#I'll be your shelter when it rains

[teathattast]

my heart the red sun your heart the moon clouded

i could go crazy on a night like tonight

when summer's beginning to give up her fight

and every thought's a possibility and voices are heard

but nothing is seen

why do you spend this time with me?

may be an equal mystery

[analyticallyminded]

tag drop 6/?

relationships (if we don't have a tag and u want one just lmk i plan on giving more people tags i'm just bad at coming up w them on the spot)

[analyticallymindedaa]

tag dump bc tumblr ate my tags part 6?

(relationships edition. if our muses don't have one of these and u want one lmk)

[tgirlwithreverb]

I saw that post about what to do if you're homeless again (the one that starts by telling you to spend all of your money on motel rooms lmao) anyway, here's a few thoughts, specifically for trans girls, cuz I don't really care otherwise tbh:

1) plan ahead, most trans girls are in precarious housing situations, you will have a much easier time when it falls apart if you already have a pack with most of the gear you need in it. Also, if you find yourself in a situation where you cant make rent, dont pay part of it, spend that money on gear, pocket the rest and leave, youll have a much nicer time. Look up your local eviction laws, you have plenty of time. (Gear list at the end)

2) travel! If you're in Arizona in May, leave. it's about to be hot as hell. If you're in Michigan in October, leave. It's about to be cold as hell. If you're in a big city, leave. It's way easier to be homeless pretty much anywhere else. Amtrak is cheaper and more comfortable than greyhound, hitchhiking is free and easy, if you're alone it's not that much slower than the previous two, and it's more fun, and sometimes people buy you food or whatever or give you money. I promise it's not scary and you're entirely capable of doing it, no matter who you are. 95+% of people who will pick you up are very nice. All you have to do is take the bus out of town, as far down the highway you can, to an exit with a truck stop if possible, then just stand on the side of the road with your thumb out until someone picks you up. You can stand at the bottom of the ramp(on the highway) near where the merge lane ends or at the top of the ramp(where there's usually a traffic light), the former is more likely to lead to cop interactions but will maybe get you a ride faster, check on hitchwiki for how the cops are in the area. don't be afraid to take a commuter bus or Amtrak to get out of a shitty cop area

3) skip shelters if you can (they are very occasionally a decent place to get stuff from) and encampments, good places to sleep include the trees near railroad tracks or highways, wooded areas behind shopping centers, sections of parks without paths, overgrown empty lots. Hang a tarp above you if there's an appreciable chance of rain, there's tons of YouTube tutorials on how to do this, maybe I'll make a post about what I usually do some day. There are many habits more fun than motel rooms, save your money for them lmao.

4) get on food stamps. This is easier in some places than others, but it makes the whole thing a lot easier. Just tell them you're homeless, if they don't give you a card the same day, you can probably ask to pick it up from that office, alternatively some drop in centers/day shelters can receive mail for you, or you can have it sent to general delivery(USPS service, look it up)

7) libraries are great for charging your phone and using wifi, but also keep an eye out, plenty of random outlets on the outsides of buildings are also powered

5) dumpster. sidewalk trash cans, Aldi, Einstein's, trader Joe's, pizza places, etc. You need to develop a bit of a sense for it but it's an easy way to get cooked food or travelling food or expensive food without spending resources. Also it's fun.

6) water is free, go into the bathroom of any gas station or grocery store in America(offer not valid in most big cities or on the west coast, but in that case just go to the library) and fill up your water bottle

8) hygiene notes: truckers get free showers from chain truck stops(loves, pilot/flying j) go there and ask them. convenient if you're hitchhiking, also you don't need to shower 3 times a day, really, you'll survive. Ditto with deodorant. Take care of your teeth though. Take your socks off every. day. Change them consistently. Safety razors give a good shave, work well without adequate water pressure, and the replacement blades are very stealable, they're kind of heavy though. Walmart makes these electric razors for women that take AA batteries and are pretty light but give a worse shave, also they kinda go through batteries, pick whatever works for you(cartridge razors suck)

9) traveling food notes: peanut butter is great, tortillas and bagels travel pretty well, tuna packets are pretty good protein for traveling(the ones with rice and beans or whatever are nice since theyre often the same price as the regular), condiment packets are free, hot sauce makes everything better, and mayo goes well with tuna and has a bunch of calories in it, salad dressing packets are free from truck stops and work well turning the Walmart shredded vegetable packages (labeled for making into slaw, next to the bagged salads) into a salad with real vegetables(not iceberg lettuce) in it or mixing in with tuna packets for even more calories than mayo

Gear world:

Necessary items(in order of importance): a gallon of water carrying capacity(an Arizona jug or other twist top jug is conventional, but a bladder+arizona bottles also works), a tarp(larger than 6'x9', not brightly colored), a hank of parachord, a sleeping bag (20° rated, synthetic insulation), a backpack with a padded hip belt(at least 50L, no more than 75), rain gear(a rain poncho might cover your pack too, a rain jacket can help with wind when its cold, a trash bag inside or outside your pack can keep it dry, a plan to watch the weather and not get caught also works), a z-fold foam sleeping pad, three pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear (at least one pair of boxer breifs strongly recommended if you arent incredibly skinny), a decent pair of shoes with good arch support, a functional jacket(skip if you got a rain jacket before), a base layer(wool or poly, absolutely no cotton)

Convenient items: a sleeping bag liner(cotton free, keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer), gallon zip locks to pack your stuff in(helps keep it dry and organized), no more than one change of clothes(as light as possible), a multi-tool(can opener, pliers, wire cutter), lighter(burning rope ends etc), spoon, floss and needles for patching

[writeroutoftime]

making me crazy

pairing: tyler owens x reader (requested by: @missminnietwoshoes)

summary: while out on a chase with your team, a storm turns more dangerous than expected. of course, you all set to getting as many people as possible to safety, but you quickly find yourself caught in the middle of the storm.

words: 0.8k

a/n: my first tyler owens request!! when I say this man has a chokehold on me - I'm not joking! also, so sorry for the delay, but please enjoy!! (part 2 should be coming your way shortly!!)

oOoOo

Wind whipped around you, your hand protecting your eyes as you tried to make out what was going even just a few feet in front of you. The storm had come out of nowhere, meaning no one in town was prepared to take cover. Just passing through, you, Tyler, and the rest of your crew made it your mission to direct as many people to safety as possible.

Your heart broke seeing the devasted look on people from the town as they tried to keep calm despite the impending doom. No one had predicted destruction on this level, and now there was so time to do anything but survive.

The storm grew worse as you saw the twister grow closer and closer to where you stood. A quick glance over your shoulder told you that the rest of your team had started to make their way to safety. You all had done as much as you could with the little warning you had.

As you turned to run, you heard a whimper. Scanning the desolate street, you noticed one more person looking as though they were trying to get something out from underneath a porch.

"Hey!" you shouted over the rind, running towards them. "You have to get out of here, get somewhere safe."

The woman looked up at you, eyes shining with tears. "My dog, he got himself stuck under here trying to hide, and I won't leave him."

Distantly, you could hear Tyler's voice calling out, trying to find you. With determination, you turned away from him and nodded at the woman. "Okay, it looks like his paw is stuck. I'm gonna lift this plank and you get him out." you commanded, knowing you only mere minutes to make this work.

Counting to three, you lifted the pile of debris just enough to allow the dog to scamper free and jump straight into his owner's arms. The look of pure relief and joy on her face made it all worth it. However, the peace didn't last long as you were brought back to the fact that you were still in the middle of a very dangerous storm.

"We have to get out of here! Take him and just keeping running until you hit the shelter!" you shouted over the rain that drenched your both, so much so that you felt the chill deep in your bones. "Stay low and don't stop. I'll be right behind you."

She looked terrified but nodded, and then she was running across the street towards safety. You took a breath and moved to follow her, trying to see through the rain while avoided obstacles on the ground and flying through the air. It seemed luck was not on your side, though, as your foot caught on a piece of debris.

Before you knew it, you were sent skidding across the ground. Your palms and knees, newly scrapped, stung, but the worst was the throbbing pain from your ankle. Pushing yourself off the ground, you tried to take another step forward and felt your weight buckle to the ground once more.

"Fuck." you swore, daring to look back at the storm that inched closer with every passing second. There was no way you could make it to any semblance of shelter with this new injury. Tears mixed with the rain that whipped itself against your face as you resigned yourself to your fate.

Just as you closed your eyes, you heard your name in the distance. Jerking up, you could barely make out Tyler's figure in the storm as he shouted over and over on the slim chance you could hear him.

"Tyler!" you shouted back, your last-ditch effort to make it out of this storm.

As if tuned in only to you, Tyler's eyes met yours across the way and he suddenly began to sprint in your direction, arms and legs pumping furiously. You had never seen that look of anger and desperation in his eyes as he slid to the ground next to you.

"What were you thinking? Why are you still out here?" he shouted, cupping your cheeks between his rough hands.

"M-my ankle. I'm not gonna be able to get anywhere in time." you hurried to explain.

