#it was fine and suddenly it was gone ;-; dunno why

[optimist-pine]

Mercy

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Animal death

Summary: Daryl watches you hunt and he's left with a question he can't answer.

Era: Season 2, the farm

A/n: Haha this was supposed to be fluff under the title Archer. It's flangst now... Whoopsie.

     Daryl doesn't know what drives him to do it. Maybe it's simply boredom. More likely though, it's his growing desire to learn - to study you, study your technique. Maybe he's already impressed and all that's left is to see you in action.

     That's how he finds himself following you into the woods on this freshly arrived morning. He keeps his distance but it's not very difficult to keep track of you, your pace and direction consistent and reliable. When you do stop he finds himself watching with rapt attention.

     The way you wait is as reverent as a prayer. Your stance never shifting, arms steady and strong, posture perfect. Images of those ancient marble sculptures cross his mind, their bodies crafted into fine-tuned instruments. If he didn't know better, he'd say that the forest has gone still; nothing - not even the breeze - makes a move. The world has gone quiet, like even the animals are holding their breath.

     Then your arrow flies and the earth returns to life in full force, that is, everything except for one rabbit who has become quite still. Your arrow has pierced its eye with extreme precision, but he's not surprised. Every piece of game you've ever brought back has been taken down that exact same way.

     You collect the rabbit, removing and cleaning your arrow before continuing on deeper into the woods. Daryl doesn't mean to follow, but something spurs him onward. He's never really cared much for art, but if that's what you are, call him a damn aficionado. He's fascinated. 

     It takes a little while, but you suddenly pause. He spots the reason why - a large gray squirrel clings to the bark of a nearby tree, tail twitching. You take aim, graceful and smooth. But then, like last time, you hold your stance for one breath, then a second, and suddenly the squirrel quirks its head and bolts. He expects you to show at least some disappointment, but you simply let down your bow and continue on.

     This happens a few more times; you find your prey, ready your bow, and then wait. Sometimes you loose your arrow and other times you practically allow the animal to get away. This time you have your aim trained on a rather large rabbit, probably a buck. It turns, ready to run, and Daryl can tell you aren't going to shoot this one, so he does. As soon as his bolt hits its target your entire body pivots.

     He immediately finds himself at the business end of your bow, but the sharpness of your glare currently feels like the larger threat. "Are you following me?" You ask, lowering your weapon. The glare remains, although it seems to be softening.

     You'll know he's lying if he says he isn't, but he doesn't want to admit that he is. "Why d'yuh wait, when ya got'um in your sights?" He blurts out.

     You place the arrow back in your quiver with a sigh. "You are following me."

     "Jus' curious." He shrugs.

     You look up to the sky. "Dunno... Don't like killing things." Your gaze lands on the dead rabbit laying a little ways away. "Figure I'll give 'em one last chance to keep on livin'."

     He lets out a snort. Hunting is a way to secure a meal, not some moralistic nonsense. "So, yer like a damn fairytale princess or somethin'?" He asks. "Bes' friends wi'the woodland creatures an'all that?" He waves his hands around for emphasis.

     Your face hardens. "It'd be different if we really needed the food." You say sternly, turning to stalk away, back towards the farm. He grabs the now-joined rabbit and bolt and jogs after you, but you're moving at a surprisingly quick clip, dodging branches and roots with ease.

     When he's nearly caught up, you stop suddenly and he barely avoids plowing straight into you. You whip around to face him and he instinctively takes a step back. But you're not angry, at least not in the way that he was expecting. He'd been prepared for a slap in the face, not the deep sadness in your eyes. "Feels like some sorta mercy I guess." You say quietly.

     He doesn't feel bad about what he said, but your answer catches him off guard. The world is as cruel and as harsh as it's ever been. It doesn't care who lives and who dies, and it sure as hell isn't handing out second chances. "Not much'a that goin' around righ' now." He replies solemnly.

     "I don't wanna turn into someone who loses that." Your voice is soft and almost pleading and it pulls at something buried within him.

     With a jolt he's thrown into his own past. He knows what that loss does to a person, how much of his life he's spent terrified of becoming that. You're beginning to make a little more sense now. "Yuh, won't." He assures.

---

     As time passes, when you do desperately need the food and mercy is barely a reality, Daryl finds himself fighting to protect yours. When the two of you hunt, he insists you take point, that you stick to the way you did things that day at the farm. He'll be right behind you, your backup, he'll do what you shouldn't have to. That part of you - that's something that can't afford to ever be lost. He'll do everything in his power to see to that.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd season 2 #optimist pine

[nautilusopus]

okay FIIIIIINE i'll throw my hat into the Goncharov ring

Been a while i've done a proper movie breakdown, may as well be this one.

Rather surprisingly (but perhaps not too surprisingly given the unexpected renaissance of things like the original Dracula and Breaking Bad on this website out of seemingly nowhere and with very little prompting), I'm seeing a lot of new people suddenly interested in Martin Scorsese's seminal film classic Goncharov, originally released in 1973. Obviously a movie like that doesn't make it coming up on 50 years without generating a lot of discussion about the different ways the movie resonates and why, but coming into it in 2022 there's been so much cultural cruft that's collected around Goncharov that (similar to stories like Fight Club and Scarface) it's a little hard to parse what it's actually about with all the mythologising that's gone on around the characters.

Those movies, in one way or another, are about portraying the downfall of their protagonists -- Fight Club's after ironically creating another system of control and dehumanisation and becoming what he sought to destroy, Scarface's after being consumed by the wealth and power he's amassed. A lot of people assume it's that kind of story, because aren't most well-loved movies? However, I think this is ironically an assumption made because of the genre of film it is. All the people that aren't going, "OMG Goncharov is so cool and badass and fucks bitches," are going, "WOW I can't believe Goncharov is a cautionary tale about power corrupting," and in the process people miss that Goncharov is first and foremost about loss, in all its different forms.

I'm both kind of surprised and frustrated people miss this, given how utterly pervasive the movie is with its clock symbolism -- it's the one thing everyone remembers about it, it was in all the tie-ins. I dunno, maybe that got funneled back into the theory where they're meant to reinforce how Goncharov is just a mortal man at the end of the day, which is fine I guess, but the movie overall becomes a lot clearer when you interpret it through the lens of, "These things are gone and you can never get them back; clocks don't go backwards."

One of the most fascinating things about the movie is how every character embodies a different kind of loss. I'm gonna ease into this and start not with Goncharov but with:

Rybak, who is usually associated with loss as we typically think of it, i.e. the loss of loved ones via death. This comes up all the time, either in his trust issues (why he's being such a prick at the wedding), in the card game (he never bothers to bet much money, knowing he's bad at poker, and still loses all the same). Rybak is terrified of loss, cannot manage it, and ultimately is punished by losing what few people he had left and then being spared by Lorenzo who deems him punished enough, and is forced to survive, to grapple with what his life is now without them.

Goncharov's is actually more subtle, and it's loss of small, insignificant things as a result of the larger losses he believes he's processed. This is something that's frequently contrasted against Rybak. The pawn shop going under is actually a microcosm of this whole thing. Goncharov anticipates that this is obviously going to lead to financial issues for him, plans accordingly to deal with this, and... it works! He's saved! Except that means card games can't be hosted at his place anymore, given it's burned to the ground. Does this matter, in the grand scheme of his life? No, of course not. Poker night still gets had all the same. But it is different now, and always will be. Little things like this continue to add up, until something as insignificant as a towel -- a towel that never should have been in his room, but Sofia is no longer there to drop off his laundry and chat with him -- is ultimately the final nail in a coffin built of insignificant splinters, each one an imperceptible change underneath the much more larger, noticeable story beats of things like grief.

Otto is the big obvious one I'm not gonna linger on: loss of his youth, moments in the past that he wants to redo but can't. Most people at least seem to have gotten this one.

(This is also what the clocks get associated with a lot, which again, doesn't NOT make sense but also if it were just for this one character that, while thematically important, was honestly just a side character with limited screentime and only two scenes, would they really be all over the movie before Otto's name is even mentioned?)

Sofia's a bit abstract, and is the loss of self -- of the familiar anchors we have to who we are, what we think our core principles are, our place in society, who we want to be to our loved ones -- and by the time she dies she is rendered utterly unrecognisable to herself, and is horrified by it. She grieves herself the same way Rybak grieves his wife (even gets a direct visual callback via the way her face is lit when she's burning Lorenzo's check). You see echoes of this in Goncharov as well, but while Sofia is grieving the person she used to be, Goncharov is grieving the world around him (even though really, it's the same world it always was -- time keeps ticking on, one second per second, and neither one of them can ever un-fire that gun).

Lorenzo, tragically, gradually loses his freedom (and maybe in a parallel world would actually be the protagonist of a movie where he chokes on his own hubris like everyone seems to think Goncharov is GRUMBLE GRUMBLE). As he comes into his own more and more by his family's legacy, he is afforded fewer and fewer options about what decisions he can even make. Arguably he was doomed from the start, but the further he clings to power as a means to freedom, the more it drives him to destroying everything he ever (thought he) cared about. The tragedy of his character, and what makes him a good villain, is that he can clearly see what he is doing to himself and he absolutely hates it (his walking out early at the wedding is a tacit admission of this), but his absolute refusal to accept loss, to accept grief and pain and all the awful shit that comes with the human condition, is what causes him to toss aside every out he has because if he has enough CONTROL over his situation, surely he will never have to lose anything ever again. But, really, he already has.

I dunno. Goncharov is one of those movies that is great, and everyone seems to realise it's great, but nobody ever really puts into words why, and that's how you get Fight Club fans lmao. And it sucks because the actual discussion around the movie beyond "it's another hubris story but REALLY GOOD guys" is so much more fascinating and a much more earnest emotional truth that just never gets talked about.

#goncharov #goncharov (1973) #martin scorsese #al pacino #robert di niro #gene hackman #harvey keitel #gaslight gatekeep goncharov

[kangnina]

MDNI - BabyDaddy!Jake 4

Jake Masterlist

Now Playing - "Stay with Me" by Punch x Chanyeol

Jake and Sophia are singing along to one of her favorite movies as you prepare an afternoon snack for her. For all of your stubbornness in rejecting his marriage proposals, Jake stays the course of spoiling both of you. He spends more time at your house than his own. Preparing the nursery. Attending doctor visits. Tea time and play dates with Princess Sophia. Satisfying all of your late night cravings, whether it’s food or just Jake himself. To an outsider, it would seem as though you two are already married. The expected delivery date is still a few months away but you know it’s only a matter of time before he asks you again. You’re lost in your thoughts when you suddenly feel dizzy. The glass bowl of fruit slips from your hands as the room spins. You hear the shatter just before everything suddenly goes black.

When you wake up, Jake’s head is resting on your hospital bed, next to your leg as he sleeps. You gently pat his hair and he lifts his head sleepily, looking at you. “How are you feeling?” he asks, picking up your hand and kissing it. 

“I don't know what happened. I was fine…and then… Are we okay?” you say, rubbing your belly.

“Yes, the baby is okay. The doctor said your blood pressure was high but it’s gone down some. We just need to be mindful of it from here on out.” You nod your head as you reach for the cup of water on your bedside cart. Jake grabs it and puts the straw to your mouth. You take a few sips.

“Sophia?” you ask. 

“With Jay.” You sit back, closing your eyes. Exhausted.

“I was so scared.” Jake whispers, squeezing your hand. 

“I’m still scared,” you admit. “I always have been.” You open your eyes to look at Jake. “Why are you still here?”

“What?” Jake looks at you bewildered. Completely confused. “Why– What kind of question is that? I think whatever meds they gave you is making you silly. Please rest, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He kisses your hand again.

“You only want to marry me because of Sophia. So no one can call you a ‘deadbeat dad.’”

“What are you talking about? I want to marry you because I love you. And then you gave me Sophia. Which makes me love you even more. You know I’d do anything for both of you. Now there is another little girl on the way. I’m totally outnumbered here,” he laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

“But you never say ‘I love you.’” Jake looks away. He runs a hand through his hair and it falls perfectly back around his handsome face. 

“Do you really not remember? I used to say it. But you wouldn't say it back to me,” Jake sighs, sitting back in his chair. “I’ve been told that I can’t make you love me the way I desire and deserve. It really hurt to hear that. But I needed to hear it... Am I ever going to stop asking you to marry me? I dunno. But regardless of how you feel about me, I need my daughters to know that I do love their mother. I would never ever do anything to make any of you feel unloved or unappreciated.” When Jake finally looks at you again, you feel like a piece of shit as your tears begin to fall. 

“I– I’m sorry. I’m a terrible mom if Sophia ever thinks that I don’t care about you.” Jake stands up to hug you and strokes your hair, kissing your head. He grabs a few tissues from a tissue box and wipes your tears

“Baby, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Just rest. We need you to get better. Don’t stress yourself out. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I love you. Please don’t cry.” He continues hugging you until your tears begin to subside. “Are you hungry? You must be. You haven’t eaten in hours. I’ll get the nurse.”

“Jake, I love you.”

Jake leans over to kiss your forehead. Then your cheek and then your lips. “I love you too.” He's smiling so hard. It reminds you of the day Sophia was born. He was so happy, he cried. You know he’s absolutely right. Sophia has never felt unloved and neither have you. Somewhere along the line you lost your appreciation for this sweet man. “Let’s get married.”

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

@snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark @wildflowermooon

#jaeyun sim #sim jaeyun #sim jake #jake sim #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun scenarios #jaeyun imagines #jaeyun fluff #jaeyun x reader #jaeyun smut #enhypen jaeyun #enha #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha fluff #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen jake #enhypen soft hours #enhypen smut #enha soft hours #enha soft thoughts #enha au #enha jake #jake enhypen #jake smut #jake x reader #jake scenarios

[pure-oddity]

Worth the Trouble

Simon/Ghost x Mean!fem!Reader

Warnings: slightly toxic? Reader is verbally mean and ghost Def manipulates the situation so he can have the missus come see him. PiV , Smut MDNI

“Heard LTs lost it, goin around on a rampage.”

