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punkshort · 5 months

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look what we've become - ch.3

Chapter Summary: Joel joins Tommy to meet the Fireflies and set up a trade agreement. They come back to Jackson with more than they expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, mentions of slavery

WC: 5.4K

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A/N: a reminder this story follows a slightly different timeline. Ellie was born pre-outbreak, but she was little when it happened.

Joel couldn't believe the past day and a half really happened. The rollercoaster of emotions you put him through left him stunned and shaken, wondering how he could read everything so fucking wrong. He found himself questioning everything now, replaying conversations, wondering if you had ever alluded to your feelings about marriage and a family that maybe he misread, misconstrued. Twisted and built up in his mind to fit into his stupid fantasy. One, he acknowledged, wasn't even in the forefront of his mind until his brother brought it back up to the surface. And suddenly, he wanted it, too. Like some resentful child who saw another playing with a toy he hadn't paid attention to in months, then demanded it for himself.

But he had thought about it, well before Tommy decided to man up first. He had the ring, but he never did anything with it. Why? Deep down, had he known you wouldn't want that? Was he subconsciously protecting himself by never acting on it? Or was he truly just waiting for the right time?

Even with Tommy's news, he still hadn't come up with a plan to actually ask you to marry him. He just allowed the fantasy to play out between your legs while he continued to make up excuses as to why he was holding off. Maybe it just turned him on to have a secret. Maybe he just wanted to have you, mark you, claim you. He knew he had a bad jealous streak, but would he have let his possessiveness lead him this far off track?

No. There were real reasons why he wanted you to be his wife. You made him want to be a better man. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. You brought out sides of him that others, including himself, never knew existed. Good things. You made him believe in happiness again, after his heart had been stomped on, making him treat everyone around him so poorly, even his own family. At a time when he felt so undeserving, you made him feel like the only person in the world. Even back then, he had a hard time believing you could actually care for him, but you saw through his bullshit to the man he was underneath, and you loved him for being him.

You had this way of looking at him like he was capable of anything. And with you by his side, he felt like he really was capable of anything. He did things he never thought possible to keep you both safe, as did you. You killed for each other. Not many people can say that. That meant something. The trauma and pain you both endured for one another had to mean something more. There was no doubt you both had proven what you were willing to do for the other, so it was only natural he wanted to commit himself to you. Say the words, vow to you in front of everyone you knew and loved that he would happily devote himself to you for the rest of his life.

So why didn't you want the same?

Ages ago, when the pair of you stumbled into the hellscape that was Kansas City, his ex, Amy, had mentioned offhandedly that you were only with him for protection. At the time, he shrugged it off, knowing full well it was bullshit just to get under his skin. But now, against his better judgement, he was rethinking those words. Rolling them around in his head, wondering if there was any truth to it.

"You been real quiet," Tommy said, pulling Joel out of his misery, surprised to suddenly find his brother next to him as they made their way on horseback down the mountains. Joel shrugged, averting his gaze ahead to the three other men leading the way.

"You mad at me for puttin' you on patrol yesterday? I'm sorry, Carl got sick and I didn't have anyone else," Tommy continued.

"Nah, it's not that," Joel replied, still staring straight ahead. "Didn't sleep well, is all."

"Ah," Tommy said, a playful smile pulling across his lips. "She send you off with somethin' to remember her by?"

Joel huffed and rolled his shoulders, his anger bubbling below the surface as he thought once again about the night before.

"Not exactly," Joel responded, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

Tommy hummed in response but remained quiet, trying to read his brother from the corner of his eye.

"Everythin' alright at home?" he asked, unknowingly hitting the nail on the head, causing Joel to clench the muscles in his stomach, like he was bracing for a punch to the gut.

"It's fine. What's the plan for when we get to this place?" Joel asked, quickly sidestepping the subject, something that was certainly not lost on his younger brother, but Tommy allowed for the change in conversation, anyway.

"We're gonna meet up with their leader, woman named Marlene. They're lookin' mostly for weapons, but they need other stuff, too. They got lots of medicine and first aid to swap. Bill's been runnin' real low on antibiotics, considerin' how fast the town is growin'," Tommy said with a sigh, readjusting in his saddle. "Girls sent me with a list of inventory, highlighted all the stuff we have a surplus of and all the stuff we could use more of. Remind me to thank her for helpin' when we get home," he said, keeping a close eye on Joel's reaction when he referred to you.

"Sure," was all Joel said in response, refusing to let him drudge up the topic. The wound was still too fresh, and he needed time. For the first time in a long time, he had no idea what was going through your head, and it scared the shit out of him.

Was it marriage and kids in general you didn't want, or was it marriage and kids with him?

He should have asked. He should have stayed instead of storming out that night. Instead, he let his emotions get the better of him and left you all alone, likely crying until you fell asleep if your swollen eyes the next morning was any indication. When he saw you, saw the distress etched in your perfect features, he wanted to pull you into his arms and never leave for this fucking trip. And he damn near did just that, until you confirmed it was a false alarm, and his heart was torn all over again. It was then he realized he had been hoping you were pregnant with his child, and there would be no choice but to face the next challenge together. Then he would be able to prove to you that it was a good thing, that you could, in fact, do it. And so could he.

Now, instead, he wasn't even sure where you two stood. You had said you still wanted him before he left, and that gave him hope. Hope that maybe not all was lost, that you could repair the damage that was done and come out stronger in the end for it. That maybe he could, in time, prove to you that he would be a good husband, a good father.

But then, Amy's words crept up in the back of his mind since he left. Somehow, years and years later, the woman still managed to torment him, making him believe he wasn't worthy or good enough to possibly have someone like you. The same way she manipulated him into thinking he deserved to be betrayed by her when they were engaged, that he didn't give enough of himself, that she warned him she needed more and he refused.

He shouldn't have gone on this trip.

"Alright, we're losin' daylight, let's set up camp and get an early start tomorrow," Tommy announced, much to Joel's relief. He didn't want to admit that, just a mere few weeks away from his fortieth birthday, his back and knees were aching like he was a much older man. He slid down from his saddle with an audible groan, then tied his reins around a tree trunk before giving his mare a few loving pats along the crooked white blaze that split her face.

He unbuckled his sleeping bag from the saddle and shouldered his backpack, dropping his belongings unceremoniously to the ground before he and Jake headed out with a couple hatchets to collect some firewood.

He didn't mind Jake so much anymore. He was quiet, kept to himself and, fortunately, didn't seem to harbor any resentment towards him from the time Joel put him in the infirmary for kissing you. His bad temper mixed with his jealousy nearly killed the man.

Afterwards, he thought he lost you.

You left him, asking for time to process what happened, upset that he didn't take your word for it when you promised him the kiss was a misunderstanding, that you handled it. You viewed it as distrust, he viewed it as protection. It wasn't until later that he realized he was harboring his own trauma from failing to protect you from a past sexual assault.

As he carried an armful of firewood back, he reflected on everything you had been through together. The outbreak, your parents, the time you were stabbed, the assault, the breakup, the accident that nearly killed him. Not to mention all the infected and raiders that threatened you both at every turn. Was your relationship strong enough to endure one more massive hurdle?

They were deep in the woods, the terrain favorable. The trees hid the fire well, and the vast, empty land kept infected away. Still, each man took a quick turn overnight to keep watch. It hardly mattered when Eugene gently shook his shoulder, alerting him it was his turn to watch. He can never sleep well when he's away from you, anyway.

Joel was almost grateful when they reached the hospital late in the afternoon the next day. It was the first time in two days he was able to stop thinking about you, his mind swirling with images of your trembling lip and your tear stained cheeks. He frequently wondered what you were doing, if you told Maria or Carrie about your argument. Were you packing up your things? Would he come home to an empty house? He wasn't sure his heart could handle it again.

You said you still wanted him.

You said you loved him.

But he didn't say those things back, and he left.

Even if you were fighting, even if it was the most significant disagreement you've ever had, he still wanted you near. He could never silence that driving force inside him since the outbreak that screamed keep her safe.

When they approached the hospital, they were all searched, weapons confiscated, as expected, before being ushered inside to meet the leader of the strange group called the Fireflies.

Marlene was a taller woman, with a firm jaw and eyes that could look right through you. He could tell right away she was not to be trifled with, that she took her role seriously in this little revolution she was spearheading. Although the people they had met since arriving seemed very intense, he didn't feel threatened. And he usually had a good instinct for those things. Usually.

They were in the hospital cafeteria, the five men, Marlene, plus a few others seated around a large, circular table as Tommy and Marlene exchanged pleasantries, both parties trying to make the other more comfortable. Joel hadn't really been listening. He was scanning the room, watching the guards pace by the doors regularly, the sentries standing watch with their hands resting on their rifles as they watched the exchange from a distance.

A small group of women entered from the door behind him, heading towards the kitchen to begin food preparations. Joel's eyes glanced over the group of four, three middle aged looking women who kept their eyes pinned to the ground, and a young girl with brown hair, tied back away from her face. She didn't look to be a day over thirteen, and she was the only one who looked around the room, her eyes locking with Joel's. He stared at her, his brow slightly furrowed as he tried to assess the situation. She continued to hold his gaze as she followed the other women, and although her body language gave nothing away, Joel felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something seemed off.

"Isn't that right, Joel?" Tommy was saying, snapping his attention away from the girl, who he saw in his peripheral disappear behind a door into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry?" he replied, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together on top of the table, trying to look focused.

"I was just sayin' how we know of a few police stations in some small towns that have barely been touched. Wouldn't be much effort for us to get a group together when we get home and go ransack 'em, take just a few days to hit 'em all," Tommy said, his eyes flicking from Joel to Marlene, then back again.

Another trip. More days away from you.

"Yeah," Joel replied, nodding his head and ignoring the pit in his stomach. "It's not enough for an army, but I reckon any little bit helps."

"In the meantime, lemme show you our inventory list. See if anything jumps out at you, and we can work on gettin' those guns," said Tommy as he pulled the list out of his coat pocket and smoothing it out on the table.

Marlene reviewed the list, her dark eyes flicking over the paper quickly with a few hums here and there as she took notes.

"Looks good, but we mostly need weapons," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I could probably do with some fresh vegetables, I think everyone's getting sick of the canned shit. And shampoo. But that hardly is a match for antibiotics." Her eyes shifted back and forth between Joel and Tommy, and the corner of her mouth turned up as an idea hit her.

"I do have another offer, though," she said, leaning forward. "It's not what we discussed, but if you're willing, I could send you home with half a box of penicillin now, and the other half after."

"After... what?" Tommy asked a little hesitantly.

"I'm lacking manpower at the moment. My guys are stretched thin, we're planning a hit on the soldiers at the Boise QZ. I need you to take someone to the hospital base we have in Salt Lake City. It should only take two days to get there, and I just need you to make sure she gets there alive," Marlene said, pressing her pointer finger into the table on the last word for emphasis.

Tommy glanced at the other four men, clearly not expecting to run errands for these people in exchange for medicine. Joel could see the wheels turning in his brother's head before Tommy spoke.

"Show me the meds first," he said to Marlene, and she quickly lifted two fingers up from the table, blindly addressing someone behind her to exit and do as he asked.

"What's the catch?" Joel asked, his defenses going up.

"No catch. Just need to get her out of here and with my other group, and I don't have the time to do it myself," she said with a shrug, but Joel knew better. She was trying to act casual, but he saw her knee bouncing under the table.

He shouldn't have come on his trip.

Once Tommy laid eyes on the unopened vials of medicine, medicine Jackson could really use since Bill, the town doctor, had been rationing enough as it is, Joel knew his decision was made.

"Done," Tommy said with a nod, extending his arm to shake Marlene's hand, which she eagerly reached out to do.

"Tommy," Joel said quietly, annoyed his brother didn't run the decision by the group first.

"Give me a little bit. I'll go talk to her so you can hit the road right away. John, please give these gentleman half the box of penicillin," Marlene said as she pushed her chair back, the legs making an awful screech against the dirty, linoleum floor. "Dinner is about to be served, please help yourselves as my guests," she added over her shoulder, leaving the dining hall.

"Tommy," Joel tried again, finally pulling his brother's attention. "A word?"

He led Tommy a ways away from the table so their conversation couldn't be overheard.

"What're you thinkin'?" Joel asked him, hands on his hips. "We don't do things like this."

"I know, Joel, but we're already out here, what's the harm? It's just a few more days," he said.

"I can't do a few more days, I need to get home," Joel replied, raking his fingers through his hair anxiously.

"I'll send Jesse and Jake back to let the girls know we'll be a little longer-"

"Goddamnit, Tommy, no!" Joel said, louder than he anticipated, a few heads from the table turning to glance his way.

"Jackson needs this medicine, what the hell's gotten into you?" Tommy asked with a frown, shifting his weight as he tried to read his brother's face.

Before he could reply, Marlene reentered the room alone, motioning for the two brothers to join her back at the table.

"Ellie's working in the kitchen, once dinner is over I'll send her to change and gather her things," Marlene said.

"Not a problem," said Tommy as he sat back down.

"Is that true?" Marlene asked, her lips pressed in a thin line as she held Joel's gaze, waiting for him to answer. He took a deep breath through his nose and crossed his arms.

"Yeah, not a problem," Joel replied bitterly.

Joel ate his meal quickly, desperate to finish this ridiculous task so he could get home. The longer he was away from you, the stronger his paranoia became. With each passing hour, he could almost feel the chasm between you growing, and he was beginning to convince himself there was no repairing the damage that was done. On both sides. Communication had never been his strong suit, but he thought he was getting better at it the past few years. Why did he go on this trip?

His eyes flicked up from his empty plate to see Marlene heading their way with the young girl he saw earlier in tow. His anger flared deep in his belly again, and he elbowed Tommy in the ribs to mutter angrily "she didn't mention it was a fuckin' kid" before Marlene could overhear.

"Ellie, these are the men I told you about. They're going to take you to Salt Lake City like we discussed," Marlene said, her hand resting on the girl's back. Joel eyed her carefully, noticing how tense her shoulders looked as she regarded the five men in front of her. His eyes drifted back to Marlene, wondering why on earth she was willing to leave this young girl with five strange men without a second thought. He decided she either was very desperate, or didn't care much for the girl.

