#i mean who knows maybe it was once a rabbit

[confines]

growing up i was incapable of listening to audiobooks or podcasts and apparently this was because we hadn't invented noise cancelling headphones yet. but now we have so i guess i can! 🥰 yippee!!

[spurbleu]

fussy. simon riley.

simon who is terrified of fatherhood and the child he cannot stop holding. a little over 1k words about simon accepting paternal love. gross fluff.

Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing.

The hospital room filters the bruise of early morning through windowpanes that looked cleaner before the rain. Silver linings sparkle around cloud rims when thunder collapses between them. Aside from the yellow bedside lamp, and the sheet of light that flattens from under the door, the world is still dark.

The clock is one of two sounds. The other is your snoring.

You swelter under thin cotton. Rashes of red labor cling to the skin visible from where Simon guards. Hair mussed and barely contained in the complimentary hair ties from the nurses. Sleeping, sure- but still raw. Nearly burned alive, by what Simon can only assume was his own selfishness.

Despite all of this, it’s the first time you've looked at peace within the last 3 months. Beautiful- a word that grows low on trees, but Simon finds himself unable to reach much farther. Exhaustion taunts his mind and paralyzes the arm he usually holds you with.

But the bundle flinches, and he is once again wide awake.

Made from China glass. Painted in pink and tulip pollen. She’s got your nose, curving into small nostrils that breathe amateurly. Cheeks that swallow the crease of her lips and eyes that have not yet opened.

Simon is terrified that when they do, they’ll be his.

He is built from barnacles and the bottom bricks of a lighthouse. Iron that’s been fed to a kiln a dozen times until its edges sport burnt, flaking edges. Salt strung upon a wire until the saline coats his teeth when he speaks.

He probably looks ridiculous, holding a newborn. Even if she’s his.

Because nothing about him is soft, or new. He is decades beyond cradles, velvet rabbits and the grass that will undoubtedly grow when she takes her first steps. He is what happens to a man when you feed him hours not made by God. He is old and mean and none of that belongs to a baby.

But he pulls her from the incubator anyway, maybe with the hopes of proving himself wrong.

She stirs before settling between the crook of his elbow. A small thing, hair like thin field callows over her head, thumbs the size of mouse ears. Barely a beginning, despite it feeling like ages ago since you revealed the pregnancy. Hardly possible, to be looking at almost a year of his life, only for her to be as fresh as the morning and blissfully unaware of who she is. Who her father is.

And God, she’s warm. Practically burning him. Warm enough to ignite the ugly fire in his chest that he’s spent the more active, awake years of his life keeping at bay. A desperate creature that drools when softness offers itself to him. Bone marrow to a set of canines.

Told himself he’d only indulge it once- his marriage. To the bread dough and the goodnight kisses and the fresh clay that you envelop him with. The arms that wait for him. Something he really wasn’t made for. But something you fit him in anyway. Put your two hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye and told him,

“I want you and everything that comes with it.”

If that’s not a confession of love, damn the fairytales he’ll raise his daughter on. Knows shit about what it means to give and expect little. To take knowing you don’t deserve it.

Thunder blossoms outside, and the baby jolts. Her face scrunches, and Simon stiffens at what he knows will follow.

He’s never really been…fond of children. Too fussy, too loud, too flushed in the face. All delicate rounds, emotions nonsensical and unpredictable. Manifestation of a love he hadn’t understood. Not when comrades talked about it, not when Price had, not even, admittedly, when you had.

Held a peculiar, unviolent anger towards them. An ugly disquiet that had him convinced for years that children were his anthesis. The North of his South.

All of this dissipates when she starts crying.

Bounces her gently and pulls her closer against his chest. Swears quietly when she worsens, the poor, pathetic, toothless mouth opening wider to choke on her own sobs.

“I know, I know…” He shakes his head, “’don’t like the rain, either.”

She doesn’t stop, but neither does Simon. Guess she inherited his stubbornness, too.

“C’mon now…Is’alright I gotcha. Can’t get you from inside,” leans his head back when the cry rattles his teeth, “Just loud-shit…just loud…”

Re-adjusts her in his arms, and she chokes again, before her crying becomes a long, drawn-out thrum. Waters his ears until he’s looking over at you, praying you'll stay asleep and that his daughter will begin to like him.

Won’t blame her, if she doesn’t. Looking like the personification of danger probably doesn’t convince her he’ll protect her from it. He didn’t realize how quickly he was going to have to learn to be gentle. Kind.

She wails again, and he sighs, accepting defeat. Letting the exhaustion drown him before being pulled from the waters by her shaking, fat fingers. But Simon is void of the anger that attaches itself to interrupted peace. He couldn’t fathom looking at the swaddled thumbprint in his arms and feeling anything but immense…gravity.

A pull. The moon to the waves, waves to the shore, shore to the land he built his house on and will bring her home too. Not anger, not grief, not even joy. It was-

“Mm…love…” Simon’s head snaps up, and stares to where you have rolled over, eyes blinking away tear crust, “Is’at you?”

“I’m ‘ere darl,” a baby cry, “’m sorry I couldn’t get ‘er to…she won’t…”

“Si…” you reach out your hand and beckon him closer. He stands slowly, making sure not to stir the baby more than she has been, and starts to hand her back to you. But you shake your head, hand out to stop him. “Sit down.”

He blinks, before taking a seat next to the hospital cot. His jaw reaches the head bar, and he leans up against the beside table with the weeping child. You mumble something unintelligible, voice and body still plagued by sleep, before reaching over the mattress and stroking the top of the baby’s head. She still cries, and Simon sends you a desperate look.

Your hand travels down, before settling your palm over the baby’s chest. Make slow, small circles, and begins humming like you would when you bake, or when you read. Tiny normalcies amongst chaos.

And it’s a miracle. She stops crying. Hiccups a few times, fades into sniffles, and eventually a dove coo. Hands rest over yours, barely twice the size of your knuckles. Simon doesn’t take his eyes off his daughter.

“You did it.”

“We did it,” you correct, “You’re the one holding her.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t working before.” Still staring, watching for a crack, a fissure in this carefully crafted peace. It doesn’t come.

“’Cus you were doing it alone, Si,” You look at him, really look at him, and Simon feels young again for the first time since exchanging vows, “She needs the both of us. Should’ve seen her when it was just me ‘n her.” Laugh to yourself, before yawning.

Simon nods, even though he doesn’t understand. It feels like he won’t for a long time. Maybe he never will. But staring at his daughter, all flushed in the face and fussy and loud, he feels like trying.

“’gonna be alright, Simon.”

He looks up, mouth twitching into a dry smile, “Me or her?”

You reach across with your other hand and stroke under his cheek. “Us.”

And at least for this moment, Simon will let himself believe it.

[porcalinecunt]

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇!

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ how aot men would treat their himbo incubus! ~

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍, 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈, 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑

cw — ftm!reader. lots of rough sex. dumbification. overstimulation. breeding to the max. size kink. spanking. masochism(?) oral sex. throat fucking. cumshot. multiple orgasms.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : i made this while violently down horrendous for aot men jfc i was possessed anyways! this will be my last post as im going on a trip soon, so enjoy! 🎀

₊˚ෆ 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

to be blunt, eren can be a bit of a meanie! after all, you came at such a poor time. the man was too busy jerking off to whatever porn he found, desperately trying to get himself off when you came and ruined his orgasm. as if you weren’t enough of a nuisance, you proceeded to act dumb in front of an annoyed and furiously horny eren. you’re sweet babbling came to a rude halt once the brunette grabbed you by the waist and threw you onto your stomach while you faced the end of the bed. you couldn’t get a word in before you felt something pry at your soaked pussy, turning your head to see your mortal host push himself inside of you and violently snapping his hips against yours. it was only the beginning of his frustrated tirade on your poor cunt, maybe you should’ve shut your mouth or be a little more considerate of your hosts!

“h-hah..eren! g-gentle!—“ you whined like a bitch in heat, only to be met with another harsh smack on your bare ass that was littered in eren’s handprints. you couldn’t help but look back through puffy, wet eyes at the mortal who was fucking you with such ferocity. a green eyed glare made you turn away in embarrassment, before a hand forced you to face him again. god, the way he looked at you could easily rival every man you stole an orgasm from. “e-eren..” you moaned, earning you a hard snap from his hips as he leaned closer to you. the smell of cigarettes still lingered around him.

“who’s fault is it that you got yourself in this mess? hm? not me. now shut up and take my cock like a good little incubus..”

₊˚ෆ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍

secretly (not really tho), jean adores your naivety. even more so knowing exactly what you are, i mean, how can a literal sex demon be so stupid? a question he’ll never get answers to, but why matter? not when you finally find him in a state of carnal desire. jean will never forget your cute dumb face once you saw his hard cock out in full fuckin’ glory. he was huge, so huge, you struggled to take in his girth. pathetic kitty licks ‘n kisses on his leaking tip to helplessly grinding on his length, it only turned him on even more. enough to where you already completed your task, and yet here you were, continuously pumped full of his cum inside your ruined cunt. the best part? jean wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon, not until you stop making that stupid fucked out face that only gets him hard all over again!

seven rounds later and he still was nowhere near done. your incubus mark that rested on your womb glowed furiously in a hot pink shade, signifying your pleasure and satisfaction with your host. jean knew damn well of this, but continued to fuck you cum filled cunt as a pace only a rabbit could possibly do. “jean..! i-i can’tttt! too much! ah!” you babbled through drool soaked lips, only to be silenced by a sloppy kiss from him. he couldn’t even kiss you properly while being pussydrunk beyond oblivion. lifting you head, you watched in awe at the sight of jean stuffing your pussy full of cock, a small bump in your womb from how many times he creampied you.

“stay with me baby, i know you can take another one in you..you’re doing such a good job f’me love. shit..!”

₊˚ෆ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

the short and sweet of this man is how little he takes your bullshit. trying to get a good night sleep was difficult enough with your constant whining for attention. you were waiting for a chance to get your cunt pounded by the mortal, only to see him trying to go to sleep instead. however, your efforts weren’t in vain, as levi shot up and yanked you over his lap. you could feel his dick growing harder and harder in his pants as he tore off your flimsy thong that barely covered shit. a calloused hand came down on your bare ass, a sharp smack! startled you as your body jolted forwards only to be pulled back roughly by levi. hit after hit, the pain became an intoxicating pleasure as your cunt soaked itself in arousal, your painfully swollen clit begging to be touched. unfortunately, levi wasn’t the easiest to falter.

smack! a yelp tore out of your sore throat followed by a weak whine, the stinging pain slowly numbing your ass before you were forced back down to earth by another harsh strike. “no..no more..! hurts t-too mu—“ SMACK! another strike startled you from your rambling, almost falling off of levi’s lap where he pulled you up roughly by the tail and secured you tightly. you didn’t have to look at him to know how fed up he was with you antics, or how aroused he was. you wanted so badly for him to just have his way with you, spitting you open and bruising your insides. a tinge of regret only grew bigger as his painfully obvious boner poked at your thigh. fuck, he was hung down there, if only you just behaved yourself!

“what’s the matter? quit squirming like a brat and sit the fuck still. you asked for this.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐍

did you piss of this literal giant on purpose? maybe, and what’s wrong with that? infiltrating a wet dream of him getting sucked off by some rando he found hot, fusing reality with fantasy until it abruptly ended before he could cum. you couldn’t help but giggle at poor reiner, well, until he forced you onto your knees and finished the damn job himself. it didn’t matter how many cocks you’ve swallowed, you struggled to take reiner’s full length as he mercilessly fucked your throat inch by inch until your nose was touching his pubic hairs. the stretch of his girth had your throat and mouth stuffed full until you couldn’t utter a word out. don’t think he’ll stop there either! the moment his dick twitches, he’ll pull out and cum all over that pretty face of yours. such an erotic sight gets him hard all over again, only this time, he’ll breed your throat full.

