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cinnoasch · 4 months ago

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Charmed [1] (March x Reader)

A/N: I do plan on making a part 2, but still let me know if you want to see it! This was soo much fun to write.

Charmed [2] Here

Word Count: 2173

“March! Look, Y/N drew a picture of me!” Olric grins as he walks into the blacksmith’s shop.

March turns around from his desk, taking the paper from Olric. “...why do you have bunny ears?”

“Oh, that was from when we helped Juniper out with something! Apparently, whatever she gave me made bunny ears appear on my head. Man, I was running laps around the town that day, I wonder, would she give me another one if I asked?”

Olric continues talking as March stares at the drawing. He didn’t know much about drawing, or art in general, but he had to admit it was good. Somehow he could almost picture Olric smiling and running around, just like he was in your drawing.

“They’re really good right? I heard from Ryis they’ve been helping him with some blueprints too. Maybe Y/N could help with some blacksmithing blueprints in the future!”

“Don’t need it.” March grumbles, handing the paper back to Olric. “If anything, we have that under control already.” He sighs, standing up as he starts walking to the door. “Watch the till for me, I’m going to go work on some orders.”

“You got it, bro! Let me know if you need me!” Olric replies.

As March steps outside and sets off to work, he thinks about what Olric had said. He had a point. With the way the town rank was rising, more and more orders came in each day. Not to mention, along with orders came more complicated requests. Of course, it wasn’t a problem, he could handle it easily. Though, extra help couldn’t hurt sometimes.

March shakes his head as he swings his hammer. Nope, not thinking about that. He pushes those thoughts away. If he needed help, he could just ask Olric. But, there was that one time where he and Olric were backed up and you had pitched into help… He sighs heavily. You were on his mind more than he’d like at the moment and you hadn’t even shown up yet. Not that he wanted you to or anything.

He furrows his brow, setting the hammer down. He couldn’t concentrate on work at all. In fact, these past few days whenever you stopped by to say hi, March would always have trouble continuing work afterwards. But now, you haven’t even visited and he was having trouble concentrating. Was something wrong with him? He always felt oddly fuzzy and disgustingly warm whenever you came by. Was he getting sick? No…it was summer, there’s no way that was the case.

March pops his head into the shop, letting Olric know he was going for a walk. He needed to clear his mind and a walk around town would be perfect for that. As long as he didn’t see you or hear about you, he could take a break and get back to work easily… is what he initially thought.

Every place he went, March somehow can’t escape the topic of you. Not only that but no matter who he talked to, they just had to show him the portrait you gave them. And not only that, the stupid fuzzy, warm feeling only overstayed its welcome.

“Ryis? Are you here? I got those nails you needed.” March calls out as he walks into the carpenter’s shop.

“Upstairs!”

He walks upstairs and into Ryis’ room. “Hey, here’s the nails.”

“Thanks. I’m surprised you came to deliver them. I was going to pick them up a little later today.”

“Yeah, I needed a walk. Working on blueprints?” March asks, looking at the papers scattered across the desk. Then his gaze falls on a paper to the side of the desk.

“Oh, that was from Y/N.” Ryis explains, following his gaze. “They helped me out with a project and in return ended up drawing me. It’s nice isn’t it?”

“Nice is one way to put it…” March mumbles. “I’ve been seeing their drawings everywhere. They probably gave one to everyone in town.”

“Except you?”

He scoffs, “Not like I care. They can do whatever they want.”

Ryis only chuckles, grinning slightly, “It’s okay to say you feel left out. If I were you, I’d probably be a bit upset that the person I like-”

“I do not like them.” March says, crossing his arms.

“Uh-huh...anyways, if you really want them to draw you, why not invite them to join in on drawing club this Friday? And you can volunteer to be the model.”

“No way… that’s a stupid idea…”

“Maybe, but it’s an idea. Or, you know, you could just ask them to draw you.”

“Okay, this conversation is over. I’m going home.” March says, walking downstairs.

Ryis chuckles, shaking his head as he returns to working on his blueprints.

On his way back home, March couldn’t help but think of what Ryis said. There was no way in hell he would ever directly ask you to draw him. Wouldn’t that make him seem… weird? Or at least make it seem like he liked you when he definitely did not. March sighs as his thoughts continue to swim around in his head. He was definitely about to regret the decision he just made.

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

The rest of the week passes by and you find yourself entering the inn that Friday night after a long day of running around on the farm.

“Hey, Y/N over here!” Olric waves at you from the back of the inn.

You wave back, and walk up to the table, seeing Valen, Elise, Landen, Hayden and March present as well. “Evening, everyone.”

“Oh, dearie you’re just in time! Would you like to join tonight’s drawing club session?” Elise asks. “March here has graciously volunteered to be our model for tonight.”

March stands in front of the table, arms crossed. He looks at you expectedly, almost if he wants you to join.

“Sure, I’ll join.” You say with a smile. You take a seat next to Olric and he passes you a piece of paper and a pencil.

“Perfect!” Elise smiles, she clasps her hands together and gestures to March. “Now, strike a pose, March!”

“Uh, like what?”

“Oh, how about you flex? Show off your muscles!” Olric suggests.

“Flex? Can’t I just stand like this?”

“Oh, that’s a perfect pose!” Elise replies.

Valen nods in agreement. “Yes, it does quite fit the image of a blacksmith.”

March sighs, mumbling. “Fine.” He was seriously beginning to regret this. Still, he places one hand on his hip and very begrudgingly lifts his other arm to flex. “You guys better burn this pose into your brains, I’m not going to stand like this the whole time.”

The group chuckles and you all set off to drawing. The lively chatter of the Drama and Dragon’s group behind you fills the air as well as conversations from the bar. After a few minutes Hayden speaks up, asking a question.

“Say Y/N, have you been drawing for a long time?”

“For a while, I guess?” You reply, as you glance up at March for a second before returning your gaze back to the paper in front of you. “I used to draw a lot of things I saw on my adventures.”

“Really? See any cool animals?”

“What about rocks?” Olric adds.

You laugh slightly, “I can bring some drawings next week to show, if you guys want.”

“Oh, yes please!” Elise chimes in. “You know, your drawings have a sort of romantic charm to them. That portrait you drew of me really brought back old memories.”

“I’ll say!” Landen grins. “That portrait you drew of Errol and I reminded me of the good ol’ days.”

Small conversations between you continue as March finally relaxes his arm. Everyone was practically singing praises about your portraits. He couldn’t quite understand what charm they were talking about though. He had seen your portraits of other people…but maybe he couldn’t understand because he never got one from you?

March slowly steps closer to the table. He was curious. He had heard from Balor once that you mentioned you drew people based on what you thought of them. What exactly did you think of him?

“Are you… moving closer to the table, March?” Valen asks with a slight smirk. “You know the rules. You’ll get to see everyone’s drawings when we’re done. Y/N’s included.”

He freezes in place, his face heating up. “I was just…pacing.”

“Mm, well I’m sure we’re almost done, so be patient.”

“March, can you lift your arm up again?” Olric asks.

He sighs, flexing his arm again, mumbling underneath his breath. “No way am I doing this ever again.”

About ten minutes later, everyone finishes drawing and Elise smiles, waving March over to sit down. “I think everyone’s finished! Would anyone like to go first, or shall I start us off?”

“You can start us off, Elise.” Valen replies. “And… we’ll let Y/N go last since they’re the new recruit.” She glances at March as he frowns slightly at that statement. “Unless… March would like to choose who goes first?”

“Whatever is fine.” He mumbles, resting his chin in his hand.

And so, everyone showcases their drawings. You couldn’t help but smile as they explained certain details they added. It was pretty amusing to see that everyone had drawn March frowning.

“Am I seriously frowning in all of these?” March asks as he looks through the current drawings strewn across the table.

“Well, we did tell you to smile some.” Landen says with a chuckle. “But it looked like you were lost in your own little world this whole time.”

“We still have Y/N’s drawing to look at.” Valen adds. She smiles lightly at you and everyone turns their attention towards you. “If you would, Y/N.”

You nod as you slide your paper to the middle of the table.

“Oh!” Elise exclaims. “You drew him with a smile!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen March smile like this.” Valen muses. “What made you draw him with one?”

“Ah,” You rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “It just felt right, I guess. March…does a lot for Mistria, we all do. I can’t quite explain it… but a smile fits him better, don’t you think?”

“Hm, how thoughtful.” Valen says with a small grin. “What do you think about it, March?”

March stays silent as he stares at your drawing. An unexplainable feeling wells up inside of him as he looks at it. The feeling was similar to what he usually felt when you were around but… it was more clear in a way. There was something soft about it. Something…warm. It was different than when he saw your portraits of other people. March himself wasn’t even sure if he had ever smiled like that. But he was certain of one thing, he liked this feeling.

“Is he…smiling?” Hayden asks.

“I think he is.” Landen replies. “Huh, you don’t see that often.”

Then March lifts his head, the small smile from before disappears quickly as he stares at the group. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Oh, nothing.” Valen says. “Well, I guess we can wrap it up then. Actually, Y/N, why don’t you be the model for next week, you wouldn’t mind would you?”

You shake your head, “If anything I’d be honored.”

“Perfect. See you all next week then.”

With that, everyone cleans up the table and says their goodbyes. Some stick around at the inn, while you leave, seeing March had left in a hurry.

You spot him walking back toward his shop and you call out to him. “March!”

He turns around, hands stuffed into his apron pockets. “Oh, Y/N. Thought you'd be heading back to the farm.”

“I wanted you to have this.” You say, handing him the drawing.

“...why?”

“I um…” you laugh slightly. “If I'm being honest, this is the only drawing that I felt confident with giving you.”

“Confident? …you mean you’ve drawn me before?”

“Yeah, actually… I was just never sure if you wanted them or not… but you seemed to really like this one, so I thought you might want it.”

March takes the drawing out of your hands, staring at it again for a few seconds before looking at you. “Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it. I’ve never gotten something like this before.”

You nod smiling, “No problem, I’m just glad you like it! I’m expecting your drawing in return next week then.”

“Even if it’s bad?”

“If it’s from you, then it doesn’t matter to me.” You say a bit softly. Then you clear your throat. “Anyways, night March, see you later!”

You turn on your heel and wave as you head back to the farm. March waves back and starts walking back to the blacksmith’s, staring at your drawing once more. Maybe he should ask to see those other drawings you did. He smiles slightly, that feeling from before creeping up on him. He was looking forward to next week.

#march fields of mistria #fields of mistria x reader #fom march x reader #fom march #fields of mistria

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 months ago

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Words: 7,252 (oof, this one got long!)

Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader

Reader pronouns: largely unspecified (but Negan does refer to reader as doll and darling which could be considered more feminine terms of endearment)

Warnings: language haha, frightening scenarios, references to past violence

Summary: Months have now passed since Y/N began taking on Negan as a "project" and the reader suggests an even longer run outside the walls.

A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the parts on the Negan Master List.

Previous Part here!

“It’s been months,” you said. “There hasn’t been a single time that I’ve felt unsafe, and both of you know I never let my guard down.”

Daryl was leaning up against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was serious but largely unreadable. Michonne leaned forward on the table, considering your words.

“We need to think long-term here. Are we just going to keep him locked up forever? Or is there some version of this where he gets out and either integrates as much as possible or—or goes on his way?”

Michonne sighed and shook her head. “I’m not sure any of us have the answer to that yet,” she said.

“I know. I still don’t,” you said. “I’m not sure what the future looks like for him, but I know we have to do more than just letting him out to pick tomatoes every once in a while. So, that’s what I’m doing. And with you two stuck here dealing with the wall and the kids—and the pantry and medical supplies starting to run low, well… let’s kill two birds with one stone.”

Daryl sighed and straightened up. “I ain’t gonna say I like it, but I trust ya and I’ve seen your judgment play out too many times to doubt it. If ya think it’ll be alrigh’, then—well, ‘m good with it. But ya gotta show us exactly where you’ll be and when to expect ya back in case we need to come lookin’.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll mark it all on the map. We should be able to make it out and back in a single long day. Leave early. Get back late.”

“And no weapons for him unless it’s an absolute emergency,” Michonne emphasized.

“Of course,” you agreed.

“Alright,” Michonne nodded. “When will you go?”

“Tomorrow,” you said. “I’ll get everything ready today.”

“I’ll walk ya out,” Daryl drawled, watching as you grabbed your bag and shouldered it. “Listen—” he started.

You looked over at him and smiled, already knowing you were about to get a worried Daryl Dixon lecture. “Mhm?” you prompted him.

“The hell are ya smirkin’ about?” he growled, his brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” you laughed. “Go ahead.”

“Well—if somethin’ happens out there… if it comes down to you or him…” he trailed off.

Your brow furrowed deeply now to match his. “It won’t,” you said seriously.

He shifted anxiously. “But if it does…”

“Daryl. It’s not going to,” you insisted.

He nodded, pulling back. “Wish I could go with ya… I’d feel better about it.”

He relented and nodded, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Okay. C’mere.” He pulled you into a hug and you smiled as he folded you up against him. “I just want ya to be safe, is all.”

“I know. I will,” you agreed.

“I know. But it’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re shitting me, right?” Negan said, his breakfast still in his hand, not a single bite taken.

You stared at him and then let out a dry laugh. “That’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting,” you said.

“Well, shit. I mean… a real scavenging trip? That’s what you’re saying?” Negan said. He ran a hand back through his hair and stood, pacing a tight circle in his cell. “Who else is going?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why? Someone specific you want me to invite? Want me to ask your old pal Gabriel? Or wait—Eugene?”

He laughed but looked vaguely shocked. “Well, I’m sorry but I’m just—a little fuckin’ surprised, doll.” You’d eased some on scolding Negan for the pet names over the last few weeks and generally just ignored them now unless it was something really egregious. (You’d nearly hit him for calling you ‘princess’ one day, so he had at least not tried that again.) He seemed to enjoy taking full advantage of you turning a deaf ear to them now. “Just you and me? Out there?” he clarified.

“You and I have already been out there alone how many times, hmm? I don’t see why this should be any different,” you said, digging around in your pack.

“Well, it’s farther. I mean, farther for you to get help if—”

You straightened up and fixed a skeptical gaze on him. “If what? If you suddenly decide to attempt to murder me? Attack me? Steal the car and leave me out there? I’ll still be armed and you won’t. Besides, I’ve been through more shit out there than—”

He laughed again. “I was just gonna say in case any number of bad fuckin’ things happens out there. And we both know that they do.”

“Yeah. You used to be one of those bad things, remember?” you shot back quickly. He sighed at your deflection and you couldn’t help but laughing. “I am having to sell this harder to you than I did to Michonne and Daryl. What is going on? What are you worried about?”

“I’m not worried! Although, it would be fuckin’ nice to have something to defend myself with in case of the dead or unexpected assholes…”

“ ‘Unexpected Assholes’?” you repeated. “What is that, your one man play?” you quipped. “Let me guess—you’ll be playing yourself.”

Negan couldn’t resist a hearty laugh at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s good. You’re fuckin’ hilarious as usual, doll.” But he looked serious again the next moment. “Anyway, about me having some way to defend myself…”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” you said lazily. “I’ll let you have, like, a stick if you want,” you smirked. He only stared back at you. “I told you that I’ll protect you! You think I’m just gonna let a walker wander up and bite you?” There was a thick silence for a moment where he just stared back at you.

“I’m not worried about one walker. I’m worried about all the random, rogue shit that can happen out there.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to trust me! Do you not want to go or what?” you pressed him, perplexed at his reaction.

He paused, drew in a deep breath, and let it out. Then that damn smirk showed back up on his face, sending his hazel eyes sparkling. “Are you asking if I want to go spend some quality time alone with you? Just the two of us? No one to interrupt… Completely at your mercy for whatever you may decide to do with me… or to me…”

You rolled your eyes, catching onto his tone immediately. “That could include killing you,” you cautioned him, eliciting a low laugh from him. You hated that the deep gravel of it gave you goosebumps. You did your best to ignore it.

“I don’t know… I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get away with me where nobody can easily interrupt us,” Negan said. “I mean, shit. No need hide your true intentions from me,” he grinned. “I am absolutely 110% on board with that. Use me all you want, doll,” he grinned, now gripping the bars of his cell door. “God, I’d love to be fuckin’ used by you.”

You crossed your arms and fixed a stern look on him, hoping that your face wasn’t flushing bright red. You cleared your throat. “Sounds more like wishful thinking on your part. It’s a scavenging run, Negan, not a fucking romantic getaway,” you said.

“Are you sure you said that right? I think you meant romantic fucking getaway. Emphasis on the—”

“Negan! Stop! I will cancel this whole thing! Jesus Christ!”

That shit-eating grin was still on his face and he laughed again, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Alright, alright. I’m done. I think…”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Scavenging. Run.” you repeated.

“Yeah, we’ll see, doll. We’ll see. So, where are we going exactly?”

You forged ahead, ignoring his last comments in favor of moving on. “There are some old houses and other structures we’ve only ever done a cursory search of. Probably not going to make a huge score but there’s always something left behind, something hidden. But who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky,” you said.

“Fuck me, I’d love to get lucky…” he laughed again.

“Negan!” you exclaimed again.

“Alright! I’m sorry,” he chuckled.

“So, are you in?” you asked, slightly exasperated.

The two of you were separated by only the iron bars and a small buffer of space, hardly a foot. He was still smiling at you and you hated that the thought that he was handsome flickered through your mind. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought it—but the thought always surprised you, like it came from somewhere outside of yourself, not by your conjuration alone. “Fuck yes, I’m in,” he answered, interrupting your thoughts.

“You promise to listen to everything I say? If I tell you to run, if I tell you to hide—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I promise,” he said, smiling. “If I don’t, you’ll shoot me in the fuckin’ knee or some shit. Can we skip the pep talk?”

