#im having a real hard time with small talk right now

[awesomefroggy]

Them: Oh man! You left your job? What have you been up to?

What I want to say: being too tired to complete basic chores, can really only comfortably leave the house like twice a week, getting to pick one floor of my house to exist on for the whole day, am so chronically nauseous that two applesauce pouches and some cookies is an accomplishment some days, hopping between therapy and physical therapy and still trying to see irl friends, resetting joints and stretching muscles that hurt too much to do the physical therapy, feeling really guilty listening to all the stuff anyone else is accomplishing in a day, trying to distract myself with a million creative projects that I will inevitably get too tired to finish...

What I actually say: Oh! Y'know, taking some time to slow down, do housework, all that good stuff. I've started a couple of art projects, wanna see?

[luveline]

Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤

thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k

“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.” 

Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other. 

He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?” 

“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist. 

He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks. 

“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?” 

“Where’s Jack?” you ask. 

“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.” 

You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move. 

“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.” 

He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel. 

He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there. 

It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.” 

He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?” 

He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.” 

Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one. 

In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family. 

Today, right now, that’s crackers. 

“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!” 

“I’m back,” she agrees. 

“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.” 

“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising. 

Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.” 

He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.” 

“Thank you, Jackers,” she says. 

Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along. 

He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs. 

“I’m just changing!” 

“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?” 

You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin. 

“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?” 

She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him. 

“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack. 

“Yes please, daddy.” 

Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.  

“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on. 

“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.” 

Hotch rubs Sarah’s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you? 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?” 

“Yes, please,” Sarah says.

You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second. 

He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.” 

“Thanks, daddy.” 

You breathe in. 

Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes. 

“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly. 

Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too. 

“She did.” 

“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.” 

“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.

“She just loves you,” you say. 

“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.” 

You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks. 

You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck. 

He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect. 

Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy. 

“I think Jack confused her,” he says. 

“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.” 

Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair. 

He closes his eyes and feels your waist. 

“You don’t have to worry,” he says. 

“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.” 

“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper. 

“Big changes.” 

He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words. 

Your shoulders finally relax. 

[lowkeyremi]

Random haikyuu hcs bc im bored ft. mattsun, atsumu, iwa, tendou and kags

Matsukawa Issei definitely sits around looking at instagram posts with you, rating any and everyone.

"Hey stink, what do ya think about her?" He asks waiting for you to lift your head from your phone.

When you do, you're met with a picture of an elderly woman. "Bro... I am not rating somebody's grandma." You push his phone out of your face and he snorts out a laugh.

"I will, she's a ten in my book." A lazy smirk coats his lips and you smack him lightly.

"You're so annoying."

"You love it." He kisses your cheek.

Miya Atsumu will give you kisses to try and gain your attention. He's lonely without your eyes on him.

He goes for your neck this time, placing a small peck on it. When he realizes you haven't stopped looking at your textbook he tries again. Your faux blond boyfriend goes for a kiss on your jaw.

"Hm?" You finally respond.

"Look at me :((("

His pout turns upward when your cute fingers slowly close the big green textbook to give him your full attention.

"I'm looking."

"Good." His smile is so pretty. Sometimes it's hard to believe you're dating him.

Anytime you text Iwaizumi Hajime that you'll be joining him at the gym he'll use heavier weights to impress you.

"Wow Haji, are you sure that isn't heavy?" You ask watching him lift a sixty-five pound dumbbell in one hand. (idk how much guys like iwa usually lift in one hand so spare me) (i don't lift more than 25 lbs in my normal workouts 😭)

"Nah, these are what I usually use." And you find it cute that he thinks you don't notice the way his muscles strain when his arm pumps up and down and he tries to quiet his exhales.

"You don't have to impress me, baby. You're already impressive as is." He sighs in relief, dropping the dumbbell to the ground.

"I don't know who I thought I was fooling." He smiles at you.

Tendou Satori is always humming/singing a song you're thinking about.

"Tori! I was just thinking about that." He hears you gasp in shock and excitement. A cat-like smile expands on his face.

"Damn, I think we have couple telepathy." You'd never heard of that but it sound like Satori to make something like that up.

"Babe, I don't think that's a real thing."

"I made it up right now :D" How could you crush his spirit when he's so cute?

"Okay! Guess what I'm thinking!"

Last but not least, Kageyama Tobio sucks at card games because he's so easy to read.

He thinks he has the upper hand in Uno, but little does he know the mirror he's sitting in front of shows off his cards and you can see the wild card he has.

I mean, it was already obvious by the way he was smirking in a triumphant way. A proud huff escaping his lips.

So you decide to knock him down a few pegs and place your yellow skip down, his face immediately sours and he grunts.

"Uno!" You call out.

"Well good luck I'm sure you don't-"

You place down a draw four and he stops talking to look you dead in your face, "Uno out!" You giggle when he throws the cards down.

"Tch. I hate card games." He says getting up.

"Well maybe, keep your facial expressions in check, baby. You're easy to read like a kid's book." (hehe see what i did there? tendou dub line :3)

[celestialglow24]

••• Sharing the Bed•••

Frank Castle x AFAB Reader

Reader is wondering how things will be with Frank now after asking him to be her fake boyfriend at her sister’s wedding.

3.9k words

Inspired by the faking dating prompts from @thelonelyempath https://www.tumblr.com/thelonelyempath/705043295893618688/fake-dating-prompts?source=share

Using prompt #25 “I kinda liked sharing the bed with you”

I’ve had such a writing bug lately and im taking advantage of it while i’ve got it! Enjoy xxx

You were nervous to see him again.

It had been a couple weeks since you’d convinced Frank to be your fake boyfriend for your sister’s wedding.

You had panicked when your mom called you at work, saying you had pushed it off long enough and she needed an answer right now if you were bringing a plus one or not.

You almost said no, but after she made a snide comment about already knowing the answer—she was just asking as a courtesy to your sister—you cracked and told her you’d been seeing someone for months now.

When she asked who, your eyes had landed on one of the few patrons left at the bar that night.

Frank Castle.

Surprisingly he agreed to go. It was probably the desperation in your voice and the pleading of your eyes—you didn’t have time to think about how pathetic you felt—but you were thankful nonetheless.

It’s been 14 days since you got back and you haven’t seen him since. Not that you were counting the days or anything.

No texts.

No phone calls.

Just silence.

Normally you wouldn’t think much of it. Even though Frank had become a regular at the bar and restaurant you worked at, he’d disappear for days and weeks at a time.

You’d try and make small talk when he came back. Hoping to get any kind of inclination as to what Frank Castle got up to in his spare time.

He was still such a mystery to you. A very attractive mystery at that. One that you were determined to figure out.

However, as much as you tried, you never got the answer you were searching for.

It was always “business” or “nothing you’d find interesting, sweetheart”.

You never really gave it much thought when he offered those responses, you just accepted that Frank was not an open book. He was a locked book. One kept on the highest shelf that you’d probably never be able to reach.

And yet despite knowing all this you couldn’t help but wonder if your time away together had anything to do with his sudden absence.

You worried things would get awkward. Especially after having to share a bed together. He offered to sleep on the floor but you shot that down quick.

Not only would you feel enormously guilty having him sleep on the hardwood floor—he complained about his back a lot—but you were worried someone might walk in and your fake dating charade would unravel.

The silent crush you’d been harboring had only gotten louder after several days with Frank. Having to hold hands, talk sweetly to each other and even slow dance at the wedding had your mind all in a haze.

What was real and what wasn’t?

Did he feel anything? Or was he just a really good actor?

It was driving you crazy.

One thing was for certain, your family adored him. Especially your equally intimidating, hard-to-please father.

In fact, your dad liked him so much he invited him to go hunting in a few months.

It had taken years before he even extended an invite like that to your sister’s now husband.

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing when you watched the way his eyes had widened and mouth parted when Frank agreed to go—your sister offering a reassuring pat to his arm.

You figured it had something to do with the fact they were both veterans. Your dad took an instant liking to anyone who could relate to the struggle and strength it took to serve in the military.

And your mother. The way she fawned over everything Frank said and did. His manners, how he consistently answered with “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am”.

She just about fell over when she came into the kitchen one morning to find he had managed to fix that pesky dishwasher that had been giving her trouble for months.

You smiled at the memory, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Another thought had overshadowed it. One that caused a sudden pit to form in your stomach. How were you going to break the news to your family that things with Frank weren’t working out?

The plan was to give it a few weeks and then call to let them know you’d decided to take some time apart. You were both realizing you needed different things, but you would remain friends.

It sounded reasonable, but now? You didn’t think you could handle their disappointment.

You’d never seen them so proud of you. So happy for you. Pleasing your parents always felt like an impossible task. The closer you got there was always some dip in the road that caused that approval to move further and further away.

You finally bring someone home that they approved of only to rip the hope away from them. You were sure they’d find some way to blame it all on you.

You were starting to remember what it felt like when you told them you wouldn’t be going to college.

It didn’t matter that you were excellent at your job, managing both the bar and the restaurant on your own. It didn’t matter that you were able to make more than enough money to support yourself. And it certainly didn’t matter that you had helped exceed the profit goals of each quarter since you started.

It didn’t matter that you had been busting your ass to save back money to buy the place for yourself when the owner retired soon.

It only mattered that you didn’t have a “career” or a family to call your own.

Frank had picked up on the tension pretty early on. He did his best to talk you up. You found it sweet. Endearing even.

One night, while the two of you were dancing to some slow, sappy song your sister picked out, Frank called you out on your off demeanor.

You were surprised he noticed, you thought you had mastered the art of appearing fine when deep down you really weren’t.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he spoke lowly in your ear. One of his hands rested on the small of your back while the other held your hand close to his chest. His thumb ran back and forth along your hand and you tried to ignore the swarm of butterflies wreaking havoc on your stomach.

“I’m wondering how Uncle Steven has managed to go this long without throwing up. I thought for sure the cupid shuffle would’ve done it.”

Frank turned to look in the direction you were staring. Your Uncle Steven was somehow still performing the steps to the dance from 3 songs ago. Frank lightly chuckled as he watched Steven spill some of his beer on the couple next to him.

Though he couldn’t deny he was also wondering how the old man hadn’t crashed yet, he knew that’s not what you were really thinking about.

You were trying to deflect.

He was starting to learn just how stubborn you could be, but unlucky for you, Frank wasn’t gonna let you off the hook that easily.

“Nah that ain’t it.” he shook his head. “I can tell there’s a lot more going on behind those eyes.”

You were slightly relieved the lights were dim in the reception so he couldn’t see the deep blush heating up your face. You weren’t good at making eye contact with people you were crushing on.

“I think you’re imagining things.” you replied avoiding his gaze. “I’m just tired, I think this week is finally catching up to me.”

“Hm.” Frank hummed.

“What?”

“I think we’re about to have our first fight.”

You scoffed, ”Oh yeah? and what’s this ‘first fight’ gonna be about?”

“How you’re lying to your boyfriend.” he replied, speaking low into your ear again. It shouldn’t have caused the hairs on your neck to stand up but it certainly did.

“Look, you listen to assholes mope and complain all day long about their sad fucked up lives. I think it’s only fair to return the favor.” he shrugged. “So tonight i’ll do your job and you can let it all out right now. Minus the crude comments and shitty tips.”

You were about to laugh and lightly shove Frank for messing with you, but the look on his face made you pause.

He was being serious.

“Is it your folks?” he asked. “I saw your face when your dad gave that speech. That smile you were forcin’, it didn’t reach your eyes.”

You bit your lip and lowered your stare to the dress shirt he was wearing, playing nervously with one of the buttons to avoid looking up at him.

“That obvious huh?” you laughed sadly.

Frank felt bad as he watched the hurt wash over your features. He knew all too well the overwhelming pressure to please one’s family. He grew up with an overbearing father who never thought he’d amount to anything.

He knew how much that disappointment could eat you alive.

“It’s just, no matter what I do. I know my dad will never speak about me the way he does my sister. She’s an ivy league graduate who just got into med school. She’s married now, moving to a new city and probably going to be popping out kids before the end of next year. and me? In his eyes I'm just a bartender in a small town with no ambitious goal in sight.”

Frank nodded in understanding. He could see from the outside how the comparison could make you feel that way.

“Are you happy?”

You thought about it for a second. Even though the job had its ups and downs—managing a restaurant and a busy bar was no easy feat—you could honestly say you enjoyed what you did.

You got to know a lot of the locals well and it always made you feel good to know that you’d helped make their day or night a little better.

You loved the house you recently bought. It was a bit of a fixer upper but it was yours.

You loved how independent you were. How you could come home after a long day and you didn’t have to cook for a litter of kids.

It was just your dog, cat and you.

“Honestly? Yeah, I think I am.”

“Then fuck em.” he shrugged.

“Frank I-”

“Nah, nah.” he cut you off. “I know that’s your family but that don’t mean they’re always right. If you like what you do and you’re happy then who gives a shit what anyone else thinks.”

You processed Frank’s words and while you knew he was probably right, it didn’t mean it was easy to just tune out your parents’ criticism.

Frank seemed to know what you weren’t saying out loud because he followed it up with something that made your heart swell.

“All i’m saying is if they can look at you and what you’re doing and feel anything but proud there’s something wrong with ‘em. Not you.”

You could’ve kissed him right there but the song had ended and couples were clearing the dance floor.

Instead you walked back to the table with Frank, your arm looped through his.

You couldn’t help but think about how this man was screwing with your heart and your head and he didn’t even know it.

That much was still true all these days later. At this point you were dying for him to show up again.

Even if he didn’t talk to you, you’d at least know he wasn’t avoiding this whole place because of you.

The night was winding down, the 2 am crowd had begun to disperse and your eyes were fighting hard to stay awake. You’d chosen to work a double today, one of the other bartenders had a family emergency.

In your 20s you could work shifts like this and bounce right back the next day but now? In your 30s you were lucky if you managed to wake up without an achy back and sore feet.

“Phil, I'm gonna run the last of the trash out and then I'm heading home. I left the keys to lock up in the front drawer.” you shouted to the line cook in the back.

You could see him mopping up the kitchen floor so you knew he wouldn’t be too far behind you.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with ya this time?” he shouted back, “I’d hate for a creepy critter to make you run like you’d seen a ghost again.”

You rolled your eyes as Phil roared with laughter. Referencing the one time a little group of racoons had taken up residence inside the restaurant dumpster and sent you running like Freddy Krueger himself was chasing you.

“I think i’ll manage this time Phil, thanks for looking out.” you replied playfully.

You picked up the large trash bags and backed into the front door to head out. It was really inconvenient but they recently had moved the trash compactor across the street.

Not only was it annoying during the day when the streets were busy but it was extra spooky at night.

Once you were out of the door you turned around only to gasp and drop the trash bags you were holding.

“Jesus, Frank.” you cried, “What the hell were you trying to do, give me a fucking heart attack?”

You were too distracted by the adrenaline coursing through your veins to realize the man you’d been waiting to see for the last two weeks was finally standing in front of you.

“My bad, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. I tried to go by your place and you weren’t there so I figured you might be here.”

You blew out a puff of hair and a couple pieces of your hair went flying.

“You were looking for me?”

“Yeah, sorry I know it’s late. I wanted to make sure you got this back. Somehow I think it got mixed up in my things.”

Frank pulled out a pink phone charger from his jacket pocket and extended it out to you.

You had a million of these things scattered around your house so you honestly hadn’t noticed it was missing. It was sweet of him to bring it back to you though.

“Oh Frank, you didn’t have to worry about that.” you replied, walking forward to retrieve it. “But thank you”.

You beamed a genuine smile at Frank while holding up the charger in your hand and he thought his heart had grown 2 sizes. Just like the Grinch his kids used to watch.

There was something about your smile that always stopped him in his tracks. He would never get tired of seeing it.

“Nah it’s nothin’.” he shrugged. “May I?”

He gestured toward the garbage bags sitting on the ground and bent over to pick them up.

“You don’t have to!” you tried to stop him, but subconsciously you knew it would be pointless.

Frank was always a gentleman and while he knew you would have no trouble carrying them on your own, he wouldn’t feel right not offering a hand.

“Can I atleast carry one of them?” you asked sweetly.

There was that damn smile again. How could he say no?

The two of you walked in silence for a bit, it wasn’t awkward but it was clear you were both trying to think of what to say next.

How do two people that recently spent a week pretending to be a couple go back to normal?

You decided to break the silence as the two of you walked back toward the bar.

“I, um, never got to properly thank you for helping with my family. I know it was probably a bit weird but it meant more to me than you could ever know. I think my parents would’ve had us get married that same night if it were up to them.” you laughed, playing nervously with your hands.

“Is that right?” Franked looked down at you with an amused expression.

“God, yes. I think you’re probably gonna be the only guy I bring home that they will ever like. I actually feel bad for the next guy that has to live up to the great Frank Castle.” you nudged him as you walked and he let out the most glorious laugh you’d ever heard.

You wanted to hear that more.

“Well if i’m the measuring stick for all the future men in your life then it’s your parents I feel sorry for.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, playfully swatting his shoulder, “What do you mean by ‘all the future men in your life’? You think I still got a revolving door of men to get through before I finally settle down?”

It was meant to be playful banter, but there was a look that settled in Frank’s eyes and the mood suddenly got a bit more serious.

“I sure hope not.”

You weren’t sure how to take his comment. Maybe you were over analyzing but there was a part of you that was hoping he said that because he wanted you.

Wishful thinking of course.

You cleared your throat to help ease the tension.

“So, you just get back from whatever mystery place you squandered off to?”

“Just taking care of some business, sweetheart.”

That famous phrase again. You simply nodded. Accepting once again that you would probably not get any further information than that.

“But you know it’s funny.” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “There I was, lying in bed in some run down roach motel off the highway, having a hell of time trying to fall asleep each night.

“It coulda been the state of the motel—that place was a real shitbox—but the more I laid there, the more I realized it felt like I was missing something.”

Frank started fidgeting a bit. Almost like he was nervous or something. It was strange. You didn't think a guy like him got nervous.

“I realized, I kinda liked sharing the bed with you.”

Your heart started hammering away in your chest. Did you hear him right? Frank Castle liked sharing a bed with you? So much so that it was keeping him up at night?

You had to be dreaming.

“Really?”

You tried to act nonchalant but the word came out all high and squeaky. You don’t think Frank noticed though.

“Yeah, believe it or not I’d gotten so used to having no covers at night, I just tossed the damn thing on the ground.”

You gasped and punched his shoulder slightly. “Hey, I warned you I would probably take all the blankets. You coulda pulled them right back.”

Frank laughed again.

“Nah, you were too cute wrapped up like a burrito. Besides, I was more worried if I tried you’d whack my head or kick my nuts. You sure do move around a lot in your sleep.”

You feigned hurt, placing a hand to your chest.

“And just why do you miss sharing a bed with me so much? It doesn't sound so pleasant based on what you’re saying.”

Frank looked off and smiled. “I don’t know.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you.

“Look, uh, I’m not really good at this. I’ve been out of the game for a long time so you’ll have to forgive me but-”

“Frank Castle.” you cut him off.

“Yeah?”

“Are you about to ask if you can sleep in my bed tonight?”

Frank’s eyebrows shot up and a panicked sort of look took residence on his face. “Shit, no I didn’t mean it like that. I was just-”

He stopped when he saw you throw your head back in laughter.

“What?” he asked, trying to fight off the smile that was beginning to form on his own face. Your laugh was just too damn contagious.

“I’m sorry,” you said between breaths,”You shoulda seen your face. I was just messing with you Frank.”

“Oh yeah?” he laughed, poking your side. “You think that shit was funny huh?”

Suddenly you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and over Frank’s shoulder. “I can be real fucking hilarious. How about I carry you home just like this?”

“Frank!” you screamed playfully, swatting at his back. “Put me down you asshole!”

“No, I think I like this view better.”

You continued to hit his back and laugh. You were just about to come back with your own smart comment when you heard a car pull up beside you.

“Is everything alright here?”

You turned to look, adjusting your hair so it was out of your face. It was an officer staring at you both with a confused expression.

You could’ve sworn you heard Frank growl a little bit.

