#i always feel the need to apologise when the tags go on too long

[brucie-baby]

been thinking about bruce being lost in time and going from era to era remembering nothing of his past lives other than eyes of a colour he can't quite describe. he doesn't know the man that they belong to. there's this weird sense of familiarity there, this niggling feeling that makes him drift towards him, but he never even finds out the man's name. and yet every life he lives, the man is there, never changing, never aging.

and then he gets home and finds alfred and looks him in the eyes and-- they're the same eyes. the same colour he's never seen on anybody else.

alfred looks at him like he knows. like he knows what bruce has been through, like he's known this moment would come, like he knows exactly what he's supposed to do and yet has no idea where to go from here.

and bruce can do nothing but hold him, but be held by him. by this man who has always been there for him. by this man who seemingly isn't much of a man after all.

[stellewriites]

johnny x fat!reader based off of this post i did a while back

cw: unprotected sex, minimal prep, kind of public sex, johnny’s a biter, fat fem reader. it’s just 2.5k of fucking like idk what to say

you winced as you read over the messages once more, feeling your stomach drop at the most recent one sent.

> who am i speaking to? i’d like to be able to make a complaint

you hesitated for a second, wondering if you’d get away with giving a coworker’s name, specifically claire, the coworker that always gave you shit on shift. but as much as the thought tickled you, you knew management would only figure out it was you when they realised claire wasn’t covering for you today.

you typed and sent back your name and apologised again, hoping he didn’t really want to send in a complaint for your slip up. you needed this job and it’d been hard enough to get it despite being over-qualified.

you knew you were a sort of diversity hire for the gym, every other worker there looked like they modelled for gymshark and liked to run a couple miles every morning before breakfast; whereas you cringed at the idea of the friction burn it’d inevitably cause between your thick thighs after the first five minutes.

the rest of the staff were nice enough, friendly; though a few of them couldn’t help but throw comments your way about your weight. it was something you’d had to develop a thick skin to after the first month working there, spending your lunch breaks or the drive home in tears, your self confidence the lowest it’d been since high school.

once you figured out how to let their shit roll off your back like water on a duck, it all became a hell of a lot easier again. though your confidence had taken a hit you were still recovering from. and your current dry spell in the bedroom hadn’t helped.

you worked behind the welcome desk, admin primarily but you covered the IT side of things too, what little there was of it.

the little local gym had started to gain a bit of traction online on social media and the owners had decided to exploit the opportunity and create workout clothes with the gym’s name and logo on it. regulars seemed to like it and people online had started buying when you’d posted that they���d get 20% off their next order if they posted online wearing and using the gym-wear.

it was all going great; you organised the orders and got them sent out on time, arranged any returns or customer service questions without a hitch.

or you did until today.

you’d just been taken aback when you saw the photo the customer - soap141 - had sent in. you’d typed without thinking and now? now you might lose your job because that customer looked to be about five seconds away from busting the seams on his workout vest.

and what a sight that would be.

shit, fuck. you needed to concentrate. it’s been far too long since you last hooked up with anyone and you were always too tired to deal with your pent up energy after work so it had… been a while. you were rightfully and understandably flustered at this photo.

you clicked back on the photo and bit your cheek as you zoomed in on his hands.

you closed the tab with a shake of your head, desperate to clear it, and started working on replying to the emails of the day.

you’d gotten through the majority of them when you were interrupted by a knock on the front desk gaining your attention.

it was just before lunch, and most newcomers either tended to start early morning or in the evening after work, and everyone else was able to go through with their membership qr code with no need to speak to you. this visit was unexpected and not in your usual routine.

you looked up at the unfairly handsome man before you and smiled.

“hi, can i help you?”

“i hope so, hen,” he said and his eyes dragged over your soft body appreciatively before landing on your name tag and growing sharp. “need to make a return, vest i got was too small. lass i spoke to online was, uhh, nae so helpful.”

you flushed.

the name badge pinned on your chest suddenly felt like it weighed a ton as you did you best not to let your eyes flicker down or you hand rise to cover it. he’d spotted it already, you could tell by his meanly satisfied look that was pinning you to your chair.

“i’m so so sorry, sir—.”

“johnny.”

“johnny. i can get that return sorted for you immediately,” you said, visibly flustered. he watched you for a moment, seeming to revel in your nervous energy until you sent a wide eyed, skittish look over your shoulder, hoping none of your co-workers were near by enough to overhear how much free merch you were about to offer for him to not make a complaint.

johnny however thought you were looking for a way out, a coworker to back you up.

“hey now, there’s no need t’make a scene, ey?” he interrupted, his head tilted to catch your eyes quicker when you turned back to face him. “i’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me.”

oh thank god, you were on the same page, he just wanted a fucking bribe. that you could do easily.

“of course, definitely. follow me,” you said and stood up. you waved him behind the desk and pointed to the storage room behind you. “i can process your refund before you leave, and you can have a look at the sizes of the other items we have in stock. maybe a free vest and t-shirt for all the trouble?”

he winced.

“that’s not exactly what i had in mind, bonnie.” he crept closer, his fingers dancing along the surface of the desk, playful in a way you couldn’t relate to at that moment. “was real unprofessional what you said, but i have something in mind that you can do for me that might get me to forget it ever happened. would take my mind off it, if you catch my drift.”

close enough to touch, he let his hand drift up to cheekily tug at the hem of your shirt, his fingers making light work of burrowing beneath to find your soft, warm skin.

“are you fucking with me?” you demanded after letting his words sit in the air for a moment, holding his wrist still. you’d been a bit forward on the chat, sure, but if he was going to be a prick about it you’d rather face the consequences with your managers instead.

his face grew serious for a moment, all teasing sharpness gone. “would never,” he said earnestly. you looked at him and saw the genuine arousal he held in the lick of his lips, the puffed up breadth of his chest; genuine unbridled want.

fuck it.

your own shoulders relaxed and you nodded.

“well, first thing we’re taught in retail is that the customer’s always right,” you said as you walked back towards the storage room, your eyes flickered to the gym behind you but no one was looking your way. you kept his hand at your waist so he followed closely. “maybe i could show you something more exclusive back here, you can try it on for size.”

“i think i already know it’s goin’ tae fit jus’ right,” johnny grinned and kicked the storage door closed behind him.

he hooked his fingers under your shirt, dragging it up until he could take in his fill of your thick waist, warm and malleable beneath his rough palms. he was none to gentle but determined in keeping you close. he dragged his nose down your cheek and breathed heavily for a moment as you clung to his biceps.

“what do you want?” you asked shakily. you’d experienced your fair share of one night stands but it’d been a while since someone had been so openly wanting with you, it left your hands a little jittery at how quick everything was moving.

“what are ya willing to give?” he shot back, letting a wet kiss land next to your ear.

“customer satisfaction is high on my list of priorities, i’ll have you know,” you hummed, trying to calm down and let yourself enjoy it.

johnny laughed, a little too loud for the small room, and pulled back enough to wiggle his eyebrows.

“ah bet it is,” he snickered. “but ye cannae deny that happy workers keep a place running, and i’m all about giving pretty workers their due benefits.”

he tugged at the waistband of your sports leggings, dropping to his knees so quickly you felt lightheaded at the sight.

“take tha’ off.” he nodded up to your rumpled shirt and you moved without hesitance despite the bright, unflattering light in the centre of the glorified cupboard. you shed your bra without waiting for instruction next, letting it drop to the floor where johnny had haphazardly piled your shoes and clothes. he was currently mesmerised by the hang of your belly, and the wobbling clench of your thighs as you shifted in front of him. he ran his hands and lips ever so lightly from your knee to your hip before baring his teeth.

“hey, no biting!” you were quick to say, your hands going to frame his face, fingers tilting up his jaw so you could both hold him back and make eye contact to show him you were serious. you had a feeling he was the type to push boundaries and ignore you if you weren’t careful.

“a’right hen, not this time,” he agreed and delicately kissed the stretch marks there instead and then turned to kiss one of your palms. once you’d let go, he stood and bent his head low to kiss and suck at your tits, his hands unable to stay still as he plucked at a nipple before it roamed further down to squeeze at your arse or rub at where the thin cotton of your knickers dug into your skin.

you tilted your head back and let him explore freely for a moment before a heavy hand was dragging you forward by the back of your neck and his lips found yours.

you keened into his mouth as he kissed you deeply; licked at his tongue and lips lazily in turn. you pulled back feeling throughly ravaged and yet barely touched.

“you’re staying clothed? that doesn’t seem fair.” you pouted as you looked down at the shirt you held in clenched fists.

“fuck fair,” he panted into your mouth, grinning. “but maybe if you ask nicely i’ll tek it off.”

“please?” you begged immediately, delighting in the surprise on his face. “please take it off, want to see you. please.”

he snorted, eyes blown wide and nodded.

“ok, pretty thing,” he said indulgently and made quick work of his shirt and trousers. you gawped at his bare, hairy chest and the swollen cock trapped in his boxers. “c’mere.”

he tugged you forward again and kissed down your chest, light presses of his lips to soften the scratching trail of his beard, before dropping to his knees. you leant back unsteadily against the small table you used to put orders together, crammed against the wall.

his eyes flickered up to yours and you recognised a flash of mischievousness a second before he lent in and bit at your plush hip. his hands squeezed at the fat of your thighs as you gasped out a sharp moan, he hissed as he let go when you pulled at his mohawk in shock and slight embarrassment.

“couldnae help it, hen,” he said with a dopey grin. he wrapped his hand around yours in his hair. “do that again though, yeah?”

you barely gave yourself a moment to recover or think too hard about his blatant disregard of your earlier wishes and instead tugged lightly, a little hesitant now that it wasn’t instinctual, at his hair. you were spurred on by the pleasured crease in his brow as he pulled down your knickers and his groan from both the hint of pain and the sight of you bare before him.

“think ye might just be made for me, such a perfect body and yer not so sweet as ye let on after all,” he mumbled. unceremoniously he sucked on two fingers before trailing them between your thighs, bullying your left leg up onto one burly arm so he could gain better access to your slick pussy. you tried to balance on one leg and less so on the table but the feeling of johnny’s tongue on your clit, lavving like a needy dog, had you slumping back.

he let out a heady groan at the taste of you and knew just what to do to keep you dripping like he had you on tap.

“remind me ta get yer number after this,” he panted, fingers stretching you quickly and clumsily.

his words were the final nail in the coffin that confirmed he wasn’t just fucking you for the shock value or to tell his friends there’s an easy fat girl that works at the gym. his attraction was genuine and he didn’t seem ashamed of that, was eager with it even.

showed it in the messy way he ate you out, licking between his fingers and lavishing in the wet, sticky noises he pulled from you; hidden only when either of you moaned too loud. you tried to hide it behind your hands but johnny seemed to pull back purposely to keep them loud when your nails scratched along his scalp.

it wasn’t enough to get off though, and he knew it, didn’t care actually as he had wasted no time once his third finger was fitting snug inside your cunt to pull them all back out, deeming you stretched and prepped enough.

he kissed you, too open mouthed and all tongue - far from the best kiss, but one you’d not soon forget - once he was stood up and turned you around so you could bend over the table.

“yeah?” he checked in quickly, freeing his cock and giving it a quick tug with his sticky fingers.

you nodded eagerly and reached back to hold one arse cheek to the side, letting him look at your holes from the back.

“fuck me,” he swore, whistling until you let go to swat at him with a laugh.

“my fucking co-workers,” you hissed, biting back a feral grin. the idea of them catching you now seemed less daunting than it had at the start, not when the promise of johnny’s cock was so close.

“if they haven’t heard us by now, bonnie…” he slapped your other cheek and bit his lip as it sent a ripple across your body. “beautiful.”

he tapped his cock at you pussy, hissing at the tease of the wet heat he was seconds away from.

“johnny,” you groaned out as he lingered.

you winced as he pushed in a moment later, just this side of too tight given the rushed prep but you whined through it until he bottomed out.

“perfect fit,” he hummed.

you felt every inch of him, only exacerbated when he leant forward to lean on your back, kissing at your neck.

“steamin’ jesus, i can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me,” he huffed. he ran a hand down your side before shifting, starting a steady pace he seemed to lose himself in as the pleasure your body brought him had him seeing stars.

you gasped at an especially hard thrust, your breath knocked out of you even as you felt yourself grow ever closer to your orgasm. you knew it’d be a doozy after going so long without, but as johnny’s spongy head knocked passed your g-spot like he was being paid to make you cum in under two minutes flat, you knew you weren’t going to be able to be quiet about it.

christ, it felt like he was nudging at your cervix, something you knew wasn’t true but the thought had you clenching and creaming around him either way.

“h-harder,” you whispered. “god, harder.”

johnny complied immediately, readjusting his grip on your hips to get better leverage to fuck into you harder and deeper.

“gonna cum already, hen, can feel you pulsing around me so good,” he warned.

“let me— i wanna, i want,” you struggled to get the words out but the thought of johnny leaving you high and dry after getting his own, when you were so close, had you panicking.

“i know, beautiful, don’t you worry. you’ll get yours,” he promised, hefting you both back a step from the table, just enough so he could slip his hand around and let his middle finger rest over your throbbing clit.

you tried to stifle your moan at the welcome and necessary attention and knew johnny was grinning like a mad man behind you.

“There you go, wanna hear you so bad, s’fucking hot,” he encouraged. “fuck yer coworkers.”

you rolled your hips along with his thrusts and steady pressure on your clit until you felt your vision white out and your cunt clench viciously. you felt johnny huff and slap his hips into your forgiving arse until he moaned, not at all muffled like yours had been.

he slumped over you, doing his best to balance on shaking arms so he didn’t crush you against the table.

“you tell your managers that this customer is definitely satisfied,” he said, eliciting an unattractive snort from you. you giggled as you lightly shrugged and batted him off until you were able to peel your sweaty skin from the table and stand back up straight, rubbing delicately at the imprint of the table that ran across your stomach.

he winced and ran a gentle palm across it alongside yours.

“wan’ me t’kiss it better?” he offered, the look in his eye only half as teasing as you were expecting.

without a care, he grabbed one of the shirts off the shelf and wiped you down, keeping his touches efficient and tender when they drifted between your legs.

he passed you your clothes, smiling at your shy thanks and busied himself with getting dressed as you struggled back into your own clothes.

it should’ve felt awkward walking out into the gym; you were almost certain your coworkers would be waiting outside ready to catch you, or worse some of the gym users. but johnny made it seem normal.

as you went to take your seat behind the desk he slapped your arse one last time, giving you a cheeky wink when you hissed at him.

“prick,” you huffed with a smile, rubbing at the smarting spot, but he only cooed and leant in to steal a chaste kiss before rounding back to stand in front of the desk.

he leant his hip against it as he looked down at you, suddenly shy when he held his phone out.

“only if ya want, hen. no pressure if this was just a one time thing.”

you glanced at his hopeful puppy-dog eyes and reached for the phone.

fuck it, maybe he could be your morning workout.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 1

Source for pic

Trouble 1

Word Count: 3819

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Special Warning 2: I advise reading the introductory chapters first, as they give a sense of the story, introduce characters and locations and, this chapter starts off immediately after the Sanji chapter. Your first interaction with Zoro is in those chapters! If you don't want to read the other characters, I recommend reading, at least, Zoro's Chapter since it's their first interaction!

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I'm posting this but with some dread weighing on my chest, I'm afraid... I hope (and I'm crossing all my fingers and begging Lady Luck to be on my side) that I'm able to post one chapter per week. But if I fail this goal, please forgive me in advance... I do have the whole story planned, I just (sadly) don't have much energy to write it. Alas, I am too curious to see what you guys think of my grumpy green-haired cop. I hope you enjoy, let me know all about it, will you?

Masterlist | |Chapter 2|

Party at Luffy's on Saturday. Just the usual suspects. Meet at six and bring snacks! 

You stare at the screen of your phone, your teeth chewing absentmindedly on your lower lip. A party does sound fun. ‘The usual suspects’ means your classmates and friends, some of whom you haven't seen in forever and actually miss. 

