#this drawing took me ages but it was so worth it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reasonsforhope · 4 months

Text

Ancient redwoods recover from fire by sprouting 1000-year-old buds

Article | Paywall free

When lightning ignited fires around California’s Big Basin Redwoods State Park north of Santa Cruz in August 2020, the blaze spread quickly. Redwoods naturally resist burning, but this time flames shot through the canopies of 100-meter-tall trees, incinerating the needles. “It was shocking,” says Drew Peltier, a tree ecophysiologist at Northern Arizona University. “It really seemed like most of the trees were going to die.”

Yet many of them lived. In a paper published yesterday in Nature Plants, Peltier and his colleagues help explain why: The charred survivors, despite being defoliated [aka losing all their needles], mobilized long-held energy reserves—sugars that had been made from sunlight decades earlier—and poured them into buds that had been lying dormant under the bark for centuries.

“This is one of those papers that challenges our previous knowledge on tree growth,” says Adrian Rocha, an ecosystem ecologist at the University of Notre Dame. “It is amazing to learn that carbon taken up decades ago can be used to sustain its growth into the future.” The findings suggest redwoods have the tools to cope with catastrophic fires driven by climate change, Rocha says. Still, it’s unclear whether the trees could withstand the regular infernos that might occur under a warmer climate regime.

Mild fires strike coastal redwood forests about every decade. The giant trees resist burning thanks to the bark, up to about 30 centimeters thick at the base, which contains tannic acids that retard flames. Their branches and needles are normally beyond the reach of flames that consume vegetation on the ground. But the fire in 2020 was so intense that even the uppermost branches of many trees burned and their ability to photosynthesize went up in smoke along with their pine needles.

Trees photosynthesize to create sugars and other carbohydrates, which provide the energy they need to grow and repair tissue. Trees do store some of this energy, which they can call on during a drought or after a fire. Still, scientists weren’t sure these reserves would prove enough for the burned trees of Big Basin.

Visiting the forest a few months after the fire, Peltier and his colleagues found fresh growth emerging from blackened trunks. They knew that shorter lived trees can store sugars for several years. Because redwoods can live for more than 2000 years, the researchers wondered whether the trees were drawing on much older energy reserves to grow the sprouts.

Average age is only part of the story. The mix of carbohydrates also contained some carbon that was much older. The way trees store their sugar is like refueling a car, Peltier says. Most of the gasoline was added recently, but the tank never runs completely dry and so a few molecules from the very first fill-up remain. Based on the age and mass of the trees and their normal rate of photosynthesis, Peltier calculated that the redwoods were calling on carbohydrates photosynthesized nearly 6 decades ago—several hundred kilograms’ worth—to help the sprouts grow. “They allow these trees to be really fire-resilient because they have this big pool of old reserves to draw on,” Peltier says.

It's not just the energy reserves that are old. The sprouts were emerging from buds that began forming centuries ago. Redwoods and other tree species create budlike tissue that remains under the bark. Scientists can trace the paths of these buds, like a worm burrowing outward. In samples taken from a large redwood that had fallen after the fire, Peltier and colleagues found that many of the buds, some of which had sprouted, extended back as much as 1000 years. “That was really surprising for me,” Peltier says. “As far as I know, these are the oldest ones that have been documented.”

... “The fact that the reserves used are so old indicates that they took a long time to build up,” says Susan Trumbore, a radiocarbon expert at the Max Planck Institute for Biogeochemistry. “Redwoods are majestic organisms. One cannot help rooting for those resprouts to keep them alive in decades to come.”

-via Science, December 1, 2023

#redwoods #california #wildfire #climate change #extreme heat #natural disasters #botany #plant biology #photosynthesis #santa cruz #hopepunk #sustainability #climate hope #united states #good news #hope

11K notes · View notes

skzdarlings · 28 days

Text

the ride ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by @rosequartsz : chan with the prompt ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ like the reader is the same age as jeongin so chan kinda feels bad but at the same time he wants to corrupt the reader so bad cushsisjsis

original ask: requested by anonymous : Chan and ❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜ ❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: friends to lovers, chan is a little older than reader, reader is not actually that innocent but pretends to be and they both get off on it lol. some not very safe driving lol keep ur eyes on the road. car sex, dirty talk, teasing, corruption play, puuuuure smut. word count: 2400 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

“That’s not fair,” Jeongin says. “I called dibs.”

“Too bad.” You stick your tongue out at him. “Learn to run faster, loser.”

Jeongin scowls, once more relegated to the backseat of Chan’s car. You are sitting pretty in the passenger seat for the fourth day in a row and Jeongin is playfully annoyed about it.

You and your twin brother have been racing into Chan’s car since high school. You are both at university now, but Chan still offers the occasional lift. With storm season making public transit a bigger hassle than it’s worth, Chan has been offering more rides.

Just because of the weather. Not any other reason. Of course.

You smirk, casting a side-glance into the driver’s seat. Chan is smiling at Jeongin through the rearview mirror, looking less like Channie, the boy of your teenage fantasies, and more like Bang Chan, the man of your adult dreams. He is wearing a baseball cap and leather jacket, his whole demeanour oozing an effortless masculinity, the bearing of a competent man who knows he can do anything.

And still, despite his well-earned cockiness, he has an undoubtedly shy side. When he looks at you, the tips of his ears flame an embarrassed, fiery red, and his dimpled smile is almost boyish in its sweetness.

“Right then,” he says. Then, like the endearingly cheesy goofball he is, he adds, “All aboard, ready for takeoff!”

“Jeongin,” you say, blinking innocently at your twin through the mirror. “You have your presentation notes, right? You don’t want to forget them.”

Jeongin double-checks his bag but you already know he won’t find them. You deliberately took them out and placed them on the kitchen counter.

“Damn,” he says, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt. “I thought I put them in here. Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

Jeongin practically flies out of the car and up the driveway, leaving you and Chan. It happens quickly, before Chan can even compute it. You can see the gears turning in his head, but you are faster, sighing melodramatically while gathering the hem of your skirt.

“Silly boy,” you say. “What should we do while he’s gone?” You draw your skirt up your thighs just enough to tease the skin of your upper thighs.

Chan is staring there with his mouth open, his words evaporating on his tongue. He clears his throat after a second, ripping his gaze away. He looks across the dashboard and laughs, a shy, awkward laugh.

“Your brother will be back in a second,” Chan says. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?”

He is white-knuckling the steering wheel, like all his restraint is being poured into that physical grip. Even so, it is not hard to pry his hand off the wheel. You know a stronger, more belligerent shove could not bend a determined Bang Chan, but the softest touch from your gentle hands will have him breaking in seconds.

You are slow, casual despite your racing heart, guiding his hand onto your knee. He makes a little noise that turns your whole body to pure, liquid heat. You make a similar sound, a faint whimper in the back of your throat, as you slide his hand up your thigh.

“Channie,” you say, your too-sweet, too-innocent voice part of your acting, but your breathlessness undoubtedly real.

“Don’t—” His voice breaks and he clears his throat. “Don’t say my name like that. You know—”

“What do I know, Channie?” you ask, blinking at him with wide eyes while you curl his fingers around your thigh. You bring your legs together, holding his hand between them.

He visibly swallows, throat bobbing. The redness has spread from his ears down his neck.

“We’ve talked about this, baby girl,” he says, his tone stricter, taking on that darker edge that makes your heart – and everything else – gush. “We’ve been good so far, okay?” If stolen kisses, open zippers, and groping touches count as good. “You’re my – you’re my friend. You should be like a little sister or something to me… yeah? Yeah… Yeah!” He shakes his head, pulling himself out of the distraction caused by you unzipping your jacket. He squeezes your thigh, a firm, warning grip. “Don’t make this so hard,” he says.

“What’s hard for you, Channie?” you ask, reaching into his lap and touching his thigh, then higher, finding the evidence of his words. A shiver moves across his shoulders, his breath catching as you cup your palm around the bulge in his jeans. “Is it something I can help you with?” You lick your bottom lip then smile.

“Oh,” he says. His eyes crinkle with amusement but there is a score of different emotions on his face, all of them smoldering. “You really wanna play that game, huh?”

There is no chance for an answer because Jeongin returns, hopping into the car with his notes. You and Chan separate, looking out the dashboard window. You pat your hot skin and try to slow your racing heart.

Sensing the oddly silent tension, Jeongin narrows his eyes and looks between you. Eventually, his expression sours like he smells something bad.

“Oh my god,” he says, then punches Chan in the shoulder. “Are you fucking my sister!”

“What!” Chan says, getting redder by the second. “Jeongin, how could— I wouldn’t— I don’t—”

“What, you don’t fuck?” Jeongin asks, then laughs until he is wheezing. “You can do better, man.”

“Jeongin, shut up!” You reach back to smack at him, rubbing your hand all over his stupid face and messing up his hair while he wails in protest.

“All right, all right!” Chan says, breaking you up. “Let’s just… let’s just go, okay? Okay.”

“Yes, daddy,” you say, mostly out of spite.

Chan squeaks.

Jeongin pretends to gag then slumps against his window.

“I’m gonna need to start taking the bus,” he says, morose.

Fortunately, thanks to the impromptu revelation of your shenanigans, it does not take much convincing for Jeongin to find another ride home. When Chan pulls into the campus parking lot to pick you up, you approach his vehicle with a grin and a wink.

You slide into the passenger seat, smoothing down your skirt while he sighs. It sounds more amused than frustrated.

“Where’s your brother?” he asks.

You shrug with theatrical exaggeration.

“Right,” Chan says, starting the car. “Got it.”

He puts a hand on your headrest to leverage himself, looking out the rear window as he reverses the car. That proximity alone gets you hot, the temptation to grab him already strong. You play a patient game, as always, stealing glances and suggestive smiles while he drives.

Halfway home, you put a hand on his knee. At first your touch is innocent, tracing slow circles on the denim, then you get a little more brazen, fingertips brushing up his thigh.

“Baby,” he says in that warning voice, eyes on the road. Holding the wheel with one hand, he uses the other to stop your wandering ascent.

“Yes?” you ask with all that faux-innocence. Rather than fight his touch, you guide his hand to your lap, placing it on your knee.

Unlike this morning, he does not play nice. You make a startled, high-pitched sound when he immediately dives under your skirt, his rough palm pressing down where you are already aching. Your thighs slam shut out of instinct but his hand is where it wants to be, his fingers curled around your pussy in a proprietary touch.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice playfully mean. He grinds the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit. He never takes his eyes off the road. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, though you cannot help but rock yourself against his hand.

“Mmm,” he says, patting your pussy then stroking your thigh, guiding your legs open again. “We’ll see about that.”

You keep your eyes ahead too, pretending not to notice when he glances at you. Then you gasp because he reaches out and tugs the zipper on your hoodie. You instinctively clutch it, wearing nothing but a bra underneath, having taken off your other layers to surprise him. He is the one surprising you, a secret sexy menace under all that shy sweetness. He unzips the hoodie halfway then reaches past the material to squeeze a handful. Your body practically sings under his touch.

“Channie,” you say, breathless again.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. “Channie’s gonna take care of you, yeah? Always.”

“Take care of me how?” Your question toys with that false innocence, the little game that gets you both hot, but there is genuine curiosity there too. This game has been escalating slowly over time. You want more and you are starting to get desperate.

Chan looks at you. His gaze moves over your mouth then your body, your skirt rucked up and breasts practically spilling out of your hoodie. He swears, looking back at the road with that red blush on his ears again.

“Fuck,” he says. “I want to fuck you so badly. You have no idea.”

His words have a raw, honest edge. He swallows, hard. You feel like one tightly coiled ball of tension, ready to snap apart.

“Please,” you say in that breathy voice. “Make me feel good. No one else can like you.”

You do not make it all the way home. There is a nearby lookout point at the park, a shrouded parking area that has undoubtedly seen its fair share of hook-ups. Chan parks there and you dive at each other like randy teenagers. You climb into his lap, bumping everything on the console on your way, the honking the horn with your backside for good measure. It makes you both giggle.

Then your laughter is swallowed by hot, desperate, open-mouthed kisses.

“Mmm,” you hum against his lips. You push his hat off his head and sink your fingers in his curly hair. “Channie, please,” you say.

He cups the back of your neck, holding your head where he wants it so he can kiss you thoroughly. His ravishing touch leaves you shaking with need, rocking against him to no relief.

“Poor baby,” he says with a little laugh, squeezing your neck then drawing his hand down the curve of your chest. He unzips the rest of your hoodie. His mouth follows the same path as his hands, down your chest and back up again.

He is working you up, deftly and swiftly, using just a few well-placed throat kisses, a few flicks of his fingertips across the sensitive peaks of your breasts. He seems so composed under you, other than the flush to his complexion, the heat to his skin that has him shedding his leather jacket. You feel completely undone, half-naked and writhing in his lap. Your hands tangle together, fumbling around his belt.

“Let me,” he says. He gets his belt open and his fly undone, then his hands are on you. He doesn’t just tug your panties to the side but rips them apart, snapping the seams like they’re nothing. Then those strong fingers are inside you, finding just how wet and ready you are for him. He makes a low, guttural sound, thumping his head against the headrest. “Fuck, baby girl,” he says. “You know what you do to me?” he asks.