“Uh we’re good officer!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

“She had a bit too much to drink tonight. Tried to drive home. Just makin sure she gets home safe. She’s a stubborn thing.” Frank spoke up, making sure to pat your ass for dramatic effect.

The officer seemed to buy this story.

“Well miss, you got a good man there. You should probably listen to him more often.” he replied before rolling up the window.

You gasped and Frank roared with laughter.

“Thanks officer!” he shouted as the man drove away.

You poked his side hard and he finally released you, setting you down in front of him. Your faces were real close together now, and the smiles you both had slowly fell.

There was a quiet moment before you quickly leaned in and kissed Frank. He seemed surprised at first but thankfully responded and pulled you in tighter.

His hands roamed your body while yours held his face.

You pulled away gently, and he rested his forehead on yours.

“You know, I thought you’d been avoiding me.” you said quietly.

“Yeah?” he replied, moving a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I know you disappear sometimes but I thought this time was gonna be different.”

Frank nodded, running his hands down your shoulders before grabbing both of your hands in his own.

“You know, I got a confession.” he said quietly, “I swiped that phone charger before we left.”

You leaned back and looked up at him.

“What?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “I know it’s stupid but I wanted an excuse to see you again. Like I said, it's been a while since I’ve done anything like this and I didn’t think I could just approach you in the bar like before.”

“It’s not stupid.” you smiled, squeezing his hands. “It’s sweet.”

“So i’m sweet now? Just a second ago I was a asshole.”

“Both can be true.” you shrugged.

He scoffed. “Come here.”

Frank pulled you into him and you wrapped your arms around his waist. He placed a kiss on your head and it suddenly felt like it did when you were with your parents.

It just felt natural.

“Let me take you out.” he said, pulling back and tilting your chin up at him. “On a real date.”

You bit your lip and smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Good.” he replied before kissing you again.

“Now let’s go before that cop comes back around and you gotta act drunk for him.”

You rolled your eyes, “Whatever you say, Frank. I gotta listen to you more right?”

“Attagirl.” he smiled, before putting his arm around your shoulder.

[mimisplayground]

If I can’t have you baby, no one else in this world can. ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

I hope everyone likes it! This is part two of my other Toji fic where he was jealoussssss~ I hope u all enjoy :3 (part one linked at da bottom)

Tags: Dacryphillia (brief), Rough sex, Mentions of Murder, Mean Toji, He talks abt marrying you during sex????? (not clickbait)(gone wrong)(gone sexual), Spanking (kinda brief too), JEALOUS TOJI!!!, very light bondage, HES SWEET BUT IN SUBTLE WAYS!!, Degrading, Overstimulation, Thigh Fucking (brief), Doggy Style, Mating Press

I couldve missed some tag sorryyyyyyy, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

——————

Toji hadn’t heard from you in a week. A whole week of no contact from you, and he could feel his eye twitch as he knocked on your door.

And he was even more angry when you opened the door with a bratty pout on your face. “What do you want Fushiguro?” You huffed out, frowning at him.

He had to resist the urge to lean forward to smother you entirely. He treats you real nice and you wanna call him by his last name? Like he didn’t have you screaming his first name only a week prior? “Wanna know why you’re ignoring me, baby.” He tries his luck with being sweet with you first, a disingenuous smile on his face.

He quickly regrets the sweet act when you roll your eyes in his face. “Made me block my other guy.” You muttered out, and Toji felt his hand fist up for a moment. “He was a good fuck,” you started off, stupid of you to do in Toji’s opinion “and you made me block him like you’re up here all that often anyways. Can’t keep me satisfied and got rid of the one who could.”

By the end of your sentence, Toji had reached the end of his patience. He leans forward, and his hand grips your shoulder for a moment. “Im gonna go, and I’m gonna bash that guys skull in. And when I’m done you’re gonna be on the bed, where I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name. Ok?” He was at a borderline whisper, and you felt yourself shuddering at the threat he spoke last time being reiterated.

You throw yourself to hug him when he goes to turn. The idea of some man dying just for getting his dick wet didn’t sit right with you. “Tojiiiii,” You whined out, looking at him as pitifully as you could. “I didnt mean it Toji, I was just trying to get you riled up.” You admitted bashfully (in a poor attempt to earn pity points from a man who doesn’t pity anything), ignoring how hot your face felt when you heard - and felt - his chuckle at the confession.

You’re led into your place, a hand gently cradling your back as you’re led to your room and you can’t help but think that your confession had subdued Toji’s anger, even momentarily.

So imagine your surprise when you find your face smushed into the bed, hands tied behind your back when a soft satin ribbon and your ass in the air. And the first time his hand landed on your ass it was shocking enough to make you jolt forward with a small squeal. The hits that came after still earning groans and grunts of pain from you.

Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was being soft on you, he always was. But he made a promise that you would forget your own name and he intended to hold true on that.

“Fucking whore” he huffed, another smack landing on your ass “bratty bitch, gotta be put back in your place.” His hands grip your hips and you squirm in anticipation.

His fingers find their way inside you first, working you open with so much precision you felt he was playing you like an instrument. Three fingers deep inside, and god did they hit the perfect spots each time. “You tryna get dick from someone else? I’m all you need baby.” He says, jealous vemon laced in every word.

“Just you Toji, ‘m sorry, didn’t mean it.” You whined, and you hear a cruel laugh as his fingers leave you. “Now I’m Toji? Not Fushiguro?” He questions in a mean tone even as his hands massage your back.

(He said it was to help with prep when he first did it. Your questioning leaving him a bit scrambled before he claimed it made the sex better. You had believed him at first, until you realized it was just a small act of care. You never called him on it, you enjoyed it even.)

“Begging isn’t gonna work on me this time, cute little whore.” Toji says with a mocking coo, pushing his pants down to pump his dick with his own fist a few times. And as he stares at your back, he can’t help but want to break his own promise and just fuck into you. Not that he actually would, but he was tempted.

He slips his dick between your thighs, thrusting lightly and kissing at your neck. “Talking about another guy in front of me, giving me a bitchy ass attitude,” he seems to be recounting his grievances with you, a hand reach to grip your waist when you try to grind down onto the dick between your thighs. “Don’t know who you belong to yet? That it? Maybe I should put a ring on your finger and make you understand.” He groans, listening to your pleads for him to just put it in already.

And when he finally complies it’s like bliss. His hand is gripping your wrists before he unties the ribbon holding them together. Your hands grip the sheets at either side of you, and you sigh happily as he kisses your poor red wrists. You turn your head, kissing him on his cheek.

Toji’s mind seems to blank for a moment before he’s pulling out and flipping you onto your back. And with your legs thrown over his shoulders as your bent almost in half, he fucks you into a mating press so brutal that your mind blanks.

“Gonna make you mine baby, put a ring on your finger. You’re never gonna get away from me.” He grunts and almost growls, watching your eyes roll back with tears streaming down your face. “Gonna keep you locked in, you love saying my last name so much, now you’re gonna share with me.” His thrusts were deep, and hard, and agonizingly perfect that you could help but violently twitch as an earth shattering orgasm runs through you.

He fucks you through it, and you feel an awful sense of deja-vu as you go hurtling toward your next one.

Toji grabs your left hand, and you stare at him in a stupid, fucked dumb look of curiosity and whined when he bit your ring finger hard. And you whined even more when he forced his own left ring finger into your mouth, telling you to bite hard. You comply and watch him fill with a sinful glee. “There you go baby, it’s our wedding rings.” He says with a soft grin, his brutal thrusts being an absolute opposite of the look.

With orgasm three coming quick, you’re almost relieved to feel his rhythm falter and stutter, and you scream into the room filled with sweat and sex as you feel another final brutal slam of his pelvis into yours, and you feel your insides fill up with his cum.

He pulls out, getting up and walking to the bathroom, and you sigh through closed and tired eyes as you feel him wipe you down with a warm damp cloth and few minutes later. A blanket is thrown over you both as he spoons you.

His thumb traces the bitemark he left on your finger, you completely pliant and stupid in his arms. You couldn’t seem to think of an answer when he looked at you with a devilish smile and innocently asked “so, what’s your name?”

*

The next morning, waking up to Toji cuddled up with you and a subtle rumbling snore coming from him had to be the best feeling in the world.

Your legs were jelly, and when Toji woke up and had finally pulled himself up, he brought you water and a small plate of fruits. You watch him get dressed with a pout. “Toji…where are you going so soon?”

He turns and the smile he had was an almost boyish expression. “I told you last night,” You felt your blood freeze for a moment as you stared at Toji, your legs unable to move.

“Im gonna go bash that guys skull in.” He left a small peck on your forehead and a promise that he would he back soon.

God you hope that other guy had a quick death, if nothing else.

—————

UH….SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG… LOTS OF THOUGHT PUT INTO THIS ONE!!

Requests open :3

[spearxwind]

I’m just curious but do you have examples of good dragon anatomy in media? It’s ok if not or you don’t wanna share I’m just curious.

In media? whew, really hard to say. Often in media dragons will either have spoon wings (even if the rest of the dragon is good, like in hotd) or be shrinkwrapped :[

Toothless from httyd got it PRETTYYYYY CLOSE, the big wings dont go all the way down to the base BUT the secondary wings he has actually finish that part of the base and fill in that gap, and the fins on the tail tip are just so swag because they add lift to the tail tip as well

Saphira from the Eragon movie actually had GENUINELY TURBOSWAG wings!!! Like these are genuinely damn near perfect for the time. They're missing the wing slots on the tips BUT WE'LL ALLOW IT. Especially when these are so hard to make and back then especially

They could genuinely have more base to them, she does have a mild case of spoon wings but they are MUCH more proportionate than like... most others lmao.

uhhh uhhhh. I'm... actually REALLY struggling to think of basically any other media with good wings LMAO... the wing industry is in shambles. Most of the media with dragons in it has spoon wings (or worse). I feel like I've talked about one thing or another with good (or decent) wing anatomy but I cannot for the life of me remember anything right now.

Soooo...... to make up for that here's some BAD bad dragon anatomy in media:

From "dragons a fantasy made real". 1. what the fuck. 2. ???? i just dont know what to say its got it all. Shrinkwrapping, small spoon wings, nonsensical attachment to the back, etc. I love this movie to death but watching it when im older and Know Things is a curse

Dragonheart. I have not seen this movie but What The Fuck is going on there. Attach those wings son!!!! Theyre just flopping around!!!

Every single monster hunter monster with wings is uh. Very questionable. None of them have the patagium either which is A Crime. As much as I love the franchise TO DEATH the wings is something that irks me constantly lskdhsdfklj

They did actually do rathalos better for monster hunter world though! but its still got a bit of spoon wings. Its better, but still not very good

Malefor from spyro <3 what the fuck <3 we forgive him because its a stylized came but he's flying on sheer willpower those wings are doing nothing for him. Nor for every other dragon in the franchise

And last but certainly not least:

Why. Just why. That's not a wing anymore.

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

I am doing things I AM DOING THINGS I AM!

Explanations for designs and some head canons below here :3

Infected - Asian-American Autistic ADHD aroace (😈) trans. Yknow Wybie from Coraline? Yea like that but like incredibly annoying. His voice sounds like it’s coming from a shitty mic all the time

Lampert (design by @lucid-daydreaming-art )- Autistic 🇸🇪 ja aroace (😈) funny lamp guy Robots-esque probably kinda talks like baymax honestly, I mean a bit different but yknow, the general idea

(I talk about these 2 enough it’s the others turns)

Poob - I think they are a dumb little critter. They run around and their arms flail in the wind like paper. When they try to clap is makes dog toy squeaking sounds. I don’t think they abide by the rules of physics which is why they are stupid looking ❤️ they have hammer space but it is only for weed related items. The curator of the forever weed brownie, if you will. I think they sound like X from bfb. Aroace (😈)

Pest - literally hates poob because they are small and annoying. Uhhh funky legs because I think he would have funky legs. I stole his eyes because well no real reason, but I think if he was like extra pissed you would see his eyes. Since he is like thief maxxing I do not think he would be wearing anything beyond a hoodie and sweatpants, something trying to be non-assuming I guess. He has hair I think but it is very short no way would he want to deal with that. I don’t have a voice hc for him yet. Aroace (😈)

Bive - she a freakkkkk ehhh. I think she is like freakishly tall, has funny bird legs, raggedy ass scrawny tail, and is constantly covered in hair. Her teeth are kinda just floating on her hair head, so if you punched her hard enough they would just go flying out and she would have to put them back into her head silly girl. I think she is also trans hahaahhahahahaha!!! I think she kinda sounds like ENA from dream bbq, the uhh angry side I believe. Ace (😈)

Split - I gave her dog ears because I think they are cute :) she’s probably like normal ish height Bive is just weirdly tall. She looks very nice and friendly but could probably throw a boulder at you and you will die sowyyyy. Gods most chillaxxed soldier. She gives me kind older lady feelings, even if she weren’t older. I dunno she would be like one of those people who have a comically large purse full of hard candy except it would all be banana flavored. I think she has a slower voice, HAVENT gotten an exact idea for her voice yet but she seems very calm. Ace (😈)

Pilby - I didn’t really add or change their design because I already liked it a lot. I think they are very sweet and kind looking, would make a great plush too but I guess we are not ready to talk about that (YES I am still bitter about it) I think being around them is akin to looking outside a window at an apple orchard while it’s raining a bit. I think they sound a bit like raggedy Anne, based on the creators response too. Aroace (😈)

Spud! - I honestly did not have much come to me for his design, they are just a bit of a funky feller and im not sure how I would add to it honestly. Oh but I do think that they run like an ostrich and it is very scary. Also while drawing I was debating why he had a bow and decided that Gnarpy was like CONGRATZ IN ZURVIVING THE TEZTZ and now Spud! Just has a stupid little yuor did it ribbon. Honestly no clue for voice hc… aroace (😈)

Gnarpy - had a lot of fun with xis design honestly. The redesign reminded me a lot of Stitch so I kinda just shoved that into xim. I think they act a lot like Zim. Like a lot. Probably equally as stupid. I think xis second arms are retractable, like stitch, and xe uses that as a very very shitty disguise that everyone can see right through but just don’t mention because xe seems to be having a good time. I think xe sounds like Four from BFB (the earlier episodes mostly) aroace (😈)

DRRETRO - I think that her head that we see in the game is like a projection of herself, Wagstaff Don’t Starve style. Her body would be like excruciatingly normal besides her head, too. Like go to the hospital and see a nurse, that’s just what she looks like. Very normal, it’s a bit unnerving since her head is that. She’s like those overly friendly posters in a very uncomfortable place type of feeling. She doesn’t have fur either, she’s just a weird cat doctor thing. She acts exactly like Doctor Barber from Flapjack. No voice hc, but she speaks in meows so probably just meowing. Aroace (😈)

Mark - I started thinking about tf2 and Anton blast. Anyway, he is completely made from wood other than the clothes. Beard is carved in, not sure if I got that across in the drawing though. Uh yea I don’t have much I just really like engineer. He wears flannel and a construction vest just like any good law avoiding construction worker. Definitely does not so legal things on his construction sites but does not give two shits about that and also probably would try to employ Lampert when he was younger for free workers (no im not projecting what are you talking about). How on the nose would it be to say he sounds like engineer because I just drew wooden engineer with a beard. Ace (😈)

Wallter - sorry wallter fans I had no ideas while drawing him. I dunno he’s big and he’s cement, so I kept him blocky. Urrrrr he has a can of grey stuff jingle jingle. He is the cement embodiment of that one tweet that’s like “nothing better than a glass of wine, except for maybe #men. #yep #imgay! He kinda seems like one of those lowkey scary bald gay guys who are nice but are also scary and still bald. He’s bald. No idea on voice maybe concrete sliding on asphalt for 10 hours. Ace (😈)

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Maybanks sister

Series masterlist, previous chapter

Chapter 7- Goodbye

Summary: Rafe slowly is becoming more and more unhinged. You realize his toxicity now, and you realize that there is no saving him.

“I need you to stop it.” Ward spoke, taking his hands off of Rafe. But Rafe wasn’t having it. He stood up from the chair, throwing it to the floor.

“You just can’t do it, can you? You can’t do the hard thing.”

“I can’t do the hard thing?” Ward asked, surprised at his nerve.

“No, you can’t.” Rafe walked towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You can’t even look at me when I’m trying to talk to you. Im trying to have a real conversation!”

Ward shoved Rafe off of him, pushing him into a table and knocking down some glass and metal. He slapped him when he tried to go against him, Rafe panting as he looked back up at his dad.

You watched from the doorway, your mouth agape as you watched the scene. It was like you were back at home and 15.

“How many times did I bail you out before that, huh? How many?!” He shouted.

“You saved me? Rafe, you fucked us! All of us!”

Rafe’s eyes watered, he went past you and straight towards the balcony. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“I suck. Man up.” His hands went over his face. “Man up.” He told himself.

“Rafe?” You murmured under your breath, coming up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

He barely turned to you, but shoved your hand off when he heard a phone dinging on the table. You turned to the phone now, Rafe went toward it and saw some messages, picking up Wheezies phone.

He knew who it was. He opened up her phone, thinking for a moment before typing.

“Rafe…” you said, your voice quiet. “T-“

“Shut up. Please, God.” He mumbled the last part. You furrowed your eyebrows at his words, feeling a pang of hurt in your chest.

“Don’t… don’t fucking look at me like that.” He told you when he turned around, looking back at you now, and putting the phone in his pocket.

“I’m just worried. Your dad… he’s abusing you, and you don’t realize it-“

“Did you forget you’re living in his house right now? Cause you can’t even pay fucking rent.” He scoffed. “I’m a fucking man, I can take it. He’s not abusing me.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s what he wants you to think, Rafe.”

“Just because your dad abuses you doesn’t mean everyone else’s is, y/n.” He said, tone annoyed.

He realized his mistake when he didn’t hear you.

You just nodded to yourself, scoffing and going back into his room. He went to go follow before Wheezie was in front of him.

“You seen my phone?” Wheezie asked Rafe when you left the balcony with tears in your eyes.

“What?”

“Have you seen my phone?” Wheezie asked, looking at Rafe now.

“No, I haven’t seen your phone.” He said harshly, enough to make her walk away and go towards his room while he groaned, running a hand over his face.

She stayed silent for a moment, watching you in the doorway as you sobbed silently while shoving everything into a bag.

“Are you okay?” She asked you, you didn’t turn around. Just nodded.

“I’m… I’m fine. Thanks, Wheezie.” You spoke, voice stuffy, you wiped your tears as she came over and sat on his bed, next to you.

“He’s an asshole. You deserve better.” She told you.

“Yeah.” You said with a small laugh.

“I’m serious. You’re like… super nice to him, and all he does is yell at you or something.”

But they didn’t see him when he cried in your arms or when you held him. They didn’t see him when he comforted you.

“Thanks, Wheezie. I’ll see you around…” you told her, giving her a small smile as you threw your bag over your shoulder.

Rafe came in, blocking the door.

“The fuck are you doing in my room? Get out!” He shouted at Wheezie, she held her hands up and walked out the room, giving you one last worried glance. You began to walk over to, before he spoke.

“Where are you going?” He asked you now, his body blocking you from leaving, and slamming his door.

“Anywhere but here.”

“Jesus fuckin’… is this about what I said? Because you know I didn’t mean-“

“You did mean it, Rafe. And if you don’t want to recognize that your dad is abusing you, or that you’ve become a complete asshole,” you shoved your finger into his chest, looking into his eyes.

“Oh, I’m the asshole? I’m the asshole for wanting the best for you?”

“Then we’re done.” You sighed.

“Done? We’re not fucking done, this is stupid-“ he argued, grabbing your wrist tightly. “We’ll never be fucking done.” His voice was low and his grip only got tighter. You let out a cry at his grip.

He stared into your eyes now, his rage faltering as he saw your panicked eyes now. His grip had hurt.

“Let go of me.” You spoke.

He did, watching you open the door before you left.

“Goodbye, Rafe.” You spoke, looking down at your wrist and rubbing it, your back facing him.

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, tears that fell when you left the house and practically ran away from the entire figure eight and down to one place you knew you could stay.

You came face to face with your cousins house. What you didn’t expect to see was JJ.

