#part of the problem is we don’t see him too too often for more than semi brief appearances so im so happy to see him i’ll just accept it

[writing-for-life]

Considering this is a site where so many people have aspirations to become professional authors or artists, I think it’s really astounding that many (often the same) people encourage book piracy. And by that I mean: They don’t just do it behind closed doors (whatever, do what you have to do and keep it to yourself)—they actually package it as some act of immeasurable kindness in the name of “social justice”. And I’d say: If you’re not a professional author and have no experience in or with publishing, hence don’t really understand what it means to make your living as a writer, maybe just… don’t? And if you ever want to sell your books, maybe also just… don’t?

It’s not some cool subversive thing in the name of social justice you’re doing. You’re really hurting authors with it, and it’s in no way comparable to “fighting the big bad streamers.”

Yes, Neil Gaiman will be okay, but if you’re saying it’s okay to do it to him, you’re also saying by extension it’s okay to do it to lesser known authors. And those authors make up the vast (and I mean vast!) majority of authors. But maybe you’re one of those people who think that all artists are minted and picture them in La La Land, entirely possible. If that’s the case, maybe educate yourself what the median income of authors is, be very surprised and wake up. Sometimes, it really helps to think before hitting post. And if rants are not your thing, this is the exit sign because I’m not going to mince my words…

Here are a couple of really good comments from *that* post that people should maybe inwardly digest before they prioritise being oh-so-understanding and supportive of every Tom, Dick & Harry who “can’t afford the book” via piracy (how about buying them one instead if you care so much. No? Thought so) over supporting authors, artists and, yes, libraries:

(Re the last comment: Or use online libraries—they’re also free. That was also part of above post btw. Libby, Hoopla etc exist for a reason.)

If that’s all too hard, then let’s at least stop pretending on here that we care about supporting authors and artists while vocally supporting book piracy. Because really, it’s the same in all arts, even if the symptoms are slightly different—take it from one who is both a published author and used to be a stage performer.

And to say it quite frankly: These “ideas” are probably held by the same people who were tearfully blabbering about the arts being what kept them going during the pandemic and then forgot about it all when lockdown was over. Or maybe they are the same people who think that art is a “jolly pastime”, and that everyone should just be content to “do it for the love of it and give their art away for free because awwwww, so amazing, here, buy food with my exposure bucks.” Go on then, write and consume fanfics and create fanart, problem solved. Just don’t ever ask for the pro art that inspires it again. Ah no, I forgot, it’s all made for money and soulless anyway, innit? Why oh why then do you want to consume and pirate it though?

You’re not progressive and/or supportive of artists. You just have no clue how making a living in the arts works and think your comfort (= “I have to have all the things even if I can’t afford them”) matters more than someone’s livelihood (namely that of the people who devoted their lives to creating that art for you), and it really shows.

I don’t care about anyone’s Google history and even said so several time on here when people asked (this is the latest one, and yes, I see the people who had a “reaction” to this one or the reblog above, but I bet that’s “coincidence”). Do whatever you want to do, it’s your choice, keep it to yourself. But stop pretending that piracy means “caring about the noble cause”, because repackaging entitlement as social activism is performative crap…

#book piracy #authors #publishing #support libraries #support writers #books & libraries #bookblr #books #writers #personal rant

[radioactive-mouse]

I get how tempting it is to just label flower husbands as “toxic” and move on, but god they can be SO much more nuanced than that, it makes me insane.

I think something that goes largely unexplored by the fanbase is c!scott’s obsession with composure. he’s clearly very proud of his ability to stay calm under pressure and be two steps ahead of everyone else— not that he’s afraid to rely on people, him and cleo very clearly have that unshakable trust between them, but i think that sometimes he gets so wrapped up in being steady, reliable scott, never hot-headed, never spiteful, or clumsy, or nervous.

and jimmy is a very real threat to that composure, more often than not.

and i think the way their relationship functions in 3rd life, while steady at the time, definitely set them up for complications down the road. scott, for as fiercely dedicated to his allies as he is, kind of tends to handle jimmy with kid gloves for the earlier parts of their relationship. he’s not very good at the death game, but that’s fine, he doesn’t need to be, scott will take care of it— he’ll get them set up with armor and potions and walls and jimmy can do… whatever it is he does when scott’s not around. mostly getting swindled, if he had to guess. but it’s fine, because scott can be steady, level headed, clever—

i do think most of scott’s ribbing about how he doesn’t know why he lets jimmy do anything when all he does is get scammed half the time is genuinely all in good fun, (jimmy is more than happy to play the fool most of the time, if only to bring a little bit of levity to things) it is super symptomatic of the way scott actually thinks about him. i don’t believe he thinks jimmy is actually stupid or anything, but i do think scott doesn’t quite trust him to get anything done. scott would never in a million years let himself lean on jimmy for any kind of support, because in scott’s mind jimmy’s job is to be bright and brash and only listen to that heart of his that’s too big for his body, too big for this game.

and i think too often we forget just how much losing jimmy destroyed scott in 3rd life. you ever think about how wrecked he must’ve been to place 10th despite being a consistent finalist in every other season? do you think about how all he has left is the burning, white-hot urge for revenge from the second jimmy’s body hit the ground?

i don’t think scott ever wants to feel like that again. i don’t think scott wants anyone to see him like that again. i think scott tries very hard to love jimmy from a safe distance where no one gets hurt. and i think that distance fucking kills jimmy, metaphorically speaking.

(also, tangentially related, i think there’s something to be said for how instantly tango goes “we only have a short time together, your curse will probably get us killed, and that’s fine.” and how jealous scott gets of that sentiment. as far as scott is concerned, tango and jimmy are of the same niche— they feel everything, loudly, even if it causes problems and even if it gets messy. and god that just makes his blood boil.)

i’m just so… entranced with the way scott carries himself with so much confidence and it’s not like he’s insecure, he really believes that, he’s a strong player and he knows that, but also revealing any emotion he deems to be “ugly” or “messy” makes him start to completely unravel. the driving force behind him is always love and loyalty and protectiveness over the people he cares about, but he’s juggling that with being dead set on never getting so close that losing them will completely ruin him.

anyway, this is getting away from me, but i think a lot of jimmy’s frustration with scott comes from the fact that he refuses to let their relationship go both ways, and i think by the time of the infamous “say i love you back” scene in limlife he’s just exhausted with throwing himself repeatedly against scott’s brick wall of perfectionism. that, and the whole Situation between them in double life, which i could honestly make it’s own post but good god i need to STOP typing or this will go on forever. forgive my completely disorganized ramblings i just have been trying to get all this down on paper FOREVER

#FLOWER HUSBANDS. #i’m not over them. i’m not over them at all. #the scott/jimmy/tango/martyn polycule enchants me so…… #well i say polycule. but it is riddled with divorce #ANYWAY #trafficblr #solidaritygaming #smajor1995 #scott smajor #flower husbands #3rd life #double life #limited life #do i tag secret life….. #eh might as well #secret life #mouse.txt #oh god also obligatory none of this is speculation about the ccs for the love of god

[charliemwrites]

Uhhh this is sort of to get me back in the swing of writing since some people may have noticed I haven’t done much this week. It’s… it’s been a week, but that’s fine, those happen.

Anyway, concept comes from @ceilidho’s concept/drabble of “military asset Soap” and heavily inspired also by @391780’s Nikto version. Please go check out theirs because they’re brilliantly written.

(There will be a part 2 because this got longer than expected.)

Content: Verbal Threats, Dirty Talk, Objectification, Dub-Con, Name-calling. Please stay safe! 💕

You thought you were done with this.

Got out by making the best of a bad situation. Honorable discharge following an injury after your last base was infiltrated. “Data analysts” (hackers) can’t have unpredictable hand spasms in the middle of time-sensitive decryptions. So, you got out.

And now you’re all but being dragged back.

You don’t recognize the two stone-faced men flanking you, but you recognize the woman they sit you in front of.

“Laswell.”

She doesn’t look older, but she looks more tired. Like she hasn’t slept since she informed you of your discharge.

“It’s good to see you again,” she says without smiling. It’s good to see you; it’s not good that you’re seeing her. “I wish it was… I wish this wasn’t the situation.”

You arch your eyebrows. Have never known her to speak without measuring the exact dimensions of her words first. She always slides them into spaces perfectly designed for them, builds towers and forts out of syllables.

There’s a treacherous unintentional volume to the word “this” that prickles across your neurons.

“And what’s ‘this’ exactly?” you ask.

“A recently recovered asset,” she explains. You expect a dossier of some kind to be set in front of you. She links her fingers together on top of her desk and looks you in the eye. “He’s asking for you.”

You blink. Never was any good at staring contests with anything but a screen.

“And who,” you speak slowly, poking at the edges of whatever she’s hedging around, “is he?”

A pause, heavy enough to slowly start pressing the air from your lungs.

“Do you remember John MacTavish?” she asks.

You frown, rifling through mental files.

John MacTavish of Task Force 141. Soap. You remember liking him, even though he made a shy, anti-social part of you uneasy. He had a starting problem, and a smiling problem. Or maybe you were the one with the problem - with the way he would often stare and sometimes smile.

You taught him how to find files out in the field. How to take from the enemy and corrupt entire systems. He was good at it. A digital pyromaniac. Used to hand-deliver drives and disks to you, sometimes still bloody and bruised from getting them.

You heard through the gossip vine that he was MIA (or maybe went AWOL?) at some point. Was shipped out to your final assignment soon after.

“Is he the… asset?” you ask.

Her eyes do this funny flicker thing then, and the corner of her mouth tenses. You press your thumb into your palm as your fingers twitch.

“He’s asking for you,” she explains, “and he has information we need.”

Between the lines: we need you to get the information from him. The error code flashing in your mind demands to know why.

“Why?” you wonder.

Maybe you’ve been out too long; forgot that “why” is blasphemy to the government. The answer will always be “because we said so.”

You already miss being out.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself,” she answers and stands.

—

Laswell takes the lead, the same blank-faced guards bring up the rear. This doesn’t feel like you’ve been volun-told to do them a favor. It feels like you’ve been sentenced without a trial.

You’re led down silent, nondescript halls, through heavy gray doors, and into shiny metal elevators. Everything needs a keycard you’ve not been given. The quiet gets heavier, meaner the deeper you go.

There’s the vague sense that you’re underground when Laswell finally stops at a heavily guarded door. She pauses, steals a glance at you that starts a high-pitched alarm in your head.

“He’s different now,” she says finally, “I’m sorry in advance.”

A guard unlatches the door. She nods you ahead to enter first. You hesitate, don’t like the change in light beyond. Behind you, one of the guards shifts. Don’t like that either.

On tingling legs, you slink through the cracked door. It shuts with a gavel’s finality behind you. Alone.

The room you’ve been tricked into barely deserves the word. It’s more a tiny patch of sequestered floor, little bigger than an office cubicle. Clean linoleum and unmarked walls. In the corner, a camera blinks.

But in front of you are bars; a wall of them. A door interrupting the grid-pattern. Beyond, it’s pitch black. You almost make the mistake of stepping forward.

“Stay there,” Laswell’s voice commands. Staticky. An intercom.

From the shadows, a growl. Low, rough. Just this side of human. You plaster yourself to the door you came through, hair standing on end.

The lights come on. It’s only because you’ve frozen that you don’t scream, all of it trapped up in a constricted throat.

The man in front of you is not Soap. It’s not even John MacTavish. It’s a very convincing beast wearing his face. Sort of.

More scars than you remember. A thicker beard too. His signature Mohawk is just a suggestion in the dark brown mess of his hair - like he’s been running his hands through it and ripping out any tangles along the way.

He’s not moving now though. Not except the deep heave of his broad chest. Could be a statue save for that. He’s staring; his eyes are bluer than you remember. Bluer and blanker. Nothing in them except a flicker of something vicious, something covetous. Something that’s peering out from this man.

“We brought her, just like you asked.” Laswell’s voice again, wary and expectant.

Soap doesn’t respond. He inhales deep, gaze still locked with yours. It’s loud, purposeful. Your stomach twists.

“Just as sweet as I remember.” His voice is gravel on ice, resonates in his barrel chest. Fills up the room like a rockslide. You curl your fingers against the door behind you. “You remember me, bonnie?”

It takes your brain a second to realize he’s talking to you. As if he could be speaking to anyone else. Your shadow maybe; she’s always been braver than you.

His eyes twitch, narrowing ever so slightly. His patience winding down, tick, tick, tick.

You jerk your head in a nod. His eyes burn.

“Good.” He cracks his neck. It feels entirely inorganic that he can move just that part of his body. “Would have to punish you if you didn’t.”

You swallow, dig up your voice from the crevice it slunk into.

“Laswell.” Your voice is too high, too nervous. Soap bares his teeth, slams his fist against the all-too-bendable barrier between you two. It shocks you, frightens you. How he could be so still and then so alive all at once.

“John, we brought her. That was the deal.”

You feel sick with something unspoken as he shakes his head.

“No, the deal was you give her to me. Do you see my fuckin’ hands on ‘er? My teeth?”

“The information first.”

You feel sick with rage. Like you’re going to throw up with the disgust that poisons your blood. Your legs nearly give out as you slide to the ground, pressing a hand over your mouth, filling with saliva. Stomach rolling.

Force yourself to breathe through your nose. Would work better if you could close your eyes but prey instinct won’t let you, survival too strong to dare look away from the predator now pacing at the bars. He’s agitated, devolving quickly into anger. You’d tell Laswell to stop pissing him off if that didn’t mean tossing you to him. More than she has, anyway.

“We will take her back if you don’t deliver your end of the deal.”

Like you’re some reward to be given and taken at someone else’s will. An incentive for good behavior.

The military used to make you feel like a dog - sit, stay, bark on command. But you’d take that over being the training treat any day.

Soap snarls. He sounds feral. Spits out a set of numbers, eyes pinned to you. When he’s done, he crouches down. Knees against the wall of bars.

“S’alright, little bird. C’mere and I’ll make it all better,” he coos, beckoning you with two fingers.

You press your lips together against a whimper. His expression twitches. You suck in a breath—

“We’ll need to verify those coordinates first,” Laswell says.

The noise that rips out of Soap makes you shake. You didn’t know people could make sounds like that; like something with teeth and claws and blood matted in its fur. He stands, huge and terrifying.

He curses and threatens (awful, cruel) but Laswell doesn’t respond again. You doubt she’s even listening. And you just stay still and quiet, hoping to avoid his attention altogether, pancaked to the wall.

As is the pattern today, your reasonable hope is eventually dashed. Can almost feel the exact moment Soap’s attention refocuses on you. Like a the click of switch.

And he’s down again, crooning at you so sweetly. Like you didn’t just watch him come within a breath of destroying his cell.

“You know it’s not fair, don’t you,” he murmurs. “You know that I’m owed you. C’mere.”

“I’m not a thing,” you snip, still too high. Almost petulant if not for the frightened crack in the middle. He flashes teeth.

“‘Course you are, hen,” he says, almost laughing. You realize with a jolt that you’ve amused him. “You’re my sweet, pretty thing with the sweet, pretty cunt that I’m gonna fuck and breed.”

Your voice slithers back into the abyss, snatched away by the smoke and shadow promises in his own.

“And you know that’s what you’re for, don’ you?” he continues, voice dripping lower and lower. “You know that you’re mine.”

You shake your head, want to explain that you didn’t have a choice. Government goons have been shuffling you about from place to place, only the illusion of free will, like horse blinders. Keeping you docile and complacent.

You don’t think Soap cares about things like logic or personhood right now though. Or at all.

“Come. Here.”

Hard metal between you, and every atom in your body screams not to comply. So you don’t.

When you shake your head, he snarls and slams his fist into the barrier again. You squeak this time, can’t help it, and try to become one with the wall.

He rages for a few minutes. Demands you, your compliance. At some point you just have to draw your knees up to your chest and lean your head against them. If he could get through, he would have by now. Let his anger become a terrifying background noise, a soundtrack for fear.

It’s when he goes quiet again that the fear returns. Your head snaps up. He’s staring again, still. Just like before. His arms are crossed - biceps huge, straining. There’s a sizable bulge pressed against the bars. Obscene.

“Best get your rest now, little girl,” he rumbles. Even and deceptively calm. “Because when that door opens, I’m not gonna be nice about it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “Stop it.”

A puff of air. You can’t tell if it’s amused or annoyed. “Say it while you can, ‘cause it won’t make a difference later.”

You shudder through your next inhale, heart pounding. Try to wrestle yourself under control, convince yourself that Laswell won’t actually give you up to him. Not when she’s already gotten what she wanted from him.

A sound breaks you from your frantic meditation, slick and wet. You look up without thinking. Soap is fucking viciously into his fist, eyes trained on you. The head of his cock is flushed an angry red, dripping with precum, shiny and needy.

“Regret being a little bitch now?” he growls. “Now that you see what’s going in that prissy little cunt?”

You clench and cramp at the very thought. He’s massive, not just long but thick. You wouldn’t be shocked if your fingers didn’t touch wrapped around him — not that you should be considering those logistics. It’ll just freak you out more.

“Can smell your wet pussy from here, hen. Bet I’ll knock you up on the first try.” He squeezes almost cruelly, knuckles banging against the bars as his hips jerk.

You press your thighs together, trying not to think about it. Not to think about all that bulk pinning you down and using you. Big, rough hands and sharp, mean teeth while he—

“Stop,” you grit out, to yourself this time.

His breath shudders, a rough noise dragging up his throat. You twitch back as cum splatters the floor, coats the metal in milky drops. You stare at the mess, mortified.

“Well?” he rasps and your eyes snap back to his. “Going to lick it up like the bitch you are?”

You swallow and curl up tighter. He takes that for the denial it is.

“S’alright,” he says, “you’ll get a taste soon enough.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #asset soap #asset John soap MacTavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader

[maxillness]

So Good For Her || LH44 x gf!reader

Warnings: 18+, praise kink, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, tub sex, fingering, degrading kink, breeding kink, sub!lewis

Wordcount: 1k

Get ready y'all. Part 2 of If Daddy Knew is coming out on the 26th

It had been a horrible weekend for Mercedes, especially for Lewis

He was tied with Verstappen before the race, and we could all see that the race was judge unfairly

It was an intense race that ended bad for Lewis. All he thought about the whole week up until Sunday was that race and how he really wanted to win

He was devastated

The car was silent as they drove back to the hotel. They entered the hotel lobby, going for the elevator

“You did good, baby” She tried comforting him as they entered the elevator

“No. No, I didn’t. I was horrible” He sighed looking Into the ground

“No, you did all you could” She put her hand on his cheek so he looked at her “I need you to know that you did all you could. This was not your fault. Micheal judged it bad. This is his fault. Not yours. Okay?”

He just nodded at her “Good” She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek “You did good”

They arrived at their floor and got out of the elevator. Lewis took his girlfriends hand as they walked to their room

They took off their jackets and shoes. Lewis wrapped his arms around her torso and buried his face in the crook of her neck

“Wanna go in the tub with me?” He asked and kissed her shoulder

“Of course, baby” She said stroking his arms lightly

There they sat. In the tub. Covered in water. His bare back against her naked chest. He had to slide down, almost laying in the water so his head could rest on her shoulder

“I love you” His eyes were closed as he caressed her legs in the water

“I love you too” Her fingers lightly danced on his chest. Her lips connected to his jaw “You’re so pretty like this. Trying to relax, not to mention on top of me” They both chuckled at her comment

“We don’t do this enough” He sighed taking his hands above the water to intertwined his fingers with hers

“No, I should spoil you more often” She said, kissing the top of his head “I mean, you do deserve it” She said, making him turn his head to look up at her

“I don’t think so” He said looking deeply into her eyes

“Yes you do. You deserve the world, baby” She connected their lips “You deserve more than I can give you” She looked down at his face, his eyes were still closed

He opened his eyes, and was quick to turn his body around so his front was towards her. He smashed their lips together. It was messy and all teeth

“I need you” He whispered once he pulled away

“Okay, but let’s get out of the water first, baby” She said as she caressed his cheek

“No, I need you now” His eyes closed at his desperation “Right here, right now” His lips trailed from her mouth and over her cheek and down to her neck

“Alright, alright. No need to be so greedy” Just as she said her words, Lewis put one of her legs around his waist. His hand travelled down her body and towards her cunt

His lips went to her collarbone as he entered her with one of his fingers. She moaned low as he started moving his finger and added another

He quickened his motions as her moans got louder “Fuck, you’re so dirty, Lewis. Fingering your girlfriend in a tub in the room next to your teammate. He’ll surely be able to hear us” She said trough moans and groans

He moaned against her skin as he heard her words. He started sucking and biting her skin lightly, but making sure not to leave marks

“Fuck, Lewis. Fuck, get out of me, I wanna take care of you” She told him. He did so. It was hard, but she managed to turn them around so Lewis was laying back against the tub and she was on top

It was hard since the tub was small, but she found a comfortable position to where he could enter her without a problem. They both moaned loud, not caring if they could hear them from the other room

“Fuck. Please move, baby” Lewis begged as he put his hands on her hips. She started at a slow speed. His whines and moans she drew out of him, encouraged her to go faster

She found a rhythm that was comfortable for them both. He started bucking his hips up to meet her motions

“Fuck, you fill me up so good, baby” She praised him, feeling his cock twitching inside of her. She leaned down, starting to sucking on his skin

His reaction to her words, was to grip the skin on her hips tighter. At the moment he didn’t care a cent that it would leave marks, even though he knew he wasn’t allowed

In the time being, she didn’t care he marked her, she just wanted him to feel good. She wanted him to know he was being good for her

“Fuck, please, baby. I’m gonna- Ah. Please, can I cum?” His voice was sweet but strained. She could feel him twitch inside her and his thighs were starting to shake

“You wanna cum in me? Wanna have the chance to get me pregnant?” She sat up and looked down at him with a seductive glint in her eyes

“Fuck, yes” He didn’t t even think about the question. He was quick to answer with a slow nod “Please, can I cum?” As he looked up at her, she could see his eyes were starting to water

“Yeah, cum for me baby. You deserve it” Right as the words left her mouth, he came, and a few seconds later, she came as well, collapsing on top of him

“Fuck, you were so good for me, baby” She said as he slipped out of her and she kissed his cheek

“Couldn’t have done it without you” He said with a cheekily smile on his face as he looked at her with pure love in his eyes

“Don’t go all romantic on me” She said kissing him tenderly

#smut #dom!reader #formula one #Lewis Hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #Lewis Hamilton x reader smut #Lewis Hamilton smut #sub!lewis hamilton

[shanastoryteller]

Happy valentine's day! Could we have more female Naruto?

a continuation of 1 2 3

Naruto clocks Gaara the moment she sees him.

She keeps her smile wide and stance easy, putting her hands on her hips and squinting at the Sand kids. Sasuke and Sakura shift uneasily before deliberately relaxing, picking up on her attitude even if they don’t know why. “My dad told me about you guys! We should stick together, being the kids of kages and all.”

Her father had told her to be wary but hadn’t told her why. She has to believe he doesn’t know. The other option is that he somehow thought that she wouldn’t notice.

“You must be Naruto,” Temari says with a false friendliness that Naruto might not have been able to pick up on if she hadn’t spent her whole life with people loving her or hating her and having a disturbing habit of masking one as the other. “These are my brothers, Kankuro and Gaara. Are these your teammates?”

