#she’s smart enough to know not to push her luck when it comes to their loyalty but neither does she want to completely abandon what

[emcads]

I really need to sleep but can’t stop thinking about esme’s fleet (or lack thereof). venganza’s men have a sense of loyalty to her because they’ve been sailing with her for years, but the other ships that sailed under Don Rafael barely know her, and many of those men mostly know her as the entitled girl who got the title (through family, not democracy, mind you.) under her grandfather it was definitely a proper fleet, and he took a share of their prizes, but under Esmeralda it’s more of a loose confederation. they would show up to fight with her if needed, but they don’t take regular orders from her, and she doesn’t take a share of their prizes. mostly, they provide her with information, though she has a few friends among the captains and officers who will occasionally share the spoils or keep something specific for her out of the takings. if it came to conflict with another pirate lord, though, they’re at her back no question.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— we brought a puppy home | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

monkey brings a puppy home and its' not completely smooth-sailing

check out the rest of buddy & monkey here: the masterlist

credit to @alotofpockets for her help with some of this and @lvnleah for the idea of this fic!

"Le, please!" You beg and plead with the blonde, who is all but firm on her decision much to your own disappointment.

"No, Monkey!" Leah states, sternly.

"Pretty please?" You still continue to try your luck with her.

"No, Monkey. I've already said it before!" Leah tells you in a stern tone of voice, which your all but used to hearing now.

What is it that you're trying to ask for? A puppy.

You love dogs, well you love all animals, other than pesky chickens of course, but your a huge fan of animals and you'd always had a dream of owning a lot of them.

You have always wanted your own dog, but of course growing up your father was always too selfish to want to spend on his money on booze and drugs, so therefor you never got to own your own dog before.

So here you are trying to convince the ever-stern blonde that you live with to get a dog, but that's easier said than done when shes' very much against the idea of it.

That answer still isn't good enough for you as you pout, "But why not? You've seen Myle, she's cute! Why can't we get our own?" You question, you love walking the little pup that Beth and Viv have, so you desperately want your own now.

"Because I've said no already and I'm not going to change my mind!" Leah repeats her words again, shaking her head in disagreement.

"Yeah, but just think about it..." You wonder off from your thoughts, "You know that Buddy would love a puppy as well!" You add, gesturing to your favourite little buddy who has been peacefully watching cartoons until you'd mentioned her name.

You were somewhat smart to play that at your advantage.

"Puppy, mummy!" Buddy pipes in to the conversation.

You smirk at the blonde mischievously, "See? I told you that Buddy would want one as well, Le!"

"Puppy, Mummy," Buddy repeats, excitedly as her eyes light up in awe, "Puppy!"

"Great, see what you've started now?" Leah murmurs, exhaling a sigh.

"You have to admit that a puppy in the house would be so much fun!" There's a glint of mischief in your eyes as you shrug your shoulders.

You knew exactly what you were doin' getting Buddy involved in this.

The blonde shakes her head again, "No, we're not gettin' a dog and that is final. End off!" She states firmly.

You knew that going behind Leah's back and buying a puppy might've been a bad thing that could definitely land you in trouble, however, you were in puppy heaven right now with your new adorable four-legged friend that was finding itself quite at home

"Leeeah!" You shout through the house, pushing it open carefully with your new little friend in your arms, "Are you home?" You continue to shout aloud.

"What's with all the noise?" Leah walks out into the hallway, mildly concerned about the loud volume of noise and thinking something is wrong straight away until she freezes in her step and narrows her eyes, "Monkey, please for the love of god tell me that isn't what I think it is!" She states, firmly.

You grin sheepishly at her, "Well, uh... What's it look like," You try and make a joke out of it.

You knew she would be mad, but you didn't realise she would be this mad.

Oops?

You swear you could see steam coming from the blondes' ears, "It looks like a puppy, although I know I specifically told you last week we was not gettin' one," She states in a sense of annoyance, "Please tell me that is one you're looking after!"

"Nope, hes' ours!" You beam a wide grin and hold the little guy out to her, "Isn't he cute?" You ask without much care in the world.

"Did my words literally just go in one ear and out of the other?" Leah is in disbelief as she all but refuses to even pet your new four-legged friend.

You continue to grin sheepishly at the blonde, "Uh, sorta. Maybe?" You admit, biting your bottom lip, "Le, meet Tate! Short for Tater-Tot!" You introduce the small pup.

"I... I thought you knew about this," Jordan stammers, her eyes widen in realisation before she looks at you, "Monkey, you told me she knew about this!" She states.

"What? No I didn't know!" Leah states, shaking her head profusely.

"Okay, so maybe I might've bent the truth ever so slightly," You confess, wincing as you await either of their reactions.

"Monkey!" Jordan exclaims in disbelief.

Leah huffs and shakes her head again in disbelief, "I cannot believe you went behind my back about this, Monkey. We're not keepin' it!" She tells you, firmly.

"He has a name, Le!" You pout, gesturing to look at the pup.

"I don't care what his name is, we're not keepin' him!" Leah grumbles.

You frown and fuss the small pup in her arms, "Awh, don't worry little guy. Les' grumpy an all now but she'll come around in no time to love you!" You coo at him, hoping to lighten the mood.

"I don't think so-- How did you even afford to buy him?" Leah questions in confusion, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Money, duh? I saved up!" You admit, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

The blonde clicks her tongue in disapproval, "Unbelievable, absolutely unbelievable!"

"I... I would never have gone along with this and if I knew you didn't agree with it, Le," Jordan explains to her ex-girlfriend.

"Yeah... I know," Leah murmurs in response, "Monkey has a way of convincing people to get her way sometimes." She adds.

Jordan nods slowly and takes a click glance at the time on her phone, "Right, it's almost time to collect Buddy from pre-school-- Do you want me to go and pick her up instead so you can uh, sort out the issues with the puppy and what not?" She offers, your guess is that she is trying to leave the conversation as quick as she can.

"Yes, please. If you don't mind," Leah replies in agreement.

"Wait, no, Jord-- Don't leave me alone with her, she might kill me!" Your eyes widen in realisation.

The minute Jordan leaves, your really gonna be in trouble.

"Good luck, Monkey!" Jordan chuckles, waving her hand in the air as she heads back outside.

"Jord, no, wait, come back..." Your plea falls of deaf ears as you spin back round and take in the angry and annoyed expression that Leah has on her face, "Okay listen, I know you're mad an all about it now, but come on. You have to admit he is kinda cute though!" You insist, trying to hold Tater-Tot up in front of her to try and get her more approachable.

Leah scoffs and shakes her head, "Cute or not, he's goin' back to wherever it is that he came from!" She states, determinedly.

"Sh, Le, he can hear you!" You joke as an attempt to keep the conversation light still, despite how angry the blonde looks with you.

"You completely went against my words-- I told you under no circumstances, were we getting a dog!" Leah exclaims, pointing her finger in your face as she raises her voice, sounding like when she's in captain mode.

"Eh, I know but I thought maybe when you see how cute he is then you might change your mind, no?" You still hold up Tater-Tot in front of her face to get her to ease her sternness.

There's no luck whatsoever.

"No. Seriously, Monkey? I don't have time to take care of a dog and you sure as hell don't either-- Explain to me how an earth you expect to take care of a dog between training, games and not to mention your uni work!" The blonde still continues to stand firm on her decision

"Well, we can make it work! He can be like your emotional support dog!" You try and insist, hopeful to play your cards right with this one.

Leah is soon stumped from her on-going rant, "My what?"

"Emotional support dog," You repeat boldly with confidence, "Like Win at the club but this dog we can actually take home instead! Come on, look how adorable he is. I know things haven't been great with your injury and stuff, but like, Tater-Tot can help that now to cheer you up!" You try and make your point justified, trying to keep Tater-Tot held comfortably in your arms the whole time.

"Let me get this right," Leah pinches the bridge of her nose and chuckles slightly, "Your using my injury as an excuse for us to have a dog?" She questions.

You slowly nod in agreement with her, "Well, uh... Yeah, kinda-- Look, I know you're all mad and stuff now, but give in a few weeks and you'll learn to love Tater-Tot, yeah?" You try and suppress the grin on her face, but to no avail, it doesn't work.

"No, because we're not keeping him, Monkey!" Leah exclaims in disagreement.

You huff and pout at the blonde's words, "I can't take him back though when I've already paid for him!" You insist.

"Then get your money back, I don't care. We're not keeping him!" Leah states, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Come on, Le. Please?" You plead with her.

"Absolutely not, no way!" Leah continues to remain firm on her decision, "I already told you previously, no dog!"

"Seriously, Le? I can't... I don't want to take him back!" You pout at the blonde, in a hope that she will change her mind.

"Too bad. I'm sorry Monkey, but we can't keep him. He has to go back, alright? I'm not changing my mind on this one!" The blonde tells you, firmly as she shakes her head and refuses to give Tater-Tot another look.

"Hi, we're back!" Jordan shouts aloud as she pries open the front door and hesitates to walk inside in case you and Leah are still arguing about the puppy.

"Mummy!" Buddy all but throws herself at Leah's legs as soon as she sees her.

Leah smiles fondly at her little girl, "Hi, Buddy. Did you have fun at pre-school?" She wonders.

"Uh huh, lots' of fun!" Buddy nods enthusiastically.

Jordan hums in agreement and routes around in the 3 year old's backpack that she has in her hands, "Yeah, shes' drawn you a picture for you."

"You have?" Leah questions in faux surprise as Jordan hands over Buddy's latest masterpiece to her, "Wow. I absolutely love it! That is going right on the fridge!" She states determinedly, wrapping her free arm around the 3 year old.

Jordan smiles fondly at the pair of them, "Hows' things with the, you know what?" She wonders, curiously as Buddy pulls away from Leah after a few seconds.

Leah scoffs and shakes her head, "I can't believe she went behind my back about this," Unbeknownst to her, Buddy had decided to wander into the living room and find the new four-legged friend in the house, "I don't want Buddy to see it, because then I know I will--"

"Puppy!" Buddy gasps in excitement, her eyes wide in awe.

"Too late for that," Jordan chuckles.

"Puppy, Mummy!" Buddy repeats, excitedly.

Of course you are so excited to introduce them both, "His names' Tater-Tot, Buddy. How cool is that?" You ask her.

"Cool!" Buddy parrots, crouching down to lie on the floor next to the pup.

Leah exhales a sigh and walks into the living room, "Yeah it is, Bud. You have to be careful, okay? He's very tiny," She explains to the little girl.

"You have to admit that he seems very settled," Jordan chimes in.

Buddy peers up to look at Leah curiously, "Is he ours?" 

"Yes," Your quick to state.

"No," Leah disagrees, glaring at you.

"I wan' him Mummy!" Buddy insists, cuddling up to the four legged animal.

"See? Even Buddy wants him!" You gesture to your favourite little buddy and the pup together.

Leah glares at you, which kindly meant for you to shut up, "Enough, Monkey!" She states, firmly.

Buddy continues to gently cuddle with the puppy beside her, "I 'ove him, Mummy! Can we please keep him?" She questions, hopeful.

You feel like your hearts melting watching the adorableness from them both, "Come on, Le. Look at Buddy's face-- Please?" You beg and plead.

"You know, if you do decide to keep him and all then I can watch him when you're away and I'm sure that your mum wouldn't mind helping out to watch him either..." Jordan chips in, but knows when to shut up after she receives an all-too familiar glare thrown her way, "Yeah, alright, gotcha. I'll stop talkin' about this."

"No, no, I'm sorry. I don't have time to look after a dog, I already have 2 kids to look after," Leah states, shaking her head in disagreement.

"Hey! I'm an adult," You shout aloud in protest.

Leah scoffs and shakes her head, "You still order happy meals at McDonald's just so you can have the toys, you really wanna go there?" She questions.

"They currently have Minions, don't judge me!" You exclaim, shrugging your shoulders.

"Right, so what do you want to do?" Jordan shares a look with her ex-girlfriend, "I have to get on the road soon, but uh, I can hang around for a bit if you need help or what not?" She offers her help, not too sure what to do in this situation.

Leah exhales a sigh and shakes her head, "No, no, don't worry. You head back home. It's fine, we'll take him back tomorrow." She tells her ex.

"No I don' want him to go Mummy!" Buddy whines in protest.

Leah frowns slightly as she looks at Buddy, "I'm sorry Buddy but we can't have a doggie here, but its' okay because you can still see Myle, can't you?" She explains to your favourite little buddy, "And Blu as well at Mama's house." She adds.

"No, no. I don' like you, Mummy!" Buddy is quick to shout aloud, "No, mean Mummy!" She continues to shout.

Leah's heart clenches when she hears them words spill out of her little girls mouth, however, Jordan is able to get a quick handle on it.

"Hey, no, no, that's not nice is it, Buddy?" Jordan tells the 3 year old in a gentle tone of voice, "You don't mean that, you love Mummy, don't you?"

Buddy is more adamant as she shakes her head,"No, no. I don', she mean!" She exclaims, starting to tear up.

"Buddy, I know you're upset but its' not nice to say them sort of things," Jordan tells her little girl.

"Mummy's a meanie!" Buddy continues to cry, not really understanding the true hurt behind her words directed at Leah, "She won' let us keep the puppy! Mean Mummy!"

"Buddy, listen. I know you're upset with mummy about this and that's okay, but when you say words like that, they hurt mummy," Leah kneels in front of her daughter, she knew not to take the words to heart but it was a slight shock to the system to hear this come from the usual little sweetheart and well-behaved little girl that she is, "I know you want to keep the puppy, but it's just not possible, okay? I'm sorry about that."

"Monkey! That will be Wally!" Leah calls out to get your attention from where she is upstairs with Buddy, "Can you get the door?" She shouts aloud.

"Sure, cos' its' not like I weren't busy doin' something else or anything," You huff and pause the current game on your PlayStation before you wander over to the front door and open it to greet the older women, "Hi, Wally!" You greet, somewhat enthusiastically.

"Hey little one, how're you doin'?" Lia gives you a brief hug before she steps inside the house.

"I'm fine," You respond, giving her a faint smile, "Le's upstairs with Buddy so she made me get the door instead!" You explain to her.

"Ah, it's bath time," Lia jokes, hearing the commotion coming from upstairs.

"I'll be downstairs in a minute, Wally!" Leah shouts from upstairs, where she is no doubt being covered in water from Buddy having the time of a her splashing about in the bath.

Well it's better than the tears earlier on that Leah and Jordan both had to work together to calm her down before she got herself completely worked up about it.

"No problem," Lia shouts back upstairs before she turns to look at you, "So, I've brought some things round to make us dinner, I thought I could introduce you to one of the famous dishes in Switzerland." She offers, motioning to the dish in her hands that your yet to notice.

"Fancy," You murmur, wrinkling your nose slightly in disgust as you glance into the pot and don't like what you see at all.

You wish you had already eaten dinner earlier with Buddy, after all.

There's the always an option to order pizza if you get too hungry though-- Oh wait, you spent all your allowance on Tater-Tot.

Damn it.

"Oh my Goodness, who's this little guy?" Your thrown out of your thoughts when you hear Lia gush in awe and set her eyes on your new four-legged friend that had made his way into the kitchen.

"Tater-Tot," You grin as you scoop the fur ball up into your arms, "I brought him."

Lia looks surprised as she leans forwards and pets' Tater-Tots' soft fur, "I didn't know you guys were gettin' a dog, Leah never mentioned it-- Oh you're adorable, aren't you, little guy?" She gushes in awe, falling absolutely smitten for the little guy.

"That's because I didn't know," Leah responds, making her appearance known as she walks into the kitchen not long with Buddy trailing after her, dressed ready for bed in fresh pajamas.

"Auntie Wally!" Buddy squeals in excitement to see the women.

"Hi, Buddy!" Lia smiles and scoops up the 3 year old into her arms, "Oh, I see... And I take it that you're not too happy about it then?" She wonders, looking at her blonde friend.

"Well I can't say I'm too fond about it," Leah explains, shaking her head as she looks at you with a knowing look, "Monkey tricked Jord into getting it so Jord was under the impression that I knew. Apparently, she played us both, didn't you, Menace?" She wonders.

"Well, it worked didn't it?" You respond, shrugging your shoulders.

"Oh dear," Lia pulls a face.

"Look, auntie Wally, puppy!" Buddy is quick to jump in the conversation and shift the attention to your new four-legged-animal.

"I can see that, Buddy," Lia smiles at her, "He's very cute, isn't he?" She asks.

"Uh huh! So cute!" Your favourite little Buddy agrees, nodding her head in a fast motion.

You can't help but scoff in annoyance, "Yeah and meanie Malfoy is makin' me return him tomorrow! I mean its' cruel, right? Look at his little face!" You insist, pouting as you hold Tater-Tot up in front of Leahs' face to try and get her to cave in.

Leah shakes her head in disagreement, "It's not cruel when I told you we wasn't getting a dog in the first place!" She states, firmly.

"He is very cute, but I suppose Leah is right to say that when she told you no to the dog in the first place, no?" Lia can understand where her friend is coming from and tries to be the peace-keeper in the middle of things.

"It's totally unfair though!" You huff in annoyance before you do no more than start to stomp off upstairs to your bedroom with Tater-Tot in your arms still, showing how completely mature you are taking this situation.

"Wait for me, I got little legs-- Down please!" Buddy whines, starting to wriggle in the woman's arms, "I wan' go find 'Tater-Tot!" She insists.

"Go ahead little one," Lia chuckles and places Buddy down on the floor, who wastes no time in catching up to you and Tater-Tot before you help her climb up the stairs.

"Leave her to sulk about it," Leah tuts and shakes her head, watching carefully as Buddy climbs up the stairs with her help, "I'm not changing my mind on this. We're not keeping that dog." She states, firmly as she sticks her ground.

"Okay," Lia chuckles, agreeing with her friend.

"We're not, tomorrow morning, hes' going back to wherever it is that he came from," Leah tells the older woman.

"Okay," Lia repeats as she gets on with the cooking.

"You think I'm gonna change my mind, don't you?" Leah raises her eyebrow, curious to know her friends thoughts.

"I mean, would it really hurt to have the company round here?" Lia glances at the blonde as she makes her way round the kitchen and grabs a chopping board of the side, "It already looks like Buddy and Monkey both love him a lot, it looks like they're inseparable."

"We're never in, it wouldn't be fair on him, would it?" Leah states, shaking her head in disagreement.

"When would that be a problem? You can take him to the training grounds, there's ways around these things," Lia points out.

"Oh, and what about international camps?" Leah questions, passing Lia a kitchen knife that she needs, "Or pre-seasons in another country?" She wonders.

Lia gratefully accepts the knife and gives the blonde a knowing smile, "I'm sure your mum wouldn't mind looking after him if you asked her." She answers.

"It's not happening, we're not keeping the dog," Leah stands firm once again, repeating her words.

"Looks like the living room is safe from the puppy," Lia jokes, walking into the spacious living room to find the small pup fast asleep on the rug.

It's a bit later on in the evening, Buddy is upstairs fast asleep in bed and you are just in a general teenage sulk still about things upstairs, but somehow the small pup was able to climb off the bed and make his way down the stairs.

"He's spark out," Leah murmurs, letting out a small laugh, "Don't get too comfortable here, Buddy. Its' just for tonight and then tomorrow, you're goin' back to your old home." She states, determinedly.

