#i had so many damn chores to do for lack of better word

[athenodora-sulpicia-writer]

Vanessa ives - where we meet at a ball and she ask us to dance, she never got our name and follows us home to find out we are the daughter of Evelyn Poole. So we start seeing Vanessa behind our mothers back and maybe if you could add some smut between us and vanessa?

Forbidden Love- Part 1- Vanessa Ives

A/N: Hey @wandamaximoff2823 thank you for your request, I'm so sorry for the long wait, I've been really struggling to get back into writing but better as never I suppose 😅, anyway I hope you enjoy this and that it was worth the wait.

Warning(s): Scars, smut, mentions of neglect/abuse.

I was never one to be interested in the intricacies of the aristocratic ways of the upper class but mother had asked me to be here and what ever mother asked you to do was never a simple request but a very firm order.

I entered the lavish estate of a Mr Dorian Grey, unescorted of course, how scandalous. A butler or perhaps he was a servant came and took my cloak and directed to me where all the fuss and chatter was coming from, so I followed the sound of champagne induced laughter and discussion of who owned the most properties in the countries, which took me to a grand ballroom which was filled to the brim of upper class Londoners, an orchestra and the walls were completely lined with portraits, show off.

I weaved my way through the large doorway that lead into the ballroom a feat which would have been easier if everyone was deciding to take up the space. I'd originally dressed to blend in and not draw in to much unwanted attention, who would have thought that wearing dress of gold and white (the opposite of what my mother would have ever approved of) would have caught so many stares and glances.

A server came to me with a tray of champagne and though I was usually partial to a class or two I knew I had to keep my mind as agile as possible for the task my mother had sent me to do. I was told to not get to close to Miss Ives but just enough to use some effective Nightwalker magic on her mind, this should have been Hecate's job not mine but apparently according to mother "Hecate had her own tasks" I would have used the chores or enslavement but I'd rather not have a gash from the tip of my cheek to my chin so I kept my mouth shut.

For a moment as I was thinking a man approached me and I could already smell the alcohol from a mile, this would be wonderful not, I snarled for a moment at the thought but as the man was now in reach of me I returned my face to its natural composure.

"What's a charming dove like you doing all alone and without a chaperone?" This man, who looked old enough to be a someone who should start writing their will, asked me. Who looked like the usual upper class prick, my least favourite kind of mortal irritation.

"That is none of your concern sir, now if you wouldn't mind walking off to go and compare your assets, though I'm sure yours are lacking by the looks of things, with the other gentlemen I'd be most thankful." I said the man with my best 'I'm super important' voice but when the man didn't leave I know that my word choice may have been a little too much.

"How dare you speak to me in such a way," The man snarled at me and was quick to grab my upper arm harshly and with so many people in the room it would be easy to not notice or ignore what he was doing. "Now judging by your dress I'd say your still a maid, so why don't you be a good little heiress and have a drink with me on the balcony," Damn this dress I just wanted to wear something that was the opposite of the scars on back and now I was being mistaken for a maid because of it, just fabulous.

As more time passed and I hadn't responded, the man's grip on my upper arm was becoming painfully tight and even for someone like me, I couldn't hold back a wince.

"Ah cousin," I heard a feminine voice call out and upon hearing the voice my head turned abruptly to the direction of the voice and then I saw her. She had raven black hair, sky blue eyes and pale ivory skin and was wearing the most fabulous black and red dress I'd ever seen and she was walking over to me. Well that's half a job done and half a job failed.

Once she stood by my side she began to speak again, "Thank you for keeping my cousin company Sir," She spoke to the man who still had his hand on my upper arm, "But now that I am here I believe she is no longer in need of your company," Her voice which originally was soft and compliant of any woman in this room and now become more natural almost steely.

I could feel the man's grip tighten and I knew who was about to say something but for whatever reason after he made eye contact with my ravenette saviour he let go of my arm completely and walked off without another word. My first reaction was to rub at my arm, even if I knew it would heal within a minute or two.

"I Apologise for the cousin lie but I can tell when a woman is uncomfortable." She spoke to me with a kindness I knew would be there if she knew who I actually was. "My name is Miss Ives," She spoke again with a slight bit more formality, extending out a hand for me to shake and suddenly I was grateful to the creme gloves I was wearing because if I weren't she'd probably be able to sense exactly what I was.

"No apologies needed, It's a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Ives." I spoke with the same slight formality as she but then I soon thought of the implications of my words and I began to internally kick myself for making such a slip up, my mother was going to kill me if I messed this up.

"To finally meet me?" She looked at my with a smile and odd confusement in her expression. "Why have we been intending to meet one another before today?" She asked me curiously with a slight chuckle to her voice which was somewhere between being eerie and joyful.

"Not at all, I simply meant that," I paused for a moment to think of a better excuse for my slip up, "I've heard your name on people's lips before, it's nice to put a face to the name, Miss Ives." I said coming up with something that I thought was a decent enough excuse that would hopefully appease her curiosity.

"Oh, I didn't know I was a topic of gossip," She spoke again and though she was trying to feign ignorance I could tell she had noticed my slip up by the way her eyes looked at me and how her pupils darkened with triumph at her victory.

"Well anyway would you care for a dance?" She asked me her tone lighter with an undertone of something that was perhaps mischief, as she gave a slightly bow and extended out hand, facing upwards, to me.

"Well people do like to talk," I was very quickly scanning the ballroom for a quick escaped to the exit and when I found it I took my chances, "I must be going Miss Ives, good evening." I said the formal goodbye and quickly left through the small gap that had been left to the exit and retrieved my own cloak and quickly began to set off back up to the manor we were staying in that was slight ways away.

As I walked under the nights dark sky at a brisk pace, I thought of how I knew my mother would be anything but pleased at what she would see as a display of my incompetence at not completely her 'simple' task but I also thought about how what she didn't know couldn't hurt her, a policy I very much enjoyed using with my mother. Though if she were to ever find out I knew I'd probably be crucified upside down with no last words being allowed.

Not long later I made up back to our home, a manor that was slightly outside of central London. I walked up the stone steps that led to the large front doors which i opened with a heavy gust of wind which came when I turned my wrist in just the right way and I walked inside oblivious to anything else as I took my cloak off and threw it somewhere I didn't care to check.

As I walked further into the foyer at the front of the manner, I started ragging the gloves of my arms and unpinning the mass of my that sat atop my head. It felt euphoric when my hair cascaded down my back because finally all the weight was off the crown of my head and sighed out in a pleased way not caring for all the bobby pins that were fall the marble floor and making a clattering sound.

For a moment all I thought I could hear was the clattering of my bobby pins on the floor, which was a lovely relief because it meant that my mother possibly my sisters weren't in the manor or they were at least asleep, either way I was happy to not be bothered by any of them.

As I just about started to walk up the overly elaborate staircase upstairs, I heard a bang and then a mumble and quickly whipped my body around to the direction of the sound which just happened to be the front doors and then I saw her, Vanessa, well this is just fabulous.

"Miss Ives, what on earth are you doing here?" I asked feigning confusion and innocence as I walked down the few steps I had just walked up. I then walked over to where Vanessa was, in the middle of the foyer, taking in her surroundings of the dark and quietly frankly disturbing manor.

"You never told me your name," She began to say, the meaning behind her voice was obviously detached from what she was saying to me as she was to focused on surveying her new surroundings. "What possible reason do you have for being here?" She asked me finally making eye contact and her steely gaze was hardened and distrusting.

She must be able to feel the aura of the manor, Hell she probably had a pretty good idea about who lived here which meant she probably knew what I was. "Miss Ives I know how it may look but..." I began to say to Vanessa before I heard the creaking of floorboards coming from upstairs and as the noise grew closer the sound of footsteps accompanied it.

A horrible sense of dread filled my chest because I knew that it was just the wind or if it was a person, as I suspected it was, it wasn't one of my sisters, it was my mother. I didn't have much time to think and I'm not sure what compelled me to do it but I quickly faced Vanessa agin and twisted my wrist in her direction and a gust of with pushed her against one of the far walls and quickly I consumed her in enough mist to make her invisible.

Just as I turned back around to face the staircase but before I was able to regain my composure, my mother was at the top of the staircase in one of her robes and her hair pinned. "Oh mother, hello," I spoke trying calm my voice down as to not give anything away.

"Y/N you've returned, I assume the task I sent you on was a success then." She phrased it in a way that anyone would think it was meant as a question but I knew she didn't mean it as one, she never did.

"Yes mother," I spoke with my head bowed, lying through the skin of my teeth, praying she wouldn't notice my lie. "Lucifer's bride had a bit of a manic episode at the party and fainted," I explained to my mother whilst trying to come up with a believable lie, we were expected to refer to Vanessa as Lucifer's bride, the thought always made my skin crawl but I'd never let it show.

"Good, I'm pleased to hear," I eternally sighed of relief when my mother spoke like she had know idea that I had lied to her and I was grateful for it. "Well I shall retire for night now," She then finished saying as she walked back the way she came and the sound of her footsteps soon disappeared completely.

Once my mother was gone I couldn't even give myself a moment to enjoy my victory as I know Vanessa was still stuck the wall and covered in mist. I quickly ran other to where I cast her off and released from my nightwalker magic, to which she fell from the wall gasping for breath.

"Miss Ives," I quickly got down on the floor as she was still gasping, "Miss Ives you must leave, if my mother or sisters find you here you will never leave," I tried to encourage her off the floor and I eventually got her to her feet but she wasn't leaving. "Listen, I understand your in shock and still recovering but you have to leave right now," I kept urgently encouraging her to leave but it wasn't quite working. "Vanessa!" I shouted her name and this finally snapped her out of wherever she'd been in her head, she made eye contact with me once before running out of the manner and disappearing and all I could do was finally sigh in relief. What a night. __________________________________ So I've had to split this request into two parts because it was getting a little long. Anyway, thank you all for reading, I hope you all enjoyed and until next time fellow readers.

Tag List @ateliefloresdaprimavera @cissyenthusiast010155 @multifandomfix @multimilfs

#Vanessa Ives #Penny Dreadful #horror show #evelyn poole #season 2 #eva green #helen mccrory #Vanessa #eva green story #fantasy #eva green gifs #eva green x reader #vanessa ives x reader #actress #eva green x fem #wlw #lesbian #nightwalkers #witches #victorian london #victorian #victorian era

[zombiebluejay]

"Dae In The Life"

Characters mentioned/ Daemon Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Fem OC.

*18+/crack fic(this is just for the jokes man)/slight smut but not too much*

A day of Daemon Targaryen, his little tasks and his little self.

Word count: 1.2k

The day started as it usually did, with Daemon Targaryen waking up on the couch in the bedchamber at Dragonstone and Rhaenyra sleeping in the exact middle of the lumpy king sized bed. His lovely familial bride is still asleep. Rain puttered down hitting every inch of the carved stone of the castle.

He woke up with a start, unaware of the penis drawn upon his forehead. And no one working in the castle planned on telling him either. Grumbling, he sat up and rubbed his old, tired eyes and got up.

In his nightdress and hat, he sleepily walked to the chamber aside from the room, filled with an abundance of rank and stinky pots.

“Damn” he thought, “I wish toilets existed in this time in history”. But the gods all hated him, so toilets wouldn't be invented for a long time.

The man looked in the warped, fuzzy mirror he had hidden behind an issue of "hot dragons weekly" that his incestuous spouse had hidden, lest he give in more to unworthy vanities. He looked at his enormous chin, and realized he had grown a single hair over the night. It was an inch long and white, not unlike something else protruding from his body. His face would look surprised, unfortunately you wouldn't be able to tell, as he lacked eyebrows.

After he was done getting ready for the day, changing from his sweaty, slept in night wear, into a pair of trousers which were just a bit to short and his dragon shit crusted boots, he realized he was clean shirtless, and thus he began his quest down to his wife's teenage son's chambers, in hopes of finding one that would fit him. He crept through stone hallways, a chill grabbing onto his tiny nipples.

Once at the tall wooden door, he rapped upon it. With no answer, he tip tied in and shuffled around the drawer. With luck, he found one that seemed close to his size though his belly button poked through and the sleeves came down only to his mid forearms.

Thus it was time to set out for the day. He saddled up Caraxes, and took off to run his daily errands.

Caraxes landed landed on the edge of a green forest, still damp from the mornings rain, ten paces away from a small cottage, little figurines strewn about the door, one of which looked like king Viserys, ass out, full moon.

The long haired no longer twink walked slowly up to the small round door, and with a rap-tap-tap and a few seconds wait a very small woman waddled out the door. Wearing a purple robe with stars adorning it, she greeted him with a toothless grin, making the man blush.

"Hello Daemon, I was wondering when you'd finally drop by you old soggy sod. Doing your little chores for your lady wife hm?" She attempted a wink but both eyes shut.

"Hello Grunhilda" he sighed, remembering the drunken make out session the two had many years prior, back when she still has a couple teeth left. "I'm here to pick up Rhaenyra's order".

"Right this way then, my prince".

She led him into her house and pulled out a small metal tube with a red crystal on top.

"Tell her majesty I worked very hard on this for her. It'll work by putting this small jar of captured lightning in this small cut out on the side. These devices are hard to make these days, one day they'll be very prevalent, I know I saw it in the orb. Now you'd better be on your way, another important person is stopping by at any moment."

After a quick stop and a hasty goodbye, the man was shooed out the door. Once back to his dragon, hidden by fog, he could see a carriage pull up. Squinting to see who just stopped by, he could make out the form of Otto Hightower step out and knock as he did. With an eye roll he decided to take off, as he had a few more errands to run.

After a few hours of picking out breads and cheeses and apples and all such other things adorning Rhaenyra's intricate grocery list, the man with the protruding chun found a decent view to enjoy the lunch his wife had packed him and left on the counter for the day. He opened up a brown bag, filled with a sandwich filled with the leftover meats of the previous supper and three slices of cucumber, an apple with a smiley face carved into it with the thumb nail of his recently pregnant spouse and two pieces of toffee candy flavored with citrus. They were his least favorite from the multi flavor pack but they were his daughters favorite, so he ate them happily.

The man looked at the magical crystal wand visible in his open satchel, and looked around. It was a scenic view, a deep drop into a waterfall filled casam surrounded by deep green forests. It was quiet except for the wildlife and water. He grabbed the object from the bag, looking it over carefully. He put in a small bottle of captured lightning as the woman had told him and burst to life with buzzing.

Slowly, he undid his belt and buttons and with a touch onto his, as Rhaenyra called it "semi satisfactory" sized penis, he let out a high pitched needy yelp, closed his eye tightly and his lower cheeks squeezed in, almost immediately, and for the first time since Rhaenyra decided she wanted to try again for another child, he unleashed a mighty 6 drops of slightly yellowish cum from his itchy cock. He winced not unlike one may imagine the shunga girls would, a high pitched scream of pleasure and pain.

He sat there in shock for a quarter hour, unspeaking, unmoving, he understood his wife's purchase.

Knees cracking, he stood up, feeling a rush of serotonin shoot into his brain, he had a few more tasks yet to do.

He flew down back into the nearest town, hauling a large cotton sack filled with the chamises, night gowns, stockings, shirts and breaches of his large family, into a large open room filled with steaming soapy cauldrons with washboards. On the other side of the building were many strings of washing lines with hand cranks to spin out the washings to dry it by the breeze it generates. All a very elaborate contraption created by his brother in law/nephew Aemond.

The man sighed, and got to work scrubbing, rinsing, drying and folding all the garments in the sack his family had entrusted him with. All the blood stains from a past trauma of many kinds. War, childbirth. And happy blood too. Remnants of scraped knees from the small amounts of childhood play their children got the rare opportunity to have before life caught up with them so early.

He smiled with a small tear forming in his eye, realizing he had to get back soon to the family he cared for.

Loading up his sack, he climbed on the back of his beloved dragon, flying towards the now setting sun, he decided to take a minute to watch it go down, landing on a cliff top with his castle home in the furthest visible difference.

Just then an old man did the same, climbing up the hill to take in the sea breeze, he had a big bushy gray beard, a robe and walking staff as tall as his hunched over back may have been in the days of youth.

The man looked at the prince, took in a breath and gave a small gnarly giggle, showing the few teeth he had left.

"You know son" the old man spoke, "you've got a cock drawn on your face".

#hotd #house of the dragon #Daemon Targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #Aemond Targaryen #fic #fanfic #HotD fic #hbo hotd #fantasy #writers on tumblr #daemon fic #crack fics #daemon smut #kinda #Daemon fanfic #got #game of thrones #daedae Targaryen #comedy fics #lilah writes fanfic ʕ⁠ ⁠º⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠ ⁠º⁠ʔ

[starshipsofstarlord]

Stuck in 1903

Part Two

Masterlist

Summary: Damon and Bonnie had come to your rescue, or so you thought, but it is Kai’s every intention to get close to you again

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Warnings: angst, smidge of fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of death, mentions of murder, bad friendships, mentions of poison, swearing

Word Count: 2052

Find Part One Here

divider by @firefly-graphics

If the Other Side continued to exist, then you would be there rather than this subordinate prison world which had been designed for one bad witch. Kai's own kind feared him, you had experienced him mentally draining your energy, he was a chore to put up with, but he could do much more than that, you had learnt from Bonnie. He fed off magic, physically stealing it from bodies and items that harboured any of it, which had poisoned his mind to hunt for power. Your friends had informed you that he had murdered his siblings, well some of them anyway, and had attempted to do so to more of them. And now you knew, with supporting evidence, never to trust Malakai Parker.

Without Damon and Bonnie you had to resort to fending for yourself, which was not at all difficult since this version of Mystic Falls that you were trapped in was quite literally a ghost town. The forever enveloping silence was torture, though the method of ignorance had not been designed for you; it was all for Kai, and that unsettled you. There was one more thing that you had been dreading - the possibility that you could not escape from the remote isolation without the aid of the guest starring siphon himself. This hell was built to contain him for eternity, but now there was magic that he could use to his own advantage nearby.

Your cheek rested upon the side of your hand, mushing the flesh whilst your elbow was poised upon the countertop of the kitchen island in the Salvatore house. All of your concentration validated your deep thoughts, of which you were broken from as a plate was placed directly in front of you, a pancake decorated with chocolate chips and syrup to form a smiley face. Damon was the culprit as he threw a tea towel over his shoulder, expectedly looking at you.

"I'm not hungry." You informed the vampire, who simply frowned at your lack of an appetite. "I ate yesterday, which was technically today." Beneath the table, you crossed your ankles, as you earnt a sigh from your well aged friend; he clearly was not impressed by your behaviour. But you didn't know what he had expected from you, you had been trapped here for longer than you could remember, and alone until you had discovered the man that had been outcast by his own family. At the time you had not known of his murderous tendencies, and had wanted nothing more than to get away from him, and you wouldn't like to admit it but you even missed him a little.

He was annoying and cocky, and withheld crucial information from you, though there was something that contradicted that all. Whenever any one of your friends had suffered the fate of death, they were always attempted to be brought back to life against the natural order of things. It made you wonder and doubt a little if they had even tried to resurrect you. In this separated reality, there was no jurisdiction so that you could know, though each time that either Damon or Bonnie looked at you, you could swear that there was guilt written in their gazes.

"Look I knew being stuck here with Kai must have fucked you up-" he should have bit his lip, his assumptions were anything but correct. And that was proven as you defensively darted out of your seat and jabbed your finger in his face, making him pivot his jaw back. There were many things that were 'fucked up', and supposing that you were one of them because you had died after sacrificing yourself to ensure that they all continued to live just didn't settle right with you. The context of the morbid situation did not help with condoning any reassurance at all, in fact, it gave a spine to your lack of faith in him and the others in the first place. Out of everyone, it was inherently worse to be here with Damon, all he had cared about was his precious Elena as well as himself, and after existing for well over a century, that was insurance that he was never going to change.

"It wasn't him who did that to me, it was roaming this damned place by myself, I had no one. And as crazy as it sounds, I think spending time with the notorious Malakai Parker helped me keep what was to spare of my sanity. If I'm not wrong, I may even say that I've found more being here than dealing with the bullshit y'all cause back home." Perhaps your words were a tad harsh, if Bonnie were in the room you were sure that she'd have a somewhat understanding of what you were saying. Though she was not, and thus you had to deal with the harshness of her best friend all by your lonesome. And it seemed that you had rattled him, apparently he couldn't handle the truth.

