#I don't fully know what to expect. word on the streets is that it might make me extra horny. which would be funny

[sergle]

Btw. b. t. w. there are a couple other meds I’ve been sniffing at that I’m gonna ask my doc about switching to. but I’m probably going to bat for bupropion (Wellbutrin) DO ANY OF YALL... currently use it / have positive experiences w it. or mild warnings. no bitching about it is allowed until/unless I use it and hate it, bc otherwise you will frighten me

[strwberri-milk]

Hii could I request hcs on what the L&DS men would do if they saw someone hurt mc? Thxx💕

combined these!!

Zayne doesn't want to get violent but the look in his eye says otherwise. He's not exactly unused to combat, but he does feel conflicted to an extent because of the whole being a doctor thing. Rather than fight he's going to remove you from the situation, fully ignoring the person who hurt you.

If they continue to try and egg you on, trying to see if you'll take the bait he'll confront the person directly. Just a flash of his Evol crawling up his arm matched with his harsh gaze is enough to scare anybody off, never mind some random guy off the street who felt entitled to your time. He doesn't want to escalate things but he's more than happy to if he thinks he needs to.

If someone was just rude to you he does still remove you from the situation, but he also has no problem putting them in their place. His insults don't really sound like insults but they're definitely words that really stick with that person, making them think twice before opening their mouth ever again.

Xavier is dangerously close to using his sword, the weapon at his side. You have to take his arm in yours, making sure he doesn't accidentally murder someone because of whatever it was they did to you.

They'll immediately back off, Xavier staring them down to make sure they stay away from you. He doesn't want them to think that they can get away with doing something like that though so rather than using his weapon he'll grab them by their arm, asking them what they thought they were doing. They're practically shitting themselves as they beg for an apology but he tells them that if they ever come near you again it'll be the last time they breathe.

If they were just rude he's also. Still dangerously close to pulling out his sword. He doesn't really have much to say other than some threat that if they say something like that to you again he won't be kind enough to give them the ability to run. As far as he's concerned he's already warned them - they should have learned their lesson.

POV you listened to Rafayel's tender moment

Rafayel does not care if he has to hurt someone to make sure you're safe. He's got great control over his Evol and he likes making people squirm as he makes flames crawl up their arm. Your assailant is, understandably, panicked from the attack, thinking they're going to catch fire.

They think it might have been better to have died in the fire considering how downright murderous Rafayel looks, telling them to fuck off before he removes their ability to choose how from them. Needless to say if he ever sees them ever again he will make it known that he remembers what they did. It doesn't matter whether they hurt you or were just rude to you - he's going to take them out for the sin of not worshipping the ground you walk on.

Sylus didn't think someone would be ballsy enough to attack you, knowing that you're his when you're in the N109 zone. You didn't like throwing his name around all the time because it made you feel like you were bragging, which is how you ended up in the current predicament.

He'll grab them first, telling them that he didn't realise people that stupid managed to stay alive for so long before giving them a taste of his right hook. He casually flicks his wrist as they writhe in pain, telling them to expect another visit later that day for daring to touch what's his.

If they were just rude to you he's going to insult them something awful. He's condescending, barely looking at them as he berates them for their idiocy. If they try to walk away, thinking they don't want to deal with him he'd be more than happy to grab them and pull them back to continue his lecture, wanting to get it through their thick skull that this absolutely will not fly with him. They're going to go home and cry for days - Sylus has a very sharp tongue.

[simphornies]

Breathtaking [Vox x Secretary! Reader] part 2 (NSFW)

A/N: This honestly took a little bit longer than I expected. Apologies!

Warnings: cunninglingus, creampie, implied bondage

Word count: 3.5k (3,500)

!MINORS DNI!

You've hit a year with VoxTek working as Vox's personal secretary. Though, you're confident your role in the company will change considering you are now his current romantic interest. You form a bond with the other Vees over time. With the exclusion of Vox, Velvette and Valentino brief you on Vox's little secrets he'd most definitely not want you to find out about yet.

With a lot of convincing and a tad bit of peer pressure from Valentino, you sneak into Vox's bedroom at night while he stayed up working against your advices. You cuddle up into his pillow, his scent lingering. You knew it was going to be a while until he walks in. You scroll through your phone, given to you courtesy of Vox, watching anything he starred in today.

It wasn't long for you to fall asleep, phone in hand. You had dozed off to the sound of his voice.

"Fucking hell..." Vox stretched his arms, "I'm not going to hear the end of it from Y/N tomorrow." He mumbled to himself. It was way too late for him to finally go to sleep. He was up and with a quick clip of Alastor roaming around the streets a little bit too close to his building, he went into a fit of rage. He had to reboot himself. Twice.

It was so late that the usual servants opening his door weren't even there anymore. He opens his door, aimlessly scrolling on his phone. When he looks up he sees you sleeping on his bed. Cuddled up on his pillow. You. On his pillow. Vox paused. Dead in his tracks. His grasp on the doorknob slips past his fingertips. He might have to reboot himself again.

Who knows how long he stood there in disbelief. He ended up locking the door behind him when he finally came to his senses. So nobody walks in. Specifically Valentino.

He sat beside your sleeping figure. The weight of him sitting down stirred you awake. You rub your eyes, adjusting to the light emitting from him. He looks down at you, capturing this very moment in his mind forever. There you laid, in his bed, wearing a nightgown that was almost see-through. So close to being see-through that you laying there innocently was such a tease to him and the fact that all you had to was exist rendered him speechless.

"Vox?" You spoke, voice in a hushed tone. "It's late...I told you." You groaned, choosing sleep over lecturing him. "Mmmm. Ne'ermind...Lay down. Go to sleep." You pat on the empty space next to you.

He lays down on his back where you patting, leaving an awkward gap between both of you. A disappointed huff escaped your lips. You scoot closer, laying your head on his chest. "G'night." And just like that you were fast asleep, soft snores coming from you. He soon dozed off, his arm wrapping around you.

The next day came and the two of you were now spooning. He hugged you tight, the warmth radiating from you giving him a new sense of comfort. He could get used to this.

You lean back into him more, enjoying the attention you received. "Mornin' Vox." You yawned, stretching out your limbs. You pushed back into him, wanting to be even closer than you already were.

"Why don't I just move you into my room." He says in a rare soft tone, "I'd want to wake up to you everyday."

"Vox?"

He hummed in response, you turn your head to face him. His eyes were still shut. "Yes, dear?"

"Morning wood." You calmly state, feeling the bump behind your ass.

Vox had barely the energy to fully comprehend the situation, though he did start to grind against your body. You move his arms off of you, turning to face him now, "Vox~" You purred, "Wake up. Let me help you."

He finally opens his eyes after a big stretch and yawn, "Hmm?" He groggily asked, "What--Oh! Ohhhh! Oh fuck." The realization hit him making him laugh nervously, "Yeah. I'm sorry. I promised myself to hold back on that but you're just so warm and-"

You laid next to him and in his eyes it was the most seductive post ever. "Let me repeat myself, sir~" You purred, "Do you need assistance?"

With no hesitation he throws himself on top of you, "You are just," He plants a kiss on your cheek, "Absolutely." Another kiss on the other side, "Stunning." He crashes his lips on yours, his tongue slipping out of his screen. He couldn't stay still. His hands roamed all over your body, you feel how gentle he's being with his claws. The feeling of them lightly grazing your skin sent shiver throughout your entire body.

He pulls himself off of you, trailing his tongue down to your neck and collarbone. His wandering hands had lifted your nightgown, allowing him access to everything underneath. He pulled your underwear down, revealing the wet dripping mess you created.

"You're ready, huh?" He grins up at you, his tongue licking your slits. You squirm with pleasure, muffling your moans into his pillow.

"Ah ah ah~" He threw the pillow away from your reach, "I want to hear it all, babe. Since you wanna be so bold and all." He quickly goes back to licking your wetness, his tongue slowly starting to enter you.

"V-Vox!" You moan out, unashamed. "If—Oh fuck—" You were gasping for air, his tongue ravaging your insides as you dug your nails into the mattress beneath you. "If only you'd—Ah—Noticed my advances sooner."

You managed to lock his head in place with your thighs, the sudden dominance shocking him into freezing. "You would've been had this all night, sir."

You let him go from your thighs, "Now ravage me the you do with your eyes."

And just like that he goes wild, devouring you, relishing in your taste. You feel a knot forming in your stomach as quickly as he noticed it. He didn't slow down. Even after releasing on his tongue, he continued to feast on you with his tongue, his fingers.

He pulls himself off of you, "You're not done yet, Y/N." You look up breathlessly as he towered over you. His pants off and you see his cock, dripping with pre-cum. You couldn't help but fulfill your hunger now, taking him into your mouth eagerly.

He throws his head back, hand resting atop your head. He groans in pleasure, bucking his hips into you as you suck him with hunger. "Someone's ravenous~" He teased, his voice having that effect you've always craved to hear over and over. You look up at him, lust in your eyes almost pleading him to finally take you.

He pulls you off and grins at you with the smile that's won you over since you've ever laid eyes on him, "Let's get the main point, shall we?" He positions himself, teasing your clit with his tip. "Beg, dear." He whispers in your ear.

You flip on your stomach, head down with your ass up. "Please Vox," You whine, "Fuck me silly and record it for yourself."

He sparks with joy, entering you. Your tightness catching him off guard. He was in absolute bliss and with the way your walls held his cock well, he almost didn't want to pull out. "I could keep my cock in you like this..." He licks your neck, "...all fucking day."

You were a mess, drooling the moment you felt him go inside of you. "F-fuck..." You whispered, "Vox please."

His slow paces didn't last, he went straight to pounding you into his mattress, your nails audibly ripping his sheets. "You're going—Ah—" You managed to say, "I'm not going to be able to live without this."

He chuckles, "I wasn't planning on leaving you a day without it the moment I entered you." He sped up, hips slamming into yours. You felt his sparks every time he hit the entrance of your womb, sending light electric jolts of pleasure all over your body.

You became a screaming mess, repeating his name over and over as if he were to forget. He pulled out of you for a brief moment, causing a whine to escape your lips quickly replaced with a moan. He had flipped you on your back, he's now staring down at you, watching your face drowned in pleasure.

"How about I mark you mine, huh?" You feel his tongue ravaging your chest, filling you with overstimulation. "Fucking hell I'm going to mark you."

"Mark me, Vox!" You scream, "Fuck I'm gonna—"

The knot came back, faster and hotter this time. The way you two made ravenous love to each other could improve the Sin of Lust himself.

He rubbed against your g-spot, driving you wilder. "Ri-right there! Fuck Vox I can't—" You were interrupted yet again with him making out with you. His dick grew bigger inside of you, indicating he was close to his climax just as you were.

"Inside, Vox" You whispered into between kisses, "All of it, as deep as you can."

You didn't have to tell him twice, he grabbed your hips with one hand, the other rubbing your clit truly sending you over the edge. Your walls tighten around him, squeezing every single drop into your womb.

He stayed inside you for a while after you both came, making sure every little bit stays inside. Your limbs were weak as you laid in his bed helplessly.

The sight of you got him rearing to go again. To which you happily obliged.

——————————————

Your personal endeavors lasted for hours, to which the other Vees pieced together fairly quick. After losing count of how many times you two indulged in each others' bodies like ravenous beasts, he prepared a bath for you. Making sure you got the best damn aftercare of your life.

"You need to sit back and enjoy the show, baby." He purred into Vox's ear.

Turns out you had cancelled his entire day so he had nothing to worry about. You two were basically official but he had yet to pop the question for you wanted to be his and his forever in hell.

"Vox, love." You speak softly, humming, "You have to let me go out eventually."

He hasn't necessarily let go of you since you got dressed from your bath. He had been stuck in and on you all day. Not that you necessarily minded. "I have to pick up some weapons for us for the extermination later on, you really are going to have to let me go."

After multiple "10 more minutes" requests, you were freed from the grasp of your almost boyfriend. You needed to check on the production of tools from Carmilla Carmine. On your stroll there, a familiar voice catches you dead in your tracks. Behind you stood Alastor, the radio demon, evident with his eerie shadow.

You kept walking, hoping his business wasn't with you. But it was. He teleported in front of you and smiled. You hated his smile, you weren't able to read the emotion behind it.

"Why hello dear! The name's Alastor!" He grabbed your hand and shook it against your will, "It's a pleasure to be meeting you, quite the pleasure!" His hands were cold and the way he touched you gave you goosebumps.

"It's wonderful to be finally meeting you! Why I've heard much about you! You're Vox's new plaything." His voice distorting into radio static along with his eyes changing. You were shaking but you weren't about to back down. "Too bad you'd already given him your soul. I could have offered you more."

"I didn't make a fucking deal with him. He loves me. Something you wouldn't be able to understand." You hissed making the radio demon laugh.

"Well how about we make a deal." He reaches his hand out to you, "I can provide you with so much power, enough for you to be a worthy overlord next to your poor choice of a demon lover. And in return, your soul."

You start to take a couple of steps back, "I..." You stutter, absolutely petrified. His antlers were peeking from the top of his head. "I don't need to be an overlord next to him. I'm fine like this."

Your statement received static laughter. "Haha! You foolish little doll." His grin was menacing now, taking a step forward each time you took one back. "You would become an easy target. Just like you are now. And I would absolutely love to kill you if it means I get to ruin that picture box nonsense's eternity in hell."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You shut your eyes, terrified to do anything. You knew you can't win against the radio demon. He made a point. Your powers were nothing in comparison to the demons Vox had to deal with. Maybe...making a deal with him would be a smart idea.

Zap! You heard an electric box crack. Your eyes dart up to the sound and you see that the other boxes exploded soon after. You see a car absolutely speed down the road and in a blink of an eye, you were getting yanked into the moving car and into Vox's arms.

"That motherfucker—He didn't hurt you, did he? I'll fucking kill him!" Vox was seething, glitching all over the place. You held his hand and he seemed to calm down a bit. You put a hand on his chest, his heart was pounding faster than yours.

"Vox, I'm fine. He just wanted to scare me into making a deal with him."

"A deal?!" He looked at you with terrified eyes, something you've never seen him wear on his face once. "You didn't...right?"

You shook your head, "Of course not. I would never make a deal. With anybody."

Vox takes you to his room immediately as soon as you both arrive home, "I moved your things into mine. We'll share this space now." He sighs, "The moment I saw you in that situation I just...I panicked. I'm sorry I couldn't get there sooner."

"Vox...I'm fine. I can manage." You gave him an empathetic look, "I didn't get hurt because you were there just in time."