“Son of a three-legged chicken! Goddammit!” And then there's Shanks, hurting himself and cursing like an old man because he refuses to get surgery. 

Should you leave him alone?

“Dad? Are you in one piece?” You scream into the living room as you fill your coffee mug. 

“Yes, Bug. I'm fine! I just stubbed my toe on the couch, it wasn't my back this time.”

With a heavy sigh, you take a long gulp of your drink and close your eyes when you scald your tongue, your fist pounding the countertop to stop a string of your own curses from leaving your lips. 

“Bug?”

“I'm fine, Dad!” Opening the cabinet to take a cookie from the tin to soothe your ache, you realise it's empty and release another sigh. Your father always had a sweet tooth, but you could swear that the tin was full to the brim yesterday! 

Since you need to buy snacks for the party, you'll use the trip to fill up the cabinets and fridge. “I'm going to the store, Dad. What do you need?”

And as Shanks lists rows of unhealthy things you're not really going to buy for him, you reminisce about the old school days when you and your friends used to hang out after school. 

Nami, Robin, Luffy, Zoro, Kaya, and Usopp, the usual suspects, as Nami said. Those were the good old days. But now that you are all grown up, will hanging with them feel the same? Or will you feel left out? 

Shaking your head as you gather your keys and purse, you realise that you're overthinking things. You've already spent time with Robin and Nami, and everything still feels the same. Reconnecting with Kaya at the clinic also felt familiar and heartwarming. You still haven't met Luffy and Usopp since you got back, but you can't stop a silly smile from forming on your lips when you think about your encounter with Zoro. 

When you were both younger, there was a time when you had the biggest crush on him. It happened almost right before you left your hometown. You were starting to feel rebellious from all the fights your parents were having, and Zoro had the ultimate ‘bad boy’ look. 

But then you left. 

And you didn't even decide to peek behind that door. And now? Well… now you are just off men in general. So you're hoping your first encounter will be the prelude to rolling back into an easy friendship full of banter and good times. 

-*-

You haven't been to this particular grocery store since you were a teenager, and it has evolved! What was a simple, small store with essentials is now a full-blown supermarket, and you have no idea where anything is. 

As you stumble blindly through the maze-like corridors, you sigh in relief. There, at the top of the shelf, lies the only thing missing from your list, the only sweets you're willing to bring to your Dad, his favourite cream-filled chocolate cookies. 

Just out of reach. 

You look around, feeling a little lost. Maybe you should ask for help, or locate a stool or something you can use for height. But as soon as you start to walk towards the aisle, a gentle tap on the shoulder startles you, and you shriek. 

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you. You look lost. Need help?”

A shaky smile curves your lips as you try to calm your racing heart. It's just a store clerk. His smile is cute, and clearly, he finds you cute too because he's smirking suggestively. 

“I just need the cookies on the top shelf. I can't reach them.” You smile politely, trying to show that you're not interested in flirting, but actually need his help. 

He walks with you until the end of the aisle and points at the box of cookies. “Those?” You nod with a smile, already anticipating leaving the store that gave you a small migraine. He lifts his arm, stops, lowers it again, and smiles at you. “Are they for you?”

Your brow quirks up, and your smile falters as you balance your heavy basket on the other arm. “No.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head, crosses his arms, and you frown. “A boyfriend, perhaps?”

“They're for my father.” You say, slightly annoyed, and point at the cookies again. “Can you please help me?”

Raising his arms, he nods. “Sure thing.” And then he lowers his arms again, pulling a sigh from deep within you with the gesture. “Say… what did you say your name was?”

“I didn't.” You have half a mind to turn away and leave the store without the cookies, except they are the only indulgence you are allowing Shanks amidst an entire basket filled with healthy food. So you force another smile through gritted teeth. “Can you please help me with the cookies?”

The tips of his fingers brush the box, and you raise your hand, but he lowers his arm again, making you grunt in frustration. “You're drop-dead gorgeous. How about I give you the cookies and you give me your number?”

Seriously? 

It's not even clever flirting, it's just downright aggravating. 

“I think I'll–”

“Is this what you wanted, babe?” A gravelly voice interrupts your tirade as an arm raises above your head, retrieving the box of cookies and waving it in front of your face. 

You feel your cheeks heating up, but you force a smile to appear so you can play along. Zoro's wicked grin lets you know he came to your rescue. 

“Yes, baby, it is. Thank you so much.” 

The look on the clerk’s face is a mix of displeasure and disbelief, but he doesn't move from his spot, so Zoro laces his hand around your waist and pulls you closer, raising his brow at the employee's direction. 

He finally gets it and wishes you both a good day before leaving you alone. After he turns the corner, Zoro loses his grip on your waist, and you don't read too much into the way you miss his touch. 

“Hey there, Troublemaker, making trouble?” He teases and you laugh. 

“Always.” Taking the box of cookies from his hand, you nod. “Thanks for the help, that was getting awkward! The cookies are for my dad.”

Zoro smirks and crosses his arms, a six-pack dangling from his index finger. “Mr. S. still likes those cookies?” A snort leaves his lips. “Guess some things never change.”

You're about to agree with a shake of your shoulders when you bump into the shelf, making it rattle. A squeak leaves your lips when Zoro pulls you away from the shelf just as a tin of biscuits rolls off and crashes on the floor, right where you were. 

“Careful!” He admonishes you as you hiss and thank him. After a stern look, his face returns to an easygoing smirk, and he shakes his head. “Some things never change.”

“Hey! I resent that.” But he's right. You're a hazard. And that's why he's been calling you Troublemaker since you were both teens. “Are you shopping for Saturday too, officer?” You call him an officer, but he must be off duty since he's wearing jeans and a tee. 

He nods with a chuckle. “Nami said to bring booze. Usopp, Robin and Luffy won't drink.” He raises the beers. “These are for Nami and I'll bring real alcohol for myself. I'll be off duty.” Then his smile falters. “I'm not sure if you drink or not. We've been away from each other for so long.”

Your eyes leave his for a moment as guilt washes over you. It's your fault you fell apart from your friends. You left, you chose to stay away during the holidays, you were the one who abandoned them.

“Not too much.” You sound small as a resigned sigh shakes your shoulders. “Just socially…”

The silence that drags afterwards begins to stretch into awkwardness, until Zoro snorts. “Well, if you decide to be social around Luffy, you won't drink much, but if you stick with me, Trouble, you'll drink a lot!” 

His teasing makes you grin as you balance on the tips of your toes so you can be at eye level with him. “We'll see about that, officer.”

A low chuckle leaves his lips, and you giggle with him. Then he reaches out and takes your heavy basket from your hands. “You done shopping?” 

“Yes, but I can carry my own groceries.” You say as you start to follow him down the aisle. And then you trip over your feet and smack his back with your nose. Zoro stops, turns his head, and raises his eyebrow in a very ‘you were saying’ manner, and you flush beet red. “Fine! You can carry the groceries.”

But as he takes another step, you grab his arm, squeal internally at how well-defined his bicep muscle is, and turn him the other way. “It's this way, though. Smartypants.”

Zoro grumbles and purses his lips but follows you wordlessly. You're still rubbing your sore nose when you give him a teasing smirk and playfully stick out your tongue. “I might attract trouble, but you still can't tell left from right to save your life.”

“Hey!”

“How did you pass the ‘How to Be a Cop’ exam?”

“That's not a thing.”

“I'm sure your captain has to stick a GPS collar around your neck, or they never know where you are…”

You can practically feel him fuming beside you as you walk up to the cash register, and you feel your chest bubbling with laughter. 

“Keep it up, Trouble, and the next thing you'll bump into won't be as soft as me.” He snickers as he helps you unload your basket onto the register. 

“Aww!” You take out your phone and place it in front of his face. “Say you're soft again so I can record it. I'm sure Nami will love to tease you about it.”

His smirk turns into a grumpy pout in a mere second. “I didn't say I'm soft. I'm just trying to keep you alive so you don't end up as paperwork on my desk. I've got enough to do as is.” You laugh so hard that the cashier stares at you both. 

“Sure, big guy. You'd probably get lost on your way to find a pen just to fill it out.”

Zoro's about to retort when the cashier clears his throat, clearly done with his job and waiting for you to stop flirting and pay. You blush and settle the bill, then wait while Zoro pays for his booze. 

Once again, he carries the bags for you and, this time, you don't even protest, knowing how futile it will be. 

“Thanks, but you don't have to walk me to the car. I'm a big girl, you know?”

Zoro grabs your arm before you bump into the door, which takes a beat longer to open, and you clear your throat as he hums. “Yes, you are.”

You focus really hard and manage to avoid stepping on a puddle and bumping into a cart just to prove that you can handle it, but Zoro's snicker is still in place when you both reach your car. 

“So what's a girl gotta do to get some good coffee around here?” You tease as you load the groceries into the trunk of your car and close it. Then you kind of want to smack your face against it. You didn't mean to sound so forward, you just wanted to spend some more time with Zoro. It all felt so… natural. 

He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. “Well, there's a good spot just around the corner. You can't miss it.”

“Oh, is it the best?”

“Nah…” He sighs and curls his lip in contempt. “Swirly Brows has the best coffee. But it's on the other side of town.” Zoro leans against the car, and you open the door. Either he's not getting your hints, or he just doesn't want to have coffee with you. 

“You mean Sanji?” He grunts in agreement and you sense some story there. “I've met him. He's really nice! And the coffee is to die for.” You smile and Zoro stiffens a bit. 

“Yeah, he's nice to all girls.” He leaves it at that, and you don't pry. The conversation stalls, and you linger, but he still doesn't say anything. 

Oh, well. Maybe you were the only one having fun, and he just felt like he was babysitting an accident-prone big baby. 

“I guess I'll–”

“Want to get coffee, then?” He interrupts while placing his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh.” You smile. “Thought you'd never ask.”

You close the door, lock the car, then pace a little faster to keep up with Zoro's long strides. 

“You sure we're heading the right way?” He groans as an answer, and you giggle. “It better be good coffee.”

“Like I said, it's good, not the best. But you can ask for the best on Saturday, the Cook will be there too.” His voice is clipped, like he thinks you might show some interest in Sanji, and you can't help but feel a little warmth in your chest. Is he jealous? 

But then his mention of the gathering churns your stomach for a whole other reason, and you become quiet all of a sudden. Zoro silently switches sides with you, making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk as he takes the side closer to the road, and you sigh. 

“What's wrong?” Zoro's eyebrow quirks up and you realise he's splitting his attention between your surroundings and your expression. He's attentive to every car, every person, every sound, and motion. 

And he's doing it unwillingly. 

“I… I just… I'm nervous.” You finally admit with a resigned sound. 

“About what?” He grimaces. “The Cook?”

What? “No!” You let out an exasperated huff. “You guys stuck together all these years, and I left… I made no effort to connect with you, besides Nami and Robin, and you kept going with your lives. Now I just kind of fell back into your lives, and Nami is dragging me back into the group like I still belong.” You sigh without meeting his gaze and he places a hand on your arm to steer you away from a pothole you missed and would've tripped over if he hadn't seen it. “I feel like an outsider, that's all.”

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Excuse me?” You stop dead in your tracks just to stare at his smug face. “I’m baring my heart to you, and that’s all you have to say?”

Zoro crosses his arms and stares at you deadpan. He was never one to mince words or to soften them to deliver lighter blows, and you always cherished that about him. His brutal honesty. 

“You’ve been gone for a while, it’s true, and maybe some of us don’t quite understand why you didn’t feel the need to stay connected… to reach out… but that was your decision.” There’s a hint of hurt in his voice, and you feel shame shadowing your thoughts again. He’s talking about himself. Running a hand through his short green hair, he exhales a deep breath. “But you’re still part of the crew. You’ll never be an outsider. And if you think Luffy will let you feel left out, you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with.”

A small smile curves your lips, and though you’re not fully convinced, you resume your slow walk. 

“I know… but still… it’s been so long, and–”

“Careful!” Zoro’s hand shoots up, and he stops you just as you were about to cross the road with a red sign. “Jesus Christ, you’re even worse than before. How the hell did you survive all these years? You should carry a neon sign with you since you’re a walking hazard.”

A flush burns your cheeks as you cross your arms and pout your lip. “I was going to stop!” You weren’t. “I didn’t need your help.” You did. “I can survive very well on my own!” Barely.

“Geez, Trouble…” He chuckles softly. “I might have to keep a permanent eye on you from now on. I was joking about you becoming paperwork on my desk, but it’s becoming frighteningly clear that it’s a very real possibility.”

The light turns green, and you both cross it, reaching the coffee shop where Zoro holds the door open for you. You choose a booth near the window and fidget with the napkin on the table before the waitress comes to take your orders. 

“Are you still thinking about not fitting in?” You grimace. “Stop that. Don’t be an idiot.”

“Geez, Zoro! You really know how to cheer a girl up.” You thank the waitress when she brings your coffee. Zoro shrugs and blows on his. 

“I’m not trying to cheer you up. I’m just stating the truth.” He points at your coffee. “It’s hot, don’t drink it yet.”

Every time he does something to keep you safe, your chest constricts, and your heart pounds harder. He’s not even doing it on purpose, so he must be this careful and protective with everyone. You shouldn’t be feeling special at all. 

Being distracted by your thoughts, you ignore his advice and take a sip, wincing immediately from burning your tongue.

“What did I tell you, Trouble? Will you ever listen to me?”

“Maybe if you stop being mean.” You mumble between your teeth, not believing your words because he’s not being mean. He’s just being Zoro. Straightforward, no-nonsense Zoro. Like he always was. 

Conversation flows easily between the two of you after that. There’s a long moment where you both reminisce about your childhood and the silly things you and your friends did as dumb teenagers. Then you ask Zoro about life as a cop and what the worst dangers he has to face in a small-time town like the one you live in are. After that, he asks you about life in the big city and what you studied, and the smile you had plastered on your face for the last hour suddenly falls as you’re reminded of your ex and how he broke your heart. 

“What’s wrong?” Then it must have dawned on him because he grimaces and adjusts his form in his seat. “Shit, I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. It’s just…” You shake your head. “It was still a four-year relationship. Though anyone could see the end coming, I just didn’t expect to be cheated on.”

You sip the rest of your coffee while Zoro stares at you. “His loss.”

“What?”

“His loss. If he couldn’t see the wonderful person you are, he’s the one who came out of the deal losing.”

You try to read whatever is in Zoro’s eye, but you can’t. He just seems very serious, so you have to assume that he is being serious. 

“We started out pretty strong, in college. But then, when we graduated and he took over a lot of his family’s business - not all of it legal, for sure - he became distant and cold.” Zoro’s brow rises as he listens to what you have to say. “Everywhere we went, he brought bodyguards with him. It became frightening to go out, I was always expecting conflict to arise.”

You set the coffee mug aside and start to fidget with the napkin again. 

“There were nights when, even though we went out together, he had so much to do that I spent more time talking to his bodyguard than to him. It hurt a bit to separate because it wasn’t on amicable terms, but it wasn’t devastating.” 

You shrug, and the napkin flies out of your hands with the gesture. You mumble a curse and bend down to pick it up, not taking into account the corner of the table when you get up, so you bump your head into–...

Zoro’s hand?

“Ouch!” You still rub your head, but when you lift your body, you see Zoro’s outstretched arm with his hand wrapped tightly around the corner of the table, a look of disbelief in his eyes. “Uh… thanks?”

He shakes his head and removes his hand silently. “Trouble magnet… you’re a hazard.” He sighs and finishes his coffee. “I’m sorry for what happened. It sucks.” He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else, but then closes it.

“What were you going to say?”

“I’m being selfish. Forget it.”

“Zoro!” You press. He always says what’s on his mind, so why not now?

“I’m glad he cheated on you, there, I said it.” You blush and narrow your eyes at him, so he explains. “If he hadn’t, you might still be living in the city, and we wouldn’t be sharing memories over coffee right now.” He takes out some berries from his pocket to pay for the coffees and gets up. “Shall we?”

It’s clear he wants to end the conversation, so you nod and get up, both leaving the place in complete silence. It takes you another minute before you gather your voice. “I’m secretly glad too… even though it made me feel useless and unwanted for a while. I’m happy to be back.”