Tyler didn't give you a chance to speak further or urge him to go off on his own. Instead, he took one look at your ankle, glanced at your face, then steeled his nerves. One of his hands came under your knees while the other cradled your back. He then sprinted back the way he came, holding you close, trying to shield you from any more harm.

Finally, safety was in your sites and Boone stood by any open storm cellar, frantically urging you and Tyler to move faster. You didn't dare look over Tyler's shoulders, rather you let your face hide in his chest. It was only when you heard the slam of the storm cellar doors and no longer felt the rage of the storm against your skin did you look up.

Safe, you thought to yourself. You were safe and so was your team. Now all you had to do was wait out the same - and deal with the rage that still simmered on Tyler's features.

oOoOo

a/n: to be continued! (featuring more angsty and a confession!)

[hydrobunny]

meet me in the pouring rain

tags: comfort, established relationship, aftermath of fights, happy ending!!!!!

obviously, you two had your fights. it would be stupid to think you didn't: stupid to assume the two of you were constantly perfect.

you curl up by the door of your bedroom, trying to stop yourself from crying.

you hated this. you hated how you had expected anything different. of course sae itoshi would choose football over you. it was what he had been doing for his entire life.

but why had you thought today would be something different? just because it was your birthday?

you had asked him if you two were doing anything so excitedly, so stupidly. he had looked at you with the blankest expression you had seen.

and of course when you tried to press the matter, he had snapped at you that he was busy- to not bother him before practice.

and the words had spewed out of your mouth, telling him to get on with it and get out of the house.

sae hadn't argued further, merely blinking at you in vague confusion before slamming the door behind him.

he hadn't returned for lunch. and with the sheer amount of rain outside, you knew he couldn't be practicing still. (well, you mused, there was a slight chance.)

but that meant he had to be taking shelter somewhere away from your home, somewhere with other people.

lightning crackled outside. the rain was really coming on in droves now. you curl further into a ball and listen to your own heartbeat, steady and calming.

the notification sound of your phone was a scare, and you flinch, hard. you look around for the source of the noise. the dings continue on and on.

when you finally find your phone, you're stunned to see the contact sae <33

the messages are a clear change from his usual short ones, practically an entire chain of frantic words. it's a drastic change compared to the dead silence he's been giving you today.

y/n

fuck i'm sorry

i didn't mean what i did in the morning

i forgot the date i'm so sorry

y/n?

i'm outside. you don't have to come if you don't want to. i'll stay.

you stare at that last message. sae was-

you run to her window, heart rate rising. you can barely see past the sheer amount of rain slamming down.

but sae was there. you can make out his vague form, the rain unforgivably landing on top of his head.

you almost fall down the stairs with how fast you run down. you skid to a stop in front of the door.

your hand turns on the knob.

“sae,” you breathe out.

sae looks at you with a bouquet of soaked roses and a small box, looking more like a drowned rat than the boyfriend you knew.

“you're going to get sick,” you sputter. “what were you-”

“i love you,” sae interrupts, eyes glowing with an intensity unfamiliar to you.

you've only seen that look on the field, when he's truly concentrating.

"i'm so fucking sorry," he continues. "i need you to know that you are my first priority. i know i don't act like it- but you're the best thing that's happened to me."

your mouth hangs open, your voice weak. "come inside."

he does. you gently take the roses from him and place them on the table. he pockets the box, and you don't question him.

sae waits patiently for you to speak.

"i'm sorry too," you finally say. "i shouldn't have-"

he grabs onto your hands, squeezing reassuringly. "don't apologize. im the one who forgot. it's not-it'll never be your fault."

you swallow. "i love you. but you should really go change-"

"before that," sae digs back into his pocket and pulls out the neatly wrapped box. "here."

the wrapping paper gives easily underneath your nails. you eye the box warily. it's clearly jewelry, so you crack the thing open-

"jesus christ-" you fumble the box.

sae catches it easily, raising one eyebrow.

"you got a ring?"

"it's not what you think it is." he hums, gently taking the ring out of the box. it's a pretty little thing, all delicate and fragile looking. "my proposal wouldn't be this tacky."

you stare at him. "so the ring is..."

"a promise," he answers as he slides it carefully onto your finger. "for a better one eventually."

the blood rushes to your face immediately. sae doesn't seem phased at all, even if he's just confessed that he's going to marry you.

"i-"

sae sneezes. once, and then twice.

you grab his arm. "okay. you are getting into some warm clothes."

he frowns, but follows you up the stairs anyway.

when the two of you reach the bedroom, you stop him by the door.

"you know, i only wanted two words."

his head tilts almost imperceptibly, confusion leaking-

sae smiles. "happy birthday."

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.2k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper masterlist.

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

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

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

[yueliie]

🎐.お茶 — your tears ft s.haruka, s.hayato, u.hajime

୨ৎ — ♬ ⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ : yue is typing... ✉! ୨ৎ — ↻ SYNOPSIS : when you are having a bad day, how does he comfort you when you're at your lowest? ୨ৎ — ♯ GENRE : fluff, fem!reader ୨ৎ — ↠ NOTE : this is my first time writing for windbreaker and I haven't finished the anime yet but I fall in love with the series almost immediately so yeah, I couldn't help myself but want to write this fic:DD pls go easy on me though, I'll read the manga after i finish the anime first so feel free to request anyone really even if I don't know them yet!! also if anyone wants to talk about their selfships like me rn, PLS TELL ME THE DETAILS SJHDKDVF I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW OVER SOME TEA AND COOKIES, YEAH?? also hopefully I did their characteristics right! Sorry if some of them are ooc TT ୨ৎ — ♪ REMINDER : reblogs & likes are appreciated, its help to motivate me, thanks for your support~ ୨ৎ — ► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : your tears ft s.haruka , s.hayato & u. hajime...

۫ 🎐.お茶 — sakura haruka

꣑ৎ Sakura doesn't know how to comfort someone properly, with his past, how can he knows how? But then he saw you by the river in distressed mood.

۫ ꣑ৎ He widen his eyes when he saw your tearstained face, slightly on edge but approached you with careful steps.

۫ ꣑ৎ Then, he quietly sits down next to you, and didn't mutter a word, scared of upsetting you even more when you were already emotionally unstable.

You immediately knew it was Sakura when he sat down next to you yet instead of asking you why, he stayed quiet. He probably sense that you didn't feel like talking at the moment, whatever the case is, you were glad he didn't question why you were there in the first place.

His presence was more than enough, it was better having someone there instead of crying alone, it was better than nothing. Then, you felt a sudden weight on you, it's caught you off guard that you looked at him with awestruck.

"I-It's not like I want to help you or anything—" His cheeks flushed red, his eyebrows frowned but he was stumbling over his words just trying to get the message across, it was a funny yet endearing sight to witness.

Your lips curled upwards, letting out a few sniffles, clutching his gakuran jacket close, the remaining of his warmth was still lingering yet you found it so comforting, a feeling that was hard to describe in words but if you had to compare it to something...that warmth feeling was fairly similar to when you drink hot cocoa on a cold day.

You didn't says anything, instead you place your head on his shoulder, flinched at the sudden weightiness on him, then you whispered "Can I stay like this for a moment...?"

"... whatever " He tch'ed, the tips of his ears turned red.

🎐.お茶 — suo hayato

۫ ꣑ৎ It was raining when Suo found you, sitting on the children swing set, completely drenched from the heavy rain. However, you didn't make an effort to move and look for any shelter nearby.

۫ ꣑ৎ He approaches you slowly, not to startled you with the announcement of his presence and when he was close enough, he puts his umbrella over you.

۫ ꣑ৎ Shocked, you snapped your head towards him with widened, alerted eyes and that was when he knows that you were crying your heart out in the rain.

"...Suo?" You blinked your eyes in disbelief, distressed and suddenly you found yourself choking on your words, trying to make up an excuse for your drenched self "I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were here..."

You tried to stand up but when you did, your legs buckles and in a matter of seconds, a sickening sense of no longer being supported by your feets took over, you suddenly found yourself facing forward.

Then, you felt being picked up by someone, you didn't need to look up to know that it was him who caught you from falling. However, the realization of your position was... embarrassing per say, with your face pressed against his clothes and the ways he has his hands on you, he was holding you as if you were glass that could break from a small impact.

He was supporting you so dearly and cherished so preciously that the umbrella he was holding earlier was long forgotten now, if by any chance that a random passerby walked in and see this, they would think that it was a couple hugging each other in a public park. The thought cause your heart to pick up the speed.

"I-I'm sorry... because of me, now you're—" You tried to speak up but a finger was pressed against your lips, successfully stopping you in your tracks.

"It's fine, for now, let's get out of this rain, alright?" He grabbed a hold of your hand and gives a chaste kiss on your ring finger "We can't have you catching a cold now"

🎐.お茶 — umemiya hajime

۫ ꣑ৎ That day, when you weren't feeling your best, you didn't know why the first thought you had was to go to the rooftop where Ume was tending to his garden.

