#technically it’s not tomorrow until I sleep and wake up again so-

[androids-insides]

GORETOBER 4.

MUTATION

This one has a story on it that I just made up!! I’m tempted to use it for something… We’ll see! Anyway, I’m going to sleep mode now, byyyeeeee!

(The papers 👍)

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"Twix."

Blue says your name in a single exhale of relief. You didn't expect her to be awake. She sits with her legs outstretched by a barely-there fire as you enter the cabin, the busted door groaning shut behind you. Fatigue sinks you to the floor beside her. You're about to curl your numb hands within the long sleeves of your new jacket, but the burn on your fingers makes you wince from the friction.

“You're filthy." She reaches for your hand, gently inspecting the burn. "And someone hurt you."

"Well, technically, I hurt them."

Blue shakes her head, the tone of her voice hardening the moment she drops your hand. "You shouldn't have gone."

"It was important—"

"It was stupid. You saw how those guys tried to kill us!" She huffs out a breath before snapping her gaze back to the flames. "You... you didn't tell me you were leaving. You didn't even say goodbye. I just woke up and you were gone.”

"I didn't want to wake you this morning because you needed rest,” you reason.

"That's a shitty excuse," she grumbles back, gesturing to the pink bracelet on her wrist. "I may not have a lot of friends, but I do know they're supposed to tell each other things like this."

Your eyes trail down from the burnt skin on your fingers, red and bubbly, to the cheap, plastic beads encompassing your wrist.

"You're right," you speak softly. "I should have told you."

A few minutes lapse in thick silence. In the midst of it, you swallow a few chalky pills to help with all the pain. You've been conservative in using them so far, but with your additional score of medicine, you figure you can afford some relief. There's no way you'll be able to sleep with your bitten wrist throbbing incessantly.

You're about to lean against the wall and let your eyes flutter shut when Blue speaks again, this time her voice so quiet you wonder if you're imagining it. 

"You know, I was excited to go on this trip," she whispers, still looking at the fire. "I even secretly hoped we'd run into other people, just because—" she pauses to swallow, "—because I never get to meet any. And the ones we have met, my dad always kills. Except for you."

She drags her sleeve over her face and it’s now you notice she is crying. A knot forms in your throat and, after the day you've had, you struggle to find the right words. 

"He kills them for a reason," you settle on, voice equally hushed. "A lot of people are—"

"A threat, I know." Blue repeats the words like a bitter mantra, then looks at her bandaged leg. "What does it feel like?" she asks after a moment, sliding her glossy eyes to yours. “Killing a person. Ghost told me it feels just like killing an animal or a Grey."

You inhale, then fix your stare to the dark ceiling. "No— I don't think it feels the same. It's much worse. I still get sick from it,” you admit.

"How many have you killed?"

"I don't remember anymore, but not that many." Certainly not as many as Ghost has. "It was always in self-defense. Always because I had to."

"I wish nobody ever had to," she says.

"I know. Me, too.”

With a sigh, she carefully scoots closer to you. "I'm sorry for getting mad. I just want to go home.”

"Don't be sorry. I’m the one who is sorry." You shake your head and offer her a shoulder until both of you have your backs against the wall. Her hair tickles your cheek. A small hand slips around your waist in a tender embrace, her fingers latching onto the fabric of the jacket. The sore muscles of your core flex instinctively from the touch before you finally force yourself to relax. It’s just Blue.

"Your dad says we're going back tomorrow,” you whisper, jaw grazing the crown of her head. “Sleep. It'll be a long day again."

"A long day for you maybe," she murmurs against your shoulder. "I get to ride on his back."

"Lucky you." You drape the heavy blanket over your bodies. Together you are warmer, if only by a little. 

Deft wind whooshes through the trees, kissing your wet skin. Splotches of wriggling orange and red follow the water's current, along with a trail of brown muck as you scrub your breasts, hair, and cheeks. The sight of fish makes your stomach grumble. It's been far too long since you've had anything but squirrel and deer and berries, but this is not the time or place to ponder a way to catch one. The blue wash of early morning lightens with each second that passes. You wring out your hair, rewrap your wrist, and put your clothes back on before carefully climbing up the slope, satisfied enough with your icy bath.

"Ready," you announce, blowing a white breath into your hands and rubbing them together. Ghost crouches down so Blue can teeter onto his back. The backpack full of ammo hugs his front. He appears exceptionally bulky with all the baggage, and yet, he makes it look effortless.

Together, you head towards the infamous bridge, if one could call it that. Silvery fog makes it hard to see more than ten meters ahead of you, but Ghost seems to have the area memorized. Your hands ball up in your pockets, feeling empty and useless. With no bow, you have to rely on Ghost to get you back. It's a weird thing. Though, you suppose if there's anyone you'd want to be stuck out here with, it would be him. His presence alone offers more safety than the measly knife around your ankle.

"Ghost, we should go behind her," Blue says when you reach the beam.

He steps aside to allow you on first. "Try not to go for a swim this time."

A flush of pink bites your cheeks, though you blame it on the cold. It's hard to believe just four days ago you slipped off this thing. With his hands preoccupied, Ghost can't hold onto your shoulders like before, but he lingers close behind and repeatedly orders you to keep your eyes on the bank. 

Once you're all across, a calm quiet settles, a vast contrast to how talkative Blue was the first time around. It makes you absentmindedly pick the skin around your nails. By the time you reach the road, you've looked behind your shoulder at least ten times, half-expecting to spot a burnt face hiding among the trees. Squirrels prattle by. A starling calls above your head. But no people. You force your eyes onward and take a deep breath.

"So, uh, would you rather get mauled by a bear," you break the silence, stepping over a stray tire, "—or be struck by lightning?"

It takes a second for Blue to respond. "Oh. That's a good one. Do I have a gun while the bear attacks me?"

"No. No weapons. Just you and the bear."

"Then lightning." She pats Ghost's shoulder. "Could you take a bear?"

"On a good day, maybe," he answers.

"What about you, Twix?"

"No," you instantly scoff, kicking at a rock. "A bear would rip me apart. I would choose lightning because it'd be quick."

"Okay, I have one," Blue quips. "Would you rather be ripped in half, or fall off a tall building?"

"Ripped in half by what?" Ghost asks, tilting his head back.

"It doesn't matter." You can hear the roll of her eyes.

"It does matter. Might change my answer."

"Fall off a building," you interject. "The way down would suck, but I bet you don't feel a thing once you hit the ground."

"But you'd look like a dead bug," says Blue.

"I don't care what I look like. I'll be dead."

Ghost clears his throat. "My turn, then."

"No! You have to pick one," she exclaims. 

"Building," he drawls. A shadow of movement passes to the right of you. You naturally flinch closer to them, but it's just a doe hunkering down tall weeds that reach out of the concrete. A chuff of breath leaves your lips as you look away, only to find Ghost staring at you. For a few seconds, his eyes flicker between you and the deer before he goes back to focusing straight ahead. 

"Would you rather," he begins, "—chop off all your fingers, or take out your own eyes?"

"What do I use to take out my eyes?" Blue asks.

"Knife."

"I guess my eyes," she winces. "I mean, I'd rather get rid of two things than ten."

They both glance at you expectantly. A frigid gust of northern air takes hold of your hair, so you tuck the unruly strands behind your ears. "Uh, fingers," you decide after a moment. "I could probably live without them."

In the village, the air stinks enough for Ghost to come to a halt. Before, he was able to pass right through. This time, a group of fourteen or fifteen Greys seems to be trapped on the main street between a crumbled wall and a fallen telephone pole. He has to decide between expending ammo or time. It's not long before he nods to a small building and the three of you scale the rusted fire escape. From the safe distance of the roof, he takes out the Greys one by one with an accuracy that barely leaves a dent in the ample stockpile of cartridges. With the route cleared, he's saved at least an hour or two of precious daylight. 

The fog lifts. The ambery sun tries to peek through the clouds, but the sky is bent on staying grey. By the time you are back, your blisters have blisters. Blue has fallen asleep, cheek smushed against the back of Ghost's neck. Relief, thick and palpable, tastes sweet on your tongue. The fence, the rabbit hutch, the much-cozier cabin; none of it is home to you, but still, it calls your name in a welcoming coo. 

You have to aim Ghost's flashlight so he can unlock the gate. Blue stirs, but her eyes remain closed even when he pushes inside the cabin. It's shrouded in darkness. You prop the flashlight on the table as his boots scuffle against the floor.

He puts her to bed. As he does, you feel around for the sofa and nearly choke when your worn fingertips graze shabby fabric. Not icy water or solid wood or muddy ground, but something soft. You're about to sink into it, your bones desperate for the springy cushions, when he returns to the threshold of the hallway with an ugly, flannel sheet in his hands. 

"Here."

It's hard to be certain if you thank him or not; your brain conjures up the words, but your voice doesn't seem to function quite right. One thing is certain: you accept the sheet, tuck it on with urgency, and then lay down, burying your face in the crook of the pillow and arm. You kick off your boots and let the darkness take you, swift and heavy. It could be a coma or death disguised as sleep, and you figure you'd still slip into it without fuss. 

Those first days back are quiet. Blissfully uneventful. You sleep and sleep. In fact, you don't move from the couch except to relieve yourself and eat a little. Ghost and Blue don't seem to do much, either. Or maybe you just don't notice.

At one point, you wake up to a small stack of shirts beside the couch. All black. One long sleeve, the rest short. You change into one and continue sleeping. 

At another point, Blue hovers above you with a whisper that draws out a groan from you. "Hey. Ghost is making me skin some rabbits. Apparently, it's the only chore I can't get out of. Do you want to help me?"

"I think I'm good." You stuff the pillow over your face to make your point. 

"You've been sleeping for three days, you know."

"I could go for another three."

She takes the hint and staggers away. Walking now. You hear her right leg drag a little.

The sleep is good until it's not.

On the fifth night, you're no longer fatigued enough to keep the dreams squandered. They start as whispers. Hoarse and gritty. Then they get louder and louder, shouting your name until they are so loud it feels like someone is screaming in your ear. Different voices blend into an indecipherable cacophony. One screams in pain; another in anger. You feel someone's cold fingers take hold of your neck and are finally pried awake, flying up against the couch with fiery pants burning through your lungs. But all that's there is a dark room.

Sweat clings to every inch of you. It feels like everything is on fire, and all you want to do is cool down. You haven't bathed since the river. Catching your breath, you swing your legs down and quietly pad to the bathroom where you hope a little water is left. Luckily, in the glint of moonlight, you find a bucket used for washing hands and scoop some to your face. Then, you comb it through your sweat-laced hair. 

You unwrap your wrist and brush your fingers over the bite. You dab some water on it. You can't see well, but you feel the constellation of congealed scabs beneath your fingertips. Scars. Wounds. Your nostrils flare as a you wonder if one day you'll be so covered in them you won't even look like yourself. It's a good thing there is not enough light to spot the reflection of your face in the mirror, because you're not thrilled to greet the one now on your brow.

On your way out of the bathroom, something solid and immobile blocks your path. You startle backward, sucking in air as you peer up at a masked face. Ghost. It's Ghost. You haven't spoken to him since getting back, and in this moment, you long for the ability to push past him, but his wide shoulders consume the narrow hall. 

It's silly to think you can avoid him when you sleep in the same space now. The thing is— you have no idea what to think of him. Before, it was easy to settle on fear of how easily he could snap your neck, and annoyance for how he treated you. And then, when forced to, you could engage in a pragmatic conversation about how to keep yourselves alive.

But now, you don't know what you are supposed to feel around him, and you have spent zero time reflecting on it so far.

"Sorry. I was just, uh, washing my face."

"In the middle of the night?" he rasps, tilting his gaze down.

You teeter back a step, keeping a healthy bubble of space between your bodies. You're not sure why he hasn't just moved out of the way, or what he would be up and about for at this hour, but briefly, you wonder if he is suspicious of you. If after everything you went through, he still thinks you're trying to do something and might send you back to the shed. The three of you relieve yourself outside the cabin since the plumbing doesn't work, so it certainly does seem odd that you'd be in the bathroom during the night. 

"I was sweating a lot." Inwardly, you curse at yourself. "I mean, I haven't bathed since we got back, and I..." You trail off in a whisper.

"And you what?"

"I don't know." You fiddle with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you. "I'm not trying to kill you or your daughter in your sleep, though, if that's what you're thinking."

