good at recognizing clues. So far everything she's been presented are clues gathered by other people. I have no doubt she could solve this if she were able to investigate herself.

Suiren: Careful, or you'll ruin your appetite. Jinshi: I'm a grown man. Maomao: Highly debatable from what I've seen.

Okay, I'm going to side with Jinshi on this one. Like, let the man eat if he's hungry. Also, isn't this his house? Why does everyone get to have an opinion on when and what he eats? Or how he behaves. Jinshi already lives in a fishbowl with eyes on him and every action he takes. It would be nice if he could have a little slack in his own home. But that is not his fate. He's destine to be slowly driven insane by endless demands and expectations.

Finally, Maomao will be able to see the kitchen where the poisonous meal was prepared. No doubt she'll be able to solve this now.

Maomao meets up with Basen. And it took me a moment to remember where I heard that name before, but this was the officer Jinshi was sparing with (shirtless!) way back in episode 5. He was kind of a hot-headed fighter, but was humble enough after Jinshi kicked his ass. He's being a dick to Maomao here. Now I just want to see Jinshi beat his ass again. Maomao says she's never seen Basen before but that he looks a bit familiar. What the hell? Like, is he related to someone she knows? You know what, I'm already working on trying to figure out Maomao and Jinshi's parentage, I'm not going to waste thoughts for fricking Basen.

I lied. This is actually going to bother me.

The only thing I can think of off the top of my head is that he has crazy hair just like Lakan, but Maomao hasn't met him, so how can he look familiar. Fuck it.

So Maomao and Basen take one step into the kitchen and a dude runs up and demands they leave. It's not at all suspicious.

Damn it Basen does look familiar doesn't he? But like who?

Maomao finds the seaweed that is out of season and steals some on her way out. Thievery is becoming a habit for Maomao. She explains that the seaweed was improperly prepared before being shipped to this region, so it was never detoxified. She implies that it may have been intentional and the others know what to do from there.

We see a humous scene of Maomao explaining that the seaweed is toxic and proceeds to eat it. Jinshi is about at horrified as he can be. To be clear, he has the appropriate reaction for when someone consumes something poisonous. Jinshi forces her to take an emetic agent and vomit it back up before she can allow her experiment to begin. Once again we see her disregard her own wellbeing to pursue her study of poisons. It's reckless behavior. I understand that she doesn't have an ethical way to run these experiments, but one doesn't risk their own life or health for the pursuit of knowledge without having a pretty messed up sense of the value of their own life. She could have done this experiment in private and tried to hide it, but instead chose to do it in front of Jinshi and Gaoshun. I wonder if she was curious to see their reactions, or if she was even hoping they would respond this way. That they prevent her from hurting herself is a sign of their care for her. Will she be able to understand that and internalize it? I'm not hopeful.

Oh, that not at all suspicious younger brother was the culprit who bought the foreign seaweed? You don't say. Okay so he felt he wasn't treated well as the younger brother. Is this the same dude from the end of the last episode when someone was whining about being "worthy too?" So the mysterious guy who happened to be around the night Sir Kounen died, was also around to suggest to this murderous little brother, that he import toxic seaweed from the south. What is that serial killer up to? Does he have a larger goal? Is he part of a conspiracy?

Maomao, I think is tidying up Jinshi's bedroom, and is in a terrific mood, dreaming about how to use her caterpillar fungus. She accidentally is overly welcoming to Jinshi, and it is too much like a scene from one of his fondest dreams, so he smashes his face against the wall. These two cannot keep going on like this. Jinshi is desperate to move things forward with Maomao, even if he is holding back for now. And Maomao cannot pretend to be oblivious to his feelings forever.

Jinshi is exhausted. He has a lot of work to do, and Lakan has been making his life harder than usual.

Finally we get more information about Lakan. He's past forty, a high ranking military office, and a weirdo. I'm always looking for long lost parents, and this guy is a prime suspect. And he could work for Maomoa, Jinshi, or Basen. The fact that he's a "weirdo" makes me lean towards Maomao. Also, his strategic mind. Though I suppose that could be descriptive of Maomao or Jinshi, I think it fits Maomao better.

Jinshi says he thinks Lakan has it out for him, because he keeps causing trouble, plus the man has been in his office for the last few days. Probably ever since he heard about Maomao.

Jinshi is opening up and sharing his frustration about something going on in his life, and Maomao decides it's not her problem, so she doesn't need to care.

On the one hand I get it, she's trying to stay out of things that aren't her business. We see that consistently with how she avoids gossip. She may also feel that since she is merely a servant, that her opinions wouldn't be welcome here. But either way, Jinshi has decided to open up and share something, and she just disregards that. Frankly, it's rude.

If a friend wants to share something with you, you should make some effort to listen, it's how you build and nurture relationships. Of course that is likely the heart of the problem here. Maomao is terrified of intimacy, and this is a lot like actually being friends. She can't allow it. At least not with Jinshi.

We have seen Maomao sit and listen to Xiaolan, chatting about all kinds of different things, and I'm trying to remember specific examples but I think she would be willing to listen to the ladies of the Jade Pavilion or Verdigris House. I at least don't remember her ever straight up bailing on a conversation like this. It's really only Jinshi that gets this kind of treatment, and it's because he's the biggest threat.

She could be friends with just about anyone else, but with Jinshi, it's a slippery slope. If she allows a deeper friendship to grow, what's to stop her from continuing to tumble, until she fall completely in love?

Foreshadowing:

Maomao: Enough of that. It's not like it affects me, right?

Right.

And for as much as Maomao would love to check out of what Jinshi was saying, in truth she's bothered by it. The skies are cloudy, and Maomao's got a bad feeling about Lakan. She's worried about Jinshi. I wish Maomao had a therapist.

So we finally get a scene between Jinshi and Lakan. And what a scene it is!

Lakan arrives with fake smiles and words with hidden meanings. Jinshi is on guard from the start.

Lakan wants to talk about Verdigris House. He had a connection with a courtesan there who was a master at Go. Lakan lost his chance to buy her when her price went up during a bidding war. The courtesan he's talking about was an interesting one, who sold her skills but not herself, and wore a haughty expression. Jinshi unwillingly relates to Lakan when he describes the joy of being glared at.

Jinshi can't help himself and keeps asking questions even though he is aware that Lakan is luring him deeper into this conversation. Does Jinshi have an interest in this conversation? What Lakan's goals are here, Jinshi doesn't know, and I don't either, but Jinshi and I are both pretty sure it has to do with Maomao.

Lakan did something to the courtesan to lower her value, but doesn't want to reveal his misdeeds without a favor. Lakan asks to meet Maomao, and refers to her as Jinshi's servant rather than his concubine, which is interesting, following the conversation that preceded this ask. There is a mystery that Lakan wants to get to the bottom of, and he wants Maomao to take a look. Jinshi allows it. Maybe trying to find some peace from the endless trouble that Lakan has been causing him, or maybe he is agreeing to something, something mysterious that was being discussed in this conversation, that wasn't said aloud.

So time for a wild theory. I'm wondering if Lakan is Maomao's father and if the courtesan might be Maomao's mother. The thing he did to lower her value may be to impregnate the woman. Was he able to purchase the woman? Did he move her into the annex? Is Lakan a rotten piece of shit, and Maomao's mother faked Maomao's death and asked Luomen to help get her away from Lakan? If so, and Lakan suspects who Maomao may be, then his conversation with Jinshi may be a chance to see what Jinshi knows. Lay out some pieces of the story and see if Jinshi reacts.

And now I wonder, just how much does Jinshi know?! Does he know about Maomao's parentage? Is that why he couldn't help asking more questions? Is that why he agreed to allow Lakan to see Maomao. Is this some kind of tacit agreement, like fine you can see her, but don't tell her any of this shit?

In the final scene the rains have come. Trouble has arrived.

To start from the beginning:

Episode 1

Next Episode:

Episode 16

#the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi #jinmao #jinshi x maomao

[sincerelyneo]

no judgement | l.mk

“i can be your lover or your shoulder to cry on, you can be whoever you like”

💿now playing: no judgement by niall horan

❯ summary: Mark’s shocked to see you at his front door step crying, but he isn’t surprised. You do this all the time - get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute that asshole dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces. And he will. He always does.

❯ pairings: mark x fem!reader (brief mention of yuta)

❯ genre: friends to strangers to lovers? smut, angst

❯ words: 4.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, protected sex, lowkey sub!mark, hookup, rebound sex, glasses kink, big dick mark bc yes, oral sex (m receiving), nipple play, slight begging, yuta is an asshole for the plot, reader is also kinda mean, mentions of cheating (not between mark + y/n), slight unrequited love, use of ‘pretty girl’, reader uses she/her pronouns.

Mark thinks his mind is playing tricks on him. I mean - it would make sense - the last time he’d checked the clock on his desk it was 12:17 am. So, there’s no way the light knocking on his front door is really happening…right? 

He tries to focus on the papers in front of him - a work assignment that was due last week that he’d already managed to get an extension on. He knows his boss will have his balls if he doesn’t have it completed and on his desk by 8:00 am sharp tomorrow (today). 

However, Mark’s fears of premature insanity are put to a quick end this time when the knocking is paired with an unnecessarily loud yelling through his letter box. 

“Mark Lee if you don’t open this door right now, I swear I’ll kick your ass the next time I see you.” 

Now that - the sound of your voice - wasn’t in his imagination. 

You bang harder, clear that you're using a fully clenched fist to make as much noise as possible.  “I’m serious dude, I’ve kicked your ass before, and I’ll do it again. Now open. The. Door.” 

Mark knows he should just ignore you, pretend that he’s sleeping and focus on his work; but, he hasn’t seen you in months, and you are supposed to be his best friend after all. He can’t just leave you out on the street at this hour — he won’t — what sort of friend would he be?

He rises from his desk, removes his glasses, and places them gently on the wooden surface before pinching the bridge of his nose.

You knock (pound) again. 

“‘Alright alright, jeez, I’m coming,” he says, followed by a small curse as he ushers through his hallway to the front door. 

As he swings the door open, he’s almost hit with a nasty sucker punch to the cheek as you simultaneously raise your fist to knock again.

“Woah there, calm down, you’re gonna get me a noise complaint,” he flinches. 

“I think it’s a little too late for that,” you point to the house next door, “That woman has been glaring at me from her window since I got here.” 

Mark peers out of his house, the cold night air nipping at the tips of his ears, and sees his neighbour looking down shaking her head disapprovingly at him. He raises his hand in a feeble apology, with a tight-lipped smile to ease the edge, but it doesn’t, he knows it doesn’t and he knows he’s going to have to do a lot of ass kissing in the morning. 

“Well, Mrs Kim and her husband have just had a baby.” 

He watches you shrug then grimace, “How was I supposed to know that? They didn’t have one the last time I was here.” 

It’s now when Mark takes in the person standing in front of him, a mere silhouette of his childhood best friend. You’re barefoot, which already raises questions in his mind, and a bottle of wine is in your hand. Your hair is dishevelled and mascara smudged under the bottom of your eye – which makes sense since he can see the faded redness from where he knows you’ve been crying. 

 “So, you gonna let me in or what? I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

Well obviously, Mark thinks, you’re wearing nothing but a short black dress, covered by a thin sheer blazer leaving your legs completely bare in the middle of winter. Your teeth chatter and he has to suppress the smile threatening to dance on his lips because it reminds him of when the two of you used to mess around in the snow during winter break back in high school.

But he pushes those memories to the side, just like his front door, as he makes enough room for you to slip into his house. As you step inside, you waste no time making yourself comfortable - old habits die hard you guess - remembering how things used to be.

You remove the blazer you're wearing and walk over to Mark's desk, draping it over the back of his chair. Your eyes fall on the sheets of paper scattered across the surface, partially covered by his glasses. You recall that he had stopped wearing them during junior year, opting for contacts instead - a decision you found disappointing. You had always liked his glasses; they made him look kind of... cute.

“I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

Yes. 

“Nah, not really,” Mark shrugs following in from behind you. 

“Really?” You ask picking up a sheet of paper as you raise an eyebrow, “Marketing campaign for neo gummies, on my desk Monday 8:00 am.”

There’s a smile on your face as you read it because it’s nice to know that the Mark standing in front of you is the same as the one you grew up with. He was always the last person to hand in his college assignments, and school science projects; but don’t get it wrong, he’d always ace them. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve basically finished it.”

Mark’s lying, and you can easily tell by the way his arm reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. It's a mannerism you've become aware of, noticing how he used to do it when you asked him for his opinions on some of your uglier fashion choices throughout high school. 

“You sure?” You add, “I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble with your boss or anything. Especially now that you live in this fancy-ass townhouse, your mortgage payments must be crazy.”

Mark shakes his head with a smile, reaching for his glasses and putting them back on. “They’re not that crazy…”

You give him a knowing look, his living room alone is practically the size of most apartments in the city. But you didn’t expect anything less from him, he’d always worked hard for everything he had. He graduated with flying colours, found a high-paying job after college, bought a nice house; and you’re sure that one day he’d secure himself a nice girl to live in it with him. 

What you’re trying to say is Mark Lee had something to show for himself, which is more than you can say after you took a more leisurely approach to college. Mark had always worked a little too hard for your liking, or maybe you just worked a little too easy for his. Either way, he’s the one with his life put together and you’re just…standing barefoot in his living room, looking a mess, with a bottle of alcohol in your hand.  

“Well then, since I’m not imposing, how ‘bout a drink?” You suggest, waving the bottle of wine in the air in an attempt to win him over and distract yourself from your own reality. As shitty as it sounds, you come to Mark to escape the chaos of your own life, so dwelling on comparisons isn't something you want to keep doing.

For Mark though, he knows he shouldn't indulge in a drink – after all, the work assignment on his desk is practically begging to be completed. But he's always struggled to say no to you, and he's well aware that you know that too. It's why you're so comfortable knocking on his door in the early hours of the morning when most of the city is asleep; you know he'll always open up for you.

And that’s exactly why he’s heading into his kitchen and rooting through his cabinets until he finds two wine glasses. 

When he comes back into the living room, he finds you standing by the fireplace. It's not unusual, considering you were freezing just moments ago on his doorstep from your attire. However, what catches him off guard is that you're not warming yourself by the fire; instead, you're holding a picture – Mark's favourite one – taken by his parents on the day you got your wisdom teeth removed.

"No way you kept this," you groan, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.

"Of course I did. You were completely out of it on anaesthesia, going on about marrying Lee Taemin," Mark replies.

You squeeze your eyes shut, remembering the way you sent the hot senior you had a crush on in your freshman year a DM in your high state. “Oh gosh, don’t remind me.”

But truthfully, that's not the sole reason Mark kept that picture, or why he still chooses to display it despite having hundreds of clearer, better ones of the two of you together. He treasures that particular photo because it was the day you told him you loved him – although you never brought it up again. Mark pins it down to you not remembering from the anaesthetic, but that photo, it’s the last slither of hope he has left. 

“Well, I must say, Mark Lee, you have had quite the glow-up since your high school days,” you laugh putting the picture back on the fireplace. 

Mark can't believe his cheeks are warming up as if he were that same teenager – pathetic, he thinks. And he wants to say the same about you, but he hardly recognizes you. You're a completely different person from the girl in the picture, and while he loves you, truly, it doesn't change the fact that you're a mess sitting before him.

To his defence, it's impossible not to notice it; he saw it the moment he opened the door and saw your smudged makeup and raw eyes – you’re defeated. And even though he knows precisely why, he still asks.

 "What are you doing here, Y/N?"

You swallow, “Can’t I just come and see my best friend?”

“No, you can’t.”

His words carry a double-edged sword, both an accusation directed at you and an expression of the hurt he's experienced from your repeated instances of ghosting him over the last few months. 

You begin pouring yourself a generous glass of the wine you brought along. If you were going to have this conversation with him, you weren't about to do it sober.

“Yuta broke up with me.”

And there it is. You always do this –  get a new boyfriend and forget about your childhood best friend. And the minute the asshole in question dumps you, you always want him to pick up the pieces. 

And Mark hadn't forgotten the name Yuta; in fact, it had been seared into his mind ever since you posted a picture with him on your Instagram account, looking all lovey-dovey. And then Mark had gone into full stalker mode – because of course he did – he always did. But the thing with Yuta was that he was one step ahead. One particularly awful day at work, when Mark wanted to check your account, he found himself blocked.

Honestly, Mark doesn’t blame Yuta, he’d be lying if he said all his thoughts about you were completely innocent, but you’d never blocked him over a guy before. He's accustomed to the isolation, the ghosting, and the personality changes that come with you getting a new boyfriend; but being digitally blocked by you was a new low. It's safe to say Mark had already formed his opinion about your new ex-boyfriend: he was definitely an asshole.

"Why did he break up with you?" he asks, not out of genuine concern, but rather out of selfish relief. Still, he knows it's the right thing to do.

“He found someone else, or I found him fucking someone else,” you spit bitterly, “and do you know what? That fucker didn’t even give me a chance to grab my shoes before he kicked me out.”

You take a long gulp from your glass, the liquid burning slightly as it goes down your throat, and then you flop back on the sofa. Your movements are heavy, weighed down by more than just the alcohol in your system. As you sink into the cushions, a wave of emotion crashes over you, threatening to engulf you completely. It's a moment of vulnerability that you've been holding back, and tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You try to fight them, push down the rising tide of emotions, but it's futile. 

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he reassures, quickly taking a seat beside you on the sofa and resting a gentle hand on your thigh, where he begins to rub small, soothing circles into your skin, just like he used to do. "You can stay here tonight."

You groan into your hands, you can’t believe you're acting like this – pathetic – and it has you immediately defensive. “Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter, so quiet Mark almost misses it.

“Like what?”

“All judgy.”

“When have I ever judged you, Y/N?” he questions, his tone gentle, “I’m always your shoulder to cry on, we’re past the judgement stage,”

"I don't cry that much," you protest weakly.

“Well…” he starts, that teasing look in his eye you love.

In response, you push his chest playfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Because you’ve missed this – missed him.

And that’s the part that always stings the most: how effortlessly you two slip back into each other's company. Despite not speaking for a couple of months, it's like you didn’t lose any time. And perhaps that's why Mark finds it so easy to keep forgiving you, and why you find it so natural to slide in and out of his life and then expect him to mend your broken heart.

Mark grabs the hand you used to push his chest and looks at you seriously but gently, “Seriously, Y/N, you can just be yourself with me, just like it’s always been.”

His words resonate with you, stirring something deep within the pit of your stomach. You meet his gaze with glossy eyes, and in that moment, you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion. Without hesitation, you lean in and press your lips to his. 

It's a tender kiss, soft and sweet just how you expected Mark’s lips to be. And he melts into it just as much as you do, if not more so. It’s like he craves it, like he’s hungry for it. And he is because you – his first-ever crush, the girl he’s been in love with since he could remember – is pressing her lips to his. The teenager in him is jumping up and down right now.

Just as you're about to deepen the kiss, your face bumps into his glasses, causing both of you to pause as they sit askew on his face. Mark blushes and begins to fumble with them, but just as he's about to take them off, your hand wraps around his and stops him.

“Mmmm. Keep ‘em on,” you bite your lip as you reposition them on the bridge of his nose. “I like them.”

“I didn't realize you had a glasses kink,” he teases.

“Neither did I...just like them on you.”

That triggers something inside of him because his tongue lightly sweeps over your bottom lip where he nips it with his teeth. One of his hands reaches up to cup the nape of your neck; the other finds its way to the hem of your dress, intrusive fingers brushing over your bare skin, making you gasp.

He stills.

Did he just fuck this up? Was he reading it wrong?

There’s a fraction of a beat where you just breathe against him, and Mark feels a twinge of self-consciousness. And just when he’s about to apologise, you dive into him and all reservations are thrown out the window as you give him the green light. 

His hand wraps around your waist and he pulls you over his lap to straddle him. It gives him all the access he needs to grab your thighs and lift you up as he stands. He keeps your lips connected as he wraps your legs around his waist, pressing into you just enough to feel the swelling in his crotch. 

If you thought he was hungry for it before, now he’s starving. 

Your arms wrap around his neck, your breasts crushing against his chest. Your hips start to move against him without any control, almost like it’s instinctual. You suck on his tongue and he groans. And God if it isn’t the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. 

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N,” he says into your mouth, “Are we really doing this?”

You smile against his lips, “We’re doing this.”

You both take that as a confirmation to go harder, kissing like you’ve been starved of each other for years, and Mark supposes you have. His body moulds to yours and you feel his hand wander to your ass making your dress lift as he carries you out of the living room. 

When you see him heading for the staircase you know exactly where his head is at, and when he opens his bedroom door with you still in his arms, you feel wetness pool right between your legs. 

He drops you on the bed so gently and carefully not to hurt you – because even though he’s so goddamn horny right now – he’s still Mark. When your back hits the whites of his sheets it gives you a moment to look at him, his chest is heaving, lips swollen and cheeks flush. His hair is tousled and it makes your blood run cold. 

He looks like pure sex. Hot sex. Good, filthy, all-night-long sex. And you want him, more than you’ve ever wanted any man before in your life.

Mark kneels on the bed in the space between your legs, coming close enough to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, and you wonder if he sees you the same way you see him right now. He brushes your cheek gently with his thumb and you lean into his caress and plant a small kiss against his palm. 

His lips meet yours again as his hands slip between you two. They glide up your leg, to your stomach to under your dress, where he finds you not wearing a bra as your nipples pebble under his rough hands. 

Instinctively, your arms stretch over your head, reluctantly breaking the kiss so he can tug the material off and over you, lips crashing back together as you roll your hips into his with desperation and need. 

Mark groans when he pulls away to look at your naked chest in front of him, it’s a picture he thinks. One that needs to be hung up in an art gallery or some shit – actually now that he thinks about it – he hates the idea of you being on display like that for someone else.

His fingers wind themselves in your hair, a delightful shiver skittering along your body as you soften into his touch. You can’t help but grin suggestively as you look him in the eyes, top teeth holding down on your lower lip as your hands creep low enough to hook into the band of his pyjama bottoms. 

Mark practically whimpers as your hand teases at the elastic, “Please.”

The plea has you smiling wider, knowing exactly what he wants. You remove his bottoms without a second thought, the same time he strips from his t-shirt. His cock springs free, thick and long and straining so eagerly for you. 

You get a thrill knowing you’re the one who’s made him this hard and that makes you want to please him badly. So you do, taking control and flipping him over to be underneath you. He gasps at the motion and then he almost cums untouched at the sight of you kneeling between his legs, lowering yourself down just enough to kiss the tip of his cock.

The teasing touch sends a chill right through him. He leans back on his arms just to see you, eyebrows strained as he concentrates, glasses slightly fogged – he wants to remember exactly what you look like like this. You’re intoxicating, strong enough for him to get drunk on.

“So pretty,” he murmurs under a soft breath and you blush.

You lick your lips, focusing on his cock, flattening your tongue from the base all the way up to his head, where the slit is leaking with pre-cum. You hear him suck in a breath and it makes you smile. 

You like knowing he’s needy, teasing him to ignite small reactions, but continuing to do so would only be hell for you; because right now you want nothing more than to suck on his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever taste. 

You wrap your hand around his shaft and don’t waste another second before your mouth is sinking to suck on him. You manage all you can – there’s a lot of him – and use your fingers to move up the length you don’t swallow, stroking him painstakingly slow.   

As you kiss and lick at him, Mark is going mad because it’s your mouth. Your mouth is wet and hot and currently wrapped around him good enough that his thighs have started trembling. 

It’s not long before his hands find your hair and he helps you to slide more of his cock inside, knowing exactly when to stop instead of making you take too much. But he’s big and thick and your mouth barely covers him – which he hates – it feels like a reminder that he’s not made for you. 