“I dunno, Channie.” You pout and bat your eyelashes. “You better show me.”

He laughs. He holds your hips and moves you, positions you where he wants you. You are pressed so close together, chest-to-chest, so you cannot see when he finally enters you. But you feel it, hot and hard and filling you, stretching you, almost painful but burning so good. You slap a hand to the roof of the car, eyes closing as you moan.

“S-so much,” you say, because it feels like you have been sinking forever and he is still not all the way inside.

“Yeah, I know, baby,” he says. His thumb is expertly circling your clit while your whole body seems to soften, changing to fit him, like you were made for this moment. “That’s it,” he says. “Have a little trust in yourself. I know you can take it.”

His thrusts are small, his hands guiding your hips over him, grinding him deep inside you. Then you are clutching his shoulders, moaning into his neck as he fucks you slowly and steadily. It is everything you needed and not enough, only spurring more desire. You know you will need him again, the way he needs you. Just the way he says your name as he holds you, as he fucks you, as he takes you apart and puts you together again. It feels like that when you come, when he fucks you through it, saying your name and praising you.

“Good girl,” he says, barely above a breath. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

When he gets close, he pushes the seat back. You get on your knees between his legs and take him in your mouth. He comes with a low groan and another breathless slur of your name. Then you are back in his lap and his hands are everywhere, clutching you possessively to his chest. You are both breathing hard, riding the slow come-down of your frantic desperation.

“Fuck,” he eventually says. He seems shy again, giggling as he looks at you with a blush on his face. “We, uh, we just did that, in the car, uh wow, yeah, I, uh—”

“Channie,” you say with a laugh of your own, grabbing his face and kissing him. He smiles into the kiss, returning it with the same tender softness.

You kiss for a long time, ignoring the world around you. Eventually you have to crawl back into your seat and mostly redress yourselves, still smiling and giggling at each other the whole time. Your phone was buzzing in your bag so you finally check it, rolling your eyes at the message there.

You show it to Chan who laughs, blushing again, but nods.

“Right,” he says, “We should probably go get him.”

You laugh too, sending an emoji with its tongue sticking out in response to Jeongin’s message that reads: My ride fell through. When you are done not-fucking each other, can you come back and get me? Thanks. Sluts.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x reader #chan x you #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz x you #valentinesdaystories

2K notes · View notes

theplumsoldier · 5 months

Text

sore loser

summary: the scales of your rivalry with joel miller tips in his favor as he calls out your mistake and you end up a loser. the classic "you hate your partner but fucks him anyway"

pairing: mean!joel miller x afab!reader

warnings: 18+ please and thank you, hate sex, rough vaginal sex, spitting, slapping, choking, fingering, squirting, sloppy/rough blow job, degradation, age-gap, begging, biting, mean!joel, forced orgasm & multiple orgasms, tasting joel's blood?? no aftercare please let me know if i missed anything!! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

You hated everything about him. You hated the way he looked, the way he spoke, and the way he walked. You hated how he was always confident, how he was always right, and the fact that he always knew which buttons to push. You hated how he was a better shooter than you, how he was better at finding supplies than you, and how he was better at tracking than you. You hated his salt-and-pepper beard, the curls in his hair, and his sun-kissed skin. You hated his brown eyes, his deep voice, and his large hands. You hated how he treated you like a child, how he called you "kid", and how he looked after you.

Most of all, right now, you hated that he shot the clicker before you managed to put a knife to its skull, how he made it look like you couldn't save yourself. He took the win and he got the point.

It was a game and you were losing this battle for dominance, and you hated losing to Joel Miller.

You had been biting your tongue so damn hard to keep yourself from stooping down on his level and the taste of blood lingered in your mouth for about 4 minutes before the last straw had been drawn.

Joel just couldn't stop himself from being an ass and work in yet another one of his snarky remarks.

"Get over yourself, Miller. I had it handled," you grumbled.

"Sure looked like it," he retorted sarcastically, making scattering noises as he dug through a crate in the warehouse.

The way he didn't even bother looking at you only made you more furious. "How the fuck do you think I survived this long on my own, huh? I've been—"

"Ask myself that every time I save your ass," he interrupted mockingly.

Your blood was boiling in your veins. He felt so fucking superior and it was driving you insane. You knew your worth, but for some reason, you had this crippling urge to prove yourself.

"Somebody needs to knock you off your fucking horse, Miller."

Joel chuckled grimly. "S'that right, sweetheart? Wanna give it a go?"

His infuriating words made you stand to your feet, and frankly, it excited Joel to see you acting like you might just do something about it.

With a groan he got up himself, easily towering over you. You swallowed harshly, jaw clenched.

Joel's face was set in a firm expression, dark eyes analyzing your face to predict your next move. It was a face-off.

There was a subtle smirk and you wanted to wipe it off so badly. This was entertaining to him—a challenge he joined, a game he played just for the kick of it.

You couldn't win a fight against him, you were smart enough to recognize that fact (at least for now). So you breathed out, your nervousness drawing out a shaky laugh.

"I hate you," you spat and turned around, sure you'd only dig a deeper hole for yourself if you looked at him any longer.

"That what you tell yourself when you dip your little fingers down between your legs?" he wondered aloud, not even testing the waters but diving head first into the lake of all your buttons that he planned to push: "Don't think I don't hear you moaning my name when you get off in the night."

Your eyes went wide and shame colored your cheeks pink. You hoped he wouldn't notice as your eyes shot daggers, completely dumbfounded, hoped your anger had already made your face red. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly embarrassed.

The mixture of emotions compiled a message to your brain for you, and before you had a chance to regret it, you lashed out. Your hand stopped clenching and raised to deliver a well-deserved proper bitch-slap, but Joel caught your wrist. It all happened quickly, and it felt like you were watching on rather than being forced back against the wall, arms suspended against the cool and rough cement in his grasp.

Joel's head cocked, eyes blazing down at you. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?"

The sudden close proximity made you involuntarily grind your hips forward.

"So that's what all this s'about, huh? You’ve been givin' me that bratty attitude 'cause ya got your panties in a twist?"

"Fuck you!" you snapped, the words seething through your grit teeth, leaving a bad aftertaste on your tongue.

"But that's what you want, innit sweetheart? Goin' around acting like I'm the devil's spawn, but really you just want a good fucking, yeah?"

You hated how he was always right.

Your arms strained in his grasp, writhing to get loose though the heat pooling between your legs protested. You enjoyed having him this close. You could smell him, see him.

"You're so fucking full of yourself, Miller," you snarled but had stopped trying to fight off his grip.

Joel chuckled down at you, tutting: "F’you wanna be full o' me, too, darlin', all you gotta do is ask nicely."

There was no fucking way he was actually offering to fuck you. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't. And he was offering exactly that, you realized as his head tilted. He was dead serious.

You knew it wasn't out of the good of his heart, so he must be wanting this, too. And if he needed it as much as you did, you were going to make him work for it.

You ground your hips into his again, this time very much on purpose.

"Tell me you don't want to bend me over right now, Miller," you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze the soft flesh of his neck. His cock was hard against your cunt and he didn't do a thing to push you away. "Tell me you haven't just been dying to try out this tight pussy. An old man like you can't have had a proper fuck in ages."

He laughed. "Swallow your pride, sweetheart. You've never even been with a real man before, have ya? Always waltzin' around in your short skirts at the Byson, whoring yourself out for attention from those boys."

"Knew you'd been checking me out," you smirked, the movements of your hips now a consistent grind against him. "But you're right. And those boys can't help, they dunno how to handle me."

"I don't do charities, darlin'. F’you want me to fuck that shitty attitude out of ya, you're gonna have to prove yourself."

This time around, Joel pushed his clothed cock against your pussy and you knew what he wanted.

You wriggled your hands, inching closer to his face but never letting your skin touch. "Kinda difficult to get on my knees when you’re holding me like this, innit?"

Joel let go only to force you down on the ground, but you didn't protest. You had lost all filters, all of your arrogance as you were faced with his cock prodding at the zipper of his jeans.

Looking up as you eagerly undid his belt, you were pleased to see him inhaling deeply, proudly as he looked down on you. You pulled the zipper down, and your breath hitched as his cock saluted. He wasn't wearing underwear.

His cock was thicker than you had imagined, girthier than what you had felt while fingering yourself that night which he had so mockingly reminded you of. Long with a slight curve and a purple mushroom head unscathed. A drop of pre-cum covered the slit and you imagined it was crying for you.

"You gonna put that bratty little mouth to good use or do I gotta do that for you, too?"

Instinctively you glared up at him, giving him a look but it was washed away a second later as he took charge.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel forced you onto his cock, not giving you a second to wet your lips or spit on it. Harshly pushing you down on his cock, you found that it wasn't needed, there was plenty of saliva in your mouth to lubricate him. A whimper left you when his head hit the back of your mouth, your throat automatically constricting at the sudden intrusion. You felt your cunt mimic the reaction and clenched around nothing.

Joel was heavy in your mouth, the thickness making you worry the back row of your teeth would scrape him. If they did he didn't care, for when you looked up at him through teary eyes he was unconcerned.

He forcefully prodded against your throat, slipping in just enough to push further and you gagged.

Joel inhaled sharply. "S'a tight little throat you got there. Guess you haven't been whoring around as much as I thought," he chuckled, holding your face pressed firmly against him, your nose nuzzled in the patch of curls.

He held you there for a couple of seconds, allowing your throat to get adjusted despite acting seemingly careless about how you felt. A moment later he pulled you off by your hair, and you gasped hoarsely, blinking up at him through the tears slowly blurring your vision.

Hovering over you, Joel cupped your cheeks and lifted you slightly, bending down as he did. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but his fingers dug into your face, forcing your mouth open for him and he spat on your tongue, an obscene look on his face.

"Eyes on the price, sweetheart," he chuckled and landed you back on your knees.

With his hand holding you tightly by a makeshift ponytail, Joel pushed his cock back into your mouth and without warning, set a brutal pace sure to give you a headache. As slick gathered between your legs, a migraine was the least of your worries. You snaked a hand between your legs to relieve the tingling strain.

The breaths you were granted came in between the thrusts and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling dizzy, prompting him to yank at your hair.

"Look at me," he grunted coarsely, voice going straight to your sex and you ground down hard on your hand, gasping for air. Joel admired your puffy lips, smeared with saliva, strings of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. "You look like a fuckin' mess, sweetheart. This what you been thinkin' about, hm? Been thinking 'bout acting like a little slut f'me, huh?"

His degrading words fueled your fire, both making you want to bite back at him and make him come down your throat. Opting for the latter, you tried to take him back in your mouth, wanting to put your adjusted throat to good use, but he yanked you back. A whimper left your lips and he slapped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

"F'you know what's good for you, you'll answer when I ask you a question."

Wet and needy, you didn't hesitate. "Yes! Yes, Joel," you cried, one hand on his hip for purchase, the other hid between your legs, fervently toying with your clit. "Wanted you to treat me like a whore! Wa—wanted you to fuck me stupid!"

That's when he noticed your hand between your legs, eagerly seeking out friction. His brows connected in a crease of anger, and he had you on your wobbly legs one moment and hurled you onto a dirty surface the next.

"The fuck you think you're doin', huh? Touching yourself without permission?" Joel growled and for the first time his disappointment got to you.

He held you by your throat and you could feel the calluses in his palm scrape your skin.

"M'sorry—couldn't help myself," you babbled feverishly as he shoved a hand down your undone pants, feeling just what you had been so disrespectful to touch.

A guttural moan escaped him and you could have died just then, knowing you did that to him.

"Christ, sweetheart. You got this wet from chokin' on my cock, huh?" he mused absent-minded and you couldn't decide which you liked more; Joel calling you "sweetheart" or— "such a fuckin' slut.”

You were startled but thankful when he pulled down your jeans in one swift movement, exposing you to the cold air in the warehouse.

He didn't give you a warning before he plunged two fingers into your cunt, curling them against the velvety roof of your wet cave. Clawing onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, you instinctively tried to lift yourself and relieve the overwhelmingly intense feeling.

"Where you goin', sweetheart? This not what you wanted?" You desperately wanted to slap the grin off of his face, but he had you completely wrapped around his finger. Literally and figuratively. "Didn't you wanna be used like a little slut, hm?"

"Please," you begged, drawing the word out with a rugged moan and clutching to his shoulders. "Ff—uck!"

He fingered you at an unforgiving pace, three fingers and his palm slapping against your cunt each time. The squelches from your pussy resonated off the bare walls and if you hadn't been so focused on the pain mixing with pleasure, you would have been ashamed Joel was the one making you this wet.

"Joel!" you cried, tugging at the front of his shirt. "Plea-please! Need your cock!"

He choked you with his unoccupied hand, forcing your face inches from his. "Quit whinin' or I'll leave you 'ere," he threatened.

You looked up at him through hooded eyes, unable to comprehend your increasing lust for him from being this close. Joel's breath was hot on your face, breathing his air, you became dizzy from a mix of him and your impending orgasm.