"But...He was right you know." He said with a hint of annoyance in his tone. "Without a deal between us, your powers...as amazing as they are! Don't get me wrong but...I deal with overlords here. Demon overlords." He holds your hand in his, you feel him shaking slightly. "If...If you make a deal with me."

"No." You said a little too fast, "I don't make deals. I work for what I have. I don't take shortcuts. I can't."

"Not for your soul! I just want you to have the powers I do. It's for your protection." He begged.

"But it won't work that way! I cannot give my soul away like that. I can protect myself just fine!" You pull your hands away from him. The thought of you actually being weaker than Vox despite the control you have over him due to your mutual love angered you. You didn't want to be weak. But he was right. Only a deal between you two would strengthen you tremendously.

"Y/N—" He protested, "Why won't you let me do this for you." His voice distorted. You snap back, "Vox, sir. Why don't you listen to me when I say I don't want my soul on the line for powers. It's how I lost my damn parents."

He froze. You froze. You said too much. "Y/N I—"

"Nothing! Nothing. Don't fucking worry about me, okay Vox? I just. I can't." Your head drops, your chest tight with pain.

He sighs, taking your hand once more. "Y/N...Please hear me out." He was met with silence so he continued. "Make a deal with me. For your soul I'll share you my powers..." He lifts your chin with his finger, "And I'll share you my soul."

This caught you off guard. A soul for a soul? You've never heard of such a thing. Would that be really possible? He was willing to give his soul away to you, "Vox..."

He smiles sweetly, "You already own my heart. You own my entire life. I am in love with you, Y/N. Fucking hell, I will cut electricity off in this entire city just for you." He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before stepping back, letting go of you.

"Do we have a deal?" He reached his hand out, glowing with sparks flying from it. You look at him, "Your soul...are you sure? For mine?" He nods with confidence. You take his hand and sparks fly the moment you shook it. It felt like a strong gust of wind and force pushing into you.

And in that instance, you feel electricity course through your veins. Your eye starts to morph to be more like his. You look at him and his eye was spiraling. By the look of his face, yours did too. You blink and shake it off.

"The deal is done. I now own your soul and you own mine." Vox hugs you, "I love you, Y/N. I don't ever want you to be in danger. I will give up everything for you."

You hug him back tighter, "I love you too, Vox." This had been the first time you've said this to him. He was ecstatic. You feel him lift you and spin you a bit in excitement. =

——————————

Ever since your run-in with Alastor, you had never left the building without too many guards and Vox by your side. If he was busy, Valentino would be with you. You two were already friends but the constant shopping together just brought you two closer.

"You know, I never thanked you for pressuring me into sleeping in Vox's bed while he stayed up." You laugh, elbowing the moth demon.

"You're absolutely welcome," He pinched your cheek lovingly, "And was it a fun night?" He teased though you were used to it when it comes to him.

"It actually happened in the morning and it was bliss." You sigh happily, "I felt like I was getting bred the way he was pounding me. Asmodeus would've been proud of us."

You both share a laugh together before exiting the limo and out to the shopping district. You were bored and wanted to see what random thing you can buy and Valentino wanted to scout new hires.

Valentino drags you into his lingerie store, "Oh Y/N~" He grinned, "You just have to wear this for him."

"Valentino those are ropes." You say, a little too blankly. He stared back at you with a look of 'Are you serious?' plastered on his face.

"Precisely. Let's put you in this and leave you in his room." He pulls out a photo on his phone of his last rope play porn shoot with one of his employees. "See? Oh this sill drive him mad. Vox loves being in control."

You think about it, not too long honestly, but you did think about it. You ended up purchasing it and whatever else Val told you to get. And maybe you went a little overboard getting almost every cute thing you saw.

As soon as you get home, you were being followed by two employees whose hands were full of your bags. Vox greeted you with a spinning hug. "How was it? I see you got a lot of things. What'd you get?" He was like an excited puppy for you.

You smile at him with a mischievous look in your eye as you gestured to a shopping bag from Valentino's lingerie brand(that you got an amazing 100% off deal from), "Oh just you wait, sir." You state before pivoting on your heel, walking away. He tried to chase after you but was quickly stopped by Valentino. "Wh-Val! Get the fuck out of my way what does she mean by that."

The moth demon chuckled down at him, "Oh she has a surprise for you that'll definitely keep you both all night." Before he could protest and argue he gets a message on his phone from you.

'Be a good boy and wait 30 minutes before coming in.'

Followed by a photo of you stripping. On his bed. He just adored you being on his bed at any given point in time.

"Now stay here," Val pats his shoulder before walking in the same direction you went, "She asked me to tie her up the way you like it for you before you get there."

...

"WHAT."

Safe to say it was a long, loud, powerful night that surprisingly didn't cut power in the city. And you were grateful for the soundproof walls he had in his room. And Vox had everything on camera.

[deeppenguinstudent]

I don't think we talk about kevjean in the banquets enough

Kevin is soft with Jean's name in his mouth. Jean had to smile at Kevin to taunt him at the bequest of Riko, probably to show faux hatred towards Kevin for leaving the Ravens so no one catches on what exactly he felt for Kevin. Happiness he left Riko and could finally prove he was better but bitterness because he left Jean there in the Nest, knowing damn well what Riko would have done to him.

The fact that both of them stared at each other with nothing to say. Kevin and Jean, who used to never have enough time to finish conversations and never sat in silence in the Nest when they were alone, turned into strangers overnight. They had to wait until Riko was away to actually indulge in meaningful conversation that was so rare yet grounding for both of them in the Nest.

Jean was probably forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Kevin as he spoke to Neil and let his eyes roam when Riko was distracted in antagonising the Foxes.

This was probably something he was forced to say. Do you think Riko made Jean do the talking first because he maybe knew that Kevin had a soft spot for him? The You won't stay might be referring to how Kevin wouldn't stay with the Foxes, but I like that it also implies that Jean maybe still has some hope that Kevin would come back to them, to him. It sounds like most of his words are straight from Riko, but you can see the underlying plea in Jean's words.

He antagonizes Andrew mainly because he doesn't understand why Kevin would leave him for Andrew. He doesn't understand their relationship, and it gnaws at him that maybe Kevin meant much more to him than he ever did to Kevin. He's reminded of how Kevin used French against him and wonders whether their little tryst was nothing but a closed off street at Kevin's end. Spiralling, Jean allows himself to unfold and spit out his venom and jealousy to the Foxes; particularly the one that stole Kevin away from him.

This is arguably my favourite scene in the second banquet. Although it's short, it really puts into perspective their entire relationship within like 2 paragraphs. (That's reaching but you get what I mean.)

First off, let's talk about how Jean doesn't register Riko's words at first. He doesn't respond to 'Take Kevin and leave us'. I believe this is because previously, Riko would rather tear his own hand off than allow Jean and Kevin to be in the same room alone without Riko. So this comes as a shock for him. It's a fleeting moment, and he thinks he probably just imagined Riko's words.

Seized is a strong word, and I believe it speaks a lot at how desperate Jean was to even converse with Kevin in the banquet at all. Perhaps he gave a wide berth because he half expected Riko to strike him down for even attempting to seize Kevin and take him away. Seized literally means he forcibly pulled Kevin's arm towards him, and Kevin did not budge. He didn't complain, grunt out, or even do anything as he let Jean grab his arm. (I can just imagine Jean with his chest pressed against Kevin's arm speedwalking away, and I find it so adorably heartbreaking)

Jean also moves as fast as he can, showing that he wants to get away as soon as possible with Riko far, far behind them. He wants alone time with Kevin. He just wants to talk to him without the Ravens or Foxes breathing down his neck.

I genuinely wonder what Kevin would be thinking at this moment. What would he feel as the boy he left behind the Nest is taking him by the arm and pulling away from his abuser; this time, when he leaves, Jean was with him. Does he think about how easy it is to just leave with Jean beside him? Does he also want to grab onto Jean and not let go of fear of what Riko would do to him when Kevin is not there? Can he feel Jean's body heat as a stupid reminder that he's still alive and not bleeding out from Riko's scars?

Jean, going still at Dan and Matt's approach, could also signify that he fully expected to be punished for even latching himself onto Kevin, like Kevin was a sin he was foolish enough to be addicted to. I just want to know Dan and Matt's expression as they see Jean grasping onto Kevin so tightly, like, what do they see? Do they see Riko's dog doing it's masters bidding, or do they see Jean for who he is; a boy irrevocably in love with someone he can never ever have. A boy so desperate that even few seconds in the banquet keeps him going for a few days after.

Jean grasping onto Kevin could honestly mean a multitude of things, but I like to see it as Jean finally understanding that Kevin is not meant to be in evermore, isn't meant to be a comforting solace patching up his wounds when his thumbs were broken and unable to stitch himself up. But Jean still wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be in Kevin's life. He wanted Kevin to see him as Jean Moreau, a hopeless boy in love with the only person that ever gave him care. Not Jean Moreau of Perfect Court, number 3 the country's greatest backliner because Kevin only saw him on the court after he left evermore. So he stubbornly clung onto Kevin as his past as his future, aka the Foxes, came to collect his due from Jean; essentially handing over the one thing that kept him going throughout the Nest.

And I find it cute that Matt and Dan didn't shoo Jean off. They let him stay with Kevin. Maybe because they could see the tragedy in his eyes or the way Kevin was calm and placcid beside him, which was weird because Kevin gets anxious literally around EVERY Raven.

[lamnwar]

"Hey, babe."

"Hm?"

"Do you think we can get a dog?"

Taiga raises an eyebrow at you, facing your pleading eyes, that look on your face he only sees when you ask for him to take you out on a nice dinner.

"Are you serious, babe?"

"Dead serious."

He stares back, thick eyebrows torn in confusion at your sudden request, and one that makes no sense at all since...

"I'm scared shitless of them."

You laugh, a blatant mockery of your boyfriend and his irrational fear of dogs. You've been aware of it for a long time now; from the way he goes the opposite direction of anyone walking their dog on the street and how he stays on his guards every time you hang out at Tetsu's. The sight never fails to amuse you. Can it get more ridiculous than seeing a buff, giant man like your boyfriend shitting his pants in front of a creature which's not even a quarter of his size?

"Come on Taiga, we'll get a small one, maybe something chill like... a corgi?"

"Can't we get a cat?" he replies, still not convinced by, what is to him, an absurd demand.

"I'm allergic, you know that."

He sighs. He doesn't get it - where this sudden demand comes from or what even is the necessity for you to get a pet. As far as he's concerned, the two of you are well enough. So, what more can you seek? Is his company not enough to keep you from loneliness?

"What do you need a dog for, anyways?" he mumbles, a slight childish pout on his face.

You don't reply instantly, your gaze travelling away from his adorable face. The reason for your request is not a mystery to you, yet voicing it out scares you. It's just painfully embarrassing.

"Maybe you'd like a bigger breed? Should we get a German shepherd?"

He clicks his tongue, turning your face towards his, "Answer my question."

You remain silent, still not looking his way. It's not like Taiga would judge you for your reason behind this seemingly random request, but it's more that you don't like what it may reflect of you.

"Hey, babe. Not gonna judge, I'm just trying to understand. Y'know, depending on the answer I might actually be open for negotiation."

You laugh softly, a breathy sigh coming out of your lips as you finally speak, voice little.

"I... I want company so I don't feel alone when you're not home."

Your answer surprises him at first; eyebrows raised as he ponders what you mean by that. For all he knows, he's at home quite often, safe for the few times when he has to play abroad. Taiga's routine, overwise, is constructed so he gets to spend the most time with you. Morning in your arms, making sure he's home to cook a delicious diner for you every evening, and even going to occasionally pick you up earlier just so he has more hours to spend with you. And you are fully aware of it, which makes you feel terrible for being so clingy. You literally have no excuse, when your boyfriend is Taiga Kagami.

"It's stupid, I know." You groan, hiding your face in the palms of your hands.

"Nah pretty, I get it."

"Huh?"

Strong arms pull you towards your boyfriend's warm chest. He keeps you there, in a soft embrace as you feel his laugh rumble in his torso.

"I'd become a househusband if it meant spending all my days with you. So I get it."

"Yeah? Because there's that and also..." you pause, gathering your thoughts. "I wanna take care of something."

This time, though, he doesn't get it at all. You could mean anything by that statement, and for all he knows, it might have everything to do with him, or not. You grimace, not expecting to open up that much from what started off as a rather simple request - well, simple in your book, that is.

"I don't get to take care of you, since you're so independent. But I wanna care for something, have someone be dependent on me. Is that crazy?" you laugh in embarrassment, "shit, my shrink would probably put that on my mommy issues."

In all honesty, Taiga doesn't really know how to respond to that. It's not really that he's at lost for words, as much as he simply cannot comprehend what you are feeling.

He wishes he could though, and after a few minutes of silent reflection, he eventually does. Taiga grew up to be self-sufficient, and ever since you started living together, he's unknowingly started taking care of you, too. It's just a second nature to him, something he does without thinking about it too hard.

"That's why you want a dog, huh? well, I would rather have you take care of me" he says, a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

"Envious of our non-existent dog already, Taiga?" you chuckle.

"Honestly? Yeah."

He sighs, bringing you closer to him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You're a bit stunned by the sudden demonstration of affection, but your fingers automatically find his hair, twisting his red locks between them.

"I didn't know you felt like that, babe. But I don't want you to get a dog either. If you wanna take care of someone, take care of me."

You laugh softly, "then start needing me a bit, you do absolutely everything by yourself, s'not fair!"

He pulls away, looking at you curiously. Well, you're not entirely wrong, he clearly doesn't need you to clean after him, cook for him, or do anything of that sort. He even takes care of the spiders and other insects! So really, he doesn't need you for that. But at the same time, he'd argue that you're omitting one crucial thing which just you can tend to.

"Are you stupid? I still need your kisses. Want me to be more needy for them? I could absolutely do that!" he leans in again, face so close that you feel like he's taking your air all for himself. "Kiss me, I'm begging."

You stare back in surprise, flustered by his sudden request. Yet, some part of you feels warm by hearing these words. Maybe you do crave him begging for you, for anything that only you can provide.

Your lips find his softly, drawing a hum of satisfaction out of your boyfriend. If he's being a 100% honest with himself, he'll gladly admit craving your touch more than anything else. He leans in, grabbing the back of your neck almost in desperation, almost as if he wants to gobble you in. You giggle, pulling away and leaving a playful pat on his hair. Lovestruck eyes stare at you, making your heart bloom in a thousand of flowers.

"See? No need for a dog. I'll always need you for kisses."

