#n like i could clean it all up this summer but planting in the dead of summer doesnt rly make sense

[daemonmatthias]

despite my best efforts at a schedule and socializing... it’s been one of the hardest summers I’ve had in a while.

some of it is big things, like struggling to stick to any kind of schedule I set for myself due to this being the first year my husband’s work schedule is hybrid (he is home every other week, then I am home alone every other week; if it were just one or the other, I’d be fine), and not being able to go on walks due to the heat.

some of it is nebulous things, like needing to save money but then Sales keep happening on things we kinda need/weird things pop up, and my husband is bored af all day at work and then his mood affects mine because i just am sensitive to other people’s moods, and the fact that we need to formally decide if we are moving out of state soon (husband knows his answer, but I am scared/overwhelmed and will have to quit teaching), and that all this weirdness is making it So Hard to Concentrate on Reading, which is usually my solace in the summer.

but honestly, a lot of it is stupid little things and I don’t understand why so many of them are happening all at once. Just since yesterday morning:

the new avocado I needed to quarter for my usual breakfast smoothies refused to yield the pit, which ended up breaking, and I spent a solid 5 min scraping and slicing to be sure there were no remnants

immediately after I finally got that situated, I grabbed the new carton of almond milk, and it was... somehow sealed wrong?? idk how, but it would NOT open. so I tried opening the side to make a spout (like the little milk cartons from school), but that also would not open cleanly. I ended up needing a knife to slice into it. And then I had to go digging for a pitcher we never use to keep it in since the carton was destroyed.

then my nook crapped out on me. [backstory first: 2 months ago, my nook started randomly resetting itself, which deletes all of your side-loaded content. I ended up having to call customer service. They wanted me to hard reset. It took like 1.5 hours on the phone with them because it SAID it was connected to the wifi but then it wouldn’t do the next step of the set up process because it couldn’t find a wifi connection. Finally the set up process actually went through and they were like “ok all good now!” (right. ok. magically fixed the resetting issue by resetting it. yeah.)] Yesterday, while I was in the middle of reading a library book (considered side-loaded content), it reset itself again, which, of course, deleted the book I was reading.

We agreed last time that if it kept happening, I could get a new nook. Unfortunately, the new model doesn’t come out until september and I’m wary of buying another of the same model in case it has the same problem 2 years in (which is past the warranty period, of course). I did decide to pre-order the new one and pray that hard resetting would again “magically fix” the problem for another 2 months.

This morning, I finally made myself start cleaning the porch. This is terrifying because our porch gathers leaf litter like a mofo and I haven’t cleaned it in ages. There are all sorts of spiders and bugs out there. 

AND of course my gardening gloves have been in an unsealed cart out there. they are shot. i will have to do all this bare handed...

I successfully get the pots of dead plants thrown away. I begin to gather the open bags of dirt to throw them away, having to be extra careful of spiders with my bare hands. A wasp starts flying around me. I try but fail miserably to remain calm and run inside. That chore will not get done today, and today was the last day of below 100F/some cloud cover for who knows how long.

Since I can’t do that chore, I check my amazon cart to see if anything we need got put on prime sale. basically... no. I buy it anyway. or try to; the shipping page keeps crapping out on mobile. I move to my computer and finish the purchase on desktop.

now time to pre-order that nook. except it won’t let me sign in. b&n’s website has so many trackers and shit that it breaks firefox sometimes. (is2g i use nook only because others don’t let you completely turn the backlight off, and as soon as my free year of premium membership is up, I’m going back to using bookshop.org for everything.) I switch to chrome (blech) and sign in.

i press “pay with paypal” and then “complete purchase”. It never pulled up my paypal to let me choose which card to pay with. I have to get into paypal to even figure out which card it payed with. It paid with not the credit card I wanted, not even my default card as selected in paypal, but with our shared checking account. (annoying but no damage done.)

time now to hard reset my nook... oh look, it’s doing the same connected/not connected to the wifi thing. goody...

all this in only the last 30ish hours. and it feels like the whole summer has been like this!

I can’t pretend good things haven’t happened. I visited my family, my bestie visited me and we did a fun craft together, I joined a new public library and love it more than my old one, I hung out with a friend to eat good food and visit a thrift/record store, we FINALLY framed/hung some art and it looks GREAT, I reorganized most of our music so its easier to access, husband made an htpc (home theater computer) so we no longer get youtube ads and he set up plex on it so I can watch the shakespeare plays I have downloaded, I finally made our new 9 delights tracker and it’s almost perfect, I joined my coworker-friend’s book club (bingo card system- good-, but the group read is an author I hate), I crocheted a dog sweater that actually worked (but idk yet if it fits cuz it’s for my parents’ dog), I began the process of switching away from google drive/gmail to something more secure (proton, which I got for almost 50% off).

And there are SO MANY good things coming up: we leave in a couple days to visit the city we might move to, we have tickets to barbie & oppenheimer, we’ll go to a friend’s daughter’s 1st bday party, my besties are coming to visit (museum, escape room, and musical all purchased and lined up!), we’re spending labor day weekend in a luxury cabin in the mountains with friends (owned by one friend’s rich aunt who is not charging/excited to host us), we have tickets to see my fav studio ghibli in theaters in sept., I have tickets to see To Kill a Mockingbird with a coworker-friend, we have ballet tickets for the season...

and yet, I’m struggling daily to complete basic tasks and maintain a positive attitude due to the onslaught of Stupid Little Grievances. :/

#i don't want to tag this a personal because that's one way the bots find you so sorry everyone #i don't have a diary and just needed to get this all said

[blu-joons]

When You Enjoy Gardening ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

Your eyes instantly rolled as you looked back to Jin, noticing the vast majority of the bag of soil that you’d given him scattered across his lap and the floor around him.

“That soil was for the plants, you know?” You called out, making him jump. “You’ve got more of it over yourself then in the pots Jin.”

“It’s not as easy as you make it seem,” he sighed, holding the shovel up in the air, “my hands are too shaky to transfer it from the bag to the pots.”

Your eyes rolled as he showed you his shaking hand, “I know what your doing, you just want to create more mess for me to have to clean up when we’re done.”

His eyes widened at your accusation, instantly shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest such a thing, the mess is nothing more than an honest mistake.”

“If the mess was just a mistake, you can tidy it up in that case, and make sure it goes in the pots this time too,” you smiled back at him.

“Are you not going to help?” He pouted, grabbing the soil from his lap into his hand, “I have to clean all of this alone?”

“It’ll teach you for messing around, not fun now, right?”

Yoongi:

The smell of food greeted you as soon as you walked down the stairs, walking into the kitchen to see Yoongi staring down into the pot that sat on top of the stove.

“That smells amazing,” you complimented, letting him know you’d returned from your shower, “what have you got cooking in there?”

“Stew,” he smiled, stepping aside so you could take a look too. “I thought I’d use up some of those veggies we’ve got growing outback and make something nice.”

You could tell by the smell that the vegetables were all homegrown instantly. “I knew they’d come in good use, especially with your exceptional culinary skills.”

His eyes rolled back at your compliment, “we’ve got carrots everywhere out there these days, not to mention the sweetcorn too, they’re all growing so high.”

“Looks like you’ll be making stew for a while yet then too,” you teased, “you’ll be sick of making stew by the end of the summer too.”

“I enjoy it,” he smiled, stirring the pot once again, “nothing beats a homely meal, especially when the ingredients are homegrown too.”

“That’s very true, there’s something magical about growing them yourself.”

Hoseok:

As yet another call of your name went unanswered, Hobi was sure there was only one place you could be, stepping outside, he was unsurprised to see you in the garden.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he laughed, as your eyes looked up from the plant you were weeding to notice him.

“I’ve only been out here,” you smiled, taking off your gardening gloves. “What did you need me for anyway? Has something happened?” You asked him.

His head shook as he moved to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist, “I just wanted to see you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere in the house.”

A small giggle escaped you, “I can’t believe you looked around the house without thinking this would be the first place that you’d end up finding me.”

“I know, now I realise the garden was the obvious place to look,” he sniggered, “but then I thought maybe you’d surprise me by being somewhere else for once.”

“No surprise this time,” you laughed, kicking away the dead leaves you’d pulled off, “I’m just making sure the kids are ready for winter.”

“Kids? They’re plants Y/N, you really are obsessed.”

Namjoon:

You carefully pushed your new plant aside, making space in the trolley for the orchid plant that you had in your hand, trying to find space for it to go.

“Are we going to need another trolley?” Namjoon questioned, resting against the handlebars, “this is thing is getting surprisingly heavy too.”

“Do you want me to push it for a while?” You offered, only for his head to shake. “I did warn you that I had plenty of pots that I wanted to fill.”

His head nodded, remembering exactly what you’d said as you left the house. “I just never imagined it would take this many plants to fill them all up.”

Your eyes flickered across to him as you managed to squeeze the orchid in. “I only need a couple more to go in the hanging basket, and then I’m done.”

“And who’s going to be the one to carry all of these into the house?” He questioned, although he was already certain of the answer.

“I love you,” you teased, grabbing onto the trolley to get Namjoon moving again. “I’ll help you out, I promise, don’t worry.”

“Your lucky I love you, I bet some of these weigh a tonne.”

Jimin:

The moment Jimin placed his hands into the bag of soil, he instantly regretted. His nose turned up as he pulled his hands out, noticing just how messy they were.

“I did tell you there were gloves in the shed,” you reminded him, unable to hide your laughter at the disgusted expression that he wore.

“I know,” he sighed, “I forgot.” He quickly brushed his hands as best as he could to get the soil off, but it didn’t really seem to do the trick.

His eyes looked to you helplessly. “Just go and run them under the tap and they’ll be nice and clean in no time. You might have to scrub a bit at your nails though.”

A loud sigh came from him as he rose to his feet, “how come gardening always looks pretty, when it actually is anything but pretty Y/N?”

“It is, when you wear the gardening gloves like you were told to,” you yelled back at him, “all of this is your own fault Jimin, you should’ve listened.”

“I hate when your right,” you overheard him mutter under his breath as he walked back into the house, “I should’ve listened.”

“Yes, you should. Now hurry, those roses won’t plant themselves.”

Taehyung:

Your head nodded, although as Taehyung spoke, you struggled to pay attention to what he was saying, having listened to him speak for the majority of the past hour.

“What do you think?” He questioned, turning the piece of paper that he held to show you the drawing that he’d created. “Good, right?”

“Have you really spent the last hour designing the layout of this garden?” You questioned, unsurprised when his head nodded back at you.

He smiled proudly at his design, “this is your thing, the plants can’t be the only thing looking nice, the whole garden has to. And that’s where my creative mind is useful.”

As confused as you were, the thought was very much there. “I guess we should get shifting some pots and see how this design looks then.”

“Wait, you think I’m going to shift the pots?” He gasped, tapping the piece of paper, “I’ve got to tell you where they go Y/N.”

“No way,” you smiled, taking the paper from him, “you’re not getting away with doing none of the heavy lifting either.”

“Well, this really has backfired in the long run I think.”

Jungkook:

His smile grew as he walked into the living room to see you writing down your annual list of plants, making notes as to when best to grow what you wanted to.

“Potatoes first,” you hummed, unaware of Jungkook’s presence behind you until you heard him agree with you, taking a seat on the sofa.

“I don’t really know what that means, but you always sound right when you talk about your plants,” he admitted as he met your eyes.

Your hand pushed against his arm, “I’m just trying to figure out when’s best to plant everything up, with summer coming, it’s getting close to planting season now.”

His head nodded, although he was still a little confused by it all. “Do you want to head to the garden centre this weekend and go and pick a few things up?”

“Really?” You questioned doubtfully, “you’re usually the one that complains about the garden centre and having to get all of the plants.”

“I do,” he laughed, “but I also remember last year you complaining that some of the stuff you bought was too heavy to carry.”

“That’s true, your muscles will come in handy, thank you.”

---

Masterlist

#bts #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts scenario #bts reactions #bts scenarios #jin imagine #yoongi imagine #hoseok imagine #namjoon imagine #jimin imagine #taehyung imagine #jungkook imagine #jin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts fluff #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #kpop #kpop imagine

[mcwriting]

it's just part of the job

This is a once shot based on a request by @laurentrvn! I really loved the idea and tried to stick as closely to the prompt given, so I hope you enjoy!

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1248

Warnings: can't think of any, it's pure fluff

><

You were exhausted, to be frank.

It was just past 2 a.m. in yours and Tom's London home as he prepared for a late night TV interview based in Los Angeles.

The show was taping his part at 8 p.m. their time, which converted to 3 a.m. yours during the summer months.

Normally it wouldn't have been that big of a deal.

You were so proud of Tom for his upcoming film, but you were actually in the middle of shooting your own movie in the city, something you'd been busy doing all day long.

Crazy hours are just part of the job, though.

The interview wouldn't be long, so you'd agreed to stay up with your boyfriend and make sure he was well styled so he wouldn't have to call other people to the house in those early morning hours.

Thankfully, you were going to have a two-day work break anyways as your film's scripts went through some minor rewrites.

Because of the ridiculous hour, your stomach had decided that 2 a.m. was the perfect time for a snack, so while Tom dressed you had decided to scrounge around the kitchen until you found something good.

You brewed some tea in the meanwhile, both you and Tom deciding that this wasn't an ideal time for coffee, especially considering you hadn't slept in at least 20 hours.

You walked into the bedroom, a small tray in hand with the tea and snacks stacked carefully.

"Hey I got some fruit and some cookies but let me know if- woooow..." you said, brows raised once you saw Tom's outfit in the reflection of his full-length mirror.

He'd chosen to dress in a shirt you loved, a button up with thick vertical stripes tucked into some grey slacks, an outfit which was reminiscent of 70s fashion.

You had to laugh at the fact that he was even wearing pants, though. Unfortunately he'd learned the hard way what it was like to forgo pants on a zoom meeting, so he swore to wear them for any video call from now own.

Who knew, he might even be asked about it in his interview tonight after his boxers had previously gone viral.

Tom turned and smiled at your pleased reaction, walking towards you. After you set the tray down, he snaked an arm around your waist and planted one kiss on your forehead and another to your lips.

"Think I look good, eh?"

"I'm loving the fit, but we need to put a little makeup on you," you said, shimmying from his grip and disappearing into the bathroom to find the foundation his stylist had explicitly told him to use tonight.

When you returned, he was indulging in a chocolate chip cookie, the crumbs all over his mouth.

"While you finish that, I'm going to start on your forehead," you explained as you began dabbing a beauty blender along his hairline. After a few minutes, he had an even layer painted over his face and neck.

"Am I done now? I'm supposed to log onto the call soon," he pouted.

"Almost, I just need to swipe on a little blush and neutral eyeshadow and you'll be all set," you answered, focused on picking out a blush color that would look natural on camera.

"I don't even get why I need makeup. They're going to be seeing me from my shitty computer camera and office lights. I mean look at you. You're not wearing makeup and you look great!"

You paused brushing a light rouge over one cheek to give him a half lidded look.

"Nice try, but we both know I look like I was run over with a truck," you joked.

It's not like you were even trying to sound self-deprecating, it's just that you had been awake far too long after having done a physically taxing shoot all day.

The second you'd gotten home, you'd showered and gotten rid of any trace of makeup, leaving you bare faced with damp hair that wet the collar of your old t-shirt.

"Well I think you look beautiful," Tom reiterated, kissing your forehead again as you went to grab eyeshadow.

You hummed in response and quickly brushed a light tan color over his eyelids to complete his look.

"Okay, all done. You did a good job on you hair," you commented, still instinctively reaching up to reposition a curl.

"Well that's perfect, because I need to get logged on. Why don't you relax and I'll come get you when I'm done, yeah?"

You nodded and let him go, watching him head across the hall as you sat at your vanity, sipping on the tea you'd made for yourself.

><

Though it took almost 30 minutes of sound checking and ensuring a good connection, Tom's interview had only lasted about 10 minutes.

When asked about the time in London, he'd only had one answer:

"It's just part of the job"

As expected, he'd had to show off his pants and make sure everyone knew he was wearing them despite the wee morning hour. Also unsurprisingly, he'd been asked where y/n was, explaining her taxing day and praising her for helping him get ready.

Once he closed up his laptop, he got up and turned out the office light. He then untucked and unbuttoned his shirt, ready to put on some comfy clothes and get in bed.

"Hey I'm don-" he paused and stopped in the doorway, grinning.

In the 40 or so minutes since he'd left you, you'd fallen asleep with your head down on the vanity, a half-eaten cookie in hand and your hair splayed all around the desk.

"Darling, are you awake?" he asked in a whisper, his hand gently placed over your shoulder, to make sure that you weren't just resting your head.

When he got no response, he knew you were actually asleep.

Tom quickly removed his unbuttoned shirt and exchanged his slacks for sweatpants. He also haphazardly took a makeup wipe to his face, knowing that leaving makeup on his face would cause it to break out.

Once he was cleaned up, he came back into the room to take care of you, starting by removing the cookie from your hand and placing it back on the tray.

He sat you up, your head rolling backwards until his hand could catch it. Thankfully you hadn't scooted the seat forward at all, so all he had to do was hook an arm below your knees and the other around your back.

He stood with a little huff, your dead weight no match for his strength.

Though you were asleep, your head instinctively turned into his chest as he transferred you a few feet and laid you gently on the bed where he had folded back the covers.

The missing warmth of his skin awoke you as he shuffled to the other side of the bed, so you stretched and yawned.

"Sorry that I woke you love, I was trying to be gentle," he whispered, sliding onto the mattress as you rolled to face him, still exhausted.

"It's okay. How did it go?"

"Amazing of course," he punctuated the statement with a forehead kiss. "He asked what you were up to."

"Hmm. What did you say?" you asked, cozying up to Tom.

"I told him you were out partying while I worked all day, as usual," he joked.

You snorted, not having the energy to fully laugh at his joke.

"It's just part of the job," you retorted. You were starting to slip away again.

"G'night, Tom. Love you," you slurred hazily.

"Good night, darling. I love you, too."

><

A/N: Ugh this was so cute are you kidding me??? Pretty much all the credit goes to @laurentrvn like I said before. I was given pretty much the backbone of this fic and just filled in the missing pieces, so I hope it's what you were imagining with this!

Thanks for reading!

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#it's just part of the job #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot

[fvrxdrm]

I Like the Way - NSFW (Jesse McCree x Reader) {Part 2}

Pairing: Jesse McCree x F!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW

Setting: Post-fall, a bit closer to the recall

*****

Jesse McCree kissing you out of nowhere was one thing that got you feeling so giddy, but having to kiss him with so much anticipation dripping was something you only got to experience in your fantasies.

It was a late summer night when you agreed to have a bit of a shut-eye and pulled over to the side of a road that wasn’t popular amongst the townsfolks. You were fagged out as fuck. But even though you felt like you would just pass out out of nowhere while driving through the empty roadways, you couldn’t fall asleep for some reason. It was like adrenaline was pumpin’ inside you and refused to give you a rest. Something’s bound to happen, you thought. If your body wouldn’t shut the fuck up then something had to happen. And so, there you laid, on the back of your pickup truck with McCree’s flesh and blood arm wrapped around your shoulders and your head resting on his chest.

Well, that was five minutes ago…

I would’ve said the same had you not been making out and literally tearing clothes off.

Jesse had you bare beneath him, vulnerable and quivering at the nip of the biting air. A bright shade of red crept across your cheeks and you couldn’t but smile coyly at the intense stare McCree didn’t even make an effort to hide. “Yer so fuckin’ gorgeous, darlin’,” he candidly whispered, his accent appearing more blatant. Your cheeks burned a bit too much.

You stuttered out, “y-you don’t look so bad yourself.” McCree chuckled at your response but stopped when he felt a cool gush of wind kissing his thick ass cheeks.

“Well,” he grunted, “I ain’t lettin’ that cute li’l butt of yers freeze over.” You chortled at his words as you watched him bury you both in a thick blanket you had stolen from a motel a few towns away from where you were.

“Mmm…you can always warm me up, cowboy,” you said with what you hoped was a seductive and sultry voice – which seemed to work since you saw him turn into a tomato himself - and winked. Jesse shook his head to bring himself out of his daze and cleared his throat before he spoke, his voice dropping a few octaves lower.

“Oh, pumpkin, I ain’t passin’ up on such opportunity,” and without any other words, he began planting kisses on your cheek, lips slithering down your jawline and neck where he pinned a tiny patch of your skin between pearly-white teeth and began nibbling and sucking on it as he got your breathy moans and needy hands by heart. He caught a small bead of perspiration with his tongue and licked it clean while his devil eyes held yours, tempting you with your own emotions.

“Fuck, you really know how to get a woman going, huh?”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

Jesse locked his lips with yours, not even hesitating to greet you with his tongue and letting your wet muscles dance in a smooth tango while the flesh surrounding them closed every now and then. All the while, his hands went on a journey of discovering parts of your body he wouldn’t even dare touch (unless you're really fucking drunk???), though tempting, when he still had no knowledge of what you exactly felt; whether it was merely romantic and fluffy or you had pitched in a spice of lust and ardor. He was a hungry man, packed to the gunnels with needs and wants, and he would like to take in as much of you as possible to stuff his head with such intimate moment until you pull up on the next stop.

You felt McCree’s cock glide deliciously against your sleek pussy, the tip prodding your clit. And before you could stop yourself, you broke away from the kiss and threw your head back with a high-pitched moan, your fingers grasping his biceps tightly as his name escaped your lips.

“You like that, huh?” His hips ground against yours again and you bit your lip to muffle out the sounds that protruded out of your mouth. “C’mon, baby girl, lemme hear those moans. God, you’re already so fuckin’ wet.” He repeated his actions a few more times before whispers of pleas invaded his right ear.

“Please, Jesse, show me…show me how you really feel about me.” Jesse raised his head from where it was nuzzled against your neck, looked down at you with the inner tips of his eyebrows tipped upwards for a moment, and leaned into your touch when your palm rested itself on his cheek and your thumb wiped a single tear that streamed down his face.