“Just about near it. Price thinks he's injured and trying to downplay it. Won't tell him much aside from ‘I'm fine’. Hell for all we know hes just got a man-cold”

“Ach, the poor bastard”

Gaz snorts and continues with the next set, Soap checks for signs of struggle or strain before continuing (a dutiful gym buddy)

“Heard he blew some recruits ear out.”

“Think he backed out entirely, can't blame him - if I weren't already knee deep in this shit I'd tuck tail and run from Ghost”

“You n me both. Well. I did always have a taste for trouble. Probably woulda sought him out and he mighta strangled me.” he muses happily imagining his Lt tossing him around.

“Surprised he hasn't already “ gaz laughs, his eyes determined through the final pushes.

Soap laughs at that, thinks his lt has gotten close once or twice.

“Don't worry much about it though” gaz grunts.

Soap meets gaz's eye, watches a bead of sweat trickle down into his hair line.

“Why not?”

“Captain says he's calling in the secret weapon. Going nuclear.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Johnny questions, thinks of what could possibly be nuclear in regards to Ghost.

“Dunno. But I guess we'll find out.” Gaz finishes, setting the bar back in place and sitting up with a groan. He gives a sniff to his shirt and audibly gags.

“Yea that's rank, you wanna hit the showers?”

“Sayin I stink Garrick?”

“Sayin we should hit the showers”

“Cheeky cunt”

Soap follows his fellow Sargent to freshen up in the shower block, a stealthy sniff to his armpit solidifying his choice in joining.

The issue of the ornery Lieutenant momentarily forgotten.

—----------

He always knew price had an easy time with the ladies, but to parade one around so freely - a young woman at that?

“Well well, did price finally let you out his basement? I knew he had a pretty bird caged away somewhere!”

He reaches out a rugged palm and his smile is all boyish charm.

“Names Soap, nice to meet you bonnie”

She doesn't respond and doesn't move to shake his hand. Her arms remain seated within pockets of the leather jacket she adorns. Just continues to chew a wad of gum, sizing him up like one would an enemy. She looks bored, mildly annoyed.

He can't feel too upset over the snuff, the ample amount of cleavage on display makes up for it.

“Not the sociable type? No problem, work with one of those - I'll break you down”

She looks at price now, who - soaps noticing - looks like he swallowed a lemon laced with depression.

“MacTavish. This young lady is not my bird - lovely as she is - but she is the solution to our problem.”

For once Soap is speechless. Realization kicking in suddenly and with a force so strong his jaw drops.

“.....is that why he's pissed?? Lads gone without a bit of pussy and he's lost the plot? “

“MacTavish”

“Just sayin! Sorry lass, don't mean to be crude” he does mean to be crude actually. He is crude, but usually he waits till the second date before parading that fact around.

“......let's just get this over with. Fuckin bullshit for you to pull me out here. again” She grosses, looking miffed.

“Right, yes. Again, I do sincerely apologize- I wouldn't if I had another option”

“You're his captain, just order the fucker to act right” She scolds him, dissaproval evident in how she sizes him up.

“Unfortunately my lieutenant is a master of malicious compliance. Sweet as sugar with me, but a menace to anyone else.”

She sighs something resigned and annoyed. He watches as she blows a small bubble and pops it with a sharp click. Her brows scrunched and nose wrinkled into a sneer.

“Are…are you actually here to - do I get something like this if I start throwing a fit?!”

He eyes the woman next to his captain as she walks past him, seemingly familiar with the layout of the building.

“MacTavish. Shut up.”

“Yes sir.”

A brief pause

“Is it cause he's a lieutenant? Do I need to be a lieutenant?”

“Give me 50 Sargent MacTavish “

“Yes sir.”

He drops quickly and works through the 50, counting quickly before springing back up and towards the direction his captain and mystery woman left. He catches up to the tail end of their conversation.

“-he won't come out”

“really. Have you tried, I don't know, kicking the door in?”

“No. A bit extreme don't you think?”

He watches as she walks to the door, examines it, and he thinks ‘no, no way’. Watches as she turns and braces herself against the doorframe and thinks ‘Oh she's insane’ as she picks her foot up and slams it back against the door with a solid thump.

She gets 4 in, he notices the damage to the door grows steadily - the odd tinge of arousal at the unhinged behavior of this woman.

Feels his stomach drop to his knees when the door is thrust open and she's dragged inside the darkness.

The door is hardly shut when the screaming begins.

His captain waits patiently while he looks towards him and the door.

His LT is loud but she's managed to be louder. He can't make much out from how fast everything is said, muffled through the slightly askew door

“-acting like a fucking toddler!”

While this isn't his particular brand of dirty talk, he supposes it makes sense for the ghost to want a heavier hand.

Too heavy, it would seem. The loud thump is jarring, enough so that he springs towards the door. Price grabs him, handles him into his side with a fierce look and a sternly mouthed ‘no’

The screaming had stopped. The silence is deafening. Johnny thinks at least one of them is dead. A woman that crazy probably wouldn't go down that easy, even against a ghost.

His body flinches when the door opens, he expects a limp hand to flop out horror movie style- heavily surprised to find the lass perfectly intact, not a hair out of place.

He peeks in the open doorway to see Ghost knelt in a way that can only be described at revenant. He sits at her feet, face pressed to her stomach while he clutches her body to him. she has a hand on each of his shoulders and glares down like an angry God.

“We'll be in the infirmary captain, he's got an infection. Stupid fuck.” She slips from Ghosts grasp with some struggle, swatting at clutching hands as she commands him “up”

Ghost, much like his namesake,rises like the dead and slinks out of the shadows of his room and into the light. He looks, oddly pleased(downright giddy) for a guy just pronounced a ‘stupid fuck’.

He watches as the fury marches towards the medbay, her hellhound shadow tight on her heels - might have even carried her if she didn't look as rabid as she did.

“Captain?”

“That's Doll, Johnny. Ghosts leash, and Simon's keeper. Try to annoy her less yea? She sends ghost after you and there'll be fuck all I can do to stop him.”

“Heard…..doll? Really? I think of a doll, I think sweet and porcelain. Not, pissy with a heavy heaping of crazy. She looks like the type to cut brake lines.”

“Yea well, just don't let her know which car is yours and you'll be fine.”

“Sure she won't just cut them all?”

He sighs, something heavy and worn.

“I'm hoping she's forgotten where we keep them.”

—-------

“Hi just him today, thanks.”

“Oh um, and you are?” Doctor Nicole has seen a lot. Hasn't seen this yet. Might see more if spouses were more common on base.

“Im his voice currently. And his brain. He's not smart enough to use either on his own to tell you about his infection. Left leg, by the way.”

“Oh well. Oh. Um. I - I'll have you hop up on the bed then lieutenant! I'll take a look and. And fix that.”

He doesn't move, stares at the woman(his voice and brain, apparently) like she's the only one in the room - in the world.

His world groans and throws her head back - he chuffs.

“Listen to the fucking doctor , on the bed. Now.”

His steps are heavy and solid as he seats himself on the edge of the bed. Thighs spread and hands limp between his legs. He looks like a hunched beast eyeing his next meal.

The doctor finds that having her keep his attention is better than having it herself.

“Well. Uh, left you said?”

“Yeah. Calf area - knife probably? Something sharp.”

“Well then, uh , lieutenant? Are you able to, to roll your pant leg up for me to see? Or is the pain too severe?” she prods gently, he doesn't respond.

“Roll up your pants.” like a marionette with strings tightly wrapped around her fingers, he moves to roll up his jeans to reveal the sickly wound.

“Oh yeah definitely an infection. Odd for you lieutenant, usually you're better at catching this.”

The woman scoffs and slumps in her seat. He leans towards her as she sends him a scathing look.

“He's a fucking man child. Threw a tantrum to get what he wanted and now he's being pampered.”

“Mhm.” The affirmation is the most sound he's made since coming in here.

“Well I'll just. I'll just get this taken care of” Nicole stumbles put, feeling like an intruder.

“ ‘Priciate that doc. Don't be afraid to make it hurt.” Her tone is tinged with sadistic hope.

“Oh I. I'd never intentionally hurt someone under my care - that's unethical “ the military may not be the most ethical, but she's damn sure going to try to be.

“Pity. He'd deserve it, letting it get this bad-willingly might I add.” She snips at him , face scrunched.

He hums something delighted, and the doctor wonders if she should order a psych evaluation. Remembers the 141 are notorious for dodging said evals and dismisses the thought entirely.

If he likes when women are mean and degrade him, that's his business.

He sits still, moving only when told by the woman in the chair who's now playing on her phone.

He stares at her intently, glares at the phone occasionally. The doctor finishes quickly, grateful that the infection was only in its earliest of stages.

“Okay so I'm prescribing a round of antibiotics, I noticed that you have an allergy to penicillin so I'm giving you doxycycline." She writes the perscriptipn down quickly, grabs a bottle stocked preemptively for cases like this.

"Take it with a meal twice a day every 12 hours until the bottle is empty. Come back within a few days just to make sure it's progressing and then again when the bottle is empty.” She types in a quick series of notes notating the lieutenants upcoming appointments.

“He'll be here. I'll make sure of it” there's a bitter edge to the woman's words, the doctor wonders how anyone could stand to be with someone so angry.

“God I hope you do” ghost groans out, threat either going over his head or straight to his crotch.

The doctor flinches, forgetting the lieutenant capable of speech.

“Well thanks for the help. I'll be getting him back to his captain.” the woman hops up and walks towards the door.

“Oh uh, have a g-good one!”

She smiles politely, drops it quickly when she eyes the once again silent wraith behind her

“Let's go, it would be rude to make your captain wait.”

He nods and follows along after her, like a deformed elongated shadow.

An odd couple, the doctor muses. But not the oddest she's seen. Not even the weirdest.

Another soldier bursts in, she hears the words ‘snake bite’ and ‘penis’, wishes she was stuck back with the ghost and his guide.

—-------

“You alright then, lieutenant? Everything sorted?”

“Affirmative sir. I've got the prescription, doc cleaned me up and changed my bandage. “

“Good. Thank you for coming, Doll.”

“He only acts like this because you let him, you know.”

“I do. But sometimes it's easier to go along the path of least resistance. Trying to argue with a stubborn mut, or handle the fury of his actual commanding officer? I'll take you anyday love.” He finishes with a purr, noting the sudden tenseness in Ghosts shoulders.

“Careful, might put thoughts in a girl's head if you keep talking like that.” She notices too, but eggs the poor lieutenant on - smile a touch cruel.

“Oh? That all it takes? Not a fan of Mactavish then?” semi-joking now. He'd be a liar if he said having a pretty woman snark up at him didn't effect him at all.

“Prefer waking up with mouthful of English breakfast personally. Speaking of-” She turns towards ghost, her face still cold and indifferent as always.

“I'll be in your room. I'll only be here another hour and then I'm gone. Why don't you see if your captain can find it in his heart to dismiss you early”

She smiles something sharp and sinful, takes off in a run that makes Ghost body jolt - he looks like a junkyard dog choking himself on the end of his lead trying to get a bone just out of reach.

“Captain. May I be dismissed.”

“Well-”

“Captain.”

“Simon”

“Captain price, may I please be dismissed, sir”

There's a desperate edge john isn't used to. Something rabid, something hungry. A darkness kept caged wriggling through iron bars.

“dismissed, lieutenant “

The ghost breaks off into a sprint, and the hunt is on. Price can't think too much about how it ends, his trousers already too tight at his twinge of interest.

Similar shades of fucked up, the both of them.

—----

He's panting in your ear, groaning as his hips slap against and bruise your ass.

“fu-fuck. Come on, give it to me. Show me you're- fuck! Show me you're worth all the fuckin trouble - Oh god, simon!” You can't help but scream, hope he doesn't have neighbors.

His pace is mind-numbingly good, making up for the dry start in the beginning. Prepped just enough to fit him but not enough for the ache to be avoided. But he knows your body thoroughly , and with a few well aimed thrusts and a circles of your clit you're dripping down your own AND his thighs.

A mess on his bedsheets - he thinks of it as a present for later, you think you spoil him.

He fucks you like an animal, unhinged and hurried- like he's worried you'll get up and leave, worried you'll realize he's not worth the trouble.

He pins you further under his weight and changes the angle - groans at your wail of ecstasy .

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! You - you better not pull this shit again. I - I let you keep this fuckin job -please don't stop- let you play hero but -oh god, oh god - but don't-”

You gasp, moan something pained and drawn out as you come again along his rigid cock - muffling a scream into his pillow as he grinds up into the sensitive spots in your cunt to draw your orgasm out further.

“k-keep this shit up toy soldier, see how quick I put you back in the box!” You snarl , glaring at him over your shoulder. He groans deep and slams as deep as he can, unloading against the deepest parts of your hole.

He's still hard when he slips from you, wrangling you onto your back before slipping back in. Your legs fit nicely on his shoulders, and you're grateful for your flexibility.

You scoff. “can't cum lookin at a skull , switch to another one or take it off - might have a chance of getting me off then” you wonder how mean he'll be, wonder if he'll actually stop to find a different mask.

Dont have wonder long as he's quick to throw the whole thing off. The black grease around his eyes is streaked from the sweat - hair plastered to his forhead. He looks happy to see you.

“not - not bad! Might be worth all this after- after-after!” You buffer aloud. Like a skipping record, you'd be humiliated if it didn't feel as good as it does.

In fact. You should be mad at his constant interruptions, but he's persistent on fucking through your cunt and into your brain.

“Tell me. Tell me dolly. Tell me sweet heart. I'm worth the trouble, yeah? I'm your trouble right? Gonna keep coming back, keep coming on my cock?” He says it like he doesn't exist somewhere in your rib cage nearest to your heart. Like you don't already live in his.

