#and i was making progress and Realising things and giving them a place and THEN i got a new therapist bc my old one left

[indigodawns]

.

[inuyashaluver]

Leah williamson:

reader plays for chelsea and they have a match chelsea vs arsenal

north london is ? - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your girlfriend are enemies on the pitch but absolutely smitten for each other

warnings: suggestive? little swearing - whole lot of fluff, not proofread oopsies

a/n: happy september my loves!!! i eat this shit up, your honour! thank you for the request, enjoyyyyyyyy

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if there was something that leah felt immense pride over, it would be her lifelong club. arsenal was her home, her place of comfort, and who would’ve expected the girl that bleeds red to be in love with someone that bleeds blue?

leah williamson of arsenal was in love with you, from chelsea.

—

you and leah, the two peas in a pod were incredibly infatuated with each other. it all started in national camps, you and leah collectively making it up in the ranks together. originally, the two of you were best friends, exactly two months apart in age, 5 minutes away from each other's houses.

the progression was natural, and so unbelievably unexpected. you and leah literally began dating out of nowhere.

it was after both of you had training for your respective teams, you went to leah’s, did your usual routine of making dinner together, watching at least three movies before you would head home.

though this one time, when leah walked you to the door, things took a turn.

“alright, babe, drive safe please” leah breathes out, her hand cupping your cheek, smiling at you sweetly before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

you both didn’t even process what just happened. you nod diligently, “i will lee, see you tomorrow!” you grin, closing the door behind you, walking all the way to your car before you freeze.

leah just kissed you. you rush back up to her door, about to knock before leah quickly swung it open before you could even say her name.

“i just kissed you” leah exclaimed, you nod, your hand coming up to touch your lips, “you just kissed me” you confirm, both of you stared at each other for a moment, seconds going by, though feeling like hours.

you and leah both giggle, her hand coming to yours and intertwining them, the other angling your face upwards before she placed her lips on yours once more, slowly backing you into her house. and that’s when you realised, you were in love.

—

you and leah moved in together quickly, a new house the two of you have called home for 5 years. the funniest thing about your relationship, the two of you being in rival clubs. though, you and leah loved it.

you and leah were incredibly flirty in your relationship, teasing being one of yours and leah’s main attributes. you were competitive in the best way, keeping your relationship off the pitch saving the both of you completely.

“oh don’t you look gorgeous!” you tease, coming up behind leah and hugging her from the back. the girl was literally just wearing blue. she laughs, leaning back into you with a cheeky smile as she raked her hair back into a ponytail. 

“well look at you, missy” she gawks jokingly, referring to her red shorts you were wearing, you hop up on the bathroom counter next to her, the girl not hesitating to stand between your open legs while she continued to get ready for bed.

“this means nothing, cappy” you smile at her, booping her nose with your finger before leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

she smiles the moment your lips touched her skin, still feeling giddy after all these years when you showed even the tiniest bit of affection. “mhm, and this colour means nothing, baby” she says cheekily, scrunching her nose up cutely before kissing you.

her hand rests on your thigh, giving it a loving squeeze. when she pulls back from the kiss, she grins at you wolfishly, “but i love you in red” her eyes taking in your appearance.

“sorry but not happening, beautiful” you smile, kissing her again before pulling her into a hug, literally clinging onto her. you always missed her, even when she was right in front of you.

“alright then, maybe we should take the red off” she teases in your ear, her finger making its way to the waistband of the shorts, pulling them back to snap back against your skin.

you chuckle, pulling back to look at her. she smirks when you look her up at down, your hands going under her shirt, “only if i can take the blue off you, i know you don't like it and i can't have you dying on me” you mockingly pout, smiling right after seeing the way leah was looking at you.

“my sweet baby, it's a deal” she laughs, pulling you into a languid kiss before dragging you out of the bathroom.

—

when it came to derby days, oh did you two have fun. you would get ready together dressed in two different club training outfits, being incredibly flirty until the moment you got to your cars and went into game mode. it was hilarious.

“listen, you can score a goal but not past me, got it, darlin’?” leah says sternly, though eyes forming complete hearts as her hand squeezed your cheeks together. “nah, i’m gonna get it past you on purpose” you grin, pulling her hand down to hold it instead. 

she narrows her eyes at you jokingly, her free hand pinching your cheek. “cheeky” she smiles, her hand going from a pinch to a loving caress of her thumb.

“do your best and be careful please, lee baby” your other squeezing her shoulder tenderly. she nods seriously, “you too, my girl” thumb still caressing the apple of your cheek.

you smile and nod at her, letting her hug you tightly, slightly lifting you in the air before she put you down again. “go or you’ll be late” she grins, kissing you sweetly as she pushes you more towards your car.

“always captain williamson, aren't you? it’s not a lioness game” you tease, leah rolls her eyes fondly, squeezing your hips. “yeah, yeah” she cuts you off, kissing you again before opening your car door.

“i love you, my love who is on the wrong side” she teases, “i love you too, my love who is also on the wrong side” you smile cheekily. “ha ha, funny” she kisses you again before pushing you in the car. 

“come on, i don’t want you to be late” she ushers, “if i’m late, i could miss the game and you could win, silly girl,” you tease. leah thinks for a moment, “you’re right actually” she tries to pry you out of the car.

you laugh closing the door, waving at her with the cheesiest smile ever. she waves back in a way that matches your energy before watching you drive away, smiling when you turned off the street before getting in her car and making her own way to the bus.

—

as both teams warm up on the pitch, you and leah began the teasing again. leah walked up to you, hand on your hip as you talked to niamh about something random.

“this doesn’t look like warming up girls” she teases, you shake your head, recognising the touch and voice quicker than the speed of light.

“and what are you doing, lee lee?” you smile up at her, booping her nose with yours, something niamh grimaced at fondly before walking up to aggie to leave the lovebirds alone.

“i can’t come say hello?” she smiles, spinning you around to face her. you can’t help but smile back at her, feeling the love bubble up in your chest.

“are you sure you’re not spying?’ you tease, leah gasps, “never!” you laugh, your hand squeezing her bicep. she gives you a quick, tame kiss before separating from you. "you're forgetting i know you better than myself" she flirts, "you too" you tease.

“do your best, babe” you pull her in for another quick kiss, “you do your best, lee” she smiles, “alright, now go away, you’re distracting me” she jokes.

you laugh in surprise, giving her a playful shove, “you came here! you’re on my side!” you shake your head, leah runs backwards, shrugging her shoulders, “nah, babe, never!” she winks, blowing you a kiss before going back to training.

—

the game ended with an arsenal win, though you managed to score a goal, the score just rounding off to be 2-1. a derby was always a hard match to play, especially if it was at the emirates.

you and leah always saved each other till last at the end of a match, a tradition even from when you were both best friends. she gives you a bittersweet smile when you spot her towards the middle of the pitch, she holds her arms out to you.

you smile, walking into them and letting out a long sigh, leah always gave the best hugs, especially after a loss. “you played so well my love, that goal was class” she says comfortingly, her hands rubbing up and down your back.

there was always a little disappointment after a loss but leah made it so much better. “you played amazing, lee baby” you smile up at her proudly, your hand brushing a stray hair off her forehead from her ponytail. 

“i’m proud of you, darlin’” she kisses your forehead, swaying you gently from side to side, always knowing how to make you feel better as if it was second nature.

“i’m proud of you, baby” you grin, “i almost got that second goal past you, huh?” you tease, leah groans and rolls her eyes with mock anger, “nah, you did not” smile fighting its way to her lips. 

“i did so!” you place your chin on her chest as you look up at her, “listen here, you little shit-” she laughs, though is cut off when you rip yourself from her arms and sprint around the pitch.

the both of you laugh so hard as she chased you around, leah managing to catch you and tackle you to the ground.

you both huff and puff, running around like that after 90 minutes was rough.

you both stare at each other before breaking into another fit of giggles, letting leah help you off the ground before you both went and did a lap of photos and signatures together, just the way you both liked it.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you!! ily keiraaaa

liked by bethmead_ and 44, 232 others

leahwilliamsonn: fav time of the year with my fav person xx

view all comments

yourname: you're just saying this cause im not in my chelsea gear

↳ leahwilliamson: WHATTTT? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

↳ yourname: sure, hun

yourname: my fav time too actually

↳ leahwilliamsonn: i'm not your fav person?!

↳ yourname: OF COURSE YOU ARE

↳ yourname: just not on derby days

↳ leahwilliamsonn: touché

[csuitebitches]

On Being Well Spoken

I recently received a request about posting something regarding being well spoken.

Something you need to realise is that you’re not going to become well-spoken overnight. You need to practice on people. You need to SPEAK.

I used to stutter so badly that I could barely speak a whole sentence.

Flash forward a few years. I pitched my start up in front of a crowd, I joined Model United Nations in high school and college, I’ve been invited to speak on my entrepreneurial experience by some top universities in my country. It’s taken a lot to get here. And I’m still not where I want to be.

1. Apps to track progress and help you get better at public speaking

An app that you can use: “Speeko.”

I used to use this, it is beginner friendly and you can improve your public speaking skills as well.

2. Use topic generators

Go online and look up a topic generator. Generate a random topic, video yourself speaking on that topic. Don’t give yourself time to prepare anything - read the topic and start speaking. Set a time limit - you’ll realise that speaking for even 2 minutes can be quite difficult at times.

Not only does this make you realise that you may have limited language skills, but it will also make you realise exactly where you’re falling behind. Note down things in a journal.

- is grammar the issue?

- Lack of vocabulary?

- Too many filler sounds?

- Knowledge gap?

This is also a great idea if you’re at an intermediate level of learning a language/ polishing a language. Do this everyday and maintain a diary on your improvement.

3. Reading out loud

Select a news article or any article. Read out loud, slowly and steadily. Pronounce every syllable calmly.

A two minute read should take 5 minutes to read out loud. That’s how slow you should go. Not more than 4-5 words per breath.

Your tongue needs to get used to different syllables and sounds. Practice will help.

4. Talk in real life

Talk to anyone and everyone whenever you can.

Ask your barista how their day is going.

Ask your work or university security if they’ve had a good day and if they ate today.

Chat with your taxi driver about their life. I always start with asking them if they are from the city we’re travelling in. Even if you’re from that city, act like a tourist. Where are the best eateries? The conversation eventually goes to personal questions. How many children do they have, and what do they do? What do they like about the city?

You’ll learn the art of small talk only through practice. No book or guide can actually prepare you. You have to practice, practice and practice.

5. Diaphragm breathing

Diaphragm breathing is very important. Look up some YouTube videos for reference. You essentially breathe from your tummy (stomach goes in and out; not chest going up and down). This is a great calming exercise too.

6. Stuttering tongue/ jaw exercise videos

These are great because they really do prep your jaw and tongue well. The videos could include tongue stretches, placing your tongue on your palette correctly, etc. Search on YouTube.

7. Body posture

You really need to work on your posture too. Sit up straight. Back, STRAIGHT. Chin up, shoulders relaxed. Something as simple as posture can change your level of confidence.

8. Pranayama

A yoga exercise for breathing. You can find a guided video on YouTube for sure.

9. Vocabulary

Invest your time in expanding your vocabulary. There’s enough apps and games that can help you with that, if you aren’t fond of reading. A sign of being well spoken is having great vocabulary.

Start by looking up the synonyms of everyday words.

“I’m upset”

- how many different words can you find for upset?

“I had a crazy day today”

- one can easily use “hectic”, “chaotic” “lively” instead

10. Idioms

Idioms, phrases, sayings - look up common idioms in your language of choice. Aim to use at least 3 new idioms on 3 separate occasions in a week while you speak. You need to understand when and where you can use the idioms in your vocabulary.

11. Knowing when to switch

You can’t talk like a 50 year old heiress to a 10 year old child; you need to get down to their level.

If someone is clearly not a native speaker and is struggling to put words together, don’t use difficult words around them.

If you’re meeting with someone high profile, refrain from using slang.

The best speakers know when to switch their level of language.

You can’t use one singular type of speaking with everyone. You need to understand that there is a time and place for everything - and you’ll be able to switch like a pro only when you actually speak and start gaining experience.

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴇɪᴛʏ

✒ ᴄᴜᴘɪᴅ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴛ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ (ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀʏɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴡʟ), ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴜʜ. ʀᴀᴄɪꜱᴍ (ᴛʜɪꜱ ɢᴏᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟꜱ!), ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ɢᴏʀᴇ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ, ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, Qʜᴇᴛᴏʜʀ ᴊᴜᴍᴘꜱᴄᴀʀᴇ, [ɴᴀᴍᴇ] ɪꜱ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ꜱᴀᴄʀɪꜰɪᴄᴇ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ!

Yandere Love Deity whose temple you grew up in; Intricate paintings and marble sculptures depicting their ethereal figure surrounding you as the years pass and you go from being one of the children raised within the temple’s immaculate halls, to the most devoted priest serving Luvarin. 

You firmly believe that love goes beyond just romance, the love between two partners in union, but extends to a love that matters just as much; the love between family, between friends, or even the simple love for your neighbour. It shows in how you preach, emphasising the importance of that connection and teaching the children that just as they should pursue the kind of love depicted in the sacred partnerships of the Gods, they should search for the love between two great friends, like that of the Merciful One and his sibling Qhetohr. 

Yandere Love Deity who hears your name in only a few months after your induction into priesthood. But really, they took notice of your presence before that. It was hard not to. Not when your offerings were always of the highest quality: Intricate carvings of sparrows, wines brewed with the strawberries grown in the temple, and not to mention the hymns you sang and wrote for them which were always a delight to listen to. 

But what really drew them to your offerings was not merely the quality, no, no, they had no shortage of extravagant offerings from their wealthy followers. It was the fact that you had taken the time to create them yourself. Now, handcrafted gifts weren’t uncommon either, but really it was the dedication. To truly devote yourself to creating such impeccable displays of faith… why, it was enough to make their heart flutter. And that was no small feat. Luvarin decides that it’s high time that they reward you. 

It’s small at first. Little things that build progressively till you realise that life has been treating you suspiciously too well recently. Your recently published text debating the moral lesson one should take from the fall of the house of Arus has taken off to unforeseen heights. You’ve been promoted in the temple. You managed to avoid getting hit by a vase dropped right on top of you, unintentionally of course, because it somehow, miraculously, got blown away by the wind. 

Yandere Love Deity, who is of course, the one responsible for it all. It’s almost like you know that, because your prayers become more intimate and personal. Truly grateful for everything Luvarin is doing for you– Well you don’t exactly address it to Luvarin, you’re praying to the Gods in general, but still. They’re the reason why you’re so lucky in the first place, and hearing you passionately thanking them so genuinely, is enough to have them giggle and kick their feet with absolute delight. 

‘O Children of Kases, hear my call, I offer you my deepest gratitude, for the countless blessings you bestow upon my path, For the love that surrounds me, both seen and unseen, for the beauty of the world and the kindness of hearts.

Thank you for the lessons, both gentle and harsh, that shape me, mold me, and help me grow. For the strength to overcome challenges, And the wisdom to see the truth within. 

In the quiet whisper of the leaves, In the gentle glow of the moon, I feel your essence, ever near, Guiding me, loving me, holding me….’

Laying in the fluffy, warm, and comfortable surface of their bed, Luvarin sighs. Truly, they were amazing. They’re aware that your prayer is not just for them, but for all their siblings as well, but sheesh, who were they kidding? Of course, this prayer was meant for them! Who else has been aiding you so much? Giving you such powerful blessings and bountiful gifts, their merciful brother had competition!

Luvarin sits up, and summons their scrying bowl. It was a new one that they haven’t used yet, it was a gift from you, one of your beautiful wood carvings. 

They don’t usually like using wood in their equipment, it was for commoner mortals. But this bowl was of a perfect shape, the width was of their exact preference, it wasn’t flimsy and easily scratched or damaged, and it was designed with carved drawings of myths that centred around Luvarin themself. 

Seriously, how lucky could they be, to have a follower as devoted and as considerate with his offerings as you are. Compared to the rough and unpolished quality of the mere commoners and the superficial and needlessly gaudy level the nobles reached, yours were a breath of fresh air in how much care was placed into them. 

Thinking about it is enough for Luvarin's already present smile to widen further.

Luvarin waves their hand in a delicate flourish, and the bowl fills itself with a clear, mystical water, the surface shimmering with images of the activity below the heavens. They press one tawny finger, and it pauses. 

Their brow furrows in concentration, Luvarin purses their lip, and close their eyes as they search for your presence. 

“Aha!” There you are darling.

Luvarin's eyes open, gleaming purple, and they clap their hands with delight as the water morphs to show them the familiar sight of your room in the temple. The bed on the right, blanket strewn haphazardly on the soft mattress. Your desk is on the left covered in the drafts for your latest text. Then there's you, on your knees in front of the window, hands held in prayerful position, head bowed submissively and your eyes closed in concentration. The moonlight pouring in and shining down on you.

Despite being one of Kases’ powerful children, a literal god, Luvarin was a mere afterthought to the mortals. Unlike mighty Uren, or their fearsome twin Qhetohr, why should one concern themself with the deity of Love for anything more than matters of romance? They were a joke in the Heavens, mortals literally painted them as a cherub with a pathetically small bow and a heart tipped arrow. 

Not to mention that a lot of their priests were nothing better than scammers who tricked desperate and lonely people and naive mortals who believed that serving in Luvarin's temple could give them luck in their love life. 

But, then there was you. [Name]. Sweet, genuine [Name]. 

Luvarin traces their finger around your face, enjoying each and every detail. Sometimes, when they watch you, from the scrying bowl or in the form of a sparrow, they have the desire to just reach out and touch you. To truly feel the warmth that you radiated. To know that you're real, and not just something that their mind has come up with. 

A wisp blows in. Luvarin clicks their tongue, less than pleased about the interruption. They snatch it out of the air, it wiggles and tries to escape from their grasp, but eventually it tires. 

“Speak,” Luvarin drawls, tapping on their leg impatiently. 

Wisps, little creatures born from the mist of the Jaurdenia River and used by Luvarin and their siblings as messengers. Round, bouncy, balls of wind that glowed far too brightly for Luvarin's keen eyes. They were cute and Luvarin loved to throw them around their palace and watch them zip and crash into the walls, but right now it was [Name] time, and [Name] time was as sacred to them as the annual Luvercalia ritual. 

The wisp squirms a bit, their golden centre glowing darker in concentration, before relaxing as the honey-like smoke pours out of it. The whispers of their merciful brother carried by the fumes, “Luvarin, please do know that I will be visiting you soon to discuss some matters.” 

Luvarin groans, frustration rolling off of them in waves. They loved their merciful brother. Really who didn't? But they'd much rather get back to watching you from the scrying bowl and listening to you sing their praises. 