۫ ꣑ৎ When he heard the loud creaking left behind by the metal door, he snapped his head towards you with a bright smile but then, his smile dropped when he saw the state you were in.

۫ ꣑ৎ He immediately dropped everything he was holding and approached you with open arms, gently bringing you close to his chest.

He smelled like soil, distinctive, earthly scent that comes with and after the rain. On any other days, you don't like it but today, for some odd reason—It was a pleasant odor and being in his arms was so... comforting like it was just right for you to be there.

Then, with a gentle voice, he whispered a couple of 'its okay' 'you did good' , you could feel his large hand patting your back as his warm breath tingled your ear as he continues to says those sweet words that you need to hear and before you knew it, your vision blurred with tears.

"Shh... It's okay, you don't have to talk about it" He looked at you with kind eyes, the same ones he always gives whenever you make eye contact with him yet there was something in that blue pools of his always have this weird calm effect on you.

You tried to say a few words but found yourself choked on it instead, your hands clutched onto his shirt tightly, refuse to let go as if he was your lifeline, like you couldn't breathe without him there with you. He brushed your bangs away to reveal your forehead before placing a soft yet quick kiss.

Your cheeks burned, flustered as you pressed your face against his chest and there come a series of pleasure chuckles, that earthly scent, the sound of his heart beating, the feeling of his arms around you and the slight weight of his head above yours... Everything about him was soothing, just being around him was enough to wash away all of that pent-up emotions that bottling up deep inside you.

And suddenly, you didn't feel like crying anymore.

© yueliie 2024. do not steal, copy, repost, edit, translate or use my works.

[buckgasms]

Ok let's talk about Dark!Cowboy Bucky shall we......

Expect dark themes ahead y'all 🧡

Here's what I'm thinking:

He is a bounty hunter in the early days of the wild west and sadly you have a bounty out on you.

Maybe you were caught up in a crime but you are really innocent, but no one seems to care about a young woman, or the truth for that matter.

You already felt like the unluckiest person on earth, but when you overhear in a bar one night that the infamous bounty hunter Bucky Barnes is looking for a pretty little runaway, your stomach churns. And it hasn't stopped since.

🧭

Bucky hates the rain. It makes things so much harder. His horse is more grumpy and less willing to obey. People don't hang about to share tidbits of information. It's harder to get a drink.

However, it also makes his prey act silly. Especially pretty girls on the run. They aren't made for the rain. And they are so easy to spot, running across open fields in a dirty white dress, seeking shelter in a barn.

He chivves his horse onward, a wry smile on his face.

🧭

You are sitting on a bale of hay, wringing out your hair when you hear a horse approaching. Your blood runs cold as you hear the door open. You dash as quietly as you can into a dark corner and hold your breath as a man walks his horse in, talking to it gently as he guides it into a stall.

He removes his hat, gloves and shrugs off his wet coat.

"I know you're in his little darlin'"

Your eyes widen and you squeeze your arms tight to keep you from moving.

""If you come out now, it'll be easier. I'll put in a good word for ya..."

You debate it, but you can see him through a hole in the wood. And his face, however handsome, is plastered with a cruel smile. You don't believe him.

He huffs after a moment of silence. Looking around the barn, assessing how good it'll be for the night. He sits down and starts running a thin rope through his fingers.

"Gettin impatient now sweetheart... Don't like to be kept waitin..."

You shiver in the cold, your body dripping with sweat and rain. Maybe you could run out while he was distracted? You were pretty fast and you really had nothing to lose at this point.

You took a quiet, shuddering breath before dashing out from your hiding space. Despite feeling the wood of the barn door it was futile.

A tight, sharp object wrapped around your ankle and you felt the floor give way beneath you. You managed to roll over and watched as he dragged you backwards, pain tearing though your limbs as you were pulled along the floor.

"There you are" he mutters, pressing his boot onto your tummy, as he looks down at you. You suppose it would be to prevent you from fidgeting, but you are frozen in fear.

"My, my. Those wanted posters don't do you justice little darlin'. Don't quite capture that pretty face..."

You whimper as he kneels down, starting to wrap the rope around your other leg to tie you together, before looping it around your wrists.

"Please... Please sir I didn't do anything. It's a big mistake. Please...?"

He ties you off with a bow and chuckles. "Oh I know. I'm not as stupid as your neighbours, thinking a little flower like you could be involved in a bank robbery. Fuckin' dumb as hell..."

Your relief at his statement is short lived when he stands up and leaves you on the floor.

"Well then... Can't you help me? Let me go?" You wriggle and writhe, trying to keep him in your eyeline. Maybe he could be reasoned with?

He chuckles and sits himself on a bale. "Well I did think that, but there are two problems. First is that I've been chasing you for 5 days, in a storm and you've kinda pissed me off..."

You gulp, tears pricking at your eyes as he smiles at you.

"And the other problem is, now that I've gotcha, I don't think I wanna let you go."

You let out a shaky sob, squeezing your eyes shut, hoping as you have for many times in the past week, that this is all a dream. When you hear his boot scuff near your head you know it isn't. He kneels down next to you and takes your face gently between his hand and turns you to look at him.

"All I keep thinking is how I'm ready to retire, head up to my little cabin and have a pretty little housewife all to myself. Cook my dinners and have my babies hmm?"

Your eyes glisten as he talks, blurring vision as you begin to panic. You shake your head and mumble a weak 'no'. It makes him tut and squeeze your cheeks tighter.

"I know darlin', you're gonna fight me ain't ya? God knows you don't do anything the easy way huh? It's ok though. I'll have you convince by mornin'."

🧭

Convinced might be simplifying the situation, but by morning you are certainly not putting up a fight anymore.

Overnight as the storm raged outside he took you apart piece by piece. There was no part of your body that was now foreign to him.

He'd carefully removed your dress and kissed you all over. It was almost like a lover would. Sucking and biting gently at your soft skin, leaving marks all over you.

You shout and cry as loud as you can but he just smothers your cries with kisses. You tried to roll away, fight despite your bound state but he just chuckled and rolled you back where he wanted you.

He'd gotten very cross though when you tried to keep him from your heat. He'd had to find more rope to tie you open and spanked your heat until you were red and puffy.

"Wives aren't supposed to hide what belongs to their husbands darlin'. So don't you be hidin' from me..."

He resumed his gentler approach after, claiming your body with unexpected softness, kissing your tears away and praising you for taking him so well.

Hours passed and he barely relented. He let you rest a little, providing you with drink and a warm blanket. You slept when you could but were often woken by his lust, kisses and bites on your neck and chest.

"God you're beautiful yknow? So good for me... You gonna be my little housewife? Let me hide you away?"

He smiled wide when you nod. What else could you do?

I literally couldn't say no....

[tojisun]

Biker! Simon riding in the rain. The arms on display 😩

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRThsgyQ/

i hiccupped out loud oh my goooooooorddasd

the arms.. glistening.,. the way his muscles flexed when he began drivin ghn.,,.

this is the type of shit biker!simon sends you when you ask him where is he at, your worry bubbling over because the rain is getting stronger as time crawls by.

he took shelter at a nearby petrol station, the rain having obscured too much of his vision to ride home safely, when he receives the message. unabashedly, simon sends you the video as proof that he's doing alright.

then, he writes:

just got caught up, love. give me ten and i'll be home soon <

your response comes in right away, and simon sputters in laughter, eyes devouring the incredulity buried in your reply.

> where the hell did ur jacket go??

simon types up an answer but pauses when another message comes in from you.

> find a way to stick an umbrella on ur bike otherwise take the damn car next time 😭

he can't help the barked out laugh that scratches at his throat, his mind conjuring up images of himself—big, bulky, and towering—riding along kingsway with a brolly wedged between the strings of his rucksack.

not only is it a road bike hazard but it's so utterly ridiculous that simon is willing to actually give it a try.

he looks towards spar, his lips pursed.

roger that <

—

your phone lights up with another message and you feel your shoulders loosen up, worry subsiding a little bit.

it had been twenty minutes after your last message was sent to simon, but he had not responded after. he said he would be home in ten, but time trickled and ran, and simon was yet to be back, so this reply makes your lungs unclench.

you swipe your phone from the coffee table to check it, only to feel faint surprise filling you up at seeing that the message was not from simon but from johnny, sent to the group chat.

you didn't even know simon was with the gang. or was he meeting up with them?

without much thought, you clicked on the message, bypassing the confusion at seeing that it was a short video so that you can watch it. maybe he has a visual on simon–

what the fuck.

it was simon, alright.

the video was taken from an empty parking lot, johnny's camera shaky as he zooms in on the familiar wrapping of simon's bike swerving into the lot and moving towards johnny. in it, you hear your friend say, "what in fresh hell–"

and you can't even fault him because, again, what the fuck.

simon's got a rainbow-coloured umbrella strapped behind him, the stick of it wobbling even with his smooth cruising. he stops his bike just in front of johnny's vantage, feet falling to the asphalt for balance, before he reaches over to flick his visor up.