“Yes, yes!” You promise, the one you will die before you break.

“Yes what?" He implores, a steady chant of 'keep me, keep me, keep me' running through his head.

“To all of it you fuck! Yes! All mine, my cock, my headache, my brute - fuck!” your own mind proclaiming that you'll keep him 'forever, forever, forever"

You're crying now, overstimulated tears as your thighs quiver on his shoulders.

“Yeah. Yeah. All yours, n' you're mine. All fuckin mine. Not Prices and not fuckin Johnnys” he snarls, bitter and possessive.

“Gotta act up, gotta cause a mess. Can't get you here otherwise. “ he continues, pace consistent to further along your impending ruin.

It's getting hard to keep up with the banter. Hate how he's still capable of talking while you're becoming goo.

“J-just fuckin wait till you're off deployment! Fuck!”

“Nu-uh, get too tight n mean when I do. Have to drag you here to give you your fix so you're sweet when I get home. You're my sweet girl right?” He coos mockingly.

You don't respond. too busy clawing red ribbons into his back.

“Right?” He punches your cervix now, enough to make you choke and bite into the meat of his shoulder.

You bite hard. Harder when he moans. You lick at the indents and nose into the hammering pulse at his neck.

You can tells he's close with how his tempo gets thrown off, how his huffs louder. Having forgiven him for making you drive all this way, you give the dog a well earned bone.

“Yours, your sweet girl. You just need to work for it a bit hm? You don't mind huh big guy? My big guy?” You whisper into his ear, whine into it in a way you know drives him crazy.

He comes with a shout, one you know the whole fucking base heard. You're too fucked out to care much, especially when the brute lakes down and settles his weight on you with a contented sigh.

He hums, a touch demanding and you roll your eyes. You rub a hand gently up and down his torn back, scratching gently at his scalp to feel his heavy sigh of contentment.

“You gonna take care of yourself now? Got everything out your system?”

He hums, tone non-committal - fucker. As long as price has your number, as long as the ghost stays restless - you'll be called in eventually. Not a matter of 'if', but 'when".

Thankfully you don't mind being the nuclear option. Not much anyway. Especially if this is what it gets you. A moment of peace, skin pressed against skin - soft breaths evening out against your collarbone.

'Yea', you think. 'He's worth the trouble.'

(End notes: the thump that was heard was actually Simon falling to his knees. Dude goes from 0-100 when it comes to love so he either ghosts(hehe) you or worships you.)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #odd stories #simon riley smut #simon likes them a lil mean #it makes fucking them sweet taste better #also he just seems the type to enjoy letting some snippy little thing boss him around a lil #just a lil #fem reader

[mintmatcha]

cw: implied mental illness/substance abuse references

Denki jams his tongue into his cheek as he types, folding his gum in half before popping it between his teeth. The action is repeated: squish, snap, squish, snap-- unmuted by his open mouth. The waves and all their static do nothing to cover the sound of it; the sand was abandoned long before sunset, but the ocean is never quiet.

Suddenly, Denki sits up, looking to you as if he just remembered you exist.

"Shit, you hate that sound, don't you?" He swallows hard and you know the piece of gum is gone, "My bad."

"It's okay."

"I'm just really trying to quit smoking."

"I know."

He stares at you for a long while, then sighs. He drags his finger through the sand, peeling away layers of dry to reveal the darker, wet below. Weight has filled out his cheeks and middle in ways that you know he hates, but it looks so much healthier than he's even been.

"Everyone hated when I smelled like cigarettes apparently," Denki says, trying to laugh, "It sucks that no one told me that I stunk all the time."

Everyone is code for the girl he keeps texting, one one that lights his screen up with pretty pink hearts and messages that make his eyes glimmer. She texts again, a soft yet unrelenting force.

"I liked it." The horizon is dotted with lights, blinking against the surf. They follow their own pattern, blinking arrhythmically with each other against the surf, "It just smelled like you to me."

"Do you..." Denki rubs the back of his neck, "I dunno, do you really miss all that?"

All that includes too much. The peaks, the lows. Before his medications were balanced and before he quit partying, when neither of you had any control over your lives.

"No," you say, and you mean it, "But I miss knowing things about you."

"You know me." Denki's phone buzzes again, "I'm still me."

"I know."

"I'm still your Kaminari."

"I know."

He isn't. He no longer stops for a pack of cigarettes and a row of Hi-Chew every night. He no longer responds to your texts or reaches out first. It's been months since he last passed out on your bathroom floor, months since he asked you if you were alright.

His hair is shorter than he's ever liked it.

A horn goes off in the distance: a ship rolling into port.

"I don't know what to do with you," Denki sighs, "Did you not want me to get better? Because it feels like you didn't want me to."

He waits only a second for you before sighing again.

"Why did you ask me to come here?"

Because you missed him. Because you need a friend. Because you've always come when he's called.

All you even wanted was for him to be okay.

"I just didn't think getting better would mean I'd lose you."

"You didn't-" His phone goes off again, humming and buzzing harder. He scrambles to pick it up, pushing on to his feet. "Fuck, I really gotta take this."

"It's fine."

"I'll be right back."

"It's fine."

He answers and calls her baby with all the warmth and welcome he used to have for you. She's the one he goes to when the waters are calm and life is easy. You are the port in a storm, the one holding an umbrella until the rain passes.

You leave your sneakers there and walk the shore, the lace foam clinging to your socks and salt licking at your jeans. After fifteen minutes, he calls you once. You wait for a text or second try, but it doesn't come.

When you cry, it's from the bottom of the gut, ripping up like bile. The sound is swallowed by the sea.

[pitviperofdoom]

Jongerry prompt: reunion after one thought the other was dead?

Tim wasn’t sure what to make of the guy. 

They met in an awkward almost-collision at the institute’s front door, Tim rearing back in surprise, the other flinching away from the sudden movement. He was lanky, and probably would’ve been tall without the permanent slouch to his spine. His hair was a dull shade of mousy brown, and looked like it had been hacked short with kitchen scissors. His clothes hung loose and ill-fitting on his body. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

Tim took a wild guess. “Here to make a statement?” he asked.

The man grimaced. “Maybe later.”

“I’d make it quick if I were you,” Tim chuckled, holding the door open for him. “Jon was in a good mood before lunch, and those don’t tend to last long.”

Halfway through the door, the man froze. “Who?”

“Jon Sims, the head archivist,” Tim said carefully. “He’s the one who takes statements, so…”

“Oh.” The man’s face was blank. “He’s… that’s… down in the archives, yeah?”

“I can show you how to get there?” Tim offered. Whatever statement this guy had, it must have been rough.

"Sure, thanks," the guy said distractedly.

In spite of the accepted offer, the guy quickly pulled ahead, and Tim found himself trailing behind as the scruffy stranger led the way to the basement stairs. Before long, he was jogging to keep up.

That was why, when the man suddenly stopped at the top of the steps, Tim crashed straight into his back.

"Hey, what did you—"

A hand closed tight around his arm, stopping him from shouldering past. The man had gone still, staring intently down the steps. There was nothing to see except the bottom of the stairs, and the mouth of the hallway that led to the archives.

"Smell that?"

Confused, Tim sniffed. At first all he could smell was dust and old paper, but then, beneath it, as if carried on a draft, came a familiar musty, wet stench.

"Damn worms," He muttered. "We've had a bit of an infestation—dunno if you saw them on your way in—"

"I'm gonna need you to shut up and go back outside," the man interrupted. "Maybe pull the fire alarm on your way out, get everyone out of the building."

"Excuse me?" Tim demanded. The man was already releasing him and moving on, so Tim grabbed him before he could make it two more steps. "Hey, what the hell are you—"

"Listen." The man turned, deftly winching his arm out of Tim’s grip. "I have had a very long day. I was hoping it would end with a long shower, a change of clothes, and a minimum twenty-minute hug from someone who means the world to me. Instead, there's something very nasty down there that I need to deal with. Kindly piss off."

Tim's blood ran cold. "You—you mean Prentiss is—" He stopped. He had a million questions, but maybe just this once they could wait. "My friends are down there."

The man spared a moment to look, if possible, even more exhausted than before. "Great. Fine. Stay close and don't fuck me."

***

Tim's head swam with the gas. His body felt strangely detached as he heaved the fire extinguisher against the wall, again and again until he felt the plasterboard give way. His strange companion drew back as if preparing to do a run-up, and Tim hurled himself into the space and finally broke through.

His first view into the dimly lit storage room was of three familiar faces with varying levels of shock, alarm, and growing relief.

"Hey, guys!" Tim gasped out.

Sasha was already struggling to her feet; Tim was about to go in for a hug when he was roughly shoved out of the way. A gas canister landed on the floor with a heavy thunk as the stranger lurched his way past Tim.

A strangled cry broke the shocked silence, and it took Tim a moment to realize it had come from Jon. His friend was sitting on the floor, propped up against a stack of boxes, one leg wrapped in bloodstained bandages. He stared at the man in blank, silent shock.

The stranger moved as if to lunge, but stopped when Jon held up a shaking hand.

"Wait." Jon's voice broke. He was fumbling something out of his pocket, wincing when the movement jarred his leg. "Wait, just—" 

"Mmhm," the man said in a strangled voice, fidgeting but staying where he was.

Jon finally wrestled his wallet out of his pocket, ripped it open, and pulled out a photo—a Polaroid? His eyes flickered between it and the man standing over him.

The wallet fell to the floor. With a sudden burst of energy, Jon heaved himself upright, and managed to stand for all of a second before his leg gave out and sent him pitching forward. The man caught him before he could fall and yanked him into a hug.

"What the fuck, Gerry," Jon choked out.

Sasha was eyeballing Tim frantically, but all Tim could do was shrug back.

"I'm sorry," the man—Gerry—mumbled, face buried in the side of Jon's neck.

"I thought—she told me that you—" Jon stared blankly over Gerry's shoulder, looking at the others without seeing them. "Where have you been?"

"Couple of hunters picked up our trail in the woods in Pennsylvania," Gerry answered. "We split up. They caught me. Didn't kill me, just… didn't let me leave either. Sorry I didn't contact you right when I escaped, I just—I was afraid I'd get your hopes up and get killed on the way home."

In the silence that followed, Martin let out a strangled "Um."

Jon jumped, and his teary eyes focused back on them. "Oh. Right. Er." He tried to pull back, without much success since Gerry was the only thing keeping him upright. "E-everyone, this is Gerry."

"You just finished telling us he was dead," said Sasha.

"Yes, well." Jon managed a watery smile. "I've been wrong before."

"We had a moment about it."

"Right." Without warning, Gerry reached down and swung Jon up into his arms in a bridal carry, ignoring Jon's squawk of protest. "Let's go. We can talk later—and we will be talking later—"

"Gerry!"

"Seriously, I turn around and you're fighting the Corruption with fire extinguishers, and you're the bloody Archivist."

"Put me down, you absolute—"

"No, you've got holes in your leg." Gerry shouldered past Tim and stepped back into the tunnel, carrying a disgruntled Jon with little apparent effort. "You three coming, or what?"

#the magnus archives #jongerry #gerard keay #tim stoker #jonathan sims #fanfiction #tales from the pit

[hqbaby]

twenty — more than

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.5k content. swearing, mentions of sex

Suna doesn’t know where the time went. One moment, he seems to have you in the palm of his hand, the next, he barely sees you at all. You’re just gone from his life, gone in the way that matters most.

It’s been two months since you and Atsumu started dating officially. He doesn’t talk to you anymore and he avoids the subject as much as he can around Atsumu, but from what he can tell, the two of you are doing great. You’re happy together, perfect even. Atsumu’s exactly what you need.

And that makes him feel terrible.

“Rin,” the girl in his bed calls, “are you okay?”

He looks up from the corner he’s decided to sit in and shrugs at her. “Dunno.”

This probably looks really bad. He’s just spent the last two hours fucking her and now he can’t even go near her. At least he’s managed to remember her name. Ayame. He never calls her that when he comes though. He just can’t.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says. “You can take the bed, I’ll stay on the couch.”

“You don’t need to do that—”

“It’s fine. I don’t really sleep in my bed anymore.”

Ayame looks at him sadly. She pities him, he knows she does. At this point, everyone knows that you and Atsumu are together. When the basketball team found out, it became a whole thing that ended with the entire campus basically getting a PSA that you are off-limits now.

She shifts a little. “Can I ask you a question?”

He nods at her weakly. “Sure.”

“Do you love her?”

Suna feels that burning in his chest again. It happens every time someone mentions you, every time he thinks about you, every time he sees your yellow Winnie the Pooh toothbrush beside his (he can’t bring himself to get rid of it).

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “If it isn’t love, I don’t know what it is.”

Ayame offers him a sad smile. “At least you know what love is,” she tells him. “Not a lot of people actually get to experience it. They think they do, but they don’t. At least you know it’s real.”

He chuckles bitterly. “What good is that?”

She sighs. “I don’t know,” she tells him. “But it’s something, right?”

“I can come with ya,” Atsumu offers, placing a bag of detergent in the cart. “Ya can tell ‘em I’m yer assistant or somethin’.”

You grab a bottle of fabric softener and tick it off your list. “My parents aren’t going to believe I have an assistant.”

“And why not? Ya can rule the whole world at this point.”

“‘Tsumu…”

“Y/N…”

You crane your neck and peck his jaw. “I would take you, I really would,” you tell him, turning back to your list. “But my whole family’s gonna be there. I don’t want the first time you meet my parents to be the same day you get harassed to death by my aunts.”

“They’d love me!” he insists.

“I’m not saying they wouldn’t,” you tell him. “I’m just saying that my family is crazy and I don’t wanna drag you down with me.”

He whines. “But how am I gonna survive without ya?”

“It’s three days!”

“That’s a lot of days!”