The thought has him letting out a growl, which catches you by surprise from the whimpering mess he was seconds ago. The grip he has on your hair tightens. 

“Fuck, Y/N, suck me harder…” The dirty words sound dominant at first, but they trail off as you continue sucking on him, a lot like you’re melting him, and you fucking love that idea. 

The thought of having him be so desperate for you is making you wetter and needier. And it’s that need that has you reaching up to graze his nipples with your fingers. Mark finds the chill of your cold digits distinctive, responding with a mewl that rings between the walls of his room. 

You can't believe such a small touch makes him so…responsive. 

Every tug on his sensitive peak is enough to pull a sound from his pink lips, enough to make him writhe his hips and edge his cock further into your mouth. 

You twist and pinch and watch as Mark’s face twists in the feeling, mouth dropping open to release a stuttered breath. It’s so sensual - so carnal. 

You pull off his cock with a sickening pop, looking up at him with spit-covered lips. “Who would have guessed your nipples would be so sensitive?” 

Your hand stays at a steady pace, stroking him slowly as you speak. Mark shivers from the loss of your warm mouth around him, but there’s still a part of him that’s glad you stopped. But not because he doesn’t want this — he does, so badly — but because he was starting to feel his cock’s overwhelming urge to twitch with his orgasm. And there was no fucking way he was going to cum before he’d even buried himself inside you. 

In a cooling breath, he replies, “Only sensitive for you.” 

Warmth flushes on your face, and the arousal soaking between your legs begs to soak his cock. He’s so cute when he is all red-faced and whiny, eyes closed tightly as his brows knit together. And you suppose his own state of neediness triggers yours. 

“Want you inside of me now, Mark,” you pant, “Need it.” 

“Fuck~” his voice drips like honey as he moans, hands moving to grab at your waist to flip you under him.

You push yourself further up the bed and he crawls after you. It’s only now he realises the lace barrier still on your skin standing between you and his cock. Your panties are dark blue and they look so pretty against your skin.

He leans down, kissing the inside of your knee, letting his fingers slip up your ankle to cradle your smooth calf.

“Sometime tonight,” you tease.

But Mark likes to go slow, he likes to savour in your sight, study your body to remember every detail for his next late-night fantasy. He wants to bask in you being so bare and so ready for him — not your ex-boyfriend — him. 

He skims his hands further up your bare legs until he slides your underwear down and disregards them somewhere on the floor. Then, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing your chests together skin to skin. He likes it like that — being so close and so intimate with you that it's almost raw. 

He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom. You don’t take your eyes off him once as he rips it open with his teeth and rolls it down the entirety of his length. Heat pools in your stomach because this is happening — and that makes your pussy throb. 

He keeps his eyes on yours as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside of you, breathless. You can’t help but sink your head back into the mattress, eyes closing.

“Eyes open.”

You lazily blink them open.

“Eyes always on me pretty girl,” he demands, thrusting into you. 

You’ve never felt anything like him. You feel so full. He’s everywhere. Even your lungs and head are filled with him.

“Taking me so well pretty,” he groans.

His praise has you gushing, whining with the feeling of him stuffing you. It’s not awkward like the first time having sex with someone can be. It feels like you’ve always been doing this.

“You’re okay?” he asks.

He sounds calm, but you can see the restraint that he’s barely holding on to by the tightening in his jaw, and the tension in his brow.

“More than okay. Just fuck me, Mark. Please.”

He brushes his lips over yours and whispers, “Oh I plan to.”

You smile, but it’s quickly gone as he starts to move, fucking you slowly, then quicker and quicker, and harder and faster. The headboard is banging against the wall, surely denting it, and you know if the neighbours weren’t already pissed about your knocking they’d definitely be pissed now. 

And selfishly, you can’t find it in you to give a shit because he’s like a machine, working thrusts into you at all the right angles to elicit sweet moans from your lips. 

You’re panting and groaning like a bitch in heat. Mind fuzzy with euphoria as your flesh slaps loudly together. If college you knew that Mark Lee, your best friend, was about to give you an orgasm she would have laughed in your face. 

But, God, the man can fuck. 

He urges you onto his cock harder, clit rubbing against his pelvic bone, each time your hips connected in powerful thrusts. 

“Oh God, Mark,” you try your best to keep your eyes open, but the pleasure is threatening to consume you. 

“That’s it. Cum on my cock pretty girl. I won’t come until you do.”

The idea makes you want to hold off forever, let him fuck you for hours just to bask in the feeling of your closeness. However, your body disagrees with that sentiment, and suddenly you’re cumming hard. 

“Shit,” he hisses, feeling your walls flutter around his length. 

Mark doesn’t slow down though, he fucks you through your orgasm like a madman, hammering deep to the hilt to chase his high. 

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N…shit…fuck…” He growls a sound so erotic in your ear, you feel like you might cum again.

He sags onto you, his body heavy but not crushing, his skin warm against yours. You touch your fingers to his cheek. 

“I don’t think I can move,” he says, breathless.

“So, don’t.”

The tips of Mark’s ears turn red at the suggestion, but eventually, he figures he needs to move — much to his dismay. He eases out of you, catching hold of the condom and pulling it off his cock. He rolls off of you and out of bed to put it in the trash before he’s back next to you, arms engulfing you in a hug. 

You look up at him and he presses a kiss on your lips before pulling back. “Are you staying?” 

“Do you want me to?”

“I asked first.” He says.

“I’ll stay if you want me to stay.”

Liar.

Mark swallows, “Okay well, I’ll get us breakfast in the morning then, yeah?”

He says it but he knows come the morning you’ll have slipped out in the middle of the night because this isn’t the first time he’s had sex with you. 

Mark has always been your rebound. Yes, he’s your best friend, but he’s also your favourite hookup call when your boyfriend’s being an asshole.

And he knew that when he first heard you knocking on his front door. He knows you'll never change – and strangely, he's content with that, he’s accepted it. Because even though he knows you'll move on again, he doesn't mind keeping your secrets safe until the next time when you want a man to heal your heart.

Because Mark will settle for being a pity fuck if it means he gets to be a constant in your life.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #mark lee smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #nct imagines #nct hard hours #kpop smut #nct oneshot

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (1)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: two, three, four, five

Word Count: 2,6K (i was inspired by god itself)

Warnings: none, lot of context (i promise the next chapter will have way less filling), light flirting

A/N: I HAVE ALREADY THOUGHT ABOUT AT LEAST 5 CHAPTERS MORE, I HOPE SOMEONE LIKES THIS FIRST ONE BECAUSE I'M ON MY KNEES FOR THIS DAMN CLOWN. Let me know if you wanna be tagged in other parts! (Side note: i'm spanish, so if there's some mistakes, i'm trully sorry, i don't have beta readers).

It's not enough to suddenly find herself locked in a box with 3 idiots she met a matter of hours ago, no; To make it worse, as it could not be otherwise, it turns out that she is in a bloody circus, ''kidnapped'' by a band of pirates that she recognizes as soon as she sees the red and white tent over their heads, the distressed faces of the poor people that make up the audience, and the costumes of the band around them.

She sighs, and wonders what the hell she's doing there despite knowing perfectly well what kind of decisions have led her to that damned place. Wanna know what happened? Let's recap, shall we?

(Y/N) (S/N). That name doesn't sound familiar, right? Very few know it but the reputation that accompanies the person who responds to it is very famous throughout the 4 seas. She is not a bounty hunter, nor a marine, neither a pirate or a pirate hunter, like the green-haired hottie with whom she finds herself in such trouble, or a thief, like the ginger who she bet, will escape running without looking back at the slightest opportunity she finds.

No, she's a mercenary. She doesn't work solely for money, otherwise she would go against the most bloodthirsty and ruthless of each sea, and that doesn'tt interest her, because she would put herself on the radar of both the pirates and the marines.

No, she is contacted through different channels, none of them direct, and if the job interests her, amuses her, or even piques her curiosity, she accept it. She goes after all kinds of people, whether they are pirates or marines, gangsters at the top of the terror scale or criminals who, like her, tried to keep a low profile.

However, and as we were saying, despite trying to remain anonymous, she is good at her job, a born strategist with an incredible facility to adapt and blend in with her surroundings to sneak into the most remote places, so her existence inevitably began to be noticed along the seas, rumors about this young mercenary with an angelic face, who only responded to her own morals and of whom few escaped to tell the tale.

And this is how she met that group of weirdos who found each others through the power of the plot's convenience; her last assignment was to steal the map from the Grand Line. There are not many, these kept safe and protected in large fortresses throughout the globe, and among all those that she could have tried to steal, she made the horrible decision of going for the one that was closest to her, encountering those three idiots in the crossfire of the disaster that unfolded in Shells Town.

How did she end up giving up the assignment and at that precise moment there, with them?  Simple: Luffy piqued her curiosity. And there are few things stronger than (Y/N)'s curiosity.

"Hey, I know you. I saw your wanted poster in Shells Town, you're the clown guy. Umm, uh… Binky, right?" Luffy exclaimed, as confident of himself as usual.

Buggy, she mentally corrected, arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at the same time the clown corrected loudly and dramatically listed his many nicknames. Which she was sure, only he called himself.

''Wow, you have a lot of names. I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are.” The audience gasp. There's confusion in the boy's face, and an almost psychopatic tic in the clown's one. ''What did you just say?'' Buggy asks lowly. ''Just that everyone knows who you are.'' Luffy repeats.

''Nose!? Are you making fun of my nose!?’’

Then came the slap, like the one someone usually gives when a friend is trying to steal their food or touch something they definitely shouldn't. Buggy is killing the straw hat boy with his eyes but the gesture is so… innocent.  She expected threats with knives, to be honest.

And because of the unexpected, she almost let a laugh escape in the form of a cough but she controlled herself fast enough to not grab unnecessary attention to her.

''What's real is...'' Buggy resumes the conversation, getting some distance with Luffy to walk around the rest too.  ’’I’ve been scheming for months to steal that map from old Axe-Hand moron…’’ (Y/N) sees how he approaches her, but she didn't expect him to close the distance between each other so much, his nose almost touching her own, sharp blue eyes fixed on her from a slightly lower perspective. The truth is... that she also doesn't know how to tell if that nose is real or not, but now she really wants to touch it to find out. Dear God, what a realistic texture. It’s incredible.

Pressing her lips together in a contained expression as she shakes her head, she raises an eyebrow, letting him know that the joke wasn't as funny as he hoped, and he clucks, accepting defeat in such good humor that no one would say, that is a kidnapping and someone would end up dead by the end of the day.

She heard of him. His reward was not one of the highest but neither one of those that go unnoticed in the East Blue. He was also an eccentric, of course people talked about the blue-haired, red-nosed clown who terrified his victims in a macabre way. Those who survived ended up traumatized.

He is, or at least looks, younger than she imagined, and he fit right in with the urban legends of evil clowns kidnapping children and then dismembering them. She wonders, silently, thoughtful eyes scanning his face and body language from a distance, if this is some softie on the inside with high aspirations in life who was unfortunate enough to bump into someone who traumatized him and hence all this show and facade of the cruel and heartless clown -to protect himself as the good cliché he seems- or if, on the contrary, he is, simply and plainly, a yandere who craves attention no matter how he has to obtain it.

If she remembers correctly, there was also a rumor that he ate a devil fruit. Just like Luffy, which it doesn't take long for the clown to discover after Zoro tries to save the situation by showing off his reputation -obviously it doesn't work- and Nami does exactly what (Y/N) predicted. Not her fault, either, she doesn't owe any of them anything at all.

''Okay. Here ends the theatrics.’’ The lights go out and it’s then that everyone can small the disaster in the air. A chill runs down the back of (Y/N), who tends to infiltrate without being seen and avoids, whenever possible, a direct encounter; hand-to-hand combat is not exactly his specialty. And given the circumstances is impossible for her to know if the daggers she usually hides in the side of his combat boots -for emergencies like this one- are still there. ''I know one of you has my map, and I'm gonna get it back. What was it you said, Rubber Boy? That it was in a safe place?”

How long were they unconscious before? Enough to hijack the ship, get to land, and move 4 dead weight bodies to that circus, locking them in a box. By that point she would bet some member of the gang would have thoroughly searched the ship, and them too. Disgusting.

Buggy takes a last, attentive look at both Zoro and Nami, ruling out that one of the two has the map because when the girl tried to flee, Luffy was not shocked thinking that perhaps she would steal it from him. Which leaves the two of them, Luffy and her, alone with him.

''So, please'' the clown gestures to his subordinates with his head. ''make these two guests uncomfortable in the green room. I’m gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal and…’’ His eyes jump to her, tilting his head to the side with genuine curiosity. ''this beauty that was incapable of taking her eyes off me.''

Fuck. Was it that obvious?

''Doll, you are the only one who hasn't opened your mouth yet and I don't think it's because you’re a shy little flower.'' He begins, circling around her like an animal hunting its prey, analyzing it, hoping to see a chink of weakness to attack. ''Are you bored?'' He asks almost in a whisper near her ear. ''Is that it? Are you so, so bored that you don't think it's worth enough interacting with the rest of us?'' Breaking away from her when he realizes she doesn't falter, he smiles a huge, threatening smile, looking her up and down in such a way that it almost makes her feel dirty. "Or maybe you're the one who has my map, and you're quiet to try not to attract /my/ attention."

She? The map? Wearing such tight pants and top? Yeah, maybe up her ass, but she's not the one who is going to tell him otherwise because if he, or one of his subordinates, comes to search her, she could take advantage of the opportunity to steal some sort of weapon from them.

In particular from Buggy; (Y/N) saw the knives he keeps in his coat and… she wouldn't mind taking a closer look at that interesting nose.

"Busted." She finally admits with a lopsided smile, raising both eyebrows when she sees the surprise on the clown's face. He didn't expect such a cocky response, did he? "I'm not the type of person who likes to attract attention, the spotlight is for others who are more... flashy." She pronounces it honeyedly, repeating the same nickname he used before, pointing at him with a gesture of her chin. "However, I'm not going to tell you where the map is. If you want to find it, come and search for it yourself."

Shrugging her shoulders, she stretches out both arms in a gesture that invites him to come closer. Bold, he thinks, more than pleased with this unexpected turn of events, taking some steps in her direction. She adds once more: "although I would be surprised if you hadn't already done it during the time we have been unconscious"

"Me?" He points at himself, stopping right in front of her. "Take advantage of a defenseless young lady?" He almost sounded offended if it wasn't for the shit eating grin and the eager way he was scanning her body now. "What kind of degenerate do you take me for?"

She scoffs, and Buggy, unsure, seems to consider -for some long seconds- whether or not to do the job himself, (Y/N) being too calm for how helpless she seems. But surely, he knows, she doesn't have any weapons on her; his subordinates were in charge, as she said, of searching all of them as soon as they were brought to the circus.

In the end he gives up, because he would be damned if he dared to refuse to thoroughly touch this mysterious woman who may, just may, have his map hidden somewhere. He strongly doubts it, tho.

Soon enough, he moves again, standing then behind her, and without asking permission, he doesn’t need it either, his hands start roaming her shoulders and sides slowly, making sure to feel anything weird between her clothes and the skin underneath. Like the fucking map, folded until it is nothing more than a small piece of paper easy to hide. 

Because that is the whole point of that scene, right?

"Go on, be my guest." she says sarcastically, trying to stay calm and breathe slowly, because (Y/N) likes to pretend to be made of stone, but not /that much/. The pressure of those gloves against her already tight clothes and the hungry way she knows those -green? blue? difficult to say with those circus lights- eyes are watching her every move make her heart beat a bit faster in something she’d call /the average amount of nervousness when a known, wanted pirate search for something we wants while threatening to kill you if he doesn’t find it/.

Buggy, on the other hand, is so engrossed in his task that his usual cocky smile has disappeared a few seconds ago; he is waiting to feel a change in the girl's body language to be able to guess if she has it or if, on the contrary, this search will be saved in his memory as no more than a small pleasurable pause after all the stress that the goddamn map is putting him through. Because he can't deny it, she's actually a beauty, and in other circumstances he wouldn't mind getting to know her in a funnier way. At all.

Inhaling deeply, wetting his red lips with his tongue, he lets the air out slowly, tilting his head to the side to see her better. He should hurry up and stop making that scene as intimate as it's becoming, audience and all, but he's a thorough man. Or that’s the excuse -explanation- he will give to whoever dares to ask.

"Where the hell did you hide my map?" He asks melodiously as he finishes searching her torso, his right hand starting to go a little lower, getting dangerously close to her hipbone when (Y/N)'s right hand flies up and catches his wrist between her fingers, stopping him dead in his tracks. She couldn't help it, she acted on autopilot, she is not ready to be the main character of a porn movie with audience included letting him roaming all around as he pleases. "Not between my legs, so keep lowering your hands and I'll cut them off." she threatens, turning her face to look at him standing behind her.

Right back, as if those words were magical or something, the huge, shit eating smile of his returns to the lips of the unstable clown, and without letting go, he makes her spin, facing her with both hands on her waist, strongly keeping her in place, sharp eyes fixed on her, and without realizing it, she stops breathing for a second. "You promise?" He whispers, pleads almost, in an amused, delighted tone of voice after such a threat. She was way interesting than he expected, not as shy or scared as an unarmed girl like her should be. He likes that. A lot.

However, he has -sadly- things to do and he did in fact, already lost time with her. His eyes betraying him the moment they land on the girl's lips, Buggy winks at her with a cocky expression and pulls away suddenly, raising both arms "Another disappointment, how many more can our audience endure? You’re the only one left, Rubber Boy, don't let me down." He points him, moving closer, while (Y/N) just stays there where he left her, wondering what the fuck just happened and why does her heart run so fast now.

Adrenaline, probably.

"Take her with the others" he ends up saying to a couple of members of his gang, to which she responds by moving on her own in the direction of where they have taken Zoro and Nami before, preventing them from guiding her by force and discovering the knife she stole from Buggy when he got so damn close to her, and which she secretly hid between the waistband of her pants and her shirt.

Risky, she could cut herself with the smallest movement at the least expected moment, but it was way worse to see herself unarmed.

Buggy, infatuated, takes one last look at her and, raising one hand, waves his fingers in the air with a huge smile on his face as he says goodbye to her.

"See you later, love."

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #op buggy #one piece live action #buggy x you #buggy the clown fanfiction #one piece #one piece x reader

[myfictionaldreams]

I saw your post about poly marauders x reader inspo. What about angst and fluff where the reader is working really hard and doesn't take care of herself? She ends up fainting, hitting her head and having a seizure. (This is common for me.) The boys freak out and rush her to the infirmary. Maybe they take her back after she's given the all-clear and take care of her.

-🐍

Working Hard // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

A/N: hello, thank you so much for this request! I hope I've been able to write the information about seizures ok, I personally don't have them so was worried I'd get the information wrong but hopefully, this is alright!

Tags: angst, fluff, fainting, head injury, seizures, not looking after yourself, anxiety/crying, emotional hurt, protective marauders, cuddling/kissing etc.

Words: k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The library was fairly vacant of students as it approached the evening time, not that you’d noticed. At one swift glance, anyone could have seen the state of disarray that you were in. Ink stained your fingers and clothes, the whites of your eyes were bloodshot and dry from the lack of blinking, sweat on your brow and hair unkept from the number of times you’d brushed it out of your eyes.

Not to mention the disorganised surroundings you were sitting in with multiple stacks of books covering the desk space with different length parchment paper, ink pots and a single quill also messing up the area.

“How long has she been like this?”, Sirius asked Lily, concern etching deep into his face as he’d just arrived at the library following his day of lessons. Lily briefly looked up at Sirius with the same look of worry on her face from where she sat at a different desk, having been there most of the day just to keep an eye on you as she knew you were slowly spiralling into madness.

“She’s been like this since this morning. I’ve tried to convince her to have a break but she just wants to finish the work. I’m kind of getting worried about her, she hasn’t stopped in hours and keeps pushing my glasses of water away saying she’ll have it later but she’s yet to have any”, Lily explained to Sirius who was now clenching the strap of his school bag so tightly in his hands that his knuckles turned a ghastly shade of white.

“Thanks, Evans, I’ll stay with her don’t worry”, Sirius explained, patting his friend on the shoulder as she stood, having packed her bags ages ago but was reluctant to leave you on your own. “If you see Moony or Prongs, could you tell them where we are please?”

“No worries, I hope you can get through to her”.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head hard enough that his shoulder-length, silky hair flew in all directions as he walked over to your desk. You didn’t so much as flinch when the chair next to you scrapped along the stone floor as he dumped his bag onto the floor.

As he began to talk to you, he kept his voice calm, not wanting to frighten you out of the deep focus you were in. “Darling? Is everything alright?” When you again didn’t respond to having heard his arrival, he reached across and took the quill out of your fierce grip. This snapped you out of your trance as your head whipped in his direction, body jumping in a startle at finding one of your boyfriends casually sitting next to you. Your heart was already racing before the jump scare are you looked between Sirius and the quill you so desperately needed.

“What are you doing? I’m not finished my work yet Sirius and I am not in the mood to mess around, I just want to get it finished”, you demanded to him, reaching out with a trembling hand that had Sirius’ worries increasing.

“What was the last time that you even ate anything? Or had a drink of water?” Sirius asked whilst continuing to hold your quill out of your reach.

Shaking your head in annoyance, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, a couple of hours ago maybe, I can remember. Now please, can I have my quill back!”

Sirius looked at the mess on the desk surrounding you, “Honey, this assignment isn’t even due for another week. You’ve got plenty of time to finish it another day but you need to look after yourself. Let’s have a little break, maybe go and get something to eat and drink and then depending on how you’re feeling, we could potentially finish this later”.

The marauder spoke calmly and slowly, taking in all the signs of your declining health. There were only a few occasions where you had been like this, neglecting to look after yourself and it usually ended with you crying from exhaustion or sleeping a whole day away feeling ill so he needed to be a good protector and make sure this didn’t get any worse but he feared that it was already at that stage anyway with how reluctant you were to listen to his advice.

“No, you aren’t listening to me! I don’t need any of that right now, I just need to finish this today because there’s still the potions assignment due in two days and I need to plot this week's stars for astronomy. There’s also the herbology that I haven’t even started yet so I don’t have time to go for your breaks! Just give it back to me Sirius!” As you were beginning to raise your voice, you caught the attention of the handful of other students who were studying. Sirius didn’t react to being shouted at, especially as it was never something you’d done before, he knew he was getting to the point of no return and was unsure just what it was that he was supposed to do. Let you carry on? Force feed you a snack and make you have a break but then would that anger you more?

Thankfully backup had arrived in the form of Remus and James. “What’s going on here?” the taller Marauder asked, his scarred face flicking back and forth between Sirius and where you were glaring at him.

“We were just about to have a little break”, Sirius began to explain with caution but you were quick to interrupt.

“No we aren’t Sirius! I’m fine, just let me continue other I’ll forget what I’m going to write!”. You were breathing heavily now, like you’d just run up a flight of stairs and Sirius couldn’t tell if it was because of your anger or just another symptom of how worn down you were getting.

It looked like you were close to a panic attack with the way you were reacting irrationally and the two Marauders that were standing took a protective step forward, placing their bags onto the floor.

“My Love”, James spoke carefully, “just take a deep breath for us, okay? We’ll just have a small break and then we’ll help you finish this assignment”.

Your hateful gaze turned to him, “I don’t need help James”.