He simply stares at you. It feels like he can see right through you, and your eyes drop to your wool socks. Then, he murmurs, “I wasn't thinking that."

"Okay," you reply carefully. "Could you... please move, then?"

Finally, he steps out of the way, but you feel the burn of his eyes on your skin as you brush past him. 

"Twix."

You pause, looking back. "Yes?"

A shake of his head. And then: "Take a proper bath tomorrow. You could use it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Will do." 

With that, you crawl back onto the couch.

[haruka-norikoyo]

Monoma x reader who is Mirio’s younger sibling

Okay, ya’ll know how Mirio out-of-pocketly told Eri that Monoma is the bad part of UA? Like bro was being insane but damn— Eri was scared of him for a while cause of that 😭

So like, what if he kept that energy up cause reader, his younger sibling, is dating Monoma? He would be hilarious as a passive aggressively protective older brother. Poor Neito, LMFAO

Part 1/?

Other parts:

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It’s bedtime for the students of class 1-B. Most of the students in the dorm are sound asleep, or at least, in their rooms getting ready for bed. But for Monoma, this hour is his only opportunity to sneak into the common room window now that everyone lives in dorms to meet with his significant other. Why the secrecy? Well, you so happened to have been put into 1-A after you both graduated middle school.

“I might not be able to bring you back until the dorms, but I could at least walk you halfway, you know?” Monoma says was he rests his arm out the window, his fingers threading against your up-stretched hand. “I wouldn’t want you walking on your own.” “Well, you could always be the one to visit me,” you tease, knowing he would never be caught dead within the premises of your class’ dorm. He scoffs, squeezing your hand as he looks away. “I would if your stupid classmates didn’t have godforsaken sleep schedules…”

Unlike his classmates at 1-B, Ashido, Kaminari, Kirishima, Hagakure and Sero wake up in the most random hours, or stay in the common room and play uno until the devil’s hour. Tokoyami is basically nocturnal. Aoyama sometimes goes out of his room for a midnight cheese. Koda has a pet rabbit, so he sometimes wakes up to get food in the kitchen for it. Bakugo sleeps at 8:00pm on the dot, but he, Iida, Midoriya, and YaoMomo are early risers, which too, throws a wrench in your star crossed lovers charade. Technically there is a curfew, but Aizawa himself cherishes his few of hours of sleep, so he doesn’t bother badgering them to go to sleep. If they end up coming to class sleepy, well…

Your only solace is the 1-B dorm, where everyone goes to bed at a reasonable time, with the nigh nocturnal students like Kuroiro at least staying at their rooms. “I guess that’s true…” you smile wryly. “But you know, we could always make our relationship… known..?” You look up at him a little hopefully. The two of you got together near the end of middle school, so you never got the chance to announce it to anyone, especially here at UA with the class rivalry going on. Monoma rests his chin on his hand. “…you know I’d look like the biggest idiot if after all I’ve said, I turned out to be dating someone from 1-A.”

“Yeah, but you’re my idiot,” you smile sweetly, standing on your tiptoes to lean in and peck his cheek. “Mwah.”

“Gee thanks,” He rolls his eyes, pink dusting his cheeks. He pauses a second, moving your hand up to plant a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “…I’ll think about it.”

You smile. “Thank you, Neito.” As you withdrew your hand, his fingers follow yours for another second of your fleeting touch. You squeeze his hand one more time, and let go, using it to wave. “See you again tomorrow.”

Monoma sighs, and smiles. “See you again.” He waves. You retreat back to your dorm, and his hand which was holding yours remained reaching longingly. Maybe the humiliation he imagines would be worthwhile if he gets to spend another moment with you. But, he’ll think about that another time.

He yawns, heading back to his room. The lights are all off, but he manages with the flashlight on his phone. The dorm hallway is nothing eerie. At least, as long as he doesn’t notice the pair of eyes watching him. Monoma reaches his room. He’d already brushed his teeth and changed to his sleepwear previous to meeting with you, so all that’s left to do is go to bed. He reaches for the covers.

“Hello.”

“Wh— eahhh!!!” Monoma screams, tripping on his own feet as he drew back from the face within his pillows. Wait a second, where is the body?!

He calms down, taking deep breaths as he stared at the face peeking out. The face stares back. He stays staring.

“What’re your intentions with my younger sibling?”

“Huh?” Monoma blinks. Bitch who the fuck? He doesn’t know anyone in particular who’s a younger sibling that he might’ve wronged. He doesn’t think a villain would get into UA— is this just 1-A messing with him? “Who even are you?”

“My name is Togata Mirio, nice to finally meet you,” he responds, still with only his face peeking out of the pillows. “Togata..? You don’t happen to be… (y/n)’s… older brother..?”

“Ah jeez, you’re already in first name basis?”

Monoma stares at the face poking out of his pillows. (Y/n) did mention having an older brother who’s in the hero course… but they look nothing alike!

“I bet you’re thinking that we don’t look anything alike, huh?”

Can he read my mind?! Monoma shakes his head. This is his first time meeting his partner’s family, he’s gotta pull himself together. Standing up, he dusts himself off. “I assume that you’re here to see if I’m worthy of (y/n).”

Mirio stays silent, his unreadable smile remaining on his face

Monoma takes a deep breath. “I intend to cherish (y/n), and treat them with all the respect they deserve. I’ll continue striving to be a hero by their side so that I may be the one to protect them when they’re too focused of protecting others. I intend to spend the rest of my life with (y/n).” He sweats. Mirio’s expression did not change at all in the time he’d said all that. “I see. Those are very big claims,” Mirio says. “I don’t doubt (y/n)’s judgement. They’re a capable kid. However…”

Monoma gulps.

“To be frank, I do not like you, or anyone with the chance of breaking my little sibling’s heart for that matter. If you ever hurt (y/n), I’ll pummel you till your mama don’t know ya.”

Huh? “Hold on a second, that phrase…” He smiles wryly, his formalities going out the window at this revalation. It’s the phrase he’d been teaching the abroad student, Tsunotori, while Kendo wasn’t looking.

“Yep, that’s right Monoma Neito. I’m in your walls. Haha, literally.”

With one eye twitching as he smiles, he asks, “That’s a breech of privacy, is it not, Onii-san? Why would you tell me this as an aspiring hero?”

“Because no one,” he could see the evil intent in those round blue eyes. “will ever believe you.”

“You evil bastard—”

“Monoma!” yells Awase, who’s in the room beside his. “The walls are thin! Stop talking to yourself! It’s 12:00 am, go to bed!”

He turns. “I’m not talking to myself I— wait…” Monoma turns back to his pillows, and the face is gone. He snaps his head around his room. “Holy crap he’s in my walls…”

“Are you going insane?” Monoma shakes his head after looking around one more time. He shuts off the lights and tucks himself under his bedsheets. He stares at the ceiling, half expectingly to see Mirio’s face appear to stare down at him, but it seems like he’s left. Or did he?

He may never know.

[daughter-lilith]

❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 1

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+ (In future Parts)

CW (For whole story): Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Halsin is Emotional!

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: After 10...11-ish years, BG3 has finally ended my fanfic hiatus. After years of focusing on original novels, I’m honestly so excited to get back into this genre!

For anyone who prefers to read on ao3, you can click here. And for those who prefer third-person POV (what I write most), I have an alternate upload also on ao3.

Lastly, this is technically a 1–2-chapter novella that I'm breaking into about 4-5 parts so it's easier on the eyes. So, apologies in advance if there are any awkward breaks between parts.

You patted the lightweight cream over your face, gently massaging it across your cheeks and up to your forehead until it was evenly spread. Smiling at yourself, you took in your appearance one last time for the night, comfortably dressed in nothing but a fitted tank top and black underwear. You had just finished some extra late-night gaming with friends, and you sighed, remembering that you probably should’ve used that time to write instead. Maybe you should’ve used any free time to write, rather than getting lost in other simple pleasures. The third book of your romantasy series wasn’t going to finish itself, and the deadline was fast approaching. Soon, your publishers will be expecting an update.

Turning off the bathroom light and exiting, you put those thoughts aside for now. Right now, you needed sleep, not to fill your head with worry. ‘I’ll get back on track tomorrow’, you thought to yourself. Your townhome was quiet, save for the distant churning sounds of the dishwasher downstairs. Your bedroom emitted a low light from the TV, though the volume was muted. You walked barefoot across the plush carpet, toward your phone that was placed on the small table next to your bed. 3:03 a.m.: the bright numbers flashed at you. You plugged it into its charger, then laid on your queen-sized mattress.

Grabbing the remote, you shut the TV off, which left your room almost fully dark were it not for the soft, orange glow emanating from the salt lamp near the TV. Snuggling under the covers, you exhaled a breath, closed your eyes, and gradually awaited the sweet lull of sleep. A few minutes had passed maybe, you weren’t sure, your consciousness was dangling on the edge of dreams yet still linked to your waking reality. A sound filled your ears, a familiar rumble that shook you out of your near-slumber, eyes fluttering open.

Your eyes landed on the light emitting from your phone, the screen completely illuminated. You usually left your phone on vibrate just in case of anything, but it wasn’t typically a disturbance. And you didn’t normally get messages at this time, except for the occasional random notification from someone who likely lived in a later time zone. Still, as the screen darkened once again, you closed your eyes, not worrying about it. You were a decent sleeper, and once you had fully slipped under, the chance of a quick notification waking you was quite slim. But not even a minute later, another vibration of the same pattern. Your eyes flicked open again, followed by an annoyed sigh as you relented and reached for your phone.

You squinted as the brightness already felt overwhelming despite not having fallen asleep yet. 3:12 a.m. You looked over the screen, noting the blue icon of your security camera followed by the text: ‘a person detected in your front yard’. Then another notification directly beneath it: ‘a person detected at your front door’. You lifted a brow in curiosity. It wasn’t unusual for random things to trigger your camera; a neighbor walking about, even at this hour, or perhaps your neighbor’s cat who strolled the streets at the most random hours. Maybe even someone driving off. Either way, you decided you were going to snooze the alerts but not before checking first.

Unlocking your phone with the print of your thumb, you tapped the first notification. Immediately, your stomach twisted and a heaviness filled your chest. The beat of your heart rapidly accelerated, and you could hear it echoing in your head, a panicked thumping. It wasn’t your neighbor’s cat, or someone walking by, or even movement from a car… Through the camera’s night vision, a man stood directly in front of your door, his head angled down so you couldn’t see his face. He had one arm- one huge, muscular arm- leaning against the doorframe like he was dealing with an internal battle to remain standing. Or as though he had the weight of the world on his rather broad shoulders and looked to your door for comfort. His other arm rested uneasily near his side, it looked like his fingers were tapping against his leg, unable to keep still.

Those expansive shoulders flexed in his position, tensed. And he was tall, almost filling up the entire field of view were it not for the height the camera was set up at. Dark hair, maybe a dark brown, you couldn’t quite tell in this light, was half tied up in a bun, the rest of it pooling at his collarbones. But despite his massive frame, what stood out the most to you were his ears. They seemed a normal size for his head, but the top of them curved into a tall upward point. ‘Elf ears?’ you silently questioned, confusion merging with your heightening anxiety. Surely, they had to be a prosthetic or molding, they had to be, and yet they blended with the bottom part of his ears so well.

You were sitting straight up now, the uneasiness in your belly increasing. What do you do? It was rational to call the cops, you knew this, but how soon would they get there? Do you try and scare him off? Threaten him? You lived alone, but he didn’t know that.

A new wave of panic surged as you tried to remember if you had locked your door. Of course you did, you always did. But what if- what if this was the one stupid night that it slipped your mind? What if— your thoughts were halted when you noticed the stranger lifting his head.

You gasped as he stared at the door for a single moment before his eyes roved up towards the camera. He started tilting his head as he looked intently at the camera, studying it, until his head paused, almost like he knew he was being watched.

You were frozen as you took in his gaze, so intense, so focused. The front door light was on, and paired with the night vision, you could tell he had bright eyes. And those eyes seemed to steal your breath, pulling you in even through the camera. There was so much depth behind his eyes: strength, power, kindness even. But another emotion burned brighter than the rest, a sense of…desperation- if you could call it that. A hopeful desperation, maybe. But for what?

