#this is a twirl-worthy story

[darsynia]

You chug the water, loudly, unable to regulate how desperately you need it.

I feel this so hard, like... just get what you need IN THERE because then you'll be better prepared.

oh no i'm like incapable of stopping reading but I want to quote multiple things and kdlfjsalkfjdsalfds

Stark fake-punches Steve’s shoulder. “Way to break the ice, buddy. I’m proud of you. What happened? You noticed you’re both workaholics and needed your girl…closer to get closer, did you? Good call.”

and

“At least he finally asked you. I kept telling him to shit or get off the pot.”

“Language,” you hiss quietly.

Bahahhahah the stomach drop Steve must have had for this! I love the fake dating trope where like, things just keep *reinforcing* that it's real and it's so not!

YET

“Better make it look good then.”

screamingcryingthrowingup

“No need,” you marvel. “I just mistook them for my own.”

oh I LOVE that.

It’s incredibly cute. Steve Rogers is just so damn cute.

*grumble grumble grouch*

an adventure in micro-expressions.

I love the hell out of that.

He absently holds your ankles steady in his lap when he shifts on the cushions.

I like all of that paragraph but this especially!

he whispers like a secret, and for now, it is.

ahhhhhh

Oh noooo what did Tony do?? This was delightful and I love it and I'm glad I waited till I wasn't missing time with you to read it if that makes sense? I AM A GREEDY BITCH.

Threadbare (2)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader (see previous or series)

IMPORTANT: I forgot to mention and link that this started with an anon ask, so I should give them credit for the idea. Here's where this all started! Additionally, Richard Fisk is an actual Marvel character and the son of Kingpin. All that is straight out of the comics (and animated shows), down to the horrible color choices.

Summary: Steve shelters you from Fisk while attempting to hide the truth from Tony. He's not a great liar...but how much of this is really fake?

Warnings for fluffy fluff of the 21st-fluffery with a teeny bit of angst, 100% idiots in love! Also a quick disclaimer about me knowing exactly diddlysquat about fashion design. I binged 'Next In Fashion' and so this is the best I got lol... WC 4066

You watch Steve blush at your attempted smile. He paws at the back of his head before gathering another confession.

“Actually, I do have—I mean, yes, I wanted to see you, but uh—“ he rushes over to fetch a paper bag he must have stashed as he snuck in behind the cops “—I did have a reason to come.”

In the bag, you find three shirts, and your smile turns more genuine.

“Of course, you did. How romantic.”

You’re still awash with adrenaline; there’s no filter to keep your teasing at bay. You can barely pick up that you said anything anyway.

Steve shrugs, looking down to take back the shirts as Abby returns with a glass of water for you. “Not my best move.”

You chug the water, loudly, unable to regulate how desperately you need it. Abby gently pries Steve’s shirts from his tense arms.

“Right.” Steve rolls his shoulders out, straightening and clearly falling into Captain mode. “We need to get you somewhere safe. I just have to make a few calls and—“

“Don’t tell Stark,” you blurt, hand instinctively grabbing the wrist that holds his phone ready. “I’m sorry. That sounded like an order, just…please don’t tell Mr. Stark.” Tony can’t know that Fisk has been using you as a tailor as well. He can’t. 

Alarm and curiosity flicker behind Steve’s blue eyes, but he hides it well immediately. “Ok. I’ll—” he makes no move to take his arm back “—think of something.”

“And I have three clients left…for the day.”

Abby tsks you from behind though it’s the truth. The empty glass rattles on the tabletop with your faint tremor.

Steve thinks for a prolonged, squinting moment. “After work then. I’ll pick you up.”

You run off adrenaline and butterflies the rest of the day, and yes, whatever liquids or snacks Abby and Dominica (when she returns from her errand) put into your hand along the way, but mostly it’s the fluttering anticipation of Steve that floats you through.

And then he’s back and it’s already dark outside.

“Oh shit,” you burst, politely showing Mr. Chen out while Steve waits his turn to get in the door. He says nothing, but Captain America lowers his head in disapproval at your curse. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time. Let me grab some things.”

You race up the stairs to the apartment over the shop. Your clientele and brand used to be small enough that you could keep those two sides of life separate, but slowly, your work has crept into your living space. Now you survive from a dresser, a hanging rack, and a Murphy bed that doubles as a small desk when it’s upright against the wall.

Not much of an existence, but it’s very practical.

You’re shuffling around with an overnight bag and a dump tote to grab mostly work things and two changes of clothes. One of your assistants can bring you more stuff if/when necessary, but it feels presumptive to think you’ll live out of a safe house for long.

“So…working to live or living to work?”

You jump at Steve’s deep voice from the open doorway. He looks around at the hodgepodge of work benches and mannequins lining the walls.

“It’s a fluid and evolving situation,” you admit, sweeping several binders of fabric swatches and sketch pads into the tote. You eye a work-in-progress on one of the dummies and decide against trying to take it. Too bulky.

In order not to keep Steve waiting, you hand over the tote and head to the car, texting Abby and Dominica instructions the whole drive. Steve assures you that you’ll still have wifi and freedom to communicate, so you don’t have to clear fittings and consults off the books. It simply won’t be wise to invite welcome clients into where you’re staying.

Admittedly, that’s very generous considering you could have been looking at a blackout, witness-protection level of hiding.

You’re still on your phone when Steve opens your car door, and you shuffle with your duffel, his feet at the edge of your periphery to follow. It doesn’t register that you walk down a long hall. It doesn’t register that there’s an elevator ride and another voice. It doesn’t register that you’re looking at a kind of hostel-esque apartment inside another building until you ask if there’s a space you’ll be able to spread out for work.

Steve glows with pride that he thought of that and walks you to a conference room…surrounded by glass…overlooking a 30-story high view of the city.

You’re in the Avengers Tower, formerly Stark Tower.

“Wait, he’s not supposed to know.”

Steve gets your confusion right away. “Tony doesn’t, but without filing paperwork stating the reason you need a safe house, this was the best—“

“Sheers!” the booming voice of one Tony Stark reverberates across 360 degrees of windows. “I thought it might be you.”

“Might be me for what?” you ask as innocently as possible.

“As Capsicles’ first, of course.”

Steve hangs his head while his pal claps him on the back.

“First use of his guest pass that is. Granted, I’ve been saying for years we need an in-house tailor, but no takers…” Stark fake-punches Steve’s shoulder. “Way to break the ice, buddy. I’m proud of you. What happened? You noticed you’re both workaholics and needed your girl…closer to get closer, did you? Good call.”

Steve shoots wary eyes your way, silently praying you ignore that remark or maybe checking you’re okay with the implication. The way Stark says ‘your girl’ as if he’s heard it several times before though…

“Something like that,” you shrug. 

“At least he finally asked you. I kept telling him to shit or get off the pot.”

“Language,” you hiss quietly.

The men look a little shocked for a split second before slowly turning to each other, a silent conversation passed in the empty space over your head. Whatever just happened seems to have really convinced Tony because a wry smile flickers beneath his sinking, pale sunglasses. Yes, of course, Tony Stark is wearing sunglasses at night, just as, of course, Captain America is willingly deceiving Stark to be your fake boyfriend. 

“Romeo,” the building’s namesake coos. “Training them young, I see.”

Steve’s jaw and neck tighten, a raging flush creeping up his pale skin, but he doesn’t argue. Stark buys the ploy, which is great, but in reality, Steve doesn’t even have your personal number.

Tony lifts his hands in surrender and starts retreating to the door. “Look, I hate to take credit—“

“No, you don’t.”

Incredulous, sagging eyebrows dip below his frames. “—but I am very, very good.” He points a finger back and forth between you and Steve. “You’re welcome.”

He tries to peek under a pile of sketches atop your work tote, and you rush to slap your hand down. Stark might see the other designs you’re working on, and just like he can’t know about Fisk, he can’t know about those.

“Fine.” Tony puts his hands up again. “I’m going.”

Steve steps to your side, apology loud in his eyes, and asks if he can make you tea or something stronger, ya know, because Tony has that effect on people.

“Yeah—“ you stare off toward the elevators where Stark remains lurking “—he’s still there,” you whisper.

Steve huffs a laugh and shifts to bridge the mere inches left between you, his hand gently landing on your upper arm and planting a kiss on your forehead like a breeze.

“Better make it look good then.”

Turns out you need tea and food.

You’d been so reliant on your assistants for nourishment that you forgot dinner. Steve sees; he has it covered. Instead of winding down after a trying day, however, you get a rush of energy, and you can’t squander the chance to make crucial adjustments. Every minute counts in the lead-up to Fashion Week.

“May I join you?” Steve asks, ready to walk away with his meal in hand should you prefer. “I won’t take up much space.” He looks down at his shoes and up the two inches above his head to the top of the doorframe. “Ok, much more space,” he corrects.

“You wanted to leave me alone?”

He bites back a smile and shakes his head, settling into the least cluttered corner.

He chats excitedly as you both eat, but after failing to pry some answers about Fisk from you,—‘are you often threatened by clients?’ and ‘can you steer him in another designer’s direction?’—Steve slips away to grab his own art supplies.

You’ve barely looked up until you get a surge of inspiration and search for your colored pencils under the pile of templates. How did they get all the way over there? Since when are red and grey so worn down? Weren’t you needing to replace both blues soon?

“Those in your way? I can move them?”

Steve stops sketching, holding a yellow pencil, the only color missing from the tin. That’s when you realize. He uses the same brand of pencils you do—tools made of quality materials but nothing overly fancy.

“No need,” you marvel. “I just mistook them for my own.”

Steve sweeps a large hand out in offering. “Mistake away.”

You can’t help it. You chew your lip to calm your grin. He’s simply a very giving man who enjoys simple things. It’s refreshing.

“Or we could trade? We seem to use the opposite colors the most.”

“Right,” Steve laughs, “I went on a tear trying for Sam’s suit in-flight. Never turned out.” Shaking his head dislodges a lock of hair, so he runs his fingers through the strategic coif.

“Hmm,” you hum absently, engrossed by his picturesque appearance, “my drawings are more like guidelines for my imagination. No need to be precise.”

“A sentiment I’ve heard many times before.” He slides the tin closer to the midway point between you. “I just want to do beauty justice, which sounds pretentious but…

“Point is—“ Steve lifts his gaze to you with a soft shrug “—use whatever you like.”

You thought your work habits were grueling, but poor Steve flits around at all hours of the day and night with workouts, training, meetings, and missions. He mostly gets to do drive-by waves of ‘hello’ as he travels the building past your glass bubble, always with a smile, always with a tinge of something else. He’s an easy man to read: you can tell when he’s fatigued (in spirit though, not body), you can tell when he’s irritated from stress, and you can tell when he wants to linger but has to go.

It’s incredibly cute. Steve Rogers is just so damn cute.

You continue with business as usual as best you can, video calling during consults and the most critical fittings. Clients aren’t exactly happy with your absence, but they don’t dare complain when the alternative is waiting another month for you to schedule in person. Besides, there are oftentimes you step away from routine appointments to focus on creating new lines.

Dominica is allowed to walk right in with any of your requested supplies since she’s delivered to Stark several times before. She stays for a few hours to touch base. She assures you that Tarik is no longer unnerved by the police car that sits at the curb outside the atélier’s front door. Apparently, Abby takes the cops coffee a couple times a day.

All in all, it’s going well.

One day, you think Steve is showing up for one of your ‘sketch sessions’—where he sits in his own chair somewhere around the huge oval table and quietly works alongside you—but not today.

“They…it’s…” Steve plants his feet on the carpet across from you and looks behind him nervously. Anytime other people are near the room, he walks right over to you to kiss your cheek, a show to keep up the appearance of actually being a couple, but it’s late enough that no one is around. “We do movie night—we’re doing movie ni—we’re watching a movie if you’d like to join?”

You’re tempted to tease him, ask ‘where’s my kiss’ or something that makes that fiery blush creep up Steve’s face, but you grin back. “Sure. I could use the break.”

Honestly, no, you should be hammering out some details for the lapels of this blazer, but ehh, you’re also tired of staring at the same damn jacket.

Of course, this means the lot of them save you and Steve seats beside each other on a couch. You two have only ever sat in chairs in front of or separated by a table, so figuring out how to curl up next to the man you are not dating is an adventure in micro-expressions. You share a look that lasts about two seconds but contains a forty-five-minute discussion of how far is okay to take this and agree that you want to keep up the charade.

Thus, Steve lifts his arm to drape across your shoulders, and you lean into his chest.

It’s a good fit, good enough that you wake up two hours later not knowing what the movie was about and starting to sweat from being so close to his very warm body.

Maybe it’s the eye convo or maybe napping directly on him tells Steve how comfortable you are with him, but either way, he changes to giving a kiss on the cheek or forehead every instance he sees you, no exceptions.

After a week of remaining on the same floor of the same skyscraper and doing nothing but working, sleeping, and movie-sleeping, you’re at your wit’s end, longingly staring out the window at the city below.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asks as he enters the conference room. Forehead kiss this time. His lips feel soft and warm as they ghost over your skin.

“Stuck,” you mutter.

His hand smooths across your back. “Well, how do you normally get unstuck?”

“I go for a walk through the park.” You know you can’t go outside, but it’s difficult to wrangle every bit of bitterness at your captivity. You appreciate all Steve is doing to make it so Fisk can’t get to you, but you need fresh air.

Steve sighs like he’s mad at himself before spinning around the room. “Right.” He grabs your hand. “Come with me.”

In the elevator, Steve explains that in keeping with the eco-friendly intent of the new clean energy tower, Tony made half of the rooftop a greenhouse and the other half a garden. The walking paths are all moss-covered, but there are no benches. Just outside the elevator doors are folding chairs, and Steve grabs two.

On separate chairs with no table in sight, you two watch the sunset on the other side of the building from your work room. You take in a big breath of the chilly air and shiver, completely content to experience freedom away from climate control, but Steve rushes back into the greenhouse to retrieve a blanket from the stack beside the chairs.

“Here ya go,” he stumbles, leaning to tuck the fabric around you. “I should have brought us tea or something,” but when he makes to leave this time, you take his hand.

“You’ll miss it.” He’s probably seen the view from here a million times before, but you don’t want him to go. “Stay,” you say in a whisper.

Steve visibly softens, shoulders dropping, eyes alight. “Yeah?” He sits again and looks at the nearly cloudless sky. “Yeah.” He slouches to get comfy in the small and unsupportive chair, but he looks so at home bathed in the warm pink light. “Each time’s a bit different but—“ he turns to you, smiling “—this one’s better.”

Since the sunset sit-down, Steve makes a point to pry you away from the work area when he has time to hang out with you. The couch isn’t actually far away from the conference room, but it does mean you get to sit together, your feet in his lap while he reads a book, listening to his commentary on the author’s points or sketching aimlessly for fun.

The whole thing feels like a bizarre vacation, some alternate reality where your home life intersects with superheroes. Tony Stark may have been a sometimes-client, but he never let you attempt anything more custom than a three-piece suit. 

You’re not complaining; it’s just weird that Captain America is so average when his uniform comes off. He sinks his face into his palm when he’s sleepy. His yawn is outrageously adorable for how big the man is. He absently holds your ankles steady in his lap when he shifts on the cushions. His eyelids droop, and he repeats paragraphs when he can no longer keep his place on the page.

Steve Rogers could not be more normal, and for this reason, you find him extraordinary.

He gets dressed every morning while you’re there, no sweatpants, no workout wear—or, what did Sam call it? Athleisure? That’s not a word, right?—except for when Steve is actively working out. He thinks it’s too on-the-nose to wear your designs in front of you for days on end, but that limits his options significantly, considering how much of his wardrobe sports a Tovarich label. Good jeans and a black sweater will have to do because today he’s playing model.

It seems the mannequin Dominica hauled in for you isn’t close to the right proportions for your client so Steve volunteered, rewarded immediately with a gorgeous, toothy smile that made his heart thump against his ribcage.

Steve’s chatty but can’t help it.

There was one conversation a few days ago that unlocked so many memories he thought he’d lost.

While he peeked at a few of your sketches, you asked him about clothing in the 40s, and he took your notepad to doodle a bit. Steve drew a common dress from memory to show you girls he grew up with, the pleats and cinches in their exact spots because—now that he has your full and rapt attention—he thinks it’s important.

He’s had to recall maps, battle maneuvers, building layouts, and evil plans more times than he can count; no one’s ever asked him how his mother styled her hair or which shoes she wore to work at the hospital.

They’re just shoes, but Steve sat misty-eyed describing how Ma tied her laces a very specific way, the way she taught him to, the way he still ties them to this very day. He hadn’t thought of why in so long, and ever since, little details keep flooding back.

“Buck used to never tuck in his shirts,” Steve laughs as you nudge his arms higher to check his range of motion in the shoulders. “He’d fix the front half and leave a tail out in the back.”

You chuckle at that. “Unacceptable for proper ol’ Stevie,” you muse.

“No, it was not—“ he drops his head in shame “—and I’d remind him every time.” Steve spins, prompted by the pull of your hands at his waist. His face is on fire, but he promised to help you. He just has to ’suffer’ through your touch, he supposes.

How horrible…

“Sharp dresser, were you? Not a hair out of place?”

“Yes, ma’am, or…at least for my size I was.”

You’re deep in thought, pulling the bottom hem to check how it lays at his hips, checking the lining before buttoning him up. “These might be too flashy,” you mumble. “Gosh, I hope he likes this color.”

