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aurumalatus · 3 days

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𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 1.6k

genre/warnings. pixelprincess!au (princess!reader x knight!kinich), graphic depictions of violence/terrorism

summary.

when the abyssal army attacks the kingdom, you and kinich end up trapped in the chaos. battered and broken and pushed to his limits, kinich gives everything he has to protect you.

author's note. a more serious drabble between the two, a huge contrast to the first one LOL. this one touches a bit on kinich's lore on this universe (i.e. having dragon powers), and a lot of semi-romantic commitment to each other <3 i hope you enjoy, reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Your ears are ringing.

It had been sunset moments ago, you think. Your father had been delivering a speech to the people in the Capital square to celebrate your latest victory over the Abyssal army. Something had flashed in the distance, and suddenly, Kinich was saying something you couldn’t hear, running and leaping at you and tackling you to the ground, and—

What’s going on?

There’s a puff of breath hot against your neck. Your eyes open, and you flinch hard when Kinich is staring directly at you, multicolored irises boring into your own. He’s so close that your noses are brushing, that you’re sharing air.

What’s going on?

He groans, pushing the ruins of the building off his back—off of you. Your eyes sting from the smoke pooling in the sky. The distinct scent of ash and burning flesh permeates the air, and you nearly vomit from the stench.

“Kinich?” you breathe out.

What’s going on?

He hisses in a breath, hoisting the greatsword from his back—it flashes gold in the dying light. Taking a cursory glance around, he pushes himself to his knees.

“Listen. You’re going to stand up,” he commands, somehow calm, “and we’re going to run. Wait for my count.”

What’s going on?

You give him a once-over. He’s already injured, covered in fresh bruises and wounds. Your fingers twitch toward the growing patch of crimson over his stomach. “You’re bleeding—”

“Princess,” Kinich interrupts. There’s not a whisper of mirth in his tone, not like usual—this is the Captain of the Guard that you hear of so rarely. “Did you hear me? You’re going to stand up—”

Another blast rocks the ground, and you wince as dirt and gravel spray across your face. Kinich takes the brunt of it, shielding you with his body, and he coughs when a particularly large piece of debris slices across his back. The smoke grows thicker, you realize; you can see it coalescing above his head, snuffing out the sun.

What’s going on?

Your breathing comes in quick, but it doesn’t come out—in fact, you realize you can’t breathe at all. Your heartbeat quickens, pounding against your chest. You’re panicking.

Kinich glances over his shoulder at the carnage, then quietly curses; it’s probably much worse than you can see. You wonder if the citizens have already safely evacuated. You wonder about the king and queen—you hadn’t seen where they’d gone when Kinich first tackled you down.

What’s going on?

“My parents…where are they?” you choke out in a gasp. He attempts to pull you up, but you resist in your panic. “Kinich, wait—we have to find them. My parents, we have to—”

“Listen to me!”

A roar bursts from Kinich’s chest—it’s nothing compared to the cacophony that pierces the air, but it’s unfamiliar coming from someone like him. It shocks you into wide-eyed silence, and he takes you by the shoulders, touch contrastingly gentle. His gaze is hard, bypassing all your confusion and piercing right into your soul.

“You are my only priority right now.” Something explodes in the distance—he winces at the sound, tucking one hand under your neck and pulling you closer to his chest, protected. His voice echoes again, right at your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I can fight, and I can kill, and I can die, but you are going to make it out of here alive. That is what matters to me. I will do anything to keep you safe. So please stand up.”

No matter how much Kinich annoys you on a daily basis, deep down you know you need someone like him—someone who doesn’t care much to sugarcoat things for you, someone who rarely bothers with formalities, someone who overlooks your title in favor of you. His words are the gravity bringing you back to earth, and you only nod in reply.

He nods back, relieved. “Good. Don’t be afraid. I’m with you.”

Carefully, he loops your arms around his shoulders, and on his count, you heave yourself upwards. It hurts—you scream as it happens, every single one of your muscles and bones aching in protest. Kinich’s jaw sets tightly, teeth grinding together so hard you can practically hear it.

“I know it hurts, Princess,” he murmurs. Your combined weight is too much; he stabs his sword into the ground, using it as a cane to pull you forward. “Stay with me here.”

Every step is laborious. Battle still rages on around you, and it’s difficult to navigate the ruins in your state. The smoke grows thicker—Kinich tears a piece off his tattered cape, commanding you to hold it over your mouth and nose. For himself, he pulls down his headband, letting it mask the bottom half of his face. His hair is longer than you remember, bangs falling messily over his forehead. It’s a useless detail, but it’s all you can focus on in the havoc.

“You still with me?”

Kinich’s hand falls over yours, squeezing it once—a comfort. You squeeze back, trying to hold back the tears pricking at your eyes.

“I’m still here.”

Your voice cracks.

The sound of Abyssal beasts echoes, and your heartbeat quickens—you’ll be defenseless if they catch you. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem with Kinich by your side, but he’s more injured than he lets on. He grunts in pain with each step, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead from the exertion.

The more you move, the less everything makes sense. You can’t tell up from down or left from right. All you can hear is screams and moans of pain and the roars of monsters. One of them sounds from your immediate right—Kinich curses, and you sense something coming closer.

“We’ll have to fight,” he says hurriedly, scrambling to find somewhere to put you down.

Kinich always carries a dagger at his thigh, ever prepared in case he loses his sword, and he unsheathes it as he sets you on the ground. He presses the handle of it into your hand—your ribbon is still tied around the grip, a token of good luck, proof of your wish for his safety.

“If I fall, or the Abyss corrupts me, use this. Don’t forget what I taught you.”

“Kinich—”

“Promise me.”

His eyes say it all—he’s desperate, curling your fingers under his own so that you properly hold the blade, willing his remaining strength into you. Your grip tightens on the dagger, and you nod weakly. Kinich’s body sags in relief.

“May the Abyss take my soul if I ever abandon you,” he whispers, quoting his oath. It almost makes you nostalgic. You remember the ceremony well—he’d exuded a quiet strength even back then. “May my skin tear from bone if you ever suffer.”

It feels like a goodbye.

For the first time in the mess, you take a good look at his face, at the state of him. His left eye is swelling shut quickly. You thumb over the purpling skin, a single tear sliding down your cheek at the sheer damage. He’s already lost so much blood, a crimson flower blooming across his stomach. His armor is dirty and dinged with scratches, even burned away in certain places. You’re not sure how he’s still even moving.

You’ve always held a deep faith in Kinich’s abilities. He’s been the calm in the storms of your life until now, every assassination attempt, every obstacle, every misstep. You know it’s due to your own hesitation that he’d gotten this hurt, and it scares you—after all, he’s still mortal just like you. In his current state, he stands no chance against the army of Abyss monsters around you.

Your hand drags down to his cheek. “Kinich, leave me.”

He pulls away from your touch, gaze flashing with anger. “No.”

Your jaw tightens. “Kinich, that’s an order.”

He rises to his feet, unsteady, his greatsword lifted weakly at his side. The monsters are coming, drawing out of the darkness. “And I refuse it.”

His steps are unnaturally heavy as he staggers forward, cutting down one of the beasts. He fights with grace, even now, not a single movement wasted in his battle. You wish you’d asked him to teach you more—you can’t even move, but your mind screams at you to help him.

One of the monsters catches him in the back, and he roars out in pain before turning and stabbing it through the neck. He’s still fighting, but the fire within him is burning out quickly, and you can sense it. A patch of pixel-like scales flashes over his neck, a power bubbling just beneath the surface, but he can’t seem to draw it out fully—he’s too weak, too tired.

You push yourself up on your arms, trying to crawl toward him. Your throat is raw from the smoke and ash, but still you find the strength to scream.

“I am the princess of Natlan! You are bound by your duty to carry out my orders—”

He turns to you, pulling his headband off his face, and you gasp in a breath—his skin is painted in hues of green and gold, lines of tattoos criss-crossing his arms and legs, cutting across his features. He’s glowing so brightly that it burns the smoke away, until all you can see is your knight standing before you, defiant. His eyes meet yours, and despite the power that pours out of him, his expression is pleading.

“Fire me then, Princess. Exile me. Have me executed for disobeying you. Do whatever you want to me when this is all over, but for now, they’ll have to cut me down before they take another step toward you.”

Three more Abyssal monsters approach, claws flashing, and you scream as Kinich turns back to face them. They lunge before he can react, millimeters from cutting into his skin, and then—

A pulse vibrates under your feet just as a white-hot light explodes in front of you, burning into your eyes. You can’t tell who’s yelling—maybe it’s you, or maybe it’s Kinich, but it makes your eardrums ring and sting. You reach out desperately but find nothing.

Everything goes dark.

#genshin impact x reader #kinich x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x you #kinich #genshin impact #pixelprincess!au #adeptus ink

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moonlight-prose · 1 day

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since you kindly offered this brilliant piece I have a thot for you. giving logan nasty nasty head as he’s trying to eat dinner 🤭

note: i sat with this for several hours after we hung up and i could not get it out of my head. he's a munch. we know this. it's a fact (disney grow some balls and say it outloud). but my god is he a whore for some good head. give him sloppy toppy and he's wrapped around your finger; he's yours, ready to put a ring on it and drag you to the courthouse himself.

Dinner is a quiet affair in the Howlett household. It's mixed with soft conversation and intimate jokes. Comments about your days, hands held over the table as candle wax dripped over the yellowed cloth. It's warm - domestic.

But on nights when adrenaline ran a bit too high and wine began to drip heat down your spine, you found that you couldn't resist the pull of him.

He sat in his usual chair, legs spread and eyes tracking your movements as you left the kitchen. A bottle of wine in one hand, his whiskey in the other.

His grin is soft. A docile man who'd been tamed by the lover he never expected. And you can feel the heat begin to curl around your stomach. Tugging on the nerves that thrummed beneath your skin. He'd never realize how far gone you were for him; how every move and choice depended on whether or not he'd smile your way.

"Smells good sweetheart." His voice is low, the grit of husk behind each lilted drawl.

You could feel warmth flicker to life beneath the supple skin of your cheeks as his gaze continued to track how you sat in your chair. Eyes dragging down the figure clad a t-shirt that had seen better days and jeans with a gaping hole in the knee.

There was no denying you dressed for comfort. Logan still felt his cock stiffen at the sight of you in dark washed denim though.

The smile is pulled from the depths of your chest. "I couldn't decide what to make."

You know you sound flustered. You know your voice is higher than normal.

You know he caught it by the sharp glint of his teeth poking through an already crooked smile.

"I'll eat anythin' you make," he admits with a soft clack of his fork tapping his plate.

The double meaning isn't lost on you. In fact it shoots a hole right through your chest, floods your body with that syrupy thick heat that you feel drip down to the tips of your fingers. His nostrils flare - eyes glancing down to the table that covers your lap - before he's filling his mouth with food.

Honestly you can't even recall how it happened. The entire ordeal a hazy cloud of lust that had you slipping out of your seat, and dropping to your knees beneath the table. His eyes went wide as your hands pushed at his legs, forcing them to spread. And when he made no move to stop you, the rest clicked into place with ease.

Logan smells of his cigar he smoked after work. He smells of spice and the musk of sweat and leather from his jackets that hung in the hall closet.

He is everything you could possibly want in a husband. Everything you asked for checked off with a flourished hand and a welcomed smile.

"Baby what-" He chokes on his food when your hands undo his belt, the button of his jeans, and pull him free with a choked whine. "Oh fuck."

That. That's what you were looking for after a day filled with his absence. The stifled moan at the back of his throat when your tongue licked up his cock - whining when the taste of him burst across your taste buds. You couldn't deny yourself him when he let you suck on the head, spit trailing down your chin and into his lap.

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, fingers tightening around his fork, and it isn't until you've got him halfway down your throat does he understand what you want.

The clink of metal scratching porcelain sends heat down your spine. He moans around a mouthful of food as your head bobs, mouth sucking him in deeper, further, until he hits the back of your throat and makes you gag.

"You're fuckin' filthy for me aren't ya," he mutters, thumb rubbing into your skin. "Makin' me eat while you get dinner of your own."

Your eyes roll back, pussy clenching down hard around nothing. Because fuck he's right. You'd stay on your knees until pain flared up. You'd keep him down your throat until you lost the ability to speak.

You'd suck him dry morning, noon, and night to hear the noises that slipped past his lips.

"'M gonna give you want ya want baby," he grunts.

His hips rock up off the chair, hand pushing your head down further until your nose was buried in the dark hair tinged with the musky scent of him. It's wet and messy and spit has formed into globs that roll down the expanse of your throat.

You're so far gone all you can do is give a choked moan, body trembling as your lungs screamed for air.

That's the fucked up part though. You'd die on his cock if it meant getting to please him.

He cums with a harsh snap of your name, chest heaving and plate long forgotten. Shudders roll down your spine, slick pooling between your thighs as he spurts down your throat. Spilling out the sides of your mouth.

"Eat your dinner sweetheart so I can have some fuckin' desert."

#witch aunt responds #maria darling🪷#this one actually made me lightheaded so i gotta go stare at a wall or something #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #old man logan #logan thoughts & musings #my writing

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suhkusa · 2 days

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It’s dark outside when you wake up from your nap. You feel uncomfortable and weird in your day time clothes, so you slide out of your bed and quickly change. The time spent on your bed is short when you finally check your phone.

Your eyes widen when you read Osamu’s texts. You quickly type out a response on the lines of “sure,” before you’re sliding on your slippers and heading outside. As you close your door, you can hear the neighbor’s door swing open.

You can see his figure in the darkness, and you know he can see you as well. The two of you meet on the sidewalk that connects the walkways of your guys’ house.

“Hey, Y/N,” he sounds a bit tense, but it’s the same old Osamu if you had to guess.

“Hey,” you follow him in taking a seat on the curb. A good amount of distance between the two of you, but just enough where you could still make out his facial features in the dead of the night.

“How have you been?” Osamu starts the conversation. He’s staring off into the distance.

“I’ve been good, just finished up finals. You?”

“Same here, I suppose. And your friends?”

Your head tilts in thought, “They’re good as well,”

There’s a moment of silence before a question that has been poking at your mind finally works its way out.

“How come you’re back home? Isn’t there practice for the new season?”

You can see his eyebrows raise from your peripheral vision. Did you say something wrong?

