#the tensing in the third one........................

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐄 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ─ JH⁸⁶

TRACK 18 ─── IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | almost a year ago, your whole was shattered by the one person you'd never thought would hurt you. and now you were back in the city where it all started with one simple mission ─ get him back.

─ word count | 2.5k

─ warnings | oof where do i begin, angst? obviously second-chance romance, slightly suggestive, mention of drinking/getting tipsy, jack being a cocky ass, slightly fluffy? idk just a lot of word vomit but yeah!

─ taglist |

─ ev's notes | yaya! first ttpd celly fic is out!! hoorayyeeee!!! also i've been listening to this album like on fucking repeat since friday and holy shit, this is probably my third fav now (sorry speak now). i also literally can't choose a fav but according to my music app, i've listened to so high school 72 times since it came out!!!!!!!!

YOU SWORE YOU'D NEVER COME back to New Jersey ─ but, here you were.

How you ended up here, tipsy and alone in this bar? You're not exactly sure. What you do know is that the night started in your childhood home with your parent's very expensive bottle of wine. And now you were here, in downtown Jersey in one of your old high school dresses that fits a little tighter than it did almost 5 years ago.

Your lips were stained red as you ordered another glass of Blueberry Gin & Tonic. You didn't know when you had started drinking Gin & Tonic but a lot had changed in the last couple of months. You didn't even know who you really were anymore, it was blurry.

And you could blame all of that on your high-school sweetheart ─ the person you'd thought you'd spend the rest of your life with. Key word: thought, as in past-tense.

As you swirled the ice in your glass, memories flooded back like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your mind. The late-night drives down highway roads, the whispered promises of forever, and the way your heart used to skip a beat at the sight of his smile. But somewhere along the way, those promises faded into echoes, and the smiles became almost bitter memories.

It all came crashing down a few months ago. The pain was like a dagger through your heart, leaving you gasping for air in a world suddenly devoid of color. You lost the one person in your life who made you, you. You had to relearn who you really were without him.

And in the aftermath, you tried to pick up the pieces of your shattered and almost confusing life, but the wounds were too deep, the scars too raw. So you ran, running from the memories that now haunted you, seeking solace in the anonymity of far-away cities and unfamiliar faces.

But no matter how far you ran, you couldn't outrun the ghosts of your past. They followed you like shadows, lurking in the corners of your mind, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike.

And tonight was no different.

When your eyes locked with his familiar blue ones, a particular ghost of your past appeared. And you didn't miss the way you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw his now grown-out hair (you'd never let him grow it out when you were together) and his soft stubble that you always made him shave. But it suited him, he looked more mature.

But you weren't surprised, it almost seemed like fate. Almost. If it weren't for the fact that you knew, in the back of your mind, he always liked spending his Saturdays playing pool with his friends, in this exact bar. You pretended like you hadn't planned this entire thing.

And so you feigned ignorance, pretending as if you hadn't noticed him at all. You kept gazing at him, taking him in. You felt the anger rise in your body as your nose flared, beginning to think sober up again. You took another swig of your drink and turned away from him, you could practically hear the wheels turning inside his head as he analyzed you right back.

A few moments pass and as you predicted, you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Y/N?"

You met his gaze and it felt so much different from the last time he'd looked at you. He looked... surprised? Is that even the right word? You felt his eyes scan you up and down, the tight dress fitting you perfectly in his mind.

You, too, had changed since the last time he'd saw you. Your hair was slightly shorter and more put together, you looked healthier and more mature. Less like a teenager and more like an adult now, but that's just how aging works, right? Not only did your looks change, but the way you carried yourself.

God, you were sexy. Jack always knew you were beautiful, it was undeniable. But after not seeing you for months now, you looked like a dream ─ a hauntingly beautiful vision that stirred something deep within him. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by the way you carried yourself, with a newfound confidence and poise that spoke of strength.

He was at a loss of words. But it was Jack, of course he didn't let it show. He plastered on his award-winning smirk and let his gaze fall back on to your face. "I didn't know you were back in Jersey, you shoulda texted."

Your face contorted into surprise. Was he really trying to pretend like nothing happened? Oh, two can play that game. "I was just visiting family." Your red lips turned into a tipsy smile. "But you're right, I should've texted. How have you been?"

"Awesome. Is this seat taken?" Jack didn't wait for an answer, he just pulled out a chair and sat down. He glanced down at your drink, the smirk still very much evident in face.

God, how much you wanted to just smash his face in. But you swallowed the anger with your drink, letting him study you for a few more moments.

"Since when do you drink?" His tone was amused as he watched you swallow the liquid so effortlessly, like it was water.

Since you left, you wanted to shout. "Not until recently."

You watched as he leaned back in his chair, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "And what brought about this newfound appreciation for alcohol?" He asked, his tone still but the underlying curiosity evident in his eyes.

"Life." you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper. "Life has a funny way of changing things."

He nodded, as if he understood, but you could see the doubt flickering behind his eyes. He didn't know the half of it, didn't know the pain and the heartache you had endured in his absence. And part of you wanted to keep it that way, wanted to shield him from the truth of how much he had hurt you.

But another part of you, a smaller part buried deep within all the hurt and bitterness, wanted him to know. Wanted him to see the scars he had left on your soul, to feel the weight of the words left unsaid between you. But not to burden him, to somehow reverse all the pain he'd caused you.

"So, what have you been up to?" you asked, deflecting the conversation away from yourself. "Anything exciting?" By anything, you really meant anyone.

You saw the way Jack's smirk faltered as he shook his head. "Nope, nothin' new." But he knew that you knew the real answer.

Two months, it took him two months to move on from a 4 year relationship. "Really?" you asked, your voice laced with skepticism. "No new hobbies, no new friends, no new... interests?"

Jack chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer to you, his gaze locking with yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, I might have picked up a few new hobbies," he admitted, his voice low. "But nothing as exciting as running into you here, that's for sure."

Despite yourself, you felt a small, genuine smile tug at the corners of your lips at his charming response. He had always had a way with words, a charisma that could disarm even the most guarded of hearts.

"There she is," his voice was soft as he watched the curves of your lips turn upward. "I missed that."

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, a mixture of nostalgia and longing swirling within you like a whirlpool. Despite everything that had happened between you, there was still a part of you that missed the comfort of his presence, the familiarity of his smile.

"Well, don't let it get to your head," you teased, although the playful tone of your voice couldn't mask the vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. "I wouldn't want you thinking you can charm your way out of everything."

"I'm not trying to, trust me. I can't help it." Jack smirked as he shrugged. "And for the record, I did miss it. I don't remember the last time I've seen your genuine smile."

Your smile faltered as your stomach squeezed in anxiety. The last couple of months of your relationship was spent only arguing, and the smiles had become a rarity, buried beneath layers of resentment and hurt. You swallowed hard, the memories of those final days weighing heavy on your heart like a rock.

"Yeah, well, it's been a while," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you fought to push aside the memories threatening to overwhelm you. "A lot has changed since then."

"I can tell," his eyes scanned your body and you felt your heart jump. He wet his lips as his blue eyes met yours again, a grin playing on his lips. "I remember this dress. You wore it at my draft party, I remember."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, memories of that night flooding back with a rush of emotions. You remembered the excitement in the air, the pride shining in his family's eyes as he celebrated the culmination of years of hard work and dedication.

"Yeah, I remember," you said softly, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "It feels like so long ago."

Jack nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips as he reached across the table to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I never forgot that night," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Or how beautiful you looked in this dress."

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt like the air was knocked out of you at his words. Goddamn him, his smooth-talk, and that damned cologne that made you feel high off of him. "Shut up," was all you could muster as Jack chuckled.

"Let's go take a walk."

And like always, Jack didn't wait for an answer. He just grabbed your hand and began walking toward the exit. Your mind raced as Jack's touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. And despite your inner turmoil and the warning bells ringing in your head, there was a part of you that couldn't resist the pull of his charm, the familiarity of his touch.

You hated how he still had this effect on you and how confident he was, he always made decisions for you. You're not sure if it's really a bad thing, because how can something so bad feel so insanely good?

"Okay," you said softly more to yourself than him, your voice barely above a whisper. You allowed him to lead you away from the dimly lit bar and out into the cool night air.

As you walked side by side, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over you. It was like stepping back in time, back to a simpler era when the world was young and full of promise.

Jack pulled you into his chest as you walked, his arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders as you leaned into him, seeking solace in his familiar warmth.

Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still longed for the comfort of his embrace, for the reassurance of his presence by your side.

"The dress still fits you so well," Jack finally spoke up. You could feel practically hear the grin on his face as you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging on your lips.

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing I haven't outgrown it," you replied, your voice light and teasing as you leaned into his embrace subconsciously.

Jack chuckled, his arm tightening around you. "You'd look in a garbage bag, princess. You can never outgrow anything."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Jack." You quipped.

"It's gotten me this fair, huh?" Jack's tone was amused as you felt yourself roll your eyes at his cockiness. He let out a laugh as he squeezed your arms, the way he knew you liked.

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face but instead, you just shook your head at his teasing. He still knew you so well, even after so long. As much as you wanted to resist his charm, there was a small part of you that couldn't help but be swept away by it. Jack had always had a way of getting under your skin, of finding the cracks in your armor and worming his way into your heart.

"You're insufferable," you said, though the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed the fondness you couldn't quite suppress.

Jack chuckled, his laughter warm and infectious as he leaned in closer to press a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"But you love me anyway," he said, his voice soft as he met your gaze with a knowing smile.

You couldn't deny the truth of his words, no matter how much you wanted to. Despite everything, despite the pain and the heartache, a part of you still loved him ─ had always loved him. Would you always love him?

You gazed back at him, his grin even bigger as his hand squeezed your arms again. The more you stared, the more you slipped back right where he wanted. Fuck, you were back.

Your hands came up to touch his soft stubble, one of the many new things about him. Something you never thought you'd like, you swore his clean-face was your favorite but he proved you wrong.

"You like it?" Jack asked, his voice low and husky as he watched you trace your fingers along his stubbled jawline. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the power he still held over you.

"Yeah," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his gaze, your fingers lingering against his stubble. "It suits you. You look... different, but in a good way."

A smile tugged at the corners of Jack's lips, his eyes sparkling with gratitude as he reached up to gently cup your cheek in his hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Thank you," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. "I'm glad you think so."

You smiled genuinely, the anger slowly dissipating as you looked into the eyes of the man you'd once loved, wholeheartedly. His face may have changed but his gaze was still the same, the same blue eyes you'd been drawn to from the beginning.

"Let's head back to the car, yeah?" His voice came out hoarse and low, you could hear practically hear the need in his voice. And again, you let him lead you back to his car and eventually, to his home.

Your lips curved into a smirk, you'd had gotten exactly what you'd sought out to do. You'd gotten him back, but who ever doubted you?