“Why not? It’s stunning,” Steve jumps too eagerly at the chance to praise the barely purple fabric. It’s that kind of illusion hue that might look black, navy, or its true shade in different lights.

“And the buttons?” you prod.

He tilts one of the stamped, dark nickel rounds to see the embellishment. “I’d consider that a signature touch of the Tovarich brand,” he beams.

Your elation is contagious until an ear-splitting alarm sounds overhead. You’re so startled you spring backward into a rolling chair and topple to the floor.

Steve scrambles to help you right yourself while the wailing screech continues, but he knows that noise.

Emergency.

He has to go.

You’re holding your elbow, flashing him a thumbs up, and Steve feels terrible yelling to ensure you’re okay.

Agents race past the glass walls, and he really has to run so off he goes, jacket still on.

An incredibly long seventeen hours later, Steve is returning to his room only to notice you’ve fallen asleep at the conference table. He’s pleased there is no bandage on your elbow, so the fall was no worse than bruising, but he refuses to leave you there.

Slowly peeling your face and hands from your drafting paper, Steve wrestles your flopping arms and limp legs into a solid hold to carry you to your own room.

You don’t wake up, not fully, only enough to grip the shoulder strap of his shield harness as he gently lowers you onto the unmade bed. Luckily, your MO is to kick off your shoes when concentrating on work, so once you release the leather attached to him, he pulls the covers over you.

He kisses your temple. “Night, Button,” he whispers like a secret, and for now, it is.

You simply sigh and turn deeper into the pillow.

Steve purposefully finds you at breakfast to ask if you’d want to get lunch with him. Yes, it would just be in the cafeteria on the lower levels, and yes, you two have already shared many meals, but in his mind, this is the actual ask, the question of ‘will you go out with me’ instead of just ‘are you hungry at this reasonable time and may I be hungry in your vicinity.’

It’s stupid, he knows. He’s anxious for your answer anyway.

Steve has a very love/hate relationship with having you essentially trapped in the Tower. On the one hand, you’re starved for interaction and the choice of your surroundings. On the other hand, he gets you all to himself. He’s ashamed of how much he enjoys that perk. Somewhere deep inside, he hopes whatever Fisk is after is never resolved, but that’s wishful—and terribly selfish—thinking.

Just in case going on a deliberate date with him isn’t offer enough, Steve can return your client’s jacket. He hung it in his locker when changing into the tactical suit. It’s safe, but he’ll get it after his debrief. That’s a good excuse. That’ll work.

You’re happy and excited, only making him more nervous, but it’s progress. He’s done ‘round noon after the long meeting scheduled to start in, yikes, fifteen minutes, and you quickly agree. Steve floats on cloud nine, bouncing his foot until dismissed so he can rush back up to you.

He isn’t expecting to see Tony in your bubble.

“You don’t know me, Stark. How dare you!” Your face twists in fury. “Screw this,” you shout, frantic in grabbing your essentials from the table. “I don’t answer to you. I don't need this. Someone else will get my things.”

Steve doesn’t understand why you won’t meet his eye or speak to him as you barrel past. He’s too stunned to follow you to the elevator, it feels imposing to race down and corner you in the lobby, but he marches up to Tony with wide eyes.

“What the hell happened?”

Tony waves him off, cagy and dismissive, rushing off upstairs to his lab, and Steve almost asks if this is about Fisk. If it’s not and he blabs, then you’ll definitely be angry at him. If he grills Tony too much, there might be something that gives away that Steve lied about having a significant other as his guest for two weeks. If Steve admits that he doesn’t even have your number, the jig is 100% up.

But he knows you have his number, he knows he still has a jacket you’ll want back, and he knows one thing he’s incredibly good at.

So Steve waits, ready to apologize, ready to grovel, ready to yell at Tony for whatever. He is just ready and waiting.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @darsynia

[Next Part]

[Light Masterlist; Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[klausysworld]

I love your writing it’s so good!! Maybe a story where klaus treats reader really bad as he sees her like nothing more than a pet until one day he hurts her really bad out of anger and feels guilty. You can choose what goes on from there thank you

(Trigger warning for physical and psychological abuse!!)

Petrified

Y/N was a quiet little thing. Kept out of the way and made sure to be seen not heard.

Klaus liked that, he took advantage of that. Y/N was pretty, easy to pull around like a trophy. She was pure when he met her, he could smell her innocence.

It was too easy to corrupt that. Take it away from her and twist until it was so deformed she didn't recognise herself.

He had hurt her before. Bruises staining her soft skin and making her insides ache uncomfortably when he left her empty again. Often her body would suffer for his pleasure, she would never say no to him, didn't really know how.

Besides, in all honesty she fell in love with him without realising it.

For all his roughness and rage, he had moments when he would gentle even if just for a moment.

He would carry her into his bath tub, settle her down into the water when he could see her struggling to move much at all. She would be pet slowly, like a person would an injured animal. That's when she would feel safe, when his hands were gingerly touching her skin, a low hum in mouth which soothed something within her.

"You know that I need you, pet." He would murmur to her, his lips beside her ear as he washed the soap away. "I love you." Klaus would tell her so earnestly that it felt so real.

The bruises he left on her were never out of malice. She knew they were heat of the moment, his version of passion. It was a sign that he had enjoyed himself, enjoyed her. That she had been enough for him.

And when he twirled her around on the dance floor, in the dress he had made for her, she wanted to stay with him forever.

When she would be curled up against his side whilst he sketched her delicate face and rest his head against hers, it felt right.

Something about him always felt right to her. She trusted him even when she knew he wasn’t worthy.

Sometimes he would yell at her, often no anger was actually aimed at her but he would still take out his temper on her. Scream and shout and watch her whimper and flinch.

Usually he would actually feel bad, especially when she would really cry. Her body would have gone into defence and she'd be on the floor, clinging to his legs like a helpless child as she begged him not to hurt her.

Klaus wasn't sure if she'd faced someone's wrath in the past but something told him that she had.

She knew how to make his guilt swirl, how to snap him out of it before he could lay a hand on her.

Truthfully he didn't want to actually hurt her, he was never angry with her. She just happened to be the easiest to take it out on. She loved him and he knew that, he could use that.

He knew he could wrap his arms around her and tell her he didn't mean it and she would snuggle his chest, whimpering like a sad puppy as she tried to tell him it was okay.

He couldn't help but treat her like an actual pet sometimes, she just seemed so much like one.

Klaus enjoyed stroking her hair, her skin. Sometimes he enjoyed feeding her, bringing the fork to her mouth. It was nice to take care of someone and know that they appreciated it, appreciated him. That's the same reason he cleaned her up, he liked that she wanted him to be there.

He loved her in his own broken and selfish way. The feel of her, sound of her, look of her. She was perfect and part of him wished that he had just treated her good from the start, wondered if she'd look at him with a different type of love. Would it be weaker or stronger?

But he wouldn't know, he couldn't. It had gone too far, too deep.

She was his lover, yes, but also his scapegoat.

Sometimes he didn't think much when he took it out on her.

This time was especially bad.

Y/N had been with Klaus for years, before his curse was broken. She had been through heaven and hell with that man as he went through all stages of grief, rage and happiness.

She didn't get upset when he slept with other people, she was his but he wasn't hers and she understood that. Which was why she had her own apartment within the house, her own room, bathroom, mini kitchen and a sofa with a tv. The room blocked out the sound so she wouldn't hear him, he gave her that much.

So even when Hayley wound up pregnant, Y/N stayed beside him. Hands entwined as he lead her inside the compound and up to her new room which was still an en suite with a TV.

"I know there's no separate kitchen, pet, but I can get one installed with some time. I got you a new comforter though and a toy." He smiled, she nodded quietly and accepted the new room and the toy. It wasn't a dirty gift, but a teddy for comfort. Often she had a bear of sorts that would smell of him and give her a strange sense of comfort. After so many years, she depended on him like a real pet,

"Thank you, Nik." She whispered and he smiled, bending down to kiss her lips softly.

"You're going to be such a good girl. I just know you'll be so good with the baby, won't you?" He murmured and she nodded.

Klaus knew she had secretly loved the idea of being a mother, he saw that glimmer when he looked at Hayley's belly.

"I can hold her?" She asked, eyes looking up at him and full of hope.

"You know that I trust you." He told her, and he did. She had never once done anything to betray him.

The same could not be said for his own family. Rebekah especially.

Elijah had made the mistake of putting Y/N in Klaus's way.

He was very clearly ready for a rampage, eyes gold and veins bulging as he stormed back into the compound.

Camille hadn't been able to stop him from chasing Rebekah but he still had to let her go. The fact that she and Marcel had gotten away with something so horrific sent him well over the edge and somehow Elijah though Y/N would fix that.

He had seen Klaus's mood change around his 'pet' but he had never seen the full process. He didn't know she'd have to scream and sob for him to finally realise how terrifying he was being. People had only seen the before and after, not the process.

So nobody knew what was happening when she just couldn't get him to stop throwing things, to stop yelling and screeching at her. Nobody heard the sharp cut off of Y/N's cry when the back of his hand whacked her so hard that her neck snapped to the side.

That was what brought him back.

The thud of her body. The silence.

No begging, no apologies and pleas.

She wasn't dead, he could hear her scratchy breathing from how her neck had broken awkwardly.

Time froze for a second as all of his features softened and he knelt down, his hand touching her arm and she flinched which made her choke on the little air left in her.

"It's okay..." He whispered, hands supporting her poor head as he lifted her. "I'm so sorry, Y/N." He uttered, using her name. She almost never heard her name anymore.

A weak sound left her as a sharp little pain tingled through her arm.

"It's okay, it's just a needle." He told her, gently cupping her face and snapping it back into place making her scream. "It's my blood, you're healing." He informed her so she wasn't panicking even more as the banging in her head faded.

She didn't make another noise as he lifted her up, laying her down in her bed and sitting beside her. She was looking right at him but it was like she couldn't communicate at all. He had petrified her.

A quiet whine vibrated in his throat at the sight and realisation.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, his hands trying to soothe her. His touch was light and hesitant, he didn't want to hurt her again.

Over the course of their years together he hadn't ever scared her this bad, or brought her that close to death. For all his faults, he loved her and her death would change him for the worse. He needed her more than he needed the heart in his chest.

Elijah had gotten a little anxious when a few hours went by and there was still no sign of Klaus. So he went to check on how Y/N had handled him.

The door opened silently, not a single creek from the door as he stepped into her room. Nobody but she and Klaus had ever gone inside and he could tell my the strong mix of their scents. His steps were light and cautious as he turned the corner and saw them both in her bed, Klaus's arms wrapped around her and holding onto her like she might disappear.

Y/N looked ready to throw up and pass out.

It was obvious something was wrong.

Klaus hadn't even noticed his brother in the room. His attention was stuck on her, his hands and lips had been gently caressing her neck in an attempt to wash away the hurt he had caused it. Elijah could see her tensing beneath his touch and trying to relax a little after, her hands were clutching a stuffed bear like a frightened child.

Silently, Elijah retreated and closed the door. A sense of guilt bubbled in his stomach as he realised his brother had hurt the girl, or his pet as he called her. He sighed quietly to himself, his hands rubbing down his face as his mind flicked over every moment that brought Niklaus to be the monster that he was now. His head shook and he headed to his own room, Y/N wasn't his business.

She was Klaus's, she would forgive him and she would love him. He would look after her extra well for a few weeks maybe even a month or two before anything else got bad and even then it wouldn't get this bad again. At least, Y/N hoped it wouldn't.

[solxamber]

Hello! I humbly request Skully J. Graves for the spooky season, please and thank you! (Ps, I LOVE YOUR VILLIANESS SERIES SO MUCH. if you put him in the series, I would love it. Thank you.

Frights and Fancies - Skully J. Graves x reader

I've finally finished the first part of the Halloween event story and here we go! Skully J. Graves for the spooky season!

(this was written before part 2 of the event was out so it might be ooc)

It was almost Halloween, and the Ramshackle Dorm looked like it had exploded in pumpkins, cobwebs, and fake skeletons. Well, not fake enough for Skully, who was currently trying to rearrange a skeleton to perfectly mimic Jack Skellington’s iconic pose.

“This is it! This is exactly how Jack looked when he stood atop Spiral Hill!” Skully beamed, leaning back with a gleeful twirl. “I could cry!”

“Please don’t,” Grim muttered, slumped on the couch like a cat who’d had enough of life. “I’ve seen way too much Halloween today. I’m exhausted.”

You stifled a laugh as Skully pranced across the room, his long coat flowing behind him dramatically. He stopped by a cobweb you’d just hung, delicately adjusting it with reverence. “Ah, this is a masterpiece! The precision, the artistry—oh, Jack would be proud!”

“I bet Jack has a restraining order,” Grim mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Skully didn’t seem to notice the sass. “You don’t understand, Grim! Jack Skellington is the Pumpkin King! He is the very soul of Halloween! Imagine... if I could bring him here, right to this very dorm... oh, we would throw the greatest Halloween party the world has ever seen!”

“You’re throwing it right now, and I hate it,” Grim muttered, pulling a pillow over his head.

Skully, undeterred, rushed over to the pile of pumpkins by the door, holding up the largest one like a trophy. “This one’s going to be the pièce de résistance! I’m going to carve Jack’s face into it—oh, the precision, the skill! It’ll be a tribute!”

You were barely able to stop yourself from laughing as Skully started sketching an intricate face into the pumpkin. It was hard not to get caught up in his excitement, even if it was a little... obsessive.

“Hey, uh, shouldn’t we maybe, I don’t know, check the snacks or something?” you suggested, trying to save Grim from further mental collapse. “We’ve got a whole room full of sweets to prepare.”

“Oh! Of course!” Skully jumped to his feet, pumpkin forgotten. “We must create a feast worthy of Halloween Town itself! Grim, you’ll love this—there will be so many sweets, you won’t be able to handle it!”

“Sounds like my personal hell,” Grim groaned, finally sitting up. “Do we have to? I was kinda hoping to nap.”

Skully was already halfway to the kitchen, humming some eerie tune under his breath. You shot Grim an apologetic look, but he was too busy glaring at the ceiling like he was making a pact with some unseen force to end Halloween forever.

The kitchen was soon filled with the smells of spiced pumpkin and sugary treats. Skully was in his element, flitting around like a Halloween-obsessed ghost, talking nonstop about Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King, and all the Halloween traditions from his foggy village.

“And no one here at school even knows about Jack!” Skully was saying for probably the twentieth time. “Can you believe that? It’s like they’ve never even heard of Halloween!”

“Maybe they’re lucky,” Grim grumbled, stuffing his face with a pumpkin tart.

Skully either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. He had already moved on to decorating cookies, carefully icing tiny skeleton faces onto each one. “Jack’s elegance, his charisma! He’s the epitome of what Halloween should be.”

“Jack this, Jack that...” Grim sighed dramatically. “If I hear that name one more time—”

“I could name the pumpkin Jack,” Skully suggested, completely serious.

“No!” Grim snapped. “Let the pumpkin live its own life! Let it be free!”

You snorted, almost dropping the tray of cupcakes you were setting out. Skully blinked, confused for just a moment, before smiling his usual charming smile. “Ah, Grim, you always know how to liven things up.”

“I’m this close to being a ghost myself,” Grim muttered.

By the time the evening rolled around, Ramshackle Dorm had been transformed into a veritable Halloween haven. Cobwebs draped across the walls, pumpkins lined every surface, and the faint glow of eerie lights filled the air. Skully stood in the center of it all, arms wide open as he surveyed his masterpiece.

“This... this is the Halloween of my dreams,” Skully said softly, his voice full of awe. “I couldn’t have done it without you two.”

Grim gave a halfhearted wave from his spot on the couch, already half-asleep again, but Skully’s gratitude was genuine. You smiled, watching as he twirled around one more time, completely in his element.

“Well,” you said, “if Jack Skellington could see this, I’m sure he’d be impressed.”

Skully’s face lit up like a jack-o’-lantern. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, adjusting a crooked pumpkin. “You’ve done Halloween proud.”

Skully gave a deep bow, flourishing his coat as if he were addressing royalty. “Then, in Jack’s name, I thank you both!”

From the couch, Grim groaned. “I’m gonna need a vacation after this…”

As Skully danced around the room, humming Halloween tunes and praising Jack Skellington, you couldn’t help but smile. Sure, it had been a lot of work, but seeing Skully so happy—and hearing Grim’s constant complaints—made it all worth it.

This was going to be a Halloween to remember.

Masterlist

Also I'd love to add him the the villainess series, but I'll wait till atleast part 2 of the Halloween event to completely understand him before I do!

[kryannoy]

Can we see Andrew with Reader raising their own children?

genre: fluff, sfw

character: husband!andrew graves x reader

a/n: sorry for taking a bit too long, i didn't notice the ask TT i'm sorry!

First of all, I can totally see he'd be a girl dad.

The first time he ever held his firstborn, he fell in love. Her skin was so soft and smooth, she weighs like a feather yet heavy enough to know she's a healthy baby. Her eyes still shut from the world but her mouth was open slightly, snoring peacefully. He was so scared to hold her yet so excited.

Sometimes he thinks he's not worthy of holding such a pure soul in his filthy and dirty hands, but you were there to reassure him that she was his child too.

He didn't know how to hold a baby properly so he had to sit next to you on the bed as you show him the ropes. He was tense and stiff when he had his daughter in his arms.

But those eyes . . . his eyes showed pure and spiritual love. His eyes never left the baby. And the smile, oh, how happy he was to finally have a proper family with you. To start anew.