“Oh, well,” his legs bend so he can hold his knees a bit closer, “I quit the team a while ago,”

Your eyes finally widen, “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Nono, it’s all good. A lot of people are shocked when I tell them, too,”

“How did Atsumu react?”

The man beside you laughs a bit to himself, “As bad as you’d expect. It was around the time that… you know, happened so he had a lot of emotions pent up already,”

“I see,” is all you’re able to manage.

You know. None of you ever seem to know what to call that situation. A few moments pass by as the two of you bask in quietness.

“Do you hate me?” his question catches you extremely off guard.

“What? No- I could never, ‘Samu,” your eyes are full of worry when you finally look his way. “I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like that. I care so much for you, even ‘Tsumu. I know I used to scold and fight with you a lot, but it’s because I really cared. You were my bestest friend at one point and it hurt to see you sabotaging your heart like that,”

“I-” Osamu runs a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry, too. For everything. I was childish and I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings for you. Atsumu came up with the idea. The truce, I mean. I just went with it, because on the off chance that you chose him, it meant he wouldn’t be able to have you,” but it happened anyways, you know he wants to say.

“I guess since it’s already out in the open, I can just say it. But I’ve liked you. I still like you. I’m sorry it’s stupid-”

You swiftly cut him off before he can continue, “It’s not stupid, like, at all. I liked you in our third year. I.. I was going to tell you but then you suddenly became distant, so the timing felt bad,”

Osamu sighs before tucking his face into his hands. “Fuck,” you hear him mutter under his breath.

“Is it really too late?”

If you were caught off guard earlier, you didn’t know what to call this gut-wrenching feeling now. You already know the answer, but you’re scared. You feel like you’ve already screwed up so much, that any little thing you do next will just end in pieces.

“It’s not,”

You see him peek up at you from where he was looking down, urging you to continue.

“I just… Just give me time, alright?”

All he does is nod in response.

And for once in your life, it feels the universe is finally reassuring you that it’ll be okay.

BOTH AIN’T SH!T ( OSAMU VER.) — TIME

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTES.

osamu was falling asleep when y/n texted back but he jumped up when he heard the notif

his phone’s volume button is broken from throwing it after he texted

atsumu cried when he was fighting with osamu because too much was happening at the time (part of him felt guilty too)

#haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu smau #hq smau #hq angst #osamu smau #osamu miya x reader #raeworks

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holylulusworld · 1 day

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Compensation (3)

Summary: No one messes with Walter Marshall.

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warning: angst, a lil plot twist, scared reader, fluff, possessive Walter, language

Compensation (2)

“I know it’s not your apartment, but please, make yourself home, princess,” Walter murmurs as he follows you inside the guest room. It’s not far away from the master bedroom, the one Walter inhabits.

The luxurious bedroom looks bigger than your former apartment. It’s part of his well-designed home. Everything in the room looks brand new and expensive. From the vanity table to the chaise lounge. There is a velvety, high-end carpet placed under the luxurious four-poster bed.

“I know you must be tired, but let me give you a tour,” he says and wraps one arm around your shoulders. Walter guides you toward a door on the other side of the huge room. His warmth is almost unbearable. You want to bask in it and feel safe, but you can’t.

Walter drops his arm from around your shoulders to point at the door.

“Walk-in wardrobe. Through the other door is a bathroom, with a shower, a bathtub, and everything you’ll need.”

You can't find your voice, so you nod. Everything is just too much. Your boss killed a man for you. Your home got destroyed. And now he wants you to live with him.

Why? You have no clue.

“How about you take a warm bath and get settled in? I’ll be right next door, Y/N. If you need anything, the door to the left is mine.” He smirks when you look up at him with big, wide eyes. “You’re safe here. Nothing will happen to you on my watch.”

He finally steps away, letting you breathe. Walter looks you all over again, humming as you look adorable in his sweater. It’s too big for you and reaches your knees.

“Thank you,” you murmur; it’s all you can do. “For everything.”

Walter hesitates for a moment. He stares at you for what feels like hours before he cups your face with his right hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll have everything you need. Get some sleep now.”

And then he turns around to leave you even more stunned. You can still feel the warmth of his hand on your skin when the door shuts behind him.

You stare at the door for a little longer before you turn toward the walk-in wardrobe. Opening the door, you gasp. You expected it to be empty, not filled with clothes.

You slowly walk inside, glancing at the pretty clothes. Dresses from designers you only ever saw in fashion magazines, soft sweaters, and shoes in every form. Nightgowns, pajamas, even socks. Everything is your size.

“That’s impossible,” you grab one of the sweaters, frowning because it’s brand new. “How can he know my size?” Even if Walter knew your size, how did he manage to get so many clothes in such a short amount of time?

You’re overwhelmed once again. Stumbling out of the wardrobe, you make your way toward the bathroom door. Maybe if you splash cold water on your face, you’ll wake from this dream.

“I said no!” Walter barks on the phone. “I don’t want to meet up tonight or any other night.” He makes a face as one of his regular sex dates purrs filthy things. “Stop that, or I’ll make you stop. Never call me again. I have someone now."

He hangs up the phone, immediately blocking her number.

“You have someone now?” Rachel cocks a brow. “I didn’t know you’re dating. When did that happen?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Walter waves her off, not in the mood to explain his love life to her. “I’m not into Chanel any longer. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No.” She shakes her head. Rachel tries to stay professional, never getting involved in her boss’s private life. “I was just wondering if you need us to protect the new woman in your life.”

“She’s not for you to worry about.” He dips his head to glance at Rachel. “I need you to check on the whereabouts of Y/N’s ex-boyfriend. Find me some dirt I can use against him. That fucker has to stay away from her.”

“Why not find a final solution?” Rachel questions. “I can send someone to get rid of him.”

“The cops would connect the dots, Rachel. Y/N works for me. She lives at my place. Suddenly her ex disappears?” He huffs. “We cannot risk drawing too much attention toward us and our business.”

“Got it, boss. I’ll find all the dirt you want.

Opening the cabinet in the bathroom, you frown. There’s lots of makeup, creams, lotions, and everything you could wish for. Everything is unopened.

The expensive shampoo and conditioner are the ones you always wanted to try. You shake your head. How could Walter possibly know about all that?

No. He can’t. Maybe one of his girlfriends liked the brand, and he had some left to give to you. This must be it. Everything else doesn’t make sense...

You decide to forget about what happened and do what Walter told you to do. You’re going to take a warm bath and try to get some sleep.

“No!” You wake up screaming. The soft blanket clutched to your chest, you stare at the door when it bursts open. Walter storms into the room, a gun in his hands.

“Princess?” He steps inside your room, looking for an intruder. “What happened? Are you hurt? Did someone try to hurt you?”

You’re panting heavily, close to panicking. “I-I…he…” You shake your head, and Walter sighs. He had hope you’re going to heal knowing the man attacking you is dead. How foolish of him. Of course, you won’t get over what happened so easily.

“It was a nightmare,” he concludes and steps even closer to your bed. Walter looks at you, clinging to the blanket. “Do you want me to stay?”

He presses his hands to his sides to not scare you even more. You look at him, wrinkling your forehead. “I can sleep on the floor or on the chaise lounge.”

Dipping your head, you look at the small chaise lounge. A huge man like Walter could never sleep comfortably on the furniture.

“I don’t know,” you tug at the blanket, eyes darting from Walter’s face to the gun in his hand. “Would you?”

“Sure, princess,” Walter murmurs your name as he secures his gun. He puts it on the nightstand before he turns to close the door. You’re nervously chewing on your lower lip. Your boss is crawling under the covers to lie next to you. His big hands reach out for you to bring you into his arms.

You go stiff when he nuzzles his face in your neck. “I’m here, Y/N. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe with me, princess. Always.”

“Okay, Walter wants the dirt. Get it!” Rachel barks orders at the tech nerd they hired some months ago. “Oh, and do me a favor.” She runs her hand over Jensen’s back. “Check on Y/N Y/L/N and her father too.”

“Why?” Jensen frowns. “The boss wanted me to do the same months ago. I thought he was satisfied with the information I gave to him.”

Rachel frowns deeply. “Months ago?”

“Yup. Boss wants me to check on every employee, but damn, he even wanted to know about her favorite ice cream.” Jensen grins before typing away on his keyboard. “Does he want me to print him everything again? I bet he accidentally threw it away.”

“Can you send me everything to my account?” Rachel asks. “And not a word to Walter. I want to check on her background again. I need to be sure he didn’t overlook an important detail.”

“Not much to find out about her,” Jensen shrugs. “Her parents died in an accident. Nothing interesting or fishy about it. She’s a single child. Do you want me to continue?”

“Her parents are dead.” She frowns deeply. "Compensation, my ass!” Rachel exclaims before glaring at Jensen. “I want everything you got on her, her parents, and everyone she ever talked to. If you tell Walter about this, I’ll cut your tongue out!”

You fell asleep faster than Walter expected. His warmth and two strong arms wrapped around you made you feel safe.

“I’ve got you, princess.” He murmurs in your neck. “I knew when I saw you that first day after you came to my town that you’re going to be mine.”

Walter closes his eyes to allow himself to get some sleep too. He regrets nothing. Having you finally in his arms was worth all the effort.

The only thing he regrets is that he couldn’t stop the bastard from attacking you. Walter should’ve made a move on you sooner. Your attacker would’ve stayed away from you knowing you’re Walter Marshall’s girlfriend...

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

#Compensation (3)#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #mafia au #mobster!walter marshall #walter marshall x you #female reader #walter marshall x y/n

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rootedinrevisions · 2 days

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Unplanned Journeys: Part 2

SUMMARY: The journey through pregnancy unfolds as you and Jake navigate each milestone together. From the nerves at your first doctor’s appointment to the tender moment when Jake notices your baby bump for the first time, everything feels more real with each step. At the anatomy scan, you find out the gender, sparking sweet discussions about names and the future. As you work together to set up the nursery, Jake’s suggestion to move in makes your growing family feel even more complete. Finally, the big day arrives, and after an exhausting labor, you hold your baby in your arms—marking the beginning of the next chapter of your life.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST one more part to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The sterile scent of the clinic filled the air as you sat in the waiting room, nervously tapping your foot against the tiled floor. The crinkle of a magazine in your lap was the only thing distracting you from the tight knot in your stomach.

It was a familiar setting—nothing new about doctor's offices, after all. I mean you'd been to the doctor's before. But today felt different. Monumental.

Jake sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles. Every so often, his gaze would flicker over to you, checking in silently. His calm presence should have grounded you, but the nerves were relentless, pulsing under your skin. This wasn’t just any appointment. This was the first time you’d be seeing your baby.

“Breathe,” Jake murmured softly, his voice low so only you could hear. “You’re squeezing the life out of that magazine.”

You glanced down, realizing your knuckles were white as you gripped the edges of the glossy pages.

You let out a shaky breath and loosened your hold, giving him a small smile. “I didn’t even notice.”

“I did,” he said with a teasing grin, but his eyes were soft. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to feel that same confidence radiating from him, but the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind. What if something was wrong? What if—

The sound of your name being called jolted you out of your thoughts. You stood up, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, and Jake rose with you, his hand slipping into yours. His grip was firm, reassuring, as you followed the nurse down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.

The exam room was small but cozy, with pale blue walls and an exam bed in the center. The ultrasound machine sat next to it, and just seeing the equipment sent another wave of nerves washing over you. This was really happening.

The nurse smiled kindly, gesturing for you to take a seat on the exam table. “We'll have you go ahead and undress from the waist down. You can lie back and make yourself comfortable. The doctor will be in shortly.”

As you lay back, the flimsy paper sheet thing they had given you covered your midsection down to your thighs. Your stomach twisted with anticipation. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but Jake was there. He took your hand, his thumb tracing small patterns on the back of your hand.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he repeated, his voice steady and calm. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. You wanted to believe him—to trust that everything would be fine—but the uncertainty still clung to you.

Moments later, the doctor entered, a friendly smile on her face as she introduced herself. She explained what would happen at this appointment in a calm, soothing tone, but you barely registered the words. Your mind was too busy spinning with possibilities. Would there be a heartbeat? Would everything look normal?

The doctor dimmed the lights and began preparing the ultrasound machine. Your breath hitched as she spread the cool gel across your abdomen, and you instinctively squeezed Jake’s hand a little tighter. His other hand moved to brush a stray hair from your forehead, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You ready?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out. You’re not in this alone.”

His words gave you just the slightest bit of comfort, enough to make you nod as Dr. Bennett pressed the probe gently against your belly. The room went silent for a moment, the sound of the machine whirring softly in the background as the image on the screen flickered to life.

And then you heard it.

A soft, rhythmic thump. Steady and strong.

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. There it was. The heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat.

“There we go,” the doctor said with a smile, her eyes focused on the screen. “Everything looks good so far. Strong heartbeat.”

You stared at the monitor, unable to tear your eyes away from the little flicker of life that appeared on the screen. Your baby. It was so small, just a tiny blip, but it was there. Real. Alive.

Jake’s hand tightened around yours, and when you looked over at him, you saw the same awe mirrored in his expression. His eyes were fixed on the screen, his usual confident, laid-back demeanor replaced by something softer—something you had never seen before.

His lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something, but no words came out. He was just as overwhelmed as you were.

Tears pricked at your eyes, the emotion of it all finally hitting you. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been holding in until this moment—until you saw the heartbeat, heard that steady rhythm, and knew that everything was okay.

Jake finally spoke, his voice quiet but filled with awe. “That’s… that’s our baby.”

You nodded, too choked up to speak, the tears spilling over. Jake’s hand moved from yours to gently brush them away, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

You nodded again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear or doubt. It was because you finally believed it. Everything was going to be okay.

The doctor smiled warmly, snapping a few images for you to take home before wiping the gel off your stomach. “You’re measuring right on track. I’ll see you again in four weeks, but everything looks great.”

As she left the room, Jake turned to you, his eyes still wide with disbelief but now filled with a quiet kind of joy. “That was… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“I know,” you whispered, your heart still racing from the rush of emotions. “I can’t believe it either.”

He reached out, gently placing a hand on your stomach, where the gel had just been wiped away. His touch was soft, reverent, as if he was afraid to press too hard. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

You covered his hand with yours, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Yeah,” you said, your voice full of wonder. “We really are.”

Jake smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache with affection. And for the first time since finding out, you felt the panic slip away. You were scared, yes—but with Jake by your side, you knew you could handle whatever came next.

