#knock me back onto the right trajectory

[fairyvearths]

3 times you try (and fail) to kiss luffy and the 1 time he kisses you

FANDOM: one piece WORD COUNT: 5, 300+ PAIRING: monkey d. luffy x reader WARNINGS: none, for the most part. a hint of jealousy, but it’s very small.

NOTE: hello @hawkix, i am your secret santa for the @onepiece-blorboexchange​. i hope this piece is to your liking. merry christmas, and happy holidays 🎄🎁 also cross-posted on archive

one

“You’re best friends with Luffy, right?”

Zoro is sleeping—or at least, trying to. With how rambunctious the crew is right now, and the way the ship rocks on the waves, it’s pretty easy to assume that the man is still awake. That, and, you had seen his brows flinch slightly when your shadow fell over his face.

But still, he pretends.

Fine.

You kick him.

Zoro catches your ankle before you make contact with his leg. “Oi,” he snaps.

You flail for balance, a squeal sticking in your throat as your centre of gravity tilts.

Zoro pulls you as you fall and you crash on your side.

“Ow,” you say, mostly for show, because your arm had cushioned your landing and you’ve been through much worse than this. Zoro knows it too.

“Quit being a baby,” he grouses, shifting himself up higher on the railing now that he’s officially awoken from his nap. “The Hell were you thinking, trying to kick me?”

You roll onto your back. “You were ignoring me.”

“I was trying to sleep.”

“But you weren’t, yet.”

“Yeah—yet. I was getting there.”

“So you just ignored me?” You bat your arm in his general direction. “What if it was an emergency?”

“It wasn’t.”

“You don’t care about me.”

“The Hell?”

You giggle because he didn’t say, ‘Yeah, of course I don’t’ and that’s a win if you’ve ever encountered one. “You don’t,” you sigh, carpeting the floor with your faux misery. “I could die and you woul—”

“Shut up.” Zoro actually jabs you in the arm with the hilt of one of his swords.

“Hey!”

“You didn’t hit your head when you fell, right?”

You scoff, mirthful shock coating your words, “Are you calling me stupid?”

“No—I mean, I made sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell.”

It takes a while for his words to click in your brain, and when it does—Oh. You turn your head to look at him, cheek pressing into the hardwood floors. “Why can’t you just say you care about me like someone who isn’t emotionally constipated?”

Zoro scowls, crossing his arms across his chest and looking away like he’s a four-year-old child throwing a tantrum. “Is this what you woke me up for?” he grumbles.

You want to keep ribbing him, but you understand that Zoro is being defensive, so you take his cue and reroute the conversation. “No, actually—I wanted to ask you a favour.”

He turns back, scepticism raising his brows. “About Luffy?”

You open your mouth to ask how he knows, but you realise you had asked about your captain when you approached Zoro. “So you did ignore me,” you gasp, slightly maybe a lot offended.

“Yeah, of course I did—I was trying to sleep!” he shoots back.

It’s your turn to cross your arms over your chest and cast your gaze to the sky. “I can’t believe you.”

Zoro clicks his tongue before tapping your leg lightly with his foot. “What’d you need help with?”

“Nah,” you push out with a breath, “I don’t want your help anymore.”

“Fine,” Zoro says, yawning. “Go somewhere else—I’m trying to sleep.”

You slap his knee. “Oi.”

“What do you need, then?”

“I wanna kiss Luffy.”

A beat. Then, “And you’re telling me, because?”

“Because, Zoro,” you say, turning to face him again, “last time I tried, you called his attention to a Sea King and ran off with him.”

Zoro snorts. “So, go kiss him now.” He jerks his chin towards the deck where he, Usopp and Chopper are gathered. “He’s not busy.”

“It’s not that simple,” you intone, stretching out your words. “I can’t just do it out of nowhere, it has to be proper and—”

“Oh, kill me now,” Zoro whispers in exasperation. He deflects another one of your attacks, knocking your hand out of its trajectory. “If you wanted romantic, you should’ve gone to the Cook.”

“But he’s your best friend,” you reiterate. “You know him better than anyone here.”

Zoro sighs, long-sufferingly. “Have you tried talking to him?” he asks, tired.

“No?” Bewilderment laces your tone, falling in a heavy heap on the ground. “I’m not telling Luffy I want to kiss him.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird; I can’t just tell him, I just gotta do it.”

“Then do it—He’s right there.” Once again, he gestures towards your captain, as if you’re not already hyperaware of his presence.

“Not like that,” you hiss.

“Oh, my God,” Zoro grumbles. “Stop being difficult.”

“I’m not! I just need to you to help me—”

“I’m trying! You keep dismissing my solutions. It’s so easy, here, look—Luffy!”

Your heart jumps into your throat as Zoro hollers, and you leap forward to cover his mouth. You misjudge the distance, punching him in the cheek instead.

“What the fuck?” Zoro rears his head back, slapping your hand away.

“Shit, I’m so sorry—” You retract your offending limb, covering your mouth in shock. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, didn’t hurt,” he says, and you can tell he’s not just saying it to make you feel better. The man’s been through so much worse, and you both know it. “Just, what the fuck, though?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you lament. “I just—You yelled, and I was trying to stop you, but I—”

“What’s up?”

You didn’t scream.

You didn’t.

You just, got startled. Because it was Luffy. And he came out of nowhere. And if Zoro or Luffy said you screamed… well.

They don’t know what they’re talking about.

You whip around, heart hammering in your throat because you were just talking about kissing Luffy, and now the man is here, squatting in front of you, and you don’t know how much he may have overheard. “Nothing!” Your voice comes out high and nervous.

“Fucking—” Zoro sighs, nudging you towards Luffy with his calf because in your scramble to shut Zoro up, you’d landed on his leg. “Can you just ki—”

You’re more successful this time, shouting over the top of his words and slapping a hand to his mouth. “What the Hell is wrong with y—Ow!” You wrench your hand away at a sharp sting on your palm. “Did you just bite me?” At Zoro’s deadpan stare, you furrow your brows. “What kinda feral—?”

Behind you, Luffy laughs; so loud and carefree that your heart stutters in your chest.

You think you might pass out, but you turn to look at your captain because his joy is always a sight to behold.

“Wow,” Zoro muses aloud, “you are down ba—”

You jerk your elbow into Zoro’s stomach, cutting off his words. “Shut up!” you hiss.

“What were you guys talking about?” Luffy asks again when he settles down.

“Nothing,” you repeat, voice calmer.

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Really?”

“Except for the fact that Zoro is being a butthead,” you say pointedly.

“Butthead?” the butthead echoes.

“Ah.” Luffy nods sagely. “That sounds like Zoro.”

“Oi!”

You giggle, watching as Zoro grabs a sword and jolts the hilt towards Luffy’s face.

Luffy grabs the hilt to deflect it, but when Zoro pulls his weapon back, Luffy careens forward.

“Ah!” The shout is more from surprise than anything, Luffy’s knee colliding with your shin as he practically falls on you.

“Shit,” Zoro breathes.

“Oh.” Luffy scrambles himself off your leg. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you dismiss his concern. “That actually didn’t hurt, I’m fine.” You’re hefting yourself up with your elbows, expecting Luffy to move out of your way.

But he doesn’t.

And now you’ve almost pushed yourself up against his chest.

And he’s looking at you so earnestly your cheeks are flushing. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he presses.

You nod, throat thick. Body warm. Your eyes dart down to his lips. The urge to kiss him rises tenfold. Maybe you could just do it. No fancy situation, no set up. Just… this. With him hovering over you because it just happened that way. Staring at you with concern swimming in his pupils.

“So, can I go now?” Zoro pipes up from behind you.

You startle, bumping a shoulder into Luffy’s chin.

Luffy recoils, effectively severing the moment.

“I am so sorry!” you gasp, reaching out to cradle his head. “Oh God, are you okay?”

Luffy nods in your hands, chuckling lightly. “’M fine.”

“Zoro, you can’t just do that!” you hiss at him.

“I have been here the whole time,” he deadpans. “But it seems I’ve done my job, so I’m gonna g—”

Luffy tilts his head. “What job?”

“Nothing!” you yell before Zoro can answer, letting go of Luffy like you’ve been burnt. “Nothing.” You slide out from between the two of them and clamber to your feet. “You take your nap,” you say to Zoro, “and you can go back to—” You signal towards Usopp and Chopper, “playing, I don’t know.” You smile at Luffy even though you don’t really feel it. “I’ll go.” You depart before the two of them can say anything to you.

“You were too much of a butthead,” Luffy says in a low enough voice that you know he’s not talking to you.

There’s the sound of something hard hitting something fleshy.

“How’s this my fault?” Zoro retaliates.

You duck into your room before you can hear if their banter escalates to sparring.

two

There’s a stabbing pain in your side, but you ignore it in favour of running across the rubble—or at least, try to. The sharp ache is all encompassing, and you’re pretty sure you’re bleeding out as well.

But right now, it’s of no matter.

What is of matter, though, is the fact that Luffy is on the other side of this debris, and you need to get to him.

You crest the peak and start down the slope towards the ground, towards your captain wobbling on his feet, bruised and ruffled. “Luffy!”

He turns when you call out to him, face lighting up when he catches sight of you.

You’re practically tripping over your own feet to make it over to him, teeth gritting at the jabs that lance through your ribs.

He crashes into your body when you enter his personal space, your legs faltering under the unanticipated weight.

You catch yourself on your knees, holding in the gasp that wants to escape because him jarring into you didn’t help. You wrap your arms beneath his shoulders to keep him up. “Hey,” you breathe out, chest releasing some of the air that had been trapped in there at the thought of your captain in peril. “You okay?” You’re frantically pawing at his face, thumbs swiping at the blood and cuts.

Luffy nods, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “’M good,” he manages to answer around you pulling on his skin. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” Satisfied with your inspection—his wounds are shallow and will heal up at a rate that still shocks you—relief pools into your stomach. “We’re good, we won.”

He furrows his brows, eyes scanning your face before they rest down your body. “You’re hurt,” he states.

“It’s fine.” You shake your head, hiding a wince because, yeah, it does hurt, but you don’t want him to fuss over you when he looks like this. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he reiterates, cupping a hand over your wound.

“Ah!” You shrink away from his touch, unbalancing both you and him because he had been essentially leaning on you for support.

Luffy circles his arm around you, righting you before you topple backwards, taking him down too. “You’re hurt,” he repeats, voice soft.

You stare at him, face so close to yours that you can see his eyelashes. You’re so pressed up against him that you feel him breathing on your chest, every rise and fall in tandem with yours.

His heart is beating quickly—or maybe it’s yours.

It probably is yours.

He’s so close to you, and your brain feels like mush; lightheaded and echoey. Your ears thunder with the sound of your own heart. Your breaths catch in your chest.

“We should get you to Chopper,” he murmurs. He looks behind you, over the debris, where the rest of the crew should be.

A part of your brain knows it’s urgent, but the other part can’t stop staring at his lips as he speaks. “Luffy,” you utter.

He snaps his focus back to you, gaze darting between your eyes. “What?”

You shift your weight onto his, and he takes it easily, tightening his arm around you. You can feel your breath blow back on your face with how hard you’re breathing onto Luffy’s. Your head fills more and more with cotton as you careen towards his lips.

You black out before you make it.

three

After the fiasco of employing Zoro’s assistance, you decide that he actually isn’t much help at all. So the next best thing is to go to Robin. Because she’s clever, and smart.

You sit her down in the quiet of the aquarium and tell her about your dilemma, and about Zoro’s ridiculous suggestion of ‘just asking Luffy,’ and how nothing you’ve tried has worked.

She laughs at the end of your recollection, a soft thing that she hides in her palm before standing up. “Come with me,” she says.

You follow her, recognising the walk to the library as you’re halfway there.

She settles you down at the table before disappearing between some shelves, to, presumably, find a book. When she returns, a light in her eye, you know she’s found something good. “It’s Christmas soon,” she says as though it’s a suggestion.

“Okay?” you ask, bemused. 

She chuckles softly, rifling through the pages to find the spread she wants and places it on the desk, tilting it so it’s upright for you to read. “Mistletoe.”

You look down at the page, a drawing of said plant on display. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s tradition,” she begins, “for people to kiss when they’re caught under a mistletoe together.”

You glance up at her. “Oh. So, we just have to get some mistletoe,” you say. The plan sounds easy enough.

But.

“Where, exactly, are we gonna get some mistletoe?”

“Next time we stop by an island, I suppose,” she muses quietly. “It’s a Christmas tradition,” she elaborates, “so at this time of year, people will be selling these everywhere.”

“Great—thank you.” You already feel much better about her advice than you did with Zoro’s. You lift the page between your fingers, pulling the paper. 

Arms sprout from the table, clutching at your wrist.

“What,” Robin says, a harsh lilt to her tone, “are you doing?”

“I just need to know what it looks like.”

“You’ve seen what it looks like,” she continues in the same voice.

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna remember it once we get to an island.”

“So, you decide to vandalise my book?”

“I’m not vandali—Ow, ow!” You let go of the page as she tightens her hold around you. “Okay, I made a mistake,” you cry.

The arms disappear. “I’ll buy it for you,” she resumes the conversation like nothing happened. “You can find some place to put it afterwards.”

You feel like you got whiplashed. “Okay,” you whisper, confused. “Thank you?”

It’s another three days before the ship docks at a small island, and Robin comes back with two sprigs of mistletoe. She hands one to you, keeping the other ‘just in case.’ You don’t really know what that means, but at this point, you know well enough to just leave her and her property alone.

“Where’s a good place to put this?” you ask, dangling the twig between your fingers.

“Where would Luffy spend most of his time?”

You sigh. 

You burst into the kitchen, having checked through the windows to make sure it was devoid of your captain first.

Sanji looks up at your sudden entrance, scraping carrots into a bowl. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he informs you absently. He returns to cutting the vegetables. “Probably start cooking in ten minutes.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

That piques his interest, the blond looking up again. “What’s up?” he asks, attention now more evenly split between the food prep and you.

“I…” You glance out the windows, as though talking about Luffy would summon him. “Need your help with something.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah.” You approach the counter where he’s working, sitting on a stool opposite him. “I need to put this,” you lift the sprig higher so he can see, “somewhere in here.”

Sanji stares at the plant. “Mistletoe?”

“Yes, see.” You tell him about Robin’s ingenious plan to help you kiss Luffy. And how Sanji knows the kitchen better than anyone, and knows where Luffy lingers the most.

Sanji lets out a sharp breath of amusement through his nose. “Okay.”

“Great! Just—not now. Christmas is in five days, so—”

“I got it,” Sanji says. “Keep it safe ‘til then.”

“Exactly, thank you!”

The following week is busy; the crew gathering to decorate the Sunny, and making quick stops onshore to find gifts for one another. Between draping garland and wrapping presents, you find yourself migrating to the kitchen a lot.

It’s not that you don’t trust Sanji.

But.

This is really important to you, and you don’t know if he’ll prioritise it the same. You make sure the mistletoe is still alive and fresh. Hidden somewhere out of sight and not easily disposed of if someone else were to help out in the kitchen. Most days, you volunteer yourself to assist, just so you know another crew member won’t find it, and then no embarrassing explanation would have to ensue.

It’s easier that way.

“Good morning,” Sanji greets, already anticipating your arrival with a cup of tea.

“Hey.” You take a sip before putting the beverage down. “Is—”

“Yep,” he says, already taking out the tin from the cupboard and sliding it across the countertop to you. “Same place as it was last night, when you checked. And the time before that, and before that too. And—”

“Alright,” you snap, no heat in your tone. “I’m just…” You shrug, at a loss for why you feel so obsessive over a piece of tree.

“Nervous?”

You sigh. “Yeah.”

Sanji pushes the tea over to your hands, and you smile at him. “How about, no more looking at it today.”

You frown. “I don’t think that’s gonna help.”

“Did looking at it help?”

You close the lid and pass it back to him. “No,” you admit quietly.

“I don’t think you’re stressed about the mistletoe disappearing,” Sanji says, voice incredibly soft as he addresses you.

You hum, tapping your fingers on the sides of the cup. “I just… want it to work.” Because if it doesn’t…

If it doesn’t…

That’s not something you want to think about.

“It will.” And he says it with so much certainty that for a second, you believe it too.

You don’t check up on the mistletoe for the rest of the day, but you do still help out in the kitchen.

You’re staring at the counter, where you know the mistletoe is. You know it’s there. You saw it this morning. Sanji let you put it back in there before closing the cupboard and declaring that place off-limits to you. And no one else had come in, other than to eat, and that was over here by the dining tables, not over there.

There’s still a gnawing feeling in your stomach, but you haven’t seen it. So, what if? What if someone came through, looking for something else, and in their search, saw it and took it?

“Are you okay?”

You blink back to the present, snippets of conversation tuning back into focus like a radio. Right. Dinner with the crew. Everyone’s here, eating and having fun. 

Sanji is peering at you from across the table, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah,” you say. “Just—distracted.” You look back down to your plate, surprised to find that nothing’s been taken from it.

“Do you want to check it?”

You purse your lips in thought. It would help.

But.

“No.” You shake your head. “I’ve already gone most of the day, right?” you say. “No point caving now.”

“If you’re sure,” Sanji relents. At your nod, he sighs. “Can you just eat something?”

You stick your spoon into the rice.

A chicken drumstick is placed on your plate, and when you follow the hand attached to it, you realise it belongs to Luffy, sitting on the far end of the table.

“You look sad,” he calls across, retracting his arm.

“I’m fine,” you dismiss his concern, turning back to your food. “Thanks.”

The rest of the crew watches, astounded at their captain’s generosity, and your lack of response.

When Christmas finally arrives, you’re not sure how you feel. Yes, it’s Christmas, so you’re excited. But that means putting up the mistletoe and finally bringing your plan to fruition. And that part, you’re more reluctant about.

You’re the first one in the kitchen aside from Sanji, and he looks up, smiling at you.

“Door,” he says.

You turn, watching it close. “What?”

“The mistletoe,” he reiterates. “Put it up last night.”

“Oh!” With the new information, you tilt your head back. It sways gently from the door’s motions. “That’s the best place for it?”

“Luffy comes and goes upwards of twenty times a day.” Sanji sounds sure of himself. “If there’s any place that he frequents a lot, it’s that door.”

“Thanks, Sanji,” you say, beelining for the tea he’s left for you on the counter.

Sanji starts to crack eggs into a mixing bowl, and you stare at your drink. “How are you feeling?”

You shrug. “Still nervous, but… not much else I can do about it.”

“Just.” He takes a whisk from the drawer. “Don’t think about it too much.”

Scoffing, you take a sip of your tea. “I really don’t think there’s anything else for me to think about, right now.”

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asks.

“Whatever you’re making,” you say absently, “I don’t mind.” You’re two-thirds of the way through your drink when you speak again. “What if it doesn’t go right?”

“How?”

“Like, what if…?” You swallow something thick. “What if he doesn’t want to kiss me? Then I’ve just—”

Luffy crashes through the door, startling you out of your conversation with Sanji. He scans the kitchen, face lighting up when he makes eye contact with you, bounding over. “What are you doing in here?” he asks, plopping himself down in the chair you’re standing next to.

“Nothing,” you deflect, because you don’t really want to tell him that you were lamenting to Sanji about whether he’d kiss you or not. But your answer is suspicious too, so you retract your earlier statement with what you hope is a carefree shrug.

(It’s not.)

“I was helping out with food and stuff.” You turn to the eggs already beaten laid out in front of Sanji. Shit.

Luffy hums, a slight dejection to the note. “Come outside,” he says instead.

You pause, trying to think of an excuse. “But we gotta make breakfast, then there’s the big Christmas dinn—”

“But I miss you,” he says, frowning.

Oh.

“We donʼt hang out much, anymore.”

You blink, gulping your dangerously loud heart back into your chest. It’s suddenly warm in the kitchen even though the ovens and stoves are off. “Okay,” you croak.

Luffy beams at you, and your breath sweeps away. He grabs your hand to lead you out, and your palm feels clammy in his.

As you’re leaving, Sanji clears his throat.

Luffy stops, turning around. “What?” he asks.

You turn too, a murderous glare pointed at the blond. Shut the fuck up, you will towards him.

Sanji flickers his gaze over your heads.

“What?” Luffy repeats.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, trying to step further onto the deck to steer him out of the kitchen.

Luffy purses his lips, standing his ground. He’s always been stronger than you, so your attempts to move him are rendered futile because he’s not cooperating. “No, I wanna know,” he presses. There’s a pout to his lips, and you can’t help but think he looks cute like this.

“It’s just.” You swallow thickly, tilting your head up to look at the top of the door frame.

Luffy follows your eyes, zeroing in on the lone green tendril hanging off the door. “Ah,” he says.

You watch him, trepidation drying your tongue.

“Why’d Sanji put food in such a weird place?”

“What?”

He shoots his arm towards it, clutching the plant in his hands—leaves and all.

And shoves it in his mouth.