However deep down Luvarin knows that if they were to not show up, then he would worry and tell Qhetohr to check on them, and then Qhetohr would find about you and then– 

To the deepest pits of Demorta, why are they dreading the mere idea of Qhetohr discovering you? Their beautiful, precious, fragile mortal. Oh, it's precisely because of that. You're mortal, you're fragile, and Qhetohr would delight in absolutely tearing you to shreds if they found out you're the reason why Luvarin stood up their merciful brother. 

Luvarin gnashed their teeth, their hand squeezed the wisp so tightly in their stress, they're snapped out of their furious thoughts by a sharp pop and the cool mist that seeps through their closed fist; the remains of the unfortunate wisp. 

Fine. Fine! If that is what must be done to keep you a secret, safe from Qhetohr’s blade. Then they'll do it. 

Luvarin waves away the scrying bowl, and with a flourish of their hand, a regal purple chlamys settles over their shoulders and they rub at the cool, golden brooch holding it in place. 

Their steps echo through the lavish, empty halls of their palace. A bird flies through the nearby garden, sunlight seeping in through the gaps between the chiselled pillar, and the smell of rain-soaked leaves pervades the air. Last night they forgot to renew the barriers that prevented the rain from getting in. Usually they would just flick their wrist to get the job done, but they were watching you work away at your latest text on Uren's Rebellion. 

Luvarin halts as a realisation dawns on them. When did they start to care for you? If they paused and took a look at the situation, it was strange. It shouldn’t even be possible. 

Them, a Love God. Twin to Destruction and Insanity themself. One of Kases’ powerful children. A literal living legend, responsible for the Fall of the House of Arus. And here they are, pouring their time and attention into a simple priest, their very own servant, and practically mooning over him instead of doing literally anything else. 

Before they can ponder further on this topic, a familiar figure enters their view. He waves, and flashes them a smile that Qhetohr would kill to keep for themself. Luvarin beams, pretty portrait perfect smile reserved for greeting guests and people they would rather not deal with at the current moment. 

They’ll deal with you later. They have all the time in the world, after all. 

Yandere Love Deity who starts to fall in love with you. They would like to say that it’s a slow and gradual process. But honestly, it’s not. It’s humiliating how quickly it all happens. One day they’re watching you writing your newest text, one moment you’re pondering your next sentence, then your eyes light up with a brilliant idea and Luvarin can’t help but genuinely smile, because they’re happy for you, for your breakthrough, because it’s something that you wanted, and what you want they want you to get and when that thought pops into their head that’s when they realise what the burning flame in their heart actually is. 

Yandere Love Deity who has had mortal lovers. They were all the same; Bold, filthy little creatures full of hubris that thought they could surpass the children of Kases. Luvarin’s infatuation with them never lasted long, they weren't meant to. They were all only mortal after all. And they completely expect the same to be true with you. Yes, they know what they’re feeling is love, but really what is the difference between loving something and desiring it?

So they descend to earth in human form, ready to charm you, have a bit of fun, and then leave like it’s nothing. It should be easy, right? 

Yandere Love Deity who disguises themself as a wandering traveller, settling into the town for a short while. After all, Luvercalia is coming soon, what traveler wouldn't want to take this opportunity to partake in the festival right in the town that Luvarin had once used as their base of operations during the rebellion? Mortals were weird, but they get it. To witness the sacred ritual dedicated to Luvarin take place on the very soil their holy blood was once spilled on, any god worshipping mortal worth their salt would not hesitate to take this opportunity. They are simply as one would say, blending in with the locals. 

Yandere Love Deity whose first meeting with you is not like what they imagined at first. They imagined that they'd charm you first, then they would sweep you off of your feet and seduce you into breaking your vow of chastity, pardon you from whatever punishment they dished out nowadays and then leave. 

Yandere Love Deity who barely even  gets to say since you're running through the town, making preparations for the upcoming Luvercalia festival and the ritual. Instead of a proper introduction where the two of you exchange pleasantries and get to know each other, all you get to say is: “Ah, hello traveler. Please, make yourself welcome here.” Before being pulled away to select a sparrow to sacrifice for the ritual.

But then they manage to catch you in your downtime, and you look at them for a moment as if you're trying to figure out where you've seen them before, and then you snap your fingers and you smile, your eyes creasing and wrinkling a bit at the edges and you apologize for not getting to introduce yourself properly earlier, but you remember them. You remember them even if they were probably nothing more than just one nameless face in your hectic day, and that… for some reason the mere fact that they were still important enough for you to remember amidst everything else that was going on, it just… 

Yandere Love Deity who isn’t prepared for how you make them feel. Holy.. the way you have their heart racing has them thinking you are the one who’s the god of love here, and they’re the one who should be worshipping you and singing your praises. Just seeing your smile has them weak in the knees. It shouldn’t be possible, you’re just some mortal destined to die out and fade away while they are a literal God, who has seen kingdoms and empires fall and rise in what to you is centuries, but to them is merely a small drop of water in the vast ocean of their existence. 

Yandere Love Deity, who still thinks that they can get out of this. Just like their destructive twin, they’re as stubborn as a mule. An immovable object that refuses to budge no matter how hard you push them. 

Yandere Love Deity who changes their mind so quickly it’s embarrassing. They try to distance themselves from you and pull themself out of whatever hold you have on them, but each and every attempt is foiled, not even on purpose, by you. You and your natural charms that has them caught, hook line and sinker. How can they not fall deeper in their love for you when you make it so easy to just descend deeper? 

Yandere Love Deity who continues to interact with you in mortal form. Slowly they become as much of a daily fixture in your life as you are in theirs, and they can't be more pleased about it. However their joy is short-lived when their greatest fear comes true; Qhetohr finds out. 

Cruel, wicked Qhetohr. Obsidian eyes curling with a malicious delight as they remind Luvarin that though beings such as them, deities, will continue to exist even when they will be forgotten and turn from reality to mere myth, that you will return to the dust and dirt that Uren used to mould your kind into shape.

Yandere Love Deity who comes to the realisation that a life without you is no life at all. And so they waste no time in ordering the clouds to part, for the sun to shine down right in front of you, and then descend down to you in their godly form, their entrance announced by pale rose petals gently floating down from the heavens.

Yandere Love Deity who does everything properly. They had a ring forged by Ularus, encrusted with small, absolutely dazzling rubies. They've wrapped it in a pure white cloth, with sparrows and roses embroidered into it. 

They get down on one knee and unveil the ring, and say those four famous words. 

“Will you marry me?”

Your eyes are wide and your mouth is gaping. Clearly you're shocked. They understand. You've just learned that sly, mischievous Erasmus is the very God you worship, serve, and mention in each prayer— and now they're proposing to you! It would be mind blowing for any mortal. 

But they let you calm down and process everything, they're patient like that, and they wait with bated breath and an eager grin for your response and the words that leave your lips are–

“I– Forgive me, Lord,” You take a shaky step back, your eyes dart around– People are staring– you purse your lips, “But I cannot accept your proposal. You're a god and I'm a mortal and it just– It won't work!”

“[Name], darling, please,” Luvarin laughs, clearly you're not thinking straight, still in shock they suppose, “In all the years that I have walked this earth, I have had many, and I am not joking when I say many, lovers. And many were just like you my love: Mortal. With crimson blood running through their veins and fragile bodies doomed to age.” 

They stand up and reach for your hand. You flinch and try to pull away, and even if their heart twinges, they soften their smile– Remember Luvarin, mortals are sensitive creatures. Be patient– and grip it tighter. 

You wince and they swear they can feel a phantom around their own hand in response.

Luvarin slips the ring on your finger. They wrap an arm around your waist, they ignore how you whimper and the fear in your eyes, and they bring you closer. 

“But you… darling, you are special. Compared to all those shallow creatures, your soul is vast, as wide as the earth, and the only one able to captivate me in the way that only you are uniquely capable of.”

“None of them can compare to you. Nobody can,” Luvarin can feel you shaking as they press a kiss to your temple, “And that is why I want– no need to marry you. I need you in my life [Name], and it's because you're mortal that we need to get married as soon as possible.”

You push them away, and this time they let you just so they can see the look on your face. 

Your brows are knit, and your lip is stiff. They've never seen this expression on you before. But they've seen it on Uren. On their merciful brother. On countless other gods and mortals through the ages. 

It was an expression that told Luvarin that they were about to hear something they didn't want to hear. 

Yandere Love Deity who thinks that you made an attempt to be gentle in your rejection, at least at first. But then it was their persistence that got to you. 

They saw glimpses of it in their time masquerading as a mortal. Your anger. It simmered underneath your skin and has been burning since you were young and pure. 

Their merciful brother told them, he knew you before when you barely reached their mortal form's waist, that you came from a pagan land. A land that was ransacked and pillaged and absorbed into Uren’s ruling. You came in, resentful and bitter with no desire to listen and obey to the people who killed your family. 

They know that you don't like the gods. Even now that you're a priest. But they thought that they were an exception, you got to know them as not a god after all, as Erasmus and not as Luvarin. 

Yandere Love Deity who is met with your frigid glare and… Gods, they can't bring themselves to remember the words you wielded like sharp blades. All they remember you telling them before they allow themselves to be swept away by the wind is that they should find another god to marry instead

Yandere Love Deity who weeps with such force that the skies turn grey, the oceans crash and churn, and the wind blows so violently it's nearly enough to have you whisked away from the earth's surface. It's enough to draw the attention of Qhetohr who cackles at the sight of Luvarin’s tear-stricken face. 

“I told you so!” Qhetohr’s obsidian eyes flash menacingly, “Mortals are fools. Arrogant, bumbling, fools. You could promise him the world and he would still turn up his nose at the thought of spending an eternity with you.” 

Luvarin clicks their tongue and avoids Qhetohr’s gaze, they wipe away their tears before facing their twin with a burning glare, its force lessened with the redness of their eyes, “Are you done?” 

Qhetohr snickers, they plop down on the kline beside Luvarin and hook an arm around their shoulders, ignoring their protests as they bring them closer, “Don’t be like that. After all,” Qhetohr smirks, “I’m here to help you.” 

Yandere Love Deity whose love for you turns bitter, it’s still there but it’s tinged with resentment, and Qhetohr only fans the flames higher till Luvarin doesn't think twice before saying yes to whatever Qhetohr has cooked up for you.

Yandere Love Deity who continues to watch you, watching as you experience misfortune. It starts with you injuring yourself more frequently. You struggle to think of what else to write in your latest text. The roses you've been growing in the temples wilt. If your public rejection of them wasn't enough already, this was enough to convince the town you're bad news. The temple's head priestess who once told you she understood why you refused Luvarin now glares at you coldly as she hands you your things and tells you you are no longer welcome within their walls.

Then it intensifies, your bad luck bleeding out into your surroundings. The food in the stores turn foul and rot. The animals start dying, flies surrounding their corpses and crows picking away at the meat. The village falls to unidentifiable sickness that the physicians and priests are not able to cure. It all comes to a head when the waters become infected and run black. 

Who else could be responsible other than the ex-priest who rejected his own god? 

They scream at you, they curse you out as your ‘brothers and sisters’ hold you down with flinty stares on top of the stone table. Your bare skin pressing on the cold surface. They stripped you down to your loincloth and doused you in the freezing waters of the Yulerine River all in preparation for this moment.  

One acolytes light the candles at the feet of the altar, and another one pours wine into a bowl and sets it in front of the statue of Luvarin behind you. A priestess lights the incense sticks and the air is filled with the scent of smoke tinged with roses.

The head priestess holds a hand up and closes it, the crowd goes quiet. You can see them, their purple eyes framed by their golden locks, royal and cold, narrowing with what you can only describe as a sadistic glee.

“We stand here today,” The head priestess bellows, “To witness the execution of a traitor to the temple, to our patron and god: Lord Luvarin.”

“Sister, please–”

“He has offended our Lord!” Her voice drowns out your pitiful voice, “And by his death, we shall rectify his foolish mistake. We shall offer his life as an offering to our Lord and beg for their forgiveness by giving them the man who has refused their love that which he does not deserve to have!”

You search the masses for somebody, anybody who can see past this farce and save you. But amidst the mass of people who you have grown up with, who you have helped, who you have supported through the hardest of times only to find aggression and rage that should not be directed at you. 

The head priestess starts to chant the prayers for ritual. The damn Luvercalia ritual. You want to laugh. You spent weeks planning everything meticulously down to the tiniest detail, and you don't even get to see the fruit of your labour because now instead of the sparrow you picked out from the town's aviary, the adorable little bird you've spent so much time grooming and preparing for this exact moment, you are now lying here, being rushed through the sacrifice preparations that should've been done over the course of two weeks. 

You want to laugh, and so you do because now that you're going to die you don't have to care about maintaining appearances. 

One of the acolytes holding you down, a teen boy with freckles and mousy hair named Kreo, glares at you, “Shut your mouth, swine.” 

You only laugh harder, because this little boy is trying to act tough when you've already seen him bawl his eyes out when he broke an ankle trying to save a cat from a tree. 

A balled up piece of cloth is shoved into your mouth and you choke on your own spit and gag as it touches the entrance of your throat.

Usually you love it when it rains, but when it starts to fall in slow drops, building up till eventually you're shivering from the rain, you want to cry because when you died, you at least wished for golden haired Ebris to grant you the mercy of letting the sun shine down on you in your final moments.

As the head priestess starts reciting the prayers, and the men and women who you grew up with in the temple anoint with you oils and salts for the sacrifice, you search for them in the sea of faces and you find them easily. Their lips spread into a devious grin, teeth shining from beneath their hood, and they mouth to you: This is your fault.

“This is your fault!” A grieving father screamed at you as he held his dying daughter. 

“This is your fault,” Your friend hissed at you from between her teeth when the cows on her family's farm began to drop like flies. 

“This is your fault,” The head priestess spoke with a measured tone when you were removed from the temple and your position as priest, “And that is why you are no longer welcome here.” 

The head priestess lifts her head from her prayer, and she spreads her arms wide, “Let the ritual begin!”

The people cheer as your eyes widen and you struggle against the hands holding you down. You try to find somebody with even a hint of pity in their face, but all you see is disgust and resentment.

Despite your struggle and the clear panic and fear in your eyes, an acolyte holds out a wooden box decorated with intricate carvings of flora and sparrows, too pretty to be holding the deadly sharp blade forged from Ofriedian metal that you had personally shined and sharpened to perfection. 

The head priestess plucks it out daintily, holding it with reverence. She weighs it in her hand, before gripping the hilt and pressing it against your bare skin. 

She leans down into your ear, you can barely hear her voice amidst the raucous noise of the eagerly awaiting villagers, “You have cursed us all with your actions,” Her breath that smells like citrus and ice fans against your sweaty face, “But today… today you can repent [Name]. What we are doing may seem wicked and cruel, but I assure you. This is for the greater good. By your death the village will be saved and our Lord Luvarin will forgive you.”

“You will thank me for this. You will thank us all.” 

The head priestess rises from where she bent down, and then she lifts the blade and presses it back down on the area of your upper abdomen, the cold blade digs into your skin, and the blood starts to seep out. 

At first as the knife pierces your skin, the pain is equivalent to an ant bite, if the ant's mandibles were aflame. Then she drags it across his skin like she's making one long stroke with a paintbrush, and a guttural scream is wrenched from your throat but is muffled by the gag and drowned out by the people's cheers.

–

Luvarin felt suffocated within the large mass of people, mortals. Sweaty, ailment stricken mortals burning with rage and righteous fury. Despite how sickening this was, they had to be here. 

They meet your gaze that is resentful and full of fear at the same time, and despite the tension between you two their heart flutters and their face breaks into a lovesick smile. Though it quickly morphs into a frown when you turn away. 

People keep jostling them and the mortal woman with grey streaks in her blonde hair is speaking, but the only thing that Luvarin cares about right now is you. 

You who have the kindest eyes they've ever seen. You who held them in your arms when on the nights they'd visit and pretend to be cold. You who despite your past continued to respect the gods and adhere to the strict rules that came with being a priest. 

Then they remember Qhetohr's words. And Luvarin remembers your other side.

Your other side. The you who looked at the ring, their genuine feelings, and listened to their heartfelt confession, who they allowed to see their vulnerabilities. The you who chose to turn your back to them just like he did all those years ago. 

Luvarin's hands clenched into fists, and their immaculate nails dug into their divine skin. They can hear you laughing from the altar, and that is enough to fan the flames of anger higher. Their skin breaks and golden ichor drips to the earth. 

Eventually your laughter is cut short when you are gagged, and somehow that only infuriates them even further. Emotions they can't understand are brewing inside of them, and it reflects in how the earth responds to them; the sky darkens, and the sound of distant thunder approaches. 

Rain starts to pour from the sky, and they can hear some of the mortals around them start murmuring about how Luvarin must be watching them. Yes, they're watching alright.

Luvarin flinches when you look at them again, they hope you don't notice. Looking at your eyes again, the fear seems to have only increased, and the anger is slowly being replaced by… regret. They smirk, and slowly it turns into a grin. 

Their lips move quicker than their brain, “Yes. This is your fault. Regret it. Regret it and wish that you had just come to me instead.”

They can see that as the rain runs down your face, so do tears. Tears that despite whatever they may want right now, they feel the need to wipe away with gentle kisses.

No! They curse in their head, You can't be thinking this again. Remember what Qhetohr told you. 

You could give him the world and he still wouldn't choose you. 

Before Luvarin knows it, the woman with greying hair lifts her arms to the sky and exclaims, “Let the ritual begin!”

Despite Luvarin's superior senses already being overrun by the harsh sound of ecstatic cheers, they can still hear your pitiful whimpering, like you're a wounded animal. 

The woman is handed an Ofriedian dagger and then–

Thunder strikes the same time you scream. 

Luvarin can't look away. It's like cold hands are digging into the sides of their head and are forcing them to witness consequences of their action.

The Luvercalia ritual traditionally has them cutting open the stomach of a fattened sparrow, removing the organs, and then cleaning it with purified water and then filling it with herbs before wrapping it with a rope soaked in purified oil and tied to a stick before it is lit on fire. 

You kick and fight, tears streaming down your face, indistinguishable from the rain. The woman cuts your stomach open, stopping when the blade reaches the beginning of your loincloth. Blood starts to seep from the wound, the flow intensifying when two acolytes dig their hands in your wound, ignoring your thrashing, and pull the wound open wider. Luvarin feels as if their own stomach is being ripped open as they continue to watch this.

The woman's face is calm and serene, but her eyes have a satisfied gleam as she rolls up the sleeves of her pristine white robes. She reaches a hand in and starts to pull out your organs. The way she goes about can only be described as methodical. First she cuts out the liver, then the gallbladder. She's unbothered by the crimson that begins to stain her skin and bleed into her soul that no amount of prayers or bathing would remove. Hair falls in front of her face as she is pulling out the stomach and a priestess immediately steps in to tuck it behind her ears. 

Luvarin has seen no small amount of blood in their lifetime, before they were an adorable cherub, they were a war hero who walked a road soaked in gore and ichor but this… They… They can't bear the sight of your violent but ultimately futile attempts to break free that only grow weaker as the light begins… Oh gods. 