As if her father hadn’t warned her about the hosting kage’s kid. “Yeah, Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno.”

Neither of those names garner any reaction, but they wouldn’t. Sasuke’s status as Uchiha is obvious at first look and Sakura comes from a civilian family.

“Hi,” Kankuro says shortly.

Gaara says nothing at all, looking at them with those wide, empty eyes.

They’re going to be a problem. He’s going to be a problem.

~

Naruto knows better than to go to her father with anything important and if she tells her mother then she’ll try and pull her from the chunin exams, which is the last thing any of them needs.

She hates how often she ends up crawling back to her ex-fiance for help.

“Naruto-hime,” Kakashi greets, unruffled at her vaulting in through his window and landing on his counter in a perch.

This place is so depressing. She gets why her mom wants to put in some wallpaper or something so badly, but Kushina is still mad at Kakashi for weaseling out of their engagement, so she just grumbles and complains but won’t do anything about it.

“You’re proctoring the second part of the exam,” she says. The format of the exam is supposed to be secret, but it’s not like that’s ever stopped her from breaking into her father’s office. “I need you to rig the fight.”

He raises his eyebrow. Or maybe he’s raising both of them, but she can’t see under the headband. “That’s cheating.”

“Cheating’s allowed,” she counters. “I need you to make sure I face Gaara.”

He blinks slowly. Or winks. “Your father will kill me.”

“It’s supposed to be random,” she says. “How will he know?”

His silence takes on a decidedly guilty air.

“He told you to make sure I didn’t face him,” she guesses, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“He’s worried about you,” Kakashi says.

Too little too late as far as she’s concerned. As if his worry has ever done her any good. As if his worry has ever done anything but get in her way, just like it is right now. “Fine. Make sure he faces Sasuke then.”

“There are easier ways to get out of an engagement,” he says. “You don’t need to arrange to have him killed.”

Her eyes narrow and it takes everything in her not to growl. Growling is one of those things she’s not allowed to do because it’s too much of a tell. “I suppose you’re the expert on that.”

Kakashi doesn’t say anything. He’s spent her whole life not saying anything and it never gets less infuriating.

“Just do it,” she says. “What do you care anyway?”

Naruto is halfway out his window when he says, “I care,” and he can’t see her so she doesn’t bother to hold back her eyeroll.

That’s never done her any good either.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #captainprocrastinator4life #naruto

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 5

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Jake tries to fall asleep beside you, Steven is there to adore you in the morning and Marc is still struggling. What happens when Jake breaks his lifelong silence?

Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector x reader. Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings/notables: Fluff, longing, complicated relationship stuff. Angst. References to past abuse. Struggles with addiction/alcoholism and its effects. Probably inaccurate description of addiction. self-worth probs. Violence is mentioned. kissing and touching, implied sex but no smut, nothing explicit or gender-specific. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on “With You”...

Oh, he liked the idea of getting under your skin. He liked it a lot. 

“Really?” He teased. “You mean you don’t scare the shit out them in the middle of the night? Follow them around? Drive them crazy...wearing that?” He threw your words back at you. 

What a little shit. 

“No,” you steadily answered him, your gaze open and honest. “I guess I’m just here to drive you crazy.” 

With little convincing, Jake got ready for bed, so he could join you in finally getting some rest. Your 3am alarm went off as he was washing up, so you silenced the one for 4:00.

Conveniently it was your day off, so no other alarm was set. Steven did have one class mid-day, but otherwise, also had the day off.

As Jake slid under the covers, you reached to turn off the bedside lamp. Then you were left in the same position you found yourself in that first night.

The night he held your hand.

Remembering what you'd whispered to him in the dark that night, you softly uttered, "I'm glad you came back to me, Jake."

"I'll always come back to you," he swiftly replied, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it.

Slowly, you reached for him, resting your hand over his. He immediately slid his fingers through yours, just like the first night, and whispered goodnight.

Jake always came home while you were asleep, and he didn't even front every day. Usually he was only there when Khonshu bid him take to the nighttime alleyways and rooftops, or when Marc and Steven were in an exorbitant amount of danger...

...which was unfortunately more often than either of them (or you) were aware. Marc had a long and colorful past, in which he'd made many enemies - some of them, through no fault of his.

Abused, with an undiagnosed disorder, there were sections of his life missing, and problems he just couldn't control. That, combined with blackouts from drinking and a mighty temper, when provoked, had left a trail of...unfortunate mishaps. And pissed off former associates and enemies.

Time eased many grievances, and Marc had handled several problems on his own, years ago. But even after Jake himself had dispensed with Arthur Harrow, there still lingered fingers of his network. And those weren't the only problems.

Just last week, Jake had disposed of a man who had followed you home from work two nights in a row. He simply watched the first night, choosing restraint, but after he saw the mysterious man following you a little too closely the second night, well - that man did not live to see a third.

At first, Jake wondered how Marc could be so naive. He expected that more from Steven. Well, not naivety, exactly, but a general "chin up" outlook on life that the he radiated.

Steven, although far more direct, outspoken and cautious than most people gave him credit for, was an overall ray of sunshine. In protecting the system, Jake wasn't just protecting his own body, or Marc, who he had known since his youth, he was protecting Steven - the one Marc simply could not do without.

And Jake supposed that's what it all came down to. Marc had settled into a beautiful domesticity with both you and Steven. And maybe that was why Marc couldn't perceive the danger you were all in.

Jake was happy to keep it that way. If Marc was not only safe, but thriving, if Steven was growing and learning, putting his beautiful mind to work, and the two of them had someone they loved? Then Jake had done his job. As long he stayed on top of things, it could all work out.

But the drinking relapse was a problem. And he hadn't counted on you meeting him.

Jake had often wondered how Marc and Steven - for lack of a better word - shared you. He wondered if they ever got jealous. Or if you ever showed any preference for one over the other. That's why he thought it best to stay out of it. Not only did he hope to keep his head down and do his job, he was concerned that getting mixed up with you would only confuse him.

That all went right to hell when he carelessly barreled into your bedroom the other night, having forgotten to have Marc or Steven check in with you earlier, or go to bed beside you. He was equally panicked and wonderfully elated for this mishap.

And now, as your soft breathing slowed, he tried to pretend this night was like every other time he'd slipped through the window to find you asleep.

But it wasn't and he couldn't.

He wished you were still awake. He wished he had more time to hear your voice, to watch the flurry of you around the room, picking up his things, worrying after him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he remembered the press of your body against his - the soft satin hugging your shape.

Shit. He could use a cigarette. Or maybe he could beat the hell out of someone.

It was difficult to blow off steam when Marc - a.k.a. their body - couldn't drink and with Marc and Steven engaged to you. Jake tried to respect that. He had the right to his own life, sure, but he just couldn't bring himself to "blow off steam" in that way since you got engaged. You weren't his, but he was faithful to you anyway.

As if sensing his irritation in your sleep, you rolled over, burying your face into his shoulder, snuggling up to him comfortably.

Jake was walking a very fine line between soothed and riled up. If your leg made its way across his thigh, he was going to lose his shit.

Only a few hours later, as the sun struggled to climb into a gray sky, you woke up, tangled in someone. Wondering who might greet you each morning always brought the tiniest smile to your face, but on this morning, just for a moment, you wondered if it was Jake.

Your body stiffened. Did you sleep like this for the past few hours? Did it bother him? You hadn't ever thought of what you might do in the night when Jake got home from his escapades.

As the man beside you continued to breathe evenly, in and out, you decided that three hours of sleep was definitely not enough.

Hours later, you awoke to the domestic sounds of the kitchen. You smelled cooked food and heard the sink's water running, along with the clang of a pot or saucepan.

The sun had made its way through the morning fog, and a sliver of it poured through the crack between the drawn drapes and the window.

After stretching like a very satisfied cat, you freshened up in the bathroom and headed back to your closet to decide what to wear for your day off.

Steven was waiting for you on your bed, perched on the edge.

"Morning, my love," he hummed cheerily, his eyes raking down your body appreciatively. "See you've got on those nice satin pajamas I gave you."

Glancing down at yourself, you softly smiled. "Indeed."

"You're so bloody lovely," he breathed, eyes darkening as he reached out his hand to beckon you back to bed.

Feeling absolutely adored and a little frisky, you skittered over, ready to pounce, when he held up two hands to stop you.

"Careful, darling, I've made you breakfast. Or brunch, rather. It's eleven o'clock," he laughed, nodding toward the tray sitting in the middle of the bed.

Eyes wide, you beamed - but it didn't stop you from climbing onto his lap, just...carefully.

"You are an angel." Locking your arms behind his neck, you dragged your hips forward until you were flush against his body. Rubbing your nose against his, you giggled as he chased after your lips.

"Feeling cheeky this morning, are we?" he tutted after trying and failing to kiss you a few times. "Come here, you." Gently gripping your face in one hand, he opened his mouth hotly over yours. Sucking your lips one at a time, he teased you right back, easing one strong arm around your back. His forearm flexed, holding you firmly as he thrust up against you.

"Steven," you gasped, shifting in his lap to feel him just where you wanted him. Licking into his mouth, you pushed your fingers into his curls, tugging just hard enough for him to jerk deliciously against you again.

The two of you went on that way until he laid back on the bed, pulling you on top of him.

"Steven, Steven, wait--"

Too late. The tray carrying your breakfast spilled all over the bed, some of the jam-covered toast landing on Steven's adorably oversized sleeve.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Scurrying off the bed, you rapidly gathered up the mess, hands bumping into Steven's as he struggled to help you.

"Thank goodness I've left the tea on the table then, yeah?"

You burst out laughing.

You and Steven cleaned up the bed, finished breakfast (at the table) and dressed in cozy clothes for a day off together. Steven decided missing one class wouldn't hurt anything, since he had high marks in every course.

"Thank you for taking care of me this morning, my love," you sighed contentedly, draping your legs across his lap as you relaxed on the couch. "I noticed you pulled the drapes closed so I could sleep in."

"Oh...must've been Marc, I s'ppose," he mused, rubbing up and down your leg. "Wasn't me."

"Oh, okay. But it was you that cleaned up the broken bottle the other morning, right? Before I woke up and made breakfast for Marc?"

Steven's head whipped around so fast. "Sorry, what? Marc broke a bottle? Darling--"

"It wasn't like that, I promise. It was an accident," you soothed. Reaching for his hand, you squeezed it gently, forgetting, in that moment, who could have cleaned up the bottle.

"Everything's a bit odd lately, innit?" He spoke up after a few moments. "Khonshu scaring the life out of Marc like that, deceivin' us both. Bloody stupid pigeon."

"I'm sorry, baby." You felt a shade guilty having talked to Jake twice when Marc and Steven had yet to even meet him.

"Not your fault, love. The old bird's the one to blame. Him and this other mysterious bloke I've got up here." He tapped one finger to his forehead.

"Jake, you mean." You eyed him cautiously. Feeling like you hadn't seen Steven as much for the past few days, you felt the need to confess - catch him up. "I talked to him again last night. Did Marc tell you we'd met?"

Dark eyes cut over to yours - unreadable - a rarity in your warm and open Steven. "Didn't have to. Spoke to him myself."

You gasped a little dramatically. "Y-you talked to Jake? He talked to you?"

"A bit, yeah," Steven sighed. "A bit. Might have told us we were still entangled with Khonshu so Marc didn't have to wake up in an alley like that. It's no bloody wonder he's had a rough go of it."

Gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, you inched a little closer to him on the couch. "So...you're angry with him then. With Jake."

Shaking his head, Steven's gaze dropped. "He's got his own life I s'ppose. Rather used to the way things are with Marc, is all."

"Must be hard, sweetheart," you sweetly sympathized, wishing you could fix any and everything for these men you loved.

"Not your fault," he softly repeated, reaching up to caress your cheek. "He does seem a bit taken with you, though."

Oh god.

"R-really," you squeaked. "Jake said that?"

"Not exactly, but...I gathered," Steven mused, his fingers trailing down over your throat to rest along your collarbone, which he traced carefully. "Made me wonder if you'd worn that lovely satin for him, if I'm honest."

You gulped. "Well...not for him, exactly. I did want to talk to him in a little more than Marc's t-shirt. I want answers too."

The corner of his mouth turned slightly upward, reminding you of Jake. "You're a vision in anything, darling - bare legs and t-shirt, or black satin. I certainly understand why he fancies you."

You skin heated up as you tried to decide how to respond.

And just like Jake the previous night, Steven seemed to enjoy you flustered like this. Giving you a devilish smile, he trailed his fingers down your arm.

"Steven...you're my fiancé," you finally managed, a little breathless. "Jake and I have only spoken twice. It will take a little more than crawling in the window at night to get to know one another."

Nodding, Steven asked, "But you would...like to get to know him?"

"Of course I would," you instantly answered, as if it were obvious. "Of course I want to know someone in our lives like this - part of you and Marc, and...honestly, someone who has you all out at night doing god knows what."

Reaching for your fiancé, you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Besides, I doubt Jake said he fancies me," you chuckled. "Doesn't really sound like him."

"Ohhh, it doesn't, does it?" Steven laughed out. Studying you closely, he added, "Would you like to know what he really said? 'Bout you?"

Spellbound, you nodded as Steven leaned in close. "I'm not going to tell you. That's between you two. But I will tell you what I think, if you care to know."

Climbing across his lap, you touched your forehead to his. "As long as it's something good, baby."

"Oh it is," he breathed against your mouth.

He never told you. But you did finish what you'd started in the bedroom.

After all the recent late night activities, plus a vigorous couple of rounds in bed with Steven, your sated bodies drifted off to sleep...

...which inevitably led to you waking up from your nap, wondering who would be greeting you. The flat was quiet and you were alone.

Feeling a little more relaxed and rested than you had felt in days, you found the clothes Steven had yanked off your body just a couple hours before. You didn't want to waste one more second of your shared day off by sleeping.

After checking the bathroom and the living room, you finally found a note in the kitchen from Marc.

On the roof. - M

Finding some shoes and Marc's tan hoodie, you grabbed your phone, realizing Marc had sent you the same message via text, just in case.

A few minutes later, you made your way out to enjoy the chilly but decently sunny day. A rare treat indeed.

"Hey there," you sweetly greeted, walking up beside Marc, purposely bumping your shoulder against his. "Where's your jacket? It's cold."

He glanced over at you, smirking. "You're wearing the one I like. Looks better on you anyway."

Even though Marc was a little taller than you were, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders as if it might warm him up.

"What are you doing?" He chuckled, already a bit cheered up by your presence.

"I'm protecting you. Like I said, it's cold."

Glancing down at you, he shook his head, amused, while his heart flared with adoration. You were always taking care of him in one way or another. He could never deserve you.

"Come here," he whispered, pulling you into his arms, folding you close. "There, now I'm warm."

"Good," you returned, nuzzling into his neck.

He held you in silence for a few minutes, rubbing up and down your back lovingly.

From what little you knew of Jake, you were fairly certain that Marc was the quietest of his alters. It was nice sometimes, to just be together in contented stillness.

But unlike Jake, there was no one in the world you knew better than Marc. And he was neither content, nor prone to remain still for much longer. Itching to prod about what troubled him, you waited longer still. You had learned to wait him out and he had learned to trust you...confide in you.

"I, uh..." he cleared his throat, breaking the silence after a while. "I came up here because I was thinking about...having a drink."

Oh.

Releasing you, as you knew he would after an admission like that, he folded his well defined arms over his chest. "Sorry." He stared out over the city, wondering what you would think of him - of how he kept letting you down.

Matching his pose, you gave him just enough space to confess, while keeping close enough to ground him.

"Sorry for what?"

Huffing out an irritable sigh, he frowned. "You know what. Sorry for wanting to. For...fucking everything up, for letting you down."

"I see," you softly returned. "Is that all?"

Turning his head, he started at you. "Is that not enough? You need a longer list?"

"No," you shrugged, keeping your gaze fixed on the cityscape. "Just asking if there's anything else you're trying to punish yourself for today."

"There's a never-ending, extremely long fucking list," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Where do I even begin?"

Turning your body to face him, you waited a moment for him to calm down. "How about we start with what brought you up here today? Did something happen? Did you talk to Steven? Or Jake? Or maybe Addiction is just being the annoying bitch that Addiction is?"

You could see that he was already relieved to have you facing him, engaging with him. Marc could fight with the empty, thin air if he wanted to, because the person he fought hardest with was himself.

"I did...talk to Jake," he finally confessed, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "He, uh...he actually apologized...for what happened in the alley, with Khonshu."

"Okay," you slowly nodded, your heart rate doubling at the thought of Marc and Jake interacting. "And how did that make you feel?"

"Like an idiot," he huffed, pushing a hand through his hair. "I should have known that Khonshu would never leave us alone." His hands landed on his hips - a trademark Marc-is-annoyed stance. "I should have known it wasn't safe, especially for you."

"What does that mean?" you hesitantly questioned. Surely he didn't mean he was unsafe for you, or Jake was... You started to worry for just a moment, that he would try to do one of those stupid 'you're safer without me' speeches that superheroes were always doing in films.

Like hell. Khonshu could shove his bony beak right up his bony ass. He was not fucking with your engagement, or your life.

Seeing your distress, Marc reached for your shoulders. "Jake saved your life last week," he explained. "Someone was following you home from work."

"He...what?" You gasped. "Who? Jake told you this?"

"Don't know who," Marc replied, his jaw clenching in fury at the thought of anyone even noticing you, let alone trying to stalk you. And to think he had no idea - no inkling that you were in danger... it was unbearable. "Doesn't matter. He's gone now. I just can't believe I let that happen to you and I didn't even realize..."

Releasing you, he paced a few steps away, and back again. Back and forth, punishing himself. For not perceiving that danger still followed him around - followed you. For not being the one to save you. For not recognizing someone else was in his mind, in their body. For being the absolute most useless and pointless of his alters. For all these things compiling and making him want to drown it all at the bottom of a bottle. For being a worthless alcoholic. For being like her...

Marc was the walking embodiment of the phrase, 'that escalated quickly...'

You knew it was bad once he stopped pacing and dug the heels of his hands into his forehead. Steven would probably be joining you momentarily. Or maybe Jake.

"Marc?" You softly called, gently reaching for his wrists to stop him hitting himself in the head. You didn't pull or try to halt his motion, you simply allowed your fingers to circle his wrists. As soon as he realized that his banging motion was jerking your arms too, he stopped, allowing you to hold onto his wrists, rubbing your thumbs carefully over his skin.

"There you are," you soothed, granting him the most gentle smile and pulling his hands down to his chest. "I think you kept this conversation going without me. Probably started telling yourself a whole lot of bullshit...does that sound about right?"

Sometimes you would undercut the most dramatic of his meltdowns with deceptively gentle sarcasm. It always seemed to disarm Marc - your comments showed him your tenderheartedness rather than your slight teasing feeling like mockery. You truly had a gift for it.

You didn't wait for his verbal answer. His silence was compliance. You kept hold of his wrists, there against his chest, and tried to fill in the blanks.

"I'm guessing you're blaming yourself for not knowing everything that's ever going to happen, for not predicting the future, for not knowing every corner of your mind, and for being afflicted with an addiction. Am I close?"

His jaw clenched, this time in anguish, rather than fury.

"You don't...you don't have to do this," he choked, avoiding your gaze. "You shouldn't have to do this."

"Like I hell I shouldn't," you shot back. "I marrying you in 52 days. And on that day, I'm going to vow to love you for better or for worse, in sickness and in health - you know the rest. This is exactly what I should be doing."

"I'm sorry," he brokenly whispered. "I'm sorry I'm like this. I hate it. I hate..."

"What are you like, sweetheart? How is it that you think you should be?"

Marc shook his head, his eyebrows pinched with worry. "I-I don't even have a job or go to school, or always make you smile or feel better, like Steven. I can't even protect you, like Jake. I have nothing to give you. I can't think of one reason to even--"

"Don't you dare," you warned. "Don't you dare compare yourself to them - they are a part of you." Releasing a shaky sigh, you realized then how bad things must have gotten for Marc before he ever even picked up a bottle.

This was deeper than one encounter with Khonshu. He was calling his whole self-worth into question, comparing himself to Steven and now Jake. He hadn't failed you. Maybe you had failed him.

"Look, I don't claim to be any kind of an expert on addiction or DID or marriage," you explained to him. "I only know what I know. When Jake saved my life, you were there. You are a part of him. And-and Steven - his amazing mind is your mind too. This addiction you have - they all have it! I understand you are distinct people, and I respect that. And I don't pretend to know what you're going through or what it feels like to be you, but baby..."

Squeezing his hands, you peered up at him pleadingly. "You were my first love. I knew you first. I loved you first. You are the reason I'm here. And Steven. And Jake. We all love you, Marc and we need you. We're with you. Who else is going to help Steven remember to do his homework? Or make my coffee the way I like it? Or fix the sink every time it leaks?

"Who is going to make me feel like the most special person in the world, make me laugh, make me the best toast for breakfast--"

"Uh, that would be Steven," Marc admitted, his voice softening. "Steven does those things for you."

Thinking back through what you'd just said, you nodded. "True. He does make better toast than you but his coffee-making skills are shit."

Marc cracked a smile. Just a tiny one.

"And you do make me laugh. And make me feel special. Why do you think Steven is the only one who does that?"

"Because...I don't know, because he's so good at it," Marc shrugged, calming down a little more. Your candor was somehow soothing because he never had to wonder where he stood with you.

"Baby, where do you think he gets that from?" You stared at him pointedly, waiting for him to get it. "How many years did you try to protect him, to keep him safe?"

"Yeah, but I fucked that up too," he argued. "He was pissed when he found out about me, remember I told you that."

"Only a first," you reminded him. "But since then, you're literally his best friend. You keep him grounded. And I know it's true for Jake too. You're his moral center."

"Really," Marc scoffed, "then he's fucked."

You rolled your eyes. "You are. From what little I know of Jake, he doesn't seem all that bothered by violence... by doing whatever he feels he needs to do, for you or for Khonshu. Don't you see?"

Marc shook his head.

"When you have to use violence, you hate it, because it was used on you. You've agonized over the lives you've taken, because you value life. What is more morally centered than that?"

Finally releasing your hands, Marc rubbed his face with a long sigh. "I told myself I wasn't going to do this to you. That I was just going to go to a meeting and talk to you after. But...but I thought if I left to go to a meeting that I might stop by the store and there would be a drink, you know, just waiting..."

His hands found their way back to his hips. "What do I do?" He gazed at you as if everything in the world hanged on your answer.

"This," you said confidently. "You take a beat...take a breath, talk to me. Exactly this, baby. Everything you need to be doing, you are doing right now: admitting you're tempted to drink, stopping and thinking first, going to meetings..."

You counted his victories off on your fingers, "Using your support systems, being honest about your feelings, even the really fucking hard ones. This is exactly what you do, Marc. You are literally my hero."

Completely taken aback, his lip trembled. "W-what? No...I-I'm not."

Folding your arms over your chest, you narrowed your eyes, waiting a beat.

"You're not? Shit. I must have been thinking of someone else then." Cracking a grin, you inched toward him slowly. "You're so damn stubborn, Marc Spector, but you have met your match. Game fucking on."

Reaching for his wrists, still planted defiantly on his hips, you pulled his hands into yours. "Now, is there anything I can do to make you feel better today? I could walk you to your meeting? Or fix you some matzah ball soup? I've been practicinggg," you sang, a little playfully.