“No!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sanji yells, vaulting over the counter. He grabs Luffy by the back of the neck. “Spit it out!”

“Luffy, that was mistletoe,” you say when you’ve gotten over the initial shock. Your hands are hovering over him, wanting to help but not sure how because Sanji is already there, and you’d only be in the way.

“So?” he manages to say around Sanji trying to pull his mouth open.

“Mistletoe is poisonous, you dumbass!” Sanji growls, realising that it’s already been swallowed. “We need to get you to Chopper.”

“But I feel fine,” Luffy protests.

You usher your captain out the door, heartbeat reverberating loudly in your throat. “No, please just—C’mon.” You walk around Luffy when you’ve exited the kitchen, pulling on his hand to lead him to the infirmary. You look at Sanji over Luffy’s shoulder. “You go…” You gesture back inside the kitchen. “I got this.”

“You sure?” Sanji asks.

You nod. “There’s a lot to do for today.” You turn back around, glancing at the rest of the deck. “Chopper!” you call out to him when you see the reindeer with Usopp and Nami.

Chopper darts his head up, looking at you. “Yeah?”

“We need you in here!” you say, pointing your thumb back towards the door of the doctor’s office.

There’s clambering as Chopper disregards his prior activities—unwrapping presents, judging by the colours on the floor—to run over. “What happened?” he asks when he’s closer.

“I ate something,” Luffy says when you open the door. “Sanji said it was poisonous.”

“Mistletoe,” you interject before Chopper can panic too much. You stand to the side, letting them in first.

“Mistletoe?” Chopper repeats.

“It’s… a long story.” 

plus one

Chopper releases Luffy from the infirmary after coming to the conclusion that the captain’s run-in with Magellan has heightened his tolerance for poison. So eating a twig of mistletoe will do nothing more to him than upset his stomach, which should pass on its own.

After the little doctor confirms this, you breathe out a sigh of relief.

Luffy turns to you; a smile on his face, a comment on his tongue of how you’d been so worried over nothing, but—

You’re exiting the room, door shutting behind you.

“Hey!” Luffy scrambles off the bed, sidestepping Chopper with a quick ‘Thanks!’ before dashing outside to find you.

You’re faster than anticipated, halfway to the dorms.

But Luffy has abilities that you don’t, so he stretches his arms, hooking his palm around the mast to slingshot himself forward, landing in front of you with a grunt.

“Fuck!” you hiss, jumping backwards, eyes wild with his sudden appearance.

“Sorry!” Luffy is quick to placate you.

“What the Hell?”

“Didn’t mean to scare you—What’s wrong?” He interrupts himself with the question because thatʼs more important right now, and knowing how the two of you like to banter, you’d gloss over how you’re feeling in order to keep teasing him about startling you. 

“What?”

“There’s something wrong with you,” Luffy says, because he hasn’t been seeing much of you this past week, and he thought that maybe you just wanted time for yourself to recharge, but you were always in the kitchen with Sanji, instead of hanging out with him like you usually did, and that—

He pushes that aside.

Not important right now.

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” you say quietly.

“Yes, there is.” He’s insistent, knowing that whatever it is is bothering you.

“It’s just… I wanted to—” You sigh. “Nothing,” you dismiss. Then, “It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid about it?”

You pause, thinking about his question. “I… don’t know.”

“So, it can’t be stupid.”

Your lips quirk up, a brief thing that lights up your face for a millisecond, but Luffy watches, enamoured, because he hasn’t seen it in so long.

“It’s…” You shrug, hesitation dancing across your features. You stare up at him, and he really wishes your eyes weren’t apprehensive.

“Tell me,” he presses gently.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Oh.” He suddenly finds it hard to breathe. “And that makes you upset?” The thought of that squeezes his chest.

“No, no! That doesn’t make me upset, it’s just, I’ve been trying to kiss you for the past month, but things would happen, and I couldn’t do it, and then we came up with this plan with the mistletoe, but you—”

He stretches his arms, wrapping them around your waist to pull you towards him. He leans down and seals his mouth over yours, effectively silencing you.

You gasp in surprise, but the noise is swallowed up, lips chasing after yours. He’s squeezing you to him, waist pulled in so close he can barely think straight.

You wrap your arms around his neck, urging him closer, and Luffy tilts his head, fingers breaching the hem of your shirt to caress your skin. You whimper, so delightfully desperate that Luffy pushes against you, tongue swiping across your bottom lip. 

He loves the noise—the neediness lacing your tone that he’s only ever heard you use towards him. Every time he’s been unimaginably close to you, he’d notice the way you’d stare at him, full of want and unadulterated longing that it fogs his brain and tightens his heart down to his stomach.

And how you’d whisper his name, like you did back in the forest, even though you were bleeding out. You were staring at his lips and he thought you were going to kiss him, and he realised that in that moment, he wanted to, too. And he would’ve. If you hadn’t passed out immediately after.

Then after he’d taken you to Chopper and you recovered, you pulled away, secluding yourself in the kitchen with Sanji, pretty much all day.

But, now.

Luffy gets to kiss you. He giggles into your mouth, something light bubbling away in his chest.

You pull away from him, breathing heavily. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you wanted to.”

“But did you want to?”

He thinks about you; his crewmate, nakama, friend. Someone he trusts with his life. Had gone through the biggest ups and downs of his life with you. Then he thinks about kissing you, of how many times he’d wanted to in the past, even before the forest. “Yeah.” And because he can, he pulls you in for another kiss, and he feels you smiling against his lips.

When you part this time, it’s his turn to ask a question. “Why didn’t you just kiss me when you wanted to?”

“Because it’s weird,” you say as if it’s common sense. “You can’t just kiss a friend out of nowhere.”

“But we’re not just friends. We’re… different.” 

“Different?” you echo.

“The way I feel about you, and us, it’s different from how I feel about the others. It’s just different with you.”

You swallow and Luffy watches your throat move. “So, you’re saying, I could have kissed you, at any time, in the past few months, and you would have been okay with it?”

Luffy nods. “Yep.”

You purse your lips. “Oh, dear Lord,” you mutter under your breath, “Zoro was right.”

“About what?”

“He said I should’ve just asked you—I thought he was being daft.”

Luffy laughs, and you smile up at him, drinking in the noise. “You’re silly.”

You nod, before double taking as you catch sight of something over his shoulder.

Luffy looks up too.

There’s another sprig of mistletoe dangling from under the mast, metres high above your head.

“Don’t,” you say, before Luffy can react, “eat it this time.”

#op y/n secret santa #one piece x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #one piece #one piece x you #one piece. #luffy. #gift. #blorbo exchange. #long post #( i rly hope you like this #i also couldn't gift it to you on ao3 )

[jeonqkooks]

canine conundrum | pjm (teaser)

part of the Paw Prints Academy collab! 🐾

The perfect conundrum consists of three variables: You, Park Jimin, and a golden retriever who does not give a flying fuck where he takes a dump.

pairing: jimin x f!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, dog trainer au, pure chaotic fluffiness, smut, minimal angst, jimin the dog trainer has a dark secret, full list of warnings in the final fic

release date: sometime in april or may!

word count: 414 (for the teaser)

note: i haven't written a proper oneshot in a hot minute! posting this rn to hold my own ass accountable to finish this fic lol. if anyone wants to volunteer to send me pics of blond jimin and golden retrievers for inspo every day then i'd be eternally grateful 🐣

For some goddamn reason, Mochi charges forward like he’s a freaking rodeo bull, ramming his fluffy little head into the back of Jimin’s knee as if there was an invisible bullseye there. Jimin’s eyes fly open the second he feels himself lose balance, and you totally would’ve laughed at the look on his face if you weren’t caught in his downward trajectory.

His hands shoot out to hold onto something, anything, but all they find is you. 

Then everything plays out in slow motion, just like it did the other night. Only this time, he’s falling with you too.

“Eek!” you squeal when your back hits the couch, and you have exactly 0.1 second of relief that you landed on a soft surface instead of the floor or the coffee table, before you feel Jimin’s whole weight on you. The force knocks the fucking wind out of you - not even in a good way - but then something stills. Your breath doesn’t return to where it’s supposed to be.

You catch his gaze, and neither of you makes a move to untangle from the other. 

The room goes silent, save for the light scuffing of Mochi’s paws on the floor, and the faint rhythmic drumming that you’re not entirely certain is coming from your own heart.

Jimin hovers right over you, some strands of his golden hair tickling your forehead, kissing your hairline. You unconsciously bite into your bottom lip, making his eyes dart down to stare at your mouth. His Adam's apple bobs slowly, hesitantly. 

He says your name, so impossibly quiet, half a warning, half a prayer. “Don’t do that,” he mumbles, then brings a hand up to tug at your chin, making you release your lip.

“Why?” you ask.

Jimin takes a beat, just to continue staring at your mouth. “Makes me wanna kiss you.”

Oh.

It’s your turn to gulp now. As you carefully watch his face, his brown eyes turn a few shades darker, until they almost look black.

You’re emboldened by the way his gaze focuses on your lips, by the absolute want that you see in his eyes. Your hands slide up his chest, momentarily pausing over his heart to feel the beats pick up, before they wind around his neck. He lets you pull him closer, and closer, until your chests are pressed together, your lips brushing. Close enough for him to hear your words even when they come out as a whisper.

“Why don’t you?”

#jimin x reader #jimin fluff #jimin smut #jimin angst #jimin x you #jimin fanfic #jimin imagines #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtantheatrenet #fic: canine conundrum

[romanoffsbish]

A Fools Errand

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Warnings: Vormir(But trust me, not the usual…), Death, Grief, Manipulation, Devastation. Ill Attempted Dark Humor

A/N: I apologize, but for April Fools I was challenged by my dear friend: @dirtyvulture to create a fic I normally wouldn’t, one that starts Fluffy, and ends Angsty. For the sake of plot, I won’t include the other challenges, and I do hope you enjoy this pain.

"Good morning beautiful.," the redhead smiled shyly before burying her face in the pillow to hide her blush., "Don't hide from me baby."

"I'm not hiding—I'm sleeping.," she whispered, then obnoxiously loud, faux snores followed her words causing you to laugh at her antics.

A knock on your door interrupted your peace, and Steve entered with his hand over his eyes, causing you to roll your own. "We're decent Rogers, what's up?," his hand dropped, and eyes full of hope met yours., "Tony's done."

———

"When are we going then?"

"He wants to send one of us on a test trip, and if they can bring something back he said he will be comfortable with us getting the stones."

Natasha's head peaked out of the blanket now, face unreadable as a million thoughts run through her, she was about to offer herself up, but Steve cut her off., "Clint offered to do it."

Steve left the room, and you took the moment alone with Natasha as a chance to cuddle, and though she was deep in thought she easily embraced you, soft breathes leaving her as her hand ran through your hair, detangling knots.

"How you feeling?," your voice was muffled, but she heard you., "Nervous, but excited."

"I understand that, I miss my family too."

Natasha hummed, too deep in her thoughts to delve into the depths of pain Thanos caused.

It's been five rough years for the both of you after he altered your life's entire trajectory's. Natasha was hysterical when you met her, you flew down to Earth with Carol after she got a call on a pager, and for some reason you ended up staying. Everyone you cared about on your planet had turned to dust, so you thought you might be able to help the people here since they came face to face with the genocidal tyrant.

What you never expected was to fall in love with the gorgeous redhead, she was guarded at first, but you slowly wore her down with your sunny disposition, and now here you lay, safe in her arms, well loved, and happier than ever.

“If you like, while they do the trial run, I’ll make us breakfast while you pose as my sous chef, but really just sit pretty on the counter.,” Natasha chuckled, the rumblings felt by you as you snuggled into her chest, proudly beaming at the happiness you were able to elicit here.

“Sounds delightful honey, I’m in.,” she lightly kissed your lips as she rolled you onto your back, then she slipped out of bed., “Coming?”

You smirked., “I could be.,” she scrunched her nose in faux disgust, and threw a pair of pants at you before leaving the room with a smirk of her own and tantalizing sway to her hips.

Natasha was patiently waiting for you on the counter, eating straight from the blueberry container, and her hips danced joyously as she saw you reaching for the waffle maker., “Yay.”

A soft chuckle left you at her excitement, and you made quick work of mixing the batter so you could continue to bring her said joy. Natasha watched you move around the kitchen, her stomach grumbling in clear anticipation, and just as you were about to pour the batter into the mold she shrieked., “Darling wait!”

The ladle in your hand nearly fell at the fright, but you managed to catch it just in time to prevent a splattered mess of batter, “What?”

Natasha jumped down from the counter, she waltzed right on over to you, kissing your lips rather passionately, catching you off guard, all while her deceptive hands poured a half bag of chocolate chips into your batter, she pulled away with an accomplished smirk.. “Done.”

She giggled as you gasped., “You monster.”

“I think you meant savior.,” she winked, then ladled a healthy portion of the batter into the mold for you before settling herself back in your hold as you both listened to the sizzling.

Natasha set the table up after a moment of snuggling, setting down the cutlery, and the various toppings like whipped cream and fruit. Then shortly after you waltzed on over with a bowl of scrambled eggs, plates with waffles, and bacon, and a container of maple syrup.

Breakfast was relatively silent, except for the moans of a grateful redhead, and the scraping of cutlery. Your minds were preoccupied with the mission of the day to bring half of the world back, and the pressure that came with that was daunting to say the least. So silence it was.

Until Clint came into the kitchen., “It worked!,” the two of you jumped to your fit with wide smiles, and within no time you were stood on the platform with the entire team of misfits.

—

Natasha was perplexed to find Clint parting ways, and leaving with Rhodey and Nebula, but with one smile from you she found herself not really caring., “Don’t do anything reckless old man, you’re on your last life.,” she teased her best friend who pulled her in for a hug, then playfully jabbed her in the ribs., “You say that, but I can still outrun you on the racetrack.”

“I let you win, don’t wanna bruise your ego.”

“Mhm, sure thing Romanoff.,” he smirks, then turns to you a bit more seriously., “Keep her safe for me, will ya?,” you nodded, and Nat grabbed your hand to silently express thanks.

The flight to Vormir was short, and sweet. The trek up the mountains not so much, you were chuckling as Natasha grumbled the whole way up., “Baby, it’s not that bad.,” she glared., “I bet you the stupid raccoon didn’t have to do this.”

Before you could reply though an odd looking cloaked figure emerged from the shadows.

“Natasha Romanoff, Daughter of Ivan.,” he looked to her, then to you., “Y/N Y/L/N, Daughter of Rio,” you both raise your weapons, but the figure remains completely unfazed.

“Who are you?”

“Consider me a guide. To you, and to all who seek the Soul Stone."

"Oh, good. You tell us where it is. Then we'll be on our way.,” Natasha grits, while her finger still hovers over the trigger of her pistol.

"Ah, liebchen. If only it were that easy.,” you both cringe at the unsavory hidden messaging.

“What you seek lies in front of you, as does what you fear.,” he relays with an air of mystery, you frown and watch as Natasha tries to decode it., “The stone is down there."

"For one of you. For the other... In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love.,” he pauses, for what you only assume to be dramatic effect. “An everlasting exchange.”

She stares at him stumped., “A soul, for a soul.”

Natasha looks to you, but instead of fear in your eyes she sees a wave of clarity., “No.,” she shakes her head., “D-did you already know?”

“Nebula suspected.,” you bow your head, hand scratching your neck, but you don’t have much time to live in your anxiety., “So after she told me I made sure that Steve let it be me instead.”

“What about this makes any sense to you?”

“Well, Clint has a family, and you would beat him in no time, and if I made too much of an uproar to have you booted then you would’ve been suspicious, so this made the most sense.”

“Who’s to say I won’t win now, hm?,” she spat, and you shrugged, but with a firm hand you pulled her into your chest, she was stiff for a moment before accepting the familiar embrace.

“It has to be me Y/N/N.,” she whispered into you., “You’re too good, it wouldn’t be fair to let you do this, your family is going to need you.”

“So is yours Natasha, mine will understand.”

“No…,” her forehead now leaned against yours as the two of you shared a silent moment., “This isn’t fair Y/N/N, please don’t do this.”

“I love you Natasha.,” she sniffled, then she slammed her lips to yours in lieu of words, you pressed back just as firmly, reveling in what would be the final kiss of your life., “It’s okay.”

Natasha‘s eye flew open as she understood, you smiled at her just as she heard rocks shifting. She hadn’t been thinking straight, she was two seconds away from using her widow bites on you, but she was too late, the you before her fizzled out just as the loud thudding of your body could be heard reverberating off the mountains, and she crumbled to her knees.

Red Skull peers down, seeing your corpse, he’s perplexed by the lack of whooshing bright light theatrics., "Normally that fall does the trick."

“Oh dear.," the reality of the situation dawns on him after seeing the look of despondency on the redhead., "You know if you were only using her, you should've said so before she leaped."

“I-I.,” she went to deny his words, because in the moment it didn’t feel like she was, but if she’s honest she knew it was the damn truth.

"Honey, that was fucked up, in all my eons I have never...," she glanced up at the man, with a look of disbelief., "You're a fucking Nazi."

"Yeah, fair point, but I've never made someone think I loved them when I didn't.," he said with an indifferent shrug., "The bones crunch was satisfactory, but your lying, not so much"

Natasha pressed the button on her suit, she knew it wouldn’t be any better back home, but she wasn’t about to listen to a fucking Nazi berating her over some misaligned morals.

“Natasha, where’s Y/N?,” Bruce ask’s instantly, everyone else’s cheering dies down, and a wave of uncertainty fills the entire room.

“Dead.,” she replied monotonously, eyes void of life themselves., “Sacrificed herself for a rock that came with conditions I failed to meet.”

“What conditions?,” Steve asked perplexed, and the redhead looked to him with a scowl., “In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. A soul for a soul.,” she repeats the floating figure’s ominous words, and the archer looks at her like she’s lost her mind.

"We have to go back, it had to have been a cosmic fluke then, how couldn’t you meet those conditions?," Clint despaired, looking down at his best friend who only looked to him with so much pain, and remorse in her eyes., "No."

"What do you mean no?"

"No Clint! It wasn’t some fluke, it was a mistake. Y/N vormoosed, and for what?"

"Because she loved you.," she grimaced., "Yeah, and she thought I loved her too, but I didn't."

“Natasha, that can’t be true.,” Tony spoke up., “You two were inseparable, and you clung to her like she was your lifeline; you’re crazy.”

“It was a lie I whispered in the dead of night because I was lonely, and she was there...," she admitted., "My heart could never be hers, it was always going to belong to another, and for that very damn reason I'll never get her back."

Everyone in the room froze at her brutal truth, they'd all grown to care for you over the last few years, and no one expected this of Nat.

"What about Y/N?" Clint asked bitterly, even if he hadn't known you for more than a week, he knew at the very least you were a good person., "She'll never get her life back Natasha, she gave it up in the hopes that you'll be okay, and all you care about is Wanda? The same woman who was in love with Vision as she dusted?”

"I-I.," she couldn't help how she felt, but to have the twisted truth thrown back at her only deepened the ache in her chest., "I didn't ask for this, if I could've loved Y/N, I would've!"

"You were so selfish, and now Y/N's family will never get to be back, and I'll never get mine.," Clint mercilessly berates the already breaking woman., "I guess it's true what they've all said: you can take the girl out of the Red Room, but the evil bred there still lies somewhere within."

"Thanks for nothing Natasha.," everyone filed out of the room, each with a look of confusion as they passed the woman they once viewed as family, but no longer recognized her as such.

Natasha took off in a sprint to the only place that has truly brought her comfort over the last five years—Wanda's room; it smelled faintly of roses, and the redhead sobbed as memories of the young witch encompassed her mind, then she picked up a more prominent scent as she fell into the dusty mattress—lilacs, and pine.

A sudden wave of nausea hits her as she sees a letter on the witches bed with your beautiful cursive handwriting on it addressed to Wanda. With shaking hands she rips the letter out.

"Take care of her for me please, I always knew our time together was fleeting, and that's ok.

She cared for me, I know she did, but she'll never be able look at me like the way she did whenever you were brought up in a simple conversation. I love her enough to let her go.

To love is to know sacrifice, and today I'll be taking Clint's place to make the biggest of all. Bringing you back to Natasha, Clint's family back to him, and allowing mine to return. There’s nothing more right then this decision, to die for the ones I love is a worthy choice.

I am sad I never got to meet you though, you seem rather lovely Wanda.

With all my best wishes— Y/N Y/L/N. <3”

"Oh God.," Natasha cries out, her stomach lurches and she rushes to the bathroom to throw up this morning's breakfast, the one she happily shared with you, smiling and laughing all the while imagining it was Wanda who was in your place., "What have I fucking done?"

When she closes her eyes she sees Yelena's half smirk, and her body starts to shake., "Moya mladshaya sestra, pozhaluysta, prosti menya."

(My little sister, please, forgive me)

Wanda's soft smile floods her mind next, and her heart shatters, tears slippin down her face., "Moya nastoyashchaya lyubov', prosti."