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[mydearestdaryl]

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐚 (18+) ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Daryl needed some love and you gladly gave it to him. Warnings: TWD violence, gore, blood, character deaths, explicit language, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v, simple aftercare). Not proofread. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! reader smut + fluff. Setting: Quarry. A/N: I read a post some time ago that said that Daryl in season 1 just needed some kisses to calm down and I couldn't agree more so I wrote this. It's also my first time trying to write smut, so I am so sorry if this sucks, and I was so hesitant to post it so please be nice lol. 😞

“Ha-ha, funny girl,” T-Dog deadpanned, rolling his eyes and suppressing a genuine laugh. It was the third bad joke you told in a row, and he was starting to find them funny.

“I really am,” you replied breathlessly, finally able to catch your breath after cackling at your joke.

“Okay, Eddie Murphy,” T-Dog, added jokingly, making you giggle as he placed a bunch of firewood you'd been helping him split for the past 40 minutes. “Let's head back.”

“I just thought of another one!” You exclaimed as you walked next to him. His groan of annoyance made you laugh before you even told the joke. “What do you call a fish with no eyes?”

“I. Don't. Know.”

“A fsh,” you replied after a dramatic pause, hardly able to contain your laugh as he gave you a side-eye, pressing his lips together to hold a smile back. “Please, I-” you started, but interrupted yourself as a commotion reached your ears from the camp. You recognized Daryl's voice.

Sharing a confused look with T, you both picked up the pace, coming into view with what seemed like a heated discussion between Daryl, Shane, and Rick, the man who joined the camp yesterday. You felt a little annoyed that they ignored T-Dog's request to let him tell Daryl, but oh well.

“Rick Grimes,” he introduced himself to Daryl.

“Rick Grimes,” Daryl mocked him, “y' got somethin' you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked into a piece of metal,” Rick stated, apparently with confidence. “He's still there.”

You stayed in place, watching as T-Dog slowly took a few steps closer to the scene.

Daryl hummed as he turned around, pacing shortly before he spoke, “Le' me process this,” said he while turning to face Rick again, clearly growing irritated. “Ya' sayin' you handcuffed ma brother to a roof, and you left 'im there!” His veins popped as his voice got raspier as he yelled at the other man.

Rick gulped before admitting. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, Daryl tossed the squirrels he was carrying toward Rick, the latter swiftly dodging them before Shane jumped into action, tackling Daryl to the ground. Next, he pulled a knife from its holster, swinging it at the former cops, but being stopped in a matter of seconds.

In the blink of an eye, Shane put Daryl in a chokehold, while Rick snatched the weapon out of his hand. “Ya best let me go!” warned Daryl, struggling in Shane's grip as the cop brought him to the ground. You walked closer toward Carol as your eyes remained on the scene, but decided to walk to the other side as you noticed Ed was next to her.

“I think it's better if we don't,” Shane replied, almost mockingly.

“Chockehold's illegal,” Daryl added, face red from the struggle.

“'Kay, file a complaint,” If this situation was not so tense, you would've laughed. You did a little on the inside. Rick kneeled in front of the restrained man as Shane spoke again. “C'mon, man, can keep this up all day.”

“I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. You think we can manage that?” Rick spoke, trying to find Daryl's eyes. “You think we can manage that?” the cop repeated when no answer was obtained.

Panting and growling, Daryl grunted in agreement, finally getting Shane to release him; more aggressively than he should, if they asked you. Sitting up quickly, Daryl pointed at Shane warningly. Rick continued: “What I did was not on a whim,” he explained. “Your brother does not work and play well with others.”

“It's not Rick's fault,” T-Dog spoke up, his leg bouncing anxiously as he confessed. “I had the key. I dropped it.”

“Couldn't pick it up?” Daryl retorted. His voice was calmer, but you recognized in his stormy eyes a hint of grief. Nobody else cared about his brother when his brother was everything he had. You couldn't imagine how terrible this situation was for him.

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

Dropping his head, Daryl slowly got up, gathering his composure again. Anger returned to his expression as he walked past T-dog, “'f it's s'posed ta make me feel better, it don't,” glaring daggers at the 'culprit.'

“Maybe this will,” T went on to say, “I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him... with the padlock”

“It's gotta count for something,” Rick piped in.

Drying a tear as soon as it came, Daryl took a deep breath. “Hell with all y'all!” he screamed. “Jus' tell me where he is, so's I can go get 'im.”

“He'll show you,” Lori stated, staring into her husband's eyes. “Ain't that right?” Rick's eyes left his wife's after a few seconds, finding T-Dog's shortly before nodding.

“I'm going back,” he declared, almost solemnly, hands on his hips as his eyes met Daryl's again. The younger Dixon clenched his jaw before walking past everyone to get his crossbow and stomping to his tent.

You didn't notice you went behind him until Dale stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “What are you doing, honey?” the older man questioned. He'd always been kind and sweet to you, so you gently released yourself from his grip.

“He's upset,” you explained, and he seemed to understand as he nodded reluctantly, but understandingly. On your way, you grabbed your half-full water bottle, and slowly approached the edge of the camp, where the tent of the Dixon's was.

You found Daryl sitting on the chair outside his tent, shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched with anger as if grasping the last shreds of control. His head bowed low and his eyes were shut tight. You caught the way his body shook softly with quiet sobs. You stilled, not daring to interrupt this stolen vulnerable moment.

After another minute, he abruptly stood up, drying his tears before cursing loudly while kicking the chair he was sitting in. You were suddenly hesitant to approach him and decided to turn around and leave, but before you took one step, his voice reached your ears.

“Whaddaya doin' here?”

You took a deep breath before turning back around and walking up to him, your water bottle hanging from your hand. “I- uhm, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Merle, and-”

“Ya don' even like 'im,” he snapped defensively.

“No, I don't,” you confirmed, “but I like you, and he's your brother. Even if my brother would annoy the shit out of me before, I loved him, and... I'm sorry you're going through this, Daryl,” you took a few steps closer, eyes on the ground as you spoke before meeting his.

His gaze remained on yours, before studying your face, finding nothing but the truth.

He frowned deeper, angrily huffing out a breath before turning away from you to rant. “He's jus' so fuckin' stupid. Nobody can fuckin' stand him an' he can't keep 'is fuckin' mouth shut!” he yelled, pacing from left to right, hands dancing through the air practically independently, punctuating his words.

“Why he gotta be such a fuckin' pain in the ass? Not even when we gotta surv-” mid-sentence, your hands found his cheeks, and with utter sweetness your lips impulsively found his, silencing his words.

He stilled, hands slowly dropping to his sides, body completely tense.

You quickly pulled away, opening your eyes to find his eyes slightly wide and totally confused. Your hands left his face and you took a step back. Your eyes awkwardly looking anywhere but at him. “Fuck, Daryl, I'm so sorry,” you started, a knot of anxiety growing in your chest. “I don't know why I did that... well, I know why, 'cause I like you, but I shouldn't have, I'm- I'm so sorry, really.”

Your rambling was interrupted by his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to connect his lips with yours. This time he was more relaxed, and the kiss was slower. His hands slid down to gently grab your hips, pressing his body to yours.

Your arms snaked around his neck, dropping your water bottle, and allowing your lips to part when his tongue requested entrance. Exploring the taste of each other, time stilled for a moment, but you loved it. The kiss grew almost desperate and the grip on your hips got stronger.

Unhappy to pull away, but needing to do so to breathe, you found yourself gasping as his lips left yours. You smiled brightly, cheeks rosy, and he smirked while dipping his head. “Also, I brought you water,” you added, grabbing the bottle from the ground, and dusting off the little dirt that stuck to its side before handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from your hands before opening it, downing the liquid, and emptying the bottle.

“You're gonna find him,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiled and nodded once again, muttering a thank you. You sounded pretty confident as if you knew, which gave him the confidence when he left on the search for his brother later that day.

Everybody screamed as they tried to avoid or fight the walkers emerging from the thick forest. The evening that started so peacefully suddenly turned into the perfect scene of a terrifying horror movie.

Things moved fast and slow at the same time. It was a blur. Tunnel vision, solely focused on surviving and protecting your group, moving on automatic pilot as you dug your machete countless times into the head of those flesh-hungry monsters.

You didn't even notice when it ended, barely feeling a pair of strong hands gripping your shoulders. His voice sounded distant asking if you were okay over and over. But you couldn't answer, you weren't sure if you were okay, the adrenaline didn't let you feel your body.

His loud voice calling your name finally snapped you out of your trance. “What?” You asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Were ya bitten? Are ya alright?” Daryl questioned, nealy manhandling you as he searched and scanned for bites or scratches on your neck, lifting the sleeves of your flannel to make sure the skin of your arms was intanct.

“I didn't get bit or anything,” you shook your head, still a bit gone.

Cupping your face to study your eyes, he quickly pulled you into his arms, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt finally safe now. You wrapped your arms around his torso, closing your eyes and hiding your face in his neck.

After everyone agreed to get some rest and leave the cleaning for the morning, Daryl offered to stay in your tent with you that night.

He helped you into your pajamas, and you cuddled for a bit as he told you what happened in Atlanta. Then you simply lay in silence. You played with his fingers and he watched you adoringly, rubbing soothing circles on your back with his free hand.

You looked up to find his eyes on yours. Gently he cupped your chin, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hand went up to cup half of his face, returning the kiss with equal passion. It was almost needy but slow. It was like he needed the confirmation that you were both here and okay.

Tongues met in a slow dance, and his hands reached down to cup your ass, easily moving you to lay on top of him. You couldn't help but moan as your body completely pressed against his, but it also made you want to feel more.

His hands slid under your shirt, and you broke the kiss in need of oxygen, immediately latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and kissing. He hummed in satisfaction, which was all the confirmation you needed to keep going, but he stopped after a few moments, pulling his hands out of your shirt, and cupping your face again for you to look at him.

“You sure 'bout this?” he asked, his face stern as he waited for your answer.

You nodded hastily, licking your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”

“'M sure,” he said without hesitation, pulling you onto his lap so you could straddle him. “Need ta feel ya,” he whispered in a husky voice, sending a shiver down your spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

His hands caressed the dip of your waist up and down under your shirt as you made out. You buckled your hips up unintentionally but did it again on purpose when you heard him moan into your mouth.

You were straight-up grinding into his hips before he pulled away from your mouth, “not yet, doll,” he whispered as he took your shirt off. His hands went to your breasts like magnets, kneading and massaging the curves shamelessly as he peppered your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down to pop a tit inside his mouth.

Your clothed cunt clenched on air, as you closed your eyes and moaned, enjoying the attention, and you could feel his excitement tenting in his pants as well.

He slowly shifted the position, you back now on the mattress. After he decided both tits had been given enough attention, albeit still reluctant, his mouth trailed lower and lower, hands smoothly pulling your shorts and panties at the same time as his tongue and mouth kissed and licked the skin of your stomach.

His eyes met yours as he kissed your thighs, silently asking for permission to go further. “Please,” you whispered, surprising yourself by how needy you sounded, but then again, you did feel like you needed him right now.