Sometimes acting like a dork really cheered up your grumpy fiancé. Maybe it would work.

"Please, god no," Marc laughed out, "it was more like matzah meal sludge. I think I could have built a sandcastle with it."

Giggling, you released his hands, sliding your arms around his torso. "Okay, fair enough. Maybe we'll do something else then."

"Yeah, like what?" He shot back, some of the tension finally draining out of his tense body as he wrapped his arms around your back.

"How about a massage?" You suggested. "You love it when I play with your hair. You could lie down on my lap, relax..."

"You're just trying to get my head between your legs, aren't you?" Marc chuckled, narrowing his eyes.

You smiled innocently up at him. "Always."

"Come on, it's freezing out here," he laughed, guiding you back toward the doorway with his arm around your shoulders.

"Still feel like a drink?" You asked, your candor never ceasing to amaze him.

"Only if you make me eat your matzah ball soup," he teased.

Just him joking was a good thing. And he probably would have you walk him to a meeting later in the day. One step at a time.

"You're really doing it, you know? I'm really proud of you," you sweetly affirmed as the two of you made your way back down to your flat.

"Thank you," Marc evenly answered, after a long silence. He hadn't really been sure how to reply until the two of you were back inside your living room. "For everything."

"One day at a time, my love. Today, you're doing it. You're doing everything right."

Wondering what he would ever do without you, Marc pulled you close, gently swaying with you in the silence of your flat. He had always felt so hard to love - his childhood had made sure of that. But you loved him hard.

@stormydaysxx laaundromat @kindlover @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal

@rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face 

idk if all the tags work. I tried!

#with you fic #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x you #jake lockley x you #marc spector x gn!reader #steven grant x gn!reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight #mcu #oscar isaac fic #moon boys #moon knight system

[starlazergazer]

Senators Shadow

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Summary: Anakin is your regular Jedi guard whenever your job in the senate brings you to Coruscant which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t spend the entire time practically ignoring you making It clear he didn’t really want to be there. Until something changes on this trip and the two of you start to become close.

Warnings: Swearing, some jealous Anakin, scene where the readers being shot at from a crowd, that should be it

Word Count: 10K (may have gotten a bit carried away with this one but I hope its worth it!)

A/N: I’m a sucker for an enemies to lovers type thing plus a jealous Anakin moment so I wrote this to amuse myself (cause what’s the point of being a writer if you can’t write a fic for yourself once in a while?) Easily the longest one I’ve written so I hope you enjoy!!

You never really liked having to be on Coruscant. Things moved too fast here, you were always rushing from one meeting to another, prepping for speeches, consulting others, it often felt like you never got a chance to breathe only making you long for the minute you could leave and go back home.

And the longer you had to stare into Anakin’s eyes, the more you felt that longing grow.

“I appreciate the concern Jedi Skywalker” you addressed the man before you formally, interlacing your fingers and setting them on your desk, pushing forth an air of professionalism and authority “but I do not need a jedi guard for the time that I’m here”

A hint of a smirk graced his lips at your words, however, nothing more than its ghost ever appeared, a twitch in the corners of his lips. Often you wondered if you simply read too much into his expressions. “and I’m afraid your excellency that both the senate and the jedi council disagree”

There was no denying that Anakin was incredibly good looking, even if you tried to ignore that as much as possible, this simple fact was enough to have the people within the capital constantly whispering about him. Beyond this, however, he also had the reputation of being devilishly charming. You never got the chance to know that side of Anakin.

Sometimes you see glimpses of that version of him, you certainly did when you first met him as he introduced himself with a boyish grin and a look that had your cheeks stained scarlet, but since that first encounter it has been nothing but this stoic, aloof jedi that was now before you. And some stupid part of you wondered if it had been something you said that first night that pushed him away.

“Alright this is, however, my person we are talking about” you argued back, fighting down your own annoyance at his persistence “I get final say in what happens to it and that includes whether or not I have someone guarding it”

His answer was quick and to the point, as it always was “that is not how this works”

And oh how you loathed his complete lack of emotion, here you were out on a limb trying to reason with him, trying to compromise, trying to get something, anything out of him and still he responded as if you were little more than a talking brick wall.

“Then tell me Jedi Skywalker” You tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm yourself down, unable to keep the bite completely out of your words “how does this work?”

He leaned back in his chair causally, crossing his ankle over his knee, exuding confidence as he stated simply “either you let me act as your guard or you don’t make the speech next week”

You raised an eyebrow back at him, your voice dropping to a dangerous level “excuse me?”

“the jedi council has it on good authority there is going to be an attempt on your life so the senate is not going to let you on the floor unless they have reason to believe you aren’t going to die upon it” he explained indifferently, as if you were the one being ridiculous here.

“Wouldn’t resources be better spent actually looking for the person threatening my life then?” you pointed out with a sigh, posture slumping over slightly as you spoke, resigning yourself to the shadow being forced upon you for the next week.

“Oh we do have people on that” he assured you “just not me”

“No you’re on guard duty” you rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m on guard duty” he echoed back and you tried to ignore how hollow the words came from him, it would seem he was as happy about this assignment as you were.

And you wished you had a biting remark back for that, not fully ready admit just why his words bothered you so much, but you didn’t, instead you were left staring at Anakin in the chair before you, him doing the same as a brief silence fell over the two of you before a knock at the door broke it, one of your aide’s, head popping through the doorway.

“I have Jace here to see you senator”

You felt the smile grown naturally on your face at the news, unaware that your best friend and quite possibly the only person who could make this week better was even on Coruscant.

“Thank you please send him in” you nodded at her, eyes flicking back down to Anakin’s form, smile slowly dropping from your face as your gaze met his small glare “are we done here jedi?”

“It would appear so” he nodded stiffly, pushing himself up to a standing position, his mouth open, ready to say something when a new voice cut him off.

“Y/N Y/L/N it has been far too long”

A giggle escaped past your lips as Jace slipped into the room with wide arms, you not hesitating to meet him halfway across the room, more than happy to be caught up in his bone crushing hug as a greeting.

“Jace how could you not tell me you were going to be here” you chastised him with a small hit of his arm once he set you down, the grin never once leaving your face, you weren’t sure you could admit to even him how badly you needed someone on your side this week.

“Thought I’d surprise you” he shrugged with a wink and you were so excited to see him you almost missed the other voice as it spoke up from across the room.

“Senator”

Your head whipped around to meet Anakin’s gaze, a raised brow silently asking your question for you.

“I’ll be outside the room”

You didn’t have time to give any response before he was ducking out the door, finally leaving you and Jace alone.

“You have a babysitter” Jace mused with a smirk on his lips as he made his way to the bar cart in the corner, making the two of you a drink without being asked as you slumped down into one of the chairs before your desk.

“I have a babysitter” you groaned. The words, now that they were in the open, cementing themselves in reality “and it just had to be Anakin fucking Skywalker”

Jace snorted as he brought the drinks over, wordlessly handing you one as he sat in the chair next to you “of course it’s Anakin Skywalker, it’s always Anakin”

You furrowed your brow at him, taking a sip of your drink “it is not always Anakin, last time I had Master Obi-wan”

“Because Anakin was on a mission in Crait for nearly a month at that time” Jace pointed out with a smirk making you frown.

“I’m sorry you just know Anakin’s schedule at all times?”

“I knew about it last time because like I said you always get Anakin as security” he chuckled shaking his head at you as if it were obvious.

“I do not” you insisted still, mind racing as you thought back to the last time you had been assigned a jedi that wasn’t Anakin “Just last year I had Master Kuno”

“mmmm when you made that speech denouncing the banking clan” Jace hummed softly as he thought “I believe Anakin was on medical leave then”

You shook your head at your friend, sipping your drink “you do acknowledge that it’s weird that you know that right? It’s important to me that you know that”

Jace chuckled at that shaking his head softly at you “and it’s weird that you’ve never noticed that Anakin, if he is available, is always your guard”

“Alright so the jedi order decided to assign their young padawan to guard the young senator” you thought as you talked, more or less making up your own rationalizations on the spot “pair the two people who are up and coming in their respective careers”

Jace didn’t even bother to refute that, sending you no more than an unimpressed expression with a raised brow. You realized with a sigh you already knew exactly where he was going with this as he opened his mouth to speak.

“no” you held up your finger, interrupting him “don’t even try”

“Y/N it’s obvious” he sighed nearly making you choke on your drink.

“Obvious? Really Jace, obvious?” you nearly laughed “I can’t even get the guy to talk to me for longer than like two minutes”

Jace just shrugged at that, as if it made no difference “He’s a jedi, they’re weird maybe he’s nervous or something”

At that you did laugh, not liking how bitter it sounded out in the open “you’ve seen how he talks to every other woman in the capitol he’s definitely not nervous”

At that Jace froze, a single eyebrow raising as he nearly gaped at you “I haven’t, but I’m very interested to learn that you’ve noticed this”

You groaned inwardly, feeling your cheeks heat up on the spot “that is not the point I’m trying to make”

“It’s the point now” Jace cut you off with a wicked grin “Y/N Y/L/N is there something you want to get off your chest”

“I will have him come in here and throw you out” you threatened, unable to keep the small smile off your face as you did so.

“Hey if you wanted time alone with him all you had to do was say so” Jace held his hands up defensively, smirking down at you.

You nearly threw your drink at him.

-

You would think after all of these trips to Coruscant you would learn to pack properly. That, however, would make things just too easy.

You were prepared for meeting rooms, for the senate floor, for your bedroom. You had professional clothing, comfy clothing, pajamas, you were prepared for anything within the capital building that could take place.

What you were not prepared for was a walk to Dex’s diner.

You were supposed to meet a senator at the diner, the man absolutely insisting on dinner while you were meeting, and you could never really say no to eating at Dex’s.

But you could see Anakin’s look of confusion at your outfit choice as you immerged from your room, the man giving you a simple raised brow but still you refused to give into the embarrassment of admitting to your mistake.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” there was no malice in his question but still you felt your cheeks burning at its asking, looking back down over yourself, pretending to not notice that the clothing was much too light for the cold weather outside.

“Yeah why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“Uh no you look” and Anakin paused here, his eyes scanning your form briefly in a way that had you squirming slightly on the spot, his eyes finally making their way back up to your own, Anakin’s voice much softer than before “you look good Y/N”

And if you had thought you had blushed hard before.... Your gaze was quickly thrown to your shoes, a desperate attempt to hide the blush as you mumbled out a thanks before clearing your throat awkwardly, nodding slightly to the door, Anakin nodding back and stepping aside, letting you exit first.

Keeping your head held high you whisked past him, only regretting your situation as soon as the crisp air hit your mostly bare arms.

Warm clothing, how could you forget any and all forms of warm clothing.

You tried to hide your slight shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself to conserve body heat, rubbing a hand up and down your bicep.

“Where’s your coat?” the voice beside you startled you, all too used to walking in complete silence with Anakin, to nearly tuning the man out completely.

“I forgot to pack it” you shrugged, almost wishing you had something more to say, something to keep the conversation going.

Instead the familiar silence fell back over the two of you as you walked, your mind already starting to tune the jedi out once again when you felt something being draped over your shoulders.

In surprise you froze, Anakin following suit as he came to a stop in front of you, hands still on the ends of his robe that now hung around your shoulders, holding it carefully around you. Slipping your arms into the sleeves you held them up to your eyes taking a moment to admire the simple brown robe, how surprisingly soft it was, the way it smelled like Anakin.

“Am I even allowed to wear this?”

“It’s just a robe” Anakin shrugged, already trying to push past the gesture “besides breaking a rule like that is worth you not freezing”

“but it’s a special jedi robe” you protested “am I going to get special jedi powers now?”

And god help you you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up at that, a laugh that came out as more of a cough following shortly that had your heart skipping a beat in your chest “that’s not how that works. Now come on” he tried to usher you forward but you stopped him.

“Hold on what about you” you asked “aren’t you cold”

And you weren’t sure if Anakin noticed the small smile that grew on his lips, didn’t notice or didn’t care, either way you were glad to finally see it “no I’m okay, let’s just-“ and he paused out of nowhere, smile slowly dropping from his lips as he looked up into the sky.

Furrowing your brows you started to do the same, pausing only as Anakin started to approach you, hands coming just beside your ears as he reached behind you, your breath catching in your throat at his closeness. Slowly, grabbing the hood on the cloak he pulled it forward, shrouding your head in it just as you started to notice the fat water droplets that began to stain the ground beneath your feet.

“keep your hair dry” he all but whispered, taking just a second longer before retracting his hands and taking a step back, turning on his heel and ushering you forward with a nod in that direction “come on let’s hurry”

And then he took off as if nothing had happened, as if that wasn’t the most emotion you had gotten out of him since you had met, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several seconds standing closer to you than was strictly necessary, as if your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest so hard you could feel it.

-

Too much of your mental space the rest of the day was spent trying to come up with ways to get Anakin to interact with you again. Like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch you felt this desire to talk to him again, to see that hint of a smile grace his lips, to see that small twinkle in his eye as he huffed and shook his head in amusement down at you. Something, anything that could clue you into what was going on inside of that jedi brain of his.

Beyond proposing a trip to the library, however, you had nothing.

A small nod was all you got for your efforts before he fell into place behind you, always a few feet back, hands held behind his back, head held high, not a single word uttered in your direction, a true return to form even after what had occurred earlier.

And a part of you scolded yourself for thinking it would ever be different, that you had let Jace’s words weasel their way under your skin like that, that you ever thought you’d be anything other than a job to him.

So wordlessly you led on, entering the library with him in tow, doing as you always did and completely ignoring your shadow’s existence for the time being, trying to turn your mind to the task at hand.

But why had that never been as hard before as it was now?

Taking a brief trip around the shelves, Anakin in tow close behind, it was a bit before you could find the exact copy you needed, of course on the top shelf well outside of your reach.

You took a tentative look back at Anakin to see his eyes wondering aimlessly around the library not even paying attention. And for a brief moment you debated asking him for help, he’d given his cloak so freely the other day, had yet to even ask for it back, you’d taken to the habit of wearing it around your rooms when cold. It had been a crack in the walls he erected between the two of you so long ago.

But it was just that, a crack. You’ve spent years at this point with whatever small amount of time spent in Anakin’s company more or less ignoring him, used to his curt nods and short answers, it wasn’t quite so simple to get over that.

With a small sigh you walked over to a nearby table and grabbed a chair, pushing it back in front of the shelf, giving it a small test with your hands before stepping one foot up.

Anakin was by your side in an instant, hands out before him, coming up to grab you but remaining just a bit too far away “What are you doing?”

“I need a book on the top shelf” you shrugged, pushing your weight onto the foot on the seat of the chair, Anakin shifting closer as you did so.

“Alright then I’ll get it” he urged, “this thing spins would you just get down”

“I’m already up here I’ll get it” you brushed him off, one hand on the back of the chair to steady yourself as you brought your other foot up, trying to react quickly with every small movement in the base of the chair as it swiveled slightly.

“Senator-“ Anakin tried again, practically begging you to get down.

“I’m like two feet in the air I’ll be fine” your hand left the back of the chair and immediately the thing pivoted slightly beneath you, your legs reacting by crouching slightly so you could keep your balance.

“Y/N” and you felt him grab you by the forearm, a shock surging through your arm at his sudden touch, effectively freezing you in place, your eyes coming back to connect with his for the first time, noting the concern they carried. His other hand reached out, a book flying off the top shelf and coming right into his palm, Anakin not even breaking eye contact as he did it “Look I’ve got it would you please get down”

And for a second it was like you had forgotten how to breathe, you can’t even remember the last time he had looked into your eyes so intently let alone touch you, the simple act had left you absolutely breathless with gorgeous blue eyes bouncing back and forth between your own and for the first time you felt what it was like to truly be the sole object of Anakin’s attention. You could feel yourself practically shrink within it, your knees aching slightly though you were quick to blame that on your attempt to balance on the chair.

“Uh-yeah” you hadn’t realized how long you had remained still and silent beneath his gaze until you broke its spell, forcing your gaze from his down to your shoes, using his hand as an anchor as you carefully stepped down, not missing the sharp hiss of air that left Anakin the minute you had both feet on the ground.

“here” he sighed almost in relief, holding the book out to you, you carefully taking it from his hands as he moved quickly to push the chair back to the table you had stolen it from.

Looking down at the cover you couldn’t help but chuckle slightly, casting your eyes back up to Anakin only to see him already looking at you, a faint smile pulling up at his lips “what?”

“I actually need the one next to this one” you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your own smile as he sighed dramatically, looking back up at the self before easily picking the one you needed off of the top.

“Thank you” you traded books with him, just barely catching the slightly wider smile on his lips as he placed the first back on the shelf. And you decided that you liked that smile, liked being its cause.

Wordlessly he ushered you towards the exit with an extended arm, you nodding sheepishly at him before walking out the doors, Anakin’s footsteps as usual following close behind but this time, to your surprise, he sped up once you got to the hallway, falling into step beside you as opposed to behind.

“So what do you need the book for?” The question startled you, your head whipping around to him on instinct though you tried desperately to restrain your surprise, worried expressing too much of it would scare him off.

“Oh-he’s just one of my favorite writers” you tried to keep your tone as casual as possible, only making you worry it sounded forced, you didn’t like how easily you came to second guessing your every move in the jedi’s presence “I’m hoping I could use some of his style to influence my speech, make it sound a little better”

His brow furrowed at that, his gaze never leaving yours as he spoke “why? I like your style”

You nearly stopped walking, quick blinks coming as you tried to wrap your head around his words, the question slipping out of you before you could think better “you’ve seen me speak before?”

“When I’m free” he shrugged as if it were a given, as if there was nothing better for a jedi to do than listen to a junior senator give a speech.

And for the first time you started to wonder if Jace was right, if there was a reason Anakin always ended up as your guard, if there was more to this tough, distant demeanor than you had previously thought.

“Do you want a drink?” You regretted the offer as soon as it left your lips, easily catching the hesitation on Anakin’s face the minute you asked “I just mean I’m going to be up for a little longer and since you’re stuck keeping me company it’s the least I could do” and he seemed to relax slightly at that only making you tack on more “plus as a thank you for grabbing the book for me”

And there was that small smile again, his features lighting up ever so slightly as it graced his lips, your own mirroring it of their own volition.

“Yeah I’d like that”

-

“You did not!” You exclaimed with a loud laugh, hand coming out instinctively to slap his chest as he grinned back at you, smile hid behind his glass as he raised it up.

“I had no other choice” he defended weakly in a voice that told you he had many.

“That make for three ships you’ve crashed in this story alone” you shook your head with a chuckle “you know someone has to pay for those, namely the people of the republic”

“A small price to pay for peace” he shrugged with a lazy grin, taking a sip of his drink.

“Have you tried this thing, I think they call it landing?” You teased earning a chuckle from the jedi, the sound making your cheeks ache as you tried to contain your grin.

“I’m sorry senator how many ships have you ever flown and landed successfully?” he taunted with a raised brow.

And you could blame it on the alcohol, could blame it on the sleep deprivation, could blame it on the cozy atmosphere in the room. But really it was just Anakin that had you pulling out childhood stories, the way he put you at ease, the strange familiar air of a man who’s spent the last several years practically ignoring you. In all honesty this was the most you had ever gotten from the man in terms of real conversation and you weren’t ready to let that go just yet.

“My father actually taught me to fly as a kid” you offered with a soft smile, watching Anakin’s brows shoot up ever so slightly.

“Really?” he prompted simply, leaving the door open for you to continue if you so choose.

“Yeah” you chuckled softly, casting your eyes down to your drink “he loved the freedom it gave him, the idea that he could go anywhere he wanted at the drop of a hat, could live amongst the stars. I think he wanted to instill that same feeling in me”

“and did he?” he asked with a sentimental smile and briefly you felt like he wasn’t just looking at you but rather watching you as you told your story, something you took a strange comfort in.

“He did” you nodded “he died a few years ago and I associate flying with him so much I feel like I’m working to fall in love with it all over again, just this time alone”

And at your words you watched his smile slowly melt off his face, his eyes casting downward into his own drink, and you prepared yourself for the inevitable. The sympathy, the condolences, the pity, instead Anakin surprised you with a story of his own.

“As a kid I was a pod racer, thought I was significantly better than I actually was ya know” he chuckled softly, eyes glancing up at yours for a brief moment before casting back down “but I knew my mother never really approved, thought it was too dangerous, but she always was my biggest supporter despite everything. I had to leave her years ago for the order and sometimes I wonder if I’m reckless now in some ridiculous bid to be closer to her”

“that’s not ridiculous” you shook your head, Anakin’s eyes coming back up to meet yours “it was a comfort to have your mother care for you in that way, only makes sense that when you miss her you seek that sense of comfort all over again”

And he chuckled softly at that, smiling to himself “I suppose you’re right”

And this time you could definitely blame it on the alcohol, or maybe the slight pink hue you thought you could see in his cheeks, but suddenly you felt yourself forcing your next words to the surface, a desperate need taking over you to have them out in the open. “I know we never really do this but I really like talking to you Anakin”

And for some reason the name felt weird on your mouth this time, felt weird being addressed to him rather than said behind his back, yet still you rather liked it.

A small smile grew on his lips as he looked back at you, eyes bouncing back and forth between your own before he spoke “I like talking to you too Y/N”

And you certainly liked the way your name sounded when he said it like that to you, soft and sweet, less a call to attention and more an affirmation.

His eyes darted to the clock and he sighed softly, leaning forward to set his glass on the edge of your desk “Come on its way past your bedtime”

You chuckled softly at that, shaking your head even as you knew he was right “I’m a senator I don’t have a bedtime”

He laughed back at that, taking your glass from you and setting it onto your desk next to his “and senators need 8 hours of sleep just like the rest of us”

“You expect me to believe you get a full 8 hours of sleep a night” you asked with a raised brow, watching in amusement as he shook his head softly from above you.

“Alright like the rest of us except for jedi knights”

Despite that ridiculous answer you relented, hands coming to the armrests of your chair ready to push yourself up when a hand suddenly entered your field of vision, Anakin’s hand offered simply to you. With a slightly furrowed brow you looked up at him as you took it, standing up with his small aide, coming to a position that had the two of you standing nearly chest to chest and instinctively you felt a small panic rise.

Instead his other hand came to the small of your back as he ushered you forward softly, hand slipping easily from your own as you walked forward out of your office, focused entirely too much on the feeling of his touch as it slowly slipped from your back, on the way he fell into step behind you as usual though this time mere inches away instead of feet.

Too quickly you reached the door to your room, spinning around to face him “this is me” you regretted the statement as soon as it left your mouth, wincing slightly at the sound of your own words which just had him laughing softly.

“Need me to clear it?” he asked in a low tone, his voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer “see if there’s a monster hiding under your bed”

“I think I’ll be okay” you chuckled softly back, scolding yourself for the way your gaze slipped down to his lips, the way your fingers twitched, eager to reach out.

The moment of silence stretched and still you felt yourself drifting closer, felt the friendly atmosphere give way to one of thick tension as the two of you stared back at one another, daring the other to give in and make the first move.

Instead Anakin stepped back, the smile slowly slipping from his lips though never entirely leaving “goodnight Y/N”

And with a sigh you couldn’t entirely contain you nodded softly, leaning against your doorway as you watched him walk back down the hall to his own room, “goodnight Anakin”

-

You dragged yourself from sleep with shallow quick breaths, bolting upright in place, eyes desperately scanning the room for anything that looked familiar.