Lia chuckles and shakes her head before she settles down on the sofa beside the blonde, "Sure you won't change your mind?" She jokes, giving her a knowing smirk.

Leah huffs and shakes her head, "Nope, I'm still not changing my mind. We're not keeping him," She states, reaching for the TV remote that's on the coffee table in front of her, "I'm not." She repeats.

"Okay," Lia chuckles, holding her hands up in mock surrender.

"I'm not," Leah repeats, not sure who she's trying to convince more, herself or her friend, "It's just not a practical situation, is it?" She adds.

"Okay," Lia repeats, trying to stifle her laughter, "What're we watchin' then?" She wonders.

"I don't know, anythin' will do though, won't it?" Leah answers, scrolling through the various channels, "I'll take anythin' other than another Shrek movie or Blues Clues, right now." She jokes, giving a subtle nod to your favourite movie and Buddys' favourite TV show.

"True," Lia chuckles in agreement.

Leah can't help but glance at the new four-legged-friend asleep on the rug in front of them.

It wouldn't practical to have a dog when she has her career, but at the same time, it might be good to have a distraction

Her opinion is even more swayed when the little pup yawns and wakes up, whining slightly as he makes his way over to the sofa and sits waiting to be picked up.

"Looks like he wants to make friends with you, eh?" Lia motions to the small pup, who is sat in front of the sofa as he whines quietly.

"Maybe hes' hungry?" Leah wonders, confused.

"No, hes' already been fed," Lia reminds her, motioning to the bowl of food that you had fed him before going back upstairs to sulk. Doing no more, she leans down and picks Tater-Tot up off the floor, "Hello little guy, are you feeling jealous down there on the floor, huh?" She speaks softly to the little pup.

The pup did no more than paw his way over to Leah and make himself comfortable on her lap, settling down and falling back to sleep.

"Seriously?" Leah groans, glancing down at the puppy.

"Oh, would you look at that. I think he likes you," Lia jokes, smiling at her friend.

"Well that's just great," Leah huffs and shakes her head.

"Don't be such a meany, hes' comfortable, clearly!" Lia chuckles, stroking the pups' fur.

Leah hums quietly, "Just as long as he doesn't eat any of my shoes tonight, we'll stay friends," The blonde remarks, pursing her lips as she reluctantly strokes the pups' fur.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," Lia chuckles in amusement.

"I suppose he is pretty cute," Leah breaks the silence after a few minutes, "And I guess he does seem pretty content on my lap." She adds.

Lia hums in agreement, "Happiest little guy in the world."

"And you have to admit that he does seem to fit in around here, and the kids' do seem happier with him around," Leah continues to state, biting her bottom lip.

"That they do," Lia nods in agreement.

"Yeah," Leah pauses for a few minutes, "But I refuse to call him that ridiculous name though."

"Oh?" Lia glances at her friend with a knowing look, "That sounds like something you would say if you are planning to keep him around," She states.

"I guess we could make it work," Leah states quietly, refusing to look at her friend, who's smirking to herself, "Like you said, we can make it work with the games and I'm sure that family and friends would be more than willing to take care of him if and when needed, huh?" She wonders.

"If I didn't know any better then I'd say it sounds like you had a change of heart there," Lia states amusedly, "Leah Williamson, are you having second thoughts?" She mocks a fake gasp.

"Shut up," Leah playfully nudges her best friend and rolls her eyes, "He's cute, I suppose... And maybe I was a bit too quick to jump and disagree, also this way it'll give Monkey some responsibility as well," She notes.

"You don't need to give them excuses to me. You can just admit that you like having him stick around, you know?" The older woman jokes with the blonde.

"Just as long as there's an agreement that he stays away from anything of mine that is, well, expensive," Leah chuckles, stroking Tater-Tot.

Lia laughs and shakes her head, "I'm sure it will be fine."

"And I'm still not happy that Monkey went behind my back and did this, the little menace," The blonde remarks, reminding the Swiss women about it.

"I know, so much not for changing your mind then, eh?" Lia nudges her friend playfully.

"This dog seems to like me," Leah remarks, shrugging her shoulders as she takes a quick glance down at the pup in her lap.

"I'd say you've found yourself a new best friend there," Lia chuckles, watching Leah and Tater-Tot beside her.

Given another hour or so, you had reluctantly given up your sulking and now you felt hungry again, given that you willingly skipped out on Lia's Switzerland dish, much to your absolute dismay.

"I'm hungry," You make your presence known as you wander into the living room, the small pup on the blondes' lap not even blinking an eye at you.

Leah turns her attention to you hovering in the living room doorway, "Oh, finally decided to come out of your room, have we?" She wonders, teasingly.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and slump down on the arm of sofa, "I was annoyed with you," You mumble, quietly.

Leah snorts in response, "I never would have guessed that."

"Yeah, well, you deserve it," You continue to insist, shrugging your shoulders.

"Right, okay then,"Leah rolls her eyes and shakes her head, "We'll need to go shopping tomorrow then," She adds, trying to not give it away so easily.

"Food shopping, sounds like an absolute blast," You absolutely detest food shopping, its' the complete bane of your life.

Leah snickers a bit, "Well, we do need to re-stock the cupboards but we'll also need to visit the pet shop," She states, waiting for you to catch on.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, "Why do we need to a visit the pet shop-- Wait, are you serious?!" You finally realise as your eyes widen.

"On the terms and conditions--" Leah begins to speak.

"Seriously?! Yeah?" Your way too hyper and excited about this to care what she is saying as it goes in one ear and out the other.

"Hey, listen, this is serious! On the terms and conditions," Leah repeats aloud to get your attention, "On the terms and conditions that you look after him, remember to feed him and give him water, and also walk him as well, and the big one, make sure that he doesn't ruin anything that belongs to me!" She states, sternly as she points her finger in your direction.

"Okay," You nod, awaiting anything further.

"But to answer your question, yes, you can keep him!" Leah tells you, smiling at you.

Your eyes light up in glee and you want to scream, and you would if it wasn't for Buddy being fast asleep upstairs, "Yeah? You're the best, thank you, thank you, thank you! I didn't mean it about calling you meanie Malfoy, ah thank you, thank you!" You can't help but thank her over and over again.

"I'm still not happy with how you went behind my back about this, but I suppose that this little fella will fit in nicely around here," Leah remarks, glancing at the small pup, who surprisingly still hasn't moved from her lap even with all the noise.

You can't help but beam a wide smile, "I knew you would change your mind eventually!"

"What can I say? This little fella wormed his way into my heart," Leah states, shrugging her shoulders.

"Welcome home, Tater-Tot!" You grin at the small pup, whos' comfy enough to still curl up in the blondes' lap and snooze away.

"God, no. Absolutely not, I refuse to call him that ridiculous name!" Leah is quick to insist as she shakes her head for her clear detest of the name, "Welcome home... Tate," She corrects herself, still weary about the name overall.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (7) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: snow is pushing his luck with you, but you will not let his attempted slights go by. 

word count: 3,004

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: breaking wedding superstitions, you and snow get in an argument, jealous!coryo, pet name (petal), not proofread

“Oh, you actually look like a bride!” your mother exclaimed as Tigris led you into the sitting room.

“She has always looked like my bride,” Snow said.

When you received word that Tigris had finished making your wedding gown and was ready to start the fitting process, Snow had insisted that it be done at the palace. Another form of control over you, you were sure. 

Tigris, who was helping you gather the skirts, reached over and squeezed your hand, careful not to let Snow see. You did not know what had caused Tigris’s and Snow’s relationship to become so strained. You remembered, at the Academy, that Snow and Tigris were quite close. At least, as close as Snow would ever allow a person to be to him. He was very good at keeping people at arm’s length. The only person that he truly wanted in his inner circle, it seemed, was you. 

“Is there not some saying about it being bad luck for a groom to see the bridge in her gown before the wedding day?”

Of course, you were fine with a healthy smidge of bad luck. This entire ordeal was doused in it. But it also annoyed Snow any time you tried to deny him something, and that was joy enough for you. 

“I won’t come to the final fitting,” Snow said. 

“I don’t think you understand how luck works.”

Snow hummed. He rose from his seat on the sofa and crossed over to you. When he reached for your hand, you allowed him to take it. Tigris took a few quick steps away from you. He lifted your joined hands above your head, and you began to twirl. He hummed again.

“I do not need luck when I have a bride as beautiful as you,” he said. To Tigris, he said, “You have outdone yourself this time.”

“Thank you, Coriolanus,” Tigris said. 

Snow’s lips curved up into a smirk. “Hmm, see how easy it is? Calling someone by their name?”

“Tigris is your cousin. She is family. It is not inappropriate for her to call you by your name.” You looked back at Tigris. Guilt settled in the pit of your stomach for placing her in the middle of this dispute, but Snow started it. You were smart enough to finish it. “You are an incredibly impatient man, Snow. We are weeks away from the wedding. Are you truly that restless for me to say your name that you cannot wait that long? My, it’s a wonder anyone thought you were disciplined enough to be King.”

Tigris tugged on your skirt, trying to urge you to be silent. You wondered if she had seen Snow when his anger was at its worst. Was that why they were no longer close? Because she had looked into the beast’s eyes and was terrified by what she saw? Perhaps you would be better off holding your tongue. Yet, a part of you liked this challenge. You enjoyed discovering new buttons you could push. 

But Snow only laughed, and that alone was infuriating. He looked at his cousin and remarked, “She always keeps me on my toes.”

Tigris’s lips stretched into a thin smile. “Well, I suppose someone must keep you in line.”

“Of which, she is an expert.”

What a terrible expert you must be then. Had you ever kept Snow in line? You had certainly told him off before, made certain he knew how little you wanted this kind of life. But to keep him in line? The thought was laughable. The man was King. The only way he could lose his power was to something so particularly heinous the Electors would be forced to remove him, or if he died. 

Snow reached for your dress, his thumb running over the embroidered designs. His smirk slowly became a smile as he traced one of the roses. “Do you think you could add more of these?” he asked Tigris.

“Of course. I’ll go draw up some more designs,” Tigris said. 

“Can I take this off now?” you asked. At Snow’s nodding, you turned, Tigris gathering up your skirts so that it would not drag across the floor.

You and Tigris quickly reached the room where she had been helping you dress. It was not far from the drawing room. Irritation had been bubbling up inside you the entire short walk. It drove you insane how much control Snow had over you now. How was this fair? Why did you have to be a little puppet that Snow could pull the strings on? 

“He drives me mad,” you said. Perhaps you shouldn’t admit that to his cousin, one of his only family members, but if there was anyone who could understand, you figured it would be Tigris. 

“Coriolanus is a maddening sort of person,” Tigris admitted, shutting the door behind you once inside the room. 

You could not stop yourself. If you could not understand Snow himself, you might gain some insight from his cousin. “Is that why you are no longer close?”

Tigris looked up at you, her pale eyes turning sad. “He changed. After he came back from his time with the Peacekeepers, I mean. Before, I was hopeful for the kind of man he could become. We…We had hard lives before all of this. Coriolanus would never let anyone know, of course. Too prideful. Too sure that he would get us out of ruin. He was successful in the end, but I think he lost a part of himself.”

Your brows pinched together. “Do you know what happened?”

Tigris shrugged. “No one does. He keeps that part of his life close to his chest. All I know is, when I saw him upon his return, he did not look like little Coryo anymore. He looked like his father.”

You had heard stories of Crassus Snow. He was once a friend of your fathers in their youth, but grown distant as Crassus became colder. It probably had something to do with the peasant uprisings. From your understanding, Crassus was as prideful as Snow. Perhaps more. When he was able to enlist, he quickly rose through the ranks until he was a general. He had the power of the army clenched in his fist. He might have won the war singlehandedly had he not been caught in a rebel trap. 

“But…” Tigris paused. She shook her head. “Never mind.”

Well, that just couldn’t do. Tigris couldn’t just begin to put the pieces of Snow’s personality, his motivations, for you, and yank away one of the final pieces. 

You reached for her hand. You gave it a gentle squeeze. “Please, tell me. I am going to marry him soon. Do I not deserve to know what I’m getting into?”

“Coriolanus is different now.”

“How do you mean?”

“He’s…kinder with you,” Tigris said as she skillfully undid the fastenings to your gown. 

You stifled a snort. “That hardly means anything. A lion might let a gazelle run free, but that does not mean he is any less a beast.”

“You think I’m a beast?”

You fought the urge to jump. One might think you should have become accustomed to Snow’s sudden appearances. Yet, he always managed to catch you off guard. Instead of revealing your shock, you turned your head to where Snow stood in the now opened doorway. “Only a beast would interrupt an unmarried woman as she is undressing.”

Tigris grabbed your hands, pulling you behind the dressing screen. You maintained eye contact with Snow the entire way, careful to make sure he wouldn’t try to follow you. He already kissed you before the wedding. Who was to say he wouldn’t do something more heinous? Snow was very insistent that he could do with you as he pleased. 

“Does it matter if you are unmarried when I am going to marry you regardless?”

You decided to not deign his question a response. How many times had you had this conversation with him? Telling him to be respectful of societal expectations, him deciding he knew best. Oh, was this what your life would him would be like? Would he ever give you peace? Maybe if you gave him a few children…Though, you supposed, Snow would want more than a few. He seemed the sort of man that desired a dynasty. A legacy that would be firmly cemented. That could only be done if you played your part to the letter. And if you didn’t…

“Why are you here? Besides to be a Peeping Tom.”

You heard Snow chuckle. “Clever little thing, aren’t you? I came to ask if you would accompany me to the opera tomorrow evening.”

“Quite a late invitation, don’t you think? Perhaps I have a date with a suitor.”

Tigris’s head jerked up as she helped you step out of the wedding gown. She shook her head. Well, too late now.

“You would not.” Oh, you could hear the poison leeching into his tone. This was fun. (At least, for now. You imagined he would make you regret this impropriety later.) 

“You seem so convinced that I am going to leave you for Sejanus. Perhaps I have decided to actually give you a reason to be upset.” Tigris helped you into the gown you wore to the palace, trying to put it on you as quickly as possible. You really needed to wait to pick these fights until you were alone. You hated to make her collateral. “It is not very becoming, you know, to be so jealous.”

When you turned to step out from behind the privacy screen, you jumped. Snow was already standing there, his face an amusing shade of red. His usually pale blue eyes were much, much darker. You weren’t sure you could see any blue at all. 

“Take it back.”

“You know what the truth is, Snow. Why should I have to keep repeating it? I am your fiancé. We are going to be married by the end of the month. I have promised you to be on my best behavior. That would include, I assume, not leaving you for another. And yet…The simplest of teasing turns you into a mad man. It was all in jest. A joke about a last minute invitation.”

“It was last minute because I was arranging for a private performance for ourselves and our loved ones.”

You blinked. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Well, you hadn’t expected that. 

“I beg your pardon?”

Snow did not look away from you, never breaking eye contact. He stepped closer. You could feel his breath. Somewhere behind you, you could hear Tigris shuffling around. “You still enjoy the opera, don’t you?”

“How did you know I—?” You shook your head. That was not important at the moment. “Yes. I do, very much so. I…Thank you. That is uncharacteristically kind of you.”

Snow snorted, looking away for a moment as if to collect himself. But when he turned his gaze on you again, his eyes were softer. Back to their usual pale blue. “You cannot even compliment me without an insult.”

“It is so easy to insult you. It is fun to see what will burrow the furthest under your skin.”

He hummed. “For now, let us move on to lighter conversations. Who would you like to invite? So that I may invitations sent out before it is too late for anyone to accept.”

“If the King sends an invitation, anyone would accept.”

“And so too shall the Queen,” Snow said. A fond smile crossed his face. He reached for your hand. His thumb stroked it, in a way that was if your hand brought him comfort. “Who should you like to be there?”

You thought for a moment, considering your options. “My parents, which goes without saying. I have a few cousins that would like to come. The Dovecotes, the Cardews.” You spoke the next name quickly, hoping to hide it in your rush. “The Plinths, naturally. I think we should invite the Ravinstills, as a gesture of good faith. To show the former family mingling with the current.” You hoped that that line would delay Snow’s realization of who you slid into the list of invites. “I don’t want the Creeds there.”

Alas, your efforts were not successful. 

“The Creeds will not be there if you do not wish it. Everyone but the Plinth family, however, will be extended invitations.”

“The Plinths will be there. You said I could invite my loved ones.”

“Our loved ones, petal. I said our loved ones. And, let me make this clear, I bear no love for the Plinths at this time.”

“Because of Sejanus?” you asked. 

Snow’s jaw ticked. “It does not matter why. I shall not send them any invitation.”

“Then I shall send one myself. I shall personally invite them, and I shall ensure that Sejanus is allowed to sit right next to us. If you are doing this as a proclamation of love, then you should not try to hurt me by excluding someone I care about.”

“And you try to hurt me by including someone who is trying to take you?”

“She is not a prize for you to win, Coriolanus,” Tigris snapped. 

You had forgotten she was there. Why was she still there? Anyone else would have run for the hills the second a lover’s quarrel with the King broke out. Of course, she was his cousin. She grew up with him. Tigris probably knew more about Snow’s temper tantrum and their fallout than anyone. Perhaps you should take her presence as a blessing. Perhaps you should worry about what that might mean.

Snow squinted his eyes at Tigris. “Because I have won her. I am only ensuring that no one tries to steal her out from under me.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed with a roll of your eyes. 

His attention snapped back to you. “I will ask you kindly, just this once, to please exclude the Plinth family from your list of invitees. If it means so much to you, I will allow his parents to be invited. Just not him.” He paused. “Please.” It almost sounded like it pained him to utter the word. 

“If you do not invite Sejanus, I will,” you repeated. 

Snow’s eyes flashed. You were pushing too hard. Probably. But you could not find it in you to care. Snow was already getting everything he wanted. Was it necessary for him to rip every comfort you had away from you?

“Sejanus will not be invited to sit with us,” Snow hissed. “You cannot manipulate me as you did your mother.”

Did Snow really think that you would bend to his will so easily? Had he learned nothing from all of your spats in school? From how often you went toe-to-toe with him the last several weeks? You knew Snow was not an idiot. Far from it, in fact. He was easily the top student at the Academy, clearing over the children of Panem’s best and brightest with seeming ease. The only person who stood behind him was you. Snow should understand that this was not going to be something you back down from. 

And to bring your mother into this? You were not sure what she told him. It would have been about your engagement ball, of course. That was the only time you attempted to change who your mother believed she could invite to the ball. But you were sure that whatever she told him only further cemented the idea in his deluded mind that you were helplessly in love with Sejanus Plinth.

“He will! Coriolanus Snow, I will not allow you to slight our friend like this. He might be interested in me. And I might have considered a marriage with him if you were not here and my parents allowed it. And I might have fallen in love with him if we did wed. But you are, and it is insulting that you think so little of me—”

“I do not think little of you,” he interrupted. You nearly rolled your eyes. 

“—then, that you are so insecure that you cannot pull your head out of your ass long enough to realize that I will not do anything to harm this relationship, however much of a sham it is, for something that might work out even less than this. My Mama told me you want my loyalty. Well, this is as close as you will ever get to that. Do you understand? I know you value your reputation, and mine, and I know you care about how you, we, are perceived. I may not bend to your every will, but I will not do anything that would reflect poorly on the Crown.”

“I want more than your loyalty.”