Together.

* * * * *

You stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped loosely around your body as you brushed your hair, your reflection catching your eye more than usual. Something had changed. It was subtle—barely noticeable unless you really looked—but it was there. The soft curve of your belly, just below the towel line, had begun to take shape.

You placed your hand on it, fingers tracing the gentle swell. It felt strange, unfamiliar, and yet… there was something deeply comforting about it. A quiet reminder of the life growing inside you, inching its way into the world.

Jake was in the other room, probably scrolling through his phone or flipping channels, oblivious to the tiny moment of realization you were having. The baby bump hadn’t fully registered with you yet either, but standing here, in the soft morning light filtering through the bathroom window of his place, you couldn’t deny it. Your body was changing. The bump was there.

Part of you wanted to hide it for a little longer, to savor this secret for yourself. But a bigger part—one that was filled with excitement and curiosity—wanted to share it with Jake. To see the look on his face when he realized just how real this was becoming.

After drying off and slipping into one of Jake’s old t-shirts, you wandered into his bedroom where he was sprawled on the bed, head propped on one hand as he absentmindedly flicked through a football game.

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched him. He didn’t even notice you at first, too engrossed in the game. But eventually, he must have sensed your gaze, because he turned his head, his eyes finding yours instantly.

“Hey,” he said, grinning lazily. “What’s up?”

You hesitated for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before you took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bed. “I… I want to show you something.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, his curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

Your heart fluttered with nerves, but you moved to stand in front of him, the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your frame. You took another breath, then lifted the hem of the shirt just enough to reveal the small, gentle swell of your belly.

Jake’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened, his breath catching as he stared at the bump, the soft curve that hadn’t been there before. For a moment, he didn’t say anything—he just looked, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. Not just any smile—one of those rare, breathtaking smiles that lit up his whole face, eyes crinkling at the corners, as if he’d just discovered something truly magical.

“Is that…?” he started, his voice soft with awe, before trailing off. He reached out, his hand hovering near your belly like he was asking permission.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

His hand made contact, fingers splayed gently over the bump, as if he was afraid to press too hard. He rubbed his thumb lightly against your skin, tracing the small curve with a mixture of wonder and joy. It was like he couldn’t get enough of the moment—couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that this was real.

“That’s… that’s our baby.”

You smiled, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked down at him, his expression so full of love it made your heart ache. “Yeah,” you whispered back. “I'm starting to show.”

Jake shook his head slightly, still in awe, his hand moving slowly over the bump like he was trying to memorize the feel of it. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your stomach. “I mean… I know we’ve been talking about it, but seeing this—it’s real, isn’t it?”

You nodded, feeling the same mix of disbelief and excitement swirling inside you. “Yeah,” you said softly. “It’s real.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes shining with emotion. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Even more beautiful than before.”

A warm flush spread across your cheeks at his words, but before you could respond, Jake stood up, pulling you gently into his arms. His hands settled on your waist, his thumbs brushing the bump as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I can’t believe I missed this,” he said with a small laugh, his lips still close to your skin. “How long have you noticed?”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest as you let out a quiet laugh. “Not long,” you admitted. “I only really noticed today.”

Jake pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. “Well, I’m glad you showed me,” he said, his smile still lighting up his face. “I don’t want to miss any of this. Not a single second.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw. “You won’t,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “We’re in this together, remember?”

He nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips—soft and sweet, filled with all the emotions neither of you could quite put into words.

As the kiss ended, Jake’s hands found their way back to your belly, his fingers brushing over the bump again. He looked down, his face full of wonder as if he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“This is crazy,” he murmured with a small chuckle, shaking his head. “But it’s also… amazing.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for him. “Yeah,” you said softly. “It really is.”

Jake wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you close, and for the first time, the two of you just stood there, holding each other, feeling the tiny life growing between you. It was a quiet, beautiful moment—a shared realization that everything was changing, but in the best way possible.

* * * * *

The soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small exam room as you lay back on the table, Jake seated beside you, his hand tightly holding yours. The lights were dim, and the air was thick with a mix of nerves and anticipation. You weren’t sure if it was the faint chill of the gel the technician had spread across your belly or the fact that in just a few minutes, everything would feel a little more real.

Jake squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing small circles into your palm, silently telling you that he was right there with you, just as anxious and excited as you were. You turned your head to look at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile on his face, though his eyes were glued to the monitor in front of you.

“Alright, let’s take a look,” the technician said, her voice calm and friendly as she moved the ultrasound wand over your belly. The screen flickered with shapes and shadows, the sound of the baby’s heartbeat filling the room, a rhythmic thud that made your own heart skip a beat.

Jake’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as both of you stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the images. The technician moved the wand slowly, explaining the different parts—the baby’s head, arms, legs. But the moment you’d both been waiting for was still ahead.

“Are you ready to find out?” the technician asked, her eyes flicking between the two of you.

You nodded, biting your lip, a nervous excitement bubbling up inside you. Jake leaned closer, his eyes wide with anticipation.

The technician smiled, and with a small movement of the wand, she pointed at the screen. “Congratulations,” she said softly. “You’re having a baby boy.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, sinking in. A boy. You felt Jake’s hand tense, then relax as a slow grin spread across his face. He glanced at you, his eyes shining with pure, unfiltered joy.

“A boy,” he murmured, the words barely audible, as if he was saying them more to himself than to you.

You smiled back at him, your heart full. “Yeah,” you whispered. “A boy.”

Jake let out a small laugh, his free hand moving to rest on your belly, his thumb brushing over the slight bump. “A little man,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “I can’t believe it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the relief and excitement finally washing over you. Everything felt a little more real now, a little more tangible. You had a son—a baby boy who was going to turn your entire world upside down in the best possible way.

After a few more minutes of watching the baby wiggle on the screen, the technician handed you some printed images from the scan, and soon you and Jake were heading out of the clinic, stepping into the cool air of the parking lot.

The ride home was quiet at first, the two of you still processing the news. Jake’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, the soft buzz of the radio playing in the background. You glanced over at him, noticing how he was still grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You’re really excited, huh?” you teased, though the warmth in your voice gave away just how much you loved seeing him this happy.

Jake glanced at you, his smile widening. “Hell yeah, I’m excited. We’re having a boy. That’s… that’s huge.”

You nodded, feeling the same excitement bubbling up again. “I know. It’s crazy.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, but you could feel Jake thinking, his mind already racing ahead. And then, almost predictably, he asked the question you’d been waiting for.

“So,” he started, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity, “have you thought about any names?”

You let out a small laugh, turning to look at him. “Of course I’ve thought about names,” you said. “I’ve been scrolling through Pinterest boards for weeks now. I’ve got a whole list.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Oh yeah? Let’s hear ‘em.”

You pulled your phone out, scrolling through your saved baby names. “Okay, well… I’ve always liked the name ‘Caleb.’ It’s kind of classic but not too common, you know?”

Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Caleb’s nice. What else you got?”

“Uh, let’s see… there’s ‘Wyatt,’ ‘Eli,’ and ‘Noah,’” you said, rattling off a few more names you’d saved.

Jake seemed to consider them for a moment, but then he let out a soft chuckle. “Those are good,” he said, his tone warm. “But, uh, I was kind of thinking about something more… I don’t know, meaningful? Maybe a family name.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious now. “A family name?”

Jake nodded, glancing at you again. “Yeah, like… well, my granddad’s name was ‘Jameson.’ I always thought that was a strong name. And my dad’s middle name was ‘Robert.’”

“Jameson Robert,” you repeated, testing it out. “That’s pretty solid.”

Jake smiled, clearly pleased. “Right? It sounds like a name you could grow into. A name with some weight behind it.”

You couldn’t help but grin at how serious he sounded. It was clear Jake had already been thinking about this—probably long before today. “I like it,” you said. “But we don’t have to decide right now. We’ve still got time to figure it out.”

Jake nodded, his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, you’re right. I just… I don’t know, I kind of like the idea of carrying on some of the family names. But I’m open to anything.”

You smiled, leaning back in your seat as you watched the landscape pass by outside the window. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said softly. “Besides, we’ve still got a few months to pick the perfect name.”

Jake chuckled, glancing at you with that easy, warm smile of his. “Yeah,” he said. “But I’m calling it now—he’s gonna be a little Jameson.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see about that.”

The rest of the drive home was filled with easy conversation, tossing baby names back and forth and laughing about which ones definitely didn’t make the cut. You felt lighter than you had in weeks, the excitement of the day settling into something quieter, something deeper.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, the two of you hadn’t landed on a final name, but it didn’t matter. You still had time. What mattered was that you were in this together—building a family, one moment at a time.

* * * * *

You stood in the small bedroom of your apartment, surveying the space that had felt cozy just a few months ago but now seemed increasingly cramped with the realization that a baby was on the way. Jake was pacing the floor, tossing around ideas for rearranging the furniture, while you tried to mentally picture how everything could fit.

“What if we move the dresser to the other side?” Jake suggested, pointing toward the corner where a floor lamp barely fit. “Then we could push the bed over, and maybe…” He paused, considering the layout again. “I don’t know, it just feels tight in here.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, it’s going to be a challenge. I wasn’t exactly planning on having a baby when I moved in here.”

Jake leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and looked at you with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he said slowly, “I was thinking… maybe you could just move into my place.”

You blinked, surprised by the suggestion. “Your place? But we’ve only been together a few months, and now with everything that’s happened…” Your voice trailed off as you considered the implications.

He straightened up, stepping closer. “I mean it. My place has two bedrooms. We can easily turn one into a nursery, and I want you and the baby close to me. We could be a family.”

The warmth in his voice sent a flutter through your chest. You searched his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. “Are you sure? This is a big step. We haven’t even been together a year yet.”

Jake nodded firmly, the look in his eyes unwavering. “I know it’s fast, but I want to do this together. I want you both with me. I don’t want to miss a moment once he gets here.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a mix of excitement and anxiety flooding you. “It’s just… a lot to think about.”

He reached out, pulling you into a warm embrace. “I get it, but we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this. We can make it work.”

As you melted into his arms, you felt the weight of your worries begin to lift. The idea of moving in with Jake was both daunting and exhilarating, but deep down, you knew he was right. It would be good for all of you.

Pulling back slightly, you looked into his eyes, your smile growing. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Jake’s face broke into a wide grin, and he lifted you off the ground in excitement. “Really? You mean it?”

You nodded, laughing as he set you back down. “Yeah, I mean it. I’m just as scared as I am excited, but I want this. I want us to be a family, and I want us to be together.”

Jake’s smile softened, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Then it’s settled. Let’s make it happen.”

You felt a rush of happiness as you both embraced again, knowing that despite the challenges ahead, you had each other. You could build a home together, and soon enough, you’d be welcoming your little one into the world.

* * * * *

The day had stretched into what felt like an eternity, filled with anticipation, exhaustion, and a whirlwind of emotions. You lay in the hospital bed, beads of sweat on your forehead, clutching Jake’s hand tightly. He was your anchor, whispering words of encouragement and squeezing your fingers every time a contraction rolled through you.

“You’re doing amazing, babe,” he said softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. His voice was a calming presence amid the chaos, and every time you met his gaze, you felt a surge of strength.

Hours passed, and the pain became almost unbearable, but you pressed on, motivated by the thought of finally holding your baby in your arms. You could feel the excitement in the room as the medical staff prepared for the final moments. Jake stayed right by your side, never leaving you, his eyes filled with concern and love.

Finally, with one last push, the cries of your baby filled the room, piercing through the haze of pain and exhaustion. Your heart raced as you heard that precious sound, a mixture of relief and joy flooding through you. The nurses gently placed the tiny bundle on your chest, and you looked down, tears brimming in your eyes.

There he was—your son. His little face, scrunched up and wailing, filled you with a warmth you had never known. You glanced up at Jake, who was beaming, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the sight of his son for the first time.

Jake leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “You did it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s perfect.”

You smiled through your tears, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and pride. “Look at him,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s ours.”

Jake nodded, his eyes glistening as he gazed at the two of you. “We’re a family now.”

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The pain of labor faded into the background, replaced by an all-consuming love for this tiny human that you had created together. You felt Jake’s hand wrap around yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he leaned in to share the joy of this incredible moment.

As you cradled your son against your chest, the world around you fell silent. It was just you, Jake, and your beautiful baby boy, the three of you beginning this new chapter together.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader

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gunaerystargarygun · 2 days

Text

The brain worms continue to infest my brain.

Posted on Ao3, but posting here as well: Here's my contribution to the Stan x Reader genre.

Tags: Vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, porn with mild plot, c'mon you guys know me at this point.

Know When to Fold 'Em

"Thanks for all your help, you're doin great, dood!" Soos's voice is full of pride, contentment as you hand over small zipped bag, the profits of the day. You smile, giving a slight shrug of your shoulders. "Soos, you've told me that every day for the past two years."

"And I mean it every time! Can't imagine runnin' this place without ya," he beams at you, his crooked smile making your own smile grow a little larger. Despite him being a few years younger than you, he makes a fantastic boss. "Can't believe Mr. Pines thought you was gonna be useless when I hired ya."

Well, that makes the smile drop.

You met Mr. Pines, well, both Mr. Pines when you got a job here at the shack, cashier and handyperson. A little odd, yes, but you needed the job and for a tourist trap? The place paid well enough, you could afford a small house and just about everything else you needed. You tap your foot, pressing your lips together. "Soos, not that I don't appreciate the words of encouragement, but you don't have to be up here." You throw a thumb over your shoulder and gesture to the shack. "I'm sure Melody could use your help with the baby."

"You sure? I feel kinda bad leavin' you here with all the clean up and restocking." Just as you're about to assure him that you're more than capable of restocking bobble heads and putting out minimally designed bumper stickers, the doorbell chimes and another voice breaks in. "Don't worry about it, Soos. I'll make sure everything gets put back in its place." The old Mr. Mystery poses in front of you. He stands tall, a rather tacky Hawaiian shirt with luau girls and surfboards plastered on it, a pair of khakis completing the look. He stretches his arms out in a flourish, making his entrance more grand.

You roll your eyes slightly, it's the same every time he comes into the shack, which...has been quite a lot, recently. "I haven't had a complaint once," you remark as Stanley begins to look around the place.