He felt like a child all of a sudden. He felt exposed. Nobody in his life had ever considered how he felt and asked him to be open about it, except for you. He was always known as this cocky, smug, and derpy cowboy who knew nothing but flirt around with his head held up high. He was known as this gunslinger who really knew his way around his revolver like how he knew every detail of the back of his hand and a somebody who liked to smoke a lot as a vice to keep himself occupied whenever he did nothing but stand around.

He was in Deadlock a certain amount of percentage of his life and hell, what do you expect from them? Blackwatch? That was just another gang, just with more rules. Faces there were always stoic and everybody barely had interactions unless they were talks about a mission or a job well-done or sometimes even the opposite of that. You and McCree seemed to be the only ones with the softest hearts and you instantly became as thick as thieves the moment you started talking about bad movies.

And though it may seem like it was smallest thing to cry about, his heart swelled with emotions and he silently thanked the gods for having you watch his back, and he yours.

“You’re only human, Jesse. You feel emotions just like me and I want you to show them. Show me how you really feel.” His eyelids pressed together like crumpled paper and he took a moment to press his forehead against yours and take everything you said in, his metal hand finding yours and holding on tightly as if it was the last thing he’ll ever grasp until the world ends. “I love you, McCree.” His breath shuddered.

He knew his words weren’t enough to express himself to you so he made a decision to just show it to you like how those cliché rom-coms always taught him. With his body pressed to yours with such intimate desire, he led his right hand towards his hardened dick and stroked himself a few times before he slowly pushed into you, the prosthetic that grasp your flesh pinning your hand beside your head.

“Jesse!”

You both groaned in the night, the stretch between your thighs sending electricity through your nerves and the velvety walls that surrounded McCree’s cock sending white noises to his brain. He laid on top of you for a moment to steady his breath intake before his hips started moving in a steady pace.

It was unusual for McCree to be that slow with his pacing. He was more of the pin-you-down-and-fuck-you-relentlessly-until-you-come-and-scream-his-name type (you’d already experienced this one time when you two got pissed out of your mind, though you couldn’t really remember it) and sometimes he would legit leave marks all over his partner’s skin to remind them of who fucked them like a god, but tonight, this didn’t seem to be his aim. His aim was different, so different, and it seemed like it was a result of something stirring inside of him. He silently begged to be closer to his partner, you, and he hadn’t done this before. He whispered so many sweet nothings in your ear and he looked as though he enjoyed your warmth. He was telling something, something beautiful and rare to him.

Jesse McCree was making love to you.

His thrusts weren’t as frantic as how they usually were but they were firm and you loved it. The thought of him opening up to you just like how you told him to made you arch your back and dig your nails on his skin, responding to his zephyr-like words with a few of your own until you felt a coil twisting in a gratifying discomfort. You bucked your hips up with the same manner as his own up to the time of the  knot in your stomach snapping and your eyes being blinded with something white. The way your walls stuttered around him made him groan and he suddenly grew obsessed with you. And with a last vigorous snap of his hips, he came, growing limp on top of you and pressing a kiss on your sweaty skin.

“I love you, Jesse.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Jesse took a minute to retrieve all air that came out of his lungs and was about to get off of you when your phone suddenly started ringing. You looked at each other, puzzled as to who could’ve gotten your number and called you at such a late hour. You grabbed the buzzing device from the pocket of your shorts and took a glance at the screen to see an unknown number.

“Hello?” You carefully spoke after answering the phone and putting it on speaker. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in mended with its cooler counterpart once you heard the voice of a familiar friend.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s Winston!”

“Hey, monkey!” The cowboy yelled to your phone.

“Oh, hey, McCree. Good to hear you two have been going around together.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better to go around the world with your friend than alone, right?” You smiled.

“Correct. Anyway, I’m just gonna make this quick, I know it’s late there, but um… We’re reforming Overwatch again!” Your eyes widened in surprise and you looked at McCree to see his bulging out too. Overwatch? Starting over?

“Really?”

“Uhuh. Can’t wait to see you two! Oh, and don’t forget to remind me to walk Y/N down the aisle once you two got married. Bye!”

“Wait-“ You exclaimed but the sound of the call ending cut you off. You both were dead silent for a split second until Jesse started laughing out of nowhere.

“Well, we’re gettin’ the band back together.”

“Mhm, and we’re going back together too!”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’.”

#jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree #mccree x reader #mccree

[pastrnaks-sainz]

Get Your Frustrations Out on Me

Pairing: Charlie McAvoy x reader 

Type: Smut 

Warnings: Smut, swearing, oral (m receiving), blowjob, fingering, 18+ 

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: You and Charlie were strictly friends with benefits. It had started from a drunken one night stand that turned into something a little bit more. After a rough day at work, you were in desperate need of Charlie’s touch. 

Smut Prompt #65: “There are only two reasons you’d call me at one in the morning and judging from the way you’re dressed nobody’s dead” 