"That's right, sweetheart, cream all o'er my fingers," he beckoned, feeling your contracting walls squeeze his fingers. Your legs were trembling, wanton moans spilling from your lips as Joel pulled an orgasm from you.

You incoherently begged him to fill you up, wanting nothing more than to milk his thick cock, but when he caught sight of your pleading eyes, he applied pressure to your clit instead. It was sore from the heel of his palm having slapped it repeatedly and it made you unable to come down from your high properly.

Your legs spasmed as his torturous fingers brutally skirted across your bundle of nerves. Before you could process what happened, a gush of pleasure sprayed from you.

Your cheeks flushed pink, realizing Joel had just made you squirt. You had never done that before, and you looked at him with an expression of surprise mixed with confusion. He looked proud.

Joel groaned as he stroked his throbbed cock, smearing the precum over the head while his other hand pushed down hard on your belly, holding you just at the edge of the table.

Stammering his name, your attempt at any sort of coherent sentence was foiled as he slid his girthy cock into your cunt.

Your eyes fluttered shut, walls clenching around him. You had never felt so full. "Joel—" you shuddered, gripping his bicep for purchase.

A string of curses left his lips, a crease knitting his brows together in concentration. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart, s'a tight lil' hole ya got 'ere."

Joel wanted to take a moment just then, revel in the sweet clench of your pussy, catch his breath but he knew you would notice. As much as he had a hidden desire to ruin every other man for you and have you tail him like a lost puppy, he refused to acknowledge how overdue this was.

He didn't give you another second to adjust before he rocked his hips back and slammed his cock back into you. If you thought his fingers hit a spot, his cock fucking destroyed that.

You couldn't even form moans properly as his hips rutted at a bruising pace, expertly molding your cunt to fit him. His face contorted and he grumbled something under his breath, but you didn't care to ponder what as he filled you up. You were still dazed from the previous orgasms and it was like he wouldn't allow you to come down. Your ragged breaths, his grunts, and the wanton sounds of skin slapping filled your head as you soared around on cloud nine.

A large hand snuck under your shirt, the calluses on his palm rough against your skin but you loved the feeling as he squeezed your breast, thumb and index pinching your nipple.

Your knuckles turned pale from clutching down hard on his shoulders, fingernails clawing indents at the exposed skin on his neck and collar.

You hoped the crescents would outlast this moment, that Joel would curse at the sight the next time he looked in a mirror. You hoped he wouldn't be able to get this moment out of his head then, not ever, thinking back to this moment whenever he would see the scars you left on him.

A hiss escaped you and tore the thought of making your mark out of your mind. His deft fingers were rubbing your sore clit once again.

There was determination on his face and animalistic hunger in his dark eyes—he looked as if there was no getting through to him, like he was stuck in a world of his own.

Whether he insisted on drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you for your pleasure or his ego, you did not know. Joel always had something to prove—to himself or the people around him, it was another thing about him you didn't know. In this moment, as he chased every high for you, you didn't care either.

You hated him for making you feel this good. Hated him for making you moan in pleasure, hated him for making your legs shake uncontrollably. You wanted to taunt him, crack a spiteful comment about his age or something, let him know he wasn't doing as well as he thought—but he was. You could lie, but your body would betray you.

There was no snide comment left in you as Joel's hips pistoned into yours. It felt too good. He felt too good.

"S'too much," you gasped and held onto his shoulder, not pushing him away but not pulling him any closer either. "I can't."

The pressure on your clit was too much. The frantic rubbing, the harsh pads of his fingers, mixing pleasure with pain in the most unforgiving way. It hurt too good to want to stop him, though.

Joel surprised you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy, and his jaw was slack, the blissful expression ruined by a smug chuckle.

"You can. C'mon, sweetheart, I believe in you," he tutted like one would to a child riding a bike for the first time.

It spurred something inside you, the degradation. Your hooded, watery eyes caught sight of his plump lip through the blur and without a second thought, you lunged forward and bit it, your teeth piercing the soft skin.

It was the closest thing you would get to feeling them, you knew it, and you weren't about to beg for a taste.

A slap landed on your cheek, sharp and stinging, but he kept his hand there on the side of your face, cupping it in an almost endearing way.

Joel hissed at the taste of blood—surprised but not disgusted. The hand cupping your face in the sweetest way turned to force your mouth open, and you grinned bitterly when he spat on your tongue, tasting his blood.

His thrusts became more frantic, the pad of his thumb sloppily skipping over your clit as he draws your pleasure out. Forcing you to look into his eyes while you come around his cock, Joel's too far gone watching you to notice the way his balls tightened.

"Fuck—"

Slick with your juices Joel slips out of your clenching pussy, jerking his cock a few pumps as he hisses, strings of milky sperm decorating your abdomen.

Your heavy breaths hang in the room like thick syrup, bodies sticky, tension at a maximum as the lust turns back to hatred.

Joel moves from you with a grunt, a sly smirk on his lip as he moves his gaze from the mess on your stomach to your eyes. He leaves you to clean yourself up and tucks his softening cock into his pants, the zipper resounding comically loud through the silence. It reminds you of a secret between children, zipping your lips close as a solemn pledge.

It was over and it would never be brought up again. As you did your best to clean up, get back into your clothes, and comb your fingers through your hair, your eyes were trained on Joel's back—if eyes could kill and all that.

At once, you were back to hating one another. You hoped your nails had dug deep enough into his shoulder, hard enough to leave scars.

#theplumsoldier #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #partner!joel miller

976 notes · View notes

atlaswav · 2 months

Text

FIRESIDE ✦

INFO: atla jet x gn! reader drabble, 1.4k words...... (bad writing i'm not proud💀) SYNOPSIS: you're the damsel in distress that falls for your saving grace. or: delusion WARNINGS: tiny bit of blood AUTHOR'S NOTE: not proof read (it wasn't supposed to be this long), I wrote this post without making it a proper fic to make up for the lack of jet fanfictions anywhere please take my contribution 😞 listen to fireside by the arctic monkeys 👍

You're a travelling merchant dealing in handmade weapons. Your craft is passed down in your family, and you recently left your hometown on your own for the first time to travel to Ba Sing Se to make a living there.

The day you two first met, you'd been on your horse all day, dragging behind you a creaky stand containing your life’s worth of materials and weapons (rattling with each step – it was beginning to grate on your nerves) with no signs of the glaring sun easing on your weary limbs. So when the forest suddenly falls far too silent for your liking, you don’t even notice in your heat stricken malady.

It’s only when a group of bandits abruptly seizes the reins of your horse, sawing loose your saddle straps when you realise you’re under attack. But by then, they’re already beginning to rifle through your belongings as you fall unceremoniously onto the hard dirt path, wincing as a bandit grabs you by the shoulders, pulling you up.

You reach for the sword at your belt – the one that you crafted yourself under the guidance of your father once he’d deemed you skilled enough – but you didn’t even need to draw it before a bird call sounded amidst the cacophonous riot.

Emerging from the thick treeline, a band of – kids? Jumped out, wielding perilously sharp and comically large weapons for their ages and sizes. The bandits scoffed at their appearance, brandishing their vicious looking blades at the children who charged at them.

Then the vice-like grip on your shoulders eased, and a hand appeared in the peripherals of your vision.

As you took the hand being offered – calloused and rough, yet warm – your saviour gave you a cursory glance, checking you for injury. When he finally met your gaze, you both froze in place.

Warm eyes, tanned skin, dark, unruly hair that loosely framed his face. In his other hand he held two long, hooked swords that gleamed in the harsh light.

Jet couldn’t tell whether you were simply shocked or there was something wrong – either way, there was a fight surging around you, and there was no time for greetings and formalities.

(if you looked for any longer, you’d have seen the slight blush dusting his cheeks)

“Behind,” You had no time to process his meaning before he stepped in front of you, meeting the serrated blade of the bandit with his own weapons in a deafening clash of steel. You quickly drew your sword and slashed at the arm of another bandit whose club soared a high arc above Jet’s head, eliciting a howl of pain as they dropped the club onto the ground and scrambled for the trees.

You two seemed to make a pretty good pair.

After the dust had settled, he offered you his flask of water, chest heaving, hair clinging to his forehead with perspiration, with a grin playing across his face.

“Thank you.” You take it, drinking your fill before capping the container. “But who are you?”

“We’re the freedom fighters.” His companions wave at you as they attempt to salvage the wreckage of your goods (which you supposed you should’ve also been doing, but you’d had a long day).

“And you?”

“They call me Jet.” he smiles, a glint in his eyes. “But you can call me whatever you want.”

I hate myself for writing that line but I can’t think of another thing for him to say

Anyway time skip a little, he showed you to the freedom fighter’s hideout, and you decide to pay them back for saving you by giving their weapons a little maintenance

They offer you further kindness by inviting you to stay for dinner, to which you accept – what choice did you have after the bandits spoiled most of your food on the ground?

You sharpen some swords, polish some daggers, and share a meal with the ragtag freedom fighters around the fire, laughing along with crude jokes shared about clumsy bandits.

Then Jet comes up to you with his hooked swords hanging loosely from his grip – offering them to you for maintenance – and your curiosity gets the better of you.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” You observe the craftsmanship of his swords, testing their balance, running your finger along the blade’s hooked ends.

“Pretty neat, huh? They’re Tiger Blades. Traditional weapon.”

“Where’d you get them?”

“Stole it from a firebending soldier.”

You raised your eyebrows skeptically. “You fight off firebending soldiers regularly?”

A grin. “When the job calls for it.”

“That’s not… dangerous?”

“You’ve seen me fight, haven’t you?”

In the firelight, his eyes are alight with molten gold.

“So your job isn’t just saving random people from bandits?”

He laughs, and the sound fills the air between you with warmth.

“I wouldn’t say you’re a random person,” you look up, but his gaze is cast into the fire, unreadable.

When he doesn’t say anything further, you sustain the silence, only rummaging through your bags to find another stone to sharpen his blade with before the thought occurs to you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah, I’d rather not try to sharpen this blade. I don’t know how.” you attempt to hand it back, but he stops you.

“I can show you,” he leaves the unspoken question hanging in the air, watching you with a certain hopefulness in his eyes.

You nod wordlessly, and you hand him the stone, watching him tie his hair up. His brows furrow as he angles the blade, quickly running the stone along its edge. But you can’t focus on the blade – not really – as the firelight illuminates his features, basking them in a soft glow.

“It’s not that hard – well it won’t be, for someone as experienced as you.”

You’re grateful for the dim light, or he would’ve seen the blush highlighting your cheeks.

“You just guide the stone along the edge as usual,” he absently says under his breath, “and use more force here.”

You nod blankly as he turns back to you, handing you the blade and the stone.

“There you go.”

You move to grab the handle of the blade, but your finger catches on its edge, drawing blood.

“Shit,” you lick the blood off your finger, wincing slightly as it rapidly flows out.

“Sorry, I –”

“No, it’s not your fault. I wasn’t careful.” you shake your hand, grimacing at the throbbing pain.

“Smellerbee, could you fetch the bandages?”

“What? Why me?”

“Just – do it. Please.”

Smellerbee grumbles something under his breath as he leaves.

You nurse your injured finger as it pulsates, face drawn in pain.

“You have a little something –”

“Huh?” your gaze flickers between him and your finger, unsure of what he means.

“Here,” his fingers graze your chin as he wipes off blood from your face – from the initial injury, when you tried to lick up the blood from your wound.

Your face heats up as his touch lingers, skimming across your chin to your cheek.

He’s utterly captivated, it seems.

“Am I interrupting something?”

He snatches his hand away with a look of guilt, and you turn away. “Ah. Smellerbee.”

“...I’ll leave the bandages here.”

“Thanks.”

“.........Don’t mention it.”

He bandages your finger with deft movements. Neither of you speak a word, but nothing needs to be said. The tension between you is electric, and any onlooker can tell with a mere glance (especially after Smellerbee went and groaned about the two of you to Pipsqueak and Longshot).

After he bandages your finger, he gets up from his place at the fire.

“You’re staying the night, right?”

You nod.

“Smellerbee will show you to your tent.” your disappointment must be visible on your face, because he huffs a laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t. I have duties to attend to. But you’ll be here for breakfast, right?”

You nod. He seemed to have that speechless effect on you.

“Right then, uh, goodnight.” he smiles, appearing to hesitate for a moment before walking off.

“You guys are gross.” Smellerbee mutters from beside you.

“What?”

“Gross. Look at what you do to him. And don’t you give me that clueless look or I swear.”

Neither of you could sleep that night.

(but when you woke up there was a bright basket of fresh berries arranged with little flowers throughout it at the door of your tent. You can only wonder who sent it, and why there was a note reading “sorry about your finger, please let me make it up to you.”)

written by @atlaswav, published 3rd of March 2024

#atla #avatar the last airbender #atla live action #avatar the last airbender live action #jet atla #atla jet #jet x reader #jet drabble #it wasn't supposed to be this long #sebastian amoruso #sebastian amoruso is so MMHMETJAFK #jet #☁️. writing

406 notes · View notes

entitled-fangirl · 3 months

Text

Are you scared of me, Princess?