"Then why don't you run back to the sociopath? When we discovered that you were here, we found the pair of you attached to the hip anyways. And with him inside of you, I'd never seen you so darn happy, better here with him than tempting me to drink bleach from the way that you constantly complained when you were alive; I swear you were worse than Donovan." It was on your mind's own command for you to take a step back, and away from the toxin that Damon had so cruelly spat at you. Ans the way that he compared you to Matt made you angry; it was though he were ignoring that there were valid reasons for the blond to be the way that he was - after all, the monster before you had practically killed his sister. A laugh renegaded out from your mouth as you realised that you had been right all along, none of them cared. You were just a burden that stopped them from having a perfect life together. If this were a book, then this would be the beginning to your villain arc, and ironically enough Damon saw himself as one of the good guys. Now that was utterly ridiculous after every reckless thing that he had ever done!

"Have it your way then bloodsucker." All along, you should have trusted your guy, and from now on you knew that you would listen to it. And strangely enough, it was calling you to Kai, maybe it was because he was your last resort to escaping this imprisonment that had been meant for him alone. Turning on your heel, you heard Damon flop the towel down on the side and sigh, though you continued to walk, appeasing your better judgement elsewhere. "Wait." He tried to convince you to stay, belatedly understanding the mistake that he had made, but it was no use, you were already on your journey of getting as far away as possible from him.

The Mystic Grill, it remained to be familiar in your eyes as you entered. It was empty and void of drunken assholes and narcissists that you had wasted too much time on. The only person that you missed in the modern alternative was Matt Donovan, he was the only person that didn't treat you as though you were invisible or a nuisance. You wondered how he was coping with your absence, knowing him, he was probably relieved that Damon was gone. But you weren't, because he was here with you instead. Trailing your fingertips over the counter of the bar, out of the corner of your eye you saw a lonely glass of bourbon that was sat there as though it were lamenting you with mockery. You tried to hold your sentimental sob inside, but it was practically impossible. It tore through your body, bellowing out from your mouth as you stifled and fought through your tears.

A hand caressed the landscape of your back causing you to jump and flinch from the unexpected contact. One thing that you had learnt from evading and eventually experiencing the qualms of death, was that you could never be too careful. For no more than a second you had predicted that the intruder to your pity party was Damon, that he had followed you as you tried to distance yourself from him, but alas it was not, instead of being greeted by a fretless vampire, you were condemned by the sight of a powerless witch, of whom had purposely interjected your moment of cracked emotion and wore a brave smile for you. Wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeves, you couldn't help but snap at him. "If you're here to finish what we started then tough luck Parker, you've been here long enough and you have two hands, figure something else out."

His tongue darted out to swipe at his own bottom lip, as he raised his hand, showcasing his offering to you. "I was only going to see if you wanted a pork rind, you look like you could use one." Sighing, you dug your hand into the pungent packet that was littered with dust and crumbs, retrieving a few treats for yourself as you placed them in your mouth. "And now should be when the poison kicks in..." With your hand, you gave him a little shove as you tolled your eyes at his homicidal comedy. "Come on, that was funny! I'm funny!"

"If you say so, there's not very many people around to give you an honest opinion." It was true, the only other human like lifeforms impartially close by were Damon and Bonnie, and well, you weren't going to scurry back to them anytime soon. "And if you had poisoned me, then you would know that I would be fine and dandy in not so long, It wouldn't make a difference if that wasn't the case either, I mean I'm already dead, what could be worse than that?" Kai looked at you with shock; he didn't know that about you, that you had actually suffered a final breath. Now he thought about it, the grand scheme of things he didn't know much about you in general, though he was prepared to learn. He had often found death to be fulfilling, satisfying even, but he'd never thought about its victims being so beautiful. Yet here you were before him, by chance the one force that could motivate and help him find a way out of this jarring hole of reaping misery.

"You're here, that's all that matters." As soon as those words fled from his lips he realised exactly what he had said, and a blush framed his features. "I um - that wasn't what I - you know, yeah..." He scratched the back of his neck as you shook your head at this new side that you were seeing of Malakai. His parents called him Malakai, of course he was going to become a killer, but right now you saw nothing more than an embarrassed boy whose skin had flushed as an affect of his own words. From your experience, everyone was either the killer or the killed - you two were one of each. Like ying and yang, you fit perfectly, it was a balanced divide that was settled on whichever rhythm played out in the air. And to correspond with that thought you walked over to the jukebox, a song beginning to play which made Kai want to cover his ears. "I hate this song." He told you; he really did, if he could murder it, he would without a doubt.

"Then don't listen, just dance with me." You extended your hands out to him, to which he begrudgingly reached for. And as he snapped his eyes open, he realised that was all a memory, and that goddamn song was still playing. All he could think about was you, he had seen how upset you had been to die, and yet you were gone again, and it was all down to your so called friends. One was standing before him as he sat in chains, imprisoned against a chair. "Are you here to punish me?" He asked Bonnie, wanting nothing more than shut his eyes and see your face again.

#kai parker one shot #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #kai x y/n #kai x you #kai imagine #kai parker x you #kai parker #kai parker fic #kai parker fanfic #kai parker angst #kai parker fluff #tvdreader #tvd imagines #tvdimagine #tvd imagine #tvd one shot #tvd fanfiction #tvd x reader #vampire diaries x reader

[hwascripts]

What Izuku would be like in a relationship: The positive traits, the toxic traits, his love language, my own personal headcanons and an overall conclusion

WC: unknown

TW// POTENTIAL SPOILERS, No smut but Izuku is aged up, Toxic traits aren’t necessarily toxic...more so just bad traits, Teeny tiny little bit of angst, I think that’s it!

Masterlist

Disclaimer: I am in no way claiming the following headcanons are true. You are 100% free to disagree with me but please DO NOT send me hateful comments or asks. I am simply writing what I think Deku would be like in a relationship

a/n: Just to let you know, your nickname for him is Zuku just so you don’t think I kept spelling his name wrong.

-Deku is literally the kindest soul ever and it makes me want to cry. He’d give you his umbrella if you ever forgot yours, he’d literally carry you to first aid if you ever injure yourself- this man will legitimately do everything for you

-He’s incredibly observant. If he catches you looking at a pretty ring then he’ll literally show up at your door days later with that very same ring in his hands

“I saw you looking at it a few days ago and I wanted to surprise you!”

“Zuku baby oh my god how much did you spend?!”

“You don’t need to worry about it sunshine”

I wholeheartedly believe Izuku would call you his sunshine or something along those lines

-I have this one headcanon of him drawing you all the time as an excuse to “observe you and your quirk” but it’s really just because he wants to admire the way you shine underneath the sun- and that’s how he came up with the name Sunshine for you

-Deku has a heart of gold oh my god, this guy cares so much about you it’s unreal. Imagine trying to hide the fact that you’ve been crying while on a phone call- mission failed because he heard your shaky voice and now he’s on your doorstep with your favourite hoodie of his and your favourite snacks

-His memory is insanely good, like it’s freaky how good it is. Like you mentioned to him ONCE that you liked a certain drink and now he pulls up to your dates with that drink all the time (not like I’d complain if Deku brought me my favourite drink)

-Just like Bakugou, Deku is incredibly smart and he literally always comes up with a solution. You could literally vent to him about a problem you’re having at work and he’s come up with at least 73 solutions within 6 hours

-He’s determined and hardworking. Again, he’s just like Bakugou in the sense that he’ll put his blood, sweat and tears into whatever he’s doing- no matter if it’s a serious high stake mission or something like planning your weekly date. The second he puts his mind to something, he makes sure to give it his all.

-Izuku is your own personal cheerleader, this dude will hype you up no matter what. Training after work? he’s cheering for you. You completed a really difficult task? you better believe he’s gonna pat you on the back for it.

-He’s very protective of you. Remember when the LOV attacked the training camp and he rushed to find Kota? yeah he’s 10x more protective of you.

-And it’s not because he thinks you’re weak and can’t defend yourself, it’s because he genuinely worries about you all the time and just wants to make sure your always safe

-He’s an inspirational person, he makes you hella motivated to do even the most boring chores around the house

-Deku isn’t afraid to show his emotions. Unlike Bakugou, he’s often seen showing his emotions. Deku said “toxic masculinity who?”. He definitely gives 0 fucks if someone sees him crying/upset because I feel like Pro-Hero Deku would stop the stupid mindset of “Hero’s can’t show their genuine emotions”

-Izuku is the type of person to analyze all his losses, figure out what he did wrong and then learn from it to make sure he doesn’t make the same mistake again. He’s the complete opposite of Bakugou who gets bitter over his losses due to his superiority complex.

-He’s so good at comforting you that it’s unbelievable. Deku gives the warmest hugs that make you feel so safe- you literally cannot change my mind about this

-You know those hugs where the other person lightly rubs your back and lightly sways side to side with you? Yeah those are the hugs that Deku gives (he’d definitely give you a sweet little kiss on the forehead/cheek)

“Sunshine come here, let me hold you while you let out all your frustrations. I’ve got you, nothing can hurt you while you’re here with me”

-Can you tell I want some comforting Izuku hugs? He wouldn’t let go of you until he put a smile back on your face and GAHH oh my god I need Izuku hugs

-As much as I hate to do this, it needs to be done 😔✊🏻

-Izuku is such an over thinker, this guy worries about EVERYTHING under the sun. Your eyes didnt crinkle when you smiled? he’ll think you’re upset with him. You gave him a side hug rather than a normal hug? he’ll think he did something wrong.

-He’s self aware that he overthinks things but he just can’t seem to stop his thoughts. No matter how many times you reassure him that you aren’t upset with him, he’s subconsciously thinking about how to make it up to you

-He constantly pushes himself past his limits. You guys saw how many times he’s broken his bones. Deku may be intelligent but when it comes to his own self he can be completely hopeless

-The amount of times you’ve scolded him while you clean up his scrapes and cuts is insane. He just sits on the toilet lid and bites his lip nervously while you wave your finger angrily at him

“Sunshine please, I said I was sorry and that it won’t happen again!”

“Zuku you and I both know that’s a damn lie, I’ve had to patch you up 3 times this week! When are you going to start being more considerate of your limits?”

-I’m sorry but I picture him being so nervous to initiate anything with you. This guy would be so fidgety just by THINKING about holding your hand

-And deep down he knows he’s being ridiculous because come on, you’re his S/O and he’s been dating you for years now- why does he still get shaken up just by holding your hand?

-At first you think it’s cute, he’s just being respectful of your boundaries- but as time goes on you kind of get a little annoyed because he always asks you a bunch of times if you’re okay with him being affectionate.

“Zuku...sweetheart you know you don’t need to ask me a million times if I want to cuddle, right? I love cuddling with you!”

*cue sweating* “I’ll keep that in mind, Sunshine”

-He eventually gets a lot more comfortable with affection...more often than not you wake up with him nuzzled into your side like a cat

(Side note PLEASE wake him up with a bunch of kisses, he’ll literally melt)

-He’s very insecure about his scars because they make him feel like he’s “ugly” and sometimes he doesn’t even want you to look at them

-Do me a favour and please kiss along his scars/ trace them with your fingers while you compliment him- he’ll start crying because the scars he thought made him ugly are now starting to look beautiful to him

-This isn’t necessarily a toxic trait, more like a bad habit. Whenever Izuku gets stressed he’ll train himself to the brink of exhaustion just so he can try to focus on something other than how stressed he is

-Again, not a toxic trait but a bad one...Deku puts everyone else before himself. Which isn’t a bad thing if it’s done in a healthy amount, but Izuku goes to the extreme. I feel like he’d neglect his own needs just to satisfy everyone else and you’d have to intervene before it gets worse

“Sunshine I said I was fine, you don’t need to worry about me! Your Zuku is perfectly energized and ready to go”

“Zuku don’t lie to me, you know I can read you like a book. You’re coming with me and I’m putting you to bed”

-I hate to say it but this guy hates confrontation so much that sometimes he’ll suffer in silence for MONTHS before he even hints at being upset with something

-I honestly think your biggest argument with him would be about his lack of communication in terms of him not being completely honest about how he feels and he just breaks down-

-Like he has a really bad breakdown because he’s been bottling everything up for so long because he hates the idea of fighting with you.

-And now he’s sobbing because he’s so frustrated that he doesn’t know what else to do

-Anyways, the two of you just silently comfort each other until you’ve both calmed down enough to talk properly. This is the night Izuku finally starts opening up to you rather than bottling up every negative emotion he feels

-I honestly think his love language is a mixture of giving you gifts and words of praise

-He’s a little shy when it comes to showing you how he feels through affection, so giving you gifts and his praise get his point across

-He’s totally the type to send you cute messages throughout the day, send cute selfies when he misses you, or he just sends you a random bouquet of flowers because he saw them and thought of you

-Also the type of guy to have photos of the two of you displayed around his office. His most prized one being the photo of your first mission together

-Just warning you now that if you ever mention that your suit ripped or a certain item isn’t functioning properly then he’ll literally buy 10 replacements- each one better than the last

“Zuku I said that the sole of my BOOT ripped off, not my entire suit!”

“Well now you have 10 new upgraded suits to make sure it won’t happen again! Isn’t it great, Sunshine?”

(Someone take his credit card away from him)

I definitely think Izuku would be an amazing S/O! He’s caring, kind and comforting- and he does his very best to try and work on the bad habits he has.

Overall, I would say Izuku definitely would win a “S/O of the year award” (sorry Bakugou)

#izuku midoria x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #deku angst #deku fluff #deku headcanons #my hero academia headcanons #bnha headcanons #bakugou angst #bakugou fluff #bakugou hcs #bakugou headcanons #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha deku x reader #mha deku x reader #todoroki fluff #todoroki angst #kirishima x reader #denki x reader #kirishima headcanon #denki headcanons #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki headcanons #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki x reader #bnha shinso x reader

[heart-of-gold-outlaw]

Welcome Home | Chapter Ten: Still Breathing

Finally—finally—, the day comes to rescue Sean. You honestly don’t know what to expect. Most of the others in camp aren’t much help, referring to Sean with a roll of their eyes and something along the lines of: “half a mind to let the bounty hunters keep him.”

They should be saying that about Micah, you think to yourself as you watch Charles and Arthur saddle their horses. Maybe then Dutch’ll kick him out.

Still, Sean is a bit of a wildcard to you. You won’t figure out what he’s really like until you meet him, and until then, you decide to keep an open mind. Worst case scenario? He’s Micah’s long-lost brother. Best case scenario? He’s… well. Maybe it’s best not to think about all the things he could be. Keep yourself on your toes.

You sit on a tree stump while the boys get ready. Taima is an absolute beauty of a horse, and you can tell by the way Charles dotes on her that she’s got a good life. Briefly, thoughts of having a horse of your own cross your mind. That appaloosa gelding is probably still for sale in Valentine. Maybe if you can get enough money, you can buy him.

Arthur and Charles take their sweet time packing more than enough ammo, which means you quickly get bored. Every scratchy detail on the tree stump bothers you, too. Hopping to your feet, you decide to get some chores done. Everyone’s been so preoccupied with the big upcoming rescue, they’ve neglected some of the finer details in camp.

The ax is in its usual spot, surrounded by whole logs that need to be chopped. You grab ahold of the handle. It feels lighter than it used to, and you realize you’re getting stronger.

Goodbye noodle arms, you think as you bring the ax down on to the first log. You don’t quite split it, but it’s getting closer than ever. And hello Jack Lumber.

A few chops in, you feel the muscles in the back of your neck tense. Someone’s behind you, and you’re not quite sure who. But soon enough, a low, sinister chuckle reaches your ears. Micah.

“Well,” he says. “Looks like the camp nuisance is finally doing some work.”

You slowly count to three before turning around. Micah stands by you, a little too close for your liking, and he’s got a smirk on his face that twists your gut something awful. You’ve started wearing a gun belt, and the hand that isn’t holding the ax inadvertently twitches toward your revolver.

“You know something, Y/N?” He takes a step toward you. “I think you’re starting to wear out your welcome.”

Fire ignites in your chest. No. No. Micah doesn’t get to do this, try and make you second-guess yourself and your place in the gang—especially not after you’ve just started feeling comfortable.

“Back off, you useless mineral,” you hiss.

Micah’s lips curl into a snarl as he takes another step toward you. This one feels infinitely more threatening, and you barely keep yourself from taking a step back. You’ll be damned if Micah wins this fight.

“Take another step,” you warn, “and I’ll jump rope with your intestines.”

Honestly, you don’t really expect him to feel threatened, but the odd choice in words is enough to throw him off. You can see him trying to process everything you said, which gives you enough time to throw the ax down and skedaddle.

Your heart thuds frantically in your chest as you hurry to Arthur and Charles. Micah won’t try anything if you’re with them; that much, you know for sure.

“We ready to go?” You ask as nonchalantly as you can. “If I chop one more piece of wood, I’ll have to start wearing flannel.”

Charles looks confused at “flannel,” but Arthur frowns as he glances over at the chopping block. His expression hardens when he sees Micah storming away.

“Micah giving you trouble?” He asks, a hint of something dangerous in his voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” You go to lean against the hitching post, miss, and almost topple over. Face burning, you settle for folding your arms over your chest.

Arthur and Charles exchange looks.

“If he tries anything,” Charles tells you, calm and steady, “let us know. We’ll take care of it.”

We’ll take care of it. How a statement so simple and so general can sound that dangerous, you’ll never know. You wordlessly nod, not knowing how to respond.

Charles leaves, then, to go saddle Taima. You look to Arthur, ready to follow him to Florence, who’s already tacked up and ready. But he doesn’t move.

“Micah been buggin’ you a lot?”

You shake your head. “Not really. I mean, he gave me a hard time when I was cleaning up Pearson’s wagon a while ago, but Hosea scared him off.”

Arthur turns to look at you. “And today?”

“Oh.” You think back to the confrontation. “Well, he called me the ‘camp nuisance’ and said I was starting to wear out my welcome.”

A glint of fury flashes through Arthur’s eyes as he throws a glare in Micah’s general direction. You shiver involuntarily. Thank goodness you’re not on a certain cowboy’s bad side.

“I’ve been called worse, to be honest,” you say with a shrug, and smile slightly when Arthur looks at you again. “I’m kinda used to it.”

He gives you a troubled frown instead of sharing your nonchalance. Confused, you feel your smile waver a little.

“What?” You ask.

“You…” Arthur begins, trails off, then continues: “You know it ain’t true, right?”

“What isn’t?”

“The part about being a nuisance. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either.”

Something pulls at your heart, something strong, and you’re suddenly at a loss for words. You’ve had so many doors slammed in your face, so many people come and go, never staying, never even wanting to stay… And you couldn’t do anything but watch them leave.

“Oh,” is all you manage around a tight throat.

Arthur looks at you some more. His eyes are soft now, soft and full of what you think is understanding. He reaches out, maybe to put a hand on your shoulder, but apparently thinks better of it and instead motions for you to follow him. You trail a little behind as he walks toward Florence. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either. Did… did Arthur really mean that? Does that mean the rest of the gang, minus Micah, feels the same way? You can’t help but shake your head in wonder. You don’t think you’ll ever understand these people.

Once you catch up, Arthur easily swings himself on top of Florence, then hauls you into the saddle behind him. You’re starting to get used to horseback. Florence may be absolutely massive, but you don’t feel so unsteady anymore. In fact, you might actually like riding.

“We’re meeting up with Javier just outside of Blackwater,” Charles says as he brings Taima over. “Trelawney thinks the bounty hunters will bring Sean upriver.”

Arthur nods and sets a steady trot out of camp. “Good. We can probably cut ‘em off when they reach the border. I think there’s a canyon that’ll give us some decent cover.”

“Any luck, we’ll take them by surprise.” Charles urges Taima into a canter, which Florence matches. “How many do you think there’ll be?”

“For Sean?” Arthur laughs, and you try not to look too enamored. “Any pair of fools could handle him. But there’ll be a lot of ‘em, no doubt.”

Charles hums in thought, but doesn’t say anything else. Much of the ride passes in comfortable silence. Although you want to focus on admiring the scenery and marvel at the lack of, well, everything, you find yourself thinking about the upcoming fight. You may not know a lot about the past, but you’ve seen enough Westerns to know bounty hunters always put up a hell of a fight. That, and they always keep coming right when you think you’ve killed them all.

Your revolver suddenly feels heavy in its holster. You bite your lip, a little unsure. Yes, you’ve used it once at Six Point Cabin, and yes, you’ve managed to hit a few bottles, but those were honestly lucky shots. And neither of them were shooting back.

Bounty hunters, though? Different story. For as much bravado as you showed Dutch during his little tirade, you have to admit that you’re a little nervous. It’ll be your first real gunfight. You’ll have Arthur and Charles looking out for you, but you can’t help the anxiety knotting deep in your gut.