"hey," simon greets normally like there's nothing incredulous in having a whole umbrella poking from his back.

"ghost, what the hell," johnny repeats, his voice teetering between horror and glee.

you watch as simon shrugs, before, "my sweetheart advised me to have one f'r the rain. can't really find faults in it, yeah?"

what–

you remembered your previous message.

fucking christ.

—

hhrewoejfr bantering my beloved

[sugurizz]

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ── So this was an interesting ask cause it was a big, hard CHALLENGE. Just like Jaekyung's D- *Ahem* Aaanyways Jae and fluff are scientifically opposite terms. So trying to merge the two together feels more difficult than buiding a rocket. But I did it, and tried to keep HIM in character as much as I can, cause let's be honest…he has his tiny fluffy moments too...sometimes, yeah. heh. Anyways enjoy some RARE Jaekyung 'fluff' folkss.

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐒𝐊.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Just...fluff, Ig?

You stared at a gloomy, greyish sky through the huge bay window. The spacious emptiness of your roommate's apartment hit heavier in his absence. The raindrops trickled down, gradually getting thicker and louder under the thunderblasts of an imminent storm.

You did a few casual chores around the house, train of thoughts constantly derailing towards him…

− He took you in for a rather transactional reason, and you didn't particularly hate it either. You were in times of rut, torn between multiple jobs and restless days. And he needed someone who had it in them to take him, regardless of his temper and turmoil.

He had a professional to help maintain his fighter career by all means, and you had a luxurious roof over your head. And thus was your secret pact with the charming athlete.−

A louder bang shook you out your thoughts again. The storm running fiercer and wilder added to your unease. And the recurring, almost detonation-sounding noises strained your already worried heart.

You liked the rain, it even soothed you at times. But the violent thunderstorms often made you troubled, almost terrified. it brought fear and unrest in you.. some emotions and memories that you didn't like being brought back to the surface. The tall walls of the apartment resounded with louder rumbles. You cried out as you ran away, an inner instinct in you seeking a hideout narrow enough to shelter you…

____

'What are you in the damn closet for? Thought you were away.' He stared at you; curled up and shaky, holding your knees close to you chest as your hands wrapped over your ears.

You flinched at him sliding the closet door open. The chaotic noises outside had you barely notice him coming home, let alone walking on you in your hideout.

You raised your head and opened you mouth, struggling not to burst in tears. watery eyes and choked hiccups trapped in your throat, you took a deep sigh and tried explaining.

'I…got scared. I hate storms and w-was all by myself…I needed to hide somewhere.' You stuttered, face heating up with embarassment.

The timing was anything but convenient, especially with him fresh out the shower, cheeks pinkish and hair still a bit damp and messy with a towel over his shoulders.

'The heck? You a kid or something?' He huffed with a mean smirk, eyeing you down like some stray kitten on his lawn.

'Ugh. Just get out of there. I'm here anyways, the boogeyman won't eat you this time.'

He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The storm outside was still pretty audible to your ears, and so were the lightning flashing every now and then.

'I-I said I'm afraid…I'll just get out when I settle down.' You uttered, holding your legs closer to you again.

He didn't take what you said for an answer. Neither was he the type to reason with someone. Rather pulling your arm and caging you between him and the closet door sounded like the easiest way he had in mind.

'Still scared now?' He stared dead into your eyes and raised an eyebrow. You locked eyes on his, mortified, no words ready to leave your mouth.

'You're a grown woman, doc. Ya can't be sobbing because of a damn thunderstrom.'

Your head leaned forward, resting on his chest. The pent-up fear made him almost seem like a safe haven to you, and so did his overly tempting closeness against your body.

The tight muscles on his broad chest felt so warm, despite you only touching him for a couple seconds. It had your silly self almost wishing he would actually hold you tight…or even nuzzle you into his neck...

'Oi doc, let go now would ya?' He huffed with an eyeroll, turning his gaze away.

'Y-yeah…sorry.' You flinched away and shook your head, hoping he wouldn't notice the few warm tears you left on his shirt.

'Quite the scaredy cat you are.' He gave you a faint grin as you wiped your cheek.

'I'm hungry. Don't feel like cooking.' He turned around and walked out, hinting at you as he led the way towards the kitchen...

[harunayuuka2060]

Crowley: MC? MC? I have a new job for you—

Grim: The hench-human is at the roof, fixing the holes.

Crowley: Oh. Would you tell them to get down so we could talk?

Grim: Nah. It's raining. I don't want to get wet.

Crowley: I'll just wait here then. And ooh~ Looks like they've made some changes already.

Grim: They said it was barely habitable. They got a few things from the storage room to renovate the dorm a little.

Crowley: What a talented individual.

Grim: So, what do you want from my hench-human?

Crowley: You see, I'm thinking of turning you both into students of Night Raven College.

Grim: Mryah! Really?!

Crowley: Yes. I've realized that it would be a waste to just have them work as a janitor.

Grim: Mryahah~! Wait. *frowns at him*

Crowley: Is there something wrong, Grim?

Grim: You want to exploit my hench-human!

Crowley: Wh— Of course not! Where does that come from?!

Grim: They're already cleaning the whole school and that isn't enough for you?!

Crowley: I have provided you food and shelter!

Grim: Hench-human has to work outside the school mryah! Because the food you're giving us ain't enough!

Crowley: They still have time for that— *clears throat*— Well, they could've asked for more. That shouldn't be my problem.

MC: *walks in* *dripping wet* Hey, Grim. Can you grab me some towel— *noticed Crowley*— What do you want?

Grim: *flies to their side* He wants to exploit us!

Crowley: Certainly not! I'm here to offer you to officially become a student of our school. *smiling*

MC: *raised an eyebrow*

MC: Yeah. Grim sure could use that.

Crowley: H-How about you? Are you not interested?

MC: Nah. I'm good. I had vocational courses in my world. No need for me to have a diploma here.

Crowley: Oh. I did hear from Grim you got a job outside the campus.

MC: Yeah. I realized I can't live off solely from your benevolence when I'm feeding a glutton.

Grim: I'm not a glutton!

Crowley: ...

Crowley: I see. But as you've said, Grim could use this opportunity. So would you be taking the job I'm about to offer you?

MC: *smirks* Sure. I can use some extra income.

Crowley: ...

Crowley: I can only offer you a minimum wage.

MC: I'm not picky.

Crowley: Wonderful!

Leona: Huh? Who's that?

Ruggie: Don't you know? They're the janitor.

Leona: What are they doing here in Savanaclaw?

Ruggie: They've come to inspect each dorm in Night Raven College.

Leona: Huh?

MC: Some of the rooms here are full of shit.

Savanaclaw students: Why do you care?

MC: Shitty rooms, shitty people. *yawns* I feel like burning this whole place down.

Savanaclaw students: You can't do that!

MC: I can, pals. If you don't start cleaning right now.

Leona: ...

*In the housewarden meeting*

Leona: Hey, Crowley. What's up with that?

Crowley: *smiling* Is there a problem, Kingscholar?

Leona: Why does that punk get to do a dorm inspection?

Idia: Yeah! They have no respect to anyone's privacy!

Vil and Riddle: ...

Riddle: That isn't true at all.

Vil: Heartslabyul and Pomefiore were commended for their unwavering commitment to cleanliness and orderliness.

Vil: And they had asked for permission beforehand.

Azul: Though if you were to decline, they would persist and resort to using force to gain entry.

Kalim: I got scolded for keeping bugs in the kitchen...

Riddle: What the hell—

Crowley: MC's job as a dorm inspector only happens every end of the week. So you have nothing to worry about regarding invasion of privacy. *smiles*

Grim: Hench-human... *seems exhausted* *flies to their arms*

MC: You alright, buddy?

Grim: I hate classes... I give up.

MC: *chuckles* Looks like your preschool brain can't handle college classes.

Grim: Mryah! What did you say?!

MC: *pets him* Told ya to learn your ABC's first.

Grim: MRRAAAAHHHH!!!

MC: Easy, bud. Easy. I got you some food.

Grim: Take back what you said!

MC: Nuh-uh. Just prove me wrong.

Grim: I'll prove you wrong! Watch me!

[jobean12-blog]

In the Middle of Somewhere

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 1,003

Summary: You and Joel are searching for shelter for the night and come across something unexpected.

Author's Note: A few friends have shared the list of 'Reverse Trope Writing Prompts" and I couldn't get over a few of them, especially the "too many beds," one. Thought this would work well with Joel in this setting. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics 🥰thank you! I'll share the list below the cut at the end of the fic.

Warnings: it's fluffy floof and Joel is soft

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The forest seems to holds it’s breath as dusk falls, the rustling leaves and singing birds hushing to a soft murmur. You cling to the fabric of Joel’s flannel, pressed close to his back as he walks cautiously over the dense underbrush.

“How great would it be if we found a treehouse?” you say, trying to keep your voice light even as your eyes dart through the impending darkness.