You gave him a stern look but unlocked his cell and tossed him the spare pack you’d brought. You dug into your own bag and handed him some supplies, including some outerwear. He tucked them into his bag and looked up at you expectantly. “Where to, warden?”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help the tiniest smirk. “Car is right outside. Let’s get going. The sun is starting to come up and it could be a long day.”

“Great. Can I drive?” he quipped, shouldering his bag. You only shot him a look that made him laugh again, but he saw the slight curve at the corners of your mouth.

The drive to the crumbling ruins of the neighborhood was slow, but uneventful. The sun was up and filtering through the trees overhead as you and Negan climbed out and started toward the buildings. You were quiet, focused, and Negan couldn’t help admiring your efficiency and care as you went about your mission.

The two of you stopped at the edge of the crumbling street, concealed in some taller brush. The street was overgrown with weeds and lined with dilapidated houses. It was almost eerily quiet.

“Alright,” you breathed quietly. “We’ll go building by building, down one side and back up the other. Pay attention to signs of walkers or people,” you said softly, gripping the straps of your pack. “Follow my lead and stay close.”

“You got it,” Negan replied, slipping his hands into his pockets as he followed alongside you toward the first house. “I gotta say, it is really uncomfortable being out here without a damn weapon. More so here than in the woods,” he commented, his eyes shifting around to study the other buildings, scrutinizing for a sign of movement. “I feel like I’m naked,” he said.

“I guarantee—” You paused to tap on the wall of the house the two of you were standing beside, listening for anything inside. “You’re not. If you were naked, I would not be this fuckin’ calm, Negan,” you said, half-distracted.

He chuckled and licked his bottom lip, smirking.

“What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t think that sounded how you meant it to sound,” he laughed.

Your cheeks flushed. “Oh, shut up. You know what I meant!”

“Your brain is saying one thing but your lips are sayin’ another, darlin’,” he teased you.

You rolled your eyes and pulled the front door open, stepping cautiously inside. The smell was of mildew and stagnant air as you stepped inside. A heavy layer of dust and dirt coated everything; overturned furniture, books standing or tipped over on shelves, a stately chair still positioned in front of the fireplace. Somewhere deeper in the house, water was dripping. You had your gun out and started clearing the lower floors. Negan ghosted behind you.

You made for the staircase to check the upstairs when there was a soft thump overhead. Your eyes and Negan’s went to the ceiling.

“Alright… maybe someone is home after all,” he commented, giving you a concerned look.

“It’s gotta be a walker,” you said. “Maybe an animal.” You proceeded cautiously toward the staircase.

“Hey,” Negan said softly. “Be careful.”

You turned and looked at him for a long moment before you started up the stairs. He seemed genuinely on edge, worried. He stayed right on your heels as you climbed the steps, the muscle in his jaw tensed as his teeth clenched together.

You cleared two bedrooms and finally came to a closed door at the end of the hall. As the floor creaked under your boots, there was the sound of more movement behind the door. You reached for the door knob, gun ready in your other hand. You took a deep breath and quickly turned it shoving the door open and aiming the muzzle of your pistol inside.

An opossum let out an angry hiss and then scrambled up and out of a broken window. It had been rooting around in some debris on the floor. A huge sigh of relief escaped you and Negan watched your shoulders sag. You laughed a little as you turned to look back at Negan. He gave you a relieved look.

“I gotta be honest,” he said. “I fuckin’ hate this shit. I feel completely helpless without something to use if something bad happens. What am I supposed to do if you need help?”

You gave him a somewhat sympathetic look, thinking about how it would feel to be in his place—the unknown behind every locked door with no knife, no gun… completely vulnerable and reliant on someone who was essentially his jailor. “Well,” you said. “I have a feeling if something really did go wrong, you’d figure something out.”

He considered your words for a moment. “Yeah. I hope so.” He thought about what he would do. What if they ran into some bad men? Bad people? What would he really do if you were in danger? He didn’t have to think hard to know the answer. Anything. He’d do anything he needed to. The thought seemed to dig deep into the center of his chest and sit there, heavy. It was almost a surprise. “So, now what? House is clear.”

You holstered your gun again. “Now, we search. See if there’s anything left. A lot of people hid things, right after. There’s always something left behind. You take the upstairs. I’ll go through the downstairs.”

Negan nodded his agreement and turned back to the trashed bathroom, the sound of your steps fading away down the staircase. He searched every room, every cabinet, every closet, under beds, under loose floorboards, but came away with nothing of interest except for half a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. He headed downstairs where he could hear you rummaging around in the living room. “Hey,” he greeted you, stepping over the threshold. You were standing completely frozen now at the shelves, looking down at something. “Y/N?” he said again. You still didn’t seem to have heard him. He wandered closer. “Find something?”

You startled a little and turned to look at him, a picture frame in your hand. “Oh. No, not really. You?”

“Half a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I stuck it in my pack.” He nodded toward the frame. “What’s that?”

You looked down at it again. “It’s nothing. It’s just this—this family portrait. I wonder if they lived here—” you said thoughtfully. Your voice seemed to drift away a little. “Or what happened to them, you know? Did they make it? Were they ever safe again after the outbreak?”

Negan looked on with a thoughtful expression, his dark brows furrowed over his eyes. He nodded and moved closer to get a better view of the photo behind the cracked glass. He smiled at it, chuckling a little. “Hmm. Mom, Dad, and three kids. A perfect nuclear family,” he said.

“Looks like the 90s,” you laughed. “Check out the clothes.”

“Yeah, they probably went down to JCPenney to take advantage of the fancy photography studio,” Negan remarked. “Dad looks like an accountant, doesn’t he?”

“Mmm, I’m getting more of a bank manager vibe. Mom probably stayed at home when the kids were little and then goes back to work as a teacher once the youngest is in kindergarten,” you replied, now smiling a little too.

Negan ran a hand back through his hair thoughtfully and cocked his head. “You know—I was a teacher,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never really told anyone that since things went to shit. Kind of lessens the mystique,” he laughed dryly.

Your eyes snapped over to his face, one of your eyebrows arching gracefully with the question on your face. He laughed again. “Yeah, I know… hard to believe, right? How could such an asshole be a teacher?” he said.

A slight wince flickered across your face for a brief second at his words, as if you didn’t like the way he’d talked about himself. But that couldn’t be right… “What did you teach?”

“I was a high school P.E. teacher,” he said. “Coached some of the school teams too. Basketball. Football.”

“P.E.?” you repeated. “And you’re not even going to make a ‘physical education’ joke?” you teased him. “Wow. Are you feeling okay?”

He laughed lightly. “You beat me to it,” he said. He glanced back at the picture and sighed. “Should we get going? Lots of buildings to search,” he said.

You nodded and stared down at the picture for another moment.

“What’re you doing?” Negan asked, watching you take the back off the picture frame. You fumbled with the backing and then removed the family photo from the damaged frame.

“I just—feel like someone should remember them, you know?”

Negan’s gaze was fixed on you, flickering over your face. There was something so soft in it at that moment that you felt slightly unbalanced. You distracted yourself by bending to slip the photo into your pack. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said gently.

You deflected, laughing as you shouldered your pack again. “Oh, you’ve got no idea,” you said sarcastically, again ignoring the heat in your face. “Come on.”

The two of you went on, searching each home and several stores, working your way down the block and partway up the next. You’d managed some good finds, including a hidden cellar that clearly had belonged to a survivalist type (who had apparently “opted out” and his corpse still watched over the hidden entrance). You’d have to make a few trips to the car in order to get all the supplies and gear back, or otherwise figure out a way to get the car in through the overgrown side road. The two of you piled the finds in a safe place in one of the rooms on the main floor, stacking Rubbermaid tubs full of helpful items in neat piles.

“Fuck me,” Negan sighed, setting the last one on top. “Well, when you’re right, you’re fuckin’ right, doll. There’s always somethin’ left behind.”

You wiped at the sweat near your hairline. “Yeah,” you sighed. “Not bad.” You had a satisfied smile on your face. It felt good to do something concrete that would help people back home. You glanced out the window, assessing the light outside. It’d taken quite some time to get things moved up from the cellar and you wondered if you should keep searching the rest of the houses or call it a day. “I think it’s starting to get late,” you said, remarking mainly on the way the light already seemed like it was fading.

“Mmm,” Negan hummed, going to the front bay window and looking out. His eyes had been searching the street all day, vigilant, as if waiting for some psychos to suddenly burst out of one of the houses. But the only signs of inhabitation or squatting you’d found were clearly from long before, now covered in dust and debris or otherwise moldering in damp corners or on top of filthy mattresses. Now, as you were busy drinking from your canteen, Negan’s shifting suddenly stopped. “Hey, doll—I’m no meteorologist, but those clouds look like bad fuckin’ news.” It had been overcast all day, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that this was something else.

You capped your canteen and went to the front door, your brow now furrowed heavily to match his. You pulled the door open and peered at the sky. Ominous didn’t even begin to cover it. There was not a sniff of wind at the moment and the air seemed to hum with electricity. Negan appeared next to you in the doorway, squinting at the low and heavy sky.

“I’m pretty sure when the sky turns fuckin’ green, there’s some bad shit coming,” he said. He glanced over at you.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. “Yeah. Yeah, green sky is… tornado weather. Fuck,” you muttered, glancing back at the pile of supplies.

“What do you want to do?” Negan asked.

You sighed, pushing a hand back through your hair. “Even if we head back to the car now, we probably can’t outrun that… the old highway is FUBAR in some places. It’s not like we can drive 60 mph all the way back to Alexandria. And that would mean leaving all these supplies here.” As if on cue, the complete stillness in the air broke as a rushing wind approached like a tidal wave, creaking and cracking in the trees and swirling dust and dried leaves across the open ground until it reached the two of you standing on the porch. Your hair lifted and blew back from your face.

“I’ll ask you again,” Negan said, speaking louder now over the roar of the wind, “what do you want to do?”

You hesitated, glancing from him back to the quickly approaching menacing clouds. The little light left was fading fast. “Fuck,” you muttered again. “I—I think we’re better off weathering it here than in a car out there,” you said.

“I definitely agree with that,” Negan said.

“Once the storm clears, maybe then we can try to get the car in here and load up the supplies and get home. We’ll be delayed a bit longer than expected but—I think it’s the best move. Hopefully, we’re just stuck a couple more hours.”

Negan nodded. “Alright. Where are we holing up? Because this shit is about to kick the fuck off,” he said, surveying the street again.

“Here is as good a place as any,” you said. “There’s a basement and almost all the windows are intact or boarded up. Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Negan followed you in and shut the door on the wind. Your eyes were already on him when he turned around again. He was trying to decode your expression but it was largely unreadable. He unshouldered his pack and set it on the floor, taking a seat on the stairs across from where you were now leaning up against the wall. The ambient light from outside was quickly waning and before long you could hear raindrops start to pound the roof. They increased in size and then seemed to be blowing across the roof in waves of water.

You could hear the huge cottonwood trees creaking and cracking in the wind. You tried to peer out through the boarded slats over the window to see if they were dropping branches but it was too dark. Behind you, Negan pulled out a flashlight from his pack and clicked it on. It had grown extremely dark with the heavy storm clouds gathering and unleashing the torrents of rain. You were still standing right by the window, looking out, when he spoke again.

“Hey, maybe we should move away from the windows, doll,” Negan said, worried. He didn’t like how close you were standing to all that glass, even if it was mostly boarded over. His voice was deep and resonant in the space between you with just the raging background noise outside.

“Yeah. Maybe,” you said. You bent to grab your pack when you suddenly heard a loud thud against the side of the house. You straightened up, your eyes widening. Negan had heard it too, his eyes were narrowed, ears strained, listening. It was difficult to hear anything over the storm.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice breathy. “Some debris blowing against the house?” you asked.

Negan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, standing from his place on the steps and going to the doorway of the room the sound had seemed to come from. The roaring storm seemed to reach new extremes. The wind sounded like a train bearing down on the little dilapidated structure the two of you were sheltering in. Rain and hail lashed the siding and the roof. There was another thud from outside, this time on the window.

“There. Again,” you said, anxiously pacing toward Negan to stare into the room. His flashlight was still on. Another thud, and then another. You squinted, trying to distinguish anything through the boarded windows but it was too dark. Then, a flash of lightning shot the sky outside with blinding white and you couldn’t help the soft gasp that left you at what it illuminated.

“What?” Negan asked urgently.

You couldn’t speak. You just reached for the flashlight. Negan looked down as your hand landed on top of his. He could feel you trembling slightly and for a moment he was so shocked by your touch that he didn’t understand what you were doing. With your gentle grip, you directed the yellow beam of the light slowly to the window. As it came to rest between two of the boards and shone through the glass, Negan registered that there were walkers clawing to get in, rotting faces pressed to the glass, bloody fingertips, snapping teeth. Dozens. “Ho-ly fuck!” he exclaimed, jerking the flashlight off the window and quickly shutting it off. You and Negan stood in the dark for a moment, neither of you moving, now keenly aware of the pounding noise and dull thuds on the exterior of the house, cutting through the wind and rain. Were you imagining it or was the pounding increasing, getting louder? More frequent? Negan could hear your breath beside him in the dark. “Well, that shit was straight out of a fuckin’ horror movie,” he remarked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “Where the fuck did they come from? It sounds like we’re surrounded.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Seems like they rolled in with the storm.”

“Maybe they can feel the barometric pressure changes or something. Almost like a migration,” you commented, feeling your heart rate and breathing finally start to slow down after the shock of discovering the herd.

Negan chuckled beside you and you heard him shift. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Eugene?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Okay… so, now we just have the storm of the century and a fucking herd to deal with. Great. Okay… let’s think…”

Negan finally clicked his flashlight on again but kept it pointed at the floor. “This place seems sturdy but maybe we should barricade ourselves better.”

You glanced toward the basement where you’d discovered the hidden cellar. Your eyes next drifted toward the stack of supplies. “Basement is pretty much ready to barricade thanks to that dead survivalist guy, but if they do break in we could be trapped down there for fuck-knows how long.”

“Not sure we have any better options. We don’t want to be upstairs either. We’re sure as shit not going out on the roof in this if they get in and if there is a fucking tornado and we're on the top floor—” Negan broke off.

“Yeah,” you agreed, nodding. You dug into your own pack and pulled out a headlamp, quickly turning it on dimly. “Grab some of these. They have food and medical supplies, and some other gear,” you said, grabbing one of the many Rubbermaid containers and heading toward the stairs down to the basement.

“Man, I’m so glad we carried all this shit up here,” Negan joked, picking up a stack of two big containers.

“Sorry. Next time I’ll consult my crystal ball,” you quipped, but right then there was the sound of shattering glass and the storm and the growling got slightly louder. One of the windows in the next room had broken. Negan could see hands and fingers reaching in around the boards.

“Let’s go. Downstairs,” he urged you, his voice intense and thick with concern.

You started down, but shot back at him over your shoulder. “Aren’t I the one in charge here?”

“I don’t see you disagreeing with that idea,” Negan said, setting his containers down beside yours. “Stay here. I’ll go grab a couple more boxes,” he said.

“Whoa. Me stay here? What is this? You don’t even have a weapon!” you argued.

He gave you an exasperated look. “Fine. Then by all means, come with me, darlin’!” He turned and rushed back up the stairs and you had to hurry after him, one hand on your knife in its sheath.

“Negan,” you snapped at him in a low voice as you rounded the doorway back onto the main floor. But he wasn’t by the supplies. You glanced around and could see the dim glow of his light in the next room, the one where the walkers had broken a window. Rain and the occasional hailstone were puddling under the window among the shards of glass. “What the fuck?” You nearly collided with each other when he turned around and started back toward the door. “What are you doing?! Put that down!” you growled.

He had an iron fireplace poker in his hand. That’s what he’d been doing in this room, grabbing it from the set of fireplace tools. “Don’t you think this qualifies as kind of a capital “E” emergency?” he argued.

You stared at him, intense, your chest heaving, and to your annoyance, he smiled at you.

“Goddamn. You look fuckin’ hot as shit when you’re pissed off! I mean, you’re always hot but ho-ly shit! I'm scared and suddenly all tingly downtown!”

Your hand went purposefully to your knife again and you stared him down. “I said. Put it. The fuck. Down.”

“Doll, just hear me out—”

“Negan.”

Another crack and the sound of shattering glass behind him and you saw more arms reaching through between the boards of another window. “Okay, we don’t have time for this right now. You can stab me or whatever downstairs,” he said. He breezed past you and grabbed a couple more boxes of supplies. You had no choice but to begrudgingly follow after him.

He turned, straightening up as he heard your boots hitting the bottom steps, and he opened his mouth to say something, but you were already on him before he could get even a syllable out.

You kicked him hard on the inside of one of his thighs and he dropped sideways onto his knee. The poker dropped from his hand and rang out on the cement floor. You kicked it away and it slid into the far wall with a harsh scraping sound. Your knife was unsheathed and pointed at the base of his throat before he knew what was happening. To your amazement, once he recovered from his pained grimaces, he fucking smiled again.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?” he asked in a low, gruff voice.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. When I brought you out here, you said you would listen to every fucking thing I told you to do. This is your one single second chance. Next time you fuck up, it’ll be my knife going into your thigh instead of my boot. Got it?”

He gulped, still on one knee at the point of your knife and still, to your annoyance, vaguely smiling. “Oh, I got it,” he responded, his eyebrows lifting.

“Good,” you said, backing off and letting him stand up. “Now, go pick up the fucking poker. I’m gonna lock up the door…”

“Wait‚ what?” Negan laughed, still rubbing at his leg where you’d kicked him. “After all that, you’re letting me have it?”

