#there will healing if I have any say in this

[homeofthelonelywriter]

A little gamer!Ghost x f!gamer!reader

It all started just a few weeks after you began streaming. Gaming had always been a hobby of yours and after some encouragement from your friends, you created a Twitch account and just started streaming whatever you were playing at the moment. It was truly a variety, going from cozy games like Animal Crossing to more hardcore games like GTFO or Call of Duty. The latter one was where you were randomly paired with him. The infamous, and very popular, Ghost.

He was another streamer, known for his content, but also for his mystic. Aside from the fact that he had the habit of disappearing every now and then, he also never showed his face, only his voice drawing in his thousands of viewers. But it was enough. However, his just as mysterious social media helped. Girls and guys alike were drooling over his shirtless gym pics or the one with just his forearm and hand, the veins protruding. You had to admit, you were one of those girls, although you would never admit it out loud. Especially the ones of him with his helmet on, in full biker gear, in front of his machine? You could stare at those for days.

The moment you saw his name as one of the players in your team, you choked on your drink, almost coughing it up all over your keyboard. The few dozen viewers you had, also pointed out who you were paired with and you just hoped that the low lighting and shitty face cam you had, hid the blush on your cheeks~~, it did not~~. In the beginning, everything went well, as you slowly melted, the more Ghost spoke. As per usual, you had turned off your in-game voice, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself, as a female gamer.

But rather quickly, it was just you and Ghost left. “You got a mic, mate?” Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, about to respond via chat before some courage sparked inside you and you quickly activated it. “Yeah, sorry.” It was silent for a few moments before he answered in a low purr. “’s alright, love. Let’s get those fuckers, yeah?” You couldn’t help but giggle softly while nodding. “Yeah, let’s get them.”

The rest of the round went well and you managed to mostly ignore the comments in your chat, which slowly started to grow with viewers, about how cute you and Ghost were. No way that he would even be slightly interested. With just one opponent left, you were about to take the shot, when your cat jumped up onto your table, startling you. A quiet yelp left your lips, and Ghost’s response was immediate. “Are you okay? What happened?” As quietly as you could, you shooed your cat away, but not without getting shot in-game. “Fuck…I-I’m sorry. My cat scared me and I…shit, sorry Ghost, I…” As your character lied on the ground, you watched as his character came sprinting over. “Don’t worry, lovie. I got you.” He quickly healed you. “There you go, now go get him.” He could have done it, easily. But he let you do it and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The match ended with your team winning and you were about to say goodbye to the mystery when a steam message popped up. Here’s my Discord @ghost.real. Hit me up if you want to play, yeah? With a permanent grin, you added him, before continuing your stream.

While in another match, you were blissfully unaware of what was happening, until a friend who was modding your chat for you, messaged you. GIRL HE RAIDED YOU! Startled, you looked to your right and noticed that she was right. Your viewers were now in the hundreds of thousands, your follows and subscriptions went through the roof as you just watched with a stunned face.

Good night, love. Your eyes followed the message until it disappeared in your chat and you still couldn’t believe what was happening.

Next Part coming soon

A/N: Definitely didn't write this because I'm crushing hard on one of the guys I game with. No, no way. Also, wouldn't mind turning this into a small series, you guys interested? Also, let me know if you want to be on the perma taglist! Just say if you want all of COD or specific characters. Although I mostly post Ghost.

@dravenskye @herefor-tojis-tits @lucienofthelakes @tessakate

[bullet-prooflove]

Sucker: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989@cosmic-psychickitty @ilariyalavorowrites @spooky-librarian-ghost

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Bob Dylan - You help Jack to relax after an incident at the hospital leaves him temporarily blind.

Because Of You - Jack realises he's starting to heal in more ways than one after you spend the day taking care of him.

Balance - Jack reveals his feelings for you but they come with complications.

Off Limits - An awkward start to the day leads Jack to make a claim on your affections.

Hawaii - Jack discovers who he really is when you book a trip to Hawaii.

Silk (NSFW) - Jack loves the sight of you in silk.

Running isn’t supposed to be fun.

It’s supposed to a hard relentless pursuit to maintain peak physical fitness.

A way of training your mind and body…

“Come on slow poke, you’re falling behind.” You call over your shoulder with that devil may care grin and Jack huffs out a laugh because that was his mentality before you, before he got to see that firm Lycra clad ass and swishing ponytail.

If that doesn’t change your perspective on running, well he doesn’t know what will. It’s part of the reason he’s been lagging behind the past half mile during the park run, conserving his speed for the finish line. The other part is the prize he has in mind.

“I’m just a poor old man with a prosthetic leg.” He calls out as you hit the final straight. “How do you expect me to keep up?”

“Oh no Jack.” You say slowing your pace, your eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Is it hurting you?”

His baby, she’s so kind and conscientious. She’s also a complete sucker.

He erupts with a burst of speed sailing past you, the word ‘motherfucker’ hanging in the breeze behind him as he laughs to himself, hurtling towards the tree that marks the finish line. His palm slaps against the bark signalling the end of the race and he turns around in time for you to give him the  middle finger as you do the same.

“You. Are. An. Asshole.” You say as you lean over, your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath. “ A trickerish son of a bitch…”

“Faye.” He says softly and you look up to find his face in close proximity to yours.

It takes you a second to realise he’s down on one knee, that he’s holding a ring in his hand. It’s beautiful, silver with a midnight blue sapphire in the centre, a pinprick diamond on either side of it.

“I won the race honey and you know the rules.” He tells you, the left side of his mouth quirking up into that handsome smile. “Whatever I ask you can’t say no.”

“Jack.”  You whisper, your lips brushing over his as he slides the ring onto your finger. “How could I ever say no to you.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[cherie-doll]

I don’t know if u have gotten any requests like that but could you write about what would happen if the cod men got injured at work and they have to stay at home for a long time with us. Would they freak out like a workaholic or just chill?

Thank u Cherie for being really really awesome ✮

dawg i received this back in december and am just now answering it wth but thxx ^^

𓍊 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

❥ Price always complains about pain bothering him, and he's heard the countless times you've told him to take a break; he needs it. He would always nod and say he would try to get some time off soon. Except this man can be a major procrastinator, and it wasn't until he got badly injured and told by the doctor to take some time off. It was made clear that it wasn't an option but mandatory. So now he's at home, on the recliner without allowed to get up unless to go to the bathroom or move to the bedroom. You bring him all his meals and at first he thinks it's silly how strict you are with him. He had even brought a pile of paperwork to do but you quickly got rid of that. It doesn't take long for him to get used to your coddling him.

❥ Simon didn’t know how much of a break he needed till he slept soundly without interruption, thanks to the pain numbing medication. He awoke the next morning feeling very well rested and for once he didn’t have a certain annoying Scottish waking him up in the middle of the night to tell him lame jokes. Before he couldn't imagine quitting the military, but now? After a period of having slow mornings, enjoying homecooked meals and spending more time with you; he could definitely get used to this. Goes back to work as grumpy as ever.

❥ Johnny is ecstatic to spend some time with you. Since he used up all of his days off and took every holiday, he's sort of glad for getting an injury. Except he doesn't know chill, rest and relaxation are not in his vocabulary. This man enjoys going out, doing things with you, so it is sort of difficult to get him to stay at home. Anytime you're going out to buy groceries, run an errand or even walk down to your mailbox, he's begging to go along with you. Doesn't even want to stay lying in bed if you've already woken up and are having breakfast in the kitchen, like he wants to be in the same room as you. Really tough when it's time for him to go back.

❥ Kyle at first was sort of annoyed for the injury, he's the only one who had gotten hurt out of his team. Everyone else got away with minor injuries, barely a scratch or two, while he got a leg broken. He's complaining at home while you're nodding along, massaging his shoulders and he starts talking slower, melting into your touch. Leans back fully in the recliner and is like "This ain't so bad". Realized he needed that extended break anyways and relaxes. When he goes back he's bragging about how he got the longest time to heal up while his partner took care of him.

❥ Roach was long due for a break. He needed one, and this injury couldn't have come at a better time. Doesn't even mind the pain if it means sleeping in late with you and being able to stay all day by your side. He doesn't understand those who are married and are somehow still workaholics. Like, what do you mean you wouldn't immediately ditch work at any opportunity you get in exchange to spend some time with your partner? Would prefer your caresses over his medication, which he forgets to take as the doctor prescribed. "You'll just take longer to heal if you don't remember to take your medicine." And he doesn't care, it means he might be able to extend his leave.

❥ Alejandro feels restless, wanting to move and do something. He was fine being able to lie around the house for the first couple of weeks. No longer was he groaning and complaining about how he never was able to get time off, he was resting well now. Except since he's spending so much time inside his house, he's starting to notice things that need to be fixed. You're catching him on a ladder changing a lightbulb, fixing a door that makes too much noise when it opens and closes. You tell him to go back to resting, but he feels like he's gotten all the rest he needed. He's also asking the doctor how much longer he has to stay home, truth is he's just missing his work boyfriend Rodolfo.

❥ Rudy would chill at home during the time he's given off. Loves you taking care of him and leaves work at work, like he's telling anyone who calls asking where he's at, he's resting at home like the doctor said. Doesn't wish for more time off nor is rushing either The doctor thanks his lucky stars he got a normal patient who isn't moving too much or slowing down his healing process. When time is up he's getting up and starting to get ready to head off again.

❥ Phillip was sort of stressed at first, because if he isn't there to take care of his Shadows then who else would? He's always been there for them, either in the front lines with them or behind the scenes making sure they're alright. But now he can't even be on base to see them? He's going to different doctors hoping one of them would tell him something different than the same thing the last five have said... how he needs to rest and not strain his body. He appreciates you being with him though, if there's one good thing out of this is that he can't deny his favorite thing in the world is being next to you.

❥ Makarov either takes it really well, knowing that he needs to lie low anyways or, he sees this injury as an interference to his plans. It really just depends on the timing of things. But either he's wayyy too laid back for your liking, for God's sake he nearly lost a limb! Or he's itching to go back out there, literally being held back by you and the doctor who prescribes him a ton of medication because he's slowing down the process of healing by getting up and doing stuff.

❥ Keegan isn't a workaholic by any means but he prefers to stay busy. For as long as he's been in this, he's taken on almost every mission and task that comes his way. He doesn't shy away from it and doesn't let no small injury get in his way. That sort of changed when you came along though. He no longer had to change his bandages alone while at home, no longer had to struggle to make a meal if his hand or arm was injured. He felt a sort of warmth from you that no comrade could provide him with. So, he would be content healing at home.

❥ König is a big guy. Big guys like him don't get knocked out by just any small wound. Which means that the fact that he got sent home to you means he must've been hurt pretty badly. You were worrying until the doctor told him it was a problem König had been ignoring for several years. Turns out all those muscle aches he frequently got weren't just from working out or going out on missions, it had been an underlying problem. He was too busy groaning in pain to even consider doing any strenuous activity, so he wasn't too anxious.