He wasted no time, and in less than a second his mouth was latched to your clit. Tongue swirling on it and sucking, making you gasp. He used his whole face, pushing himself deeper and moving side to side as his tongue flicked over your sensitive pearl quickly. Hungrily. You arched your back involuntarily, fingers finding his hair to pull while simultaneously pulling him closer.

With a hand on your hip, he sucked a few more times before he licked a strip down to your entrance where his tongue began to fuck you. His thumb replaced his mouth on your clit, rubbing at the same speed as his tongue went in and out of you. You moaned and whimpered and cursed, trying to keep quiet, being apparently unsuccessful.

“Quiet, sunshine,” he whispered, his free hand reaching up to make you suck on two fingers to silence you, and you happily obliged. Your legs wrapped around his head as he continued his ministrations, the familiar knot forming in your stomach.

“Fuck, Daryl, I- wait,” your back arched further, legs pulling him closer, contradicting your plead as he moved faster and faster, changing again to suck on your clit and fuck you with his fingers. He hummed and the vibrations brought you closer. “So close.”

Your pitch was higher and higher, the knot tighter and tighter. All it took was a final, flick and suck of his tongue, feeling him moan against your cunt before pushing you over the edge into a shattering climax. The free hand covered your mouth as the other slowed down, prolonging your pleasure until your body relaxed and you came down from your high.

“Fuck,” you looked at him with hazy eyes.

“Fuck,” he said as a confirmation, looking down to see a damp spot on his sweatpants.

“Come here,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. He gladly kissed you back as you slid your hands under his shirt, trying to pull it up, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“I-” he started, looking away from your eyes and knawing on his bottom lip. “I have- I....”

“You don't have to take it off, it's okay.”

“No, I wan' ta, jus'” he sighed, slowly taking the shirt off. He was thankful his back was away from you. At least you wouldn't have to see those yet. “My dad... was a drunk,” he reached to touch, kind of trying to hide, one of the scars on his shoulders, but you gently pushed his hand away, tracing the scar with your fingertips before looking up at him. You smiled and kissed him shortly, before kissing the scars on his shoulders.

“You're so strong,” you whispered.

His heart was beating fast but in a good way. His lips found yours again as he settled himself between your legs. Your now-familiar mouths found a rhythm as he started to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.

His erection hit your thighs making you pull away. You bit your bottom lip at the sight; he was thick, and the size was a bit on the bigger side. “All for you, baby,” he whispered, as he pumped himself a couple of times.

He rubbed the tip on your clit and entrance, spreading your and his juices all over your cunt again. “Ya ready?” he asked, slapping your cunt with his dick gently. You nodded. “Nah, need ya to speak up.”

“Please, Dar, I'm ready. I need you.”

He hummed in satisfaction, leaning to prop himself up with his forearms around your head, kissing your cheek, before slowly pushing into you. You moaned and he groaned. You were wet and ready enough, so the stretch felt like pure bliss for both of you.

He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, starting to move when you wrapped your legs around his hips. “Feel so good, doll.”

He started slow, savoring the moment but also nervous to hurt you. But soon, he picked up a rhythm and started moving faster. Your boobs bounced beneath him as he kissed and worshipped your neck and breasts. You felt so deliciously full as he thrust up into your tight, dripping heat, moaning and whimpering underneath him.

He was in heaven, eyes inevitably closed as he made love to you, but he wanted to keep them open to look at you. To him, you looked like a work of art just like that.

“Harder,” you breathed, and he obliged. Your skin met over and over and the sounds filled your tent. He grunted, reaching down to rub on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. “Oh, right there,” your voice was getting higher, letting him know you were close. “Don't stop, fuck, please, don't stop.”

“I won', baby. I gotcha,” he moaned. His thrusts became more and more urgent, each one hitting that sweet spot that made your body arch and your toes curl. If your hands weren't inside his gasp you'd be grasping the sheet beneath you. With one last flick of your clit, you shattered.

His mouth claimed yours to silence your cries of pleasure. Pure ecstasy filled your body, and prolonging your high, Daryl continued moving inside you, until he, too, reached his peak, quickly pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.

Spent and breathless, he collapsed next to you, who was in the same state as him. Your body tingled with the remnants of your passion, and you couldn't help the smile on your face as he kissed your face lazily.

Your eyelids were too heavy to notice when he pulled a little rag from somewhere and cleaned you up, then you felt him put your clothes on again, and his too. All too relaxed, you nestled into his embrace as he pulled you into his arms, both falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon headcanons #twd #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion imagine #twd fanfiction

[burntheedges]

Maintenance Request Chapter 20

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 3.3k

chapter summary: when Joel met Ellie 👀

a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕

chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, cursing, food and drink mention, pet names (honey, gorgeous, darlin’, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, handsome, cowboy), tricky conversations, typical Ellie bluntness

Chapter 20

Saturday, November 16 Twelfth week of the semester

In the week leading up to The Meeting, as Beth had been calling it for days (in a ridiculously deep, dramatic voice), you were nervous. You knew Joel was a good guy, and you wanted Ellie to like him. But you wanted her to like him on her own, not because you pushed her, or because she felt like she had to for you. 

Beth joined you and Joel for lunch by the psych building on Friday, even though your schedules only overlapped for 30 minutes. Afterwards she blew up the group chat you had with Ellie with her review (“He’s pathetically into your aunt, like it’s written all over his face. He seems like a good one”). You got the go ahead from your sister (who was working that weekend), which wasn’t actually difficult but you were glad to have it anyway. 

By Saturday, you were so nervous you googled breathing exercises on your phone while you waited for Beth and Ellie to come pick you up. Joel was going to meet you at the restaurant, after Tommy picked up Sarah to take her to soccer practice. You tried to tell yourself not to be nervous but it didn’t work. You felt like you actually had plenty to be nervous about, so you couldn’t trick yourself out of it.

You were in the process of breathing in 1-2-3-4 and holding it when your phone buzzed with a text from Ellie saying they were outside. You released your breath and took one more deep one before gathering yourself to leave.

Ellie was in the front seat of Beth’s car and stuck her tongue out at you, so you rolled your eyes and got in the back.

“Morning,” you said as you slid into the seat.

“Morning!” Beth sounded cheery, at least. “Here we go!” You sighed and tried to force the muscles in your back to relax. 

The brunch spot wasn’t far from your apartment, and during the ride there you poked at Ellie a little bit to try to gauge her mood. She seemed fine, if wary. That was probably the best you could have hoped for.

Joel was waiting for you outside of the restaurant when you arrived. He was looking pretty nervous himself. He had his hands in his pockets and he was trying to look casual, but his shoulders were tense.

“Hey, darlin,” he murmured as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“Morning, Joel.” You smiled and gestured behind you. “You know Beth. And this is Ellie.”

Joel and Ellie looked at each other for a moment in silence. She was squinting at him fiercely and you could tell he was trying not to smile in response.

“Nice to meet you, Ellie.” Joel nodded at her and you were suddenly glad he seemed to intuit that offering a handshake was not a good idea. “Heard a lot about you from your aunt.”

“Hi,” she replied, eyes narrowed. “What did you hear?”

Joel couldn’t hold back the smile anymore. “Heard you made a pretty cool presentation about the Emu War. How’d that go?”

Ellie looked torn between her warring desires to give Joel the third degree or to monologue about the Emu War at any given opportunity. “Um, fine.” She visibly bit back something else and you sighed.

“Let’s go get a table and then maybe she’ll tell you all about it.” You gestured to the restaurant and Beth moved behind you to open the door.

“Bet I can recite your presentation from memory.” Beth grinned as she teased Ellie, who rolled her eyes.

“Bet me what? I bet you can’t.” Ellie crossed her arms as she entered the restaurant and you laughed.

“Hmm,” you heard Beth muse as you stepped up to the host station to get a table. “I’ll buy you another weird little guy of your choice.”

“Deal!” Ellie sounded gleeful. “Get ready to perform.”

You mentally thanked Beth for putting her more at ease in this unfamiliar situation as you all followed the host to a table and sat down. Joel sat next to you on your left, with Beth across from him and Ellie across from you.

Your conversation got stuck on the Emu War for a bit (Beth managed to postpone her performance and bet fulfillment until you weren’t in public) and you tried not to watch Joel and Ellie too closely. You realized you were twisting your hands together under the table when Joel reached over and gently laid his hand on top of yours, pulling them apart to tangle your fingers together and rest them on your thigh. You took a deep breath.

Before you could say anything, though, Ellie beat you to it.

“So, Joel. What are your intentions with my aunt?” She stared him down, eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed on the table in front of her. It sounded like she had rehearsed the question before asking it. Intentions, you mouthed to yourself. You caught Beth’s eye and realized your best friend was grinning. 

Joel squeezed your hand before he nodded and replied. “I’m serious about her, about us. I care about her a lot. I want to be good for her.”

Ellie hummed, and was briefly interrupted by your drinks arriving. She took a long sip of her orange juice.

“I have some questions.” She said it like she was throwing out a gauntlet. You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands.

Joel nodded, face serious. “Ask ‘em.”

And then rapid fire, she did.

“You have a kid, right? What happened to her mom?”

Joel didn’t even flinch. “She left, isn’t coming back. We weren’t together long. You’ll have to talk to Sarah for more details.”

Ellie squinted like maybe she wanted to ask a follow up, but proceeded to her next question. You were starting to suspect she’d made a list and wondered if she had it written down in one of her pockets.

“Have you ever been arrested?” You closed your eyes and took a long sip of your coffee.

“Not really. Got thrown into the drunk tank once and I wasn’t even drunk. My little brother was actin’ up in public, got us both in trouble.” You tried not to laugh at this new information about Tommy, even as you realized Joel had apparently chosen the path of extreme honesty. You didn’t want to interrupt Ellie’s interrogation but you wondered if there was a limit.

“Hmm. Ok. Have you ever done drugs?”

Joel shook his head. “Just smoked weed a few times in high school. Used to smoke cigarettes before Sarah was born. Quit when she came along.”

Ellie leaned back in her chair, hands tense on the edge of the table. “What’s your worst habit?”

Joel smirked. “Probably leavin’ my towel on the floor in the bathroom. And sometimes I’m a grouch.” You met Beth’s eyes and looked away sharply before you both could laugh. Joel pressed your clasped hands into your thigh, like somehow he knew you were struggling to hold it together.

“What’s your daughter’s favorite tv show?”

Joel grimaced. “She likes that dating show, the new one where they don’t see each other at first. I hate it.��

“Do you watch it with her?” Ellie raised her eyebrows. 

“Sometimes. She likes watchin’ it with Tommy better, he likes it more’n me. She says I bring down the vibe.” He shrugged.

“When’s the last time you had an argument with her?” 

Joel tilted his head, considering. “Maybe last week? Wasn’t really an argument. She made me drink some orange juice in the morning, said I can’t live off coffee alone. Or I guess maybe when she wanted to go to a sleepover but I wouldn’t let her. I haven’t met those parents yet. But you’d have to ask her what she thinks about it.”