(My true love, I’m sorry)

After she blinks she only sobs harder, your bright smile takes the witches place, the same one that kept her from the edge of insanity for the last five years., "Oh Y/N, I am so sorry."

While staring aimlessly at the marble walls she wills herself to understand why the hell she couldn't have just loved you, you were so easy to be around, and you loved her so fiercely. Even if it was only a fraction of the way she felt for Wanda, if she just let that wall fall instead of pretending, then this mess wouldn't be.

Either she would've won the sacrificial game, or your death wouldn’t be in vain, because as she sits here she's not sure if she'll be able to go on knowing she let you die for her love, and left billions of people in a state of nothingness.

The rickety carousel that is life will keep turning for all who remain unblipped, but for Natasha, well, all she has is her gushing ledger and at this point it will never stop dripping.

——

2,582 Words

Natasha choosing Wanda over the R was another stipulation, and no Happy Ending.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader

[do-it-jakey-baby]

An Unlikely Encounter

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: explicit sexual content, cyberbullying (kinda?), smoking cigarettes, fear of abandonment, strong language

18+, MINORS DNI

TAGLIST: @torniturntomyarrow @ignite-my-fire @hollyco

A/N: A shorter chapter this time, hope you enjoy. Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! ☺️

Chapter 5

You wake up swaddled in a fluffy, white duvet cocoon in the middle of your hotel bed. As you begin to lift your arms to your face to rub the sleep from your eyes you notice how sore your limbs are.

Wow, Jake really did a number on me last night…

In the ambience of the quiet room you could hear the shower running, which was oddly comforting. The trajectory of yours and Jake’s relationship was confusing, there wasn’t a label affixed to your arrangement and you were just enjoying each other’s company, but you found such bliss in the mundane domesticated moments such as these. Listening to the faint sounds of Jake showering, the buzz of his electric toothbrush, the warm space beside you that was a reminder that you shared the same bed. The downside was that if you lingered on it for too long, the thoughts that you desperately tried to bury deep down and ignore began to surface. What was going to happen now that the European leg of the tour was ending? You both lived in separate continents, and with Jake being so busy with the band surely there wasn’t room for you in his life? You smack the heel of your hand to your forehead, as if the action would knock the narrative straight out of your brain. To distract yourself you pick your phone up from the bedside table and begin to scroll through your social media feeds.

You’ve been tagged in a photo on Instagram

Curious, you click on the notification and open up the post.

Jake Kiszka, juggling girls on his sprint across the world

Three photos were posted from an account called @exposingjake. One of you with Jake, his arm slung around your shoulder and smiling down at you. It was a shot that had been taken by someone outside of your party that you hadn’t seen before. The other two photos were of Jake with women you didn’t recognise. You frown at the screen before locking your phone and throwing it down onto the bed. Whoever was behind this account was clearly out to cause drama. You rake your hands through your hair, pulling it up into a messy ponytail and securing it with the hair tie you kept on your wrist. Moving from the bed, you find a pair of leggings and a hoodie from your suitcase and get dressed. You pull on your trusty converse and pick your phone back up off the bed.

Coffee?

Yeah, meet me down in the lobby in 10.

You write out a quick text to Jake to let him know where you are heading and proceeded down to the lobby. When you get there, Kat is sat waiting for you. As you get closer you realise she isn’t alone.

“Kat, Sam. Have fun last night?” You wink.

“Best night of my life.” Sam smirks, receiving a swift smack to the arm from Kat.

“Coffee, then?” She giggles, shooting you a look.

You find a cute little cafe situated just down the road from the hotel. You spot a small corner booth with an inviting, olive-coloured sofa curved round into an L-shape. You slide into the booth and pat the space next to you, smiling up at Kat.

“I’ll grab your coffees, what do you both want?” Sam asks.

“I’ll take an americano, she’ll have something ridiculously sweet and iced, with soya milk.” Cat smirks, raising her eyebrows at you as if to say I’m right aren’t I?

You nod at Sam and he saunters off towards the counter. As soon as he’s out of sight, Kat whips her head around to you and grabs your arms.

“Spill. What happened? I know you weren’t sick.”

You sigh, knowing that Kat would 100% catch you out in a lie, she knows your tells all too well. “He came and found me in the bathroom after that weird experience with Josh… he saw the whole thing and he was mad. We argued for a bit and he told me about his ex, which made me feel really guilty for trying to make him jealous. She tried it on with each brother and Danny, can you believe that?!” Kat’s eyes widen and she gestures for you to continue. “Someone wanted to use the bathroom, so we left and then he told you all I wasn’t feeling well. When we got back to the hotel he followed me into my room… and-” You pause, stifling a giggle and wiggling your eyebrows.

“Damnnnnn, she got LAID!” Kat cheers, way too loudly for the peaceful ambience of the quaint little cafe. Sam appears as if on cue, setting your drinks down onto the table in front of you.

“One americano and one… uh… I can’t remember what she called it, but she assured me it was sweet.” He laughs. “So, I hear you fucked my brother last night?”

You almost spit out the drink you’d just sipped from and begin to cough, sputtering as Kat hands you a napkin.

“Damn, that good huh?”

“Sam!” You choke, swatting at his leg. “What about you two then, hmm? I’m assuming you slept in the same room, seeing as I only invited Kat.”

Kat winks at you and presses her index finger to her lips.

You’re half way through your beverages and engaged deeply in conversation when you hear the soft sound of a bell chiming as the door to the cafe opens, and in walks Jake. You bristle ever so slightly in your seat, but enough for Kat to pick up on. Jake wanders over to your booth and sits himself down next to Sam, sliding his sunglasses off his face and placing them onto the table.

“Morning, early birds.”

“Morning Jake, sleep well?” Kat goads. Before he has chance to respond with a sassy remark, she grabs onto your wrist and pulls you from the booth. “Smoke break, be back in a hot sec.”

She steers you out the front of the cafe and sits herself down onto the al-fresco seating available. She pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her bag and places one between her lips, lighting it up and taking a deep inhale. She gestures to you, holding the packet out. You hastily snatch it from her and mirror her actions, holding your hand out for her lighter.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you haven’t taken a cigarette from me in years.”

“Yeah well, I needed one today.” You say in-between coughs as the nicotine goes straight to your head, making you feel fuzzy.

“What’s wrong? And don’t even bother trying to deflect, I know something is up.”

You look down, fidgeting slightly before taking another drag from the cigarette in between your fingers. You place the cigarette in the slot of the ashtray in front of you and pull your phone from your hoodie pocket, unlocking it and opening the Instagram post from earlier. You slide your phone across the table and Kat lifts it up to her face, then gasps.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“No idea, someone clearly trying to stir the pot.” You sigh, picking the cigarette back up.

“How do you feel about it?”

“I mean, I’m not bothered about the post itself. It just got me thinking, what the fuck am I doing? I’m in another country, over a thousand miles from home, with a famous rockstar who I barely know and I’m naive enough to think that this will end well for me. What happens when he goes back to the US?” You bring the cigarette to your mouth again.

“Have you spoken to him about it?”

“Well… no. What would I even say?”

“How about, hey Jake, am I just your European booty call or do you see this going somewhere?”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Oh yeah, great idea. That won’t go down like a lead balloon.”

“You don’t know how it will go down. Take some control for once, Y/N. You can’t just keep assuming and staying stuck in that head of yours.”

You roll your eyes again, but you know she’s right. By the way she’s looking at you, she knows it too. You sit there in silence for a while, both finishing your cigarettes and enjoying the sun warming your skin. The bell rings again and then the sun is gone, hidden behind Jake’s figure looming over you in your seat. He’s got a takeaway cup in his hand.

“Avoiding me are we, princess?”

Fuck, don’t call me that. You squirm in your seat and an irritatingly smug smile creeps onto his lips. He extends his free hand out to you.

“Come on, we’re going on an adventure.”

~

“Where are you taking me?” You giggle in the back seat of the taxi.

“Somewhere just as pretty as you. Me and the guys have been here before and I wanted to show you around.”

The journey wasn’t too long, before you knew it you were parked up outside wherever it was Jake was taking you. He uttered “Obrigado” and handed a note to the driver before exiting the vehicle and walking around to your side, opening the door for you. You were slightly embarrassed at how hot under the collar you’d gotten just from hearing him speak a very simple Portuguese word. As you stepped out onto the pavement, you observed a sign on the wall in front of you reading ‘Jardim Botanico de Lisboa’. Jake walked beside you as you entered the grounds and casually slipped his hand into yours, making your cheeks flush. You walked hand-in-hand until you reached a giant greenhouse, surrounded by lush greenery and a small pond in the centre.

“Jake, this is… beautiful.”

“Just like you. Come on, shall we go inside?”

The view was utterly breathtaking from inside the greenhouse, with tropical plants as far as the eye could see. You took every inch of it in, thoroughly enjoying the tranquility and embracing the one-on-one time with Jake. As you were busy studying the details of the exotic landscape before you, you hear the sound of a camera shutter. You whip your head around to see Jake standing with a camera in his hands, the biggest grin adorning his face.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, you just look so happy and I wanted to capture the moment. Now I have you facing me, why don’t you give me one of your pretty smiles.”

You look at the camera and give him a big toothy grin. Once he’s snapped the picture he walks up to you and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Do you want to get one together?”

You nod shyly and he extends the camera out in front of you. You smile and instead of facing forwards, Jake inches closer and kisses your cheek. The action makes your heart swell.

After your long walk around the gardens, you stop off at a small gelato parlour and share a cup. Jake lets you choose all three flavours, saying he’ll love whatever you pick. When you’re finished you head back to the hotel. The sun is beginning to set behind the clouds as your taxi pulls into the drop off area. Jake follows behind you into your room and plops himself down on the end of the bed.

“You should have just had me in with you, seeing as you’ve spent the majority of our time here in my room.” You chuckle.

“I didn’t want to assume that you wanted to stay with me, so I gave you the choice.”

“Well, thank you, that’s very considerate. But my choice would always be to stay with you.” You respond, sliding yourself onto his lap. “Thank you for today too, it was lovely.”

He tilts your chin down and his lips find yours, the kiss becoming more intense as you both hungrily lap at each other. He wraps his arms around you and falls backwards, pulling you on top of him. His arms snake underneath your hoodie and his hands smooth over the skin on your waist. The sensation elicits a soft moan from you into his mouth. As his hands begin to wander further, your phone lets off 4 notifications in short succession.

“You’re popular today.”

An unsettling queasiness forms in the pit of your stomach, as if your gut already knows what the notifications are. You sigh as you pull your phone from your hoodie pocket and confirm your own suspicions.

@exposingjake: Aww, bless her heart. She really thinks he’s interested in her.

Another unseen photo of you and Jake together flashes onto the screen. This time, other accounts in the comments are tagging you. You look through their profiles and realise that they are some of Connor’s friends.

Nasty fucking hoe!

That’s what she gets for cheating on my boy.

Hopefully he just drops her, give her a taste of her own medicine.

You try and fail to blink back the tears forming in your eyes. The room feels like it’s spinning furiously out of control as you drop your phone onto the bed, staring into the space that it filled. Jake grabs hold of your wrists, he’s speaking but you can’t hear him. The sound of your own heartbeat is thundering in your ears as Jake picks your phone up off the bed. After a few moments, he finds his own phone and disappears from your line of sight. It feels like hours have passed, but in reality it only takes a few minutes for Kat to come bounding into your room. Jake hands her your phone and her eyes widen momentarily, then fury paints her expression.

“Y/N, baby. Talk to me. What’s going on? Who is this?” Jake whispers, now at your side again.

You try to respond but instead the floodgates open, you sob and sob until there are no tears left in the world to cry. You sob as Jake and Kat both hold you, one on either side. You sob as Josh bursts into the room, hearing your wails from down the hall. You sob as he joins Kat and Jake, taking space behind you and curling into your back.

You aren’t sure what time it is when you wake, but it’s dark. As you find your bearings, you realise you’re in bed with Jake’s arms wrapped around you tightly. He looks so beautiful when he’s sleeping, his breath lightly tickling your forehead. You reach your hand out and cup his face, gently running your thumb across his cheekbone. You become painfully aware of an impending headache brewing, so you carefully manoeuvre from Jake’s arms without disturbing him and dig through your bag in search of some paracetamol. You find a bottle of water in the minibar and wash down the capsules, then your eyes happen upon a packet of Jake’s cigarettes and a lighter on the desk.

Another wouldn’t hurt right now.

Thankfully, your hotel room has a balcony, so you slip out into the cool evening air and light up, inhaling deeply. It’s a small moment of reprieve, but you’ll take all you can get at this point. You lean over the balcony, watching the traffic whizz past as the light breeze soothes your swollen face. After a few moments you hear the sliding door of the balcony squeaking open.

“Thought you’d run off with my cigarettes.”

You extend your hand to him, the cigarette carton open. He takes one and you flick the lighter, sparking up the end for him.

“Didn’t know you smoked.” He smirks.

“I don’t. Haven’t for around 10 years, but sometimes you just need one.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shrug.

“It’s not true, y’know. Those are old photos of me with fans.”

“They have a point though, Jake. I don’t know what the hell this is between us or what happens when you go back home.”

He quietly finishes the rest of his cigarette and walks over to you, taking your face in his hands.

“Y/N, you are everything to me. Do you know how much I thought about you after I left London? There’s not been a second that you haven’t been on my mind. Even when I’m playing on stage, I look out into the crowd and all I see is you at the front of the barricade.”

“But we live thousands of miles from each other, Jake. How is that going to work?” A tear rolls down your cheek again.

“Baby, please don’t cry. We’ll figure it out. I don’t want this to end… I want you to be mine.”

“You do?” The tears are falling harder now. Jake presses you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your back.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I am falling so fast and so hard. You’re so beautiful, inside and out. I, um… I actually started writing a song about you.”

“Is that what all those crumpled up pieces of paper were in your room?”

“You noticed those?” He chuckles, rubbing his palm across your back. “Yeah, I wanted to get my thoughts down onto paper but nothing quite captured how I feel, so I wrote the chords instead.”

“Will you play it for me?”

“Of course, angel. When it’s finished.”

You both stand there for a few moments, silently embracing. His hand stroking light circles onto your back is so comforting, you could almost fall asleep upright in his arms.

“I want to be yours too.”

He smiles against your forehead. “You want to be my girlfriend?”

“Is that you asking?”

“Yes.”

“Of course I do. But Jake, how-”

“Come home with me, to Nashville.”

You step back from him, your jaw dropping open. “What?”

“I’m not saying you have to uproot your life and move, but please just come back with me. Just for a bit?”

“Jake, I don’t have that kind of money. I’m unemployed, I was just about to start job searching.”

“I’ll take care of everything, please.”

“Can I at least think about it? I want to, like, so badly. But I need to talk to Kat, I’m supposed to be moving in with her.”

“Ok baby, think about it. But the offer doesn’t lapse, it’s an open invitation.”

~

The next day you roll out of bed early and make your way over to Kat’s hotel room. You knock on her door and are greeted by Sam, clad in the bathrobe that the hotel provides.

“Sam, is my best friend in there?”

“She is. Kat, you have a visitor.”

Kat pops her head under Sam’s arm and her expression changes to one of sadness.

“Baby girl, give me two seconds and I’ll be out.”

“Uhhh.. my room is kinda occupied.”

“Sam, can you leave us for a bit?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go find Danny and see what he’s up to.” Sam pats your head and offers you a small smile as he walks past you.

You sit yourself down on Kat’s bed and she joins you.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Whoever is behind that account is just a fucking clout chaser, Y/N. Please don’t pay them any mind.”

“I actually came here to talk about something else…”

“Oh?” Kat’s eyebrows raise.

“Jake and I talked last night, he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“Oh my fucking god! He told me he was going to ask you and I was wondering when he would actually find the balls!”

“What?! When?”

“He called me before we came out here… sorry, I couldn’t tell you. He made me promise.”

“You sneaky bitch!” You laugh, jabbing her ribs.

“Ok, so is that it?”

“No… he asked me to come back to Nashville with him for a while.”

“Shut the fuck up! What did you say?”

“I said I’d think about it. I’m supposed to be moving in with you.”

“Have a day off! Are you kidding, I’ll be fine. You have to go, Y/N!” She squeals, throwing her arms around you. “You deserve this, you deserve to finally be happy.”

You squeeze her tightly, rocking back and forth as you both giggle with excitement.

“Thank you so much, you’re the best friend a girl could ask for.”

“Just make sure you send me a postcard!”

You and Kat sit and talk cross-legged on her bed for a couple of hours, you tell her how much you’ll miss her and that you’ll message her every day. When you get back to your hotel room, Jake isn’t there. You can’t blame him, you left hours ago whilst he was still sleeping and didn’t give him any indication of where you were. You walk down the hall and knock on his door, but there’s no response. Sam’s room is situated opposite Jake’s, so you knock there next. No response. You sigh, pulling your phone from your jeans, but you’re cut off by the sound of laughter coming from further down the hall. You follow the sound, until you reach another door. You can hear the faint sounds of Danny’s voice, so you knock. Danny opens the door and smiles down at you.

“Hey, Danny. Any chance you’ve seen Jake today?”

He stands to the side, unveiling all 3 Kiszka brothers in fits of laughter.

“Having a party in here, boys?” You wink.

Josh leaps forwards, pulling you into a hug. “Now the party has started! Hello, Songbird.”

“Hey, Josh.” You giggle, ruffling his curls.

“I suppose you’re here to see my other half?”

Jake looks up and you nod. He stands from his seat on the sofa and follows you out of the room.

“Your room?” You ask.

“Yeah, sure.”

He presses the keycard to the reader on his door and motions for you to enter. As he walks in you grab his arms and send him hurtling backwards onto the bed. He chuckles as you climb on top of him, pressing kisses on every inch of his face.

“What’s this for?”

“Just wanted to show my boyfriend some appreciation.”

“Your boyfriend, hm? Is that your way of saying yes?”

“Thought I said yes last night.”

“Not definitively.” He retorts, snapping his teeth at you.

“Well, I couldn’t not call you my boyfriend when I’m travelling across the world for you.”

He sits up, lifting you up with him so you’re straddling his hips. His face is inches away from yours as he looks you dead in the eyes.

“You’re coming? To Nashville?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He grunts and presses his fingers into the meat of your hips, pulling you down onto him. You stifle a moan at the friction. You feel his heart rate pick up in his chest as he brings his lips to yours, kissing you passionately. His tongue laps over yours as he brings his hand forward to palm at your breast.

“Fuck me.” You breathe.

Within seconds he’s on top of you, pulling your t-shirt over your head and kissing a trail from your neck down to your navel. You shimmy out of your jeans and he begins to pull your thong to the side, kissing at the skin on your inner thigh, but you lift his chin up to stop him from making contact with your core.

“No, I want you inside of me.”

“Someone’s demanding today.” He smirks, dipping his fingers into the waistband of your thong and pulling them off. She stands to remove his own clothes and settles back on top of you. His fingers graze over your clit and you buck up into his hand.

“Jake, pleeease. Fuck me.” You whine.

“Patience, angel. I just wanna feel how wet you are first.”

He slips a finger into you and hums with satisfaction, then brings it to his lips and sucks on the digit.

“Like fucking honey.” He croons into your ear.

Using your hand, you line him up with your entrance and he pushes in, stretching you out with his length.

“Fuck.” You whine.

“How do you want it?”

“Hard. So fucking hard.”

His hands curl over your knees, pushing them back towards your chest. The thrusts into you and you yelp, the tip of his cock hitting against your cervix. The combination of pleasure and pain is intoxicating. As if your reaction is spurring him on, he begins snapping his hips into you hard and fast, each thrust eliciting soft moans from your lips. He brings a hand to your throat and squeezes, causing the blood to rush to your head. Your eyes roll back as you chant his name, the orgasm building quickly within the pit of your stomach. He curses loudly, sweat collecting at his hairline as he drives into you.

“You’re such a good fucking girl for me. So beautiful, taking me so well.”

His words push you over the edge, your walls fluttering around him.

“Jake, don’t stop! I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me angel, I’m there.” He breathes as his face contorts. As the dam shatters inside you, his hips sputter and his release mixes with yours. He fucks you through it until you float down from your high. He leans forward and captures you in a gentle kiss, the gesture saying a thousand unspoken words of adoration.

Once you’ve cleaned yourself up, you hear a knock at the door. You pull on Jake’s bathrobe and pad over, opening the door to see Kat standing there, beaming from ear to ear.

“Guess who’s coming to Nashville, baby!”

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake greta van fleet #jake lane #jacob thomas kiszka #greta van fic #jaket kiszka #jacob kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake gvf smut #jakedown #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jacob kiszka smut #jake kiszka x you

[scarisd3ad]

To the end and back | Daryl Dixon x reader

Chapter twenty four - is it over now?