But of course this was Coruscant and nothing really was.

This wasn’t the first time your sleep has plagued by nightmares, nor the first time you’ve woken up unsure of where you were, of what was going on, of where the threat was coming from.

And logically you knew where you were, in your room, safe, with a jedi guard just next door. So you tried to force yourself to take deep breaths, a hand on your chest as if you could physically push the air into you. And for the most part you had succeeded, your breath slowly but surely returning to normal.

But it didn’t rid you of the initial panic, of the overwhelming sense of dread, of the crushing loneliness of going through this in a room that wasn’t your own.

And for the first time your mind jumped to Anakin, afterall he was just next door.

This past day had been the closest you had ever felt to the jedi, approaching something that resembled friendship as he made an effort for the first time to actually talk to you. And based on that you really didn’t think he would mind, even if it was just him sitting in silence next to you, it was nice just having something there.

But still waking him would be welcoming him to a part of you you weren’t sure you were ready to show him yet. It was a level of vulnerability you weren’t ready to show him yet. Not to mention the man was a jedi, faced death on a near daily basis, was always putting himself in dangers way, what right did you have to go to him with nightmares?

Making up your mind you slipped silently out of your room and made your way to the front door, heading as you usually did to Jace’s apartment.

-

You tried to slip out of the room quietly, more than enough experience at this under your belt to know that you could probably force your way through the front door with a sledge hammer and Jace wouldn’t wake up but still wanting to take precautions nonetheless.

Up on your toes you snuck through the door, pressing the button on the other side to close it, waiting till it fully shut to relax, spinning around to begin the trek back to your rooms, when movement out of the corner of your eye caught you off guard. With a small gasp you stepped back from the mysterious object, nearly stumbling over your own feet, when you realized you recognized the mystery man lurking outside of the door.

“Anakin” you breathed out in relief, hand instinctually coming to your chest in an attempt to slow your racing heart “you scared me”

At first he didn’t say anything, stayed leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, his posture telling you that he couldn’t have been more at ease, but his expression... His jaw was set, clenched hard enough you could see the muscle tensing even from your position, his gaze hard and unflinching as it bore down into you, Anakin was pissed.

“Imagine how I felt when I woke to find your room empty” His tone was cold and biting, as if he were spitting the words at you rather than conversing.

“Alright maybe I should’ve left a note” you conceded “but I figured I’d be back in an hour or two tops, and it’s Jace’s place you’ve met him”

“A note” he scoffed back at you, pushing himself off the wall to come close to you, forcing you to crane your neck in order to make eye contact, refusing to give in and take a step back “What part of this do you not get?”

“What part of what?” you demanded, crossing your own arms over your chest “you found me quite easily what is the harm?”

“What is the-“ he chuckled bitterly as he echoed you under his breath, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he burst “you suck out on me!”

“for like an hour” you protested, rising your voice to match his, not caring at this point who heard you

“That doesn’t matter” he paused briefly between each word, putting emphasis on each as he glared at you “I was tasked with guarding you that means I go where you go, everywhere you go, that means you don’t sneak out on me especially not to just spend the night with some guy” he gestured almost in disgust back at Jace’s door “this isn’t some joke Y/N”

“And I’m not treating it like one” you countered, clenching your jaw as you fought back the urge to push him back “you’ve come with me to everything for the entire time you’ve been my guard, I haven’t left your side, I’m playing by your rules”

“this” he gestured vaguely in your direction, a bitter laugh in the back of his throat “this is not playing by my rules, this is disobeying my orders, and a fucking note is not the correct fix to this situation”

“So I should’ve what? Asked you to escort me to Jace’s room at three in the morning?”

You watched him clench his jaw at that, a harsh glare sent back at you as he silently loomed over you, neither of you saying anything for a few seconds, before a deep breath escaped him, his chest deflating slightly as he grabbed your elbow, pulling you down the hallway “let’s just go back Y/N”

But you weren’t giving up on this so easily, weren’t letting him get away with chastising you in the middle of the hallway like you were a child. You ripped your elbow from his grasp, slowing your pace “I can walk myself”

“Really you sure you won’t get lost?” he condescended with a raised brow, crossing his arms in front of his chest “won’t accidentally end up in some other guys room for ‘just an hour’, I think senator Passel’s in this hall I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about him”

You reacted without thinking, your hand coming up and slapping him across the cheek before you could fully process your action, though even after you couldn’t find yourself to regret it. And you knew that on some level Anakin had to have let it happen, it was nearly impossible to catch the Jedi by surprise. But the wide eyes he gave back to you could have had you fooled. You watched as his own hand came up to his cheek, touching the skin lightly, him mouth dropping open ever so slightly, his anger completely dissipating on the spot.

Yours, however, had yet to do so “You’re mad I disobeyed your ‘orders’ fine I can take that, but you do not get to treat me like this and you do not get to throw that kind of insinuation at me” you seethed back at him, hands clenched by your side so hard you could feel your nails digging into the palms.

“Y/N” and you name came out of his mouth on an exhale, a hand coming up to your elbow with a touch much softer than before, a plea in his eyes as he said it.

But you weren’t sure you could take any more of being in Anakin’s presence tonight. As you took a step back his hand fell easily from your arm and you tried to ignore the tingle on your skin it left in its place, tried to ignore the lump you could feel growing at the base of your throat, tried to ignore his silent plea for you to come back.

“Goodnight Jedi Skywalker” and before you could crumble you turned and walked back towards your rooms, hearing Anakin’s reluctant footsteps fall into place a few feet behind you.

-

You felt strangely energized the next morning at breakfast, shoveling food into your mouth as you jotted down notes and took pleasure in the fact that Anakin had yet to wake. Perhaps Jedi did need a full 8 hours of sleep. Senators, it would turn out, can survive on a fraction of that in combination with pure spite.

Your eyes barely glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps that halted a few feet in front of your desk, taking no more than a second to note Anakin’s form as he stood before you.

“Y/N” your name came out of his mouth almost hesitantly, still you refused to look up at him just yet, pretending most of your attention was still captured by the document before you.

“Jedi Skywalker”

You heard a small sigh escape him, a hollow chuckle filling the air “back to titles huh”

“what can I do for you jedi?” you asked, interlacing your fingers and setting them before you, pushing your posture straighter as you looked up at him in front of your desk, not letting a single emotion betray you with your expression.

Another sigh and he held up a piece of paper before you “we’ve received our first official death threat against you” and though you knew it had to be coming a part of you expected to be more shook by the news, expected to be more scared, all you felt at this point, however, was tired. Tired of being on Coruscant, tired of your job, tired of dealing with every consequence that came from these threats.

“Ok” You could see Anakin’s expression melt a little at your simple reply, could see the pity and guilt plain on his face, you wanted neither “anything else?”

Anakin nodded slowly, placing the piece of paper on your desk, taking care to step back from you after he had done so “because of it we’re more or less going into lockdown, the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list provided by your security team”

You scoffed slightly as your eyes scanned the list, noticing immediately that one name was missing “Jace isn’t on here”

Anakin’s tone dropped slightly, his hand going into a fist at his side as he repeated “the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list”

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping as you threw the paper down onto your desk “you want me confined to my room fine, restrict who I have access to fine, one of those people will, however, be Jace, not only because he is my friend and I trust him but because he is instrumental to getting the work I need done”

And you could see him clench his jaw from across your desk, an angry hand running through his hair before he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes breaking from yours down to the paper before he sighed “fine”

And that put you off guard, if there was one thing you had learned about Anakin throughout your limited interaction it was that the man didn’t back down easily. Giving him a small nod you all but whispered a thank you, casting your eyes back down to your document, a silent dismissal.

The paper was wordlessly picked up from your desk before he started to leave, a new voice filling the silence left in his wake.

“Y/N I just heard-“ Jace’s voice was cut off suddenly, your eyes coming up from the document to see him in the doorway, held in place with a simple hand on his chest by Anakin, the jedi’s other hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber as he glared down the man.

“he’s fine” you called out simply, eyes casting back down to the document without a second thought.

But you didn’t hear any change, Jace hadn’t started talking again, there had been no footsteps as he entered the room. Looking back up you saw the two men in the exact same position, glaring daggers into one another, each daring the other to make the first move.

“Jedi Skywalker he’s okay to come in” you instructed Anakin again, watching as the grip on his saber only tightened if anything.

“Anakin”

His gaze snapped to yours at the sound of his name, his expression softening ever so slightly as it did, his grip dropping from the saber.

“he’s okay”

And reluctantly he nodded, hand dropping from Jace’s chest as he righted himself, before his gaze snaped back to Jace, his next words coming out almost as a threat as he spoke them more to your friend than you “I’ll be just outside the door”

-

You’d be lying if you said you had forgotten about the other night, in fact you had done just about everything you could to do so, but despite your best efforts his insinuation still rang loudly in your head, his angry gaze as he spit the words at you still living in your minds eye, the fury that sparked in your chest then had yet to dwindle with time.

You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t really matter, so what if you were seeing Jace like that you were both single there would be no harm done. But another part of you hated the idea of Anakin thinking that, the same stupid, selfish, naive part of you that clung onto his every word and laugh that night.

But you had a job to do, a job that had pulled you halfway across a galaxy away from home to try and convince a small group of relevant senators that your position was correct and morally righteous which would be no small feat. That was exactly why you couldn’t have your attention pulled away from the matter at hand by some guy, least of all some guy as emotionally stunted as Anakin Skywalker.

“Y/N” you ignored the small plea from that very man, pointedly keeping your gaze on your notes as you paced back and forth from behind the stage.

Anakin sighed softly, an anxious hand running through his hair before he tried again “Y/N please I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“No” you cut him off simply, refusing to give him your attention, your anger, your anything. You had a job to do and he was being an active hinderance to that and you were not going to treat him as anything but that “I don’t want to hear it right now”

He nodded softly at that, gaze casting down to his shoes “yeah we can talk after your speech”

You scoffed at that, shaking your head before countering under your breath “or you can go back to ignoring me, I much preferred that”

Anakin furrowed his brow at that, taking a step closer to you “what do you-“

“Senator” one of your aides interrupted you with a smile, nodding her head towards the shut curtain before you “they’re ready for you”

“Thank you” you smiled back at her, squaring your shoulders and facing the curtain separating you from the stage, pointedly ignoring Anakin’s intense stare down at you.

Another soft sigh before he whispered “I’ll be off to the right side in case anything happens” and he was reaching for the curtain before you could respond, most likely knowing that you wouldn’t, holding it open for you to duck under slightly and be met by the bright lights and polite applause you were used to.

You smiled widely at the crowd as you walked up to the podium, setting your stack of notes on top of it and waving, giving them a practiced small nod and a polite “thank you senators”

Slowly the applause dwindled and you were faced with a silent room, milking the sound for just a moment before beginning “I want to thank you all for making time in your busy schedules-“ and you launched into the usual political fluff that began most speeches, stroking the senators egos before you got into the real meat of the issue.

You didn’t make it far, however, before you felt a sudden tug at your elbow, the force strong enough that you were pulled back from the microphone a few steps, a confused murmur making its way through the crowd before you.

Spinning around you followed the hand upon your elbow up to the jedi who owned it, only to see that he wasn’t staring down at you but rather up at the point where the walls met the ceiling, his eyes searching for something that was surely drowned out by the stage lights.

“What’s going on?” you asked him pulling your arm back into you, Anakin’s fingers not putting up a fight against it as he kept his gaze up, searching.

“we need to go” the words were spoken softly and with little weight only confusing you further.

“Anakin what-“ he cut you off before you could even get the question out, crashing his body into yours as he tackled you to the floor, arms wrapping around you to break your fall as he ducked the two of behind your podium. And you were ready to ask him again what was happening when you noticed it, a new burn mark on the wall just behind where your head had been moments ago.

It was only then that you realized the world had fallen silent on your ears, your mind tuning out the panicked yells and scraping of chairs as the people you had just been addressing scrambled for the exit.

Then there was a blaster sound.

The podium before you shook as it took the brunt of the shot, the furniture groaning telling you it wasn’t going to be able to take much more.

With wide eyes your gaze finally connected with Anakin’s to find his already on you, your name on his lips though you don’t remember hearing it.

“What?” You asked much too softly for the sound level in the room, a small look of relief still edging into Anakin’s eyes as he looked at you.

“There’s a door behind you to your left, I’ll cover you you make a break for it on the count of three” he instructed loudly but still calmly, the small panic in his eyes doing a fantastic job of never making its way to his voice. You nodded quickly at him, eyes darting over your shoulder to take a quick look at the door. His hand came up and squeezed your shoulder softly, pulling your gaze back to his “stay low okay. 1..2..3 go”

There wasn’t a moments hesitation before you broke for the door, no drop of doubt in Anakin’s promise to cover you before you left the safe haven of the podium, throwing yourself at the door to force it open and pushing it back closed behind Anakin the second he was through.

He never let up, however, not wasting any time before he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you off the door and down the hallway, you never fully being able to escape the panicked screams from that room.

“The others in there” you protested weakly, letting Anakin pull you further and further away from the room.

“Not important right now” he answered harshly, taking seemingly random turns down a labyrinth of hallways.

And your mind was spinning too much to protest any further, still struggling to bridge the gaps of the last few minutes and comprehend what had happened “did you see them?”

“No” Anakin grumbled “but I think the shot came from the vent system”

“So they could be anywhere by now”

Anakin didn’t respond to that, dragging you a few more feet forward before coming to an abrupt halt before a door you didn’t recognize, eyes checking both ways down the hall before throwing it open and ushering you inside, shutting the door behind the two of you.

It was jarring how silent it was within the room, the way the entire world seemed to suddenly stop spinning, finally giving you the chance to catch your breath, your mind reeling in such a way that made you wonder if you even really wanted the silence.

“Okay” Anakin spoke up, hand coming back to your shoulder, thumb hooked softly under your chin to physically pull your gaze to his as he hunched over slightly “you stay in here I’ll go-“

“What-“ the question came out before he could even finish his statement, your head shaking rapidly as you took a step back from him “you’re leaving me in here?”

“Just for a bit I need to track down-“

“No I can’t-” you interrupted him again, the same panic as before surging within you as you shook your head again, an anxious hand bunching up in your hair as you started to shift your weight from foot to foot “you can’t just- you can’t leave me here alone”

“Hey hey” and you could see his attempt to calm you down as he reached out, could see the fight behind his eyes between staying with you and finding the guy who shot at you, his hands resting on both of your shoulders halting your nervous movement “you’ll be safe in here but I need to track down-“

“Please” you interrupted him again, your single world making his argument die on his lips, his expression freezing slightly at the sound of it “Please Ani don’t leave me”

And you watched his chest deflate, a small nod before he answered “okay”

Before you could think better of it you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest. Again there was a moment of hesitation, a brief hiccup before his arms wrapped around you in response, and you heard him mumble against your hair “I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay”

And at that words you let a shaky breath out, feeling the weight on your chest decrease slightly at the promise, nodding softly against him before slowly letting go, untangling your arms from him “Thank you”

His eyes bounced back and forth between your own for a second before he nodded softly, taring his gaze from you as he stood up straighter, taking a good look around the room “We’ll just wait here for a bit, the rest of the order is going to be working on tracking the shooter down”

You nodded back at him again, taking a few steps aside to rest against the wall, finally fully feeling yourself relax as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you.

“I really am sorry for what I said the other night” the sudden voice breaking the silence caught you by surprise, your brows furrowing as you looked up at him “I was angry and I took it out unfairly on you and for that I’m sorry”

“Is now really the time to be doing this?” you asked with an edge of frustration to your voice, trying to hide it behind a soft laugh.

“You’ve been refusing to talk to me, now’s the first time I’ve really had your attention” he shrugged as if it were the obvious conclusion.

“yeah well try dealing with that for about three years then you’re allowed to complain about feeling ignored to me” you grumbled crossing your arms over your chest, unsure if you had really wanted him to hear those words or not.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, genuine curiosity on his voice as he asked “what does that mean?”

And a part of you wanted to scoff, as if he hadn’t noticed how he’d treated you for the entirety of knowing him “This trip is the most I’ve ever talked to you” you huffed, pointedly avoiding eye contact with him “When I first met you you were nice and talkative and normal, and all of a sudden the next time I’m around you’re nothing but cold and distant, could get barely more than two words out of you at a time. Made me wonder what I had done wrong”

You heard his deep sigh at your words, eyes glancing up at his form to see his gaze planted on his shoes, a soft reply coming in a voice you almost couldn’t hear “you didn’t do anything wrong”

Another silence passed between the two of you before you broke it, unsure exactly why you felt the need to justify yourself to him “I get nightmares sometimes, nothing too bad but sometimes it’s like I forget where I am and I can’t breathe and I just need someone there to anchor me, to remind me that I’m okay. Jace has been that person for me a lot so when I woke up I sought him out, I really didn’t think about how I was sneaking out behind your back”

Another sigh came from across the room before you heard a back sliding against the wall, eyes casting up to see Anakin had moved to sitting on the ground, back resting against the wall, eyes planted somewhere across the room before he laughed almost hollowly “I’m an idiot aren’t I”

And you couldn’t help but chuckle at that, moving to sit down next to him, careful to keep a good amount of distance between the two of you as you did so “I mean I certainly won’t argue with you on that point”

And this time his chuckle was realer, a warm sound you felt yourself despite everything drawn into “you know you could’ve come to me”

“If the roles were reversed” you asked him with a soft, sad smile “would you have come to me?”

And he sighed at that, gaze breaking to study your face for a moment, before he shook his head “no I suppose I wouldn’t have”

Another silence fell between the two of you, this one considerably less uncomfortable than the ones before, and for a brief moment you wondered where exactly this left you and Anakin, certainly closer than before but friends? Is that what you wanted? Is just that what you could be okay with?

“The jedi have a code” Anakin’s voice pulled your attention smoothly back to him, finding him a few inches closer than before, you weren’t sure who it was that had shifted “we can’t form attachments”

And you found yourself focusing on how hard the words seemed to be for him to say, how he was practically pulling them out of himself, you eagerly latching onto each one, nodding softly.

“So when I met you and you were incredibly nice and funny and easy to talk to…” he let the end of his sentence hang in the air, let the implication remain unsaid “Obi-wan noticed it before I did, was over my shoulder reminding me of the code right away and I figured if I remained distant then I wouldn’t be tempted to break it”

You felt the air leave your chest realizing that hearing it form Jace was one thing but from Anakin himself was completely different, the last few years spent around him clicking into place in your mind and you felt the need to reach out to him, if not to just hold his hand in yours. “Then why are you my guard every time I need one on Coruscant” you asked instead, forcing the distance back, giving Anakin what he wanted, what he said he wanted “Wouldn’t it have been better to avoid me entirely?”

A bitter laugh came forth at that, Anakin throwing his head back against the wall as he stared up at the ceiling “yeah, yeah it would have.” He paused briefly, a small smile pulling up at the edges of his lips “do you know how excited I get every time I hear you’re going to be on Coruscant? I tell myself every time that I just want to make sure you’re safe, that I want to be able to see for myself that no harm comes to you, but I know they’re all just excuses. Because even if it’s in complete silence I relish every moment spent in your presence”

And a huge part of you felt relief at his words. Relief that your feelings were reciprocated, relief that he didn’t actually hate you as you suspected, relief that it was all finally out in the open. But still there was a new weight on your chest, the burden of the jedi code no longer resting on Anakin’s shoulder’s alone, a burden that as not a jedi it felt unfair for you to carry.

“Where does that leave us now?” you asked quietly, eyes bouncing back and forth between his hopefully.

“The jedi order have their faults” he started after a bit, gaze skipping around the room, everywhere but meeting yours “there’s a few things I just don’t agree with them on and one of them is that having attachments makes me a worse jedi, I’m starting to wonder if remaining at a distance from you is really worth it, after this past week I’m not sure I can do it anymore”

“what if I don’t want you to remain at a distance?” you asked softly, watching almost with amusement as Anakin’s gaze rushed to meet your own, his eyes searching yours with hope for sincerity.

Finally his lips turned up at your words, he gaze flicking down to your lips for a moment, inching himself closer still till your shoulder grazed his “Darling if that’s the case then I shall live to make you regret asking me to stay close”

#anakin x reader #Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin imagine #anakin fic #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars x you #star wars x reader

[phoenixsbby]

This Isn’t What It Looks Like - Hangman x Bartender!reader

summary: Hangman is totally, 100% over his ex … he just needs a fake girlfriend to prove it.

WC: 5.2k

a/n: let’s take every cliche romance trope and turn it into a Hangman fic, shall we?

warnings: mentions of sex, swearing

“No, absolutely not.”

“What?! Why?” Hangman’s leaning over the bar, staring you down intently while you finish up the closing tasks of the Hard Deck. You ran the last call bell awhile ago, happy to see everyone closed out promptly. Everyone except Hangman, that is. No, Hangman continued to linger until you said goodnight to the last patron. Then he approached, marched right up to where you’d been cleaning with that charming grin spread across his lips. You knew you were in for it.

“Do you know how ridiculous this sounds?” Hangman just shrugs. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend to prove to your ex that you’ve moved on ... which by the way you so clearly have not.”

“I have. And ... yes?”

“You think we can act like we like each other enough to convince her we’re in love?”

“I don’t see it being a problem.” His eyes flicker across your face before dropping to your body, giving it a quick once over. Heat rushes to your cheeks, despite the fact that it’s not the first time Hangman has looked at you that way. 

“Why is she even going to be here? A Naval base isn’t an ideal tourist attraction.”

“It is if you’re an Admirals daughter.” He visibly winces as your jaw compulsively drops.

“Oh, Hangman.” You tsk at him, fighting back a smirk that threatens to break out.

“That’s beyond the point.” He swats at the air as if trying to magically push the conversation along. 

“Well, what’s in it for me?”

“My undying gratitude?”

You hum, tapping a sarcastic finger against your chin before replying, “Next.”

“Y/NNNN.” He whines your name, like a child pleading with their parents for just one more piece of candy. Anyone and everyone who knows him could tell you that Jake Seresin has an ego. They would say that he’s demanding and likes to remind people that more often than not, he gets what he wants. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Hangman beg for anything before ... you kind of like it. 

“Jaaaakkkeee.” You match his tone, pouting your bottom lip a bit for emphasis. 

“I’ll scrub the bar clean for two weeks, I’ll take Marlie to the dog park every weekend for the next month, I’ll kiss the god damn floor you walk on.” The offer is tempting, you can’t deny that. You act like you’re considering it while simultaneously wiping down a glass as he continues. "We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You and Hangman are friends, in every way that a bartender at a Navy bar and a Naval Lieutenant can be. On nights when he’s not deployed or doesn’t have too early of a morning the next day, he’ll come around. Sometimes he’s with friends, sometimes he comes alone. On a couple of rare nights when the place is quiet, Jake will keep you company by choosing a seat at the bar rather than a table tucked in the back. When you can, you’ll sit beside him, make small talk, play some cards, or people watch until you earn a glare from the old guy who always challenges people to a game of darts despite having the worst aim you’ve ever seen.