As he looked at you, or so it felt like, you found yourself completely captured by him. The mere sight of him seemed to slow the nervous hammering of your heart, and you took this strange moment to take in more of his features. Apart from his ever-enthralling stare, he also seemed tired, like it had been days since he last rested, like he was too stressed to even get the chance. Four, very precise scars swiped across the right side of his face, from his forehead, cutting across his brow. Whatever injured him, it luckily missed his eye, only continuing to the bottom part of his lip and chin. And on the left side, a curving pattern of tattoos swirled along his face, from the top of his forehead to his chin, and maybe even to his neck but it was difficult to tell from this angle. You couldn’t make out the color, but it was clearly darker than his complexion, dark enough to notice.

A new realization simmered in your mind as your eyes were fixed on him, despite the scarring on his face and the tired look in and around his eyes, he seemed…handsome. He was handsome. More than that even, and perhaps that’s what made it more difficult to look away. You shook your head rapidly. No, his looks didn’t matter. They couldn’t matter. He was a stranger outside of your house at three o’clock in the gotdamn morning. ‘Get it together,’ you thought to yourself.

But the movement of his lips pulled you out of your analysis and self-reprimanding, and your heart battered once again as a new wave of anxiety passed through you. He was saying something. You didn’t hear him, as the sound was muted on your end. Your finger hovered over the volume symbol, trembling. Pressing it wouldn’t give your voice sound, but it would allow you to hear his. Before you could talk yourself out of it, your thumb turned on the volume. Instantly, the distant sound of the soft wind passed through the phone. Your heart beating in your chest, you watched the stranger and waited. And it wasn’t long before his lips moved once again.

“Can you hear me?” the stranger inquired, his voice low and gentle through your phone. When he spoke, a cloud of air flowed from his mouth, a reminder of the brisk night. The sound made your stomach tickle, a new sense of nerves but not of fear.

A brief, grave sigh followed his inquiry, and it only confirmed the emotions behind his eyes. He was definitely desperate for something, perhaps even afraid?

You didn’t dare turn on the speaker to respond, your voice suddenly feeling dry as you tried to swallow any bits of saliva you could.

“Please. I mean you no harm,” the stranger spoke again. His brows curved inward, and his mouth slightly turned down. So much suffering in his warm, kind eyes; so much heaviness in his large arms and shoulders.

Your mouth parted slightly, and you found yourself standing now, rocking side-to-side on your heels. Somehow, deep in your core, as his plea rumbled through your phone, you felt the sincerity in his voice. Your intuition was always quite strong, and at this moment, all sense of fear and suspicion began to wane. The logical next step would be getting the police on the phone while keeping an eye on the stranger from one of the upstairs windows. Instead, your thumb found itself hovering over the speaker. Swallowing, you exhaled an unsteady breath and clicked the button, permitting sound from your end now.

“What do you want?” You tried to sound intimidating, but your voice came out softer than you intended, and you clenched your jaw at how vulnerable you sounded.

The stranger’s eyes widened, and his pointed ears seemed to perk up, a surprising hope filling his gaze. A quick mist of air escaped his lips as you heard him release a quick breath. He stepped back from the doorframe, standing taller, and when he spoke again, you could’ve sworn you died right then and there if you weren’t so very clearly still standing. He had spoken your name- well, almost. He used the shortened version, a nickname only your closest friends and family sometimes referred to you as. There was no way he’d know that name.

With a new resolve, you spoke again, this time your voice came out louder, more confident. “How do you know that name? Who the hell are you?”

He said your name game, softer, desperate, his brows once again curving inward. “You’re here, you’re truly here. Please, may I come in? I will explain all.”

Come in? There was no way that was happening… right? The rational part of your brain was like a blaring siren, shouting at you to do the smart thing. But you often moved through life with your heart first, your emotions, leaving your mind to sigh in relief when everything worked out. Or, scrambling to pick up the pieces of your mistakes. You couldn’t let him in, you shouldn’t.

“I will not harm you. Never,” the stranger affirmed, closing off his promise with your name. Another feeling simmered in your heart when he said your name once again, so naturally, like it had left his lips a thousand times before.

“And I should just trust you?” you retorted, your voice a harsh whisper. But your curiosity was developing by the second as you glanced at your robe lying haphazardly in the middle of your bed.

You heard him sigh, his shoulders lowering, a heavy sense of defeat fueling such a simple action. But he didn’t seem irritated or impatient. And the more he peered into the camera, at you, a pool of dread and grief burned into the wells of his bright eyes. An uncomfortable jolt shot across your stomach at the sight. You knew nothing of this man and had never seen him before, but you couldn’t swallow the sorrow that arose in your chest, nearly causing you to forget to breathe. You were always quite empathetic, but this was…unique. Bizarre.

“What does your heart tell you?” you heard him ask, the words so gentle and pure from such an incredible stature of a man.

You blinked rapidly at the question, your voice suddenly caught in your throat. Quickly, you tapped the speaker on your phone to silence yourself. A shaky exhale escaped your throat, and you could hear your heart thumping again.

You stared at the man, whose eyes seemed to glow due to the greyscale night vision. You quickly pondered his question…your heart often told you many things, some right some not so much… And yet, as you stared at this man, who stood outside your door in the middle of the night, quick trails of air consistently leaving his lips, your heart answered. Without another thought, you took two steps towards your bed and picked up your robe, swiftly throwing it over you, your arms sliding in with ease. You wrapped it snuggly around your frame, feeling warm except for the skin below your knees that was left exposed.

And now, your heart was guiding you towards the stairs, down the steps, until you were sneaking down the short corridor to your front door. Your phone was still gripped tightly in your hand, and the stranger once again muttered a gentle plea. The sound of his voice caused a prickle across your arms, a new bundle of nerves as you got closer to your door.

Your house was almost completely pitch-black, except for a few flickering lights from alarms, the thermostat, the Wi-Fi modem, and cable boxes. The steady swishing sounds from the dishwasher were the only audible company, but even it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the drumming of your heart.

Coldness hit the bottom of your feet as you left the softness of the carpet and stepped into the entryway. You stopped in front of the tall, burgundy door, the wooden frame the only thing keeping you separated from the stranger. Thankfully, you had indeed locked it, top and bottom, but even that didn’t seem like it would be enough if he chose to get in with force. Glancing at your phone screen, you noticed he diverted his attention from the camera, angling down to stare at your door. You were holding your breath again, unbeknownst to you, and swallowed harshly.

“You’re right there…” he murmured, reaching to place a hand on the door. “Please.”

Your stomach fluttered at his voice; the baritone was much clearer now that you were hearing him from not just your phone but directly outside the door. You closed your eyes, whispering a silent prayer to anyone who was listening. If any guardian angels are listening, now would be a great time to have my back.

You opened your eyes and glanced at your phone. “Just…take a few steps back.”

Immediately, he removed his hand from the door. “Of course.” The large man retreated some, walking backward down two steps.

Satisfied, as much as you could be anyway, you placed your phone down on a small stand near the door, then reached to unlock the door.

One click.

A quick exhale.

A thumping heart.

Another click.

You reached for the light switch next, flicking on the warm-white glow above your head. You began turning the handle, your mind a wild array of thoughts and images of what could happen. But it was your heart in the end that silenced the panicked voices, your heart that gave you the courage to proceed.

Pulling the door back a few inches, cold air instantly prickled your cheeks, causing a shudder to shoot down your back. You leaned your head in between the small opening, instantly locking eyes with the man just a few feet from you.

Your breath hitched. Even standing two steps down did little to lessen the intimidation of his height. His eyes widened as they met with yours, a flash of relief and hope reflecting in his… what looked like hazel eyes. A gleam of silver or blue seemed to glow in the specks of his irises, perhaps from the lighting, but it was otherwise mesmerizing. You could better make out the swirling tattoo on his face, a deep red that only seemed to bring more attention to his eyes. Subconsciously, you ended up pulling the door back more, your body now half exposed to the outside.

The strange man breathed a quick sigh, much more joyful than the ones from earlier. “It’s you. It’s truly you.” A smile spread on his face, deepening the laugh lines on his cheeks. His large arms extended toward you and he took a single step forward.

Instinctively, you recoiled, and he froze, a wave of regret painting his expression.

“Forgive me,” he rushed his words, his muscled arms now hovering in surrender. “I am stricken with disbelief. But I meant what I said, that I would never harm you.”

Without the echo and semi-clarity of speaking through your phone, you could feel the sincerity in his words far more than before. The way his gaze pored into you, the shame that seemed to hover at the idea that he just frightened you, your fear began to wane. Yes, he did startle you just now, but then instantly soothed your anxiety on his words alone. You eyed him up and down, slow, taking in more of his appearance than what could be seen through the camera.

He was even larger. Bulging muscles looked like they wanted to flex in his arms, held back by a strap or belt across his biceps. Green leaves padded his shoulders, decorating the intricate garb he wore. You slightly narrowed your brow in question. He definitely looked like he could’ve just left some sort of Renaissance faire or some comic convention, but at this time of night? Maybe if it was Halloween that would explain things, except it was a few weeks into winter.

Brown armbands covered what you could only assume were thick forearms beneath, and he was wearing pants that were partially concealed by a flowing white skirt- or at least what used to be white. It looked stained, like he had once fallen in mud and he was only partially able to wash away all the evidence. Still, as your eyes returned to him, you certainly couldn’t deny the sculpted ruggedness in his face, his jawline. He wasn’t just handsome, but beautiful even, strange attire and all. And his age, you couldn’t quite measure it. When he smiled, he looked like he could’ve been late thirties. But he appeared a bit older when he frowned, maybe early forties.

“Who are you?” you questioned, feeling slightly more comfortable. You opened the door further, feeling your legs tingle, reacting to the cool air.

But he didn’t answer right away, seemingly lost as his gaze similarly roved over you. But it was slower, more deliberate, and you crossed your arms around yourself, almost self-conscious under his analyzing eye. And even though your robe covered you almost completely, you still remembered you were practically naked underneath. Could he tell that you were?

Clearing your throat, he startled, the leaves shaking over his shoulders, and locked eyes with you again.

“I am Halsin,” he said, confidence oozing in his timbre. A hearty smile followed his introduction, and your caution continued to fade and drift away.

Halsin, you thought. You shifted your mouth to the side, pondering. It didn’t ring a single bell. You had a few lovers in your past, some casual to serious. But there was no way you would’ve ever forgotten such an unfamiliar name, especially if it was attached to the absolute tower of a man before you. You looked at him once more, noting a flicker of hope in his eyes. Hope that maybe you would know something.

“Where did you come from…Halsin?” He frowned at your inquiry, visibly dispirited that his name did not connect with you. “You’re not exactly dressed for this weather,” you continued. His arms were completely exposed, and his clothing certainly did not seem well-suited for the winter. While it wasn’t below freezing, there was an evident chill in the air, a reminder that spring was still well off. You suspected that he had to be at least a little uncomfortable.

Halsin smiled at your observation, a gentle chuckle leaving his throat. “You are correct. I did not think to prepare for which season would greet me. As for where I came from… it is a realm quite far from here.” He glanced away, off to the side as he paused. When he looked back at you, there was a sense of uncertainty in his eyes. “A place called Faerûn.”

“Faerûn…” you murmured, narrowing your brows as your eyes searched his face. “I’ve never-- is that a country? An island?”

His smile remained, though laced with a touch of gloom. “A continent.”

A continent? Not one you’ve ever heard of before. A name like that wouldn’t have been hard to forget, especially if it was one of the continents of Earth. You released a soft breath, trying -and failing- to mask your budding confusion.

You heard Halsin speak, his smooth baritone drawing your attention back up his tall frame. “He warned me you may not remember…but I was hoping…” His words drifted off into the cold air. When he spoke, he wasn’t looking at you, like it was meant to be a side thought.

“Who warned you?” Your breath came out harsh as an involuntary gasp escaped you.

He bowed his head slightly, bringing one arm across his chest. “Silvanus.”

Another name unfamiliar to you. You stared at Halsin, quizzically, and it was clear to him that he understood the gnawing confusion that rattled you.

“Perhaps I can come inside to talk? I am fine with this brisk air, and I do not mind explaining all out here but…” he sighed, concern etching at the corners of his eyes, “you are trembling. And I don’t think it’s from fear, not entirely.”