A/N: I feel personally victimized by that GIF this man is so pretty

~~~~ 

It was past midnight and you were still awake. Normally, you were out like a light by ten. But not tonight. You had had one of the worst days anybody could possibly imagine. A total dickhead working on a project with you undermined the entire thing and absolutely fucked you, and numerous other people, over for the rest of the month. 

You mulled the idea over in your head for the third straight hour. Your phone was sitting right beside you, it would be an easy call to make. Charlie would probably still be awake, he never seemed to be sleeping during the summer. 

By the time the blinking red numbers on the alarm clock on your night stand hit one, you caved. You reached for your phone and tapped Charlie’s contact. 

“Hello?” he answered on the second ring. 

“Hey,” your voice was tense. “Uhm, can I come over?” 

You could almost see Charlie smirking on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah,” he was quick to respond. “You know your way up.” 

You felt like your head was underwater as you made the drive over to Charlie’s apartment. Few other cars were on the road, but it was still Boston so you didn’t get there as quick as you would have liked to. 

The elevator moved too slow for your liking, but you were soon knocking on Charlie’s door. 

“There are only two reasons you’d call me at one in the morning and judging from the way you’re dressed nobody’s dead,” he said as he opened the door. You looked down at your silk sleep shorts and tank top. “Come in.” 

Your lips were on his the second the door was shut behind you. His eyes widened in surprise before he gently pushed you off of him. 

“Hey, slow down,” he said, his hands on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I’m just frustrated.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” you shook your head. “I just need to get my frustrations out.” 

“I can do that,” Charlie smiled, kissing you again. He was gentle, letting you set the pace you wanted to move at. You tangled your fingers in his hair and shoved him against the wall. He let out a soft moan that you claimed as you kept kissing him. His hands rested on your hips, his fingers sure to leave bruised. 

“Bedroom. Now,” you commanded breathlessly. Charlie nodded and connected your lips again, walking backwards towards his bedroom, relying on muscle memory to not let him bump into anything. 

You reached the bedroom unscathed, and instantly shoved him down to the mattress. He landed with a small grunt. 

You pulled your tank top over your head and discarded it somewhere in the room before crawling up his body. Charlie’s hands migrated from your hips to your ass where they played with the soft flesh. Your lips attacked his neck, peppering kisses and leaving behind purple hickeys. Groans and pants ripped from his throat. You balled his t-shirt in your fists. He sat up and pulled it over his head and tossed it to the ground with your tank top. 

“I’ll never get over this,” Charlie whispered huskily before attaching his lips to one of your nipples. You whimpered, tossing your head back in pleasure. 

His hands and lips worked you to cloud nine before you came back down and resumed your actions. You planted your hands against his chest and pushed him back down the bed. You kissed down his chest, lips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Charlie was a groaning mess by the time you followed his happy trail down to the waistline of his shorts. You hooked your fingers over the edge and pulled them down his legs. His cock sprung free, a bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip. 

“Y/N, please,” Charlie whimpered helplessly. 

You licked a wide stripe along the vein on the underside of his dick before taking him in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his lip, using his moans to keep going. Inch by inch, you took him in your mouth until you couldn’t fit any more. 

Charlie’s moans grew louder as you hollowed your cheeks around him. You threw your forearm over his hips to keep him in place and stop him from bucking deeper into your mouth. His thighs started shaking when you bobbed your head up and down. 

“Jesus,” he muttered. The muscles in his abs clenched as he tried to keep himself together. 

You pulled off your hip, moving to kitten lick his tip before taking him again. 

“God, Y/N,” he moaned. “I’m close. I’m so, so close.” 

You hummed around him, the vibrations sending him over the edge. Hot ropes of seed hit the back of your throat. You swallowed and let him fall from your mouth. 

“Always so good,” Charlie pulled you up and kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. He used the leverage he had against you and flipped you onto your back. 

“Charlie-” 

“Let me take care of you too,” he hummed seductively. You relaxed into the pillows as he kissed his way down your body. He slowly pulled your shorts off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He kissed above the elastic waistline before taking it in his teeth and pulling it off too. 

His rough hands spread your legs apart, exposing your dripping pussy to him. He licked his lips before pressing his index finger to your clit. You jumped in surprise, not expecting the sudden pressure. 

Charlie dragged his finger through your slick folds before finally pushing it inside you. You groaned, your hands moving to lace through Charlie’s hair. 

“More, please,” you whimpered, arching your back off the mattress. Charlie threw his forearm over your hips just as you had done to him and added another finger. You moaned loudly. 

He trailed his lips up the inside of your thigh, nipping at the skin and leaving small purple bruises. His fingers pumped in and out of you, making obscene noises. Your thighs began to shake under his touch. Charlie, with his surprisingly acute knowledge of your body, knew you were close. He was hard just from seeing your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“Come on, baby,” Charlie cooed. “I know you’re almost there.” 

With one sharp twist of his fingers, he hit your g-spot making you spasm around his digits. He smirked to himself as he watched you come undone. He sucked your cum off his fingers, making you moan again as you made direct eye contact with him. 

“So sweet,” he hummed, voice thick with lust. 

“Charlie,” you reached out for him. He laced his fingers with yours and pinned your hand to the mattress beside your head as he crawled on top of you. Your legs came to wrap around his hips. 

His lips connected with yours as he reached to his nightstand for a condom. He kneeled above you as he ripped it open and slid in on. You gulped, your eyes darted from his dick back up to his face. 

He took your hand again and slowly slid inside you, both eliciting pornographic moans. He stilled for a moment, before rocking hips back and forth setting a smooth pace. You moved your hips to meet his, making each thrust hit deeper. 

“God, Charlie,” you moaned. He squeezed your hand and kept going. 

A thin sheen of sweet covered his chest as he placed a hand on the headboard to keep his balance. He grunted as his pace sped up. You felt him hit that spot inside you with every thrust. The muscles in his lower back flexed every time he moved. 

Even though he felt like he could for hours longer, he knew he was close to his edge. He never could last very long very long when he was with you. You were the same way. He always seemed to be able to reduce to a moaning mess within minutes. 

“Charlie,” you whimpered, clinging to his bicep as your body spasmed around him. He came seconds after you with a loud moan. He pulled out and landed beside you on the mattress before quickly rolling off and disappearing into the bathroom. He came back with a damp washcloth in hand. Your breathing returned to normal as he cleaned up. You found your strength and stood up when he went back to the bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” he asked when he came back and saw you pulling on your clothes. 

“Going home like I usually do,” you answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Oh,” he said, feeling his heart sink. “Do you, maybe, want to stay?” 

You froze. 

“You’re asking me to stay with you?” 

“I mean, yeah,” Charlie shrugged. “You seemed really upset, I don’t want you to feel like you need to go home.” 

You looked at him in confusion. 

“I mean, a quick fuck is great and all but cuddling is where the real comfort is at,” he grinned. You giggled and finished pulling your tank top over your head. 

“Alright,” you agreed, moving to climb back in bed. 

“Wait,” Charlie stopped you. “Use the bathroom if you need to, take a shower if you want, I’m going to change the sheets.” 

You took him up on his offer to use the shower. The warm water felt amazing as it washed over your tense muscles. When you stepped out, there was a warm towel waiting for you and a pair of what you assumed to be Charlie’s sweatpants. The ‘73′ in gold lettering proved your theory correct. They too were warm when you pulled them on. 

“Did you throw these in the dryer or are your clothes naturally this comfortable?” you asked as you walked out of the bathroom, depositing your used towel in the hamper next to the closet. 

“I put them in the dryer,” Charlie affirmed. “Are they comfortable enough for you?” 

“These are literally the softest things I have ever worn.” 

“Come on,” Charlie smiled, opening his arms as he made himself comfortable in bed. “Cuddle with me.” 

“You’re adorable,” you sighed as climbed in beside him, your head resting on his chest. 

“I know.” 

Despite Charlie’s smooth answer, he was waging a full scale war in his brain. Over the course of your friends with benefits endeavors he had slowly fallen for you. He knew you promised not to ever let that happen, but this was something he couldn’t avoid. He knew, he tried. 

#charlie macavoy #x reader #charlie mcavoy x reader #nhl x reader #nhl x female reader #Smut #charlie mcavoy smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #one shot #charlie mcavoy one shot #nhl one shot #hockey oneshot #imagine #charlie mcavoy imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #fanfiction #charlie mcavoy fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #Hockey Fanfiction

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 5

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

GET. READY. This is a bigger chunk but I really think it’s worth it. 

Title: Dreams, Chapter 5

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5343

Summary: Dean’s birthday proves easier than expected in some ways and harder in others. 

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, alcohol, s l o w  b u r n

           Sam pulled back from you, opening one eye drowsily. “Are you okay?” he says, voice gritty with sleep.

           “Yeah, I…he didn’t die,” you breathed, confused.

           He cleared his throat. “What?”

           “He always dies. He fell off of Bobby’s roof, but he just broke his ankle, he, he didn’t die.”

           Sam rubbed his face with his free arm, trying to wake up more in earnest. It was still dark, so it couldn’t have been later than 7:30. You hadn’t been asleep for more than a few hours but suddenly felt beyond alert. “That’s good, right?”

           “I—yeah, it’s good. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

           “Do you want to talk about it?”

           The reflex was to say no, usher Sam back to sleep. But your reflexes had already been wrong once today. “Can we?”

           The way Sam kept the surprise off his face was admirable. It was the first time you’d agreed to talk about the nightmares that plagued you since losing Dean. He propped himself up on his elbows and flicked on the small lamp beside the bed. “What happened?”

           You told Sam all about the dream, sparing only the details you couldn’t really remember or only made dream-sense, like the way you knew it was 4th of July weekend without having been told. He listened thoughtfully, the focus obvious in his expression. He waited a long beat when you were done, sure not to step on your moment of vulnerability.

           “What do you think it means?” he asked gently.

           You thunked back onto your pillow to gaze up at the popcorn ceiling. “I don’t care, to be honest.” The almost-dark made fuzzy static pulse in your vision. “I think I’m going to write about it, actually,” you said, and startled yourself.

           “Oh, uh, okay,” Sam said encouragingly. “Do you want me to—” he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

           “No, no. I’ll be back in a little bit, see if you can go back to sleep.”

           Sam nodded with more than a little concern and you climbed over him, yanking an old sweatshirt out to throw over your wilted tee and scampering off to the kitchen table.

           The house was ice cold and dark aside from the ever-present Christmas lights and you could feel the needles that had begun to drop from the tree under your bare feet, rapidly cooling on the cheap flooring. You picked up the notebook and pens Sam had gotten you and sat down at the kitchen counter to write.

           In the days that followed, the constant and varied nightmares of Dean’s deaths returned. When you woke up, more and more often making it to the morning, you kept writing to Dean about them and sometimes your day as a way of processing. You never ‘told him’ about exactly what happened and tried to focus on the sweet things you remembered that made the worst dreams a tease, moving them to your daytime memory and trying to wash away the despair the nightmares left you clawing through.

            By the middle of January, you and Sam had fallen mostly back into old patterns. The Christmas lights were still up, a sort of night light against the long Midwestern nights, and you couldn’t help feeling a small sense of despair sweeping up loose pine needles when Sam was in the shower every day. You didn’t want the winter to end, as weird as that sounded with the ice and chill and fingertips that never warmed all the way. It felt like if you moved into spring that you were leaving the time-out that you’d created and would have to figure out a longer-term solution than this rented cabin, all thin drywall and poorly insulated ceilings. Even your jobs didn’t feel permanent, the summer vacationers sure to come back and reclaim their spots in the town as it came back to life with the plants.

           The ‘mostly’ was that the boundary you broke with Sam never truly came uncrossed. When you were washing dishes he would come stand behind you, the heat of his lips seeping into the shoulder of your old sweatshirts. You’d intertwine your fingers with his while he drove, realizing only when you went to open the car door and found yourself tangled, or running your hands through his hair while he read next to you on the sofa. You never met Sam’s eyes in these moments—somehow it felt like a secret, private thing that would collapse into dust if gazed upon, some sweet, small creature you were protecting. Neither one of you talked about it in the time since that tequila-soaked night.

           As much as you’d needed to be close to him before, you began craving Sam in a way that scared you. You’d always found him beautiful in the way you admire someone you love, but you caught yourself taking notice of the pillars of muscles along his back when he broke down stock boxes and the dark swoop of his eyelashes. The comments about how lucky you were to have him that used to make you nervous your cover was about to be blown started to make you ache a little with fear and something you couldn’t place. You felt a bizarre flick of jealousy when some twenty somethings drinking White Claw dragged their eyes over him at the bar before leaving on their snowmobiles, like he really was yours to claim. It seemed like a manifestation of your fierce attachment and unresolved grief not only for Dean but your old life with the Winchesters, when they sort of were: your teammates and no one else’s. You resolved it had to be and explained it away without inspection, even when these ‘isolated’ moments became less and less isolated.

           Before you knew it, you were hurtling toward Dean’s birthday.

           “What should we do on Sunday?” you asked early on a Thursday afternoon, trying to keep your voice light and easy while you and Sam got ready for your last day of work for the week.

           “I don’t, uh, I don’t know.”

           “Did you guys ever do anything when you were little?”

           “I mean, not really. Sometimes like a cake or whatever I guess, but Dean was always better at that stuff. By the time we were in our 20s, he only wanted to go meet girls and play up the ‘kiss for the birthday boy’ schtick.” Sam grinned sheepishly as though you didn’t know who Dean had been.

           You couldn’t help but smile, remembering the cocksure half-boy you’d met all those years ago. “Okay, well, if you didn’t have anything in mind, I have a couple ideas.”

           “Oh, yeah, I had only really come up with a cherry pie and a bottle of whiskey.”

           You stood up from the kitchen table and grabbed Sam’s empty plate, leaning into his drying hair for long enough to inhale the minty earthiness of his shampoo. “I mean, that’s a given.”

           In Sunday’s late morning you slipped out of the house while Sam was in the shower, leaving a note behind that said you’d be back in a few minutes. You careened down the road to the quaint main street, running through the list in your head. The grocery store was first for the only bottle of scotch they kept in a tiny plastic container and the fixings for bacon cheeseburgers, then the coffee shop had a cherry pie that looked better to you than whatever pseudo-Entemann’s they had in the limited grocery bakery section. The hardware store had everything else you needed and some extras; you praised the cold climate necessity of having multiple places in town to get gloves and thick woolen socks as you threw a couple on the checkout with the rest of the haul. It was awkward to get everything in the trunk, and you were thankful in this moment that you weren’t trying to drive the little sedan you’d had years ago when it was just you, even as annoying as it was to park the Impala sometimes.

           Back at the cabin Sam was solemnly cleaning up, his eyes red as he wrung out a mop. You took the pie and whiskey out of the bag and put the other groceries away without removing your coat. In truth you only took off the boots you were wearing as a concession to Sam’s mopping, feeling itchy to get back outside and let the complexity of your emotions explode into fresh air unencumbered.

           You tossed a pair of new woolen socks to Sam, who caught them against his chest. “You’re going to want these.”

           “What? Where are we going?”

           “Somewhere I think Dean would’ve liked. Put on some layers, too.”

           Sam obeyed with a crooked eyebrow, coming out of the bedroom a few minutes later looking like a lumberjack catalogue model. You didn’t say anything when you realized the hoodie he was wearing used to be his brother’s.

           “Ready?”

           “I’m not sure, I don’t know where we’re going,” Sam answered honestly.

           You gestured toward the door and he followed you out to the car. Thankfully it had snowed that morning, and tiny billows of powdery snowflakes blew up around each car that you passed on the way.

           The hill was massive. It was a little surprising considering the flatness of the majority of the Midwest, and you’d had to remind yourself that there were some small skiing outfits in the upper half of the state when you’d found it, sure that it was a garbage dump that had been covered lazily in grass seed and left to its own devices. Less impressive surrounding slopes reassured you when you’d scoped it out a few days earlier, and the fresh glittering snow made it look even more spectacular now than you’d remembered. You decided not to push it taking the Impala onto the snow, instead parking at the dead-end you thought was closest.

           “We’re here?” Sam asked, obviously still confused.

           “Yep. Come on,” you said, enjoying the surprise more than you’d thought you would.

           Popping the trunk made it obvious when the bright plastic sleds were wedged in alongside the miscellaneous weapons whose permanent home it was. You watched Sam’s face as recognition dawned, closely followed by a smirk you knew was in large part to humor you. Yanking them out in one big pull, you handed Sam the green one and one of the pair of gloves you’d gotten that morning.

           “These are huge, where did you even find them?” he chuckled, popping the plastic tie between the gloves and sliding his hands into them.

           “You’re huge, it’s not like I can put you on a kid’s one. Besides they must be pretty serious about their sledding up here, these were just from the hardware store.”

           Sam shook his head and waited for you to put your gloves on. They were comically big on you, but you knew you’d regret not wearing any and tried your best to grip the sides of the plastic sled through them as you took off toward the hill. After a few steps, Sam took the sled from you without a word, able to hold it easily with both his well-fitting gloves and the many extra inches between his arms and the ground.

           The walk up the hill was somewhat of a trudge but the way the crisp air sliced through your lungs was a welcome distraction. Snow dampened the ambient noise so all you could hear was Sam’s rhythmic breathing like a mantra, and with one foot in front of the other, by the time you got to the top you felt like you’d been meditating. The view was amazing from the top, a painting or old illustration with its tiny homes and cottages over meandering fields, the snow washing everything out as if you were watching someone else’s dream.

           “Should we race?” Sam asked, the swirled pigment of his irises lit up by the reflection off the snow.

           The next thing you heard was Sam’s laugh behind you as you took a few big strides and jumped onto the sled. Careening down the hill, your hair snapped around, tiny whips cracking into your wind-tenderized cheeks as you tried in vain to steer the sled in slices across the straight pass. Sam’s cackle was distant but comforting over your shoulder. You closed your eyes to feel the speed underneath you and the wind across your face; listen to that laugh that you’d heard so little recently, an old favorite song to be put on repeat. On January 24th of all days it felt like you were being baptized in the clear crystal sound of it.

           When you came to a stop, Sam was only a half second behind you. You fell over in a fit of giggles listening to him play-whine about cheating and “Totally not fair, after I carry your sled all the way up for you!”

           “I’ll beat you again with no head start! Unless you’re chicken,” you taunted, brushing snow off your legs to start back up the hill again. Sam scrambled to his feet, passing you up quickly with his huge strides as you started to run after him. Gasping with laughter and exertion, you and Sam half-wrestled and chased each other to the top, collapsing to your backs like snow angels. After catching your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look over at him.

           “Rematch?”

           Sam’s smile, all straight pearl teeth and cold-flushed cheeks, was as breathtaking as the icy wind as you tore down the run, this time on your stomach with your head low like a bullet, trying in earnest to win again. The front lip of the sled in your fingertips rumbled against little imperfections in the snow. You glanced to check how much of a lead you had on Sam and had barely turned your head before you realized you were also dipping your shoulder, tilting the sled on its greased-lightning path and therefore you with it. Sam was right on your tail and narrowly missed crushing you when you fell off the sled by bailing out of his, your legs tangling together with misplaced velocity. You tried to hold still so you wouldn’t catch his face with a flailing limb, only moving after a beat when it seemed like the collision was over. Sam’s fall seemed to have been more graceful than yours, as he still had a hand on his sled and only a left arm and hair full of snow that he shook loose like a puppy.

           “Are you okay?” he said, getting to his knees to reach out to you.

           You could feel the scrape on your cheek before you got up, but Sam’s wince was only minor when he saw it which was reassuring. He snatched off his glove and brushed snow off your face gently, barely grazing the broken skin. The warmth felt so nice and you would’ve curled up in his palm like Thumbelina if you could. “What’s the damage?” you asked, trying to think about the way your breath puffed up in clouds around you rather than the snowflakes caught in Sam’s eyelashes.

           He was analytical as he took it in, tilting your head carefully in the light. “Doesn’t look too bad. Does it hurt?”

           “Nah. Did you think I’d get soft that fast? I used to get stabbed like once a month.”

           Sam chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Do you want to go home?”

           It didn’t feel as odd as it should’ve, knowing exactly what home meant in this context. “And let you think I only won by cheating? Fat chance!”

           “You don’t even have a sled anymore!”

           You glanced around you and saw your sled sitting smugly an easy 30 yards past the base of the hill. “Gimme a ride?”

           It was a little awkward until Sam sat down on the sled with each heel straddled and digging into the snow, allowing you to crawl between his legs without unintentionally sliding down the rest of the slope. He seemed unsure of himself as he wrapped his arms around your torso, and you hooked your hands around each of his legs to do your part to hang onto him. “Ready?” he asked, his breath warm on your neck.

           When you nodded, he unstuck his heels and you shot like a racehorse down the hill. Sam’s chest was solid as a rock behind you, cushioned with his layers and fastened with his seatbelt arms. You could feel the muscles in his legs moving against your hands, trying to balance the weight of the two of you on the flimsy material. Despite your fall only moments ago, it was safe in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. The ride came to a stop only a few steps away from your cast off sled.

           You turned into Sam to get to your knees before standing up and slipped on a wet patch on the plastic, the melted snow turning the surface impossibly slick. It made you fall forward into Sam, his seated position not giving him enough stability to stay on balance—the sled shifted back underneath the both of you and brushed your lips across his as you ended up with your scraped cheek against the rough canvas of his jacket.

           “I—oh my god I’m sorry,” you stammered, springing back gracelessly.

           Sam looked somewhat like a little kid or a doll, sitting wide eyed with his legs still spread out around you. You stayed back on your knees feeling like you should move slowly, that maybe you could back away unscathed yet. Sam reached his hands out and you thought it was okay, he understood you wouldn’t cross yet another line with him, that it was a simple mistake and he was going to move past it or ask for your help up, and then his heavily gloved hand slid into your hair and he was leaning toward you, the breath that had felt so comforting on the back of your neck as you flew down the hill now on your bottom lip. Your needle-sharp inhale drew that air from him, and you started to feel dizzy. He waited for a moment, searching between your eyes for you to pull back, to turn it into a joke, but you couldn’t. Something in the light pressure of his hand was an anchor and you found yourself glancing at Sam’s lips and slowly, agonizingly, Sam closed the distance between you.

           His lips were so soft and gentle that it made you feel like you were going to cry and then you were crying, just one hot salty tear that stung the fresh abrasion on your cheek as you moved against him, this foreign and scary part of the person you knew the best on this earth. Somehow kissing Sam was exactly how you would’ve guessed it would be—tender and sweet and reverent. The sound dampening of the snow amplified your other senses: the feeling of the cheap Gore-Tex catching one or two hairs as Sam supported your weight, the small brush of Sam’s breath through his nose, the tight flick of the wind against your coats. It was over as quickly as it started, leaving you and Sam staring at each other bewildered while your hair tangled around you.

           You could feel that your eyes were as wide as Sam’s. Completely unable to formulate a thought or feeling, much less something to say, you silently extricated yourself from the sled. Sam did too, staring at it like it was some complicated spell, even turning away from you as you crossed over to your own store-bought chariot. You could read his tension even in his back, the tight stretch of his shoulders as he clutched at the scruff of his neck, and just wanted to make it better.

           “Okay, rematch for real this time? I would say I won’t fall again but, no promises.”

           Sam looked scared when he turned back to you, his voice gruff when he choked out a halfhearted, “yeah, sure” and followed you up the hill. He was far enough behind you that you couldn’t hear his breathing anymore and it took him a little bit to reach you at the peak. His body seemed like it was cracking around him, aging in moments as he shakily got into his sled beside yours. You wanted so badly to tell him it’s okay, it’s just some dumb mistake, we were just goofing off but you knew it wasn’t true and you didn’t want to lie.

           The only thing you could fix your mouth to say was, “Count us down so you can’t say I’m cheating again,” and hope he heard the apology and forgiveness in it.

           Sam obeyed dutifully and you kicked off down the hill, trying to use the speed you gathered and the clarity in the way it split open your lungs to try to understand what had just happened. The same trip that had felt like glorious ages before was over in a second and you were up out of your sled before you remembered you were supposed to be measuring whether you or Sam had gotten down faster.

           “Tie, we’re going again!” you yelled over your shoulder as you did your best to bound through the deep snow up the side of the hill, not waiting to see if he was following you.