During those nights, the ones you let resurface in your mind more times that you’d like to admit, you’ll find your legs tangled in between his, your bodies leaning in, unconsciously craving the closeness. You liked the way it felt to have some part of you pressed against him, liked the way his heat mixed with yours. Usually the contact ended when you remembered you had a job to do but, you never willingly pulled away. You noticed he never did either.

“That’s a loose term for it, sure.” It’s a lie and you both know it.

“And friends do favors for other friends, right?” He raises his brows, his normal grin turning into a sly and suggestive one. 

This time while wiping down a new glass, you actually consider it. In the time that you’ve known Jake, he’s been there for you. Again, there are only so many ways that a bartender and a bar patron can be there for each other but, Jake has checked almost all the boxes.

And then there was that one night, the one you’re too eager to blame on alcohol despite only having two drinks a couple hours apart. Sometimes after you get home from work, still buzzing from the energy of the bar, you’ll stare up at your bedroom ceiling and allow the memory to play out like a movie inside your head.

“I think it’s about time for me to get you home.” Hangman bopped your nose with the tip of his pointer finger. The crowd at the bar didn’t look like it would be dwindling out any time soon, drinks were flowing, people were singing and dancing. You were reveling in the fact that you had the night off but, were choosing to ignore that you were spending said night off at your workplace. 

“What? Why? I’m not even-“

“Drunk, I know. But it’s late and I’d like to be sure that you make it home safely.” Jake said and you forced yourself to not to acknowledge the way his smile, soft and sweet, made your heart drum harder against your breastbone. 

“Ever the gentleman.” You poked his nose back and let him drive you home. It was the middle of the summer which meant the California day heat lingered well past dark and you’d insisted that every single window in Jakes jeep be rolled down. The normally humid breeze was cool against your hot, slightly sweaty skin and whipped through your hair as you watched the coast pass by in a blur. 

A hand was placed gently on your thigh, not too high but, certainly not low. A warm feeling, like static electricity, radiated from where his palm rested, spreading its way higher and higher until it pooled in between your legs. Without looking over at him, you settled your hand on the top of his and intertwined your fingers together.

When he pulled into the driveway of the small cottage you were renting, neither of you made any efforts to remove your hands from each others hold. The head rush you were getting from the sensation of his skin on yours was enough to have you question whether or not you were actually drunk. 

But there was no way. Alcohol had nothing to do with the tidal wave of want that came over you when your eyes finally met, still sitting in the car, with only the center console keeping your bodies apart. You’d like to believe that want wasn’t derived from the fact that a very attractive man was staring at you like any second he’d devour you (although, that was certainly a driving factor).

You wanted to believe the result was from the fact that you knew Jake Seresin. You knew all his favorite restaurants he ate at growing up in Texas and how his dad was an asshole who’s never truly seen how great of son he raised. He was Jake, the aviator who listened to you babble on about your training your new puppy and your many failures attempts to find new hobbies. He was the man who really saw you and came back night after night anyway.

You felt a rush of coldness cover your body when he lifted his hand from your leg and stepped into the balmy San Diego night. He rounded the car and stopped in front of your door before pulling it open and reaching for you to help you climb out. You took his hand and shamelessly clung to his arm and to his side until you reached your front door.

You lingered there, allowing your key to hover just above the lock before deciding to throw all caution to the wind. He was much closer than you anticipated, your chests nearly colliding when you turned to face him. Neither of you spoke, like you were afraid that one wrong word or sound would pop this bubble of earnest tension you’d created. 

He took a step forward and your knee-jerk reaction was to take one back so, he continued pressing you until your back met the wood of your front door with a thump. Your breathing began to turn unsteady when he reached a hand up, hovering, almost waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, he let himself push a few stray strands of hair behind your ear while inching his face closer and closer and closer until …

He stopped with only a few inches left separating your faces. He was so close, you were engulfed in his scent - spicy and sweet and completely Jake. His hand moved down to your face, tracing, pressing, caressing its way down your throat and to your collarbones. He looked possessed, a man completely captivated by you and your skin.

With an easy dip of your head, you let your lips dance over his sharp jaw line, desperate to relieve this aching pressure that was building inside of you. More pressure mounted when you saw, when you felt, the way his body reacted to your movements. He released a long, rattled, shaky breath and gripped the door frame beside you for dear life.

His knee nudged its way in between your legs and you fought the urge to moan at its solidness, so close to where you needed him the most. He pulled his face back, just enough to gaze down at you through hooded eyes. 

“Tell me to stop.” His voice came out rough and guttural, like he was physical forcing the words to come out.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You didn’t, not in the slightest. In fact, you were seconds away from getting down on the ground and begging him to touch you, to love you. You reached out and let your hands travel from his uniformed chest down to his stomach, feeling the dips and ridges of his hard muscles beneath your palms.

He scooped up your hands with his and held them, so tightly, before bringing them to his lips. He kissed them, branding your skin as if his lips were hot irons, muttered a ‘goodnight’ then walked away.

You hadn’t felt that way, that impassioned and desperate in a long time. Maybe you’ll do this for Hangman because he’s right, friends do favors for each other. Or maybe you’ll do it for more selfish reasons, ones you’ll never so much as openly admit to having.

“Marlie likes to be at the park early, like really early to get the best pick of the sticks. And you don’t have to clean the bar but, I wouldn’t mind some company after-“

You let out a grunt when Hangman reaches across the bar, grabs you by the arms, and hauls you into him. The wood of the bar top is drilling into your hips, poking so uncomfortably into your bones yet, you don’t move. You sink into him despite the pain.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He squeezes you then pulls back, ruffling a hand through your hair which you quickly bat away.

“Yes, I know, I’m the best. So ... where do we start?”

——

The Friday night rush at the Hard Deck was showing you no mercy, you barely had a minute to breathe, let alone time to think about your agreement with Hangman. In fact, the predicament hadn’t even crossed your mind until your eyes meet unmistakable, rich green ones with a contagious grin to match from across the bar. 

“M’love.” He greets you as you set down two cold beers in front of him. 

“Hangster.” You greet him back with a wink. You go to move on to the next customer when you hear him call you back.

“Just a heads up, she should be here soon.” 

“Ah, yes, she who shall not be named.” You smirk, trying to do your job while holding the conversation. You pop off a few lids and swipe some empties before looking back at him, noticing that he’s not smirking along with you.

“Y/N.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, Jake, I’m ready to wow her. You are going to look so over her by the time I’m through with you.”

“I’m walking away now.” He grumbles as he grabs the beers and turns to go meet up with his fellow pilots.

“See ya later, babe!” You call after him, chuckling to yourself before getting back in the zone. Some of your friends and family had scrutinized you at first when they heard you were bartending. They acted like it was a black hole for all career potential but, they’re wrong. Bartending is no easy gig, it requires a lot of skill and acute focus.

Most nights, you allowed yourself to only pay attention to what was going on behind the bar and those sitting across from it. You rarely noticed the ebb and the flow of the crowd, who came in and who came out. Tonight however, you’re distracted, catching yourself watching the door, staring at any pretty girl that comes in wondering if she’s the one. 

You’re in the middle of a lighthearted conversation with one of your favorite veterans, your back facing the door, when you hear Jake call for you. When you turn around, you’re met with Hangman’s bright smile and a beautiful blonde attached to his side. Your eyes flicker to where his arm is wrapped around her back, to where their hips connect, before forcing yourself to refocus on literally anywhere else that isn’t Jake’s body coming in contact with hers.

He introduces her to you, her name is as pretty and enchanting as her princess style hair. She must get it blown out once a week, that volume is too good to be natural. And her skin is nearly flawless, kind of glowing. There’s no way she uses drug store skin care. God damn, you need to get it together.

“This,” Hangman reaches across the bar, his fingers tucking a stray piece of hair that fell away from your pony tail back over your ear “is my gorgeous girlfriend, Y/N.”

“It’s great to meet you.” You force the words to come out steady and sweet, not because you want to spite her but, because you feel rattled after that touch, under the gentle look Jake is giving you.

“Likewise.” She replies with a smile. 

“I’m due for a break soon, I’ll meet you guys when I’m off?” You place a bottle of the beer Jake usually gets down in front of him and ask his ex what she’d like. After mixing her a vodka soda, she tells you she can’t wait to hear about how you and Hangman met and fell in love.

You send Hangman a uh-wait-we-never-discussed-that look as he leads her away from the bar, holding your eyes to his for as long as he can over his shoulder.

Over the next fifteen minutes, you can’t help but watch them interact in between serving. Are they standing too close? Have they made any attempts at touching each other? You notice Hangman’s smiling and laughing a lot and it’s not that you don’t like seeing him happy, you just want to get a better understanding of how truthful he was when he said he’s moved on. 

When your designated break time rolls around, you let Penny know and clock out with record speed before making a beeline for Hangman. When you reach him, you place a hand on his back to let him know you’re there causing him to spin around to face you.

“There she is.” His eyes twinkle with recognition before he tugs you against him, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Wow, he’s good at this. You wrap your arm around him in response, fisting the material of his shirt in your hand to keep him close. All for show, of course.

“So, Y/N,” His ex pulls your attention towards her “how long have you been a bartender here?”

“Almost a year.” You smile, a completely natural one associated with all of the memories of working at the Hard Deck. “I take classes during the day so, helping Penny out at night works out well for me.”

“She’s in a graduate program, working toward becoming an electrical engineer.” Jake adds, causing you to jerk your eyes to meet his. “Her dad was an engineer for the Navy. Guess you two have something else in common other than being completely enamored by me.” His ex lets out a loud laugh and playfully smacks Hangman’s arm, all while you just stare.

You’re shocked he remembers that. You told him about it once, when you first met. Since then, he’s asked about how classes were going but, you figured he wouldn’t remember the specifics. 

“She’s so smart.” He holds your eyes to his while resting a hand against the back of your neck and kneading it gently. Holy shit, you might spontaneously combust. 

‘That’s really cool, Y/N.” She says, snapping you out of your trance.

“Thanks.” Your voice comes out a bit coarse so, you clear your throat and turn to smile at her. “Not as cool as having an Admiral for a father. I bet that got Jake in just the right amount of trouble.” You pinch his side, smiling wider as he jumps and grabs your hand tightly. 

“Oh, yeah.” You watch as her eyes flicker to Hangman, a vaguely recognizable and totally unsubtle look, almost like desire, settles over her features. “We used to really get into it.”

…oh?

You let out a hesitant chuckle, hoping Hangman will take the reins on steering this conversation somewhere else but when you glance up at him, you see him looking back at her with a matching expression of longing. You feel it like a punch to the chest and squeeze his hand that’s still locked around yours.

His ex is the first to shake out what can only be described as their staring contest, looking to you with a tight smile. “Well, let’s hear it! How did you guys end up together?”

“Yeah guys,” Phoenix and Rooster come strolling over to your group, sharing matching pompous smirks “tell us all about it.” Phoenix rests her elbows on the table while Rooster takes a seat, both ready to watch the Y/N and Hangman show. The only thing they’re missing is a bowl of popcorn. 

“Spilled drink!”

“The beach!”

Oh, shit. Your voices layer right over each other and now you have three sets of eyebrows raised sky high in your direction. Phoenix releases a snort into her drink and Rooster’s grinning like he just won the freaking lottery. 

You and Hangman’s eyes dart to meet, a muscle in his jaw clicking, one of your eyes twitching before you open your mouth to try and recover the situation.

“Well, yeah, uh .. we met because this smooth pilot knocked a beer right out of my hand and onto my shirt.” You feel a smile, a real, honest smile come across your face because what you were saying was true. The first time you met, Jake had turned around right into you, knocking over three drinks and soaking you in cheap alcohol.

You can remember the look on his face vividly, the way he was opening his mouth to say something along the lines of ‘watch where you’re going’ but, stopped short as he took you in. When your eyes met, when you felt the scorch of his stare on your skin, getting the stains out of one of your favorite shirts was the last thing on your mind. 

“I asked her to meet me on the beach after her shift.” Hangman adds. “We walked together, I told her I’d pay for a new shirt but, she insisted it wasn’t necessary.” Still true. “She said she sees the stain as a kind of reminder. She’d look at it and always think of me ... and how insanely good looking I am.” You roll your eyes playfully, hearing a chorus of laughs and groans from around you.

“I really wanted to kiss her then.” His grin simmers down into a look of yearning, one that’s almost slightly pained.

“And you did, right? Kiss her?” His ex asks.

“Yeah.” Hangman clears his throat, pulling his eyes away from yours. “And she’s been mine ever since.”

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest?” Phoenix coos before sending you a wink and pulling a still grinning Bradley up and towards the bar. 

You’re blessed with an opportunity to divert the conversation (because any more and your heart may give out) when an older, but classic song you recognize instantly plays from the jukebox.

“Oh, this is my favorite song.” You say as the slow rhythm flows through the bar.

“Well you heard her, Hangman! Dance with her!” His ex smiles, pushing you two toward the area that others have designated as a makeshift dance floor. 

“Oh no, that’s okay.” You shake your head, laughing nervously.

“We should,” Hangman takes your hand and starts to tread backwards, pulling you along with him “before you have to get back to your shift.”

You let him pull your body flush against his before he props the hand he was holding on his chest and grabs the other one to hold up in the air. You’re thankful when he sways you softly, worried that heavier movements mixed with the dizziness that his proximity brings would most likely result with you hitting the floor. 

“I’d say it’s working.” His breath grazes your temple, pulling a shudder out from deep within your body. 

“Hm?” You hum, pulling back a bit to look into his eyes.

“Our relationship. She seems convinced.” You swallow thickly and nod, glad in someway that you’ve managed to persuade this woman into thinking you’re in love with each other. You must be great actors, maybe you should both consider a career change. “She told me she was single.”

“Oh.” You mutter, seemingly all you can manage in that moment. “And how do you feel about that?”

He holds your stare with slightly furrowed brows and you can see the wheels turning inside his mind. Whether or not it’s because he’s reading yours or formulating his answer, you’re not sure. And you may never know because the sound of the bell pulls you away from him and his attention. When you glance over at the bar, it’s packed and Penny looks like she’s drowning. 

Without giving it much thought, you press a kiss to Hangman’s cheek and whisper “I’ll see you later.” before booking it back to work.

——

You lose track of time, as you do frequently when the bar is this full. A couple of minutes may have passed, maybe a few hours, before Penny taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, sweetie. Can you do me a favor and run these out back? They’re taking up too much room behind here.” Penny asks, arms full of empty Coors Light boxes. You happily accept them from her grasp and make your way out of the back exit. When you manage to push the door open, you’re met with the sight of Hangman and his ex. Alone. Out back. With her hand on his chest.

You flinch involuntarily, nearly dropping the boxes all over the pavement. Hangman takes a big step backwards and his ex tucks her hands behind her back, all while you just stand there, wide-eyed. Should you be mad, as his fake girlfriend? It shouldn’t really hurt yet, it does. You can feel that pain settling in like a pit in your stomach. Does this count as cheating, even if technically no cheating can occur if everyone involved is single? If it is, should you cause a scene?

Ugh, they need a rule book for the parameters of fake dating. 

“Y/N,” Jake takes a step toward you “this isn’t what it looks like.” Your eyes flicker between Hangman and his ex, who both do a horrible job of hiding their guilt stricken features and you think okay, that’s bull but, you plaster on a smile anyway.

“No, yeah, of course. I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.” You toss the boxes into the recycling before heading back toward the door. You’ve almost scurried your way out of the situation when you hear Jake call your name again. You grip the handle, hard, and look over your shoulder. “I’ve got to get back in there.”

And that, you do. You work feverishly, like the only thing in the world that matters to you is serving the best drinks these customers have ever had. You only focus on three things; pouring, cleaning, cashing out and doing it again and again. You certainly do not focus on the thought of Hangman and his ex, standing so close, touching each other.

Pour, clean, cash out, pour, clean, cash out.

When Penny rings the last call bell, the relief you feel is so deep that you’re sure it’s radiating from your bones. The night’s finally over, which means you can put these weird, confusing circumstances with Hangman to bed and return back to your completely normal friendship tomorrow. 

You were hoping to head out early, sneaky and silent to avoid a certain someone. But Penny asked you to cover the closing duties and you simply cannot say no to that wonderful woman. So you stayed busy and by the time the bar is cleared out, you want to celebrate - you’ve successfully evaded that conversation. 

That is, until Hangman comes sauntering up to the bar seemingly out of no where. 

“So, about earlier. I can explain-“

“Don’t worry, we’re not actually dating remember? So, no real apologies needed.”

“Right.” A beat of silence passes. You’re very close to being the one to break the silence, to ask him if you were going to pretend this night ever happened or simply ignore all of it and say goodnight. But, he beats you to it.

“She asked me if I thought we were going to last. She asked me for a second chance, something about seeing me after all this time and realizing she still has feelings.” You nod, putting on a brave face. If that’s what Jake wants, if being back with her would make him happy then, so be it.

“I told her I didn’t want her. I told her I loved you.” You swallowed the emotion clawing its way up your throat.

“Right, because to her, we’re in a completely legitimate relationship and couldn’t be happier.”

“Exactly.” More silence and you take it as an opportunity to really look at him. You take in his droopy posture, his slightly unfocused eyes. He looks sad. And all you want to do is make him feel better. 

“Hey,” You place a hand over his “hypothetically, you chose the moral high road tonight. I’m proud of you for that. You don’t deserve someone who would put herself out there for a guy who’s taken.” You wink to try to lighten his mood but, he only manages a give you a thin grin back. 

“I’m sure you’ll find the right someone ... someday.” You add, the words tasting like battery acid on your tongue. 

“I’m not really looking.” He grits out, removing his hand from under yours. 

“But .. you leave with women all the time, I’ve seen you.” You scoff, turning around because you need to scrub the other side of the bar and because you know if he continues to look you in the eye for long enough, he’ll see right through you. He’ll see right into your heart and find that little part of it you’ve tucked away for him.

“You’re seeing things then because I haven’t. I haven’t slept with a woman, even so much as thought about it since ...” He trails off and you pause, anticipation compelling your body to vibrate, like a jet engine starting up inside your chest.

“Since when?”

“Since I met you.”

You feel your breath hitch and have to grip the edge of the bar to keep yourself up right considering your limbs have decided to turn to gelatin. You turn to face him, taking in his glazed over eyes and delicate features.

“But that was-“

“Trust me, you do not need to remind me how long it’s been.” He forces out a breathy chuckle. You’re convinced that blood no longer pumps in your veins, fire courses through you instead and it’s igniting every particle in your body like they’re sparks waiting to catch. You drop the rag you’ve been using and step out from behind the bar, aching to be closer to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I figured you didn’t want to be with someone like me. Someone who’s gone half the time, someone who may never come back.” He shakes his head, letting it hang low. “I didn’t want to put you through that.”

You reach out, tracing the collar of his khaki uniform with your fingertips. “Can’t I make that decision for myself?”

“You can,” He looks up, resting a hand over the one you have against him “but if you chose to be with me then, you’re making the wrong one.”

“Then let me be wrong.” You let Jake guide your hand to his cheek. He leans into your touch before putting his other hand around your waist and pulling you into him. He kisses you with all the hunger and passion you felt the night on your porch, that you’ve continued to feel for him since. His lips are warm and burning with need as he takes control, diving his tongue deeper like he’s desperate for air and the only oxygen left in the word is buried inside you. 

He pushes his body against yours, walking you back into the wooden edge of the bar. Desperation starts to bleed through, wrecking all your precision and turning both of your movements sloppy and frantic. You think it must be unnatural to kiss someone with this much desire, to no longer need air as much as you need their lips on yours. Eventually, one of you will pull away to breathe but, you’ll be on your last dying gasp before you do.

What pulls you away from each other isn’t basic human need - it’s Penny, pushing through the door from the kitchen and freezing in her tracks once she realizes what she’s seeing.

You break apart with blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment rather than lust.

“Pen, uh-“ You push Jake further away from you “this isn’t what it looks like?”

Hangman laughs, latching his hand around yours before pulling you back to him without remorse. “Sorry Penny, this is exactly what it looks like.” 

——

^ me, preaching Hangman supremacy

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman fic #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin fic #jake 'hangman' seresin fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun #top gun fanfiction

[leviathans-body-pillow]

“But what about my kitten!?”

The new exchanged student asked looking anxiously at Lucifer.

“As I said we have made arrangements for all your human world responsibilities.” He answered, not quite sure what part of they made arrangements you didn’t understand.

“No you don’t understand! They’re only a few weeks old! I’m like their parent and litter in one, we can’t be apart right now!” You try to plead your case. If you have to spend a year in hell fine whatever but you refuse to do it without your kitten.

“I’m afraid we’re not able to accommodate a cat, surly it will be fine in foster care until you return.” Lucifer didn’t like the way you looked at him, it was just a cat. It’s not like they asked you to leave behind your human child.

“But they’ve already been abandoned once,” you start to choke up. “They’re gonna think I abandoned them too.” Now you’re crying. The human exchange student has been in Devildom for less than five minutes and they’re already crying.

Diavolo speaks up, “surely there’s room at the house of lamentation for one little kitten.” He doesn’t wait to Lucifer to object before he continues. “We’ll make the arrangements for you kitten to be brought with the rest of your personal items.”

“Promise,” you ask between sniffs, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“You have my word as prince.” He assured you.

*************************************************

How the brothers react

Lucifer

He’s not pleased. It’s not that he has anything against cats. He’s just not mentally prepared for the chaos having one in the house will cause. Surely his brothers will find a way to make it his problem. He’s not sure how yet but he’s got a bad feeling. He’s not quite sure what it takes to care for such a young kitten. Truly he’s impressed by how responsible and nurturing you are for it. Although he is worried about it getting in the way of your lessons. Or his brothers getting in the way constantly bothering you to spend time with your cat.

Mammon

Our first cat person. He already spends a lot of time hanging around you being your first and all. But now he has even more reason to spend time in your room. He loves playing with them so you can study. May buy too many cat toys for them. Will definitely act like you two are a couple and your kitten is your child. If you ever argue or try to kick him out of your room he’ll pick them up and say shit like “but think of our baby” in the end he spoils them and become just as attached to your cat as he is too you

Leviathan

What shut in anime nerd doesn’t like cats? You kitten definitely helps Levi warm up to you. It’s not that he wants to spend time with a normie like you but he does want to see you kitten. He actually becomes essential in taking care of them when you first arrive. Kittens that small can’t be left alone all day. Thankfully Levi takes a lot of classes online and is able to watch them throughout the day. He still keeps them in your room, he can’t have them trying to jump on his shelves and knock down his precious collection.

Satan

He could barely contain his excitement at how it worked out. If Diavolo hadn’t spoken for Lucifer he would have. Even if it took a legendary tantrum, he was not going to pass up on the opportunity to have an little kitten living at hol. This leads to you and Satan becoming close very quickly. He’s pretty much always in your room. At first just for your kitten but this eventually lead to him wanting to be with you as well. It gets to the point Lucifer has to come pull him away so he’s not getting in the way of your studies.

Asmodeus

Asmo’s not really a cat person. But he can’t deny that your little kitten is adorable! He snaps hundred of photos snd videos of them of his devilgram story. Will try to steal them away to use as a prop. You have day by day documentation of them growing from how often Asmo photographs them. Unlike his older brothers he doesn’t stick around very long, getting bored of your kitten as soon as their attention wonders away from him. But his visits are still fairly frequent.