Luvarin shoves a hand over their mouth and pushes their way out of the crowd, ignoring the protests of those pulled out of the trance the ritual placed on them. 

They barely step foot out before their immortal body is no longer able to hold any of it in. 

As they heave, they try to grasp your heartbeat and stabilise it. You don't deserve this. They made a mistake, but they could still fix this. But just as they're trying to anchor you in the land of the living, something else, a deity or something of equal power, is dragging you to Demorta. 

No, they weren't going to let you leave them, you were going to stay with them and they were going to fight harder than before, and this time they won't accept any rejection you may have ready for them. 

However maybe it was the vomiting, or the opposing force was simply that powerful. Whatever it was, when they whip their head around as soon as they can no longer hear your already fading heartbeat, they use their enhanced eyesight and you– You've stopped moving. The blood is slowly pouring down the altar, moving slowly, oozing even. 

They are already cleaning the now hollowed out stomach of your body and reciting the blessings to purify the herbs. Rosemary. Basil. Sage. Lavender. Thyme.

Luvarin is still as they watch the woman, hands cleaned but forever dirtied with your innocence, place the herbs inside, and then sew up your chest before closing your eyes. 

She claps her hands, and they tie you to a large wooden pillar with the rope. They recognize the wood, they– they can see the little carving you etched into its surface when the two of you visited the grove. 

You smiled as you sheathed the dagger back on the strap in your leg, satisfied with your work.

The first letter of both of your names with a + sign in between the two of them. 

“Some of my finest work yet,” You chuckled, but the look in your eyes tells them it's more than just a joke. 

They brush their hand against the letters, and they smile. It's not perfect, but it's.. it's human. 

“Do you like it?”

“I… I love it.” 

The woman recites prayers before your body as an acolyte waves a golden thurible around your body, letting the smoke curl itself around your corpse and purifying the body these so called holy servants of theirs have sullied with their cruel, filthy hands. 

A man, the village chief, steps forward with a burning torch that struggles to remain lit against the rain that has only grown stronger. He turns to the woman, “Priestess, are you sure that this will work? The rain–”

“The fact that it is still lit is a sign Xander,” She nods toward the unlit pyre, “Please, get on with  it.” 

He nods, and lights the pyre. It is weak, sputtering, and despite the muttered prayers of the temple’s servants and the mortals watching, the flames die out. Killed by the rain. 

“Priestess…” The village chief starts, but the priestess raises a hand. 

“This is… It is an issue with [Name],” She looks to the sky, “Luvarin may not want anything to do with him anymore.” 

Those words cause something to snap inside of them, and as if in response lightning strikes the pyre. The priestess gasps, the village chief falls on his ass, and the people are struck with fear. However the lightning does not set the body aflame, instead the fire lights the earth and it spreads faster than the rain can extinguish it. It bites at the feet of the acolytes trying to put it out and burns them with all the strength of Luvarin's rage.

What happens next is a blur. 

Qhetohr's told them about this before. When your body becomes nothing more than an extension of your weapon and it's like you're not in control of it. 

Everything you do in this state is controlled by instinct alone. 

When they wake up, one of Luvarin's hands is caked in blood and bits of flesh are stuck beneath the nails. They are standing over that woman's corpse and her neck has been punctured with holes that could have only been made by their hand.

Her body is floating, half submerged, and they are knee deep in water. The rain has stopped, and they're no longer wearing their robes. They see that it's wrapped around the village chief's neck like a noose. The village in the distance has been ruined by the flood, and there are more bodies floating around them. 

The only thing unaffected? Your body. The grey clouds have parted and there's a beam of sunlight shining down on you. Your eyes are closed, your head is slumped, and your wet hair sticks to your face. 

You're still beautiful, even as your skin begins to grow pale with death. 

Luvarin sees the Ofriedian knife, they pick it up and sever the ropes. They catch your body when it falls, they drop the blade, and they wrap both arms around you. 

They inhale whatever remains of your scent that hasn't been washed away by the rain and the ointments. 

Luvarin frowns when they feel the unfamiliar sensation of tears stinging the corners of their eyes. They burrow their nose in the crook of your neck and mumble into your skin, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen.” Their voice is like a sputtering torch about to succumb to the harsh rain. 

If they strain their ears and focus on the wind, they swear they can hear you. 

They can hear your voice, but they don't know what you're saying. 

“I'm sorry,” Luvarin croaks once more, “I didn't want to hurt you. I never did. I just wanted you to notice me. Not Erasmus. Not Luvarin the Deity of Love. Just me.” 

“A- And I couldn't take it when you said no. I need you in my life [Name], and I still do. But I'm not so selfish tha- that I'd do something stupid. It was Qhetohr,” They can't stop their voice from quavering, “Qhetohr made me do this, s- so if you're gonna be mad at anybody just be mad at them okay?” 

Your silence is deafening but they press on, “I'll do anything,” They look up to the sky, as if begging for any of their siblings to help them. Dignity be damned, “I'll do anything.” 

But nobody answers. Not Qhetohr. Not their merciful brother. Not Uren. The only response is the quiet, occasionally interrupted by the sound of rain dripping from nearby leaves. 

Yandere Love Deity who fixes your body. They place back your organs, mend your skin, and make everything normal again. Or as normal as it can be now that there's a gaping hole left in their existence.

Yandere Love Deity who keeps your body in a coffin they make from their own hands. You have made them countless gifts, but their favourites were always the adorable wood carvings that they can tell you poured more time and effort into than they would ever deserve. 

It is imperfect and made of mistakes, but it is sturdy, and it is genuine. Ularus volunteers to help, he insisted, but a flinty glance is enough to discourage him from continuing further. They need to do this. This is the least they can do for you after all you've done for them. 

Yandere Love Deity who is visited by their merciful brother the day that they lay your body to rest in the coffin. 

“He was always such a bold child.” 

“[Name]?”

“Oh, of course! He may not seem like it now, but well, you remember what I told you.”

“Who else would, if not us? We're the only ones who know now. We're the only ones who will ever remember him.”

“He loved you.” 

“He loved Erasmus.”

“Are you not also Erasmus?” 

“Dear brother, no. Erasmus is the mysterious charming mortal. I am Luvarin, to him I am nothing more than the master he hates– hated and would have never had to serve if he had the choice.” 

“He loved you Luvarin. He was simply confused. He can respect the gods but that does not mean he likes them, and well– to love the god he detests the most is not the easiest thing to come to terms with.” 

“What are you trying to say here?” 

“I'm saying that the two of you could have worked if there was simply time, time that you no longer have.”

“...” “My condolences to you, Luvarin. He was a good man.”

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

[slow-motionlovepotion]

𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆 | 𝒋.𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈:  Joel Miller x f!Reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.6K - this was not meant to be this long, oops.

𝒂/𝒏: I'm feral for Joel Miller and I won't apologise for that. This ended up so much softer than I planned but Joel Miller deserves to be loved, goddmit. part two is already in progress ~ no beta, we die like men

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+ - smut, post-apocalypse, pre-Ellie, age gap (mid/late 20s!reader x early 40s!Joel), first time, loss of virginity, fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it kids), Joel Miller has a big dick, risky creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, manhandling, angst, implications of rape (does not involve reader or Joel), soft!Joel, fluff, idiots in love, innocence kink, Joel Miller is down bad. - minors do not interact.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Sometimes when I look into your eyes, I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

Joel had found you cowering in the corner of a store in some godforsaken town somewhere in deep Texas, the twitching body of an infected splayed in front of you. He’d eyed you cautiously, keeping his distance, gun pointed directly at you, not afraid to pull the trigger. 

“No, please, no. I’m okay, I’m fine, not bitten. I promise. Please” you were frantic, begging for your life. 

“Just the one?” He’d asked, voice gruff and dark, he exuded danger. 

You nodded “It was out the back, I checked but I didn’t see it, then it just came out of nowhere”

He nods once “You alone?” 

“Yeah, it’s just me” you hadn’t moved from your spot on the floor, hands raised in surrender, shaking in fear.  

“Christ” the man mutters more to himself than to you, giving you the once over he lowers the gun “C’mon, I’m not leaving you here” 

Your time together was meant to be brief, Joel had planned to find you somewhere safe to stay, people you could live your life with, some sense of normality. Life would never be like it was before the outbreak but maybe he could find you a new version of living. 

It took two months to find the first group of settlers but Joel didn’t even let you near them, he’d checked them out alone, swiftly deciding it wasn’t a safe place for you, he didn’t say why. Another six months until the next group, they initially seemed better but the cries echoing outside the commune at night told Joel all he needed to know. 

It’s been exactly 2 years since he found you in that abandoned store, you’d managed to survive for six months, barely, living in a constant state of fight or flight. And then Joel came, Joel who took a chance on you, who shared his supplies and taught you to survive. Joel, who stood watch and let you sleep despite being exhausted himself, who bandaged your wounds, and made his own life harder just to make yours a little bit easier. 

Joel, who would watch the world burn just to make sure you were safe. 

You could still to this day, pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. You watched the world burn. Well not the world, just a decrepit cabin on the side of a road somewhere in Texas. He'd thought it was safe, he’d checked and double checked, the place was free of infected, or so he thought. The thick knit of your scarf was the first thing that saved your life that night, when the infected had come at you from behind, jumping out of the dark and going for your neck.  Joel hadn’t even hesitated, gun drawn and a bullet in its skull before you could even cry out for help. He’d reached for you, entwining his fingers with yours as he dragged you out of the building, kicking the cap off a gas canister as he went and throwing a lighter behind him as the door had shut. He pushed you ahead of him, protecting your body from the flames licking at the dry timber frame behind him.  

You realised you loved him, were in love with him, laying on the dusty ground, with Joel’s imposing body shielded yours. You felt safe, he was firm behind you, chest heaving with laboured breaths, arms wrapped around you, keeping you close, muttering softly into your ear, “it’s okay, it’s okay, I got ya”.

So by the time you came across the third group you’d become quite the survivor. Joel had taught you to defend yourself, how to shoot a gun, how to actually use a knife, the weak spots of a man. You’d wondered why he was teaching you this, why you needed to know how to break the grasp of hands around your throat, how to use his body weight against him. When you’d stumbled across a group of men, animals really, surrounding a woman on her knees, her sobs echoed in your ears and you’d immediately searched for Joel, hands shaking as you grasped at his arms, eyes wide and terrified, you finally understood.

“They… they. Shit Joel, they were…”  He didn’t need you to finish, he knew what they were doing. Within 20 minutes he had you both packed and on the road. 

You felt like you’d been walking for weeks, in reality it had only been three days but you were exhausted. You were heading East, Joel had heard about a group of women that had settled just across the state border. You trudged slowly behind Joel, the unseasonable heat making you sweat, boots kicking up dust with every step, lost in your own thoughts.

“What’s bugging you?” Joel’s voice pulled you from your thoughts

“We should’ve helped her,” you confessed.  It didn’t sit right, that you just left her there for those men to take what they wanted

“There’s nothing we could’ve done, no guarantee she’d be safe in the next place” he’d explained softly 

“Is that why you’ve not left me?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it.

Joel stops, his eyes meet yours but he doesn’t answer, he can’t, can’t admit that he won’t leave you, can’t admit why he won’t leave you. He can’t admit that he loves you.

Darkness has fallen by the time you reach a safe house, a favour from a friend, he’d said. The house was neat, tidy and clean, if not a bit dusty. Joel clears downstairs first, checks upstairs and calls you up to the bedroom.  A small puff of dust is released from the bed as he drops your bags. One bed. There’s two of you and more than one bedroom, but you know he won’t let you out of his sight. He won’t risk it. 

“Joel?” you croak, voice trembling as you sit on the end of the bed.

“Hmm?” He’s stood by the dresser opposite the bed, removing his jacket and boots. 

“I… there’s something- uhh, shit” you pause, taking a shaky breath “listen, please don’t make a big deal of this but I want you to fuck me” 

“Darlin’, I’m not gonna do that” he responds almost immediately, doesn’t give himself time to even think about it, doesn’t let himself indulge in the possibility. 

Not that he’s not thought about it, God knows he has. He’s wanted you, wanted to feel your lips on his, feel your nails claw at his back as he takes you. But you never gave any indication you wanted it too, so he stayed respectful, well, as respectful as he could. There’d been nights he’d fisted his cock, your name a whisper on his lips as he came into his hand, while your sleeping body lay just inches away.

“Please” you barely whisper, he goes to speak, to reject you again, but you cut him off,  “Joel, please. I don’t- I want it to be you, I don’t want it to be like that” your eyes are pleading, silently begging “please” 

“You’ve not…? There’s not been anyone?” He asks tentatively, hoping he’s misunderstood, that you’re not actually asking that of him, he crosses the room, sitting next to you on the end of the bed. 

“I’ve been kinda busy, what with the end of the world and all that” you try and make a joke but it falls flat, sobering, shining a light on all the ways your life has been taken away from you, all the experiences you’ve missed out on. 

It shouldn’t be him, he knows it shouldn’t, he’s so much older, he’s cruel and ruthless and angry. You deserve something else, soft, gentle, loving. He can’t give you that. 

But if he doesn’t, if he says no and doesn’t do this for you, there’s no guarantee the next guy is going to love you, no guarantee that he won’t hurt you. For Joel, that decides it, he can’t give you what you deserve but he can give you something better than what’s out there. 

Cautious fingers on his leg startle him out of his thoughts, “Just once, just this once” His agreement doesn’t soothe you, it ignites something, butterflies rolling in your belly; you want this. 

You’d seen other men on your travels, the way they treated women, both good and bad. You’d thought, naively, that Joel might be like that too, that Joel might take you to his bed, fuck himself into you then roll over, pretend it never happened. But he never did, always respectful, barely ever touching you unless he had to, you’d shared beds, and bandaged each other up, but he’d never touched, never taken it further. “All right?” He nudges when you don’t respond

You nod tightly and whisper a “thank you”, sitting quietly in awkward silence, you don’t know what to do next, you’ve read books, you knew how to do this before but you didn’t know how to deal with an arrangement like this. 

Joel breaks the silence first “Do you want to… tonight or would you rather w-?”

“Tonight,” your response is a bit quick and Joel huffs an almost laugh “tonight is good”  

You don’t know how to phrase ‘lets just get it over and done with’ when you’re about to fuck someone for the first time. He stands then, grabbing something from his bag then dropping it to the floor. Liquid sloshes as Joel brings the flask to his lips, drawing in three times, brow furrowed. He hands the  flask to you “Drink” and the look in his eyes tells you not to question him. 

You take a sip and nearly retch, the taste burning your throat and nose, eyes watering. You hadn’t liked whiskey much before and while it’s rare to find anything else these days, you still hadn’t got used to the taste. You take another sip, stomaching this one better. You hold the flask back out to Joel and he takes another drag before placing it on the dresser with slightly more force than he meant.

In two steps he’s back across the room, his hands finding your face, calloused fingers dragging along the skin of your jaw, bringing you to meet his lips. The kiss is bruising and feverish, hot lips pressing to yours, he licks into your mouth and you moan, it’s sinful and sweet and Joel wants more. He wants to pull more pretty noises from you, wants to hear you scream his name. His cock responds eagerly, hardening in his jeans, he’s not felt desire like this in years, it’s burning through his blood, overwhelming his senses. 

Joel stands between your legs, tilting your chin up, bringing a knee to rest on the mattress between your thighs. One of his large hands moves to support your neck, the other tracing the line of your throat, gripping gently. The kiss has grown sloppy, Joel is breathing hard, nipping at your lips. His knee between your legs moves to press into your clothed core and despite the layers of fabric you can feel the heat of his thick thigh, your hips roll, chasing more pleasure and a groan escapes your throat unexpectedly. 

Joel’s hand drops from your throat, following the neckline of your shirt, down between your breasts, flicking the buttons open, exposing you to the humid air. He pushes the flannel off your shoulders, taking the straps of your bra with it, reaching behind you to unclasp it, inwardly pleased he managed the first try.   

You slide your hands to his waist, dragging his shirt with you, brushing your fingers across bare skin. Your fingers trace the waistband of his jeans but he reaches for your hands, wrapping a large hand around your wrists he pushes you flat, pinning your arms above your head. The other hand joins his knee between your legs, fingers teasing the seam of your jeans. 

“You asked me to fuck you,” he pulls a nipple into his mouth, teeth nibbling at the sensitive bud “n’ I will” It may have been a while but it’s really just second nature to him and he feels you shiver beneath him “gonna make you feel good darlin’”

“Joel” Your throat is dry and your voice cracks but it’s enough, his hands reach for the button of your jeans, working them down your legs while his mouth assaults your breasts. You can’t focus, it’s too much, his mouth, hands, the feel of his body, large and imposing over yours. He finally gets your jeans off, discarding them to the floor.

You reach for him, finding the buttons of his shirt, tugging gently but making your intentions clear, he allows your trembling fingers to fumble with the buttons for a minute before helping you, making quick work of the buttons, all but ripping the shirt down his arms, throwing it to the floor behind him before positioning himself between your thighs.

Joel’s hand runs up your outer thigh, fingers digging into the flesh of your bum. He trails kisses over your skin, behind your ear, down your jaw, across each of your breasts, fingers playing with the nipple neglected by his mouth. He moves his head down your exposed torso, tongue tasting the salty sweat on your skin you gasp softly as he reaches the waistband of your underwear, black lace, a little luxury that makes you feel pretty and feminine. He nudges the fabric with his nose, breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver, 

“You don’t have to” you whisper into the darkness.

A soft “yeah I do” is mumbled into your skin. He makes quick work of removing your underwear, dragging the lace down your legs and dropping them to the floor in a rather obscene gesture.

His mouth is back on your hips working his way to nuzzle at your folds, leaving open mouthed kisses and grazes of his teeth on your skin. His hands press against the back of your thighs, pushing your knees up to your chest, spreading you wide. Joel’s eyes roll back in his head at the sight of you, pussy glistening in the dim light, the low growl that sounds in his chest shakes the bed and it takes all his restraint to take it slow, make it good for you. 

“This all for me?” He rubs his thumb through your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it up to your clit, circling the little bundle. You look down at him between your spread thighs and nod. 

The sound you make when Joel flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your cunt is unholy, and when he flicks his tongue against your clit you can’t help the way a hand reaches for his hair and tugs, nor can you help the sharp cry of his name. 

Languid, is the word you’d use to describe the way Joel works at your cunt. Long, slow, lazy circles around your swollen clit, soft passes over the entrance to your cunt, not giving you more than that for what feels like hours. You catch on, quite quickly, that this is as much for Joel as it is for you, and you think he might be enjoying it the most.  

Joel hums around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, and the arch of your back is violent, a stark contrast to Joel’s gentle movements, biting down on the fleshy part of your thumb to muffle your scream. 

“Don’t do that” a hand reaches up in the dark to pull your fist from your mouth, “wanna hear you” his breath is hot against your core, tongue lapping at you like a man starved. 

