#man has never been in a fight himself and he isnt starting today

[sanguine-arena]

scrap; misc drabbles #2

desc: during a game against the Alekov Valiant, young hotheaded Neon Knights defenseman Antonio Agnello decides he has to stand up for his goalie. despite swearing that he saw the Valiant’s player run their goalie over, Antonio’s defense partner, Bjarki, separates him from the opposing player in an attempt to calm him down from what seems to be one of his common overreactions.

cw: very mild violence mention, lots of swearing

wc: 1,266

tags: @thetruearchmagos , @hottubraccoon , @elijahrichardwrites , @jezifster , @isherwoodj (dm me if you want to be added/removed)

---

“Hey, hey, hey, hey-!” 

Antonio ignored the sound of Bjarki’s calls for him or didn’t hear them at all as he took off full speed towards one of the opposing Valiant skaters. He was honed in on the much larger forward, dead set on persecuting him for the crime of taking a run at their goalie after the whistle. His strides were short but powerful nonetheless, ice easily spraying up behind him with every crank he made into it. 

He didn’t take much longer to finally catch up with him, and wasted no time throwing a crosscheck into the number eight plastered on the back of his jersey. The much taller blond stumbled from the shock, not expecting the attack even a little bit- he regained his footing and turned around, his green eyes expressing confusion more than anger.

“Hey man, what the fuck? What’s your fuckin’ problem-?” “You know what you did!” Antonio snapped at him, his voice cracking towards the end. He looked up at the other, who was easily a foot taller than him, though that wasn’t a situation Antonio could say he’d never been in before. “You don’t run our fucking goalie like that! Got it?”

Antonio’s blood boiled when he laughed in his face instead of being angry back at him. 

“Yeah, okay,” the other said, dismissing him altogether. “Whatever you say, kid.” “Hey! Ant, get over here-” Antonio ignored Bjarki’s calls for him once more, two handing his opponent once more before throwing his stick aside entirely. He threw it and his gloves off in one fluid motion that could only signify this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. He snagged the blond’s jersey in one fist as the taller of the two faltered again, and he pulled down on it with a certain ferocity the other couldn’t say he’d ever seen before. He stumbled over himself once more, and Antonio finally took the opportunity to pounce on him like a cat to a mouse.

The two slammed down to the ice moments later, and Antonio started slamming a flurry of punches into the other’s face. He kept going, even as the other squirmed and tried to fight back without much luck. He managed to crack Antonio in the jaw once in what seemed like pure luck, though it didn’t seem to phase the smaller of the two for too long as he continued wailing on him immediately after he’d popped it back into place enough to relieve the pain for now. He kept going even as bruises began to set in on the other’s face, and the bones in his nose started to crack and shift by themselves. 

Whistles from the referees were starting to blare throughout the rink, the sound of them skating over becoming more obvious. Bjarki soon caught up to the fight, as well, and Antonio felt him tugging on the back of his jersey. The first and more gentle of the attempts didn’t get the message to stop through to him, and as such Bjarki was forced to use all of the strength that came with standing at a massive six foot eight to forcefully pull him off of the Valiant skater by his jersey’s collar. He effectively scruffed Antonio off of the other, skating away from the scene with him while the much smaller of the pair furiously squirmed and tried to kick himself away from him.

“What the fuck? I was teaching that guy a fucking lesson-” Antonio said, his tone almost an exasperated shriek as he did. “I was kicking his ass-” The officials helped the Valiant skater up and away from where he’d been attacked, escorting him to his team’s bench while Bjarki tried to reign his defense partner in a bit more. Antonio soon kicked himself free, though Bjarki would never tell him that he’d partly let him go anyway. He put himself between Antonio and any open ice that could’ve led to the Valiant bench, who were all certainly looking on to the scene that Antonio was making right about now. 

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Antonio shouted up at him, even giving Bjarki as hard of a shove as he could manage in hopes of riling him up, as well.

Bjarki, eternally unfazeable, sighed softly and looked down at him with what could only be explained as half disappointment and half pity.

“He didn’t even do that on purpose.” “You don’t fucking know that-” Antonio continued his tirade, shoving him again and even teetering on the edge of angry tears. “Didn’t you see what he did? Do you even fucking pay attention?”

“Ant.” Bjarki’s tone was stern, but quiet, and he let himself skate back a couple more inches to give himself more of a buffer. “Calm down. Now. He didn’t run him on purpose.” “I- You’re so fucking stupid! You don’t ever pay attention-” Antonio stumbled over his words, shaking his head frantically to get the tears to stay in his eyes. His thoughts ran at a thousand miles an hour now, and getting anything out coherently seemed impossible. “You don’t ever want to fucking stand up for anyone! You never want to be there for us!” Bjarki couldn’t help but flinch at the accusation, but tightened his jaw and took a deep breath before he responded.

“Ant. Listen to me.” he kept the stern tone, and Antonio could feel how hard he was being stared down right now. “You need to learn to control yourself. You’re a solid defenseman, but you get so riled up and so in your head, and-” “Don’t talk down to me like that!” Antonio’s anger started to falter a bit now, and his hands shook under his gloves. His breaths grew uneven, and he could only hope that Bjarki couldn’t tell. “At least I give a shit about this team! At least one of us is going to stand up for our guys! What are you going to do?”

Antonio’s rage had completely fallen off by his last question, and soon the tears started to pour out of him. He instantly turned his gaze down to his skates, and his shaky breathing was more obvious than he’d ever wanted it to be. Bjarki soon skated closer to him, hesitating before going to wrap an arm around him in an attempt to comfort him now.

“Hey, Ant- let’s go sit, okay? It’s alright, you’re al-” 

“Don’t- don’t fucking touch me.” Antonio pushed him away, and soon skated away from him entirely, only to skate towards the Neon Knights’ bench instead of towards the other bench to restart the fight. He didn’t go to restart the fight, like Bjarki had seen him do easily a thousand times before tonight and had expected him to do once more. Antonio hated how quiet he’d sounded, though the lump in his throat from how hard he was trying to hold back crying wouldn’t let him be any louder. 

He reached over the bench’s door, fidgeting with the handle for a moment before it finally popped open to let him in. Antonio slammed it behind him and made his way down the tunnel and towards their locker room. Though, if Bjarki were honest, the lack of his usual effort in slamming the door concerned him and made his chest tighten up with worry more than the act of slamming the door itself. 

He looked up, and saw the thousands of eyes staring directly at him, and he could’ve sworn he’d be able to hear a pin drop in the arena in that moment.

[nothomegal]

Mmm, this isnt a fic request (or maybe yes) but i NEED for reader to break and finally give in for their cuddle session with Danny, oh! And finally start to fall in love with him

Aww you're right anon! I guess it's only the matter of time for the reader to eventually give in and accept the weird ghost guy that keeps sneaking into their life (and house).

And I know it took me way too long to do your request, I apologize for the wait, had some trouble writing this since I never liked how it turned out -.-' Luckily though, I think I finally got something decent!

"Favorite person"

(Ghostface x GN Reader)

Summary: everyone has a limit, and unfortunately today is the day you reached yours as life wasn't all too kind to you for the last 24 hours... But hey, at least your dear intruder has your back, so not everything is that bad! Right, doll?

Warnings: mild example of unhealthy and obsessive behavior, the rest it's all fluff.

Word count: 2.2k

The grip around (Y/N) remained tight. The intruder kept holding their tied form closely in complete silence, something very out of his character.

But such oddness didn’t come from nowhere, and (Y/N) was the one who indirectly caused it. Today was probably the worst day of their life, everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong. It's honestly incredible they still had the emotional strength to return home without bursting into tears on their way.

They’re not quite sure how or when they fell asleep, their mind been a mush of blur since they entered their home. All they can remember is waking up already laying in bed with their arms tied behind their back and their body pressed against the chest of the masked man, the same one that would often come to mess with them.

Sometimes he would reveal himself willingly and others just stay in the shadows and observe them from afar or straight from the corner while they’re in a deep sleep.

This night however, apart from tying their hands, he haven't done anything from his previous visits. No cheeky remarks about anything specific they did that day, no rants about some random topic and no attempts to scare or tease them... Heck, he didn't even run his hand through their hair or body. Absolutely no additional touches beside holding them close.

This really threw (Y/N) off. Ghostface, who's been a huge pain for them, the authorities and basically everyone in the town, was... Acting so thoughtful, nothing like the selfish villain he's been portraying himself as for the past numerous nights.

It's not the first time he hugs and holds them in his arms, he's actually super touchy with them and never fails to express his amusement of how helpless they always look. But now?... Now it doesn't feel like any of his shenanigans, but a genuine attempt to comfort them while not pushing too much, though the effectiveness of said attempt remains questionable.

Their thoughts and wonders were interrupted when they feel movement and then something grab their chin to then gently move their head up until they're face to face with that unsettling mask that resembled a ghost.

—“Feeling better?"—

They don't make a sound, quite the opposite, they press their lips in a thin line as they stare into the dark eyes of his mask.

—"If I take off the tape, will you talk to me?"—

Their body tensed at such question. Is he... Is he actually going to?...

—"Of course as long as you don't try anything funny... But you know better."— he leans closer to your face. —"Right, (Y/N)?"—

They gulp nervously, but Ghostface is right, they do know better than to gamble with their luck. Besides, they have no energy to fight or struggle anyways, so of course they'll play along... For now, at least.

With a more defeated look, they slowly nod.

The man releases a pleased hum and without a warning yanks the tape off of their moth, making them yelp from the pain and surprise.

—“There you go, hope it didn’t hurt too much.”— he snorts at your cringed expression.

—“It… It did… A bit.”— you mutter quietly. —“But not as much as a stab would…”—

The killer paused at the sound of their voice, but the calm was short as out the sudden he grabbed them by the chin again and squeezed their face a bit.

—"Aww, look, your first words.”— he remarks playfully before tilting his head. —“Well? Isn’t it just sweet to finally be able to talk, hmm?”—

(Y/N) remains quiet for a couple of seconds, unsure if they should speak again or not. But when It became clear that the interaction wouldn't progress without their contribution, they force themselves to talk.

—"I… Y-Yeah… It is nice."— you answer while studying his masked face. —"But… Please, don’t get too mad at me for replying slow... I'm not used to talk to... Killers, after all. {Or people in general...}”—

—"...Mad? At you? Oh silly..."—

His head then straightened and he squeezed their face a bit tighter.

—"You're so comically shy that I wish I could just cut you up and pull out some confidence out of your body."— he says in a playful tone, though it sounded way more sinister than intended. —"But it's not that you aren't good at speaking, it's the people you call 'friends' that made you believe that..."—

His tone then became significantly colder at the last part, which made (Y/N) tense and go quiet. But despite the dread, they couldn't help but agree with the killer, their friends indeed aren't as good as they thought.

It's another of the many bad things that happened to them today. They weren't supposed to discover it, they just got in the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up overhearing the few people they thought they were close with talk about them. Nasty comment after comment, disgust and disrespect lingering in their tones as they said their name between insults and cruel jokes…

They didn't even bother to listen to the end of the conversation, they just fled the scene and did their best to not cry until they arrived home. And in the entire day, in this whole period of time they looked so pathetic and miserable, none of their other ‘friends’ bothered to see if they're alright or help with any other issue. Absolutely no one took a moment to even say 'hello', and that made (Y/N) feel the loneliest, like they're just a ghost in other people's life, being acknowledged only when they announce their presence.

They get pulled back to reality when the hand lets go of their face and their body is pressed closer to the masked man, making the embrace feel more intimate.

—"...Sorry I can't take the angst as easily as I take people out."— he mutters, his hand slowly traveling up and down your head. —"But I can prevent said angst in the future. These assholes will not disturb you again, I made sure they won't..."— his grip tightens, turning almost possessive.

A shiver traveled down their spine at his words.

They should be afraid, panic that this stranger so deliberately admitted of harming, and most likely murdering, their friends like it’s the most mundane thing to do. They definitely should at least freak out or give any other kind of distressed reaction, they should… But they don’t.

To be completely honest, they weren't even upset at what Ghostface did. After today's interaction their view on his character changed quite drastically. Though he still had that playful and cocky behavior, they now know that whenever he says or shows them care... It's genuine, or so they think. Could this be a trick to make them let their guard down? Definitely. Does it make sense? Uh... Not really, but this man likes to do odd things to throw off any bystander with his shenanigans.

But even if their strange relationship is just a game to him, then damn he's good at it. They almost feel like them matter, like they can be loved and it's just bad luck people around them can't see or appreciate them... Unfortunately though... They know it's not true, it can't be true, they're too pathetic for that, so much that even a psycho killer had pity over them to pretend-

A surprised gasp escaped (Y/N) when their body was suddenly flipped and tackled against the mattress, with Ghostface now looming over them.

They didn't even need to see his face to know what type of expression he had, the atmosphere was all it took to know he was upset.

—"I am not pleased with how you keep viewing yourself, (Y/N)."— he finally says after a pause. —"And I am certainly pissed that you're doing it around me."—

All (Y/N) could do is stare at the ghastly mask in dead silence. Despite having their mouth untapped, they couldn't bring themselves to make a sound, as if paralyzed from fear and anticipation of what he would do if they happen to upset him more.

When the killer began to lean down lowly, they held their breath by instinct.

—"I'll say this one time, and you better not force me to repeat it."— he said in a low and slow tone. —"You are my favorite person in this whole cursed world. And I swear if you dare to think badly about yourself again, I'll fucking stab you."—

He pauses, either letting his words sink in or re-evaluating what he just said or is about to say.

After not coming to a clear conclusion, he sighs with mild frustration.

—"I... Look. I'm aware of my reputation and the image you have of me. And though I do like to amuse myself with these visits of mine, not ones I did it to mess with you, not in the way you think..."—

He pauses again, the eyes of his mask staring directly into theirs, either studying their expression or thinking.

—"I wanted to end you ones..."—

As he speaks again in a lower voice as he extends his hand, aiming for their neck.

—"...But I don’t want it anymore."—

The hand was drastically redirected towards their face, covering their eyes in a quick movement. Whatever sound of surprise or confusion (Y/N) was about to make is shushed when something soft and warm was pressed against their lips, the sensation sending shivers through their body.

—"{Or ever again.}"—

That's all they heard before their eyes were uncovered and Ghostface plopped on the mattress right next to them, his head placed on his hand as he waits for their reaction.

(Y/N) can only cluelessly blink while staring at the ceiling, wondering if the warm sensation they just felt on their lips was actually Ghostface-...

Their face starts to get progressively redder as the realization kicks in. My god. Ghostface, from all people, actually!-

Their head snaps at his direction when that famous deep raspy chuckle left him, clearly entertained by the fifty shades of red their face is going through.

—"What? Never had a kiss stolen before?"— he teases.

—"I- Uh... No. Not really..."— you answer as you look away, face even redder.

—"Good, all for me then."—

Now it's (Y/N) who lets out a snort, finding his behavior silly yet quite charming. Huh, strange how quickly they moved on, the previous dread and fear they felt when he pinned them was now like a long forgotten dream...

Is the famous Stockholm syndrome affecting them already? Why are they suddenly so okay with his presence? Even when knowing about his mood swings they can't shake off this strange sensation of comfort...

Is it because his actions and intentions are now confirmed to be genuine? Because he really seems to like and cherish their company? Cherish them?...

...

...You know?

Fuck everything.

They're too tired for this 'BS' about morality and shit. It will be a tomorrow problem to overthink, now they should just give in and take this night to relax and... Well, maybe even put into use this little freedom of speech they got and actually chat to the man, maybe even get to know more about him.

They look at killer again, the dark eyes of his mask still fixated on their form as he observes them in silence, almost like he's looking at a piece of art rather than another person.

—"So... Are you going to stay here all night?"— you finally ask.

He's silent for a little while.

—"You want me to?"—

—"Kinda. You... You're not too bad of a company, I guess."— you shoot him a timid smile. —"And even if I didn't I doubt you would've leave."—

He lets out a snort at their last comment and then lies down, a bit closer to them.

—"You're right, you're now haunted by me either you want it or not."—

There is a small pause between them, both just laying and looking at each other, a strange atmosphere of calm now lingered in the room, making this moment feel oddly right.

Out of the sudden, they feel a pair of arms snake around their form and bring them ones again into that warm and intimate hug. And this time, they welcome the gesture by snuggling closer to the man and letting out a content sigh.

—"So."— he then says as he tilts his head to look at you, now in his arms. —"What's your favorite scary movie? I never got an answer to this question."—

—"Huh? Aren't you supposed to know that?"— you arch your brow. —"Y'know cuz of the whole stalker thing and all..."—

—"Yes, but want to hear you tell me that. I just really like the sound of your voice."—

They can feel their cheeks warm up, and they can't avoid to get even shyer when the man chuckles at their expression.

—"W-Well... I have a couple."—

At first they sounded awkward while speaking, as if expecting him to interrupt them or laugh at their preferences. Nevertheless, he never made a sound and seemed to pay close attention to what they're saying, sometimes even asking more things about the movies when given the opportunity. Overall, Ghostface is a very nice guy to talk about any kind of nerdy horror stuff!

At some point, they even forgot that the man holding them was a serial murder. It actually felt like talking to an old dear friend rather than a criminal.

And as they talk through the night, (Y/N) finally understands why Ghostface always became so touchy and clingy whenever he had a bad day.

Cuddles and rants indeed help, especially if done with your favorite person.

And though they're certain he's not one yet... Just by seeing how the night progresses.

They wouldn't be too surprised if he somehow sneaks his way into such spot.

[lennadanvers]

Hi! I love everything youve written with my entire fucking heart like you dont understand there hasnt been a single thing of yours that I havent liked! Anyways, I was wondering if you could write some more Simon Riley? You write him so well it isnt even funny. If you cant, no worries! I think youre amazing!!!!