As he said this, a shudder dashed up your back. You weren’t aware how long you’d been shivering, too baffled by the large man before you. Too distracted by this entire interaction. But a sudden passing wind supported Halsin’s observation of you, and you curled your toes inward, trying to shield them from the cold. The air prickled your lower legs, traveling up your thighs and your back. The robe that clutched your frame was as warm as it could be, but not warm enough to soothe you against the winter’s air.

After a light sniffle, you steeled yourself and stared at him directly. “I’ll let you in, but you have to do something for me first.”

“Anything,” he quickly responded.

“Tell me something about me that only those who know me would know. Just one thing that involves me.”

Halsin rocked back on his right foot a bit, shoulders squaring a pinch as he tilted his chin slightly. He turned his head to the side, his expression deeply focused, thinking. Meanwhile, your heart was amping up again, a fleet of nerves crackling in your gut as you awaited his answer. This was it. This was the moment that would solidify if you could completely throw even more caution to the wind and allow this strange man to enter your sanctuary, in the middle of a winter’s night, alone. Finally, Halsin’s voice filled the night air once more, a soft timbre.

“Your back,” he started, still looking away. “There is a mark there- a small streak- it begins near your lower spine, tracing further down, only stopping at,” he paused, a small smile tugging at his lips. He cleared his throat before continuing. “It’s lighter than your overall complexion, the only such mark on your body.”

You froze, your voice stunned into silence. Your lips parted, but only the warmness of your breath trailed away, forming a small, fading cloud. Halsin finally looked at you again, uneasily pressing his lips together.

A beating heart thumped loudly. Yours or his? Of course it had to be yours. But the way he was staring at you, the slight tremble in his lips, a brief rock on his heels, he was nervous. Uncertain. Perhaps desperately hoping he was right. Visibly, he did not appear to be an easily nervous man, that he could ever seem to lack any confidence, and yet you felt his nerves even more than you saw it. And he was right- the birthmark that trailed down the end of your spine. Only a few would know of it: your parents from when you were a child, your closest friends who helped zip your outfits up on occasion, and some ex-lovers who were lucky enough to have you in a position of giving them such a view.

It wasn’t something you hid per se, but you didn’t really flaunt it either. In most, if not all pictures of you, you were either clothed or facing forward. Maybe some passerby caught a view of it at beaches or pools, but one had to be really paying attention.

“How…” you breathed, searching his eyes. “How did you know that?”

A brightness washed over his face, and his shoulder evened, standing taller. “Because I know you. And I could never forget you… my heart.”

His… heart? A flush of warmth filled your cheeks. Something in the way he said those words, the way his unwavering eyes focused on you, meant something to you. You meant something to him.

Sure, you could mark him off as some weirdo stalker, that had to be it. It was the only thing that made sense. But an unpleasant tickle poked your gut at the idea, like the very thought of him being such a thing was an insult. And looking at this mountain of a man; who dressed like he came from another time, with large, perfectly pointed ears and a large scar that didn’t seem to be fake… No, he wasn’t just some stalker.

“May I?” He gestured towards the space between you and the door.

You bit the side of your bottom lip, heart thumping. Another rush of wind passed over your feet sending a more vicious chill up your legs. So, you leaned fully to the side, pulling the door back as far as it could go. Halsin seemed to release a breath of relief, before stepping up and towards you. You nearly gulped as he did, almost forgetting just how much taller he was since he was initially standing a few steps down.

He kept his gaze on you as the distance closed, and his large frame nearly filled the entire entryway. You watched him intently, neck angled up the closer he came. Instantly, the scent of pine and sandalwood filled your nose, amplified by the warmth radiating from him. How was that possible? He had been standing in the cold for some time and yet it was like the setting sun in the middle of summer had just entered your home. You almost smiled, overtaken by a sudden sense of peace and tranquility. Of strength and protection. Of the wild and the power that came with it.

Halsin continued to peer down at you, a nearly-there smile on his smooth-appearing lips. You weren’t the shortest person in the world, but you’ve never felt as dwarfed as you do now. Halsin moved by you, careful not to invade too much of your personal space, which was almost impossible in the small entryway. Finally, you broke contact with him and turned to close the door, one final breeze blowing inside as you did. You closed your eyes briefly, shooting another quick prayer before turning around and hustling past the hulking man.

You moved towards the kitchen, feeling the weight of his steps calmly following. You almost turned the main light on but hesitated; the idea of the bright light illuminating the whole room suddenly made you nervous. It was much brighter than the one by your door. This would mean facing him fully, without the presence of faint shadows to help mask any emotions. That and, you were still very much in your robe with just a tank top and your underwear beneath. Your hair wasn’t a mess per se, but not exactly presentable for a guest. Or for whatever he was. So instead, you turned the rotating switch, activating the spherical ceiling lights. A warm, dim glow gradually filled the space as you turned it halfway and stopped. Just enough light.

“Most intriguing,” you heard him say. You didn’t understand what he meant but decided not to question it. There were already too many questions, and you wanted to get to the most important ones first.

Stepping toward the island at the center, you finally turned to face Halsin again as you stopped at the side of the counter. Your kitchen was decently sized and typically didn’t have an issue with a couple of people being in it at once. But Halsin absolutely dominated this space. You noticed his eyes searching behind you, at a very particular area with a quizzical expression. Looking over your shoulder, nothing but more counter space, the sink, and the dishwasher. Was that what he was looking at?

“Oh, I can turn it off if it helps,” you said casually. Maybe it was distracting him. You leaned towards it and hit the pause button instead of canceling it entirely. Instantly, a new silence filled the room, and you were already missing the steady, rhythmic whooshing sounds of the washer. At least it drowned out the sound of your heart which now all too familiarly thumped in your ears.

Turning back to Halsin, who was already looking at you, made you fiddle with your fingers, trying not to cower beneath his gaze. This was your space he was in, your home. So you steeled yourself as best as possible, steadying your breaths, and held his gaze, waiting.

But Halsin continued to watch you, once again trapping you under the powerful pressure of his stare. You licked your lips, tense, and you could’ve sworn you heard his breath hitch.

“Halsin?”

He blinked. “Forgive me, I am just…” he exhaled, smiling, “taking you in.”

Part 2 here! Hope you enjoyed! Would you have opened the door?👀👀 & Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the final part either as a comment or in tags if you reblogged, that way you can binge it or just simply be notified when it's complete!

[its-time-to-write]

Thank you so much for the response to my request <3. the fic was better then I could have hoped!!!!

I have a new request (but feel free to focus on the story themes you were wanting to do!), I have been really wanting to see a Jamie fic where he takes care of sick reader. Could be period or illness (no preference) and Jamie has no idea how to help but tries his best. I think its a cute idea

Can't wait to read more of your fics!

Thank you so much for requesting!! Literally love when people ask me to write things. Also, apparently everyone loves a sickfic because my other one has the most notes of everything I’ve written. Anyway, here’s your fic!

there’s orange juice in the kitchen

You are not sure of much, but you know one thing: you’re in pain. It’s 2am, and you’ve gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep. You’ve given up on laying in your bed and have filled up your bath with hot water, bubbles, and bath salts. Lots of bath salts. Your abdomen feels like it’s shredding itself and you suppose, technically speaking, it is. You’re just relieved that tomorrow is the weekend and you don’t have to slog through a work day, white-knuckling these absolutely ripping period cramps. 

You don’t have regular periods like, ever, and your doctor’s concerned about your fertility. You remember waving it off with the statement, “That’s a problem for another day.” Thing is, that was just a cop-out. You didn’t want to think about it for a single second because then it would become real, and you make it a personal point never to complain about a period no matter how brutal it is because at least it’s something and never mind that your last one was four months ago, you’re ok. You have a good life and good people and you’re fine. 

It’s just the principle, you know? The desire of choice. 

The hormones don’t help either. 

But anyway, you’re in your tiny bath trying to soothe the pain you’re in, trying to make yourself tired enough to fall asleep once you get out. You breathe, in, out. In, out. 

You’re up till 6am when you finally doze off. 

—

You wake up in a sweaty haze. You’re in soft pants and a large t-shirt, on top of your sheets rather than in them. You reach for your phone then pull your legs in with a sharp gasp. You’re still in pain. 

It subsides so you reach again and check the time. 9:01. You groan. Three hours of dubious sleep is not enough. You have a missed text from Sam (remind me which brand of kitchenware you use?) two missed texts from Keeley (look at this absolutely adorable puppy! Attached: 1 Image), and a missed call from Jamie. 

Ah, right. Jamie. 

Your boyfriend. 

Who you were supposed to meet for breakfast exactly sixteen minutes ago. 

Shit. 

You call him back and he answers on the first ring. 

“Hey love!” he says. “You alright? Not like you to miss breakfast.”

You grimace. “I uh, I wasn’t feeling well last night and I haven’t slept very good. I forgot to text you. Didn’t fall asleep until 6.”

“A.M.?” Jamie asks and you reply to the affirmative. He lets out a long “shiiit,” followed by a, “how contagious are you?”

“For you? Not very,” you say. “For another girl, incredibly contagious, although some say that’s an old wive’s tale.”

Jamie is silent in confusion, then- “Ohh, I get it! You’re not sick-sick, you’re on your fucking period.”

You chuckle, despite remaining curled up on your side. 

“Yes,” you reply, “My fucking period. I feel nauseous and tired and I am bleeding so. Much. It’s like my body’s making up for the last four months of nothing.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment and you internally cringe, kicking yourself for over sharing. You haven’t been together that long, about a month and a half, and he doesn’t need to know that about you. He’s a famous footballer, after all, and a guy’s guy. Probably gets grossed out about periods and stuff. 

Then he says, “Can I come over? I’ll bring food,” and your worries almost completely evaporate. 

“As long as you don’t care about how disgusting I am or the fact that I hurt a lot, sure,” you say. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

—

Jamie’s at your flat in 40 minutes, which is fast considering how much food he walks in with. He’s brought a bag of Chinese takeout, plus two overflowing grocery bags. 

“This is for now, these are for later,” he explains. He’s in a pink sweatshirt with matching shorts and socks, and maybe it’s the damned hormones again but he looks hot. His hair is pushed back with a headband and you want him to fuck you. You don’t think you can convince him, though, what with the blood. And the fact that he’s Jamie fucking Tartt. And that he probably doesn’t do shit like that because it’s gross. 

Your brain whispers, but he’s here, isn’t he? so you just push that thought down to live with other scary ones like, I will never have kids, or I’m going to live with this pain for the rest of my life.

Jamie is oblivious to this, just pulling everything out of the bags and chattering on. He’s kicked off his trainers near the door, and he hasn’t made any comments about the fact that you’ve wrapped a blanket around your shoulders like a shroud, or that your hair is in the messiest bun in the history of the world. Not the sexy, reader-insert fan fiction type of messy bun, either. Just an I-did-not-get-anywhere-NEAR-enough-sleep-last-night messy bun. 

“-and me mum always drank orange juice, swore it helped with bloating or hydration or somethin’, I don’t really know, but I got some of that too and this tea that’s supposed to help with cramps, and also a shit-ton of chocolate because I didn’t know which kind was your favorite. I was thinking we can sit on the couch and watch a movie or play Animal Crossing or some shit while eating the takeout, then I can cook you a proper fucking meal later. Coach always says it’s important to have a balanced meal when you’re under the weather, and I think it applies to this too.” He stops when he notices you just looking at him. “You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just- why did you get all this?” you blurt out. 

For the first time since you’ve known him, Jamie looks unsure of himself. “I dunno. I mean, I do know. You didn’t sound great over the phone, and Keeley’s always telling me to fucking listen to other people, and me mum was always the same on her period so I used to get her the things she wanted all the time. And-” he takes a breath, “and I picked up on what you said. The fuckin’ four-months shit. That ain’t good babe. Even I know that. And, we haven’t been together that long, but I’m pretty fucking sure you know that too, and I wanted to let you know I’m sorry.”

You’re momentarily fixed on the way he says certain words. Keeleh. Sorreh. It’s sweet, for some reason, and it causes a dull ache in your chest. You realize what he’s actually said to you and that ache deepens. You’d kiss him if you weren’t sure your breath was gross. 

So instead, you settle for nodding and staring at your kitchen wall. That’s because option one is kissing and option two is crying. You can’t do either right now.

A traitor tear slips out your eye anyway, and you hope Jamie won’t see it. He does. 