You’re hot, skin prickly with a layer of sweat, hips rolling, pushing your soaked pussy into Joel’s face, your clit catching on his nose as he teases your entrance with his tongue. 

“Jo-el” your voice is whiny to your own ears and your face heats at the sound “more, please more” 

Joel lets out a hum at your request, bringing two thick fingers to slide into you and already you feel the intoxicating spark of your orgasm approaching. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and the feeling shoots straight to his cock. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, your grip in his hair painful even to you.  “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, Joel”

You’re so close that when Joel crooks his fingers and continues his assault on your clit, your orgasm tears through you. You stiffen, hissing a “Yesss”through gritted teeth, hands clawing at the sheets and Joel’s hair.

“‘Atta girl” he coos around your clit “tha’s it baby” The sound of Joel’s voice is muffled by the ringing in your ears and when you open your eyes all you can see is stars, flashes of white clouding your vision. 

Sensing his movement, you open your eyes and when they’ve adjusted to the darkness again, you can see the burly outline of Joel kneeling between your legs, his eyes drag down your body, fingers of his left hand gently caressing the bend of your knee. You sit up, reaching for his belt, tugging at the buckle. Joel watches as you pull his belt free, fingers ghosting over his length confined in the denim as you pull down the zip. 

When your fingers dip inside to grasp him he can’t stop the choked “fuck” that escapes his throat. Pulling him free of his boxers, your jaw drops at the size, fuck he’s thick, so thick, and swaying heavily between his legs, dripping with precum. With hesitant fingers you run the pad of your thumb down his slit, smearing the fluid, stopping to rub your thumb on the underside of his head. Joel can’t help the jerky twitch of his hips at the stimulation. You take that as a positive, repeating the action once, twice more, before calloused hands still your movements. You look up to Joel, confusion clear on your face. 

“Won’t last if you keep that up” Joel explains, his voice a whisper, vulnerability evident even in his low tone. 

You release his length from your grasp, bringing your thumb coated in his arousal to your mouth, sucking tentatively. You don’t notice Joel watching you through hooded eyes, but he makes quick work of his jeans and boxers, kicking the offending fabric off as quick as his aching bones will let him.  

Experienced hands lift your legs to hook over his hips as he settles himself between your thighs again. You can feel the thick length of Joel’s cock pressed firmly against you, sliding through the wetness left by his mouth and your orgasm as he ruts against you. It takes the entirety of Joel’s willpower to not fuck into you, coming back to himself, he remembers why he’s doing this. 

“Gotta tell me if y’need to stop” he slurs against your temple and he feels you nod as he presses a soft kiss to your clammy skin. Joel rests the heavy weight of his cock against your entrance, running the head between your folds, bumping your clit and soaking himself with your wetness. He presses himself in to your tight heat and you feel like you’re being split open, wincing at the burn “I know, ‘m sorry darlin’, it won’t hurt for long promise”   

Joel pushes your sweat-damp hair out of your face, big hands cupping your face, open mouth dragging against yours. He tries to distract you with wet kisses to your jaw but when he pushes himself deeper you cry out, hands flying to claw at his hips, stopping him from moving any further. 

“We can stop” Joel mutters into your open mouth but you give a quick shake of your head 

“No. I’m okay, I’ll be okay” The feeling is foreign, neither his fingers or tongue could’ve prepared you for the stretch of his cock, nor the desperate ache that settled deep inside you, the one you know only Joel can satisfy. 

You can feel him throbbing inside you, and it’s taking everything in him to hold still

“Eyes on me darlin’” Joel orders as he pries your hand off his hip, entwines his fingers with yours, and pins your hand to the mattress. Your eyes meet through the darkness and there’s a softness in Joel’s eyes you wish you could bottle and keep.

You tense up in anticipation of Joel’s next movement, squeezing your cunt around Joel’s cock

“Fuckin’ Christ  darlin’, y’gotta relax, just relax” you will your body to relax, to release the squeezing of your core, “that’s it, doin’ so good, you’re doin’ so good. Takin me so well” and yes, you keen at his praise, the throb of arousal in your stretched cunt is heavenly and Joel takes your moment of distraction to sink the rest of his length into you. 

“Fuck” you whimper, the sharp stretch shocks you, eyes widening.

He shudders a breath above you, “‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry”

“So big Joel. ‘T  hurts” you practically sob and the sound breaks his heart in ways he didn’t expect. Joel breaks eye contact first, fixing his eyes on where you’re currently impaled on his cock. He moves to pull out but you tighten your thighs, keeping him still “No, don’t. Don’t wanna stop. Just give me a minute” you close your eyes and breath in deep through your nose, letting a shaky breath out. 

“Touch yourself,” Joel orders, bringing your hand still clutching his to his mouth, wetting your fingers with his tongue before pressing your fingers against your clit “‘t’ll make you feel better” 

You obey, stroking your bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your previous orgasm “that feel good?” He asks as you tighten involuntarily around him. 

“Yes,” you pause for a moment, continuing to stroke at your clit. Warmth blooms under your fingers, arousal spreading through your body, loosening your muscles, the discomfort subsides, leaving behind a different kind of ache “can you move? Please” 

The way you ask him, with your pleases and thank yous, still so polite despite the harsh world you live in, it’s innocent and sweet, and he loves it. It activates something primal in him, some deep desire to protect you, to please you. To pleasure you. 

Joel settles his knees wide on the mattress, pulling his cock from your depths before pushing back in slowly, when you don’t stop him he repeats the action. “shit darlin’, so fuckin’ tight”, and he’s not wrong, the girth of his cock is stretching you in ways you’ve never been before, you can feel every vein, every ridge, every goddamn fucking inch as he works himself in and out of you. It’s steady, controlled, almost gentle, the way he rolls his hips, leaving enough space between you for your fingers to continue working your clit, not that you need the distraction anymore. 

He could cum right there, your aching cunt absolute bliss around him. The whine that leaves your throat is of pleasure not pain and the tightness in his chest borders on uncomfortable. He’s done this before, he’s experienced, he’s had women screaming his name but nothing compares to the breathy sound of his name leaving your lips. You’re so sweet, eyes fluttering, fingers ghosting across the skin of his hips, the softness of his belly, the firm muscles of his chest and his broad shoulders. 

You could pretend, wrapped up in Joel like this, that it’s not the end of the world, that this comfy bed in this nicely decorated house is yours and Joel’s. You pretend, just for a minute, as he’s fucking himself into you, that he’s yours. Your hands reaching to wrap around his back, nails scratching at the muscles working beneath the skin, it’s intimate.

You feel his pace falter, “‘m close darlin’” he mumbles into the thick air above you, “fuck, y’gotta come for me baby, come on” it sounds like he’s begging and you find that you quite like the sound of Joel begging, especially when he’s begging you to cum for him.  

He can see you’re close, legs twitching, breathing heavy, he can feel the tell-tale flutters in your cunt and he knows “what d’ya need?” He pants, chasing your high, no care or regard for his own anymore, he just wants you to get there. 

“Joel, I need mo-” he drives himself into you deeper, tilting his hips to rub his cock against your sweet spot. With fluttering eyes and heaving chest you whine a tight “that’s it” fingers working furiously at your clit, hips rocking down as you meet his thrusts “Joel, yes” you groan, the sound reverberating in your chest. 

He feels your cunt squeeze him “tha’s it, good girl”, he needs to stop or he’ll cum but you don’t care, continuing to rock your hips, thrusting down forcefully against him, cock reaching deeper than you thought possible and you tense, muttering a “fuck” as you cum hard around him. You can’t comprehend that this is what it feels like, the violent quivering of your muscles, tight and squeezing. Fuck, you don’t want to let this feeling go, Joel’s cock buried so deep inside you it hurts, you never want to cum without this ever again. 

Joel gives a few tight thrusts, “Shit, what a sight” He has to pull out, he can’t cum inside you, can’t take the risk but the rhythmic pulsing of your walls is dragging him kicking and screaming to the edge.  You let out a breathy “inside Joel, inside,” the way you say his name sends a shiver down his spine, but the way you moan the softest “please” has him cumming, cock twitching violently, hips rocking, pushing his release deeper. 

His mouth meets yours roughly, ragged groans escaping between harsh kisses as he continues to pump inside you. He can’t remember the last time he came this hard, beyond satisfied and completely drained but he still can’t break his lips from yours. The kiss is soft now, tender and lazy, something close to loving. His sweaty weight above you is grounding, bringing you back to reality. 

Joel groans and drops his forehead to your chest, cock still buried deep you can sense his reluctance to part from you, you tangle your fingers in his hair, allowing him to rest against you. He stays for a minute or two before groaning, aging knees and shoulders protesting as he hovers over you. 

He moves slowly, dragging his softening cock out from your over sensitive heat and you moan low in the back of your throat as he disappears, returning from the en-suite with a damp towel, 

“There’s warm water” he mumbles as he wipes the towel gently between your legs. You hum contentedly, your tired body drowsy and dopamine drunk. You briefly think about the long hot shower you’re going to take in the morning when the bed dips next to you and Joel reaches for you, rolling you into his side, your head on his chest. If you had more energy you’d say something but the gentle caress of Joel’s thumb behind your ear and the slow thump of his heartbeat quickly has your eyes closing and your breath steadying. 

“Was that” Joel pauses, what, good? All right? Just okay? he thinks it’ll kill him if it was bad for you

“Good, it was good” you offer him a soft smile “thank you” 

“Christ darlin’ so fuckin’ polite” he can feel himself stirring again beneath the sheets, and fuck he’s depraved, he’s convinced you could make him cum just by saying please. 

Joel must think you’re asleep and you feel it more than you hear it, his whispered admission of “love you” spoken into your hair as he presses soft kisses to the top of your head. 

𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[walkingstackofbooks]

Consider: Julian being pregnant with Yoshi and going to Federation parenting classes with Miles and Keiko. And encountering a list of all the rights and freedoms every child is supposed to be entitled to. Some of which... don't sound like his childhood. (Cw child abuse)

I've got SO MANY more ideas for this it may turn into a series who knows??? But I want to share it now so people can maybe like it? Because I have feeeelings.

--

"So these are just, uh, suggestions, right? Parents don't have to do all of them?" Julian asked, instantly regretting it. If Miles' dirty look was anything to go by, clearly that had been the wrong thing to say.

"Julian," he gritted out, "you're my best mate and you're carrying my child so I'm going to give you a chance to explain. What the hell do you mean by that?"

Julian really wasn't sure that he could. Some of the statements on the poster had surprised him, that was all, but he didn't really want to get into the reasons why.

"Don't, uh-- Don't worry. It's not important," he tried to deflect.

"It bloody well is important, if you're just planning to ignore what you're learning here."

"Miles--" Keiko broke in, placing a hand on her husband's knee.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Julian exclaimed, cradling his stomach protectively. "I was just saying that, um... I guess that they're not all as important as each other, are they? Lack of privacy, for example -- that's not exactly abusive, is it, like some of the others?"

"That's a common misconception, but no, Doctor Bashir," answered Mx Rakoto. "Any parent showing a consistent failure to meet any one of these standards would be enough to investigate them for abuse."

"Oh."

"What do you mean, "oh"?" Miles asked, with an irritation that compelled Julian to shrug and look away.

"I guess I just didn't realise it was taken that seriously," he replied, feeling kind of silly and small as he said it. "I know we learnt about them in school, but back then it was more of a thing for teachers than parents, wasn't it?"

There was a pause, before Keiko said tentatively, "...These have always been for parents, Julian."

"Mrs O'Brien is correct," Mx Rakoto added. "Your parents would have completed a very similar course to this -- some things have changed of course, there's always more progress that can be done, but the fundamental rights and freedoms of children haven't changed, and nor has the law."

"No, but..." Julian's brain didn't seem to be working properly; was he missing something?

"You're saying these are things I should have had at home and at school?"

"Yes?"

"And my parents should have known about them?"

"I would find it hard to believe that they didn't. Parents are required to access learning about this every few years."

"Oh." Julian's voice had gone very quiet at the point. "I think I-- I need a minute..." he said shakily, eyes glued to the poster in front of him, reading and rereading the information as he tried to figure out what he'd got wrong.

Right to privacy.

Right to choose their own name.

Right to appropriate support and accommodations of a disability.

Freedom from unnecessary medical interventions.

Freedom from torture.

Right to make mistakes.

"Julian?" asked Keiko softly, startling him out of his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "I didn't know," he whispered. "I mean, it's not like I thought they were great parents, you know, but I didn't think... Well, most people complain about their parents, don't they? I didn't think mine were abnormally bad. But there are so many things--" His voice quavered, almost breaking. "And you say they could have been investigated for just breaking one?"

"What... what kind of things?" asked Miles hesitantly. "Only if you want to tell us, of course."

Julian's eyes flicked around the room, but Mx. Rakoto seemed to have left the room.

"They've gone," confirmed Keiko, seeming to catch onto what he was thinking. "I can go too, if you'd prefer..."

"No -- it's alright," said Julian. "It's just... a lot to take in."

His eyes returned to the poster. Right to encouragement. Freedom from humiliation and constant criticism. Right to self-expression. Right to relax and play. Right to mistakes.

"It must be hard, right," he started, looking to them both anxiously, "to keep these all in your head? There's a lot of them, it must be normal to not remember all of them all the time?"

Miles and Keiko exchanged glances, a second-long conversation that Julian was not privy to.

"All parents make mistakes," said Keiko kindly. "It's when these things start getting ignored often that there's a problem."

"And some of them you barely have to think about anyway," added Miles. "You know, "right to shelter", "right to food", "right to clothes" -- it's not difficult stuff. You don't have kids if you don't want to look after them properly."

"Then why did my parents find it so difficult?" The words burst out of Juliann before he could stop them. "What was so wrong with me that meant they didn't do all this?"

"No, oh no, Julian," said Keiko, as Miles reached out to pull him in for a hug. "Don't think like that. It wasn't you--"

Julian wasn't really listening: his question had finally given him the puzzle piece he had been missing -- he'd realised what hadn't been adding up.

"No... no, it's fine," he said, feeling a little floaty now he'd got his thoughts all in order. "No, it was me. I was a difficult kid. That's..." He shook himself, feeling his cheeks get hot as he wondered what the O'Briens must be thinking. "I'm sorry, this session was supposed to be about your child, not about me."

"Our child," corrected Miles gruffly. "And this is important, Julian. I don't give a damn if you were "difficult", your parents don't get to just ignore your rights."

"You don't understand," said Julian desperately, hoping he'd be able to make them see even without mentioning his enhancements. He'd made a real mountain out of a molehill here, he didn't know why he hadn't managed to connect the dots quicker before this all had spiralled out of control. "I tried to piss my parents off. I'd stay out too late and go drinking illegally and date guys way too old for me just because I knew it would annoy them. And I'd always talk back and argue with my dad, and find ways to be smarter than him, and--"

"And none of that was enough to lose your rights, Julian," said Keiko gently. "That's not how it works."

Julian was shaking; he didn't want to listen to them. He'd figured it out -- it was his fault his parents hadn't done everything they were supposed to, because if it wasn't his fault, it was their fault, and that meant... well, that they were abnormally bad parents, and that... that...

"Hey," said Miles, more softly than Julian had ever heard him, peeling Julian's hands away from where he'd been covering his ears. "Let's say you're right -- just for a moment," he added in response to Keiko's hissed "Miles?". "Maybe we don't understand everything that went on. Why don't you tell us which of these you weren't getting from your parents, yeah? Explain it to us a bit more?"

Flashing him a weak smile, Julian nodded. he should have known he could always count on Miles.

"Okay, yeah, um -- so I guess, uh, "right to choose your own name"?" he said, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched Keiko pull the poster up on her PADD and circle it, but choosing not to comment. "It wasn't like, transphobic or anything though," he defended. "They'd just always called me 'Jules' since I was little, you know? So it's not really..." He trailed off, shrugging.

"Okay..." said Miles, and Julian tried to ignore the dubious look his friend shot at Keiko. "Anything else?"

"Um -- I always had to, uh, leave my door open? Or if I closed it, they wouldn't knock before coming in... That's not that weird though, right? One of my Academy friends thought it was, but--"

"Did you feel like your parents respected your privacy?" asked Keiko, and Julian looked at her for a few seconds, before shaking his head.

"But they were my parents," he said. "That was just how they looked out for me. They were supposed to look out for me."

"And you were supposed to have a right to privacy," replied Keiko, making another circle on her PADD. Fuck, this wasn't going the way Julian had thought it would. Hurriedly, he looked for a different one to try to explain better.

"Constant criticism," he said, distantly noticing the strangled tone to his voice. "That's hardly surprising, right? I mean, if you get things wrong all the time, you're going to be criticised, that's just how it works."

Neither Keiko nor Miles looked convinced; clearly he wasn't trying hard enough, describing clearly enough why it had been alright his parents hadn't been perfect. He was getting this all wrong.

The right to make mistakes.

For some reason, those had been the words his eyes hadn't been able to leave alone. Every time he went past them, his heart caught on them, as though the words were a rusty nail left half-buried in his skin.

It wasn't a fair comparison, really. He had been different to the other children -- better, smarter -- so of course he hadn't been allowed to make the same mistakes they did. Of course his parents' expectations had been high; they'd known what he was.

But all the same, it sounded nice, that imaginary childhood where all mistakes were okay, not just the ones he'd carefully measured out to avoid detection.

He didn't realise he was crying until he felt a rough thumb wiping a tear off his cheek.

"Oh, Julian," Miles was saying. "It's okay, you can let it out now. We're here for you. I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known."

[blamebrampton]

Books talk to each other. Mostly because practically every writer is also a voracious reader, but also because books arise out of times and places and we share a lot of our worlds these days. So it’s unsurprising that several novels I have hugely enjoyed over the past few years share the theme of the antiheroine who is past all giving of the fucks. Naomi Novik’s powerful dark sorceress kept on her own tight leash in the Scholomance books was a joy to follow; Xiran Jay Zhao’s Iron Widow slashed her way into my heart and now Sarah Rees Brennan’s Long Live Evil has added to a list of beloved antiheroines that probably started for me with Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair.

Coincidentally, when considering how to describe Long Live Evil without significant spoilers, I realised that it shared several major themes with Vanity Fair. Young woman unfairly treated by fate decides to embrace her slut era to survive a war zone – both very accurate and wildly inaccurate for both. LLE opens with main character Rae in a hospital bed, teasing her sister about a book series they both adore. Rae is taking refuge in the story they have shared over years because it is one of the few things they have left: she is losing her fight against cancer and has been losing parts of her life, family and memory as that fight has progressed.

My personal hospital experiences have all been to do with major traumas rather than illness, which I vastly prefer because if you don’t die in the first couple of days, you usually start mending and you can immediately make plans to make the best of whatever you’ve broken. Rees Brennan, however, famously wrote a very funny, very horrible, ‘Kids, you won’t believe what shenanigans your girl’s been up to now, it’s only stage four Hodgkins lymphoma!’ post on her Tumblr or LJ (someone who has been hit in the head with taxis fewer times than me will doubtless factcheck that in the notes) about seven or eight years ago and then faced the very serious business of trying to live. The hospital scenes are painfully authentic, as are the stories of people who have left Rae as she slipped further out of everyday life.