"That's cause Soos is too nice of a boss," he says, running his finger along the underside of the checkout counter. "See all this dust? Unbelievable!" He sticks out a finger towards your face, which you squint at.

"There's nothing there."

"To the untrained eye, maybe! This place may as well be covered in mud." You grumble an unhappy sound before Soos speaks up again. "Ah c'mon, Mr. Pines, they're a great worker!" Soos' arm comes around you in a one sided hug, squeezing you tight against his side. "Say, you been around a lot." Soos relaxes his grip on you, which lets you take in a deep breath. "You miss runnin' the shack?"

"What? No, no." He waves a hand dismissively. "Just makin' sure my life's work is still up and runnin', you know. Plus, the kids loved this place."

That was true. You had the pleasure of meeting the twins at the start of this summer. The girl, Mabel, was charming as all get out - she even made you a sweater, which you promised to wear in the colder months. The young boy, Dipper? A little surly. You swore he was running tests on when you weren't looking, or was trying to, anyway. At least by the end of the summer, whatever anxiety he had about you seemed to wash away.

"Okay! I'm gonna trust this place to yous guys. Lock up!" Soos waves his goodbyes, disappearing from the gift shop and somewhere into the house.

"I can handle this, you know?" You make your way to the small storage closet, taking out a box and ripping it open.

"I'm sure you can," he shrugs his shoulders. "Just makin' sure you do it right." Stanley then makes his way behind the register and takes a seat. You stand, blinking.

"What?" He asks.

"Aren't you going to help?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I'm not helpin' like that. I'm supervisin' ya," he laughs, slapping his own knee before propping them up on the counter.

You don't know why you expected anything different. You've known Stanley for the better part of two years and while he certainly has his redeeming qualities, being extra helpful isn't one of them. You sigh, and begin unpacking the restocks.

To your surprise, Stan is the one who strikes up the conversation. It's simple questions at first, how the shack has been, the types of tourists that've been coming around, and how Soos has been running the place. Whenever you think you finish with an answer, he probes for me, and you notice, his eyes stay on you a large majority of the time.

You feel your face flush a little with that.

Finally, the restocking is done, and you get the broom. Minimal housekeeping; the weather has been dry, so no mud. "You got any plans tonight?" The question catches you off guard, making you turn completely around to face Stan.

"Uh, other than eating a frozen pizza? No. Why?"

"Wanna play a couple round of cards?" He stuffs his hands in his khaki pockets, shrugging, as if he doesn't care how you answer the question. The way he shifts his attention to the floor, however, makes you think otherwise. "Ford's out on a nature hike, or whatever it is that nerds do in the woods, so I got no plans myself."

"Sure." You answer. "Sounds like fun, and beats eating the pizza alone."

By the look of quick surprise, he clearly wasn't expecting you to say yes. He shrugs it off fast enough, shooting a finger gun at you. "Perfect! What's the address? I'll be over at seven." You grab a pen and paper, scribbling it down and passing it over.

Huh, this'll be the first time he sees your house. You think that you better clean up a little bit, not that you think he'd particularly care, but still.

It takes very little to actually clean up your house. A few stray pieces of clothing that make it to the hamper (you missed each time you threw it in, but who's here to see?) and washing a few of the dishes. Just as you finish putting the pizza in, there's a knock at your door.

You hurry up, stopping at the mirror in the hallway just before the door, and look at yourself. You smooth out your shirt, nodding and opening the door.

Stanley stands on your porch with a twelve pack in one hand and two bottles of liquor, held precariously by the neck, in the other. He's still in the same outfit from earlier, but the top few buttons are undone. Were they like that earlier? "Figured it'd be impolite if I only brought it for myself," he shrugs the pack in his arm a little, the bottles clinking together. He glances around. "Nice place."

"Thanks," you say, stepping to the side and letting him in. "Just set it on the table." You watch as he strides through your house, the pack of alcohol landing with a thump while the bottles settle down nicely. He pulls out a chair, easing into it as he props up a foot on one of his knees. The way he leans against the table...

"Where's the cards?" You clear your throat, sliding out a chair across from him and taking a seat. You need something else to distract you.

"Right here," he sticks a hand in his pocket and pulls out a rather beat-up-looking deck of cards and slaps them on the table. "You shuffle, or me?" You eye the cards for a moment, reaching out and grabbing the deck.

"I will." The cards are pleasantly worn, and you can't help but wonder how much use these things have gotten. "Go easy on me? Been a while since I played."

"First rounds are on me," he nods. "Don't try and pull the wool over my eyes." He playfully points an accusatory finger at you.

"I know, I know." You cut the deck, shuffling them thoroughly before dealing them out.

It's...pleasant. You didn't expect it to be unpleasant, to be fair, but aside from the one off times of drinking, there's a handful of times when the two of you have been alone together. Stan takes the time to tell you a wild tale of when he was a "much younger buck," when he managed to steal a shipment of some undisclosed items from a smuggler. It's amusing, even if it isn't real. You can never tell with him.

Eventually, the oven dings and the pizza is ready. It's served, and you bring two glasses out as well. Before the beer, Stan reaches for the liquor and twists off the cap. "Want one?" You press your lips together, thinking for a moment.

"Hit me." It's a guesstimate on how much a shot would be. Or maybe two.

Either way, you wait until Stan pours his before clinking your glasses together and downing it. Whiskey may not be your go-to, especially when it's warm, but the burn in your throat has a familiar comfort. You cough a little, shaking your head and nodding. "Strong." You comment.

"That's the point." He says. Stan sticks out his hand, wiggling his fingers as a sign to hand the cards over. You do, still reeling from the shot as you fish out a bottle of beer. It goes down much easier than the whiskey.

You try very hard to not stare at his hands, but it's difficult. It wasn't something you noticed immediately, but Stan's hands are.... big. Large. Pretty much every synonym for big is how you would describe them, and you vaguely recall the one time you touched them as you passed him something in the shop. They were rough, calloused, but also incredibly warm.

You're not drunk enough to blame that thought on the alcohol right now, so you just push it from your mind as he deals the cards.

Once again, things go back to being pleasant. You nurse your beer as the cards continue to get played, one bottle quickly multiplying between the two of you, along with the cash piling in the center of the table. The conversation steers to him telling you about the adventures he had with the Twins, an endearing tone in his voice that you can't help but smile at. The pizza gets devoured, and when you glance up to the clock, you realize that it's almost eleven o'clock. Have you really been here this long?

That's when it clicks in your alcohol muddled brain.

Stan is lonely. He's been in the shop almost every day for the past week, since the twins left, and even before then, he and the twins were around quite a bit. It would make sense, he went from being around them, his brother, Soos's family, and you for almost three months straight. You look down at the cards, your focus fading for a moment before he speaks.

"Think I mighta run you outta money," he gestures to the table. Your attention turns to it and yeah, there's a decent pile of cash on it. You're pretty sure there's also monopoly money in there, but you're a little too drunk to really notice. "Got anything else to bet?" You think for a moment, tapping the table.

"M'clothes." You answer, plainly. He stares at you.

"Uh, didn't quite catch that?"

"M'CLOTHES." You say it in a louder tone, making sure he can hear it this time. "S'all I got, I'm not up for bettin' my appliances." You point at the blender that sits atop the counter.

"C'mon," he rubs at the back of his neck. "That'd involve me takin' my clothes off too, you don't wanna see that."

"What if I told you that's why I suggested it?" holy shit, why are you saying this? Why are you suddenly so bold, what the hell is in this drink?

"I'd tell ya, you should stop teasin' an old man." You grab the deck of cards, shuffling them in the absolutely worst way ever before slamming them back on the table and pushing them over to him. "Deal 'em."

"You're too drunk for this." The rather sincere reply catches you off guard.

"No, I'm not." You say, stern in your rebuttal. "Look." You jump to your feet, a little wobbly, and begin putting one foot in front of the other, walking a line in the linoleum of your kitchen. While you're not walking perfectly straight, you're doing better than expected. You think so, anyway. "See? I'm f-" just as you're about to finish your sentence, you perform the miraculous feat of tripping over air. You fall a freshly logged tree.

You expect to crash to the floor in the most painful crash since the last time you went to the roller rink, but you never meet the ground. Slowly, you open your eyes, staring up at him. You must have spun in your fall, his hands tucked under your armpits. "What were you sayin' about bein sober enough?" Oh, he's so fucking smug about this.

"I trip on nothin' all the time, drinkin' doesn't have anything to do with this." you weakly shrug your hands, but this close, you catch the smell on him. Mixed with the alcohol, you can catch the scent of cigar smoke, but something faintly woodsy and earthy. It takes everything in you to not sniff at the air. "Uh-huh." he chuckles.

There's a brief moment of silence that passes over the two of you. He doesn't make a move to pull you up, but you're not making a move to get up, either. Instead, you raise a hand and gently press it against his cheek. "You're handsome." You mumble.

"Oh, you're fuckin' wasted."

That makes you twist in his grip. You manage to push yourself to your knees, putting your face just a few inches away from his. "Stop talkin' like I don't mean it."

"You don't mean it."

"I mean this." You grab the sides of his tacky Hawaiian shirt and pull him forward. Your lips crash against his, not realizing how hard you pulled him into you. The scrape of his stubble burns against your chin, a slight shiver running through you. There's the faint taste of tobacco that lingers on him, the chapped skin of his lips. It isn't how you expected this to happen, but to be quite frank, you didn't think this was ever going to happen.

It's only a moment later that you realize he hasn't made a move to kiss you back. He hasn't done anything. You quickly pull back, embarrassed. Why did you do that? God, you're never drinking again. You're not even an alcoholic, and you're planning to go to a 12 step program the second you get sober enough to drive. Your mind races - where else could you move? Maybe the Arctic, right? That's far enough way, that way you c-

You're actually not even far away from him before his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against his broad chest. You squeak in surprise, hands resting on his thick thighs as he deepens the kiss.

Even through the clothes, he's hot, almost like a furnace. He's burning against you, and this kiss. It makes you dizzy, head spinning. There's a hunger in the kiss, a desperation that you don't think you've ever felt when you kissed other people. His hand holds a tight grip on you, squeezing your side, and you practically melt right into him.

It's a little awkward at first before you two manage to change your positions; neither one of you is keen on breaking the kiss. Eventually, you end up sitting on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, he sits on the kitchen floor. Shifting, you can feel the hardness of his cock beneath the fabric of the khakis.

Your hands reach for the hem of your shirt. They don't make it far, Stan's hands gripping your wrist. He's somehow even stronger than you expected, your stomach flipping at the pressure. He breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours, panting. You're expecting him to say something filthy, something that's going to make you squirm in his lap.

"Say your alphabet," is what he says instead.

What.

"What?" You ask.

"Say your alphabet," he repeats. "Not sleepin' with ya if you're not in the right state of mind."

"I walked, didn't I?"

"You fell."

Okay, fair enough.

So, you recite your alphabet. It's deliberate, and it's not too slow to cause any concern. As soon as you finish, he releases your wrists and grabs your shirt. It's the fastest your shirt has ever been removed, Stan's face immediately between your tits as soon as he's able. The stubble scratches as your skin, laughing slightly as he plants kisses against your chest. His hands reach around to your back, and you expect him to have trouble with it.

It's off before you can even blink.

"You're suspiciously good at that," you say.

"Aww, you jealous?" He laughs, sliding the bra off and tossing it somewhere behind him. "Don't worry, ain't nobody else gettin' the treatment you are."

"That's what you tell m-" you're cut off, Stan's tongue flicking against your nipple.

"Sayin' somethin', sweetheart?" He glances up, not giving you a chance to speak before he presses his mouth against your left nipple. You grab his shoulders, squirming against him as his tongue swirls around the hardened flesh. One arm wraps around your waist, grinding you against him while his free hand finds your other breast, kneading the flesh in his hand.

Your body feels like it's on fire under his touch. He plays with how much pressure he can put on you, rolling a nipple between his fingers while he sucks mercilessly on your other. Sweat beads on your brow, bucking against him while whimpering sounds escape you. "C'mon, sweetheart." He takes his mouth away from you, the cold air assaulting wet flesh. He playfully bucks his hips up, his cock grinding against you for just a moment. "Wanna hear what a good job I'm doin," he changes the arm that holds you against him, his other hand rising and brushing against the spit slickened skin.

Between the cold and his rough, calloused hand, you feel like you're already on the edge. "You aren't done already, are ya?"

"N-no," you mumble, tilting your head back and moaning as his mouth closes around the other nipple. Judging from the way his tongue flicks against your skin, he certainly appreciates the reaction. The way he sucks against your skin is greedy, teeth nipping at the skin. You're going to have bruises, you've accepted that. Your hands move from his shoulders to his hair, running through the gray, surprisingly soft, hair.

Using everything you can muster, you grind yourself against him. He groans against your skin, the grip on your skin tightening. He pulls away from you with an obscene sound, the words practically a growl in his throat. "Where's the bed?"

"Down the hall, last door on the right."

He gives pause for a moment, thinking. "Too far." He decides, aloud. Before you can process what he says, you're suddenly scooped up. You wrap your arms around him, tits bouncing as he hoists you around him. You leave the kitchen, and in a few feet, you're tossed unceremoniously on the couch. Your hands find the button of your jeans, getting them half way down your thighs before Stan takes over. They're off before you can even blink, Stan settling between your thighs. He picks one up, hooking your leg over his shoulder while he presses a thumb against your soaked panties.

You're already trembling, and your entire body jumps as he presses his thumb against your clit, rotating it in small painfully slow circles. He leans over you, grinning. "You want somethin'?"

"You know what I want," you breathe, fingers gripping the couch cushion.

"'Fraid I don't, sweetheart. You're gonna have to tell me." He lets up on the pressure, eliciting a whine from you. "I want your fingers," you reach out, gently touching his arm.

He's happy to comply. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" There's that smug fuckin' tone in his voice again. You expect him to pull off your underwear, but it doesn't seem like he's patient enough for that. Instead, he pulls them to the side, his middle and ring fingers sliding up and down against your wet cunt.

"W-wait!" You sit up some as he presses against you. "It's, uh..." you clear your throat. "It's been a while." You feel almost embarrassed to admit it, but with how thick his fingers are, and two of them? You don't wanna run the risk of getting hurt. He pauses, offering just the middle one to you in compromise. You make a face, and he laughs before he raises the finger to his mouth. He presses it against his tongue before dipping it back between your thighs. "Don't think that would've been an issue," you murmur as you feel him begin to slide into you.