You watched Ellie’s face carefully and could see that she was relaxing a bit. You could guess at her reasoning for some of these questions, but not all of them.

“Why do you like my aunt?”

Joel raised his eyebrows in response and Ellie raised hers right back, expression unchanged. “Well. Alright then. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, and I love learning how she thinks and how she sees the world. She’s funny, been making me laugh since the first day we talked. She’s got good taste in music.” He glanced at you and smiled the little half smile that you loved. “And she cares about people. You can see it in the way she teaches, in how she talks to her students. She wants to help them. She gives so much of herself to everyone around her. I want to do the same for her.” You bit your lip as you felt a sudden tightness behind your eyes. He winked at you. “And she’s gorgeous.” You laughed.

Ellie squinted at him again, frowning. “I mean, she’s the fucking best, I know that. But you better know that, too.”

He grinned at her. “I do know that. She is the fucking best.” He raised his eyebrows at her again when he echoed her curse. “And for some reason she seems to like me. I’m not arguin’.”

You elbowed him. “Joel, you know–”

He shook his head at you. “I know, darlin’, I swear I’ve been listenin’. But right now I’m tellin’ Ellie all the reasons I like you.”

You sighed, but Beth cut in. “Wait, I have a question.”

Ellie looked at her skeptically. You both did. Joel didn’t, but he hadn’t known her as long.

“What? I do!”

Joel smiled. “Go ahead.”

Beth grinned, and you started to worry. “Alright, we need to know, and you have to be honest. How bad at dancing is she? We’ve seen her dance! We know the truth!”

Ellie burst out laughing and despite your own annoyance, you grinned at the sight. “Yeah!” She agreed through her laughter. “Tell us!”

Joel looked at you and smiled, gently. “Nah, she was great. Didn’t even step on my feet. She followed my lead just fine.” You felt your cheeks heat in response.

“Oh, come on! That's it?” Beth nudged Ellie with her elbow.

“That’s it.” He nodded and squeezed your hand again. “I’d dance with her anytime.”

“Gross.” Ellie rolled her eyes, and you knew she was feeling more comfortable.

Joel straightened in his seat as the food arrived and released your hand. “Can I ask you some questions now?” 

Ellie immediately looked suspicious but nodded, grudgingly.

“Alright. I heard you started the art club. What kind of art?” He took a bite of his food after he asked, looking at Ellie expectantly.

She glanced between him and you, clearly unsure. You nodded at her in encouragement. 

“You want to hear about that?” She sounded skeptical.

He nodded. “I do. Sounds like maybe it took a lot of work. Are you in charge of the club?”

Ellie continued to squint at him but answered. “No, I’m the vice president. I didn’t want to be the president but they made me pick something.” You snorted and she rolled her eyes at you. “My teacher says I’m not enough of a people person to be president anyway.” She looked like she wanted to swallow those words back after she said them, and glanced at Joel warily. You frowned.

“Sounds like your teacher might need to work on their own people skills, if you ask me.” Joel grumbled and furrowed his brow at his plate and you wondered if he was thinking about Sarah’s mean chemistry teacher. Ellie looked like she wanted to agree and was conflicted about it.

“That’s what I said,” Beth agreed, nodding. “You’d be a great president.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to be president, anyway.” She shrugged.

“Sarah’s thinking about trying out for varsity soccer next year, not just playing outside of school,” Joel offered. “I told her maybe she should start a club of her own, somethin’ to do with reading, since she’s been doing it so much.” He nudged you as he said it and you smiled. 

“There might be a book club already,” Ellie offered, voice neutral. “I dunno what they have.” Ellie and Sarah went to different schools, on opposite sides of the town. The schools were almost identical other than Ellie’s having slightly more artsy offerings for students.

Joel nodded. “Maybe. I’ll tell her to check.” He took a sip of his coffee and glanced from you to Ellie and back again. “Got any more questions for me?”

Ellie furrowed her brows and frowned at her waffle. You watched as she straightened her shoulders and started to wonder how many questions she might have left on her list. 

“How many people have you dated?” Your heart rate picked up at her words and you opened your mouth to interrupt, but Ellie shot you a stubborn look.

Joel answered just as honestly as he had been so far. “Well, I think your aunt and I will keep some of those details between ourselves. But I haven’t dated much, haven’t been in a relationship in a while, not since Sarah’s mom.”

Ellie eyed him and crossed her arms. “That’s it? How do I know you won’t hurt her?” Her face was fixed in a scowl and you didn’t know if you should say something or let Joel answer. He did before you could decide.

“Well, I won’t pretend I’ve always been perfect,” Joel’s voice was even and you could tell he was treading carefully. “But I would never hurt her on purpose. And I would try real hard not to do it accidentally either.” 

Ellie narrowed her eyes, clearly not satisfied with this response. “I was there, you know. After Matt. I know what he was like.” You felt a tightness in your chest as you remembered how much of a mess you were when Ellie came to live with you, freshly free of your relationship with Matt and still figuring yourself out. She’d only been 9 at the time and you’d hoped you’d shielded her from most of it. You blinked against the emotion building behind your eyes. Beth sent you a supportive look from across the table.

“I believe you.” Joel nodded. “But there are parts of our relationship that are just for us, and I’d rather your aunt decide what to tell you about them. I will tell you that I already promised her I’d never treat her that way. She’ll decide if I’m good enough for her. And you should know Sarah would take care of me long before you could get to me, if I ever did anything like that.”

Ellie continued to scowl for a minute, looking first at Joel and then down at her plate. “Ok. I–” she trailed off, looking unsure. “Ok. One more question.”

Joel nodded and you took a deep breath, bracing yourself. 

“Can you cook? Because she’s not great at it.”

Beth cracked up laughing and you gasped. “Ellie!”

She grinned at you, unrepentant. “It’s true, and you know it!”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” Joel turned to you with the half smile that sent shivers down your spine. “Dinner was pretty good the other night.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “She can make, like, 5 things. Do not let her make soup.”

He raised his eyebrows and darted his eyes from her to Beth and back to you. “What happened? Soup’s easy, darlin’, what could go wrong?”

Ellie cackled and launched into the story of the Soup Geyser with infuriating glee. As she did, you looked up and met Beth’s eyes. She grinned at you and nodded, and you felt your shoulders relax in relief. She was right, even though she hadn’t said the words out loud. 

Ellie was teasing you. In front of Joel. Something had gone right, after all.

…

After brunch, Joel offered you a ride, so that Beth and Ellie could go check out some more “weird little guys” before Beth dropped her off at Riley’s. You hugged them both (squeezing Ellie a bit longer than usual) and she promised to text you later. You took a deep breath, knowing that would probably be her final verdict. But she smiled and waved at you, so you hoped it would all be fine.

You found yourself standing next to Joel by the passenger door of his truck and realized you’d been silent for your whole walk from the restaurant. You looked over to find him looking at you, a smile playing around his lips. You smiled back, sheepish.

“Sorry, Joel, I was just thinking.”

He reached out to tangle your fingers together as he crowded you against the passenger door. “I could tell, sweetheart. So? How do you think it went?” He looked a little worried, which was sweet.

“Honestly, Joel, I think it went really well. Sorry about the interrogation.” You sighed as you leaned against the truck.

He shook his head. “No, I expected it, or something like. I’m happy to answer her questions. You know, to a point.” 

You laughed. “She respects honesty. So you probably won some points, with all that.”

He smiled at you and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Good. I want her to like me. I want her to meet Sarah, too.” 

For a moment the two of you just smiled at each other. You were shaky, like you were coming down from a huge adrenaline rush, and you supposed that wasn’t far off of what happened. You heaved a deep breath, shaking off your nerves. “Do you have some time, Joel? Want to come over for a bit?”

He grinned, a bit wicked. “Tommy’s taking Sarah to a movie after soccer practice. I’m all yours until dinner time, baby.”

You pulled him into a kiss. “Good,” you mumbled against his lips. “Take me home, cowboy.”

…

Ellie (3:02 PM): ok, he’s maybe a little bit cool. he’s alright (3:03 PM): I want to meet Sarah (3:03 PM): but I think he checks out

you (3:05 PM): thanks, Ellie. I’m glad you got along. even if you had to embarrass me to do it

Ellie (3:06 PM): it’s not my fault you can’t make soup (3:07 PM): do you think he meant it when he offered to teach me to play guitar or was he just doing that adult thing where you say nice things to kids 🙄

you(3:08 PM): he meant it. but I’d be there too. if you’re interested

Ellie (3:10 PM): I’ll think about it (3:14 PM): Beth was right though. he’s pathetically into you (3:15 PM): like I thought you were bad (3:15 PM): but he’s on a whole other level

you (3:16 PM): I thought you’d be happy about that

Ellie (3:17 PM): don’t make me admit to having feelings

you(3:18 PM): 😇

…

sis 👯 (4:12 PM): finally, my break! How did it go?

you (4:15 PM): yay! I think it went ok? You should ask Ellie but her official verdict is that he’s “alright” and maybe “a little bit cool”

sis 👯 (4:16 PM): well damn. High praise

you (4:16 PM): I know!

sis 👯 (4:18 PM): I’m heading back in but now I want to meet him, too

you(4:19 PM): of course! He’d love that. Also he offered to teach Ellie to play guitar and I could tell she was interested, but I promised I’d be there if she does want to take lessons. To make her comfortable

sis 👯 (4:20 PM): she’d probably love that, if she does actually think he’s alright. But yeah I’d want you there. And not until after I meet him.

you (4:21 PM): of course 👍

...

a/n: they met! it happened! what do we think?

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM #ellie williams

[houseofevanbuckley]

It’s not that he never thought about his own ass but since he kissed Tommy that first time, and that second, and third, and now they’re probably approaching the low 200 after a few weeks, he’s starting to think about it

And yeah, in all these years he mostly thought about how to make it hot, how to get girls to look at it and like it.

And well, his confidence isn’t always all that great but he knows he has a good body ok? That’s one of the things he’s confident in.

Except, well, he’s a little hairy, and what if Tommy doesn’t like it ?

Buck has never looked at his ass as often as he is now, each morning after his shower, and when getting ready to sleep

And he doesn’t know how to ask

He knows realistically that Tommy would answer and not mock him but he feels so awkward, he can’t even imagine opening his mouth to ask “so, my ass is a little hairy, is it a turn off for you?” And if yes, then what ? Would he have to shave? To wax? Would he want to ?

They’ve been cuddling on his bed now, getting up to probably around 250/280 kisses now and Tommy’s hands are everywhere, roaming his back, his shoulders, his chest, his arms

And they’re going back to his back, sneaking under his shirt and resting so very low on his back he can feel Tommy’s pinky grazing his jeans and the top of his boxer and he can’t anymore

He pulls back and just blurt “I’m hairy” and he can feel the heat on his face, and he knows he’s turning so red, he’s grateful for the low lights of his room

“Uh?” Tommy is still dazed by all the kisses, he had Buck sucking on his tongue less than 0.2seconds ago and his brain isn’t functioning fully yet

“I mean my ass. I’m hairy…”

“Babe… is it why you were so tense anytime my hand was down on your back?”