Ellie readjusted her backpack on her shoulders and yanked on the edges of her long sleeved shirt, squaring her jaw as she stared them all down. Marlene crouched down to the girl's level and rested her hands on her shoulders.

"Remember what I told you. Listen to them, and everything will be fine," Marlene said, narrowing her eyes at Ellie. Ellie nodded, nostrils flaring before Marlene stood up to address Tommy.

"You need a map?"

"Nah, we got maps," Tommy said with a shake of his head. "This group know when we get there to give us the rest of the payment?"

"I'll radio the leader over there once you leave, let her know the deal," Marlene replied, stretching her arm out again to shake Tommy's hand.

"Alright, then," said Tommy, looking back down at Ellie and shooting her a small smile, trying to make her feel more comfortable. "You ready?"

"Yeah," she said, taking a deep breath and following Tommy out of the cafeteria.

They collected their weapons at the entrance before heading out, Ellie joining Tommy on the back of his horse. They didn't make it very far before the sun began to dip behind the trees and a quiet place was found to make camp for the night.

After getting a fire going, Tommy sat down in the dirt next to Joel, who had been leaning against a small oak tree, sipping from his flask and staring into the flames. The other three men were quietly playing a game of poker across from them, the occasional laugh or taunt floating in the air, while Ellie busied herself with a worn, paperback book further away from the rest.

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on yet?" Tommy asked, taking out his own flask.

"Nothin's goin' on," Joel replied gruffly, eyes trained on the fire.

"What's makin' you feel like you need to get home so bad?" he pressed. Joel felt that anger swelling inside him again, up his stomach and through his chest, and for a moment he wondered if Tommy knew. That maybe you told Maria and she let something slip.

"I told you, it's nothin'," he snarled, taking another sip from his flask and letting his eyes drift over to the girl. "Just wish I knew you were signin' me up to be a goddamn babysitter before comin' on this fuckin' trip."

"I can hear you, you know," Ellie said, her eyes never leaving the pages of her book.

"Good," Joel said, jutting his chin towards her, finally finding something to take his anger out on. "What's your deal, anyway?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said, sitting upright and letting her book fall to her lap, a flash of stubbornness not unlike his own reflecting in her eyes.

"Try me," Joel argued, his jaw clenching. Ellie glared at him, silence falling over the camp as everyone waited for her to speak. She opened her mouth, then thought better of it, clamping it shut and casting her eyes down. Joel scoffed, not ready to let the topic go just yet. Angry that this child was keeping him from home, from you. Angry that his brother agreed to it, like a fool.

"C'mon now, let's hear it. What makes you so fuckin' special?"

"Joel," Tommy said under his breath, a warning, reminding him to watch his language, that she was just a kid.

"Why should I bother? You're all the same, anyway! No one ever listens to me, 'cause I'm just some kid, right? No one-" she cut herself off, stopping herself before she said too much.

"Who's all the same?" Tommy asked gently, trying to coax the information out of her. She shrugged and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

"The people Marlene hires. Dragging me all over the country like I'm... whatever," she said, stopping herself yet again.

"So this ain't the first time Marlene sent you off with a bunch of strange men?" Joel asked, the edge still in his tone but he could feel his resolve softening, somehow feeling bad for this little girl despite his own problems.

"No," was all she offered, glaring at Joel again.

"Are you in some sort of trouble, kid?" Eugene's voice asked from across the fire. The silence that followed was deafening, only the crackle from the fire filling the air. Ellie's eyes shot over to Eugene, looking him up and down, trying to keep up her steely resolve before giving up and turning her back on the group, announcing she was going to bed, and burying herself in the sleeping bag that was way too big for her.

Joel stared at the back of her head, trying to connect the dots with the context he had available to him, but he couldn't figure it out. Tommy shifted next to him, clearly lost in his own thoughts, as well. Wondering for the first time if he had gotten them all in over their heads.

The following morning, Tommy sent Jake and Jesse back home to let everyone know they were going to be a few days late. The three remaining men and Ellie packed up their supplies early, hitting the trail as soon as possible, ready to make a dent in the long road ahead. Eugene led the way, followed by Tommy, then Joel brought up the rear, his eyes burning holes in the back of Ellie's head as she clung to Tommy's denim jacket to keep her balance on the back of his horse.

Joel chewed the inside of his cheek, still feeling bitter, about everything. You, Tommy, Ellie. All of it. Since he couldn't get to you, and Tommy already got him in too deep, he chose to direct his energy towards Ellie when they took a break midday.

"Marlene send you with any food, or are you takin' that from us, too?" Joel asked, sitting down on a fallen tree trunk with a groan.

"I have food. And what else could I have possibly taken from you?" Ellie replied curtly, sitting further down the log as she opened her pack to fish out some granola bars.

"Time," Joel snapped. "And we don't even know why we're doin' it."

"Isn't Marlene paying you guys?" she replied with a huff. Tommy's eyes toggled back and forth between Joel and Ellie, becoming exasperated with the constant bickering.

"Can you just drop it, Joel?" Tommy asked. "Who cares? It's an easy gig, and we get meds out of it."

"Oh, she's giving you meds? Wow, she must be really desperate," Ellie chimed in.

"Alright, I've had enough," Joel said, standing up to tower over the girl. "Spit it out. What're we doin' here?"

"Fine, Joel," she said, stretching out each syllable before standing up, fists clenched at her sides. The way she said his name set his teeth on edge. "You wanna know how you're helping slavers move cargo? That the answer you're looking for?"

The three men froze, clearly not expecting that. Tommy stood up now, his head swiveling between Eugene and Joel as he processed the information just dropped on them.

"Wait-" Tommy said, stretching his arm out to Ellie, but she cut him off.

"Yeah, that's right. You still think this is a pain for you?" she snapped, glaring at Joel even though Tommy was the one who spoke.

"Stop!" Joel shouted, holding his hands up in the air as silence fell over the camp. He pointed his finger to Ellie.

"You. Explain. Now."

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose as he silently listened to Ellie tell her story. Her parents were dead. She was taken from her aunt and uncle's house at a young age, forced into slavery for the past few years: laundry, cooking, cleaning. Sometimes for twelve hours a day. Said she's been with the Fireflies a long time, that they keep moving her from base to base but she claimed she didn't know why. Joel had to wonder how much of what she was saying was the truth. There was no doubt something was happening at that hospital, but slaves? Something just didn't add up.

When she finished her story, she nervously glanced around at the men, waiting for one of them to say something. Tommy sighed and motioned to the woods.

"We need to talk about this. Privately," Tommy said, narrowing his eyes at Ellie. "You stay here."

"Fine. Not like I can make it on my own out there, anyway," she said with a snort. She picked up a stick from the ground and began drawing into the loose dirt at her feet.

"We're takin' her back, givin' back the meds, and goin' home," Joel said the moment they were out of earshot. Tommy shook his head.

"Joel-"

"This is enough, Tommy! This ain't our business. Any other option here puts the whole town at risk, puts Maria at risk, puts-" he stopped himself, biting his tongue before saying your name. He hadn't thought about you for the past half hour. A new record.

Tommy wasn't an idiot. He knew something was going on, but he couldn't focus on it, having a much bigger problem to sort out.

"She's a kid. We can't take her back, and we can't take her to Salt Lake City. It ain't right," said Tommy gently, hoping he would make his brother see through whatever was plaguing his mind and look at the bigger picture. Joel frowned and glared at the grass below his boots, clenching and unclenching his jaw as his mind struggled to wrap itself around the situation.

"Eugene?" Tommy said, turning to raise his eyebrows at the older, and suspiciously quiet, man. Eugene sighed, dropping his shoulders like he was carrying an enormous weight.

"I agree with Tommy," he said, and Joel spun on his heel, angrily pacing a few feet away to take some deep breaths.

"So, what? We take her to Jackson? We don't show people where we live for a fuckin' reason," Joel reminded them, his back still turned on the two men.

"We take her back, just a bit, til we can find where her aunt and uncle were livin', and we'll take her back home," Tommy said, the gears in his head turning as he formulated the plan on the spot. "In the meantime, we tell the Fireflies she ran off in the middle of the night. Maybe if we can get those guns to 'em, we can still keep the antibiotics."

Joel scoffed and shook his head, turning around to glare at his younger brother.

"This is stupid and risky. Lyin' to those people don't seem like a good move to me."

"Yeah, well, it's the only move we got, Joel. Otherwise, we're just as bad as them," said Tommy, his eyes drifting through the trees to make sure Ellie was still perched on the log where they left her. "I won't ask you to help take her back to her family."

"Damn right, you won't," Joel muttered, rolling his shoulders angrily. He stared off in the direction of Ellie, his jaw ticking off to the side with his hands on his hips, lost in thought.

He shouldn't have gone on this trip.

"Alright, is it settled, then? Can we hit the road, go back home?" Eugene asked, clearly tired of the bickering. Joel glared at the other two men before stomping back over to Ellie, who stood when she heard the men approaching, eyes flicking to each of their faces. Joel brushed past her to scoop up his bag from the ground and jumped back up on his horse with a grunt. At least he won't have to be away from you any longer. Not that he was sure what to even say, he just knew he needed to see you.

"C'mon, kid. We're takin' you to our town," Tommy said, motioning for her to grab her things and follow him to his horse.

"Really?" she asked excitedly, a small smile playing on her face for the first time.

"'Til we can get you back to your family, yeah," he replied, holding an arm out to help her scramble up the back of his horse.

Joel remained quiet the next day and a half, inwardly brooding about the potential blowback from taking this kid, which then morphed into nerves when he realized he was a few hours away from seeing you again.

When they arrived through the gates of Jackson, he didn't watch Ellie's eyes light up when she first saw the town, the people, the animals, kids her age playing. Maybe if he wasn't so focused on searching for your face in the small crowd that welcomed them back, then he would have seen how happy Ellie was. How, for maybe the first time in years, she felt a spark of hope. Maybe if he wasn't so focused on the ache in his chest when he didn't see you, it wouldn't have come as a surprise when Ellie snuck off the first chance she got, bobbing and weaving down the busy street, eager to see what the town had to offer.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed

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suashii · 5 months

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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒞𝐿𝒪𝒰𝒟 𝟫

info ⭑ nagi seishiro x reader. 1.4k wc. sfw ﾉ fluff

nagi doesn’t think his apartment has been this clean since he first moved into it.

to be fair, it hasn’t ever been really messy—not by his standards, at least. just cluttered. the only person who ever visits consistently is reo and despite his thinly veiled complaints about the lack of tidiness, nagi feels no need to impress him. you, however, are a different story.

he thinks it might be a little bit rude and even more embarrassing if his home is in any sort of disarray the first time you get to see it. that’s why he set his alarm early and spent his entire morning cleaning; organized all the pairs of shoes he carelessly kicks off at the entryway, washed the dishes he had neglected last night, and folded and hung up all the clothes tossed on the unused lounge chair in the corner of his bedroom.

nagi’s lighting a candle when he hears your knocks and muffled sing-songy voice announcing your arrival. once he’s sure the wick is burning, he tosses the lighter onto the coffee table before scrambling towards the door. in his rush to let you in, nagi misses the little step that separates the small foyer from the rest of the apartment. his hands stick out to catch himself in just barely enough time and he curses under his breath at the blunder. after righting himself, he pulls open the door, revealing your figure on the other side.

you’re smiling, but it looks like you’re holding back a laugh.

“everything okay?” you ask as you survey him from head to toe. you could have sworn you heard something—or someone—hit the door only a second ago.

nagi nods, his snowy white bangs bouncing up and down with the gesture. he’s sure you can piece together what happened without his input and he’s not too keen on admitting that he tripped on the way here. instead, he turns his body to create some space for you, jerking his head in the direction of his living room. “come in.”

“you can put those on.” nagi points to a pair of new slippers that he bought just for you. he figures you should have your own since you’ll be around more often. well, he thinks you will—people who are dating hang out at each other’s houses, right?

you do as he says, trading your sneakers for the house shoes (that fit perfectly) while glancing around his apartment. it’s neat, neater than you expected. the scent of dish soap and lemon cleaner tips you off that he had cleaned before you arrived and his effort brings a smile to your face.

“so,” he twirls the fine hair at the nape of his neck around his finger, “i have mario kart if you want to play. and we can get takeout if you’re hungry.”

“sounds good,” you assure him, following the man to his living room. other than the pop of green from his cactus situated on the table beneath his television, everything from his furniture to the lack of décor is neutrally colored. that much doesn’t surprise you but you’re curious to see if his bedroom has more character.

in your search for his room, your eyes catch sight of a narrow staircase leading up to a lofted area. “is your bed up there?” you point at the landing.

pulling his gaze away from the handheld console in his hold, nagi’s dark eyes follow the path of your finger and he hums in confirmation. “you can check it out.”

you take him up on his offer and make your way up the steps. the space you find at the top is just as simple as that of his first floor but twice as cozy. there’s a hammock chair in the corner that slightly swings with the air of your arrival and at least three throw blankets in varying shades of gray strewn across his mattress. your foot gently taps the soccer ball resting on the light hardwood floor, sending it rolling toward the wall, as you approach his bed.

shedding yourself of your slippers, you flop onto the mattress with a soft thud. your body sinks into the cushion as though it’s a marshmallow—it certainly feels as soft and pillowy as one. you’re two seconds away from calling down to nagi to comment on how comfortable his bed is when you turn on your side to face the table settled beside said bed. the surface you’re met with is littered with taped-on photo strips dating back to when the two of you first started hanging out.

the series of pictures are arranged chronologically like he’s been adding them as they’ve been taken. and you can see that, with time, he grew more comfortable with the camera—with you. poses that were once awkward peace signs turned to tight-lipped smiles and eventually he even went as far as crouching down so you could hold your fingers above his head like cat ears.

in his bed, swathed by his familiar scent, nagi’s little gesture leaves your heart floating and fluttering in your chest. you have your own identical set of these photos at home pinned to the bulletin board that hangs above your desk, you look at them every day—yet there’s something different about seeing them stuck to the spot that nagi stares at before he closes his eyes to go to sleep.