For Rees Brennan, a loving family and peer group were there to hold her as close as they could. For Rae, only her beloved little sister, Alice, and Time of Iron, their favourite fantasy series, remain. They read the books together, remember adventures cosplaying and watching the musical, they wonder about the final instalment; for Rae it’s a joy she can still share (even if she doesn’t remember as much as she should), for Alice, it’s her two greatest loves. When a strange woman offers a door into the world of the book and a possible magical cure to Rae, she wants it as much as she disbelieves it.

Stepping into Eyam, the land of Time of Iron, Rae finds herself in the body of a villain doomed to die the next day. No worries! She’s thought and fought her way out of worse scraps than this in her past as a head cheerleader, let alone while battling cancer. She can use her knowledge of the plot to change things! If only she remembered more of the books…

Portal fantasies are common enough, but not all play by the same rules. This isn’t Narnia, where the magical world is more real than our own, for Rae, the world of the book is nothing more a tool to get her hands on the cure. She doesn’t need to care about any of these people, they’re not real. Most of them speak in a formal language that relies on the conventions of fantasy literature (there is an ongoing, warm-hearted skewering of all Game of Thrones-esque texts running through both the story and the in-text ‘quotes’ from Time of Iron) and half the characters are known more by their descriptions rather than their names. So she will play the Beauty Dipped in Blood, with her questionable morals, impractical clothes and centre-of-balance-distorting boobs for the weeks that will pass until the cure is available. Whoever she has to shuffle in the plot to secure a place beside that cure, she will shuffle. While she’s not out to kill anyone, it’s not as though they were ever really alive. Not like her. If she has to be the villain to survive, she will be an impeccable one. The people will cheer evil on!

Obviously, little goes to plan. Rae’s illness has taught her cruelty, but she hasn’t forgotten what it is to be kind. Even as she manipulates her role into ongoing main character, she realises that’s not how anyone gets a happy ending. That’s not how she can live with herself. As she comes to think of the other people in the story as real, they become more so, both in how we read them and in how they impact the story. Rae remembers what it is like to make friends, which she never meant to, but, oh, the luxury after years of watching people slip away!

As in previous novel In Other Lands, Rees Brennan has a long list of fantasy tropes to embrace and undermine, and her deft touch with humour is as evident as ever here, but her publishers call this her first adult novel and there is a shift in tone from her previous works. Anger is more real and lasting. Consequences are more significant. Understanding is reached for, even if it’s bitter. One of my favourite things is that she lets her female characters rage, but never judges those who can’t, whether because they’re too powerless or just too tired, and her male characters are allowed to be people if they choose to be — which all but the most vainglorious do.

I hadn’t paid much attention beyond checking the release date for the book, so didn’t realise it was the first in a series. For me, it worked perfectly as a standalone novel, even with the unended threads, which would have perfectly balanced Rae’s unfinished life. That said, I am very happy to know we will spend more time with these characters in the future. I want more. I do want to know if there is a hope for Rae, if this is the fever dream of a fading life, if this is the story Alice has told to ease her sister from the world or something else. There are a dozen characters I hope for, at least three happy endings that would bring joy. But don’t wait for the next books: sink your teeth into this one and believe what it says about the importance of listening to stories rather than just falling in love with characters. Though if you find yourself cheering on Rae, or her servant Emer, the elusive Eric, Horrible Hortensia or almost any of the others, I am the last person who will judge you.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

I saw your hc post with Nathan with a feminine s/o and the part where he liked listening to her talk and that got me thinking about this. He would love it if his s/o played piano. Like, he puts a piano in places like the living room and his office just so when he's there he can listen to them play. Sh maybe you could make a small hc post based on that idea

Ahh, I love this! Sorry it took me so long to post!

Nathan Bateman GN!Reader • Rating: T•Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Warnings: Soft!Nathan , swearing, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 455

Oh my gosh, literally pianos everywhere. You have to tell him to calm the fuck down. 

“Do you want a new piano?” “No, you bought me five already.” “Do you need one in a different colour?” “No.” “What about another grand piano for the-” “Nathan.” 

Doesn’t pester you to play for him, but is very happy whenever you play. Even if you’re trying out a new piece and feel like you're constantly messing up, he’s just 100% heart eyes at all times.

Will, however, act like he isn’t if you call him on it. 

If you’re playing and it isn’t within his earshot you’re gonna get a series of, ‘why aren’t you playing near me so I can listen?’ type messages.

You end up just practising near him so he doesn’t complain. 

You call him a baby (affectionate) about it. 

He says he isn’t and sulks for 3 hours. 

When you find him you show him a little song you’ve written for him. 

He gets a little over emotional that you made something for him. And tries to hide it. (He does a bad job.)

Asks you to teach him how to play.

He understands the theory really well, but gets annoyed when he can’t play perfectly after 30 seconds. 

“You’re really good Nathan!”

“I’m shit.”

“You can’t expect to play it perfectly the first time.”

“Why?”

You roll your eyes. “Because you have to learn the muscle memory, you couldn’t box amazingly the first time you tried could you?” 

“I could.” 

“Fuck off.” 

You give him little lessons every day, which he adores. He progresses well, he’s obviously trying really hard, but after a couple of weeks, you realise he’s doing it more to spend time with you and to share in something you enjoy than to become a master at it. (Which surprises you.) 

He likes calling you ‘bossy’ when you tell him to practise or play something. This morphs a little and sticks into a nickname, ‘boss’. 

Whenever he’s on a conference call and someone asks him to do something he doesn’t want to, instead of saying a flat ‘no.’ he just starts shrugging and saying ‘you better ask the boss.’ 

He does not explain this to anyone, causing a lot of confusion (which he loves). 

No one has any idea that you’re ‘the boss’ until a rare in-person event when Nathan isn’t being his hermit self and he refers to you by the nickname in front of a couple of staff. 

What you expect to be the end of the joke turns into people asking and emailing you for permission and sign offs. (And to get Nathan to do things.) 

Nathan finds this all hilarious and will not correct the situation.

Thank you for reading!

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[hoebii]

Black Mamba XII

Pairing : OT7 x Hybrid! Reader Genre : Angst, Fluff, Hybrid!Au Rating: nc-17 Warning : Violence, swearing, mental breakdowns, weapons (mentioned), toxic thoughts, blood • Information above may change as the story progresses Wc : 1.3k Betas : @moccahobi​​ Banner and divider : @jaeism​ Wanna be tagged? Complete this form A/N : *taps mic* I'm alive and I'm sorry for going poof for so long but I hope you guys enjoy this chapter even though the wait wasn't worth it at all I know Feedback is always appreciated! *runs and trips and then runs away again into the darkness*

Previous || Next

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you felt someone place a plate of food on the dining room table in front of you. You looked up to see Kevin beside you, briefly giving you a nod of acknowledgement before moving on to serve the others who sat around the table. You nodded your head in gratitude, pulling the plate closer to you and fiddling with the silverware already set on the table. 

You had been getting lost in your head more often recently. Ever since the past started visiting you, disguised as nightmares, you started to sleep less - not wanting to be thrusted back into moments of your life you no longer wished to be a part of. 

When Namjoon adopted you, you wished to leave everything behind, no longer to be tied down to your dark past. 

Though who were you kidding? You could never run from the atrocities that you once committed.

The things you had done could never be excused, there was no redemption for you.

You tried to push the thoughts back but each time you tried, the voices came back stronger. 

You know you don’t deserve this luxurious life. These people who show you nothing but kindness deserve a lot more than what you can give them.

You were broken out of your reverie when the sound of chatter and laughter reached your ear, cutting through the dark clouds that took place in your mind. Looking up, you watched as the masters conversed amongst themselves at the dinner table while being served.

You still remember the first day they had invited you to have food with them - which was the first day you were adopted - and how Taehyung had given his seat to you as there weren’t enough chairs for all eight of you to sit together, much to Yoongi’s chagrin. 

You had offered to simply eat in the kitchen or even the floor if needed, though the horrified looks on everyone’s faces had made you realise that wasn’t an option. After that, they had bought a bigger dining table, one that would fit everyone.

Your eyes met Hoseok’s, who was sitting opposite to you with Yoongi and Jimin on either side of him. Namjoon sat at the head of the table and Taehyung and Jungkook sitting on either side of you, the other chair at the head of the table empty.

Hoseok gave you a smile before returning his attention to the conversation he was having with Yoongi.

Namjoon cleared his throat to grab everyone’s attention at the table. Shooting you a smile of his own when his eyes met yours before looking at the others too.

“So I was thinking,” he started. “None of us have properly introduced ourselves and what we do to Y/N here. Why don’t we do so right now?”

Your interest piqued at that, sitting up straight and focusing all your attention at Namjoon.

“I’ll go first,” he offered, never losing the gentle smile he always seemed to have when speaking to the inhabitants of the house. “I’m a lawyer, as I told you before. A criminal lawyer to be more specific.”

“I’m your typical businessman,” Jimin continued right after Namjoon without missing a beat as he gave you a cheeky smile.

You looked at Hoseok when he laughed, wanting to know the reason behind it. 

“Don’t let him fool you, Y/N. He’s the CEO of HJ Enterprise, alongside me. He’s anything but a typical businessman, he can charm your whole company under his name if you’re not careful.”

Your eyes widened at that, making Hoseok laugh out louder while Jimin hit his shoulder playfully with a scoff.

“Owner of Ddaeng Bar,” Yoongi mumbled, looking bored as ever as he gave a small wave with his fingers. 

Though you wouldn’t say Yoongi liked you now, he was more tolerant towards you. Rather than scoffing or leaving the place whenever you entered, he took to simply ignoring you unless needed otherwise. On a good day, he might even speak to you unprompted! Mostly to notify you about one of the other masters looking for you or such but a win was a win and you had no right to complain.

“He opened Ddaeng purely for getting free alcohol whenever he wants,” you heard Taehyung stage-whisper into your ear. You didn’t react like you once would at being startled, rather only stiffening before relaxing just as quickly. 

You had gotten the closest to Taehyung, with him always trying to spend his free time with you or giving you compliments whenever he had the chance. You weren’t used to getting so much attention, so at first you used to fumble for words and try to leave the place with one excuse or another but Taehyung stayed persistent.

Whenever you would try to leave, he would follow you around like the puppies you used to see back in the adoption centre. If that wasn’t possible then you found Taehyung sulking around until you would speak to him again. 

There was an instance where Jin had seen Taehyung sulking after you had once again ran away from him and he made a joke about how Taehyung seems to prefer your company more than theirs. You didn’t know why but watching the other masters - except Yoongi, who simply watched the scene unfold - join in with Jin’s joke made your face feel so warm. It was truly a peculiar feeling, the warmth that spread throughout your body.

It was especially confounding when Jimin made a comment about how he was jealous, to which Jungkook also agreed and you feared you were falling sick with the way your heartbeat spiked and face flushed even more. 

Was this normal? You couldn't tell if you should have been more concerned or not.

Although you had to admit that even though you didn’t want to and it was in no way voluntary, you had started to trust Taehyung a little. He was slowly becoming someone you dared to say that you enjoyed the company of. Someone you felt like you could share what was on your mind without thinking too much about the protocols you would surely be breaking if you were back at the lab.

It scared you how much you were slowly starting to break all those trainings that were ingrained into you, never to be forgotten or broken.

Or so you thought but with all those protocols that were purely there to make sure you were but a mere robotic killing machine slipping away, you felt lost and stranded. Fight as you might, you couldn't help lowering your guard and disregard the dangers that may come with doing so the more you got to stay with your masters.

It was only a matter of time before they would leave you and you still took these risks. What were you becoming? This was not what you were created as.

Before you could drown farther into the abyss, you were brought back to present yet again as you heard a dismissive grunt escape Yoongi’s throat, once more settling your attention on the ongoing conversation.

“And what about it?” Yoongi grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Taehyung. 

The younger laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender before he turned to you again, ignoring the question that was thrown his way. 

“I’m a fashion designer,” he started, puffing his chest out in pride. “If you couldn’t tell yet by my immaculate taste in fashion.”

Jungkook from your other side snorted, making you turn to him next. “I’m sorry, does the Stitch onesie fall under this ‘immaculate fashion taste’ too?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook laughed louder at the offended look Taehyung shot him, grinning mischievously before giving you a wink. “I’m in the automotive industry, founder of JK Car Manufacturer. I’ll get you the best cars out there, ones that are fast enough to help you escape after robbing a bank.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal” you stated, raising your eyebrows.

“I know,” he replied, the cheshire grin never leaving his face.

Namjoon cleared his throat, shooting Jungkook a look you weren’t able to quite decipher but it made the younger lean back into his chair and whistle innocently.

Did you miss something?

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[shiinata-library]

Imagine: You can speak to animals in Middle-Earth

Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo's reactions when they understand you can speak to animals in Middle-Earth

N/A: I haven't written in English for a while. I may be rusty…

[ 📚 Main Imagines Masterlist 📚 ]

Thorin

“The inn is this way,” you say to Thorin several times during the journey when he is lost in towns that you pass through. Or something like “I think the stable with our ponies is at your right, then at your left.” Or, “Oh, Balin is looking for you at the town's entrance, hm, straight on, then left after the bakery.”

At the beginning of the journey, it surprised you how many times Thorin could be lost. But now, you eventually get used to it. 

The only thing you’re not used to is the look on his face every time you help him. Surprised and suspicious. While you just want to help him…

Well, could you tell him it's some ravens that are letting you know when he needs help? “The king is looking for Master Balin.” “The king doesn’t walk in the right direction.” “My lady, the king wants to go to the inn.” They are polite but they never give you the choice…

Other animals speak sometimes with you and you love to listen to them. It’s surprising how much you can learn with them. The best place for that is in Beorn’s house. Thanks to his hospitality, you can walk around his house and speak to animals you have never spoken to before. It’s fun and it especially changes your mind after everything has happened during the journey.

Yet, when you thought ravens have let you in peace, two of them come for you in an evening. You have just finished dinner and the night has almost fallen. They ask for help, explaining their baby is trapped in an orc’s trap. At first, you want to refuse : it’s almost night, Beorn is already out in bear’s form, and some orcs are also soon out.

But you can’t let a baby raven die, right? So you follow them in the forest behind Beorn house. A forest that looks welcoming by day, but much less so at night.

Thanks to other animals' help, you finally find the trap, more or less quickly, and free the little one. As he thanks you, you notice the silence around you, especially the ravens. Then, you notice the darkness of the forest. You remain motionless until you hear a voice behind you.

“What are you doing here?” a cold, hard male voice says behind as you turn to him and realise it’s only Thorin. Even in the dark, it’s impossible not to recognise his voice.

Damn, your heart is dead by now. You don’t even find the good words. “It’s our fault, my King,” one of the ravens says as he comes closer to you on a branch. He explains everything to Thorin while you look at him astonished.

“Don’t tell me he could understand you from the start!” you say, upset as you turn to the raven. “Why did you use me all this time if he could understand?” you progressively raise your voice, ignoring where you are.

“Roäc is the only raven I can understand,” Thorin says. “But now is not the time to speak. Let’s go back to–” When he stops talking, you shiver. You can feel you’re not alone. The ravens and the other animals are already left. Thorin suddenly takes your hand and pulls it. You start a quick sprint to Beorn’s house and you’re glad no orcs found you. 

You enter the house out-of-breath. Thorin turns to you, not making the effort to hide his anger. He shouts at you that you should never have gone outside, that you’re stupid, that you could die easy. And like Bilbo before, that you shouldn't be here with them. 

Oh, hm, it really hurts to hear all of that. You remain silent, looking down until you notice he is still holding your hand. His hand is so big but warm. Oh. Hm. It’s hot all of a sudden, isn’t it? 

“Well,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry if Roäc bothered you many times. And thank you for saving his little one.” Is he embarrassed? Oh, you would give anything to have more light to see if he is blushing!

“It’s nothing. He and other ravens helped me during the journey, so it's normal.” Now you look him in the eye, you don’t know what to add. He also seems engrossed by your eyes.

Maybe something could have happened. Well, only if his nephews didn’t enter the room abruptly, shouting they were looking for him. Or maybe it's just postponed for another time…

Fíli 

“Kíli is looking for you,” you say to Fíli once you find him cleaning one of his swords among a lot of them scattered on the floor. An impressive collection that you always wonder if you already saw all of them or not. “This time is because Dwalin has made fun of him and he wants revenge. It seems he can’t leave without you less than an hour,” you resume, smiling as you see him putting away his swords one by one. “The maximum was three days,” he replies, laughing at his own answer. “I'm surprised you found me before him.”

Can you tell him you asked for help from a bird and a dog? The town where you stopped isn’t big but it seems that Kíli couldn’t find his brother ; or maybe it was Fíli who didn't want us to find him. Anyway, you offered your help and with your capacity, it’s always easy to find someone, in exchange for some food or other information. Animals are easier to convince than humans.

“I guess I’m lucky,” you answer, shrugging as you start to walk with him. “Speaking of luck, you should speak to Oín about your recent injury. It could become infected.” Despite your serious tone, he looks at you with a smile, the radiant smile that swings the beads from his moustache, but doesn’t say anything about it. When you join his brother, they immediately start to plan to take revenge on Dwalin, leaving you to your own business before Kíli asks for your help.

During the journey, you notice Fíli disappears sometimes for a short time. You guess you need time alone when you’re a prince with an uncle like Thorin and a brother like Kíli. Even Dwalin and Balin seem to expect a lot from him. It looks exhausting, even from where you are. But, you always eventually find him when someone is looking for him, and luckily for you, he is never upset with it.

Yet, one evening when you were looking for him because Thorin needs him, you got lost in the forest. Because of the darkness of the night, your foot catches on a root and you fall suddenly to the ground. Great, now you’re hurt in addition to being lost…

You chose to sit down for a while, waiting for the pain to pass. Then, you strangely notice there are no animals around you to help you. It’s not good. Not good at all. The only time you didn't find animals in a forest was when there was an orc camp nearby. 

When you wait in this kind of situation, it’s hard to know how much time passes, but the forest is totally dark when you decide to go back to the company’s camp. Now, you can only count on your luck to find the right path and not to meet orcs…

You barely walk when you hear silent branches crackling not far from you. Just a few metres from you, one orc with a small lantern is walking. An orc scout. You don’t have time to take out your weapon that he is already running after you.

When you are about to run, a raven rushes to his face, blinding him, while someone comes from nowhere and kills him without a sound. The lantern falls in the ground and you recognise Fíli. The raven doesn’t wait to fly away, letting you both alone while he crushes the lantern and the fire with his foot.

