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#just sit right back and you'll hear a tale
lastofthelovesongs · 1 year
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NEW TATTOO ALERT!!
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It's Barbossa's and Elizabeth's swords 😁
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peachesofteal · 4 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader - reader POV
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You have a problem.
You miss your neighbor.
He's been gone for two and a half weeks, and every day you catch yourself holding your breath, listening for him next door. Watching for the light on his balcony, checking your phone relentlessly.
You've been worrying, anxiety turning into a gnawing ache beneath your ribs, wondering about how he is, what he's doing, if he's okay. If he's safe.
He'll text you. Right? When he's home? He said he would, didn't he? You're not sure. Not sure of anything when it comes to him, confusing thoughts and feelings turning over and over in your head every second, twisted up and tangled in your heart.
You've friend zoned yourself, you know it. Relying on him too much, asking him for help all the time, inviting him for dinners but too afraid to try to take the next step. And didn't you do it to yourself anyway? Didn't you ask him to babysit for you, so you could go out on a date with some asshole that didn't even show? He's your friend. He's your neighbor.
Yeah but he asked you to go for dinner, the night you were sick. And he rushed to you and Emma when that creep was following you in the park. Doesn't that mean something?
He asked you AND Emmaline to dinner, not like on a romantic date. And he did the same thing anyone would do, if they thought their friend was in trouble, didn't he?
He doesn't act like your neighbor. He acts more like... a husband, than anything else.
Not knowing is confusing, and on top of your grief, it makes you feel a little more vulnerable than you care to admit, but you can't deny your own truth. You like him. Even Emmaline likes him, little face smiling up at him every chance she gets, staring at him like he's the whole world. Maybe he is. You can't help but swoon over the way she interacts with him, how she settles so easily with him, how she coos and babbles at him like she's having a whole conversation with him. When he walks into a room, she lights up like the sun, happy baby giggles and everything, the sweet sounds of her glee at her favorite person's face like music to your ears. So unfair. You suffered for sixteen hours trying to give birth to her, alone... and he comes around for a few months and all the sudden you've been replaced.
You can't blame her too much, you guess. You get it. He's... something else. Something you're not sure you understand. Something you don't know you're ready for.
Still, you think he might feel the same way.
You shake your head. Stop. You're getting so far ahead of yourself.
Which is why you've convinced yourself that when he's home, the next time you see him, you're just going to buck up and do it. You're going to tell him how you feel. No matter how hard it is.
You've even practiced what you'll say. Staring at yourself in the mirror nervously, reciting different ways to say 'hey Simon I really like you and was wondering if you want to go out on a date even though I have a baby and am basically a widow.'
Emmaline cries, announcing that she's awake, and you're so quick to soothe her, holding her to your chest, whispering a good morning to her, rubbing her back and tummy as you always do. You think some people might say you're spoiling her, that you're not letting her cry long enough, that you're teaching her bad habits or manners but you can't help it. Her father died before she was even born. You're the only thing she has in this world, the only person that gives her love, that makes her feel safe-
or at least, you used to be.
You hear your neighbor in his flat hours and hours later. Well past sunset, Emmaline already sleeping in her crib, your dishes already done, little chores taken care of, and you're sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, watching a movie at a low hum.
Was that- is he?
You sit straight up, straining to listen. It takes a second, but eventually, you recognize the tell tale sound of an interior door closing, and then the balcony glows with the light from the inside.
He's home. You take a large gulp of wine, and a deep breath. Just go over there, and tell him how you feel.
Your fingers curl into a fist, hesitantly knocking at his door, holding your breath. When there's no response, you try again, a little louder, and then feel immense relief when the lock clicks.
Until it opens.
Simon doesn't look like himself. He looks lost. Haunted. There's remnant of black grease around his eyes and instead of being maskless or wearing the usual cloth one, his head is mostly covered by a balaclava bearing a skull, and his eyes are blank. Dark. Something is off.
"Hi." You squeak, and cringe inwardly, stomach flipping like you're on a carnival ride. You raise the two bottles of beer that you brought over with a meek smile, gesturing to them and the monitor. "Thought we could um... try this again?"
"No." His refusal is flat, rough, and you blink in surprise. No?
"Oh- I uh... just thought-"
"It's not a good time." He cuts you off, and then before you can even get another word out, the front door closes in your face, leaving you outside in the hall, bewildered. Hurt.
Guess he doesn't like you after all.
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luveline · 5 months
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Hi! I was hoping you’d write a James or Remus fic, literally anything you want just make it super fluffy, thanks!
modern au, fem
"You have training in half an hour. What are you doing?" 
James looks up from his games console with a frown. "What?" 
"You have rugby training in half an hour, Jamie. You haven't had lunch or anything." You frown as he goes back to his game. "James, this is terrible time-keeping." 
"Sorry, I can't pause it! It's that thing. Just– fuck, two seconds my lovely beautiful darli– fuck me!" 
Curious, you creep around the bedroom to the side of the bed where he's sitting with a hunched back. "Oh. I never should've let you try. I've turned my gym mad boyfriend into a degenerate." 
You honestly believe that James should spend his time doing what makes him happiest (so long as he spends time with you, too), and for him that's rugby and weight training. They're not solely independent from one another, but they also don't always coincide, and so he spends a large majority of his time up and active. You spend some of that time active but more of it on different hobbies, including the games console. "How long have you been playing?" you ask, leaning down to stroke the thick wave of his hair from his forehead. 
"Just an hour while you were, uhm. What were you doing?" 
You kiss his forehead. "Meditating."
He laughs. "Wait, were you actually? I want to meditate with you." 
"I was doing the washing. Basically meditation if you try hard enough." He splats someone on the game, then a second person, a third in quick succession. "Are you better than me?" 
"No way, shortcake." He splats a fourth person with impressive dexterity, narrowly avoiding his own death. "I'm trying to get coins for you so you can buy that thing you want." 
James is better at the game than you, because of course he is. "I hate boys," you say decisively, kissing his forehead again. "Finish the game and get dressed, my love. I'll make you a roll to eat on the way." 
You steal a last fond kiss and he shouts sweet everythings down the stairs at you. "If my hands weren't busy!" he promises. 
You make him a sandwich and another to eat after practice and put them in a tupperware, knowing he'll scarf both in the car. It's fine, you'll just make him a third when he gets home. Time ticks on, training starts in twenty minutes, then ten. You hear the telltale sound of your avatar upstairs dying and snort to yourself. 
"James Potter!" you shout from the bottom of the stairs. "I need help!" 
There's a sudden thump and the tell-tale rush of him opening your bedroom door. "What?" he asks, coming down the stairs in a whirlwind. "What, lovely?" 
You pass him his kit and tupperware. "You're about to be late." 
"What a devious thing to do," he murmurs with a squint, though he gives you an appreciative sideways hug. "What would I do without you?"
"You'd probably have more muscles," you say. 
He kisses the soft skin under your eye as though this is the normal place for a kiss. "I think you're right. I got you enough for that thing, by the way. What was it? An aerospray?" 
He presses another kiss into the first.
You laugh and push him out the door before he gets too informed. 
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familyvideostevie · 6 months
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come care about me
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joel miller x reader a quiet evening at your house in Jackson with the man you call home | implied but unspecified age gap, domesticity, jackson au, joel is a flirt and a gossip [2.2k] a/n: my first attempt at joel! hope it's alright. read part 2 here! part 3 here! series masterlist here.
Jackson is quiet at this hour. The whole world is pretty quiet these days and sometimes it's more suffocating than peaceful. The white noise of life is so different -- you remember how car horns and humming power lines and the thrum of planes overhead used to remind you that you weren't alone. Now, most of the time, you're hoping you're alone. The snap of a twig or click of a safety or a muffled cough are signs of danger. But this town is safe. You know it, you feel it, but sometimes it catches up to you: how tiring it is to be on guard all the time. This is just how it is.
You hear little but your own footsteps as you head for home, hands tucked into your pockets and book wedged under your arm. The warmth of an evening spent at the town book club is still in your veins -- well, that and the finger of whiskey -- and it chases away your melancholy musings for the moment. Even better is the promise of what awaits you.
The porch light is on when you round the corner. You half expect Joel to be strumming away in his chair but there's no sign of him. Not unusual, not really, given that there's a chill in the air and Ellie was meant to come over for a movie night. Maybe she's still here and they're inside watching some shitty action flick on the couch. One or both of them always doze off before it's over. Regardless, you know he won't head to bed until you're home.
You ease open the door. The hallway smells like Ellie's favorite tea and slightly burnt bread but there's no splash of light from the TV, no clash of swords or quiet laughter.
It's dark in the house but that's not unusual either. "Took a few years to stop flicking light switches," Joel once told you. "Reckon it'll take a few more to get used to it again." He's the kind of man who would rather sit in the dark than chance disappointment.
"Joel?" you call. Your jacket goes on the hook next to his and you sit on the bench you dragged in last month for unlacing your boots, which will go next to his spare pair. He's undoubedlty still got his on, wherever he is. The tell-tale trail of belongings that often indicate the presence of a teenager is absent.
Your name echoes down the staircase followed by heavy, slightly uneven footsteps. Joel emerges into the hallway, guitar in hand. His hair is mussed like he's just thrown on the sweater he now wears and his expression softens at the sight of you, an ever-so-slight ease of his jaw and upturn of his mouth. It took you a while to learn how to spot it.
There are nights when you'll make a joke, tease him a little to try to get him to laugh. It's easier than it used to be but he likes to make you work for it. But tonight you're just glad to be home and you want to tell him so. He leans the guitar against the wall and beats you to it.
"Was gonna wait for you on the porch," he says. "Bit early to be back already." He's right. The after-discussion drinks will be going for at least another hour, thought the sun has been down for ages. You just shrug, fingers a little clumsy from the whiskey and the cold as you undo your laces.
"Wanted to come home," you say. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he crosses his arms, shoulder pressing into the wall above the guitar. Joel rarely takes, rarely reaches for what's in front of him even if he wants it, even if it's already his. It's a patience, a self discipline painfully constructed from years of survival and two rounds as a father mixed with the deep guilt he'll never allow himself to be rid of.
Point is, he'll wait for you to touch him. But that's okay. You've worked on your patience, too, and you've been doing this dance for a few years now. His arms will be open once you finish getting your damn shoes off.
"Ellie still here?" you ask. Joel's words are heavy with his drawl, heavier since being around Tommy, if Ellie is to be believed, his sentences clipped of unnecessary words and syllables. It seems that you've adopted some of his speech pattern. He'll never admit it but you think he likes it.
"You just missed her."
"I think she'd like this." You nudge the book on the bench beside you with your thigh. "I'll drop it by tomorrow. Movie night go good?"
Joel dips his chin, eyes on the floor. He shows you so much but there are some things he can't. The scabbing over wound between him and Ellie is often one of those things. "Was nice," he allows. "She n'Dina will be at dinner this weekend, she said."
You finally get your boots off and sigh, tossing them into the corner. The thud is loud enough to make you wince. "About time those girls graced us with their presence." You reach your arms above your head and stretch, joins popping and muscles sore from the sheer exertion of existing after the end of the world. Joel watches you.
"Alright," he says. He pushes off the wall with a groan. "C'mere."
It's the easiest thing in the world to walk into his embrace, socked feet soundless on the hardwood. You love Ellie like she's your own but her absence means that Joel will touch you more. He's a private man, reserved around people he knows and downright stony around those he doesn't even though the years in Jackson have softened him a great deal. He'll squeeze your hand, your shoulder, hover his palm on the small of your back as he moves around you, but that's it. He worries constantly that you'll wise up and realize he's too old, too boring, too mean, that people in town whisper the same behind your backs. Funny how in a time where you fight against fungus-powered flesh eaters, gossip still makes its rounds.