[malereadermaniac]

Bad idea right? ~ Terushima x Male Reader

Nsfw implied / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI word count: 730 Bit short but whatever I hope u guys enjoy!

You haven't heard from Terushima in a month

After your breakup you vowed to never speak to him again, your friends made you

And they're right - that dickhead cheated on you and tried to blame you for his infidelity

"You barely let me hit it" was verbatim what he said

But... you're out right now and drunk off your head...

And when you're at your least sensible, Terushima decides to slide back into your dms

With a short "Hey wanna talk about last time? XX XXX STREET" sending you his new address

'Seeing him tonight... It's a bad idea right?' You think as you take yet another shot of tequila

The sound of your friends starts to fade, and your thoughts swirl into an illegible mess

Fuck it it's fine.

He might be you're ex, and yes he did fully cheat on you in a bed you shared with him for months but can't two people reconnect?

As you're waiting outside for your uber to arrive you send the blonde a quick text

'I'll be there in 10, don't expect anything tho'

As you get into the car, wrecking the vow you'd taken, you text your friends telling them you're going to bed

Not mentioning in whose sheets.

You're brain is still going 'ahhhh' your thoughts falling on deaf ears

Getting out of the car you notice the blonde hair you were so familiar with a month ago

Terushima is standing in the doorway, smiling softly as you walk up to the door

Fuck why did he have to look so hot???

You're sure you probably saw much hotter men at the club you were just at but you can't seem to remember them

"Hey" Terushima says, his smile turning into a smirk

"Hey.." you mummer, looking up into your exes eyes

God this was a bad. BAD idea

The next thing you know, you're pinned against Terushima's bedroom wall, his tongue dominating yours, the feeling of his piercing bringing back many pleasant memories

Your brain is empty except for thoughts of Terushima

Your phone starts going off, your friends are checking up on you...

Terushima takes your phone and throws it onto his bed

"Ignore them... focus on me.. I missed you (n/n).." he whispers, his voice turning you on so much

Fuck he knows you get weak in the knees when he calls you that nickname

You can feel his boner on your thigh

Your shirt being pulled off

His shirt coming off

Fuck you loved his muscles and abs

Fuck he loved your hips and waist

You start to see white, the bed, your ears filled with Terushima's moans and yours

God all you feel is pleasure...

You wake up in the blondes arms

The familiar feeling of Terushima's muscular arms around your waist, his pecs and abs against your back, the feeling of his dick resting soft against your plush ass

You missed this...

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING

THIS WAS THE WORST IDEA YOU COULD POSSIBLY OF HAD

FUCK FUCK FUCK

You calm down for a moment and grab your phone trying not to wake Terushima, your ex boyfriend who fully cheated on you.

3 missed calls from your friends, 9 messages from many different people

God you had to send the guiltiest text to your friends - only a dumb, drunk person gets with their cheating ex...

"Good morning, (n/n)... are you hungry at all?" Terushima asks, his arms tightening around your waist as he kisses you neck gently

"Oh fuck no! Don't call me that, Yuuji!"

"Oh? But you loved it when I called you that last night?" He's smirking, you can hear it in his voice

He flips you onto your back and holds himself above you, kissing your neck slowly moving down

You can't lie... you love it so much

You move your arms onto his muscular back

His mouth moving back to your lips

His tongue piercing cold to the touch

You moan into Terushima's mouth as you feel your dick get hard again

"Hmph~ see you're hard again, baby..."

"Don't baby me, Teru... I still fucking hate you"

"That's fine... Hate sex is so much better than normal sex... Fuck you're so perfect for me..." terushima moans as he rubs his dick into yours

It seems like you're very pre-disposed to bad ideas

[yetanotherhiddlestoner]

(MDNI 18+, smut will be eventually happening in this story line but still please respect the MDNI)

(Plus size reader x Negan. In the world of the dead rising, you just happen to fall for the one fucked up person who has no interest in you. And I am aware the timeline doesn't add up but for the story I had to make the timeline longer than a couple months.)

~Thank you to all that read the first chapter and commented, means a lot that you like this story. Sorry for taking so long to post a second chapter, I have at least 2 more chapters up and ready to post when I can.~

(Word Count - 2262 Words.)

~<3~ ------------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER TWO - I FELL HARD, YOU'LL FALL HARDER.

~<3~-------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were out scavenging when the fall of Negan happened. You didn't want to fight anyone, so Rick asked you to go during that time, making your way on a weeklong journey for supplies. You weren't sure what you to expect when you returned home, was it still going to be there, was it going to be taken over by Negan fully or would Rick win this war. You didn't know and you were worried, you were uncertain what you would do it Negan came out the winner.

You approached the gates carefully looking around for the day shift guard. You sighed relief when Daryl popped his head up and smiled at you, the gates opening before you drove your vehicle inside slowly.

"Welcome back you, how was your mission?" Daryl said hugging you tightly.  "Was a great success, the truck is full of food, ammo everything I could pick up and stack I did, even managed to grab a little bit of petrol for the car. We should be ok for a couple weeks."  You say as you open the door and jump out of the truck. "Well that is good news Y/N but I got some bad news that you may not like unfortunately." Daryl said looking over to the jail cell that was located under the first house on the street.   "What?" You look over and don't see anything, was someone hurt, dead or worse. "Rick, well he, kind of let Negan live and bought him back as a prisoner" Daryl says waiting for your response. 

You felt yourself become sick, why would Rick do that?  "But Y/N he can't hurt anyone, trust us, he is safe and locked away." You walk over to the barred windows; you can hear him whistling before he spots you. "Hello Y/N" Negan says smiling.  Daryl comes up behind you, his hand resting on your shoulder offering a small comfort. "You look amazing doll, have I ever told you that? Loving the long hair on you, suits you." You want to believe him, but you tell yourself that he is just doing this to get under your skin, to get a reaction out of you. 

"Daryl, doesn't she look wonderful, you are a fucking lucky man to be hers." "We ain't dating." Daryl says to Negan, he lets out a long whistle, "Well shit why not?" Negan probes, feeling a bit of jealousy flowing within him. "We're just friends Negan; not that its none of your business who I date anyway" you say.

While you weren't going to deny Daryl was hot, and when you met him you thought maybe if given the chance you might date him but after a while your love for him turned to more a friendship love and you and him were more like brother and sister. "Let's just get this truck unloaded Daryl" you say pulling him away from the prisoner.  Negan watches you go, he takes in how your jeans hug your curves tightly, how your hair flows underneath the bandana you are sporting and how amazing you look covered in knives and guns. This wasn't the same scared girl he rescued years ago, this was a woman who found herself, her confidence and her place and damn he was proud of you.  Every day he would watch you work; watch you talk with the men and women of the community and play with the kids on your down time. He noticed the way you smiled when someone said something to you that you found funny and how quickly you were to react to whatever danger that tried to enter your home.  Each passing day he sat there silently, admiring you, wishing he could talk to you again, missing your new fiery wit and sharp tongue. 

He often found himself wondering if you would have had the same spitfire nature back at the Sanctuary, was it hiding inside you, waiting till the right time to be release. You radiated confidence in everything you did.  Negan was somewhat sad that he wasn't the one who bought it out in the first place.

Negan was waiting for his dinner as usual, waiting for Gabe to bring it down but was surprised when you came down those stairs holding the tray instead. He noticed how you kept your head down and quickly passed it under the bars, the sound of it scraping on the concrete breaking the silence in the small room. "Are you going to ignore me for the rest of my life?" Negan asks, placing the tray on his cot. 'Gabe usually keeps me company while I eat." "Yeah, well I am not Gabe and if I had my way you wouldn't be getting anything from our pantry." You snap at him. "Especially nothing I risked my ass for" 

"Shouldn't you be happy? If you had stayed with me, you would have been either captured, dead or abandoned again but here you are safe, and sound and I am the one being treated like a caged animal at the zoo." Negan says take a bite of his bread. You glare at him "I would be happier if you had never came here, if Rick didn't bring you back alive as far as I am concerned, you're still a threat to us." "I am unarmed, I have no men, no followers, nothing. I am not a threat."  "You could kill a man with your bare hands, I fucking witnessed it once and that is a risk I really don't want to take, but since Rick is leader and he is content with you being kept like an animal then I have no say."

You get up to leave when you hear Negan say, "I'm sorry". You turn back to him, and he is standing at the bars, his arms hanging out casually, staring at you. "What did you say?"

"I said I am sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said back then. You were right, I was scared that I was going to lose it all and in the end I did. To me you were never overweight, you were perfect. You made me feel things that I haven't felt in a goddamn long time. Your smile, laugh, the way you look at me as if the world shone out my ass was why I could start my day, just knowing I could talk to you was enough for me."

"A little late for your "kind" words now don't Cha think? You could be saying this now so I will forgive you and let you go" you say pointing out the obvious. "I can tell you that I will not be the one setting you free" You growl as he gaze softens.

"I am 100% telling the truth. The day after you left, I went to your room to talk to you, when I entered and found it empty I went and searched the entire compound for you, I had Simon patrolling outside hoping you were just trying to prove something to us but when night fell, and you didn't come back I knew I fucked up and then you show up here that day and the feelings I felt seeing you, I can't describe."

"And yet you didn't learn, you did the same thing to Olivia. If you hadn't of said shit, maybe I would still be flying under the Negan radar." "You're right, I didn't learn and what I said to Olivia wasn't nice at all. I hurt you twice without even thinking." 

You stand there looking at the once powerful Negan, "You are pathetic, a man like you never learns." You snarl as you get closer to the bars, "You are going to rot in here." You were so close to him; you could feel his breathe on your face.  Negan was getting pissed off, he had tried to apologize, something that he never did, and you spat it back at him. He didn't want you to forgive right away but you didn't even give it time to sink it. You were so close, so angry, he couldn't help but get turned on, the scent of you drove him crazy.

  He grabbed your arms, slamming you into the bars, you fought against him, but he covered your lips with his and you stopped fighting for a moment. Your lips were warm and soft just like he had imagined. His facial hair tickled your skin as you felt his tongue glide against you closed lips. You pulled away from his grip, using the back of your hand to wipe your lips of his kiss, you stood there staring in shock a minute before storming out of the cell and heading home. Negan watched you rush home, he could see your house from his cell, it was one of his past time favorites, watching you in your room, the silhouette of you always got his attention. When you thought no-one was watching you would sit on the windowsill and have a smoke, or just stare at the stars. Negan would watch you, wishing he could join you, to hear you laugh and smile at him as you spoke to each other.

His fingers touched his lips, remembering how soft they were, he had been wanting to kiss you since the day he found you. 

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

The next day Negan didn't see you around the compound, you didn't leave for a supply run, so you had to be in your home. "If you are looking for Y/N she not feeling well today so Rick gave her the day off" Gabe said passing him his food under the cell door. "Is she ok?" Negan asks not in the mood to eat, looking at the tray on the floor. "You tell me, she has never once taken a day off sick and the one time she comes down here and she is "unwell"? Want to tell me what happened?" Gabe ask sitting down next to Negan's cell.

"Nothing happened, she gave me the food and that is it" Negan lies. "I am a priest Negan, think of this like a confessional, whatever you say stays between us." Negan looks at the priest then sits next to him. "I tried to apologize for my past behavior, but she wasn't having any of it. Words got heated and when she got close enough, I grabbed her and kissed her, I don't know why I did that I just had the urge to pull her in, kiss her crazy but then she left without saying anything" Negan confesses.

Gabe looks at the man next to him, he now understands why you stayed home today.  "Listen, I know I should not be doing this, but I will. First just I suggest give her time, I'll try and send her down next week to deliver your food, I can't promise anything ok" Negan nods and watches the man leave.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3 DAYS LATER

Daryl comes to grab you for a supply run with him. You place you knife and guns on your hip and calf and walk over to his bike, knowing full well who is watching you. "Good morning, Y/N, I heard you have been sick lately I hope you are ok now" Negan says giving you that cocky smile you knew him for. "I don't need your concern Negan." You tie the bandana around your head and lean on Daryl's bike. "I don't want to hear that you have been unwell. Especially since you were the last one to see me before you got sick. Who knows what you gave me with our kiss." You look around and make sure no-one heard him; you storm over to his window. "What the fuck are you doing?" You growl as you kneel down. "I am doing nothing Y/N. I don't want to get sick to." He tilts his head as he looks at you. "You know damn well I am fine." "Which brings me to my next question, why were you hiding and pretending to be sick, surely the kiss wasn't that bad.?" "I was embarrassed ok" That was a lie, but you had hoped he couldn't tell.  "You are OUR prisoner; it makes me look bad if anyone finds out about it." "We are adults, we can do what we want, why would it look bad?" Negan pushes you.

"If anyone in this community finds out our past it wouldn't look too good for me or Rick. He is the one keeping my secret about where I come from" You say spying Daryl approaching and you get up to leave. "You want me" Negan watches you turn around to face him again "Don't deny it, that kiss was just the tip of the iceberg. You may have told yourself that you have no feelings, nothing, for me but that is a lie, you want me just as much as I want you." You listen to him carefully and shake your head. " You only want me now because I am unattainable and skinny. You wouldn't be saying that if it was fat me" You leave before he can shout out anything. "Hey Daryl" you say as he hops on his bike, you jump on behind him, hugging his waist tightly as he goes to start the bike, you smirk back at Negan, resting your head on Daryl's back. "Hold on" Daryl shouts as he starts the bike up and rides out the gates. Negan feels the pits of jealously rising inside him.

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[anjaelle]

I Think She Knows

Pairing: Tangerine x Black!Reader Warnings: Drunk!Tangerine, Needy!Tangerine, Jealous!Tangerine, (Kinda Toxic Behavior) Word Count: 2.4K Summary: In which Tangie starts realizing things and absolutely does not have the bandwidth to deal with it. Because babygirl is bad at most things, and feelings are at the top of the list. a/n: Something something... I don't advocate for getting drunk and being weird at your not-girlfriend's house. Thanks!

(gif source)

--

When it fully hit him, it was like being mowed down by a 10-ton truck.

He felt like he couldn't breathe. The way his chest suddenly rose and fell made him made him question if his heart was attempting to escape his ribcage just to be closer to you.

You were talking about...something. You came over wearing a skin tight red dress and you carried your shoes in your hands as you tiredly strolled into his kitchen.

Actually, he remembered what you were talking about.

You mentioned how tired you were of having to talk to idiot men, but that stabbing them in the head for your efforts was almost worth the annoyance. Ordinarily he probably would've just laughed or made a smart ass comment about how lucky he was that he could be around you without the threat of violence. But you mentioned fighting, did a small spin in a circle, and did something akin to a silly jig to show how secure you felt in your dress.