Beelzebub

He tries to eat them. They’re just so tiny and bite sized. At least he didn’t want to eat your kitten anymore than he wanted to eat you at first. Even after he gets over his initial hunger he’s not any quicker to warm up to you. He’s just not a cat person so he doesn’t go out of his way to hang around.

Belphegor

After the whole incident, he’s disappointed he missed out of seeing the kitten when it first arrived. By the time he’s free your kitten is already a few months old and very energetic. He’s not a huge fan of them when they’re running around bouncing off the walls. But he does adore when they finally burn out and want to cuddle. Loves taking little cat naps with them but isn’t too thrilled when they jump on him or swat at him in his sleep.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #om swd #obey me headcanons #obey me writing #om asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me swd #obey me luficer #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

[tavina-writes]

MDZS Society! aka: there's a lot less killing than you'd expect

This follows from this post and also the recent translations of MXTX’s most recent interview (which I can now no longer bother to find bc this has been sitting in drafts for like, siiiix months? More? Oh god anyway.) which reminded me about my feelings regarding MDZS society and how different it is from the martial societies we see depicted in typical modern wuxia. (Small disclaimer, I am a wuxia genre fiend and I love like, thinking about fictional societies so this is like, “AHA! You’ve unlocked my trap card!”) 

For the purposes of this, I’m going to be looking at MDZS/CQL’s depiction of the jianghu (which I think is fairly similar! I don’t actually think the show writers made CQL’s jianghu/martial society more genre typical than it was in the book) and comparing that with modern classic wuxia (mostly Jin Yong and Gu Long works.) For this comparison, I’ll be looking at a Jin Yong book — Legend of the Condor Heroes (which is widely considered the starting point of modern wuxia as a genre) — and one Gu Long book — Dagger Li/Sentimental Swordsman, Ruthless Sword (widely considered his most popular work) — and seeing how their societies differ from MDZS society. 

This will likely come in two parts because this one was already getting long, and I don’t think we can fit “how often does nobility exist in a typical jianghu and what do bloodline sects look like normally versus what they look like in MDZS” in this post along with the main topic of “is MDZS society a particularly physically violent place?” 

This post discusses how often cultivators are socially expected to kill people. Like, actual living human beings instead of, say, monsters or ghosts which have been categorized differently than like, human beings. 

EDIT: I forgot to talk about Dagger Li but this was already much too long sorry. Feel free to hmu for more thoughts though.

Now, it might be easy to think that cultivators killing actual people is a really common thing in MDZS/CQL universe! After all, they do have martial arts training and one of the prominent things about the first life is just how many people die both in the Sunshot Campaign and the fallout afterwards. However, I would argue that a lot of the traumas and related issues and reactions that happen in MDZS happen because cultivators are, by training and education, not actually prepared for killing actual living breathing human beings! (And also that the morality of this world prevents it for the most part) 

Now, we do actually get a pretty good window into what the typical training is like for young cultivators in MDZS, because we get a fairly well defined schoolhouse scene where LQR is asking them questions about "how do you tell the difference between various different problems we have to solve?" and "how do you go about fixing this problem?" and none of those include the moral quandary of "if I, a young cultivator out in the Jianghu, see a guy who is doing something I morally disagree with, under what circumstances do I beat him up and/or kill him." This does not appear to enter the curriculum at any point, leading me to believe that the morally correct number of people not like, ghosts or ghouls or fierce corpses, a regular average MDZS cultivator is supposed to have killed is approximately 0.

Which. Is a thing you get in a normal martial arts wuxia jianghu. There is generally the threat of "oh yeah this that or the other faction will be doing shitty things and thereby try to murder you." Instead, in MDZS/CQL most of the heirs of sects are...attending school together. Doing teenage things like partying and gossiping and attending classes.

And sure yes, there was a case of WWX and JZX trying to beat each other up. But the sects did sure let their kids stay at Lan summer camp for months on end (sometimes repeatedly, see NHS) without fearing for their lives or that anyone would steal another sect's techniques or otherwise causing real havoc or intersect warfare etc.

Which is infeasible in any other sort of Jianghu situation. For example, contrast this scenario with this scene from LOCH where Guo Jing's shifus are giving him advice since he is newly 17 and about to set out by himself into the great big world:

Guo Jing therefore bid farewell to his teachers. They had witnessed his battle against the Four Demons of the Yellow River, and were not too greatly worried. The young man had proved that he knew how to use the skills that they taught him. Therefore they let him leave alone. On one hand, the meeting of outlaws in Yanjing worried them greatly, so that they could not ignore it; and on the other hand, a youngster always had to travel the jianghu alone, in order to learn lessons that no teacher could pass on. At the moment of parting, each made their last recommendations. As usual when the Six spoke after one another, Nan Xiren was the last one to express himself. "If you cannot defeat the enemy," he said. "Flee!" He knew that given Guo Jing's dogged character, he would prefer to die rather than to surrender, if he met a master, he would certainly fight to the bitter end, even at the risk of death. That was the reason Nan Xiren gave him this common sense warning. " Martial arts have no limits," added Zhu Cong. " As the proverb says, 'For every peak there is one yet higher', so for every man there is one stronger. Whatever your power, you will always one day meet a foe stronger than you. A true man knows to retreat when necessary, when facing grave danger, it is necessary to contain one's impatience and anger. This what is meant by the adage, « If one preserves the earth and its forests, one does not fear to lack firewood ». It is not therefore not cowardly to take good advice! When the enemy is too numerous and that you cannot face them there, it is especially necessary to avoid being too reckless. Keep in mind Fourth Shifu's advice!"

Does this seem like the sort of advice that any Young MDZS Cultivator would get? "You're a good kid, but when you go out into the world, there will be people who straight up want you dead even though they met you 15 minutes ago, you cannot persist in fighting with these people because they will want you dead and you are a baby cultivator who needs to learn to run away when shit gets rough or you will be dead."

And again I come back to how MDZS cultivators are more like occupational ghostbusters because this really does inform how their society functions and runs and how everyone reacts so badly to the Sunshot Campaign beginning and its aftermaths and possibly explains how JGS could get his way after Sunshot.

Because what happens when you get a society that does train heavily in martial arts and have Able To Kill Real People Weapons who spends most of their time solving very black and white situations of "okay is this ghost whose eating people's livers good or bad? y/n?" and a clear hierarchy of "how do we get rid of the ghost eating people's livers in town x" instead of say "is it morally correct to kill this group of bandits who's been threatening the town" or "is it morally correct to kill this shitty businessman who's been holding people hostage and threatening to hack off their limbs" you have a reduced level of philosophical musing on like, "what is the purpose of martial arts, which is designed to kill people and what do I use martial arts for?" and "under what circumstances and situations would I personally find it morally correct to kill a man?" Which are all questions that Wuxia coming of age stories typically have, and I think MDZS does have, but expressed differently.

Again, it appears that the number of Real Live Human Beings that it is morally acceptable to have stabbed in your life is approximately 0 in this universe, and the expectation that you, personally, might have to fend off people trying to stab you over brunch is also approximately 0.

This also leads to a situation where like, questions of vengeance have very difficult escape hatches! If your parents are murdered on the job by an evil rampaging ghost, this is very sad and tragic and now you're an orphan and of course that's not good, but this is a occupational job hazard, not like, "Yeah Joe Bob from the sect down the street murdered my dad because #Reasons~, and now it's my legacy to grow up to murder Job Bob from the sect down the street to avenge my dad."

(I have a whole essay about how this pertains to both of the Nie Brothers, and how it pertains to JGY and also Jin Ling, and how this seems to routinely fuck people up in MDZS in a very specific way we don't typically see in other wuxias, but this is getting SO long as it is).

But yeah "the socially acceptable number of real living people (instead of ghosts or demons or fierce corpses or whatever) to have killed in your lifetime as a cultivator is approximately 0" means that the Sunshot Generation gets really really fucked up by all of this "killing real people" they did.

Which! might be why JFM was so slow to move on "yeah the Wen are threatening to kill your heirs." <- socially inconceivable behavior. Why society in general is so shocked by Xue Yang and the murder of the Chang <- which would be bad normally but not quite like this. And why no one did anything specific about JGS even if they felt he wasn't entirely correct. What are they going to threaten him with? Death???? A trial of his peers? Social Shunning??? Public shame???

"But Tav how does this relate to CQL!Su She's morality?" I hear you ask. Well you see, the question of "he should've been ready to die for his sect!" is utterly baffling in a society where nobody is expected to be ready to die for their sect on a regular basis because the idea that you should be ready for someone trying to stab you before brunch is utterly nonsensical in a world where most people expect that the baseline number of murders a cultivator does in their lifetimes is 0. That's the world he lives in.

On this regard CQL!Su She is utterly blameless. Nobody handed him a rulebook or expectations sheet for "the sect down the street will try to kill you" nor SHOULD they expect he'd be ready to die at a drop of a hat when no part of the education or social expectations include "ready to die for your sect because it's routine for people to try to kill you."

If you don't even expect to be stabbed and possibly die at a discussion conference where there are lots of cultivators from many sects why on EARTH would you expect to be facing down death in your own home when there's. cultivators here to kill you, this situation is so out of left field?

#modao zushi #mdzs #meta #my meta #su she #this is not a society *without* violence to be clear #but it's not the sort of place where it'll have been acceptable to murder and maim before breakfast #and that's why traumas happen as they do #I've been sitting on this for ages #please don't discourse in my notes about if 'murder' is a good thing or a bad thing #this is just an observation on like #'is it societally common for cultivators to run around killing people?' #the answer to this question is no

[thefandomdirtymind]

The Haircut

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sequel : The Small Favor (18+)

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon 

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

—

Sanji was in a weird mood.

Not that it was affecting his food,delicious like always, or the easy conversation you usually have after breakfast around a strong cup of coffee. But, even from your seat at the far corner of the table, your book abandoned at the benefit of your curiosity, you could see that something was bothering the cook.

Busy at chopping vegetables for a future meal, his face a total mask of concentration you hadn’t seen on him for something as easy, you heard him sigh of frustration as he passed a hand on his blond lock. His hair that you had often joked that you could easily make a fortune of, as much they look like golden filaments. His hair, which now was long enough to reach his chin.  

“ Sanji ? “ You advanced, not wanting to irritate him more if your deduction was wrong. After all, his mood could be affected by a lot of things, starting by waking up from the wrong side of the bed to Luffy stealing an item prepared especially for the supper of the next day. “ Isn’t your hair aren’t becoming a little bit long ?”

Putting his knife down, giving you all his attention, he offered you a smile that didn't exactly reach his eyes. 

“ Indeed sweetheart, when I was at Baratie, Zeff would call a barber for the whole crew since we were cut for most of the civilisation. With luck, sometimes, one of the new cooks or waiters was an old barber.But on this ship, I didn’t realize it could become a problem. Then, here I am already incommode with the curtain of my hair and it’s starting to play with my nerves. “

“ I can cut them for you if you want “ You offer, closing your book for good. Helping your favorite crew member was way more interesting. “ I’m not a pro, of course, but I gave some haircuts to the kid in my village and they never complained.”

“ I wouldn’t bother you, it just irritates me when my vision is as obstructed.” He hesitated. 

“ Sanji, I offer it. “ You smile, knowing way too well how the tall man loves to care for others,but rarely asks for anything other than help to charge his grocery shopping “ I have nothing more to do than read that book and trust me, it can wait. But, I will not force you, if you don’t want me to cut your hair.We still can use hair pins until we reach an island with a city” 

“ No darling,it’s okay, I trust you “ He replied, a true smile on his lips.

“ Ok, then I will go take my scissors and I will come back.” You said, leaving the kitchen. 

When you came back, Sanji had been busy. A single chair had been put aside in the best light angle, some towels were aligned on the counter and the broom was waiting in his corner. 

“Will you need something else ? “ Sanji asked. 

“ No it’s perfect, thank you “ You confirmed “ If you’re ready, take place and I will do the rest okay ? “

Nodding of the head, the blond sits, letting you work. 

As you expected, the hair of Sanji was clean and soft under your touch. Passing your fingers into his hair, trying to determine where to cut and how much. You often saw him close his eyes, with a pleasant smile, clearly enjoying the sensation of your hands through his locks. Repressing the need to tease him, you carefully made the first chop. 

Reaching the front part of his hair, you gently cut his bang, millimeter by millimeter,  trying as much as possible to stay focused and not meet his soft but, also burning, gaze on you.

“ Sanji, if you continue to look at me like that you will finish with less hair than you expected “ You warned, cutting the straws between your fingers at the right length. 

“ I’m sorry, if I distract you, I just didn’t notice how pretty your eyes were…” He softly replied, his flirty tone present but underneath a new awe you had rarely heard from him. “ It's just that we never had the chance to see our faces so up close aren’t we ? “

“ Never had the occasion, it’s true “ You said, adjusting the cut around his ears. Of course due to his nature, Sanji had always kind of flirted with you and since you knew that said nature, you didn’t take it personally. So with time, it became a great friendship. But, here, at only a few inches of his face, you couldn’t say that all your thoughts were totally friendly. 

“ I maybe should have tried harder “ He flirted, giving you this playful smile you like that much. 

Lightly laughing, you finished the last touch, doing the last check by passing your fingers through his hair one last time, before putting down your scissors. 

“Hello Handsome” You flirted back, intending as being more a tease than an actual line. But as you were arranging his hair in his usual hair style. You caught his eyes still focused on you, and the interesting blush effect that your innocent greeting to his freshly former self had caused. 

“ Hello coeur en sucre * “ He replied softly, as much unsure as you if the palpable tension of your accidental flirting will lead to a sweet result or in a silent agreement to forget the moment.  * Sweetheart/ Heart of sugar

Your gaze caught in each other, your faces close enough that you could smell the faint odor of his last cigarette under his breath. You closed your eyes and gently put your mouth on his, feeling your role switch as his hand flew into your hair, pulling you closer. Soft and tender, the kiss was slow, almost fragile, often broken as he nibbled on your bottom lips before joining your mouth for another kiss. 

As the moment passed, you broke the embrace, realizing that you just kissed your friend. Your favorite friend.  

“ I’m done “ You finally said, taking a few steps back. Trying to act like nothing happened.  

“ I’m really grateful, thank you “ He smiled. Getting up, already taking the broom before  sweeping the floor in a large strike. His usual friendly behavior, back. Trying as much as you, to act like he didn’t just taste the sweetness of your lips. 

“ I will help you clean, “ You said. 

“ Y/n, it’s okay, I swear. Go read your book, look it’s already finish” He stopped you, already putting the chopped hair in the trash. “ I really appreciate it, thank you “ 

As you leave the room, your book under your arm, you weren't truly sure if he was thanking you for the hair cut or the kiss.     

As time passed, it became a ritual for you to cut Sanji hair when needed. In exchange, even if you had protested many times that he didn’t have to repay you in any kind. He had learned, with Nami you easily guessed. To do many hairdos. Braiding your hair on hot days, practical ponytail for hard work or some elaborated buns for rainy ones. Your friendship was still going strong even if the memory was still vivid in both of your heads and often kept you awake, wondering. 

As for Sanji, something, as the night is quiet and he keeps himself busy in the kitchen. He couldn’t help himself to think about your soft lips against his and sigh. Hoping one day have another taste of your sweet kisses. 

---

A/N : I know that the end seem a little bit sad, but as I was writing it, I have the thought that it could be a good Prequel for The Small Favor (18+) . I like the idea the dynamic of Y/N and Sanji are like exchanging favors as token of their love. Yes, no, maybe ?

If you have ideas of other favor I could write, let me know please. I could maybe write more for that serie, I don't know.

#one piece netflix #opla #opla!sanji x reader #sanji x reader #opla sanji #vinesmoke sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #opla vinesmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n

[hairrington]

Without A Clue

Summary: Steve is into you. Really, really into you. The only problem is that everybody seems to know it but you. It’s not until you get dragged into the Upside Down that you finally start to see just how much he cares about you. Female reader hurt/comfort in which reader is clueless to Steve’s feelings! Requested by anon. Some canon divergence. CW: blood/injury. Gif credit to hawkinsindiana.

The rowboat was bobbing in the middle of Lovers Lake with the five of you inside, but it rocks even more when you stand.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Steve asks.

"The gate should be down there, right?" you say. "We have only one way to know for sure."

"You're jumping... in there?" Eddie asks, staring into the black water.

"I'll go," Steve urges.

"You snooze, you lose, Harrington," you say, peering over the corner, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Damn, (Y/N) has guts," Robin says with an impressed scoff.

"(Y/N), seriously," Steve mumbles.

"I'll be fine, Steve," you say. "Hate to brag, but I have great lung capacity." You give him a proud smile before plunging into the cold lake.

As you pump your arms through one breast stroke after another, deeper and deeper into the still water, you think about how you got here in the first place.

It all started with a part-time job at the arcade. One lunch break, you decided to kill time in the video rental store next door. You figured it was better than sitting in the arcade’s depressing break room.

Standing in the Sci Fi section, your eyes travelled over the spines of the VHS tapes. You noticed movement near you and looked up to catch a handsome man's eyes. The next second, you noticed his uniformed vest and name-tag.

"Looking for any recommendations?" he asked.

Normally, you would've said you were just browsing, but the guy was too sweet to turn away.

"Sure," you answered.

"Anything in particular you look for in a sci fi flick?" he asks, raising an arm to rest on the top shelf.

"Hmm, lots of action," you say.

"Adrenaline junkie?" he asks.

"You could say that," you answer.

"Well," Steve says, lips pursed. "You might like...” His eyes landed on a tape. “Somewhere In Time. Maybe. I don't know. To be honest, I'm trying to look like I'm good at my job in front of my boss."

You laughed, amused by this rambling stranger whose nametag you could now read: Steve. Sure enough, way at the front counter, a long-haired man stared daggers into the employee’s back.

"So, Steve,” you said. “I should look like I'm getting a lot of valuable information from you.” You began nodding and looking at Steve seriously, knowing you were being watched.

"Thank you," he said with a relieved smile.

"I get it," you said. "I got one of those types of managers next door."

"Oh, you work at the arcade?" Steve asked. 

“Yes,” you joked. You had put a cardigan over the itchy t-shirt you were forced to wear, put pointed to the small fraction of words on the shirt. “And I swear, time actually stops there.” Steve half-smirked.

“I thought it’d be fun to work over there.”

“I hear pinball machines in my sleep,” you said seriously, making Steve smirk again. “So, to make you look good, I should probably rent something out, huh?”

“I’ll owe you one,” Steve replied.

After that, you visited the video store way more often than you needed to, befriending both Steve and Robin and enjoying the laughs and customer horror stories you’d shared with them. They’d visit you, too, trying their hand at some of the arcade games and actually getting pretty good at them.

When you noticed some of the kids you saw at the arcade visiting the video store speaking with Steve and Robin with low tones and serious expressions, your curiosity got the best of you. And suddenly, you were immersed in the stories of the Upside Down - unbelievable, scary, but incredible stories.

Funny enough, as you dive deeper into the lake, Steve is thinking back to the first time you met, too.

"That's it, I'm going in," he says, staring at the water and shaking his head.

"Cool it, Romeo," Robin says. "It's been like ten seconds. Have some faith in her." Steve rolls his eyes at his friend’s incessant teasing about his crush on you.

"It's the monsters I don't have faith in, Robin," Steve complains.

Meanwhile, you had reached the bottom of the lake and encountered the red, otherworldly entrance to the dimension you’d heard so much about. If you weren’t underwater, you’d have gasped.

After swimming your way back up, your hands find the rim of the boat and you take in a big gulp of air. Steve is not much of a religious person, but when he sees you alive and well, he silently thanks God.

“So, there’s definitely a portal down there,” you breathe out, gazing between Steve, Eddie, Robin and Nancy, their faces lit up by the moon. The cold air presses up against your wet skin.

“Glad we settled that,” Steve says. “Get back in.”

“Yes, sir,” you chuckle. But when you set to lunge forward, instead, you feel a tight pressure around your leg. You let out a shriek before it pulls you down, filling your lungs with water. 

Fear boils deep into your bones as you watch the surface get farther away, gasping for air but only gulping in water.

Once air reaches you again, it's thick and smoggy. You lie on your front on the hard, rocky ground, gasping to breathe. Heart pounding, you look up to see red skies and disjointed rocks.

Is this the Upside Down?

You find the strength to get on your knees, still gasping and feeling the sting of water in your nose and throat.

High-pitched shrieking startles you as horrifying bat-like creatures lunge right for you. Burning pain rips through your shoulder when you realize one the creatures has dug its teeth into your skin.

You scream out, grabbing for it and pulling it off, the pain gruesome and nearly debilitating. You stomp on it, missing a few times, but successfully knocking it out.

When you were pulled down, Steve didn't hesitate. He dove headfirst in the water, fully clothed, knowingly and urgently swimming down into the dangerous world you had been pulled into.

You hear your name being shouted and you frantically look around, finally landing on Steve.

"Duck!" he screams, and you obey, narrowly missing another demon bat.

Nancy, Robin, and Eddie appear shortly after, the group of you swinging and strangling and stomping the bats. In the tussle, you feel fangs dig into your leg above your ankle, and you choke out a sob, continuing to fight for your life.

Finally, the last bat lets out a spine-chilling groan, lifeless on the ground.

Heaving, you all walk towards each other to form a haphazard circle, your ankle and shoulder burning.

"You alright?" Steve asks, primarily looking at you.

"Never better," you breathe, wincing. The shrieks of demobats return and to your horror, a hoard of them appear in the sky nearby.

"Over there!" Nancy points. You all follow her lead, running into the dark woods. Unfortunately, your newfound injury makes you limp far behind, and when Steve notices how far back you are, he turns towards you.

He runs your way and scoops you up, cradling you in his arms. You brace his sweater for stability, cotton bunching up under your fingers. Steve pants as he runs and you look up at him, his eyebrows furrowed as he gazes ahead.

The five of you find shelter in the murky forest full of tangled, disjointed branches. Steve slowly lowers you, strong hands still on your waist as you find your footing.

You feel faint, but don't want to show it and cause panic. Sure enough, though, you can't hide it from Steve.

"Is it bad?" he asks, breath hot on your neck.

"It's not good," you admit.

"Is it your leg?" Robin asks. Steve rounds you, giving you a chance to put all your weight on your feet. The burning in your ankle is still vicious, and you're still a bit drowsy, but it doesn't hurt as bad to stand.

"I guess one of those things got me," you mumble, looking up from your foot to your shoulder. "Twice."

"You shouldn't have jumped in the water," Steve mumbles. You roll your eyes, but he doesn't notice as he’s too busy pulling his yellow sweater off of his shoulders, revealing his torso.

"If I didn't jump, you would've," you answer. "So what difference does it make?" He gazes at the blood on your shoulder, the ash over your face, and it pains him to his core to see you so wounded.

Steve steps closer to you, looking down at his sweater as he rips it.

"I'd rather be the one cut up like this than you," Steve says at a volume only loud enough for you to hear.

"What kind of survival instinct is that, Harrington?" you tease. You look up at Robin to share an amused look, but she's only looking at you two empathetically.

"We'll catch up," Steve calls back to the other three over the sound of fabric ripping in his hands. "Just don't walk too fast."

Robin only shrugs in agreement and slowly makes her way in the forest with Nancy and Eddie.

Screeching and howling in the distance fills your ears as Steve takes one half of the sweater in his hands, the other tucked under his elbow.