Still, you feel Joel's eyes on you in every room and you'd rather he worry about things like that than life and death beyond the walls. It's like your cells know he's near, a compass needle magnetized to the set of his shoulders and smell of wood glue and gunpowder. The rasp of his voice and his rough hands and the lines on his face. In the privacy of your home he's all yours.
"Hello," you say into his sweater. It's a new find, different from the threadbare button-ups and flannels he wears into the ground. His beard scratches against your skin and you sink into him, arms around his waist. He cradles the back of your head in one warm palm and holds you steady with the other on your back.
"Howdy," he mutters because he knows it'll make you laugh. It does. You match your inhales to his and any remaining tension from the day leaks out of both of you. "Do y'wanna to sit on the porch or go to bed? You hungry?"
His knuckles trace your spine as you shake your head. "Astrid had Seth make sandwiches. So, bed. Too cold to be on the porch."
"S'not that cold," he retorts. You roll your eyes and pull away from his embrace to look at him. His hair could do with a trim, the silver strands falling into his eyes. Your own hair has greys here and there by now, a byproduct of the times. Nearly everyone born Before has some. It's damn stressful to be alive. Joel often grumbles that you're too young for that kind of shit, not far enough from twenty for such visible signs of age.
"I've got gossip for you." That gets his eyebrows to raise.
"Do you now?" He releases you and grabs the guitar, gesturing for you to head upstairs first. "Should'a led with that."
Joel Miller is a lot of things, some of them better than others, but one of your favorites is that he's become a gossip. Maybe he was Before, too. Small-town life and safety and a teenager of his own and you have turned his eye back towards the business of other folks. Information gatherin', he calls it. Important to know what's going on.
But really he's just nosy. Good thing you are, too. It's basically the only reason you go to book club. If you actually wanted to talk about books you'd do it with the teenager living out back -- and you do -- since she's a bigger reader and miles smarter than anyone else in town.
The stairs creak like they always do. Joel has put away the laundry that you finished this morning and despite his inclination towards darkness, has left on the lamp in the bedroom. He sets the guitar back in its stand and sits in the armchair to unlace his boots, grunting a bit as he goes.
"Jesse's mother brought a new batch of whiskey for after the discussion. Caused some loose lips, I think. I hope she did it on purpose because it was worth it."
You eye the book on Joel's side of the bed. Something about...woodworking? Typical.
"Whiskey, huh?" he drawls from behind you. "Could smell it on your breath," he says. You look up and he startles you a bit by appearing in your space and tilting your chin up with two fingers. Joel presses his lips to yours firmly, tongue dipping into your exhale for just a moment before he pulls back. "Can taste it, too."
He's gone before you can lean into him. You sit down heavily on the bed. Whiskey aside, Joel's touch, his kiss, his attention always make you feel a little overwhelmed. And he knows it. You hadn't even heard him creep over to you.
"Asshole," you mutter.
"Say somethin'?" He's wandered to the closet to shuck off his jeans and sweater.
"Remember Scott?" you ask instead. "Short, got that scar across his face."
"I might be old but my memory is fine," he grumbles. "Patrolled with him last month."
"Well, he's been with Duy, that guy who works the gardens, for almost half a year, right? But according to Wendy, as of yesterday, Scott's not living in the house on Spring Street anymore. She saw him moving into a split level on Crescent."
Joel whistles through his teeth. You watch him slide into flannel pants, catch flashes of his tanned skin and your palms ache to touch him.
"You think it has to do with...what was his name? The other guy Scott's with sometimes? Phil? Peter?"
"Patrick. Yeah, that's what I thought too. Something must've been happening there." You tuck one leg under you on the bed. "What was that about a fine memory?"
He ignores you. "Never did like him much," he says. "He talks a lot." He reappears from the closet in his pants that belonged to some other man long dead, his chest bare despite the cool evening. He's a furnace, this man. You barely need layers to sleep in as the seasons change so long as he's next to you, all solid warmth and muscle. He tosses you the shirt you like to sleep in. It smells like what passes for detergent these days.
"You don't like anyone much," you tease as you unfurl your leg. It's not true, not really. Joel likes a few people a great deal and tolerates everyone else just fine. He's respected not only for being Maria's brother-in-law but for the way he can fix things, for his calm head on patrol. Children in town adore him and Ellie's friends used to revere him like a god, or so she tells you. You didn't know him before Jackson but you know enough about what happened twenty years ago, four years ago, and everything in between. You know that it made him hard but hollow. You know that that dear girl in the back shed brought him back to life and now that they're on the mend, you can see even more pieces of who he was.
You know that you've helped, too.
"I like you plenty," he says. He stands between your knees and frames your face with his hands. The callused pad of his thumb drags over your lower lip as you just stare at each other for a few moments. You press your palm to his stomach, nails sliding through the thatch of hair that leads down under the band of his pants. His abdomen contracts and his nostrils flare.
You give him a grin. "I like you plenty, too, Joel Miller." There isn't much more to it. He's probably your favorite person on this god-forsaken planet.
"Get outta these damn clothes," he grumbles around a small smile of his own. He tugs at the shirt in your hand.
You wiggle your eyebrows at him. "Oh, so we can f--"
Joel steps back and heads for the bathroom, leaving you behind with a dramatic sigh. "So we can go to sleep."
Laughter spills out of you as you head for the closet. "Whatever you say."
"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?"
The end of the world isn't so bad.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here
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just-j-really · 5 months
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"I just don't get it," Hob says, for the fifth or sixth or possibly twentieth time that night, glancing over the rim of his cup at Will, who's sitting on the other side of the room, cuddling with his soulmate in an armchair that's really too small for the both of them. "Why everyone's so hung up on soulmates."
It's all anyone's been able to talk about tonight- and sure, that's fair, it is Will and Ann's engagement party, but Hob has overheard the phrases 'oh you're so lucky you found each other so young' and 'why did you wait this long?' far too many times for one night. Will and Ann met as toddlers; they've never had another option and Hob cannot fathom why everyone seems to think that's a good thing.
Case in point, even his little group of Unmatched friends react to his statement with varying degrees of exasperation.
Hob is just sober enough to be aware he should probably shut up, and drunk enough that he keeps talking anyway. "I mean, I've seen 'soulmates'," he says. "My parents were soulmates, both my siblings met theirs, half of my friends are paired off by now. It's not like I don't know how soulmates work. Soulmates are..." he takes a moment, gathers his thoughts, and even though he's not entirely sure what he's about to say, the moment the word leaves his mouth he knows it's exactly right, "Stupid."
His friends laugh uncomfortably. "You're an idiot," Andrew says, not unkindly.
But Hob's on a roll now, an argument that's been simmering in his chest for years spilling out of him, the exhilaration of speaking making the words come easily. "You literally don't have to stay with your soulmate. No one has to! Everyone just goes along with it because everybody else does. But not me. I've made up my mind," he says, setting his cup down and straightening his shoulders. He's been bullshitting a bit but he means this, knows down to his bones that this is something worth staking his life on. "I'm going to meet someone perfect who isn't my soulmate, and I'll marry them instead."
He feels like he should do something solemn to mark this occasion. Stand up on a table, maybe.
Instead, most of his friends laugh at him again. "Hobs, that's the literal definition of your soulmate. Someone who's perfect for you," Gwen points out. The laughter is teasing, and Gwen's tone is more reassuring than anything else, but still, Hob finds himself frustrated.
"But there's so much more out there. So many people to fall in love with," he insists. "Shouldn't I know who's perfect for me better than anyone?"
And his friends tease him for somehow being sappily romantic in his opposition to sappy romance, and he laughs along with them and points out that his perfect person will be more understanding than them, for sure. And he's genuinely a bit hurt, but Gwen bumps his shoulder apologetically and he thinks that destiny has nothing on these friends he's made on purpose, who know him well enough for these unspoken gestures. And there's movement in the corner of his eye.
Hob looks up.
The most gorgeous man alive is standing in front of him. He's tall- probably taller than Hob, even- pale and willowy, with a mess of soft-looking black hair. His eyes are a deep blue Hob didn't think existed in real life until this moment. He looks like the slightly magical prince in a fairy tale got loose in the real world and decided to become a goth. He's perfect.
"Did I hear you say," the man asks, his voice soft and deep all at once, resonant in a way that Hob's never heard before, "you have no intention of meeting your soulmate?"
Not if he's you, Hob thinks, I take it all back if he's you.
Despite what many of his friends will argue, he is capable of not voicing every thought that comes into his head, if only under extreme circumstances, so he offers the stranger his best grin and says, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"You'll need to tell me how that works out, then," the man replies.
"Don't encourage him!" Andrew calls from the other side of their little cluster.
The man- flinches, just a little. Hob probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been staring at him, but Hob's universe just gained a new center, so he is and he does.
"Hey," he says, catching the man's eyes, "Don't mind him, he's just boring. You really want to know how it goes, finding someone who isn't my soulmate?"
"I do," the man says, seriously, like he genuinely thinks Hob's quest is worth his full attention. It leaves Hob feeling warm, almost giddy.
"Perfect," Hob says, and then, because he's never known when to quit, "Let me give you my number, so I can update you?"
The man nods, a teasing little smirk appearing on his face, as though he and Hob already know each other perfectly, and this is a shared, ancient joke between the two of them. His fingers brush Hob's as he passes over his phone.
Nothing happens. There's no spark, no splash of color on Hob's skin marking where this stranger's fingers first dragged over his.
They are, definitively, not soulmates.
And Hob knows for certain that he's right.
[Part Two]
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eggyrocks · 7 days
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𖦹track seventeen: all this love𖦹
m.list
kuroo doesn't know how he got here.
first it was the lunch. it was supposed to be coffee, but by the time they were both showered and functional, lunch fit the timeframe better. he got there first. she was late like she usually is, not that kuroo was expecting anything different. they exchanged tales and recountings of the night before and were so caught up with each other they kept forgetting to look at the menu. kuroo got water. she got another beer. she twisted her mouth into a pout whenever she didn't want to get caught smiling at something he said. he openly threw his head back and laughed.
then it was the ice cream. she was craving it, and kuroo was inclined to oblige her and her whims. she ordered for both of them and then bumped her hip into kuroo to knock him out of the way and keep him from paying. they kept getting uneasy looks from others in the shop. maybe it was kuroo's tall and imposing stature or maybe it was her intimidating aura and the way she looked so in line with her subculture. either way, she didn't notice. or if she did, she didn't let on. just dipped her spoon into kuroo's ice cream and told him he had bad taste, and hers was much better.
then, it was her place. she bragged about her collection of old video games she shares with her roommates and kuroo told her that, since she kept going on about it, he just had to see it now. she couldn't just leave him hanging like that. and he ended up on her couch, his thigh pressed against hers as she destroyed him in some vintage game he'd never even heard of before.
and now, it's this.
all of his focus is on keeping his breathing even and not choking on his spit. he's sitting cross-legged on the floor of her bathroom as she sits on the edge of her bathtub, elbows on her knees, leaning in towards him. far too close for him to think of anything but the warmth of her fingers as she holds his earlobe in place and uses a black sharpie to mark him. seemingly random items are laid out beside her. alcohol wipes, saline water, an apple slice, a cup of ice cubes, silver studs, and an intimidatingly thick sewing needle.
did she bring up piercings or did he? he can't really remember exactly how the conversation went, and he's unsure if he asked for this or if she suggested it. all he knows is that she told him he'd look good with pierced ears, and now he is patiently awaiting the needle.
nishinoya is leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "do not let her do this to you man," he says, half disapproving and half amused. "it's gonna get infected."
"shut the fuck up noya," she mumbles, fire of the words buried by her concentration. she leans back and rips open an alcohol wipe that was resting beside her, only to lean back in and use it to clean the soft skin of kuroo's ear. "you got your nipples pierced on a dare."