“Hey, hey.” He comes around the counter and pulls you into a hug, blanket shroud, messy bun, and all. “Love. It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re not alone, and we’re going to go sit on the couch and eat as much food as we can and then pass out, alright? We’re not going to think about anything else except what’s right in fuckin’ front of us.”

“That was,” you sniff, “weirdly philosophical. And very sweet. And I’m sorry for being disgusting.”

Jamie pulls away from you, and you think this is the first time he’s realized how gross you are. 

“Don’t say that shit, babe,” he says, and you laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. 

“I’m serious,” he continues. “You might feel disgusting, but you aren’t. You smell like fucking lavender, for Christ’s sake. Your pajamas are clean, and so’s your hair. Might be fuckin’ messy right now, but me mum also taught me to braid, so it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

You pull him back against you and let some more tears come out. 

“Why are you being so nice,” you ask, voice muffled through his sweatshirt. 

“Oh, dunno,” he replies, hint of a smile in his voice, “Think you’re fit. I like shower sex. You pick.” He pauses. “Maybe both. Heard that it can help with cramps.”

You laugh wetly into his chest. He’s warm and comforting, and so completely not what you expected him to be. You both stand in the kitchen for another minute, his cheek resting on your head before he says, “Oi, you hungry?”

“God, yes,” you say, “I could eat a fucking horse.”

“Good.” Jamie picks up the bulging bag of takeout and a roll of paper towels. “Lead the way, babe.”

—

It’s not until much later, after you’ve eaten, watched a movie, and showered (and all that implies) that you realize you’re finally tired. Finally calm. You let yourself relax on your bed in Jamie’s arms, breathing in his clean smell. In, out. In, out. By the third breath, you’re asleep. 

[thepixelelf]

the only way to get a good sleep

genres: established relationship, fluff!! pairing: reader x seokmin words: 1.3k warnings: none :] notes: this is for elv @seokmins day! ((it's technically a recast of an old fic of mine so I'm just praying you haven't read that one shhhhhh))

Seokmin misses you lots n lots.

Seokmin hasn’t slept in days.

That’s an exaggeration, of course, but any sleep he’s gotten has been fitful, restless, and generally not a good time.

He never really thought you’d be a catalyst like this. You only moved in two weeks ago -- some of your boxes are still sitting unopened in the living room, waiting for you to unpack them. The closet and dresser space Seokmin freed up for you remains half empty, since you were both too lazy to fully move in, more focused and elated on the fact that you’d finally done it. Seokmin had taken weeks, no, months to finally ask the question, and the way you’d answered so easily (with a smile, a laugh, and a hug) made it seem like all his worrying was ridiculous. The move was stressful, and cancelling your rent with your previous landlord was a nightmare, but the fact that you to would be together made Seokmin see everything through rose-tinted glasses. He didn’t care what he had to go through as long as you shared a home at the end of the day.

Of course, you two had slept in the same bed many times before you moved in, but somehow this was different. In the past two weeks, Seokmin swore he woke up already smiling, simply because you were there; beside him; living with him.

But since you left two days ago, he hasn’t slept a wink.

He knows you’re not gone forever, but still, he just can’t force his eyes to close; his breath to even out; his mind to rest. And he doesn’t know when exactly you’ll be back, either, considering your impromptu trip back to your family’s home wasn’t planned at all.

His mind wanders to the last message you sent him.

[my moonlight] miss you too, my sunshine

He lies still on top of the bedsheets, eyes trailing along the bumps and ridges of the ceiling. Sleep won’t come tonight, either -- he can tell.

Maybe he should call you. Last time he tried that (the night before), it got him about an hour of light sleep before he woke up again, but at least it was something. He needs to work tomorrow, and he isn’t sure he can keep his eyes open there after three nights of tossing and turning.

Sitting up, his hand wanders along the bed looking for his phone, which he picks up and detaches from its charger. It’s midnight already. Should he risk waking you up?

Well, he knows you have your phone on silent most of the time, so if you are asleep, he won’t be bothering you. He’s got nothing to lose.

The dial tone rings in his ear twice before he flops back down on the bed, his other hand coming to rest upon his stomach. After another two rings, he almost gives up, but then your voice makes an appearance, and he smiles.

“Trouble sleeping?” is the first thing you say. You really know him too well.

“Yeah... it’s just not the same without you.”

Along with faint footsteps, he hears your quiet laughter through the speaker. “You cheeseball.”

“I mean it,” he says, and he does. “What are you up to?”

“Are you asking me to talk until you fall asleep?”

His smile widens, and he knows he should be trying to keep still in order to fall asleep, but he can’t help it. “Only if you’re willing.”

“Well.” Something dings around you. “As much as I’d love to lull you to sleep, I need you to do something for me.”

“Hm?” Seokmin perks up, his interest piqued.

“I got you something,” you say. “It should be at your door in, hm, twenty seconds?”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, still holding his phone up to his ear. His lips purse in confusion.

“How’d you get it up here? Deliveries go to the lobby desk.”

“Oh, I have my ways.” Somehow, Seokmin can hear your smile. “Just open the door.”

Knowing you, Seokmin simply complies, leaving the bedroom to reach the door to the apartment hall. He’s a bit too tired to understand much, but he knows anything from you is worth getting out of bed for. After fumbling with the chain lock, he finally twists the doorknob.

You stand just beyond the doorway, your phone held up at your ear and a bright smile on your face.

“Hey stranger.”

Too tired to comprehend what’s right in front of him, he still speaks into his phone. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

You humour him, talking into your phone as well. “I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”

He nods. “Uh huh.”

When he sees you laugh and hang up, he glances at his phone to do the same, still awestruck to have you standing there.

“C’mere you big softie, I missed your hugs,” you say, opening up your arms.

Seokmin smiles again and swoops in to wrap his arms around you. He relishes in your warmth, a smile against the skin of your neck -- which he knows you can feel. Slowly, he closes the door behind you and waddles with you through the apartment. It’s awkward with the way he clings to you, but he doesn’t care. He takes you all the way to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed with you squished underneath, and his heart flutters at your laughter.

“What’s this?” you tease.

“You were gone too long,” he says instead of answering, and you laugh again.

Despite your playful words, you soothingly pat the back of Seokmin’s head as you speak. “Well, it’s not every day your kid sister dumps her fiance.”

“She’s not a kid anymore.”

“To you, maybe,” you counter. “To me, she’ll always be my kid sister.”

Seokmin hums into your skin, already feeling the effects of holding you in his arms. He’s insanely tired. Still, he cares enough to ask, “How is she?”

“Heartbroken.” You sigh, a frown on your lips that Seokmin can guess is there rather than see it. “But she’ll get better. She’s strong like that.”

“Mhmm...” Seokmin’s eyes are closed -- have been since falling into bed with you -- and he’s starting to drift off. Before he can fully lose himself though, he lifts up on his elbows so he hovers above you, a drowsy smile on his face. He dips low, meeting his lips with yours in a soft, lazy kiss. You reciprocate at the exact same level, simply pursing your lips and not asking for anything more. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes to kiss him again.

Seokmin can’t say which kisses of yours are his favourite; he thinks he may get a new one every time. Whenever your lips are on his will be his favourite, he thinks.

He presses his forehead to yours, mirroring your wide smile with one of his own, eyes drifting shut once again. Collapsing on top of you, he hugs you tight, ready to fall asleep right then and there atop the covers.

“Seokmin,” you whisper, kissing his temple and twisting so you’re on your side. “I need to brush my teeth.”

He groans; hugs you tighter.

You laugh. Your hands move to push him off, though you put no real effort into it. “I gotta change too, sunshine. I’ll be right back.”

Propping himself up again, Seokmin opens his eyes to meet your sparkling ones.

“Hey,” he says. He kisses you again, and your smile persists.

“Hey.”

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, grazing your thumbs over his skin as if to test that he’s real. He loves when you do that.

His lips meet yours; soft, warm.

“You wanna get married?”

“Mmm...” you hum in a sleepy daze. Your hands pull him down for yet another kiss, this one lasting longer, though still as sweet and slow as the others. When you retract, you wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “Can I brush my teeth first?”

Seokmin sleeps better tonight than he ever has before.

part two: How to Harvest Sunshine

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello, goodnight 🫂

prompt 7 with Kunikida, female reader, pretty please? 😻

7. Cuddlefuck

{part of this series: part i, part ii part iii}

The sun was starting to come in through the window. The start of a new day. A whole new chapter in his life it seemed.

Since yesterday’s events of being discovered by the President about his and [Y/N]’s relationship, Kunikida felt like a page had been turned in his life as easily as one of his notebooks. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when the President found them, but it certainly wasn’t what happened.

“So, how long has this been going on.”

“Not long…” [Y/N] muttered. Not looking at her father.

“A year.” Kunikida answered honestly. “A little more, but on and off.”

The president growled low in his throat. Causing Kunikida to flinch and [Y/N] to finally look at him. “And you kept this from me because?”

“Well at first it wasn’t anything serious.” She confessed. Which was true. “Then it just sort of happened.” Again, also true. Kunikida could not legitimately pinpoint when their relationship became serious, or even an relationship at all. It just happened one night and then there they were. On and off until they were eventually on the whole time, even when she was away. “By then it seemed silly just to tell anyone, and it was also no one’s business.”

Fukuzawa-sama leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. “Kunikida?”

“I’m sorry for lying to you, sir.” Though he technically didn’t lie, the sin omission was just as bad. “It was not my…our..intention. Though our intentions with keeping it a secret were not honorable, I would like you to know that my intentions with your daughter are very honorable. I love her. And I will do everything in my power to re-earn your trust in me as a subordinate and partner to [Y/N].”

[Y/N] looked shocked and quite moved by his words, but Fukuzawa-sama was quite stone faced. “For what it’s worth now, I would not have disapproved if you had just told me.” The couple looked surprised, but the president just leaned over his desk with his hands clasped in front of him. “You’re right, [Y/N]. It is none of my business. This does not effect the agency, your path, or Kunikida’s standing in the organization. I just wish you would have told me.”

[Y/N] hung her head. “I’m sorry daddy.”

“See to it there are no more secrets between us. Times are getting more challenging for our world. We must trust each other if we are to rely on one another, in these dark times.”

“Yes sir.” Kunikida & [Y/N] chime together.

“Good. Now please leave my office. Kunikida, take tomorrow off since your time was cut short with this off the clock meeting.”

“Yes sir.” He repeated, and escorted [Y/N] out as they headed to his apartment for the evening.

That was where he was not. Back at his apartment, like they had been so many times before, but it was all so different now.

Kunikida turned to look over at [Y/N]. Still asleep. A peaceful expression on her face, one he could make out even without his glasses. It wasn’t a secret anymore. He could tell everyone that they were together now. Tell the world. Kiss her in broad daylight like he wanted to.

Over come with the thought, Kunikida leaned over to kiss [Y/N] on her sleeping lips. Soft and pliable, they hypnotically open up for him at his prodding to kiss him back. “Kunikida….” He smiled when his name left her tired, kiss puckered lips. Wondering if she knew it was him or if she was dreaming of him. “What time is it?”

“Early.” He hadn’t looked at the clock but the light coming in was still pale. And although he had the day off, Kunikida's internal clock always woke him up at the same time, as if to get ready for the day. “Go back to sleep.”

“I was trying…” Her voice is slurred with sleep. Seeming to teeter between indeed falling back asleep and waking up. He kissed her again. Slow and lazy. Their warm limbs tangle around each other under the blankets. [Y/N]’s hips rocked up against him to feel his erection brush against her thigh. “Kunikida…”

He knew what she wanted by the way she said his name this time. He wanted it too. Kunikida tried to pretend that he was above such baser needs. Closer to his ideal refinement, but in reality he was just like any other man. Or maybe that was just [Y/N]’s effect on him.

He slid down the front of his sleep pants and brushed his bare cock over [Y/N]’s panty covered pussy. They both gasp. The seam of them was already damp as he rocked his hips between her thighs against that spot. Had she been having a naughty dream before he woke her up? Was he in it? Was that why she said his name?

His fingers hook into her panties under the covers and pull them down. Only one leg comes out of them, but that was all they needed. Kunikida hooked her leg over his hip and slowly pushed inside her. It was wet, and warm, and inviting. [Y/N] moaned before she tucked her head under his chin. The two of them just rocking and coiling together. Holding on to one another. It was bliss.