“This is all you will get it, and you should be grateful. I could make this a lot more difficult. I could live everything moment to ruin your life. But I am not stupid. I know the security that comes with a title and money. I am grateful that I will want for nothing if I all do is act a dutiful wife. You should be equally grateful for the power and trust of the people that will be granted to you for appearing to be a family man, a good husband, and an eventual good father. This is not a marriage of love, and it never will be. I have accepted the convenience of it all. You should too.”

“I will not invite him.”

Well, there was only one option left to change his mind. If he would not listen to reason, it was time to be irrational. 

You took a step closer to him. Snow squeezed your hand, almost in warning, as if he could anticipate what you were about to do. 

“You will send the entire Plinth family an invitation, or I shall not come at all. Do you wish for your attempts at romanticism to be in vain?”

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Himbo!Granger!Sibling: *answers a question wrong in class*

Hermione: you’re doing amazing sweetie!

Hermione just absolutely supporting and adoring her Himbo/Bimbo!twin when they’re called on in the middle of class and answer a question with such confidence only to get it completely wrong. Sure, if it was Ron or Harry in that scenario she would undoubtably face palm and shake her head disappointingly but since it’s her twin she’s all handclaps and pride. She probably even has a whole pocket full of treats for her sibling and pats them on their head when she gives them one as a “You did your best”.

Honestly, Hermione is the type to have been planning her and her twin’s futures since the second she could think for herself. It was her ultimate goal to have her and her sibling’s lives intertwine and revolve around one another and now that they’re a part of the magical world that hasn’t changed for her whatsoever. If anything it’s only pushed her more towards achieving that for both her and her precious twin. She wants nothing but the best for her sibling and she knows she’s the only one who can give them that, even if it isn’t what they want for themself but it doesn’t matter cause Hermione knows best for the both of them.

Unlike how she is with Ron and Harry where she urges them to study, study, study, Hermione would 100% flat out do her Himbo/Bimbo!twin’s work for them without them so much as asking her to. If she can’t exactly do it for them herself then she would either come up with a spell where she could share her answers with them or find some way to let them copy down what she’s already worked out. Of course Hermione is clever and well aware enough to dumb down whatever she does for her twin, whether it’s doing their stuff for them or writing something down that her twin could easily copy and pass as their own.

I also really love the thought of Himbo/Bimbo!twin!Granger!Reader really taking to a particular subject and being better at it then Hermione. It would be Hermione’s luck that it’s Divination that piques her twin’s interest and that they have a natural talent for it or something like that. That would irritate her to no end, not so much that her twin is better at something than her but more so that it’s something that Hermione couldn’t even be bothered with trying to form any kind of understanding for. Especially regarding Divination. If it were anything else, Hermione would be so much more supportive and encouraging towards her twin’s new found interest. But that doesn’t mean she would want it getting in the way and influencing her sibling’s future career choices cause she’s already done them the courtesy of choosing all of that for them already.

Also, you can’t tell me there isn’t some form of a complex when it comes to Hermione being labeled the “smart twin” and her sibling being the “dumbass twin”. More for Hermione than her twin. Like, Hermione is so used to being the “clever one”, she’s the one who is in charge when it comes to her and her sibling; that’s how it’s always been and that’s how she wants it to stay. But when her sibling begins to start straying from her lead and doing their own thing it stirs something in Hermione that she never thought she would have to take into consideration.

[tenaciousbouquetearthquake]

Shall I tell you how many Nazis I killed today?, pt2

Read it on ao3 / Check out the story’s masterlist

Anders *may* have been faking injuries to come and see you in the infirmary, but this time he's actually been shot. In the leg. By Freddy.

Humor, angst, mentions of violence, and Anders Lassen backstory. Also, Anders has a dirty mind and is a bit of a lovable asshole.

Anders Lassen is bored . Bored, bored, bored , bored , bored .

Anders is so bored that he's been silently writing a novel in his head for the last two days. A thriller, of course, about a man and a bear fighting to the death in the wilderness in Denmark. It's a psychological thriller, a great story about man against nature, about the animal within the man, and about a man facing down his demons. 

There's also a woman.

A beautiful woman. Strong, smart, kind, intelligent, and way too good for the hero of the story, but like all great love stories, she’ll decide to settle down with him in the end because he can fight off a bear with his bare hands, and also because Anders is writing the story and the woman in this tale of his looks remarkably like you. Although she's much happier to see her hero than you are to see him as you scowl down at him from his bedside.

Your arms are crossed over your chest in a delightful move that pushes your breasts out just enough to catch his eye and Anders grins at the sight at it, mentally returning to the last time he had you—and, by extension, them —all to himself. Now that , he thinks, was a damn good night, and a far better story than the novel he’s been writing in his head.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You're scowling, your mouth pinched in that particular way that always gives Anders a little thrill when he sees it. He loves it when you're angry, loves it when you're scowling, loves it when you're damn near ready to murder him for glaring at the other patients in the room who are eyeing the pretty medic like the last time he showed up here. You could make that look at him all day long and Anders would still love it.

Of course, he'd also be making a mental list of all the ways he could wipe that scowl from your face and replace it with something a little more inviting. An endeavor, he mentally adds, that would also be far more entertaining during this visit than his half-written novel that currently sees his alter ego about to be mauled by a great mama bear. 

“Who, me?” Anders asks, gesturing toward himself as he looks up at you, thoroughly amused by the look of annoyance on your face. “I just came to visit my favorite medic. It's been a while since we’ve seen each other, you know, and I can't stop thinking about that time you threatened to cut my balls off with my own knife.” He watches your face go a little red, cheeks warning with embarrassment at the memory. “You remember the time, don't yo–”

“ Yes ,” you hiss, and Anders grins widely again, propping his hands behind his head to lean against them in a relaxed pose. You were a nurse then, too, he remembers. Right after he came to England. Right after Eric was killed. When Anders didn't know what he was going to do and didn't have any other direction or purpose than killing as many Nazis as possible. Not that that detail has changed, of course, but somewhere along the way, that plan came to involve you, and then you were removed from the team on a temporary assignment, and ever since Anders just keeps ending up in the infirmary. One injury after another.

What an awful string of bad luck.

“You know,” Anders drawls, making a show out of eyeing you up and down and even wiggling his eyebrows at the sight of you. “I like this outfit, but I don't think it suits you.” 

You give him a look that says exactly how unimpressed you are with that statement, but for Anders, every look you give him just makes you more enticing. More exciting. More irresistible. Really, the sight of you angry or annoyed with him is just a big turn on for him and he can’t help wanting more. Needing more. To numb the pain of existence with the heady balm of your body and soul. “I don’t believe I asked for your opinion on my uniform, Lassen .”

His grin doesn’t falter for even a second, although he does have a small internal debate about whether the sound of you saying his last name with such frustration is more arousing than when you were moaning it that first night you were together. “Ja, you look much better wearing my shirt and coat,” he says, watching your cheeks turn bright red as you glance around the infirmary quickly, wondering how many people can hear him. It’s not many—or there aren’t many who would dare to acknowledge it, anyway. Anders has all the men in this tent thoroughly terrified. That happens when a six foot plus tall bear of a man with a reputation for blood lust glares at you from across the room. Somehow, people decide to find other things to be interested in. “But I like you best wearing nothing at all.” The way you look at him with such absolute fury then, the color in your face and creeping down your neck, the narrowing of your eyes.

Has any woman ever looked as sexy as you are, glaring at him like that?

That’s when you decide that you’ve had enough of this and Anders, well, Anders can’t help but stare at you as you close the distance between yourself and his bed, picking up his chart to look at it. “So,” you start primly, apparently having decided that you’re not going to let him bother you anymore—something Anders won’t stand for at all. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?”

Anders pulls his hands from behind his head and affects his most sullen, pained look. “Gunshot wound, Nurse. It hurts terribly. Perhaps,” he drawls, looking up at you through his eyelashes, “you can do something for the pain?”

He watches you swallow, the subtle movement of muscles in your throat and neck, the way you’re trying hard not to show that he’s bothering you. He thinks that he’d like to kiss you there next time, to pay special attention to that particular spot and to hear you moan his name when he leaves small, sucking kisses there. He’d like to see how your neck looks all marked up by him, to see you physically claimed by him.

He thinks about that a lot.

“You shot yourself in the leg?” You ask dryly, letting your hand with the clipboard fall against your leg with a quiet thud as you look at him with complete exasperation, and strangely, Anders is quite in love with that look, too. 

“Ja,” Anders says, feigning embarrassment—as if he were capable of such a feeling. “Ja, it was terrible. We were fighting Nazis. There was blood. My finger slipped on the trigger.” He deliberately leaves out any more details, looking down at his wounded leg and shaking his head. He finds that people tend to believe this story more if he seems as though he’s too embarrassed to tell them everything . “And now, I’m stuck in the infirmary until I’m well enough to murder people again.”

There’s a moment when you’re silent and just gazing down at Anders, and he’s close, so very close, to looking up at you again. Just to see your face. Whether you believe him (you probably won’t). Whether you care (he hopes you do). Whether you’re worried about him (god, please let you be concerned for his well-being). Whether you’re overanalyzing this situation and he needs to run damage control (he’ll probably have to do this anyway, but it’s more fun when he gets to do it with you). Whether you’re anywhere close to figuring out what actually happened (Freddy did it—it really was an accident…probably…but maybe Anders should stop coming onto him and otherwise fucking with his head for a while?).

“Oh, come on,” you practically snap, gesturing toward his leg with your free hand. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that? What, you couldn’t come up with a better story this time? You weren’t fighting off a bear in the wilderness somewhere and he took a bite out of you?”

Anders perks up like nothing else now, literally shoving himself up in the bed, purposely putting enough extra weight on his arms to make his muscles bulge and—he notes with satisfaction—draw your eyes there. “You want me to fight off a bear?” There’s real interest in his voice, real excitement. He’ll fight a bear for you. He’ll fight a hundred bears for you. He’ll fight an entire bear army as they march through Denmark in the dead of winter with no shoes on his feet because that’s the only handicap that will make it a fair fight for the bears, if it impresses you. God, you’re even more attractive now than you’ve ever been before. “I can do this for you. Do they have any bears here in England?”

Your eyes only faintly pull away from his arms, from the sheer bulk of them, to his face, and he can see the second the annoyance with him slips back into place. Or, at least, the second you try to be annoyed with him again. It doesn’t quite take this time, not completely. “That’s not the point,” you respond, and Anders notes that you don’t really answer the question about whether he should fight a bear for you. He wonders briefly how he can arrange your next meeting so it involves bears. Maybe he can find one and let it loose in the infirmary? “Last time you were here, you said you broke your foot and could barely walk on it, and it needed immediate medical attention or you wouldn’t be able to keep working with Gus.”

“Ja,” Anders says, sighing as he remembers. He’d stubbed his toe on a rock while he was helping to train some new recruits for Gus. The pain had been excruciating. It had clearly required medical attention. From you. “The mission, it was a dangerous one. I was lucky to come back alive.”

Your eyes narrow at him, but Anders can see that hint of a smile near your eyes, the way they crinkle and sparkle at him. “And the time before that, you said you’d taken a hit to the side and had been gravely injured and needed to be examined.”

“ Oof ,” Anders makes a dramatic noise of pain. They’d helped liberate a community of people on the Nazi controlled Channel Islands. A child ran up to him in excitement and hugged him too hard in thanks. He’d barely been able to breathe the whole trip home. Obviously, he needed to be examined. He could’ve died. “The pain,” he says, clutching a hand to his side. “It was unbearable. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t think I would have survived.”

Your mouth is still pinched in that delightful way Anders likes, your gaze just as sharp. But your lips are twitching. He can see it—he’s getting to you. “And the time before that,” you say, tucking the clipboard back into its customary spot at the end of his bed. Anders watches you, sensing that you’re about to do something from the way you’re moving. “You had a terrible pain in your chest and thought you were having a heart attack and needed emergency medical attention.”

Anders’s meaty palm immediately goes to his chest, splayed over his head, as he gives you a pained look. “My heart,” he says, closing his eyes in a dramatic expression. “It was so frightening. I didn’t know if I would survive.” He looks up at you through those glasses he wears. “Luckily, you were there to make it better or I might not be here today.” He ate one too many bowls of a really spicy Greek dish at dinner. It felt like his chest was going to explode. The only remedy he could think of was to come and see you.

You’re trying to be subtle, to be stealthy in how you move. Anders can see it. Anders has a pretty good idea of what you’re about to do. He’s a hunter, after all—half of his job is to know how animals and people think—and as much as he adores you, he can read you like a book. He can see the way you inch forward, the way you lean in just a little over his leg. He knows exactly what you’re about to do.

He also knows the pay off afterward is going to be worth a little pain. Or a lot of pain. Mentally, he prepares himself.

“Of course, I was,” you say sweetly, enjoying Anders’s game as much as you try to pretend otherwise. Anders can tell this, too. “I am a trained nurse and a medic, after all. My job is to be here for everyone who comes in with an injury.” Anders is scowling at the implication in your words that he's not special when you come down hard on his injured leg, the weight of your body pressing down straight on the wound that he knows you were expecting to be fake. At this point, most of the intake people don't really ask him too many questions—he just grumbles at them in that big, bearish way of his, and they give him a bed and track you down to figure out what the hell is wrong with him. So, it really shouldn't be so satisfying when his body jumps in the bed at the pain that shoots up his leg or he growls and lets off a string of words in Danish that his mother most certainly would not have approved of.

But then you're yelling, too, and you’re moving back and forth between his leg and his face with a look of absolute horror and concern, and it is satisfying. It's so fucking satisfying that Anders thinks it's worth every second of pain. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I'm sorry,” you’re saying frantically, uncertain what to do or where to start because you're not usually the person who causes pain. You're usually the person who makes it better. This must be so unsettling for you. 

Anders obviously has to take advantage of it.

When the screaming calms down and you’re still distraught enough to not look too closely at him, he leans back in the bed and looks pained. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says in a faux attempt to soothe you, even as he appears to be in agony. “It’s only a little pain. Just the whole leg. It’s not on purpose.”

“It’s not okay,” you argue, looking between Anders’s face and his leg. You gently readjust the bed around it, then the blankets, looking like you’re nearly in tears as you glance back up at him. “You’re actually hurt and I just made it worse. I’m supposed to be a nurse, not a torturer. Your poor leg. Are you okay? What can I do?”

“Ja, ja. It’s fine. I’m fine,” Anders says, pretending to be fighting back a groan of pain as you shuffle to try and make him feel better. You’re leaning forward to help him adjust himself comfortably at the head of the bed, moving his pillows for him, moving the blankets. Anything you can think of. Leaning over just enough that Anders, blessed, innocent soul that he is, can just peek down the top of your dress to those breasts that he’s oh so fond of. 

It takes an awful lot of effort not to grin as he ogles them.

“No, it’s not fine. It’s not fine at all,” you insist, although Anders is actually only half listening at this point. “I’ve been so stressed with everything happening here, and we’re constantly busy, and I just assumed that you were being a pain in the a— what are you doing ?” 

The question takes a few seconds to register, Anders is so caught up in the sight of your cleavage and all the other wonderful parts of your body nearby. When it finally does, he’s equally as slow to respond, his eyes only gradually moving upward, dragging casually over the other parts of you he can see—the perfection of your collarbone, the curves of your neck, that place just near your ear where he kissed you one time and discovered that you’re extremely sensitive and ticklish there. When he finally meets your eyes, he can’t even affect a look of anything approaching innocence, instead giving you a shameless grin. “Have I ever told you, min elskede,” he says, lowering his voice to something husky and clearly meant for seduction, “what a lovely figure you have?”

Your jaw drops open and you just stare at him for a long, long moment, as if your brain can’t quite compute what’s actually happening. That Anders Lassen is not only wounded ( actually fucking wounded , for once), but that he’s here and apparently determined to be a pain in your ass. Which, to be fair, is not an area that Anders is particularly interested in.

Unless you’re into that sort of thing, of course. Or you’d like to be in pain. 

Anders is really quite flexible when it comes to the interests of his sexual partners, if he’s completely honest. And his choice in partners, in general. He’s not coming onto Freddy just to fuck with his head.

Well…not completely, anyway.

Long enough time passes that Anders is actually wondering if you’re okay. He’s about to say something when your mouth closes abruptly and you pull back, leveling one more glare at him before you turn to leave.

“Oi, min elskede,” Anders calls out to you. “We were just having a lovely moment. Where are you going?”

You pause midstep, stand there long enough to get control of your temper, and turn back to glare at him with the most beautiful, most delectable look of absolute irritation that he’s ever seen in his entire life. “ To get your knife and make good on my threat from before .”

Anders’s grin is so wide as you leave that his face actually hurts, but it’s a good pain.

The problem is that you don’t come back for the rest of the day or, more importantly, after dark. It’s not that Anders is afraid of the dark. He left behind those kinds of childhood fears a long time ago. There wasn’t really room for them in the space of his childhood, filled as it was with both the luxuries of extreme wealth and the hardships of choosing a life as a hunter. As a boy, he often spent his days attempting to appease his mother by acting like a gentleman and attending his school lessons, only to sneak out after dark and venture far enough from the family estate that he could get away with all sorts of trouble. Usually, he’d find somewhere quiet enough and with enough natural light to be able to practice his archery for a few extra hours. Sometimes, he’d run into a wild animal and nearly get eaten or mauled but manage to escape with his skin intact and his parents never the wiser. In the years that existed somewhere between boyhood and manhood, before Anders eventually wandered away from the fineries of the estate to a harder, more rugged life, his nightly adventures began to involve the opposite sex—or the occasional boyhood friend who shared a curiosity and attraction that they were willing to explore with him.

Anders Lassen is not the type of man to be afraid of the dark. Not then and not now.

But he is afraid of his dreams, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, even to himself. In his dreams, he goes back to that place . To the dark room, where shadows dominate every corner. To the scent of vomit that’s been sitting, the air acrid and sour. Anders might have vomited, too, except that he didn’t have anything left in his stomach to throw up—not after he’d killed the guards outside this place, taken his first human lives. His throat still burned from when he’d doubled over and emptied his stomach right afterward, his hands thick with their blood as it dripped from the blade of his knife.

It’s always somehow too big and too small a room in his dreams. It feels cramped and claustrophobic, but the path to the center of the room is endless, stretched before him in a distorted vision of violence and its aftermath. When he gets here, Eric is still somehow alive, even though his heart is missing. He’s strung up by his hands, his face battered and bloody, his body broken and bruised, his heart cut out, but he’s still alive. 

Eric looks up from where he’s hanging and sees Anders, his beloved older brother who always protected him as a body, standing there. He looks at Anders in accusation.

“ You’re too late . See what they did to me? ”

Anders wakes with a start. His heart is pounding, palms sweaty, hands clenched so tightly that his nails are cutting skin. It’s a few breaths before he even realizes that he’s not in that room anymore, that this place is bright and sunny and sterile, and that it reeks of rubbing alcohol and scrambled eggs. His eyes are wide open before his brain has time to process that the sudden light is too much for them and he winces and clenches them closed again, blinking them open slowly to adjust to the morning light that filters in through the window. It gives him time for his heart to stop pounding, to catch his breath and bring himself under control before you come into view. 

“You’re running a fever.” You frown as you gaze down at him, your hair framing your face in that way that catches the highlights of the sun and lets rays fall gently over your face. It's almost angelic, and in the nightmare rattled mind of Anders Lassen, the effect is even more powerful. In that moment, you're the ray of light, the angel of mercy and goodness, the ultimate salvation. “How do you feel?”