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Warnings - normal twd, kidnapping, sacrificing a person

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

'When the dead comes knocking'

S3 ep7

We all slowly follow after Rick, getting close enough to the fence to catch a glimpse of who the person is. It was a woman with dark skin and brown locks that fell just around her breasts. She looked tough, tougher than I'd ever be. She had a large Katana strapped to her back and a small handheld grocery basket in her hand.

She has what appears to be blood smeared all over her torso and blood oozing out of a wound in her thigh. The woman brings her hand up and slams it against the fence as she grips the metal between her blood-soaked fingers. Carl passes his sister to Beth before he rushes over to his father. I see the woman wince before quickly bringing her hand down to grasp at her thigh. The walker standing next to her banging on the fence must've overheard her wince, so it pivoted its head slowly toward her before snarling. She steps back before grabbing her Katana and slashing right through the walker's head. She delivers a powerful kick to the walker's chest, sending it tumbling off her Katana and onto the ground.

"Should we help her!?" I hear Carl shout to his father as Rick walks towards the gate that leads out of the prison. The woman disappears behind a guard tower as a group of walkers follows her.

The only thing we can hear are the snarls and groans of the walkers and her grunts. She stumbles from behind the guard tower, the walkers still following her. She struggles a bit, her body woozily swaying back and forth before she falls to the ground with a loud yelp. I inhale sharply as the walkers close in on her. Carl tosses the keys that were in his hand to Rick. Rick unlocks the gate, and he and Carl run out, shooting walkers as Rick approaches the woman. Carl runs towards the red basket the woman had dropped earlier, and Hershel walks towards the gate, probably inferring that his medical assistance would be needed. Rick kneels beside the woman's limp body. "Is she bit?" Hershel shouts. Rick begins to search her body, lifting her shirt and checking each arm before concluding that she was not bitten. "Gunshot," Rick replies as Hershel starts to walk toward the two. Rick hoists her arm over his shoulder and carries her toward the prison.

-

Carl opens the doors to the prison, and we all follow him and his father inside. "Carl, get a blanket," Rick commands as Carl enters the prison. "Beth, water and a towel," Beth nods as we all file into the prison. "Here?" Carl asks as he lays down the blanket he had grabbed onto the ground. "she's not coming in the cell block," Rick says as he lays the woman down on the floor. "Go in the cell block. stay there." I tell Casey, my voice in a low whisper, as I let go of her hand. I didn't want her in here in case the woman was dangerous. Rick was just as cautious about her as I was. Hell, she had an entire Katana with her and could take out walkers while losing blood. She was an absolute badass, but we didn't know where she came from, who she was, or even how she found the prison and why she had baby formula in that grocery basket. Casey nods before scurrying off and out of my sight.

"Woah, woah, woah, steady," Rick says as he helps the woman onto the ground. Beth hands Rick a water bottle, and he quickly takes it and unscrews the lid before pouring the water onto the woman's chest. "shhhhh, it's alright, it's alright," Rick coos as she begins to breathe heavily. "Hey, hey look at me. Look at me." a look of confusion fills her face as she looks up at Rick, who is hovering over her. "Who are you?" she takes a sharp breath before not answering his question. She was probably dealing with a lot in her head right now to even know what Rick was talking about.

"Hey, it's alright. Hey. Hey," Rick whispers, trying to calm her down. But instead of calming down, she reaches for her Katana, which luckily is quickly kicked away by Rick. In an act of contradiction, he grabs her shoulder and forcefully pins her to the ground, stating, "We don't want to hurt you," despite clearly causing pain at that moment. But it was okay because it was self-defense; well, I could probably say the same thing for her. We're just as unknown to her as she is to us. We just brought her into this random ass prison, and for all I know, she could be thinking we were some maniacs who kidnap people and kill them. But it was definitely safer to keep the Katana away from her, at least for right now.

"Unless you try something stupid first. Alright?" Rick asks her, his voice low but also in a softer manner than he was when talking to the prisoners when they wanted to join our group. "Rick," I hear Daryl call out as I hear his heavy footsteps walking through the cell block and into the rec area. We all look back to see Daryl walking through the doorway. "Who the hell's this?" he asks as his face contorts into a confused expression. Rick turns to the woman. "You wanna tell us your name?" Rick asks as she props herself up with her arm. "You wanna tell us your name?" he repeats, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper.

It looked like she was about to say her name before Daryl cut through the silence, saying, "Y'all, come on in here." Rick rises to his feet as he says, "Everything alright?" his head turns a bit so he can see Daryl. "you're gonna wanna see this."

Rick turns back toward the group, "Go ahead, Carl, get the bag." Carl walks over and grabs the woman's bag that she had been carrying with her and the grocery basket as Beth and Hershel walk away. Rick lifts the woman's Katana, showing it to her. "we'll keep this safe and sound...The doors are all locked. You'll be safe here, and we can treat that." Rick says as I turn around and walk towards the door where Daryl is still standing. once I'm standing in front of him, I press my lips to his cheek. "What'd you find?" I whisper as I take his hand into mine, caressing the top of it. "Tell ya all in a secon'," he mutters. I let go of his hand and walked into the cell block. After Rick and Daryl slam the door shut and lock it behind them.

I didn't understand why she didn't just want to tell us her name; it could not only help her but us as well. If she told us her name and why she was here, we could at least trust her. Maybe even unlock that door and let her have her stuff back.

we all follow after Rick and Daryl, anticipating what Daryl will show us. Rick turns the corner into a cell to be met with Carol, all dirtied up but alive and well. He lets out a little gasp as she pushes herself up off of the bed and towards him. He wraps his arms around her in a tight hug. "Thank god, thank god," Rick repeats as he nuzzles his head into her neck. He lets go of Carol, letting her go on to the next person, Hershel, who limps towards her. "How?" he asks. It was a miracle that she had survived. We were sure she had been gone; all anyone had found of her was her scarf. We never did find a body, though, and Carol isn't the type of person to be taken out by walkers, not anymore.

"Solitary," she giggles as she wraps her arms around him. "Poor thing fought her way into a cell. Must've passed out. Dehydrated." Daryl says. Hershel lets go of Carol and moves out of the way, letting Beth step forward, showing the infant now cradled in her arms. "Oh," Carol gasped before shifting her attention back to Rick. Not wanting to relive the heartbreak, he hung his head low. Her eyes fill with tears as she grabs his face, whispering a quiet but heartbreaking "I'm sorry." My arms cross over my chest as if I'm trying to shield my heart from the absolute devastation everyone is reliving right now. I try to stay strong not only for myself but for the others around me, too.

I don't want to seem like a wimp, someone who can't get over things fast. You need to now. You can't stop to grieve. You have to move forward with life because if you don't, you're at risk. I didn't want to cry not again; I had only cried in that room and out in Daryl's arms afterward. I didn't need to cry again; I got it all out there. Didn't I? But tears form in my eyes before I can tell myself to stop. Stop, stay calm, stay strong. I am strong; it wasn't like she was my mom, but she was like my mom. She reminded me of her in every way that it felt like I had lost her again.

I didn't cry at first when the realization that my mother was probably dead hit, because I still had that little grain of hope that she was out there. surviving like I was. but now losing Lori made me realize that she was gone. it was like it hit all at once, not just Lori, and t, but Amy, Jack, Matt, Mom, Grandpa, and Grandma. Jim, Jaqui, Sophia, and Dale they were all gone.

Even Shane, although I had nothing but hatred for him in those last few weeks, I had spent months before that worshiping him as if he was a god. He was like a brother to me before he touched me. That's why it hit so hard. That's why I felt so betrayed. I had seen him as a brother when he had seen me as an object. He saw me as an object he could beat around when he was frustrated. An object he could touch whenever he desired and face zero consequences.

I had only really stopped to mourn Sophia and Dale none of the others, but now it's all hitting like a big yellow school bus. all the feelings I should have felt months ago are rushing in as more and more tears form in my eyes until they overflow and stream down my cheeks. I wipe at my cheeks and try to blink the tears away, but they just won't stop. they just keep coming. it's embarrassing, being so vulnerable in front of everyone. I have cried several times in front of all these people, but this is different. I've cried because I was hurt, or when I was talking about what Shane had done to me, but I've never cried this much. I'm crying so much that the attention is brought onto me which wasn't my intention. I expected to cry silently, but this wasn't it. "Oh, y/n" It's like in an instance Carol knows what happened and pushes through everyone to me before wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. "I fuck up" I whisper into her shoulder as her left hand rubs tiny comforting circles into my back.

-

Once I'm calmed down, I'm informed by Hershel that he wants me to help him patch the woman up, only if she wants us to, of course. I understood that under any other circumstance, he wouldn't need my help, but I think he knew I was cautious around everyone now, especially with the medical stuff. I refused almost everyone who asked me for help, almost immediately saying they should go to Hershel instead. It scared me that I might fuck up again, and he knew that.

Daryl, Hershel, Rick, and I walked into the rec area where we had locked the woman up. She was now sitting at one table with an angry scowl on her face. "We can tend to that wound for ya," Rick says as the metal door creaks open and then enviably slams back shut as we all file into the room. "Give ya a little food and water and then send ya on your way." She stares up at Rick as he speaks "But you're gonna have to tell us how you found us, and why you were carrying formula," he whispers. There was no way she could've known we had a baby who desperately needed that formula unless she came across someone who knew about the baby. She could've come across Andrea if she was even still alive, but Andrea wouldn't even know if Lori had the baby, let alone if it survived the 9 months at all. Glenn and Maggie were too cautious to even tell anyone where we were, let alone who was a part of our group. They knew better than to do that.

She finally breaks her silence by saying, "The supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy with a pretty girl." My heart drops instantly. Who would've made them drop all that formula? Why would they drop all that formula? "What happened?" Rick asks. Hershel stands up from where he was sitting and adds "Were they attacked?" the only reason they'd drop that formula is if another person attacked or forced them. "They were taken," the woman whispers. My heart drops again, right into my stomach. It seems like my thoughts are just racing with all different types of questions. Who took them? Where did they take them? Why did they take them? Were they still alive?

"Taken?! By who?!" I ask as I take a few steps forward toward the woman." by the same son of a bitch who shot me," she replies, her hand still clutched against her wound. The person who had taken them was dangerous. "Oh god," I murmur as I slapped my hand over my mouth. Tears stung in my eyes as I spun on my heels and began to walk out of the rec area. "Hey, hey where ya goin'?" I push the door open that leads outside as I whisper, "I-I need some air," as I gasp for air. It felt like my lungs were collapsing and my throat was closing up. My chest heaved as I placed one hand against it, trying to catch my breath.

How could this happen? Glenn and Maggie getting kidnapped was practically impossible. Both were amazing with speed and stamina; they were both great shots, but together they were invincible. But then again, Maggie is Glenn's greatest weakness. If anyone threatened her, he's complainant straight away. She was his girl and if you even dared to point a gun at her; he was doing anything to save her. He'd shoot himself in the head if it meant Maggie would be alright, he'd shoot himself in the head to make sure everyone was alright. That was just how Glenn was so selfless and brave. He'd throw himself in front of a moving train if it meant our group would be safe.

"Are ya alrigh'?" Daryl asks as he chases after me. Glenn had been taken, taken by a dangerous person who obviously meant to shoot that woman. What if they killed Glenn and Maggie? What if they killed the man? I had spent the last 13 or so months saying I couldn't live without. "He-he's gone," I cry out. I feel a hand press against my shoulder as I spin around so I'm facing Daryl. "We don' know that yet," he mutters. Yeah, we didn't know if he was gone yet, but he might as well be. He's with some unknown, dangerous person. We don't even know where this person took them. For all we know, they could be back in Atlanta by now. I look up at Daryl. My eyes are red and puffy now, tears still streaming down my face. I collapse into his arms, wrapping my arms around his torso. "I-I," he stutters out as he freezes up. Despite our relationship being more than 9 months long, I have only cried like this to him a handful of times. He still didn't know how to comfort anyone really; it wasn't his forte that was Glenn's job.

It wasn't that Daryl wasn't an amazing boyfriend, because he was. He was great. He just wasn't in tune with his own emotions, let alone mine. He barely showed two, maybe three, if we were lucky. Daryl kept everything locked up tight in a place where no one could see, and he only ever let what was locked inside out when not even a soul was present to hear or see. He felt as if those emotions were something to be ashamed of, and if we found out he had those emotions, we'd see him as lesser. As if he wasn't strong enough to be in power, to be second in command. Even if all those feelings were contrary to what we believed, it was something that had been burrowed so deep into his head from such a young age he had never known a time when he hadn't felt like that. He never knew anything different.

Feelings were for boys, not men, and he was a man, so why would he feel those feelings? Feelings that made him feel so vulnerable. Emotions that made him feel like a boy, a young child who needed their mother to cradle them and wipe their tears, and he didn't need that he didn't need someone to coddle him he wasn't a baby.

I only knew bits and pieces about Daryl's life before this. I knew his mother died; his father was abusive. Merle was in juvie a lot and Daryl had gone missing in the woods one time. I knew his father told him boys didn't need emotions and crying was for Sissy's he had told me once when we were on the road, just him and I.

We’d be alone just him and I out in the woods or scavenging for food and when I got bored I’d ask questions. I found out a lot about him that way. Like how I was his first back at the CDC, and that I was his first real girlfriend (despite being well over the age of thirty when we had first started our relationship) he had situationships with girls he had kissed or gotten handsy with but he had never gone all the way, not till me.

I'd cried like this to Glenn several times, at the quarry, the farm, and on the road. If I ever got too overwhelmed with anything in my life, I'd go to him, and he'd know what to do. But now he's not here and I don't know what to do.

-

Once I had dried up all my tears and became calm or calmer, I walked back into the prison. Daryl's hand splayed across my lower back as if he was escorting me back inside. I just had to keep repeating in my head that Glenn was alright, pretend he wasn't being held hostage, that he might not be dead or dying in the current moment.

I kneeled on the ground in front of the woman that we still didn't know the name of. I have a needle in a shaky hand as I sewed up her wound. Hershel softly murmurs, "Good job, yer doin' great." the woman gasps as I stab the needle back through her skin "I'm sorry I'm sorry" I mutter as I pull the needle through her skin and tighten the thread, so it pulled her skin together. Everyone else is in the cellblock talking about what we should do. The woman had volunteered to take us to the town where the man supposedly lived. Some people were hesitant because what if someone dies out there, but this is Glenn and Maggie we're talking about. We can't just leave them because we're scared of dying.

"I'm y/n, by the way," I say with a friendly smile tugging at my lips. Maybe if she knew our names, it would coerce her into telling us hers. "And this is Hershel," I say as I stab the needle back into her skin. She gasps again, which I immediately meet with a quiet "sorry again." Rick couldn't get anything but that she knew where the man took Glenn and Maggie out of her. not her name, age, or even where she had come from. We just had to assume that she might be from the place where Glenn and Maggie were taken. So, Rick decided to be cautious with her. If she was indeed from the town that took Glenn and Maggie, this could be some elaborate plan to get our toughest men out of the prison, so they can attack when only the women and children are left.

"And the two who helped you in are Rick and his son Carl." she nods slightly as she lets out another hiss-like groan. "And um, the man with the crossbow, he's my boyfriend, and the little girl that was with me, she's our...daughter." Saying Casey is our daughter was simpler than explaining that we basically adopted her due to her parents getting bitten. If you didn't have any prior knowledge about Daryl, Casey, or me, you would think she was our daughter. A nice happy family, a mother, father, and daughter.

I tie a knot in the thread before cutting the needle loose from her skin. "There you go," I say as I push myself back up onto my feet. "Thank you," she murmured as she sat up straight. At the same time as I stood up, Daryl walked back into the rec area, two bags slung over his back. He throws them down onto a table before he begins to rifle through the items inside. "Hey, Rick, decide if we're goin' to find that town?" I ask, walking over to him as I wipe the almost dried blood off my hands. "yup" he mutters as he pulls a few garments out of one of the bags. "Alright then, I'm going too." Daryl looks up, brows curling into a furrow before he shakes his head. Glenn was my best friend, and if Daryl thought I wasn't going to save him, he was stupid. "Nope, yer stayin' here. Ya need to stay with Case," he mutters. My hands press against my hips as my facial expression morphs into anger.

"Glenn's my best friend D. If you think I'm not going to be the first one going out there to save him, you're stupid," I say standing my ground, just because he was my boyfriend and so many years older than me doesn't mean he gets to boss me around. I understood that maybe he wanted to protect me and stay here to protect Casey, but Glenn has saved my life so many times that I think I owe this to him. I need to be there too, just in case he is dead or dying. I don't want to hear it from Rick or Daryl when they come back. I need to be able to say goodbye if he's really gone forever. He let out a disgruntled sigh as he muttered, "Fine," with an eye roll before he slung the two bags back over his shoulders.

-

"Hey, don't look so sad we're gonna be right back" I whisper as I pinch Casey's cheek lightly trying to coax a smile out of her. I'm kneeled in front of the young girl trying to make her understand why we had to leave again. but it just didn't quite process in her head correctly, in her head we were just leaving to leave, that us leaving was some fun activity but in fact, it was quite the opposite. "I heard Daryl say that Uncle Glenn and Aunt Maggie got taken, is that true?" she asks her head cocking to the side. I let out a sigh, I don't want her to know the true severity of this situation. I didn't want to frighten her let alone think that Glenn might die. "No honey he and Maggie...they just got stuck somewhere, and we need to help them alright?" she nods a little pout still present on her face. "Now..." I grab her hand "You're gonna stay here with Beth, Carl, and Carol kay?" she nods "And you're going to have such a fun time you won't even notice Daryl and I are gone" She nods again before she wraps her arms around my neck in a tight hug. "Please come back" she murmurs into the crook of my neck. I rub circles into her back before whispering "We will" She pulls away before shoving her pink finger towards my hand "Pinky promise?" I interlock mine with hers with a smile as I say, "I promise", we both press our lips to our thumbs before locking it.

I hand Casey off to Beth and it's probably the easiest it's ever been, most of the time she's holding on tightly to my leg with tears in her eyes, begging me not to go. but this time she skips off to Beth and Carl with no problem. I should be proud that she's letting go a bit, but it hurts because she doesn't need me as much anymore. I felt as if I had raised her like I gave birth to her. I felt like I'd known her, her whole life when in fact I didn't. I was only in a blip of her memories a tiny portion of millions and millions that lived in her tiny head. if I died right now she probably wouldn't even remember me once she got to her early teen years, I'd be a fuzzy face that she could barely recognize, a body with a blurry face she couldn't find the match to.

I sat in the back seat of the car while everyone else was outside bidding goodbyes and packing up the car. I could hear Daryl outside talking, his voice was muffled but I could still understand what he was saying. eventually after a few heartfelt goodbyes we all settle into the car and begin our drive to possibly our deaths.

-

We have to park and then walk the rest of the way towards the town because of the risk of getting caught. rick pulls off to the side of a long highway before parking the car. It was a bit of a risk parking our car on the side of the road for any survivors to see, but we had no other choice. I push the door open before stepping out onto the leaf-covered ground. "They have patrols. we're better off on foot" the woman who we know has learned is named Michonne says as she stumbles away from the car. "How far? nights comin'." Rick asks, hands shoving into his pockets as he too begins to walk away from the car. "it's a mile, maybe two," Michonne replies as Daryl opens up the trunk of the car and both he and Rick begin to unload it.

The walk is longer than expected a mile or two seems easy, but once you're halfway in your thighs and calves ache, and you regret all your life choices, it's a Hassel. I'm walking in the back behind Rick and Daryl while Michonne and Oscar lead the group. My hands shove into my coat pockets as I let out a soft sigh. Sometimes I felt left out when our group was in an odd number, especially when Glenn wasn't there with me. Rick and Daryl would always be leading the group talking, and if Maggie was there, she grouped with Carol or Beth if she tagged along, which always left Glenn and me. So, on days like this when Glenn wasn't present, I was the one lone wolf with no one to chat with. It wasn't as depressing as it seemed because sometimes it was nice to just shut up.

I can't say that I liked to sit with my emotions either, though. Because, with no one to distract me, my thoughts are running a mile a minute. Thinking about every possible situation we could find Glenn and Maggie in. "I know what you did for me, for my baby while I was...working things out. Thank you," Rick's words were hushed as he said them not in an exact whisper, but close enough that I knew he didn't want anyone but Daryl to hear them. "It's what we do." Daryl simply replies. we're family. We stepped up when anyone else was in need. Daryl knew Rick's children needed someone to look after them while he was recovering from the loss of his wife, so Daryl stepped up. He treated both Carl and the newly named Judith as if they were his own, and that was what we did. I've done it, Rick's done it, we've all done it.

Everything is silent for a good few seconds before it's rudely interrupted by the loud groans of a walker. Daryl crouches down as he whispers, "Rick. "Rick is immediately crouched down as he whispers "Down!" everyone stops as we crouch down. We're peaking through overgrown grass and weeds when we see an entire group of walkers stumble into our view. Fuck. "Get in formation. No gunfire," Rick orders. we all take out our silent weapons before we begin taking down walkers. we're only a few walkers in when Daryl whispers "There's too many of'em". There are at least 50, maybe more. This would be easy for our group if we had everyone, but there are only 5 of us. There are only so many we can take down at a time.