“I just… I just don’t want you to be disgusted or anything”

“Baby…” Tommy says before kissing his lips softly, “I’ve seen your legs, and the little bits on your chest you call hair, I figured you’d have some there too and I don’t mind at all. Full disclosure, I’m not a twink either and sure I’d shave if you want me to but it’s not something I do often or ask of my partners”

“Oh … oh ok”

“Were you that worried?”

Buck just shrugs but he can feel his lungs finally able to fully breath, to let go of that anxiety that took over him in the past few weeks.

“It’s ok baby,” says Tommy kissing down his jaw, “I’m sure your ass look amazing, with or without hair”

Buck just snorts and let himself be consumed by Tommy’s mouth, and when Tommy’s hand is back just above his ass, he doesn’t tense when his boyfriend pinkie just teases the top of his ass.

#this is dedicated to Taylor Zakhar Perez and his ‘look babe’ to Matthew #bucktommy #your ass will always be famous TZP #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #911 abc #tevan #evan buck buckley #buck and tommy #evan x tommy #tommybuck #kinley #kinkley

[crimsonstonetranslations]

Shinrei Tantei Yakumo volume 6.5 - Unexpressed Feelings

Shinrei Tantei Yakumo novel translation

Volume 6.5 — Unexpressed Feelings

(JP-EN Translation by @cleverwolfpoetry - Editing & Scans by Zel)

Haruka was on her way to the Movie Research Circle clubroom, her objective none other than to meet Yakumo. However, before she reached the clubroom, Yakumo’s figure caught her eye in an unexpected situation. Distressed by this fact, what would Haruka do...!? (file 02: “Message”), as well as an alternate version of the short story “Repayment”, which depicted the aftermath of the case included at the end of the third volume of the bunko, in a reader-only special edition. Two small episodes from a time when the distance between Yakumo and Haruka was still awkward.

-

file 01 - repayment

-

It had been a week since that case.

Haruka made her way towards the Movie Research Circle clubroom located in the building behind building B.

Not that there was any trouble to bring. However, today marked the end of all classes for the first semester, and the university was set to begin its summer break the following day. Besides that, she wanted to see Yakumo's sulky face.

“Hey–”

When Haruka opened the door, Yakumo was about to leave the room.

Suddenly finding herself face to face with him, she got flustered for no reason.

“What's up with you?” 

Yakumo said, yawning loudly.

“Are you going out?”

“Yeah. I've got some unfinished business from the last case.”

Yakumo was scratching his head as if it was really troublesome.  

“By the last case, is it Kamiyama-san's?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t that case already closed?”

“Not yet. I have to return this.”

Yakumo raised the diary he’d been holding in his right hand, showing it to Haruka.

“Oh.”

— That is Rika-san's diary.

The one Haruka had borrowed from Rika's father. The sorrowful expression painted on that man’s face came back to her mind. At the same time, Haruka remembered the promise she had made to him.

‘I'm going to find out why Rika died—’ she had told him back then.

“I’m coming too,”  

Haruka declared, staring into Yakumo's eyes.

To tell the truth, she didn’t feel comfortable meeting Rika's father again. That man believed that his daughter hadn’t committed suicide. And yet, the truth was different. 

I don't know what to say to him when we meet. Any words of comfort would sound meaningless.

Even so, I must meet him — that was how she felt.

“Suit yourself,” said Yakumo, sighing exaggeratedly following a brief annoyance on his face.

* * *

Haruka took the train, got off at the station of the town where Rika's father lived, and walked beside Yakumo along the railway line.

She took a glance at Yakumo's profile, walking with no emotion showing on his face.

Back then, while she had hurt and crumbled apart, Yakumo had gently pulled Haruka's head to his chest.

At that moment, an array of emotions had mixed within her and without knowing why, she had buried her face in his chest and cried. Remembering it now, she suddenly felt embarrassed and blushed all the way to her ears.

“What's wrong?”

Being called out by Yakumo made her heart skip a beat.

“Nothing.”

“It’s fine that you like to eat, but you should be moderate about it.”

— What kind of misunderstanding could have led to that conclusion?

She had thought about saying something back, but there was no way she could say what she was really thinking, so she silently chased Yakumo's back as he swiftly walked.

When they reached the front of the apartment, a doubtful expression appeared on Yakumo’s face.

“What's wrong?”

Yakumo pressed the intercom without answering Haruka's question.

A moment later, Rika's father appeared from inside the house. He looked so exhausted that Haruka wondered if he was still alive.

Yakumo stared at him silently, as if observing him.

“Um…please, excuse me for the other day. I came to return the diary.”

Haruka spoke up with a tense expression.

The man silently entered the room, leaving the door open. She turned her eyes on Yakumo, unsure of what to do. Yakumo took off his shoes and went inside the house, as if this was perfectly normal.

— I wonder if this is okay.

Haruka followed Yakumo's lead, although still hesitant.

She entered the same tatami room as her last visit and sat down facing the old man across the Japanese floor table.

Yakumo entered the room, but instead of sitting down, he kept looking around. It was as if there was something there —

“Yakumo-kun. The diary.” Haruka urged, unable to bear it anymore.

“Yeah.”

Yakumo replied shortly and put the diary on the table.

The old man took the diary with both hands and placed it on his crossed legs like it was his own beloved child.

It was going to be painful, but now that she was involved in it, she had to tell him the truth about Rika's suicide.

“Um...about Rika-san...”

He shook his head, as if to stop Haruka’s words.

“I’ve already heard it.”

His voice sounded as if it was about to fade away at any moment.

“I see…”

“Yesterday, a detective called Gotou-san came to see me.”

— I see, so Gotou-san did.

“That detective said he was sorry and got down on his knees right here to apologise. But even if he did that, Rika won't come back …”

He said in a trembling voice, clawing at the tatami.

She understood Gotou's feelings so much that it hurt. That was the sort of man he was. He would carry everything on his back, even when it wasn’t his responsibility.

But she also understood what Rika's father had said. No matter how much Gotou bowed down, it would be all too late.

“Your death will not bring Rika-san back.”

Yakumo said, turning his sharp gaze on him.

— What is he saying out of nowhere?

Contrary to Haruka's confusion, Rika's father looked up in surprise. His eyes were saying that Yakumo had hit the mark.

“I…”

“You intend to die.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In that case, let me ask you, why is the room window closed? And why is there duct tape on the window frame?”

“What I do is none of your business.”

Rika's father said indifferently.

“It doesn't work like that.”

Rika's father looked up in surprise at Yakumo's words.

“Because of you, there are spirits unable to rest in peace.”

“Because of me…”

Rika's father looked puzzled.

Yakumo nodded firmly and pointed to a corner of the room. Haruka couldn’t see anything, but such wasn’t the case for Yakumo. 

“Rika-san and your wife are watching you all the time.”

Yakumo said quietly after a short silence.

“What nonsense…”　

Rika's father turned his face away grimly.

“It isn’t nonsense. Yakumo-kun can see them,” 

Haruka said without thinking.

She glanced at Yakumo. Yakumo had noticed this and remained silent. Haruka arbitrarily interpreted it as an approval response and continued the conversation.

“It may be hard to believe, but Yakumo-kun can see the spirits of the dead.”

“You can see them?”

“Yes. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to uncover the truth behind the case.”

“Are Rika and Satoko really here?”

Rika's father looked around the room restlessly, to which Yakumo replied shortly, “Yes.”

“What are they saying?”

Rika's father asked, clinging to Yakumo.

“It's still too early…”

“Early?”

“Yes. You still have things to do.”

“Things to do…like what?"

“It's something only you can do."

Yakumo said, then narrowed his eyes.

After coming here, Yakumo's true intentions had finally become clear to Haruka. Thanks to their relationship so far, she had thought she knew more about Yakumo than other people. This expression—.

“I have lost my daughter, my wife, and my job. There’s nothing an old man like me can do…”

Rika's father bit his lower lip and hung his head weakly.

“Please, help those who are suffering the same way as Rika-san.”

Haruka pleaded with him.

“I couldn't help my daughter.”

“That's why, this time you can help her. That is something only you can do. And it's also what Rika-san and your wife want.”

Yakumo's tone was detached, but his eyes were full of kindness.

It reminded her of the words Yakumo had said before. Even beyond the pitch-black darkness, a small light could be seen. Perhaps, it was because darkness existed that light could shine.

“They won’t let me die so easily, will they? My wife and daughter are really strict on me …” Rika's father muttered, and let his tears fall onto the tatami mat drop by drop.

Yakumo waited for him to regain his composure before calling out, “Let's go.”

Haruka bowed repeatedly to Rika's father and left the apartment with Yakumo. 

On the road along the railway line, while heading towards the station, Haruka turned towards Yakumo's back and began to speak.

“Hey. You lied earlier, didn't you?”

“Don't go around saying disreputable things about people.”

Yakumo also stopped and scratched his head in annoyance.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I'm not playing dumb. His wife and his daughter Rika-san really were there.”

— Is that so?

She thought she had read the emotions from Yakumo's expression, yet had she been mistaken? But it didn't make any sense.

“Tell me the truth.”

“It's the truth. They both wouldn’t have wanted him to die.”

“Then—”

“However, I just didn't know how to persuade him.”

“There it is, I knew you were lying.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because, you said…they want him to help people who are suffering the same way as Rika-san…”

“As expected, you're an idiot.” said Yakumo, interrupting Haruka's words.

“What do you mean by idiot!”

“The one who said that wasn’t me. It was you.”

“Ah–” She thought about what Yakumo had said. That was right. Yakumo had only said, ‘You still have things to do.’

It was Haruka herself who had said she wanted him to help others who experienced the same suffering.

“Well, even lying can be the means to an end. We both wanted him not to die, so all is good.”

Yakumo yawned as he walked away.

— Right. Whatever form they took, feelings have been understood, so that's good.

Haruka began to walk after Yakumo's back.

-

file 02 - message

-

The heat had been oppressive since morning.

Despite this, Haruka made her way to the Movie Research Circle clubroom, located in the building behind university building B.

She was going there to meet Saitou Yakumo.

But to her surprise, upon arriving at the courtyard, she spotted him there.

He was sitting on a bench at the base of an oak tree, eyes fixed on his feet.

Haruka was about to call out to him, but her movement stopped, as if she had been touched by something hot.

Next to him was a young woman.

She was about Haruka's age. She had long chestnut hair and her face was long, but she was a beautiful girl with clear cut features.

Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. Her shoulders were shaking, and she looked angry.

— Who’s that girl?  What are they talking about?

Haruka would have wanted to know, but the air between them was so tense and unapproachable that she couldn't get any closer.

Then Yakumo looked up and said something.

But Haruka could not hear him.

The girl next to Yakumo looked surprised, then stood up, scrubbing her eyes hard with both hands.

Her posture was as rigid as a model's.

“You said you loved me ... you liar!”

Her cries made Haruka's heart clench.

—  Is this a love quarrel?