“How did you find me?” you ask, surprised, as he takes your hand and starts walking away. “Wait, my foot is hurt, I can’t walk fast…”

He stops his steps and takes you on his back as if you weighed nothing. Oh, his hair smells like earth and metal. “My uncle’s raven helped me,” he eventually says as he starts walking. “And some of your friends showed me the forest but my uncle’s raven was the only one who wanted to go with me in this forest’s part.”

“My friends?” you frown. “A squirrel, a bird and, hm, a frog,” he says. “The last one was really hard to follow.”

You stay silent for a moment, understanding he knows you can talk to animals. “How do you know?” you eventually ask, shyly hidden behind his back.

You hear him laugh first as you both get out of the forest, seeing the company's camp nearly. “You talked with all the animals you meet. It's not hard to guess.” 

“So, everyone knows?” you exclaim, glad to be out of the forest given the volume of your voice. “I don't think so,” he says as you breathe in relief. “But I can ask them if they know about it.” 

You don't need to see him to know he's smiling. You travel enough with him and his brother to know when they take advantage of a situation. “What do you want to hold your tongue?” you ask, a little upset. “Nothing,” he replies as he puts you on the ground, his smile widening when he sees your annoyed expression. “Nothing yet,” he hurries to resume. “Let me think about it and I'll tell you.” 

As you both almost join the company's camp, the light of the fire shows his proud face. You don't know what you should expect from his future request, but you know he already enjoys it…

Kíli 

If there is something you enjoy the most in this journey, it’s teasing Kíli. His reactions are always entertaining!

It started at the beginning of the journey when he asked the company where his knife was. Thanks to a little bird’s murmur, you found it for him. He was very surprised. It was honestly so cute. 

Now the journey continues and you often answer his questions. You can even predict the rain. It’s amazing for you and troubling for him. Maybe you should tell him the truth before he imagines anything. But, well, his expressions are too cute and innocent to stop. 

Some dwarves are still suspicious about you, and this doesn't get better with all your answers. So, you would like to avoid Kíli and his questions, but it’s impossible. You’re becoming more and more friends with him, and he often speaks with you, especially in the evening after dinner, when everyone is busy with their own things. (In truth, his brother is also often with you both, when he is not with his uncle and Balin.)

Yet, something changes when you arrive in Beorn’s home. When you realise the skin-changer can also, more or less, speak with animals, you spend a lot of time with him. Used to live alone, you thought you were bothering him, but he seemed interested in talking to you about some animals, their habits, their preferences or the manner to ask them a service. 

So, as Kíli doesn’t know about your ability, he doesn’t understand your obsession for him. “Obsession” may be an exaggeration, but he really misses you. He tries to speak with you, but you often say that you’re busy with Beorn.

A night when Kíli notices you’re not sleeping yet, he looks for you in the house. His worry increases when he doesn’t find you and nobody can tell him where you are. Even if Beorn told them not to go out at night, he ends up outside, walking around the house. 

“No! Don’t get too close to me like that!” he hears you exclaim in the distance. “Don’t force me to use my strength against you!” Then he realises your voice is coming from in the barn behind the house. “No, stop! I already told you not to touch me like that!” Alright, Kíli is now running to you, abruptly opening the front door.

Following Beorn’s instructions, you spend your evenings talking to some animals and all the animals have their own personality. And this bloody dog is too affectionate and full of energy to speak with.

When Kíli enters, he shouts your name, waking up all the animals in the barn. He can’t understand them, but they’re furious against him. He runs to you until he notices the dog next to you. “What’s happening here? Are you hurt? Who is touching you? Even if he is very tall, if Beorn tries–”

“What are you talking about? Beorn didn’t do anything!” you suddenly say, standing up. Then, the dog you were talking with pokes you in the leg with his muzzle. “No, he is not!” you whisper, visibly embarrassed.

“He is not what?” Kíli asks, raising an eyebrow. You start to walk to the exit, but the dog is following you. 

“Yet, you seem important to him!” the dog barks as he walks before you and goes out when you open the door. “He often looks at you during the day. Even his brother is sick of hearing him talk about you all the time.”

“Stop saying nonsense. Join the others for the night and we’ll continue tomorrow,” you reply, not noticing that Kíli looks at you talking to the dog until the dog barks again before leaving. “So, ask him what he dreamt about yesterday night, you will know!”

The dog finally runs away, leaving you and Kíli alone walking to Beorn’s house. He stays silent, hoping you would explain what happened. Yet, you surprise him so much by asking him what his dream was last night that he can’t help but blush and lose his words. His eyes suddenly open wide and he even takes a step back. He was far from imagining that you would ask that question and you clearly understand it when he quickly wishes you a good night before leaving you alone in the entrance.

You stay a while thinking about what happened until you choose to go to sleep, hoping the dog will be talkative tomorrow.

Bilbo 

Talking to animals is so great. In exchange for information or services, they can tell you a lot of things, especially where the best fruits or nuts are. You’re clearly never hungry.

And it didn't escape the hobbit's notice! Bombur or some others saw it too, but they are still too suspicious about you to speak to you. So one afternoon, usually at tea time, Bilbo approaches you on his pony and asks you where you find your apple. You’re happy someone other than Gandalf talks to you, so you gladly tell him and give one from your bag.

That’s how you started your friendship with Mr Baggins. You even call him “Bilbo” now. But you never dared tell him your capacity. He'd think you were crazy, wouldn't he?

Bilbo knows you hide something from him, but everyone has their secrets, so he never asks you how you find those fruits and nuts. It’s only in Mirkwood that he discovers your ability. 

Mirkwood, as everyone else, turns your head and you have trouble staying focused. It’s only when the spiders attack that you notice you aren’t with the company but you can still hear them shouting in the distance. A giant spider finds you, then another. It’s clearly impossible to flee, so let’s try talking?

Well. You try the same technique that Bilbo used with the trolls, but they are more intelligent than them. “It’s the first time a meal can understand us. It’s amusing, don’t you think?” one says to the other. “You’re right, let’s enjoy it a little longer.” 

They talk to you until you don’t hear anything but them. No dwarves’ shouting anymore. Some other spiders join their friends and now, you’re in the middle of a circle of so many giant spiders that you’re ready to faint. You continue to speak, hoping the elves will be here any minute.

But to your surprise, you hear one of the spiders cries and falls, then another. But you don’t see any elf. 

Then Bilbo appears, provokes the spiders, runs far away before disappearing again. All the spiders run in his direction, leaving you alone. You take advantage of it to free the dwarves and then, the elves finally find you like they should have.

After the elves’ dungeons and the escape, it’s only on the freezing Bard’s boat that you can speak again with Bilbo. You sit next to him, wrapping yourself to keep you warm. “I haven't had time to thank you for the spiders yet…” you say, knowing he saw you talk to them. “They seemed to enjoy chatting with you,” he chuckles. 

“I prefer to chat with you,” you say, closing your eyes and letting your head fall on his shoulders. Some dwarves smile but remain silent. You can’t see it but Bilbo’s face has never been so warm despite the cold of the lake.

[writing-house-of-m]

Home

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: A little bit of an anxious Wanda

Word count: 1648

Summary: Wanda is worried she has too many things when moving in with you

A/N: Just a little idea that came to mind when I saw this post. It was supposed to just be a short drabble and posted a while ago but it took me a longer to finish it because I kept adding little things. I hope you all like it, let me know what you think!

The day had finally arrived. All of Wanda's things were packed and she was ready to move in with you. 

You had a house away from the compound, so it made the most sense to move there. 

She wasn't completely nervous about living with you. You were considerate and thought of her at every turn, you had even arranged a truck to gather her things, but the feeling lingered. 

There was one set of things she was really unsure about and Wanda wasn't sure what your response would be when you saw them. 

"Let's get started," you state with a kind smile on your face as you begin your first of many trips to the moving truck. 

It was sad to see that Wanda's life from Sokovia fit into one box. It was filled with things like the clothes she wore before her country was destroyed to small trinkets she managed to save in the rubble reminding her of her family.  

She didn't think she would recover from losing Pietro as well as her home all in one day. But she did and as much as you would deny it, it was thanks to you and your support. 

Other boxes were filled with new memories she had collected over the years since then. It was funny for Wanda to realise, as she was packing her things to leave, that these people she now considers her family and this place has been her home. 

She packed things like photographs with the team, new hobbies she picked up along the way and the bane of your existence - the clothes she had 'borrowed' from you. 

There must have been at least a whole suitcase full of your things making you half joke about the fact that she was making you do double the work because she couldn't have just left them at yours in the first place. 

She was ready with her rebuttal saying some of her clothes were already at yours giving you a cheeky smile that you kissed away as you walked by her. It didn't stop you from commenting on another two cases that were filled with more of her clothes. 

Slowly but surely you were making progress. You made sure you were careful because you didn't want to damage anything. 

You couldn't blame Wanda for the amount of things she had. The way her life has panned out, of course she would have grown attachments to the things she has in her life when she has already lost so much. 

When the idea of moving in with each other first occurred, after many conversations about your future together, both you and Wanda agree that if you want to have a life and a family together you would do so as normally as possible. 

That meant she was not allowed to use her powers and you were not allowed to hire a bunch of people to do all the hard work of loading the truck. Now, that you had lost count of how many times you had walked between the truck and Wanda's room, you were regretting making that decision so soon. 

As bags and boxes became more and more scarce, Wanda was dreading the oncoming realisation of what was left. Not to mention how many of them there were. 

You look around at the remaining bundles assessing what is left while also taking a short breather, "These are all your books?" You question with your hands on your hips and eyebrows furrowed, confusion lacing your voice. 

Wanda hums, but you are too deep in thought to hear the unsureness behind it. 

"I thought it was just a little cabinet you had, where did all these come from?" You continue, still thinking to yourself. 

"I had to keep a lot stored because I didn't have the space for them all," Wanda grimaces behind you. While you are still unaware of her uneasiness. 

Your shoulders drop, looking disappointed as you look around at the amount that is surrounding you. 

Wanda interrupts your thoughts, "I'll get rid of some, I know I have a lot. I just figured I could do it after moving them to yours? Because they are already packed," she trails off. 

You look more perplexed than before, "What? Why would you do that?" 

"Because I have too many," she says, almost as if it is a question. 

"No, it's fine, I have the room for them all," you say casually. If you knew about Wanda's hesitance you would have cracked your usual joke of having 'Stark money' because of your father. Instead you turn back around to face the piles of boxes and suitcases filled with varying literature. "It's just that I ordered a bookshelf, but it's definitely not going to be big enough. I'll have to cancel it." 

As you walk over to some boxes where the flaps are still open, you close them while you continue, Wanda watching you move with ease, "I was just thinking I can install my own shelves on an empty wall I have, but I'll need to reinforce them because I wouldn't want the shelves to dip in the middle from the weight."

Wanda feels a sense of relief as well as her body filling with warmth that only you can do without even knowing. Always thinking ahead, of what she needs. 

When you finish rambling about what type of wood you will buy, how much to get, and what size you will need, you finish taping the last unsecure box looking in Wanda's direction. 

Wanda feels her heart full of love for you and with a smile of admiration present on her face she walks slowly over to you.

These were the thoughts that were plaguing your mind. Not that her things were an inconvenience. But how best you can accommodate her. 

She places her arms around your neck, one hand playing with the hairs at the nape of your neck, while your arms automatically wrap around her waist. Wanda looks at you for a second before she rests her forehead against yours, sighing through her nose, signalling the weight lifting from her shoulders. 

"Are you okay, my love?" you ask quietly. 

She nods her head slightly against you, "I just love you a whole lot, you know that?" Wanda smiles. How could she have ever doubted you? 

Every worry Wanda had, you countered with a solution. Every time. All new furniture was already built fresh, ready for her to organise all her things when she arrives at the house with everything today. 

Whenever Wanda voiced her concerns about any little thing; too many clothes, shoes, records and her unvoiced biggest collection - her books. You were already thinking of a way to make it work. An example being when you jabbered on about extending the closet space so you would both get all your clothes in the same place, 'it needed a revamp anyway' you said so easily. 

"Well that's good. Because I love you a whole lot," you reply, matching her smile. 

Wanda presses her lips softly against yours, hoping to convey what she can't say in words with the action.  

This is the happiness Wanda was never able to let herself feel worthy of. Worry around every corner of another person she can potentially lose. 

But with you, you make everything better. More than she could have ever imagined so. 

"As much as I'd like to keep holding you, we still have a bit to go," you say when the kiss ends. 

Once everything is moved out you give Wanda a moment alone in her now old and empty room. She makes her way over to the stand beside her bed remembering two things she hadn't packed. 

A couple of framed photos; one of her as a child with her family, it was crumpled from always keeping it with her but still meant more to her than anything else she owned; the second was a photo with the avengers and you holding her from behind at one of your father's famous party's. 

She tears up a little at all the people she is able to call family and smiles when she thinks about the one she will make with you. 

After a moment longer she makes her way to where you are outside talking to Natasha and Steve near the truck. 

Wanda says goodbye to them with a hug each before turning to leave. They say their farewells, confirming they will see you both soon because there is always something to do in your line of work. You joke about the fact it's been a while since your dad threw a party and it would be more likely you will see them at one of those sooner than the world ending. 

As you buckle yourself in, Wanda does the same then takes a look at the compound. Now that she is moving out, Wanda feels a heaviness in her chest, she didn't think she would ever actually leave this place despite not seeing it as her home for the longest time. 

You take her hand in her lap and affirm she is okay before starting up the truck. She meets your eyes and the action lifts the weight on her chest as she nods her head. 

It has been a slow dream come true for Wanda. Finding a home in you. A dream she didn't even know she had until things started to get serious with you. It was something she never knew she wanted but now knows it is what she has always needed. 

"Let's go home," you say, kissing the back of her hand, smiling softly.

Wanda holds your hand tighter as you let it rest in her lap. Returning your soft smile, she whispers emotionally, "I already am home." 

The smile on your face widens knowing what she means. Silently agreeing she is your home too. 

[breathe-101]

The long drive home!

Characters: Jacob Scipio and writer.

Dear diary,


Hehehe, look at you and your nosy self.

There's some PG18 stuff I need to share.

As you were!


Sooooo, I’ve been dating Jacob for about six months now.

It was my idea to keep it private of course.

Honestly, after loving him from a distance for so long, I just wanted to give it a chance.

You know better than anyone that he's my first boyfriend.

It's exciting but I can't really say I'm not scared.

Just a little. Okay, maybe a lot.

Oh my days what the fork am I saying!


Anyway, having flown in this morning he insisted on picking me up after work.

I didn’t want him to cause man needed sleep.

The press tour was long and to expect anything from him now was just ridiculous.

We settled on spending the weekend together.

It’s been a hectic week and sleep was all I wanted really.

I don’t think coffee is the answer anymore, might just give myself heart failure at this rate.
 
Oooo and before we move on with the story, I actually said goodbye to my colleagues before leaving the office today.

Talk about progress.

Still don't really like them though.

Anyways, back to the story.


Jacobs black Jaguar pulled up out front.

Sprinting to the car, my first thought was to get the fuck out of there before my colleagues

had something to write about in the group chat.

Forget the butterflies of excitement welling up in my tummy, those villians gossip like fish wives.


Jumping in, there he was, you know.

After weeks of FaceTiming he was actually here.

‘Hi’ I whispered. It was all I could manage in that moment.

No judgement please!


Jacobs hair had grown longer.

Dark curls bouncing effortlessly as he moved his head, looking at me then the road again.

I hadn't even realised we’d started moving.

He had one hand on the wheel and the other now resting comfortably on my thigh giving it a slight squeeze.

You know that grip.

The one that makes you all giddy. Ahhhhh!!!


Okay, so. My eyes made their way down his face, his skin looked good.

Clear and somehow giving off a glow.

He didn’t have any makeup on having had the morning off.

I liked his bare face.

His almond eyes looked more defined against his now darker completion.

Guess the Florida sun agrees with him cause even his lashes looked longer.
The car came to a sudden stop.

Red light.

Lips parting slowly, his face turned towards me and he finally whispered,

‘Hi'. You knowwww, the way guys do when they want you to lean in closer cause you can't hear what they're saying.

Hmmmmm, I see you Jacob!


I watched him unable to speak.

I had so many things I wanted to tell him about

and so many questions to ask but, nothing.

I just happily stared at the amused expression on his face.

His scent filled my nose as he placed his hand on my cheek, outlining my brow then gliding down to rest on my neck.

‘I missed you' he whispered again.

Aaaahhhhh! (Hand on the chest level of excitement)


I followed his inspecting eyes as they made their way up my body.

Starting with my stocking covered legs, then a glance at my full thighs.

Eyes stopping at my chest, Jacob slowly released a deep breath then quickly looked me in the eye.

I could feel him moving closer, fingers caressing the short hair on the back of my neck.

Beeeeeeep!

His gaze sharply turned back to the road as the honking snapped us out of the moment.

Seriously!


It was a long drive to my apartment.

I'd just started a new job and hadn't found a closer place yet.

Note to self, get that sorted ASAP.

He'd packed a bag for the weekend and had several paper bags I didn't recognise.

I wanted to ask but exhaustion got the better of me.

We drove in silence.

Both of us reluctant to disturb the heavy tension in the air.

We'd said a few words about our weekend plans then continued an amusing dance of stealing glances at each other. 
This was all new to me. I'd never really liked someone this much.

I just wanted to touch him.

Feel the weight of his legs wrapped around me and rest my head on his chiseled chest.

He'd been working out.

I could tell. Jacobs arms had grown bigger more defined.

The dark T-shirt hugged his bicep as he loosely held the wheel.

I could see the outline of his abs under the fitted shirt.

His waist looked smaller against his broad shoulders.

His legs had grown bigger, leaner.

Jacob was holding my hand now, squeezing it lightly, stroking my finger with his thumb.

Keep it together girl!


We made a quick stop to get some snacks for the road then continued home.

The heavy atmosphere and smooth car ride made me drowsy.

I wanted to look at him longer but my eyes were fighting a losing battle.

I'd forgotten just how cute he was when he was happy.

Jacobs face broke into a mischievous smile, amused by the drowsy look on my face.


'I thought you were excited to see me. How dare you fall asleep.' He chuckled,

admiring my blushing face unaware of the Pervy thoughts flying around in there.

I let out a lazy laugh, pulling his warm hand closer to my chest.


Jacob moved his hand down to my legs, slowly caressing my inner thigh.

I looked up at him, eyes half closed.

The sky had grown dark, low lights hitting his face, outlining his now fuller beard.

He looked good, really good.

Jacobs hand slowly made its way further between my legs, strong fingers sliding their way against my tight stockings.

I shifted, slightly parting them in response.

Feeling a strong tug, they ripped making way for his fingers.

Hand lightly tracing the ladder paving its way down my inner thigh, his grip on the wheel tightened.


The car stopped.

Red light.

Taking advantage of the short pause, he leaned over, his face right up against mine.

Moving even closer, breathing heavily, I anticipated the feel of his warm, full lips... but he stopped. Such a tease!