“Yes,” you said. “This does roughly qualify as an emergency. Or at least, the border of one. But those kinds of decisions? They’re not yours to make, Negan. You’re not the one in charge here.”

He looked both stunned and amused. “That is becoming more and more clear every fuckin’ day,” he said softly, looking at you with some expression you couldn’t completely discern.

You gave him a perplexed look and then headed up the stairs to seal up the door. There were heavy brackets on the back of the reinforced door (thank you, dead survivalist man) and you spotted a thick board leaning up against the railing. Once you’d closed and locked it, you heaved up the heavy wooden slat and dropped it into place in the brackets, adding extra security in case the walkers did get inside and try to push through. As you removed your hand hastily to head back downstairs, a jagged corner on one of the metal brackets sliced into your palm. You jerked it back and stared as a long crimson gash began to leak fat drops of blood onto the steps below you. You pulled in a hiss of breath through your teeth. “Great,” you sighed, cradling it in the other hand and trotting back down. Overhead, you could hear the storm still raging, but as a low hum now.

Negan stood up from his seat on one of the containers of supplies as soon as he saw you. A concerning amount of shockingly red blood was dripping off your hand and onto the floor. “What happened?” he asked, moving closer as you attempted to dig into your pack with your other hand, blood now running down your forearm. “Jesus, let me help you!” He grabbed your pack away and dug around inside until he found a small kit with spare bits of cloth for bandaging, some gauze pads, and a few other assorted odds and ends for first aid. “Wait, I’ve got that alcohol in my pack. We should clean it first.”

“It’ll be fine,” you argued, pulling off your headlamp and watching as Negan clicked on a lantern he’d found in one of the boxes.

“Would you let me help you with this at least? Can I? Please? I’m asking permission now,” he joked, shooting you a goading expression.

You cocked your head at him and tried to look annoyed, but you conceded, taking a seat on a plastic container across from him.

Negan dug out the alcohol and poured a generous amount out onto your palm. You gritted your teeth together at the burn and winced. “Sorry,” he said, pressing a gauze pad down over it, holding it gently on his own hand now. “But better than an infection, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, feeling strangely on edge with your hand in his.

Negan used some of the long, clean strips of cloth to bandage it up and hold the gauze in place, tying it securely but gently before relinquishing his hold on you. “Should have the doc take a look at that when we get back,” he said. “Pretty deep. Might need some stitches on that one.”

“Yeah. Maybe. It'll probably be too late by the time we get out of here,” you said, finally sighing as you suddenly realized how tired you were. Now that you felt more secure and safe, a strange thing with Negan sitting a mere foot away from you with no dividing bars between, the adrenaline had run out. Exhaustion was starting to set in. You took stock of the space. Your eyes wandered from the door into the hidden cellar where you’d found most of the supplies, back to the corpse of the survivalist in the far corner, over to the boxes next to Negan.

He was putting the first aid stuff back into your pack when his fingers nudged something and he paused; a thick stack of glossy photos. He pulled them out, curious. On top was the first one, the one in the very first house that the two of you had talked about, but there were more along with it now—many more. He flipped through a couple until you noticed and shifted where you were sitting. His hazel eyes lifted up to your face. “These are all from today?” he asked.

You nodded and tried to clear the sudden lump in your throat.

“You kept them? All of them?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He sighed, shaking his head vaguely, and thumbed through more; families on vacations, some guy holding a big fish, a young couple smiling in front of the Statue of Liberty, babies and kids and dogs and cats, an elderly couple posing in front of a studio background.

Your voice suddenly cut into him. “Did you ever stop to think that every person you put under your bat, they probably had photos like this? Were in photos like this?” you said suddenly. A particularly loud rumble of thunder boomed and rolled, as if on cue. Your eyes, clear and steady and striking even in the low glow of the lantern, felt like they were seeing straight into his core.

He frowned. The lines on his face seemed to become more pronounced, and he almost cringed. “No,” he answered honestly, the gravel in his voice heavy and gritty. “I didn’t think about it at all, most of the time. I think that was a lot of what I was doing. Not thinking. I know that's a shit fuckin' excuse. It's not an excuse... but I didn’t—want to think about the hard stuff.”

You were curious, interested, and felt that same vulnerability he seemed to be giving you more and more rolling off him in waves. “Like what?”

He gave you a sad smile. You could hear the wind whistling above you and the pounding of the rain. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

But now you were the one to back away, ducking your head, avoiding his eyes. Negan saw that there was hurt there, deep hurt. “I don’t think we’re quite there yet,” you murmured, fiddling with the bandage on your palm. “I mean, I’m not…”

“Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Negan replied, “you don’t owe me a damn thing. But can I tell you somethin’, doll?” He hesitated for a moment. “I—I like you. You kicked the shit out of me and held a knife to my throat about ten minutes ago and I still really like you. Genuinely. As a person, as a badass, as a—”

“Negan—” you interrupted him.

“If I had to be trapped in a basement with a corpse, a tornado and a herd outside, I can’t think of another person I’d rather be stuck with,” he said.

“Negan—” you tried again.

“No, listen to me. I’m trying to tell you—”

“You don’t like me, okay? You just feel that way because I’m the only person who really talks to you, who spends time with you, who brings you your meals, and looks after some fraction of your well-being. It’s like—it’s like trauma bonding, okay? That’s all it is.”

“No. It’s not just that. See Gabe was doin’ all that same shit and I still didn’t fuckin’ like him… I mean, not as much as I like you.”

As usual, when what you were feeling was becoming overwhelming, too many thoughts, too many emotions, you deflected with humor. “I’m cuter than Gabriel.”

Negan laughed and this time the sound was warm and almost comforting. “Yeah. No argument there…”

You allowed yourself a half-smile and then sighed, rubbing your hands over your face. “Fuck, I’m tired. What a long fucking day…”

“There are those sleeping bags in one of these boxes I think,” Negan said, starting to pull at the lids.

You laughed. “I can’t sleep,” you said.

“Why not?”

“Besides the insane storm outside and the horde? Uhh… I don’t know, you?” you offered, your tone a little sardonic.

But Negan’s face was perfectly serious. “The storm and the horde—can’t do shit about those companions and I agree that they are crappy house guests, but they’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere soon from what I can hear. That’s not changing whether you’re asleep or awake. As for me—” he tilted his head and gave you an appraising look, “I do not want to hurt you. And I won’t. And I’m not running away with the dickhole party outside so, you may as well catch some shut-eye. I’ll keep watch.”

You considered him for a long moment but finally shook your head. “No. No, I can’t sleep now…”

Negan sighed and rested the fireplace poker across his knees. “Well, then I’d say it’s going to be a long night… Got any ideas about how to pass the time?”

The mischievous sparkle came back into his eyes and you shot him a stern look that was apparently not enough of a deterrent. “Don’t—”

“We still do have those sleeping bags. I can think of some activities for a makeshift bed that don’t involve actual sleep.”

“Negan, there’s literally a corpse in the corner and a horde outside and that’s where your mind goes?”

He laughed. “Can you blame me? I’ve been in jail for, how long now? Five, six years? And trust me, Gabey Baby wasn’t giving me any action.” He paused at the look on your face, laughing again. “Come on, doll. I’m just kidding. Though it would help pass the time, you deserve far better than a sleeping bag on a dirty basement floor.”

“With a dead guy watching,” you added.

“With a dead guy watching,” he repeated, scratching absently at the stubble on his face. “That is pretty fuckin’ metal though,” he smirked.

“Negan, saying that I deserve better than that is really saying nothing. Anyone deserves better than that,” you sighed, standing up and pacing. “So yeah. I’d say it’s going to be a long night.”

#bad medicine #negan smith series #negan smith #negan imagines #negan drabbles #wicked wednesday #negan smith x reader #negan smith x you #negan x y/n #negan fics #the walking dead #negan twd

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dixons-sunshine · 5 months ago

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Discovery | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Summary: While the two of you were supposed to be working on a new project for Blade, Scud had better things in mind. And those better things included a discovery that you'd most definitely use to your advantage in the future.

Warnings: Suggestive content, fingering but not really.

Word count: 584.

A/N: Dedicated to @celtic-crossbow. Hope you like this, my love ��.

The machine that had to be repaired was a forgotten memory on the table. A half-smoked joint was burning out in the ashtray next to the machine, blueprints and other papers were strayed all over the floor and the rock song that filled the air was almost completely drowned out by the loud, lewd moans that filled the air.

You and Scud were supposed to be working. You knew that. Blade would be back any minute to collect the machine Scud was working on and to get a report on the blood tests you were running to improve his serum. However, as you found yourself sat upon one of the workbenches and as Scud's lips trailed down your jaw, down to your collarbone, you couldn't care to be worried about being late with it. What was happening was way more fun, and it definitely deserved all of your attention.

“Josh,” you moaned out breathlessly, tilting your head back to allow him better access to your neck. Your mind was foggy, your only thoughts being him and how good he was making you feel at that moment. His fingers were languidly rubbing circles over your clit through the fabric of your underwear.

Scud hummed against your skin, his kisses burning a fiery trail down your neck as he began to suck at your collarbone. “Yeah? Does that feel good, Baby?” he asked you rhetorically. He knew damn well how he was making you feel. Your downright sinful, nearly pornographic moans told him all he needed to know.

You nodded frantically, your fingers running through his hair in an attempt to ground yourself back down to Earth. Scud took that as a sign to up his game. He slipped his hand into your underwear and let his finger glide through your slit. The action made you gasp. Without even really thinking about it, you lightly yanked on his hair as another moan escaped you. However, your moan was drowned out by the obscene sound that left Scud's mouth.

You looked at Scud in surprise at the sound that had escaped him. The sound bordered on both a whimper and a groan. You had never heard him make that sound before. To say you were surprised would be an understatement. And as Scud's cerulean eyes locked with your own eyes, you could clearly see that he was just as surprised about that revelation as you.

“Well shit, I'll be damned,” he laughed, his hand slipping from your underwear to rest on your thighs. “I think you just unlocked a new kink for me.”

You giggled and brushed some of the hair away from his face. “And here I thought I knew everything about you.” You cupped his cheek and caressed it lovingly. “I'm surprised I didn't do that sooner. We could've figured it out a whole lot earlier.”

Scud leaned forward and pressed a messy, tender kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he leaned into your touch, a small smile on his face. “You're gonna use this to your advantage, aren't you?”

“Oh, definitely.” You laughed. “I'm gonna overuse this piece of knowledge. Just you wait.”

You pulled him in for a fiery, hungry kiss. Scud moaned and returned the kiss with a fervor of his own. And as your hands trailed back up to his hair, he couldn't help the excitement that pooled at the pit of his stomach.

Yeah, you could use that little discovery all you wanted. He definitely didn't mind.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#scud x reader #scud fanfiction #scud blade 2 #scud frohmeyer #scud #scud frohmeyer smut #scud frohmeyer x reader #joshua fromeyer #josh frohmeyer x reader #joshua frohmeyer x reader #josh frohmeyer #blade2 #blade 2

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shootingstarwritings · 2 months ago

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Body a Day #8: Football

Coach Bryce could feel his hair turning gray as he thought about the team’s current dilemma. “It’s a real shitshow,” he sighed, looking over to gauge the reaction of his beautiful coworker, Sharon Fletcher; she was a renowed researcher at the university and the target of the coach’s heart.

Ever since the two of them had met, Coach Bryce had tried to ask her out for some kind of date, but she was either oblivious or uninterested. However, such a cold reaction only served to fuel Coach Bryce’s passion.

Today, Sharon was once again uncaring to Coach Bryce’s bemoaning. She simply unzipped her lunch-bag and pulled out her meal. Bryce spoke again, voice just a tiny bit louder so she could definitely hear, “All of my players, suspended. Can you believe it?”

Finally, Sharon’s gaze met the coach’s. “All of them? Oh wow, I knew that they had done something wrong in that party last week, but I had no idea it was something of that magnitude.”

“Yeah, well… can’t say they don’t deserve it. But we’ve got a game coming up, so we’re gonna have to just concede it,” said Coach Bryce. He inwardly smiled to himself as he saw the normally stoic Sharon’s expression squeeze into a look of genuine sympathy. At least he had that small comfort in such turbulent times.

However, Sharon’s expression quickly turned into something akin to a predatory grin. A shiver went down the coach’s spine as she began to titter. “Tell me something, Coach Bryce,” she said, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Can I trust you to keep a secret…? And also sign an NDA beforehand? I think I have a solution that’ll make both you and the Dean happy.

Coach Bryce, neck sweaty and goosebumps running down his arms, just said, “I-I’ll do whatever you want.”

~o~

The Delphi Project was the university’s pride and joy. It was also the most highly-guarded secret the university had. “Delphi was where Apollo’s oracle rested and delivered her visions of the future. It was believed to have been the center of the world by the Ancient Greeks, and…” Sharon continued the history lesson, but Coach Bryce soon stopped listening. Instead, he fumbled around with the buttons of the uncomfortable lab coat he had been given prior to entering. Not only that but the goggles were annoying as well.

“Please do not remove that,” said Sharon with a tight tone and a forced smile. “Lab policies, as I’m sure you’re aware. Right, coach?” Embarrassed, Coach Bryce gave a grunt of affirmation, and Sharon continued the tour. She continued to speak some nonsense or another before stopping in front of a large machine with two pods that resembled tanning booths connected to it. “The Delphi Project concerns itself primarily with human consciousness. Essentially, it is the next step to reaching the digitization and transfer of ‘the soul.’ Some of us here even believe that this is how humanity can reach this place called ‘Paradise,’ or ‘Nirvana.’”

“Oh yeah, heard of their music once or twice," said Coach Bryce, enthusiastic now that he could participate in the discussion. "Dunno if it’s my cup o’ Joe, to be honest, but to each their own!” he said with boisterous laughter.

Sharon’s smile seemed to grow even tighter and her voice became the tiniest bit more strained as she spoke. “Right. Well, as I was saying, the purpose of this machine is the transfer of consciousness. While we have been able to digitize and transfer the human consciousness—the soul, as some would call it—we haven’t been able to find any sort of machine with the space large enough to store it. Nothing… except for another human vessel.”

In other words, the only thing that could be transferred is one person to another. It took a few more explanations for Coach Bryce to understand that, but he got the basic idea. Once he understood that, he could guess what was Sharon’s plan.

“So what you want to do is transfer other people into the bodies of my team, so technically we can still play while still punishing the knuckleheads.” Technical or scientific knowledge wasn’t his forte, but his mind was still crafty and strategic. Once he understood all the pieces on the table, he could put them all together quickly. “Will the Dean even agree to this? Seems… kinda risky. And will my players be okay once this is all over?”

Sharon smile sweetly and assured him that all tests have shown that both parties have suffered no side-effects from the experiments they’ve done. “However, if there is even a single dissenting voice, we will not go through with the experiment. That last thing we would want to do is carry this out without anyone’s explicit consent. We are strict with ethics here. As for the Dean, I believe I can convince her. Delphi is our pride and joy, even if we can’t be out and proud about it. Of course, there is one more caveat to this whole thing you must agree to, coach.”

~o~

To say that the players were shocked and horrified would be an understatement. Coach Bryce gathered them all in the locker room to break the news, which only made their voices even more irritating as they echoed in the small room. Some of the players cried foul, others argued that his was invasive to their rights, while a few let out a few swears about letting a bunch of losers parade around in their bodies. “All right, that’s enough!” Coach Bryce shouted. “I know it’s a weird prospect, but if we want even the slightest chance of making play-offs, we can’t afford to forfeit this next game.”

As always, it was easy for the coach to rile up his players. None of them dared to argue when Coach Bryce brought up the incident that put them in this Catch-22. “And, if I’m being honest… I’ll be in the same boat as y’all,” he said, looking down to avoid his team’s shocked looks as he recounted what Sharon had told him.

“Day of the game, I’ll have to borrow your body in order to properly observe the test subjects during our most important trial run. Don’t worry, you’ll only lose your body for a weekend, at most,” Sharon had said with a most bewitching smile.

Thinking about her tone and voice as she said all of that, Coach Bryce couldn’t help but grow the slightest bit aroused. He hoped that none of his players could see how flushed he was recalling that night. Of course, he also omitted that last part—there was no need for the team to know how uneven the whole deal actually was.

“Even after all of this, we’re still a team!” Coach Bryce suddenly cried out. Not only did he need to convince those last few fence-sitters, but he also needed to distract himself before he got hard in front of all the players. He hadn’t been able to get off properly ever since a messy break-up with his former girlfriend, so Sharon’s siren voice kept bouncing around his skull.

A nice speech would be a good distraction for now. He continued to bellow out platitudes about staying together and how they were all in one boat at the end of the day. “So, please consider. This may be our chance to not throw away everything we’ve worked all semester for. Think about it. Later… we’ll put it to a vote. If we come to a unanimous vote, we’ll go through with it. So if anyone feels uncomfortable, we’ll decline and throw the match.” He retreated back to his office and took a deep breath. Already, there was a plan forming in his head.

When Coach Bryce returned to take the vote, he made sure that the votes could not be anonymous. Just by glancing at the expressions on the players’ faces, he could tell that the majority was willing to go through with it, but there were a few sparse dissenters spread throughout the crowd. However, when he asked, “All in favor?” everyone raised their hands. The peer pressure assured that their fate was sealed. Coach Bryce nodded and told the team that he’d email them Sharon’s instructions.

Later that night, Coach Bryce jerked himself off as he imagined the idea of Sharon being inside of him.

~o~

Game night came and went, and nobody in the audience nor the opposing team suspected any foul play. All the players performed as well as they usually did, baring a minor hiccup or two. The only anomaly that anyone noticed was Coach Bryce, usually watching with a red-face and barking orders at the team, was perfectly stone-faced the entire match, even when the team just barely clutched out a win.