❥ Horangi probably didn't even get an injury bad enough to give him time off but decided he wanted a vacation and caused himself an even worse injury just so he'd have justification for going home. He isn't lazy by any means but when he's tired and wants rest... you better not be counting on him to do anything for you. Actually, he wouldn't even let you get anything done. He'd pull you away from doing the dishes, doing laundry or even trying to care for him. "I can take care of myself" and if you really insist then he'll tell you the only option you have is to stay cuddled up next to him because that's the only way he'll feel better. His corny ahh

❥ Nikto barely registers his injury after it has been treated by the nurse, so it likely confuses him when he's sent home to rest up. He feels fine? Doesn't know why you're fussing over him either, but he welcomes the extra hours to catch up on some much needed sleep and time with you. He's learned to not take it for granted and even leans into your leniency to eat in the living room while watching tv in his boxer shorts knowing you won't say anything about the mess he's making. You're more worried about him healing anyways.

[wandaslovey]

casual, ‘silly’ ways mommy!wanda likes to dominate you:

i say silly loosely because none of these things are silly to her..

she always makes sure you floss once a day, everyday. “dental health is very important, (y/n),”she insists every time you fight her on it.

she doesn’t let you pick at your face, or any other area on your body for the matter. whether it be a pimple, a scab, a bug bite - you’re not allowed to pick at it. she wants everything to heal in due time the proper way.

she always corrects your posture if you’re slouching too much. despite the fact that you insist on slumping over your homework at the table, she is persistent in reminding you to sit up. she doesn’t want you to get a back hunch after all.

wanda doesn’t so much subscribe to the whole “breakfast is the most important meal of the day” thing, but she is firm on the fact that you must have at least one meal everyday. even if it’s small, she wants to make sure you always have food in your tummy.

she doesn’t like you to curse. this isn’t a firm rule of hers, but she does micromanage your language when it gets too out of hand and you’ve used 3 different cuss words in one sentence. you’re supposed to be her proper little thing, remember?

you can only get drunk on very special occasions. she isn’t opposed to you having a small glass of wine at dinner, but as far as drinking to get drunk, she has you on a short leash. little girls like you shouldn’t ever be getting drunk anyways, so you should be lucky she lets you get drunk at all.

[giuli4nna]

GIRLDAD!HAMZAH HC’S ᥫ᭡

requested by / based on this ask

girldad!hamzah who.. calls you ‘mama’ even when your daughter’s not around. as in, ‘mama, when’s she going to that birthday party?’ or ‘mama, where’s the jellycat mandy got for her?’

girldad!hamzah who.. keeps your daughter’s drawings folded in his wallet like they’re more important than any possible amount of money. when she gives him a new one, he replaces the old one without making a big deal out of it.

girldad!hamzah who.. always gets her out of her car seat gently, even when she’s knocked out and totally limp. you hear him mutter ‘got you, baby.’ it’s barely audible, but your heart clocks it every time.

girldad!hamzah who.. rolls his eyes when mandy wants to take numerous group photos with martin and all the pets, but still makes sure to save every one where you and your daughter are smiling. later, you catch him setting his favorite one as his phone background.

girldad!hamzah who.. doesn’t plan playdates, yet somehow ends up hosting them. you’ll blink and suddenly there’s three toddlers in the apartment, organizing a makeshift tea party. he’s sitting in the middle of all of it, telling you ‘i don’t even know whose kid that is.’ he’s just proud that his daughter is so popular.

girldad!hamzah who.. always tells your daughter ‘go ask mama’ when she wants something outrageous, but secretly already said yes in his head. he just wants you to feel like the final word. you see him smirking every time she comes running up to you.

girldad!hamzah who.. doesn’t say it out loud, but sometimes watches her sleep and gets hit with that heavy feeling - his mind swirling with thoughts like, ‘what if i can’t protect her from everything?’ it passes, but he holds her a little tighter on those nights.

girldad!hamzah who.. never talks about his own childhood much, but whenever your daughter runs to him crying and wraps her arms around his neck - he gives her the comfort he wishes he’d received, like maybe a part of him is healing through her.

girldad!hamzah who.. knows your love language isn’t just words; so he shows up. he attempts to make dinner, tucks her in when she’s sleepy, kisses your forehead when he passes you by. he doesn’t make it a performance - just moves through everything like he was made to take care of you two.

girldad!hamzah who.. always dreamed of having a little girl. he’ll deny it if martin ever asks - but he completely broke down crying in your arms when you two found out the gender. now she’s his reason for living, his motivation for everything.

a/n: these were harder to come up with than i thought <\3

xoxo giulia

taglist: @gulicore @slushedup @arroganceisherfavoritecolor @layzerzlovesu46 @babysitter19 @marixoa @starjely @viennawaiits @a1exaaaa @freakzah444 @anginluv @gabwilliams @sturniyolo @screamertannie @brlwla @yourstrulykiya @thefantastickid @hamzaholic @isathefantastic @divinesturn @forestlv4r @mayapuma20 @ottakugirl @hamzahsbestone @pulcen @rustnroll @venus-planetof-love @nickmillersn1gf @rock678

[gingiesworld]

Hii, l love your angsty fanfics, it hurt in a good way. Here is an idea for a fluff.

How about a fanfic where wanda and R who've always been a bit awkward around each other get stranded in a cozy cabin during a snowstorm? They start out unsure and bickering, but slowly bond over shared stories, hot chocolate, and board games. By the time the snow clears, they're inseparable—and maybe even in love. Lots of soft moments, warm blankets, and emotional healing.

Hope you have a great day

Girlfriend Huh?

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

AN: Hey guys, it's been a while since I've written a light hearted fic so I am a wee bit rusty. Also a reminder that my asks are open of you have any requests or just want to say hello. I hope you guys enjoy this one!!!

18+ MINORS DNI

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

Y/N concentrated as they drove through the wooded path, struggling to see as the snow started to fall heavier. Wanda was sat in the passenger seat, watching the unfamiliar surroundings pass before she turned to face them as they drove. 

"Where are we going?" She asked them, her tone cold. 

"Just one of SHIELD's safe houses, we can't make it back in this storm." They told her, a small cabin coming into sight as Y/N slowed down. "Hopefully it will be clear in the morning and we can head home tomorrow." They told her as they turned off the engine. Wanda only huffed as she stepped out of the car, following Y/N as they approached the cabin door, moving to lift up an old gnome, picking up the key before letting Wanda inside first. "SHIELD has these safe houses all over, just in case any agents are stranded on missions." Wanda only hummed as she moved through the cabin, seeing some old books on a small bookcase in a corner, a log fire and an old worn out sofa. 

"So, we have to stay here?" She questioned, raising her brow. 

"It's just until the storm has passed." They told her, reaching into the bag they had brought with them. "I'm just going to update Fury on our situation, he'll get someone out to us in no time." Wanda only nodded before she moved through the cabin, searching through the cupboards, finding them already stocked with tinned foods. "They also like to keep them all stocked. There is also fresh clothes in the closet, they vary from sizes." They directed her towards the bedroom, opening the door for her. "Just in case you want to change." 

"There's only one bed." She told them, watching as they nodded, pursing their lips before they exhaled. 

"I'll take the sofa." They told her, leaving her to do what she needed to do, Wanda had decided to take a warm shower as Y/N cooked up a quick meal for the two of them. Wanda entered the kitchen, freshly showered and a clean set of clothes, moving to step beside Y/N as they stood before the cooker. "I don't exactly know how to cook properly, so be warned." They teased her, their shoulders deflating as she gave them no reaction. Watching as she reached for the spoon out of their hands, tasting the food before she moved towards the spice rack they were provided. "I guess you can cook?" They tried, hoping to make some conversation. 

"Yes." She answered them, keeping her answers short. 

"Okay then, I guess I'll go and shower while you fix this monstrosity." They shuffled nervously before they turned around and left the kitchen. Ever since Wanda had joined the Avengers, she had only really taken to Clint, Vision and Natasha, but she was still alright with the rest of them. But with Y/N, she was close with them, the two used to spend time together, either watching old sitcoms or reading quietly. They had always wondered why she had pushed them away, practically a stranger to them now. 

"It's ready." Wanda told them, taking their attention from the books. Y/N followed her into the kitchen, taking their bowl and thanking her before they sat down at the table with her. They ate in silence, it wasn't comfortable, nor was it uncomfortable. Y/N was extremely cautious, watching as Wanda ate her food, her expression was stoic as she glanced up and caught them. "What?" She asked them, raising her brow. 

"What happened to us?" They asked her, placing their spoon down as they stared into her eyes. "We used to be so close, we weren't exactly best friends but we enjoyed each others company, we had conversations but now, now it's like you don't want to know me." 

"It's not." Wanda chuckled dryly as she shook her head. "Can we not do this right now?" She pleaded as she rose from her seat, taking the bowls and heading towards the sink. 

"Why not, Wanda?" They questioned, following her and leaning against the counter. "I deserve to know what I did wrong? To make you treat me like a stranger." She watched as their shoulders deflated. 

"Please." Wanda whispered shakily, pausing her movements as her hands remained in the dish water. "Can we not do this, not right now." They shook their head, a dry chuckle falling from their lips as they moved away. Wanda watched as they moved further away. 

"Okay." Y/N nodded, turning around and leaving her alone in the kitchen, she watched as they lit the fire before they moved onto the sofa, watching as they lay down, their eyes remaining on the dancing flames as the warmth filled the room. Wanda sighed, finishing her task before she disappeared into the bedroom, laying down on the bed and pulling the covers over her. Glancing out of the window, watching as the snow came down harder, closing her eyes as she listened to the stillness that surrounded her. Although, Y/N's question replayed in her mind, their face imprinted in her memory, the hurt in their eyes as she didn't answer their question. Truthfully, she is afraid to speak aloud of why she pulled away from them, she feared they wouldn't understand. 

The next morning, Wanda woke to the sound of Y/N moving around the living room, muttering as they paced. Wanda stood and watched for a moment as they continued their movements, worry on their face as they mumbled incoherently. 

"What's going on?" Wanda asked, announcing her presence, Y/N soon pausing in their tracks to face her.

"We are snowed in." They told her, gesturing to the already open door. "I have sent out an SOS to Fury, but there's no saying in when they will arrive." 

"But you said we would go home today?" She told them, her voice rising slightly. 

"I know I did Wanda, I didn't expect to be snowed in when I woke up." They told her, their anger rising slightly. "I've done all I can, Fury knows of our situation and he will get us out of here, but until then we will just have to wait." With that, Y/N headed towards the bathroom as Wanda just looked at the pile of snow blocking the exit. She moved to close the door before she headed towards the kitchen, seeing what to have for breakfast. 

The day went on, Y/N had remained at a distance from Wanda, barely acknowledging her as they sat on the sofa, a book in hand. Wanda watched as they read, flicking the pages the more they read. They raised a brow, not tearing their attention from the book in their hands. 

"What?" They asked, their voice flat as they felt Wanda's eyes on them.

"You have barely spoke to me today." She told them, leaning back in her seat as she watched them close the book, placing it in their lap before they turned to face her. 

"Okay, is there a problem with that?" They asked her, raising a brow as they waited for an answer. 

"You're punishing me." She told them, her voice firm as they just chuckled. "Because of last night." 