“You’re not useless.” He says as he pushes you aside before you bump into a street pole. “You’re trouble, that’s what you are.” He quips with a smirk, and you can’t help but chuckle back at him. 

The banter continues until you both reach your car, the sun starting to set on the horizon already. You open the car door but linger outside for another minute, Zoro’s company making you feel warm and happy.

Though you can’t shake a weird feeling, a prickling in your neck and  a slight shiver down your spine, since you left the coffee house. 

“See you around, Trouble.”

“Bye, Zoro. Thank you for the wonderful afternoon.” You get inside and close the door, leaving the window rolled down so you can wave at Zoro. He taps the hood of the car twice before shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Drive safely, please.” He says with exasperation. 

“I don’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

He groans, and you chuckle. 

“Bye, Zoro!”

“Bye, Troublemaker.”

And as you check the rearview mirror for the dwindling figure of Zoro, you can't stop warmth from spreading in your chest. Today felt light and easy. And you have a certain green-haired friend to thank for that.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks

|Chapter 2|

[cyberrose2001]

If I'm not too late, can I get some TFP Wheeljack x AFAB!Reader where Wheeljack is a brat that gets off on his little human bossing him around and making him beg.

I wanna see this man whimper.

TFP Wheeljack x Human Reader

eyyyyy thank you for requesting, Tag. I apologise for the long wait, but I hope you like it!!

Warnings: AFAB, GN Reader, Cybertronian/Human, Brat Taming, Dom/Sub Elements, Collaring

Word Count: 1,450

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

"You gonna behave yourself, or do I have to tie you up again?"

"Can't promise I won't."

Wheeljack, the self-proclaimed free-thinker, prides himself on being an asshole whenever he can. You don't tolerate assholes very well, and you make that very clear to everyone. Some call it being bossy. You call it discipline. But the mech on his knees in front of you always seems to get on your nerves more than anyone else, determined to push your buttons and poke at your patience.

But in light of it all, it makes for a very good excuse to poke at his own buttons.

In the privacy of Wheeljacks' quarters, with a bare foot pressed against his modesty plates, you grasp Wheeljacks' chin and tilt his helm to look at you. The stern look in your eyes sends a shiver down his spinal strut, a fair warning that you're not in the mood for his teasing tonight.

"I beg your pardon?" You press your foot a little harder, causing a hiss from his intake.

"Ah- I promise!" Wheeljack grits his dentae, and you feel a smile creep onto your face, "I promise I will."

"Good," You grasp onto the lead of his collar and tug his helm back before thumbing at his scarred bottom derma and slipping it past, "You know I don't like it when you backchat me."

Wheeljacks' vents hitch as you slide your thumb against his glossa, groaning at the taste of your skin. Salty yet sweet, it matches your personality. He envelops around it and sucks softly, his optics flicking up to your look of approval.

"There you go," You say sweetly, pressing your thumb further against his glossa. You feel his oral lubricants start to pool in his cheeks, along with the buzz of another groan, "Isn't it so much easier to behave with something stuffed in your mouth?"

The mech closes his optics in gentle surrender, softly whining when you start to rub your foot along the seams of his bulging panels. As much as Wheeljack wanted to bite back at you with something clever and bratty, his need for you bites at him harder. He's started to slowly rut into the sole of your foot, desperate for your attention to his aching spike.

"I didn't say you could do that, now could I?" You re-tract your foot from his groin, watching his thighs tremble with a wicked satisfaction. He furrows his brows when he's only left to grind at the air, the smallest of whimpers passing through his dermas.

"Can I pressurise my spike? Please?" Wheeljack leans forward to press his face into the fat of your thigh, nuzzling and pressing languished kisses in bribery. It's an adorable sight, but you're not convinced yet.

"Where did all that cheekiness go? I touch you once, and you're already begging for it." You bite back a soft moan in an attempt to uphold your dominance when he sucks at your inner thigh. You stop yourself in your tracks and grasp the kibble of his helm, ripping him away from your skin, "Get on your back."

Wheeljack whines before complying, flopping back against the floor. He bites his derma as he feels his spike throbbing against his panels, aching to be released and graced by your unforgiving flesh.

"Do you know how much you annoy the living fuck out of me?" You crawl against him to straddle his lap, one of your hands dipping below to paw at his panels, "Because I don't think I've made myself clear enough."

Before Wheeljack can beg again, your fingers open his panels. His spike instantly springs up with a sigh of relief, rock hard and standing at attention. With a smug grin, you press your thin-clothed underwear against it, grinding your hips at an achingly slow pace.

"I think I- hah- get the idea. Can't blame me for messin' around with you." Wheeljacks' servos twitch against the floor in anticipation. The feeling of your heat and arousal only makes him more desperate to plunge himself into you.

"You do things to me, Wheeljack. You drive me crazy..."

"Yeah? T-Tell me more, sweetspark."

"I fucking love it."

You pull your underwear to the side, not even bothering to take them off. Positioning yourself on top of his spike, you push the tip past your folds. You bore holes into Wheeljacks' optics as you do, watching his face twist and dentae grit when you pause in your tracks.

"Frag- why'd ya stop?" The wrecker hisses, arching his back helplessly. You reach forward and grip the lead of his collar, securing it around your knuckles.

"Tell me how much you love it when I have my way with you, how much you purposely try my patience just to get me to snap and fuck the living shit out of you." You tug on the lead tighter, "How much you fucking love to beg for it."

Wheeljacks' face flushes a bright blue as the rest of his bravado flushes down the drain. This is what he was waiting for. The fiery and wicked charm you possess deep inside that makes his knees weak, only reserved for him. He bites his bottom dentae, a small whimpery sob slipping past.

"I fraggin' live for it." His voice strained, "I fraggin' love it when I get you to snap. Frag- sweetspark just please ride me-"

His sentence is cut short, his breath taken away as you sink down on his thickness, finally plunging into your unforgiving heat. You shiver as you're split open, clenching down on his harder-than-rock spike. Readjusting your grip on his lead, you look him dead in the optic and start to bounce your ass on him.

"Ohhhh, fragfragfrag- yes-" Wheeljack slumps his helm back as best as he could with the collar, a whiney moan escaping him as your silky walls massage him just right. He fights the urge to bounce up into you, riveted by how you take complete control of him.

"F-Fuck Wheeljack- nghh-" You bounce along his spike faster, moaning with him as he stretches you beyond capacity. The hand that isn't gripping the leash grabs onto one of Wheeljacks' servos that isn't making claw marks in the concrete and moves it to a bobbing tit, a small reward for his good behaviour.

"F-Feels' so good.... frag, I love how squishy ya are." Wheeljack gives your breast a good squeeze, optics bouncing back and forth between your chest and your pussy ravaging his spike.

A familiar pressure starts to build in the depths of your stomach, and it urges you to fuck him with more haste, "Nhh- I'm close..." Another tug of his lead sends his spike throbbing, "You've been so nice, Jackie. I'll let you cum; you wanna- you wanna cum inside? Yeah?"

The Wrecker languidly nods, another whimpery moan leaving him. With all this dirty talk, just for him, he's finding it harder and harder to resist an overload, "Y-Yeah, please, I've been good, s-so good..."

You loudly moan as your body shudders. Your thighs give up and hinder your bounces, resorting to wild rolls of your hips. You clamp down and come to an orgasm while you cry out the mech's name, strangling his throbbing spike. Wheeljack, too, wantonly cries out for you as he arches his back struts and overloads with such force that you nearly double over. But he secures his servos to your thighs and grips on, allowing himself to rut into you until his tanks are dry.

You collapse forward and pant heavily against his chassis, coming down from the high. You softly groan, feeling Wheeljacks' sticky transfluids pool beneath you. A soft chuckle vibrates you, and you feel the shaky metallic servo of Wheeljack rest against your bare back.

"Thanks, kid." He heaves, letting his sore helm rest against the floor, "Not to quote anyone verbatim, but... I really needed that."

Despite coming off as an absolute jackass with a side serving of brattiness, there is a soft, tender side to the Wrecker rarely seen by anyone else but you. It's a stark contrast to moments ago, but you take pride in knowing that the rowdy mech can be wrangled.

You've just gotta dom the fuck out of him.

You lift your head just enough to observe the playful gleam in his optics. Leaning forward, you kiss his scarred derma tenderly, "Same time next week?"

"You know it, sweetspark. I'll be sure to pull a prank or two on ya before then, just to get ya really worked up over me."

You'll be sure to get the ropes ready next time.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Hold On You 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, bullying, depression, controlling and abusive behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to look on the bright side of life but a man comes along to blot out the sun.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: Thank you all for feeding into this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s a nice day to get out. One of the last sunny days of autumn. You can smell the soil and leaves and hear the call of pumpkin spice. Maybe on your way back. 

You can’t spend another day inside. Not after the week you’ve had. Besides, once the winter hits, you’ll have more than enough reason not to go past your front door. You’re going to make the most of your day off. More so, you’re going to keep your mind busy so it doesn’t fall back into the pit. 

It feels good to move around. Between hunching at your cubicle desk and squinting over your dining room table, that crick in your neck needs to be ironed out. You have to remind yourself to stand up straight as the muscles tug between your shoulder blades. 

You stop and turn to face the record shop. As you do, you’re nearly bowled over by another pedestrian. You hadn’t realised they were so close behind you. You back up and apologise but the man doesn’t even look at you as he veers toward the front door. The bell jingle as he enters with a huff, the back of his dark jacket a vague splotch in your vision. 

Oop. You’re in the way. Again. You do your best not to do that. You never want to stir the waters or be a bump in the road but somehow you always find a way to do that. No good comes from wallowing in it. As stressful as it can be to brave the public and its unpredictability, a smile keeps you from falling apart. 

You approach the shop and swing open the door. Oof, it’s much heavier than that man made it look. You greet the associate behind the counter with a beaming morning and ‘hello?’ He asks how you are and you give the easy answer; ‘good, how are you?’ He responds with the same empty courtesy. 

You look around the covers and the little signs that delineate every genre. Before you can get into all that, you need the most important piece of all. A record player. For as long as you’ve been waiting to set foot in the shop, you’ve been saving up for the player. 

You near the table stacked with varying shades of suitcase players. You read up on each brand and style. It will be best to tuck away when you’re not using it. Your small apartment is already too cluttered. 

You pick a lilac player with little white roses stamped over the cover. It’s on sale. A sign above proclaims that you can get twenty percent off three or more records when you by a player. Well, how about that? It isn’t all doom and gloom. 

You hug the player under your arm and near the shelves mounted to the walls. You peruse the titles intently. Something new? Something you know? You definitely don’t want to get just one genre.  

As you sidle along, the corner of the box knocks against something. You look back and another ‘sorry’ bubbles from your lips. It’s that man again. He’s browsing the end cap behind you and growls at your apology. You stare at him for a moment, he seems at home in a place like this. 

“Um, excuse me, sir,” you say, “do you have any recommendations?” 

He grumbles and puts the album back in its slot. He looks over his shoulder with detest curled into his lip. The stone chiseled into his jaw makes you gulp. 

“What?” He scowls. 

“Sorry, I didn’t... I was only... curious. Have a good day, sir.” 

“Good? What’s good about it?” He hisses. You wince and move to the next section. Not far enough as he sighs, “you know, you wouldn’t like my taste anyway. Stick to your girly pop.” 

You resist a frown. You’re not going to let someone like that bring you down. You can tell that he looks for the worst in everything and everyone. You wouldn’t judge someone by their appearance but his demeanour says as much as his words. You won’t add to his cynicism but bothering him further. 

You pick out an Etta James album that you recognise. Your grandmother had the same one. You think your mother snatched it up after she passed. You didn’t get much from the inheritance. As it is, you’d rather have your grandma back. Someone to talk to. 

You move on to the rock section. There’s hair metal and classic rock and grunge and all sorts. You’re not unfamiliar with the genre but you don’t want to be too obvious.  

A scuff startles you and you glance over at the man in the dark jacket. He seems familiar. His short brown hair, his stubbly jaw, and his intensity trigger something in your head. You definitely don’t know him. Everyone you know is too busy for you. 

“Probably don’t even know how to use the damn thing,” he snips under his breath as he gets closer. 

You realise he’s talking about you. It’s no good arguing. You’ve met his kind before. Back when your friends had the time of day for you, you met that type at their parties. You avoided them. 

You leave the aisle. You don’t want to be in his way, though it seems no matter what you do, you are. You find yourself exactly where he predicted. Well, who cares? It’s all a matter of brain chemistry, right? You don’t get to choose what you like, you just like it. It makes your brain happy and heaven knows you need more of that. 

You pick out another favourite then head over to new release. You’ve never heard Sabrina Carpenter. You’ll give it a try. 

You approach the counter and as you do, another sigh storms through the shop. The man’s behind you. Oh no, had you cut him off? 

“You want to go ahead of me?” You ask as you keep your haul in your arms. 

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, a single record in his hand; The Boswell Sisters. You’ve never heard of them but it really doesn’t look like heavy metal. You turn back to the cashier and smile, “hello, um, this is it.” 

You put your things up as the man returns your smile. He asks if you want a bag and you say, ‘yes, please’. Things might not be perfect but it doesn’t mean you can’t try to make them better. And if a smile and manners can brighten someone else’s day, that alone makes yours a little sunnier. 

🪢

The box for the player has a little plastic handle. You’re happy for that as it makes your journey to cafe a little easier. You stand in line with your paper bag and bulky box and move along until it’s your turn. You order the pumpkin spice but think better of double up with the pumpkin cream muffin; you instead opt for the apple cinnamon with the chunks you can see through the top. 

Patiently, you stand by the wall until your order comes up. You crinkle around the other customers and claim it, balancing it all delicately toward an empty table. You tuck the box underneath and lean the bag against it. 

You tear apart the muffin, dividing the bottom from the top. You peel back the liner and eat the former first, pinching morsels between your fingers. You don’t know why you do it that way, you just always have.  

You taste the pumpkin spice. It’s good. Not too spicy at all. It tastes like real pumpkin. Considering the place is local, it might very well be. You pop the lid off to reveal the mostly melted cream and have another sip. 

You wipe the dairy mustache from your upper lip with a napkin and your eyes flick up to meet another pair. Not far from you, that man stands with his hands in his pockets. He’s waiting by the order window for his own delight. Well, that’s great. Maybe it will cheer him up. 

He glowers until you look through the window. Or not. The baristas call out a black coffee as you chew on the brim of the paper cup. You stare out into New York traffic and feel yourself getting smaller. It’s easy to feel lost in the city. 

As you watch through the window, a dark figure passes before it. You lift your gaze and again find yourself at the mercy of that man’s grim snarl. You quickly turn back to your latte. He must’ve had that black coffee. He might do with a bit of sugar. 

You try not to think about it. You don’t know him. You don’t know his problems. Just like anyone else. People don’t know that you feel heavy when you wake up or that you spend your hours keeping your hands busy so you don’t have to think. They only know the woman with the smile and the chipper voice and just as swiftly forget about her. 

You pick away at the muffin, savouring in each bite. You’re thankful for that. For that moment. You have coffee and a nice dessert and you got your record player. It's best not to think about all the existential stuff you can’t change. It will come back later when you’re alone. It can wait until then. 

🪢

Your walk home sees the sun hiding behind the clouds. The downpour begins a block away from your building and soaks you through. You keep your head down against the sheets of rain and hurry up the walk as the front door comes in sight. 

The elevator is out of order. Again. You climb the stairs in your squeaky soles and finally reach your apartment. You push inside and kick off your sodden shoes and peel away your jacket. The turtleneck beneath is just as drenched. 

You don’t strip down right away. You’re more concerned with your prizes. The records are fine, the covers just a bit damp, and the player doesn’t seem to have taken too much water. You leave it all on the counter and go to change into your favourite fuzzy pajamas. 

You come back out to the front room and stop to admire the slake of rain pelleting against the large windows. It might be dreary but it’s beautiful in its own way. You let the tempo lull you as you unpack the player and set it up on the book shelf.  