Andrew loves to take over for you when you need a nice shower, or when you're cooking meals. He'll be willing to make sure the toddler doesn't cry nor upset when mommy isn't around.

Bedtime with daddy is somehow the best time. Why? Because he'll read her to sleep or even make up a story. Sometimes, he'll make an immersive storytelling by acting it out. And those times, you hear laughter in the kid's room rather than silence.

On a tiring day of work for Andrew, your daughter wants to surprise him by wearing a cute sparkly dress, crown, cape, wand and makeup. Of course you did just that and brought her downstairs to meet with daddy slouching in the living room.

His green eyes light up and his face brightens once again. He'll compliment the little one, take her hand and twirl her around. He wants nothing more than his precious daughter to be treated this way by a man when she grows up, to let her know this is how she should be treated.

The sight of your beloved man holding your daughter's hand makes you wonder a little, what happens when he sees his daughter in a prom dress? Or a wedding gown? Would he tear up? What kind of expression would he make?

But all he knows is he wants to be the kind of father who would be there for his kids.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Okay, male who’s good with daggers and a double bladed staff, training in the forest where it’s just filled with fog, Vic'tao and Uihoy who watched reader train, decided he’s a perfect partner for them. But reader puts up a good fight, but was still taken by the 2 back to the ship.

A Worthy Challenge

Pairing: Vic'tao (male Yautja) x Reader x Uihoy (Male Yautja)

Word Count: 2770

Summary: A dense fog covers the area. The path you take worn down over the years. Every tree, every rock you pass, you know by heart. You followed the carved out trail to a small open space in the middle of the forest. Your little space carved out for yourself. This is where you go to train, to work on your skills with your staff. Until you are challenged by an unknown opponent.

Author Note: They get one look at him and go this is mine now. They literally just yoinked him.

Masterlist

Ao3

Nearly everyday, in the same spot you’ve claimed as your own, you perfected your skills. Years upon years have built up the necessary talents and muscles to wield these weapons you use as an extension of yourself. In your hand was a dual bladed staff. A weapon you spent a pretty penny on to get your hands on it.

The metal handle has been worn over time. From countless hours of it being wielded by yours truly. It no longer shines in the light.

Thick, heavy fog blanketed your training area. Not that bothered you. Since you were little, you’ve gone to this little slice of solitude from the raging world. The pathing lone worn by your feet. The area marked with your intials carved into a nearby tree. This was yours.

A deep breath filled your lungs with the nearly suffocating air. Your eyes drifted shut. You begun to lightly twirl the staff around and understood its weight completely. It moved where you wanted at each twitch of your muscles. It wasn’t just some staff. No, it was part of you.

Some of the moves you preformed were more similar to dancing. A way to loosen up your muscles before you began your true training. A warmup. Each use of the staff make your blood pump faster. Your heart started to quicken. The love for this skill you’ve honed was deep withing your heart. You opened your eyes and stopped while holding the staff horizontal.

Despite the fog thickening the air, you decided to keep pushing. Within your mind, you imagined an enemy. They stood on the other side of your space and threatened your way of life. You set a steeled glare on the figure and shifted into a fighting stance. Both ends of your staff ready to push this figure back.

You imagined them lunging first and wanted to establish a dominance over you. They went for offense first, anything to catch you off guard. Their own dual blades held firmly in their hands as they leaped for an attack. Swiftly, you rolled out of the way and blocked a hit meant to cleave your head off. Deep within your brain, you could imagine the clang of metal nearly deafening.

They go for fake swing to catch you off guard. Yet, the shift of their feet told you the story before they even spoke a word. You allow for them to swing at you again. To let them have the satisfaction of believing they had you. But you wanted this fight drawn out, to wear them down, to have them on their knees before you.

A snarl twisted on your face when one of their blades nicked you. The pain only adding to the fuel you pooled inside of you. You continued to push, not allowing this imaginary person to feel the satisfaction of injuring you.

In the middle of your fake fighting scenario, you were thrown off when you felt a gaze upon you. A shutter ran down your spine at the feeling. You paused. The scene fading away to the grey fog clouding the area. Your heartbeat thundered loudly in your ears. This feeling that grew made you incredibly uneasy. This wasn’t a feeling you’ve felt before. It made you believe you were… being hunted.

A predatory gaze.

Your jaw clenched, eyes flickering around to spot even the hint of what stalked you. All you could see was the shadow of familiar trees and bushes that filled the space. Your hand tightened around the shaft of the weapon, ready to defend yourself if someone or something leapt out. A cold sweat dripped down the length of your spine.

As much as you would love to fight this something, you felt it in the pits of your stomach this was a fight you wouldn’t win. You took a step back to head towards your stuff when your back pressed into a warm chest. A yelp tore from your throat. You leapt forward and spun around, weapon at the ready.

There stood a dark yellow humanoid figure. One that towered over you. Metal armor adorned its muscular, well fit statue. Metal covered where its face would be, blocking its features from you. Even the mask held a terrifying, blank stare that pinned you to the spot. Whatever this thing was, you were fucked.

In one of its massive hands was a staff of its own. A fight. It wanted a fight. You weren’t going to be making a run for it.

It pointed the tip of its staff at you, challenging you. You forced down the lump in your throat and filled your lungs with the thick air. If this thing desired a challenge from you, you were going to compete to the best of your ability. Even if it killed you. Which it might.

“You want a fight?” you asked for clarification and steeled your glare on the creature. Just imagine this fight like all the ones you’ve gone through. All the times you’ve come out on top. This is just another fight. Nothing new about it.

A sharp nod is your answer. “Fine, I’ll give you a fight. But first, let me grab something.” You took a wide berth around it to put on your belt. A belt that held your throwing knives. Anything to give you an edge to it. The more weapons, the higher chance you have against this massive figure. It was at least a foot taller if not more.

You took a few steps away to open the playing field some more. With the fog adding to the ambience of what could be your death, you tightened your grip on your dual bladed staff. The dense fog nearly made it difficult to see the figure standing less than twenty feet away from you.

The two of you stared the other down. It twitched it’s foot, a clear sign of its next move. Suddenly, it dashed forward and pushed strictly into your space. The sudden appearance of it scared the living daylights out of you. It took every ounce of muscle memory to throw up your weapon to block a hit that could possibly stabbed straight into your brain cavity.

But it didn’t stop. The beast kept pushing. You gritted your teeth and forced yourself to turn offense. Anything to get the upper hand before it got the best of you.

With a swift shove of your staff, you were able to knock its own out of the way long enough to make a quick swipe at its torso. Neon green blood spilt from the newly created wound at your hands. Your jaw dropped at the sight, but you weren’t given long to pounder what this thing was before it was upon once more.

When you blocked another hit, the metal in your hands revibrating harshly. The tip of its staff skimming off of your bicep. Your own blood added to the mixture.

The pain flared only once before you narrowed your focus back onto the creature. It darted forward with its weapon again and aimed at your stomach this time. You twisted away and used a leg to go between there legs. With a swift pull, you were able to knock it to its knees.

A grunt sounded from it. Before you had time to even understood you had downed it, your neck had been grabbed. The dual bladed staff knocked clean from your hands. You choked and clawed at the hand currently lifting you off of the ground. Your legs kicked out in hopes to somehow knock it down and escape from its clutches.

To no avail.

It pulls you close to it and bellows lowly from the depths of its chest. From behind its mask, it begin to chitter and click. As if talking. Not that you could answer in the moment but you found it odd. You couldn’t understand in the first place.

Through the fog, a shadow formed and grew darker and darker before a form appeared through the thick of it. The whites of your eyes were clearly visible at the new appearance. It looked to be the same build of the creature currently holding. Then, the new one, a dark purple, began to converse with its friend.

A little back and forth bickering occurred before the purple one pointed towards you with a harsh tone in its voice. You were promptly dropped onto the ground and coughed hard. Your lung surged for fresh air and gulped every last bit they could take.

Before you could fully recover, you were nabbed by the back of your belt and lifted onto a shoulder. There wasn’t time to even reach for your staff that the yellow one picked up. Once the shock wore off, you began to kick at your kidnapper.

An idea popped inside of your head. The belt. The throwing knives. You reached for your waist when the end of a pointed staff was aimed at your neck. Instantly, you paused and swallowed down a lump in your throat. Your hand timidly dropped down back over the creatures shoulder. The weapon was pulled away but the warning stuck like glue to you. You didn’t have the balls to attempt fate once more.

This position wasn’t comfortable for you with the front of the belt pressing into your belly. No matter how much you wiggled to either make it less unbearable or to be put down, neither of those happened. You had to take it like a champ.

It wasn’t long before both of them stopped and you heard a hiss of gasses being released. You attempted to peer over their shoulder but the claws holding you down pressed into your skin more. A quiet yelp sounded from you. You relaxed with a grumble, unsure where these things were taking you. Not that you could do much with the position you’re in. No weapon and it’s a two verses one deal. You would be getting the short end of the stick.

Something softly touched the ground. The purple one lead with you on its shoulder up a metal ramp. They carried you into… a space ship? You questioned deeply, unsure if you were dreaming or not at the moment. Your jaw dropped at the sight unfolding before you.

Mostly everything in your sight was made of metal. There were some things painted. It wasn’t all boring metal either. But patterns lined the walls, floors, and ceiling of this room they hauled you through. You tried to take in every turn they took in case you could book it out of here. With the way the one you fought was watching you like a hawk, that chance was little.

The purple one came to stop and let you slip down its shoulder. Your feet gingerly touched the metal floors. Instantly, you backed away and put up your fists in a defensive position. As much as you didn’t care for hand to hand combat, you were ready. Anything to give you a chance to escape wherever they’ve taken you or will.

Yellow snorted with their shoulders jerking up. A heavy glare was set on it as you carefully observed them.

Despite their faces being covered, you could tell these things weren’t human. The rough scales that covered their shoulders and sides of their thighs were any indication. Plus, their size and height was unnatural. Then, there was their primitive armor. Yet, here you stand inside what must be an alien spacecraft. You didn’t know to be honored or terrified. What could they possibly want from you? Besides the fight you had clearly lost being stuck, trapped in this room with the two of them.

For the amount of unluck in the world, you must have been up their in the top five. You had been captured by aliens.

Purple snapped its head over at Yellow with a heated glare you didn’t even need to see. Clicks and trills left their unseen mouths in rapid succession. Your fists drooped a little. Neither of them saw you as a threat. Nor did you want to test your luck again with the throwing knives again. That was a failure last time. It wasn’t going to change again.

Both seemed to come to an agreement. Their attention returned to you. Purple took a step forward. Instinctively, you reached for your knives in self-defense. A growled sounded from Yellow but the other one just huffed. At you first you thought it was for you but Yellow stood down and stepped away from you.

With this one the only one closing you, you deepened your anger, hands at the ready. It had to be the right moment to flick the knife at the approaching creature.

Except… It raised its hands as if calming a wild animal. “Do not fret, ooman.” It motioned to the two of them-“ do not mean harm.” It pointed at its chest. “Friend.” It spoke with semi-broken English. The words coming harshly off of its alien tongue. Your eyes narrowed. Words meant nothing in this situation.

Similar to a cornered animal, you snatched a knife free from the belt and with a simple wrist flick, sent it flying through the air. Right before it struck its mark, a purple hand was able to catch midflight. Your jaw dropped at the sight before you flung a few more in hopes it land on the target.

Each one was caught until you were weaponless. You cursed and repositioned yourself with your hands up, prepared to go down swinging.

Neither of them made the attempt to come after you though. You didn’t know if this was a good or bad thing to happen. That didn’t stop you from carefully watching them.

Purple dropped his hands and sighed before glancing over at his friend. Said creature grunted, arms crossed over his lean chest, your staff missing from his hands. The static metal mask he wore faced you, truly putting the fear into you. He began to march over to you. You tensed up but planted your feet, preparing for the worst.

This one came to a stop a few short of you, arms falling limp at his sides. “What my mate is trying to say is: we are not going to harm you, ooman. We are interested in you,” he explained. This time, he was more fluent in English.

Your eyes bulged out of your head at his words. ‘Interested in you’? Why did it have to be you to attract two aliens with bulging arms and beautiful voices? You swallowed down the lump in your throat and eyes the yellow on closely. “What are you trying to say?” you asked for clarification. Because why in the world did they think kidnapping you was a good idea?!

Irritated clicking sounded from underneath the metal. “You are good material for a mate,” he came out and said it straight to you. There was no beating around the bush. He just ripped off the band aid.

Mate? Like… like a partner? Romantic? You blinked at him for a few moments before breaking out into laughter. This all had to be joke right. Two aliens wanting your hand for partnership.

“Oh, man. You had me there. ‘Good mate material’! That’s funny,” you laughed and wiped away a tear that had appeared at the corner of your eye. Then, you looked back at them only to realize neither of them were laughing with you. They stated stoic. You gulped and tensed up. “You’re not kidding.” This time, you said it more as a statement than a question. You were coming to terms they were serious about their words.

Yellow grumbled then roughly pulled at tubing attached to his mask before the whole thing came off. “You are a great fighter-“ The rest of his words went straight over your head as you stared at his alien face. Instead of being disgusted, you could recognized the fact he was handsome in some terms. By gods name, what has gotten into you?!

It wasn’t long after that the other one did the same thing as well. Your eyes flickered between the two, unsure who to look at. Oh, fuck, what is wrong with you?

The purple one hooked his mask to his belt then gazed at you. You decided to stick to him for a short while. “Want to be Vic’tao and Uihoy’s mate?” he asked and motioned to the two of them. Now, this one was asking the same thing. What in the world was your answer going to be?

[foreverrandomwritings]

Hands

Summary: The 5 times Bob sees you looking at his hands and the 1 time he says something.

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x afab!Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff but gets a little 18+ NSFW at the end, Minors DNI. 

Word Count:1976

Masterlist 

One

The first time Bob ever noticed you staring at his hands was during your third date. He had picked you up from your apartment and complimented the way that you had done your hair which had a blush working its way up your chest to your cheeks. Then he drove you to a nice Italian restaurant that you had suggested. The conversation was going smoothly. You were telling him a funny story about something that had happened at work that day. He was nodding his head appropriately, listening intently and laughing at the punch line of the story.

When the food finally arrived the both of you dove into your dishes occasionally talking to each other between bites about any random thing either of you could think of. He had asked you a question about your job while twirling some spaghetti onto his fork. When you didn’t answer him right away he looked up and saw that you were staring at his hand that was holding his fork. He didn’t think much of it assuming you had just zoned out and that's where your eyes landed. 

You blinked after a moment of readjusting in your seat and shyly asked him “What was the question?” He gave you a reassuring smile before repeating the question. You answered him promptly and the awkward moment was forgotten. Once the main course was done you decided to split a piece of chocolate cake for dessert.

While eating the cake you giggled and told Bob that he had gotten some chocolate on his face. He brought the napkin from his lap up to his rosy face and wiped at the spot you had pointed at. He once again noticed your eyes fixated on his hands. But thought nothing other than you making sure he wiped it all away. 

Two

The second time he noticed you staring at his hands was while you were at the Hard Deck with the rest of the Dagger Squad. You were sitting at a table with him and Phoenix as his front seater wanted to get to know you better. He was eating some peanuts as he usually did while at the bar observing the crowd of patrons, when he heard Phoenix ask “You okay over there?” 

He looked up and noticed that you had been looking at him. More importantly looking at his hands as he cracked open a shell and moved it to his lips. He, much like your third date, assumed you had simply zoned out. Before he could say anything Payback was asking him if he wanted to play a round of pool to which he agreed knowing that Phoenix wanted some one on one time with you anyways to “talk girl stuff” as she had put it. He had been chalking the tip of the cue stick when he felt eyes on him. He looked up and noticed you looking at him again, still in conversation with Phoenix, but this time didn’t click that you were looking at his hands. 

After playing two rounds of pool he had wandered back over to the table in search of a drink. You had noticed this and handed him his root beer. He thanked you with a sparkle in his eyes, happy seeing you fit into the family he had made. Your eyes drifted down from his eyes to his hand grazing yours. He figured that you had just been making sure he had a hold of the bottle before letting go. 

Three

The third time he noticed you staring at his hands was while he was driving the both of you home from a day at the beach. He had handed you his phone when you settled into the passenger seat of his car. “Why don’t you pick some music for the drive back?” He asked you.

“Sure thing Bobby Boy.” you replied as you began scrolling through the pandora app until finding a playlist you deemed worthy. The sky was cloudy and the breeze was nice so you had your window rolled down. Your hair was whipping around your face but you had a beaming smile adorning your features.

After glancing at you a few times he noticed you looking at his hands on the wheel. You were still singing the x ambassadors song that came from the speakers in his car. After a couple of minutes he worked his right hand over to rest on top of your thigh. You had a faint blush on your face as his thumb brushed over the skin right above your knee. 

He went to move his hand off your leg thinking maybe you were uncomfortable. But you put your hand on top of his, halting his movements. So he left his hand there for the rest of the car ride. He could feel your eyes moving towards his hand every once in a while trying to be discreet. He once again thought nothing of the looks. 

Four

The fourth time he noticed you staring at his hands was while the two of you were attending a pottery class together. It was his idea as he knew you were wanting to branch out your hobbies and he thought it would be a fun activity for the two of you to do together. He for some reason was a natural where as you were struggling. The both of you were laughing as you tried to shape the sides of the bowl the way the instructor was demonstrating. 