The goal was not to cum, as Kunikida’s only real goal was to be close to her, but it happens eventually. Messy and warm, they lay together still kissing before [Y/N] seemed to fall back asleep for a little while longer in his arms. He held her there a little while longer before he fell back asleep too. They could go tell the world later he guessed.

[raccoonface]

“New bodyguard… huh”

Y/n's POV

I just got accepted to be Jenna Ortega's bodyguard, and I was starting tomorrow. I had to get myself prepared to handle the paparazzi. Tomorrow was the Met Galla.

The next day

I am on my way to get Jenna, but I can't help but be nervous I don't know why but I just put that to the side.

I made it to Jenna's place and I am waiting for her to come out of her hotel. When she came out she looked beautiful.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her until her old bodyguard introduced me to her.

Jenna's POV

"Jenna."

"Yes Vince?"

"This is your new bodyguard, Y/n"

"Nice to meet you, Y/N."

"You as well Jenna"

I looked at her and she had sunglasses on with a full black outfit (whatever outfit, doesn't matter)

I thought she looked nice, and she drove me to the Met Galla

After the met galla

Y/n's POV

I have to get Jenna into the car without her getting jumped by one of her fans which should be easy since it's the after party of the met Galla

I got her and I'm bringing her inside the car with Enrique helping me

"You're Y/n right?" Enrique asked me I just nodded my head

"Wait... you're Enrique"

"Yup. I'm surprised you even know me  , I'm not usually the one being noticed"

"I know a lot of things"

"Don't know if I should be worried for Jenna or not"

"Don't worry she'll be fine on my watch"

"That's what I'm afraid of"

"Rude much"

"Alright you probably have to go Jenna doesn't like to wait"

"You're not coming with me?"

"No I got my own car to take care of"

"Alright, bye"

"Bye nice to meet you"

"Nice to meet you too"

After the convo I headed into the car to take Jenna home, when I was in the car I asked her how she was but then realized she fell asleep somehow

I was driving to her apartment building when I looked back at her and somewhat admired her without crashing the car.

I noticed how beautiful she was. How her hair complemented her face, don't get me started on her freckles

When I got to her apartment I got out and went to the back and had to wake her up

"Hey" I said while shaking her, all she did was mumble. I shook her a little harder and she woke up

"Hmm?"

"We're at your apartment"

"Okay" she said that then unbuckled. Once she did she looked at me and caught me staring at her

"Are you going to take me up to my apartment?"

"Uhm am I supposed to?"

"Yeah"

"Okay then"

Jenna's POV

I told Y/n that she was supposed to take me up to my apartment but technically you're not supposed to. But I did it anyways

We were walking into the elevator and I pressed which floor I was on. Then when we got off and to my door I unlocked it while she stood by.

"I guess I can go now that your alright"

"Wait... can you come in? Since your new I can tell you what you can and cannot do." I sort of mentally panicked after I said that because I have no idea what she could and couldn't do.

"I don't think that I should"

"It'll be quick, I promise."

"Fine"

Y/n's POV

I was so confused as to what had just happened, so much so I forgot what she was supposed to tell me.

"So what were you going to tell me again?"

"Uhm... for the first night as my bodyguard, you are supposed to sleep in my apartment to make sure I'm safe."

I looked at her skeptically but nodded my head in agreement with her.

"Alright so I'm sleeping on the couch I'm guessing"

"Uh sure if you want to... but I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie before going to sleep"

It was only midnight so I agreed.

"Yeah, sure what movie?"

"Uh I was hoping you could pick"

"Okay how about (horror movie of your choice , if you can't pick then it's the shining)"

"Fine by me"

I took my sunglasses off and sat down on the couch while Jenna was I'm guessing getting snacks

She came back with snacks and took the remote and put the movie on.

"I hope you don't mind these types of snacks"

"No not at all"

We started watching the movie and when we finished it Jenna was fully cuddled on top of me, sleeping. I had no idea how we got here.

I tried moving a little but she started to wake up. So as quickly and carefully as I could I brought her to her room accidentally opening the bathroom door instead of her bedroom door at first.

She was still cuddled into me so I had to go into the bed with her and after we were both under the covers I practically passed out.

In the morning

I woke up with Jenna still asleep on me and I remember being told that after every met Galla Jenna gets a day off. So I just let her sleep.

She had a tv in her room so I turned it on low volume then put something on.

She started to wake up about Half an hour after I turned the tv on.

"Morning, Jen" I whispered into her ear

"No, shut up I'm not awake."

I just chuckled  and wiggled myself out of her grip then went to her kitchen and rummaged around to look at what I could make her for breakfast.

I ended up just making vegan pancakes for both of us she came out as I was making them

"Morning Jenna"

"Morning, Y/n"

She went up to the plate of already made pancakes and took one off the top and shoved it into her mouth.

I finished the pancakes then actually plated them and gave a plate to myself and one to Jenna. I went to sit down next to her as I grabbed the remote but she stole it from my hands

"My remote"

I chuckled and let her have it.

.. .. .. ..

After we were done eating breakfast we just sat there and watched the tv for the most part the only words that were spoken was us talking to the tv saying that the characters should do this or that.

Jenna's POV

I really want to talk to Y/n about last night, I wanted to tell her that I have grown feelings for her and I know it's only been like two days but I still want to tell her, but I don't know how to approach her.

I was walking into the kitchen to see Y/n washing the dishes from breakfast

"Hey..."

"Hey Jen, How's it going?"

"Good."

"Something bothering you?"

"Actually yeah, there is."

"Well you gonna tell me since we're already talking."

"Yeah uh-"

I got cut off by a phone loudly buzzing, and I went up to check my phone to see who it was...

It was my agent. With a photo of me and Y/n with my head on her shoulder watching tv...

—————————————————————————

Rewrote the entire story because I thought it was terrible before and sorry I haven't been posting a lot plus it took me about two months just to re write this and it's only about 1.3k words. I need requests so while I'm writing one more imagine send requests PLEASE 🙏

Words are up there dingus ^

Might make this into a story if you guys like it..?

(I have a Wattpad ‘obsessedforyou’ if you liked this)

[dairy-farmer]

Know what would be fun? And In Line With My Interests?

If Tim had a "Me Time" chair. Basicly bat improved sex furniture. Better motors, nicer padding, the works. Tim made it! Because his brain gets LOUD. And sometimes? He just... he just needs "me time".

No thinking. Only feeling good. Safe and contained and focused.

Orgasms til he's nice and boneless. Drooling and empty headed. Just wanting to cuddle and sleep. Me time~

Problem. Hard to DO that if he has to keep track of remotes. Be in charge of stuff. Write some sort of control program. He's trying to work out the kinks in his plan when Bruce points out the obvious. Have a trusted second person control the chair.

Brilliant! Will you do it?

Bruce chokes on his own spit. But? Is TRYING to connect with his son... so... bonding?

Then Tim needs Me Time. Looks like shit. Stressed af. They head for the side room, soundproofed of course. Tim already stripping. Finding something not TOO thick, but thick and nubby. Distracting. Focusing, ya know?

Hoping up and long legs on the holster. Leaning back with a relieved sigh. Blindfold on. Bruce is trying not too look. Lies to himself, going to get some case work done. Surely.

He fails.

Deep and relentless. Hypnotic. Squishing in, squelching out. Little gasps and then bigger whimpers. A relentless, buzzing little bead against his poor clit.

This is supposed to be for Tim. JUST Tim. But he finds himself palming himself. Being a bit mean, flicking on the vibration function on that thick, plunging thing. Pressing a silencing hand to his own face as he gets off. Careful not to make even a single sound. As he watches.

Tim takes it so well. Gets off again and again.

And when he's utterly spent and boneless? Whining with each thrust? Bruce stops the chair like he's supposed too. He's TRUSTED after all. Cleans up his messy, messy boy. All sweat and drool, gushing, weakly fluttering holes. And carries his bundled up son to bed.

His son who wants to CUDDLE.

Clings to his warmth and dead to the world. Drifting, high as a kite in the afterglow. Sometimes, he whines to STAY full. Bruce is "forced" to choose some thick toy to gently work in. Something he can clench around and wake up too, tomorrow. Still cuddled in Bruce's arms. It's a sacrifice he gladly makes for his boy.

Even the nights he doesn't wish to wake up full. Bruce knows just what to give him.

Because he LOVES sleeping full. Being held, inside and out. A weighted blanket for the soul. Bruce cuddles his boy close. Listens to his gentle breathing, utterly dead to the world, and gives him something warm to clench on. Fills him up and up until he's full. Connected, just the two of them.

Always out early, so his boy can wake up empty like he wants. Calm and ready for the day. Bruce has to admit... Tim's "Me Time" really brings them closer. Leaves Tim calmer. It's good for his mental health, honestly.

He should do it more often.

-🐼

yesssssss!!!!!!!! bruce fuckign tim by proxy!!! technically he's NOT touching him so it SHOULD be alright but at the same time he's controlling speed, depth, and focusing on fucking tim and making sure he has a good time and is all boneless. then he cleans his baby tim up and holds him as he passes out from getting fucked by bruce even though bruce hasn't touched him1!!!

the "technically i didn't touch' him is soo good!!!!!

bruce helping tim with this and bringing them closer with tim getting what he needs and bruce being able to put someone at his mercy because he can mercilessly fuck tim without touching him and tim will be whining and begging. bruce could very easily be mean and force tim to lie there being fucked for hours- all that power placed in bruce's head does wonders for his control issues!!!

[omg-i-think-i-like-you]

Steve loves a clean car. His BMW is always neat, in and out. He forces the kids to take all their garbage with them as they spill out of his car and looks for leftover crumbs after they ate, absolutely not caring when he begs them not to. He washes it thoroughly every Saturday morning, never skipping it. Everyone knows it's his busy morning, and don't bother him. Usually Robin comes over and makes herself at home, but she knows he won't even look at her until he's done.

"You don't think it's a bit much?" Eddie arrived a few minutes after Steve started cleaning one morning. It was a hot day and Steve was in his old short basketball pants, and wasn't wearing a shirt. He had music blasting from the car radio, and he ignored Eddie completely.

"Stevie," he tried again, walking closer to him, "come on..." He batted his eyelashes and smiled teasingly.

"Eddie, please," Steve said impatiently while scrubbing the back windshield. "I'm cleaning."

"I can see that, and that's why I'm asking, don't you think it's a bit much? you do it every week."

"No, I don't. It's important to me." He took a deep breath, not letting Eddie ruin this for him.

"I don't get it," Eddie shrugged, "it'll get dirty again the second all your munchkins get in tomorrow, so what's the point?" He leaned against the car with his hand, imprinting his palm on the window.

Steve was getting visibly angry now, trying to talk without raising his voice, "the point, Eddie, is that it's important to me, okay?" He threw the dirty rug into the soapy water bucket, crouching down to clean and reuse it, "please, make yourself busy, find something inside to eat, get in the pool, I don't care. just- please, let me finish."

Eddie shrugged again, "as you wish, Stevie boy, enjoy your pointless task." and he disappeared into the big house.

Steve pinched his nose bridge and took a deep breath, and then got back to his routine.

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

Steve woke up spooning Eddie from the back. He took a short look at his watch to see it wasn't even 6am. It was a Tuesday, and both of them didn't have work until the afternoon, so technically he could just go back to sleep and enjoy a late morning, but a plot has started to write itself in his head.

He stayed there for a few more minutes, hearing Wayne coming in and going straight to his room after his shift, and then he slowly detached himself from Eddie, doing his very best not to wake him up. He successfully got out of bed and out of the room, and closed the door behind him.

He opened the cupboard under the kitchen sink, looking for cleaning supplies. He found a sponge, some rugs and a bucket, a window cleaning solution and dish soap. He sighed and took them all out, and then grabbed a few plastic bags and slowly got out of the trailer, trying not to drop anything.

When he placed everything on the gravel, the sun started to come out and birds were chirping. He took a deep breath in, he loved the morning air, before everyone woke up it felt cleaner, somehow.

He opened the hose and started filling up the bucket with water, and added the dish soap. He then threw in the sponges and rugs and let them soak.