Hi! Thanks a lot for the praise, it means a lot (you don't even know how much, I'm pretty new to fanfic writing and posting stuff is still kinda terrifying, but when people say things like this it warms my heart). Anyway, I had this sitting in my drafts for way too long, and found the energy to finish it today. Sorry for the delay, I hope you still enjoy it.

Thanks for your patience <3

Every coin has two faces

Ghost doesn’t like to think about himself.

Maybe the mask is an effort to conceal his own face when he walks past a mirror, rather than to guard his identity. Maybe it has a double purpose. Maybe it’s just one: to hide. Whatever the case, Simon Riley avoided thinking about himself. Of how he looked. How he sounded. Or moved-

Until he had met you.

Fresh blood. As in a new recruit and as in that you were bleeding the first time he saw you. Despite the bloody nose, there was something there. A burn in your eyes. The sharp smile you threw to the recruit laying at your feet. To the one responsible for your pain. Sparring wasn’t supposed to be this dirty, but they had crossed the line. And you had slaughtered it in response. A fucking demon; you had become violence on the flesh and unleashed something nasty upon them.

Once you had won the fight -not fair and square, but they had asked for it-, you stopped. Put the leash on whatever it was that took over you, and stepped back, hand to your bloody face.

Simon smelled something rotten.

For the untrained nose, it wasn’t noticeable. Most people would have looked at you and seen a surprisingly skilled recruit, that’s it. But he saw himself. Broken recognizes broken, he supposes. The anger ready to jump out. The control; years of training that someone as young as you would only have if they started before even learning to talk.

That’s what it was, wasn’t it? You were another survivor. Another messed up past. Another broken child who grew into a desperate, cold monster.

Ghost saw himself in you.

It went downhill from there. Simon Riley knew it was a bad idea, he was a bad idea. But you were so good. Scary good. Too damn close to perfect for him to be at ease. He kept an eye on you. From afar. Very, very far. From a second-floor window. From his elevated position as a sniper in the field. From a couple dozens of yards in the training area. Through Soap’s gossip.

Simon Riley had never been so close to liking himself. You were fast, methodic, smart and precise. You were strong, witty, sarcastic and poisonous. He was interested, involved, captivated and weirdly vulnerable.

It haunted Ghost how much of himself he saw in you. It just made the few contrasts (sparkly smile, short body, soft curves) feel sweeter. Just made him want to be closer. If you were so… So beautiful, so elegant, deadly, appealing, valuable… Maybe he was, too. Maybe it happened to you too. Maybe, when you looked at him, you saw yourself. Maybe you understood.

That’s why the way you looked at him it chipped his heart a little.

He had never considered himself particularly handsome. Just a man. But this man had a good body -strong, healthy, taller than most. He was good at his job- effective, respected, he had earned his position. He knew not to get into other people’s business, and he had a decent sense of humor. Some women had even complimented his accent- apparently his voice was quite attractive. The few that had seen his face hadn’t complained, either.

Obviously, he didn’t expect everyone to be interested in him. Simon knew the mask weirded some people out. But it wasn’t the mask, was it?

It was him.

You looked at him like he was the president of the welcoming committee of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Like you’d shoot him if he took a step too close (he never stood within less than six meters from your personal space, mind you). Whenever he entered the room, you stabbed him with your side eye. If Ghost had to walk past you in the hallway, you’d stick to the wall like a fucking tree frog, for God’s sake. And he hadn’t even talked to you directly.

Simon hadn’t been able to wrap his head around it.

Until now, that is. After you had been chosen to go with the team to a mission. One that was supposed to be easy. In and out. No more than a couple hours. No finding a place to stay the night. No ending up divided in a couple different locations. And definitely no spending the night hiding with you.

Alone.

There had been bullets flying everywhere. He was calm, fast. You knew better than to give him dirty looks when he dragged you to safety. But you were looking at him now. And he was terrified.

All this time, the scarred, broken kid inside him had recognized the scared, lost kid inside you. Ghost had seen himself in you.

But you had seen someone else in him.

His broad figure and trained muscles weren’t attractive, were they? They were menacing. His stealth, aim and training weren’t worthy of admiration, but fear. The hard-earned respect, the power, was nothing but a weapon, a strategic position from which to attack. Your dirty looks were the hate you had spent years nursing. God, the way you pressed against the wall in the hallways- your most basic instincts keeping you away from the predator.

Simon is a threat to you.

And you’re looking at him as if he was his father.

Ghost stares back at you from across the abandoned building you’re going to have to spend the whole night in. He’s going to be sick- you look sick. Simon knows how you feel. Being trapped in a house with a man who can beat you into a bloody pulp. Someone bigger, stronger and more powerful. Big body, hard knuckles and labored breath. Next to him, you’re so small. You’re weaker, have less experience and power over him. And you can’t leave: it would be worse. You’re trapped with him.

Alone.

It kills him, the way you step away from his body as soon as you can. How you don’t look him in the eyes, following his hands instead. He feels disgusting.

Simon takes a deep breath and forces his voice to sound calm- he’s not- and quiet.

“You alright? No wounds?”

He knows both answers: no and no. But he has to ask. Has to let you know he cares. He’s on your side. Here to take care of you. Not to hurt.

You shake your head.

“Good. Gonna stay ‘ere tonight. The others can’t be far. Contact Price to let ‘im know our position.”

A nod. He’s used to giving orders, but right now his voice sounded harsher than he would have liked to hear. Ghost winces.

“Thank you.”

It’s the surprise in your eyes that ignites his hope. He’s not an asshole. Maybe.

You don’t trust him, either way. After you eat- pressed against the wall, knees between you and him-, it’s time to prepare for the night. Simon knows how he’d feel if he was in your place. He’s more than sure you’re not happy sleeping in the same room as the big, creepy guy with military equipment who reminds you of a nightmare.

He takes off the gloves first. Someone told him he has nice hands, once. They’re brutal. But human. The mask is next. Usually- always- it stays on during missions, even if they last days. He can make an exception. His naked hand undresses the chin, the mouth, the nose- the scars. Simon bats his short eyelashes, as if the dim light of the sun setting was bothering him- he wants to show you he’s weak. He can be.

You stare at him from the other side of the room, still, a deer in headlights. Simon tucks the mask and his gloves into one of his pockets. Decides he’s keeping the bulletproof vest. But he can spare his gun. And the sniper rifle. And his knives- except for the one hidden inside his pants: he’s not undressing in front of your terrified eyes, and at least he has something to defend himself with, in case the enemy finds you. Everything else goes into a pile on the floor. He then steals a glance at you.

You’re looking at him unsure. He’s not only your superior, but a ruthless soldier. This is not the protocol. In fact, he’s being quite stupid by choosing to spend the night disarmed.

Simon shrugs. He’s not going to explain himself to you.

“’s uncomfortable to sleep with all that metal. ‘m a fucking bell.”

You give him another nod. It’s weird, how much you talk around other people. You’re usually loud, even your laugh. You laugh with other people. He’s seen you laugh at Soap’s jokes. He’s heard you teasing him about his accent.

Or, rather than that, the weird thing is how quiet you are next to him.

Ghost likes his recruits obedient and focused. Makes it easier to give orders if people have a cool head and are ready to follow. But you’re not. You’re ready to fight, flight or freeze, and you don’t trust him. You don’t trust he’ll keep you alive and well. Because you’re too busy making sure he can’t hurt you.

Except he can. He could. If he wanted. He doesn’t. For the life of him, he does not want to hurt you. Simon himself is terrified of the possibility.

Ghost knows it’s an absurd idea. He has no reason to. He is your superior, and you’re together in this. You’re supposed to watch each other’s backs. To be a team.

But right now, all you are is terrified.

And he doesn’t know how to make it stop. So he resorts to giving you choices.

“Wan’ the first watch?”

Say no, and he’ll make sure not even a cockroach crosses that door. You’ll be safer than in base.

You nod.

He bares his neck. Ghost has seen your teeth, and they’re more than enough to cause serious damage. Go on, he’s telling you, make sure I can’t fight back. Simon doesn’t say it, of course. Instead, he lays on the cold floor, away from the door and from you. Look, he’s out of the way. You can run, if you want to. You can wait until he’s asleep, grab his weapons and disappear. You can hide somewhere else until the sun rises. He just knows you’re good at hiding. He turns his back to you. There, it is yours to stab. If he ever gave you any reason to feel like this about him, by all means, go on. End his misery. But, most importantly, end yours. Take your pick, he left you an arsenal. He’s dying a death by his own weapons either way.

The shadow your body casts on the wall stays still a long time. It’s been well after an hour since he slowed his breathing down when you finally move into a comfortable position. The ruffling of your clothes and the little sigh you let out make him feel a little less cold. A little less like a monster.

When the sun wakes him up the next morning, you’re still sleeping. Ghost should reprimand you severely; should have woken him up, should have made sure someone was watching the door. But he can’t find it in him to do it, to betray this shadow of trust.

So Simon takes a mental picture of your relaxed face- he’s never seen it so close, it’s a sight worth risking his life for- and turns around. He pretends to sleep until you wake up and start making noise.

I hope you liked it, thanks again for the ask <3

If you (or anyone) have an idea/request/suggestion, I'll be happy to read them. It may take some time, but I promise I'll do my best. Also, I'm sorry if I made any mistakes, English is not my first language and today my brain was particularly confused. Just let me know and I'll fix it.

Masterlist here

[denako]

🧚‍♂️If you decide to read this i do not guaranteed that youll get out of it brain damage free🧚‍♂️

Aka the worst thing I've ever wrote

:)

This is jotawes for those 5 people that ship it, also theres a "smutty" scene but written in the most nonsexy way possible

Also i wrote this 3 years ago so... Yeah

A love story i guess

"Hey dade!!!" Yelled jelen, the music was way too loud, she couldnt even hear her own thoughts.

"Oh! Hey Joleane, whats updog??"

"Not much, whachu doin here?" She asked. Not even knowing why she was speaking with her father in the first place.

"Chillin', but i was thinking bout goin home, an old fart like me has no rights to be at a party full of young horny people! Thats against the rules." He said sounding older than ever.

"Gonna take weather with me doe, hes old too. im afraid his old crusty bones will fall apart if he isnt careful enough" Joutaro added.

"Oh" exclaimed Jelean, a sour face painted on her face 👀🦷🦷😈.

"Ok den!!"

"You sound like you want me gone daughter!!" Jorato said with a bitter tone😠😠.

"NO FATHER i would never do such a thing, i am also afraid that your old bones will fall apart."

"Ok then, enjoy the rest of the party"

"Ok"

JOTERO left with weather report to do old man stuff at his home. JOLENA was glad that her old man was taking care of himself, she really wouldnt want to clean up his crusty dusty musty bones if he died.

Jolenaen continued being gay and dancing to the trash music playing on the speakers..

But then out of nowhere a group of girlies swarmed her. They were everywhere clawing at her like cats claw de... The thing... What do u call it?... The thing on the window.

IT DOESN'T MATTER OK.

She did not understand what was going on. When a group of girlies swarm her like this, they usually want to get closer to her. But not now. They were asking questions about her father.

What

They were asking for his number and stuff. She didnt know why as she didnt have the dilf eye. .

(The dilf e)

She shooed them away, there was no way she was going to give them the number of her gayass father. (She did not know he was a gayass)

She was going furious as some of the girliepops returned trying their luck again. But to no avail. Jolena was very stubborn and was not planning on leaking the personal details of her fathers credit card number to some random lady.

She then went and commited a few war crimes, just to spice up the night. She was now wanted in 13 European countries.

But then the girliers returned, she had no way to fight them and she succumbed to their voices squeaking like the goddamn rubber chickens.

Back at jootas house he was hitting that evil vvizard vveed with wes "weather report" bluemarine.

(Pictr of evil vvizard vveed)

They were both fucked up on the vveed. If jolana figured out he was doing this behind her back she would probably take and crumple him like a piece of paper. Then smoke him like he was doing with the vveed right now.

Out of nowhere Wes said " hey džotaro my dude, what about the funny... will we commit the funny today??"

"Oh, of course we will my evil vveather vvizard!"

There was silence for a moment, then joteroad continued "Thats why i took you here in the first place!"

"Ok then... So uh.. when will we start😳😳"

"How the fuck did you say that with your mouth?????"

Instead of an answer there was silence.

"Whatever... We will start once im done with this vveed"

"Ok then"

But unfortunately Jotroad was an extremely slow smoker, so finishing a single vveed took him about an hour.

In this time Wes smoked 7 vveeds.

He was so fucked up he could smell the colors.

"Ok im done😀"

Wes looked at him with his third eye 👁️.

Suddenly completely sober.

"Ok"

They started commiting the funny intercourse. It was very good and funny

.

They were... NAKED EWWWWW, but thats the harsh truth of commiting the funny crime.

"Oh yes my beloved, i am arriving" wes switched into being bri'ish for some reason.

Then he arrived.

The funny crime has been committed, they were now on an fbi watchlist.

Wes collapsed on the very moist joterod. He had no more energy. Very tired boy he was now.

They were laying on the couch in the living room, but jerotad didnt see any problem with this. He forgor 💀 that Jolenan actually lives with him, after being kicked out out of her previous home, because they found that saint jesus vveed in her apartment.

But still, she was probably gonna end up sleeping over at one of her gay ass friends house.

But THEN... OUT OF NOWHERE SHE BURSTS THROUGH THE DOOR

OH FUCK

ALL OF THEM PANIC, joleaned starts scratching her eyes out and screeching at the top of her lungs as he accidentally saw weathers naked dusty ass.

"WHAT THE FUXK DAD{€¶€÷{`{€" SHE YELLS.

"Fucking dont look then bitch" Joteroded calmed down really fast because he was still high from that vvizard vveed.

" I fucking cant see now, i have no eyes" jolanda yells as she holds her eyes in her palms like that dude from pans labyrinth.

"Sucks to suck" says wes, his ass still completely naked and crusty

"Yeah and go sleep večerníček is already over"

"Of course papà" jolened leaves like the very obedient child she is.

"Very well then" retorts wes

"娘指ェ州の時期日起再去拿" says joterodesad and then they both fall asleep.

Jolene ends up screaming the entire night 😊😊.

The end🌈

Hope you didn't enjoy👴

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

I love Wind having master sword burns so so much, please give deets :D

*taps mic* I wrote that fic like, nearly a year ago, so I don't remember much, but I can provide a few details (most about the fic itself, as the whole "MS burns" thing is pretty simple

You can't wield the Master Sword if you do not have the hero's spirit. Zelda, however, as the descendant of Hylia, can wield it (which doesn't make sense to me but whatever)

This was actually before I hopped on the train of Four being Zelda’s cousin, I think, so really I was going for the descendant of someone with the hero's spirit also being able to hold it (to a lesser degree)

I've always visualized Wind's scars to cover his entire hand (hands?), like he laid it evenly on a sheet of hot metal, as opposed to like, just where the hilt touched him. No unblemished skin.

I started another fic about Wind without the hero's spirit (entitled as "ANGST HAMMER" in my docs, whereupon he used the Master Sword to kill Dark Link, and thus died himself) but never got more than a few lines (enclosed below, because I will probably never finish it unless a sudden bout of inspiration strikes. Be warned, it's quite old)

A detail only in that fic- Wind also has scars on his shoulder from where the hilt of the Master Sword rested

(Fun side note- those two are the only fics where my hc of "Blue becomes Edward Elric when his height is mentioned" is present)

This fic was intended to be a looooot angstier but somehow it ended up as a comedy. Writing Wind is just very fun and it's somewhat hard to take everything seriously from his pov

I looked up whether or not WW Link wore gloves to base the placement and extent of his scars on

The burns never got past, like, second degree. Most of the pain was like, a magical thing (the divine curse mentioned by Sun)

There's a running gag in my fics of a Link meeting another Link and calling them "Other Link", and here Sun does it as well (she and Sky are dumbass4dumbass)

This isnt relevant at all but someone made art of the scene where Groose picks up Wind and looking at it now, I just realized Sky is standing in the "you know I had to do it to em" (I think anyway) pose and I'd be upset but that's just so funny

Wind has always known he doesn't have long.

Ever since he pulled the Master Sword, he's held his lifespan in his hands, grains of sand spilling between burned fingers.

Was it not enough? To fight Ganondorf, blood from broken blisters slickening the Master Sword? To live every day in pain, sometimes not even able to do the most basic of tasks?

(He already knows the answer, has known it since the first day he drew the Goddess's blade.

It never will be.)

-

"Good thing the old man is here, right?" Wild says, nudging Wind's side and sending a jolt of pain through him.

Today has been a bad day; he'd woken up unable to curl his fingers in all the way, and his shoulder has been burning, only worsened by the hilt of his sword rubbing against the scars there.

"Yeah." He agrees, tuning back into the conversation. Sky had been demonstrating how his beetle worked, only to wedge it in between two branches out of arm's reach.

"Is it just a hero's spirit thing to be short?" Legend asks. "Time is the only tall one here."

"I don't know." Time says, ruffling Wind's hair. He tries not to wince at the jolt it sends through his already frayed nerves. "The sailor might still get taller than me."

Wind tries not to laugh at that; if Legend is right, then he really might be able to get taller than all of them, if the curse doesn't kill him first.

"I could still get taller." Four rolls their eyes.

"Yeah, right." Warriors scoffs. "You're even more of a shrimp than Wind."

"I'm not a shrimp! This is a perfectly normal height!"

"For a ten year old, maybe."

"I don't know." Legend says. "I think it's more like an eight year old."

-

-

-

He twists the blade into the Dark Link's chest, fire burning through him. It howls, clawing at him.

"Wind, no!" He hears Time yell.

He looks back, smiling. "It's what heroes do, right?"

[astranne]

Hhh just got around to remembering anxious!xiao brainrots so here u go!

For starters, im calling him a nerd. I love ners tropes so much they itch my brain so perfectly. He can probably read off his favorite science/math/history book in the exact words. If your lucky he can even cite the direct sources.