He felt his thoughts halt in their tracks, and he suddenly couldn't remember his own birth name, let alone how to form a coherent sentence.

You didn't even seem to notice. Or maybe he hid it well. Because the conversation continued like he hadn't malfunctioned right in front of you. Maybe he was running on autopilot. That had to be it.

He swallowed hard, ran his fingers through his mess of untamed curls, and shakily came back into himself with the heavily realization that he was deeply in love with you.

Did you even know? Was it evident on his face like ostentatious neon lights in the middle of a darkened street? You kept talking about your day and he tried to listen intently. But his own brain wouldn't shut the fuck up.

When he realized that he broke the one rule you two made (which he introduced), he wanted to walk into the Atlantic Ocean with rocks in his pockets. He loved you. You weren't even dating. You were definitely seeing other people and he realized he slowly cut out every other person he'd ever fucked just to spend more time with you.

God. He'd dropped SO many other people. He could remember canceling potential hookups just because you wanted to hang out. Of fucking course he couldn't tell you this now. He'd look like a massive idiot.

"Are you alright? You seem off." You suddenly asked. Your beautiful eyes seemed to roam his face in genuine concern. Death would've been easier to face. In fact, death has notoriously been much easier for him to face.

He forced an assumedly easy grin on his face and shrugged, "I'm just listenin', babe."

You quirked a suspicious brow at him, but continued on with your story of your mission. Every so often he could feel himself staring at your mouth and the way your nose seemed to crinkle at certain memories of the night. He was suddenly hyperaware of how much he seemed to be study your every move. Had he been doing it this whole time?

On some level, he was confident that he could tell you exactly how many birthmarks you had on your entire body.

God what a sick fucking freak.

Suddenly his mouth started moving as if it wasn't connected to his own goddamn brain.

"You stayin' over tonight?"

He'd cut you off mid-sentence with the question. Naturally, you shot him a look that screamed contempt.

"...Maybe." You cut your eyes at him in a subtle challenge.

He felt like he didn't sound the least bit convincing, but he straightened his back to force an air of confidence that he obviously didn't have, "Well I need to know, because I might have plans. With a girl. Tonight."

He wasn't sure what he expected your reaction to be. Maybe he wanted you to be jealous. Or maybe he wanted you to try and convince him to change his mind. It was childish, but he wanted you to give him...something. Instead you raised your brows in surprise.

"Oh, really?" You grinned, "Is she cute?"

Oh come on. He thought.

"Yeah, a real stunner." Stunner? What the fuck was he saying? He couldn't stop himself, "Rebecca's tall, blonde, a model. Fuckin' sexy. So gorgeous."

He watched you slip your heels back on and adjust the top of your dress to hide your bra. He wanted to grab your beautiful face and kiss you. Instead he was spiraling and you didn't even notice.

"Blonde?" You seemed skeptical. Yes, good. "Since when do you go for Blondes?"

"Since always, actually. You think I tell you about everyone I've shagged?"

You shot another cutting glare in his direction, and he fought the childish giddiness rising in his chest. When you looked away from him to tap away on your phone, he tried to figure out what else he could say to get your attention again.

"You're in a particularly bitchy mood today." You suddenly said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe you should leave, then." He responded, much harsher than he intended to. He winced the minute the words left his mouth and you looked like you wanted to throw something at him.

"Since you wanna be a dick, fine. I'm having Jamesy pick me up."

You threw your jacket on and started tapping on your phone again, which irritated him to no end.

"Jamesy?" He spat, "Who the hell is Jamesy?"

"You think I tell you about everyone I've shagged?" You threw back at him in an almost perfect accent. He deserved it. But he started to panic as you headed towards the door.

"Well fine." He countered, though it sounded akin to a whine, "Stephanie's probably on her way, anyway. I don't want to watch you two fight over me or somethin'."

"Nobody's trying to fight over you, shut up." You mumbled, shoving your phone in your pocket. You took a second to pull the door open, but hesitated, "And also who's Stephanie?"

"The model."

"You said her name was Rebecca."

He stumbled over his words but finally came up with, "I--it's...You just have to be right all the time, don't you?"

He caught the way your mouth twitched in an attempt to fight a laugh, and he really wanted to grab you by the waist and pull you back into his apartment. But your phone dinged again, and you pulled it out of your pocket, "Look, when you're done throwing this little temper tantrum, and you figure out what your problem is, text me. Otherwise, sort your shit out."

Tangerine was having a terrible night. His face sat in a permanent frown as he stared into the fake embers of his electric fireplace and nursed a mason jar of vodka. You were out there getting railed by some prick named James who's too fuckin' old to still be going by Jamesy. And you probably weren't even thinking about him and how he's absolutely piping a real person named Bethany. Stephanie. Rebecca.

♫ I wish, I could just make you turn around Turn around and see me cry There's so much I need to say to you so many reasons why You're the only one who really knew me at all♫

He'd lost track of how many times Phil Collins' miserable pleading played on a loop through his speakers. He felt like a goddamn loser. He scrolled through your Instagram noting that you truly had the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. And you were so funny. Maybe the funniest person he knew. Even the emojis you used were cute.

He wanted to jump in front of a train.

"'Maybe you should leave then' you fuckin' idiot." He mumbled pitifully to himself. "What if I just like...went to her house? What if that guy is there? What if she doesn't answer? What if she tells me to fuck off? What if I tell her and she never speaks to me again?"

He stared at his phone sending and unsending his texts to you over and over, trying to figure out what to say. Or if you'd even read it. Suddenly his phone vibrated and a text from you popped up:

You've sent and unsent me like 9 messages. What the fuck do you want?

It took him 8 minutes to find an Uber to your place and 20 minutes to get there. Was he drunk and irrational? Maybe. But goddamn it, you were his woman.

You just didn't know it yet.

When he got to your floor, he started knocking incessantly on your door.

"Babe," he whined, drunkenly, "darling, are you still mad at me? I'm sorry." When he pressed his damp forehead to the cool metal door of your apartment, he didn't even realize how much he was sweating, "I know I said I was fucking that model. Um. Sabrina! Rhonda? Whatever the hell. But I lied. I'm a filthy fuckin' liar."

He pressed his ear to the door, but he didn't hear anything through the thick metal.

"Please don't fuck that James prick--I'm not callin' him Jamesy. I reckon the man is nearly 40, BARE MINIMUM!" He pressed his palm to the door and called your name again, waiting for you to open it.

When you didn't, he slid down to the floor and cradled the half empty mason jar to his chest.

"So take a look at me now, there's just an empty spaaaace. And there's nothin' left here to remind me. Just the memory of your faaaaace. I'm not leaving 'til you talk to me!"

He felt the back of his head thud against the door but he was too wasted to really feel it. He'd definitely feel it come morning, for sure. His eyes drifted closed as his mind started to wander. Maybe you were asleep after being fucked into the middle of next week. Maybe the guy was telling you to ignore his desperate pleas for attention. He wanted to throw up everywhere.

"Fuckin' Jamesy." He mumbled, crossing his arms in childish disappointment.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and you stumbled out of the door with another woman, giggling uncontrollably. You both held bags of fast food in your arms and it was clear you'd had something to drink as well. The minute you caught a glimpse of him sitting slouched in front of your door, he noticed you exchanging looks with the red headed woman by your side.

"Tangerine, what are you doing here?" You carefully asked, clocking the booze in his lap.

"Nevermind that," he slurred, stupidly, "where's Jamesy?"

The tall, slender red-headed woman raised a hand and waved, "Hi, I'm Jamesy. Do we, like, know each other? Or?"

Tangerine groaned and rested his head against the door again, "Ugh! Jamesy's a lass? How the shit am I supposed to compete with that?"

The woman turned to you with a curious look on her face, "What is he talking about?"

"I don't know. Can you hold this please?" You handed the bag of White Castle to your friend and approached the sad, drunk assassin sitting on the floor outside of your apartment. He looked pitiful. When you brushed his curls from his forehead, you noticed that he was sweating vodka. "Okay, sweetness, you need to get up."

When he looked at you, and saw the concern on your face, he gently touched your cheek and frowned, "You're so pretty, baby. You're the prettiest person I've ever seen in my whole entire life."

"You're pretty, too. But you really need to get up. And you're heavy as fuck, so I need you to help me out here."

"Okay," he nodded sharply, shoving the jar of vodka into his leather jacket pocket. And it surprisingly fit. You didn't question it further. You took a step back and held your arms out in case he lost his balance as he rose to his feet.

It was like watching a 5'11 baby deer.

He leaned against the door, trying to keep his balance, as you grabbed your share of the food from your friend and kissed her goodbye as she left for her Uber.

"What kind of girl is named Jamesy?" Tangerine muttered, as you attempted to unlock the door.

You sighed heavily, "Her name is Siobhan James. But I couldn't pronounce Siobhan when we were little, so I called her Jamesy and it stuck."

"That's so cute. I reckon you were a cute kid." He mumbled, resting his damp head on your shoulder. "You're a cute grown-up. We'd make cute kids."

"Yes, sweetness. We would. And also you're soggy."

"Mhmm." He kissed the shoulder that was covered in his sweat and mumbled, "I'm so sorry I was so, so mean to you, angel face. I was just being a massive dickhead."

"Yeah, you were." You agreed, giving up on trying to unlock the door while he leaned onto you.

"I--I just love you a whole fuckin' lot and I don't know how to deal with that shit. Because, like, you could have anyone you want. So why would you want me, you know?" He grumbled.

"There are a lot of reasons why I want you, Tangerine. You never have to feel insecure about that. I'm just...confused. You decided that the answer to this was to make me mad?" You scratched his scalp, "Does that make sense to you?"

"I wanted you to tell me that you didn't want me to see other people."

"Why would I tell you that, if that's what you want?" You asked, sincerely, "I stopped seeing other people because I love just spending time with you--"

"Hang on. You stopped seeing other people? Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked." You finally managed to unlock the door, and you both stumbled over the threshold.

"Here I was thinking you were getting pounded by lumberjack-built twats named Jamesy. I was in my apartment crying to Phil Collins for nothing?"

"I guess so." You tossed your keys on the kitchen island as he stumbled to the couch and face-planted into the cushions. By the time you showered and changed, he'd fallen into a deep sleep beside the bottle of water and advil tablets you placed out for him.

"And for the record..." you kissed him on top of his head and turned the lights out, "I love you, too. But you probably won't remember this. So we'll revisit it tomorrow."

[faithfulren]

night patrol

during a quiet night patrol, you and bakugo engage in deep conversation, sharing thoughts about what life might be like without the constant demands of hero work.

----

the city was quiet as you and bakugo patrolled the streets, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves providing a serene backdrop to your nightly duty. the moon cast a soft glow, illuminating the path ahead and highlighting the strong features of your partner's face. bakugo walked beside you, his usual scowl softened by the calm of the night.

"so, how's patrol treating you?" you asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you.

bakugo glanced at you, his red eyes reflecting the moonlight. "it's fine. quiet, but i guess that's a good thing."

you nodded, appreciating his straightforward answer. bakugo wasn't one for small talk, but you'd learned to understand his unspoken words and subtle gestures. tonight, however, something felt different. there was a tension in the air, an unspoken feeling hanging between you.

as you continued your patrol, you couldn't help but steal glances at bakugo. despite his explosive personality, you'd grown to admire his determination and strength. there was more to him than met the eye, and tonight you felt a pull to know him better.

"bakugo," you began, choosing your words carefully, "do you ever think about what it would be like if things were different? if we didn't have to patrol and fight all the time?"

he looked at you, surprise flickering in his eyes before he quickly masked it. "what do you mean?"

"i mean, what if we had normal lives? what would you be doing right now?"

bakugo stopped walking, considering your question. "i don't know. i've never really thought about it. being a hero is all i've ever wanted."

you smiled softly, finding his dedication admirable. "it's good to be passionate about what you do. but sometimes, i wonder what it would be like to have a normal life, too."

he studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "and what would you be doing if you weren't here, on patrol with me?"

the question caught you off guard. you hadn't expected him to turn it back on you. "i don't know. maybe i'd be at home, reading a book or watching a movie. something relaxing."

bakugo grunted in response, resuming his pace. "sounds boring."

you laughed, the sound echoing through the empty streets. "not everything has to be exciting, bakugo. sometimes, it's the quiet moments that mean the most."

he didn't respond immediately, and you wondered if you'd said something wrong. but then he spoke, his voice softer than usual. "i guess… i wouldn't mind having more quiet moments."

you looked at him, surprised by his admission. "really?"

he nodded, avoiding your gaze. "yeah. i mean, being a hero is great and all, but… sometimes it's nice to just… be."

the honesty in his words touched you. "i understand. i'm glad we have this time together, even if it's just for patrol."

bakugo stopped again, this time turning to face you fully. "you know, you're not so bad to have around."

your heart skipped a beat at his words. "thanks, bakugo. you're not so bad yourself."

he scoffed, but there was no malice in it. "don't get used to it."

you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. the night seemed even quieter now, the space between you and bakugo charged with an unspoken connection. as you continued your patrol, the silence was no longer awkward but comforting, a testament to the bond you were forming.

eventually, you found yourself at the top of a hill, overlooking the city. the view was breathtaking, the lights twinkling like stars beneath the night sky. you and bakugo stood side by side, taking in the sight.

"it's beautiful," you murmured.

"yeah," bakugo agreed, his voice unusually gentle.

you turned to him, your eyes meeting his. In that moment, everything else faded away. the city, the patrol, the responsibilities, they all disappeared, leaving just the two of you.

"bakugo," you whispered, "thank you for being here with me."

he reached out, taking your hand in his. his grip was firm, yet comforting. "i'm glad you're here too."

as the night stretched on, you and bakugo stayed on that hill, sharing quiet conversations and enjoying the rare tranquility. in that peaceful moment, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

[aaivii]

Sooo, this my take one the Canadian Grand Prix, and as an OP81 supporter it will mostly be focused around Oscar's race and some of the people around him, so if you're expecting a race de-brief here, don't!! Also if you're an Oscar fan, do read the whole thing, I don't think you'll be disappointed.

So, he qualified P4, and again in his own words, not bad but not great either. But what's done is done unless luck decides to favour him at least fucking once and make someone else ahead of him make an error and get their penalty but they don't 😤🤷‍♀️. Some good drivers they are so.