You slide the Etta James record from its sleeve and lay it on the player, moving the needle into place. You let it play as you back up, the boisterous tones of the legend melding perfectly with the raindrops. You smile; not the put-upon smile you wear for strangers but a smile of nostalgia and calm. You miss your grandma terribly but the music doesn’t make you sad. 

You go to the table, still messy from last night’s work. It never is clear. You always have scraps and bits littered over it, your sewing machine a permanent fixture on the worn wood. You sit and pick up the felt clump and go back to needling it to a discernible shape. 

Your brows nearly meet in the middle for your focus and it isn’t until the record begins to skip that you sit up. That damn kink is back. Your own fault. Can’t be mad at anyone but yourself. 

You flip the record and let it play out. When it’s over, you shut off the player. You eat the leftovers you’ve been parsing out for the week and settle in for your favourite romcom. It’s cheesy and a little lame but you only have to keep yourself happy. Or try to. 

You leave your plate on the coffee table and hunker down to finish the movie. You’re tired when it’s over but know you won’t sleep. So you go back to the table and work as the rain slows to a lazy rhythm. Your eyelids droop, your shoulders too, but you persist. 

The windows grow dark and there is only the distant shine of streetlights and few windows in the neighbouring buildings. You stare out at the blurring haze and it fades to a deep grey. You wake leaning back in the chair, your head hanging off your neck. You groan as you sit up and curse your carelessness. 

It won’t make work any less intolerable. You check the time ticking away on the clock that came with the apartment. You can get another hour or two. You get up and trod off to bed, not bothering to shut off the lights. You don’t sleep well in the pitch black. 

You fall into bed and just as quickly find yourself unbearable awake. All those little doubts and fears rise up to the surface and have you drowning just below. This is why you end up sleeping upright or folded over. Trying never works for you. Not at anything. 

[woominutes]

ko kyungjun as a boyfriend

he is THE hates everyone but you bf

bad boy with a soft spot for you kinda trope

just replace bad boy with bully

he doesn't go out of his way for anyone except you

princess treatment? you got it.

he'd make jinha and seungbin do the work when they are around lol

his love languages are;

acts of service

holding doors for you, buying you snacks, walking you home, helping you the week before and during your period. the things he does for you can erase any doubts that may arise in your head about his feelings for you.

he might hold back sometimes to not appear as a simp and maintain his reputation as the tough bully though.

physical touch

always has his hands on you in a way, mostly around the waist or shoulders. it is a sign of affection but also ownership as he wants to make your relationship known to other boys so they don't even dare to make a move.

also having you on his lap, he loves that. especially during recess at school, you can be found sitting on him while he zones out or talks with jinha and seungbin.

and quality time

asking you to hang out after school, inviting you to his place to chill, tagging along when you have errands to run if he is in the mood for it.

this guy literally walks away from people and situations when he doesn't care to be bothered so spending his time on/with someone definitely means something.

now about gift giving

i don't think he'd put a lot of thought into gifts. on specific occasions like anniversaries or trying to impress you, yes, but nothing too fancy otherwise.

however, you'd get little things; like a flower from a random garden he passed by from.

in my eyes, he's a casual sharer in a relationship

what is his is yours, his basketball sneakers being the only exception. food, clothes, his bed, his heart, everything.

you like his jacket? you'll share it back and forth, one week his and two weeks yours. you like his hoodie? take it. you like his shirt? wear it (but bring it back after a month and borrow another). you like his earrings? you can wear the right one and he'll wear the left one.

words of affirmation is not something he is good at

it's hard for him to express himself. he can throw a few playful sweet words here and there but rarely gets serious. he has his moments, especially after intimate situations with intense feelings, but they're few.

rarely says "i love you", he shows it instead.

he'd be the one to secretly need words of affirmation despite denying it

not too much praise though, he'll get cocky

bro felt love for the first time and his world changed #canon

such a show-off, especially with basketball

"this is for you" *misses the shot*

once threw the ball in hyunho's face because you were looking at the poor boy for too long and kyungjun got jealous

cue nahee running to help hyunho with his bloody nose

he eliminates your worries when he can

(we all know how I'm talking about)

tending to his wounds whenever he gets injured

insecure hence extreme jealousy

someone looks at you for too long? glares at them. someone talks to you? either waves them off or mocks them when they leave. someone confesses to you? they get threats as a warning. someone touches you? disappeared from the face of earth.

i could actually see him wanting to kill other boys out of jealousy but he'll hold himself back by giving them a light beating instead.

"me? jealous? ha! I'm better than that asshole"

yeah yeah sure

bro is so aggressive

you'd most likely have to witness a lot of outbursts of anger

but he apologises after, usually

intended empty words or not, you'll witness his wrath again because that is his reaction to almost everything that inconveniences him

he's throwing things and punching walls

BUT NEVER EVER hits you

even if he unconsciously shoves you, he regrets it immediately

many, mostly minor, arguments because of misunderstandings and lack of communication

he is not very confrontational when it comes to a relationship, either because he doesn't want to appear vulnerable and clingy or he doesn't know how to express himself and figure out why he is feeling the way he does.

when his hidden feelings of insecurity and discomfort bubble up, it's hell for the both of you. screaming, crying, him acting like he doesn't care to protect himself.

and his impulsivity makes it harder to make up sometimes

he might say hurtful things out of anger that will keep you away from him for a while but he rarely actually means them, it's just his defense and illusion of security.

possessive and slightly controlling

he cares too much when he considers his relationship serious and it's not just him fooling around.

unfortunately, he'll use manipulation when he wants something badly or to convince you of something. if you call him out, he'll drop the act and most likely get annoyed.

he needs a lot of work when it comes to the negative aspects of his personality for a healthy relationship to exist

he is not too much of a bad guy, he just has issues

and needs therapy

passionate makeout sessions

those big palms and veiny hands know how to grip. he's the dominant one and he won't have it any other way, wanting to have power and control over the pace and movements.

high libido, that's all i'm apparently allowed to say :P

learns and remembers a lot about you

especially your habits and quirks

if you smoke too;

he'll share his cigarettes with you

and steal a couple of yours when he is out of his

if you hate smoking;

LIKE LITERALLY CANNOT BREATHE AROUND SMOKERS

he'll make an effort to not smoke when you are present

brushes his teeth or eats a piece of gum before he kisses you if he meets you after smoking <3

can't have you thinking he is gross smh

if you're short;

he definitely teases you about your height

picks you up just for fun or carries you around like you weigh nothing

ties your shoelaces for you

playfully insulting each other and bantering all the time to show affection

you're the only one he actually listens to <3

you shove him or nudge him when he is being too mean to other people or crossing a line

still goes wild when you're not around

you are his lockscreen <3

not too much of a talkative texter

sort written replies but long voice messsages

oml that voice

sends you pics of himself all the time, expecting compliments and praise

shirtless mirror pics focusing on his abs? all yours. manspreading pictures? you got them. selfies in which he tries to appear tough but his cheeks and soft features make him look like the cutest boy you've ever seen? yep.

cares a lot about how you view him so he takes a lot of time to make sure he picks the right pics to send you.

let's not fool ourselves, he knows you love those muscles and he purposely puts them on display for you

cuddles with kyungjun are warm and tight, becoming one under a blanket

more of a motorcycle guy

buys you your own helmet <3

not one for fancy dates, maybe dinner here and there, but prefers casual hangouts

movie nights at his house, late night walks and rides, chilling at a convenience store after school.

just peaceful private moments.

pretends to not like cheesy couple things, such as matching outfits or pajamas, but they secretly warm his heart

he takes your gifts very seriously; wears them to please you or carries them around with him

get him a neck pillow

you have him wrapped around your finger no matter how much he denies it

jinha has gotten a good smack in the back of his head for voicing that fact multiple times

© to @woominutes on tumblr; do not repost or steal

[vaguesxrrow]

this was for a request for an edwin payne/gn reader dating hcs but i accidentally deleted the ask SORRYYY 😭😭 if you requested it here you go !!

edwin payne/reader dating hcs

a/n: there is nothing in this pertaining to the reader's gender but i'd like to clarify they are not a girl, as edwin is not attracted to women (to my knowledge)

reader can be read as either alive or dead

tags: gn!reader

what dating edwin payne would be like...

- before you started dating, or at the start of your relationship, edwin would be a little closed off (as is expected from him) but it was still obvious to everyone he had a soft spot for you

- even if he didnt outwardly show how taken with you he really was, it would be obvious through his actions alone

- on cases, he would especially watch out for your safety

- if you're sick or feeling even slightly unwell he will suggest you take a break from this case

- "i will come back to you. i promise." when you protest that he might need you there

- he'll give you long, long hugs when he returns

- lying in bed together after the case, facing each other, as he tells you about it

- would lay down with his head between your shoulder and neck, tracing patterns over your hand and wrist

- isn't terribly fond of pda but cheek kisses and hand holding, or linking your pinkies together are always on the table

- will also let you, and enjoy it when, you latch onto his arm

- this boy would totally try to court you

- at first his gifts would be typical types of gifts, like flowers or something expensive and fancy because he wants you to think highly of him

- but then one day he finds a silly stuffed animal he thinks you'd like and gives it to you

- you LOVE it ofc, and you dont waste a second in telling him

- he's a bit surprised but is happy you love it and would grin at you fully once you promise that yes, you really do think it's lovely

- after that, if he finds anything he knows you'll like, or if you say you want something, he WILL get it for you

- edwin taking you out on dates:

- he would put a lot of effort into your first date because, with all the running away from supernatural beings that want to kill you, he thinks both of you deserve a little normal

- imagine: a museum date, but at a kind of obscure museum that showcases ancient artifacts or something

- edwin would know a lot of facts about the different pieces and tell you about them

- however he will feel bad about going on too long, because this is your first date and he doesn't want to put you off already

- "i... apologise. i'm rambling."

- you: 'i don't mind. it's... attractive how smart you are."

- you were totally gonna say 'sexy' but is edwin really ready for that?? maybe not.

- then you kiss him before he can react, and his system kind of crashes (yeah, definitely not ready for 'sexy' just yet)

- he appreciates how you value his whole personality and genuinely love all parts of him

- he loves you just as much, if it wasn't obvious

- his love languages would probably be quality time and acts of service

- constantly making excuses to be near you

- "[ ] and i will go conduct some research in the library, the three of you can interview the witnesses."

- he thinks he's being subtle but charles, crystal, and niko always grin at you knowingly

- "have fun, lovebirds! try not to get distracted," <- coming from either of the other three, or maybe even all of them in unison

- edwin will splutter and blush

- once he realises there's no use in hiding how whipped he is for you, he'll outright say he wants to "go with his [boyfriend/partner]" to do whatever he wants to do

- he likes saying it out loud that you're together - it makes him feel giddy inside in a way no one else has before

- if you want a specific book for your research he'll take finding it very seriously

- you need a book from the top shelf? he's on it (like, literally on it, because if there's no step stool around he might actually climb the bookshelf)

- getting tired from your research? he'll mirror travel to a coffee shop and get you a drink and a sweet treat

- edwin would get jealous, and once he's secure in the relationship he would show it

- in the case of you being alive: imagine someone trying to flirt with you, maybe in the library or something from the earlier scenario

- he would knock over a book on purpose to spook the person who dared to flirt with HIS s.o

- when you tease him for it later he'll mutter something about being 'possibly a bit jealous.'

- it isn't that he doesn't trust you, as he will of course clarify, he's just very protective

[tkomptgoedluv]

just like heaven.

icantbelieveiletyougetaway pt.2

pt. 1 here | pt.2 | pt.3 here

joost klein x f! reader

tags: f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader still really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, joost has always been down bad and no one is surprised, quite angsty, lots of comfort, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 2,494.

warnings: references to SA, detailed mentions of non-specific mental illness, rpf.

notes: pt. 2 is finally here! i’m sorry it’s taken so long and thank you all for waiting <3 — i really can’t tell if i hate this part or not. it feels both dragged out and rushed, but i wanted to add more backstory to their relationship and leave a half-open ending incase anyone wants a pt. 3. i apologise if it’s awful. enjoy! 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

you hated hospitals.

you weren’t quite sure why, it wasn’t like you’d ever spent enough time in one to actually form your own opinion until now.

but you did. you really, really did. they were too cold and the lights were too harsh, you couldn’t stand all the bare white walls, and seeing so many sick people all together made you feel nauseous. especially the older ones — if it wasn’t for the steady beats of their heart monitors, you would’ve assumed that they were already dead.

you weren’t like them; you weren’t sick. if it wasn’t for joost and his promise of buying you a pack of your favourite cigs, you never would’ve come here. you were the type to take a few ibuprofens and carry on as if nothing was wrong, as if simply taking a couple steps around your living room wasn’t enough to make you cry.

as it turns out though, that actually would’ve made things a whole lot worse for you.

apparently you needed a lot of different stitches in a lot of different places from how badly he had torn you up. the doctor even praised you for coming in when you did, saying that you could’ve died from several different infections had you left it all untreated. you tried not to let yourself think about that for too long.

the good news however, was that it was all an easy fix somehow. the stitching, whilst absolutely horrible, didn’t take longer than an hour or so and you were given just enough painkillers to last until all the bruising goes away. really, not a lot of time had passed before you were being discharged with a stack of leaflets all advertising local therapists. you chucked them into the very first bin that you saw.

you fucking hated hospitals.

it was snowing again by the time you made it out of the main doors, small specks of white collecting in your hair and wetting your eyelashes. you loved the cold and especially the snow, but it was something that you really could’ve gone without right now. the cold that consumed you only worsened each ache and pain that you felt, from the tops of your shoulders all the way down to your knees.

you were already shivering by the time you reached joost. he had perched himself on a nearby bench, a cigarette in one hand and what looked like a paper bag of pastries in the other. it brought a toothless smile to your face, the kind that could actually reach your eyes, when you realised that he still remembered.

it had been three years ago that you had first met joost and the rest of the group; two and half since that day. you hadn’t seen it coming, not when you had been doing so much better than you ever had before. you were going out more and socialising, eating better, and staying on top of the little things like the dishes and laundry. for once you actually felt human and not like just some basket case.

you weren’t ready to wake up that one morning, a fine layer of frost dusted across your bedroom window, and feel like you couldn’t move. you laid there and watched the sun fight to be seen until it dipped below the skyline, leaving you to wallow in the dark, alone. you’d ignored every buzz of your phone until they eventually stopped, and still cried when they did. you cried until your eyes grew heavy, having worn yourself out beyond the point of staying awake.

when a quick knock at the door had woken you up from your sleep, you ignored it like everything else. you curled up further in on yourself and prayed that whoever it was would just give up and leave you be, that they would walk away and let you rot in the sanctity of your own bed. it was there that you listened to their knocks slowly turn desperate until they stopped, only to be followed by the sound of your spare key turning in the lock.

as light flooded in from the hallway, the open door engulfing your small studio in shades of orange and yellow, you heard your own name break the silence.

“psst, hey it’s me, it’s joost. are you home?”

you cried again, right then and there at the sound of his voice.

with your whole entire heart you adored all of your friends but with joost it was just…different. it was on the very first day of that music festival you’d bumped into him, oblivious to who he was and how he was one of the names on the lineup. he still wishes that you could’ve seen the look on your face when he took you backstage, letting you watch his show from the wings. after that, the two of you had more or less been glued at the hip.

for seventy-two hours straight, you had spent every minute with him and the rest of his friends. they all welcomed you in with open arms, and for whatever reason seemed to love almost as much as he did. stuntje was already referring to you as his ‘little sister’ by the third day, and nathan was set on making you a permanent fixture in the group.

but you were still you, though. the more everyone pushed to get to know you, the more of an effort you made to keep them all at an arm’s length — for both your sake and theirs. except you never really could with joost, and now he was there, fumbling around in your living room as he tried to make a beeline for you in the dark.

no one had heard from you in two days.

what had felt like mere hours, a single afternoon at most, had been two days. that was why he was there with you, sat on the edge of your bed with a hand rubbing your back, begging for you to talk to him. when you wouldn’t, he offered you the compromise of at least joining him for breakfast and revealed a small bag of pastries before you could say no.