Rick leads us away from the walkers and towards a small cabin in the woods. It looked like it had been abandoned far before the apocalypse. With weeds growing into the structure and wooden boards covering the doors and windows. The door is surprisingly unlocked, so we walk right in. It's creepily dark inside once the door is closed. Too dark to see if anyone or anything was lurking inside. "Keep it down, keep it down," Rick whisper-shouts as he crouches down on the floor. The first distinct observation I make is the absolute pungent smell that lingered inside. It wasn't anything I hadn't smelled before, but the smell of death always hits like a truck at first. "The smell, it's loud," Daryl mutters as he covers his nose and mouth with his hand. Daryl begins to make his way through the cabin searching for where the smell was exactly coming from. "What the hell is that?" asks Oscar. I guess the smell is unfamiliar to Oscar unless he had seen or smelled a dead body before he was locked up. We'd smelled the dead for months, so it wasn't totally nauseating anymore. yeah, it was disgusting and made me feel like puking, but I didn't actually puke anymore.

"it's got to be a fox or wha's left of one." Rick flashes his flashlight over something I wish I'd never seen. I medium-sized matt of fur with a collar around its neck. It must have starved to death, which was the best way for it to die. I'd rather see an uneaten dead dog than one that had been chewed through. "Guess lassie wen' home," Daryl mutters nonchalantly before he walks away. Things like this didn't hurt Daryl as much as it did me. Seeing a dead dog will always ruin my day, but Daryl not so much. The sound of pounding makes us all stop for a second and turn towards the door. I could see the door trying to break off its hinges. It wasn't going to stay for much longer. We had to find a way out of here fast.

Rick whistles quietly, getting Daryl's attention before motioning toward a bed that was in front of us. There was a human-sized lump in the covers. I just hoped that the body was taken care of before we had gotten here. Rick's hand hovers over the covers before he quickly rips them off the bed, uncovering a man who jumps up out of his sleep, wide-eyed and confused.

"Ah! Who the hell are you?" the man screams as his eyes flick between each of us. "We don't mean any harm," Rick says as he points his manchette at the man. "Get out of my house!" the man shouts, an equal amount of fear and confusion on his face. "Okay, okay, okay. We will, but we can't right now," Rick whispers as he backs away from the man. "NOW!" the walkers outside of the door get more persistent with how loud the man is getting. "Shut him up" Michonne hisses.

"Get out! Right now!" the man shouts again. "There are walkers outside!" the man's face contorted with confusion as if he didn't know what walkers were. "I-I'll call the cops!" calling the cops was a threat I hadn't heard in what felt like years, a threat a person who lived in the old world would use, not now. I'll shoot you, kill you, throw you out to the walkers, all very acceptable threats, but calling the cops is outdated now. "I am a cop...now I need you to lower the gun," Rick says as he lowers it to the ground. "don't do anything rash," Rick drops his machete to the ground before standing back up. "Now let's just take this nice and slow, look at me." the man's eyes quickly flick back to Rick's before he cocks his rifle. "Show me your badge" he demands. Rick quickly puts his hands up before saying, "Alright. it's in my pocket, it's in my pocket" he slowly begins to reach down towards his pockets "Now, I'm just gonna reach down nice'n'slow." Rick explains. the man nods before Rick quickly swings, trying to knock the gun out of his hands. The man shoots. luckily Rick is quick to move out of the way, sending the bullet right through a door. rick lungs forward, grabbing the man.

"Let go of me! I'll kill you! Let go of me!" he cries. Rick's arms are placed against the man's mouth as he hisses, "Shut up!" the man is quick to bite down on Rick's hands, sending Rick hurling backwards letting the man go. "Ah! help they found me!" the man cries as he sprints away from Rick and towards the door with walks pounding at it. "don't open that door!" Rick warns as Michonne pulls out her Katana and chases after the man. Right as the man tries to open the door, Michonne's Katana plunges right into his back and out of his chest. The man yelps out in pain as he falls back onto the ground with a loud thud.

Daryl quickly walks over to the door peeking through the wooden slats. "Remember the Alamo?" Daryl asks as he turns back towards us. It seems like the same idea races through Rick's mind. "Help me with the door."

Oscar is hesitant as he grimaces and mutters, "You got to be kidding me." Rick is crouched down by the man's body as he says "he's dead. Check the back" Rick had said we don't kill the living several times, but maybe this was the one exception. If Michonne hadn't stabbed him, we'd all be dead. And there's no pulse, so we can use his body as a distraction without feeling horrible.

Daryl and Rick lift the body as Oscar runs to check the back door for walkers. "it's clear." Daryl and Rick lift the man before Rick begins to count down. "One, two, three," then they shove his body outside and close the door as quickly as possible. Daryl locks the door before we race out the back.

I can't say that once I hear the sounds of the walkers munching on that man's body, I don't feel bad because I do. He was confused and scared. He was just trying to protect himself. It seemed like he had no idea that the world ended. There was no way that man had slept through the world ending, had he?

Taglist

@rivversin @soul4death @furiousheartpoetry @silicone-bonez @nezukos-number1fan @your-shifting-gurl @maziejay08 @oi-itse @rhaenryawhore @kimbunnysstuff @blipblopper @ramielll @ilyhannah @daryldixonnn @delicatebearpandaopera @crypticmushroom @daryldixmedown @duckybird101

#fanfics #x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x fem!reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x f!reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #twd x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead season 3 #Glenn Rhee #glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee x fem!reader #glenn rhee x maggie greene #rick grimes #carl grimes #judith grimes

[2demon2slayer]

blood and dirt (WIP)

this is a snippet from a WIP that i probably won't ever finish because i didn't really know what to do with it. the premise is that tanjirou sorta kinda went missing on a mission and giyuu and shinobu get sent to go find him. it was just kinda gonna be a vaguely whumpy oneshot but i never really had enough inspiration to finish it

(…)

“w-wait, wait, wait!” the demon shrieks, “you can't kill me!”

“oh?” shinobu asks, leaning forward, “and why is that?”

“i- i- the- the boy! you came here looking f-for him, right? but you still haven't found him!”

shinobu pauses, and this time it's less deliberate. the demon latches onto her hesitation.

“if you're not quick in finding him, he might perish underneath your noses! or,” the demon cracks a smile, “maybe he’s already bled out by now.”

with a flick of her wrist, shinobu presses a dagger that had been hidden in her sleeve against the monster’s throat. it makes a sound akin to a teapot whistle and tries to shrink away.

“for your sake, you’d better hope that’s not the case.” there’s a sickly sweet smile on her face, hiding the rage underneath. if she didn’t find tanjirou or, gods forbid, if she didn’t find him alive…

well, death would be the last thing this demon would be fearing.

“well?” shinobu prompted. “why don’t you tell me where he is?”

the demon spluttered.

“i-i’m not going to just-! y-you have to give me something first!”

“i’m giving you your life! isn’t that enough?”

“a-as if the word of a d-demon slayer would mean anything to me. no, you- you’ve got to show me that you won’t kill me!”

shinobu makes a show of humming thoughtfully, briefly pressing her knife down a little bit harder, just enough for the sharp edge to break the demon’s skin. at the first bead of red-black blood, shinobu pulls the blade away and goes as far as to step entirely off of the demon. it scrambles backwards and pushes itself to its feet.

the demon pauses, a clawed hand coming up to touch at the already healed cut on its throat. then it stands to its full height and smirks down at shinobu. “see?” it says. “now, that’s trust.”

and then the demon bolts into the woods.

shinobu sighs, tucking the knife in her hand back into the pocket in her sleeve. she readies herself to chase after the demon, but a hand on her shoulder stops her. she looks back at tomioka, giving him a soft smile.

“now isn’t the time to be hesitating, tomioka,” shinobu says in a soft tone. tomioka hums quietly in response.

“it’s going to swerve in tanjirou’s direction when it realizes we aren’t chasing it,” tomioka explains. shinobu blinks. oh. that’s clever. sure enough, she can sense the moment the demon switches directions. then tomioka removes his hand. “you follow its trajectory. i’ll take care of it.”

“ah, there’s no need for that, tomioka!” shinobu says, “it’ll get knocked out by the poison soon enough!”

tomioka glances down at the hand she’d held the knife in and then turns away.

“to tanjirou then.”

#kny #demon slayer #scribings #kochou shinobu #tomioka giyuu #they are co-parents your honor #i don't have a lot of stuff to post right now #so you guys get this

[blushstories]

Okay, ready. This may sound bizarre, but would you write a Butcher x reader au where soulmates are a thing?? The main trope for soulmate au's that comes to mind, for me at least, is everything is black and white until they meet their soulmate. So for the reader her world would be b&w until she meets Butcher. Since B has been married and Becca is dead now his would would go back to b&w. I think he'd be thrown for a huge loop when he meets the reader and his world is back to color. Is this too weird??

oooo this is so interesting to me, i hope you don't mind that i went for a little soulmate au scavenge to find something totally awesome and here is what became of it :] i really it's okay, thrown for a loop is certainly how id say he'd react

soulmate au: a touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint there (like a different coloured area on your skin, or a symbol, or name) 

Maybe The Boys should stop fiddling with dynamite.

Hearing some variation of, "It's gonna blow!" sling through the air one more time might just be your breaking point. The gravel pokes at your face and scratches at your palms as you dive for cover. You push your hands against your ears just as the earth rolls with the vibrations of the explosion.

You hadn't even been there more than two days.

As it detonates, someone slips into their dive behind you, crashing into your left arm and almost knocking you off balance. Butcher lies next to you, mirroring your position with narrowed eyes as stray pebbles spray over his head, trajectory blocked by the small half wall you're using for cover.

The sound eventually dissipates, and you hear a celebratory hooting from one of the others. Instead of exhilaration, though, all you feel is exhaustion, dropping your forehead onto the backs of your hands in front of you.

"Look lively," Butcher says next to you, an excited grin taunting his face. "Drinks on me tonight," he says. Now the evidence of killing a low-level supe has disappeared, everyone has a lump of free time this evening.

The gravel scatters as he brings his feet up to stand, extending a hand to help you up, because he knows that being on a rooftop makes your knees weak.

You take it, watching your feet carefully as you stand so you don't stumble, gripping his warm hand tightly. Just before you look up, his grip weakens.

When your attention returns, you can see why: glowing streaks of yellow circle underneath the surface of your skin, gently and magically, before dissipating. Afterwards, your skin seems to glitter under the light, and your jaw slackens.

Butcher's is still suspended in mid air as you rotate yours, words ripped right out of this throat as he doesn't move his eyes from the residual glitter. You pull up your sleeve to where he crashed into it before, and while it's fainter, your forearm still glitters.

Something inside you cracks. Even though you didn't know Becca very well, the wealth of a history she had with Butcher isn't anything you can match. So, you aren't surprised when his nostrils flare and he takes off, disappearing down the stairs with nothing more than the echo of his footsteps.

The rest of the group watch you, a little confused and a little sympathetic: you've never had a soulmate before, and when you finally find one, he openly rejects you.

You pull your sleeve over your hand and follow silently in Butcher's footsteps.

-

Back safe underground, the atmosphere is different. While before you'd begun to feel some acceptance from the group, now you're struggling to make eye contact with anyone. In the next room, Butcher nurses a glass of whiskey that he keeps drinking, yet it never seems to empty.

The edge of the sofa is both comfortable and torturous, and the restlessness you feel appears in your bouncing leg. Next to you, Frenchie kisses his teeth, grabbing your attention. When you look, the back of his hand faces you and he beckons you to lean in by waving two fingers.

"Don't worry, Butcher is just... thinking." You hum with uncertainty. "Look at him," he says quietly, gesturing to the hunched shoulders of the man in question. "Lots of thoughts to sift through, no?" "Because of Becca, right?"

He nods. "It's just a shock, for him. He thought he'd be lonely the rest of his life. Give him a minute." He stands up, patting your shoulder and slipping out of your vision.

Maybe it'd take time, but in a life like this, Butcher knows not to turn away happiness when it's knocking at the door.

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #the boys #the boys tv #the boys fanfiction #x reader #karl urban characters #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x y/n #william butcher #the boys x reader #billy butcher fanfiction #william butcher fanfiction #william butcher x you #butcher the boys

[ereborne]

Book asks: 3, 4, 11 please :D

3: What's something you read recently and wanted to argue with (either with the book or the author or the fans)?

I won't name names, but okay--so there's a project I'm working on for a friend of mine, where he sends me books and I read them and tell him what genre they fall into, if they're more magical realism or urban fantasy or paranormal romance or what. And that means that occasionally, I get an email that opens with "you won't enjoy this one, but". And let me tell you, when he says that. He's Right. I read this fucking book. This godforsaken novel. Dystopian future, incredibly generic heroman MC and his incredibly generic love-interest-only lady and their incredibly tertiary comic-relief best friend are the only people left who can perceive magic, comic relief friend dies early in the story and we are left absolutely humorless, can we restore magic (and by magic we mean human connection and emotion and also the literal ability to throw fireballs) to this soulless corporate nothingland, will our struggles ever matter, will we persevere. And I persevered! I trudged through this concrete-colored dystopia for pages and pages. I dragged myself bodily through this entire miserable experience in pursuit of that ages-old question, if the magic is governed by technology do we deem it a scifi or fantasy novel. The magic was all gathered into one object through a ritual by a coven (fantasy) but the object is essentially a PalmPilot (scifi) and you use it to make wishes (fantasy) but before they're granted you have to read through a terms and conditions and waive your rights to complain (scifi). You'd think this could be a fun thought experiment, or at least a neat concept to evaluate. No. If the monkey's paw ran on a macOS, it would still not be as convolutedly dickish as this thing. But being a shit story makes it something I want to throw out the window, not necessarily something I want to argue with. Being genre-non-compliant makes it something I might want to debate, except for how I very much just threw it back at my friend with a final label of "however your system lists A Wrinkle In Time". But no, what I'd like to speak words with the author over is: None of it mattered. So much searching for human connection and emotion, and the love interest has a reclusive richboy cousin who's kind of smug and offputting but she loves him anyway, he's her last remaining family member, towards the end of the book it looks like maybe they can put a spell together, they just need a third person to make a coven, let's go recruit the cousin! Family magic! Legacy! Emotional payoff! We're fools. No emotional payoff allowed in this mageless wasteland. Cousin has had the Monkey's PawPilot the entire time and has been wishing the world onto an ever-shittier trajectory in exchange for, I shit you not, tax breaks. And we fix this by killing him (this is an emotionless practical decision on MC's part, even Love Interest doesn't cry) and taking the PawPilot and wishing to go back in time not to prevent the condensing of all magic into an evil Apple device but instead just to keep it out of the shitty cousin's hands. Because obviously it's better off in the hands of its original owners, The US Government. And, crap cherry on this shit sundae, knock-on effects of this timeline divergence will keep the MC and Love Interest from ever meeting. So yeah, I'd argue with that author. I'd fight him in a gravel lot. Who does that good a job equating magic with human connection with emotion with color with prosperity, and then resolves the story by turning all of the above into a WMD for the Fucking Feds? I'm gonna feed him his own knucklebones.

4: What are your top 3 comfort reads? 11: What's a book you've recently re-read?

Oh man, I got so mad. Sorry about that. Comfort reads it is! And actually these are the same answers, because I've been rereading my favorite comfort books all week, because my mom's been in my house. She's gone now, but the books are still out on my bedside table. These are the ones I reread most recently out of the lot, and are the literal top three* of the comfort book stack:

Agnes and the Hitman by Jennifer Crusie

The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley

Sorcery & Cecilia or: The Enchanted Chocolate Pot by Patricia C Wrede

*This is without counting Silver Borne by Patricia Briggs, which is a very good book and part of one of my favorite serieses, but is really only in the stack, and in fact always on top, because every time I walk by I pick it up again, and the book falls naturally open to a line I read and reread like a mental touchstone: "Pack is for comfort when you hurt."

#asks #zahnie #thank you for the asks I'm sorry this answer is really just a huge long rant with a bulleted list appended #I promise they're very good comfort reads

[thegodovereverything]

TMNTober 2023

Prompt: Bones

“YOU ARE MY FIRE, MY ONE DESIRE!” 

Raph held one of Donnie’s old bo staffs up like a microphone. He had on the headphones that Mikey tended to hoard and was blasting his ears with the sweet sweet melodies of the Backstreet Boys. 

Leo was off with Donnie and Mikey at the junkyard and Master Splinter said he was going to visit April. That all meant that Raph could really let loose.

He jumped up onto the bridge rails, leaning forward for a dramatic yelling singing of the chorus.

“I NEVVA WANNA HEAR YA SAY: I WANNIT THAT WAY!” 

Leaning onto the balls of his feet, he strummed an invisible guitar as he headbanged to the beat. His headphones slid forwards with every nod of his head, falling off around "Believe me when I say", unable to stay steady on his head from such movement. Reacting quickly, he propped Donnie’s bo behind the railing, lunging forward to catch the loose headphones. His fingertips brushed them, only knocking off their trajectory to be farther from Raph.

He watched in horror as the headphones approached the gurgling stream. Then the cord tightened, stopping them right above the water.

Sighing in relief, he brought up the headphones by the cord and placed them back on his head. He didn’t miss much of the song.

He released the bo to restart I Want it That Way. It tumbled towards the water without his hand to support it, pulling the cord tightly wrapped around the tip with it. The sudden tension caused him to lose his balance. Desperately, he tried to course correct, but he couldn’t avoid the inevitable. Raph fell.

His wrist slammed into the railing, making him release his grip on the cassette player with a gasp of pain. His body created a great explosion of water, soaking Raph and half of the room. His wrist throbbed painfully.

He took a bit to process what happened then accessed the damage. The headphones and cassette player were damaged beyond repair. The whole floor was soaked. His wrist hurt. It was bent sideways and no matter how much he tried he couldn't straighten it without imaginable pain.

Eh, he’s sure it’s fine. He’ll just wait for Don or Leo to get home and have them take a look at it. Right now, he has some cleaning to do. He was sure he could do it one-handed.

@tmntober-2023

Here's the ao3

#words exist #tmntober2023 #I don't know how i feel about it but it exists #this is my first time writing 03

[drewoclock]

Forget Fame

Originally published April 24th, 2014

Let’s say I do a bit of stand-up comedy and have it recorded.  It’s about ice cream, and here’s one of the big punchlines:

"I went to Wal-Mart the other day and told myself, promised myself, that I’d use all the willpower I could muster to not getting anything I didn’t need.  And I walked out with a tub of ice cream.”

Maybe you think that’s funny.  Maybe you think that isn’t funny.  Remember that opinion.  

Now I take that bit of stand-up and throw it on the Internet, just because whatever.  And suddenly, within a week, it EXPLODES.  EVERYBODY is watching this thing and sharing it.  There’s a whole bunch of people commenting on the video saying how funny I am, and it’s being shared on news blogs… It’s insane!  So insane that I’m actually brought onto Conan to perform it.  So—what do you think of my joke now?  

You may think it’s great.  The more people that like something, the better it is.  It’s simple math.  But let me lay it out in a better way.  I bake a cake and feed it to ten people.  Nine out of the ten people I fed the cake to like it.  My cake can be considered liked by 90% of the people who ate it.  Now, I bake an ENORMOUS cake and feed it to one million people.  Nine hundred thousand out of the one million people like it.  That’s still 90%.  More people have eaten the cake, but mathematically, that doesn’t make the cake any better.

The fact is, something can be good without being popular.  Not every great thing has a trajectory toward stardom.  And similarly, not every thing with a trajectory toward stardom is great.  Let’s think about the people who didn’t like the cake.  If more people liked the cake than didn’t, does that make the cake good?  It would seem that the answer would be “yes” but, in fact, the answer does not depend on math at all.  It depends on you.

YOU decide what is and isn’t good, not the people around you.  Here’s why: You are programmed to like whatever you like, and when you are programmed this way, no one else is considered.  You were not brought into the universe with the expectation that you would be like everyone else, but with the expectation that you would be you.

Let me bring in an extreme example that’s rather popular: Being a Nazi used to be popular.  Does that mean it’s good?  And let me knock you for a loop here: Being a Nazi is currently vastly unpopular.  Does that mean it’s bad?  It’s up to YOU.

Think of a famous person.  Anyone.  Why are they famous?  Very likely, you’ve selected somebody in the entertainment business.  Here’s the thing about the entertainment business: They can do their job through television, touring, radio, what have you.  The nature of their business allows them vast distribution and therefore, a lot of people can know about them.

Now let’s think about a doctor.  For doctors to do what they do, they have to see people in person.  Putting a doctor on television or in a concert isn’t going to give you that surgery.  The nature of the doctor business doesn’t lend itself to being distributed all over the world, and so, they aren’t as famous.  Is it fair to celebrate an entertainer more than a doctor just because they happen to work in a field where they’re distributed more?  We can’t get rid of that imbalance, but we can consider it.