“atta boy. putting that mouth to good fucking use after that stunt you pulled..don’t worry, i’m not even close to done.”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[stxrrkissed]

── ۶ৎ POSSESSIVE .ᐟ

꣑ꦌ rodrick heffley x fem!reader ৴ LENGTH 615

DESCRIPTION you get mad after seeing all the girls flirting with rodrick after a show.

CONTENT jealousy ꣑ mention of arguing ꣑ p in v ꣑ some dirty talk ꣑ spanking ꣑ creampie ꣑ aftercare mentioned.

THOUGHTS another addition posted from my kinktober event that i didn't get to finish. i definitely need to write more for roddy (esp fluff), probably my fave to write at the moment.

𝒾. mlist 𝒾𝒾. previous fic 𝒾𝒾𝒾. prompts 𝒾𝓋. based on this ask

SOFT MOANS LEAVES YOUR TREMBLING LIPS AS Rodrick’s hips meets the swell of your ass, with his hand holding your right arm as he fucks you into the mattress beneath. It’s a perfect view, you have the perfect arch while your ass is on display as he drills in and out of your sopping cunt. Ever so often landing a hard smack on your ass, loving how much your pussy tightens around his cock in reaction. 

A flood of pressure flows through your body as his thrusts become stronger. Making you forget about the argument you had with him earlier. Whenever you and him have an argument, it always ends with the two of you going at it like bunny rabbits. 

Maybe it's the adrenaline of the argument that gets you turned on to the point, you want to undress him, maybe it’s whenever he raises his voice, asserting his dominance that gets you to clench your thighs together, causing friction to your aching core.

You didn’t know what it was, but who were you to stop it? 

You had just come from one of Rodrick’s gigs, you always sat in the front row so you could have a good view of your handsome man on the stage.

The show was good, you had fun until you walked backstage, catching a glimpse of some girls flirting with Rodrick, one even daring to have your hand on his arm, while he signed one of the other girls' breasts. You were used to girls flirting with Rodrick even when you were standing right next to him. 

It’s not like Rodrick would entertain any of these girls' actions and actually cheat on you but it’s the principle of not wanting to see the one you love with other girls especially if one has her hand touching him. 

Rodrick could tell something was wrong with you as you were silent the whole car ride home, not entertaining any of the conversations he brought up. You knew how much he was excited about the show as you were excited for him too, big gigs like that could get him places but the mere images of those girls just keep coming to the front of your mind. Those girls weren't the only one you were mad at, you were mad at him. 

You get that his fans mean a lot to him but he shouldn’t have been allowing them to get that close to him. The more you think about it, the more anger builds up inside of you. Once walking into the door of your shared apartment, Rodrick on your tail asking you what’s wrong and just like that, you broke and let out all the anger you’re holding in. 

That’s how you got in this position, regretting some of the words you said but enjoying the pleasure he was continuously giving to you. “Ahhh, Roddy… I’m going to cum…”

“Yeah that’s right, come all over my cock,” he demands, sending another strike to your ass. “You should know that you’re the only one I want. You know this cock belongs to you and no one can take it from you.” His reassurance is the key for the coil in your stomach to snap as your body spasms around him, your cum painting on his lower torso as some drips down your legs.

“There you go,” he coos as he continues to rut in and out of you until he flushes against your ass, emptying his load deep inside of you, his groans filling your ears as your body fully gives out slumping to the bed and he lets out a low chuckle.

“Rest baby while I clean you up.”

COMMENTS (if you want to be tagged in doawk fics, click here) @cherriespopsicle, @rain-likes-purple, @lover-of-books-and-tea, @coconut-pearl.

thank you for reading! © stxrrkissed 2025. all rights reserved — do not claim, copy, repost or translate.

[buckiverse]

hiiii, im callista, the one who actually made the CAWK ANALYSIS DIAGRAM, and im begging you to talk about xav and raf too so i can add them to our very important research <3

☆ warnings: mdni, a cock analysis for rafayel (including lemurian form) and xavier

☆ a/n: when i saw your post on twitter I was so shocked >< (in a let me pick up a mf pen and paper type of way) but, when I started cooking this one I did in fact realize I am a monster fucker when it involves rafayel (and sylus too who am I kidding fr), so I am looking forward to the updated research hehehe

sylus, caleb, and zayne ver.

R6.76GGPV - #dc9ca2

Rafayel’s physique is striking. He’s tall, with a lean, wiry frame that speaks to his grace and agility. Don’t be fooled by his size—this man is one with the water. His strength is deceptive, fluid, and undeniable. And, let’s be real: he’s lean, he’s sculpted, and damn, he looks incredible. His stamina is off the charts—of course, he’s a God of the sea. Hello?

Now, let’s get to the real topic at hand: his cock. It’s not the biggest—6.76 (17.1704 cm) inches, rounded to the nearest decimal—but Rafayel is a grower, okay. And what he has is a masterpiece. Gorgeous. I mean gorgeous. The kind of cock that makes you want to worship him, offering yourself up at his altar. There’s a bit of girth to it, too, and trust me, it’s a blessing in itself.

The head? Perfectly shaped, a stunning, pretty pink—honestly, it could be my new favorite lipstick shade. As for his pubic hair? None. Nada. Rafayel is smooth, clean, and pristine. (or he has designs because, yes the fuck he would) But here’s the thing: he doesn’t care what you do with yours. Whatever you’re working with, it’ll drive him wild.

Oh, and the veins. He doesn’t have many, but each one is perfectly placed like his cock was crafted by the gods themselves (maybe because he is one). No more than three, all connecting at various places on his shaft, and if you trace your fingers on it—even if it's a feather-light touch, his cock will jump. It’s almost too pretty—like a work of art you can’t stop staring at.

☆

Now, let’s talk about Rafayel as the Lemurian. His cock in this form? Thick. Fat. Gloriously imposing. At a solid nine inches (22.86 cm), it’s crowned with a knot at the base that’s thick and impossibly enticing. And his shaft is covered in soft, smooth scales—silky to the touch, like oiled skin or delicate petals. That knot? It’s primal, and when he’s overcome by the need to breed, it’s game over. Once he’s inside, don’t even think about running. You’re his, and he’s not letting you go until he’s filled you with his little sea heirs.

Oh, and just imagine him murmuring in that low, teasing voice: “Isn’t this what you wanted, pretty girl?” And you know his eyes are dark and overcome with need.

The scales don’t stop at his cock, either. They trail up his sides, climbing his torso, adding a texture that’s as sensitive as it is otherworldly. When you run your hands over him, he’s electrified, almost trembling with the intensity of sensation. And his cock? Hyper-sensitive. In this form, he’s consumed by the urge to breed, to claim you completely.

Careful what you wish for—because when Rafayel takes you, there’s no turning back.

X6.5GGPT - #c97677

As we all know, Xavier’s figure is quite shrouded in clothes. But truly—his figure is imposing. He’s tall, surprisingly muscular, it’s easy to forget this man is a trained (experienced) hunter. Of course he’s in good shape—it’s impossible for him not to be. He needs to be agile and perceptive—just like how he fucks by the way (like a jack rabbit).

So, his cock. Well, it's pretty—too pretty. A solid six and a half inches (16.51 cm), and yes, he’s a grower. Like I said, his clothes hide everything. And it’s thick, too thick for his own good—Xavier has a habit of reveling in your reaction to it—everytime. When he pulls his pants down and he watches your eyes grow big, your pupils dilate, he can see the wheels turning in your head. 

The head is like a mushroom and is so pretty pink, it has a beautiful red tint to it. So thick and it stretches you out everytime, and the tears pooling in your eyes get him going, he might say something like “You’re everything—do you know that? Everything.” Oh gosh and he keeps the hair low and trimmed or he’s bald—a perk of aging slowly is that everything grows slowly too.

And did i mention—he can make it glow. The craziest thing about him is that he's a come machine. He has this innate ability to pump endless amounts of come into you—he needs too. He has too much stamina and can go forever.

He’s literally fucking insatiable, once he has a taste of you. 

☆

R6.76GGPV: rafayel-6.76inch-girthy-grower-pink-veiny

X6.5GGPT: xavier-6.5inch-grithy-grower-pink-trimed

[phantasm-ae]

Okay but like… i saw this pic around my fyp and I can’t help but imagine getting Ghost a bunny solely because it looks like him JSJSJSKSKSJSJSK

Anyways, heres a drabble on that

cw: suggestive smut, p in v, afab readerxghost, oral (f receiving), slight fluff

Headcanon: getting fwb Ghost a bunny that looks like him

Pairing: Ghostxreader

something something giving Simon a bunny because it looks like him.

Not planned. Not scheduled. But honestly, when is it ever with him anyway?

You'd just gone out for groceries. That was the plan. Grab milk, maybe eggs, more of that tea he practically scarfed down when he took over the place. God he just went through your fridge didn't he?

But you can't really get mad can you? Insufferable bastard that he was. Worming his way through your own life without permission.

Without favor.

No pursuit.

No accommodations just forced entry.

And now. Apparently. Into your arms in the form of one very large -- Jesus look at the size of that thing! -- and very pissed off rabbit. Heavy too. Solid. All hulk and muscle in a way that rabbits really shouldn't be. Like a furry little brick of war crimes and unresolved trauma. Yep. That's Simon.

You're 90% sure he even growled at the shelter worker when they tried to put him back in his carrier. The weighty plastic mauled and gnawed on. Too tiny. Too small. Too kind to accommodate a creature like that. Yep. That's Simon

"you sure you want him lass? Got kittens in here and puppies if you want", the shelter worker had said. Looking at you concerned and weary. Probably worried that you were in and out of your knocker with this one. Toeing the line between worry and are you mentally stable enough for this?

But you were already shoving bits of cash across the counter. Attention fully taken by the brooding thing with a warm and knowing smile

"Yeah", you'd said, watching the rabbit try to murder a carrot with a slow, surgical malice. "This one"

Now here you are, hours later, spent, sated. Filled, and panting in your bed. Sheets tangled. Skin still humming with Simon half-on top of you. Blanket of muscle strewn across your waist. Half buried in the pillow beside your head because "missed you birdie. needed you yeah? gone without you so long"

And of course you were dumb-dumb but not dumb-dumb... right?

So you'd believed him.

let him.

Welcomed him.

let him strip you bear and lay you down the kitchen counter. Sopping. Crying. Panting and whining while he buried his face to the nines down your core. Cold marble against fevered skin. Your shirt bunched up on your waist, baring your pebbled tits in view, while his hands practically muscled and gripped their way onto your thighs.

Held. Palmed. Clawed. Prisoned.

You were sure the indents and bruises on your inner thighs were moments where he lost accidentally lost control. Never having intentionally hurt you. Never capable. Never wanting to.

Slurping and sucking on the folds of your labia and clit like it was a personal mission between his mouth and your pussy alone. Sacred. Cleric on an altar. Groaning like he'd been starved for too long.

Stranded.

Parched.

And now, nirvana was between your legs

There was no gentle easing. Never really is whenever SImon got like this. God did you love it though. Just full assault. Tongue. Lips. Teeth. Mean. Overstimulation be damned

"cute this way yeah birdie? cunt practically pulsin' for me"

He liked the tears. Liked the tremble. Liked the way your body tried to escape even as it begged him not to stop. Because who was Simon if he didn't enjoy making his little bird scream and quiver underneath his touch.

You came once, and he didn’t even pause -- just gripped your thighs tighter, thumbs bruising into soft flesh, and kept going. Like your orgasm was an agreement. Like your moans were consent to ruin. By the time he finally rose -- chin soaked, mouth swollen, eyes dark and shining with something unspoken -- he carried you into his arms. Dizzy.