And then in the first half of the race, my heart bloomed everytime the commentators (the Crofty and Brundle one) were like the McLaren drivers are preserving their tyres, and I was like, yes bitch!! Of course they are. I understand that these were cooler conditions so it was albeit easier, but on a situation where George was absolutely sending his tyres, these two were maintaining it. And Oscar is definitely not there yet, but the progress graph says he'll be there absolutely 100%. Cut him some slack, second season guys, remember.

So, they maintain their tires nice and good and some safety car shenanigans later, we come to the last part of the race, where I genuinely feel the McLaren strategy department fumbled a win. Might have not been a 1-2. But would definitely have been a 1-3. During the last safety car, they should have switched to hards just like Mercedes as a response because we already saw Gasly putting some serious 1 or 2 laps when the conditions were favorable. So, that was a genuine fumble.

And as for Oscar Piastri, how !! I mean, I saw some people in ig being all like, mclaren remember you have two drivers, lando should have given the drs. Golden boy blah blah. But that was a good call by Oscar to not switch. Because rarely have I seen a driver being like that. Everyone always jumps at the prospect of replacing their teammate who is clearly ahead. But he obviously played the longer game. And correct call, because Mercs were absolutely after him, so if they had fumbled that switch even by a second it would have been two mercs on that podium. So, I fully agree with his decision to not switch and also it was him fighting with mercs the longest that allowed Lando to not be jumped by Lewis or George because they were clearly the fastest.

And as for that drs call, asked by him, have to agree with that, even if it felt like swallowing a bitter pill because had Lando given him the drs it would have been sooner rather than later, getting jumped by the mercs because again they were the fastest car this weekend. And this is not some closed wall street circuit, and I know many were thinking of that Singapore moment, those were overtake is difficult, so Lando prioritising his own race was correct in my opinion, it allowed him to keep building on that gap which was crucial. Because imagine had he given that drs, mercs would have overtaken both of them and mclaren would be left with zilch.

Also, a salty and cunty part of me is all like, alright mclaren made a fumble with their drivers in terms of tyre changes and calling them to the pit at the correct time, but hey!! At least their drivers were all slick n clean throughout the whole weekend. Not same could be said for mercs whose both drivers and management fumbled a win together. Suck it!!!

And the hottest moment of the race was when George decided that he would do hard racing, around the Wall of Champions hoping Oscar would back off. But what this pootling, and hunky dory and whatever words using man forgot, that he would be racing against a man who has not once in his life lost his calmness and coolness. Fuck the Wall of Champions George Russell because before that, you'll have to face the unfazed Wall called Oscar Jack fucking Piastri who went like no sir. You are not gonna do that. And you know what the best part was, George's whole vibe during the last segments was like that all muscled up dog, but it all went nada against Oscar. He was like this is my corner, and it is going to be my corner. Yoy want to go ahead of me, use your car which is clearly faster than mine. Which he managed. But guess what, it remained his corner at the end. Whoever has decided to race hard against Piastri, we all know, it has blown up on their faces at some point, by their own mistakes btw, because Oscar races hard, but most important, he races clean. So of course, this cost George a few seconds with not enough time with him to catch Lando. So see!!! Karma bitch!! For me, that was THE moment!!!

All in all, a good weekend for the papaya fam. Please don't be like those some people on ig, like Lando vs Oscar, because in the long term, it was a good decision at the end. Times like this I am glad that I'm not twt, because if ig comments are like this really don't wanna know what's going down there.

[dira333]

Life flashes by - Kisame x reader

A/N: Don't look at me, I blame this set of HC's - @wing-ed-thing

There are moments when your whole life flashes by.

As a Shinobi, these moments either happen frequently or only once. And then you’re dead.

So far, you’ve been lucky, always coming back from your missions to share a drink with your friends - you might have had to postpone that drink once or twice until you were able to walk on your own, but that’s neither here nor there.

This time, however, might be different.

-

A black and red coat moves in the wind. There’s that usual tingle rushing over your skin. Your teammates might be better at Ninjutsu than you, but their mediocre Genjutsu skills will be no match for the Genjutsu you expect to hit any moment.

But, don’t Akatsuki members usually travel in pairs?

You jump back, a giant sword splitting the ground where you stood just a moment ago.

“You’re fast.” A gravely voice calls out. Are you imagining that or is there laughter in his voice? “I like that.”

You charge, call out for your teammates even though you’re not the team leader. Which is a bunch of bullshit, because said team lead is already long gone, eyes glazed over as he’s caught in a Genjutsu.

“Scramble.” You yell to the other remaining member. “Don’t let him catch you in a Genjutsu.” 

You don’t get another word out after that, too busy to deflect each stroke of the massive sword the guy in front of you is wielding.

He’s got a good arm, a better aim, and an almost manic grin on his face.

“You’re holding up good.” He declares, cocks his head to the side as he slides back. “You into Taijutsu?”

You huff as you slide back, use the short break to unseal a bigger weapon. “Cool sword you have there.” You call back. “Compensating for something?”

He laughs, loud and carefree. “I like you.” He declares. “You’re fun.”

“Fun enough to tell me what you’re doing here?” You ask, eyeing him a bit closer. Now that he’s not constantly moving, you can fully see his headband. He’s a former Nin of Kirigakure. His skin has a blueish tint, but his eyes, teeth, and the gill-like structure on his cheeks make him look even more like a shark.

“Did you bond too closely with a Shark?” You ask, sidestepping when he lunges forward. “Or are you into cosmetic surgery?”

“You think I’m good looking?” He asks, trying to swipe your feet out from under you. You jump and swing your own longsword down at him. He moves just in time, but you cut off the tiniest part of his sleeve, the fabric tumbling to the ground.

To a bystander, it would look like you’re about to beat him, but you know better. He’s trying to fool you. For all his fishy complexion, the guy fights like a cat. He likes playing with his food.

You’ve long lost sight of the street you’d been on when you met his partner. Your team is either dead or thinks that of you.

Without backup, this is going to be a hard fight to win.

And while you’re not one to lose hope, you’re not about flirting to get away easier.

“Well, how would you know that I’m into that sort of thing.” You throw back just as you swipe for his head. He blocks it, grinning widely back at you.

“Really? Well, what do you say? We get out of here and have some fun?”

You’re about to respond when a voice calls out from somewhere behind the trees.

“Kisame. Finish this.”

Kisame grunts in response, which reveals his name to you. When he swings his sword this time, you move back in time, but your feet hit a stray root and you lose your balance.

It’s such a stupid mistake, one that will surely cost you your life.

You tumble to the ground and throw up your sword to block his. Your right elbow awkwardly hits the ground and you cry out without really meaning too, managing to roll over and jump up just in time to deflect another stroke of his sword. Your right arm is pretty much useless now, but you refuse to give up. A few more moves and you’re cornered against a tree. Your left arm shakes with the full weight of your weapon and blood is running down your right arm where he’s now managed to cut you. Your own headband lies somewhere close, cut off by another close strike of his sword. Your hair falls around your head like a halo and you’re panting.

“You’re tried already?” You ask him when he moves slowly toward you. “I could keep going like this all day.”

He grins. One more stroke and your own sword is on the ground, his body and his sword caching you in. You move to grab a Kunai, unwilling to give up, but he’s faster.

His face is so close, you can feel his breath ghost over you. 

“You need to work on your balance.” He says, his eyes moving over you. “That was a stupid mistake.”

You snort. “Thanks. I’m going to take it into account when I get back to training later.”

His grin widens. “Really?”

“Sure.” You try to cross your arms, but it’s impossible, not just because your right arm won’t move, but because he’s so close now, he’s almost pressed against you.

This, this is the moment you should see your life flash before you. 

You’ve been close to death before, but never like this. Kisame looks like he’s not done playing, eyeing you like he’s waiting for something.

“How thick is your head?” You ask.

He grunts in surprise.

“Why’d you ask?”

“If I headbut you, I could get out of this.” You tell him, your feet already moving you into position. He throws back his head and laughs, just as loud and carefree as he did before.

“You’re really something.” He says when he looks back at you again. You’re just about to do it, when he moves instead. Kisame leans in, ghosts his lip over your jaw so quickly and almost… gently, almost like the thought of a kiss instead of the true gesture, and then he steps back again.

“Keep up the training.” He says, putting his sword away as if you’d been doing just that. Training. “I don’t want it to be boring when I come back for you.”

You stay there, frozen against the tree, until he’s long gone. The ghost of his kiss still tickles your jaw.

Did that really just happen?

-

The next time you meet Kisame, half a year has passed. 

You’d been promoted to a Jonin - finally - even though some voices still don’t believe that you really fought Kisame Hoshigaki and came back alive.

You don’t think they’d believe you more if you told them about the kiss, so you keep that a secret.

This time, you’re alone, no teammate in sight, when a distinctly blue hand grabs your arm and pulls you from the street into the shrubbery.

You fight for about an hour, a back and forth of hits and strokes, until your top is barely hanging onto you, and his coat is shed into a million pieces.

He’s grinning, 

“You worked on your balance.” He declares, ramming his sword into the ground. “And your stamina?”

“Fuck you.” You spit out, but there’s no venom behind it. You’re still fighting the smile pulling at your lips. “My stamina was always this good.”

Kisame smirks. 

“Really?” He asks and there’s something dangerous in his voice now. You don’t dare to lower your sword. 

“Do I get to leave today?” You ask, masking the thrill in your body with an almost bored voice. “Or do you have plans?”

“Oh, I have plans allright.” Kisame snorts, “There’s a river close by.”

You furrow your brows. “What’s that supposed to mea-” You halt, frozen in surprise when he pulls off his shirt with one fluid motion and flings it into your direction.

You’re used to Shinobi bodies. Trained abs and strong arms. Usually, those muscles are covered in scars, but Kisame’s skin is a milky blue, unmarred in every place you can see.

Kisame clears his throat pointedly and your eyes snap up to his. The grin is wearing tells you that he’s not only caught you staring, he’s watched you do it the whole entire time.

“You coming?” He asks and moves, away from you and the scene of your fighting.

If anyone in Konoha asks - but you doubt they will - you did not skinny dip with a Rogue Nin instead of completing your mission.

If anyone asks, you got pulled into a Genjutsu, unable to free yourself for multiple hours. Your top is shredded? Well, that must have happened while you were under the influence of said Genjutsu.

You will never tell - not that anyone in Konoha would believe you - but you’d never known that swimming could be as thrilling as you’ve learned today.

The cold water is invigorating and fighting in it is both difficult and easy at the same time.

A punch that would break your bone on land feels almost like a caress, but the swift movements you’re used to are reduced to a slow drag as water pushes back against your every muscle.

The best thing, however, is laying there in the cold water after the fight, letting it run over your warm muscles, well aware that Kisame is right next to you, just as naked as you, but completely careless as he tells you about the seven swordsmen of the mist like it’s a tale told to children. One of his hands is curled around your wrist as if to keep you from being drawn away.

At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, your head rests comfortably on his chest. You feel safe.

-

There’s almost a Routine to it now, one you’re not exactly proud of, but still unwilling to stop.

You don’t know how he does it, but he finds you, every single time your mission takes you away from Konoha.

There’s a certain threshold you must pass to make him appear, it seems, because if the mission doesn’t take you out far enough, you come back home without the usual gift of new cuts and bruises he usually brings with him.

You don’t know if anyone suspects anything. You’re not some famous Jonin - like Kakashi nor do you have some wild reputation - like Kakashi. Now that Kisame has layed off of killing your team members - that had been quite the discussion but you made it through - you seemingly run under the radar.

Until Genma fucking Shiranui decides to change that.

“Your fighting style is weird.” He points out one day. It’s all downhill from that.

“You know, there’s nothing wrong about being picky.” He comments when you shoot down some poor Chunin who thinks you’d love to date anyone just because you’re apparently single. Well, you are single, kind off. Kisame and you never discussed that kind of thing in between fighting and kissing and… skinny dipping.

“I agree.” You answer curtly. “Nothing wrong about being picky.”

“Mhm… But you know, most picky people don’t sneak off every time they’re on a mission outside of Konoha. Only to come back…” He makes a gesture that looks vaguely vulgar and you glare at him.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Yeah, well… Iwashi saw something….”

“Iwashi should keep away from the Sake.” You point out. “In case you haven’t noticed, he does see a lot of things that aren’t there.”

You leave after that, adamant about getting some distance between you and Genma. Only to be put on the same team with him two days later. And your mission takes you almost all the way to Kirigakure. 

.

It’s not a good idea to sneak away. Not when Genma’s obviously keeping an eye on you.

But you don’t doubt that Kisame’s going to find you anyway and this way you will at least keep your teammates alive. Even if some of them - Genma - don’t deserve it.

“Before we fight.” You say when you notice his Chakra Signature, “We have to talk.”

“Oh, do we?” He pulls Samehada from his back and twirls it around. “Can’t we talk while we fight?”

“This is important. Well, it’s important to me.” Your voice is thick with an emotion you don’t want to think about. Is it fear? You’re not sure.

Kisame’s quiet for a moment, eyeing his sword in the dim light before he rams it into the ground and takes the few steps necessary to pull you close.

“You’re important to me.” He says and digs his nose into your hair. “What’s bothering you?”

“I think we have to stop this.” You mumble into his chest, the wide collar of his coat tickling your cheeks. “Some of Konoha’s finest are onto us.”

His arms tighten around you. “So kill them and get it over with.”

You snort. “It’s not that easy, Kisame. I can’t just go around and kill others. That would make me a Rogue.”

“You made yourself a Rogue that day you kissed me.” He points out. You can’t see his grin, but you can hear it in his voice. He sounds so self-satisfied, you dig your fingers into your side.

“I know I can’t eat my cake and have it too, but do you have to point it out like that?”

“What do you wanna do?” He asks instead, voice a little rougher. You know that sound. It usually only comes out when he tells you about his past in Kirigakure or when he kisses you before you have to leave.

You sigh. “I think… if we don’t meet as often, we could… I don’t know, fly under the radar?”

“Or… and hear me out here… You could leave. I have a safe house not far from here. I built it before joining the Akatsuki. It’s a little secluded and we’d have a pretty calm life, but if we want, we can go up to the village and do some missions. It’d just be us and the pups if we want some. Or just us and the sea, training when we want to, missions when we need the exercise.”

You swallow thickly. It sounds too good to be true. It is too good to be true.

“I’m… I’ll… I’ll think about it, okay?” You offer and he nods into your hair.

For a long moment, no one speaks. But Kisame isn’t one for staying quiet and he pulls away first.

Without much flourish, he pulls the ring he’s always been wearing from his finger. He weighs it in his hand for a moment before he takes your hand and puts the ring on your thumb, the only finger it will fit on.