No matter how many times you tried the bowl would collapse in on itself. You were being a good sport about the failure though. A big smile on your face trying to intently listen to the instructor give you a different instruction that should’ve helped you but seemed to only make things worse. So Bobby being the ever caring gentleman he is, got up to help you. 

His hands were covered in clay and water as they grasped your own dirty hands. He showed you how to move your thumb inside the bowl and your fingers on the outside with just enough pressure to build the wall and not make it fall down. As he was gently telling you a few tips that he had tried he noticed a smile on your face. Your eyes were following his hands on your own, eyes slightly glazed over as he pulled back. You gave him a soft “Thank you” as he sat back down on his stool. 

Five

The fifth time he noticed you staring at his hands was while he was making dinner and dessert for the both of you. You sat at his kitchen island sipping on a glass of water asking him occasional questions about what he was doing. He started with a Blackberry pie recipe he used to make with his mamaw when he was younger. 

You had mentioned before how you had never had a homemade pie and he wanted to change that. As his hands kneaded the dough for the crust occasionally reaching for more flour he answered your questions. His eyes moved up from his hands to see your eyes looking at them with the same glazed over look you had at the pottery class you had attended.

“Why are you adding so much flour to it?” You asked him slightly, cocking your head. 

“You don’t want it sticking to your hands so the more flour you add the less sticky it gets.” He replied to you and decided that you must have been paying attention to his technique in hopes of being able to make your own pie. Then he was making way to dinner. 

You had requested hamburgers, macaroni and cheese and broccoli. You volunteered to do the side dishes while he did the hamburger. As he worked all of the spices and worcestershire  sauce into the beef he noticed your eyes drift down to his hands. You were biting your lip as your eyes scanned the work he was doing. You shook your head turning back to the stove after the water for the mac and cheese started to boil and dumped in the noodles. 

Six

The sixth time he noticed you staring at his hands was the time he finally got up the guts to ask you about it. It was a quiet night between the two of you. You were deep into reading A Court of Silver Flames for the millionth time claiming this book was basically your bible at this point. Your feet were propped up on one of the ottomans you kept in your living room. There was a blanket draped over your legs and quite Jazz coming from your tv.  

Bob had been occasionally glancing up at you as your brows furrowed at certain parts. There were times that your tongue would slip between your lips wetting them as your eyes scanned the pages. Those were the spicier scenes he had come to guess. As you looked up at him he noticed the same glazed over look in your eyes that you often got when you looked at his hands. That's when it hit him all those times that you had been looking at his hands. It was lust that crawled its way through you.

He decided then and there that if you looked at his hands again that he would say something to you. So that’s what he did. You glanced up from your book and caught sight of his hands working the knitting needles skillfully with the yarn to make a pair of socks. He abruptly halted his movements and cleared his throat. You jumped at the noise, a blaze of heat taking over your face at the realization you had been caught. 

“Can I ask you a question darling?” His voice rasping around the words. You simply nodded your head in permission. “Do you have a thing for hands?” he asked you bluntly, deciding not to beat around the bush, wanting to hear the answer quickly as the bulge in his pants was rapidly growing. Your eyes were wide as your brain tried to catch up with the question. If your face was red before it must have looked like you just stepped away from a fire with the rosy hue deepening in color. You choked a little on the words that tried to make their way from you. 

Bob dropped the needles and yarn from his hands and made his way over to you. He took the book from your hands, putting the bookmark between the pages you were on. You looked at him in awe as he pulled the blanket from your legs. You were barely able to see any color in his eyes as they were clouded with lust. You had both been intimate with each other many, many times already but the look in his eyes was not one you had seen yet. You swallowed the spit that formed in your mouth at the thought of what he had planned. 

“Do you want me to show you what all I can do with my hands darling?” He asked you as his hands worked their way up your legs. You gave him a weak nod still in shock over how the night had turned. “Words please?” he prompted you as his tongue came out to swipe at his bottom lip. 

“Y-ye-y-yes please.” You finally stuttered out and that's all he needed before he was picking you up and taking you to your bedroom. Your book and his knitting long forgotten as he kissed up your neck causing a moan to slip between your lips. A chill went down your back as he moved through your door. You knew that you were in for one of the best nights of your life. You really were a sucker for hands. 

A/N: This little thing popped into my head after talking to @theeleggymeggy and @wkndwlff about hands. I am and always will be a hands girly. Also heres a little gift for you all. 

Tags(Open): @wkndwlff and @sylviebell

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

Sandor Clegane x reader

(Not proof read)

CHAPTER 1.

Read chapter 2 here

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for story- Eventual smut, 18+ only, Death, mention of death, mention of menstrual cycle, abuse, Joffrey (yes hes a warning), cussing, adult languages and themes forced marragie.

Cw for this chaper- Cursing, 18+ themes and langues, mentions of pregnancy, joffrey (yes hes a warning we all know why), abuse, Mention of child abuse (aka sandors past), death, forced marriage.

Sitting next to Sansa you watch as the joust of the season plays out ranging from knights who know what they are doing to those who have no clue and think they were worthy but instead the only thing they were worthy of was death by jousting stick to the throat. 

Joffery sits beside her, the king next to his queen. Sansa twirls the rose between her fingers not feeling the pain of the thorns ever so often pricking her finger tips. 

"What do you think about my love? Who will win this joust? "Joffrey laughs. 

“I don't know which ever you see fit to do so.” she says blankly.

“I want..him to win.” he says and points to the smaller man with the chestnut stallion. 

“Such a beautiful horse my king, and what a prize rider you should be out there to show your win and power.” she says once again as if it has been scripted. 

“I should! HA but I'm here with you! Watching is far more entertaining!” he yells the last part and the crowd cheers. 

“Sansa.” you say taking her hand seeing her bleeding fingers. You gesture to a maid and she hurries bringing a cloth and wipes off the blood. 

“Take it from her, I will not have my bride with impurities.” Joffrey says. You take the rose for her, holding it in your hands. Sansa stands and walks off with the tournament. Leaving Joffrey to sip on his wine. Continuing on with the joust a shadow slightly casts over you as you turn your head seeing Ser Sandor Clegane. You give him a light smile but his glare holds steady causing you smile to drop and your eyes to look away and back at the joust. Once again the man is taken out by the other. 

You huff and walk over to your seat sitting back down. Cersi sits next to you placing her hand on your leg before leaning into you to speak. 

“You don't have to be nice to him, you know nothing good will come out of being kind to a killer.” she says as she notices your smile at the hound. You tense up under her touch as she continues. 

“The only thing nice will get you is the same fate he found himself. His face melting in the hot coals of the fire he was pushed into.” She says. 

“Ser Gregor clegane!! And Lord Dortain!” the announcer projects and they both come to the front. Lord Dortain, your brother who has been keeping an eye on you in king's landing to make sure you're alright. 

They take their positions as they are ready and begin. The first is a miss as neither released the joust. Next they go once more and your brother knocks Gregor clean off his horse you smile clapping your hands together along with everyone else. You brother rides to the front and smiles bowing before Joffrey who seems pissed. 

“YOU!!!” Gregor yells and swings his sword knocking your brother off his horse you gasp and stand but Cersei grabs your arm. Keeping you in place from running out. As Gregor attacks, your brother hound runs down and clashes swords protecting him. The fight between brothers begins but before it can be finished Joffrey yells out. 

“STOP IT YOU FUCKING IMBICELS!!” he huffs as sandor bows leaving gregor to huff and walk off madly. Leaving Joffrey to follow after him. 

———

You walk through the halls looking for sansa but a guard blocks your way. 

“Excuse me.” You say to try and move but they don't. 

“The king wants to see you…” one says your breath hitches as you suck in air before they turn and walk, only leading you to follow whatever demise you're to meet. 

Arrived at the great hall where the throne is placed. Walking in the entire court as well as other people stand at attention to joffrey sansa standing at his side. You walk down the aisle of people and to the end of the steps to see him sitting fuming. 

“You king. You wanted to see me?” you ask curstsing before you speak again. 

“You're brother made a fool of me…OF MY HOUSE.” he yells at you. 

“Your grace its a jousting tournament. I'm sure he had no intention of mockery.” you say he frowns and waves his hand as ser meryn hits you across the face causing you to fall to your knees you see Sansa about to run to you but she holds herself together. 

“Killing you would send your brother a message. A message so inflatable that you should learn to tell him no such reward will be given!!” he says holding out a sword towards you before standing up and taking one step down. 

“Ser merryn strip her, a fool loves to entertain and i'm sure her body’s view would be entertaining to all.” he huffs out ser merryn rips open the back of your dress. 

“NO!” You scream out holding the fabric to your body as he tries to tear it away from you eventually hitting you again and kicking you before continuing to tear the fabric. 

“WAIT- '' Joffrey says before you're fully exposed. Ser merryn steps back a bit. 

“I've thought of a better lesson to teach. A fool deserves the golden treatment for they make those among us laugh…so I shall have the biggest laugh of them all and make a joke…I'll have to send the message to your family of course...but dog is in need of a bitch and i think you fit the description perfectly.'' Joffrey chuckles.

“Hound. Are you going to let your future wife sit bare in front of King's landing?” he says chuckling once more before the hound sighs and walks down the stairs to you he raises his hand and you flinch but when you feel the warmth of his large cape surrounding you, you look up before moving your gaze back down. 

“Congratulations on the engagement.” jofferry laughs. 

“Here's a present.” he says as the door opens having two people carrying a silver platter with a dome on time as it gets closer you open your mouth to scream but nothing comes out besides the tears waterfalling from your eyes as you see Dortains head on it. 

“An early wedding gift!! A tribute if you will..a lesson, to you, to your family. Now of course nothing went to waste. Ha ha i sent his body to your family and fed his cock and ball to the dogs.” joffrey signs and sits back down. 

“You've got a wedding to plan for. Don't you.” he says looking at you. You look down feeling hurt and scared. Your brother is no longer without your family having to see what happened to him. Someone picks you up as you realize it's sandor. He holds you in his arms. 

“Get her out of my sight.” Joffrey scoffs. Sandor nods and turns walking out of the room, your ladies in waiting running after you both. 

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

ughhhhh vaggie in charlie's jacket feels....

now im imagining Freshly Kicked To The Curb Vaggie and painfully already-in-love Charlie

imagining Charlie wrapping this bleeding dumpster lady in her JACKET (for comfort) (and protection) (Vaggie doesn't figure out the second part until the Oh Shit You're Literally The Princess Of Hell reveal) and Vaggie's just lost a set of limbs / suddenly can't FLY which is a little terrifying so she keeps her back to the nearest wall and is always crossing her arms to hide how she's hugging herself

and Charlie's like Hmmm (wraps Vaggie in jacket) (Vaggie gives it back at the end of the day) (wraps Vaggie in jacket again) (Vaggie gives it back while saying goodnight) (Charlie finds Vaggie curled up in a corner somewhere fitully asleep-> Vaggie wakes up snuggled in The Jacket)

until Vaggie FINALLY accepts the offer to stay with Charlie for a bit while she's healing (Charlie squees) and this is represented with Vaggie NOT giving the jacket back before heading off to bed (Charlie literally whoops and combusts the moment Vaggie's (mostly) out of earshot-)

it's the start of a very sweet friendship BUT

Vaggie secretly planning to try contacting the angels during the next extermination and prove she deserves to come back

holding Charlie at arm's length during this bc

which is scarier???

A.) pretty demon lady is after her SOUL

or!

B.) Charlie having an actual crush on her????? with feelings?

feelings that Vaggie now has to worry about not hurting while trying not to be too flattered by the whole excruciating thing

(the irony of a demon saving her and tending to her and falling for her)

as she's trying not to think about all this Vaggi's getting a little panicked over how her wings still aren't growing back (sign she really isn’t worthy of heaven???)

and Charlie's trying so hard to help her with this! (even not knowing what all of THIS really is)

she knows Vaggie

1.) had wings

(moth instead of angel as per cover story)

2.) is freaking out at them being gone, even more than over her lost eye, feeling like she’s not good enough without them

(pause and imagine Vaggie constantly being found by Charlie on high up places, silently staring up at the shiny star of heaven, and Charlie’s like oh yes this is VERY moth-like behavior i can totally see why you became a moth demon! and Vaggie’s like hahaha yeah sure right definitely…)

(her being shit at lying isn't such a problem when Charlie is so so so ready to assume the best of people) (GUILT)

oooghghghhghgh

Charlie spending the year healing Vaggie's physical injuries

slowly discovering the other ones she can't see

trying to let Vaggie know she's perfect even without wings

or her missing eye

trying NOT to come on too hard or fast even through she's on the outs with her dad and her mom hasn't answered a call or been seen in years and

and Vaggie can make her LAUGH with just a dry word or roll of the eye

she just seems to like hanging out with Charlie?

not trying to get anything from her or get her kicks out of making fun of her

sure she's skeptical about the whole "redeeming sinners" thing but

she Listens

and she's skeptical because she's Taking The Idea SERIOUSLY

seriously enough to talk like it's a thing worth trying and if Charlie's gonna try it then she needs to think about this and this and this other problem first-

it's encouragement

it's friendship

it's almost like having someone to rely on

Now it’s extermination eve

And Vaggie is cleaning up the spare room she's been staying in. like she won't be coming back tonight

Vaggie's as healed (physically) as she can be, she's twirling an angelic spear around like it's part of her, crediting her dancing talent for this natural skill, clearly fine keeping herself safe on hell's streets-

Vaggie claims she found the spear behind a dumpster

(doesn't mention she's the one who stashed it there)

Charlie trying weakly to lightening the mood by joking how you can find the best things next to dumpsters sometimes

(she's not joking)

(she's looking at Vaggie when she says it)

(Vaggie just barely pretends not to notice)

Vaggie despairing she isn’t worthy (of heaven or of-?)

she might as well just wander out and let an exorcist judge her wingless back and finish the job in some ironic justice because that would be better than telling Charlie the truth,

(she's done terrible things... and has spent all this time wanting to go back to that)

(there are KIDS in hell!)

(Charlie's in hell)

(it's not all terrible or evil

and Charlie thinks sinners can be redeemed-)

(would she say the same thing about Vaggie if she knew?)

GUILT

(is all of this doubt just Vaggie being a terrible angel like Lute said...)

she has to go, but she, can’t outright lie to Charlie either (If Charlie asks if they'll see each other around-)

So Vaggie, takes off Charlie's jacket and, hands it back

And Charlie finally accepts Vaggie might not want to stick around.

Thinking Vaggie wants to go do her own thing in hell

(people leaving in one way or another is something Charlie knows about)

but maybe Vaggie also feels indebted to her, to Charlie, for the help

and might be being held back by that

It's not much- being given the chance to tell someone she's loves it's okay to go- it hurts like hell, but it's something. It's something that Vaggie didn't just vanish, and Charlie will hold onto that small thing for dear life

Smiling through her tears Charlie tries hyping her new friend up

(via song of course)

telling her ANYONE should be glad to share even a few seconds of forever with her, they

(hypothetical they totally not Charlie speaking here)

should be grateful to spend all of eternity even with just a memory of her

(CHARLIE FELL FAST AND OBVIOUS AND CANNOT EFFFING HIDE IT)

so she

says Vaggie should go spread her metaphorical wings

because she doesn't need real ones to be amazing

And that’s when Vaggie realizes-her wings- she doesn't want to leave Charlie

(is that why her wings won't grow back..?)

She doesn’t go out during the extermination. Or try talking to the angels.

She turns right around and is there to give Charlie a hug

holds her through the worst of it

goes with her afterwards to help how they can

watches Charlie reaching out to the surviving sinners even as she gets nothing but fear and insults for her trouble

sees how much Charlie CARES about the people of hell   

she finally understands, finally starts to catch a glimpse, of how just much she cares for Charlie herself

And that when she falls harder

Ka-thwump

when Charlie sees Vaggie totally not hugging herself again she offers the jacket

(offers, instead of just putting it on her)

and Vaggie smiles a little but says nah, she likes how it looks on Charlie better

(charlie VERY glad she has a natural permanent blush)

(not that her little hair twirl doesn't give her away)

Charlie leads her to a roof top later because even with everything else going on she’s noticed Vaggie’s been quieter than usual, and it is the anniversary of her losing her eye and wings, and Charlie knows staring up at heaven is something Vaggie likes doing, so-

But when she glances shyly over, Vaggie isn’t looking up at the sky.

Vaggie’s looking back at HER.

Vaggie smiling and saying something along the lines of

"lending a hand to the souls of the damned is pretty fulfilling work. A girl could get used to this"

Charlie (usually a living firework of emotion) very softly and hesitantly asking,

"yeah..?"

Vaggie promising her-

"next year, we'll prep better ahead of time"

Charlie smiling with tears again (happy ones) as they look out across pentagram city together, leaning into each other

"Yeah.

we will"

Uguugugugugughhh

[the-fluff-piece]

heyyyy idk if your follower milestone event is still happening but can i get 1😭 Law?

Like Law doesn't think he's worthy enough. ANGST BUT FLUFFY

love your works!!

For you the event will be eternally running!

Sorry I am taking forever to finish these!

For the now closed follower milestone event.

Also check out my other stuff:

My Masterlist - Short and Multichapter stories

Headcanon Masterlist

I also didn't forget about the other request, so I will write that, too.

Broken

Law knows that he is not very sociable, that he's absolutely broken inside and has more emotional luggage than any other.