"yeah, and it was a mistake," her friend counters. "i'm trying to save him from my same fate. kuroo, look within yourself and ask yourself if you really trust her to pierce your ears."
he does. and he does. "she knows what she's doing," he replies easily, watching as she reaches for an ice cube and presses it back against his ear.
there's a scoff from the doorway, and kuroo doesn't twist around to see but he can hear nishinoya's footsteps as he retreats from the doorway. "this is gonna numb your ear a little bit, but you'll still probably feel it," she says, voice thick with focus. she then replaces the ice cube with the apple slice, and places it on the backside of his ear. "you ready?"
"ready," he confirms, and her hand grabs the sewing needle.
the sharp tip of the needle is pressed against his skin, right where she drew the mark. but kuroo can't feel it. not really. she looks him in the eye and grins broadly, "on three," she says.
kuroo does not believe her.
"one," she starts her countdown, and keeps grinning in a way that's hardly reassuring, "two," she counts, slower now, "three."
he flinches, squeezing his eyes shut and expecting the pain to come. but instead, she leans in closer to him, and leaves a warm, soft kiss on the center of his forehead. kuroo's eyes shoot open in surprise, and that's when she plunges the needle through his skin.
kuroo doesn't feel it at all. he doesn't feel anything but heat where she kissed him. kissed him with the same lips that she bites down on now, working the silver jewelry through the new and bleeding hole that exists in his right ear.
once it's secure. she leans back and examines her handiwork. "it looks good on you, if you ignore the blood," she compliments. "wanna do the other one?"
kuroo would've agreed to anything she said, just then. he nods, and she smiles.
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an: sorry this was a wittle shorter but i rlly like it so
taglist: @nnnyxie @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @localgaytrainwreck @macchiatomegumi @hikikaimar @noodleswastaken @garden-of-bri @rinaheartss @infinitelytimebound @scxrcherr @ahseyy @eyes-ofhell @sleepy-time @polish-cereal @literally-a-ferret @crownj1min @sereniteav @kozuskitten @02shuuu @rasisarchive @marzzn @barricadesenthusiast @yvjitadori @yeehawslap @phoenix-eclipses @wyrcan @rieieieieieiei @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @cherrypieyourface
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moonchild1 · 5 months
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AO3 List PT.2
here's part 2 of my favourite bts fics on ao3 ♡ if you have any of your own recommendations feel free to tell me I would love to hear them ♡ some contain smut so no minors do not interact find pt. 1 here...
s- smut a- angst f- fluff
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all of btssmutgalore’s work (sadly they aren’t on tumblr anymore)
all of univsa work
all of personasintro's work
roommates with benefits by joonswhistle f s a
↬ You and Namjoon are roommates. You're both really horny one morning. So you come to an understanding:
1. It's not a regular thing.
2. It happens on the couch.
3. Kissing is allowed.
4. Condoms, always.And just like that, you're roommates with benefits
seoul underground by hunniejimins s a ft. jungkook
↬ You're a crime & corruption journalist for one of the most esteemed newspapers in Seoul currently investigating drug trafficking in Hong Kong. A hit is taken out on you and as a twisted stroke of luck, a member of a rival gang inadvertently saves you - Jeon Jungkook. He kidnaps you and brings you to the gang's kingpin, Kim Namjoon, who initially had plans to kill you, but a certain bracelet ends up buying you time. Things only get further complicated when they realize who you are and what you can offer them.
OR
Namjoon and Jungkook both fall in love with you and it's a mess, but monogamy is overrated anyway, right?
Covenant by fringesofsanity f s a
↬ You are betrothed to Kim Namjoon, the heir of a real estate mogul. To say that it was a fairytale romance would be erroneous. You’re instead loped in the sad tale of the rich and melancholy.
Faith by AndrastesChosen f s a
↬ It's time to let yourself believe in someone. You're probably an idiot for it, but you're going to put your faith in this man named Namjoon. (AKA You fall in love with underground rapper Namjoon and make a difficult choice so he can follow his dreams)
Partners by btssmutgalore f s a
↬ As a part of a literature assignment, you get paired up with Kim Namjoon, a guy you’ve never even heard of.
the wedding arrangement by sugalights f s a
↬ You are in love with your best friend, the only man who matters, Kim Seokjin. Unfortunately, he's just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgemental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.
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formula for love by bluesxde f s a
↬ newly single and in the midst of a bitter divorce, with a custody battle thrown in, chemistry professor kim seokjin tries not to fall in love with the new library assistant. and fails, horribly
The Stranger by btssmutgalore f s a
↬ When your plane hits turbulence, you start panicking and tell some of your biggest secrets to the attractive stranger sitting next to you.
Before Your Very Eyes by vyduan f s a ft. myg poly au
↬ After decades of being friends, Y/N finally realizes just how attractive Yoongi and Seokjin are and wonders why she never noticed. Except, Seokjin might be getting back with an ex and Yoongi is a permanent fuckboy. Is Y/N just desperate to get laid or does she love them? (And if she loves them, is she too late?) Oh, and also, THEY WERE ROOMMATES (but there are three beds)
Amalthea by Daechwitatamic s a
↬ You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.
Paris For A Day by automnesleaves f a
↬ On his last stop of his European tour to spread Korean culture, Kim Seokjin, the South Korean president's son, plans to escape his duties for a day to enjoy the sights of Paris with your help.
In other words: a slight adaptation of Roman Holiday, one of my favorite romantic films.
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arranged by obiwrites f s a
↬ If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her. But what happens when Hoseok starts to realize he doesn’t want you to be her? That there might be more than meets the eye with you?
piece by piece by underthejoon f s a ft seokjin
↬ a collection of drabbles where your love life is muddied up by two men – the one you love and the one that loves you.
tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love) by minlouvre f s
↬ Even though he is everything you find attractive in a man, your friend and co-worker Jung Hoseok is just exactly that - a friend and co-worker. For some reason, you have never found yourself attracted to him even though all the girls and guys around you go absolutely crazy for him. But that all changes for you one night while scrolling through Heart2Heart, a sex live cam website...
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the december of our adulthood by vyduan a
↬ Jimin collapsed all over you and the middle console from his seat in a fit of giggles and did his best to tease a smile back onto your face. “Thanks for picking me up so early on a Saturday morning, Y/N. You’re the best friend a guy could ever have.” Even after all these years, you couldn’t control the dip of disappointment at his words. It wasn’t that you didn’t love being Jimin’s best friend. It was more that you knew you would never be anything more. You grunted in acknowledgment and pushed the sadness down, burying it under years of practice and half truths. You would be content with what you had. You would be satisfied with the love Jimin was willing and able to give. You were not entitled to anything more. It was enough. It was enough. It was never enough.
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230 notes · View notes
cutedice · 1 year
Note
Luffy, Usopp + Buggy w/ an so (gn) who is SO INCREDIBLY SILLY
Like the so is basically a jester. a little fella. just mindless entertaining fun 24/7 with this guy.
((Anon. You are my new favorite anon ever.))
When the S/O is Silly!
Characters: Luffy, Usopp, Buggy Warnings: None, fluff.
Everything is GN!
LUFFY
- He's all for the goofy behavior.
- Seriously, if you can make him smile he's 100% already vibing with you and you make him smile constantly.
- He's always ready to play with you or just listen to you tell jokes.
- People already compare him to the sun, and he never really understood that until he met you.
- He also 100% has a prank war going with you. It's endearing at first but now it's an actual war and the other Strawhats have been picking sides.
- So far you're winning, much to his annoyance. But, he can't pout for too long when he hears your laugh and looks over to be met with such a warm expression on your face.
- If you want an easy way to get to him when he is in a mood, physical comedy gets him a lot. He's a sucker for slapstick. Slip on a banana peel for the man.
- He'll always make sure you aren't hurt afterwards, so no worries! He just... has to stop laughing first.
- You can pout at him all you want after, but it won't do much.
- "C'mon, (Y/N)! You just- and- and the noise you made--" and he's hunched right back over losing his mind.
- Come on, how could you stay mad at him? Well, you can't! Because he finds it so funny, he tries to replicate it so you can see what he saw.
- Ends with you both lying on the deck, cheeks red and heads fuzzy from the lack of air, but genuinely enjoying each others company so much.
- Luffy wouldn't trade the feeling for the world.
USOPP
- Let's be real, he appreciates comedy. And, while he loves childish jokes and acts he also enjoys most other forms (except Robin's).
- But he loves yours!
- He makes a lot of self deprecating jokes at himself, it's his fall back and, while he doesn't do it enough to be concerning, he also doesn't hold back.
- But, none of those jokes last long when you're around!
- Cheesy pickup lines always get him to laugh. Sometimes you might get a blush or a bashful turn-away, but he's always laughing and fighting back chuckles.
- He loves hearing you add onto his tall tales. Commit to this man's bits!! He will love you!
- Get's even more entertaining if you act it out with impressions, play it up with him! Be nerds! Drama kids!
- You can't play any acting game together because you just wind up laughing too much to participate.
- One of his secret favorite things you do to make him laugh is when you sit in his little corner with him and purposely put something together wrong.
- "Y/N, pfft, I- I asked you to make a cube! How- how'd you make a triangle? Where- where's the other piece?"
- This situation is a win all around because it makes him laugh, he gets an ego boost in helping you, and if you really don't know how to build stuff or don't want to then he'll never know!
BUGGY
- As a clown himself, Buggy has been known to appreciate the finer forms of comedy.
- So, needless to say if you throw a pie at someone you're already a star in his book.
- Okay, he might be a little more mature than that and the pie might have to be well timed, but a well time pie throw is still a win! Really, if your timing is pretty good you'll land most jokes with him.
- Not to say everything needs to be timed. Sometimes silly things just happen with him.
- He's a walking shenanigans magnet and if you can double down on that and make it a positive thing for him he'll adore you.
- Plus, you so graciously taking the butt of the captain's jokes and pranks has the rest of his crew and Alvida praising you (mostly due to their mild annoyances to them).
- Buggy does pull pranks by the way. Constantly. But, he always, without fail, get's flustered when you catch him trying to set one up or mid-lie.
- Full body, red faced, you swear you can hear steam coming out of his ears. But, he always ends up laughing with you afterwards. It's funny once he looks back on the scene after a few minutes of denial and he can admit that much at least.
- And, you never laugh at him. Well, not in a bad way. He gets defensive, he's got a sensitive ego and he's greedy; but you only see him as... well, your fun partner in crime!
- That's right. If you've got the confidence to go head-to-head with him then you're officially his partner in crime! You don't really get a choice in this, he'll drag you along with his plans.
- Of course, he takes all the credit for any joke he might pull on the crews. He doesn't want you to get in trouble. Plus, he gets mild entertainment watching them treat you like your innocent.
- It's like having a spy on the inside as you come back to him with everyone's plans and schedules, and you two have a late night planning session.
- "So, if Alvida and Mohji are on the island that leaves--" he turns to face you for some help only to see you mid air plane throw at his head.
- You maintain eye contact for a moment before he grins and suddenly a hand is on your side, tickling you into surrender. "Hah! Try and best me again I dare you!"
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bowieandqueen11 · 7 months
Text
Luis Sera Having A Crush On You Would Include...
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Request: I don't have anything specific to request but I totally 100% would die for some spicy Luis headcanons!!!
Ngl I would climb this man like a tree so I kind of expanded this into some cute and spicy ones as well, I hope you enjoy as much as I enjoyed writing these! ;)
This takes quite a long time to write, so if you enjoy, please leave a comment/ reblog, it really helps me!!
Warning: some spicy headcanons, some sexual allusions, mentions of guns, mentions of injury and blood, mentions of smoking, some light swearing!
(I do not own Resident Evil or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @stdismas.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
When you radioed Hunnigan to let her know you may drop off the map because you had been tied up, you had no idea that the words would become so literal.