The trees cast elongated shadows along the ground, their bright green leaves blackening against the deepening purple of the sky.

“I just hope we find somethin’ before the rain,” Joel mutters.

The air is thick with the promise of an oncoming storm and every now and then the distant rumble of thunder echoes through the woods.

You shiver and he stops, turning to look at you with a softness in his eyes.

“Are you cold?”

You swallow hard, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in the safety and warmth of his arms but instead you shake your head no and give him your best reassuring smile.

He studies you, his eyes narrowing and his jaw working hard with the grind of his teeth.

“We’ll find somethin’ soon darlin’.”

After walking for another mile or so you spot a clearing up ahead and you can just make out the outline of several small structures.

“Are those….,” you start, clutching his bicep tighter, “cabins?”

He stops and nudges you behind him.

“Wait here. I’m goin’ to get a closer look.”

“Joel…”

“If anything goes wrong you run.”

Your fingers dig into his arm.

“Darlin’,” he pleads.

He reaches around to run his large hand across your lower back, checking for the gun he gave you.

“Promise me,” he whispers.

“Ok,” you answer after a moment of silence.

He stares for longer than necessary and just as he starts to turn away you grab his face in your hands and softly kiss the corner of his mouth. His eyes are closed with you pull away and when they open again you whisper, “be careful.”

With a nod he quietly moves away from you, motioning to a nearby tree. You move out of sight, your eyes tracking his movement from behind the large trunk as he slowly approaches the cabins.

After what feels like an eternity you see him emerge from the third and last cabin, his steps quick and sure as he walks back to you.

“It’s all clear,” he explains with a relieved exhale. “Let’s take the middle one.”

He takes your hand in his and leads you up the old and worn wooden stairs, glancing around one last time before pushing the door open to reveal an open space with high ceilings and four sets of bunk beds.

“What the…” you trail off, staring unblinking at all the beds.

“Probably a sleepaway camp,” he says with a small sideways smile. “We got lucky.”

You drop your bag to the floor and look around, trying to decide which bed to take and finally picking the top bed of the bunk in the far corner. You step onto the ladder to try it out.

Sturdy.

You throw him a smile and climb up to the top.

“I’ve never slept in a bunk bed before,” you admit.

He’s quiet before replying, “actually, me either.”

Once you’ve had a quick meal you hear the first drop of rain, the rhythm quickly becoming relentless against the wooden roof. Outside, the darkness is dense, the thick rain clouds obscuring almost all the starlight and moon glow.

Lying in bed sleep eludes you as your mind remains alert despite the hour. Each flash of lightning briefly illuminates the cabin, casting eerie shadows that dance across the walls before fading back into darkness.

You toss and turn on the hard wood, searching for comfort.

“Can’t sleep?” Joel asks from the other side of the room.

“No,” you answer softly. “Sorry if I’m keeping you up.”

When he doesn’t answer you let out a quiet sigh and curl your arms around yourself.

The sound of wood creaking makes you sit up with a gasp but when you realize it’s only Joel climbing the ladder you let out a rush of air.

“You could have said you were coming up here,” you tease.

“I’m coming up,” he counters, and even though you can’t see his face you can hear the mirth in his tone.

Your only reply is a light chuckle as you shift over to the far side of the small bed and he climbs in, lying on his side to face you.

“What was wrong with your bed?” you ask.

His hand reaches out across the darkness and closes around your fingers.

“You weren’t in it.”

The palm of your free hand presses to his chest before your fingers curl into his shirt. He tugs you closer, circling one arm around you while the other rests between your bodies, your fingers still entwined with his. When your knee nudges against his he hitches his thigh over yours, surrounding you in exactly what you need.

You nuzzle your face into his neck with a soft inhale then press a delicate kiss just under his jaw. He exhales your name and dips his head to find your lips, capturing them gently at first.

The rain has begun to dissipate and a steady breeze carries the clouds from the sky, revealing the bright moon. It’s light filters through the opaque glass windows, highlighting the features of his face.

At his tentative expression you slowly brush your thumb across his lips, smiling when he kisses the pad of your finger. Your touch continues, tracing his scruffy jaw before taking his face in your hand and bringing his mouth closer.

He presses another gentle kiss to your lips and slides his hand along your waist, tucking you into the curve of his body. A whimper leaves your throat and he groans at the sound, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss and press you harder against him.

@hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @lizette50

[dvrtrblhr]

all the tropes/kissing in the rain/cinderella/manic pixie dream claude/etc (free day)

this is for day 7 of dmcl week. unfortunately i could only finish it today lol i kinda needed a weekend to rest. anyway, this is a direct continuation of that scene i drew in which dimitri says he's got claude under his control etc. it's part of one of my secret stash of fics :p

scene below!

TW: drunk!claude

Claude almost stumbled but quickly regained his balance. He grinned at Dimitri, a challenging expression that stirred something within him.

Then, without hesitation, he dashed into the courtyard, embracing the downpour. Water clung to his clothes, his hair plastered against his forehead and neck, his eyes gleaming like stars.

"I don't fear you," he shouted over the rain, his voice barely audible. "Lock me up? I dare you! I'll vanish from your life so swiftly, you'll never find me again."

Dimitri watched, utterly captivated, as water cascaded down Claude's skin, soaking into his fine clothes. Claude's smile held that mysterious, mischievous allure, drawing Dimitri in like an enigmatic, otherworldly force.

"You'll never have my heart like that, Dimitri!" Claude's words echoed through the courtyard, punctuated by laughter.

“Claude, please get out of the rain. You will get sick like that. You are not— Not in Derdriu anymore,” Dimitri implored.

"Come get me," Claude challenged, his tone daring and playful.

Dimitri closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Claude's waist and lifting him from the rain-soaked ground. Claude let out a yelp of surprise, his arms instinctively encircling Dimitri's shoulders.

As Dimitri carried Claude toward shelter, their lips met in an unexpected kiss, raindrops mingling with the warmth of their mouths. When Claude finally pulled away, a contented smile graced his lips.

"I'm glad I'm not in Derdriu anymore," he confessed.

"I'm glad... that you're glad," Dimitri replied, as puzzled by Claude as always. "You're quite intoxicated, aren't you?"

"Just a little," Claude chuckled, clinging to Dimitri with both his arms and legs. “You smell so nice…”

Dimitri sighed, carrying Claude out of the rain and into the dry hallway. "I'm sorry for losing my patience," he apologized as he set Claude down and released him. "And for being possessive. I wish I were a better man."

"But then you'd be dull," Claude retorted, shrugging. "I'm not perfect either. And I won't apologize for it, because that's just not my style."

[knightjpg]

Tending the Garden

His other hand lets yours go, knuckles brushing sweetly over your cheek. Your breath hitches. You can't help yourself—your gaze drops to his lips. The sweet curve of them.  What you wouldn't give. 

tags: 🔞Javier Escuella/reader, unprotected piv, oral (m receiving), body worship, fingering

part 1 | part 2

The weather turns. Summer rainstorms plague you, and while your garden drinks it up the sudden bursts of heavy rain make doing work outside impossible. 

It comes and goes without warning or announcement—which is why you're startled into a surprised shout when you get hosed down again while crouched in between your tomato plants. Javier is close by, already rushing for shelter, but something catches your eye. 

“The laundry—!” 

Damn it, and it was nearly dry too! You can't help yourself and rush over to try and save some of it. It turns out to be a futile effort. Everything's drenched. When you realise it's hopeless you curse, leave it and turn on your heel to run inside. 

Not that that really matters anymore. You're soaked from tip to toe, your light work clothes sticking to you like a second skin. Javier is already toweling himself off when you burst inside and push back the rain-slick hair out of your eyes. In your haste to get dry you miss the way Javier freezes when he sees you. His eyes linger on your chest, on the curves of your body that show through the soaked fabric so clearly, on your ass when you bend down to shake the water out of your boots. 

You laugh a little breathlessly when you make eye contact with him. “Tried to get the damn laundry...” you explain yourself while gratefully taking the towel he holds out to you. 

In an effort not to stare at his shirtless torso you turn around, wiping your face dry and ruffling the towel over your hair. Should probably get changed... 

...into what, exactly? Your other blouses are dripping on the laundry line, and you ripped your one spare while tracking down an elk a few days ago. With the garden harvest keeping you busy you haven't gotten ‘round to mending it yet. 

You huff a breath of irritation. 

“¿Cuál es el problema?” 

He's reading you better by the day, ain't he?  

“'S nothing, 's nothing. Just ain't got a single dry thing to dress myself in.” You shake your head. “Guess I'll just wait it out.” At least it's not too cold. Hopefully the air will warm up again quickly after the rain's passed. 

“No, no, you will get sick,” Javier frowns. “Wait.” He disappears into his room and comes back out with his poncho. 

You protest, but Javier won't hear it and wraps the fabric around your shoulders. You stumble forward just a little when he does, closer to him, his hands still holding the fabric on either of your sides. Trapped. Your heartbeat accelerates when Javier looks at you for just a beat too long and you think you see—a flicker of something. 