His warm breath now flowed into my slightly parted lips.

I was struggling to keep my eyes open but I craved him.

I craved the mouth I hadn't felt for three weeks.

I wanted to bite his plump lip, feel him wince against me then aggressively come back for more.

Invading my mouth, not knowing where his saliva started and mine ended.

Licking the blood off his lip wanting more of him on my tongue.

Girrrrl who are you!

Holding my gaze, he slowly lowered my car seat then turned to face the road.

‘Rest.' He demanded.

The car started moving again.

‘You fiend' I muttered under my breath.


I could feel my body fully relax into the seat as sleep came over me.

But his hand started moving again this time moving closer .

Hhhmmmm This man will be the death of me, I swear.

I'd like to sleep now ,Sir. If you don't mind.'

He let out a deep chuckle, pinching my thigh in the process.

I jumped surprised by the sudden attack.

I smacked his hand and he chuckled again. 'Such a tease' I muttered accusingly.


The hand crept even closer caressing back and forth,

reaching its goal then moving away again.

The frustration from exhaustion and this slow seduction had my body screaming.

Eyes closed I grabbed his hand and slowly guided it up to where we both wanted it.

Parting my legs further, I arched my back, moving my hips higher up the seat to give him a better view.

‘I’d like to drive if you don't mind' his deep voice tugging at my stomach.

I chuckled leaning my head back giving him a good view of my now exposed throat.

‘You can have your hand back if you need it. You seem to be doing just fine with one'.

‘Hmmm' he reluctantly moaned in agreement.


The car stopped, another red light.

Sitting up, I moved closer to him.

Squeezing his hand tighter between my thighs.

I stared into his eyes, reflecting the GPS light. Moving his other hand off the wheel,

I placed it firmly around my throat, squeezing slightly.

We stared at each other desire hanging heavy in the small space.

Eyes barely open I parted my lips, releasing a slow breath, coated with the smell of Maltesers, his favourite.

My hot breath hit his lips then moved down to his throat.

I swallowed.

Making sure his hand felt every inch of the movement before moving it slowly down to my erect nipple.

Orange light.

Peeling his hand off my breast, I returned it to the wheel.

Moving away, I settled back into my seat, fully closing my eyes.

Green light.

‘You should drive Mr Scipio. Don't want to hold up traffic now do we?’

Running his fingers through his hair, eyes fixated on my charged body, Jacob slowly accelerated.

‘You f*cking tease' he breathed, pinching my thigh again as he turned to face the road.

PS: I’ll tell you the rest later xx

[mickeyswhore]

You're Mine Now

A/N: Let me know if I should make a part 2, guys. 🥰

Summary: After Mickey was shot, he left the college and became a hitman. His newest target? You. But he didn't want to kill you, so he decided to take you and make you his.

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Warnings: smut, dark, Mickey's POV, unsavory language, Stockholm syndrome, a dash of daddy kink, talks about murder

(this pic gave the inspo, actually)

Mickey had the foresight to escape after Mrs. Loomis shot him, he wanted to kill the bitch but she was finished off so he was fine. He got all of the money he had access from the bank account before it was closed by the police, so he was able to get by for a couple of years. He went back to the forums where he met Mrs Loomis so he started killing people for hire, it was quickly paying off quickly, he was able to be completely underground and it was great, getting paid for doing what you love.

It has been years now, Mickey was in a routine now. His fees were astronomical because he was the best of what he did, and he made no excuses about it, his only rule was no children, even murderous psychopaths had a line, and that was Mickey’s. Usually his customers were powerful men not wanting to deal with prenups, competitors in their fields, or simply people that pissed them off and that allowed him to walk around the higher circles and Mickey loves the finer things in life, so is a win win situation.

Mickey now was about to meet with a potential client, now he only accepts new customers through referrals, so it doesn’t blow back on him. Only now with all of his security measures in place, Mickey realises in how much danger he was by just accepting random anonymous messages, young and dumb as they say. The building was in a high end hotel, Mickey knew the owner so he knows that every recording of him is prompted deleted. He was wearing his signature full black tailored suit, Mickey was a silver fox now, he was glad that between balding and going gray, it was the latter for him.

“Mr. Wadsworth, how do you do?” The man was probably the same age as Mickey but he was in a disgusting shape, balding and a huge gut, it disgusted Mickey to no end. He took great pride in his appearance, he never understood why other people didn't.

“Mr…I didn't catch your name?” His voice was annoying, Mickey thought, definitely won’t be a regular client.

“That is because I didn't give it to you, shall we?” Mickey motioned for him to sit, which Mr. Wadsworth did. “So, what is the sensitive matter that would like me to handle?” Mickey was always adamant about using vague language, nothing that would look bad on a court reading, was his motto.

“I want a permit for drilling oil but the land is protected by law, there is one senator that is blocking it, I simply need him to have a family emergency, him not being around wouldn’t be good for business.” Mickey laughed, at least he had the foresight to know that getting rid of the only senator blocking his progress would be idiotic, you’d be surprised how many people able to afford a hitman are dumb to target the most obvious person.

“Great, who would be causing the family emergency?” The man passed Mickey the folder, he didn't look at it, Mickey was always adamant about doing his own research.

“It needs to be done before next month.” Mickey nodded and got up from his seat, this man was incredibly dull so he couldn’t wait to leave.

“I know my schedule, transfer half of the money and you’ll hear from me after is done.” They shook hands and Mickey went to his hotel room, it was where he preferred to work. Mickey had a house with way too many acres but he was barely there, if he was being honest it wasn’t conductive to business and it was lonely. Mickey always had one night stands, he hated (loved) to brag but getting women was not an issue for him at all, but an actual relationship? Not likely.

He opened the folder and he saw a photo of the target, the daughter of the senator, you. Seeing your photo made Mickey stop, what a fucking waste, he thought. You were fucking hot, he thought about maybe seducing you and then kill you but would that be enough? Mickey started reading about you, it was comical how much younger you were from Mickey, he was old enough to be his daughter, in his fucked up mind Mickey being so much older than you got him excited.

You were in university, no boyfriend made Mickey smile, from the files it seems as if you were a bit of a loner. He was going to start stalking you and to get close to you, and see how is the best way to do his job. Mickey finished reading your files and went to bed, he was painfully hard now, he simply decided to ignore it and focus on his task, you.

Mickey thought it was way too early, but apparently you woke up that early to go to the library, then your favourite local coffee shop. He got to the library before you, and then you entered the store, it was summer so you were wearing a blue summer dress, Mickey thought you looked delicious. You said hi to the worker and was getting closer to where he was, which was the classics. Mickey was now in character, pretending to ponder on which book to choose, he sighed and that got your attention.

“Hey, sorry to bother you but do you need help?” You tapped him on the shoulder and when Mickey turned to you he wanted to laugh at your reaction, your mouth was open it was clear as day that you found him attractive, that was always made the job much easier.

“It is that obvious that I need help?” Mickey let out a fake embarrassed laugh, it was easy to act like a dork sometimes, Mickey thought.

“Well, no. But you are holding one of my favourites and I need to know why you haven’t chosen it yet.” You were behaving like a school girl with a crush, the giggling, the hand on your face to hide the embarrassment, Mickey thought it was extremely cute.

“It’s for my niece, she just started university and I want to give her a nice gift. Do you think that should I just bite the bullet and buy both?” He gave you his million dollar smile and he could see you melting, you were adorable.

“If you can, I would. Especially if she’s a book worm like me.” You laughed again, and Mickey could see that you couldn’t hold eye contact him and he loved it.

“I can’t believe that you are a book worm, how can such a beautiful woman like you be buried in books? I guess that you have the beauty and the brains, then?” You touched Mickey’s arm while laughing, he got closer to you and you did too.

“You are too kind, sir.” Mickey took a deep breath, you calling him sir being so close to him was making him incredibly hard.

“I’m Mickey, by the way.” He extended his hand for you to shake it and you introduced yourself. Your whole demeanor, voice and body was intoxicating for Mickey, he wanted you, not just for one night, he wanted you to be his forever. “I know this is probably too much too soon but…would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?” He looked at you with a smirk, you looked so flustered and Mickey loved every second of it.

“Yes, there’s a coffee shop that I love.” You and Mickey went to the counter and he paid for both books, he could tell that you were admiring him, his suit, the way Mickey carried himself, he could tell that you enjoyed everything about him.

“Shall we? My car is parked right out front.” Mickey’s hand went on your lower back, he could tell that you enjoyed the contact, getting to the door he made sure to open the door for you. He did the same with his car door, his car was spacious and he could tell that you liked it. “You’re gonna have to guide me, because I moved here a couple months back and I still don’t know my way around it.” The two of you smiled and you were more than happy to give him directions to the coffee shop.

Getting there Mickey could tell that people were staring at him, it was a regular occurrence but he could tell that it was a bit weird for you, so he made sure to be touching you at all times, Mickey pulled the chair out for you and acted like the perfect gentleman for you, he was proud on that fact.

“So, what do you do for a living Mickey?” He could tell that you were nervous, afraid of saying the wrong thing and mess it up but that wouldn’t happen with Mickey to smooth out any situation.

“Consulting, they pay an obscene amount of money to put out their fires.” It was true, his killing rates were astronomical, and he did what he loved. “What about you, sweetheart?” You giggled like a schoolgirl and tried to cover it up with a cough, Mickey tought it was the sweetest thing ever.

“I’m in university at the moment, but I still have no idea what I’m going to do…maybe you can teach me more about consulting?” Mickey could see the attempt of trying to get his number and he smiled.

“I’d be more than happy to teach you anything you want, sweetheart.” Mickey put his hand on yours and you looked at it and he saw how your breathing changed, oh you were horny, Mickey thought to himself.

“I’d like that.” You said in a breathy voice and Mickey knew you were a goner.

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

After your first date, Mickey made sure to take your contact details and he was now a staple in your life. He was the first person you called when you had anything going on in your life, and it has only been a week. Mickey on the other hand was utterly obsessed with you, and he already that he wasn’t going to kill you and that you were going to be with him for the rest of your life. He already had everything ready, and he made sure to destroy the life of the man that wanted you dead and if you were with him, no one would try to kill you because of your father ever again.

Mickey went to the restaurant to meet you, today was the day that he was going to make you his fully. His house was already set for you to be there, no work for a while to pay full attention to you, Mickey never felt this way before, and he wasn’t going to give up on you, he owned you, it was only a matter of time for you to find out.

“How are you, sweetheart?” You went to Mickey and kissed him, and he took advantage of that and put the drug on your drink.

“I’m great, I can’t wait for you to meet my parents.” Mickey smiled, another reason why he wanted to take you away, not having to meet your parents.

“Me too, sweetheart.” The two of you started talking about other things, and you started getting a bit sleepy. “Are you okay, baby?” Mickey looked so concerned, it almost looked real.

“Yeah, yeah…just a bit tired.” You yawned and Mickey asked for the check, the drug was going to knock you out in a few minutes.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” He paid with cash, as always and guided you to his car. As soon as you got there, sleep took over you.

Mickey started driving, he made the point of not initiating any intimacy with you, he wanted you fully comfortable with him. He looked at your exposed legs and Mickey caressed it, your skin was so smooth, he felt like a goddamn teenager, getting hard just by feeling your leg. He focused on the road, otherwise he would start fucking you before you woke up.

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

When Mickey arrived with you still asleep it was evening, he took you out of the car and carried you to his house. House was an understatement, it was a mansion but Mickey hated to brag. He had a bedroom ready for you, it didn't open from the inside, he knew that you were going to freak out for a couple of days and he needed to break you in.

He decorated the bedroom in a way that he knew you would enjoy, he put you on the bed and left. Watching you on the camera, Mickey grabbed a beer and waited for you to wake up. He knew that he could be quite obsessive but there was something about you because Mickey never went through so much trouble just for some pussy.

Hours passed and you started to wake up, Mickey could see and he was excited about it. He could tell that you were starting to freak out.

“Hello?” Your voice was cracking, and Mickey couldn’t help but groan. He loved hearing you so helpless. “Is there anyone out there?” He could see that you were about to cry, Mickey knew he was fucked in the head, he was since a child but hearing you cry? Fuck, that making him incredibly hard. “Is my boyfriend alright?” Mickey groaned, you were worried about him? Fuck, he started palming himself through his trousers. “Please, don’t hurt him.” Tears were running down your cheeks and Mickey got his cock out and he started stroking it, while he could hear you cry, his strokes got quicker. “Please.” Mickey groaned, and his strokes got quicker. “Please, I’ll do anything.” He started massaging his balls and with the way you were begging? Mickey was going to cum anytime now. “Please.” Mickey came, hard. He got all of his trousers dirty, but it didn't matter.

Mickey didn't talk to you, he only gave you food. It has been days, you were going insane and every time you cried, he was jerking off. He decided to taunt you and got something he hasn’t used in years, the Ghostface voice modulator.

“Good morning, bunny.” The voice boomed across the bedroom and you were scared.

“Who are you?” You sounded almost happy to have a human interaction and Mickey could see how much you craved for it. “Are you going to kill me?” Tears started running down your face, you were so scared. “Where is Mickey?” Seeing how much you were worried about him, Mickey was enjoying every second of it.

“I could never kill you, if you must know someone wanted to kill you, I simply got in the way. This is for your protection.” You started yelling and crying so Mickey stopped talking, and you fell asleep after doing it for hours.

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

It has been a whole month, Mickey could see it was getting to you, your mental state was very fragile and he knew this. So now it was time to show himself to you, next part of the plan. Mickey was sure Stockholm Syndrome would make you so malleable, perfect to be his perfect little doll. You were asleep when Mickey opened the door, he watched you for a few minutes, you looked so peaceful.

“Sweetheart, wake up.” He shook you, and you woke up. As soon as you saw Mickey, you started kissing him. 

“Oh my God, are you okay? Mickey, I thought they killed you.” Mickey had a couple of fake bruises on his face, but he thought of something different now.

“How could they kill me when it’s my house, bunny?” He used the voice modulator and you just looked at him, but it was curious, you didn't stop touching Mickey.

“It was you?” You whispered, but your hands were still on Mickey and he was smirking at you.

“Of course, I couldn’t let them kill you, bunny.” Mickey started touching your face and you leaned into his touch.

“You love me?” You whispered, he could see the wheels turning in your head.

“Of course, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” After those words were uttered, you jumped on Mickey.

You started removing his shirt, you were wearing a silk nightgown and nothing underneath. Mickey started kissing you, it was all teeth and passion, he removed your nightgown and you removed his cock from his trousers. 

“I need this, daddy.” You stradled him and aligned his cock at your entrance, Mickey couldn’t believe any of this. It was as if you were possessed.

Mickey put your nipple in his mouth, you were bouncing on his cock, he could feel how wet you were. 

“Keep bouncing on my cock, bunny.” The two of you were on the floor, there was no time to get into bed. You were moaning and bouncing on his big and thick cock, your pussy felt like heaven for Mickey, he was never letting you go now.

“Fuck, daddy.” You screamed, and he could tell you were going to cum.

“Oh, I can tell you’re going to cum bunny. Come on, cum all over my cock little bunny.” He bit your left breast making you moan and then you pulled his hair and Mickey could feel you cumming around his cock.

You were exhausted, you put your head on his shoulder and Mickey started cumming inside you and you moaned. This was perfect, Mickey picked you up and put you on the bed. You started whining and he laid with you, and you laid on top of Mickey.

“I love you, never leave me.” After this, you fell asleep. Mickey smiled, this was way better than he ever imagined.

"Don't worry, bunny. You're mine now." He kissed your forehead and fell asleep as well.

[gofancyninjaworld]

No one is born knowing how to communicate

A: And that's okay...

Dr Kuseno made it look so easy. He just swanned into Saitama's apartment, proferred him a gift of beef and the hero's hostility melted away.

Fubuki felt positively foolish, and yet encouraged.

Since then, however, she's found that the only thing meat bribes pull in are dogs. Literal dogs:

And even dogs need more than meat to be loyal.

What gives? Well, it's obvious that Fubuki mistook Dr Kuseno's gift for a bribe: more on that later. Probably. And yeah, it's funny, but it's more interesting than that.

Learning how to communicate is complex. There are a ludicrous number of unspoken conventions and rules in every human society, so much so that we don't fully learn how to smile socially until we're in our forties. Dr Kuseno carefully judged his gift: he had a legitimate reason to offer Saitama a gift in the first place, out of gratitude for Saitama going out of his way to mentor Genos. Then he chose a gift Saitama would be sure to appreciate and presented it at a time when Saitama would be thinking about dinner. The worst that could have happened is that Saitama took the gift but insisted on the doctor going home (and taking Genos with him) -- it would still have left the desired positive impression. And things went really well. Kuseno made it look effortless.

Fubuki is only in her early twenties and her experience to date has been far from typical. She's learned that either she can intimidate people or she can flatter them into doing what she wants. With Saitama (and later Bang, Bomb, and Kuseno), she has to learn how to talk to more powerful people whom she cannot overpower, over whom she has no leverage, and who are unimpressed by her looks, simpering, or flattery.

Fortunately, Fubuki is nothing if not astute. She's worked out that she needs to develop complementary skills if she's to make herself useful to the S-Class heroes she wants to hang with. How to talk to them to get the help and cooperation she desires? Ah, that's a work in progress.

B: ...Unless it's not

Let's move onto another miscommunication.

Something that I hadn't before was that, unlike the webcomic version where Saitama only thinks to himself that Genos seems depressed, in the manga, Saitama out and out asks him if this is the case. He wants to know.

It mirrors King asking Saitama that very same question and getting Saitama to open up and be vulnerable for the first time (ever, in any version of the story). So it is very appropriate to see Saitama trying to do the same for Genos, particularly as he is openly fond of the guy.

However, it goes wrong. Saitama feels himself under pressure to say something wise to make it better. So he puts on his best 'confident' face and inadvertently makes everything much worse. Oh dear. What makes this particularly painful in the manga is that Saitama is much more invested in trying to reach Genos, and it's made Genos think that Saitama saying that he doesn't see what he's doing must mean that earlier times when he's praised him must have been just Saitama being nice. For sure, Genos could have pushed back and made Saitama clarify what he meant, but he's even worse at communicating: and Saitama's glib remark about being bright struck him square in the insecurities.

I'm going to come to something that I only realised once I started typing this up. Even though I've pointed out their abilities to communicate, neither King nor Kuseno have the perfect words to say. Kuseno started out by first committing a faux pas in bringing his great big outside boots into Saitama's flat, then nearly boring Saitama to death with a long-winded explanation. King started out by trying to guess what was bothering Saitama. Both, however, did the most important thing about effective communication: they picked up on their going wrong and changed tack.

It's not about saying the right thing: it's about responding to the person you're talking to.

The thing that King did that Saitama was trying to do for Genos was to ask Saitama open questions, and shut up in the interim, letting Saitama talk to fill in the silence. He'd only speak to ask more open questions when Saitama ran out of things to say, and through that, gently started to challenge Saitama's thinking.