You tilt your face against the couch arm, moaning as he buries the finger inside of you. "Bein' careful doesn't hurt," that's true, and you do honestly appreciate the sentiment. He moves his hand in a steady rhythm, the other hand keeping your legs spread apart. You bite your lip, and after a few minutes, he judges that you're ready for another and adds the ringer finger inside of you.

It's thick, and stretches you in the best possible way. "Feels good, don't it?" He leans over you, his face just a few inches away from yours. You don't know why it slips out - maybe you lapse back into what you were taught when you were younger. "Y-yes, sir." You pant the words out.

Stan's fingers stutter for just a moment before he thrusts them back into you, a moan immediately muffled by his lips against yours. He curls his fingers in the same way as before, the way that made your body shake like a leaf in his hand. "Like the way that sounds comin' outta you," he says the words against your neck, pressing kisses against your rapid pulse.

You can't handle it anymore. "Stanley," your voice teeters on the edge of breaking, fingers twisting in the Hawaiian shirt fabric. "F-fuck, Stanley, I-I.." the words die in your throat as he suddenly removes his fingers from your cunt. "W-what?" The words come out a whine, grabbing the shirt tighter and moving your hips to try and find his hand. "Stan," you groan.

"I can't have you all tired out before we get to the good stuff," he tells you. His hands move to the belt, making quick work of it. He slips off the khakis, positioning himself between your legs again before pressing the shaft of his cock against you, sliding against the slickness. You look between your legs, the head of his cock dipping in against your cunt before his hand tilts it up, bumping against your overly sensitive clit.

You're dizzy, just like before. Your head swims, biting your lip as he teases you constantly, angling himself and barely pushing himself in before pulling out. "You're lookin' desperate, sweetheart." He does a poor job of concealing his own desire, unable to take his eyes off your body. "Fuck, you're drippin'." He grins at you. "Still got it, huh?"

You suddenly brace your arms against his shoulders, pushing him back against the couch and straddling his lap. "You talk too much," the words come out in one rushed breath as you reach between your legs and grab the base of his cock, holding him steady as you bury him inside of you. A stifled moan escapes you as your body adjusts to his size. One hand grabs your waist, stilling any movement you might make, while the other grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "You alright?" You nod your head, your lips slightly pursed from how he squeezes your face.

"Good," he breathes, releasing your face. His hand drops to your chest, holding your breast. As soon as you roll your hips forward, Stan can't keep his mouth shut. "Shit, fuck," his eyes are half-lidded, head resting against the back of the couch as you ride him. "You're tight as a fuckin drum, and hotter than hell." You smile, bracing your hands against the couch as you snap your hips forward, rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Both of his hands are on your tits, thumb brushing over the nipples. "Perfect," he mumbles out. Sweat beads across your body, Stan's hand eventually traveling downwards and finding your clit again. The moan rips from your throat as the calloused finger pads press against you, an almost aggressive rub against you - but it's exactly what your body wants. "There ya are," he practically purrs the words out as you lean down.

Your lips catch his, sloppy kisses without much care, as long as you can kiss him. Your burning in every sense of the word, body and nerves as Stan grabs your ass, timing your movements with his own thrusts. He somehow manages to go even deeper inside of you, each thrust sending another wave of pleasure through you. "Stanley!" His name is barely above a whisper as he suddenly pushes you back against the cushions, back on top of you.

He takes a leg, hiking it over his shoulder and leaning over you, your body curling slightly. His pace is merciless, whatever words you had before devolving into incoherent moans of pleasure as they spill from your lips. It's when the orgasm wrecks your body that you swear to God, you see literal stars in your vision as you cum. Your body tenses, nails digging into his forearms so hard that you're a little worried you may draw blood. Stanley, somehow, has enough sense to pull himself from you, his cock sliding against you before he cums.

Thick, milky ropes land on your stomach and tits as he slows his thrusts, breathing heavily before slumping down over you. You're catching your own breath, a hand raising to his back and gently running up and down the now sweat soaked shirt.

"You good?" He asks, his voice somehow hoarser than before.

You can't really respond, offering a thumbs up in response.

"Huh, fucked you so good you lost the ability to talk huh?" Weakly, and playfully, you slap him.

"Asshole." He snorts, removing himself from you and sitting back against the couch. He looks at you. Then the mess on you. "Where's your shower?"

"Bathroom, which is in the bedroom." You yawn. Stan picks the boxes out of his khakis, sliding them on before bending beside you. "Put yer arms around me," you stare at him a moment. "C'mon, before I change my mind." You do as he says, looping your arms around his neck as his hands slide under your sweaty body, hoisting you up.

"Not too much for you, is it, old man?" You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I can still drop you, ya know?"

"Mhmm." You mumblr. He feigns the drop, your grip tightening on him.

"Gotcha." He winks at you, but at this point, you're too tired to really fight back. Stan manages to open the door to your room and find the bathroom, setting you on the closed toilet. He reaches into the shower, turning the knobs and keeping his hand in for a moment. "You want it on the hotter or colder side?"

"Uh, hotter." The question catches you off guard.

"Figures, every woman wants it hot as hell." He adjusts the knob behind the curtain, taking it back and shaking off the water. "What?" He asks, raising a brow as you make a face at him.

"Just, uh..." again, you're trying to avoid sounding like an asshole. "Didn't expect aftercare?

"I may be a lot of things, and one of those things may be an asshole, but I'm not that big of an asshole." He sets his hands on his hips and you can't help but snort a giggle. "Up." he tells you, offering an arm. You stand on wobbly legs, leaning against him.

"Not sure how this is gonna work." You admit. "Kinda feel like a newborn deer."

"I'm gonna help you," he says. "Also, get a new metaphor."

"That's a simile."

"Oh, look at me, I paid attention in English." He mocks in a joking tone. "Just.. stand here." You do as your told, watching as he unbuttons his top and shakes it off, revealing the sweat covered girdle that's still wrapped around his waist. "You kept that on the whole time?" That's...kind of impressive.

"Done a lot more uncomfortable things, sweetheart." He says. He drops the girdle on your bathroom floor, gesturing for you to get in the shower. You do, Stan offering his arm for support as he follows you in shortly after. He keeps an arm around you, just below your breasts, in case you slip.

It does make you feel safe. You take the washcloth, soaping it up and slowly begin to scrub your body. The hot water feels amazing on your tired body, breathing in the smell of your soap and shampoo. When you're happily scrubbed, you turn in Stan's arms. "Your turn." You say.

"What?"

"You need to get clean too," you tell him. You don't let him protest, reaching over to your shampoo and squirting a pump into your palm and scrubbing it onto his scalp. There may have been a moment of protest, but it falls off quickly. His eyes shut, letting you work as you comb through his thinning hair. You take a few steps back, turning as carefully as you can so that he's under the stream of water. You work diligently, ensuring all the soap is off before you apply the conditioner and repeat it. He's strangely quiet the entire time, and yet you notice, he's relaxed. It's the first time you think you've ever seen his body this loose.

You grab the washcloth again, soaping it up again before pressing it against his chest. Now that there's no risk of soap in his eyes, Stan cracks one of his eyes open and looks down at you. "You're sweet, y'know?"

"Mhm." You hum in response.

"Seriously," he says. His thumb and forefinger catch your chin, tilting you up to meet his gaze. He leans down, the kiss tender, soft.

There's no intent behind it than affection. Somehow, it makes you feel hotter than what happened in the kitchen. You know you have the dopiest smile on your face, but at the moment, you don't care. You drag the rag over his body, his stomach, everywhere you can as he holds you close to him. When he's finally rinsed, he turns off the shower and carefully helps you step out. A few towels later, you're dry, warm, and exhausted.

You have a few oversized t-shirts that you used to clean the house in, and you manage to find one that fits Stan. There's no way he's making it home tonight. In your own pajamas, you climb into bed as Stan sits on the side of it. "Oh this thing is way comfier than your couch, no offense." He tests the springs, looking at you. "Maybe next time we'll make it to the bed."

"I'll hold you to that," you laugh. "Not tonight, though."

"What a shame," he winks. "You, uh, actually fine with me sleeping in here?" You're getting comfortable beneath the sheets, resting your head on the pillow.

"Stan," you start. "You were literally inside me. You can sleep next to me."

"You'd be surprised how often those two things don't go hand in hand," he remarks off-handedly. Your face creases in worry, about to sit up before he reaches out and pushes you back down. "Story for another day." He pulls the sheets back, sliding in beside you and staring up at the ceiling. A shiver runs through you, scooting closer to him and hooking a leg over his. He raises an arm, putting it behind you so that you're able to rest your head against his chest. "Don't get used to this," you know he doesn't mean a word of that.

"Goodnight, Stan." You stretch, placing a kiss on his cheek. You settle back down, shutting your eyes.

Gently, you feel the ghost of a kiss on the top of your head. "Goodnight."

You fall asleep to his heartbeat, something you think you'd enjoy getting used to

#gravity falls #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader #dw i'm still inactive but i wanted to post

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violettwrites · 2 days

Text

in the arms of the broken — daryl dixon

a/n: to the dear nonnie that requested this 🫶🏻 thank u sm i absolutely adored writing this (i rly should be sleeping but i can’t so here i am) i hope you enjoy !!

if you enjoyed reading this, please support me by giving me a like, reblog, and/or comment ! don’t forget to follow me either if you want to read more of my stuff !

request: anon said — “i also like the dialogue prompt ‘i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this’ that tugs at the heart strings”

summary: reader cannot cope with the way the world has become, during a particularly hard night for themselves, daryl dixon is the one to comfort them.

warnings: angst/sadness ,,, thats it rly

word count: 1,241

recourses: divider by @adornedwithlight

➵ tp!daryl masterlist

➵ regular masterlist

here is my ask box !

the night was quiet except for the crackle of the fire, but it felt wrong—like the world had gone still, holding its breath. you sat by the flames, knees drawn to your chest, staring blankly into the flickering light. the heat touched your skin, but it didn’t reach you, didn’t chase away the cold that had settled deep inside.

daryl watched you from a distance, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. he’d been keeping an eye on you for days, noticing the way you’d been pulling away from everyone, isolating yourself. you’d always been strong, always held it together for the sake of the group, but something was different now. something had changed, and it scared him. you were like a shadow of yourself, your spirit drained, your eyes distant.

rick approached him, eyes flicking over to you before meeting daryl’s. “how’s she holdin’ up?”

daryl didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he watched the way you sat so still, your body hunched like the weight of everything had finally become too much to carry. he shook his head, his voice quiet and rough. “i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this.”

rick nodded, his expression grim. “she’s been through a lot. more than most of us. maybe she just needs some time.”

rick can recall the first time they found you, smack bang in the middle of atlanta, all alone. you were covered in blood and guts, and if he hadn’t actually heard how you begged for help when he saw you, your voice barely audible, he honestly would have thought you were just another walker.

“time ain’t gonna fix what’s broken,” daryl muttered under his breath, the frustration simmering beneath his skin. time wasn’t enough when you were drowning, when you couldn’t see a way out of the darkness. and he hated that he didn’t know how to pull you out.

rick gave him a look, one that said everything he didn’t need to say out loud. “you’re the one she’ll listen to, daryl. talk to her.”

daryl stood there a moment longer, watching the way you curled into yourself, like you were trying to disappear. every instinct in him told him to go to you, but he hesitated, unsure if his words would even matter. still, he couldn’t just leave you like this.

he finally pushed off the tree and walked over, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. he lowered himself to the ground beside you, sitting close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that he’d crowd you.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the fire crackled between you, the only sound breaking the silence of the night. daryl wasn’t sure how to start, wasn’t good with words even on the best of days. but he knew you, and he knew the way you got when things started to spiral out of control in your head.

“you don’t gotta shut us out, y’know,” he finally said, his voice gruff but soft. “we’re all here for ya.”

you didn’t respond at first, your eyes still fixed on the flames like they held some kind of answer you were searching for. after a long moment, you sighed, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m tired, daryl.”

those words hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d seen people break before, seen the way this world could wear someone down until there was nothing left. but hearing you say it, seeing you like this—it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

“i know,” he said quietly. “we all are. but we’re still fightin’. you’re still fightin’.”

you shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “i don’t know if i can anymore. every day feels like it’s getting harder. like… like i’m losing pieces of myself.”

daryl’s chest tightened. he’d always admired your strength, the way you kept going no matter how hard things got. but now, hearing you say you were falling apart—it made him realize just how much he hadn’t noticed.

“you ain’t losin’ yourself,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you’re still here. we’re still here.”

you swallowed hard, tears brimming in your eyes. “i feel like i’m drowning. like no matter what i do, it’s never enough. i can’t save everyone, daryl.”

that was it, wasn’t it? the burden you carried, the weight of trying to protect everyone, to hold the group together when everything was falling apart. it was breaking you.

daryl shifted closer, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm, hesitant at first, but firm once it was there. “you don’t gotta save everyone. that ain’t on you.”

your voice cracked as you spoke, the tears spilling over now. “but if i don’t… who will?”

daryl’s heart clenched at the raw pain in your voice. he wished he had the right words, wished he could take that weight off your shoulders. but he knew he couldn’t fix everything. what he could do, though, was remind you that you weren’t alone.

“you don’t have to,” he said, his thumb gently brushing your arm in a way that was more comforting than he realized. “we’re all in this together. you ain’t gotta carry the world by yourself.”

you turned to look at him, and the vulnerability in your eyes nearly broke him. he wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so lost and fragile. he hated it. he hated that you felt like you had to carry the world alone, that you felt like you were drowning.

“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “everything feels so heavy.”

daryl swallowed hard, his own heart aching at how much pain you were in. he didn’t know how to take that pain away, but he could be there for you. he could be the one thing you could hold on to when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

“you ain’t alone,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you got me. no matter what, you got me.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe just a little easier. his words were simple, but they grounded you. daryl had always been your anchor, and in this moment, you needed him more than ever.

without thinking, you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder as the tears came harder, your body shaking with the force of them. daryl didn’t hesitate. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back.

“let it out,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s okay. i got ya.”

and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself fall apart. you let the tears come, let the pain you’d been holding in for so long spill out. daryl didn’t say anything more, didn’t need to. he just held you, his presence steady and unwavering, letting you know without words that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

the fire crackled softly beside you, but the world felt a little less cold with daryl holding you. you weren’t okay. you weren’t sure when—or if—you’d ever be okay again. but for now, in his arms, you felt like you didn’t have to be.

and maybe that was enough.