He opened the front door of Eddie's van, prepared for a mess, but not that much of a mess. Actual food was all over the floor, which made Steve wonder how the pedals even work. The dashboard was sticky and empty snack packages were all over the place, but mostly stuck between the chairs. Steve couldn't blame it all on Eddie, because he knew the Corroded Coffin guys took the van sometimes too. He also couldn't remember when was the last time he actually was in the van. When they went out together they almost always took Steve's car, mostly because Eddie's driving made Steve fear for his life, but maybe also because he just didn't feel comfortable in Eddie's car? He couldn't tell.

He started picking up trash into a plastic bag. In the beginning he went slowly, trying to touch as little as he can, but when his hand dipped in a brown thing he hoped was melted chocolate, he gave into it and grabbed piles of dirt, filling bag after bag.

When he was done with that, he started hitting the seats, making crumbs and sand and probably living things jump into the air. He then took out the car's carpets and shook them from all the crumbs he just dropped on them, banging them on the ground and giving them a wipe with a soaped up rug. He cleaned the air-conditioning vents, the windows from the inside and made sure the stirring wheel didn't glue to his hands.

He finished the interior of the car after 6:30am. He shut the doors and opened the hose again. He sprayed water all over the big van, getting it all wet. Then he took the soap, and squeezed the bottle, covering the car with green stripes.

He took one of the sponges out of the bucket and started scrubbing. He scrubbed every single inch on the van, the windows, the door handles, the bumper, the licensing plates, the wheel rims and even the exhaust. He knew it didn't make sense, but he did it anyway.

He opened the water again, washing the car from all the foam, and watched the dirt dripping down, exposing a shiny van, that smelled like clean dishes. He took a dry rug and went over the entire van, wiping away the excess water and leaving it nice and ready to go.

He got rid of the now dirty water bucket, washed all the rugs and sponges and threw away the ones that weren't usable anymore. He took everything back inside, put it in its place and hopped in the shower.

When he joined Eddie in bed, the latter mumbled in his sleep, "where did you go..?"

Steve kissed him on the cheek, "just the bathroom," and he fell asleep again with Eddie in his arms.

The two boys woke up around 10am, stumbled out of bed and walked into the kitchen to make breakfast. Steve was cooking eggs while Eddie made them both coffee when he gasped and ran out of the trailer. Steve looked through the window to see Eddie running and then standing in front of the van in shock, turned off the stove and ran out too.

He placed himself next to Eddie who slowly turned his head towards him, "what the fuck..." He whispered.

"What?" Steve asked, innocently.

"Did you do that..?" Eddie was still half whispering, and opened the driver's door, "Steve!" He sat in front of the wheel, "this entire car smells like you! you did this!"

Steve completely forgot he sprayed his aftershave in the car when he finished cleaning. He also couldn't tell from Eddie's tone whether or not he was happy about this whole thing, so he just said, "yeah..?"

Eddie jumped back out and hugged Steve tightly, and then gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, "thank you."

Steve, who was utterly confused, pushed Eddie away a bit, examining his face, "are you okay?"

Eddie beamed, "of course I'm okay! my van is clean and smells like you, and you did this all for me. I honestly don't deserve you, Stevie."

"What??" Steve threw his hands, "I thought it'd piss you off! I did that to piss you off! why aren't you pissed off??!"

Eddie was the one confused now, "why would I be pissed off? also, why would you even want to piss me off in the first place?" he crossed his arms and tapped his bare foot on the gravel, trying to erase the amused expression off his face.

"Because," Steve opened, "You always annoy me and tease me about how me cleaning my car every week is pointless, so I thought you just hate clean cars altogether, so I decided to clean yours. You're supposed to be pissed because you think clean cars are pointless." He finished and crossed his arms too, mirroring Eddie.

Eddie started laughing, loud and hard, and came to hug Steve again, "Gosh, Stevie, my sweetheart, I love your clean car. I love how you're so tidy, I love to see how the kids subconsciously copy you and clean after themselves, I love how you always put everything back in place, I love how there are never dirty dishes in your sink, and never piles of dirty clothes waiting to be washed. I love how you mindlessly pick up my stuff around my room and dust the record player, I love how you change my bedsheets. If anything, me picking on you for cleaning your car was out of pure jealousy. I wish I was a bit more like you. I know we never take my car because it's so messy, but I wish I could drive you some places without feeling bad about the way it smells," Steve made a face and Eddie giggled, "Okay, I don't have to drive, but thanks to you, we actually can take the van now. It's a lot more compatible for road trips and camping. We can do those things now." He smiled and Steve smiled too.

"I'm sorry I did it behind your back..." Steve said looking down and Eddie held his chin back up.

"No, it's for the best. I don't think I'd be able to handle the embarrassment, seeing the condition of this car," he made a disgusted face, "thank you for bringing it back to a normal state. I promise I'll try to keep it as clean as I can." He put a hand on his heart and Steve released a chuckle.

"Yeah, okay," He raised an eyebrow, "or you can just ask me to do that, I actually do enjoy it."

Eddie rolled his eyes and pushed Steve into the van, "I still don't believe that, Stevie boy."

He started the car and they drove off, with Steve holding onto his seat and begging Eddie to slow down.

[fortheunsungheros]

𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝑭𝒊𝒄 (𝑨𝑼)

*For clarification, Y/N was in the car at the time of the Curtis parents death. She survived though, with only a few injuries*

TW: Mentions of blood, car accident, death, small panic attack

1st Person Y/N POV:

Everything is coming back. The car is on the train tracks. I see my mother. I see her platinum blonde hair infested with a crimson liquid.

Blood.

The same hair my mother had just brushed out of her face was now different. Five minutes changed everything. My father is slumped over the steering wheel. The same steering wheel where he taught Darry how to drive is where my dad's lifeless body lay.

I feel my head pound so hard as if someone was knocking on a steel door. My left side aches in an unexplainable yet excruciating way. I taste a metallic sensation in my mouth. It reminds me of when I was little and lost my first tooth after Soda bonked my head into a wall. I hear the sound of a police siren wailing. Wait, it's getting closer.

I desperately try to sit up to help my parents but my body overpowers itself. I realize my right thigh has a huge gash letting out an immense amount of blood. My mouth cannot help but wince in pain. A single tear comes sliding down my cheek followed by many more. My own tear lands on my thigh and I yell out in agony. My body begins to shake in fear.

The sirens, they're coming closer. The repetitive wailing plays in my head like the nursery rhyme my mother used to sing to me. I suddenly see red and blue flashing lights. "Help" is all I can mutter. The emergency service lights begin to fade away. What are they doing?

"Y/N....Y/N....wake up you're having a nightmare." A voice says to me as they gently shake my shoulders.

I sit up in a panic, a cold sweat overfills my body to an uncomfortable degree. I glance my surroundings. It's my bedroom. Another tear falls from my cheek as I raise my hand to wipe it away. I look at over at my bedside. There kneels Darry with a remarkably soft demeanor.

"Hey, you were calling for help in your sleep again kid. You haven't done that in a while. Did something happen?" My brother asks protectively as he cracks his neck.

"No...it's just been bad recently... I can't stop getting back in that car, I'm sorry that you had to get out of bed Dar." I say softly as Darry wipes another tear that slips off of my cheek.

"Hey, none of that sorry shit Y/N. I'm your older brother, it's mine and Soda's job to protect you. Well, technically Pony too but I know you don't like to bring up that fact." Darry says with a small chuckle.

I follow his laugh with my own, as I glance at my nightstand and notice my clock reads 4:27 am.

"Dar, don't you have work tomorrow?" I ask inquiringly.

"Yeah kiddo, I do. But I was thinking about calling off. I haven't called off in God knows when and I need a break." He says letting out a sigh. He runs a hand through his short chestnut hair and sighs once more.

We sit in a comfortable silence for a while until he finally speaks up, "What about you sleep in my bed tonight, just like we did when we were kids? It might make you feel better." He says to me in a comforting tone.

"Yeah, that would be nice." I say in reply as a happy grin paints my face.

We both get up and walk to his bedroom that lays just down the hallway. In a matter of seconds, we

have arrived in his room. He allows me to settle into the bed first. The familiar aroma of cheap cologne and a sweaty teenage boy encapsulates my senses immediately as I hit the pillow.

Seconds after I lay down, the opposing side of the bed sinks down. Darry lazily throws a protective arm over my stomach. With his other hand, he gives me a gentle noogie on the head.

"Hey. I love you kid. You're my favorite sibling I've got. You're never annoying, well most of the time you're not." Darry says with a laugh.

I mirror his actions and begin to close my eyes. We lay like this for what seems like hours until the silence is broken like an egg in the morning hours.

"Y/N, you awake?" I respond by shaking my head lethargically. "What do you say we go to that new bowling alley that opened up with the gang tomorrow? I heard that the place is great." Darry asks me.

"Of course that sounds fun!" I say with as much energy as possible for 5 o'clock in the morning.

After just a few minutes, both of us are sound asleep - without nightmares in sight.

[imaginespazzi]

stated it will never not tickle me that you give a preamble about how much you don't like the chapter before dropping the most earth shattering amazing chapter ever.

I mean, don't get too cocky I have multiple bones to pick with you, but it was really good ok?!

Before I dive in here, I wanna wish you an extremely amazing vacation! As an Italian American I want to warn you that Italian girls are incredible sexy and if that other person you were fucking with is still being fickle, you should def bang some Italian chick, and get some inspiration for writing smut because you are currently EDGING US TO DEATH.

August 2025

Wow it just occurred to me that in this universe Azzi went back for her 5th year, so at the time of the proposal Azzi is 22 and still planning on spending another year at UConn? Paige what are you doing.

"She’s cut off by the sound of excited chatter filling up the air and Azzi doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s just entered the premises."

By excited chatter do you mean women yelling PAIGE I LOVE YOU and screaming and throwing their panties at her?

No rings. It feels wrong. But then again, nothing has felt right for three months.

gut punch for us PaigeWithLotsOfLesbianRings-sexuals

“I see Jewell and Téa,” Paige cuts her off immediately, her legs already moving in a rush, “I’ll see y’all later.”

ok this may be out of pocket but I think Paige and Tea would make a really hot couple. I mean if Azzi left her for you Nivi, and that is the only reason P would be single ok?

Paige shrugs, tugging on Azzi’s hand to pull her closer, “you said you don’t wanna fight and I- I don’t want you to go,” the confession hangs between them as Paige’s hands fall to Azzi’s waist, “so- let’s just- let’s pretend.”

you loooove writing heartbreaking scenes that take place in the back parking lot of a bar where they talk about pretending huh? “Sshhhh just- let me have this okay,” Paige’s voice trembles as she leans her forehead against Azzi’s, “if I can’t have it for real, please just let me pretend.”

well now I have to go commit myself to a psychiatric hospital because I am crying while reading a fanfic about a real life couple who are on the university of Connecticut women's basketball team. Great!

if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world

Annnnd Paige's impending panic attack in the present day story is going to be about…

April 2033

“you look phenomenal.”

ok after I read this line my inner monologue was literally "wow big word Paige", so the next line you wrote is technically plagiarism

“Foreplaying,”

ok I loved this cause it was finally a reference to something sexual between them. Up until now its technically been a chapter of the book of Mormon.

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Stephie,” Paige says, “but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow I swear.”

so at this point Paige just wakes up, gets ready for the day, goes to Azzi's for the entire day, then gets home and immediately goes to sleep?

“Well it could be if you’d just let me fuck you after,” Paige grumbles and Azzi’s mouth falls open at the bluntness of it.

def not in the Book of Mormon anymore Fine. Okay. Whatever. I won’t go. You have the time of your life with fucking Clementine or whatever-”

this line is line is extremely Paige accurate

April 2029

“she needs to hear how much I fucking hate her. Azzi do you hear me? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. Did you hear what I said?”

wow stab and twist

Ok honestly justice for Olivia, girl deserves to be fucking furious.