Anders take a deep breath, then another. One more. He quietly tells himself to push past it, to leave the dark behind and walk into the light, into you. Somehow, though, he never takes that final step. A part of Anders Lassen remains in the dark, in the shadows and nightmares. A part of Anders Lassen really doesn't believe he can ever come back, if he was ever fully there at all. “Like I could fight a bear,” Anders replies, but he can feel that something is off.

Like looking at a painting that's been hung on a wall and you know that it's not straight, but it looks perfect from where you're standing. 

Anders tries to pick up a detail to focus in on, something to draw his mind back to the present and away from the things he doesn't want to think about. The feeling of your hand on his forehead, a subtle weight he didn't notice at first but that now feels like it's always been there and like it should always be there. The flecks of green and gray in your eyes when the light catches them as you lean forward, odd strands of hair catching in your eyelashes when you move to examine him from a new angle. 

Your hair is longer now than it usually is. He wonders if it's still as soft. His fingers flex on instinct at the thought, muscle memory taking over, and if he didn't feel so tired, and if you didn't look too perfect to touch, he'd indulge his senses in the feel of your hair. And your skin. He wants to touch your lips, tinted lightly with whatever balm you’ve managed to find. He wishes he had a pencil and some paper so he could sketch you while he’s here, cataloging all the details of you that he doesn't want to forget as he recognizes them. 

Instead, Anders lets you examine him with the grace of someone who’s examined far too many soldiers. “You're burning up,” you say, moving methodically as you take his temperature from his forehead with the back of your hand, then feel his chest. It's a testament to how not good Anders is feeling that he doesn't make some smartass about it. He doesn't even try to grab your hand and steal a kiss on the inside of your wrist, right over the delicate veins there. “How's your leg?” He feels you lift the blanket to examine it, the bandage being unwrapped as he hums and only half follows your movements with his eyes.

“Still there.” Anders snorts. It’s not his best line, but it’s the best he can come up with, given the circumstances. Besides, he can’t think past how sticky he feels in the bed and the droplets of sweat on his forehead and the feeling of cool air against his burning leg. It’s almost too much until he feels your fingers gently above the gunshot wound, the same featherlight touch that always seems to bring him back from whatever dark hole he finds himself in. He almost thinks he imagined it when he sees you move to look at him, both of your hands in view, but Anders doesn’t waste any time on self-doubt. He’d know your touch anywhere.

“The infection is getting worse.” You’re trying not to sound worried. Anders can hear it. “I need to get a doctor. I’m going to be right back.”

He tries to protest—he really does. But your hand feels cool against his forehead and his cheek when you caress him there briefly before you disappear from his view, and he’s too lost in the sensation to argue. It feels like an age before you come back, but as he smacks his lips and notices how dry his mouth is, Anders realizes he’s losing track of time. It’s disorienting, this lack of control, the feeling of drifting in and out, as if he’s back on the Maid Honor, that night you spent above deck, and he’s feeling the boat rocking back and forth, but he wants to reach out for you and can’t quite make it.

“Min kærlighed.” The words are a whisper, a sigh into empty air. “Min kærlighed.” He remembers an old saying in Danish, something he heard his uncle say once when he was a young boy. The memory is disjointed, the words seeming to come out of nowhere, drifting through his mind the same way the Maid Honor was drifting in the sea. He’d repeated them, some of the very first words he spoke, tasting the sk sound of some of the words on his tongue, testing his grasp for a new form of communication.

His father and his uncle had laughed when they heard him. A very young Anders had laughed, as well, delighted to have caused such good humor.

His mother, however, had not been pleased—gentlemen didn’t say such things.

“Min kærlighed.” He taught the phrase to Eric once. Anders was twelve and Eric was—how old was he? Anders had only recently discovered the full meaning of the saying, something bawdy and irreverent. He couldn’t wait to teach it to his younger brother, his fellow conspirator in whatever trouble Anders was able to get into. True to form, his mother had not been impressed…but his father and uncle had laughed themselves into tears.

Anders can still remember the look his mother had given his father when she’d caught them laughing. It reminds him of the way you look at him when he manages to really piss you off.

“Min kærlighed.”

“ Shhhhh .” The feeling of your hand on his forehead is heaven. The cool, wet cloth you place there afterward is even better. “I’m right here.” You’re holding his hand. You’re touching his face. You caress his cheek gently with your knuckles, smooth back his short bangs from his face, trace a line from his forehead down the bridge of his nose.

He used to do that with Pippin, his childhood dog. A small, ratty thing. He wasn’t supposed to keep her. She wasn’t exactly hunting dog material, more like a ratter, and the Lassens didn’t really keep dogs as pets, anyway. They were there to help with the hunt. But Anders didn’t care—he snuck the dog into his room and by the time his parents and the servants in the house realized he’d taken her in, he was too attached to the little ball of fur. His parents didn’t have the heart to take her away from him.

“Min kærlighed.”

The comparison amuses him. Is that what it’s come to—Anders Lassen, a dog? A mere animal of a man? He supposes it’s an appropriate description. The Nazis and even most of the men he’s met would agree with it.

“Min kærlighed.”

You scowled at him the first time he called you that. It was just after you met, back when you didn’t really trust him or anyone else. You were newly qualified as a medic. Anders was newly arrived in England and had volunteered to help rid the world of Nazis. “ I don’t speak Danish ,” you’d snapped. “ But I’d appreciate it if you’d call me by my actual fucking name , thank you. ”

No one respected a female medic—no one wanted you in the field or trusted you to have their backs. It was actually the nicest thing any of the men had called you, although you didn’t trust that when he told you so.

“ Min kærlighed .”

Pippin died. It was Anders’s fault. He’d taken her with him on one of his late night adventures. They ran into a wolf. Anders froze, the only time it’s ever happened in his entire life. Pippin stepped in, charged the wolf, tried to protect him.

Is this how he dies? But who looks after his family, if he does? Who looks after you?

“ It’s okay .” You sound so far away. “ I’m right here. ”

Eventually, you asked him what all the things he called you meant. 

Min kærlighed. Min Skat. Elskede. Min blomst. Smukke. Yndling.

You were both in bed. It was a rare occasion when you’d been able to get away, disappearing into a hotel room and not coming out for an entire weekend. He was stroking his fingers up and down your arm, your lips pressed to his chest in a kiss—something soft, reverent. Chaste. He could have told you the truth, but somehow giving you the words in English simultaneously made it too real and too unreal. It would mean admitting an emotion that he was determined not to experience. It would lose some of its magic in the translation. 

“Ugly fish,” he’d declared after a long moment of silence. He felt you freeze against his side, felt the weight of your glare on him.

“Ugly. Fish.” You bit out the words.

He hummed the affirmative.

“All this time,” you started, placing an emphasis on every syllable, “all those names, and they all translate to ‘ugly fish’?”

“Ja,” he’d said on a heavy sigh, as if the subject were a burden to have to explain to you. “Ugly salmon. Ugly trout. Ugly tuna.”

“ Ugly tuna? ”

You’d scowled at him for days. Anders had loved every second of it, knowing without needing to ask that you weren’t really mad at him. You knew he was lying.

He knew that you knew he was lying.

It was a game and Anders Lassen so loves to play.

“ You can’t just stay by his bedside the whole time. You have other patients. ”

“ And you have other nurses. ”

“ May I remind you that you’re only here because you have a job to do. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near his hospital. ”

“ You can remind me all you like. It won’t make a difference . I’m not moving from this bedside. ”

Who are you arguing with?

Anders dreams about Appleyard. It’s the day of the mission to rescue him from the German garrison. Anders is fighting his way up the stairs, down the corridor. He charges into the room where they’re keeping him, killing one of the Nazis through sheer, brute force. But it’s all in vain. They got here too late. Appleyard is already dead. There’s no battery attached to his nipples, just Appleyard hanging from the chains around his wrists, his chest carved open, his heart cut out.

Just like Eric.

In a fury, Anders attacks the remaining Nazis. He kills them. He cuts out a heart. He tries to put in Appleyard’s chest, hands frantic and slippery with blood as he tries to replace the life that they stole, to save Appleyard from his brother’s fate. 

It doesn’t work.

“ You have to hold on, Anders.”

“ I won’t forgive you if you leave me like this .”

“ I can’t lose anyone else. Please. ”

He dreams again, but this time, it’s you. He’s running through the corridor. He can hear you in that room, that place that’s somehow where Eric died and where Appleyard was kept, dark and light at the same time, waiting for him at the end of that hallway that seems to stretch on forever. You’re screaming—dear god, you’re screaming, your lungs emptying of air as the sound claws its way through the hall toward him. You’re screaming his name.

Anders…Anders, help me!

He can’t reach the door. Why is the door so far away? Why aren’t his legs working right? He’s faster than this. You’re screaming and he can’t reach you.

“ Anders, please .”

Anders, please!

He’s nearly there—he’s nearly there. He can make it. He can make it.

“ Anders… ”

Anders!

Anders doesn’t reach the door in time. He never reaches the door in time. Not in any of his dreams. He never saves anyone, especially the people he cares about most. Anders fails in the only task that matters. He was built to protect.

But all he does is kill.

Death will be a blessing, a sweet release. He’ll see Eric again. He can apologize for not getting to him in time. He’ll apologize for not saving Appleyard. He’ll apologize for not protecting you. He can sleep. God, he can sleep without any more nightmares or seeing the eyes of the men he’s killed staring up at him, their blood on his hands, the weight of their murders pressing down on him. He wants to die.

He wants to die.

…he wants to die…

“ I need you .”

The world comes back into focus in minute details, one after the other. The ticking of a clock, the sound steady and constant like the metronome his music teacher used to use. The warmth of sunlight on his face. The feeling of linen scratching against his bare arms, sheets threadbare from too many washes. The sound of someone breathing near him, the quiet exhales like the air against his face in the seconds after releasing an arrow, the string of his bow reverberating near his cheek. The scent of something feminine—not soft or gentle, but crisp like the morning chill that bites against the skin of his face in the autumn back in Denmark. A weight against his arm, heavy like a body, the way his own body feels heavy in the bed as he slowly becomes aware of each separate extremity. 

His toes wiggling, the one that was broken a few weeks ago still popping at the joint. The throbbing in his leg, the wound deep and fleshy where Freddy accidentally shot him. The base of his spine, stiff from staying too still for too long in a bed that’s too hard on his back. His heart beating a steady rhythm, as calm now as when he’s hunting elk, a quiet beat beat beat in his ears. The shoulder that’s been sore the last week after using it as a battering ram against a Gestapo agent. The twitching of his fingers, first one, then another, curving incrementally without Anders consciously thinking about the movement.

You. You, like an extension of his body, the beating of your heart against him from where you’ve positioned yourself over him to sleep like a blanket. Your hair against his neck, one arm draped over him in possession, your lips as they move in sleep and form soundless words that Anders will think about later and wish desperately that he had some way to know what you were saying. The tension in your arm, even in your sleep, holding onto his body like a lifeline, as if you could drag him back from whatever darkness was drawing him in, as if you could protect him— you could protect him , the Danish Hammer, a motherfucking Viking, a force of nature, who’s wrestled down bears with his bare hands. 

His head feels fuzzy, too tired to concentrate and too stubborn not to try, turning slowly to look down at you and letting the weight of his head gradually droop in his pillow so that it settles naturally into a position where he can see you without effort. 

Your eyes move behind closed eyelids as you dream.

What are you dreaming about?

Anders wants to touch you, to pull you closer against him and cradle your body against his, but he can’t bring himself to disturb you. Not when you’re holding onto him like that. He just stares at you and watches you sleep until you begin to wake up, as if you can sense that he’s awake and his attention is entirely on you. Everything about you is light and silken—the color in your face from sleep, the light catching in the highlights of your hair, the curves of your lips, your expression relaxed. Everything about you is alive.

Everything about you makes him want to be alive. Everything about you makes him wish that the world was a very different place and that he was a better man.

“Hello,” you say, breaking the silence, your voice barely audible. It sounds like the lightest note on the violin his sister plays, the one she refused to give up when his family left for England, the first hints of sound when bow meets string.

“Du er så smuk.” His mother would be amused if she could see this. She’d be sizing you up and planning a wedding and picking out names for her grandchildren. 

You blink away sleep and practically climb your way up his body, not satisfied with how close you already were to him. A hand settles on his shoulder, your arm on his chest, your face next to his, your body claiming him completely, and distantly Anders thinks that he can’t remember the last time he was claimed by a lover. “You know I still don’t speak Danish.”

“Ja.” A large part of Anders is selfish and hopes that you never do. That these truths he can’t say any other way will never ever be revealed. “Ord kan ikke beskrive min kærlighed til dig. ”

You swallow, your throat bobbing. You’re not going to ask what he’s saying. Whatever’s transpired since the last time he spoke to you consciously, neither of you is ready to deal with it. “Maybe you’ll teach me one day,” you whisper. “Once we get back.”

Anders couldn’t make himself look away now if he tried. “Get back?”

You nod, careful about putting too much pressure against his body. “I’ve been reassigned back to Gus’s team as the medic. Once you’re ready to leave, we’ll be going back together.”

Anders smiles as the two of you settle back into a comfortable silence.

Fucking finally, he thinks. He was running out of ways to pretend to hurt himself.

[cultofdixon]

It is no one’s fault for unexpected tragedies

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Accidents happen every day. That hasn’t changed because of the end of the world…so why are you trying to blame yourself, Dixon? • ANGST/SFW • TW: Major Injuries / Blood Loss / Anxiety Attacks / Nightmares

Requested by: Anon

“You’re going on that run tomorrow right?” Daryl asks his partner who was busy packing for said run, so it was stating the obvious in hopes that Y/N would invite him. But she knows his games.

“Yes, and I’ll be at the Kingdom by nightfall. I’ll manage without you” Y/N smiles leaning into her man when he brings himself close bringing his arms around her. “Think you’ll manage without me?”

“Nah. I’ll always need yea” Daryl felt the twitch of a smile grace his features when Y/N turned around to face him and pressed her lips to his cheek.

As the next morning follows, Daryl leans against the car Y/N will be taking as she puts her bag in the trunk along with the trading good for the Kingdom.

“Don’t cause too much trouble when I’m gone, Dixon”

“You try not to cause any trouble, Dixon” He smiles warmly bringing her into his embrace for a moment holding her and occasionally planting kisses on her temple.

“You’re trying to butter me up to invite you or to distract me long enough to stay”

“Is it working?” He hums bringing his lips to hers as she happily returns the soft gentle kiss before gently pushing herself off of him. “You wound me, sunshine”

“You have work to do as well, love. Better go get it done.” Y/N smiles pulling him off the car before getting into the driver Daryl instantly brought himself to the window stealing one more kiss before getting roped into anything and everything Rick asks of him.

It’s been a couple of hours and Daryl sat on the porch of his home holding the radio in his hand giving it another second before calling in to any open line hoping someone from the Kingdom to answer. Just his luck that Carol was the first to chime back.

“Hey?”

“It’s Daryl”

“Ha, no shit. Did you need something, Daryl?”

“I was uh wondering…if Y/N made it there and if I could talk to her” Daryl frowns hoping for a yes from the other side as he never liked being apart from his partner.

“She’s currently sleeping. Went hunting on her drive over here.”

“Seriously? She didn’t take her hunting rifle”

“You know Y/N. She’s a creative person, she got creative and brought a buck over. You are uh missing out if I do say so”

“Well I can always come—-“

“She’s sleeping! Are you seriously going to come here and disturb her?”

Daryl didn’t like where this conversation was going and grew a bit of a suspicion. “Carol. I was talkin’ to try the buck. I ain’t gonna interrupt her sleep…but a little hunting just for one piece of game shouldn’t have worn her out”

“Well, she did also stop at a few cars along the way to siphon for gas. Yknow, what we are supposed to do while Maggie devises a plan for an alternative fuel source that isn’t solar”

Carol is a smart woman and knows how to knock the archer off her “scent”. “Seriously Daryl. Just come over tomorrow”

“Y/N is supposed to come home tomorrow”

“Well, that’s too bad. Guess she has to stay here so that the two of you go home together. Besides, you were already planning to come for breakfast if Rick didn’t ask you to take the morning watch” Carol took a swing with her guessing and the silence from the other end only confirmed it. The grumble that got picked up also did. “We shall see you tomorrow”

“Tell Y/N I said goodnight.” Pause. “And I love her” Then the line finally turns off.

Carol stood in the hallway to the housing section of the Kingdom that included the mess hall and their designated rooms for their infirmary when she took the call from her best friend. Her best friend could sniff out lies…but didn’t this time.

“Hey,” Carol quickly turned to Siddiq, who did weekly visits to other communities, giving her a concerned look. “She’s awake”

“Okay…Can I be alone with her?”

“Yeah, I’ll be getting her water. Were you talking to Daryl? Did you tell him yet?”

“No…Should I have?”

“If she was dying, yeah. But it’s still…a lot. Maybe in the morning tell him?” Siddiq questioned while passing his friend he didn’t overhear the conversation because Carol knew for a fact Daryl would be coming in the morning.

Whether Y/N had a near death experience or not.

When Carol entered the room to find her friend lay in bed. She looked exhausted, broken in physical and mental places, but brought her attention to the soft steps her friend gave and shown her a smile on her face before it faded when looking at her injuries.

“Can’t believe I almost died over a deer…”

“You did bring us back a plentiful feast from the buck” Carol tried to joke with her to lighten the mood but the way Y/N went from exhausted to emotionless to overwhelmed in the matter of seconds, it wasn’t the time. “Hey hey…I’m sorry I shouldn’t have tried to make light on very recent matters…I’m just. So thankful you’re still alive”

“I could’ve died…could’ve been worse than broken bones and several deep wounds. I’ve…I’ve gotten so used to this life and how grateful I am for the now…how the fuck did those stupid fucking deer not see me?” Y/N sobbed no matter how painful her broken ribs felt when trying to catch a deep breath to calm her, or the throbbing pain from her broken wrist and dislocated ankle. More had happened and more could’ve happened.

Throughout the night, Ezekiel came in to check on Carol who wasn’t going to leave her friend’s side and helped in any way that he could for both his partner and Y/N. Eventually they decided to use the oxygen tank they found to keep some flow steady for Y/N given every chance she tried to sleep she would trigger an anxiety attack making it difficult to breathe and her ribs were already doing a number on her.

The morning came and Daryl had radio’d in before coming so Carol could prepare entirely for what she was going to tell him. But she also prepared for in the moment it was going to fly out the window.

Daryl came through the gates of the Kingdom noticing Ezekiel first as he waves at him giving him a waiting gesture so that he could fetch Carol. But the archer grew curious about the tense atmosphere when he parked his bike, not finding the vehicle Y/N had came in.

“Hey man! You here for breakfast with Carol?” Jerry approaches Daryl as he gave the man a confused look. “Hey? What’s up?”

“Y/N’s car ain’t around. Did she leave?”

“Uh no. She uhm. Got a flat so one of our people is taking a look at it. She’s still…somewhere!” Jerry laughs with a shrug as he quickly takes his leave into the direction of where Y/N really is, knowing Carol is there. But he kept glancing behind him to make sure Daryl wasn’t following.

He wasn’t. But he is investigating further.

But it meant him being a bit nosey in his scary silent way.