"But that was such a nice sweater," you say quietly, trying to earn a smile from Steve. It doesn't take.

"I don't care about the sweater," he says.

You're close enough to see the wrinkles his forehead makes when he winces as he wraps the fabric around your shoulder. The pressure against the wound stings, and you recoil.

"Shit, sorry," he says. "We just have to put pressure on it, okay?"

"I know," you whisper, nodding quickly. "Do what you have to do."

He tightens the fabric around your arm up to your shoulder, tying a knot at your shoulder blade. You find a place to focus your eyes, and it just so happens to be his chest, peppered with tufts of hair.

Then your eyes travel up to his face. His very concerned looking face.

"Steve, jeez, you look..." Worried isn't quite the word. It's not strong enough. "Distraught. It's okay! I didn't die."

"You got hurt, though," he answers, bending down with the other half of the fabric, investigating the gash on your ankle. "Can you hold onto me?"

You oblige, moving your good arm to grip his firm, naked shoulder. You stare down at Steve, hair tousled, as he creates a tourniquet around your ankle.

Finally, Steve rises to his feet, towering over you with frantic eyes.

"Thanks for patching me up," you say. "Now stop looking so worried."

"(Y/N), we care about you, okay?" he says quietly. "I care about you. I can't... I can't see you get hurt." Steve sighs, cupping your shoulders, grip loose on the bad shoulder. "You don’t see how much you matter to me? Don't you get it?"

His eyes skitter away, then return to yours. Steve's so close, smelling of sweat and cologne.

"Get what?" you ask.

Your eyes travel his face, waiting for an indication of what he's talking about.

"I don’t know when I wanted to do this but this is definitely not the time. We should go," Steve says, words rushed. He’s nervous. You’ve never seen Steve nervous. "Are you okay to walk?"

The confusion of the last five seconds sends your head spinning, so all you can do is nod. No need for Steve to carry you again, no matter how comforting it was. And no need to make a joke about it, because whatever happened between you just shifted everything.

How much you matter to him? This isn’t the time? What the hell is he talking about?

Sure, you’d been friends for a few months now and of course a person cares about their friends, but as you make your way through the woods, careful not to roll your ankle, you can’t get the soft, meaningful way Steve was looking at you out of your head.

Steve marches in front of you, listening for your footsteps to make sure you’re okay, but unable to bear turning around to look at you again. He's too nervous that he's ruined everything with you.

As much as he likes you, your obliviousness has frustrated him to no end.

Whenever he’d ask to hang out outside of work, you’d ask if Robin was coming, too. Whenever he complimented you, you’d roll your eyes and assume he was joking. Whenever he’d go above and beyond to show he cared about you, you’d smile in that sweet way you always did, too stubborn to see that he was falling for you. 

Robin had been telling him to just give it to you straight. But right now? In this squalid forest in the Upside Down? Not the time to just spill it out to you.

You stare at his bare back as you follow him, watching the dips and valleys of his muscles, and you’re not sure if he’s mad or just stressed out. You feel like you’re missing an important piece to the puzzle, but you’ve searched everywhere and the piece simply isn’t there.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie says as you approach the group. “Anyone know how much longer we have to walk through literal hell?”

“We’re close,” Nancy says matter-of-factly. 

“(Y/N), you alright?” Robin asks, eyes darting between you and Steve. He finally turns around, concerned eyes boring into you.

“Yeah,” you say. “Thank you, Steve.”

He gives you a genuine smile, albeit small, and turns back around. Robin meets your eyes again and you mouth “I don’t know” to her with a shake of your head. She looks like she wants to say something, but doesn’t.

When you reach the Wheeler house, you’re grateful to see that at least couches exist in this alternate dimension. At this point, the ache in your ankle is sharp again, and you desperately need a break.

As the others go upstairs and explore the house, you sink into the living room couch and trying to even your breathing. Guilt finds its way into your core when you think back to Steve’s frantic eyes and shaking hands. He was terrified for you.

A minute passes, and when you hear the four of your group members talking upstairs, you grab the armrest, pushing yourself up onto your feet. The break helped.

As you go towards the noise to find the group, quick footsteps hammer down the stairs and you get to the staircase to find that Steve has just reached the bottom.

“Hey, you alright?” he asks.

“Just took a little break,” you say. “Steve, I’m sorry that I scared you.”

“Hey,” Steve whispers. He can’t take the sad expression on your face - the way your mouth turns down and the way your eyelids drop kills him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

You swallow hard and nod, looking up the staircase in the dark, musky house.

“You can hold my hand if you want to,” Steve says gently, and you take it without hesitation, his palm calloused and warm. Your heart races at the intimate gesture.

When you make it to the bedroom, Robin takes note of you and when her eyes dart to your hand clasped in Steve’s, you swear that she smiles for a second.

Being guided by Dustin’s echoing voice from the world you’re desperately trying to get back to, the five of you stare at an orb of light, debris floating menacingly. You kneel in front of the light, and when you lose grip with Steve’s hand, you’re surprised to realize how empty you feel without his touch.

After staring at the light for a few moments, an idea pops into your head.

“Trace with your finger,” you say quietly to nobody in particular, and when Nancy tries and it works, the others gasp in disbelief.

“Good one, arcade girl,” Robin says, amazed. You grin at your friend.

When you realize you have to make it to Eddie’s trailer, dread fills your body. You’re not sure if you can walk again. But when you discover that you can bike there, you’re much more up for the task. You make it to the trailer soon after, relieved knowing you’re one step closer to getting home.

Breaking any and all laws of physics, the five you climb and somehow fall at the same time into the right version of the world. Breathing in normal air brings you a wave of comfort.

You all take a second to inhale and exhale and let it sink in that you’ve made it back. You gaze up at the portal that separates you from the terrifying world you’d been attacked in.

Then, you look to your aching shoulder to see that your blood has soaked through Steve’s sweater. Dread crawls up your back. Your impulse is find Steve’s eyes next, and when you do, you see that he’s chewing on his bottom lip as he stares at your shoulder.

“(Y/N) needs to get to the hospital,” Steve announces, more so to himself than anyone else. You’ve been successfully softening the magnitude of your injuries, but now, seeing that much blood and feeling as faint as you feel, you can finally agree with Steve’s uneasiness.

“Get them home,” Steve says to Robin, Steve, and Eddie, motioning to the kids. “And I’ll get her to a doctor.”

“Steve, the neighbor two trailers down has one of those magnet key boxes,” Eddie says, glancing between you two. “Under his front left tire. I’ve... taken it for a spin a few times. I swear, the old guy sleeps like a rock. He’s never caught me.”

“We can’t steal someone’s car,” you say, wary.

“We’ll borrow it,” Steve says, nodding to Eddie. “We’ll take anything we can get now. You need a doctor.”

You’re too tired to argue.

“And you probably need a shirt, dingus,” Robin comments. Steve looks down and nods quickly, so distracted by your state of need that he can’t think of anything else.

After Eddie lends Steve a plain black t-shirt, the two of you pace to the neighbor’s Ford in silence. You settle into the pick-up truck, feeling throbbing in your shoulder.

“How’s the ankle?” Steve asks once he slides into the driver’s seat. The engine comes to life when he turns the key.

“Better than the shoulder,” you say.

Steve exhales deeply, and when you glance over at him, you notice his hands are shaking on the steering wheel.

The two of you make it out of the neighborhood and onto a main road that you recognize.

He’s scared. He’s so, so scared. In the Upside Down - hell, even in the Russians’ bunker, he was more calm than he is now. He can’t stand to see you in danger like this. 

Street lamps plunge you in and out of light.

The pain and the fatigue hits you like a train, and you feel hot tears build in your eyes. You can’t hold them back and they slip down your cheeks, letting out quiet sniffles.

"Oh no, baby, please don’t cry,” Steve whispers, the pet name slipping out and immediately embarrassing him. “We've got like... not even ten minutes, okay?"

"I'm just tired," you mumble.

"It's okay. We're getting you to a hospital. It's okay."

In his time working at Family Video, Steve had seen his fair share of drama films. And one thing he remembers about when someone is seriously injured: keep them talking.

"Talk to me about something else," Steve tells you. "Anything."

"I'm really glad I have tomorrow off," you mumble. It makes Steve chuckle, and you smile to yourself. "Finally, I get you to laugh. You've been so serious all night. It's unlike you."

You think back to how courageous Steve was in the Upside Down. He was like an action hero.

"But seriously, you were kind of amazing down there, Harrington," you mumble honestly.

Steve feels his cheeks get warm. How can you say things like that and not realize what it does to him?

"Yeah, I know," he quips, making a right turn. Only a few blocks left.

"Humble as always," you mumble, feeling your eyelids getting heavier. Steve looks over at you.

"Do me a favour?" he says.

"Hmm?"

"Keep your eyes open?"

You sigh, forcing your eyes open.

"Yes, sir," you tease.

"So, what would you have done tomorrow? With your day off? Tell me everything you're thinking." Steve asks.

"I was planning on catching up on sleep," you tell him. You think of your home. Your bed. Your mom works nights, so you'd probably wake up when she's already back home and sleeping. At least you know she left for work before you set out of the house tonight, so she has no idea that you spent your evening fighting inter-dimensional monsters.

"I'd have a quiet morning," you continue. "My mom would already be back in bed, so I'd watch the tv on low. Then I was thinking of dropping by Hawkins' best video store."

"Best, huh?" Steve asks. He loves when you come into store. Hearing the door jingle and looking to see you walking through it always gives him happy goosebumps.

"I know a guy. Gives all the best recommendations."

"Sounds... not true."

"Okay, yeah, I lied," you say. "But his boss knows all the girls come in just to see him so he keeps him around."

"They do?" Steve chuckles.

"Don't play clueless, Harrington," you tease, fighting to keep your eyelids up.

Steve shakes his head to himself. If only you knew how clueless you were about how much he likes you.

"How's it driving?" you ask.

"Higher up than I'm used to," Steve answers with a nervous chuckle. He goes through a green light. "But okay."

"It smells like peanuts in here," you say. Steve laughs. "Hey, you said to tell you everything I'm thinking."

"I'm glad you are," Steve says.

"I can't believe that this car is stolen right now."

"Borrowed."

"You stole a car for me," you say.

"I'd do anything for you," Steve replies.

This sends your heart fluttering. Even in your drowsy state, you recognize the weight of his words.

"Remember when we met and I rented out that movie just to make you look good to Keith?" you ask.

"I was thinking about that actually," Steve says. "Earlier tonight." He thinks back to watching the water in Lovers Lake, praying you'd come back up to the surface.

"You said you owed me one."

"Yeah?"

"With everything you did tonight, consider it paid back. Like, tenfold."

"All I did tonight was freak out," Steve says.

One thing you know for sure about Steve after months of being friends with him: he likes to pretend to be cocky, but in reality, he can never take credit for how good of a guy he is.

"We're here," he announces, pulling into the hospital parking lot. You breathe a sigh of relief.

After checking in and claiming it was a stray dog that attacked you - "close enough", Steve had said to you privately - you were waiting in the small hospital room.

You assumed Steve would've wanted to stay in the waiting room, but he offered to come with you, and it made you feel much less nervous.

You sit at the end of the hospital bed, and Steve is settled in a chair a few feet away from you, leg shaking rapidly. You look at him, his brown hair hanging over his forehead, chin resting in his hand, concerned eyes glued to you. His jeans and shoes are dirty and look funny with the clean borrowed t-shirt. You stare at each other, wordless.

In this moment, Steve can't think of anything more important in this world than you.

"So we got a dog bite here?" you hear a voice. You look up to see a woman in a lab coat enter through the door, with a nurse following close behind.

"Ye- yes," you mumble.

"Okay, let's take a look."

You peel off the soaked, ripped sweater Steve had given you, wincing at the pain. The doctor quickly examines it and looks at you.

Steve watches, heart ripped in two.

"You'll need stitches and antibiotics," the doctor explains to you. "We have anesthesia so the area will be numbed, alright?" the doctor explains.

"Okay," you repeat.

After the wound is cleaned and the numbing gel is applied, you look to Steve again. Remembering what he said back in the Upside Down in the Wheelers' home, you give him a weak smile.

"You can hold my hand if you want to," you say to him. Steve exhales with a smile, standing next to you, fingers interlacing with yours.

You don't look when the doctor puts in the stitches. After they check out your ankle and determine it doesn't need stitches, they clean and wrap it in gauze. The doctor then does a general check-up and determines that your blood loss level doesn't require extra attention, so you're okay to go home.

"But drink water and stay off your feet," she instructs. "And I'll see you soon to get those stitches out." The doctor looks to Steve. "Make sure she takes it easy and takes her antibiotics, okay?"

He nods with a serious expression, taking his mission to heart.

When you exit the hospital and get back into the pick-up truck, Steve takes a moment to hold his head in his hands and sigh deeply.

"I like you so much," he says quietly. He can't keep it in any longer.

You swallow hard, staring at him. His head is still in his hands, fingers in his messy hair.

"Wh- what?" Your voice is small. Disbelieving.

Steve drops his hands to his lap and looks at you. In the dark pick-up truck, the shadows aren't too stark, but you wish you could see his eyes better. See if what he's telling you really is true.

"I thought it was so obvious." He half-chuckles. Your eyes travel over his face. The weird comments about you not getting it, his anxiety over your injuries, the way he takes care of you. It all makes sense. The last puzzle piece clicks into place.

Your stomach numbs at your friend's confession. He likes you. And within the next millisecond, you realize you like him back.

"Watching you get hurt... I can't explain it, (Y/N). It kills me," he says. "I care about you so much. I can't keep it in anymore."

"Why did you?" you ask with a smile. "Keep it in, I mean."

"Waiting for the right moment?" he explains. "Waiting for you to see it yourself?"

"You'd be waiting forever," you tell him. "I'm clueless." Steve chuckles, dipping his head. "I'm clueless and I like you, too."

His head darts up - eyes big and smile bigger.

"Yeah?" Steve's tone is adorably excited.

"I thought it was so obvious," you tease. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

He's gentle when his lips find yours. No matter how hungry he is for this, for you, no matter how long he's wanted to kiss you, he's soft and slow with it. He wants to take his time, especially because you're injured.

His mouth is warm, a wonderful change from the cold bitterness of everything that took place tonight.

To Steve, kissing you is unlike how he imagined. It's somehow even better. And while he kisses you, he knows when he says he likes you, he really means love. But he'll save that word for a time when you've wrapped your head around everything that's happened tonight.

Steve pulls back, forehead pressed against yours, eyes closed.

"Sorry I'm clueless," you whisper. Steve laughs the sweetest laugh.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" he asks. Your heart swells.

"Yes," you reply, unable to think of any better way to say it.

"I want to stay here forever, but you need sleep and medication," he whispers back.

"Yes, sir," you sarcastically scoff.

Steve smiles below the next kiss he gives you and pulls back to start the car.

The entire ride home, you stare at your boyfriend's profile. He squints as he drives, previously shaky hands now steady. One hand is on your knee, and you hold it tightly, knowing that whatever is to come, you have someone looking out for you.

#fic #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #steve and reader #steve and y/n #steve harrington and reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagines

[carnivore-voyeur]

CW - Unmasked Ghoul Discussion Re: Use of Fandom Names vs. Nicknames & Maintaining Respect for Privacy

I’ve seen an uptick in people using the name “Sodo” in fanworks that are clearly based on the fictional Ghost / Ghouls universe. This is just a polite reminder that “Sodo” is Per Eriksson’s personal nickname that has nothing to do with Ghost. If we want to respect boundaries, it’s best to refer to the ghoul he plays with another name.

I know part of the problem is a result of Dewdrop and Sodo being conflated in fandom to the point that on AO3, content involving the fictional ghoul he plays has been labeled as Dewdrop | Sodo. That doesn’t mean that fans should use Sodo as a stand-in for Dewdrop, the fictional ghoul you are creating fanworks about.

I may use the term “Sodo Ghoul” in the tags whenever I’m referring to Per Eriksson performing as a Ghoul, but the fictional persona that was created by fans for the “character” he is playing on stage is “Dewdrop.” Of course, you can call that “character” something else if you like, but again… “Sodo” is not a fictional person. Sodo is Per Eriksson. Per Eriksson plays lead guitar for Ghost.

If you hear Papa Emeritus IV calling out “Sodo” on stage, it’s because he can technically call him that without revealing his identity as it’s a nickname. It’s not because “Sodo” is the name of the ghoul. I’m clearing this up, too, because there are people who comment on Ghost content with the belief that Sodo was a fan given name that they adopted for the Ghoul and/or they don’t know what Sodo means.

e.g.

As you can see by the dates, the misinformation regarding his nickname persists to this day.

There was a rumor started by fans that was never validated that Per Eriksson read a fanfic about his Ghoul persona and expressed that he hated the nickname “Dewdrop.” This is utter nonsense. First of all, please keep fanworks in fandom spaces. Don’t share them with the band. Second, Per Eriksson doesn’t spend much time on the internet let alone fandom spaces. So, that’s just bull.

If you don’t want to call the fan-named ghoul, Dewdrop. You can pick another name. It’s all fictional. There are no rules. Rules and boundaries come in when we’re dealing with real people. Per Eriksson has on more than one occasion talked about how uncomfortable he is with people finding out private information about him.

Here’s an excerpt of an interview you can find here discussing his feelings on privacy for context:

This was from 2012, so you can imagine how he feels about it now. You can probably understand why he doesn’t post often or only puts his content up for a limited amount of time. You can probably understand why he snapped at fans digging into his personal life a few years back, deleting everything he ever posted online. We’re not entitled to know everything about him.

Using his personal nickname for fictional content is blurring the lines between the fictional and Per Eriksson’s personal life. There are aspects of the “character” he plays on stage that can be inspired by him, but there are other things about him that are very personal or they’re unique to him. Maybe he cares. Maybe he doesn’t. I can’t speak for him, but I do think it’s important to draw a line.

I’m not trying to lecture or shame anyone specifically. I just want to remind everyone that Dewdrop is fictional, but Sodo is not. Dewdrop may be portrayed by Per Eriksson, but Sodo is Per Eriksson. Using his personal nickname for fanworks would be just the same as calling Swiss Ghoul, Jutty, which is Justin Taylor’s personal nickname. If that’s obviously crossing a line to you, then it shouldn’t be any different when it comes to using Sodo and Dewdrop interchangeably in fanworks.

#the band ghost #dewdrop ghoul #sodo ghoul #per eriksson #per sodo eriksson #unmasked ghouls #unmasked ghoul #text post

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Running from the Daylight (Part 2 Final)

Regulus Black AU

Request: @iluvthe-marauders HI LOVELYYY, HAVENT HAD TUMBLR IN AGESSSSS. Dont know if you remember but i was the one who asked for different harry potter characters and wanted to ask if you'd do a regulus oneshot. where y/n is a halfblood (Remus’ sister) and they run away together?

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: T

Link to Part 1

______

Remus and Sirius arrived back home after midnight to a quiet house. Sirius stood tapping his foot as Remus unlocked the door.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get me cotton candy.”

Remus rolled his eyes before opening the door.

“I can not help that the theater’s cotton candy machine was down. I promise we will go back next week and get you some.”

Sirius scoffed.

“I’ll take Y/n to a movie. She will get cotton candy too.”

Remus chuckled. He made a mental note to tell you that you needed to tell Sirius no more often. You treated him like some kind of pet, making Remus’ life difficult.

“You can be really annoying sometimes. You are aware of that, right?”

Remus said over his shoulder as he tossed his coat on the couch. Sirius was chuckling to himself as he moved to go get a beer out of the refrigerator.

“Yeah, but you love me so there.”

Remus smirked while shaking his head. He was not about to feed into Sirius’ foolishness (no matter how right he was on the subject). A small envelope on the coffee table caught Remus’ attention. It had both his and Sirius’ names on the front.

Frowning, Remus walked over and picked the envelope up. Right away, Remus noticed your handwriting.

“Is she leaving us love notes again?”

Sirius asked, coming back into the room while shoving popcorn into his mouth. Remus rolled his eyes.

“She’s probably begging me to marry you so you don’t go get lost some place.”

Sirius gave Remus a cold glare as his lover tore open the envelope.

“To Sirius and Remus, By the time the two of you read this, I will be out of contact. There have been many things that I have been hiding and it is time that the both of you know. I have been dating Regulus for a while. We are running away together. This is the only way that we can be together and no one have a problem with it. Remus, I know you of all people won’t be happy. You are my big brother and I love you but you need to let me make my own decisions. If I was honest and told you that I was dating Regulus, you would have flipped. Please know that I am not doing this to hurt you. I hope, in time, we can meet again and put this behind us. I beg you to take care of yourself and I love you. Sirius, I want you to know that you were right about Regulus. There is more to him than some cold member of the Black family. He isn’t a death eater and no longer “drinks the family koolaid.” He and I….we are what each other needs. Regulus is still your brother and he loves you. I hope to see the two of you sooner rather than later. I’m sorry but I have to go.

Love, Y/n.”

Remus stared at the letter with his mouth open. Sirius shoved a few more mouthfuls of popcorn in his mouth before realizing that Remus had gone dead silent.

“Moony, what…”

“Y/n ran off with Regulus!”

Sirius stood motionless. He tilted his head as if he was trying to process what his lover actually said. Did Sirius hear Remus right? You ran off with Regulus? Why would you run off with Regulus? Did you even know Regulus? Sirius had never witnessed the two of you speak to each other.

“Regulus? Like my brother Regulus?”

Remus ran a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to start jumping up and down.

“How many other guys named Regulus do you know?”

Sirius held his hands up defensively.

“Just my brother. Why would Y/n run off with Regulus? Do they even know each other apart from us?”

Remus handed Sirius the letter. Sirius frowned as he read the letter, his eyes widening with each word. While he wanted to panic that you jumped ship with his little brother in the middle of the war…he couldn’t. Sirius read your words to him about “being right about Regulus.” Regulus wasn’t a bad guy.

“Regulus is still my little brother, after all.”

Sirius smiled at the thought. His little brother…the real Regulus…the boy Sirius adored so much was still in there. Sirius also smiled at the thought of you being the one who gave him this information. You would be good for Regulus just as Remus was good for him. Sirius could live with that.

“Sirius, say something.”

Remus ordered, feeling on edge. He didn’t know what he was going to do but he needed to do something. Remus was nearly ready to go run about the neighborhood looking for you. Sirius took a breath before speaking.

“Remus, I need you to breathe, mate. Look, I didn’t know about this either. I have my concerns but…they are like us. Maybe Y/n is good for Reg. Let’s give them a chance. Let them come to us.”

Remus paced around quietly for a moment.

“She’s my sister, Sirius.”

Sirius nodded before moving to put a hand on the small of Remus’ back.

“She will always be your sister but for right now Y/n is what Regulus needs. Trust me.”

(two weeks later)

The sound of a tea kettle whistling woke you up from a sound sleep. Yawning, you reached over to Regulus’ side of the bed. His pillow was cold indicating that he had been up for some time. You stretched with a smile before slowly getting out of bed and looking out the window.

You would never get tired of the sight in front of you. Everything was peaceful. Waking up in a quaint little cottage with a field of wildflowers near a lake was your own personal heaven. From the moment that you arrived at the cottage life changed completely. You had gone from being stuck in the middle of a war with no idea how the future would play out to pure blissful peace.