“Listen, man, all you gotta do is leave the ambulance running. It’s a small favor to ask, Ricky, just a small one.” He spoke.

“Jj?” You asked, shocked at his presence. Both boys turned to you, your tear filled eyes and your disheveled state.

“Y/n?” They both said in unison.

“What are you doing here?” Ricky asked you. “Thought you were staying with your rich boyfriend.”

Of course he didn’t have any bad intentions with his words, but he noticed the way your lip wobbled once he said it.

“He… I broke up with him.” You told them quietly, staring down at the ground.

“Oh, Shit. Sorry.” Ricky said.

“About time.” Jj murmured, making Ricky hit him in the arm, giving him a glare. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I.. Ricky, can I speak with you in private?”

“Why?” Jj asked, butting into the conversation. His eyebrows furrowed when he turned to look at you.

“JJ, I-“ you started.

“Yeah. Course…” Ricky told you, interrupting what you were saying, standing up now.

“I’m not having any part of your plan. You’ve come up with a lot of dumb ideas, but this might be the dumbest.” He told JJ now, going where all the plants were. You followed behind him, and so did JJ, ever so stubborn.

“who ran that load up to Cape fear when your hemp came in hot? Me, all right?” Jj told him, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry about your bud, I really am. But I’m not helping you commit suicide. Sorry. Now leave us alone, please. I’m working an overnight later, so if we’re cool…”

“Yeah. We’re cool. See you.”

They hugged it out, Jj having a new idea in his head.

“See you, y/n.” Jj said, you just gave him a small nod and turned back to Ricky.

“So, what’s up?” He asked you, eyes on his weed still.

“I’m… gonna be honest with you Ricky. I lost the house. I couldn’t pay the bills without…Luke. I don’t have a job, I haven’t had time, and I’ve been homeless for a few days… but I used to stay at… Rafes house, now…”

He took his eyes off the plant, looking at you in pity as you started crying again.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you, patting your back as you cried into his shoulder.

Your older cousin had been with you through almost everything, and he was not going to stop doing so now.

“You can stay as long as you need to.” He told you.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, your voice a croak.

“I’m sure.”

“Thank you.” You choked out, putting your head back onto him.

————————————

“Rafe, if she testifies as well…” Ward said, pinching the the bridge of his nose.

“I know.” Rafe rasped out, his arms crossed as he looked down at the floor.

“Why would you tell her?”

“Because you never fucking listened, dad!”

It was silent for a little before Ward spoke up.

“You better find a way to fix it. She could ruin everything.”

“She’s not just gonna-“

“She could.”

“You don’t-“

“Find. A. Way, Rafe.” Was Wards last sentence before walking away.

——

Taglist:

@rafesgiirl

@fals3-g0d

@tiaamberxx

@callsignwidow

[renranram]

baby making with quackity. 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Baby Making!

q. version ヘ⁠（⁠。⁠□⁠°⁠）⁠ヘ

nsfw!

this is quackity version of my schlatt one!

word count: 1976!

( i made him speak spanish, i apologize please just use google if you're struggling with understanding, also do correct me if im wrong enjoy!! )

the discussion of having children hasn't came up to you and alex’s relationship, both of you are aware of the large responsibilities it came with

but god forbid alex quackity having a tiktok account, his fyp filled with baby videos that he couldn't help but coo to

“ after marriage “ that's two of you agreed to, after marriage then children, but can't the man just dream?

the boy had been giving you subtle hints, during one time, on live, his viewers notices a pair of baby shoes and started spamming about it, “ oh this? “ he picks up the small shoes, beige brown

< ilikemymenlikequack: is (y/n) pregnant??

< quackadoodledoo: ALEXIS FATHER ERA?

< husbandkosialex: WOI OMG??

“ chat, (y/n) isn't pregnant yet, i just found these on amazon and thought it was cute, “ alex shows off the baby shoes, fixing his beanie with a smile, “ id like to be a dad one day tho “

and it continued, “ chat, isn't this cute? “ alex asks, showing off semi realistic baby doll, one that was given to him during twitchcon, “ it looks so fucking cool “ he chuckles

“ id want this baby to be real in the future “ alex adds, chuckling, and it continued, giving you simple hints, such as baby toys, clothes, and sudden talks of marriage

“ so…. when do you think we'd get married? “ alex looks at you, as you cook dinner for the two of you, “ what? you wanna get married? “

“ when you want to of course, “ he spun on your counter's chair, “ i mean i think it's cute just the two of us having a wedding, rings in both of our fingers, then we can show off to everyone that we're so in love “ he rambles, shrugging his shoulder

you chuckle, “ we're not even fiances yet? “ you face him, turning off the stove as you serve up the dish in plates, “ well, we will be in the future “ alex replies

“ well… i think marriage with you would be great, would be happy and satisfied with my life, but aren't we still young? “ you added as alex makes his way on your dining table, “ hm… right… what about babies? “ quackity asks non chalantly

“ what about babies? “ you repeat, wanting him to get straight to the point, deadpanning him, your hand resting on your hip

“ you know… babies…? “ alex awkwardly chuckles as he scratches the back of his head, “ i know what babies are “ you reply

“ lex… is there something you need to tell me? “ you ask, removing the apron from your torso, hanging it somewhere as you approach him

cupping him by his cheeks, you ask, “ is there something wrong that we need to talk about? “ god, that was one of the reasons why he just wants to marry you right there right now

“...i wanna… get you pregnant “ alex confesses, sighing in defeat as he leans more onto your touch, “ i dont think i can wait after marriage… i wanna see you in cute maternal clothes…, feeding our baby, babying them, i know you'd be the perfect mother, fuck, you're the perfect wife id ever ask for even tho we're not even married yet, it's just… i know i sound selfish and desperate but fuck, “ alex returns your affection by cupping your cheek too, “ i love you so much that i think i wanna make babies with you to show off how much i love you “

alex pecks your cheek, “ i love you so much, i just wanna show you off with our baby in your stomach “ he added, “ can we do it? please? “ he pleaded, “ i know if you think it's too much, but let me be selfish for once please? “

you pause, blinking as your eyes flutter, a faint pink tint appearing on your cheeks, “ lex…, babies are big responsibilities “ you added, “ i know, that's why im working hard aren't i? “ alex replies to you, with a soft gentle tone, caressing your cheek with just his thumb, “ my money’s big enough “

“ fuck… i can marry you right now, take a flight to vegas and get married to that stupid elvis chapel you keep joking about “ alex smiles warmly and affectionately

“ please? mami? “ alex pleaded, and dear lord how you folded so fast, now there's the two of you, making out with small giggles and chuckles

it was warm, gentle and comfortable for the both of you as alex gently pressed you against your bedroom’s door, his tongue swirling with you, making out as if it's your first time again, his hands, rests on your waist, holding on you gently on your place

“ mami you're so beautiful “ he whispers between the kisses, fixing your hair out of your face, before pulling you into a kiss again, your hands resting on his chest as you take the kiss, your lips locked with eachother, passionately and warmly

alex slowly slips his hand in your blouse, resting in your midriff, “ vas a ser una gran mamá para nuestros hijos “ he whispers, pecking your cheek as you giggle softly in response, “ baby… is that why you've been ordering baby stuffs off amazon? “ you ask as he chuckles, nodding, “ i was hoping you'd get the hint “

“ im kinda hints-blinded “ you joke as he chuckles, pecking your neck, trailing kisses all over you, “ i should've told you from the start then “ he added, “ would've been a better idea “ you smile, giggling loudly as he picks you up, holding onto you gently yet tightly, securing his grip on your hand as he press kisses all over your face, “ mami, you're the only person i can think of doing this with me “ alex hums, gently setting you down on your bed, his eyes hovering all over your body as he smiles warmly, seeing you all so pretty underneath him

alex removes his shirt, tossing it to the side, and he leans back down with you, “ mami, i want a little girl, she's going to be as beautiful as you, “ he cuts himself off with a kiss to your collarbone, “ as smart as you, “ he kisses your upper chest, gently guiding you to take off your top, before continuing, “ as kind as you “ alex pecks your chest, “ as friendly as you “ he pecks your stomach, his hand resting on the waistband of your shorts, gently tugging it down with your underwear

“ as perfect as you are “ alex lowers, now pecking on pelvis, “ alex… didn't know you're shakespeare “ you joke, giggling, causing him to chuckle in response, “ oh fuck off mami im trying to be romantic here “ he added, smiling warmly, his eyes filled with love and adoration as he fixes your hair

“ im… going to make you feel so loved “ alex replies as he nuzzles his mouth onto your clitoris, liking a strip on your warm organ with smile on his lips, “ you already make me feel so love lex “ you reply as her intertwines his hand with yours, the other holding you up

“ it's not enough “ alex replies as he kisses your clit, sucking it, lapping you, nuzzling his warm tongue, “ it is enough “ you mutters, moaning softly as you squeezes his hand

“ not for me that is, “ as alex eats you out, his finger gently enters you, feeling your wetness and tighness as you moan softly, alex finding a moment as he playfully scolds you, “ can you stop being such a smartass so i can fuck you, querido dios por favor “

you cackle, giggling as he smiles warmly, his finger thrusting into you with his tongue wetting you all up, you toss your head back, moaning softly as your other hand kneads with your breast

alex maintains eye contact, giving you heart eyes with every reaction you could possibly release, god, that man is so in love with you, chuckling softly, seeing how you gasp when he enters another finger in, admiring how you squeezed his hand in response

“ hah… lex “ you whimper out as his fingers skillfully scissors you, “ does it feels good mami? “ he asks, lapping you like a damn dog, enjoying your slickness as you nods, your finger dancing gentle with your nipples, kneading you breast as the other squeezes his hand

after a few minutes of sucking, fingering, you felt a familiar pool in your stomach as you gasp, “ lex.. lex.. im close “ you moan out, louder than the rest as alex nods, kissing your clitoris as he fastens his finger, causing you a few sharp gasps

“ do it mami, make a mess to my face “ alex reassures you, licking a stripe as you groan out in pleasure, seeing your legs shake, and with a squirt of your juices in his face, alex accomplished what he wanted, even tho, that was just the first step

he pecked your clit one last time, before pulling away, you making a mess on his face as he giggles, watching you whine out as he pulls out his finger, “ so pretty, mi linda esposa “

seeing him chuckle and smile, couldn't help but bring a smile on your face too, you just couldn't believe you're making a baby with the man you've loved for years, alex as gently as possible, spreaded your legs, propping himself between it as he pecks the side of your ankle, releasing your intertwined finger as he whistles in amusement seeing you all so flustered and pink

“ i love you “ alex mutters as he slips his pants down with his boxers, “ i love so much mami, you're going to be such a pretty and perfect wife and mamá to our daughter “

as he worships your body, his eyes not letting a single crevice of your body left untouched or unloved, he hums as he gently enters your body, the two of you gasp in unison, “ you alright mami? “ he asks, making sure you felt pleasure instead of pain, his almond shaped brown eye watches you, filled with adoration and love as you bit your lip, nodding

“ im moving, ¿bueno?, tell me if it hurts, ill stop mami “ alex gently warns as his hips roll against you gently, watching you moan out, your eyes fluttering in pleasure, enjoying how your body bounces with every single thrust

you chuckle softly, a warm intimate moment like this was just perfect, he was perfect for you, a pretty, gentle, kind boy who'd do everything, just to make you feel loved, if you were to switch places and had the dick, you'd probably do the same

you moan out, as he leans down, kissing you, his arm wrapped around your torso, flattening you as his thrusts continues, his tongue swirling with yours, feeling the smile on his lips

your lips stayed intact, only pulling away for taking breathes, noticing his thrusts speeding up as he groans, “ te amo mucho, seré la esposa más bonita que jamás haya existido “ he whispers, as you moan back in reply

“ te amaré por siempre y te adoraré como si fueras mi dios, te amo mucho, no puedo creer que seas mía y que estemos haciendo esto “ he added, alex groans out as he holds onto tightly

“ feels so good mami? “ alex mutters, staggering slightly as you nod in response, moaning, as you gasp

“ ah fuck.. fuck… im so close “ alex gasps, “ let me be selfish this time, ¿está bien? “ he added as he tightens his hold onto you, his hips thrusting faster and faster, your moans and gasps giving him more power to just get you pregnant right there

“ fuck fuck fuck fuck “ with every curse his thrusts was speeding up, kissing you all over your face as you receive him, “ será la esposa más bonita que jamás haya existido, ¿eh? “

“ te luciré muy bien en casa, todos se sorprenderán de lo bonita que eres cuando estás embarazada, ¿de acuerdo? “ he groans out, catching his high as he climaxes into you, filling you up with his seed, making you a mother

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

we're in love - m. murdock

a/n: hi guys not dead just played a LOT of baldurs gate over break and now im back ay college with matt murdock brainrot this ones been floating around the old noggin a while. sorry. likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: DEAD DOVE with a happy ending, hard of hearing reader, cannon typical marvel violence, probably badly written violence, matt being upset, once again im tired and sleepy and bad at doing warnings, reader gets kidnapped TWICE, reader has superpowers, reader is TECHNICALLY a hybrid but literally just in the way that she has small antlers and deer like abilities (strength, jump height), fucked up experiments, ANGST ANGST ANGST, memory loss trope but like... the one from the hunger games. matt is hopelessly in love with reader, reader wants to kill matt, kissing, implied sexual ideas, cursing. SHAMELESS USE OF REAL OR NOT REAL FROM THG, reader having anxiety, and allusions of sex. word count: 7.1k summary: when your past finally catches up to you, matt truly learns what 'in sickness and in health' means. pairing: matt murdock x hoh!wife!reader now playing: we're in love - boygenius "will you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?/i know what you'll say/but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

Falling in love with Matt Murdock was the easy part.

Falling back in love with him was the tough bit.

You had spent the years leading up to meeting him as a boxer turned vigilante— Your dad had taught you how to fight young, which led to a lot of trouble at school until he eventually started helping you enter teenage fights against your mom’s wishes.

It’s how you paid for college.

And then, after your college experience, you lose control. It was never supposed to happen the way it did. You had lost a fight and stole the guy’s motorcycle in defiance. But the roads were wet from an early snow and people of New York never knew how to drive.

Just like that, the nerves in your hands were shot. The accident got your hearing too since you got sick from the cold after your accident. The infection got so bad that it took the hearing from your left ear—And half from your right.

For months, you thought you’d never gain control of your hands again, snapping from a promising young fighter to a deaf and shaky temp. You were miserable. Fighting was your everything for so long.

And then The Doctor found you.

No, not the alien from the British television show, but a man who promised you your old life back. He found you while you were at your lowest and realized that you would do anything for your old life back.

He said in exchange for your old life, all you would have to do would be a test subject for a harmless new drug he was testing out.

You were so enamored by the idea of your old life that you had decided to take him up on his offer, so you were whisked away upstate with a group of other people desperate enough to try this experiment out.

Every morning you were given a shot of blue liquid into your arm, and then, you were to preform a series of tasks to record your progress. After three weeks you grew frustrated that you had seen no progress. You spent most of your time asking people to talk into your right ear and becoming mad at The Doctor.

About a month in, you started growing antlers.

At first, you freaked out. Like, truly, screamed and yelled, wanting an explanation. The Doctor celebrated, telling you this was great news—And to prove it, he had you pick up a pen and write a sentence out. Your hands didn’t shake and did everything you told them to do.

On top of the antlers and the newfound control of your nerves, you were strong—Fast, too. You could jump twelve-foot walls. The Doctor was obsessed with you. While other patients died off from whatever drugs you were being given, you were thriving.

At the end of your three-month stay, you were excited to leave and head back to your life. You’d just have to wear beanies everywhere to hide your antlers, you told yourself. A small price to pay.

But The Doctor wouldn’t let you leave.

How could he, he asked you, when you were his best test subject?

Being a prisoner was a lot worse than you thought it would be. Day in and day out, you were trained to be a soldier, you think. Fighting various guards, doing different athletic tests. The serum hadn’t fixed your hearing, but it had given you all of these gifts.

Until The Doctor became cruel.

He gave the guards these batons that had shock currents at the end of them, instructing them to use it whenever you talked back or underperformed. For months you struggled through days of electric shocks and experiments.

One night, a guard slipped into your cell, expecting you to be an easy target. You quickly showed him differently, knocking him out and stealing his weapons. And then, you ran. You ran until your feet bled—No shoes.

An old woman who had retired upstate welcomed you into her small cabin and fed you, never asking about the small antlers growing out of your head. She simply gave you a warm knit cap and a pair of boots for the cold.

You remember eating chili with her as she told you about her deceased husband. You changed your last name to theirs, knowing The Doctor would find you if you kept going by your name. You stayed with her for a weekend, coming back from gathering firewood to The Doctor’s men there, having killed the kind old woman and on the hunt for you. You stole her car and never looked back.

The next few weeks after that had been full of killing various soldiers and armies that The Doctor had sent after you, until you eventually pushed The Doctor off a building, believing to have killed him for good.

And that was that.

You went on with your life as usual, finding a permanent job as a secretary. In a law office.

Which, of course, is where you met Matt.

With Matt, you never felt the need to hide who you were. Of course, it was a lot easier to tell him that some mad scientist had infected you with a drug that turned you into a deer hybrid when he told you that he was Daredevil.

And with time, some of the effects of the serum began to fizzle out. Strength, Agility, Antlers—Those stayed. The control over your hands didn’t. But you made peace with that. Physical Therapy twice a week and hearing aids helped.

Especially because early Sunday mornings were filled with Matt running his fingers through your hair, running his pointer finger along the curves of your antlers. He takes your hands and kisses your fingertips as they shake, hushing you softly when you start crying as he does.

He spars with you and spends nights running around New York City with you, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

He tells you about Elektra, Stick, his dad, and Fisk.

One day, when you feel safe enough, wrapped up in his arms and a layer of blankets as snow falls against the windows, you tell him about The Doctor.  You explain to him your nightmares, and why they will never go away.

He kisses away your tears and promises he’ll never let anything happen to you.

When he asks you to marry him, you don’t hesitate to say yes. There’s not a moment where you regret that decision. You insist to get married in the summer, during the short month where your antlers shed before they grow back. He agrees happily, just wanting you to be happy.

You’ve been married for about five months when you start to think about kids. You’ve been married six when you realize the worst possible scenario is your reality—When vials of blue serum show up at your front door with a note scribbled out—

‘My Best Test Subject,

I cannot wait to catch up with you soon.

-The Doctor’

You call Matt in a panic, begging him to come home and be with you. He obliges and holds you as you calm down. He promised to love you in sickness and in health, and that is what he fully intends to do.

This is the story of the greatest challenge that your marriage would face.

• • •

After the note you had received, you almost exclusively traveled with Matt. Even for just a casual stroll, a walk to the deli or home from work, He was there with you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you felt safer with him close by.

But Matt’s senses were never as focused when it rained, especially on nights like today. The rain pours, it almost stings against his skin. And it’s loud. You don’t have your hearing aids in, so they catch you both by surprise.

It all happens too fast—

In an instant, Matt is being pulled off your arm and slammed against the closest brick alley, and when he hears the click of a gun behind him, he realizes what’s happening. He tries to fight, but before he can make any process, someone is swinging that gun against his head, and when he wakes up, he’s all alone.

He calls out to you and gets no response other than thunder rumbling from miles away. He is filled with nothing but a rage, a determination to find you.

He scrambles for his phone and uses it to call Karen.

“I need you to get Frank.” He tells her, “Please. I.. I don’t know what happened, but.. He took her, I need.. Karen, I need to find her.” He tells her.

Frank is on his way to New York within the hour.

• • •

When you wake up, your arms are strapped behind your back in some sort of metal contraption. You can feel the ache in your hands, indicating that you had fought against whoever brought you here. The room is quiet. A small cot in one corner, but the rest of the room is barren.

You’re wearing white pants and a gray muscle tee, with no shoes. You’re suddenly thankful you left your wedding ring at home, so that it might not end up in his hands.

You wait a while, and then the door opens. The Doctor, flanked by two men in heavy armor, holding those batons you’re all too acquainted with, steps into the room. You simply stare, but The Doctor looks like a child on Christmas morning.