A few Kingdom people were tending to a lot of repairs regarding its community and Daryl thought those few would be the best to ask around about any vehicle maintenance but the answers revolved around…

Had to fill one up with gas

The tire repair would’ve been tricky if we didn’t have to spare

Did you know duct tape is a good tool to keep a bumper on?

Nothing really of use until Daryl found a man going through the engine of a familiar model to the car his partner took but he honestly can’t entirely recall what the car was since he was more focused on Y/N.

“Need a hand?” Daryl decided to come off the helpful route to see if he gets more out of the guy.

“Uh” This guy gave the archer a confused look before moving aside giving him access to look for himself.

“There’s nothing wrong with it” Now Daryl was even more confused while looking at the engine before reaching in and taking out a piece of an antler. “Someone hit a buck?”

“More like…a buck and a half. I was just told to get rid of the evidence before trying to repair the car cosmetically” He groans gesturing for Daryl to step back to close the hood as they watch it bounce up. “Yeah this’ll take a while”

“What happened to the person driving it?”

“Oh you should’ve been there. She came in with the buck through the windshield and the deer barely hanging onto the hood. It was fucking awful. I haven’t heard about her condition yet, that Siddiq fella that makes his rounds every few weeks? If he wasn’t here when she came in, she probably would’ve died to her injuries”

Daryl watches the man round the car to check the back of it, leaving him to check the drivers seat and once he opened the door he brings himself to sit so he could reach the glove box finding Y/N’s journal. She always brings that on her drives. His anxiety went from steady to overwhelming in the matter of seconds as he left the vehicle knowing exactly where to go next.

Carol stood in the hallway after being informed that Daryl was on the premises and it will only take him a matter of time before he barged into the building.

“How bad is it?!”

“Daryl—-“ Carol stopped him in his tracks as he instantly fought against her.

“NO! If she’s dead and yea didn’t tell me I’m gonna—-“

“She’s not dead, Daryl!” She raised her voice loud enough for her words to pass his rushing thoughts as he relaxed from trying to toss his friend over to get to Y/N. “She’s in a lot of pain, even with the meds we gave her. You need to be careful going in there”

“H-…Sh…She’s fine?”

“Yes. She’s going to be fine. You need to get that look off your face” The archer instantly scoffed as Carol gripped his shoulders. “She’ll read your expression in an instant Daryl. You know she will. Don’t even try and make this your fault when it’s not. It’s not hers either. Freak accidents happen”

“I know that…w-what makes yea think…” Daryl frowns avoiding her eyes contact knowing damn well she’s giving him a concerned but obvious expression. He tries to make everything his fault when most incidents aren’t.

They all know this.

The door creaked open startling Y/N a bit as she’s been in and out of that exhaustion fog caused by pain and medication. She tried her best to look at what made the noise but when she saw Daryl step in she felt her heart race and the tears threaten to spill.

“H-Hey” She rasped out as Daryl brought himself to sit carefully on the side of her bed taking note of her injuries resulting in his pulling it all together look to one of fear and sadness as he tried to turn his face away but she used her good hand to grab onto his forearm forcing him to look at the connection before connecting their eyes. “Don’t…”

“…I’m tryin’ not to…”

“This…ugh” Y/N tried to stop the tears. “Was so f-fucking freak. It’s no one’s fault but the goddamn buck”

Daryl couldn’t help the short lived chuckle to escape him as he held onto her arm keeping close as he could to her.

“It did a number on your car. Yea lucky I saved your journal”

“Okay it wasn’t a fucking monster deer that tore the car a new one. It was multiple and no where near the glove compartment” Y/N laughs lightly pulling her hand away only to hold her ribs when she laughed. “I’m so not including this in that book”

“I don’t know…it’d be a page turner” He decided to keep lighthearted on the matter for the time being.

Even if the nights they’ve spent there, Daryl found himself awake by her side in case she needed anything. Least he wasn’t bullying himself as he sat awake. He was just. There for her.

[luveline]

I always see people writing for a very shy/subby Jonathan, but I’d love to see shy!reader staying over at his for the first time (doesn’t have to be sexual!) & our girl being reassured by him & all of the cuddles

thank you for your request! jonathan x shy!fem!reader arriving for your first sleepover ♡

You think you might have lucked out. Your first boyfriend being Jonathan feels like a storybook tenderness you don't deserve, he's just… so lovely. It terrifies you even though he never could, because you're desperate not to fuck it up. You call him your sweetheart, internally, and not solely for pet names sake — he has a sweet heart. He's unbelievably kind, adorable, funny and smart and level-headed. It doesn't hurt that he's your favourite kind of handsome. 

He's waiting for you as you park your car, standing in front of the closed door with a smile already in place. You know he'd made sure he was the first person you saw to alleviate your nerves. If you knocked the door and his mom answered, you probably would've tripped over every word, giving a terrible first impression in the process. 

"Hey," he says happily. How lovely is that? He's happy to see you the second you're in view. "Is that all your stuff?" 

"Is this not enough?" you ask, looking down at your jansport, suddenly worried. 

He finds this super funny and starts laughing his awful golden laugh. He reaches for your bag, fingers brushing yours as he takes it, and leans down to close the small gap for a kiss. You're not used to kisses, and you don't turn your head up right away. He uses his free hand to encourage you. He doesn't make you feel stupid for it. Just murmurs, "There," and kisses you again. 

He smiles against your lips and pulls back. "It's only two days, so you'll be fine. And I'm not holding you hostage. You can leave if you need something." His hand rubs down your arm. He squeezes your fingers. "But you won't need anything." 

He opens the door and you follow him inside, stiff as a board expecting his mom and his brother, Will. 

It's totally silent. Your lips part in confusion. 

"They went to the store. My mom wanted to make sure there were 'ladies things' in the bathroom." 

"She didn't have to do that." 

"I know. She doesn't mind, she wants you to feel welcome. That's what I want, too." His knuckle bumps yours. "Can't murder you if you never let your guard down." 

He starts down the hall toward what you assume to be his room. Your laugh comes out in a gross little snort that he adores, you can see it in the way his shoulders roll and the smile he shoots you confirms it. 

"Jon, you can't joke about stuff like that," you chide, catching up. 

He pushes open his bedroom door. "I'm not gonna murder you," he assures you. "You know how long it took to clean in here?" 

He puts your jansport on the bottom of the bed and looks at you in the doorway. His cheeky smile turns genuine, and his eyes go soft. 

You're expecting it but still squeal in shock as he rushes you and hugs you so hard your feet lift off the ground. He bends under your weight, digging his nose in your neck. 

"You look so pretty today," he says, like he's mad about it. 

"Jon," you laugh, glad when your feet touch the ground again. "Don't, please, I don't wanna be all sweaty when your mom comes home, she'll think we were doing gross stuff." 

"You don't wanna do gross stuff?" he jokes, before amending, "She won't think that. I've already told her you get flustered at everything." 

"You… talk about me to your mom?" 

His turn to clam up. Jonathan widens the gap between you and avoids your eyes, a nervous, endearing smile on his lips as he says, "Whaaat?" 

He's not very convincing. 

You watch him until he meets your eyes again, your smile soft as warm toffee. 

"I talk about you all the time," he says finally. He breathes out, his shoulders rising and falling. "C'mere." 

He raises his arms. You take the half step required to be back in his embrace, hugging him automatically. He settles his arms over your shoulders, a more casual embrace, and looks down at you. He's quiet. 

"What?" you ask. 

"Sorry. Just… like seeing you here. And I have something to say to you, because I know you'll worry about it, but– it's–" His arm curves up and hooks you in. He fights off his own shyness to accommodate your own, and you hope he knows how valuable that is to you. "Okay, my mom, I'll spare you a rehash of most awkward conversation of my life, but she doesn't expect us to, uh, sleep with the door open." 

You go rigid. "Oh, my god," you say, lips barely moving. 

"I'm sorry, but I just wanted you to know now, I don't expect anything from you, okay? And we could leave the door open if that was what you wanted–" 

"What?" you ask, shocked. 

"Not like that!" He looks like he's midway between laughing and crying, his face a fuzzy shade of pink. "I want you here because I want you close, not because I want– well, I do want– I want what you want," he says, promptly shutting his mouth. 

You take a nice, deep breath, squeezing your arms from between your touching chests to cup his face carefully. You thumb his jaw. 

"You're worse than me, sometimes," you sympathise.

"Yeah," he says. "I am." 

You wrap your arms around his neck with a pleased smile, forcing him to grasp at your shoulders. You aren't expecting to do anything you aren't ready for tonight, but the fact that he'd know you were worried about it, that he would brave such an awkward stepping stone so you didn't have to, means the world. He squeezes you. 

"Shit," he mumbles. "I'm sweating. She's definitely gonna think we were doing gross stuff." 

It's funny until you hear the front door open.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 01 of 13}

Billy Hargrove X Older!Reader

Word count: 2 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirting with you... Much less than Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

Next part (02) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, the reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

The Exact Opposite

 The wind is cold against your skin as you move against the sea of students. It has a weird feeling to be in a High School again, even though you left it not so long ago. But still, it feels like a whole different world now.

 “This school is tiny,” Tanya says, walking beside you. “Mine had three buildings and the parking lot was twice the size of this one.”

 “Mine was big too.” There are a lot of eyes on both of you, but you got used to it. It's a small town, and you're both newcomers, walking inside the school while everyone is walking out. They must be curious.

 “Sometimes I wonder if transferring here was a good idea.”

 “Why?”

 “I'm from New York, the city that never sleeps. This town is... Way too slow for me.” You break apart to let a couple holding hands pass before going to the side again. “Indianapolis was bad already. Hawkins...” She sighs, shaking her head.

 “You can always transfer back. I'll miss you, but don't let that stop you.” Linking arms with her, you smile.

 “You better do.”

 Giggling, you push the school officer's door, feeling the cold air-conditioning air. You and Tanya make your way to the receptionist, an old lady who immediately looks up at you. “Good afternoon. We're here for the tutoring.”

 “Good afternoon, my dears.” She greets and smiles, searching for something on her table. A couple of seconds later, she finds it. “Who's Tanya and who's (Y/N)?”

 “I'm (Y/N).” You say, taking the paper she gives you.

 “On these files, you have information about the students you'll be helping. Those set for today must be arriving anytime now, the classes just ended.” She smiles again. “If you need anything, I'm Mrs. Duford and I'll be here to help.”

 “Thanks, Mrs. Duford,” Tanya says and you nod at her, moving to sit on the chairs placed by the wall. “You know I'm only doing this for the trip, right? Dealing with teenagers and kids isn't my thing.”

 “Oh, you got some from the elementary school too?”

 “Yes. But I'm rethinking it. Teenagers are bad enough and-” Someone opens the door and gets your attention. The blonde girl speaks to Mrs. Duford, who gestures at you. “Guess that's my cue?” She asks, glancing at your paper.

 “Yup. I got a boy.”

 Sighing, she stands up. “Wish me luck.”

 “Good luck.” You mutter and she smiles. She's not really into it, but she's smart, and the kids will benefit from her teaching.

 So, left alone, you wait for your student. Ten minutes pass by, and ten more. Maybe he didn't come today or forgot the whole thing. But since you don't have anything to do today, you decide to wait a while longer.

 “My dear.” Mrs. Duford calls and you look up at her. “If the student isn't here you're free to go. I will write a report that he didn't show and-” She's cut off by a guy pushing the door open. He goes straight to her desk and you look down, getting a glimpse of his jeans jacket.

 “Guess I'm off then.” You tell yourself, taking your bag from the chair beside you and folding the papers in half.

 “Are you my tutor?” A strong voice asks, quite rudely, as you get to your feet. Looking up, you find a man staring down at you. Did he just say something about a tutor? Is this man a student here? You were expecting a teenager, not... This.

 “Yes?” It sounds like a question, and you quickly unfold the paper, reading the name. “Are you William Hargrove?”

 When you look at him again, you see his expression change. It's fast, and it happens suddenly. It shifts from anger and annoyance to what seems like surprise, right before going back to annoyance.

 “Just Billy.” He says, awkwardly glancing at Mrs. Duford before turning his attention back to you. “Are you really my tutor?”

 “Yes, why?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you shrug your shoulders and look away. You've been staring at his eyes, light blue eyes, for a little too long.

 “Nothing.” He steps back, clearing his throat. “What now?”

 “They have a classroom set for us.”

 Billy nods, gesturing at the door and smiling. “Lead the way, teacher.”

---

 Billy had to drive like crazy, leave his dipshit sister home and drive back to school. He failed one single test. It's not like he couldn't recover from an F. He did it before, but now the school has this partnership with Indianapolis University, and he has put in it, with a lot of other students.

The truth is that Billy can't stand school anymore. When he turned 18 last year, he thought he'd take his car and go back to California. Go back home. But adult life needs a freaking High School diploma, so he had to stay.

Pushing the car door close, he walks fast inside, cursing himself, the teachers, and everyone else he can name. He can't wait for this to be over, to leave Neil behind, leave that hell of a house behind. Billy wants a life for himself, away from all these stupid, shitty people. High School is just a tiny thing compared to what he wants. Billy wants more. He wants to <be> more. But for that, he needs to graduate.

 “I'm here for some tutor they assigned me.” He spits at the old woman behind the desk, the door banging loudly behind him.

 “She's over there, Mr. Hargrove.” The woman says, and he follows her gesture, finding a girl on the set of chairs near the wall.

 Rolling his eyes and sighing, he walks over to her. “Are you my tutor?” He spits the words, impatient, watching as she stands up, fixing the strap of the bag on her shoulder. The girl looks up, and Billy is taken aback. Of course, he was expecting some ugly nerd with a messed-up face. But this? This girl is a sight for sore eyes, and Billy Hargrove is sore from everything.

 “Yes?” She asks her voice as soft as silk. She also seems a little shocked, opening her papers before raising her eyes to meet his again. “William Hargrove?”

 Ugh, not Willian. He should be mad about it, but for some reason, he feels compelled to forgive her for calling him like that. “Just Billy. Are you really my tutor?” He has to be sure, just in case this is some stupid joke on him.

 “Yes. Why?”

 “Nothing.” Moving away a little, Billy clears his throat. At least he'll have a pretty face to look at while he endures this. And what a face she has. Prettier than all the girls of Hawkings. “What now?”

 “They have a classroom set for us.”

 Just for the two of them?

 The thought crosses his mind like a lightning bolt, making him hold back a smile. Maybe he could try something with her, why not? Even though she doesn't give him the feeling that she'd be down for that. The least he could do is try. So he gestures at the door, offering her a smile. “Lead the way, teacher.”

---

 You enter the classroom first, quickly acknowledging the other three pairs. There's a free table in the back, far enough from the others not to bother them. “Is that table alright?” You ask him, and when he nods, you make your way there, take a seat, waiting for him to do the same.

 “What's your name?” He asks just as he takes his place across from you, cupping his hands over the table and leaning forward.

 “(Y/N). Nice to meet you, Will... Billy.” Correcting yourself, you smile. “Can we start?”

 “Sure.”

 “Do you want to go through the test you failed? Or focus on what's coming next?”

 “The past is in the past. Let's move on.”

 “Alright.” Checking the papers, you read the class planner. “Immune System.” You say. “What exactly do you know about it?”

 “Mmm...” Billy mumbles, and it's clear that he's not very interested in this. But you don't blame him. You weren't very excited about High School yourself, and you didn't care much about the subjects you didn't like. You're sure he'd rather be hanging out with his friends, and honestly, so would you. “Something about protecting the body from infections or sickness.”

 “You're right. Do you have any books with you?” You know he doesn't since he didn't bring any bags, but you decide to ask.

 “In my locker.” He jerks his head to the door. “Want me to get it for you?”

 “That would be good.” Nodding, you watch as he smirks again and stands up.

 “I'll be right back.”

 “You better be.” It comes out more in a joking tone and in a warning one. If Billy uses this as an excuse to leave, you don't mind. It's his future, so this is completely up to him.

 But he comes back a couple of minutes later.

 On the next day though, he shows up late again. And on the next one, you find him on your way out, more than thirty minutes late. Now, you have only two other meetings with him, he'll have a quiz, and if he goes well, you'll be assigned to someone else. But you think he'll do just fine because it seems like he's paying attention...

 Until you noticed he wasn't. Billy was just staring, glaring at you... And you were keeping cool, ignoring it as long as he answered the questions, but today, at the last meeting, you decided to ask, mostly out of curiosity, and because you think he'll do well enough on the quiz, even if just to be free from your tutoring.

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” You inquire, tapping the table with your pen.

 Billy chuckles, pushing his notebook away. “Because I like looking at pretty girls.”

 What the hell? You regret asking when you feel your cheeks heating up. You surely weren't expecting that. But now you know his strategy. Billy is the town's bad boy, you've heard a lot about him. And you won't fall for his games. “Is that what you usually say to make girls go out with you?”

 He giggles, eyes still fixed on you. “No. I only have to ask. The answer is always yes. No need to sugarcoat it with compliments.” He sounds serious this time, leaning closer. “So when I compliment a girl, I mean it.”

 “Mhmm.” You mutter, raising an eyebrow and leaning back on your chair. “I'm not your type of girl, Billy. You like them easy and pretty.”

 “And you're the exact opposite.” He bursts out, closing his notebook at the same moment you close the book. Today's class is over.

 “Make up your mind, Billy. You can't compliment me and then take it back.” Pushing the book over to him, you shrug your shoulders. “Say what you mean and stick to it.”

 “You didn't get me.” Billy laughs, taking both the book and notebook with a hand. That's when you notice how big his hands are... But why are you even noticing that? You've seen handsome guys before... No big deal.

 “Oh, really?”

 “Really.” You both stand up, and you start walking to the door as he follows you from up close. “I meant you're not easy to get like those sluts and...” He makes a pause when you cross the door, long enough to make you look at him, waiting for further explanation. Is that also part of his strategy? “And, no, you're not pretty. It didn't take more than a second to get to the conclusion that pretty isn't enough to describe you.”

 “Dear God.” You exclaim, laughing. “Are you seriously doing that?” Walking side by side with him, you reach the parking lot. The setting sun casts a beautiful, warm light, that makes you wish you had a Polaroid camera with you.

 “Doing what?”

 “Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you hitting on me, Billy Hargrove?” You stop by your car, turning to look at him.

 “What if I am?” He gives you that smirk again, the ice-melting one. “Would you have a problem with that?”

 “I'm older than you, in case you haven't noticed.” With a bright smile on your face, you state the obvious, because you know it'll send him off. Wipe this stupid idea off his head.

 “How old are you? Thirty?” The sarcasm is mixed with an eye-roll, and the way he keeps staring down at you makes you feel a little anxious.

 “I may be.” Stepping back you glance at your car. You just want to drive home and forget this embarrassing conversation.

 “You look my age, Princess. People here thought you were a new student.” Billy chuckles, and your face starts to burn at the pet name. He probably calls everyone that, so it's plain stupid to let it sink. “But tell me, how old are you?”

 “I'll be twenty-four in a couple of months.” Your voice sounds weaker now because you don't feel so triumphant anymore. But you still hope the five years it'll be enough.

 “So? I'm eighteen. We're both adults.” He shrugs his shoulders, and you sigh. “If it makes you feel better, I'm closer to nineteen than I am to seventeen so...”

 Taking a deep breath, you step back again, wondering what you could possibly say in a situation like this. “Look, Billy, I gotta go. I hope I helped you somehow and that you'll do better from now on.” Walking backwards, you wave at him. “Good luck and remember everything we studied.” Turning around, you get into your car, thanking God for being away from Billy.