From the circumstances, it seemed that Yakumo had talked about breaking up with the girl. He hadn’t said a single word about this person.

Yakumo had no obligation to tell every single thing to Haruka, yet she felt somewhat betrayed.

Amidst Haruka’s confusion, the girl quickly walked away from Yakumo.

“Are you spying on me again?”

Yakumo raised his head and turned his gaze at Haruka.

At the sudden words, she jumped involuntarily.

Yakumo slowly walked over to Haruka, his face contorted as if he wanted to say, 'good grief'. 

This man is pretending to be calm while acting like he’s in a love drama and making a woman cry. That attitude made Haruka somewhat angry.

“Hey, that's just awful.”

Without knowing the circumstances, she protested to Yakumo.

No, I don't need to know the circumstances to understand. It’s obvious that it’s Yakumo's fault.

“It's not my fault.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I don't really care what you think. But you best go and look for her.”

“Why me?”

“You're partly to blame.”

“Me ...”

— Why should I be responsible for Yakumo breaking up with his lover?

“Yeah.”

“Hey, wait a moment!”

Ignoring Haruka’s voice calling out to him, Yakumo ran off quickly.

— What?! What the hell?

“I don't know anything.”

Haruka said to Yakumo's back, but it seemed irresponsible to leave things like that.

— Ugh, this is the worst.

Muttering in her head, Haruka started looking for the girl.

Since she had only seen her for a moment, she wasn't sure if she would be able to find her, but she entered Building B right away and searched the empty classrooms one by one, starting with the ground floor.

—You're partly to blame.

Yakumo's words played over and over in her head. What on earth did that mean?

— Did they break up because of me?

The moment she thought that, her face suddenly became hot.

— No, that’s not it. This must be from the summer heat.

While convincing herself, Haruka continued to search for the girl.

After looking in all the classrooms, she found herself in front of the door leading to the roof of Building B.

This was the place where she had been taken months ago, during the first case she had been involved in with Yakumo. If Yakumo hadn’t come to save her then, Haruka would be dead by now.

Thinking back on this, she opened the door.

There she saw the back of a girl.

Despite only seeing her from behind, there was no mistaking her long, shiny chestnut hair.

She had her arms crossed over the iron railing on the rooftop, her face resting on it, gazing at the cityscape stretching out below her eyes.

A warm breeze ruffled her chestnut hair.

— It's good that I found her, but what am I supposed to do now?

Lost in her thoughts, Haruka slowly walked towards the girl’s back.

“Um ...”

When Haruka called out to her, she turned around in surprise.

Her eyes swollen from crying were red, but she seemed to have regained some of her composure.

“… what is it?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed as if she was trying to get an answer out of Haruka.

“Yakumo-kun told me to come and find you …”

“...I see. I blurted out all of a sudden, didn't I? I've done something awful. He didn't do anything wrong ...”

She looked down in embarrassment and scratched her nose. It was a sad expression that made it even more painful for Haruka to watch.

“You should forget such a blunt person as soon as possible.”

Haruka said without thinking.

The girl looked surprised for a moment, but then she seemed to have guessed something and started laughing out loud.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No, it’s that you've got it completely wrong.”

The girl shrugged.

“Completely wrong?”

“Yes. Saitou-san was just passing me a message.”

“What?”

“The last message from him.”

“The last ...”

“Yes. My boyfriend has gone to a distant place …”

The girl narrowed her eyes and looked up at the sky, where the clouds were rising.

“Ah!”

Haruka unintentionally raised her voice.

It was only at that moment that the situation sank in for Haruka. Yakumo had only told her the words of her dead lover. 

Haruka, who had only overheard part of the conversation, seemed to have misunderstood terribly. Her body burned with embarrassment —

“That person ...”

The girl began to speak, leaning against the iron fence.

“He wants me to forget him and be happy. I can't do that. After all, I loved him ...”

Teardrops fell from the girl’s eyes.

I don't know the details of the situation, but I do know a little about how women feel. It's impossible to forget someone you’ve loved.

“That's true. Once you know, you can't forget, can you?”

Haruka said in a whisper.

“Right. I've made up my mind. I will be happy for that person. But, you see ...”

“But?”

“I'll never forget him!”

The girl cried out loudly to the sky.

It was a voice so overwhelmingly full of feelings. The sound of her voice struck a chord in Haruka's heart, and without realising it, she almost burst into tears.

“Ah, I feel better.” 

After a moment of silence, the girl said with a cheerful expression.

“I'm sure he heard it.”

There was no proof, but that was Haruka's honest impression.

“Thank you. Thank Saitou-san as well.” 

The girl said, walking away with firm steps.

* * *

After watching the girl leave, Haruka made her appearance in the Movie Research Circle clubroom, located in the prefabricated building behind Building B.

Yakumo was sitting in his usual chair, reading a book with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Did you find her?” 

Yakumo said, his eyes remaining fixated on the book.

What a decent attitude to have after you dropped everything on me.

“Yup.”

Haruka let out a sigh and sat down in the chair across Yakumo.

“So?”

Yakumo urged her to continue.

“ ‘I'll be happy for my lover,’ she said. And thank Yakumo-kun as well…”

“I see ...”

Yakumo seemed to have understood everything and nodded in agreement.

But there was still something that Haruka was not convinced of. In the courtyard, Yakumo had said, ‘You're partly to blame’.

At that time, I had a slight misunderstanding, and I did what I was told to look for the girl, but to be honest, I was not convinced.

“Hey, you said I was partly to blame, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Yakumo slammed the book shut and looked up.

“Why am I responsible for this?”

“When I was about to go after her, you strangely got it all wrong, and came on to me. That's why I couldn't go after her."

— What an absurd theory.

“In that case, I don't think you can blame me for the misunderstanding.”

“Why?”

“Because she said you loved her, and she said you were a liar ...”

“I didn’t say those things.”

“But ...”

“Did you think I had a lover?”

Yakumo narrowed his eyes.

It was a somewhat embarrassing question.

“If I asked you, would you tell me?”

“It depends.” 

Yakumo said vaguely and slowly got up from his seat.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“To the sea.”

“The sea?”

“The sea was the place where he died. I'll tell him what she said.”

— Oh, I see.

If you convey her words to him, he will be able to rest in peace, even though he has been wandering in this world.

“Hey, can I come too?”

“Suit yourself.”

Yakumo said carelessly and left the room. Haruka nodded vigorously and followed him. When they went outside, the sky was blue as far as the eye could see — .

#shinrei tantei yakumo #psychic detective yakumo #shinrei tantei yakumo translation #psychic detective yakumo translation #yakumo saitou #saitou yakumo #manabu kaminaga #my scans

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.

#jon snow #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #ghost the direwolf #some random extra thoughts: #the aspect of fatherhood is closely tied to kingship as kings are often regarded to be the fathers of their nations #so we might see a parallel where jon-like dany-doesn't have children of his own physical body #but rather rules a kingdom as its symbolic father #think of how odin-a mythical parallel for jon-is called the all father because he is father to all men/lands #also it's interesting to me how kingship is a theme but it's almost like the actual theme is that of kings coming of going #but jon remaining and prevailing above all #we have robert who is a disappointing/bad king and his rule doesn't last very long and neither will his dynasty #jaime looks like a king and even if grrm didn't go through with his original ideas he was never meant to rule for long #in the new story jaime is symbolic of rhaegar a would be king whose time comes and goes leaving jon to pick up the pieces #then tyrion who stands “as tall as a king” but not quite! he still is not as tall as jon and tyrion also says in a later chapter #that soon he'll be even shorter than ghost + tyrion wasn't hand for long #mance who is hidden also has his time as king but it's very short lived and jon later absorbs his kingdom to make his own #so we have the wolf devouring the “left behinds” in a way but the interesting thing is this happens in reverse doesn't it #might Jon's new kingdom not only be made of remnants of the nw and wildlings but also have those left behind from the rest of the 7k? #it's possible since jojen tells us that once night comes all cloaks become black 🙂 #so yeah this is all just more jon endgame king of winter/a new north propaganda lmaoooo

[sosa2imagines]

Misunderstanding. Part 4.

Warnings- Angst, fluff, danger and a fan crush moment. -----------------------------------------------------

“Romanoff?” “Tony get your ass here Y/n is in danger” “What?” “Just get here!”

“Tony, is everything okay?” Bucky asks, noticing the worried look on Tony's face. “What did Natasha say?”

“Nat said they are in trouble, more like Y/n is in danger.” Tony replies.

“What happened?” Steve asks immediately, a bit of panic seeping into his voice, as he realized you and Natasha are in danger. “Where are you going? What’s going on?”

Few hours ago...

“Y/n talk to me” “Nat I'm fine”

“Come on!” she says, grasping your hand, pulling you along. “Let's just walk and talk...”

“Okay, fine…” you agree, letting her guide you along. As you two make your way down the sidewalk, Natasha pauses and turns to you, her expression serious. “Y/n, I know you well enough to know, you are thinking too much. Talk to me babe” You smile, happy at the fact that she knows you so well. “I should have told him, where I was being treated, I hid from him and lost him for good…”

“No, you did not lost him, ok? it was our decision for his own safety, hell we would have done it for Bucky too.” “He is freaking Captain America!!! Nat, he can take care of himself, even if we know it’s the other way around. If he wants to be with someone else, I won't stop him” “He loves you, you both are just going through a major misunderstanding…” “Nat I'm not perfect for him! He deserves someone perfect, like him...” you exclaimed, cutting her mid-sentence. “Did he told you that?” Nat snaps at you. “No…” you mumble, pouting at her, for snapping at you. She just rolls her eyes over your dramatics.

“Then don't jump to conclusions, stay on the ground before doing something stupid!” “Yeah, okay” you respond, feeling a bit tense as you anticipate her next move.

You stop walking, staring at her. Natasha is a smart woman, but god she had no patience for bullshits and over-reactions. But one thing is for sure, everything she says, is true and never ever argue with her.

 “Are you going to keep on staring or what?!” she asks not bothering to stop, or look at you. “Coming, god you can be scary at times!” you raised your hands up in surrender, as she raised her brows at you.

 After some few minutes of silence, you talk again, “So how are things with Bucky?” You can swear on anything, that you saw her blush and choke on air at the same time!

“What did you see or hear?” Nat asks, looking straight ahead, avoiding your gaze. You just smirk at her.

Before you could continue, a guy ran towards you both and pushed Nat in the alley. “What the hell?!” You yell as a man suddenly grabs Natasha and drags her into an alleyway, surprising you both. You quickly aimed your gun at him “Let her go, now!”

“What? Natasha who is with you?” The man holding her was looking in your direction, but not directly at you. “Hey, I said let her go!” You had a firm grip on the gun, ready to shoot, if required.

“Matt?” “What? Do you know him?” you ask her, not lowering the gun. “Y/n, I know him, put the gun down.” “What, are you sure?” Natasha nods and you put your gun back down in your pocket.