But there’s something else to his appearance. His left eye is this bright yellow, and his pupil is a different shape. Green scales travel up his neck and coat the bottom right half of his face, and down his arms, reaching his fingertips. He looks like a monster, but you quickly realize what has happened.

Whatever serum gave you your abilities, was given to him. Only, his was made from that of snakes, not deer.

“My beautiful creation!” He gasps and takes your face in his hand, planting a kiss to your head, right between your antlers. “It’s been too long, you know.” His ‘s’ sounds are elongated, and his teeth are sharper. He has become destroyed by his own mad endeavors. When you don’t respond to his greeting, he continues to speak. “It’s been an eventful few years for you, huh?” When this doesn’t get a response from you, he stands up straight and backs up just a foot. “New job, new name… New husband.” Your head snaps up at that. “What? You think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you and the boy? What do you call him, then? Matthew or Daredevil?”

Your eyes grow wide, unsure how he knows about your husband’s secret hobby.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit, your gaze hardening into a glare.

“Don’t I? You make quite the couple. The little deaf doe and her crime fighting blind husband.” He laughs, “And they say I like a project.”

“You won’t touch him or I swear to god—”

“Little doe, you misunderstand. I want nothing to do with your husband. I just want you to be the good subject I know you can be.” He tells you. “You and I are the only of our kind. I want to study you, replicate you.”

“You’re going to kidnap more people.”

“You weren’t kidnapped, you volunteered.”

“I won’t do whatever it is you want me to do.” You tell him. “I don’t care, I will escape, I will kill you.”

He shakes his head, taking one of the batons from the guards, before hitting you across the face with it. You groan in pain, turning your head back to glare at him. He sighs.

“I didn’t want to have to do this. But I did anticipate that Husband of yours interrupting things.” He hands the baton back to the guard before telling him. “Take her down the hall and get her ready, alright?”

You struggle your way down the hall, refusing to do whatever is coming to you without a fight. When the guards uncuff you to strap you to this big dentist looking chair, you manage to get out of the grasp of the guard, swinging a punch on him but this newfound advantage is short lived, as the other guard quickly grabs your arms and pushes you against the chair. You’re yelling and thrashing but they manage to get your arms and legs strapped down to the chair.

Your heartbeat is racing, and quietly, only in your mind, you beg. But not for mercy. Not from The Doctor. You beg Matt to come find you. Because you know that you do not stand a chance on your own, but maybe he could find you. He had to find you.

The Doctor sits in a chair next to you and holds up a small purple vial.

“This is hallucinogenic snake venom, mixed with a duller version of the serum we gave you. What this will do is allow me to go into your memories and alter them.” He explains as if you’re getting a simple procedure done. Tears fill your eyes.

“You’re going to make me forget him?” You ask, your voice breaking.

The Doctor hushes you softly, wiping your tears softly.

“Oh, no, little doe. I’m going to change what you do remember about him to make you hate him.”

• • •

Six months is a long time to be without your wife. For anyone, no matter who it is.

For Matt Murdock, it’s absolute torture. He spends all day half paying attention to his work while trying to research who The Doctor is. He spends all night trying to find you.

Frank lives, breathes, eats and sleeps to find you. He’s still technically a wanted man, so he pretty much stays under the radar as he looks for you. You remind him of a lot of guys he knew in the army, of himself.

Karen busies herself with research, looking through cases of old files at The Bulletin to try and see if there are any tips or stories that could maybe be connected to where you are. She gets about as little sleep as Matt.

And Foggy has the most important job of all.

Making sure Matt doesn’t kill himself in the process of trying to find you. Because for the first two months Matt didn’t sleep, hardly ate. And as he deteriorated, Foggy reminded him that to find you, he’d need to stay alive. He needs to shower, he needs to keep going to church, he needs to keep eating. The thought of hearing your heartbeat again keeps him going.

It’s as they’re packing up to go home one night that Frank comes into the office with blood-stained hands. They all know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something, so Karen asks first.

“What? What is it?”

“Buddy of mine found a file. Some private medicinal corporation funding a project for some sort of doctor doing cancer research, upstate.”

The location peaks Matt’s interest, because one of the few things he knows of your first experience is that the lab was in upstate New York.

“Okay, but—” Karen starts, but Frank hands her the file.

“Report shows the guy had scales.” He told her. “And I don’t know what you guys make of that but sounds to me like a side effect similar to the serum that was given to her.”

“Where?” Matt asks.

“Red, just—”

“Give me a god damn address, Frank.” He demands.

“I’ll drive you. Come on, things are probably gonna get wild and I don’t want you going alone.” He told him. Matt agrees, but only because he knows he can’t drive and would wind up walking to you.

“Then let’s go.” Before Frank can argue, Matt is walking out the door and going to get suited up for the journey ahead.

• • •

Daredevil is my enemy.

Matt Murdock hates me.

I hate him.

We were never really in love with each other.

These are the thoughts that echo through your mind as you wait for your next round of testing. The six-month mark is pivotal, The Doctor tells you time and time again.

Overall, you’ve made tremendous progress. He tells you that within weeks, other serums will be ready to test on new subjects. Maybe then, he tells you, he’ll promote you from just being a soldier.

Maybe.

You almost don’t hear the alarm going off somewhere in the distance. Of course, you don’t. The serum has never helped your hearing.

The way you remember it, Daredevil, a man who once claimed to love you, fought you to the point that he destroyed the nerves in your hands, destroyed your hearing. It’s fuzzy now, but you know this: The Doctor helped you. He put you back together.

But you do hear the alarm, eventually. It concerns you; it means someone has broken into the building. Your thoughts linger on the masked vigilante that haunts your nightmare. You’re getting stronger to defeat him, The Doctor says.

It’s a cool summer night when whoever it is broke in, breaks down your door. You immediately stand, quickly identifying Frank Castle, a grin breaking across your face. Closely behind, you identify a man in red.

Your heartbeat races, but you just stare at the pair.

Matt strips off his helmet and approaches you, wanting to make sure this was real. That you were real. His hands find your cheeks, and tears fill his eyes. He says your name gently.

“I found you, I’ve got you…”

You blink, unsure of what sort of cruel teasing that was.

Because in an instant, your glare hardens and you’re pushing him against a wall, starting to throw punches at him. He’s too far in shock to react, but Frank is pulling you off of him, and you’re struggling against him.

“Let me go! I need to kill him! He’s evil, he needs to die!” You cry, and Matt is just saying your name softly, in absolute disarray. What had they done to you, his sweet girl?

Frank pins you down to the ground, unsure of why you, a woman he had perceived to be so in love with the man behind him, are so adamant that he dies.

“Enough, Enough!” He barks, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at Matt. “That is your husband, girl. Stop acting like he’s torturing you when he is not the one whose been experimenting on you for six months!”

“Let me go, I need him gone! He’s cruel, He’s a monster!” You cry, and Matt has started crying. Putting you both out of your misery, Frank hits you in a way that knocks you right out. Matt goes over to your now unconscious form and pets your hair.

“Why was she—”

“I don’t know.. I just don’t know, red. Let’s get her out of here to figure it out, okay?” Matt just nods and grabs his helmet, slipping it on so Frank can’t see him crying anymore.

• • •

If you had a nickel for every time you woke up tied to a chair, you’d have more nickels than you had fingers.

Today is no different.

You’re surrounded by people you don’t recognize. And one you do. Your angry glare stays on him, and he looks upset by it.

You’re unsure why. You’re so sure he just wanted you dead.

The blonde woman in front of you says your name softly. When your gaze shifts to her, you notice her soft eyes.

“How do you know my name?” You ask.

She frowns.

“It—Because we’re good friends.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t… My name is Karen.” She says softly. She goes over to a nearby shelf, pulling out a picture frame and showing it to you. “Here, that’s you and me. At your wedding.”

“My wedding? The one that he set up just to hurt me?”

Matt remembers you telling him that you had never been happier than when you were getting ready for your wedding.

There’s two other men, one held you down while you were meant to kill Matt, but the other one.. You vaguely remember him standing next to Matt when you got married.

He speaks next.

“Matt and Frank, they found these vials in one of the labs. We think the man that took you used it to... to alter your memories.”

“Why would The Doctor do that? He helped me.” You tell them, unsure what to make of this whole situation. Matt is growing extremely frustrated because he knows just how scared you were of that monster.

“Untie her.” Matt tells Frank, and everyone looks at him like he’s crazy. Including you because you know that you’ll just try and kill him. “Do it,” he tells him again and very hesitantly, Frank does untie you. When you’re free from the rope, you step forward to go towards Matt, but Frank grabs your arm.

“Don’t,” he says. But then, Matt reaches for Frank’s gun on the nearby table and hands it to you. Odd choice for a man you want to kill.

“Go ahead.” He tells you, facing you now. “Shoot me, kill me if that’s what you really want to do.” He says. You stare at the gun in your hand for a second, before holding it properly and aiming it at Matt. Everyone waits with bated breath to see what you’ll do.

Pull the trigger, you tell yourself, The Doctor’s voice echoing around your head. He hurt you, the voice says. He needs to die.

And yet, you just stare at the man on the other end of the gun, trying to build up the courage to kill him. To kill the man that for months you have been taught needs to die. That you have memories of hurting you, of maiming you.

Your hand tremors as tears fill your eyes, until you eventually drop your arm, so the gun isn’t pointing at him anymore.

“Look at the photo of you and Karen,” Matt tells you, “You have hearing aids in the photo. I didn’t do that to you, you got into a bad accident, you got sick and that’s how you lost your hearing. I had nothing to do with that. You even had your powers before me, you didn’t just get them in the past six months. The Doctor is an evil man who just wanted to torture people and turn them into science experiments.” He tells you, and you want to tell him to stop, that it’s not true. But something in you tells you not to. “I love you,” he says gently, and you flinch away from him when he says this.

It breaks his heart into a million pieces. Absolutely shatters it.

“I don’t know you.” You tell him.

Sensing that Matt doesn’t know what to say to that, Frank steps forward.

“Hey. I’m Frank, you remember me?”

“You pinned me down when you found me.” He sighs softly.

“Yeah, well.. You have memories of when the two of you got married, right? So those are real memories… What about the ones of him hurting you? Do they look any different?”

You take a moment to close your eyes and really focus on the memory you have so closely attached to the man in red. They’re.. Filmy. Like they have a filter on them or like glass shimmering in the sun.

Tears fall from your eyes as you open them, your hand quickly coming up to wipe your tears.

“I think we did enough for now.. She needs to rest.” The man whose name you don’t know, but he has this shaggy blonde hair. Then this question comes up in everyone’s mind—Where will you stay?

“I’ll take the couch,” Matt says, “You take the bed.” You don’t know how comfortable you are with being alone with Matt in this apartment, even if the memories are fake. They feel pretty real.

“I don’t know if—” Karen starts.

“I.. It’s fine..” you say softly, and that fills Matt with a fraction of hope. “It’s just over night.”

Frank sighs softly, taking his gun off the table and glancing at Matt.

“We’re only a phone call away, alright?” Karen tells him.

It feels sort of awkward that they only talk to him as if you can’t hear them. Well, you can’t hear them very well, but you can hear.

“There’s clothes for you in the bedroom,” Matt tells you, “Go take a shower and I’ll walk them to the door.” Very reluctant to turn your back on Matt, you make your way to the bedroom to gather your clothes and go to shower.

You really haven’t had a good shower in six months, so it’s nice to wash the dirt off your skin and from beneath your fingernails. You spend a long time under the hot shower, letting it burn your skin. Your whole life has been turned upside down because you’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Matt Murdock isn’t your sworn enemy, and that maybe.. he just.. does like you..

Meanwhile, Matt walks the others out, or at least to the door, hesitant to go too far from you.

Foggy glances back to him before he leaves, curiously.

“How did you know she wouldn’t shoot you?”

He hesitates.

“I didn’t.” he says softly. “I just trusted that somewhere within her, my wife still loves me.”

• • •

Later that night, you stare out the window of his apartment at that bright billboard. You gaze at it curiously, and hear Matt call your name gently behind you. In his hands, he holds your hearing aids.

You put them on, and just look at him for a few minutes.

“You kept them?”

“I never stopped looking for you..” He told you. “I prayed every night hoping to hear your heartbeat again.” He tells you, and you don’t know what to make of it. He seems so devoted to you, yet you have these memories of him beating you until you’re close to death.

“I’m sorry I can’t be in love with you the way you want me to be.”

He shrugs gently.

“In sickness and in health, right?”

“And in torture and memory alteration.”

“Same thing.”

For the first time in six months, you smile.

Maybe your husband isn’t such a bad guy.

You can only hope he’ll love you long enough for you to get your shit together and not want to kill him anymore.

• • •

Memories are a tricky thing.

You decide to spend your days with Frank, hunting down various people who worked with The Doctor. You talk a lot about your memories with him. And no matter what, at the end of the day, you have dinner with Matt.

One night, he brings home Thai Food.

“We had this for our first date,” he recalls. “You got pad Thai, your favorite.” You try to recall the memory.

“You wore a nice blue button up, right?” You say softly. He smiles gently and nods.

“Yeah. I did.” He says gently.

“Can..” You hesitate. “Can you tell me more about it? Our life together? I can’t.. discern between what’s real and fabricated.” You’re making new memories, sure, but you know he misses the life the two of you had together.

But he’s caught off guard by your request. For the past few weeks, you’ve been hesitant to indulge in any memories you think might be real.

“You used to work for me.” He tells you. “Not in a weird way, but our office is small. We fell in love over Thai food and opening statements.”

“Why did you want to marry me?”

He hesitates for a second, not wanting to scare you off.

“Because I love you.” He tells you. “Because when you were with me, it was the closest thing I’d ever knew to peace.” He confesses.

“Oh..”

“Yeah.” He takes another bite of his food. “You know if you have a memory and you don’t know if it’s real, you can always ask.”

You smile softly.

“Thanks.” There’s a soft silence that fills the room before you ask, “I have this memory of us in bed, with you running your hand through my hair.. Your fingers tracing these antlers I have.. Is that real?”

“Yeah, it is..” He promised. “I have a thing about textures and your hair is soft.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. This is nice. This gentleness that’s between you. It’s a softness you aren’t used to, one that you don’t know if you’d ever quite get used to.

Later that night, when you were meant to be fast asleep, you wake up with a startling gasp in bed. You look around panicked. You don’t quite know who you’re looking for..

Until Matt comes into the room, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and this calmness washes over you.

“Yeah..”

“Okay. Okay, good, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He says softly. He’s been so good to you, sleeping on the couch for so many weeks. He goes to leave, but you call out to him. He turns back to you.

“Can you stay with me?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course.” He says softly, climbing into bed with you. You think for a second, before shifting a bit, resting your head against his chest. You listen to the gentle thud of his heartbeat, as his hand finds your back, gently rubbing up and down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He isn’t dumb—He knows you have nightmares. And that on the nights that you do, you’re quieter and more avoidant of him. It’s a bad habit, one you want to break. Because you recognize that your dreams aren’t real.

Matt has never done anything to you, and you’re sure of this.. For the most part. Sometimes when you wake up, you must reorient yourself and remind yourself that Matt has no malicious intent towards you and no reason to hurt you.

But it takes you a few minutes to accomplish this. On those mornings, you tend to keep your distance from him, and because Matt wants nothing but your happiness, he stays away from you. But tea is always placed in front of you, and he never strays far from you.

“Not really.” You finally answer. There’s another beat of silence. “We went as the couple from The Princess Bride for our first Halloween together.. Real or not real?”

“Real.” He confirms.

“You broke my nose once during an argument. Real or not real?”

“Not real.” He tells you. “I would never hurt you. Even when we used to fight at the gym, it was always for practice, never to do actual damage. And when we would spar, it would always end with us going home and taking a hot bath.”

You close your eyes, trying to recall that particular memory. When you find it, your face flushes with this unfamiliar heat.

“You’re still trying to protect me even though I wanted you dead... Real or not real?”

“Real.” He doesn’t even hesitate. He’s not sure if you’ve realized it yet, but he’d rather die than put you anywhere close to being in danger. His hand continues to trace patterns into your skin, as you think about his response.

You fall asleep like this, close to the man who you’re realizing has never intended to hurt you a day in your life.

• • •

The day you realize you’re in love with your husband is horrifying.

Which seems like a crazy accusation to make, and yet, you feel nothing but horror when you realize that you are desperate for him. Which is insane, because you’ve been living with him for two months when you realize you are desperate to kiss him like you’re drowning and need air.

It happens at the office. You decided to cook, because you remember really liking it, and to say thank you for all he’s done for you, you want to bring lunch to Matt at work. So you make this really delicious chicken pesto pasta, and you pick up sodas to go along with it. Matt gets the following text:

‘Your favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Real or not real?’

Five minutes later, you get a response.

‘Real. Yours is sprite.’

You pick up a bottle of each and head over to his office. You’ve been there a few times before, but mostly it was because Frank needed to talk to Karen about something, but lately you’ve found yourself wanting to go to the office just to see Matt.

Matt is surprised when he hears the familiar beat of your heart on the other side of the door. He can also hear the slight buzz of your hearing aids.

“Sweetheart, you can come in.” He calls, but you hesitate even further. Not because you’re confused as to why he knows it’s you, but because your brain sort of short circuits when he calls you the pet name. But after a few minutes, you walk into the room and place lunch on his desk, as well with your drinks.

“Do you like pesto?”

“We had pesto pasta at our wedding.” Oh.

“So you do?”

“Yeah, I do. Especially the way you make it.”

“Oh, good.” You smile and sit at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Because I made chicken pesto pasta for lunch and figured you might want some.”

“Well, thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s a quiet calm between the two of you.

“This is a pretty killer first date, huh?” This makes Matt laugh, because in his mind, your first date was eating Thai food and listening to music. But this isn’t bad either.

“Well, Chivalry must be dead then, because I didn’t even buy you flowers.” He hums, and you tilt your head.

“I don’t remember you ever buying me flowers.” He frowns at this.

“Well, I’m going to have to fix that.”

And that’s how the afternoon goes. You sit with Matt in his office, eating a homemade chicken pasta and falling in love with him. As you go to leave, he asks you what you have planned for the day.

“I have some errands to run, but I should be home to make dinner.” And for a moment, Matt forgets all that’s happened, and he lets himself believe that you have all your memories of him perfectly intact and no one’s ever made you think otherwise.

You get back to the apartment a few hours later, and just as you’re unpacking your groceries, there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, a delivery man stands with a bouquet of flowers. Your face is warm as you sign off on them.

As you put them in their vase, you notice a note attached to it. You catch yourself grinning as you read his little note, that reads ‘I’ll buy you flowers until I’m old and wrinkly. Real.’

The urge to run back to the office and kiss him overwhelms you.

So you call Frank.

This leads to the pair of you, sitting at a booth in a diner, nursing coffees and toast.

“I hope you didn’t call me here just to complain about married life.” He tells you, making a joke out of the thing that terrifies you.

“No, I just wanted you to sit here talking to a chick with antlers so you can look like more of a freak than you already are.” You tease.

It gets you both laughing. These moments, in between all the nightmares and all of the filmy memories, fill you with a light you can’t quite describe.

“So, why’d you really call me to meet up?” He asks. “I have to assume you don’t just want to chitchat.”

“I think I’m in love with Matt.” You tell him. He raises an eyebrow.

“What? Why does that sound like you think it’s a problem?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You confess. “It’s like I don’t want to love him, like a part of me still believes he’s the bad guy. I know he does.. Besides, I was so awful to him for so long. I pointed a gun at him and he still comforts me every night. What if I don’t deserve this?” You ask. “What if I don’t deserve him?”

Frank actually laughs—Okay, not like a giggle or a belly laugh, but it gets a good chuckle out of him.

“You and Red with that shit—Questioning if you’ve done enough for something good to happen to you. With the ‘Do I deserve this?’ and the ‘Am I worthy of this?” He shakes his head. “All that shit is irrelevant. Do you want it? Do you want to be with him?”

Tears fill your eyes as you realize what that means.

“You and him, you love each other like breathing, and I know you don’t quite get that yet, but it’s the same reason you didn’t shoot him that day. Something in you knows that you love him and deserve his love.” Frank is speaking from experience, because he knows that no matter what he’s done, he knows he deserves one more kiss from his wife.