"No, I'm just respecting your wishes." They told her, their eyes finding hers. "You were the one who pushed me away first, you're the one who won't even give me an explanation as to why either, so I just don't see the point in trying to make conversation with you if you're only going to ignore me or barely acknowledge my existence at all." They got to their feet, Wanda was staring at her hands, hearing as they grabbed a water from the fridge before she rose to her own feet. Y/N watched as she approached them, standing just before them. 

"You have no idea what happened." She whispered, fighting back the tears that threatened to surface.

"Then talk to me. Tell me how it really was, because I have no fucking clue!" They yelled, slamming the bottle down on the counter, Wanda took a deep breath as she gathered her thoughts, her heart hammering in her chest. 

"I couldn't lose you, not like I lost him." She whispered, her breath catching as her tears started to fall. "I have lost everyone who I have ever loved, everyone who meant everything to me, and you." She took a deep breath, Y/N's eyes never leaving hers as she spoke. "You meant everything to me, you made me feel something more than just the grief and the pain. You stopped me from drowning within my own mind and I was starting to fall and I thought that if I pushed you away, I would stop falling, that it would hurt less if anything happened to you, but it didn't." She wiped her eyes as she gazed into theirs. "It didn't stop it, and I am scared." She exhaled shakily as she continued. "I am scared because I think I love you, like I'm in love with you and I am scared to lose you." Y/N reached out for her, wrapping their arms around her as she cried into their chest. 

"I'm sorry, Wanda." They whispered, their hand rubbing her back soothingly. "I didn't know you felt like that." They moved back slightly, cupping her face as they wiped her tears away. "But you're not the only one who is scared." They confessed, looking in her eyes. "What I have been feeling for you, since the moment you snorted at that scene in that Adam Sandler movie you had me watch with you, the way you laughed, the way your eyes sparkled as you smiled, it was then that something had shifted between us."

"I'm sorry." She whispered, resting her forehead against their chest, their fingers softly combing through her hair. Y/N pressed a soft kiss to her head, fingers still combing through her hair. 

"You have nothing to apologise for." They told her, pulling back slightly to look into her tearful eyes. "It's okay, we're okay." They reassured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, Wanda sighed at the feeling of their lips against her skin. "Maybe, if you'd like we could um try and be something you know, together. Maybe it was a stupid idea, you should just." Wanda cut them off, pressing her finger to their lips, their eyes finding hers. 

"I think we could try and be something more." She smiled, watching as their shoulders relaxed as she moved her hands to cup their face. "Maybe we could, keep it between us for a while. I just, I don't think I'm ready for the team to know about it just yet."

"No, yeah, we can do that." Y/N nodded, swallowing hard as they held her hips, their eyes searching Wanda's as they glanced briefly at her lips. "Can I kiss you?" They asked her, she gave them a smile as she nodded, leaning in herself to meet their lips in a soft and passionate kiss. Both pulled away with wide smiles on their faces, Wanda then reached up and pecked their lips before she pulled them towards the bedroom, pushing them down on the bed as Y/N watched her every move. Wanda wasted no time in latching onto them like a koala bear, Y/N moved to wrap their arms around, pulling her in closer and kissing the top of her head. The two just revelling in each others warmth as they both succumbed to sleep.

As the days passed, Y/N and Wanda were soon heading home, after spending their nights talking and laughing, with some making out, well a lot of it. Natasha was shocked to see Y/N sat on the sofa beside Wanda, the two watching a movie. She raised her brow, observing for a moment before Y/N rose to their feet, heading towards the kitchen and grabbing two waters. 

"What's going on with you and Wanda?" Natasha questioned quietly after she followed behind them. 

"What do you mean?" They asked her, tilting their head in confusion. "We're just watching a movie."

"Exactly." Natasha pointed her finger at them. "You're usually never in the same room as her, I just don't understand the sudden change." 

"We both talked about what happened, why she pushed me away and we decided that we would give our friendship another go." They told her honestly. "I just wanted my friend back, and I have her back, she's right in there waiting for me to continue our movie." Nat only nodded, feeling bad as she remembered how they used to be before. 

"Okay, I'm sorry." She nodded, turning around to head out of the kitchen. "But, just so you know, if it was something more than what you're telling me, I'm happy for you both, you both deserve happiness after all of the bad you've both seen." 

"Thank you." They whispered, nodding as Nat left the kitchen, they then started to make their way back over to Wanda, handing her her bottle of water, she thanked them before she turned to face them. 

"What took you so long?" She asked them, before taking a sip of her water. 

"Nat wanted to know what was going on between us." They answered her, playing with their bottle as their eyes remained glued to their hands. They felt the sofa shift, signalling that Wanda had shifted positions, she leaned her head on her hand as she watched them carefully. 

"And what did you say?" She asked them, her voice calm and steady. 

"That we're just trying our friendship out again, getting back to the way we were before." Their voice broke slightly as they spoke quietly, their eyes still not meeting Wanda's. 

"I'm sorry." She whispered, moving her hand to play with the baby hairs on the back of their neck. "We can tell them maybe? If you want to."

"Do you want to? Are you ready for that?" They asked her, their eyes finally meeting hers, searching for any sign of doubt or regret in her eyes. 

"I am." She gave them a soft smile, moving her hand to caress their cheek. "I am ready for them all to know that I'm your girlfriend." She told them confidently. Y/N raised a brow, a smirk growing. 

"Girlfriend huh?" They teased, earning a groan and a slap on the chest from Wanda. 

"Well, you never really asked me." She countered, challenging them. "We've been on dates and you have yet to ask the question, so yes, I am taking matters into my own hands and claiming you as mine, just as I am yours." She told them sternly, Y/N soon having a goofy smile on their face. 

"Girlfriend." They whispered to themselves, Wanda watched as their smile widened as they gazed intensely into her eyes. "I would be honoured to call you my girlfriend Wanda Maximoff." They caressed her cheek, leaning in to kiss her lips tenderly. 

"Girlfriend huh?" Tony spoke as he leaned against the wall, Wanda buried her head in Y/N's neck as they turned to face her.

"Is it so hard to have some privacy around here?" Y/N questioned, raising their brow as Tony stepped closer to them. 

"Well, this is a communal area, you want privacy, you have your bedrooms." He clapped his hand together sarcastically. "And they have doors that lock." He gasped, feigning excitement. "But on a more serious note in regards to this." He pointed between the two of them. "The bedrooms also have a soundproof option, especially for the more R rated nights or dates. I don't want to be reminded that I currently don't have a sex life because I am a raging idiot." He sighed before smiling at them both. "But I'm happy for you guys. Happy Humping!" He cheered as he left the living area. Wanda lifted her head out of their neck, smiling up at them as they turned the attention back to her. 

"It's good to know that the rooms are soundproof." Wanda smirked, Y/N coughed loudly, choking on air as Wanda just rubbed their back soothingly, her smirk staying in place as they calmed down. "I can kick your ass on Mario Kart." She squealed, jumping off of the sofa and heading straight to their room, Y/N right on her heels as they passed Nat on their way. Tony chuckled to himself after he had an updated on the system, the soundproof being turned on in Y/N's room. 

"What's so funny?" She questioned, Tony just shook his head as he shown her the screen. "Why would they want to soundproof their room? What on earth could they be doing? They were just watching some movie with Wanda." Her eyes widened, Tony nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. "Nooo! They lied to me!" 

"What do you mean?" He asked her. 

"I asked Y/N earlier if there was something going on and they said no." She told him, Tony just chuckled. "I'm gonna." She started to leave the kitchen as Tony called her name. 

"Are you sure you want to that? Right now?" He asked her, raising his brow. "There would be things going on in there that shouldn't see the light of day." He finished his coffee, rinsing the cup out before placing it on the side. "Besides, we can just ask them in the morning, they have some tests to run on their gear and I'm letting them use my lab." 

"I'll be there." She told him, a smirk on her face as she turned away, retreating to her own room. Soon enough, morning came around and as expected, Nat was already in the lab with Tony, waiting for Y/N to enter. 

"Morning." They grumbled, rubbing their eyes as they struggled to hold back a yawn. 

"Someone had a fun night." Nat teased, a smirk on her face as Y/N soon stopped in their tracks, their eyes bouncing between the both of them.

"I did actually." They confirmed, heading towards the spare desk. 

"Yeah you did." Tony spoke excitedly. "Our Y/N/N is finally growing up." He turned to Nat, who matched his smile. "I never thought I would ever see the day." Y/N turned around to face the two of them.

"What are you even going on about?" They asked him, a hint confusion in their voice. "I am grown up, I have been grown up." 

"But last night you were even more grown up." He raised his brow, Nat stifled a laugh at him. "Isn't that why you soundproofed your room last night?" He questioned. 

"NO!" They raised their voice slightly. "We weren't, we haven't done, I don't think we're." They took a deep breath, closing their eyes as they regained their composure. "We were playing Mario Kart, you know how loud Wanda can be." Nat snorted as Tony pursed his lips, trying to hold his own laugh back. "Not like that! We are not at that stage, it's too early for you know." They waved their hands nervously. "Well, anyways we were playing Mario Kart and you know how she is whenever she plays that game, she is both a sore winner and a sore loser." 

"That is true." Tony agreed with them. "I had to resort to wearing my armour whenever I play that game with her." 

"Exactly!" Y/N spoke up, clapping their hands. "You know, as nice as this has not been, I have some work to get done." 

"Okay, well I will leave you both to it." Nat said as she stepped beside Y/N, resting her hand on their shoulder. "I know that you both will be the best part of the other, just don't ever take her for granted." With that, Nat left the lab as Y/N put their favourite playlist on, their classic rock playlist. They sang along to the songs, Tony joining in just as enthusiastically as they both moved around the lab continuing their work. 

[multific]

Through Ash and Devotion

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After suffering terrible burns, Aegon wakes up only to find his wife refusing to leave his side.

The scent of burnt flesh still lingered in the air.

Even beneath the clean linens and the salves the masters had applied, the acrid stench of charred skin clung to the very walls of the royal chamber.

You sat beside the bed, your fingers curled around Aegon’s unmoving hand, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest.

He did not wake up yet.

The moment you heard what had happened, your world had come undone.

Aemond’s rage, his fire, had turned on his own brother.

There had been no warning, no time to stop it. 

One moment, they had been brothers; the next, Vhagar’s flames had consumed the king, leaving him broken and burnt.

You had barely left his side since they brought him back, despite the masters' protests. 

They whispered among themselves, saying the King would not heal well, that the wounds would linger, and that his body would never again be as it was before.

But none of that mattered to you.

Only that he lived.

A groan broke the silence. 

His fingers twitched in yours, weak but alive.

Your breath caught as his eyes fluttered, his eyes opening dazed, pained. He turned his head slightly, wincing as the movement pulled at his burned skin. 

His gaze found you, and for a moment, there was only confusion.

Then realization.

“You stayed.” His voice was hoarse, cracked like the embers of a dying fire.

Tears pricked your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You tightened your hold on his hand. “Of course, I stayed.”

He swallowed, trying to wet his parched throat. “Why?”

Your heart clenched at the question. “Because I love you, Aegon.”