The guy name Matt, lets her go and gives a sheepish smile to Nat. “Matt what are you doing here?” she asks him. “I need your help…and” “Wait, how did you know it was me?” you furrow your brows in confusion at her question. “Your perfume that's how I knew you were near…” he answers rubbing the back of his neck. “Wait her perfume? Who and what are you?” you ask looking at him with utter confusion, almost feeling like a third wheel.

“I’m a very good lawyer and you are? He smirks. “Assassin!” you answer proudly.

Nat rolls her eyes, at your antics. “Y/n wait, this is Matt, DD, remember I had told you? and Matt this Y/n fellow avenger and…”  “That's him!” you ask cutting her mid-sentence, “The blind kickass vigilante?” you ask, totally surprise to meet the infamous lawyer finally. “Sorry by the way…” you say quickly, realising you are going ahead in your fan zone.

“It's ok.” he tells you with a smile, before turning to Nat, “You told her about me?” getting serious. “Yes she is my best friend, I tell her everything.” Nat replies with a smirk and a proud smile. “Since when did you started to make friends?” Matt asks in disbelief. “Does not matter to you…” Nat scoffs. “Yeah right!” Matt raises his eyebrows, running a hand through his silky hair.

You shake your head, getting some control over your fan crush, for the man wearing red tinted glasses.

“Umm...sorry to interrupt the reunion, but I supposed he wants your help with something?” you remind them.  “Yes, right thank you, come this way...” Matt smiles at you, gesturing you and Nat to follow him.

“Not to sound rude, where are we supposed to go and why?” Nat asks in a stern voice, getting serious now. “I was on my way for work, I heard some guys talk about planting a bomb, somewhere here and if my senses are right, that bomb is there. Right at the end of the alley, inside that abandon building” He replies with a serious tone.

“How did you know its abandon?” you ask getting curious.  “Senses” both Nat and Matt reply in unison. “Sorry…” you shrug, not sure whether you offended him or both.

As you three enter the building, you split. With Nat searching the ground floor, you and Matt start looking on the first floor. Most of the walls were collapsed, debris fallen everywhere.

Out of instinct, you helped Matt to walk, making sure he didn’t fall or stumble on anything.

“Sorry, I know you are a vigilante and can take care of yourself, I…”, Matt smiles cutting you off “It’s really nice of you to help me. Yes, I like to be independent, but you helped me out of instinct not because of pity. And I don’t mind a beautiful girl like you, helping me.” He smiles, offering you his arm, which you accept with a red face.

“You are blushing” “No, I'm not...” you bite your lip to hide the smile forming on your lips. “I can hear your heartbeats” he tells you, laughing softly. “Your senses are very admirable…” you smile. “Thank you.”

You both kept looking, from one room to another, before finally entering the last room.

“I don't feel right about this room…” Matt says, getting bit tensed. “Your senses acting up?” you tease, to lighten the mood. Matt laughs heartedly, he looks so cute, “No I think it's in here…” “Well let's keep on looking, or else you might need to get your senses checked. Tony and Bruce can help you.”

“Tony will kill me…” Matt says, as he starts looking around, by poking his stick. “You know him?” you ask, looking in one of the boxes piled up.

“Yes, long story for another day…” he says still looking. “Asking me out already?” You ask, coming to his side. “I don't mind, do you?”

Before you could answer, Matt's pokes a box and it falls on the ground with a loud thud. The box was full of bricks, Matt asks you, what the noise was and you answer, “Bricks. Why keep a box full of bricks?” “Yes, everything here is empty, except for this box…”

“Shit” you both say in unison and look at the place where the box was before. There was the bomb. The weight of bricks, had kept it off. Wires were connected to a box with code pad.

Without a second thought, you both sat on the bomb with half asses.

“Y/n, what are you doing?” “Keeping the bomb off, what are you doing?” “This is no time for being funny, get off now” “If either of us gets off, we are gonna die. The bomb has stopped under our shared weight…”

Some minutes later, Nat comes up looking for you both.

“Guys did you find anything?” She sees you two sitting together and she raises her brow. “Yes we did…” you answer. “What? where is it?” “You are looking at it!” this time Matt answers with anger evident on his face. Seriously why are people snapping today?

Matt explains everything to Natasha. She tries to defuse the bomb, but is unsuccessful. With no other option she texts and calls Tony. 

“Tony is on his way.” Nat tells you both, with a hopeful smile. “Now we wait…” you say sarcastically, to which Nat gives you a smile and Matt is still angry.

Nat makes herself a seat, using few of the empty boxes and sits comfortably.

“Matty smile…” Nat jokes and you try to suppress a laugh, while Matt just ignores you two.

“You know… whatever happens or may not happen… can you try to be less grumpy and smile? You look cute when you smile...” you tease Matt, even though you can see the corners of his lips turning into a smile, he stills acts angry.

“Why did you?” “Why did you?” You both ask each other the same question.

Matt remains quiet and you answer his question, “Matt I have fought worst people, aliens, heck gods and robots. This bomb is nothing.”

Matt was about to say something, but you don’t let him speak, “Don't blame yourself. Even if you had not asked for our help, I still would have been in danger, in some other mission. My job comes with danger, so there's no escaping it. I trust Nat, Tony and everyone else. Nothing will happen to us, Matt.”

Matt starts to relax a bit, “You are good with words…” “Thank you.” “She is good in lots of ways…” Nat winks at you and you give her a ‘what are you trying to do?’ look. “Is that so?” Matt chimes in. “Don't tell me, his senses pick that up?” you laugh.

Back at the compound...

“Come on, metal man, we have to go now!” Tony says, his voice a mix of urgency and concern. “Don't call me that” Bucky warns him. “Are you coming or not?” Tony asks with a raised brow. “I'm coming, they both need us.” 

“Tony wait, I'm coming with you.” Steve tells him. “Steve, please...” Tony replies, clearly feeling torn between wanting to have Steve with him, and knowing that he doesn't want to risk another fight breaking out. “I need you to watch the compound, in case we need anything, I’ll let you know. Trust me on this.” “No, let Bucky stay; I have to come please…” Steve begs and Tony's resolve wavers, as he sees the desperation in Steve's eyes.

“Fine suit up.”

“No! She needs me, not Captain America.” 

A/N: Seriously Charlie Cox is so cute and hot..!

(Comment, feedbacks and reblog are highly appreciated. I hope you all enjoy.)

Part 3 -

TAGLIST- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @lillyxlillian

#chris evans characters #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers #matt murdock #daredevil

[yrsonpurpose]

"How is a man to get anything done knowing Alex Claremont-Diaz is out there on the loose? I am driven to distraction."

#rwrb #rwrbedit #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #userninz #userveronika #chrissiewatts #usersteen #usernuria #userclara #usergayppl #mine* #well. there are no excuses #ive been staring at this a while #henry i get u i really do #the tensing in the third one........................ #i often think about how taylor is such a perfect casting in so many ways #like even down the eyelashes #i think we can forgive the height difference if the result is what we got #last rwrb related post until the full m&g posting occurs

[daisyachain]

Restorative or Transformative?: Homoerotic Subtext, The Closet, and Ciphers in Pop Culture. The nature of commercial art is that it’s sometimes bad and inconsistent. Notably it’s also misogynistic. One way in which audiences try to reconcile massive plot holes or gaps in character motivation is by reading secrets or hidden information into a plot.

Commonly, male characters are interpreted as closeted gay or bisexual to reconcile the absence of women from commercial narratives with the generally stunted and poorly-written male characters that form the focus on said texts. This reading has become especially common among a non-heterosexual milieu. Rather than transforming the original text into some radically different new form, this closeted interpretation seeks to make the original text stand on its own as a story rather than a Swiss cheese of dumb writing decisions.

This interpretation only works for a specific type of pop, usually genre fiction. Any story in which tortured male leads eschew women in favour of male-male bonds (because female characters are constantly killed off, written sparsely, or written out, because the production team keeps casting their male buddies, because actors demand to keep having scenes with their bros, whatever) can become a sounder structure if you put one of them in a closet.

The gay interpretation is the natural consequence of shoddy misogynistic writing from ventures like Supernatural, Naruto, all the biggest hits. It’s also the natural consequence of more benignly misogynistic writing like The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes or The Lord of the Rings, where women aren’t necessarily rejected but are simply absent from the worlds of the protagonists. When the emotional crux of the story falls on male-male interactions, this reads as romantic because society at large priorities (definitively heterosexual) romance as the pinnacle of human connection. Two forces are in conflict, the primacy of heterosexuality (read as: romance) and the primacy of men.

Anyway. All that is to say that the typical gay or bisexual reading of male characters in pop fiction comes from a very real place. But, in some places, that’s the default interpretation. Angst, insecurity, secrets, double lives, fatigue, disappointment, restrained passion, stunted personal growth, anyone living in the closet can tell you that it impacts and defines your whole life to know that you live in a way fundamentally incompatible with The Proper Way that life is structured around down to tax law and superstore prices (which assume a heterosexual nuclear family unit). Characters in fiction also tend to have personal problems because that makes them interesting and tasty.

If you’ve grown up on stories with the specific type of misogyny that can be papered over with a closeted interpretation of the male leads, carrying this interpretation over to any male character will make sense more often than not. Even a bit of angst or insecurity? Well of course that makes sense if a character is closeted.

Except that’s hurt a normal part of fiction, and sometimes the closeted interpretation takes away from the point of a character. If a male character is on another axis of marginalization, the closeted interpretation imposed by the slash reading community downplays or trivializes the effects of that marginalization in the plot by overwriting it with another type of marginalization. Alternately, sometimes a character’s heterosexuality is a part of the story. There are some sorts of critiques or investigations of misogyny or masculinity that don’t work if the character has an ‘opt out’ of the cisheteropatriarchal perspective. Not that gay/bisexual men aren’t except from misogyny, but misogyny masculinity and heterosexuality are so tightly linked that it sort of defeats the point if you interpret that character outside of heterosexuality.

All that is to say—the closet interpretation is a quick and easy spice to apply to the weaker parts of action-adventure genre fiction to make it taste better. It draws from a large enough sample of art that it’s pretty widely applicable. Because of that, it’s part of some people’s [my] default interpretation package just because the semi-dull macho show at least gets less dull if you imagine there’s a reason for there to be no girls besides simple hatred. That then forms its own problem where the interpretation that works with your average genre work gets then blanket-applied to all genre works and obscures the places where the closet interpretation doesn’t fix the work, and actually makes it less interesting.

