#mentally foggy and overwhelmed

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 23]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.2k

ao3 link

Matt’s eyes flutter shut as you smooth your thumbs over his forehead. The urge to press forward into your touch is nearly overwhelming, but he controls himself. Your fingers run down his temple and to the apples of his cheeks, oh so gently rubbing sunblock into his skin. He doesn’t remember the last time he used the product, but his sweet Minnie demanded he wear it, and who is he to deny his daughter on her birthday?

You are in complete Mom mode - focused on making sure all his exposed skin is covered - so you don’t realize how intimate you are being with him. He wants so badly to reach out and touch you back - to hold your waist and rub your arms and feel you against him. It is far from the first time he’s felt this and mentally repeating the Lord’s Prayer helps him keep his thoughts from straying. 

Especially when your fingers dance down to his neck. 

He may or may not have fantasies about you pressing your hand into his windpipe while riding him. He may or may not have finally given into his mother’s pressures about talking to the new priest because he was beginning to feel guilty about how often he may or may not have touched himself to those fantasies. 

Matt wants so badly to show you how much he loves you, but you aren’t ready for it yet, and he understands. You’ve accepted him for who he is and what he does. You want to know more and aren’t accusatory when you ask questions. You’ve been snatched up into his whirlwind of a life and are adjusting in a way he didn’t think was possible, but you are still adjusting and he’s not going to push more onto you. 

You’ve been slow to accept physical gestures and as much as it pains him, he’s happy to go at your pace. He cherishes each moment you let him hold you and his heart soars when you are the one to initiate it. You don’t flinch or pull back when he rests a hand on your hip or back. Slow and steady wins the race and if you want to stroll, he’ll stroll right along with you.

“All done,” you say, breaking him from his thoughts as you step away. “We shouldn’t be out here long enough that we will need to reapply.”

“Thank you,” he replies. He puts his glasses back on and he follows your movements as you put the sunscreen back in your purse. “Do you need help with anything?”

The second phase of Minnie’s Birthday Bash Weekend - after her princess breakfast and makeover - is the Park Party. Multiple blankets have been laid out for everyone to sit on and the wagon is filled to the brim with supplies - there’s a drink cooler, a snack cooler, a series of toys Minnie insisted they add so no one gets bored, and tucked in the corner, unopened presents they picked up from Sister Maggie. Foggy showed up early so he could enjoy the walk to the park with the birthday girl and Karen and Frank should be arriving soon. 

Matt knows you are going to fuss over the details and try to play Good Host, and he wants you to relax and have a good time instead. 

But sometimes, he thinks fussing is your idea of fun. You make a shooing motion at him and there is a bit of a laugh in your voice when you tell him, “Go play with your daughter.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Foggy and Minnie are on the sidewalk, setting up her newest toy. Fog got Mouse some sort of pogo stick for toddlers and from her excited explanation to him, it is pink and princess themed. Matt has no idea how a pogo stick for toddlers could possibly work - Minnie can barely balance on one leg - but you seemed to have no issue with the device, so he chalks it up to having missed something in the explanation that would be obvious to a sighted person. 

“Okay, squirt. Go ahead and step on,” Foggy tells Minnie. Matt can sense some sort of small platform that his little one steps onto, then she is being handed something that reminds him of a bike handle. “Okay. Try jumping.”

Mouse jumps straight up, and to his surprise, the little platform bounces when it hits the ground again, sending her back up about half an inch. That seems like more than enough height for her, as she lets out an absolutely delighted scream and quickly starts to repeat the motion. 

She bounces four times before she loses her balance and falls off the platform, but Matt doesn’t even get the chance to step forward to help her. She’s right back on and jumping in place - beaming ear to ear. 

“Look at you go!” Foggy cooes and Matt can’t help but grin. “You are a little hopping machine!”

“Hop! Hop! Hop!” Mouse cheers as she does just that. “Hop! Hop! Hop!”

“Hop! Hop! Hop!” Both he and Fog echo, and they are on the same wavelength, because they both mimic her by bouncing on the balls of their feet. 

Matt can sense you aiming your phone at Mouse, most likely taking a picture or filming them, so he quickly prompts her, hoping for a cute moment. “Sweetie, what do you say to Foggy?”

“Thank you, Froggy, you are the bestest!” 

“You are very welcome, birthday girl!” Fog, of course, quickly turns to Matt to jokingly rub in, “Hear that, Murdock? I’m the bestest.” 

Minnie stumbles again and Matt realizes she will not need help unless she trips and falls to the ground. She’s back to bouncing within a second and defending his honor. 

“You’re the bestest, but Daddy’s Super Bestest and Mommy is Super-Duper Bestest.”

Foggy must pull a face, because both you and Minnie laugh before he gives in, “Okay, I will allow this because it is your birthday. But no take backsies. I’m the bestest.”

“No take backsies!” Mouse quickly parrots before turning her attention back to her toy. She dissolves into giggles as she jumps up and down and he can only imagine how big her smile must be.

He takes a moment to focus in on one of the gifts he got her. He didn’t get called Bestest for it, but Matt hopes it will be something she grows to cherish. He spent a pretty penny to get it custom made as he was incredibly particular about the quality, but it was more than worth it - a gold heart necklace with ‘I love you’ in Braille on one side, and on the other, the date he found out she existed. 

He knows she can’t always wear it - it is a choking hazard until she’s older - but right now it is bumping against her manubrium and he can’t help but smile and reach to fiddle with the bracelet hanging on his wrist. 

It has become almost like a rosary to him. When he’s thinking, he finds himself pulling the beads up to go around his hand and he will thumb at them, tracing over the hearts his sweet Minnie gave him. The only time he doesn’t wear it is when he’s out on Patrol - and that is only because he’s scared he’ll end up breaking it. Otherwise, he has it on - asleep, in the shower, in court - Matt proudly wears his friendship bracelet.

Of course, no one is none the wiser to his private moment. Foggy continues to encourage Mouse to bounce and enjoy her gift. Matt is pretty sure this is one of the toys she is going to run into the ground because she uses it so much. 

“Hey, Fog, where did you get this thing?” 

“Online,” his friend quickly replies. “I’ll send you the link. One of the Littles got one for their birthday and loved it, so I went with a peer-reviewed product instead of trying my luck on something unknown.”

“I didn’t even know this existed,” you say from your spot on the blankets. “This is amazing.”

“Thank you,” Foggy says with an uptick in his voice, indicating he is smiling. “But I’ll warn you, some of them come with a squeaker in them. I hunted for the one without one. I wanted to take pity on the bat-ears.”

Matt throws back his head as he laughs and concedes, “Okay, maybe you are the Bestest.”

“I knew it!”

“Froggy is the bestest! Froggy is the bestest! Froggy is the bestest!” Minnie starts to chant as she plays. Foggy joins her and Matt claps along for a moment. 

You laugh at them, and it is one of the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard - it is you actually being truly happy.

The joy is cut short, and it morphs into panic when Minnie very suddenly drops her pogo stick and takes off running towards the other side of the park. Her movements are so quick and erratic that Matt doesn’t react right away, having not anticipated them. You scramble up to chase her just as he begins to move to do the same.

“Minnie! Come back here!” You shout as you hurry after your daughter.

Matt opens up his senses, needing to know what has Minnie so excited that it overrode her being the shy little angel he’s used to. He zeroes in on it instantly.

Karen, Frank, and Frank’s dog Max have just arrived, parking on the street outside the green space. Minnie is making a beeline right towards them, but luckily, her little legs are no match for Matt and he scoops her up before she can get too far from their picnic. She instantly begins to struggle against him, flailing and kicking and trying her best to fight his hold, but he turns her around and forces her onto his hip. 

“Minnie, you cannot run off!” he chastises as you catch up to them. “You know better than that. You know you need to stay with us.”

“It’s Mister Frank and he has a doggie!” She tries to explain, clearly excited and overly enthusiastic, but Matt won’t be swayed. “I gotta go say hi to him! And asks if I can play with his doggie! I’ve never played with a doggie! I wanna play with the doggie!”

“It’s dangerous to just run off. You have to ask Mommy or me first.” Matt tells her. He’s trying to remain calm, but the fear from her just running away is still in his system. He knows he can’t yell or scold her - it’s her special day and she just got too excited, but he needs her to know that isn’t okay.

Luckily, you seem to know how to handle this.

“No running off,” you emphasize, putting your hand on her back and almost crowding her into Matt, which he is more than okay with. “Part of being a Big Girl is knowing the rules. If you can’t follow the rules, what happens?”

Minnie deflates against him, all her jubilation evaporating, and guilt pools in his chest as his precious little baby mumbles out, “We go home.”

“That’s right.”

“I don’t wanna go home. I wanna play with Froggy more and Mister Frank and his doggie.” 

You reach up to push some of her hair out of her face and gently comfort her, “we’re not going to go home. But you gotta be good, okay? Mister Frank and Karen are coming to us. You don’t have to run to them, okay?”

“Okay.”

It seems like Minnie will not bolt if Matt sets her down, so he takes that chance. She fusses with smoothing out her princess dress for a moment and patting it free of any dust before looking up at you, “When he gets close can I go say hi? Please? Please? Please?”

She asks so sweetly it is a miracle you don’t cave immediately. You put your hands on your hips as you pretend to think over your answer. After a few moments, you reply, “When he gets as close to us as we are to Froggy, you can go say hi.”

Minnie whips around to judge the distance - she had only gotten about thirty or forty feet before Matt caught her - before turning back. She literally bounces from foot to foot as she waits for Frank and Karen to get close enough that she can run to them and that helps to dissipate the lingering guilt he has. He defaults to you to give the ‘okay’ signal, and when you do, Minnie takes off again at a speed he didn’t think toddlers could achieve. 

“Mister Frank! Mister Frank! It’s my birthday!” she yells as she streaks towards him. 

Matt isn’t exactly keen on Minnie’s excitement for Frank, but he accepts the man is entering his circle more now that he and Karen are in a relationship. When they aren’t butting heads about the morality of killing, he thinks he and Frank get along well enough. They take jabs at each other and even if it can be scathing, neither of them takes it personally. Danger follows Frank and Matt is acutely aware of that, but he also has some je ne sai quoi with kids and Minnie is not immune to it. 

You and Matt follow after your daughter while Frank passes off Max’s leash to Karen so he can catch the toddler rocket coming right at him. The Devil in Matt’s chest growls with jealousy and possessiveness when Frank picks Mouse up to hold her without any shyness from his little one and she’s tossed slightly up into the air.

“It’s your birthday? Well, it’s a good thing we got all those presents in the truck, then, ain’t it, Karen?”

“I wonder who they could be for,” Karen teases and Minnie turns into a giggling mess, hiding her hands in her face.

“Are they for me?” She asks, so sweet and genuine and not at all greedy. Matt’s heart glows with how pure his daughter is, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it.

“It is your birthday,” Frank tells her and that just makes her more delighted.

“I’m getting so many presents! Mommy gave me presents and Daddy gave me presents and Froggy gave me presents and Froggy’s Mommy gave me presents AND…and Daddy’s Mommy gave me presents. That’s like…” She pauses and lifts up her hands in front of her face and Matt thinks she must be trying to count. Finally, she decides on a number, “That’s like twelve presents!”

She certainly received more than twelve presents from you alone - there were so many components to her new kitchen set - but he knows everyone understands what she means. Minnie is being absolutely spoiled for her birthday. 

“That is a lot of presents!” Karen cooes, “You aren’t tired from opening them all?”

“Not uh! I’m a Big Girl!” 

“We can have a second round of opening presents after the park,” you inform Minnie and even without his enhanced hearing, he can tell you are smiling - you sound so happy. “We can have cake at home, and you can show everyone what you got.”

“That sounds like a good plan to me,” Frank says, bouncing Mouse in his arms a little. “What do you say, Princess?”

She nods eagerly, “A good plan!” 

You all begin to walk back towards the picnic - and Foggy, who has relocated the pogo stick to the blankets - and Minnie gets to the next order of business. 

“Can I pet your doggie?” 

Max seems to know he’s being talked about, as he starts making little noises and adding a wiggle to his walk. Matt has met the dog a few times now and even he admits the animal is a sweet one, especially for an ex-fighting dog. He knows that Frank didn’t keep Max initially, but when he resettled in New York a few months ago, the dog also reappeared. Matt doesn’t question it - he thinks caring for the dog is good for Frank and Karen absolutely adores him. 

“Do you know how to pet a dog?” Frank asks, amusement clear in his voice.

Minnie shakes her head, but as always, has a solution, “No, but I can learns! Mommy says…Mommy says when we don’t know something, we can learn it by askings! I can asks my tablet!” She pauses, then dramatically slaps her hands to her cheeks. “I don’t have my tablet, its at home.” 

They all laugh at her antics and as they approach their picnic, Frank sets Minnie down, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I can teach you. And I can show you how to play fetch, too.”

Karen goes to hug Foggy a hello, while you and she start to strike up a conversation catching up. Matt decides to allow you the time to have an adult moment, and he keeps his attention on Minnie, Frank, and Max. 

“Before you can pet him, you need to introduce yourself,” Frank starts, moving to sit down on the blankets as he does. Minnie plops down beside him and Matt takes a seat beside her. “You need to hold out your hand so he can sniff it. He can’t talk, so he gets to know you through smell.”

He demonstrates by holding out his hand to Max. The dog snuffles at it, then begins to lick at Frank, his tail starting to wag. Matt can practically feel Minnie analyzing what is happening, then after a moment, she sticks her little hand out towards Max. The dog clearly gets excited by this and turns his big head towards his daughter. He could so very easily bite off her whole arm - Minnie is small for her age and Max is a big dog - but instead he oh so gently presses his nose to her skin before giving it a tiny lick. 

“He likes me!” Minnie says in a whisper-gasp and Matt tries his best to not laugh. 

“He does, he wants to be your friend,” Frank tells her.

“I wanna be his friend, too!” She declares before mimicking Max by leaning in and sniffing at him loudly. He can’t hold back his amusement when she sticks out her tongue with a, “He’s stinky!”

“He’s a dog, all dogs stink,” Frank laughs, “but he’s still a good dog.”

“How do I pets him?” Mouse asks, obviously so very excited and wanting to learn how to pet Max correctly. 