The way you spoke didn’t falter him in any way as he continued, “Why don’t we just quickly get a drink of water and some fresh air and then we can come back-”

“Don’t talk to me like a child James, I know my limits. I’m just studying, I’m fine, I just need to finish this, but you’re all prolonging it!” You glared at all three of them, not thinking clearly at all and when Sirius once again held the quill away from you, you snapped. “You know what? Fine. Keep the quill. I’ve got plenty more in my dormitory which luckily doesn’t let guys in so I can continue this in some peace and quiet.”

You gathered as many books as possible into a messy pile, bundling them into your arms, along with your parchment paper.

“Wait, Sweetheart, just give us a moment-”. Sirius began reaching forward as you stood abruptly.

One minute you were taking a step forward and then next, it felt like the floor was moving, your eyes unfocused as the books dropped to the floor, swiftly followed by your body as you fainted, accidentally knocking your temple on the corner of your desk as you fell.

Remus, James and Sirius all lurched forward trying to soften your fall but to no avail, as they all watched you hit your head and collapse to the floor However the panic didn’t end there as your body began to convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you didn’t respond to shouts.

“Shit! Go and get Madam Pomfrey!”, James demanded to Sirius who was out of his chair and sprinting within a second as a crowd began to form of scared students. This didn’t stop James though as he remained calm, kneeling next to your head but holding out a hand for Remus, “Hand me your jumper”. Remus pulled the clothing over his head and handed it to his boyfriend who balled it up and gently placed it under your head. “It’s ok baby, it’s going to be ok, it’ll be over soon, you’re safe, everything with be alright”.

With each word that he spoke, he remained calm, even managing to loosen your tie so that it didn’t restrict your breathing as you eventually calmed with your convulsions and remained unmoving on the floor, breathing heavily.

“Remus, help me roll her onto her side”, he asked the man who was also on his knees next to you, looking paler than usual. He followed James’ movements until you were lying in the recovery position, your hair carefully being moved out of your face so that they could assess your head injury as well. Thankfully there was no cut or blood but the area had already begun to swell into a small bump.

Remus shook his head, trying to process anything that had just happened as he then gazed towards James. “How…how did you know what to do?”

“My mum had seizures, usually she takes some potions to stop them from happening but on rare occasions they still do so she and Dad have taught me what to do if they were to happen, It’s not like I’ve done much anyway”. James looked you over, as Remus shook his head in disbelief, feeling guilty that he hadn’t come and found you at an earlier time but just assumed you were doing your usual revision in the library.

Sirius soon arrived with Madam Pomfrey who did her own assessment and praised James for the bits of care that he provided like putting you into the recovery position. You were then moved to the Hospital wing where you remained asleep for the next 12 hours which is what you needed, lots of rest and sleep.

When you did eventually awake, the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains and you were disorientated and confused, being in an unknown area and alone, not remembering how or why you’d gotten there.

Thankfully the Matron was already working and hovering nearby so was able to come over and explain the events that had occurred whilst making sure you drank the numerous healing potions she’d decided you needed. With each glug of the horrible tasting, colourful concoctions, you could feel life beginning to pour back into your body, no longer feeling dehydrated or shaky, however, there was still some memory loss but she explained that was the side effect of the seizure. Your stomach twisted with guilt at not prioritising your health which was also the same sentiment expressed by Madam Pomfrey as she gave you a talking too as well about looking after yourself and making sure to take regular breaks, having food and drink nearby during long study sessions.

Finally, after she declared that you were safe to leave but only if you returned to the dormitory to rest for the next few days, she explained that James, Sirius and Remus had been by your side until late at night. Each of them outright refused to leave your side but as they all fell into their own emotional and physical exhaustion, Madam Pomfrey called for McGonagall who helped to send them to their beds.

The guilt now only increased tenfold at the thought of how worried they must have been. The Matron tried to encourage you to not worry about those emotions for now, but to go and rest and that you’d need to return every morning for additional potions and investigations for the seizure.

Every step towards the Gryffindor common room, nerves bubbled in your stomach, wondering if you should follow the woman's advice and just go to your own dormitory and sleep the day away or knock on the Marauders’ room and discuss what had happened.

Thankfully for your exhausted mind, you didn’t need to decide as soon as you entered the homely common room, the three of them were already rushing down the stairs, dressed in their casual clothes and looking like they were about to run somewhere. They were all startled to see you standing there, relief and worry expressed on each of their faces, along with dark circles under their eyes from the lack of sleep.

Hating the uncomfortable silence, you nervously twisted your fingers together, glancing at the floor, unable to hold their burning eye contact anymore. “Madam Pomfrey said I was okay to leave but said I needed to get some rest”.

Another wave of relief rushed through your boyfriends as they each visibly dropped the tension from their shoulders as they stepped forward. “How are you feeling?”, Remus asked carefully, not being able to watch your nervous twitches anymore as he grabbed your fingers and linked both of your hands with his.

“I feel fine”, you answered honestly, looking guilty up at them still through your lashes.

“What about your head?”, Sirius continued the question, standing to your left and stroking the strand of hair away from the area that he’d seen hit the corner of your desk.

“It doesn’t hurt at all but Pomfrey said those sorts of injuries are easy for her to fix anyway. I um, I don’t actually remember what happened, or even from the last few days but everything else is better, my head doesn’t hurt at all”.

James was the last to approach to your right and you were thankful to see a loving smile on his handsome face as he pushed the rim of his glasses up his nose whilst asking, “And what about the seizures?”

“She said they could happen again but it was mostly triggered because I hadn’t eaten, drank or slept properly and that I needed to be careful in the future. I think it’s something that I had dealt with in my childhood as I remember my mum saying that I used to have some sort of seizures but it’s been so long that I didn’t think it was an issue anymore. She also told me about what you did James and I just… I can’t thank you enough and I’m so so sorry for putting you all through this”. Your eyes were full of tears that quickly escaped and flowed down your cheeks.

James couldn’t watch you cry and rushed to wrap his arms around your body, cupping the back of your head to hold you against his warm, firm chest. Remus and Sirius also managed to join the cuddle. The three of them didn’t expect any sort of apology from you, the anger that had been there initially for you not looking after yourself had swiftly changed to worry and fear so just making sure you were okay was their only goal.

“Shh Sweetheart, please don’t cry. We’re just glad you’re safe. You scared us so much, all I could think about last night was having you in my arms again”, Remus calmed your cries down as he kissed your shoulder, trying not to unload too much of his worries onto you.

The three of them held you for long enough that other students began to wake and enter the common room, rushing past so as to not ruin the sentimental moment. As your sobs turned into hiccups and the tears stopped staining Sirius’ shirt, the long-haired Marauder pulled away to cup your cheeks. “Come on, it’ll do us all no good crying in the middle of the common room and you’re supposed to be resting and to be honest I think we could all do with a rest so let's go upstairs”.

Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you smiled and accepted his outstretched hand, his much larger palm engulfing yours as he gently tugged you along to the boys’ room. The sight of the magically enlarged bed only increased your exhaustion as your body seemed to slump with the need to crawl beneath the sheets.

Before you could do as you wished whilst still wearing your day clothes, James stepped behind, his arms around your waist and held you for a second, swaying slightly on the spot as he dipped to kiss your cheek. “Do you want my jumper? Might be more comfortable than what you’re wearing?” he asked with hope in his voice and you knew he always loved seeing you in his clothes.

Turning in his arms and stroking your fingers through his hair to brush it out of his face you nodded tiredly, “Yes please!”

James grinned, pecking your lips before swiftly pulling his jumper off and then helping you to underdress down to your underwear and helping you into his jumper. Remus and Sirius were already down to their boxers and in bed, Sirius in the centre with his arms open and you smiled in relief, crawling over his body and settling on top of his chest. Everything seemed to fall into place as James followed behind you and lay next to Sirius, all three of their arms wrapping around you like a weighted blanket and a breath later all four of you were asleep.

When you woke next, it was because something was tickling your nose. Squinting open your eyes, you were welcomed to the sight of Sirius’ silky hair completely covering your face and his warm breath only an inch away from yours. Laughing under your breath, being careful not to wake the Marauder, you brushed the strands out of yours and his face, tucking it behind his ear.

As your fingers settled back cuddled into your chest, Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed followed by him groaning and bringing your fingers back up to his hair. You giggled louder now as you began to play with his hair and scratch your nails against his scalp, loving the sweet smile on his pretty-boy face.

“You know Pads, asking her to pet you, isn’t what I’m sure Madam Pomfrey classed as resting”, James mused from across the room, no longer by your side. Peaking open your eyes once more, you lifted your head as Sirius flipped off James who was sitting across the room, playing with his gold snitch with a pile of food waiting beside him.

“Is that pancakes?” you asked hopefully, sitting up further by pushing off of Sirius’ chest. Remus who was also still resting on the bed perked up at his, opening one eye and rolling over, his hair sticking up in all directions nearly as dramatically as James’ as he looked for the food.

“It is indeed, and there’s also toast, sausages, eggs, bacon, fruit, anything you might need”.

The four of you repositioned on the bed, leaving space in the middle to carefully lay the trays of food that James had managed to steal from the kitchens and all ate until stomachs were full and happy.

“What time is it?”, Sirius asked, still trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

“Just after lunch, so we’ve only slept for a few hours but seeing as we missed breakfast I thought it might be a good idea to get some food into our systems”.

“Thanks, Prongs”, Remus said before taking another bite of his toast and looking in your direction. “How are you feeling after a bit more sleep?”

“Good, like nothing even happened, I feel like I’m back to normal”. Remus nodded at your words, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, causing you to sigh and place your fork back onto your plate that was balanced on your nap. “I know we need to discuss what has happened and I’d rather do it now instead of waiting”.

The three Marauders looked at each other, unsure of how to approach the subject before James took one for the team and spoke first. “So you said you don’t remember anything, is that still the case?”

“The last thing I remember is going to Potions on Monday afternoon which was apparently a few days ago, I don't remember anything up until waking up in the hospital wing”.

“Do you understand what’s happened though? And how serious it was?”, James continued, his usual light and laughter not present in his eyes and you had to look at your fingers holding onto your plate as you felt the intensity of his emotions.

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey explained everything and why I had the seizure. I know I hadn’t looked after myself that day, but sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in my assignments for classes and if I don’t do them as soon as they are given to me, I’ll run out of time to complete them and then I’ll fail and then they’ll kick me out of the school and-”.

A scarred, rough hand pulled the plate from your grip so that he could gently hold both of your hands, tipping your chin back so that you were looking up at him as Remus came through with his words of wisdom. “You know that’s just your anxiety talking, there’s no way they would ever kick a talented witch like you from Hogwarts. You’re nearly top of all classes, always help others with their work and get good grades on your own. But you really need to look after yourself. To even get to the point of fainting is so dangerous Sweetheart, imagine if we weren’t there when this all happened?”

It was Sirius who began talking next, “We aren’t saying you need to completely change your ways but you fought us so hard in the library to even just have a little break. From now on, maybe we should put a bottle of water and some snacks in your bag and please, if you’re studying, just give yourself a rest every hour or so, even if it's to have a walk around the library to stretch your legs. Is that ok?”

The way he was speaking to you so softly and kindly had your heart melting and you hated how quickly tears were in your eyes again. You were so thankful for them, expecting them to be angry in some sort of way but once again proving how much you loved them and they loved you.

Unable to form any words, you nodded your response towards Sirius who smiled and opened his arms for you to crawl into again, his hands rubbing up and down your spine, soothing the emotions away.

James sighed away his own anxieties, moving over to kiss the back of your head before clearing away the food, waving his wand and everything disappearing back to the kitchens. “Right, a day of relaxation coming your way my love”, he began, trying to cheer the atmosphere and already causing you to laugh through the tears. “We will be having regular naps throughout the day, and plenty of food that will be ready whenever we are, All I need to do is summon one of the house elves. We have books, Sirius record player, we could even venture down to the common room if we’re feeling adventurous. Oh! I also caught Lily on my way back from the kitchens and she gave me some fruity bubble bath that her muggle parents have sent her that’s supposed to be nice so a nice candlelight bath will be ready whenever you are Love”.

You were beaming at all three of them, “Thank you! For this and everything else you’ve ever done, thank you”.

James shifted closer so that he could peck your lips, slowly and with love. The action was repeated by Remus and Sirius as you all naturally linked together in a cocoon of warmth and safety as you all hugged each other.

“I love you”, you whispered against whichever one of their shoulders you were nuzzling into. The three of them promised their love back to you before deciding on the first plan of the day.

#poly!marauders #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #hp fluff #sirius black fluff #remus lupin fluff #james potter fluff #the marauders #marauders fluff #mine*

[strawbeerossi]

Jealousy

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever the team tracks down the unsub they are looking for, it’s up to reader to lure him out of the bar with nothing but her charm and charisma. Spencer however, just can’t stand watching it. He makes sure to make his feelings known to the reader later on. 

Content Warnings: Post-Prison!Spencer, Jealous!Spencer, BAU!reader, case details, coarse language, Dom!Spencer, kinda mean!Spencer, sub!reader, possessiveness, degradation, praising, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (F receiving), fingering, hair pulling, spitting, aftercare, fluff at the end

Word count: 3k 

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Well, here it is! Can I technically call this ‘Jealousy (Taylor’s Version)(From the Vault)’ ?

Spencer approached Emily, his brow furrowed with concern, as he held a file tightly in his hands. "Emily, we need to talk about Y/N's undercover assignment. I've been analyzing the data, and there are some significant risks involved that we need to address before we even think of sending her out there.” he began, his voice laced with urgency.

Emily, her expression serious yet attentive, met Spencer’s gaze. "I understand your concerns, Reid, but we've already vetted this operation thoroughly. Y/N is well-prepared and capable of handling herself," she responded, her voice steady and reassuring.

It wasn’t matters of him thinking that Y/N wasn’t prepared, it was him being worried because this unsub was taking women who fit her image description and killing them after doing horrible things to them. 

The male nodded, his worry still evident. "I know Y/N is skilled, but the circumstances surrounding this case are unusually complex. I just want to make sure we have contingency plans in place and that we're ready to support her in any way necessary," he explained, his analytical mind racing with potential scenarios. She could have a knife pulled on her and be forced out, this unsub could drug her by sticking her with something, he could kill her right there if he figured out she was a federal agent..

After being released from prison, Spencer became a different man. He used to be more composed, now however, he was more temperamental. It didn’t help that Y/N was his girlfriend, the need to protect her being obvious. Besides, who wants to see their partner talking with a man who was brutally stabbing women and doing horrible things to their corpses? Especially when each of those women could’ve been her twin. That put her in a high risk situation that wasn’t a guaranteed arrest. 

“Reid,” The Unit Chief let one hand come up to rub her face, the woman being tired of the argument. She could understand the worry and frustration, however this was Y/N’s job that she’d been doing for a good six years now. She knew the stakes as well as what she could or couldn’t handle.

“I promise that we will have this covered. We have surveillance all over the bar. Alvez, Simmons, and you are going to be inside, close enough to stop anything if things go too far.” She stressed the details, the woman just being exhausted explaining her decision continuously. “You aren’t changing my mind. I need you to understand that this decision was made with Y/N. You need to let her do her job.” 

   ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N walked into the dimly lit bar, her gaze looking around for Marcus Black, the man’s face still fresh in her mind from the picture that Penelope had sent her while she was on the way over to the location, the woman trying to mentally prepare herself for the mental gymnastics she’d have to go through for this. It was a common misconception that undercover missions were much easier than having to risk it by assuming who the unsub is and building off the profile. 

Y/N would argue this is much harder. You have to stand in front of a person who did unspeakable things to others. You have to get close and personal, be able to hide that overwhelming feeling of being disgusted, nervous, and even terrified. This was a man who was definitely bigger than she was in every aspect, being able to take her down if he truly wanted to. 

That didn’t stop her from flashing a bright smile at the bartender as she’d approached the bar, sitting in a bar stool while ordering a vodka tonic. Across the room, she could get a clear view of Matt Simmons, the man keeping his gaze fixated on her as he gave a nod once the two made direct eye contact.

She had a wire, the team could hear everything from the earpieces they all had in order to communicate with one another as well as communicate with her, even if she couldn’t very well respond in an obvious way. 

Although as Y/N was lost in her thoughts, she could feel a presence beside her, one that oozed darkness. The vibe had dropped tremendously low, however Y/N needed to keep up a façade or all of this will go to shit, something the team definitely doesn’t need right now.

Especially when they could just taste the capture that was going to come. “Hi.” The woman spoke, a charming smile gracing her features while her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, her fingers playing with the straw in her drink. 

Which as she had struck up a conversation, Spencer was quietly watching from the other end of the bar, nursing a full glass of some mixed drink in front of him just to avoid suspicion. He knew that she had to fake interest but that didn’t stop a heat rising in his chest, one associated with jealousy.

Seeing his girlfriend giving another man bedroom eyes, laughing at every word he said, even putting her hand on his upper arm was enough to make him seethe in his spot, hazel eyes focused on his girlfriend. 

She was giggling, he could just hear it from his spot, probably telling him that she just couldn’t bare the thought of going home alone. He was just further pissing himself off thinking of the potential things she could be saying, not even tuning in to the actual dialogue because he knew it would’ve pissed him off much more than his own thoughts.

It was enough to make him clench his hand around the glass in his right hand. It was like his brain was trying to trick him into genuinely believing that Y/N was enjoying herself. He knew better, however the anger over the ‘what if’ had him shaking. 

It reminded him of when he was in prison.

Y/N would come to visit him and it was one of the only things that got him through the hell, however the other inmates always had their comments. Saying explicit things about his angel, what they’d do to her given the chance to ever see her outside of those four cement walls. He wanted to keep his head down at the time but god damn, if this version of him was in prison, he would’ve been throwing fists and starting fights over his girlfriend, adding onto his sentence.

This was absolute fucking torture, Spencer’s leg bouncing in annoyance as he was using his opposite hand to put the earpiece in his ear, just in time to hear something that would have him absolutely livid. “I don’t think you could handle me, sweetheart. However if you’re up for a challenge, I’m always happy to take a precious little dove like yourself home.. However.. I don’t know if you could take what I’m going to give you,”

The male’s voice was the first thing Spencer was greeted with. “Is that so? You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. But I promise, once you've tasted the forbidden fruit, there's no turning back.” Y/N countered, her voice low and in a seductive tone while her fingers were tracing over the rim of her glass. 

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, honey.” The man continued while looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “Most women can’t handle what I offer. We make a wager..” There it is! Now tell her, you fucking fuck.

“If they can get through my little game, they get to go home. If not?” He began, reaching in his jacket pocket. Which was enough to make Spencer jump up from his spot before he was storming over, catching a glimpse of a knife being pulled from an inner jacket pocket.

It gave him probable cause to shove the man over the counter, making Y/N’s eyes widen at the surprise while she was jumping back. 

“Marcus Black, you are under arrest for the murders of Christine Brailey, Jessica Fredricks, and Emily Knight as well as the attempted murder of Amanda Grey.” Spencer spoke through gritted teeth, the handcuffs locking tightly on his wrists before he was shoving him out of the bar. 

  ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N’s back was hitting the front door of the apartment as soon as she and Spencer made it inside, the woman gasping while she was trapped between her boyfriend’s body and the wooden door.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were enjoying yourself back there. I mean you were really trying to sell it, weren’t you?” Spencer asked, eyebrows raising as his hand was coming under his girlfriends chin to make her look at him. He looked furious, it was enough to make Y/N nearly fall on her knees right then and there. 

The thing about Spencer was that he was much different now, prison changing him in many ways. He was still a good man, there were no doubts about that, but now he had more anger.

Which Y/N was the outlet he needed when he was having a hard time, fucking her deep into their mattress where she was soaking their bedsheets with her cum, getting to the point where she was crying from overstimulation and begging for more. 

“Get your little ass in the bedroom.” Spencer spat, dropping his hand before watching his girlfriend scurry off, making a b-line to their bedroom. It took Spencer an agonising amount of time to lock up and make sure everything was turned off for the night before he was making an appearance.

“You know, I could tell you were truly enjoying yourself. How does it feel to be a fucking whore?” He spat, making Y/N clench her thighs together as she could just feel her arousal soaking her panties from the harsh words. 

“Look at you. Fucking pathetic. You’re really getting wet right now while I’m scolding you for being a whore?” He asked, taking a few steps over before letting his hand tangle in his girlfriend’s hair, tugging her head up to force her to look up at him from the spot where she was sitting on their king sized bed.

“So cock hungry.” He spoke while letting go of her hair while working to loosen his tie, urging his girlfriend to take his belt off for him. However as she was moving to start on his pants, his hand was wrapping around hers. “No.” He began, using the tie he’d loosened and taken off to restrain her hands behind her back.

“You don’t get the pleasure of touching me tonight.” He scolded his girlfriend before pushing her back onto the mattress, his hand grabbing her right ankle before he was pulling her to the end of the bed. 

The black dress she wore had a perfect eyeful for him, her tits threatening to spill over the top as he was running his large hands over her body, fingertips tracing over the straps before he was pulling them down, letting her breasts out of their confinement while he groaned lowly. He had seen her body so much and he could navigate it with ease, but seeing her was always like the first time. Just.. He knows what he’s doing now and he’s not as nervous. “Fucking gorgeous.” His voice was low while he was using no effort at all to tug the dress down her legs, throwing it somewhere on their bedroom floor. 

“The point of panties is to have something to cover you up.” He spoke lowly, chuckling as her needy, swollen cunt was practically swallowing the fabric of the panties that were on her hips. With a soft hum, his fingertips were running across her covered slit, collecting her arousal on his fingers while sighing, his head shaking.

“Look my angel. Who’s got you this wet?” He asked, his hands pushing her thighs apart more, falling to his knees at the edge of the mattress. “Y-you.” Y/N was whispering, shaking with anticipation as she was really desperate for something, anything. She knew the game Spencer was playing though. 

“Damn right,” He gave an arrogant smirk while blowing cool air on her soaked pussy, a chuckle leaving his lips at the pathetic mewl that fell from her lips. “That’s right. Me. Because you’re mine, Y/N. Gonna show you what happens when you get too into flirting when you only had to do the bare minimum.” He murmured, his fingers hooking in the waistband of the black panties, tugging them down her legs while discarding of them somewhere on the floor.

Spencer was delving right in, eating her as if she was his last meal and he was a starved man, the way Y/N’s whines and cries making his cock stand at attention. However it wasn’t long until he was pulling away, tongue paying attention to her throbbing clit while two of his long fingers were being pushed into her without warning. 

Her pussy was clenching around the digits, her back arching off of their sheets as she was blabbing her own praises, even if she wasn’t making too much sense because she was a sobbing mess as she could feel those long fingers curling.

Her hands were still bound, grabbing onto her own wrist, although she’d rather have her fingers in Spencer’s hair and being able to shove his face against her more. However, it was all crashing down when Spencer was pulling away, the male chuckling as his girlfriend was looking up at him with tears in her eyes. She was desperate for relief. 

“Shh.. I know.” The male chuckled, now getting off his shirt, shedding his slacks as well before his boxers were the last to go. He was getting situated, his hands wrapping her shaking legs around his waist while he was spitting onto her already soaked pussy, the tip of his cock teasing her desperate cunt by spreading the sit around as if she needed to be lubed up.

“Alright, angel. Are you ready for my cock or do you need my fingers a little longer?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. Even in his state, he’d always ask before going too crazy. Last thing he needed was to hurt her. 

“Cock!” Y/N blabbed immediately, eyes glossed over while her hips were rolling in an attempt to get some sort of friction, clenching around nothing as she was left to lay there helpless.

“Answer any faster, why don’t you? Someone is eager..” Spencer chuckled, however he was getting quite desperate himself. So, he wasn’t wasting time before his cock was pushing into her cunt, his head falling on her shoulder while he let out a low groan. 