It never bothered him, though. He was comfortable keeping his distance: to his crew, the straw hats, everyone. Until he met you, and he felt like an empty loser unfit to make you happy Contains: negative self talk by Law, hurt/comfort, angst

Since Law and you became a couple, the devil powered, tattooed bad boy revealed so many facets to his character, you felt like he would forever stay a mystery. He was sometimes moody, sometimes, on rare occasions, he was giddy, he loved to tell you about his obscure interests. And sometimes, he just wanted to stay silent, not talking but insisting on staying near you.

And since you were visiting the strawhat crew on the Thousand Sunny, he was like a brooding child and almost a little bit hurtful in his isolation. He almost seemed mad.

You decided to let him have his alone time and enjoy your stay on the beautiful ship. They sure had a lot of commodities the submarine didn't have: a bar, a big bath, absolutely delicious food! You knew that a tasty treat was awaiting you as the handsome cook of the strawhats danced toward you, set a small masterpiece of a dessert in front of you and kneeled down to kiss your hand. You had to giggle - his small beard tickled your hand and his campy flirtiness did the rest. What a strange guy! He made a bit of smalltalk as you enjoyed the tea and dessert before he moved on to woo the women of his own crew.

You looked around for your boyfriend, who had decided to sit down in a dark corner and be grumpy. This amount of brooding was strange, even for him. You decided to finish your afternoon snack and sit down next to him to see if you could find out what was bothering him.

"Hey" You said softly as you sat down next to him in the lush grass. He didn't answer, instead, he lowered his gaze so that his hat obscured his face.

You got a bit closer and put your head on his shoulder, like you often did - he shrugged you off and moved away.

"Law?" You got a bit irrited at his behavior.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?" You asked, already thinking about possible reasons for his reaction to you.

Law

She looked lovely out there in the sun. The blonde cook courted her like the goddess she was - while Law could only sit in the shadows, watching like the creep he was. He looked down on his hands and read the letters on his fingers. Death. The only companion he ever really had. He looked at his inked hand and for the first time in his life, he regretted it.

The cook didn't have tattoos. His skin was light and smooth, his hair shone golden in the sun. He made her giggle and twirl her hair around her finger. She looked so cute, so full of light and life. Unlike him.

Death. That was all he could tell about and bring to others. No joy, no life. Sometimes he battled death, when he saved a patient. But he was still using his power primarily to hurt. He felt like a monster next to her kindness and softness.

He thought about everyone he lost - everyone he failed to save. His family. His town. Cora-san. He was afraid he would loser her, too. Would it hurt more if she left him for the blonde one? Or if one of his enemies sliced her open before his eyes? He made a lot of enemies.

Lost in thought, he didn't even register her approach until her beautiful voice graced his ears. Not now, he couldn't be who she deserved right now, could only be the surgeon of death, incapable of flirting or kindness. She got nearer, her scent and warmth, usually a ripping him out of his brooding, painfully reminded him of what he would lose if she realised who he really was - what he had done. How broken he was.

Her small head lay on his shoulder, he didn't deserve that, he moved away. He had to protect her from himself and the pain he reliably brought to those around him.

"Law?" She asked, irritated. "What's wrong? Did I do something?"

You're too perfect. You're too nice. Too everything. That is wrong.

"Just leave me" He told her, already feeling the deserved ache of loneliness in his heart. Now he did it, he basically told her to go. Unable to bear her presence any longer, he got up and left, sitting down just a few metres away from her on the bottom of the mast, looking away.

"Fine!" He heard her say and she stomped back into the sun, to the others.

You

Stupid Law. Whatever he was bitching about, you didn't need to punch it out of him. He should talk to you like an adult or leave it. Sanji already threatened to beat him up for making you sad, but you declined.

For the rest of the afternoon, you felt his presence like a sting in your neck. He didn't move, didn't talk. What a diva. But it wasn't your job to get him out of there if he didn't want to. Instead, you savored the time with the crazy members of the straw hats and ended up having a small feast on deck as sanji brought out a grill, Zoro got kegs of sake from storage and Brook began to fiddle a happy song. It seemed like they were always one step away from a small party.

Law stayed where he was. Until Luffy didn't allow that anymore.

"Tra-guy, you have to wear a party hat, too!" He screamed as he stretched his arm to fetch law - he got to grip him on his belt and almost pulled Law's pants down, it was absolutely hilarious. You had to laugh and were just glad that Law had changed his expression from brooding to annoyed - at least some kind of reaction.

"Leave me be!" He growled at the other captain.

"Yeah that's stupid" Zoro chimed in, holding a mug full of sake. "You should drink with me" He added and already held out the mug.

"Not in the mood!" Law snapped at the swordsman.

"Eat some cotton candy and you will feel better!" Chopper tried.

"I hate sweets!" Law bellowed, trying to walk away, but he was surrounded.

"Let's all sing together" Brook tried to soothe the irritated Law, resulting in the direct opposite, he looked like he would explode soon.

"No! I am leaving!" Law desperately said, looking for an opening.

"You've been a drag all day, you should be with your girl!" Nami berated him, quickly followed by Sanji who added: "You're not worthy to be with such a beautiful girl" which stopped him dead in his tracks.

"ROOM" Law screamed and summoned a blue orb from his hand, only to vanish to god knows where. You couldn't see his face clearly- but a tear fell down where he had stood a second before. You've never seen him cry, he was always in control. Always.

"The room was not so big, I bet he's somewhere downstairs" Robin calmly informed you and already pointed to the door on deck that lead down. "We'll wait here" She said as you already ran to the door to search for him.

You were listening closely as you moved down the hallway under deck. You could hear the continued party upstairs, muffled through the planks, until you heard sobbing. This was bad, you didn't know how to handle this. Cautiously, you opened the door to the room where you heard it. Between crates and barrels, Law cowered, small and miserable. He looked up with red eyes as he heard you.

"Go. Away." He told you, his breaking voice betraying his harsh tone.

"I don't think you should be alone now, Law." You put your finger over his trembling lip as he started to protest and he shut up, looking down.

"I know you're not used to this, but I am here now. Talk to me. What's bothering you?" you asked him as you sat down next to him, prompting a louder sob from him.

"The cook is right. I don't deserve you" He whispered.

"Sanji is just talking trash, what does he know about us?" You asked Law.

"He's seeing that we don't fit together" Law said in a weak voice. "I am just holding you back, I bring nothing but pain" he looked at his hands again. Those long, nimble fingers could do so much, you thought. They saved lives, they protected his friends and they lovingly touched you. You wished that he would see that, too.

"You may not see it, but you make me so happy, Law. I am so glad we met. You're so handsome, intelligent and funny" you told him as he avoided your gaze.

"And you're a little weirdo, and I love that, too" you planted a little kiss on his forehead, pushing his hat down in the process. It fell to the floor, unnoticed by Law.

"I can't cook, I am not a gentleman, I don't...party. I am just a...a monster" He concluded, sounding defeated.

"Who told you that?" You asked him.

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, going through his hair nervously.

"You're not a monster! You're my wonderful Law. You saved a whole kingdom, your crew loves you, the strawhats love you. I love you" you told him, taking his hands into yours, "I know it's hard to grasp when you're not used to it, but you have friends, you have me" you desperately scrambled for words to express your feelings to him without sounding too melodramatic.

"Tss" he said and tried to pull his hands away, but you held on.

"It can be hard to accept that things have changed. You are not DeFlamingo's puppet anymore, you are Law, captain of your own ship" you realised that you didn't really get throught to him as his tears flowed freely now. You didn't want to let it come to this, but you were sure there was no other way to pull him out of this. It was a gamble, though.

"Just think, did Cora-san save you just you could sit around here and be miserable? While you have accomplished so much?" you told him and held your breath. Cora-san was sacred to Law, you knew that. You didn't want to bring him up, but you were pretty sure that he would really want Law to be as happy as possible.

Law's eyes widened and he began breathing faster. His eyes darted around as he seemed to think furiously.

Law

Cora-san! Law was furious that she would bring him up now - but he also couldn't help but replay his memories of their short time together in his head. And he couldn't say she was wrong. He dragged Law across the north blue to live, he desperately wanted that small, sick boy to live his life and not throw it away.

It hurt to admit it - but she was right. He couldn't see Cora-san's actions as grooming him for revenge. He wanted Law to be happy, to value the second life he was given. And the sacrifice it took to have it.

"Law?" her voice ripped him out of his memories once again. He was feeling dizzy, his brain foggy.

"I am sorry" he mumbled.

"Don't be. I can only imagine what you have been through, but I will be here for you for as long as you let me." She said.

She was so precious. He took her chin in his hand like he always did and gave her a soft kiss. She smiled. He felt his own mouth curl. Law promised himself that he would work to make Cora-san proud of him.

"Let's get back up" Law said. "But I won't wear a party hat." He stated.

Law was still grumpy, but he sat among the straw hats and took part. He looked at y/n as she enjoyed herself and kept an eye on him. He had an emotional bodyguard now. It was hard for him, in his current state, to be with people. But he had to start somewhere.

A plate with various barbecued foods was put in front of him, he looked up at the grumpy face of ship's cook that was exclusively reserved for men. What he said earlier still stung, because he was right.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you that you were not worthy of her." Sanji apologised grumpily, looking everywhere but at Law. "But I still think you should value her! And I will kick you if you make her cry on my watch! She is so cute and nice and her nose is so adorable-" Sanji got into one of his rants. Law didn't have time or nerves for that.

"I agree" Law interrupted the cooks blabbering.

"What?" Sanji asked, confused.

"I agree. She is the best thing to ever happen to me. If I treat her bad again, kick me." Law stated.

"I ABSOLUTELY FUCKING WILL" Sanji promised with a salute, standing at attention like a soldier.

Law immediately regretted that request, but he was pretty sure he would deserve every shoe that landed in his face if he began lashing out at her again.

So yeah, Law is seeing that he cannot keep pushing people away and he asked Sanji to check on that, because the cook has a magical "woman in distress" radar that will find any misstep by Law and will hold him accountable. I did that and I think it's cute!

I hope you liked it

[creedslove]

FAMILY BLISS 💘

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After dreaming so much about it, Joel finally finds out you are carrying his baby 🥺

(This can be read as a sequence of SLEEP BLISS 💤, SHOWER BLISS 🫧, MOONLIGHT BLISS 🌙, BABY BLISS 🍼 PART ONE AND TWO, CHOCOLATE CAKE BLISS 🎂 AND STORM BLISS ⛈️ or it can be read as a one shot)

Warnings: fluff, just fluff, pregnancy, pregnant reader, dad joel, fluff, fluff, fluff and fluff

A/N: I am back with a Bliss story because I missed Joel so much and it was about time we make this man happy!!! I know he's out of character but whatever, let's keep him happy! 🩷🩷🩷

1.1k words (short and sweet)

Joel's heart skipped a beat and his whole world stopped as he looked down at you, your scared, teary eyes, your voice not louder than a whisper as you had said two simple words. 

"I'm pregnant" 

Two words that made him feel dizzy and lightheaded for a moment, not being able to wrap his head around the fact you were indeed expecting a child. 

He had longed for that, at the same time he dreaded it, all the nights he spent buried deep inside of you, always hoping something would happen as he didn't pull out, but also being terrified that something would happen and that you two would have to face the consequences. 

Who mentally fit would actually bring a baby into the apocalypse? Who Would risk going through a pregnancy, labor, postpartum when the world went to hell? But the answer was simple: apparently you and him. 

You bit your lips so nervously, anxiety and fear were noticeable at any slight movement, you knew it could happen, it would probably happen, you weren't on birth control, Joel didn't pull out and lately he had been bringing it up the baby talk so many times, you didn't know until what extent he meant it or he was just daydreaming, but the reality hit you hard when you stopped getting your periods, your started feeling nauseous every single morning and suddenly all your jeans seemed tight. He had got you pregnant, and in a matter of months, a baby would come out of you, you were going to be a mom, and Joel would be a dad. 

A dad again. 

After almost a lifetime, Joel was gifted the opportunity of being a father, of having a child of his own, a child he could love, protect, and take care of. Even if he wasn't young anymore, even if he wasn't a good man anymore, no matter how many times you tried reassuring him, he wouldn't believe you, he was convinced he had become a bad person. 

But at the same time, he didn't believe bad people were rewarded good things, so either that meant he wasn't a bad person at all or that he didn't deserve you and the baby. But just as everything about your relationship, he was tired of denying himself a glimpse of happiness, he knew he wasn't worthy of you, and now he wasn't worthy of your baby, but he was selfish and he would keep the two of you to himself no matter what. 

He realized you expected something from him, a reaction, a comment, a smile or a frown. It killed you to see him standing still, an awkward silence filling the room.

Joel tried finding words to tell you, but he just couldn't, nothing would come out of his throat, so his hands just gripped your sides, pulling you to him, lifting you up and twirling you around, at the same time you squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

You felt relief when he picked you up, still without saying a word, he kissed you. Your lips, your cheeks, the tip of your nose and your forehead. 

"Our baby" he finally whispered, resting his forehead against yours. His hands had a firm grip around your body, he just wouldn't let go of you, nor your baby, because the three of you were a family now and there was nothing in the world he loved more than that. 

He cupped your face with both hands, smiling and kissing you over and over "I love you, Y/N, I love your family" Joel said with a true happiness he hadn't felt in so long in his life. 

And over the following months he became the most protective partner in the world. If that was even possible, but he did and god, you couldn't have asked for a better man than Joel to have by your side. 

You were always so happy to welcome him home after patrol, always dinner ready for your man as he picked you up, kissed you and then lowered himself to your belly, kissing it and talking to the baby. 

You two still didn't know if you were having a little boy or a little girl, but it didn't matter, Joel was so excited he asked his brother to help him build the nursery. They would go with neutral colors and once baby Miller grew up you two could pick up the decoration you thought fit your baby the best. 

You were the most beautiful woman to Joel, no one looked as gorgeous as you did, the way your body got curvy with the pregnancy, your breasts looked filled up, it all awakened a hunger in him, he couldn't get enough of you, always touching you and making love to you, because yeah, now Joel also made love to you. It wasn't just fucking, it was also making love, and it felt incredible. 

Even when you were already heavily pregnant, feeling huge and unattractive, Joel was still there, to make you feel better and remind you how much he loved you. Your baby was growing strong in your womb and you were so anxious about it all, but every time you looked into his warm, brown eyes, everything was okay again.

He made sure to be by your side through everything, every single moment of your pregnancy, refusing to go on patrols when you reached the final weeks, not risking missing the birth of your beautiful miracle. And when time came and your water broke, he was also there. 

Joel was strong, ruthless and fearless, but he could swear you nearly crushed his bones when you held his hand. He watched you in awe as you screamed in pain and pushed as hard as you could in order to give birth to your baby. He could see you were exhausted, sweaty and a little pale, but you looked like a goddess to him. When your baby's first cries were heard in the room, the two of you were taken by such emotion. That tiny little thing placed in your arms was a baby girl. 

Joel had a daughter. Again. 

He looked at you and then at your beautiful little one, not believing how lucky he got even after everything that happened, how he had a reason to live after all this time he assumed his life had ended. 

He didn't even try to hide his emotion, the tears in his eyes as he carefully took the baby into his arms. His beautiful princess just whimpering softly before nuzzling his chest. 

You hadn't thought of a name yet, but the new baby Miller was already Joel's whole world and whenever he looked at you, there was nothing he wanted more than make you his wife, even if marriages weren't really a thing in the apocalypse.

_____

A/N: How could you say no to Joel asking you to have his babies???????????

[imnotjaesblog]

Last Christmas

Starring: Jeong Jaehyun

Something short and sweet.

I miss Jaehyun :(

Warnings: None

Fluff with some angst.

It's Christmas Time!!!

Words: 1k

Enjoy :)

It was the first snowfall of December in New York. I stood on my balcony gazing out over the city. The holiday lights twinkled below, the crisp air biting at her cheeks. But, despite the beauty of the season, my heart felt heavy. Christmas had never been the same since last year.

I had met him at a Christmas party when we were just teenagers. It was one of those magical, snow-dusted nights when everything seemed perfect, and love felt inevitable. He was charming, with a dimpled smile and eyes that sparkled brighter than the Christmas lights twirling around the tree. The entire evening was spent talking, laughing, and sharing stories. Sneaking away from our hovering parents. There was an instant connection—a feeling I had never experienced before.

Maybe it was my youth romanticising the moment but it felt magical. He had come from a strict household similar to mine. My father that night introduced me to his friend's sons to someday marry and merge companies. Jaehyun was going through the same thing. We were each other's escape from the night.

That's how every event after was treated. Like an escape from the real world. My knight saved me from the forces of my father. Saving himself from his insufferable mother. When our parents discovered our friendship we assumed we'd face their wrath but instead, we were met with praise.

"How could you hide such a thing from us?" his mother asked him. His father slapped Jaehyun back letting his grip sit on his shoulder. "You should have told us, son, you had already found someone worthy of the family name," he said with a grin. The two of you had stood there awkwardly. Not knowing whether or not to tell them you weren't in a relationship. You looked at each other hoping the other had an idea of how to escape. Both of you are helpless you had to endure your parents' company.

By the time the night ended, Jaehyun's parents spoke with yours and the pairs agreed to allow you to date. You weren't opposed to the idea. You've had feelings for Jaehyun since you first spoke to him those few years ago. You were excited to have Jaehyun on your arm. Your parents already discussing buying you, your apartment for the two of you to share. Jaehyun loved being your friend. It made all these parties and outings worth showing up to. But he wasn't prepared for a quick relationship. He enjoyed your company and wanted more than anything to spend time with you but marriage seemed a bit too quick for his liking.