Matt leans back and observes as Frank gently guides his daughter’s hands, showing her where to pet the sweet dog. He hopes this doesn’t lead to her wanting her own puppy - though she will probably spend a fair amount of time pretending Scooby is a real dog instead of her companion in trouble. 

Matt has never wanted a dog before - mostly because it has always been pitched as a guide dog and he doesn’t need one - but he wonders if his mind would change if you wanted a dog. He knows it isn’t possible in your current apartment, but what if you moved to somewhere bigger? Where Minnie could have her own bedroom and maybe you could have your own yard. 

Where, maybe, he could move in with you, and you could be a proper, traditional family. He could be with you - provide for you like he should have always been doing. He could sleep in your bed at night and tell you he loves you in the morning. Where he could tuck Minnie in before he goes on Patrol and he could learn all her Quiet Games.

Where he could protect his family.

Where he could have something he’s always wanted.

Where maybe, just maybe, Matt Murdock could finally have a home. 

--

a/n:

Every one say Happy Birthday to the Birthday girl!

part one of the birthday weekend. Sorry it is a little short We have another birthday day chapter after this then Minnie gets her Zoo Trip!

--

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 

 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

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@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

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@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

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 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

[transform4u]

I don’t know what’s happening to me, recently I’ve been burping non stop and no matter how much I wash I keep getting smellier. I’ve also been having urges to go to the gym and turn my twink body around plus I’m blacking out loads and the last time I can to I had some confederate flag underwear in my amazon basket

As the sharp snaaaaapppp of the sound ricochets through your room, it’s followed by an unsettling wave of smoke that billows around you. The acrid scent of burnt material invades your senses—a noxious blend of sweat-soaked gym clothes and the vile stench of rotten eggs. The smoke feels dense and suffocating, clinging to the air and coating your throat like a heavy, oppressive mist. Each breath you take feels labored, and your body convulses with a violent cough, the hacking sound mingling with the smoky haze that seems to grow thicker by the second.

Your mind, once sharp and clear, begins to dissolve into a foggy mush. The smoke isn't just suffocating your lungs; it's clouding your thoughts. Your once vivid memories of nerdy hobbies— coding, collecting comic books, or lameass role-playing games—begin to fade into a dull blur. The details that used to bring you joy are slipping away, leaving you in a state of confusion and mental numbness.

As this disorienting haze continues, you feel an uncomfortable shift in your body. You start to grow taller, your frame expanding in a grotesque, almost cartoonish manner. The weight on your body seems to melt away, replaced by an exaggerated muscular bulk. You look down and realize you're clad in a pair of ratty, unwashed boxers emblazoned with a Confederate flag. You let out a dumb, bewildered chuckle, noticing the deepening Southern twinge in your voice as your laughter grows more guttural and brash.

A deep, resonant burp escapes your throat, and a sharp ache courses through your body. Your muscles twitch involuntarily, each spasm sending waves of discomfort through your once weak and thin frame. As the transformation completes, you become a hulking figure of exaggerated Southern masculinity. Your physique is a grotesque parody of the redneck bro archetype: massive, rippling muscles straining against your skin, a tanned and greasy sheen covering every inch of your body.

Your chest is a dominant feature, each pectoral muscle resembling a slab of meat rather than mere flesh, rippling with every movement. Your abs are a rock-hard, jackhammer-sculpted six-pack that bulges unnaturally. Your arms are enormous, thick veins and sinew pulsing with raw, unrefined strength. Your legs are massive, with thighs like tree trunks and calves that bulge comically. Your glutes are a round, firm rear end, exaggerated for maximum impact.

Your skin, a tanned, ruddy shade, is slick with sweat, and your face is rugged—broad nose, square jawline, and squinting eyes. Your hair is short and unkempt, often covered by a worn-out trucker hat. A stubbly beard or unshaven chin completes your rough-hewn appearance.

As you let rip an awful, wet fart, the room fills with an even more unbearable stench, a potent mix of stale beer, unwashed clothes, and a sense of neglect. The room begins to morph into a grotesque parody of a trailer home, with beer cans scattered around, a Confederate flag hanging in the corner, and Fox News blaring in the background, amplifying the grotesque transformation and reinforcing the overwhelming sense of repugnance and exaggerated masculinity.

You let out another loud, smelly fart as you heave yourself out of bed, your fat, jiggling ass giggling with each movement. You grab a beer from the fridge, your huge hands crushing the can. You take a swig, but most of it ends up pouring down your thick, muscular chest. You slam the empty can against your head, letting out a loud, wet belch.

Suddenly, you hear a call from outside. "Chet! Now, come out here and show your wife some loving!" You step out of the trailer and see the hottest little redneck chick you've ever laid eyes on. She's wearing a tiny American flag bikini, and there's a Trump 2024 sign in the yard. You swing your MAGA hat back and lay a big, wet kiss on her.

"Damn, baby, you're looking fine as hell today," you say, flexing your massive muscles for her. "The Lord sure did bless me with a fine piece of ass like you."

She giggles and grabs you another beer. "You better believe it, sugar. Now, why don't you take me inside and fuck my brains out?"

You grin, your eyes roaming over her curves. "Oh, I'll fuck you alright. I'll fuck you so hard, you'll be seeing stars and stripes for days." You grab her ass, feeling the soft flesh fill your huge hands. "But first, I gotta show you what these muscles can do. I'll make you scream so loud, the whole damn trailer park will know who you belong to."

She shivers in anticipation, pressing her body against yours. "Then what are you waiting for, big boy? Take me now, before I explode."

[eunuchmoder]

Girl who is imperceptible, uncanny, strange.

Her face disappears when you look at it, distorting into a blur of unfamiliar memories. Her motions make no sense, moving in directions you can't name. She speaks in words you maybe understand, possibly. You think you do, at least.

When you are with her, the frenzied blur of sex and body fluid says all that you both need to hear. but every moment prior and afterwards, she becomes that foggy humanoid presence that you can't parse even if your life depended on it.

She weaves her way into your mind; you remember why you were drawn to her (or why she was drawn to you), but you can't fetch the memory even if you tried. You have a vague memory of her smiling, or laughing, or making intoxicating sounds when your skin connected, and you know it was something you did that invoked this reaction. When you try to recall what you did, though, all you can see in your mind's eye is noise and turbulence.

See, humans are pattern seekers by evolutionary design, so every time you perform an action to her, you add the accompanying reaction to your mental map of her. But the pages of said map are soaked in coffee and bile, tearing to shreds each time you put your pen to it. You try to read it back, tracing your fingers across the same routes and landmarks, but you end in a different location every time, even if all variables are accounted for. Every attempt at navigating her unearthly self is futile and not without a massive margin of error.

Moments of clarity shine through, though, during sex – oases of respite in a desert of unfamiliarity. You see her face, smiling and contorting in pleasure. You feel her heart rate increase in direct correlation. Her hair is unusually soft – you aren't sure if you want to pull it and hear her whine and grunt, or if you want to run your fingers through it gently to really commit that physical sensation to memory. Her eyes, so emotive, speak grand poems in conjunction with her eyelids. You can hear her voice telling you to "keep going," pleading you to continue "just like that," and begging to reach climax. Through the overwhelming storm that is the connection of your flesh (you can feel her flesh for the first time in a while), you can enumerate every single vibration of her vocal cords and what it all means. It's understandable and crystal clear, even if for just an hour or two.

Afterwards, she silently retreats back into the glamer, obscuring every facet of her being and her influence once more.

You ask how it felt.

She replies ████████████, in a voice that is not just flat and devoid of emotion, but somehow entirely lacks tone to begin with.

You ask her if she needs a glass of water or a towel, maybe a shower. She gently coos at you, with a raspy emotion that feels like grit and silk, ◌̶̹̿⃤̶̰̌◷̴̲̒◌̴̞̇⃟̷̫̋

Once again, you can't scrutinise what she's saying anymore. She becomes a formless mass without weight or gravity. Did you do it right? Is she comfortable? Are you impeding on her presence by sharing the same blanket? The infinite questions burn a hole in your chest like white-hot coals placed onto a slab of ice.

There's an allure to her, of course, and you remember it clearly.

But the glamer begins to alter your own memory.

When she came into your life, did you read her face right? Did she even have a face to read? Did you remember that night clearly? Do you remember it at all?

Her otherworldly influence jabs at you, taunting you.

Or maybe it's just you taunting yourself.

It's impossible to tell. She melts your memory, synapse by synapse. You genuinely cannot remember anything about her without it being laid under a dense veneer of suspicion.

Most frustratingly of all, she gets along great with every other one of those formless, nameless humanoid presences that you know... Though you can't remember if those other "people" you see were always like this—like her—or if she's tainted your psyche to the point that everyone becomes unreadable.

Your own face is the only thing you're sure of anymore. But even still, you begin to worry if the expressions you consciously assume are the ones that the formless presences around you are expecting you to make in response to their dim gurgling and sweaty blinks. It's torture. You begin to move your focus from them to yourself. You manually emote so that you don't accidentally smile when you should frown. You watch every syllable that collapses over your lips to make sure they don't misconstrue your joy for entitlement. It's all in vain, though, because you never get a chance to verify if this output is correct. She stares at every part of you at once with an impossible number of eyes. You can't tell what the eyes say in return.

She is eldritch. She is dreamlike. She is unknowable, preternatural, and vague. The fact that you cannot understand a single aspect of her form is stressful.

But the sex was good. I wonder if she's free any time soon? Maybe I should just ask if she could use tone indicators next time.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Shower Me With Love

+18

Reader feels overwhelmed as a mother. Thankfully, Ruben knows how to make her feel good again.

Enjoy!

It was a hard thing to admit. A thought that brought you shame. But being a mother of three sometimes made you want to scream.

It was always at the end of the day, just before dinner and the moments after, that you felt like you had no control over yourself or the children. The oldest and the youngest would run around, chasing each other throughout the house. While the middle child needed help with homework that kept reminding you of the horrors of being a student with dyslexia. You simply felt incompetent as a mother, a sudden urge to take it out in your kids. They expected so much of you and so little of the rest of the world. Putting all of their trust in you and Ruben.

"I'm home."

"Daddy!"

Peace would fall upon your home whenever Ruben showed up at the door, a brimming smile on his face, arms open for the kids to run into his embrace. And just like that, the conflict within you simply seized to exist.

"Hi baby, how was your day?"

He would kiss you with a child clinging onto his neck and another his leg. You would tell him that your day was fine, leaving out the part where you almost had a mental breakdown again.

"How was your day?"

"Fine. We're doing alot to prepare for the game next week."

"I see."

Ruben would then fight his way through the house, carrying two children just to get to the third, who sat around the kitchen table, still tussling with homework. Ruben never failed to greet any of your children, giving them the individual attention that they all deserved. This he did better than you. It was a sad thing to admit. However, it was true. Ruben was better with the kids than you, or so the chaos in your mind made you believe.

"I'm going to hop in the shower." You announced. However, none of them seemed to have heard you. They were all gathered around the kitchen table, suddenly interested in doing homework. It didn't bother you as much as it could. This allowed you to slip away unnoticed, finally getting well needed time for yourself.

You would let the water run for at least an hour. The heat was scolding to the average man. However, the perfect temperature for you. You soaked in it, melting into a puddle of nothing. Someone without so much expectation on them.

"Baby?"

The knock on the bathroom door came just in time, like it did almost every night. Through the foggy glass, you saw your husband slip into the bathroom. The kids had been put to bed, leaving him nothing else to do but to join you in the shower.

"God, you're beautiful." He pulled open the glass doors, grinning at the sight of you.

"Don't just stand there." You teased, to which Ruben wasted no time stripping himself of his shirt, tugging his sweats pants down his legs. He winced with the first sensation of the hot water. Once his skin was used to it, his arms pulled your body towards him, pressing your back against his front.

"I've missed you." He said, whispering the words against the lobe of your ear. He then traced his kisses along the running water that ran down your shoulders and the length of your arms. Ruben then made you turn around and face him and the way he regarded you with such admiration and lust. How he never failed to make you feel special was a wonder itself.

"You okay?" He asked, perhaps seeing the fatigue in your eyes. Not even an hour spent in the shower could wash away your fear of inadequacy.

"I am." You nodded. However, it only rewarded you with a skeptical look frown from your husband.

"Don't lie." He said, which caused your heart to strain and tears to well up in your eyes.

"I'm okay, Ruben, I really am. It's just that the children...." You stopped yourself from admitting your sinful thoughts and how they would make you come off as an even worse mother than you already were.

"Y/N?"

Suddenly, all that anxiety seemed to evaporate with Ruben's touch upon your cheek. Even though he couldn't see them through the running water, he seemed to be drying away your tears.

"Why are you always so hard on yourself?"

You chuckled. "Perhaps because I have a husband who makes it seem so easy."

"It is easy." He nodded, and for a second, you thought about stepping out of the shower, ignoring the tempting way Ruben's growing erection put pressure against your stomach. "You make it easy." He smiled.

"I what?"

"I come home to a house where my kids are happy because my wife makes them happy. I get to play with them until it's time to put them to sleep and you leave me to help them with their homework which mends a big part of me that hates it when I'm gone for too long. Football and my career are temporary. You and our family are forever."

"Oh Ruben."

You had never thought of it that way. How you were the heart of the home that he came home to. How he, unlike you, enjoyed helping the kids with their homework, cherishing every moment he had with them considering that he wasn't present for the majority of their day.

"I love you." Ruben spoke the words into your skin, his mouth now attached to your collarbone, nipping the skin until it became softer and thicker as he reached your breasts.

"Fuck." You moaned as he licked across your nipple, taking it into his mouth. Ruben's rough hands then traveled down your body, searching for the soft folds of you slit.

"That feels so good." Your head knocked against his torso, your hands cradling around his head, fingers running through his wet hair. You kissed his lips as you stood on your toes, savoring the tase of him.

Ruben rubbed small circles on your clit, small but powerful.

"Just put it in." You nodded.

His laughter drummed in your ear. "Without a condom?"

"Why would you wear a condom in the shower?"

Again, his laughter drummed in your ear. You always seemed to forget the beginning of your troubles. How your hot showers with Ruben resulted in three kids barley a year apart from each other.