Y/N was letting out a drawn out moan, a few whimpers following after. There was always a delicious stretch, the pleasurable pain having her squirming and trying to push herself against his cock for more, the only thing stopping her was a strong hand on her hip.

“Patience. I’ll pull out right now and cum on your stomach and leave you here to squirm. You know better than this.” He warned, his voice low as he kissed the spot under her ear. 

Feeling his rock hard cock stretching and stuffing her felt beyond amazing and she loved it. Once he was bottoming out, Spencer wasted no time in beginning to ram his cock into his girlfriend.

The feeling of her velvety, plushy walls was always enough to drive him insane. It was like she was made for him, not even just her body but her as a person. She complimented him so well and he did the same with her. It was safe to say that she was his person. Emphasis on his. 

The sinful sounds of skin slapping against each other and the moans, whimpers and cries from Y/N were filling the once quiet bedroom. Their neighbors hated them enough, Spencer could already hear the complaints from the woman next door. She’d already made several noise complaints in the past, which Y/N would joke with Spencer that it was because she hadn’t been touched in a good thirty years. What a life that would be. 

Spencer kept up his steady, relentless thrusts. His goal was always to have Y/N cum first, mainly because the mere sight of her creaming around his cock was enough to make him explode. “Sp-Sp.. I-I… C-Cu-“ That was all he got out of her before he knew exactly what she was trying to convey judging by the way her cunt squeeze tightly around him, a cry leaving her lips as she was doing hitting her orgasm, her back arching off the mattress as her nails were digging into her wrists.

“Fuck!” She cried, Spencer giving a few more sloppy thrusts before long ropes of his sticky cum were beautifully decorating her inner walls, his thrusts fucking it deeper into her while he was slowly coming down from his own high. 

Y/N was in full orgasmic bliss, her face flushed, her eyes glossed over, her once neatly done makeup running down her face as well as her face being all over the place. She was fully fucked out, making Spencer lean down and press a few loving kisses against her lips before he was pulling out and pushing himself to stand.

He disappeared off to the bathroom for a few moments, getting a warm bath ready for his girlfriend before heading back to the bedroom, a soft hum leaving his lips as he was carefully picking up his tired, fucked out partner.

“There we go. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He breathed, the woman letting her arms loosely wrap around his shoulders. She was still in the stage where she was crashing down from her high, so he was placing her gently in the warm tub before grabbing a washcloth. 

As he was washing his girlfriend, he was looking up at her face once he could see the content smile on her face. “Hi,” He whispered, the two sharing a little giggle amongst each other. “Hi.” Y/N responded, leaning over to press a kiss against her boyfriend’s cheek.

“I hope you know, I might be flirting with more people more often if this is the outcome.” She joked, making Spencer laugh. 

“Like hell you are.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid x you #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid thoughts #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

newly-mated cassian x reader or azriel x reader finds out his mate is pregnant, and his primal protective instincts go crazyyyy,overprotective isn’t even the word, like if someone looks at her funny he has a knife to their throat. or imagine someone pushes her and she falls and he just beats them to the brink of death

Baby daddy

Let's be real Azriel is protective in general. This man makes it his mission to keep you safe. With all the fears of past and present enemies getting their hands on you... No, he simply won't let it happen. Not on his watch. So add a baby on the way to the mix. That's a recipe for an overly protective fea male.

And it's safety that involves anything and everything. It's not just him having his shadows on watch 24/7. It's not just him having a weapon on him constantly. It's not just him making sure that you constantly have someone watching over you. And no it's not only him growling at Madja when he notices even a slight sight of discomfort on your face during an appointment.

No, it's Azriel putting all the snacks in the bottom drawer because the night he saw you climbing the counter was the night he aged five hundred years and got a handful of greys. "Get off, get off", his shadows are all over you before he even steps forward, "But chocolate chip cookies, Azriel", you say. He's only shaking his head, "No spider mama, nonsense. You ask or you don't get any", and he means it lovingly but you're sobbing so much that he knows there has to be a compromise in this.

Bet you his shadows are spawning in front of you with a glass of fresh herbal water every thirty minutes and you have black blobs just patiently waiting for you to take it. Following you are until you do, "Tell your dad, I'll be peeing all night because of him", you mutter but all you get in response is a cool caress from the dark creatures.

And even if Azriel is not a naturally touchy person his hand is always on your bump now. Even before you're showing. It's there and it never leaves. Slowly stroking your skin. I feel like his brain would explode when he starts feeling a bump forming there. And that his palm is now moving in a somewhat round surface.

It's an ever-watching Azriel. His senses are a thousand times sharper. And it does lead him to step out of line. A baker looked at you funny because you bought four loaves of bread instead of one and asked for an extra butter spread. Well, congratulations the old man is now on the death list and Azriel's dagger is buried in the wooden counter. "You have an issue?", the words are so venomous. And the look. The spymaster look. The shadowsinger look on his face. And the baker only shakes his head. Adding an extra baked good for you. And you're walking down the street munching on it happily. Not noticing the chaos Azriel had awoken behind you. The shadows that are spooking the poor man shitless.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think that he would go as far as to lock you up. He knows his limits. And he knows he can be overbearing. But it comes from the heart. Az had already lost so much. Life had only been taken away instead of giving him anything. So now that he has you. And the baby. That quite frankly his whole world. His whole life. He's living for you two. So nothing is too much in his eyes. More like, nothing is enough in his eyes.

I feel like the people of Velaris would start calling you the goddess of darkness. Because once again half of Azriel's shadow population is with you. Twirling around you as you walk. Covering you from the harsh midday sun. Pouring all around you. And I see his shadows as literally creatures of their own so you would always have these little buddies keeping you company. Dragging the juiciest gossip from all over. And carrying all the baby bits you end up buying. And covering for you when you buy a little bit too much. Shhhh... don't tell Azriel.

And I doubt Azriel would go on long missions or assignments. Like half a day is the longest. No matter what he has to be home by dinner. There's no way he's agreeing to anything that breaks that rule. Because evenings are for him and you, and the baby. With him lying by your tummy, pressing light kisses all over your bump as he talks about his day.

#Thursday blurb evening 🌙 #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel x you #acotar #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x reader

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello ❤️

Can you please write something about Jason x Danny? Maybe something about Jason having a crush on this new guy (maybe Danny works in a library or helping people as a nurse) and just falling cause Danny is sincerely nice and isn't afraid of his Lazarus's rage

Jason first notices the new face volunteering at the soup kitchen when the guy hand-makes flour tortillas for the beans. Just like his mom used to make, alongside Mrs. Huerea before she got into drugs.

It's been years since he last had some, not because Alfred refuses to make it but because the butler never has the time.

It's usually a treat for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, or his birthday. Sometimes if Jason is lucky, there is another important holiday for the many members of Wayne Manor, and there is time for Alfred to get them done. He can have them more.

But mostly, Alfred had them store-bought.

That's why he wanders to the other man's line, mouth already watering as the volunteer piles smashed beans with cheese and tortillas onto plates. A name tag has a simple "Danny" on top of a white NASA shirt coupled with slightly baggy pants is the whole outfit of the stranger - odd in Gotham's winter time.

He offers Jason a smile, then, with a wink, places two more fresh tortillas on his plate.

Before he can say anything, Danny pushes the plate toward him. "I can tell you're a man who appreciates fine food. Take them. I can always make more. "

He jerks a thumb to the back, where a press awaits use. It looks just like Mrs. Huerea's iron-clad tool that, for a second, he's six again, early happy the women preparing for Christmas.

When his mother was sober, the Huereas had always opened their home to them. The elderly couple had always felt like grandparents to him.

"Thanks," He says around a forming grin. It matches Danny's.

Jason accepts the food with an excited thrill; for once, the memories of his mother are not so bitter and ruined. He moves out of the way for the next person, making a mental note to tell his men to ensure Danny gets home safely after his shift. It would be in his employee's way.

He does this often, assigning some Red Hood boys to make sure no one bothers any of the volunteers. Jason knows he can't get rid of all crime, not like Bruce believes, but he can at least protect those trying to make this place less of a shit hole.

He sits, savoring the flavor with great appreciation. He's got time to relax a little.

One of his Lieutenant is in the back, speaking to the director of the Soup Kitchen. This is one of Jason's protected areas, but to make sure people know it's not to be taken lightly, the Red Hood gang does require protection money.

He doesn't ask a lot but Jason knows that any place that doesn't have protection money is a bigger target. Of course he also here pretending to be hungry just to make sure the place is actually doing what they promised to do and feed people.

When Jason first took over, this particular place had been known to only give out half of the money they donated in food. The rest was going into the old director's pocket. When he caught wind of the senior director often refusing kids just to save money to steal, Jason quickly fed him to the fish.

His Lieutenant, Rogers, would not be able to recognize him. Jason was eating without a mask. What better disguise than his own dead face? Much less the other people in the soup kitchen.

Although he was meant to observe his surroundings for any funny business, Jason glued his eyes on Danny the entire time. It seemed the man had an easy smile for everyone and a calming personality that seemed to put even the most hostile at ease.

Snow. Jason thinks while watching Danny make more tortillas while chatting with a street kid until the young girl feels she could make one. He lets her round the table easily, showing her how to press down on the metal lever with the same soft ease. He's like pure white snow.

He would not last long in Crime Alley. Nothing pure ever does.

Jason fishes his food, unable to look away from what he knows would be a broken man in only a few weeks.

He leaves just as Rogers returns to the front clutching a brown bag. It looks like he didn't need to worry about the upkeeping of this place. He needs to check on the other kitchens in his territory before the day is out.

After three other Kitchens, Jason is satisfied that he's secured two. He must send Rogers to the last one because a few girls seemed uncomfortable with the leering crew. He'll have the creeps removed by this Friday.

He's swinging around as Red Hood on his normal patrol when he catches sight of Danny again. It's close to two in the morning, so he's surprised to see the other man cheerfully strolling about without any signs of exhaust.

He's also not wearing warm clothing despite the snow slowly falling around them. The only difference between what he was wearing earlier is the large black backpack. Jason half wonders if Danny only has nothing else to wear until the man pauses at an alley entry.

He crouches down, unzipping his bag, before pulling out a plastic-wrapped package. Jason watches him cautiously walk into the alley, following on the roofs out of curiosity.

His eyes widen when he spots a young boy hiding behind a trash bin, squishing himself against the wall as Danny carefully approaches him.

Jason hadn't seen the kid when he had passed by earlier, likely due to the boy knowing how to hide himself in the shadows. How had Danny seen him?

"Go away!" The boy yells when Danny gets too close for comfort. Jason's hackles rise, pulling out his gun in case he needs to intervene. He remembers the days when the sound of approaching footsteps to his hiding places in the streets meant.

Danny stops just on the other side of the trash bin. He places the package on top of it and backs away quickly. "I don't mean to bother you. But I thought you could use these. Stay warm, and if you need to escape the snowstorm, go to the address in the right pocket."

The boy doesn't answer, and Danny doesn't seem to wait for one. He leaves with quick strides. Jason watches him from the roof, noticing he returns to a slow stroll once he's back on the main street.

Below, the street kid carefully pulls the plastic bag towards him once he knows Danny is gone. He unwraps the bag only to gasp in delight at the jacket, gloves, hat, scarf, and socks inside. He quickly slips them on, burying himself in the small amounts of warmth they offer him.

Jason watches the boy for a few minutes before jumping down. The kid scrambles away until he realizes it's Rood Hood. Everyone knows that he won't harm street kids.

"Hey," He says, noting that the boy's new clothes seem to be made from expensive material, all in black and neon green. "Do you have somewhere warm to sleep tonight? Snowstorm is coming."

"I can handle it." The boy scoffs despite the shivers that wrack his body.

"I know you can. But it's not safe out here" He kneels at the boy's eye level. He seems about twelve, likely new to the streets since he has yet to find proper shelter. Dirty blond hair and dark, weary brown eyes stare back at him as Jason offers. "Let me get you somewhere safe."

"I won't go back to the stupid system."

"Nah, that shit's broken. I got a safe house for you to crash in."

The boy thinks it over. "Just us?"

Jason isn't a mind reader to know what the kid fears. "No. It's full of other people."

It takes a few more minutes, but eventually, he convinces Max to follow him. They travel across Crime Alley to one of the empty warehouses he had turned into an illegal shelter. Inside are various Red Hood gangsters passing out blankets and setting up cots for people from the streets to sleep.

The heaters are on, but a few still refuse to remove their warm clothing- likely in fear of theft or that it proves an extra layer of comfort- as they settle down.

Max thanks him as the boy rushes to a corner that seems to be taken over by children. He doesn't approach the others to speak to, but he looks more comfortable picking a cot close to them. Jason's eyes widen slightly when he realizes that all seven children are wearing some form of the Black and Neon Green outfits Danny had given Max.

Rogers strolls up next to him, nodding his chin at the children. "Some street kids have been saying a man is offering them free supplies. He doesn't ask for anything in return and leaves them alone with they tell him to. His calling card is the little neon green ghost he places on each item. Want me to take a few of our boys and check him out?"

Jason grunts. "No need. I already know who it is. He seems like a non-threat."

Rogers appears flabbergasted for only a few seconds before pulling himself together. "If you say so, boss."

Jason turns to stare at the man, and Rogers raises his hands. "All I'm saying is that it's a little odd how good the guy is at spotting street kids."

"How good is he?"

"It's like he can see in the dark. He might be a meta."

Jason thinks back to Danny walking around in his light clothes like it's the middle of summer instead of winter and finds some weight in the meta-theory. "I'll pay him a visit soon."

Rogers lets the matter drop, even if he is confused by Jason's involvement. Usually, he has some of the newest members of the youngest ones who reckon a personable target- or new recruits.

But something about Danny called out to Jason. He couldn't say it, but the man's snow-like personality eased the Pit Rage in him. Strangely it felt like Danny was the calm winter promising rest to the wounded parts of Jason's soul.

He didn't want to see Danny's pure heart ruined by this city.

Jason wonders if he could keep it safe and if Danny will even give him the chance to try.

He hopes so. Danny has such a lovely smile.

#dcxdpdabbles #Dead on main #Red Hood's snow #Jason falls for the man trying to make Crime Alley less terrible. #Danny is just vibing being a help to anyone that he comes across #Jason was raised along side a sweet Mexican family cause I say so #Jason falls for a man with a pure heart. #Rogers is freaking out #His boss??? with a crush??? #Hope you like!

[husbandohunter]

Two Shades of the Same Color

Synopsis: Protecting the law and protecting his family. The line seperating them were like two shades of the same color. Wriothesley just didn't know it yet.

Genre: Wriothesley x Reader, gender neutral pronouns, Reader and Wriothesley have a daughter

(A/n): this is my offering to the gacha gods praying for an early Wrio to come home 😔===============================

The Duke of Meropide often finds himself conflicted in the different roles he has to play.

In the daytime he carried his duty as the Warden. Having served his sentence through the years he was in prison, Wriothesley was appointed to be a suitable candidate now managing Fontaine's most notorious Fortress, guarding wanted criminals, convicts, and what justice deems guilty. Both feared and respected by them, it was quite an intresting story how he got into this rank. But he also didn't dislike his occupation. Perhaps due to this self-proclaimed 'rough around the edge' personality, he believed the prison wasn't so far disconnected from his nature.

"Wolf-ears, wolf-ears, daddy has wolf ears!" A sweet voice sang before imitating a growl sound.

Aaand there were those who really  disconnected him from his 'nature'. Wriothesley sighs as he rub his forehead, clutching a stack of unsigned papers while the girl pulled the little tuffs in his hair.

Your five year old daughter came home one day, announcing that the class had been given an assignment.

Two things arise in his head. First off, why are they already giving assignments to children? Shouldn't they be learning their alphabets and make crafts or something? Second, why does it have to involve taking your kid to work?!!

You failed to stifle a laughter at the sight, the poor man silently hoping that you would do something, "Come down little one. You wouldn't want to accidentally fall over now, would you?"

The girl shook her head, avoiding your attempt to hold her and squeezed her small legs around his shoulders, "Don't stop me! Mari wants to stay up here."

"But he's going to get tired if you keep shaking like that," you suggested, placing both hands on your hips.

Mari huffs, "That's up for daddy to decide. Right, daddy?"

You quirked an eyebrow and glanced at your husband who seemed to be under a lot of pressure. What can he do? When his daughter stares at him with her toothy grin and gleaming eyes that looks just like his own?

Helpless at her whims, he pleads silently, urging for your aid once again.

"Sorry honey," you shrugged and tilted to the side, "I tried."

"Oh really?," the man doubts, "Then why are you smiling like that?"

Wriothesley wasn't sure how he got into this mess in the beginning. Actually, wait. He did. He just...didn't want to admit it.

The initial answer to Mari's request was a no brainer. Allowing his little babydoll Marigold through the walls of Meropide was something he stricly forbade until she reached thirty years old. A reasonable negotiation, he thought. Not even the gossips plastered all over the Steambird newspaper would be discussed at the dinner table. The man vowed to keep his work life and family life seperate the day she was born.

"Why don't you go find them to help you with your homework?"

"I work at the Fortress too, silly."

Well-- maybe not you since the two of you met here, but that's different. Rules are laws and laws shouldn't be broken. There's a reason why order is meant to be taken seriously in Fontaine. And of course, in his house too.

Then you proceed to say-- it's because you keep spoiling her! Which he retorts, "I'm not spoiling her, I'm just making sure she has a fun childhood, that's all."

"Uh huh, you sure do a great job at it officer, maybe a little too well," you tease, wrapping your arms around your burly husband and nuzzled against his cheek.

Fits of giggles came from above, Mari starts rocking back and forth, "Now give him a biiiiig kiss!"

"Alright alright, that's enough you two," Wriothesley caught hold of his wiggling daughter and settled her down on the floor. Seriously, he could hardly focus. Wriothesley had planned to make his routine as boring as possible so she would leave and he could go about his day. It seems the man terribly underestimated the fact Mari had a penchant of finding entertainment. Should've been obvious that he would be the center of it.

"Can we go downstairs now? I want to see where the machines are working," Mari declares and throws her hands up in excitement.

Wriothesley clears his throat, "What did I say earlier about going downstairs?"

"It's not safe for ages under thirteen and only for members who are given permission because they're criminals," Mari sheepishly repeats.

"Aaaannd?"

"You're not allowed to abuse your authority or give me special treatment because the Warden must be fair and respect the rules from the Fortress of Marinetide, treating everyone equally."

"That's my girl," he nods with a grin. Though the pronounciation can use a little tweaking. Eh, he'll let it slide.

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit too much? The working grounds aren't that bad, even Sigewinne takes her strolls there during her breaktime," you chime in.

"Who's Sigewinne?"

The man expresses what seems like his version of a pout. Though you can never miss the small upturn slivering the corner of his mouth, "I'm starting to get the feeling that you enjoy seeing me like this."

"Nonsense," you lean on his shoulder, "I'm just admiring how much of a loving father my daughter has."

They're coaxing me into something, "No means no."

Wriothesley glances at Mari who had still been persisting him with pleads and questions. The reason why he wanted to keep his work life and family life sperate was because prison, in general, can shape a person entirely. Whether for good or worse  depends on the individual, she was far too young to be exposed at the kind of stories and complex reasonings people would have. Wriothesley knew very well that nothing is black and white. Perhaps from growing up in this kind of world, he wanted to know, to see, to let an innocent child experience life far differently than he did. Because now, he had a choice.

"I already know what you're thinking, it's written all over your face," breaking him out of his thoughts, you gently spoke to his ear, "Not everyday our little Mari gets to spend time with her father like this. She was so happy when the teacher said it was going to be a 'take your kid to work day' assignment,  you know?"

"I'd rather keep the details behind closed doors. There's not much that can be said outside the reputation everyone knows of," he reasons, "Besides, Sigewinne is the only exception because she's the head nurse. This little fellow here can hardly prounouce Meropide."

"Hey! That's not true. If I practice long and hard I can speak as perfectly as the papers on your desk!"

"Oh? You know what that's a great idea. How about we spend the day practicing your alphabets? We could also read the Boar Princess while we're at it," the Duke happily suggested.

"Wriothesley," you chide lightly, "As long as you're with her I'm sure there will be nothing to worry about," then you crouched down to Mari's height, "Right sweetie?"

"Yeah! Daddy is the strongest and smartest man in all of Fontaine!" She jumps up and down, "He can even lift me even when I'm wearing a backpack!"

Wriothesley eyes you both suspiciously, "I see how it is. Sounds like you two are teaming up."

"I like to call it a coincidential agreement," you tugged him at the arm and lead towards the stairwell, "Come on. Take the day off and let me handle the paperwork. Wouldn't want to keep the fun waiting, would you?"

Your husband folds his arms and scoffs, "A day off?"

"By the courtesy of Chief Justice Neuvillette himself," you responded.

Ah, they had it all planned out, "Astounding effort on your part, I suppose."

"Please, daddy? I swear I'll behave and not do anything to make you mad," Mari twiddles her thumbs, "Pleeease?"

Wriothesley closes his eyes, a habit he acquired during situations such as this. Well, looks like he was fighting a losing battle anyways. Maybe you were right. He was spoiling her.

"Fine. Only under one condition. You have to-"

"Call me 'Your Grace'!" She salutes immediately, " Oh, I mean...you, Your Grace."

Wriothesley glances at your way again and you merely returned a shrug. He smiles amusedly.

They really had it all planned out. 

•••

When Wriothesley stepped out of his office, he was slowly starting to regret his decision.

Mari, being far too excited for her own good, already bounced a few metres ahead. He sometimes wondered where she gets her energy from. For newcomers, they easily wear out before they become used to things. Ah, that's right, I have to make sure she doesn't disturb the inmates. If this keeps going then who knows where she might end up. Archons forbid it'd be the Pankration Ring.

"Up you go," for now, Wriothesley scoops her into his hold, having the girl seated on one forearm and the other supporting her weight. Until she calms down, at least.

"Mari is reporting for duty," she salutes again.

Wriothesley lets out a chuckle, "Since when did I ever act like a Marechaussee Hunter? Wait, let me guess, you snuck to see Clorinde."

Guilty as charged. The little girl slaps a hand over her mouth, "Whoopsies."

"I'm joking. I actually didn't think you snuck out to see Clorinde," he smugly states, "Well well looks like my little culprit reveals herself."

She huffs, "Heyyy, that's cheating."

"Sorry babydoll, but I think I win this one," Wriothesley boops her nose in a playful manner and allowed Mari to stand on her own two feet, "So, are you ready for a tour around the Fortress of Meropide?"

"Where are we headed first, Your Grace?" She chirped, eyes blown wide like she was on a sugar rush from last time.

Wriothesley raised a scarred brow, "Oh you're letting me decide? In that case you'll just have to wait and see for yourself."

"Yay, I love surprises!"

Even better. This way, he can guarantee that she won't wander off to places she shouldn't be in, no one should be in.

Lunch hour was approaching and the inmates were already finishing up their shifts. He could feel the frequent looks being thrown from the cafeteria, already knowing it will be the hot topic for the next few days or weeks.

Right, then there's this part I have to deal with.

It didn't help that the man's presence alone had the same affect under normal circumstances. Seeing their Warden with a babbling little girl was rather jarring. Mari was...how should he put it, good at stealing the spotlight. So much she easily attracted all the attention from the locals. Wriothesley had never knew someone could be so pestering that it became endearing. Other than you of course. Heh, I guess that's one of many things they have in common.

He doesn't try to hide the smile softening at his features.

"C-Could that be His Grace and..."