Finding a moment to flee he took your arm heading for the balcony. The snow fell gently landing on the ground in piles. A chill left your body. Jaehyun noticed taking off his coat and placing it over your exposed shoulders. You thanked him politely as you always did. He didn't smile at you like he always had.

You didn't worry too much turning to face the city. You smiled at all the Christmas lights. Jaehyun who normally followed you around kicked the snow unable to find the heart to tell you this wasn't what he wanted, well, not how he had it planned at least.

But seeing you with a giant smile on your face. A look in your eyes he had never seen before, he didn't want to hurt your night. He didn't want to hurt your feelings. So he came to your side placing a hand over your shoulder and later he agreed especially since this was all taking place Christmas Eve. He didn't want to ruin your favorite Holiday. So, for the next two years, you spent countless hours walking through snowy parks, sipping mulled wine in cozy pubs, and sharing your dreams and fears. Christmas, with its promise of warmth and togetherness, was the backdrop to your budding romance. Postponing your wedding, mostly because of Jaehyun.

You weren't too jazzed about marriage either but it meantn't you could escape your parents. You tried to get Jaehyun to understand the situation but he always had an excuse. "We still haven't traveled here," he'd say suggesting another country, this time it was Thailand. So he'd take you to Thailand in hopes you'd forget about a proposal.

Of course, someday you want to get married. But decided after Jaehyun's third attempt to distract you, you'd just push that dream away until the time was right for the two of you. Your parents pushed the two of you to wed but you shot them down more times than Jaehyun could. You started to create distance between your families. Due to the overwhelming songs of marriage. Which worked well for the two of you.

But then, on Christmas Day itself, things took an unexpected turn.

Jaehyun had been distant all morning, his smile forced, and his usual excitement for the holiday absent. A dull expression on his face when your friends arrived for Christmas. Everyone asked you if he was well. You covered for him, and yourself. You had no clue what was bothering him. And you tried to talk to him about it he usually responded poorly, with a tired expression.

When everyone left you decided to talk to him.

"What is going on?" you asked placing a hand on your hip. He sighed looking away from you. Fingers rubbing between his brows.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking torn. "I… I need to tell you something."

You immediately sensed that something was wrong. "What is it, Jaehyun?"

"I… I can’t be with you anymore. I didn’t want it to happen this way, not on Christmas, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while now," Jaehyun confessed, his voice thick with regret. "It’s not you. It’s me. I think I need to be alone for a while, sort things out."

You felt as though the world had shifted beneath your feet. The warmth from the fireplace. You stood there, numb, as Jaehyun explained that the pressure of his parents and to get married still lingered over his head. The unresolved issues were holding him back. He needed time to heal before he could give himself fully to anyone.

You tried to understand but struggled to see his hurt. You never brought up the idea to him after the first conversation you had about it and you had distanced yourself from your family so you felt confused. He could read the confusion on your face clear as day. The confusion made your head hurt therefore frustrating you more than you already were.

It felt like a cruel joke. Christmas Day, a day meant for love and joy, had become a day of heartbreak. After Jaehyun left, you spent the rest of the holiday alone.

This Christmas

A year had passed, and you had spent much of it trying to move on. You focused on your work at the small art gallery in Covent Garden, started spending more time with your friends, and even tried dating a few people. But none of it felt like it could fill the space Jaehyun had left behind. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t dwell on the past too much and enjoy this Christmas with your friends.

Yet, as the days grew colder and the city buzzed with holiday spirit, the memories of last Christmas—of Jaehyun—crept back into your mind. That was, until the moment you saw him again.

It happened when you and your friends were spending time in the infamous Winter Wonderland. You had seen him with a few friends nursing a hot cup of hot chocolate. The booth he stood at was half-empty, save for a few scattered customers, and the world outside was drenched in light snow. You have been scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself from her thoughts, when a group of Santa walked by singing catching a few people's attention.

When you turned back from watching the Santas you froze.

There he was Jaehyun staring back at you. He let out a small gasp cool air visible as it left his lips.

He looked just as you remembered: tall, with that same warm, dimpled smile that made your heart skip a beat. You felt a knot form in your stomach. Your first instinct was to hide, to turn away, but something told you that you couldn’t run from this.

You took a deep breath and stood up as he approached you.

“Y/n?” His voice was tentative, almost unsure.

You forced a smile. “Jaehyun. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

There was a long pause. Neither of you seemed to know what to say next. The weight of everything that had happened hung between you two like a thick fog.

“I… I didn’t expect to see you, either,” Jaehyun said finally. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I didn’t want to show up like this, but… I don’t know. I had to see you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his voice. “What do you mean?”

“I owe you an apology,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Last Christmas… I was a coward. I shouldn’t have let you go. I was dealing with so much—too much—and I let you slip away because I wasn’t ready. I should have been honest with you. I’m sorry.”

You felt your chest tighten. You had spent the entire year trying to let go, but hearing him speak so honestly, so raw, brought all the old feelings flooding back. "Jaehyun, I—" she started, but words failed you.

"I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore," he continued. "I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I had to say it. I’m sorry. For everything."

There was a long silence. You took a deep breath. You didn’t know what to do with all of the emotions swirling inside yourself. Part of you wanted to scream, to tell him he had no right to come back after everything. But another part of you, a quieter part, knew that healing couldn’t happen without closure.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you said with a small shrug, your voice trembling. “But… I’m glad you said it. I’m glad you finally told me.” you tried to mask yourself with confidence.

Jaehyun nodded, his eyes searching hers as if waiting for something. And then, almost instinctively, he stepped closer. “I know it’s been a long time, Y/n, but… would you be open to talking? Maybe starting over? Not rushing anything, just… seeing where things go?”

You stared at him for a long moment. The world outside the Wonderland seemed to fade away. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel quite so alone.

“I don’t know,” you said, her voice still quiet, but there was a softness to it now. “Maybe we could start with just… being friends.”

Jaehyun smiled a genuine, relieved smile, and nodded. “I’ll take that. I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.”

You invited me to walk with you around Wonderland. He accepted happily almost grateful you asked him. You spent the night talking about everything and nothing, you realized that sometimes, the holidays weren’t just about love or loss—they were about finding the strength to move forward.

This Christmas, you weren't sure what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, you were willing to find out.

The End :)

Thanks for reading!!!

[neverchecking]

LOVE what I've read from you so far, and may I request Hyrule with a reader flirting with him, (no pre-established relationship) just to see him all flustered? Can be Yandere or not, NSFW would be appreciated!

Take care of yourself ꨄ︎

You absolutely can! I adore flirty! character x Shy! Character so much!

Also, can I just shout both you and @welcometothefairgrounds out for your tags on the reblogs, they crack me up. Between the #Holy everloving FUCK and the #EVErYBrODY GO READ THIS RIGHT NOW , y'all. Had me kicking my feet, twirling my hair, fucking giggling-

Anyway~! I went for a softer Yandere, because c'mon. Hyrule would be such a soft Yandere.

NS*W, so MDNI!

Smut CW: Handjob, Reader is a little bit of a dom, praising Hyrule, and just and itty bitty tiny little bit of c*m eating...Hyrule is also a bit of a bottom. I'm sorry CAN YOU BLAME ME? MEN WHIMPERING JUST-

"Have I ever told you how pretty you look in red?"

Those were the words you told him once, leaning down to stare him in the eyes. You hair fell in a soft curtain around your head as you did so, that ever charming smirk on your face. He could see the twitch of your lips and the red blossoming along the very edges of your cheeks, which didn't make his own flush any better.

You had told him he looked pretty in red. You had said it after saying one thing or another which lead to him burying his face in his hands as he tried hiding behind his tunic. You seemed to take great joy in seeing him flush and while he adored red on you, he didn't see the appeal of it on him.

But it made you happy. And that was all he needed.

Some form of half-groan, half whine left his lips as he tried avoiding your gaze. He could feel his heart shudder in his chest as you leaned further into his space. What he wouldn't give to just lean in and kiss you. To feel your velvet lips against his, melding to his every move. To feel the way your body would move against his as he held your perfect cheeks in his hands. To gently lap at your bottom lip, maybe pinch it between his teeth if only to make you gasp just a bit, until you took charge as you always did.

"I didn't even do anything and you're turning redder by the moment. Thinking of me, traveler?"

Of course he was. He was always thinking about you. Constantly. You were the only thing on his mind at any given point in the day. The way you walked, the way you ate, the way you slept, the way you breathed. It all kept him awake a night, a hand clasped tightly around the fabric above his heart as he fought to keep his breathing even. Every part of you made his heart yearn and ache for things he never allowed himself. He wasn't allowed to love in his own world, but maybe in yours.

Your world, which you constantly wove intricate stories about, seemed nowhere near as enchanting as you made it seem. Maybe just the way you explained, a hand waving mindlessly beside you, is what made it seem so. You were what made it a place worthy of even existing in your presence. Your world may be the thing to allow him to love you. To hold and cherish you. Worship your every step. Even if you didn't need him, he would find a purpose in your life to keep him in your orbit. Did you need a hero? He could be yours. A healer? Every ache and pain could be waved away with a flurry of his magic. A companion? Anything to be by your side. A step-stool? If you wished to step on him, it would be his absolute honor.

"Maybe you are! How sweet of you, Hyrule. I think about you too!"

You thought about him? You, perfect, angelic you thought about him? Little ol' him? He graced your thoughts in the same vein he thought of you? Probably not, you occupied his every waking moment, but just to know you thought of him for a flutter of a second was enough to have his cheeks turning a crimson he didn't think possible. They seemed hot to the touch, but you were utterly amused by them.

One of your perfect fingers poked his cheek, even as he tried hiding it from you. How could he portray the image of a fear-less, unyielding hero when you could dwindle him to a sputtering mess with a flutter of your lashes?

"I think about you a lot, you know?"

Your voice dropped an octave as he fought the urge to hide to look you in the eyes. Your eyes were clouded with something he was unfamiliar with, lidded and pointed on him.

He swallowed something thick that settled on his tongue.

You slowly crawled over to him, caging him against the tree he originally was leaning against. His voice felt like it was going to crack before he even spoke. "D-Do you?"

You nodded. "I do. Wanna know what I think about?"

Your breath was hot against his ear as he keened upwards, body jolting at the rush of it. The feeling of you being so close was making his body jolt and quiver as his fingers dug into the dirt beneath him.

He found the will to nod.

His will did not last long as one of your hands gently reached for his best, teeth gracing the outer shell of his ear before pinching it gently between them. You could've asked anything from him at that very moment and he would've given it willingly. Wanted a monster slain? Done. A nation to fall at your feet? No worries. Wanted his own blood to revive the very monster he and his brothers were determined to keep dead? Take it all. He bled just for you.

Your palm felt heavy as it gently brushed along his crotch, fiddling with his belt buckle before it was falling undone and you were able to slip your hand between his pants and skin. His tanned skin felt hot to the touch, even to him, but you seemed unalarmed, tongue darting out to swipe along his jawline. His body simultaneously tensed and went lax under the feeling of your spit quickly cooling and your hand grasping at your wanted prize.

He shot up when your fingers wrapped along his shaft, gently tugging just as your teeth latched to his neck. Goosebumps riddled his skin as he leaned into your shoulder, jaw clenched tight enough he didn't risk biting into your own flawed skin. To tarnish your pristine skin would be a sin surely beyond forgiveness and he would not risk this gorgonizing experience. Everything about this felt ferly and perfect and he never wanted it to end.

Your fingers tightened, thumb gathering a drop of pre-cum that dribbled out of the tip to act as a lubricant as you picked up a steady rhythm.

He couldn't even help the whimpers coming out of him as his thighs shudders and his hands dug into the ground, yanking at the strands of grass and weeds in an effort to ground himself. It didn't work, the muscles in his thighs tightening along with the feeling in his groin as you worked your hand faster.

"I think about how pretty you would look, red in the face, cumming for me like the good boy you are."

You word was law, and who was he to disobey? Any hold he had over himself was let go as he jutted as far as your hold would allow him, crying out with his head falling back. His hips bucked wildly, meeting everyone of your thrusts beat for beat before he was teetering on the edge of overstimulation. You retracted your hand, making him whine in ache for your touch, but you held his attention as you pulled your fingers to your mouth. They were coated in a milky white sheen, dripping along your digits, which you then shoved in your mouth. Your tongue, pink and flush, lapped around your fingers, refusing to leave a trace even as he felt about ready to combust at the action.

When you were satisfied, you hummed happily, licking your lips as he vowed his total being to you. Something you had no idea of.

"And I was right. You're so pretty in red, Hyrule."

[jettingtothemoon]

Daughter of the Spirits; chapter 14

➳ pairing: zuko x f!reader ➳ genre: a retelling of the show from season 2 onwards with a heavy focus and expansion on zuko’s story (canon divergent) ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut (underaged if your age of consent is above 16), spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the show ➳ word count: 2840 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n comes across the fire nation prince during her stay in Ba Sing Se. ➳ tags: @harmlessoffering @lammello @hannahdinse8 @ok-boke @stranger-chan @nekee-lilac02 @inutheangel @kalea-gooch @meiraloves2dmen @cozy-fantasy-corner @urmomlikeslinotoo @brain-has-left @iluvme547 @nadlx33333 @savannah0111 @browneyedgirl22 @swoon-for-joon @vyliie (i’m sorry if i’m forgetting anyone, lmk if i am or if you want to be added)

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

Inner Conflict

The very next day Zuko set out to teach Aang. He asked you to take part, nervous to teach the Avatar on his own, but you reminded him that this was something he and Aang needed to do alone. At least, until they had some time to bond. You weren’t sure if or when that would happen but you wanted more than anything for the pair to truly reconcile and put old grudges behind them.

So while he taught the Avatar, you decided to spend your time getting to know the others in the group better. You wandered through the camp and found Toph sitting on a rock, casually bending small rocks into intricate shapes to pass the time. You admired her skill and approached her with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Toph. Mind if I join you?" you asked.

The young girl shrugged. "Sure, if you can keep up."

You sat down next to her and tried to mimic her movements, but your rocks crumbled to dust. Toph laughed, and you joined in, enjoying the moment of camaraderie.

“It’s your Waterbender energy, you need to stop following the flow and stiffen up. Throwing boulders and making walls is one thing but something smaller,” she rock in front of her began to take shape, morphing into a small figurine of the Avatar’s flying bison, “requires more thought and precision.”

For someone so young, she was insanely skilled. A more than worthy companion of the avatar. You could learn a lot from her, just as you knew you could learn a lot from everyone, if they just gave you and Zuko a chance.

You both chatted for a while, talking about your journeys and experiences. You spoke of your home back in Omashu and of your parents, whom you missed so dearly, and she told you a little of her upbringing and how she left her parents behind to join the avatar on his journey. Toph was tough but honest, and you found her perspective refreshing.

After some time, you noticed Sokka nearby, practising with his boomerang. Toph nudged you, urging you to go and speak to the boy, and you realised she was helping you. You needed to prove that you were on their side, that you were more than Zuko’s girlfriend. That you wanted to be a part of this team. "Looks like Sokka could use some company. Go on, give him a hand."

You walked over to Sokka, who was deeply focused on his drills. "Hey, Sokka, need a sparring partner?"

Sokka paused and looked at you, a bit surprised but then grinned. "Why not? Just don't go easy on me."

The two of you moved to a more open space and readied your stances, preparing for hand-to-hand combat. Sokka grinned as he twirled his boomerang before tossing it aside. "Alright y/n, let's see what you've got."

You both started slowly, testing each other's reflexes. Sokka was the first to throw a punch, which you blocked with ease and responded with a blow of your own that he quickly dodged. The match was intense as you each gave as good as you got but trying to fight without your bending felt almost foreign now, even after so many years of hiding what you could really do. Sokka, despite his appearance and light-hearted demeanour, was a skilled fighter. His strategic mind shined through in his every move, always a step ahead as he predicted your actions and countered them with precision.

"You've got to be faster," Sokka teased, ducking under your strike and tapping your shoulder lightly as he rolled away. "Imagine you're facing a Fire Nation soldier, not a friend."

You grinned back, trying to keep up with his quick movements. "I think I can handle a few soldiers, Sokka."

The fight escalated, your strikes becoming more powerful and focused. You threw a series of punches, each aimed with intent, but Sokka blocked them with surprising ease. Before you knew what was happening, he swept your legs out from under you, and you hit the ground with a thud. Your chest rose and fell in haste as you regained your breath and soon, Sokka was there to offer you a hand in getting back up.

"You're relying too much on your bending," he said, helping you to your feet. "You need to learn how to fight without it. Our enemies have a chi-blocker, and if you can't bend, you'll be vulnerable."

You dusted yourself off, nodding thoughtfully. "I know Ty Lee. We were friends before we left. I hope we don't find ourselves against each other on the battlefield."

Sokka's expression softened for a moment. "I hope so too. But just in case, you need to be prepared. Chi-blockers are no joke."

You sighed, the weight of the situation settling over you. "You're right. I can't rely solely on my bending. I'll train harder."

Sokka clapped you on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. And don't worry, we've got each other's backs out there."

You chatted together as you headed back to the camp, laughing and joking as you walked along. You felt closer now, which was a relief. But opening up to you was one thing, putting their faith in Zuko was another entirely.