“i had a feeling you’d be hungry; call it a mother’s intuition.”

through all of the tears and snot, he’d made you laugh. it was weak and hoarse, and made the very back of your throat burn, but it was still a laugh. joost had taken it as a yes and helped you sit up, fully committing to the bit and ‘mothering’ you in every way that he knew how, like slipping his own hoodie over your head the very second he saw you shiver.

it was like that you had sat and ate each and every single one of the pastries with him, and later forgave him for all of the crumbs you were still finding in your bed a week later.

and now here he was, almost three years later, clutching yet another bag of those pastries in his hand. you became thankful for the snow when your eyes began to turn red and water, your bottom lip starting to tremble ever so slightly. you could blame it on the cold then, blame it on something rational like a snowflake getting in your eye instead of admitting that you were crying over croissants.

“hey! how was -” joost almost slipped on a patch of ice when you near-enough tackled him, burying your face in his chest as you wrapped your arms around his middle. the sheer force of it knocked the cigarette from his other hand; he seemed not to notice. “hey…you good?”

a cold hand cradled the back of your head, his fingers gently scratching the back of your scalp.

“you remembered the pastries.”

even as the words were still coming out, they felt silly; you felt silly. nobody with their head screwed on straight would be getting all teary-eyed and weepy over their friend picking up some breakfast. besides, there was still the chance that for joost, that was all it was — a sweet but small thing that he could do for you on a day guaranteed to be awful.

but joost just wasn’t one to do things small. there was always intent and meaning in everything that he did. you knew there had to be something else behind it, something worthy of all these tears in your eyes.

“well yeah, i’ve got that motherly instinct, remember?”

you laughed as you pulled away from him, wiping your sore eyes with the palms of your hands. there was no point in trying to blame it on the cold or the snow anymore, you knew that just from the big doe-eyed look that joost gave you. he’d caught a glimpse of your wet cheeks and the penny had finally dropped.

it almost hurt him knowing that for even a moment, you had honestly thought he wouldn’t have remembered the pastries.

that day — two years, six months, and thirteen days ago, was burned into his memory whether he wanted it to be or not. he hadn’t known much about you back then, but knew enough to know that you hadn’t gone M-I-A for two days simply because you were caught up with work or family. he also knew that showing up to your place unannounced and uninvited was a bold move on his part; you hadn’t known a great deal about him, either.

joost wasn’t very good at losing people. when you meant something to him, you were like family, and joost couldn’t quite cope with losing family.

honestly, he already really liked you and liked having you around, and that only made it worse for him when all of a sudden you weren’t anymore. you’d been at every one of his shows, every group-meet at whatever bar was deemed most convenient for the night, and every video shoot that was in desperate need of another extra. in his defence, he had tried calling first. infact, he’d called you around six times before turning up on your doorstep that morning.

joost pulled you back into him, resting his chin on the top of your head. it wasn’t your doubt in him that stung like the cold that nipped at his fingertips, but how you could never find it in yourself to believe that someone would want to do something for you. especially him, because surely you knew by now that he would do absolutely anything for you, right?

the words were on the very tip of his tongue. with you in his hold, the both of you together in the snow, he really wanted to say it. wanted to promise that he’d buy you those pastries every day for the rest of his life if you asked him to. wanted to squeeze you and shake you and tell you that of course he would, because you could ask him to jump and he’d only say ‘how high?’

instead, joost simply smiled when he finally let you go. he had to trust that it said everything he wanted to say for him, because you wouldn’t ever let him actually say it, would you? but now also wasn’t the right time, either, because the snow was falling harder and he could feel the tremor in your hands as he held them.

“cmon, you’re coming back to mine.”

you didn’t argue, nor did you resist when he started to lead you in the direction of his house. it made the most sense; it was a lot closer and despite all of the pain medication you were on, you still didn’t feel like walking. plus, you really liked joost’s place. it was bigger than yours, and nicer, and felt a lot more like home than your own flat did sometimes.

he was still holding onto your hand as the pair of you headed back down the highstreet, slipping past the few others that were brave enough to face the weather. with your head kept down low, you never saw how joost keep looking back at you every couple of steps, searching for any signs of hurt or pain.

“you know, you still haven’t told me how it went in there. everything okay?”

“yeah, everything’s fine.” you hesitated saying anything further and only continued once you felt a small squeeze of your hand, a quiet way of coaxing you to keep going. “they had to stitch me up a bit — said i have to take it easy and that i’m going to be on these pain meds for a while, but yeah. i’m gonna be okay.”

“i should’ve broken a lot more than his nose.”

immediately you shook your head, a few strands of hair falling in front of your eyes as you did so.

“no, you shouldn’t have. you shouldn’t have even done that.” it was hard to miss the scoff that immediately followed, as well as the few swear words that joost then muttered underneath his breath. “i should’ve broken his legs, actually.”

you pulled on his arm hard enough to get him to stop, and to turn and face you. there was nothing left of that sweet smile he once had, only a hardened jaw and a look that seemed to worsen the bruising around his eye.

“you and i both know that you’re not that guy, joost. you don’t do things like that.”

“i would for you.”

the way he said it, so obviously as though he shouldn’t have even had to say it at all, took you back. joost was a lot of things, a lot of kind, wonderful, stubborn things, but he wasn’t violent. last night was the first time you’d ever seen him behave like that; it had scared you then, and to hear him say that he’d do worse if he could, scared you now.

he wasn’t like you, he actually had something to lose. if those videos from last night got out, the ones of him throwing punches against three different guys, that could cost him everything. festivals could drop him from their line ups, brands could double back on their partnerships, other artists could pull out on their collabs. you couldn’t make sense of why none of that seemed to matter to him, why his whole career seemed to be an afterthought compared to you.

you couldn’t be worth all that trouble.

“why? why for me?”

joost really did have the worst luck, didn’t he?

had it been any other day, any other place, joost would’ve been screaming from the rooftops by now. he’d let not just you but the whole of amsterdam know just how much he was stupidly head over fucking heels for you. here you were, asking him to speak those very same words that he’s been swallowing down, because finally you were ready to hear them.

how bittersweet it was, that it just wasn’t the right time.

“i’ll tell you later, schatje. promise.”

[gor3-hound]

sneaking out of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, religious guilt, sexually repressed reader, allusions to abusive parents

a/n: i'm soooo nervous about this one lmao... will be smut eventually, but part of is kinda just... setting things up, yay!! not really sure how to tag this part either, so sorry if i missed anything :// title from the waterparks song of the same name <3

word count: 1.3k words

Growing up in the church offered you the only sliver of normalcy in your childhood. Your father, the pastor, was a strict man. He'd always made his expectations of you clear, and you were not one to go against his teachings. After all, his words were the extension of the words of God, as he had made abundantly clear.

You'd never been to a public school, and living in such a small town meant you were not subjected to things that most young girls were. Your father favoured it. This way, he could ensure his daughter stayed free of temptation. That she would be safe under his watchful eye, and never stray from the teachings of God.

Still, in the Church, you felt at home. In God's eyes, all men were created equal. You felt like you had some semblance of free will, less trapped under your father's thumb. As long as you devoted your life to God, you would be safe. He would provide for you, and you'd be able to leave this town.

This did not mean you did not miss the things that most teenagers got to experience. Fiddling around with the computer your dad allowed you for home-schooling purposes and finding incognito mode was something that instantly fed into your curiosity. Your dad couldn't monitor what you were doing, and it made you feel more comfortable to explore.

You never ventured too far, of course. It was as though you felt God Himself would strike you down if you looked at something you shouldn't. No, all you did was watch teen dramas with your volume muted late at night when you knew your father was asleep. You read the subtitles as you watched, fascinated by the idea of partying and going out. Having fun. Being free.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to speak with someone your own age. This town was filled with old folks, and those who had kids all seemed to decide to have them a good ten or so years before or after you were born, so you were left being the only teenager there.

As you got older, the need to spread your wings and leave the nest only grew. Your father got stricter, roped you into more church duties. Anything to keep your curious mind wandering too much.

That was until the Kennedys moved into town.

Along with them came a boy, only a few years older than you. You could feel the tension in your father's body as you stood next to him while greeting them after they attended their first Sunday Mass there.

Their son, Leon, stood behind them looking incredibly uninterested. It was as if your father could sense what the boy would do to your mind, how he'd plague your thoughts late and night when you were all alone. You shook his hand that day, and that contact alone was enough to cause your downfall.

As you lay in bed that night, you felt the devil claw his way into the corner of your mind. He made his home there, filling you with thoughts that left you weak to temptation. As wetness pooled in the gusset of your panties remembering how Leon's hand felt in yours, you sobbed.

You prayed for God's forgiveness when the thoughts subsided. Apologised profusely for even thinking about touching yourself. The next morning, your shower took twice as long. You pretended it was the heat of the summer, but you knew it was your attempt at washing the dirty thoughts from your mind.

Every Sunday, Leon was begrudgingly dragged to church by his parents. And every Sunday, you fall further and further into sin. Until one day, you can't find Leon as you gaze into the pews.

It bothers you more than it should. You should be relieved. If he had convinced his parents to allow him to avoid church, you'd be rid of your temptation. God had heard your prayers, and he had offered you a solution.

You were not so lucky.

As you leave the church, Leon is propped outside against one of the walls. He's smoking, his lips the picture of sin as they wrap around the cigarette while he takes a drag.

His gaze flicks to you, and he tosses it to the floor, stopping it out with the toe of his boot. He grabs your arm, dragging you to the side of your church despite your protests.

“I've seen you watching me.” He says bluntly, but your brain can only focus on the sound of his voice and the way his hand feels as it lingers on your arm. You blink a few times, taking longer than usual to register his words.

“I-I haven't…”

“You have been, though.” He says harshly, brows furrowing like he's ready for a fight. “Think you're better than me? I can feel you judging me, y'know. I didn't want to come to this shitty town. I know I'm not like you.”

Your expression twists into one of confusion. Judging him? If anything, you were the one that deserved to be judged. You shake your head quickly, your heart beating so hard it felt like it would come out of your chest.

“I wasn't… I was just… just curious, that's all.”

He narrows his eyes like he's trying to see if you're lying. After a moment of studying you, he seems pleased enough with your answer and releases your arm.

“Cool. Your dad just really laid it on to my parents. They won't get off my back. Thought he sent you to keep an eye on me or something.” He says with a shrug, his gaze trailing over you.

“I'm not my father.” The words come out more sharp than you intended, and you're instantly scolding yourself mentally for speaking in that way. You take in a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting his gaze once more.

“I was wondering if we could be friends?” You ask softly, your voice shaking with slight nerves. Your father would probably crucify you if he knew you were alone with a boy, and here you were trying to bargain more time with him.

“It's just… well, I've never been able to hang around someone my age before, and-”

“Never?” He interrupts, brows furrowing as he looks at you. A small frown tugs at his lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss it away.

You shake your head softly, embarrassment burning in your chest.

“Shit. Does your old man keep you locked up in the church basement or something?” He asks with a laugh that only grows louder when he sees how affronted you are by him cursing.

He's joking, but it's not so far from the truth. You've been tethered to this town since the day you were born, kept on a leash so tight you could feel your airwaves being restricted more and more with every tug made by your father.

“It's just… I've never left this town.” You say quietly, and just like that, Leon's expression softens.

“You don't seem so happy about that.” He replies. The look on your face confirms his suspicions, but you don't say anything in response.

“Hey, well… I'll tell you everything you want to know.” He says with a smile that makes you weak in the knees.

If God created everyone in His image, he must have put a little extra of Himself in Leon Kennedy. You're not entirely convinced you're not in the presence of an angel. Or perhaps a demon sent by the devil to lure you into a life of sin.

You brush the thoughts away quickly. Leon was a human, plain and simple. It didn't matter what he looked like. All men were created equal, you remind yourself. There was nothing wrong with talking to him.

“So we're friends?” You ask hopefully, extending a hand in hopes of making contact with his calloused palms once more.

“Yeah. Friends.”

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

Nash Hawthorne & Libby Grambs Headcannons:

(bc my babies are far too underrated and they need some love)

tag list: @bewitchingkisses @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket

- they decorate cowboy hats for all occasions and match

- it’s actually one of their favourite things to do on a date

- sometimes they do things like swap every ten minutes/try and design the perfect hat for the other/ choose a theme and design off of that

- nash 100% writes songs about libby and plays them too her on his guitar as well as singing

- nash has such a good singing voice and libby finds it really soothing

- sometimes libby will ask nash to give her two random flavours that she has to somehow incorporate into a cupcake

- nash learns how to dye libby’s hair when she wants to change it so he can do it for her

- similarly he also gets libby to teach him how to do different hairstyles (like braiding etc)

- he’s awful at it but libby thinks it’s so cute

- they are defos the biggest animal lovers, so they’d have a cat and a dog bc they couldn’t decide between the two

- I really feel like they’d have a horse as well (or maybe a few horses?? who knows??)

- and tell me they wouldn’t go horse riding into the sunset together wearing their matching cowboy hats

- they’d go in late night drives and blast Taylor Swift in the car

- libby is a passenger princess but nash loves that

- when Taylor released new albums they’d literally be the first in the store to buy it and then know all of the songs by the next day

- libby is a sucker for romance movies and always begs nash to watch them with her, he always complains but secretly he loves them too

- nash ALWAYS cries at the end of notebook and titanic

- libby finds this absolutely adorable

- nan loves libby and constantly tells her that she’s too good for nash

- once libby suggested they play strip bowling and nash literally blushed so hard

- nash tells libby so many crazy stories about him and his brothers and now she has so much to blackmail them all with (but she never will because she’s a literal ray of sunshine)

- libby has this notebook and when nash really likes a cupcake flavour she’ll secretly write it down so she can remember what he really loves and then surprises him with it a few weeks later

- every month the two of them aim to read a book together to talk about it

- nash sometimes uses cake-inspired nicknames when talking to libby, for example ‘sprinkle’, ‘cupcake’ and ‘jellybean’

- his brothers mock him for it but they shut up when nash glares at them

- nash is petrified of spiders but libby refuses to let them be killed, so whenever there’s one in the house libby has to pick it up and take it outside, whilst nash hides in a corner

- libby is the deepest sleeper. EVER. like this girl could sleep through three earthquakes whereas nash is a really light sleeper

- libby snores and nash thinks it’s really cute but he will never tell her

- nash loves painting her nails

- they rant about what they’re passionate about to the other and the other will literally just stare at them lovingly for however long

- they rarely ever fight and when they do they both absolutely hate it and end up just apologising and cuddling

- nash would literally do ANYTHING for this woman… like she wants random sour gummies at 3am? he is out the door. she needs an extra bag of flour mid cake-off? he’s the man on the job. she doesn’t want to go out? he already has a list of excuses and a second list of things they can do instead of going out…

- libby hates mushrooms in anything so will pick all of them out if they’re in her food and nash will eat them for her

- nash absolutely loves to have libby in his arms

- though she never really admits it, when libby sees nash take his helmet off after a motorbike ride she blushes so freaking hard

- she turns into an adorable little tomato

- libby hates being in any sort of limelight, interviews and paparazzi make her really uncomfortable so nash makes sure she doesn’t have to deal with it

- she never does any interviews and he’s very protective of her when approached by paparazzi, putting an arm around her and shielding her face in his chest, walking away quickly as he requests the paparazzi to stop

- it is also important to both libby and nash that when they have kids they don’t grow up with all the pressure of the media. they don’t show their kids faces or reveal that much about them, until they’re old enough to do it for themselves and consent

- nash is actually a really good cook but a horrible baker

- libby tried to teach him how to make a cupcake once and he managed to mess it up

- and don’t even get me started on when he tried to ice a cupcake… that was an abomination

- but they often plan nights where nash cooks the meal and libby bakes desert and the two of them enjoy it together

- nash really cares deeply that libby always feels safe and happy and loved in the relationship because of her last relationship

- he checks with her every once in a while

- libby finds this so sweet and is so touched that someone cares this much about her

- they’re not massive on PDA, nash likes to have his arm around her usually

- that said, they’re not afraid to kiss or show affection if people are around, they just tend not to

- nash gives the BEST massages, they’re to die for and libby adores them

- no one makes libby laugh harder than nash does

- and he loves the sound of her laugh

- like grayson, libby is also REALLY ticklish so nash often starts tickle wars with her

- when they go to a restaurant libby is very indecisive so nash just tells her to order two or three things and whatever she doesn’t want he’ll eat

- one of their daughter’s first words is ‘yee-haw’ (CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE!!!)