The sound of a small bang in the kitchen tore you from your thoughts. Regulus muttering “son of a bitch” made you smile.

Regulus

That was another thing that you couldn’t help but smile about. In the course of two weeks, you had seen Regulus make a complete change. Now he was no longer the brooding moody young man who always looked mad at the world. He smiled more than you had ever seen him smile before. You noticed how much Regulus being happy reminded you of Sirius. Happy was exactly how you loved seeing Regulus.

Your mind went back to the morning that you arrived at the cottage…

“This place hasn’t changed since I was a child.”

Regulus commented as he sat his bag down. You were looking around the cottage with a pleased little smile on your face.

“It's lovely. I can see why your uncle bought that place.”

Regulus nodded as he started looking through the cabinets.

“As much as Alphard loved our family, he loved being in peace that much more. He saw the cracks and crazy in the Black family. Thank Merlin he saw a way out and away from it all.”

You turned to face Regulus as he took off his suit jacket and started rolling his sleeves up.

“Now we can have our peace.”

You replied as Regulus’ grey eyes rolled up your face.

“Yes, we can. We can have our happily ever after without this stupid war or whatever garbage is going on back in reality land. Maybe in time, Remus won’t hate me for conning you into running away with me.”

You moved to wrap your arms around Regulus’ neck.

“You didn’t do any conning. I wanted to leave as much as you did. I’m not brave like my brother and friends. I don’t want to be involved in some war where people I love on both sides die.”

Regulus frowned before wrapping an around your waist.

“You are braver than you know. You left everything behind for some boy who never deserved a moment of your grace and love.”

“The boy who deserved all of the grace and love.”

You countered with a smile. Regulus leaned his forehead against yours. He didn’t know that you saw the happy smile on his face…but you did.

“Well..if you say so. You know, we’ve never had the opportunity to dance together.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle as Regulus slowly began to move with you in his arms.

“We’ve never had the opportunity.”

Regulus nodded.

“Now we do. Every day…anytime that you want.”

The bedroom door opening pulled you from your thoughts. Regulus stepped in with a small smile on his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t wake you…did I?”

You shook your head before moving to snuggle back into your boyfriend’s waiting arms.

“No…I heard you fighting with the stove.”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“That damned thing is a menace. We might have to invest in a new one before I catch that one on fire. I see why Kreacher hated our stove at Grimmauld Place now.”

Regulus didn’t have to say it for you to know that he missed Kreacher. That was the only part of his family that he missed.

“We can get a new one whenever you want or you can let me do the cooking. I admire you for trying but I was born to cook on shitty stoves.”

Regulus rolled his eyes before looking back at the bed.

“You haven’t made the bed yet.”

You nodded.

“I just got out of it.”

Regulus reached out to gently push the strap of your nightgown off of your shoulder.

“We can mess it up a little more before you make it up…for the day.”

Wrapping your arm around his shoulders, you stood on your tiptoes kissing Regulus slowly.

“I love that idea.”

Right as things were starting to get heated there was a loud knock at the door. Regulus pulled away as you reached for your silk robe.

“Who the hell is that? We don’t have friends. That is the problem with visitors. They always come visiting.”

You grabbed your wand and followed Regulus down the stairs. Part of you was wondering if it was the friendly widow who lived down the road a bit. The other part worried that it was some member of the Black family to attempt to drag Regulus home.

“Do you have your wand?”

Regulus whispered.

“Armed and ready to go.”

You replied as Regulus moved to the front door. He was ready to hex whoever the hell it was to kingdom come and back.

The moment that he opened it, Regulus was shocked to see Sirius on the other side. Sirius stood holding what looked like a geranium in a tacky ceramic pot while Remus stood behind him looking super uncomfortable.

Regulus tilted his head to the side while you came to join him at the door. You were clearly as surprised as Regulus was.

“Hello?”

Regulus managed to get out while Sirius smiled.

“Hello, happy couple…I brought you a plant.”

Sirius held out the geranium to his younger brother with a grin. Regulus slowly took the flower with an uncomfortable expression.

“Um, thanks. How did you two find us?”

Sirius glanced over his shoulder praying that Remus had listened to that whole “be nice and don’t strangle him” talk.

“Can we come in?”

You moved aside as did Regulus. Sirius and Remus walked in closing the door behind them.

“Did you two steal this from the old woman down the street? I saw her potting this plant last week.”

Regulus commented before sitting the geranium down. Sirius shrugged.

“She won’t miss it. So….here we are and here you are.”

Regulus nodded, sitting down.

“Yes. Here we are. Again, how did you find us?”

Sirius grinned.

“Uncle Alphard told me after I wrote him.”

“How long?”

Remus finally commented. Both Regulus and yourself turned to face your older brother. You could see the unease in Remus’ eyes. How he was remaining calm was a mystery.

You placed a hand on Regulus’ shoulder before speaking to Remus directly.

“Two years.”

“Two years!!?? The two of you have been dating for two years and no one said a word. Y/n, this is big. You could have married this man by now…wait, you two aren’t married are you?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow before holding up your hand that had a diamond ring on it.

“Not yet but we will be. This is exactly why we didn’t tell you, Lupin. You are spazzing out and acting ridiculous. Family reactions are the reason why we didn’t say anything. My family would never accept Y/n and would potentially hurt her. You are…well…you are acting as I expected.”

Remus went instantly silent before muttering “fuck me” under his breath. He took a few deep breaths before speaking. Looking at your face, Remus stared at you hard for a few moments. No longer were you the little girl that chased after him always wanting to be part of her big brother’s activities. Now you were a grown woman with a life of her own…a grown woman who deserved to have the life that she wanted.

Regulus was busy watching Remus hoping the other man didn’t burst into a fit of tears. He was not ready to deal with that!

“I apologize…to both of you. You have to understand that is my only family left, Regulus. Outside of Sirius, Y/n has been my forever friend. It hurts knowing that both of you felt this was the only option…but I understand. I was wrong to judge your happiness. Y/n, is this what you want?”

You squeezed Regulus’ shoulder.

“It is, Remus. I love Regulus very much. He’s very good to me and I’m happy. I know you are worried but I want you to be happy for me. I found my person must like you found yours….your plant stealing person.”

Sirius giggled. Remus stared at Sirius before shaking his head.

“Yeah, my plant-stealing person. Fine, if you two are happy then I’m happy for you. Regulus, please take care of her.”

Regulus reached up to squeeze your hand that was resting on his shoulder.

“I would die for her.”

Sirius stood up clapping his hands together before going off in search of breakfast.

“Now that is out of the way…who is going to feed me breakfast? You two should have seen the mad dash we made to get here.”

_____

@geeksareunique @jessyballet @knreidy1 @justfinishthis @dumbbunnys-safes @mimisparkle12 @criminalyetminimal @teletubiswszpilkach @0xxeclipsexx0 @luclue @ad-astra-again @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @rubyroscoe1 @readtomeregulus @regulusblackswhorecrux @i-love-scott-mccall @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @s-we-e-t-t-ea @woohoney @abaker74 @regulus-black-223048 @saramaple @missgorldafirst @millies0bsimp @stelleduarte @siriuslyceleste @dumybitch @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @bennyberry @f4iryluvy @panpride @haroldpotterson @mentally-unstable-hoe @goldensunshineshit @padf00ts-l0ver @marichromatic @ravenhood2792 @playmore-zeppelin @ell0ra-br3kk3r @authoressskr @emiwrites3reads @rogue-nyx88 @coffeeaddictednymph @knight-of-gleefulness @shaylybaby2032 @livshifts

#Regulus Black #Regulus Black x Reader #Reader x Regulus Black #Regulus Black au #Regulus Black imagine #timothee chalamet as regulus black #ben barnes as sirius black #andrew garfield as remus lupin #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #wolfstar #regulus x reader #reader x regulus #regulus black series #the ancient and most noble house of black #regulus arcturus black #sirius orion black #walburga black #orion black #alphard black #hp #hp marauders #marauders au #harry potter marauders #marauders post hogwarts #HP AU story #Regulus Black AU #Running from the Daylight #Running from the Daylight part two

[juuuulez]

📰 | part three: capulet.

info: Saviour!Reader x Carl Grimes, no pronouns used in this particular issue, no use of (y/n), enemies to lovers, violence, slight graphic description of blood.

summary: You return to Alexandria solo for some supplies, but Rick decides to protest. After a minor altercation, you make things even with Carl.

previous | next

Another part!! This one includes a little bit of violence, but nothing uncommon to TWD universe. Next chapter will be similar, it finally getting a bit more exciting.

Roughly a week later, and you’re back.

The metal gates open with a loud screech, you hold yourself with poise facing the citizens of Alexandria, metal bat swinging gently at your side.

Word spreads quickly, and as you’re speaking with the man appointed with keeping guard, a small crowd begins to form. Everybody appears to be slightly on edge, especially after last weeks debacle where their guns were confiscated.

Eventually, Rick approaches, squinting to combat the midday sun.

“Where’s Negan?” He asks, holding a hand up to his eyes. A little behind him is Carl and Michonne.

You look behind you, over your shoulder, then back at the older man. “Not here, obviously.”

It’s snarky, immature, but tone that suits you best.

Fact is, you’d come here alone. No Negan, no Simon, no Dwight. It was a solo mission. However, ‘mission’ was a bit of an overstatement, seeing as you simply needed a few medical supplies in particular you were unable to get from the Hilltop. Antihistamines, to be exact. Not that big of a deal.

“I’m sure one of your little goons can show me to your medical facilities,” You say, giving a half-hearted gesture towards the small crowd of people watching. “Got some shit to grab.”

But Rick only shakes his head, “I don’t answer to you. We don’t answer to you.”

It makes you furrow your brows, slowly approaching, alike to a predator stalking it’s prey. Anybody at the Sanctuary knew that talking back wasn’t an option, and you were more than happy to teach these people a lesson.

“Oh, but you do,” You lean in as you speak, using body language to intimidate despite your visibly small presence, “See, you answer to Negan. Then there’s me, and then there’s the rest of the Saviours. You, your people, are at the very bottom of this food-chain.”

Rick doesn’t let up, tilting his head ever so slightly with your speech, challenging your authority in a way that didn’t happen very often anymore. “I don’t think so. No Negan, no supplies. That was the deal.”

Then he begins to walk away, causing you to rush a few steps forward to close the gap. “Hey, asshole!” You shout at him, blocking the path, “That’s not your choice to make. I’m giving you instructions, so you listen. You got a problem with that?”

The open defiance is causing you to loose your temper, more so when Rick only takes a step closer to you, looking down as if you were nothing; insignificant. Barely a leader.

“Y’know, an inability to follow basic goddamn instructions is what got your friend killed,” And there you go, running your mouth. But it works, you can feel the power beginning to slip back into your hands. “So you can either ignore me, and learn that lesson again, or do as you’re told so that their worthless lives didn’t completely achieve nothi—“

You don’t get to finish, as before you know it, you’re on the ground. There’s a stinging pain in your cheek, and you gag around a mouthful of spit, mucus and blood. It lands on the concrete with a wet smack, a tiny white pearl sitting amongst the maroon slime.

It’s a little jarring, to be honest. Rick looks surprised, himself, like he hadn’t intended to lash out. To punch a Saviour. Then Michonne is talking to him, but you aren’t listening, too focused on the fact that oh my god, he punched you.

When Michonne takes a step forward, you actually flinch, steeling your heels against the floor (when had you stood up again) and preparing for altercation. But she doesn’t move any closer, and you’re mentally scrambling to piece together this situation, to retrieve the power you’d just lost.

You clench your jaw, speaking with an unusual amount of composure for someone dripping blood from their teeth. “Now, I’ll be taking what I came here for.”

A few steps down the road, and you get an idea, gesturing off towards Carl, who stands there shocked at everything that’s just occurred. “And I’ll be taking the boy.”

Michonne steps forward to protest, “No, I can go. Please, just leave him—“

“Don’t care!” You shout, not even bothering to look backwards as you disembark down the streets of Alexandria, in the vague direction of where you presume their medical facilities to be. Much to your pleasure, there’s the telltale sound of footsteps behind you: Carl following.

Eventually, you make it to the small building, what seems to be a house transformed into a makeshift doctors quarters. It’s pristine, white-picket fence matches that of the neighbourhood.

You let yourself in, Carl following behind you. The first order of business: clean your face. There’s a slight throbbing feeling where the tooth had become dislodged, blood sticking around the edges of your cheeks and pooling underneath your tongue.

There’s a small sink where you lean over, spitting the liquid into it, splattering all over the porcelain bowl.

“Will you tell Negan?” Carl suddenly speaks up, from the other side of the room. So far, you hadn’t heard anything from him, and couldn’t particularly judge his reaction to that event. But he doesn’t sound angry, if anything a little subdued, nervous.

You choose to ignore him, already moving across the room, throwing open cabinets, “You ever get hay fever?”

If you were looking, you’d see the annoyance that crossed Carl’s face at being brushed off like this, but he answers nonetheless, “No.”

Clicking your tongue, you continue the search, flipping bottles and packets of different medications, trying to seek out something familiar. His lacklustre reply fades into background noise.

Eventually you figure out that there’s some sort of system, alphabetical, which aids in the mission of locating the antihistamines. You grab a few packets, stuffing them into the little cross-body bag you’d brought along. This should work perfectly.

“This place is stocked to the teeth,” You comment, closing the cabinet and instead scouring the rest of the room, “Raid a pharmacy or something?”

This casual conversation feels out of place, putting Carl on edge. He can’t understand how you work, how you think. What exactly is wrong with you. Why aren’t you angry? Yelling at him, or frustrated with what just happened. He just presumed everything you say has an ulterior motive.

“Uh.. yeah, a while back.” He answers with a shrug, deciding to be honest, but vague. That, and he didn’t particularly want to think about that, as it had lead to the death of one of their people. All this medical equipment, with no doctor to administer it.

But you don’t respond, despite being the one to ask the question. It’s becoming evident that you don’t necessary know how to carry a conversation like this. You will speak whatever’s on your mind, express the thought, and then be done with it. Move onto the next thing. Getting any sort of information out of you will be difficult.

It’s lucky that Carl was determined.

“Are you going to tell Negan?” He asks again, still standing on the opposite side of the room, “About what my dad did?”

This time, you give some semblance of recognition, in the form of a vague shrug. Now, you’re standing in front of that basin again, mouth open and staring into a mirror to try and find which tooth had been chipped. Feels like one near the back.

For some reason, Carl takes your silence as permission to speak.

“He shouldn’t of done that,” He continues, looking out the window facing the street, “Sometimes… he just doesn’t think, and makes stupid choices. It must be tunnel vision or something.”

Finally, you turn to Carl, blood still smeared on your fingers and bottom lip from where you’d been prodding around at your mouth.

“What happens when people have braces, now?” You ask, completely off topic, “There are barely any doctors, let alone dentists. Can you even get braces off by yourself?”

Carl feels completely confused, unable to follow this strange string of ideas and questions. He’s unsure if he should be preparing for backlash from Negan, or you, and this isn’t doing anything to help.

“Are you concussed, or something?” He finally asks, the tiniest bit of frustration and annoyance dripping into his tone, making the question sound less genuine and more sarcastic.

This is something you could work with. A tone you were familiar with, an emotion you knew how to handle.

“No, asshole. It was a basic question, why can’t you understand?” You spit, eyes narrowing at Carl, a complete 180 from your previously nonchalant behaviour, “You may actually be stupider than you look.”

This works to rile Carl up, becoming irritated with this entire situation, “Why did you even bring me here? It’s not like you actually needed my help.”

You roll your eyes, washing the blood and spit from your hands. “I just wanted to scare Rick, that’s all. Make him think that maybe I’m torturing you, or something.”

“So, you are angry with him?” Carl asks, feeling like he was finally getting somewhere with this conversation. But you don’t answer, now focused on cleaning the blood from where the skin of your cheek had split, a place that would likely start bruising within a few minuets.

Carl wasn’t an idiot. He remembered earlier, when Negan had attempted to get Rick to cut his hand off, as a show of submission. He knew what would happen, he wasn’t stupid. The only way to control Rick was through him, his son. If Negan found out about this, he’d be the one to get hurt.

He was a little bit scared.

Then, you’re actually looking at Carl. Well, through the mirror, watching as he stands a few feet behind you, leaning against the wall. But it’s the first time you’ve really looked at him this whole time.

“Rick ever hit you?” You’re asking him, and Carl is shocked by the moment of civility. That critical, observational look in your gaze, like you’re actively trying to decipher any reaction.

“No, no,” Carl answers quickly, not wanting you to get the wrong idea, “No, my dad… he’d never do anything to hurt me. He’s not that type of person.”

You seem satisfied enough with this answer, pursing your lips and applying a band-aid over the little scrape. Though you say nothing, Carl accepts this as a rare moment of genuine concern for a peer. If he’d even consider you a peer… technically you held a lot more power than he did, which is maybe why the idea of you looking out for him was surprisingly comfortable.

After drying off your hands, you finally spin around to face Carl, leaning back on the porcelain basin.

“I’m not telling Negan that Rick punched me.” You say, both face and tone unfeeling, not giving away any sort of emotion or indication to what you’re truely thinking.

Then you approach Carl, and despite the unheated conversation, it’s the way you usually move. Slow, stalking. “However, I’ve gotta tell him something. So.. he can think that you punched me.”

Carl feels his throat tighten, shocked at the decision you’d somehow come to. “How is that any better?” He asks, trying not to flinch away as you come closer, your feet now almost touching.

“Negan won’t punish a kid for.. well, being a kid,” You reason with a shrug, “But he will punish Rick for acting like a child. And we both know exactly what he would do.”

It doesn’t take a genius to understand the insinuation. You are just as aware that Negan views Carl as a pawn, something used to control Rick and keep him in line. Whatever Rick does wrong, Carl would have to face the brunt of the punishment.

But before he can speak, you’re talking again.

“To make this believable, I will have to hit you.”

“What?” Carl does flinch back at this point, eyeing you like you’ve suddenly grown a second head.

“Okay, listen,” You interject, not wanting him to immediately clam up and scurry away, “Nobody would believe that I didn’t land anything on you. Especially if you knocked one of my teeth out. So, work with me here.”

It sounds absolutely insane. But, at the same time… it sounds pretty reasonable. It could be much worse, Carl decides, if the whole cutting off his arm thing was anything to go by.

So, he agrees.

“Fine.”

A grin spreads on your face, taking a small step backwards. You shift your stance slightly, preparing to make your mark on the boy. And, deep down, maybe you take a little satisfaction in being able to do this.

“Palm or fist?” You have the decency of asking him.

“Palm.” Carl answer’s immediately.

So, you do just that. It’s one swift slap across his cheekbone, the one not hidden by the bandage. It echoes through the empty room, leaving a stinging sensation on your open palm, and likely a worse one on his face.

“Jesus Christ,” He swears, holding a hand up to his cheek, cradling the red mark you’d just placed there, “That felt worse than a punch.”

You give him a firm pat on the shoulder, “You’ll be fine. It’s good to learn how to take a firm slap from a girl, you should get used to it.”

And with that, you’re collecting your bag once more, content with the fruits of your little mission. Carl is almost shocked at how easily you move on, and he’s sure that there is something deeper to your strange behaviour.

Not that it matters right now.

He hangs back a little, watching you leave the building before searching for an ice pack for his sore face.

Despite the fact that you’d hit him, Carl can’t help but feel a little better about the whole situation. In the end, you’d only done it to evade any sort of larger punishment. To avoid getting Carl seriously hurt. Which felt good to know, that you were capable of some form of rational thinking.

Hopefully next time he could continue to decipher whatever was going on in your head.

a/n: LOL this took me a few days! i hope you like it, i’m definitely happy that things are getting a little more interesting now. let me know what you think!!!

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x you #carl grimes x you #twd x reader #twd x you #rick grimes

[diomaster69]

Jotaro Kujo (Part 3) x Reader

Dating Jotaro Kujo would include:

- Boy I don’t even know how the hell you got him to fall for you. You probably didn’t bother him like his fangirls and just talked to him like a normal human being. I feel that’s all he wants

- It might take him a while to actually start liking you, he’ll slowly start falling though as he realizes you’re a pretty cool and chill person

- Chillin with him while he smokes whether you join him or not

- If you don’t like the smell of smoke (like me and my lungs fr) then he won’t smoke in front of you, though that doesn’t mean he might have the scent of cigarettes on him

- We established he’s a tsundere, he loves you a lot just doesn’t know how to show it straight up, especially in the beginning

- If you ask him out he’d accept, probably acting like he doesn’t care and pulls his hat down to hide his face and smile

- If he asks you out he’d keep it very straightforward, short, and simple. It’s just “Let’s go on a date.” And you BETTER accept, do not break this big guy’s heart :(

- The first date would also be simple, maybe a small picnic in the park or going out for food

- I feel a lot of the dates wouldn’t include a ton of talking, and if there is talking then you’d be doing a good amount of it. Jotaro comes off as the type of guy who enjoys just being in your presence

- So basically his love language is quality time

- He’ll give you small gifts like seashells and jewelry or have Star Platinum get things for you if you wanted

- As your relationship progresses his gifts will get bigger. Such as giant ocean animal plushies

- More dates like going to an arcade so he can win you prizes effortlessly and impress you

- There will be aquarium dates, might be the place where you first kiss. Picture it, standing under a tunnel of fish swimming all around you and he pulls you in for a kiss

- Will beat people up for you, no questions asked

- You got a girl from school picking on you? Don’t worry, his fists are rated E for everyone. Equal rights equal fights

- Will not let his fan girls bother you, like they will never even get close to you (don’t ask how)

- Listening to music together whether it’s blasting in his room, on the car while you guys watch the stars, or sharing ear buds

- Even though he holds up his bad boy personality around everyone including his mom, he has his moments where he just melts with you

- Please hold his face once in a while, he’ll love it

- Very minimal PDA, closest you get is you and him wrapping your pinky fingers (if his giant hands let him)

- His mom would love you so much oh my god, sweetest woman alive

- She’d invite you to come over so often and loves that someone got Jotaro to settle down with

- Jotaro’s friends would be so surprised if they found out he was dating someone, Kakyoin wouldn’t be as surprised but Polnareff? Polnareff would be so lost as to how Jotaro got a girlfriend before him

- Forehead kisses, he has to bend down all the time to kiss yours

- Probably has back problems because of you

- Despite his fists being brutally scarred and coarse, he’s so gentle whenever he touches you in any way. I feel his hugs are the best and he’ll try to be careful when you hold hands

- Will carry you

- Let’s you wear his hats and clothes (but not for too long cause he wants them back)

- If you ever go on any transport, plane, boat, train, you name it, he will let you rest on him. Just don’t bring Joseph, it’ll give Jotaro PTSD

- Carefully caresses your face and admires every part of it, even plays with your hair

- If you can see Star Platinum he would love you so much, they say that Stands are a reflection of one’s soul. So basically Star will be very excited to be out and to see you

- Jotaro will smile with you a lot more than others

- He’s not the best at communication but once you get to know him it’s very easy to tell how he’s feeling

There’s probably more stuff but that’s all I got for this one. I am currently going through a JJBA brain rot please let me know if you have any requests!

#jjba #jjba part 3 #Jotaro #jotaro kujo #kujo jotaro #star platinum #stardust crusaders #jojo #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #jotaro x reader #x reader #jjba x reader