Anxious!Xiao not knowing when he should speak during conversations and just floating in the background or ignoring large groups entirely, if they arent his friends he arent going near them. Double fuck no if theyre anyone that bullies him.

Anxious!Xiao knowing how to kick ass. As in, if someone fucks with him he will lay their ass on the ground immediately. Im a firm believer in Xiao being able to takw someone out easily despite their size. He wont say anything of course after he wins a fight, he doesnt want that type of attention.

Anxious!Xiao only being himself to close friends and people he truly trust because everyone uses him and he believes he isnt worth their time or friendship after they all leave him after they get what they want from him. Xiao getting rlly bad anxiety when they add him to group chats and just lurking in the background until someone speaks to him directly (now theyre wondering when he was added).

Now a few purely indulgent headcanons

I will be a strong believer in Xiao's ear twitching when someone says his name and knowing exactly who it is. Also, Xiao having a pet bird. Dont ask just him with a pet bird. Also Xiao just infodumping about his favorite thing whoever has been unlucky enough to ask.

And for some angst.

Xiao's caregivers only caring about his grades, when they ask about why he has anything lower than a A his anxiety gets worse, his caregivers are probably acutely aware of this man's crippling anxiety but they ignore it, because he has grades and school to take care of. Xiao's siblings picking on him for not having many friends or not going out as much and making fun of him for fidgeting or stuttering when he speaks, or when hes speaking softly they mock his voice so he just clams up (love u xiao i promise 😊).

Xiao getting bullied but the moment they mention any of his younger siblings he decks them in the face and might even give them a black eye, or might even sprain their wrists only Xiao can mess with his younger siblings. (Alternatively, Xiao being the fun big brother to anyone younger than him because he adopts the outcasts of his school)

I feel as though this was longer than usual for some reason. The amount of times i had to retype this because i closed the tumblr app (i write on my phone) and fell asleep halfway because i started writing this at like 5am 🫡 i did get sleep i just love staying up late during the summer

-🪶

ANXIOUS!XIAO- XIAO BRAINROTS- FROM FISCHL ANON, TODAY IS A BLESSED DAY-

xiao is a nerd. yes he is. he is just so smart <3 and he's really proud of it too. also- xiao with glasses- HHHHHH- but like, the round glasses, with very thing metal thingies if you get what i mean,,, and then him just pushing it up and mumbling about homework and uasiudfgjha-

anxious!xiao who has no idea how to interact with anyone, like anyone at all. it makes him super nervous and he'd rather not speak at all if that means he won't embarrass himself. especially if it's a group of strangers- xiao is an introvert.

also, xiao being a badass and no one knowing he is one- i- yeah, he will absolutely destroy someone if he wants. but until he gets to this point... takes a rather long time and this is why he often gets picked on. they all think he's weak, but he is in fact not, he's just the bigger person abt it <3

anxious xiao who has very few friends, maybe one or two and even with them he feels just... so anxious. class chats always end up with him reading but never writing/sending something, not even homework when someone asks. he just can't- he gets too nervous, fearing another situation, where he ends up used and alone. he just doesn't really have trust in humans anymore :(

PLEASE?? xiao with a bird??? that bird's name is alatus and is his one big love. when someone asks if he has a pet, xiao will literally bloom and hhhhhh- just talk about his fav lil birdie.

sobbing rn. this hurts really deep. my heart is bleeding- xiao's family just being assholes and xiao can't do anything about it and they only make it worse- this is why he's always studying so it doesn't get worse. he has the unhealthy mindset of being perfect and it's- not good for him :((

but him still being protective of his family is just <3333 xiao, you're perfect and i love you very much <333

just- xiao, who has problems with social things because he never learned, always feeling pressured thanks to his family but he can't just- stop. he has to continue, so they will be proud, he has to protect his siblings, because who else will??

ALSO- thank you sm for sending this!!! i totally feel this, tumblr moblie can be a fuckin bitch <33 but please get enough rest, even tho it's summer :)

[yinses]

B R A N D E D

| he would make sure that everyone knew who you belonged to |

tattoo artist! sukuna ryomen

rating: t

a/n: this is going to be a three part series. it got too long because i couldn’t shut up. thank you to @teoran for beta reading !! 

you should have never informed yuuji that you were thinking about getting a tattoo, because of course his first response would be hey, sukuna owns a shop. why don’t you stop there. as if you didn’t already known that. your other friend, unfortunately had not known how to be subtle about it.

its when you go to hand off your card that they gasp audibly, drawing the attention of both yourself and the woman behind the counter.

“you’re not going to ask for a discount? i mean you know the owner, right?”

she jumps back quick enough to dodge the errant elbow you throw her way.

you knew you would regret telling her.

the woman is undeterred as she take your card, looking bored with the news. “so you know sukuna, huh?” the way she said it implied that it wasn’t the first time it had been made known to her.

you had known the man long enough to know where her thoughts were going with that assumption. sukuna wasn’t only popular for his art. a shudder rolled through your body at the idea of being categorized as one of his flings.

it wasn’t as though you were intentionally shaming the women. but it was sukuna. the same guy who locked you and his younger brother out on the patio whenever he was meant to keep an eye on you. and then blamed you for hiding from him when the responsible adults got home.

in hindsight, maybe you should have chosen another location. but now your card has been charged.

you scribbled your signature on the receipt, “uh yeah, awhile now. im not requesting him or anything.”

“his appointment book is full anyway. he doesn’t take walk ins.” its not said snidely, just matter of fact. as if she was seasoned with dealing with these kind of customers.

the man of topic strides in then, carrying a few bags of take-out that he drops carelessly onto the counter. he doesn’t m look unlike any other day, a loose white sleeveless shirt with a low hanging v-neck that just invited attention to his skin. the swirls of black ink made permanent by his hand only. though that was the advantage of this field and owning your own business on top of it.

sukuna was prepared to ignore the clientele planted at front desk, until he did a double take. those vermilion eyes took you in, morphing from speculation, to shock, a pinch of awe, then back to postulation.

“what are you doing here?”

a small frown mars you face. you didn’t actually consider that perhaps sukuna wouldn’t want you here. it was one thing to know the guy, but whether you wanted to accept it or not, you weren’t just another customer. so you unsurely respond with, “getting a tattoo?”

the snort he gives isn't one of annoyance. in fact its almost comforting to see the minuscule curl of his lips until they start to part, “yeah, missing something aren’t you?”

you realize with a frown that he’s referring to his brother.

“i have other friends.”

that slow smile wides as he gives your friend a brief look of appreciation. suddenly all those years of witnessing him cart his flings around rise to the forefront of your mind.  really nothing rarely changed. “ i can see that.”

his gaze cuts back to you, “what are you getting? your boyfriends name?”

you cant tell if he’s teasing, fishing or a combination of them both.

he turns to lean over the counter, arms flexing at the action and pinches the fresh design still hot from the printer. you resist the urge to shuffle in place as he inspects the image with more interest than there were lines. it was hardly all that complex, just as you intended.

sukuna finally voices his opinion, to no surprise of your own. “yeah? kind of small isn’t it?”

“its my first sukuna,” you drawl.

you realize too late that the wording isnt best around him.

“no kidding.”

he tugs a styrofoam box free from the plastic bag before gesturing to you with a tilt of his head.

“alright, lets knock it out.”

you look to the woman expecting her to complain about his pending appointments but she only returns it with a pointed look. when it came down to it, what the boss wanted goes.

right then.

turning, you address your friend who seemed more invested in watching sukuna��s departure. “are you coming?”

her gaze snaps to you and she doesn’t even bother to pretend. she shrugs, “you may not be squeamish about needles but i am.” her hand waves vaguely towards the lounge area near the coffee station and stack of assorted snacks. “i’ll come running if you scream though,” she teases as you turn down the hall.

sukuna’s voice carries from the right in guidance where you find him setting his food off to the side. the room is neat. though you don’t know what you were expecting given the health expectations lining his work. then again, you’d spent the better part of the decade watching him cart week old pizza boxes out of his room so it was hardly a baseless assumption.

aside from the desk of tools and variety of inks the only other defining feature was the wall at the back. there was no rhyme or direction to the madness. the once white wall was littered with varying penmanships and messages. almost like an autograph book. some derogatory, others genuinely thankful for his work - you think you see a few numbers too.

the cushion of the seat protests under his weight as he rolls to the center of the room. he has the stencil of your chosen art held up in expectation.

“where is this pretty little thing going?”

“oh my rib- here on the right.” you think nothing of bringing up the hem of your shirt to expose the skin just under the curve of your breast.

he almost looks impressed, though there is some doubt. he wheels closer and gives no warning as his hand palpates the area. “over the bone? that’s daring for your first tattoo, princess.”

the name was nothing new, an accompaniment to yuuji’s ‘brat’.

part of you actually grateful that its sukuna. the entire shop had good reviews but it was best known for his talent. besides, the charge was already sitting on your card.

“i can handle it.”

he’s still squinting at your side, fingers tickling at your skin.

“yeah?” he answers absently. nimble digits you didn't think had any taste for delicacy carefully peel the plastic from the stencil. he doesn’t second guess himself in the slightest before pressing it to your skin.

when he pulls away, the chair follows him as he collects a hand mirror from his desk to reflect the design back to you.

“double sure?” he’s still rallying your resolve, but there is a hint of warning to his voice as professionalism seeps in.

with a firm nod you seal the deal,” yeah.”

“aright, pin up your shirt out of the way. tuck it into your bra if you want.”

you were expecting this already, given the location you’d decided on. with sukuna that action comes effortlessly without thought. it was no different than the times he’d seen you in your bathing suit, your brain reasoned. at least you still had your pants this time.

sukuna rests back into a lean against his small desk. absently you note that his eyes haven't left you once since you’d entered the room.

“eager little thing aren't you?”

but its sukuna.

you shrug.“ i guess. kind of been saving up for this one.”

the noise he makes is non-committal as he nods to the angled chair.

without your shirt there was no barrier between yourself and the leather. you expected the cold chill but the lack of stickiness kind of surprised you. once again you were reminded of the indisputable list of reviews at your fingertips.

sukuna goes about collecting the materials to disinfect your skin, angling the bottle and cotton over the trash can to catch the excess drops. satisfied with the saturation, he slides back.

you try to absorb the brief shock you feel when he applies the alcohol to your skin. it was hardly a substitute for actual bracing to come but it was good practice. when you look up, you catch his gaze again.

he’d been more observant in these last few minutes than you could ever recall sukuna caring before. maybe it was the job. though the thought of him excelling at customer service has you fighting a snort.

“cold,” you supply and he gives another grunt.

he chucks the cotton ball into the trash with all the efficiency of a man who has made a sport out of it and probably keeps score.

deciding on a solid color eliminated the need for him to break away to change shades, eliminating any surplus time keeping you in this chair.

a gloved hand braces your side, pinching the skin, while the other holding the gun rests against your sternum. when the motor starts you take a careful breath in. sukuna’s eyes raise at the sound.

“not nervous?”

you blink, expecting him to just get to it.

“uh, not really? i’ve never really been afraid of needles.”

he pauses. just when you part your lips to ask what wrong the buzzing starts.

its impossible not to tense at the first bite of the needle. but you fight the urge to jerk. it stings. the vibration of the motor is uncomfortable against your ribcage but it's not unbearable. you certainly wouldn't cry.

sukuna seems to notice it as well.

“not going to lie thought you’d be more of a cry baby? weren't you the one sobbing after you stubbed your toe.”

you latch onto the idle chatter even if it's a jibe.

“i was eleven and i sprained that toe.”

he gives you a quick glance. “sure, princess. completely called for the waterworks.”

you snort. “yeah well it made me stronger. im barely affected today.”

your words are followed by a shift of his hand as it turns to follow a line, the movement pressing firmly against the underside of your breast. you're too attentive to the needle pinching at your skin to take notice.

but sukuna does, eyes narrowing without your awareness.

“yeah, i can see that.”

rather than closing your eyes to block out the pain, you find a more comforting distraction in tracing the lines of his tattoos with your gaze. you can hardly make out the first tattoo he’d gotten at the age of seventeen after forging his parents signature. 

the abstract design had now branched out, interlocking with new styles to map out the formation of a sleeve. it was almost like his own branded language. a dialect of bold shapes and bands. you’d never thought to actually ask what his tattoos meant. nor did you expect an honest answer.  

sukuna works rather quickly and efficiently while your mind wandered. even if he hadn’t squeezed you in during his lunch break this felt like the usual pace for him. he looked so in the zone as he followed the pre-made lines to perfection.

you weren’t the model customer, still having your brief moments of weakness but he rolled with the interruptions better than you expected. sukuna was brash growing up and didn’t tolerate nonsensical people. you’d had your fair share of opportunities to be chewed out by him.

and earned a reasonable amount of them, though your returning attitude said otherwise.

but this sukuna was softer, if you could put it like that. he knew the right time to give you breaks but didn’t let your nerves settle too much. when he wasn’t adding a layer to permanency to your skin, an errant finger would smooth over the swelling flesh.

more than once you heard him throw out a quiet good girl. that you knew was meant to be encouraging but it came with additional implications that tickled your skin.

he tells you that you should be grateful that the artwork doesn’t need any shading. that it was never a good fit for beginners.

your chest expands the furthest it had in the last half hour when he finally rolls back.

“alright, princess, go ahead and take a look.”

you take the offered mirror again and angle it to take in the fresh piece. the reflection you get back is- amazing. you’d been so concentrated?? on micromanaging the pain that you failed to take in the little details he’d added along with the original design.

as if reading your thoughts, he snorts. “it's not my art if i don't leave my mark. you can tell me it looks good you know.”

if you didn't know any better, you’d say he was authentic in his attempt to bait your approval.

and you had no reason not to provide.

your legs are a little shaky but you manage to balance yourself before brining the eldest itadori into a hug. sukuna goes stiff for a moment before returning the embrace and doesn’t resist when you press your face into his shoulder. there’s an awkward pat before they release each other from the hold.

sukuna .. before he’s shrugging you off.

“god, what a noob. at least let me cover it up. you’re going to irritate the skin.”

when he turns back to rummage through his desk you note the hint of a flush creeping up his nape. you know better than to mention it, instead just smiling at his back.

there is a scowl on his face as he applies the cotton square to your skin and tapes it in place.

“please do not itch this shit. i don’t care if you feel like your skin is going to fall off.”

he presses a small tube of antibiotic into your hand.

“and apply this daily. you don't need it drying out. “

you’re grateful for the little slip of printed instructions that follow. you were able to remember the sensible directions but it couldn't hurt to have additional guidance when you started to question the progress.

“oh and no sex.”

that was definitely not on the list.

sukuna raises a brow in all seriousness. “what? if you get your blood pumping too much.”

you call him on his bullshit,” this small? hardly. “

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “alright, try it yourself if you want. i charge for touch ups though.”

the two of you size each other up. just like old times.

with a sigh you relent, “fine, no sex.”

“good, see me in two weeks.”

his words stop you short. it wasn’t as if you needed anything added and he wasn’t a physician checking on your progress. if anything, you would only revisit your artist if there was a problem.

“what for?”

the dawning grin would follow you for the next fourteen days.

“to make sure you didn’t have sex.”

[breakoutime]

Rewarded

Hades x (Neutral)Reader

Warning, nsfw!

Tags: Cockwarming, size kink, exibitionism? praise kink? (ask to tag pls)

Summary: Reader has been working hard for the house of Hades, and the master of the house has noticed and wants to reward them.

Authors note: Ok, VERYFIRST TIME writing smut, hopefully its good, or at least passable, english isnt my first language soooo yeah keep that in mind... P-please gimme feedback >///<

Your job at the House of the dead was a strange one. You weren't quite sure how to name it, but for now everyone referred to you as “The assistant”, you never really stayed in the same place for long, always being the one everyone called for help when a task was too much to handle. You have been assigned to Dusa to help with the cleaning, you’ve been working hard with the other shades inside the archive, you’ve been even assigned to stand by Achilles' side when the master of the house had visitors and considered some extra security was necessary. Dusa would always tell you how happy everyone was with your presence in the house, how helpful you’ve been, and how amazingly adaptable you were, having skills that allowed you to act and serve in all these different areas. Your face was quite often on the board at the Lounge, and it was obvious Hades himself was quite pleased with your performance. It was often that you would be called into his desk, to either give a report on your current task or to be praised for your hard work, which always left you inspired and happy for your next task.

You had to admit, your hard working attitude came not only for your passion for your work, but also for the passion you felt towards your master. You couldn't be quite sure when it started, it definitely wasn't there when you first arrived at the house. Hade´s was a rough man, cold, strict, serius. You would always hear him berate the others when their performance was not enough, often punishing them if their results were lacking. It was somewhere between Orpheus' punishment for refusing to sing, and when Zagreus started to openly fight back against his father, that you were called, alone, to Hades’ desk. Of course, at that time, you were anxious, wondering if even with your efforts, the master was disappointed in you and called to have you berated and punished, just like Orpheus was not so long ago, but no. Hades had specially called you simply to praise you, to say how, when so many of his workers, when even his own son was unable to handle his duties, you alone were there to support, cover and pull the needed effort and time to have the house working properly. You weren't able to suppress the smile in your face, or the tingling in your stomach as you heard the so often strict and stern master, praise your hard work for the whole house to hear. Slowly but surely you became obsessed with it. With working hard just to hear Hades himself telling you of your good work and how pleased he was with you. Soon you realized that those words did more than just kindle the fire of your hard work, but also left you warm with another kind of fire, one that burned between your legs. Now, everytime Hades praised you, you had to- no, you needed to take a short break to indulge yourself in that heat, to touch yourself and satisfy this burning need that arouse from you each time that booming, rough voice reverberated through your being, just to tell you how good you’ve been to this house, to him.