Jasper Hale x human!reader

Summary: The reader sees the scars on Jasper's arms, prompting him to tell her the truth.

Words: 1,646

Warnings: talk of murder, vampire stuff idk, scars, cursing

Author's note: God this is angsty. Someone get 8th-grade me in here right now because this is what she thought she was reading at her age.

Masterlist <3

.......................................................

Jasper sat in the bed placed in his room, his mate resting her back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her waist and his face found its way into her hair. Her hands were placed on top of his on her waist, relishing in the feeling of comfort he gave her.

They were a strange pair, the two. The bloodthirsty vampire fighting his instincts to feed and the helpless human girl who wouldn’t be able to fight him if she tried.

But she trusted him with her whole heart. It had been hard at first. She had to marinate in the knowledge of the existence of vampires, and he suffered the constant smell of her sweet scent, calling out to him every second.

It was so hard for him, even on a good day. Her smell of her blood always drew him in.

The only thing holding him back from draining her was the feeling he knew he wouldn’t fight the minute her body became lifeless: dread.

But now, they laid in each other’s arms in complete trust.

Her hand wandered up his forearm, stopping at the unevenness of his skin. She looked down, pulling his sleeve up briefly.

Bite marks and scratches laid all up and down his forearm. She didn’t want to know how far up his arm it went, thankful for the sleeve.

She felt him shift. He felt uncomfortable. Scared of her reaction. But above all else, he cared for her. She could practically feel his gift poking at her emotions, intertwining them with his. A sense of calmness fell over the two of them before words could form.

Her hand still laid against his arm gently, her thumb brushing one of the bites to comfort him in her own way.

She felt his head move away from hers, leaning back against the bed frame. She used this opportunity to turn in his grip, now facing him. Once there, she pulled his arm into her lap, her eyes inspecting the scars in front of her.

He simply watched. He couldn’t hide them, and he would never lie. Not to her. So, he simply sat there to let her ask him or draw her own conclusions.

She finally looked up, her eyes locking on his. She’s thankful of his gift, because otherwise, she may have been teary-eyed. “T….Tell me, Jasper?”

His eyes softened. God, she was so good to him. So perfect. So innocent and pure. Everything he knew he wasn’t.

Her blood would be so easy to take. The feeling of adrenaline would be worth the-

“It’s… a long story, Princess. I don’t think you wanna hear it.”

She was visibly hurt by his answer, her hand retreating from his. “Oh. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry… I just… just thought…”

He chuckles to himself, teasing her, “Thought what, Princess? You really wanna know?”

She nods, her eyes glossy, holding an unreadable expression.

He sighs. He wanted to hold off from telling her this. That was his plan. But now, she had ruined the perfect plan in his head. Not that he could be mad at her. His heart couldn’t do that.

He pulls his sleeve up his other arm, showing her the scarring. “D’you know much about the Civil War, Darlin’?”

She nods, her eyes never leaving his forearm.

He smiles, “Good girl. Knew you would.” He took a deep breath, not that he needed to, but it allowed him to collect himself and decide what to say. “I was turned during the Civil War. A woman named Maria convinced me to help her train a vampire army. I was foolish and naive. I thought she was doing the right thing.”

He looked up at her to gauge her reaction. She simply stared at the scars, her head low in thought. He took this as a sign to continue.

“You know.. I was, uh, a major, in the war?”

Her head perked up at that, her eyes meeting his. “A..a major?”

He smirked, “Yeah. Major Jasper Whitlock.” As he said so, she felt a wave of pride come from his body. She didn’t need Jasper’s gifts to sense it, for it had come so plain.

He continued, “I trained them myself. Her army, I mean. I know you don’t know much about us, but newborn vampires are more dangerous. More deadly. They’re stronger than most.” As he said this, she could feel his tone becoming sharper.

“Stronger than Emmett?”

He nods, “Yes, Princess. Much stronger. You stay away from a newborn.” It had meant to be advice, but it came out a demand. “They’re more deadly than you can imagine. I’ve watched them do…” his eyes look off in thought, “…unspeakable things…”

A small silence overtakes them before she breaks it. “And you trained them?”

His eyes quickly move back to hers, the amber color glowing, “Yes, ma’am.”

“How?”

“Not easily. They don’t take too well, as you can see,” he said, his head motioning forward at his arms. “I punished them, too. Killed them when they got out of hand or weren’t what we needed.”

He feared to look up at her, but he couldn’t resist. Her gaze was on the window. He didn’t often wish for a gift different than his, but at this moment, he wished he could read her mind. See what was going on in that lovely little human brain of hers. But he couldn’t. He sensed she wasn’t distressed. He had to see her eyes to be sure. Not for his gift’s sake, but for his own. His hand outstretched to grab her jaw gently, pulling it towards his own. “Are you scared of me?”

Her eyes catch his, their faces a foot apart. “…Sh…should I be, Jasper?”

He considers her question quickly with a nod, his voice low. “Really fucking scared.”

She blinks at his wording, her brain struggling to comprehend everything in front of her.

He wanted to joke, take the dark mood away, but he knew this was serious. “I killed before this,” he gestured to himself, “I killed during this…. I’ll probably have to kill sometime after this. I’ve murdered many with no remorse, their bodies laying at my feet. Innocent lives and murders, too. I overpowered the strongest vampires with ease, ending them mercilessly. My heart holds no mercy. So, I’ll ask again. Are you scared of me?”

She wasn’t sure what to think. She couldn’t put it into words. Was she scared? She supposed so. Any sane person would be. But she trusted him. She trusted him. She trusted him. “You… You won’t hurt me, Jasper.”

He wanted to laugh at her sweet response. How naive of his little lamb. She said it so sure of herself. Of him. She didn’t know of the constant, deep thirst of blood he fought back every time their eyes met. She didn’t know of the pain he felt when she parted from him. She didn’t know of the horrors he had endured. And most importantly, she would never understand the terrors he had caused.

“You don’t know that, Princess.”

She took a quick breath in at his response. Every reasonable thought she ever had was gone. She should run. She should hide. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t. Her body remained here, on the vampire’s bed, his hand gripping her jaw while staring at her like she was prey. Every reasonable thought was gone.

She reached her hand up to place on top of his on her jaw, flinching at the cold feeling of his skin on hers. “You won’t, Jasper.” She began to even sound confident.

He smiled at her, his sharp teeth peeking out. This girl believes in him that much. What a stupid girl. Too trusting. Too hopeful. Too pretty. Too good. Too perfect. He could absolutely ruin her. But he wouldn’t. “C’mon, Princess. Admit you’re a little afraid.” He needed to hear her say it.

Her hand gripped his, pushing it down her jaw lightly until it rested over her throat. His hand now wrapped around her neck, her hand lightly resting on his.

He was speechless at her touches. Her movements. Her willingness. Her loyalty to him. His eyes stare at his own hand, admiring the view in front of him. Her hopeful eyes staring into his while his hand rested above her only source of oxygen. It was intimate. It was scary. It was perfect. She was perfect.

His thumb brushed her throat lightly, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his touch. He could practically feel the blood running through her veins. And she trusted him still.

They sat there in silence for a while, simply admiring the other.

She was perfect. Too innocent for her own good, but so loyal and willing for him. Her pretty face was the perfect view for him. He could stare at it until the end of his days. And she trusted him with her life.

She trusted him with the one thing his body thirst to destroy. And he loved her all the more for it.

He was strong. Resilient. An open book for her to read at her leisure. Protective was a word she was familiar with. She felt like his arms were the only thing she needed to live in the world. She trusted him with her life.

His other arm moved up her body, his hand getting lost in the hair on the back of her head. He pushes her forward, capturing her lips in his.

The hand on her neck stayed. But it never twitched.

They pulled away from each other to let her catch her breath. Their faces were close as they tried to think of the right words to say.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. She wasn’t afraid of him.

................................................................

701 notes · View notes

mccardswife · 4 months

Text

You are enough

heyy! this is my first one shot so it is not the best but feel free to give any tips!

arsenal wfc x teen!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, bruise, angst, sh, a few cuss words, suicidal thoughts, protective awfc and fluff in the end. Please remind me if I have forgotten some! (don't read if you get triggered)

(not proofread so if any mistakes give me a heads up)

word count: 2144

enjoy!

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

Being a 16 year old professional football player is not the easiest thing in the world. Yes, you do what you love everyday but it has its up and downs. I signed for arsenal 3 months ago but I had no idea it would be that difficult. I don't feel like I belong here, all the girls on the team are truly amazing don't get me wrong, but it is so hard living up to the standards. Especially when I am me, just me and only me. I don't feel enough

After my alarm went signaling me to get ready for another day of training, the thought of going to training today dreaded me, and it has for weeks. Silence, I lay in my bed in silence just thinking of all the bad things that can happen today. If you are wondering where my parents are, the truth is. I live alone, yes, alone as a 16 year old in England. My parents has never supported me playing footy, not even when I was little. They wanted me to have a career that was meant for "girls" and not "boys", but that sounded bizarre. Football is for everyone, but they don't seem get that into their head. My parents kicked me out when they found out I signed for Arsenal, we lived in London, but since I got kicked out I had to get an apartment for myself. It was pretty hard but my best friend helped me and I am so grateful thankful for her. I have not told the team about me living alone for 6 months, they would go all protective and wanting to know why but I can't tell them, not yet. I don't want to be judged. Saying to the girls that I got kicked out of home, even thinking about it makes me feel so embarrassed and ashamed of myself.

I lay in bed, in pain. Physically and emotionally. Last night, after I was out grocery shopping I took the metro home as always, when a man probably doubled my age walked over to me. I then realized that it was my father, he dragged me into a corner and asked me if I still was into all that "football shit". I got furious and started whisper shout at him, turned out that was not the best idea. He started going about me being a disgrace to the family, not only the family but the world, that no one is ever going to love me for playing football, and then he punched me right in my cheek. I felt thrilling pain in my face, but he grabbed my wrists hard and said in my face "You useless bitch, no one cares about you and never will".

That sentence goes through my mind over and over again. I was almost impossible to fall asleep last night, because of the pain I was in both physically and emotionally. What my father told me, got to my head and I was thinking. Maybe he was right, I am a disgrace, no one will ever love me, maybe if it would be better if I just disappeared.

Well, well. Got to get up for training and stop thinking. Seriously y/n, get your shit together...

I walked downstairs to the bathroom and got dressed and tried to cover the bruise on my cheek that now has gotten all blue, yellow and purple. It was really painful and very difficult but totally worth it when I was done and I literally could not see a damn thing. Then I did the same to the bruises on my wrists and after I tried to cover up the dark bags under my eyes but that was a bit more of a job.

Suddenly I got the urge, the painful urge. I took the hidden blade from the mirror cabinet and drawed lines on my right arm. One, two, three, four.

Then I looked at the clock. Shit, I thought. The training starts in two hours and we have breakfast together in the dining room an hour before. The metro usually took 30 minutes, I packed my bag in a hurry and left.

When I walked in to the facility I heard two voices yelling my name behind me. Lotte and Alessia walked quickly over to me. "You excited for training?" Alessia asked you. "Yes totally" I said in a lie, I think they saw that I lied because it did not look like they believed me at all. "What about you Less and Lotte?" you said to try getting the attention away from you. It seemed that it worked because they said in sync "Yes". Less and Lotte looked at each other and we giggled.

When we walked in to the dining room, everyone was there. I tried to brush off all the looks I got. Why does everyone look so suspicious today...

"Come here Y/n, sit with us", Leah said after I served myself food. Leah sat with Katie, Kim, Lia, Caitlin, Steph, Beth, Viv and Kyra. I walked nervously over to them and sat down in the seat beside Beth. They started talking and I just sat there quietly eating my food being in my thoughts until Viv said "Y/n, you've been quiet, are you good". They looked at me concerned, "Me? Yes of course Im good, just sat thinking about the upcoming training today". I lied straight through my teeth. "Okay, if you're sure. but you can talk to us though", Caitlin said. I just said a quietly thank you, and then we walked to the locker room and got ready for training.

We started doing some light jog then got into some training drills. I was already sweating, it was surprisingly very sunny outside today and I wore a long sleeve training jersey because of my scars. "Aren't you hot in that", said Jen to me. I just simply shrugged her off saying no.

I was so exhausted, my body is so tired and I really want to lay down. When we had water break I just laid down on the grass. Sweating, I rubbed my face because I was so tired.

Beth and Viv walked over worriedly, they have become my unofficial parents after my transfer to Arsenal. They looked shocked when they saw me. "What" I said in a panicked voice. "Why do you have a big black bruise on your cheek?" Beth said, "And on your wrists?" Viv said. "Is something going on at home?" Viv asked with a knowing look. "No, no of course not, why would you assume that".