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mcflymemes · 5 hours

Text

"I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT YOU" PROMPTS * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

you expect me to just carry on without you?

you're the only one i'll ever want.

they don't know me like you do.

i knew i needed to see you again.

everything makes sense when you're near me.

it's you, or it's no one.

i'll do everything i can to give you the perfect life.

please give me a chance to prove i'm the one.

life's just not worth living if you're not in it.

what you and i have... it's special. it's more than special.

can't you see we're meant to be together?

you're my soulmate.

there has to be something i can say to convince you to stay with me.

but i don't want you to leave.

you changed my whole world the day i met you.

the last thing i want is a life without you.

i can't go another day without you.

please stay beside me.

i made a mistake when i left you. i realize that now.

you're the reason i fought as hard as i did.

no one compares to you.

you can't leave me.

i tried living without you. worst time of my life.

i don't ever want to know what life is like without you.

you're all i have.

they don't touch me like you do.

you're the only one for me, i've decided.

what will it take for you to stay here? with me?

nothing makes sense when you're not here.

you mean everything to me.

all right, i'll come right out and say it. i need you.

if you want me to get down on my hands and knees and beg, i will.

it's you that i want.

when i first saw you, i went "oh. that's the person i'm going to marry."

i don't feel safe when you're gone.

i think i was made with you in mind.

it's only you. it's only ever going to be you.

i wish you would stop trying to push me away.

ever since the day you walked into my life, i've been forever changed.

you have no idea your effect on me.

i want you in my life.

i'm going to fight to keep you in my life.

they can't take you away from me.

nothing can tear us apart.

tell me you want me the way i want you.

right now, i just want you close to me.

i never would have survived that had it not been for you.

i'll never love anyone the way i love you.

i don't see other people. i only see you.

you're the one that i want.

what's the point of life if you're not here with me?

don't go where i can't follow.

the longer we're apart, the more sure of it i am. you're it for me.

i think of you all the time, actually.

pretty sure i've been thinking about kissing you since the day we met.

you're my home.

do you believe in soulmates?

when we're apart, nothing makes sense.

that's why i want you here with me.

we're stronger together than we are apart.

#romance prompts #rp prompt #rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask memes #ask meme #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter #sentence starters #sentence starter prompt

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m3l0nfl0at · 10 hours

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the greatest - s. gojo

gojo satoru x gn!reader ; gege give me that mf pen, ANGST ANGST, spoilers for the manga, mention of death, no y/n used, and reader is a little bit rude to shoko at first, 2.6k words

summary ; i wanted to write a more fulfilling ending for gojo because i feel he deserved it and gege i will never forgive you

melon’s recommended melody ; my love mine all mine - mitski

Waking up, hearing the chirps of life outside your window telling you it was a new day. Brushing the spot in bed next to you, only for it to feel empty and cold. Feeling the spot next to you became a habit that was hard to break. Getting up to brush your teeth, seeing the other toothbrush occupying the slot beside yours. Washing your face and feeling the chilly water hit your face. Heading to your living room, ironically it didn’t feel like it was lived in much. Opening the fridge not expecting much because you haven’t been to the groceries in, who knows how long? Sighing, not feeling hungry but knowing it wasn’t smart to leave yourself unsatiated. You go to the pantry seeing all kinds of sweets left untouched, you reach out to touch them but not grabbing one.

Feeling yourself tear up, you never had a sweet tooth and now thinking of something sweet made you sick to your stomach. How can you want something sweet when everything around you feels bitter? You felt nothing, saw no potential, you can’t even recall the last time you left the house. No drop of color, the world that was once made up of red and blue became black and white. You close the pantry wanting nothing more than retreat back to your bed for the rest of the day. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, pouring yourself some water. Drinking it, feeling the burn from the coldness hitting your dry scratchy throat.

Placing it down in the sink filled with glassware, not worrying too much about the piling dishes. Heading to the door, cracking it open just a bit to feel the sun heat up your freezing house. Stepping out to sit down on the porch stairs, hugging your knees. Looking around at your yard, glaring at reminders of what used to be. Your vegetable garden withered, planting those to joke around with Satoru. Reprimanding him, saying just because he was the strongest doesn’t mean he could eat nothing but sweets. You look at your flowers, specifically forget me nots, lining the house now lifeless and devoid of any color.

You march to the flowers angrily picking them up and stomping on the remaining garden. How dare they die, didn’t they know you were going through enough already? It’s not your fault that you couldn’t stop them from growing, it’s not your fault you had to wake up everyday to make sure they lived. It was selfish, it’s not like you wake up and someone makes sure that you’re alive. In fact no one reached out to you anymore, not Shoko, not Iljichi, and certainly not Utahime. You didn’t expect them to but for them to not even acknowledge Satoru’s body or death? To not even let you have a funeral for him.

You wonder if anyone even cared for him beyond his title, you knew Geto did. No one else cared for Gojo the way you and Suguru did. You don’t blame them for not checking up on you, Shoko hated confrontation, Iljichi was always scared of Gojo, and Utahime hated Gojo with her whole being. Part of you wanted to think he was finally at peace with his best friend. Knowing they were together brought you some sort of peace in this meaningless world. Another part of you wanted to scream, were you not enough for him to stay here. Were you not enough for him to win the fight and come back home to you.

Going back inside looking back at the mess you created in your front yard. The mess representing the muck that was going on in your head, ever since that day. That stupid day he went to battle the “King of Curses”, only for him to lose. Satoru was not the humblest person, you always told him that would be his downfall. Of course you thought Gojo was the strongest but your Satoru was still a vulnerable human. Slamming the door, attempting to run to your room. Only to trip on shoes at the front door, looking behind you to see Satoru’s loafers. The ones he would wear to teach, he loved teaching so much.

He wanted to be everything he hadn’t received as a student. Knowing that his teachers never really considered him to be a kid more like a mere prize. A prize saying I taught the strongest sorcerer and nothing more. His students and him were close but at the end of the day he was just their teacher, nothing more. Yuji and Yuta tried reaching out to you, coming to your house to knock only to be met with nothing. Yuji and Yuta admired Gojo, they knew what it meant to be the strongest. How being the strongest came with all kinds of burdens to bear or how being the strongest meant having people admire and hate you.

You feel your breathing getting heavy, you were never the strongest. You were known to always break down, being the crybaby of your family but you couldn’t help it. Yet, you haven’t cried since Satoru’s death was officially announced. You suddenly had no ounce of tears left in you, opting to just shut everyone out instead. Crying was stupid anyway, why would you cry? Crying wouldn’t bring him back, crying and screaming at the top of your lungs wouldn’t stop him.

Part of you wondered if he knew he was going to die, if he knew that he was going to lose against Mahoraga. Or better yet lose to Megumi, you knew Satoru didn’t have it in him to kill one of his students. If he couldn’t separate the two souls then that only left one option. However, the past can’t be dwelled on too much because it can never change, you slam your fists on the ground in agony. Feeling your ankle hurting but also feeling everything you had in you hurting too. Wanting nothing more than someone to pick you up off the ground, that someone being Satoru. Damn you Satoru, even in death he had an eerie way of sneaking back into your life.

It’s not like you wanted to forget about him, he was your entire life. You stayed awake some nights reminiscing on the future you both had planned, looking forward to getting married.

“You think when were married you’ll still have that dingy blindfold on?”, you laugh, messing with his hair. Satoru places a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically. “One, it’s not dingy. Second, obviously not. I’d probably choose something more stylish like sunglasses or maybe a tinted monocle.”, you groan in disgust. “You will absolutely not wear a monocle at our wedding. You’ll look like the monopoly man.”

You lay on the ground, soaking in the feeling of the pain from your ankle. Hearing a knock at your door, choosing to stay quiet not wanting anyone to see you in this state. “I know you’re in there you know, your garden wasn’t this ugly when I stopped by yesterday.”, you wince trying to pick yourself up. Funny how she chooses right now to finally show up, “Leave Shoko. I don’t need anything.”. She sighs knowing grief probably made you bitter, “Then why are you wincing? Open the door so I can fix whatever mess you got yourself in.”

“It’s open, let yourself in Leir.”, you lay against a wall preparing to let someone see you at your worst. “What happened?”, her clothes and breath smells like cigarettes, you wondered what got her back into the habit. “What didn’t happen, is what you should be asking.”, you roll your eyes. Shoko looks at your ankle, checking if it’s anything serious, chalking it up to only being a sprain. “I came because I have something to give you.”, you look over to her shaking your head. You didn’t think you could handle anything more than what you have on your mind right now. She hesitates, not wanting to upset you but also wanting to get everything off her mind. “I cleaned up his body. If you want to do a proper burial for him. Or if you just want to see him one last time, give you some closure you need.”, she hears your breath falter.

Knowing she’s pushing her limits, “Why would I host a burial when no one cared for him like I did.”, you angrily glare at her. You feel your breath quicken, it starts picking up as your thoughts become more rampant. She stays silent, feeling that if you have to spew your anger at anyone, she’ll let it be her. You look at your now swollen ankle, your messy house that no longer felt like a home, and messy kitchen. Wondering when this all happened, why did you let it get this bad?

Shoko hands you a letter, “I know you’re frustrated and even bitter with what Gojo’s decision was but he never stopped thinking about you even in his last moments. I know I've been an absentee friend but I cleaned him up because that was the only thing I could do. Send him to the afterlife being the Gojo you and I both knew.”, you feel all the pressure and pain that festered in you slowly crack. Knowing that even though you were painting everyone as the villain, the only true villain was fate and time.

Your lip quivers, apologizing to everyone in your head knowing they’re all suffering in their own way. You lift up the note, opening it up to see a messily drawn Satoru in the corner. Everything that’s been withheld these past couple of months finally breaks, looking to the top seeing the words “my love” printed. Taking a deep breath before proceeding. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. There’s nothing you could’ve done to stop me from trying to defeat that cocky old bastard.”, you roll your eyes knowing how he hated Sukuna but still decided to fight him. “I sent my best students and Shoko to come check on you, can’t have you losing yourself over me, right?”, you choke on your own tears.

You stop reading halfway, scared to continue. Scared that if you continue, you’ll lose the last thing that has Satoru’s last traces on it. Shoko sits by you letting you rest your head on her shoulder. “He wanted you to read it. He gave one to Megumi and Nobara too, keep going for him.” Nodding, pacing your breaths scared you’ll start hyperventilating, “I know it’ll be lonely without my overbearing personality but I’m not gone. I’ll be watching over you or looking up at you, whichever you prefer.”, you laugh through the tears as you feel your bittersweet smile slowly appears on your face. “I know I left before I could fulfill my promise about our future but the ring I wanted to use is in my drawer hidden under my blindfolds. I knew you wouldn’t look there since they’re so dingy, right?”, your tears fall as you get up slowly.

Shoko gets up, reaching out to help you, as you start limping towards your room. Opening the dresser, scavenging for a box, looking in the corner to see a velvet box. Sobbing violently as you open it, seeing G.S. engraved into the inside of the band. Slipping it on before reading the rest of the note. “Living will feel harder with me gone because I know I would feel empty if I had to live without you. I want you to live, live and never forget me. You’ll surpass me in time and age but I'll be waiting for you no matter what, It’s not your time yet. When we meet again I will just be Satoru, not the strongest but only your Satoru. Make me proud, my love, till we meet again. P.S. Nows a good time to tell you, I finished all your chips, whoopsies!”. “I knew it.”, you laugh while crying. Shoko watches you feel the writing on the paper as if it was him.

Gently caressing the last thing he touched, the last words he engraved just for you to feel at ease. You lay against the bed, feeling everything within you give out, he’s actually gone. Shoko pats your back, letting you know she’s here. Even though she knows you only want Gojo right now, no one else even existed within this moment. People thought Satoru was selfish only caring about himself, when in reality he spent even his last moments scraping up letters to put others at ease with his decision, that was your Satoru.

“Will you show me him, one last time, please.” You look over at Shoko pleading. She nods, “I have to take you there to heal your ankle anyways”. You get up to get in her car to make it back to Jujutsu High. Fiddling with your ring the whole way there. Asking to see him on impulse, not even thinking about your appearance. Not really caring anyways, who do you have to impress? Shoko helps you out of the car, being cautious of your ankle.

She first treats your ankle, you slowly catch your breath. Anticipating seeing Satoru for the last time. Shoko guides you, “I cleaned him to the best of my ability. The stitches are kind of gruesome but it was a last minute call to action.”, you trace his face. Seeing the scar from his forehead, disgusted that the last resort was using Satoru as a weapon. You see your tears fall onto him, wiping them away. Shoko excuses herself, letting you have your last moments with him. “Satoru, you’re not in pain anymore, right?”, naively waiting for his answer. “You look so handsome my love, even in your last moments.”, crouching down to grab his hand. “I’ll never forget you as long as I live, Satoru Gojo.”, you kiss his cheek, feeling his cold skin on your lips.

“I’m so mad at you. I wish you could come back to life for just five minutes so I could reprimand you one final time.”, silence hanging in the air as you take in his appearance. Combing your fingers through his hair, “Damn it Satoru, why couldn’t you be selfish just this one time.” Even though he was in front of you lifeless like your flowers, a part of him still felt so alive. His love for you never died, not even beyond death, that was all you needed to live on. You let go of his hand, walking towards the door. Leaving the room, looking back at him one last time, “I love you Satoru, that’ll never change.”.

Even though living without Satoru was difficult, you felt him all around you. Going outside to water your beautiful garden varying with blue and white flowers. Going shopping and getting something sweet to commemorate his unbeatable sweet tooth. Teaching at Jujutsu High, to continue his legacy. Visiting his gravestone to tell him about your day, buying a meal for you and him. The pain never went away but you found comfort in it. His belongings were still placed in your home, never having the heart to put them away. You leave a spot open in your bed for him, touching his pillows softly before sleeping. Putting his shoes away neatly and even polishing them. Getting his mug to place it right next to yours in the morning, feeling comforted by the traces of himself he left behind. He was gone but he’s still existed within you, within his students, and within his legacy. He was loved and he would never be forgotten.