“If you encounter any Akatsuki members, this will tell them that you belong to me. I can tell you how to find my house and I’ll lay off. If you want to see me again, you’ll have to find me this time.”

There’s a thick lump in your throat that keeps you from speaking, so you nod and nod, forcing yourself to memorize his explanations until you feel certain that you will be able to find his house with your eyes closed. There’s no open water nearby and by now, you’ve spent so much time away from the others, you fear that Genma’s probably already looking for you. There’s no time for a last fight, or a last chance to feel the thrill of swimming with him.

-

Live in Konoha is different when there’s no distraction.

Training is so much duller without being able to look forward to a fight with Kisame. Comparing the safe practices of Konoha to the thrill of almost dying is unfair, but you can’t help yourself.

You’re not willing to part with your old life, but you’re not willing to like it either, it seems.

At some point, you even force yourself to go on a date, but you’re miserable the entire time and the guy doesn’t even notice it, asking when he can see you again when all you want is to gauge his eyes out or at least do something about his non-stop talking.

When a new mission takes you away from Konoha, you know Kisame will not show up. He hasn’t done that for the last three missions and you know him enough to know that he’ll stick to his word.

But you still find yourself packing most of your belongings into scrolls. Just in case, you tell yourself, as you write letters to the few friends you have. Just in case.

Kisame doesn’t show up. But Kirigakure does, in a way you hadn’t expected.

The boy is roughly five years old, Kunai ready even though he’s outnumbered.

“I won’t go back.” He calls out. You’re not sure what he means, but you don’t like the way Iwashi eyes him. 

“What a freak.” Aoi mutters to your left. His lips are curled in disdain.

The boy’s skin has the slightest grey tint. It could be malnourishment or something else, you’re not sure, but his eyes are what tells him apart. They’re big and purple, but their form is clearly animalistic, reminding you of… Kisame.

You swallow thickly as your mind races. 

When the first Kunai goes flying, the boy isn’t the one who’s throwing it. Aoi is.

You move on instinct, dodge the Kunai with your own. Behind your back, you can feel the boy quivering.

“What are you doing?” You hiss. “He’s a kid.”

“He’s from Kirigakure.” Aoi dismisses. “Only dead Kiri-nin are good Kiri-nin. You should know that.”

Iwashi eyes you from the side.

“Is this about your affair?” He asks, voice dripping with hatred. “Because if so, keep the kid and leave. We don’t want people like you in Konoha.”

The words are out before you realize it, but you know they’re the truth.

“If Konoha consists of people like you, I don’t want to be part of that.” You reach behind your back, hand open and offering. To your surprise, the boy takes your hand.

You’re gone before Iwashi or Aoi can mutter another comment.

Only when you’re miles away, do you dare to stop and get to know your new companion.

-

By the time Kisame finds you, you’ve made yourself a home in his house.

He’d not been home for some time when you arrived, leaving you and Shizuma

to clean up his mess. 

Like you’ve grown to know him, Kisame’s stealthy in his approach.

One moment you’re in the kitchen making dinner, the next he’s standing behind you, teeth bared at your throat.

Shizuma squeaks behind you as you giggle.

“You’re scaring the kid, babe.” You say and Kisame snorts and kisses your skin instead of biting it.

“What’s up with that anyway.” He mumbles into your neck, quiet enough that Shizuma might not be able to catch it.

“Met him on my last mission as a Konoha Nin. He was abused so badly, he ran away. Good thing he happened to run into me.”

Kisame halts and turns, eyes Shizuma who’s trying to hide behind the table.

“Can you swim, kid?”

“Yessir!”

“Show me.”

“Don’t throw him in!” Your words fall on deaf ears.

The Hoshigaki house is just a few meters away from where the water licks at the shore. Shizuma has barely made two steps out from the house before Kisame grabs him, pulls him up, and on his shoulder to squint at him.

“You don’t weigh enough.” He tells the kid matter-of-factly. “You got to eat more.”

“Yessir!” Shizuma squeaks out just seconds before Kisame flings him into the water. He follows suit a moment later and you huff, turn back to take the pot from the stove only to follow the boys into the water. You suppose Dinner can wait a bit longer.

-

About one year later…

Kisame’s snoring so loudly that the Dock shakes beneath him. The Sun is on its way to its resting place, its golden light caressing your husband’s face as it says goodbye.

Shizuma’s made himself a home on Kisame’s chest, curled into a ball that has significantly grown in size - and weight - over the last year. 

The only reason you’re not enjoying the last rays of sunshine with the boys is the squirming ball of energy in your arms.

You bite into your daughter's ear as if you’re going to eat it. She stills for almost a second before she starts moving again. Her hands find the necklace you’re wearing and she eagerly stuffs it into her mouth. If Kisame is any indication, you’ll have to lay off wearing it as soon as her teeth come in, but for now, you don’t have to worry about that yet.

“Do you want to see Dada?” You ask and walk down the small patch of grass between the house and the dock. 

Kisame’s snoring falters when you approach. He lazily blinks up at you, not bothering to move when he knows you’re capable of molding yourself around him.

“What’s the pup doing?” He asks, voice hoarse with sleep as he lifts one arm to tease his daughter. She bites down on his thumb the second it comes close to her mouth and you’re once again glad that she’s not yet in possession of a set of teeth.

“Did you find something?” You ask, eyeing the full bag that’s sitting next to his legs.

“Hmm…” He presses his pointer finger against the little one’s cheek until she releases his thumb with a wet ‘pop’. “The big guy found some cool shells he wanted to give you. Tuckered out the moment we got out.”

“You’ve been at it for hours,” you point out, heart picking up speed when Kisame smiles proudly, his other hand coming down to ruffle Shizuma’s hair.

“He’s a beast,” his voice is filled with fondness, the same he has for his daughter. And for you.

There’s a comfortable silence between you as you watch the Sun set completely. Shizuma is still asleep when Kisame gets up and lifts the boy with ease. 

“Let’s get inside,” He commands. “It’s getting cold.”

“Yessir.” You tease and he pulls you in by your arm to press a kiss against your mouth.

“You happy?” He asks roughly when he follows you back to the house, his free hand squeezing your hip.

“Always.” You answer and it’s the truth.

-

There are moments when your whole life flashes by.

And while you don’t want it to end anytime soon, it never looked better, flashing by.

[thehufflepuffavenger1]

The Grid Angel (3/?) M.V. x reader

Charles oh Charles

The vibrant lights of the city shimmered as Charles Leclerc and you stepped out onto the bustling streets. The post-race dinner had been filled with laughter and camaraderie, but tonight was different—it was just the two of you. The energy of the paddock had faded into the background, and the cityscape served as the backdrop for this unexpected chapter in the off-track drama.Charles, ever the gentleman, suggested a walk through the city. The neon signs reflected in his eyes as he spoke, "I thought a change of scenery might be nice. How about we explore a bit?"

As you strolled through the city streets, Charles continued to share stories, blending racing anecdotes with personal experiences. His easygoing nature and genuine charm made the evening feel effortless, and the initial awkwardness that often accompanies one-on-one encounters melted away.

As you reached a quaint café tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles suggested, "How about we grab a drink and just enjoy the night?"

The cafe's warm glow created a cozy ambiance, and the two of you settled into a corner booth. The conversation flowed seamlessly, covering a myriad of topics. It was evident that Charles was genuinely interested in getting to know you beyond the confines of the paddock.

As the night wore on, Charles, with a thoughtful expression, broached a topic that had lingered in the air like an unspoken secret. "You know, Y/N, I've enjoyed our time together. But I can't help but feel there's something on your mind."

You hesitated for a moment before admitting, "It's been a bit complicated lately, with all the attention and dynamics in the paddock. I didn't expect my off-track life to be this... eventful."

Charles nodded, understanding the complexities of life in the fast lane. "I get it. Racing is intense, and so are the relationships that come with it. But I want you to know that I genuinely enjoy your company, no matter where this leads."

The honesty in his words resonated, and you appreciated his sincerity. The evening continued with laughter, genuine conversation, and a shared understanding that sometimes friendships could be more valuable than romantic entanglements.

Later, back at the paddock, Max Verstappen was growing increasingly agitated. The post-race dinner gatherings, the friendly camaraderie—it was all getting under his skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that Charles Leclerc was becoming a formidable rival not just on the track but in his personal life as well.

As Max stewed in his frustration, he caught wind of your evening with Charles. The whispers and speculations in the paddock only fueled his annoyance, and by the time the next race weekend arrived, Max was on edge.Confrontation became inevitable when Max cornered Charles in the garage after a practice session. The air crackled with tension as Max unleashed his pent-up frustration. "What's your game, Leclerc? You think you can just waltz in and take everything, don't you?"

Charles, taken aback by the sudden outburst, tried to diffuse the situation. "Max, I don't know what you're talking about. We're just friends."

But Max, blinded by jealousy and the fear of losing something he didn't even fully understand, wasn't ready to back down. "Don't play dumb with me. I know you like Y/N. You've been trying to steal their attention, and I won't stand for it."

Charles, maintaining his composure, replied, "Max, I asked Y/N out because we enjoy each other's company. It's not a competition. If you have feelings for them, you should talk to Y/N about it."

Max's frustration reached its peak, and he shot back, "I don't need your advice, Leclerc. Stay away from Y/N. I won't let you ruin what we have."

With that, Max stormed off, leaving Charles standing in the garage, a mixture of confusion and frustration etched on his face. The pit crew as always, witnessing the heated exchange, exchanged worried glances, realizing that the off-track drama had escalated to a new level.

In the midst of the chaos, you, unaware of the confrontation, continued to navigate the complexities of life in the paddock. The Grand Prix season had become a tapestry of emotions, weaving together friendships, rivalries, and unexpected connections that transcended the confines of the race circuit.

As the next race loomed on the horizon, the paddock held its collective breath, unsure of how the off-track saga would unfold. The off-track drama, fueled by emotions and the unspoken tensions, had become as unpredictable as the races themselves, and the journey through the season promised to be a rollercoaster ride of highs and lows.

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@itsjustkhaos

[middleearthpixie]

Something in the Night ~ Chapter Eighteen

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.5k

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@sazzlep @night-ace

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

It was almost two in the morning by the time The Black Swan closed, and Nina looked forward to going back to the flat over on Stone Street, two blocks to the north, and getting some well-earned rest. 

She was taking out the last of the garbage when a dark figure emerged from the shadows. “Did you think I didn't recognize you?”

Nina spun about, jerking free the small dagger she kept tucked into her belt after the tavern closed, for just such an occasion. But then she realized she knew the low, growly voice and so did not swing the blade anywhere near Thorin, who wisely stood just beyond reach anyway.

“Are you mad, sneaking up on a body this way? I could have cut you to ribbons.”

Thorin moved into the path of the silvery moonlight. “I’m surprised you didn’t.” His expression neutral, he just held her gaze. “And, as you can see, I live, so that would suggest no one claimed the bounty on my head, doesn’t it?”

She scowled up at him. “I’ve work to do.”

But when she tried to move past him, he stepped into her path. She added a glare to her scowl. “Move.”

“You have no right to be angry with me, you know,” he told her. “I didn't betray you.”

She flinched at that. “And I didn't betray you, either.”

“Not for lack of trying, only for lack of courage.”

The dagger in her grasp was warm and light and it would take but a blink of an eye for her to swing and slit his throat. But, her hand remained at her side. “You’re right, Thorin. I lack courage. That would be the only reason, wouldn’t it?”

His eyes glinted dangerously in the silvery light. “I don't know about the only reason, but it would be the main one, to be certain.”

“So, that’s why you came back? To pick a fight with me? Does your wife know you’re here?”

“No. No. And she is not my wife.”

That his words brightened her spirits also irritated her to no end. She shouldn’t care, shouldn’t be either happy or relieved that he hadn’t married in the weeks since they parted ways. But at the same time, it had been only weeks since they parted ways. A royal wedding would no doubt take far longer to plan. 

And why did she care, anyway? She shouldn’t. 

But she did.

“But is she waiting for you? Does she know you’ve come in search of me?”

“No, she’s in Erebor.”

“Waiting for you.”

“Yes."

“Why are you here, then?”

A low sigh rose to his lips and he shook his head. “Honestly? I haven’t a clue. I wasn't expecting to see you here. Or anywhere, for that matter.”

“Well, I needed a place to live and to work until Esgaroth is rebuilt.” She looked up at him. He looked far less tired than he had the last time she’d seen him. Less angry as well. “Not that it is any of your concern.”

“I know but…” He glanced skyward for a moment, then met her eyes once more, “I’m concerned just the same.”

“Well, you needn’t be,” she told him, then drew a deep breath before adding the words that would hurt her to speak, “because you need focus on your life, Thorin. Perhaps that woman is not your wife, but you are together, aren’t you?”

Although she’d braced herself for his answer, in reality, nothing could have done that, for when he slowly nodded and said, “Yes,” she felt as if the word had punched her in the stomach.

“That’s good,” she told him, her voice soft and her eyes stinging. “She seems lovely and I wish you both nothing but happiness.”

“Nina—”

“I—I need to go home now and so do you, Thorin.” She backed away from him slowly, gesturing over her shoulder with one hand. “Take care of yourself and don’t go walking into any more ambushes.”

He started to reach for her, but then caught himself and lowered his hand. “And you take care of yourself, Nina.”

“I always do.” She turned away from him then, unable to really look at him any longer. It hurt her heart far more than she ever could have expected to see him and hurt even worse to be so close to him, but unable to do anything more than wish him happiness with his new love.

She forced herself to stride away from him, and when she heard the soft crunch of his boots on the loose stones in the alley, she pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. That crunch grew softer still, disappearing as she reached the far end of the street. Peering over her shoulder, the alley went blurry as tears filled her eyes at the empty space.

As silently as she could manage, Nina made her way down to that end of the alley, peering around the corner in time to see Thorin reached the edge of the city, where the road sloped down and across a wide plains that was slowly becoming green and lush with springtime blooms. She stood there for a long moment, just watching how the moonlight shone silver along his black hair, which tumbled halfway down his back in a long tangle of curls, held away from his face with a heavy silver ornament of sorts. She’d meant to ask him about that, about the runes and braids he sported, but somehow, having him naked and on top of her made her forget about that for a moment.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, quite possibly ever, she felt the need to follow him. So she did. Quietly. Keeping back well out of earshot or sight. She didn't know why she followed, only that something compelled her to do just that. 

A stone wall delineated the city’s borders, and at that wall, she stopped, peering down the slope of the hill leading to the main road down below. Thorin traveled alone, which made her uneasy feeling even stronger. For a king, he had little use for certain protocols, but even he had to know how foolish it was for him to travel alone. Especially at night. 