"Can I fuck you like this?" Ruben turned you over to face the wall, arching your back in a way that offered him your ass.

"Yes, like this." You nodded, eager to have him inside of you.

His muscles flexed as his hips aligned with your entrance, the hot water running down the length of your back.

"You ready?"

"Ready." You squealed to the sensation of the size of Ruben, easing into you. Like always, he started of slow, despite your plea for him to go hard right away. His thrusts then came in waves, slow and fast, a combination of both. The sounds of your breathless moans were confined to the sacred sphere that was your shower.

[0310s]

gently, by your side | jaehyun

members: myung jaehyun x gender neutral reader

genre: college au, angst, comfort, best friends! to ???, more platonic stuff in this one

tags/warnings: extensive discussions of mental health and chronic/mental illness, y/n is not okay. :(

summary: jaehyun finds you after a bad week.

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this fic’s title comes from this lovely song. as someone who’s struggled with both chronic and mental illness, it really takes someone strong and amazing to keep on going, despite everything. most of the dialogue in this comes from my own musings and experiences with mental health. i wrote this for a dear mutual of mine! i hope better days will come for you soon, whenever that may be. meanwhile, i hope this gives you comfort when things are tough! sending lots of love <3 

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

5 days ago 1:28 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

(y/n) we haven’t seen each other in such a loooong time imy :(( i mean i KNOW it’s just been a couple of days since we last hung out but still!!!!!!! when are we seeing each other again !!!! tell me ur schedule QUICK !!!!

4 days ago 6:33 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeeyyyyyyyyy (with the intention to hang out) heeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy reply to meeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! tell me when ur free pls i miss u :((

3 days ago 11:58 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

hey i didn’t see u at the party today i thought u said u were going last week!!!  also i asked around and people said they haven’t seen u around recently??? and they don’t know what ur up to

2 days ago 2:05 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

heeeyyyy ?????????? did i do smth?????  or are u just really busy w school and work idk either way pls just let me know :(( i won’t bother u if ur rlllyyy busy

10:35 PM sorry if i’m being annoying btw

Yesterday  11:32 PM 🐶 cutie puppy

ok i thought about it reaaaaaallly hard and i don’t think i’ve done anything to make u mad or upset w me??? well aside from that time last last week that u got mad at me for accidentally messing w ur computer and deleting ur work files WHICH IM LIKE REALLY SORRY FOR but i fixed it!!!!! i thought we were good alrd!!! are u still mad at me 4 that ?

1:00 AM (y/n)?

1:28 AM idk  i thought i was ur best friend :(( did smth change???

2:47 AM pls pls reply :(( i know we can talk this out i don’t want us to not be ok

Today  3:00 PM 🐶 cutie puppy i’m coming over.

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

Sitting up from your bed, your heart thuds in anxiety as you quickly scroll through your chat history with Jaehyun. Your eyes hurt and your brain feels especially foggy, like you’re looking at the world through a particularly cloudy lens. How long did you sleep? The last thing you recall was working on your assignments last night, then choosing to sleep instead when you got overwhelmed. Even then, you slept fitfully. You remember setting an alarm at 9 AM today to continue working, but even as you sat at your desk, you couldn’t type a single sentence on your laptop. Everything felt muddled and it was as if you couldn’t understand anything at all. Even the cups of coffee you drank in desperation was of no use keeping you alert; all it did was make you palpitate.

Then you gave up, went back to bed, and you’re here now. Checking the chat timestamps, you realize you haven’t replied to Jaehyun’s messages in almost a week, which has never happened before—you talk almost everyday, even multiple times a day. Jaehyun’s last message was at 3 PM, when he said he’d come over. One look at your screen shows you it’s already 3:20. If you’ve memorized his schedule right, it takes your best friend thirty minutes to get to your dorm from his Fundamental Maths class. That means you have ten more minutes to get your shit together and clean your mess of a room. 

But right when you’ve mustered the energy to stand up, you hear a series of knocks on your door. That can’t be— “(Y/n), open up, I know you’re in there!” Jaehyun’s voice echoes from outside the door. “I asked your dormmate and she said you haven’t left your room since yesterday, so there’s no use pretending!” Shit, shit, shit! You immediately spring up and hastily fold your blankets and organize your desk, throwing away stray food wrappers and plastic cups. You open your blinds to let some air in, and the bright sunlight makes your head throb even more. 

On your way to the door, you spot yourself in the mirror. There’s no other word for it—you look like utter shit. Your eyebags are dark and prominent, your hair disheveled from tossing and turning in your sleep. You look horrendous, but Jaehyun is persistently knocking on your door, so you have no choice but to fix yourself up as fast as you can. You splash water on your face and smoothen down your hair and open the door—then there’s Jaehyun in all his glory. Your heart clenches seeing him; he looks as handsome as always, his bangs fluffy and soft and his letterman jacket fashionably oversized. He looks nothing like you in your ratty T-shirt with coffee stains and pajama shorts. His hand is halfway raised, positioned to knock at your door (he could and would probably do it all day if he had to). Upon seeing you, he blurts out: “Did I do something?”

Instead of answering him, you open your door wider as an invitation, and Jaehyun takes the hint, stepping into your dorm. Once the door is shut, Jaehyun peers at your messy room and remarks, “Wow. When was the last time you cleaned up? You’re usually not like this.”

You know he didn’t mean it like that, but his comment stings at you all the same. “Sorry, Jaehyun,” you snap, “not everyone can be at 200% energy all the time like you.” At his hurt expression, you backtrack. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”

“It-It’s fine,” Jaehyun replies confusedly. Then he looks straight at you, eyes pleading. He’s picking at the stray thread hanging from his jacket, a habit you’ve come to known is something he does when he’s nervous. “You know what, I thought about it. For days, really, if I did anything that would make you mad and ignore me. But I couldn’t come up with anything at all. I was really worried when you didn’t reply to me for days on end, especially when we talk everyday. So if I did something, can—can you just tell me? I just want us to be okay.”

Your throat closes up and your heart pounds even faster, making you feel dizzy. You have no idea how to answer him, when all he’s ever seen of you is the perfect student who does everything right, who’s smart and good at what they do without any flaws or exceptions. How would he react if he saw you for who you really were?

The words can’t form in your mouth, and out of frustration at yourself, you tear up. Jaehyun notices this, eyes widening in worry, “(y/n), baby, no, no,” and pulls you into his arms. Almost instantly, the tears cascade down your face and sobs wrack your body. You feel pathetic crying in your best friend’s arms, but Jaehyun just soothes a hand up and down your back as you break down. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and it feels like your anchor when you’re drowning in all your troubles. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a hushed tone, “let it all out.” You grip his jacket even tighter as you bury your face in his chest. 

When was the last time you’ve ever been hugged like this? The last time you’ve ever been truly vulnerable to anyone without that mask of perfection you often don? The last time you felt safe just being yourself? You have no idea. All you know that is in the circle of Jaehyun’s arms, you want to be small and imperfect and yourself just this once.

After your cries die down, Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know what it is I did, but I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s not you, Jaehyun,” your voice is muffled by both your sniffles and Jaehyun’s chest. You don’t want Jaehyun to get the wrong idea that he’s hurt you in some way because of how broken he sounds thinking he’s done something to make you sad. “It’s just. Me.”

“You? What do you mean?” Jaehyun leads you into your room from the doorway. He’s holding your hand and doesn’t let go even when you both settle at the edge of your bed. His palm is warm and his grip loose enough in case you want to let go; you don’t. While you muster up the courage to speak, your best friend just sits there, waiting patiently. “It’s okay, whatever you say, I’m not going anywhere.” You don’t know that for sure, but him saying that makes you want to be truthful just this once, damn the consequences.

You take a deep breath, focusing on your intertwined fingers. You’re too scared to look at his face because you don’t want to see his reaction. “Jaehyun, what kind of person do you think people see me as?”

“Well…” He takes a moment to think about it. “Someone smart, talented, and who gets stuff done?”

In turn, you let out an resigned exhale. “Well, that’s the image I project. Of someone who’s perfect… someone who does things effortlessly. People think it comes easy to me. But it doesn’t. When people tell me that I didn’t need much effort to get to where I am now, I feel undermined. When I express I’m having a hard time, people brush it off and think I’m just overreacting. Because they think I’m perfect all the time. But honestly…? That’s the farthest thing from the truth."

Glancing up from your hands, you scan your room—your desk is a mess of papers and assignments that you have yet to get to. You can’t tell when the last time you spent time being actually productive when what you’ve been is fatigued out of your mind. When you try to sit at your desk and work, all you feel is difficulty concentrating and processing work and readings. Sleep has also proven to be elusive—no matter how long you lie in bed, you never feel well-rested. Simple actions and decisions require so much energy from you that you undeniably lack. You also constantly compare yourself to others, whom things like these come natural to them. But you’ve kept these feelings of yours secret for a long time—you’re utterly terrified that you’d be undermined for being useless and overly sensitive.   

“(Y/n)?” Jaehyun squeezes your hand, and you turn to meet his eyes. His eyes are sincere and kind. “I-I know I may not be the most empathic person, but I promise I’ll hear you out without judging you. I want to be here for you… and I hope you’ll let me. Please?” 

At this, you spill everything you’ve been feeling the past weeks—months, even—to Jaehyun. You stumble over your words and your breath gets caught in your throat, but he’s there to pat your back and to encourage you to keep going. Without you knowing, tears make their way down your face once again, and Jaehyun uses his other hand to gently brush them away. “It just gets so hard that I want to just. Give everything up. I don’t know what the use of trying so hard is when I see how other people don’t need this much effort to do even the most basic of tasks. It’s just so… unfair.”

When you’re finished with your rant, you don’t know what to expect from Jaehyun—but you’re stunned to see him crying. He’s sniffling and wiping at his eyes furiously. “Why…” You have no idea what he’s about to say, but you brace yourself for the worst. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t know you were having such a difficult time. I feel like such a shitty friend for not even noticing. I’m sorry, (y/n).” Jaehyun’s eyes fill with tears and he starts “I… I thought we were best friends.” The best friends tell each other everything goes unsaid, but you know exactly what he meant.

“I…” You feel awful now for making Jaehyun cry. “You’re just. You just naturally have all this limitless energy. You’re…” Normal. Not like me. “I don’t know how if you were going to take me seriously if I told you what I was going through… There were times I’d see you, and I’d be so disappointed in myself for not being like you. And I was so scared that if I did tell you, I’d be letting you down.”

Jaehyun’s expression grows more miserable at this. “I-I’m sorry, (y/n), I never meant to make you feel unheard. And I never meant for it to feel like you couldn’t tell me about these things.” 

“It-It’s not your fault, Jaehyun,” you protest, but he shakes his head, obviously disappointed in himself.

“No, (y/n), I’m supposed to be your best friend. How stupid can I be if I can’t notice when you’re having a hard time? I didn’t even stop to ask how you’ve been doing because you seemed to be doing fine. But I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken things at face value. I’m such an idiot,” Jaehyun berates himself. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

At his sincere apology, you can’t help but admit it to yourself—you desperately needed Jaehyun’s support as your best friend, but you were too scared to ask for it. And honestly? You felt immensely lonely without his words and presence to comfort you. 

“(Y/n), I hope you know that I see how hard you work. I know your sleepless nights and how much effort you put into every single thing you do. Despite everything you’re going through, you’re always trying to be better than the person you were yesterday, and it’s something I truly admire about you. But I hope you know it’s okay to be imperfect and flawed and to not be okay. I want to be here on your good and bad days. I just wish I could’ve been more vocal about this earlier… I’ve really taken you for granted, huh?” Jaehyun sighs wetly, taking your hand in both of his. He’s still crying; you both are, actually. What a silly pair the two of you make. 

“Thank you for trusting me and sharing all of this. It literally means the world to me,” Jaehyun rambles. “I promise I’ll be a better friend to you, someone you feel safe opening up to about anything, whether that be your achievements or your struggles. And (y/n), if it’s not too much to ask… Could I ask you to be more honest with me in the future?” He stares at you imploringly. “I don’t want you to think you have to go through all of this alone. I want to be here for you the same way you’ve always been there for me… Okay?”

“....Okay. Okay, I’ll try,” you respond softly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I… I’ve never told anyone about this before. But thank you so much for just listening, and not judging, and accepting me for me…” While you appreciate Jaehyun’s presence at this moment, a new wave of fatigue washes over you with all this emotional vulnerability and talking. “Jaehyun… I’m still feeling really tired, so I might go back to sleep. Sorry, I know you came all the way here to see me, but here I am being shit company,” you apologize regretfully.

“Oh! That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jaehyun stands up from your bed to leave. When your fingers slip from each other, you feel an acute loss of warmth—both in your hands and in your heart. He makes his way to the door, slipping on his shoes, and your heart sinks. There’s something you badly want to ask of Jaehyun, but you’re too much of a coward to tell him what you truly want. You don’t want to be on your own right now, but you’d probably be asking too much of him. Accepting your fate, you settle in bed, attempting to take a nap so restless you’re sure will be of no help to your exhaustion.

However, Jaehyun himself stops in the doorway. He turns back around, a distraught look on his face. “(Y/n)... I don’t want to assume, but are you sure you want to be alone right now?” he begins. “I mean, we just had this really heavy talk. Can… Can I keep you company? I promise I’m great at cuddles—that’s what all my other friends say anyway when I annoy them with my hugs.”

When you nod, that’s all it takes for Jaehyun to shuck off his shoes, strip his jacket, and climb into bed with you. With your ear against his steady heartbeat and his comforting arm around you, you’re asleep in no time. It’s the best you’ve ever slept in months.

[bots-and-cons]

Howdy again! Is it possible you could do the same prompt l asked last time (reader dies and turns cybertronian) but with Autobots instead of cons? Thank you so much!!!!