Groggily waking up to a firm back pressed against your own and rapid unintelligible Spanish babbling in your ear wasn't what you first expected when you and Leon had touched down in Valdelobos for the mission, but after the morning you've had you're little surprised. As you feel around your wrists to try and find out if you've been bound or chained to the ceiling of this quaint little sub-room, you're pleasantly surprised that said annoyed person behind you hasn't thrown an axe at you yet. It was only when you pulled at steel chain and the man suddenly stopped talking with a 'woAH' to come flying into your face that events started to become a little more unusual.
'Good morning sleeping beauty, ha!' You finally have full view of the man whose swinging before you, the toes of his dusty boots barely touching the ground and the firm chest held behind his tight leather jacket swaying uneasily against your own. Whiskey coloured curls hide inquisitive eyes, and as soon as he realises you're conscious he abandons whatever futile attempts he was trying in tugging off his cuffs to instead grin fully at you. 'Can I give you a kiss now, and you'll turn me into a prince?' He wiggles his eyebrows at you, wetting his bottom lip with the edge of his tongue as his body bounces against you again.
You yank at the chain, doing your best to keep your face professional as the wheels bounce over the beam and the man comes knocking into your face, held up only by your upper arm strength and a leg you wrap courteously around his quads to keep him balanced. 'You're mixing up your fairy tales. You telling me you're a frog?' You let him drop to the ground with an unceremonious thud as you break free, and Luis has to pretend, with his ass handed to him on the cobbled floor, that as you walk past him he didn't enjoy every single second of that.
When you finally find Leon desperately sifting through your stolen belongings in the next room over, the relief immediately floods his eyes as he pulls you into a tight hug. When he sees Luis following you like a puppy from over your shoulder, though, you can hear him sigh against your shoulder. Said shoulder which soon had Luis' hand firmly pressed against it.
'He won't stop touching my shoulder', you groan to Leon.
'I know. He does that', he replies with a tighter squeeze.
Luis was incredibly good at making your next meeting seem like just happenstance.
It wasn't as if he had scoped you out for miles down the rocky tracks, his heart hammering in times to the bells that rang out from his old church. It wasn't as if he had 'borrowed' a pair of binoculars from his new found friend Ada, and had watched you bring down Del Lago with an embarrassingly loud cheer and punch of the air. It wasn't as if he had been sitting leisurely behind this boat house playing with his lighter for half an hour, brain torn between getting back to his lab, and his heart's plea to see you again.
You're less than astonished when the man jumps out at you with his arms out at his sight, immediately cocky when he spots your magnum raised up towards his face. 'Now now, my princess. If you shoot me now, then how will we ever transform this magical kingdom, ey?' You're even less surprised when he wraps an arm around your shoulder, murmuring into your ear about how he's going to be like some knight in shining armour as you holster your gun and let him lead you further off into the wilderness of the village.
He's constantly asking you questions, though, when the two of you brave a stop to take stock of your ammo reserves and to charter the maps Hunnigan sent over to you. Luis just perches next to you on a free boulder, gently rubbing his pointer finger and thumb over his jawline, and watching you with something akin to enthrallment rising through his weary face. Although he tries to make them sound flirty, you can see the seriousness in his usual light-hearted expressions, beginning to become aware of his subtleties: in the way his eyes crinkle for a moment when the words leave his lip, or the give away of his leather shifting as his fingers clench where they're crossed underneath his armpits.
You shake it off as you answer him honestly, not realising that this is the first time since he was a child that anyone had ever talked to him as him. Not as a runaway. Not as a profit. Not as a monster. Not as a threat. Not as a joke. Just as... Luis. Something tight clenched in his heart, and as he nodded along to your answer, he found himself beginning to flush at how nice it felt.
It becomes a running joke between the two of you that whenever a villager tries to hit you with a lit torch, he asks if you 'have a light?'
Speaking of, when the two of you end up by one of the rundown boathouses littering the lake side, he leans his leg back against one of the boards to light a smoke. With a confused tilt of his head, his eyes suddenly widen when you stop his hand from playing with his lighter, stealing the cigarette out of his mouth. Instead, you cup your hands around the knuckles of his larger ones and lower your head down to light the end of the cigarette.
He fidgets, a knowing look on his face as he tries to hide how turned on he's become, how incredibly tight his jeans suddenly seem to feel when you let go and take a drag. Before he can reach for your lips to steal it back, though, you throw the cigarette into the lake with a wink, leaving him feeling only all the more turned on.
But Luis is also incredibly protective of you!! When you're being surrounded by hordes of angry plagas villagers in a derelict cabin, the man is constantly jumping in your way with all guns ablazing. It starts to frustrate you how, without any formal training or without any bloody protective gear he keeps shielding you from pitchforks with only his pecs to protect him. He just laughs, pulling you behind him and throwing off your aim as he holds a shard of broken bookcase out in front of him like a lance. Whenever you climb the stairs to kick down some of the ladders on the second floor, Luis is hot on your heels like your own personal talkative shadow. Thankfully though, while you were busy trying to lift the bed and shove it back against the shards of a newly broken window, Luis was there to notice a villager's head splat open and tentacles sprout out of it right behind your back. With a cry, he pounces himself at them, narrowly avoiding you getting a lash to the face as he uses his weight to knock them off the balcony.
You repay him by sliding your leg forward and managing, just in time, to stop his arms waving and his staggering legs from falling over the edge as well by grabbing the collar of his jacket and hauling him back onto you.
'See senorita?', he asks between pants, the two of you collapsed down onto the floor with Luis lying between your legs. He lets his head leisurely loll down onto the joint at the top of your thigh, letting his open palm fall over your knee. 'Nothing to it!' You roll your eyes, but even he notices the relief flood through your uneasy body when he uses his free hand to reach up and touch your face. At first you jump, not expecting the warm buzzing feeling of his fingertips holding your chin, but you slowly relax as he tilts your head back and forth. There's an intensity in his eyes that you haven't seem from him before, as he swipes a bead of blood away from the cut on your lower lip without a second thought. A kind of fury, but also... a hint of guilt racking through his head as he makes sure you're alright.
You can bet your ass though that as soon as you heft him back up onto his feet, he refuses to go out the door. Instead, he hops up on top an antique wine barrel, and pouts his lips at you. He whines like a kicked puppy until you agree to fix up his wounds now, and to kiss them all better.
'Absolutely not', you say through a smile, coming to stand in between his legs. He goes uncharacteristically still when you reach up to cradle his face, an almost imperceptible huff of air hitching through his nostrils when you tilt his cheek further into your palm. He rests his head heavily, the corner of his lips twitching up as he rubs his stubble against your skin and tickles you. 'Cut it out or I'll be sewing your eyelid to your ass', you warn him, pointing a needle you managed to worm out of your side pack at his nose. He just smiles, watching you work as if you were made of pure starlight itself. As you finish off by crushing up some green herb, you can feel his thick thighs begin to move tighter against your legs, effectively trapping you against his hip.
'I-I'm going to need you to open your mouth', you state, trying your damn best to not give Luis the satisfaction of hearing your voice go hoarse.
'If that's what you've wanted me to do, mi amorcito, all you had to do was ask.' Although he cocks his head at you, he can't help but drop his eyes, desire burning through every electric inch of his body as he drops his bottom lip open. It feels like an eternity as you gingerly press the stalks of herb down onto the point of his tongue, not helped by the way Luis' irises are trained solely onto your own for every second. You don't mean to, but your pointer finger brushes against the plumpness of his lip as you pull away, and you turn your head away with a furious blush when Luis swipes at the spot, leaving a wet trail against it.
You turn to pack up and leave, but he suddenly stands up and grabs onto your arm tightly. He leans sideways until he's almost over you, his brow furrowed as he searches your eyes for an answer he's terrified to find. 'Hey, I won't leave you here, you know? I promise, I'm not going to leave again.'
'Why are you doing this?', you ask tensely. 'Why are you following me?'
He swallows thickly, weighing up whether to confess his truth to you or not. After a moment, he sighs, too afraid at what you might do. 'You are a guest! It would be rude not to take you on a tour of all the hotspots in the village.' Although you roll your eyes, you can't help the way you start to smile at his cheesiness. He begins chuckling too, but you don't notice the way the tips of his ears burn with a crimson flush as he spins his pistol and places it back into his holster, looking up at the ceiling uncertainly.
When it starts raining, he immediately offers you his jacket, quick to unzip it and place it over your head. That is, until you elbow him in the ribs once he asks for 'some of your clothing in return, of course ;)'.
Since you've grown to warily trust the man, you believe him when he leads you into a dank smelling cavern underneath some of the huts, telling you that he miraculously knows of a way to move underneath the monsters undetected. Which is how you found yourself climbing up a well in a densely shrouded area by an incredibly sticking looking altar, running away from a man wielding a chainsaw, and sitting on a very content looking Luis shoulders as you clambered into the musty attic of what used to be the village chief's manor. Flicking your torch through the gloom, you were surprised to step on a cracked frame. Picking it up, you were even more surprised when you ran your thumb over the grime to clear the image of a young boy sitting next to his grandfather. A young boy, who even at that age had such strikingly distinctive... familiar characteristics. A young boy who, as you placed the photo down on a cabinet and began to flick through the pages of a withered journal lying next to it, had been through such grief and horror that you were amazed he was so nonchalantly peering through the rafters next to it.
No, no. That wasn't it. He was good, you had to give him that. He must have spent a long time projecting this image. Perfecting this façade. Wrapping himself up so tightly in his fairy tales of knights and princesses and magical lands, that he almost believed it himself. Almost. But it seemed almost innate with you: the ability to notice his giveaways. To notice the real him. The way his shoulders were slightly hunched, as if guarding himself from bad memories: the way his eyes flitted just ever so minutely around the room, as if a cold grip of fear was squeezing at his lungs: the way, that in all the time you had been standing there watching him, he had noticed the photograph and now refused to look your way.
'You-', you start, not entirely sure what to say. 'This is you? You're from this village? You, you-'
He looks so desolate, so horrifyingly sad as he deflates onto the edge of a desk that you can't even finish the sentence, let alone get to the accusations of his work with Umbrella. Instead, your eyes sweep over the last page of the diary, feeling your heart breaking at the loneliness and confusion this poor man must have felt for so long.
'You were trying to help', you finally murmur out through clenched teeth. 'You are trying to help', you soften, turning your body to face him with furrowed eyebrows. 'That's why you're following me.'
'I might have been', he shrugs, but even that motion seems to take all the energy out of him. He feels different now, more clear, more truthful as he folds his hands out in front of his lap. 'Maybe, at the start. But it's not just that. I'm a selfish man, senorita. Look!'
He throws an arm out towards the window with a faux smile, pointing an accusatory finger at the lingering hoards of torch wielding villagers that are stumbling through the fallen cast iron gates. 'See how well I did at saving them! No, no.' He rubs the bridge of his nose, before glancing crestfallen at the picture frame behind your arm. 'I'm no hero. I'm selfish. I decided a long while ago, mi amor, that I enjoyed your company far too much. If I can't save my village, I'm going to be selfish enough to save you.'
His eyes drop, and his nose sniffs, and you do the only thing your mind can piece together at that moment. You walk forward, and with a tentative face you wrap your arms around his torso and hug him. It takes him a moment to realise that you're not rightfully furious with him, before he lets his head droop down into the curve of your shoulder. You don't say a word when you feel his arms shake, sliding around your ribcage until his hands are clenched fists in the back of your shirt. He's so tall he's almost smothering you, but you don't care a jot. Instead, you just stay a moment in your perfect isolation, allowing the man in front of you the comfort and vulnerability to break.