He let out a bitter chuckle, cut short by a grimace of pain. “You love the drunk, the disappointment. The whore-mongering king. The man who-” He broke off, turning his face away from you, shame creeping into his tired expression. “I have given you no reason to.”

You reached out, fingers trembling as you touched his cheek, minding his injuries. “You are more than the man you used to be. More than what they say of you. And even if you weren’t, even if you were still that reckless prince… I would still love you.”

Aegon stared at you then, as if truly seeing you for the first time. As if, through the haze of pain and regret, he was finally grasping the depth of your devotion.

His throat bobbed, and he turned his head just enough to press a weak kiss to your palm. “You’re a fool,” he murmured, voice raw with emotion.

“Then we are two fools,” you whispered back, brushing his silver hair from his damp forehead. “Because I think you love me, too.”

He exhaled shakily, his grip tightening on your hand. “I think I do.”

Aegon was not a man of poetry or grand declarations. But those words, spoken in that ragged, wounded voice, were worth more than all the sonnets in the world.

You leaned in, pressing your lips gently to his forehead, careful not to cause him pain. “Then heal, my love. Stay with me.”

His breath hitched, and when he closed his eyes, it was not from pain but something softer. “I will.”

You smiled through your tears, settling in beside him, knowing that for the first time in a long time, Aegon would not turn away from the light you offered. 

And with time, he would learn that love, real love would never burn him, it would only ever keep him warm.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[matt-murdockk]

I can fix him (no really I can)

They shake their heads saying, "God help her" When I tell them he's my man But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger I can fix him, no, really I can And only I can

college!matt murdock x fem!reader | fluff— a whole lotta fluff | sorta friends to lovers? | fic from reader's pov, then a pov switch to third person

Matt Murdock famously doesn't stick around for longer than a month, tops. You were determined to change that.

Pre-law golden boy with an aura that exudes confidence, Matt was the person everyone either wanted to be, or wanted to be with. He knew that, and his faux modesty only made it worse for the masses desperate to get a piece of him. Am I one of—? Please, I'd fuck a tree before I fuck Matt Murdock. Not that I hate him or anything. I'm just not on the bed anyone with abs and a personality bandwagon. Good for him for all that attention he's getting, but my ties with him start and end in class. He's just a classmate.

Okay, maybe not just a classmate.

We share notes. Sometimes. Only when he forgets his, which is rare, because apparently being hot and capable is a combo this man insists on wielding like a goddamn weapon. Once, he offered to buy me coffee as a thank you and I made the mistake of saying yes. We ended up talking for an hour. One hour. And somehow I left that conversation knowing his middle name, his favourite diner his dad used to take him to, and exactly what kind of espresso he drinks before a big exam.

It was fine. It’s fine. People have conversations all the time. I’m not spiraling.

We became friends. Real ones. That was the problem.

Because here’s the thing: Matt Murdock is a disaster.

Not on paper. No— on paper, he’s perfect. He’s top of the class, charming when he wants to be, a little cocky, but in a way that makes you laugh instead of wanting to push him down the stairs.

But spend enough time around him and you start to notice things.

Like how he never lets anyone get close. Like how he flirts with half the campus but every single one of his flings ends in vague silence and awkward glances the next day. Like how he knows exactly how to listen to someone but refuses to let anyone hear him.

It’s not a red flag. It’s a goddamn red parade.

So of course I did what any completely normal person with an ounce of self-preservation would do.

I caught feelings for that bastard.

Of course, it's the emotionally unavailable mess with enough red flags to decorate a fucking carnival that catches my attention. Just my goddamn luck.

And, in a moment of sheer lunacy, decided I could fix him.

No really, I could. Just needed time. And patience. And maybe a crowbar for emotional extraction. Whatever. I’ve done harder things. If I can survive Mr Vasquez's class, I can survive whatever this is.

I just have to make sure he never finds out I like him. And also make him like me back. And maybe heal years of trust issues in the process.

Easy, right?

Well, it wasn’t.

Because what started as some deranged attempt to break into the fortress that is Matt Murdock turned into something else entirely. We became friends. Real friends. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being about fixing him and started being about just… being there.

And God help me, I think he needed that more than anything.

It wasn’t just me and Matt anymore, either. Foggy came into the picture fast— bright-eyed, effortlessly funny, with an incredible ability to sniff out bullshit in under five seconds. The three of us? Unstoppable. Study sessions, lunch breaks, late-night coffee runs before an exam. They were my people.

So yeah. The plan backfired. Spectacularly. But I had friends for life now, so I couldn’t exactly call it a failure.

It didn’t mean it stopped hurting, though.

Matt’s life… it wasn’t easy. I could see it in the way he shut down when he was overwhelmed, how he buried himself in work instead of letting anyone in. Some nights he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, but he’d still crack a joke just to make Foggy laugh.

And when he was with other women— when he flirted like it was a language only he spoke— it hurt. Even when I told myself I didn’t have a right to feel that way. He wasn’t mine. I made sure of that.

I’d smile through it. Tease him, even. Make some stupid quip about his tragic taste in women and let the ache settle where no one could see it.

Except Foggy noticed.

He always does.

One afternoon— study session turned snack break in our usual booth— Foggy caught me staring too long. Matt was across the room talking to a girl from one of our electives, charming smile and all.

“You okay?” he asked, nudging me with his elbow.

I blinked. “Yeah. Fine.”

“You sure? Because that definitely wasn’t your ‘fine’ face. That was your ‘I’m swallowing feelings and pretending to be emotionally stable’ face.”

I sighed, resting my chin on my palm. “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I turned to him. “Foggy, I’m not gonna pull a dramatic ‘what are we’ in the middle of a group project. Matt may be a lot of things, but you really cannot force him to be something he doesn’t want to be.”

Foggy frowned. “But do you think he doesn’t want—?”

“Matt would probably suck at relationships,” I said, more tired than bitter. “Like, actual long-term ones. He likes the chase, he likes the moment. And that’s fine. He’s allowed to live how he wants. I just… I’m happy being his friend. Genuinely. Give it time. I’ll get over it.”

Foggy was quiet for a second. “That was… wildly mature.”

“Yeah well, personal growth is a bitch.”

He grinned. “Still. If it helps, he’s not as smooth as he thinks.”

I snorted. “No, but he is absurdly pretty. That makes up for a lot.”

We let the topic die after that. I figured that was the end of it.

I didn’t know Matt had heard.

—————————————————————————————————

Third Person POV

Matt had only come back for his notebook.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He hadn’t meant to hear that.

But he had.

He stopped just shy of the hallway corner, heart thudding loud in his chest. The way her voice dropped when she said “I’ll get over it.”

The words hit harder than he expected.

She thought he’d be a bad boyfriend.

Worse— she didn’t even think he was worth trying.

And Matt knew— he knew— he hadn’t been great. He had a lot on his plate, a whole goddamn feast of mess, but he never once thought she saw him like that. Not undeserving.

She didn’t know he stayed up wondering what it’d feel like to kiss her. For real. Without laughing it off or playing it cool. She didn’t know how often his fingers hovered near hers and didn’t reach. How badly he wanted to.

But if she thought he wasn’t capable of it? Of loving her the way she deserved?

He had to change that.

Not just for her. For him. For the version of himself he wanted to be—the kind that could love someone, openly and fully, without messing it up.

“Jesus,” Foggy muttered when he saw Matt later that night. “You look like you saw a ghost. Or rather... felt a ghost? I don't know, man.”

“I heard something,” Matt said, collapsing onto his bed, voice low.

“Define ‘something.’”

“(Y/N) said I’d be a bad boyfriend.”

Foggy blinked. “Okay. Context?”

Matt dragged a hand over his face. “She was talking to you. In the booth. Earlier.”

Foggy raised his brows. “You, uh, you were there?”

“I forgot my notebook.”

Foggy held up his hands. “Alright, okay. First off— she didn’t say you’d be a bad boyfriend. She said you’d probably suck at steady relationships. Big difference.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, because you’ve never tried a steady relationship. Which is kind of the point.”

Matt groaned. “I need to fix this.”

Foggy stared. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to walk me through your version of fixing this.”

Matt sat up. “I’m gonna prove her wrong.”

Foggy blinked. “You’re gonna… ask her out?”

“No,” Matt said quickly. “I mean— yes. Eventually. But first I need to become the kind of guy she thinks could be a good boyfriend. You know. Change her mind.”

Foggy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Just fuck already.”

Matt frowned. “What?”

Foggy threw his hands in the air. “You like her. She likes you. I have seen you two. Why do you think you want her to stay longer after we're done studying? Why do you think you linger? Why do you think you bring her coffee and save her a seat and remember her deadlines better than your own?”

Matt opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“She fell first, you fell harder,” Foggy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You know the drill, man.”

Matt stared.

“…Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. My brother in Christ, you’re in love.”

Matt exhaled.

“…Shit.”

——————————————————————————————————

Matt didn’t sleep that night.

He lay awake, headphones in, a lecture playing that he didn’t hear, the words echoing over and over again in his head.

“She fell first.”

“You fell harder.”

He didn’t even realize when it happened. Somewhere between her snorting at his awful Latin puns and handing him half her sandwich because he forgot to eat again— he’d fallen. And now she thought he was incapable of loving her the way she deserved.

It felt like a punch to the chest.

But instead of wallowing, he decided to do something.

Starting now.

The next morning, Matt showed up to your apartment with coffee. Your exact order. No text beforehand. No heads-up.

You opened the door in pajama shorts and a hoodie, one sock on and a pen still tucked behind your ear.

“Matt?”

He held up the coffee like it was a peace offering. “You mentioned your 9 a.m. was with Vasquez today. I figured you’d need a hit of caffeine and a minor miracle.”

You blinked. “…That’s weirdly thoughtful of you.”

He smiled. “I’ve been working on that.”

And then he left. Just like that.

No flirting. No lingering.

Just… left.

You stared after him, cup in hand, completely thrown.

It didn’t stop there.

Matt started walking you to class. All the time.

Not just when you happened to be heading the same direction. On purpose.

He’d show up at your building with some excuse— “I needed air,” or “Foggy wasn’t ready yet”— and fall into step beside you like it was routine.

Then came the favors. Printing your notes when the Wi-Fi was down. Fixing the broken strap on your bag. Letting you drag him to that awful late-night diner when you were too wired to sleep.

You didn’t get it.

This wasn’t how Matt Murdock operated.

Matt Murdock flirted, ghosted, and moved on.

This? This was effort.

It was also torture.

Because the more he did it, the more you started to hope. Stupid, dangerous hope. Maybe he did like you. Maybe this wasn’t one-sided after all.

But every time you thought about asking, about saying something— he’d flash that same unreadable smile and change the subject.

So you kept your mouth shut. Kept watching. Waiting.

Hoping.

Meanwhile, Foggy was losing his mind.

“You can’t just— Matt, you cannot boyfriend her without telling her.”

Matt frowned, folding his arms. “I thought this was the part where I prove myself.”

“To who? To her? She already likes you. You’re not proving anything except that you’re allergic to communication.”

“I’m building a foundation.”

Foggy looked pained. “You’re building a bad sitcom plot. Just tell her.”

Matt hesitated. “She said she didn’t want that. She said she’d get over me.”