Today, you were hoping for such a praise, since you’ve been assigned to work at the archives, getting a lot of paperwork ready for Hades’ reviewing. This was your favorite thing to do, since the Lord was always so busy with paperwork at his desk, always reading and writing and filing, he never had anybody else there to help him with that particular part of the process, sure, at the archives many shades worked to get said paperwork ready for him, but no matter how hard you worked or how many shades he had at his disposal, he was always glued to his work, concentrated and dedicated, but also tired and slightly bored of the repetitive tasks he has at hand. There wasn't much you could do other than work hard and please him with your work, which immediately sent another jolt of heat through you. Of course, your stack of documents was done, which meant you now needed to personally deliver them to his desk. Your smile was proud and your face was slightly flushed from the heat you felt, feeling a bit too eager today to hear what your master had to say. Silently you wondered if it was noticeable, if the master knew that your enthusiastic work and demeanor came from these kinds of feelings, or even if the other people in the house knew. For a moment you thought how would Zagreus react, if he knew you had the hots for his father, but you quickly had to shake that thought and compose yourself, as you passed Achilles and walked straight up to Hades’s desk. 

As always, he was seated there, in his throne, reading attentively one of the many documents he had in his desk. One small part of you felt bad, because the stack of documents was considerably going to grow with the one you were holding, but sadly that stack was going to work either way. Patiently you waited, the stack was heavy but his desk was way too tall for you, and you already knew that interrupting him was never a good idea. If only you could float like Hypnos or Thanatos, or if you were taller, but just like the prince, your stature meant that you’d need some help to get up the desk. Soon, you saw Hades pick up his plume, signing one of the documents, a sign that he was done with his current one, and immediately you made your wade to his side, ready to hand the paperwork for when he stretched his arms to receive them. With a pleased hum, he acknowledged you, taking the stack of papers and thanking you in the process.

“Quick and efficient as always. Glad that there is someone here who never disappoints me.” You had to stifle a laugh, the comment was not only a praise to you but also a small insult to Hypnos, who was floating and sleeping soundly in the hallway in front of you two. 

“Now,” he said, tidying the new stack of documents before fully turning to you. “The house has been working quite efficiently lately, so i'm afraid there are few dignified chores left for someone of your skill and dedication...” That wasn't exactly a bad thing, sometimes you were given time off to rest, but there was something different about the way he spoke, the way he was looking at you. Anxiety started to build in you, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he simply raised his hand, stopping you. “Except one thing.” He moved, lowering his hand to your level. “Come here.” You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, your knees trembling, and cold drops of sweat falling from your brow. Was he really telling you to climb his hand? Nervously, you took a seat on it, allowing your master to raise you and place you comfortably in his lap. This was new, very new and confusing, you’ve never seen anyone have the honor of sitting on Hade's lap, but there you were, comfortable laying in one of his powerful thighs, staring up at him. Your master, who everyone respected and feared, who always made your very being burn was giving you this sort of treatment, of affection? His voice is lower this time, huskier, “Today I have a different task for you… A different kind of service that I need” His hand was on your back now, rubbing it gently. “One which will be quite pleasurable for you and for me.” You had been staring at him this whole time, looking at his eyes, his expression, which was something you’ve never seen before, desire was evident in his face. Desire for you. “I have made a concoction, to allow you to handle such a task-” he continued, now his other hand lifting his robes, exposing himself for you. You could not believe it. Your master wanted this from you, just as much as you wanted it from him. His size was massive, proportional to a man of his build and stature, you couldn't help but reach out, running your hand over it, how were you supposed to  please him? Even with your both hands you wouldn't be able to stroke him firmly, much less fit him inside of you- But your thoughts were interrupted by something uncorking. He did say something about a concoction, but how-

A small vial was in his hands, the liquid of which looked like nothing you had ever seen. It shifted in color, going from red to orange to green, it must have been made from Hades’ power. “Do not fear. Spread yourself for me, and I'll take care of the rest...” You didn't have to be told twice.  Breathing heavy, you allowed your master to pour that strange liquid into your entrance, which seemed to burn you in the most pleasurable way, making you let out soft pleased sounds. “It was about time we took some sort of break, so few of us take our work seriously...” gently, he applied pressure with his finger into your entrance, which to your surprise stretched without problem to fit his finger, coating your insides with the strange liquid as it went in. “And you are one of the bests of course.” His words were like honey, fueling the need inside you. “That's why I know only you will be up to this task….” He removed his finger, having your insides well coated and warm for his member. “I want you to keep me company, to keep me warm... While im at my desk today.” Your legs were shaking, but you knew what you had to do, he really didn't have to tell you. Bracing yourself against his chest, slowly you pressed your entrance into his member, even with the concoction, it took some effort, the tip slipping a couple of times before being able to get in. The stretch should have been painful, but all you could feel was pleasure, the burn of the strange liquid must have changed you, allowing you to take such size and not feel an ounce of pain. “Hmmmmm, go on now, get comfortable- Ah~!” Your master moaned when you started moving, the tightness of your hole breaking a small part of his determination to keep this quiet. You yourself weren't being quite quiet either, whimpers, moans and whines coming out of you as you slowly adjusted your tight grip on Lord Hades’ cock as you sank down, coming to a rest against him, now his member fully sheathed inside of you. Your Lord seemed to be taking a moment to compose himself while you simply slumped against him, your thighs twitching as your insides squeezed exquisitely around your master. In the back of your mind, you wondered if this was some sort of dream, one witch you’d never want to wake up from, but as Hades moved a document from the stack to be reviewed, one of his hands went for you, lifting you barely from his cock and pushing you down again, making him growl in satisfaction and you cry out in pleasure. “Absolutely perfect. Even now your performance is impeccable.” You couldn't really answer much to that, being a bit overwhelmed by this whole situation. “I was hoping to work while you kept me pleased, but you’ve demonstrated to be far more… stimulating than I thought.” He shifted you again, making you see stars and your insides to tremble. “But It hardly matters, this just means my paper work can wait....” He looked hungry at you, even more so, now holding you with both hands with the clear intention of focusing on you. “Now I’ll have to work on giving us both a reward for working so hard.”

With that, he started really moving you, pounding at you slowly and gently at first, but quickly picking up pace and intensity. Your screams of pleasure practically echoed in the house, you were unable to repress them, far too gone in the pleasure to care. “That's it, L-let everyone know your price- your pleasure!” He boomed on top of you, now lifting you up to lay on the desk as he stood and pounded away at you. “Let this be an example for everyone- Only the best can get this from me” Hades growls and loudly proclaims on top of you now, his movements so fanatic you can't understand how you havent came ten times by now, but the ecstasy you felt right now was more than worth it. You couldn't help but look around, now laying in said desk you had vision of Hypnos, who clearly had woken up and was openly staring with both of his hands over his mouth, a deep flush evident in his face, and achilles, who clearly was looking away, red and ashamed of being in proximity of such an act, and of course, many shades where looking, some even cheering at the expectable, even with the little features they had, you could see a pang of envy on them, which only fueled your pleasure. With a mighty grunt, he slammed deep inside of you, filling your insides with his seed, which was all you needed to break and finally cum yourself, blacking out for a second, over the overwhelming wave of pleasure he had just given you, that delicious burn his liquid gave you coming back with vengeance, making you ride your orgasm with that pleasure too, leaving you utterly spent and satisfied. Maybe it was that same liquid which made your orgasm wait, so that you could reach it with master Hades. 

Now, with both of you panting, he gently pulls out of you, covering himself again and using a clan rag on one of his drawers to help you clean up. The adoration in your face must have been evident, since the look he gave you was both gentle and smug. “I’ll leave you to rest in my quarters, but once I'm finished with this paperwork, I'll join you one more there, I won't be long.” With that, he picked you up and carried you to his room, just in time for zagreus to rise from the river, shooting you a questioning look as he saw his father carry you away. You were far too tired to care, really, the only thing that mattered now was the fact that Lord Hades himself was laying you on his bed, where he would surely instruct you to pleasure him, now in private. Curling up. you knew you needed some rest if you wanted, like always, to give your very best for the task.

[leossmoonn]

Training Session [Peter Parker]

masterlist 

pairing - peter parker x fem!stark’s daughter!reader

type - fluff

note - hope you enjoy! also idk ANYTHING about martial arts or combat fighting so lol dont take i wrote too seriously

summary - peter finds out mr. stark has a daughter and you two are put together for a training session.

warnings - lil suggestive

————

*gif isnt mine*

“How do you like it?” Sam asked.

You turned to the mirror, eyes wide and mouth agape, admiring your new suit.

“This is awesome!” You squealed.

Sam, Tony, and Nat had deisgned a new suit for you. After your last battle, your suit had been torn to shreds. It had been months since you were able to go out in the field and you’d be anxious to fight crime. Now that you had your new suit, you were now able to fight crime.

You were named Fox. You were sly, witty, and and charming. Not just in your moves, but your personality, too. You had been working alongside your dad, Iron Man, for 7 years. You were 10 when you started, obviously too young to actually be fighting, but you were his right hand woman at all times. You helped him with his suit, team, and plans on how to deal with missions.

Your suit was a dark orange body suit, much like Nat’s. You had fingerless gloves, black combat boots, and an orange mask that went around your eyes. You had a black stripe down your suit’s back, much like a fox’s. You also had a utility belt with a grapling hook, taser, and pepper spray — you could never be too careful in the city. You and Tony tried hard to keep your identity safe, especially since you were still in high school.

“Do you think we need to add anything?” Tony asked.

“Can I get rockets on the bottoms on my shoes like you?” You asked.

Tony chuckled, “We’d have to change the whole material of your suit, cupcake. You don’t like metal, remember?”

You grumbled, “Yeah, yeah. Well, I love it! Thank you guys so much.” You turned to them with a big smile.

“No problem, babe,” Nat smiled. “You have training with me today at five.”

You nodded, “Noted.”

“There will be someone else joining you in trianing today,” Tony said.

“Who? Is it Bucky?” You asked. “No, he’s new,” Tony said.

“Wow, that gives me a lot. Who is it?” You pressed. 

“You’ll see. He’s actually pretty good for just starting out,” Sam smirked. 

You sighed, knowing they were gonna make it a surprise. 

“Well, I can’t wait!” You faked enthusiasm. You didn’t like surprises. 

You went off and up to your room, changing out of your suit and into running shorts and a t-shirt. You decided to take a nap before your training.

You woke up 2 hours later, still as exhausted as before. You filled up your water bottle before going into the gym. You saw Nat and a brunette boy. He wasn’t too much taller and by the back of his head, he didn’t look too much older.

“Hey, Nat,” you greeted as you walked in and set your water bottle near the mat. 

“Hey, Y/n! This is our new recruit, Peter Parker. You probably know him as Spider-Man,” Nat smiled. Peter turned around and his eyes widened. 

His heart started to race and his face turned red as he looked over you. Your eyes were bright and lively, your smile being the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen. Your skin flawless and you had no makeup on, but you still looked beautiful. 

“Hi,” you smiled. “I’m Y/n Stark,” you held out your hand. 

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was a squeak. Nat and you chuckled at his shock. 

“H-hi. I’m Parker. No, Pe-Peter,” he stuttered and shook your hand. 

“Not used to meeting important people, huh?” You smirked. 

“Ye-yeah, but also pretty people,” he blurted. His face turned a darker shade of red and he slapped his mad over his mouth. 

The action made Nat giggle and his words made flustered as well.

“Thank you, Peter,” you said shyly and looked down at your shoes. 

“Ready to get to work, love birds?” Nat teased. 

You rolled your eyes and nodded. You took a long sip of water.

“We are gonna start on the treadmill, do some weights, and I’m gonna teach you some combat moves,” Nat instructed. 

You and Peter nodded and got up on the treadmills. 

“One mile today. Remember to pace yourself. If you get tired, don’t be afraid to slow down a little,” Nat said. 

You started the treadmill at 3.5 so you can warm up for a few minutes before running. You took a small sip of your water as you sped-walked. You looked over and saw Peter already running his mile. Your brows cocked upwards as you saw him running at 6.0 speed.

You worked your way up to 6.0 speed, finishing your mile in 6 minutes. Peter, however, finished 3 minutes after you. 

“I said pace yourself, kid,” Nat said. 

Peter blushed again and nodded. 

“Next time, follow Y/n’s lead. She paces herself nicely,” Nat said while you took a drink of water. 

“Thanks, Nat. I have been doing this for a long time,” you smiled. 

“How long? Are you a superhero?” Peter asked. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I’ve been helping my dad since I was 10. I’ve been a superhero for 3 years.”

“What’s your superhero name?” Peter asked. 

“Fox.”

“Oh, my God! Really? I-I am such a big fan. You were what actually inspired me to become Spider-Man. I think it’s so cool how you save people and fight off bad guys without any superpowers,” Peter gushed. 

“Thank you, Pete,” you giggled at his excitement. 

“You’re welcome. Wow, this is so cool. I am working with Fox, Iron Man, Black Widow,” Peter smiled. 

“You’re lucky, kid,” Nat smiled and patted his back. “Okay, why don’t you all stretch. Peter, have you ever benched before?” 

Peter shook his head while stretching his hamstrings. 

“Okay, we’ll start you out with 45 pounds. If that’s too light, we’ll bump it up to 50,” Nat said and put the weights on the bar. “Y/n, what do you wanna do today?”

“Uh, I’ll do a leg and glute day today. My arms need a break,” you said. 

“Rock and roll, then. I’ll spot you, Parker,” Nat said. Peter went to bench press while you went to the kickback machine. 

You and Peter worked in weights for about an hour. You did a variety of workouts while Peter mainly focused on how to use each machine and which would be most beneficial for him. 

“Okay. Grab a drink, use the bathroom, whatever you need before we do some fighting,” Nat said. 

You both went to do your things before you were going to fight. You came back in the gym, stretching your arms while walking in.

“Ready to work, Pete?” You asked the boy and patted his back. He nodded and choked on his water when he looked up at you

You changed our of your shorts and t-shirt to black biker shorts and a grey sports bra. The biker shorts hugged your body perfectly and the top of your breats showed, making Peter stare.

You noticed and smirked. “My eyes are up here, kid.”

His eyes immediately shot up and his face blushed for what seemed like the 100th time today.

“I am so sorry. I just don’t see girls in bras, like, ever. In gym class we all wear t-shirts, which makes sense. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I swear I’m not a prevert or anything, you just look really uh... nice? I—”

Nat and you turned to each other, amusement played on your faces. You turned back to the rambling boy.

“It’s okay, Peter. I get it, boobs are nice to look at. Especially when you’re a hormonal, almost always horny, teenage boy,” you teased.

“I’m not horny!” He claimed, embarrassing himself more.

“Don’t worry, I never assumed you were. I was just speaking generally,” you smiled.

“Oh,” he said and he looked down sheepishly.

“No worries. Now, let’s get goin’,” you said.

Peter nodded and followed you to the mat. 

“So, we are going to practice some basic moves. Y/n, I know you already know them, but there is nothing wrong with reviewing,” Nat said. 

You both nodded, waiting for further instruction.

“So, the first one is simple, yet very dangerous. It’s also fairly easy, in my opinion. It’s called the rear neck choke,” Nat said. “Peter, you’re gonna stand behind Y/n and put your arm around her neck.”

Peter nodded and awkwardly stood behind you. Your butt brushed against his crotch, making him cough awkwardly. He put his arm around your neck. The skin-to-skin contact made your heart flutter. You cleared your throat, too, breathing deeply to try and slow your heart rate.

“Good. Now, you basically just squeeze until the person passes out. Y/n, why don’t you demenstrate the next move,” Nat said.

You smiled and took ahold of Peter’s arm. You then crouched down and pulled him over your head. You flipped him over on the mat.

“Ow,” he whined as he fell. He looked up at you and couldn’t help but smile. You stood tall, hands on your hips and a smile on your face.

“Now, Peter, what you can do when she does that is hook your legs on her ankles and pull so she looses balance. You then can reach for her ankle and throw her across the room. But, we arent going to do that. What you can do, though, is do the ankle bit I told you. Then you can pin her down,” Nat explained.

Peter looked at you two hesitantly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Y/n chuckled, “It’s all right. You won’t hurt me that bad, I promise.”

Peter nodded and did as he was told. He hooked his feet over your ankle and jerked you so your feet gave out beneth you. He then got up quickly to pin you down, but you were quicker.

You rolled over and pinned him down instead. Your left hand held his wrists above his head while your right held down his shoulder. Your legs went around his waist and squeezed slightly to make sure he wouldn’t move. Your head leaned down to his, a triumphant smile resting on your lips.

“W-wha-” Peter was at a loss for words. Not just because you beat him, but how close you two were.

He breathed in deeply, catching a whiff of your scent. You smelled like cherries and vanilla. Your skin was smooth, clear, and glowing from the sheer film of sweat on your face. You looked like an angel to him, nonetheless.

“And that is why you gotta be faster, Parker. But you’ll learn in time. You’re already pretty good on the field by yourself,” Nat said.

Peter nodded. You got up off of him and helped him up.

“Wanna try that again? I promise I won’t do that again,” you suggested.

“Sure,” Peter nodded and laid back on the mat.

He hooked onto your ankle again. As you promised, you let him pin you down. You watched the way he moved. He was swift and fast. The way his muscles flexed when he grabbed your wrist made your stomach flip.

He got on top of you, pinning both your wrists like you did to him. His free hand went to the side of your face, helping him support himself so he wouldn’t be laying directly on top of you.

Your heart rate quickened once more and you felt like it was hard to breathe. A few strands of his hair were hanging down from his head and he had sweat glistening on his forehead. His honey-brown eyes was something you found yourself getting lost in quickly. He was so handsome.

“Uh... Y/n?” Peter muttered, catching your attention.

You blinked rapidly and looked away in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he gave you a friendly smile and got off of you.

“Okay, water break. You two practice those few moves a few more times,” Nat said.