But he’ll never get that chance.

He hopes Matt does.

• • •

It takes you a long time to make your way back to the apartment. When you get there, Matt immediately stands from his place on the couch and has this look of concern etched across his face.

“Is everything okay?” he asks gently, “Your heart is racing, I just want to make sure you’re safe and—"

“I’m fine.” You smile gently. “Really, I… Thank you for the flowers.” You tell him. His face softens.

“You like them?”

“I love them, Matt.” You confess. “I’ve spent.. So long trying to rationalize everything, sort out the real things from the things that aren’t..” You’re not too sure what you’re trying to say. “I just.. I want.. I want to try. I want to try and be with you, I’m ready for that. I’m ready to be happy with you..”

He hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want you, but he is worried that you’re only saying these things because you feel like you might owe him. You don’t. You don’t owe him anything other than what you want to give him, and he is desperate for you to know that.

“Sweetheart, You don’t.. I don’t need.. I don’t need you to pretend like you want me just because I’ve taken care of you. It’s more than enough to just—”

Matt is cut off by his first kiss from you in eight months. Your hands rest on the sides of his cheeks, and his arms are quickly around your torso. The kiss is passionate but soft at first—Until you push deeper, desperate to be as close as you can to him. Your hand even comes up to pull off his glasses to see his eyes.

Without thinking, you pull away from him only for your hand to come down to the hem of his shirt, going to pull it off.

“Off, off, off, off—” You softly request, and he just laughs, taking your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Stop. Wait.” He says gently. “I just.. I want to make sure you actually want this.. That you really want me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve been reserved for the past two months, rightfully so, but now you want to sleep with me.. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Or something you do just because you feel lonely or bad that I—” You cut him off with another kiss, breaking it shortly after.

“I want you. I want to rebuild my life with you. I want to create new, untainted memories.. It won’t be easy, but I want to be with you.” You confess. “I want countless summer nights, I want you to be there for all the nightmares, I.. I want to give you the same peace you’ve been trying to give me.”

You’re both crying and you don’t quite know why. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold band. He slips it onto your fingers and kisses you again. He holds the hand with your wedding ring on it as he leads you into the bedroom. Into your life together. Into your arms. Where you were meant to be.

The next morning, you lay in the quiet of your apartment, the silk sheets tickling your skin. You focus on Matt’s breathing. He traces patterns into your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, and he takes a moment to answer.

“You.” He says gently. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about for three years.” He says gently. Then, when you don’t say anything, “Our anniversary was two months ago..” You know he misses the life you could have had together.

The life that he had planned out for the pair of you in his head. The life that oh so quietly, he longs for. The one without nightmares, supplemented by the laughter of any potential children you might have.

“I could get used to thinking about you, too, you know.” And it makes him laugh, as you lean up and bite his shoulder gently, before placing a kiss to that same patch of skin. He swats your arm gently before the pair of you break down into giggles.

“In the future, if you ever.. don’t want to do that, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” You tell him.

A comfortable silence fills the air again.

“I’m so happy you came back to me.” He says gently. “I was.. I spent so long worried that.. that we’d spend years just trying to find our footing again. That you wouldn’t get better..” For the second time tonight, you cut off his overthinking with a kiss.

“I love you.” You tell him when you’re finally ready to pull away. The morning light shines into the apartment, giving Matt this glowing effect. He practically shimmers in the golden light, and you just take a moment to commit the look of him to memory.

You try and take your time, studying him. He’s so beautiful this time of day.

“Real or not real?” He asks you softly, as one hand snakes up to your hair, his fingers gently running through it.

You lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips.

“Real.”

[livingemkayde]

ch vi. bruises

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter six of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. ooof okay where to start, smut unprotected p in v, mentions of bruising from sex? fighting like actual real life fist fighting, rough but sweet sex, grinding, lowkey some cockwarming?? kinda unwanted kissing, tommy being annoying and somewhat overbearing, and unwanted touching, but not sexual. caroline. just, caroline. because she deserves her own warning for this one. no use of y/n.

summary: everything comes to a head at tommy's birthday party.

a/n: this is genuinely the longest part/chapter thing i've ever written so enjoy. tommy is really annoying in this one, im still deciding if he's going to have a redemption arc. sorry this took so long. as always, i love you all so much. MY TUMBLR LITERALLY SHIT ITS PANTS WHEN I TRIED TO EDIT THE TAGLIST SO IM SORRY IF YOU GUYS GOT TAGGED LIKE 400 TIMES.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused.  “Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.”  But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen. 

You can almost remember it like it was yesterday. 

A few weeks back, the first time you invited Tommy in for a drink after dinner. Sarah was asleep back at the house, Joel was doing — god knows what. The sun was set, the mosquitoes were probably out, and there was a quiet, even maybe too quiet silence when Tommy pulled up to your house. 

He had asked what the rest of your plans were for the night. 

You had said nothing much, not knowing it was an invitation — he stayed till 2 a.m. that night. 

But it was okay. Because he made you laugh and you enjoyed his company. He was interesting. Tommy told you about how he never wanted to go into contracting in the first place. About his broken bones, his all time biggest regrets, how he was smitten with his old high school flame turned mean cheerleader until graduation. 

It was the first time you ever realized he was — well — his own person in the sense. Not just Joel’s younger brother. But Tommy. Tommy Miller. 

Maybe in another life Tommy might’ve even been good for you. A perfect pair — a match. He wasn’t mean and brooding and he certainly didn’t have 12 years on you. 

And he made you smile. And he was genuinely—genuinely interested in your life. Your post grad prospects, college, books, and even how you played soccer just like Sarah when you were younger.

But when he leaned in that night, closer to you than ever before. You froze. Like genuinely frozen, and you couldn’t even dare to look down to his slowly approaching lips, let alone how his arms caged you in. 

“First kiss?” you remember him asking.

You had just stuttered out nonsense, not wanting to breathe too hard and run the risk of pushing your lips flush with his. 

“I — um —” you nervously laughed. You couldn’t even think—not in the way you should—not when the first person that comes to mind when Tommy says, kiss is his brother. 

He had leaned in closer then—more tentative. Like you were a scared deer in headlights or a frightened kitten and he was inching forward, wanting to move closer. 

But you didn’t really do — anything. 

And he had pulled back a bit, gave you a teasing look and a ruffle on the head and continued with the conversation.  

In all honesty you were scared that he might've been inching forward to kiss you. The small fear settling through a slightly erratic heartbeat and nervous laughs. 

You were scared then, but can’t really remember the last time you’ve felt this kind of fear. 

Hurt, discomfort, shock, maybe. 

And although it was being quickly replaced with anger, you don’t remember this feeling — this kind of fear. Not even the kind you get from watching a scary movie — where you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins and then dissipating when the screen goes dark, and the lights turn back on and all you have to worry about is if the scary nun from the big screen will appear in your dreams. 

You can remember all the last times you’ve gotten mad, sure. Mainly at the Miller brothers. 

But never fear — well, not until right now. 

Because whoever that Tommy was is definitely not the same guy staring back at you right now, with a bruised fist, an angry look swirled with hurt marked permanently on his face and one emotion that you can definitely place behind his eyes — jealousy. 

_

Some hours earlier. 

You spread colorful tablecloth over the mismatched tables in Joel’s backyard. The string lights are being hung up, Joel stands on a ladder towards your right, the sound of a hammer echoing through the small backyard. 

You pick your phone out of your back pocket, checking the time. You also find it in you to check Tommy’s texts again, but no other messages have been sent since last night. You look down at your phone — at the messages — and sit against one of the tables. 

Yesterday: 

You: can we talk in person?

Tommy Miller: I’ll see you tomorrow at the party?

You hadn’t seen the text until this morning, when Joel and you found it in yourselves to get out of bed, have a shower, and start setting up for the party. So when you saw it, you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat. 

You’re a bit nervous at the prospect. You did not want to talk to him at his party—honestly just trying to text him so that the air would be cleared for the party. 

But his words echo in your mind. 

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.” 

You let out a cursed sigh. 

Tommy had to know. Right?

If he knew the dreaded ‘no’ was already braced on your lips he had to know. That this thing between you and Tommy would never work out. That you’re way better as friends. That it would ruin everything — the dynamics of it all — that you were smitten with his brother and you guys had just slept together for the second time without Tommy’s knowledge and that—

“Alright?”

Joel stands in front of you, dipping his head to see a scowl marked on your face. You quickly — maybe even too quickly — forget about the messages, hell, forget about Tommy. 

Because Joel looks handsome. He’s always handsome, you’ve thought since the moment you met him at the bar. There’s something intoxicating about him, his arms, the curve of his neck. His brooding nature does him justice — a uniqueness about him that makes you want to uncover more, learn more, see more. 

You remember last night—very vividly through small ebbs and flows of sleep. The moonlight seeped into your skin as you both rolled around in gray sheets. 

It makes your cheeks heat a bit at the thought. 

You remember everything. Every little detail. You don���t think you’ll ever forget. 

You tuck your phone back into your pocket. 

“Yeah, sorry. ‘S just…” you trail off, he nods his head in understanding, coming closer to you. 

He braces his hands on either side of your body, caging you in. Your faces study each other’s mere inches apart. 

“Tablecloth givin’ you trouble?” Joel teases in a soft whisper, looking down at your lips, then back to your eyes. 

“Funny,” you say with a grin and run your tongue over your lips. 

“You need help, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” Joel’s small smile plays on his lips for a fleeting second. You miss it as soon as it’s gone. 

“Duly noted. But I’m not the one who’s been hanging up string lights for the past hour.”

He pats your ass a bit, teasing you and pushing out a playful sigh. 

“Perfection takes time.” 

Joel’s beginning to dip his head to kiss you, but you find it in you to bite back.

“And yet the left side’s still lower than the right,” you whisper, pulling your head back slightly. He turns quickly to look at the fence, but gives you a harder slap on your ass when he realizes the lights are, in fact, straight. 

Joel chuckles, pushing off from the table, you turn back around to continue fixing the cloths, and look back at him over your shoulder. 

He’s looking back at you too. 

“You’re killin’ me,” he says, and you smile to yourself when you turn back around. 

_

You look around the backyard and check your phone for the millionth time since the party started. You can hear Sarah running around, screaming a bit while jumping into the pool. But your brows furrow when you find that Tommy still hasn’t texted you. 

You spot a tuft of red hair swinging through your vision and spin to find Janet Baker squeezing through the crowd. 

“Janet!” you say, approaching her quickly. You’re happy to see her—Tommy didn’t invite many people you’re familiar with. 

“Hey, Doll. Thanks for the invite!” she says, pulling you into a quick hug, but when she sees the look on your face, her mouth drops into a frown. “Sweetie, you okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry. I—Tommy didn’t…I don’t really know anyone here,” you reply while sheepishly looking around the small, bustling backyard. It’s the kind of feeling you try your best to avoid. Like everyone is in on some secret joke that you have no clue about. Or everyone knows each other and you can’t even put faces to names because you don’t know any names—like right now. 

“‘S fine—I’m happy to see you made it,” you let out a defeated chuckle. 

“‘F course, baby. Charlotte really wanted to see Sarah,” she nods towards the girls in the pool, Charlotte’s red hair looking strikingly similar to the woman standing in front of you. Janet seems to be on her second drink of the afternoon, you saw her tipping back a solo cup out of the corner of your eye earlier. 

“What are you drinking?” you ask her, nodding at her cup. 

“Someone brought a fancy lookin’ wine I popped open,” she says, giving you a sly smile. “Why don’t we get you a drink? You’ll like this,” she says, you don’t have much time to react, she’s already pulling you towards the drink station. 

You both settle into a comfortable silence, looking around the backyard while Janet pours your drink. 

“So,” she says, giving you a wink. 

“So…” you echo, sending a nervous laugh her way. 

“Who’s that girl,” she nods towards Caroline while passing you a cup, you take a big sip, Janet fills it back up to the top without a second glance. 

“Caroline,” you say looking at her and Joel. They’re talking to some other people, a small group of them congregating by the barbecue. 

“Caroline…” Janet tests out on her tongue, willing you to continue. 

“Caroline—Joel’s,” you can’t help but chuckle. “date. I guess.” 

“That bother you?” she says, finishing the bottle of wine while the two of you walk back towards the edge of the pool so she can watch Charlotte and Sarah. 

“Nope,” you say, and it’s not a lie. Sure, it might be a little weird to see another woman clinging to his arm after yesterday. But you know now. And that’s all that matters. 

“Joel can—” you laugh again, “—Joel can do what he likes.” 

Janet stops walking suddenly. You tear your gaze away from Joel and look at her with a confused furrowed brow. 

“Sweetie…” she says with eyes that look way too knowing for your comfort or peace of mind. 

“Janet…?” you say, though her gaze just intensifies. 

“You mean to tell me it happened since I last saw you?”

Your eyes widen, a shocked look crosses your face and you quickly try to replace it with a bad mask of confusion. 

“W-what? I—” 

“Don’t lie to me, doll,” she warns, and she looks like she really means it. 

“Janet…” you say in a not as effective and halfhearted warning tone back. 

“Don’t you dare,” she wags her finger—a final warning. 

What has gotten into you and why can’t you find it in yourself to lie to this woman?

“Don’t te—” she gasps, “Janet, I mean it. Do not tell anyone.” 

She shuts her half open mouth and makes the my lips are sealed motion across her face. You laugh while stealing a glance at Joel. 

“I told you,” she whispers to you in a hush, joining your eyeline towards Joel.

You stay silent for a moment, just taking everything and everyone in—but at the same time just looking at Joel. when you finally break the silence you’re a bit shocked at your question. You’ve never talked about Joel like this with someone who actually knows him. Everything has always been a secret—like you were supposed to be ashamed or something. You never were.  

“How did you know?” you ask, hushed. You’re not sure she’ll even hear you. 

“Would love to say it was intuition, sweetie—but—it was him. It was written all over his face.” 

_

You stayed with Janet for the better portion of the hour, all through silent peaks at your phone to see if Tommy had texted you. When it was getting to the point where people were getting curious, you’ve just about had your limit. 

You approach Joel quickly, you don’t miss Caroline’s stunned face but you really can’t be bothered with—that—right now. 

“Joel?” you ask, pulling at his arm a bit, he excuses himself from the group and follows you towards the backyard's edge. 

“Where the hell is your brother?” you whisper.

“He’s not here?” he asks, the same hushed tone also pushing through his voice at your question. 

“No! I called him, but he’s not responding,” you pipe back while pulling out your phone. Though the lack of notifications from Tommy—just as before—tells you enough. 

You both look at each other for a fleeting second. But the same worried look is probably etched on both your faces — fuck. 

“This fuckin’ guy,” Joel mutters under his breath while pulling out his own phone and then putting it up to his ear. 

You pace around the small area you and Joel are in, observing the unfamiliar faces. 

“Nothin’,” Joel grovels, taking a peak over the fence towards the street to see if Tommy's truck has pulled up. “I’ll try ‘im again — just — you should mingle,” he says, still looking down at his phone. 

“‘S fine. I don’t really know anyone here anyways,” you say absentmindedly, looking through your phone for Tommy’s contact and putting your phone up to your ear. 

You hear yelling and shouting from the entrance to the backyard. You slowly lift your head, reluctant to tear your eyes away from frantic texts. 

You spot him, in all his glory. Tommy Miller. Two hours late to his own birthday party—though he looks like he couldn’t care less, hugging old friends and new ones. He spots your eyes in the crowd and you can’t even be bothered to smile, a frown is almost permanently placed on your face—Late to your own birthday party? 

He nods his head toward the house, a silent invitation to talk when he’s done greeting the guests. You nod back and turn to Joel, Tommy turns to everyone else. 

“He’s here,” you say, pulling Joel out of his own phone, he does a double take towards the entrance and huffs out a groan. 

“Goddamn idiot,” Joel says, running his palm over his eyebrow. 

“I’m gonna go—” you say, nodding towards the house, towards Tommy. 

“Yeah. Alright,” he replies, though he looks a bit concerned and unfocused, looking towards Tommy, then back to you, “You need me, ‘m there.”

“‘M not telling him about us on his birthday and It’s Tommy, Joel.” 

Tommy—harmless. 

Though Joel’s look sends a sweat to your palms for some reason. You don’t know why he’s worried. 

It’s Tommy. It’s fine. 

Right? 

You hope as much as you make your way through the crowd. You beeline for the house and slip past the sliding doors into the kitchen where cups and bags of chips lay open and equally sprawled. 

You can hear the door slide open and shut again behind you as you try and salvage the mess. 

“Baby,” Tommy says, rounding the corner and coming close to you, “‘M sorry. The concrete guy was supposed to drop off the shipment tomorrow but he came today and needed a signature—” 

“Tommy, it’s okay,” you almost have to will yourself to say. You also have to remember it’s his birthday. 

He looks down. 

“‘S okay. It’s your birthday. Happy birthday,” you reassure with a small smile. 

“Looks great out there,” he says, fiddling with his phone in his hand. 

“Thanks.” 

You’re suddenly a bit nervous. You hadn’t really thought about everything that had happened when Tommy being late to his own birthday party was blanketing all the drama. But he’s here now, and you have no idea what to say. Maybe it would be better to not say anything at all—not address the fact that he asked you out, or you and Joel. But that guilty gnawing feeling eats you alive the longer you stand in silence. 

“Joel helped you?” 

“Yeah. I went shopping yesterday and dropped off the stuff here then we set it up this morning,” you say, nodding towards the backyard and then your car parked out front. 

“You went shopping on your own?” he almost sounds offended. 

“I wanted to go on my own.” 

Tommy doesn't look convinced. 

“Really, T. ‘S fine,” you brush off, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing your arms. He stares at you from the other side of the kitchen. 

“Caroline here?” he asks, a hesitant look on his face as he switches from looking at the ground to your face—almost like he’s looking for a reaction. 

“She’s out there somewhere,” you nod, keeping a neutral face masked with a small smile. “You should mingle. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright.” 

But he doesn’t move, he just keeps fiddling with the case on his phone again, looking down to the floor—his feet. 

“I— you said you wanted to talk in person.” 

Shit. 

You both look at each other, waiting. A game of cat and mouse. 

“It can wait, T. Enjoy your party,” you say, gesturing to the crowd outside. 

“Is it about—is it about what happened Friday?” 

“Tommy,” you say, almost warningly. This situation is shitty enough as is. You really don’t want to spoil everything—even if there’s nothing left to spoil. 

He doesn’t say anything. His thumb fiddling with his phone is the only sound coming from inside the kitchen. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue. Almost unbearable. You crack way quicker than you’d hope to last. 

If he wants it like this, at his own birthday party, then so be it. 

“Fine. I just—I wanted to…” you scramble for words but they jumble in your mind. 

“I’m—” you fall short again. “About what you said. What you asked me. I don’t think that it’s…something I want. I’m—sorry.” 

“You don’t think it’s something you want? Or you know that—” 

“Tommy,” you say, giving him an awkward stifled laugh. Like he’s being childish with his response. Because he is. “I don’t—I’m sorry.”

He turns away from you suddenly, towards the window above the sink and just stares at it for a long time. You can see his chest puffing. When he finally turns back around, it’s different. It’s the Tommy you know. 

“‘S okay,” He says. 

Maybe he’ll get over it quickly—you hope. 

“Are you okay? I’m—I mean I hope that this doesn’t change anything since I’m still gonna be around—” you lift your arm up to run a ragged hand across your forehead and through your hair, you don’t even notice that your shirt riding up, “— I just don’t want it to like—” 

“What is that?” 

Your eyes snap to Tommy’s, confused. You think he might be looking out the window again but his eyes trail to you, but lower. Like he’s looking at your hips—because he is. You’re still confused for a second, before examining your shirt, looking for stains or anything out of the ordinary. But you don’t find anything, your top spotless. 

“What? I don’t—” 

“No—” he takes a couple quick steps forward, into your space, you try to find his eyes—yours blown out with confusion and shock but his are trained and laser focused to your waistline. 

“What’s—” he tries to pull up your shirt, you shove him back out of reflex. “You’re hurt, what happened t’you?” 