Foggy sighed so hard, his soul probably left his body.

“Matt. Listen to me. She said that because she didn’t think she could have you. You have ghosted every girl before her, remember?”

Matt winced. “Not every—”

“Every.”

“…Fair.”

Foggy ran a hand down his face. “You’re gonna lose her if you don’t speak up.”

Matt didn’t respond.

Because deep down, he knew it was true.

——————————————————————————————————

It started with Foggy texting you.

Which was already suspicious, because Foggy never texted first unless Matt was—

foggy: hey can you swing by the quad after class?

foggy: matt’s planning something

foggy: i’m scared :,)

Now, when someone like Foggy— sweet, unshakeable, usually-down-for-anything Foggy— is scared, you listen. You changed your route and headed toward the quad.

And promptly stopped dead in your tracks.

Because what the hell were you looking at.

Matt Murdock stood on a bench.

On a goddamn bench. In broad daylight. Holding what looked like a beat-up portable speaker above his head like he was channelling John Cusack in Say Anything.

Button-down rolled to the elbows. Hair tousled like it’d been run through about seven too many times. Foggy was standing off to the side looking like he was actively regretting every life decision that brought him here.

“Oh no,” you whispered. “Oh no.”

A group of students was already watching, phones half-raised. Matt didn’t seem to care.

You watched, frozen, as he raised a hand and cleared his throat. Actually cleared his throat. Like he was about to deliver a valedictorian speech. You saw Foggy mutter don’t do it, like a prayer.

Matt did it anyway.

“I, uh… I know this is weird,” he began, voice carrying over the quad, “but I have something to say. Something important.”

The crowd murmured. A few giggles. One guy yelled “Murdock, you proposing?” which earned a sharp shut up from someone else. Foggy, probably.

Matt ignored it. His face was dead serious. “There’s someone I’ve been an idiot about. Someone smart and stubborn and too good to waste time on someone like me. But she did anyway. She does. And if she’s here—” his head turned slightly “— I want her to know I’m sorry. And that I like her. A lot.”

You blinked.

Foggy made frantic eye contact with you from the sidelines and mouthed stop him.

But you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Matt continued. “I was scared, okay? I thought I’d ruin it. Ruin her. But then I realized I’d rather screw up trying to be with her than let her go without even trying. So, (Y/N),” he called, voice way too confident for a man committing this level of social suicide. “This one’s for you.”

A soft click, followed by the unmistakable synthy intro of Truly Madly Deeply by Savage Garden.

Savage. Fucking. Garden.

You clapped a hand over your mouth.

Someone nearby went “What is happening?”

Matt? he looked hopeful.

And you— stupid, stunned, wildly endeared— were just about to take a step forward when—

Cue the sprinkler system turning on.

Every. Single. Sprinkler.

They sputtered, then blasted to life across the quad like a synchronized ambush. A collective scream rose as people scrambled away, books and phones held over heads.

Matt? Got hit square in the chest, earning a strained Jesus from him.

Foggy somewhere in the periphery muttering “I told him” like a man in mourning.

You? Soaked. Wide-eyed. Laughing.

You actually had to cover your mouth, you were laughing so hard.

Matt stepped down, water dripping from his sleeves. He looked around like he was being personally smitten by the gods. It was like the universe waited for maximum dramatic tension just to drop the punchline.

The song cut out with a strangled sputter as the speaker died a wet, heroic death. Students screamed. Matt cursed under his breath as he was immediately soaked. Foggy, who had clearly seen this coming, was already power-walking toward the nearest tree, muttering “I’m too pretty for this.”

You stood there in shock as water poured down on everyone.

And then— you burst out laughing.

You couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop it. You doubled over, drenched, laughing so hard it echoed louder than the chaos around you.

Matt stood on the bench, blinking water from his lashes, the speaker dangling uselessly from one hand. He looked like a wet, confused puppy. A hot wet confused puppy. Weird analogy. But still.

You pushed your hair from your eyes and walked over, completely soaked.

“This was your grand romantic gesture?” you asked between giggles.

He ran a hand down his face, sopping. “It was supposed to be better.”

You looked up at him, the pathetic speaker still crackling faintly in his grip. “It was absolutely ridiculous.”

A pause.

You smiled. “It was perfect.”

Foggy squelched up behind you both. “Okay, you’ve both had your romcom moment, can I go home now? My socks are... squishy.”

Matt turned to him, still trying to catch his breath. “Thanks for… whatever part you played in this.”

“I want that thank you in writing,” Foggy muttered. “And a refund for emotional distress.”

You turned back to Matt.

“Do I get to keep the boombox?”

He grinned. “It’s mostly water now. But sure.”

You took a slow step closer. “So… boyfriend material yet?”

He reached out— careful, gentle— and brushed a piece of wet hair behind your ear. “Getting there.”

And then you kissed him.

In the middle of the quad. Soaked to the bone. Surrounded by students who definitely started applauding and whistling, because of course they did.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Foggy just shook his head.

“Seriously. I hate you both.”

You smiled at him. “Love you too, Fog.”

And Matt?

Well, he didn’t run.

Not this time.

a/n: alright so the fic took a detour from what i had originally planned, it was going to be angst, reader was going to be fwb with matt, and well it's a whole thing, a lot of changes happened but i didn't change the title because well i got attached. i know it doesn't really make sense now with how the story turned out, but i'm leaving it in the story anyway, hope you liked it!

[rositaslabyrinth]

Landslide - Sam W

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Years after walking away from hunting—and from Sam—you find yourself on his doorstep again. Some wounds heal with time. Others just wait.

Warnings : just slight angst maybe?? I don’t think there are any!!

Word count ; 2,591

You didn’t expect him to open the door so fast.

Maybe you thought you’d have a moment to change your mind—to run like you always do. But when the cabin door creaked open and you saw him standing there, tall and quiet and so achingly familiar, your feet stayed rooted to the ground.

He hadn’t changed much. A little older around the eyes, maybe. Softer in the way he held his shoulders. But his presence hit you like a memory you didn’t realize you still carried.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, like it hurt to say it out loud.

You swallowed. “Hey.”

There were a hundred things you should’ve said. A hundred more you wanted to. But neither of you reached for them. Instead, Sam stepped aside and let you in like no time had passed at all.

The cabin smelled like cedarwood and dust, like old books and something distinctly him. It was warm, lived-in, nothing like the motels you used to crash in after long hunts. There were throw blankets on the couch, boots by the door. A real life.

You didn’t ask if you could stay. You didn’t have to.

He made grilled cheese.

You stood near the window as he worked, watching the last light of the day fade behind the treeline. The mountains cradled the sky in silence, turning everything blue and gold.

“Still like it the same way?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

You smiled faintly. “Burnt edges, extra cheese.”

He smirked. “Some things don’t change.”

“No,” you said, quieter, “I guess they don’t.”

He handed you a plate and nodded toward the table. You both sat, the old wooden chairs creaking under your weight like they remembered more than you did.

It felt strange—this domestic calm between you, like a dream borrowed from someone else’s life.

“So,” you said after a beat. “Colorado?”

He shrugged. “Felt like the place to go.”

“Not a lot of monsters around here.”

He glanced up at you. “That’s why I picked it.”

You nodded slowly. Sam looked down at his food, then back at you, eyes full of the kind of silence that used to live between you. That familiar ache.

“I missed you,” he said.

Your breath caught. “You don’t even know if I’m still the same person.”

“I don’t care.”

Later, you sat on the porch together, a bottle of whiskey between you. The stars were so bright they didn’t feel real. The kind of night that makes the world feel untouched.

Inside, an old radio played—quiet enough to be background noise, until the chords of Landslide drifted through the open window.

Your chest tightened.

Sam shifted beside you. “You still like this song?”

You stared out at the trees. “Always.”

He was silent for a long moment. Then—

“Why’d you leave?”

You looked down at your hands, at the way your fingers were knotted in your lap like a child’s. “Because I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of what we were becoming. Of what I was becoming. The blood, the loss… the life. It was swallowing me whole.”

Sam nodded. His voice was soft. “I was scared too.”

You glanced at him. He was looking straight ahead, his profile lit faintly by the moonlight.

“I thought you’d chase me,” you said.

He exhaled. “I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But I figured… if you wanted to go, I shouldn’t stop you.”

“And if I didn’t?”

His gaze shifted toward you, slow and deliberate. “Then I was a coward.”

Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?Can I handle the seasons of my life

The song played on, winding around the quiet like it was made for moments like this. You leaned back against the porch post, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Do you ever think about it?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. “About what we could’ve been?”

Sam’s answer was instant. “Every day

You looked at him then—really looked at him. His eyes were tired but kind, full of sorrow and something else. Something warm. Something still beating.

You reached for him, tentative.

He didn’t hesitate.

He took your hand, fingers lacing through yours like they belonged there. Like no time had passed at all.

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing

‘Cause I built my life around you…

“I still love you,” you said.

Sam turned toward you, eyes glassy in the moonlight.

“I never stopped,” you added, voice breaking. “Even when I tried to.”

He let out a shaky breath. Moved closer.

“Then stay,” he said.

And this time, you didn’t run.

You let him wrap his arms around you, let your face rest against his chest, let his heartbeat fill your ears like an old song you’d forgotten the words to. He kissed the top of your head like it was instinct, like his body remembered how to love you before his mind could catch up.

The wind moved softly through the trees. The record skipped, then continued.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of the past lift—just a little.

You had survived the landslide.

Now all that was left was to build something new.

You woke to birdsong and the rustle of wind through pine trees.

And warmth.

The kind of warmth that came from a body next to yours, from skin against skin. From peace.

Sam’s arms were around you, loose but protective. One hand rested at your waist, the other tucked beneath his pillow. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, slow and even.

It should’ve felt unfamiliar. But it didn’t.

You let yourself stay still for a moment longer, eyes closed, listening to the quiet hum of the morning and the rhythmic sound of his breathing.

You’d almost convinced yourself last night had been a dream.

But then his thumb moved, just slightly, brushing the soft fabric of your shirt. You didn’t move. You weren’t ready to break the spell just yet.

“You awake?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open. “Yeah.”

He shifted behind you, pulling you in a little closer. “I thought I might’ve imagined you.”

You smiled, small and sad. “I thought I’d be gone by now.”

His arm tightened slightly. “I’m glad you’re not.”

You turned then, rolling to face him. His eyes were half-lidded, hair tousled, the kind of sleepy beautiful that made your chest ache. You reached up and brushed a strand away from his forehead.

“You look older,” you said softly.

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “Gee, thanks.”

You smiled. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Just… life’s been happening to you.”

He nodded, eyes on yours. “Yeah. It’s been happening to you too.”

You looked away for a second, your gaze drifting toward the window, where sunlight filtered in through thin curtains.

“I never thought I’d come back,” you whispered.

“But you did,” he said. “And I’m not gonna ask you why. Not yet.”

You looked back at him. “Thank you.”

He reached for your hand beneath the blanket, linking your fingers. His touch was so gentle you almost didn’t feel it.

“I kept thinking,” he said quietly, “if I ever saw you again, I’d be angry. Hurt. I’d want answers.”

“Do you?”