After training everyone looked worried and concerned, my passes and shots got sloppier and sloppier, I was hurting more and more. When I was about to leave, Kim, Katie, Leah and Jen cornered me. With Beth and Viv looking guilty behind. They brought me into a private room and they started telling me what Beth and Viv told me. Then all of a sudden Kim said "You know, all the team has been worried and concerned for a while, I can't remember how many times the girls have repeatedly come and talked to me". I looked at her ashamed. "Why do you have bruised?" Katie asked, "I just fell" I said, the lie obvious.

I started scratching because my scars got really itchy, I really wanted to just disappear right there and then. Then Leah grabbed my right wrist softly and pulled up my sleeve, the last thing before I broke down was gasps from the girls. I started trying to make up excuses but none of them were having it, "come with us" said Beth, "We will bring you to the medical room and then we want you to tell us everything". I desperately did not want to but I knew it was no chance of me getting out of this.

When we got to the medical room they put me on one of the beds. My scars were infected, that is why they itched so damn much. Jen was cleaning up my bruises while Kim cleaned up my scars. I know the people who worked here could do it but I did not want them right now, it is bad enough that now the whole team knows.

Leah then said in her stern but soft captain voice "Now tell us everything". I tried to tell her that it was nothing. What Katie said broke me "Please babe, we only want to help you. We know it has been hard for you but please". Then I broke down again, full on shaking and crying. Desperately gasping for air.

I started telling them everything, how my parents are and that they has never supported me once for the choices I have made, that I don't feel like I belong here because I am only me... When I spit out the truth about me living alone for 3 months because my parents kicked me out and that they were abusing me for years before, I saw tears in all of the girls faces. It was a heartbreaking sight. I told them how I ran into my father last night and what he did and said to me and I started sobbing again and saying silently to myself "It is true, what he said. I am a reckless disgrace full kid".

"You are enough y/nn, I promise you babe" Viv said. All of the others agree but I could not help believing my fathers words. "Actually me and Beth have been thinking for a while, we have a spare room and big enough place for 3, and you are like our kid. I am being for real, we love you as our own family. All the team does, but we wondered if you wanted to come live with us?" Viv asked me. I was hesitant and I think Beth saw that because she said "We are not taking no for an answer". I felt a smile creep up on my face and as desperate I was trying to hide it all the others saw and started smiling too. I said to Meadema, "thank you moms". I realized what I said "shit fuck, sorry I did not mean to".

"Y/nn it is okay, you have no idea how glad that made us, you are like our kid" Beth and Viv said.

After a while of me telling them about my thoughts, how I have been feeling for the last weeks, they decided to get me into therapy. We have a therapist at the facility so we agreed to be going to her twice a week. "I am grateful for all of you, I really am but I just feel like a bother" I said quietly.

"No babe stop" Jen said, Katie walked over to me, she took her hands on my head and said "You are enough, a hundred times enough". "You are like a younger sister to me, it breaks me to see you like this, not only me but all of us. We and all the team loves you. You are the baby of the team."

"We will always protect you, and we will get your so called parents locked up." Kim said to me. "Not Viv and Beth but the other parents" Jen said in a playful tone.

"That I understand" I said with a smile of my face.

Leah asked me if she could tell the other girls and the Gaffer, she needed to anyway but it was nice she asked me. I said yes then she walked outside.

A few minutes later they all came in. Kyra, being kind of like my annoying twin ran over to me and hanged on for me for dear life in a bear hug. I started explaining to them a bit more, and reassured them that it was not their fault but my manipulative parents.

I also said that I called Viv and Beth mum and that I am moving in with them and Lessi and Laura said at the same time "about damn time". All the team broke out in laughter.

"I am sorry for not telling you but I feel a thousand times better now after telling you, I have been scared and not felt at home here for a while but telling you and knowing that I can count on you girls will help me. The whole team is kind of like my family I never got and I can't ask for more than that. I am so grateful for all of you, and I love you"

"We love you too y/nn", Leah said with the softest most heartwarming smile ever. "You are our family, blood or not you will always be family" Kim said reassuring.

"Always," Katie said

"And you are enough" the team said lovingly.

394 notes · View notes

actually-safer-to-kiss · 7 months

Text

See How It Shines

Summary: Spencer gets home from work to find Reader in tears over the new Hozier album.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff and comfort

Content warnings: The masterpiece of Hozier’s Unreal Unearth, me stopping halfway to listen to the entire album, me crying to every song I reference

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: shoutout to anyone who picks up on every song reference I make. I am instantly in love with you.

Spencer had been etched with the weight of unsolved cases and the relentless march of time, and he was forced to call it a night around six. The team had already pulled an all-nighter earlier in the week, so Hotch decided they all deserved rest. Spencer, however, wasn’t tired (he was; it was the late cups of coffee). Nevertheless, he makes it to his apartment door, skipping every other step. As Spencer turned the key in the lock, a soft melody flowed from the other side, haunting him yet drawing him in.

When the door opens with a slight creak, the music only grows. The living room was a sanctuary, bathed in the golden hues of twilight and table lamps, together casting long, ethereal shadows across the aged wooden floor. Plants adorned the walls and shelves. Since you moved in, he has never shared a space with so many simple living things. His record player, a testament to decades of shared music between him and his mother, spun its vinyl tale. This time it was for you, as it breathed life into the album as you sat on the couch in a nest of blankets.

Ah yes, it was Hozier day. The anticipated album release of Unreal Unearth. His girlfriend highly anticipated it. She had been vibrating as the week drew to a close with five days left, then three, then one. And it was well worth the wait, considering the tears continuing to streak her face as the Irish man begged for someone to not fall away from him.

Spencer set his bag down by the door and proceeded toward the couch with caution as if he were ready to pounce like a predator on prey. Except the end resulted in a tender hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him with a puffy face and snotty nose. It was Spencer’s next instinct to grab a tissue from the end table and offer it to you. Of course, you took it. And even though the answer was obvious, he still felt the need to ask, “Are you okay?”

It was a struggle for you to inhale, so you blew your nose again. "I didn’t expect this to be a breakup album.” The album sleeve was wrapped in your arms, proving to already be a prized possession. The tracklist was organized by the layers of Dante’s hell they fell under.

Spencer gave you a small smirk before placing a kiss on your head. “Well, I’ll go ahead and get started on dinner.” It was his turn to take the culinary reins for tonight. “Do you need anything?”

“I need to know who this woman is, Spencer.” You throw your head back as Hozier hits a high note that neither of you has heard from him before. You stay there as you ask, “Who made this man feel so much pain?”

“You want to fight Hozier’s ex-girlfriend?”

“Ew, no.” Your nose scrunched. “I just want to know how. The power to make a man feel this way.”

Spencer chuckled. He had answers. And he’s happy to not reply with any of them. “I’m making chicken parmesan. That okay?”

You nodded, soon returning to singing about holding a heart like a steering wheel. But you then grabbed his hand. Your eyes are red, and Spencer is sure you’ll need drops before the end of the night. “Did a part of you die the first time I called you ‘baby,’ Spencer?”

Spencer couldn’t help but smirk as he quirked a brow. “Do what?”

“They’re song lyrics.” You let go of him.

Spencer has never fully understood the uproar that comes with Hozier. Then again, no one really flocks to Beethoven and Chopin like they used to. Plus, Vivaldi wasn’t known for belting out in the middle of his pieces and Spencer can at least admit Hozier’s belts ( well, the ones he’s heard so far) tug at him by the chest. He came back to his senses quickly when his mismatched socks landed on the cold tile. He washed his hands and opened the fridge door with his good knee.

Songs of water and knives reminded him he had chicken to wash and cut. And the familiar feeling in his own kitchen gets the tasks in Spencer’s head in order. He could feel the weight of his week slowly lift, replaced by Spencer attempting to chop to the song. It was inefficient. Some songs play shockingly fast for a breakup album. He settled for a more percussion style of noise, making each slice more deliberate as a testament to his meticulousness.

The flour and breadcrumbs sizzled in the oil that mingled with the sight of you matching the pitch of the song and humming where Hozier shouted, caressing the album sleeve like it was alive and needed your warmth. The weight of the lyrics settling in your bones caused your head to fall in shock as a long, high note carried through the whole apartment.

The album played on, weaving tales of love and loss, each one successfully targeting your core and striking effectively. And when Spencer got into the groove of his own routine in the kitchen, he listened to the lyrics as they almost guided him to autopilot, reminding him of the joys that come with his leg around you in bed, ensuring you don’t move anywhere except closer to him. And how the idea of losing that is something he does not care to dwell on for long.

He could keep it together, he thought.

Until his voice soars about the glistening of an animal’s eyes. About the force of love for someone recklessly in the middle of the street. Spencer couldn’t help but feel a lump forming in his throat. It was a visceral reaction—Spencer's sniffle. But it wasn’t unheard.

You turned your gaze toward Spencer, your eyes soft with understanding. You could hear the emotion in his breath and the slight catch in his throat. “Spencer?” You asked.

“I’m fine.”

Your lower lip quivers with a puffy smile. “You’re crying.”

“No, I’m chopping. Chopping while completely fine.” His sniffles continued to give him away (sanitary stations over pride every time).

You couldn’t help but find the situation adorable. You lazily got up from the couch, letting one of the blankets slide off with you, dragging along behind you across the wood floor and then the tile. You carefully put your hands around his waist because safety comes first. You squeeze him, and he laughs a little. For a moment, he puts his left hand on your arm, keeping it there. You noticed how his fingertips were colder than expected as you looked at the cutting board from under his arm. “So basil makes you cry? Is that it?”

Spencer laughs again, diverting his gaze from the record player and clearing his eyes from unshed tears. “Today, it apparently does. There must be some emotional properties I didn’t consider.”

“Nothing to do with an Irish man singing his heart out?”

Spencer rubs his nose on his sleeve. Fuck sanitation right now; he’s about to go through it. The snot is evident. See how it shines, indeed. “Is he really singing about roadkill?”

“Yep.” You sniffle in return as you lay your head on his back.

“Fuck.”

“I know.”

“How does he do it?”

“That I don’t know.” You held Spencer as he let the music hit him. Taking moments to turn from the food to wipe his tears.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

501 notes · View notes

manachiichan · 17 days

Text

To see the world that you are so proud of...

Synopsis: Growing up obediently following your empress' shadow, your horizon broaden the moment you met a pirate doning a strawhat who somehow ended up on your island.

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x Kuja!Reader, Platonic!Boa Hancock X Fem!Reader

Spoilers from the Amazon Lily and Marineford arcs. Reader is a pure sunshine who is both kind and naive. This is mostly focused on yours and Hancock's relationship.

|| One Piece Masterlist ||

|| Part 1 || Part 2 ||

"Rejoice.. From this day and so on, you will directly serve me alone...."

Growing up, all you ever did was listen and obey those who ranks stronger than you. And that person was no other than Boa Hancock, the Empress of your island.

When your mother died unexpectedly, she took you under her watchful eyes. Being only a child at the time, you were unaware of how dangerous your surroundings were. Surrounded by the jungle and waters filled with sea kings, you will never survive.

The women were all like walking on eggshells around you. Your mother was a fearsome warrior that boarded the Kuja Pirates' ship. She was well respected by her peers and because of that, the rest treated you like a delicated flower that deserved to be sheltered.

You were a child without a maternal protection and guidance.

But after being graced by her benelovence, you grew to adore the snake princess and bow to serve her with everything you have. Hancock treated you like how she would treat anyone below her, yet in your child like mind, she was the only one who didn't see you as fragile as glass.

And to repay that, you went and learned the ways of the women in the island.

"Snake Princess, please allow me to serve your every needs! I won't hesistate to do all of them!"

"Snake Princess, I brought you your tea. Just like how you like it..."

"Please leave quietly. The Snake Princess is currently occupied and cannot see an audience."

"My empress, you seems to be slightly fatigued, should I draw a herb bath to soothe your mind and cleanse your body?"

"I'll be on guard by the door if you ever request anything, Snake Princess. I'll be happy to aid you with all of my capabilities...."

You learned and mastered observation haki at a young age as you often went and learned everything that should and shouldn't do around the Pirate Empress. After all, you felt like you owe your life to her.

But that's also when you finally saw through the mask she often wore. She has a deep fear somewhere in her heart that she tried so hard to hide, the same fear that her sisters share with her.

You kept silent about it as you thought it wasn't your place to ask. But after that, you began to see her in a different light.

Boa Hancock is much more valiantly elegant than what you previously thought. And you admire her strong demeanor in hopes that one day, you'll be like her too..

As a Kuja warrior, you strived and hone your skills in hopes of pleasing your Empress even more. You worked harder to be a better version of yourself. You became the best hunter of your tribe while fully adapting to your own snake weapon.

Hancock rarely talk to you, however, she kept you often at her side, doing her bidding.

"What is with that smile on your face?"

"I'm happy, Snake Princess. To be able to prove my worth by serving you, it's the greatest honor..."

Most women would cower under her cold gaze, but you on the other hand, was brave enough to stare back with much admiration, carrying and obeying with a gentle smile on your face. Pure genuine, you didn't fawn over her like how the rest did, nor threw yourself under her feet as she walk pass by.

Everything you do was all voluntary that she didn't even have to use her charms to force you to obey.