If I die, I die, you think. No going back now.

///

Conversation lags for the remainder of the ride. Eventually, after crossing a small river, you’re in what Arthur tells you is West Elizabeth. It looks… well, it looks like a perfect snapshot of a history textbook. Rolling hills and open land, bison… it’s absolutely stunning.

Off in the distance, you see two people looking over the edge of a cliff. You recognize Javier, but you don’t recognize the other man, with his mustache and mischievous eyes. He smiles when he sees Arthur and Charles, then peers at you curiously.

“And who might this be?” He asks as Arthur dismounts, leaving you alone atop Florence.

Your brain goes into a blue screen of death, and before you know what you’re doing, you say: “My name is an enigma and holds all the secrets of the universe.”

“That would be Y/N,” Arthur says, exasperated. He helps you down and grabs his rifle from the saddle. “Y/N, this is Josiah Trelawney.”

Trelawney bows with a flourish. “At your service, my dear.”

You instantly decide you like him. Waving hello to Javier, you approach the edge of the cliff, crouching low like everyone else.

“Sean?” Arthur asks as he looks down the scope of his rifle.

“I think he’s in that boat over there.” Javier gestures to a small vessel upriver. “Think they’re docking to take him further inland.”

Arthur turns the scope, then gives a hum of confirmation. “That’s him alright. Giving those bounty hunters hell.”

Trelawney nods and rises before mounting his horse. Setting a slow walk, he motions for everyone to follow him. Arthur helps you on to Florence, and then you’re off once more.

“If we do this right,” Trelawney says, “we can cut them off. Remember: we’re just innocent folk out for a ride on the trail. Let’s not draw their attention just yet.”

The five of you ride toward a canyon. Ahead, you can see the boat docked at the shore, along with several well-armed, intimidating bounty hunters standing guard. They don’t look like they’re in much of a mood to negotiate. In fact, they look ready to shoot on sight.

Everyone takes cover around the bend. Trelawney, odd man that he is, seems more preoccupied with his coat than the problem at hand.

“Now ain’t the time for a fashion statement,” Arthur drawls.

“Au contraire, my dear fellow,” Trelawney says with a smile. “Bounty hunters are even more gullible than hillbillies. I have to look the part if I’m going to make the proper distraction.”

Then, before any of you can say a word otherwise, Trelawney strides confidently toward the bounty hunters. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you just know he’s spinning a tale bigger than the Grizzlies. He waves his arms in a grandiose gesture. In another situation, you would have mistaken it for part of the act. But now, along with Arthur, Charles, and Javier, you recognize it for what it is: a signal.

Arthur fires a quick shot, striking one of the bounty hunters between the eyes. From there, it’s chaos. All you can hear is the sound of gunfire and shouting. You take cover behind a rock, firing your revolver without really trying to hit anything. You don’t know if any of your bullets find their marks. Honestly? Probably not.

“Let’s push up on ‘em,” Arthur commands.

You stick close by him as you make your way up the canyon. The bounty hunters have regrouped by now, which lets them put up more of a fight. A bullet whizzes by your ear—too close for you to ignore—and you yelp and duck further into cover.

Arthur quickly lays down some cover fire, then hauls you up and pulls you behind a larger rock. You don’t even have time to tell him thank you. The firefight picks up again, bullets flying, ricocheting, sometimes hitting their targets, sometimes hitting the canyon walls. It takes nearly all your self-control to keep a level head.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Javier reloading his guns, but also just barely peeking out of cover. You look up the canyon trail. There, off in the distance, half-hidden by gun smoke and dust, you can just barely make out the silhouette of a bounty hunter—and he’s aiming right at Javier.

You steel yourself. You’re not some useless coward who needs to be protected. You’re a member of the Van Der Linde Gang—an outlaw. And one of your own is in danger.

Your anxiety flees, replaced by determination. Edging ever-so-slightly out of cover, you fire off a shot toward the bounty hunter, then duck back behind the boulder. A pained yell tells you that you hit your mark, and it’s followed by silence.

Javier looks at the fallen bounty hunter, then at you. He nods his head in thanks. Smiling, you tip your fingers in a mock-salute, then follow Arthur as he pushes further up the canyon.

It doesn’t take long for your little group to reach a clearing. Right away, you see someone dangling upside down from a tree. He’s also surrounded by vicious-looking men who you would honestly rather avoid.

Well,you think to yourself. That must be Sean.

The bounty hunters have been expecting you, and they fire several warning shots into the tree line. You duck behind the trunk of a massive pine. To your right, you see Arthur considering the situation, trying to figure out the best approach. On your left, Javier and Charles wait on a signal. You don’t know what happened to Trelawney, but you think he’s alright.

“If we can get around them,” Arthur eventually says, “we can come at them from all sides.”

Javier grins. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Charles gives him a look. “Only the fish can shoot back.”

Arthur nods, then looks back toward the clearing. “Someone’s gotta get to Sean quick as they can. I got a feeling he’s gonna be bait.”

“I’ll do it,” you tell him. “There’s enough cover behind that tree he’s tied up in. I’ll be fine.”

For a long, long moment, Arthur looks uncertain. But when you give him a pleading look, silently begging him to let you prove yourself, he sighs and folds the cards.

“Alright,” he agrees. “Wait until you got a clear opening, then go for it.”

Everyone heads off in opposite directions, leaving you to prepare yourself for the sprint of the century. One by one, the boys shoot the bounty hunters, hitting each with impeccable aim. Then, almost before you’re ready, you spy the perfect opportunity.

Making a beeline for Sean, you dive behind the tree just as the bullets start flying again. You sit there for a few seconds, catching your breath. You can’t believe you’re still alive. All that time in open space, and not a single scratch on you.

“It’s over!” You hear one of the bounty hunters shout.

He sounds dangerously close to you. Peeking around the tree, you see him standing not a foot away, pointing his rifle at Sean.

Shit.

You duck back into hiding before you’re spotted. This is exactly what you didn’twant to happen, and it happened anyway. Wracking your brain for ideas, you look around for anything that could be of use.

Think think think think think think—

There’s a corpse not too far from you, and you spy a knife on its belt. Moving purely on instinct and adrenaline, you snatch it from its sheath, turn back to the bounty hunter, and shove it through his throat right in the middle of his next sentence. He stays on his feet for maybe a second longer, then collapses.

You slowly back away from him. Dimly, you realize that the fire fight is over, that everyone else is okay, but you can’t bring yourself to focus on that. All you can do is stare at the body on the ground… the man you just killed.

“You alright there, friend?” Sean asks, still upside down.

“Uh,” your voice sounds far away to your own ears, “yeah. I’m fine.”

After that, you have maybe five seconds before your stomach lurches. Doubling over, you heave violently for a while before coughing, spitting out the taste in your mouth, and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“Hiya Sean. I’m Y/N.”

//

Accompanying Music: Still Breathing | Green Day

Ko-Fi

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fic #welcome home

[lover-of-skellies]

-chanting quietly- Farmtale boys farmtale boys farmtale boys!💋

Can we get some first time smooches for our lovely Farmer boys?

I actually,, don't know much about farmtale paps, so I'm probably just gonna do farmer sans for this :P if anyone feels like giving me some more info on this version of paps, go for it! ^^

Your first kiss with Farm was something that you hadn't been expecting at all. Despite being the one who initiated it, it had still managed to catch both of you completely off guard. You'd been dating him for a little bit, but you'd always been shy when it came to shows of affection. Farm was aware of this, and while teasing you could be fun sometimes, he never pushed the issue. He was patient and laidback, and he never made you feel under any kind of pressure whatsoever.

When your first kiss with him happened, it was an early afternoon, and you were outside, helping him with chores. It was pretty warm out, and you found that it was almost impossible to find any decent amount of shade to relax in. Even doing some of the simplest things was causing you to work up a bit of a sweat, and you grumbled to yourself about it as you worked, a bit unhappy at the prospect of having to take yet another shower.

Farm had decided to take a small break, and you'd been attempting to pull weeds from the garden in his backyard. You struggled and struggled, letting a few curses slip at how this one particular weed was giving you so many problems. The damn thing almost acted like it was cemented into the ground, and it wasn't budging at all. Farm quietly watched you, sipping from a glass of water and grinning to himself, finding all of your struggling a little amusing.

The weed began to loosen, and just before you were able to finally yank it out of the ground, one of it's leaves cut into your hand, and you cried out in surprise. Immediately releasing the plant, you inspected your hand, frowning as you noticed the small amount of blood that had begun to gather around the cut. Farm arched a brow bone, asking if you were alright, and you told him that you'd gone and accidentally hurt yourself (again). He let out a deep sigh and shook his head, gently chiding you for not wearing gloves like he'd advised.

Once you agreed to start wearing gloves while working, he set his glass down and made his way over to you. You let him delicately take your hand into his and inspect it for a moment, before he began to heal the cut. The healing took place in silence, and that was partly due to how focused he seemed, and also partly because you noticed his focus. The way he looked when he was really concentrating on something was... For lack of a better word, very, very attractive. Combining that with the way he looked whenever he used his magic, and boy, he was a looker.

He finished healing your hand and mumbled that he was going to find you a pair of gloves. You quietly accepted what he said, feeling a tiny bit of heat rush to your face as you glanced away from him. He wanted to ask what was going through your mind, but decided to leave it be, in case it was something you didn't feel like talking about. As he began to lead you back into the house, you remained quiet, glancing down at your now healed hand. He really did a lot for you, and he never complained.... Not once was he ever unhappy to help you, and he almost seemed to perk up whenever you came around.

It was as if your body went into autopilot; Your head was completely void of any coherent thoughts, and you couldn't stop yourself from reaching out and snagging his sleeve, gently tugging. Both of you stopped and he turned to face you, asking what you needed. You stared at him for a few seconds, feeling your face start to heat up further. He arched a brow bone again, cracking a small smile and preparing to make a joke. You silenced him though, acting on impulse without even a single second of thought, as you suddenly closed the distance between both of you.

Your lips pressed against his teeth, and he froze. At the lack of immediate response, you began to wonder if you'd just messed everything up, and you began to pull away, already preparing to apologize. His hands caught your hips and tugged you closer to him, and before you could ask what he was doing, his teeth were once again on your lips, his cheekbones flushed a soft shade of green now. You gradually melted into it, lifting a hand to gently touch his face.

This right here.... It made you wonder why you hadn't let yourself go into autopilot before. If you had, maybe you could've been kissing him sooner.

#ladyofthegate #eve416 #asks #farmer sans #yes I'm still doing these #ig i just needed a little break #I'll do more in a little bit #it's late and i should try to sleep now #headcanons

[justformyself2]

Rainstorm

Yep. I'm a grown adult, but i feel like i need to tell you not to tell my mom. That is all I'm going to say.

WARNING: +18 READING. Probably some grammar mistakes ♥

John Krasinski x Reader.

Masterlist for more

You remain in the same position, missing countings of having to re-read the same phrase at the top of the page. He is watching you, and it burns, mostly because you were about to give in and were, still, putting up a stupid fight against yourself.

He wasn't playing your games anymore. There was another field being stepped on, other than the childish silent treatment phase, followed by the disgraceful conversation.

You disguised yourself in doing other 'chores' instead of enjoying every little bit of time left with him before LA could come in between and settle you two into the silent treatment for good.

John gets up from behind the desk on the other side of the room, where he stayed most of the time, where you had caught him ignoring his laptop more than once to look at you. He simply marks while making you catch on fire.

So that was the subtle game he was playing, testing you, bending you like a fragile stick, not even using much strength.

Him putting on that black tank top, generous with the view of his new figure, a result of intense hours of training for another movie. It wasn't as if you didn't like him either way, but the combo of letting the beard grow gave him a darker tone you weren't expecting to enjoy.

Another thing you wouldn't expect is his anterior baby boy face to try to get you back with sex, but this new him you didn't know, you only assumed, because that's what you wanted him to do, putting out the dripping agony between your legs.

He could have, probably or definitely, observed the way you clenched early this morning when he got back after jogging, dripping in sweat, taking his shirt off, entering the kitchen, a place supposed to be a neutral zone. 'Unintentionally.' he pressed his body against your back when reaching for a green juice on the fridge while you were trying to grab the chicken breast.

His fingers cupped your waist, and the warmth stayed there. The tingling, his back, and every little patch of skin walking away from the kitchen trapped into your mind. How did he get so many muscles?

With each and every little innocent touch, every other time you were sleeping on the only bed left on that chalé you rented, far away from the mess of New York City, and he would press his hardness against your bottom, became harder to redeem your choice of staying mad, and remembering to stay that way.

He should have known better than siding with your mom against you, especially in intimate conversations, but every now and then he got carried away by your mother's ways, inviting and manipulative.

Talking about inviting and manipulative, you watch John changing his route towards the bed where you were and walking towards the window on the right.

"Shit, it is going to pour out here."

You could curse.

Deciding the actually leave the book and getting up, you seek shelter from leaving the environment when a loud thunder strikes and the lights go out, stopping you in the hallway towards the small living room, shared with the kitchen.

The fragile moonlight coming through the windows was enough to, at least, guide you two close them when the wind started to get intense.

"Maybe I go should check the fuses?"

You didn't think he was serious, and he didn't seem to be when another violent thunder struck.

Was he checking if you still cared about him enough not to send him outside to get hit by lightning?

He closes the last window in the living room part.

"Are you insane?"

There is still a little bit more annoyance in your voice than you wanted.

The kitchen curtains start to be lifted like they are electrified, making you, in a stupid, impulsive way, run towards them and ignore the existence of the step up to the kitchen part.

Your knees hit the edge floor, as also did the palm of your hands, absorbing the fall.

"FUCK!"

"Baby, what happened?"

"WHO THE FUCK PUT THIS FUCKING STEP HERE?"

"Fuck, I can't see a damn thing. Where the fuck did I put my phone?"

"Why do you need a phone?"

"For the flashlight."

"I'm five steps away from you, seriously."

You sit to start rubbing on your knees in a tentative to ease the pain.

"What if I trip on you." You hear his voice coming closer.

"I'll kill you, but I'm fine. I just need a minute." Another thunder strikes lighting up the room, and he spots you for a couple of seconds.

"Do you think you can close the windows?" You ask, hearing the sound of the trees being shaken by the wind.

"Fuck the windows."

There is the sound of his steps coming closer, and you know he crouched down by the vibration of your own body recognizing his, something that wasn't new, but got enhanced by the darkness you two were under, as also did his smell.

It isn't fair.

"John-"

"Shush, come here."

You feel like a child, putting up your arms around his shoulder, after some guidance from his own hands that afterward cupped down the sides of your breasts down towards your waist, and finally, he easily lifts you, keeping you locked against his chest. His hand makes a slow wandering on your back, and you found yourself subconsciously doing the same thing on his naked arms.

"Don't shus-"

He is quicker than your words, and you wouldn't complain, conquering your mouth as his in a battle you didn't want to win.

The wind whistles through the windows, but you could let it bring down the house if it meant John would continue to bite down your lips while moaning.

No underclothing could prevent him from reaching any part of you without ceremony, but he is slow in a way you have to take his hands and put it in on your breasts, making him chuckle.

"For someone who is mad at me."

He takes advantage of your needs, but two could play the game.

"I can stop if you want, and we can go back the way we were."

You bluff, placing all the convincing in your voice since he couldn't see your face, but you could tell he had that jerk smirk.

His answer came in the form of his fingers invading your pajama shorts, you foolishly try to move away, lazily, and his other hand puts you in place while you feel his thumb caressing your clit.

"Are you sure that is what you really want? You know, you just have to tell me."

His low deep tone fogs your brain completely, and he is quick to realize this fact, so he goes back to attacking your lying mouth, left with no other task than moaning for him, but your hands were eager and truthful. You conquer his moans by stroking him through the sweatpants.

"Oh...Fuck! I was starving for this. You really have no idea, looking at you every day, walking on this fucking see-through shirt practically all-day and denying me to touch you, to kiss you."

He bites your shoulder, releasing another moan when your hand reaches under his underwear.

"It is not like you weren't trying to torture me too, eye-fucking me all day, walking around the house semi-naked, dripping in sweat. I will never forgive how fucking hot you look with a beard. I thought I would hate it, and now I just want to feel it in the middle of my tights."

"So we think alike."

"I think we not gonna make it to the bed, and the couch is too small."

"Then floor it is."

Retrieving yours and his hands, he proceeds to grab you by the ass with both hands, lifting you.

Your legs know the way around his waist, and his mouth knows the way towards your breasts. Over the thin fabric t-shirt, he displays fragile bites while crouching down with you on his lap.

When your bottom touches the floor, carefully, you feel his hand on both sides of your body, ready to get rid of your shirt, and with your help, it comes out easily.

John hums in approval, and so does you when his hands are replaced with the warm wetness of his mouth over your nipples.

The summer rain starts to fall heavy outside while your back starts to rest down against the wood floor slowly.

With your spine flat on the floor, he decides to start to travel down with less routine than you expected, undressing you of your shorts.

John could be methodical, but it seems that he didn't lie about being ravenous for you, but he couldn't skip the foreplay, that would be the true sin.

He goes down towards your navel, and you couldn't decide if it was hotter with the absence of the lights or not; It did enhance each feeling, every swirl of his tongue, every wet sound and taste, but you craved to see his hazel eyes, burning with pure lust to see you squirming under his mouth.

You don't know who or what to thank when the moonlight persevered over whatever cloud blocking it, lighting up the room decently enough to let you capture, even if wouldn't last long, the glistening of his tongue entering you at the exact moment.

You wanted to open your eyes, tell him to look up at you, but you underestimated the power abstinence could have. Now you could really comprehend his lack of ceremony.

"Fuck! Shit... John!."

Through your closed eyelids, you welcome back the darkness, missing the opportunity given by the moon, getting clouded like your thoughts. She would have to be merciful when you could even miss your name. She would have to be more merciful than John, which adds a finger to his torture, curling it up inside you, moaning against your clit.

You coming undone was a matter of seconds.

He tries his best to put you in place when the orgasm hits, but he ruins it, retrieving his stokes and tongue at the peak.

"What the fuck!" You don't' even have the strength to get your torso up.

"Oh, you really thought you were getting away with being punished?"

He grabs your thighs, while you layed, spread open for him. You really could escape in the dark and lock him outside the bedroom to figure out the rest with his hand.

When the thought started to sound like a plan you find the strength needed to get up at least your torso, but with your rough movements, he quickly catches up, gripping hard on your thighs and bringing forward towards his lap.

You figured he waited for you to leave since he was already in the position to land you on top of his hardness, as you were.

"You son of b-."

He grabs your ass, forcing it down on him, causing an inevitable moan to occur since you were already sensitive.

"Be a good girl for me, and I will compensate you, baby. I feel like I shouldn't have to tell you this so many times. It is like you want me to punish you."

The moon now betrays you, showing up in a time you were vulnerable, letting him picture your face while your body melted in his arms, and all of him that was so fucking inviting and undeniable.

"Do what you want with me."

With his eyes boring into yours, John lays you down, proceeding to get out of his remaining clothes completely. You couldn't believe how insanely good he looked; the moonlight could be fooling you.

Watching his cock pops out of the underwear, you could feel the wet agony forming between your legs all over again, like the heavy rain outside.

There isn't another word when the connection of your eyes was held strong, until he inclined forward, placing himself where he belonged, inside you, and your vision got compromised as he merciless pounded his pelvis against yours.

"Christ!"

He growls like an animal, just from being inside of you.

"Make it last, Krasinski."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckles.

Getting a better position with his arms on the sides of your head, he places one under your neck for comfort.

Your legs wrapped around his waist deepened his movements, and soon he was hitting places unknown to you.

"Oh... fuck, that's it right there, don't stop."

You couldn't control, taking advantage of the rain, muffling your pleadings, and also did he, what ironically made you mad at the rain.

He wasn't much vocal, and it didn't bother you till now when his moans were eating your brain out from logic.

"God, you are getting wetter by the second." He says, then kisses your lips before closing his eyes, increasing the strokes. "Is it cause you are now how you are supposed to be? Full of me, and only me."

Now you were the one hungry for his mouth, grabbing on his beard slightly hard to bring towards your face. His tongue is avid, his free hand goes towards your clit, and it's too much.

His mouth parts from yours.

"Cum on my dick, baby, cum for me so I can fill you up like you want me to."