           Once again at the top, ragged and out of breath and only a few steps ahead of him, you took a second to collect yourself before putting your sled back in the snow and holding it in place with one foot.

           “I’m sor—” Sam started before you cut him off.

           “Okay, third time’s the charm!” you said with panicked cheerfulness that you knew instantly was too much, but Sam stopped talking and dejectedly sat on his sled next to you.

           You and Sam spent probably an hour more sledding, your legs turning to jello underneath you as you ran up the hill over and over again and your cheeks getting more and more wind chapped, before Sam finally smiled, exasperated at some joke about still beating him up the hill with legs that were half as long. It was all the fuel you needed to keep chipping away at him until the sun started dropping and the chill broke through all your layers.

           The two of you plodded through the snow back to the car together. Gloves and sleds in the trunk, you flopped into the passenger seat with that sudden too-hot feeling of getting out of the wind and tore at your coat to desperately strip some layers. Sam threw his own jacket in the back. Without giving him a chance to protest or hook up his phone, you turned on the tape deck and Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here pounded out like rocky silk.

           “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you murmured. You looked over at Sam, who burst into a kind of frantic laughter that you completely understood. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing either, because of course this was playing during the tense peace on Dean’s birthday in Dean’s car, and then you and Sam were cry-laughing in the rapidly humidifying air of the Impala while Syd Barrett waxed poetic. By the time the second chunks of Shine On You Crazy Diamond started, you were gasping for air and clutching at your sides.

           You drove home after that in relative silence, the fatigue of fresh air and running all afternoon catching up with you. Sam took a shower while you put together burgers, switching spots with you to cook them while you washed up. They were pretty good due in large part to how seriously Wisconsinites take their cheese, bacon, and beef, and you wolfed yours long before your hair had stopped dripping onto the collar of the threadbare sweatshirt you’d changed into.

           The first shot of scotch burned like it always did, offsetting the sweet tang of the cherry pie and reminding you of the way Dean used to taste when you kissed him at the end of a long night. You looked out the window at the last purple glow of the sunset as it turned the evening into deep, endless inky blue.

           “I’ve gotta—I’m so sorry,” Sam spat out like the words were beating their way out of his mouth.

           “You don’t have to be sorry,” you murmured, unable to immediately meet his gaze and looking down at your pie.

           “I just—I can’t—I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he stammered.

           You couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the whole thing. “Join the club.”

           Sam smirked but it was mirthless. “No, I know, but it’s just…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He stabbed a deflated cherry with pursed lips, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. The fork clattered to his plate. “It’s not getting any easier. Every day I wake up and I’m so mad. It’s so fucking unfair that I have to stay here without him because I know that’s what he fucking wanted, and I feel like there’s no point in trying to have anything like good or normal because I’m just running out the clock. And then today’s Dean’s fucking birthday and I kiss his girlfriend—what is wrong with me?”

           The outburst hung in the air, a toxic smoke that excluded everything else. You slammed the rest of your glass of scotch, relishing the way it scalded. “So I’m just Dean’s girlfriend?”

           “No, that’s not what I—I mean I guess—it’s not like you aren’t—I don’t know, it just seems like you’ll always be his girlfriend.”

           “Are you still Jess’s boyfriend?”

           It was the absolute most cruel and wrong thing to say and you regretted the words as soon as they left your tongue and crashed into Sam, not even really knowing why you’d thought them. They distorted his face in incredulity and betrayal but you didn’t back down, maintaining eye contact until he snatched the bottle and refilled both glasses. When he spoke again his voice was gravelly and broken.

           “I guess I deserved that.”

           “Sam, this is fucking weird. It always has been, us being alive without Dean, and if you’re just now getting that then you’re not as smart as I thought you were. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s going on either, but I know that you’re the only thing that’s keeping me from ending up with a bullet in my skull or in a locked ward, so if you’re waiting for me to forgive you for something, for anything you’ve ever said or done, it’s already forgiven. But we’re too tied up together for every tiny redrawing of the boundaries to send us over the edge. Please.”

           “Tiny redrawing of boundaries? I kissed you!”

           “And I kissed you back, Sam! What do you want to do about it? What’s the absolution here? If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you. Take the Impala and I’ll find some other car, I’ll borrow the Kaisers’ other one or something. Or maybe you want me to go and I’ll go; I’ll do anything you want me to. I’ll leave right now, you never have to see me again if that’s what you want but I know Dean loved you and loved me and I don’t think he would’ve wanted you to torture yourself all the time so what is it that you want?”

           “I want us to be fucking normal and I don’t want to feel like I’m cheating with my brother’s girlfriend! I don’t want to have a cover story and I don’t want to keep running away!”

           “Then fucking stop! Stop feeling guilty and talk to me about this stuff!”

           Sam laughed, hard and bitter and choked off.

           “I’m serious. We can’t keep doing this shit, at least I can’t. We need to start talking—about Dean, about everything. It’s like this lump of decay and we’re just spraying Febreze and not dealing with it.”

           Sam’s mouth popped open as he tongued his molars. He bit his lip in frustration before crumpling up his napkin and threw it on top of his half-eaten pie. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

           You weren’t expecting that. For all the ways it had seemed like Dean had been the more emotionally closed off, he was always much easier for you to read than Sam, who managed somehow to talk about things without actually communicating how he felt. It was good if you needed to be supported but made it extremely hard to be there for him. Refilling your glasses a bit more conservatively, you offered up an open palm to let Sam go first. His jaw tensed and he swallowed hard.

           “No bullshit?” he asked.

           “No bullshit. What’s the point of bullshitting anymore? After everything?”

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 6

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[thiscastielhasflown]

day one of j&kcreatorfest (with @expectingtofly)— prompts: diner and road trip cas is a human, he goes on a road trip with dean (who secretly loves guy fieri) and they visit jody who is honestly just a third-wheel. (2.4k)

"Can you move more towards my left?"

Cas stares blankly at Dean who is holding a vintage Polaroid camera up to his eyes and frantically gesturing with his other hand indicating which side for the other man to move towards. Blinking rapidly, Cas nervously looks from side to side before planting his feet in a new spot, kicking up dust onto his newly acquired pair of tennis shoes.

"No no, a little bit more to the right now. Just one more step—"

Cas awkwardly takes baby steps while watching Dean, making sure he's on the right track. His legs still getting used to walking again after their non-stop drive from a small town outside of Billings, Montana since earlier that same morning. Dean insisted they get a head start to the first location before the families end up "taking all of the good parking spots".

This is their first solo hunt since Cas became his current human form, something he still isn't entirely confident with yet — and most likely never will be. After giving himself about a month to recuperate and time to get used to his "new" body, it was probably about time to get back into the swing of things again. Hunting, the only sense of prior reality that has continued to follow him into his new life.

It was clear to Dean the change in Cas' demeanor, noticing that he was sulking around the bunker more often (only during the times when he actually leaves his bedroom), and a certain spark he used to have no longer made its presence. Ultimately, it was Sam who suggested the trip, mentioning that a hunter friend of theirs had called to inform them about a vampire infestation near Billings and politely asked for extra support.

Cas insisted that Sam should be the one to take his place, even offering to stay back in the bunker to give it a deep clean it so desperately needed. In standard Dean Winchester fashion, he patted Cas on the back and said that they'd make a mid-summer vacation out of it. Of course, at this point, Cas had no say on the subject and woke up the next morning with a backpack pre-packed ready for him.

"Ah, there! Perfect! Now stay exactly where you are, don't even think about moving a muscle. Hold your breath if you have to."

With no hesitation, Cas sucks in an exaggerated deep breath and inflates his cheeks to keep the oxygen inside his mouth. Dean rolls his eyes behind the camera before pressing the shutter button that lets out an audible CLICK and coinciding blinding light of the flash going off.

Once the polaroid ejects from the camera, Dean pulls it out and gives it a light shake, letting his camera dangle around his neck by its convenient strap.

"Well, that's as good as we're going to get it,” Dean closes the distance between him and Cas, walking up to turn him back around so he's facing the correct side of the landscape.

The two stand next to each other looking off into the vastness of terracotta-colored canyons carved into the earth below them. Cas has to contain every bone in his body from reaching out to grab the hand of Dean's already brushing up against his.

“Here, can you hold onto this?” Dean hands over the undeveloped photo to Cas, who nods and grabs onto it delicately.

They stand in silence for a couple of minutes basking in their panoramic view, the sound of gleefully screaming children and stern parents echoing around them until Cas finally speaks up, "So where exactly are we again Dean?"

Dean gasps in exaggerated surprise, "Badlands National Park in South Dakota Cas, one of the greatest wonders in the United States and possibly even the world. I'm serious. Take a look here—"

Dean pulls out the complimentary map of the park and flips to the back page, "—a man named Frank Lloyd Wright called the badlands an, “inescapable sense of mysterious". Only a badass like him would make a comment like that. Have you been anywhere else in your life this awe-inspiring?"

Cas pauses, "Yes. Galaxy GN-z11 located about 13.4 billion light-years from here."

Dean opens his mouth to say something before shutting it promptly, giving himself more time to formulate a response, "Well. Alright Mr. Showoff, anything else you wanna share with the class?"

"You asked, so I answered," Cas answers in a monotone voice, "I guess, now that I'm a human, it's the second most beautiful thing I've seen."

"Huh. Then what was the first?"

Don't say it. Cas swallows his inner thoughts and shrugs his shoulders, "It's a secret."

Dean shoves Cas playfully to the side and laughs, "Since when have you started keeping secrets from me?"

Cas fakes a laugh in response and lets his head hang down to cover the tinge of a blush creeping across his face.

"I didn't just bring you here for the scenery, does the name sound familiar to you?"

Cas tilts his head to the side in interest, "Name, Dean? What name?"

Dean sighs and shuts his eyes for a second, “Bandlands, like the movie. I made you watch it."

"Oh yes, I do remember. Starring Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek as star-crossed murdering lovers," Cas turns his head to look at Dean, "Are you insinuating we're like them?"

"N-no, well—not exactly? I mean, we've both killed...things before but I'm not insinuating we should go on a murdering spree. Unless we come across another pack of vamps. But this is our vacation with no work allowed, you hear me?"

Dean claps at Cas' shoulder, giving it a good squeeze before letting go, "Time to head out buddy, better to get on the road now so we can make it to the Corn Palace before it closes."

Cas stands confused as he watches Dean take off on the path towards the area they parked the Impala, "Corn Palace?"

****

Staring into the sun setting over the horizon in front of him as he drives, Dean reaches into his pocket to pull out his cell phone and holds it up to his ear. He lets his eyes raise to look out the rearview mirror while the phone rings.

"Hey Jody, are you home right now?"

Jody hesitates on the other side of the phone, "Odd question but yes I am. Everything okay?"

"We're about an hour out from your homestead and were wondering if the two of us could bunk over tonight.”

"Of course! You and Sam are always welcome to stay over anytime."

Dean looks over at Cas fast asleep in the passenger seat next to him, a souvenir foam cob of corn hat from the Corn Palace gift shop functioning as a comfortable barrier between his head and the window, “No, it’s uh—Cas and I. Sammy isn't with us.”

"Well, that's a change for once. Regardless, I'll leave the front door unlocked. Just come in and make yourself at home."

"Will do, see you soon. Bye," Dean hangs up the phone and places it back in his lap, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to pass the remaining driving time.

Once Dean turns down Jody's familiar street corner he calls out into the darkness of the car, "Cas, can you wake up for me? We're almost at our stopping point of the night."

Cas stirs, making a low humming sound but continues to sleep. Dean curses under his breath and turns into Jody's driveway and parks the car, thinking of the best plan to get not only their bags — but Cas — into the house in one piece.

He decides on starting with the bags first, reaching into the backseat area to grab them off of the floorboard carefully as possible without bonking Cas' sleeping body. Holding onto one in each hand, he exits the vehicle without trying to disturb his sleeping passenger.

"Hey there Dean, good to see ya!" Jody leans in for a hug and Dean maneuvers with the bags to give her a proper hug back, "Where's Cas?"

"Dead asleep in the car. I gotta go—" Dean signals towards the door with his thumb, "wrangle him out of there."

"I'll go put these bags in the guest room, take as much time as you need."

Dean walks off back towards the car, formulating a plan in his head. When reaching the car, he slowly opens the passenger side door and Cas instinctively leans away from it, cuddling up against the center console.

"Cas. Hey Cas, we're at Jody's house," Dean leans in to unbuckle Cas from the seat, jostling him enough in hopes of waking him up, "come on now, if you get up now you can go right back to sleep in a comfy bed."

Cas sleepily grumbles and holds out his arms, to which Dean grabs a hold of and pulls him up from the seat. The corn hat in the process toppling off of his head and onto the seat behind him. Dean pulls Cas' arm around his shoulder and locks his arm around his waist for stability, marching with him up towards Jody's house.

Jody holds the front door open for them, giving Dean a sympathetic look, and whispers, "The guest room is the first door on the right."

With the covers already pulled back, Dean plops Cas into the bed and adjusts his legs, pulling the covers up along with, "Good night," he murmurs before walking out of the room and closing the door quietly behind him.

Jody stands in the area between the living room and kitchen stirring a cup of tea, yawning slightly when Dean enters the living room, "I'm gonna head off to bed, there are leftovers in the fridge so help yourself. You look beat."

Dean scratches at the back of his head in exhaustion, "Been a long couple of days. I'm ready to stretch out on this couch and watch the back of my eyelids."

"Oh, you aren't..." Jody points in the general direction of the guest bedroom.

Dean's eyes widen in embarrassment, "No! I-I mean, Cas is in there, and uh, we didn't get time to talk about sleeping arrangements. So. Yeah. The couch."

"Sorry for...insinuating anything—something. There's a basket of blankets for you to pick from in the closet and I'm going to leave you be now. Get some good sleep, Dean."

"You too Jody, see you in the morning," with a slight wave of his hand, Dean awkwardly watches his friend retreat towards her bedroom. He plops down on the couch and sighs, putting his head in his hands.

****

Cas, Dean, and Jody sit at a tiny table located by the kitchen entrance in one of Sioux Falls’ biggest up-in-coming foodie restaurants, Bread & Circus Sandwich Kitchen — thanks to the exposure from being shown on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, one of Dean's favorite shows. The place was packed to the gills, the trio even had to wait for 45 minutes before getting a table. They only got in this soon because Jody managed to bribe the host with her position within the city.

They skim over the menu, making comments on certain dishes before the waiter finally approaches the table, “Hey there, I’m Jeremy. What can I get y’all to eat?”

Without hesitation, Dean speaks up first, “Guy’s fried chicken sandwich and a side of fries for me.”

Jeremy nods and writes down the order on a pad of paper before point his pen in the direction of Jody, “And for you Ms. Mills?”

“Oh Jer, you should know my usual at this point. The curried cauliflower with an extra side of sauce.”

“Perfect perfect…” he nods his head while writing before flashing a smirking smile at Cas, “Last but not least, what are you havin’?”

“Could I get just the standard burger? Oh, and a side of—”, Cas pauses and leans in closer to the menu to read, “—‘Naughty Fries’ please.”

Dean’s eyes narrow at Jeremy’s clear flirting, but he internally thanks his friend for still being so naive to pick up on the implication.

“I’ll go put these orders in, if you need anything else just flag me down,” Jeremy reaches for their menus and Dean takes this opportunity to shove his at the man a little harder than he should. Payback is sweet.

While their food cooks, the group takes this time to do some catching up with each other. Jody asks about how Sam is doing (“He’s trying to grow a beard and he looks like a grizzly bear” says Dean — Cas agrees to this statement), hunter-related gossip, and about their trip so far.

When Jeremy returns with the food, he sets them in front of each coinciding person before wishing them "good eats" and walks away to tend other tables.

"I've been waiting for this moment for months now," Dean licks his lips before holding the sandwich up to his mouth and taking a decent bite of it, letting out a pleasing crunch sound. Within moments his face changes its expression, lips pursing together with food squished in between each.

“You don’t like it, don’t you?” Jody asks, studying Dean’s reaction to his first bite.

Dean nods and reaches for his drink, using it to wash down the rest of the chewed-up sandwich, “It’s...alright. Not as good as I thought though. Guy made it look a lot better.”

“Switch with me,” Cas speaks up.

“What?”

Cas grabs ahold of Dean’s plate and switches it with his own, picking it up right away and taking a bite of it. Jody looks intently between the both of them, choosing to say out of what’s going on before beginning to eat again.

Dean is left staring with his mouth wide open before looking down at the burger now in front of him, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You ordered a burger because you knew I wouldn’t like the sandwich, right?”

Cas shrugs and continues to eat his new food. Dean shoots a look at Jody to points at the plate in front of him, signaling him to 'eat', which he complies.

Once they're all finished, Jody insists on paying for the food and after arguing at the table, she ends up paying regardless. Wrapping up their conversation, Jody gets a phone call for "official business" leaving the both of them with hugs.

Dean excuses himself to go to the bathroom, telling Cas to go wait for him at the front entrance. Wiping his still-damp hands on his pants, he approaches Cas who is shuffling through complimentary postcards.

"You should get one of those."

Cas jumps and turns to look at Dean, "I can't choose though. Help me?"

Dean grabs one that looks almost like the same part of the badlands they looked out on yesterday, "This one, so you'll never forget."

"I'll never forget this Dean."

****

(original photos i took on my nintendo dsi during my own south dakota bandlands trip that i still somehow have -- dated august 7, 2011)

#j&kcreatorfest #deancas #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #ficlet #jace is typing... #this is the first long fic i have written in almost 10 years #so please be kind to me #but i do love how it turned out

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Hawks x Reader Warnings: NSFW, Apocalypse AU Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4489 A/N: So excited to share with you all my contribution to this month’s bnharem smut server collaboration. I would like to give a big thanks to @candychronicles​ for beta reading this and to @hisoknen​ for introducing me to Fotor. My banner looks so much better now thanks to you. Don’t forget to check out everyone else’s stories here!

If there’s one thing you miss most about the old world it’s the color green. The bright green of trees in the summer, the soft grass you would run through barefoot, the small insects that blend in so well with their surroundings. You haven’t seen any of that in ages. As you run through the woods, all you can see is brown. The moss patterns snaking their way up tree trunks have all disappeared. Dead leaves crunch under your heavy boots and the trees around you are so dry they could catch fire in an instant.

You stop to catch your breath. How long have you been running? Two miles? You’re not sure if you lost the raiders or not. What you do know is that you’re alone, you don’t have much food and if you don’t find a good source of water soon, the oozing cut on your leg will become infected.

You find a tree stump to rest on and take a swig out of your canteen. You’re tired. Your body has never ached this much before. Every muscle is pounding, every crevasse uges to be stretched. As you try to move your left leg, you can’t help but hold back tears. It stings too much. You take the bandana out of your hair and tightly tie it around the slice in your leg. You take a safety pin out of your backpack and secure the cloth. It’s not much, but it will keep pressure on the wound until you can find something to patch it up. You might need to raid someone’s campsite to find a bandage. The thought sickens you. You hate associating yourself with them.

You were the medic of your team, the keeper of all the medicine, bandages and any antiseptic wipes that you came across. Your team members would do the hunting and the raiding and they would come back to base each with an arm full of food and supplies for the lot of you.

Then they started dropping like flies. One of them got sick and wouldn’t get better. Another got an infection that you couldn’t get rid of. You still beat yourself up for his death every time you think about him. One of your teammates went hunting and never came back. Pretty soon it was just you and your team leader. You stayed together for a week. She taught you how to hunt and you taught her what plants were edible and which ones could be used for healing. Then the raiders came and now it is just you.

You close your backpack and stand up. Nothing good will come out of sulking, so you might as well try and make a move on.

As the sun sets, the fiery orange colors swarm across the sky. The moon rises up and slowly comes into view. At least that’s one thing that’s the same from the old world.

Without the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you can feel the stinging of the cut on your leg even more. You limp through the woods at the pace of a tortoise for what feels like hours.

The only food in your backpack is a can of fruit salad leftover from an abandoned grocery store raid. It’s something, but it wouldn’t be enough to subside the growling in your stomach.

A light catches your eye. Smoke rises from the top of the trees. You could go over there and see how many people there are. If there’s only one you might be able to take them on. Two or more could end in a disaster, but if you have the slightest chance of making it out with gauze and a hunk of meat roasted over the fire you might be able to survive the night.

Your eyes squint and you walk forward, trying to get a closer look. You are off your guard when you feel something tug around your ankle and hoist you into the air. You can’t help but let out a small shriek. You are quick to cover your mouth with your hand but you are very much aware that the noise alerted the people near the fire.

“Well well well,” a voice from below you sang. “Looks like I caught a little dove.”

The rope around your ankle is tight. You feel your foot starting to grow numb as the person from below lowers the trap, setting you free.

“Who are you?” You fiddle with the rope but the knot is too tight.

“Allow me.” You look up at the person, the man standing in front of you. He takes out a large swiss army knife and opens the blade. He saws through the rope, careful not to cut you. “Sorry about that,” he says when it’s finally off. “People don’t usually come around here so I’ve never gotten anyone hung up on these bigger traps.”

He extends a hand out for you and you take a moment to study his features. He has messy ash blonde hair that is slightly overgrown. His toned muscles are enunciated by the fact that he is only wearing an undershirt.

You grab his big, slightly sweaty hand and stumble up from the ground.

“Whoa easy there.” His friendly tone of voice hits differently than the other people you have come across throughout your nomadic travels. It’s very soothing, trustworthy. And that makes you worry all the more.

“What do you want from me?” you ask.

The man eyes you up and down. His gaze makes you feel uncomfortable, like he’s eating you up with his eyes.

“What happened there?” He points to your leg and the blood soaked bandana that has begun sliding down to your ankle.

“Raiders.” A one word response that everyone knew meant trouble. “Now answer my question. What do you want from me?” Your voice is sturdy and, in your opinion, threatening.

But the man just laughs. “Trust me, dove. There isn’t much I want from you.” He begins walking back towards his camp site. You watch as he leaves but he stops in his tracks. “Coming?”

--

The man’s campsite was small. A red pickup truck is parked at one end of the clearing. It doesn’t look like it runs anymore. Mud and dirt have been spread along its side to cover up its bright hue.

“So,” the man asks. “Do you have a name?” He is fiddling with the contents in a small lock box as he speaks.

“I’m,” you seath as the pain from your leg begins to get to you. “(Y/n).”

“That’s a pretty name,” the man says. “I’m Keigo. So, (Y/n). Let’s get that cut cleaned up.”

You are confused. People in this day and age aren’t usually nice, especially to stragglers like yourself. “What are you doing?” you ask when you see him come over to you with a cloth soaked in some substance. You pull your leg back out of instinct but your breath hitches again when the stinging returns.

“It’s just an antiseptic,” he says while putting his arms up in defense. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Cautiously, you scooch over to him and rest your leg on a small tree stump.

Keigo slowly pulls his arms back down and kneels on the ground, taking your leg in his firm hand. His hand is warm. It’s big, much bigger than yours, but it has a gentle touch that calms you down as he presses the cloth to your wound.

You squeeze your eyes shut at the stinging.

“Sh sh sh I’m sorry. I know it stings.” He extends a hand out for you to grasp and you squeeze it as he continues wiping the dry blood off of your leg.

It isn’t long before your leg is bandaged up tightly, keeping pressure on the gauze underneath.

“That should hold for a while.” Keigo smiles down at his work and you can’t help but find it a little bit arrogant.

“How did you even get your hands on antiseptic? I was like the medic of my group and we could never find anything more than those shitty wipes during grocery store and pharmacy raids.”

Keigo looks at you with a smirk lacing his face. His friendly eyes are replaced with dangerous ones, ones that cause a hot pit to form in your stomach and travel lower, below your belt. “Let’s just say I have a few dirty tricks up my sleeve.”

“S-so you’re a raider,” you stutter. “You stole that bottle from another person.”

He chuckles slightly and the sound causes goosebumps to run up your spine. “Not exactly, it’s a lot more complicated than that, but believe what you will. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You’re confused, somewhat afraid, and slightly turned on by the deepness of his voice and the vibrations emanating from his laugh.

“You should stay for dinner,” he says, voice returning to the cheerful and almost goofy tone it had before.

You hesitate, but your stomach growls as if on cue and you spot the piece of meat Keigo has laid out to place over the fire. You let out a huff. “Why not.”

--

Keigo has cut the piece of meat in half. He places it on a hard plastic plate and slides it over to you. It’s juicy but bland. Still, you’re grateful to have a hot meal instead of having to gather berries and edible flowers.

“Is it good?” Keigo asks.

You nod your head, face stuffed full. “Yeah. I haven’t had chicken in so long.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You can’t help but laugh at the fake shocked expression gracing Keigo’s face.

“How did you even catch a chicken? They usually aren’t wandering around in the middle of the woods.”

“Neither are damsels in distress like yourself.” The sly smirk on Keigo’s face causes knots to form in your stomach as a wave of embarrassment washes over you.