A/N: If someone’s interested in the decepticon version you can find that here. Ratchet has morals, hence no human experimentation on the autobots’ part

•You were taken by the decepticons and experimented on 

•Ever since the whole thing with Silas, Knockout and Shockwave were both interested in if they could repeat the experiment

•It was mostly Shockwave though, Knockout thought what happened to Breakdown was absolutely disgusting, but he also wanted to know how it was done, so repeating the experiment on you was a chance for that

•So, they did their experiment, constructing you a body from vehicon parts and putting the necessary parts from you into it

•Anyway, the cons returned you to the autobots in a rather cruel manner, basically Megatron just tossed you at their feet saying something like “I believe this is your pet”

•Ratchet worked for days to make sure you would survive in your new body, but he had a lot of trouble, because he didn’t know how much at all about human anatomy or biology

•Shockwave and Knockout had already done most of the work for him though, so he just had to finish the job and make sure you would continue to stay alive

•When you woke up, you were very confused, and scared too

•Your head was all foggy, you couldn’t remember much of anything, certainly not how you’d come to be this way

•It took a couple of days for you to be even able to move your arms or legs, and being able to stand and walk took much longer

•Ratchet was there to look after you the whole time, someone had to be, because you were pretty confused most of the time

•You had a lot of gaps and holes in your memory, you knew things like your name and you knew the autobots were friendly or at least not a threat to you, but you didn’t know who they were or what they were like

•You also didn’t remember anything about how you’d been made into this thing you now were

•You knew you used to be human, but it felt like it had been a dream

•Optimus was of course furious that the decepticons had done this to you, but he kept it under control, so hardly anyone noticed

•Except for Ratchet of course, he was also horrified by what had been done to you and he honestly just tried not to think about it most of the time, because you were still alive

•Arcee was probably the most visibly furious about the whole thing, she even ranted a little about how this was the last straw, etc etc

•Bee was also seething, but his anger was more mixed with this overwhelming sadness and confusion, he had seen the decepticons committing countless atrocities, but this was undoubtedly among the worst

•The whole team had a very hard time understanding how the decepticons could do this, you were no threat to them

•They were all furious, but they tried to keep a lid on it, some managed that better than others, because they wanted to aid in your recovery

•Your recovery was very slow, but they all tried to be there for you as best as they could

•You had to learn to control your new body, and all that came with being a pseudo-cybertronian

•Ratchet kept scanning you constantly for the first three months, at least twice a day, more if something unusual happened

•You had a very hard time mentally for a long while, because of getting used to your new body, never being able to see your family/friends again, and the fact that you had been dead

•Even though you didn’t exactly remember how you had been experimented on, the whole thing still plagued you in your nightmares

[123-im-writing-lol]

Matt Murdock x Autistic!Reader headcannons? Yes pls :3

Note: first time doing hcs so the format will probably suck. This is based off of my own experiences as an autistic person and how I think Matt would be with an autistic s/o 🤷‍♀️ also I wrote this on and off for a few days so sorry if it’s kinda incoherent at some points

Tw: sfw and nsfw, mentions of mental illness (I think?), Matt can pick reader up, terminology like “understimulated” “overstimulated” and “stim/stimming” being used, pet names (angel, sweetheart, honey, bug, etc), I tried to make the reader gender neutral but I myself identify as a woman so there might be some mistakes I overlooked. There might be more but I have a headache and can’t think at all so sorry :/

Sfw

• If you’re feeling under/overstimulated and need to stim intensely I feel like he’d help; picking you up by your ankles and letting you hang upsidedown for a few moments, squeezing/hugging you tightly/laying on top of you if you need deep pressure, etc.

• Would 100% be concerned about your more iffy stims / the ones that could get you hurt. Feels like he has to monitor you if you’re spinning in circles and shit:

*Standing a foot away while you spin, his arms instinctively reaching for you if he feels like you’re gonna fall.* “Sweetheart-! Be careful please”

/

*Quickly reaching out in order to help redirect you when you’re overwhelmed and doing something harmful (banging on your head, smacking your legs, etc).* “Hey. No, shh, come on, hold my hands. You gotta be careful beautiful.” *As he takes your hands in his, urging you to squeeze them in order to calm yourself.*

• Would be understanding and accommodating, especially because he himself is disabled.

Maybe you go to a restaurant and it’s really loud or busy, he’d definitely offer to go somewhere else or even take you home.

•Will warn you before using something loud (like a blender or vacuum). He just values your comfort.

• Respects your preferences even if they could be deemed stupid.

Back to the restaurant thing, I always feel the need to sit in the back of a restaurant and I always need to sit in a certain seat or else I feel uncomfortable and annoyed. Most people judge me for that but I have a feeling he wouldn’t.

/

If you need your food to be prepared a certain way he’s more than willing to learn how you like things and why you like them. (I need my sandwiches to be cut in half vertically every time. I will be very unhappy if cut diagonally and I will be very unhappy if it’s not cut at all)

/

You don’t like surprises? No problem, he never surprises you without permission, meaning he always gives you a choice. Some days are better than others after all, and not all surprises are equal. “Hey honey, I was thinking of surprising you with a treat on the way home from work. Do you wanna help me pick something out?” “Oh! Uh, yeah. Lemme get ___” or alternatively “oh! Uhm… no, I don’t really care.” Either way he always makes sure to ask.

• the lovely @deermurdock gave me this idea with her recent post on Matt feeding reader (check it out I love it):

If you have trouble remembering to eat Matt will 100% feed you throughout the day, or at least remind you to eat and drink.

“Here you go angel” *as he hands you a granola bar*

/

“Here, open up…” *places a piece of fruit into your mouth once your lips part.* “good job, thank you.”

/

“When was the last time you drank some water?” *when you’re in the middle of a project you’ve been working on for 2 hours*

• if you tend to yap he 100% is a listener. Whether it’s you rambling about your day or going into detail about your interests, he’ll listen, and if need be memorize details.

College Matt quote:

Foggy: “What are you looking for, my young padawan?”

Matt: “I don’t know. I guess just someone I really like to listen to.”

Like I get it was a joke but it also wasn’t a joke 🙄

/

*you rambling about the tv show you recently started, mentioning your favorite and most hated characters so far as well as the plot, what you think will happen, a funny detail you noticed, and how Matt reminds you of this one side character you adore. Meanwhile he listens the whole time, smiling softly and encouraging you to continue.* “Oh yeah, what’s it about?” “Oh wow.” “Really?” “You’re right, that’s ridiculous.” “You’re so smart sweetheart, that definitely seems plausible.” “From what you’ve told me so far he seems like a dick.” *and then the next time you sit down to watch said show he’ll spew commentary from the kitchen.* “Did ___ get the special artifact yet? …but I thought she wanted it? …ugh, that doesn’t make any sense! Why would she do that?!”

• I feel like he’d definitely bond with you over the whole disability aspect of it. I can see the both of you ranting to each other each time someone’s ableist and always reassuring each other that they’re not a burden for needing extra help sometimes.

“When I went to check out the new bakery by that bookstore you like I had asked the employee to read off some of the things they have and he said, quote, ‘look buddy, I don’t have all day. This is a bakery, there’s only so many things we could sell.’ Safe to say I was a little surprised and ended up leaving.”

/

“When I was at work I was trying to get something off the printer but I didn’t notice that I was in the way of my coworker, so when I tried to move out of the way she called me the r word under her breath cause I wasn’t moving quick enough.”

/

*When you come home on the verge of a meltdown and flinch away from any affection you feel guilty.* “Sorry, I just— my clothes are so tight and I’m hot and I can’t breathe and I was supposed to be home an hour ago but I had to stay after my shift to help my coworker!” “Sweetheart it’s okay, I’m not mad. What can I do to help you? Would you like some space? I can draw you a bath, or get you something to eat?”

• Will probably pick up certain stims, whether that be tactile, vocal, etc.

*You spinning and fidgeting with your ring one day, Matt notices and subconsciously mimics it a week later when you gift him a matching ring. Now he fidgets with it each time he wears it.*

/

*Sitting in his lap and feeling so much love you can’t help but chomp on his bicep. In turn when Matt feels a lot of love for you he’ll bite your neck or shoulders.*

/

True story, every time I see or even think of a cat I can’t help but start talking gibberish. It just scratches my brain so much. I did it in front of my friend and after her shock wore off she ended up picking the habit up and so now every time she sees a cat she does the same thing. Matt would do that.

• I like to think you introduced a lot of different fidget toys to him as well as things like sound reduction earbuds. I’m not sure if he’d actually like them or not, but If overwhelmed I can imagine it’d be helpful to him as well as you.

Nsfw

• Will talk to you about sex and not have it lead to actual sex. What I mean is that I tend to explain my thought process and stuff so I can see an autistic s/o talking to Matt about some of their kinks or sexual preferences just because they wanna yap to him and instead of always getting horny I feel like he’d actually just listen. He’d probably end up joining in on the conversation too.

• If you’re feeling under/overstimulated he’d probably use sex to try to help you. He’d probably be hesitant at first, not wanting to feel like he’s coercing you but if you assure him you’re okay with it then he’d be down to do whatever he can to help. After all, if you’re so fucked out you can barely process anything how can you still feel shitty? (Hypothetically speaking of course)

• Similarly I can’t help but think that you’d both incorporate your disabilities into kink. People always talk about his heightened senses during sex, which yes, but what about you? Maybe you wear your noise canceling headphones while he fucks you because your ears feel sensitive so you can drown out the sound of your guys’s moaning in order to not overwhelm yourself. Sorry not sorry but using his cane during sex or foreplay🧎‍♀️‍➡️

• For so long I’ve thought about stimming during sex. I’m a virgin (😔) so this is pure speculation but knowing myself I feel like if I loved the person I 100% would stim a lot during sex, especially soft and passionate sex. Cause you just love each other so much, how can you not squeal and flap your hands while he’s kissing your cheek lovingly (while spearing you with his cock 😵‍💫). I feel like he’d find it absolutely adorable, especially knowing that you’re not faking any of your love for him. You care for him so much you physically can’t handle it!

/

Similarly I’ve heard people tend to play music when they have sex to make it less awkward or as like background noise. Imagine one of your favorite songs coming on while he’s railing you:

*Face buried into the mattress you groan lowly as his hips continue to slam against your ass, repeatedly filling you to the brim with his cock. Suddenly the mind numbing pleasure is at the back of your mind when you hear the first few notes of one of your favorite songs. Your body tenses as you lift yourself up onto your elbows, gasping excitedly as you turn to look at Matt over your shoulder.* “Eeeek! Oh my gosh! It’s ___! It’s playing ___!” *Matt’s movements can’t help but still as he feels your walls fluttering excitedly around him, a strained chuckle escaping him.* “Holy shit sweetheart, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight…” *Suddenly brought back to the present, his words cause that burning in your tummy to return.* “Sorry, I just love this song so much I can’t even–!“ *Squealing into the pillow your hands begin to white knuckle the sheets, your body trembling as you attempt to hold in a giggle. Shaking his head fondly Matt leans down and presses a kiss to the back of your head, the pace of his hips going from fast and rough to languid and deep, allowing you to fully enjoy the rest of the song as well as a mind blowing orgasm all while humming the lyrics to yourself.*

• Similarly I feel like he wouldn’t really get mad if you got distracted during sex. I personally probably have adhd too but when I do things and something comes to mind it’s like I immediately have to go down a rabbit hole.

”You’re so good, making such pretty noises for me…” *Immediately your eyes snap open, scanning Matt’s pleasure filled face as a thought strikes you.* “oh my gosh Matt i just remembered! You literally just reminded me– remember how earlier this week I said I was gonna show you ___?” *Pausing mid thrust he gives you a quizzical look.* “…yes?” *You’re quick to continue, not at all worried about ruining the steaminess of the moment.* “Well I just remembered now, oh my gosh you gotta see this! Or, well, hear this.” *Reaching onto your nightstand you grab your phone and unlock it, beginning to scroll through it in search of what you wanted to show him. An amused snicker is all you get in response, Matt leaning down and pressing loving kisses to your chest and shoulders while you do what you need to do. He’s more than patient if it means making you happy.*

^^ lol did I edit this after posting it? Yes ;3

[nothingsure27]

🍃Unplanned Journey🍃

Pairing: Park Sunghoon. as father, fluff🍬 _________________________________

-🍼

chap: 02🎐

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🌄-

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The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating his messy apartment.

The sun crept through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day. & the sound of his alarm clock ringged, He groaned and reached over to turn it off,

waking Sunghoon from a restless night. He slowly opened his eye,

As he sat up, wincing from the pain in his back.

He looked at the clock on the wall and realized it was already 7:30 o'clock in the morning. He had slept for 6 hours straight, a rare luxury in his life lately ,the longest and most restful sleep he had gotten in days.

He sat up probably protesting the movment on the couch his body stiff and sore from sleeping in an uncomfortable position all night.

still holding his son in his arms.

He looked down in his arms the baby sleeping peacefully.

The baby was sleeping soundly in his arms, drool dribbling down his chin.

A warm fatherly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth even in spite of his discomfort, feeling a sense of love and pride swell in his chest.

Sunghoon looked around the apartment and groaned. It was a mess, and he knew he needed to clean it up. But first, he needed to take care of the baby.

He carefully extricated himself from the baby's grip and set him down in his bassinet.

The baby stirred but didn't wake up. Sunghoon stumbled to the kitchen, his mind foggy from lack of sleep.

He made himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, sipping the hot liquid.

As he stood there, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him. His anger at the baby's crying, his guilt and regret for his outburst, and his determination to make things work. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

he winced as he remembered yelling at the baby. He had been so frustrated and exhausted, but that was no excuse.

He should have never taken his anger out on the innocent baby.

He still felt guilty for yelling, but he also felt frustrated and overwhelmed.

Taking care of a child on his own was harder than he had ever imagined.

As he sipped his coffee again, he looked around the apartment, taking in the mess Laundry was piled up in the corner,

take-out containers were scattered on the coffee table, the floors were all messed up, and the sink was filled with dirty dishes,

in this past 1 week after the baby's birth he did no house choreos, he get no time for himself either,

rushing to hospital to store, his saving was endeed already, He thought about his job, wondering if he should call in sick again. He already had taken so much time off to take care of the baby

In this past 1 week from his work,He needed to clean the apartment,

grocery shopping, and figure out how to balance his job with taking care of his child.

He had no idea when the last he had a proper meal was, He felt overwhelmed just thinking about it all He knew it was going to be a long and exhausting day.

He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. "One thing at a time," he muttered to himself. He needed to take better care of himself, not just the baby, if he wanted to make it through this.