You cry it out, feeling every cell of your body ready to obey him, to please him, and it doesn't take too long when your legs started to shake, and this time he goes all the way with it, letting to lose a bit of movement only when his own orgasm reached. You kiss him, deeply, while he still thrust into you randomly.

His moans vibrating in your mouth, till he quiets down, parting the kiss.

He smirked at you.

"Do you remember when you told me that fucking during a rainstorm was your fantasy?"

#john krasinski #john krasinski imagine #john krasinskixreader #imagine #+18

[merakiaes]

Pussy Whipped - Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: I lacked good ideas for dialogue in this one so this is shit, I’m sorry😂 Not proofread so sorry in advance for any possible mistakes. Translations for the Spanish bits are at the end. 

Wordcount: 2420

Summary: Mother nature pays you an early visit and Oscar treats you like the princess you are even though his Santos are watching. 

The weather was thriving outside, the air a perfect temperature and the sun shining down on all of Freridge. Yet, on this particular Saturday morning, you were absolutely miserable.

It was eleven o’clock and Oscar had been up for God knows how many hours already, while you had refused to leave your bed when the alarm had urged you to get up and get on with your day.

You’d had a lot planned for the day; chores like cleaning the house and switching out the broken lightbulb in the bathroom, and errands like going to the mall to get Cesar a new pair of shoes and go grocery shopping.

But no, as usual, mother nature chose the most inconvenient of times to pay you her monthly visit, never taking your planned cycle into much consideration.

With Oscar being in charge of Los Santos, he was always an early riser and you rarely woke up next to him, so in any other case, you didn’t mind.

But when you woke up this morning to a cold, empty bed, you had grown sad and started crying, and because of this realized pretty much instantly what was going on, even before the intense pains started.

But the cramps weren’t far behind, stopping you from getting out of bed any more than to go put in a tampon. After that, you had buried yourself under the mountain of blankets Oscar so stubbornly insisted that you slept with and cried even more because of the fact that they smelled like him and he wasn’t there to hold you.

You lost track of how long you laid there and just sulked, feeling sorry for yourself and craving everything you didn’t have in the house, but the second you heard people entering the house, followed shortly by Oscar’s voice cutting through the previously silent air, you defied the painful cramps radiating all through your abdomen and left the safety of your bed. 

It was with sulking and begrudging steps that you made your way out of your shared bedroom and headed straight for the living room.

With each step you took, the voices now speaking freely became louder, and you realized only then that your head was throbbing in sync with your uterus, making you cringe silently to yourself.

But you pushed on, desperate to be near Oscar in all your self-pitiful glory and entered the living room only seconds later.

You spotted Oscar where he was sitting in the couch instantly and when feeling your eyes on him, he looked up to meet your gaze.

The smile that had been stretched across his lips prior to your entrance faltered ever so slightly at the sight of the state you were in; hair thrown into a properly messy messy-bun, eyes bloodshot, cheeks streaky with dried tears and your body still dressed in your sleeping attire consisting of a pair of leggings and one of his very oversized t-shirts.

You were always one to start your day early. Not as early as him, but still early. You didn’t like to stay in your pajamas, so when you did, something wasn’t right.

“¿Qué pasa?” He asked you as you approached him at the couch, passing a few other Santos sitting on the opposite side of the coffee table.

Your lips automatically pulled into a small pout at his question, starting to feel your emotions getting the better of you again.

“I’m dying.” You answered in a small voice, looking down at him.

He wasted no time in shuffling further back into his seat and opening his arms, nodding his head lightly. “Come here, mami.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, sitting down in his lap and feeling a rush of calmness go through your body the second his arms wrapped around you. Getting comfortable, you leaned your back against his chest.

Sad Eyes, who was sitting next to Oscar, wordlessly accepted your legs over his knees while taking a sip out of the beer he was holding in his hand.

Meanwhile, the other three Santos who were present looked on with amused expressions as their fearless leader pressed a kiss to the top of your head and started rubbing your arms in a soothing manner.

“You going soft on us, Spooky?” One of them asked, but before Oscar even got the chance to reply, you flashed a fierce glare at him.

“Shut it, Manuel.” You snapped, snuggling further into Oscar’s chest.

Manuel whistled, smirking at you. “Damn. You on your monthlies?” He laughed at his own joke, but the others didn’t join in, having known you for longer and knowing exactly what was up.

“Yes, I am on my period.” You confirmed with hard eyes. “No, that does not mean that my anger is irrational.”

Oscar pressed a kiss to the side of your neck from behind you, clasping his hands in front of your chest. “Calm down.” He mumbled into your skin, pressing another kiss to the spot between your neck and shoulder. “Flow came early this month, huh.”

“Mhm.” You hummed, his affections calming you down immediately. “It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t be punished for not being pregnant.” You complained to yourself, scoffing lightly.

“Psh, how bad can it be? So what you got cramps.” Manuel dropped yet another comment, shaking his head.

This time, you only closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose, focusing on Oscar’s soft touches in order to not blow up right then and there.

Instead, the Santo next to him slapped him across the chest, giving him a look of disbelief. “Dawg, do you have a death wish or something?” He asked. “You don’t question chicas when they’re on their flow. Rule one.”

“I’m just sayin’, homie. It can’t-“

“How about you let me stab you in the stomach a hundred times?” You interrupted him, opening your eyes and raising an eyebrow at him. “And then make you walk around like everything is fine while you bleed from your privates?”

His nose scrunched up in disgust at your words, his previously teasing attitude dropping. “Keep those bloody details to yourself. That shit’s disgusting.”

Your eyebrows shot up even further at that. “Well, that’s pathetic.” You chuckled. “What’s really disgusting is that men are still grossed out about girls getting their periods in the twenty-first century. I’m sure your mother was praying to get hers but she got you instead. Tragic.”

Oscar’s chest shook with laughter behind you, the other Santos joining in while Manuel looked sheepish.

“She got you there, ese.” Sad Eyes spoke up for the first time at that, shaking his head with an amused smirk crossed over his features. “You know, there’s a reason Spooky’s got a ruca and you don’t.”

“Yeah, and this is it.” You agreed with a snort, before looking at your boyfriend’s right-hand man with gratitude. “Thank you, Sad Eyes.”

He gave you a nod, face still amused. “I got you, Lady Spooky.” He chuckled, but Manuel wasn’t half as amused, glaring around at you.

“Why you ganging up on me?” He asked, offended, and one of the Santos immediately delivered a slap to the back of his head.

“Because you’re stupid.” He answered, and while the two continued to bicker back and forth, you turned to look at Oscar behind you.

His face was pulled into a similar expression as Sad Eyes’; one of pure amusement as he quietly watched the scene unfold. But his face turned sincere when he averted his gaze to meet yours, eyes turning soft.  

“You need anything?” He asked, and you wasted no time in nodding, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes even though you knew for a fact that it wasn’t necessary to get what you wanted.

“Can you go get my heating pad?” You asked, touching his face with your hand lightly. “And an Advil, too.”

He stared into your eyes for a long moment, taking in every feature of your face, before slowly nodding his head.

At this point, the bickering stopped and all of the Santos were watching you with amused expressions.

“Check this out, this is where Spooky’s manhood dies.” One of them, this time not Manuel, remarked, causing all of them to laugh.

Oscar’s face broke into an equally as playful smirk as he moved his attention from you to his homies, raising his eyebrows at them. “You know how it is, compa.” He joined in, shrugging his shoulders. “I gotta treat my future baby mama good.”

He rubbed your arms for a moment longer, before starting to stand up.

Naturally, since you were sitting in his lap, you were stood up with him and instantly felt your stomach pull together in pain. You managed to ignore it and raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend instead.

“You planning to put a baby in me, Diaz?” You asked teasingly, and he smirked down at you, wrapping his arms around you.

“You know it, mamas.” He fired back without missing a beat, leaning his face closer to yours while caressing your butt shamelessly. “With my smarts and your looks, our babies will conquer the world.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m not smart?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not, mi amor. The smartest person I know.” He was quick to defend himself and pressed a kiss to your lips before you could say anything else.

You smiled into it, neither of you caring in the slightest that his Santos were watching you with different expressions. At this point, they were all used to Spooky’s soft spot for you. Or well, everyone but Manuel was, him being fairly new.

But luckily, he was smart enough to understand not to point it out anymore, with the way the others were averting their gazes and minding their own.

Breaking apart from the kiss, you shared a final look before Oscar wordlessly walked into the kitchen to bid to your wishes, while you got back into the couch.

This time, you laid down flat on your back, your head resting on the armrest and Sad Eyes once again accepting your legs over his knees without as much as a single complaint.

The man in question started conversing with the other Santos while Oscar was busying himself in the kitchen and meanwhile, you just laid there in silence, listening in to the conversation at hand with an arm draped over your eyes in an attempt to block out the sunlight streaming in through the window for the sake of your throbbing head.

Five minutes later, the conversation happening around you quietened down and another second later, you felt a prod against your arm. 

Removing said arm from over your eyes, you caught sight of Oscar now standing above you, holding your heating pad in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

A smile instantly graced your features and you wasted no time in pulling yourself into a sitting position, pulling your legs up to your chest.

“Thank you, baby.” You thanked him, gratefully accepting the glass of water along with the pill he had been holding in his hand behind it.

You swallowed the pill with a few sips of the water and handed the glass back to him, trading it for the heating pad that you wasted no time in placing at the bottom of your stomach.

You let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of the heat and Oscar raised an amused eyebrow. “Better?” He questioned and you nodded, wrapping your arms around your legs and leaning your cheek on your knees.

“Much.” You smiled, and he smiled back before heading back into the kitchen with the glass.

Only a few seconds later, he walked back into the living room with his phone in his hand, raising it slightly in a signal to his Santos.

“Got a text. Let’s dip.” He told them and they didn’t need to be told twice, all of them beginning to stand up from their respective seats.

Oscar’s face was much colder now, almost completely free of emotion, but as he walked over to you, his eyes still went soft at the sight of you.

You offered him a soft smile, taking his hand in yours once he reached you by the couch. “Can you go by the store when you get back?” You asked. “The fridge is empty and I’m hungry. And I’m all out of tampons.”

He nodded his head simply, squeezing your hand. “Te apoyo, cariño.”

Sad Eyes was the last one out of his seat beside you, shaking his head and chuckling, watching his best friend basically turn into a pile of mush at one simple touch from you.

“She’s got your cojones locked up tight, compa.” He teased, and you watched as Oscar’s playful attitude returned at the comment.

“Cállate.” He chuckled, looking at him, before turning back to you. “I'll get you some of that chocolate you like, too.”

He used his thumb to caress your knuckles and you smiled at the feeling, feeling your body grow warm at his affection. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, mi amor.” His hand dropped yours, instead reaching out to touch your chin. “Go lay down. I’ll be back soon.”

You nodded, still smiling softly, but instantly raised an eyebrow when his hand left your chin and he turned to walk away.

“Hey, where are you going?” You asked, giving him a smirk when he turned back to look at you. “Forgot something.” You pointed to your lips, raising your head from your knees and straightening your neck to give him better access.

He chuckled at you as you started making kissing noises, but nonetheless leaned down to press a quick kiss to your pouting lips. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.” You smiled and leaned your head back on your knees, now content and allowing him to walk away from you.

“Pussy whipped bitch.” Sad Eyes wasted no time in commenting once he reached him in the doorway of the front door, and Oscar, in turn, wasted no time in playfully shoving his chest.

“You looking to scrap, cabrón?” He asked, shoving him again. “I’ll give it to you.”

Sad Eyes stumbled into the wall behind him at the sudden force but he quickly regained his composure, starting to play-fight back. 

You shook your head as they exited the house and let the door shut behind them, listening to their Spanish bickering until the sound of Oscar’s Impala starting and driving away filled your ears, only then speaking fondly to yourself.

“Idiots.”

Translations (I’m not a native Spanish speaker so this might not be a hundred percent accurate):

¿Qué pasa? – What’s wrong? Te apoyo, cariño – I got you, baby

#oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz #oscar spooky diaz #on my block #on my block imagine #on my block x reader #spooky #spooky diaz #spooky x reader #sad eyes #mario martinez #ruby martinez #jamal turner #cesar diaz #monse finnie

[whirlybirdwhat]

Prompt: ASL give Dadan a father's day card. (She threatens to kill them but she keeps the card)

hehehehe this is late BUT HERE WE GOOOOOO

bear hag tiger bandit dad mom

read on ao3 here

“Hey guys.” Ace started out of nowhere, as he and his brothers laid down, staring at the sky from their usual cliffside spot. “What even… is Dadan.”

A beat of quiet.

“A hag!” Luffy said delightedly, giggling as he rolled over to stare at Ace. “An ugly one! Or even a bear! Oh she’s a bear-hag! A bear-hag-tiger-bandit!” He then gasped dramatically, stars in his eyes. “DO YOU THINK SHE CAN HAVE CLAWS! AND FANGS!”

“No! Idiot!” Sabo thumped Luffy on the head without even moving from his position on his back. “Dadan isn’t a bear. Or a tiger. She is a hag though.” He nodded, as if he had made an excellent, proper point.

Ace groaned at his brothers. “No! I mean what even is she to like… us. Not anybody else.”

“What do you mean?” Sabo rolled over as well to look at Ace, who was staunchly refusing to look at anyone else and whose face was turning a brilliant shade of red.

“I mean… like she kinda watches over us right? Does that make her kinda like a parent?”

Sabo cocked his head to the side, thinking. “I mean… maybe? She does give us food and medicine sometimes.”

“NO! THAT’S NOT DADAN! THAT’S –“ Luffy was quickly cut off by a hit to the head from Sabo.

“The Mystery Doctor isn’t real, Luffy, its just Dadan in a shitty mustache.”

Luffy looked to the side disgruntled. “Hmph.”

“GUYS! Focus!” Ace finally rolled over to face his brothers, so now they were finally all looking at each other. “What is Dadan? A Parent? A Mom?”

“I never had a mom before! Or a dad! Is Dadan a dad? Or a mom?” Luffy chattered, jumping on the possibility.

“Neither have I. That’s why I’m wondering.” Ace ignored the latter half of Luffy’s comment. Sometimes it was better to allow him to ramble than to try to make sense of it all. “Sabo you had parents right? What were they like?”

“Shitty.”

“Well, duh. No shit. What else?” Ace prompted, Luffy finally having quieted about Dadan being a tiger-bear-dad-mom beside him, and both staring attentively at Sabo.

(Because, well. They were children who never really had a home beside each other. Dadan was the closest thing Ace ever got, Luffy never had more than spare moments when the bar wasn’t busy, and both never knew anyone that could have been called dad, or mom, or anything of the sort – no one who stayed that is.

Ace hated his dad, and loved his mom (and hated himself, for all that he did,) and Luffy simply didn’t think he had any parents to feel anything about.

Still, Ace wondered, and things that his brothers wondered about, Luffy wondered about.)

Sabo placed his hand on his chin as if to think better. “Well. If we’re figuring out what Dadan was closest to, my mom was kind of like… Eh. She just cared about appearances and looking pretty and shit like that.”

Luffy and Ace nodded as one. “That’s not Dadan.” Dadan might wear make-up and beads, but she was a mountain bandit who was never really seen by people other than her clan or her victims. She didn’t really care about stuff like that. Even if she did get pissed when they stole the lipstick she kept hidden in her back closet for war paint.

“And she cared about other kids more than me, and didn’t really bother me until I did something she or someone else didn’t like.”

“Definitely not Dadan.” Luffy and Ace nodded again. Dadan didn’t have any other kids and yelled at them all the time. (Though, that may be because they never did anything they were supposed to do. What did she expect? Chores were boring! )

“What about your dad? What was he like?” Ace prompted, tossing out the idea of ‘mom.’

“Shitty. He always yelled at me and called me names. He was mean about it though. Dadan just looks like she’s about to cry.” Sabo finished, still thinking hard. “I mean… my parents aren’t what everyone else says parents are like though? At least for the kids in Edge Town.”

“Yeah… dads are supposed to protect you right? And be big and strong? And leaders?” Ace questioned, bitterness tracing into his voice.

“And moms are suppose to like take care of you and bring you stuff! Like the Mystery Doc-“

“THAT’S JUST DADAN!” Both Ace and Sabo this time hit Luffy’s head, cutting him off.

“She just comes to check on us, then trips up all our traps! It’s not a Mystery Doctor! Just! Dadan!” Ace spit out.

Luffy whined as the three of them quieted, thinking over everything that they had just said.

Then, Sabo spoke the words that would seal Dadan’s fate.

“If Dadan is kind of like a dad…” She protected them, or tried to in her own way, and was the leader of the Dadan bandits. “And kind of like a mom…” She was the Mystery Doctor, as Luffy called it, and checked up on them while cursing them out in all sorts of nasty ways. “Then… is she a mom and a dad? Is that how that works?”

“Well. We only have one of her. She can be both.” Ace decided. Jungle life left no room for society to state who could or could not be what and… well…

Besides. Maybe mom’s were the protectors sometimes and the leaders, and maybe dads were the caretakers. Ace was pretty sure that could happen. Did happen. Roles were stupid anyway. Just do whatever the fuck you wanted. That’s how Ace and his brothers lived, anyway, how everyone should live.

But…

“Why were you really asking Ace?”

Sabo knew him too well.

“Some of the kids in Edgetown were talking about how they were getting their dads’ shit for Father’s Day or something.”

And Ace wanted to know if he should be making something for anyone (or just wallow in the hatred he had for his dad.)

If he had anyone to make something for.

Luffy doesn’t even question why Ace was lurking around Edgetown kids without them, and sits up with stars in his eyes.

“WE NEED TO MAKE A CARD FOR –“

“SHUT UP!!”  Twin fist slammed into a rubber head as Ace and Sabo cut Luffy’s idea off.

“HEY!”

Or maybe…

“Maybe he has a point.” Sabo hummed, thoughtfully, as they had all settled into the ground.

“What?”

“Maybe we should make a card for Dadan.” Sabo rolled out of the way of Ace’s fist. “No! Think about it! We get to tell her thank you for all the shit she tries to do for us and maybe she’ll stop yelling at us so often!”

Luffy and Ace looked at him as if he were an idiot.

Sabo felt vaguely insulted.

“It’d be super funny to see her face when we give it to her too.”

Luffy and Ace looked at him as if he were a genius.

Now, there was only one question left.

“How the fuck do you make a card anyway?”

-

Dadan woke up peacefully that morning, which was an immediate cause for her to reach for her knife under the bed and spring into action.

She never woke up peacefully anymore. Not since those three brats had taken to crashing the hut in the morning. Either something was wrong, or those brats were playing with her.

She was going to get more gray hairs than Garp at this rate.

Fuck.

Quickly, she scanned her room for any oddities, any thing that would tip her off to whatever the fuck was going on this morning.

Dresser. Mirror. Weapons. Window. Card. Window. Wall. Wea- Wait.

Card?

Dadan stepped closer to the piece of folder thick paper, lying on her dresser, and peered at it closely.

Hapy Father’s Day! It read, in the misspelt handwriting of a child who had previously learned to write well then gave up. It was in black ink, fancy looking, with a smear along the exclamation point and drifting off into the side.

Around it was jungle trees in crayon and something that might have passed as Dadan, if not for the lack of face, and the only visual characteristics being orange curls and red beads and sharp teeth and a angry look.

Curious.

Wait.

SHE WAS A WOMAN!

Damn BRATS!

She ignored the tears at the edge of her eyes and opened the card, knife set to the side.

Dear Dadan, the same handwriting as the front said, this time in dark blue, thickly pressed crayon. Hapy Father’s day. Thank you for taking care of us. Beside the note was a scribbled jolly roger, an S surrounded by crossbones as its signature. Besides that was another scribbly orange blob, this time marginally closer to looking like a person.

Beneath that, on the same page, was careful red print, again in crayon. The words were spaced out, as were the letters, as if the writer didn’t particularly know how many letters were in the word and was waiting for someone to tell them. It read Shitty Old Hag. Thank you for taking care of me. You are stupid but you are strong sometimes. Happy Fathers Day. – Ace

Besides that was some suspicious wet spots, hastily wiped away.  Dadan dabbed her own eyes as to not add to them.

Ace’s artistry skills were slightly better than Sabo’s at least. His version of her was most definitely a person, apparently sitting atop of a bear. She laughed at that, a little.

Her eyes skimmed to the next page, where a monstrosity of black and orange was red was scribbled out. She was vaguely sure it was human. Vaguely. It might have been a bear.