You thought that was as bad as you would ever see him, but this man gets SERIOUSLY worried when he realises that you've been infected with las plagas too?? He curses himself with an incredibly frantic and incredibly rude string of Spanish curse words, realising it must have been around the same time Leon was infected, and you've been struggling with the pain of it alone this whole time. He goes into Serious Scientist Mode and does his best not to freak out when, in a flash, you've gone from idle chatting to flashing a boot knife at his throat. His adams apple bobs against the serrated edge of the blade as he slowly reaches his hand out to reassuringly squeeze your shoulder once again.
'It's alright, you do what you have to do. I told you, I'm not leaving you again, si?'
Your face crumbles in agonising pain as the black tendrils begin to flood away from your eyes to be replaced by blinking tears, mustering the strength to fling the knife until it sticks firmly into frame of a painting. You fall to the floor, writhing in pain, and it takes all of Luis' strength not to cry out as he falls down beside you like there are firecrackers nipping at his heels. He legit carries you bridle style out the door and onto one of those velvet cushioned chairs in the castle's corridor. He stoops down next to you, and you finally come around to his warm thumb rubbing just under your bottom lash line as he checks the white of your eyes for any lingering signs of infection.
His fingers are incredibly gentle as he unfurls your other intertwined hand to check the pulse on your wrist. The wrinkles on his forehead are so shoved together that he almost looks like he's folded in on himself, and you can barely make out the slight shake of his fingertips as he steadily counts with bated breath. He lets out a whistle of relief through his front teeth once he's reassured, falling backwards onto the gilded frame of the staircase's banister and stretching his legs out in front of him in blissful solace.
He nearly jumps out of his skin when you whisper a pained 'hey handsome', gripping your side and stretching out your neck as you sit up fully. He doesn't even speak, his eyes wide and terrified as he flies forward and pulls you into a desperate hug, so tight against his chest you feel like you might pop if his biceps pulse any more. He seems almost sheepish when he pulls back, until you pull him down by the lapel of his jacket to kiss his cheek and whisper a 'thanks for not leaving me' into the shell of his ear. Like a lightning strike, like life breathed back into his lungs, he's grinning like his old self. The lovestruck dope. You really have wrapped around your pinkie finger.
Him screaming WHEEE and climbing onto your head the whole time you're in the cart mine lmao.
When you guys reach the garden maze, he just can't keep his feelings in any longer. He doesn't quite know if it was you nearly being mauled by the dogs that reminded him of his grandfather, and all he's lost, or if it's just the thought of him not getting you to his lab in time that makes all the frustration and love and pure adrenaline fear slam against his ribs. Before you can even wipe the blood off your forehead, peering around the next corner to see if you can catch sight of an end to these stupid ass hedges, Luis struts forward and cages you in his arms. He's kissing you so fervently, effectively pinning you between his groin, lower legs, and the bristles of the bush behind you that you nearly fall through with the intensity of it.
This man is definitely the type to nearly knock you on your ass though tbf because he's thrusting up against you, so desperate for you.
Smug bastard is smirking the whole time, until he feels your nails scratch lightly against the stubble by the pulse point on his neck. He winces, closing his eyes and turning his head towards the empty air at your side that you think you've hurt him, until the bastard starts groaning.
Without even realising it, Luis has shoved you down onto the grass, breaking your fall by landing you on top of his arm. He crawls between you like a ravenous tiger until he's hovering over your face. He bites at the side of your neck, leaving a few wet marks as his tongue eagerly glides across your skin as your hand desperately reaches up onto the stone side of the fountain. Your chest rises and falls in quick succession as the man leaning his weight eagerly on your stomach ravishes you, only for your grasping hand to be met with his own heavily landing on top of it, interlinking quickly with your fingers. He growls as he pulls at the bottom of your thighs, raising your lower body further up towards him whilst also pulling your raised legs around the bottom of his back.
His other hand is aflame as it holds tight against the side of your pelvis, effectively holding you in place as he grinds against you, teeth nipping at your top lip as he kisses you like the world might end around him at any moment. His breath pants against your tongue, hand wandering like smooth butter down the sides of your hip, making sure you experience every inch of pleasure that's been pent up over the last few days. Making sure, with each swirl of his tongue against your own, that you finally realise how much he adores every inch of you. Ensuring, as he pulls you down by the hips to rest against the belt buckle of his jeans, that you're safe in the knowledge that he's never felt this in love: this safe, this devoted, so like himself again with anyone else.
Thankfully you're there to look out for each through thick and thin, and even more thankfully you're there to stop him being attacked and grievously wounded by Krauser. He swears, as the two of you finally come running hand in hand into his lab, and he holds onto your fingers with a grip tight and sweaty enough to bend metal, that he's going to make the most of this chance at redemption he's been given. He's going to be your knight in shining armour, for as long as he may live.
259 notes · View notes
Text
Cause of Action 4
Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.
Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.
Part of The Club AU
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The alcohol clings to your tongue. The flavour is bitter and acidic. You don't like it. You put the shot glass down, hovering awkwardly as Andy brushes his fingertips along his beard and sighs. He turns to face the other man.
"So, you don't have a contract, what do you have? Correspondence? Anything," Andy says.
"Here's the thing, the correspondence isn't exactly PG. I don't know if it would be admissible."
"Hansen," Andy warns as the other man pours himself another drink.
"What? Calm down. I'll get you something. I just... need to find it."
"What does that mean?" Andy grits.
Lloyd nears you, standing close as he leans over to fill your disposed shot glass, "don't waste it, sunshine, I paid a pretty price for the best."
"Stop. She's not here to drink--"
"Maybe you should start, pal," Lloyd pulls away, downing his own shot then drinking straight from the neck of the bottle, "what are you complaining about? I'm gonna cut you a check and you're gonna get this bimbo off my ass. I didn't do anything she didn't ask me to do."
"Maybe you should save your money and just pay out the lawsuit," Andy huffs, "it'd be easier--"
"We both know you're not going to just roll over," Lloyd insists and looks at you, gesturing with the bottle, "I said don't waste my generosity. It doesn't come easy."
Andy doesn't seem to hear the warning. He's rubbing his forehead as he sneers at the ceiling. You give a guilty look and take the shot glass, apologising before you throw back the mouthful with a choke. You seal your lips to keep from spitting it back out.
Lloyd goes over to the couch and sits, knees wide, taking another gulp from the bottle.
"Sit down, let me go over the shit," he demands as he rests the bottle on his leg.
Andy relents, walking around the couch stiffly and sitting in an leather armchair, just on the edge. He watches Lloyd expectantly. The client stifles a belch behind his fist and and snaps his fingers, pointing to the end of the sofa.
"The secretary too," he says.
"Intern," Andy corrects.
You lower yourself carefully and cross your hands over your knee, antsy and a bit disoriented as the alcohol seeps into your bloodstream. You didn't expect to be tipsy this fast.
"Alright, so get this," Lloyd begins, "I'm on TikTok, scrolling, and I see this bimbo..."
Andy flutters his lashes as his cheek ticks. He restrains himself as he listens and you try not to cringe at the lewd retelling of a tangled web of money and unsavoury acts. You lean on the armrest and yawn as Lloyd goes on, growing more theatrical as he unravels the tale of his current predicament.
📖
Another drink is forced on you before Andy firmly takes the bottle away. His exasperation boils over and he yanks away the gin. He sets it down heavily with a clunk as he looms over the other man. Lloyd giggles at the attorney's anger.
"Well, there's my side of the story," he hiccups and shifts to slip his phone out of his pocket and look at the time, "now if you don't mind, I got friends comin'... a few ladies too..." he winks in your direction, "you can stick around if you like, sunshine."
"That's enough," Andy marches towards the door, "we got what we need. Try not to rack up another lawsuit tonight."
"I'll do my darnedest," Lloyd slurs as you stand up, "damn, if that ain't daddy energy, right there."
You look down at the drunken man and fixes his collar. You shake your head and follow Andy. Well, that was the strangest experience of your life. You'll be content to never face anything like that again.
Andy holds the door for you but as you step into the hall, you feel the stir of alcohol and wobble just a little. You're surprise as Andy catches up to you and puts his hand on the small of your back. You press your hand to the wall and murmur and apology.
"You okay?" He asks, closer than you expect, his breath tickling through your hair.
"Yeah, yeah, it's just... I don't really drink."
"Sorry about that, he's pushy like that, I just... didn't wanna argue. Get what I need and... I feel awful now."
"Really, I'm fine," you wave him off and stand straight, "I'm just tired."
You go to the top of the stairs and grab the railing, taking the steps one at a time as you try no to look down. The flashing lights and the music add to your spiraling reality and as you reach the bottom, your empty stomach adds to the skewing of the dark room. You sense Andy behind you and your crushed against him as bodies crowd you.
He grabs your arm, keeping you from falling, and directs you past the web of dancing clubbers. He hurries you along, deflecting writhing bodies with a strong arm and gets you to the doors. You stumble out with him still grasping onto you.
"Jeez," you say out of breath, "it's crazy in there."
"Right," he huffs and squeezes before he lets you go, "lots going on," he combs his fingers through his hair, "you okay?"
"Yeah, fine, just..."
"Hey, let me drive you home," he interjects, "you look like you need to lay down."
"You're probably right," you shrug, glancing back through the club doors.
He gestures you past the queue of people waiting on the sidewalk and you cross to the other side of the street. You get to his car, a bit woozy as you lean against it. Three shots and you're ready to collapse. You're kind of embarrassed.
He unlocks the door and you drop into the car heavily. You close your eyes and try to clear away the gathering cobwebs. This isn't a good look.
"You sure you're doing okay?" Andy asks as he reaches over to pull your door shut.
You snaps your eyes open and eke out, "yeah, sorry."
You buckle your seat belt and try set your head straight. This can't be happening. You're a lightweight but you can't be this bad. You muffle a yawn in your palm.
You lean your elbow on the slim armrest and cradle your head. You just need to get yourself together. You only need to make it home before you... pass out.
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vibratingskull · 2 months
Note
Hello hello! I have another request if you don’t mind.
Could you do a single dad Thrawn & female!child!reader? headcannons or a story I don’t mind! If you want to do a story an idea could be that maybe reader had a pet snake and the snake passed away and Thrawn if telling them about the life cycle and helping get over her loss?
Or another good idea is that she hurt herself (idk maybe she fell down or something) and he’s conforming her? I’m in a need for some Thrawn comfort rn 😓
Please have a good day!
Aaaaaaaaaw ❤️ Dad Thrawn is best Thrawn. Here you go, soft dad Thrawn comforting you his daughter
I hope you'll feel better soon ❤️
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Thrawn & Daughter!reader
Thrawn opens his eyes immediately hearing your sniffs, well awake in a second, he knows something is wrong.
“Visahot? Is something wrong?” He raises on his elbow, his red eyes shining in the dark of the room.
Your red eyes shine less, a testimony of your headspace right now. You sob and rub your eyes full of tears, gasping to breath.
“Its… It’s… Its Cheple… He doesn't move anymore…” You manage to say between gasp.
“I am coming.” 
Thrawn stands on his feet, taking your little hand and walking to your room on the Chimaera. He never gets mad at you for being awake at night, he works on the assumption that you have a good reason even if you’re just reading past your bedtime. He will chastise you gently and sit on the bed to read you a final story then tuck you to bed.
But tonight you don’t seem to want a fairy tale.
He approaches the nest of plaids and clothes in the middle of your room, where Cheple, your pet serpent likes to curl up and sleep.
“I… Hic… I wanted to hug him but he didn’t move at all…” You explain.
He kneels next to the nest, observing silently the corpse of your snake. He delicately takes the head in his palms but Cheple is soft and dangles without reaction.
Poor little creature.
“What’s wrong with him?” You look at your dad with eyes full of hopes.
Dad knows so much, dad can do so much, surely he can help! But he turns to you and shakes his head, holding your hand.