Eventually, your obedience lead to Hancock trusting you completely. Becoming her right hand woman, whom she could trust Amazon Lily with. She know that you will never betray her with how much dedicated you are on serving her.

You were too kind. Whenever she looks out on the window of the castle, she would often see you helping out your fellow women with a huge smile on your face. Every requests thrown at your direction, you immediately agreed on, as if rejection is not on your vocabulary.

She knew by then, that she chosen the right person to trust on.

The first time you actually met a man, was when Hancock commanded you to stay back on the island as she sails away with her sisters and the elite warriors of the tribe.

"Snake Princess, why do I have stay here? I am confident in my abilities that I won't be considered as a hinder.."

You pleaded, carefully observing her reactions if ever you annoyed her with your words. To be near Hancock, means that you have to be careful not to anger her to avoid loosing her favor on you.

"You are not ready to sail on the Perfume Yuda yet. So use that strength on keeping this island safe until I return..."

Being often near the snake princess, gave you privilage to lead your fellow warriors whenever she and her sisters are not around. They listen to your instructions carefully and proceed to do their respective chores dedicatedly.

As you were given the task of protecting the island by Hancock herself, you took the initiative of scouting the jungle along side three other woman named Marguerite, Sweet Pea and Aphelandra.

"While we're here, should we perhaps hunt a beast for today's lunch?"

You asked the trio, hoping to bring a good feast for the warriors who scouted the other areas of the island, but before anyone could respond, you all notice smoke coming from the far side of the jungle. Wordlessly, you gave the women a commanding look before running off to the source with them following behind.

And that's how you met the strange man now called Luffy.

You found him beatened and unconcious with mushroom growing on his body. Not knowing his identity before hand, your pity for the injured had allowed him to enter the village.

Allowing Belladona and the rest of the women to tend his wounds, you and Marguerite provided on sewing new clothes identical to his previous tattered ones.

Marguerite embroidered floral patterns on the vest and you sewed a new pair of clean shorts.

Until the elder, Nyon revealed his identity of being a man.

"So this is what a man look like....?"

Unlike the rest of the women who all got defensive on his sudden outburst, you on the other hand could only continue to stare with curiosity.

Because you could clearly see his intentions. He was annoyed with how the rest wanted to pull his balls of gold, how feminine his clothes were and how tense he was when weapons pointed at his direction.

Yet you can see the desperation on his eyes. His desperation to leave the island, and return to his friends, atleast from what you heard him shout.

"Wait, stop...!"

You told the women to cease all actions but it was then, their arrows rained towards his cell, forcing himself to break out.

"He is not a threat!"

"(Name) all men who enters this island must be eliminated. That is the rules given by our ancestors that is upholded for centuries!"

Kikyo scolded you. Reminding you of where your loyalty lies. If your Empress ever finds out that a man entered the island under your supervision, you knew that you'll be the one paying for the consequences.

You feared to see the disappointment, Hancock would send you once she finds out. Hate to have suddenly betrayed her trust of getting fooled by a man whom you allowed to enter in the island. And you hate to disappoint her.

But the women are willing to help you out by pretending that this had never happened. Once you capture the man and kill him, this will all be a forgotten event. Boa Hancock will never know that a man soiled her land with his filt....right?

So with a conflicted thought, you went with the rest to pursue the strawhat wearing man.

Somehow, you found yourself being held hostaged by the same man. At first, you and the other Kuja warriors were all chasing after him through out the village, when all of sudden, he turned around to face you.

Looking through the crowd of women, his eyes landed on to your guarded ones, stretching his arm, he immediately wrapped them around you before running off.

He kidnapped you, atleast that what you thought as he made his way out to the village with you in his arms.

"I need that paper back..."

He was after the paper you found on his tattered clothes. You stared at him warily as your snake slithered from your shoulders to your arm, forming into your weapon. You hoped that you wouldn't be using it against him but you can't avoid taking that risk.

You stared at his impatient form, silently observing his every move. You can tell that he has no intentions of fighting you either.

"You mean this....? What does it do...?"

Curiosity over took your judgement as you pulled out the paper to his field of vision. Seeing the absolute relief on his face made you lower your guard a little. What was the importance of a small piece of paper with a name written on it?

"My friends and I got separated, I need this paper to see them again."

"Who...are you anyways...?"

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy. I'm a pirate..!"

He spoke with a boyish grin on his face that you couldn't help but reprocate. He kept his distance seeing how you weren't comfortable being near a man....yet. He spoke fondly of his crew.

Like how you often spoke about the Snake Princess.

"The Snake Princess rules this island, she's wary of outsiders like you, but once you see through the mask she often wore, you can see how caring she's really is...!"

"I see! You really like the boss of this place, huh..? She must be really nice then."

You didn't realized that you were talking rather eagerly like you knew him for years already until you hear his laughter. Feeling slightly embarrased that you lost your composure, you immediately went to defend yourself.

"D-don't get ahead of yourself, man! Just because I'm talking to you, doesn't mean I'll let you do what you want here... No men are allowed on this island!"

You were already getting attached to him, he doesn't seem to be a threat at all. You thought as you saved him from drowning after his attempt to make a raft.

And before you could even think about helping him escape, the defense warrior group finally found the two of you in which he decided to flee.

By the time, you caught up to him, you knew it was already too late. Hancock was already aware of his presence and had ordered for his capture after he crashed on her chambers when she was bathing.

"Where were you, (Name)?"

You couldn't face her, you could only stand behind her with her sister Marigold on your front.

"Forgive me, Snake Princess... I was out there trying to capture that man..."

Boa Hancock is a rather observative woman. She observes people who falls under her rules. She knows her worth and what she is capable of and use it for her advantage.

Imagine to her slight surprise, you weren't there to greet her return at the end of the red carpet. That was her first suspicion, you never failed to show up first whenever she returns to the Island after weeks on sea.

She got even more suspicious when every woman she came across to lied when she asked of your wherebouts. Their only replied was, you had to hunt down a troublesome monkey that involves the rest of the island's defense troupe.

So when this man appeared, she knew she has to demonstrate a taste of her power to all of the women on the island. You included. She is the Empress, and it is her duty to protect the women under her care. She ought to show an example of how truly vile men are.

You who were oblivious of how truly cruel the world is. Too kind and obedient for her liking yet she couldn't find the heart to tell you off. She wasn't blind to see the adoration on your face whenever she is nearby. Nor she was oblivious to how genuine your actions were. She can see the unwavering loyalty you shown for her.

However she wasn't expecting you to grow attached to Luffy.

She noticed how your behavior shifted to tense and discomfort seeing him fight in that arena.

"What is it, (Name)?"

"Nothing, my empress..."

She could applaud you keeping your emotions in check. However, she found herself staring at you in disbelief when your cool finally broke when Marguerite, Sweet Pea and Aphelandra step in, attempt to save Luffy.

"My apologies, but I was the one who brought him to the village. If anyone deserves to be punished, it should be me. Those three merely followed my orders."

"You know what happens to those who defy me, (Name). Why are you defending the guilty?"

Taking up the courage, you managed to look her directly in the eyes. Those cold and dull hues that holds deeper emotions within. With a deep breath, you gave her your usual smiles.

Your compassionate smile of purity.

"I was the one who allowed permission for him to enter the village, my empress. So I should be the one held accountable. Marguerite, Sweet Pea and Aphelandra did nothing wrong, so please allow me to take their punishment alone.

You pleaded them to be spared. Seeing how you are willing to take the risks of saving the girls including Luffy slightly wavered her resolved.

"....You disappointed me, (Name).."

But she is still the Empress, and she has to show her authority over the island. Knowing full well that her powers could not affect you in any way, she asked a few warriors to take you away. You who looked back at her with a dejected face.

The man wearing a strawhat look angry on your behalf. He fought bravely against her sisters, demanding to set you free as you were innocent from all of this.

"She did nothing wrong! She was only trying to save me!"

Hancock kept her composure as she watched the battle raged on. What was so special about this man that you were willingly to defend him.

You were just too kind that it slightly annoyed her. You should only reserve it to her and her people alone. Your kindness shouldn't be shown to filthy men who will only take advantage of you.

This was the first defiance you've ever done. Hancock gritted her teeth as memories flashed between her eyes, ransacking every single one, yet she didn't remember you showing any disobedience like this before.

Just when she was starting to treasure you.

Only when the battle was over, she finally understood. Luffy was kind in his own way. Is that why you defended him? Because you were aware that he was not like those men who once trespassed the island?

Luffy seems to know the secret she was so desperate of hiding, so does that means that you already know? What do you see in her now?

Only when she was finally alone in her room, was she began breaking down, silent tears fell down as she didn't want her sisters to hear. Having you by her side for years as her closest aide made her conflicted. She only kept you nearby was because of pity.

You loosing your mother at such a young age. Your mother who was apart of her crew, died at sea because of her warrior pride to protect the rest. It was by guilt, your mother's death at her ship is what made her take you under her wing.

She watched you grow up into a formidable warrior serving her with nothing but pure genuine adoration. It was nothing like the lust thrown to her way by both genders whenever she was present.

It was a gaze of a child with innocent admiration. You look up to her as a person and not just someone with otherworldy beauty.

Which is why she didn't let you join her crew. Giving excuses that you weren't strong enough to travel the seas on her ship. She didn't want you to see how vicious and filthy this world truly is. Nor for people to take advantage of your kindness.

What will happen if you knew the truth? It was her selfishness that killed your mother. Her selfish orders is what caused your mother to loose her life. Will you still have the same look on your face if you ever find out her slave mark? Or are you already aware of it?

Knowing you for years, no. You would never look at her differently even after she told you her secret. But the truth? It was because of her that you grew up without your mother's tender love and care.

But even so, she gave in with her fears. Through out the years, even she tried hard to push you away with her cold atittude, you still managed to find a place in her heart.

You were patient with her. Serving her with a bright smile that herself couldn't help but grew fond of. You tolerate her bratty attitude and beauty even when she knew that didn't have any affect on you. Only you were the one who can see through her lies and stayed.

But Hancock is a selfish woman, she was drawn to your warmth that she decided to keep you close, Because she was selfish, she only wants to keep your kindness to herself.

Because being around you, she can be a regular person that people never fawn on. Not like a luxurious item that people wanted to have, but a person who has her own feelings and wants.

All she hope is that you would forgive her like how you always do.

#luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece x reader #one piece #boa hancock #amazon lily #Kuja Reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #monkey d. luffy x reader #female reader #one piece x female reader #luffy x female reader #boa hancock x reader

273 notes · View notes

staridust · 22 days

Text

“All’s fair in love and war!”

“ What a better way to celebrate a birthday than with a fun game of laser tag? It’s a party under the ultraviolet lights, and Jack and Artemis are ready to be the best team on the field! There’s nothing that can separate them, but uh… Jack? Why is your vest red? ”

Catch another glowing special episode of Sunnyverse on March 9th, Saturday morning at 9:30/8:30 central, and don’t forget to say Happy Birthday, Artemis! ★

★ DO NOT USE/REPOST WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. NO MINORS.

—

Hey space crew! Thanks for opening the captain’s log. ★

Man, it’s been a while since a post, yeah? I hit that classic burnout stage. Got lost in the universe burnout for a long while and couldn’t draw much for months. I am alright, but what a crash >>.

This drawing was started on 1/21 and was supposed to come out for my birthday (1/23). I turned 22! Finally big big goober age and still very silly! ☆ But uh, I missed that deadline, haha. I spent a good extra 2 months on it by accident. Working on and off over the course of multiple days, working in general, wehhhhhhah.

Told myself to get it done by Artie’s birthday (3/9) too, and then well, missed that too! Sheeeesh. But it’s done now and I quite enjoy the outcome for what it’s worth. I hope you all do too!

Artie’s hair took so long to shade… I want to shave them bald. Jk. Partially…

—

This “episode” focuses on well, a laser tag party! Jack isn’t the type to be extra competitive usually, but he was over the sun excited to be on the same team as Artemis. The two had a game plan: blue team will reign supreme! Watch my back! <3

Except for when the game started, Jack’s vest lit up in the enemies color. Accidental traitor. Maybe he could ask the referees to pause the game so he could swap— oh! Artie just zapped him and ran off.

Suddenly, Jack is extremely good at this game.

(advertising works as episode promotions is very fun. :3)

—

🔆 Click here for Jack’s birthday drawing that I did a few months ago!

Non-dialogue version.

Again, do not use my works or OCs for anything without asking for my consent directly. This includes reuploads to other websites, pfp’s, or collages/edits of any kind. (or at least let me see the edit if it’s fire)

#sunny day jack #swwsdj #sdjsunlight #sunny day jack au #sdjsunnyverse #sunny time town #we are so back #really proud of how I drew Jack #i want to inhale colorful things

152 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

Note

WIBTA for asking my SO to do something that they have trauma around?

I don't know when this will be posted but as of writing we are about 2 weeks post valentines day. Ages and genders irrelevant, we're in our 20s and queer.