“hey, the game is—” nagi cuts his sentence short upon seeing that you’ve found the souvenirs from your visits to photo booths across town. he wasn’t even thinking about them when he told you to help yourself to explore his room. your silence blankets him with a strange sense of unease. nagi knows the two of you haven’t been dating for very long but he hopes the display doesn’t make you uncomfortable.

at his voice, you sit up on your knees to meet nagi’s eye. his finger is nervously twirling at his hair again and the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks are flushed a rosy pink. despite his height, you’ve never seen him look smaller.

you figure he’s embarrassed about you stumbling across the pictures. the both of you are still settling into your new relationship status, clumsily fumbling with couple-like behavior and romantic actions. although, he has nothing to worry about. it’s cute—his growing collection of memories.

you jerk your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the prints with a small smile. “mine are hanging in my room, too.”

the tension in his shoulders practically melts away with your words and his feet no longer feel anchored to the floor. nagi joins you on his bed, the mattress dipping underneath his added weight. he leaves a safe amount of space between himself and you but he’s considerably more relaxed than he was a moment ago.

“look,” you start, pulling your phone out of your pocket. nagi’s newfound proximity and his exhibit of your shared photo excite you and make you want to share one of the many ways you are beginning to fall into the designated role of significant other. you tap the glass surface of the device which lights up with your action, revealing an image of the two of you that reo took. your arms are wrapped around his waist and one of his hands sits atop your head. neither of you is looking at the camera, your gazes are focused on each other instead. with a smile, you turn your phone to him, “we’re even on my lock screen.”

nagi silently stares at the captured moment displayed on your screen. the day wasn’t long ago and the memory of it is still fresh in his mind. it was the first time you referred to him as your boyfriend in the company of someone close to him. just looking at the photo makes his heart skip a beat like it did when he heard the foreign-sounding word spill from your lips. only when the screen returns to its sleeping state does he look up to you.

he’s never had a way with pretty words and even now he’s struggling to voice his feelings, so instead of saying something sweet and saccharine fitting for the occasion, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “wow, you’re mushy.”

“shut up,” you tell him through an unconcealed laugh. your thumb and index finger come together to flick the center of his forehead. the fluff of his hair lessens the impact but he still rubs the spot instinctively as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. you smile back at him before smoothing your hand over his head. “let’s go play.”

hihi~ sua here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock #nagi x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x you #bllk x you #blue lock x you #nagi drabble #bllk drabbles #blue lock drabbles #nagi fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff

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queen-of-deans-booty · 18 days

Text

Worth The Wait: Part One

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey so every one know that Jensen like Batman, so i have this ideas where the reader is Jensen wife and popular actress who is casted to play Cat woman with Robert Pattinson or other one and the reader never tell Jensen because she want to be a surprise or something like that and she bring him to the premiere where was the Batmobile and him was just fanboy? Fluffy between Jensen and reader

Summary: You've been working on a movie you know Jensen will love to see, so you've managed to keep it from him until the world premiere. Now it's your chance to unveil the surprise.

Square Filled: hereditary for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: we're all gonna pretend that the movie Batman v Superman had Catwoman in it. okay? okay.

This all started when your great-grandmother got scouted to be in short films in the early 1900s. Actresses weren't a big thing back then but someone took one look at her and knew she was meant to be on the big screen, whatever that meant back then. She was known all throughout the state as a big-time actress even though all the things she was in were silent films. She had a great facial profile that really embodied everything she was thinking and feeling. She started young but that’s what people did back then. They started their professions at a young age.

When your grandmother was born in 1934, your great-grandmother was already moving on to bigger and better things. She starred in the movie It Happened One Night, The Thin Man, and MGM’s musical/romance adaptation of Cat and the Fiddle. Those were just to name a few. Your grandmother saw what she was doing and wanted to follow in her footsteps, doing everything she could do be in television, the big screen, and in theater.

She got her big break when she got cast in Treasure Island and Fantasia with Disney. She got acting gig after acting gig until she had your mother in 1954. She took a few years off to be with her family but got right back into it. Your mother had a knack for theater and did her time on Broadway more than she did in film. She starred in musicals like Applause, Fiddler on the Roof, Annie, Sweeny Todd, and Grease.

She had you in 1989, and you started singing and acting at a very young age. You got into commercials and TV shows from the get-go. Probably because you come from a line of Tony, Oscar, and Emmy winners. You tried not to let your line of succession lead you to getting good parts, but you’ve managed to get a small role in Jurrasic Park as a child, and into much bigger roles in Charlie’s Angels, Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Saw I, Avatar, The Hunger Games, and many more.

You worked your ass off to be where you are today, and you’re actually working on putting your own album out because you’re striving to be the first EGOT winner in your family. You’ve gotten one Tony Award, too-many-to-count Oscars, and two Emmy awards.

To think you were the shy theater kid who only sang in front of people if you were starring in a play at school. After graduation, you got into a good acting school even though you didn’t really need it, but you still welcomed the challenge they put you through, even starring in most of the plays there. Now you’re a thirty-five-year-old woman with awards like no other, a husband who is just incredible, and an amazing career that is nowhere close to being done.

Your husband is also an actor, a big one for Supernatural. He’s been nothing short of amazing and you’re so proud of him and his work. It sucked at the beginning of his career since you two barely saw each other but the longer you did this, the more you settled into your own groove. You got to take the time off to be with each other a lot more.

You get to go to conventions with him and he gets to go to movie premieres with you. There is nothing you’d trade for this little life of yours. Speaking of movie premiers, you just got done filming your movie Batman vs Superman where you played Catwoman, but you refused to tell your husband anything about it. He is a big Batman fan, and if you were to surprise him with a Batman premier, he’d go feral. Jensen respected you enough to not go snooping when he knew you wanted this to be a surprise, and his friends respected you enough to not tell him about it.

Jenson has been bouncing in his seat since he entered the limo, and you’ve been watching with a wide smile on your face. When the limo gets to the red carpet, Jensen gasps at seeing everything Batman.

“Surprise! I’m Catwoman!”

“You got to be in a room with Batman?”

You two leave the Limo and smile at the cameras flashing in your face. Jensen doesn’t care if he looks like a little kid, he is going to be excited over anything Batman (even though you’re a tad more of a Marvel girl than DC). You’re trying to get in on one of their projects so fingers crossed! There is a section before the red carpet where people can take pictures with a real-life prop of the Batmobile.

Jensen loses his shit and rushes over with a giant smile on his face. You don’t care if a million people are watching or if it’s just you two, but you’ll always love the way he gets excited over things. He gets his picture taken with the Batmobile alone and then with you, and you pull him off to the side with a smile on your face.

“Is this a good surprise? Was it worth the wait?”

“So worth the wait. This is amazing.” Jensen leans in to kiss you but stops with a gasp. “Is that Michael Keaton?”

Jensen’s favorite Batman is Michael Keaton.

“Yeah, he showed up on set a few times. He’s a nice guy!”

“I’m nervous. Should I go up to him?”

“Yeah. He won’t bite,” you chuckle.

You escort Jensen over to Michael who is more than happy to talk to your husband. He hasn’t been this happy and excited in a while, and you’re glad to be part of it.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles fiction #jensen ackles fan fiction #jensen ackles fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn fluff

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aimzicr · 29 days

Text

Hunter The Parenting plot thoughts (because I love mysteries and roleplaying and I keep waking up at 2am Thinking About This Plot).

Things that seem important (in various nonspecific order, though somewhat from timeline of video):

Giles is a better fighter than his mates, actually showing some skill (compared to Simon's existence as a wet towel and Brok's brute force)

Harry's focus on Highland Legend seems a bit at odds with his muscles being 'just for lifting things', given the link in pop culture with Highlanders being warriors who fight to be the only one. Still, there's more to study beyond the Hollywood thoughts, and I'm very curious to see what Scottish myths get brought up (if any). He also has access to Storage and Security.

Followup thought: if all the characters are in the World of Darkness (specifically The Reckoning/Vigil), then perhaps each staff and student's respective areas of study reference specifically to one of the games. Fatigue with The Apocalypse/Forsaken, Elise with The Dreaming/Lost (Lost seeming more appropriate because 'I haven't found a single fairy'), and so on. Horse's prophecy referenced 'kine, kindred, garou, milklings, elohim', so that's Hunter, Vampire, Werewolf, Changeling and Demons specifically mentioned. Would Harry's 'highlander studies' be on Mages or Prometheans? Will we see Wraiths/Geists, now or in the future?

Elise does not have access to Storage and Security. Also, I will respect her pronouns at all costs.

The Doctor - Scholar of Psychotronic Studies - the has taken at least two bumps over the course of the night (visible residue on her face at Occam's collapse and just before Brok kicks the door down). You can't show any withdrawal symptoms if you're high on something else (though as Chapman mentioned, even high-level drugs 'don't even compare', but it might take the edge off for a while). Considering her academic focus, she might have been able to make herself a Very Powerful Cocaine. (Actually no 'psychotronic' refers to low-budget movies so WHAT??)

Lord Fatigue - of Lycantropy (not Lycanthropy? A typo, or something else?) - I saw someone posting about him being quickest to recognise the symptoms of someone going through a change, and I highly agree. He's also a lovely old man ('toffee pud', wreathed in golden light from the Archives, etc) so maybe he just doesn't want to see anyone suffer? Kindness often gets punished in WoD games.

Brok is sitting on a different chair. His mother's chair follows him everywhere he goes, does it?

I'm calling it, Chekov's M60s Mounted On A Bus. BUT. Not for this particular arc.

If there are keys to steal, in order to get into the Archives, they would be taken from Occam, Blacklaw, Dr Waters, or Lord Fatigue.

There are no other entryways to the Archives but there may be passages around, beneath, or above the Archives. Walls thin enough to use Vampire Magic through?

Giles knows that Spit is out of Ritalin, which serves as an explanation for Spit's symptoms and proof that the guys keep an eye out for each other.

Spit seems to be the biggest red herring. Something is very wrong with him but it isn't being Ghouled (and it isn't just something that can be managed with Ritalin). Still, when he gives his blood sample, he doesn't give two drops: he hides out of sight and only delivers a blood-smeared chalice. We don't see him giving blood, and the sample is darker than the rest. Older blood? Stored and poured?

It's Elise that pickpockets Giles of all his worldly possessions (while Spit is being consoled by Fatigue). She even takes one of the smokes for herself, having it in her mouth at the top of the stairs and then as she descends. So, then, she handed the smokes over to Olivia at some point. Maybe when Elise was 'looking for Grimal at the time'. A gift? A trade?

At some point after the 'I said FOLLOW MY LEAD' fight, Blacklaw and Brok work to get the Cold Tessellation out of the wall. Where the hell did D go (and why is it under the stairs, digging through old newpapers). How did he get out of that fight?

Grimal is in the Security Room, crying, when Occam is attacked. Could she have seen who attacked Occam, or did she miss it because of her tears? ('Noises of insecurity' in the Security room is pretty funny, I'm sorry.) HOWEVER. Grimal does NOT have access to Security, according to her chapter card... but Elise did steal Giles' keys, so perhaps Elise let Grimal into the Security room? Now the question is, was the door locked behind her? Did Elise leave other doors unlocked as well?

Spit says he knows where Giles' things are. How? A good nose for it? Or just an excuse to get out of the room (where a lot of dead animals are)? He then goes... downstairs, to the Music room. Lord Fatigue says he will go look for Spit, but goes upstairs to the Staff Break Room instead, diagonally above Occam. The minimap shows Spit stressed, Occam tense/in pain, and Fatigue with... the same facial expression. Is Giles doing something to the blood? Is Fatigue doing something to the blood? Is there some direct line of connection between the three? Is there really only one way into the Archives, or is there a way up from below, or down from above? The placement of Spit and Fatigue on the minimap feels incredibly important to figuring out who attacked Occam (even if that doesn't have anything to do with the ghoul).

Elise is in the middle of taking her ponytail out when Kitten returns from his pacing and fuming and brief stop in the kitchen. As a ponytail haver, the decision to NOT undo the hair after starting to do so is significant. But then again, maybe giving her a different animation model wasn't in the cards for the episode. (She's hot enough already idk).

There are large claw marks on a lot of walls and doors in the Chapter House…

There are 15 people in the Chapter House, but 16 cups are strewn about when Occam is found. All 16 cups are bloody. Someone else is present? Someone left an extra cup, some extra blood?

Kitten is focusing on 'who could have attacked Occam as we were leaving' but is that really the timing of the attack?

'Your papa could never take a punch like that' says the man who has been fighting Blacklaw all evening. Playfighting? They've been playfighting this whole time? Yet the man can handle a bottle being thrown at him by Marckus, so he at least has some grit.

"Look. It's the same. Indisputable." So if Blacklaw cannot tell the difference between 'a bleak British man and a middle-eastern meat-slab', either his eyesight is shitty and thus he cannot be trusted to give any trustworthy visual evidence, OR, he hasn't looked at D in actual decades because D is the Devil and must not be observed directly. Which is kinda countered by how often they face off and glare at each other, so.

Other things that might be of note and/or are things I noticed:

Amanda's blue gloves - does she have a latex allergy? Or does the Arcanum not provide boxes of disposable gloves for the staff and they have to just make do with one set each? As someone who worked back of house in hospitality, this seems... bad.

Both Blacklaw and D have yellow and black as a major colour to their outfits, but inverse to each other (jacket and tank top vs jacket and vest). IDK maybe that's something worth noting, or it shows how more alike than they like to admit.

Hardcore Kitten steadying inhale in front of the portrait of the dead knight made me think to how TTS ended... Then again, the man out here killed a vampire with a shove and an iron fence while being badly hurt so like. Man's badass enough on his own.

Git works with the Lady Regent's favourite daughter. Could Poly have slipped him something, made him a ghoul without his knowledge? Man can reverse-drink a beer but his favourite food being available at his place of work could lend itself to some Manager-induced tampering of the safety seals.