You got up and took a big sip of your water bottle. You then got back to training with Peter. He was a fast learner and almost every time pinned you down. You, however, were slightly faster.

Each time you got on top of him, Peter couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach. He’d never been this close to a girl before.

Thirty minutes later and the session was over.

“Good job, you two. Next time we’ll get into more moves involving punching and such. See you later, kiddos,” Nat smiled at you two. She left the gym and you turned to Peter.

“It was nice meeting you, Pete. Maybe we can hang out outside of training?” You suggested.

Peter’s eyes lit up and he nodded excitedly.

“Y-yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great. Give me your number next time. See you, Spidey,” you waved and left the gym.

Peter jumped up and down. He couldn’t wait to tell Ned.

————

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[slutsofren]

surrender the night

*this is a companion piece to my series, Danger Days, but can be read as a standalone

summary: you and joel have been together for a while, no longer worrying about fireflies or about ellie, the three of you became pretty close-knit out on the road and now in jackson but joel is usually closed off with you today until he wants to show you how much he loves you while hunkering down from the rain.

cw: no y/n, intimate/soft smut, mild bratty reader, slight angst, light humor/teasing, established relationship and life in jackson, joel being emotional AND vulnerable, SARAH MENTION that needs a whole TW i swear

word count: 3,884

a/n: congrats to pedro on this role and welcome new fans to tlou!! <spoilers> tlou2 isnt entirely canon in my version bc our man survives abby and her bullshit so we can all be happy here; but check out my series following the first tlou game with slow burn and other fun tropes here on ao3!

read on ao3 here!

Bandit attacks were on the rise again, always spiking before winter starts and at the tail end of it. You had been pulling nearly nonstop shifts at the wall and scouting nearby. Joel noticed how tired you were getting and tried to convince Tommy and Maria to give you less time on rotation. You thanked him heavily for it but if there was one thing you were good at, it was keeping those you loved safe.

The rifle was heavy in your hands, your thighs warmed by your signature dual handguns there, you were armed to the brim but it did nothing considering the visibility was poor. It was raining on and off since the two of you began your shift but as you neared the small town, it had gotten heavier as you got closer to the last stop on the scouting trail.

Beside you, Joel had been quiet nearly the entire time since the two of you left Jackson and each time you tried to ask him if he was okay, he shrugged you off. It wasn’t unusual for the man, he was a rather private person despite the many many months the two of you had been together.

The one thing that warned you something was wrong was a conversation the two of you had only last night. For the first time ever, Joel spoke of a memory between him and Sarah, the daughter he lost over twenty years ago, of how she would banter with him and keep him on his toes. He smiled while telling you a couple stories of her but fell into a tense silence afterwards that seeped well into today and you figure his silence has to do with it.

Your horses came to a stop in the garage of the safehouse as the two of you jumped down. “I’ll shut it,” you offered quietly as you lowered the garage door to keep the horses safe and warm away from the harsh chill of the winds and rain. Joel gave a grunt of confirmation and he opened the inside door to enter the house, shaking his head a bit to rid his hair of some of the dampness.

As the garage door shuttered gently to the ground, you turned to follow Joel up to the third floor of the safehouse and gave a firm pat against your horse as you walked by. Joel had already begun turning on the small lamps that were sparsely laid around the stairwell to make sure you didn’t trip. This was one of the few three story homes that were still viable despite how broken everything was inside. The walls still had some insulation but the dust and debris were stark reminders of everything that had been lost since the cordyceps virus took the world by storm. 

When you reached the landing, your stomach was in knots, Joel’s behavior wasn’t unusual per say but he was rarely like this with you on scout missions, often being more in the moment with you than his usual reserved self. Being outside of Jackson, the two of you had to communicate in order to stay alive, everybody did. It was the only means to survival but his behavior was beginning to worry you more and more.

You removed the rifle from your shoulder then leaned against the doorframe of the master bedroom, watching as Joel signed in both your names on the sheet on the desk that had been pulled in the room. He sighed heavily and turned to face you, “I don’t think we’ll make it back to Jackson anytime soon with the rain.”

“You’re probably right.” You pushed off from the doorframe and shrugged off your backpack, reaching for the long-range radio. You shifted it in your hands before clicking it on.

“Base, this is Athena’s Mark, please be advised we are hunkering down at the last checkpoint. Rain is too heavy to travel. Over.”

After a couple moments passed, you heard the tell-tale sign of a response with static then a click before Maria’s voice rang out. “Athena’s Mark, your message has been received. Notify Base if there’s any sightings out there. Stay safe you two, over and out.”

You looked up from the radio in your hands and saw Joel leaning against the desk with his arms wrapped in front of his chest. He looked at you and you gave him a soft smile before fully entering the room and setting your weapons and backpack down beside the large bed that was still in rather good condition all these years later and sitting on it.

“Y’know you never told me why your code name was Athena’s Mark,” he asked from behind you, watching as you began to unlace your boots.

You smiled as you recalled the memories. “When I was still running with the Fireflies I would sneak over to the Humanities department and steal some of the abandoned books from the offices. One of the rooms belonged to a Greek historian and I found their book on mythology,” you explained without looking up. “By the time I arrived in Jackson, I still had a few of those books in my possession. One day Maria and I got drunk and she called me Athena as a joke but the name stuck with me on missions.”

You laid the unlaced boots on the floor and laid down in the bed, listening to the rain patter against the roof and windows, drowning out all the outside noise. “She said I looked like a goddess of war when I had blood on me, fighting to protect Jackson.” You threw a hand behind your head and stared at the ceiling before continuing. “If the world hadn’t gone to shit, I’d like to think that’s what I would have done with my life. Become a historian or something.”

“I think I would have liked to see you like that,” Joel said in his gruff voice. You smiled at his words.

“What would you have done?”

“I was a carpenter, and even wanted to start my own business. Work was shit to come by but it paid the bills.”

You smiled, remembering all of his wood carvings in the spare bedroom of his house. “If bills weren’t an issue back then, what would you have wanted to do,” you prompted instead.

“I wanted to be a singer but with Sarah and all,” he trails off. You remembered him admitting this once, forever ago but now the candor feels different because he said her name.

Sarah.

You sit up from the bed and look at him, the broad strong man he is, looks like he’s a million miles away. His eyes are unfocused and his face looks conflicted. You get up and take tentative steps towards your boyfriend. “Joel?”

He looks up at you and unfurls his arms from his chest, instead opening them up at you. You walk to him a bit more confidently and walk straight into his embrace as he wraps his arms around your frame. He buries his face into the crook of your neck while you encompass him and rest one of your hands on the nape of his neck, your fingers gently dancing in his dark hair.

“I love you,” he says, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. His arms wrap around you tighter, pulling you closer into him. “I think she would have liked you.”

You try to pull back a little to look into his eyes but his grip only tightens around you, refusing to let you budge. “I think I would have liked her too, Joel.”

For a man of few words, the ones he spoke have taken your heart by storm. The two of you have been together for a while but the intimacy between you has rarely been like this.

He stays like this for a few more minutes, composing himself. You play with his hair with one hand and the other draws random circles across his back. Silently telling him you’re there for him. After these moments pass, Joel pulls his head back from the crook of your neck to start leaving a trail of kisses there, his beard leaves a scratchy but familiar burn across your skin.

Without using words, he’s telling you how much he loves you, how much he cares, how much it pains him when you’re not together, and you bask in it. “Joel,” you whine as his kisses suddenly shift to small sucks and bites on the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Come here,” he demands slowly, finally bringing his lips to yours.

As the two of you kiss, he tangles his fingers in your hair, his other hand kneading the flesh on your ass. Joel has you melting in his hands as your worries fade. You figure today was rough on him and you’re more than happy running away from the anxiety.

The two of you do this dance with each other's lips until he pushes off the desk, advancing to his full height towering over you. He doesn’t let you break the kiss instead he presses harder into you deepening it.

The more he wordlessly asks, the more you feel like you’re drowning in him, his scent, his touch.

Joel places both of his hands on your hips as he pushes you backwards, walking you to the bed. The backs of your knees hit it and you stumble a little but his sturdy warm hands keep you from falling down. He breaks the deep kiss the two of you were sharing, both just slightly out of breath but heavily disheveled. A shuddering intake of breath and he leans his forehead on yours, his eyes closed. “Will you have me?”

“Yes,” you sigh against him. “Please.”

Just as you slightly beg, any worried thoughts you had were whisked away as he removed your denim jacket from your body. His large calloused hands worked their way back up to your head, his fingers getting tangled in your hair, gently pulling you back so your neck was exposed.

He gently laid kisses up and down your jaw, taking sweet time and care with you.

Your hands drifted up his torso, unbuttoning his soaked red and black flannel. Once the last button popped, you moved your hands across the expanse of his chest, pushing both his flannel and brown coat off him.

A deep groan rises from Joel’s throat, “Easy now.”

He takes a step back and fingers at the hem of your shirt, pulling it off your body. You rush a little and put your hands behind your back, undoing your bra. Joel watches you silently as you discard the article to the side of the bed where your shirt lay on the floor with his.

His hands return to your body, working themselves at your jeans and he pulls them down, gently easing your leg out of each pant leg. He’s being so gentle with you, being so vulnerable and soft.

You stand in front of him as he remains kneeling in front of you, still in the position he was when he removed your jeans. He leans forward and rests his head on your stomach and you feel his breath over your panties.

“May I,” he asks, fiddling with the elastic waistband.

Your fingers catch in his hair as he pulls back, looking you in the eye when you grant him permission, “Yes.”

His eyes study you as he tentatively pulls your panties down, letting them fall. He comes back against your skin, kissing from the tops of your thighs and makes his way upwards across your stomach, between the valley of your breast, your chest, and neck, before finally coming back and kissing you on the lips.

“Get on the bed for me, will you?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, lost in this tender moment with your lover.

Naked and kneeling on the bed, Joel fixes his stare on you, taking his time to unbutton his belt then jeans. His eyes trail over your body, watching as you begin to squirm under his watch.

He pushes forward and kneels on the bed before maneuvering himself to lean back against the headrest. He grabs your leg to swing over his thighs to make you straddle him but his hands stay at your waist, keeping you from fully sitting on his clothed cock by giving attention to your breasts, licking and biting gently as he did with your neck not moments before.

“You’re breathtaking.”

A giggle leaves you at his words aligned with feeling overstimulated by the way his mouth and beard felt on your skin. “Joel, please.”

“Settle down, you heathen,” he says between nips and kisses. You feel him smile across your skin as he pulls you down onto the sheets, coming back to your lips to kiss you more and more. His hands encompass your body, roaming up and down the valleys on your skin, completely enamored with you. 

“Make me,” you tease against his lips.

Joel takes this as a challenge and he sits up, leaving you prone against the pillows. He towers over you, his thick fingers dancing gently across your skin, making a winding trail down your body. “Please,” you begged softly.

Joel said nothing as he sank two of his rough fingers into you and laid down between your thighs to suck and lick at your clit. Your hands flew to his shaggy black hair, taking a sharp inhale at the sensations. Joel eats you out nervously, taking pride in the way you moan to the walls of the empty house. Your sharp intakes of breath get lost under the patter of rain against the roof and windows.

“I love you,” he says against your heat. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Your breath is already stolen away at the way he fucks you with his mouth and fingers but you’re breathless by the way he admits his love for you. The vulnerability of it makes you come against his tongue.

“That’s my girl, that’s it.”

His approval and praise send you soaring but he doesn’t slow down his efforts, instead going faster. Before you could even come down from the blissful high of an orgasm, another tidal wave is rising again. “Joel, I’m coming again,” you whine.

“Come as many times as you want,”

He leaves another trail of kisses across your stomach as he makes his way back to kiss you on your lips. You can feel your wetness on him, taste yourself on his tongue and you moan into him. 

“Lay down, let me treat you,” you say in a low voice as you try to push Joel against the bed. He leans up and puts his hands on your wrists, stopping you.

“No, tonight is about you.”

“Wha-,” he cuts you off with another opened mouth kiss on your lips, he keeps kissing you down your neck to your left  arm, not stopping until he’s kissing your hand.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are,” he whispers against your palm. “The first time I saw you, I fell for you. You had your gun pointed right at me, coulda killed me.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.”

He huffs, hot breath hitting your hand. “I sure as hell am too.”

He drops your hand and shifts on the bed, removing the last piece of cloth covering his erect cock, “I think I woulda let you toss my ass around that first day I laid eyes on you, if I’d known then what I know now.”

“You almost didn’t let me go with you, remember,” you tease.

“Would’ve been the biggest regret of my damn life, sweetheart.” He drops his boxers to the floor, not taking his eyes off you.

“Tell me again, Joel.”

He line’s himself up with you, “I’m glad I found you.” He gently thrusts only the head of his cock into you and pulls out. “I’m glad you never put up with my bullshit.” He repeats his movements but pushes a little more into your wet cunt. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Finally he pushes himself all the way in, eliciting a sharp whine from you. “Fuck, I’m so lucky.”

Your lover pushes back your thighs, allowing him to fuck you deeply. His movements stir that insatiable beast inside you, constantly lingering for more and more pleasure.

He sinks harder and faster into you as his warm hands grasp your hips, his eyes trained on the way your soaked pusst takes him so deeply. He’s locked on the sight of the way the two of you are connected just as how you are mesmerized by watching him.

“Do you feel as good as I do, darlin’?”

You respond by squeezing around his cock, “You feel so good in me.”

It was like he got a second wind by the way he fucks you even harder than before. You throw your head back as you feel the familiar rumble in your abdomen and you squeeze your legs around him, not allowing him to pull out further. Joel surprises you by using two fingers to rub tight circles against your clit. 

You bite down on your lip to try and contain the coming moan but fail. He feels too good in you, on top of you. His scent invades your mind bringing you to the ultimate climax. Your head is tossed back and a throaty loud moan is released into the air by you.

“Joeljoeljoel,” you plead, coming again against him, your legs spread so far to allow him to penetrate you deeper. Your orgasm rolls through you like waves and your body lifts in response, searching for more, more, more. 

He continues to pound harshly into you, not swaying in pace. “You’re so beautiful when you come around me, feels heavenly too,” he moans above you. The hand he had tangled in your hair moves to your jaw, his thumb caressing your bottom lip as you sigh, coming down from your high.

Joel’s thrusts soon turn erratic and sloppy as he chases his own high, you hear a deep growl rise from his throat. “Fuck, shit,” he breathes, pulling out of you swiftly, pouring himself over your stomach.

You reach up and thread your fingers in his hair, pulling him up for a kiss. You praise, “Good boy.” 

Vulnerable, Joel laughs and sits up on his knees to look down at you. Basking in your afterglow with remnants of his love smeared across the expanse of your stomach that reflected in the soft glow from the lamps and setting sun. He fingers his own hair with both hands, sweeping his messy locks back. 

He gives you an indecipherable look that he hides by shifting off the bed and rummaging through his backpack insearch of a rag to clean you with. He returns and does his usual routine while you lie on the bed, feeling warm and safe.

He returns to the bed and you crawl on top of him, seeking to add his warmth to yours to fight away the rainy chill. His arms wrap around your back, holding you close. Refusing to let you move away.

Together, the both of you came down from your blissful highs, your breaths synchronizing into calm and slow inhales and exhales. You laid your head on his shoulder, dancing your fingers along his chest drawing nonsensical designs. The two of you laid like that for a while, you listened as his headbeat fluctuated from steady to rapid and back as if he was working himself up. Just before you open your mouth to ask if he was alright, he took a sharp inhale.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” he starts.

“Oh, no. Nothing good comes from you thinking,” you laugh, hoping to ease his mind.

Joel squeezes your hip and pulls you closer, “Hey now, none of that shit.” You laugh a little more at teasing him before he takes another sharp inhale as he continues. “As I was sayin’, I know this isn’t conventional, hell, none of this is conventional,” he gestures wildly in the air, “but I was wonderin’ if you’d do me some kind of honor and make me your husband.”

This knocks the breath out of you, more than the wonderful dick down he just gave you. You lean up and face him, trying to make eye contact but his stubbornness doesn’t let him take his gaze off of the ceiling.

“Joel, are you serious,” you ask.

He furrows his brow before letting go of your body and getting up from the bed. You’re about to start protesting when you see him reach for his own backpack and pull out a wooden box before he sits back on the bed and stares at it hard.

“Y’know I was married before. Back then. I never wanted to do it again, especially not in this world. But then I met you. That shit don’t compare to how much I love your ass. You’re smart, you keep this old man in check, and most of all,” he looks at you, “we don’t get to take life for granted any more. Not when every time we leave Jackson could mean we don’t make it back alive. I want to marry you in every meaningful way, even if you are a goddamn brat.”

As he says this, your eyes fill with tears and you sit up on the bed, facing him. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet today?”

He nods once, “What? You make me fuckin’ nervous.”

You smile wide and lay your hands on his, over the box. “I love you, Joel Miller, you stubborn old bastard. Now gimme the damn ring”

Joel lets out a sharp laugh at your words and lets a smile hang on his lips. He opens the box and hands it to you where you see a beautiful silver ring with a delicate floral design. A gasp leaves you as you take it in, how intricate and ornate it looks.

“Talked to the blacksmith and got it made for you especially,” he explains.

You take the ring from the box to admire it closer before Joel takes it from you and places it on your ring finger. “You had Gustavo make this for me?”

“I told him your favorite flowers and he did the rest.”

You’re too stunned to speak by his admission. He knew of your love and attachments to the old blacksmith which made this ring that much more beautiful in your eyes. You pull the elegant ring out of the box, treating it like it’s fragile before placing it on your finger.

“I’ve been wanting to marry you since you saved my damn life,” he admits. “But it wasn’t until last night when I told you about Sarah without feeling angry or sad when I knew it was time.”