He took another sip of coffee and let out a deep sigh. "Okay," and set his coffee mug down on the counter.

"I'll start with the most important things and work my way down the list."

He also realized that he had run out of formula, and he needed to buy more. He also needed diapers and baby food. He made a mental list of all the things he had to do,

He found a notepad and started making a list of things to do. First, he needed to figure out how to feed himself and the baby. He opened the fridge, but it was empty except for some old takeout containers and a few condiment packets.

He picked up the baby's & his dirty clothes from the floor and headed to the bathroom He loaded the machine with the clothes and some detergent, then started the wash cycle.

As he waited for the load to finish, he began to clean up around the apartment.

He picked up trash and put it in the bin, swept the floors, and He wiped down the counters and scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom floors. The whole apartment soon looked much tidier than it had before.

After an half hour later when he was hanging the washed clothes on balcony to get dry, he folded it carefully and put it away in the baby's drawers.

He then realized that he hadn't eaten anything for breakfast yet. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him of the fact

Sunghoon looked around the apartment, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

He had accomplished a lot more than he thought he would, and the apartment was starting to look like a real home.

He looked in the fridge but found it mostly empty.

All he had was some leftover pizza from a few days ago. He grabbed a slice and began to eat it cold, thought that he would need to go grocery shopping soon.

Sunghoon finished his slice of pizza and headed to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water felt refreshing on his skin, and he closed his eyes, letting the water wash over him, he started to relax, he didn't hear any cries coming from the baby. He assumed the baby was still asleep,

and he let himself relax under the hot water, enjoying the rare moment of peace and quiet.

After a few minutes, he finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed, but still tired from lack of sleep.

He stood infornt the mirror in bedroom, d was drying his hair with towel when his mind drift to something.

He was lost in thought, his mind wandering to all the tasks that still needed to be done.

He didn't realize that the baby hadn't cried at all, and he didn't hear the soft sucking noise coming from the baby's crib.

However, the baby had been awake for quite some time already. He was lying in his crib, suckling his thumb, He was probably thirsty & hungry, He just watched the sunlight streaming in through the window birds flying.

The baby's stomach growled softly, hungry for some food. His diaper was now quite full wet, but he still didn't let out a sound.

He just lay there quietly, As the minutes passed, the baby started to get more and more restless. His face twisted in discomfort, and he squirmed in his crib, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Finally, the baby let out a small whimper, his hunger and discomfort becoming too much to bear. He sucked harder on his thumb, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

He was done drying his hair with a towel after his shower. He was whistling a tune, feeling refreshed and slightly more energic than he had in days. As he looked himself at mirror all refreshed cool.

He stopped whistling, as he heard a small sound coming from the crib - the soft, whimpering sound of a baby in distress., and his heart sank as he remembered that he hadn't checked on his son since he woke up.

"fuck hoon!" he cursed himself & dropped the towel and rushed toward the crib in living room he saw the baby in his crib, tears streaming down his face, suckling on his thumb desperately.

"Oh, oh no," he said, He picked up the baby, feeling the wet and sticky diaper. "I'm so sorry, little one. I forgot,"

The baby whimpered and snuggled closer to Sunghoon, seeking comfort.

"Shh, shh," Sunghoon said gently, cradling the baby in his arms. "I've got you. Let's get you cleaned up and fed, okay?"

Sunghoon carried the baby to the bathroom and began to prepare a bath for him. He filled the bath tub with warm water and added some baby wash, making sure the water wasn't too hot or cold.

"It's okay," he murmured to the baby as he lowered him into the water. "We're going to get you all cleaned up, and then we'll feed you. Sunghoon sat on tool baby in his arms

Sunghoon gently washed him, being extra careful with his sensitive skin. He poured water over the baby's body, washing away the dried spit-ups and caked-on drool.

The baby looked up at him with large, trusting eyes as Sunghoon gently washed his body, being careful around his sensitive areas. The baby seemed to relax slightly, enjoying the warm water and the soothing sound of his father's voice.

Sunghoon kept talking to the baby as he worked, trying to keep him calm and comfortable.

"You're a good boy," he whispered.

"You didn't cry out, even though you were hungry. Are you still upset with papa? For yelling last night? Is that why you didnt cry? Hm?"

"Papa is sorry little one pls don't do that again.. you're such a strong boy you know?"

The baby seemed to understand the tone of his father's voice, and he cooed softly, reaching out to touch Sunghoon's face. Sunghoon smiled at him, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over him.

As he washed the baby, Sunghoon couldn't help but feel guilty for forgetting about him.

He had been so focused on himself and his own relaxation that he hadn't heard the baby's soft, quiet cries. He vowed to be more attentive in the future and to make sure his son's needs were prioritized above his own

He finished washing the baby and lifted him out of the tub, wrapping him in a soft, warm fluffy baby towel.

The baby cuddled closer to him, letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

Sunghoon smiled down at the baby, feeling a wave of affection wash over him. He knew he had made a mistake, forgetting to check on his son earlier.

But now he felt grateful that the baby hadn't cried and had remained patient.

"That's better," Sunghoon said, gently drying the baby's body with the towel. As he sat down on couch.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Sunghoon was staning acroos the balcony holding the baby in his arms.

He held the baby close to his chest, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he watched the baby drink from the bottle.

He spoke softly to the baby, whispering comforting words. "There you go, little one," he said. "You're getting nice and full now. You must have been so hungry papa is sorry.."

The baby suckled eagerly at the rubber nipple of the bottle, his tiny hands grasping the fabric of Sunghoon's shirt.

He looked up at his father with wide, curious eyes, seeming to listen intently to the soothing words he was whispering.

Sunghoon smiled down at the baby, his heart swelling with affection.

Sunghoon was watching the baby closely, his heart swelling with love and tenderness.

"That's my boy," he murmured, "Drink up. You must have been so hungry, waiting for me to feed you. I'm sorry I took so long."

The baby continued to drink, his eyes never leaving his father's face.

Sunghoon couldn't help but chuckle at the serious expression on the baby's tiny face. It was as if he was trying to concentrate completely on the task at hand, making sure he didn't miss a single drop of milk.

Sunghoon continued to talk softly to him, telling him how much he loved him and how proud he was to be his father.

"You're such a good boy, So patient and strong."

The room was quiet except for the sound of the baby's suckling and Sunghoon's gentle voice.

It was a moment of pure peace and connection between father and son, a moment that Sunghoon wished could last forever.

As the baby finished drinking, he let out a soft burping sound. Sunghoon laughed quietly and gently patted the baby's back, helping him to let out the gas.

"Better?" he asked, cradling the baby against his chest again "Good job," he said, patting the baby's back softly.

"You drank that whole bottle like a champ. You're a growing boy, aren't you?"

He lifted the baby up to his shoulder and patted his back gently, waiting for another burp.

The baby snuggled closer to him, his tiny body warm and soft against Sunghoon's chest.

as he checked the time on his phone it was 9 am, his shift is in 10 he sighed heavily.

He rocked the baby gently in his arms, start speaking softly to him again.

"You're my whole world, you know that? Everyone left me.. i have no one instead of you little one."

talking about everyone tears filled corner of his eye he sobs trying to held back his tears.

"I love you so much," he whispered, running a gentle hand over the baby's soft, velvety hair.

"More than anything in the world. And I promise I'll do better from now on. I won't neglect you like I did earlier. You're my top priority from now, okay?"

"You're such a good boy," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of the baby's head. "I'm so sorry I didn't feed you as soon as you woke up. I promise I'll be better from now on. You come first, always."

The baby cuddled closer to him, seemingly satisfied and content after his meal. He held him close, feeling overcome with love and a fierce protectiveness.

The baby babbled softly, seemed to understand the words, as if he was listening intenly to every syllable. He continued look up at his father,

his small tiny hands reaching up to touch Sunghoon's cheek, as if he could understand the words being spoken to him.

Sunghoon felt a lump form in his throat at the gesture, touched by his son's innocent sweetness..

he suddenly heard door bell ring, "who could it be at this time?" he thought to himself, he didn't gave anyone his this address nor even any friend's or family.. he stepped forward to open toward door the baby was still in his arm..

°☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆°

____________TO BE CONTINUED..

(I didn't recheck so unsee my mistakes in grammar spelling I hope you guys enjoyed the first one chap look forward for more. Do note & reblog🍃 & let me know your opinion pls :' ()

[cryptidcorners]

Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!

~ Mike Schmidt x Reader ~

= Title: Friendly Nostalgia

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights At Freddie's

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: The aftermath of Mike's job as a security guard had got him thinking, as well as tripled his internal hardships. In an attempt to cool his troubling mind, Mike decides to go into his old library to find one of his favorite literatures, and maybe a new friend along the way.

= Request: "Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!"

= Tags: Fluff ! Small Angst? Librarian Reader + Setting, Shy Mike, Sweet Talk, One-Shot, Platonic (with Slight Romantic Implications? It's up for you to decide !) + Reader is !Fem

= Warnings: Childhood Trauma + Kidnapping Mentions, Child Death/Spirits, Struggles with Mental Health (Depression, Anxiety, Stress) + FNAF Movie Spoilers !

Morning birds flocked through the featherweighted clouds thinning across the fresh sky. A chilled exhale rattled out of Mike's throat, the cold dawning air nipping at his skin. His head was foggy with exhaustion, yet flickering with soft excitement. The streets were empty, much to his content. Crowded boulevards and sputtering car exhaust muddied his senses, he hated it more than anything.

He shoved his reddened hands down his pockets to shield the breezes from his fingertips. Mike hated the overwhelming traits of the outside world even more after his accursed job as a solo-unit of security. The crumbled children in the machines, Vanessa wilting away within her hospital bed and William. It was too much and he couldn't handle it.

This whole mess was the reason he was heading towards his local library, one he hadn't stepped in the years. It was the only place he was comfortable visiting now. It was quiet, no people to talk to, and he'd be able to pluck out his favorite contents in peace.

Mike had been particularly fixated on Sherlock Holmes, lately. The whole idea of mysteries had made him want to learn more, even after being injured at Freddie's. Weirdly enough, after scavenging through his old contents, it unraveled more and more about what happened those dreaded nights ago.

Mike hummed quietly as he lazily pushed the glass door. The silence calmed his senses. There were a few locals, but they were buried between pages. After awkwardly exposing his card and being gently discarded to explore the aisles alone. He started trailing around the mystery section. He couldn't pick one story, so he was doing nothing but strolling.

"Do you need some help?" A voice peaked his shoulders for a flash. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, sir."

You apologized, your voice was soothed. Mike shook his head gently, "No, no. It's fine, don't worry."

A smile spreads across your lips and you read the aisle with an eager eye. "You like mystery?"

"I've just gotten into it, really." Mike slid his hands through his curls promptly. It was strange how comfortable he felt, it felt tender, weird enough. "It's a sweet genre. I like it when it keeps me guessing. Gets my mind off everything."

"Yeah. Fiction is a great outlet, that's why I became a librarian." You explained warmly, "It's something I've always dreamed of."

Mike released a breathy chuckle in response, unsure how to reply.

You extended your hand towards the neatly rowed bookshelf, trailing your finger until you slipped out a rough looking cover. Your eyes wandered to him, "You like Sherlock Holmes?"

"He's actually the reason I'm here." Mike tilted his head lightly with a calmed grin. He had no idea why he felt so comfortable around some random librarian girl he had just met, but he had no internal reason to question it. "I have a few of his stories at my house, my little sister found them."

"That's adorable," you brushed your cheek. "Maybe you'd like this one. Personally, I think it's one of his most underrated works." You handed him the book, and his eyes flickered up and down in interest.

"Wow,"

"Cool right?"

Mike nodded.

"I don't think I've seen you before here, uh," You trailed off.

"Oh. Oh, sorry, I'm Mike. Mike Schmidt," He shook your hand softly. "I actually haven't been here in a long time."

You arched a brow, face still settled, "What made you come back?"

"Well, first off, Sherlock Holmes." He shook the book lightly with a low chuckle. "And, well, work. It's been hard, so, I thought I could read a bit to calm things down."

You curled down to pile some scattered books in your hand, "Well, I hope you come back again, Mike. Maybe we can talk about some more stories, outside of here of course. I get a bit loud with stories."

You both chuckled, "I'll come back. I could always use some more mystery." Mike had been clutching the book with eager hands, along with a fluttered expression. He hadn't connected with someone in quite a while. It felt refreshing.

"Well, I have to get back to work. Goodbye, Mike." You stirred back into the halls. Mike whispered in response. "Thank you,"

He wanted to talk more, but, he didn't want to hold you back. Mike's eyes flew down to the hard-leathered surface. He chewed his lip,

I should have asked her for her name . . .

And with that thought resting heavily in his mind, Mike left the library, with a giddy attitude and a little too many mystery books in his hands.

[tonysbed]

pages of horror | OP81

Oscar Piastri x autistic!reader

!AUTISTIC READER!

Summary: Oscar realised how burnt out you actually were..

warnings: burn out, stress, autism

mental health masterlist | main masterlist

Oscar Piastri was living his dream, racing on the global stage with the roar of engines and the thrill of the track fueling his every move. But alongside his meteoric rise, there was a quieter, equally remarkable story unfolding: that of his girlfriend, who was balancing the demands of university and the emotional rollercoaster of supporting Oscar’s racing career. She navigated her courses with determination and attended his races whenever possible, her dedication unwavering despite the toll it took on her.

For the most part, she managed to juggle it all. Early mornings spent in the library, afternoons filled with lectures, and weekends at the track. She found comfort in the routine, even as the demands increased. But as the semester wore on, the weight of it all began to bear down on her.

She was exhausted. Her mind, always so sharp, felt foggy. Simple tasks became monumental challenges. The sensory overload of the university, with its bustling crowds and endless noise, left her feeling raw and exposed. She was running on fumes, barely managing to keep up with her assignments and attend Oscar’s races.

Oscar noticed her growing fatigue but attributed it to the typical stresses of university life. "Everyone gets overwhelmed with school," he’d say, offering a reassuring smile. He’d seen other friends burn out, only to bounce back after a good night’s sleep or a weekend off. He figured she just needed a bit of rest.