So I have not been with Jordan long, but we knew each out for a few months as friends before we got together, and have been close pretty much all of the time we've known each other. This is to say, I know them pretty well despite us not actually having been dating that long.

Because we were already friends I knew going into the relationship, without Jordan specifically saying anything, that they had plans on Valentines day. They got tickets to a concert I wasn't interested in a decent amount of time before we got together.

Obviously, not an issue in the slightest, and neither of us brought up anything regarding Valentines day. It was a week day, so I was working all day, and then the time of the concert meant there was no possibility of meeting up after, just not meant to be this year. I thought we were in the same boat just silently agreeing that the timing wasn't right but that it wasn't a big enough deal to even be worth bringing up, especially in such a new relationship.

Some backstory on me: I'm a hopeless romantic and have a kind of cute aesthetic? I like dressing in bright colours, and some of my favourite outfits have prints of hearts, flowers, and cherries. Needless to say I really enjoy the aesthetic of Valentines day, and I've always kind of fantasised about being able to spend it with someone I have romantic feelings for. I've only had two romantic relationships before this and the first one only lasted 6 months and didn't make it to Valentines day, and in the second we both contracted the same bug and were horribly sick throughout February.

Obviously I don't think you should only do things for your SO on Valentines day, but I think it would be fun to have the chance to really get into it! In the past I've organised Valentines day events with my other single friends where we dress in pink and have heart shaped foods etc and those have been great, but haven't quite satisfied my desire to have a Romantic Valentines.

So, despite the fact that my SO was busy, I wanted to do a little something. I do digital art, so when I got home from work I drew a pun Valentines card featuring Jordan's favourite character. It took a few hours and I was pretty proud of how it came out. I knew they were at the concert still, but I texted it to them, so they could see it after.

They responded that night and their first message was just "oh." I've known Jordan long enough that i read the tone to be "oh, now I to have a conversation I didn't want to have." They went on to explain that they associate Valentines day with some past trauma. I won't give any details here, but the tone of the conversation was that they don't celebrate Valentines day because of their trauma, and this seemed like a very final stance.

Now. I don't think I'm TA for drawing the art and sending it, this had never been brought up before, so I didn't know I was crossing a boundary.

I do think Jordan is slightly TA for not saying anything about my art that I worked hard on, but only slightly bc I assume the trauma response just kind of took over.

But my question is, WIBTA if I asked my SO to celebrate Valentines day with me in future even though it's something they have trauma around?

I'm not planning to force them or anything and it doesn't even have to be in the next few years, but thinking long term it feels really gloomy to me to have to miss out on Valentines forever when my SO could be making new memories with me so that mentions of the holiday are less painful.

I don't expect them to just "get over" it magically or anything but I want to ask if it's something they'd possibly want to work up to? I swear I'm not trying to be dismissive their response is fully valid and I don't want to imply my silly fantasies are more important than their traumatic reality I just want to know if this would be an asshole move or not.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

121 notes · View notes

die-pink-maus · 4 months

Text

A Weekend in Vienna 🇦🇹

While vacationing in Germany, Chantelle’s (OC) best friend, Adrian (also an OC), books an impromptu trip to Vienna to visit extended family. Chantelle decides to join her for the last few days of her trip, where she meets an interesting friend of Adrian’s family who offers to show the two around the city for the weekend🤭

TW: Pretty much none, not for this chapter anyway, but things will get 🌶️spicy🌶️ in the next parts. Also there is an age gap between OC and König, she is 25 and he is about 36-37.

CW: FemOCs, female pronouns used, while both characters are technically OCs please feel free to imagine them however you’d like, ultimately the main character is the reader, I just didn’t want to use “Y/N” so I gave them names 🙈

Word Count: 1,516

*DISCLAIMER*

This is my first time EVER writing any kind of fan fiction so please go easy on me 😭 if you like where things are going, likes and reblogs would be greatly appreciated! If you’d like to see anything in particular in the next part or part(s), I’d love to hear it!

This version of König is based on the above interpretation drawn by @lettaniko (I hope you don’t mind me using it! I absolutely love this drawing it’s perfect! 🫶🏼)

I like a nice build up to the smut so if you like to get right into it this is probably not going to be for you…but if you can wait I it out I promise it’ll be worth it 😂

Enjoy! 💋

7:30am. There’s approximately 30 minutes before my train departs for Vienna, and I still haven’t reached the train station yet. I scrambled as I dashed out of my hotel room, hoping I’d left the place in a somewhat decent state and I hadn’t forgotten anything valuable as got into the elevator. I’ve been exploring Munich for the past two weeks and I’ve been having the absolute time of my life. Although traveling alone can be quite scary, oddly enough, I’ve never felt more at home. Munich is such a vibrant city, filled with all kinds of exciting things to do and I’ve met so many incredible people, it’s definitely been the experience of a lifetime. To say that I am not looking forward to going back home to Vancouver would be an understatement, but all good things must come to an end. I’d spent about a year and a half learning to speak German, and promised myself that I would plan a trip in celebration of achieving fluency, so here I am! Now, Vienna wasn’t initially on my list of places to visit when I decided to come to Germany, but my best friend, Adrian, ended up booking a spur of the moment flight last week to visit extended family in Austria and suggested I come hangout with her during the last few days of my trip. Seeing as its only a 3-4hr train ride from Munich, I figured why the hell not! I’ve heard Vienna is beautiful, and Im at all not opposed to exploring another city.

Upon arrival at the train station in Vienna I was greeted by Arian, excitedly jumping up and down while holding up a large white sign that read “Willkommen in Wien, Schlampe!” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, laughing as I got off the train and ran over to her, tackling her in a tight embrace as she laughed hysterically. “Did you have to let the whole station know that I’m a bitch or…?”

“Honestly, they should’ve known the moment they saw you.” She said jokingly. “How was the ride over?” She asked.

“Amazing, I haven’t slept that well in years. It also didn’t feel like a 4 hour train ride.”

“Trains in out here are quite quick so I wouldn’t be surprised if it somehow took less time. They definitely shit on the ones we have back home.”

“Oh for sure.” I agreed as we began walking over to the car.

“So a family friend of ours just came back from a mission in the states, he’s in the military bee tee dubs —“

“Yeah kinda pieced that together when you said ‘mission’.” I chuckled.

“I don’t drive out here so he’s gonna give us a ride back to my aunts, cool?”

“Sounds good.”

“He’s also a lot more familiar with Vienna than I am, so he offered to show us around a bit later on this evening.” Aw how nice of him. Knowing Adrian, the first place she’ll want to be taken to is the nearest bar, that girl can drink! If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time in Germany, and my 10 years of friendship with Adrian, it’s that Europeans love their liquor. There are people from all parts of Europe in Germany and that’s one thing that remains quite consistent across the board. I also love my liquor, which is probably why I ended up fitting in so well.

We finally arrived at the car and opened the trunk to begin loading all of my luggage inside. I’d brought a small carryon suitcase, a duffle bag, as well as a large suitcase that was full of clothes I’d over packed from home, and a bunch of other clothes and souvenirs I’d bought in Munich. “Okay this one’s gonna be a tad heavy.” I warned as Adrian grabbed hold of the handle on the top. I reached forward to try to help her lift, but neither of us could manage the weight. “I got it.” His voice was low, but gentle. He had an accent, but it wasn’t overwhelming or harsh, nor did it make anything he said hard to understand. I wasn’t expecting to see the person I saw when I’d finally caught a glimpse of him…I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man like this in my entire life. Adrian and I stepped back as he grabbed hold of the suitcase, lifting it with absolute ease, as if it were light as a feather. His arm muscles bulged within the confines of his olive green long sleeved shirt as he tossed the suitcase inside the trunk. My heart began to race, It felt as if I was watching him move in slow motion. “Easy peasy.” He smirked as he turned around and looked down at me, his dazzling dark blue eyes awash with amusement at Adrian and I’s prior struggle. Jesus Christ…This man is an absolute unit. He’s gotta be at least 6 foot 7, if not taller. He’s incredibly easy on the eyes in a rough and rugged kinda way — a nice low trimmed beard, medium length dark brown hair, and a smile that is captivatingly dangerous to say the least. His presence alone exudes a confidence that causes me to grow weak in the knees. “I’m König,” he smiled knowingly as he stretched his hand out towards me. I know I’m definitely not the first woman to look at him the way I am. Even though I’m trying to keep my composure, it’s very clear that he can see right through it. “And you must be Chantelle?” He asked, eyes slowly roaming about my frame from head to toe. He bites his lip slightly as they return to my gaze, suggesting so much without saying any words at all. “I — yes.” I blushed, sheepishly brushing my hair behind my ear as I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He said. “Oh yeah, König Chantelle, Chantelle König.” Adrian yelled from the backseat. He laughed and shook his head as he closed the trunk.

We arrived at Adrian’s aunts house about 45 minutes later. König helped us load all of my things into the foyer before letting us know he’d be coming back in a few hours to take us out to this bar that he and a few of his buddies on his task force frequent whenever they’re home. I’ve been thinking about him ever since he left — those mysterious blue eyes, the way he slightly bites his lower lip just before laughing at something ridiculous Adrian has said, the way his arm muscles swell beneath his shirt with the slightest movement…God, he’s sexy. I could think of a million different ways I’d want him to ruin me. The thought alone of being trapped beneath his large brawny frame writhing in pleasure as he thrusts into me over and over has me clenching around nothing. Though I’m not usually one for a one time fling, I have a feeling he’d be able to convince me. “So, you wanna tell me what all of that was about?” Adrian asked as she helped me settle into the guest room. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Since when are you a shy girl?” She giggled. Sigh. I figured she was referencing my unusual silence during the car ride over here. “He’s hot as fuck but I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Ugh!” I groaned as I covered my face with a pillow. She’s right. I’m not very easily intimidated. I’m quite the confident woman and I ensure everyone in the room knows it, but this was different. Almost as if our energies were fighting for dominance, and mine didn’t stand a chance. “Hey if it’s any consolation, my jaw dropped the first time I saw him without his mask too.” Mask?

“Mask?” I asked.

“Yes…the last time I was here he was on base training recruits, so I’d see him often in full tactical gear. He’s a snipper, so he wears a mask to hide his face in the field. I mean, that was hot too, but in a Ghostface kinda way”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the comparison, but I was curious to see what his entire ensemble looked like. “How old is he?” I asked.

“I think he’s in his mid to late 30s? I’m honestly not too sure, and it doesn’t matter to me either way.” She winked. “I was sensing some unspoken vibes between the two of you in the car though. Don’t think I didn’t see both of you stealing glances at each other every now and then.” She smirked.

“Stop,” I scoffed. “A man like that is definitely not single, and even if he is…I don’t know” I blushed. “I didn’t see him looking at me..”

“K well I see everything, he definitely likes what he sees, and clearly the feeling is mutual on your end as well. Looks like tonight will be interesting.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen, Adrian.” I laughed as I rolled my eyes. Nothing’s gonna happen…right?

PART II 👉🏽 A Weekend In Vienna 🇦🇹: PART II

PART III 👉🏽 A Weekend In Vienna 🇦🇹: PART III

169 notes · View notes

jacarandaaaas · 2 months

Text

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIRABEL✨🦋💘

Mirabel my beloved! 💘💫

This was very inspired by the river scene because that scene is so gorgeous it leaves me stunned every time! As usual her outfit is a pain to draw but worth it! Ignore the botched butterflies! this drawing took ages😭🙏 I kinda went ham with the background and sparkles but I had to!! I can’t draw Encanto fanart without sparkles I’m sorry 😭 anyways happy birthday to best girl she deserves to dance with sparkly butterflies!

#encanto #encanto disney #disneys encanto #mirabel madrigal #mirabel encanto #disney’s encanto #encanto fanart #jacarandaaaaasart #mirabel madrigal fanart #madrigal birthdays #mirabel appreciation #mirabel my beloved #I can’t believe I finished this on time #yayy mirabel birthday!!

122 notes · View notes

sailor-aviator · 3 months

Text

Hanging By a Moment: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Taking place directly after the events of "Don't Hang'em Til Noon," this series follows more of Jake and Scout as they traverse life in the New Mexico territories. Isaac Cassidy's posse is still hanging about, stirring up trouble in the name of their fallen leader. Additionally, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and your brother, Benjamin, have established rights to a gold mine that's now drawing in more and more unsavory characters. Will you have what it takes to survive the growing danger?

Trigger Warnings: Talk of mining, Talk of gold, Mentions of blood, Mentions of Isaac Cassidy, Feelings of being watched, Fluff, Romance, like a disgusting amount of flirting and pining, idiots in love. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 3.0k

Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist 1 || Playlist 2 || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The air inside the assembly hall was heavy with rapt attention as the townsfolk fixed their gazes upon the three men on stage. You noticed Maverick shifting ever so slightly on his feet, a show of nerves that seemed so out of character for the man. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell may be the mayor, but he was a quiet man - a characteristic you had been told was earned with age and years of responsibility thrust upon him. His lips twitched in a nervous smile that didn’t go unnoticed by you as his eyes flickered across the crowd, meeting your own before flitting away to look at someone else.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why we’ve asked you to gather here today,” he said finally, tone clear and even, showing no hint of the nerves he was feeling in the moment. He took a half step back, angling his body to face the unknown man at his side. Your eyes shifted to the right to study him.