His confession wells tears in your eyes again, his long since passed daughter was always a subject the two of you danced around, even his ex-wife. Him talking about this, about Sarah, it means he’s nearly ready to open up and it means the world to you.

“Does this mean I finally get to teach Ellie how to throw knives now?”

“Absolutely not, what the fuck?”

[negandarylsatisfaction]

[SUMMARY: Negan works on winning Everly back as his jealousy continues to rise.]

Fluff

Negan and Everly PART TWO

As the days went on Negan never left your side. It was hard to consider yourself suddenly back together with him after everything and you weren't afraid to let him know this. As stubborn as he was, he didnt care if you considered yourself with him or not. He knew he wasnt going to leave your side and he promised himself he'd show you that you could trust him. One thing you noticed was that you never really saw Daryl anymore. You missed his friendship and his company. He watched from afar but decided not to meddle in as long as you were okay. Until one day he spotted Negan on the porch by himself having a beer. The door of the house was open and he noticed you looking a bit uncomfortable on the couch. You winced feeling the baby begin to kick hard when Daryl headed towards the house. Negan looking out in the other direction never noticing Daryl making his way close to the door. Without stepping in, he peaked inside and heard you moan in discomfort.

"Ya alright"? Negan turned to Daryls voice, his voice instantly making you look up.

"Hey, yeah I'm fine. The baby is just kicking a whole lot today." You called out to him just as Negan leaned in to look over at you to make sure you were indeed alright.

"Shes fine, why dont you go worry about your pal Rick."

"Should make sure ya womans alright before going about cha business." He looked over at the beer bottle sitting on the floor in reference.

"Oh you're just waiting for me to screw up arent you?" Negan grinned getting very close to Daryl.

"Daddy fucks up so ol' red neck Daryl can save the day."

"Negan it's fine." You rushed to the door as fast as you could not liking how they both stared at each other. Daryl turned away from him as you stepped to the door and unhooked something from his belt.

"Here, I got cha these. Heard they good for babies or somethin'." Negan watched as Daryl handed you a small bag of blue berries making him scoff.

"You just dont give up."

"Negan he isnt doing anything wrong. Thank you, Daryl."

Negan didnt take his eyes off Daryl who eventually gave him a threatening glare in return. The two men slowly charging closer to one another before Daryl sucked his teeth.

"Ya ain't worth getting her worked up."

Daryl quietly walked away as Negan looked down at him in disapproval and watched him walk off the porch.

"Come on get inside." Negan turned back to you entering the house with you.

"What do I gotta do, get you some fucking blue berries for you to not be mad at me anymore." Negan muttered under his breath making you sigh.

"I'm not mad...I'm just hurt." Negan looked over at you with your response. A soft sight of guilt on his face, he knew he had messed up. He knew you had a right to feel how you felt and didnt argue back. You turned away with your hands on your lower back, today the pain felt worse than usual. You took a deep breath before suddenly feeling Negans hands on your back.

"Just relax, the asshole has a point. I dont need you upset." Truth be told Negan wanted to rip Daryl apart. He couldnt stand the way he would catch Daryl looking at you. He blamed himself for this as he knew if he had been around, no other man would've taken care of you the way he was supposed to.

The next day you woke up close to the afternoon, carrying a baby around was alot of work.

"What the hell is that?" You whispered hearing loud noise coming from the living room. Rubbing your eyes as you opened your bedroom door, you found Negan laying on the living room floor beneath what looked like a crib. Squinting your eyes in confusion, you walked towards where Negan was as he sat up and noticed you in the living room.

"You like it?" He grinned happily as he stood up.

"Where....? How?" Is all you could ask, never did you think your baby would be able to have a crib of their own.

"I went on a little run this morning, got a few things that I think you and the baby will need. Check this out." Negan spoke with excitment as he picked up a box showing you baby bottles and baby clothes he picked up.

"I got boy clothes and girl clothes cause shit, I dont fucking know what we're having. Some baby books here, I just took eveything from a day care."

Speechless you looked at Negan as he continued unpacking all things he found. A smile appearing on your face as you watched him show you toys he found as well.

"You did this all by yourself?"

"Do I look like the kinda man that needs any assistance?" He responded humoursly.

"I dont know what to say... I-" distracted by the bloody bandage on Negans arm you cut yourself off.

"Oh my gosh, what happened?" You rushed beside him taking his arm in your hand.

"Little bruised up, nothing I couldnt handle. I'm alright, darling." Negan watched as you observed the bloody bandage with very concerned eyes, you yourself realized how worried you became. Feeling him looking down at you, you looked up, the two of you silently staring into each others eyes. It had been so long since you had looked at him this way, in that moment Negan wanted to lean in and kiss you. Truth be told, you wanted it as well. But then, maybe it was those damn baby hormones making you feel all soft inside, abruptly you turned away putting your attention to the baby clothes. Negan could tell you were fighting it, he could tell you were still hurt as you had every right to he.

"Well these baby clothes are very nice Negan. I love everything, thank you."

"Better than them blue berries, huh?" Negan teased not being able to help himself. Laughing it off you walked back to the bedroom.

"I'm going to go sit out on the porch!" You called out to him as you changed into a comfortable casual lavender dress.

"I'm going to-" Negan heard you stop with a gasp.

"Youre going to what?" He called out a bit concerned.

"Everly?" Negan ran to your bedroom to find you with your eyes closed and your hand on your belly before you let out a sigh.

"Sorry, the doctor told me whenever I feel a sharp kick to take a deep breath slowly."

Negan was out of breath from his heart jumping in fear.

"God dammit woman, you okay now?"

"Yes, Negan I have it under control." You walked past him to make your way to the porch. Confident in the breathing techniques your doctor showed you, you lay back on the chair outside watching the people walk by. A few minutes later Negan came out and bought you some fruit.

"Mmm..these fruits grew amazingly." Taking a bite out of one you savored the juices that came out of it.

"The fuck is he looking at?" Negan whispered causing you to look up at him. Angrily he stared out at Daryl who was on the other side facing the both of you.

"Negan..." you whispered grabbing onto his hand. Daryl took two steps foward making Negan step down from the porch.

"Negan please dont start.." you called out to him, struggling to push yourself up as the two men walked to each other stopping face to face.

Negan distracted by the jealous rage he had for Daryl did not pay attention to you speaking.

"What the hell do you want? You think I dont know what the fuck I'm doing?" Negan stared directly at Daryl, his brows deeply knitted together.

"You think you can do better than me?"

Daryl didnt say a word, simply looking directly at Negan with disgust. After a moment, Negan broke out into a sarcastic smirk.

"Go ahead hit me, show Everly the big and bad man you are." He whispered in his face making Daryl make a fist.

"Go ahead, do it." He unexpectedly shoved Daryl.

"Negan!" You screamed feeling too exhausted to get to where he was when Daryl suddenly swung at him. With a gasp, you watched as the two men began to fight each other. Daryl swinging once again at Negan who ducked and speared him onto the ground.

"Stop it!" You screamed suddenly feeling a sharp pain like none you had ever felt before. The pain so strong it made you lose your balance and lean towards the fence.

"Everly!" Maggie called to you running to your aid, Negan held Daryl down when he suddenly heard the commotion behind him and looked back. His eyes widening at the sight of you wincing in pain, he released Daryl and turned to run to your side. Maggie stood by your side holding you up as the pain continued to linger.

"What happened?!" Negan ran to your side, his energy still pumped with anger.

"Let's just get her inside." Maggie suggested as Negan took your other arm guiding you into the house.

"Talk to me, what are you feeling?" Negan spoke low to you his hands holding you tightly. Just as you went to speak another sharp pain ran through you practically making your knees bend as you screamed. Maggie and Negan didnt let you hit the ground and held you up, his eyes worriedly looking at Maggie.

"Wheres that fucking doctor?" Negan asked as they took you to the bedroom and gently lay you down. Taking a deep breath you felt your water break, you knew this was it. The baby was on the way and their was no stopping it.

"Where is she?" Your eyes widened at the sound of Daryls voice in the living room. Negan instantly turning with a growl ready to pace out of the room before you weakly called out to him.

"Negan- please.." he turned back to you with a clear look of frustration. Daryl showed up at the door way, instantly you saw the damage Negan did to him.

"Everly....ya need anything?" Daryl asked not caring that Negan was right beside you. He didnt care that he had just got into a fight, being so concerned for you.

"She needs you to get the fuck out of here."

Daryl took a step in and that's when Negan went towards him, blocking him from getting any closer.

"Negan." Your voice out of breath, neither of them saying a word. Negan took one step closer and looked him directly in the eye with a mean mug.

"They will never be yours." His voice was low but stern. Daryl knew he was right, it angered him that he grew feelings for you that he couldnt control. Feelings for you that were not reciprocated. Letting out a cry of pain Negan quickly turned back to you, rushing to your side.

"I need to push." You cried, squeezing your eyes shut in pain Negan looked up at Maggie.

"Get that fucking doctor already before I drag him in here by his fucking head."

Maggie ran out to find him as Negan held your hand. Daryl watched as Negan looked down at you in concern, he watched him comfort you brushing the tears away from your face. The man was someone Daryl couldnt stand, he didnt understand how someone so gentle like yourself ever got together with Negan. But one thing he could not deny was the love Negan had for you. The guilt he could tell he had as a man for ever having failed you. Distracted by the doctor running in past him to attend to you, Daryl silently backed out of the room. He could hear the doctor instructing you to push, the sound of you in agony leaving both him and Negan distraught with being helpless. Daryl quietly stood by the main door way of the house not wanting to leave until he was sure you both were ok. Negan held your head up as you pushed for dear life, the look on his face of pity watching you go through this pain.

"The head is out, just one more strong push. Take a deep breath." The doctor instructed as Negan looked down at you.

"You hear that, baby. One more strong push, give it all you got." Negan motivated you noticing how exhausted you were. Quietly you nodded your head and with one last hard push the baby was fully out. The cries of the baby instantly bringing a smile to Negans face. Daryl turned back towards your bedroom hearing the baby cry, he could hear the happiness in Negans reaction. Without saying a word he left the house.

"You got yourself a girl." The doctor expressed with a smile as you cried with happiness. Maggie gently wrapped up the baby and placed her on your chest as Negan leaned over you looking down at her. The two of you looked at each other for the first time in a way you had never before. You knew you loved Negan, you always had.

"Do you have a name for her?" Maggie suddenly asked making the two of you turn to her.

"Oh I hadn't thought of any honestly. I-"

"How about Mary?" Negans suggestion made your heart flutter.

"Mary....yes," you smiled up at him as he looked down at you. Maggie smiled at the both of you, the doctor and her excusing themselves from the room as they could sense unsaid words.

"You know I'd do anything to go back in time and change what I did, dont you?" His eyes glimmered as he looked down at his daughter. His finger softly caressing her cheek, making her smile.

"I would never leave you two. Ever." His eyes looked back up into yours. The sincerity in his eyes were clear, Negan was determined to make up for any time lost with you.

"I love you," you whispered. How could you deny your love for him? He leaned in and softly pressed his lips against yours. Soon the doctor returned back into the room and Negan took Mary in his arms. He sat in the corner of the room on the recliner, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Negan couldnt believe he was a father, you watched as he cradled your daughter with the softest touch. You didnt know what the future would hold with the way the world was, all you knew was that Negan was the man you wanted to face it all with.

[smnthwrd]

i told myself i wasnt going to get fired up about mickey milkovich today but i started thinking about it and now i cant stop so im just gonna give anyone who cares a messy rant about how HOMICIDAL it makes me when the characters post-s5 talk shit about mickey. this isnt going to be eloquent because im exhausted but maybe ill come back and say it better some time. it just pisses me off so unbelievably much how as soon as mickey left, everyone--even mandy??-- took to shit talking him every chance they got.

its like, is mickey perfect? no, of course not, but no one on this show is?? and they dont just acknowledge his flaws, which they could have done and i wouldnt have been mad, but like everyone constantly talks shit about him and talk about him like hes an idiot (emotionally AND academically,) but they never seem to acknowledge just how fucking crazy it is that hes even come this far considering his horrible, awful upbringing??? like fucking hell man, ian literally called it "the milkovich house of horrors" at one point and everyone just expects him to come out of that and be fine?? like, huh?? no one on the show talks acknowledges the fact that the milkoviches didnt have a fiona growing up to look after them, to make sure they went to school, washed up before dinner, and maybe even talked about their feelings occasionally. the milkoviches grew up in an "every man for himself" household with terry milkovich for a father and like yeah? thats going to leave you with some problems ?? but no, no one ever acknowledges that its amazing that mickey was even ABLE to come out at all, considering all of the trauma he endured in the milkovich house--including being LITERALLY raped for being gay. if you ask me, its honestly just amazing that he didnt kill himself, let alone that he actually came out and started living his life as himself. i mean really, how many gay men with a backstory as tragic as his make it out alive and in love?? not many, in real life OR in television. but no no no, mickeys an asshole because he has to live with years of homophobic trauma that ultimately left him with a few issues 😐🤚

and DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED on how ian himself shit talks mickey every goddamn opportunity he gets????? like even after mickey comes back?? like the fact that in their fight scene at the baseball field ian is literally COMPLAINING because mickeys gone ~soft~ or whatever and whining about "where's the shit talking piece of south side trash i fell in love with blah blah wah wah aah suck it harder f*ggot😫" and TAUNTS mickey until he punches him back (i know that ians got his own reasons for this, im not hating on him, i love ian dearly) but then has the audacity to turn around and act like mickey was just so toxic🥺 and abusive💔, as if he didnt explicitly state that thats why he fell in love with him🤡 and then talk so lightheartedly about his FORCED MARRIAGE to the mother of his child that was CONCEIVED THROUGH CONVERSION-RAPE💀?? like the way the writers had ian so casually shit on mickey and trauma while hes gone just rubs me the mf wrong way. and then even in later seasons?? he STILL talks down TO him and about him and claims that "his emotional IQ is lower than carls actual IQ" as if mickey didnt look after him when he was working at the fairytale, come out to his VIOLENTLY homophobic father for him, try to take care of him during his depression, worry himself SICK when he took yvgeny during his manic episode, help the others convince him to go to the mental hospital even though he himself was against it at first, lay down in bed with him and KISS HIS FUCKING FOREHEAD, go to his doctors appointments with him, buy him every b vitamin he could find because he thought it would help, and then not only tell him he loves him, but use his WORDS (which is something we know is difficult for him) to explain to him exactly what "love" means to him.

im sorry WHAT?? where is this "low emotional IQ" that im hearing so much about? because thats not the mickey milkovich that the writers and noel fisher spent 5 seasons building and beautifully portraying 😐🤚

and im genuinely not going to get into the whole byron thing in s10 and the monogomy conversation because i ACTUALLY dont have the enegy to explain how angry i am with the writers for completely throwing all of his character development in the trash. just-- the fucking BUFFOONERY of it all.

it honestly just feels like writers revenge, like they wanted to make mickey seem like an asshole because they were bitter about noel leaving--which he had EVERY right to do considering he was putting in the work of a regular but not getting paid like one. so i dont know if fiona disliked mickey entirely or just with ian, but it seemed to me like she just didnt like him. it makes me glad she left, because i honestly cant picture her welcoming mickey into the family the way the rest of the gallaghers have.

[prose-for-hire]

Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows everywhere

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Bodyswap anon here! I appreciate you offering but you dont owe me one. Although I did have an idea that was an AU where reader runs a bakery and Spike runs an auto repair shop. I love the "grump is soft for the sunshine one" trope and just wanna see a slow burn of badboi Spike fawning over the shortie wearing bright colors that comes in with a flat tire during a downpour who isnt afraid of him in the slightest. If you like it, go for it! I just love cliches and tropes lol

Requested by: Anon - hope this is okay love 💖

You walked slowly into the seemingly deserted auto-repair shop. It smelled of oil and damp and you wondered if it was even still open for business. There were thick cobwebs in almost every corner and the lighting was only on where it was absolutely necessary. You looked around, blissfully uncaring of how badly things could go if the wrong sort of person worked there. You smiled around the place, your presence a ray of sunshine in the otherwise dull surroundings.

You had your brightest outfit on, dulled only by the flour you always managed to get everywhere on you throughout the day. You owned and almost solely ran a bakery not far from this shop. You stopped in the middle of the garage, looking around and not announcing yourself in case it startled the man bending over and tightening… or was that untightening something on an old looking car.

He paused his job, looking over at you. He took one look at you and rolled his eyes, turning away from you and pretending to be very busy. He had a pretty bad reputation around town, but everyone still went to his shop because he was good at his job.

You cleared your throat softly, maybe he just hadn’t seen you. You had a flat tire and it was late. The dark started to consume you slowly before he turned fully and stalked towards you.

 “You look lost” he said, closing the distance and looking you up and down menacingly as if you were unwelcome. Which, you were. He didn’t like being interrupted. He didn’t like people coming into his shop uninvited. He scowled, something that usually kept people away. But apparently, not you.

“No, I know where I am! I just need some help – I’ve got a flat” You said, a pleasant smile on your face as if you were oblivious to his threatening stance. He sighed, rubbing his hands on an old rag before gesturing at you to show him to your car. You basically skipped away and he followed behind.

 He just grunted when you got there, stepping around you and taking a look at the tire, which was undoubtedly flat. Like, pancake flat. You weren’t even sure how it had happened.

“Yeah, that’s a flat” he stated, looking up at you as if to ask what you expected him to do about it.

“Would you be able to fix it?” You smiled and he peered at you confused as to why you weren’t at least avoiding his eye contact out of fear or respect. 

“Yeah” he scoffed, rolling his eyes at such a stupid question.

“Oh great, that would be really nice!” You gushed, “You’re so kind, thank you!”

 He leaned over and you couldn’t help watch as he expertly changed the tire for you. You sat, trying to make conversation but he didn’t reply to anything that you said. Eventually, he finished up and you thanked him profusely.