For a moment, it struck her how he much he risked in choosing to come see her. 

But then, in the distance, something in the distance caught her eye. Something above the road, moving through the pine and beech trees that studded the mountainside, and steadily descended from the ridge of lower mountains that helped form the basin in which the road sat. 

Orcs. Half a dozen of them. A scout pack, most likely. 

And that meant there was a good chance there were even more orcs not to far from Dale. 

She looked back down at Thorin, then back at the mountainside, and then turned to sprint back to the flat.

She burst into through the door, letting it slam hard against the wall, which in turn made Sigrid jump at least a foot. “Nina! What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have time to explain, but I promise you, I will later,” Nina called as she sprinted by Sigrid into her room. 

Her sword was tucked into the corner, out of sight unless one knew it was there to begin with, and alongside it was her quiver and bow. She armed herself, then sprinted back out, where Sigrid’s eyes went wide. “Nina? What is going on?”

“I told you, there is no time to explain. But I—”

“Will explain, I know. You’ve said that already. But where are you going?”

“The road to Erebor. I have to get there before they can get to him.”

“Before who can get to who?”

“Orcs to Thorin.”

“The dwarf king?”

“Yes. Now, I really do have to go!” Nina sprinted for the door, calling, “I will tell you everything once he’s safe!”

“But—”

Nina ignored the last protest as she broke into a full run and made way for the road. The urge to race at top speed, to get to Thorin before any harm could befall him had her barely touching the road as she darted down it toward Erebor.

Running was never one of her strengths, but the need reach Thorin before the scout pack did spurred her to ignore the burn in her legs and lungs, to ignore everything but him. 

“Thorin!”

He stopped and spun about. “Nina? What are you doing here?”

“There’s…” A stitch crimped her side and she bent in half as she fought to breathe through it. Hands on her thighs, she stared down at the rocky dirt road and tried again. “There’s an orc… an orc pack… Over…” 

She couldn't force any more words out, so pointed to the east, where now there came the crash of bodies forcing their way through foliage. 

Thorin must have seen for himself, for she heard the singing of steel being unsheathed and a hand wrapped about her forearm just before he dragged her behind him. “Go back to Dale,” he growled without looking at her. 

Before she could answer, the first arrow split the air, coming from the east to whistle just over Thorin’s head. 

She pulled her arm free from his grasp and in one fluid motion, drew an arrow from her back with one hand, her bow with the other, set the arrow against the rest, spun about and returned fire. The arrow found its mark with a sickening squelching sound, but she had no idea how seriously she’d wounded whoever it was she’d wounded. 

Her bow went back and she drew her sword as the pack reached them. 

She swung at the first orc to reach them, cleaving him in two at the waist. It had been a long time since she last wielded her steel and her arms let her know it, but she ignored the exhaustion that crept up toward her shoulders. 

“What are you doing?” He whipped about, taking the head off a second orc, which ricocheted off a third one that Nina then dispatched. 

“Do I really have to answer that?” Nina ducked and swung upward, severing a foul arm from an even fouler body. “How many are there?”

“Two more.” He whirled about, the Orcrist’s blade glinting blue in the moonlight. 

“Thank the ma—”

She never saw the orc emerging from the darkness, but she definitely felt its blade as it pierced the upper right side of her chest. In an instant, breathing became far more difficult and being tired had nothing to do with it. 

“Nina?”

The orc who’d run her through raised his blade and swung and would have taken her head from her shoulders, had her legs not decided at that moment to buckle beneath her. She hit the ground with a solid thud, letting out a cry from the pain, while her sword clattered into the dirt alongside her. No matter how she tried, she couldn't catch her breath and panic set in, black dots dancing before her eyes and her pulse thundered through her temples. 

She heard the clang of steel, the splatter of blood, smelled the rancid sour stench of orc blood, and then all went quiet. Dizziness swept through her, but she was terrified that if she closed her eyes, she would never open them again. She tried to move, tried to push herself up onto her feet, but she was just so lightheaded, and breathing was so bloody difficult…

Then, with a final squishing sound, the battle ended. The dirt shifted and a thick knee appeared before her. “Nina?”

Thorin’s voice was the sweetest sound and when he carefully eased her onto her back and she  let out an involuntary cry as fire tore through her, he gathered her close. “Shhh… you’ll be all right, mesmel.”

“What about you? Are you all right?” she managed to whisper. “Are there any more of them?”

“No. We felled the lot of them.” He carefully stood, cradling her close to his chest. “Stay still, and I’ll try not to jostle you too badly.”

“My sword, and my bow…”

“It’s the middle of the night,” he told her as he began moving. “And we need to get you aid. I’ll send someone out to gather them.”

She tried to push away from him, but was so lightheaded, she couldn't muster the energy needed. “I—I can’t breathe…”

“Worry not,” he told her. “We are closer to Erebor than we are Dale and Narnerra is the finest healer in this part of the world. You will be in good hands.”

She fought to draw breath, but it grew harder with each heartbeat. Her eyes were so heavy-lidded and tired, she had no choice but to close them. Thorin cradled her against him as if she was made of fine crystal and he was afraid he’d break her, and she sighed softly, her head coming to rest against his shoulder. The front of her tunic was soaked with blood now, warm and sticky, and when she tried to lift her right arm, a hot sting seared through her. 

“Be still,” he told her softly. “You’re bleeding badly but we are almost there.”

“And you… are you all right?” she managed to push the thick, sluggish words through her uncooperative lips. 

“I am fine.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Because of you.”

“I saw them just… just after you left…” Her thoughts were even slower than her words, muddier by the second and scattering as she fought to remain awake. 

“We will discuss it after Narnerra has put you back together.”

“Will… will I be—be allowed into Erebor?”

It might have been her imagination, but a low rumble that sounded like a soft laugh echoed against her. “I am the King of Erebor. No one tells me who is or is not allowed beyond her gates.”

She managed a smile. “I—I forget… a king… you are unlike any king I’d—I’d ever imagined.”

“I will take that as a compliment.”

“It… is…”

She couldn’t fight the exhaustion any longer. She was cold and shivering despite the pain wracking her, and she sank against him. “I… so tired…”

“Stay with me, Nina. Do not give in to the urge to sleep,” he growled, giving her a gentle shake that sent fire screaming through her. “Answer me, mesmel.”

“What… that word… I don’t… tell me…”

“I will tell you that as soon as Narnerra—”

“Puts me… back…”

“Exactly.”

“Thorin… I’m sorry…”

“We needn’t talk about that now. There will be time enough in the coming days.”

“I just…” she forced her eyes open and tears stung them as she gazed up at him, “I would never have done it.”

She managed to get it out in one sentence and that took the last of her strength. He tightened his arms about her and she felt something press into the top of her head. “Hush, mesmel. Again, we will discuss it come the morning.”

“I couldn’t…” she murmured, shaking her head weakly. 

The cold slowly faded. Her shivering slowed. She was so very tired now and so relaxed in Thorin’s arms as everything slowly faded to black. 

[herzzgeist]

1) The Stranger

Pairing: Zoro x fem!reader | Word count: 2.8k | Warnings: Cussing

A/N: To think, a swordsman is able to READ? Can you believe it? Me neither.

Dividers by cafekitsune

The scent of earthy and aromatic coffee wafts over to you, as you take in the warm and cozy atmosphere of the book store. It's times like these you enjoy the most. At this hour, the shop is hardly occupied, giving you the opportunity to fully induldge yourself in a good book and dwelve in the silence. Only the cracks and puffs of the fireplace echo in the back of your head.

All that ends to your chagrin, for a rather bothersome man enters at front, questioning the poor store keeper in a raspy voice: "Scuse me mister, I'm searching for a sake shop, which should be around here. Think I missed a turn." - "I-It's right across the street, Sir." Is he being serious?

Taking a close look at the stranger, you notice his hair immediately, green as a freshly rained upon meadow and three golden earrings glittering on his left earlobe. They clank with every move he makes. A scar vertically grazes over his eye, causing it to stay shut, right on the same side of his metallic jewelry, confusion apparent on his rather stern face.

It leaves you in slight abashment, to think this man to be quite handsome. Shaking those ill thoughts away, you go back to your read and continue where you left off. The front door closes again and you see the green-hair pass by your window in the corner of your eye. He idles for a second and turns to his right, walking along the village's streets. Strange. The sake shop is only a few feet before him, did he change his mind perhaps?

Syllable after syllable, you sink into the deep wonders and fantasies of your book and chuckle inwardly, enjoying the onholding humor and playfulness the author decided to weave within the lines. Then, another sound of the bell, being hit by the door's edge, tears you out of focus. To your curiousity, it's the same man you analysed just a few minutes ago.

"Are you sure it's around here?" - "Sir, it's only ten steps infront this book store. Literally.", you overhear the dialogue and decide to join in, still with your book in hand. "Pardon me for interrupting, but what seems to be the problem here?", your gaze switches between the green-haired man and the vendor.

Surprise plasters over the intimidating one's serious visage before you, not seeming to have taken any notice of you so far to your delibaration. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you await the expected answer of these two gawking men. "This imbecile here seems to be blind, not just on one eye." - "Oi, I was asking for directions, not pathetic jokes." His hand holds onto one of his three katanas, which are fastened on his red waist band. This man means bad news.

Before it escalates any further, you grab the agitated stranger's hand and lead him outside the shop, muttering in an angry huff, that going into a banter with random people isn't just pointless, it's unheard of. Unbeknownst to you, a blush crept over his cheeks by your touch, following you in all cluelessness.

You turn on your heels to face him, only to see the man knitting his eyebrows in an adorably disgruntled way. Honestly, it tickles you. With a light chuckle you prompt: "What? I'm showing you the way to the sake shop. Besides, I don't want you to destroy my favorite book store after all!" Clicking his tongue in protest, he replies in a deep rumble: "I don't need your help. And so what if there's one stupid book shop less."

Annoyed, you puff your cheeks and knock the three hundred pages of literature in your hand against his head, of course not with all your might, but just enough to leave a bruise. Exclaiming shortly with a deft 'Ow', he immediately holds his already growing, you might call it 'horn', on his forehead. Do you know, who you just 'injured' (Y/n)? Safe to say, the green-hair is not amused. Snatching the book out of your tiny grabbers, he flips through the pages: "I hope you're reading something about aggression therapy, 'cus I suggest you'll need it, woman."

Being the biggest bully of your nightmares, he thrusts the leather bound papers into the air, before you can reach it in your slowly faltering jumps, holding out for your belonging: "Give it back!" - "Not unless you apologise for that uncecessary nerd assault."

Nerd assault? Oh, the audacity. Crossing your arms you avert your furious stare elsewhere and deny his delusional claim. "Suit yourself, let me see what roils inside your little reader's head." Following the bookmark's edge, which looks strangely close to a swords heft, his fingers flick the pages to it's destination aside. Will you look at that, it is in fact a carefully crafted miniature metal katana, dull yet beautifully adorned with sword knots and engravings. The love for detail draws the stranger in like a moth to the flame.

Thus, the one functioning eye hovers over the paragraphs. One catches his attention the most.

Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love — Hamlet. Act II, scene 5

"W-Will you finally give it back?! This is embarassing enough!", you whimper while facepalming in disbelief, hiding the inevitable redness. Perplexion spreads over the green-head's face, reading those words.

Oddly enough, they move him in a way he wasn't expecting they could. Never was he the type to sit down and engage himself with mere letters being written down on paper, for he simply cannot fathom their importance. Why bother with the burden of collecting these dust catchers of knowledge, only to store them back in a shelf?

Noticing his absentmindedness, it was then, where you take the opportunity to grab your book and hold it to your chest, your arms pressing it close to your heart: "Are you done gaffing into my 'little reader's head'? Look, there's the sake shop, like I promised!" With your index finger pointed towards the long awaited ale cave, the man jarrs his head to return back to reality. Out of trance, he questions you in earnesty: "What is this about?"

You don't quite follow. His gaze focuses on the leather cover in your hand. In disbelief you explain: "Th-This? This is Hamlet." An awkward silence grows over both of you. Clearly, the matter of reading literature of such high class, isn't of this stranger's stature.

"You know - Shakespeare?" - "Doesn't ring a bell.", your jaw drops to the ground in sheer astonishment, negatively that is. To your dismay, a supressed giggle leaves you in skepticism. Lowly you add: "The William Shakespeare?" Once more, a nonchalant shrug answers your dumbfounded query.

Still gobsmacked, you shake your head to concentrate on the more important: "Sake". Giving the sturdy man a shove with both hands on his back, as strong as you can muster to make that pure mass of muscle move, you prod: "Alright, here's the shop you've been searching for! I have other things to attend to so-"

The green-hair's expression grimaces in uncertainty, not fully comprehending what the rush is about. Stuttering, he cannot even form a full sentence, always restarting with a muffled groan: "O-Oi, no wait- I- can we -" - "Sorry, got to run. Farewell, jade head."

Jade head? That is something he never heard someone call him before. Are you colour blind by any chance? Though it's not quite the shade you promptly announced it to be, nevertheless, he can't seem to deny to take a liking to that premature nicknaming. Smacking his lips in irritation, just thinking about the shitty cook calling him Mosshead, already sticks a sour aftertaste on his mind.

"Welcome! How can I be of service to you, kind Sir?" - "Give me your best you can offer.", he enters the sake shop and gets greeted by a cheery and dapper looking old man, proposing his guest a tasting of all sorts of just recently delivered wines and other none sake bevarages. Although he isn't that much into grape juice with a hint of promille, he decides to tag along, not seeing why he should decline such a temptious invitation. It's alcohol. Might as well buy a barrel of sake in the end, there's a chance this store is worthy of his tastes.

The golden orb dipped into the darkening horizon, engulfing the land and sea in blackness. Crickets chime in to a musical interlude and the stars light up the picturesque scenery. Lanterns flicker, their flames dancing in the soft breeze. The stranger's onyx eye lingers at the window, seemingly lost in day dreams. After nine glasses of potent wine, even a man of his caliber ceases to manage the impact, leaving him tipsy and slightly wobbly on his feet.

That woman he met today left an imprint on him. You. How come he wants to see you again?

Back outside, with a barrel of sake in tow, he stops at the entrance, right after exciting the shop. The alcohol hits him stronger than he likes to admit. This is the place where he last saw you, he actually remembers. Suddenly, a sharp spark on the ground lets him faintly gasp, stinging his eye.

Slowly inching closer to the shimmering object on the stone street, he kneels down, almost immediately recognising the shape. It's your katana bookmark. Letting his rough digits glide along it's tiny blade, he takes a close look at this little piece of art. Perhaps he could return it back to you? A tempting opportunity to meet you once more, if he ever will that is.