Just as you made your way back into camp, Katara came wandering over with a look in her eye that told you she had something she wanted to say. "Can I talk to you?" she asked, her tone leaving little room for refusal.

You nodded, sensing that this conversation had been a long time coming. You and Katara walked a little away from the others, finding a quiet spot near the river, and you couldn’t quell your nerves.

"I need to understand something," Katara began, her voice tense. "Why are you still with Zuko? After everything he's done, how can you still stand by his side?"

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "I know Zuko has made mistakes, Katara. But I've seen the light inside him. He's trying to change, really. I've seen him struggle with this for so long, always questioning his choices, wondering if he’s doing the right thing. He’s trying to be better, to be good. That's why he’s here, to finally make the right choice."

Katara's eyes flashed with anger. "But he's hurt so many people! He betrayed us, tried to capture Aang so many times. How can you trust him after all that?"

"I understand your anger, Katara," you replied softly. "I really do. But people can change. I know you've seen it too. Zuko's not the same person he was. He finally wants to do some good and sees the damage the Fire Nation has done. Do you know how hard it was for him to leave everything he’s ever known behind? To turn his back on his own nation? His friends? His family? He needs our support, Katara, not our hatred. Everyone deserves a second chance."

Katara crossed her arms, her expression softening slightly but still guarded. "It's not as simple as that. Even if I wanted to believe in him, it's hard to forget everything he's done."

"Please, just give him a chance to prove himself," you urged. "I believe in him, and I think, deep down, you do too. So please, help me help him become the person he wants to be."

Katara looked down, her resolve wavering. "Maybe you're right, but I can’t so easily trust him. I’ve been betrayed by him enough times, we all have. He can’t keep changing his mind, what’s to say he won’t do so again? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust, not after everything he’s done."

"That's fair," you agreed. "I know right now you can only see what he has done and not what he wants to do going forward. If you can’t trust him, then trust in me. He won’t turn his back on any of us again. Please, give him a chance."

Katara nodded slowly. "I'll try. For Aang's sake, and for yours. But he better not mess this up."

You smiled, feeling a sense of relief. "Thank you, Katara. It means a lot."

As you returned to the camp, you felt hopeful. The path to reconciliation was never easy, but with patience and understanding, you believed that Zuko could truly become a valued member of the team.

When the sun began its descent from the sky, Zuko came to pull you aside. Without a word you followed him, allowing him to quietly lead you along with in hand wrapped snugly around your own.

“I can’t teach him,” he said when you finally reached your room, a place away from prying eyes and ears.

You frowned. “You can’t teach Aang? Why?”

Zuko sighed and slumped down onto the bed. “It’s my bending… It’s gone. How am I supposed to teach the avatar, or even fight, when I can only muster a small flame?”

Moving to sit beside him, you took his hand again. For the first time since you’d known him, he felt cold. The tips of his fingers chilled you to touch, even as you encased them with your own warmth.

“Maybe I can help with that…”

He raised an eyebrow as you turned towards him, resting a gentle hand to his cheek as your lips met. He followed your lead as you climbed over him, deepening your kiss, and only pulled away when your hands started to tug at his clothes.

“Look,” he spoke softly, “it’s not that I’m not enjoying this, but how will it help bring my bending back?”

You kissed his cheek softly, letting your lips linger for a moment before trailing them down to his jawline, each kiss deliberate and tender. As your lips brushed against the curve of his neck, you felt his pulse quicken beneath the surface. Smiling against his skin, you murmured, "Maybe a little bit of passion will reignite your fire."

Zuko chuckled and hummed, signalling that there would be no protest from him. His arms moved to hold you, one of his hands slipping into your hair as he kissed you again. It was a silly idea and you both knew it but, if anything, a distraction might be exactly what he needed.

You shifted slightly, pressing your body closer to his as your lips met once more. This kiss was slower, deeper, and filled with all the reassurance and affection you could muster. Zuko's initial hesitancy melted away as he responded, his lips moving in sync with yours. His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer.

You could feel the tension in his body slowly easing away and hoped more than anything to soothe him in this moment of uncertainty. He let out a contented sigh, the warmth between you gradually spreading.

Zuko's fingers threaded through your hair, his touch both gentle and urgent. He tilted his head back slightly, giving you better access as you continued to kiss along his neck and collarbone. Your hands slid beneath his robes, sliding it free of his shoulders and your lips followed the path of untouched skin. The feeling of your lips against him seemed to bring a faint, reassuring warmth back into him.

He rolled over, guiding you beneath him, his lips finding yours again in a series of passionate, lingering kisses. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close to savour the closeness and comfort it brought.

“I love you,” you spoke as you began to slip free of your own clothes, feeling your skin bare against his own. “I love you so much.”

He grinned into your kiss, his hands too working to rid you of the fabric that kept you from him. He seemed more confident than he had before, as though your words made him feel like he could take on the world so long as you were at his side.

“I…” he muttered, “I don’t know what to do.”

You could feel the flush of his cheeks in your hands as you kissed him again, offering a gentle smile against his lips. "It's alright," you whispered, your voice a soothing balm. "We don't need to rush this."

His uncertainty melted away bit by bit as your hands traced the contours of his face, guiding him with patient tenderness. He followed your lead, his touches growing more assured as he explored the warmth and comfort you offered.

His hands roamed over your skin, each caress imbued with a newfound confidence. He marvelled at the way your bodies fit together, the way your breath mingled as your kisses deepened. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you enveloped in a cocoon of shared heat and intimacy.

“I want to…” his breath was hot against your lips, his forehead gently learning against your own. “I really want to… but this,” your kisses grew languid and his brows furrowed, frustration seeping back in, and before you knew what was happening he was pulling away, “...this isn’t working.”

Although you understood his annoyance with himself, you couldn’t help but feel the ache in your heart as Zuko pulled away, his words hanging heavily in the air. The warmth that had been building between you dissipated, leaving a cold chill in its wake. His kiss he pressed to your cheek felt more like a farewell as he swiftly pulled his robes back on.

Silence settled in the room, broken only by the rustle of fabric and the sound of Zuko pacing restlessly while he thought, now possibly more frustrated than he was before. Slowly, you sat up and wrapped your arms around yourself, all of a sudden feeling exposed and vulnerable. The intimacy shared between you moments ago already felt like a distant memory, replaced by the reality of Zuko's frustration and the conflict within himself.

"I... I'm sorry," you whispered, the words catching in your throat. You wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him and hold him and make all his worries go away, but you knew he needed space.

Zuko ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, his back turned to you. "It's not your fault," he said quietly, his voice soft and fatigued. "I appreciate what you were trying to do. But... I can't... I need my bending, y/n. What use am I to the avatar without it?"

You pulled the blankets around you, disappointed that things hadn’t gone further and acutely aware of the ache that was left behind in the remnants of his touch. “It’ll be alright, I promise.”

With a deep breath, Zuko turned to look at you. His eyes were soft, conveying all the love and gratitude he had for you, but within them lingered a persistent trace of doubt. Not in you, but in himself. "I need time to figure things out," he admitted, his voice vulnerably raw. "Alone."

You nodded again, knowing there was nothing else you could say to comfort him now. You had done your part and it hadn’t helped. It was up to him now to figure this out. You wanted to be strong for him, to show him that you could support him even in moments like this, but you didn’t know what to do. How could you sit by and watch him suffer through something knowing there was nothing you could do to help?

Zuko approached you cautiously, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His touch was tender but fleeting, both a silent apology and farewell. "I... I'll be back," he promised softly, though the uncertainty in his eyes mirrored the ache in your heart.

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the quiet room. Your arms tightened around yourself, trying to hold onto the warmth that had left with him, and you smiled. Not because you were happy but because he was trying. He wanted to do the right thing and maybe his issues with his bending had something to do with that. Whatever it was, you were certain he would figure it out.

The room felt emptier now, colder despite the lingering heat of your shared intimacy. You buried your face in your hands, letting the weight of the moment wash over you. All you could do now was wait and hope that Zuko would find solace in the stars if he could not find it in you.

It was then that you realised just how deeply your love for him had carved into your beating heart because when he was suffering, nothing else mattered. Not the war, not the constant void of being so far from your home and family. None of it mattered because he was in pain. What a dangerous love that is, to love someone so completely that they become all that matters to you in the world. You’d bring down the very sky for him if it would make him smile and you hoped that someday he would do the same for you.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

illicit affairs | thirty one

* two years later *

I sat down at the edge of my bed, breathing deeply at the coming events. Never in a million years did I think I’d be wearing white again, but here we are. Hair and makeup were about to be here shortly, my bridesmaids were in the other room making mimosas and reminiscing on old stories. My hands wondered down to the tear cut diamond on my hand. I swore I was never going to love again but he proved me wrong.

“Hey, can we come in?”

I looked over at the half opened door to see Folio and Bryan on the other side, already in their tuxedos. I had to admit they cleaned up nice. Bryan was kind enough to capture the big day for us as well so I knew the photos would turn out perfect.

“Are you nervous?”

“Not really.” I sighed, “I just never thought I’d be getting married again.”

“We all saw this coming from a mile away when you got back together.” Bryan replied as him and Folio sat on the bed with me, “I’m just happy you finally figured it out. We would’ve hated to see you go.”

“I would’ve rather kicked him out of the band than you see you leave.” Folio joked behind me causing my eyes to roll. “All jokes aside, we’re happy that we officially have you in the family.”

“Thanks guys.”

Before they could say anything, my hair and make up artist came into the room along with my bridesmaids. Both of them gave me assuring squeezes before they left the room. Moments later, music was being played, mimosas were passed around as we all got glammed up for the day. I opted for more of a minimal look, knowing I was probably going to cry it all off anyways. Not as if it mattered, I could’ve walked down the aisle in a garbage bag and he’d still think I was the most beautiful woman in the world.


“Ellie, you look amazing.”

I admired myself in the mirror, my dark hair cascaded in soft waves down my back as my veil sat perfectly on the top of my head. I chose a white dress with long laced sleeves to cover my tattoos. I wasn’t ashamed of them, but looking back at my wedding photos with Tyler, I had wished I covered them up. I felt beautiful, for the first time in a long time I felt beautiful. I felt like I was worthy of love and a second chance at all of this.

“Mama!”

I turned around and saw Liam running towards me with open arms. I scooped him up and placed him on my hip, kissing his cheek over and over. He had his little tuxedo on with a pair of converse, which was his choice. He looked so adorable, all I wanted to do was squeeze him.

“Where’s your sister?” 

“With Papa.”

My head whipped around and saw my dad coming in with Madison, my four month old daughter in a stroller. She had on a pink frilly dress, blissfully unaware of what was going on today. She was blessed with my dark hair and her fathers eyes, she was absolutely perfect. The best part of all was Liam became a huge help with her, he loved to read her stories, lay on the floor with her during tummy time and hold her whenever she got sad. He was the best big brother in the world.


“You look beautiful, pumpkin.” My dad greeted me, placing a small kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you…have you seen him?”

“He’s good. I’ve never seen a man so calm on such a big day.” He mused, “I think he’s just ready to be married to you.”

“Ellie, you ready?”

Bryan was standing by the door, camera in hand waiting for me. I nodded my head and walked out with him. My heart was racing as I followed him down the hotel hall. He led me to a small courtyard that was overgrown with ivy and a small white gazebo. We had decided to do a first look to calm our nerves and to have a moment alone before everyone saw us. I started to fidget with my ring, twirling it around my finger the longer we walked. I also began to sweat, making me regret choosing to have our wedding in August.

Then I saw him.

His back was to me, so he had no idea how close I was. My throat began to close up as I felt tears wanting to fall. Who knew after all these years of back and forth, it finally led up to this. Bryan whispered to me that he was going to walk ahead and give me the thumbs up to let my soon to be husband know I was behind him. I counted his footsteps and watched with such intent, waiting for my cue. Bryan got down on one knee, brought his camera up to his face and gave me the signal. I took two steps forward, drawing in a huge breath before tapping on Matt’s shoulder.

“Holy shit.”

Tears instantly filled my eyes as he turned around. His hands fell to his knees as he braced himself from falling over. I stood there and admired him, laughing through my tears at his reaction. He looked so handsome. Never in a million years did I think I’d get him to dress up, but he really pulled it off. His hair was tucked into a low bun, and his tattoos were poking out from under his sleeve, which I loved so much. I can’t believe he’s about to be my husband.

When Noah left me that one day, he never came home. He never gave me much of explanation for his actions and I still don’t have closure from it, but I learned to live with it. Matt was the first to reach out to me, like he always did. After the band did their tour in Europe, he came to visit me and never left. I think a part of me knew it was always him. As much as I loved Noah, he was only playing the man I wanted him to be, and I truly believed it until one day I just stopped. Matt was the only one who truly saw me for who I was. Flash forward a year after Noah left, I sold our house, moved to Dallas and got engaged to Matt. I finally had the life I was destined for.

As for our daughter? Well she was a surprise, the greatest surprise we could’ve asked for. Matt was so protective of her, took her to his studio every chance he could. He would talk to her about what he was doing, as if she knew what he was talking about. We even took her to a bad omens show, Matt wrapped her in her carrier against his chest with some earmuffs as he did his job without missing a beat. Tour life looked a little different for him from that day on but I don’t think he would change it for the world.

Noah and I are on speaking terms, and oddly enough we were friends. I felt like we had to be. We weren’t exactly close, just close enough to be civil with each other and not have any awkwardness with the group. Either way if it wasn’t for him I would’ve never met Matt.

“You look so fucking beautiful, are you kidding me?” Matt gasped as he wiped one tear that fell from his face.

“I think you take the cake.” I sniffled, “I can’t believe I got you in a tux.”

Matt softly smiles, tracing my jaw as Bryan took a million photos behind us, “anything for you babe, you know that.”

“You ready to be stuck with me forever?”

“Until my last breath.” He mused, taking my lips into a soft kiss.

Since neither of us were good with public speaking, we decided to hand write our vows in letters and give them to each other. We both stood there in silence, reading our letters. The odd snickers, or sniffle was heard but nothing more. This was our moment to share alone, even if Bryan was hiding in the bushes.

“Danielle just texted.” Bryan said breaking us out of our trance, “it’s time.”

I looked over at Matt, his somber eyes already looking at me. No words were said but his eyes told me everything I needed to know. My nerves slowly calmed down as I pulled him in for another kiss. It lingered before we pulled apart, our noses brushing as we remembered this moment.

“See you down the aisle.”

“I’ll be the dork in a tux.”

He dropped my hand as I walked back with Bryan. With one final look, it slowly sunk in the next time I see Matt, he’ll be my husband.

Everyone looked so incredible as I made my way back to the hotel room. I let the girls choose their dresses and they all matched their personalities perfectly. Danielle had Liam in her arms and Madison in her stroller, ready to be my ring boy and flower girl.

“Are you okay not walking down the aisle with the best man?”

“As your maid of honour, I’d rather walk down with your children than Davis.”

I chucked, “fair enough.”

After a few make up touches and another mimosa, it was time. Danielle passed us our bouquets as we all lined up for the ceremony. Danielle had Madison, Liam decided he wanted to walk with Davis, my friend Cassandra was walking with Folio, Chloe was with Jolly, and Ruffilo was officiating the wedding. Noah opted out of being in the wedding party but promised he’d still be there to support us.

“Let’s hope this one sticks.”


“Cmon, Dad.”

He just gives my hand a squeeze as we waited for our turn. The night does not belong to god by Sleep Token began to play as everyone walked down. My entire body was shaking at this point and I kept taking in deep breaths but it wasn’t helping. Vessels voice created a calming aura as it was finally my turn. Everyone stood up, not a single phone was in sight the entire time. My eyes stayed on Matt, helping me focus on not falling down. He had his hands clasped in front of him, biting back his smile like he was a child on Christmas. I was fighting back the same smile, it got harder the closer I got to him.

“Love you pumpkin.” My dad whispered in my ear as he let me go. My eyes gazed over the crowd, where I finally saw Noah. He was in all black, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he softly smiled at me. I returned his gesture before turning my attention to Matt.

“I meant to ask you earlier if your dress was new.”

“Not now, Matthew.”

He chuckled as we got up to the alter. Nicholas looked so handsome as he had his hair tied back, minus one strand that fell in front of his baby blue eyes. He gave us a nod before telling everyone to take a seat. Matt’s soft stare never left me the entire time during the ceremony, which I wasn’t going to complain about. He made all the noise disappear and I forgot we were in a room with our friends and family.

“Ellie, when we first met you, most importantly, when you kicked Matt’s ass at Uno in Seattle, we never would’ve expected this is where you two would end up. While there’s been a few bumps in the road, I couldn’t be happier this is where it lead you. I’ve known Matt for years, he isn’t one to take things lightly, so when he came to us about proposing, I knew he was serious. Which is why I chose this role today, because I am proud to help you transition into this new, beautiful chapter of life. We all love you like a sister and couldn’t be happier to have you as part of our band of misfits.”

My eyes were filling with tears and I couldn’t fight them from falling down. Matt was chewing on his lip to fight his from falling but it was impossible.

“Fuck I didn’t mean to make you two cry so let’s wrap this up. Ellie and Matt have already read their vows in private so let’s move on to the rings.”

“One ring to rule them all.” We heard Folio snicker to himself, which caused us both to erupt in laughter. Lord of the rings was our favourite trilogy and I can guarantee you we’ll be watching it on our honeymoon.

“Your turn, bud.”