Later, Dr. Sharon Fletcher looked down Bryce’s thick, hairy hands. Due to the various tests they’ve run with Delphi, being a male wasn’t new to her, but she was still surprised by just how masculine the coach was. “Ah, I got distracted again,” she said to herself as she returned to the report on her laptop. It was difficult to type at the speeds she was comfortable with, but that was the price to pay for valuable data at such a close distance.

“Overall, subjects found themselves quickly adapting to their new forms, which supports to the hypothesis that muscle memory is one of the most important factors during learning. It’s possible that…” Coach Bryce’s thick, masculine fingers stopped and stared at the screen. It was one of Sharon’s most frustrating part of being a scientist. She loved getting her hands on interesting data and interpreting it, but it was when she had to stop and write down her thoughts that she found herself unable to commit for long periods of time. “This will revolutionize the field of learning, but…” She let out a sigh before packing up her laptop to leave. Coach Bryce’s office, with all of its football posters, brights flags, and pictures was not the ideal environment to sit down and type out her reports. She would continue in the library tomorrow. With that settled, she left the office and began the trek to her home for the weekend.

Just before Sharon transferred into Bryce’s body, he had given her a copy of the key to his apartment. “It’d be odd if they saw my entering and leaving your home,” he had told her. Well, he had elaborated on the point for quite a while, Sharon hadn’t been interested in his hearing his logic. Her thoughts then and even now were, Why bother caring about who sees you spending time with you? It was nothing to do with how well you can do your job.

Either way, Sharon took the bus to and allowed his muscular legs to carry her to Bryce’s apartment. She thought about it as another opportunity to further her research, but there was something so fascinating about just moving about with Coach Bryce. His natural, mature gait was addicting. Just for research’s sake (her own fun), she continued to walk around the hallways and even up the stairs, forgoing the elevator. Even after climbing several stories, she didn’t even feel the least bit tired. In her old body, she would’ve been halfway dead and anemic by the time she reached Bryce’s apartment, but now she was hardly out of breath. Fascinating, she thought to herself, mistaking her lust for curiosity.

Without thinking, Sharon made her way to Bryce’s apartment and began to shed off his clothes until her borrowed body was clad in nothing but a shirt and a pair of boxers. Oh, huh… I hadn’t meant to take off so much of his clothes, she thought to herself, but her body had moved without her knowledge. Still, Sharon saw no reason to not allow it to continue. It was better to allow the body to continue its natural habits.

It was for that reason that, after drawing a bath, Sharon dipped Coach Bryce’s into the bathtub and relaxed his sore muscles. “Phew… oh, this feels so nice,” said Sharon. After such a long day of experiment, research, and overworking herself, it was nice to relax in a bath. If she could, she would spend all day in a bath and enjoy this nice, burly body. She raised his arms and rested them behind his head, apparently a natural position for the coach to be in with a bath. With soap and a loofah sponge, Sharon explored Bryce’s body. His personality wasn’t anything special, but she enjoyed the way that his body moved whenever he worked out in the gym or in the field outside in the lawn. The sweat dripping from his bearded chin was nice. Usually, Sharon wasn’t really interested in dating men, but their bodies were nice to look at.

And, as she groped and massaged various parts of Bryce’s body, Sharon realized just how nice it was to touch them like this. “Ohh… ohh…! Oh my god!” Somehow, this was the most sensitive body she had ever transferred into. Was the coach simply that much more sensitive than the other hosts, or was the process itself magnifying the sensitivity to touch? Sharon’s scientific mind was going on overdrive while just about every part of her was busy indulging in Coach Bryce’s appealing and overly sexual body. “C-Coach Bryce, y-you’re so… ngh… ahh…!” The moans that escaped his lips drove Sharon insane as well. It became a feedback loop: Sharon, hoping to draw out more data and more moans from Coach Bryce groped his body, which only drew out more automatic moans from her borrowed lungs.

It was also the strength and the sheer amount of command that Sharon had. The thick, almost sausage-like, fingers and powerful core and moved at her command. Coach Bryce was like a glove for her to put on, nothing more. The power behind it was intoxicated. Each muscle obeyed Sharon, and it was because she deserved it.

Coach Bryce’s body stiffened as it felt the inevitable happen. The waves of pleasure that nearly threaten to shatter her very mind. Sharon grit her borrowed teeth, groans of guttural and masculine ecstasy only just barely restrained for the first few torrents of cum that launched high into the air. However, Sharon could not contain it for much longer. She tilted her head back, tongue sticking out as Coach Bryce’s hips thrust on their own as the last of the world-shattering climax erupted through the jiggling, hairy frame.

This is the first time I’ve ever masturbated with such intensity, Sharon thought to herself. She had explored the other test subjects—other professors and coaches at the univerity—and Coach Bryce was definitely her favorite. She had to test out just how and why his body was so sensitive. Yes, she needed more tests. She needed to take over the bodies of all her previous test subjects and continue to explore and compare the pleasure that came from each of them. Only then would her hunger for pleasure and data—two things that were basically the same to her—would be satiated.

Of course, that should be easy to accomplish. Just about every person in campus owes me a favor, and the Dean will certainly enjoy this delicious data—especially if I record it all for her. I wonder how much freedom I can have if I offer to give the Dean such an opportunity? I’m sure she’ll love it now that we know it’s perfectly safe.

Sharon sighed and sank even further into the warm, now slightly milkier, water. Her new muscles certainly seemed to enjoy the sensation. Now all she had to do was to just enjoy the weekend in the perfect body for it.

#male possession #male body possession #body a day

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alltheirdamn · 9 months ago

Text

Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 2: See me

Chap 2. Summary: To be loved is to be seen. You're slowly learning that Joel sees you a lot more than you realize. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for future smut) Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, no smut (yet...pls be patient), tension, banter, a fuck ton of angst, mutual pining, language... I think that's it this go around? A/N: trust me, we're building up to the good stuff. I'm just enjoying developing Joel and the reader a bit more, so pls hang tight. It's all coming soon, I promise.

Masterlist

It had been two weeks since you had last seen Joel. You managed to get through the first round of tests and projects for each of your classes, but as the midterms slowly approached, you began to notice a shift in your students—specifically, Sarah. It wasn’t noticeable at first; she was still chatty with her friends, but her grades were slipping. Then, it became her grades and mood. During lessons, you’d catch her staring out the window blankly or doodling dismissively on the margins of her notebook when you were running through the guidelines for the midterms. She lingered longer after the school bell, choosing not to leave with her friends. After a particularly dull day of presentations, you decided to pull her aside after class. Sarah was reluctant to stay, but you reassured her she wasn’t in trouble.

“I’ve noticed you’re a bit off lately, Sarah,” you said, leaning against the edge of your desk.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” she shrugged.

She wouldn’t meet your eyes, and you noticed her shifting her weight between her legs the longer she stood in the empty room with you. You feared something was happening at home with Joel, but you didn’t want to explore that topic with your twelve-year-old student. Instead, you gave her a soft smile and tried a different approach.

“I know you’re on the soccer team. Has that been tiring you out?” You asked.

“I mean, I guess so.”

“When’s your first game?” You were really trying now.

Sarah tightened her fingers around the straps of her backpack, staring at the floor.

“This Saturday,” she mumbled.

“Are you excited? I’m sure your dad can’t wait to cheer you on!”

There it was—the breaking point.

She looked up at you through blurry eyes, biting her lip to stop from crying. You immediately regretted bringing up Joel. You had overstepped a boundary, and you were paying the price. Dipping your head to meet her at eye level, you placed both hands on her shoulders, trying to comfort her the best you could.

“Oh, honey,” you sighed. “I’m sorry. Is that what’s been upsetting you?”

She nodded, sniffling back the tears.

“He’s always working,” she explained. “I don’t really think he’ll make time to come watch me play.”

“I bet he wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you assured her.

“Yeah,” she said, wiping away a stray tear.

You watched the defeat etch itself into her features, the deep frown across her face, the brightness in her eyes dwindling. You wanted to believe Joel was a good dad, and you had no doubt he was trying his hardest, but that clearly wasn’t enough. Tipping your fingers under her chin, you coaxed her eyes to meet yours.

“Look, how about I go?” You offered. “I know I’m not the person you want to see on the sidelines, but I would love to watch you play.”

“Really?” She asked, her eyes growing wide.

“Really,” you promised.

Your words seemed to have soothed a bit of the ache inside of her, and she left the classroom with a smile growing on her face. If Joel wouldn’t show up for her, then you would. She deserved someone cheering her on; she deserved to be happy.

Whoever decided to schedule soccer games at eight AM on a Saturday was cruel, but regardless, you threw on some leggings and a sweater and made your way to the school soccer fields. The parking lot was littered with minivans and families walking with lawn chairs tucked under their arms, their coolers filled with juice pouches and snacks dragging behind them. Obviously, you were uncultured in the sports world and came without a chair or blanket…or anything. So, you opted to stand behind the line of parents on the field, swaying under the morning breeze as you watched the kids chase the ball across the field.

Your eyes never left Sarah while she was on the field; her bouncy curls and lean figure were easy to spot among the other players. She was quick when given the ball, dodging the opponents as she neared the net. There were only three minutes left in the first half of the game, and she had possession of the ball, weaving in and out of the players tracking her moves. You held your breath as she ran closer to the net, the ball easily controlled under her feet. An opponent was gaining on her, trying to kick the ball away, but Sarah did a little twirl and evaded them perfectly to shoot the game's first point. You were cheering and clapping loudly with the other parents on the sideline, watching her teammates swarm her with hugs. But as the cheering died out, you were left with this profound sadness that her dad wasn’t here to see her first goal.

You let that bitterness grow inside you as you watched the remainder of the game.

When the final whistle blew, the team won 1-0, with Sarah being the game's star player. With a sheen of sweat over her forehead and a juice pouch in hand, Sarah skipped over to you with a bright smile.

“Great job!” You cheered, welcoming her into a warm embrace.

She squeezed her arms around your torso, babbling off a slew of ‘thank you’s.’ You put aside your anger towards Joel as you grounded yourself in the moment. Sarah deserved this celebration, and you would happily give her every bit of attention you could.

“Do you need a ride home, honey?” You asked, pulling away from the hug.

Sarah’s cheery exterior faltered as she looked around at the families embracing their children. You knew where her mind was going. Looking around, she nodded slowly, clutching her drink tightly.

“My friend’s parents took me here, but I think they’re going out to lunch. I was hoping my dad would be here, but…” She trailed off.

“I’m happy to take you home, Sarah. Want some food for the drive home?” You offered.

That bright smile was back as she happily agreed, following you back to your car.

Both you and Sarah were munching on fries and singing along to pop tunes when you finally parked in front of her house. To your detriment, Joel’s truck was parked in the driveway. Sarah timidly looked between you and the truck as she gathered her sports bag and soda cup, thanking you again for the day spent together. You gave her the best fake smile you could conjure up and watched her head to the front door.

You sat in front of the driveway for an extra few minutes, debating whether you should confront Joel, but before you could even decide, he was walking down the front porch and towards your car. That bitterness and anger you had suppressed all day surged forward, and you jumped out of the car to face him with a frown drawn on your face.

Joel greeted you with your name falling off his tongue, and you didn’t have time to register the beautiful way it sounded in his Southern accent before you began spewing a litany of remarks about how you felt.

“Why weren’t you there?” You shouted, your body at arm's length from his. You needed to distance yourself from him, too afraid that your anger would send a hand flying across his face. You had to remind yourself that he was Sarah’s dad and you were her teacher, but that wouldn’t stop you from speaking your mind.

Joel looked at you with a furrow of confusion and guilt, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. It was apparent he regretted missing the game, but that didn’t matter. Saying sorry wouldn’t turn back the clock and magically make everything better. You knew that firsthand.

“Tommy and I had an early meetin’ with a contractor,” he explained. “Trust me, I hate that I missed the game.”

“You didn’t just miss the game. You missed her first goal,” you snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rocking his heels. “I appreciate you takin’ the time to go and watch her play. And drivin’ her home… and gettin’ her lunch.”

“I did everything you should have done,” you accused.

Joel swallowed thickly, his eyes settling on yours with a wave of sadness passing through his irises. Those big puppy dog eyes wouldn’t soothe the anger steamrolling over your professionalism. Fuck being professional. Sarah deserved a dad who was present, and if no one were going to call him out on his bullshit, you’d do it.

“I feel real shitty ‘bout it,” he sighed. “You ain’t gotta remind me.”

“You should feel shitty. She’s your daughter. I shouldn’t have to be the only one cheering for her on the sidelines. Nothing should be more important than that.”

“Would you quit lecturin’ me?” Joel barked. “I know I fucked up, and I already apologized to her. Again, I appreciate you takin’ the time to be there for her, and I’m real sorry for makin’ you do that.”

You huffed a laugh, folding your arms over your chest.

“You didn’t make me do anything,” you argued. “I wanted to be there for her, but she wanted you to be there for her.”

Joel said nothing at that, only stared at you in stunned silence. You were done with him, letting your anger get the best of you.

“I know what it feels like when the one person you want to see doesn’t show up. I know that disappointment. Have a great day, Mr. Miller. Tell Sarah I’ll see her on Monday.”

You spun on your heel toward your car, flinging the door open with more force than you wanted. You shouldn’t have brought your past into it; Joel was nothing like Bennette, but it hurt all the same.

Joel didn’t try to stop you as you drove out of the neighborhood, but he remained at the curb of his driveway, his eyes never leaving you until you were out of view.

You barely managed to put your car in park before you broke down in tears. Everything was crashing at the surface, and you didn’t have the strength to bottle it away this time. Bennett had been your entire world for five years. Your whole life revolved around him, from going to the same grad school together to moving away from Boston to be with him in his new career. You left everything behind for him and were happy to do it because you loved him. Despite his flaws and the “not-so-picture perfect” relationship, you stayed because you loved him. And in that moment when you needed him to be there for you… he was gone. You weren’t lying to Joel when you said you knew what that disappointment felt like; it was that same feeling that kept you up at night when you wondered if you had done something to deserve it. But Sarah? Sarah did nothing to deserve to be abandoned by her dad. All she wanted was to see that one person cheering her on from the sidelines, to hug her and tell her she was loved.

She didn’t get that today.

And you didn’t get that two years ago.

With whatever dignity you had left, you dragged yourself inside and into your bedroom, flinging yourself onto the mattress. Curling into a ball on top of the comforter, you let the tears continue to fall as you stared at the empty walls where the pictures of you and Bennett had hung before. Every inch of this house was a reminder of the scars Bennett left on your heart. You could have moved out months ago, you could have gone home, but what was the use when the pain would just travel with you? Shutting your eyes, you let the emotions exhaust you until you drifted asleep.

“Bennett, I told you what time the cake tasting was scheduled for,” you shouted across the kitchen.

Bennett wasn’t even listening as he responded to a thread of emails on his computer. The law firm he had been working at kept him on a short leash, always requiring him to be there at their beck and call. Between you and his job, his loyalty was in the latter.

“I know,” he nodded, still glued to the computer screen. “They needed a proxy for the shareholder meeting and asked me to step in.”

“We’ve had this scheduled for weeks now. You can’t expect me to make all these decisions alone.”

“Whatever cake you choose, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he shrugged.

“That's not the point!” You yelled, slamming down the Tupperware you had been scrubbing.

That caught his attention. Slamming the laptop shut, Bennett’s nostrils flared at your sudden outburst. You weren’t usually this outspoken; you were always the level-headed and obedient fiancé he expected to have. But the entire engagement had been a disaster, between work conflicts and the constant pressure he put on you. Every day, he expected to come home to a fresh meal, never considering that your job didn’t end when three PM hit. Being a teacher meant your responsibilities began at home, when you were hunched over curating the next lesson and grading papers. You never complained about his workload extending into the evening, either. God forbid you ask for more time together.

“What is the point?” He snapped.

“The point is that I want you there. I want you to be a part of this wedding planning process. All I’m asking for is two hours together, where we eat too much sugar and choose a damn cake flavor. It’s not even about the fucking cake, Bennett. It’s about you being present in this engagement.”

“Are you saying I’m not present?” He accused. “Because I have been as present as possible despite me working so hard to fund this big wedding that you wanted!”

“I just want you there with me for these things. Even if they aren’t important to you, it’s important to me,” you said, your energy dwindling. He always found a way to make you feel bad, and you looked past it for the sake of your heart. You loved him and did everything you could to make him love you in return. If that meant placating your feelings, you’d do it.

“If it’s so important to you, then just go. You can tell me all about it when I get home tomorrow.”

That was the best resolution you’d get, and there was no use fighting anymore. He would always win.

“Okay,” you acquiesced. “I’ll do that.”

Bennett rose from his chair and met you around the kitchen counter with a big hug. He rested his chin on your head as you melted into his chest.

“I love you, honey. I don’t want you angry at me all the time. You know I’m trying my hardest to be everywhere all at once. Just work with me, okay?” he sighed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be better about it. I love you, too,” you whispered.

A firm knock on your front door jolted you awake from the flood of memories in your dreams. The shadows in your room were a telltale sign you had slept through most of the afternoon, which would put a hefty dent in the list of never-ending work you needed to finish. Sulking through the house to the front door, you smoothed down your hair and sweater, trying to gather your bearings. With one last heavy inhale, you pried the door open and stood paralyzed at the person standing before you.

Joel said your name softly, his eyes tired and hair ruffled at the crown of his head. He looked as just a mess as you did, but most definitely for different reasons.

“Mr. Miller,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

He swayed back on his heels, holding your eyes apologetically. It was written all over his face; he didn’t need to say the words.

“Our conversation earlier ain’t sittin’ right with me,” he sighed.