“I wouldn’t say I’m a damsel in distress,” you mumble. Your head is turned in the other direction as you try to avoid eye contact.

Keigo raises his eyebrows and chuckles. “Oh yeah? Tell me, how did you get out of that trap earlier? Oh, and who bandaged up your bloody calf and squeezed your hand when the pain was too much to bear?”

“Shut up.” You lean over to playfully shove him, but in the process you fall off the stump you were sitting on. Your butt hits the ground with a thud.

Keigo laughs and extends a hand for you to take.

You reach for it, but as soon as he pulls you up he has yanked you over to him. You are now sitting on his lap and your spine can’t help but shiver as his big calloused yet comforting hands drag up and down your exposed arms.

“Poor clumsy thing,” Keigo says, a darker tone taking over his voice. He continues to warm you up.

You can feel his hot breath tickle the back of your neck as he moves his hands up to your shoulder blades.

“You don’t do much fighting do you?” he asks. His thumbs methodically move to work the knots out of your shoulders.

“I–” You have to recollect your thoughts and focus on anything other than his hands and the magic they’re working. “I told you I was the medic of my group. I, ah, I spent a lot of time treating hunting wounds.”

“So you’re hunched over someone’s broken body all day.” He stops using his thumbs to attack your shoulders and moves to using his knuckles and fists. “I can see why you have all these knots then.”

You can’t help but contract your body forward as he moves his hands down your lower back. You let out an involuntarily breathy moan at his actions.

Keigo chuckles, leaning his mouth in the crook of your neck. “You know your skin is really soft,” he mumbles.

You bark out a laugh. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re going to make a skin suit out of me.”

He laughs too and he gives your sides a slight squeeze.

You turn and look at the ash blonde man. He weaves his fingers in his hair and looks back at you with a devilish smirk. He’s beautiful, one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. And he’s touching you. His hands are groping your shoulders and your sides. You want them to travel all over you, from the plushness of your ass to the valley between your breasts.

You’re taken out of your thoughts when you feel something warm on your lips. Him. His lips crash into yours. It takes a moment for you to recognize your surroundings, what’s going on. His lips are dry and slightly cracked from the heat but you don’t mind.

Without removing your lips from his, you shift to a more comfortable position and Keigo is quick to continue roaming his hands all over you. He grabs your ass with one and tangles the other in your hair. When he pulls, you let out a gasp and he bites your lip, a low growl escaping his throat.

Tears pick in the corner of your eyes as the sensitive skin grows hot.

Keigo wipes them away with his thumbs. “I guess little doves don’t like teeth.” He picks up your arms and lazily wraps them around his neck. You clasp them together and adjust your position on his lap. “So tell me, dove. What kind of things do you like?”

Your face is hot. You wish you could smooth that feeling back but you can’t move under his gaze.

“What’s the matter?” he asks with that dark, sultry voice. “Cat got your tongue? I hear they prey on little birdies like you.”

You whimper slightly. There is so much you want to say to him but the heat pooling in your abdomen and the fluids leaking into your panties distract from any thoughts. Instead, you tangle your hands into his thick hair. It’s a bit greasy but so is yours. You don’t mind. You tug on a lock and grind your hips forward. You can feel the strain of his cock press onto your clothed folds, already soaked with anticipation.

“Someone’s a bit needy today aren’t we,” Keigo says. He takes one of his thumbs and puts it in your mouth. “Suck.”

His demand leaves you weak in the knees. You comply and begin sucking tightly on his thumb. Your tongue wraps around it and the bitter flavor is quick to take over your tastebuds.

As you suck on his thumb, Keigo moves his free hand up your tank top. He grabs one of your breasts and snakes his fingers underneath your bra to stroke your nipple.

You gasp as a shock of cold wind brushes past them. The bud becomes stiff and Keigo rolls the peak between his fingers.

“Are you gonna just sit there, or are you going to put that mouth to work?”

You blush and go back to sucking on his thumb. You lick a long stripe up the pad of his finger as he fondles your breast.

He slides his one hand around your chest and you hear the click of bra clasps becoming undone. The bra slides down your arms and you chuck it to the side.

Keigo takes his thumb out of your mouth and slides his other hand under your shirt. He thumbs over the sensitive skin of your nipple. “You know, you have a nice rack,” he says. “The perfect size, really.” He lifts your shirt up so he can see you in full. He traces his fingers over every scar and blemish you have gotten over the years of hiding and raiding and trying your hardest to put up a fight.

He leans in to press his mouth against your breast. He kisses between them and works his way down past the scars and scrapes to the waistband of your pants.

“Wait.” Your hands move to grab his wrist. “Is there, I don’t know, anywhere more comfortable where we could do this?”

Keigo looks around at the ground covered with dead leaves and miscellaneous supplies he’s tossed around. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize little birdies like you need to be pampered.”

The tease in his voice nips at you like ice and you can’t help but feel even more overheated than you already are. “Little birdies have fragile bones,” you retort.

The wicked grin on his face widdens and he chuckles into your neck, nipping it and taking you off guard.

He slides his arms under you and hoists you up. He turns around so you can’t see where he’s walking but your legs wrap around him, clinging like a koala.

Keigo jumps up onto something. He sets you down and you can see that you’re now standing in the bed of the truck. An open sleeping bag lies over a busted up looking mattress. You can’t help but smile at the thought of laying in a bed for once, be that a broken mattress with springs poking out the sides.

You’re taken out of your thoughts when you feel Keigo’s arm snake around you, pulling you close. You move your arms up and cup his cheek.

He leans in and kisses you again, this time with more force like a wild beast devouring its prey.

Your hands trail up his stomach under his shirt. Your fingers dance as they caress every one of his muscles. You are eager to rip the tight black t-shirt off of him and he can tell. As your fingernails rake their way down his back, Keigo lets go of your lips to pull off his shirt. In the split second he was off of your lips, you could see something red across his back. A tattoo maybe. You couldn’t make out what it was but it fades in your mind all together when he leans his mouth down to suck on the stiff peaks of your nipples.

He makes sure to give them equal attention before yet again trailing his way down your stomach with soft and sweet kisses. As he pushes you back with a gentle touch, you fall back onto the busted mattress. A loud creaking noise emanates from the truck bed but Keigo doesn’t seem to notice. He resumes his position between your legs. His fingers masterfully undo the button of your jeans and slide them down your legs.

You have never felt this exposed. Sure you’ve been naked with other people before but never in the woods where anyone could come across you at any moment, be that a raider or a hunter or someone trying to escape just like yourself. Still, every time you look down your stomach and meet Keigo’s gaze, you melt into butter and slip out of your worries.

“Now tell me,” Keigo said, beginning to drag your panties down. You stay connected to them with a thin strand of your own slick. “What do little birdies taste like?”

This is wrong. You’ve just met this guy. He’s a complete stranger. You don’t know who he is or what kind of person he was in the old world. You don’t know whether or not he is the type of person to make you chicken soup when you’ve come down with a cold or let you borrow a cup of sugar when you’re short when making a recipe. In the old world you would have never fucked a stranger after only knowing them a few hours. It’s all so foreign to you.

But this isn’t the old world and the way that Keigo growls just at the sight of your sopping cunt has your eyes near rolling into the back of your skull.

Keigo has pulled your panties down to your ankles. He chucks them aside before taking you in. Your hair is sprawled out against the creaking mattress. He has barely touched you yet you look like you’re on ecstasy. He wastes no time in hoisting your legs over his shoulders. He can’t help but feel prideful in the way you gasp at his rough movements.

You squirm underneath him as you feel Keigo drag the bridge of his nose across your opening to your delicate clit. The warmth of his tongue drags across and you let out a loud moan.

His fingers pinch your tender clit and you buck your hips forward against his soft lips. Keigo wastes no time in feasting on you. After all, you’ve proven to be quite the needy little dove.

Keigo prods and sucks at your clit. He sticks two of his fingers in and flicks them upward at a teasing pace. He chuckles at the sight of you thrashing and bucking your hips against him.

Every time you open your eyes to look at him, heat rises to your cheeks and you force yourself to look away.

He’s done this before. He knows his way around a pussy. From the way he dips his hot tongue into your slick walls and massages your clit with wet fingers, it isn’t long before the tethered cord within you snaps and you spray your juices against his fingers and against his face.

“Too much,” you said, placing a shaky hand on his bicep.

Keigo looks into your eyes. The darkened look he has shows that he could eat you without hesitation. He looks like he is ready to pounce. Instead, he takes the fingers covered in your juices and sticks them in his mouth. He runs his tongue between them and nearly sucks them dry.

You are still quivering below him, twitching from the lasting effects of your orgasm.

“Delicious,” he says, releasing his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop.

Your heart rate begins to slow. You sit up, although your muscles have a slight ache as you do so.

“Are you ready?”

Your mellow eyes meet Keigo’s feral ones. In the time it had taken you to sit up, he had stripped away his pants leaving him in just his briefs. The prominent tent below is what catches your eye. His hard on is begging to be let free. You tenderly lift your hand up and rub over his clothed crotch. The deep inhale he takes followed by a low growl makes your insides melt.

Keigo pulls at the waistband of his briefs, letting his hardened cock spring free. He steps out of them and thrusts his pelvis towards your face. His shaft slaps against your cheek and you take his hint.

Your hand wraps around his shaft and pumps against it a few times. Your thumb smooths over the tip and tongue tentatively licks the drops of precum that leak out. It’s salty and the sweetness comes from seeing the way Keigo melts as soon as your tongue glides against his length.

“That’s a good little dove.” His fingers tangle in your hair and his hand pushes you forward, forcing you to take his length in your mouth.

You grip onto the back of his thighs to balance yourself. Heat rises to your cheeks as it dawns on you how intimate you are being with him. His hand pulls on your hair as your mouth works wonders on him. His balls slap against your chin and you can’t help but let out a moan, the vibrations from your mouth work their way to his core.

You cup his balls as you try and milk him for all he’s worth. You give them a gentle little squeeze and his knees buckle. He tightens the grip on your hair to catch himself from falling.

Before he can cum, he pulls out of your mouth. Droplets of your spit fall from your lips. A strand of saliva that still connects you to his dick breaks off.

Facing away from you, Keigo strokes himself a couple times. “Why don’t you lean back,” he suggests.

You follow his orders and lie down on the mattress. The springs dig into your shoulder blades once again but anticipation keeps you from fixating on it too much.

Keigo leans down and hikes one of your legs over his shoulder. He gives your tender pussy another lick before slapping his dick against your puffy clit.

As you let out a moan, he lines his cock up to your entrance and snaps his hips forward.

You grip onto his bicep as he thrusts himself in and out at a fast pace, faster than you’re used to. You suppose he couldn’t wait. His dick is long and his girth stretches you out in all the right ways.

You try and catch your breath but you can barely keep up with the way Keigo pounds into you.

“Is this good for you, dove,” Keigo asks. He hikes your other leg up and leans in, touching his forehead with yours.

You scream in pain and pleasure as he hits your mark perfectly with this new position.

Your nails cling onto his back and your mouth finds comfort on his shoulder as you bite into him.

He lets out a sharp bark, almost like a howl as your velvety walls contort around his dick in all the right ways.

Keigo wets his fingers and trails them down to your swollen clit. He presses against it which only causes you to let out a scream in ecstasy.

It’s not long before the pressure built within you snaps and you tighten even more around Keigo’s hardened cock, letting your juices spill around it.

Keigo continues to pump in and out of you until his own release. He pulls out and cums onto your chest. As you sit up, the warm mess rolls down your abdomen and spills out on the sleeping bag covered mattress.

Keigo hands you a small towel. “Here.”

As you wipe the ropes of cum off of your chest and stomach you can’t help but think of the old world. Before the end of society as you knew it you would have never fucked a stranger two hours after meeting them.

Keigo has pulled his pants back up but leaves his shirt off. You watch as he pokes at the dying fire, bringing the embers back to life. On his back, you can finally see the bit of red that caught your eye earlier. A tattoo. Two red wings coming out of his shoulder blades. Keigo is an interesting guy, one you want to know more about. The thought of getting to know him better makes you blush and the apples of your cheeks raise in a genuine smile, something that you haven’t felt in a long time.

The fire illuminates Keigo and the soft smile he has melts your heart. Who knew that someone so cunning and snarky like himself could have such a sweet smile.

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha hawks #mha hawks #takami keigo #Takami Keigo x reader #hawks x reader #apocalypse au #bnharem collab

[xwing-baby]

The Safehouse (Steve Murphy x Reader)

Words: 3k

Warnings: description of injury, guns, little angst, little fluff, some pining, no edits just writing.

Summary: You had a plan. Steve would meet you here when the coast was clear tomorrow evening... tomorrow was six days ago and someone else has turned up.

A/N: Is this a week late... it’s already Wednesday when I post this so technically its on time just the wrong prompt. This is the first time I’ve written Steve Murphy as any kind of love interest and it was not the plan but I loved it! My OG Narcos crush, back when I didn’t trust Pena at all lol

Masterlist 

--

The house was freezing. Even in the heat of the summer sun, the walls remained frigid. The one day Steve Murphy had promised you was turning into a week. You were stuck inside a prison of your own choosing, with no phone to call him, all you had was hope that he was on his way up to the house as he had promised.

Alone in a huge house with cartel sicarios on your trail meant your paranoia had spiked to an all time high. Every creek or groan the house created as it settled into its foundations sent your heart racing.

You had collected what you could from around the abandoned building to make a bed, not that you slept more than a few hours. You spent the rest of your waking hours wandering around the abandoned structure checking every entrance and exit for any signs of intruders. The only belongings you had with you were the clothes on your back and an empty gun. Your last two bullets were not in a man a few miles west. You were practically defenceless but at least with the gun in your hand you might look like you could hurt  someone when they came.

By the seventh day of your isolation you were quickly losing hope. You would surely die here, with no food and clean water. You were smart enough to not drink the murky pool water you had found in your first exploration of the place, but now even that seemed tempting. To distract yourself from your hunger, you decided to take another walk through the great building. It would take an house to explore every room on this floor, and that would be an hour less you had to be awake and conscious.

Empty room after empty room. Without life the hotel was practically dead. The paintings that remained on the walls held no joy, no vibrancy and no interest despite the joyful scenes they depicted. Rat chewed furniture lay in a few and you allowed yourself a moment to imagine the opulence of the past. Who could you be in this beautiful daydream? A wife here having an affair with a rich secret lover. A newlywed hiding away with her secretly wed husband to honeymoon together away from the melodramatic drama of their outside life. Anything would be better than your reality.

Instead of a movie star, or a wealthy patron, you were a wreck. A traitor to your family, a traitor to yourself, a liar and a dead woman. Karma was here to bite you and she was just showing off by bringing you here to show you what you could have had if you had just kept your mouth shut. There was no doubt in your mind that you would not see the end of next week. Starvation or your assassins would catch up soon. Whatever your end may be, you only wished it would come sooner and put you out of your misery.

You walked around the house until you came to the central courtyard. From a balcony on the first floor, you looked our over the beautiful pool. Plants had overgrown their planters and had crawled in from the outside world. The takeover of nature amongst the decaying manmade beauty of this place was a beautiful juxtaposition.

Try as man might to put his stamp on the world, nature finds a way in and takes over eventually. With time the plants would pull the stone apart, take the pigment of the paint and bring the whole structure down.

You had hoped to be a plant in this hellish place. To take the cartels down slowly and steadily so they didn’t even notice as the roof caved in around them. Instead, you were the stonewall benign corrupted and torn apart by vines. The vines had crept up without you even noticing, twisting into your cracks and pulling you apart until you were unrecognizable.

Considering how you had started the year, in a medical centre with the lovely Connie Murphy, it was safe to say you had reached an unrecognisable state by now. A lot had changed in six months. Connie was gone, you hadn’t stepped foot in a hospital since March and four men had been killed by your own hand. You didn’t want to think about the countless more who had suffered as a result of your decisions. You could never understand how the awful men around you slept so well, you had killed a small percentage of the ones they had in relatively humane ways and yet you were haunted by them every day. Even before running away you barely slept. At least that showed you had a conscience…

Movement across the courtyard suddenly caught your attention. A man stood a few feet from the balcony doors, though cast in shadow you could make out a gun glinting in his hand. You jumped backwards, hiding behind the wall next to the doors as your heart hammered in your chest. You had been chasing the place for any unexpected visitors, yes, but you were not actually expecting anymore. You began to sweat, immediately forgetting all plans you had made for escape.

“Y/n?” The man called from the other side. He was American, but it wasn’t Steve. You stayed quiet, chest heaving as adrenaline pulsed through you, “Y/n, Murphy sent me,”

“Where’s Steve?” You called back. He never mentioned anyone else when you made the plan to hide here. He promised he would come himself and made you promise not to go with anyone else.

“He got shot,” The man explained, “He’s okay but can’t come up here,”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” You asked. You didn’t know how you wanted proof, it was more to stall the man while you thought of a way out.

“You don’t,” He replied.

He was right there was no way of knowing he was telling the truth and there was no way of knowing he would not kill you. The only thing against that theory was that he was yet to fire his gun. No cartel sicario would waste an opportunity.

Carefully you peeked out from behind the wall to see the mystery man, only to see he had disappeared. Your pulse raised again, gripping your gun tighter and you listened closely to work out where he was going. The floorboards would give his location away easily if you listened carefully enough. No doubt he was making his way around the courtyard to find you. The question was which way so you could best protect yourself.

Taking a deep calming breath you walked slowly to the opposite side of the hallway so both entrances were in your line of sight. There was nothing nearby you could use as a weapon of any kind, unless you considered throwing rat droppings. Your empty pistol was all you had and it would have to work. Confidence was the key. If you made it look like you had bullets and were willing to kill him you could maybe get out alive. You would be able to find Agent Murphy and he could get you home, just like he had promised.

Footsteps got louder from behind the left door. The door handle twisted and slowly the man pushed the creaking door open. You took a breath, raised your gun and waited.

In the light you could look at your reaper clearly. He was tall, dark hair swept across his forehead, and a moustache just like Murphy’s. He wore a blue button up and a black leather jacket. He locked eyes with you immediate when he entered the room, trained his gun on you but did not fire.

“Y/n,” He greeted you solemnly.

“Who are you?”

“Put the gun down and we can talk,” He said. You shook your head.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Agent Javier Peña,” He introduced himself, “I work with Steve Murphy, he sent me to get you,” You didn’t reply, didn’t move your weapon in any way, “Look Kid, I don’t know who you are but Steve seems to care about you. You fucked up. We can help you but you need to come with me to get to him,”

You had to make an escape. There was only so long before Javier’s patience ran out and he would most likely kill you then, no matter what he said you didn’t believe him. You looked to the window beside you out of the corner of your eye. There was no glass, the jump would be clean. It wouldn’t be too far to fall either. You could steal his truck, and run. Run far away so even Murphy couldn’t find you. You could go to Brazil, or Mexico.

You had to be quick. With no bullets you couldn’t break the stalemate so you had to move quickly smartly.

“Don’t,” Javier warned you, immediately catching onto your idea.

In a second you moved, lept for the open window, but as soon as your legs began to turn Javier fired. The bullet grazed your shoulder, burning across the skin in a second before planting into the wall behind you. You screamed and fell down, instantly dropping your weapon and clutching the  bleeding would.

Javier ddin’t waste a second, closing the meters distance between you. He forcefully grabbed your non injured shoulder as you tried to get away.

“Up! Get up!” He yelled, dragging you to your feet. You yelped and cried as he dragged your arms behind your back, holding both wrists with one hand, “It’s not that fucking bad,” He growled.

“Fuck you,” You spat at him, your saliva landing on his shoulder. You thought he would actually kill you then, his eyes filling with so much anger and contempt for you. He glared down at you, grinding his teeth for a moment before ultimately deciding against killing you.

He bent down to pick up the gun you had dropped. Finding the chamber completely empty, he frowned and gave you a questioning look.

“I can get that back, right?” You asked through a pained expression. Your shoulder was pulsing with pain as blood steadily dropped from the wound into the cotton of your shirt. You didn’t really care about the gun, you’d stolen it from someone else, you no longer had any care for your wellbeing and just hoped if you wound him up enough he would kill you. You were not going back to the cartels. Javier scoffed and muttered something under his breath, not answering your question. He pushed you forward and walked you out of the building, leaving a blood spotted trail behind you.

Outside, Javier took you to a red truck. The police light on the dashboard relaxed you alittle but it didn’t kill the idea that Javier may have killed Steve to get the truck. Unable to do anything about this situation however, you complied and sat in the passenger seat, holding your bullet grazed shoulder tight to try and calm the bleeding.

Javier drove fast, soon the run down hotel was over the crest of the hill and you left any hope with it. You had made it so far but of course the penny had to drop at some point and Javier was going to give you back to whoever it was that was paying you. You hoped it wasn’t Escobar, he wouldn’t make it quick, you knew that much.

Javier sighed heavily, giving you a sharp look as you continued to fuss over the bleeding wound on your shoulder. You scowled at him.

“It fucking hurts,” You complained, annoyed by his exasperation. You were the one injured! Not him!

“So would jumping out a window,” He countered.

“You should have just killed me,” You muttered bitterly.

“Hindsight’s a bitch,” He grumbled.

You recognised Bogata as soon as you saw it on the horizon. You had ducked your head from the window as the fields made way for houses. Every stop sign made you wince, every hesitation from your driver made you screw your eyes shut waiting for the inevitable bullet to fly though and kill you. You were terrified.

However, the bullet never came. You opened your eyes as you felt Javier slow down and turn into a new location. You didn’t recognise the neighborhood but it was nice, nicer than the places you usually hung out in the city. It was not somewhere you knew anyone would bring someone to kill them. That fact should have calmed you down, instead it did the opposite. Whoever Javeir Pena was, he was not with Escobar, or Cali, or anyone else you knew had your name on a list.

Javier stopped the truck in a parking garage, and got out. In a strangely polite manner he opened the passenger door for you. You didn’t move for a moment, just stared at him trying to preempt his next move. You couldn’t seen anything in his mind but irritation.

“Out,” He pressed, waving his hand at you. Slowly you got out, feet on solid ground again, and followed him to a door which would lead you inside to your fate.

You wondered if Steve would ever find you now. Your heart ached at the idea of never seeing him again but if what you thought was about to happen did, maybe it was for the best. You wanted him to remember you before this mess, not as some corpse in a dumpster where you imagined you would end up.

Your relationship with Steve Murphy was complicated. Whether you viewed him as a friend or something else you could not work out. Since Connie had gone something had definitely changed, he was more comfortable around you, lingering glances and brushing hands was near common place but the age difference and the circumstances to how you met always stopped you and him from taking the next step.

You were Connie's friend first. She had become like an older sister to you in the months you had worked together. She protected you. Though even she couldn’t protect you from the cartels, neither Steve nor Connie knew about your involvement until your name came across Steve’s desk. He didn’t tell you that until Connie had left him, in a drunken stupor he had confessed that he knew exactly who you were but he wasn’t going to turn you in. He was going to carry on protecting you, like Connie had, but better. He had kept his promise when he was sober, making a plan in secret to get you out of the cartels clutches and into safety. He had done so much for you, but now that was all in vane. You would die today.

Suddenly the door opened and a blonde haired man limped through the threshold.

“What the fuck man?” He exclaimed, “What did you do?” It was Steve! Your eyes filled with happy tears now as you looked at him. He was alive! Before Javier could take over the narrative of what had happened you pipped up.

“He shot me,” You said, quickly running up to Steve glaring daggers at his friend. You hugged him tight, relief like you had never felt before washing over your body.

“I can see that,” Steve said as you pulled away from him. He looked at your blood soaked shirt and grimaced then looked at Javier for an answer. He didn’t say anything, only shaking his head dismissively.

“Get in here,” Steve shook his head and chuckled lightly. He knew you and Javier wouldn’t get on but hadn’t imagined it would be that bad. You walked inside, following Steve up the stairs to his apartment with Javier close behind. “You alright?” Steve asked, turning back to you briefly as he climbed.

“I’ll be fine, it’s just grazed,” You said.

“Not your shoulder. Are you okay?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” You shrugged, instantly regretting it as pain shot through your body. You hissed and grimaced, “You were late,”

“Met your friends and got a little unlucky,” He explained, offering a weak smile as an apology which you took gladly. You knew he wouldn’t ever leave you without good reason.

“Seems we both have shitty friends,” You said, glancing at Javier. He rolled his eyes.

Once inside the apartment, Steve patched you up on the couch. He lent you a clean shirt as yours was ruined. He was gentle and careful as he always was with you, you were too tired to notice the blush on his cheeks when you pulled your shirt off to show the wound. The stress of the weeks past was now catching up to you in the safe environment and you found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open despite the discomfort as Steve applied the bandage.