“Visahot, there is nothing else to do.”
“Why? Why doesn’t he move.”
“He is dead, my darling.”
You look at him shocked and mouth agape.
“He…? No! No, you’re lying!” You burst into tears.
Thrawn pulls you into a hug, holding you tight against his beating heart. You cry like you nver cried. Cheple was your oldest friend with your dad, you know no other kids on this planet but found Cheple as an egg years ago. Your little heart immediately melted for the abandoned egg, all alone in the nest and you took it back to the Chimaera, proudly showing him off to your dad. He helped you built a nest under a heating lamp and one day, the eggshell cracked and you witnessed Cheple first shy steps into the world.
You were inseparable, attached by the hips you run all over the Chimaera with Cheple circling your shoulders.
But tonight…
“I am so sorry, my darling.” Thrawn tries to soothe you, caressing your head and back.
“So that means I will never see him again?!” You cry.
“No my darling, you will not.” He admits gently.
“But I don’t wanna! I want him! Why can’t you do something?!”
“Visahot.” He parts from you, holding your shoulders in his large hands, “There are some things we cannot change, whatever we try or no matter our effort. I would do something if I could ease your pain, but life and death are beyond anyone’s power.”
“But…But…” You sob uncontrollably.
“He left because it was his time. We both knew he was getting old, we saw the signs. What matters is the love you gave him all his life.” He tilts your head delicately. “He is in a better place now.”
“My bedroom wasn’t good enough for him?” You let your tears flow.
“It was more than enough. He always liked to curl up and hide in this room specifically because he felt safe here. You built him a great nest that he appropriated for himself and tonight he chose to die where he felt the safest, in your bedroom, next to you.”
“Why…?”
“Because you signified safety and warmth for him. He was so small he could have been devoured by anything, but you were always here to protect him from anything and he untrusted you for his final moments.”
“But I don’t want him to go away…”
“We cannot control that, my darling. Sometimes death comes at your door to rob you of your loved ones, tonight she came for Cheple while he was peacefully asleep. He left while dreaming, without any pain or worry because he was at ease with you, he felt loved and protected with you.”
You sniff, wiping your tears off your cheek.
“You remember when he felt ill for the first time?” Thrawn  continues, “You dedicated all of your time to take care of him and for the first time he came to sleep with you in your bed. He saw you as his savior and benefactor.” He brushes your cheek with his thumb, “You gave him a life filled with adventure and love, and you can be sure the memories he brought with him are filled with your smiles.”
“But why tonight? Coudldn’t he have waited again a little?”
“No, my darling. He was an old snake you know, and that is the best thing that could have happened to him : getting old at your side.”
“So he didn’t leave because he didn’t love me anymore?”
“No, quite the contrary. He came to the person he was the closest to live his final moment because you comfort him and give him so much love.”
“It hurts, dad…” you lower your head.
“I know, Visahot, I know.” He presses your foreheads together, “But it is part of life, the best we can do is enjoy the ones we love to the fullest while they are here. Do you understand?” He asks softly.
“... Yes.”
“That’s my girl.” He kisses your forehead with so much love, “Are you alright?”
“No, my heart hurt really bad.” You complain.”And my stomach feels empty.”
“It is perfectly normal. It is because you loved him so much, it will hurt for some time but one day you will be able to think back fondly about him and only feel your love for him filling your heart.” 
“For how long?”
“For one month or maybe one year. It depends on the heart.”
“I am sad, dad.”
“Of course you are, my darling. And I am sad for you. Do you want to sleep with me tonight? We will bury him properly tomorrow morning.”
You tiredly nod and snuggle against your dad, burying your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent. He lifts you up and carries you back to his bedroom where he lays you down gently, sliding next to you and holds you close.
You keep crying for a moment until you fall asleep, exhausted. Thrawn didn’t stop cradling you against his heart, holding you as close as possible.
His dear little girl… He will arm you to fight life, to win everytime, but tonight, only time can help such a wound. So he keeps you close, giving you his full support and love, ready to face the harsh reality together tomorrow. But tonight, you’ll sleep soundly in his arms.
In security.
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@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037
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lastofthelovesongs · 11 months
Text
I cannot contain the rage I feel
So my dad's girlfriend, who has hardly even touched any of our horses, gave permission to her friend's daughter/niece/something to ride our horses. My dad just keeps saying to be nice, and let it happen, but I have a feeling that he doesn't care much for the "arrangement" and just agreed to keep girlfriend happy. He won't listen when I or my sisters try to express our dislike for it.
I have no idea who any of these girls are. Was only one given permission and she just keeps bringing friends along? Whatever it is, they just show up when they want to ride our horses around. I have never met any of these girls. None of them have ever tried to speak to me about any of the horses. I don't know the riding skills of any of these girls.
Each horse has certain tack that is for them. A bridle, bit, and halter that fits them and their needs. They are using the wrong tack for the horses that they use, because they have never bothered to ask who needs what. I don't think they even know what the horses' names are. They don't know how old each one is. They don't know which ones are road safe (not that they should be riding off our property anyway), and many other things that you should know about a horse before riding.
If one of them gets hurt, or even worse, if one of the horses gets hurt, what then? I am on the verge of telling them that they aren't welcome myself. I already have a strike against them because once I got to the farm and the horse supplies were left laying everywhere. Each piece has a place to be. Brushes were laying around, halters, ropes, and bridles were in the wrong places - one bridle left hanging across a saddle instead of on a hook - and straps on the saddles were left hanging on the ground.
If that happens one more time, I'm telling them myself that they are no longer welcome. I don't care what dad or his girlfriend say.
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darklordofthesimp · 2 years
Text
Proximity (Din Djarin x Reader)
A self-defense lesson with a Mandalorian was not your idea of fun, especially when he had a habit of toying with you.
Requested By Anon: #70 You're really close right now
A/N: There's always sexual tension during training, isn't there? I really am sorry this is not the best quality. I struggled with inspo and motivation for this one, it was painful to write lol.
Category: Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension
Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Suggestive Themes
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"I'm not good at this."
"That's why we're doing it."
"Because I'm not good?"
"So you can get good."
Your heart was racing and you hadn't even begun the session. The tell-tale signs of anxiety were everywhere: the dryness of your mouth, the uneven breathing, and your trembling fingers. It was a strange thing, how the body could anticipate something like that. You hated it.
"Come on," the Mandalorian's voice was low- as if he thought that if he spoke too loud, you'd run off. He was half-right, you were definitely considering it. Who wouldn't?
No one wanted to fight the likes of Din.
Especially not you.
"This isn't my job," you hissed, taking a backward pace towards the ship. "This is yours, actually."
The bounty hunter stared at you for a long moment. You knew why he wanted you to do this, he needed the comfort of mind. Those times when he'd leave you in the ship alone, armed with nothing but a blaster and a farewell nod, it would plague him.
"It's everyone's job to know how to defend themselves," Din rasped, unbuckling the strap on his shoulder. The rifle framing his back sagged and he leaned it against a nearby boulder.
"This isn't fair," you were beginning to panic, now. "You're a big-ass Mandalorian in a shell of impenetrable armor with decades of training."
He nodded dismissively as he removed the jetpack, lowering it gently to sit by his weapon.
"I'm a mechanic," you said simply. "I don't want to get hurt right now, I want to go fix the rust bucket."
Din straightened, finally finishing the offload of his personal arsenal. The sunlight glinted off his visor, temporarily blinding you. Rubbing your eyes with a soft curse, you were startled to find him close when you recovered.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he negotiated softly, "you need this."
"I don't need to get body-slammed," you snapped.
"If you're afraid now, how do you think you'll go when someone is actually trying to kill you?"
He was getting frustrated with your lack of co-operation. You could hear it in the lilt of his voice, the sudden husk of his words. It made you shiver, you didn't want to be riling up someone who was teaching you to fight.
You had always relied on him for your protection just as he had relied on you for your technical abilities. The difference was that he knew enough about your trade to stop his ship from falling out of the sky, whereas, you couldn't fight your way out of a wet paper bag.
"If you punch me," you pointed a shaky finger to his chest, "I will wire the Crest to self-ignite."
"Deal."
With that damning statement, he gripped you by the shoulders.
You blinked at him, nervously sinking into his hold. That was quick, although you weren't sure why you had expected a warning. Was he about to throw you? Headbutt you? Squeeze you to death?
To your surprise, it was none of the above. Rather, the hunter simply stood unmoving. It was as though he was almost... expectant.
"Well?" He jostled you lightly in his grip. "What would you do?"
You stared at him owlishly.
There was a sigh, his fingers dipping into the skin of your shoulders. You were pushing his buttons without trying and for once you were too afraid to take advantage of it.
"If somebody did this to you, how would you handle it?" Mando clarified.
Oh. You bit your lip as your mind raced to answer his question. You knew a little from your days before the bounty hunter, although you weren't sure it would do much against him.
When you opened your mouth to explain, the Mandalorian shook his head.
"Show me," he said.
You did what you remembered: a simple maneuver that had you pushing at the insides of his arms. To your relief, he let go and allowed you to carry out your plans. Reversing the roles, you snatched his hands beneath your biceps, and once he was trapped, you raised your knee in the pretense of a groin kick.
"Good," Mando nodded, fingers resting against your back. You quickly let him go. The training was a lot gentler than you had expected, and although it was a pleasant surprise, your companion had a wicked sense of humor. You rarely got to see it, but when you did, you were generally the butt of the joke.
"The aim is to get away," Din said, casually stepping into your space. "Don't stick around to fight."
You surrendered some ground, inching backward in the face of his approach. You didn't want him too close, purely based on the lack of reaction time you would be given. "Really?" You snarked quietly, "I think I could take you."
There was a surprised chuckle from beneath the helmet, so short you would have missed it had you not been so hyperaware of his presence.
"Yeah?" He teased you softly, walking you backward with slow strides.
"Yeah," you breathed.
"Come here, then." Din tilted his head.
"Nope," you wheezed, "no, I think I'm good."
He said nothing, offering only a small nod. The hunter made a show of looking over your shoulder and you felt a cold sweat trickle down your spine.
You should have been looking behind you, should have been aware of your surroundings. Had you not been so distracted by the man in front of you, you would have noticed that he'd been backing you towards a boulder.
Your breath was knocked from your lungs when your body made contact, the fabric of your clothes snatching against the rough rock. This wasn't a good spot to be in. Whatever was coming next would either be painful or humiliating and you sighed.
A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed that you wouldn't be able to simply walk around it. The obstacle was as wide as it was tall.
You made no attempt to move as the Mandalorian approached, where could you go? You'd concede to this loss and maybe he'd let you return to your actual job. But, instead, you realized he was toying with you, moving with the same torturously slow pace.
"Always be aware of your surroundings," he said with an arrogant shrug.
"You distracted me." You snapped, anxiety crawling from your stomach to your chest. You had no reason to be afraid, he wouldn't hurt you and you knew it. There was just something in the way that he walked, a demeanor you'd never seen before.
You wonder if you had mistaken a very different feeling for fear.
"I seem to do that a lot," the words were honeyed, suspiciously so.
The urge to close your eyes in anticipation was strong when he finally came to a stop in front of you. Settling for a squint, you flinched as he raised his hand to your neck.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured roughly, "but if this was real you'd be dead."
"That's not fair," you huffed, framing the statement with a sardonic laugh. "You haven't even given me a scenario to work with yet."
You'd barely finished your sentence when he moved.
A hard boot kicked the inside of your foot, forcing you to widen your stance. The cold, hard beskar of his thigh pressed against the inside of your legs, pressuring them to remain open.
A sharp gasp fell involuntarily from your lips when his hand raised to rest against the base of your neck. Your eyes squeezed shut, grimacing as you held his wrist instinctively. His grip was soft, almost a caress, but the warning twitch of his fingers indicated that he would squeeze if needed.