Kevin was invited to the 'funny phrenology library' but decided to stay in the basement. He might have recognised the ghoul right away. He also might have gotten D's family Blood Hunted AND targetted by the Coalition, if that were the case. For reasons of safety first, comedy second and plot third, Kevin stays at home.

Hey uh what's the Penis Explosion Room on the mini map and why is it Elite Access and also why is it there and why is there no doorway to it and also what

Harry being able to get dressed very quickly between listening in at the door and then D showing up with the keys. I know he doesn't really do Anime but I feel like that must have been a magical girl transformation somehow (/j)

Guy Chapman might be the most dangerous ghoul at the moment: 'sharpened senses, inhuman strength, even the power to bend minds' He did drink the blood of Kevin, a Vampire Wizard. I'm thinking about Marckus' night pubbing, and how Chapman heard the beginning of the vampire talk, as well as the fact that Brok's first and second knife broke dramatically. The cop did it, with his new vampire magic.

The portrait on the wall (when Elise is doing D's hair) - baby Occam is adorable, I'm sorry his mother is a Blacklaw but she seems far more hinged than Remold, is baby Brok okay, is Brok's mother the blonde woman from the interrogation room - if so who is the woman standing with Blacklaw? And the slacker behind her? A Blacklaw Family Drama photo, I'm very pleased.

'Amanda never sweats, she's lower class' I've never seen a Rich Bastard in media who thinks this, this is fascinating. Normally it's 'sweating is for the lower classes' but here we are in the reverse. Does Blacklaw think the 'lower class' are literal automatons or

Fatigue dies in the room where his younger Hunter self is immortalised in a portrait on the wall. Taller, younger, still with the same glasses, nose, and ears. Just how old is he?

Side note: 'did anyone find out if Mummies are real yet' - yes, Marckus, they did, in The Resurrection/Curse. You were right.

#hunter the parenting #hunter: the parenting #htp #h:tp #theorycrafting #theories #analysis #i miss roleplaying games so much I want to play in all of them

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junowritings · 1 month

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Gale with an artificer significant other who makes him magic items for him to absorb?

:0 I never considered this idea before but holy hells if that wouldn't be such a fascinating scenario. I'm not the most well versed on artificers so I had to do a lil reading and wing the rest but hopefully this is alright~!

=======

♡ An artificer partner who can create magic infused items for him? Hells you may as well be a knight in shining armor for Gale, showing up in his hour of need when circumstances were most dire.

♡ Before the abduction upon the nautiloid ship, Gale’s lack of orb-based implosions was credited only to the magical objects he had amassed over the years. And where his supply had begun to dwindle, Tara had been invaluable, retrieving magical objects and bringing them back to the tower to aid the wizard like the ruffled caretaker she always had been. It certainly wasn’t a pleasant existence, locked away constantly fighting to stem the tide of something he once hoped could earn him the forgiveness he craved. But it sated the orb, for a while; gave him the time that he desperately needed as he scoured every tome and followed every lead for answers in quelling the thing’s lethal nature away from any who could get caught up in the destruction, should his plans go awry.

♡ After the crash however? Gale has neither, and the orb within his chest burns at the knowledge, churning away with that incessant need to consume and nothing to fulfill it besides the few measly trinkets left on his person.

♡ Thankfully he has a saving grace, in the form of the very person that helped free him from that rune circle back at the beach. Even without your constant tinkering with magic infused items, you’ve got an uncanny knack for stumbling across things that are absolutely thrumming with powerful magic. Weapons, armor and trinkets that brim with enough power to keep the orb quiet for hours, days even if he’s fortunate.

♡ You make no fact to hide that you’re an artificer by trade and soon enough Gale learns that the items you’ve been giving him alongside the ones that you find are of your own making. You’ve got a way with magic, enough that the items you give him are enough to effectively sate the orb - did you learn this all yourself? Or were you so gifted that the art came naturally to you? Whatever the reason, the items that you create are invaluable to the wizard, one that you offer up freely before he even reveals the reason why he needs them in the first place.

♡ The time eventually comes where Gale can’t hide his affliction any longer, and finally opens up to you about the orb and its constant need for consuming potent magical items. He can see the cogs turning in your head already, piecing things togethers as you realize why he’s asked you for those magical items in the past. He apologizes for keeping that factor in the dark until he knew he could really trust you, hoping that his words will at least earn some modicum of forgiveness considering just how many items you’ve handed over.

♡ His apology is cut off abruptly, earning a thump to the shoulder from you when you realize the man has been eeking out the time between ‘feeding’ the orb so as to not raise suspicion. Needless suffering, considering how easily that pain could be mitigated by something that you could have made in abundance. Gale’s surprised when you forgive him just as quickly, a determined glint that he’s seen whenever you’re at work with your craft present in your gaze as you jump up and dart over to your tent. He calls after you, only to be met by a quick “I need to get to work!” before you all but disappear from view.

♡ The morning after this conversation Gale’s all but woken up by a loud clatter right outside his bedroll, startled by the sight of you unceremoniously dropping half a dozen handcrafted items right into his lap. You don’t need to tell him what they are - he can sense the magic within each one with but a glance, and the bewildered expression upon the wizard’s face is well worth the time you spent working into the late hours of the morning to make them. You look exhausted but smug, proudly gesturing to the pile with open arms as though expecting him to use one there and then.

♡ Maybe you actually do, as Gale ends up having to convince you that he’ll test them later at your insistence. Probably better to get breakfast together first, so that he at least has some sustenance and you can get a break before he attempts to do anything else.

♡ Gale often finds himself transfixed watching you as you tinker, fascinated seeing you at work. Of course he never wants to intrude whilst you’re hard at work, and wouldn't dream of interrupting you. But it’s hard to miss the guy practically burning holes into your hands, inquisitive eyes peeking over from the book he’s pretending to read trying to figure out every step of your practice by observation alone. It’s kind of cute, in a way - and having the actual process of your work appreciated is rather vindicating.

♡ Offer to show him how you work and the wizard will be by your side the moment you give him the all clear. He’s naturally got a curious disposition - one that’s gotten you both into more trouble than you can count actually - and his eyes are practically trained to the movements of dexterous hands along with your words of explanation, mapping out the intricacies. A perfect mix of the mundane arts and the magical to make something that is basically saving everyone in a few miles radius from an impromptu end - how could that not be fascinating to a man like Gale?

♡ He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s just using you for the magical items that you provide. The lengths you go to to help him cope with his affliction aren’t lost on him for a second, and he fears he’ll never be able to repay for that kindness. The man will essentially put himself at your disposal should you need anything. He doesn’t mean to brag, but he’s learned enough that he’s confident he can at least be of some use to you with his proficiencies. You’ll notice the little things - the extra portion he gives you when it’s his turn to cook; the little gifts of tools or items that caught your eye from passing merchants. He knows it’s not enough to repay you - you deserve something better, something grander - but till things have settled and he can give that to you this will have to do.

♡ Admittedly the pair of you experiment with the usefulness of your creations. Does the kind of magic or spell infused within the object have any effect on how long he can last before the next one? Unfortunately not; but the fact that the ability to test such a theory is even possible is extraordinary. With the threat of living from magic item to magic item no longer the catastrophic issue that it once was. The orb is always a lingering thought in the back of his mind; even on the best days it never fails to remind Gale of its presence ceaselessly beating away in his chest. But now it feels as though he’s gained some control back; a stable supply that does more than buy him time. And it’s all because of you - his wonderfully avid creator.

♡ Even after the orb is temporarily stabilized you still continue to make items for him. Maybe it’s out of habit, or maybe you worry that the spell that’s holding the orb back won’t last as long as you both hope. Whatever the reasoning, Gale never misses the spare magically infused trinkets hidden away in his pack; his ‘emergency supply’ for the worst case scenario that you’re not there and he needs it. He may hopefully never need to use them, but gods if he doesn’t cling to each and every item you make for him like it’s still the dearest lifeline you’ve ever given him.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 gale #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale x tav #request #anon #artificer tav #ngl im imagining them giving gale those items the same way ppl do like #breakfast in bed lmao

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megalony · 5 months

Text

Not Without Eric

This is a Prince Eric (The Little Mermaid) imagine, I rewatched the movie and am desperate for more ideas for Eric. Any feedback would always be amazing, enjoy.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

@jonahhauer-kingg @melaninjoys @luna2034 @mystiqueprincess @fangirl-tothemax @musicistheway @wandamaximoffbae @notagreekgal28 @ellietalenfwlers

Masterlist

Summary: Eric chooses the wrong time to go off on a short voyage when (Y/n) goes into labour while he's away. He promised his wife he would be there with her.

(Mention of previous stillbirth)

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Not that one."

A gentle smile that flashed his teeth crept onto Eric's face when his head tilted to the side to look over at his wife. His eyes creased at the corners and he let go of the shirt he was just about to fold and pack into the trunk that was set out on the end of the bed.

He watched with a smile that changed into a grin as (Y/n) reached across the bed and took the shirt, reeling it into her chest like it was a fish on a hook she was desperate to catch.

"I need that one… I can't sleep when you're not here."

Eric's heart did a small flip in his chest when he watched (Y/n)'s eyes cast down to her hands and that small, blushing smile that he loved so much was almost hidden from her face. He closed the trunk and moved round to sit on the edge of their bed, reaching his hand out to rest on (Y/n)'s knee.

"Okay, that shirt stays with you." His voice was soft and quiet and it made (Y/n)'s heart flutter when she looked up through her lashes. "I won't be gone long, sweetheart."

"I know,"

He knew it was hard for (Y/n) when he had to leave for voyages like this and Eric had cut down his voyages a lot in the past few years. When (Y/n) used to come along with him, they went out almost every month and it was perfect because they were together.

Now she was pregnant, again, going on a voyage was out of the question and even though Eric didn't join every voyage his ship coursed out on, he had to go on a few. He had to be there to make sure the trades went off smoothly and the ship and the cargo came back in tact and all in one piece. This was the last trip he was going on, then he would be home for when the baby was born and everything that followed afterwards.

"In two weeks, I'll be home with you… both of you."

(Y/n)'s hand moved to tangle in his curls when he leaned over and pressed his palms to her stomach. She could feel his fingertips ever so gently gliding across her exposed skin and when he kissed her stomach, she almost burst into tears.

"Don't be delayed,"

If Eric got delayed or shipwrecked, (Y/n) wouldn't know what to do with herself. She couldn't be alone in the days leading up to the birth, not with how much she was already worrying and how horrid she was going to feel. She needed him here, by her side.

"Don't worry, I'll be home right on time. I always come back to you, don't I?"

***

"(Y/n), darling please! Let us help you-"

"Not. Without. Eric!" Each word rose higher and higher in (Y/n)'s throat until Eric's name was the only thing she could comprehend and she bellowed the word so horridly that everyone in the castle would be able to hear her screams.

She was making the Queen cry.

The ageing Queen who always held her composure and contained her well mannered temper was now stood, crying against the bedpost that was holding her up and preventing her from collapsing to the floor. She wanted so terribly to reach out and take hold of her daughter in law and comfort her in some way, but she couldn't.

No one could get within arms reach of (Y/n) who kept shuffling, crawling and scraping across the floor so that no one could touch her. The one person she wanted was the one who wasn't here. The person who was hundreds, if not thousands of miles away on the sea. No one could get word to Eric that (Y/n) was in labour and no one had the power to bring him right back here where he was needed. All they could do was wish that somehow, their prayers would reach him and give him some sort of sign of their need for him.

(Y/n) had done this before.

She had gone through the night sitting in Eric's arms, waiting for labour to speed up. Then she had spend the day with Eric sat by her side, both of them laughing and crying and in pain together, riding out labour until their baby had been born. And the lifeless, eternally sleeping babe was placed into their arms.

It had all been for nothing.

(Y/n) had lost her baby boy and she didn't know why. Two years of heartache and dull, throbbing days had passed and led up to this moment. This was a time where (Y/n) couldn't have history repeating itself and she didn't want to do this alone. She didn't want to be in pain, crying in agony that she was going to give birth to another lifeless child that would never scream, cry and wriggle in her arms and never grow to be loved.

His name tore from (Y/n)'s chapped lips again as she went down on her hands and knees. Her head tilted in the direction of the balcony that was only a few feet away and she stared out at the unchanging, rioting sea that was mocking her. Telling her it had her husband hidden away somewhere and would never let him come back to her.

"I can't d-do this!"

"Help her, now!" Without waiting for (Y/n)'s response that would surely ensue a fight, the Queen moved into action.

She pushed herself off the bedpost and scrambled down onto her knees in front of the girl she thought of as her own child. When (Y/n) tried to weakly fight her off, she held (Y/n) against her chest and pulled her into a comforting, if broken, embrace. While a midwife and one of the maids knelt down by their legs as the Queen helped (Y/n) turn so her back was pressed up against the Queen's front.

The blood stained into the carpet and it caught (Y/n)'s attention, despite her cries and sobs. It was all she could look at while her body writhed, her legs numbly kicked out and her arms fought and smashed into her own chest to try and release some of the pain she was feeling inside.

"Eric!"

His name broke free from her chapped, bloodied lips the moment the midwife eased the newborn into her arms.

The sharp cry the newborn let out sent (Y/n)'s mind reeling and cut her right to her core. Those petrified screams made it seem like the child had been the one to go through nine hours of pure terror and become ripped apart from the inside out. It was as if the baby had born the harships in these few seconds of life when it was (Y/n) who was the one in pain. She was the one who felt numb and broken and praying everything would just end.

"A boy, Highness."

She didn't care. (Y/n) didn't want to know what was wriggling between her legs. She wanted to disappear. She wanted the ocean to carry her softly away until she found who her heart was aching for.

The newborn's chubby cheeks were burnt red and splattered with dots of blood and fluid, his brows were furrowed and his eyes were clamped shut. The way he wriggled made (Y/n)’s heart flutter, the sight of seeing her baby actually move instead of lay limp in someone else’s arms made her elated. But the screams that tore from his bright red lips made her shrink back in what she could only guess was repulsion.