You groan. “If you stop complaining, I’ll take you to that new sushi place when I get back.”

He furrows his brows. “The one with the good tuna?”

“The one with the good tuna.”

Suddenly all smiles, Atsumu plants a wet kiss on your cheek as he hums the intro to that one anime he’s been obsessed with. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”

You push the cart to the next aisle as he skips ahead of you. “You’re impossible.”

“I know! And ya still put up with me! Best girlfriend, I’m tellin’ ya.”

You roll your eyes and smile, the two of you working together to get the rest of the groceries you need.

The past two months have been the most interesting time. At first, it was a bit of an adjustment having an actual boyfriend. You went out with guys before but you never really stuck around long enough to find out what being with someone was like. It took you a while to even wrap your head around the word.

Boyfriend.

It just seemed so official. So real.

You don’t think you ever had anything real before.

But there was something about Atsumu that just made the whole thing feel natural. The two of you fell into place perfectly, finding your roles in the relationship together and figuring it out along the way.

One thing you always liked about Atsumu was his honesty. The way you always knew that what you saw was what you got. That part of him helped a lot when the two of you needed to make things clear with each other. You never felt like he was hiding what he thought or felt. What you saw was what you got.

The worst fight you had so far had to do with volleyball. You’d expected that.

Oikawa was right when he said Atsumu was extremely anal about the sport, he would stop at nothing to get things exactly right.

He had forgotten to pick you up one afternoon and, with the rain and the flooding near your residence hall, you ended up stuck in the cafeteria until late. When the two of you finally sat down to talk about it, he acted all self-righteous, saying that he was practicing and how could he have known it was going to rain?

“Ya knew I was gonna be busy!” he said, stomping around the living room. “Ya can’t just expect me to drop everythin’ for ya!”

You put your head in your hands and let out a frustrated sigh. “For fuck’s sake, Atsumu, do I not matter to you at all?”

That seemed to change something in his mind. Like it all clicked. Like he realized that he was being stupid. Of course you matter to him. He’s pretty sure you’re the only thing that does.

The two of you never had the same argument again.

He isn’t perfect, but he sees you for who you are to him. He knows your worth and he knows he never wants to lose you, nothing would be worth as much as you.

Life has worked out for the two of you. And you’ve worked out for each other. You have to admit you could get used to this feeling—this happiness, this warmth, this security—maybe you already have.

“Why don’t you throw a party?” you ask, sticking a lollipop into your mouth as he loads the groceries into his car.

Atsumu makes a face. “But why?”

“Oh, come on,” you say, “you haven’t thrown one in so long.”

“Yeah because hostin’ parties sucks ass.”

“I bet it’s not that bad.”

“Ya just say that ‘cause yer a partygoer, not a party-thrower.”

You pull the lollipop out of your mouth and jump into the passenger seat. “Alright, fine,” you say as he gets in the driver’s seat. “What about just a little night in with the team? You guys haven’t drank together in a while.”

“I don’t like drinking,” he reminds you. “Messes with my system.”

“You can party without drinking.”

“Why do ya want me to have a party so bad?”

“I don’t really want you to have a party,” you tell him. “I just think you spend a lot of time with me and… I don’t know, I kinda feel guilty that you don’t get to do that many things on your own anymore.”

He laughs at that. “I like spendin’ time with ya. Yer so much better than the team.”

“But still.”

“I get it.” He nods. “Yeah, maybe I’ll invite the boys over. It’ll be good for them. Omi especially.”

“You know, I’m always worried he’s gonna steal you away from me.”

Atsumu chokes on his own spit. “Why would ya say that?”

You shrug, a teasing smirk on your lips. “I mean, you talk about him a lot. You know what his dick looks like. Oh! And you have that weird obsession with his—”

He pulls your face to his as the car stops at a red light, kissing you to both shut you up and remind you that there’s no one else in the world that can make him feel this way. 

It’s always you. 

It’s always going to be you.

“—his vinyl collection,” you finish your sentence as soon as he pulls away.

He pecks your lips one last time, shaking his head with a smile as he starts driving again. “Yer impossible, woman.”

“Ugh, I know right? Maybe you should buy me that cake I like.”

Atsumu shakes his head, chuckling. “Impossible.”

“You love it though.”

“Do I?”

You nod, connecting your phone to the car’s speakers and putting your playlist on. “‘Course you do.”

He glances over at you and finds you grinning at him, all bright and cheery. “Guess I do,” he says, reaching over to put a hand on your thigh. “Probably love it more than I should.”

notes. soooooooooo are we ready to party or what?????

#hqbaby.fyi #hqbaby #haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou fic #suna fic #miya atsumu fic #atsumu fic #haikyuu fic

[romancingdaffodils]

Drunken Monologues

Certified Mind Blower

remus lupin x gender neutral!magical!reader

fluff fluff pure fluff with a tiny sprinkle of Remus being silly about his furry little problem.

Remus Lupin is the cutest cutie that ever did cute!

You fell asleep at his house, in his bed, beside him. Despite what your ‘drunken’ self may have wanted Remus just put you to sleep. Then, you wake up to the sound of his voice and to the scent of something sweet. Oh, and a splitting headache.

haii did you miss me i bet you did (lots of love lilac)

ps i think this picture is super cute because my best friend taught me how to play backgammon and i’m shit at it but it makes me happy :333 matt hitt is so cute

Remus Lupin has been and always will be unbearably pretty. So, when you woke up in his bed, it was a bit of a shock. However, that shock was soon overcome by the consequences of your previous actions. ‘Ow, my head.’ you thought, groaning once again. You were certain you hadn’t been that drunk, but maybe you were in denial. Not being that drunk should not warrant this awful headache. Suddenly, it dawned on you. You were alone in the bed. Surely Remus wasn’t the type to fuck off from his own house just because he wasn’t interested in you, right? Right? Sitting up, another sensation other than the splitting headache hit you. The smell of pancakes and the sound of Remus’s voice. Yum (for both). He’s talking, was he on the phone? You wanted to groan again, feeling like it was too much energy to move to the lounge. However, for more of Remus, you’d do anything.

“I’d say sorry Pads,” Sirius from last night, you remind yourself “But, I’m not sorry at all. They’re lovely, absolutely perfect.” he said, his voice muffled slightly by the walls. You can’t hear Sirius’s voice but you imagine he said something along the lines of ‘Honestly Moony, never expected that from you,’. As you had this thought, it set in he was talking about you. Fuck. Your face flushed and every single thing you’d said last night popped into your head. Late night slideshows of embarrassment now had enough fuel to last a life time. Padding out of the bedroom, you stood in the doorway to the lounge.

“Dunno why you’re so bothered, heard you went home with someone else anyway, Mckinnon was it? Or perhaps the bartender guy, who couldn’t leave you alone?” Remus said, chuckling down the phone. You were glad Sirius wasn’t bothered by your infatuation with his friend, seeing as he’d gone home with someone else. In front of him, two plates of pancakes were being coated in strawberries and chocolate spread. Sirius shouted so loud down the phone that you actually heard it this time.

“‘Cause it was a fucking betrayal Remus!” he whined and you couldn’t help but giggle at his remark. Immediately, the tall boys head whipped round and he flashed you a smile.

“Good bye Sirius.” he replied, hanging up instantly. “Made breakfast, how long have you been awake?” he asked, still grinning at you; you smiled back.

“Not long, thanks for breakfast. Looks good.” you said, trying desperately hard not to fumble over your words. Your cheeks were still flushed and your brain was still mush.

“You alright, love? Y’look- quite red. How’s your head?” he questioned, as though he could read your mind. The statement ‘you look quite red’ was obviously a teasing one. So, when you frowned up at him, his grin only grew. Stomach twisting, you tried desperately hard not to give him a reaction to his pet name.

“I’m fine, thanks. Plus, you’re completely and utterly awful.” you complained, still frowning up at him.

“I made you breakfast and I’m awful. You were a lot braver last night.” he teased, picking up the two plates and placing them down on the breakfast bar.

“I remember you being a lot less mean last night.” you complained, still scowling at him. Your false anger didn’t last long as you sat down and gave a big smile. “Thank you.” you added, tilting your head.

“ ‘m incredible, dunno what you’re talking about. And, you’re welcome. How’d you sleep?” he replied, sitting down next to you and stretching out his legs. He was so unbelievably pretty, even with messy hair and too big pyjamas - which consisted of a band shirt and joggers.

“Really, really well actually. You? Oh, by the way. Sorry about, you know, everything I said last night. I’m not normally like that.” you mumbled in between bites of freakishly good pancakes. Chocolate spread and strawberries were an unmatched combo (only lemon juice and sugar could beat it).

“Slept well too. Plus, quite enjoyed you telling me how, ahh what was it? Fucking gorgeous you think I am. But, seriously, no worries.” Remus teased, but his tone deepened at his last sentence.

“I feel like I forced my way into your home.” you giggled, smiling over at him sheepishly.

“I’m not complaining. Y’lovely. I know you heard me say that to Sirius, by the way. You don’t really have the whole poker face nailed, do you?”.

“No, no not really.” you mumbled, becoming flustered once again. Watching Remus, you admired his every move as he finished off the pancakes. Similarly, he couldn’t take his eyes away from you. “Let me help, like do the washing up or something.” you said, standing up as soon as you finished the food “I feel bad, you’ve been so nice.”.

“You really don’t have to, but, if you want to you can.” he stated, smiling over at you as you took the plate away. Quickly, you got to work on washing the plates. He laughed lightly as he watched you, shaking his head.

“Are you laughing at me?” you asked, feigning offence. Approaching you, Remus placed his arms on either side of you. You turned around, having finished with the washing up. His face was only a few inches away from your own.

“Would never.” he defended, looking down at you. Remus Lupin was ridiculously tall, pretty and charismatic. He dressed like a loser, but was in fact - in your eyes - quite the opposite. Right now, he was all you had ever wanted.

“Hi.” your mind was at a complete blank and the fact you had even formed a word was impressive. Your body felt like it was on fire.

“Hello, dove.” he purred, trying hard not to laugh at the look on your face. As calm as Remus presented himself, he had a dead giveaway. A tell. White knuckles. He was gripping the sink so tightly his knuckles had altered into a pale, almost translucent white.

“You didn’t kiss me yesterday.” you stated, feeling it rather appropriate for the situation. He smiled. You swallowed, hard.

“No, I didn’t. You were quite drunk. However, it would be awful of me to not kiss you today.” he murmured in response, leaning closer in. Your mind was filled with a repetitive sequence of two words. Kiss me. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. His teasing was criminal. He was driving you insane within the first day of knowing him and you couldn’t imagine the solace his kiss would bring.

“So awful,”. You had to bite your tongue to avoid begging him to kiss you.

Moving even closer towards you, Remus’s tight grip on the sink never once faltered. And, finally, sweet relief. He kissed you like you’d never been kissed before. Soft, sweet and somehow it held a passion that sent your brain into a wicked frenzy. When he pulls away, you pant.

It was good. Too good. Far too good.

“You’re so pretty, ‘s unfair.” he cooed, releasing the sink and running his hand through your hair. Tenderly, he tucked the majority of your unbrushed hair behind your ears. Remus didn’t really seem to mind the mess.

“Ha-ha. Haha.” you said. Yes, you spoke the sounds “Ha-ha.” Sounding somewhat like a maniac, all you could do was look up at him with pure adoration.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head. Once again, he was trying desperately hard not to laugh.

“Perfectly- Um, perfectly fine.” you confirmed, nodding your head as you spoke. Once again, the broken record spinning that was in your mind began its maniacal chant. ‘Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.’ you begged, silently.

“Still not got a poker face, dove.” he observed, leaning back in. Connection. Morning breath and all. Connection. You were praying you wouldn’t collapse of the sensation of it all. Your hands shakily found their way into Remus’s hair. Carelessly, his hands moved to your waist and pulled you closer.

In books it’s common for the writer to describe the characters emotions whilst kissing; it emphasises how good the sensation truly is. However, right now, you were going against all laws of literature. All you could think, feel or live was Remus. One day was all it took for you to be whipped. Truly, taken. One day.

With your head tilted upwards and your body pressed flush against the brown haired man’s, you could’ve died. Unfortunately, he pulled away. Taking in slow deep breaths, he peered down at you. The look in his eyes was different. He had attraction and affection, sure. But, there was something else there. His expression changed, now matching the look in his eyes. It looked like he was fighting some sort of battle with himself.

And, honestly? Remus was fighting a battle. He liked you, from what he could tell anyway. He liked you a lot. However, Remus Lupin was burdened with a curse he wouldn’t dare admit to anyone bar his closest friends. His so called furry little problem actually turned out to be a rather large problem. Especially when it came to people like you.

Famously, he was promiscuous. God knows the number of people he’d been with. But, those hookups could be reduced to a number. Someone like you couldn’t be inconsequential. In fact, he was of the firm belief you were going to be quite consequential in deed. Reducing you to another quick affection fix would be doing you a great disservice, so Remus thought anyway. So here he was, in his own kitchen, desperately pleading with his own brain to let him take you out. You kissed like some sort of God and you begged like a desperate follower; his body couldn’t decide which part of you he liked the most. In turn, that was what led to the ultimate decision to ask you out. Reminding himself of James, Sirius and Pete’s never ending pep talks, the lanky man understood his lycanthropy did not make him any less worthy of what he wanted. However, trying to act on that was an unbelievably difficult task for Remus. The typical excuse of chronic pain won’t cut it in a serious relationship, when he disappears for days. And, he felt a pang of guilt already fiddling with his intestines for any pain it would bring you. Making his mind up was proving to be far more difficult than he would’ve liked.

His heart won the fight, for once. Foolishly, he had put his logic driven brain aside and let his heart do the talking. (He’d soon come to realise it wasn’t foolish at all).

“Do you wanna go out, this week sometime?” he asked, continuously taking the lead. Grateful, you smiled up at him.