Wrecked.

Whining and whimpering incoherently.

Shaky.

Newborn fawn.

Fresh kill being hauled into your bedroom where he proceeded to manhandle you onto the bed -- face down, ass up, a position that felt less like suggestion and more like claim.

You barely had time to gasp, to find your breath between the heat and blur of it all, before he was behind you again -- pressing his weight over your back, one big hand flat between your shoulder blades, holding you down.

Like you’d run. Like you could.

“Still twitchin’,” he muttered, voice dark, ruined. A low hum against the shell of your ear as he ground his cock between your cheeks, already hard. “Didn’t get enough, huh?”

You whimpered, a sound punched out of your throat that didn’t sound like a yes or a no -- just need.

And he knew. Of course he did.

Because Simon always knew.

And now, he’s still draped over you like a weighted blanket with intimacy issues. Breathing soft and even. Sated and spent. Seed dripping down your thighs and sheets. Mission accomplished. The heat of his skin soaking into yours. A hand resting over your belly, thumb stroking there absently, like he's grounding himself. Like he doesn’t want to let go.

Which is exactly why you decide now is the time.

You shift a little, enough to get his hand to loosen. Enough to twist beneath him with a grin you know he can feel more than see.

“You asleep?”

He grunts.

Close enough.

You press a kiss to his cheek, lips skimming the edge of that jaw he rarely lets you near. “Got you something.”

Another grunt. More wary this time. His body tenses a hair, but you’re already slipping out from under him, ignoring the way your legs shake as you pull on his shirt -- it’s long enough to cover most of the carnage -- and pad toward the corner of the room.

The carrier’s still there. Heavy. Silent. Ominous.

Trying not to wince as you notice a growing dent and another hole at the side. Freshly mauled and gnawed. God you hope he doesn't eat anything important here.

You kneel beside it, unlatch the door, and wait.

There’s a pause.

And then: the slow, deliberate thump of massive paws as the creature waddles and hops out.

Surveys the room

Tactical.

observant.

Calculating. Fucking perfect

Immediately starts chewing the corner of Simon’s boots like it owes him money. Simon -- still half-asleep, still blissed-out and boneless -- blinks once, slow and confused. Sits up just enough to see over the covers.

“What the fuck is that?”

You grin. “Your emotional support rabbit.”

A long pause.

The rabbit, undeterred, begins gnawing at a strap. You think it’s almost... judgmental.

Simon stares. “Big bloke. Looks like it wants to kill me.”

You shrug. “That’s why I got him. Seemed fitting.”

Simon’s quiet again. Processing.

Then he leans back on the pillow, one arm flung over his eyes.

“Course you did.”

Another pause. The rabbit finishes murdering the boot and hops onto the foot of the bed. Heavy. Menacing.

“...What’s it called?”

You try not to laugh. “Didn’t name him yet. Figured you’d want to.”

The rabbit growls. Growls.

Simon groans. “You’re not right in the head, birdie.”

You grin and climb back into bed, curling into his side, watching as the rabbit hops up between you both like it owns the place.

“Neither are you,” you whisper into his shoulder, already smiling.

“He just needs a little space. And maybe therapy.”

Simon folds his arms. “Does it bark?”

“It’s a rabbit.”

“Still not convinced.”

Silence, thick and suspicious.

The hulking mass of the bunny flops onto its side without warning. A resounding thump thump follows as its weight meets the slightly dusted carpets of your floors.

Limbs stretched out, as if to say I’ve decided this rug belongs to me now.

Simon stares. The bunny stares. Something probably ancient passes between them.

“I don’t want it.”

“Didn’t ask if you did.”

“He’s not living here.”

“He’s not here for you.”

Another long pause.

“…You named it after me, didn’t you?”

You bite back a grin. Yes “He named himself.”

Simon exhales, a long-suffering sound muffled by the pillow. The rabbit twitches an ear, unimpressed. The two of them -- standing-off like old soldiers in a temporary ceasefire.

You plop a box of greens on the counter. “Just don’t feed him anything weird.”

Simon, muttering: “'should’ve stayed deployed.”

You, grinning: “You’re welcome, by the way.”

masterlist

[alicentsgf]

I think sometimes people misunderstand Shaunas relationship to violence and butchery. I've said before I dont think Shauna enjoys the violence of it and people have pushed back on that and I get why but I just want to explain what I mean.

I think the important aspect to remember is Shaunas attraction is primarily to power and control. She has always wanted to control and manipulate, she just doesnt know how to achieve it half the time, so when Coach Ben hands her the knife to butcher the stag she does get a thrill from it. Dead things cant fight back, she has power here, i guess in that way she enjoys the violence in it. Its also the fact she suddenly has a skill the others dont. Something to feel wanted and important in. Heres something she can manipulate physically the way she feels jackie manipulates her mentally. Its an outlet. Its fulfilling. And its not really the violence and blood she enjoys, its the security of having a domain thats hers to control.

Then, slowly but surely, it becomes a burden. She has to ration the food and as the winter goes on every week the rations get smaller and smaller. Now shes not so much the "badass" feeding them like Jackie dubbed her, shes the person disappointing them as she hands them some dried up, meager strips of bear meat.

What comes next is even worse. The most fucking awful burden, and theres no sense of control anymore at all. Butchering javi doesnt make her feel powerful, she's shaking, tear tracks down her cheeks, absolutely helpless. This is pure desperation, they're all depending on her. She feels compelled to do this because they need it and she has always wanted to be needed. Maybe even looked at like a hero or a martyr. To be admired. She shoulders the burden because shes the only one who can and she hopes when this over they'll look at her and see what shes sacrificed for them. Then maybe she'll regain that brief sense of control she once felt.

Except thats not how it happens. The burden she takes on is so heavy, piled on top of everything else shes lost, and it crushes her. Now none of the others can even bear to look at her. Shes something ugly now. They cant acknowledge what she did without acknowledging the part they played too. Shauna gifted them that ability to look away, and now they're trampling all over her grief and pain, thanking the wilderness for the sacrifices shes made; Jackie, Javi, her baby. Now the job that once made her feel powerful makes her feel weak at best and sickens her at worst, makes her feel worthless, so she lashes out at Nat. Nat who Shauna sees as always getting the glory of the kill without the hard work of the butchering. Its irrational but thats always been Shauna. In her misplaced hatred she wants to tear Nat down so badly. She needs to see Nat, so steadfast in her goodness, broken like this too so she can stop feeling so guilty about what shes become. Desperate to not feel so alone in it. She needs someone who will look her in the eyes and understand her, even if they don't like what they see.

So its never been the actual blood and guts Shauna finds enjoyment in. She doesn't jump at the chance to commit violence herself unless its an impulse, lashing out in rage or desperation. She gets far more enjoyment from coercing others; trying to manipulate Nat into shooting Coach Ben, handing the knife to Melissa to cut his tendon, punishing Nat by forcing her to be the butcher. Shauna hands off these roles easily because the more visceral side of violence is just a means to an end for her. What she really enjoys is power, control, manipulating others into violence because she feels so deeply isolated being the only one who had to feel Javis freezing skin and cold blood under her fingertips.

As an adult she kills the rabbit in the garden and yet again this is out of a need for control, frustrated by it damaging her flowers, frustrated by the lack of control she feels in her own home with her own family. So unseen and underappreciated once again. Its a messed up coping mechanism she just cant shake. But then she cries when Lottie tells her she doesnt have to kill the goat. Theres nothing to gain from it, and shes so tired of killing innocent things. Violence for violences sake is not who she is, it never was, shes just forever grasping desperately at power because deep down she feels so utterly helpless. Everything shes ever wanted she seems to come so close to having when it slides through her fingers; Jackie, her baby boy, an ivy league education, a relationship with her daughter, a way of reliving her lost youth. But no matter how hard she tries to control the situation, to control herself, she never can. She is all impulse, self-destruction and repression. What she wants most has always been the very antithesis of who she is.

So its always been about control for Shauna because shes never truly had it. Its more important to her than anything, especially in the teen timeline. The wilderness is not a place she can afford to be helpless in. Jackie was helpless, Javi was helpless, her baby was helpless. Its why we see her choosing to be angry and cruel. She has to choose it, because if she doesnt she will feel it anyway, and if she fights against the rage and pain and it wins (which it would), then shes not in control at all.

[fandoms--fluff]

Hey sorry to bother you, but can you do a Salvatore brothers x their baby sister who is maybe one or two, and she always clings to Damon, and she is the only one who Damon has a soft spot for please?

Once Upon A Time

Flufftober, October 16th

Baby Salvatore sister reader x Damon Salvatore (& Stefan + Elena)

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You head snaps up when you hear the door open and close. Jumping, down from the couch, teddy bear in your hand, you run over to the three people who just walked in. "Day!" You exclaim, running over to him, not paying attention to Stefan or Elena who are standing to the side of him.

Damon opens his arms and lifts you up once you run into them. "Hey, sweetheart" Damon chuckles as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"What are we? Invisible?" Stefan asks, a smile playing on his face. Elena covers up a giggle when you turn to Stefan and stick out your tongue.

"That's my girl" Damon pats your back before walking further into the house. "Be happy that he's at least not terrorizing people in town" Elena whispers to Stefan, making him nod in agreement.

"I can still hear you two love birds. And don't think for one second I won't consider to go, as you say it Elena, terrorize people of the town" Damon turns and says to the two of them before continuing his way up the stairs with you still in his arms. "Terrize?" You tilt your head in confusion. "Nothing for you to worry about, munchkin. Stefan and Elena are just jealous that you don't want to be with them right now" Damon tells you as he opens the door to your room.

"My Day" you cling to him tighter. "Yeah, I'm yours. I'm always here for you" He softly smiles as he lowers onto your bed and rest against the headboard. You're still sitting in his lap as you pick up his hand and start playing around with his fingers. You love to play little games like this since you guys were still human, only you knowing the rules to them.

A lot has obviously changed since then. After more than a century before coming back to Mystic Falls, you were mostly with Damon. That being cause Stefan had his ripper problems and he and Damon didn't want him to hurt you. So you still don't know the real reason you haven't been with Stefan a lot, but you just believe it's cause he's really busy doing important things. Your brothers keep most of the killings and the problems, like Stefan's ripper tendencies away from you. And it's worked so far.

He looks back down at you to see your eyes big and looking up at him. "What's going on in your little mind?" He asks you. "S'ory?" You asked, head tilting to the side.

"Hmm....Alright, how would you like a story about cute little bunnies and chipmunks teaming up to take down a brooding and glum boy?" He asks, smirking to himself. He may as well have fun with this. He can picture Stefan's eye roll and broodiness in his mind, this is going to be great.

"Yes p'ease" You nod your head in excitement. You lay yourself back against your big brother, snuggling into his chest as he starts the story.

"Once upon a time there were all these cute and tiny bunny rabbits and chipmunks who were living peacefully in the forest. But then, a boy who doesn't even think to ask permission or the animal's names, like Joe the chipmunk, comes crashing in and takes all their harmony and happiness away. They have to make a move and band together against the mean boy, so..." He creates the story all at once and tells you animatedly, making you giggle. As well as help you lull into a light sleep.