Nodding your head one too many times, Steve guided you back to lie down on the couch to sleep, a soft smile on his face. He had been worried sick about you, fast tracking his recovery so he could go and get you. He rather reluctantly had to ask Javi to go instead when after a week his strength was not back fully. You were dirty and in need of food and a shower but you were safe and that was all he could ask for. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, fixed your hair from your face and watched you for a moment.

“Does Connie know about her?” Javier asked, startling Steve as he hadn’t heard his partner come in to the bedroom. He stood up quickly and moved away from you.

“Why would she need to know about her?” Steve replied dismissively. He walked past Javier to the kitchen, putting away the medical supplies in the cupboard. Javi followed and learnt against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. He was not going to back down easily.

“Come on Murphy, I am not stupid,” Javier deadpanned.

“She’s just a friend,” Steve replied. Javier had known the man long enough to know when he was lying. He raised a brow, “It’s complicated,” Steve finally conceded, huffing out angry breath at how quickly he could be worn down by Javier.

“Well if she is who I think she is, you need to sort it out. Fast,” Javi said, “I’d expect this shit from me, man. Harbouring a criminal isn’t your style,”

“She… She’s different,”

“That’s what they all say,”

--

i had about a thousand ideas for this one, lovely prompt as ever @autumnleaves1991-blog

tagging: @hunters-heathen @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @wille-zarr @all-hallows-evie @kingsmanandqueens​

#writer wednesday #javier pena x reader #steve murphy x reader #steve x reader #agent murphy x reader #agent pena x reader #javi x reader #murphy x reader #narcos x reader #x reader #angst #fluff #pedro pascal characters #netflix narcos #pedro pascal character x reader #molly writes

[kat-katsuki]

Lower Jaw Bone | Dabi x Reader Oneshot

A/N: KYAAAA I couldn't contain myself after reading chapter 291, and I got inspired to make this oneshot. It's a little angsty, a little fluffy, and most of all it's just heart wrenching.

Warning: Spoiler!! Chapter 291!!!

Word count: 5k

----------Enjoy--------

He still remembers the first day he met you. Even up till this day, he will never forget the way you shivered in your own ice on a cold, dry, winter night, trying to keep his body cool.

He had no idea why you were there that day, because it was supposed to be a secluded mountain where only Endeavor went to train. He had planned to end his life then and there, using his own fire which was passed down to him by his bastard of a father, the one who tortured and tormented him. However, you saved him.

You had an ice quirk, just like his mother. You covered yourself in ice, releasing your quirk continuously in order to get through the fire exceeding 2000 degrees just to get him out of there. Your arms and legs were severely burnt, much like his, and you had carried him out of that mountain all by yourself.

His body temperature was still very high, and both of your clothes were burnt off by the fire. You had to build an igloo out of your ice to protect yourself from the cold, and at the same time you kept hugging him while activating your own quirk to cool his body temperature down. When he woke up, he felt excruciating pain all over. At first he thought he was dead, because when he saw you, he thought you were an angel. Even though it hurt all over, the area you touched felt unbelievably good.

He noticed you were shivering all over, teeth chattering. The two of you were naked, and both of you had burn wounds all over, his more severe than yours. His entire jaw was burnt off, and he couldn't talk. He just weakly stared at you while you quivered, and he didn't know how many days passed, just like that. By the time you were awake, you told him he was going to be okay. He couldn't move his body at all, nor speak, and you were also severely injured. He watched you drag your body into the depth of the forest, and he thought you would just leave him there to die, because for hours you never returned.

But you came back. You came back with bandages, clothes, medicine, and blankets. He wondered why you didn't bring an adult, and why you were still naked when you came back to him. He laid there motionless while you applied whatever medicine you were able to find on him. Poor him. You had no idea if the medicine was meant for burn wounds, but it was all you had. You rubbed the strange cream all over his body, and wrapped him up in the little white bandages you owned. "I'm sorry, I don't have much, so I can only cover up the worst parts for now. I'll try to get more later," you apologized to him as you covered his face, neck, and torso with bandages.

He noticed how you didn't apply any medicine to yourself. All of the cream in that little jar that you had went on his body, and even that wasn't able to help cover all of his injuries. You made sure to reconstruct the igloo every day, and you made sure he was covered in blankets and bandages.

The next few days were excruciating. His skin peeled off and the blood dried onto the bandages. He would lay in the igloo alone every day as you limped out to scavenge for food. Every day you'd come back with bandages and medicine, and a little bit of food. You were finally able to find clothes for yourself at some point, but it hurts to wear them because of your peeling skin. You always apologized to him about not being able to provide better, but he didn't understand why you should be sorry. You barely had enough for yourself, and whatever you had you always prioritized him. You don't even know him. Why would you go so far just to save a stranger like him? He didn't understand.

At first he blamed you. He wanted to scream at you for saving him, and he wanted to tell you to let him die, but he couldn't talk. However, as days passed, and he watched you limp out of the igloo every day and back, and how you'd always apply whatever medicine you could get your hands on to him first, how you always ate the left overs of what you gave to him first.... He could no longer tell you that he wanted to die. Tears slowly seeped out of his eyes, his last tears, and each time you wiped them away, telling him sorry, and that you knew it was painful, and asked him to bear with it. Little did you know it wasn't the pain that made him cry.

Because he lost his jaw, he couldn't chew. As disgusting as it was, you had to chew for him and then feed it into his mouth. That was how you kept him alive. You were quite the talkative person. Whenever you weren't out looking for food and medicine, you were telling him about yourself.

You didn't have friends, and your parents are villains. Your father was convicted for mass murder, while your mother was a drug addict. You escaped home at the age of seven; you never went to school. You were originally living in an abandoned cottage in the depth of these mountains. Alone, yet safe. You used to walk miles every day just to get to a small farm at the edge of these mountains. There lived this old couple, who were farmers, and they taught you how to plant vegetables, and sometimes offered you bread and milk. You told him you saw him in the fire, and your body just moved on its own.

Two months. The two of you lived in the igloo for two months, until spring came, and that he was finally able to walk. His legs were in worse shape than yours, and you had recovered pretty well. Although you still had difficulties walking, you were able to support him back to your abandoned cottage. "It's probably really dusty since I've been gone for so long. Sit here! I'll clean up real quick!" You told him as you set him down on this old, worn out chair at the doorway.

He grabbed you by the wrist before you went inside. He couldn't speak, so he just stared at you with his teal blue eyes, trying to convey the words 'thank you.'

You simply smiled back at him and told him to wait. You were very slow, and he could hear loud thuds coming from inside every once in a while, and he knew it was you falling. Even though he never asked you to save him, and he still wasn't sure if he wanted to stay in this world, he swore to himself that day that he would spend his entire life protecting you.

At some point, when the two of you were able to walk normally again, you began to bring him with you out to look for food. You had a little garden that you would tend to, but there were no crops that grew during the spring time. "Harvest season is summer and fall," you told him.

You were a year younger than him, barely eleven. Yet you already knew how to survive in this hellhole of a world. You taught him how to look for expired packaged bread thrown out of the supermarkets and bakeries. The two of you always hung out at the dark alley where the big supermarkets throw out the goods that they couldn't sell anymore. You knew this one worker who would always secretly sneak out some fresh milk for him, since he couldn't chew.

He tried to tell you his name, but you could only read hiragana, since you never went to school. "To-u-ya," you read the characters he wrote into the ground with a stick. He then pointed to himself. "Touya! Your name is Touya!" You threw your arms around him. His eyes curved into downward crescents as he tried to smile. You already told him your name. Your name is (Y/N). The two of you held hands, and he swore he'd never let go.

Child labor was illegal, but you two were able to get a job in an underground club. It was a place where bad people did illegal business, so they were very secretive. You were a sweet talker, and the owner there must have took pity on the two of you, so he let the two of you work as janitors. He paid very little, but it was enough for the two of you to get by. You were very stingy with your money. While Touya would always spend his share on some fresh food for the two of you, you were always saving up in this big jar. He told you multiple times through writing that you two had enough money to buy food, and that you didn't have to live off of those expired goods anymore, but you wouldn't listen. You still went to that dark alley every day to get those expired bread and canned food.

It wasn't until he turned fifteen that he realized why you were always saving up. One day, when that sorry excuse of a piggy bank of yours was finally full. You happily picked it up and hugged it to your chest. You grabbed him by the wrist and told him today was his big day. He had no idea what you were talking about, but you held his hand with one hand, and the money jar with the other. He then found himself standing in front of a run down, sketchy looking building that had a red cross on it. This was a hospital? He thought.

You pulled him inside and there was a man with frizzy curly ashy brown hair and a pair of round, cracked glasses. He wore a white lab coat with a name plate on it that said Dr. Taniguchi. "Doc, about the jaw implant surgery I asked you about, I have the money for it now!" You placed the big jar of money on the counter. Touya's eyes widened. Jaw implant?! Was that what you were saving up for? All those years you diced and mashed up the food for him since he couldn't chew. He was already used to it. It sucked that he couldn't talk to you, but he had honestly accepted it. He had no idea you were secretly, this whole time, saving your own hard earned money just so he could be able to live a normal life. Him! A stranger! Someone who had no affiliation to you whatsoever.

Touya grabbed that money jar from the counter and pulled you away. He shook his head violently, trying to tell you no. He didn't need a jaw. You should use this money for yourself. He was okay like this. Really! You snatched the money from him. "We agreed that we wouldn't interfere with what we choose to spend our money on Touya. I'm spending my money on getting you a new jaw!" You placed the jar back down. "This is the only place that doesn't require identification Touya. And it's cheap. I know it's sketchy, but Doc promised me he'd get you a new jaw. I saw him do surgery on other people before, he's trust worthy! Please.... Promise me you'd go through with it. With a lower jaw, you can talk again, and eat! You'd be able to return to a normal human being!"

He kept shaking his head at you. Since his tear ducts were burnt, only blood seeped out of his under eyes, streaming down his scarred face. You can't do this! You need that money too! That leg of yours hasn't been doing well the past few years, most likely because you were treating his wounds instead of yours back then. You need medicine and money too! He held your hands and placed them to his forehead. He begged you not to do this. Please (Y/N)! Please! "Ahhh! AHHHH!" his voice only came out like this. No words, just sounds.

"See? You need it to talk Touya."

The doctor brought him into this small bright room that smelled of rubbing alcohol. You waved at him behind the doors as it closed, and he was pressed to the bed. After one shot of anesthesia, he was out cold. When he woke up again, he had bandages wrapped all over his lower jaw. Yes, jaw. He had a jaw bone implant. He could feel it. "You need to keep the bandage on for at least three weeks," the doctor told them. The surgery was a success.

You cried for hours with joy and relief, and kept telling him she was finally able to hear him speak now! Touya cried too. He didn't know how to thank you. You were an angel. You were his angel. How was he ever going to repay you?!

Three weeks later and the bandages came off. "Try moving your jaw!" you exclaimed excitedly.

"Ah! Ah!" he moved it up and down. "Ai' ish?" It's been so long since he talked, he still needed to adjust to the new sensation, but for the first time, he was able to say something that wasn't a series of 'ahh's. You were bawling.

"WAAAHHHHHHH! TOUYAAAAAAAA!!!!!!"

You helped him regain his ability to speak. With a few months of practice he was talking normally again. It was weird for him, because he had hit voice change by the time the jaw implant was done, so when he spoke he felt like the voice wasn't his. His favorite thing to say after he regained the ability to speak was your name. "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!" he'd yell every day.

"I'm here! What?!" you'd ask him.

"Nothing. Just, wanted to say your name." He smiled at you. Every time he smiled, you smiled. One of the reasons you wanted him to do that surgery was for him to smile. Even though his lower jaw was covered in burn scars, his smile was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "(Y/N)!" He picked you up by the waist, and twirled you around in the air. You squealed as you held on tightly to his neck. "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!" He would never get tired of saying it.

You thought the two of you would be able to be like this forever. Your ice, his fire, small cottage, just the two of you, secluded from this suffocating world and it's shit society. However, one day, as the two of you were walking down the streets to buy some groceries, he saw a billboard, and he stopped. He stared at the billboard for a long time, and wouldn't budge. "Touya?" You called his name. You gasped when you saw the look in his eyes. Those wide, teal blue eyes, staring at a strange, red haired man with beards of fire. His stare was so cold, colder than any winter, any frostbite you've ever felt. You could sense the pure hatred radiating off of him. He looked like he could kill just by glaring, and it scared you. "Touya?"

Your voice snapped him out of his trance. "Yeah?"

"W-What's wrong?" you asked.

"Nothing...." He looked down. For the first time in forever, you saw sadness in his eyes. He stood there for a long time before telling you, "There's a place I must go to."

He brought you to a flower shop, and there he purchased a small bouquet of two blue Amaryllis flowers. You didn't know why he chose such a weird flower, since Amaryllis usually come in red and white. He then took you to a hospital, and he asked you for a favor. "Can you hand this to the counter? Tell them it's for Todoroki Rei, and tell them not to tell her who sent it."

You didn't ask who Todoroki Rei was, because you could already see it in his eyes. He probably didn't want to scare people with the scars all over his face. You had scars too, but they were on your legs and arms. You went inside as you were told, and handed the flowers to the counter. You repeated his instructions to the nurses. They asked you who you were, and you just told them they didn't need to know.

After you were done with that, he took your hand in his, and you two left. He never visited that hospital again. Ever since then, he changed. You would always find him glaring off into the space, but you didn't know what. His eyes would sometimes turn really cold, and it scared you. Every time you asked, he would tell you it's nothing to worry about.

You found out he started leaving home in the middle of night. You didn't know where he went, and you didn't know if you should ask. One day he came back with a bottle of hair dye, and asked you to dye his hair. You didn't know why he wanted you to dye his hair. You liked it. It was a snowy white. But he told you to just do it.

You didn't like how things were going. You had a bad feeling in your stomach, and you were too afraid to ask him. However, those secret outings at night had you suspicious.

When you were sixteen, still working at that underground club, there was a man who came up to you. He grabbed you by the butt, and started saying really inappropriate things to you. "Hey little cutie. Why don't you come with me and we can go have some fun?"

Almost instantly he was thrown against the wall. It was Touya. Touya held the man by the throat with one hand, and in his other hand were the blue flames that nearly burned him to death five years ago. "I'll kill you!" Touya hissed at the man. 

"Touya no!" You cried as you threw your arms around the one he held with fire. He immediately put out the fire when you touched him, afraid to burn you again. "Don't!" The two of you were fired on the spot. However, as you guys walked out of the club, a tall man in black called out to you guys.

"Hey, you two. You two seem pretty capable. Wanna work for me?" he asked. Touya stopped and turned towards the man, but you held him by the arm. You knew all those people in there were criminals, and you wanted nothing to do with them. Working as a janitor is one thing, but working for criminals like him is another.

"Touya no...." you pleaded softly.

He looked at you with soft eyes, and smiled reassuringly. Then he turned to the man and said, "We'll think about it."

"Great. This is my business card. Come find me when you make up your mind."

Once the man was gone, you shouted at Touya. "Touya you can't! He's a criminal! We can't work for criminals!"

"You can't... But I can."

"What!? You can't!"

"We need the money (Y/N). Your leg has been getting worse by the day. I know you think you can just get by by taking pain killers, but you need treatment. Proper treatment. Not that shabby sketchy hospital, but a proper, big, hospital with clean facilities and good doctors!" He shouted. He was talking about the leg that got burnt that year when you saved him.

"It doesn't hurt Touya. It really doesn't. I don't want to work for bad guys. Please promise me you won't do it..." you pleaded.

He cupped you by the face, and pressed his forehead against yours. His beautiful teal orbs gazed into your (e/c) ones. You felt a hard thumping sound inside your chest. What is this feeling? A strange wave of heat rushed to your cheeks as you attempted to pull away, but he held you there. "I'm sorry (Y/N). I need to do this. For you....and for me." He couldn't tell you about the certain man he had been plotting to kill. He knew you'd try to talk him out of it. You were just too kind.

"You don't have to do this for me Touya, really. My leg is fine," you told him.

"It's not fine and we both know it. I can't see you in pain (Y/N). I really can't. I love you..." he whispered.

"What?"

"I said I love you. I want to be with you. Forever, always. I want to give you a normal life, just like how you've given me." He tilted his face and closed his eyes. You felt his chapped lips press softly against yours, and you stood still wide eyed. What is he doing? What were you two doing?! You just froze in place, not sure what to do. You've seen people do this lip touching thing in the club, and you thought it was gross. You never once thought that one day someone would do this to you. It felt...good... "(Y/N), do you love me?" he asked after he took his lips off of yours.

"I-....I don't know..." You were someone who grew up without love, so you didn't know what it was. You hear people say it all the time, and it sounds like the same thing as 'like,' but not quite the same.

"Do you want to be with me forever?" he changed the phrasing.

"Yes! I wanna be with you forever Touya. Just like the way we are now!"

"That's love (Y/N), but (Y/N), I don't want to stay the way we are now," he smiled. "I want better. I want better food, better house, I want you to walk without feeling pain. I want a world where we can live out in the open, where we don't have to hide. This world that has hurt us, don't you wanna change it?!"

"I-...." You had no idea what he was talking about. But one thing you did know. "I don't want to hurt people."

"You won't."

"You can't hurt people either," you said. "Promise?"

"I promise," Touya nodded as he intertwined his pinky with yours. You smiled softly at him, and he connected your lips once again.

He had to teach you from scratch what people do to show their love for one another. He didn't blame you for being so clueless, since you did practically grow up secluded from society. Slowly, he taught you how to use tongue, and he taught you how to make love.

Years passed.

You worked multiple part time minimum wage jobs to get by, and he would be out doing 'business' with that new boss of his. He would come home every other day with cash and food. You learned not to question what he does or how he got the stuff, simply because you were in no position to deny them. Deep down you knew your leg needed treatment, and maybe it was the excruciating pain, or maybe it was just your desire for that world he was always talking about, you turned a blind eye to the things he did.

You were in your early twenties when your leg completely gave out. He found you collapsed on the ground, unconscious. There were no words that could describe how he felt when he saw you laying there, almost motionless. He screamed your name until you woke up. You told him with a weak smile that you were okay, but you knew you'll never be okay. You couldn't walk anymore, so you could no longer work. No work, no income. You couldn't even tend to that small vegetable garden...

He told you not to worry, and that he would take care of it. He had saved up enough money by now. And he found a doctor he trusted, a doctor who promised to turn your legs back to normal.

Later you were admitted into a big hospital. You didn't know how he was able to get you admitted, since you didn't have an identification. However, you didn't ask. The doctor who tended to you was named Ujiko. He told you that you would be able to walk again once you finish surgery and rehabilitation.

Touya was busy with his work. He'd come to visit you in the hospital every once in a while, when he had the chance, but gradually you saw him less and less, and you missed him. You missed him a lot.

Surgery was a success, just as Ujiko promised. You were in the hospital for three months after surgery, rehabilitating and strengthening your newly repaired muscles.

When heroes started evacuating the hospital that day, you immediately knew something was wrong. And you knew it had to do with Touya. Despite never asking him, deep down you knew he was affiliated with bad people, and he did bad things. As long as he promised not to hurt innocent people you were okay with the things he potentially had to do to get by, but little did you know, that he had long broken the promise not to hurt others.

The man who groped you in the club, he killed him.

Your drug addict mother who beat you as a child, he found her and burned her alive.

Your murderer father was long dead, so there was nothing Dabi could do to him. He had made it a personal mission to kill every single person in this world that had wronged the two of you.

He was confident he hid everything from you. The things he did, the league he joined, everything. Yet why were you here? You were supposed to be in the hospital, safe. So why were you here in the midst of all the chaos?

"See ya, Hawks." He was just about to kill the hero, the one who just killed Twice. Just as he was about to increase the temperature of his fire and incinerate him for good, a large glacier of ice formed in between him and the winged man. His eyes widened, for he thought it was Shouto. That split second gave this teenage bird man just enough time to snatch Hawks and get out of here. Touya turned around and was about to throw fire at whoever messed up his plans. But his eyes widened when he saw you. You were still in that blue and white striped hospital gown, barefoot. He could see blood under your feet, probably from running over the sharp rocks and debris to get here. "Why? How did you know?"

"Touya.... Please.... Stop this," you pleaded. "No more killing."

At that point you had finally snapped out of your denial, and you faced the fact that you had guessed but never wanted to confirm. Touya was a murderer, a criminal, a villain...

Behind you, a man waved his knife. He probably thought you were a hero, and was going to kill you.

"DON'T TOUCH HER!" Touya blasted his fire at his comrade, and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you into his embrace so he could protect you from heroes and villains alike. "(Y/N), what are you doing here?!"

"Please Touya, let's just go. My legs are fine now! Let's leave this place! If it's you and me, we can definitely survive out there in the wild!" you pleaded. You grabbed his shirt in both hands, clinging onto him for your dear life. "Please! Please! I beg you!"

"It's too late now (Y/N). I can't turn back now." It was too late for him to let go of his hatred, to stop when he's so close to his goal. He had to do it. For him. For you.

You shook your head. It's not too late. You knew it wasn't too late. With your power and his, you two can get out of here easily. Escape to somewhere where no one can find you. "Touya...."

His eyes softened when he looked into your beautiful watery orbs. He gently locked his lips with yours, and placed his hands over your ears, as if trying to block out all the screaming and crying from your world. You deserve better. He'll give you better.

You felt him push something into your mouth with his tongue. Once he made sure you swallowed it, he pulled away from you face. "Sleep my love. By the time you wake up, you will be in a changed world." He smiled gently at you, the smile you gavr him, the smile he only showed you. Your head became hazy as your vision blacked. You fell limp into his arms, and you could no longer move a muscle. You weren't fully unconscious, you could still make out sounds, though they sounded muffled and staggered.

While you were out, you could hear him talk. You heard him talk about his identity, his past, the abuse, and his sins. Everything he hid from you all these years, you heard it through that half conscious state. Tears streamed down your closed lids as he uncovered the dark secrets of the hero society. You were the one who gave him this chance. You were the one who helped him regain speech. You were the one who helped him tear down this society. You were the one who replaced the lower jaw bone he had burned off.

Touya... Stop... This isn't what I want. I just want to be with you. That's it. Please Touya... Stop this madness.

Too late. He had already destroyed society. He was ready to burn the whole world down, and rebuild it for you. He will tear down this hellhole and build a heaven, a place where an angel like you belong.

Fin

A/N: if you liked this story please feel free to check out my wattpad for more BNHA oneshots!

https://my.w.tt/JT91aC2spbb

#dabi oneshot #dabi #bnha fanfic #mha #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #bnha spoilers #bnha chapter 291 #mha spoilers #touya todoroki #angsty #fluffy #love strories #dabi angst #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfic

[wkemeup]

In Defense

inbox request: “I’m sure you’ll get a ton of requests for more Peter with BAON, so I’m putting in mine. Maybe a glimpse into what Peter and Bucky’s dynamic look like now. So glad this isn’t completely over with yet 🥰” by @stormygeorgia​ ❤️ pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 1.5k warnings: mentions of physical altercations, cleaning wounds, peter is (ง •̀_•́)ง a/n:  loving these requests! I’ve still got more in my inbox and you’re welcome to send more in too! Just as fyi, I won’t be able to do them all, but I appreciate the inspiration and support!  🌹series masterlist 🌹

“Don’t be mad.”

Bucky closed his eyes, pinched hard at the bridge of his nose as he listened to Peter’s labored breaths through the speaker of his phone. He glanced around the empty apartment, thankful Nat had swung by to take you out downtown because if you caught sight of Peter after a call like this, the kid wouldn’t be the only one in trouble.

“Again?” Bucky groaned, already reaching for his keys on the kitchen table. He could practically picture the way Peter often shrugged his shoulders and scratched nervously at the back of his neck.  

“He was talking bad about Y/n,” Peter explained simply. “I didn’t have a choice.”

It was all he had to say. Bucky still remembered the first day Peter showed up at the apartment with a black eye and a busted lip, blood dripping down his chin because he got into a fight with some kid at school. He had begged Bucky not to tell you and he kept his word. You didn’t need another layer of guilt on your conscious now that Peter was running head first into fist fights at school because some snot nosed punk couldn’t keep your name out of their mouth.

“Where are you?” Bucky asked as he locked the door behind him, quickly jogging down the stairs. Before Peter could answer, Bucky shouldered open the main door into the warm summer air, only to find Peter standing on the sidewalk with an apologetic expression on his face, phone held up to his ear.

“Hi Bucky.”

He looked worse than last time. His right eye was near swollen shut, red and puffy and gathering blue and purple along the edges. His lip was busted open down the center, blood trickling down his neck, and a jagged cut on his cheekbone from where a ring must have caught the skin. It was an injury Bucky was familiar with.