“Yeah, actually. I’d really, really like that.” you affirmed, once again nodding your head like a babbling idiot.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x reader #remus x you #sirius black #james potter #marauders era #let me out #i’m dying #i hate writing

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

HIII I want to say i love your OCs and your writing that i binge reading them everytime 🥰, especially i love your Yandere Jock story cause I weak for sweet himbo man but actually scary, lol.

If you don't mind , can i ask for a scenario where Damon is playing for tournament, but his team losing by a lot now cause Damon not feeling great at that time, so his coach have to use their ultimate card, bring Y/n here to cheer. Therefore, in middle break, the coach had to snatch Y/n from library, using their authority as PE teacher that Y/n has to follow. Damon shock at seeing Y/N in the tournament , even sitting at the team seat. He asked why is she here,

Y/n grumpy said "I got brought here because you stupid playing today, why are you suddenly so bad?? I thought you were the best player in this school!!!. Fine!! If you don't even win this tournament, then no point in giving you a kiss" . Damon heart stopped at that sentence. Y/n promise him a kiss if he win this??? Afterward, he went back to the tournament feeling full energy and totally annihilated the rival team. After tournament end, with everyone gone wash up and went to party to celebrate the win, only Damon and Y/n in the shower room, hungrily kissing Y/n and make out 🫣

Unbeknownst to everyone, the reason Damon was not in the mood to play was because Y/n rejected his invite to his tournament to focus on her exam lmao

Yandere! Jock x Honor student! fem! reader everyday tidbits: encouragement

"What the hell, Damon?!" One of Damon's teammates screamed at him, exasperated by this usually amazing jock turn into this... Dunce.

"Come on, Damon. What's happening with ya?" One teammate also whispered, patting him on his shoulder. "We need your head in the game here, man. You're our MVP, please, don't be like this."

Damon only frowned, annoyed and sluggish. He really wants to lash out, but he knows he can't due to being this nice guy, so he gave a sheepish smile.

"Sorry..." He whispered, trying to get into the zone, but nothing.

The coach noticed this and frowned.

"What's happening to the guy?" The coach asked the member who got benched earlier.

"Dunno. He seems distracted coach." The guy muttered, looking around the bleachers. "Huh... Maybe the reason is that y/n is not here?"

The coach looked at the usual spot you would sit on. And he's right, you weren't there at all.

"... Are you thinking what i'm thinking?" The coach whispered, and the other members nodded.

"You, you watch the game. I gotta go fetch someone." The coach pointed at his assistant before running towards the library, hoping you're there.

He bursted open, earning quite a handful of jumps and yelps, and earning the ire of the librarian and staff.

"The basketball coach? What are you--" The librarian was about to nag when he waved him off.

"No time, I gotta find a student."

Then, he found you, just reading a book that you were too busy with to notice him.

"You, come with me." He said, getting up to your face and frightening you to nodding.

You got dragged to the court and paused when you saw the scores.

"What the hell..?" You whispered under your breath, before narrowing your eyes when you saw Damon looking so off his game.

Pursing your lips, you got to your usual seat and leaned on the railing.

"Oi! You damn dingus!" You yelled, making the whole stadium look at you. The referee was about to charge but the coach made him stop. "What's with this pathetic display? What happened to your skills? Gone? Fine! If you don't do good... No kisses!"

The whole stadium bursts in awe, squeals and blushes of bashfulness.

But Damon was the only one you're looking at, and you watched his face go from bewildered to horror.

"No! I want my kisses!" He yelled, suddenly getting energized and making a mad dash towards the hoop and dunking, earning a three points.

The stadium cheered, making you calm down as his a-game rose.

"Finally..." You grumbled, annoyed but felt good that he got energized when you got here.

Sure, you were also the reason why he's distracted. You did say you won't be attending the game since you're busy with studying...

But come on, he's been thriving before you...

You watched him suddenly getting shot after shot, and hiding from the University journalists trying to cop a pic from you.

After the whole thing, Damon completely annihilated the whole rival team. Looking scary as steam emitted from his body due to his body temperature and the stadium temperature difference.

You sighed in relief before finally going down and back to the library.

Surely, he would go celebrate his victory with his teammate right?

You walked moderately, and when you passed by their locker room, you suddenly got pulled in.

The door locked.

"So, where's my reward?" Damon, freshly showered, caged you between his arms before capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.

Yeah, he's hungry. But not for food, that's for sure.

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

[aromanticautiesworld]

finn x fem reader whos really into science, rambles on a bunch and finn actually listena to her which she hasnt seen anyone do and actually CARE about what shes saying and immediately starts crushing (they were og friends but it just made her heart flutter and it was a pretty sunset)

YES YES ABSOLUTELY love this <- fixated on astrophysics since he was six and is considering becoming one in the far future

////

finn with a fem reader who’s a science nerd

word count: 745

Finn called you over for repairs to their telescope not too long ago, something about a fight with the Ice King where he cracked the lense. The sun had already gone down, and the stars (now more visible after all the human’s pesky light pollution was gone) came out of their hiding spots along with the crescent moon.

You stopped the video game you were speeding through, the call being a necessary distraction to pull you out of what would otherwise be many hours straight of gameplay, and a significant lack of self-care.

You pack your bag with snacks, and (of course) books about astrophysics and astronomy (just in case the hangout became a sleepover, or you suddenly needed them. Things can get very chaotic very quickly with Finn), two of your favorite and very closely related sciences. Unlike him, you didn’t want to adventure for your whole life, you did eventually want to become an astrophysicist, maybe study with Peebs.

“Why do you even have a telescope if you never use it?” You say, looking down at the new lense you were trying to install.

“‘Cuz we need it to see any incoming baddies,” Finn waves his sword around, whacking imaginary enemies.

“What about, like. Using binoculars instead,”

“Telescope sees better,”

“Fair point, fair point,” You raise an eyebrow at him, “You do actually know what it’s for, right?”

Finn pauses to think. “I mean…you look at the stars. At least I think you do. I dunno why you’d look at them through that when you can see ‘em perfectly fine from here,”

“It’s cool, trust me! It’s to see them in more detail,”

Finn stares blankly at you.

“So, in space, there’s, like. a hundred billion things—things we can’t even see from here—and this telescope lets you look at all the stuff you can’t see and all the stuff you can see but better,”

Finn sheathes his sword, “I thought there was just the stars, planets and the moon in space?”

“Oh, well. Yeah, but there’s also asteroids, meteoroids, all those decayed satellites from before the mushroom war, supernovas—oh oh oh! Do you know what a supernova is? They’re so cool—they’re basically a big, big star that after becoming a red supergiant they implode in this huge burst of energy that lasts years—and at the end it either makes a neutron star, or a black hole. Black holes are actually super cool too, they don’t let anything out—not even light! Most black holes are smaller than Ooo but there are some massive ones at the center of every galaxy—which is a whole other thing—that could’ve been formed by being compressed at the center of giant stars back in the ancient universe. Also, they’re probably going to be the last thing in the universe but because of hawking radiation eventually they’ll fade away too, and…um…”

You look back over at Finn, who now sat criss cross on the floor of the balcony. He’d been intently listening (even if he didn’t understand some of it) but in your eyes you were boring him. Most people don’t have the energy or desire to listen to your long rants about space, and once you start, the conversation fizzles out and they’re too tired to talk to you.

You look down at your hands, “Sorry, I was rambling again. We can talk about something else if you want, haha…”

“No, no no no,” He had zoned out many times during PB’s talks of numbers and other things kinda irrelevant to him, but for you it was different. Maybe he just likes hearing the sound of your voice, he doesn’t know. “Can you keep going?”

Your heart flutters.

Your rambling continues on into the night, moon and stars slowly moving across the skies. Finn doesn’t add much to the conversation, mostly watches with a fluttering feeling he couldn’t figure out in his chest. Man, you were pretty when you talked.

Many hours later (you don’t know it, but the sun’s coming up soon), you sit by Finn’s side, both of you sleepy from staying up all night.

Finn looks over to you, “Tonight was fun,”

You’re quiet, “…the funny thing is, most peeps don’t like to hear about it. The stars,”

“I wanna hear about the stars, if it’s you talking about them,”

Your eyes practically sparkle, and you pull him into a hug. Finn’s face grows hot, and he freezes before hugging you back.

“Tier one, dude,”

“What?”

“What?”

#mariner talks #mariner writes #finn the human x reader #finn x reader #adventure time x reader #finn the human

[mlmxreader]

Take My Soul | Crowley x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ 4. "I... love you too much to condemn you."

And

11. "If a soul must be taken I demand you take me"

With Crowley please?

(happy ending please?) ❞

: ̗̀➛ Whilst waiting for Rowena to cast a spell for the Winchesters, you and Crowley can finally sit down and talk through a few of the more important aspects of your relationship.

trigger warnings : ̗̀➛ swearing, mentions of being chained up, alcohol consumption

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Everything was going rather smoothly, between the Winchesters finding the right spellbook for Rowena and Crowley finding them all the right ingredients, no one saw why the spell shouldn't be a success; you had been tasked with a few of the smaller pieces of it - tracking down a purebred werewolf and harvesting its fur by the light of a full moon and other such tasks - and everything so far had gone more than smoothly.

But as you sat in the dingy little motel room next door, you couldn't help but to feel like it was all going too well; Crowley was opposite you, nursing some fine brand of scotch that you could only ever dream to afford.

"It will all be over soon," he admitted. "A spell like this doesn't take much, you'll be on the road again in no time."

You sighed, frowning a little as you swallowed thickly. "I dunno, everything seems to be going a bit too well - every time I've worked with those boys, something always goes tits up."

He smiled, nodding. "I don't think it will this time, it that helps."

You couldn't help it, looking at his short beard and the bits of grey amongst the black coarse hairs; his dark brown eyes, and how the light seemed to avoid them entirely.

You could never admit it around the Winchesters, of course, but you had always had a thing for the King. He was handsome, witty, intelligent - what was a person like you supposed to do?

Your mouth suddenly went dry, swarmed and swamped with thoughts that you shouldn't have had for him, but when you went to grab a bottle of beer from the fridge, he grabbed a glass and filled it with his expensive scotch.

"Don't drink that swill," he told you, gently pushing the glass across the table. "Have a proper drink."

You looked at the glass, then at him, shaking your head. "I couldn't possibly, I mean-"

"Please, wolf, I insist," Crowley all but purred.

You took the glass, ginger to take a swig and knowing that that scotch was worth more than anything you had ever tasted. "Why'd you always call me that?"

"William Blake," he shrugged. "Every Wolfs & Lions howl raises from Hell a Human Soul... if I remember correctly, Blake is your favourite, isn't he?"

You smiled as you nodded, clearing your throat. "Yeah, but no one... no one ever remembers that... not even Sam."

Crowley hummed, leaning back as he scratched between his eye and nose with the back of his thumb's nail. "I did. If I remember correctly, your favourite is Proverbs of Hell, isn't it?"

"And The Pit of Disease: The Falsifiers," you nodded, laughing softly. "Why'd you bother to remember all that?"

He shrugged, all too calm as he cleared his throat. "I like it when people have taste. Especially if they are rather attractive."

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes, wanting to shake your head. "You don't really mean that - you're the King of Hell, you could have anybody."

"And yet," he mused. "Here I am. You know where my bones are, just as you know the only way to get into my armoury. Doesn't that tell you something, wolf?"

You scratched the edge of your jaw for a moment, sighing heavily. "Just tell me, please."

"I mean, should anything ever happen to you, I will gather every single demon and hellhound I can," he told you. "And I will destroy whatever hurt you."

You smiled a little, clearing your throat. "I see... but listen, if... if it comes to it, and Rowena needs a soul, then... well, could you do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"If a soul must be taken, I demand you take me," you told him. "Please."

Crowley shook his head, immediate refusal without hesitation. "No. No, I... love you too much to condemn you. No."

"Crowley-"

"She won't need a soul," he insisted. "And even if she did, there are plenty in the world - I will not condemn you."

"But-"

"I said no," he growled out. "If we need a soul, one of my demons will fetch us one. You will not have yours... tainted."

You frowned, furrowing your brows. "Even if it's the only way to stop the world from ending?"

"The world can burn," Crowley almost snapped. "The whole bloody universe can burn. If there is one soul in the entirety of existence that I won't take - it's yours. You are off limits."

You could see it so plainly even though he tried to hide it so well; the actual concern, the real worry, the true fear.

It was one thing from him to deny a friend of the Winchesters such a thing - knowing that they would cause problems the moment that they found out - but to tell you that he loved you in that split moment?

To tell you that he would sooner watch the entire fabric of the universe go up in flames?

It was undeniable. Truly, and when you caught his gaze again, you cleared your throat, licking your lips.

"I'm off limits?"

"Yes," he said, a lot kinder and softer. "You always will be. Even if you tell me to bugger off right now and say that you want a nice, little suburban life with Moose - you'll still be off limits."

"I wouldn't want that," you whispered. "I mean, Sam's nice and everything and so is Dean... but I like a man with refined taste and dark eyes."

Crowley's gaze snapped to you, and he was quick to finish his drink off as he put his hand on the table. "I will never let anyone go after you. Not the Winchesters, not the angels, not any of those bloody blithering idiots."

"I like that you're worried about me as if I wasn't the one who had you in chains," you pointed out with a soft laugh.

He smiled, nearly grinning as he nodded in agreement. "And I remember that as one of my best weekends... come on, drink up and then give me a kiss before those two morons decide to walk in."

You almost grinned, nodding as you quickly downed your drink.

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, maybe donate to help Tahani save her children and husband!