But doing so means being comfortable with several seconds of silence. And that is excruciating. It is almost irresistible to jump in and say something, anything. And it would have been a longish wait, for Genos to slowly sit down and decide to start speaking, which might well have started being about something only tangentially related to his worry. King did that for Saitama: Saitama started out talking about what was bothering him on the surface -- being too strong -- before eventually coming to what was really bothering him, feeling lonely and profoundly isolated from everyone around him. Saitama does not yet know how to wait a person out.

It's a problem in this case because it's introduced a big barrier between those two, not an insurmountable one for sure, but one that could easily compound later.

Ah well, no one is born a communicator. We just have to wait and see if they work out a way to open up and be honest with each other. So it goes! There's more ways to introduce conflicts than to have a monster trample Tokyo, after all!

And so help me, the struggle to learn how to communicate is 1000% worthwhile.

[gyuuberryy]

break the ice

pairing: tsundere!sunghoon x reader

summary: sunghoon shows that he dislikes your presence most of the time, but secretly he really appreciates your kind gestures. maybe he should’ve reciprocated it instead of pushing you away completely, because the aftermath was not pretty.

genre: tsundere and sunshine trope

warnings: lots of angst, fluff, mean!sunghoon, yelling, crying, toxic family relationship, slight mention of violence and divorce, very very very little swearing, lowercase intended

note: my first enhypen fic!!!!! i’m so excited to share this with you guys. this went a bit different than the prompt i made the poll on but it’s basically the same thing. enjoy! (also i might sound desperate but PLEASE interact with me i really need more friends here AHAHAhhhh)

word count: 3k ish

If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

a hand slammed on top of the wooden table where sunghoon’s head rested atop his arms. he slowly looked up, already knowing who it would be since you were the only one who ever approached him. 

“hi hoonie!”, you beamed at him in excitement. your nickname for him made his eyebrows furrow slightly, but he didn’t let his annoyance completely show on his stoic face.

“it’s early morning, why are you so happy?”, he grumbled.

you completely ignored his unenthusiastic response and placed a brown disposable box in front of him.

“i made some simple fried rice, i was running a bit late today.” you smiled and slid the box towards him when he didn’t react, “i hope you don’t mind!” 

when he realised that you weren’t going to move if he didn’t take the box, he sighed and stuffed it inside his schoolbag. your smile widened at his gesture but immediately fell when you looked at your watch.

“oh no i’m running late for my next class.” you waved at him, “i’ll see you at lunch!” 

sunghoon’s eyes followed your figure as you pushed past the people crowding at the entrance of the classroom and dashed off. his eyes glazed over in thought as he contemplated about why you even put up with him everyday, afterall you were a really jolly person who’s loved by everyone. and he, he was just loner with no emotions everso.

you both had met each other at the beginning of high school. you had approached him when you found him sitting alone at lunch on the first day. you mistook it for him being lonely but he pushed himself away from everyone on purpose. since then you’ve always been around him, constantly playing the part of a friend he didn’t ask for but secretly appreciated. he still remembers how upset you were when you found out he started skipping lunch in senior year, so you started making lunch for him everyday.

he sighed once again when his phone’s screen lit up with your text message. 

y/n:

hiii

i’m so sorry i won’t be able to visit you during lunch today TT

i have the club meeting for robotics

enjoy your lunch&lt;333

and don’t forget to recycle your lunchbox!!

Read:11:20AM

his lips turned up slightly at the cheery tone of your text, brightening his mood a bit.

the soles of his worn out shoes crunched on the fallen leaves as sunghoon sluggishly walked on the pavement. the cool january breeze blew gently, leaving a trail of goosebumps on his skin. he looked above him and watched as the sun sunk into the sky, lighting up into flames of orange and yellow which set the wispy clouds ablaze. he was broken out of his peaceful gazing by the shouts of his name. he paid no heed to it and continued walking towards the bus stop. stiffening when a hand grabbed his arm, he turned his head.

“hoon did you not hear me?”, you gasped out, panting for breath. falling into step with him you giggled, “i need to start running, i get tired so easily.”

sunghoon gave no reaction and continued to walk in silence. you noticed that he hadn’t made any attempt of moving your hand away from his arm and cheered mentally at the progress. observing his features, you frowned in worry becauset his eyes had dark circles under them and his lips looked really chapped. 

“did you not sleep well last night?” you jogged up in front of him and grabbed his face, “gosh your eyes are swollen.” 

sunghoon’s cheeks slowly turned a light shade of pink at the gentle way you were holding his face. he immediately pushed your hands away and resumed his walking, slightly increasing his pace so that you would not see him blushing. you eventually caught up with him and handed him a beige coloured lip balm stick.

“use this for your lips. i swear they’ll become smooth and soft overnight, just like they were!” you attempted to make a serious face but it looked more funny, “and drink lots of water, this is a sign that you’re dehydrated.”

sunghoon watched you carefully as you babbled on about some home remedy to get rid of dark circles, the ever present blank expression etched onto his face. he felt something bubble up inside of him that happened every time at the fact that you noticed even the slightest change that he went through. he felt cared for.

“thank you”, he spoke out softly.

you stopped in the middle of your sentence and your eyes widened at his words. this was probably the first time he ever said the words ‘thank you’ to you. you felt like you had achieved some sort of big accomplishment and your face immediately broke out into a wide smile.

this feeling lasted like a warm blanket over you both the entire day.

you had to miss out lunch once again the next week due to another robotics club meeting, which you were the vice president of. you had a free period currently so you decided to look for sunghoon since he was in the same class. after you found him missing from the classroom, you decided to go look for him at the benches he usually has his lunch at. maybe he decided to stretch it a bit longer?

you stopped on your way at a vending machine and got him his favourite cold coffee. smiling to yourself, you resumed walking. the school dance was coming up soon and you really wanted to attend it with sunghoon. so, you were going to do everything possible to get him to like you enough to be your date. and recently he had been slightly reciprocating your advances.

your face lit up when you found sunghoon right where you thought he would be. you were just about to call his name but stopped when you saw him holding the bento box you had given him today. you decided to watch secretly to see his reaction after eating the food cooked by you. he had never really given you any feedback about it, only taking the lunchboxes from you with a small huff.

your smile dropped when you saw him walk towards a dustbin and roughly throw the box in it. was the food not good? are you not hungry?

“do you do this every day?”

it looks like you voiced this thought out because sunghoon turned around and looked at you like a deer caught in headlights. this was probably the most noticeable expression you had ever seen on his usually blank face.

“are you okay? your eyes look really red.”

sunghoon remained quiet and just looked blankly at you. why did you still care about him when you clearly caught him throwing your food away. why were you the only one who was nice to him? he was trying really hard to control himself from lashing out on you but he couldn’t help it when you reached out to grab his face.

“will you stop this”, he yelled out in frustration.

“calm down hoonie-”

“stop it, just stop it!” he spat out in anger, “my name is sunghoon.”

just when you were about to open your mouth to say something, he cut you off once again.

“i’m so sick of everyone and everything. sick of you.”

a look of hurt momentarily flashed across your face as he pushed your hand away, but you immediately replaced it with a look of concern.

“what's wrong sunghoon? you never behave like this.”

“what’s wrong is that you won’t leave me alone.” he threw his arms in the air, “you’ve been constantly glued to me like a leech and i’m so damn sick of you.” 

you felt as if your heart was being run over by a bulldozer at his exclamations. you tried really hard not to cry in front of him but you were sure he had noticed your glossed over eyes. 

“you don’t mean that-”

“yes i do”, he gritted out. “and yes, i throw your food away everyday. i don’t want your meaningless pity.”

he watched as streams of tears rolled down your cheeks. 

he watched as the girl he cared for cried silently in front of him.

you bit your lip to prevent an ugly sob from bursting out, “i’ll leave you alone then, if that’s what you think about my feelings for you.” 

looking down at your shoes you walked towards the dustbin and chucked the bottle of cold coffee you had bought for him inside it. “might as well throw this away since you don’t want my pity do you.”

tears blurred your vision as you looked at sunghoon one last time and walked away, muttering about how it was a good thing you didn’t ask him out to the dance.

but this did not go unheard by him. 

once you were gone, he dropped to the hard floor on his knees and covered his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater as he sobbed. he had done it once again. he pushed away one of the few people who truly cared about him.

his tears dropped to the floor, creating wet patches. and his heart felt like it was being ripped apart.

once again.

today was a very happy day for sunghoon. he had finally gotten rid of what was troubling him the most. 

now he had finally decided to apologise and make it up to you. 

the past few days had been torture for him. he deeply regretted acting out like that the other day. he felt like he was going crazy without your presence and whenever he saw you around school, you turned the other way and avoided him, making him feel even worse. he finally understood your importance. and maybe even about his feelings for you.

people looked at him in shock as he weaved through the crowd at the corridors with a bright smile on his face. the park sunghoon, who was always depressed was smiling today? this was shocking for sunghoon himself, but he couldn’t stop imagining what your reaction would be when he would ask you out to the dance.

he walked into the class where your first period took place and found you looking out the window with your chin on your fist. you were silently gazing outside, lost in your thoughts while your friends were excitedly talking about the dance. 

their chatter immediately died down to whispers upon sunghoon’s arrival. his figure loomed over you, blocking the sunlight, but you made no effort to look up. he cleared his throat awkwardly when you remained unmoving from your position.

“what?”, you grumbled out.

sunghoon felt something pull at his heart when he saw you turn around. he noticed how puffy your eyes were and how your face had red irritated scratches from constantly rubbing it. a wave of guilt washed over him as he realised that he was probably the cause for it.

“hi”, he spoke out meekly.

you were surprised to find him standing in front of you because you did not expect him to talk let alone even approach after what he did last week. you were even more surprised at the fact that he had a shy expression on his face. he did not look like the cold boy he usually was.

you scowled, “what do you want sunghoon?”

he flinched at the lack of your use of his nickname and your cold tone. your usually bright and cheery persona took a complete turn today. it wasn’t your fault though, he expected this reaction after what he did to you the other day.

a perplexed look overtook your features as you watched him place a glittery, yellow, heart shaped box in front of you. this emanated giggles from your friends, making sunghoon rub the back of his neck nervously.

“i’m really sorry for the other day.” he gulped, “i baked some cookies for you. i don’t know if they’re nice since it was my first time so..” he trailed off at the blank look you had on your face. 

“you really remind me of the colour yellow so i-”

“sunghoon please stop.” you sighed, “you told me i was clingy so i stopped approaching you.”

“i didn’t-”

“i really don’t understand why you’re doing this now”, you cut him off. “just go away.” with that, you turned back to the window.

sunghoon was just about to reply when the ringing of the bell interrupted him. he panicked as everyone moved around to settle in their seats. he had no choice but to leave now. 

with a heavy heart, he walked out of the class

you were filling your bottle at the water cooler when someone tapped your shoulder. you were kind of hoping it was sunghoon, but when you turned around you were met with jake. he was the president of the robotics club you were a part of.

“hi y/n”, he gave you a toothy grin.

you smiled back, “hey jake! what's up?”

your eyes widened when he grabbed your hand and placed a big bar of chocolate. 

“i really like you and want to take you to the dance.” his grin widened, “will you go with me?” 

before you could comprehend what was happening a voice laced with poison spoke up behind you.

“no she won’t.”

the voice belonged to sunghoon who grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you away from jake. you shook his grip off of you when he stopped at the benches where you would meet up with him at lunch.

“what the hell sunghoon? why did you bring me here?”

he didn’t respond and only stared at you with a furious glint in his eye. his face was twisted up into an angry expression as he questioned you.

“were you going to go with him?”

you scoffed in disbelief, “why do you even care? aren’t you sick of me?” 

sunghoon’s face fell at your words that repeated what he said to you the other day. he remained silent and just stared at your face. you closed your eyes and shook your head.

“just stay out of my business if you don’t care about me”

you had just turned around to walk away when a pair of hands snaked around your waist and pulled you back into a warm chest.

“i’m sorry, please stay”, sunghoon’s voice came out muffled as his face was buried in your shoulder. 

you were sure that your heart was going to explode any moment now from the intimate position you both were in. sunghoon had barely ever even held your hand and now he was back hugging you. you couldn’t stop yourself from blushing like a beet.

“w-what are you doing?”

sunghoon panicked and immediately removed his hands from you, assuming that he was making you uncomfortable. you frowned at the loss of contact and turned around.

“sunghoon, you’re really confusing me.”

he froze for a few moments then took a deep breath and began his explanation.

“that day..” he looked you in the eyes, “i didn’t mean anything i said.”

you looked at him intently, urging him to continue.

“you know how my parents got divorced last year right?”

you nodded. his mom was really toxic and controlling and used to emotionally abuse sunghoon’s dad. she was an alcoholic and sometimes lost control of herself leading to her showcasing violent behaviour. with the support of their friends and family, sunghoon’s dad had finally gained enough courage to divorce her.

“yeah so my mom has been fighting for custody of my little sister.” his voice cracked, “and at that time things looked good for her.”

he sniffed and looked down at his feet, “neither my sister nor did we want her to live with my mom. she would’ve ruined her life as well.”

“i took my anger out on you instead and i feel really horrible about it. you’ve been nothing but kind to me since day one, even after how coldly i treated you.”

his eyes welled up with tears and turned red as he tried to stop himself from crying. he looked so broken and hurt right now, and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. and so you did.

wrapping your arms around his torso you tried to calm him down by rubbing his back. he slowly reciprocated your gesture

you spoke softly, “i’m so sorry you had to go through this hoon. you and your family deserve none of this”

he sighed in relief at your reuse of his nickname and tightened his grip around you. your words were simple, but comforted him like no other.

“it’s okay, everything is fine now. my dad won the case and i finally feel relieved for once.”

you pulled back from him at the revelation and smiled in glee.

“really? that’s amazing, i’m so happy for you!”

you were back to your normal, jolly personality which sent a surge of joy through sunghoon, making him give you a full smile. you gasped in surprise.

“oh my god, your smile is so pretty!”

sunghoon’s cheeks turned rosy at your compliment and shyly buried his face in the crook of your neck, making you giggle. who knew a boy who behaved so coldly was such a softie.

“i never threw out your food by the way, except for that day because i had no appetite”, he stated guiltily. “you are an amazing cook.”

“thank you sunghoon, but”, you paused. “i don’t think we can be friends.”

sunghoon pulled away from you in alarm. did he mess things up that badly?

“not after those amazing cookies you gave me.” you pecked his cheek softly, “you have to promise to be mine.”

sunghoon chuckled in relief, “you really got me there.” 

“i promise to be yours, love.”

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[i-know-you-know-we-know-lee-know]

Skz maknae line react to being called good boy

Sorry it took to long for me to get the second part out

Writers block is a bitch😭

Warnings: mildly suggestive fluff, cursing, mentions of food, i love felix, fuck commas (i suck at grammar plz forgive me)

Han

Confused

Absolutely baffled

Questioning life

Literally malfunctioning

Scene~

The two of you were lying in bed ready to fall asleep.

There was only one problem

You were extremely cold

Han, who was out in the hallway closet getting you blankets, was not cold

You would never understand how he could never be cold when you were literally becoming an iceblock

When Han came back from the closet holding three more blankets you held out your arms and he places them in your lap where you set to work making a nest out of them

"good boy"

You say randomly, still wrapping blankets around you

Han, who had been walking around the foot of your bed, tripped on one of the legs and almost fell flat on his face

You look up, startled, only to see Han's red face looking back at you

"baby~ you cant just say things like that out of the blue"

He whined, crawling over to your side of the bed and laying facedown next to you

You laughed, ruffling his hair and cuddling into your blanket cocoon

"if i knew you would react like this i would have said it to you a lot sooner"

You giggle as he burys his face in the sheets in embarrassment

Only when he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest did you realise he may have liked it a little more than you had realised

Uhm

That ones up for interpretation i guess

🥴

Felix

😭

Poor boy doesn't know how to react

You were making brownies with Felix, a tradition you had started when you first started dating.

Felix.exe has stopped working

Absolutely confused

You both knew the recipe by heart so there was no need to ask each other what to do

"Felix can you get me the sugar? It should be in the middle shelf on the left"

You call to your boyfriend, who opens the cabinet and pulls the container of sugar out and hands it to you.

"good boy"

You say, placing the sugar down on the counter

Felix looks down at you and you watch as his expressions change from surprise, confusion, embarrassment, and back to confused embarrassment in a matter of seconds

"i- what? What did you say? Don't say that-"

You break down laughing on the floor as your boyfriend splutters out excuses and his face turns progressively more red

He too, crouches down on the floor next to you and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head as to what this means

"i dont know how to feel"

He burst out, and you start laughing again because who knew felix would look so cute embarrassed?

AJSJSJSB

I love him so much it hurts sometimessjdkdjsj

HES SO CUTE 😭

Seungmin

Boy does not give a fuck

Will literally look you in the eyes and say nothing

Then walk away

Like?

You had been sick the past few days and had been lying in bed basically doing nothing

Seungmin, being the supportive bf he was, had been tending to your every need for the past few days

"minnie can you get me a glass of water, my throat feels really dry"

You croak out, watching as he springs up to get you a glass of water from the kitchen

He soon returns with your beloved glass of water in hand and gives it to you

"good boy"

You say without thinking, as you take a sip of water

Seungmin just looked at you, blinked a few times and then turned on his heel and walked out of your bedroom

"wait no come back-"

You cough-laughed as you realised what you had just said to him

"minnie please~"

You whine, watching with satisfaction as his face turns slightly pink when he turns to face you

You pout and he sighs, coming back into your bedroom reluctantly

"the way you said that made me feel wierd"

You laugh again, taking another sip of your water

"its crazy i mean you think your in love with me or something"

He frowns at you, taking your empty glass from you

"ill go fill this back up again"

He mutters, red face still visible to you

Okay maybe he cares a little

Just a little

Jeongin

Flustered little boi

So confused though

In his head he's like

???

WhY mE?

You and your boyfriend were out on a grocery shopping trip because you had been running low on a few things.

"can you go and fet some eggs while i look at the chips?"

You say, placing your basket on the ground a d examining the massive wall of chip bags in front of you

"yeah ill be right back"

Your boyfriend responds, heading down the aisle to look for eggs

You, in the meantime keep looking at the massive selection infront of you, eventually picking out two bags

Soon your boyfriend comes back with eggs in hand and places them in the basket at your feet

"good boy"

You say, turning to show one of the chip bags to him

"do you think we should get this one instead of the normal one or-"

You stop, staring at his flustered expression with confusion

"are you okay? Did i do something?"

You ask, laughing at him slightly as he shakes his head

"it was nothing..."

You chuckle at his response, picking up your basket and smiling to yourself

"maybe i should say good boy more if it means i get to see you like this"

"... "

⌯' ▾ '⌯

ARG SO CUTE PATOOTIE

I suck at dialogue lol