The yellow crayon writing had been outlined in careful strokes by someone clearly not the original writer. DADAN, it seemed to screech, YOU ARE THE BEST BEAR HAG TIGER BANDIT MOM DAD. MOUNTAIN BANDITS SUCK BUT YOUR COOL. – FUTUR KING OF THE PIRATES

Then, on the opposite side of the drawing, in bright orange, LUFFY.

These stupid, stupid kids.

Dadan wasn’t crying. She wasn’t.

Oh how she loved these kids.

She turned the card around one last time, to the message on the back.

This handwriting, graceful and in black ink, was one she recognized. Makino.

Dear Dadan,

I hope this gift doesn’t insult you too bad, the boys were so excited to do it that I just had to help them with supplies! They really do love you, even if they don’t quite grasp the difference between mom and dad. They told me they just decided you could be both. Isn’t that great?

Thank you for being there for our boys Dadan! Happy Father’s Day.

-Makino

Okay. Maybe Dadan was crying right now.

Oh, she hated the fact that she loved these boys.

“Shishishi!”

“Luffy! Shut up!”

THUNK!

Oh, she was going to kill them.

Dadan turned to the window where a top hat, a straw hat, and a quite obvious head of black hair was peeking out over the window sill.

“BOYS!” She raged, setting the card down with care before running to the window.

“RUN!” Came the terrified call, followed by laughter and joy as three boys sprinted away into the woods.

Dadan debated following them, before deciding she would rather they not see her teary-eyed face.

Ah.

She might not be the best parent, but she did alright at least. Enough to get a card on a holiday.

Dadan loved her boys.

She really did.

#dadan #portgas d. ace #sabo #luffy #asl brothers #whirlywhat #whirlywrites #whirlyanswers #monkey d. luffy #ace #curly dadan #happy father's day!!!! belated!!!! oh well fghjkjl #op #one piece #opfic #junemel

[sezja]

Previously: CALL ME, DATE ME, KISS ME

WANT ME : The first time Sanson wanted to have sex with Guydelot.

Tailfeather is a strange community, but Sanson finds he enjoys sitting on the fringes of it, observing the comings and goings of the hunters - and this morning finds him doing just that: watching a group of particularly exuberant young hunters splashing playfully in the stream that winds its way through the settlement. Guydelot, never content to sit on the fringes when he can mingle and make a nuisance of himself, has joined them.

It occurs to Sanson, watching from a safe (and dry) distance, that he has never seen Guydelot laugh until now.

Barefoot and stripped to the waist, the man frolics like a child in the shallow water, kicking up small waves to soak his new friends. Sanson sighs, distracted from his journal by the noise - and yes, very well, by the sight of so many half-dressed hunters, many of them fit from their profession and the demands of their chores around the great forest.

And Guydelot.

His most recent lover - gods, that was two years ago now? Three? - had been an Elezen, Sanson recalls: a lancer, not an archer, and there's a marked difference in how the muscles form. Drawing a longbow has given Guydelot a strong chest, and those shoulders… whatever Guydelot may lack in discipline he surely made up for with practice; this is not the body of a man who slacks in his archery. Sanson has the sudden urge to place a hand on Guydelot's back, to feel those muscles at work.

Matron preserve me, I'm going mad. It's only how long it's been since he last shared a bed, that's all; he simply needs to look at someone else, anyone else. Anyone else. He may at last be warming to Guydelot - begrudgingly - but this goes well beyond warming.

But what would it feel like, that chest pressed against him? How would it feel to let Guydelot's hands, so skilled with a harp's strings, explore his skin with the same gentle dexterity? That voice in his ear, low and intimate. And his lips…

"You're lookin' a tad flushed, friend." Marcechamp's voice jars Sanson from his dangerous thoughts, and by the man's mischievous grin, Sanson suspects he knows where those thoughts had wandered. Is he so transparent? A galling thought. Particularly with Guydelot, observant as a bard should be, nearby. "Maybe you ought to join in the fun to cool off?"

"I think not." No, he's going to avoid Guydelot as best he can for the rest of the day, and hope to sort out his own head in the meantime.

WANT ME : The first time Guydelot wanted to have sex with Sanson.

Guydelot has a strong suspicion the room they're given in Falcon's Nest was, until they arrived, a broom closet. Scarcely a fulm between their beds, and they can't both stand up at the same time without stepping on each other's toes; it's a claustrophobic little hole in the wall - so it's no surprise, then, that he's been everywhere else of late. Charming his way into better sleeping quarters is easy: Falcon's Nest is full of stonemasons and soldiers with simple pleasures, and this far from Ishgard proper, being foreign is in his favor more often than not. Most nights he doesn't have to crawl into this tiny hole.

He's not so lucky tonight. He lays face-down on the rickety bed, trying to doze off and failing - kept awake by the sound of Sanson scribbling in his journal, so close it could practically be in the same bed. Another benefit to sleeping elsewhere: superior company.

What's he even writing about? They've been in Falcon's Nest for four days now, waiting on word from Alamenain; there's been no news - what's he got to write about? Guydelot cracks one annoyed eye open, glaring at the inconsiderate bastard. Scribble, scribble. Guydelot wonders if he could reach over and swat the damn book out of Sanson's hands. Not for the first time, he considers burning it while Sanson's not looking - if he ever stops looking at it.

Oblivious to Guydelot's irritation, Sanson scribbles blissfully on. He's dressed for bed: hair down, simple bedclothes; the most relaxed Guydelot ever sees him - but there's still that infuriating stiffness, that rigid manner that never quite disappears entirely. What would it take to shake it, Guydelot wonders?

Pausing for thought, Sanson briefly rests the feather of his quill against his lower lip. Nice lips, Guydelot muses: lips meant for smiling, for kissing. Pity they’re always frowning, even now, pursed in consideration as Sanson mulls over whatever bit of trivial nonsense he feels like memorializing in writing. Never mind swatting the book away. What if he took the quill instead, trailing the feather over those wasted lips, down Sanson’s throat, down the loose collar of his nightshirt…

Might see some life in you then, Sanson the Stiff.

And then Sanson resumes writing, and the impulse of desire flickers out as swiftly as it came. Guydelot sighs, rolls to face the wall, pulls the pillow over his head, and tries to sleep.

#sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #romantic firsts prompt responses #these are vaguely suggestive but nothing too graphic #ask to tag #my writing

[whenwordsmakesense]

Day 2: Gay

@pridewrite2021 

Here you can find all my work for this amazing event!

From The Mess Rises a Poetrywolf (On AO3!)

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Ship: Derek Hale × Stiles Stilinski

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Stiles smiled, and kissed Derek's cheek that was closest to him. “I will do anything and everything for those I love. I will.” His smiled widened at Derek's blush. “Well. You know how I felt after that. We didn't lose anyone close to us but we did lose people—I hated myself. But you didn't. Because you saw the person I was before, waiting to be brought back to the surface. And you were right. I am not the same as I was, but, I am better then that.” Derek's hand had found his, and their hands were interlaced, now. Even though he was reliving something he hated to, Stiles couldn't stop smiling.

Or you could read here: 

Warning: Swearing.

>> Starts from here onwards.

The place looked completely destroyed.

Derek looked worse.

“What the hell happened here? I leave for one weekend—please tell me no one died!” Stiles seriously hated his life, because that question actually made sense. A terrifying, literal kind of sense, and why was breathing so damn hard now?!

“Oh, shit! No, no, no, it's—everyone's fine. Breathe, Stiles. In and out, in and out...”

Derek's soft voice and his warm, heavy hands on his shoulders grounded him, his breathing resuming it's normal beat alongside his heartbeat. He spared a moment to think of the contrast between the Derek he'd first met six years ago and the one who was in front of him right now.

He kind of hated himself for ever believing that Derek—the biggest marshmallow ever—was a villain. A bad guy.

“The hell happened here?” He asked once he could. Derek signed through his mouth and his jaw tensed, eyebrows knitting together in expression number seven, which meant ‘It was a simple thing, really, but I, being a Sourwolf, didn't use my words and the situation went out of hand and it was really stupid and if I tell you you'll just call me an idiot.’ At least, that's what that look meant to Stiles.

“Well, Scott and Isaac thought—”

This time, Stiles was the one who sighed in resignation. “Derek. How many times have I told you: Scott. Isaac. Thinking Bad. Actually, anyone but me, Lydia, Boyd, Peter and Chris thinking is bad.” At Derek's look, he added, with a roll of his eyes, “Okay, and you too. But only sometimes.”

“Do you want to know or not.” Derek's lack of inflection suggested that he was going to withhold the information from Stiles, and that might actually kill Stiles. Figuratively. Ugh, fuck his life.

“Yes, yes. Do tell, oh wise one,”

Derek just rolled his eyes and tugged him to the middle of the living room, where a mostly okay mattress was the only place to sit. You know, in a once perfectly fine living room.

“It was Scott's idea, originally, or so Isaac says. He wanted to bring back a cat—”

Stiles squealed. “Midnight?!”

Derek glared at him. “You knew.” He accused.

Stiles didn't like that tone. It suggested Stiles was somehow to blame, and he'd been out of town, damnit. “You know, Scott is my friend. And normal people, unlike you, text each other with this device known as a phone. Of course I know! He sent me a picture of the cutesy cat!”

Derek ignored the jab at his hatred to phones. Seriously, Stiles wondered if even the Pack Messages were sent by Erica through his phone. If, you know, Derek didn't like, write in full sentences with whole words like an old man.

“The ‘cutesy cat’ decided that Lydia's hair was the best place to sit on. Then it decided to scratch at her hair. Malia didn't like her packmate in distress, and Scott and Isaac's guilt was suffocating enough without Lydia's death glare at them, and Erica decided filming her would be a good idea. I think you can connect the dots.” Derek told him all of it in a complete monotone, like having an angry Lydia chasing Erica and Malia losing her control didn't affect him at all. Except the evidence of that was all around them, and Stiles was glad that this weekend was his on-field duty.

“I... Don't know what to say. At least we made it four years before this happened. Again.”

The last time the three girls had lost all their control like this was long, long ago, labelled under a box in his brain called ‘Do Not Open. Please.’ He seriously wasn't keen on opening it. Ever.

He kind of felt bad for leaving his Alpha alone to deal with the pack. Sure, said pack were adults, now, most of them in their last year of college and Lydia, being Lydia, was on her path to get her second degree where most people got one but... They really weren't adults. None of them were. Age was just a number, and apparently him and Derek were the ‘Pack Parents’ and the idiots calling themselves Scott, Isaac, Lydia, Jackson, Allison, Boyd, Erica, Kira and Malia were their kids.

Kids who were about to get a whole lot of chores because damnit, Stiles was not going to clean up their mess, and neither was Derek.

Stiles listed all the things he'd made their kids do while Derek listened with his eyebrows knitted together in expression number two, which meant ‘I am listening. I don't want to, but I am, because you're very intense and generally know what you are doing.’

“—and he can clean up the poop!” He finished with a flourish, arms finally coming to rest on his thighs. Phew. That was a lot of flailing, even for him.

Derek gave him a look. “Poop?”

“Poop.” He agreed. When Derek just kept looking at him, he mumbled, “I mean, Scott brought him here. He should be the one to take care of Midnight's excreta and stuff. It's only fair.”

Derek gave him the patented ‘Stiles, I'm going to kill you.’ look. Stiles didn't have to guess. He'd had this look thrown his way everyday since that one fateful night out and about in the preserve that started the werewolfy chapter in his life.

“What?” He asked self-consciously.

Derek didn't use his words, but he made it pretty clear with his gesturing around the once pristine living room what he wanted to say.

“We will train him! Come on, Derek, have a little heart!” He paused. “I mean. Not a little heart. Just more... Feelings. Ugh, well you know what I mean. Please?”

Derek only glared harder, and then for some reason, looked totally nervous. If it were anyone other than Stiles here, they would have thought that Derek just notched up his ‘I'm going to kill you.’ face by, say, a thousand, but Stiles was here. This was totally Derek's nervous face.

Stiles flailed hard, and accidentally hit Derek on his face. “Derek! If I find out either you or your kids killed Midnight, I—I'll divorce the Pack!”

“Why are they my kids when they're potentially cat-killers and your kids when they get good grades? I'm pretty sure you can't divorce Scott and Isaac's puppy eyes.” Derek grumbled, but at least he looked not nervous now. Well, less nervous.

“True,” he agreed, because man, Scott and Isaac were unfair, and added, “I'm the proud parent, dude, and you're obviously the pushover parent. You let them get away with everything.”

“I do not. And don't call me dude.”

“Keep telling yourself that, dude.” He grinned cheekily at Derek's glaring face. Seriously, though, it was true. The massive movie-theater-esque TV in one of the basement rooms was one of the many, many proofs of that.

And Stiles hated himself because he didn't need to say that he thought of him and Derek as parents... where they were like a couple. Sure, there were jokes and all, and they did act like it but... It hurt. It hurt because it wasn't true.

And Stiles wanted it to be.

In a bid to reroute his thinking process, he asked again, “You didn't kill Midnight, did you?”

Derek just rolled his eyes and said “No.” And then suddenly, Derek hauled them both up, and started to pick up the mess that was the living room of the house. “Pick up the cushions,” he said, gruffly, again nervous. Kind of angry—didn't Stiles just spend half-an-hour telling Derek about the chore-table he'd made on the spot—and also kind of disoriented, because what, he did as was told.

And stopped as he picked up the second cushion on the floor. He blinked his eyes, counted his fingers—ten, there were exactly ten fingers on his hands, this was not a dream—because that...

... Couldn't be true. Could it? But he could see Derek giving him small glances as he righted the couch, with ease, the cheating werewolf, and what was Stiles to do but shake as he picked up the card.

The card which addressed Stiles, and asked him, “Will you be my mate?”

Werewolves didn't have a predestined mate. They fall in love like anyone else. But they are part wolves, and instead of calling their significant other boyfriend or girlfriend or partner or whatever, they call them mate.

And it's final. If a werewolf asks you to be their mate, that means they're commited. It's basically a marriage proposal.

The card was blue. Stiles' favourite color, and he should not have teared up at that little gesture. But he did. And he hadn't even opened the thing yet, which, why not?

Tears welled up in his eyes as he read what was written inside, in Derek's clean, neat, cursive handwriting. Stiles might tease the Alpha for not using his words, but when it came to writing down his words... Derek pretty much put the best writers to shame.

“The day I met you I was a mess

And you were full of sass

You annoyed me to death

Made me tempt your fate

I could have killed you

But I am glad I didn't, phew.”

Or maybe it was just his biased heart speaking.  

He started laughing, his arms hitting Derek's chest as he turned around, the Alpha giving him expression number one, which meant ‘I'm hurt but I don't want to show it so I'm going to glare... Harder.’

“Oh, no, no, no, Der, just—phew?” He laughed harder, imagining Derek making that noise, his tough, gruff voice mimicking such a kiddie noise. Huh. Pew pew... Now that made him laugh harder.

When he finally managed to regain his composure, Derek just looked simple ol' annoyed.

“I don't even want to know. Just.” Derek made a ‘go on’ gesture at the card that was still in Stiles' hand, like he wanted him to read it, but also not. Like Stiles was going to reject him. Well, tough luck. He'd been in love with this idiot since he was seventeen, of course he wasn't going to reject Derek. Except maybe he would, because why would someone thrash their own house for a goddamn card?

Or okay, Stiles had to believe that what Derek told him did happen, because he could see Lydia's gorgeous strawberry blonde hair on the floor, but man if Derek didn't use the situation well.

The card told him why. Derek did have a way with words, and with the strings attached to Stiles' heart. He pulled every one of those with his badly written poetry.

Stiles was crying when he was done.

He slowly put down the card on the righted coffee table—Derek had been hard at work, apparently, with his nervous energy and mostly the place looked okay now—and made his way to the other man, and latched onto him like a barnacle. Derek froze for a moment, but with each second that passed, he relaxed, and slowly brought his hands to Stiles' back and rubbed soothing circles, like the human liked.

“I'm sorry,” Derek mumbled after some time, Stiles didn't know how much, and started to pull away. Stiles tightened his hold on the werewolf instead.

“Why? You shouldn't be. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He pulled back just enough to look Derek in the eye. “You don't, Derek.”

Derek didn't look away. Stiles guessed he couldn't. He knew because he was in the same boat.

“I made you wait.”

Stiles chuckled. It was a little watery. “Aw, you aren't being sorry for dragging ‘my human ass in the supernatural mess,’ that's real progress, Alpha.”

“You would have done it anyway. You're too curious for your own good.” Derek replied fondly. But the light atmosphere quickly changed back to the tense one, Derek going back to apologising for making Stiles wait for years, apparently.

“It was Isaac who told me that you've been in love with me for years. I mean I knew you were in love with someone... I thought Lydia at first and then Malia, maybe...”

“So this was Isaac's idea,” Stiles mumbled to himself. But he and Derek were still so close, and Derek heard him.

“Technically.” Derek agreed.

“I am not, you know. Not with them,” Stiles assured. “And... I get it. I'm actually glad you waited. You're... Healed. You were never broken, Der,” he whispered the words. It felt like he should, like they would lose their meaning if he said them louder. And it fit them. With the level of comfort Derek and him shared with each other, Stiles never felt like filling the silences with his chatter. “You were not. You were just in a... Feelings-Coma. You could feel them, but not really feel them, you know? I think. The good ones especially. Not for yourself at least. I hated it but I also get it, you know. After the Nogitsune—”

“You don't have to—”

Stiles smiled, and kissed Derek's cheek that was closest to him. “I will do anything and everything for those I love. I will.” His smiled widened at Derek's blush. “Well. You know how I felt after that. We didn't lose anyone close to us but we did lose people—I hated myself. But you didn't. Because you saw the person I was before, waiting to be brought back to the surface. And you were right. I am not the same as I was, but, I am better then that.” Derek's hand had found his, and their hands were interlaced, now. Even though he was reliving something he hated to, Stiles couldn't stop smiling. “I saw the one you could be, you know. When I took the time to think about you... Voluntarily, that is.”

“I guess I am just that special, then,” Derek said with a small smile on his face.

Stiles rubbed their noses together, cataloguing the way Derek's eyelashes danced around his beautiful eyes. “Yes you are. And you prove it everyday. I still don't know how you could still stay standing after losing everything—everyone. And I respected you for that. I thought I never could have done what you did, and then I got to know you and I... Fell in love with you.”

They stayed like that, in the kind-of cleaned but mostly messy living room of the Hale House, because in Derek's words:

“In all this mess,

You were the unique case.

You made me feel less alone

Like I could walk away from my tomb

Like I was alive and breathing

And feeling like my soul was freeing

From the cage of my broken life

Just because you gave me strife.”

Stiles especially loved the last line. Derek didn't just love him, he loved him despite all the things he's done to make Derek angry—and he's done that a lot. Maybe he could frame that bit, and the next time when he would inevitably get hurt—either from the monster hunting, which was more likely, or his occasional on-field FBI job—he could just show that to his Alpha. Because obviously Derek could never hate him, despite him being a stubborn idiot.

He giggled at the thought, and Derek just sighed.

“No, you're not framing it.”

“Oh, you know me so well, poetrywolf.” Derek sighed again, and Stiles added, “I was thinking I'd kiss you if you'd let me—”

Turns out he'd just kiss Derek for no reason at all. And when did the Sourwolf become such a great kisser?

#pridewrite2021 #happy pride 🌈 #sterek #teen wolf #gay boys #(in an umbrella term) #stiles stilinski #derek hale #day 2 #gay

[shutupandshipit]

Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.16

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: M

Chapter: 16/20

Previously <- Chapter 15: Gross Holiday Activities

Chapter 17: ??? -> Next (coming 5/9)

Author’s note: You may or may not notice that the rating jumped this chapter. It is also going to jump next chapter provided I can be a big girl and actually write the explicit content. TW: Overdose in this chapter.

Chapter 16: Heats and Ruts

“Oh, Katsuki, it’s nice to see you. What can I do for you?”

For a moment, Katsuki was completely lost for words as he looked at Inko’s haggard appearance. There were bags sitting heavily beneath her once shining green eyes and her clothes seemed to hang wrong on her frame. Like she’d lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time. Even her scent was off. Musty almost. Darker than her usual bright citrus and mint scent. Almost like when fruit began to rot.

His pre-rut had started that morning, and he could smell everything. And he meant everything. Inko’s scent made him want to gag, but he forced the reaction down.

Swallowing, he said, “Mom sent me over because you texted her about something. She thought I could help.”

“Really? Mitsuki sent you over?” She wrung her hands together, dropping her eyes before glancing over her shoulder. “Well, that might be better actually.” She glanced back at him, a sheen of tears making her eyes sparkle.