#mlem writes #crowley x reader #crowley x you #crowley x y/n #crowley x yn #crowley imagine #crowley fanfiction #crowley fanfic #crowley fic #crowley spn #crowley supernatural #spn crowley #supernatural crowley #crowley #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x y/n #supernatural x yn #supernatural imagine #supernatural oneshot #supernatural one shot #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #spn x reader #spn x y/n #spn x you #spn imagine #spn

[daisyblog]

Kiss and Make Up

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN have their first argument. Warning: swearing

YN’s POV: The Take Me Home tour was well underway, I felt so lucky to be able to join the boys on the tour being Louise’s assistant. I’d learnt so much already and it had only just begun. Tonight the boys are playing at LG Arena in Birmingham, they had just finished rehearsing ahead of the evening show so were now free to do as they pleased. In the boy's shared dressing room, Niall was sitting on the arm of the large sofa, that Liam was laying across, strumming random tunes on his guitar and Louis and Zayn were yet to appear. Harry’s arm was draped over my shoulder as we sat as one on the opposite sofa to the two boys. I was scrolling through my Instagram and Twitter as the boys chatted about the tour so far, how they were excited to play in their hometown and just overall how happy they are.

“So..Liam are your Mum and Dad comin’ tonight ‘en..because Birmingham is close to them isn’t it?” Niall asked as he continued to strum his guitar. “Uh yeah they are actually..I dunno if my sisters are though” Liam explained from his position on the sofa “Do I need to warn them about your thing for the boy's sisters Harry?” Liam teased.

I felt Harry chuckle next to me, and the next thing said made my chest tight and my stomach twist “Yeah..once I get bored with YN, I’ll charm yours and win them over”. The three boys laughed but Harry’s arm around you suddenly felt heavy on your shoulder. Was that all I was to him, someone to use until he found better? I couldn’t stay in this room any longer, I needed to get out. I could take a joke, heck I loved the jokes and pranks the boys would pull but this wasn’t funny. I got up without saying a word and stomped towards the door “Where you going?” Harry asked, completely oblivious to what his words had done. I ignored him, not wanting to talk right now and continued to walk out the door and down the corridor heading towards the bathroom at the end of it. The tears were going to spill any second, I felt them in the corners of my eyes making my vision blurry.

“Aww there she is..you alright Tiny?” my brother’s voice startled me. The minute Louis saw the tears streaming down my face, he panicked and pulled me into his chest “What’s wrong? What’s ‘appened?”. “H-h-harry..” I sobbed into his chest, I didn’t get the chance to finish explaining what had happened because Louis left me to go and headed towards the dressing room. I was going to tell him not to but there was no point, once Louis had something in his head he was going to do it regardless. I just carried on heading towards the bathroom to avoid what was about to happen.

Harry’s POV:

YN had just walked out of the dressing room door without answering me when I asked where she was going. “What’s wrong with her?” Liam asked no one in particular. “You know what girls can be like…fine one minute and in a mood the next..hormones or some shit” Niall spoke “Are you gonna go after her?”

“No, she’ll be fine..probably gone to phone her Mum or something” I said “I know she’s been missing her a lot since the tour started” The door flies open and almost hits the wall behind it, and Louis appears. “What the fook ‘ave you done to my sister?” Louis raised his voice at me. At this, the two boys looked at me and matched the same confused look that I had. “Mate..nothi-“ Liam began. “I’m not askin’ you Payno..I’m talkin’ to Harry” “Lou..I-I..I don’t know what you're talking about..she just walked out without saying anything” “Well why the hell was she just sobbing in my arms and all I got out of her was your name?” Louis spoke “Do me a favour..go and find her and sort it out..will ya? ‘cause if you don’t I’m gonna punch you this time” Niall and Liam adverting their eyes back and forth at the seen in front of them.

I got up from the sofa without saying another word and headed towards the door. I didn’t understand what had happened, and how things can change so quickly. One minute we were cuddling on the sofa and now she’s crying because of me. It almost felt impossible to find her in this building, I’d looked in every room almost and no sign of her anywhere. I’d asked Louise if she had seen her and all I got was ‘thought she was with you’, I’d asked the 5SOS boys, who were our opening act, but still no luck. The crew members who were sitting having some lunch in the kitchen hadn’t seen her either. I almost gave up looking until I passed Paul in the corridor, and he told me he saw her going into the small room at the bottom near the toilets. As I approached the room, I took a deep breath before pushing the door open. As I walked in and let the door close behind me, I noticed she was sitting on the red sofa with her knees tucked up in her chest and wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her jumper. The scene broke my heart. My legs took me over to her “Baby..what..why are you crying?”. “Just leave me alone” she mumbled. “No..no..I’m not going anywhere until we talk about this”, I went to wipe a tear that was rolling down her cheek but she swatted my hand away. “YN..Baby please” “Just fook off…you’d rather be with someone else anyway” she spat out. “What are you talking about?” “Once I get bored with YN, I’ll charm yours and win them over..I think that’s what you said” she repeated my words from earlier. “Aww c’mon…that was a joke and you know it” I defended my words. “No..jokes are funny…that was just arrogant” “You’re just being sensitive now” I snapped at her. “YOU JUST DON’T GET IT” she shouted “Nobody ever gets it” she whispered the last part. “THEN FUCKING TELL ME YN…'CAUSE I DON”T COME WITH A CRYSTAL BALL TO KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING..FOR FUCKS SAKE” after raising my voice, I regretted it instantly “I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to shout” She was silent for a few moments until I heard her voice “Do you know how many comments I read every day telling me I’m ugly and fat..o-or how you could do so much better than me…thousands…and when you said that you would move onto someone else once you get bored of me..It made me think maybe they’re right..why would Harry Styles want to be with me, when he could have anyone he wanted” “I don’t want anyone other than you” I spoke “and if I can’t have you then..I don’t see the point” I spoke gently. She sniffed and wiped a stray tear that rolled down her cheek and hit her lip “It really hurt me what you said” “I know..and I’m really sorry baby” I held my arms open for her, and she slowly moved so her head lay on my chest. I kissed the top of her head and moved my fingers up and down her arm in a calming motion. After a few moments, I decided to speak “Baby?”, she lifted her head to look up at me “You’re beautiful…please don’t listen to those comments…they’re just people who don’t have anything better to do than tear people apart”, I dipped my head to meet her lips and moved mine with hers softly. I brought my hand up to the side of her face as the kiss deepened and became a little sloppier. As I was about to move for her to fall on top of me, the door abruptly opened. “Ahh fook...me eyes” Louis's dramatic voice startled us “Right..well I’m glad you’ve made up…but maybe keep the kissing part until later yeah…right well..umm…I’ll leave you to it” and walked back out, closing the door behind him. As I looked back at YN we burst into laughter at what just happened. “I love you” I confessed, leaving a peck on her lips “I love you” she mumbled against my lips.

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower

#harrystyles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles series #harry styles masterlist #harry styles series masterlist #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #1d fandom #harry styles fic #one direction fandom #one direction imagine #onedirection #one direction #liam payne #louis tomlinson #niall horan #zayn malik #harry styles x tomlinson!reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine

[that-bad-b1tch]

A knights honor

Yandere!totk x knight reader

Description: As a royal knight it is your sworn duty to protect those around you and the royal family until the day you die. So why are you suddenly in the past during the imprisoning war with people wanting you as their protector even though you sworn the protect the one who carries the goddesses power.

Warnings: Cursing, gore, possessiveness, A little smut not full blown smut but like making out, and death. Also reader is gender netrual! But it will talk about masculinity.

Adults do not interact meaning do not follow or repost. (Commenting and liking this post is fine)

A/n: i made this because I was annoyed with little totk fanfiction there was and how their were none actually with reader being taller than Ganon or as a knight from the future like zelda 😮‍💨

Words: I dunno man I don't take track of this type of thing 🗿

Chapter 1- The awaking

You don't like this at all. Traveling down the dark and narrow path of the cave gives you chills. Your hand clutching the very sword that managed to survive during the age of calamity and when you fell alseep for 100 years along with the hero link.

Though it feels awkward because 1 you are walking down a path that feels weird. It felt like it was slowly dragging you down without knowing. Zelda the princess who survive Ganon was egar to do this after finding out that the muck or something you don't really recall what was making the villagers sick. So as a friend and knight you went along with Link who as ever was quiet about this but you could tell he was weary of this also.

Your eyes were focused forward ignoring zeldas excitement as she held the sheka slaight. Suddenly Links master sword bursted into light. You tensed and swallowed meaning that links sword is detecting danger. Zelda looked worried and gripped on your forearm.

Though you didn't notice since you were to busy looking ahead and trying to find the danger Zelda squeezed on your arm admiring how much muscle you have for being a women. You were actually tall taller than a average hylian and taller then a gerudo women. So you were possibly the tallest women Zelda has ever met and the strongest to almost matching links strength.

Both Zelda and you flinched once hearing something scream like it was dying and noticing link was gone. Swallowing your salava again you jogged down with Zelda who followed. Zelda noticed link and went ahead of you to see and ask if link was okay which he was and it was just a simple bat according to him.

Zelda nodded her head and turned it only to awe at what's ahead of her. Her eyes sparkled as she put the sheka to camera and rambled about something. Your eyes moved also and looked at the designed in awe also admiring the detail and time that person who made it took. Although you were interesting in everything you still had that gulch wrenching feeling like something bad was going to happen. Like.....something is supposed to happen.

Yet agian you shook it off thinking it was just you bring paranoid and ventured forward with link and zelda in the front rambling about something but you didn't really care since you were busy trying to ignore the feeling that came back once again. Once hearing zelda gasp softly you looked forward only to make your heart drop when seeing a pit. A very VERY deep pit with a green glowing light that swirled around gently but it was at one single spot whole the red looking smoke danced around everywhere.

"Zelda I do not think it's a good idea to go down there" You said finally speaking during this whole time down here. Zelda looked at you with a caring but determined look. "We must y/n we need to find out what is causing the people to become ill." Zelda said with a determined tone. Link sighed and shook his head knowing that y/n was right since he too had a feeling something bad was going to happen.

Zelda turned and continued walking down the path along with link. You grumbled about how this was a bad idea but followed since you didnt want to be left behind at a place like this. The steps of you, link, and zelda were echoing around the hallow place. Your hands sweated slightly as you finally made it down the final step and was walking down the crumble path.

"What is that?" Zelda suddenly asked. She stopped and slightly moved back once seeing the thing. Your eyes and even links eyes widened seeing a mummy of a man. His hair a deep blood red. His skin for some reason a deep brown color not normal for a decaying mummy. Yet your eyes were focused on the hand thar slowly fell to the side making a gem of some sorts fall off the hand and roll to zelda. Zelda knelt to the ground and hesitantly took the gem off the ground her eyes were focused on the gem them gasped softly when seeing the gem was glowing a golden color.. Your eyes once again snapped towards the mummy when hearing the sickening sound of joints and bones cracking. Zelda flinched and yelped softly once hearing the sound also and stood up, clutching the stone tightly.

The mummy rose up slowly making you flinch at the cracking sound. The mummy soon fell limp and making you hold your breath.

There was dead silence before the mummy snapped its head towards the three of you. Red stuff then shooted out of the mummy like it wad a command and shot towards the three of you more specifically zelda.

Zelda screamed but link managed to block the red things attack while you used your shield to block the up coming attacked that were coming towards you. Grunting you pushed away the red stuff and moved towards zelda protecting her with your sword and shield. Your eyes widened seeing the red stuff destroy links hand. It was coming to fast and you didn't know bit the red stuff then attacked you but not your body but almost half of your face making you scream and clutch the bleeding side.

"Y/n!" Zelda yelled with shock and worried tone. Your eye looked over and gasped seeing that the master sword shattered into pieces and flew everywhere. Including to the mummy.

"Link!" Zelda then called out links name once seeing the damage the red stuff had did to link. Your eye widened was a peice of the master sword grazed your cheek like the top of the shattered sword did to the mummy.

"Was that the blade that seals the darkness? A blade that shatters to easily against my power cannot save you from me." The mummy finally spoke as it slowly rose up looking at the three. Your eye spewed out blood making your hand painted with blood. You took shaky breathed whole looking at the mummy that was now finally at its height and looking at zelda.

"Zelda" It rasped ignoring the sheer fear that held in zeldas eyes. The mummy then turned to link his tone lasing with hatred. "You, that carries that fragile sword...are link" It hissed out. Links face hardened as he breathed heavily and clutching his whole wounded arm with the handle that was once the master sword.

Its rotten and olden face then and finally noticed you. "You........" It rasped his tone calming for odd reason but you didn't care. Clutching the sword you finally put your hand down revealing the eye socket that held nothing anymore. The eyeball shrunken and gone so now that right eye socket was hallow but still spewing out blood as the red stuff slowly crept around your eye.

"Raru placed his faith in you" It hissed out like that name made its blood boil with anger like that name was a name of an enemy. "And that was all ypu can do?" It responded his voice lacing with dissapointment like it was expecting something.

"How do you......know our names" Zelda managed to say her grip on the lighten touch was tight since she felt shame because she couldn't do anything to help y/n and link.

Yet the mummy ignored Zeldas question and shot out the same red stuff and moved it so now it was blasting upwards. The place crumbled as rocks were falling once the triangle peice was moving upwards. "Zelda, link!" You yelled moved zelda away as you used your upper body to push rocks away from the three ignoring the burning and painful feeling that was happening on your right eye.

The ground shook violently. You used tour sword for support while link knelt down finally feeling the intense pain. "Link, y/n!" Zelda called out but screamed when the rock under her fell making her fall. Your eye widened as you immediately jump and holding Zelda closed as you fell. Link soon then jumped and tried catching the bothof you but couldn't. You shut your eyes tightly as you felt wired rush through you and zelda expecting a impact but didn't. There was then a bright light coating you and zelda and made both of you suddenly dissappear.

Before you fell into unconsciousness you saw a small part of a little forest but fell into a darkness. Not knowing that a certain two people noticed both you and zelda unconscious.