Liam walked in front of us, nervously holding the pillow that held our wedding bands. I got Matt a black metal band, he didn’t come across as a gold or silver kind of man so I knew this would suit him. I had a simple rose gold band to match my ring perfectly. My shaking hands grabbed his, slowly putting the band around his finger. It fit like a glove, as if it was made for him.

“Let these rings symbolize your love for each other, a love that never backed down and made you two find your way back each other.” Ruffilo added as Matt put my ring on my finger. “Matthew, you may kiss your wife.”

“Fucking finally” he exhaled, grabbing my face and pulling me into a firm kiss. Everyone applauded and stood up as we pulled apart. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest with how happy and blissful I felt. Matt was finally my husband.

“I may now present to you Mr and Mrs Dierkes!” Ruffilo announced behind us as Birds of Feather by Billie Eilish blasted through the speakers as we all walked back down the aisle. I caught a glimpse of Noah who smiled as he clapped his hands, he truly looked happy for me.

“Hi Wife!”

“Hi Husband!” I beamed as Matt picked me up off the ground, kissing me with force.

Husband.

I’ll never get over that.

[artist-issues]

With all due friendliness, @queenofhearts7378…

There is nothing prideful about the rightful heiress to an estate giving up her father, her home, time, effort, and dignity to the people who aren’t worthy of it. If you’re implying she was prideful to stay in a home where she was mistreated and could’ve left any time she wanted, you’re turning a blind eye to carefully-placed scenes like the one where a former staff member asks, “why do you stay there when they treat you so?” And Ella replies, “for my parents. They loved our house, and now that they’re gone I love it for them.”

Until she has the Prince, her only remaining sources of love, which are her parents, are in that house. The movie dedicates s great deal of time to building up who Ella is: she is taught by her parents to associate that house with their presence, and a queenly responsibility to watch over it. She doesn’t stay in a hard situation out of pride. She stays out of love and responsibility. And there’s an additional, very self-sacrificial hint that Ella wants to appeal to her new family members’ better natures, make their farmhouse life easier, and even feels pity for them.

“Pity? Self-sacrifice? Oh please,” you might be thinking, “She should not be pitying her abusers.” But here’s the truth. The Cinderella in Cinderella 2015 is a deep character because she knows who she is, and what is important in life. It might be hard for us, who see that the Stepmother and Stepsisters spend most of the movie getting their own way, demeaning someone so much worthier than them, and manipulating everyone they can for their own selfish gains, to feel pity. But it is not as hard for their victim, Cinderella. Because this Ella very clearly knows that power, which the stepmother and stepsisters have over her, is not nearly as valuable as love, which they can never have because they ruin it for themselves and one another.

That’s this Cinderella’s superpower—and it’s truer to the original fairy tale than the Animated Cinderella’s traits were—and it’s higher and better than “doing everything in her power to free herself.”

When are you and others ever going to get it into your head? How many centuries of Cinderella-like stories have to be told? It is not all that great to rescue yourself. It is actually truer and better and deeper to recognize that you can give up your own self-interests for others—and that superpower, known as kindness, is so much more valuable than providing for your own interests.

Also, what, Ella does not twirl in her tower “waiting to be rescued.” The narration specifically fills in the gaps, “Though Ella was sad, her spirit was not broken. She knew that the ball, and her time with the prince, would become beautiful, distant memories, like those of her mother and father and her golden childhood.” She’s not looking for a rescue. She’s never needed a rescue in this movie. She’s always found courage in things that are deeper than just “what situation do I live in and are people nice to me.” She just keeps on doing that even after the Stepmother smashes her glass slipper.

The only point you made that makes any sense with what values Cinderella’s story is supposed to communicate is: “og Cinderella was given the gift freely and COMFORTED at her lowest moment.” Well yeah, free love and comfort in a time of sadness is beautiful.

And it would have made sense, in the Live Action Cinderella, if the movie were not about Cinderella and her Superpower of Kindness. If the movie were about the Fairy Godmother, then sure, have her comfort Ella. That would show off how compassionate and timely and loving the character of the Fairy Godmother is.

But the movie’s not about the Fairy Godmother. The movie’s about Cinderella and her Superpower. The test was to prove to the audience that going to the ball was a direct result of Cinderella’s Superpower—and by the way, that actually makes her much more an agent of her own rescue than screaming at some mice.

While we’re on the topic, the “og Cinderella’s” Fairy Godmother did NOT just appear to give Cinderella comfort and a pretty dress just because she was sad and needed a pat on the head, which is what your tag implies. The OG Fairy Godmother’s very first words as she appears on screen are, ‘Nothing, my dear? Oh, now, you don’t really mean that. Nonsense, child! If you’d lost all your faith, I couldn’t be here; and here I am!”

My point is that even the OG Fairy Godmother appeared to remind Cinderella, and the audience themselves, of the movie’s main point and value: “Have courage and be kind and your dreams will come true.” That’s faith; acting on what you know is true regardless of circumstances, because a good result is promised. OG Cinderella and Live Action Cinderella exemplify that in the scenes where the Fairy Godmother come in; one through a line of explanation wrapped up in comfort, another through a hidden test.

Please come up with something more than a tired, old, broke understanding of Cinderella where you think she was helpless and her strength was in simply wanting to be free of her abusers, and jumping at the chances that she was given. That’s not how the story goes. The story goes, she was self-sacrificial and kind and brave even when she could have escaped OR made life worse for her abusers. And thanks to those values of self-sacrifice and kindness, she was saved.

It’s kindness and self-sacrifice, which take courage, that save Cinderella. That’s the story.

[missacidburn928]

Tasty Tuesday Sample Platter...

I weekly sample of what I have to offer. Be it a WIP or a completed fic, I'm here to give you a taste.

Well enough to wet your appetite at least...

Hors d'oeuvres for the week of August 19th 😈

Please Believe Me : August Walker x POC!Reader (with a dash of Andy Barber X POC!Reader)

Off To Never Never Land: Older!Eddie x POC!Reader

Eff Being Friends: Steve Rogers x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader “Ci”, ? x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader “Ci”, Ex!Thor x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader "Ci”, Ex!Loki x POC!Goddess!Avenger!Reader "Ci”

From The Jump: Dean Winchester x POC!Reader "Wildflower"

If You Let Me: Alpha!Jax Teller x Omega!POC!Reader "LuLu"

As all of my samples are 18+ material they can be fun under the cut. MDNI

Happy Feasting Heathens

“Take it off.”  

“Take what off?”  

“The dress. His stench is all over it and all I can see is him touching you out on that dance floor. Take it off sunshine before I cut it off you myself.”  

“Holy shit. You actually were jealous. Who would have thought.”  

He slips a knife out of his belt and takes a step towards me, twirling it around his fingers. “Now is not the time to push me baby girl.”  

“Okay, okay. Relax, Auggie. I’ll take it off.” I slowly begin to disrobe.   

A growl emanates from his chest when he realizes that I have absolutely nothing on underneath my dress. “Bed. Now. Face down. Ass up.”  

No longer feeling the urge to tempt the beast further, I do as requested. With a sway to my hips and flourish to my movements of course.  

He removes his own suit. Leaving him clad only in his boxer briefs, that can barely contain his tantalizing girth within.  

He runs a hand down my spine. Stopping as he reaches the fat of my ass. “I am going to spank this delectable ass 10 times. 5 for enjoying your seduction of Barber too much and 5 for being bare underneath your dress in public without my knowledge. You are to count every slap. Understood?”  

“Yes, Sir.”  

“Good girl. Now tell me what your safe word is.”  

“Holiday.”  

“Remember, I will never strike you in anger. If you feel it becomes too much, you must use your safe word and everything stops. Understood?”  

“Yes, Sir.”  

“Let’s begin..” He rears his hand back and sends it flying. Striking me right on the meat of my left ass cheek, dead center.  

“One.” I gasp out. 

Continue: ao3 tumblr

“Do you know how many times I have fantasized about being between these soft thighs and seeing just how wet you were for me.” He practically moans. “This pussy is fucking perfection baby girl. A piece of art that can never be replicated. I feast for the flesh as well as the tongue. A never ending ambrosia to which I may gorge myself upon.”

“Holy fuck Eds. I knew you were good with your words when it came to DMing and song writing. But that right there was some seat dampening swoon worthy material. You’re as charismatic as a cult leader. I would gladly kneel before your altar and follow you anywhere if you kept speaking to me like that.”

“Did you mean to say all of that out loud?”

“Not all of it but what the hell it’s true.”

“You are sober right now right?” He asks with sincerity in his eyes.

“Yes, Eddie. I may be horny as hell but I am of sound body and mind. You’re in the clear.”

“Good. I want you to remember every moment of this as it will be a story we tell our grandkids one day.”

“Speaking of forever already?”

“I’ve waited this long to have a chance to make you mine. I’m never letting you go. We already act like an old married couple without all the raunchy bits. Might as well make it official.”

“You gonna wax poetic all night or are you going to show me what I’ve been missing all these years?”

“Always such a fucking brat”

As I open my mouth, a fresh retort on my tongue, Eddie dips his head between my thighs and runs his tongue up my cunt from entrance to clit. Sucking my little pearl into his mouth and rendering me speechless. A whimper is all that escapes my throat.

He barely raises his head from my mound. Eyes closed as he not so subtly licks his lips. “Now I know your wound up real tight baby. So I’m going to go ahead and help you get that first O out of the way. Hold on to something. This is going to be quick.”

Continue: ao3 tumblr

Tony has decided that tonight’s game is Truth or Dare. It seems the man of iron is also enjoying watching the gods get under Steve’s skin.

You take every dare, and they get raunchier by the ask. You give Nat, who is sat next to Captain Cranky, a sultry little lap dance that ends in a heated kiss. Only to be broken up by Steve’s quiet growl.

On your next turn your dared to make Thor get a boner without touching him. You saunter behind the loveseat he is perched on. Leaning in so that you can whisper in his ear. You regale him with all the dirty things you love that he does to you. The way his lightning makes you sing like no other. All stated low enough for only the gods and the super soldiers to hear. Your mission is a success of course. Thor’s unable to hide the ‘hammer’ tenting his slacks as he pulls you over the back of the couch onto his lap and bites down on your throat making you giggle.  

The game continues with Clint having to admit that he most certainly has seen his teammates getting it on when he has been up in the vents. “Some things you can’t unsee unfortunately.” He shivers.

Sam, having confessed who he thinks has the best ass, turns to you. “Truth or Dare Ci?”

“Dare of course. Why change it up now.”

“I dare you to get Loki to genuinely smile.”

You look at him quizzically. “You think you’re so smart. Prepare to be knocked down a peg or three bird boy.”

Standing you walk over to Loki, who has been leaning against the wall, observing all night. With a cheeky smile you wave your fingers and cloak yourselves in darkness that's not only soundproof, but is also time spelled as well.

You lower to your knees and snap Loki’s pants out of existence. The visual of you before him is enough to turn his cock hard as steel in front of your very eyes. You waste no time attaching your lips to the foreskin covered tip. Teasing the sensitive flesh with your tongue before sinking down to the hilt. You pull out all the stops. Sucking his cock until he comes down your throat with a roar. Savoring every drop as he fills your belly.

Removing the spell, it seems to the room as if only 1 minute has passed. It does not go unnoticed that Loki is relaxed while he continues to lean against the wall. Grinning like a loon.

This is when Steve notices your slightly swollen lips and quiet panting. Having been on the receiving end of that look many a time, he seethes. Cracking the glass of whiskey in his hand.

You give your turn to Loki so that you may catch your breath. It’s no surprise to anyone that he chooses Steve. “Truth or Dare Captain?”

“Truth. I have nothing to hide.” He challenges the God of Mischief.

“Alright.” He glances at you quickly. Catching you subtly lick your lips, most likely still tasting of him, grinning to yourself. “When was the last time you got your cock properly serviced and with who?”

Everyone assumes the answer will be you when you were still together a couple weeks ago.

With a cocky grin and sip of his drink he answers as he stares you down. “Yesterday after training with Sharon. She caught me on my way to change in my room and said I looked tense and needed a release. I took her up on her offer. Plus she gives decent head.”

He must have thought that you were going to be upset that he let poor lovesick Sharon suck his dick instead of getting the best head of his life from you. You couldn’t care less actually.

Not when you were getting dicked down in your own post training bath with Thor. It really is a great way to help stretch out and relax your muscles.

“Good for you Steven. You always are so tense after a rough training session. I know I was. Thor helped sort me out though.” You sweetly state.

“Are you serious right now? You two were practically on the verge of killing each other in the training room.”

“Great foreplay. Don’t tell me you never partook in post battle coitus with her. She is ravenous after any kind of rough play.” Thor, the sweet himbo that he is, adds in.

“Fuck this. I’m going to bed.”

“Should I call Sharon to come lick your wounds?”

“Fuck you Ci”

“Sorry not tonight, Cap.”

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Dean has me propped on the trunk of my car as soon as he has his guitar secured inside. His broader frame sandwiched between my thighs as we makeout like the lovestruck teenagers we once were. Forgetting there is such a thing as air we need to breathe.

With reluctance I pull out of the kiss. Dean’s lips chasing mine and providing me a nip to the chin for the inconvenience. I have far naughtier things in mind for our impromptu reunion than just making out in a dark parking lot on my car.

“You gonna let me ride you properly this time pretty boy?”

This gets his attention. A smirkish grin adorning his handsome face.

“No promises. These wicked hips tend to do naughty naughty things that make my brain short circuit. I can't control what my instinctual hindbrain does.”

He squeezes said body part to emphasize his point.

“Best crawl into the back seat then. Unless you want to give the bar a show.”

He lifts me off the trunk with a growl and smacks my ass. Walking himself over to the passenger side, my keys still in hand, to unlock the door. Pushing the seat forward to gain access to the back seat.

“After you, Wildflower.”

I bend over to make my way into the back when feel Dean’s hands clamp around my hips.

“Actually Imma need ya to unbutton your fly and slide your jeans down to your calves for me sweetheart. Need to sear you bending over for me so sweetly into my brain.”

I’ve always had a weakness for when Dean got controlling like this. It does something to his voice. Turning it all gravelly and rough, like he can't contain how much he needs me.

So I do as I’m told and unbutton my fly. Lowering my ripped jeans to my knees. Exposing my soaked tiny lilac lace panties to the chill night air.

“Fuuuck. Look at that wet patch. This all for me baby girl?”

He runs his thumb down the damp gusset. Resting it on my clit with just the right amount of pressure to make me squirm. 

“Mmhmm.”

“Get in the back seat Wildflower. And keep that delectable ass up in the air for me.”

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“You and I have some things we need to work out. Are you up for it Little Moon?”

“Does this have something to do with you overhearing me singing?”

“That’s part of it.”

You sigh. “Okay. Give me your worst.”

He grabs the waistband of your shorts, snapping them against your skin. "First I need these off of you. We're gonna have this talk with you warming my cock so you understand just how serious I am." 

With a determined look and slick quickly dampening the crotch of your shorts, you stand up on shaky legs. With an initial push down over your ass, you shimmy them the rest of the way before taking a step out and kicking them off to the side.

His eyes devour your bare lower half, biting his lip as he runs a palm along the bulge in his jeans. “Mmm. Good girl. You really would do anything for me huh?” He hits you with his dazzling smile, the one that always has you weak in the knees. “Come here and unzip me, Omega. I want you to pull me out and sit on the evidence of what your scent does to me, darlin’.”

You can feel your slick beginning to slowly leak down onto your thighs, perfuming the air further with your scent. You squeeze them together before stepping forward and doing as your Alpha requested. You bend over at the hip, ghosting your fingers down his torso until you reach the tented denim, releasing his hard length to the light of day. With a quick squeeze to his base, you straddle his lap and slowly lower yourself down onto his thick cock, letting it fill you up inch by inch. 

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at the possessiveness and lust swirling in his Cobalt blues. Drawing in a deep breath, your lids become heavy, you can’t help but lose yourself in how good his mouth watering scent mixes with your own sweet essence. As you reopen your eyes, he places a soft kiss on your lips, sliding his hand down to wrap around your throat. "Now be a good little Omega for me and pay attention to what I have to tell you."

You nod your agreement. Your tongue, incapable of forming words at the moment.

“I was next door at Op’s, shooting the shit in the kitchen. Downloading him on all this Tara business. When this music drifts in through the window that faces your backyard.” He pushes his thumb under your chin. “Imagine my surprise when Op tells me it’s probably just you playing around out back.”

You swallow against his fingers. “You heard me.”

“Oh yes, Little Moon. I heard every sweet and tortured word you sang.” He smirks at you. “At first I thought you were just singing to sing. Though the words did sound a bit like a confession. It wasn’t until you finished and Diamond got to chatting that I connected the dots. All those precious words were about me.”

"Yes." You whisper out.

"And here I was, getting called out by Op right before the universe comes and drops a neon sign pointed in your direction." He licks his parched lips. "I originally came over here to tease you about getting high and serenading the neighborhood.” He chuckles to himself. “After hearing you say it wasn’t worth the energy to wait around for me and then still called me out on it when I showed up. Well, darlin' I knew I had to rectify that."

"So that's what this little show of Dominance is all about then? Witnessing the power you as a whole have over me?” You give him a challenging look.

“Not at all.” Unbothered by your accusing tone, he caresses your neck, fingers dipping down until they ghost along your collarbone. “This is all to make it clear where I stand. I heard you loud and clear, Omega. No more dancing around it. I’m taking what’s rightfully mine.” He growls out.

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