The hunter's other hand settled against your waist, fingers digging firmly into the curve of your body. Another silent announcement that he could make it really hurt if he'd wanted to.
"Better?" He asked roughly against your ear. Your eyes shot open, chest heaving as you assessed his position. The inky black of his visor was barely a couple of inches from your face and your nose brushed against the metal of his helmet.
"You're really close right now," you blurted. The proximity made you dizzy, you would have swayed had he not been holding you so tightly. Both your hands gripped his wrist hard as he tightened his fingers fractionally before loosening again. The movement was almost playful and you knew then that he was enjoying this.
"I could be closer, Mesh'la," he murmured. He tugged at the hem of your shirt softly, slipping his touch to your skin. The leather of his gloves was cool against the raging warmth of your body.
You choked at the sensation.
"Are you flirting with me?" You whimpered disbelievingly. When you woke up this morning, nobody could have convinced you that this would be your afternoon.
"I'm trying to make you uncomfortable," he corrected.
"That's not the word I'd use, Din," you breathed.
There was a stunned silence and his fingers twitched against your skin. It was one of his tells, the small movement an easy way to assess his emotional state.
"How-" he cleared his throat, "how would you get out of this?"
"I wouldn't," you said simply.
"Why not?"
"You'd have never let anybody get this close," you rasped, watching him from beneath your lashes. You knew that wasn't what he was asking, not what this training session was for. In your defense, he had thrown that out the second he'd shoved himself in between your legs.
Your core tightened, pooling with a delicious heat that settled low. The pair of you had danced around your feelings for each other for so long, never approaching the topic but acknowledging it silently.
But Din had never been so bold before.
"What if I wasn't there?" He rebutted, tilting his head lightly. Your breath hitched in your throat as his thumb slowly stroked the skin of your side. "What if you were alone?"
"You're always there," you uttered lowly, the promise of a smile playing on the corner of your mouth.
"And what about now?" Din murmured, slowly pulling you to his chest. The hand around your throat lifted, skimming the skin of your neck to settle on your jaw. "How will you handle this?"
"Take me to the Crest and I'll show you."
With a knowing smirk, you hooked a finger into the bottom of his helmet. The digit was lost to the black abyss as you pulled him down.
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luveline · 1 year
Note
First of all congrats lovely!!! Can I request do you wanna dance? with vampire!eddie pretty please?
join luveline's halloween party ♡
thank you!!! and ty for requesting | vampire!eddie x shy!fem!reader
"Hello, little mouse," Eddie says.
It's a bad joke. He knows he sounds like a creepy stalker as he says it, and he's glad to hear your startled laughter. You were looking much too tense.
"Hi, Eddie," you greet quietly.
He nods toward the empty seat beside you on the bench. "Anybody sitting there?"
"Only you."
He smiles gratefully and sits. He's quickly aware of your warmth. Heat radiates off of you in droves and he can hear the tell-tale bump of your heart cycling blood through your body. You don't smell like blood, though. You smell sweet, perfume worn away by the wind.
"Cold for you, isn't it?" he asks.
You let your cheek drop to your shoulder. "It's okay."
You're not hard to talk to, Eddie's found, only hard to warm up.
It's ironic. He's the cold one, after all.
You're the kind of shy that both endears and infuriates him. Endears, because you're adorable, fleeting smiles and muted clothes to hide from any attention. Infuriates, because you're shy for a reason, always flustered and disappointed by your own humanity.
Scared of your own shadow, Eddie dreads to think what you might think of him if you knew the truth.
"Why are you out so late?" he asks.
"You know... S'loud, at home. Easier to be out here, even if it's freezing."
"Your parents still fighting?"
Again, you startle. "Did I tell you about that?"
No, you hadn't. Eddie can hear it all the way across the trailer park, the same way he can hear your unhappy breathing, your fingers flipping through the same old book you have right now in your lap.
He winces and feels awful for lying. Better to lie to you than have you never speak to him again. "Yeah, you did."
You stare at him for a moment before sighing, chest deflating forward as you exhale like all the fight has been knocked out of you in one awful go. "They're still fighting."
Eddie watches your upset grow. You squash it down, but it's clear his reminding you has reopened the wound. You'd come here to get away from it all and Eddie had pretty much thrown it back into your lap.
"How's your book?" he asks.
You shrug.
Eddie curses at himself. Can't ever keep your fucking mouth shut, he thinks, pulling a mean hand through his knotty hair.
You're very quiet for a long time. Eddie deliberately leaving you to your own devices, even adjusts his foot like he's about to leave, but your heart starts to ramp up and he settles down. Your pulse slows, Eddie's ego soars, and he stays right there beside you on the bench trying to shield you from the cold.
You meet his eyes as he turns to you.
"You really shouldn't stay out here for so long," he says, tone heavy with much more confidence than he feels. "You'll catch your death."
"Just a little longer."
He nods, though you hadn't been asking permission. The sun has all but set now, the sky dull and the horizon a glowing beam of orange that he swears makes his skin crawl, though he knows it's his imagination. The sun does irk him, but it definitely doesn't hurt.
Eddie directs his gaze back to you as you move, bringing a slow hand to your thigh. You rub your palm against the denim of your jeans, bracelets clinking on your wrist.
"That's nice," he says.
Your smile is small but genuine. "The one with the hearts?" you ask.
"Mm. Can I see?"
You look like you're going to unclasp it. Stupid, he thinks, Holy shit. Because if you take your bracelet off and hand it to him, it might well scorch hearts into his palm. Fucking silver.
He takes your hand instead. You exhale too quickly for it to be a coincidence. Your heartbeat doesn't change, so Eddie keeps your hand in his and pulls your arm closer to his chest. He looks down at your wrist. He can practically see the blood bumping underneath.
You have really nice skin, in his opinion. It's a beautiful colour. It might be a weird thing to notice.
Eddie notices everything. Bad habit.
Like your hands being so cold. He doesn't have the most reliable heat sensors anymore but he can tell you're just as cold as he is. Good thing, friction always works.
"It's so nice, where'd you get it?" he asks. No, he doesn't really care where you got it. He's not about to go and buy one for himself. He just likes to hear you speak, and he wants to distract you.
You start to tell him in your lilting, charming way, a quiet story with little embellishment. As you do, he rubs your hand between both of his and marvels as warmth floods back into your skin. You're mumbling about the glass case in the jewellery store as he takes your second hand. In his hurry, a charm on your bracelet brushes against his finger and makes him jump.
"Eddie?" you ask quietly.
"Nothing. Go on," he says.
Your smile is funny. Cute, pretty, a tiny bit awkward. He rubs your hands between his own until your blood works slow as molasses through your veins. If he didn't know better, he'd say you were close to sleep.
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axailslink · 1 year
Note
could you do something where riri has been flirting with reader and riri is known for being a bit of a player but the reader is shy and doesn’t just want to be the another girl in riri’s lineup?
Go fuck yourself Riri Williams
Riri Williams x poc FEM reader
Part 1 Part 2
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Summary: Riri has a list and you're on it every girl Riri wants she gets but she can't get you because you don't want to be next in her little fucking line up.
Snippet from the fic: " "God damnit Riri you kissed me!" Riri scoffs "I kissed you? Are you forgetting your part? Kissing is a two party game" "
Riri has an eye for what she wants she also had a new girl for each month and right now she was trying to catch you in her web of lies, deceit, and manipulation. Riri Williams you'll hear praises about her from the professors and all her teachers but ask anyone else they'll tell you the truth.
"She's a lying snake."
"She's a jealous bitch who can't handle what's given to her."
"She ain't shit."
Ask every girl and they knew even the ones she hadn't dated but you are right up her alley shy, reserved, and maybe a bit heartless when it comes to love. If she were to get you and hurt you two things could happen she could break you and you'd want her dead or she would fall into your web and you could break her. So whenever you see her coming you run the other way but as you sit in line waiting for your food you can't avoid her gaze. You can feel her eyes undressing you almost as if the clothes are slipping right off of your skin. You're quick to turn around and she's doing just as you assumed staring you down but you say nothing because she currently has her hand around a girls waist and you are not about to get into it with one of the rachet hoes she decides to keep for the night. You look around at the walls to make it seem as if you're looking for something before turning back around. You don't know how the hell you both ended up eating at the same place but you want your food to go now. Riri has made it very well known that she wants you and she wants you badly. The flirting is forever obvious and straight forward she doesn't bounce around her point. When the man comes back with your plate you ask him if you could have it to go and he nods leaving to grab a to go box. Hopefully she says nothing to you she's with her girl she wouldn't dare say anything to you when she's with her girl. As if the Gods themselves notice the obstacle saving you from harassment she walks outside but not before kissing Riri. When the man comes back you're quick to speed to a table and put your food on the to go plate but Riri is quick as she places her hand on your shoulder. "You ain't gone say hi?" You sigh and ignore her "leave me be I'm not bothering you" she smiles "that's the problem maybe I want you to bother me give me a bit of attention." You bite your tongue as you grab your food and gently push past her. "Y/n you are always running from what are you scared of?" You scoff and turn back around "I ain't scared shit" she smiles "you getting riled up I barely hear you talk this is new." You turn back around and walk out of the fast food place you have no interest in her... Well that's what you want to believe. Sadly you are quite interested in Riri. She's something you've never had; she's like the forbidden fruit for you.
She follows behind you and looks you up and down "you're quiet I like that c'mon give me a chance?" She smiles that half sided smile at you and you almost fold right there. Everything you've heard about Riri Williams goes out the window all of it. The tales of her lies, manipulation, and deceit all go into a box and out the window. "I have a lecture in fifty minutes and your girl doesn't seem too happy right now" you point out the girl behind you with both her hands on her hips as she looks Riri up and down. Riri shrugs "she'll be gone in an hour if you give me a chance." You laugh and look at her as you unlock your car doors. "I'm not interested in your games plus I like my women grown and you playing kids games. I'm young but I ain't no toddler. Neither are you" Riri is a bit shocked by your words you've never said more than "leave me alone" to her so this is new territory you were talking to her so maybe she does have a chance.
Riri doesn't stop for the next month. She hasn't even tried picking up any other girl because she's too busy with you. She's buying you things and bringing them to your dorm you're not even sure how she found out where your dorm is but the gifts don't stop coming. First it's simple like a single rose or flower but with time the gifts became more mounted to purses and wallets and they don't look cheap. All of these gifts and they don't bother you. You stack the purses in a corner in your room and you might sell them but who knows the flowers you keep because they're beautiful. Those gifts don't bother you but one that hits home a little too well is a handwritten letter in cursive. It's neat too. You don't even bother reading it, you let it sit on your desk for a week but with each day your interest grows until finally you've had enough you read over the lines carefully taking it all in.
You interest me I find you interesting Y/n you're pretty but you aren't just pretty you have a mind of your own and it's brilliant. You aren't just some pretty face or body and I like that about you and I think I might have actual feelings for you-
You stop reading the letter and scoff as you rip it up why? Because it can't be true she only talks to you to taunt you she doesn't even have real feelings she doesn't what the fuck she wants. It honestly pisses you off because what type of out of character bullshit is this? You dump your storage box on your bed and fill it with all of her little gifts including the torn letter. You slip on your slides and stomp out of your room furious is not the word for your feeling right now. You approach the hall and you knock her door quickly trying to get away from the prying eyes trying to read you. When she opens the door you push past her and close the door "what the hell is this? So you have feelings now? What? You like me?" You push the box towards her and she grabs it observing its contents before looking back at you. "Have you read it?" You sigh as you drop the basket in front of you and pick up the torn pieces "I think I think' you're fucking ridiculous because I'm not stupid I know what you want and I'm not dumb." Riri nods as if understanding your frustration but she doesn't understand how much it hurts when someone you genuinely like plays as if they like you too. "What do I want then?" "To hurt me to use and throw me away you're ridiculous you're a mess Riri Williams a mess I don't want you" she shrugs "then I don't want you" you hadn't realized just how close you both were until now the basket being the only obstacle between you both. "You don't have to want me I don't care" you shrug but Riri only nods as she watches you inch closer to her "I don't care that you don't care about me not wanting you" you find yourself looking into those damned brown eyes of hers and she smiles for once she shows you a genuine smile.