(Y/n) thought that when this baby was born, she would be sobbing out of either joy or heartache, depending on which way it went. She thought that if their baby was okay she would be fighting the midwife to take them into her arms and hold them with her heart jumping out of her chest. (Y/n) thought it would feel so much better than this, she had heard so many women telling her how having a baby made them feel and (Y/n) was so desperate to have that feeling that she missed out on two years ago.

No one said she would feel closer to the emotions she felt last time than something different she was expecting. No one said she would feel this way.

Even though (Y/n) could feel happiness at knowing their baby was here kicking and screaming, it was dulled down almost completely by the overwhelming terror and the sinking feeling in her heart. Why was he screaming like the world was burning around him? Why did he sound like he was in so much pain when it was (Y/n) who was physically breaking both inside and out?

“Would you like to hold him, your highness?” The midwife’s words sent chills running through (Y/n)’s bloodstream and she dared not open her eyes to look at her baby.

“No.” (Y/n) repeated the word again and again to herself like she was a record stuck on repeat. Each time she whispered the word, it was spoken with more fury and pain and vengeance than before until she was almost screaming.

Her hands moved from her chest to smother her face with her palms, but it didn't stop the horrendous scream from leaving her lips and it didn't hide the tears that were streaming from her face. Every part of her body started to tremble as another scream rippled against her throat and her knees pulled up to her stomach, despite the agonising pain it caused.

(Y/n) wanted to go back.

She wanted to reverse time and rebound to part of her past where it was easier, where she first got married to Eric and everything was alright. Where no one was pestering her about having a child or smothering her when she didn’t do her job and lost her baby. Where no one then wrapped her in cotton wool when she got pregnant again. (Y/n) wanted to feel like herself, she didn’t want to feel like she was both a mother and a deliverer of precious cargo that was to be stolen from her.

She didn't know why, but when she stopped screaming, her body felt like it was fading. She felt like she was drifting away.

“She’s causing herself to haemorrhage, she's going to make herself ill, Majesty."

If she continued to struggle she would suffer a haemorrhage that was almost as bad as her previous one and losing more blood wasn’t going to help.

"I want Eric," It was the only thing that the Queen could comprehend before she felt her daughter in law go limp in her arms. And it was the Queen's turn to be sat on the floor, screaming for someone to help the lifeless girl in her arms.

They needed the Prince.

***

Anticipation, excitement and desire all burned inside Eric like a whildfire spreading through his bones when those all too familiar doors came into focus.

He felt the carriage wheels continue to roll even as Eric pushed himself up and jumped down onto the cobbles before it came to a stop.

He wanted to be inside. Those doors had never had so much appeal as they did these last few years. Never did Eric feel such a strong pull back towards the castle he was always trying to get away from. Until (Y/n). Knowing she was hidden behind those doors created an invisible rope binding her to Eric so when he went out to sea, the rope tugged at his heart strings. He envisioned those doors when he went to sleep, seeing himself pushing them open to find his family that called out to him when he was on a voyage.

Eric always used to think that the sea was where he belonged and nothing could tether him here to the Island when all he wanted was to be out on the rocky seas that claimed him for themselves.

Suddenly, family changed its meaning and home well and truly became the place that held (Y/n). Wherever she was, that was where Eric wanted to be.

With one bag held tight in his fist, Eric burst through the castle doors and heard the wet heel of his boot clack and stomp against the stone floor.

Where was she?

A twinge of disappointment tugged at his heart when he looked around and didn't see a single soul in sight.

Eric had never had to go and find her before. In the back of his mind he tried to chide himself, telling himself he was becoming entitled, but he couldn't help it. Every time he came back from a voyage, his girl was here waiting to pin him to the ground as soon as he stepped back through the doors. He'd never had to go scouting round for her when he came home, not once.

Hadn't she been informed he would be home today?

"Eric!"

That wasn't the voice he was searching for. Unease overtook his body and disappointment grappled in his eyes when his sights set on his mother. He loved her to the ends of the ocean, he truly did and it never mattered that they didn't see eye to eye, their bond was strong. But right at this moment, with his heart pounding in his chest and his bag clenched in his hand, he wanted his wife in his arms, not his mother.

Two weeks had dragged on by into an eternity and Eric was starting to feel withdrawl symptoms from his girls. He had to sleep at night on a swaying, rocking boat and refrain from reaching his arms out in the dark to try and find (Y/n). He had to wake in the dead of night and come to the realisation that the voice he heard was only a dream. He had to calm himself down and swallow down a gasp when he

remembered he was thousands of miles away from his wife. He had to pin himself to the bed and remind himself that he couldn't go searching for his wife when he realised she wasn't in his arms.

If Eric ever went on a voyage without (Y/n), he could guarantee that the moment he stepped through the castle gates, there she was. Stood at the doors waiting to jump into his open arms and whisper how much she had missed him.

"Eric, oh Lord you're finally back."

Eric didn't like the look on his mother's face or the way she seemed to relieved to see him. She didn't look angry, he knew that expression well. And she didn't look disgruntled or irritated, but he couldn't place how she was staring at him. Her arms hooked around his neck and reeled him down into an unsettling hug that made his breath get caught in his lungs for a few moments.

Why was she so thrilled to see him? Had there been storms nearby that made them worry he would be shipwrecked? Did they hear some wrong news that he had been injured or might be delayed?

"I am, is everything alright? Where's (Y/n)?" Leaning down, Eric pressed a kiss to her temple but he couldn't stop himself from looking around the hallway in case (Y/n) was about to come out from the shadows at any given moment and surprise him. He moved his hands to hold her elbows, steadying her but also keeping her close while he waited, somewhat impatiently, for a response.

"Thank goodness you're home," It was only then that Eric heard the fear in his mother's voice and realised that she was shaking from how badly she was gripping his arms. "You need to come with me. Now."

"Why?"

Something sparked to life in his vibrant blue eyes but his shoulders raised and tensed when he watched his mother press her lips together tightly in a way she did when she was nervous. She moved to grab his wrist and tried to drag him along with her but he was far too strong for her to move; he was a boulder in the ocean, unmoveable and set in his ways. He wanted to know what had happened and he wanted to know now.

"Tell me what's happened."

"Eric, sweetheart… she's had the baby."

He didn't realise he was falling until he felt his mother's nails digging into his wrist and Grimsby's arms bound beneath his arms to hold him upright. His knees bent out, his chest started to shake and no air seeped into his lungs as he let Grimsby push him back up onto unsteady feet that were about to collapse again.

She couldn't have.

(Y/n) couldn't have had the baby yet. It was too early. He was supposed to be here when it happened.

Eric was supposed to be home in plenty of time to prepare for the baby and he here to hold (Y/n)'s hand and curl her into his side and pray for her safety. This wasn't supposed to happen while he was away at sea and he stupidly thought he would be safe to have a two week journey and come home to find his wife perfectly fine with no signs of early labour.

She had been a week overdue the last time and things hadn't gone smoothly; far from it. Something within Eric told him, or rather lead him to believe that this baby would be right on time or another late arrival.

How stupid he had been.

"Is she alright?" Eric croaked through the words but he was already off in a sprint, halfway up the stairs with his mother in tow behind him along with Grimsby. Both of them running, the Queen lifting her skirts as they tried to keep up with the Prince who was stumbling over his feet.

He used the bannister as leverage to propell himself up the second flight of stairs and spared a glance behind him before he was running down the hall to find his wife.

Why had he gone away?

"Eric-"

"Mother is she alright?! Oh God, please, mother please…" Eric stumbled back a step when he felt her hands coiling around his arm, pulling him into her chest until he almost toppled her over.

His hands clamped down on her shoulders and his vision blurred with tears as he stared down at his mother, desperate to have an answer and be put out of his misery now. He couldn't have missed the birth of his second child. He had been there for the first and he was supposed to be here this time as well because he knew (Y/n) was fretting history repeating itself. How cruel could the world be that it would let this happen while Eric was out at sea?

"She needs you."

That meant she was alive and that was all Eric needed to hear.

With a hand pressed against her lower chest, the Queen leaned against the wall and grabbed Grimsby's arm to prevent him from following the Prince down the hall. They had to give the couple space and as much as she was desperate to check on (Y/n) and how she knew Grimsby would want to see the Princess as well, they had to stay back. For now.

The door opened much too easily as if Eric thought it would be locked or barracaded when he reached it. The door swung open and had Eric on his knees over the threshold, one hand on the door and one hand on the floor.

"Sweetheart,"

For a moment, (Y/n) thought his voice was a mirrage. She thought her mind was tricking her again like it had last night when she woke up, blazed with a fever, scrambling onto the floor when she thought she heard Eric coming home.

When her eyes set on him, a torrential downpour of tears flooded her face and a horrid, gurgling cry left her lips as her arms stretched out for him.

"Oh, sweetheart," What was she doing on the floor? Eric pushed himself up and stumbled across to where he could see his wife but he hadn't expected her to be curled up on the floor. He had been looking towards the vacant bed which had covers and pillows strewn all over.

There was his girl. The one who had been on his mind every second of every minute that passed by for the last two weeks.

She was sat awkwardly on the floor with her legs curled beneath her like they were broken and useless. Her body was slumped back against the bedframe with one arm slumped over the cot that was at the foot of the bed which her head was also resting on. Just the sight of the cot made Eric choke on a scream. He knew it was the same cot that they had gotten two years ago. The chip was still in the edge and there was a long crack down the side of the wooden cot.

The last time Eric saw that wretched thing, he had kicked it, threw it across the room and launched everything at it until it chipped and cracked and Grimsby had to pin him to the floor to stop him.

He thought it had been thrown out. He didn't realise his mother had kept it and defied his orders to have it burned. Eric had been expecting to just buy a new one and he wasn't sure if he was pleased or not that the old one was back in their room again.

"Eric," His name passed (Y/n)'s lips on a repeated loop and as soon as he was knelt in front of her, Eric swept her up into his arms.

His fingers dug into her toussled hair and his other arm bound to her waist until her chest was merged with his and he could feel each ragged, clawing breath fanning against his neck. Her lips pressed against his skin and he was sure she bit his neck too, but he didn't care. He scratched his nails against her scalp just to make sure this wasn't some sort of wretched dream and he leaned back until (Y/n) was slumped on his chest.

He could feel her nails digging into his upper back, scratching and clawing through his shirt and when she cried, each sound shivered through Eric's neck until he was sobbing into her hair.

It didn't occur to him until that moment to tilt his head and peek into the cot they were sat next to. His mother never said anything about the baby and he didn't think to ask; his first and only priority was (Y/n). But when he leaned over the side, he pulled (Y/n) tighter into his chest and pushed up higher onto his knees.

There was a baby in the cot.

A wriggling, stirring, yawning little baby that seemed too good to be true in Eric's unfathomable mind.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here," Eric nudged his eyes against (Y/n)'s shoulder to brush away his tears and when he pulled back a little, he moved his hand from the back of her head to cup her neck. "Are you alright?"

"You're home," (Y/n) couldn't answer because she didn't know if she was actually alright or not. All she knew was that she felt broken, bruised, numb and now held together now that Eric was back.

"Why are you down here, you should be resting."

Eric went to move her but he stopped when one of her arms reached out and shakily reached over the crib. Her fingers skimmed across the newborn's chest like she was too afraid to actually touch him and it made Eric's heart speed up with hope and fear all at the same time.

"A-another boy,"

"I can see that, and I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of you. But first, I need to make sure you're alright."

He didn't give her time to question or say a thing. His arms moved to slip beneath her bent knees and the other stayed curved around her back so he could carefully ease her into his arms as he stood up. His eyes took a sneaking glance back into the crib, just to reassure himself that their second son really was there and not just a figment of his imagination. Then he moved over towards the bed and gently laid (Y/n) back down where she should have stayed.

"I'm sorry-"

"I don't want to hear that from you, it's me who should be sorry. I promised I'd be here and I wasn't. I'm never leaving you, ever."

He tried to get (Y/n) to lay down but she wouldn't, her arms bound around his neck and reeled him closer until he was thrown off balance and fell forward onto her with a grunt. His left arm stayed pinned between her back and the soft mattress while his right hand pressed down into the mattress to stop his full weight from falling onto her and risk hurting her.

"You're home," Her lips kissed him eagerly, hungrily and desperately and when her fingers skimmed across his cheek, Eric reached up to grab her hand and hold it closer.

"I'm home." He smothered her lips with his, nipping at her lower lip and pulling it between his teeth as his tears merged with hers. Eric kept her hand pressed against his cheek, nuzzled into her touch and desperately kissed her like she was the oxygen he needed to survive.

He wasn't going anywhere ever again. He couldn't go on a voyage unless (Y/n)- and now their son- were by his side.

It was a risk he couldn't take anymore.

#prince eric x reader #prince eric imagine #eric imagine #eric x reader #prince eric #imagne #the little mermaid #the little mermaid imagine #jonah hauer king imagine #jonah hauer king

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ghoulangerlee · 5 months

Note

“Interlocking your fingers above your head while making out passionately” with swissalps? 💚

howdy howdy hi, sorry for the delay on this please enjoy some swissalps making out and some good ol fashioned over the clothes grinding that doesn't actually lead to anything because they're silly and sometimes they just wanna make out without having to worry about coming I guess 😂

Swiss's fingers fit snugly between Mountain's as he presses the taller ghoul into the bed, a wide grin on his face at how easy he goes down, at the blush across the bridge of Mountain's nose.

He wants to tease him, use his words to have Mountain squirming and whining under him but he holds off—just barely, instead, he squeezes both of Mountain's hands before diving down and sealing their mouthes together.

A purr rumbles deep within Mountain's chest as he spreads his legs wider, welcoming Swiss closer and closer until they're pressed so tightly together it's hard to tell where one of them stops and the other begins.

A bite, gentle and teasing against Mountain's lower lip has him gasping softly, dull and human teeth sinking into his flesh for a moment before a tongue follows, flicking across the slight indents.

This time, it's Mountain who squeezes Swiss's hands, white knuckled as he arches up into him with a groan, breaking the kiss after a few moments to pant openly into the space between them.