But it wasn’t just school stress. It was everything. The constant pressure to excel academically, the sensory overload, the emotional strain of maintaining a long-distance relationship, and the physical exhaustion of travel. She was spiraling into a period of severe burnout, and Oscar’s well-intentioned but misguided reassurances did little to ease her burden.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, she broke down. The tears came unbidden, a flood of frustration, exhaustion, and despair. Oscar found her sitting on the edge of their bed, head in her hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, rushing to her side. "What's wrong?"

She tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. All the emotions she’d bottled up for so long were now threatening to overflow. Oscar wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she cried. For the first time, he truly saw the depth of her struggle.

"I’m so sorry," she whispered through her tears. "I’m trying so hard, but it’s all too much."

Oscar felt a pang of guilt. He’d been so focused on his own career that he hadn’t realized how much she was sacrificing, how much she was struggling. He kissed her forehead gently. "You don’t have to do this alone," he said softly. "We’ll figure this out together."

The next day, Oscar helped her arrange a meeting with her academic advisor. She explained her situation, and together, they came up with a plan to lighten her course load and provide the support she needed. Oscar insisted on taking her to every appointment, standing by her side as she navigated the university’s bureaucracy.

At home, Oscar made sure she took the time to rest. He ran her baths, the warm water soothing her frayed nerves. They spent quiet evenings together, watching movies or simply sitting in comfortable silence. He took over cooking and cleaning, ensuring she had one less thing to worry about.

Gradually, she began to recover. The fog in her mind lifted, and the overwhelming fatigue started to ebb away. She was still navigating the challenges of university and supporting Oscar’s career, but now she had the support she needed.

Oscar learned to recognize the signs of her burnout and took steps to prevent it, whether that meant encouraging her to take a break or simply holding her hand and reminding her that she wasn’t alone. They became a team in the truest sense, each supporting the other in their dreams and struggles.

And as Oscar continued to race towards new victories, he knew that none of it would be possible without the love and strength of the woman by his side.

[neotomiccccc]

All Saints Street Infection Au!

I know I cant be the only one whose tiktok fyp is full of mlp infection videos atm and if theres one thing i love its SMASHING my interests together like theyre fucking cymbals SO HERES THE FIRST POST OF MY WSJ VIRUS/APOCALYPSE AU...

The breakdown is this:

A virus breaks out which can affect humans and monsters alike. There is no known cure except for swift amputation of the infected area. Once a certain amount of time has passed, it's too late for this to happen, and the diseased will slowly succumb to a mutated state, before finally death.

Angels, for the first few weeks of the viruses existence, are found to be naturally immune to the disease. It's theorised that this is because of their purifying properties.

Neil is infected with the disease by the fourth week since the outbreak, and by week five is in the middle stages. He hasn't told anyone out of fear, and also out of denial and the belief he'll just get better. He doesn't. At some point, he struggles to hide his symptoms anymore and Lily is the one to discover his infection. Together they make the difficult decision that Lily will have to kill Neil as an act of mercy before he gets any worse and becomes dangerous. Lynn hears Lily crying, and finds her sobbing over Neil's body. The two return to camp and are forced to tell Nick what happened - they are unable to bring Neil back with them because of the infection risk.

Lily has taken the role of defending the makeshift camp from the mutated late-stage diseased. She is ambitious, but Neil's death is traumatic for her and she often finds her brain foggy and dull where she used to be concentrated and sharp. After a small injury, Lynn begs and even forbids Lily from fighting off the diseased until she is fully healed, but Lily can't cope with the thought of putting more people, especially her brother, in danger by not fighting. While defending the base, Lily becomes overwhelmed and while her death is brutal, it is at the very least, swift.

Nick is bitten on the lower leg very early on, and Lynn has to amputate in order to stop the disease from spreading. This is successful, but it does leave Nick with a severe disadvantage. Despite this, he is very resourceful, a fast thinker and a great resource at the base. After Neil's death, he goes into denial, partially blaming himself for not keeping a closer eye on his little brother. As time goes on, the nightmares and dreams about Neil become too much for him, and he almost stops sleeping altogether. This only furthers his worsening mental health, and he slowly becomes more impulsive and aggressive.

Lynn originally served as a medic and healer for the group, being the one to deal with wounds and examine potential infections. Despite being the most calm and put-together individual at the start of the outbreak, he suffers a brutal downfall. Shortly after the news comes out that the virus has mutated so that angels are no longer immune, Lynn loses the vast majority of his wings to a mutant - and only a few days after, Lily is killed in a similar incident. After losing Lily and suffering severe physical and psychological trauma, Lynn is reduced to a state where he very rarely speaks or does anything other than stare off into the distance. Nick and he still spend a lot of time together despite this, even if there is not much conversation to be had.

Characters that I haven't drawn in this AU yet:

Abu's anxieties become his saviour - by barricading himself in his own shelter and rarely leaving, Abu manages to survive despite minor injuries through sheer isolation. This does mean however, that he is needed more and more as others begin to succumb to the illness. Will he be able to overcome his fear, or is it better to stay holed up until a cure is found?

Ira gets infected during the fifth week, but the virus goes unnoticed in him for quite a while, as he does not show regular symptoms and is a bit of an anomaly. He also does not know he has been infected until he begins to lose himself. By the time Ira knows what's happening, he's already too far gone.

Damao is infected by a stray dog very early into the outbreak. He quickly notices his body beginning to rot and fearing for the safety of his friends, he runs away and goes into hiding. The next time the group sees damao, he has to fight for internal control in order not to hurt anyone, and does so for just enough time for the group to escape. The time after that, the group run into a horribly mutated monster that barely resembles a canine anymore.

Luis is confused at first about his potential immunity - he's already a zombie, but as it would seem, this virus is a different beast entirely, so he's not as immune as he thought. He manages to last a while, despite losing several body parts, but he too eventually is infected by a mutant, and transforms before the group.

Momo was one of the first to be infected, catching the virus from a stray cat. She is the reason that the group realise the severity and true horror of the virus - seeing her mutilated state is enough to convince anyone to abandon the city and run for a rural area to go into hiding.

Crystal is tough and is used to fighting. She doesn't hesitate to put mutants out of their misery, even though their screams haunt her later. By virtue of her toughness and perseverance, she is able to be one of the few survivors, but she struggles to deal with the amount of blood on her hands, even if she knows it was the only thing she could have done.

[transform4u]

I woke up this morning and found out Id been hacked, and the hacker had sent my nerdy best friend a file named “americanalphajockbro.mp3” but I have no idea what it is. I tried messaging him to tell him not to listen to it, but he’s not responding at all. I hope he’s okay, Id heard some strange virus is going around…

As you open the “americanalphajockbro.mp3” file, the initial silence stretches, an eerie quietness that seems almost too perfect. Then, out of the nothingness, a faint buzzing begins to permeate the stillness. The sound starts as a low, persistent hum, like an electric current struggling to stabilize. It has a metallic edge, a synthetic quality that seems to vibrate through the very air.

Gradually, the buzzing evolves into a more aggressive noise, filled with discordant grunts and the harsh clashing of metal. The grunts grow more pronounced, each one carrying a weight of effort and strain. The metal crashes with a forceful clanging, resonating like a rhythmic hammer pounding on a forge. These sounds start to take on a rhythmic pattern, as if forming a chaotic symphony of power and exertion.

Your head begins to feel a fogginess creeping in, a mental haze that obscures clarity. Thoughts become sluggish, like trying to wade through thick, heavy fog. It’s as though your mind is being weighed down by the intensity of the noises, struggling to keep up with the rapidly increasing din.

The grunts, now louder and more insistent, echo within your consciousness. Each grunt feels like a reverberation through your very being, growing in intensity until they seem to invade every corner of your thoughts. The metal clashes turn into a cacophony of discordant clangs, overwhelming your senses and making it difficult to discern any other sound.

Amidst the growing chaos, a country song begins to hum softly in the background, an incongruous yet persistent melody that seems to contrast with the tumultuous noises. The twang of the guitar and the mellow tones of the vocals create a strange juxtaposition against the harsh clashing and grunting, adding a layer of surreal calmness to the sensory overload.

As this soundscape continues, a heat starts to radiate from within your body, an intense warmth that spreads outward. The heat seems to emanate from deep inside, radiating over you with a force that feels almost tangible. It courses through your veins, a vivid, encompassing heat that contrasts starkly with the foggy confusion of your mind.

The heat seems to transform your weak, nerdy frame, melting away the previous state of vulnerability. You start to envision a powerful, muscular form emerging from the haze. Your body morphs into a formidable ensemble of muscle and sinew. The V-shaped torso, broad and well-defined shoulders, and meticulously developed muscles become apparent. Each muscle group is a testament to rigorous training—chiseled chest, bulging biceps and triceps, and abs carved into a six-pack of relentless effort.

The veins running along your newly formidable arms and legs are visible networks of strength, evidence of intense commitment to physical fitness. Your posture is now relaxed yet exudes confidence, each movement fluid and deliberate, reflecting an effortless grace born from intense training.

Your face transforms as well. The strong jawline, rugged charm, high cheekbones, and tanned skin speak of both determination and an active lifestyle. Your eyes, now sharp and twinkling with charisma, are set beneath well-defined brows. The smile that emerges is wide and inviting, revealing meticulously maintained teeth.

The once weak and nerdy body has become a powerful, charismatic all-American jock bro—a figure of physical prowess and approachable charm.

As the buzzing in your mind intensifies, it feels like a wildfire racing through a dry forest, consuming every memory in its path. The flames of change lick away at the remnants of your past, turning them to ash and scattering them into the wind. The once-vivid recollections of late-night Dungeons & Dragons campaigns with friends, the thrill of staying up to catch the latest Doctor Who episode or Spider-Man movie, and the satisfaction of acing every math quiz—these are now nothing more than fading echoes in the wake of the blaze. They're fucking lame as shit.

Those cherished pastimes, once a vibrant part of your identity, now feel distant and trivial, like old, tattered pages in a forgotten book. In their place, a new fervor takes root. Your mind floods with the adrenaline of football games, the satisfaction of rigorous workouts, the robust flavor of protein shakes, and the thrill of flirting with girls. Conversations revolve around gains and flexing muscles, and the smell of BBQ fills the air.

This patriotic passion grows within you, a swelling wave of fervor that crashes against every corner of your psyche. The colors of red, white, and blue seem to paint your thoughts, and the anthem of America plays on a loop in your mind. The very essence of American pride becomes a driving force, a relentless and invigorating surge that propels you forward.

Simultaneously, your appearance begins to transform to match this new identity. Your clothes morph seamlessly into the quintessential American bro attire: a snug, muscle-hugging tank top that highlights your sculpted physique, shorts that showcase powerful legs, and a cap worn backward for that classic casual look. The emblem of a of the Patriots adorns your shirt, and a pair of well-worn sneakers completes the ensemble. Every article of clothing seems to echo your newfound vigor and pride, reflecting the powerful, confident American jock that you’ve become.

Your entire being now resonates with an energetic and unapologetic American spirit, a blend of muscular strength, athletic prowess, and patriotic zeal.

You feel a surge of energy as you receive the text from your bro about hitting the gym and then heading to the bars to pick up chicks. Your old gay thoughts, which used to fill your mind with doubt and uncertainty, disappear in an instant, replaced by a burning desire for muscle growth and American pride.

As you enter the gym, you notice how much stronger and more confident you feel compared to when you first started lifting weights. The sound of grunts and clanging weights fills your ears as bros surround you - their gazes lingering on your impressive physique before returning back to their workouts. You grab a barbell loaded with plates and begin warming up by doing some squats and deadlifts; each movement challenging yet manageable under the weight of this newfound masculinity coursing through your veins.

After an hour-long session at the gym where sweat mixes with dirt from yesterday's football game, it's time for some well-deserved rest before hitting up downtown where all the action is happening tonight! You hop into your truck decked out with American flags stickers - ready not only for another round at lifting but also primed for picking up chicks who appreciate real men like yourself.

You stroll confidently into the bar, taking in the sights and sounds around you. The smell of beer and sweat fills your nostrils as bros jostle for position at the bar counter. Your eyes land on a bimbo chick with huge tits who catches your attention immediately - she's exactly what you're looking for tonight!

"Dude, check out that chick over there," you say to your bro while pointing her out. "She has a pair of cans on her that could launch an aircraft carrier!" You both burst into laughter at how crude yet accurate your observation is.

As she walks past, making sure to sway those hips just right so they catch every man's gaze, she glances over at you and smiles coyly before returning her focus back to her friends sitting nearby. "I bet she wants me bad," you think to yourself as lust fills every pore in your body like an adrenaline rush.

Without hesitation or any concern for respecting women (because let's face it - these types don't deserve it), you move towards your target while casually catcalling from behind: "Hey baby! Wanna ride the Rodester?

The bimbo chick laughs dumbly at your crude joke, clearly not understanding the double entendre but enjoying the attention nonetheless. She then approaches you and starts feeling up your muscles, complimenting how strong they are while simultaneously calling you an idiot for making such a lame pick-up line.

Ignoring her insults, you grab her ass and pull her in for a kiss - taking control of the situation as any true alpha male would do. Her lips are soft against yours as she moans into the kiss, encouraging more aggressive advances from you both on this bar stool that's becoming increasingly uncomfortable under all this heat generated by two bodies colliding together so passionately.

Your bro orders another round of drinks; while you firmly place your around one of those massive melons hanging off this girl's chest as if you owned them.

As you continue making out with the bimbo chick, your mind wanders to thoughts of how much fun it is to be a fucking American bro. You have big muscles, and you take what you want without giving a shit about anyone else's feelings or opinions. Getting drunk, fucking, and working out are your life - they define who you are as an individual in this world filled with weaklings and pussies who don't understand the true meaning of masculinity.

Drinking shot after shot helps fuel this fire burning inside you- pushing your boundaries further than ever before! You don't care about consequences or repercussions because you know deep down that being an American Bro means living life on your own terms without apology or regret for those left behind scrambling to catch up with you at every turn.

[virtualreader]

i've got your back

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: Rick calms you down after your social anxiety takes over during the Alexandria welcome party.

word count: 1,2k.

warnings: panic attack, social anxiety, not proofread.

People. Too many people. The crowd was a sea of unknown faces, each one lost in the chaos of the moment.