“I overstepped, and I’m sorry,” you said honestly. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

Joel held his hand in protest, shaking his head at your words.

“Don’t apologize, okay? You were right about everything. I shoulda been there, and I wasn’t. I let her down.”

“Mr. Miller, I—.”

“I let her down,” he repeated. “And I let you down.”

You stood in stunned silence, trying to understand his words. Joel watched you turn the words over in your head, his eyes never leaving yours. He said everything you had ever asked to hear from Bennett in just a few words. You didn’t understand the emotions stirring inside you, nor could you control the tears welling in your eyes. This would be the second time you cried today, and now it would be the second time you cried in front of Joel.

“You didn’t let me down,” you faltered.

“I did. I want you to see that I’m not a bad father, but I seem to keep makin’ mistakes left and right. She expected me to be there, and so did you. I’m the type of man who makes and keeps his promises, but lately, I’ve been fallin’ short. It ain’t fair to her, and it ain’t fair to you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you whispered, wiping your tears.

“I sure as hell do,” he protested. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry, okay? I’m gonna do better about bein’ there for her, and I want you to see that. I don’t wanna keep fuckin’ it all up.”

“Did you tell her that?” You asked.

“I did, and now I’m tellin’ you. I want you holdin’ me accountable on all this, and I want you to call me out on my bullshit like you did earlier. I needed to hear all that.”

“I was just angry. I didn’t need to be that mean to you.”

Joel lifted his hand to brush away a stray tear falling down your cheek, the touch of his hand on your skin electrifying you. You flinched away, trying to curl into yourself. He noticed your movements, letting his hand fall back to his side. You glanced down, watching him clench his hand into a fist as if he were trying to control an urge inside of him. You were trying to do the same; being near him scared you. It shocked you to see someone act mature and actually own up to their faults; it was something Bennett rarely did. You couldn’t make sense of it.

“There ain’t a single part of me that’s mad at you, okay? Don’t ever be afraid to speak your mind—at least not with me,” Joel said.

You only nodded, too afraid that if you spoke now, you’d succumb to an ugly sob. Joel’s broad frame was shadowed and looming over you in the dying sunlight, a cloud over the haze inside your mind. Joel didn’t understand the weight in those words, the way they sewed shut the empty holes left inside you. It wasn’t Bennett saying them, and it definitely didn’t rewrite the past, but it was writing the future. It was a future with the possibility that you weren’t as broken as you thought.

“Thank you,” you muttered. “I—just thank you.”

“Somethin’ tells me you ain’t been told these things before, huh?” Joel prodded.

“It doesn’t matter. I appreciate you taking the time to come out here, and I’m sorry again. I promise I’ll be better about my anger,” you laughed, hoping you’d be able to brush it off with a forced smile.

Joel saw right through you; his lips tugged down into a frown. You watched the crease between his eyebrows appear as he watched you minimize yourself right back down to zero. It wasn’t easier that way—making yourself small. Too big, and you’d be too much to handle. You were tired of being too much for anyone; it had already been your downfall once before.

“Whoever made you feel like y’need to apologize all the time is a real piece of shit,” Joel huffed.

“It’s alright, Mr. Miller. Thank you again for stopping by.”

“It’s the least I could do. And y’know what? I’d be happy if you joined me at the rest of her games. She loved havin’ you there, and I know it would mean a lot to her to see you on the sidelines again. Think that’s somethin’ you’d interested in?”

“I’ll think about it, yeah,” you smiled.

“Yeah? Good,” he exhaled.

Joel met you with a genuine smile, his eyes dancing over your face. You swayed in the doorway, unsure of what to do now that the conversation was coming to an end. A strange part of you didn’t want it to end; the stillness with him had managed to bottle away all of the lingering memories of Bennett, even if only for a moment. You’d take this over, crying yourself asleep like so often did.

“You should head home to Sarah,” you sighed. “I hope you have a good weekend, Mr. Miller.”

“You have a g’night, alright?”

You watched him walk down the porch steps, the muscles in his back tense as he retreated back to his truck. You should have walked your ass back inside, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Before opening the truck door, Joel glanced back at you, waving a quick goodbye. You waved back and waited until his truck dissolved into the distance to finally shut your door and sit in the blaring silence.

You watched the night fade away from the comfort of your couch, a half-eaten sandwich in front of you and a wine glass in hand. Not only did you overstep your boundaries as a teacher, but you overstepped every possible rule between a teacher and parent. Despite what happened at the bar with Joel, he was still Sarah’s dad and completely undeserving of the anger you had toward him today. He was slipping behind every brick wall you had built up around you, a fortress no one could penetrate, yet he was managing to do it so effortlessly. And it was infuriating. How were you supposed to protect yourself from him? Bennett had been the perfect man at the start, always saying the right things and showing his love in so many different ways, but even with the rose-colored glasses on, that all crumpled away as time moved on. Nothing about your relationship was perfect, yet you tried to mend the broken pieces in hopes the possibility of marriage would solve all your problems. But clearly, it didn’t. It never even made it to marriage.

You weren’t even considering dating Joel, but that didn’t stop you from doubting he would be any different than Bennett. Sure, he might seem interested now, but that would change once he saw every damaged piece of you. You were hardly controlling your emotions, as it were, so why would you spend the time sharing the rawest parts of yourself with someone who would end up leaving?

I’ll do better, you told yourself. Bottle it away.

Another week passed by without fuss; the students passed their practice exams and had even begun working on their group presentations on the new poetry unit you had created. After next week's midterm exams, you’d be on a plane heading to Boston to see your family during the fall break. You hadn’t been home in over a year, and you were well aware of the fact your parents and sisters missed you. It’s not that you didn’t miss them, but going home was another reminder of all you had lost. But you’d steer clear of the roads you’d traveled down with Bennett, you’d avoid the bars and restaurants he had taken you to, and you’d absolutely banish all thoughts of returning to the Public Garden where he had proposed. Every corner of your hometown was haunted by the ghosts of what had been, but you’d brave it for the sake of family.

You had forfeited any thought of going to the soccer game out of sheer self-preservation. Being around Joel more than necessary was putting you at risk for an inevitable heartbreak, and it just wasn’t something you were ready to deal with. You didn’t want to let Sarah down, but Joel would be there for her, and that mattered more than you standing on the sidelines. She didn’t need you there; you’d only gone to the game to fill a void within her life. Joel was going to stick to his word, and you’d be able to maintain your teacher-parent relationship once again. You still had yet to forgive yourself for Saturday’s outburst.

It wasn’t until Thursday when Sarah approached you, that you were reminded of the game.

When she approached your desk at the end of class, she had her textbook in hand and her backpack slung over her shoulder. You were feeling particularly drained from the day after spending most of the night tossing and turning between nightmares, and you had to muster up the strength to keep things light between you and her.

“So,” she started, a bright smile plastered on her face. “My dad said you might come to the game Saturday.”

“Oh, yeah. I—I haven’t decided yet. I’ve got to make sure everything is prepped for testing next week,” you lied.

“Oh,” her face fell. “That’s okay. I know the exams are important.”

Fuck.

You were transported right back to the kitchen with Bennett.

“I’m sure the prep work can wait till after the game,” you smiled, already giving up on your initial plans to avoid everything—everything being Joel Miller.

“If you don’t want to come…” Sarah trailed off, looking down at her sneakers.

“Hey,” you said softly. Her eyes traveled up to meet yours again. “I’ll be there. You have my word.”

Sarah perked up, nodding her head enthusiastically.

“I’ll tell my dad! Maybe we can all get lunch after!” She babbled excitedly.

Oh, Christ.

“I’m sure you guys will want the day together,” you smiled, your patient wearing. “Go enjoy your night, Sarah. I’ll see you tomorrow in class. Don’t forget your notes on Shakespeare!”

“Bye, Miss Smith!”

You watched her sprint out of the room to catch up with her friends, and you sunk into your chair, dreading what may come during the weekend.

Maria stopped by your classroom after the final bell, skeptically looking at you while you gathered your work bag. Thankfully, you both had Thursdays free of crosswalk duty, and you were ready to get home and sulk away under the guise of cheap wine and a bubble bath.

“You’re extra grumpy today,” Maria noted, slinging her large purse over one shoulder.

“I’m not grumpy,” you huffed. “I’m fucked. Completely fucked.”

She barked a laugh and watched you stuff files into your bag before you grabbed your keys and shooed her out to lock the door. The hallways were empty, except for a few teachers trickling out, and you walked a pace quicker, trying to escape the building before anyone else stopped you.

“Why do I get a feeling this may be because of a certain parent?” She asked, shoving into you playfully.

“Yes,” you grumbled.

“Explain!”

“Ugh, okay. Listen, all of this is against my own will, okay?”

You peered over at her, seeing a wicked smile splitting across her face. If anyone was on board with your confused emotions towards Joel Miller, it was Maria. She had been all for it since day one, and you knew she wouldn’t shut up about it until she saw you and him together. Which wouldn’t be happening.

You dive into retelling the events of Saturday, including the outburst and the conversation with Joel that had followed. All through your rambling, Maria was squealing like a little girl and inserting small remarks here and there—all of which revolved around the idea that you should fuck out your feelings and get it over with.

“Maria,” you snapped. “I’m not going to fuck him! Would you quit that?”

She shrugged, laughing off your stubbornness.

“All I’m saying is that there is clearly some sort of chemistry between you both,” she sassed. “One night of hot sex might clear your mind, and you can resume your up-tight ‘teacher-parent’ bullshit you’re trying so hard to keep.”

“It’s not bullshit, Maria,” you argued. “It’s called being professional.”

You both had made it to the parking lot, and you tried to inch closer to your car in hopes of coming out unscathed from this conversation. But Maria was anything but relentless.

“You really need to get laid,” Maria huffed. “Dust off the cobwebs and get back out there.”

“I’m perfectly fine with how my life is right now. I don’t need to get laid, and I certainly don’t need to be in a relationship.”

Maria grabbed your hands in hers, leveling you with a stern look under her thick mascara-coated lashes. With her lips set in a firm line, she squeezed your hands.

“It’s been two years,” she sighed. “Stop letting Bennett control your life. He’s in the past, and you need to find a new future—preferably one where you’re happy and in love.”

You squeezed her fingers in return, giving her a sad smile. You knew somewhere inside you that she was right, but it wasn’t in the cards for you right now. Not when you still had so much healing to do.

“Thank you, Maria,” you whispered.

When you arrived at the school, the soccer game had already begun. Your car sat idle in the parking lot for nearly twenty minutes until you finally found the strength to head toward the soccer fields. Among the line of parents on the sidelines, Joel was standing further away, his body swaying against the windy morning as his eyes stay focused on the field. You walked up slowly, smoothing out your t-shirt and running sweaty palms over your jeans. You definitely didn’t spend too much time getting ready for a simple game. As if he felt your energy circling him, Joel turned toward you with a beautiful smile breaking across his face.

“I was hopin’ you’d show up,” he said.

“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” you greeted.

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself beside him, so you mimicked his stance and folded your arms over your chest. With the morning sun rising above the soccer field, you watched as his skin glowed in the sunlight, his tanned skin illuminated in the soft hues of the sunrise. He was undeniably gorgeous, but you forced that thought away along with all of the unruly ones that seemed to constantly evade your mind.

“Sarah’s doin’ great out there so far,” he mentioned. “Got herself close to scorin’ a goal ten minutes ago. No doubt she’ll get one at some point.”

“I bet she will. She’s amazing out there.”

Joel beamed at your compliments of his daughter, his eyes tracking her as she ran across the field. A teammate shot the ball to her, and you both stood silently as she kept control of it toward the goal. Instead of taking the shot herself, she crossed the ball to another teammate, letting them score the first goal of the game. The parents on the sidelines sounded off with a round of cheers, and you and Joel joined in on the excitement.

“She’s a team player,” you commented. “That’s a good quality.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled proudly.

This. This is what you had hoped to see for Sarah. A dad who was present and proud of her accomplishments. You could give her all the applause in the world, but his voice cheering above the rest was what mattered the most.

There was a lull in conversation for a while as you both watched the game with rapt attention. You tried hard not to notice the way Joel shifted closer to you or the fact that he had dropped his arms so that he could casually brush his against yours. Each touch of his skin against yours was like a wave of heat rushing through your body, an electric current that started with him and ended with you. There was no doubt he did it on purpose, but you did nothing to stop it. You were losing the war between self-restraint and vulnerability.

“How’s she likin’ class?” He asked, making small talk.

You shrugged, glancing at him with an easy smile.

“She’s one of the best kids in her grade. This new unit we’re working on will be a challenge, but I know she’s up for it.”

“What’s the new unit?”

“Poetry.”

Joel snorted a laugh, his fingers brushing against the denim on your leg. You shifted to glare at him, amused at his response.

“What’s so funny, Mr. Miller?”

He ran a hand through the curls atop his head, giving you a lopsided grin.

“Nothin’,” he chuckled. “Just don’t understand why poetry is so popular in schools nowadays.”

“Poetry has always been popular,” you said pointedly.

“Has it? Must not have paid much attention back in the day,” he smirked.

“It’s my favorite unit to teach,” you confessed. “I think poetry gets a bad rap—clearly—but it’s important to understand the way words can convey so many layered emotions in the simplest of ways.”

Joel eyed you as you spoke, nodding along with you as you spoke. Even if he wasn’t completely sold on the idea of poetry, you enjoyed how attentive he was to the conversation. In the distance, you heard the parents cheer again, and you glanced at the field to see Sarah running with the ball toward the goal.

“Look!” You said, pointing toward the field.

Joel snapped his head back to his daughter, watching as she sent the ball soaring into the net. You jumped up and down, clapping at her goal and yelling out her name in excitement.

“That’s my girl!” Joel cheered. “Way to go, Sarah!”

Sarah looked over at him, her cheeks rosy from the play, and shot him two thumbs up. Joel returned the same hand gesture; his cheeks stretched wide with a smile as he watched his daughter dance into an embrace from her teammate.

“You were sayin’,” he pressed, his eyes sliding back to you.

“Oh,” you laughed. “That’s okay. I don’t want to bore you with all the school talk.”

“You ain’t borin’ me. I wanna hear what you have to say.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, realizing he wasn’t just asking these things to make small talk. He sincerely wanted to know the things you were interested in and the work you did, which was far from what you received from Bennett. Half the time you talked about your lessons, Bennett would just aimlessly nod while typing his emails and debriefs, his attention far away from you.

“Well, I’m starting off by teaching them about Shakespeare,” you explained, watching Joel open his mouth to make a retort. You held your hand up in defense and continued. “Before you go complaining about Shakespeare, I’ll have you know he’s one of the most renowned dramatists in history. His stylist choices in his playwrights were unlike anything else, and his work has completely impacted modern-day English. It’s because of him that we have so many words and phrases in the English language. Say what you want, but he really is worth learning about.”

Joel studied you for a moment, his lips curving up at the corners. You weren’t used to rambling off about useless things, more because you never really had the chance in the past. It was exciting to talk about the things you were passionate about, and you didn’t realize you’d find that moment being with Joel Miller.

“Maybe I need to read some of his work,” Joel said. “What’s your favorite?”

“My favorite?” You blinked at him. “Oh, um, it’s cliche, but my favorite is Romeo and Juliet. That’s what I’m starting with on the unit.”

“Sarah got a copy of it?” he asked.

“She should, yes.”

“Might need to steal it from her so I can see what all this fuss is about,” he smiled, bumping his arm into yours.

“You don’t need to do all that,” you muttered. “I’m sure Sarah could tell you all about it after she’s done reading it.”

“I’m sure she could,” he acknowledged. “But maybe I'd like to do the research.”

“Research?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Joel leaned into you, his face drawn closer to yours.

“Yeah, research,” he repeated. “I wanna know why y’like it so much.”

Your mouth opened and closed, all words seemingly melting from your brain. What the hell were you supposed to say to that? He wanted to take the time to understand your interests… but why? Once again, Joel was proving to be everything you never saw in Bennett. And it scared the fuck out of you. Because you couldn’t date Joel, nor did you want to. Giving yourself up to another person, exposing those vulnerable parts of yourself like that would just be inviting the possibility of another heartbreak.

“I can save you the time and tell you instead,” you offered.

“Nah,” he smiled. “I wanna find out myself.”

The game came to a close, with the school team winning 2-0. Joel embraced Sarah when she ran off the field, wrapping her into a gigantic bear hug and planting a kiss on her forehead. You gave her a small high five, congratulating her on the win. You followed them out to the parking lot, watching as Joel kept his arm wrapped around Sarah’s narrow frame. From this angle, they looked like the perfect father-daughter duo, and your heart seized with happiness knowing he had kept his word.

Digging through your purse for your car keys, you said a quick goodbye and made a beeline for your car. You wouldn’t insert yourself in the rest of their day; you needed to find some distance between you and Joel before he started crawling further under your skin. But as you tugged open your car door, a warmth grew behind you, and you turned to see Joel standing a few steps away. Sarah was nowhere in sight, so you figured she was already waiting for him in his truck.

“Yes?” You asked, standing idle between the open door and Joel’s tall body.

His eyes bounced between your lips and your eyes, never settling on one too long.

“Look, this is gonna sound forward of me, and I can probably guess your answer,” he started. “But can I take you out to dinner sometime? As a ‘thank you' for everything.”

“Mr. Miller,” you sighed. “I appreciate the invitation, but this needs to remain purely professional. I’m Sarah’s teacher, and I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes trailing to the ground. Despite every cell inside your body screaming yes, you needed to stick to your rules—whatever the hell they were.

“I figured you’d say that,” he mumbled. "Listen, let me give you my number at least. If you ever change your mind, or if you need someone to drive you home from the bar, y’can shoot me a call. Is that okay?”