[fuckedupfate]

⭑𓂅 . ☘︎ ܁˖ ﹕ SAFETY NET.  

leading roles ﹕ dean winchester , f!reader

notices ﹕ swearing dean trying to ignore the fact he's in love fluff author's entry ﹕ this has been in my wip folder for WAY too long, but it's now here! made this while listening to safety net by ariana grande over and over again (i think i listened to it at least forty [maybe fifty] times) so i could get the vibe correct. so let's pray it helped and worked.

it isn't a secret that dean has trouble opening up, letting someone in. especially when that someone is of romantic interest. someone who he looks at and he feels his heart skip a beat, shoulders relax, expression soften. something he hasn’t felt for so long. and he wasn't even aware of it until he caught himself looking at you for longer than a second. or two. he looked at you for ten seconds. admiring you, head tilted to the right, eyes full of admiration, affection, and.. love? love? dean winchester looked at someone with love in his eyes? he was shocked himself, going into a deep rabbit hole of confusion and fear that he, for once in years, was falling in love. 

but he was. as much as he wanted to fight it, wanted to deny it and push it away, it was there. even if he hated it to be true. love. it was there. every time he looked at you. of course, he cared for you. of course he cared, and got worried, when you were hurt. or upset. or something happened. it didn't mean anything that he always felt inclined to help you. to grab anything that was out of your reach, to make sure you came out of fights unscathed, or without any major injuries. he’d hate himself if he let you get hurt. 

he saw the way sam looked at him after he, too, saw dean zone out while watching you. he saw it. the way sam raised a brow, gave him the ‘what was that about?’ look after dean—may have—gone a little overboard about you not getting hurt or putting yourself into a dangerous situation. he knew sam knew. he knew that sam saw the way he looked at you with complete and utter affection. softness. care. love. that fucking word again. love. he hated that he felt this way. he couldn’t get attached to you—no, he couldn't. because he knows how it’ll end. like it always does—you’ll be targeted. you’ll be hurt. killed. taken away from him. like everyone else he's ever loved, or decided to get close to. so he always chooses to never get close—even if he wants to. especially with you. 

but you’ve got him hooked, lined, and sinkered. despite all of his worries, fears, and paralysation, he was falling further and further. falling into a love with someone where there wasn’t a safety net for him to land into. there was no surface. no landing point. no stop. not even a pit stop. each and every day—without his permission—he finds himself slipping. falling at a speed faster than light and sound itself. getting sucked in by every single thing about you. your smile. your eyes. your hair. how you hold yourself. your confidence. every.single.thing. he tries, so desperately, to push you away, to keep you at arms length. not wanting you to get close to him. because he’ll be responsible if something happens to you. for if you get hurt. physically, emotionally, and mentally. every single way. he could scar you. lash out and hurt you. make you never want to get close to him ever again. he could lose you. you. and he won’t be able to save you, won’t be able to keep you safe, won’t be able to make sure nothing ever hurts you. and he hates it. it’s so unfair—and he’s the first man to ever know about unfairness. it’s his life. every thing in it. 

he’s unfair. cursed. 

he sits at the the table inside the bunker’s library, scrolling aimlessly on his laptop, searching for some sort of crisis which has happened so he and sam could potentially have a case on their hands. it’s been quite quiet lately within the supernatural world, so he doubts there’ll be anything. just as he’s roaming through the different websites and news outlets for anything, he hears footsteps. not heavy ones like sam’s, or ones that sound like cass’, no. they’re softer, more quiet, calculated. they’re your footsteps. he can tell. and as soon as he knows that you’re walking towards the library, his heart quickens without his permission, breath hitching slightly, and his mind races with what to say if you talk to him. 

a small smile graces your lips as you catch sight of dean. “whatcha doing?” you ask, head tilting to the right ever so slightly as you continue to walk, walking closer to him before you’re sitting down across from him at the table. shit. you’re sitting down too? his mind races, clearing his throat slightly to make sure his voice sounds as normal as he can make it. “just.. looking for a sign of any cases.” dean responds, voice even and sounding as it always does, but perhaps it’s a little softer? hopefully you don’t catch onto it. but what is he thinking? of course you’ll be able to hear it. damnit. 

“find anything?” you ask simply. and god it’s such a simple question, but for him? everything you say is more than simple. everything to him is a gateway for his brain to ramble with thoughts, for his body to fill with different feelings and emotions, for his heart to quicken, and for his eyes to glisten with admiration whenever he looks at you. fuck. fuckfuckfuckfuck. he gulps slightly, managing a small, rugged nod. “yeah—yeah.” it’s a complete lie, and when he catches that, he’s quick to backtrack. “no. no. actually. no. i didn’t. nothing out there, apparently.” he so badly wants to look at you, so badly wants to admire you, see the way your eyes are on him, see the way you’re looking at him. not sam. not some random person. him. but he doesn’t. he can’t. not with how he’s acting. not with how his heart is pounding and rushing blood quickly throughout his veins. 

he doesn’t see it, but he swears he feels the way your eyebrow raises at his response, at how quick he had spoken. he swears he can feel the way you’re letting your gaze flick over him, skeptical on what is going on with him, because he knows he is acting odd. acting differently to his usual self. get it together, dean. “..right.” you finally say, voice laced with skepticism and confusion, maybe even a hint of amusement. “and.. everything’s alright?” you ask, head tilting to the right slightly as your gaze remains on him. 

his heart skips another beat—which is like the fourth time in the few minutes you’ve been sitting there with him. he takes a beat of a moment before nodding slightly, clearing his throat once again and offering you his, watered down version of, signature smirk once he’s—finally—glanced up from the laptop screen and met your eyes. “perfectly fine, sweetheart.” he manages, ignoring the way his heart drops to his stomach when his eyes meet yours. 

you let out a quiet huff of amusement, nodding slightly as the corners of your lips twitch up into a small smile. you don’t push it, even if you can feel that there’s something off with him. “alright.” you hum and slowly get up from the wooden seat you have been sitting at, tapping the table with your fingertips before walking away and out of the library. 

and once you’re gone, it feels as though a weight has been lifted off of his chest, finally allowing for a normal amount of air to enter his lungs. finally allowing for his heart to slow down and go back to normal. finally allowing him to breathe. finally allowing for his brain to quiet, but not as much, because he can still smell the lingering scent of your perfume. the lingering presence. your voice echoing inside his mind. fucking hell. 

as you’re sat in the backseat of baby, talking with sam, dean is sat in the driver’s seat—driving, of course—but his mind is elsewhere. focusing on how your voice sounds. how he can smell your perfume. how he can hear the soft riffling of book pages from the book sat on your lap, which he found that you fiddle with mindlessly whenever you’re not reading it. in all honesty, the sound of sam’s voice is just a background sound in his mind, muffled and deafened by the workings of his mind, so he can completely focus on yours and yours alone. even if he doesn’t mean to. even if he doesn’t want to. 

he can feel you lean forwards, leaning into the front of the car’s space, arm reaching over in sam’s direction, trying to grab ahold of the bag which sits in his lap. keep it together. together, dean. keep.it.together. he forces his eyes to not stray from in front of him, from off the road before them. he hears the rustling of the paper takeout bag, hears you protest against sam’s disapproval of trying to grab the bag, hearing the quiet laughs which come from you. he then hears the sound of victory you make when you’re successful in grabbing the bag, laughing at sam and beginning to eat the fries which are inside. much to sam’s (faux) annoyance. on the road. keep your eyes on the road. 

eventually, the impala comes to a stop outside of the outer entrance of the bunker. sam moves, opening his door and getting out, the door shutting shortly after. along with your own door. dean is quick to get out, watching sam walk down the steps and to the door, and he stops you before you can. “wait—” he manages to get out, gently grabbing your wrist, causing you to turn and look at him. calm and collected, dean. ease it out. 

you quickly glance down to his hand wrapped around your wrist, but you quickly avert your gaze back up to his eyes. you tilt your head, raising a singular brow at him. “mm?” you hum out, looking at him confused and expectantly. 

he takes a shaky inhale, glancing away for a moment. don’t be an idiot. god, don’t do this. just.. “i—fuck.” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair before letting it fall back down to his side. this is such a bad idea. push her away, go inside. don’t do this. he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes, afraid of what your expression will be like, even if it’ll be the softest expression ever. he can’t bring himself to do it. he can’t look at you. it’ll just make everything harder. make speaking harder. make his heart beat quicker. make his mind ramble on quicker. “i just—i—” he’s never felt like this. well, sure, he’s felt his heart be like this before, and his head, and the blood rushing through his veins, and the hardness of breathing. yes, of course he’s felt like this. but this is more than he’s felt. more than he’s ever felt with his not so little crush on you. he doesn’t even think he can call it a crush. it’s like an obsession. a need. a longing. he yearns for you. 

what makes it worse is that you don’t speak. you haven’t said anything. it’s as if you’re trying to let him take his time, let him do all the speaking. he doesn’t know if he hates that or if he’s grateful for it. he’s on a line of confusion. at a stop in the road, and he can only go one of two ways. tell you how he feels, tell you the truth. risk getting closer to you. risk being with you. or he can lie, say something about something random. ignore his feelings. risk not being with you. risk never being able to touch you. risk never being able to feel your love, feel your softness. feel your lips against his. 

“i need you with me.” he manages to blurt out, words quick but sincere. and it’s easy for you to see that he is being sincere, you can see it in his averted gaze, on his face, in his tone of voice. your expression softens, though your confusion doesn’t disappear exactly. “i’ve—i’ve been—” he stumbles over his words, unable to figure out how he’s supposed to tell you how exactly he feels. he’s never been a sharer, never been one to be vulnerable, never been one to tell a woman that he wants to be with her. that he needs her to be with him. “i can’t let you go. i—i can’t—you feel good with me. i feel good around you. i’ve tried to ignore it. tried to ignore how i felt. but fuck. you’ve got me feeling things i have never felt. you’ve got me thinking things i’ve never thought about. and i’m terrified. i’m scared of what i feel. of what i want to do. of what i want between us.” 

he knows he’s oversharing, but he’s started and now he can’t stop. everything he has been keeping inside, locked and shoved away, never allowing to escape the depths of his mind. it’s all coming out, all at once. and he can’t stop. 

“i’ve tried to avoid it. tried to convince myself that it’s all in my head, and i feel as though it is. i—” he cuts himself off, exhaling quietly. “i don’t know how to do this. all i know is that i want to do this. i want to be with you.” 

after a few moments of silence between you and him, after you’ve stayed silent for some time, he finally dares to let his eyes drift over to you. finally allowing for his eyes to meet yours. to see the expression on your face. to see the way you’re looking at him. 

he sees your lips part, and both relief and dread wash over him. he’s scared. what if you don’t feel the same way? what if he has just blurted out all of his feelings, all for you to say you don’t think that about him? what if you don’t want him back? his fear, heavy and poisonous, fills his veins. freezing his blood, making his heart stop. 

“it’s not in your head.” you say. words and voice soft. truthful. sincere. not at all a lie, nor a cruel joke you’re wanting to play on him. but he has second guesses. concerns. doubts. and you see that, feel it rolling off of him in large waves. “it’s real, dean.” you add on, in hopes to reassure him. in hopes that he relaxes and trusts you. “i feel the same way. i’ve felt scared too. worried that this won’t go well if i let it happen. worried that i’ll tell you too late and you’ll have moved on from me.” your words are so impactful. to him, they’re more than a simple confession. it’s an arrow into his heart, allowing for the fear which froze over him to break and thaw. letting his heart beat, blood rush through his veins. 

he finds himself stepping closer to you, his hand which he forced to stay by his side finally moving. finally drifting up and pressing against the soft, warm skin of your cheek. he lets himself feel. for the first time for years. he just takes you in. takes in the feeling of your skin beneath his. takes in the warmth and comfort which washes over him. takes in how much he truly feels for you. 