- nash is such a natural dad because he had so much experience literally raising his brothers

- when libby sees this it makes her really emotional and she thinks she’s a bad mom

- but nash reassures her that she is literally the best mom in the world and that their twins are so lucky to have her

a/n: I just found these headcannons at the bottom of my drafts so I’m posting them?! I don’t even know how long ago they were written but I hope you enjoy anyways. I’ve decided they’re in honour of the libby and nash cards coming out (omg I’m obsessed)

also let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in headcannons in the future, I just tagged everyone I normally would but if you don’t want to don’t be shy to let me know <333

TIG masterlist

[monzamash]

strawberries and cream — daniel ricciardo

summary – a pre-wimbledon rendezvous never hurt nobody. pairing – daniel ricciardo x you (female reader) rating – 18+ (smut, course language, light dom) word count – 1.6k a/n – this has been in my drafts for tooo long and actually came from two prompts sent in a few weeks ago by @percervall and anon, which were thigh riding 🔥 and “I really don’t care, you look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now” so rip to us all. masterlist

“Right this way, Mr Ricciardo.”

Wimbledon was the perfect amount of pomp and you expected nothing less from your British counterparts. There were celebrities everywhere you looked, right and left – all mingling and gossiping in the section exclusively reserved for the who’s who of London’s elite. It was your first time attending Wimbledon and the first public outing with Daniel outside of the formula one bubble.

You were nervous and understandably so, but the reassuring hand resting on your back, reaching for you every time he lost contact eased your nerves. He was the one who convinced you to tag along after all, insisting that you’d love it because you loved him. Cheesy, but it worked. And selfishly, he didn’t want to go alone.

“Thanks mate.” Daniel thanked the usher before scooting down the row, his bright smile greeting everyone you snuck past and apologising profusely until you made it to your seats.

Daniel pointed down at one of the two empty seats, offering for you to sit down first, “Oh absolutely not – after you, Mr Ricciardo,” You teased before taking the seat graciously, cheekily grinning up at your man.

Ha-ha, he sarcastically bit back and slid in next to you, hand instantly reaching for your thigh, “Sounds a lot better when you say it,” he whispered into your ear, capturing your undivided attention.

“Play your cards right and you might hear it again,” You taunted back in a hushed voice, giving him a taste of his own medicine and earning a soft whine in return.

You and Daniel had arrived late to the event, and for good reason. Barely a second had ticked by before Daniel had his hands on your waist, tugging you out of your shared bathroom and into his chokehold, “This dress is something else.”

His compliments never just washed over and your blushing cheeks always gave you away. There was something about the way he said them that was different to all of your exes, a sincerity that almost always took you by surprise even though he always made sure you knew how incredible you were. He was earnest and it was one of the reasons why you’d fallen in love with him. That list was endless.

“You look so good too, baby.” You teased, letting him pull you into his lap without much of a fight. The second you got a whiff of his cologne, you were under his spell, tingling between your thighs. There was something about it, something about him that made you weak, even when you knew you had to resist the temptation.

“But we don’t have time for this – you need to put on some pants because we’re already running late…”

You tried to reason but Daniel simply hummed into your neck and ghosted his lips over your skin, “I really don’t care, babe because you look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now so…” He groaned, skimming his hands up under the hem of your dress and readjusting you on his thigh, “Get rid of these and ride me.”

“You’re not even hard, Dan,” You practically giggled as he tugged at your underwear. You could feel his soft cock under the thin cotton boxer briefs that were brushing against your leg, wondering what the hell he was on about.

“I’m not talkin’ about my dick, sweetheart. I want you to get yourself off on my thigh.”

Your voice got caught in your throat as you tried to protest, not really knowing how to respond but you knew you couldn’t do what he was asking, could you? You wanted to, of course, but time was ticking and the tennis waits for no-one, especially not two horny so and so’s who couldn’t keep it in their pants.

A raspy chuckle and a barely there stroke of your sensitive clit brought you out of the tormented thoughts you were having, which only exacerbated your desires.

“Hold ‘em just like that for me – that’s it,” Daniel encouraged as you reached down and held your panties to the side, letting your already slick pussy brush against his tanned, tattooed thigh.

Daniel brought his fingers up to his mouth, covered them in his spit and quickly resumed his pressure on your clit that was screaming for his attention. He’d riled you up, looked at you like you were his prey in the wilderness, ready to pounce and make you feel like you were on fire. And he’d barely even touched you yet, which made the sensation of his wet, yet rough fingertips feel even better. You couldn’t help but dive into the crook of his neck, a soft whiny moan slipping from your lips as he slowly stoked you into a state of pure bliss.

“Just rock back like that – remember that time in Portugal when we snuck off to the bathroom and did this? You liked that, right?”

Daniel needed to know that you were as excited about this as he was. He was being selfish in a way because watching you experience unsurmountable amounts of pleasure gave him a lot more satisfaction than his own high ever could and you deserved it after agreeing to spend your day off going to this match with him. It was going to be insufferable in the heat so he owed you this.

“I loved it.”

You didn’t even bother to look up from his neck when you moaned a reply to his question, now sliding against his unbelievably thick fingers that were warming you up for the main event, “I could come like this.”

“Don’t,” Daniel firmly shot back before removing his hand and gripping your rutting hips, “Find where it feels the best, baby. Make a mess, I don’t care – do what you need to do to feel good, yeah?” His voice was melodic, calming, erotic and you did as you were told.

The angle wasn’t perfect to begin with as you lowered yourself and completely surrendered to the mercy of his tensed thigh. It felt great even while you tested the waters, but as you began to rock back and forth, you could feel the muscles in his leg contracting and you needed to chase them to chase your high. It was almost like a game the way the landscape of your playground kept changing, a ridge under hi taut skin suddenly appearing out of nowhere, hitting your clit perfectly and lunging you forward into Daniel’s shoulder, moaning uncontrollably.

“You have no idea how good this feels,” You groaned into his ear, kissing him profusely, trying to distract yourself from how embarrassingly close you were after only a couple of minutes riding on his thigh.

“Sounds like it,” Daniel replied, eyes focused on where your wetness was dripping down his leg, tattoos glistening under the dim bedroom lighting. If he wasn’t hard before, he was now but he hadn't even noticed. Fucking you senseless wasn’t always a means to his end and he was more than happy having you unravelling above him, sharp teeth biting the skin on his clavicle as you bucked through your high, “You gonna come for me? Show me how good it feels.”

Mmm-hmm, you hummed, high-pitched and barely audible to the human ear. You threw your head back, panting, arched spine as the knots twisting in your stomach came undone. Daniel’s name and a couple of expletives tumbled from your throat, one after the other, repeating until you felt his hand slapping down on your bare arse, the sound and sensation alone nearly triggering your orgasm again until you caught your breath and composed yourself.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” Daniel whispered and tucked the hair that had fallen from your hair tie out of the way of your angelic face.

“Fuck, I wish you could see yourself right now.”

“Bad?” You grimaced, feeling droplets of sweat sliding down your spine underneath your thin white dress, knowing you probably looked like a hot mess. But Daniel shook his head and chuckled, shocked by your question.

“What? No! You look unreal like this, all fucked out and blushing – you drive me fucking crazy… And look at you all over me,” He groaned, languidly swiping his fingertips over his gleaming thigh and licking them, savouring your elixir. The colours were more vibrant, clearer now without the lustful haze hindering your vision.

“So. Bloody. Sexy,” He punctuated each word with a firm peck to your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth on the last one and taking your breath away again.

“You are.” You mumbled into his feverish mouth before pressing your shaky hands to his shoulders and breaking the heated kiss, “But we really have to go, honey. I think the uber’s called me three times.”

“You know what? Nick is such a fucking brat anyways, why are we supporting him again?” Daniel asked as he dragged himself up from the bed in search for the pants he’d ironed only an hour ago.

“That’s a great question…” You quietly hummed, not really knowing the answer yourself, “Kinship, maybe? Pity? I have no idea but you said you’d be there so we have to be there.”

And here you were, silently sitting and watching his fellow Aussie chucking a tantrum at the end of every game, hands clasped together in Daniel’ lap. You glanced up to your left and rested your chin on his padded shoulder, looking like a dream in his suit and tie, sunglasses shielding his kind eyes.

“Thank you for earlier, by the way. Don’t think I voiced my appreciation properly,” You whispered causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end as a smirk tugged on the corners of his mouth. Daniel tilted his head to the side and leaned in close to the cusp of your ear, cheek-to-cheek and whispered –

“My pleasure… but you can thank me properly later, sweetheart.”

thoughts? feelings? i wanna know all of them! or click here for more of my writing if you liked this one x

[jeeseth]

cute distraction. (req)

pairing , ryu sarang x fem!reader ᵎᵎ

summary , sarang volunteered to accompany you while you practiced, but you're starting to wonder why she constantly keep telling you to redo the dance.

tags — fluff, short ff, trainee au, clingy sarang, a lot of skinship, literally just sarang being in love . ( grammatical errors. )

around a year ago, you got accepted into wakeone ent. and you were lowkey regretting your decision, not until you met sarang. she willingly guided you around the company on your first week there. and after a few more talking with sarang, you two becomes close! no matter where you go, sarang will always finds her way to you (guided by the lights i fear). she will always be stuck to your side like a lovesick puppy.

and slowly, this friendship bloomed into something more. something you didn’t expected. as the days passed by, you keep getting more and more attracted to sarang and so does she. the small talks and playful bantering turns into constantly flirting and a lot of skinship like holding hands, hugging and even comforting each other.

long story short, you shyly confessed your feelings to sarang while you two were having a picnic together at the Han river. and of course sarang felt her heart swelled with affection and excitement. she pulled you in for a kiss after that. and guess who turns into the same colour as a tomato!

now you’re currently practicing for the all-rounder mission with sarang who volunteered to be your camerawoman for today. strangely, sarang already makes you redo the dance for more than five times already. and you’re getting really sceptical at the way she’s grinning while recording you.

"hmm baby, i think you need to do it again." sarang muttered while sitting in front of you with her back against the mirror in the dance practice room. all that while she eyed you up and down with her gaze lingering on her zipped hoodie that you’re wearing.

you sighed and mentally patted your own back, before dancing to the music again. after that, you went to her before asking, "was it better? lemme see" you reached out for the phone and sarang reluctantly pulled the phone away from you.

"oops sorry, i didn’t press record." your eyes widened as you sighed again. "why not?! sarang- are you even doing your job?"

"nope" sarang mumbled before looking up at you. "sorry not sorry, babe." you let out an exaggerated sighs at her reply as you lay down on the floor.

"baby listen to me," sarang chuckled before pulling you closer to her. she rested her hands on your waist as she practically makes you sit on her lap, facing her.

"i can’t help it okay? how can i focus when you’re wearing my clothes.. it’s too tempting." sarang chuckled as she saw you pouting. she pecked your cheeks before apologising.

"sorry not sorry baby" sarang giggled, caressing your waist gently.

"i hate you."

"no you don’t, you love me"

"ugh! thank god you’re cute. now come on! record me properly" you playfully rolls your eyes before standing up.

"yes babe"

a/n — sorry cz it’s short + i forgot who requested this..

[runninriot]

inspired by the song Solitude by Black Sabbath, written for @steddiesongfics june song fics

Memories I Have Remind Me Of You

wc: 1999 | rated: T | tags: modern au, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, marriage proposal, dealing with heartbreak and regrets, Steve needs a little push from a stranger to make it right, sad but with a happy ending

The girl is nice. She’s pretty. Big eyes, plush lips, a kind smile, dimples.

Fucking dimples.

Her hair’s long and curly, doesn’t remind Steve of anyone in particular.

It doesn’t.

He does not think about someone else when the warm colour of her brown irises makes him remember.

Steve tries to listen when she talks, tries to laugh when she giggles sweetly, tries not to jerk away when she brushes his hand in a flirty manner but it’s hard to focus when his mind isn’t where it should be.

Did she just ask him a question?

   “You didn’t even listen, huh?”

Steve shakes his head, looks back up at her, tries for an apologetic smile but to his confusion, she doesn’t even seem mad at him for not paying attention.

No, it’s worse.

She’s got that empathic, knowing look in her eyes. Like she can see right through him.

    You’re so easy to read, baby.

He was never good at pretending.

   “I’m not boring you, am I.”

It’s not really a question. The girl knows she’s a good catch, knows she isn’t the problem – Steve is.

   “No, uh. Sorry, I-“

Who is he even trying to fool? No excuse he’s trying to come up with would be good enough because if he looks how he feels, it must be written all over his face. No way to hide the obvious.

I can see it in your eyes, baby. Your eyes always tell the truth.

Steve should’ve known it was a bad idea the moment he saw her picture, noticed the similarities. She instantly reminded him of-

He shouldn’t have agreed to this date.

Not because he doesn’t like her, no. She’s perfect, really. Or she would be.

They matched on a dating app, texted a bit back an forth. She was fun to talk to, made him laugh. And when she asked him if he wanted to meet, he thought that maybe it would help. That maybe this was his sign to finally get his ass back out there. He’d been holed up at home for too long. Sulking, sad, depressed.

Life just hasn’t been the same ever since.

His favourite meal has lost its taste. His favourite songs all sound off-key. Going to his favourite bar just seems like a waste of time - Steve’s life has lost its light, making everything seem dark and grey and dull.

Nothing is right anymore because everything reminds him of Eddie.

And Steve himself is the one to blame for his misery.

   “I-“ Steve hesitates. He doesn’t want to bother her with his mess, didn’t come here to whine about things he can’t change. She didn’t come here to listen to him talk about his goddamn ex for fuck’s sake!

   “What’s wrong?” she asks and Steve knows there’s no point in trying to pretend that everything’s fine when nothing ever is. Not anymore.

   “I’m sorry for being such bad company,” Steve apologises and means it. She deserves better, could’ve gone on a date with someone worth spending her time with.

Someone actually interested in... something. Anything. Whatever it is she’s looking for.

Steve’s not it, that much is clear.

He’s not ready to move on. Maybe he never will be. Because what he had was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed to be happy. Life was good, perfect, before he ruined it all. Let the love of his life slip away because he was too afraid of the what ifs. So he pushed and he fought and he hurt the one that would’ve given him everything.

Now, Steve is just an empty shell of the man he used to be. Because the day Eddie left, he took Steve’s heart and soul with him, left him empty and broken and sad.

So fucking sad.

   “You remind me of my ex.” The words are out before he can swallow them back down.

   “Oh,” she answers, expression neutral. “Bad break-up?”

Steve nods. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to think about the day his whole life fell apart but-

   “It was my fault. He left me because I fucked it up.”

The truth still hurts, even after all those months.

   “What did you do?”

Steve and Eddie had met through a mutual friend, Dustin. It wasn’t quite love at first sight but close to it.

They quickly became friends, started hanging out on weekends, then, soon, even during the week. Spending the evenings after work at each other’s places, cooking dinner together, watching movies, talking.

Steve had never felt so drawn to another person, had never felt so comfortable in someone else’s presence. Eddie was... he was funny, kind, loud and wild. He had all these big dreams about what he wanted to do with his life. Dreams that were so very different from the small-town life Steve had always resigned himself to. Eddie wanted to travel the country, sleep under the stars, wake up next to a lake, follow the wind to wherever it would take him.

He wanted to be free.

But he stayed.

Eddie stayed because when they shared their first kiss in a weak moment of alcohol-fuelled recklessness, they ignited a fire that became too big too fast, making it impossible to smother the flames before they turned into burning desire that took a hold of them both. Scorching its way into their hearts where it settled, warm and bright, making light in every dark corner of their being.