"Do you wanna fool around?" Swiss mumbles as he mouths at Mountain's jaw and Mountain can feel the wide grin, can smell the playful arousal in Swiss's scent.

He laughs, breathless and quiet as he hooks a foot around Swiss's leg, using what little leverage he can get to grind up into the crease of his thigh, "That answer your question?" He shoots back, feeling and hearing Swiss's answering laughter before his mouth is once again taken in a kiss.

Mountain hums softly, squeezing at Swiss's hands gentle and continuous as he kisses back, slowing it down into something less frenzied and sweeter as Swiss trills softly into his mouth.

For a while, they carry on this way, grinding slow and sweet against each other as their combined scents fill the room, trading lazy kisses back and forth all the while. Each time Mountain tries to pull his mouth away for longer than a few heartbeats to breathe, Swiss makes a sort of sad noise before diving back in for another kiss, stealing Mountain's breath all over again.

Lightheaded and giddy with it all, Mountain let's him, squeezes Swiss's hands until Swiss is squeezing back, making happy noises into his mouth as he does his best to ruin kissing anyone else for Mountain.

(And well, Mountain has kissed a lot, he loves with his whole body and soul and gets just as much if not more back from others, but he's never been able to find anyone who steals his breath away quite like Swiss does.)

At some point, Mountain realizes that they've stopped grinding against one another, that Swiss is just resting against him now, warm and firm, a heavy presence keeping him weighted down—his arousal is second to the burning need to see how long it takes for the two of them to get tired of kissing.

(The answer here is never, he will never get tired of kissing Swiss and being kissed by Swiss, their lips sliding together in an intimate dance as they lose time and get drawn into one another.)

When Swiss pulls away finally, his lower lip is a little swollen where Mountain had been biting at it, sucking it into his mouth each time Swiss would dive back in for another kiss. He grins at Mountain, fluttering his lashes playfully, "You good there, big guy?"

Mountain licks his lips and grips Swiss's hands tight, "Good," he responds, and then he's rolling them over until Swiss is under him and he can press him down into the bed, "Really good, song bird," he murmurs, muffling Swiss's laughter with his mouth as he goes in for another kiss.

#swissalps #the band ghost fic #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #is this any good?? i hope!!!#my writing

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sensei-venus · 7 months

Text

(Unedited) (Bullying, Kyler being Kyler, Happens before Miguel shows up, Bully!Reader is lovely-dovey down bad for a nerd, Hates herself for it but she can't help it, Reader doing illegal shit to Kylers car because she's a menace to society.) ( @gemini-sensei )

Recently thinking about this because of Bully!Reader.

What if Bully!Chubby!Reader, who is just a straight-up asshole to just about everyone, is kind of a loner, is new to school.

The minute she steps into school everyone just knows something's up. She's kinda punk like (maybe slimy like S1 Robby) and she walks around like she knows what the fuck she wants.

The first time she lays eyes on little Eli she just knows, she wants that dude.

She stares at him from across the room, maybe during lunch. Her eyes just dig into him, but he doesn't see her because he's too busy with talking to Demetri. They're too caught up in some nerd conversation about a new comic or something. She's just staring right at him while picking at her food. A sick little twisted smile on her lips.

But as the day goes on she happens across one of the many “Kyler” events where he's bullying Eli and Demetri. She takes more notice of the fact he likes going after Eli more than Demetri.

She doesn't like that one bit.

She wants to claim him.

For the next week, she basically stalks Kyler around the school maybe even outside of it. This leads to her finding his car, and let's just say that one day some very nasty stuff happens to his lovely car. Said thing involves major property damage.

While she's doing all of this, at the same time she racking up her own little “hits” of kids she messes with. Unlike Kyler she doesn't have a list of specific kids she goes after. Their random and just kids that piss her off in one way or another. Everyone gets the fact that she's doing her picking and bullying at random. No one wants to get in her way or on her bad side.

One day she finds Kyler and his goons once again messing with Eli. This time she catches him physically messing with the boy. Picking him up and getting in his face. Eli is scared shitless, halfway off the ground. They laugh at him and making nasty comments. From not only his body but about his lip. This sends Reader over the edge making her snap. She rushes over to them and physically pulls Eli away from Kyler’s grasp. He falls to the floor with a thud, rolling away, and pushes himself up against a wall. Too scared to even try and run off. He just sits on the floor with wide eyes.

Reader gets in Kyler's face spewing threat after threat. Each new sentence has his goons stepping back. Finally she gets to the point.

“Moskowitz is mine from now on. I'm call dibs on the little shit. Your going to stop fucking with him, unless you want another “accident” to happen with your car again? Maybe next time it will be something worse.” she grins at the way his posture changes. His eyes go wide just a little and he takes a small step backwards.

“What the fuck that was you-”

“I don't think you want to find out.”

He huffs before pushing his goons to leave. They slowly walk off, leaving him behind for just a moment.

“You can have the freak for now! But just for no— your fucking lucky bitch!” and he takes off to follow his friends.

She rolls her eyes and scoffs before turning back around to find her prize. She smirks as she looks down to find her prize. Still on the floor shivering in fright, he stares at her and loudly gulps. He knows her reputation. He has to be her newest victim. Whatever she said to Kyler was able to scare him off which wasn't at all easy.

She bends down, her cleavage right smack down in his face. He's too scared to pop a boner but he's happy about that. Clearly, she just called dibs on him, and Kyler’s bullying privileges have been revoked. She smirks down at him saying “Your mine now dude.” she laughs which sends a chill up his spine. He gulps down a huge spitball.

Apparently, he was trading in bullies for this semester.

(Part two to this is going to be ✨freaky✨😈.)

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achaotichuman · 5 months

Note

*Hops down from the rooftop* What are your headcannon on Rhysand and Lucien fighting over Tamlin?

Also have a cookie 🍪🍪🍪

*Takes cookie and eats it, begins talking with my mouth full* Well I have quite a few headcanons on Rhysand and Lucien fighting over Tamlin, I'm so glad you asked about them. Here are the scenes I imagine.

When Lucien waltzed in alongside Tamlin to the High lord meeting, Rhysand initially thought nothing of it. So, the fox boy he had heard so much of had run off to Spring when his little lover was slaughtered. Of course, Tamlin, the bleeding heart, let him in and gave him a fancy title. Anything to save his broken ego. A stupid decision of course, letting in the disowned son of Autumn into the Court semi-new untrained High lord. But that was Tamlin, never thinking beyond whatever injured, pleading Fae laid at his feet.

Too kind, untrained, unknowing, untested. That would be killed soon enough, perhaps the fox would have something to do with it.

But Rhysand was quickly taken aback by just the sort of person Lucien Vanserra proved himself to be.

Tamlin had said something, adding to the conversation about trade between Summer and its neighboring Courts. Rhysand made a snickering comment he didn't care to remember, why would he? He made many snickering comments about Tamlin.

Then Lucien had looked him dead in the eyes, fire burning in his gaze, cracking in the air, he had murmured in a low tone, "Watch that forked tongue, Rhysand, we wouldn't want the new High lord of Night to be proven as a witless fool."

Rhysand's eye had twitched, but he smirked and drawled, "And what is the disowned Prince talking about? Surely you know better than to invoke a High lord's wrath, we do know what happened last time you tried that." Rhysand flicked his eyes pointedly to Beron.

Lucien had simply lounged back in his chair, "Would invoking your wrath lead for a more interesting subject of conversation? Every word that has so far come from your side of the meeting has been nothing more than bland. Though I suppose I shouldn't expect more from someone who wears the exact same jacket every day."

Rhysand blinked, and Tamlin snickered under his breath. That snicker, the look of mischief in the Spring Lords eyes when he turned to Lucien was what pushed Rhysand over the edge.

"I'll have you know; I do not wear the same jacket every day, little Lucien." Rhysand drawled.

"Ahh, so it is the latter option." Lucien looked at Tamlin and quirked an eyebrow, at which Tamlin had to bit down on his lip and look away from his emissary, lest he burst out laughing.

"Excuse me?" Rhysand said, confused.

Lucien then turned his sly fox eyes back to the Night Lord, "Well, Tamlin and I were just discussing on our journey here whether or not you wore the same jacket every day or had a wardrobe full of the exact same clothes. We both decided it was in the fact the latter that was more pathetic."

Every High lord had then pointedly looked at the floor or celling. No one meeting Rhysand's eyes.

That day a war was waged, and Rhysand swore he would win it.

***

Tamlin had always been receptive to Rhysand, always. Even before he considered them 'friends' the Springling was drawn to the realm of Night. Asking one to many probing questions at meetings, watching Rhysand and his circle at parties. Even following Illyrian warriors around at a distance when the Night and Spring armies had a brief few weeks of training with each other.

Even after their fallout, even after Rhysand couldn't look him in the eye and see his friend anymore. The Night Lord enjoyed toying with him. A conversation here, a whispered comment there, a torturous trailing of fingers along the collarbone or thigh would have Tamlin ready to fall to his knees. Whether to beg for forgiveness or beg in another... more sensual way, Rhysand would decide once he got him that point of desperation.

But Rhysand was never able to get him to that point. Because a certain red-headed bastard who had no right playing in territories that weren't his always managed to intervene.

Helion's father had thrown some gathering, of course Rhysand was invited. Everyone was invited, including Tamlin.

It hadn't taken long before Rhysand decided he wished to play. He snuck up behind the Spring Lord, whispered a few back-handed compliments and hidden insults about his reign. Along with the cutting words, his fingers danced on Tamlin's waist.

The Spring Lord had taken in deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as if praying to the Mother for strength. She would not answer his calls, she had gifted Rhysand with his powers after all, the Mother was yet another delightful worshipper of the ground the Nightling walked upon.

Rhysand finally whispered a cruel taunt in Tamlin's ear, something about his mother being a bitch-slave to her mate. Claws had shot through Tamlin's fingers but he couldn't lay a hand on Rhysand, lest he start a battle he would not win.

Rhysand then wrapped his hands around Tamlin's hips and slowly began to pull him away from the party, back into the shadows.

"Come play in the dark with me, won't you Tamlin?" Rhysand spoke softly in his ear. Tamlin nearly fell back into him, lulled into the false sense of safety that was the Night Court.

Then there were clicking footsteps. A shock of red hair appeared before them, and then Tamlin was being reeled away from Rhysand. The Night Lord stood shocked for a moment, then he saw the offender.

Lucien Vanserra grinned at Rhysand, only innocence in that beautiful face. But fire crackled in his eyes, a warning that had Rhysand stepping back and brushing himself off.

"Tamlin, I'm so thankful to have found you." Lucien said, turning back to his High lord, pointedly ignoring Rhysand.

"There are some esteemed courtiers that would love to meet your acquaintance, I have told them all about your ideas for installing a filter through-" Lucien wrapped a hand around Tamlin's waist, keeping him close, far, far too close for Rhysand's liking.

Rhysand cleared his throat, cutting Lucien off abruptly. He turned to face the Night Lord, his face still perfect and calm, but those eyes... Rhysand nearly shuddered.

The Night Lord straightened, "A pleasure to see you as well, Lord Lucien Vanserra."

Lucien looked him up and down slowly, then he looked over at Tamlin who was glancing between the two of them, looking at Rhysand like he wanted to cut his throat and the only thing stopping him was Lucien.

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Rhysand. Now Tamlin, if you aren't preoccupied, I must take you to meet these guests."

With that Lucien swept Tamlin away into the ground, but not without a final glance over his shoulder at Rhysand.

Rhysand wanted to pounce, to run forward and drag Tamlin, drag his Tamlin back into the darkness.

Then the Night Lord nearly jumped when something like fire burned at the entrance of his mental wards. Nothing to suggest a daemati playing in his head, but some person with a great deal of power asking for an audience in his mind.

Rhysand allowed a small window to reach and speak to this unknown power.

"Don't ever touch him, Night Lord. Don't even come near him." Lucien whispered along the makeshift bridge between them.

"Or what Fire Lord?" Rhysand taunted.

"Or I will see to it your death is worse than that of your own sister's."

Rhysand stilled, he felt all the blood drain from his face as anger took hold but before he could latch onto Lucien's mind and make him pay for his words, the Fire Lord was gone.

Still when Rhysand looked around the party he saw them. Lucien and Tamlin together. Tamlin now happily enjoying the conversations he was having, no doubt forgetting about his earlier encounter with Rhysand.

But Lucien caught his eye. Lucien saw right through his diplomatic act.

Violet on burning embers.

Lucien grinned. It was full of fury and hatred.

Rhysand grinned back. It was laced with the promise of retribution.

***

"What is your problem?" Rhysand hissed, pulling Lucien aside and into the shadows, where they couldn't be seen or heard.

They were in Spring. Celebrations were under way for Calanmai. Tamlin's tenth Calanmai since taking to the throne. Rhysand loved to blend into the celebrations, appearing beside the Spring Lord when he least expected it.

Morrigan had asked he stay in his own court for this Calanmai, considering he never seemed to partake in the celebrations of Night. He didn't know why he had to, considering it wasn't as if Night took the holiday nearly as seriously as Spring, there was no 'renewal of the earth' in Night, if there was rest assured Rhysand would be there. As it were, he preferred to join in on Spring.

He preferred to fuck around with Tamlin's heard. He liked to set off the already on edge High lord. Liked to prove he had little control on his temper, which Rhysand already knew he tried hard to keep in check.

However, the last few years Lucien had landed a keen eye on Rhysand. Swooping in and intervening whenever Rhysand managed to rile Tamlin up almost to the point of attempting to strangle Rhysand.

At first it had been funny to watch Lucien intercept Rhysand's dealings with Tamlin, now it was getting old.

"My problem, Rhysand, is that you just can't get over your obsession with him." Lucien hissed back.

Rhysand let out a barking laugh, "Obsession?!"

"Yes," Lucien crossed his arms, "Why is it that you are all over Tamlin at any given opportunity? I first thought it was because of what went down between you that night, but now.... watching you try again and again to get your grimy hands onto him, it just looks like some creepy fetish you're chasing."

Rhysand balked. He let out a wild laugh, "Have you lost your mind? Have you forgotten exactly who you're speaking too?"