He almost pins down your hands to see your skin under your shirt, dipping his head to look at your waist and hips and you suddenly know. You know there are hand shaped bruises littered across the skin of your waist, turning it deep purple. Handprints that match Joel’s exactly—almost like they’re burned into you. You saw it this morning. It’s why you didn’t bother to put on a swimsuit and decided to keep a top on instead. 

What’s even worse is you know Tommy saw it too. 

“Tommy!” you’re yelling now, fighting his grip. 

You slip up, unable to get a good hold on his wrist like he now has on yours and he pushes the shirt up to reveal the bruises. 

“What the hell is that?” 

“Fucking—get off!” he backs away with your second shove, a different kind of look on his face. “Jesus,” you huff out, yanking your shirt back down. 

You both stand there. A pregnant silence between you. You can almost hear the gears turning, he stares blankly. Putting it all together. Like maybe you’re not hurt, but you wanted it—wanted it from another man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he might keep wishing someone hurt you so he didn’t have to feel so betrayed. So when he asks, it’s like he doesn’t want to admit that it’s true—the quiet possibility of someone else in the picture. 

“Who,” he says slowly, pointing down to your waist, “did that?”

“Tommy—” you say, but footsteps cut you off, you both turn your head to the entrance of the kitchen as Joel rounds the corner. He looks out of breath and his eyes flicker from Tommy and his finger pointing down at your waist then back to you. 

“We alright in here?” Joel stands, hesitant, his fingers play with the bottom hem of his shirt in an anxious way. Like he doesn't know what he’s just walked in on—you’re not entirely sure you know the answer to that either. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy so you stay silent, waiting for the man in front of you to respond. 

“Yup,” Tommy replies, too angry to be believable. 

Joel looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. Not out loud. 

No. You try to say with your eyes. We are definitely not alright in here. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Joel says, almost a whisper. You’re still not sure if he’s talking to you or Tommy. You can't take your eyes off Tommy’s gaze. From the looks of it, Joel’s question makes Tommy more angry and way more confused. 

“Joel,” you say, trying to look for any indication in Tommy’s face that he’s not going to go bat shit crazy. “‘S fine. We’re okay.” 

But Joel doesn’t listen. Because he’s Joel Miller and maybe you can’t see it right now, but you can hear the concern dripping off his tone—an indication that he won’t ever leave. Not now. So he stalks towards you both and you try to shake your head no, and he doesn’t listen. 

He stands beside you, putting a flat sprawled palm on Tommy’s chest and silently tries to push him backward. But Tommy breaks first, pushing Joel’s hand off him, staggering back while looking at you and Joel.

And maybe he gets it then, you think. Because Tommy lets out a deep chuckle—like you’ve got clown makeup on. Like he’s never seen anything more funny. He’s a lot of things but he is not fucking stupid. So he looks past Joel to your eyes. To your face, almost covered—ridden—in guilt and he can see everything. 

“Really?” Tommy says, not sparing Joel a glance. 

“You put your fuckin’ hands on her?” Tommy says, almost at a whisper which makes it all the more intimidating. You can see Joel’s back puff, his anger rising. But you also know Joel would never hurt his brother. Not on purpose.

But you’re scared. You’re really fucking scared in this moment because Tommy is entirely too worked up and you know whatever excuse Joel is going to say won’t help. 

“Easy,” Joel says, his voice cutting through the tense silence. 

You’re sweating. The hot summer of July in Austin getting to you. They stare at each other for a long time. Like at the kitchen table, like when you all first met. But this time, Tommy breaks, and his eyes flicker to yours, he takes a tiny step to the side so he can see you better. 

“Is this why? Is this why you’re fuckin’—jesus, fuck. ‘S this why he went to get you a tire?” you stand, you can’t really say anything, your stunned figure doesn’t move.  

“He hurt you,” Tommy breathes out, his voice almost breaking if he wasn’t so angry. You shake your head. 

You both know that the bruises aren’t from hurt. That they’re far from it. 

“He didn’t,” you reply. 

“No, no, baby. He’s—you’re—” Tommy almost looks like he can’t believe it, shaking his head, switching between you and Joel. The look you give him shuts him up, and makes him back away, until Joel unclenches his fists and relaxes his shoulder a fraction. 

“I didn’t really want to tell you like this, I was—” 

“Fucking my brother?” he bites back, interrupting you. 

That makes you a bit mad. You’re not in love with his attitude, nor his tone. It’s not like he has any right. It’s not like either of them do. 

Joel moves to speak but you do it first. 

“Don’t give me that,” you say, almost laughing, though the situation is not funny, not in the slightest. “We’re not dating, Tommy. We never were.” 

Caroline strides in at that, looking at the scene unfolding in the kitchen. She stops short of the three of you, her mouth slightly agape. You roll your eyes, fucking perfect. Let’s just bring the party in here instead. You’ll give it to the woman. She has impeccable timing.

“Needed some napkins…” she trails off, holding the empty napkin stand in her right hand up so everyone can see. “I—I can come back.”

“Did you know?” Tommy turns to her, gesturing to you and Joel. 

“Tommy,” Joel says from in front of you, a warning. Tommy ignores him. 

“Did you know?” he asks again, Caroline stares back shocked. But she does consider it, rolls the idea around in her head before speaking. 

“Them two?” Tommy nods. “Her?” 

Okay. You really don’t love that tone. You silently chastise yourself for thinking she was nice at the bar when your first instinct was that she was a bitch—because she is. You were waiting for her snarky undertones or spoiled takes to show. You knew it was coming, you just didn’t know when. 

“No, ‘f couse not.” She’s almost laughing, like it could never be possible. It hits you harder than you’ll ever admit. “She’s — you’re…young,” she says, looking at you. 

Tommy gestures to you and Joel like he’s saying, well believe it, because it’s true.

Joel moves faster than you can comprehend. He’s got a tight grip on Tommy’s arm. He probably doesn’t even have to say anything, Tommy knows what’s happening. But Joel warns him anyway—again. 

“Quit,” he growls. You’d guess this might be the point where Tommy usually backs down. But this situation is far from usual. 

“Or what?” Tommy bites back. When Joel doesn’t respond he continues. “You gonna mark me up? Leave me all black and blue?” 

Tommy doesn’t stop there, you try to move past Joel but he stops you, turns his head to you slightly, a hardened look in his eye.

“Oh, I forgot you’d probably like that, huh?” 

Joel remains frozen for a couple fleeting seconds before whipping around and pushing Tommy into the back counter. You’re rooted to your place, you don’t even care that Caroline is still in the corner, holding the fucking napkin holder in the air. 

“What’d you say?” Joel barks in Tommy’s face. 

“Look at her fuckin’ stomach, dude!” Tommy throws the words in his face, pushing him back slightly and making a vague gesture in your direction, it causes your feet to move towards the brothers before you can think. 

Joel backs off then, sneaking a tiny glance at you out of the corner of his eye, like he really is thinking about the marks he left on your waist. He had seen them this morning, ran his fingers over them too, and saw how the notches matched the curves of his fingers perfectly. But you kissed him, and told him it was okay. That it was more than okay. Maybe even whispered that you liked it between muffled groans. So when a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes it makes your heart break more than it already has. 

“She said no,” Joel says, looking back at Tommy. A tense silence follows—like you’re not sure if Joel is going to continue or Tommy is going to bite back.

“Get back to your party,” Joel growls after a while. You bite your lip.

Tommy looks at Joel with unwavering eyes. His glance turns towards the window where he can see the bustling crowd—can almost hear the laughter. Then he looks down to his hand, outstretches it, undoes his gnarly fist, and when it curls back up again, you finally bite. 

“Tommy!” you say, moving closer. But it’s too late. Joel’s figure knocks to the side and his hand instinctively grabs his face, his nose, his eye. Maybe the worst part about it all is that Joel doesn’t even look remotely surprised, or that he wants to fight back—he just stays there, a little hunched over when you yelp in shock and Tommy groans, shaking out a now bruised fist. 

“Fuck,” you almost yell, your body doesn’t know what to do between bending down to see Joel’s face and looking at Tommy—at his face—because you don’t recognize him. 

Joel almost huffs out a laugh, and to shut him up, to get him to bite his tongue, you speak again. 

“Okay. We’re done here,” you say, pushing Joel towards the entrance of the house, towards your car. 

And Caroline is there, pushing Tommy towards the couches and for the first time, you’re grateful for her. 

_

The ride back to your house is silent after a short and quick bicker about who can drive. You think Joel might want to sit in the driver's seat so you can’t see the quickly forming bruises on the left side of his face but you make a decent argument, enough to settle him in the passengers—looking out the window. 

You send Janet a quick text, asking if she can watch Sarah for a few hours. Brother emergency. Janet replies back and says the girls haven’t gotten out of the pool since you left. It makes you smile a bit, despite it all. 

When you park in your driveway, you hop out quickly, Joel following closely behind. He waits there, right behind you, when you pull out your house keys, and waits when you unlock the deadbolt and waits when you push through the door. 

“Make yourself at home,” you say, nodding towards the couches and dropping your keys in the bowl. 

You disappear into the kitchen and brace your arms on the counter, your head hanging between your shoulders. You let out a deep, ragged breath and try to control your heartbeat. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, shaking out your wrists, grabbing two advil from the bottle on your counter, a glass of water, and peas from freezer.  

Joel’s sitting on the loveseat, looking down at his hands. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either. He just takes the water and pills from your hands and swallows it silently. You extend the peas to him, he thinks about it for a while and when you shake them again, huffing, saying—just fucking take them. He finally obliges. 

You get a good look at his cheek when he turns to set the water down on the table and you have to stop yourself from gasping. 

“Joel,” you murmur, reaching for him, bending down, he stops you, grabs your wrist, then grabs your hand. But he’s gentle. Not like Tommy. Joel’s gentle. 

“‘S fine,” he says, and winces when the peas touch his face. “‘M fine.”

You settle in between his legs, looking down at him. He’s got one hand on his face, holding the peas, and the other, wrapped around the back of your thigh. He doesn’t even want to look up at you. It breaks your heart. 

“‘M sorry,” you say quietly, his hand on your thigh trails upward. He plays with the hem of your shirt and lifts it enough to take a peek at the purple that lies there. 

He doesn’t say anything, just sits there, running a gentle, ghost-like touch across the bruises. 

“He — saw it. I don’t…” you look down to your stomach. You can see the shape of his fingertips so clearly. It’s no wonder Tommy reacted how he did. “It was an accident.”

He doesn’t nod. Doesn’t shake his head. He tosses the peas onto the table and pushes the cotton of your shirt up further, to where he can see all of it—all the black and blue there. 

“Are you mad?” you whisper, hesitantly, as he stares at his own hands, his own branding. 

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Don’t be,” you say, begging, “Please.”

“He did that cause—,” you breathe out, taking his chin in your pointer finger and thumb and getting your first good look at his cheek, “—it’s-’s my fault, I should’ve—”

“C’mon. Don’t do that,” he says, cutting you off, nipping your apology in the bud, “I should be the one who’s sorry, this is — I hurt you.” 

You shake your head. 

“You know that’s not—you know that I—” you stifle a short chuckle. 

“That you what?”

You let out a couple hot breaths, looking down at him, the purple around his eye slowly taking shape. 

“That I liked it.” 

Joel bends forward then, and you gasp. The dull scratch of his beard is the only thing keeping your eyes open. He trails his hot breath across your stomach, and leaves gentle kisses on your sides, on your bruises.

“Joel,” you mumble, and you hate how your voice sounds so breathy, maybe even desperate. You tangle your hands in his hair, grasping at the nape of his neck he pulls you down, closer, so you’re slotted in his lap, straddling him. Joel pulls back and looks at your face, brushes the fallen hair from your eyes. 

“I meant what I said,” you start, he furrows his brow, “Still—mean it.”

From the look in his eyes he knows what you’re talking about. The words you slipped into his ear last night.

‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you.

“But if this is—if Tommy—” you cut yourself off, correcting your words, “If I messed it up—” 

“Sweetheart,” he says. Your heart pulls, you almost put your hand on his cheek, but you see the rising skin and settle for his shoulder. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He pulls you down further, so you’re flush against him. He studies your eyes and rubs at your waist, your hips. It sends a little fire down between your thighs. 

“‘M here—‘M…I’m right here,” he mumbles, and shakes his head. Like he’s telling you no to any silent thoughts of doubt that might be floating around your head. 

And then he pulls your head down to kiss you. 

It’s needy, and hot and everything you want at this moment. He’s everywhere and you can feel his growing arousal between your legs. You both needed this—you think. After everything, after—fucking—Caroline and Janet Baker and Tommy Miller. You both needed each other so bad that when you grind down onto him he lets out a little desperate groan into your mouth that spurs you on. 

Joel slips his hand under your shirt and finds the hardened peak there. He pinches it and rolls it between his fingers, it sends your hips forward and suddenly he’s sitting up, and shucking your shirt off. 

He grabs your hips and moves you against him, your most vulnerable spots grinding against each other. Giving you both blown out eyes and puffy lips and panting breath. 

“Sh–it,” you gasp when your shorts catch on your clit perfectly. 

“Pretty,” he says, grasping at your tits, at anything he can find while you grind against his length. “fuckin’—pretty like this.”

You claw at his belt and before you know it, he’s lifting you up so you’re on your knees and he’s pulling his pants past his hips. You get the memo and take your shorts off, tossing them behind you. When you sink back down onto his lap, you can feel his cock slip between your wet lips down there. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you say, gliding along his cock, soaking it. You can feel all of him now—grinding along his hardness—the girth of him fitting perfectly between your swollen lips. 

“Angel,” Joel pants out, through sloppy kisses. You look at him. He’s got a desperate look on his face. Like he couldn’t wait just like you. Not even to get upstairs to your bedroom or to get all his clothes off. Like he’s been wanting this all day. Just like you. 

You move up and reach down, feeling the wet mess you’ve both made down between your legs. You find his cock, hard and wanting, and position it at your entrance. The head sinks past your walls, enveloping it somewhere deeper and you both groan at the feeling. 

You sink down on him slowly, you’re by no means physically ready to take him. But you can’t wait any longer. He kisses you, and down to your neck, making it easier to ease yourself down onto him, and when you finally reach the end, and you’re seated fully in his lap, you both gasp. 

Your walls clench around him, eliciting a quiet groan from Joel somewhere near your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head, your forehead drops onto his shoulder. You both just sit there, waiting for the other to make a move. 

It’s kind of like a game. 

See how long you can both relish in each other’s warmth — the first person who moves loses. 

Your walls tighten again and he lets out another groan, “Jesus,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck. You’re slowly adjusting to him, relaxing around him. It makes you shudder. 

You realize he’s not really touching you. He’s got his hands on your thighs, but they’re just resting there. Not squeezing or gripping your hips like you know he so desperately wants. Maybe he’s scared, you think. From everything that’s happened today. From the consequences his touch barred. 

But you didn’t care about the consequences. You liked his touch, needed his touch, just as much as he needed something to hold him back down to earth, anchor him to you—in you. And afterall, you just want him to feel good. Feel better. 

“Touch me,” you gasp out, reaching down to his hands. 

“Am touchin’ you,” he forces out, panting near your ear. His thumb absentmindedly pushes down on the skin of your thigh a fraction harder and then eases up, like he’s saying this is the best I can do. 

“No, Joel,” you moan, rock your hips a little, moving first, moving frantically and suddenly, “touch me,” you say into his neck, reaching down to usher his hands to your hips, your waist, you. 

Joel gets it then, the silent permission. The it’s okay, and grips you harder, but not as hard as you know he would like. It’s good enough for you because he moves your hips, rocking you up and down onto his length—having enough of the senseless grinding. 

“Fuckin’ good—” Joel groans, your hands fly to his shoulders, his hair. “You feel good.” 

Your legs grow tired, he can tell. You try your best, but you’re sweaty and tired and fucked out, and when he hits a spot deeper inside you that makes you moan out, louder than before, and you almost collapse onto him. He ruts into you a little. Meeting you halfway. Fucking you deeper—maybe even a bit faster. 

Your legs ache and you feel a sheen of sweat wash over both of you. And Joel’s eye is fucked up, his cheek too. Tommy is sitting back at the house—or god knows where—with a possible broken hand, Janet baker is watching Sarah instead of you or Joel, Caroline is still back at the house, and everything is a fucking mess, but it’s so right. He feels so right. He’s — he’s right. 

You’re close then, the coarse hair on him inching you toward your climax. He knows, he can feel it from the inside. You don’t even have to say it this time, your question for his permission. He can see it already braced on your lips but he shuts you up with a kiss, a sloppy one, where he sticks his tongue into your mouth and your walls tighten around him again. 

“Yes,” he says with a moan into your mouth, “yes, yes—ah.”

“Fuck,” you say tightening around him, becoming breathless and boneless, but Joel holds you up. He always does. 

He grips you tighter, like how you know he wanted to, and you relish in the feeling. His thrusts become desperate and you brace yourself on the back of the couch so he can rut up deeper, chasing after his own orgasm. You can’t really breathe. Not when he’s everywhere. 

“Shit,” he says, rocking into you. 

Joel cums hard, holding onto you, wrapping you up in his arms as he groans somewhere near your temple. You let it spread through you, the mess of it all. He keeps you locked in his arms, even when you think he might pull away. 

He finally pulls you off him, when he says it becomes too much and you sit on his lap, playing with his curls. When you both settle from your panting you can’t help but ask.

“What are we gonna do?” you say quietly to him. 

“I dunno,” he grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. The bruise on his face is turning an ugly shade of purple. And the peas have gone warm, creating a small puddle on the coffee table. And your phone keeps buzzing from the entryway. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, running a hand on your thigh. 

_

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[waywardducks]

I just can't stop thinking about the idea of y/n and Jason having a meet-cute in a bookstore! It's so cozy and sweet. I’ve had this idea in my head for days now.

CW: Fluff, a bit OOC, mentions of fighting and of Jason’s death, Gn reader

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

Jason was fighting with Bruce, which meant Jason would not be going to the manor for the next few weeks. At least not until one of the men decided to give in and apologize. Which would be a while this time. Usually, when it is Jason’s fault his brothers will talk him into apologizing and help him recognize where he was wrong. But this time Bruce is wrong. Meaning no one, not even Alfred will be able to get this man to pull his head out of his ass. Maybe they could if Jason fought hard enough, and threw enough hard-hitting insults to breach the stony exterior that is Batman. But Jason doesn’t feel like breaking his own heart right now, so he’s opting for the long run, waiting (im)patiently as far from Batman as possible. Bruce will come back and apologize eventually when the silence and lack of his second son start feeling too close to when Jason was dead. When memories start to surface grief begins to overwhelm the man.

For now, though, Jason is content to sit in his apartment and read. The only real downside is that the book he had been reading was currently still in the manor’s library. Technically Jason could just ask one of his siblings to retrieve it for him, but he’s still hurt from his fight with his father and doesn’t feel like doing something vulnerable, like asking for help.

So he heads to the bookstore. He’s been to this particular bookstore a million times. It’s cozy, nestled on the edge of Blüdhaven, close to the border. Sometimes Jason would head to Dick’s apartment afterwards, since he was in his brother’s neighborhood. The shop has a little cafe area, indoor and outdoor seating, a covered patio with a couch that Jason enjoyed sitting on when it was raining.

A bell chimes his arrival as he entered the small shop.

“Welcome in!” An older woman greets from behind the counter.

Jason gives the woman a smile before making his way to the Shakespeare section. He began browsing the titles, trying to find the exact one he was looking for.

The bell chimes and again, but Jason paid it no real mind, only acknowledging that a third person was now in the store.

“Oh! Y/n. How lovely to see you again.” The woman at the front exclaims.

“Hey Mrs Goodmen! How’ve you been?” The newcomer asked.

“Just perfect, thank you for asking dear. What brings you in today?”

“I need a new copy of a book I love. I let my friend borrow it a year ago and I don't think I'm getting it back.”

“Well, you go find it, let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Of course, thank you!”

There was silence again as the person began browsing aisles. Jason smiled as he found the book he was looking for. He pulled it off the shelf and began flipping through the pages.

“Oh, how funny.” A voice startles Jason out of his skimming and he looks up. It was the person that had been talking the lady.