“You’re really good at your job” You smiled, complimenting him softly. He looked taken aback, not entirely sure if you were actually making fun of him or not. He just grunted slightly in response so you decided to ask, “How much?”

“350. Flat rate” he shrugged after thinking a moment. You really were too sweet for your own good – in a way he decided to take advantage of. You were a fully grown adult, you knew the usual rate. You weren’t naïve, you were just incredibly kind.

“For one tire?!”

“Take it or leave it” He said, although he had already changed the tire for you so realistically you would have to pay it.

“Pastries!” “If you cut the act and charge me the proper rate you can have as many pastries as you like from my bakery when you come in as a thank you”

 “You own a bakery? Who are we kidding - of course you bloody do” He muttered, raising an eyebrow, “Ok, usual rate... and free pastry for the rest of my life”

“Rest of the month” you entertained his bargain.

“Year”

“You drive a hard bargain, sir!” You exclaimed, before grinning in a way that his expression definitely wasn’t matching, “I’ll see you soon!” you called, jumping into your car and speeding away with him staring after you.

Later that week, he took you up on your deal. You were behind the counter as he sauntered in, “Welcome to Angel Cake’s! It’s nice to see you again – this is my knight in shining armour from the other night!” you dropped your voice and explained to your employee. The young girl who came in on a Saturday to help out looked Spike up and down and raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t liked the sound of him – you were too friendly. Saw the good in people when from what you had explained, there didn’t seem to be any there. Spike had tried to take advantage of you.

“Right, yeah. Spike. Name’s Spike”

“I’m y/n!” You smiled, “Hey, your name doesn’t suit you much – you’re kinder than your name suggests!”

“I think the name’s about right” your co-worker Nina cut in, the younger girl not known for her tact. Spike scowled at her and turned back to you.

“I’m here for my pastry” he stated. No further niceties and no eye contact. He would insist he was trying to avoid being blinded by your colourful choice in outfit for today. You nodded and started busying yourself, choosing him one that you hoped he would enjoy. You put one in a bag and passed it over.

Your hands brushed against each other as you passed him the to-go bag. You shivered and he pulled away too quickly. He snatched the bag up and turned on his heel, stalking out of the door without so much as another word. He came back every two days or so to claim his pastry, sometimes lingering slightly but never saying anything more than which baked goods he would like.

The next two weeks went quickly and it had been really busy in your store. You noticed you hadn’t seen Spike so often – so you decided to do something about it.

“Bugger off – we’re closed” he growled, his back turned away from the door but he could hear footsteps entering. Your footsteps.

“Hey!” You called and he paused when he heard your voice. As if this would have been the only exception to his statement. That is, if he cared. Obviously.

“What do you want? I got business to be doing here, haven’t you got a rainbow you could be skipping over”

“Oh, I was just bringing you something – freshly prepared today! Uh, and you always seem so lonely working here so I thought maybe I could keep you company”

“I don’t get lonely. I like it this way” He insisted. This was a lie. He did feel lonely, some nights desperately so. He looked up at you and you gave him a small smile, a nod of understanding as you were ready to turn away. He thought about your nature slowly as you turned away. You didn’t put on an act, you genuinely felt for him. Cared to ask or swing by. So he made a decision. He opened his mouth before you left and said, “Uh, you can leave those” pointing at the box of donuts you had brought that you had lovingly prepared only moments before you drove over to his shop. He didn’t want you to stay, at least he wouldn’t admit it anyway. You nodded, placing them down and waving an enthusiastic goodbye. Pleased that he had at least taken your treats.

It was now a month later. He was working in his shop and he couldn’t stop thinking about you. His mind always turning back to you. Every waking thought, and the occasional dream too. He tried to shake himself out of it and continue working on a car.

But he couldn’t focus. He decided to have a break. He had been in several times for pastries since your first meeting, some he even paid for himself. He sat down, wiping his hands down his overalls. He grabbed at the pastry and started to bite into it.

He closed his eyes - it was just so good. It was sweet. Like you. Like heaven in his mouth. Your baking. He found himself filling his thoughts with you, often subconsciously but more recently it has been on purpose.

What were you doing? Did you ever think of him the way he thought of you? What would the bread of the day be today?

His eyes snapped open. It finally dawned on him. How he felt for you. He had been soft on you for a while now, he had just been fighting it – and for what? Oh, right. Because he couldn’t face the crippling rejection. Especially not from you. He had isolated himself on purpose after all, too used to the denial of his affections. To people in his past treating him as if he wasn’t worthy of love.

Still, he understood it now. He got it. He liked you – really liked you. And there was nothing he could do to fight it. He wanted to spend time with you. Your soft and kind nature became sweeter to him than the baked goods he loved so much. He didn’t want to be stuck, hiding in the dark anymore. He wanted to be surrounded by light. By your softness. Your bright, cheery smile. The array of dazzling colours that he had started to enjoy gazing upon the sunny tones. He decided he would have to do something about the way he felt.

So, he did. He tried at least. He stood outside having what must have been his second pack of cigarettes in the last hour. He was stood awkwardly outside your bakery chain smoking to gain enough courage to enter. Until, that is, the door opened and you popped your head out.

“Hey! Spike! Nina said you’ve been hovering by the door, trying to decide whether to come in or not for the last hour… are you okay?”

“That bitch-” he muttered under his breath, “Been worse, love. Um, h-how are you?”

“Oh I’m good thank you! I have some freshly baked bread I’d really love you to try! Come in!” You called, tugging at his sleeve slightly. His questioning you was new. He never usually asked. It excited you, but you knew better than to make a fuss over it. You wanted him comfortable after all.

He sat, eating the bread and telling you how good it was. He was almost gushing over your granary loaf and you couldn’t help but beam at him. He explained that it was by far the best bread he had ever eaten.

“Would you- did you want to-” big overexaggerated sigh with his entire body before carrying on, “Are you doing anything in your break?”

“I am now – would you like to go on a walk with me?” You asked.

You walked around the block, happily talking and encouraging him to chip in when he wanted to. You loved hearing from him. However, the heavens had opened and the rain had started to pour. You hadn’t expected this and weren’t dressed for the weather. You managed to hold a conversation and he proved himself correct with every step he took with you. He was falling for you.

“You’re, uh, shivering, love” he noted as he walked in-step beside you.

“I’m a little cold – rain can do that to you I suppose!” You grinned and he frowned ever so lightly. You said words but your mood never appeared to dip. It was as if you were his own personal sunshine, no matter what the outside world threw at you both.

He shrugged his jacket off and offered it to you, nodding his confirmation that he meant it. You smiled wide, not thinking and instead swooping in to hug him. An action that almost knocked him from his feet.

He just stood there. Still, not sure what to do. He found himself really enjoying your embrace, but he didn’t move his hands from his side. He wanted to, but he was embarrassed. What if you felt him hug back and laughed?

“Oops – sorry!” You realised you had been a little too enthusiastic with your hug. Some people don’t like hugs, you reprimanded yourself for a second, before looking back at Spike and beaming, “You want to help me bake this afternoon? Nina’s handling the front” as you shrugged his jacket around your shoulders.

“I, uh, should get back…” He offered, but his expression appeared to be in deep thought. He was conflicted. He really enjoyed your company, it appeared. But he would never agree to an afternoon of baking. He had insulted people for suggesting way less.

“Come on! You might enjoy it!” You couldn’t help but press. You really did want him there.

“Fine. But don’t be expecting it to become a regular thing… I’m just helpin’ you out seeing as you keep bangin’ on about it” he muttered, but secretly he was absolutely thrilled. He couldn’t help glancing at you every moment he felt he could get away with it as you both rounded the corner.

At the bakery, Nina rolled her eyes and scowled at Spike who stuck his two fingers up at her when your back was turned.

You started off reading the recipe, weighing up large quantities as you had a lot to bake. Spike took it surprisingly seriously. He hadn’t realised how much work went into making some of the items you sold. He would never take your pastries for granted again. He actually said this to you out loud, promising you. It made you giggle.

“I always struggle with this part” you say softly, trying to mix the large bowl of cake batter.

“Should I-?” He offered starting to roll up his sleeves and offering to take the duty over for you.

“Maybe we could try it together?” You smiled and he just nodded – in the name of helping you mix it better. Of course he would share the responsibility with you. You trusted him with it and standing that close to you would be a gift.

Usually, you might use an electric mixer. But you wanted to take it all back to basics. And perhaps, allow yourself to become a little closer with Spike. You both had a grip on the long wooden spoon and started to stir it together. He was stood behind you, but close enough for you to feel his presence. You both shared a small smile, without realising it as you watched the mixture become silky smooth.

You stumbled, not used to sharing a workspace and tipped the flour down what happened to be Spike’s front. You managed to pour flour down the front of the apron he had been wearing.

“I’m so sorry!” You said, trying to bite back a giggle.

“You’re going to be” He raised an eyebrow and took a handful of flour and threw it at you – making you squeal. This quickly descended into a flour fight that you decided had to be a draw as you were both covered. You were both laughing and you paused, savouring his smile. It was a real, genuine smile and it made you swoon.

You shared prolonged eye contact, holding your gaze through the flour that was still in the atmosphere around you. You shared another small smile before getting back to your respective tasks.

Eventually, you finished up and started to clear away as the cakes were now baking in the oven, “No way!” Nina exclaimed from the doorway. She was trying to hide her snort of laughter as she came to ask how long the next batch would take and she saw Spike crouching in front of the oven willing the cupcakes to rise through listing off a string of threats. Apparently, threatening them into it whilst he was wearing a baby pink cooking apron. You were crouched beside him, the oven gloves on in anticipation.

“Bugger off, short stack!”

“Nina, there’s a customer waiting” You said softly, giving her a look that said please let us have this. You had taken a shine to Spike. You were nice, but never this understanding with someone. You saw that he wanted to trust and share a connection. You hoped, with you. He just needed a little encouragement. Someone that cared without conditions.

When the cupcakes were finished, as you both sat eating the warm treats straight from the oven Spike had gone quiet. You were starting to worry, but your mood lightened once more when he spoke through a mouthful of cake, “Do you like spending time with me, pet?” he asked, not looking towards you.

“Of course I do!”

“Well then. I think it’s time we teach you how to change your own tire”

“You mean it!?” You cheered, smiling back at him. This was as close to a profession of fondness you would get from him. He had thawed, his temperament softening. But expressing his feelings was still hard. He nodded, offering his hand for you to take. You took it without hesitation and he moved your hand to his lips, kissing once softly. A gesture you would never have expected from him, but it made you melt. You walked towards his shop hand-in-hand, swinging his arm the entire way.

[alastorswifey]

cantarella

vil schoenheit + neige leblanche

female reader

full imagine

angst

note: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED YOUR REQUEST I AM SO SORRY OHMYGOD AND IM SORRY IF THIS ISNT THE REQUEST U WANTED HHHH vil might be out of character here uhhh

play- cantarella: kaito ft. hatsune miku

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

“You thought you could drink this powerful                                                          potion you knew so well”

the ensemble played in a graceful tone. it was a waltz. vil’s right arm was supporting your back as his left was outstretched. your feet matched his and the pace of the music. it was pure bliss. how funny though. you were dancing with your knight. the person who swore on their life to protect you. the party was getting boring, as it always has for you, and you needed a partner for the upcoming dance. 

you and vil had already practiced this multiple times since you were children. the feeling stayed the same for you- but for vil? he was ecstatic. he was finally near you not as a mere knight but as a person. it gave him pure joy. but of course, good things come to an end and you had to switch partners. though, vil expected you to switch with some random noble the random noble he caught a glimpse of before passing you to the mad clad in white and sky blue and his eyes widened. it was neige leblanche. 

vil had already known of the black haired man’s limerence towards you. after all, the look neige gave you was very familiar to the blonde haired man. since he, too, stared at you with those same, loving eyes. a sigh of defeat escaped from vil’s lips. he knows he can’t do anything about it. a woman of high nobility like you? ending up with him? sure vil had high confidence but even he has doubts of his own.

“y/n,” a sweet voice rang through your ears. you didn’t even notice you had to switch partners with vil. you looked up and saw shiny brown orbs and silky black hair. the man before you was breathtaking. “neige...” you spoke. neige laughed softly as you both danced without ever making a single mistake through the lively ballroom. 

“how have you been, y/n?” he asks, getting closer to you. “ah, i have been well. you?” he twirls you around before gripping on your waist and hand softly and pulling you closer to him that you can feel his breath practically fanning your face. you silently gulped at his abrupt action. “good now that i’ve met you here.” although neige’s face was covered half by a white masquerade mask, you could tell that his eyes were shining. 

neige leblanche. the crowned prince of the neighboring kingdom of pomefiore. you already expected to meet him here. the person who ordered you to kill this man has predicted everything correctly. you were known to be very good with expressing your emotions. people have ordered you to kill their target and you have never been caught. not even once. you have never been suspected. how could they suspect the princess of pomefiore to have done such a cruel thing? 

the song ended before you knew it and you walked towards vil to see how he was holding up for the remaining parts of the ball but neige grabbed your hand, “oh, sir leblanche? is something the matter?” neige frowned slightly at your formality. you weren’t formal earlier while the two of you were dancing, so why? he shook off his frown and chuckled for a moment, “ah, you see, i just so happen to travel far just to attend this ball that you had invited me to. so i was wondering if you would give me a room to stay in just for tonight?” 

you bit your lip. no, you didn’t hesitate. it’s just that you weren’t really in a position to grant him a room to stay in. your parents decide that. neige seemed to have read your mind and snapped his gloved fingers, “mm, i see! i already asked your parents but i just needed to see if you would be alright in seeing me tomorrow for breakfast,” he started, “after all, you might be surprised to see me at your breakfast table tomorrow morning.” ah, so that’s how it is.

“oh of course i’m alright with it! i haven’t seen you since grandma’s funeral. i’ve always wanted to catch up with you!” you grabbed his hands and held it tight, indicating how happy you truly were. neige glance up to see vil narrowing his gaze at the black haired prince. all he could do was grin in a mocking manner before kissing your hand and taking his leave. vil was powerless. he couldn’t do anything. he had no authority to force neige out of the kingdom or your heart. he was always second. he hated it. 

you noticed vil looking down and ready to draw his sword but you lowered it and smiled at him, “it’s okay, vil! i know he has good intentions.” vil, even if he wasn’t your knight, couldn’t disagree with you. he has a soft spot for the princess. all the fellow guards knew. “now,” you cleared your throat and intertwined your hands with his gloved ones, “let’s go, okay?” 

morning soon arrived rather quickly. it almost seemed like the ball was just ended a few hours ago. you stretched your arms in bed and yawned a bit before receiving a knock at your door from vil. “princess y/n, neige leblanche is here to see you.” his voice seemed drained of life. it’s like he was defeated from a duel. you panicked and scrambled to get your indoor dress for today. a few moments of no response and vil knocked again, slightly glad you were taking time to reply. looks like sir leblanche has to wait until breakfast. vil thought to himself, smirking at the man who was shorter than him. neige noticed vil’s self-victory and gritted his teeth.

“apologies. if the princess hasn’t woken up yet, tell her i’ll be-”

“i apologize,” you quickly squeak out, slamming the door open. you fiddle with your fingers as neige observes your ghastly attire. the dress has clearly not been ironed as wrinkles were clearly visible. your shoes were mismatched and your socks have not been pulled up properly. you obviously didn’t have the help of a maid. neige stifled his laughter but failed and started chuckling at how you presented yourself. noticing how neige was laughing, your cheeks flushed from embarrassment. “mm, nothing to be embarrassed about y/n. i find it cute,” he whispered before leaning back. 

“going back to the reason of why i am here, i simply ask for your presence at the garden this afternoon,” your cheeks heated up at the thought of simply being with neige at the garden. walking together, possibly holding hands, talking about literally anything, oh how the thought made your heart flutter with excitement. “definitely! i’ll see you there soon, sir leblan-” in one swift movement, neige already has you pinned against the doors, causing vil to step back as he draws his sword, ready to behead the crowned prince. vil carefully watched his movements as neige put a hand under your chin and tilted it up so you would have nothing to stare at but his shining orbs. you almost got yourself mesmerized in them.

“i’m tired of the formalities, princess. just call me neige,” he lets go of you and walks away, leaving you stunned and your heart ready to jump out of your chest. vil immediately rushed next to you and held you in his arms. “princess? princess y/n, are you alright?” he gently shook your figure. you glanced up at your childhood friend who is currently your knight and chuckled, “vil, why do i feel this way whenever he’s near me?”

the invitation from neige to meet him at the garden drew near and you felt excited. you helped the chefs in preparing the snacks and tea that would be served for the both of you. your orbs narrowly glanced at the tea. jasmine, huh? you thought to himself, silently bringing out a vile that contained white powder that looked similar to arsenic. you bought the vile to the teacup and tapped the rim of the vile, allowing some powder to escape from its container.

you walked out the door, surprised to see vil. was he always there? you shook your head, hoping he hadn’t noticed you walking in with the poison. you made sure to keep it hidden in your fists.

“vil, all you have to do is stay by my side! i’ll never abandon you, so you won’t either, right?” 

your child voice echoed in his head. things just had to get complicated. it just had to take a wrong turn. just as it always had with vil.