"I have not forgotten who you are at all. You are the creep who continues to try and prey on my best friend." Lucien said, eyes lighting up with that fire, "And I sincerely suggest you step away from him."

"If he doesn't want me around, why does he not send me away himself? Tell me Lucien, if he afraid of me?"

Lucien leaned back on his heels, looking Rhysand up and down like he was little more than a bug under his foot. Rhysand found his own anger starting to push to the surface.

"If you want to be picked by the High lord." Lucien said slowly, "Go line up with the other maidens by that cave and wait your turn."

Rhysand was stunned into silence. Lucien took the window too walk out of the darkness and back into the light of Spring.

"Oh, you're good Vanserra." Rhysand whispered to nothing, "But not better than me."

***

"I'll forgive you." Rhysand said.

Tamlin's green eyes welled up with tears, glistening in the moonlight, he could only manage a weak, "Really?"

No, never, "Yes. I'll forgive you, Tamlin Darling."

Rhysand reached out and took Tamlin's hand intertwining their fingers, the smell of roses from the gardens around them was sickeningly sweet, "I'll forgive it all."

"Rhysand." Tamlin whispered.

"Come back with me to Night, Tamlin, I've forgiven you." Rhysand whispered.

Oh, he was too easy. Tamlin gave him a smile that the Night Lord would've once said was brighter than any star in the sky. But as they were, Rhysand hated it and couldn't wait to ruin it.

He wouldn't lie, there had been a time Rhysand had truly loved him. Had admired and respected Tamlin. Had cleaned the wounds his brothers gave him, had sung soft songs in his ear in the language of his mother. They had held each other in the coldest, darkest nights. They had hidden under blankets during the fiercest storms.

He hadn't always wanted Tamlin's ruin.

But he wanted it now.

He wanted to sweep Tamlin away, pretending to take him back to Velaris. Then leave him in the Court of Nightmares to find his own way out, to find his own way back to the Spring Court.

He wanted to see him break again.

Tamlin stepped closer to Rhysand, hesitating, like it couldn't believe this was real.

"I forgive you." Rhysand whispered again. '

"No, he doesn't." A cunning voice cut through the dark of Spring night.

Tamlin and Rhysand looked up to see Lucien pacing leisurely towards them.

"Lucien-" Tamlin started.

Lucien cut him off, "He doesn't forgive you Tam. There's nothing to forgive."

The Fire Lord held Rhysand's gave with every lethal word he said, cutting through the trance Rhysand had carefully lulled Tamlin into with his sweet words and promises of forgiveness.

"You did nothing wrong. You were drugged against your will. You were kidnapped by your own flesh and blood and forced to watch this low life's sister and mother killed. There is nothing to forgive of you. You did nothing wrong."

"That is not true!" Rhysand snapped, finally and fully fed up with this fox's lies, "You weren't there, you have no clue of what went down! He is guilty of their deaths, and I won't have you coming along and trying to rewrite the narrative!"

Rhysand in a blast of anger had caused the very sky to darken. His eyes blazed with power as he surged towards Lucien, fully prepared to take his head off.

Then vines wrapped around his arms and legs, reeling him right back. Rhysand whipped his head around to see Tamlin standing there, staring into nothing but with his hand raised as he called on the power of the earth to hold Rhysand.

"He lied to you Tam." Lucien said, brushing past Rhysand in favor of standing before his High lord, "He'll never not hold you accountable for what happened, no matter what the truth actually is."

"You lied to me." Tamlin whispered in Rhysand's direction.

Rhysand barked a laugh, finally being released by those vines. He straightened and brushed his jacket off, "You're actually going to believe this little Autumn reject over someone you've known almost all your life?!"

Tamlin's eyes turned from blank to rage. He squeezed his hands into fists. At that second a gust of wind blew through nearly knocking Rhysand off his feet. Tamlin remained upright like a rock in a storm, holding onto Lucien to keep the fox steady.

Rhysand stared at their conjoined hands, wanting nothing more than to cut Lucien's off.

Tamlin's voice then rang through the gardens with the power of a High lord, "You have come into my Court, insulted my emissary, sewn discord and chaos amongst my people and to top it all off you have played with my head like I am just a toy to you."

Roots shot up out of the ground, all around Rhysand like a cage growing from the very land.

"You have five seconds to take off and never set foot in my territories without an explicit invitation ever again. And you will never dare speak an untrue word or lay a hand on my Lucien for as long as your miserable life continues."

Rhysand stared at Tamlin, stared at those glowing green eyes, alight with power. He was serious. He was actually banishing Rhysand from his Court.

"You-"

Those roots shot up faster, and Rhysand had no choice but to grit his teeth, extend his wings and take off into the night.

When he returned to the Night Court, he found Azriel in the threshold of the townhouse, his arms crossed and his eyes... disappointed.

"Come on Rhysand, time to give up."

Rhysand snarled and he strode past his brother, "Never."

***

When Rhysand was finally gone Tamlin fell to his knees. Those roots going back down into the ground. Lucien was done in the dirt beside him in a second.

Lucien put his hands on his friend's shoulders, "He's gone now, you're okay."

Tamlin opened and closed his mouth, looking at the place Rhysand had been and then back at Lucien.

Then he all but fell into Lucien's arms, hugging him tightly and burying his face into the crook of Lucien's neck. Lucien hummed softly and rubbed circles into his back, just being close to him.

"I'm such a fucking idiot." Tamlin spat, voice breaking.

"No, no you're not. You're hurting and he took advantage of that, Tamlin he manipulated you, you aren't at fault for that."

"Yes, I am, I'm a High lord, I should at least expect that from him."

Lucien sighed and started to rock gently from side to side, "Maybe, but I don't know how well I would fare if I was in your position."

"You're smarter than me, you would've figured it all out."

"Hindsight is 20/20 Tam. Rhysand is a snake; we just need to keep him out of our gardens."

A moment of silence passed them, one heartbeat, then the next.

"He'll be back." Tamlin whispered.

Lucien pulled back just enough so that he could see Tamlin's face, he pressed their foreheads together and murmured, "And I will stand by your side and fight him to any ends if that's what it takes to keep you safe."

Tamlin screwed his eyes shut, "I don't deserve you."

"I love you." Lucien just managed to say.

Tamlin finally opened his eyes again, "I don't deserve you."

When they kissed it was like sweet wine. Delicious like honey and sending them higher than the clouds. Everything in the world slowed to a halt. No Night Lords, no Inner Circle, no darkness could have torn them apart.

Rhysand would be back.

But Lucien would fight him. Tamlin would fight him.

No matter how long it took, no matter how much strength it drained them of.

They would fight.

I know this isn't really a list of headcanons but I couldn't resist writing these scenes. Thank you for the ask!

#acotar #tamlin #lucien vanserra #rhysand #pro tamlin #pro lucien vanserra #tamsand #tamcien #acotar headcanons #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #anti rhysand

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redislazy · 4 months

Text

[minors dni] [cw: dubcon, choking]

ghost x afab!reader

red's ghost collection, no. 2

crossing the line with ghost.

┈┈┈┈┈┈

Your latest argument had reached an all-time high, fueled by ego and pent-up desire. You found yourselves cornered against opposite walls of an abandoned warehouse after a mission, trading insults and threats that were becoming increasingly shrewder and aggressive. It was as if something primal took over you both, unable to resist any longer despite knowing it would lead to disaster. As your words escalated, so did your physical actions; fists clenched and bodies tensed, prepared for the impending showdown. Neither of you wanted to back down from this struggle of dominance, even if it meant crossing a line you two swore never to cross.

Finally, fed up with your constant provocation, Ghost lunges forward with all his might. His hand wraps around your neck, choking you while pinning you against the wall. Your struggles only serve to excite him further as he feels himself grow harder under his clothes. His free hand roams your body roughly, groping your tits through your shirt before pulling it off entirely, revealing your perky nipples straining for attention. You moan into his grasp despite yourself, adding fuel to his desire. With a surge of strength, he lifts you off the ground with a grunt and slams you against the nearby crates, making sure you knew who held the upper hand.

Panting heavily, Ghost presses his hips against yours, grinding his erection. "You like this, don't you?" He whispers darkly into your ear, his voice dripping with ferocity.

"You want me to take control, make you mine." With each press of his body, he grows more forceful, leaving no doubt about what he desires from you. His hands roam freely over your body, tearing at your clothes until you're bare before him except for your panties.

"What've I done to deserve this? A stubborn little thing like you getting under my skin," He bites out between gritted teeth, his eyes locking onto yours as they gleam dangerously. "But maybe I shouldn't complain… seems I get what I want anyway."

With one swift motion, he pushes your panties aside and slides his cock into you, your own wetness providing convenient lubrication. You cry out in surprise as he forces his way inside, stretching you uncomfortably. Ghost lets out a low groan, relishing the feeling of being buried inside you. His grip on your neck loosens slightly, giving you enough air to breathe but not enough to defy him. "This is how it should be, ain't it?"

Feeling your body tremble underneath him, Ghost smirks darkly. "Like that, don't you? Reduced to nothing but a moaning mess beneath me," He moves his hips faster, thrusting deeper into you with each stroke. The sound of your bodies slapping together fills the air along with your gasps and moans. His hold on your neck remains firm, ensuring you stay quiet but also causing your face to turn red from lack of oxygen.

The sensations are overwhelming, both painful and pleasurable at the same time. Despite the situation, there's no denying the chemistry between you – it's undeniable even as Ghost continues to brutalize you against the crates.

Unable to resist any longer, Ghost releases himself inside you, filling you completely. It didn't take long for you to follow suit, your body quivering as you cum with him still throbbing inside you as he shoots each remaining drop left. His grip on your neck relaxes, allowing you to suck in a much-needed breath. As he regains his composure, he pulls out of you and drops you down the crates, standing over you with a satisfied look on his face. "There now," he says mockingly, brushing dirt off his hands. "Aren't we better behaved after a nice fuck?"

You stare up at him, trying to catch your breath and process everything that just happened. A part of you wants to hate him for treating you like this, yet another part revels in the intensity of your encounter. "What… was that for?" You manage to ask, your voice trembling.

His gaze meets yours coldly. "For me," he replies simply, stepping closer to you again. "To remind us both of who's in charge here." His hand reaches out, trailing along your cheek before cupping your jaw firmly. "And perhaps… because I couldn't resist you anymore."

As he speaks, the darkness in his eyes softens ever so slightly, betraying some hint of emotion that he tries desperately to hide. But then, just as quickly, it hardens once more. This man is a mystery even to himself, constantly wrestling with demons both literally and figuratively. Yet despite his efforts to maintain control, there's no denying the pull he feels toward you - however twisted or unwanted it may be.

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kib-ble · 9 months

Text

her knight in shining blood

i was listened to bf asmr’s yesterday and got this idea (don’t judge me, i’m depressed and i also pulled this out of my ass, once again, so it’s very rushed)

(knight!simon riley x princess reader)

he watched as new suitors came into the kingdom to present the princess their hand, only to be rejected each time. he heard the words from her father, the king, “stop being so picky, you need to marry royalty.” to which she looked over at him, a small look of pain written on her face.

simon knew what was running through her mind, the annoyance that no one will listen to her when she says she doesn’t want to marry royalty, instead her own knight that was assigned to protect her.

he knew the pain all too well. with one of the neighboring kingdoms planning to kidnap the princess after she rejected their prince, simon kept a high alert of people who come near his true love. his eyes were on her, always.

she got up after the king dismissed her, walking straight towards simon. he watched her intently, her every move was remembered in his mind.

“i wanna go on a walk,” she said, with no room for argument. she needs to clear her head, he thought. “come on.”

she walked away first, as he looked over at the king and nodded. he took the side next to her, their hands grazing against each other as they walked. they had waited till they were out of the castle to hold hands. if anyone said anything, the only response would be “she tries to wander off”, which is true, the princess tries to sneak off.

they walk next to a small part of the town, where it isn’t that busy. a small smile appears on simons lips as he watches her talk about her day. the topic of marriage comes up again and he pauses.

“i want to marry you, not some annoying prince..” she speaks softly, the words ring in his ears for a few moments. ‘i want to marry you’.

“why can’t i marry based on love, not wealth?”

“your kingdom is dying, your highness, you would be risking the fall of your rein.” he stopped walking and turned to look at her, “i need you to understand that you have to marry a suitor, forget about me, my love.”

she gasped and let go of his hand, “i will do no such thing! i love you and will not trade my love for money!”

“marriage is not based on love, it’s based on money and success. i have neither and cannot provide for you. i can only give you my strength.” his head dropped slightly, like a small bow.

“i want not to marry for money, i could give two shits about money, i want to be happy.” she raises her voice slightly, but he could hear the breaking in it.

“your highness, i will not let you throw away your rein for a knight! you know better than this!” now he felt like the king, scolding her on something she already knows. she stepped back slightly and stared at him.

“fine. i will marry a suitor, but im not giving up on us.” she turned around and started to walk back to the castle for bed. simon sighed and followed moments after, watching her waved and smile at the villagers like they didn’t just have an argument. he knew better, she wasn’t happy. she was on the verge of breaking.

~the next day~

with all the talk about the princess and kidnapping, simons guard was raised. he only left her side when she needed to go the bathroom. she wasn’t allowed in the village no more.

the neighboring kingdom had began their attack, leading closer to the castle. they weren’t very stealthy, only loud and obnoxious. simon watched as the princess paced back and forth. he had just told her the news of him fighting the battle.

“you cant do this! what if they come to the castle and try to take me! who would be protecting me then?”

he stood up from his spot and walked over to her, grabbing her hands and holding them tightly. their eyes met and he swore he could see them light up. “i am fighting for you. i will come back to you if something happens. i was assigned to be your knight and i will never stop fighting until this world no longer threatens you, my princess.”

his forehead rests against hers as they both close their eyes. they’re happy and they’re content.

“i must ask one thing from you, your highness..”

“yes, anything. what do you need from me, simon.” her eyes pleading as she softly spoke.