He was a tall man with a slim build that hinted at a muscular physique in his youth. Wrinkles littered his face much like Maverick and Iceman’s, though his hair was a stark white in comparison to Maverick’s graying black. His face was stern but not unkind, the look of a man who meant business but who might also have fun at your expense. His demeanor was relaxed as his eyes flickered to Maverick’s before facing back forward.

“Allow me to introduce a long-time friend of mine that’s been helping us Benjamin and myself out with our little project,” Maverick began again, hand raised towards the stranger. “This here is Ron Kerner. Some of you might recognize him from way back in the day before he set up shop in San Francisco. He’s been kind enough to make his way here to help us set up shop.”

“Set up shop for what, Maverick?” Someone hollered out, causing a wave of murmured agreement to ripple through the crowd.

“Right,” he sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck, a frown pulling on his lips. “You know everything I do is to try and do right by the good people of this town. I wouldn’t have pursued this if I didn’t think it was something worth doing, you all know that.”

“Get on with it!”

Several murmurs of agreement floated around the crowd, and Maverick grimaced, eyes shifting towards Benjamin for assistance. Benjamin stood up a little taller, walking to stand next to the older man and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he addressed the crowd.

“What Maverick is trying to say,” he began, “is that there is an investment opportunity. An opportunity for jobs and a boost to our fine town’s economy. It’s hit several towns and areas in the west, drawing more and more people with each passing day. It is the thing which all men seek. Ladies and gentlemen, I mean to say that there is gold here in Maverick.”

The entire assembly hall broke into excited chattering, and your eyebrows shot up onto your forehead. Birdie drew in an excited breath as she clutched at your arm, her other clutching Bunny’s.

“Gold?” She murmured, eyes darting excitedly to you as she squirmed in her seat. “That’s good news right?”

You weren’t so sure. Gold was a risky business at the best of times, and from the mutterings you had managed to overhear at Hondo’s store the past couple of weeks, the local farmers were worried that it was shaping up to be another exceptionally dry summer. The last few summers had been mild, from the sounds of it, but the older men in town were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Jake and the other Daggers had told you stories about growing up with the last major drought that had occurred, eyes looking towards a distant past that spoke of hunger and loss.

“Everyone, please!” Benjamin called out, voice barely being heard above the crowd. He raised his hands high to try and draw attention to himself, but let them drop in defeat when the noise only grew louder. A shrill whistle echoed through the room, several people wincing at the intrusive noise as all eyes turned to the far corner where Sheriff Kazansky leaned against the wall. He let his fingers drop from his lips as he crossed his arms, settling back with an unamused scowl towards the people gathered.

“The sooner you let the man talk,” he groused, “the sooner your questions can be answered. It’s like you folks ain’t never heard of gold before for pete’s sake.”

The crowd slowly turned back around, looking much like a giant group of reprimanded children. A smile tugged on your lips as you caught Ice’s gaze from across the room. His scowl shifted into a warm smile as he looked at you, shooting you a quick wink before nodding back towards the stage. You bowed your head before adhering to his silent request, catching Benjamin’s thankful smile towards the older man.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” he murmured. “As I was saying, yes. Gold has been found in the area, and with Mr. Kerner’s help, we’ve been able to set up mining operations outside of town and establish rights to the gold in the area. Those of you who wish to try your luck at panning or mining will need to first apply for a permit. You can do so by seeing me or Maverick here, and we can help you with the paperwork.”

You tuned out the rest, allowing your thoughts to wander as your brother droned on and answered questions from the crowd. You had heard talk about the shady characters that a gold rush tended to attract, the types of crimes they committed. The town of Maverick wasn’t crime free, you knew that better than anyone, but there was an unspoken rule amongst the people you called neighbors: protect your own.

You had gained the trust of the locals only a month prior when you had saved Jake from swinging from the gallows - something that was more for your benefit than for theirs, but it had won you their respect and gratitude nonetheless.

So lost in thought, you hadn’t noticed when you had twisted around to look at the outlaw in question, your brow furrowed into a faraway glare that had him raising an eyebrow at you. You snapped out of it when he made his way past the few people standing in the aisle of the packed assembly hall, crouching down beside you. The smell of clean linen and faint tobacco permeated the surrounding air, and you let out a quiet hum at the familiar smell.

“Normally I know what you’re glaring at me for, honey girl,” he whispered, a hand coming up to rest on the back of your chair as he shot you a curious look, smirk barely contained. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to clue me in on this one.”

You shook your head, tearing your eyes away from him to look back up at the stage.

“I wasn’t meaning to,” you confessed, lips pulling back into a grimace.

“What’s eatin’ away at you?”

“Perhaps you just have that effect on me,” you challenged with a smirk, sparing him a glance. A lascivious grin spread across his face as he leaned in closer.

“I think I have a lot of effects on you, pretty girl,” he teased, running his eyes up and down your figure, causing your cheeks to heat with anticipation. Birdie cleared her throat, drawing both of your attentions to her. She raised an eyebrow at the two of you before turning her gaze pointedly to the surrounding crowd. Your cheeks were heated for a different reason this time, and you noticed Jake’s cheeks dusted a light pink as well when you peered at him.

“Sorry, miss,” Jake murmured, shooting her an apologetic smile before looking back at you with a shameless wink. You rolled your eyes, staring back at the stage pointedly. Jake stood, shifting his weight onto the foot closest to you, but making no move to leave his new spot. You could feel the eyes on you two, most of them coming from the direction of a certain group of girls. You paid them no mind, allowing your thoughts to wander back to the dangers of allowing gold mining within the town of Maverick.

Would it boost the local economy? Most assuredly. Was that worth the shady characters that would come crawling in from whichever city they left behind? That remained to be seen. The violence and crime was already something you had learned to live with, to deal with on your own even, but that familiarity had come at a price, and your fingers itched with the phantom blood you could still feel dripping from the tips, Isaac Cassidy’s pitch black eyes still boring into you from beyond the grave.

It startled you when people began to move around you, voices ringing out as the townfolk made to leave. A hand appeared in your line of sight, and you looked up to see Jake giving you a soft smile as he waited for you to collect yourself. Shoving aside the sick feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach, you took his hand, feeling an instant sense of release to know that he was still safe, still with you.

“I have to talk to your brother about some things,” he told you, pulling you to your feet gently. “Wait for me by the door? It shouldn’t take but a minute.”

“I’ll be counting,” you told him, a teasing lilt to your tone as you squeezed his hand. He chuckled, eyes sparkling with what you could only describe as adoration. His hand lingered in yours for a moment longer before finally letting go, eyes never leaving you as he backed up towards the stage. You chuckled, shaking your head, only turning when Birdie brushed up against you.

“You’ve got that man wrapped around your little finger,” she giggled. You raised an eyebrow at her, eyes darting to Bunny who gave you a knowing look.

“Don’t even try to argue,” the saloon girl said with a roll of her eyes. “Everyone here knows it. Even those girls who haven’t stopped glaring at you since Seresin came sauntering down the aisle.”

She gestured behind her, and sure enough, the group of girls were shooting you daggers as they whispered amongst each other. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead turning back to your friends.

“I don’t know what you two are talking about,” you retorted, clasping your hands in front of you as the three of you began up the aisle. Birdie let out a rather indignant and unladylike squawk at your words, eyes growing wide in protest.

“You can’t be serious!” She exclaimed. You pursed your lips, eyes darting to the back wall.

“I don’t know what you’re accusing me of,” you began, a smile tugging on your lips, “but if I’m guilty, then so are the two of you.”

“Can we walk you two home?”

Bob stopped in front of your little group, Bradley not far behind him, and you took a step back to gesture at your two friends.

“By all means, gentlemen,” you smiled, earning a pair of matching glares from your friends.

“This isn’t over!” Birdie hissed as Bradley laid a gentle hand on the small of her back just as Bob offered his arm to Bunny. Both girls gave you pointed looks before allowing themselves to be led out of the building, the last of the chatter in the entrance hall leaving with them.

It had been fifteen minutes, and you were beginning to grow impatient. Shooting a glare at one of the doors leading into the assembly hall, you could hear the group of men erupting into laughter. You huffed, pacing back and forth in front of the entryway. What on earth could they possibly be talking about?

“I need some air,” you muttered to yourself, the leftover heat from so many bodies gathered in one space causing your head to feel light. You pushed the door open, sighing in relief as the cool, night air engulfed you. The sweat clinging to your skin added another layer of relief as you stood in the middle of the street, head leaned back and eyes closed.

Soon, the summertime would be here again, and you grimaced at the thought of the sticky heat that would cling to you with little to no relief available. You truly hated the heat.

You allowed yourself to relax in your moment of solitude, arms stretched wide as you twirled in the dirt road, a smile once again gracing your face. Life out in the west had started rough for you, no one could argue that, but you had managed to survive and even find a place for yourself here with the help of your newfound loved ones. Of course, there had been a rough patch in the middle there, but you had overcome it, coming out stronger in the end and even earning yourself a little nickname from the locals: Priest.

“I don’t get it,” you had frowned, staring at the barmaid in front of you. Bunny let out a sigh as she placed the mug down, placing both hands on the bar as she stared at you.

“It’s because of the way you made Isaac confess to everything,” she explained, cocking her head to the side. “And the way you brought him to his knees, begging for mercy.”

“He didn’t beg for mercy,” you scowled. “Who’s saying that? That’s not true at all!”

“It doesn’t matter,” the other girl had sighed. “That’s what story is making the rounds, and that’s the one that’s gonna stick, Scout. Just let it happen because it’s going to whether you approve of it or not.”

You still thought it was silly, quite frankly, but you had let it go. You had even gotten better at holding back your eye rolls every time you heard someone refer to you with that nickname.

An odd feeling overcame you, pulling you back into the current moment. Your arms dropped down to your sides as you opened your eyes, gaze flickering around the empty streets before landing on a figure hiding in the shadows just two streets down. Your heart stopped at the unexpected sight, eyes narrowing to try and make out who it was. He was a man of average height, and you could just barely make out the few features on his bearded face. You were sure you recognized the man who stood there watching you. His face was unreadable, intensely so as he stared at you, hands in his pockets. Before you could call out to him, the door to city hall opened behind you and you turned with a jump.

Jake trotted down the few stairs, a scowl on his face as he took in the sight of you alone.

“I thought I told you to wait for me by the entrance?” He asked, stopping in front of you with his hands on his hips.

“I did,” you replied, rolling your eyes with a matching scowl. “That was twenty minutes ago.”

A sheepish look crossed over his face, and he hunched his shoulders as he looked at you.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered. “We lost track of the time.”

You hummed, turning your gaze back down the street towards where the man had been standing, only now he was gone. You frowned, brow pinching as you tried to think of where you knew him from.

“What is it?” Jake asked, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. You shook your head.

“It’s nothing,” you sighed, placing your arms around his shoulders as he swayed the two of you in place. “Just thought I saw something.”

“Your eyes must be playing tricks on you,” he murmured, leaning forward to rest his head against yours. He gave you a suggestive smirk. “You must be tired. We should get you back home and in bed.”

“I feel that it’s in my best interest to inform you that I will be going to bed alone tonight,” you told him, earning a pout from the blond.

“Haven’t you ever heard that doing things together is much more fun than doing things by yourself?” He retorted.

“And haven’t you ever heard of not taking advantage of a lady?” You shot back, an eyebrow raised at him. He tossed his head back into a cackle, leaning back forward with a grin.

“Honey girl, you and I both know that you take advantage of me plenty,” he chuckled, rubbing his nose against yours.

“I do no such thing!” You argued, pouting up at him. He huffed a laugh before placing a brief kiss against your lips.

“Sure you don’t,” he responded, the grin never leaving his face. “So what would you call the other day when I was working hard on your brother’s ranch and you practically tackled me in the barn to-”

“Jacob Seresin, don’t you dare finish that sentence,” you scowled. His grin grew impossibly larger as he squeezed you tighter against him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, green eyes growing soft as they took you in. One of his hands ran up your side and stopped to cup your cheek, thumb running gently over the skin there. You basked in the attention he showed you, eyes fluttering shut as you took the time to absorb the moment.

“Jake?”

“Yes, honey girl?”

“Hurry up and propose to me,” you stated, eyes opening to find his soft expression mix with one of utter amusement.

“Can’t rush these things, darlin’,” he said, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Want it to be perfect for you.”

You let out a sigh, pursing your lips in impatience. Jake chuckled at your put out expression, pulling away just enough to direct you towards the way home.

“All in good time, honey girl,” he rasped, squeezing your hip. “All in good time.”

A/N: And we're back with the DPU! Friendly reminder that I am doing away with my tag list and using my side blog: @sailoraviator-library for update notifications! Just follow that blog and turn on post notifications if you'd like to be notified of all updates! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I also post updates on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator if you'd like to check me out there as well. Until next time!

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun hangman

115 notes · View notes