“never let me run away.” he all but whispers. voice soft within the silence of the night, mixing in with the soft breeze which is felt against skin, brushing through hair. “i won’t.” you whisper back, giving him a wave of hope to wash over. a small smile now tugging at his lips. 

his lips then meet yours. soft, warm, safe. beginning to feel the same thing he’s been dreaming of ever since he started falling down the abyss of love. he doesn’t ever want that safety net to come. he wants to let himself fall so far down the way that he can’t get back out. that he can’t let himself push you away and run. 

tag, you're it ﹕ @littlesoulshine @h8aaz @multiversefanfics @blossomingorchids ⟆ transportation ! ∿ quickie back to the hub ∿ be in charge of a fic! ∿ join the game of tag!

[cringe--is--dead]

Windbreaker Boys + The Pet You Two Adopt

incl. Umemiya, Tsubakino, Kaji, Sakura, Suo, & Nirei

Umemiya Hajime: Dog

No surprise: you two are adopting a dog together. I'm talking: a Japanese spitz. They're smart, loyal, playful, affectionate, and white, fluffy things.

Both Umemiya and your newest family addition are the cuddliest things ever. you wake up with Umemiya wrapped around you and your fluffy baby curled up against your chest-- you're literally never moving from the bed.

Both follow behind you like shadows. You're going to the kitchen? They're coming too! Bathroom? They'll wait outside for you (not patiently). You're going outside? Family walk! You don't truly get alone time anymore.

Umemiya would have trained any pet to protect you, regardless of size or temperament. Which works, cause despite this breed's size, they are so loyal they're natural guard dogs. You have scary dog privilege with your boyfriend, and (attempted) scary dog privilege with your son.

They make the same facial expressions sometimes. You're in a bad mood, storming around the apartment? Both are silently watching you, eyes wide as they wait for a lull to come to you. They're confused? Matching little head tilts. You stand no chance against their duo puppy eyes.

During holidays, he's buying matching couples and dog sweaters to take pictures. He sends them to all his aunts and uncles around town, as well as to his brothers and Kotoha. (she pins the pictures on her fridge, but no one is allowed to ask her about them)

Having a furry child with this man makes you start thinking about what it would be like seeing him as an actual father... O.o

Tasuku Tsubakino: Bunny

First: y'all can't adopt a white rabbit because Tsubaki will be placing little kisses on its head, and the lipstick will stain.

Anyways, y'all would get a little lionhead rabbit, they rarely get to even a foot long and weigh maybe up to three pounds? Y'all have a little carrying companion for a while!

These types of bunnies can be timid when you first meet them, but once you gain their trust, they're playful, friendly, and very social little creatures. No offense to you, but I have a feeling Tsubaki is the one gaining her trust first.

Imagine the most spoiled, pampered pet you'd ever seen. Now triple that. That's the life your bunny lives with the two of you as parents. A bed in every room. Snacks and treats at her leisure. There are puzzles and toys, stairs so she can climb onto things (like your sofa), it's basically her apartment, you two just live there.

Tsubaki would get little accessories for her, and is the only one who can put them on her. Little bows on her fur near her ears, a little dress for Easter pictures, a harness and leash to take her outside on nice days.

Imagine coming home from work or school or shopping and Tsubaki is curled up on the couch, sleeping face mask on while taking a nap in the sun, the little fluff ball curled up on his chest, also fast asleep. New lock screen!

Tsubaki has a folder dedicated to pictures of you and the bunny, too, separate from the folders dedicated to just you and just the bunny. There are pictures of you cuddling her, of you brushing her fur, napping with her, just being in the same vicinity as her. Safe to say Tsubaki is (healthily) obsessed with his little family.

Kaji Ren: Betta Fish

He would be against having a pet at first; he would worry about hurting it on accident, worried it would just hate him, worried neither of you would be home enough, be able to afford all the things it needed (but he would also NOT tell you these things, you have to thank Hiragi for this information)

You do your research and drag him to a pet shop and look at the wall of fish. Nothing catches his eye until he sees the betta fish, you know the thing I mean, how they're all in little cups by themselves. That sight would definitely catch his attention. Some worker would come over, talking about the fish, and he'd be half listening.

He'd hear them talk about how people adopt these poor guys and leave them in crappy tanks, how their fins would tear if they weren't properly cared for, how they're smart fish and can even recognize their owners and he is just sold.

You two leave with a beautiful betta fish, a 6.5-gallon tank, and all the accessories needed, as well as food and even treats. Kaji would take it as a personal mission to have the best cared-for betta fish. He sets it up by himself, insisting on it, headphones on as he works.

Once the setup and initial stuff are taken care of, Kaji finds himself near the tank more often than not when he's home. It's near one end of the couch, so whenever you two are having a relaxing night in, you're always curled up near it.

Sometimes you'll find him silently watching him, eyes tracing his path as he swims around, sometimes he'll swim to the glass, and the two will just stare at each other. Silent communication. You've sent many videos and pictures to Enomoto and Kusumi.

You set the fish up on a well-planned feeding schedule, and Kaji just comes in with little fish treats behind your back. He wants the fish to be happy, even if it means pushing your food schedule a little bit.

It's a pet that you both love, but it's good for him in a way. He won't say it, nor can he explain why, but just watching him swim or float about is calming. Even better if you're curled up next to him. In those moments Kaji feels like any violence he has in his past is nothing more than a bad dream he's started to forget.

Suo Hayato: Cat

You have to stop him from adopting a tuxedo cat and naming it “Sakura”. Even if the idea was tempting.

You end up adopting a maine coon, and it’s the most pampered pet you’ve ever seen. Maine coons are great family cats; they’re friendly and gentle, sociable and playful.

Suo somehow manages to never once get scratched by this cat. Not on purpose, not on accident. Even when he’s riling the cat up or just playing with him, the cat has never once left a mark on Suo. He says he’s a cat whisperer, “Afterall— I managed to befriend Sakura-kun!”

Doesn’t matter how big your cat gets, Suo has trained him to believe he is and always will be a lap cat. You swear he also trained the cat to be the most annoying, cutest menace ever.

Doing work on your laptop? He’s laying on your keyboard, purring up a storm, eyes closed and content. You finally move him off? Suo’s hugging you from behind, somehow pulling you away to the couch to watch something and cuddle.

Your cat and him look so smug about it you know the planned it.

We’ve seen how Suo sleeps, so I can very much imagine waking up, turning and seeing the cat laid out on his chest, both fast asleep. The bigger your cat gets the more you wonder how he hasn’t suffocated your boyfriend.

He has pictures of your cat that look professionally taken, like the lighting and angles are absolutely insane. He has similar ones of you too, but he more often shows you the pictures of you that are… unflattering.

He enjoys calling your cat “your son” when you two are out and anyone asks how you two are doing. The older aunts and uncles gush over how cute your baby must be, and by this point you’re too embarrassed to correct them or Suo, whose just smiling.

Akihiko Nirei: Ferret

At first I was going to give Nirei a hamster, but then I saw a tiktok of ferrets when they get excited and knew he’d adopt one.

He’s so excited when you bring the ferret home, vibrating the whole way. You can literally see stars in his eyes.

He does so much research you’re not surprised when you get shipment after shipment of things. Long sweaters, plastic balls, noodles, boxes, food, treats, etc.

The ferret follows him around, trotting happily behind him. Once Nirei trips and nearly steps on him, and he decides to start carrying him on his shoulders all day.

The ferret loves to burrow into Nirei’s curls, and you always have to be the one to detangle his hair at night. He always says he’ll stop it, but he never does.

He starts buying shirts with pockets on his chest, large enough that your ferret can rest in them. It’s adorable to be talking to Nirei and then the little face pops up from his pocket. Scares the crap out of Sakura the first time it happens. And every time after that.

You’ve gotten used to the ferret trying to climb your pants whenever he sees you— both Nirei and the ferret get so excited when you come home. With Nirei’s thousand watt smile and the ferrets excited wiggles, how can you not look forward to going home every day?

You buy little glasses for the ferret that match Nirei’s. They last only but so long, but it was your favorite purchase for him ever.

Sakura Haruka: Hamster

First! And! Foremost! Don't let this boy read any posts about how people's hamsters have died. He will lose his sanity.

He's already so terrified cause of how tiny the hamster is, terrified someone will step on it or sneeze while holding it and it'll fly out of your hands, so any horror stories revolving around hamsters' deaths can not be seen.

Sometimes you find him just crouching down near his enclosure, watching him move, watching him eat and drink. You have to approach the scene slowly, or your boyfriend will run away and flee. There was once where the hamster was eating and you saw Sakura mimic the way his cheeks were puffed out— it’s a memory you hold close to your heart.

Sakura holds the hamster so gingerly every time he holds it. Palms cupping the little thing, eyes wide, breath is being held, hands trembling. He doesn’t blink, too scared if he looks away for even a second the hamster will fall or disappear.

As he gets more comfortable with the tiny pet, he’s so soft around it. We all know Sakura’s soft inside, but you get to see it in person. Whenever he runs up to the sides of his enclosure when Sakura’s there, he bends down and so gently scratches the hamster’s head. You’re sure if hamsters could purr, yours would be.

Once when Sakura is on the couch, watching something he lets the hamster sit on his shoulder. He burrows into his shirt and sleeps, and you’ve never seen Sakura sit so still for so long.

You don’t have to fear a horror death story for this little guy, Sakura is so paranoid and anxious about those he loves getting hurt your hamster lives for so long you start to think it’s immortal.

A/N: some are longer than others, my brain kept sparking out.

[hippiegoth97]

Random Eddie Thought #2

This one really got away from me, but it's nice to write something new again :)

18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie, smut, sex dreams/fantasies, mentions of genital piercings/oral sex/masturbation/choking/unprotected sex, invasion of privacy, erections, crying, heavy kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lovers

A Few Tags: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @mediocredreams

@micheledawn1975 @slowandsteddie @bimbobaggins69 @etherealxwitch @taintedcigs

You're in the kitchen of your apartment, getting a snack to share with Eddie, your best friend, who's come to have a perfectly platonic sleepover with you. You've known each other since high school, becoming fast friends. You never fit in the with 'in crowd' and Eddie naturally picked up on your awkward and shy nature. Over the years he's managed to get you to open up more and be yourself, though it's mostly only around him, even after all these years. You tell each other everything, and have been there for one another through thick and thin.

One thing he hasn't seemed to notice, however, is your growing feelings for him. As you both matured into your mid-twenties, you've been unable to deny just how gorgeous Eddie is. With his long curls, big brown eyes, and lithe body covered in tats and piercings. Not to mention he's perpetually dressed in band tees and jeans that don't leave much to the imagination. Ugh, he's absolutely perfect. Inside and out.

That's not to say he hasn't always been hot stuff, because of course he has. But he's not the scrawny little boy who picked you out of a long line of geeks and freaks anymore. No, now he's a strong, handsome, sexy man. A man who treats you like no one ever has before. He brings you something every time he comes to see you, ranging anywhere between a new book or a pretty rock he found on a walk once. He opens doors for you, and holds you in his arms when you're sad. He makes you soup when you're sick, nursing you back to health even if it means missing work.

The only thing missing, is something you've craved since the day you met him. Something you've never spoken aloud. Something you've only verbalized in late night cries of ecstasy when you get off to the thought of your best friend. Something you've only admitted in the pages of your diary. The diary that Eddie has just found in your bedside drawer, along with a pretty pink rabbit that makes him chuckle when he first sees it.

And what do we have here?... Eddie thinks to himself, pulling the book out of its hiding place. It's thick, bound in leather, detailed with little leaves and flowers. He thinks maybe it's a poetry journal, or a sketchbook. You share his affinity for the creative. It isn't until he actually opens that he realizes what's inside. Your deepest, darkest secrets. He flips through the pages, noting the dates as he reads about strange dreams you've had, or bad one-night stands. His eyes widen when he reaches an entry from a week ago, with the opening line: I dreamt about Eddie again last night...