#yandere female #Yandere male #Totk #gender neutral reader #Totk x reader #Yandere totk

[podcastenthusiast]

I dunno why I wrote this instead of like a nice lighthearted story about Astarion getting a sunburn or something.

Anyway here's the aftermath of the night Cazador carved the Infernal binding into his back. Lots of sibling interaction.

--

Pain is a strange thing. Given a long enough span of time, it can become almost pleasurable, or at least a neutral sensation. You feel the hot sharp sting of Cazador's blade cut into your back over and over. But you are disconnected, floating above it all.

You're quiet now, tears running down your cheeks. You loathe giving him the satisfaction of seeing you weep but it is beyond your control at this point--an automatic physical response to prolonged, overwhelming agony.

Your body is motionless under his hands. If you move, he will have to start over again.

"I suppose that will do. You may return to the dormitory, boy."

He sounds vaguely disappointed. A poem, he'd told you. Somehow you have failed as a canvas for his artistic mutilation. Too much avoidable editing, perhaps. You wonder why he didn't simply paralyze you, but you suspect he enjoys finding reasons to punish you. Perhaps this was a punishment? Whatever the cause, if any at all, you are relieved to be spared the kennel.

"Yes, Master," a hollow voice replies. You realize it is your own. Just like the blood on the carpet. You wonder if you will be made to clean it later.

Dismal gray light mocks you through the wondows. Dawn. He spent an entire night engaged in bloody composition, your pale skin vellum for his creative vision.

You stagger, legs shaking, to the room you share with your siblings. It is a miracle you manage the stairs without falling. Or you assume you do; there is a momentary lapse of consciousness and you find yourself curled up tightly in a ball on one of the bottom bunks, your back to the wall as if that could protect the tender flesh from anyone wishing to do you further harm.

Yet even in suffering you aren't afforded any privacy. Your sister's soft voice drifts in like the tide.

"My last mark was an alchemist's apprentice. She... well, I have a healing salve. It's yours, if you'd like. I owe you for stitching up my arm."

She is clever to disguise her kindness, although you both know better.

"You're my favorite, Dal," you say, barely more than a whisper. It hurts to speak. Your throat is so raw from screaming.

"Mhm. I need to assess the damage."

You hear Dalyria stifle a horrified gasp when she sees what he did to you. You feel disgusting. Ashamed.

Always a doctor, you think with admiration. It must be nice to know yourself. Your world has become so small, the person you once were such a distant memory.

The brisk professional detachment in her tone is oddly comforting. With great effort, you maneuver yourself onto your stomach. You are already shirtless, which is fine; just the idea of fabric touching your maimed back, or what's left of it, makes you feel a bit faint.

"Brother... gods..."

Her voice sounds brittle, choked: the air of unshakable physician's confidence is suddenly gone. There is only your little sister here, teetering on the edge of tearful. You can't bear it. You've cried more than enough for yourself tonight already.

"Come now, darling, none of that," you soothe, all false cheer. "No sense letting some--frankly probably mediocre--poetry upset you, hm?"

She's seen you wounded before, obviously. They all have countless times. You wound each other and yourselves, on his orders or sometimes just because you csn, because you're starving or viciously bored, and that's only when the master and that bloody skeleton can't be bothered. Dalyria no doubt contended with worse injuries in her mortal life, too. She can bear the sight of your blood easily enough.

Why, then, is this particular instance so different? What does she see etched on your flesh?

"Tell me, Dal, be my mirror. Is it... Am I hideous?" you ask, terrified to lose the one asset of real value you have anymore.

"Of course not, brother," she says. How bizarre it feels for you, an expert in deception, to be the one lied to. "But...this might be beyond a salve."

"Try," you plead with her, hoping it sounds more like a command. You are desperate for any relief from the waves of nauseating pain breaking over you.

"Okay."

The healing salve is cool against your skin and somewhat numbing, easing your aching muscles, but it is not itself magical. The deep cuts do not mend. You suspect Cazador's blade probably was enchanted to prevent effective healing. He wouldn't want to risk having his hard work undone by a pilfered potion.

"It will scar, I'm afraid," she says, as if you aren't painfully aware of that fact.

"As he intended."

She hums whilst she works. Sometimes you like to imagine there are simple things like that Cazador can't take from you all. But the truth, you know, is that he could if he desired it. Could render you mute, mindless thralls if he didn't relish the sound of your screams.

"Oh hells, what's Astarion done now?"

Great. Petras. There is a voice you wouldn't mind never hearing again. Just when you were beginning to believe you might be able to rest a little.

"Shut up," you snap. Your nerves are frayed. He would be wise not to test your extremely limited patience right now.

But wisdom has never been your brother's strong suit.

"Just saying If you didn't give so much lip maybe the master wouldn't have to beat you too badly. Even dogs can learn that eventually."

"Thank you, Petras, as ever a bastion of wisdom," you say through gritted teeth.

"What did you call me?!"

"Enough, you two! Please don't fight," Dalyria begs, like always.

"I deliver twice the marks he does," Petras insists, which you doubt is true given his everything. He'd have to knock out half of his targets and drag them here. "Still struts about like he fucking owns the place only to roll over for the master--"

"Look at him, brother! His back..."

"I'm right here, you know," you say, but it doesn't matter.

Your siblings fall silent. A heavy silence, tomb-like. He has seen Cazador's masterpiece. Finally something shuts him up.

"Oh. Fuck," Petras breathes after a moment. He's verging dangerously on sympathetic. It's too much.

"Damn it, what?! Haven't you ever seen a man flayed before? Is his poetry really that awful? Gods, it's a tasteless limerick, isn't it."

You laugh, bitter and dry, because otherwise you think you'll fall apart. You wish they would all stop looking at you.

"I don't know," your sister says. "I can't read these symbols. Perhaps Aurelia--"

"Must we show absolutely everyone?" you protest.

"Well, I've never seen anything like it," your idiot brother adds unhelpfully. "Seriously, what did you do? Leon, come look at this!"

Wonderful. You're starting to feel like a sick art exhibition. Exposed. It would be funny were it not tragically happening to you. You don't think your siblings would actually harm you in this vulnerable state, not without a direct order. Well, maybe that oaf Petras.

"Master carved him up like a goose," Petras explains to your newest brother once he, too, has beheld the gruesome spectacle that is your tattered skin.

"Why? I mean, there must be a reason. Did you break a rule? Were you caught reading again?"

"He doesn't need a reason," you remind your brother.

Leon is not stupid; he's just scared. He still believes this torture was justified somehow, the logical consequence of failure or willful disobedience, that any sense can be made of the master's capricious moods. He needs to believe it can't happen to him--or especially not his young daughter. You let go of such silly notions a century before Leon was born.

"What does this mean, then?" he wonders quietly. "For the rest of us?"

Even with your face pressed into the pillow, you know what their expectant silence means. They are looking to you for answers. Guidance. How to protect themselves. You understand the master's cruelty as well as one could, having endured his sadistic whims longer than any of them.

"This hasn't ever happened before," you admit. "I don't know why he did it or what he might be planning next. And no, I didn't disobey. I doubt it means anything at all."

"I know what it means."

Violet, right on cue. Mischievous eyes and that stuffed owlbear clutched to her chest, you're certain.

"What?"

"Astar-ion has been cho-sen," your sister declares. Sings, really. Her voice is sickly sweet. Sugar laced with poison.

"Chosen?" Petras scoffs. "Sure. Perks of being the master's special little bitch--"

You spring up from the mattress completely without thought, like you've been compelled to act, but it is only rage driving you to grab your brother by the throat and pin him roughly against the wardrobe. It all happens so fast Dalyria doesn't even scream.

"Say that again," you snarl. "I dare you."

You recognize the briefest flash of fear in Petras' eyes. Perhaps he has a shred of respect for you after all, deep down. He clearly envies you, the deluded fool.

"Get off me!"

He pushes you away from him and, still weak, you stumble and fall flat on your back. Your vision goes white with seering pain; a wretched keening whine escapes your lips. You don't move to get up. You're not entirely sure you could. Dalyria rushes to your side, wringing her hands.

Violet, standing in the doorway, giggles and takes off running down the hall. Petras storms after her, furious, with Leon trailing uncertainly behind them.

Dalyria sighs--such a profoundly tired sound you feel it resonate in your bones.

"You look like a dying animal," she says affectionately.

"I feel like one."

She offers a hand. Helps you up from the floor.

"Ignore him. Please. At least until you heal," she implores you. "I won't have you undoing my efforts. You shouldn't let Petras get--"

"Under my skin?"

"I was not going to say that," she says, glancing away, sheepish. You don't know how she lures anyone back here when she can't lie to her own family.

"You were."

"Was not."

"Were."

"Not."

"Yes."

"No."

You both switch from Common to Elven, then you trip her up with Orcish.

"You're impossible!" Dalyria pouts. But your sister is smiling. A rare sight indeed. You tuck it away somewhere deep within your dead heart, for safekeeping. "Now please rest. Doctor's orders."

You feel cold. Afraid. Slightly delirious with pain and exhaustion, you ask, "What if I'm dying?"

Her expression softens. She isn't smiling anymore.

"You're not going to die," she says. Then, quieter, as you slip away into a trance: "Death is a mercy not meant for us."

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #dalyria is my poor little meow meow #yes she probably murdered a child but she's the best girl around #i haven't actually played the game in two days because i was writing this

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

Hey Guys! So since my MM Au posts have been doing super well! I thought, "Hey, why not give the people a small snippet?" So, here you go!

Lenore slugged out of bed that morning and did her usual routine before walking to breakfast, sitting by her friends, who had already been conversing. She picked and prodded at her food with a fork, but it didn't seem all that appealing to her. She still nibbled what she could muster down, causing Duke to prod. “You alright, aime?” Lenore perked her head up, the prongs of her fork half in her mouth. “Hm?” She hummed, plucking the silver out of her mouth. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit tired, is all.” She says with an awkward, dismissive smile, making Duke squint in suspicion, but he chooses not to prod. Eulalie chimes in with her own opinion, much to everyone’s dismay.

“You look sad, Lenore.” She says, causing Berenice to spit out what she was doing onto Pluto by accident, “...Sorry darlin’...” She grins nervously, watching as he slowly drags his hand across his annoyed face. Duke chuckles, barely concealing his grin with the curled side of his finger, “Oh là là…” he musters through stifled laughter. Pluto shoots him a glare, “What's the matter, ami? You look upset!”

“Im. WET.” Pluto declares in annoyance, flicking iced tea off his sleeve in Duke’s direction, “And STICKY!” Duke deflects the sappy tea droplets with his arm, chuckling loudly, “Ah! Don’ get it on me!” Berneice begs, chuckling as she now has to deflect the tea. “PAYBACK!” Pluto retorts, a drop falls on Eulalie's cheek, she wipes it off with her finger, setting it in her mouth. Her face changes quickly, more sullen as she takes her finger out, “Ew…” she shivers. “Pluto! Quit it!” Morella pleads, “You’re getting tea on the floor!” Pluto quickly stops, no benefit from earning more demerits, he decides.

Over at the other table, Ada sneers at the misfits with prominent disgust before turning away. Last thing she wanted to do was cause a ruckus in front of her darling Prospero, who wasn’t even looking at her, paying more attention to his tea, glancing occasionally at the vacant seat next to him. Montressor kicked his feet up, leaning back in his chair and moving the toothpick around in his mouth, arms behind his head. “So uh,” he began, taking the toothpick out from beneath his teeth, “Anyone seen queenie?”

“I ain’t seen ‘er since yesterday” Will says with a shrug, “Musta slept in late or somethin’” Montressor slowly turns his head, readjusting himself to a normal sitting position, “Are you a fuckin’ dumbass? Queenie ain’t never do no ‘sleepin in’ she’s always ‘ere ‘fore any of us.”

“So what do you suggest happened?” Prospero asks flatly, taking a sip of tea. “Wellll..” Ada began, twirling her hair, “She was in her room this morning!” That got their attention, “Why ain’t she here then?” Will asks, getting a light jab from Monty’s toothpick, “Ow!” He yelps. “I dunno, she said something abou- oh!” Ada turns and spots the woman herself, Annabel Lee. Though, she looked visibly shaken, pulling out a chair and sitting down, silently staring at the fabric of the table cloth as if it spoke. “Woah, you okay?” Ada asks, causing Annabel to perk up, she nervously smiles, “Oh, no. I’m perfectly fine, love.”

“You look pale” Prospero points out, “I’m fine, really.” Annabel insists, taking the tea that was passed to her, her eyes moving away from the porcelain surface, and guiding themselves to the floor. Her being fine was a complete lie, to almost nobody's surprise from the way they side-eyed her throughout breakfast. She suddenly stood up, “Sorry, everyone, I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself.” She’s gone without another word, leaning into Lenore’s ear, “Come along,” She whispers, “What- but-” Lenore attempts to whisper back, but Annabel grasps her forearm, lifting her a little out of her chair, “Now, pet.” Lenore begrudgingly complies as she's dragged inside of a closet while her friends watch, Annabel calmly shuts the door, and keeps her hand on it, being adamant to avoid the knob. “Pet..”

“Oh dear, ‘Pet’ in B flat, you’re disappointed.” Lenore says, sitting down and crossing her arms with a sly smile, “Not really.” Annabel corrects, turning to the other unnaturally wide eyed, “Frightened.” Lenore’s face and posture changes once she grasps the severity of what was going on, untensing her shoulders and standing, approaching Annabel, gripping the sides of her arms with a serious expression. “What happened?” Annabel took a deep breath to calm herself, before opening her mouth to explain;

Before Ada had awoken, I spent due time getting ready for the day. Fixing my curls, changing out of my sleepwear, the usual.

Then, the most unusual thing had occurred, I had caught my reflection looking the opposite way, as if it were looking for something. Then I heard it speak, “Oh dear, of all the times to lose my brush, now is certainly not ideal. You couldn't have waited before she looked at the mirror, could you, Annabel?”