Then it's gone, and you're left wondering. He lets you go, taking a respectful step back, but you replay the way his gaze burned on you many times over late at night. Feeling ashamed of yourself for—for wanting him. 

Because oh, Lord, you do. You try to deny it, but you know you do. 

Wrapped in his scent all day, musk and smoke and the scratchy fabric of his poncho on your bare skin, has you wound more tightly than ever before. God forgive you, but— 

Just... just this once. 

The nights out here are quiet; just the occasional hoot of an owl or the cry of some other night creature out hunting. 

You can hear your sharp intake of breath cut through the air as your hand trails lower, over your stomach, through the rough, curling hair on your mound. You bite your lip to muffle the whimper that threatens to escape when you touch yourself. 

You think about Javier's rough, slender hands. The way he presses your father's old harmonica to his mouth, playing you a sweet tune when the labour of the day is done. Wishing he'd press his lips to your skin in just the same way, his low, pleasant voice whispering over your naked body. Praising you, licking you, biting you. Pressing into you— 

You arch up, losing yourself in the pleasure that spikes through you. It's so easy to slip into the daydream of Javier, Javier coaxing you through your release, Javier's fingers working your clit, Javier whispering your name in the dark. 

Despite your best efforts some soft sounds escape you, and as you lie on your bed, panting slightly from coming down from your high, you burn with embarrassment at what you've just done. Good God, how are you going to look him in the eye tomorrow? 

And what if—what if he heard? 

Mortifyingly, you can't decide between wishing he had or not. 

—

Summer keeps you busy enough to push your shame to a far, dark corner in your mind. There's so much to grow and harvest and hunt, and even though the days are long the hours feel far too short. Canning beans, drying herbs, fermenting vegetables; smoking meat and cutting wood. 

Your garden has all but exploded. Sweet, red-ripe tomatoes, rich purple eggplants, peas that grow faster than you can cut them, and what must be the record for the largest zucchini you ever did see. There's berries, too, daily sun-warmed sweet treats, bursting apart on your tongue. 

Perhaps it's because there's two pairs of hands to care for the soil this year around; your father always did find fishing and hunting to suit him better, and often you were the sole caretaker of your plot of land. 

You didn't mind; you liked growing things. Liked the warm earth between your fingers and the rush of pride when another small green sprout popped up because of your hard work alone. 

But you hadn't known that shared joy could taste this sweet. Javier goes out with you during early summer mornings, feeding the chickens—the ladies—before poring over every little stalk and leaf. He scolds bugs and snails in Spanish, tossing them far across the hills after he's shown you the accursed criminal, and argues with the birds brave enough to come close enough. 

“El ládron has visited again,” he huffs. “He made a hole in the net.” 

“That scoundrel,” you say, trying hard to hold back your laughter. Javier looks cute when he scowls, brows furrowed and mouth pursed disapprovingly like a teacher disappointed in his student. As though the birds should know better by now than to try and steal from him. 

You relish in your shared routine.  

“Mira, there are more frambuesas,” Javier points out. He's right; many of the still too-hard raspberries have plumped into thick batches overnight. 

“Look at that,” you say. “I guess we better start eatin’ them before el ládron does.” 

Javier bends down to pick a handful and presents one to you with a smile. “Here—” 

You don't know why you open your mouth. Surely he meant for you to take it from him with your fingers— 

Javier slips the berry in your mouth. His fingertips brush your lower lip, smelling fresh and sweet. His smile has faded; his gaze has locked on your tongue darting out to catch the juice spilling over. 

It's quiet for a beat too long. 

You duck your head and clear your throat, an uncomfortable laugh bubbling up to prick through the silence. “Right! Um. I guess we better get to work, yeah?” 

—

Javier slumps in his chair with a relieved groan. The kitchen smells like sweet fruit; your freshly made jam is cooling in jars on the table. 

You pat his shoulder. “Thanks for helpin’ me, darlin'.” 

“Anything for you,” Javier replies tiredly. You huff a laugh, fingers lingering on his arm before pulling away. 

“I'll bake you some pancakes,” you promise him. “Those'll go real well with our jam. We'll have ourselves a right feast for the hard work we been puttin’ in.” 

Javier perks up. “A party?” 

“Sure,” you smile. “We'll make it a party. Why not.” 

You follow up on that promise two days later. You spend nearly all day in the kitchen, sweating over the fire, shooing Javier when he comes wandering multiple times to try and sneak a bite of something when you're not looking. 

Your effort pays off: there's venison roast, its fragrant herb garnish mouth-watering; savoury vegetable pies, stuffed with today's pickings; sweet cornbread, with butter and nuts to go with; and fruit cobbler, Javier's favourite, for dessert. 

You pour yourself and Javier wine that you save for special occasions and make a short, sweet toast; “To our hard work!” 

You laugh and chat and eat, and when you've had your fill you linger over your plates. Happy. Content. Even when he leaves—you'll have this. You'll have this memory. 

You look up when Javier scrapes his chair back, holding out a hand in invitation. “Señorita,” he says with a quirk of his lips, “it is not a party without dancing.” 

“Dancin’?” you ask, amused, even if your hand is already placing itself in his. “We ain't got no music to dance to.” 

“Of course we do,” Javier replies lightly, pulling you to your feet. One of his hand presses against the small of your waist, tugging you closer; the other takes the hand already in his and puts it over his heart. “Listen.” 

Words falter you, then, against the thrum of his heartbeat strong and alive under your fingertips. Your cheeks feel warm, warmer than because of any effect the wine might've had, and you're powerless to stop Javier when he pulls you into a simple two-step, swaying from side to side. 

And when he starts humming a song, gently guiding you into a twirl, you follow with a smile. When Javier dips you and you almost bump into the kitchen table both of you laugh. Javier is careful with you, though, and doesn't allow you to bruise yourself on the wood. He seems to prefer keeping you closely tucked against his chest, anyway, and you're not about to complain. 

But you do wish the song lasted longer. Javier smells like summer. Warm dirt, sweat, something green that is beautiful and alive. You want to bottle it up and store it on your shelves next to your jam and pickled berries and dried herbs. Something for the hard days, the cold and quiet days where you need something sweet and light to get you out of bed in the mornings. 

All things end, you know that. The cycle of the seasons you live with is a constant reminder. Javier's humming dies away like the birdsong just before autumn becomes winter. You can't help your smile turning just a little sad, and wait for him to release you. Ready to drift away like a little leaf turned brown and dry. 

...Except he doesn't. His beautiful eyes have softened into something straight from your daydreams, the ones where you let yourself be greedy and selfish. Keep him all for yourself. The weight of his hand on your waist does nothing to ground you, either—it's too easy to imagine his touch on your bare skin. 

His other hand lets yours go, knuckles brushing sweetly over your cheek. Your breath hitches. You can't help yourself—your gaze drops to his lips. The sweet curve of them. 

What you wouldn't give. 

An easy apology is on the tip of your tongue, ready to break away from this momentary bubble, ready to step back into a friendly distance. You're about to say it. Manage to tear your eyes away from Javier's mouth— 

And startle at the heat in his eyes. “Ay, cariño,” he murmurs. “Eres hermosa.” 

You know that word. A hot flash rushes through you at the compliment, bursts into flames when Javier leans forward and presses his lips against yours with a sweet insistence. Your eyes flutter shut, the hand that was resting on his shoulder sliding to his neck, responding eagerly, needily—wanted him for so long—  

Javier is not unaffected by your enthusiasm and he groans into your mouth, pressing you closer against him. His kiss grows hungrier, demanding. And you— 

You force yourself away, panting for air. “I can't,” you gasp. “I can't.” 

It'll hurt. This—no more Javier, no more made-up songs hummed in the morning, no more complaints about dirt scuffing the knees on his pants. This is already going to hurt, and if you let him take this piece of you as well you don't know how long it will take you to recover if at all. 

“Why?” Javier doesn't let go of you but allows you a little more space when you push against his chest. “Te deseo. I want you.” His voice is low, husky. A shiver works its way along your spine, and with the way he squeezes your sides you know he felt it too. 

“I—” You look away from him, pained. “You'll leave someday, Javier—I can't... Can't do this if you—if I know you'll disappear on me—” 

“You want me to leave?” Javier asks, frowning. 

“No! No, of course not, just... You ain't owed me a thing, and—I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go. I'm sure you've got better things to do—” 

“Querida,” Javier says, more forcefully this time. You look up at his him, his expression fierce. “I do not want to leave. ¿Adónde iría?” Realisation dawns on him. “Dios mío, is this why you said I should get Boaz—?” 

Your guilty expression tells all, and he lets out an exasperated laugh before pulling you into another kiss. This one is a less careful. Less sweet. Never mind the meal you just had—Javier kisses you like he hasn't eaten in days. You let out a soft, surprised sound and he swallows it, biting at your lower lip so he can slide his tongue against yours. Swallows all the little whines and moans that follow, too, until your knees grow weak and the only thing you're capable of doing is melting against him. 