He shook his head. “I just want you to stay.”

There was a long pause.

“I don’t know who I am without the road,” you said, voice thick. “Without the hunts. Without the blood. I don’t know how to be still.”

“You don’t have to know yet,” Sam said. “You just have to want to try.”

You looked at him then, really looked—at the way he watched you with that old, familiar tenderness. At the hope in his voice even when it was cautious. Even when he was scared.

“I do want to try,” you said.

His hand slid to your cheek. He leaned in slowly, giving you the chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

The kiss was soft. Barely there. Nothing like the ones you used to share in motel rooms after hunts gone wrong—full of desperation and adrenaline. This was slower. Honest. A first kiss all over again.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you too,” you said. “Every day.”

Later, you sat in the kitchen with two mismatched mugs of coffee between you and a blanket still wrapped around your shoulders. The morning sun poured through the windows, painting the floor in soft gold.

The old record player in the corner crackled to life again. You hadn’t realized he still had it.

He glanced up at you as it played, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I never got rid of it.”

You tilted your head. “The Fleetwood Mac record?”

He nodded. “You left it behind. Thought maybe you’d come back for it someday.”

You swallowed, something thick rising in your throat. “And if I hadn’t?”

“I would’ve kept it anyway.”

You laughed under your breath, brushing away a tear before it could fall. “You’re still such a sap.”

He leaned in and kissed your temple, just once. “Only for you.”

You looked at him then, really looked—at the man who waited, who never stopped making room for you, even in silence.

Mornings became your new kind of prayer.

Not the kind where you whispered names before stepping into danger. Not the kind where you begged the universe to keep him safe. But the soft, holy kind. The one that came with the smell of fresh coffee and the way Sam always ran his fingers through your hair before getting out of bed.

You started waking up earlier just to watch him go through his routine.

He was quiet in the mornings—always had been. Thoughtful. Kind. The sort of man who didn’t talk until you did, who made breakfast and passed you the first mug like it was instinct.

You didn’t talk much at first. It felt safer that way. Safer to just be.

But one morning, you reached for the cutting board before he could.

“I’ll make the eggs today,” you said.

Sam blinked like it had never occurred to him that you’d do something so… normal. “Okay.”

So you stood side by side in the tiny kitchen, shoulder brushing shoulder, as the skillet warmed and the morning sun painted his face in honey light. You felt like you were learning him all over again—not as a hunter, not as a legend, not as someone you lost—but as someone you could build a life with.

He handed you the salt. You passed him the bread. It was nothing and everything at once.

Later that week, you found the box.

It was buried beneath the stairs, beneath some old flannels and notebooks full of research that probably hadn’t been touched in years.

Your name was written on the lid in Sam’s handwriting.

You brought it upstairs quietly and set it on the coffee table, fingers hovering.

“You kept this?” you asked as he came in from the porch.

He looked at the box and paused.

“…Yeah.”

Inside: your old leather jacket, faded photos from your early hunts together, the silver ring you’d worn on your middle finger for years. A crumpled napkin from a bar in Austin with your number scrawled on it.

You looked up at him. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”

He sat beside you, closer than before. “I remembered everything.”

And then, his hand over yours.

You didn’t pull away.

That night, the ache shifted. The silence between you wasn’t heavy anymore. It felt warm. Comfortable.

Sam brushed his fingers down your spine as you sat together on the porch swing, your head tucked into the crook of his shoulder.

“You think we could make it work?” you asked. “For real this time?”

“I think we already are.”

You let yourself believe it.

And then you kissed him—really kissed him—for the first time in years. It was slow and sure and soaked in everything unsaid. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask questions. The kind that said welcome home.

You didn’t go back to your room that night. You stayed wrapped in his sheets, in his arms, in the warmth of something you’d both been too scared to hope for.

For the first time in a long time, you let yourself dream.

The house was quiet. For once.

There were toys scattered across the hallway—plastic dinosaurs and half-built block towers. The fridge was covered in construction paper hearts and drawings done in crayon, all crooked lines and backwards letters.

You sat on the porch, wrapped in a soft flannel blanket, a mug of tea resting in your hands. The sun was just beginning to set, casting the backyard in gold. The swing creaked lazily beside you. And from inside, there was the faint sound of Sam’s voice reading something aloud.

A children’s book, you guessed.

You smiled, sipping your tea, as the screen door creaked open behind you.

“She’s out cold,” Sam said, stepping outside, a soft grin on his face. “Took a whole three pages of Goodnight Moon tonight.”

“She’s growing,” you said, looking up at him. “Too fast.”

He sat beside you, reaching to pull the blanket over his lap. You tucked yourself into his side, like always. His arm settled around your shoulders with the ease of habit.

“She asked about monsters today,” he said quietly.

Your smile faltered. “What’d you tell her?”

“That they aren’t real. Not the ones she needs to worry about, anyway.”

You were quiet for a moment, your hand resting over his chest where his heartbeat still thudded strong and steady.

“You ever miss it?” you asked. “The road?”

Sam didn’t answer right away. His eyes were on the horizon, on the trees swaying in the evening breeze.

“Sometimes,” he said. “The clarity of it. The purpose. But not enough to trade this. Not even close.”

You reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his.

“I think about her sometimes,” you murmured. “The me that left. The one who thought she’d never make it back.”

“She came back,” he said softly. “She made it home.”

He looked at you then, really looked—eyes full of that same warmth, that same quiet knowing he’d always had.

Inside, something shifted. The front door creaked. Tiny footsteps padded across the floor.

You both looked over your shoulders just as your son—barefoot, hair sticking up—peeked out, clutching a well-worn blanket.

“Mama?”

You stood up, crossing to him in seconds.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked.

He shook his head.

You scooped him into your arms and carried him back to the porch. Sam reached for him instinctively, settling him against his chest as the little one yawned and nestled in.

You sat back down, brushing a hand over your son’s hair.

Sam looked over at you, eyes shining in the fading light.

“Can you believe this is ours?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at your boy, at Sam, at the house behind you and the slow, sacred stillness of the moment.

“I believe it,” you said. “Every day.”

And as the sun slipped lower, as fireflies began to flicker in the yard and your son fell asleep between you, Sam pressed a kiss to your temple.

The landslide had come. It had changed you. Broken you, even.

But it had also brought you here—to this porch, this life, this love.

And you had never felt steadier.

Liz talks : I think this is my first official sam fic? Outside of series!!!! I wanted to try something different I hope this is good I genuinely can’t tell LMFAOO I had this song stuck in my head all week last week so obviously I had to make this <33

Tags : @sunsbaby , @starzify , @bluemerakis , @aambearr , @blossomingorchids , @littlesoulshine , @daylighted , @wchswift , @emeraldcrs , @bossyblondie , @lunaleah , @pieandflannel , @sunnyteume , @deanswifeyy , @tinas111 , @deanswidow , @nymphet-quenn , @multiversefanfics , @star-maker-rain-dancer , @juicifeur , @saltcxrcle , @mochiclouds , @kimxwinchester

To be tagged in any future works of mine please check out this post !!

Any engagement is greatly appreciated <33

[ghostlymarauder]

I finally started watching Hannibal and this feels like BBC's Sherlock all over again (in the good way)

[thesquid06]

After the war, I want the kids to rot.

I want them to fail living up to their purpose. I want elven society to look upon them with awe and disappointment.

I want them to feel the weight of heroism and ignore it. They may never recover their childhood but, maybe, they can enjoy the beginning of adulthood.

It would start with Sophie. She saved them, saved the entire elven society. So, they’ll ask er to join the council. The question will tear her apart until her family and friends convince her to say no.

She won’t know what to do with herself, how to be something other than the Moonlark. She can wonder her house, helping with the animals and finding who she is without her life in danger. Maybe she’ll pick up a book, find something interesting to research. Eventually she may rejoin the world of politics, with her own policies. She’ll find ways to incorporate even species, even humans.

Dex will go back to Slurps and Burps. Giggle with his dad as they make new medicines and watch his siblings become adults. He can make little technologies that improve their business. Eventually he’ll have an invention that is used in every household.

Biana will design the latest fashion. She never wanted to fight, this has been her dream her entire life.

Keefe will heal. Actually spend time to understand his abilities and utilize them in a way that does not destroy his soul. Maybe he’ll share his way with the younger generation, be the teacher children look up to. (Maybe become principle of Foxfire).

Tam and Linh will look upon their childhood experiences in sorrow. As adults they will learn forgiveness but will never forget what they have gone through. Tam will make sure no child grows up in a household like his own. He’ll teach them how to handle their emotions, work on finding safe homes for everyone. Linh will teach at Exillium. She’ll make it an education to be proud of.

They will all change the world in their own ways. It’s quieter, compared to what was expected, but full of honor. They will not be puppets to the council but learn how to separate from the past and become themselves.

(On a side note, I cannot picture Fitz being anything other than a councilor. I don’t know if he can move on from being the golden boy. But he will be so proud of what his friends and family have become. And he will be a councilor for the people, refusing to continue any ignorant ways)

[llamagoddessofficial]

@interactive-fiction-ideas - thank you for commissioning a headcanons post!!! I've missed doing these.

"What would it be like, for Nightmare and Dream (and their respective gangs), if there was a truce and Nightmare became uncorrupted? I was thinking that Nightmare still has some lasting physical and mental side effects from the corruption."

This is a long one, so most of it has gone below the cut.

For reference - I imagine all of them are currently living in one place. Probably a condition of the truce is that Nightmare and his gang aren't allowed free reign of the multiverse anymore.

Nightmare... really isn’t happy about looking like his ‘passive’ self again. When he looks in the mirror, he feels sickened by what he sees. It’s the face of the person he spent years running from. The massive crack in his skull hasn’t healed, and now that there’s no corruption to cover it, he’s resorted to fashioning all kinds of ways to hide that side of his head - bandages, masks, custom engraved coverings. He misses being able to hold multiple things with his tentacles, or grab things without having to stand. Other than his skull, his time corrupted has left some physical remnants; he's a little taller than he once was, and his bones are greyish and dark at the joints, as if stained. He wears exclusively modest and body-covering clothing to disguise the maks. He’s definitely mellowed, now that the Corruption has gone. He’s less cruel, less explosive, less malicious. But “passive” is certainly the wrong word; don’t mistake his quietness for weakness. He's not afraid of anything anymore, and he won’t take the same shit he once did. He rarely smiles, he’s quiet, he keeps to himself and his old crew. There's a sharp glint in his eyelights when he feels annoyed or threatened. His time corrupted has left more than just physical marks. He told Killer, Dust and Horror that they were free to go, if they wished. But they stayed. He says nothing about it, of course, because it’s not in any of their natures to express their real emotions... but he’s never been more grateful. He couldn’t imagine dealing with all this change alone.

Dream is obviously a lot happier about the current state of affairs than Nightmare is. He’s achieved his goal, he’s gotten what he’s been fighting for all this time. The war is over! Nightmare has been ‘saved’ from the corruption and the multiverse is safe! 