"How do I make it go away? Please tell me how I make it go away? How did you make it go away?”

oh ok, im crying again

April 2033

Paige’s hand resting on her lower back as the blonde guides the two of them through the crowd in search of their teammates.

ok mystics game reference

“and I supposed there’s no point in introducing Azzi to you since y’all came together,”

ok in this Universe is it not canon that most womens basketball fans know these two are a couple? Like is it common knowledge to these other players that they are non-platonic or is it a pre-leak reality? “and it is really good to see you Azzi. I have missed you.”

ok I can just hear this in a French accent and Paige just making the most disgusted American face possible “you sit Clémence. You already have a drink. I was gonna go get one for myself and I’ll get Azzi’s too. Besides, Azzi's more of a fruity drink girl. Az I’ll get you a piña colada-”

This proves Paige is no rizzler at all, because a rizzler would know that a woman does not want a sugary frozen blended drink at a club “I would have liked to stay but they needed the cap space so they could sign her. She- she’s quite expensive

oh, ok, so now you have me feeling sympathy for this French fry? You are the QUEEN of writing 'the other woman'

It makes Azzi clench her thighs together as she tries to focus on Clémence.

NEVER BEEN FURTHER FROM THE BOOK OF MORMON

“It’s funny you’re acting like such a fucking prude when you have a bastard chi-”

I AM SO SCARED RIGHT NOW

“Let’s go,” the blonde’s voice is eerily low, “we’re going home.”

wow Paige, weird time to be all domestic n shit

“Baby-” the word slips out from Azzi’s lips before she can catch it. She hasn’t used it for someone other than Stephie in so long that it feels foreign on her lips and yet, it fits exactly right.

OMG Azzi showing uninhibited emotion this is crazy

“we hooked up a couple of times,”

thats it?! wow Clem has no game, I am proud to be an American - where at least i know im freeeeee

“You don’t get it yet do you,” Azzi whispers, reaching up to cup Paige’s face, “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”

oh now im crying from my eyes AND my vagina. But most of all I'm MAD- MAD at you for ending the chapter there, and not showing us the SEX, then going at least two weeks without a chapter - EDGING US TO DEATH. 🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻🤱🏻

Ahahaha tbf I'm a bad judge of my own writing because reading it lowkey makes me die the first time 😭

Well as much as I can confirm that Italian women are in fact stunning, I am a) on vacation with my family which includes my strict-ish parents and b) my situationship is in a pretty good place right now

That is in fact exactly what I mean by excited chapter

Listen if Azzi every leaves her for me, idc who that blonde decides to do at that point. Téa is drop dead gorgeous tho.

There are apparently some common tropes that I must write about these two i.e back of the bar heartbreak, phone calls...I have a formula

If it helps, in real life those two are being disgustingly domestic visiting each other's families and acting like an old married couple where one of them builds while the other appreciates the scene so...

LMAO same braincells fr so it's not actually plagiarism

BOOK OF MORMOM 😭😭😭

Yep that's a very apt description of Paige's day really.

Fun little tidbit that I named the character Clémence solely so I could make a clementine joke.

In GH Pazzi were firmly a secret the whole time

I enjoy writing the "other woman" as a woman who was wrongly "other-ed" if that makes sense?

Listen I think we should all clap for Azzi because girlie's taking some steps, baby ones fs, but STEPS!

I think you'll like next chapters babes ;)

[discodeviant]

Lil thing for @akioukun 😚😚😚

Steve thought he knew Indiana.

Steve thought he knew the woods and what was in them since he’d grown up right on the edge of Hawkins’ treeline, but this wasn’t Hawkins.

This was a reserve so far up north that it was technically Michigan across the lake, and he was starting to wonder if he should regret saying yes. It already felt too much like The Evil Dead, being holed up in a cabin surrounded by forest and nothingness, waiting for the roots to jump out from the ground and swallow him whole. It already felt like he was falling through the floor when he stepped onto dirt from the porch.

Flashlight, check. Lanyard with keys, check. Affirming shoulder squeeze from Billy, check.

He tried not to think about it too hard. Distant noises were deer, not wolves; creatures that his footsteps warded off like gunshots. Anxiety thrummed in his blood just to make sure none of the kids had pot or tried sneaking out, and he wondered why he couldn’t be so naive anymore to think none of them ever would.

Night number eight, though, and still nothing worth talking about. A couple of beds were hiding lights under the covers to read. One girl was eating an apple outside and let Steve talk her into going back to bed by confessing that he was afraid of the dark too.

He went back into the counselor’s cabin between rounds, relaxing for a few minutes at a time. Billy was busy with preparations for the morning, but a few of the others were around until Steve could call it quits at two-thirty. Most of them had gone to bed by then. Dave, the camp operator and self-titled pack leader, stayed up to make sure Steve got back safe and sound. He was a hard-headed guy with a military background who denied Steve’s last several attempts to swap out midnight guard duty with someone else, but it could have been worse.

He could have been stuck without Billy at all—at home alone with no sense of purpose or belonging anywhere. Could have been stuck at the mall again with kids and parents twice as insufferable as the campers. They weren’t so bad even if he had to be up early to do it all over again. Having five more weeks with Billy outside of Hawkins wasn’t something he’d complain about.

“Oh, you’re home,” Billy said from the bottom bunk when Steve finally crept inside. Steve laughed and said yeah, he was, then leaned down for a kiss before heading off to shower. No ticks tonight either—lucky him.

In bed, finallyfinallyfinally, he leaned back and let Billy hold him tight. “I hate it.”

“I know you do, baby, it’s okay.” Billy’s fingers combed through his damp hair with the care and attention only a lover knew how to give. He whispered to avoid waking their two roommates. “But you’re back with me now. Nothing’s gonna get you. I’m right here, Stevie…”

That soft and croaky voice put him to sleep in no time at all, and the quiet really felt like peace.

“Hey,” Billy said.

“Hm?”

“I’ll meet you in the canoe shed tomorrow if you want.”

“What?” Steve wavered in the limbo between states of consciousness. “Why would—but… no, you—what?” Billy chuckled.

“Shh, shh… I just miss touchin’ you, that’s all. Now go to sleep.”

“Mmmokay. Love you.”

” Love you too, hot stuff.”

Steve smiled and went right back to sleep.

[underburningstars]

drift 11

for @jegulus-microfic prompt abroad, wc 428

Becoming a full-fledged pilot is no easy feat. James had a hard enough time getting a partner and getting into the pilot training program, and cadet training was anything but comfortable, but the training he has to go through now makes all his previous efforts look like a child’s play. 

They have to wake up at 5 a.m. and go for morning practice. Then they have breakfast and attend their theoretical classes, and then they have training again. It’s training, training, and training all the time. James has always been physically active and has good stamina, too, but it’s too much even for him. 

They have to go through three months of this, and it has only been two weeks. 

His asshole friends somehow forgot to mention all this in their oh-so-wonderful stories of training camp. 

And, today is the worst of it all. Unlike him, Regulus has an actual job in the Corps. He is a scientist first and a trainee pilot later. And some engineer from abroad has come to discuss something with him. So Regulus was gone the whole day, and James had to go through the horrors of the day all on his own. 

Regulus comes back to their room very, very late, and James waits until then because there is no way he’s going to sleep without seeing Regulus’ face at least once. 

(Is he being weird? Nah.)

Regulus tiptoes into the room – probably thinking James is asleep – and he immediately sits up in his bed and greets him, “Hey, Reggie.” If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging right now. 

Regulus shrieks and stumbles back, “Why the hell are you awake?!”

“I was waiting for you to come back.”

Regulus gains back some of his composure, “What? Why? It’s three in the morning. You have training in two hours, you idiot.”

“Yeah, but so do you,” James shrugs. “I wanted to see you.”

Regulus looks away, but James still catches the blush that colours his face. “Shut up. And I don’t have training, actually. I took two days off because I knew work would take long.”

“Oh. Two days off. Wait, two days off!!! So I won’t see you tomorrow either?”

“Technically, it’s today, and you’ve already seen me.”

James pouts and stares at his lap in dejection. One day without Regulus was bad enough, but two days. There is no way he’ll survive. 

Regulus clears his throat, “Maybe we can–have breakfast together,” He mumbles.

James’ head snaps up, “We can?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s a date!”

“It’s not a date!”

previous | next

[wecandoit]

hey guys. currently in a bit of a crisis (but its chill, it's fine, we're chillin) so a rant under the cut

it's the first time i've ever left an assignment to be done so last minute. technically this submission is only due 3pm tomorrow (it's currently 10:28pm) but i have to wake up at 5am to go to work and don't get home til around 4.30pm, so really, i have until 5am to finish this assignment. and it's for a unit that i really want to improve my grades on (i've got a structure down, and my sources ready, just gotta write up the five pages, do the referencing and proofing)

but really i'm just a bit terrified because i had weeks, literally weeks, to get this done but i just... didn't? and i did similar things for my last two assignments too and i just--i can't afford to do this, you know? this is my dream, and i can't believe i'm sabotaging myself like this.

i was looking into scholarships for next year bc i could really use it, and i'm just 3% away from being eligible for our uni's merit-based one. and the worst part is, i feel like i could have really easily gotten it if i had put in a tiny bit more effort last year. and yet even knowing this, i can't bring myself to get on top of my game for this semester.

i've just been wanting to sleep all the time, even though i'm constantly napping. i don't even think it's a depressive episode though, because emotionally i'm not really struggling. maybe i'm mentally exhausted? but again, i feel like i've been doing nothing all semester so idk what i'm even exhausted from.

this is my final assignment submission for the year so i'm really hoping that once the stress of deadlines is over, i can actually be productive and study for exams properly (and catch up on like half a semester of missed lectures and exams for half my units)

i'm going to take a 20 minute nap, and hopefully i'll be able to get my head in the game and finish writing this up and do the referencing. i'll try do the proofing and submission at work tomorrow.

thanks to whoever read this and i'm sorry if i got you down. sending you all my best wishes with your work/study/other endeavours<333

xx dilli

[slafkovskys]

after an away game jay definitely calls you to see where you are and just cuddles you and y’all basically sleep all day

when your phone starts to vibrate beside your head the first time, you ignore it. instead choosing to roll over with a groan and burrow further underneath your warm, comfortable blankets. it goes quiet after a minute and you relax, ready to drift back into unconsciousness just before it starts to ring again.

you huff and roll back over to look at who was calling at such a late hour. with a sigh, you press the green button before putting the phone on speaker and letting it fall onto your stomach, “jay?”

“where are you?” is the first thing that he says, “i’m at your house and your car isn’t here.”

“because i’m not there,” you say, suddenly wide awake at his words. “i thought you all weren’t going to fly back until tomorrow morning, so i came home for the weekend.”

“home as in your parent’s house?” he questions and you hum, “okay. i’ll be there in a little bit.”

“jay, it’s almost an hour-long drive and you just got off of a flight. why can’t you just wait until the morning?”

“technically it is morning,” you can hear the sly grin in his tone as he speaks, along with the sound of him pulling away from the curb. “besides it was barely a two-hour flight and all i want to do is see you. it’s worth the hour, baby.”

“there’s nothing that i can do to change your mind, is there?”

“not a thing. see you soon.”

“please be careful,” you say with an exasperated breath. with a chuckle and a promise to do so, he disconnects the call. you lie in bed for a while before deciding to get up and wait for him in the living room when you catch yourself dozing off again. you knew that your parents wouldn’t care when they found him here in the morning, but they would mind if he woke them up at almost three o’clock in the morning by ringing their doorbell. you cozy up on the couch and only have to wait twenty minutes until headlights shine in the window. you cross the floor and open the front door, sending the boy a glare, “you promised you would be careful.”

“i only did like five over,” he mumbles, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, “was too excited to see you.”

“you’re in trouble. go to bed,” you retort, closing the door quietly behind him and twisting the lock. you follow him to your bedroom, collapsing onto your bed, while he starts to dig through his backpack, “you really couldn’t wait, like six hours?”

he sends you a grin as he pulls off his warmup jacket, “no, love you too much.”

“why did you fly back early?”

“why are you asking me so many questions?” he raises an eyebrow as he slides into bed beside you. you scoot closer and he throws an arm over your waist, “there’s supposed to be a storm or something when we were supposed to leave so they just made the call to send us home tonight. don’t mind. get to be with you more.”

“you’re so obsessed with me,” you poke at his chest and he doesn’t make any move to argue, “my dad’s supposed to be making a big breakfast in the morning because i’m home, so you’re lucky.”

“would they be mad if we slept through it?” he traces a shape on your hip while you do the same on his bicep as you snuggle into his chest, “i’m very tired and now that i have you within touching distance, i have no real reason to be up for breakfast.”

“you made me wake up at three am to cuddle. you’re waking up for breakfast with my parents.”

he sighs, closing his eyes, “aye, aye captain.”