The noise was deafening, even to your half-numbed senses. A constant uproar seemed to fill every inch of available space, and that, you just could not handle.

You felt yourself becoming overwhelmed, unable to process the sensory overload that was assaulting you on all sides. You struggled to make sense of the chaos around you, and you felt your heart start to race as panic set in.

The clingy, ebony-colored dress you half-heartedly wore had never felt as suffocating as it did now. The silky fabric was glued to your increasingly sweaty skin, making it hard to breathe. And your heart hammered violently in your chest.

Were you having a heart attack? No, that couldn't be it, could it?

You remained stiffly seated on the living room couch. Your house’s living room couch, which was positioned squarely in the middle of the room, right where everyone could see you.

They weren’t all looking at you, were they?

It definitely felt just as if they actually were.

You desperately wished for someone to come and rescue you from this suffocating ordeal, as you wondered why you did agree on assisting this stupid ‘welcoming party’ in the first place. Perhaps it had been the persuasive pleas of Rick, or it had just possibly been your fervent desire of fitting in with the community. Either way, you were regretting your decision.

You closed your eyes and tried to regulate your breathing, but it felt like an impossible task. The more determined your attempts to suck in a big breath of air became, the more difficult it was not to hyperventilate.

You felt like you were drowning in a sea of noise and chaos, and you were desperate for a lifeline.

“You alright, kiddo?” Rick asked you, a concerned expression plastered on his face, as his hand rested on your shoulder, vaguely catching your attention.

He knew that you weren't fond of socializing with new people and that you weren't the most talkative person, at least until you warmed up to them, which usually took quite a while. But as the apocalyptic uncivilization had never demanded you to go through social interactions of this magnitude, he hadn’t had the opportunity to get to actually see you undergo proper anxiety attack.

Contrary to what one might think, Rick’s worried gesture not only failed to help, but actually threw your mind directly into the swirl of thoughts you had been trying to avoid with great effort.

Was it so obvious you were struggling?

Had anyone else noticed?

Everyone was looking at you by now, that's for sure.

God, you were so bad at feigning normal.

This was so humiliating.

When the mental anguish you endured overmatched the limit, you stormed off out of the house, scurrying to the front yard in search of a quiet place. Anywhere safe to hang around until your senses unwind and your foggy mind cleared a little.

What you wished to be Rick’s hand gripped your wrist, bringing your hurried pace to an abrupt halt. He turned you around to face him, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said in a soothing voice. "Let's go somewhere quieter, just the two of us, and take a breather.”

You nod slowly, grateful for the out he's providing you. Rick takes your hand and leads you to a secluded corner of the yard, away from the clamor of the party. You sit down on a bench together, and Rick puts his arm around you, holding you close.

Escaping from the loud uproar of the party helped ease your troubled state to a small extent. However, the uneasiness had not completely left your core, and the silence now felt too quiet.

Rick’s gaze was drawn to the frenzied movement of your chest as it rapidly rose and fell in a seemingly uncontrollable manner. It was as if you were struggling to contain an intense and overwhelming emotion, the intensity of which was palpable in the rapidity of your breaths. Rick couldn't help but wonder what could be causing such a reaction in you.

"You've gotta breathe, sweetheart," he said in an antsy voice, his eyes filled with concern.

He could see the anxiety taking over your body, your heart racing and your breaths coming in short gasps. He placed a hand on your shoulder, feeling the tension in your muscles.

"Let's relax a little," he suggested, thinking about his next move.

“Imma hug ya now, is that alright with ya, kiddo?”

You took a rest in between sobs and nodded ever so little Rick hardly perceived it.

His tender embrace grounded your swirling mind almost immediately. Rick's arms circled your shivering body, bringing your head to his chest. If only you were completely aware and not in the foggy state of mind you found yourself in, you would have noticed how carefully he held you, not squeezing too hard or suffocating you.

"Follow my breaths. In," he instructed, as his chest slowly yet fully rose. "And out.”

You felt yourself slowly calming down as Rick's warmth enveloped you, his steady heartbeat acting as a soothing lullaby. You focused on the feeling of his arms around you and the sound of his breathing, allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of his embrace.

"So, what did we get all worked up about, huh?" Rick questioned once he saw you relaxing a bit.

You managed a small smile, feeling a bit better now. "Just wasn't feeling up to all the noise and chaos," you admitted, your voice still shaky.

Rick nodded, understanding. "I get that," he said softly. "Sometimes it's just too much."

You stood there for a few moments in silence, admiring the sunset over the safe wall. The orange and pink hues painted the skyline, creating a serene atmosphere that seemed to calm your nerves.

"I'm so sorry," Rick apologized profusely. "It's entirely my fault that you're in this difficult situation. I feel terrible about the fact that I dragged you to this party, knowing full well that it was going to be a wild and crazy affair.”

"No, don't be sorry," you said. "I've got a pretty messed up mind, Rick. And that is in no way your fault.”

Rick smiled at you, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. "You don't have a messed up mind, kiddo," he said gently. "You just have a harder time dealing with all of this than most people. And that's okay. We all have our own struggles."

You felt a wave of gratitude wash over you at his words, feeling understood and accepted in a way that you hadn't before. You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling safe and comforted in his presence.

"Thanks, Rick," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice warm and reassuring. "You know I've got your back, right?"

[gepardling]

what if reader had a one night stand w gepard? for him it was his first time and he can’t forget about reader and longs to see her again🧐

fleeting embers w/ gepard.

desc. : the once-a-week upload schedule will b customary while i am back at university sowwy ♥︎ i had fun wit dis 1 !! it was very cute writing geppie's reaction :) i kept the ending open-ended for now ( wc : 1.3k )

tags / cw : sfw (implications of sex), fluff-ish (more flirty), gepard is struggling mentally (real), gn!reader, not proofread

Gepard values his pristine reputation. He is a man of discipline, and despite his lineage, worked hard to get where he is in life. Growing up in the shadow of his family's name was no easy feat. Expectations were high, and the weight of their legacy could have overwhelmed a lesser soul. However, Gepard embraced the challenge with unwavering resolve. He wanted to stand tall on his own merits, with accomplishments that were truly his own.

It wasn't just his physical prowess that defined him. Gepard's true strength lay in his unyielding sense of honor and duty. He held himself to the highest standards, refusing to compromise on his principles. It was this unwavering integrity that earned him the respect of his fellow guards and commanders alike. In a world where corruption and deceit were not uncommon, Gepard stood as a beacon of righteousness.

Yet, amidst his unwavering dedication to his role as a Silvermane Guard, Gepard was still human. Behind that stoic facade, there lay a heart that longed for connection and understanding. He yearned for companionship, but the fear of compromising his professional image held him back. Relationships, especially romantic ones, were delicate territory for someone in his position.

Despite his discipline, Gepard had a tendency to struggle with resisting peer pressure, especially when it came to bonding with his fellow Silvermane Guards. He was often urged to join his comrades for a night of camaraderie and revelry, but the fear of things going awry held him back. However, after much persistent begging from his brothers in arms, Gepard finally gave in and decided to join them for a night of drinks.

Though he remained mindful of his intake, the warmth of the alcohol seemed to soften his resolve ever so slightly. Surrounded by the laughter and camaraderie of his comrades, Gepard found himself feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. In this vulnerable moment, he crossed paths with a captivating stranger. Your mischievous gaze and gentle laugh charmed him, subtly breaking down those walls he kept up around his heart.

Uncharacteristically, Gepard allowed himself to be swept away by the night's events, giving in to the spontaneity of the moment. It was an unexpected and impulsive decision, one that he would later come to question. As the night wore on, the connection deepened, and boundaries blurred. He followed you through the city like a lost puppy, the subtle wave of your hand beckoning him to follow you to the nearest hotel.

As the first rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, Gepard slowly stirred from his slumber, his mind foggy from the previous night's events. For a moment, he struggled to make sense of his surroundings, and as his eyes adjusted, he was met with an unfamiliar sight. This was not his own bedroom. Panic shot through him like a bolt of lightning, and he sat up abruptly, his heart pounding in his chest.

It all came rushing back to him in a whirlwind of emotions and fragmented memories. The Goethe hotel room, the intoxicating laughter, the captivating stranger who had drawn him in with such ease. It was his first time, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He had crossed a boundary he never thought he would, and now he was waking up in a bed that was not his own.

The silence of the room was deafening as he tried to collect his thoughts. He didn't even know the name of the person who shared this intimate moment with him. The fear of the unknown gnawed at him, and he couldn't help but wonder what might have transpired during the night. Had he done something he would regret? Did he say things he shouldn't have?

Gepard's mind raced, but before he could unravel the full extent of the situation, there was a soft knock on the door. His heart leaped into his throat, and he hesitated before calling out a cautious "Yes?" but he realized a moment too late that his naked form was covered with one measly sheet.

The door creaked open, and the Goethe hotel receptionist peeked inside. Their gaze met, and Gepard could feel the weight of their unspoken question. The receptionist's silent stare peered over the rim of their glasses, right into Gepard’s soul. It was a glance that made his heart sink even further into his stomach.

With a professional smile, the receptionist simply said, "Breakfast will be served in the dining area shortly, sir. Please take your time." Then they closed the door, leaving Gepard alone with his thoughts. In that moment, Gepard couldn't help but feel a sense of shame and embarrassment. The awkward encounter was just his luck, and it was definitely not the image he wanted people to remember.

As he got up from the bed, he found a note left by the stranger, a name signed at the bottom. Mixed emotions surged within him as he read the name, his full memory of the night crashing down on him all at once. He remembered the gentle touch of your hands, your plush thighs, gentle kisses. His cheeks flared when he realized he had done things he didn’t even know he was capable of. But despite all this, the image of your face remained clouded.

After getting dressed, leaving the hotel was difficult enough. Every staff member he passed sent him a knowing glance – the walk of shame. Not only that, but he found out that you made the tab to be in his name, leaving him to pay for the hotel room. The receptionist could only shrug in response, once again peeking at him over their glasses.

In the days that followed the memorable night, Gepard found it increasingly difficult to focus on his duties as a Silvermane Guard. His mind would often drift back to you, and despite his best efforts to maintain composure, the memories of that night would creep into his thoughts at the most inconvenient times, causing an embarrassing blush to spread across his cheeks.

On patrol, he would catch himself daydreaming, his mind wandering into unsavory territory, replaying moments he had shared with you. It was a constant battle to keep his thoughts in check, especially when he had to interact with others and couldn't afford any distractions. He cursed himself for letting his guard down, for allowing himself to be swept away by a night of passion that was now becoming a source of distraction.

But amid the embarrassment and the struggle to keep his thoughts under control, there was a part of Gepard that couldn't help but smile at the memories. As the days passed, he found himself cherishing those moments with you, the connection he had felt, and the vulnerability he had allowed himself to experience. It was both thrilling and terrifying, and he couldn't deny the longing that still lingered in his heart.

However, he couldn't bring himself to ask around about you. The fear of others finding out about the night you had shared made him hesitate. He was afraid of the judgment and the speculation that might come with such revelations. Not only that, but all he knew was your name and the bar you had met at. So, instead, he kept his thoughts to himself, burying them deep within his heart.

As the days turned into weeks, the marks you had left on Gepard started to fade. The blush on his cheeks grew less frequent, and he tried to convince himself that he was moving on from that night. He focused on his duties with renewed determination, pushing himself harder to distract from the memories that threatened to resurface. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't completely forget you.

Locked in conversation with another Silvermane Guard, his heart skipped a beat as he heard your voice echo from around the corner. He came to an abrupt halt as he instinctively turned his attention towards the source of the sound. He felt a rush of emotions flood back, memories of that unforgettable night intertwining with the present moment.

For the first time, he could remember your face, the glint in your eyes and that signature smile that punctuated the evening. But reality quickly pulled him back, and his heart pounded in his chest as he wrestled with his emotions. He knew he couldn't let himself get lost in the past, not now, not when he had responsibilities to uphold.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to regain his composure, forcing a smile as he turned back to his fellow guard. "Sorry about that," he said, trying to sound casual despite the lingering tremor in his voice. "What were we talking about again?"

will geppie go after you? or will he finally let you go?? (we win these)

[jacksdinonuggets]

For hurt/comfort, how about Vaggie is having a bad autism day and regresses so big brother Angel helps calm her down?

of course!

tw: meltdowns, mention of Valentino, and mention of blood

It was done. Adam was dead. Nifty had killed him, letting his golden blood spew everywhere. Everyone was really happy, especially because he had brought them so much mental and physical pain. Vaggie was pretty happy about it too. However, she would be lying if she said a part of her wasn’t a little sad. Sometimes he was like a father figure to her. Sure, he was a bit…crude at times, but he also worried and cared for his girls. It just felt like a big part of her childhood had just died.

“Soo, who's up for pancakes?” Lucifer asked. Nifty raised her hand, very excited for his sweet treat. Vaggie, not so much. She was feeling nauseous and her brain was feeling so fuzzy and foggy. Not to mention all the emotions she needed to process. They were coming at her all at once and it was really overwhelming.

Lucifer suddenly teleports all of them to the Morningstar palace. This just made Vaggie feel so much worse. Her surroundings changed so fast. Change wasn’t good. She needed to go back to the rubble! But she couldn’t without being seen as weird or it being a waste of time.

“There's a couple of guest rooms you guys can take. Wash up while I go get the pancakes ready!” he tells them before disappearing into the kitchen.

Everything was too much. Why did he teleport them?! Why couldn’t they just walk?! She needed to slowly go through change. Not this! She needed to shower. She wanted these itchy feathers stuck to her with blood off. She really hoped she would get to the shower first. Charlie always took forever with showers.

“Hey Hun? I’m gonna go get washed up. Wanna shower with me?” Charlie asked. No, vaggie did not. Charlie talked too much when they were alone and she really didn’t want to hear that right now. She just wanted to be alone. She wanted to lay down in her crib in the nursery. She wanted to cuddle with her koala bear and suck on her paci. But she couldn’t do that because the nursery, her safe space, was gone! It was destroyed in battle.

“I-... I’m good, Char. I’ll wait,” She says. Charlie deserved to take a shower first. She had lost one of her best friends and was probably also dealing with a lot of sensory issues. 