Dream and Nightmare’s new relationship is, unintentionally, a touch comical. Dream, the eternal ray of sunshine that he is, is delighted at his brother's return to 'normal'. He’s determined to forge a new sibling dynamic and show Nightmare that he’s been forgiven and can start anew. He's friendly to a fault. He likes setting up activities that everyone can do together, to get to know each other and get past their old differences; movie nights, game tournaments, supervised trips out to town, etc. Nightmare, confused by Dream’s bright sunny attitude after almost a lifetime of trying to kill each other, goes along with it to honour the truce - but doesn’t much care for being surprise hugged.  ... It’s not all sun, though. Dream’s dealing with his own demons now. He hoped beyond hope that the Corruption and Nightmare were two different people, he wanted to just wipe the slate clean and forget the pain. But he’s gradually realising that it was his brother behind the wheel during all those atrocities, all that killing. He's so tired but now, it's clear that all the damage can’t simply be ignored... there's so much more work to do. Though he knew in the back of his mind things would never truly go back to the way they were, he's still struggling to fully confront that fact - and he’s struggling to comprehend that the monster he was fighting all those years is the same person he fought so hard to get back. The moments where the happy mask slips are the moments when he and Nightmare get the closest they ever could to real reconciliation.

Blue is confused. Is he a famously strong, kind and forgiving person, even in the face of great evil? Yes. Is he happy they’re all no longer at each other’s throats all the time? Of course, it’s nice to know the war is over. ... But it’s bizarre to see everyone acting so friendly, after everything that happened. Dream tries to hug Nightmare, Nightmare holds him away by putting his hand on Dream’s face, everyone can't help but laugh. And Blue is sweating. Did they all forget that barely a year ago they were genuinely trying to kill each other? Did they all suddenly forget that he and Ink and Dream used to talk about these skeletons like mad dogs that needed to be put down? Sure, forgiveness is great. But why is nobody acting like this whole truce is absolutely nuts? Blue is the one who helps Dream work through his emotions about everything. He keeps him grounded, tethers him to reality, reminds him that things won’t instantly go back to how they were. He reminds Dream everyone will need time to heal. He’s honestly quite surprised by how naive Dream can be when it comes to his brother; in most other things, Dream is incredibly strategic and excellent at predicting people. But Nightmare is Dream’s big blind spot. He also finds himself in a strange not-quite-friendship with Dust.

Dust is only one who’s as clearly confused as Blue is about the current state of affairs. The only one who apparently remembers that Nightmare is a MASS MURDERER and this whole tenuous peace is incredibly weird. When Dream acts like everyone is besties, it's Blue and Dust who share the concerned glances. The two end up with a confusing little bro bond, often ending up standing away from the group together. Dust is confused. Very confused. He's gone from working for Nightmare kinda unwillingly, to playing peace kinda unwillingly. But like... what else has he got? It’s not like he has a home to go back to. It’s not like he has anyone else. Though he can’t stand any of the people that now frequent his life, the thought of leaving Killer and Horror and Nightmare behind made him feel strangely sickened. So he’s... lingering. Wandering around, looking for something to do, sleeping a lot and wondering if this is his life forever now. This weird pendulum swing has left him back in a position that’s equally as unusual as before. Only now, he’s ‘not allowed’ to kill. Whatever, I guess? It’s fine by him. The less work he has to do, the better. His strange camaraderie with Blue provides him a source of entertainment. He finds himself enjoying Blue’s company more than he probably should considering they've attempted to dust (haha) each other a few times. He likes that Blue doesn’t overtly judge him for his past, but equally, he doesn't pretend it didn’t happen - Blue isn't naive about it, he knows he’s ‘hanging out’ with a mass murderer. The honesty keeps things easy. Blue, Horror and Dust end up spending a lot of time together. Dust likes how patient Blue is with Horror.

Killer misses murdering but he’s really, really liking the messiness and confusion of the current state of affairs, it’s so much fun to watch everyone squirming. Killer is openly friendly to Dream and Blue, which is incredibly confusing to them - Dream nervously accepts the friendliness, Blue not so much. When Dream comes up with his 'activities’, Killer's often the most excitable and open to the concept, even more so than Blue. He convinces the others to join in. His enthusiasm is much appreciated by Dream and they have some friendly banter every now and then. ... But it’s also completely clear to everyone in the room that if something changed, and Nightmare decided he wanted to end this ‘truce’, Killer wouldn’t hesitate. Not even for a second. He’s as loyal as ever to Nightmare and he’ll go wherever his boss goes. Whether Nightmare is softspoken and stern, or a commanding madman, Killer is right there. It doesn't matter how friendly he gets with these new friends - if Nightmare said the word he'd end it. I can definitely picture Nightmare and Killer, in this circumstance, establishing something that’s approaching a real friendship. There’s still a weird power dynamic, and Nightmare’s past abuse toward his underlings hasn’t been forgotten. But the two of them have been through so much together - and every step, they trusted one another completely. If Nightmare did some reflection there’s real potential.

Horror is, honestly, up there with Dream for people who are most happy about the way things have gone. There's not much to say about him, other than this is a pretty ideal situation for him! No one except Dust really notices the way Horror starts to settle and calm down. Now that the war has ended, Horror has more time than ever to visit his brother. He’s got food, his family is safe, he liked killing but it could honestly get pretty physically and mentally stressful and now he doesn’t even have to worry about it any more. But most of all, he’s happy that the gang stayed together. He got quite attached to the Bad Sanses - he was the most genuinely emotional out of the group and anyone could see that him and Dust were close buddies. He’d miss all of them if they went their separate ways. Now? He gets to hang out with them, but without any of the executing. Dust isn’t as wound up, he lashes out less. Nightmare looks weird but he and Killer have been talking more and shouting less. Dream’s brightness gets on his nerves sometimes but the weird ‘games’ keep his mind off things. He gets to cook and clean. He visits his brother often. Blue is kinda funny.  ... This is nice. He likes this.

Ink has, for the most part, skedaddled. He was there for the fun of it all, the drama and the emotions, the adrenaline high of the multiverse being on the line. The battle of good versus evil, the character development, the crazy ‘plot twists’. Now that it’s over, he’s mostly gone back to harassing Error. He visits from time to time, but only to see Dream and Blue - not out of any real desire to help the bad guys rehabilitate. Occasionally Dream might ask him to drop by for a group activity and he does so as a favour to a friend, sometimes he gets curious about how Nightmare has changed and wants to see the new dynamics / discover how the epilogue to this ‘story’ is progressing... but he's not all that invested. Now that they can speak without attempting murder, Ink seems to have developed a fondness for Killer, but that's about all. If he’s not dropping by because he misses his friends, he’s occupied with bothering his opposite once more.

[callsign-rogueone]

a fair trade

aaric graycastle / cam tauri x reader (sunny!!!!) words: 1.2k 🏷: progressing through the beginning of IF! this one has a lot of transitions and jumps between scenes, which is my least favorite thing ever, and a major reason why it took so long, but I wanted to show these two interacting every day and slowly becoming friends, so here ya go! the next chapter will be so much better and much longer, I promise 🥺

It’s incredibly strange to be standing in this corner of the gym again, in the same spot where Nadine had died, and Violet nearly had too, avenging her. You’d never seen that much blood before in your life – but now it’s gone without a trace. Had someone knelt there last night and scrubbed it away, or had it been erased with magic? Which option is worse? 

Aaric appears at your side, speaking softly so as not to startle you. “You’re fast, and you’re smart, but at some point you’re going to have to throw some punches,” he prods. 

That’s fair. You’re the only one of the group who hadn’t made any offensive moves in your assessment match, and the last to find a partner to fight with today. 

“Yeah,” you say after a moment. “I’ve been dreading that part, honestly.”

“Let’s see what you’ve got. Just a basic stance, first.”

You nod, settling into a position that looks something like what you’d seen Imogen do earlier — she’s probably a good bet to copy.

He shakes his head. “Your feet need to be farther apart. And if you tuck your thumb in like that, you’re going to break it. Here.”

He steps forward and adjusts your fist — not missing your inhale of discomfort as his thumb presses against the swollen joint of your ring finger. He pulls back immediately, offering an apology and adjusting the technique. “Sorry. You should be fine to just keep it loose like that, as long as you adjust the impact point — what part of your fist is going to hit your target."

Another nod.

"If you just do... this," he explains, carefully reaching out to rotate your wrist to the side, careful not to put any pressure on the bandage there, "then you can make an impact with your pointer and middle finger. It won't be as effective, but it'll work until your hand heals."

Realistically, it won't — it hasn't shown much improvement since March, and the burn doesn’t help things either — but he doesn't need to know that.

"Don't worry about it too much," he offers, sensing your apprehension. "You’ve got more strength in your legs, anyway.” 

———

Being assigned breakfast duty means fewer hours of sleep, but you’re used to being up this early, anyway – you’d be going to bed at this hour, if you’d stayed in Calldyr City, just dragging yourself into the bathing chambers to hose off the sticky feeling of the ale you’d been serving, and the unwanted attention you’d been paid.

Someone is waiting for you outside the girls’ dorms; Aaric. He looks a little shy, shifting his weight awkwardly as he speaks – at a whisper, considerate of those who have been afforded the precious extra time to rest. “I saw you got breakfast duty, too, so…”

You give him a warm smile. “Glad to have a familiar face around. Do you have any idea where we’re going?”

It’s evident that he hadn’t thought this part through. “No, actually. But it can’t be far from the mess hall, right?”

You just hum in reply, nodding down the hallway. “Good place to start.”

He’s right – there’s a little door you hadn’t noticed by the serving line, propped open for you. You can already smell the bread baking, hear the pleasant bustle of a fully staffed kitchen. Not too different from home.

....

You turn to grab another potato, your eyes catching on the one Aaric is holding -- it's mangled, cut in odd places, yet somehow still holding onto half of its skin despite him having hacked at it for a good two minutes.

So there is one thing Aaric Graycastle doesn't excel at, after all -- one thing you could help him with. But you’ve never been the type to offer unsolicited advice.

Aaric is nice, though, and he’d given you so much advice on fighting, so he probably won’t be offended if you return the favor. It's a fair trade, or close to it. Still, you choose your words carefully. “Have you ever peeled a potato before?”

“Once,” he answers, a slight blush on his cheeks. 

You cross over to his side of the table, grabbing one yourself along with a short knife. “You’re digging in too hard, and taking the meat along with it. You need to hold it more flat, and scrape, to take off just the skin. Like that,” you say with a smile, finishing yours and adding it to the bowl.

“How are you so good at this?”

“Years of practice,” you answer. “My best friend is — was —  a kitchen maid. I used to sneak downstairs to help her sometimes.”

“For once you’re done with those,” the cook announces, dropping a crate onto the end of the table with a thud. “Cored and quartered.”

“Whoa.”

“That is a lot of strawberries,” he agrees.

“It must have cost a fortune.”

His head tilts. There had always been strawberries, and a variety of other fruit laid out for every breakfast, more than they’d ever eat, but he’d never considered the cost, or what became of the leftovers. 

Thankfully you continue the conversation for him, a fondness in your eyes. “We bought a whole pound of them for my birthday once. We were going to try to make them last, but they were gone by dinnertime.”

He just offers you a smile and a soft laugh, returning his attention to the vegetables.