“What's funny?” Jason asked, closing his book.

“That's the book I was looking for.” They say, pointing at paperback in Jason’s hands.

Jason smiles. “Oh, that is funny.”

“Great minds think alike.” The person jokes. “I'm Y/n, by the way.”

“Jason. Nice to meet you.”

“You too!”

Jason watches as Y/n grabs a copy of the same book off the shelf.

“I've read this like 8 times now. I'm planning on actually annotating it this time. It's just so good. Oh! I should check to see if they have that new book I wanted to read.” Y/n mumbles.

Jason thinks it's cute how distracted they got all of a sudden. They themselves were cute. The oversized sweater they’re wearing, the concentrated look on their face as they search for the book they need, even the way their hair looks like they just rolled out of bed.

Jason pulls a small notebook out of his pocket and writes his name and number on it quickly. He doesn’t normally do this sort of thing, maybe it was because this person had similar taste in reading. Jason isn't sure, but he did know that this person is cute and he wants to get to know them.

“Are you a Shakespeare fan?” Y/n asks all of a sudden.

Jason chuckles. “I suppose you can say that. Though I suppose I'm more of a classical literature fan.”

Y/n smiles a bit wider at that. “Me too! I especially love Greek mythology and Gothic romance. Oh! They do have it! Perfect, I've been so excited for this one!” Y/n plucks a book off the shelf and does a triumphant little twirl.

Jason takes note of the book in her hand. “Biography of Mary Casset?”

Y/n shows Jason the books. “Yep! She was an impressionist painter whose main focus was on the relationships between mother and child. She also used traditional Chinese printing methods. She was a hardcore feminist and never stopped even after facing backlash for being a female artist in a male-dominated industry. I adore her.”

Jason can't help but stare at Y/n as they gushed over the artist. The way they ramble and are so passionate about it has his heart beating a lot faster all of a sudden.

“She sounds pretty fucking cool. I might need to grab me a copy of that as well.” He says. “Oh yeah, said you wanted to annotate this book,” he lifts the book that brought them both here in the first place. “We should get together sometime, compare notes maybe?”

Y/n blushes. “Yeah. That sounds like a lot of fun.” They smile brightly.

“Awesome! Here, take this.” Jason hands them the paper with his number on it. “Text me, we’ll make it a date?”

Y/n’s blush darkens. “Of course! I, uh, maybe a cafe or something? I’ll, umm, I'll have to check and see when I'm free.” They stammer as they carefully place the paper in their bag.

“Perfect. I'll be waiting to hear from you then.” Jason winks before turning and walking to the counter. He checks out and makes his way back to his apartment.

⋆ ✩₊˚ ʚ♡ɞ ˚₊✩⋆

What do y'all think? I tried to keep the book nondescript but then went I ranted too hard about Mary Casset. My bad. I hope that my little explanation at the end there makes up for how ooc Jay is. Let me know if you want more! Feel free go request and give a prompt as well! I love writing and I want to do more of it!

Also, I apologize for any mistakes. I have major Dyslexia and Grammarly doesn't always fix everything. I hope you Enjoyed! 🌼🐛

[sugurusluts]

Zuko x mercenary!reader -part one

Do people still read Zuko x reader fics?

Mostly for my own amusement bc Zukos adorable- longer than my usual stuff! ♡︎

Warnings: none

————————————————————————

They had followed our little gang around the world, so it wasn’t hard to imagine they’d track Aang here, but they didn’t seem in any mood to strike.

I couldn’t help but feel defensive of the kingdom, even if the two were doing nothing but serving tea. I worked as a mercenary for whatever town seemed to need assistance. Despite not knowing any form of bending, I had connections, and that made me an asset.

Having worked around this place more times than I could count, I knew almost everyone. Most of everyone around town were good people, the type to invite you over for dinner just for giving them a hand in the fields.

Knowing someone like Zuko was around them made me uneasy, that was until Iroh approached me.

“Ah, a mercenary! What mercenary wouldn’t want to help a poor frail old man?” He whined dramatically, from behind me.

“Iroh” my hand tightened on my sword, I assumed there was an unspoken rule that neither group would bother eachother if they truly wanted to live in peace. Maybe I misread this dynamic?

“Good to see you too Y/N, you can losen your grip, im not here to fight you. I couldn’t care less about the Avatar, you know that”

I tilted my head in confusion, what else would he be here for? I couldn’t bring myself to believe he was now a hard working humble business man.

“Would you mind talking to me for just a minute, I’ll make it worth your while” he grinned, holding out a few gold coins he scrounged out of his pockets.

I caved from curiosity, following him as he walked me through a crowd, far away from his new little shop, leading me to a small alley.

“So..why did we have to go to an alleyway for this? Are you gonna mug me?”

“No such thing, I actually have a job for you”

I scoffed, the fuck made him think I’d want to take work from him? I turned on my heel, disappointed at the lack of information he gave me.

“Zuko’s lonely!”

I stopped in my tracks, turning back to Iroh, dumbfounded.

“Zuko’s lonely?”

“Painfully so, you know how hard it is to watch my nephew be such an introvert at his age?”

I rolled my eyes, “what does any of this have to do with me exactly?”

“Well, you could possibly help the poor boy out, couldn’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m asking you to ask him on a date”

“…”

“…”

Jesus fucking Christ he can’t be serious right now.

“You want me to ask the guy who’s tried to kill my friend more times than I can count on a date?”

“Precisely!”

“…Iroh, I’m not a prostitute, I’m not asking Zuko out for cash. He wouldn’t even agree to it either, he’d recognize me.”

The man sighed, pulling out a fabric bag filled to the brim with gold coins. God Zuko was a lost cause.

“Lay on the charm, and maybe he will!”

He dropped the bag in my hand, holy shit was it heavy..

“…fine”

I never thought I’d end up asking Zuko, the fire lords son out on a date, but here we are.

I sauntered into the tea shop, greeting locals as I made my way to where Zuko was pouring.

Carefully filling the cup, he didn’t notice as I leaned against the counter he was behind. I rested my chin in my hands, looking him up and down.

It has been quite a while since I saw him last, longer hair suited him.

When he finally noticed me, he took a double take, stumbling while trying to hold the cup steady.

“…Y/N..?” He asked almost timidly, as if he didn’t want to believe I was standing infront of him.

“Hey, you remember my name, aren’t you sweet?”

He went quiet, still staring at me as if he was seeing a ghost. He pushed past me, going to deliver tea to a table. What a good little worker.

He returned to where I was standing, starting to wash dishes, ignoring my presence.

“What’s your name?”

“..what?”

“Your name, you’re not still going by Zuko here are you?”

He flinched as I used his real name, his eyes flicking between mine and his dishes.

“..Lee. Why are you here?”

“Can’t I visit my favorite prince?”

He stiffened at the praise. “…are you planning on fighting me?”

“No, the opposite actually”

He furrowed his eyebrows in a surprisingly cute fashion.

“Going from Avatar hunter to waiter must be a real boring change of pace for you, huh?”

He didn’t answer, still washing dishes.

“How about you let me make it more interesting for you?”

“..what?”

“I’m asking you out Lee”

He didn’t say anything to that. He simply blinked comedically, his eyes wide.

I gave him time, I wasn’t going to rush him. Iroh did not have the same curtsy.

“Ah welcome to our Shop miss, what tea do you fancy?”

“..I’m not the biggest fan of tea, I’m here because I fancy something else”

Zukos face turned an impossible shade of red, I thought steam may come out of ears if I kept this up.

“Oh? And what are you referring to?” Iroh couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“Your nephew of course”

“Oh! Well a night out couldn’t hurt, right Lee?”

He whipped his head back and forth between his uncle and I in disbelief.

“Uncle, you know who this is don’t you?!”

Iroh studied me up and down.

“A humble mercenary looking for a date?”

“You’re exactly right” I smiled knowingly at Iroh, despite him technically being my enemy this exchange was a little fun.

“I don’t see why not Lee! Aren’t they cute?” Iroh gestured to me as if this was completely normal.

“Yeah Lee, aren’t I cute?” *i lean over the counter, invading his personal space.

Poor thing was absolutely floored as he whipped his head between me and Iroh trying to figure out if he was the weird one for being suspicious.

“If this is some sort of ploy to-“ he glares me, but it’s hard to take him seriously with such a red face.

“-I’ll pay for dinner, alright? All you have to do is have fun and look pretty. How about I come back at 7?” I didn’t know I had this much game until now. Why wasn’t I using this power for good before?

“The Shop will be closed by then, no reason to decline” Iroh looks up at his flustered nephew. How long would it take for the poor boy to crack?

“..fine..if you’re not here by exactly seven, I’m not going”

What a brat.. this was going to be an interesting date.

“I’ll be on time, don’t worry your pretty little head. I have business to attend to, I’ll be seeing you Lee” I wink at him, amused at how..affection starved he seemed.

He spun back around, his back facing me, but I could see the blush on his face starting to reach his neck..

Iroh was going to owe me much more than a bag of coins for this.

[twilightsagasworld]

Paul x Reader

Imagine

Requested by @littlemissvenom0

It disgusted you to a deep degree, and Leah had warned you long before you started dating that Paul was a loose guy, never being able to fully commit to something.

It wasn’t that your relationship even felt real. Paul was incredibly distant and avoided doing anything that put you two in the same space for too long. Like he was some royal who couldn’t even entertain the idea of mingling with poverty.

You were again reminded of this when you and Leah hung out today. The weather was cloudy and the remnants of earlier rain was still around, making everything wet. You and Leah were out in the forest near the river border of the tribal grounds.

“I don’t understand why you just don’t break up with him, (y/n). You guys haven’t even acted like a real couple for months”

You sighed while rolling up your vest sleeves, shifting your position on the damp clump of rocks you two were sat on. Distant laughter was in the background, coming from the Black residence.

Leah’s head turned to you, waiting patiently as you puffed your cheeks before letting the air go.

“Yeah, I know, I know… “ you took a pause, tossing a pebble down to the river below you, “I geuss I just hope he’ll come around before I do decide to break it off”

Leah rolls her eyes, “I can’t believe you’re holding on to some slim piece of hope that he’ll maybe turn into some prince charming or whatever, its not”

You frown slightly, “You obviously don't think I should''. Your cousin gives you an exasperated expression, “All I see is him flirting with every girl within a few feet of him, while you stay back all embarrassed all the time, it's getting frustrating and I keep having to listen to him think about it everyday. You have to do something about it”

You look away, biting the inside of your cheek as you listen to her talk. Truth be told you knew your relationship with Paul could only go one of two ways, either you break up with him, or he miraculously turns from his ways and realises how much he actually loves you, if he even does love you.

“You’re right Leah” you stand up, pulling your cousin up with you. “I think it’s time I have a serious talk with him”. You two make your way to the Black residence in a matter of minutes, just as the rain comes pouring down around you.

You and Leah made it just in time to see Paul getting it on with a brunette you absolutely didn’t think you’d see again. “Isnt that Jessica?!” You hear Leah from a few feet behind you. You couldn’t believe it, Paul knew you didn’t like Jessica at all, she was as pretentious and bratty as they come and seeing Paul make put with her under Billy’s porch roof just triggered something in you.

Your breathing got heavy, a heat like you’ve never felt before started spreading though your veins, Leah’s eyes got wide and she called for Sam who came rushing out of the cabin, Quil and Embry on his tail.

“Hey! (Y/n), calm down!”

Sam was standing a bit back. You couldn’t focus on him right now, steam was pouring off your skin and you winced and yelped as you felt your skin and bones move inside you. Leah rushed away from you just in time as you recklessly shifted into a medium sized salt and pepper toned wolf. You stumbled as you threw yourself off balance and landed disgracefully in the muddy grass. No one moved, Paul had already started making his way down when Embry held him back.

You didn’t wait to see or hear what was going on as you stumbled and ran into the forest, Leah’s hollering voice yelling for you to wait and come back.

•••

“ I thought she didn’t have the wolf gene in her?!”

“ I know, im pretty sure everyone here thought so”

The wolf pack, along with Billy Black all crowded Billy’s small living room. The rain was still going hard and you had left the grounds 10 minutes earlier. Sam and Billy were in a heated talk.

Paul threw his hands up,and pushed himself out of the chair, “I’m going after her-“ Leah grabs Paul’s arm, “No way! You think she wants to look at your ugly face right now? You’re the reason she turned !”

Paul got in Leah’s face, but she wasn’t intimidated, “What did you just say?!”

“Enough!”

Sam’s authoritarian voice broke them apart and a silence filled the room, albeit tense. Billy cleared his throat and spoke to Sam, “I think you should be the one to go look for (y/n), she trusts you, and you’re the only one who could handle another accident”

Paul huffed and stormed out, no one bothered to stop him.

•••

“(Y/n)!”

Sam had been searching the woods for hours, but it was futile, he didn’t think she’d have gone so far from the reservation.

Sam shifted into his wolf form as a last attempt to find her.

He stood still in the dark forest. Listening.

Help

His ears twitched to the front.

Paul

Help

Its so cold

Sam didn’t hesitate now as he ran forward towards the mountains. Wherever (y/n) was, she was in trouble.

It wasn’t long before he reached the base of a mountain, rain falling hard around him and mud splattered through his wet fur. He stuck his nose to the ground as he took a deep sniff, letting the aromas and smell of the forest drift through his senses until he latched onto a sweeter scent, perfume. He followed the scent, leading closer and closer to a rushing river where he finally found her.

(Y/n) was back human now, and unfortunately in the nude as far as Sam could tell. But he acted quickly, coming to his senses as he rushed to (y/n), laying half in the river and on the riverbank. As gently as he possibly could while in his wolf form, Sam pulled her completely put of the river. Her body had turned from a tanned olive to pale and sickly. He brushed past the fact that she was bare and pawed at her to wake her up. Moments later her eyes fluttered open slowly, she looked sluggishly up at him and struggled to push herself up as best she could. Sam laid flat to allow (y/n) to slide herself onto his back.

•••

Leah rushed out of Billy’s house as soon as she heard Sam’s thoughts. The rest of the pack behind her.

They all gathered outside as Sam came jogging through the treeline, still in wolf form. A pale body hung onto him and he came to a still infront of the group. Paul ran forward and scooped (y/n) from Sam’s back, pulling her protectively into his body as he and Leah entered Billy’s place.

Billy motioned for them to take (y/n) into Jacobs old bedroom as he rolled to a linin closet and took out heavy blankets to give to Leah. “Thanks Billy” Leah took the pile and pushed Paul out of the bedroom, he looked offended but didn’t push it and went back into Billy’s living room where only Sam was waiting, now human and dressed in jean shorts.

Billy sighed, “Leave her be for now, go home” Sam nodded and moved to leave, Paul stayed sat, Billy stared pointedly, “You too, Paul”. Paul stayed put, leg twitching, “No way, not until she wakes up, I have to see her open her eyes Billy”. Not wanting to make a scene Billy let Paul be.

•••

(Y/n) didn’t wake up that night, or the next day.

It took a week for her complexion to return.

And when she did wake up, Paul was by her side, tear uncharacteristically streaming down his face as he grabbed her hands and kissed them.

(Y/n) frowned, “Paul?… where am I?”

“You’re at Billy’s place, you were asleep for a week, I thought… “ Pauled rubbed his eyes, “Forget it, how do you feel?” He let go of her hands as she sat up, she popped her back, no longer bare as Leah had gone to fetch clothes for her.

Paul stepped back, guilt covering his face. “Whats that look for Paul?”. (Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, sluggish and confused.

“Im so so so sorry (y/n)…”

Her eyes went wide. This was a Paul she had never seen before. She kept quiet.

“I screwed up by doing what I did, but it was because I was scared”

“Scared?” She gave him an umimpressed look.

He nodded, “Believe it or not, I thought I could push you away because I was scared of what I was feeling for you, I never expected it to happen with you”

She frowned, standing up slowly and steadily, “What? What didn’t you expect Paul?”

His words froze her in her place.

“I imprinted on you (y/n)”

And apparently that was all it took for her to collapse back on the bed, tears coming to the front.

She struggled to find the words, but Paul seemed to hear what she was thinking.

Paul spent the better half of the night explaining to (y/n) what happened, why it happened and why he did what he did. He got a scorching red hand print on his cheek by the end of it, along with a heavy scolding. But not forgiveness. (Y/n) explained that she couldn’t forgive him right off the bat, although his intentions were understandable, he did wrong by her and to her by what he did with all those women, especially Jessica.

She needed time.

And Paul gave her that, without a word against it.

•••

It took (y/n) 3 months to fully forgive Paul.

Another 4 months to agree on dating.

And all the while Paul was respectful of (y/n)’s wishes and compromises.

Leah gave him an earful telepathically and verbally almost every chance she got.

But by the end of the year, they were happier than they were before. Although their relationship was far from perfect, and they argued still, they were happy. Paul no longer went out of his way to apite her and make her jealous and (y/n) put her foot down alot more.

Leah held a grudge against Paul a bit longer but eventually gave in.

Sam and the pack helped (y/n) integrate into the wolf pack and train her.

For now, all was well.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Thank you dear reader.

And thank you to littlemissvenom0 for requesting this.

[the-s1lly-corner]

I got an idea from the child reader request.

Like the same wolf in sheep's clothing concept but like FULL SWEET TO DARK PERSONALITY.

Wanna hear?

So basically child reader is like cute and innocent at first sight but IS A TOTAL DEMON, Having a very dark sense of humor, Sometimes out of nowhere walk up to someone of the gang and threaten to gouge out their eyes while they sleep, they are always with an cute expression but turns out that they like to cause chaos and havoc just like Jax but in a more creepy way.

For example, SOMEHOW reader is caught hanging from the ceilling scaring the fuck out of gangle just because its fun. Or staying in the dark waiting for someone so they can jumpscare them.

Basically child reader uses their cute-kid as an advantage to scare others off.

TADC x child!reader who is a menace! (platonic)

wasnt quite sure what to title this so!! some segments may be shorter than others since im still trying to get a hand of writing/coming up with ideas for certain characters (cough cough gangle) (i love her sm but shes so hard for me to write idk why) hope you enjoy! majority of this post is just me tormenting the cast TToTT

CAINE:

oh my god you kind of remind him of bubble but more... flkmddlvm

makes a time out rule when you keep making threats to the other circus members, that behavior is not family friendly!

he might even consider trying to go into the code and censoring your common phrases as well as some other words, if he has the capabilities for that

still tries to be a dad to you, though, wants to be a good role model and guide you in the right direction for the sake of everyone else

the first time you say something... morbid to him he just

slack jawed, stares at you before shaking himself back to reality and just

bro is astonished he was not ready to hear that today, let alone hear it from a small child

POMNI:

you know how in the other post with a child!reader i mention that pomni is vaguely uncomfortable around kids since she knows they can dish out some real cruelty

take this idea and multiply it by 10x

actually looks like that one sad spongebob meme with the big eyes and tear when shes put in charge of keeping an eye on you during an in house adventure

meek attempt to get you to behave

not much to say here imo, since its like an amped up version of the last post :O

JAX:

makes a joke about how youre already entering your edgy phase, he now has to watch his back lest some of his digital fur be shaved off

fear does not come close to describing how he feels when he discovers that you somehow found keys to some peoples rooms. he hopes you dont have a key to his room

and he thought he was hot shit, but no some random kid makes him fear the consequences of his actions

is this his punishment for his constant bullshit? what did he do in particular to deserve this?

instinctively looks up at the ceiling when he enters a room to make sure youre not about to drop on him

congrats, youve instilled fear into the funny rabbit

RAGATHA:

the 'nightmare kid' thing some babysitters go through at least once in their life, but instead of tantrums and such its just you talking about how you sometimes tear apart the dolls that came with your room. to the doll person

very uncomfortable by a lot of the stuff you casually say, even more so because its coming from a kid. though i think she would be uncomfortably be talk like that in general

SWEARS that one day shes going to blink and youll suddenly be right next to her or within her proximity

like on one hand she wants to try to guide you to be less dark, like caine, but i think she would need someone to back her up because she cannot get the image of the torn up dolls out of her head

KINGER:

poor man

like even if the things you said were empty threats, he would be scared shitless

if he isnt already in his fort, hes retreating to it the second he sees you around

kind of funny since kinger is in his late late 40s and youre a kid and hes terrified of you

anyways

less of a discomfort thing and more so scared that youre going to go through with the things you say

he walked into the common area one day and saw you literally crawling across the walls, he was with gangle when he saw it. you see his irises of his eyes shrink

doesnt even bother going to his fort, which is under where you currently are

he just

slowly

backs away, he can find refuge in his room... unless you have a key to his room

ZOOBLE:

less discomfort more annoyance with zooble, i think that while she would find it funny when a kid swears she finds people talking like that to be cringe; kid or not

the only one who isnt really scared of you. sure you threaten to disassemble them constantly and hide their pieces across the grounds to assure they can never be whole again, but they're just internally cringing while you try to make them turn away

in a weird way you two create an odd dynamic where you just go on and zooble just halfway listens, you kinda just talk at them

like while caine tries to be your dad, and ragatha tries to be.. something.. zooble is like a weird 'friend'

probably has the most potential to become a friend and get you to chill, but thats just based on my experience

like if its an attention/reaction thing, zooble isnt going to give it to you, which kind of. ruins the point of it for you, and you just

stop, or at least tone it down over time

or maybe thats just me seeing zooble having the potential to be an older sibling figure

GANGLE:

the gif is gangle when you get your hands on her

i understand that she cries easily, but like, you have probably made her cry at least once either on accident or on purpose

i think shes one of the few characters out of the cast who would probably start avoiding you for the sake of her emotional state, but she would feel bad about it since at the end of the day you're a kid

refuses to go anywhere near you when her comedy mask is broken, because otherwise shes a glum mess

you know how in poppee the performer, kedamono's mask sometimes just. pops off when he gets scared or surprised (well it happens regardless of expression/mood but yk)

gangle does that when she sees you LITERALLY CRAWLING ON THE WALLS LIKE A BUG

how are you even doing that

she doesnt wanna know, actually

"imma tie you up double knotted style" *high pitched crying*

[tiredlilguy]

Hii! I hope you’re doing well in college :)

If it’s alright to do x reader, can you write about having a romantic relationship with the flags? I rlly liked your hcs so I thought to make a flags request ! Here’s some questions to help you out

-Can they cook? - Are they affectionate? -Cuddling, big spoon or little spoon? -Are they good at comforting you?