“I…” You trailed off, considering his offer. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

You searched for your phone in your purse, handing it over to him with shaky hands. His fingers brushed against yours as he took it, a crackle of energy bursting through your skin at his touch. He must have noticed, too, because his eyes met yours before he typed in his number. With a few more clicks on your phone, he handed it back, brushing his hand over yours once more.

“I sent myself a text on it,” he confessed. “Now I have yours, just in case of anything, y’know?”

“Yeah, just in case.”

Joel gave you a soft smile before turning and walking away. You watched his figure fade into the cars still filling the parking lot and caught him glancing back at you one last time. You stared down at your phone, seeing the text lit up on the screen. He had sent one simple word to himself: your name. Not Miss Smith, not ‘Sarah’s teacher’, but your name.

You opened his contact information and typed one simple word: Joel

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x teacher!f!reader #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pre outbreak!joel

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redamoureux · 1 year ago

Note

hi!! could u write yandere scout <3 prompt is all yours 🫶 love u

╰﹒RED FACED LOSER!

Yandere Red/Blu Scout headcanons/short

↳ content warning: yandere themes, some fluffs? obsessive behaviour, posessive behaviour, implied invasion of privacy and cloth stealing, implied future forced relationship, ooc?, not proofread

↳ genre: romantic

↳ a/n: Hi! Sorry this took pretty long, didn't have much time and motivation to write so i wss just able to write it just and it's sorta crappy :")

It was long ago, Jeremy first met you when he was on yet another run from his brothers and wasn't paying attention where he was going, causing him to bump into you and throwing the both of you onto the ground.

He'd hastily help you up and picking all the things you had dropped and hurriedly saying sorry before running off. You could only gawk slightly before snapping out of it and continuing with your day.

After weeks, you had almost completely forgotten about the encounter until the day you finally met your roomate. And it was that boy again! He seem also surprised meeting you aswell making your first introduction bit awkward but eventually you both melt into a good long conversation. You two quickly became good friends and you'd often help him with his assigments he couldn't do. At times he'd get bit embarassed and tried to repay you with a box of pizza in return.

When you're working on some project, he'd be a little stubborn and try to persuade you to join him instead for the evening to go hang with his other friends, though you'd often decline.

Sometimes he'd also borrow your jacket with the excuse his is on the laundry. Or even using some of your stationary and more often than not even forgets to give it back, so you'd always have to remind him.

Though once you lost your jacket, jeremy was quick to give you the biggest puppy eyes he could do and convice you that you'd probably forgotten it somewhere when you just asked if he knew where it is-

Jeremy would definitely take you on various 'hangouts' (it's really is a date but he's too embarassed and bit shy to tell you at the time) like watching a drive in romantic movie or trying to share the same milkshake with you. He'd even put his arm around your shoulder, you didn't think much of it, but his heart is thumping real hard.

As time went on however, you notice he was slowing stopping and skipping his classes. It was abit subtle at first, telling you that he was simply feeling unwell. Though overtime, he began skipping whole one, two and so on. Soon you'd hear several rumors from other students that he'd drop out. You feel a little saddend, his disapperance was so sudden! And when you returned back to your dorm, most of his stuffs were missing, save for the few insignificant things here and there. You were baffled and wished he could've said a goodbye but you finally accepted it and went to try moving on. Mysteriously though, some of your belongings seem to be gone too, and you can seem to find them anywhere.

Years passed and today you're going to finally start your first day of your job. You felt little nervous as you walk down the hall. after all you are still quite unexperienced. And hearing about the guys you're going to be working with from your contractor doesn't make it any much better. They said some of them were rude, easily hostile and even insane. Or dumb. You tried reassure yourself, it couldn't possibly be that bad. Your contractor is probably just exaggerating bit too much, you thought as you open the door.

Seconds after that you heard an audible gasp and fast footsteps, before you know it, hands yanked you closer to the person's body and giving you the tighest hug ever. "Ohh babe! I thought i'd never see you again!" Said the man- and you instantlu regonized that voice. Even after years, his voice still hasn't changed much. You pulled back a little, flabbergasted. "Jeremy??" You questioned. He finally let go of you saying, "Hm? Yeah sweetheart? Ohh don't say you'd almost forgotten me there!" He exclaimed as if he had not just suddenly disappeared years and just went back from playing the arcade he usually hang out in. "What are you doing here?-"

"Ttthat's a question i should be asking, Why are you here? Didn't you finally got your dream job? But anyway, i'm just happy that you're here!" He replied. You let out a sad sigh at that, "well yea-i mean no.. it's pretty complicated."

"Hey hey don't be upset. Sorry, i really didn't mean to ruin the mood. So listen, how 'bout we get some milkshakes huh? I'll pay for the both of us!" Jeremy declared. You thought for a second. "That.. would be great. Thanks jeremy." "Just call me scout, sweetie. That name is for the old me." He half joked. After all, his old self is just so stupid and childish for letting you go and even upsetting you for not even saying a goodbye or even able to confess before leaving. Well, don't worry now. He's new now. He would finally confess his habored feelings and he'll never be stupid enough again to ever say goodbye, ever.

REBLOGS/ FEEDBACK/ COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED!

@redamoureux

#team fortress 2 x reader #yandere team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 imagines #yandere tf2 #yandere tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 scout #scout x reader #yandere x reader #yandere male

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literalite · 10 months ago

Text

mistki's the land is inhospitable and so are we (2023)!! as edits featuring mine and some of my friends ocs 😁 had a lot of fun with this project... rough explainer of how/why each song corresponds to each character/s under the cut because i love symbolism and talking! sorry it is long

bug like an angel - sapphire

without spoiling too much of her story and arc... sapphire's life is not easy. she's hurt by people she cares for and who care for her, although inadvertently, and in turn hurts people who she cares for and who cared for her, also not by her own volition. it's kind of a terrible truth that you will harm and be harmed by the people you love, even when you and they truly don't want to. it's up to you how much you're willing to take and deal. you can't keep every promise you make and you can't right every wrong. but you have to keep trying anyway. that's sapphire's strength, and the core of her goodness and why i personally consider her one of my favourite ocs. i chose to depict bug like an angel in mitski's more positive interpretation here and in that light i think it works best for saph

buffalo replaced - heiya

well first and foremost the vibes of the song fits heiya perfectly fhgjk but also lyricism and tone... yep. quick breakdown of heiya's background since i doubt i'll ever be able to do it properly she's an interesting character for me because she like a lot of my other characters has lost. everything. she had a wife and a child and they were both killed and she had to leave her home again and again and unlike how some of my others would have taken this she has never flagged in her unwavering dedication to preserving hope. for herself for her people for the future etc etc. which is a very fucking difficult thing to do! the world changes faster than you can keep up with it sometimes but for heiya she will not let herself tire and be swept away in it all. people rely on her. she's a guiding star as much as she is a woman. she's a lover and a fighter and thats what buffalo replaced means to me! so

heaven - vinny and caleb

i feel like of all my oc couples so far they have like. the sweetest most kind of simply mutually trusting dare i say straight forward love. they just love each other so much and thats all. the world could end around them when theyre together and it'd be okay truly. also yeah vinny is ostensibly in heaven now bye angel i feel like this one was pretty self explanatory. me and who WHEN

i don't like my mind - sunny

he just like me fr (said in denji voice) anyways wow ha. unstoppable unending guilt due to past actions that haunt your every waking moment? throwing yourself into any and all distraction just to take your mind off it, filling your time with other shit so that past sin doesnt for once echo in your awful and hollow brain? this song is perfect for sunny honestly just that sentiment also the "please don't take this job from me".... sometimes the coping is worse. you can be proud of something because you can do it better than anyone else even if that thing is terrible

the deal - wolfgang munch by @gunthermunch

Wolfgang Amadeus Munch. umm this will make more sense later on but it still kind of makes sense now i think. he doesn't want to be himself he keeps . leaving and moving and running away from his own memories his own self in reaction to others. if he could pawn it all off he would. if he could be better in an instant without having to feel every agonising second of change he would! but thats not how the world works. or is it. read munch by gunthermunch thats an order

when memories snow - lilian

i feel the older you get the more your past kind of swells up and trails behind you... at least for lilian that is shes very linked to the different versions of the girl/young woman she used to be. for her its a double edged blade, a lot of her own strength is drawn from who she was and what happened to her throughout her life. they haunt her but she's haunting it back in her own way

my love mine all mine - saige, bellona, ari

stares you down okay so usage of this song very much almost verges into spoiler territory but uhm. uhm. starts twitching basically the whole dynamic here is . sometimes when you love you will sacrifice. and while that is usually a good thing sometimes it is not but sometimes it still is. sometimes you pay your dues for love and sometimes someone else has to pay for your love as well. and whether that is worth it to them remains to be seen. but it's all about love still. whether that's a worthy cause is up to you i suppose

the frost - yoshiki and hikaru from hikaru ga shida natsu

fun fact (or not so fun fact since i had it listed as such) this slot was originally meant to be taken up by a gojo/geto edit and while it still works for them frighteningly well i swerved to do another black and white haired doomed gay pairing gfhjkl; i really recommend yall to read hikaru ga shinda natsu/the summer that hikaru died because honestly it speaks for itself! it's SO good i love it so bad

star - ari and luca by @anjitrait

wow these two did not deserve the horrors the narrative (me) slammed down onto their heads. they're kind of the most married of all time to me but like of course under pressure even the strongest most loving of bonds will warp. they've been together for roughly a decade and a half now. they know and love each other as totally as you could possibly imagine. despite it all i am yours, no matter. are we picking up what i'm putting down chat

i'm your man - nayef and sióar by @lucidicer

after the album dropped like at least 3 people swung into my dms with a ?this you?? about this song which. i mean the fucking dogs that start barking halfway through the song. are you kidding me. but anyways sioyef and devotion. sioyef and putting yourself in your lover's hands and looking to them like they are a god. this is super self explanatory. you know

i love me after you - redacted and ophelia

HM.... all i'll say here is that sometimes the homoerotic tension filled high school friendship where both parties have something very wrong with them but in totally different directions can be. scarring. bad. sometimes love just isn't enough when you don't know what you're meant to do with it and when you've lived in survival mode all your life. but that once the dust clears you can scrape yourself off the ground get up keep going and that isn't gonna be the end for you there. or for love, even. sometimes shit just ain't meant to be and thats ok

#ts4 #urghhgh idek how many hours this is cumulatively. dont wanna #ts4 edit #seph.txt #p

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pascallatte · 2 years ago

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Oi, Pedro!!

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actress!reader

Summary: Y/N and Pedro’s friendship from the pov of fans and friends collected in 2012.

Date: December 2012

Warnings: age gap but still platonic!reader but with a hint of something cause 👀 friends don't- you know what you’ll know once you read it. a curse word.

A VIDEO COMPILATION OF Y/N AND PEDRO'S "FRIENDSHIP" the year 2012.

P.s. This contains videos posted by fans and friends so this is the quick buildup of their relationship when they were seen together last April to November 2012

Vid 1: caught by fans last April, doing an ice cream run the night before Pedro’s birthday.

Whispers were heard as the video started, the camera clears out and zoomed in on the pair on the far side of the sidewalk.

“Is that really them?” the guy walking ahead asks.

“Of course, I know and I’m sure that’s Y/N.” The one who’s recording zooms in on the pair.

“Oh my Godd” she let out a loud gasp as she shook her male friend,” She’s with Pedro!!”

“Who?” The guy asks as he tries to get a clearer look at them.

“PEDRO PASCAL! You douche! Look they’re getting ice cream, come on let’s go say hi”

The video focuses on the two of you who were standing in line, in front of the ice cream stand. You are seen chatting with him, rather enthusiastically before bending down to somehow calm yourself down after all that laughter.

Pedro who was listening to you the whole time tried to help you up as you continue to fall down to a kneeling position before threading his arms around your waist in a way to stabilize the woman he was with. They calmed down after a few seconds before it looked like you were beckoning Pedro to share his thoughts as he was then seen explaining with the same enthusiasm you did a while ago.

The one recording got close enough to start a conversation and she did.

“Hi excuse me, sorry for disturbing your time. But I just wanted to say that I am a big fan of you, y/n, and I’m hoping to see you in more projects in the future.” The girl starts as she focuses the camera on you who, in shock, moved behind Pedro while clutching the side of his jacket.

“Oh hi! Thank you for the support and uhm you weren’t disturbing us, and uh- yeah, Thank you again!!” You said somewhat nervously as you shyly giggled while looking at the pair who approached you and then at Pedro, with a somewhat “I don’t know what else to do, help me” look.

Guys the look!!! The motherfreaking look, Y/n gave Pedro AAAA that isn’t a look friends give each other if they’re asking for help but for the sake of this video I’m gonna let you guys judge.

The video resumes as Pedro clears his throat and with a small smile, he begins,” AH yes thank you for the supporting y/n but we really need to go. It was nice meeting you yeah?”

And as if god was with them, as soon as Pedro finished talking, their ice creams were done and he was seen taking both before pulling you by the hand.

“Oh, it was nice meeting you too, and have a happy birthday tomorrow sir!!” The male friend says before he was seen ordering.

Walking away, you were seen smiling towards the camera mouthing a small thank you, before side-hugging Pedro as a sign of thank you.

Ok but that was cute… I cannot think of anything but Pedro understanding the look on y/n’s face as she looked up at him

Vid 2: a very old ig story from one of the producers of Supernatural, September 2012, finishing up se 8 in Vancouver

Music was heard blaring in the background. They were in some sort of resto-bar in Vancouver as they were shooting for Supernatural SE 8. The video camera then flips to show two of the show’s producers with the on-show siblings: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, and Y/N L/N who was seen wearing only a knitted jumper set and a beanie.

They were asked to say hi one by one before Pedro, who was trying to stay hidden, was seen seated just right beside you.

now hold up, ever since I watched this, it made me curious as to why Pedro was there if he wasn’t part of the cast. It’s cute that they’re seen hanging out and supporting each other’s works but really, you’re gonna fly to Vancouver just to hang out OMG I’m telling you, guys, something is up between the two.

The video then continues to rotate as the producer shows the interior of the place they were at, he then starts talking about the upcoming release of supernatural season 8. But despite the loud music in the background, a short whispered conversation was caught in the recording.

A small voice saying “cold” was the first thing heard followed by a loud “what?”.

But when the video camera rounds the table once again it was then clear that you and Pedro were the ones whispering to each other.

The camera was passed to Jensen who also proceeds to say random stuff to the camera with the occasional screams.

The whispering then continued but this time louder.

“I said, it’s too fucking cold, I told you it was a bad idea to go here straight from the set.” You said that was slightly heard.

Pedro then replied sounding rather smugly “ I know but I also told you to bring your puffer with you cause you get cold easily, now whose fault is that.”

A loud smack was heard in the background that made Jensen look to his right before laughing and continuing whatever he was previously doing.

“I know OK! I just thought it would be warmer here 'cause it is a bar and-…” you said but was soon muffled as the music got deafeningly louder.

As the phone was passed to Jared, he calls and taps you on the shoulder first, before sharing the camera with you. In the last few seconds of the video, you were seen wearing a blue puffer jacket that looked at least 3 sizes bigger than you.

oh….we know who gave her that jacket. And aaaaaaaa y/n complaining because of the coldness is so me because as soon as the temperature drops I’d be running my mouth all the time.

Vid 3: caught by fans in a bar in downtown Manhattan 2012, November

Pt 1

The video started with you walking rather happily, you can actually call it skipping at this point. Shushes were heard in the background when you started sprinting down the path.

Stopping in front of a bar in downtown Manhattan, she brings her hands towards her mouth in an O position before shouting “ OI Pedro!!” and raises both hands up to wave.

The fans taking the video sounded shocked and muttered multiple “Oh my gosh Pedro’s here”, “Pedro oh shit he’s with her again”

In the background, Pedro was seen turning excitedly before jogging towards you and pulling you into a tight hug before placing his hand on your cheeks while telling you something that the video wasn’t able to get.

After a brief chat out in the entrance, Pedro wraps his arm around your shoulders before leading you inside.

hold up I, when I don't see my friends for months straight, never really hug them that long and then maintain eye contact cause we'll be too distracted and excited to catch up but theyyy don't see each other for a week and they react like this, i- I don't wanna say or think of any more excuses. Ok back to it then

Before the video ended, the fans recording shouted your names while you turned around for a quick wave, then proceeded to enter the building.

It seemed like you two were catching up as this was a week after that red-carpet event you were absent from because of an illness that made you stay at home.

Pt 2

That same night a fan in the bar posted on her Facebook a pic of her male friend with y/n and Pedro. The picture was followed by the video below.

“Girl you better record all this, 'cause I wanna rewatch the moment I met one of the best pairs ever in the media industry,” her male friend told her before they were seen walking towards the table you and Pedro were sitting at. The one recording then followed her friend to have a closer look.

“-nd yeah that’s what happened, people do tend to follow you around,” Pedro’s voice was heard before he was even seen on camera.

Straightening themselves up her friend slowly walks to the table and pats you on the shoulder. Pedro gave the one recording a look before nodding towards you who was caught taking off your beanie.

With a wide smile, you looked at them with a “Hi, hello”

The male friend quickly greeted back and asked you how your day was. You responded enthusiastically. The same person was also seen waving to Pedro and he waved back with a small shy smile.

“Y/n, I know this is a little going past the line but I just wanna say that despite being sick in the past week and a half you are motherfucking glowing girl.” The male friend said with a lively tone.

With a laugh you looked towards Pedro who is seen nodding while looking you up and down. Turning back to the fan you laughed and said “Awww thank you!! Not what I expected but that is different than what I usually hear.”