His gaze shoots up to the book store infront of him. There is still a dim light shining through the window. Could it be?

Hesitating, he props himself onto the barrel, which now serves as faithful brace for his only ever more enhancing staggers. In consideration of either risking it to peek through the glass or find his way back to the sunny, he musters  at the bookmark in his calloused hand in the end. There's no guarantee he will even succeed in reaching the book store's doorstep, due to his lack of 'way finding skills'.

Mayhaps he shouldn't have tasted all these different kinds of wine, now taking his head for a spin. The sheer amount of pressure thrumming at his skull is near to bursting this ruthless man's ear drums. A low belch emits from his chest, escaping his mouth through his slacked jaw. How utterly disgraceful. "Shit, that stuff's pret- ty strong.", a hiccup interrupts is spoken aloud thoughts, legs beginning to give in slowly but surely. If it weren't for the barrel's support, the green-haired one already might have hit the cold stone ground, face first.

A loud creak of a wooden door opening, coming from the book store across the street, startles the drunk stranger. After a quick glance, recognition curls his sloppy lips to a delighted smile, calling out in a huff: "Oi, nerdy girl!" - "Jade head."

Upon seeing the man, who you oh so eagerly tried to get rid of this afternoon, you roll your eyes in annoyance. He doesn't seem to have any urgent plans, explaining his carefree, more reckless, drinking. Light footsteps make a stop next to the alcohol induced fool. With a scoff, you let your lashes flutter at the drunk, asking if his tastes have been met. "Y-You could say that. That wi- ne hits - different. Didn't get to taste sake- though, so I just bought- a barrel.", rasping at you with occassional inward burps and hiccups, his onyx orb narrows at you, appearing suspisiously lecherous. You blame it on the wine, it's odor wafting in the air, the source wobbling before you as proof.

"Let me guess, do you need directions to an inn? To sleep off the inevitable hangover?", the questions roll off your tongue with a hint of mock, for he only answers with a smug grin: "Actual-ly, I'll need directions for- the harbour, Miss." The harbour? Furrowing your brows, you count two and two together. Is he - a pirate? That is rather bothersome, given the fact that he's drunk, not a very pleasant combination. A drunk pirate often leads to bad surprises, to which you're not keen on finding out, if he's that kind of heathen.

An amused snort reverbes from deep within him and he cocks his eyebrow at you: "I know what you're thinking. Y-Yes I'm a pirate and no I won't hu-rt you." Stretching out his hand to you, he shortly after starts an assertive introduction: "Roronoa Zoro. Swordsman and Pirate Hunter." Hesitation won't let you take hold of his oddly enough inviting looking palm, waiting for you to embrace yours.

Thus you decide to give in to your over attentive and cautious demeanor and shake this close to be trusted man's hand: "(Y/n). I- umm. I actually have no fancy title nor reputation to be proud of, so . ." - "Except nerd?" Propping your hands onto your hips you cackle sarcastically, accepting your fate with this tease of a swordsman.

Gaining back his strength and some additional confidence, he straightens himself from his trusty barrel and towers over you, flashing a wide grin. "Gotta say though, you're pretty, for a nerdy girl.", he says, surprisingly sober. It must be the wine talking. And is it just you, or does he inch closer to you, each time you blink your in fluster widely torn open eyes?

The stench of alcohol causes your nose to wrinkle in discomfort and you stutter like a little school girl, uncertain how to react to his insinuations. There are these ill thoughts again, of you deeming him to be quite the looker, a dreamboat if you're completely honest with yourself.

"W-We should get going! The harbour isn't exactly around the corn-" - "You're rushing way too hard. Why don't we just-", first he interrupted you with a low chuckle, leaning down to your level to drown in your deep e/c eyes, second however, a booming voice echoes in the distance, interfering him and his unknown to you intentions. It seems to be a man calling out for someone out there.

"Marimo! Where are you, you dumb wannabe swordsman?!", you hear the insults and curses coming your direction. To your notice, Zoro looses his composure, shoulders sinking and head drooping in defeat as he clicks his tongue audibly upset. Suddenly, a tall blonde man stands next to you, heart eyes flinging your way: "Why hello there! I am terribly sorry, if this bafoon made you feel uncomfortable! He's with me."

This seems to be one of the Pirate Hunter's crew mates. Confused you greet the dubious blonde. He flusters in a shy smile: "My lady, pardon this unexpected intrusion, but if you excuse us. This fool should be back with us at the ship. On the other side of this god damn isle." Earning a vexed groan from the one eyed man, he grits his teeth to the crew mate's obvious bickering.

Hinting the oblivious blonde, that you and him held a quite specific moment with 'subtle' signs such as clearing his throat and nudging his head towards you, his mate won't budge even once. Without question, he's not buying it. Grabbing the swordsman by his collar and heaving the barrel onto his shoulder, he pulls the staggering drunk after him: "Anyways, have a nice evening, lovely lady! Until we meet again!" - "For fuck sake shitty cook! Let go of me! Can't you take a hint you-" Cussed protests stopped by seeing you wave goodbye to the green-head being towed away.

Slightly confuddled you chuckle at the scene playing before you, recognising how the jade-head, you chose to call him, cannot hide a creeping blush on his usually stoic and confident expressioned face. Be that as it may, but did he come to realise how foward he was with you? The chemistry was extraordinarly palpable, that, you can't deny. Nevertheless, will you see him again?

This is the only picture Zoro is able to remember of this fateful day, meeting you for the first time. Or second if you will. The urge to cut down the curly browed idiot, who calls it his privilege to drag the 'greatest swordsman' away, grows ever so fleetingly, evident on the popping vein, appearing on the Pirate Hunter's temple.

The onyx coloured eye lingers to the distance. Something within him roils restlessly. Zoro can't put a finger on it, but he must find his way back to that book store. After all, he still carries your bookmark.

[burningblake]

Chenford + they have a d&m about their feelings

+ prompts: Chenford + "when did you fall for me?" / Chenford +She feels the same way / Chenford + you're my person

The jeep's engine rattles to a stop across the street of her apartment. It's past midnight, she's spent all these hours with him, and still she doesn't want to end their time together. He doesn't seem any eager to let her go either, which makes her beam at him. 

His hand moves from the speed lever to grab her hand. He intertwines his fingers with hers and gives her a soft smile. She doesn't know if her heart is ever going to get used to him leaning forward for a kiss, because once again it lurches in her chest, with the same accuracy that it did that first time in her apartment. 

His mouth is hard on hers, burning with all the anguish of even a brief goodbye. When their lips part and their eyes meet, there's only bare traces of that anguish in his gaze, and she can tell that he's guarding most of the power of his feelings for her. She knows by how her lips are still ablaze, her soul restless in the wake of his touch. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," he says earnestly. 

She turns her body fully towards his direction and rests her head back on the seat, her eyes glued to his. Her voice is barely above a whisper. "You know, I don't have to go upstairs right away. We can sit here for at least another hour." 

Tim slowly mirrors her position, relaxing into her gaze. "Does the cover story for today cover this transgression?" 

She smiles smugly. "What do you think? It's trivia night, I will simply claim it went until late." 

He shakes his head. "You're quite good at this." 

"Well, all that UC training has to pay off somehow." 

"No, you were good even before that." 

She tilts her head, raising her eyebrow. She doesn't know if she's ever going to get used to him praising her. 

He smiles. "If I didn't know better, I would think Lucy, and not Nova, was the one flirting with me back during your second UC mission."

His words leave her staring at him in quiet surprise. Because she remembers that part of the mission fondly, but she wouldn't have expected him to remember. It was around that time that she had started considering she might see him as more than a friend. 

She fixes his gaze. "Well, you didn't know better."

His expression slowly grows from confusion to surprise and then shock as her words sink in. 

"Come on," she says quietly, shaking her head, "even if it wasn't quite obvious at that moment, it certainly became obvious when I stayed at your place later." 

He's still speechless, and even though she feels out of her depth having started this conversation, she fires on, because she can't stop herself. "There was a moment, you hugged me and then we almost kissed. And then later, when you went to your bedroom, I couldn't sleep, I kept thinking that you were in the other room. I almost joined you." 

His eyes widen, his jaw slacks. He glances at her mouth, then focuses on her eyes again. "I can imagine what would have happened if you had. I mean, I would have probably told you that you were too vulnerable from Jackson's death and that you weren't thinking clearly."  His words hurt, even though they're talking about a hypothetical past. But then he continues, "But I was also restless that night, I fought with the idea of coming to you. So I don't know if I'd be able to resist you for long. I'd probably kiss you in a moment of weakness and then we'd both live to regret it in the morning." 

"Maybe," she concurs. "Or maybe we'd realize that Jackson's death uncovered some true feelings that already existed."

She looks into his eyes, waiting for him to confirm or deny that they did. 

Tim smiles lovingly and lifts his palm to stroke her cheek. "You've always been more in tune with your feelings than I've been with mine. It took me long to name my feelings for you. I denied even thinking about the possibility, because I was scared of what it would mean. I even tried to run away, choosing to be with a person that wasn't the least suitable for me, and even then I didn't want to admit that this was what I was doing. And then the truth came crashing on me. By that time, I was already too far gone to be able to understand how or when it happened."

She nods, smiling. "That's… a wonderful answer." 

He grins. "It's the truth." 

"I'm glad that we finally agree that Ashley wasn't suitable for you." 

He looks at her incredulously. "And Chris was?" 

"No. But that's not the point." 

They both laugh. Tim leans in and kisses her softly. 

When he pulls back, he whispers, "I am in tune with my feelings now, you know."

"Oh really?" 

He nods. "I came in full sync with them a few weeks ago, in fact, when I almost died."

It becomes incredibly silent in the car. She realizes that she's holding her breath. 

Tim's eyes move to their entangled hands as he speaks. "I mean, of course, I kept thinking that we still hadn't gone on our proper first date, but I also thought of… other key moments that I would miss experiencing with you." He looks upwards again and smiles, as though to lighten the heaviness of his words, but it's impossible. "Marriage, kids, grandkids. I realized then that you're my person, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with." His voice becomes almost a whisper and a knot appears in it suddenly. "Lucy, you're the love of my life." 

Her breath comes out with a sound that's half a choked whimper and half the happiest laugh. Her smile is so broad, her cheeks almost hurt. Tears rise up to her eyes, her entire soul pouring into them. 

She eases herself forward, until their foreheads are touching, her hand cupping his cheek. "I want all of that, too," she whispers. "I've never felt like this for anyone before." She gives him a nudge, holding his gaze firmly. "I love you." 

The happiness that registers in his expression is like nothing she’s seen before on him.

"I love you, too," he almost chants, before his lips are on hers again. 

His hands roam up and down her shoulders, as their kiss becomes a tangle of teeth and tongues and tears. They make out for so long, she loses track of time. 

This time, when he looks at her again, there's no filter there. 

Her thoughts fill with the uninvited memory of the desperation she'd witnessed on him early in their relationship, whenever they chanced on his wife. She couldn't understand someone loving another person with such force back then, let alone loving them more. 

Because the way Tim is looking at her now is more. It takes her breath away. And the craziest part is, she understands exactly how he feels. For the first time in her life, she feels the same way.

(masterlist)

[priohuq]

Okay, this is gonna be the kinda post that probably none of you follow me for, but you do follow me and now you must reap the consequences of that decision.

I've been watching Blood+ recently. It's an anime from 2005 vaguely based on Blood: The Last Vampire.

That's all the background context I care to give here, you have access to the same wikipedia I do.

Minor spoilers and major rambling follow. So if you like anime about girls killing monsters with a katana, maybe go watch it first. I'll wait.

Recent episodes (Here meaning, episodes I saw recently, regardless of actual release date) haven taken place in London/The UK. And, I was quite surprised at how accurately it seems to portray the UK?

Burger King, beer and soccer all exist internationally, but who the hell knows about Boots outside the UK? (If it's actually very well known then I'm about to find out just how sheltered from humanity I am and cry a bit.)

I also noticed some of the background noise on the streets of London seemed to actually have English voices in it?? Could have just been a stock sound effect, or maybe one of the creators went so far as to actually go to the UK and recorded some audio while there. Either way, it's a level of detail I really didn't expect to hear. I also have no idea how to look into what actually happened behind the scenes, if such things are on record.

Anyway, I get to episode 35 and I see this building.

The sign is way too blurred for me to read, but something about this building makes a spark in my brain. The scene that follows this shot, taking place inside the building, suggests that it's some kind of taxidermy museum. I'd recently had a conversation with a friend, about a museum I'd get taken to as a kid, which also had a lot of taxidermy in it. So I guess it was on my mind. (If you're curious, it was the Horniman museum. The walrus there taught me how to fear.)

My autism fully engaging, I take to google maps to see if this is even a real place. I went through EVERY MUSEUM IN THE UK with taxidermy in it. There were actually only like five, it really didn't take long.

It exists. Sadly lacking the sign with a zebra on it. It's the Natural History Museum at Tring and it contains dead things.

While looking into this place on wikipedia to write this up, I found that until 2007, it was called the Walter Rothschild Zoological Museum, which seems to match what the unreadable blurry screenshot above might say. The museum was initially the private collection of a Lionel Walter, 2nd Baron Rothschild, who happened to also be a big fan of zebras it seems.

My guess is that at least one person involved in the production of Blood+ had been to the UK, maybe even this museum in particular, and it ended up in the show. Again, I haven't looked up behind-the-scenes info, and don't even know if it's on record.

Something I do find interesting, is that in my admittedly very brief google searches, I couldn't find any references to this. Part of the problem is that "Blood" is also a word, so my searches were pulling in some medical related results. But even the Fandom (ick) wiki for Blood+, in the synopsis for the episode, just calls it a museum. That same wiki has pages for the Metropolitan Art Museum in New York, and the Vietnam History Museum in Hanoi, as they appear in other episodes.

I doubt I'm the first person to find this information, but I guess the cross section of people who saw Blood+, people who recognise or hunt for British museums they see in anime, and people who talk about these things on the internet is very small.

Seeing real places in media can be fun. I once spent a few hours looking up locations shown in Digimon Story: Cyber Sleuth on google street view. On a different occasion I came across a collection of google map pins for the different locations in Steins;Gate.

I don't know how popular Blood+ was, or how good this museum is. I just find it weird that I couldn't find any record of this connection at all. But it's also more than possible that people did notice it, and I just couldn't find it. It feels like it should at least be a poorly worded item on an IMDB trivia page.