Welp, looks like the hot topic is already cooking. Wriothesley pays no mind. There's nothing wrong with being open about his family in front of other people at least. Just because he had a reputation as the Warden to keep doesn't rob him the identity of being a father.

His mind suddenly drifts back to you. Is that why you were so insistent about this earlier?

"Daddy, everyone is looking at us funny."

The word 'daddy' does not escape those around him, percise as a radar and pointed sharply at his direction. Wriothesley expected as much. Actually, he was more surpised she even managed to remember the honorifics for this long, "Ah who cares. Let them do their thing. Anyways, didn't you say you wanted to see how the machines worked?"

A pause before she breaks out into a wide, beaming grin, "Yeah!"

"Then hold on tight," without a warning, Wriothesley lifts her until she was settled on his shoulders and ran as fast as he could, away from the crowd.

•••

"Was that...the Duke just now?"

A confused inmate, still processing at what he just saw, allowed the bitten meal in his hand fall to the plate.

"Who knew His Grace had a soft spot," Another one snickers.

Wolsey who had been tending to the dishes behind the counter exhales exasperatedly, "His Grace ought to be more careful with his actions around others next time."

•••

The shaft doors open to reveal the upper level of the production zone. Wriothesley exits first before gently taking the girl's hand as she shuffled down the two stairs. Thankfully the area had been emptied, except for a few supervisors, it was much more peaceful compared to the cafeteria.

"Wooooahh looks at all those meks!" She ogled. Meks was her way of saying gardemeks. Spending time with a five year old made him more keen to the language innuendos they create, "It's like one gigantic gear working together."

"Not just gears sweetheart, the people here are responsible for making sure ever part of the machine is functioning. Without them, there would be no clockworks you see in the surface," Wriothesley opens a palm while he explains, "I know most of your classmates only think of them as criminals, but criminals have been working for honest income."

"Does that mean the same criminals are now helping to make meks that catches more criminals and keep Fontaine safe?"

The man pauses, thinking for a moment, "You could say that."

"Hmmm," Mari looks down pensively, trying to put two and two together, "So if criminals are honest people, how did they end up in here?"

"Well uhhh... " Wriothesley breathes out quietly. It's complicated. Sometimes he doubts if the word criminal is even a proper label. Becoming a criminal isn't always by choice, some are just born into it, eventually going down a path because there was no where else to go. And the few who escape are the lucky ones, "Ah very tricky, sweetheart. Don't tell me you're here trying to get ideas."

The mischeivious expression he gave her made Mari gasp in disbelief, "I would never break the law daddy!"

"Are you sure?" He insists with jest.

"Yes, and I promised a hundred thousand times already," she emphasized.

Wriothesley pats her lightly on the head. Although his hands were calloused and scared, they carried the weight of a loving father, "Good. I know you'd do the right thing."

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar silouette dressed in pastel colors. Sigewinne had been speaking with Grainville at the Operation and Widget equipment. As you mentioned earlier, the head nurse pays frequent visits to check upon the health conditions of inmates. For the Duke, it was natural that he'd want to know if there was anything he should be concerned about. But now is not the time. He didn't want to drag his daughter when this was meant to be a fun activity of theirs.

"What's that over there?!" She scurries off without a warning, specifically at the direction he was glancing earlier.

Or we can just check it out anyways. Wriothesley thought to himself, using his hands to prop against his knee, standing upright so he could catch up with Mari.

The Melusine was the first to notice, "Your Grace? I'm seeing you everywhere these days. I hope you haven't been swarmed with too much to do."

It's true that Wriothesley had been more present in his timing. The Primordial Sea issue was something he wanted to be resolved as soon as possible, "I'm actually doing just fine, thank you Sigewinne."

"Y-Your Grace. I'm surprised to see you here. Are there any newcomers I must train?" Now it was Grainville's turn to intervene, "Oh, and who's this?"

"Sigewinne?? That's the nurse, daddy?" Mari exclaims, baffled as she compares her height with the other, "Why is she so small like me? Did she get hit by the short disease?"

Jeez. Children can really run around without a filter these days.

"She may be small but a lot more older than she looks," Wriothesley reasons, gentle and firm, "Aren't you forgetting something? In front of you, these people have greeted us the moment we came by. What's the right thing to do, Mari?"

It took some time for her to realize but she perks up as soon as she did. Flustered, the young lass dips herself into a low curtsy, head following suit that her hat fell to the floor, "Good afternoon. My name is Mari. I'm five years old. Nice to meet you all."

Wriothesley maintains a straight face and picks up her hat. On the inside, he could feel his heart squeezing. No matter how many tries you practiced with her, she still doesn't get it quite right. Totally his fault. He never scolds her for it.

"Hello Mari, my name's Sigewinne and I'm the head nurse," the melusine beams, "Though I'm a bit surprised, Your Grace. I thought [Name] said you didn't want to bring your daughter here."

Quick, he had to make an excuse before, "Ah, that's--"

"That's because daddy is awesome and he cares about us so much!"

Urk.

Sigewinne's countenance suggested she caught on that the Warden had a weak spot for his overly coddled daughter, "I see. You're fortunate to have such good parents, Mari. His Grace had put in great effort to ensure the safety and well-being of the Fortress. It's probably why everyone is quite satisfied with living here."

"I know," Mari nods with agreement, "Since daddy does the same thing at home."

Warmth spreads inside his chest and the glaciers of the man's gaze thaws enough for one to notice. Did she truly feel that way? Somehow, for a long time, he didn't think it was enough.

"It's true. His Grace doesn't ostracize anyone and gives them an equal chance of a better life," Grainville added.

Wriothesley crosses his arms and returns a quipped stare, "Indeed. Though I'm afraid flattery will get you as far as none. Best get to work."

Grainville salutes, "Yes, Your Grace!"

"Wait daddy, can I stay and watch?" Mari tugs the hem of his fur coat, "When I go to school tomorrow, I can tell all my friends all the cool things we did today."

He straightens his posture, "No."

"But daddyyyyyyy."

Here we go again. Except this time, the man will avoid all eye contact. Maybe he can try getting earplugs next time, which of course, must be slipped on discreetly so she wouldn't notice. If you were here, he'd be getting an earful of the same conversation he had in the office. Equipment processors can be dangerous to use if something suddenly screws loose. Who knows what might happen?

Though a father can only resist so much and he couldn't ignore her forever. Wriothesley relaxes his shoulders, the crease in his forehead fading, "Are you sure you can be careful?"

"Careful is my middlename!"

"Grainville," Wriothesley commands. Authority drips from his voice that the supervisor nearly flinched from his place, "Check if there's any malfunction in Operations and Widget equipment. I expect a thorough search once I get return from lunch."

Without a moment hesitation, Grainville executes his task as if his life depends on it.

"Daddy, can we go buy some food?" Mari looks up, "I want Fonta!"

"No junk food until you eat properly," though now she mentions it, he is craving a cup of tea by now.

Walking out of the shaft once more, Wriothesley takes another look at the environment surrounding the cafeteria, through a different lens than the last. He recalls his first day. Young, brash, and full of poor judgement. They were not the best memories, but they were certainly memories.

How things have changed. For the better, as it should. To Wriothesley, that was probably the most important aspect of all. He likes seeing signs of strength and hope, reassuring him that tomorrow will be a better day. Though he made peace with the present constantly filling him with doubt. Can the same progress be as steady as he wanted?

He thought about what you said. Then the words he heard from others. The Fortress of Meropide had improved to the point it could function autonomously. On top of that, he received high praise from both surface dwellers and those who lived in the underworld. What drives him to maintain this environment stems from his past. The good and the bad. The mistakes and lessons. The two shades of the same color blurred into one.

"Daddy, I just want to tell you, I had so much fun today. Thank you for bringing me here!"

And if those experiences of his could ensure that his daughter could live a safe and peaceful childhood, then that's everything he can ask for.

#genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin

[tiredfox64]

Hello! Sooo I had this idea of a forbidden love story between Bihan and the reader. The reader is a good friend of Liu Kang and was assigned to assist Kaui Liang and Tomas with the Shirai Ryu and becomes friends with them. Despite all that, Bihan was already in love with the reader because she's genuinely a good and innocent person and feels the need to be protective of her while the reader struggles with her feelings because he's now a traitor even though she's attracted to him.

How Could You

Prior notes: Reader: I think I’m in love with Bi-Han. Any thoughts?

Liu Kang: And prayers, you’re going to need them.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Angst or even none. I don’t know you decide. I’m not your mom, Tyler!

Bi-Han was many things but you would have never imagined he would be a traitor to Earthrealm. It broke your heart to hear the news from Lord Liu Kang. But that feeling was swept away once he gave you more news.

“Not all hope is lost. Kuai Liang and Tomas have creating a new clan to defend Earthrealm. The Shirai Ryu. Your service is needed as I want you to help their clan grow strong. For now there are no threats but we can never be too careful.” He said.

You have your own mission now. A service to Lord Liu Kang, to the Shirai Ryu, and Earthrealm. But you can’t get over that feeling in your chest. That sorrow of Bi-Han being gone.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Your service was indeed needed. Finding the right initiates was difficult even with the help of Harumi. The only one who was able to bring any hope was Hanzo yet even he needed a lot of work.

Your personality made it easier. Your heart of gold attracted many to come. None wanted to disappoint you. If someone failed and they saw you frown they immediately fixed their errors just to see you smile and cheer them on.

Your need to care for others also helped greatly. If anyone was injured you were quick to patch them up and make sure they were well rested. It quenched people’s worries about being badly hurt and never recovering. If you can care for a little bunny who was only acting hurt for attention, you can take great care of a person.

You also grew closer to Kuai Liang and Tomas. Kuai Liang would have thought this task would be much more difficult even with the help of his wife. Seeing how you brought hundreds to the clan and continue to bring more made you a true gem to him. Tomas especially was grateful of your good deeds. You were useful when training the initiates as you were able to simplify instructions to the others comprehension. If Tomas wasn’t able to make them do what he wanted them to do he would have thrown in the towel way too early.

You even sparked a great relationship with Harumi and Hanzo. Harumi not only appreciated your help when it came to training but housing all the new initiates. You made everyone comfortable and placed them in the rooms they most likely wanted to stay in. You gathered food and helped cook as well. Cooking for hundreds was not an easy task but you were always willing to help and give the healthiest meals. Everyone needed to be in tip top shape. Hanzo, though a rambunctious teenager with great anger, was able to be calmed by your presence. I think he could sense that you have a good heart. You understood his frustration and how he had to survive by being a thief. You reassured him that those days are done and he is in good hands. He will become great and strong, you will make sure of that.

The Shirai Ryu was flourishing. The combined effort of everyone resulted in a fine clan. A clan you felt like could be as great as the Lin Kuei. Things looked up yet you still felt down about Bi-Han’s betrayal. You’re not alone in that and you knew it. You couldn’t let others find out about your feelings. So when the end of the day would come and you were left by yourself, your smile would falter. Tears would prick your eyes. You thought Bi-Han would be good, at least for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Bi-Han felt it was necessary to separate his clan from the binds of Lord Liu Kang. But at what cost.

He has earned them infamy which he could never accept. But he was forced to accept the fact that he lost you. He lost the one person who could warm his frozen heart. Hands that would hold his heart and let the ice melt.

Even when you two met there was a strange spark. You would always go next to him yet keep distance as to not upset him. You would say anything and everything to him when he never asked for him. At first he would tell you to shut up and leave him alone. No matter what you always came back. You would be hiding behind a tree and watching him from a distance just to get a glimpse of him.

You never knew why but Bi-Han made you feel things. Maybe it was his handsome face. Or that deep voice that when he grunted you felt something in your stomach. Or his muscles that seemed so fun to touch. Soon enough he started getting the hint.

You know what they say, opposites attract. Though he always found goodness to be a weakness he saw how it benefited. Whenever you visited the Lin Kuei wanted to impress you and so they worked harder than before. All those times Bi-Han would yell at them they never worked harder. But encouragement from you made them into fighting machines. Who would have thought.

Then you started to get real nice to him. That moment when you tucked that piece of loose hair behind his ear he always remembered to keep a loose strand of hair out. He wanted you to do it over and over again. Have your fingertips lightly graze his face and feel how warm you were against his cold skin. You noticed the effect it had on him and used it to your advantage to be closer to him.

He liked, no, loved when you praised him for his skills. It made him feel superior to everyone, including his brothers. Cause he should be superior to them as he was the grandmaster.

Bi-Han was disgusted by the people in his clan when they would make lewd comments about you. Comments about your chest, your hips, your thighs, your everything. Or when they criticize you for being too nice or too much of a goody two shoes. He didn’t know what came over him but he would end up nearly beating them to death during training. They’d act surprised that their grandmaster would do such a thing, nearly crippling some of his best fighters. But when it comes to you it doesn’t matter. He has to protect your honor. He has to protect you from the filthy eyes of lowlifes. You need his protection.

But your innocence. That was quite a shock to him.

Never had a kiss? Not even on the cheek? Well, he fixed that right up. When you confessed to him that you never gotten a kiss from a man he felt it was his duty to fix that. It’s an honor to be kissed by the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. Even a kiss on the cheek sent you into a spiral. His lips barely touched you! Yet you reacted as if you two had a five minute make out session. Your mouth was shut tight and you placed your forehead on his arm to help cool you down. Bi-Han couldn’t help it, he had a small smirk on his face which he hid from you. He could only imagine how you would have reacted if he did it on the lips.

But he might never know. Because he messed up by being a traitor. Some days he feels like he did the right thing by gaining the Lin Kuei’s freedom. While others he feels anger because he can’t be near you.

When he heard that you were helping the Shirai Ryu he went mad. Anything in his sight was targeted. Spikes made of ice littered the land. Their jagged and cold form matched how he felt in his heart.

Now who will protect you from the filthy pest of the world. Bi-Han doesn’t know where you are. The Shirai Ryu are too good at hiding and that makes them cowards. Someone could take your innocence and what then. His brothers don’t care about you like Bi-Han cares about you. You’re only safe in his arms and in his sight. You must never be left alone with anybody. Filthy men putting their hands on you, that thought alone makes him furious.

You were his light in a gloomy world. Even if you were friends with Lord Liu Kang he saw you as your own person. A victim to Liu Kang who probably has you wrapped around his fingers. You need to be free just like him. Not following orders like you are now. You must be so depressed without him.

In a way you are as you still struggle to accept the situation. You’re no victim however. Even though Liu Kang said you were done with your task a while ago you still continue out of the kindness of your heart. It’s the right thing to do. But you will continue and mourn what could have been.

If only he kept you in mind when Shang Tsung made that horrible offer. None of this would have happened. This shouldn’t have happened.

You’re only left with sadness. You lost someone you were willing to love and change. You were so close to warming Bi-Han’s heart. You warmed it enough that he feels regret for what he has done. But he can’t turn back now. What’s done is done. Maybe in another timeline he was never a traitor. In another timeline you two are together where he can protect you and love you for who you are.

After notes: If I have not satisfied your needs you can force me to eat British Chinese food. Or you can yell at me either one goes, you can even tell me to redo it all. A little bit of a warning I might be silent for one or two days just cause of classes. Literally have to make a 6-8 minute speech about contraceptives in the span of two days. So either it will be backpocket fics, reblogs (I have faith in the 🍊), or nothing. You’ll know when you’ll know. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #bi han mortal kombat #bi han mk #bi han sub zero #bi han #bi han x you #bi han x reader #mk fanfic #sub zero x you #sub zero x reader #sub zero #angst #my eyesight is deteriorating

[saigethearies]

saige’s terrortober presents…

offering

unbeknownst to you, zeke has chosen you to be his cult’s next virgin sacrifice. a pining eren knows exactly what he needs to do to save you.

cultist!eren jaeger x fem!reader

contents/warnings: mentions of murder, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, praise, corruption kink, breeding, protective and possessive eren, mentions of ‘purity’

wc: 2k

18+ MINORS DNI

eren felt as if time had frozen around him when the name of the chosen sacrifice tumbled from zeke’s lips.

your name.

you, the kind girl from his english lecture.

you, who gives him a pencil when he forgets his own.

you, who explains assignments to him with patient words.

you, who shares whatever snack you’ve brought without hesitation.

you, with your soft smile and sweet laugh, who was going to be cut to death on the altar zeke stood behind this upcoming equinox.

“she’s a virgin?” floch’s grimy voice pulled eren back to reality, and it took every ounce of the self-control that already came scarce to him to refrain from knocking the ginger’s teeth in. “could have had me fooled, way too pretty for her cherry not to be popped.”

zeke chuckled at floch’s remark. “my source is never wrong, she’s completely pure. she probably will be our cutest offer yet, though.”

they were gonna kill you, he was supposed to kill you. eren thinks about you when he falls asleep, when he wakes up, and all the hours in between. his little crush that’s been festering since the beginning of the semester would come to a thrilling conclusion when he hands his brother the dagger.

he couldn’t let it happen.

to hell with the brotherhood, he wouldn’t let them take you away from him.

eren knew the sacrifice always had to be a virgin, that was the one golden rule since the founders first drew blood centuries ago.

ascending up the hidden catacomb’s stairs after zeke adjourned the meeting, eren already had his plan mapped out- he just couldn’t tell if he was thinking more with his brain or his dick.

it was time for him to make you unqualified.

____

“thanks for offering to tutor me, i really need it,” eren said with a smile, opening the door to his room.

“it’s no problem! i needed something to do this afternoon, anyways!”

you had that smile on your face again, a little twinkle in your eye as you looked up at him. damn, you were so beautiful. he hoped he could pull this off.

within a few minutes, the two of you were sitting on his bed, you holding a textbook open in your lap as you pointed to different literary techniques. eren’s gaze kept drifting off of the pages and onto the exposed skin of your legs, little skirt you were wearing riding up as you sat.

you trailed off in your description of a motif when you felt a warm hand on your thigh. blinking, you turned to see eren’s face extremely close.

“...is everything okay?” you asked slowly, face heating up. men were never in your personal space like this, much less one as attractive as eren. the proximity was causing you to become flustered.

you tried to stand, get some distance between the two of you, only to trip and land right on eren’s lap. your startled eyes met his shining sea green ones, and the urge to kiss him surged through you.

eren knew he was about to have you right where he wanted, having enough past flings to know the tells of a woman. he just needed to give you one more little push, one more and then he can put his plan into motion.

bringing a hand to cup your cheek, he spoke to you softly. “can i kiss you?”

“i…”

“we don’t have to do anything if you’re uncomfortable,” he said, stroking your face tenderly as if your life wasn’t currently hanging in the balance.

eren’s care felt genuine to you and your eyelids fluttered shut, leaning your lips up to meet his. the kiss was careful, eren gently applying pressure as if he didn’t want to do too much and scare you away.

you felt a shiver run down your spine when his tongue slid into your mouth, trying not to make your lack of experience obvious as he explored the wet cavern.

a hand going under your skirt, however, had you jolting. grabbing eren’s wrist before he could go further, you broke away from his lips with a pant. “wait!”

“what is it?” he asked, already knowing full well what the answer would be.

“i’ve never…you know…” you trailed off, and something about the look on his face told you that he understood perfectly.

“do you want to?”

please say yes, say yes so he can protect you.

you bit your lip, unsure. you knew nothing about sex, and the unknown was always nerve wracking to you. on the other hand, you had this nice, handsome guy that you were already acquainted with offering to take your virginity.

not many girls get this type of opportunity…

you nodded. “yeah, can we please just go slow?”

“of course, princess, we can go as slow as you want.”

it didn’t matter how you wanted it, all that mattered was that eren’s cock got to split your virgin cunt open.

his fingers resumed their trek up your inner thigh, tracing the outline of your panties.

“i’m gonna prep you first, okay, baby? make it hurt less.”

“okay,” you replied, breath hitching when you felt eren’s thumb slide into your underwear, immediately going to rub circles into your sensitive nub.

the stimulation had you jerking instantly, not familiar with the pleasure that was being inflicted on you.

“oh-oh!”

“that feel good?” he asked, sliding a finger into your pussy that was growing slicker by the second.

“mhm.”

this felt so much different than from when you’d play with yourself, not realizing how electrifying it was to have fingers between your folds that weren’t yours.

he added his index finger into your pussy, dark desire twisting his insides at how tightly you clamped on that one finger. starting to pump in and out slowly, eren cooed at you.

“relax, princess, ‘m gonna take care of you. you’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

you nodded at his words, not knowing the double meaning behind them. eren started to thrust his finger faster, rubbing against your bud with more intent. mewls left your lips at the sensation, humping his hand pathetically.

eren’s eyes were trained on you. the sight of you crumbling and succumbing to a man’s touch for the first time was breathtaking. the brunette was starting to think this could be love.

your thighs were quaking around his hand, slick dripping all over his lap. he relished in the mess, knowing that now you were probably loosened up enough.

“alright, pretty girl,” he kissed underneath your ear. “i think you’re ready for my cock.”

he gently maneuvered you off of his lap and onto his bed, lowering you down with so much care it made your throat feel tight. tugging your panties off before taking his own shirt off, he looked down at you.

“can you show me those pretty titties, princess?”

you blinked up at him dreamily, obeying his command as your shirt joined his on the floor. not even a second had passed after your bra fell from your shoulders when his large hands were cupping your breasts, squeezing at them in a way that had your eyes screwing shut.

“eren!”

he gave you a little kiss on your forehead as he leaned over you, palms leaving your chest as he grabbed a pillow to place under your hips. you took a deep breath, trying to settle your jittery nerves as you observed eren remove the rest of his clothing.

eren stopped you when you tried to take your skirt off.

“leave it.”

he pushed it out of the way, your glossy cunt appearing. the view of you completely naked with just your skirt bunched around your waist had eren’s mind shortcircuiting. he wanted to burn this image into his memory forever, and knowing he would be the first person to ever see you like this was even better.

if he had it his way, he’d be the only.

spreading your thighs open wider, eren slotted himself in between them. he grabbed hold of your hips, bringing them closer in a way that had your whole body being dragged down the bed. you yelped at his display of strength.

“sorry, princess,” he said with a sheepish smile. his tip prodded at your entrance. “deep breath f’ me, okay?”

the way he pierced you open was addicting, every inch of his dick spearing your virgin walls had your toes curling. you didn’t expect penetration to feel this good the first time. all your friends told you it would hurt the first several tries, but leave it to eren jaeger to throw you for yet another loop.

you felt his pubic bone become flush against yours.

“taking all of me your very first go? such a good fucking girl, damn.”

it was done. your virginity was his. zeke could no longer butcher you on that cold, stone altar in front of his whole brotherhood. eren had never felt so proud of himself, the knowledge that his girl was now safe and sound due to his plan had his skin tingling in excitement. he tightened his grip on your hips, trying so hard to keep himself grounded. he had promised you slow.

yet, as always, you proved to be heaven-sent.

“eren,” you babbled to him. “move, please! wan’ you to move.”

the frenzied gleam in his eye made your pussy throb. the brunette wasted no time in listening to your plea, bucking into you like his life depended on it- oh, the irony.

you screamed out, hands flying to fist the sheets beside you as eren kept your pelvis locked in place, subject to thrust after thrust of his cock. the pleasure was already swirling inside you as if it was a tornado, the high that was building from earlier now picking back up its rise.

“feel so good, so good, fuck.”

never had he been in a cunt this warm and tight. eren intended on molding it to the shape of him, ruining it for anyone else. he’d make sure you wouldn’t even want anyone else.

“perfect, princess,” he grit out. “fucking perfect pussy.”

his praise and pace made you feel lightheaded, falling further into the haze of ecstasy he was shrouding you in. you weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“i-i think ‘m close…”

“yeah? me too baby.”

with the way you were gripping him, it was a miracle eren hadn’t already busted. he angled his hips to hit even deeper, adding a finger to your clit again in hopes of finishing the both of you off.