It was the second first kiss that sealed their fate – a sober, slow, and tentative kiss in the low light of the morning sun that wiped away any worries and doubts Steve had when he woke up in Eddie’s arms after a night spent giving into their unspoken feelings as they took each other apart, not thinking about the consequences.

Knowing what it was like to wake up next to each other made it impossible to go back to simply being friends, to stay apart, to not fall in love.

Eddie and Steve were meant to be.

Together, everything felt right.

Eddie willingly put his own dreams aside for Steve who knew he could never repay him for the sacrifices he made just to be with him, tried to thank him every day by showing and telling him how much he loved him. And things were good, perfect.

Until-

   “I don’t understand,” she says quietly when Steve takes a moment to breathe away the ache in his heart and the tears threatening to spill, “that sounds like a dream come true. What happened?”

Steve smiles sadly, sighs.

   “Yeah, felt like a dream, too. But the thing with dreams is that no matter how beautiful they are, inevitably you will wake up.”

And a beautiful dream it was. Life was full of love and laughter and happy moments spent together, until Eddie proposed and Steve said No and the world tumbled down.

Because it was in that moment – with Eddie down on one knee, the simple gold ring Steve knew had belonged to Eddie’s uncle held between his thumb and finger as an offer, a promise to be his forever – that Steve realised he couldn’t do this to him. He couldn’t marry Eddie and keep him trapped in a life he never wanted just because Steve was too scared of giving up the safety of his home for a life on the road with no destination ahead and an unforeseeable future.

Steve said no to set him free but even then Eddie kept fighting for him, fucking apologised for putting ‘so much pressure’ on Steve with his question which- was insane because Eddie had done nothing wrong, ever. He had never been anything but wonderful and considerate and perfect. Steve had been the one not willing to compromise, who inadvertently put Eddie in a cage of his own making.

So he pushed and he fought and he hurt Eddie in order to give him back his freedom, thinking, believing he was doing the right thing. It was only when Eddie packed his bags and left that Steve realised he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

The moment Eddie walked out the door without looking back, Steve knew he had lost everything.

 

   “Where is he now?”

   “Hm?”

   “Eddie. Where did he go?”

   “I, uh...” Steve shouldn’t know the answer to this but he does. Because Dustin told him. Tells him whenever he gets a call or another letter from Eddie, ignoring the fact that it tears Steve apart every time. Or maybe he does it on purpose, punishing Steve for hurting his friend. And Steve lets him, never complains, always holds back his tears until he’s back in his fortress of solitude, where he can drown in his pain and sorrow.

He deserves to suffer for what he did.

   “He’s in Michigan.”

   “Huh.” She cocks her head, smiles. “It’s been what, 5 months you said? Pretty sure he could’ve gotten a lot further by now.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “For someone who’s always wanted to travel the whole damn country, he didn’t make it that far.”

   “Eddie never made plans on where he wanted to go. Maybe he found a nice place to stay for a while before he lets his heart take him somewhere else.”

   “Staying conveniently close for no reason whatsoever. Got it,” she scoffs.

Steve looks at her with pleading eyes, needs her to stop giving him ideas, can’t allow himself to let hope bloom.

   “He’s free to go wherever he wants.”

   “Maybe what Eddie really wants is for you to tell him to come home.”

Her words hit him hard like a slap across the face, ringing loudly in his ears.

   “What if- What if he doesn’t?”

   “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

 -------

   “You left me.”

It’s not meant as an accusation, sounds like one though. And Steve can see in the way Eddie furrows his brows and tightens his lips, that it wasn’t the right thing to say.

   “You told me to.” Eddie’s answer is short but calm, not filled with anger like Steve expected.

   “I wanted you to stay!”

He knows it isn’t fair because Steve did tell him to leave. What right does he have to want him back, to ask for forgiveness?

   “I didn’t want you to leave but I was scared that you’d wake up one day and realise that being with me isn’t enough. That being in love isn’t worth giving up your dreams. You shouldn’t have to give up your dreams for me! I should’ve gone with you. I love you. I-”

Steve is crying, can’t stop shaking. He’s so angry at himself, feels so powerless and stupid. And Eddie just stands there and stares at him confused like he doesn’t know that Steve would do everything for a second chance.

Just when Steve is about to give up, turns to go because if he stays here any longer, he’ll fall to his knees and make an even bigger fool of himself than he already has, two strong arms wrap around him from behind, keeping him from walking away.

   “Don’t go,” Eddie whispers into his hair, tightens his grip to emphasise his words. “Stay.”

It’s what Steve should’ve said all those months ago, when he said the opposite instead.

Slowly, Steve turns within the arms holding him until he’s facing Eddie again. Eddie, who is so close now, Steve could bring their lips together by only moving in another inch or two. Could kiss away the tears running down Eddie’s cheeks.

   “I can’t live without you, Eddie.”

   “Then let me be with you.”

Their third first kiss is an angry one, rough and desperate. Full of regrets they swallow from each other’s lips, drinking them up to make them go away. To make it better. To make it right.

   “Marry me, Steve.”

The answer comes easy this time - one word, a promise.

Forever, never apart, wherever it'll take them.

[joocomics]

tags: soft dom!gunil, fem!reader, riding, size kink | mdni

a/n: something quick & completely inspired by 🎃 anon’s ask about gunil’s line in come into my head)

Gunil always finds your occasional attempts to be on top adorable. Watching you try so hard to look tough while bossing him around is as entertaining as it is arousing too - cause he could just lift you up his shoulder and toss you on the bed without you even having the chance to yelp his name.

But the most fun part of it all is you struggling to ride him properly. It feels nice, of course, he always feels good when you’re wrapped around him, but it’s not nearly close enough to what you two are used to.

It’s not possible for you to reach his quick speed, or copy the way he thrusts against your deepest spot with those slow and sloppy bounces of yours.

But it’s fun to watch you try.

“Need my help?” Gunil asks carefully not to make you feel embarrassed. His hands caress your ankles as he stares at your eyes fully closed shut in concentration.

“No,” you shake your head. You’re out of breath, as if you’re running a marathon. Sweat drips down your neckline, while you keep swaying your hips, struggling to work with his big size all by yourself. But you won’t give up. “I can do this, I can make myself cum without you.”

“You sure?” He raises a brow at your admirable determination. He’s trying so hard not to laugh, but that’s because it’s endearing to him.

He positions his hands behind his head, gulping at the sight of your breasts. The transparent wet trail between them makes his mouth thirsty, but he’s patient enough to wait, and he’s not worrying too much about it.

“Yeah, I am,” you reply, but not long after you let out a whimper. “W-why… why do you have to be so big, Gunil?”

Your head drops down as you’re still supporting your moves by pressing onto Gunil’s lower abs. You feel the warm rush building in your core, loosely creeping up, but never quite enough.

You regret how cocky you behaved earlier, cause now you can’t give up so easily, despite knowing you should. Because it’s not going to happen - he’s too much for you. You lack the skills that you need in order to work with his big girth. You’ve also gotten too used to the feeling of his impressive ability to fuck you like he knew multiple weak points in your body which existence you have no idea about.

“I can make the feeling come much faster, baby.” Gunil states with a smirk, enjoying your needy clenching around his thick veins; the dripping of pure desperation that’s coating him.

He’s not close to cumming either, but he enjoys the show regardless.

You dismiss the idea once again by forcing your hips to move quicker only making the absence of his experienced touch even more clear.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Gunil relaxes against the cushions. “Have fun, as much as you want.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[jomamaofficial]

An Empty Vessel pt.3 (Dabi x Fem!Reader Dark Angst)

A/N: Hey guys, this is a repost. For some reason, my post wasn't getting the reach that it normally gets. I don't know, maybe it got flagged 😭😭. So I apologise for tagging you guys again. I urge you all to read the TWs and CWs because this series as a whole is just dark. As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts in the comments :).

TW: Substance abuse (alcohol, smoking), small mention of mass murder and a reunion with abusive lover.

CW: swearing.

Taglist: @marlenemckinnonsleftfoot @sukunasleftkneecap @istoleyourmanho3 @witherfag @porusuniverse @iluvoaldmen @genshinsimpforli @shadowmoonlight @simpsimpson2023 @crybab7 @kaeyastittysucker @jennieyes @an-ever-angry-bi @gyarukitti

Masterlist

Word Count: 2207.

Summary: Saira Uchiyama. His past had caught up to him in the form of a family– Touya Todoroki had no family but Dabi could not deny the existence of his. The existence of a family that had driven him to search for a name he had never even heard of. Dabi's fragile world unravelled; every single thread forced him to confront the consequences of his actions. Was it even her? The one he had beat and shut out of his life? Dabi’s mind hurt, because it finally intertwined with the realisation of the irreparable damage he had caused.

——————————————————————————————————

Dabi has had his overcoat for a long time. 

It was the first thing that was ever made for him, and only him. 

He never had to share it. 

The material was light; he could move quickly without the weight dragging him down. 

The material was heat-resistant, so he didn’t have to worry about incinerating his clothes during a fight. 

His clothes allowed him to let go. Dabi could explore the forbidden fruits of his full potential because the material allowed heat to escape– because of the fabric’s ‘enhanced breathability’ or something. He never paid attention. But it worked, so he always had it on. 

Dabi made his way up to the roof, ignoring the small cries of his name from the distance. It wasn’t on purpose though– he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. His mind had to work hard to think about nothing. Because if his conscience took over, his chest would collapse. 

There wasn’t anything left inside of him anymore. That’s what he had recited every waking day of his life as Dabi. But God, he needed a cigarette– to fill that hollow feeling inside of him. 

A few long puffs always did the trick. Although it felt best when he was on the roof, legs hanging off the ledge. 

One of his favourite hobbies was to look at the city under the glistering stars. 

Yokohama never slept. The little toy cars had small people that were always going somewhere. Their blinking red lights mirrored the sea of stars on the bumpy road. At such a distance, where cars disappeared from one end to the other, that journey seemed so mindless. Yet still, everything felt like… like it was still in place. As if everything about this world was truly intentional. 

Dabi dragged a longer puff, throwing his head back, succumbing to the gentle breeze and his thoughts. 

But in the end, you couldn’t make out any face, let alone their identity. Everything became insignificant. All that mattered was the action. 

Dabi could distinguish between a walking figure and a jogging figure. Whether they were alone or with others. 

But in the end, everything else was insignificant when he was above them all. 

So far up, that if he fell– right now– he wouldn’t come back. 

Anyone could push him off.  

“There you are!” 

Dabi grimaced. His soothing bubble had been forcefully broken, and he was dragged back to reality. He had his suspicions on who it was. 

“I thought we could use a drink or two.”

His eyes glowered at the approaching figure. He could never be left alone. But when the bottle of scotch was handed to him, the interruption wasn’t too bad after all. Dabi jerked his head towards the empty space beside him. 

He could hear careful steps approaching, then cautious shuffling beside him. 

Had he stolen a glance in his peripheral vision, he could watch the gentle breeze tease her hair, sweeping it left and right. 

He felt a chaste glance on his face. 

There was a thin, yet strong wall between them. It was thin enough to talk through– although it left no room for subtlety. It was thin enough for them to warm each other. But if they tried to cross it, they’d have to break it down, and crush the other under the weight of the wall. 

There was a lingering sense of emptiness that filled the night sky. 

Empty smiles, empty vessels. 

She drew in a breath, but no words followed, as though she had forgotten how to speak.

“Today was…” she started, only to falter off into silence, her hands rubbing at her arms. 

Dabi had his overcoat for a very long time. 

It was the first thing that was ever made for him. And only him. 

He never had to share it. 

But it felt way too heavy today. And despite the gale tightening its frosty clutch, Dabi could feel his body heating up. 

“The plan was successful”, Dabi replied flatly, “that’s all we need to care about”. 

He pushed his discarded jacket towards her. She slipped it around her shoulders.

The League’s attack on downtown Esuha was broadcasted globally, and they had finally reached the headlines of every news article. 

‘Bloodshed Strikes Downtown Esuha as Villains Unleashed Devastating Attacks’

After years of failed plans, the League of Villains had finally succeeded. 

No man, no woman, no child was left. But it was all worth it. 

Wasn’t it? 

Their plan was the highlight of every media discussion.

Dabi took a larger sip of his drink, bathing under the serene wave which washed over his inhibitions. 

And the wall between them felt thinner and weaker. 

“D’ya think your mom would ever sacrifice herself for you?” 

The vivid images of fresh blood and visceral screams haunted their mind.  

“What did that woman say again?” Dabi asked, his voice cracking, “‘take me, but please, leave my baby alone’... That’s what she said right?” 

Both of their eyes lowered. The alcohol and the little food he had consumed was kicking against his stomach lining, irritating his abdominal grafts. 

“‘She has a long life ahead of her. Please, please, don’t kill her please’”, Dabi heard a sniffle. “That’s what she said before we…”  

He felt sick. 

“That’s what we do, doll.”

He met the pain in her eyes. They were a mirror. 

Dabi clenched his jaw before looking away. 

She did too.

Dabi began biting his fingernails, and her hands fidgeted with the glass. 

And then they looked at each other again, somehow closer than they were in the beginning. 

“I don’t know if my mom would ever do that for me… But, I-hm…”

A dry chuckle followed in a feeble attempt to humour the situation. 

But Dabi finished her unspoken sentence. 

“But you would, right? For your child,” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows and squinted, trying to make out some of the writing on the tall buildings afar. 

“Any mom would do that for her child.” 

“Didn’t you just say th-”

“Any good mom would”. 

No one spoke. But they shared a knowing look, before averting them back to the vastness of Yokohama. 

“But to be honest…” She took another sip of her drink. “If I had a baby, I’d never live in Musutafu.” 

Dabi let out a snort, thus earning a playful shove in return. 

“Oh yeah? Then where would you live, fucking Minato City?”

It was her turn to snort. 

“You think I’d live in a rich neighbourhood to avoid being a target of criminals and villains?” She scoffed, slurring out her words. “I know I’m the newbie but you have to give me some credit, Dabi.”

He rolled his eyes, yet they still urged her to continue. 

She thought for a moment, her gaze wandering off into the distance, before she continued again. 

“There’s this place, just outside of here. It’s called Yosai. It’s this remote residential area. And, um. It takes around 30 minutes minimum, to find any markets, or- or any offices or clubs, and you know, all that stuff. I think, for most people, it’s like- really boring. And that’s why it’s so isolated. No one even thinks of going there because there’s literally nothing. There’s a park, and a local school– I think, but there’s no one. Nothing. There’s these houses- a lot of them! A bunch of houses with no one to live in them”. 

It was weird, to be talking, uninterrupted, for this long. 

“I guess”, she shrugged a bit, blinking a few times. “Recently, people have started building roads and stuff for cars now. So they can actually do something. But yeah. Zero reported crimes and it’s been there for a few decades. So yeah, if I had a family, I’d go there”. 

She looked intently at Dabi, who didn’t say anything. 

But he moved closer, leaning forward, sitting upright. He scanned her jittering hands before searching in his pant pocket. He raised his eyebrows at the cigarette in his hands. She nodded. So he lit it, pressed the ends to his lips and inhaled before giving it to her. 

He watched her lips touch the cigarette. Where his lips were. 

“There’s actually this property under her maiden name- my mom’s. There’s still some legal stuff I need to sort out before it actually becomes mine. It’s like this, it’s so stupid, because it’s like obviously none of us use that maiden name anymore. But because of that they can’t give it to us. I don’t even know… But I guess it’s nothing too difficult”. 

“Ah”. That was all he could say. But when he peered into her expectant eyes, there was a sudden need to elaborate. Anything better than ‘ah’ at least.

Dabi felt dizzy. 

“Umm… What's your mom’s maiden name?” 

When his delayed voice finally caught up to him, Dabi winced.

“Fuck”, he muttered. It was a stupid question, but he wanted to make sure that she knew he was listening. 

“It’s Uchiyama.” 

They were closer, breaths intertwining with each other under the watchful eye of the moon. 