———

“I am a god among men,” Ridoc announces, grinning from ear to ear from where he kneels over Sawyer, the executive officer pinned underneath him in what looks like a very uncomfortable position.

“Yeah, and I’m the next queen of Navarre,” you quip over your shoulder. “Saying it doesn’t make it true.”

Aaric’s heart nearly stops. He can’t help but imagine you dressed in the fine silks of the royal court, bejeweled and shining, crowned in gold, seated beside him and Halden at his father’s dinner table — a beautiful but miserable existence.

This is better. This feels right, seeing you in the sleek black of the rider’s quadrant instead of yards of stiff brocade, being able to hear you laugh and joke like this rather than sitting quietly for the rest of your days like an ornamental vase.

Your boot connecting with his stomach and his back hitting the floor snap him out of his daydream, and knock the breath from his lungs.

Your eyes widen as you realize what you’ve done. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he wheezes, cheeks reddening as he takes your outstretched hands and lets you haul him to his feet — it takes a considerable amount of strength. “That was good.”

You can’t help but smile a little about your small victory, the only time you’ve bested anyone in combat, though you know he was definitely going easy on you. “Maybe one of these days, I’ll really win,” you laugh. 

He sounds considerably less winded as he speaks again. “We’ll get you there.”

You blink at the words he chose – not you’ll get there, but we. He’s invested in your success. That’s the squad mentality, you suppose. It’s odd, but not unpleasant. 

———

“I didn’t even know I had muscles in some of these places,” you groan, folding your arms on the table and resting your head on them. 

Visia pats your shoulder gently. “That’s good – it means they’re growing.”

Your response is muffled, but universally understood by the rest of the group, who are all similarly exhausted after a full week of Rhiannon’s extra training sessions. 

All except Aaric. “Eat,” he encourages. “It’ll help.”

[maybejj]

what are your headcanons for theo as he gets older? what is he like as a teenager or young adult? or even a young kid (like 6-10)?

i love this question!! this lowkey healed my writers blocked i’m ngl. this also turned out longer than i expected so enjoy! 🫶🏻

theo throughout the years.ᐟ

ᯓ★ theo as a toddler is very shy and quiet. if he’s uncomfortable, he will hid behind his mom or dad’s legs. however, he is wild as a buck around the pogues (jj instigates this behavior) since he’s known them his whole life. pope is lowkey his favorite for sure but theo would never say because he doesn’t want to hurt jj’s feelings although sarah is a close second. he observes everything. he’s always watching every interaction. he’s a very curious baby and has so many questions. he gets scared real easy and is a total mamas boy down to his core. he’s tiny but he’s mighty so don’t mess with his mama. he’s obsessed with superman and legos! loves to build anything and everything his little mind comes up with. for valentine’s day, pope helped him build one of the flower lego sets to give to reader. she proudly displays it as the centerpiece on the kitchen table.

ᯓ★ theo as a young kid is still quite shy. it doesn’t take him as long to open up to people anymore but he’s definitely still cautious. he loves being outside and riding around on his bicycle rafe bought him. he’s starting to enjoy the ocean more and more at this age (wasn’t a big fan of water for awhile) so jj really hops on the opportunity to teach him how to surf. theo ends up loving it! he kinda has a temper in this stage of his life. he gets frustrated easily, has tantrums out of nowhere. he gets overwhelmed easier and will hit the side of his head when his environment becomes too much. rafe and reader work with him on this but it takes time. he loves going to his dads office and looking out the window-it’s very high up so he pretends he’s flying above the city like superman.

ᯓ★ theo as a teenager is very outgoing. once he hits puberty, he becomes very confident in himself. he’s basically rafe’s mini me in the best way possible. his sharp blue eyes are his biggest weapon. uses them to get whatever he wants and it works everytime. he becomes interested in baseball and golfing and rafe gets so excited about this. constantly taking him to the country club on the weekends. buying him all the expensive baseball bats, gloves, etc. he will only have the best of the best. he still lowkey loves superman but he doesn’t want his friends to think he’s lame so he saves his geek out sessions until pope comes over. his love for building things has only increased as he gets older so he takes a woodworking shop class at school and makes his mom all kinds of things. every holiday/birthday/special occasion, he builds her something she can use. at this point, 95% of their house is scattered with stuff he’s built his mom. his still has a slight temper but nowhere near as bad as when he was younger. still very protective of his mother, even more so now that he’s older and is more aware of everything. no one is messing with his mom.

ᯓ★ theo as a young adult is very successful. he goes to UNC and studies architecture. he just loves to build things so he decides to make a living off of it. he wants to start his own business eventually so he shadows rafe for a few months to get the basics down. he’s had a few girlfriends by now but nothing serious, he’s more focused on his career at this point. he’s a great public speaker and always leads all the group projects in college. he doesn’t play any sports in college but volunteers as a baseball coach in his free time for his hometowns little league. he also golfs on the weekends with rafe when he has time. also loves coming into town and having dinner with his parents. he loves sitting down with them and telling them what he’s learned in college and what he’s currently working on. rafe always asks if he’s seeing anyone and reader just rolls her eyes at the typical boy talk. theo always laughs when they start bickering. he’s learned how to control his anger completely by this age and thinks things through before making any decisions. eventually starts his own business after he’s got a couple of years of experience and rafe really helps him out when theo starts to doubt himself. his business doesn’t do as good as he thought in the first year so rafe dedicates a lot of his time and effort into helping his son build it back up and where he wants it to be. definitely still builds things for his mom. it just becomes second nature and he loves being able to give her things that no one else has.

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Imp and Skizz's answers for if they had a super power, what they'd want it to be

Martyn: So we'll stay in the world of fiction for this one. So, um, all of the sudden...you're in the X-Men. (Grian gasps) You can have an ability, you can choose your own super power (Impulse whispers "yes")--it doesn't have to be a preexisting one in the universe--so you're gonna be super. What d'you--what ability you having, and what name, and do you use it for good or evil? Skizz: Oh, I know what I'm doing. I don't know if I have a name for it, so I'll have to think about it, but-- Martyn: Yeah. I want an improv name. Skizz: --if I could choose any--if I could choose anything, it would be to heal people. (the group let's out a chorus of "aw"s and "Skizz") Joe: Maybe he's gonna use it for evil, let's hear him out. Impulse: (higher pitched) He just--this is his play, pulling at heartstrings! C'mon. (overlapping talk, unintelligible) Martyn: I'll push them down the stairs, then--magic. Grian: I'm not going to shock that. I can't-I can't shock that, Gem, you do it. (Skizz laughs) Tango: Someone needs to shock that. Skizz: That's--but I need a name. Can he go while I think of a name? Martyn: (at the same time as Impulse) Sure, yeah, we'll allow that. That'll give some time. Impulse: (at the same time as Martyn) Yeah, think-think of a name. (solo) I-I have always wanted the ability to control time and space. Like. Being able to pause time, go back in time, fast forward, if-if needed, that kind of thing? (Martyn hums) Um, I would go with..."Snapshot." Would be my name, thing. (everyone 'oooh's appreciatively) Martyn: Nice. Feel's very house-y. Skizz: Good! Grian: Minecraft-y! Impulse: (more confidently) And then, yeah, hopefully I could use that ability to save the world, and stuff. (normal tone) And...heal people. And...make--so nobody's hungry. All that--heart stuff he said. (everyone laughing quietly) I was getting shocked the whole time I was trying to talk there, by the way. Grian: He doesn't react, man! (everyone laughs harder) Dead inside. Skizz: I don't know the n--I can't think of the name that doesn't sound so...silly. Tango: We need a name. Skizz: I've giving--I'm just--I'm just gonna say "Divinity," okay? I know how ridiculous that sounds, but that's--I'm going with that. Martyn: So we got "Divinity;" I feel like we-well, what was it-- Impulse: Snapshot. Martyn: Divinity and Snapshot. Time, healing. Skizz: Yeah. Martyn: That's a tough one, I think. Any criticisms--? Jimmy: Do we, do we have Skizz's name? Did he say his name? Skizz: I said-- Martyn: "Divinity." Jimmy: Divinity... Joe: So he's just leaning right into the blasphemy, there? Skizz: I know, that's why I said it's like-it's not-it's a terrible name. Jimmy: And he went for Minecraft, "Snapshot." Grian: I like Impulse's name more? Skizz: Name is better. Grian: But yours is more heartwarming, so. Pearl: It's proven that if-if you mess with time it causes really chaotic issues. Tango: It's proven? Pearl: n- Impulse: Yeah, but I'm-I'm really good at it. Joe: Impulse doing it though, this guy might nail it! Martyn: Have you not heard of Doctor Strange? Tango: Is that real, Pearl? Pearl: I don't know, I think it could cause issues.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiihoo ! I'd like to request for some hcs between (netflix) dante and a tall s/o? Like close to his height who feels insecure about it sometimes

Ty for your time and have a nice day!

Dante loves that your both the same height!

he loves that he doesn't have to lean down or anything to compensate for your diffrence in height.

he could easily kiss any aspect of your face or rest his forehead against your own and stare into your eyes for a prolonged time.

his favourite things to do from time to time whenever he got affectionate, which was basically anytime you were nearby.

he's naturally a physically affectionate person but knew his boundaries and if he was being too much, not that was ever a case for you

so when he finds that you were insecure about being tall on the odd occasion when someone dares point it out, only to be a dick about it then he's more then ready to be of comfort.

'you're the perfect height.' he says softly as he holds you in his arms. 'besides height is not something we can easily alter anyways but people choose to act like it is says alot about their characters.' he adds.

'what does it say about them dante?' you asked him, head buried in his neck as his hands rubbed up and down your back soothingly.

'it just goes to show that they're projecting their insecuries and problmes on everyone else who's remotely happy with themsleves and their lives becuase they could never be happy with their own.' dante tells you truthfully.

'so why should you listen to them when you're perfectly happier as yourself,' he smiles at you when you lift your head from his neck, kissing your forehead and nuzziling your nose with his onw affectionately, 'because i like you the way you are and wouldn't dare ask you to chage a single aspect of yourself.'

'you mean it?' you aksed him, starting to feel slightly better. 'that you like me, height and all?'

'especially height and all sweetheart, make no mistake about that.' dante guarentees as he pecks your lips multiple times that you couldn't help but start to laught against his lips, his goofy affection making you forget the events of the day prior as though by magic.

though you guessed that was just the magic of Dante and his ability to make you seemingly forget anything and everything that might attempt to bring you down, only for him to uplift you and make you smile once more.

and you couldn't help but love and thank him for that, for being someone that you could lean on and cry while he reminds you that most of people's issues reside in themsleves and their lack of insight, but while making you laugh about the times he almost lost a limb doing the most stupid shit known to man and demon kind.

'thank you dante.' you said as you gave him a little kiss on the lip as he smiles, showing his sharp canines of his.

'don't thank me sweetheart, im just merely reminding you of your worth, reminding you to never take anyone seriously and just let their words slide off of you like water off a duck's back.' dante tells you, kissing the tip of your nose before adding. 'now lets treat oursleves by sharing a strawberry sundae shall we?'

and a nice strawberry sundae you both had, the sweet treat was healing to say the least.