“You look like shit, kid.”

Peter chuckled, staring down at the sidewalk. “I know.”

“You’re lucky Y/n isn’t home.”

“She should still be at the office for another hour,” Peter nodded. He glanced up at Bucky with that puppy dog look in his eyes, big and round even through the swelling, and dammit, Bucky had a hard time saying no to the kid.

“Alright, alright, get inside,” Bucky caved, stepping aside from the door and gesturing for Peter to come in.

A smile broke out on his face, though he winced when it tugged at the split in his lip. Backpack still strapped at his shoulders, he bounded up the stairs, the box of pencils rattling inside his bag with every step.

He knew his way around the apartment and waited patiently for Bucky to unlock the door before he stepped out of his muddied sneakers, tossed his bag to the chair at the kitchen table and slumped onto the couch. A pillow was already held tight in his lap before Bucky even turned on a light.

“What was it this time?” Bucky asked as he made his way to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. Digging through the drawers next to your makeup bag, hair pins, and cotton swabs, Bucky pulled out the small box. He made his way back to the living room to find Peter wringing his hands in his lap.

“I don’t even know the guy,” Peter replied casually. “He’s a senior, I think.”

Bucky sat down next to Peter, gesturing for his hand where his knuckles were bloody and scarred. Peter hissed as the alcohol wipe touched the skin.

“Apparently, there was some kind of special on the news last night about the Hydra takedown and, I don’t know, I guess they had a whole segment on Y/n,” Peter continued, his voice growing harder, angrier. It wasn’t a tone Bucky was used to hearing in the kid but he knew how much Peter cared for you. It didn’t surprise him at all.

“I didn’t hear about that,” Bucky commented as he wiped the dried blood from Peter’s hands and set the dirtied cloth on the table. 

He was usually more in tuned with those things in an effort to keep them from you. The months following the arrests and trials were hell for you. The constant reminders. The photographers planted outside your office and following you home. Looking over your shoulder to the point Bucky started escorting you to work and had Sam drive you home after. You didn’t need more of that.

Peter nodded, jaw clenched tight as Bucky wrapped is knuckles. “Yeah. This jerk kept talking about how Y/n should have gone down with the rest of Hydra, that she got off easy. It’s bullshit.”

Bucky had heard the whispers. He knew the gossip. He’d seen the people point in your direct and talk amongst themselves as you’d walk by. You tried to ignore it, tried to let it brush off your shoulder, but he knew how much it bothered you. Even with Rumlow dead and gone, he was still infecting your life, casting you to a shadow you didn’t ask for.

Bucky sighed, moving to work on the cuts on Peter’s face, though he had a hard time sitting still.

“He just wouldn’t shut up about it either,” Peter grumbled, wincing as the alcohol stung against his cheek. “Kept going on and on as if he had some high and mighty opinion on the whole thing. He even had the nerve to say that she didn’t deserve to walk free ‘after all she did’ as if she wasn’t manipulated and blackmailed into an abusive marriage to a freaking psychopath!”

“I know, pal.” Bucky kept his voice even, his tone calm, but he felt that same rage. He’d grown tired of watching the whole world give their two cents on what you deserved and the nature of your heart. Everyone from esteemed journalists to late night hosts to twitter feeds and facebook. Everyone had an opinion.

“It’s not fair!” Peter hissed, tugging his head away as Bucky worked to clean the open wounds on his face. He clenched his jaw and stilled again, allowing Bucky to work. “That guy shouldn’t have been talking about Y/n like that. I told him to stop and he didn’t. I had to do something.”

Bucky exhaled, leaning back against the couch after he’d applied the last of the badges to the cut on Peter’s cheek. It was the best he was going to get.

“I get it, Pete,” Bucky shrugged. Peter looked at him with wide eyes, half expecting a lecture. Bucky shook his head. “I get why you did it. It’s not easy to hear that kind of stuff about someone you love. It takes a lot out of me not to throw punches at every guy that whispers under his breath as I walk by with her. I want to, but I don’t. Because I know it upsets her more when I put myself in situations where I can get hurt than if some asshole is talking shit about things he doesn’t understand.”

“But—”

“She knows when you’re avoiding her,” Bucky continued. “She’s smart, kid. She knows you’re not falling down the stairs and getting your knuckles scraped up like that.”

Peter slumped further into the cushions, sinking into the couch and tugging the pillow tight to his chest.

“I know you mean well,” Bucky said, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder and give it a tight squeeze. “You’re looking out for her. You want people to know her the way you do. Just try to avoid the fist fights, alright? I think she’d be happier if you were in one piece than if some pretentious senior at your high school changed his opinion of her.”

Peter chuckled, a small smile breaking through. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good man.”

“Can I stay for dinner?” Peter asked, the boyish youth quickly returning to his voice.

“Gonna be hard to keep that swollen eye and the bandages from Y/n,” Bucky warned, a smirk upon his face as he hulled himself up from the couch.

“I know.” Peter shrugged. “Figure she probably knows anyway, right?”

Bucky chuckled, nodding. “Almost definitely.”

“Well then,” Peter jumped up beside Bucky. “Might as well make her spaghetti and meatballs to offset the blow.”

He was halfway to the panty before Bucky could even respond that you’d planned on picking up sushi on your way home. He smiled, watching at Peter scrambled around the kitchen in search of a pan, insisting he do the whole thing himself, and Bucky resided to texting you to skip the takeout.

He’d let Peter tell you the rest when you walked into an apartment filled to the brim with oregano and garlic bread.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[oyesmendes]

all i wanted was a happy ending

a/n: it’s been a hot minute hasn’t it???? anyway, summer’s ended and we’re in the new semester which is #tragic because im still doing online school and i barely see my friends. but ya here’s one that’s been sitting in my inbox for awhile, probably gna get yelled at bc its an angst piece but yknow what? suCK IT jk i hope you enjoy as always, leave me a message!!

trigger warning: mention of cheating, general angst and a couple of baby swears

It felt like a war in her own home. Hurtful words shot like bullets through the wreckage. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Shawn and Kiara were supposed to be happy. But somehow through the year long world tour, señorita and the fourth album, they seemed to have lost their way. Date nights were reduced to once a month, and nights in were converted to screaming matches and cold wars. Every moment spent together was a battle against each other, tonight was no different. Shawn doesn’t even remember what the argument was about anymore, they were now just pulling shit out from the past to use as their ammunition.

“Don’t pin this on me, Kiara.”

“I never pinned it on you, Shawn. I’m just stating facts that are known to the whole world. Don’t tell me you don’t see those rumours about you and Camila? And don’t tell me they aren’t true.” She grimaces at the way Camila’s name rolls of her tongue, and the way that her thick Mexican accent starts to peak out when she’s mad.

“They’re not true.” He tries to defend. Kiara scoffs, taking a couple steps away from Shawn.

“Everyone knows you’ve had a thing for her since you were a literal child, Shawn. Don’t need to treat me like an idiota.”

“I wasn’t treating you like an idiot.” Shawn seethed.

“Then tell me the truth!”

“That is the truth, Kiara! I love you, and not her! Why can’t you just believe that we’re just friends?”

“Because I’m not a cabrón. Friends don’t look at each other like that! I recognise the way you look at her, Shawn. It’s the same look you gave me when we first started dating. When you and her had that awkward phase and she was barely in your life, you gave me that look - like I was the most important thing in the world to you.” The part comes out like a whisper and she feels her heart physically break. Shawn watches Kiara walk the borders of the room, eyes fixated on the lines of the tiles on the floor. He wants to stop her from pacing, hold her close so he can stop his mind from racing a thousand miles an hour. But he doesn’t. Instead he keeps his feet planted to the ground, body slumped in defeat as he just watches her.

“You are the most important thing in the entire world to me, honey.” Tears prick at her eyes when he uses her pet name. Kiara knows why this fight started even if Shawn didn’t. It has been a storm that was brewing inside of her for weeks. She had seen an article of Shawn and Camila cozying up on each other when he was away on tour. She didn’t think much of it at first, trusted Shawn with her whole heart. But after more rumours spread and some of her friends asking if she was okay, Kiara finally had enough. A thunderstorm ensued, and it was in no way relaxing for either of them.

“Am I really?” Kiara finally looks up at him, and he nods so eagerly that for a moment she thinks she shouldn’t bring the article up. But the anger makes her hands work faster than her mind, scrolling through her phone to the article her best friend had sent her a couple weeks ago. It was a picture of Camila, with her legs wrapped around Shawn and passionately kissing him on the streets of Nashville. She feels the bile rise in her throat looking at the picture again. He could say that the picture was blur as hell, but anyone who knew them would know that the head of luscious brown locks belonged to Shawn.

“Then explain to me, Shawn. What is this?” She shoves the phone shakily into his hands and he feels his heart plummet to his feet. When he doesn’t respond, Kiara nods her her head and looks at him in disappointment.

“Yeah, I thought so too.”  

“I-I wanted to tell you and-“ Shawn scrambles to find the right words, though at this point his efforts seem to be futile.

“When Shawn? When did you want to tell me? Because this picture has been sitting in my phone since the night it happened. I’ve tried so hard to push it out of my mind, and amor I’ve really tried. I didn’t want to give myself a reason to ever use it. But you- you picking fights, and in between tour and the fourth album - we’re no longer the same anymore, and I can’t help but think that this is the reason.” Shawn drops the phone to the table, approaching Kiara and touching her arm. She flinches, moving away from him.

“Don’t.”

Shawn drops his arms to the side.

“Mila was my first real love, Ki.” The way both hers and Camila’s nicknames roll off his tongue so easily in the situation makes Kiara’s stomach churn. He runs his fingers through his hair and continues, “She used to be my world - but that was the past. And that photo, we just haven’t seen each other in awhile and we got really excited so she-“

“So she jumps on to you like you’re her chico amante at the airport? So she kisses you like she’s your fucking girlfriend? That’s some top notch bullshit, Shawn. I thought you’d try harder than that.”

“If you would just let me explain-”

“If you haven’t noticed, there’s nothing left to explain.”

Kiara turns on her heel towards their shared bed room and Shawn’s following closely behind her.

“Don’t walk away from this, Kiara Anne!” In the heat of the moment he raises his voice and Kiara stops dead in her tracks, almost making Shawn crash straight into her.

“You have no right to tell me what to do, Shawn Peter Raul Mendes. You lost your rights ever since that night. I gave you weeks to come clean, to tell me the truth. Instead, you choose to pick fights in every possible situation.” She pokes his chest with her finger when she so desperately wants for someone, for him, to hold her. She wraps her arms around her torso in replacement, willing her tears not to fall.

“All I wanted was a happy ending, Shawn. All my life, I just wanted a happy ending. It didn’t need to be a fairytale happily ever after bullshit, I just wanted to be happy with someone who loved me. I thought it would be with you.” Kiara backs up against the wall, her head tilted back. “Guess the jokes on me huh?” She let’s out a humourless laugh.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” Shawn rubs her arm. She doesn’t move from her spot, and she’s given up on holding back her tears. When her eyes meet Shawn’s, she’s pushing his arms off hers and squirming her way out from the small space between them. Kiara turns to look at him again, and this time the words that spill from her mouth are laced with pain,

“Sorry doesn’t fix anything.”

#shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes x reader #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn angst #shawn mendes angst

[silenceofthecookies]

Hii!✨Congrats on the followers!! 😊 Can i ask Green Tea for Mihawk? Thx so much!! 💕✨

Hi Liru! Thank you! ❤ You sure picked yourself a good Halloween treat. The prompt will be marked in bold and there are no warnings needed! Enjoy! 

Happy Halloween! ❤

You stepped out of the boat and looked around. The island was dark and all the trees were dead. There was no trace of life aside from you and the man next to you. Normally, you wouldn’t even have thought about setting foot on this foreboding island. But it was the home of the man you loved. And he had finally invited you to come over.

The two of you had been together for quite some time already. Mihawk would often come to visit you, but he always said his island was ‘no place for anyone but a pirate’. Because of that, he never let you come there. You also knew that for the last few years, Mihawk had two visitors living with him. Two other pirates, uninvited guests who he had not chased out for some reason. So of course, you said that you could always use the same strategy. Arrive uninvited and stay there. Mihawk, knowing you were capable of actually doing that, or at least trying, gave in. He didn’t want you wandering the island on your own, the humandrills were too dangerous.

That’s how Mihawk had picked you up in his little coffin-shaped boat, and how you had now arrived on Kuraigana Island. As you looked around, Mihawk stepped out of his boat too and tied it to the little pier. He then wrapped an arm around your waist as he started walking.

“Stay close, the humandrills know better than to attack me, but they won’t think twice about attacking you if you stray.”

You nodded and leaned into him a bit, taking full advantage of the situation. Mihawk noticed and chuckled as he continued walking. The scenery did not get any better. All plants were still dead, and once you got a little while from the shore, you could spot huge monkey-like creatures with weapons, hiding between the trees. The glare in their eyes told that they would strike at the first point of weakness. It unnerved you a little, and you were glad to have Mihawk by your side.

All worry about the humandrills disappeared the moment you saw the castle though. It was no fairy tale castle, but it was still an impressive piece of architecture, and very beautiful despite the somewhat eery feel it had to it. Mihawk chuckled at your awestruck expression and opened the door, letting you enter the building.

The inside of the castle reminded you even more of a classic vampire novel than the outside. Once you entered the castle, the first room you entered seemed to be fairly normal, except that it was rather empty. Once you passed through the double doors at the end of the room though, the feeling of being in a novel really hit you. It was a gigantic room, pretty much empty. High pillars supported the ceiling, and the ceiling itself used to have a painting on it. Most of the paint had already flaked off, and the parts that were still intact were covered in cobwebs. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that there were gargoyles close to the ceiling as well. To your left was a gigantic staircase leading up to the next floor, there was a hallway to the right, and another set of double doors right in front of you.

Mihawk proceeded to give you a rundown of the castle. There were hidden corridors and passageways everywhere. He even mentioned Zoro found a few of those on accident, and Perona helped explore the rooms behind locked doors.

The prettiest place was the chapel, which Mihawk had turned into a library. The room was well-lit with gigantic windows, and the stained glass windows almost gave an otherworldly feel to it. Mihawk described the way it looked when he found it, with rotten and broken benches and an altar full of battle marks, and you were surprised he managed to turn it around this much. There was one thing that bothered you about this place though.

“Mihawk, it’s freezing in here.” “It always is for some reason. It’s very refreshing in the summer. I think Perona mentioned something about ghosts living here. I did have to clean up some dead bodies from the chapel when I came to live here.” Mihawk said casually as he shrugged off his coat and put it around your shoulders. Shivers ran up your spine as you heard the story. Mihawk chuckled when he saw your fear. “Worry not, Y/N. There are no such things as ghosts. And if there are, I have never seen them, nor have they bothered me.”

His words did not comfort you, and you pulled his coat tighter around yourself, as if it was a magical relic that would protect you from any spirits. It didn’t help that the sun was already setting, casting an eerie red glow into the former chapel. Looking around, you felt like there was someone else in the room, someone apart from you and Mihawk. You heard Mihawk say something about getting changed before dinner as he pulled you away from the room. After staring at the room for a little while longer, you tore your eyes away from it, focussing on your boyfriend instead.

Dinner was nice, and after that the two of you had made yourself comfortable in front of the fireplace. It was nice to finally be there with him, but the uneasy feeling you got in the chapel never left. Despite the room being perfectly warm, you still caught yourself looking though the room from time to time, half expecting to find a spirit standing in a corner of the room, or to see an orb of light floating by. All the things you had heard from the stories. You never told Mihawk, but he caught you looking around the room every now and then. He knew very well he had scared you a little with his story but to be honest, your reactions amused him, and he was even enjoying teasing you a little.

When you asked him if he had heard that sound too, the sound of a humandrill outside the castle, he answered he hadn’t heard it. When a the flames made a sudden move in the wind, causing your head to read around at the change of lighting, he casually ask if something was wrong, only to hear you pretend to not have seen anything. Probably the most amusing thing was that you refused to take off his coat, even if it was a little big on you. He didn’t mind though, he had already put on his dress shirt and wasn’t planning on wearing his coat until he left the castle.

Time flew by, and soon it was time to go to bed. Mihawk and you walked up the stairs to the bedrooms, where Mihawk asked you a question he already knew the answer to.

“Would you like to have your own room, Y/N?”

Finally, you stopped holding back your thoughts.

“Are you mad? There’s freaking ghosts out here! They’ve been looking at me all night, I can feel it! I’m sleeping with you and that’s that!”

Mihawk nodded and opened the door to his bedroom, gesturing for you to go inside with a slight smile that he couldn’t hide anymore. He knew you’d be curled up in his arms all night, and to be honest, he wasn’t complaining.

#opfics #mihawk imagine #mihawk x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece #dracule mihawk #cookie writes #scenario #200 followers event #requested #lirulee

[dnarez]

Chapter 2

After a lot of thinking she came with the decision to go to some isolated place, a small town on the mountains in Greece, on a hot Summer, with just the locals and some merchants, perfect.

Y/n could make money from leaves, could turn rocks into diamonds, so she doesn't really need to worry about that.

Passing as a young woman, that knows her ways into the plants and natural remedies, made her popular in the small time that she spent there.

.

.

.

Taking a deep breath and stretching after long hours of being sat down was extremely reliving.

As the village only person with knowledge about medicine, it's normal for people to come asking for help in the late hours of the night, and just like any normal Monday, even before the sunrise show up. Y/n just helped some old couple with knee pain, a new mom to deliver her baby and the newly married of the village needed some remedies for the guy's little friend.

The goddess was tired but decided that she would walk her way home, in the morning a lot of people walk around, too risky to teleport.

'I probably look like a living dead....' Y/n huffs while calmly walking up the hill, but as soon as she arrives at her small cottage she is greeted by a man that is using full Spartan armor, his back to her while he knocks on the door.

She stops on her tracks before getting to him and shout "WHAT DO YOU WANT HERE???" While clutching her small purse.

"Oh!" He turns around, and now she was able to see that he's hurt "Hi! Sorry for intruding, but I'm actually bleeding right now, and would really appreciate if you could find the healer that lives here.

She huffs "You are looking at her" Y/n crosses her arms "Why would I help you? You are part of the people that raped and killed half of this small village! If I help you, and you survive what will happen to me?! What will happen to them????" her anger was getting the better of her, the ground  shook enough to get her attention, Y/n calmed herself as possible, while glaring at the spartan in front of her.

"They will never find you, I promise, please! I-I.... I will become your slave even!" the man that still had his helmet on, was breath ragged while clutching to his side where it was coming a lot of blood out of.

"Now you are stepping on your honor, I thought that all Spartans wanted to die in battle, that it was the best place to die and why-"

"I RUN AWAY FROM BATTLE!" he shouted with his shoulders shaking "I run away! I am a coward! A fucking good for nothing of a general!" the spartan threw his helmet away "I am a coward that is afraid to die and would do anything to survive! So please! I'm begging you!" his knees hit the floor, and he bows his head "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" his sobs can be heard clearly.

The world had stopped for Y/n(metaphorically), when brown eyes meet with golden ones she held her breath, analyzing his eyes, the cute shape of his thin iris, his tick eyelashes that made it look like he had makeup on, beautiful gold locks that made him look angelical, OH! how sinful this scene was, him on his knees begging for her help, it made the goddess feel powerful, even thou she had numerous people kneeling in front of her, this was different... a good type of different, she felt a hit on her lower body, even if he was bloodied with his on and the enemies blood, all dirty with dirt from the floor.

To her eyes, he was perfect, all flawed just like any other human, but that made him even better, after a long pause she came back from admiring him, listening again to him babbling about how he could be useful to her, she put both her hand on his shoulder and made him look into her eyes.

The immortal being almost lost concentration of her "magic" her eyes blinked for a second as e/c instead of the fake brown, he had such a big impact on her from just a few seconds together.

Y/n gave him a sweet smile and said "It's true I do need more hands here"

He sighed relived "Thank you... thank you so much!" but as soon as he got up, he fell face first on the ground.

"Oh my..." Y/n petted his hair "It's okay, you can sleep now, I will help you in exchange for your soul, so sleep well little bird"

As he fell unconscious he felt an enormous amount of pain from his heart, like something was being pulled from inside him, no longer being able to keep conscience he passed out.

.

.

.

(changing the POV right now)

You were so happy! He felt as light as a feather as you picked him up bridal style and put him on the only bed that that the small cottage had, working quickly to take care of him, his wound was deadly, if he had gone to any other healer, he would have died.

Just the thought of not having him in your life made you frantic, how sweet! You earned for him already, you were... in love? Yes! That must be it!

Oh! Now you know how everything feels. Every little feeling you know about it now, the feeling of love is the way you want to hold their hand, the way you want to kiss those lips, the way that when your eye meet you feel butterflies on your stomach, the way that you want to kiss all over his body, the way you want him to touch you, the way you want him to look at only you, the way that you want him to never leave your sight, the way you want him to stay forever with you

Oh

How wonderful it is to feel love.

Looking at his now pale face makes you heal him, not too much to be suspicious, but enough so that he won't die, while undressing him you see his body, he's now yours, you can touch him however you want it.

Your hand pets his stomach but stops there. "He needs rest, when he's better I can finally put this genitalia to work" you give him a sweet smile and kisses his cheek, then goes back to cleaning and bandage him.

"Have sweet dreams" but as you go to bless his sleep with good dreams you stop for a second, he just went through a terrible experience, if he has nightmares, and he wakes up, you can console him and then bless his dreams, yes! That is an excellent plan! That way you will make him think that he NEEDS you, just like you need him, oh! How delightful!

You step back and sit on the chair next to the empty fireplace, and you just... watch him.

#mha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #mha #bnha x reader #bnha hawks #bnha x y/n #bnha #reader #reader insert #xreader #x reader #yandere #yandere reader #yandere reader insert #hawks #hawk x reader #hawks x reader #Hawk #takami keigo #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #keigo #takami

[kosmosguk]

upcoming works | sneak peeks

to make up for the lack of posting for the past 2 weeks, here are snippets (in no particular order) of the beginnings of the ROUGH and very UNEDITED/incomplete drafts of upcoming fics that I’ve been working on while I’ve been gone to get you guys excited for the future schedule <3 ty for nearly 1.9k followers. All works, unless specified, are MATURE. 

if you guys are interested in a particular work, tell me about it and the ones that are more popular--as I will have more motivation to write them--will get finished faster!

a millennium of red strings | fox demon jungkook x reader 

Summary: a thousand years ago, jungkook and you were lovers in a world nearly destroyed by national strife. a millennium ago, jungkook held your dead body in his arms, powerless and unable to stop you from taking your last breath, and a millennium ago, jungkook sacrificed one of his tails for another chance for your reincarnation. A thousand years later, jungkook’s wish for your life is finally fulfilled by the god of destiny, but this time, jungkook, with hands stained by human hearts and a hunger for power, is no longer the wide-eyed adolescent boy with too many hopes to be fulfilled and too many weaknesses that you fell in love with. And this time, a millennium and a thousand human hearts later, he’ll go to drastic lengths to ensure that harm will never come your way.

You reached out a finger outside of your window to stroke the petals of the peonies your brother had planted you before he had left for war. He said that when he came back, he would buy you new clothes embroidered with blooming red peonies. Your fingers touched wet coarse fabric instead of the delicate soft petals you were expecting. Your mouth opened in a scream as you launched your body back in alarm, but a cold hand firmly clamped itself over your mouth as the figure in front of your window launched into your room and pushed you to the ground. The window shut behind the figure with a firm clack.

“Don’t say anything. If you do, I’ll claw your heart out and eat it, human.’’

The voice that spoke was the voice of a young man. You tried to push him off of you when your hands brushed against something soft and furry—was it an animal’s ears? You swallowed the gasp that threatened to bubble up in your throat and paused in your struggling when you heard sounds coming from outside.

You heard footsteps slap against the mud outside of your room, and you clamped your eyes shut. Something in your gut told you that whoever was outside would do much more damage to you than the demon currently in your room.

Several minutes after the sound of footsteps stopped, the demon pushed you away. You frantically got up to your feet, trying to remember your mother’s words when it came to demons. They were scared of light; you had to get to your candle. You grabbed onto it, splashing hot wax onto your hands in your hurry, to brandish at the strange fox demon.

Your mouth fell open at the sight. The gumiho was…beautiful? In the faint light of the candle, you could clearly see his features, especially since his hood had fallen off in the middle of your earlier struggle. He had wide doe-eyes, like an innocent animal, and pretty features that were on the brink of developing into a surely extremely handsome face. His figure was lanky from what you could see of him underneath the thick red cloak he was wearing. He reminded you of the men depicted in ink paintings of mythology where demons would come down and take the form of beautiful human beings to suck the energy from humans and eat their flesh.

You realized he was looking at you weirdly, and your cheeks burned as you realized that you had called him beautiful out loud without thinking.

“You’re not…scary?’’ the fox demon in front of you spoke.

You pointed at yourself.