He felt his stomach begin to drop.

“Izuku won’t come out of his room. I haven’t heard him moving around. I thought it was because he was supposed to start his heat today, but I haven’t been able to smell it. I’ve been trying to give him space, but I’m worried-”

“You want me to check on him?” Katsuki asked, interrupting her ramblings.

Inko’s eyes dropped again. “You two have always been such close friends. Maybe he’d be willing to talk to you over his mother.”

‘Highly doubt it,’ Katsuki thought, mind flashing with the image of Izuku on the ice. Blood and tears and pain etched into a face that wasn’t meant for it. How it never would have happened if he’d been Izuku’s partner. Outloud, he said, “I’ll try. No promises.”

Inko stepped back to let him in, and Katsuki immediately smelled the difference in the place. It had lost the scents that he remembered so well from his childhood. Baked goods and flowers and Izuku and Inko’s scents mixing harmoniously. Instead, they’d been replaced by the strange chemical cleanness of a hospital.

It took Katsuki until he was standing in front of Izuku’s door to realize the scent was coming from his room. He glanced back at Inko. “What’s that smell?”

Inko’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Katsuki’s stomach dropped out from under him. His hand shot out to try the door handle without knocking, and Inko didn’t try to stop him. The door was locked.

“Shit!” Katsuki hissed under his breath before pounding on the door, “Hey, Deku! You awake in there? Open the door!”

“Katsuki!” Inko gasped in horror, reaching out for his arm, but unable to catch it. There was no answer from within, and Katsuki banged louder, the door rattling in its frame. “Katsuki, please! He’s healing! He’s been in a lot of pain!”

He turned a heated glare to the woman at his side. “As long as I’ve known him, he’s never locked his door. Why would he have started now?”

Inko opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her eyes were wide, fear beginning to cloud them.

“I’m going to break the door. Step back.” Inko followed his instructions without comment, and Katsuki immediately rammed his shoulder into the door. Pain lanced through his shoulder, his frame still bonier in all his pre-teen glory than he would have liked. The door was flimsy for the most part though, not meant to hold up to vigorous assault, and it took less time than Katsuki had assumed to break it open.

He fell into the room as the door swung open, and wretched at the strength of scentlessness of the space. A space that had always been so drenched in Izuku’s scent, every one of his emotions. Now there was nothing. Not even a whiff of happiness or anxiety. It was wrong. All of it was so fucking wrong.

Once he’d gotten his gagging under control, he took in the scene. There was an empty orange pill bottle on the bed near an open hand. Little white pills scattered across a navy blanket and tan carpet. The longer Katsuki looked, the more damning the picture became.

It was only until he made it to Izuku’s face that ice water was injected straight into his veins.

Sunken eyes. Stringy, greasy curls. Hollow, distant, clouded green eyes. His chest didn’t seem to be moving.

“Fuck! Izuku!” He raced for his childhood friend, grabbing the limp wrist by the pill bottle and holding it so tightly that he felt the bones grind together. It took several long moments for Katsuki to feel a faint flutter, but still, there was too much space between each beat. “Call an ambulance! Auntie, call an ambulance! Goddammit, Izuku, what did you do?”

He didn’t wait to see if Inko had followed his orders. He turned Izuku on his side, prying his mouth open to shove his fingers down the boy’s throat. There had been so many times over the past year during his ruts that Katsuki had imagined doing this exact thing, but never had he imagined it would be in this context. He never wanted it to be like this.

“Please, please, please,” he prayed desperately as he reached and reached until he felt Izuku’s body begin to convulse. He hung the boy’s head over the side of the bed, ignoring the sick that splattered across the floor. Little white pills floated in the yellow liquid, most nearly dissolved. Even as Izuku stopped wretching, he remained catatonic, no life to his eyes. 

For the first time in years, Katsuki felt his throat close and his eyes burn with tears. “No, Izuku, don’t fucking do this! What about your mom? What about the team? What about me? You can’t do this to us! Izuku!”

Inko whirled back in, her hair wild and face tear streaked. “They’re coming! They’re coming!” she screamed, running over to Izuku. “My baby! Why? How did this happen?”

It took what felt like forever for the paramedics to arrive, and Katsuki watched from the curb as Inko scrambled into the back of the ambulance without a second look back at him. He stood there silently until suddenly there were arms around him. Mitsuki dragged him into her chest and stroked his hair roughly, and it was only then that he realized how sore his throat was.

His parents took him to the hospital hours later. When he’d calmed down and Inko had called to say that Izuku had woken up, and it was only moments after that that he found himself standing at the omega’s beside.

Izuku stared straight ahead, eyes sightless and flat, while their parents slipped out into the hallway.

“Why?” Katsuki whispered desperately, reluctant to reach out for the boy to get his attention.

He didn’t need to though. Izuku blinked slowly, and when his eyelids opened again, his eyes were on Katsuki. Still, he didn’t seem to even realize Katsuki was there. “Why?” he repeated, voice raspy from the rough treatment of his throat, like he didn’t understand the question.

Katsuki seethed, and it was a chore to keep his voice down. “Yes, why, Izuku! Why did you do it? You- You almost died. Do you realize that? Is that what you wanted?”

Even more slow confusion clouded his already cloudy eyes. “No, I don’t want to die. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t know it could.”

“You can overdose on anything, idiot! Why didn’t you stop if you weren’t doing it on purpose?” It was all Katsuki could do not to tear his own hair out in frustration. Or to start crying again. He didn’t want to cry again, not in front of Izuku, not in front of anyone. He was supposed to be the strong one.

Izuku reached out, but Katsuki jerked his hands away at the chill of his fingers on his skin. He didn’t seem to notice, clasping the bed railing instead. “I just wanted it to stop.”

Katsuki waited, and when it didn’t seem like Izuku was going to continue, prompted, “Stop what?”

“The pain. I just wanted it to stop.”

He couldn’t stay there, not with this deadeyed Izuku or his complete lack of scent, and turned out of the room. Masaru caught a glimpse of his face before he hid it away to duck around the trio, and it was his dad who found and held him that time while Mitsuki stayed at Inko’s side.

…..

December Week 1

Katsuki should have stayed home.

As soon as he stepped into the rink for practice, he knew that. Every little loud sound from his teammates and burst of scent sent his mind reeling with anger. Every time one of them got too close to Izuku sent his mind reeling with anger. Every time he caught the remnants of chemical scentlessness sent his mind reeling with anger.

The overwhelming rage and jealousy was his constant companion.

Not only that, but when he did catch a clean breath of Izuku's scent, the scent of approaching heat, it just filled him with the urge to 'Mount, mate, mark, mine, Mark, mate, Mount'. The only thing he could do was grit his teeth against the urge.

He knew that if there were still suppressants in Izuku's scent, especially with his heat coming on, that meant Izuku wasn't ready to share a nest with him. Not that Katsuki had expected him to, but he thought maybe he'd at least come off his suppressants. It would be best if they'd be gone at the same time.

Thinking about it though, Katsuki had never seen Izuku take time off for his heats. Did that mean their cycles had always lined up? Or maybe Izuku's cycles were just very short, lining up with the weekends? The only thing was, he could never remember Izuku smelling of heat. But he could remember Izuku smelling like suppressants when he would get too close to the omega.

And now, as the rest of the team gathered their bags and called their goodbyes, he searched desperately for a memory. The only one he could drag up was from more than a decade before.

Some time later, a darker thought filled his mind.

The only other option was that Izuku just had been skipping heats somehow. And that pissed him off for an entirely new reason.

…..

Izuku didn’t know why he thought they’d be able to keep going without a fight. That wasn’t who they were. They were arguments and biting words and seething tempers and teeth clenched in utter frustration. They were not, in fact, tender lovers who only had sweet words and soft touches for each other.

Still, Izuku let himself fall for the wonderful evening with all of its beautiful lights and cozy coats and hours of recreational skating and the way Katsuki had been so much more beautiful than anything else around them. The kiss they’d shared, the only kiss thus far, had made his knees weak, and he wanted to experience that sensation for the rest of his remaining days.

He’d been lulled into complacency by the feeling of what he thought may be love beginning to bloom between them, and hadn’t realized just how quickly his suppressants were running out.

Now, standing on the ice late at night, Izuku couldn’t help but be hyper aware of every little thing. The slight ache of his feet in his skates. The soft sound of his blades biting into the ice. The taste of the cake Satou had brought to practice earlier that day that Izuku had saved a piece of. Katsuki’s scent, full of anger and lust and pre-rut, congealing on his tongue until it was more of a taste than a smell. Katsuki’s eyes burning into him every time he stumbled across the ice or trembled in his hands or ran his hands through his curls. The heat beginning to burn him alive from the inside out, like he’d been freezing and then plunged into a hot tub.

Panting, Izuku stumbled through simple footwork he’d never had trouble with before. They slid to a stop, and Katsuki’s hands tightened on him. Izuku didn’t want to look at him, to see the disgust on his face. Because surely he would be disgusted. He would know that every negative thing he’d ever thought about Izuku would be true.

“Deku,” Katsuki’s voice was low, but furious, and when Izuku glanced up to meet his eyes in a flash of defiance, he saw that Katsuki knew. Knew all of his secrets and sins and wants.

“No.” He turned from his partner, hurrying towards the entrance with energy from a reserve he didn’t know he had. The reserve of terror.

“Deku!” Katsuki snapped, following him off the ice. Neither of them paused long enough to put their guards on, and somewhere in the back of his brain, the part that always thought about skating winced.

Izuku could feel Katsuki right on his heels, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off his body. Or was that Izuku’s own heat radiating back at him off his thermals? No, he’d taken off his thermals hours ago. It had to be Katsuki then with cayenne in his scent and possessiveness in his grip.

The grip that was currently wrapped around Izuku’s upper arm, jerking him to a stop just as he reached for his bag.

“Deku!”

“No, Kacchan!”

“We’re going to talk about this!”

Izuku whirled around to face Katsuki, the bleed through of Katsuki’s pre-rut fiery fueling him as he shouted, “What, Kacchan, what are we going to talk about? We never talk! And you know what, I’m not in the mood to get berated! I’m going to go home and go to bed!”

As if he hadn’t heard a single thing, Katsuki continued. “We’re going to talk about the suppressants!”

“No, we’re not!”

“I don’t understand, Deku. Why would you chance taking them after what happened when we were younger? I’ve been smelling them in your scent since we started skating together! Why are you still taking them?”

Izuku threw up his arms. “Well, guess what, Kacchan? I’m not taking them anymore. How wonderful! How amazing! How great for everyone, but me!” When his arms dropped back to his sides, he glared at Katsuki. “And stop pretending like you know what happened that day. You weren’t there. You’re making assumptions you have no place making.”

Katsuki's face fell slack, and it was the first time that Izuku could ever remember seeing that expression on his face. After a moment, it shifted back to anger. “What the fuck are you talking about? I was there!”

“No, you weren’t! My mom was the one who took me to the hospital!”

“I was the one who fucking found you!” Katsuki roared, “I was the one who knocked down your door and found you with all those pills in your stomach! Of course you wouldn’t fucking remember because you were too far in your goddamn head! I was the one who stuck my fucking fingers down your throat to make you puke them up! That was me! And you expect me to not care about you still taking suppressants even when you’re about to go into heat? I want to be your fucking mate, Izuku, of course I care!”

Izuku couldn’t hold himself back anymore. “I don’t want to have a heat!” His words were something between a scream and a sob, and they echoed deafeningly around the rink. He’d never said them aloud before, and he covered his face with his arms to run away from their truth. His breath came out as a shudder when he whispered, “I don’t want to have a heat, Kacchan.”

Strong arms wrapped tightly around him, and he immediately melted into the touch. Just like an omega. He hated it. Wanted to fight it. Wanted to stay angry just to feel something new.

Instead, like a switch being flipped, unwelcome searing heat pulsed through him. “No,” he moaned as that ever so distant, but unforgettable pain settled in his abdomen, “Not here. Not now.”

…..

Katsuki jerked away from Izuku as his scent flared like a supernova, overwhelming in its sudden sharpness. There was finally no trace of suppressants left. When he met Izuku’s eyes, it was to find them wide with pupils blown.

"I need- I need my- I need my nest. Kacchan, I need my nest. Not here. Not now. I need-" Izuku rasped, the hand on Katsuki’s arm the only thing seeming to keep him from doubling in on himself.

Katsuki crowded Izuku, burying his nose in the crook of the omega's neck, right up against his scent gland. ‘There! Right there!’ That's the scent he'd been wanting to smell underneath all of the chemicals and artificial hormones. Mint and a thunderstorm and now, warm summer apples. He exhaled shakily. It was so strong, and so wholly right.

"Kacchan," Izuku moaned, body trembling against his, heat radiating off him in waves, "Please, my nest."

"I've got you," Katsuki rasped against his throat, fighting every neglected instinct in his body that told him to, 'Mount. Mate. Rut. Heat. Mate. Mount. Mark. Mine.' Never before had his alpha been so insistent during his ruts -never in his life, period- but now his alpha was nearly screaming at him, pressed as far forward in his mind as Katsuki would allow. Screaming for him to assert his dominance, to take what was his. Fuck, but he didn't want to be like other alphas. "I'll get you back, Deku. Can you stand?"

"Just don't let go of me." Izuku's words were a whisper right against his ear, and it became just that much harder to think straight.

Was this what other alphas’ ruts were like all the time? Clouded? Focussed on one thing only? Driven mad by the mere thought of an omega in heat? He hated it, wanted it to stop, wanted to be in full control of his thoughts again. Still, there was his alpha right at the forefront of his mind, 'Mount. Mate. Mark. Mine.' He wished it would shut the fuck up long enough for him to rub his two remaining brain cells together. The two brain cells not currently taking the interstate down south.

"Can you put your shit on? It's freezing outside," Katsuki asked before he realized how stupid that actually may have sounded. If Izuku really was spiraling into heat, no amount of cold was going to affect him. It might still affect Katsuki though.

"No," Izuku moaned piteously, skin flushed red as his head lulled back on his shoulders.

"I know. I didn't think. But I need to get my stuff on."

"Let me help."

Together, they wrestled Katsuki into his coat, gloves and hat and each other out of their skates without breaking contact in some form or another. Izuku's fingers on the back of his neck. Katsuki's arm slung across Izuku's waist. Their foreheads pressed together. When Katsuki pulled their bags over one shoulder and Izuku slumped into his other side, he slipped the beanie, scarf and gloves he'd gifted Izuku onto him. "Just these. I know you're overheating, but that's not going to save your fingers or ears."

"My nest," Izuku whispered instead of answering, pressing closer into Katsuki's side, so close that there wasn't any space between them, “I don’t have- I need- A nest.”

By the time they got back to their apartment complex, Izuku had wiggled his way into Katsuki's jacket and he couldn't tell if he was hot because of Izuku or his rut was finally cresting. If he were a betting man, he would have bet on the latter.

“Deku, where’s your nest?”

Izuku wasn’t paying attention as he dragged the fluffy red blanket off his couch and onto the floor. There, he wrapped himself up tight, trembling as he slid to the floor with a moan.

Katsuki frantically searched the small apartment for where the idiot’s nest might have been. He checked the kitchen, bathtub, closet, bed and even beneath the bed. He came up frustratingly empty.

Hurrying back, wobbling a little with the ungodly hard-on he was toting, he crouched beside the omega. As gently as he could, he shook Izuku to try and rouse his attention. “Nerd, where’s your goddamn nest? I need to get you in it before I leave. And I need to leave sooner rather than later.”

Izuku blinked green eyes hazy with heat and pain up at him. His mouth hung wide, panting out small agonized breaths. “You can go, Kacchan, I’ll be fine.”

“What are you talking about? I can’t go anywhere until you’re safe in your nest! And where’s your heat supplies?”

“Don’t have any.”

Katsuki blood ran cold, distracting him long enough to catch his stupid alpha’s attention and point it in a different direction other than down. “What do you mean?”

Izuku’s eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I thought- I wasn’t expecting it. I thought- I’d be able- to find a way around it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Deku? No, you know what? Where’s your goddamn nest? I’ll dump you in it and bring half of my supplies over.”

“Don’t have one,” the omega moaned, the words increasing in volume to become a full blown wail.

“What do you mean you don’t have one!” Katsuki shouted, unconsciously mimicking Izuku’s volume and tone.

Izuku’s just sobbed desperately, curling in on himself within his blanket.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-” If the omega didn’t have a nest, there was no possible way he could stay in the apartment. He would make himself sick without one. Sick from fear and anxiety. Sick from discomfort and being unsafe. Katsuki had a solution, but at the same time, it wasn’t much of one at all. Because they had only just come to terms with each other, started courting. They hadn’t even sussed out the monumental mountain of bagage they had between each other. Still, Katsuki couldn’t leave his omega without food or water or safety.

Carding his hand through Izuku’s curls, he purred loudly to get his attention. “Izuku.”

His given name more than anything probably made Izuku’s head lift, eyes narrowed but focussed on him.

“Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, and it is crazy, and dangerous, but I can’t leave you alone in this apartment without everything you need.”

“Kacchan?”

“I have a nest. I built one. For you,” he said haltingly, even now terrified of being rejected, “Just in case you ever-”

“Yes!” Izuku cut him off, hand clawing out towards Katsuki to grip at his wrist, “Please, it hurts, please. I don’t want to be alone.”

Katsuki didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped his omega into his arms, blanket and all. He all but ran for the door, only restraining himself from actually running due to his precarious hold on his package.

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #decchan #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #omega!izuku #alpha!katsuki #figure skater au #no quirks au #my writing #sharpen your blades #tw: overdose

[edith-moonshadow]

I loved the first three seasons of AHS, in particular, Coven but when I sat down to watch Freakshow I couldn’t get into it and I thought it was just burnout but recently I tried again and I’m honestly finding it a chore to get through. The setting is pretty horror appropriate, the majority of performances are great and I love the fashion of the 1950s but something just isn’t connecting with me but I’m a terrible completist so I’ll probably complete it (hopefully it’ll finally connect with me but I’m already on episode four and no joy yet.)

But there was one part that made me think it would make a good Harringrove AU and it’s to do with the character of Jimmy Darling played by Evan Peters, (if you’ve seen the show you may already know where this is going) he’s a member of the freak-show and in one of the episodes either one or two I think they had a scene where he was for lack of a better way of putting it pleasuring frustrated housewives at a Tupperware party using his hand that has long incredibly thick fingers.

So I’m thinking about a story set in the same time period where Steve is married to a woman who is very cold towards him (she doesn’t really like physical affection) and therefore he’s very frustrated and touch starved. His wife goes to a Tupperware party and Steve turns up to pick her up and gets bored waiting outside so goes into the house but he gets lost and ends up in a back room where he encounters Billy. He thinks maybe he’s one of the other husbands in the same situation as him but Billy’s eyes light up when he sees Steve and it doesn’t take long until Billy is making Steve come harder than he ever has with his fingers.

Steve can’t stop thinking about the encounter, squirming in his bed at night trying to stifle the sounds that want to escape when he thinks about all the things Billy said to him and how much pleasure he got from his fingers.

Then his wife suggests they take a trip to the circus in town and Steve reluctantly agrees but when they arrive he makes eye contact with Billy and after helping his wife find a seat he finds himself in a tent at the back of the circus, Billy is delighted to see Steve hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him and it only takes a few words to get Steve out of his trousers once more.

This could start a secret affair between them that runs many risks, they’re two men in the 1950s, they come from very different backgrounds and at any moment the circus could move on to another town.

Could also do this as an Alpha/Omega story where Steve is a young beautiful Omega who married a wealthy older Alpha who only married him to look after his house and help him entertain important clients for his business (maybe the other Alpha has an erectile problem of some sort so has never been very into sex or can’t satisfy Steve.) So Steve is bored and frustrated with his life then he attends a Tupperware party with other Omegas and the host is very excited by this surprise that she has and Steve doesn’t know what’s going on just that when the other Omegas come back from the room they’re sent to they have a rosy glow to their faces and they all talk in hushed tones about how amazing it was, where did you find him? 