“No voy a ninguna parte,” he mutters, his lips moving against yours without ever leaving you. “Todo el tiempo que me lo permitas.” 

“Javi—” you're cut off when he kisses you again, set on devouring you. “Can't—I don't know what...” 

He slows down then, just a little, thumbing your cheek and forehead pressed against yours. “I will not leave, cariño. Unless you tell me to.” 

Warmth blooms through your chest, spreading all the way to your fingertips. “You better not,” you murmur back. Your free hand has come up to fist the fabric of his blouse. “Who'd fix the fence for me if you went?” 

Javier smiles, huffing a quiet laugh through his nose. “Te lo prometo.” 

Promise.   

It's what snaps that feeble thread pulled taut, on the verge of breaking for months. 

And finally... you relax. Pull him into you, trying to kiss him sweet and slow and then immediately abandoning that effort the second you taste him again. Javier's hands rove over your body, squeezing your hips, your waist, your ass. You're eagerly exploring him, too; smoothing your hands over his chest, feeling his lean muscles flex under your touch. His strong arms. His narrow hips. 

“Llevo meses queriendo besarte,” he groans against your mouth. “I think about you. On your back. On your knees. Todas las noches.” 

Oh, God. You whimper when he moves his mouth to your neck to bite at the soft, sensitive skin and your hands fly up to tangle in his hair, tugging at his ponytail. His own hands have slid to your hips, keeping them pressed against him in an iron grip. You can feel his arousal press against you, and when he sucks on a particularly sweet spot below your jaw your hips buck forward. Javier moans against your skin. 

And when you grow daring and let your hand trail down to cup the bulge in his pants the groan he lets out rumbles through his entire chest. You lower yourself slowly, holding his eyes, and Javier watches you with parted, kiss-swollen lips, breath coming more quickly with the way you're caressing his cock through the fabric of his dark jeans. 

“You wanted me on my knees, sweetheart?” you ask with a smile, tugging at his button and fly and Javier wastes no time helping you, his cock finally springing free with a tip leaking precum. You keep yourself from groaning. It's a good thing you're kneeling—your legs might have buckled if you'd kept standing. You shift and the wooden floor digs into your knees, but you can't bring yourself to stop or care. You wrap your hand around him, and Javier's hips jolt forward involuntarily. His hands stroke your hair, your cheek. Looking down on you with flushed cheeks and glittering eyes.  

Beautiful. 

You give a few experimental pumps and relish the quiet moans and groans fall from Javier's lips. “Mierda,” he hisses when he feels your tongue on his shaft. You lick up from the base to the tip, your hand still pumping him slowly. Javier's breath quickens in anticipation, the hand on your head grabbing your hair for something to hold onto. You've wanted this for so long it's hard to draw out any teasing, but you try. Try to make it good for him. You slowly take him into your mouth, hands sliding over his hips and tugging him forward gently, encouraging him to take the pace how he likes. 

Javier throws his head back, a low, constant groan filling the room. “Dios mio... You feel—oh, querida...” 

The hand in your hair tightens his hold on you, and he slowly thrusts forward, a string of curses and praises falling from his lips. “Tan bueno, tan bueno, cariño... Oh, don't stop, don't stop. No te atrevas a parar—” 

You relax your throat, pushing yourself onto him further until the dark, wiry hair trailing down his stomach tickles your nose. Javier is loud, hips stuttering as he moans, lost to words when you gag and swallow around him. Drool trickles down your chin as you breathe heavily through your nose, then pull off to gulp for air. You do it again; and again, and each time Javier's low whines and groans fill the room heat pools in your core. You can feel your wetness against your bloomers, sorely tempted to touch yourself, but you don't want to miss even a second of Javier's pleasure. 

“Oh, mi angél,” and Javier shudders when you slide your hands over his thighs, nails dragging over his skin. You repeat the motion, swirl your tongue over the head, and that's all it takes. Javier’s hips jump one last time, voice shooting up an octave as he finds his release. Your eyes water but you keep your mouth on him, swallowing down his salty bitterness, then slowly ease off and look up through your lashes. 

Javier watches you with half-lidded eyes, chest heaving, and reaches down to swipe a stray drop of cum off your chin to bring it to your lips instead. You flush, but open your mouth for him. Javier groans weakly when you clean his thumb, watches intently as you swallow. 

“Hermosa... Ven aquí—come here.” Javier helps you up and kisses you again, drinking his own aftertaste from your tongue. 

He pulls back and watches you with lidded eyes, a sated flush settled over fine features coloured a warmer brown by days of summer sunshine. His gaze softens when you smile at him, a little breathless and a lot aroused. 

That softness is replaced by a mischievous glint a second later, and you watch, everything feeling sticky-slow through the haze of your lust, as he bends through he knees and lifts you in his arms. 

“Javi—what are you doing?” you laugh, arms flying around his shoulders for purchase. “Put me down, I'm heavy—!” 

Javier defiantly does a little spin that has you clinging to him tighter, and you let out a half-smothered squeal of surprise. 

“My turn now,” he says smugly, and then he's marching to your bedroom, nudging the door open with his shoulder and pushing past it with a wide grin and flushed cheeks. It's clumsy and uncoordinated because he refuses to stop looking at you longer than a second, too caught up in the dizzying high of chasing something that has been brewing between the two of you for too long. 

When he deposits you on your mattress and half-falls over you, legs tangled together, he laughs, giddy with happy disbelief, and you join him while reaching for him with greedy arms. 

Javier goes willingly. Now that he's had a taste of you it's like he can't stop, chasing your lips while barely stopping to catch his breath. His hair slips out of his ponytail, tickling your cheek and then your neck when his kisses trail down to your chest. He curses when the buttons on your blouse don't yield immediately, and you help him impatiently rip the fabric out of the way.  

A moan stutters out of your chest when warm, wet lips caress your breasts, joined by callused fingers only moments later. For all his impatience Javier's touch borders on reverent. He kneads your flesh gently, dragging his fingertips over the goosebumps left in the wake of his cooling spit. Your eyes squeeze shut when he laves his tongue over your nipples, spurred on by your whines. 

You're not the only one feeling pent-up. 

Javier's hips rut into yours seemingly without being aware of it, chest pressing against your own, the need to be closer overtaking everything else. Mercifully he's not so far gone that he doesn't remember to move his hands further south in the direction of what has gone from a simmering excitement to an aching heat. 

Javier lets out a breathy “oh”, followed by shocked, pleased laughter when he feels how drenched you are for him. “This is for me?” he has the audacity to ask with that wicked curl to his lips. 

You flush and try to answer him, then stutter out something unintelligible when his fingers swipe up and around and Lord—  

You throw your head backwards, choking on a moan. The only thing you manage for Javier is a harsh, panted “oh God” while your hips buck and writhe without your permission, trying to get more of that delicious friction.  

It takes Javier a few tries to settle on what you like, but he's got a good ear and a stubborn streak. He listens closely to your whines and groans, and when your back arches on a particularly good stroke he repeats it. Again. Again— 

“Like this?” Javier rasps. When your eyes flutter open they look right into his, dark and huge and hungry. If you had half a mind to think on it his expression would remind you of the day you found him, sat at your dinner table and wolfing down his food. 

“Yes,” you whimper. “Oh—Javier, yes, right—right there—”  

Javier answers with a moan of his own as though your pleasure with his. His fingers are steadily pouring more of that hot syrupy feeling in your lower stomach, feeding the boil of the flames, and the temperature spikes when Javier leans forward again to kiss your chest. 

When his teeth gently scrape your breast you whimper, stomach tensing, and when his lips close around your nipple to suck on your flesh you break. A brushfire rages through you from tip to toe and leave you feeling like you're the smoke coming off it, floating high and hazy far above in the clouds. Time is slow and sticky, just like your body when you come down. 

When you open your eyes again, ears ringing and chest heaving, you're met with a daydream lovelier than anything you could've conjured up yourself. Javier's eyes have turned into warm honey, sweet and soft and wanting, drinking you in with undisguised affection. 

You cup his face in your hands and feel him tremble ever so slightly, and you let a shaky laugh yourself. Smooth your fingers over his brows, his jaw. The world has tilted from its usual axis. The abundance of summer bursting at the seams while birds trill their songs for love-making, every little thing in the world around you vibrant and at the height of its arching crescendo. 

“Hermosa,” Javier murmurs again, voice raspy. He bends down to kiss you again, and though this one is less hurried it is by no means any less sweet. 

When he pulls back you take the opportunity to shuck off your pants—they feel too-heavy and coarse. You want to feel Javier's calluses without fabric in the way. 

Javier mirrors you, quickly shedding his blouse and pants, hopping on one feet while he fights with the leg, and you laugh. He looks up, grinning, and you feel your heart flood.  

His smile remains when he crawls over you again and you shift to pull him closer, further across the bed. It's as though the two of you have always fit together—you part your thighs and Javier's hips follow, slotting into the space like this was always meant to be for him and him alone. 