 Through the review mirror, you watch as he gets inside his car, a dark blue Camaro. You wait for a while, but he doesn't even start the car. Rolling your eyes, you decide not to think about it. Turning the ignition, you leave the parking lot and hit the streets, relieved that this is all over.

Taglist: @multific

[chewbokachoi]

My Writing

-confetti and fanfare-

At the moment, it's all Mortal Kombat. UPDATE: There's, like, one Babylon 5 in there now!

Song Challenges - As the link explains, I write to a song and that's that.

Ask games - Always open/have no expiration date

Completed Works:

Friday Nights - A weekly ritual between the two, Johnny finds tonight's session is bringing up something he's tried to not think about. AO3 Rating: E Chapters: 4/4 Notes: Johnny/Kenshi piece and the piece that dislodged me from my writer's block and I more or less haven't stopped since (aside from a few hurdles but ya get me)

Good Dog - Shang Tsung has gathered far more enemies than allies. Realizing that he needs somebody to keep an eye out for him, he decides to hire a bodyguard. By chance, Shang Tsung arrives just in time to hire Bi-Han, a down on his luck man-for-hire. What Shang Tsung didn't expect was for this man of ice to be immune to all his usual tricks and charm. He doesn't want to admit this draws him to his guard. And on the flip side, Bi-Han didn't think he'd ever break his no-attachments rule with the likes of such a fragile mad scientist. Inspired by the amazing art of @eo03o AO3 Rating: E Chapters: 5/5 Notes: I liked their dynamic too much and am too proud of all the random Easter eggs.

Sublimation - Five years since Bi-Han's betrayal and nothing has gotten easier. Earthrealm continues to need its defenders and everyone's starting to feel the strain. But Tomas is feeling another type of strain--he's been treated like a child more than the second in command of the Shirai Ryu as of late. When Liu Kang tasks Tomas and Hanzo to return to the Lin Kuei library, destroyed during the schism, they are ambushed by Bi-Han and Shang Tsung, who offer Tomas up to an Enenra with hopes to control it.

Things, of course, do not go according to plan. Tomas is saved by Hanzo, but Tomas is once again thrown into a life altering experience he never had a say in. Now he and his friends must learn to live with this new version of their friend. AO3 Rating: M Chapters: 5/5 Notes: Part of a series (that'll get renamed). Part 2 already in the works for it. Commentary

Works in Progress:

But a Patient Wolf - Sequel to Good Dog Shang Tsung gifts "Sai" a chance to exact revenge on Quan Chi, the ringmaster of the traveling circus he once belonged to. With that done, the two flee to Chicago. But their time in the city is cut short when Shang Tsung finally figures out where the strange and mysterious island in the East China Sea is. Bi-Han, the ever-loyal bodyguard, follows his beloved mad scientist to their new destination. There, the two discover a suspiciously preserved library full of secrets and wonders that will push the two and their relationship to the limit. AO3 Rating: M Chapters: 1/5(?) Notes: I fell in love with their dynamic. They're too hard to resist. This story will likely have a different tone than Part One/Good Dog itself, but I hope it's still enjoyable!

The Great Duo: Shang Tsung is woken up one morning to find an ex and six-year-old at his doorstep. She leaves Shang Tsung with a girl who is no doubt his daughter. Initially, he takes her in, knowing it to be wiser to have somebody as smart as him on his side. Soon enough, Shang Tsung finds he not only enjoys having the kid around, but he enjoys teaching her and training her to be just like him. AO3 Rating: T Chapters: 1/3(?) Notes: This one is very much a 'I'll update as the ideas come to me' kind of thing

To Be Haunted: Johnny and Kenshi's relationship has gotten more serious with marriage in sight. Johnny's showing his commitment by welcoming Takeda, while Kenshi still struggles to feel like a good enough parent to Cassie. What should be the next step for the growing family is hamstrung by a strange entity that has made their home its own. Their lives are quickly thrown off balance as Cassie and Takeda grow ill from the creature's presence. Johnny, Kenshi, and their friends scramble to solve the mystery of the entity before it's too late. AO3 Rating: M Chapters: 13/? Notes: I am trying to update it :(

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

Enough, Enough Now.

Summary: You're getting married! Why can't you stop crying?

Jason Todd x ExReader

2.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Only. Chocking, Oral, angst, HAPPY ENDING. Dick Cameo, Kate Cameo.

Enough.

"Hey kid, how you feeling?" Kate asks as she steps into the bridal suite, "holy shit, you look good." She smiles as she takes in your wedding dress, the fancy style of your hair and the exquisite way you've done your makeup. 

"Kate, i-" you turn to her, tears already welling in your eyes.

"Oh kiddo," she rushes forward, embracing you in a tight hug, her fingers gently brushing the tears as they start to fall, "you know you don't have to do this."

"I know, I know," you start to sob into her shoulder, "I want to. It's just-"

"Jason." 

"Yeah, I feel like he's here. Like he's watching me, still."

"He's not here." She pulls you back, holding you by the shoulders, "It's only us. Dicks on his way, but Jay-"

"I feel like I'm doing the wrong thing," you confess, deflating into an armchair, "I just- is this even fair to marry him when-" 

"Look at me, kiddo." Kate says sternly, smiling down at you when your eyes meet, "This life, it's not for everyone. I think you're smart to get out. God knows I wish I had."

"I still love him."

"It'll pass."

Meanwhile on a rooftop across town.

"Figured I'd find you here." Dick smirks, his face taking up the full view of Jason's scope, "thought you weren't coming little wing."

"I'm not. I'm just here to make sure she's alright."

"Let me take a peek." Dick pushes him out of the way so he can stare down the scope, noticing how you're held in Kate's arms, "doesn't look okay to me."

"I know. She's been like it all morning."

"Go to her."

"Dick, I can't. You know I can't."

"Why not? Just tell her you love her and steal her away. Shit man, I'll help you."

"She's getting married! It's not like-"

"Like what? Like you still love her? Like you know that she loves you. It's easy."

"It's not easy. She deserves better than me Dick. Someone safe and fucking normal like Dr whatever his name is."

"I thought you'd know better than to tell a woman what she deserves."

"It doesn't matter anyway." He says with a sigh, sliding down the guard rail and pressing his face into his hands, "it's done, she's getting married Dick. Whatever I want, it doesn't matter. It's too late."

"It's not. Never is, little brother."

The Bridal Suite.

"Sorry I'm late, got caught up," Dick smiles as he walks into your room, giving Kate a quick high five, "time to tag out Katie, I got it from here."

"Good luck, she's a mess." Kate says, grabbing her coat and a glass of wine, "I'll see you in a few." She kisses your forehead, wrapping her strong arms around your head and giving it a squeeze.

"Thanks Kate," you wipe the tears away, "I'll be alright."

"Course ya will. I'm here now." Dick beams, encircling your waist and pulling you into a hug.

"Have you seen him?" You blurt out as soon as Kate exits the room.

"Yeah. I saw him."

"He's here isn't he? I can feel him."

"Aren't you marrying someone else?"

"Yeah," you sigh, "guess I am."

"Good. So tell me, is this really what you're wearing?"

"Fuck you! This dress is perfect."

"Dude, you look like a cloud."

"I do not!" 

"Kind of do. Like a big white fluffy cloud."

"Don't be a dick on my wedding day." 

"Comes with the name."

"Whatever, we should get going."

"I just need to go to the bathroom." He smirks, "don't wanna have to pee during and miss the ceremony." 

"Fine. Actually, could you help me? I was going to ask Kate, but-"

"How do we do that?"

With a lot of maneuvering and lifting and twisting of your fluffy cloud dress you finally manage to get yourself on the toilet with Dicks help. 

"We're late." You mutter looking down at your phone. Noticing that you still haven't heard from him. Not a message or a call or anything. 

"Let's go then. Wouldn't want the cloud Princess to be late."

"You're not calling me that." You glare at him.

"Of course, Miss Cloud.” he extends your elbow for you, “Now let's go get you married." 

The walk down to the large greenhouse has your hands twitching, your nails digging into the nook of Dicks arm as you approach Eli and the rest of your life. Are you making a mistake? Fuck, why does it feel like you are? Like you should be walking down to meet someone else. Someone taller, bulkier, eyes blue as the sky that's shining through the windows.

"It's all right, Cloudy. It'll be ok." Dick squeezes on your hand, "I can help you run if that's what you want."

"No. I just-" you shake the thoughts from your head, "nerves."

"No need for that, puff n fresh." 

"You're right."

"Righter than you think," he smiles as he presses a soft kiss into your hair, before pulling the veil over your face, "Open the door." He says to the attendant who's standing by, "she's ready."

The door swings open and your eyes are already downcast. You're thankful for Dicks sturdy arm leading you down the aisle. You can hear Selina, her gentle voice coming from the left, telling you how pretty you look. Dicks hand squeezes yours as you feel water starting to fill your eyes. This is wrong. That you shouldn’t be doing this. It’s a mistake. You stare up at Dick to tell him as much, but he only gives you a reassuring smile. He releases your hand to rest his on your back, "I got you." He whispers, "it's alright."

"I-"

"Just a few more steps."

You keep your eyes on Dick as you stop. Unsure you can even look Eli in the eye and tell him no. You can't.

"You're not here to marry me," Dick smiles, trying to pry your hand from around his arm, "turn around, little cloud."

You give him a nod,  turning in place to face Eli. Your eyes still downcast when you notice heavy combat boots in place of Elis signature loafers. Your eyes travel upwards, the suit pants are wider though just as black. You fixate on the strong hands that reach down for your veil, unable to look up. Are you imagining this? Is your heart going to fall onto the floor when your eyes meet his?

"I'm up here, Kitten." Jason's low voice whispers as he drapes the veil over your hair and his fingers hook under your chin, "look at me."

Hesitantly, your eyes travel up as he lifts your jaw, "Hi." Jason beams at you, "sorry I was late."

"You- we." You fling your arms around the back of his neck, your dress poofing out behind you as he holds you so tight you think you might split in two. "Grayson." You mutter into Jason's neck.

"You're not mad?" Jason asks right into your ear. 

"Did you kill him?"

"No, Dick paid him off. Which was surprisingly easy."

"Asshole." 

"Idiot. I wouldn't trade you for anything." He starts to kiss into your neck. "You wanna get married, Kitten?" He asks as he sets you on your feet, "be a shame to waste such a pretty dress."

"Yes."

"Good girl. We can sort the rest out later."

You can't stop smiling, the world seems to have gone from the wrong way up to spinning so fast in an instant. You're disappointed in Eli first of all for being so easily bought. But you can't be mad at Dick for what he did, though the uncertainty of what's going to come after this is niggling at the back of your mind. The voice is small, almost inaudible under the joy in your bones.

As the night draws to a close you say goodnight to all your guests, which with Eli's family bailing amounted to about 10 Wayne's and a few of the friends you'd made in town. 

"This our room?" Jason asks, scooping you up in his arms as you open the door, "it's nice. But you know what'd be nicer Kitten?"

"What's that?"

"Letting me unwrap my wedding gift."

"Jay I-" 

"Come here," he sits down on the edge of the bed, his arms reaching out for you, "Good girl, now turn around."

"I'm the gift." You realise as you spin and his lips land on your shoulder.

"Yes, the best gift Grayson has ever gotten me." His fingers work slowly to untie the corset back of your dress, gliding in and out his breath growing heavier with each tug on the ribbon. "Step out," he says holding the skirt wide for you, "now turn around." He scans over the tiny bodysuit, the white lace wrapping around you in all the right places. His lip is almost bleeding from how hard he's biting down on it.

"Can I undress you?"

"Yes, my beautiful wife. But I want to hear you say it."

"Please," you kneel down, your hands skating up this thighs, "my perfect," your get his belt undone with one flick and yank it form his pants, "handsome," you unbutton him, "sneaky, wonderful husband," he lifts up letting you pull his pants from you, "please can I undress you."

"Such a good wife." His hand weaves through your hair, "you want to suck my cock?"

"Mine now." You smirk up at him, licking at his head as he starts to grow in your hand.

"Yes Kitten." He thrusts up into your mouth, "all yours." His hand tightens in your hair, pushing himself further down your throat. "Fuck you're so good at that, Kitten." He moans, your pussy quivering at the sound. "Yes- yes- fuck. Just like that." 

You lick at the underside of his cock, sucking at the tip as he withdraws. Your nails biting into his thighs as you fight to breathe through your nose. Your pussy aching and pulsing with every breath he takes, every moan that leaves his lips and the shaky way he calls you Kitten.

"You need to stop." He shakes, trying to pull you from him, "be a good wife and stop." His fingers yank at your hair, drawing you back and smiling at the pout on your lips, "get on the bed." He demands, pulling his tie out and throwing his jacket and shirt to the wayside as you climb onto the bed behind him. "Fuck you're beautiful." He says, sliding his hands down your legs and hooking his fingers into the snaps on your body suit. "How will I get this off you?" His teeth connect with your thigh as his lips work to ease some of the pain.

"Lick me, please." 

"What perfect manners," his head dips between your legs, "how could I deny my wife." His teeth snag on your buttons, ripping them apart until he's finally got your pussy free and he starts to languidly lick and lap at you, "so wet Kitten. This all for me?"

"Yes, always."

"I know. Always." His hand snakes up, flicking the delicate ring on your finger, "you're mine forever now Kitten." His tongue presses into your pussy, fucking into you. His thumb presses on your clit, and you can already feel your body start to tingle. 

"Jay- fuck." You arch down into him, pressing your pussy into his face. But he pulls back, his eyes searching yours.

"Kitten." He says in a low warning tone as his fingers press at you. "Say it." You start to squirm under him, "say it wife and I'll give you what you need." He palms at his cock as his fingers press into you deeper, "you can do it."

"Daddy." You moan as his fingers fill you and he presses his lips to yours, "fuck me, please fuck me."

"Again."

"Daddy please I need you to fuck me." You beg, your nails clawing into his shoulders to try and bring him closer.

"Good girl." He wraps your legs around him, his cock slapping down onto your clit, "my pretty wife." He slaps it again before lining himself up, his fingers gripping his base.

"Fuck, Daddy." You cry as he presses into you with one thrust, "fucking burns." 

"Going to fuck you like this every night." He pants, picking up one of your knees and throwing it over his shoulder, "make up for- Uh, fuck. Make up for all the nights we've been apart."

"Too many."

"Way too many." His hand gently holds your face as he starts to fuck into you. Your boobs bouncing from the force of him, your hands gripping tight on his arms to keep you in place. "Got a lot to make up for, Kitten. Starting now," his longer fingers rub at your clit, your pussy starts to pulse as you cry out into the night. "Give it to me." He moans, he brings you higher so he can fuck down into you, "give me my cum." 

You moan into his mouth as your release floods his cock, the wet slapping sounds ringing in your ear as you start to see stars, "too much," you pant as he goes harder and faster.

"More, give me more pretty wife."

"Can't."

"Yes you can. You can take it." His hand slides from your chin around your neck, "cum again and again for me. Make me fill you up."

"Deeper," his hand releases your throat for a second, picking up your other leg and pressing his cock even further inside you. Grinding down and rearranging your guts as his tongue swirls inside your mouth.

"I love you, little wife." He moans into your mouth.

"I love you," you pant back, grinding up into him, "love you so much it hurts."

"Can feel you getting close again. Let go, tell me you love me and let go. I got you. I got you forever."

"I love you, fuck. Right there. Yes. I love you," you brain starts to fog as you're overwhelmed with Jason, with pleasure and the reassurance that he's not leaving this time. You spasm, your muscles locking into place, toes curling and your back arching as you shiver underneath him. Jason's cock pulses, throbs and releases inside you, sending another wave of pleasure over you. 

Your body goes limp, your mind dead as you attempt to catch your breath. Gently Jason lets go of your legs, his body rolling you on top of him as he pants beneath you. His fingers rubbing through your hair as you bask in the afterglow.

"Are you ok little wife?" He asks in the softest tone you've ever heard.

"Wonderful."

"Good, get some rest." 

"What happens now? Are you going to give him up?" You say, already feeling sleep pricking at your eyes.

"We'll talk about it in the morning. I think I found a compromise."

"Not going back to Gotham." You admit, wondering if maybe you should have had this discussion before, ya know impulsively getting married.

"I wouldn't ask you too. Dicks got a plan."

"Are we joining the circus?" You ask, nuzzling into his chest. His strong arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

"Oh, little wife. You joined the circus the second I laid eyes on you."

Taglist.

@lovelyrissa @megumisbabymomma @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics

AN: My brains kind of broken at the moment so im just going through and finishing all my WIPS

[galaxyedging]

No outbreak Joel Miller x inexperienced f!reader

Dave York x inexperienced f!reader

WC:3.9k

Summary: With the summer coming to an end, Joel teaches you one more lesson.

Warnings: Unprotected P in V sex. Protected P in V sex (explicit, to make up for all the unprotected sex. Use condoms!) Rough oral m!receiving. Swearing. Talk of adultery. Dave York.

Summer Schooled

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Masterlist

It turns out Sarah was actually ill. Just a little tummy bug but it kept her home for a couple of days. When she was starting to recover on the second day you'd dropped in to visit her. 

"Hey!" She'd perked up as you entered the living room where she lay in a nest of blankets and pillows. 

"Hi. I wanted to come check on you. My mom made you some soup." You gestured over your shoulder to where you'd handed the container to Joel in a very awkward interaction. Joel hadn't so much as texted you in the last couple of days so when he opened the door neither of you were sure what to say. He'd made polite conversation, thanked you for the soup, then invited you in to talk to Sarah. 

"Thank you. You wanna stay and watch a movie? We're bingeing bad action movies."

Hesitantly, you looked at Joel. He gave you a half shrug and waved his hand as if he was pushing the ball into your court.

"Yeah. I'd love that. I've missed you this week." That was true, you had. 

When you leave you are going to miss Sarah and the York girls. They're all going to grow up into such amazing women. Funny, smart, strong. Each one has their own distinct little character. They never failed to make you laugh or to come out with something to make you think.

The movie was not even half way over when Sarah fell fast asleep. Her curled up form gently rose and fell with each even breath. Even you standing from the end of the sofa she'd given you was enough to wake her. Joel had tossed his head towards his office to get you to follow him.

"Hey." The same greeting as his daughter but a wildly different tone. He seemed shy almost. With the doors now closed behind him he walked towards you. "I wanted to talk to you before you leave. I kind of got caught up in all of this." His hand came up to rub the back of his neck. "It was Dave's idea to play into all your doe eyed flirting. I know you're not as innocent as you've been making out or I swear to God I would never have touched you, legal or not. I got lost on a power trip. On having you on my terms. I haven't had much luck with women over the last decade. They didn't want to come second to Sarah or third to my business. Which I get…" he caught your eyes looking at him patiently. "...anyway. I just wanted to apologise. I hope I haven't put you off men for life just because…" he trailed off.

Tentatively, you lay a hand on the arm the was now across his chest gripping his other arm. "Because…?"

"Because I was lonely and needed to be seen as more than a father or a contractor. I wanted to be wanted. Fuck, I still don't know if you wanted me or the little fantasy we built up."

"It was definitely you Joel. I liked you plenty before that, because you're a great dad, because you're a competent contractor. It's all very hot. You're very hot, and funny, and smart, and if I were a few years older…"

"Just a few…?" He huffed out a laugh.