He debates putting the diary back, not wanting to invade your privacy. He's not one to snoop, especially when you tell him everything anyway. Well, at least he thought you did. He bites his lip, tapping his foot on the floor as he decides what to do. He really should just put it back, and pretend he never saw it (or your special toy). But something inside him begs to know what your dreams of him are like. If they're anything resembling the dirty fantasies he's had of you while alone in his bed, he can't let it go until he knows for sure. He decides to read the next few lines, after flicking his eyes to the doorway to listen for your footsteps coming back from the kitchen.

...it was the same as all the others. Eddie was in my bed, and we were naked. His soft, warm lips were on mine, his tongue was in my mouth, and his hands were everywhere. It felt so good, having him kiss me like that while he explored every inch of me. His fingers were carefully thrusting inside my pussy, making me so fucking wet. I could feel his dick pressing into my thigh, and I took him in my hand. The noise he made when I touched him was so beautiful, he sounded so breathless and needy for me...

Eddie knows he should stop. This is wrong. So, so wrong. These are your private thoughts, and he shouldn't be reading them. Even if they're making a tent form in his pants. His heart races in his chest, and he feels rather hot under the collar. His stomach twists with an uneasy mix of guilt and arousal. He lets out a shaky breath, once again weighing his options. Keep reading, or put the damn thing away and never, ever bring it up. He looks down the hall, wondering how much time he has left before you come back. Against his better judgment, he gives in to his desire for you. With eyes glued to your neat handwriting, he reads on.

...I could feel him grow in my hand, fuck, he was huge. I've seen it in real life before, and not entirely on accident. Since we're so close, we change in front of each other sometimes. And even though I've never seen it hard, I can tell his dick is big. It's even got a goddamn piercing on it, shining in the light like a lure. I swear to God, it takes everything in me not to fall to my knees and take him in my mouth whenever I see it...

Eddie scoffs loudly, unable to believe you've actually been checking him out. A part of him wonders if this is a sick joke, that you'd somehow known to leave this here for him to see. Any second now, you'll come busting in here and laugh in his face. Maybe even snap a picture of his embarrassingly large erection amd make copies to give all your friends.

But that's not you. You're too kind and sweet to him to ever pull such a cruel (and improbably elaborate) prank. Sure, he's wanted you for years. To call you his girl, to love you the way you should be loved. To kiss you, and hold you, and touch you in all the ways he thinks you'd like. To love you, and spoil you like the queen you are in his eyes. He's just never allowed himself to think you'd ever feel the same about him. Until now.

"What are you doing with that?" You ask softly, frozen in place in the doorway of your bedroom with a tray of snacks in your hands. Your eyes are blown wide, as you've come back to find Eddie on your bed, reading your diary, with a huge hard-on in his pants.

"I-I, I was, uh, just...um..." Eddie babbles helplessly, slamming the book shut and tossing it across the room. As if it being anywhere else will magically absolve him of invading your privacy. You just stare at him as he goes red in the face, and gestures with his hands as he fails to come up with an explanation. "...sorry." He says after letting out a long string of unintelligible sounds. He cringes at the word, realizing it's not nearly enough. But his mind and mouth can't come up with anything that doesn't sound like a feral goblin choking on a chicken bone.

"What part did you read?" You ask, your own cheeks turning a deep crimson. You really hope he didn't find your latest sex dream entry, but the glaring evidence in his jeans tells you that's exactly what he saw.

"Read? No, I was, um...j-just skimming..." He chuckles nervously, hoping you'll buy it. But the darkening blush on your skin and tears welling in your eyes lets him know he's truly caught. "Sweetheart, I—" Eddie starts, standing up as you're about to fall apart.

"Eddie, I swear, I-I didn't mean it! It was just a dream, and pfft! I was high when I wrote that!" You laugh uncontrollably as a way to hide your tears of embarrassment, frantically shaking your head. You've never been so mortified in your life, caught red handed in the worst way possible. You could've gone forever without ever letting him know how you feel. The potential rejection seemed too painful to endure. "I didn't mean it, Eddie. I didn't." Your laughter devolves into soft sobs, your grip loosening on the tray. Eddie catches it before everything tumbles to the floor, setting it on your dresser.

"Sweetheart, c'mere." Eddie takes your hands in his, and leads you over to your bed to sit beside him. You follow him, unable to do much else as tears stream down your face. "I'm sorry for snooping, angel. That wasn't right for me to do." He says sadly, stroking your soft skin with his thumbs. You nod in response. "And we can pretend this never happened, okay? Like you said, it was just a dream." He offers, his own words stabbing into his heart at the idea of never fully being with you the way he wants. But he doesn't feel like he's earned it. Not after making you so upset, and betraying your trust.

"Why did you read it?" You ask abruptly, more curious than angry. As humiliating as it is that he found you out before you could tell him yourself, you want to know how those secret words made him feel.

"I got bored, and curious. I found it in your drawer, thinking it was poetry or something. But then I found the entry of you dreaming about me..." Eddie trails off, pondering what to say next. "...and I got more curious."

"About what?" You continue, your tears drying up.

"About whether or not you want me the same way I want you." He boldly admits. He may as well, since your diary entries admitted your own wonderful, awful, heart-breaking, nerve-wracking secret to him. You don't say anything else, eyes blown wide in shock. "I want to be with you, princess. I've always wanted that." He says emphatically, making your heart swell as well as race.

"Really?" You ask, as if his erection earlier wasn't enough indication of his desire for you. You've dreamt about this moment so many times, spent numerous moments throughout the days and nights hoping one day he'd see you. You now stupidly realize, that there was never a time where he didn't.

"Yes, really. If you can forgive me for being a creep, that is." He says with a chuckle, making you giggle as well.

"Yeah, I think I can manage that." You smile, squeezing his hands with your own. "How far did you get anyway?" You ask curiously.

"Uh, right about where you talked about wanting to suck my massive, pierced cock." Eddie replies, moaning in an exaggerated way on his final words to tease you.

"Ugh, that's so embarrassing!" You groan, covering your face in shame.

"It's really not, babydoll. I'm just flattered that you noticed." He insists, pulling your hands down so he can see your pretty face again.

"I'll count myself lucky you didn't read any more." You giggle sheepishly, recalling how the rest of that dream went. You riding Eddie's cock while his large hand wraps tightly around your throat, filthy praises leaving his lips to spur you on. Him fucking you from behind, tugging your head back by your hair as he grunts and groans with every thrust. Among other equally explicit things.

"Shit, now I have to read the rest!" Eddie says impishly, diving off the bed to get the diary that still lays on the floor.

"Eddie, no! Please, it's too embarrassing!" You shriek, clamoring after him. But he's quicker than you, snatching up the book and holding it above your head. You try to jump up and tear it from his reach, but it's no use. He chuckles at your foolish attempts, slowly moving closer to you while still holding the diary above your heads. His free arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close. Your hands meet his chest, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sudden movement. He gazes deep into your eyes with burning lust, a smirk plastered on his lips.

"Think of it this way, sweetheart. If I read the rest, I'll know exactly what we're doing tonight." He speaks seductively, in a way you've only heard in your dreams.

"This can't be happening." You scoff, convinced you somehow fell asleep before Eddie came over tonight.

"Is it really so hard to believe that I'm in love with you?" He asks, dropping the Casanova act for a second and tossing the diary on the bed. He cups your cheek, and leans in to kiss you. His plush lips meet yours, giving you a taste of sweet, beautiful reality.

"Mm." You grab hold of the sides of his face, deepening the kiss. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, drawing a quiet moan from you. Time seems to stop as your mouths move together as one, and joyful tears spring from your eyes. This is all you've ever wanted. To love Eddie, and to have him love you back.

He carefully leads you backwards to the bed, laying you down on top of it as he kneels above you. He pulls away, wiping the salty tracks from your face. He smiles warmly, admiring every last bit of you and saving it away to remember this forever. "Can I make you feel good, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, as if it's his dying wish.

"Please." You reply softly, giving him a nod.

"Perfect." He reaches over for the diary, finding his place as he lays down beside you. "Now...where were we?" He muses, eyes bugging out when he reads what comes next. "Christ, I picked a good night to be nosy." He turns his head to look at you, wearing a devilish grin unlike you've ever seen on him before. "I swear to god, I'm gonna make all your dreams come true, babydoll. Even if it takes all night." He purrs, before chucking the damned book away one last time and pouncing on you.

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Little Crush

Nat x Reader after Civil War feat. Steve and Sam

Summary: You and Nat get closer in your cabin in the woods, the question is, how close do you get?

Warnings: mutual pining, one swear word, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, sad Steve, annoying Sam, one hot scene, implication of sex but not described

Word Count: 4.6k

Notes: Natasha calls reader krolik - meaning bunny/rabbit in russian. Reader sings and plays guitar

I recommend listening to the song Little Crush by Dianna Corcoran.

It took me over 2 weeks but I'm finally happy with this!

You were a S.H.I.E.L.D agent working under Clint and Natasha for a few years before the battle of New York. You knew Natasha from the red room. You were a few years younger than her but you still recognised her, how could you forget the woman that set you free. You were on the street when the Chituari attacked. You ran into battle and assisted the others, surprising them all with your skills. Natasha knew you could handle yourself but even she was surprised, she would never admit it but she thought you might even be as good as her. Might.

After defeating the army you were welcomed into The Avengers. You stayed close to Natasha more than the others as you still had a hard time trusting people, namely men. You slowly befriended Nat and learnt more about her. You and Clint were the only people who knew about Nat's little sister. She would tell you stories about Ohio when she'd had a few drinks and was reminiscent. You loved to hear stories about the two of them together.

You slowly let yourself get comfortable around the other Avengers but you were still weary. You didn't often sleep through the night as your nightmares would take over. When you couldn't sleep you trained, over and over again. You were an almost completely flawless fighter and in spectacular condition, but it was the only thing that could put your mind to ease, even slightly.

You fought alongside Natasha after the Sokovia Accords. You hated having to fight against the people you called friends, even family, but Natasha asked for your help so you did it. Even though you didn't enjoy hurting your friends you had to admit it felt pretty awesome when you knocked THE Captain America on his ass. You were a bit less than thrilled when a giant kicked you in the face but everything has its ups and downs. You managed to get away from the fight with just a few cuts and scrapes and maybe a broken rib here and there.

You told Nat about a cabin you inherited that would make the perfect safe house and you headed there with her.

After several different methods of transportation and hours of travel you and Nat finally arrived at your cabin.

Nat whistled "This is pretty fancy"

"Yeah, a few years back I found out that Dreykov didn't kill every family member I had. I had an aunt that left this for me"

"Sorry, krolik" She rested a hand on your back which you didn't quite brush off.

"Nah, 's fine. I didn't know she was alive before so why does it matter when she's dead?"

"Yeah" Nat exhaled, changing the subject "So wanna drop our stuff and go find some food?"

"God, do I ever"

You practically threw your bags in the door and went off in search of food. You found a little corner store, the only place still open at the late hour, and raided it for everything you should need for a while at least. You walked out to the car carrying 3 bags of groceries each.

"You think we got enough?" Nat said as she loads the bags in.

"Hey, I'm the one who cooks, aren't I?"

"Maybe, I haven't seen you put your skills to the test in a while"

"Just shut up and drive, Romanoff"

She started the car and looked in your direction with a smirk.

Once you get back you unload the groceries and get started on dinner. You decide to make mushroom stroganoff, you remember a story Nat told you about a time she made it for Yelena when they were little. That was always one of her favourite stories to tell and one you loved to hear.

Natasha was out the back chopping wood for the fire when she smelled the aroma flooding out the kitchen window. She walked up to the window and popped her head through.

"What's cookin' good lookin'?" She called out, scaring the living shit out of you and making you drop the ladle in your hand.