“Aren’t you a gumiho?’’ you knew you were speaking crudely, but he was trespassing into your room. “What do you mean I’m scary? If anything, I should be the one terrified of you! I’m the human here!’’

The gumiho blinked his pretty eyes at you in surprise, his mouth opening to say something before you interrupted him, speaking rapidly in hopes that he wouldn’t find his next meal in you.

“I saved you by letting you into my room, so you can’t kill me, gumiho! Killing your savior would be a crime punishable by heaven. I don’t taste good anyways, I bet; I probably taste like mud and bitter herbs, so don’t even think about it!’’

The fox demon laughed, the sound clear and youthful. You were an amusing human being, weren’t you?

“I agree with you. I don’t feel like you’d make a good meal anyways. I suppose the heavens will punish me if I eat my savior, so I promise to not eat you. In exchange for saving me, I’ll give you my name. I’m Jungkook. If you have a wish, tell me it, and I’ll see if I can grant it’’

“Jungkook,’’ you beamed in relief at having your life for another night, and, without thinking clearly, you put out your hand for him to shake.

“I’ll tell you my name since you promised not to eat me. I’m (y/n). You better not forget it! I’d want you to save my brother, but you look young for a demon and not powerful, so while I’m waiting for my brother to come home, you should come visit me often.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his ears flicking in confusion. Your wish…You really were an interesting human being. He almost made a fuss at you calling him not powerful; he was stronger than humans, for sure, but something kept him from saying that aloud. Some strange part of him didn’t want to scare you. He reached out anyways, clasping his hand around your softer and smaller one. Your hand was really warm; he almost didn’t want to let go. And you seemed nice, too, unlike the humans his master often told him of who were greedy and didn’t deserve the hearts they were bestowed with. Perhaps some part of him wanted to spend time with you.

He had to leave though; with a nod of goodbye and a twitch of an ear, Jungkook disappeared into the rain in which he had emerged from.

You couldn’t help but think to yourself: you really were a fool to ask a demon to come spend time with you. Why did your mouth never comply with what you really thought? You jutted out your lip in frustration, though the slight hint of joy touched your heart at the thought of company.

lineage 2 | duke yoongi x princess reader 

Summary:  When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.

You were dreaming, at least that’s what it felt like to you. Some part of your mind knew that this was simply too vivid to be merely a dream, too real to simply be a figment of imagination spurred by an anxious mind. But you had never experienced this moment. You had no memories of this kind.

Flashes of someone’s life blinked in front of you, but the strange thing was, you were that someone. You were in their body; the skin and bones and flesh that made up them were also the same that made up you. The flashes stopped, blending colors stilling to spill a stark image onto a blank canvas as a particular memory unfolded before your eyes. You could feel the breeze of a summer’s day drift through strands of your hair, hear the soft whispering of the trees and the giggling of little fairies dancing in the wind and on your bare shoulders and arms. Their feet tapped against your skin in the giddiness of a rapid dance, the ticklish feeling causing you to let out a careless giggle as you swayed with them.

“The earth is singing. It coos and breathes and exhales its own melody,’’ the you in the dream spoke airily,’’ I can feel the song of nature in me, my child’s first breath, though that may sound quite trite to many.’’

It seemed like you were talking to yourself, or maybe even the fairies still dancing around and on you. That is, until dream you lifted your head towards another direction that you had been previously facing. The fairies all screeched before falling quiet, a silence so ominous and different compared to their previous activeness, and you could no longer feel their small feet lightly itching your skin. The air seemed to cool, the shifting from a summer’s day to a winter’s night.

“Well, I suppose you’re the only one who doesn’t find me so strange. I’m surprised you haven’t gone running from the first sight of the me behind the façade I put on before the Council. You either want what runs in my veins or…you must truly love me. Isn’t that right, Yoongi?’’

Arms wrapped around your body, and you could feel the weight of someone’s head on your shoulder. That someone pressed a soft kiss against your delicate neck before laughing hoarsely against your skin, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. The voice was familiar. Yoongi? But why was he here? You had no control over your actions, however, trapped in the body of this someone who only giggled elatedly and maneuvered her body closer to the man.

“I can never go against you, can I? You know it’s the latter choice. My goddess…you are truly my—.”

His voice cut off, but you could feel his mouth still moving against your neck to form the last word. The dream was crumbling before you. You could feel the last sensations of the mirage you were experiencing dissipating into thin air, cracking into small bits and pieces.

As you woke up, the word he had mouthed lingered in your mind before fading like your dream had.

Obsession.

bloody artistry | celebrity taehyung x journalist reader 

Summary: when the scrutiny of fame becomes too much, perfect kim taehyung finds his peace within a lavish bathroom located two blocks away from the nearest club, a corpse in the bed with him. the fans have never questioned his behavior, not when his company is much too good at cleaning up his mess to not have done it before, but when a reporter with too many questions threatens to break the peace he’s established, he finds himself in a tango with the devil that he can’t bring himself to want to break.

Your mind was in a haze, and you didn’t notice the man next to you until he was nearly pressed to your side, barely leaving a gap of space between the both of you.

You glanced at him, your tipsy mind sobering up as you realized who the man next to you was. Kim Taehyung? What the fuck was he doing here?

‘‘Another drink for a pretty lady?” Taehyung’s teeth showed as he charmingly flashed a coquettish smile at you, his already extremely handsome features increasing in beauty from the grin.

You remembered Jungkook’s words and a chill ran up your spine, causing goosebumps to rise up on your skin and freezing you to the bar table. God, were you his next victim?

You swallowed dryly, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. The reckless journalist in you wanted to take a leap of faith at the headliner just out of reach, but the rational side of you knew that that leap of faith had a much bigger chance of you ending up disappearing off for a new job opportunity overseas, as Taehyung’s company would have it. You couldn’t write a good story if you were dead, after all.

‘‘Thank you, but I can pay for my own drinks,” your lips twitched as you forced them into a convincingly gentle smile, refusing his offer softly and moving your body casually a few inches away from him,” Drinking drinks bought by strangers isn’t really my thing.”

Your smile must’ve looked less nervous than you really felt and a hell of a lot convincing because Taehyung’s stiff shoulders seemed to relax at your words.

There was a dark gleam to his eyes when he pushed his body near yours and whispered softly into your ears.

‘‘If you’re scared of strangers, why don’t we get to know each other a little bit?”

Your fake smile grew stiff on your face. You felt like you were going to hurl the convenience meal ramen you had scarfed before coming to the bar all over the bar and Taehyung’s expensive looking clothes. You could feel the sense of dread in your bones, the kind a prey animal would feel as a predator focused their sharp eyes on their weaker body.

You forced a fake laugh, trying to drive the message that you were just not interested to Taehyung. “No thanks, I have enough people I’m close to. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve left my friend alone for far too long on the dance floor.”

You pushed yourself off the bar table, flashing a polite smile before you headed over to the dance floor, trying to keep your pace slow and steady instead of the run you wanted to do.

Taehyung inhaled the lingering scent of your perfume, a smell that sweetly layered itself over the damp musky air of the club. His eyes, even as you tried to focus on the pounding music and forget the fear embedded deeply in your gut, never seemed to leave your form, even when you burrowed yourself deeply into the crowd away from his view.

divinity | god taehyung x demon reader 

Summary: it’s a classic tale: two lovers from two different worlds united by the red string of fate only to be tragically severed by their worlds. but for taehyung, who’s lived thousands of years as the high god of beauty and the arts, a classic tale will forever remain a classic tale. well, that is until he finds one of the injured from the enemy forces in his realm, and he can’t help but desire the perfect happy ending to a classic tale with you, even if it means forcing apart the barricade of tragedy that separates you from him.

Taehyung traced the swirls of ivory and scatters of porcelain in the white marble table mindlessly, his eyes barely focused on the scenery in front of his eyes. The warmth of Heaven’s sun soaked into the soft white cloth of his tunic and into his skin, and a cool breeze ruffled his soft pale locks, sending wisps of thin strands to frame his beautiful face. The sight of him looking so ethereal would’ve inspired mortal artwork had he not been alone.

All was peaceful in his realm, with not even a servant to flit nearby the pensive god; it was much too peaceful. Peace, after centuries of war with the demon clan, was not a fortune that was often bestowed upon Taehyung. Although he was the god of beauty and art, his rank as a high god forced him to take a large role in the war. It wasn’t until today that he was given a break to go rest at his home after Jungkook, the god of war, returned back to base after winning a bloody victory against one of the demon clan’s more powerful forces. 

But peace never lasted long when one was in the middle of a war, not in the mortal world and certainly not up in the heavens.

Taehyung knew something was off in his realm. He could feel it, the warning of a trespasser humming underneath his skull and throbbing in the tips of his fingers. 

Was it a rouge fairy? Maybe even one of his own? Or was it an enemy?

There was no one else in his realm with him besides lower-level fairies to act as his servants, everyone else having been forced away to the king’s realm in order to give Taehyung a much-needed break from the worries and chaos of war. The servants would be unable to fight off an intruder if they were high-level enough, but Taehyung knew that the barriers he had erected around his realm when he was at the height of power would hold steadfast against most high-level demons, or any beings that had desire to harm him, or at least stave them off long enough for reinforcements to come.

Taehyung quickly pushed himself up from his seat when he heard a crackle of gravel and stone underfoot. How did the enemy manage to get past his barriers so quickly? That was impossible. 

He slowly walked over, his footsteps silent against the ground, to the bush where he had heard the soft sounds of rustling come from, and the heavy odor of spilled blood invaded his sense of smell. 

There was a figure on the ground, blood dripping from a torn hole in their dark attire and staining the gravel the body was limply laying on. Taehyung stood their silently, his eyes unblinking, before the figure rolled over to face him, their body sagging as they finally lifted up their head, the hood of their clothes covering their features from Taehyung’s gaze.

‘‘Help me,” they croaked out desperately.

yandere bts world | seokjin x reader 

Summary:  [ENTERING KIM SEOKJIN’S ROUTE: CHECK IN...TO MY HEART!] Kim Seokjin, a hotel intern with dreams of being a top-class hotelier, finds a golden opportunity to fulfill his dream when he is forced to watch over a VIP customer’s difficult child. You, now as a pastry chef for the hotel’s kitchen, showing up should’ve just boosted his journey to fulfilling his dream, but each choice you make seems to lead you further away from the dreamy perfect ending and closer to a particularly bad ending. 

You could tell who it was right away. With his breathtakingly handsome features and heart-shaped lips parted slightly, Kim Seokjin lived up to the looks he frequently boasted about on the videos you spent hours watching. But he wasn’t on the other end of a screen anymore, glass and plastic against your thumb, he was here, real and in the flesh. But you could tell, with his dye-free hair and butler-like suit, that the Seokjin before you was not the Jin that you knew before the game started.

‘‘Kim Seokjin?’‘

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them properly. You grew flustered, trying to think of an excuse that could make up explaining to the man before you exactly how you, a complete stranger, knew his name, before realizing just how still your surroundings were.

[You are about to enter Seokjin’s route for YBW. Click YES or NO before starting for confirmation. After clicking YES, there is no restarting.]

You could barely stop your hands from trembling as you reached up and pressed the sparkling YES.

The word did a little spin, twinkling in an eye-catching way before disappearing.

A set of instructions popped up.

[INSTRUCTIONS: You are now in a world where BTS is not BTS. To win hearts and boost your romance gauge for Seokjin’s GOOD ENDING, be careful about the choices you make throughout the game. Choices will pop up frequently during your interaction with Seokjin. There will be no going back once you have started playing, and once you have pressed a choice, you can not choose another. Be warned: BAD CHOICES END WITH A BAD ENDING, in which DEATH occurs. Press CONTINUE.]

You stiffened when you read the second to last line. You knew that this world wasn’t your world, and you had somehow managed to maintain a mild state of calmness, but the warning jostled your sense of fear and caused panic to rise up in your throat. You wanted it to be a lie, but when you squeezed your eyes shut and pinched yourself hard enough to leave a bruise, hoping to wake up in your bed, your hopes were dashed as you opened your eyes up to the same opaque white screen.

You suddenly didn’t want to play the game anymore.

You thought of making a run for it, but the game, as if sensing your thoughts, popped up with another screen.

[Please press CONTINUE. Failure to do so will be quitting the game, which will immediately result in the BAD ENDING.]

#yandere bts #yandere #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #yandere jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #yandere taehyung x reader #yandere yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #yandere seokjin x reader #bts yandere #kpop yandere #yandere au #sneak peeks #previews #fic schedule

[syilcawrites]

for your zelink prompt,,,how do you feel about a modern AU where the two bike to the beach and have a picnic?

a/n: I added ‘high school’ to the prompt too hope you don’t mind asghjjhas (’: Also this turned out a lot longer than I planned hope that’s okay ;-; I want to practice writing in Link’s voice more so this is in his pov!! Anyway! I hope you enjoy this, and thanks a lot for the prompt <3

ao3

hot buttered apples with chamomile tea

There are two types of monsters: ones that sleep under your bed and ones that sleep behind your eyes. For Aryll, it's the former.

And Link saw a lot in the latter.

He rubbed his eyes to try to erase the bags that rest stubbornly underneath them, but he wondered if he was just making it worse. Probably. But why did it matter anyway? He usually got three hours of sleep tops, so he always liked to think that darkness had become a permanent edition to his features. He tapped his toes against the pavement, waiting, peering around the corner of the school's brick fence, trying to catch a glimpse of the black car that Zelda usually pulled up in. With five minutes left until school started, he was beginning to worry—she was never late. And for the first time in his entire high school career, he was early.

It was a last minute trip they had planned, when they had snuck onto the school roof after class yesterday.

"I want to see the ocean," she had told him, under the summer's unrelenting heat. They were both sticky with sweat, even though they were sitting under a shady area, and the next thing she said made no sense to him. "I've never been to the beach before." Living here and never once going to Hateno Beach? He thought she was kidding at first. But she stared at him dead in the eye with her lips pressed into a thin line, as serious as ever. When he jokingly proposed that they ditch school the next day to go to the beach, she didn't hesitate to say yes.

It had taken him practically the whole day yesterday to convince her to sneak up onto the rooftop, and yet she was completely fine with ditching an entire day of school to go to the beach.

She was weird and unpredictable and he loved it.

He decided to check his backpack again for the twelfth time in the past hour, just to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. His memory was pretty terrible to begin with. He always found something new that he had forgotten whenever he went to check his backpack. The first time he checked, he realized he didn't bring any cups. Just that one thermal bottle whose lid doubled as a cup. The second time he checked, he realized he had forgotten napkins. If worst came to worst, he guessed he could just offer up his jacket or something, if she really needed to clean her hands or wipe her mouth—would that be any better though? When was the last time he washed his jacket?

"Link?"

Before he could try to sniff his sleeve, Zelda's voice pierced his thoughts.

He zipped up the backpack once more and peeked around the corner again—and finally, he saw her familiar twin braided blonde hair bobbing up and down as she ran toward him.

With… a frenzied kind of pace.

"Link!" she shouted again, breathless, as she waved her arms up and down in panic. Behind her he could hear another person shouting—but it was hard to hear their voice, since it was drowned out by the sound of Zelda urgently telling him to go, go, go.

Fumbling, Link lifted the bike away from the brick fence and rolled it out, hopping onto the front seat.

"I thought you said you had two bikes!" Zelda exclaimed, quickly tossing herself over the second seat without missing a beat.

"I mean, this is kinda like two bikes isn't it?" She only learned how to ride a bike three days ago and he wasn't comfortable with leading her down a rather windy road to get to the beach on her own. The last time he taught someone how to ride a bike was Mipha, years ago, and she almost face planted into a cliff because he let go of her bike and had forgotten to tell her how to brake.

Besides, he had to bribe Aryll fifty rupees to take the tandem bike out today. If he wanted to borrow her regular bike, she would've asked for a hundred. That was equivalent to a week's worth of mowing Tokk's front lawn.

Link was probably getting scammed by Tokk, but he was only 40% sure about that.

"Won't we look ridiculous riding this around?" Zelda scoffed as they began pulling out onto the road. "I thought we were supposed to be discreet? A tandem bike—Oh Hylia!" She kicked his shin with her foot, urging him to hurry. "Impa's coming!"

"Who?" Impa? He didn't think Zelda had mentioned her before.

"Miss Zelda!"

Link glanced at the direction that Zelda had come from, and he saw an angry looking young woman in a black suit racing toward them at an alarming speed. A chill ran down his spine as they locked eyes.

"You!" Impa shouted, pointing a furious finger at him. "Who are you!"

Without a second left to waste, Link clicked into gear and pedaled away fast before that angry finger could intentionally poke out his eyeballs. They shot down the road, with Zelda's exhilarated laughter mixing in with the sound of the rushing wind whistling by them.

For some reason, it was a strange and distinct sound, like it was reverberating all around him; he felt trapped in it.

Until her laughter abruptly stopped.

"Look out—!"

He looked up; but by then, it was too late. An apple that hung low from the tree smacked him square on the forehead with a resounding thud.

——————————————————————

"You know," Zelda said, accepting his hand as he helped her down the rocky cliff that led to the shoreline, "the beach looks different from above."

Link hadn't been to Zelda's home before, but he knew what it looked like from below. It was an odd-looking building that used to be an abandoned lighthouse, but then someone moved into it a couple of years ago, and that someone had hammered on weird platforms and objects to it, so now it looked like Hateno's novelty sculpture.

"Your room's at the top of that lighthouse building right?" Link asked, grunting as he jumped down onto the sand with a hefty thud. He turned around and held out both of his hands to her.

"Mhm. Purah let me have the upper loft when I moved in with her. The view's amazing at night, you can see all the stars." Zelda crouched down and gratefully accepted his hands. Her hands were rough. She jumped down.

Link couldn't see the stars from his bed, because a gigantic tree was right in front of his window.

Her prickling stare withdrew him from his thoughts—she studied his face as if she was observing every detail on it. He could count the sun freckles that had begun appearing around her cheeks; heat climbed to his cheeks as he leaned back a little, finally aware of how close they were.

"I hope that apple won't leave a bruise on your forehead," she muttered, her eyebrows furrowing together, with that little crease appearing between her brows. Always one crease, never two. "You took quite a hit back there."

"I—" he paused, his mouth still slightly ajar.

What was he gonna say? That he was too focused on the sound of her laughter to the point where he wasn't paying attention to the road?

She tilted her head quizzically, waiting for him to speak.

Link let go of her hands to adjust the straps of his stiff backpack. "I know a spot near the rocks," he muttered, turning to a cluster of boulders near the water. It was flat enough that they could place the blanket down and set the lunchboxes and thermal bottle without having to worry about them falling over.

They walked side by side.

"The patterns on the rocks are so symmetrical," she murmured, tapping her chin with her finger. "Like the cliff we just climbed down from—you could tell during high tide the water reaches it, just barely though. I've always found it fascinating that exposure to water erosion could create such beautiful patterns. Don't you agree?"

Link nodded, and a smile quirked up on her lips. The hop in her step was a little higher than usual as she sped up to reach the cluster of rocks faster. He liked listening to her observations of little details, even though he didn't offer much opinion of his own. It was nice to hear and see Hyrule through a different kind of lens.

She was already climbing up the rock by the time Link reached it, and she stood there proud and tall with her hands on her hips, facing the vast ocean.

"We should eat before the food gets cold," Link called up to her, unzipping his backpack to hand her the picnic blanket. It used to belong to his mom. At one point he stole the key to his dad's chest and opened it up to find a bunch of things that used to be hers, probably, because there was a picture of her in there, squished in with a bunch of other stuff. He stole that picture too. And to this day, his dad still hadn't noticed anything was missing.

Link wondered if his dad knew, and just let him... have it.

"Of course," she said, her eyes glinting hungrily. She grabbed the blanket from him, and with it, his thoughts.

She spread it out as he climbed up to her.

Her reactions were always funny whenever Link brought food for her. For some reason, she always tried to mask her excitement—but she was terrible at hiding the anticipation that gleamed in her green eyes, and even more terrible at trying to keep a smile from erupting on her face while he pulled out the two lunchboxes.

"Chamomile tea," Link stated, as he pulled out the thermal bottle next. He paused to watch her, and her mouth formed an 'o' as she greedily grabbed it from him, opening the cap up. He popped open the lid of one of the lunchboxes and slid it toward her.

There were sliced hydromelons, egg pudding, honey crepes and fruits, and her favorite—

"Hot buttered apples!" Zelda exclaimed, reaching for one.

In the other box he had a handful of savory foods—maybe he should've opened that one up first.

"I'm glad you took my suggestion." Her fingers paused just before she picked the slice up. "But first, the tea," she said quickly, as if she was reminding herself. She poured it into the lid of the thermal bottle, handing it to Link.

"I want to see your expression when you try it," Zelda insisted, beaming. She was smiling a lot today—more than she has in the past two years that he'd known her. "You take a bite out of the apple first, and then drink the tea, and then it tastes amazing."

"Just like that?" he asked, eyeing the light crisp color of the chamomile tea she handed to him. It reminded him of apple cider.

"Trust me, Link. You'll want to keep eating it," she promised, tugging down at her two braids. She always did that when she was waiting for something—every time she was standing in line at the vending machines to get the both of them candy pop sodas at school, she did that same little tug. "I'm picky with my food, so you know I wouldn't simply be saying this without meaning it."

Link picked up the slice—the hot buttered apples had turned into warm buttered apples by now, but he figured it wouldn't change the taste all that much. As soon as he took a bite out of it and took a sip from the tea, her eyes sparkled.

The combination of the two warmed his stomach—the pinch of cinnamon she had recommended he put on it really kicked it for him, and he had to refrain from shoving at least ten more into his mouth. Considering how much she was staring at the hot buttered apples, he wanted to save the majority of it for her.

"Good? Right? They both have that toasty taste but it's a different kind of toasty. The chamomile tea, when brewed correctly of course, has that touch of floral kick to it too! And the hot buttered apples with that sprinkle of cinnamon just melts in your mouth and it's the most wonderful thing ever, isn't it?" She quickly thanked him as she accepted the tea when he handed it to her, and she picked up a slice to take an eager bite of her own.

"It's really good." He wasn't the best at expressing himself through words, but despite their simplicity, it seemed to have gotten through to her, as that gleeful glint in her eyes only gleamed brighter. "Did your parents—" He paused mid-chew, realizing just a little too late that his question was going to dampen her brightness.

And it did, just a little.

Idiot.

Whenever he asked about her immediate family, she would tense up—just like now. She cast her eyes down at the lunchbox, eyeing all of the food that he had prepared, her lips pursed. She would always be on the brink of telling him, but then she would turn away in the end.

Maybe… she needed a little push, to talk about it.

"My mom hated apples." The words felt weird in his mouth—he's never spoken about his mom to anyone, and he only brought her up once to his dad. Link raised his eyes to meet hers. Zelda had stopped chewing too, and looked at him with wide, curious eyes.

"That's what my dad told me at least, when I asked him what she hated the most." No one in his family ate apples that much, and it all made sense when he found out about that little fact a couple of years ago. It was hard for his dad to talk about her—time didn't heal the pain behind his voice when he told Link those three simple words: She hated apples.

And behind those three simple words were years upon years of grieving, and he never asked his dad about her again.

He watched as Zelda picked up another slice, her mouth parting slightly. "My mother loved making all sorts of meals with apples."

Loved, Link thought.

Past tense.

They sat in silence for a bit, just munching on those hot buttered apples, while passing the tea back and forth between each other.

"My mother made a snack for me that always involved apples in some way—whenever I was sad, angry, or when she was proud of me." He expected her to look lost in thought as she spoke, but she wasn't. She was as present as she could've been, and he was... it made him feel a little better. Less alone. "Hot buttered apples with chamomile tea was my favorite. She made it for me quite often," she said, chuckling. "What was your mother like?"

She gave him the last slice.

He hesitated; both in accepting the last piece and at her question. The only thing he had was a worn out picture of her, weathered down by age. And that blanket. "I don't know, I don't remember anything," he admitted, taking the slice from her.

Her gaze softened.

Link once punched another classmate in grade school because they asked him, how could he be sad? If he had no memories of his own mom? What was there to be sad about, since he couldn't remember anything? And for the longest time, he didn't let himself be sad over her. How could you be sad about someone you had no memories of?

But one day, Aryll barged into his room—her face red, with snot running down her nose, crying, because she had an argument with their dad. "What if I forget about her, Link?" Aryll had said to him in between her choked up sobs. "I feel like if dad never talks about her, she'll disappear forever."

He knew then that there was pain with memory, and pain without memory. One wasn't more valid than the other.

Because either way, no one won anything in the end.

"I wish I could've met your mother," she said. "I'm certain I could've changed her mind about apples."

There wasn't a lick of a tease on her face. She was serious.

For the first time in a while, Link laughed.

#zelink #botw #breath of the wild #sorry i took a hot second but I just kept adding stuff to it and then it became kinda long LOL #my fanfics #thank u sm for the prompt!!! #the-astrumnauta #syilca answers #one more prompt to go baby!