-

“that knight is absolutely spineless,” neige muttered to himself as he made his way towards the garden where he was supposed to meet you. his eyes landed on your ephemeral figure. it drew him closer. “y/n!” you lifted your head up from your lap and smiled at the man in front of you, “sir lebl- i mean, neige!” you greeted, getting up from your seat to do a curtsey. neige appreciated the gesture as the two of you sat down in front of each other. nothing much has happened except for when the tea was served.

you glanced at the man seated in front of you. you had already taken the teacup that didn’t contain any poison. neige sensed the presence of the loyal knight named vil behind the large hedges of the garden. vil was left in the shadows. what could’ve he done? nothing. he was letting you go without putting up a fight. it sickened him. this wasn’t who he was but he couldn’t help but be that weak, powerless person since he was just a mere knight.

neige takes a sip of the jasmine tea and instantly felt his throat burn. a cough escaped his throat along with a spot of blood that stained his white gloves. your eyes widened. the poison people usually gave you were subtle and killed the victim in an instant. why was neige in pain? why is he suffering? did you acquire the wrong poison? you slowly walked towards neige as he fell on you, his eyes almost lifeless. you orbs widened as he placed an empty vile in your hand and smiled. you immediately realized that was the vile that contained the poison.

he knows.

at this point, you weren’t worried on getting caught. you were worried about his safety. vil stepped out of the bushes and rushed towards the two of you. neige was then brought into the care of the paramedics as the guilt slowly consumed you until you were never able to sleep.

the clashing of swords woke you up in the dead of night. what on earth was causing the ruckus? you walked up to your balcony to see neige and vil having a duel with neige looking injured. rushing outside, you ran towards the garden despite your feet aching without any shoes.

vil raised his sword to swing at neige who was obviously worn out. you stepped in between the two men and expected vil’s sword to have an impact on you but you felt nothing. only the drip of cold liquid on your face. neige’s blood.

neige had prevented the sword from harming you with the help of his hand. the back haired male dropped to his knees as you cradled his tired body in your arms. tears escaping your eyes.

the blonde haired knight’s hands shook violently. what did he do wrong? he almost harmed you. he almost killed you.

“vil, all you have to do is stay by my side! i’ll never abandon you, so you won’t either, right?” your child self grinned brightly, holding his hand. vil only stared at you before bursting out in a fit of laughter. “hah, once i become king, i’ll be the one abandoning you,” he said, cockily. you pouted before punching him. “you’re so full of yourself! bleh, you becoming king would never happen!” you taunted before running away from vil. the blonde was left dumbfounded and doubtful but chased after you, “just watch me! if i become king, i’ll protect you, you know!”

protect you. 

he had failed you.

vil stared at neige clutching his hand and you holding it as he walked away from the scene. he couldn’t face you. before vil could walk away completely, he looked around his shoulder to see neige’s face contort into a mischievous smirk as he hugged you. a finger pressed to his lips. vil’s eyes widened. this...

this was his plan all along.

his plan to force you to poison him. 

his plan to make you his.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

a/n: I KEPT CHANGING THE PLOT OF THIS SHIT IM GOING TO CRY AND PROBABLY DO A REMAKE OF THIS SINCE ITS SO SHITTY AND CONFUSING UHJDSK IM SO SORRY

[3mmafr0st]

Hard to Hate Chapter 14

Fred Weasley x Reader Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: the usual, if you’ve seen the rest of the series you’ll know!

Taglist: @intpeach, @aria-dne, @allthebestmenarefictional, @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic, @weasleytwinswheezes, @a-disappointing-teen-author, @amorist-3, @222moonss, @carmiml0v3, @lilypad-55449, @losers-club6, @hpbitch, @ohwelliguess​, More in the Reblog. Ask me if you want to be added to the tag list!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 15,

Read the Russian translation Here

The next few weeks were tough on me, with the already intense stress of trying to remember all of the work we had been doing before the break, and the drama of what had happened. 

Draco was mad at me, upset for leaving, as well as whatever Pansy had been whispering in his ear throughout the month. He hadn’t talked to me since christmas and I hate to say it but I missed him. Even though he was quite brainwashed and could be a little shit, I loved him, he was like a little brother to me.

On top of that, Pansy and her gaggle of bitches were harrassing me whenever they could. Ever since they found my room, the fear that I struck in most of the Slytherin house had all but dwindled. At least before they moved out of my way, but now they just look down on me and I hated it. It felt worse than being feared.

Finally there was Fred. Funny, endearing, and absolutely beautiful Fred. Ever since he and the other Weasley’s returned to the school, he has been cold, distant. It was as if the last few months had never happened, that we had never become friends in the first place. George was still talking to me though. That was my only saving grace.

George and I had decided on the library to hang out that day. Melody didn’t want to study that day, instead opting to hang out with Lee by the lake on a date of sorts. 

“I honestly have no clue what’s going on with Fred, but I’m worried.” George told me, his voice nervous.

“Has he been the same with you, he won’t even speak to me.”

“He won’t talk to me about anything, but he’s definitely upset about something. This is the first time that he’s never not told me about what’s going on in his head and I don’t like it.”

“Do you think that he’s really upset with me, I don’t know what I could have done.” I was upset to say the least. I missed Fred so much and yet he wouldn’t even give me the time of day. It was agonizing. I liked him so much, maybe even loved, and yet he pushed me away.

George and I stayed and studied for a while, until the time came where we were to go to our next class, Potions, which we all had together. This was going to be difficult to say the least.

When George and I walked into the classroom, Fred was already there, sitting with Angelina Johnson. George was irritated to say the least, and since I knew Melody would be sitting with Lee, I offered him a seat next to me. I glanced at Fred, and he seemed to be even more grumpy than when we had first walked in. Snape began his lecture, his droaning and nasally voice going on and on. I should be paying attention to the work that we were supposed to be doing, on the lecture at hand. Instead, I was glancing at Fred out of the corner of my eye.

Angelina and Fred were sitting together, laughing and whispering together. I felt something, simmering in the pit of my stomach. I had no idea what the feeling was, but it made me want to tear Angelina apart. I didn’t even know why, I like Angelina! She’s nice and witty and good at quidditch, and well, basically everything I was but better. She was the perfect version of me, one with no baggage, no psychotic family members or racist family history. Who wouldn’t pick her? The burning feeling soon turned to sadness, this lump in my throat that only got worse and worse. George looked at me, and saw as tears began to well in my eyes, fighting to keep them from falling, I couldnt let the other students see me like this, it would push me even farther down the chain of respect and I couldnt have that. George raised his hand, and was called on.

“Professor, Y/N’s not feeling good, do you think I could walk her back to her common room.”

Snape thought for a moment, clearly trying to weigh his biases in his head, before allowing it. As quickly as he could, George walked me out of the classroom, trying to get me a good enough distance from the classroom before my legs gave out under me against the wall, tears falling down my face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Tell me.”

“I don’t know, just, Angelina, the two of them, ugh, I feel so pathetic.” I laughed at myself through my tears. “I mean, who would even think I have a chance next to her.” George looked me straight in the eyes, both of us on the floor now, putting his hand on my shoulder to try and reassure me.

“Y/N, if he can’t see that you’re the absolute perfect girl for him, then he’s either blind, or just plain stupid, knowing my brother, its probably a bit of both.” His joke made me laugh, and he handed me a tissue from his pocket. 

“Thanks, I just feel so hopeless, yknow? Like, the two of you, and Mel are the only good things right now, and even that's been ruined.”

“Believe me Y/N, I get it more than you know.” His eyes looked far away, kind of wistful and longing. 

“So who’s the girl?”

“If I say, it's only going to make it worse.” I thought through all of the different clues, before coming to the most logical explanation.

“Its Angelina, isnt it?” I folded my hands in front of my chest giving him a knowing look.

“Yeah,” He said. “Now I know that you think I’m just saying that because I want her all for myself, don’t you?” I silently nodded, tears starting to prick at my eyes again.

“Well, that’s not true, I’m being serious. If he’s not going to man up, then he must be an idiot.” I didn’t believe him in the slightest, but I pretended to. “Come on, let's head to lunch early, I dont think you want the others seeing you like this when they leave.”

The two of us headed to the cafeteria, simply working on homework at our respective tables, until the rest of the students began pouring into the large hall. I saw Melody walk in, sitting down next to me.

“You feeling better?”

“Honestly, Mels, it's not that kinda sick. It’s just, Fred, yknow?” She silently nodded. She knew all of the events that had happened, or lackthereof. Although she knew about it, she wasnt as involved as George, I mean, she had her own things to do and I understood. 

George was sitting close to me, in a way, our backs to eachother, so Mel and Lee could continue their conversation from Potions. I heard heavy, angry footsteps behind me, and I took a peek as to who it was. Fred was angry, but for what reason I couldnt understand. I could hear the conversation from behind me.

“George, can we talk outside for a moment.” His voice was trying to mask his rage.

“Fine” George responded, and Fred walked the two of them outside of the cafeteria. 

I tried to stay out of it, I tried to sit there, and eat and talk to Lee and Mel as if nothing had happened, but after 5 minutes, the curiosity got the better of me. What if Fred was finally saying something as to why he was so distant, ignoring me for so long. It was a miserable experience and I just had to know why. 

I told Melody that I was going to the bathroom, and then ran off, looking for the two boys.

I walked down the hall, searching around for them, when I heard yelling, two voices that I knew so well. I looked around for a moment, before finding a door that I had never seen in this hallway before. I put my ear up to the door. The voices were muffled, but I could sort of make out what the boys were saying.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Fred, am I not allowed to have friends?”

“You and I both know that it's not just friends.”

“I’m not lying, it’s not my fault that you’ve been being an asshole and pushing us away!” The yells were immediately silenced, replaced with the sounds of skin coming in contact with skin, yelps of pain and growls of anger.  

“Alohamora” The lock quickly undid, and I pushed the door open as fast as I could. Fred had wrestled George on the ground, punching him into the floor, as George was trying as hard as possible to gain the upper hand. I quickly wracked my brain for something to separate the two without putting myself at risk before finding the perfect incantation “Relashio!”

The two looked at me, then looked at each other, trying to go at it again, but I quickly cast the Colloshoo hex, sticking both boys’ feet firmly on the ground. 

“You too are unbelievable, you know that? You are brothers for Merlin’s sake, what the hell has gotten into you?” George began to speak but I cut him off, I was too angry to listen. “Fred, you need to check yourself this instant, your behavior in the last month has not been that of a friend. Friends are supposed to be kind to each other, supposed to support each other, talk to each other at the very least! Once you’re ready to explain yourself, I'll be in the astronomy tower. George, if he tries anything like that again, you sure as hell better tell me.” 

“Can you at least let us go?” George asked, as I opened the door of the mystery room.

“It’ll wear off in an hour, you two need to talk through some things.” I shut the door behind me. I was angry, confused, and upset, all of those emotions culminating in the only way that my body could understand, once again tears began to run down my face. Luckily classes had ended early today, because if not, I would have had to go to a History of Magic looking like this mess.  The only thing that I could do was go to the astronomy tower, and hope that Fred had gotten over himself enough to come and talk to me, explain why all of a sudden he was acting like this.

[aprito]

hello <3 since i got these asks at the same time i decided to combine my thoughts on them in this post. yet another annoying sjw essay from yours truly on this blog 

before i get into these i think i need to preface why im like. i guess overly hyperfocused on a certain unproblematic base (same age au / platonic canon) for them and avoid the ped0philic content like the plague lol

tw for pedophilia ment, rape ment if that makes you squicky. ALSO THIS IS LONG AND RAMBLY

as i’ve mentioned a couple times already, ive been into the ship since i was 12, back when it was very very common to not only post untagged (nsfw) canonverse content of the two in writing and in drawing but also non con and the like, so you can imagine how bad my first impression online was. thinking back on it ...as a child i found it disturbing but didnt really register how problematic it really was?? (i know, but i also lived in the middle of nowhere and had no one explain this to me) 

skip to 2014 aka me coming back to naruto at 17ish and i had kinda become hyper aware of the fact that there was an increasing amount of people online who had come forward with explaining how fictional problematic content, mostly pedophilia, had been used to groom them into starting relationships with adullts. it was also a time where a lot of people didnt believe these victims, not registering how common it was for minors to be online friends with adults who had no boundaries and no qualms exposing them such content. not gonna get into my personal life here but i was lucky to not having gone through this myself. like... it kinda was my first time truly realising how fiction can EASILY be used to manipulate others irl (and yes i will not argue this, if you dont think fictional media can form and manipulate people’s opinions on attitudes, countries, cultures and virtues, pick up a book about the effects of propaganda media at least once please) 

i, being young, still liking the dynamic but not really the romance, would point this out here and there in the fandom and get into fights with grown adults in their mid 20s who assumed i automatically hated the ship(s) and tried to restrict their freedom of speech or whatever, heard everything from the “age of consent doesnt exist in naruto” to the “sasori looks like a child what does it matter” despite people clearly playing on him being older and experienced. it made me so upset that people were just consuming all this content uncritically and exposing children to it tbh?? not really just sos but a lot of minor/adult ships in naruto in general. and thats where i sat down and thought, i do not want to be a grown adult talking down to children that point out how unsafe the fandom is. theyre absolutely right in drawing these boundaries and calling out adults who defend the uncritical consumption and creation of this content. i do not want to consume or create content that predators could use to groom minors, and i absolutely do want to let younger people in fandom know that i am respecting their comfort zones and want them to have a safe and fun experience. after all, naruto is not an adult show and i think a lot of people forget that!!!! i am not perfect in that regard but its something that i, at the age of 23, am very passionate about and strive towards to.

and i guess thats where same age au was born for me and i have been sticking to it ever since. 

so finally we can move to the first question 

aside from the fact that we both dont like canon sos, i dont think it would work out even if i wasnt prejudiced to it anyways. in all honesty, 35 year old canon sasori is not a redeemable character to me, given the fact that he’s easily amongst the cruelest villains in naruto (torturing and killing and taxiderming people for his own fun personal gain, never for a goal that served anyone but himself. how do you redeem having over 300 corpses in your backpack that you felt absolutely no remorse for killing). sasori was legit one of the only cruel villains that didnt had someone else pull the strings, which sends a clear message on kishi’s part, who absolutely loves to redeem villains LOL.

being that old, he obviously had already been very manifested in what he believed in, even if it was shakey, to the point where the first crack in that world view (sakura and chiyo protecting each other) immediately had him give up on his life all together. that, in my opinion, is not a man who’s going to know what healthy relationships would look like, regardless of it being romantic or not. 35 year old sasori to me has the same appeal as an expired can of tuna and he’s probably very happy 6 feet under. he’s supposed to be a failed gaara in that sense that he had no one to look out for him and therefore was never going to experience anything but a bad ending in life. its fine that hes dead honestly, it wraps up his short character development the best IMO.

adding to that, seriously, sakura was obviously interested in knowing why he was that way, and called him out for being seriously fucked in the head, but it’s weird to me that people assume she had any interest in actively rehabilitating him, let alone starting a serious romantic relationship with him. sakura who’s not only very, uhm, immature and straight forward when it comes to her romantic viewpoints also, as a big bootlicker, wouldnt soil her standing in the village by starting anything with a disgraced and far too gone criminal like sasori. shipping that version of sasori with sakura intimately is still going to set her up for a huge power imbalance that would be difficult to handle imo, even if she was the one in the fight ultimately exerting her power over him. i would still look at it and think damn she deserves better than having to play therapist for man like that lol.

additionally, even if you ignored all of this, you cant really ignore that sasori had already known her as a child, and that had been his first and most impactful impression of her. i dont think that sasori would look at 35 year old sakura and see her as a grown woman and not the little green girl she was in the fight. plus, you easily fall into predatory comparison territory between the “childish” and “womanly” and i have seen way too often in fic just being boiled down to her now being fuckable. a lot of of ships do this and i would just like to remind yall thats it not normal for adults to want to start relationships with children they have seen grown up or known as a child when they themselves were fully grown adults. therefore, maybe if sakura hadnt met sasori before it would be less of a problem? but that also obviously defeats the point of the dynamic and the reason he died in the first place. so yeah, it sounds kind of doomed especially if you were to make it romantic. 

WHICH BRINGS ME TO THE SECOND QUESTION

let me preface this that im not fundamentally against age gaps, even if im not super interested in it. after all, colorblind had a 5 yr age gap (with sakura being 21), even if, say, i wrote similar fics today i probably would make it smaller lol. i think it can be handled well if both parties have enough life experience to deal with it, and the author is cautious of where the age gap starts, i think a 10+ year age gap would be fine in a scenario where the younger party (i guess sakura) was at least 25-27ish, meaning she has completed most of her most formative life stages and probably had been in relationships before, meaning she would be able to handle it without having to fear a huge power imbalance. the older the younger party is the less the age gap is going to matter tbh .TsukiHoshino and AngelOfDeath10 both handle age gaps in their fics really well imo, so i do not mind reading about them.

unfortunately, a lot of people in this fandom think making sakura barely "”””legal””””” (18, not even 20 which is hilarious to me because the source material is obviously japanese) because they both cannot stand her being past her “prime years” of being young fertile and fuckable to much older men as well as thinking a 20 year old is automatically old enough to handle that type of relationship. ive seen a lot of unironic takes that believe it will absolve them of callout posts if they throw around age of consent and “shes 18 now suckers!!!” enough lmfao. absolutely hilarious. aging a minor up without aging the adult down seriously reeks of predatory “cant wait until youre 18″ narratives and thats why i find it similarly disturbing as straight up pedo shipping.

ultimately, sasosaku is and will always be a inherently problematic ship in canon, which is why i think it should always be handled a little more responsibly in fandom spaces, ignoring or outright excusing the main problem factor, which is sasori, isnt going to convince anyone that the dynamic in itself is well written and interesting enough to explore in aus, like giving sasori the redemption most of us wanted him to have by aging him down to a point in time where he was still realistically going to allow being positively influenced, similar to gaara. 

so really, what i think is well handled age gap and how most people handle age gap in the naruto fandom are two different worlds at times lol 

tl;dr

canon shippers have never been anything but gross when i was younger and i didnt wanna be like that, even if youre “smart”enough to differenate, actual creeps dont really care and might use your content to blur the lines, sasori isnt rly redeemable so romantic canonverse realistically wouldnt make much sense and is still iffy, age gaps are fine if they are handled well, but given that the dynamic doesnt really need the age gap to still work im not that invested on making that an essential part of my shipping experience.  

thank you for reading and hope this makes sense!