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia : honestly i needed to write this because i have to write fluff and i felt very devastated in leaks today. gege i will never forgive you for taking such a beloved character and dragging his name

#gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #anime x reader #gojo x you #gojo jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst

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naranja-301 · 1 day

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Stan can feel his vision going blurry, he was crying, figures out a while ago but how can't he? He felt like it was to much, to much for him but at the same time felt so good.

There betwen his legs laying down in the bed was Fiddleford, his hands holding with a gentle hold both his thighs and his mouth trailing with soft Kisses his skin. His touch was so gentle and so hot at the same time, the lips of Fiddleford going all the way up from his knees to his inner thighs.

After a few minutes of kissing the touch turned into nibbling, the teeths of Fiddleford leaving light marks in Stan.

Oh, but that wasn't the thing that was making Stan go crazy, it was the things that Fiddleford said to him in any touch his lips Made, in any nibbling his teeth Made on the skin of his thighs.

"I love You so much, Stanley...You are so good...so inteligent"

Another soft bite meets the skin of Stan, that with those Words, the way Fiddleford said them Made him unable to hold back another cried moan from his throat

"I'm-...i'm not-"

"sshhh...My love...My everything...yes You are"

Fiddleford moves his lips more up, almost metting with that spot on the body of Stan that sure would made the man go more overwhealmed that he already was.

"please...Fidds...I...I can't-"

"yes You can, love...please...let me love You..."

Fiddleford moves slighty from betwen the legs of Stan, sitting betwen them and his hands make their way to the face of Stan that had some tears in it. He gives Stan a warm smile, his eyes showing only love for the man under him, sweaping his tears with his thumbs.

He leans foward, Stan has to hold tight the sheets of the bed to supress another moan that wanted to leave his lips but at this point his body didn't made the actions his brain was telling to. He felt scared, even a bit frustrated with himself. Weak, the first thing his brain was screaming at him when he leaves another moan when Fiddleford breaks the Kiss and returns to those soft, gentle touches Fiddleford around his body, and just like if Fiddleford could read his mind he stopped, it was so sudden that made Stan freeze in place.

Stan looks up at Fiddleford Who had a somekind sad expression in his face and Stan hates himself for feeling like being the reason of that expression. Before he can Say anything he feels how Fiddleford holds his hand with his, guiding it to his face, massaging the back of his hand with both of his hands. He could feel the warm of the skin of Fiddleford, his thumb in an unconsious action caresing his cheek.

"Stan..."

"...i'm sorry... i'm-...I-"

God, why did he felt like this? Why does his heart have to hurt so much when looking up at the eyes of the other? Those eyes that Saw in him something he doesn't even know what, but sure enought to make the other stay and don't leave him, don't push him away. He felt his visión going blurry again, no no no he can't, he can't show weakness, not now, not with Fiddleford.

He is about to Say sorry again when the sensation of those warm and soft lips meet his jawline, then the corner of his lips, his nose and finally, the corner on his left eye. His hand no longer on the cheek of Fiddleford but holded with his in a soft grip.

"Stanley...You don't have to Say sorry for anything..."

"..."

"It's ok...it's ok, Stanley..."

Stan keeps looking up in silence at Fiddleford for some minutes, just Staring at the other with a shaky breath. His eyes traveling for all the face of Fiddleford, his eyes, his large nose, those lips, the lips that Made him felt like crazy just Moments before.

And then, he can feel how his ear gets a bit wet, his vision going more blurry. Stan leaves a shaky breath while more and more tears falls from the sides of his face.

He can't help himself this time, his body craving for letting all out, feeling still scared but now more secure, secure that the other wouldn't call him weak, or even a dissater. He cries, he even can feel how Fiddleford hugs him tight with his arms, cooed to him as if he were a little kid.

"it's on Stan...I got You...I got You..."

Stan wraps his arms back around Fiddleford, it was tigh, like he was scared the other would run away from him. He cries now more lauder, hiding his face on the crock of the neck of Fiddleford.

They both keeps like that for around 30 minutes, Fiddleford not stopping wispering those sweet and warm Words to Stan, brushing his hand on his back.

Stan sniffes his nose, sweaping the tears out from his eyes. He doesn't dare to look up at Fiddleford, not yet, he just stays there and wispers lowly at him.

"...thank You...for everything..."

Fiddleford hugs more tight at Stan, leaving a soft Kiss in his ear.

"anytime..."

#fiddlestan #suggestive #BUENO BUENO BUENOOOO #oh god #I had this idea on my head and I had to write ot down so bad #guys gonna be honest woth ya #the gramarit here I feel it like shit only excuse is that english not my first lenguage amd I was not in the mood to go to goggle translator #still hooe this is like #able to read so...yeah that

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xxchaosjojoxx · 2 days

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Hello my friend, I have a prompt for you. 👀

I thought of Penguin and Reader dating secretly, only because they don't know if Law would approve of it and Penguin doesn't want to be teased by Shachi or anyone else right away, but someone figures it out, catches them, or they slip up on front of everyone and the whole crew finds out.

You can take it however you want! 💚

Secret Dating (Penguin x reader)

A/N: Uhh I like this idea and I hope I can make you happy with it :3

“Pen, stop for a second.” You said between quick kisses. Penguin pouted. “They are still eating lunch. So we have a few minutes just for us.” He said and captured your lips once again, while caressing your cheek. You got weak in the knees but he supported your body just fine with right hand at your back. Somehow you managed to get yourself a cute boyfriend. None other than your long-time crush and crewmate Penguin. You were a thing for over two months now and no one knows anything. Not even Ikkaku nor Shachi. You were afraid that Law wouldn’t approve it, letting you guys choose to stay a couple or being part of the heart pirates. Ikkaku and Hakugan knew of your Crush on Penguin and Shachi knew about Penguin’s crush on you. No one could understand why exactly you had feelings for him in the first place. “You sure? He has like… negative rizz.” Ikkaku’s words echoed through your mind. So as you two had night watch you were cuddling to keep yourself warm and somehow ended up staring at each other's eyes and soon enough your lips connected for the first time ever.

Suddenly you felt his hat on your head. “Come on sweetheart. Just a little affection please.” Penguin snuggled himself into the crook of your neck. Plantering it with soft kisses. You wanted to give in so badly but the sound of approaching footsteps became louder. “Later.” You said and gave him a quick peck while giving Penguin his hat back. Soon enough you were moving towards the footsteps and saw Law and Bepo. Law was standing before you, looking at you with a frown on his face. You felt a little nervous. “Is everything alright, Captain?” He looked at you and suddenly towards the corridor you just left. You could’ve sworn that you just saw a light smile on his face as he was turning towards you once more. “Just letting you know, that we will dock in a few minutes. You can enjoy the afternoon.” After a few steps, Law’s voice stopped your track. “I heard that there is a good ice cream spot. Might check it out with Penguin. You know he likes sweet things.” You tilted your head in confusion as you were about to find Ikkaku and Penguin. Bepo couldn’t help but look between you and Law. “I like ice cream as well, Captain.” Law smirked. “I know, Bepo. We can go for one as well.” “So we can go on an undercover date.” Penguin beamed as soon as you told him about the free afternoon and ice cream spot. You nodded with a bright smile. Penguin was looking in every direction, making sure no one caught you. As soon as he noticed that the coast was clear, he closed the distance and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards his arms and hugging you tight. “But we can stay here and have some quality time as well, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help but blush heavenly. “B-But what about the others?” You stuttered and heard his laughter. The sound of his laugh, made your heart jump once more. “I wanna spend time with you without having the fear of getting caught. Maybe we should tell the captain about us.” He pulled away and looked at you. “Are you sure?” The man standing in front of you nodded and you were thinking about it. “Maybe we should get something for him and tell him then.” “Sounds like a plan.”

With that you followed him and you were going through the streets hand in hand. You were laughing, went shopping and ate delicious food. As you saw a little bookstore you decided to enter it and leave Penguin waiting outside while eating his ice cream for a little bit. Soon after you hear the voice of Shachi and Ikkaku behind you. “Hey whatcha doing?” You turned around, grinning at your two crewmates. “Just looking for something interesting.” The three of you were talking for a little bit. Shachi was looking towards the exit and smirked. “We should stay inside for a little bit more.” Ikkaku and you tilted your head in confusion. Shachi was pointing outside. “Seems like, Penguin’s mysterious aura by hiding his face under his hat, is working. There is a cute girl outside, clinging onto his arm. My man got himself a girlfriend” You stared at him in disbelief. Anger rising inside you. “He already has one.”, you gritted your teeths and stormed outside.

A tall woman with beautiful long blonde hair was indeed clinging onto his arm, Penguin seemed nervous and tried to move away from her, freeing himself. “You know I would love to see your eyes darling.” He gulped. “Yeah,... that’s not happening. Can you let go of me please?” She pressed herself more into him, his arm was touching her chest. “Oh come one. How about I show you around? I would love to get to know you more.” Your rage was rising as you heard Shachi’s giggle. With fast steps you were stomping towards your boyfriend and this girl. With a swift movement, you took her arm and pulled her away. “Ouch what the hell is wrong with you?!” she screamed at you and looked at you. “The hell is wrong with me? You are flirting with my boyfriend!” Shachi and Ikkaku, were interested in this scenario and whispered to each other, loud enough for you to hear. “Do you have an idea what’s happening here right now?” “I dunno, maybe they are faking it?” While you had an argument with that woman, Law and Bepo joined Ikkaku and Shachi. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag huh?” He asked and Ikkaku and Shachi were looking at him. “Are they dating?” they asked in union and Law nodded. “I think it was quite obvious.” As soon as the woman left you clinged onto Penguins arm. “Ehm Y/n..” He said and you turned towards your friends and captain. They were looking at you with such disbelief in their eyes, except for Law. “I can explain it…” Law was taking a few steps towards you. “Why did you think you had to hide the fact that you are dating each other?” “Because we had to choose between our love and the crew.” You said nonchalant. Law couldn’t help but frown. “Sometimes I’m not sure if you are idiots or not.” With that he walked past you. “Oh before I forgot.” He said and turned around. “Just be quiet while you are alone and doing things. Oh, one more thing: Your daily duty and the crew should be your number one priority.” With a heavy blush you and Penguin choked on air. “Wait captain I …I mean we.. we wouldn’t…” “Wow now that I think about it, it was quite obvious.” Ikkaku said and Shachi nodded. “Double negative rizz, might be more effective than I thought.” The red hair said while laughing. Penguin was grabbing your hand while the other two were busy, laughing and chatting. “So it’s ok to hold hands now, right?” With a grin you tiptoed to give him a chaste kiss on his lips. “And this might be fine as well.” With a dumbfounded grin he was capturing your lips one last time. “I love you.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #penguin x reader #x reader #op penguin x reader #penguin one piece #female reader #fluff #penguin

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zablife · 2 days

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Maybe Johnny having a long day at work, he's tired and his girl gives him a blowjob

Hi lovely, I like the way your mind works! I took this idea and ran with it bc all I could picture was Johnny coming home after a trip to his cute little housewife and both of them finding comfort in one another. I hope you enjoy this short blurb about that!

Johnny Davis x wife reader

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Friday Night

Summary: You welcome Johnny home after a long week of missing each other.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, needy reader, blowjob, fem masturbation

The time Johnny was on the road was torturous for you, lonely nights spent on the sofa because you couldn't bear to sleep in an empty queen size bed alone. You'd drift off in front of the television set, only to be woken by the hissing static long after the station stopped broadcasting.

As your bleary eyes stared out toward the golden streetlights streaming in through the picture window, you often thought how different the night would be if Johnny were there to make you feel safe. For a start, you wouldn't have to check the lock on the front door twenty times.

You wouldn’t find yourself wracked by chills either. Once the cool autumn breeze turned to winter gales, you were often tucked beneath several knitted blankets, longing for the warmth and comfort of Johnny’s strong embrace.

When he was home, everything was right with the world. He'd stroll into the kitchen to find you standing at the range, delicious smells wafting from the pan before you'd even served dinner. His raspy voice greeting you as his muscular arms circled your waist, his hips would press into your backside to prove just how much he’d missed you.

After your man was fed, he always helped you with the dishes, though he sometimes got distracted by your sweet, little aprons. You sewed ruffled confections in pinks and yellows, dotted with rosebuds and cherries that barely covered your bosom. The bow at the back always beckoned to Johnny to untie it, freeing you to the touch of his calloused hands. However, he surpassed his desires to help with the dishes, his deep sigh at the last dish a sign of his excitement of things to come.

As you wiped your hands on a cloth, you turned to smirk at him. "Mr. Davis, I think you missed me."

"Damn right I did," he growled, reaching for your hips.

You bit your lower lip as you noticed the flames behind his blue eyes, burning white hot for you. "Is there something in particular you were missin'?" you asked innocently, batting your lashes at him as though you didn't know the effect you were having.

One glance at the tent in his trousers could have told you he was more than ready to have his beautiful wife on her knees before him, but you wanted to hear him say it. There was nothing you loved more than having your husband command you.

Johnny slipped a hand behind your back, unlacing your apron with one deft maneuver. The slip of fabric fell from your neck first, then your waist as Johnny chuckled. "Dinner was real good, baby," he complimented you, patting his stomach with satisfaction. Then leaning forward to place a kiss to your forehead, his voice lowered to a whisper as he added, "My sweet angel keeps my belly full and my balls empty, don't ya?"

You giggled, nodding in agreement. One hand venturing low against the front of his trousers, you squeezed his impressive length as you hummed, "Need me now, don’t ya?”

Johnny nodded slowly, chin grazing the top of your head lightly. “Take care of your old man like a good girl,” he urged, pulling you into the lounge where you could sink your knees into the plush carpet.

Fingers flying to his belt, you pulled the leather from his waist with one quick swoosh, a devilish smile playing on your lips. You undressed him in record time, holding his throbbing length in your hand like a prize.

You always marveled at Johnny's self control in the moment, waiting for you to place his throbbing red tip at your lips. He would never push your head down harshly like other men had done in the past. Your Johnny was a tender lover, always waiting for you to take the lead. It was something you loved most about him. And, if you were honest, it was the reason why you gave so much of yourself to him so freely.

It couldn't be helped, the way your tongue kitten licked the drops of precum. Johnny's hips jerked forward involuntarily and your opposite hand soothed him with a reassuring stroke to his thigh as you murmured, "M gonna take care of you, baby."