“where do you want me?”

your answer shocked him. “inside!”

fuck, you were gonna be the death of him.

“my princess wants to be filled up, huh?”

who was he to deny you?

one final plunge into your walls timed perfectly with the rub of his thumb had you clenching hard on his dick, muscles spasming as you orgasmed. eren was spurred into his own climax, spilling into you. his eyes were glued to your face, your cockdrunk expression almost enchanting to him as he watched you fall apart.

slowly pulling out, the brunette was in awe at his cum leaking out of you. deciding to worry about his sheets later, he crawled up the bed to see your drooping eyes.

laying down next to you, eren engulfed your frame with his. he held your head against his chest as you drifted off, exhaustion taking over.

____

zeke put his book down as he heard his phone ping, surprised to see he had gotten a text from eren. his brother hardly ever messaged him.

his interest was piqued even more when he saw it was a picture.

opening the image, however, had zeke wanting to chuck the device across the room.

while eren made sure to have the covers pulled up enough, the blonde could still tell it was you from your side profile resting on his brother’s torso.

another ping.

“you might need to pick a new offering, my bad.”

zeke knew the smug bastard didn’t feel guilty in the slightest.

____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

#saige’s terrortober #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x y/n #aot x reader #aot smut

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 2}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: It goes without saying that your first overnight patrol in years happens to be with Joel Miller. But the conversation doesn't flow easily like it normally does, with your haywire emotions and his unintentional eavesdropping...

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little daft in this, reader is a little daft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, reader snaps at joel, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, jealousy, three (3) instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, protective joel, minor injuries, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i just really got caught up in these two after work yesterday. i hope this chapter reads as well as the first one, i'm super nervous bc i want to keep it soft, but i did say there was slight angst in this! love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You were minding your own business walking back from the mess hall when you caught wind of the conversation.

It was a hushed thing, between two people right outside of the turn for the main street. Two women standing close to each other. You had been passing them by when your ears caught your nickname. And then your real one.

“Olive? What kind of grown woman willingly goes by such a silly nickname.” One quiet voice uttered.

“Tommy Miller gave it to her, on account of the trees in her backyard. Surprised she even knows what to do with them.” Another one, both of them faintly familiar. While Jackson was small, only a few hundred people, it was easy to recognize them. They were the ones you often heard while helping out with the gardens, offering trade with the owners as you all shared the spoils of your own personal ones tended to in backyards.

You knew you were intent on pulling your own weight to support and protect the town. Having been grateful for stumbling across the safe haven it provided all those years ago now. Partaking in the patrol rotation and helping out with anything around the town. You had made a life here, one that you had always wanted to try and salvage from the wreckage of the world.

But that didn’t stop people from being people. Rumors and gossip spreading as quickly as the virus that forced the world into small communities like this one. You just happened to be the star in the most recent bout, it seems.

“Yeah, but she does bring them to the markets and trade, so she’s not all that daft.”

“She’s going on the overnight patrol. With Joel Miller.” A whispered reveal, as if it was a death sentence, something that couldn’t be spoken at a regular volume lest it manifest into something.

“Hopefully she doesn’t get-“

“He’s so much more capable, they already saddle him with her for two of his mornings shifts.”

“And now they’re putting her with him for one of the most important ones, what are they thinking.”

“She’s a dear, truly, but she’s going to lose it. Just like she did all those years ago.”

“If she’s the only one that comes back…”

“Marsha, hush, you can’t speak that way. He’s capable enough for the both of them.”

Oh, they weren’t just talking about mundane stuff. They were talking about that. Your chest tightened as you realized they didn’t have any faith in your skills, in the risks you took every time you went beyond the gates to ensure their safety.

Turning back the way you came, not able to face walking past the two women huddled close together and talking so casually about the things that kept you up at night and made sleep hard to come by. You walked straight into a broad chest smelling far too familiar. Smelling like Joel. A grunt that sounded way too baritone and way too close sprung into the evening air at the contact much like your wheezing gasp.

“Woah there, sweetheart, where’s the fire?” Large hands skimmed over your back, arms encasing you, and making you feel a little light-headed, righting your balance as you began to waver from the sudden contact. Oh no, not that honeyed drawl, not that voice, not that tender nickname, not him, not now.

Your composure was already slipping, and you didn’t think you could hold on to what little you had left if he were to ask you if you were alright. The need, the want to answer his questions always winning out.

But you couldn’t, not this time.

“I-I’m fine, just forgot- something.”

“Hey.” And you stopped trying to step back. His hands came up from around your arms where he had grabbed you, cradling your face and tilting you to look at him. His features were softened, the wrinkles beside his eyes and in his forehead creased as he looked you over, making sure you were okay. But you weren’t and you didn’t want him to know. Spurred on by the sound of two voices that had caused all this rounding onto the street, you ignored the fluttering of your heart, the way your breath had caught in your throat, the way he had been touching you and fled.

“See you to-tomorrow!” You managed to squeak out as you stepped away from him, avoiding looking at him directly, his arms falling back to his sides. You weren’t sure if he was trying to catch your eyes, not raising them past his chest as you walked around him. His gaze was heavy on you, following you as you took off down the street in a roundabout way to get back to the streets lined with houses.

“Tommy, please.” Your voice was small, an imitation of what it normally sounded like, and Joel stopped in his tracks. He had a bag of things for Maria, for his brother that he had wanted to drop off before retiring for the night. He tried to quiet his breathing, standing as still as a statue in the back part of the hallway of their house, your voice carrying in from the open sliding door that led out to the sunroom.

He had just run into you down by the shops, or more accurately you had run into him. Literally. His mind had blanked at the feel of your body against his own, the soft press of you up against his chest, the feel of your warm breath fanning over the skin of his neck. And not for the first time, he thought of how well you would fit into him. How well his body could wrap around yours.

He had noticed that while around town you were hesitant to let anyone so much as clap a hand over your shoulder. Aside from the children, whose hands you gladly held with kind smiles and whose arms you welcomed around your shoulders with laughter. Tommy and Maria being the only ones he had witnessed you embracing in quick hugs.

He was always so careful with you, not allowing for direct contact to linger. It always made his heart thunder in his ears, and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with it, the casual touching. You never shied away from him, from the skimming of his fingers against your own or the more recent indulgences he had given into with the touch of his hand or the touch of his lips to minor injuries. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it delighted him to see the way your lashes fluttered and the feel of your breath hitching. He was a man after all, and he was one who was a fool for the jittery feelings you stirred in him. Even if he worried for them at the same time.

“Olive, you can’t let their words get to you.” His brother’s voice was calm, assuring you of the worries you shared with the man.

“But they’re right, Tommy!” Your voice rose to the highest volume Joel had ever heard and then wavered to nothing. More hiccups and sniffling sounding through the door. A particularly harsh hiccup sounded, startling him as he realized you were crying. Chest tight, Joel couldn’t even picture it. The thought of tears running down your upset face steeled his heart. He clenched his hands tight over the handle of the bag in his grip as he heard the shuffle of movement. He couldn’t see through the glass for the curtain fluttering in the evening breeze.

Joel was turning on his heel as your sniffles grew into sobs, moving as quietly as he could back through the house. He set the bag atop the kitchen counter and closed the front door behind him as gently as he could to not garner your or his brother’s attention. He had already heard more than he had meant to, the sound of your distressed voice beckoning him to you as he felt the need to console you. To make whatever it was better.

He knew you had been acting off earlier, just moments ago. From your wild eyes to the way you had been so distracted, the stutter to your voice.

But you were a private person, indulging him in his silly, earnest questions while out on patrol. But this?

This was something you definitely would not someone overhearing, and he respected that. He knew all too well the things people kept to themselves, things that were never exposed to the light of day, spoke of in front of others. And he didn’t want to betray the trust you seemed to have in him by hiding behind a curtain while you fell apart in front of someone who already knew of your struggles and ghosts.

He only hoped that one day…you would feel safe enough and comfortable enough with him to help you shoulder their weight. Because he knew not every patrol went smoothly, how could they, when the whole point of them was to keep up with any possible threats.

Once back in his own home, he found Ellie fast asleep on the couch with a movie playing on the modest television and a sketchbook dangling from her fingers. He removed his boots and then his coat, catching a whiff of the scent of you on his clothing. Light, slightly floral, sweet. You must’ve been tending to the garden he knew you kept in your yard earlier that day. Or baking something like you were apt to do.

With a sigh, he turned off the movie and closed the sketchbook to set it atop the table in front of the couch before moving into the kitchen. The slice of pie you had given him the other day was somehow still in the container you had fumbled for. Ellie must’ve known it was from you because she hadn’t said anything or tried to steal it. Knowing Joel liked to enjoy the treats you shared with him in the evenings with a cup of coffee.

So, he did, as he sat in his work room and began to sketch out some simple designs. He would fill your whole kitchen with whatever you wanted if it meant he would never have to encounter your tears again.

“They- they said I’m going to get him killed, that I shouldn’t even be on the no-normal patrol rotation.”

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.” Tommy tried to console you, taking in the situation and your words a best he could. But you had rushed through them, explaining in bits and pieces. You were emotionally charged, worked up, and nearly trembling. You thought you had worked through this, at least enough to be okay on the day-to-day front. But those two women, Marsha and her friend, had taken you back to the wave of everything as if it had just happened.

You were scared. Because they were right, you were dangerous. There was the very real possibility that you could cause harm to Joel, and you didn’t even want to begin to entertain thoughts like that. He…he was good and you didn’t want to be the cause of the man’s downfall. A promise to his brother to fill a spot on patrol spiraling into the current situation and it hadn’t even happened yet. It was supposed to, first thing in the morning.

“No, it’s not, Tommy. Everyone in town thinks I’m going to get him killed. That I got Aiden killed.” The name was foreign falling from your lips after not speaking it for so long. It was something you hadn’t been able to do since that patrol so many years ago now. “I ca-can’t stomach the thought of him getting injured because of me, because I’m not good enough to protect him. He does so much more for this town, he’s important. He deserves someone alongside him that will be a help not a hindrance.”

“You listen to me, and you hear me,” Tommy’s voice was firm, wide eyes focused and mouth a thin line as he spoke to you. Soft undercurrents of assurance in his tone. And you knew what he was about to say. It was always the same thing, the same sentiment, reassurance that it hadn’t been your fault. It had just been the circumstances, the world operating as it tended to do now. Unfairly. “Honey, it wasn’t your fault that those people found you. You cover your tracks well, hey, you do, okay?”

“I had been so focused on him, I didn’t, Tommy I didn’t hear them come up on us. Not their horses, not their footsteps, I didn’t even hear the gunshot until he was falling over.” Footsteps on the wooden floor thudding as you pacing back and forth, arms crossed over your chest and shaking your head in the way that you did when the thoughts got too overwhelming.

“But it wasn’t your fault. It was a messy situation, they happen. Hey, honey, they happen even to the best of us.” Tommy reached for you, standing from the chair he had taken beside you when you arrived in a flurry. Ushering you to the sun room at the back of the first floor, furthest away from the main bedroom upstairs. Maria had been in bed all day, not feeling well and had finally found the peace of sleep after an early dinner. His arms were wrapping around you and you allowed him to pull you into his chest, face pressing into his sweater.

“I should’ve been looking! I should have been more aware…”

“Shh, it’s okay, the patrol is going to go okay.” He rested his chin on the crown of your head and felt your hands tangle in the front of his clothing. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“You, ah, you…been okay?” Joel tried to break the uncharacteristically tense silence in an easy move, with a relatively harmless question. He had been up all night, wondering and worrying about this being the first longer route with you. Not that he didn’t trust in your skills and ability, but that he didn’t trust in the secrecy around why you didn’t do the longer routes. Of the things he overheard in his brother’s house just last night. Tommy had claimed that if he was to know, it had to come from you. That it wasn’t the younger man’s story to tell and Joel was trying to respect that.

And if that hadn’t sent alarm bells to rumble low in his mind, then your behavior this morning would’ve.

You hadn’t been at your house when he went to pick you up, the windows dark and the door locked. He had knocked, thinking maybe you had overslept. He had found you at the stables, cursing at the clasps of the saddle that weren’t cooperating with your ministrations to secure them. The way that you jumped when he cleared his throat and greeted you, wide eyes settling on him and body tense as if having expected someone else. Someone you had to protect yourself against, if the hand flying to your holstered gun was any indication.

Definitely concerning.

The sound of twin sets of hooves the only sound for the last fifteen miles or so. You had been content, or as well as could be considering the circumstances, beside him. Wide-brimmed hat drawn low to shadow over most of your face, body on a constant swivel as you took in the new to you surroundings. The landscape covered in autumnal tones. It was beautiful, the warm reds, oranges, and yellows of the changing trees. But it was also deadly, threats hidden within the lush tree line, just over the rolling hills, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

“Been okay.” Was your short answer, not feeling like you knew how to hold a causal conversation anymore. Not since seeing the man’s craft had cropped up in his brother’s home and the way in which he had denied your part in the idea. That paired with the anxiety of being so far out from the settlement wasn’t sitting well. “You been okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Just busy, you know?”

“You hardly ever take a moment, see you and hear talk of you bouncing around so much. Everyone must really appreciate you willing to help. The skills you have, they mean so much. They allow us a better chance to not just survive, but to live.” You wished he could see it, the way children would stare transfixed as him and Tommy led a team of people through creating things the way that they did. From foundations to frames, tiling roofs and securing windows into place. It meant growth, the ability to rebuild, it meant anticipation of the future beyond just a few days. And he helped to provide that for the settlement with the use of his hands and the skills comprised in his head.

He only hummed in response, as if he was disbelieving of the sentiment behind your words.

And then, of course:

“Is…is there a reason why you don’t do the overnight routes?” It was a cautious one, though you could hear the undertones of concerns that coated his polite curiosity. And undercurrent of worry in his beautiful eyes that had turned amber in the sunlight you caught sight of with a quick glance when he had continued to speak.

But his question was ill timed, everything too raw in you to indulge in it at the moment.

“Joel, that’s none of your business.” You felt the easy smile fade from your face as you turned away from the man. You ignored the inclination to face him, feeling the weight of his eyes watch the way you squared your shoulders. Searching for signs of something you weren’t quite sure of. You were always willing to chat with him, about everyday stuff and the heavier stuff should one of you need to vent or rant. Never talking about it back inside the walls and surrounded by the people you went out to protect. But this?

You couldn’t. It was too much, and you know your voice had turned hard, sharp.

“Shit, I’m sorry- we just, normally you’re okay with my questions. I didn’t mean to overstep a line.”

“Well, you did. Just drop it, okay?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t-“

“I get it, just, stop please.” Snapping the reigns, you clicked your tongue to get Lowry to pick up the pace of her hooves. Moving ahead, following the path that was slowly coming back to you as the event you tried to block cropped up in your mind piece by piece.

“Okay.”

It was easy, comfortable to be beside him even in uncharted territory and land new to you after so many years. Because despite the rough start to the day, having reached the proverbial fork in the road that would take you farther from Jackson you had been in so long, it was easy to feel like things might just be okay with him mounted on his own horse ahead of you.

Even despite his rather invasive question.

You felt bad for snapping at him, for being too caught up in your own mind to enjoy the time beside him.

He was always so busy around town, but out here on patrol; he was yours.

His attention not being pulled in endless directions of so many who looked to him for help and advice, for his opinion on something or other. He was so willing to take the time and fix, mend, build, repair, anything that people called on him for. He had just been trying to do the same here, now. Ensuring you were okay. Because you knew your behavior wasn’t normal. You had jumped when seeing him this morning in the stables. You hadn’t taken the offered thermos, not wanting the caffeine to make you even more jittery paired with your anxiety and nervousness. And it was silly because you knew he meant well.

He couldn’t have known the question was a landmine.

He couldn’t have known it was the one, seemingly simple question that you were unable to answer him.

He had fallen quiet since you asked him to drop it. And you felt bad. There was tension about him, in his broad shoulders and the grip of his hands on the reigns in front of him. His legs shifting more than normal as the muscles tensed and relaxed in a pattern you couldn’t quite make out. You had bothered him, with your sharp words. And you worried that you had broken some part of what this was.

“Hey, Joel?”

A huff.

“Did you finish all the coffee?”

“No, got your thermos right here.” He patted the bag attached to the saddle. You couldn’t have known he meant that it was truly your thermos. Always nestled between his own and Ellie’s, in the cabinet, in the drying rack next to the sink. Yours, and not just while on patrols.

“May I please have it?” Nerves alight, you chanced a glance. He had to have been lost in his own head, his eyes coming back to the present slowly as he cast them toward you.

“Only because you asked so nicely, sweetheart.” He leaned down to retrieve it, holding it out to you. You were careful not to brush your fingers against his own. Thinking that maybe he hadn’t been too comfortable with the casual touching that seemed to have grown in occurrence, even if he had called on you and pressed his lips to your wounded head. Undeserving of the attention he had deigned to give you, you didn’t want him to think you were doing it on purpose. Trying to impinge on his personal space in such an intimate way.

“You-your from Texas, right?” Of course you were stuttering, nervous to interact with him, to try and bridge the divide you had caused. But you still tried, not wanting to lose the dynamic you two shared, even if you had been in your head. Even if you had no intention of physical contact, you still yearned for the easy conversations you two shared.

“Right.”

“Did you see a big change between the seasons?”

He seemed to deflate, the tension in his body ebbing just as the quick beat of your heart did as he turned to look at you for the first time in hours. Calming, reacting to each other, softening in the wake of what had happened.

The village was just as you remembered, as the horses came up on a hill looking over it. It was small, a collection of long abandoned houses and businesses on the cusp of the national park that once boasted large crowds and endless visitors who came to enjoy the views. The mountains surrounding it were breathtaking, covered in the changes of the season. Looking for all the world a quaint little getaway.

Another hour and you found yourself working silently beside Joel to clear the buildings, searching for anything that could be of use for the town, for its inhabitants.

Another hour and you found yourself stood in the kitchen of a small house, rustling through the cabinets in search of whatever may be hidden within them. With a delighted hum, your fingers wrapped around the soft casing of canvas and you pulled it out from within the depths of the one you had crouched down to inspect. Joel’s jacket hushed as he turned to you at the sound, his eyes watching, ever vigilant and ready to strike sound something be wrong.

But nothing was wrong, you leaned back on your heels as you pulled the object out into the light of your flashlight. It was a canvas pouch, rolled up and secured with leather straps that had seemed to stand the test of time and decay.

“Oh my gosh, Joel!” You looked up at him with a pleased grin, teeth flashing at him as you did so. Giddy with the discovery. You set it down over your thighs and unfastened the straps, rolling out the canvas to reveal beautifully crafted handles nestled into small, slim pockets. His steps were quiet as he moved closer, shining his own flashlight onto the find. With nimble fingers you shut your own off and tucked it into the internal pocket of your dark green jacket, pulling one of the handles carefully from where it rested to reveal a sheathed chef’s knife.

The sheath was a little worse for wear, the plastic cover faded and brittle, but when you removed it, the blade proved to be in pristine condition if a little dull.

“Joel, these knives are so beautiful.” Your words were practically a purr as you checked the others to find them nearly perfect. The whole set. Each blade crafted beautifully with a wavy design of darker metal inlaid into a lighter one, the blunt side fading from dark to light. “These are classic Japanese crafted, perfectly balanced. A bit dull, but with some care and a good sharpening block they would be as good as new.”

“Oh, so you didn’t just dabble in the kitchen then.”

“Hmm?”

“You were a chef, weren’t you?”

“Oh, um, yes. But that doesn’t mean much these days, so I tend to downplay it.” You stood, the pouch rolled back up and secured.

“You let me go on about jarred tomato sauce and cereal.”

“I meant it when I said those were balanced meals, I swear!”

“Uh-huh, sure you did. Entertainin’ me, is what you were doin’.” He was delighting in the friendly banter, no true hurt or dismay in his words if the upturn of his lips on one side was an indication. The smirk allowed for that endearing dimple to appear in the pocket of his right cheek, much like his brother’s.

“Joel, no offense, but hush. Food is food.” You tried to make it seem like you hadn’t meant any harm, because you hadn’t. Food was food, back then and even more so now. It was a way to survive, important and so scarce a necessity these days. The abundance of it within the settlement still something that amazed you. The ingenuity of people to create and cultivate agriculture as a base function of humanity and community.

“I’d bet my left arm you didn’t used to think like that. Back when we had the choice between organic and fresh to mass produced and cheap.”

“Hey! Junk food was important too! You know how many times I had a family sized bag of chips for dinner?”

“No, sweetheart, how many?”

“At least twice a week.” Flicking your hand with two fingers raised up, you couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprung up from your chest. Fighting the wide smile threatening to break out on your face at the faux shock he displayed with a hand to his chest and a roll of his eyes.

“Which ones?” His brown eyes glittered in the shine of his flashlight, following your movement toward your bag left atop the couch.

“I was rather fond of sour cream and cheddar.” You could practically taste the tang of the sour cream on your tongue as you made room in your pack for the pouch of knives.

“I was a salt and vinegar man, myself.”

You just pinned him with a teasing look, one eyebrow raised up in question.

“That’s just gross, Joel.”

“And there she is, the food critic I knew you were.”

“Go to sleep, mister judgement. I’ll take the first watch.” You stuck your tongue out at him, waving him away with your hands as you settled on the couch and leaned back into the dusty cushions. His chuckle was the only response as he retreated to the only room in the house, the bed springs creaking as he settled into an equally dusty mattress.

You were already back in the saddle on Lowry and moving when it happened. Joel was adjusting the saddle on his own horse and hadn’t heard the shuffle of the leaves. The tree line was just a few yards away. And a trio of infected had just breached the end of it.

“Joel! On your six!” You shouted, reaching for your shotgun slung over your back. Joel was reaching for his own laid out atop the saddle when the horse whinnied, kicking her front legs out at the infected. He reached for the reigns, quickly trying to console the amped up horse when he was knocked to the ground. Your shot missed, his horse freaking out too much and you worried for Joel on the ground.

Your own horse began to fidget, but you calmed her with soft whispers and a quick pat to her neck.

Rolling away to avoid being trampled on, one of the Infected left caught sight of him at the movement.

You were too busy leaning heavily to the left to get a good aim at the other two as they began to tear into the throat of his horse, cutting off the distressed cries of the creature. Heavy body thudding to the ground, you fired two headshots before searching for Joel. But he was blocked from your view by the downed creature.

Careening your body over the side of your own horse until you were practically hanging from the side of it with your feet secure in the stirrups, you used gravity to aid you in getting a clear view. Your middle burned with the effort as you tried to get vision of the man fighting against the Infected that had him pinned to the ground. When you did, your mouth went dry. The claws of the Infected had managed to rake down one of his cheeks, blood bright. Breathing in, you aimed and fired.

The shrieking of the figure fell silent, and its body went limp.

Grunting, Joel shoved it off of him and scrambled back away from it with a heaving chest. He looked over his shoulder toward you, his eyes nearly black from the adrenaline, his plush lips parted as he tried to get enough air in his lungs. Eyes frantically looking him over, you could see the split in his lip from the distance.

Slinging the shotgun back over your shoulder, you dismounted and rushed to his side. Your hands reached everywhere they could as you tried to sus out any more injuries. The intention to keep them to yourself short lived and fruitless. Joel was just staring at you, no words coming from him, only the sound of his panting breath as he pushed himself up on his arms.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt your back when you fell? Kiana didn’t step on you or kick you, did she?”