“may i have a kiss?” his tone sounded suggestive and soft. her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, not to choke him but to hold onto him, as she kissed him slowly and contently. his big, strong hands held her waist to stabilzed her as she stood on her tippy-toes.

when they pulled away, they were both out of breathe and smiled heavily at each other. her forehead rested on his strong chest inbetween her hands.

“promise me something?”

“yes, my princess?”

“you’ll come back to me tomorrow”

“i would never think to leave you alone in a world that only wants to harm you.” she smiles softly at this, placing her hand and forehead on his strong chest. her protector would never leave her.

~next day~

the princess was locked within the wall of her castle, with her family and royal servants. only the knights left the walls. which included simon.

she looked out of her room, over the vast land of her kingdom, where she could see them fight.

she could see the men fall from their horses and other being stabbed. she only hoped and wished simon would come back to her.

the fight lasted for weeks, with no breaks. she was left alone to wonder with her true love was slain or would he come back to her.

with rumors spreading through the streets that simon had been killed, she felt like her world had crumbled beneath her feet.

her simon, was murdered by a man who couldn’t accept rejection. disgusting king behavior. she sobbed for days until it was confirmed the soldiers were heading home and she had to greet them by the gates.

her and her family stood and welcomed all the soldiers back from their fight, thanking them and wishing them the best with healing. when it came to the very injured wagon of soldiers, she had noticed a very recognizable mask.

her simon was alive.

she ran to him and hugged him very tightly, being very wary of his wounds. she could feel his smile as he hugged her back with one arm, the other sitting at his side. he pulled her into his lap and held her tight.

“i thought you had died! everyone had said so!!” she softly yelled, holding his face and crying.

his hand wiped her tears, “i would never think about it, my love.”

she had snuggled into his lap, holding his as tightly as she could and as her parents watched the true love unfold, they realized you can’t marry for money, but for love. 🫶

#cod mwii x reader #call of duty x reader #kibble writes cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost x reader #fantasy au!ghost

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elektramustdie · 5 months

Text

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲)

warnings - unprotected sex ( don’t be silly wrap that willy) very slight choking, spanking, angst ??

“| work hard to make enough money to keep us here, and I hate every fucking minute of it, | fucking hate it! But | do it for you, and you always act so fucking ungrateful" frank screamed, pointing his finger in your face.

Another fight had started between you two, the same one that never seemed to end. You and Frank had moved from your city go-getter lifestyle to one in the suburbs, trading the subway and bright lights for a cute little house and picket fence.

You hated being a housewife, you hated the stupid neighbours who couldn't keep their noses to themselves, and you hated your little court where every house was a carbon copy of the other.

Going from your fast-paced life to this was the last thing you ever wanted. You worked remotely which provided you with the luxury of working wherever you wanted, so when Frank got offered a job promotion to lead the next expansion for his company it made sense to make the move.

But you weren't happy, and neither was Frank. He came home every day angry, or tired, or disappointed. Never happy.

You moved for a job he ended up hating, all because the money sounded good and you thought it would make your lifestyle better. But it did the opposite and you just wanted to move back to the city and get back to your lively, fun life. Your happy life with your husband. Hence the fight, the one where he acts like you're ungrateful because you complained that he was always angry.

He walked through the door and slammed it shut, not even saying a single word to you before disappearing into his office to do god knows what then coming out only to ask you what was for dinner. Like you didn't work as hard as he did.

“Ungrateful!? You are fucking unbelievable. | never wanted to move in the first place, but I did it because you wanted the promotion. And now it's backfired and it's suddenly my fault? You come home angry every fucking day and it's my fault!? What sort of bullshit logic is that" you yelled back. "Don't fucking act like you didn't want the money” he sneered, stepping closer so you were nearly toe to toe "The second you saw that shiny new payslip, and the little convertible | bought you, you were frothing like you do over my cock"

"Oh fuck you, Frank! Money means shit when you come home angry then act like an asshole and we both know it. I'd sell my fucking carina heartbeat if it meant I got my husband back. So don't you dare tell me this is about the money, this is about you proving to yourself that you didn't fuck up. Because Mr'I'm always right’ can never be wro-"

You couldn't finish your words, because your breath was taken away when his hand darted out and wrapped around your neck, his mouth smashing against yours in a brutal kiss. You grabbed his wrist instinctually, the other hand fisting his dress shirt as you kissed back hungrily. "are you gonna shut up and let me fuck it out, or would you rather keep screaming at each other" he pulled away harshly, his breath hard and the anger burning through him evident by his clenched jaw and flared nostrils. You didn't want to respond, because all that would come out were angry words, more screaming. So you just pulled him back by his shirt instead, kissing him again and wrapping your arms around his neck. Frank gripped onto the small of your back, pulling you flush into him so he could move his hands lower to the hem of your dress. He walked you backwards, and you followed blindly, stumbling until your bum hit the edge of the dining room table. He roughly tugged up your dress over your hips, lifting you onto the table before practically ripping your underwear off. Everything was rough, angry, heated.

You frantically undid the buckle of his belt, tugging open his zipper and pushing his pants along with his boxers down. There was no time to remove clothing properly, his shirt stayed on, as did your dress because you just needed each other too bad. He tugged your head back with a firm grip near your roots, guiding himself to your entrance before entering in one hard thrust. You let out a cry, digging your fingers into his shoulders at the intrusion.“I hate fighting like this" he grunted, attaching his lips to your neck as he squeezed your hip for leverage. His thrusts were borderline savage, anger evident in every movement as he drove into you. He was hitting every spot perfectly, his mouth attacking all your sensitive areas in a way that had you crying out with every touch. It felt so good, words couldn't explain how amazing it felt to be reconnected with your husband again.

"So do I" you whined, unable to hold your moans back. Frank forced your hands off his back and onto the table edge so he could slip your thin straps down your shoulders, letting the dress fall just enough to expose your bouncing breasts. His hands returned to their places, one at the back of your neck and the other sliding down to your clit, rubbing in circles the way he knew you loved. He attached his mouth to your breasts, kissing and sucking everywhere to mark you up. You were his, and marking your pretty skin with his mouth showed that to anyone that saw. He wasn't going to lose you, and he wouldn't be the reason you decided to up and leave one day. He loved you too much for that.

“Can feel you squeezing me, you're close aren't you baby? Always cum so quick around my cock" he panted, feeling your thighs tense on either side of your hips. You let out a little moan of encouragement, too caught up in the borderline painful thrusts and his delicate touches on your clit building up your orgasm to form words.

“Cum for me, let me feel it" he demanded, nipping at your neck before kissing a line up and bringing his lips to yours. You exploded soon after, letting out a cry as waves of pleasure erupted through your body, your hips shaking and seizing as he never stopped his thrusts or his touch on your clit. It almost became too much, but Frank knew your body like his own and slowed his movements before you even asked him to. You hadn't even calmed from your high before you were lifted again, carried through the house with his cock still filling you to the brim and brought to your bed. “Take your dress off" Frank demanded, dropping you onto the bed and beginning to undo his shirt buttons.

“Take it off yourself" you challenged, leaning back on your hands and looking at him with defiance. Your dress had moved back in place when he took you to your bedroom, collected around your hips and hiding everything he wanted to see. You were sick of him telling you what to do and how to feel. You needed to push back, ina way that wouldn't result in another argument. Getting him to unleash his dominant role and punish you for not listening to him sounded like the perfect way. Your anger wasn't gone yet and having him spank your ass would've helped release a lot of that. "Now isn't the time to test my patience" he warned, slipping his shirt off and dropping it to the floor. "Take it off"

“Fuck. You" you over pronounced each word, smiling sweetly at him. His jaw clenched, his eyes trailing over your body in a slow sinful manner. Before you knew it he grabbed onto your ankles and pulled your body flat, turning you over and gripping your hips to drag you back so you were on your knees close to the edge of the bed with your upper body against the duvet. He thrust into you in one go, eliciting another loud cry when he began spanking each of your cheeks. He had an impossibly tight grip on your hip, enough to create bruises that you'd feel for days. His smacks landed one after the other, alternating on each side as he kept a hard pace the entire time.

“I hate when you don't listen, but you do it on purpose don't you? Just want me to bruise you up isn't that right?" he rasped, wrapping your hair around his fist and tugging back so you were forced to follow, your back bumping against his chest.

"Yes, gives me something else to feel" you panted, your words having more weight behind them than you meant. Your body buzzed when he quickly pulled your dress off then hugged you close to him with an arm around your waist.

“What are you feeling right now huh? This not enough?" he asked against your ear, pressing over your stomach where his cock was bulging out. The angle was so steep, so deep and full you felt like crying, You felt like crying in another way too. Anger had a quick way of turning into something more… broken. Even with Frank's cock feeling incredible inside you, the skin-to-skin contact between you two feeling like it had healed so many wounds… it wasn't enough.

“ feel like i hate you and I'm trying not to” your eyes squeezed closed as you felt his movements stall, the high of what was meant to be hot angry sex disappearing quickly.

"What?" his voice was defeated, a complete 180 from his previous commanding tone. You couldn't reply, not when he slid out of you, or when he turned you around to face him. You kept your eyes closed the whole time, not wanting to look him in the eyes. "Baby, look at me, please" he begged, cupping your face. You put your hands over his and opened your eyes slowly, seeing his broken expression making you want to close them again and go hide. "You don't mean it do you, you don't really hate me?" he asked, pleading for it not to be true.

“I do… | hate who you've become, who this job has turned you-me into… We never fought, never yelled and now that's all we're doing" you sighed, "I love you, but I can't help but hate you at the same time. I just-! wish we could go back" tears welled up in your eyes and you looked up at the ceiling trying to get rid of them.

"Oh no, please don't cry. Fuck, please baby, just look back at me" he pleaded, wiping his thumbs under your eyes to catch the tears spilling down your face. You let out a quivering breath before looking back at him, your eyesight blurred from tears. "We can fix this, /can fix this. 'll do better, | promise" he assured you, kissing you gently in a promise.

"How Frank ? Acting less angry, or upset won't fix the fact that you're unhappy. | want you to be happy" you sighed, your heart breaking at the thought of Frank playing pretend for you when he was suffering on the inside. You wanted something that made you both happy.

“And | want you to be happy… | thought this move would do that, but maybe | was wrong…” he admitted. Frank didn't care about himself, he would've worked a job he despised every day for the rest of his life if it meant you were happy and taken care of. He never thought that he was bringing his anger home with him, too clouded by the money and what it had given you two materially to realise that he wasn't being a good husband. You weren't ungrateful, you were tired. Tired of him.

“So what do we do?" you asked, knowing what you wanted to do, but not sure if Frank wanted the same thing. We move back to the city, and I find a job that makes me happy and helps me be a better husband… for you" he smiled, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “You'd do that?"

"I would move heaven and earth for you baby, I'm so fucking in love

with you it's ridiculous" he smiled, making you smile in return. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close so you could kiss him, unable to hide your smile against his mouth. "t… love…you" you spoke between kisses, deepening it when you felt Frank wrap his arms around your waist in return. Your kisses held so many words, so much love, so many apologies and regret, so much Just. It turned passionate fast, Frank groaning into your mouth and guiding you to lay on your back with your head on the pillows. His hands caressed your body as he hovered over you, running his hand down the curve of your waist to your hips then back up, palming your breast before grabbing his cock to guide himself to your entrance.

“I love you so much, darling. My beautiful, beautiful wife" he professed, kissing you sweetly as he nudged inside you, taking his time to slowly push until his balls touched the curve of your ass. He was making sure you felt all of it, felt every vein, every inch of him slowly filling you up.

“I love you" you whined as he started moving, hiking your thigh up your hip as he delivered slow but hard thrusts. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he rocked into you, keeping your bodies as close together as possible. You loved kissing him, being close to him. Sex didn't fix everything, and your discussion would definitely have to be more thorough than Frank's promise, but it helped a whole lot to bring you back together. Your bodies moving as one, rocking in sync, hips meeting each other with gasped moans and whimpers, 'I love you's' falling like a mantra out, of your mouths. It was lovemaking at its finest, a symbol of your marital promises to each other, your unbounded love. His fingers met your clit, rubbing in soft pets that brought you delicious pleasure. He wanted the two of you to finish in sync, the ultimate promise of moving forward as a couple and making things better, together.

" Faster, p-please you breathed, your back arching up when he followed your plead almost instantly, his hips snapping against yours with greater speed that was immediately drawing your orgasm faster.

“Want to cum together, please baby hold on for me… squeezing me so. fucking perfect" he panted, his forehead dropping to the crook of your neck as he pressed haphazard kisses to your skin.

“I'm close" you moaned, head dropping back and eyes squeezing shut as you tried to reign in your orgasm. You were on the edge, and holding back was agonizing.

"I know, fuck-I know. 'm close too baby, just hold on" he begged, joining your mouths again in a sloppy kiss as he rocked alittle faster to chase his own orgasm. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, rubbing against, yours in a way that had him groaning. He loved the taste of you, of all of you.

“C'mon baby, oh god 'm coming, 'm coming" he spoke against your mouth, keeping a steady pace on your clit as he stilled inside you, his hips shaking as he came. You could feel his orgasm fill you as you let your own go, moaning out in relief as the tension left your body, pleasure spreading from your core outwards. You called out his name, clawing at his back and desperately seeking out his mouth as he drew you through it with gentle caresses of your sensitive bud.

" i love you, | love you, | love you" you repeated against his lips, his body slumping over yours as you both panted in each other's mouths. He repeated the sentiment, giving you a peck before rolling off you and bringing you into his chest, still needed to feel close to you before he had to get up and grab something to clean the two of you up.

"I'm sorry for our fight, | never should've said those things… | didn't mean it" Frank whispered, cupping your face to face his and rubbing his thumb under your eye, remembering the tears that welled up there. The serene feeling in the room felt too sacred to disturb by talking louder.

“I'm sorry too" you apologised in a similar tone, "We will need to talk about it properly, | hope you know that" you spoke again after a few minutes of looking each other, saying so many things just by the looks

you were exchanging.

"1 know… just let me hold you for now"

#smut fic #my chemical romance #frank iero #frank iero x reader #mcr #emo

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