The chatting then continued for another minute of chatting before the male friend asked for a picture to which you eagerly stood up and pulled them for a hug before finding a place for the picture.

A shot was already taken with the fans’ arms wrapped around you to form a hug when you suddenly separated yourself and went back to the table to pull Pedro up.

A loud “Come on Pedro!! Just this once, I don’t wanna do it by myself.” Was heard from you while Pedro was seen standing up rather slowly before pulling you by the neck and walking towards the camera.

You asked the friend to take another picture but with you three in which they nodded enthusiastically as they looked at you.

Fixing yourselves up, the first photo was with you three just smiling and standing stiff. Then the second pose was when you placed your arm over Pedro’s shoulder, who was forced to lean down by the way, and your other hand squished his left cheek. A couple more photos were taken before the fan said a quick thank before they were seen going back to their tables, however, Pedro was stopped by a female fan for a quick picture and a wave.

“Girl, I don’t know how I handled that but I am going to remember that for the rest of my life.”

a/n: hello if you get to read this thank you and sorry that this was a bit longer than usual, but I wanted to try this format so yeah here we have it. alsooo I haven't really decided on when I would post so if you guys can help me decide it would be of great help.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x actress!reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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ninapi · 8 months ago

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●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

*＊✿❀ First Timers ❀✿＊*

Premise: Falling in love for the first time can be really awkward, but once you find the one, even if you end up looking like an idiot, it's completely worth it.

Word Count: 2607

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Cat behavior is often inexplicable.

PekeJ had one of the worst habits there is to have in a cat and that is, leaving his house to explore town.

Chifuyu constantly had to suffer mini heart attacks when he saw it’s gone missing again, but seeing him actually jump out of his second floor window had to take the cake.

A loud gasp left his lips once his dear fluffy friend jumped out of his balcony as if it was his bed, his entire life as pet went through Chifuyu’s eyes…”PEKEJ NOOOOOO!” running over to his balcony, he saw him alive and well, swaying his little fluff butt as he walked down the street as if nothing had happened. Collapsing on the railing, Chifuyu tried to regain his breath and calm his wildly beating heart to run out and retrieve his friend before further troubles could arise from his mid afternoon rendezvous.

A few streets away he spotted him by the vending machines, however, as usual, he wasn’t alone.

He really enjoyed that spot of town, particularly the top of the snacks vending machine, it was a lovely spot for sunbathing, but today, the comfy lap of a human girl seemed just like the best choice for enjoyment.

Wind had fun playing with your beautiful hair, tickling the softness of your cheeks as you petted his belly in a loving manner. The cat stretched out completely in the entirety of your lap accepting all the affection you had to offer him.

Sighing at the spoiled attitude of his furry friend, Chifuyu decides is best to approach the stranger and retrieve him, you seemed nice enough not to hurt him but still, trusting strangers with your own family isn’t wise.

Once he’s close enough though, he realizes you aren’t a complete stranger, causing him to gasp once more. “You’re that one girl in Baji-san’s class, right? The one who worked with him for that English project?”

You didn’t like talking about Baji, thinking he was indeed dead was a touchy subject still. He used to sit behind you in class and his empty seat still hunts you daily, even if you weren’t what you would call ‘friends’, having someone you know simply die out of nowhere can change your essence to your core, makes you realize not everyone has a future, no matter how nice they are.

“That’s me, yeah…” nodding with a sad smile on your lovely face you finally decide to look up from your lap, “Oh you were his friend, right? Chi…..mmmmm….Chi….” you hummed in thought as the kitten nuzzled your cheek.

Chifuyu kept making a ‘fu’ with his pouty lips as to give you a hint, but his face was just so cute that made you giggle, “Chi…haru?”

Deflating, he lets out a defeated sigh, "Fuyu…It’s Chifuyu actually…” he rubs the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly.

“Oh yeah! I knew it was a season! Chifuyu! How could I forget? Winter is my favorite season…” PekeJ decided to take a nap while you started giving more attention to his owner instead, making you smile at his soft little snores. “How about yours?”

“Huh?” he was honestly confused, talking with girls has never been one of his strong attributes.

“Your favorite season?” God…why were you being this cute? The little glittery orbs the extreme sun was causing to reflect on your face caused an almost ethereal look on you, like if you were some sort of vision, a goddess even, it made him go completely blanc and he even forgot how talk for a minute there.

“Ugh…favorite…season...Not sure…Never thought about that…I guess I like summer? You can do a bunch of fun stuff and there’s no school…”… “and I got to meet such a beautiful angel….” The las part though, was just for himself, never leaving his lips.

“Summer, huh? A bit unexpected for someone who has winter as part of his name.” giggling, you scooted over to the side to make some space for him to sit with you on the sidewalk you were currently sitting at, of course he complied, his hand going to rest on his cat unconsciously.

“He most feel him in you…” his words were soft, sad even, startling you a bit.

“Him?”

“Baji-san…PekeJ used to escape and visit his home. Ever since he’s been gone…he’s been restless and a bit confused…but he seems to feel at home in your lap. Maybe he knows you were somewhat close to him in a way…” that got a smile out of you, animals can really be something else.

“Do you think he smells him in me? I do shower twice every day, that sounds a bit unlikely….”

“Hmmm…maybe is not his smell but like…how do I explain this…Baji-san had a way with people…he tended to make people’s heart warmer? Maybe he feels that warmth he craves so much in you…”

“I think I know what you mean…while we weren’t really close, just having him seat behind me made me see what kind of person he really was…” a tear rolls down your cheek, you’ve never really cried over the loss, you felt a bit awkward to cry over someone you’ve barely talked to in all your life. But Chifuyu embraced the feeling, and didn’t judge you at all whatsoever.

“Hey…It’s ok…” he leaned closer and wiped the tear away with his thumb, “It must be really hard for you…being there in class every day…”

That broke you…your tears started to fall down on PekeJ’s fur which scared the hell out of him thinking it was raining, though, when he saw they came from you, he went over to your other cheek, cuddling you warmly while Chifuyu kept on trying to catch the falling little drops of sadness.

“It’s weird isn’t it? We weren’t friends or anything but I miss him being around…he was so nice to me…I don’t understand why he had to die like that…”

Chifuyu was still definitely not over it yet and hearing your words just caused his own eyes to fill up with tears, a loud sniff coming from him catching your attention.

“I’m sorry, it’s selfish of me to act this way, you were his closest friend, I’m sure it’s been way worse for you…”

He shakes his head while wiping some snot away from his nose, “It makes me happy knowing someone else misses him too. That someone remembers him daily and think fondly of him…I know I must keep going…for him…but it’s hard…” you brought him into a tight embrace, gently rubbing his back while you both sobbed into each other’s neck.

“It’s ok…you can cry with me…let it all out…”

PekeJ was just utterly confused, now even his owner was a watery mess, he honestly didn’t know what to do, so he just went in between the both of you to keep your bellies warm, something he knows his owner likes.

And in all honesty was very comforting.

Not only having the support of his beloved pet friend, but also having someone to cry with, someone who doesn’t tell him to man up, to move on…someone he can really just be himself with, other than Baji-san, made his heart fill up with warmth.

Without noticing, you both spent a couple of hours just talking, reminiscing of old silly memories of Baji while sitting in front of a bush cuddling his cat and eating vending machine ice cream together.

An unexpected way to spend your Sunday, but in all truth, none of you have had so much fun in quite some time.

It felt good to let that awful pressure off your chest, to cry it all out, then laugh as much as you can.

It felt good, for the first time in a while, to just be alive.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Chifuyu has never liked a girl before.

Of course, he’s seen pretty girls here and there, drool over some magazines, like any other teenage boy, but this was his first time really crushing over someone.

He couldn’t sleep, wasn’t hungry, even homework was a hassle for the poor guy. All he could think of had to do with you, your lovely giggles, how they make his stomach feel all bubbly, like gas, but a good kind of gas…your pretty eyes…he could just stare at them all day…the way PekeJ loves you so much…he knows whats good after all, always choosing the best people for him…

With a long sigh, he finally decides to send you a text, he’s been debating it since he returned home that day but didn’t feel right to bother you without a reason, so he thought of something, “Hey, did my wallet fall into your purse by any chance?”

“Winter boy! Hi!” you sent him a cute cat waving sticker and it melted his heart into a puddle, “I didn’t have a purse with me that day, sorry I haven’t seen your wallet :( “

Great, just great. He was a complete idiot. Of course you didn’t have a purse, he would have seen it…

“That’s ok, don’t worry. I’m sure it’s somewhere in my room. You must be busy, sorry I texted you out of nowhere…”

“I’m not busy~

Was actually thinking about you just now~”

Like a high school girl, he plopped down on his bed flat on his belly, legs swinging happily, “Oh yeah? What about?”

“Is it weird that I... kinda miss you?”

“Not at all, I think I miss you too…” both of your hearts were racing violently, none of you were expecting to have this conversation tonight and most definitely not while texting.

“You do?”

“Mhm”

“Wanna meet up? Maybe at the same place? That ice cream was surprisingly good…wanna try other flavors.”

“Meet you there in 5..” without even getting changed he ran out of his room, taking only his phone and some change with him. His hair was messy and he was wearing a silly cat print t-shirt, but you weren’t much different. Your hair was up in a side ponytail, and you were clearly on your lounge wear too, no make up, nothing.

Both of you just ran out of your houses as fast as you could.

Panting heavily while looking at each other, you both just burst out laughing. “Nice shirt…”

“Nice hair…”

Giggling you both chose a different ice cream flavor from last time, Chifuyu not letting you pay for yours, and sat back on the sidewalk.

“Let me give you the coins I brought for it…”

“Don’t want them (Y/N), c’mon is just a dollar ice cream, nothing fancy…”

“But you lost your wallet!”

“I didn’t…it was just a silly excuse to text you…” he looked away, his cheeks as red as the cherry ice cream packaging in his hand.

“Why didn’t you just say hi?” your cute little laugh only made his heart go even wilder, his blush was physically painful for him at this point, making him feel feverish.

“I don’t know…how to do this…It’s the first time I’ve wanted to talk to someone this bad…but have nothing to say…” he was mumbling his words out quietly, fidgeting with the ice cream in his hands.

“I didn’t know what to say either, I kept staring at my phone thinking of things I could send you, but didn’t want to be seen as clingy…”

Your words snapped him out of his shy fit, “Really? You were like that too? I took at least twenty different pics of PekeJ so I could send them to you and have something to say…” he laughed, shaking his head in embarrassment.

“And why didn’t you send them!!! I would have loved to see them!” his heart had permanently moved to his throat, he could feel it throbbing there, intensely.

“I didn’t know what to say! Can’t really text someone ‘hey I was thinking about you so I took this pic of my cat so I don’t look like a complete clingy idiot’ don’t you think?” his frustrated outburst made you blush and laugh, he was so cute, it made your heart swell with affection.

“I know, I wanted to do the very same thing but I guess we indeed are a couple of idiots…” your loving smile made a hole in his stomach, he’s never wanted to hold someone this bad before, not even his cat…

“I guess we are…” his hand was itchy, he wanted to hold yours in his, and so he started tapping his fingers very close to your own on the sidewalk.

“Do you have them still?”

“The pics?”

“Yeah! I would like to see them!”

Nodding, Chifuyu pulled out his phone and you pressed yourself even closer to him so you could see his screen. This made him sweat buckets, you were so soft, so warm…the summer heat wasn’t working on his favor either even if it was later in the evening and the sun was now asleep.

“He’s so silly look.”

He showed you a bunch of pictures of him trying to catch a little bird on his balcony, of him chewing on his own tail, of him asleep over one of his pillows…Each picture was cuter than the last one, making you giggle happily and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“He’s so cute…I guess it’s true what they say. The pets and their owners end up looking alike~”

“Does that mean I’m silly?”

“Means you’re cute, silly.”

That made his teenage hormones rage, this was the first time in his entire life he wanted to kiss someone, it was such a desperate feeling, he felt like tugging his hair out of his head, he needed to do this, right now. But how? Was it that simple? He needs your permission first is not like he can just-

When he looked down at you, you had your eyes closed, your lips puckering out cutely.

That counts as consent right?

This was most likely your first time kissing someone too, as you looked like a cute manga character waiting to be kissed. This made him grin, you were adorable, if you were to hate him for kissing you out of nowhere he’d be devastated, but he couldn’t take it anymore.

He lowered his head, drinking in your cute little face before pressing his lips lightly to yours.

The kiss wasn’t wild, nor sensual. It was soft, gentle, full of wonder and curiosity.

Your hand reached his, and you just stayed there pressing your lips together like the idiots you were for minutes on.

“I think we are doing something wrong-“ he mumbled against your lips, making you chuckle.

“Yeah I think we are supposed to move our lips-“

“Ok, ok let’s try again-“

After some trial and error, you both managed to have a real first kiss, full of longing, of young love, expectations of a bright happy future imprinting themselves in the kiss.

This was your first time kissing a guy, your first time falling in love.

And so it was Chifuyu’s.

"Here have some of my ice cream, it's yummy."

"Oh I know, your lips taste like cherry.."

"Ugh...right...you did taste a bit like chocomint too.." being with someone has never been this fun, sharing every bit of you with someone, even your own sadness, can be very rewarding. Specially when that someone was as cute as you.

"Hey...do you want to...you know...like...maybe ugh...be my....you know what I mean don't you?"

"Girlfriend?"

"Yeah that..." his blushing came back stronger than ever, not very manly but he just couldn't help it when you were involved.

"That would be lovely...yeah."

You both could swear you heard Baji's little approving laugh in the background. Even if it was impossible, it somehow felt like he was looking over you, over your union, and that just made it all so much better, more meaningful.

You both still didn't fully know what dating someone entailed, but both knew that as long as you were together, everything would be alright.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● ●・○・●・○・●

Masterlist

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #fluff #tokyo rev fluff #chifuyu matsuno #matsuno chifuyu #chifuyu x reader #tr chifuyu #chifuyu x you #chifuyu x y/n #chifuyu x fem!reader #chifuyu fluff #angst

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seajelllies · 10 months ago

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𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝟐 ♡︎ not quite, sweetheart masterlist ✎ roll call 1 ✎ roll call 2

"Don't get mad-"

"Every time you say that, my blood pressure rises."

He let out a long nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before clearing his throat. "I kind of uha, have to pick up some things for a project in one of my classes."

"Yuji," You frown, lifting your head from the textbook you've been staring so deeply at he swore you'd burn a hole in it someday. "You were the one who told me to come over to help you."

"I know I know, I'm sorry, I'll be quick, really." He mumbles apologetically. He felt bad, really, and you could tell from the way he kept his eye contact.

You look at the time on your phone for a second before glancing back at him with a sigh. It wouldn't hurt to just stay put for a bit anyways, since he bought you food and all. If anything, you could just continue studying on your own with less distractions anyways- you weren't the one losing any time.

"Yeah, sure that's fine-"

"Thank you! You're the best! I'll be back, I swear!" And before you could even fully finish your sentence he bolted out of the door, and you could hear someone yelp in the hallway- probably bumping into him in the process. You almost forgot he used to do track in high school- surely you wouldn't be waiting for long.

You let out a soft snort, shaking your head with a sigh.

The first thing Sukuna did when he opened the door, was grumble to himself, running his hand through his hair in frustration. Attending classes was annoying, even more so after he already stays behind at his job for 2 hours longer than he should have.

'I should just fucking quit.' His eye twitches at the thought- very tempting, but quitting meant no money. No money meant no classes. No classes meant no potential decent job. No potential decent job meant he was going to be stuck selling drugs again- which he'd much prefer.

But he can't subject Yuji to that kind of association. Detrimental to his future, or whatever he told himself to justify not taking the easy way out.

As he makes his way into the room, there's 3 things wrong.

One. Yuji's bag and jacket are here, but not Yuji. Sure, those two things don't always need to follow him wherever he goes, but he's gotten used to him just lazing around by the time he gets back.

Two. There's another bag next to his. Unfamiliar, just like the shoes that definitely do not belong to his brother sitting neatly at the doorway. Yuji doesn't tend to invite people over, he usually goes to hang out at Kugisaki or even Fushiguro's dorm.

Three. There's a stranger quite literally sitting at their shared table, head in their arms. He can only assume they fell asleep, because he was almost sure they'd turn around the second the door opens if they weren't. Who just falls asleep in someone elses dorm?

Especially on a table that he can't remember the last time was properly cleaned.

He walks closer, frowning as he shoves his hand in the pockets of his jacket. His eyes glanced down at them as he peered over their shoulder, trying to gauge how asleep they were.

"Oi." He sounded irritated and tired- mostly because he actually was, eye twitching at the unfamiliar guest that seemed to be quite comfortable just falling asleep here.

"Brat, wake up." He scoffs, kicking the leg of the chair lightly, hoping it would stir them awake. But it doesn't and their head stays still, the only sign of them even being alive was their body moving up and down from breathing.

"You've got to be joking." He groans, snapping in front of their head, trying to get them to wake up without simply throwing them off the chair. Calm. Calm. Calm. He had to stay calm, he can not cause another issue and risk getting expelled.

He was too tired for this.

He fights the urge to throw his phone at the wall, exasperated sigh leaving his lips again, his scowl deepening when he notices them adjusting slightly, their arms shifting so he could slightly see their face.

His eyes glance down at them, and he plops into the seat next to theirs, elbow leaning on the desk with his chin resting on his hand with an irritated frown.

How someone could look so peaceful sleeping in someone elses room, he would never understand. Especially a dorm with two college guys- were they stupid? Or maybe they really were exhausted, like Yuji said.

Strands of their hair fall onto their eyes, and he reaches out to move it before he catches himself.

He lets out another grunt, eye twitching when he realizes he was staring too closely at a random stranger, and he moves back, leaning against the back of the shitty chair- hands shoved back into his jacket.