The questions flowed from you in quick succession, not giving the man a chance to answer any of them as you twisted to take a kerchief from your back pocket and began to dab at his cheek as lightly as you could. He let out a low hiss as the skin throbbed, but he let you do it anyway.

“I’m okay,” He finally croaked, sitting up completely when a few tears spilled from your lash line. One of his hands cradled your face, thumb brushing them away. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you did good.”

Through your tears, you worked at getting the blood cleared from his cheek, moving to focus on his split lip and the drops of blood that had trailed down his chin. He let you, his hand falling from your own face to your shoulder, anchoring him close. When you managed to wipe away what you could you sighed, blinking the tears from your eyes as best you could.

His eyes were so soft when you looked into them, watching. Your breath stalled for the barest of moments as you wondered if he would wear the same open expression right before a kiss. Heat flooded your face as you realized you had dug your other hand into the soft curls at the back of his head to help keep him steady and his eyes dilated at the sound. Your sore body protested as you leaned in impossibly closer, chest brushing against his.

The long travel had magnified the scent of him, cedar and sweat dizzying this close to him and it made you want to bury yourself in his arms. To burrow into him and just stay there, enjoying in the warmth and safety you felt when around him.

His eyes fluttered closed at the gentle press of your lips to the scratch on his cheek, tension leaking out of his own sore muscles at the feel. Nose brushing against his own, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to press your other hand to his chest and press him back to the ground, to straddle his thighs and show him how much he was beginning to mean to you. But that would be far too forward.

Heartbeat tittering, your eyes roved over his face, gauging his reaction to the uncharacteristic display. His face was so handsome, the trimmed scruff dusting his cheeks a mix of silver and gray complimenting the tan of his weathered skin decorated with sparse freckles, a patch vaguely resembling a heart low near his chin. And you fleetingly pressed your lips to it, unable to resist. The muscle in his jaw twitched at the pressure, but he didn’t move otherwise, eyes still closed shut.

Despite the journey from the day before and an overnight stay in an abandoned building, you still smelled faintly of the woody, floral scent. It was stronger due to the tense situation of a few moments ago, lingering in the sweat you had felt bead up along the back of your neck and the small of your back.

He seemed to breathe it in, his inhale catching in his throat when you couldn’t help the temptation of pressing your lips to where his bottom one was split in a chaste kiss, caught up in mingling of your scents and the effect he was having on you being so close.

“There,” You breathed against him, fingers clenching around the curls in your grip, surprised he hadn’t jerked away from the rather inappropriate move. His eyes remained shut, as you leaned back to look over the entirety of his face. You felt a nervous flutter of warmth low in your middle, mirroring the words he had whispered to you in your kitchen just a few days ago. “All better.”

Your body was alight with the feel of his body behind you. His chest bumping into your back on every jaunt of Lowry moving over the terrain. You hadn’t been able to look directly at him, keeping your eyes downcast in embarrassment as you had helped him up from where he had fallen. Your hands small in his as you had done so, but immediately dropping the contact once he had been back up on his feet.

It had been silent for a long pause, no words coming from either of you as he gathered what he could from the saddle of the downed horse and you adjusted your own belongings to make room. Lowry had been rather worked up, deservedly so at seeing her friend and own patrol partner taken out in such a gruesome way. The beginning of the journey back to Jackson started off on foot, you on one side of her and Joel on the other, guiding her back at her own pace.

But somewhere after the first couple of hours, you had begun to drag your feet. The adrenaline of the morning waning and leaving you utterly exhausted. That’s how you found yourself seated in the front of the saddle on your horse, Joel’s firm body behind you. His height, even while seated, allowed for every other breath to rustle the hair atop your head. The wide brimmed hat you donned while on patrol hanging from the front of the saddle so as to not bump him or obstruct his vision.

But he kept his hands to himself, save for when he gripped your hips when the horse tipped your combine gravity on the errant downslope of the route.

“Get some rest,” Joel’s words were a haze as you twisted to wave a parting at him. Safely back within the walls of the settlement and having completed the patrol write up. The loss of a horse something you were sure wouldn’t be overlooked, even in light of how it happened. You could’ve saved her, but had been too slow to find aim. But the only thing on your mind right now was a warm bath to wash away the day and then the comfort of your bed.

“You too, Joel.” You turned back to face forward, feet carrying you slowly even if the desire to be unconscious was a strong pull to pick up the pace toward your home.

“Hey, Olive?” Hesitant, the sound of your nickname was in his voice.

“Yes?” You pivoted once more, taking in the way he was looking at you. Concern in his dark eyes and softening his features. The feel of his lips sparking through you as you lingered on them. But you pushed it down, knowing it was one-sided and would always be so. He didn’t see you like that, couldn’t see you like that with all the attention he got from around town. So many other people to entertain and you were just another.

“You can always talk to me, you know, about anything. I’ll always listen to what you have to say.”

“Yeah,” The denial of you suggesting the cutting board washed over you, deflating you even more so in the late afternoon. “But I wouldn’t want everyone to think we do talk. Seemed pretty keen on hiding it from your brother the other day.”

“That- that wasn’t why I said it was my idea.” His jaw jumped, the muscle clenching and unclenching, his hands mimicking the motion at his sides. A heavy sigh deflated his own chest. “I was…embarrassed because it was the first one I made. It-it wasn’t very good.”

“Joel, everything you make is well done.” You assured even as you turned from him and walked away.

“I’m so glad you came back okay from that long patrol, Joel. We would’ve missed your amazing hands.”

Joel tried his best to tune the woman out, Marsha liked to ramble to him when he called on her to fix things in her house. She was about his age, an appropriate age. Headed the gardens and yearly plantings, helped out in the mess hall, and tried to help Tommy keep up with the holidays in order to make the town feel a little more comforted. But today, her words felt weird. Like a backhanded comment to something he intended to figure out. Because it felt like it was about you rather than just a well-meaning sentiment.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Joel tried to keep his voice even, tempered. But he could feel tingles of anxiety come to life in his chest.

“Oh, I’m just saying, everyone was rather shocked that you got stuck with Olive for Teton. She hasn’t been on anything other than her two morning routines in, gosh, such a long time n-“ He surged up from where he had been underneath the sink. The steady beading of water from the cracked pipe measuring the tense passage of time as he stood to his full height. The wrench in his hand pressed into his stomach as he placed his hands on his hip and looked directly at the woman who had been hovering over him as he worked. She had been idly peaking potatoes on the counter beside the sink, making sure to stick close to him like she tended to do when he was in her home.

But she had fallen quiet at the direct attention, a flush visible on the tips of her ears and the swell of her cheeks.

“Did you say ‘stuck with Olive’? Because I can assure you, she’s capable enough to not be talked about that way.” His brow furrowed as his lips tugged downward in a frown, unsure where this woman got the gall to sling around talk of you like this. To him, of all people. He wasn’t completely daft, he knew the women around town fawned over him. Both the younger ones like yourself and those closer to his own age and beyond. But he ignored it, because he wasn’t here for that, his heart didn’t soften for just anyone. And the woman in front of him was bad mouthing the one it had without him even realizing.

“I just meant that- since she’s so much younger and doesn’t have as much experience as you-“

“Hold on, lemme stop you right there.” Joel held out a hand, the wrench acting as a barrier between their bodies. “Olive is more than capable of being my partner on patrol. It don’t matter what her experience is compared to my own. And I don’t like the insinuation of her not being anything other than a hardworking person who willingly puts her life on the line for this town.”

“She just- there was an incident a while ago-“

“I don’t care what happened a while ago, she’s good to me now.” Anger flared, tinging his eyes into the deep, dark tone of fresh brewed coffee. His grip around the wrench was pulling the muscles in his hand, causing an ache that was becoming far too familiar a sensation. But he kept his focus on the woman in front of him, the one who had felt like it was okay to talk about you in such a way in his company, to him.

He was always polite, always lending an ear to what the people of the town wanted to say, allowing for easy conversation most of the time, but this was something he wouldn’t allow and the tone of his voice had shifted. It was assertive and left no room for interpretation that he didn’t share the sentiment of the woman in front of him. And then he thought back to the other night before the route in question.

Tommy had been consoling you, telling you to ignore the things people were saying about you, the rumors that had cropped up once your name had been added next to his on the assignment sheet. This woman had apparently been the cause of your tears, the fuel to your already present insecurities flaring and making you close in on yourself. This woman had taken the teasing jokes, sweet laughter, soft smiles, and easy-going conversation typical of time spent with you and stolen it from him. Tainted the air so badly that you had been decidedly not yourself on the last patrol and so wound up that you had snapped at him.

“She’s done nothing to deserve the way you’re speaking about her, and I would like you to apologize.”

“Joel, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you.” Her eyes shifted frantically over his face, realizing that she had offended him with her casual words. “I was saying that-“

“Not to me, to her.” He cut off her words with rough ones of his own. Past the point of caring about being polite and heeding everything the town needed his help with at the moment. All he cared about right now was you, and how you had been singled out as the most recent subject of town gossip. He tried to tamp it and he had gotten fairly good at keeping his frustrations to himself. Ellie being the recipient when she was particularly stubborn and bull headed, but she got that from him too. From traveling with him for as long as it had taken them, their entire journey now allowing for them to explore the softer and kinder parts of themselves within the safety of the settlement.

But right now? Joel felt like he was back outside of them, the need to protect and eradicate any perceived threat strong. Thrumming in him as he felt like what was his was being singled out and targeted.

“But-“

“We clear?”

Marsha squeaked out an affirmative, her hands wringing around each other over her middle. Without a glance toward the open cupboards beneath the sink, Joel gathered his toolbox laid open beside them and his flashlight.

“Need a new pipe, nothing else I can do at the moment. Tommy will be by before nightfall with a replacement.”

He didn’t bid her goodbye as he walked through the front of her house and out the front door. Leaving the shell-shocked woman standing in her kitchen with her heart beating rapidly in her chest at his rather uncharacteristic display of anger.

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

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[ladylokilaufeyson5]

Where The Shadows Dance - The Bodyguard (ii)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER II: The Bodyguard

SUMMARY: The Night Court must decide who shall remain to protect the Daughter of Autumn, while also getting to know the princess with a fiery soul.

WARNINGS: More misogyny! yay! mentions of alcohol, tw: beron (we all hate him its ok), people talking shit behind y/n's back, probably swearing i can't remember (also i just swore in the warning so like... it's possible), daddy issues!

NOTE: once again special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for reading over my work! <33

WORDS: 2K

Sitting in the quarters Beron had assigned to the Night Court guests, the inner circle debated how to approach this situation they had found themselves in. 

One of them was to play bodyguard for the Princess of the Autumn Court. Of course, there were many logistics to sort out, ranging from the most obvious one – who would be the assigned bodyguard – to smaller details, such as whether they needed more than one Night Court member to remain in Autumn.

“I’m telling you, they’re a bunch of snakes,” Cassian said firmly. “We can’t just leave one person behind. What if this is a ploy?”

“That is true,” Feyre mused, “but why bother to make a ploy at all? We fought in the war together, and an unprovoked attack against the Night Court would cause another war. And Beron must know that the other courts would be on our side.”

Amren sighed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Cassian. We can’t trust these people.”

Azriel stayed silent, mulling it all over. It was all true — fighting for the same side in the war had brought the courts together, but then again, there were people like Eris and his brothers lurking in this court.

A soft knock on the door prompted everyone to look towards the sound. After a moment, the door opened, revealing Eris, a small smile on his face.

“It is lovely to see you all in a different scenery,” Eris commented after he had closed the door.

“Eris,” Rhysand greeted. “How can we help you?”

Eris went ahead and took a seat in a scarlet chair beside the fireplace, relaxing with ease. Azriel supposed it would be easier to do so now that he was in his own home, but the sight still frustrated the shadowsinger.

“I just wanted to see what you all thought of my father’s… proposition,” Eris said casually.

“Did you know?” Cassian questioned.

Eris shrugged. “I did tell you that it had something to do with my sister.”

“There was an attempt on her life, which you failed to mention,” Azriel stated.

Eris just smiled calmly. “Must have slipped my mind.”

This was exactly what Cassian had been talking about before, Azriel knew. They were cunning and sly in the Autumn Court, and that made them dangerous.

“Anything else that may have ‘slipped your mind’?” Azriel inquired.

Eris turned his gaze to the shadowsinger, a small smirk on his face. Azriel wanted to punch the male, and he remembered the feel of his neck beneath his hands, and how close he could have come to killing the heir before him. He sort of wished he had.

“My father has already chosen which member of your court he wants as Y/n’s bodyguard,” Eris revealed.

Azriel blinked. Despite the fact that Beron had given them the illusion of free choice, of course the male had already decided. After looking at Eris expectantly, Rhysand realised the male would not freely give up this information.

“Who?” the High Lord asked.

Eris glanced at Azriel. “The shadowsinger, of course.”

Everyone looked at Azriel, and the Illyrian wanted to shrink away from the attention. Why him? Yes, perhaps he appeared more gentlemanly than Cassian, as he knew how to keep his mouth shut, but what else? Yes, he was the Spymaster for the Night Court, but Cassian was the general of the armies. Amren terrified everyone, and yes, she’d be more than capable to be a bodyguard, but then again, Amren might kill the princess if she annoyed her.

“Why Azriel?” Rhys questioned.

Eris looked at the High Lord as if he was incompetent. “Is he not the most obvious choice? That one–” he nodded to Cassian, “–has already tainted a female promised to the Autumn Court.”

Rage, icy cold, flowed through Azriel at the implications behind Eris's words. ‘A female promised to the Autumn Court’ was very obviously Mor, and the entitlement in his tone…

“First of all, I have a mate–” Cassian growled, but Rhysand cut him off.

“Let's not argue,” the High Lord said firmly, although silent fury shone in his eyes at Eris's words. “We're all allies here.”

Eris rolled his eyes but said nothing more, and Cassian glared at the Autumn Court heir, clearly imagining all the ways he could rip him apart.

“Didn't Azriel try to kill you at the High Lord's meeting?” Amren mused.

Eris glowered at the female. “Well, we certainly can't have you here. Your mere presence makes the courtiers uneasy.”

“I did save your asses during the war,” Amren reminded him, but she seemed more than pleased that she still terrified people. 

Azriel let out a breath. He had guessed that it would be himself who would have to play bodyguard, but how could he do so when his job was one of utmost importance to the Night Court? Even now, with Nyx only half a year old, there were so many threats that needed to be uncovered and eliminated.

Azriel glanced at Rhysand and Feyre. Both had been reluctant to leave their son behind for a week, but they knew it would be much too dangerous to bring him to the Autumn Court. Nesta, Elain, and Mor had promised to take care of him while they were gone, and Nyx was probably having the time of his life with his Aunts.

What do you think? Rhys asked Azriel, mind to mind.

Azriel pondered his answer for a moment. I would be willing to do it, but to leave you without a Spymaster for the Cauldron knows how long…

I think we can manage for a little while, Rhys replied, a grin twinkling in his eyes.

Azriel nodded his confirmation. It was true — his court members were not truly useless without him. Just slightly disadvantaged, but they knew how to take care of themselves.

“I'll do it,” Azriel said aloud.

Cassian looked at his brother, eyes widened slightly with silent warning. Amren appeared disinterested in the conversation, but Azriel knew she was listening to every word. Eris simply nodded, as if he already knew Azriel would agree.

“Good,” Eris replied. “I will allow you to share the news with my father in your own time.”

The heir then got up and exited the room, leaving the Night Court members by themselves.

“I need a drink,” Amren muttered.

The following week was a whirlwind. Every morning, afternoon, and evening, the Night Court members dined with the Autumn Court, and the Autumn Court members also showed them their home. It was mostly Y/n showing them around the palace and the grounds, with Autumn guards trailing closely behind.

Y/n was a different person when she was not around her father. She was much more talkative, and quick to joke and tease. After a few days, it was clear that Cassian adored the princess and her witty comebacks, and she clearly enjoyed the freedom of banter with him. It was almost as if they were destined to be best friends. But whenever any member of her family was present, she would go quiet, and exhibit “lady-like” speech and actions.

Azriel had heard many of the Autumn Court’s opinions of her through his shadows, and none of them were particularly fond. Wild, untamed, unlady-like, and irritating, were the words most commonly used to describe the princess in secret, but Azriel had a feeling she did not care what she thought about them. He could tell that she only cared what her father thought — perhaps not for praise, but rather in fear of punishment.

“So, have you decided which of you will be protecting me after this week?” she asked the Night Court members as they walked through the Royal apple orchard. The apples were the finest Azriel had ever tasted, and he wondered whether there was some kind of magic behind it to make them so.

“We have discussed it,” Rhysand replied, plucking an apple from a tree and handing it to his mate. Feyre took the apple with a smile.

Y/n sighed deeply. “I wish I could go to the Night Court with you. It sounds beautiful.”

While the Night Court members had told the princess a little bit about their home, the Autumn daughter was an avid reader, and had mentioned that she’d always been interested in The Night Court. She would read any book on their court a hundred times, and had learned about Starfall, Illyrians, and many other Night Court customs. When Rhys questioned her on the books she had read, she had become slightly evasive in her answers.

“I borrowed them,” Y/n had said casually.

Azriel had raised an eyebrow. “Borrowed, or stole?”

The grin the princess threw his way had set his heart racing, but he had no idea why. “I prefer the term 'mischievously possess.’”

Cassian had barked out a laugh, and even Amren had smiled slightly.

But as well as spending time with the princess, Azriel had other things to do. When she showed him the castle, he memorised it. He marked every exit, window, door, hiding place — everything. If he was to be her bodyguard, he would have to have the entire layout memorised. For her protection, but also for his. He didn’t doubt for one second that if he let his guard down, one of her brothers, maybe even Eris himself, would try to stab him in the back. Literally.

Eventually, the week came to an end, and the members of the Night Court gathered in the Autumn Court throne room. Azriel supposed that bonds had been slightly strengthened between the courts, but not by much. Mistrust was hard to get rid of, especially when there were centuries and generations of it.

“We have come to a decision,” Rhy told Beron, his hands resting in his pockets. “And my High Lady and I shall allow you to employ one of my warriors as your daughter’s bodyguard.”

Beron nodded, his gaze flicking to Azriel for a brief moment before going back to Rhys. “And have you decided which warrior shall be protecting my daughter?”

That glance told Azriel that Eris had been telling the truth. Beron hoped that it was the shadowsinger who would be playing bodyguard, and it made sense now. Although what didn’t make sense was the fact that Eris had not lied.

“Azriel shall remain behind to guard your daughter,” Rhys promised. 

“Wonderful,” Beron said with a nod. “Thank you for this, Rhysand. The Autumn Court shall never forget this favour.”

Rhys nodded at the High Lord, and both of them shook hands, their goodbye quick and brief. The Night Court's goodbyes to Azriel were lengthy in comparison.

“Stay safe,” Rhys told Az, clapping him on the back. “Our mental bridge will be open at all times. Let me know if there’s any trouble.”

“You act as if I can’t take care of myself,” Azriel replied, a half smirk on his face.

Rhys rolled his eyes and brought his brother into a hug, the eyes on them be damned. When Rhys pulled away, Cassian was there next, squeezing the shadowsinger into a hug that nearly crushed his bones.

“I’ll miss you, Azzie,” Cassian whispered in Azriel’s ear, which set him scowling. Cassian grinned and pulled away, Feyre replacing him. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek in farewell, and before Az knew it, the Night Court disappeared into the void, leaving him alone in the Autumn Court.

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#azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger x reader #shadowsinger x reader #acotar azriel #x reader #azriel #fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #where the shadows dance #wtsd

[shanastoryteller]

Have a happy Valentine’s Day! Hokage daughter au?

a continuation of 1 2

Tsume likes Minato. He's one of the strongest ninjas she's ever come across and he's an exceptionally fair hokage while not going too far that it becomes a weakness.

He is not, however, an exceptionally good father. She would have described him as a good husband, before, but Kushina has never been able to forgive him for what he did to their daughter.

Kushina is still stuck on that day in more ways than one. The combination of a difficult birth and the fox demon ripping itself from her wrecked her body and chakra coils to an extent that she's barely an active duty ninja. But it's not just physical. Kushina lives in fear of that moment repeating, of finding herself powerless and trapped as her husband chooses protecting their village over their child, and it clouds her judgement.

Tsume can't fault Minato's choice, personally, considering what was at stake, nor Kushina's reaction when she woke up to find her infant daughter turned into a demon container.

She can't fault either of them for that day, but she faults them both for every day that came after.

Minato finds looking at his daughter to be painful, sees her as his failure as a father and a husband, and Kushina only sees her as the child she failed to protect from the one person she never thought she'd have to protect her from.

Naruto is so much more than that.

The girl graduated Top Kunoichi. She stopped a coup and saved the Uchiha as an academy student, for fuck's sake. She's spent her whole childhood getting into trouble, outrunning ANBU and hiding from her own clansmen when she breaks in to pet the puppies or goad Kiba into playing with her.

Anyone with eyes can see that whatever ill effects were supposed to occur from her containing the nine tails aren't there. She's strong and smart and clever which is even more important than being smart. She regularly beats clan heirs into the dirt and runs circles around whatever poor ANBU has been assigned to watch her.

But Minato and Kushina have never been able to see their daughter properly.

"What are you hiding from me?" she asks Naruto after another training session where she and Sasuke show up clearly having already trained together. She wishes she could spy on them, but it's in the Uchiha compound, which won't let her dogs in, and there's no Uchiha that will betray Naruto.

She grins, arms raised as she stretches her arms above her head. "Me? Hiding things? I'm an open book, Sensei."

Sakura scrunches her nose and Sasuke keeps his face carefully neutral in a way that means he's laughing at her.

Tsume growls at them but lets it go - she has a clan to run and training these brats takes up enough of her time as it is.

Besides. What she doesn't know, she doesn't have to report to the hokage.

Which she's pretty sure is the reason Naruto's not telling her.

Clever girl.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #naruto

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

part 2, part 3, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: none, really. AND THEY WERE POSSIBLE ROOMMATES, MAYBE?

Context: 3k words. Reader is a barista and she only meets Bakugo at the end of this </3. He’s her boss but she doesn’t know. I don’t delve into this tho, just so you know. They’re both 22.

A/N: never thought I’d write a slow burn but I HATE not giving context. This is just me yapping with zero grammar context whatsoever. The reader is super oc in this one, but all the girl names I thought about were UGLY. Let me know what you think about it!

“No.”

“Come onnnn it’s gonna be just this one time” pleads your best friend from the other end of the phone.

“Ochaco, you know I hate when you pull this shit” you reply, while putting your jacket on.

“I knowww, but listen, me and the cute guy have had NO time for ourselves lately and-“

“And you’re leaving me doing this assignment with who knows who? We’re always partners for physics, you know I can’t do it all alone and you can’t phrase your deductions to save your life. We complete each other. You’re my soulmate. Why are you leaving me for a guy?” you whine, while closing the door of your apartment and walking towards your car.

“It’s gonna be just this one time, I promise! It’s not like we’re gonna fail. I think. I hope…” she mumbles.

You sigh. “If we do fail, you’re getting your ass beaten, I am so for real” you concede after thinking about it. You start your car and put your phone on speaker.

“BABEEE I love youuuu! You know you’re the only one for me! I promise to finally tell you all the details on Saturday” she squeals.

You wince. “Nah, I can’t this Saturday. I have to work, manager is on vacay. Maybe Sunday?” you said, knowing she will start rambling.