“Okay… but if you need anything, I’ll be in our room.” Charlie assured her, walking upstairs.

Once she was out of sight, Vaggie made a beeline towards the bathroom (the ones that don’t usually have showers). She felt a meltdown coming up and did not want anyone to see her having a tantrum.

However, Angel dust saw her start running towards the bathroom as he was talking to husk. It looked like she was overwhelmed and distressed. Angel would know, his co-workers often had that look after a shoot as they ran to their dressing room. The sounds of meltdowns and panic attacks were always heard in the studio.

Concerned, Angel excused himself and followed her. He saw her enter one of the bathrooms. Instead of barging in, he waited a couple of minutes to make sure she wasn’t actually using it. 

“Vags, you okay in there?” He asked, knocking on the door. Muffled and strangled cries was his response.

“I’ll give you a few seconds to get decent if you’re not, but I will be coming in,” He announced

After waiting about 10 seconds, he got out a hair pin and started picking the lock. When he got it, he opened the door.

Poor Vaggie was curled up against the sink, banging her head on the wooden cabinets. Her hands were gripping her pants so hard that her knuckles were turning white. She choked on sobs, obviously trying to keep quiet.

“Hey, hey, Shh, it’s okay, doll” He kneels down in front of her. She pulls her head back and bangs it really hard against the cabinets. Angel winces, knowing that must’ve really hurt. He placed a hand between the cabinet and her head.

“Vaggie, sweetie, take sum deep breaths, please,” He insists. She wasn’t really hyperventilating, but it was still concerning.

She takes a few but it just forces her to let out a loud sob as tears flow. Stupid angel and his hands stopping her from injuring herself.

“I know, I know, this is very overwhelming, but you gotta calm down,” Angel sits next to her, making sure he doesn’t touch her.

He hesitates for a sec before taking off his hat. Inside of the cap was a little replica plushy of Fat Nuggets. It was very important to him. Even though he got Nugs from Val, the pig provided him a lot of comfort. The gift became separated from the gifter.

“Wanna hold him?” he asks, holding the plush out. Vaggie needed the comfort a lot more than he did right now.

Vaggie held the plush, the friendly face and soft fabric helped her calm down a little. Angel started singing soft lullabies in italian, which helped vaggie relax a lot. He was fluent and his accent was soft. With enough singing, she eventually calmed down.

“Wanna tell your big bro what happened?” Angel asked, guessing what headspace she was in.

“Evewyfing too much. Dun wanna be here. Dun wike change. Wanna go home to nuwsery…” Vaggie explains, curling up with her knees against her chest.

Angel frowned. He couldn’t really help with anything. Sure, he calmed her down, but he couldn’t bring back her safe space. 

“Wanna baf…nd cuddles” Suddenly, she leaned against Angel’s shoulder, closing her eyelids.

He smiled. At least he could help with those.

“I’ll let your Mama give you bath when she’s done showering, but I don’t mind giving you a few cuddles for now,” He said, picking her up and laying her down in his lap.

They moved to the couch in the gigantic living room to cuddle. When Charlie came back downstairs to tell Vaggie the bathroom was open, she saw Vaggie laying against Angel while sucking on her thumb. She awed, finding it adorable. They always acted like they hated each other but when Vaggie went small, Angel made it his goal to be the best big brother in the world.

[hb-writes]

The Doctor's Orders

Summary: Emma has been pushing herself too hard between her college courses and work at SIP. When she suddenly faints at the office, she's taken to the hospital. As the truth behind her fainting comes out and the repercussions start to feel overwhelming, Em finds allies in her sister-in-law and her favorite nurse.

Characters: Christian Grey, Ana Grey, and Emmeline Grey (sister!OC)

Request: Can i please request where Emma got into an accident and Christian is there with Ana. (note: I've already written about Emma getting into an accident in Replacable, so I changed this up a bit).

Warnings: adderall misuse.

Fifty Shades Masterlist

--

When Emma finally woke, it was to a quiet room, the silence only interrupted by the steady beep of a monitor to her left. The lights were off, the shades drawn, and her sister-in-law was seated in a chair pulled up close to her bedside, a blanket draped over her while she slept.

Emma’s mind was foggy as it held fast to the remaining wisps of sleep, and a list of questions began to pile up in her mind though her sore throat and slow-forming thoughts wouldn’t allow her to voice any of them. 

Why…was she at the…hospital?

Why was Ana here? 

And why was she wearing yesterday’s clothes?

Why—

Emma’s internal monologue paused as the door creaked open, her eyes drawn to the far side of the room. 

Christian looked like he hadn’t slept, his face pale and his eyes tired…his usually pristine suit rumpled beyond recognition.

“You’re awake,” he said quietly, his eyes darting to his pregnant wife for a brief moment before shifting back to his sister. 

“How…” Emma croaked, gently clearing her throat. “How long was I…?” The question drifted away as a distinct itchiness in her arm brought her awareness to the IV anchored there. 

“Leave it,” Christian warned, Emma’s subtle glare shooting toward him as he finished the directive, the needle in her arm temporarily forgotten. 

“And you’ve been out for seventeen hours,” Christian continued, answering her earlier question.

Emma nodded as though that cleared things up, as if it even helped her to determine what time it was now, but her brain couldn’t do the mental math even if she’d wanted to. She once again cleared her throat, and Christian reached for the small cup of water on the bedside table, holding it out so Emma could sip from the straw. 

“Why am I…What happened?” she asked, her voice quiet and hoarse as she formed the words. 

“You don’t remember?”

They held each other’s gaze for just a moment before Ana shifted in her chair, drawing Emma and Christian’s attention as Ana stared back at them, her sleepy gaze taking an extra moment to realize what she was seeing.

“You’re awake! Thank god,” she said, ungracefully pulling herself out of the chair so she could lean over the edge of the hospital bed and wrap Emma in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Ana started to pull away, her hands on Emma’s shoulders as she stared into her eyes. “Don’t ever do that to me again!” 

Emma swallowed, trying to remember exactly what it was she had done, but she didn’t know, almost like there was a wall up to keep that particular knowledge separate…

“You don’t remember a thing do you?” Christian’s sharp tone pulled her gaze back to the other side of the bed.

“You passed out and hit your head in the middle of a conversation. Ana had to call an ambulance.” 

She remembered being at the office. She remembered Ana telling her to stop what she was working on and head home despite the fact that she was behind in her to do list and they were on a deadline, but Emma had no memory of fainting. No memory of any of it. 

Christian leaned over to grab the chart off the end of the bed. “Sleep deprivation. Dehydration,” he listed off before flipping to the next page. “That’s what he’s diagnosed, but the doctor says your bloodwork suggests you’ve been taking something—an amphetamine of some variety.” 

Emma tensed, and it was enough that Christian clocked it, his voice immediately rising in volume and sharpness as he dropped the chart on the end of her bed. 

“Christ, Emma. What the hell were you—”

“Christian!” Ana hissed. “Do not yell at her.”

His nostrils flared as he shifted his gaze to his wife. “You think I’m yelling? Just wait until our mother hears about it.” 

Emma gulped. Christian was right. He was pissed, but she would rather endure his lecture than their mother’s, assuming that the woman didn’t go straight for some other method of dealing with it instead. Like locking her up forever and never again allowing her to see the light of day, no heed spared to the fact that she was 18 now and no longer legally a child.

“And clearly she needs to be yelled at!”

Emma cringed away from the tone. She knew it was a mistake, taking the adderall pills that her friend Izzy had offered. It was a big mistake, an idiot move. She knew that, but they had helped Emma get through finals while working at the same time, and she thought she had it under control.

She’d been careful about it, limiting herself even as she had come to rely on the pills to get by during the last few weeks. Somewhere along the line, she’d started to feel like she needed them—to study throughout the night and stay awake in classes and at work. And it had all been working out fine. She’d set limits on how much she took. She didn’t allow herself to go beyond them, and with the small dosage she allowed herself, she’d been so focused and productive. She had barely needed to pause to sleep or to eat.

“Taking drugs, Emma? Of all the idiotic things you could do…I am so—”

Ana shouted his name to cut him off, but Emma was certain her brother had intended to voice his disappointment, as if it wasn’t already inherently clear from the way he was acting that he was appalled with her choices. Emma felt a certain shame wash over her even though the words were left unsaid.

“She needs to hear this.” 

“Maybe,” Ana answered, once again pulling her unwieldy body from the chair to square up against her husband with Emma and the hospital bed between them “But it doesn’t need to happen here. Your sister needs rest. That is what the doctor said was most important.” 

“I don’t care what he said. She—”

Christian shut his mouth, heaving a few irritated, silent breaths as Ana pressed the nurse call button, bringing a familiar face—Emma’s favorite nurse—through the door. 

“Ah, sleeping beauty finally wakes from her slumber,” Sarah said as she moved to the bedside and began checking over Emma’s vitals. “I’ll notify the doctor and give you two a few minutes to clear out. Do try to keep the noise to a minimum as you go, Mr. Grey. The girls out front were debating calling security just now…” Sarah spared a glance at Christian, her gaze chastising him alone even though Ana’s outbursts had been as loud, maybe louder. “Lucky I was out there to convince them otherwise.”

Sarah was an emergency room nurse, and she’s worked alongside her mother for years. She had gotten herself moved upstairs to monitor Emma the second she had heard the Greys were in the building.

“We’ll keep it down,” Christian answered with a nod that was something close to gratitude, even though the way Sarah had said Mr. Grey had been mockingly deferential.

“Good,” Sarah answered with a nod as she moved to the end of the bed to record something in Emma’s chart. “There’s a waiting room at the end of the hall, and you know where the cafeteria is. Assuming Miss Emma wants visitors after speaking with the doctor, you’ll be—”

Christian laughed, glancing up from his phone. “I’ll be staying right here to meet with my sister’s doctor, and our mother will be on speaker phone.” 

Sarah glanced at the monitor beside Emma’s bed, noting the sudden spike in the girl’s vitals, but not commenting on it, instead focusing her energy on Christian, her arms folded delicately over her chest as she snorted.

“Christian, come on. I’m hungry anyway,” Ana started as she began the work of pulling her pregnant body from the chair, but it was too late, the tension in the room too high to be alleviated so easily.

“I don’t think you’re understanding me, Mr. Grey. Your sister is an adult, and now that she is awake, she can decide who she wants in this room. She’s entitled to privacy. She is entitled to decide who hears about her medical care and who doesn’t. It’s not up to you. It’s not up to me. And it’s not up to your mother. And so help me god, if you keep riling the girl up when she is supposed to be resting, she won’t be the only Grey tucked in a hospital bed.” 

The room was still, tension still humming in the air that had even Christian remaining quiet as Sarah’s words hung between the four of them. 

“Now, is that clear or—”

“It’s clear,” Ana answered before Christian could offer a retort.

Sarah nodded once to Ana before turning to Emma. “Now, Miss Emma, do you want them here or no?”

Emma didn’t like being put on the spot like that and she swallowed thickly rather than answering straight away, a long enough pause that Ana crossed the room, intending to meet Christian and guide him to the door. 

“Emmeline,” Christian prompted, pulling her gaze as they all waited for her answer. He had something more to say, but he never got to it as the phone in his hand started ringing, their mother’s face suddenly inhabiting the screen as the incoming call came in. 

“Ana,” Emma sputtered. “Just Ana can stay.” 

“Alright,” Sarah nodded before glancing to Christian. “You heard her. Ana stays. You and the phone can take a walk…unless you’d rather walk out with security?” 

Emma watched him debate his options as his mother called again, her first call gone to voicemail. He could make a fuss and get his way if he wanted. Emma knew that, but rather than answering Sarah, Christian turned to his sister. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” he offered. Christian stepped to Ana’s side and kissed her before he slipped through the door, pulling the phone to his ear as he went. 

Emma rubbed her hands over her face, heaving a huge breath as the door closed behind him. She knew it would probably be worse because she had put her mother and brother off, but Emma knew she couldn’t deal with their judgment just yet. She had a few well-deserved lectures waiting for her, but Emma felt bad enough on her own for now. And she was exhausted, eager to drift back away into sleep, even as Sarah slipped through the door to go fetch the doctor.

Emma knew she was owed lectures, and she also knew she owed a few apologies, but none more so than to Ana, who’d been the one there when it happened and the one to deal with what Emma assumed was a terrifying aftermath.

Emma knew it had scared her sister-in-law. Scared her enough that she insisted on staying over at the hospital and sleeping in that uncomfortable chair when she should have been home. Ana was 8 months pregnant. She didn’t need this stress, and yet, she had been worrying over Emma for weeks now, insisting that Emma take a break, noting that something seemed off, but holding back from involving Christian because Emma had insisted she was perfectly fine. She had promised Ana that tere was nothing to be concerned about. 

Emma had been convinced it wasn’t a lie, but seeing it from this side, that’s all she’d been doing. Lying to Ana. Lying to herself. 

Emma watched as Ana eased back into the chair, rubbing at the back of her neck before she settled and pulled out her phone.

“Ana?” Emma said, her voice barely above a whisper as she waited for Ana to finish sending a text. “I’m really sorry. I—”

Ana shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be fine. I just sent him a list of snacks to bring back for us. It’ll give him some time to cool off and anyway, I really am hungry.” 

Emma forced half a smile. “No, I mean, I’m sorry about that, but I’m really sorry…I’m an idiot and—”

“No,” Ana interrupted, reaching out for Emma’s hand. “We’re not doing that. As far as I’m concerned, the only thing to focus on is getting you better and making sure it doesn’t happen again. You need a break from school, from work, from…well, everything.” 

“But—”

“No buts,” Ana answered, her free hand drifting down to her belly. “You can come stay with me at the lake house. Nothing to worry about but relaxing and helping me get things ready for your nephew.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be real relaxing with Christian lecturing—”

“You leave your brother to me,” Ana answered with a smile. “As far as he’ll know lecturing will be strictly against the doctor's orders.” 

Emma snorted. She didn’t believe her brother—or her mother, for that matter—would let a doctor stop them from saying their piece, but she allowed her sister-in-law’s assertions to bring her a bit of peace, even though a part of her was having trouble believing that she even deserved it.

Fifty Shades Masterlist