So much skin on skin after so long feels overwhelming. Everything you've wanted condensed down to the essence, suddenly too rich a flavour to swallow down without choking on it. 

You shudder. 

Javier sighs. 

You'd wager both of you have been hungry for something other than a well-cooked meal for a while. 

“Yes?” Javier asks, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Yes,” you answer, hushed. Like a prayer. 

Javier groans when he slides his cock through your slick, but he's patient while he lines himself up and gives you time to adjust. He feeds himself to you slowly, heartbeat jumping wildly under his pulse while you breathe through the stretch.  

It's been a long time since you've had anything but your fingers, and though the fullness is welcome it makes you tremble and clutch at Javier's arms for support. When you nod for him to move Javier pulls out halfway, then rocks back in, each time a little deeper until he fills the whole space of you. 

Javier exhales shakily, dropping his head to the crook of your shoulder when you circle your arms around his neck. For a little time the only thing in the room are quiet pants, the slap of skin on skin, and the slide of sweat. Javier kisses your neck, your cheek, your lips, and you wrap your legs around his waist to keep him as close as you can. 

That sticky feel-good feeling in your stomach burns low and steady, each stroke adding to a lazy simmering arousal—but when Javier wriggles his hand between your bodies to stroke your clit again it jumps. You gasp, tensing and squeezing around him. 

“Dios mío,” Javier groans, hips bucking forward in response. “You feel so good—so good. Am I—nnngh—am I making you feel good, cariño?” 

“Yes,” you tell him. “Yes, yes—” 

Javier curses. He loses his rhythm with the tight flutter of your cunt, panting “Take it, take it,” before tensing and spilling deep inside you. His release brings forth another zing of pleasure and Javier's fingers keep working you until you follow him in his release. 

Boneless, you lie together to catch your breaths until Javier pulls back to look down at you. “You are beautiful,” he says quietly, and he dips down to kiss you. Chaste, this time, tired and sated. Loving. It unknots the last of your worries that Javier might leave in search of something better after all—if this kind of tenderness isn't real, nothing is. 

“So are you,” you smile. 

You spend the aftermath tangled in each other's arms. Javier's collarbone digs into your cheek and you know for a fact your leg will start cramping in a little while, but you wouldn't trade it for the world. You can feel his lungs expand, breathing slow, alive like summer winds. 

Javier's rough fingertips swipe over the naked skin of your shoulder in a circular soothing motion. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs against your temple. “For caring.”  

A soft kiss on the column of your throat. 

“It makes me want to care, too.”

[loveforeren]

You want to have sex now?! Gyomei x Fem!Reader

✿ A/N ➳❥ This was off my Ao3, but I'm moving them over here. I don't want to have to worry abt them so here. I'll be adding the other 2 after this, and I'm working on my Masterlist too. I'll add it to all my work once I'm done.

✿ content warning ➳❥ Oral Sex, Fem!Reader, sex (obviously), breeding kink, and having sex in a house you don't own.

☆ Masterlist ☆

As you and Gyomei returned from a quick mission, the rain suddenly began to pour heavily. "Shit," you cursed under your breath, quickly spotting a small house nearby. Without hesitation, you pulled Gyomei inside, seeking shelter from the downpour.

"How long do you think it's going to rain?" Gyomei asked curiously, his blind eyes scanning the surroundings.

You shrugged, unsure of the duration of the rain. "I'm not sure, Gyomei. We can just stay here overnight," you sighed, shaking off the cold.

"It's so cold," you shivered, feeling the chill penetrate your clothes.

Having been together for almost two years, physical touch between you and Gyomei was natural. Seeking warmth and comfort, you crawled over to Gyomei and curled up in his lap. He chuckled, embracing you tightly. "I'll keep you warm," he promised with a smile.

Sitting up on his lap, you wrapped your arms around him, leaving a small peck on his lips. The innocent gesture soon evolved into a heated kiss, the intensity of your desire growing with each passing second.

"Y/N, is it smart to do this here?" Gyomei said voice laced with concern, though his body language conveyed his own desire. As he was moving his hips grinding against you.

You didn't answer with words; instead, you took his hands and placed them on your hips, silently inviting him to explore. "Gyomei." you murmured, your voice filled with need.

His hands trembling with anticipation, Gyomei pulled you closer, gradually removing your clothes. Now on top of him, you remained in just a bra and underwear while he was completely bare. Running your hand up his body, you pressed against him, grinding slowly.

"Y/N... please, come on," Gyomei pleaded, unable to contain his desire any longer. As his hands lightly explored your ass and thighs.

You smiled, discarding the rest of your clothing and crawling down between his legs, fixating your gaze on his erect member. It was big, perhaps bigger than you had imagined. Your tongue glided along his shaft gently, leaving small kisses along the way. You knew how sensitive he was, especially to your touch. That's what made this so much more fun. The stone pillar of the hashira melting under your touch and practically begging you to let him feel your embrace.

Gyomei's breath hitched as he warned you, "Please... Y/N, don't push yourself." His mind is sent back to the time before this when he was a little too rough, and left your throat bruised.

Ignoring his caution, you took the tip into your mouth, gradually engulfing more than half of his length. Bobbing your head up and down, you felt Gyomei struggle to control himself, resisting the urge to push your head further. He was too caring for his own good in your opinion but that's what you loved about him.

"Y... Y/N, I'm going to cum," he gasped, his climax nearing. His hand was now pushing your head down, and his pulsing length was now burrowed deep within your throat.

In response, you quickened your pace, and a few moments later, Gyomei released into your mouth. Feeling his warm fluid fill your mouth, you swallowed it all with a satisfied smile. Pleasing him in this way brought you immense joy.

Gyomei, catching his breath, urged you to spit it out. "Ah! Spit it out, hurry, hurry!"

However, you had already swallowed it all, teasing him playfully. "Too late, all gone," you teased, relishing in the moment.

"My goodness," Gyomei sighed, both amazed and overwhelmed by your actions. Gyomei was always shy in the begging, but you knew that he enjoyed knowing you swallowed all of it.

Climbing back on top of him, you once again straddled him, taking hold of his now-sensitive cock and rubbing it slowly against your slick folds. A soft groan escaped both your lips and his, but the temptation to tease Gyomei further was too strong. You slid the tip inside slowly. You took no more than the tip still not letting it go fully in. Rubbing his erect member between your slick folds was almost too much to bare for both you and him. You couldn't resist teasing Gyomei though. Seeing him tear up was so thrilling.

"Please... please, I need to be in you, Y/N," Gyomei pleaded, his desperation evident.

Smiling mischievously, you toyed with him, relishing in his adorable begging. Gyomei whimpered, his desire growing with every passing moment.

"Please... I want to fill you up... I want to fill your womb," he stuttered, unable to contain himself any longer. He was always one to say things like this none of the other hashira knew how needy Gyomei could be. You were the only one to see this side of him.

His words broke something within you, unleashing a surge of desire. Pushing yourself onto him, you slowly took him inside, feeling him fill you completely. Gyomei let out a deep groan, his hands firmly gripping your hips as you began to bounce up and down. You were going at a steady pace feeling his large member enter you body repeatedly. You were fine until Gyomei couldn't take it anymore he slammed you down. You felt him in you core. The pleasure, the sensation, the desire for more was overweighing both your rationality and his.

"Gyomei," you managed to squeak out, unable to control the pleasure coursing through your body.

"Mmm, I want to get you pregnant... I need to. I want to fill your womb." Gyomei whispered, his voice filled with desperate longing. He matched your movements, thrusting into you with a rough and fast pace.

Overwhelmed by his size, you found yourself unable to think clearly. Leaning down onto his chest, you surrendered to the pleasure, your bodies moving in perfect synchronization.

"Gyomei, please... slower, go slower," you managed to request amidst your moans.

Gyomei obliged, gradually slowing down, but still providing you with immense pleasure. He whispered in your ear, "I'm going to cum."

"Me too. Gyo cum inside me please I need you to fill me up." You manage to let out between the moans you were letting out.

This made Gyomei's rationality snap as he released in you. You could feel his warm fluid fill you up and it mixed with yours. He pulls put slowly to avoid causing you harm, and you feel the warm fluids spilling out of you.

You chuckled at a random thought that you didn't think of earlier.

"Gyo..what if the owner of this house come home? How would they react to seeing THE Stone pillar of the hashira and possibly the strongest Hashira laying on their floor with no clothes? Not to mention his lover laying on his chest with his semen flowing out of her slowly." You laughed loudly. Unlike Gyomei you were shameless.

"I didn't think of that.." Gyomei murmured.

"Of course.." you laughed again.

You and Gyomei cleaned up quickly getting clothed, and fortunately, there weren't any stains on either of your clothes. The owners didn't come home so you and Gyomei left that morning as you giggled and teased Gyomei again. You loved that only you could see that side of Gyomei. That Whiny, needy, loving, and desperate side of him.

✿ A/N ➳❥ I'll be adding the master very soon so give me a little bit.