The smile is the key, it's what makes you lean in and your big hate filled eyes make her lean in. She kicks the box out of the way and lets her hands grasp your face. Air is no longer a necessity; the kiss you both share gives you all you need to live. It should end as quickly as it happens but it doesn't as a matter of fact it doesn't stop until hands start roaming up your body only then do you pull away remembering that air is a necessity to live. You both gasp and the realization hits you as you push her out of anger "God damnit Riri you kissed me!" Riri scoffs "I kissed you? Are you forgetting your part? Kissing is a two party game" you groan and rub your face "why are you making this so hard? Why? Just leave me alone, let me not like you" Riri smiles when she hears your words "you like me?" You roll your eyes and empty the storage box "go fuck yourself Riri Williams."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In your mind she almost looks innocent in your dreams and thoughts Riri Williams is a saint but that's the Riri Williams you want. While you're trying so hard to not let your feelings get to you as you're curled up in bed Riri's looking over her list.
The list of women that she's hurt in some way somehow she wasn't quite finished with you though you are...complicated
Keyshia
Aaliyah
Tasha
Chanel
Y/n
She doesn't know if she wants to hurt you or be the reason no one else hurts you seeing you yell at her and toss her gifts on her floor it makes Riri think it makes her wonder. Could she be a good girlfriend and would you even take the chance after today? Could Riri Williams redeem herself?
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analogwriting · 3 months
Text
It Comes in Waves
Chapter 28: Closeout
Trafalgar Law x gn!reader word count: 2.1k a/n: well, this is it. this is the end. i didn't think i'd ever actually write and publish this but here we are. and i definitely didn't think people would like it but i see y'alls comments n likes. y'all got me cryin' frfr. anyway - i have a lot more in store. i have so many prompts on my phone. the dreams don't stop either sooo...here's to the next one ig lmao thank you all for reading n hopefully you'll stick around for what's to come ;a; (who knows, maybe I'll write a smutty epilogue in the future) first
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Word eventually let out that you were awake, the Strawhats coming to check on you as well. They filled you in on their various battles and you were in awe of each one of them. It seemed, however, that not only was Luffy still out of commission, but so was Zoro. They seemed to have really pushed themselves this time around.
Fitting that it was the both of them, too.
Even when the Strawhats visited, Law didn’t leave your side, opting for sitting in the chair next to your bed. Nami and Sanji were giving you side eyes you were absolutely trying to ignore. Robin seemed to smile at you in a way that made you suspicious of her. She always had the knowing mom look, though.
Once they all filed out, you groaned, plopping back into your mattress. “I am so exhausted,” you mumbled, throwing an arm over your eyes. You felt the bed next to you dip, a tell tale sign that Law had moved back to sitting closer to you.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” You groaned, looking at him as you moved your arm. “I need to get out of this room. I’m getting cabin fever,” you mumbled, sitting back up.
“Then let’s go on a walk.” Your eyes lit up. “Really?” Law nodded. “I don’t see why not. You’re all healed up, I think you resting was just a formality at this point.”
In moments, you were out of bed, standing and stretching. A groan escaped from your lips as you did so. Your hands were above your head as you stretched yourself out and you felt a set of arms wrap around your middle. A quick glance and you saw the familiar tattoos that you loved so much. Your face warmed up and you smiled, your own hands, resting on top of Law’s. Your head moved to the side slightly as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“You’re very clingy,” you teased softly.
“Well, now that I have you, I don’t want to let you go,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and you leaned into him. You looked out the window to the town below. It was a serene feeling right now. Something that you wished could last forever. However, with both of you being pirates, that wasn’t possible, but you weren’t going to complain. As much as you were enjoying the moment, if everyday was like this - you’d get bored so fast.
You turned around in Law’s arms, looking at him. You pressed kiss to his lips, humming softly.
“FOOD!” You pulled from Law as you heard a familiar holler. Your eyes went to the door, widening. He was awake? You looked at Law, who let you go and nodded. “Go on.”
You smiled, but interlaced your fingers with him as you took off down the hallway and to where you were hearing Luffy chanting for something to eat. Law followed you, protesting the running, but going anyway. You stopped in the doorway as you saw Luffy. You had seen him earlier when he was all bandaged up and it almost brought you to tears.
He looked at you, a bright smile stretching across his face. “Y/N!” You let out a sigh of relief, seeing him looking just fine now. Sure, he still had some bandages on, but you knew he was just fine. “Luffy,” you said. “Good to see you’re doing okay.”
“Of course I am! I’m going to be King of the Pirates!” He cackled and you smiled. “Of course. You need to become the king first before you let yourself keel over, yeah?” He nodded as he stuffed his face.
“So, what’s that all about?” Zoro said, looking at you and nodding to your hand laced with Law’s. You felt Law tense and you snorted, looking at the greenhaired swordsman. “Listen, I know that you have no idea what it’s like to have someone love you, but surely you know what holding hands means,” you teased, smirking at him.
From somewhere, you heard Sanji laughing at your words. “Take that, mosshead!” You snorted, seeing Zoro narrow his eyes at you. “Why I oughta-”
“Try something and you know your captain will absolutely fight you,” you mumbled under your breath at him. He glared at you, but the two of you broke out into grins. “Good to see you’re doing just fine then,” he said. You nodded. “You too.”
You sat down with Law, catching up with Luffy and Zoro. You filled them in on other events that happened outside of their battles that you knew about and they told you about theirs. It wasn’t long before both the Strawhats and the Heart Pirates joined. After all, the captains were here, so it made plenty of sense.
Everyone delved into their own conversations. “By the way, y/n,” Shachi began, capturing your attention, “What was that giant flaming lady talking about?” You blinked, tilting your head to the side. “Yeah, I’m curious too,” Law said from beside you.
Then you remembered. “Yeah, I have absolutely no idea.” You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re not related to a god?” You shook your head. “Not that I’m aware of.” You smirk, shrugging. “Maybe my looks are just so godlike, they mistook me for one,” you mused with a laugh. 
It raised some laughter from others and Law leaned in. “Though, I don’t think I god could compare to you,” he murmured in your ear, making your face turn red. “You keep saying things like that and I’m going to have to take you into the other room to make you deal with the consequences,” you murmured right back. He just grinned, pulling away.
Once more, you had that feeling of absolute content. Everything felt like it was in the right place. You were officially part of the Heart Pirates, Law was by your side, another battle won, and you also found a little bit of closure somewhere along the way. You knew that somewhere, your father was looking down on you with a smile on his face. And you knew Corazon had to be doing the same for Law. 
You looked over as Shachi and Penguin seemed to be teasing him relentlessly about you. “I’m just glad it’s finally a thing - he would not shut up about you sometimes,” Shachi said. You raised your eyebrows. “Oh?” A grin slowly spread across your face and you chuckled.
“Yeah,” Penguin began, “You remember that one island? The one where you two had to race? He would not shut up about you after you left. Talking about how you were so smart and amazing.” You raised your eyebrows, looking at a very red Law. “Is that true?” you teased him softly, earning a glare - or what he tried to use as a glare. You just snorted, laughing loudly. “Didn’t realize I had such an impression.” You pressed your shoulder into Law’s and he grumbled. 
“Well, sometimes they wouldn’t shut up about you either,” Nami interjected, joining your small group. Your own eyes widened as you silently pleaded for her to not. She sat down. “You know my price,” she mused and you knew it was game over. You didn’t have enough berries to keep her quiet and the both of you knew it. Especially since this is something she had been hanging on to so long.
“I remember one night, you had been drinking, and you wouldn’t shut up about Law. Talking about, well, sounds like exactly what he did.” Nami laughed as you started turning red. “Sanji and I started taking bets on when it would happen. Usopp was even in on it.” Your mouth fell open. Bets? 
Penguin laughed. “We had bets too!” Both you and Law just stared at your fellow friends before looking at each other. “Was it really that bad?” you said, and, in unison, everyone chimed, “Yes!”
Both of you were redder than tomatoes at this point. Damn, you didn’t realize.
“Wait, so Traffy and y/n are dating?” You heard Luffy’s voice from behind you. You turned around and noticed he was talking to Zoro, who nodded. “Oh cool! They always seemed to get along really well - I’m happy for them!” You honestly were surprised he caught on in the slightest. You couldn’t help but smile as you turned back around. 
“I even still have that picture from the party,” Sanji said, holding up a photo. Penguin and Shachi were up so fast that they almost tipped over their drinks. “Picture?” they chimed, looking at the cook.
“Sanji, I’m begging you,” you began. “Luffy!” You held out your hand, Law looking at you in absolute confusion.
“Got it!” His sandal was in your hand. “What are you-” Law began, but Sanji yelped. “Not again, please! Fine, fine. I won’t show it.” You began to lower your weapon, glaring at him when a certain orange haired girl cleared her throat.
Nami grinned, holding up her copy. “How many do you have?” You groaned, knowing you couldn’t win.
“Enough.” However, you noticed Brook talking to Ikkaku. “I was just wondering if I cou-” You moved fast, flinging the sandal in his direction, smacking him in the head. He cried out, rubbing his skull where you hit him. “Leave Ikkaku alone!” you shouted at him.
Luffy cackled from behind you. “It never gets old!” He fell onto the floor laughing.
“What the hell is that all about?” Law asked, still confused on what he had just witnessed. He looked a little frightened and a little turned on. “Oh, it’s a secret technique of mine. I call it fuck around and find out, featuring Luffy’s chancla,” you said with a shrug.
Your new captain just stared at you in bewilderment. You heard Shachi’s voice. “Keep sandals away from y/n, got it.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Anything can be a chancla if you’re not a coward,” you warned, causing him to yelp and latch on to Penguin. You just grinned, laughing.
It wasn’t long before people were looking at the picture. “Aw! You look like a little family,” you heard Robin say. “Our little y/n…all grown up,” you heard Franky say from next to her, pretending to wipe away a tear. You groaned, hiding behind your own hands.
While the others were distracted, Law reached into his pocket and took out one just like it. “Wait, when the hell did you get one?” You looked at him in bewilderment.
“Remember when you were wearing my jacket? You stuffed it in the pocket and when you returned it, it was still in there.”
“And you kept it?” you asked, feeling your heart race. A sheepish grin spread across the man’s face and you just stared at him. That was so incredibly sweet and you had no idea what to do. You wanted to kiss him right here and now, but you knew the others would not shut up if you did. Maybe you were going to take him to another room and absolutely shag the life out of him.
You sighed, laughing softly. “Guess, under the circumstances, it makes sense,” you mused, looking to the others as they all celebrated. You knew you all would be setting sail soon. You’d be leaving with the Heart Pirates and saying goodbye to Luffy and the Strawhats, so you were going to enjoy this while it lasted.
You felt Law’s hand find yours, lacing your fingers together once more. You glanced at him, but he was currently engrossed in a conversation with Robin. A soft smile settled on your face as you turned your attention to the duo of troublemakers.
“Oh, we need to get you caught up on that romance. A new book came out and Shachi read it. Apparently…” Penguin went into a rant about the book series that they had started reading and discussing with you a couple of years ago. Damn, a couple of years already? Time seriously flew by. You felt Law squeeze your hand gently and you glanced at him. He gave you a small grin as he looked at you from the corner of his eye and you returned it before you both returned to your conversations.
This was the start of a new chapter of your life and you couldn’t be more excited.
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