Still, some people dream of fame.  They don’t just dream of money, but they dream of having countless people adore them.  And you know what?  That’s fine.  It’s fine to want a group of people who like you.  But let’s do a little experiment.  How long was ten seconds ago?  You can probably guess that.  What about one hundred seconds ago?  More challenging, right?  Now how about one thousand seconds ago?  Or one million seconds ago?  We’re human, and we reach a point where a number is so big that we struggle to comprehend its scope.  So if you can’t comprehend when it was one million seconds ago, maybe you don’t need one million fans.

Let’s go back to my ice cream story.  After seeing me on Conan, you decide to look me up, and you stumble upon a piece of writing I did.  You read it.  It doesn’t appear that many people have seen it.  It hasn’t been shared much, and it certainly hasn’t been on television.  So, what should you think of it?

It’s up to you.

[babyybitchhh]

I’m relatively sure none of my followers will care but what is Tumblr for if not screaming into the void? Anyway, I impulsively started watching the OG Dragon Ball series back in August and I have been pleasantly surprised at how good it actually is. I don’t know what exactly I expected from THE biggest name in the anime industry worldwide but I have been consistently surprised by not only its overall charm but also the quality of the animation.

Considering it started airing in 1986, and I’ve seen plenty of other titles from this time period, I was a little caught off guard by how fluid and lively it can be at times, and with some regularity at that. Overall, it’s been a really good watch so far and I’m glad I chose this for my next long haul anime. For whatever reason, I have a habit of immersing myself in long running titles when I’m feeling some type of way and believe it or not it actually does help me reorient myself though I can’t exactly explain why. 😅

I have no idea what I’m gonna’ do with myself when I eventually exhaust all my available options at some point in the future but we’ll just cross that bridge when we get there lmao

But to get to the main point, you know I can’t watch something with a bunch of buff dudes beating the shit out of each other without developing A Thirst for a few of them, and I actually went into this with a certain amount of curiosity regarding Vegeta. He was the first anime character I consciously daydreamed about in a self insert kind of way (innocently, mind you, because I was like 7 or 8 at the time lmao) and I’ve been eager to find out if he still gives me the doki doki’s and in what way since I’ll be looking at him through the eyes of an adult now.

Unfortunately, I have to get through almost 200 episodes before I can meet him again. 😂 But I’ll circle back around to that here in a sec.

Working my way through the first few arcs, I unexpectedly found myself really quite taken by Yamcha which is not an interest I can say I had beforehand. His himbo behavior is admittedly quite appealing to me and while I wouldn’t say I’m head over heels, I do like him quite a bit. I’m well aware of all the jokes surrounding him but I didn’t watch DBZ religiously enough when it was on Toonami* to really understand why he has the reputation he does so as of this moment all I’m seeing is a good boy doing his best in these streets. The fact he cut his hair entirely at Bulma’s request just to make her happy assures me his heart is in the right place and I appreciate him for that.

*I want to make it clear that I was a very casual viewer back in the day. The arc I was most up to date with at any given point was the Namek saga so I’m going into this more or less blind. I remember catching bits of the fight with Raditz and I distinctly recall Vegeta and Nappa landing on earth (and all the warm fuzzy feelings I got every time Vegeta said or did anything lmao) but my experience with them was very incomplete. Likewise, I only caught bits and pieces of the Buu and Cell arcs but as it just so happened Cartoon Network was airing the Namek saga at like three or four in the morning during one of my summer breaks from school so I would say I got to watch probably 70% of it in it’s entirety. Which definitely helped my crush on Vegeta 😂

But anywho, Yamcha is currently the only valid thirst option where I’m at and he seems to have already been relegated to a background character so I don’t have a whole lot going on in that regard. I will say, however, that I am absolutely obsessed with baby Goku. 😭 He’s so cute I almost don’t know what to do with myself. Just last night I watched the episode where they had to escape from an undersea cave that was actively collapsing and he stopped to look for a mouse he’d seen so he could save its life and I just … I’ve only had baby Goku for about three months now but if anything were to happen to him I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself. Such a good boy.

Back to the topic of thirst though … 👀 I just happened to see a thread on /a/ the other day talking about how Vegeta’s character has changed so much between his debut and now, and seeing those screenshots of how he looked in the Saiyan and Namek arcs really flipped a switch in my brain. People rarely seem to focus on that time period of the storyline in favor of more recent events (understandable, considering how old they are and the fact they’ve probably been discussed to the point of nausea already) but my interest was officially peaked, so of course my curious ass started looking through his tag here on Tumblr and phew girl 😮‍💨

I’m a little shook at how intensely my attraction has resparked just from these breadcrumbs and I’m more excited than ever to get to his introduction. I think I’ve still got something like 140 episodes to go, which is definitely a little rough, but I’m here for it either way. Lol I will say though, I’m a LITTLE surprised at how few self insert fics there are for the series but also this is a trend I’ve noticed with other long running shonen of the past as well. One Piece, Naruto, Bleach - these fandoms by and large seem to be more interested in canon character shipping, which is certainly valid, but it also just goes to show how (for lack of a better term) revolutionary the current fandom landscape actually is.

It’s basically a given now that modern shonen, in particular, will produce a slew of self insert content once they reach a certain level of popularity and I just think that’s so very sexy that we’ve collectively decided to forego using a canon character to vicariously live through (the first example to come to mind is Sakura, I know y’all don’t ship her with every single attractive character under the sun just because - and the wild discrepancy in her characterization is further proof of that, these people are not slick when they’re pairing her with Kakashi, Shikamaru, Kiba, Sasori, Itachi, Madara, etc but completely ignoring the dudes who aren’t widely considered good looking like Choji and Lee) (that being said, I respect the fuck out of people who do ship Sakura and Lee because they’re speaking their truth unapologetically and I think you can tell it’s not coming from a self insert angle but rather a genuine interest in the ship itself but anyway) I cannot stress how, like … frowned upon self inserting used to be. It was absolutely the minority in every single fandom and the oftentimes cringe worthy OC’s people would make did NOT help the overall opinion towards them either. It was much more acceptable to pick a female character you related to, or was most readily available to ship with your man of choice, and just live your best life through them. I, personally, always had a hard time vibing with this because I just can’t put myself in Sakura’s shoes like that and on the flip side it was nigh impossible to immerse in the OC content because they were not the (ideally) blank slates of today but rather Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way levels of wtf is even going on here.

Basically what I’m saying is that this generation of fandom peeps have really perfected the self insert experience in a way that I could have only dreamed of in the past, and every time I look into an older series with plenty of hot dudes to go around I’m reminded of just how bleak those days actually were. Hero Academia, Jojo, Haikyuu, etc have gone a long way in normalizing the idea of just going all in instead of keeping up the pretense or masking our intentions for the sake of being seen as “acceptable” by the rest of the fandom - and I know there are still people out there who snub their nose at self inserters but the sheer amount of staying power y’all have exhibited has been genuinely inspiring. I can honestly say that I probably never would have gotten back into writing had it not been for the blogs churning out more self shipping content than I could keep up with for OsoSan which unequivocally told me, hey. You’re not the only one who would rather fuck that man yourself with no canon character or overly detailed OC to get in the way. Just you and that good good 2D dick. 😩

TL;DR - I’m currently finding myself smitten with Vegeta all over again and the slim pickings of self insert content is reminding me how much I love and appreciate you guys, and yes it’s inspiring me to get back on the saddle again. I love being able to read and share thirst with everyone here, and as someone who knows too well how disappointing it is to have a hard time finding content for your fave it always fills me with such joy when I can give someone else that hit of serotonin. 🥰 Hugs and kisses, I WILL be back in full force soon and thank you to everyone who’s waited for me.

#this turned out longer than I intended but I’m unexpectedly excited to talk about Dragon Ball #and although I doubt many of my followers will give two shits about the series as a whole it’s always these little things that sort of #knock me back onto the right trajectory #I think I just get so caught up in my own head sometimes that it takes a spark of inspiration to snap me out of it and realize how much #enjoyment I get out of participating in fandom nowadays especially compared to how it was before #but yeah I’m gonna sit down and work on the requests for have left from #my celebration event I have NOT forgotten about you guys 👏😤 #also sorry about the lack of a read more I’m on mobile but I’ll try to go back in and add one as soon as I’m able to #baby bitch watches dragon ball

[myfeetkeepdancing]

gif credit: @gaybuckybarnes

NSFW 18+

"Mornin-..." You said with a rough ruffle in your voice as you slid open the door to reveal Tom sitting at the other side. "...-colleague." The word laden with sarcasm. Tom doesn't respond as you take your seat while sliding the door close again.

Last night was just as vibrant as the bright sunlight that peered through the large windows into the car—igniting the stinging headache that lingered in your thick skull. Tom sat there beside you. Actually, there was quite a distance between the two of you. Not uttering a word as he just looks at you. You give two knocks on the panel to signal the driver. Within a few seconds, the van sets into motion, and you're off to set.

"I thought you'd get a coffee for me…?" You pout sadly like a puppy looking back at forth at Tom's takeaway cup and his eyes. They connect with the cup and some of the content as it sloshes left and right in rhythm with the bumps in the road. But Tom's eyes were occupied elsewhere. Giving you a thorough look over, top to bottom, and the other way around, taking his sweet time before his eyes darted back up. Locking with yours.

"Did I… miss a memo or something?" He stares at you sheepishly.

"Wh-… Why?" You try to give the most innocent look you could possibly muster, but you know damn well what you're doing.

"Cause you dressed like w-we… eh got… something to celebrate." His eyes sink once again. Taking you and your outfit in thoroughly. That blank expression grew into a mischievous little smile.

"You look good too today, Tom." You chuckle seeing Tom all giddy and smiling. Moving closer, you lean in, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other raising his cap. His soft fingers find your cheek, and you hook your lips onto his. Mouthing a good morning to one another with a slightly intoxicated smile on both your faces from last night. Just like every other morning in bed.

The giant bulge and stretching grey fabric of his sweatpants make no secret of Tom's occupied mind. His smile stretches along with the trajectory of your hand. Sliding past the tight black shirt encasing the rippling muscles of his stomach. "Careful…" You whisper in his ear. "Or you'll spill the tea." And with that, your fingers dig underneath the band of his sweatpants. The distinct outlines betray his hardened cock.

"W-Wait…" He chuckled and grinned. "He… The driver… He'll hear us." Tom struggled with his words as you continued to caress his warm skin with your lips. Sucking on his earlobe and working downwards from there. "And… t-the windows." Tom points out the car stopping beside you. The driver completely unaware as you wave and show him the finger. Tom tries to make you stop but finds himself occupied in other pressing matters.

"See?" You made your point to Tom as several cars drive by without giving the tainted glasses, and your disturbing hand signals a glance. "Privacy glass."

"I was afraid for a moment you'll start showing your ass to the window."

"I have some decency, you know." Patting his cheek. Almost sitting in his lap, you share another kiss. "But let's play a game." You proposed but already started without an answer. Your fingers slid along his length. With a flick of your wrist, you push back the band of his sweatpants and underwear. His cock springs free. "We didn't get to this last night."

"Oh sh-..." Tom wanted to moan and gasp but tried to contain himself. Throwing his head back, he sucked on his inner cheeks. Biting on his lips. A sucking breath of excitement echoed in your ear as you began massaging his length. "F-... F-F..uck… Is this… t-the right place, though?"

You watch the swaying motion of his heaving chest, big and muscly, bundled in this tight black shirt—nipples poking in the fabric. You know what they look like. What they felt like. Tom's breathes are labored as your grip tightens on his slippery length. It's your off-hand so getting into the pace was harder than expected. But it left your main hand ready to mingle with Tom. His body. And all the buttons you know how to press right. "I can stop… But your body thinks otherwise."

"Don't stop!" He commanded eagerly. "B-... But… you c-can't…" He protests with a smile and tries to fight the feelings, not finishing his sentence. Overwhelmed by his urges.

"Keep that cup upright, Tommy." You warn him with a grin on your face as you bury your lips into his collarbone. You saw the intentions in his eyes. You see his hands moving. You couldn't change his mind. But blocking his vision was a possibility. You struggle a bit, feeling him heat up as your lips and tongue grace his soft silky smooth skin.

"This is t-too good…" He swallowed and stuttered for a moment. What you tried to avert still happened. The muscles in his arm bulged and rippled as he reached for you. Swift and with great interest. His hand works its way into your underwear. Reaching for your slick and harderend cock. "But... let's make it even." He smirked as he popped free your cock from captivity, known as constricting pants.

His fingers gripped your length. A shiver shoots across your body as you watch your own cock in clear daylight. Tom's beautiful fingers wrap around the base and begin massaging your cock with a fierce, tight grip. It's making your toes curl from excitement. It's rough, you think for a moment as your breath stocks in your throat. But as if he reads your mind, he lets go. You trace his hand as he cups his fingers at his lips and spits into them. You almost forget to breathe as his hand darts back to continue its mission. The cold sensation of his spit connecting with your pulsating length is tingling. It rocks you on the spot. You're captivated by Tom's handy work. Seeing and feeling his fingers coat your sensitive skin. It's mesmerizing.

"H...-H-How we're going to s-settle this…" He whispers into your ear as you're captivated by his close presence stroking your length. Before you look up, Tom leans into your lap, tilting his head ever so slightly to make eye contact. You almost forget you have his cock in your hand. A bit of spit collects on his lips as he lets it drool onto your cockhead. It glistens. Shines. Spilling all over. Holding your shaft, his thumb gently begins to rub it all over the cockhead. Massaging it with the utmost care.

"F-Finish this…?" You stifle a moan as Tom moves back up. You feel him beginning to jerk your length with increasing vigor and intensity. Your shoulders rest against one another. Watching each other jerking. You both try to control your moans. His labored breaths indicate you're doing the right thing.

You share glances, knowing how competitive Tom is, you'll do whatever necessary to win this. You move in. Kissing the bare skin of him where possible and in reach. It turns messy quickly. You try to take control again. Pushing his cap up gets you in reach for a kiss. Those tender lips eagerly waiting for a kiss. They looked perfect. Even the way Tom looked at you. But other things were far more eager to happen.

You stare in each other's pleading eyes. Finding solace by resting your forehead against one another. Eager to kiss. Eager to cum. Eager for more. "I… c-can't…" He stammered while licking his lips. "We…" He emphasized while giggling nervously. "We can't… cum like this."

"I agree…" You try to smile back. Picking up the pace as you feel it come closer. You couldn't help yourself as your eyes feasted on those stunning lines and contours of his body. Accentuated by the tight clothing. "Let's... f-find a solution... quickly."

"I… I'm not going to…" He panicked a little. Feeling both climaxes reaching their own. Unsure what to do with the cup in his other hand. Desperate not no spill the contents. "No! N-Not in the cup!" He shook his head, mouthing the words as he saw it coming. You need not give him a second glance as he knew and felt what was coming.

A warm embrace engulfs your cockhead. A wave of release and ecstasy rolls from you. Tom's lips slide all the way over your length. A vacuum created by his lips makes sure he catches each and every drop and wave you let go. It's tantalizing and extremely arousing to see Tom giving you head. He coughs and wheezes as he pumps up and down your length. Sucking every last drop out. Your body locks in place for a moment as its senses ride out the waves of emotions.

Awakened again by the feel of your fingers. A groaning moan vibrated through your cock. Your hands dripping wet as Tom groaned and popped up from your well-labored cock. Eyeing his own. You weren't ready as small spurts of cum leaked from the slit. His cock throbbed in your hand. Harder as ever before. You wanted to reach over, but Tom's figure in your lap withheld you.

You were just too late. Feeling him shake and shudder. "Shit… "He spurted, watching the lines of cum dribble down in a quickening pace down his cock. Each stroke you complete sets more into motion. "Oh shit, oh shit!"

Tom watched in terror as the white lines of man juice cruised its way down his length, through your fingers, and to his clothing. Possibly staining it in the worst possible way. You don't await approval. You're set in motion. As Tom recoils back into his seat. You dart forward and kneel in between the front chair and his seat. There is space. It's tight. But doable.

You suck in a breath. And start working. Your tongue catches the largest trace of cum, retracing it back up along your fingers and his shaft. It's warm and collects easily onto your tongue. Like saving a melting ice cream in the heat of summer. You scoop the dollops of cum from his cock. Just in time before it's able to stain any piece of clothing.

"Just in time…" He whispers and sighs in relief. Turning into sighs of pure pleasure. "Just… just…" He mumbles as you let your lips envelop his girthy length. It fills your mouth good. The taste of cum is overwhelming. Your brace and brave yourself for the next few minutes to come. You begin sucking and moving your head up and down his shaft. Tongue lapping the underside. Giving extra care and attention to his sensitive cockhead. You feel his every move. His shakes and shudders. The overstimulating sensations rocked his body. His hands clamp on the side of your head. Stirring you on further and faster. His eyes stare at you. Lusting for so much more.

"Oh G-God... I'm gonna..." Tom stutters. You keep up the rhythm. Suck, twirl, and twist. Harder and faster. With one hand, you feel up his balls. Cupping and massaging them. The veins on his length start to feel more present against the skin of your lips. With your other hand, you feel him up. The rippling muscles under that tight black shirt. Keeping eye contact all the while. You don't feel the rocking of the road. Or the headache. Only you and Tom. You felt it coming.

He moans hard as his butt launches from the chair, choking you on his length. An explosion envelopes the insides of your mouth and gushes down your throat. Your body is held by the sudden clench of his thighs. Cum guzzling down your throat. So much more than before. It takes a couple of seconds as you try to control your gag reflex. Until he slops back into the seat. His muscles soften, and he breathes again. The smile and sight of relief on Tom's face is worth it all. Even though the cramps and pain shoot through your spine and legs muscles. It's worth seeing your man happy and relieved. "Fuckin' hell…" He moaned and smirked at you. "That was crazy." He giggled, helping you up from the floor. "I like this game." He leaned in, quickly kissing you before you pulled up his pants. "We didn't stain anything, did we?" He says, looking around, slightly distressed. "Did we…?"

"We only fogged up the windows." You run your finger across the condensed windows, gathering it onto your finger. "Or is that tea…?" Slipping the finger in between the lips of Tom, pressing yours onto his lips. You both lick and suck. Tasting more than the cold condensation. You find yourself almost curled up in Tom's lap. Continuing to gently kiss each other. "Imagine what we could do on the way back tonight."

"God… I hope this shooting day won't take forever." He smirked and kissed you back. "I can't fucking wait…" Enveloping you in his arms and pushing you flat onto the seat. "I'm yours on the way back." And violently begins kissing and caressing your body. With the slightest of sounds. "Anything..." He mumbles as he disappears underneath your shirt. "Anything."

"I just… just... I hope there's… a… shower on set." You sigh in contempt as Tom works his wonderful lips onto your body. Worshipping you for the remainder of the ride.

#tom holland x male reader #Tom Holland x Male!reader #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland smut #smut #mlm love #male reader #male!reader #male reader smut #mlm #mlm smut

[xtrasauce]

I had a thought based off of one simple line I read somewhere like 2 years ago. So have this Dabi x Fem!Reader. You’re cornered, it’s dark, you’re at his mercy. some warnings: dubcon, rough sex, possessiveness, degradation (really more name calling?) - but! established relationship. you’ll understand what i mean

god this is so long

You truly hated working late nights. Even moreso that you were basically the only person competent enough to finish out the day without any issues. A new job was in order for sure, but you’d worry about that another day. Right now, as you rubbed your aching shoulders, your top priority was a nice warm shower, and to be rid of the business casual constrictions of your work skirt and button down. You really couldn’t wait.

The path home was the same - a few populated blocks and one or two turns into your neighborhood, easy right?

Well...

“What the fuck?” The blocked off streets confused you, but upon closer inspection you saw the breakup of gravel and concrete behind the gaudy hunks of plastic. Of course...what other inconveniences could you come across tonight? You mapped out the nearby streets in your head and it made unease creep into your limbs as you realized your choices were extremely limited. The darkness of the nearby alleyway stared back with a daunting emptiness - your unfortunate, and only option. Hesitance seeped into your blood and you felt something off in the air as you made only single step toward the enclosed space. Another step. And another. Your hands blindly sought out the rough surface of the nearby wall, you hadn’t realized you were holding a breath until you let out the shakily exhale deep in your chest. “Keep going” you told yourself, wavering footstep after footstep bringing you closer to the end of your anxiety induced trek. Step. Step.

What was that? Step. Step. Step. Step.

You froze. Anxiety hit an internal trajectory into full blown panic, but no part of your body could be bothered to move. Any semblance of breathing died in your throat as your ears rang, hoping to make sense of what you thought you heard. Step. Step. Step.

The gasp you let out was choked, and your legs acted on their own. You fell into a full sprint, heart thrumming in your head. You had no intention of finding out what followed you into the dark, your only objective to find the opposite end of the alley and find any nearby hero available. Nearly at the end, you willed your legs to throw your body into the light -

but the snake-like grip of fingers on your wrist yanked you backwards further into the shadows.