He hears something about a circus and is extra confused but he doesn’t really want to go back there but his friend who knows about his marriage tells him to go (“You won’t regret it, trust me.”) so he does not sure of what he’s going to encounter then he sees Billy, he’s a big strong young Alpha and Steve feels very unsure. Billy is intrigued by Steve from the moment he sees him, scenting him and growling in his ear (“Is nobody loving you Sweetheart, well that’s a damn shame.”) Steve feels so overwhelmed so he decides to give in, everyone else did and his Alpha will never have to know. Then he sees Billy’s hand and his hesitation returns but Billy just licks over his skin, a little growl in his voice and before Steve knows it he’s lying back on the bed with his legs spread wide. Billy’s fingers bring him more pleasure than he’s ever felt before and he selfishly wants more, Billy wants to give him more too but this isn’t the place for it. (if they were to knot at this party everyone would know due to how long it would take.)

Steve can’t stop thinking about his encounter with Billy, his Alpha is going away on a business trip the following week so Steve goes to the circus, (he feels a little insecure because he knows that Billy was there at the Tupperware party for that particular purpose but he can’t stop thinking about it) when Billy sees Steve he’s all over him, whispering in his ear about all the things he wants to do and Steve can’t resist. He invites Billy to his house after the show where Billy shows Steve all the things he’s been missing.

So hopefully Freakshow gets better for me also I’m wondering if there isn’t more to the Jimmy character (this might be my dirty mind) but the first time you see him he’s chatting up a waitress and Elsa shouts at him and says something about “What would happen when she sees all of you?” and I’m not saying their hinting at anything other than his hand but my mind did go elsewhere and that could technically play into the story also where Billy is big everywhere if you know what I mean.

#harringrove #alpha beta omega #top billy hargrove #bottom steve harrington #fic idea #minors dni #freakshow au

[multiharlot]

josslyn / tom holland x reader, harry holland x reader

summary: based off of josslyn by olivia o’brien. listen to it here :)

warnings: cursing, angst, implied smut, mentions of blood and having a breakdown (lmao been there done that) and a reader who’s definitely had enough of tom’s shit.

masterlist

I know we never said where we drew the line But I was in your bed almost every night I thought we made it clear how we felt, read the signs But now there's nothing left 'Cause you did nothing right

you never intended on falling in love with him. but he just made it so damn easy. and for a moment, you were sure that he loved you too. the way he’d gently cradle you as you sleepily lolled your head onto his shoulder during a netflix binge. or how he’d always make sure to hold you tight when walking through large crowds. of course, you two never disclosed what exactly you two were to each other. but that’s only because you thought the actions exchanged between you two spoke so much louder than any pile of substandard words either of you would be able to conjure anyways. you had let every i love you, and every sincere emotion pour out into the way you kissed him. the way you bit into his shoulder to contain the involuntary noises that spilled past your lips. the way he stared into your eyes, connecting your foreheads as you gave yourself to him entirely. he held you close, your tired body melting into his strong arms, and your heart collapsing as he pressed his lips gently to your forehead. he raked his fingers through your hair, humming softly. 

“i’m the luckiest man in the world.” he mumbled, causing a tired smile to grace your lips. 

“i mean...yeah.” you sighed happily, laughter erupting from his mouht cuasing his chest to vibrate against your cheek.

soon, the two of you were entangled in each other’s arms, reveling in the laughter echoing off the walls. your heart illuminated by the love you thought surrounded you two.

You had to go and ruin it So you could get a quick fuck I'm sure you had fun doing it And I won't make a big fuss

you first saw the photos of them two when you were seated on your best friends couch. the notifications on your phone were exploding, definitely more than normal. your screen lit up with twitter and instagram notifications and the texts began pouring through, following your social media mentions. your eyebrows furrowed as you reached over, grabbing the remote from your best friend’s lap and pausing the movie you two were previously engrossed in. 

“hey! it’s not time for our scheduled br- hey...what’s up?” they said, their tone softening as their sights fall onto you. 

your lip quivered as you scrolled through the paparazzi photos of tom and the beautiful tall blonde woman. your eyes skimming over the headlines and captions. scrolling past all of the comments and quickly typing her name into your instagram search bar. 

“ummm...hello? wanna tell me what’s happening?” your best friend asks, snapping their fingers in front of your face. 

“it’s uhh...it’s tom. he uhhhh...i think he’s seeing someone.”

“sorry...he’s what!?” they exclaim, squishing themselves next to you and peering onto your phone screen, gasping as they looked at the photos. 

“is that her?”

“yeah...yeah paps spotted them out together. holding hands and kissing and whatnot.” you mumble, a numb feeling spreading through your chest. 

you two continued to investigate her further. what you knew so far was that she was an instagram model of sorts. your best friend grabs your hand tightly, leaning their head on your shoulder.

“i’m so sorry...” they sigh.

“don’t. ummm...it’s fine. well it’s not but...it’s whatever.” you shrug, standing up off the couch. 

“y/n...” they sigh, and you just chuckle sadly. 

“no really it’s cool. it’s fine.”

But know we're off and we'll never be on again I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn Don't wanna fight, I just never wanna talk again I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn I know we weren't together but we're more than friends Said you couldn't see me while she gave you head So please, don't ever call again I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn

“y/n love i-”

you stick your hand up, closing his flat door behind you. 

“i just came here to get my stuff. don’t worry.” you mumble, harrison and the twins stood behind you two, staring awkwardly. 

tom pauses, his lips pursed slightly. 

“wh- what? y/n no.” he says, shaking his head and grabbing your arm as you attempted to walk past him.

you shrug, adjusting the empty bag on your shoulder. 

“i didn’t come here to talk.” you sigh, taking your arm from his hold and waving at the boys in the living room.

“hey boys, i’ll be quick. promise.” you say, a tight smile on your lips and you start throwing the random items you’d left in his flat into your bag. 

“no it’s...we’re gonna go. it was good to see you.” harrison says, smiling sympathetically at you. 

you nod, all of the boys giving you tight hugs and light head kisses as they walked past you. harry, however, clung tightly onto you. you two were always close. 

“i’m sorry.” he mumbles into your hair. 

“your not your brother, harry. don’t worry. i’m fine.” you say, nodding your head up at the tall curly haired boy. 

he just sighs, shaking his head at his brother as he walks out of the flat. 

“y/n can i please just explain-”

“no.” you say, walking past him and into the bedroom.

you pulled open the drawer he had designated for you, packing the clothes into the bag. 

“y/n please. i just...i was drunk and honestly once it started happening i just couldn’t think of anything else and i-”

“you’re really good at making things worse for yourself.” you say sarcastically, slamming the now empty drawer shut. 

“you deserve the truth and- can you look at me please!? can we talk about this like adults!?” he shouts, making you flinch. 

you sigh, flipping the last item, your hairbrush, in your hands. you tuck it into the bag, zipping it shut and throwing it back over your shoulder. 

“i didn’t come here to fight with you, tom.”

“don’t...don’t do that y/n. don’t shut your emotions off from me. yell at me. be angry, baby. hit me. scream at me. throw things. just please...talk to me.”

just for a second, you wanted to. you did. you wanted to scream and yell and throw his things out his own window. but you couldn’t. tom had taken enough from you, and you weren’t about to let him take your integrity too.

“no. what do i have to be angry about? sure we may have been more than friends, but like you said, it’s not like we were together anyways. here’s your key. i hope she was worth it.”

You didn't wanna be like the boys from before Well, look at what you did, 'cause you hurt me more You didn't have to lie like the truth is a chore I guess I can't be mad 'Cause I was never yours

the lack of emotion you were displaying was concerning to those around you. you continued on with your life. you posted things you would’ve normally posted. you went out with your friends, partied, drank, had a good time. it was almost as though tom had never existed. your best friend came by almost everyday just to check on you. as did harrison and the twins. and of course, you had convinced them you were fine. you were still eating and you were just fine. nothing like the way you used to be the many other times you’d had your heart broken by the men tom promised he’d never become. but you’d convinced yourself that you weren’t allowed to be angry at anyone but yourself. you let yourself believe that there was love blossoming in infertile soil. you were never his to begin with, so who were you to be angry when he denied being yours? this went on for a few weeks. you continued living your life as though these events had no effect on you. but everyone knew better. you knew better. you were in pain, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 

You had to go and ruin it So you could get a quick fuck I'm sure you had fun doing it And I won't make a big fuss But know we're off and we'll never be on again I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn

tom being who he was, and your affiliation with him, meant you were bombarded with press and tweets and messages from gossip outlets trying to get the scoop on the situation. so tom’s publicist had reached out to you, a non-disclosure agreement in hand. this, this was your breaking point. you were on your couch watching the great british baking show on netflix and judging the chefs as though either of you could do any better. then the knock came to your door. you sighed, pausing your show and walking over to your door expecting to see harrison and the twins or your best friend stopping by to come and check on you as they did, but instead, you were met face to face with tom’s publicist megan. 

“ummm...hi?” you say, your eyebrows furrowing as you clutched the sleeves of your sweatshirt. 

“hi. can i come in?” she asks, smiling sickeningly. 

“uhhh...sure.” you mumble, holding open the door for her and allowing her to step inside. 

she walks straight past you and into your kitchen, seating herself at your dining room table. 

“no. just make yourself right at home.” you grumble underneath your breath, locking the door behind you.

“so i’m just going to get straight to the point. i know you’re aware of all of this drama happening with you and tom and josslyn. so i thought i’d pop by and bring this over. just so we can assure that tom’s career isn’t-”

“hold on...i- i know you didn’t come by just to bring me a non disclosure agreement?” you scoffed, leaning forward on the table. 

“with tom’s new films premiering, it’s imperative that he’s not derailed by any scandals.” she explains, pulling the contract out of the manilla envelope, and sliding it across the table.

you wanted to keep your cool, because you understood. you really did. but for some reason, out of everything that’d happened. this was your breaking point. 

“are you fucking kidding me right now? you seriously think i’m a fucking liability? after how long since shit hit the fan for him, i still haven’t said a single fucking word. but at this point, i think i should! you’re not going to come into my house and speak to me as if i’m some fucking risk to tom’s career like he didn’t just fucking rip my heart out of my chest and throw it into the fucking garbage disposal. so you and this dumb ass contract, can get the hell out of my flat. and i swear to you, if you come back here with that shit, not only will i not sign it, but i’ll contact every fucking media outlet i could possibly think of and release an official statement on just how much of a piece of shit tom actually is. get the hell out.” you growl, and his publicist scoffs. 

“i’m afraid i can’t-”

“oh you can’t? cool. then you stay right there, and i’ll call the police to have you removed from my property. how’s that for bad publicity?”

Don't wanna fight, I just never wanna talk again I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn I know we weren't together but we're more than friends Said you couldn't see me while she gave you head So please, don't ever call again I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn

you sat on the floor of your kitchen, drained of energy and feeling completely empty. you weren’t sure what had come over you, but you didn’t regret it. you weren’t sure how long you were sitting there, but a soft knock flooded your ears. you sighed, pushing yourself up off the ground and pulling the door open, coming face to face with tom. your breath hitched in your throat and he fidgeted awkwardly. 

“i didn’t want this.” he says, and you look down at his hands, where the manilla folder was placed. 

you scoffed, snatching the envelope from his hands and pulling the contract out. 

“can i come in-”

“no.” you bluntly say as your eyes skimmed over the contents of the contract. 

you nodded you head, pretending to skim over the fine print. you grabbed a pen from your hallway table, and you could hear him let out a sigh of relief. 

“thank you y/n. i know i don’t deserve this but i-” his speech immediately stopped as he saw you scribble over the contract. 

‘NO’

you smiled, handing the contract back to tom. 

“i already told you. i don’t want to fight. and i don’t want to see you again. you made your bed, lie in it. i’m not signing shit. if you or your publicist show up again, i will be pressing charges, this is borderline harassment.” you deadpan, slamming the door in his face. 

you bit your lower lip, looking up at your ceiling, listening to tom pleading outside your door. shouting his apologies and attempting to get you to respond. 

“i don’t even care about this stupid contract y/n! i just want you! so go ahead, go to the media. tell everyone how shitty i am. i’m an idiot! is that what you want to hear!?” he shouts. 

“go home, tom!” you shout, your voice cracking slightly as the tears began spilling down your cheeks. 

“baby please...just open the door.” he says, leaning towards the door. 

you cup your hand over you mouth in attempt to silence your cries, and he sighs. you hear him walking off and when you hear the car start, you let the sobs escape. 

Can't believe I was so stupid Just another girl you ruined My friends said I shouldn't do it Should've listened, guess I blew it

shattered glass littered the floor as you continued to cry out. the months of emotions finally spilling out, and you couldn’t breathe. you tried, gasping for breath as you tugged at the roots of your hair, your cries becoming more and more panicked. you remembered your friends telling you that relationships like that never ended well. and at first, you thought they meant friends with benefits. because to the outside eye, that’s what you two seemed like. friends who sometimes liked to sleep with each other. but you could’ve sworn there was more there. you let yourself fall after having your heart broken so many times before. you so stupidly allowed yourself to hurt like this again. you let him break you. and now here you were. throwing picture frames and having a break down on your living room floor, praying that someone, anyone, could come and save you from yourself. you crawled across the ground, sobbing over the mess you’d made and attempting to pick up the pieces, shouting out when you sliced open the corner of your palm. 

“y/n!?” 

you didn’t bother looking up, you just continued trying to clean up the broken glass. a pair of hands grab yours and you look up, meeting harry’s soft eyes. 

“i- i can’t. it’s so messy and i need it clean. i need to clean it i-”

“love, come here. it’s okay. it’s okay.” he coos, taking you into his arms. 

your knees buckle underneath you and your butt hits the floor and harry pulls you onto his lap, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed. 

“it hurts. i can’t do it. it hurts.” you sob, the images of you and tom flooding your head, finally coming to terms that it was over. 

that he didn’t love you the way you wished he had. he didn’t love you the way you loved him. 

“i know, darling. come here, let me see.” sam whispers, crouching down next to you and pulling your hand up from your lap and examining the bloody palm, harrison crouching down next to him. 

harry continued running his fingers through your hair, placing gentle kisses to your hairline. 

“you don���t need stitches, so let’s get this cleaned up and get you into bed, huh?” harrison smiles softly, pushing your hair off of your wet cheeks. 

you hiccuped, nodding tiredly and the boys help you stand up, and harrison takes you in his arms, carrying you over the messy floor, the glass crunching underneath his shoes.

“i’m sorry.” you whimpered, and he sighs, placing you on the counter. 

“you have no reason to apologize, dear. you’re going to be alright, yeah?”

you nod, but you knew, you wouldn’t be alright. not for a while.

But know we're off and we'll never be on again I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn Don't wanna fight, I just never wanna talk again I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn I know we weren't together but we're more than friends Said you couldn't see me while she gave you head So please, don't ever call again I hope that it was worth it, fucking Josslyn

your head was perched gently on top of harry’s shoulder. his fingers combing softly through your messy hair as the two of you stared blankly at the movie playing on your tv screen. neither of you truly paying attention to it. your head was too polluted with toxic thoughts and concerns over tom, and harry was preoccupied looking at you. his heart aching for the girl he’d let fall into the hands of the wrong man. the girl he’d loved. harrison had gone out to buy you more first aid supplies for your hands and sam was downstairs, cleaning up your living room. 

“he came by today. he wanted me to sign an NDA.” you mumble, feeling harry tense beside you. 

“he may be my brother, but he’s an absolute div.” he scoffs. 

you shrug. 

“i get it. it’s his career. but i wasn’t gonna say anything.” you sigh, and harry leans his head on top of yours. 

“i know, love. i know. but don’t think about tom. he’s dumb and he doesn’t know what he’s lost. how about you get some sleep, huh?” he smiles softly, massaging your scalp in attempt to get you to fall asleep. 

your eyes shut softly, as you hummed softly, allowing the relaxation to take over your body. and harry watched you fall asleep, the peaceful look replacing the melancholic one that coated your face only moments before. he thought this might’ve been his own sick and twisted version of if you love her, let her go, and if she comes back then it was meant to be. he saw how much you loved tom, and despite it killing him inside, he let you go. and he couldn’t help but think back to the conversation when you asked him if it was alright if you’d gone after tom. he can’t help but think that if he’d said what he wanted to in that moment, you wouldn’t be here, hurting. he sighed, placing his hand on your jaw and running his thumb over your tear stained cheek. 

“i hope that it was worth it, tom.”

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #harry holland x reader #angst #harry holland imagine #x reader

[ikingsley]

Ina x MC: Post New Year’s

Ina x MC: Post New Year’s

Summary: Ina and Luna talk about their New Year’s celebrations and future holiday plans.

Warnings: Fluff, some angst.

Tag: @samanthadalton

Author’s Note: A little fic that’s been in my drafts. It’s actually the first fic I’d ever written, but I just decided to publish it (after changing the holidays lol). For context, Ina and Luna are close but professionalism!!!

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

Ina sat at her desk staring blankly at the stack of essays she had left to grade. Despite the fact that she had much to accomplish, she couldn’t seem to focus. Her mind wandered freely; she remembered the lively discussion in her Anthro 101 class, her fabulous New Year’s celebration with Lilian and Charlotte...

Her face fell when she realized that her publishing deadline was for the following day. “Crap! Simon’s going to be livid,” she said as she ran a hand through her hair, a manifestation of her stress.

“Good morning Prof!” Luna said cheerily as she entered the office, bringing Ina to the present. The professor looked up quickly, grunted in reply, and continued to pretend to read essays.

Luna pulled out the chair and sat across from Ina, placing two cups of coffee on the desk. “What’s got you so indifferent towards me all of a sudden?” Luna asked. “That’s assuming I was interested in you in the first place,” Ina quipped. “Hilarious. Seriously though. Talk to me, Ina,” Luna replied as she looked straight into Ina’s eyes. She’s drop dead gorgeous, Luna thought silently.

Meanwhile, Ina froze momentarily at the use of her first name. Instinctively, she broke eye contact with Luna and looked around, only to realize that she was accompanied only by her TA in her office. It still amazed her how one night altered her life forever; how could she be so paranoid because of someone yet still be attracted to them?

Ina rose out of her chair and walked across the room. She paced around the bookcase, absentmindedly reading the titles of her collection of books. Luna looked over at Kingsley, noticing her changed form since before break. “You still haven’t answered my question,” Luna reminded her.

Luna was beginning to lose patience with Ina. As much as she tried to get Ina to open up to her, she still felt shut out from Ina’s life. Sure she knew a lot more about Lilian and Charlotte than most students at Belvoire, but then again, she was Ina’s TA. Even though Zoey pleaded with Luna to ask Ina about the status of their ‘relationship,’ Luna couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want to further strain their, for a lack of a better term, connection. Did Ina want to be with me or not, Luna thought for the umpteenth time.

Luna was lost in her own thoughts when Ina’s voice brought her back into reality. “I just have so many deadlines to meet,” Ina said wistfully. Her tired eyes stared wearily into Luna’s sympathetic ones. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. You amaze me sometimes, you know,” Luna said with a smile. “Only sometimes?” Ina shot back quickly. Luna chucked softly. “Come on, let’s get through these essays so you can stop giving me sad puppy eyes.”

The two worked in comfortable silence as Kingsley graded the essays and handed them to Luna to put into the grading software. When there ceased to be essays left in the stack, Luna appropriately broke the silence.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice your, uh, new figure,” Luna joked. “Hey! I had a good, satisfying break,” Ina replied defensively. Luna smirked but dropped the topic; she always thought Ina always looked great.

“Well, what’d you do for New Year’s, Professor?” she asked as she made small talk. “It was quite lovely. I was able to see Lilian and Charlotte.” “So what you’re saying is, you entertained Charlotte while Lilian had to do all the New Year’s cooking?” Luna retorted. Even though Kingsley rolled her eyes at her TA, she still had a grin on her face.

“I admit, cooking is a weak spot for me. Either way, I had a wonderful time. Charlotte and I read a lot together,” Ina remembered fondly. That kid’s gonna be the next Marie Curie, Luna thought. Though she admired Ina and swooned over her skills with children, Luna replied cleverly. “Did you make Charlotte suffer through one of your ‘anthropology dictates human life’ tangents?” “Given the fact that you wanted to be my TA so desperately, I wouldn’t complain about my anthropology tangents,” Ina said smugly. Luna could only hold her poker face for a few seconds, but quickly burst into laughter. Ina followed, and their full laughter filled the office.

“Anyway, enough about me. How was your break?” Ina asked. Luna laughed to herself before replying. “Well, I went back to the farm. And it was, well, exhausting. I was home for maybe three seconds before Papa told me I had to go clean the stable.” Ina had to cover her mouth as she cackled. “Talk about a crappy start to the holiday,” Ina remarked. “Stop it,” Luna said rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Luna,” Ina replied innocently. “The dad jokes. They’ve gotta go, Professor,” Luna said. “Never,” Ina said laughing heartily. 