"Nat! You're lucky that wasn't our dinner!"

"Sorry, smells good. Is that mushroom stroganoff?"

"Yes, I remember a story you told me about Yelena and I thought you'd like it"

"Krolik, that's so sweet"

"Well you kinda saved my ass when that giant almost squished me, so I guess I owe ya"

"How much do you owe me?"

"What have you done now?"

"Nothing! I could just use a hand moving some of this wood. Where's a super soldier when you need one huh?"

"Probably with his icy boyfriend"

"I told you they're not dating"

"I'll believe it when they stop looking at each other like that"

"Like what?"

"Like the way you look at that beer" You point with your ladle, emphasising your point.

"You mean my soulmate?"

"Exactly"

"So, you gonna help me or just stand there and look pretty?"

"You think I'm pretty, why Natasha I'm flattered!"

"Yeah, yeah, get on with it"

"I'll be out in a sec, just gotta turn off the stove. We don't want a repeat of what happened in that b&b, do we?"

"It was one time! You are never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Nat, you set the kitchen on fire"

"I set the kitchen on fire ONCE, now you won't even let me near a lighter"

"It's called self preservation, I think you should try it"

With that you closed the window, after Nat gave you the finger, and went outside to help her. You got the wood in and started the fire, just in time to sit down for dinner.

"Thank you" Nat whispered into her bowl.

"Are you thanking the mushrooms for their great sacrifice?"

"No, idiot. I'm thanking you"

"Well you're welcome and you're lucky I like to cook"

"Not just for dinner, for everything. Not many people would become internationally wanted criminals, leave their life behind and live in the woods for someone so, thanks"

"Eh 's no biggie. I didn't really have a life before you anyways"

"You know" She takes in a deep breath "Never mind" She sighs.

"What? Too much salt?"

"Nah, it's perfect"

You and Nat had both gone to bed hours ago but you were still awake. Just lying in bed in your room and staring up at the ceiling. You had gone to sleep pretty quickly but you had a nightmare, a nightmare you couldn't bear to think of, a nightmare about Natasha. You knew it wasn't real but that didn't provide you with much solace.

You decided to get up, maybe walking around the cabin would help, at this point you were willing to try anything. You went for a walk outside, taking in the night air, fresh smells of trees and pine cones and the sweet early morning bird songs. You walked for what felt like ages just the crickets and crunch of grass underfoot to keep you grounded, to keep you from drifting away and possibly never coming back. You made your way back to the cabin just before sunrise. You thought it might be nice to get a good few of the sunrise so you climbed up the ladder on the side of the building and sat on the rooftop. It was oddly calming, a feeling that you rarely felt. Whenever you do feel calm it's usual because of Natasha, she makes you feel safe when you never thought anyone could. You sat up there for a while before you started to hum. It wasn't something you chose to do it was more, subconscious, you just started to hum.

Nat heard the humming and checked your room, but you weren't there. She checked the whole house but you were nowhere to be found. She knew you liked to go on walks to clear your head so she went to look for you. Not too long after, you felt a presence next to you. She sat with you for a moment, not saying anything, as she knew sometimes it was better for you to just sit in silence with someone. After a little while you rested your head on her shoulder and she welcomed the touch. You had maintained your usual demeanour around her but you seemed to hold yourself back since Germany. You hadn't said anything, you wouldn't, but she could tell something was off. She knew you very well and she knew that the fight had impacted you more than you let on.

"I miss them"

"I know, I do too"

Those were the only words the two of you spoke for a long time, you just stayed together. Her arm came and wrapped around your shoulder and she held you close. She felt so guilty for what she had dragged you into, she thought you resented her but you could never.

Since that day, whenever you needed a break you would go up to the roof and whenever Nat couldn't find you she knew you were there. Weeks went by and you still had your little routine of whenever you felt overwhelmed, you'd go up to the roof and after a while Nat would come and sit with you. It was nice to have something that needed no explanation, it was nice to have that time with Nat, just sitting together.

You decided to go through all the stuff in the attic while Nat was getting supplies in town. You found all kinds of your aunt's old belongings. You were surprised that she actually had pretty good taste, there were some nice clothes, old records, a few good books and a guitar. You can't remember the last time you picked up a guitar, you learned to play years ago but between being an Avenger and running from the government you haven't had much time to practise. You unlocked the case and picked it up, it was still in tune and you strummed your fingers across the strings. Before you knew it you were playing some old melody mindlessly.

"I didn't know you could play" Nat's voice came from behind you, startling you and causing you to almost drop the guitar.

"Oh, um, hi" You stuttered nervously.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked"

"Guess I didn't. Next thing, you're gonna tell me you're a singer"

You looked down shyly.

"You're not, are you?"

"I wouldn't say I'm a singer but I've been told I don't exactly sound like a cat being strangled"

"Could you sing something for me?"

"Uh, sure"

You start to strum the guitar and begin to sing.

A long, long time ago I can still remember how that music Used to make me smile And I knew if I had my chance That I could make those people dance And maybe they'd be happy for a while

But February made me shiver With every paper I'd deliver Bad news on the doorstep I couldn't take one more step I can't remember if I cried When I read about his widowed bride Something touched me deep inside The day the music died

Natasha immediately recognised the song and closed her eyes, listening to it and remembering Yelena.

So, bye-bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye Singin', "This'll be the day that I die This'll be the day that I die"

Did you write the book of love? And do you have faith in God above If the Bible tells you so? Now, do you believe in rock 'n' roll? Can music save your mortal soul? And can you teach me how to dance real slow? Well, I know that you're in love with him 'Cause I saw you dancin' in the gym You both kicked off your shoes Man, I dig those rhythm and blues I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck With a pink carnation and a pickup truck But I knew I was out of luck The day the music died

I started singin', bye-bye, Miss American Pie Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry Them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye And singin', "This'll be the day that I die This'll be the day that I die"

You looked up to see Natasha crying and you stopped immediately.

"I'm sorry, I thought you'd like it"

"No, I do. I just miss Yelena and whenever I heard that song I think of her"

"I shouldn't have played it, I was insensitive"

"Krolik, you were trying to do something nice and I really appreciate it, don't feel bad about that"

You walked over to her and wrapped your arms around her, enveloping her in a soft, warm hug. She wept in your arms for a while, finally letting herself miss her sister.

That day pushed you over the edge. You knew you had a crush on Nat but that's all you thought it was, a little crush. But holding her in your arms as she laid all of her feelings on you, trusting you with them, with herself, that changed everything. You couldn't deny it any longer, you were in love with her. You were so in love with her it hurt. You were at that stage, the stage where if she smiled you smiled and if she hurt you hurt. You wished you didn't feel like this, you hoped, begged and prayed that these feelings would go away but you still loved her.

You knew that you couldn't literally run from your problems but going for a long run was the only way you could think of to clear your head. You often went for midnight runs, they made you feel alive. You could feel your blood, you could feel it pumping through you, through your big dumb heart. You just kept running and before you knew it, hours had passed. You made your way back to the cabin and you flipped onto your bed. You felt defeated, like somehow running didn't get rid of your feelings. You laid there for a while, still not being able to sleep. You turned over and saw that old guitar you had found in the attic. You walked over and took it in your arms, brushing your fingers along the strings. You didn't know what was happening exactly, it was almost like the melody was coming from within you. It was like your were pouring your heart and soul into the notes and it was helping. Not by a huge amount but it was like a small part of the weight on your shoulders was lifting, so you kept playing. After a while you sang, not much just....something.

When Nat woke up she walked past your room and heard you. She just stood in the doorway, watching you and listening to you, listening to your beautiful voice.

I know this smile That's on my face I know this feeling I know this place

I know it well 'cause I've been here before But this time I'm lookin for so much more Gotta let out gotta let you know Oh oh oh

That I've got a little crush on you And I could let it go but I don't want too I lose control when we're together I wanna kiss you, hug you, touch you, love you, caress you I'm totally obsessed with you Let's turn this crush into forever Into forever yeah

I know this look That's in my eyes Givin' out my secret It's no surprise

That I've been walking on air for quite some time With a strong ambition to make you mine Gotta let it out Gotta let you know Oh oh oh

That I've got a little crush on you And I could let it go but I don't want too I lose control when we're together Oh I wanna kiss you, hug you, touch you, love you, caress you I'm totally obsessed with you Let's turn this crush into forever Into forever yeah

I wanna kiss you I wanna hug you I wanna touch you Baby let me love you

And I got a little crush on you And I could let it go but I don't want too I lose control when we're together Hey I wanna kiss you, hug you, touch you, love you, caress you I'm totally obsessed with you Let's turn this crush into forever

I wanna kiss you, hug you, touch you, love you, caress you I'm totally obsessed with you Let's turn this crush into forever Into forever yeah

You looked up from the instrument in your hands and saw the morning light peeking through the curtains. You stood up and turned around to see Nat, who upon seeing you, started to fumble and blush.

"Oh uh, hey" She barely spoke above a whisper.

"Morning Nat, what um, what are you doing here?" You asked, rubbing the back of your neck anxiously.

"Nothing, just, walking past"

"So you didn't happen to, hear anything?"

"No, nothing at all"

"Oh, good. I mean not good, not bad either, I-I-I just mean there was nothing to hear"

"And I didn't hear it"

"Right"

"Okay"

Nat scurried off to the kitchen, trying to flee from what was very possibly the most awkward conversation in human history. You knew she heard you, how could she not? She was probably just being nice, sparing your feelings by ignoring the situation. But in doing that she ignored you. She avoided you for days and you thought you'd ruined the only true friendship you had ever had. She told you she had to leave for a few days and as much as you wanted to, you didn't argue with her.

You heard a loud, windy noise outside and you peered through the window to see a jet landing in front of your cabin. You thought that the government had finally found you but then you saw Natasha step out with short blonde hair, that was her, wasn't it? You opened the door and went to see her.

"Changed your hair?"

"Yeah, you like it?"

"Yep, suits you"

"Thanks"

"So, what's the deal with that?" You ask, pointing to the jet behind her.

"We're gonna go and pick up some friends, that is, if you'll come?"

"Course I will, I didn't think you'd want me"

"I always do, you know that"

You just look at each other for a few minutes with soft smiles on your faces, both of you choosing to ignore what had happened before she left.

"Do I need to pack a bag?"

"Probably just a change of clothes and some weapons"

"Sweet" You walked back up to the door and reached a hand inside, pulling out a black duffel bag "Let's go"

"You keep one of those by the door too?"

"And under the bed"

"You're more like me than I thought"

"You're more like me than I thought"

She just looked at you and smiled as you walked to the jet.

"Nat?"

"Yeah?"

"Was that explosion on the news you?"

"Yeah"

"Bitch"

"What?"

"You know I love explosions, you should've invited me"

"Next time, Krolik"

You boarded the jet and flew off to get your friends. Together.

You dropped Clint and Scott off with their families and Wanda with Vision. You and Nat brought Steve and Sam back to the cabin.

"If I had known you were loaded I would've kissed up to you a lot more" Sam said as he walked through the door.

"Don't think you could, you'd have to stop kissing Steve's ass for a second and I don't think that's possible"

"Damn, how long have you been saving that one up for?"

"A while"

"You have a very lovely home" Steve said as he turned to you.

"It's not really mine"

"What do you mean?"

"I killed a bunch of nuns and took their house"

"What?! You killed nuns?!"

"No but that never gets old. It was my aunt's, she died"

"Oh, I'm sorry"

"Pigeon Boy, your room is down here"

"Come on! At least say Pigeon Man"

"No chance, Steve, your on the left"

"Oh you just did that to piss me off" Sam retorted.

"Why Samuel, whatever do you mean?" You asked in a faux innocent tone.

"You know"

"Why don't we just settle in?" Steve asked.