And you did, slowly at first, but gaining vigor as you dared to take him deeper into your throat. Even when you gagged, tears pricking along your lash line, you continued lapping along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, to prove your devotion.

"Feels so damn good," he hummed in appreciation, which only urged you to continue, fondling his balls for good measure. And when his grunts turned to staccato breaths, you knew he was close to his end. Head tipping back in ecstasy he managed to warn you with a guttural moan, "Swallow f'me, angel."

The salty ropes coated your tongue and you struggled momentarily to contain everything Johnny had to give, hands flying to his hips to anchor yourself. However, you remained in place until he stopped pulsing, your hands rubbing soothing circles against his legs as he came down from his high. It was in that moment that you felt most exultant, basking in the feeling of him towering over you like a god.

You were happy to worship him, cleaning his cock with gentle licks. It was then Johnny held your shoulder, fingers squeezing gently as he slurred, “S’enough, babydoll.” His stormy gray blue eyes opened to look down at you, hand raking through your hair to get a better view of your angelic face, flushed from effort.

As he began to pull his hips back, withdrawing from the hot clasp of your lips, you whined in protest. Fingernails stroking along his thigh in silent plea, you placed featherlight kisses to his shaft so he understood your need.

"Not yet," you whimpered, mouth hovering over him suggestively.

His movements stilled beneath your touch, a soft chuckle tumbling from his lips as he stroked your cheek with his thumb. He could never deny you when you gazed at him with that shining admiration, eyes bright as stars.

He suppressed a shiver as your breath ghosted over him, trying to relax despite his heightened sensitivity. A lazy smile spread across his face as he granted you permission. "Alright, keep me warm til I get hard again," he uttered in that low, gravel filled voice that made your insides turn to jelly. He motioned you toward the sofa and you followed without hesitation, collapsing on top of him with a wide grin plastered to your face.

Delicate fingers guiding him back to your eager mouth, you watched Johnny sink into the sofa cushions with a shaky sigh and the sound made your cunt throb. He was on the verge of overstimulation, hand clenching around a cushion as you laved his velvety skin with your tongue. However, he endured the exquisite torture for you, to listen to your purr of contentment.

This time your movements were painstakingly tender so as not to cause him any discomfort, mostly allowing the weight of him to press against your tongue pleasantly. Being caged between his thighs, the taste and scent of him enveloping your senses, gave you a feeling of security you never wanted to leave.

As your eyes fluttered closed, Johnny's hand threaded into your hair pressing your cheek to rest against his thigh. He gazed down at you lovingly when he felt the slow undulation of your jaw against his leg, heart nearly bursting at the sight of your swollen lips suckling him. When your breathing slowed, he rubbed your back asking, "Tired, angel?"

The question roused you instantly, no intention of sleeping anytime soon. You fumbled with the hem of your dress, raising it to your waist and pushing your underwear aside so Johnny had a good view. Then you began rubbing tight circles over your pulsing bundle, gathering your slick before slipping two fingers inside yourself.

Johnny's eyes went wide with feral desire, cock stirring with each small pulse of your hips into your hand. He urged you toward your peak with rumbled whispers of filthy praise. "Look at ya all filled up. My pretty baby."

You keened at his words, back arching and a little moan caught in your chest as you realized he was getting hard. As his girth swelled in your mouth, you savored the salty remnants of his first orgasm and the beginnings of another. If only he knew how good it felt to have your belly warmed this way, you thought before your mind went cloudy.

As Johnny felt you quiver beneath him, his hand snaked downward groping your breasts and a spark of fire ran down your spine. He delighted at the way your brow began to twitch and how your toes curled at his ankle before you gave into the wave of pleasure cresting within. Suddenly your mouth parted in a muffled cry of pleasure, warm saliva spilling over your chin and dripping onto his balls.

"Oh, fuck, darlin'," he exclaimed as more blood rushed to his cock, the spongy tip pressing against the inside of your cheek insistently. There was hardly any time to recover before he was lifting you up from between his legs to pepper you with kisses, more than ready for round two.

#zablife ask box #the bikeriders fanfiction #Johnny Davis fanfiction #Johnny Davis x reader #Johnny Davis x you #Johnny Davis #the bikeriders #Tom Hardy

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days

Text

Tim Through the Years - The Sibling Dinner

Series Masterlist

Summary: Tim meets your overprotective brothers. 0.7k+ words.

“Mashed potatoes... corn... chicken... croissants... gravy,” you mumbled while running around the kitchen of your home. You wiped your forehead and smeared flour on yourself as you checked on the chicken.

“Hey babe! I’m here!” Tim shouted from your front door, letting himself in with the key he had gotten from you so he could take care of your many houseplants when you were gone for a week. Tim walked into the kitchen with you running around trying to get everything done and wearing a very messy apron.

“Oh! Hi, honey, I didn’t see you come in,” you said while mashing the potatoes.

Tim gave you a soft smile and walked up to you. “Baby, why don’t you go get ready and I’ll finish up.” He took a wet cloth and started to wipe away any stray food that had landed on your face.

“But... tonight has to be perfect!” You said while mashing harder and sloshing milk everywhere. You felt eyes on you and made eye contact with Tim and he gave you the look.

“Sigh, okay. Thank you.” You kissed him softly on the cheek and quickly left to get ready. You peeked around the corner to watch him. “Pie needs to come out of the oven in 5 minutes and I make homemade gravy so the recipe card is in my cookbook...” You stopped when Tim crossed his arms and stared at you. You looked away, embarrassed, and ran off to your room.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smoothed down the outfit you decided to wear. Three sharp knocks hit the door before Tim announced, “They are here!”

You ran to the door and opened it to see your twin and older brother standing in the doorway.

“Hey munchkin,” your eldest brother said while giving you a big bear hug.

“You're squishing me!” you tried to say loudly but it came out muffled. Your older brother laughed, let you go, and pushed you to hug your twin. He made eye contact with Tim and stood in front of the both of you. “Who’s this?” he asked gruffly.

“Oh, this is Tim... my boyfriend. Tim, meet my older brother Dean and twin brother Sam,” you said nervously.

The staring didn’t stop. Dean stared and Tim stared right back at each other. Dinner was very awkward. No one wanted to say anything for fear of what could happen. You nervously bit your bottom lip and moved your fork around the plate, a little too nervous to eat.

“So Tim, what do you do?” Sam asked to try to break the tension.

“I’m a Sergeant for the LAPD,” Tim said, breaking his stare to look at Sam.

You heard Dean snicker next to you and you kicked him under the table. “Don’t do this,” you whisper-shouted at him.

Dean gave you a mean look and rubbed his knee. Dean turned his attention to Tim, who sat across from him at the table.

“So Tim, you're a police officer. What are you going to do when you die on duty and leave our sister here?” Dean asked with an evil look.

“I don’t plan on ever leaving her. Ever,” Tim stated firmly as he stared right back.

“You don’t know that. And I don’t like the idea of my little sister being here heartbroken because you wanted to be Mr. Hero.” Dean sneered.

“Oh, like you left her and Sam when you ran away from home because of your alcoholic father?” Tim sneered right back.

Dean’s face contorted into anger quickly. “I did that so I could provide a safe, healthy environment for my siblings."

“Um, let’s change topics shall we?” Sam interrupted. “Munchkin, could you pass the croissants?”

“Fine, tell me, Tim. Have you ever killed anyone? You might be a danger to my little sis,” Dean stated while stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork.

You don’t know what happened after that, but there was lots of shouting. Doors slamming and you, sitting in your seat with tears in your eyes. As Dean left your house in a rage, Sam stayed to support you.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” Tim hugged you and kissed your head softly, repeating it over and over. Dean’s support meant everything to you... you didn’t know what you’d do if Tim and Dean could never get along.

#tim through the years #tim bradford x reader #winchester!reader #fluentmoviequoter

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delusion-mostly · 1 day

Text

Regina George x Reader

Part 3/32

Warnings: kissing 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩, lotta fluff

Word count: approx. 1,500

"There is nothing to talk about?" You laugh out, hiding your irritation in a chuckle.

"No. There is," she grips your hand, "I judged you way too quickly when I wrote that about you. It was our freshman year right after you had asked Karen to the spring fling!"

"And Karen said no? I respectfully said 'okay, I hope you have a great time with whoever you go with'? I don't see the issue?" Your face grows more confused and curious.

"We were freshman. We didn't think that was okay. We hadn't learned that not all gay people had diseases and stuff." You give her a shocked look.

"Wow, okay, you are not making this any better. It took you until highschool to realize gay people weren't dirty?" You give her a sarcastic laugh.

"No! Not what I meant. Oh my god I'm so embarrassed." She covers her face with her hands and you quickly grab her wrists, moving them.

"No. Communicate, George. What do you mean." You look at her, practically piercing her soul to get her to spill.

"We were always told that gay was bad, we live in Illinois, Y/N. The midwest hates that stuff. To keep up looks, I always just went along with it. It's stupid," she continues her rant by standing up and pacing,

"I mean, why do we even have to label who we kiss! I kiss boys, you kiss girls, Karen kisses her cousin, and I don't even know if I would say I'm straight! Can't a girl kiss a girl every now and then without it being a little gay! Why do we have to label it all! Just fucking be you!" She stomps over to the couch and lays her face in a pillow, panting while trying to catch her breath.

"George..." you pat her back, and she sniffles before looking up at you, "you are okay. You are safe. Its okay not to label yourself. Just be a human who kisses other consenting adult humans. You, just like everyone else, do not owe anyone an explanation on who you choose to be with."

"I was such an asshole to you for no reason Y/N. I owe everyone an explanation for everything, I'm Regina fucking George. I'm a massive deal!" She sobs a little into the pillow, "I don't even know who I am. Am I nice? Am I a mythic bitch? Do I kiss boys? Do I kiss girls? I don't know!"

She still sits knelt on the ground with her face in the pillow on the couch, she quickly switches it to the knee on your uninjured leg. She wraps your leg in a tight hug, and you tug on her to sit on the couch. The mechanical whirring starts again and then stops, and your mom comes up the stairs.

She tosses you the meds, "These do cause drowsiness so Y/N may be out quickly!"

Regina gives you a concerned look, and you speak up, "I'm going to head to my room, Regina will help."

Regina helps you off the couch and offers herself as a crutch, letting you put your weight on her. She is surprisingly strong considering you are being a huge baby and dragging. You make it to your bedroom door and she opens it, setting you on the bed.

She sits in awe at your room. Tan walls covered by DIY record sleeve panels, deep green ivy strung across your ceiling and down the wall, a black tapestry of a mandala hung behind your bed. Bright red LED lights shine brightly and reflect off of your black bedding and fluffy grey blanket. Your bookshelf holds tons of books, some old, some really old, and some new. Your desk has papers upon papers stacked with drawings and ramblings. You grab the remote on your nightstand and turn the lights to a deep green.

"This is the coolest room I have ever been in." Regina smiles.

"Don't you quite literally live in a mansion?"

"Yeah but this room is all vibey and nature-y. This is so cool!" She looks at your record player.

She starts sifting through your record collection, nodding and giving approving hums at several and giving slight 'nuh-uh's at others. She finally comes over to your bed and lays by you.

"Oh my god even your bed is the best." She drops open her jaw and looks at you as you scoff and look at the ceiling.

You grab some sticky fidget toys and spend at least 30 minutes staring above you, catching and throwing them.

"How did you figure it out?"

"What?" You catch the ball that you had just thrown and look at her.

She shifts on to her side to look at you and you do your best to repeat the action.

"How did you figure out you like kissing girls? I won't say gay because, you know?" She smiles and references the conversation from earlier, "I fucking hate labels."

"Can I be so for real?" You say, she nods, "Orange is the New Black." You both laugh.

"I am so serious! One look at Ruby Rose or that chick that plays Alex? You know, the ginger from That 70s Show? One look and boom. Girl kisser." You tell her in a silly matter-of-fact voice.

"You didn't try any hands on? You didn't go out and kiss a girl?"

"Well, no. Like you said, Illinois isn't a big fan of queer people. It wasn't until sophomore year that I actually started dating around like you said in your book. Not a dig, by the way." You smile at her.

You look back up at the ceiling, and Regina places her hand in the spot between your jaw and neck, and forces you to look at her. She puts her forehead against yours as you set your hand on top of hers. You can feel how warm her breath is on your hands, and how warm your cheeks had gotten.

She shoots up, "uhm, I'm gonna choose a record!" You had just gotten Queen Bee all flustered.

She sifts back through the records and lands on one, she picks Folklore. She skips tracks until it starts playing 'this is me trying', and lays back down in the same way you were before.

She puts her hand back in its spot between your meck and jaw and shoots you an awkward smile. You lay your hand on top of hers, rubbing your thumb against her knuckles.

"Can I kiss you?"

You sit there shocked, mouth open, eyes closed, unable to respond.

"Nevermind I shouldn't have asked, that was so stupid, I'm so sorry Y/N that was really fucked up of me." She moves to get up.

You pull her back down and roll onto your back, pulling her with you.

"Wow you are strong," she reaches for your muscle as she speaks.

"Hockey, honey. Not the point," you lift her chin to look at you, "it wasn't fucked up of you. I was thinking it too, but only if you are sure."

She lays her head on your chest, you tangle your hand in her soft blonde locks.

"I just want to know... this is all so hard. I don't get it. My therapist said I need to explore myself outside of school and the plastics. I just don't want to fuck things up. I can't lose the one thing I have control over..." she starts to cry into your chest, the second time shes cried on you today.

"Sh, you're okay Regina. It's okay Regina. You're gonna be okay G." You keep repeating her name and it feels so good on your lips.

You quickly realize she was meaning the one thing she has control over is the school. You guess after last year everything really did fall apart for her.

"No matter what. If you kiss girls or not. It will be okay. You will still have control over aspects of your life. If you do like girls? Nobody will force you out. You have control over that."

She sits up and looks at you, pulling herself to sit straddling your hips. She runs her fingers through your hair and sets her hand under your jaw when she's done.

Regina slowly leans in, intertwining your fingers and pining your hand above your head. Your other hand trails down her side and makes its way to her hip. She finally, after what feels like a painful eternity, closes the gap. Every moment moves so slow, but she deepens the kiss. You can feel how warm her cheeks are.

Well that was an unexpected turn of events

#regina george #wattpad #fanfic #fanfiction #mean girls #mean girls x reader #regina george x reader #renee rapp #idk how to tag lol #no seriously

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