Desperately trying to find another conversation topic, Luna blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “I don’t think I could ever imagine you doing manual labor,” Luna said as she poked at Ina’s pride. Ina’s next reply shocked Luna. “Actually, my uncle had a farm in Upstate New York. We’d visit every summer and he’d put Lilian and I to work,” Ina remembered nostalgically. “It’d be nice to see what farm chores I remember from those days.”

Luna and Ina gazed at each other, lost in their own thoughts and frankly, each other’s eyes. Luna loved how open and warm Ina could be if she wanted to. It was one of the main features that attracted her to Ina when they met; she loved how free and light-weight their conversations could be. Luna hated the protective walls Ina put up in the name of ‘professionalism.’ She could only imagine what Ina was thinking at the time, but she knew that Ina couldn’t deny their connection and how much they just clicked with each other.

“Anyways, I’m going back to the farm for the Epiphany soon,” Luna said after their prolonged period of silence. “Oh, that sounds wonderful, Luna,” Ina replied dryly, still lost in her memories.

Luna struggled with her next question to keep the conversation alive. Her brain fought against itself. Should she ask? Should she just leave it as they were? I mean, they did make progress today, did they not? Luna decided to jump in with both feet and shoot her shot. She knew she’d regret it if she didn’t at least ask. Not to mention the fact that Zoey would berate her if she didn’t.

“Ina,” Luna said sternly. “Look at me for a second, seriously.”

Ina sucked in a breath and looked deeply into Luna’s eyes. She had an inclination as to what Luna would ask, but this time, she tried to force herself to not let her walls up. She could hear Lilian’s voice ringing in her head. If what you’re telling me is true, you're falling for her, Ina. You’ll regret it if you lose her, she won’t stick around forever.

Ina trembled with anticipation, and Luna finally spoke up. “I know we’re in a bit of a...umm...confusing place right now. Well honestly, I don’t even know if there’s an us right now.” Luna chuckled as she reached forward and clasped Ina’s hands. “Either way, I’d love for you to come to the farm. For the Epiphany. So you can see how many farm chores you remember from your childhood, of course.” The women smiled at each other fondly. “Really though, we’ve got something I can’t explain, but I know you feel it too.” Ina’s heart throbbed in her chest. Whatever they were, they did have something magical. “I’d love to, Luna,” Ina said tenderly. Luna’s heart filled with joy.

Both women got up from their chairs and met at the halfway distance. Ina’s eyes bore into Luna’s. Luna cupped Ina’s cheek and Ina could no longer hold back. She pulled Luna closer and kissed her passionately. Ina could taste the sweet coffee Luna had just consumed, while Luna tasted Ina’s bitter coffee on her tongue. The two were almost out of breath when Ina’s phone rang. Damn, they both thought, especially Luna.

Just when Luna had finally got through to Ina, she was interrupted. She angrily stole a glance at Ina’s phone, but it was face down.

Ina looked at the caller and shot Luna an apologetic look. “Sorry, I have to take this,” she muttered.

Even though Ina wasn’t whispering, Luna couldn’t focus on the words Ina was saying. Who could’ve interrupted their special moment? she thought fully irritated. It was only when Ina softly touched her should that Luna came back to awareness.

“Luna?” Ina asked as she placed a hand on Luna’s shoulder. “Sorry. Zoned Out. Who was that anyways?” Luna asked inquisitively. She wanted to know who had the audacity to ruin their moment.

“Just Lexi,” Ina replied. UGH, of course, Luna thought. How. DARE. She. “What did she want?” Luna asked. She couldn’t even try to hide her annoyance. “She was just asking about my upcoming paper,” Ina said evenly. “That and trying to flirt with you?” Luna mocked. “Well, I suppose. But she's got nothing on you,” Ina jumped in quickly.

Both women were surprised with Ina’s words. “I-” Ina began but failed to finish her sentence. A flash of recognition passed through Ina’s eyes, and from that moment, Luna knew the answer to her previous question had changed.

“I’m sorry Luna, I cannot accompany you to your home. I just...I can’t,” Ina replied, backing away from Luna, enough so that she could no longer feel the heat radiating from Luna’s body.

“I figured,” Luna said both irately but also heartbroken. Luna began to pick up her belongings, and on her way out of the office, she grabbed what remained of her now-cold coffee and threw it in Ina’s face.

Ina stepped back instinctively, but she agreed that she had fully deserved it. “Wait- Luna!,” Ina sighed. Despite the shock, Ina tried to follow after Luna to explain, but it was futile. Luna stormed out of the office and slammed the door shut.

Ina raked a hand through her hair and kicked her desk angrily. She’d done it again, just like Lilian had told her not to. Why don’t I ever take Lilian’s advice to heart, she thought falling into the armchair, letting out a sob.

#ina kingsley #ina x mc #luna garcia

[knives-out20]

Knocking Boots - Captain Jack Sparrow x Male!OC

Fandom: Pirates Of The Caribbean (2003-2017)

Pairing: Riley Blackwell (OC) x Captain Jack Sparrow

Warnings: !NSFW!, Smut obviously, Swearing, Faggotry, Praise kink, Jack literally being the king of consent, Gay horny pirates need I say more, Dick stuff but y’know its a given, They have a safe word and safe action guys seriously we’re fine, Dirty talking AND sweet talking,

Notes: If you see this, no you didn’t. Riley doesn’t always bottom, because trust me y’all Jack is JUST as much of a pillow princess as Riley can be, especially if he’s ‘too lazy to do all the work’. I’ll probably delete this SO FAST LMFAOOO I haven’t done this since that shitty Joshua x Aldo one months ago, I literally swore off writing smut after that but I deadass couldn’t help myself. This isn’t placed in a specific movie/between specific movies, so go wild with when you think this is. No spellcheck, we die like men.

Jack and Riley hung around the captain’s cabin of the Black Pearl, Jack sat at the table and Riley standing against a wall. 

Riley inhaled slowly, though sadly his lack of scent blocked him from smelling the rum, the salty sea, and other such smells that every other pirate was long used to.

“Y’know doing that doesn’t really do anything for you, mate” Jack reminded, eyes on his closed compass. “You lost your sense of smell many moons ago, if y’even ever had it.”

Riley pushed himself off of the wall, standing up straight. “Thank you, Captain obvious” he teased, glancing over at Jack and giving him a grin.

Jack returned his gaze, eyebrows raising as he showed Riley a fake smile. “Watch it, love.”

Riley softly arched a brow, left pointer and middle finger padding at his neck. “Bit strange, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

Riley pulled a sturgeon face. “Usually, we’re being pulled this way ‘n’ that, up, down, sideways, left, right, everywhere in bloody death-defying ventures. But now...we’re not on the verge of dying. I’m not losing you, you’re not losing me, we’re not out looking for something, we’re finally getting some damned peace” he explained. “Not that I’m complaining, it’s a relief to finally not be worrying about your well-being, but then again...I’m not used to not bloody worrying.”

Jack chuckled airily. “Finally have me safe ‘n’ sound, and you’re annoyed about it?”

“I bloody said I wasn’t complaining-”

“I’m teasing, rose” Jack cut Riley off. He took off his hat, setting it aside on the table. “Quite nice, isn’t it? Running this way and that is tiresome, sometimes, even I’ll admit” Jack confessed, steadily standing up. He shrugged off his dark coat, placing it over his chair. “More time with you, alone. Or at all, both is fine, honestly.”

Riley crossed his arms, his blue eyes being one (or, well, two) of the brightest things in the room as he watched Jack advance on over. Once Jack came close enough, he grabbed the Captain’s narrow hips and pulled him closer, head tilted slightly. 

“There’s that needy attitude again.”

“Shut it” Riley whispered, leaning in a bit. “I ever tell you how breathtaking you are under the candlelight?”

“Aye. You usually say that under any light, actually” Jack shrugged.

“Because it’s bloody true, dear” Riley shook his head, gaze and smile melting into an expression of hopeless love.

Jack admired Riley for a moment, before asking him something. “Can I kiss you?”

Riley clicked his tongue, nodding. “Always” he whispered.

Jack gently cupped Riley’s cheek, the familiar prickling of Riley’s designer stubble on his palm giving him a sense of safety; of home. His thumb subconsciously starting stroking Riley’s cheek, an automatic thing he happened to do. Jack couldn’t quite place why, maybe it was a reminder to himself that Riley is still there with him and isn’t planning on going anywhere, or maybe it’s just his need to feel Riley under his touch. Either way, he simply couldn’t get enough.

“I’m sorry, I’m expecting a kiss right now, if you’re still up for it” Riley joked, tapping his bottom lip with his right pointer finger.

Jack playfully rolled his eyes, leaning in and pressing his lips to Riley’s. One with a less homey sense to it, as it was obviously more romantic and intimate. Being with everything Riley and him had been through, Jack secretly cherished each and every kiss they shared, no matter the setting nor where the kiss was placed. 

Who knows when a simple kiss could be their last?

Jack pulled Riley close to him with both hands, in a low-key way, feeling safe enough to close his eyes and savor in the moment. Feeling safe around someones energy is a different kind of intimacy than the one that most people are used to, one that he believes only Riley and him have. 

Riley loved kissing Jack, because kissing him never felt like something on his to-do list (though, Jack was constantly at the top of Riley’s to-do list), or a chore. He never felt as if he had to kiss Jack because the two are romantically involved, like he had with men who weren’t Jack. Kissing Jack, to Riley, was that of a fun activity, or a reward for finding the one, so to speak.

Jack’s lips were on the smaller, rounder side, his lips are full, too. He doesn’t take much care of them, more-so himself, but Riley knew them to be softer than a warm bed. Then Riley’s were the complete opposite in looks: wide, and a little on the thinner side. Riley took better care of himself than Jack did with himself, but Riley will reluctantly admit that his lips are a bit dry, most nights. Jack still loved them all the same.

Despite the listless differences between their attributes, Jack’s and Riley’s lips fit ever so perfectly when they kiss. As if they were carved from the same stone, or made for each other. 

Every piece of their bodies were perfectly made for each other, it seemed. Riley’s hand could fit perfectly when holding Jack’s. Jack could wrap himself around Riley and they would fit like two pieces of a puzzle. Riley could place his hand on Jack’s neck and it wouldn’t be too big or too small.

And in this moment, it was their lips that fit each other. Riley kissed Jack as he held the Captain, recalling the idea that his hands were made for holding Jack in any way, shape, or form, he just fit so perfectly. He tasted the rum on Jack’s lips, like it was the only thing he ever could- or wanted to- taste. After all, both Jack’s lips and rum gave Riley a major sugar rush-like feeling.

Jack pulled away from the kiss for air, keeping his lips against Riley’s. “Can you bloody take this off?” He inquired, in more of an actual questioning tone than the pleading tone anyone would expect to hear in the given situation. Jack tugged at Riley’s black coat, specifically the collar despite meaning the clothing item as a whole.

Riley nodded, pulling his hands away from Jack’s person to pull the coat clean off and toss it onto a nearby chair. What was under that coat was always the same, a long-sleeved black button-up with a red double-buttoned waistcoat over that. Sometimes just the waistcoat, unless Riley felt cold. Silence followed, and he arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna ask me to take these buggers off, too?” Riley asked, tugging his waistcoat and button-up.

Jack gulped. “Only if y’want to. I’d never force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to, mate. Willingly, of course.”

Riley cooed, reconnecting his lips to Jacks as he worked on unbuttoning his waistcoat. Most would think that oh, double the buttons, double the amount of time. But Riley’s grown accustomed to taking off his waistcoat that it’s second nature, he’s very quick at it nowadays. He pulled away from Jack to work it off, folding it and holding it in one hand. “Could you be-rid of this, for me?” He tapped Jack’s smaller, unbuttoned waistcoat, which was forgotten in a flash with how fast Jack took it off, after his belt, weapons, and any other effects. Riley chuckled, “needy much?” He teased, throwing his waistcoat onto a table.

“Shut up” Jack scoffed, the both of them unbuttoning their shirts.

“Can I kiss you, now?” Riley slid his hand over Jack’s lower back, pulling him closer for some skin-on-skin action.

Jack pressed his forehead against Riley’s, smirking. “You may.”

Riley’s other hand found the back of Jack’s neck, cradling the back of his head. He inched closer, kissing Jack for the third time. It was hungrier than the others, now that Jack and Riley both knew that the other knew exactly what they wanted.

Jack pulled away, cupping Riley’s cheek and talking against his other one. “Can I go down on you?” He purred, neediness showing at this point but he’d shut it off like a switch if Riley were to seem the least bit uninterested. 

Riley nodded, turning and pushing Jack onto the bed. He crawled on top of him, grunting when Jack flipped them around.

Jack straddled Riley down, using one hand to pull off his faded, red bandanna. He set the bandanna aside, along with the deer shinbone that usually stuck out of it. “Can we try it like this tonight?” Jack questioned, gesturing to how he was currently on top of Riley. “Let me take care of you, love.”

Riley hummed, nodding. He watched Jack intently, propping himself onto his elbows as the Captain took off his pants. Riley followed suite, until his rings weren’t even on his hands and Jack wasn’t wearing any bracelets. 

Jack pinned Riley down to the bed, face disappearing to the crook of his scarred neck. “I could stay here all bloody day” he mumbled, fluttering kisses down Riley’s neck. “All I ever want to do, Rye, is- is run me hands through your hair, all damned day, and kiss your beautiful neck” he admitted, inhaling Riley’s secure musk.

Riley tilted his head up, smiling lazily. “Anything else?”

“Oh, darling, why tell you when I could easily show you?” Jack hummed, fingers dancing down the side of Riley’s body like he had a million times before, knowing his partner better than the back of his hand. He continued his gifts of loving kisses, trailing down Riley’s body, his way of admiring his own work of art.

Riley’s fingers smoothly tangled into Jack’s dreads, course fingers in the soft locks always giving him a feeling like solace. He tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling in content, quite glad that a majority of the work didn’t befall onto him tonight.

Jack worked his way back up to Riley’s neck, becoming more and more touchy by the second. He pressed against Riley hungrily, biting down on a safe spot on Riley’s neck.

Riley grunted quietly, eyelids fluttering as Jack did what he did best.

“What do you want, Riley?” Jack urged, ready to stop if Riley were to give a signal. His hand met Riley’s dick, thumb softly stroking. “Tell me what you want.”

Riley dug a hand into Jacks hair, having been worked up very quickly. “You,” he breathed, all his senses practically overloading with his need for Jack. “You, Jack. Please.”

Jack chuckled lowly, pulling Riley’s hand away from him and pulling away, himself.

Riley’s blue eyes followed Jack’s every distinct move, as the man went to go get some aloe vera and come back.

Jack took a bit of the gel, rubbing it onto his hands. “What’s our safe word again, love?” He asked, eyebrows raised expectantly. Jack assumed Riley remembered their safe word.

“Wicked.” Riley answered obediently.

“And safe action?”

Riley pat the bed three times, doing so again with his hand furled into a fist. “If I pat the bed three times, fist or not.”

“Aye” Jack nodded, proudly. He maintained eye contact with Riley as he lathered his dick up with the aloe vera gel, breathing at a ragged pattern as his mind raced with ideas of all that he could do to Riley. “Do you still want this?”

Riley nodded eagerly, long used to Jack’s constant inquiries on whether he still wanted to do something or not. “I want you, Jack-”

“How badly?”

“So bloody bad” Riley licked his lips slowly, eyeing Jack like always.

Jack grinned, “good boy.” He praised, covering two fingers in the gel and teasing them around Riley’s entrance.

Riley squirmed a bit beneath him, having never gotten used to the feeling. His movements were less jerky than they were when Jack and him first started having sexual escapades, but he wouldn’t lie, it was always uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?” 

Riley nodded, reaching up and tucking Jack’s dreads behind his shoulders; this gave him a clearer view of Jack’s face. AKA a sight that none of the seven wonders of the world could ever even begin to compare to. “Always feels weird, is all.”

Jack nodded back at him, tossing the aloe vera aside and wiping his fingers. He lined himself up with Riley, pausing to simply stop and stare down at Riley. And this was far from being meant to be taken in a creepy way, Jack must say. He, cliche enough, always caught himself gazing at Riley on various occasions, ever since he was 18. Something about Riley was just so enrapturing, Jack swears he’d choose exploring Riley Blackwell and all that he is, over any sea or ocean, any day.

But enough of that, now.

Jack glanced down at his view of Riley below-the-waist, seeing Riley was just about as hard as he is. He hummed- intriguing. Nonetheless, there was work- well, a pirate- to be done. Jack exhaled quietly, locking eyes with Riley. “Ready?”

“Yes” was all Riley gave Jack, which is exactly what he needed to hear. With Riley, he always needed the presence of a ‘yes’ rather than the lack of a ‘no’, that always made what they did so much more enjoyable for him. 

Jack winked down at him, slowly sliding into his beloved.

Riley sucked in his breath upon impact, shoulders rising slightly.

Jack knew that was a good sign, so he slowly pushed his length into Riley. At that point in time, he knew full and well Riley could take all of it. “Is this okay?” Jack asked in a hushed tone, droplets of concern sprinkled over the inquiry. 

Riley nodded, relaxing into the activity. “I like that” he answered, repeating it mindlessly when Jack began thrusting softly. 

Jack smiled once more, hips thrusting against the underside of Riley’s smooth thighs. He decided to show mercy on Riley and go slowly throughout, after all he did say he wanted to take care of Riley tonight. If Jack hadn’t said that, he would have been sure to make Riley like how he was when Jack first met him: stuttery, shivery, and overall not like he usually is now. It’s a wonderful sight. “Do you want me to stop?” He piped up.

“Don’t stop,” Riley’s fingers curled, gripping the bed sheets but not in any way that expressed pain. “Don’t stop, don’t bloody stop, please” he begged, music to Jack’s ears.

“Feel good, eh?” Jack pushed, feeling a bit cocky but holding himself back from going any faster than Riley would’ve wanted him to. “Does this feel good?” He reworded.

“Feels so good, Jack” Riley mewled, putty beneath the Captain.

Jack grunted under his breath, brown eyes darting over very square inch of Riley’s body that was in his direct view. He had memorized it a thousand times over, but this was one treasure he was never tired of having, of holding, of looking at. But unlike any treasure, Riley’s a person, a human being. Not some shiny object. In Jack’s mind, he’d call Riley ‘treasure’, but he was sure that Riley’s so much more than that. 

“Jack,” Riley moaned, head tilting up, eyes falling closed as he swore softly.

Jack was pulled back down to reality when Riley called him, unknowingly speeding up his thrusts. “Yea, darling?”

“Can you go slower-?”

Jack gulped, nodding and immediately slowing his rhythm. “Sorry- got ahead of me-self” he apologized, reaching down and cupping Riley’s cheeks. “That better?”

“Right there, yes” A sedated smile slid onto Riley’s inviting lips, giggling airily. “More.”

“You look so pretty when you ask for more” Jack praised once more, thumb stroking at a leisurely pace. “You’re doing so well, Riley.” He added, the satisfaction on Riley’s face telling him more than enough. Jack traced one hand down Riley’s torso, grabbing his dick like before. 

Riley’s breath hitched when he felt Jack begin to pump, fingers stroking and squeezing down below. 

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, more than bloody okay, fuck-”

Jack chuckled, thrusting into Riley in a recurrent pace as his hand went to work at doing something he happened to do best: pleasing Riley. He was brought to cloud 9 as his waist swayed back and fourth, Riley mumbling “I’m close” ringing a bell in his head. “Hm?”

“I’m close, Jack” Riley repeated, head turned to the side.

Jack let go of Riley, leaning in and invading Riley’s personal space to sloppily kiss his neck. He bit down, tugged at skin, left a few marks, doing what he knew Riley would like. As long as Jack’s ears were being met with Riley moaning, groaning, and calling out his name, he was far from stopping. “Come for me, dear. Come for me, Riley.”

***

Jack collapsed beside Riley, the only noise in the air being their heavy panting and the sea rocking against the boat, like their bed had been against the wall. He tiredly reached an arm out, grabbing Riley and tugging him closer. 

Riley wrapped his body around Jack, mind falling back to earth from the nirvana it had just reached. “That was so...good” he slurred.

Jack exhaled through his nose, staring blankly at the wall. “You told me that one too many times” he teased, not denying that he was happy.

“Shut up” Riley breathed, smiling against Jack’s bare neck. “I love you” he told, breath heavy as his eyelids felt.

Jack’s smile grew from ear to ear, holding Riley close to his person. “I love you too, Riley.”

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