#kelsey rambles #I’m as guilty of it as anyone. #just thinking about Johnny Storm and like. bisexual ass character. deeply bi guy. but. #what IF he’s just heterosexual. what then. wouldn’t that almost be…more interesting #if he’s Like That and not closeted? what twisty gnarled psychological torments would a good comic have to explain him #and on the other hand. that one post I saw about how miles/hobie totally misses the point that their relationship is about solidarity #spider-punk and spider-byte’s alliance with miles are the same thing and to read it as romantic erases the important part #and on a third hand. when speaking of miles’ story. the stupid fucked Bendis running joke/subtext with Ganke #to have Miles be gay would possibly take away from the messy and interesting part of his character that is being a person with nothing #to hide. a totally honest genuine straightforward kid who is forced to start a double life by an outside actor #but at the same time it’s dumb and a cop-out to throw in that much bait and that much of a genuinely charged tense friendship #and then go ‘lol jk. nothing to see here’ #the other thing is the semi joke in atsv about ‘coming out’ as spider-man #the most important thing about Miles having to hide is his relatively precarious position as a black kid. he’s not afforded the leniency #that Peter Parker would expect if he got unmasked. Miles is more cautious because he is in more danger because he’s Black #so to paint that struggle with the gay brush is to disregard the character’s raison d’être. while also #using that sort of language and structure deliberately puts a gay lens over that character and ignoring that or kicking it to the side #feels a bit cheap. to borrow the look and not the substance #way too many tags and it’s past my bedtime. thesis statement is: #miles morales is a character whose history is fraught with plenty of real gay subtext and whose character struggles are entirely divorced #from any sense of gender performance. he’s subtextually bi but that’s got so little to do with his story that it feels almost wrong to read #that into him because there is so much other interesting stuff going on with him

[stergeon]

Rating: Mature (horny)

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Relationship(s): Edelgard von Hresvelg/Byleth Eisner

Words: 11.5k (2 chapters out of, theoretically, 3)

There's a new professor of the Black Eagles house, but it's not the one Edelgard and Hubert had planned to take on the role—and to make matters worse, Edelgard knows her. She could never forget her, or a single moment of that hot summer night when they met in Enbarr.

Worst of all, the professor doesn't seem to remember Edelgard.

AU in which Byleth and Edelgard meet by chance a few months before the start of White Clouds.

#fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #edelgard von hresvelg #edeleth #byleth eisner #byleth x edelgard #fire emblem fanfiction #fe3h fanfic #my loathe letter to the past perfect tense #hubert's here but only in chapter one and like for five seconds at the end of the story that is as of yet unwritten #this started out as an earnest attempt at writing smut but it ended up becoming almost 20k words before anyone even kissed sooooo #if we're being honest this is two character studies in a smut trenchcoat #with a dumbass framing device that just exists to twist a knife #fun fact: this actually was like the third fanfic i ever wrote. i started it not too long after wrapping up shared space #then it spiraled out of my control so i've been sitting on it #i dunno i think ~12k words of preamble to agreeing to have sex is fine. if that's not your scene that's on you #someday i might work up the courage to post the next part #but if you thought the purple prose and self-indulgent pseudointellectualism were bad in these two chapters i will warn you #i'm just getting started #i have not even scratched the surface of how unsexy i can make a purported sex scene

[sqlmn]

OC RNG stuff.

-Lucinda is engaged to the oldest prince in a family of nine where there are 8 brothers and then the youngest is the only girl. She adores her future husband. -Ink Blot is a really dumb mage who acts as a street performer using fake magic despite being an actual mage. He just wants to be the center of attention. -Ruby and Luce are from the same plot (thank you RNG I love the dream wardens). They're part of different pairs and basically just patrol to keep dreams in check. Ruby and Luce also don't really meet each other in canon. Their routes don't overlap but they both interact with the main duo which is Colette and Marcus. (Ruby wants to beat Marcus up while Luce wants to kiss Marcus for what it matters.)

#i really love luce hes just so calm and collected in front of marcus and colette to try and look reliable #but hes actually one of the younger wardens who is made to replace his partner's old partner #so hes with sil and sil is just watching him for the first decade like why is he so awkward #when will he warm up to me or the other wardens he meets why is he always so tense #and then something happens and luce is sent into a panic because he learns that marcus used to laugh with sil and the retired warden #hes like ???? WHY DOES HE HATE ME ? WHAT DID I DO? and sil is like the guy is older than me and doesnt do change well #thats all there is to it he got used to my old partner and youre a wrench in the comfort zone hell get over it tho #and when marcus laughs for the first time in front of luce it is SO over for luce he would do anything for marcus #but then you get marcus who is telling colette i have to say things took an unexpected turn with sils partner #i went from fine with robert to being abandoned by robert to do you think luce is cute cause i think hes cute #and marcus is very much IM SO GAY which is fair cause colette is like MM YEAH SAME #and then you guys gotta realize i love my silly lil prince group where the oldest bro has a really cool future wife #and then the second oldest is like hey bro im stealing your wife for the afternoon and lucinda is like i see i see #and then the second oldest and lucinda just spend the entire afternoon dancing and shes happy to indulge him #then the third oldest is the original main one where he and the castle witch are on a mission to help another kingdom #but like the fact the oldest has an arranged marriage with a woman he loves #and the second youngest is in love with the son of two castle aids #who happens to be 40 and very worn out with stress from having to turn the second oldest down all the time #then the third oldest has a crush on a prince from the kingdom hes trying to help but the crush is on like an 18 year old #so the 2nd and 3rd oldest are constantly bickering over what the other sees in their crushes #anyway hi i love my ocs (gestures to them) #and ink was a really minor character in the plot bc it was mostly me paying attention to a dumbass vampire #and this thief who had to help the dumb vampire get home bc he has no sense of direction and had been abducted

[thegirlwholied]

not to have a grudge against all books written in a certain POV but first-person alternating, we meet again, my beloathed

#one 2024 goal is reading more (as well as writing more) the way I used to #but #jesus christ #i am making allowances! i am not setting down the books on this account... in all cases... #but this is the *3rd* series since December to have some degree of alternating first person #now: i know some people don't like first person at all #i feel this comes from fan fiction where it usually only feels natural if a fan fic of a first-person book #i like first person! #i like third-person alternating! #i like close third person! #i can love all three depending on how they are deployed! #some stories call for one or the other #and some stories call for present tense #and i firmly believe this as a writer as well as a reader and want to be able to comfortably jump between them #but chapters alternating between first person #...i can tolerate it when there is good reason #but ye gods not in romance novels where it seems to be a popular choice oh no

[iwantyoursexmp3]

in the sense that

#soooo disorganised but I’m hearing something. also realised he would love aurora #also potentially two bobby novellas depending on the arc of this one i feel sick #I just really want to focus right now on the days leading up to the diagnosis I think that’s a fascinating time #hence the description which would be a great first line if I wrote this in past tense #maybe I will write this in past tense but third person present is my best friend :( #it’s like you have to read this one with the knowledge that bobby is days away from finding out he is terminally ill but like #him as narrator can’t know that because it covers him finding out #well it doesn’t matter anyway bc who is gonna read it!!! JUST ME!!!!

[fideidefenswhore]

In June 1534, Mary sent a letter of protest to numerous foreign officials including Chapuys and Charles V. Written in Latin, the letter included a sentence that translates to, 'To clarify all the details of this Scripture we have, we say, we maintain, we assert, and protest that our identity is a mere fact of our knowledge and after mature deliberation on the testimony of my manual, a sign and seal of my own.' Through this, Mary was insisting to the world outside of England that in no way did she intend to renounce her title or give in to pressures to marry or enter a convent without the consent of her mother. This in itself could easily have been interpreted as treason [...] as it turned out, Chapuys had actually written the letter and gave it to Catherine to pass along to Mary to rewrite, copy, sign and distribute ten months earlier.

Mary I in Writing: Letters, Literature, and Representation (Queenship and Power), Edited by Valerie Schutte & Jessica Hower, [Chapter 1: Derek M. Taylor]

#the royal we [eyes emoji] #henrician #altho i think there was a bit of divergence btwn formal documents/letters and personal ones #there is actually a pronoun shift in her letters 1536 which seem to indicate the progression of events #to speak to self-fashioning #her first letter to cromwell she actually immediately uses the first person #but her first to hviii during the same period... #she doesn't use the royal we but she does speak in almost a sort of third person tense #she doesn't use the i/me but rather the 'her' #like she's a narrator speaking of herself #in her letter to hviii in 1533 she refers to herself in 1st person more explicitly so this could also speak to distance (they haven't spoke #in nearly three years) #once she signs the oaths in her letters to hviii she reverts to the i/me/mine as if to humble herself #it's interesting she does so in her letter to cromwell right from the beginning but i think trying to ingratiate #familiarity to gain the favour she wanted; maybe?

[doctorwhoisadhd]

writing and thinking about writing again

#thinking about my 'replacing pronouns in songs with neopronouns' thing again #and considering like- lyrical clarity. turning it over in my mind #and just like pronouns in general #'you' usually comes across as more personal so its hard to resist using it sometimes #and 'you' uses a different tense so could i change 'you' to a third person pronoun? #and also switching pronouns in a song for a single person how could you make it clear that its ONE person #and same for using they/them #and then it its how could you make it clear that 'it' is referring to a person. like unambiguously clear #writing something like that would be a fun challenge i think #but i need to experiment for now so changing pronouns in songs that already exist #ari opinion hour #i need to finally start my neopronoun replacement project that ive been thinking about for years. maybe.

[nostalgia-tblr]

If I could do Fics With A Plot I'd probably attempt An AU Where Lauffey Dies And Odin Goes "Oh Hey, Frost Dudes, I Had Your Heir All Along :D He's Urs Now :D" Except Because This Is A Shit Plan It Does Not Go At All Well. Because it does bother me. Because I worry too much about fictional monarchies having the 'wrong' rules. D:

#this of course means odin has also has to tell his son “btw we lied to you. GUESS WHAT THO!! I GOT U A JOB!!” #and he sends Thor along because a) characters need other characters to talk to and b) he does in fact expect trouble #and I reckon after some sort of tense Confrontation about how if Lauffey wanted rid of his son he should have the guts to make sure he died #instead of leaving it to fate like a COWARD #Loki would - by power of poshness alone - manage to convince one or two Jotuns that he does indeed count as the heir #meanwhile: existential crisis D: D: D: #but hey free kingdom nothing to sneeze at eh? let's go! we can do this! #except (obviously) no. you can't. there is NO WAY there's nobody out there with a counterclaim. #and if your WORST ENEMY raised your new king (who has a questionable claim) you absolutely manage to find a third cousin from somewhere far #off who also has a shaky claim but - here's the thing - he's not an obvious attempt to impose Odin's puppet on your realm #and then Plot would unfold which is why i cant write this despite my Weird Niche Interests being aroused (NOT LIKE THAT) by this idea #also i would answer the “was there no mother involved? did she not mind the infanticide thing?” (could go either way on that really) #essentially Loki does have Scheming Politician energy but sometimes the task really is just impossible #but perhaps surprisingly the ending is a heartwarming reunion and maybe - MAYBE - some sort of vague apology #because that really was The Worst Fucking Plan Of All Time #okay someone stop me making a new file (you-and-whose-army.rtf) and writing the extensive notes i've now got in my head D: #(but an AU so not really!) #do you want a civil war on jotunheim because this is how you get a civil war on jotunheim #...oh no DO you want a civil war on jotunheim?! D: D: was THAT the plan??? D: D: #i'd totally throw in an Ambitious Consort Queen because those are my jam <3 <3 <3 #fic-related #thor movies