-

There weren’t any buses that travelled from Musutafu to Yosai. Dabi made his journey by foot. 

Thus, during this four day journey, Dabi became well acquainted with people.

And he noticed that a lot of people in Japan had blue eyes. After the emergence of quirks, blue became a common colour for many. The truly rare ones were pink, or purple now.  

But Dabi’s eyes… they were different. 

His eyes. 

They were handpicked from the colours in the cerulean depths of the stormy sea. Whispers of secrets remained untold– that’s why no one could have the eyes that he had. 

Never. 

They were gleaming– echoing the beauty of the lights in the North. Depending on how you looked at them, they were teal, or sapphire. One thing was indisputable– the arctic chill they’d give when he’d pierce into your soul was breathtaking. 

His eyes. 

They were simply breath-taking. 

So when he towered over a small frame, gaze lowered, he could not explain the way his heart forgot to beat when he stared into a perfect replica of his eyes. 

With each beat, lost time unfolded in front of him. 

And he noticed the slight difference in the silent expanse that he had gazed into. 

There was an innocent reflection of the North Star twinkling in their genuine, rolling waves. Dabi’s eyes were an abandoned lighthouse. 

But, what alarmed him the most, was when those flawless replications turned frozen. Dark. 

Petrified. 

Dabi's heart ached as those eyes formed fog and mist, obstructing him from reaching the truth that was hidden beyond the plane of sight. 

His knees surrendered under the accumulating guilt of his past. And so his tears fell, trying to escape the grief and strain his weak body had repressed for so long. 

“Honey, are you okay? Who’s at the door?”

Icy tendrils spiked through him, and his breath was captured without a fight. In the wake of realisation, his body signalled all the alarms they could, telling him– no, begging him to run, but, his blood had turned to ice, and he succumbed in the paralysing grip of his inevitable fate. 

“Sana, are you okay…” 

He heard the voice taper away, followed by a sharp clink of a metal spoon. His laden head fixed itself downwards in shame, guilt, fear…  

“Dabi…?” Those words drifted out in a hushed tone. As if they were trying to protect the young girl, who now hid behind her mother. 

He braced himself for the hardest task he would ever have to face.

And in that split second, his breath had returned, and he let out a short exhale when he finally saw that face materialise from his past. 

Y/N. 

It was you. Saira Uchiyama. 

After 6 years, 8 months, and 19 days of navigating through the circular journey of denial, anger, bargaining, and depression, Dabi finally had the chance to reach the beacon of acceptance. 

His shoulders slumped, as short breaths hiccuped through the dark caverns of his chest. 

He had finally found you. 

And he had finally found the end to his coveted quench, which yearned for a solace, only to be found in your longing embrace. 

Softly, a bewildered whisper escaped his lips, barely denting the silence around them.

“Doll…?” 

Dabi watched as the maturer skin scrunched together, deep lines frowned at him. As the tenderness in your heart had to be locked away inside an untouchable crevice in your body. 

You pushed your daughter behind you, blocking Dabi’s protesting hands before they touched her.

“Sweetie, I need you to go upstairs okay”, you ordered sternly. 

“Mommy, he’s scaring m-” 

“Sana. You need to go upstairs. Lock the door and close your windows.” 

Sana.  

Her name was a painful reminder of the blank pages he had failed to fill as her father. How could he have written anything? 

He didn’t even know what the title was. 

“Never fucking come near my family again”. 

Those blank pages began to rip. 

“You disgusting freak”. 

The blank pages had burned to ashes, and Dabi was left outside on the suburban patio of a perfect neighbourhood. 

Maybe, if he found a place to wash his face, he could blend in with the garbage. 

[stomach-bugg09]

heyyy, could you maybe write a fic with the entire sully family x reader, where she is part of the metkayina clan, and after they get to stay she has to introduce the family to everything (instead of tsireya and aonung). They get closer and she’s a good friend to them.

She is very sweet, loves children and treats tuk like her own (this is a key element hihi)

So one day, after she goes out with tuk to entertain her, they get attacked by someone you can decide (I’m sorry but I need something angsty😭) and reader protects tuk and saves her life.

But, and here comes the “plot twist”, the sully’s misunderstand the situation and think reader did it on purpose or was trying to hurt tuk and they’re all angry and furious at her, not letting her explain.

So she retreats and doesn’t leave her marui pod for days, until someone from the clan clears it up, and they apologise to her… YOU CAN DECIDE THE ENDING, WETHER ITS HAPPY OR SAD!!!!

Thank u in advance and I have to say, I absolutely love your writing, every time I finish one of ur fics I crave moreeeee!!!❤️

summary: [y/n] saves the life of tuk, but at what cost?

a/n: hopefully this turned out good !! i’m kind of bad when it comes to misunderstanding trope because i kind of hate it ( whoopsies ) but i think it turned out okay ?? i’m just glad i finally was able to publish something after a few days. reblogs + feedback are always appreciated !!

tags: @rafeslovergirl@wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @itssiaaax @grierpilots @fleurbeass @nyotamalfoy @23victoria

warnings: mentions of blood, injury, fear, a monster-like creature pursuing tuk and [y/n], jake and neytiri being kind of mean, scars, almost dying, passing out, a lil angst, happyish ending

words: 2.4k

i would do it again

she hadn’t meant for it to go the way that it did. everytime she replayed the scene in her head, tears pricked [y/n]’s eyes. what could’ve happened—what should’ve happened. she continued to thank eywa that both her and tuk made it out alive and safe.

it’d been that morning when the youngest sully bounded up to [y/n] in the middle of her chores. “[y/n]!” she cried, joy evident in her voice.

[y/n] could not help but grin, looking up from the net that she was busy detangling. “good morning, darling tuk!”

the sully family had been in awa’atlu for several months at that point, but [y/n] had been friends with them since they first arrived. [y/n] was a former warrior of the clan, despite how young she was. she was only twenty years old, but after a former event resulting in a very severe injury, [y/n] was quickly deferred to a safer alternative that still allowed her to help her clan.

after the incident, [y/n] found herself working with the children. it was her job to begin teaching them the ways of the water, which included breathing, swimming, and free-diving. when they got to the age of learning to hunt, they were passed along to another teacher.

that was how [y/n] first met the sullys.

after tsireya and ao’nung toured the village with them, the future tsahik introduced them to [y/n]. “she will be helping us teach you our ways.”

and so she did. although her schedule was far too busy to always attend the lessons, [y/n] was there as much as she possibly could, rewarding each and every child on their progress.

[y/n] was also introduced to neytiri and jake sully by tonowari. the ole’eyktan was quick to tell them of her honorable history, especially regarding the injury. [y/n] didn’t miss the way the toruk makto’s sympathetic eyes flickered to the large scar that still burdened her up and down her right leg. but, for the first time in a long time, his careful stare did not cause her insecurity. instead, it made her feel safe, especially as she limped up and down the beach.

it did not take long for the sully family to entrust [y/n]. she was kind, caring, and she was always there to help them. a part of [y/n] drifted to the sully family once neytiri began treating her as if she was one of their own, often inviting her over for dinner.

for the first time in years, ever since the deaths of her parents, [y/n] felt like she had a true family again.

so, given their history, [y/n] was not at all shocked at the arrival of tuk on that sunny morning.

“[y/n]!” she yelled once again, stopping in front of the metkayina girl. “oh my eywa, [y/n],” tuk panted, hands clasping her knees as she caught her breath.

“oh, my!” [y/n] laughed, smiling up from where she sat on the dock. “what is the matter, dear?”

“it is so nice out today!”

[y/n] chuckled at that. “oh, isn’t it?” leave it to tuk to cause a panic only for her to exclaim that the weather was good.

“we should go out,” tuk decided, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she gave [y/n] a look.

[y/n] only raised the muscles above her eyes. “you think so?”

tuk nodded vigorously. “yes, i do! kiri is busy with mother, lo’ak wants nothing to do with me, and neteyam refuses to take me out ever.” once she finished her short rant, she stuck out her bottom lip and widened her eyes. “please, [y/n]?”

“tuk,” [y/n] groaned, covering her eyes with her hands. “that’s unfair. you’re too adorable to refuse!”

tuk grinned pridefully. “i know, isn’t it awesome?”

just like that, the two soon found themselves sharing a ride on an ilu through the reef. [y/n] smiled at the way tuk’s arms flew outwards, allowing her to reach out and feel the tingling sensation as they passed through the thick waters.

the coral was gorgeous that morning thanks to the rays of sunlight that beamed through the surface, lighting up the seafloor. “look,” [y/n] signed to tuk, pointing out a crab that waddled across the ground.

a chuckle left the sully’s lips as indicated by the small trail of bubbles that floated above them. [y/n] grinned at the way tuk raised her hand, waving at the small creature that strolled across the ocean floor.

of course, it could only stay perfect for so long, and unfortunately, the perfection did not last long enough.

[y/n] immediately felt something was wrong when the water turned the slightest bit colder. although the sully girl did not notice, the chills rising on [y/n]’s arms sent her panicking. when her ilu rumbled in dismay beneath them, she knew they needed to turn around.

“it is time to go back,” [y/n] signed quickly, the annoyance being difficult to ignore from behind her. before tuk could sign anything back, the older girl rose her hand and gestured for her to stay quiet.

just as she directed the ilu to turn around, [y/n] noticed how quiet it was. for once in her life, [y/n] could hear nothing. it was just them and the ocean.

the fish were gone, fleeing into their homes. the crab on the ground was quickly sheltered by his hole in the sand. not even the water swayed all that much. a chill settled deep in [y/n]’s bones.

she panicked at the feeling of tuk’s arms wrapping around her waist, the sully’s small face pressed into her back. it was when she felt tuk’s hand hit her that she was prompted to look up from where she observed the quiet reef.

[y/n] nearly choked on the salty water when the sight of large animal. it loomed overtop of them, a shadow cast on top of them from his mere size. it’s flippers were large, but not nearly as large as his teeth were.

although it was only split seconds, it felt like a billion years until either of them made their first move.

when the creature attempted to close the distance between them, [y/n] sent the ilu flying beneath the beast. she swallowed a yelp at the feeling of the water by her ear, his mouth nearly having chomped it off had they not moved so fast.

unfortunately, the monster was as smart as it was quick, and it was soon adjusting. with one last look over her shoulder, [y/n] sent the ilu shooting forward.

tuk’s arms clasped [y/n] desperately, her eyes hidden from reality due to the fear it brought. at that, [y/n] urged the creature they rode on to swim even faster.

as much as the ilu tried, it was nothing compared to the fins that carried the monster behind them. once [y/n] felt it catching up, the only thing she could think to do was unattached her queue from the ilu and grab tuk. as they rolled off the side, [y/n] choked back a scream at the sight of her ilu being swallowed by the beast in one quick gulp.

blood blossomed in the water. tuk stared aimlessly, her cries not going unheard. [y/n] grabbed her face, pressing a hand overtop her mouth. not only could the beast hear, but tuk was losing breath.

“hush, darling,” she signed, eyes attentive to their surroundings. “you must be quiet. it will all be okay, do you understand?” tuk only nodded.

they hid behind a large rock-like structure, and [y/n] carefully peeked out to catch an understanding of where they stood versus the beast. she instantly rolled back around, back pressed against the textured piece of nature. he was close. dangerously so.

and so, [y/n] began to hatch a plan. as she would swim out, tuk would start swimming towards the surface. [y/n] was a trained warrior and swimmer, she could outswim the monster if she used the coral to her advantage. tuk just had to get back to civilization.

just as she turned to tell tuk of her plan, it appeared that it was far too late. she only whimpered once she felt the cold temperatures of the shade once again.

[y/n] grabbed tuk’s hand, praying to eywa that tuk would stay strong and stay smart. at least one of them needed to make it out alive, and it had to be tuk.

with one last squeeze of her hand, [y/n] stood up and locked eyes with the creature. behind her back, her fingers moved gracefully to communicate to tuk.

once she was done, she brought her hands above her head, making herself seem bigger as a small attempt, although it was more of a signal to tuk. with her arms up, tuk launched herself out and up, and the beast launched itself directly at [y/n].

she dodged almost perfectly if it weren’t for the spikes that took over his skin. she hissed as her skin caught one of the thorns, flesh tearing quickly.

[y/n]’s plan was, unfortunately, not at all fool-proof. dread settled in her gut as the beast’s eyes broke away from her and instead watched the distance thanks to the sight of a swimming na’vi.

“no!” she tried to scream, although the words came out extremely muffled because of the quick water.

and so, she let every primal instinct she ever had take over.

[y/n]’d never swam so fast in her life. she let the water take over, let eywa bless her and her senses. for the first time in a couple years, she could not feel the injury of her leg. it was just her and the sea.

her eyes did not leave tuk once, not even when the swam side-by-side with the monster. not even when he nearly ate her. she was far too quick for him.

they were throat-to-throat, and yet, at the last second, [y/n] sped ahead of the beast and launched herself on top of tuk. she cradled the girl as the water seemed to burst in every direction.

and then she blacked out.

when [y/n] awoke, she found herself in the comforts of her own home. the sun blinked through the marui, a feeling that caused [y/n] to smile.

that smile was quickly gone once she remembered exactly what happened before she’d passed out.

when [y/n] shot up, tsireya was quick to attend her side. “[y/n]!” she calmed, voice quiet and gentle. “[y/n], it is okay. you are okay! you are safe.”

[y/n] couldn’t even form full sentences. “tuk.”

“tuk is alive and well. she’s been awake for an hour or so, waiting for you.” tsireya’s smile faded. “but.. the sullys are keeping her from visiting.

[y/n]’s eyes narrowed at the news, confusion clouding her head. “what? why?”

“they think you did it.”

days go by, and [y/n] was quiet. quieter than she has been in years, ever since her injury. ever since her parents death. the guilt was nearly the same, nearly just as heart-wrenching.

they did not trust her. they thought she would hurt tuk. the mere thought of it sent [y/n] spiralling.

the olo’eyktan’s family tried to visit her often, but she was cut off. even when they did somehow make it inside, she was dry, often not even answering them. it was as if she pretended they didn’t exist.

[y/n] didn’t look so good either. she was leaving her own health as the last of her priorities, as if they didn’t matter compared to the fact that they didn’t trust her.

it was only thanks to the trustful word of tsireya that the sullys finally had clear enough minds to come and visit.

it was a quiet night, the only sound heard being the crash of the waves against the shore. [y/n] was busy poking at the food ao’nung delivered just moments before. she couldn’t find an appetite to even attempt eating the food, despite what she promised him.

at the sound of two bodies walking into her pod, she jumped onto her feet. ever since the incident, she was on extremely high alert. even when she slept at night, all she saw were the jaws of that monster… and then the way that the sea exploded around her.

time froze when she saw the guilty faces of jake and neytiri.

“[y/n],” jake’s voice was quiet, broken. almost as bad as she felt. “[y/n], we are so sorry.”

[y/n] only blinked. “why?” she swallowed, putting her food down behind her before taking a step towards the couple. “why in the world should you be sorry? it was only like i risked my life for your daughter and you didn’t even have the kindness to come and talk to me.” she shook her head. “i had to hear it from tsireya that you hated me. you didn’t give me a chance.”

neytiri sniffled, eyes full of guilty tears. “we understand. and that is why we are here.” she attempts to step towards [y/n], but retracts when she feels the younger girl tense. with a quick sigh, she continues. “we were worried. worried about our baby. all we knew is that you washed up together, and tuk was hurt because of something out on the reef. you were the only one with her. and we just… we thought, since you knew the reef so well, there was no way you could have run into such trouble.”

[y/n] paused before shaking her head. “i don’t know what that monster was,” she whispered. “i have never seen such a ghastly thing in my life.”

jake nods. “we know. we know that now, and we should have never doubted you. for that, we are so extremely sorry, and we are so extremely thankful that you kept tuk alive.”

[y/n] paused. after the years she spent grappling for approval from everybody on the island, after gaining it through risking her life, this was the first time that she truly felt fulfillment.

when tears welled up in her eyes, she allowed the parents to hug her. at the warmth of their arms around her trembling body, she whispered, “i would do it again.”