Your back slammed into the wall, your breath almost knocked out of your lungs. Your senses were heightened by your terror, almost allowing you to make out what seemed like the soft glint of pieces of metal in front of you. “Please-” came your frightened squeak. The figure pressed closer, and you heard the rustle of fabric at your side, accompanied by the presence of a hand quite close to your head. “Well, well...a stray kitten.” came a gritty rasp. Ash assaulted your nose, the smoky scent throwing you off as it mixed with the tone of his amused growl. You shook, “W-Who“ but once more, your voice failed you. A short laugh...and suddenly your vision was lit by blue.

Fire. Blue fire.

The man before held a cerulean flame in the palm of his hand. Illuminated now, you made out his roughened features: the hand in your face was almost completely charred in sickly purple and black hues of what looked like singed fleshed save for his fingers staples crudely scattered there; you moved your gaze to his face -  finding more silver staples under his eyes and across his the underside of his cheekbones. Was his jaw stapled to his face? His hair was dark and unkempt as it fell around his face and stopped right at his eyes, which you finally had to courage to lock your own with.

Blue. Endless and terrifying; the only comparison you could make were angry ocean waves. You nearly found yourself lost in how brightly his eyes reflected the color of his flames, but the heat in his fingertips reminded you that you weren’t exactly safe. Your eyes darted to either side, looking for any opening you could conceive. However, you weren’t the only one with their gears turning. “Ah, ah,” he chided, face leaning in now, “Don’t think that’s wise, princess.” The hand at your head found your wrist again, flipping your position to press your cheek into the grit of the building. You felt him hover next your ear, his chest leaning into your back, “Come with me, and I won’t hurt you...probably.” The last word was said with a playful insincerity. It made bile surge upward into your throat. He stoked out the flames of his opposite hand, reaching to bar both of your wrists to your back. You were being shoved in a direction you could no longer recognize, the darkness and your fear disorienting your navigation, and the idea of no longer knowing where you were or where you were going made you whimper.

Where was he taking you? Who the fuck was this man? And most importantly - what was he going to do to you?

The sudden noise of a something strong crashing through a hard surface startled you out of your petrified thoughts, and you realize he’s busted through a door you hadn’t noticed prior to now. Before you had time to question it, the force of his hands pushed you into the room. Ceiling level windows allowed for small beacons of moonlight on the opposite side of the building to peek in. A few blinks gave your eyes the time to adjust to your surroundings. Several dusty crates and old pieces of furniture littered the area, your wisest guess coming to the conclusion that the place was abandoned. Taking in your environment, you almost missed the harsh click that sounded behind you, but your adrenaline knew better - you whipped around to find the man stalking toward you after having sealed the door shut. You made a beeline for the door, hoping to dodge past him somehow and reach the exit. But oh were you wrong. He was far quicker than you could’ve imagined, an arm shooting out and catching your waist with ease. You were immediately pulled into him with your back flush to his chest, his other arm bear hugging your frame tightly against him. Without much difficulty, you were lifted off of your feet as he carried you forward. Finally your voice sounded into the night air, screams echoing to the tune of ‘Let me go’s’ and a terrified chorus of ‘No’s. Legs and feet flailed wildly in his grasp - until you felt the hand at your neck. A flicker of heat pricked your skin,

“Wrong fuckin’ move, doll.” and he reaffirmed his grip on your body, constricting you almost painfully now, “...You’re gonna let this shit happen without fightin’ me...or I burn a hole through that pretty throat of yours.”

Panic sliced its way into your veins, “Let WHAT happen-” And his hand moved to tilt your jaw as his opposite forearm pressed against your breasts to give him a better view of your cleavage, “...Oho...” you felt the drag of something hot and wet along your neck now, “...I think you can take a good guess what.” The notion had you reeling, spelled out loud and clear with the heavy undertones of lust in his tone. You were tossed unceremoniously onto a nearby loveseat, barely being able to register he let you out of his grasp. When it finally dawned on you, your mind raced, “I have to-!”

One last push for your freedom, you immediately scrambled onto your knees, the idea to scuttle your way over the couch and as far from him as possible at the forefront of your thoughts. But again...you underestimated how truly swift he was. Nimble fingers wrapped around your ankle, hauling you towards his towering frame. “I don’t think you understand what’s fuckin’ happening here,” he growled, flipping you onto your back now, eyes in a fiery glow, “The only place you’re going is under me, princess.” He threw your legs open, pinning your body underneath his crushing weight as he settled himself on top of you. One set of fingers grabbed at your jaw, prying your face up, his lips sealing over yours in an instant. Your hands dug into his shoulder blades, the limited space not allowing for much movement. Nails breached past his jacket and into his scarred flesh - only coaxing a low groan out of the man however; and he worked at your mouth in an attempt to slip his tongue past your lips. When his efforts failed him, it would take only a quick pinch to your nipple through the thin confines of your shirt - the gasp being all he needed to fight down your own slick appendage. The kiss was heavy and extremely hot, almost unbearably so, as you felt heat rising up the entirety of your body. You felt a pang of guilt at how easily you let this man just worm his way into your mouth like this. The fight you put up could barely even considered that by your standards.

Another pinch to your nipple, pulling a hiss from you, “Focus on me,” he grumbled lowly, his hand fully cupping your tender flesh, “Can’t have you thinkin’ about somebody else while I’m fuckin’ you.”

You flushed at his accusation, but you’re given no time to dwell on it as his hand slips between the buttons of your shirt, prying the material apart, pieces clattering to the ground. Rough, textured skin threatened to snag on your plush flesh; between the heated kisses and the way his fingers are now swiftly releasing your breasts from their confines, your thighs involuntarily started to tremble. Those same hands that previously pinched the delicate flesh now found flush access to your tits, rough pads of his digits rolling and massaging your nipples to stiffness. You whined, face flushing at how needy you sounded despite the position you were put in. It was too much to feel his gaze on your face, watching you, so you turned your head. But his lips followed you, his teeth grazing the sensitive expanse of your neck and latching down just under your jaw, sucking the skin into his mouth, hard. A wave of prickling desire shot up your spine, and your thighs gripped his sides tighter. The keen you let out amused the man above you, so much so that he left your neck with a pop. He grasped your jaw once more, forcing your eyes to meet his. Deep turquoise bore heavy into your own irises - pure hunger and possession burning into you. He hummed with pleasure at the sight of your eyes glassing over, fat tears forming at the corners and the tremble in your lip from your fright oh so prominent. The wicked grin that spread across his features let you know truly how much he enjoyed your apprehension....but the noises he pulled from you had you internally questioning yourself. With his eyes holding your terrified gaze, you missed his hands sliding down your neck. Both of his hands suddenly pawed at your tits, squeezing and massaging the globed flesh. Your gasp was sharp - but not as much as the one you let out when his tongue found your nipples, running of the flat of his wet muscle over them, before leaning in to take the buds between his teeth.

“Ahhh!” you yipped, your fingers now finding themselves in his hair. You tugged at his locks, unsure if it was a mechanism to pull him off of your skin...or to coax him further. The groan deep in his throat took the gesture as the latter, “That’s it...make those sounds for me. I knew you’d give in at some point, dirty bitch” and you felt a chuckle reverberate from his chest. “Nooo” you mewled, straining your back to pull away from his teasing and touching. All your efforts were proven in vain however, when you felt the grind of something solid against your cloth covered sex. Immediately you felt an ache deep within you, and your legs drew him in against your better judgement, wanting the friction once more. His eyes flicked up from your chest, watching your lip curling between your teeth, your eyes screwed shut when he rolled his hips down once more. One hand trailed down the curve of your hip, slipping quickly between your thighs. Once you felt fingers rubbing over your pussy, your eyes snapped open. “No!” you screeched, your hands desperately shooting to his forearm to pull him from his destination. Your efforts barely budged his arm; without warning, he pressed a finger past your panties, slipping through your inner lips and directly into your heat. A few simple strokes of digits inside you had you huffing already, fear-based adrenaline and desire mixing a cocktail in your belly. He swiftly pulled his fingers out, “Oh but kitten...look how bad you fuckin’ want it,” he purrs, showcasing his fully soaked, glistening fingers. Heat flushed the entirety of your body, watching him take those fingers into his mouth, sucking the slick from your pussy clean off of them. He licked his lips, pulling your hips closer, “Almost as bad as me.”

It was then he must’ve decided he was done playing around, and you heard the metal clink of his belt sounding under you. Your body twisted momentarily in protest, but heated fingers that gripped your leg now reminded you to make better choices. With his cock free from its confines, your eyes shot between his legs. A new wave of trembling wracked your body. He was thick and heavy, bobbing almost threateningly from how hard he was with the head already dripping. His hand came to stroke himself, as he shot you a proud smirk, “Take a good look doll, cause you won’t see it from here on out,” and he leaned forward, yanking your panties to the side in the process, “But you sure will fuckin’ feel it.”

And oh, did you. He surprisingly took his time entering you, the burning of him stretching you open, sending laps of fire up your hips - the only piece of mercy he’s managed to lend you so far.

He was so fucking big.

You winced as he continued, feeling yourself clench hard as you tried to will your body to accommodate. When he felt like he was far enough, he pulled back a little quicker, the thick ridges of his cock rubbing against the velvet of your cunt - a feeling that made him curse in a hiss above you. Your legs clung to him once more, pain and pleasure still an acrid mix swirling inside you. A few fingers found their way between your bodies - circling slowly over your clit. “Come on princess, open up that pussy,” he coaxed you with a cruel smirk, “So fuckin’ tight...” Your toes curled at the sensation, slowly letting gentle waves of satisfaction crawl up your stiffened limbs. The vice-like grip you held on him eased into something more of a needy cling. This man, this...stranger, managed to break you into submission, so much so that your pussy clenched at the feeling of him stuffing you to the hilt now. One long stroke, and you were so incredibly full. “Please...” you whined. But why? What exactly were you asking for? He swayed his hips, movements hard and deep as he lent you stroke after stroke. “What’s that?” he mused, tongue gliding up your neck again, stopping just short at your ear. He slammed his hips up at that instant, ripping a wanton moan from your lips. “Oh...like that? Feels fuckin’ good, don’t it?” You bit down on your lip in response, unable to give a coherent response. That only coaxed him further, his cock stroking deep inside you, your gummy walls squeezing down on him tighter and tighter by the minute. With his fingers still drawing circles on your clit, you felt your body spiraling towards the beginning of an orgasm. Tears threatened to fall from your lashes, this entire encounter leaving its mark on your heart as you couldn’t imagine what to do after he was completely rid of you. Your silence displeased the arsonist above you, and he bowed his head down, teeth attaching at the junction of your shoulder. The shock of pain had you gasp, quickly melting into a moan as his thrusts hit that spot inside you that had your back arching. It was beginning to be too much, and your hands bit down on the biceps of his jacket, “I can’t-” you cried out, “Can’t- s’too much ahnn”. His hips were slamming into you now, “You will” he growled harshly into your ear, the gruff in his voice making your cunt clench.

A few more swipes at your clit paired with his exhaled thrusts had you cumming in waves against him. You snapped your eyes shut, screaming and crying as your orgasm lit your body from head to toe with electricity.

It was his turn to bite his lip at the feel of you clamping down on him, his previously occupied hand now wrapping around your thigh and pistoning into your sopping hole as hard as his hips would allow. With the other hand on your breast, he chased his own high with rough pants gliding across your exposed skin, “Fuckfuckfuck” the clap of his balls on your ass was only pushing him further forward, “This cunt is fucking mine, you hear me? You’re my bitch to breed. ” And his hand shot up to your face, pulling your chin and shaking you alert to lock eyes. He narrowed his gaze, “Mine. Forever.” When your pussy fluttered around him, his body finally lurched forward as he roared out against your neck, pumping you full of his seed. The feeling of warmth flashing inside of you had you biting back a moan, your hole already feeling so overly sensitive. He finally slowed to a stop, pulling out at a hiss. His hand drifted up from your chest to caress your cheek, “...You alright, babe?”

One of your hands came to the back of his head, scratching gently at his scruffy locks, “I’m okay, hunny...definitely going to be a little sore though.” He chuckled softly at that, lifting his head to meet your eyes. You lent him a small smile, your fingers tracing the scars under his eyes, “Are you okay?” He was silent at first, but his arms suddenly encased you, pulling you upright and into his lap, his forehead leaning against your own, “Never been better, doll.” His hand gently pushed against your back, coercing you to lean forward against his chest. You did so happily, relishing the warmth his body gave off. Dabi hummed happily when you let out a sigh of relief at his arm coming around you, rubbing your back in a gentle, comforting motion. Warm lips pressed against your forehead, and in a hush he whispered, “I love you, babe.” Your voice was fading into hoarseness now from overuse, but you settled further against him, whispering into his neck, “I love you too, Dabi...”

You would stay like that for a while, holding onto one another, content with what comfort it brought both of you to be wrapped around each other as you were.

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

“This place is so filthy, Dabi, jesus,” you griped, dusting your legs free of dirt and grime from the furniture, “How did you even know where to find this?” He swiped his nose, “Used to be an old League meetup spot. Shigaraki was really the only other person who knew how to get here besides me.” He handed you his jacket, the long garment being the only thing that was going to cover your naked chest considering he destroyed the buttons on your top. “Well...lets get out of here,” you sighed softly, stretching your limbs, “I’ll make us some dinner, and I’m sure we desperately need a shower.” He leaned forward, voice in a playful lilt, “You thinkin’ bout a round two already, princess?” You smacked his bicep, a soft warning in your tone, “Dabi!” He rolled his eyes, trying to bite back a laugh, “Yeah yeah, food sounds good.”

A small smirk crossed his lips, the jacket looked good on you, he had to admit it, and the thoughts about you being his girl made him feel something warm within him flutter about. He trailed behind you, but not before smacking your ass on the way out of the abandoned building, a yelp sounding from you, followed by a laugh.

God he loved you so much.

#ahhhhhhhh #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #dabi #dabi x reader #touya x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi smut #dabi thirst #x reader #mha smut #bnha smut

[enamoured-x]

Sweet Release

Angel Reyes x Reader

Summary: When Angel doesn’t make time for you, you make a hard choice. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Angst

Word count: 3k

Excerpt: “You couldn’t fake reaching literal heaven every time Angel sank inside you. But he didn’t deserve to hear that right now.”

*gif is mine!

a/n: so this came out of nowhere but i’m excited about it and there will be a part 2!!! i fucking missed writing for angel, so much so i may or many not open my requests back up again! keep an eye out for part 2 though!

Part 1

To say you were miserable was a gross understatement. And you couldn't even be mad about it because this was your doing. You were the reason you were wallowing everyday. You were the reason you had to take care of your own needs with a vibe that was nowhere near what you wanted. You were the maker of your own misery. But then again, were you really? Angel fucking Reyes should be the one to blame. When you first started dating Angel, everything was perfect, isn’t it always though? You were happier than you had ever been and honestly, you two were jumping each other's bones whenever you could. Up until a few months ago that was. 

Suddenly Angel just couldn’t make time anymore, always busy with the club. You knew with being secretary came a lot more responsibilities, and you were extremely proud of him and happy that he was able to move up in the club. What you weren’t happy about was the canceled dates. Hell, sometimes he wouldn’t even come over to spend the night, opting to stay at the club house in his dorm because he was taking care of shit as he liked to put it. You had grown exhausted waiting for him at restaurants and then looking stupid as you had to tell the waiters your date wasn’t showing up. You were exhausted of the food you put an effort into making going to waste because he wouldn’t show and when he did even the leftovers went untouched because he already ate. You were exhausted from the effort and time you put into stopping by the clubhouse, figuring if he couldn’t come to you that you’d go to him. But even those occasions were met with his quick words of I can’t hang out right now, club shit. So eventually you just had enough. He wasn’t putting in any effort and you deserved more than that. Deserved more than a few measly texts a day that didn’t even contain a simple I love you. And you told him as much when you went to the clubhouse for the sole purpose of getting your key back to your apartment and to tell him you were through. Lord knows if you tried to schedule a time to talk it would’ve inevitably gotten canceled. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Looking for Angel?” Ez had asked you as you pulled into the junkyard and exited your car. He was wiping grime off his hands with a cloth, looking like he was fixing up the bikes. 

“Yup. I’ll spoil the surprise for you now but I’m here to dump your brother.” You were annoyed to say the least, at your wits end with the older Reyes. You were also honestly a little mad at yourself for not doing this sooner. Could’ve saved you from looking pathetic out in public a few times. 

Ez’s eyes widened and he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Jesus, What happened?” He asked, taking on a sympathetic tone. You loved Ezekiel like your own brother. He was always looking out for you and had become a great friend since you started dating Angel. Which is why you could only hope you two could remain friends even after this. 

“I got tired of showing up for someone who isn’t willing to do the same.” You shrugged and then walked toward the house. Once inside you spotted Angel immediately, sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand as he talked with Coco and Gilly. So this was what he was doing instead of making time for you. They looked over at your presence and Angel stood up, a smile on his face. 

“Hey, querida. What are you doing here?” He said, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your temple. Honestly, it was more affection than you had gotten all month. You didn’t make any move to lean into him. 

“We need to talk.” Is all you said before Coco and Gilly awkwardly shared a look. 

“I’m a little busy, mam–”

“Yeah, life as secretario looks so fucking busy.” You snapped and he backed away to look at you. His face contorted in confusion and anger. 

“The fuck?” And that was Coco and Gilly’s cue to go outside, leaving just you and Angel. 

“I need my key back to my apartment.” You stated, getting right into it. Trying to mask what you were really feeling. This was already hurting like a bitch despite the trajectory of your relationship recently. You loved Angel, you really did. But you loved yourself enough to know that you didn’t deserve putting in your all in this relationship as he gave you nothing in return. 

“Come again?” He set his bottle down and gave you all his attention. That was a first. 

“My key. Give it back. I’m done with this.” You motioned between you two. You were being a little more petty than you wanted to be. Originally you had planned to just have a civil conversation about leaving him but he couldn’t even extend that courtesy with his shit poor excuses so why should you? Besides, there was nothing civil about you and Ange Reyes.

“Wait, what the fuck are you talking about?” He was angry, now getting the gist of what you were doing. 

“You heard me. We’re done. Give me my key back.” Angel shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. 

“Fuck no. I’m not giving you shit back, we’re not done. The fuck are you talking about? Where’s this shit coming from?” Of course it was just like Angel to try and control the situation, act like he was in charge. 

“You’re really asking me why?” You honestly don’t know how he could see this as a blindside. Honestly, he should be surprised you didn’t dump his ass sooner. 

“Mami, stop playing fucking games.” He stepped closer, eye simmering with rage. How ironic. 

“Angel, when was the last time we fucked?” You asked, trying to figure out how to gauge this conversation. Some part of you did want to just dump him and then leave, offering no explanation because the angry part of you felt like he didn’t deserve one. But maybe by explaining it you were doing a solid for the next girl that would come after you. Your heart restricted at the thought. Your stomach filling with lead. You pushed that away, now was not the time to sit in your grief, right now you were controlled by your anger and your disappointment. 

“Wha–I don’t know…” He trailed off thinking. Probably confused by your question and what it had to do with you leaving him. 

“Exactly. Angel, you’ve barely touched me this past month and I don’t have enough fingers to count how many times I’ve been stood up by you these past few weeks alone. You’re never around, Angel.” You pointed out. You felt your nose start to burn and you mentally cursed yourself for wanting to cry. You were supposed to put on this facade, you were supposed to act like you weren’t deeply devastated at the fact that you had to do this in the first place. But you were, sitting in your anger was only going to get you so far until that simmered out and the pain creeped in. 

“I told you I–”

“Your busy, yeah, I got that.” You quipped. He tried to grab your hand but you pulled it away and he scoffed. 

“You serious right now? I miss a few dates and you want to leave me? Nah, that’s not how this works. You talk to me about it.” 

“Talk? Are you fucking serious? When could I have talked to you, hmm? I’ve made plans with you three times this week alone and you flaked on all of them, it's not even fucking Friday. So when could I have talked to you? You don’t fucking care.” 

He stepped up to you and pointed at you, “do not say I don’t fucking care.” He was pissed, just now realizing the gravity of the situation. Just now realizing you weren’t fucking around. You were glad for it, maybe he’d take it seriously now. 

“You don’t. If you cared I wouldn’t be up late at night wondering if you’re okay because you didn’t bother to shoot me a text. If you cared I wouldn’t look like an idiot to half the fucking waiters in this town because you didn’t bother to show up. If you cared, Angel, I wouldn’t have to touch myself at night because my own man can’t bother to please me.” You knew you were getting through to him during your spiel but his stare turned murderous when you questioned his abilities to please you. Of course that was what got his attention. 

“The fuck you just say to me?” He towered over you now but you weren’t going to let him intimidate you. You were in charge of this situation, not him. 