If you do not want to do this request, you do not have too! Please take your time I don’t mind!

ASDLFJAHLSDKJFHLAKDSJFH i had to pick this one up immediately despite me having so many drafts. im boutta eat this shit up, the flags are actually literally my favorite. ty for requesting this (ノ・∀・)ノ this is very long... it's 6 pages on my document right now...

pairing(s): The Flags (separately) x GN!Reader cw: slightly suggestive for iceman and chuuya's, not proofread desc: romantic hc's with the flags, the real question is though, can albatross cook? (spoiler: no, he can't)

Pianoman:

he’s always busy, but strangely enough, whenever you ask, he’s always free

for some reason, whenever you’re in the room you’re like… the only thing on his mind and he forgets whatever he was doing before

I can see pianoman being a huge sweetheart for some reason

like… He’s the leader of the Flags, but at the same time he kind of acts like a care-taker a little bit

he just cares very deeply for his comrades and you, of course

his love languages are quality time and acts of service, but he likes to receive physical touch

this man is touch starved, so please give him a little hug when he’s stressing over deadlines and being hard on himself (since he’s a perfectionist)

speaking of physical touch: he LOVES back hugs, receiving them and giving them

he’ll be looking over at some copies of fake notes that he was working on with a frown on his face and -oh- there’s his sweet little bug squeezing him so much that he completely forgot what he was doing (he doesn’t care though, he loves you)

he’s only really affectionate when you both have a moment alone, but he won’t complain if you want a kiss or for him to hug you for a moment

when you two are alone though, he likes to give you surprise kisses or hugs; tends to be really clingy sometimes depending on how tired he is, but if you want space, he’ll listen to you

I feel like sometimes though, if he does initiate PDA, he likes to tease you: if you’re sitting on his lap, he’ll put a hand on your thigh, but then it’ll slowly trail up a little bit higher when he thinks your not paying attention, if he puts his head on your shoulder while you’re talking to someone, he might leave butterfly kisses on the side of your neck

he likes to tease you for sure, and isn’t satisfied until your a tomato…

nicknames for him… I think he’d use nicknames that are a little dorky because he likes to embarrass you, saying: “love bug” or “hot stuff” or “steady” (really old ass, from the 50’s nicknames)

“ You know, (Y/N) likes to call me studmuffin,” he brags to Chuuya, nudging the poor boy on the elbow.

“ Please leave me alone.”

I had to make the stupid reference… im sorry LMFAO

but when he’s feeling a little romantic, he’ll call you “honey”

he’s definitely good at comforting you, considering that he literally drops everything just to pay attention to you

will study every detail on your facial expression the moment that you walk in the room, but if you’re in a bad mood he won’t push you

gives you a back hug and a small kiss on the side of your head and asks if you’re ok and if you want anything

listens if you want to vent, or will leave you alone if you want. Anything you need? He’s there to take care of you.

just want to cry and lay down for a bit, that’s fine with him. He’s not the best singer, but he tries to hum to you

can he cook? He can, but I can also see him just preferring to order take out

at the end of the day, he tends to just be really tired, so cuddling up on the couch with you and some take out is enough for him (if you cook, even better, but he might want to help because he feels bad)

he’s a big spoon

when I saw that question I was like: How does this man sleep? In my brain, he’s a side sleeper, and he’d prefer to be the big spoon

when he’s drifting off to sleep, he likes to whisper sweet nothings to you

though, does he sleep? No not really, you have to drag him way from his desk and if he doesn’t budge just kiss him on the forehead and tell him to join you (he’ll end up joining you like 5 minutes later)

in conclusion, sweet bf, but also busy and tired (please give him forehead kisses)

Lippman:

Lippman is romantic as fuck

like you cannot tell me he’s got the rizz, Doc literally said he has a silver tongue (what else that tongue do *cough*)

he’s always holding your hand in his

his hands are very warm and gentle, and when he holds yours, he’s holding it very gingerly, not tugging too hard and only squeezing your hand to comfort you

love languages are gift giving and physical touch, he loves receiving words of affirmation

being an actor with may fans abroad, he hears a lot of praise from others, but none of their words mattered nearly as much as yours do

like you could just be complimenting him on how he styled his hair one day, and it’s like… the only thing he’s talking/thinking about

early on in your relationship together, he was quite shy actually: didn’t really initiate affection because sitting next to you made him feel nervous, but one day you grasped for him hand and now he just never let go

like I’m telling you, if you two are at home, he will not let go of your hand (even when he’s cooking)

speaking of cooking, he’s an amazing cook, but he’s also (similar to pianoman) busy as hell

he often likes to cook with you, enjoying your presence and closeness as you both work together to make a nice meal

he’s fine with PDA, but only if it’s PG… like he gets shy kissing you on the lips in public, but he’ll hold your hand (because he loves your hands :) )

if you initiate PDA, he won’t complain though

he’s far too shy to tell you no, and he also enjoys making you happy

seeing you happy makes him happy

nicknames for you are old romantic, but not in a dorky way. He likes to use nicknames in a different language sometimes: “mon cherié”, “cariño”

he also definitely uses “darling” and if he’s in a more excited mood, he calls you “sunshine” or “my flower”

“ There’s my pretty sunshine!,” he’d smile, as you’d run up to him and give him a hug.

comfort from him is >>>

he seems shy, but when he gets worried about you, he sort of goes into mom mode

he’s a little pushy, but if he notices you’re upset, he stops immediately

will hold you if you’re upset, and he has a sweet voice, so hearing him talk or sing will calm you down immediately

after comforting you, he’d take care of you for the rest of the day

you have work to do at home? No, you don’t, he’s going to make you tea and tell you how well beautiful you are

I can see him being very strict about his sleep schedule

he cringes at the thought of himself having wrinkles because he slept the wrong way, so he tries to go to bed at a certain time and wakes up at a certain time (mafia orders and job stuff are an exclusion though)

sometimes he goes to sleep earlier than you do, but he doesn’t mind if you interrupt him to crawl under his arms

for him, he definitely prefers to face you his sleep: he can see you face when he wakes up and nothing will make him happier

if he’s really tired though, he might like burying his head in your chest as your massaging his head with your hands

he’ll let out a soft groan before falling right to sleep

he doesn’t mind holding you either though: you being the little spoon or resting your head on his chest

likes to kiss your eyelids before he goes to bed ;;-;;

soft romantic bf, can be shy, but he tries this best to make you happy

doesn’t care just as long as there’s a smile on your face

Iceman:

Iceman is very much a lone wolf, but with you it’s “I literally hate everyone else, but I will give the world to you”

he can and will kill for you, rest assured you are very protective

though despite his rough exterior, he’s a kind man

honestly, he doesn’t really care so much for PDA, but he gladly accepts any form of affection you give him

he’s most likely not the one that initiated it, but the only time’s he does is if he’s talking with the others: he often gestures for you to come over to sit on his lap (and you do so, because who would say no-)

or if he doesn’t initiate PDA, it’s usually out of jealousy or to show people that your his

like let’s say you’re talking with someone for a bit too long, he’s probably going to slide a hand on your waist and giving you a soft kiss on the cheek, telling you that you both have to leave (you got no where to go, he’s just wants you attention instead-)

this man has the best kisses, like if anything those are what make your heart flutter the most

it doesn’t matter what kind of kiss he gives you: one of the cheek, a short peck, etc, it still makes you feel somewhat flustered and a tomato (which he grins at)

he doesn’t seem like the type, but he likes to tease you in more of a subtle way.

You were putting on a pair of pants and adjusting them at your hips: zipping up the front zipper and button. You then reached over to the side to find a belt, only to realize that it wasn’t there. Suddenly, hands slipped around your waist and you realized that Iceman was doing you belt for you.

“ These pants compliment your waist quite well,” he whispered gently into your ear. It almost sounded like a bit of a growl. You felt your chest flutter as you let him do his thing. Though before anything else happened, he buckled your belt together and slipped his hands away, walking away as if nothing happened.

nicknames for you are simple. He doesn’t want to do anything more ambitious and he feels proud that he can call you simple nicknames: “love” and “babe” or “baby”

those nicknames make you feel flustered either way… so I mean

He notices you trying to reach something that was on the top shelf, but stops you. Getting you off the counter, and reaching for it himself,” Let me help you, Love.”

he’s the kind of man that lana del ray writes in her music *cough*

he LOVES YOUR WAIST: he’s always touching it

sometimes he’ll place a gentle hand on the side of your waist while passing you, he’ll take any chance he can to pick you up by the waist (and sit you down on the kitchen counter *cough*), slow dancing with his hands resting just a top your hips while you both listen to his old records

he’s just… always touching ur waist all the time

likes to do a lot of the heavy work for you like if you’re moving something large, or carrying bags

he only does it because he knows you’re entirely capable, he just doesn’t want you to ever lift a finger if he’s around

love languages are physical touch and acts of service

he’s a sweet comforter, but he most likely doesn’t say much

he’s always listening and he’ll do whatever you ask of him, but he just prefers actions over words

will hold you until you fall asleep if you were crying, he wipes your tears too :(

will not feel rested until your completely asleep next to him

the way he holds you is definitely you laying on his chest with your ear to his heart while he’s lying on his back with an arm slung around your waist

definitely does that really sweet thing where he’ll caress your side in circles

he smokes before he goes to bed, but if it bothers you, he’ll stop (or just smoke outside)

always makes sure that before he leaves for work that you’re awake (even if you’re half-awake), happy, and with a cup of tea/coffee

conclusion: lone wolf kind of lover aka everything that I want *cough*

Doc:

I feel like in a romantic relationship to him, there are very few moments where it seems romantic to the public eye

though in between you two, I can see it being very shy love

he tends not to initiate much affection, but you can quite literally see it in his eyes that he’s begging

at first, it seemed rather creepy and you thought he didn’t like you all that much, but in reality he was just silently asking for your attention

Doc is the kind of person that stands… really really close to you, so much that you’re a little bit uncomfortable and when you turn around and look at him, he smiles

he doesn’t initiate PDA at first, allowing you to show affection

he loves receiving head pats from you, it makes him feel proud of himself

though, when he started getting comfortable between the two of you, he likes to lay on you

like I’m talking… laying on your thighs, head on your shoulder, he likes to lean on you

since he’s rather sickly, he tends to be really cold quite often, so to him, you’re his personal heater

isn’t one to kiss you on the lips unless he’s feeling really passionate: a kiss on the cheek or on the forehead is enough for him

usually prefers to receive affection then give it, BUT he’s working on it, and for now standing next to him is enough

love language is very much quality time

he just likes to sit next to you, even if you’re not touching or saying anything

the silence with him is always comfortable with him, doesn’t matter what you’re both doing

the nicknames that he uses are really simple, but weird, yet strangely sweet like “happy pill” or “bug”

As he enters your room, he crosses his arms as he looks around for you. “ Hey, where’s my happy pill…WOAH-!”

You quickly tackled him into a hug. Though not hard enough for him to fall over. Doc let out a small smile as you hugged him albeit a little roughly.

his comforting doesn’t really come out very often

for example: let’s say you get injured

he’ll turn into a completely different person, rather serious and focused when he’s treating you

but if you are in pain, he’ll be holding onto you gently as he’s trying to patch you up

he hushes you if you wince from the pain

can he cook? Nope, and he doesn’t really try to either

because he’s a doctor, he tends to be busy and doesn’t really have much time to take care of himself

so either his subordinates deliver food to him, or you deliver him food (which he’s very grateful for)

I can see him being the kind of person who sleeps on his back, or on you… like from earlier

he’ll very easily fall asleep on your lap if you hand is touching his hair, but to be honest he’ll sleep anywhere

this man does not sleep, so if you offer your shoulder for him to lean on, he’ll most likely knock out

he takes naps anywhere… sleeps anywhere, so it’s quite hard to get him to sleep in a bed

anyways, if you’d like to sleep next to him, he usually lifts his arms so that you can nuzzle into his side as he lies on his back

if you’re too scared to be near him though, he might just hold your hand as you both fall asleep next to each other

he likes watching you sleep though, so sometimes he’ll just prop himself up on a pillow with a book while holding your hand in his other

in conclusion: he’s a quiet and sweet lover

Albatross:

PUPPY LOVE PUPPY LOVE PUPPY LOVE

he quite literally follows you every where

you’re going to the store? Ok, he wants to take you for a ride on his motorcycle. You’re going to go get some coffee at that cafe downstairs? He’s already throwing on his jacket. You’re just getting up to go get another snack? Well, he’s not going to let you leave his arms, so up he goes with you.

he’s always hugging you, doesn’t matter what you’re both doing

greets you with a hug, says goodbye with a hug, will just… hug you if you’re standing within proximity of him

I can also see Albatross taking his little furry jacket vest thing and putting it on you, as well as his sunglasses

no, you cannot argue with him, he’s going to do it anyways if you’re both having a casual moment together

as you can see from just now, he LOVES PDA

he loves to receive it, loves to give it

he’s always holding your hand, or waist, or has his head on your shoulder or on top of your head if you’re standing in front of him, is always hugging you

once again, no you cannot argue with him, he will probably cry, you haven’t tried to argue with him though… but you have a feeling that he would cry

sometimes you tend to forget that he’s behind you, and someone will end up pointing it out (usually Chuuya… the other Flags are used to it)

he lets you braid his rat tail and doesn’t take it out until you do, and you only take it out if you want to redo it

love languages are physical touch and quality time, he loves to receive physical touch back (please hug and kiss him, he enjoy it even if it’s a small thing)

can and will take you out for his midnight drives and shenanigans

once dragged you out of bed so that you could both go to the beach and run into the water (you were both still in your night wear, but seeing him laughing and smiling made you happy too)

he likes driving a lot faster than normal just so that you can cling onto him, his makes butterflies go absolutely HAM in his stomach

nicknames for you are cutesy, he doesn’t really like traditional nicknames and sometimes they remind him of Lippman and it makes him cringe

he likes to call you “Dumpling” or “Marshmallow”… maybe he’s just hungry, I don’t know

“ Dumplin’, can you pass me the wrench that’s in that toolbox next to you over there?”

speaking of wrenches, he feels happy whenever you visit him at his garage

you can just sit there and listen to him talk for hours on end while he fixes things up

he leaves his toolbox next to you on purpose just so that you can hand it to him

I can imagine that if you hand him a tool and he’s laying on his back under a car on one of those rolley cart things

instead of reaching out for it with his hand, he’ll quickly roll up and take it from you, but not before swiping his stained hand on your cheek and giving you a quick kiss

he’s just silly… and he likes to give you little form of affection

DO NOT LET THIS MAN COOK OH MY GOD

he may be great at cars and boats and planes, but do not let him cook

he will somehow find a way to burn the kitchen by just touching the pan with the stove off

though despite being a shitty cooker, he’s a big foodie

he loves to eat literally everything and tries new things because he heard a review

if you bring him to a new restaurant, he’ll be taking photos of his food and be reviewing it as he eats it

I can see him sleeping sprawled out on the bed, if you join him, he’ll unconsciously cling onto you like a magnet

he’s a pretty deep sleeper, but he’s always looking for you in his sleep

if you leave, he’ll whine and try to look for you even if with his eyes closed

in conclusion: he’s very much in his puppy love era, and his face is always red when he’s talking to you… he’s a blushy boy around you

Chuuya:

he’s very much a tsun, so it might be quite hard for him to get close to you, or even show affection

though, just know that despite how much he acts like he doesn’t like your affection, he recretly loves it

he fell first and harder mind you

he treats you like literal royalty behind closed doors though

Chuuya’s not really one for PDA, and he’s not going to initiate it under any circumstance

the only reason is because he has a tendency to want to continue to show his rough exterior out in public

he can get kind of awkward if you initiate it, but will relax into it after a while

though, when he greets you in public he’s a gentlemen: he’ll even kiss your hand and lead you places by the hand sometimes

though that’s about it

behind doors though, he’s… so clingy

bike the moment that you close the door, he already has his arms around your waist

if he kisses you anywhere, it’s on your neck, and he does it in the most dramatic way possible

he’ll take one of your hands in his as he’s behind you and he’ll let out a short breathe on your neck before kissing gently

don’t get him wrong though, he still loves to kiss your lips

if anything, he’s addicted to your taste

love languages are gift giving and acts of service

I just know this man will literally get you anything just to make you happy

expensive jewlery? No problem, baby. You want that coat that’s over a thousand dollars? It’ll be in your closet in a couple of days.

this man is loaded so… (MAKE HIS POCKETS HURT)

he definitely does a lot of things around the house if he’s not busy

the moment that he’s home, all house chores as his now and if you argue with him, he’s going to sit you up on the kitchen counter and uh… yeah.

anyways, he likes to help around the house when he can: if you made dinner, he’s doing the dishes. Even if he made dinner, no, sit down, he’s still going to do the dishes

he simply just doesn’t want you to lift a finger and wants you to sit pretty on the couch and enjoy yourself for a moment

speaking of cooking, yes… he can cook and he’s REALLY good at it

he had no former way of teaching himself other than wanting to find a new hobby, and oh my god if the dishes that he makes aren’t literally amazing

he enjoys cooking dishes that go well with his wine depending on what he felt like drinking from his collection

nicknames that he uses are simple and easy, but they get to the point. He’ll use nicknames like “doll” or “sweet stuff”; not as simple as ice man, but he likes them

He wraps his arms around you as you were cooking dinner,” How was your day, doll? Whatcha makin’?”

I can see him comforting a lot similar to iceman

he’ll listen quietly to literally anything you ask

if you want to be held, he’ll lay down on the couch and hold you in his arms as you’re laying down on top of him

will use his ability to make you both float away from the surface for a moment: something that he used to do that always calmed him down

he likes to caress your hair, so let him when he’s trying to comfort you.

if he’s sleeping with you, he’s definitely a spooner and he is the big spoon

he snores for sure, but he never loosens his grip if he’s holding onto you

sweet boy (-w-)