But the feeling of the hair in their eyes seems to wake them up, lashes fluttering slowly as they blink to adjust to the sudden light. They seem to realize they aren't alone, rubbing their sleepy eyes as they turn to glance at him.

"Yuji?" Their voice was quiet, and clearly very exhausted. Hair still slightly in their face, eyes blinking in his direction in confusion

Cute. Almost.

"Not quite, sweetheart."

𝑻𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔!

︾ There was more writing than there were screenshots even though I told myself there wasn't gonna be as much writing to save myself the pain of thinking 🧍‍♀️ ;;sobbing

︾ Anyways I changed the title from what it was going to be originally and move it to chapter 3 because I feel like it'd fit better there! anyways grumpy sukuna is silly, he's so >:( but he'll warm up soon. probably. 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

︾ ik i already said this was fem/afab!reader but my dumbass brain kept writing they/them/their and i didn't realize till i got to the end. im sorry 😔

𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒍! the taglist

@sweetteez

#jjk smau #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk masterlist #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk texts #jjk fake texts #ryomen sukuna x reader

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oleandequill · 7 days ago

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Did I Ever Really Know You? (SG TFOne Fanfic) - Chapter 2

It was supposed to be a one-shot, but alas... skskks

Okay but I decided to make more because I realized that chapter 1 was like the first stage of grief (denial). So now, we have the second stage: anger.

So yeah, this is a continuation of a previous fic I posted, there will be a link to it here (though you could also just read the fic on Ao3 as well).

prev | next

The remains of Sentinel had been reduced to nothing but scrap in Sub-Level 50. Optimus Prime had ensured it himself. While he would have preferred a reminder of everything the mech had done to them, just the sight of that grisly frame sent a spark of anger through his processor that if he wanted to be a good ruler for Iacon, then he would have to erase anything that could trigger such a violent reaction. After all, despite the burning rage inside him, he wouldn’t hurt his new citizens. They had been so loyal to him, why needlessly punish them?

Bee had been ecstatic when Optimus had granted him the honors. It was the second time the mech had shown such joy. The first had been when Sentinel had died. In truth, Optimus didn’t really care who would melt down Sentinel’s frame but Bee had been so eager that he decided to reward him. Bee had been loyal to him. He had stayed and done what Optimus had asked. None of that arguing or fighting that some of the other mechs had done. Of course, Optimus had subdued the protestors and ensured they could never go against his orders again.

If Dee had stayed, Optimus would have granted him that honor. After all, what better gift to give to his future conjunx than the opportunity to kill his torturer? Dee should have been happy. He should have been as happy as Bee when Sentinel died. The energon in his cables boiled as he remembered the last time he’d seen Dee. There was another reason Optimus had wanted Sentinel reduced to scrap. Remembering Dee take that mech’s arm for himself, using it to attack him, was enough to send him into a rage. Good. He would need that anger soon enough.

With energon restored to Cybertron, there was no longer any need for the mines to remain. Optimus had personally ensured that detonation would occur once he’d given his official word. To think that in another world he and Dee would have stayed down there until they died, probably to some mining accident. An insignificant death. He had snuck down, unable to recharge as memories of Dee haunted him. He needed one last moment, one last look at the place where he and Dee had first met. It would be the last time any mech would step pede in this darkness.

Optimus wouldn’t go deep into the mines, he only had one place he needed to see. Soon enough, he was standing by a familiar berth. His digits traced the scribbles on it, remnants of Dee’s thoughts etched onto the metal. Despite himself, a smile played on his dermas as he remembered the countless times he would find Dee standing by his berth, no doubt writing down whatever mathematical formula or idea he had come up with. Yet with those memories came the debates they’d had. Optimus didn’t regret them one bit. He had only wanted what was best for Dee.

—

“Dreaming again?” He leaned against the berth, examining his fellow miners in recharge. It was still dark outside, but Pax was used to onlining early. While he usually chose to enter the archives at any convenient time, he found that it was easier to sneak in when most mechs were still in their berths. After he would usually return to the miners’ quarters and sit at the roof, processing the information, but he had run into an online Dee the moment he had gotten back. The mech was scribbling notes, and Pax never wasted an opportunity to talk to Dee.

“Pax!” Dee had quickly covered his intake with a servo, unwilling to accidentally disturb the other miners from their recharge. Pax rolled his optics. Always so considerate of other mechs. He leaned closer, skimming through the new numbers and symbols that decorated Dee’s berth. He understood them, after all, Pax wasn’t stupid - but he didn’t particularly care about really processing them right now. “Did you go to the archives again? One of these days, you’ll get caught and demoted, Pax. You could have at least told me before you left. I know I’m good at thinking on the spot but—”

“I really don’t get you.” His vocalizer didn’t betray his feelings yet, but from the way Dee flinched, Pax knew the other mech could tell where this line of conversation was going. Honestly, he didn’t enjoy picking a fight with Dee. There were other mechs - like that pathetic Darkwing - that he enjoyed messing with. Dee was his best friend, and the most Pax usually ever did was tease the mech. But he was tired. He had just gotten back from a perilous journey to the archives, and here was Dee, indulging in his dreams underneath the safety veil of complacency.

“Pax…” Dee awkwardly gestured to the recharging mechs. It was a weak excuse to avoid the lecture. Right, that’s what it was. Pax never fought with Dee and he wasn’t picking a fight. Rolling his optics, Pax grabbed him by the arm before dragging him to the roof. Fine, he’ll spare Dee the embarrassment. Besides, Pax didn’t want to give the other mechs any ideas that they could lecture Dee. Only Pax was allowed to do that. Slamming the door shut behind them, Pax let Dee take a few steps back. “We’re miners, Pax. Our role is to mine energon—”

“Is that what you want forever, Dee?! To mine until we die in a mining accident?!” Pax kept moving closer, with Dee backing away until he had nowhere else to go. That close, Pax could see the way Dee’s blue optics widened. Not in fear. Dee only ever held concern for him. Pax raised a servo to his helm, his spark thrumming with indignation and pent-up hurt. “This can’t be my life forever, Dee. I deserve more than this. You deserve more than this. We can’t stay here in the darkness, Dee. I… I can’t live like this. I won’t.”

“Pax… It’s not forever. Think of how Sentinel Prime scours the surface for the Matrix of Leadership.” Dee had reached out, grabbing his servo in his. Pax’s gaze flickered back to his best friend. Those blue optics were always enough to calm him down… but then Dee just had to continue. “Sentinel Prime continues to sacrifice his safety each time he goes to the surface. We have to have hope that he’ll find the Matrix and restore energon to Cybertron. Until then, every mech has a role to play. Even if we are cogless, we have a duty to Iacon—”

“If you believe so much in duty, then why dream? Why hurt yourself like this, Dee? Why not resign yourself to being a miner if you truly believe that is our duty to Iacon?” Pax gripped Dee’s servo in his, not unkindly, but more so to cement himself. He knew his vocoder had turned cold, the anger ebbing into a chill that made the other mech in front of him shake. “Why delude yourself in this hope? Doesn’t it hurt, Dee? Why continue to dream and do nothing to achieve it? Aren’t you scared of dying before reaching your dream?”

Dee didn’t really have an answer. They stood there in silence until light began to fall on them. Down below, they both knew that the other miners were beginning to online from their recharge. No one would care to notice that they were missing. So, Pax stayed there, holding onto Dee’s servo. He wasn’t sure when, but at some point, he had begun to actually care for the other mech. When they had first met, Pax had only spoken to him because Dee had amused him. Now… Pax couldn’t quite understand why his spark ached for Dee and his dreams.

“I don’t know. I can’t do what you do. You… you’re reckless. You don’t consider the consequences. Maybe Primus loves you so much that you continue to get away with it. I’m not you, Pax. I can’t sneak into the archives, and I don’t want to. I… can only dream.” Dee pulled his servo away, placing it awkwardly against his shoulder pad before walking past him. Pax remained where he was, watching the back of Dee’s frame as he headed back - towards their quarters to prepare for another rotational period in the cold dark. “Come on, we can’t be late.”

Then Pax was alone, the light nearly blinding his optics as he looked up at the sky. Ever since he’d first gone online, Pax had known there was more to him. Even after he had been designated as a miner and understood that he was cogless, he knew he’d have to prove to every mech that he was so much more. He had only cared about reaching his own dreams. To pit with everyone else. Now… He stared back to where Dee had left.

Why did he feel the need to make sure Dee would achieve his own dreams too?

—

Optimus was broken out of the memory at the sound of metal crunching. He looked up, realizing that while he had been distracted, he had grabbed the berth and was now in the processing of crushing it. He had already left quite the dent. Even though he had come back to his senses, his processor kept rewinding that scene of Dee walking away from him, resigning himself to another rotational period in the mines - leaving Optimus alone to stare at the surface sky. They had risen up to the surface together… Now here he was in the mines, completely alone.

The axe sunk into the berth, sparks flying past as he started striking at the metal. What did it matter? With just one word, this entire place would be gone. What difference did it make that this berth would be destroyed by him personally? He kept striking, feeling the heat of the sparks against him. He needed it all gone. He needed those scribbles - useless numbers and formulas from a mech who would never dare to actually use them - gone. No. Erased. No other mech should ever get to see them. They will die in the dark. Where they belonged.

Soon, the axe wasn’t enough. His servos began to smash against the berth, energon leaking past his damaged digits as he struck again and again. Optimus didn’t know how long he had spent doing it, but by the time he had come back to his senses, he could hardly recognize the berth before him. The scribbles were gone, crushed into nothing.

He felt himself kneel to the ground, venting hard as the gravity of what he’d done overcame him. It was stupid. The berth would have been destroyed in the detonation of the mines, but somehow he felt foolish having destroyed it himself.

But he was no fool. He knew it wasn’t the berth or the scribbles that were tearing at his spark. It was Dee, and how Optimus had let him go.

He had only wanted to kill Sentinel and any mech who still followed that deceiver.

Dee had jumped in the way.

For all their differences. Even after Optimus had let his rage consume him the moment he had found out Sentinel’s deception, he had never thought of harming Dee.

The broken arm in his new quarters said otherwise. Optimus could hardly stand to look at it. He kept it still since it was the only remembrance he had of Dee.

They were supposed to build the future together.

As much as he loathed it, Optimus hoped that Dee was still doing his silly equations up on the surface.

Now they were both free to achieve their dreams.

Optimus had yet to fulfill his. It was an honor to be a Prime, but he was so alone…

“You belong by my side, Dee.” He murmured, his red optics shining in the dark. “I’ll drill it into your processor until you realize you belong nowhere else but with me.”

#shattered glass #sg tfone #sg megatron #sg optimus prime #sg megop #megop #dpax #opmeg #transformers #transformers one

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dark-l-angel · 6 months ago

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Oh my gosh princess???? You called me princess?? I'm so flattered 😭😭 but if I'm a princess then you m'lady are a queen! Or, better yet an empress!!!

Anyways, thank you so much for listening to my delusional rambles, it's really nice because I never get to share this with anyone. I have something in my head that I think you would like, but it's going to be super long. I just feel like it will resonate with you, plus I'm super excited to share it with you!

So I saw your post about favorite batboys and can I just say, you took the words right out of my mouth. Why do they both have to be so perfect?!? This is where I think you might resonate with my delulu idea. Best friends with Dick, lovers with Jason. Allow me to give a ridiculously long explanation. Growing up I was really good friends with a group of boys (not in a pick-me girl kinda way, genuine friends) and I got along with them really well for years. Come our teenage years and one of the boys I was close with got really good-looking (I'm talking real fine) and I may have developed a crush on my best friend. Apparently I had started to look pretty attractive too because the feeling was mutual. We both confessed our feelings about a year later and tried to go out a couple times. Yeah, that didn't work out because the chemistry was all wrong, and after a few months we agreed that we didn't have a romantic future together and we were better off as just friends. Here are some silly examples of our relationship now. “I've been thinking” “Be careful, doing something for the first time is hard and sometimes dangerous.” *eye roll* “I had an idea!” “oh no, here we go again”. ( I'm in charge of a project for the day) “Put that here” “Put that here!” he copies in a high-pitch girly voice. “Are you- are you mocking me!?” “No, I'm just practicing for when I need to do this-” *Sigh of relief “-using my annoyed female project lead voice.” *eye roll no. 2* laying down on the floor after running together on the hottest day of the year “Come on, let's keep going!” “I'm dying, you're going to have to leave me!” “We haven't even ran a block!” “Yes, but the sun is killing me, I'm severely dehydrated.” “The sun hasn't even risen yet!” “Leave me! Continue this brave journey without me! Tell my story!” “You're so dramatic” *eye roll no. 3*

you get the jist, we're just goofy. Now imagine that dynamic, but with Dick Grayson!!! You grow up best friends, and you cannot deny that he's hot, you try to go out a little, and decide “Eww, I don't think I can see you that way” and just stay good friends. He needs a plus one to a gala? Never fear, his best friend is here! You both go together and just laugh in the corner making fun of all the rich people. You had a crappy day? Relax, Nightwing is already on his way with your favorite snack! (You know his secret by the way, kinda hard to keep it when you tell each other whatever is on your mind) You guys haven't seen each other in a long time? There's an arcade down the road from you that he'll meet you at, so what if it's 3 hours from his apartment? He's coming to see his friend damnit and no one is stopping him!

But as you can imagine, spending so much time with Dick means you get to know his family too. And oh my gosh is his brother is hot! And sooo well read compared to his brother, you guy's automatically click. You start hanging out together (Dick gets jealous that his best friend hangs out with his brother when he's not there) And you realize you start to feel something for Jason that's different than how you felt for Dick. Yeah, you care about dick and you want to know him for as long as you live but with Jason? You want to spend every minute you're alive with this man, from when you wake till you go to sleep. There's something that makes you think you'd willing die if it meant he'd be happy (you'd take a bullet for either of them though) I have no real words to describe it but yeah, you love dick as a friend but love Jason as a significant other. And he feels the same!

I'm almost done I swear! But I like to imagine you and Dick have a thing growing up where whenever either of you start to date someone, the other one meets the person of interest and tells them something along the lines of “If you hurt them in anyway, just remember that I know how to hide a body so they'll never find it.” (my dad used to do this with his friends) and then, when you and Jason start to date, dick pulls you aside and says “Listen, I know you're my friend, and I'd do anything for you. But Jason is my brother, and he's been through some unimaginable shit. So if you hurt him, I swear to God you will end up a missing person.” just, protective older brother Dick????

Anyways, this is crazy long. You don't have to write anything or post this (it's kinda embarrassing 😅) I just wanted to share these thoughts with you since we both have the same taste in men

Anyways, sorry for writing all this, hope you enjoy it though. Lot's of love! Peace out ✌️

P.S. here's you're crown because you really are a Queen

👑

Well this was pretty long but here what i got for you..

The undying love

Bff!Dick grayson x bf!jason todd x reader

Growing up with Dick Grayson as your best friend had always been an adventure. From childhood antics to navigating the complexities of adulthood, you shared a bond that transcended time and distance. Dick was not just a friend but a confidant, someone who knew your secrets and quirks like no other.

As the years passed, you and Dick developed a tradition whenever one of you started dating someone new. It was a blend of warning and jest, a testament to your deep friendship and protective instincts. "If you hurt them in any way," Dick would tell your dates with a playful glint in his eye, "just remember, I know how to hide a body." It was a blend of intimidation and humor, a reminder that his loyalty to you was unwavering.

When you and Jason Todd finally found each other in a way that transcended friendship, Dick's protective instincts kicked into overdrive. He pulled you aside one evening, his expression serious yet tinged with affection. "Listen," he began, his voice low but firm, "I know you're my friend, and I'd do anything for you. But Jason... he's my brother. He's been through hell and back, and he deserves happiness. Please don’t hurt him, he's too precious to me."

You nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of his words. Dick wasn't just being protective; he was laying bare the depth of his love for his brother and his trust in you.

Despite the initial awkwardness of exploring romantic feelings with Jason, your bond deepened swiftly. He was more than just handsome and well-read; Jason understood you in ways that went beyond words. Together, you found solace in shared silences and comfort in each other's presence.

When Dick needed a plus-one to a gala, you were there without hesitation. You laughed together in the corner, making light-hearted jabs at the extravagance around you. On days when you had a rough time, Nightwing—Dick's alter ego—appeared like a guardian angel with your favorite snacks in hand, a gesture that never failed to lift your spirits.

Secrets were shared freely between you and Dick, including his nighttime escapades as Nightwing. It was hard not to know when you spent so much time together, sharing everything from mundane details to deep-seated fears.

As your relationship with Jason blossomed, Dick's protective streak extended to both of you. He became a constant presence in your lives, offering advice, support, and sometimes playful teasing. Despite occasional jealousy over his brother stealing his best friend's time, Dick couldn't deny the genuine connection between you and Jason.

And amidst the laughter, late-night conversations, and shared adventures, you discovered a love for Jason that was different yet equally profound from your friendship with Dick. It was a love born of understanding, shared experiences, and a mutual desire to protect each other from the darkness that lurked in Gotham's shadows.

In the end, your relationship with Jason was a testament to the enduring bonds of friendship and the transformative power of love. With Dick by your side, as both friend and protective older brother figure, you navigated the complexities of Gotham's underworld and found a love that was as deep as it was unexpected.

Together, the three of you forged a bond that surpassed boundaries and defied expectations—a bond built on trust, loyalty, and a shared commitment to each other's happiness and well-being. And in the heart of Gotham City, where heroes and legends clashed in an eternal battle of light and darkness, you found your place alongside Jason Todd and Dick Grayson—a place where love and friendship intertwined in ways that were as extraordinary as they were enduring.

☆ i hope you like it ☆

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