I swear to you, I almost screamed. But, curiosity came over me first. I asked simply, “Hello?” and it stopped and stared at me, almost unable to believe what was happening itself, “Are you able to speak to me?” I asked again, with a deer in headlights expression, and it replied, “You aren’t supposed to be able to…” It moved back, hugging itself, “Oh no no no no no no…” It muttered, curling onto the chair “How…? How?!” I could hear it hyperventilating

“I’m not sure, love… check your breathing, ground yourself.”

“This is bad! Bad! Bad! All of it! The others will think you mad, think me mad!”

I reassured it everything would be okay… but…

Annabel took another breath, holding herself to prevent hyperventilation herself, “It was right, pet, a reflection doesn’t just… speak to you! But… it did. it… it talked back to me…”

#nevermore fandom #nevermore fanfic #nevermore webcomic #nevermore webtoon #lenore nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #annabel lee webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #lenore vandernacht #annabel lee x lenore #pluto nevermore #duke nevermore #eulalie nevermore #berenice nevermore #ada nevermore #morella nevermore #prospero nevermore #nevermore montressor #will nevermore

[bloody-bee-tea]

In my bed

The only reason Suguru doesn’t stumble when Satoru suddenly drapes himself over his back, hanging off him like a monkey, is that Satoru has been doing it so often and so regularly that a part of Suguru expects this to happen at any given moment.

“Where are you going?” Satoru wants to know, at least keeping his voice appropriately low for how close he is to Suguru’s ear and Suguru sighs.

“Off to a mission, remember?” he asks and reaches up to flick Satoru’s forehead.

Yaga told them just a few hours ago during class after all. Satoru really shouldn’t have forgotten this already, but Suguru suspects it’s more that Satoru didn’t even listen in the first place.

“Without me?” Satoru gasps out and Suguru rolls his eyes.

“You have your own mission to go to, Satoru, please, at least try to pay attention to these things,” Suguru sighs out, even though he knows that it’s futile.

Satoru doesn’t care enough to listen to anything the higher-ups have to say and his track record sadly proves him right too, because so far he still excelled in everything they told him to do.

Honestly, it would be infuriating if Suguru didn’t like to see the higher-ups to struggle like they do with Satoru.

It’s one of his few sources of amusement in this school and so he shamelessly enables Satoru whenever he can.

“Bah, mission, schmission. I’ll be done in no time and then what do I do? Be bored to death?”

“You could always pick up a hobby,” Suguru suggests and Satoru makes a thoughtful noise.

“I do have a hobby, though,” he muses and Suguru knows the next words to come out of his mouth are going to be absolutely stupid because Satoru rubs his cheek against Suguru’s like an overgrown, overly affectionate cat. “My hobby is to pester you.”

“Wonderful,” Suguru deadpans and shoves Satoru’s face away, before he can turn fully red.

Satoru doesn’t need to see that.

“Hey,” Satoru exclaims, but he does slide off Suguru’s shoulder and Suguru absolutely refuses to admit that he misses the proximity. “But for real. How long will you take?” Satoru then asks, falling into step next to Suguru and their arms brush together.

It would be easy to reach out for Satoru’s hand, thread their fingers together, but Suguru pushes that thought far, far away. It’s just as easy for that small action to break their friendship and Suguru is not going to take that chance.

“Dunno. They booked a hotel room for me, though, so I’m guessing I won’t be back before tomorrow.”

“No,” Satoru whines out, dramatically dragging his hands over his face before he fixes Suguru with a desperate look. “You can’t leave me alone for that long, I’m going to die.”

It’s nice, to hear Satoru talk like that, because it means he really, honestly does enjoy Suguru’s company and what more can Suguru really wish for?

“A day won’t kill you,” Suguru still promises him. “Besides. You’ll be busy with your own mission and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Not true, I always know when you’re gone,” Satoru grumbles under his breath before he heaves out a sigh. “Fine, I guess, I’ll just wither away in solitude. I hope you remember me fondly if you find the time.”

“Unlikely,” Suguru shoots back and laughs when Satoru’s head flies around to him, his eyes big with surprise and faked hurt.

“You don’t love me at all,” he cries out, crashing into Suguru’s side and slinging his arms around his middle, completely at odds with what he’s saying. “Why are you being so mean to me?”

“Making it easier for you to last a day without me,” Suguru gives back and then pats Satoru’s head with a sigh. “If you wither away, I’ll be devastated. Who’s going to keep me entertained then?” he asks and his heart doesn’t stutter in his chest when Satoru blinks up at him.

“Fair,” he shortly gives back, but shows no intention at all to move away from Suguru.

Suguru doesn’t let that stop him, though, because he has a mission to go to and the sooner he gets started on that, the sooner he’ll be back.

And besides—

“You act as if you’re the only one who is being left alone.”

It’s the closest he’ll come to saying that he’s going to miss Satoru, too, because it will make him insufferable should Suguru ever put that into actual words, but Suguru knows that Satoru understands him when he smushes his face into Suguru’s chest.

“Good,” he mutters but he doesn’t actually say anything else until they reach the entrance of the school.

“This is where I leave now,” Suguru tells him and extracts himself out of Satoru’s clutches. “Behave until I come back, will you?”

“So you mean to tell me I’m not allowed to wreak havoc and chaos on the school?” Satoru blinks at him innocently and Suguru laughs.

“Please let there be a place for me to come back to once I finished my mission.”

“Only because you said please,” Satoru decides and then slaps Suguru’s back. “Be safe.”

“I will. You, too,” Suguru gives back because Satoru does have his own mission to get to and Suguru doesn’t care if he has Infinity or not.

He always tells Satoru to be safe, too.

“Sure thing,” Satoru salutes him and then marches right off, as if the entire previous conversation didn’t happen and it doesn’t matter to him at all if Suguru stays or leaves.

Good thing Suguru knows him better than that; he knows Satoru hates to be the one being left, so he makes sure to always leave first and Suguru is more than willing to wait the extra minute until Satoru disappears behind a building.

It’s only then that he gets going himself.

~*~*~

Suguru is beat when he drags himself back to the school. There might have been a hotel room waiting for him, but the curse was a pesky little thing, annoying the hell out of him and leading him in circles for the better part of the night, so Suguru didn’t get a wink of sleep.

He swears he can hear his bed calling out to him from where he’s standing and he doesn’t have it in him to inform Satoru that he’s back first.

Suguru face-plants into his bed the moment it’s in reach and he swears he falls asleep right then and there.

The last thing he remembers thinking is that his bed smells like Satoru, which must be a trick of his sleep-deprived senses and then that familiar scent is what tips him over the edge to sleep.

He wakes up with Satoru’s scent in his nose as well and it makes his chest ache with longing, even though it’s probably still a figment of his imagination.

There’s no way his bed should smell like Satoru after all.

~*~*~

“Another over-night mission?” Satoru idly asks him, spinning a pen over his fingers.

It’s making Suguru a little bit dizzy, trying to follow it with his eyes and so he’s thankful for Satoru’s distraction.

“Yeah, apparently. What, you going to cry yourself to sleep if I’m not there?” he asks, because for all that Satoru is named the trouble maker of the duo, Suguru damn well knows how to needle him on as well.

He smiles when the pen hits him squarely in the chest.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he smugly says and fights the urge to pinch Satoru’s cheeks when he puffs them up.

“Dream on,” he replies, flopping down over the table. “It’s just—quiet when you’re not here,” he then admits and Suguru sighs.

“Good thing you talk a lot then, isn’t it?”

“But who am I going to talk to? Shoko? She’s going to slice me neatly in half, Infinity be damned,” Satoru gives back and it does make Suguru feel a little bit bad, hearing how dejected Satoru is.

“It’s just one night, Satoru,” he says and slides his fingers into Satoru’s hair, scratching at his scalp. “I’ll be back before you know it, promise.”

“One night is very long,” Satoru mutters, but doesn’t move his head away. “Make sure to be here early, tomorrow. Not like the last time.”

“It wasn’t my choice to run around a stupid curse for the entire night,” Suguru mildly reminds him. “I don’t like being away for too long either.” Being away from you, he doesn’t say.

“Okay,” Satoru gives back, as if that reassurance was all he needed and neither of them mentions Suguru’s hand still in Satoru’s hair, even as they fall silent.

It’s a nice thing to do, right before a mission, Suguru thinks and wonders if he’ll get Satoru to allow him this again in the future.

~*~*~

Suguru comes back in the middle of the night. This curse was decidedly easier to deal with and Suguru would rather sleep at home, in his own bed, than some random hotel room, so he decided to sacrifice an hour of sleep in favour of getting home early.

Everything on campus is dark, which was to be expected; what was not to be expected though, is what Suguru finds in his room.

Because his bed is decidedly not empty when he gets close to it.

Satoru is soundly asleep in it, limbs closely tucked to himself and his face buried in Suguru’s pillow and Suguru thinks back to the last time he came back from a mission.

He had thought his bed had smelled like Satoru then, but he had put it off as a hallucination of his sleep addled mind. Clearly he was wrong to do so.

Suguru sighs with exhaustion. There are three things he can do now: wake Satoru up and make him go back to his own room, go to Satoru’s room and sleep there or simply slide into bed with Satoru because it is, after all, his own.

Normally, Suguru would never consider the last option, because what if Satoru freaks out when he wakes up only to find Suguru in bed with him, but Satoru is literally in his bed right now, so clearly he doesn’t mind too much.

Suguru’s heart beats fast in his chest because surely this must mean something to Satoru as well and maybe it’s not all that one sided, like Suguru had always thought.

But that’s a problem for tomorrow, Suguru then decides and slides right in next to Satoru. He doesn’t so much as stir with the movement, but he does curl a little bit closer to Suguru and Suguru dares to shuffle in close, putting his arm around Satoru’s middle and resting their foreheads together.

He’s asleep in seconds, the soft sounds of Satoru’s breathing following him even into his dreams.

~*~*~

Suguru is rudely awoken by a startled yelp.

“What the fuck,” he hears Satoru mutter before he feels him scramble away and now that finally prompts Suguru to open his eyes.

“What are you doing?” he wants to know, refusing to raise his head because he’s warm and comfy and he wasn’t quite done with sleeping yet.

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” Satoru yells out as he presses himself against the wall.

“This is my bed, yes?” Suguru asks and watches in fascination how Satoru goes bright red in the face.

“You weren’t supposed to be back, yet,” he whispers out, the horror so very audible in his voice and Suguru snorts softly.

“No, shit. Now get back here, I was comfy and now I’m getting cold.”

“Get back?” Satoru asks, clearly not processing what Suguru wants from him and Suguru sighs before he reaches out, wrapping his hand around Satoru’s arm to tug him close again.

“Come here, Satoru,” Suguru says, not letting go until Satoru is crawling back under the blanket, though he seems cautious, his body all rigid lines as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As if he’s waiting for Suguru to kick him out.

“Relax,” Suguru mutters, moving closer to Satoru. “Sleep some more.”

“Are you—going to kill me in my sleep?” Satoru finally asks, going a little pale around the nose and Suguru smiles at him.

“No.”

“Then you’re going to kick my ass once you’re fully rested?” Satoru asks next and Suguru sighs, dragging his eyes back open.

“Why do you want me to be mad so badly?”

“Because this is your bed?”

“Ah, so you do know that,” Suguru teases him and then decides to just fuck it.

He slings his arm around Satoru’s middle and pulls him close, slots him against the lines of his own body.

Satoru is stiff in his hold.

“Relax,” Suguru tries again. “I’m not mad.”

“If you’re not mad, then what are you?” Satoru whispers out, though he slowly relaxes in Suguru’s hold and Suguru hides his face in Satoru’s hair when he rests his hands carefully on Suguru’s chest.

“Happy,” Suguru gives back, nuzzling the top of Satoru’s head. “Thinking of sleeping like this every night.”

“You—I—” Satoru clearly doesn’t know what to say to that and normally Suguru would tease him for it, but he truly is too comfortable for that right now.

“I have missed you,” he says instead, because it’s true and it’s clearly what Satoru was feeling when he crawled into Suguru’s bed as well.

“I missed you, too,” Satoru quietly replies and Suguru nods, thought clearly Satoru is still not satisfied. Or maybe he’s still panicking, you never know with him. “It’s just—what does it mean, Suguru?” he asks, and Suguru hates to hear how his voice shakes over the question.

“I literally just said I want to sleep like this every night, with you, in my arms. What could it possibly mean, Satoru?” he gives back, because for all that he’s certain that Satoru feels the same as him, he can’t quite bring himself to say that he loves him.

Not yet, anyway.

“I see,” Satoru whispers out and then tilts his head to press a kiss to Suguru’s chin. “It means that you don’t mind that I’m here.”

It’s such an understatement that Suguru feels compelled to correct it.

“It means I love having you here.” I love you, he means and he guesses he got his meaning across when Satoru slowly grins at him.

“I love being here, too,” he gives back and Suguru kisses his forehead.

It’s all he can do right now, because he is still sleepy and comfortable and he knows that there could be no thought about sleep if he kisses Satoru on the lips right now, so he decides to schedule that for later, when they both wake up again.

“Sleep some more then,” Suguru tells him and Satoru immediately presses close, wriggles around like a happy cat until Suguru squeezes him in warning.

“Sleep,” he reminds him again and Satoru lets out a content sigh.

“Good night, Suguru,” he whispers out, his lips brushing against the skin of Suguru’s throat and Suguru thinks that Satoru must hear just how fast his heart is beating but he doesn’t comment on it.

Maybe because Suguru can feel Satoru’s heart beat just as fast and this time when Suguru falls asleep it’s with Satoru’s smell in his nose, his body in his arms and the knowledge that they’ll get to do this in the future again and again in his mind.

It’s the best sleep he’s ever gotten. (And waking up to kisses from Satoru is the best way to wake up as well.)

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #getting together #pining #fluff #cuddling and snuggling