“Which part needs repeating? When I said you keep standing me up or the part where I said you don’t please me in bed?” You fired back. Gone was the grief again, your rage taking its turn to control you once again. Your emotions were all over the place but so were you and Angel. 

“Careful, mami.” He said, voice low and threatening. You snorted.

“Why? Afraid your club will hear how you don’t know how to please a woman.” Next thing you know you were being shoved against the wall. Breath knocked out of you at the quick and forceful action. His hand latched onto your throat now. Your center throbbed, like a call to tell you that you needed this. You definitely didn’t want to but your fingers only did so much. 

It was all shit, Angel did know how to please you, that is when he could be bothered. But you knew how to press his buttons just right, how to make him angry like no one else could. And you wanted him upset, you wanted him angry because he had hurt you. 

“You know that’s not true. Had you screaming last time.” He said in your ear as he trailed his hands down your waist and to your ass. Pulling you closer to him to grind himself against you. You swallowed hard. You had missed his touch, had missed him being this close. Your senses were going haywire, not knowing which way was up or down, not knowing what the fuck you were here to do in the first place. All you could feel was him, all you could smell was him. All you wanted was him. But you knew right now you were thinking with your pussy and just because you wanted him still did not mean you didn’t want to break up with him. But your vibrator and fingers were doing a shit job at giving you what you needed, and well, if this was the end, you needed the release only Angel could provide you with. Despite you telling him only moments ago that he offered nothing in bed. 

“Maybe I was faking it.” You weren’t. You couldn’t fake reaching literal heaven every time Angel sank inside you. But he didn’t deserve to hear that right now. He squeezed your throat, bringing you a sense of euphoria. 

“Faking it? Yeah, let’s see you fake this, mami.” He unbuttoned your jeans and slid his hand inside your panties. You cursed yourself for being so wet already. 

“You wet because you’re faking it?” He asked, lips right at your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine and caused your core to clench around nothing. He felt it though. He laughed under his breath and you wanted to slap him for being so cocky after everything. But it wouldn’t matter once this was over. You’d let him have his fun now. Let him think he was in control one last time. 

“I don’t think so. You’re always wet for me, always so damn needy. Always so fucking ready to take me.” He turned you around and pushed you against the wall, pulling at your hips for your ass to grind against his crotch. His dick was already hard and straining in his pants. You let out a moan. You didn’t care that you were out in the open, didn’t care that his words pissed you off mostly because they were true. Didn’t care that this was going to be the last time. No, all you cared about in this moment was getting Angel inside you and coming around his cock. 

“Then fuck me, Angel. Prove you can actually please me.” You spurred him on. Needing your release already. Craving it. 

“My fucking pleasure.” He said, obviously not in the mood to drag this on any longer. He made quick work of yanking your jeans and panties down and you heard him fumbling with his own pants. You felt the tip of his cock slide against your slit, getting himself slicked for you with your juices. You moaned as the head nudged against your clit. Your body was on fire. The white hot need inside you, pooling in your stomach, was screaming for a release. And you were about to get one. 

“Fuck me already. Or did you forget how to do it?” You wanted it rough and hard, wanted him to leave bruises on your hips and feel you ache of him days later. You wanted something to remember him by. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Was all he said before slamming into you, filling you up. You screamed at the force and at how long it had been since he was last inside you. The stretch hurt so good and you pushed against the wall to meet his brutal thrusts. He wrapped a hand around your throat again as he dug his fingers into your hips, forcing you on his length over and over. 

“So fucking tight. This what you wanted, mami? So fucking desperate for my cock?” You whined at his words because they were true. But you didn’t want to admit it. 

“I want it harder actually.” You were hanging on by a thread here. All that pent up frustration from spoiled orgasms from your fingers to hating Angel for leaving you high and dry. It was all coming together to create a thunderous symphony of emotions, one that was about to hit its crescendo. 

Angel didn’t disappoint as he pounded you from behind, trying to reach his release as desperately as you were trying to reach yours. The hand that was on your throat immediately made way to your clit.

“Fuck, Angel.” You cried out as he rubbed the numb, never relenting in his pace. Tears were forming in your eyes. From the stimulation or from the breakup that was still going to happen, you didn’t know. All you knew right now was Angel. 

“Fuck, yeah. Gonna come, mami? Gonna come on my dick?” You grabbed his arm to roll your hips both on his fingers and back onto his cock. Pleasure was hitting you from all angles and you were about to break. You clenched down on him, wanting him to reach his release too. Wanting to feel him fill you up. 

“Oh fuck!” He yelled out as you clenched around him. He bit your shoulder to control himself and you groaned at the sting that accompanied his bite. It was all too much and not enough. Which was sign enough that you were right on the precipice. 

“Gonna come.” You barely got the words out, mind too wrapped up in literally everything else. Everywhere Angel was touching. 

“Do it. Let me hear you.” He rubbed just right on the bundle of nerves as his cock pistoned inside you and you were done for. You dived right off that cliff. Your back arched as you screamed his name. Your vision went black for a moment as you fucking drowned in your high. Angel diving right in after you as you felt him spill inside you and curse your name. You finally came back to the present, catching your breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm started to fade in waves. You suddenly became aware of the situation again. Became aware of why you were here. As mind blowing as that climax was, it didn’t change anything. You turned around as you lifted your pants back up, Angel doing the same. Once he finished buttoning them you pulled him in for a kiss. Putting everything you had into it, what was left of your energy. He kissed you back with the same intensity and you cursed him because this was all you had been asking for. For him to love you, for him to give you something. But he didn’t and this was not going to change anything. 

As his tongue slipped into your mouth, you slid your hand into his back pocket and pulled out his keys and pulled away from him. He was confused until you backed up from him and started to unhook your key from his key ring. 

“What the fuck….” Of course he was confused, of course he thought sex was going to fix this. You pushed the keys against his chest and he held your hand against his chest, realizing what was happening, what was still happening.

“No…” He shook his head, realization dawning on him that the sex was one last sweet release before you left. A goodbye. Not a makeup. 

“Don’t do this shit. Don’t do this to me, baby.” He shook his head, eyes glossy. Words breaking. Your heart cracked, gone was the intense high he just gave you and instead there you were, right back in the low of it all. 

“You did this to yourself, Angel. Goodbye.” You swallowed hard and tugged your hand out of his grasp, he let out a breath. You turned around and walked out the door with your head high. Walked out leaving him behind to deal with what just happened. Walked out and into the shit storm that was going to be the next few weeks of getting over one Angel Reyes. 

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #mayans mc #angel reyes imagine

[werezmastarbucks]

dreams: kitchen

dreams masterlist

kai parker x ruby summers x reader

warnings: GRAPHIC violence

word count: 1209

not even gonna mention the music i feel it's old of me

Just like that, it was morning. Light, puffy, fresh, pink morning. That kind of pink that makes cotton candy sweet. That gets stuck in your hair with the wind, and smells of sea wherever you are. That glistens on the tops of the roofs, and knocks into windows so gently it wakes up no one. That kind of morning, that splashes mature colors across the sky once it gets confident, and dissolves completely, and one always feels just a little lost in such pure, otherworldly freshness. Absolute cleannes of it confuses. Just like extreme heat, or intense yellow fear, it makes people do... things.

You run into a house, a house just like all others in the row lining up the street. The little house, for average size dreams, not too ambitious or brave, for a future that everybody dreads. One car garage, standard windows, untelling face. But there's something unnatural there. There's something behind the closed white door, gaping, even though there's no opening. Something that makes you run, not even jog, and you flee like the wind, banging on the three little steps up. You put your hand onto the knob and doubt for a second. Just like in a dream... and it is another dream, again, you realize, you just know rather than predict, that something has happened. And you know who it's to do with, and what trajectory it went. There's something behind that door that you won't be able to take, and so, you freeze, your palm caressing the handle, looking into the tiny fake window, black, obscuring what's inside.

The house now looms over you, like it's huge. Like it's a tragic mansion that's about to crack down and bury you under its ruins, and that would be for the best, as compared with what's. Inside. It's like a melody, so sad, you can't stop listening, while almost pressing your finger firmly on the pause button. It hypnotizes you because grief, unlike momentary joy and untrustworthy happiness, is a part of real pattern of life. Grief, you remember, because at the moment of it you're truly alive. Aware of your every bone and every cell. Listening to the sounds of nature around, and the moan of the world. Feeling the breeze and the burning heat of the sun in your eyes. Grief weighs more. Grief stops you dead in your tracks, and, seemingly, all these weeks you've been seeing these dreams, you've learnt the true essence of it. Up until now, it has been almost complete.

You open the door and enter the house, the little hallway that opens to the staircase. The empty, little, nice enough house, a place to die in. The morning light, coming through the windows and colliding with the wood panels on the floor, becomes warm and beige.

You turn and find him in the kitchen.

The boy from your dreams. You never remember his name, but you always know he's the centerpiece of this world. He means something imminent to you. You ache every time you encounter him, again and again, and it always leaves you restless.

He's standing above the kitchen sink, and for the first time, his shoulders are shaking. Before you finish struggling, he turns, and you see that he's not crying; he's not scared. His face is perfectly white, with deep shadows under cheekbones and eyes; his hair is perfectly dark, absorbing the morning shining. And you realize that in the skies, it's the blood that he had spilt. He smiles.

His eyes, the deep black and navy, run across your body and then he passes right by you. Ignoring your existence, he heads to the entrance you just freed for him.

"Don't go upstairs", he says casually. Your head snaps towards the staircase. You try to imagine, in detail, and fail.

"Glad you didn't call me here to clean up after you".

"That", he turned back to you, already standing on the porch, "later".

You see that all his shirt, and all his hands, his chin and left cheek, his neck and elbows, and his hips are covered in blood.

He sits down and you join him, but not before you look into the sink he'd been laughing at. Unsuprisingly, there's a big knife there. Big ass knife, with tiny drops of blood on the gray metal, like finishing touches. The black eye of the sink tells you something you don't want to hear.

You know what his love language is.

He lets the morning air soothe his face but doesn't close his eyes. The extatic feeling of murder has already left him; he's very hard to keep satisfied. He's a very complicated person, and you know it. And he knows it. He looks at you with understanding and with firm seriousness when you sigh quietly.

"I had to do it. I just had to".

You know he's lying. About the headache, and the dreams, and the mania. About the need to do it. You can already almost recall who he is, and you know for sure who's lying upstairs, with open chest and ribs torn out and standing up like feathers on a disembowelled chicken, in her pyjamas. Her pearl-blonde hair, and puffed lips, her doll face. You would have killed her, too. She does look like an angel.

"And she's with the angels now?" you ask, playing along.

"Yeah".

You scratched your knees.

"But for real, though, why?"

A word got hangs in the air, his name, to make it more personal. As you stare into his perfect face, the sight you are gradually growing weary of, because you coud never touch it, you remember.

"Kai".

He keeps silent for some time. The street is marvelously quiet. If only you could get up that early, you'd go for sunrise walks everyday. Without any doubt, the sunrise is the best time to admire the world around you. So tender, so quiet. So pure, like it just cleans itself like a cat.

"Well, I loved her, I'd told you that".

He puts his arm around your shoulder and you can smell her blood. You burst into tears, out of jealousy. It's a grim paradox, wanting to be on her place. You want it, and at the same time, you don't. All you wish to do is to press your face into the angle of his neck and kiss it. Kiss it forever, until he kisses you back. But he never does it, not even in your dreams.

You wake up crying, and wipe your face with the second pillow. You remember Ruby Summers and what he did to her, the sight Kai performed out of her body. All the intricate disfigurments, the torn out joints and broken little bones, the shredded skin on her shoulders, the carvings on her chest, her untouched face, and the fact he never covered it, that he even wiped the blood off it, to keep it clean. The degree of animalistic violence he brought upon his little victim said clearly how much he used to care for her, and inside of you, the similar bloody angel was weeping now, because he was gone now, and you never got to know if he'd kill you in the end.

#kai parker x reader #kai parker imagine #kai parker #vampire diaries #legacies #tvd imagine

[katnissmellarkkk]

Hiiii! Here’s part two of my Katniss and Peeta Taking Of Each Other bookcomb! It’s pretty long so … sorry 😬. There was a lot I didn’t include and a lot I wasn’t sure about including, because so much of Catching Fire and Mockingjay is about them wanting to protect the other but I tried to narrow it down to actual acts that were caring, or times they at least tried to care for the other.

-

Then, as if I can’t stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips — he still isn’t entirely in command of his artificial leg — and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that’s where we have our first kiss in months. It’s full of fur and snowflakes and lipstick, but underneath all that, I can feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. And I know I’m not alone. As badly as I have hurt him, he won’t expose me in front of the cameras. Won’t condemn me with a halfhearted kiss. He’s still looking out for me. Just as he did in the arena. Somehow the thought makes me want to cry. Instead I pull him to his feet, tuck my glove through the crook of his arm, and merrily pull him on our way.

-

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers follow a pace or two behind us.

-

Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. Not well enough. I drift off only to be roused by nightmares that have increased in number and intensity. Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms, guarding against dangers that can descend at any moment.

-

“He was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man.

“He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.”

-

When my mother has locked the door behind them, I slump against the table.

“What is it?” says Peeta, holding me steadily.

“Oh, I banged up my left foot. The heel. And my tailbone’s had a bad day, too.” He helps me over to one of the rockers and I lower myself onto the padded cushion.

My mother eases off my boots. “What happened?”

“I slipped and fell,” I say. Four pairs of eyes look at me with disbelief. “On some ice.” But we all know the house must be bugged and it’s not safe to talk openly. Not here, not now.

-

My mother gives me a cup of chamomile tea with a dose of sleep syrup, and my eyelids begin to droop immediately. She wraps my bad foot, and Peeta volunteers to get me to bed. I start out by leaning on his shoulder, but I’m so wobbly he just scoops me up and carries me upstairs. He tucks me in and says good night but I catch his hand and hold him there.

-

Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. “Almost thought you’d changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner.”

I’m foggy but I can guess what he means. With the fence going on and me showing up late and the Peacekeepers waiting, he thought I’d made a run for it, maybe with Gale.

“No, I’d have told you,” I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it, taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today.

-

Each afternoon he carries me downstairs for a change of scenery and I unnerve everyone by turning on the television.

-

Effie, shining in a wig of metallic gold, lacks her usual verve. She has to claw around the girls’ reaping ball for quite a while to snag the one piece of paper that everyone already knows has my name on it. Then she catches Haymitch’s name. He barely has time to shoot me an unhappy look before Peeta has volunteered to take his place.

-

“Why would he paint a picture of me, Effie?” I ask, somehow annoyed.

“To show he’s going to do everything he can to defend you. That’s what everyone in the Capitol’s expecting, anyway. Didn’t he volunteer to go in with you?” Effie says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

-

I lock my fingers tightly into his and say, “Watch my feet. Just try to step where I step.” It helps. We seem to move a little faster, but never enough to afford a rest, and the mist continues to lap at our heels.

-

Peeta and Finnick and I position ourselves in a triangle, a few yards apart, our backs to one another. My heart sinks as my fingers draw back my last arrow. Then I remember Peeta has a sheath, too. And he’s not shooting, he’s hacking away with that knife. My own knife is out now, but the monkeys are quicker, can spring in and out so fast you can barely react.

“Peeta!” I shout. “Your arrows!”

Peeta turns to see my predicament and is sliding off his sheath when it happens. A monkey lunges out of a tree for his chest. I have no arrow, no way to shoot. I can hear the thud of Finnick’s trident finding another mark and know his weapon is occupied. Peeta’s knife arm is disabled as he tries to remove the sheath. I throw my knife at the oncoming mutt but the creature somersaults, evading the blade, and stays on its trajectory.

Weaponless, defenseless, I do the only thing I can think of. I run for Peeta, to knock him to the ground, to protect his body with mine, even though I know I won’t make it in time.

-

While I help Peeta coat his skin with the ointment, Finnick deftly cleans the meat from the shellfish.

-

I stretch out, pressing my hot cheek on the grass mat, staring at the thing in aggravation. Peeta rubs a tense spot between my shoulders and I let myself relax a little.

-

I know it’s stopped when I feel Peeta’s hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently. It takes a long time before I begin to relax the iron grip on my body. And when I do, the trembling begins.

“It’s all right, Katniss,” he whispers.

-

“Katniss!” I hear his voice though he’s a far distance away. But what is he doing? Peeta must have figured out that everyone is hunting us by now. “Katniss!”

I can’t protect him. I can’t move fast or far and my shooting abilities are questionable at best. I do the one thing I can to draw the attackers away from him and over to me. “Peeta!” I scream out. “Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!” Yes, I will draw them in, any in my vicinity, away from Peeta and over to me and the lightning tree that will soon be a weapon in and of itself. “I’m here! I’m here!” He won’t make it. Not with that leg in the night. He will never make it in time. “Peeta!”

-

I’m rattled by the turn in the conversation. The implications that I could so readily dispose of Peeta, that I’m in love with Gale, that the whole thing has been an act. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I’m devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning. I let my anger propel me into my greatest demand. “When the war is over, if we’ve won, Peeta will be pardoned.”

-

At the mention of my name, Peeta’s face contorts in effort. “Katniss . . . how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you . . . in Thirteen . . .” He inhales sharply, as if fighting for air; his eyes look insane. “Dead by morning!”

Off camera, Snow orders, “End it!” Beetee throws the whole thing into chaos by flashing a still shot of me standing in front of the hospital at three-second intervals. But between the images, we are privy to the real-life action being played out on the set. Peeta’s attempt to continue speaking. The camera knocked down to record the white tiled floor. The scuffle of boots. The impact of the blow that’s inseparable from Peeta’s cry of pain.

And his blood as it splatters the tiles.

-

I poke around in the pile, about to settle on some cod chowder, when Peeta holds out a can to me. “Here.” I take it, not knowing what to expect. The label reads LAMB STEW.

I press my lips together at the memories of rain dripping through stones, my inept attempts at flirting, and the aroma of my favorite Capitol dish in the chilly air. So some part of it must still be in his head, too. How happy, how hungry, how close we were when that picnic basket arrived outside our cave.

-

In the fluorescent light, the circles under his eyes look like bruises. “There’s still time. You should sleep.” Unresisting, he lies back down, but just stares at the needle on one of the dials as it twitches from side to side. Slowly, as I would with a wounded animal, my hand stretches out and brushes a wave of hair from his forehead. He freezes at my touch, but doesn’t recoil. So I continue to gently smooth back his hair. It’s the first time I have voluntarily touched him since the last arena.

“You’re still trying to protect me. Real or not real,” he whispers.

“Real,” I answer. It seems to require more explanation. “Because that’s what you and I do. Protect each other.” After a minute or so, he drifts off to sleep.

-

“Katniss!” He whips his head toward me but doesn’t seem to notice my bow, the waiting arrow. “Katniss! Get out of here!”

I hesitate. His voice is alarmed, but not insane. “Why? What’s making that sound?”

“I don’t know. Only that it has to kill you,” says Peeta. “Run! Get out! Go!”

-

It’s a long shot, it’s suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. “Don’t let him take you from me.”

Peeta’s panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. “No. I don’t want to . . .”

I clench his hands to the point of pain. “Stay with me.”

His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. “Always,” he murmurs.

I help Peeta up and address Pollux.

-

While Cressida and Pollux make fur nests for each of us, I attend to Peeta’s wrists. Gently rinsing away the blood, putting on an antiseptic, and bandaging them beneath the cuffs.

-

By the time I make it back to the fence, I’m so sick and dizzy, Thom has to give me a ride home in the dead people’s cart. Help me to the sofa in the living room, where I watch the dust motes spin in the thin shafts of afternoon light.

My head snaps around at the hiss, but it takes awhile to believe he’s real. How could he have gotten here? I take in the claw marks from some wild animal, the back paw he holds slightly above the ground, the prominent bones in his face. He’s come on foot, then, all the way from 13. Maybe they kicked him out or maybe he just couldn’t stand it there without her, so he came looking.

[…]

Out of nowhere, the tears begin to pour down my cheeks. “She’s dead.” I clutch my middle to dull the pain. Sink down on my heels, rocking the pillow, crying. “She’s dead, you stupid cat. She’s dead.” A new sound, part crying, part singing, comes out of my body, giving voice to my despair. Buttercup begins to wail as well. No matter what I do, he won’t go. He circles me, just out of reach, as wave after wave of sobs racks my body, until eventually I fall unconscious. But he must understand. He must know that the unthinkable has happened and to survive will require previously unthinkable acts. Because hours later, when I come to in my bed, he’s there in the moonlight. Crouched beside me, yellow eyes alert, guarding me from the night.

-

Peeta, bearing a warm loaf of bread, shows up with Greasy Sae. She makes us breakfast and I feed all my bacon to Buttercup.

-

I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway.

-

Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver.

-

#everlark #thg #thgagain #bookcomb ♥️🔎 #hunger games #katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #catching fire #mockingjay #long post