“Y/N just leave that place, they don’t even value you as a person, let alone as a worker. Plus, your manager is a bitch” Ochaco says sternly. “I still haven’t got over the fact she makes you work double shifts just because she wants to be in Bali with her new stupid tomboy. Who, by the way, cheats on her. You said so yourself, and I heard him and your colleague going at it that one time I came to visit you last week -not Momo, bless her heart, how is she by the way?- oh and he steals her money. And-“

“I need the money, and I do love to make coffees for the nice old ladies that tip me” you interrupt your more-than-protective best friend, knowing that she could go on complaining for hours if you didn’t stop her. “Also, I just got to the cafe and I’m already running late. I’ll text you when I get off, okay? Love you”.

“Yeah yeah. Don’t overwork yourself too much, love you” and you hang up.

You and Ochaco have been friends since you were babies. Your parents were neighbours back in your hometown, and your moms coincidentally got pregnant in a span of 2 months apart from each other. You have been attached to the hip all of your school years, and fortunately you have been accepted at the same campus at university. You moved to different apartments because you wanted to be independent, but you are still living pretty near each other. You are enrolled in literature, while Ochaco has a passion for astronomy; you had chosen physics as a bonus class for some extra credits since Ochaco said it would be easy and you trusted her, but she didn’t take into consideration that you failed math throughout all of high school, and she had to save your ass multiple times in the past. You’ll never forget her face when she got an 86% on one of the graded tests she did for you: she was so disappointed she made you ask the professor to redo the test, which you barely knew the basics of. She got 100%, and the professor congratulated you (her) for being such an overachiever. You never felt more ashamed of yourself and proud of your best friend at the same time. On the other hand, she made you do her English essays on a monthly basis, so she really wasn’t in the place to complain about doing all the dirty work for you.

You had partnered up with her since she was a genius, but she met this “cute guy” a month ago and was head over heels for him. She still hasn’t said his name to you, all you know is that he is a part of the physics course and he apparently just stole your assignment partner.

You sigh inwardly. Sometimes you wished love could come to you as easily as it comes to Ochaco. She is a lover girl at heart, nicer than anybody could ever hope to be, but she sure could bite if she had to. She has been there for some of the worst moments of your life, and you have done the same for her. You really didn’t know what you would do without her. Maybe you should get her an apology pastry from the cafe’s leftovers to make up for the last two missed Saturdays (“they’re for the girls!” she said, and you meticulously met up every week up until you had gotten a job).

You’re a bit distracted by thinking about her when you get into the place you work at. It’s a cute cafe, a little bit too orange for your taste, but it’s cozy enough to make work pleasurable. Plus, it’s 5 minutes from your apartment (15 if you walk, but you are lazy). They pay on time, the coffee is good and the clientele isn’t too bad. If it wasn’t for-

“You’re 32 seconds late. You’re getting a formal complaint this time” says your manager, waiting for you with her arms crossed.

“Put that on the note that says I worked 8 extra hours a week for the last 5 months. Hello to you too, weren’t you supposed to be in the Philippines or whatever by now?” you say sickening sweet, with the fakest smile you can muster, while you pass next to her to get to the room behind the register.

“Shut your smart mouth up before I get you fired!” she almost screams. Some of the people at the table near her look at her like she’s crazy before going back to their cappuccino.

“My oh my miss Utsushimi, it’s not nice to use that tone before the rush hour” you reply, giving an apologetic look at your regulars next to her.

“Mpfh, whatever. Close up this place when you’re done, the boss will probably be in to ask you for the keys at the end of your shift. I’ll be MIA for the next two weeks, bye” she says to you. Then she turns around and smiles sweetly at the clients who previously looked at her with distaste and lies “pregnancy hormones I hope, me and my man are trying for a baby, I’m sorry for scaring you!”. You know damn well she had an IUD appointment last week, because she made you work instead of working herself. Fake bitch.

Without saying anything else, she leaves the place.

“I hate her ass so much”, says someone next to you.

You snicker. “Who doesn’t, Momo?” you face her with a genuine smile.

“Never leave me alone with her ever again, you know I can’t survive this place without you, work wifey” she kisses your cheek fast, before going back to making coffee for a client at the register.

“Ochaco will be hearing about this and she’ll slap you” you laugh heartily.

“I love her too, she’s my work wifey’s wifey, so she’s basically my wifey” she winks at you.

After a few more laughs here and there, you both go back to work like usual.

A couple of hours pass and it’s closing time. Momo waves you goodbye, clocking out. “I’m so tired I could sleep on the floor right now” she whines.

“Yeah, how about no. Let’s go, babe. We don’t want to drag Y/N’s time” says her boyfriend, Shoto, who shoots you a nod of acknowledgement before placing a hand on her lower back and escorting her out of the cafe. “I remember suffering at closing times, let’s leave her be and go home” he nudges your colleague, smiling down at her. He has been inside the cafe a lot in the years you’ve worked here, sometimes picking Momo up. Momo says he was one of the best bartenders the cafe ever had, but he found a job that payed him more and he decided to leave. You couldn’t blame him.

“See you soon, you two lovebirds!” you reply, waving a hand of your own.

Now all alone since even the waiters have gone home, you clean up the counter before packing up the pastry for Ochaco.

“Damn, I have to wait for the boss to give him the keys” you remember, rubbing your face.

You wait 45 minutes before a redhead makes his way into the cafe. He seems busy on the phone with someone.

“I’m here, let me just get- fuck no I don’t wanna talk to Camie about it, Baku- no, wait- fire? Are you going to take her place and finally come down here like the boss you are? Yes, I know- what? And where would we- what do I have to do with all of this? No, I’m going home- fuck, he hung up” the man sighs, before turning his body towards you.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, not really manly from me” he smiles, looking sorry.

“Oh don’t worry about it!” your smile was really stretched, and you think he notices, because he says “sorry” again. “The manager said to give you the keys. So you’re the boss?” you say politely, stretching your hand with the keys towards him.

You’ve seen him multiple times, he’s a regular. He always gets the same order (one black coffee and one hot chocolate with extra cinnamon), and he always tips you and Momo well. Today he seems distressed.

“I wouldn’t wish to be the boss, to be fair. You could say I’m his right hand. Where’s Camie? Boss needs to talk to her in private before next week comes” he sighs.

“She said she’ll be gone for two weeks” you reply, confused.

“And who said she could do that?” Kirishima, you think that’s his name since you’ve written it on his order just yesterday, looks at you in disbelief. You shrug. “I don’t ask. The less I know about her, the better I feel about working here”. You start to pack your things up, before going towards the door with the man following behind you closely.

“This is nuts. I hate doing job interviews” he mumbles fast, turning the key in the lock. You raise an eyebrow, what is he even talking about?

“Do you live near? If not, I could give you a ride. I’d hate losing the only barista who makes boss man’s drink good enough to not make him pissy” he says, while pointing to his car.

You laugh. “It’s just a hot chocolate. Tell him he should try it with a few drops of hot sauce in it. Sounds disgusting but it’s actually pretty good. Also don’t worry, I live just down the street”. He nods and you wave each other goodbye.

“It does sound horrible. Thanks again for waiting, see you tomorrow for the same exact order I always make” he grins, then gets in his car and drives away, not after seeing you get in your car as well.

Once at home you call Ochaco, who’s “been worried sick, you never get home this late”.

“Y/N you seriously need a roommate. Did you even eat?” she reprimands.

You sigh. “I have to meet someone tomorrow. But you know, girls tend to look at you weirdly when you say you need them to know how to cook. They feel like you’re looking for a maid. Like, I can’t eat sandwiches every day like I did with the last roommate I had” you explain while opening your fridge. Sausages and smashed potatoes from yesterday will do the job for today.

“The psycho who thought vegetables made her look weak? Freak” you hear your best friend snicker. “At what time are they coming over?”

You groan and say “8 am. It’s a guy this time. Who wakes up before 8 am at uni? He’s already lost 2 points for this” while gulping down your food.

Ochaco’s snicker is now a full laugh. “People who have their lives together, maybe? But pay attention, males scare me” she replies quieting down.

“Yeah yeah. I’m gonna sleep now, text me the deets for Sunday, okay?” you clean your plate and go to the bathroom to wash your teeth.

“Will doooo. Good night, babe” she smooches on the mic before hanging up.

After making sure you locked your apartment door, you go to your bed, where you manage to fall asleep in thirty seconds.

The next morning you’re brutally awakened by the sound of your doorbell. You look at your phone screen: 7:42 am.

“Who the fuck is it now?” you grumble, before going down the stairs and looking through your peephole.

“Shitty hair I swear if this takes me more than 10 minutes… she hasn’t even opened the door. Yeah, she said 8 am, who cares if I’m early? I AM NOT the only one awake on a Saturday morning. Y’all are just lazy fucks” a blonde rudely says into his phone. You can hear him talking loudly from behind the door. You widen your eyes, before screaming “coming! Give me 5 minutes!” and rushing towards your bathroom to make yourself presentable. “Fuck, I forgot about the roommate appointment” you whine, while putting on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. At least they are clean.

You open the door to find a broad man staring at you menacingly. He’s kinda tall, kinda (really) fit, kinda underdressed for the winter. Kinda hot, too.

“Hi, how can I help you?” you offer him the nicest smile your still sleepy mind can muster.

He looks you up and down, before focusing on your face and levelling you with an indifferent look.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Katsuki Bakugo, we had to meet at 8 am for the spare room offer. I've been here for 15 minutes” he gruffly declares.

You add “rude” to your list of “kinda”. You don’t like his tone. -1 point.

“Yeah, and it’s 7:48” you bite back, your smile faltering while shaking his outstretched hand. He’s definitely going to the gym with the callouses he has.

“Come in, I’ll let you see what you’re getting yourself into”, you say, opening your door more.

You live in a nice apartment, you think. There’s a nice kitchen with a nice island that also serves as a table in front of it, a blueish couch in front of the tv, and a couple of steps that bring you to a corridor with three doors: your room, the spare one and the bathroom.

You describe everything while he stays in absolute silence next to you. It makes you feel uneasy. -1 point.

You just finished showing him the bathroom and are ready to tell him you don’t think he’s a good suitor when he finally speaks up.

“And how much do you pay for this shit?” he asks. Nice voice, you think. Gravelly and rough enough to not sound annoyingly forced. +1 point.

“500 a month” you reply, while returning to the kitchen.

“Your shower needs some work done, it leaks. Also, mold is starting to show on the bathroom ceiling, might wanna check on that. Your oven looks unusable in the condition it’s in. Small tv. At least you’re clean from what I've seen” he begins to say.

You frown and turn to look at him. Did this bitch talk for the first time in 15 minutes only to complain?

“Do you even know how to cook with said oven?” you say, ignoring everything else he just said, and giving him a nasty look.

He tsks. “Yes. Is this your way of asking me to cook you fucking breakfast? I don’t eat with lazy people who get out of bed at 11 am” he makes sure to say.

You scoff. Men really do find the audacity to say stuff like this nowadays? It seems like you've been out of the loop for too much.

“You showed up early. It’s a sign of disrespect, you know? Also no, I know how to fix myself something. I just don’t want you to burn my kitchen down to a crisp and smell takeout whenever I get home” you say in the rudest way you find possible.

He smirks before saying “might wanna check on that fucking attitude of yours too before I poison your food”, tapping your shoulder to get you out of the way and take out some pans. You showed him where to find them earlier on.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you say in disbelief. “This is still my kitchen. Get out”.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m making you fucking breakfast to say sorry for interrupting your princess sleep. Just make coffee while I come up with something. If you know how to make it, that is” he doesn’t even look at you while getting eggs, milk and bread out of the fridge.

You’re baffled. He’s making himself at home when you didn’t even say he was accepted.

“Wait, you’re still not-“

“I'll give you the money at the start of every month. I’ll paint the walls of the room, I hate that fucking green, but painters are scammers so I’m doing it myself. I’m clean, I’ll just need a spare key in a matter of days to take my shit here. I’ll keep myself in my room if you keep yourself in yours. Any further requests?” he interrupts you, assembling his french toasts on the pan.

You’re even more stunned. But you’ve always been quick with your thoughts, so you come up with something.

“I’ll say yes if those french toasts are good. If they’re not, your ass is out” you say, still not looking at him, while making coffee.

“Might say yes if you know how to make a hot chocolate from scratch instead of the poor coffee that machine will make” he watches you from the corner of his eye. You scoff, you’re a barista nonetheless: who does he think he’s talking to? Meanwhile, he could swear he knew you from somewhere.

“Deal”.

“Deal”.

Neither to say, the french toasts were “not that bad” and your hot chocolate was “barely fucking acceptable”.

#bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #bnha #barista au #bakugo fluff #i guess #how do you tag #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #and they were roommates #bakugo knows how to cook in this one

[starshipsofstarlord]

Sleepless

Summary -> On the farm, you struggle to fall asleep due to all the things that you know that surround you, from the walkers in the barn to Shane. The only thing that can make you feel any comfort is Daryl (1.4k)

Warnings -> harassment, angst, fluff, manipulation, mention of death, fighting, swearing

daryl dixon / norman reedus works masterlist

No matter how many times you had attempted to fall asleep, it was nearly impossible. You and the group that you had found in Atlanta had set up camp on the Greene's farm, everything seemed too good to be true, and that is exactly what it was.

Glenn had told you about the captive walkers that were held up in the barn, and it was only a matter of time until Shane with his explosive temper took control of the situation. It was better when you didn't know about the holding cell for the dead, but there was nothing that you could do to erase the cursed knowledge from your brain.

It was easier to stay awake, and so you sat beside the small fire that was throwing heat at you, whilst your comrades had already retreated to their tents. The snap of a twig alerted your ears to the presence of another, and instantaneously you were on defence, grasping your knife from the loop of your weaponry belt in the grip of your hand.

A part of you hoped that it was Daryl whom had been so cooped up with finding the whereabouts of Sophia, which made yo love him even more, however your luck dwindled when you saw who it was.

It was a boulder of a man that had changed a lot from the time that you had met him, his eyes were dark and dangerous as he headed towards you, some kind of intent in his unfaltering steps.

"Couldn't sleep either?" You asked Shane, loosening your grip on the sharp object in your hand but refusing to let it go. He grunted a reply and a stiff nod in relation to your enquiry, sitting close next to you, which made your bones stiffen. Since his best friend Rick Grimes had made a return into his life, it was as though a switch had been switched in that mind of his.

You tried not to think of his tale of how Otis had supposedly sacrificed himself either, as you among others had suspicions that he hadn't quite told you all the truth. "Something like that." He spoke. You'd never had much interaction with the man since he founded the old camp for you and the other survivors, unless you were killing walkers together or occasionally assigned to check the perimeter, however Daryl had always reminded you to be careful.

Shane may have been on the same journey as the rest of you, but he'd become more damaged through your journey to live so far. "At least there's some stars to watch, I loved looking up at them as a kid. Now the worlds gone to shit, but that is one of the only things that has't changed." It felt strange having a conversation so light hearted with the man, but it was just to bide time in your eyes until morning arose.

"Can't say the same about your taste in men - after all you're dating that redneck that is lost in the thought that he'll actually find the girl out there. I'm sure before all this you had some kind of self respect." He scoffed, which. Only made you shoot a glare at him which was equally matched with one of his own. But you knew not to retaliate, for your own protection, not after how he had hurt Lori as she had told you in secrecy.

"I think I'm tired after all." You gritted out from behind your teeth, going to stand until Shane followed you, grasping your elbow with a vice grip that would no doubt leave a bruise upon your flesh. "Shame, let go. This isn't you." This was exactly him, the cold shell of a person that he had become from the horrible things that he had bore and witnessed. Your voice had been sharp, a warning if he knew what was best for him. He'd always been smart with his sneaky actions, but the bitter scent of whisky that blew in your face told you that he wasn't in his usual solitary mind.

"Why should I? So you can go back to a man that you're too good for and cares more about a child and his dead brother than you?" That was the last straw, you couldn't let him wrap your mind in a bubble of lies about Daryl for a single second, so you raised your right hand and butted him in the nose with the dull end of your knife, causing the man to stumble back. But he still refused to retract his hand, he pulled you closer, snarling in your face.

"Shane, stop!" You yelled, hoping that someone would hear you. As he dragged you back towards the fire that now felt anything but warm to you, you rammed your boot into his shin, taking his moment of weakness to raise your blade against his throat, taking advantage of his vulnerable and slightly bent form. "You really think that doing your own thing, causing conflict and rumours is the right thing. Then shame on you. You threaten me, or slander my man again, I'll feed you to the walkers in that barn myself."

With that he finally released you, feeling an inkling of regret for the first time in months, allowing you to stroll away and back to your tent. No one had heard you, Daryl was out cold, no doubt exhausted from his endless searching. Maybe he really did care about the dead and lost more than he did you, you zipped the tent up, careful as to not wake the man in your blankets, as you curled up in the corner and rested your head upon your knees, allowing the tears to fall behind the barricade of your legs.

But even if Daryl were tired, and he hadn't heard your loud words to Shane, as it had been farther out by the cars, he definitely heard your broken sobs that you attempted to mute. He shuffled in the sleeping bag, sitting up right and searching his surroundings, until his eyes finally landed on you. In a panicked haze he slipped beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulled your head up so he could see your face. "Wha' happened?" He asked, desperately wanting to find the reason behind your pain.

"Shane, he-he.." Oh god no, Daryl thought. His blue orbs ran all over you until he saw the sore spot between your upper and lower arm, anger fuelling him into an awakened state. "He grabbed me, and I was this close to slitting his throat. I was okay with doing it, I just didn't want us to get kicked out from here - we'd die out there. And I don't want to die but Shane's gonna kill all of us." Daryl held you rather than hunting down the man that had caused you so much sorrow, as much as he wanted to, you were more important.

"Look a' me. You didn't do anything wrong, you defended yourself," he tucked your hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "we should tell Rick in the morning. He's a loose cannon and if he's coming after our own, it's not just that barn we have to be wary of." That damn barn was the last of your worries now, you were turning on each other, stupidly enough when you'd found a place safer than others to reside in. "And I'll deal with Shane. No one touches ma girl." He stated, seriousness underlaying his tone.

"I love you Daryl." You hiccuped, brushing the droplets from beneath your eyes, desperately looking up at him. Everything Shane said was a lie, it was just another one of his many ploys to have everyone under his thumb, just like how he persuaded Andrea to stand beside him in some of his brash decisions. He fed off her pain from losing Amy, and he was a wolf in sheep's clothing, prowling around and hunting for his next prey. Tonight it so happened to be you.

"Love you more." He leant down, smouldering your lips with his own, gently cupping your face. "We'll get Herschel to check your arm when he's awake, right now you need to rest. And if you want to sit outside and look at the stars, you wake me, ya got it?" You nodded, laying your head on his chest and the rest of your body weight atop of him, until you finally drifted off. And for once you didn't have a nightmare, instead you saw nothing, which was a blessing in disguise, the real blessing however were that you and Daryl were still alive, and you had each other for as long as you both breathed.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl imagines #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n

[its-your-mind]

*deep breath in*

the fears 👏 have always 👏 been (in one way or another) 👏 parallel 👏 to 👏 desire 👏

let me explain.

so many of the statements given by actual avatars center around some sort of need that was met by their entity. Lots of them even had a positive relationship with the fear that drove them.

Jane Prentiss is an excellent example - the Corruption has always been about a form of toxic and possessive love, but she personally has a deep desire to be “fully consumed by what loves her,” and finds a perverse joy and relief at allowing herself to be a home

Jude Perry is another - she fucking loved watching people’s lives be utterly destroyed. The Desolation only offered her a power of destruction on a grander scale, and then gave her a more intense rush of joy as she did its work. When she tells Jon that he needs to feed the Eye before it feeds on him, it’s almost as an afterthought; she was happily feeding the Desolation long before it burned her into a new existence.

Simon Fairchild. Every time that old loose bag of bones wanders into the picture, he is having a fucking EXCELLENT time playing with the Vast. He loves showing people their own insignificance, and he loves luring them into situations where he can throw them into the void as he smiles and waves.

Peter Lukas (hell, the whole Lukas family (except Evan. RIP Evan.)) hated. people. all he wanted was for them all to go away, to leave him alone. The Lonely only fulfilled that desire.

Daisy, Trevor, and Julia, all devoted to hunting those things they deemed monstrous.

Melanie, holding tight to that bullet in her leg because on some level, she wanted it. It felt good, it felt right, it felt like it fit right alongside the anger and spite that drove her to success.

Annabelle Cane first encountered the Web when she was a child, running away from home in order to tug on her parents’ heartstrings in just the right way to have them wrapped around her little finger. Later on she volunteered to be the subject of an ESP study. Hell, she’s the one who dangled the “Is it really You that wants this?” question over Jon’s head in S4.

And that brings us to Jon, beloved Jarchivist, the Voice that Opened the Door. Ever since he was a child targeted by the Web, he was looking for answers. He joined the Magnus Institute’s Research Department looking for them, he stalked his coworkers in search for them, he broke into Gertrude’s flat and laptop out of desperation for them. And when he realized that all he had to do was Ask to get truthful answers to his questions? It was only natural for him to jump at that opportunity.

Elias told S3 Jon that he did want this, that he chose it, that at every crossroads he kept pushing onwards, and the inner turmoil that caused was one of the focal points for Jon’s character through the rest of the podcast.

There’s a certain line of thinking in many circles about the power of the Devil: he’s not able to create anything new. All he’s able to do is twist and warp that which was already present, making it something ugly and profane while still maintaining the facade of something desirable.

Jon didn’t choose the Eye. But he did wander into its realm of power, exhibiting exactly the qualities it was most capable of hijacking and warping to its own ends. Jon didn’t choose the Apocalypse. But Jonah picked at him little by little, pointing him towards each Fear individually. Jon didn’t want to release the Fears. But the Web tugged on his strings just so and laid a pretty trail for him to follow until he reached its desired conclusion.

Jon didn’t choose ultimate power, or omniscience, or even his own role as Head Archivist. But he said “yes” to the right (wrong?) orders and kept on pushing for the right (wrong?) answers. He wanted to succeed at the work he had been assigned. He wanted to protect his friends. He wanted to rescue them when they were lost. He wanted to prevent the apocalypse, to save the world. He wanted to know why he was still alive, when so many had died right in front of him.

The Great Wheel of Evil Color that is the Entities might not fit as neatly into categories in this universe - maybe there was no Robert Smirke trying to impose strict categories on emotional experiences, or maybe the ways they manifest in the world has turned on its head (goodness knows many of them have been showcased and blended in some very fun and new and horrifying ways so far) - but their fundamental foundations seem to be the same. Hell, in episode one we learned that there had been enough individual incidents to create a distinction between “dolls, watching” and “dolls, human skin.”

Smirke’s Fourteen isn’t going to be relevant as common parlance, RQ said that already, but I don’t think that means the Fears themselves (and their Dream Logic-based rules) are different - I think it means that the levels of understanding, language used, and personal connections among people “in the know” are going to be entirely unfamiliar

#tma #tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp meta #tmagp analysis #the entities #robert smirke #smirke's fourteen #mind write a meta post that doesn’t turn into a fucking essay challenge #I literally thought about citing my episode sources here but decided that would get too FUCKING long. #anyway I’m pulling mostly from Gerry’s statement (111) and #and the Big Elias Group Confrontation (92) #and Annabelle’s statement (147) #and then finale - 196 / 197 / 200 #there are other little lines that I grabbed - tbh feel free to ask about anything I’ve said bc I feel like I’m ready to defend a thesis #I’ve been thinking about this on and off for a few weeks since the desire thing started going around #I have an obsession with Themes as they relate to Worldbuilding and now I have subjected you all to it as well #I am serious tho if anyone wants me to pull the specific parts I’m talking about (whether cuz you have Questions or you wanna ref them too) #lmk #my hyperfocus on silly media brain might as well come in useful somehow #aight peace ✌️