"Just a few." You smiled. "I would love to date you."

"How do I know you're not just flattering an old man to get some dick?"

"Because I could go get some old man dick from down the street with a whole lot less work."

"Fair. Make sure you get him tested first though. I did. Twice. I wasn't letting him near you until I knew he was clean."

"I figured you both would. I trust you."

"Just don't go trusting everyone like that." His arm wrapped around you to bring you into a hug. Your hands rested on his chest feeling his heartbeat softly. 

After a moment of just being together in each others arms, you placed a kiss to his lips. "I mean it, Joel. I think you're great and any woman would be lucky to have you." 

Before he could answer Sarah called his name.

Dave's knuckles turned white as his hand gripped over yours on the headboard. If the bed wasn't as sturdy it would have been slapping against the wall from the force of Dave's thrusts. His knees were in between yours spreading them as he took you from behind. The hand that wasn't on yours was working you clit in tight circles. 

"Fuck." He snarled into your hair. "I'm going to miss this pussy. You get so fucking wet…so hot…got me pussy drunk. I just want to keep slamming my dick home. Oh, shit. Ohhh." His cock twitched inside you as felt the warmth of his cum spread. 

For a second you were a little disappointed that you hadn't come yet, then you realised he was still very much hard."Dave?!"

"Little blue pill. I haven't got his pussy for much longer. I'm not wasting it." He carried on his furious pace. There was something about him fucking his cum deeper inside you than made your toes curl and had you coming around him. "Oh, Dave!"

"Oh, that's it. God, the way your tight little cunt clamps down further on my cock…ugh." He dragged you flush against him. The hand from the headboard palmed one of your breasts. He rolled your nipple in between his fingers. His lips sucked at your neck. Twice you'd had to yank his hair to stop him leaving marks. He'd playfully nipped at your ear before moving his lips to kiss somewhere else. He pushed you over the edge twice more before finally beginning to lose his erection. 

When the two of you collapsed on the bed it was odd how your instinct was to find your own space. Even with the oxytocin coursing through your veins giving your vision a rosy tint, you didn't feel the need for any more physical contact. Unlike with Joel where you craved his gentle touch.

"Well I think that's all the lessons I have in me today." Dave slowed his breathing as he lay on his back, his cock soft against his thigh.

"Lessons? You don't seem to be teaching me much. You just rail me." You laughed through your panting.

"Just rail you? Some women would kill for me to just rail them."

"You know what I mean." You slapped his bare chest.

"Up. I gotta change these sheets before Carol gets back." He held out his hand to pull you to your feet before setting to work.

"Why do you cheat on her?" The question was out of your mouth before you thought about it. 

Surprisingly, Dave stopped and sat on the bed, the half bundled up sheets in his hands. He wrang them as he spoke. "I don't think of it as cheating. It's like we're in an open marriage, we just haven't agreed on it out loud. Carol's had her fair share of men."

"So why not talk to her?" You took a chance and sat next to him, just close enough to provide some comfort with your presence.

"I might not be in love with her but I love her. I'd miss her if she were gone. She's family. I'd miss the time we spend together with the girls, as a family. I can't risk that." He turned to look you in the eyes as he spoke. Those brown eyes were so full of sincerity you almost reached out to hug him. Almost.

Bringing yourself back from being lost in his eyes you asked. "Isn't fucking me in her bed risky?" 

"No, that's just sex. Talking about our relationship. That's the risk. That's where things can snowball. I won't do that to my girls."

Again you softened just a touch towards him. Enough to place the barest of kisses to his cheek. "You're a good father, Dave. You're not winning any awards for being a good person but you're a good father."

"Thank you." It was sincere. The two of you sat in the moment. A softness sitting between you that had never been there before. It was pleasant until Dave broke it. "Right. Up. I've got to wash your cum out of my wife's sheets." The playful smirk on his face showed you this was him slipping his mask back in place.

Friday night rolled around. This time on Sunday you'd be in your new home, ready to start your new life. It still didn't seem real. The last couple of years the itch to get out and see the world had been under your skin. Now you were close to finally scratching suddenly it was more of a subtle tingle that you could ignore. Being here with Joel, and Dave, seeing a new part of the world with them, that could be it for now. They could satisfy your wanderlust, as well as a few other lusts. College could wait a year. You could try to romanticise it all you wanted, the truth was cold feet were setting in bad. When Joel called you to look after Sarah you were relieved to have something to distract you.

The Miller's front door opened to reveal Joel. He was freshly showered, his damp hair was slicked back. He looked so good that you had to remind yourself that you were here for Sarah not him. Although you might have worn your short, button down tea dress hoping for even a quick moment with him.

"Hi, Mr Miller." You called Joel by his first name plenty of times in front of Sarah but putting up the pretence of respecting your elders helped to keep you from sliding into other habits with Joel. The last thing you wanted to do was slip up and touch him in front of Sarah.

The door closed behind you seconds before your back met it. Joel was crowding you up against it. His lips crushed to yours, his hand in your hair tugged sharply to open your mouth so he could fill it with his tongue. His other hand worked at pulling down your panties before two thick, calloused fingers skimmed your thigh before being pressed deep inside you. Joel's lips never left yours until the rhythmic pumping of his fingers and the brush of the heel of his palm had you calling his name. 

When he pulled away, leaving you a trembling mess with your panties around your knees being held up by the door, he flashed you that sinister grin. "Dave's got Sarah. He wanted to make up for basically being a piece of shit and stealing more time with you."

Excitement flushed your veins, your heart rate picked up, you felt you were in trouble. Part of you braced yourself when Joel stalked towards you. His chest was almost touching yours when he squatted down slowly, never breaking eye contact, to help you out of your panties. He licked one solidarity strip through your folds before standing up to kiss you. The tang of you on his tongue was electric.

"While he was bragging. He also said you said he doesn't teach you anything. Why don't you tell me what you want for a change? You can be in charge." This Joel was new to you. The predatory smirk was gone. His voice was soft. He wasn't Dom Joel. Or Mr Miller. Or the helpful handyman. This was Joel the equal. The fellow adult. Offering to fill a need.

Tears threatened to form in your eyes. "I'm moving back east, to a new place, I'll have a few friends I can meet up with but other than that I'm on my own in the big bad world. I'll be making my own choice then. Right now, I want you to make my choices for me. I want to be your good girl." 

This Joel gave you a small smile before it twisted and Dom Joel returned. "Oh, you are, Honey. Why don't you drop to your knees for me?" He didn't have to ask twice. His hand came up to cup your chin. His thumb brushed across your lips. "Such a pretty mouth. Why don't you put it to good use for me?" Your eyes flitted to the hard outline in his jeans. "Gone on. Help yourself."

Taking a deep breath to keep yourself together, you got to work on his belt and fly. Pushing his jeans out of the way, the back of your fingers grazed his length stretching his marled grey boxer briefs. The sigh that came from his lips was something you would keep with you for years to come. Literally. The world felt so out of your control at the minute, everything was out of your hands no matter how many lists or plans or vision boards you made. Right now though, as your hands slipped into Joel's underwear to pull out his heavy girth while his breath hitched in his chest, you felt pretty damn in control. 

Starting at his balls you licked a strip right the way up his entire length. He tasted a little musky but there was a cleanness there. His skin smelled faintly like his soap. The tip was salty and tangy due to the pre cum there. It was truly intoxicating. His body wanted you. It was getting ready to slip inside yours. You lapped at his slit for more. Joel's hands had been retrained at his sides, once you wrapped your lips around the head, all bets were off. Both of them buried in your hair. "Jesus. Such a good little whore."

The praise had you squirming at the leak between your legs. "You're treating me so well. Maybe I should do something for you. Remember when you nearly choked on Dave's dick?"

Your throat tightened at the memory, Joel felt it. "Ssshh. It's okay, Darlin'. We'll take it easy." One of his hands held the back of your neck while the other softly brushed your hair back. "Just breathe." Gripping the base of his cock he fed it forward. Each vein rippled over your stretched lips. The weight of his hard length on your tongue made you want to suck. Joel groaned and rolled his hips for a moment. "Naughty girl. Trying to distract me. Now you have to take it deeper. Give me your hand." He peeled your hand off his thigh and made a fist with it. "Now, squeeze it, and press your thumb here. Keep breathing through your nose. Nice and slow. There you go. Oh, shit."

The blunt head of his cock pushed at the back of your tongue kicking in your gag reflex. Concentrating on your fist and breathing slowly you were able to fight it off. Until Joel pushed just a little too far. That time you gagged and coughed around his cock. A line of spit connected your lips to the head when Joel pulled out. "Good girl. You did so well." He soothes as you still spluttered. "You're going to have to do better though." He pulled you up by your hair to push his cock past your lips. The roughness of him made you weak for him. In that moment you would have given him anything. It's freeing to feel like you can completely hand yourself over to him. It's the same with Dave. You trust both of them not to hurt you, even in an effort to keep up their illusion of complete control. He was able to thrust a few times, taking you to the edge of your comfort zone before you gagged again. Once you composed yourself, he held his mouth watering length in front of you. "Do you want more, Baby?" 

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you nodded up at him. "Oh, my good girl. You'll get more." 

With an ease born from his strength, Joel swept you up into his arms.  Laying you on the sofa he slowly undid the buttons of your dress and pushed it off you. His fingers slid under the lace of your bar to push it up.Once your breasts were exposed to him he set about licking, kissing, sucking, caressing every inch as if he was committing them to memory. Maybe he was, you brushed the thought away and gave yourself back over to his touch.

"You're so fucking beautiful. You know that? Truly beautiful. Never let anyone tell you any different." His tone told you the other Joel was back.

This Joel stripped naked before laying a blanket on the sofa and sitting down. "Here, Honey." He pulled you over to straddle his lap. "You can have all the cock you want but I want you to take it. I want you to ride me. Here." Reaching over to his jeans, strewn over the sofa arm, he fished something from the pocket.

"A condom?" For a moment your heart sank. Had he been with someone else?

"I want you to show me you know how to use one of these. Then I want you to show me you know how to take what you need. Well?"

You could do this. You'd practised on cucumbers and watched videos. Hold his cock at the bottom. Make sure the condom is the right way. Pinch the tip to keep the air out, put it on like a little hat then roll it down. Joel's cock wasn't anything like a cucumber. The cucumber didn't make you wet as you slid your hand down it. Fuck, who said putting condoms on ruins the mood.

"Was that the first time you've done that?" Joel raised an eyebrow.

"On a penis, yes. I have some practice with cucumbers." Both Joel's eyebrows shot up. "Not like that!" You giggled. "Just practising putting the condom on."

"Well it paid off. Now you can slip me inside." 

"How…?" God, you felt stupid for having to ask.

"Just guide it with your hand. Once the tip is lined up you can sink down onto it."

Taking him in your hand you got him in the general area then tried to sink down a little. It took a little manoeuvring to get him actually lined up thankfully your slick aided you in finding the right spot. He slid up along your body until he was notched at your entrance. Slowly you sank down on him until you were full.

"There we go. I'll never get tired of that. You fit me like a glove." His words stung your heart. He was talking as if you had a future. Like he would get the opportunity to see if he could get tired. "Time to move, Darlin'. Take what you want."

"Er..how. How do I…? I mean up and down or…?"

"Do what feels right for you. Just don't go too hard or high if you want to bounce on it. I don't want you to break nothin'. Try lifting up a little and just moving back and forth for now."

"Okay. Thank you." 

"You're welcome." The shy smiles you exchanged seemed completely out of place while he was buried inside you. 

Following Joel's advice you moved your hips back and forth. Each time his hard length tapped against the front wall of your pussy, just brushing shy of that perfect spot. For a while you just enjoyed the steady rhythm. Joel seems to too. He leaned back sighing, settling into the sofa at his back.

When your nerves get the better of you, you break the near silence. "Is that…? Does it feel good for you?" 

"So good, Sweetheart. You always do. Is it good for you?"

"It doesn't quite feel like when you do it." The tiny voice that leaves you doesn't say 'grown woman off to college'.

Joel smiles "I'll take that as a compliment. Try bouncing up and down a little or circling your hips."

Bouncing sounds like the closest to when they drive into you so you gave it a go. Rising up, you dropped back down on him. "Oh, Joel!" 

"There you go. Right there, huh?" 

You rose up to drop down on him again, and again. "Fuck. Joel!"

The head of his cock was hitting that spot just right. The both of you could feel your orgasm approaching. "That's it, Baby. You look gorgeous like this."

Joel's praise and your release within reach made you speed up only for Joel's length to slip out from you. "Shit. Sorry." 

"It's okay. It happens. Keep going." Slipping him back in was even easier this time. Your body drew him in deep. A few rounds of your hips and you got back into the rhythm. Soon Joel started to groan more. The vibration of it was under your palms as you pushed off his chest. His head rolled back on the sofa, exposing that beautiful neck. The warm low light from the lamp caused the sheen of sweat on his skin to glisten. He really was the most handsome man you'd ever seen. 

"Fuck, Beautiful. You're going to make me come. Would you like that? Me, filling this condom up because you ride me..ugh…so fucking well?" His voice was strained. He was so close and it was all down to you.

"Joel. I'm gonna…" A silent scream left you as your whole body lit up from where you were joined.

With your tight cunt milking him Joel couldn't hold out any longer. "Oh. Shit. Shit. Oh. Take it, Baby. Take it." He moaned through his release. 

Part of you missed him filling you, claiming you. One look at his face showed that you had claimed him this time. He looked at you, those big brown eyes filled with something you didn't want to think about. Years later you would accept it as love.

"Right." He cleared his throat. "You know how to deal with the condom when you get up?"

"I think so." Reaching down you held the condom in place as you lifted off his softening length.

"Good girl." He took over, pulling off the condom before tying it off and placing it in the discarded wrapper. "I'm going to put it in Dave's mailbox."

"You wouldn't." You laughed curling into his side.

"I have to admit. I am a little jealous." The look on his face made him look boyish.

"Don't be. He's not the one I'm thinking of staying for." Your nerve failed you and you turned away from him.

His finger was curled under your chin and bringing you back instantly. "Sweetheart, I…"

"I know. It's a stupid idea. I can't base my future on this. It's a nice fantasy though." You offered him a smile before kissing his palm.

"It is." A hand cupped the back of your head, curling you back into his side, holding you close. "You know, this doesn't have to end right here and now. You'll be back to visit your mom. If you haven't found anyone your age, I still think I have a few more lessons I can teach you."

A weight lifted from your chest. "I could be up for that."

Little did you both know that that would be the last time you would ever set foot in that house.

[oneawkwardwriter]

So I had an idea-

A Loki x villain!reader where she is just as smart and sassy and sarcastic as he is

I just want enemies to lovers who are both flirty and maybe something involving magic or the ye old - knife against his throat while pinning him against the wall - (can be from either pov,your choice), anything else is up to you

You can do any genre, it's your choice✨

Can be headcanons or an oneshot or anything you'd want to write, I'm gonna love it no matter what~

Got Here First

pairing: Loki Laufeyson x villain!fem!reader warnings: sarcasm, weapons cuz you can't have loki without daggers, both loki and reader being low-key i'm so sorry obsessed with the tesseract... and with each other... and themselves (they have issues, we get it) summary: loki finally gets the chance to steal the tesseract... only to realise it's already been stolen by you a/n: considering my last fic kinda felt like a total disaster, this is my amends. Honestly, I had a little too much fun with it, so I hope you enjoy it wc: 0.9k

After having to wait for what felt like an eternity, fate had finally begun to be kind to Loki. He had managed to dismantle the guards outside of the artefact room, who were currently knocked out on the floor.

Carefully, he snuck into the room and looked around until his gaze fell on the one artefact he had been yearning for ever since he first laid eyes on it; the tesseract.

It was placed on a pedestal at the end of the long hall, glowing with its eerie blue light, casting shadows around it. Loki approached it, and after looking at the cube for a moment, he picked it up.

When no alarm seemed to go off or boobytraps were activated, he smiled. It felt too good to be true... and he realised it was when he saw a small sliver of paper lying on the pedestal that had been covered by the artefact.

As he inspected it, his eyes widened in shock, causing him to drop the tesseract, which shattered upon impact. In delicate handwriting, the paper said:

Sorry, darling Guess I got here first Better luck next time With love, the better villain

Loki crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it away, looking at the shattered glass now scattered on the floor. It turned out that the tesseract had been replaced by a fake cube, enchanted with a glamour spell to disguise it in plain sight.

He knew exactly who had been bold enough to take what was supposed to be his, and he knew where to find her.

"Heimdall, I need to use the Bifröst," He said as he stormed towards him.

"And where to?" Heimdall asked.

"Vanaheim," Loki answered, "I need to retrieve what is mine."

You were sitting on your throne when the massive wooden doors to the hall opened. Unable to supress a smirk from forming on your lips, you softly chuckle when you see Loki burst in.

"Ah, there you are," You say, mercilessly teasing him, "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"Give it back," Loki scowls, shooting you a glare that would've ended your life if looks could kill.

"Well, it's great to see you, too, doll," You mock, your grin growing wider. "Anyway, I have to say I'm a little surprised you kept me waiting this long. I mean, I've had the tesseract for like a month now. Don't tell me you've lost your ability to steal things, have you?"

A low chuckle comes out of his mouth as Loki shakes his head. "Oh, you are treading on thin ice," He says as he holds out his hand. "Come on, give it back. We both know it's no use to you."

"Yeah no, I think I'm going to hold onto it for just a little longer," You respond, standing up from your throne. "Well, if you could let yourself out, I've got some Vanirs to pester."

Just as you're about to walk past him, he takes hold of your wrist. In a split-second, you draw your dagger and push him up against the nearest wall, keeping your blade flush against his throat.

"I'm only going to tell you this once, Laufeyson, so listen carefully," You say as you look him dead in the eyes, "Touch me again and you'll lose your hand. Got it?"

"No need to get so riled up over nothing, darling," Loki quips, his signature smirk forming on his lips. "Can't we just talk this out like the responsible people we are?"

"You know, you have been called a lot of names, but responsible isn't one of them," You quip back, "I would know, I invented most of them."

"Sounds a little obsessive if you ask me," Loki retorts, "Almost as if you like thinking about me."

A dry chuckle comes out of your throat. "Oh please, don't flatter yourself, not everything is about you," You say, "The only thoughts about you I like are the ones where I beat you. Like with the tesseract, right now. That, I thoroughly enjoy."

"Alright, alright, you're just as egocentric as I am, I get it," Loki says. "Now, if you could be a dear for once and remove your dagger, I'll leave you be."

"Only for you to transform into a snake and slither right back in, yeah right. Face it, Loki; I know you too well."

He raises an eyebrow as his free hand carefully takes hers off his throat. "You know, sometimes you really are the bane of my existence," He says, his eyes locked on yours.

For a moment, it seems as if time has stopped. You don't know how or why, but for some godforsaken reason, it's as if his gaze has a magnetic pull on yours. In your mind, you fight against it. It's just one of his elaborate mind tricks, right?

The way he holds your hand as he takes it off his throat is just to ensure his own safety, that odd spark it sends up your arm is simply a diversion...

"Alright, you can stop your tricks now," You say reluctantly. "I'm not giving up the tesseract that easily."

"Right, the tesseract," Loki says, his voice a little deeper and softer than usual. "That can wait for a little longer..."

Despite your best efforts to resist, that god-awful charm of his manages to pull you closer until you find your lips pressed up against his. Your dagger clatters onto the stone floor, quickly forgotten when his kiss becomes more passionate.

After some time, you both break away for air. Both your lips are slightly puffed, cheeks stained a little red.

"So, about the tesseract," Loki says, a little hoarse.

"Keep dreaming," You say before you pull him back in.

© This work belongs to @oneawkwardwriter, please do not copy this work to any other site or claim it as your own. Reblogs are allowed and appreciated!

Taglist: @unofficialxmarvelfreak (to join the taglist, simply leave a comment or message me!)

[cabezadeperro]

Kissing ask: Fox/Mereel 💜

hi anon!

established non-relationship, takes place during the war. unstoppable force (mereel thinking himself a femme fatale) vs unmovable object (fox's customer service persona)

---

Fox’s right hip is on fire. He shifts his weight and breathes through it. Amedda keeps talking at him, his lethorns vibrating with ire. He’s a small, prideful man, and he doesn’t like feeling scared: in the past year, Fox has learned to weather Mas Amedda’s rants, to mostly tune them out. They’re mostly harmless, and they make him feel better, and he’s a nasty piece of work—the happier he feels, the easier it is to deal with him. 

The man’s office is a mess of rubble and destroyed furniture. They carted out his aide’s corpse before Amedda arrived—she was alone when the clever little explosive device hidden in the flowers of the vase was deployed. Parts of her are still stuck to the carpet, to the wallpaper behind Fox.

Fox shifts his weight again. It was bad luck—a bad fall from a balcony. He nods, makes a vaguely agreeable noise when Amedda stops talking, and that’s more than enough—the man resumes talking, his words blurring together.

Skirata hovers just beyond what’s left of the door. He’s leaning against a wall, bucket on, the light blue of his armour out of place in the deep red of the Senate’s everything. He shouldn’t be there—Fox is reasonably sure he is very much not allowed in this area of the building. 

He probably wants to poke at something he shouldn’t have access to; Fox sighs. 

One headache at the time.

Amedda keeps him there for another ten minutes. Fox leaves the room, Mereel falling into step behind him like it’s nothing, like it’s expected and perfectly natural.

Fox sighs again and clicks on the helmet’s internal comms. 

“You are not supposed to be here,” he tells Mereel. “What do you want.”

In a way, dealing with Mereel is more or less like dealing with one of the high end senators: he’s unpredictable and he’s dangerous and he likes shiny things, and he’s not as smart or as charming as he thinks he is.

“Maybe I’m here just to see you,” Mereel replies. Fox snorts. He steps into the first fresher he sees, and isn’t that shocked when Mereel follows him right in. 

The place is empty, as predicted—the whole floor was evacuated after the explosion—but neither of them take off their buckets. Fox tilts his head at Mereel and folds his arms.

“What’s up with your leg? You’re limping,” Mereel continues. Fox blinks.

“I’m not limping,” he tells him. He made sure. He exhales. “Bad fall. What—?”

“Yes, yes. I know.”

They have an—agreement. Of sorts. Sometimes Fox lets him have a tiny bit of something, and Mereel always pays in kind. It works, more or less: Fox knows better than to expect Mereel to be fair, or honest, or truthful. It’s a dangerous game, but it’s one Fox has learned to play well. 

Mereel wants to have a look at the device. Fox dangles ten minutes in the evidence locker—not alone, never alone—over him until Mereel gives in: he has a disturbingly deep knowledge of Coruscant street gangs, and he hates to share it.

Fox can’t quite understand why Mereel keeps coming to him. He knows it’s partly out of boredom, partly curiosity: for a man who changes faces with disturbing ease, Mereel is not as hard to understand as he thinks he is. He likes poking at things to see what they do, he likes attention, he likes getting a reaction, and Fox knows very well how to play hard to get.

He half expects Mereel to push him into one of the empty stalls. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last: it has become a sort of habit. Less than legal dealings in the shadow of the Senate Rotunda, and then Mereel’s hand or his mouth around Fox’s dick in a storage cupboard somewhere. It’s both sordidly transactional and very—comfortable. With Mereel, Fox always knows what to expect.

Not that night. Mereel tilts his head—another comm incoming—and then clicks his tongue. He sighs, and then he’s approaching Fox, buckets bumping with a clattering, overly loud noise.

“Need to go. Get that leg looked at,” he says, and then he steps away. Seconds later the door swings closed after him, and Fox listens to his footsteps disappear down the corridor in the direction of the lifts. Fox checks his belt—he didn’t take anything, didn’t leave any funny little surprises—and then takes off his own helmet.

His own reflection stares at him from the visor. Fox scoffs and puts it on again. Kriffing Mandos.

[smuttyworks]

Do you feel the same? (Part 1) - Brandon Carver x Reader

Carver and Reader have been in a long term friends with benefits arrangement and everything seems perfect to reader, but unknowingly Brandon Carver has had feelings for her since the beginning, but Reader is closed off and never wants to feel vulnerable due to all the loss she has felt. Can they find a middle ground or will everything crumble to pieces?

Warnings- Smut, Fwb, sex lol, im bad at warnings and that's a label on its own, unprotected sex, slight angst

-

Carver’s eyes were locked on you as you fiddled with the small heart necklace you wore, one that belonged to your best friend some time ago. You had no idea about Carver’s constant lingering eyes, not a hint that this wasn’t something new.

You distracted yourself from everything you felt all the time, you had never let your walls down since the day your best friend had passed away in your arms. She was so young, she handled this world like no other. You had always been scared of this world, fear of the walkers and even more towards the evil people that also walked this earth.

But she never was, she was smart and took care of the both of you… always. It was a case of bad luck when she died, a cruel joke almost. But you didn’t like to think of it much, instead you changed, and in your eyes for the better.

The both of you had felt a lot of loss since the world fell, many people you cared about lost their lives and when she died, you didn’t want to feel it anymore. You stopped letting people in since there was a high chance they wouldn’t make it anyways, so the tears stopped rolling, and the feelings stayed away.

But Carver took a real liking to you, not that you had any idea of that since he knew how you were, so the little ordeal you two had was good enough for him until he could get you to open up, if he could.

“You alright?” he asked from across the dull empty cabin. You two had gone on a run to find out if there was anything in a small store Pope had set his eyes on. It was about a two-day trip so Carver and you volunteered to go looking, and were currently trying to get some rest.

You gave him a small nod, “I’m fine.” Your eyes met his after a few seconds of silence and gave him a little smile, “Happy we have some time alone finally.” You giggled, biting your lip lightly. You and Carver were what is called friends with benefits and in your eyes it worked out good for the both of you, but in Carvers eyes he wanted more, but you didn’t know that.

He chuckled and leaned back against the wall, “Come.” You lifted yourself from your corner of the cabin and crawled over to where he was, the lust in his eyes starting to drive you wild. You liked that Carver was happy with what you guys were, you didn’t want anything that could leave you vulnerable, you wanted simple, easy. 

You crawled into his lap and started kissing his neck while running your hand up his strong, hard chest underneath his shirt. He groaned and gripped your ass with his one hand and holding your thigh tightly with the other, showing his need for your body just as much as you needed his.

With your free hand you slipped under his pants and started running his rock-hard length over his briefs, enjoying the small groans and breathy moans coming from his mouth. “Did you miss this?” you giggled against his skin.

The two of you hadn’t had a moment to unravel like this in weeks, and you had started getting agitated with the lack of release until you both were able to volunteer for this run, and both of you were so excited to say the least. You both tried to keep your relationship on the down low so it didn’t effect anything in your life.

“Fuck… you have no idea.” And you really didn’t have any idea how much he missed it, and if it was up to him, he would be by your side all the time, not caring who knew about the two of you. But Carver knew if he pushed you too far or said the wrong words about how he felt about you that you would end things all together, and he’d lose these little moments he had with you, and he wasn’t ready for that.

His hands roamed up and quickly removed your black long sleeve as well as your sports bra next until you were bare from the waist up in his lap, and he loved your body. His mouth connected with the skin of your chest and he left soft kisses all over until his lips met your hard nipples, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth and swirling his tongue around causing moans to escape your lips.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair as you leaned your chin on the top of his head, taking in all the amazing feelings he caused, his other hand palming your breast softly and lightly playing with your other nipple.

The lack of touch the past few weeks seemed to make you more sensitive, making his movements very enjoyable. “Carver,” you breathed, “I need you, right now.” You looked down at him and his eyes met yours, and you saw an emotion you couldn’t pin.

But he quickly flipped you over and laid you on his jacket and pulled your black cargo pants from your body, exposing your dripping core to him. “Fuck…” he moaned, running his finger over your slit and taking your arousal between his lips, something that drove you insane.

Your hands reached up and quickly pulled his dark grey cargo pants down along with his briefs, releasing his hard erection, his size getting you excited, especially since you hadn’t had him In so long. He looked hypnotized by your fully naked body before him, so you reached for him and pulled him down, connecting your lips together instantly.

Carver reached between your legs and positioned himself at your soaking entrance and roughly pushed himself fully inside you, the unexpected intrusion causing a load moan to escape, in which he covered your mouth to keep you quiet, which turned you on even more.

He roughly thrusted into you causing you to moan into his hand, and him to groan with every push, “F-fuck, (y/n)” he breathed, leaning his forehead on yours. The feeling of him entering you was ecstasy, it made you feral. You gripped his band and drug your nails down his back roughly, knowing just what he likes.

His other hand held your body closer to him by the small of your back. He was almost fully pulling himself out of you before roughly thrusting back inside, but you could tell by his movements he was getting close, but so were you. The time spent away clearly affected the both of you, making it hard to not cum fast.

He lifted you and sat you on his thighs as you both sat up, him entering you at a different angle making it even harder not to cum that second. You were face to face with him now and his hands both held you from your back. Carvers lips found yours as you both moaned into one another’s mouths, taking in all the amazing feelings you both made each other feel. 

“Cum on my dick.” He demanded, gripping your ass as he continuously pounded into you. That was enough to kickstart your strong orgasm, sending waves throughout your whole body, in which causing Carvers. He quickly rested you back on his jacket and after you rode out your extremely strong orgasm he pulled out and came all over your sweaty body.

“Holy fuck.” He chuckled, “That was…”

“Amazing.” You giggled, “Never not having sex for that long again.” You reached over and grabbed your extra shirt you packed and started cleaning your stomach off.

“I’m surprised no dead ones heard you.” He smirked, grabbing the shirt and cleaning himself off as well. You both dressed yourselves and you set up your sleeping bag on the other side of the cabin, “I’ve got first watch.” He said, leaning back against the wall.

You turned to him, “Are you sure? You had first last time.” You knew he was tired, but he wouldn’t say it to you.

“Yeah, I got it.” He gave you a small smile. You gave him a small ok before curling up in the thin sleeping bag and closing your eyes.

Carver watched you as you slept, wishing you had set your sleeping bag up closer to his but he knew that’s who you were, you liked your space until you wanted him, it was one or the other and over the year of you two just having sex, he couldn’t control himself anymore, he needed more, he wanted you fully, the good and the bad, he wanted all of you.

-

You woke up to it being completely light out, and the confusion hit you instantly. You were suppose to be up and on watch before the sun was up, did Carver fall asleep? You turned around to see him leaning against the wall while looking out the window. “How come you didn’t wake me?” you asked

He turned his head slightly towards you, “I know how tired you were, just wanted you to get as much sleep as you could.” He said before turning back to look out the window again.

“Oh…” you rubbed your eyes lightly, “Thank you, there’s still time for you to get some sleep, ill watch.” You yawned, standing up and walking beside him to see what was outside the window. You could see a small pond a few yards away neither of you saw yesterday since you had arrived while it was dark. “Pretty.” You smiled, taking in the sun reflecting off the water.

You could feel him look down at you. You turned your gaze to him and he did something unexpected, he kissed you. you were shocked, there was never kissing outside of sex, except one time when you both had just started this friends with benefits relationship and you let him know that it would only ever be sex, so it never happened again.

“Carv-“ you started but he stopped you by deepening the kiss further and gripping the back of your neck with his large hand to stop you from pulling away. “Car-“ you tried again, feeling uncertain with what was happening. He slipped his tongue past your lips and started exploring your mouth, to which you started to give into his advance.

His other hand slipped around your back and held you even closer. “I want more.” He breathed against your lips, “I need more…”

You stopped all your feelings from taking over, you vowed you’d never be vulnerable again, you wouldn’t grieve over anyone, you’d never cry for anyone, you would never be anyone’s… “No.” you sighed, “We aren’t-“ you swallowed, “We won’t be more, we can’t.” your eyes met his and you held all composure, you were going to survive, he wouldn’t, you couldn’t care for him because you were going to lose him, everyone dies but you, so you couldn’t have him close.

“(Y/n)…” he swallowed, “I know you, I know you more than you think… you closed off everyone but I have been watching you since I met you, I know you and I know you are scared you’ll lose me, but you won’t.” 

Your brows knitted as you tried to push him away, “You don’t know anything about me, Carver.” You spat, “clearly you cant be who I need you to be and that’s fine, but just means we are done.” 

He grimaced, clearly hurt by your words but you couldn’t let yourself care, you knew that would be the start of the end. He went to say something but stopped, and then his expression went blank. “We should head out.” He sighed, lifting his bag off the floor, “I’ll wait outside.”

You couldn’t believe what happened, how everything turned so bad so fast, but you composed yourself and started packing your things.

[ephemeral--dreams]

☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────

Consider… Yae and Ayato in love with the same person…

You're one of the Kamisatos' retainers. Ayato does not act on his interest in you at first, but when he realizes your visits to the grand narukami shrine have made someone else gain an interest in you too… Well, he isn't going to let you be stolen out from under him.

Ayato starts his courting acting like a perfect gentleman, much as he appears to be to anyone who doesn't know what he's truly like. It's to lure you in, make you favor him, of course - he's well versed in manipulating people to do what he wants them to…

Then again, so is Yae. She certainly has no intention to lose to Ayato of all people. And surely, someone special enough to gain her attention is also smart enough to realize she's the better option. This, Yae is certain of, and along with her patience she feels little need to rush you.

Still, a little push here and there won't hurt. If Ayato is going to play dirty, so can she. Convincing you to come to the shrine more often, at which point she distracts you for hours talking about novels she's working on and the troublesome matters she's had to deal with lately… And oh, you wouldn't leave so soon after coming, would you? Soon it's nightfall and then she won't let you leave out of "concern for what harm may befall a little human such as yourself traveling at night", so you stay with her until morning. (Though she's far more predatory than anything else out there…)

"Wouldn't you rather go on a little midnight stroll with me then go back to that troublemaker? Oh, don't tell me he's not one, he's certainly always plotting-"

You being gone like this, as expected, always sets off Ayato. Leaving him lonely in such a way, to go see Yae of all people… Despite knowing it was all caused by her, you're the one to pay the price. You'll be saddled with many more responsibilities that day, to "make up for all your undone duties from yesterday", overworked to the point of exhaustion. Though much worse than that is the coldness in Ayato's gaze. If you give in and beg nicely enough for forgiveness, he'll certainly offer it - all while plying you with sweet consoling words about how he'd only been worried about you being gone all night, that he didn't want to have to punish you but you really must try not to get so distracted at the shrine, you know? You're his favorite, so you need to be around to attend to him...

Of course, you're too oblivious to realize either of them are in love with you.

Please imagine Ayaka and Thoma in the background, watching in concern.

Ayato goes with you to he shrine once. He and Miko sit across from each other as you all have tea, tension heavy and passive aggressiveness abound in every word they speak. Yae blatantly flirts with you in front of him. He practically drags you back to the estate with how quickly he gets you away from her.

Then again, he did learn one thing. If you blush so much every time Yae teases you, there's no need for him to hold back his own mischievous tendencies anymore, either.

Good luck. Both of them are going to be constantly getting you as flustered as possible.

"My, but you're so cute when you blush, little one" "Can I be blamed when you're so adorable with that expression?" YOU'RE NEVER CATCHING A BREAK

Ayato can and will take advantage of having money to give you expensive gifts. Rejecting them is not an option.

Yae is more subtle. She'll tell you you'd make a lovely love interest for her new light novel, tell you to say "ah" as she feeds you fried tofu straight from her own chopsticks (she doesn't share her favorite food with just anyone!), take time out of her very busy schedule just for you…

This will likely go on until either you make a move on one of them, or they both get so frustrated that they finally directly state their intentions.

The only question is, who will you choose… Or perhaps they like you enough to tolerate sharing, if you can't pick just one...

────────────────── ☆ ☾ ☆

[sarilolla]

That last fillet really broke my heart, but it got me thinking

In the senecios where only one brother is too late, would that brother go into deep denial?

For example let’s say Floyd’s guilt ran so deep that it’s like his mind broke.

He walks around the bunker cleaning it up because -

“It needs to clean before little Branch is back from playing with his friends”

Walking around holding Branch’s baby blanket but it’s holds it in a way that it seams like he’s holding a baby……

Anyway thanks for the angst brain

Sincerely~ Ghost anon :)

Hi Ghost Anon!!! Thank you for coming with wonderful sadness as always, now it's time to expand on that-

OW- Ouch that hurts, but yeah

I can imagine all four would go in pretty deep denial, but in different ways. Or at least stay differently in the five stages of grief. (Even if grief is not a linear journey and you can jump through the different stages without anything being wrong with the person, as you heal in different ways)

Floyd is as you said, making sure "the hideout" is all safe and clean for his baby brother to get home. He's not completely grey, but he's not colorful anymore either. Holding and cuddling the blanket like he did when Branch was just hatched, and as the proud older brother he was, he wanted to carry the baby everywhere. He would be stuck in denial for a long time, but also bargaining. Not much can pull him out, despite his brothers trying. Poppy, once she processes her own grief more, is probably the person who will have the most luck with him, telling him about the wonderful Troll Branch became.

Clay, I think would also stick around the bunker a lot, but also check on all the traps and such Branch made over the years. He's praising his baby brother for all these wonderful inventions, while part of him is so sad Clay couldn't help cultivate that smart brain and the two of them could have done security for Putt Putt. He leans heavily on Viva, but she's also trying to comfort Poppy (despite the two not fully knowing each other). He would be in the denial stage for a while, but longer in anger and bargaining.

Bruce is a family man, and with so many young kids, he can't fully slip into his grief. He's beating himself up day and night for managing to find a safe place, and not going back for his baby brother so he would be safe too. Brandy would definitely be there, but I think it would take a proper breakdown before he even allows himself to grieve. He would be in denial about as long as Floyd, before he would be full on hit with depression.

John Dory would be devastated. In his mind, this is all his fault. He pushed his brothers and the band, causing them to fall apart, and they left Branch behind. If he hadn't been like that in their youth, maybe Branch would have been alive now? Unfortunatly for his mental health, he seems like the type to hide away both himself and his emotions. He would probably take Rhonda to a deep part of the Pop Forest and stay there, close to where Branch lost his life, but not close enough to cause "more damage". His brothers would have to pull him back, and he would be fully grey. He is also holding tigthyl onto Branch's first hugtime bracelet, a tiny thing that reminds him each hour that he failed. Failed as an older brother. Just like Floyd, it would take a lot to pull him out of the grief. He would also be in the depression stage the longest, on account of denying himself help from others.

Soooo, that got sad-

Thanks for the ask^^