"Go, I'll get started on dinner"

"You can cook?"

"Yeah, a hell of a lot better than you, too"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah"

"Just go to your room Wilson" Nat said, in an already tired tone.

The boys got settled in their rooms and you went through every recipe book you had, trying to find the best thing you could make to prove Sam wrong. You cooked a beautiful meal, which Sam reluctantly admitted and you all went to bed. You were able to get some sleep but still not much.

You enjoyed spending all of that down time with the others, it was nice to have people around, you had forgotten what it was like. Except in the mornings, then you hated it. Sam always took really long showers and rarely left any hot water so you had to get up way too early if you wanted to have one and you forgot how many punching bags Steve went through, literally.

There was still a lot that was left unsaid and a lot of tension hanging over you all so you decided to fix that. You were never one for sharing your feelings so you picked the best thing you could think of to break the ice. Alcohol. You drove to the liquor store in town and loaded up with plenty of vodka and beer.

"Alright" You said as you placed a bottle of vodka and four shot glasses on the table "Drink up"

"Why do you want us to drink? And why are there four glasses, I can't get drunk" Steve questioned while Sam and Nat started pouring.

"We are drinking to loosen up and yes, you can get drunk" You answered as you pulled a small vial out of your pocket "Asgardian liquor, I got some off Thor last time he was here"

"He just gave it to you? He wouldn't give any to me" Sam muttered the last part.

"He said, and I quote "As you are the only mortal I trust to be responsible with it, here, some of the finest liquor in all of Asgard!" You accentuated the last part.

"He really said you were the only one he trusted?"

"I quoted"

Sam grumbled a little to himself and downed a shot "Holy shit! What is this, lighter fluid?"

You and Natasha both yelled out "Language!" and laughed.

"That was like 2 years ago guys" Steve moaned.

"We know" Nat quipped.

You continued to drink for a while and you started off with simple questions, testing the water.

"Best fight?" Sam asked.

"I've gotta say, the time I knocked Captain America on his ass" You looked to Steve with a big grin.

"Well I've got ya beat"

"Oh do tell"

"I punched Hitler"

"What?! Why don't they put that in the museums?!" You blurted.

"Well I think we've established a clear winner" Nat awarded.

"Thank you, thank you, you're too kind" Steve bowed like he was accepting an award.

"Kay, how about, biggest regret?"

"Damn, Sam. Getting kinda dark" Nat said.

"Leaving Peggy and Bucky" Steve almost whispered into his glass.

You scoot closer to him and pat a hand on his shoulder "You did what you had to and you didn't know about him"

"Mm, still"

Natasha looked at you, showing comfort and compassion to a man you had resentful feelings for not too long ago and she thought about one of her regrets. She thought about that day she heard you singing about a crush, she thought about how much she wished you were singing about her. She poured a shot and downed before pouring another.

Seeing how sad it made Steve to think about Peggy you thought about your biggest regret and in your alcohol fuelled haze you stood up and walked over to Natasha. You leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss, soft and sweet while you were full of nerves. You pulled away and Nat looked up to you, her lips slightly parted as she was still in shock.

"Finally" Sam leaned over to Steve and whispered.

"I'm sor-

Nat's lips against yours shut you right up. Your mouths moved together in perfect synchronicity, tongues fighting and teeth clashing. You broke apart, gasping for air and you took her hand in yours, guiding her to your room.

"Goodnight?" Sam asked, sarcastically confused.

As soon as you entered your room you threw the door shut and pressed Nat up against it. "You sure?" You asked, your breath hot against her face, reassuring her that she was certain.

She looked up at you through thick lashes, her eyes glowing as she nodded yes. You swear you stopped breathing for a moment, the moment you leaned in. You had just kissed her but this felt...real. Your face gradually approached hers, your gaze flickering from her eyes to her lips. Her beautiful pink lips that you now knew tasted sweeter than you ever could've imagined. Your mouths moulded together as if you were once one perfect being, only now finding each other again. Your hand cradled the back of her head and her palm slid up your arm and up to your face. Her thumb gently grazed along your cheek making you quiver. Your other hand was pressing into her side, not too hard but hard enough that she felt it. You walked over to the bed, not breaking apart for a second. She leaned back against the pillows and pulled you with her. You hovered over her, kissing her deeply and moving slowly with her. Your lips moved further down, sucking and kissing and biting purple marks all over the soft slope of her neck. You pulled her shirt off along with your own and tossed them to the side. Your fingers toyed with her bra clasp, teasing her. She writhed under you, you weren't sure if she was trying to get her bra off or to feel some kind of friction, either way you loved it. She let out a soft whimper, the sound boring through you. You bit her lip for making such tantalising sounds. You re-positioned yourself and set to work on making her feel more than she ever had before, you had a very interesting night ahead of you.

You woke up with her in your arms, she looked angelic. He hair fell across her face, her lips parted as she slept and she was illuminated in a beautiful golden hue. Your hand brushed a few strands of hair out of her face and you leaned down to kiss her. You felt her lips moving back against yours, notifying you that she was awake.

"Good morning"

"Mmm, morning Krolik"

"Last night was"

"Amazing"

"Yes it was"

You laid together for a while, taking comfort in each other's warm embrace.

"You know" She started, somewhat unsure "I did hear you, singing. It was beautiful"

"It was about you"

"It was?"

You laughed quietly "Who else?"

She just stared up at you smiling, God how she loved you "Well then what do you say?"

"To what?"

"Do you want to turn this crush into forever?"

"Nothing would make me happier"

Tags:

@impetusofadream @goldfishthegr8 @avengers-official-recruit-agent @goreygirl03 @xenasolos @sparklyturtlefox @rios-sythe @nekoannie-chan @ilovemarvel12 @hayneyney @n3ponen @8812-342 @everyonesfriend @pinkthick @craftytacopiecash @meryuniverse @aliljaybird @yelldontwhisper @justhereforthememesnangst @lonely-core

[kaicha05]

Little Rabbit, Big Wolf

The forest was unusually quiet, blanketed in a stillness that made Stiles nervous. He clutched the bouquet of wildflowers tighter in his hands, their bright colors a sharp contrast against the dark, gnarled trees around him.

“Just deliver the flowers, Stiles,” he muttered to himself. “A quick thank-you for saving your butt from that rogue hunter last week, and you’re out of here.”

But his pep talk did little to calm the tremor in his hands or the racing of his heart. It wasn’t every day he visited the Hale territory—especially when the Hale in question was Derek, the big bad alpha who had glared at him like he was an annoying fly more times than Stiles could count.

Still, Derek had saved him. That had to mean something, right?

A low growl rumbled behind him, and Stiles froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned his head to see a massive, dark-furred wolf emerging from the shadows. Derek. His glowing eyes locked onto Stiles, sharp teeth bared in a snarl. The wildflowers shook in Stiles’ trembling hands.

“Uh, hi?” Stiles squeaked, his voice cracking. “I brought flowers. For you. You know, as a thank-you? For, uh, not letting me die?”

The wolf didn’t respond—because, obviously, wolves didn’t talk—but he did take a step closer, his claws sinking into the soft earth. Stiles swallowed hard and held out the flowers as a peace offering, his arm shaking under Derek’s intense gaze.

Derek sniffed the air, his growl tapering off into silence. Slowly, he shifted, his massive form shrinking until he was back in his human skin. The flowers looked ridiculously small in Stiles’ outstretched hand as Derek’s piercing green eyes bore into his.

“You came here alone?” Derek asked, his voice rough but quieter than Stiles expected.

“Uh, yeah. Why? Is that a bad thing?” Stiles asked, forcing a nervous laugh.

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “It’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be wandering around here.”

Stiles shrugged, trying to mask his nerves. “Well, I figured the guy who saved me from a hunter wouldn’t let me get eaten by, I don’t know, a mountain lion or something.

Derek’s lips twitched—almost like he wanted to smile but didn’t know how. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot.” Stiles pushed the flowers into Derek’s hands, ignoring how small they looked compared to Derek’s broad palms. “Here. Thanks for not letting me die.”

Derek stared at the flowers for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to Stiles’ surprise, he brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply.

“These are… nice,” Derek said awkwardly, his voice soft.

Stiles blinked. “Did you just—did you just boop them?”

Derek’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“You booped the flowers,” Stiles repeated, grinning now. “I didn’t know big scary alphas could do that.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but his cheeks tinted pink. He shoved the flowers back into Stiles’ chest, his touch unexpectedly gentle. “Shut up, Stiles.”

“Make me,” Stiles shot back without thinking.

For a moment, Derek just stared at him, and Stiles braced himself for a snarky retort—or maybe a growl. Instead, Derek leaned in, pressing his forehead against Stiles’ in a gesture so tender it stole the breath from Stiles’ lungs.

“Don’t come here alone again,” Derek murmured, his voice low and rough.

“Okay,” Stiles whispered, his heart pounding. “But only if you promise to keep me alive next time I do something stupid.”

Derek pulled back, his lips twitching again. “Deal.”

As Stiles turned to leave, Derek shifted back into his wolf form, his tail wagging slightly as he followed Stiles to the edge of the territory. Stiles glanced back once, catching the soft look in Derek’s eyes and the faintest hint of a smile on his wolfish face.

Maybe the big bad alpha wasn’t so scary after all.

[neerons]

Some of Ikémen Prince Emma's best quotes + Akatsuki's bonus quotes

"The day's barely started, but I want to go back to bed already." (—Emma's thoughts)

"I'm putting on the best performance of my life here, and you're turning this into the worst melodrama I've ever seen!" (—Emma's thoughts about her made-up romantic relationship with Clavis)

"I don't know what to do. Why can't I be like the heroine in one of my stories, able to outwit everyone no matter how clever they are?" (—Emma's thoughts)

"I didn't, did I? Please tell me I didn't. Oh god, what was I thinking? Why would I throw myself at a sleaze like you?" (—Emma's thoughts about Nokto)

"Ooooh, if I could strangle you right now, I would!" (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"So... we have a prince that likes blowing up the palace and no one cares?!" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis)

"I could feel Chevalier's cold, silent stare, and that was somehow worse than anything he could have said." (—Emma's thoughts)

"You mean between Sariel's hellish lessons or your adoration? You're right, it's blindingly obvious which is better. Thanks, Sariel, I can hardly wait!" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis)

"Take this! Bunny... Kick!" (—Emma trying to kick Gilbert, as a bunny)

"Don't tell me one of his business deals failed? Or maybe he stubbed his toe on something? Or hit his fat head on a doorframe?" (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"Honey: 1. Luke's dignity: 0..." (—Emma's thoughts)

"You have no problem invading my privacy and coming in here whenever you please, but you think it's fine to threaten me because I did the same to you?" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis coming into her bedroom)

"I went on staring at him, trying to decide whether it was worth it to punch him or not." (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"If you let down your guard just because I'm a little rabbit, you might be the one who regrets it in the end." (—Emma to Gilbert)

"Could you get your face out of my face?" (—Emma to Silvio)

"Ahhh, why do you insist on acting the villain when there's not a single thing villainous about you?!" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis)

"I slowly lowered my head onto his lap as though it might turn into a bed of knives at any second. (...) I realized I was laying on what were possibly the most deadly thighs in the world." (—Emma's thoughts about Gilbert)

"I am SO close to punching this guy." (—Emma's thoughts about Nokto)

"Some people would call that a book..." (—Emma referring to Rio's love letter)

"I know you hate it when I call you adorable, but... you really are adorable right now." (—Emma's thoughts about drunk Licht)

"...Instead of grabbing hold of me, have you considered maybe wearing warmer clothing?" (—Emma to Gilbert)

"Who in their right mind could have imagined that I'd be dragged into his bed and pounced on almost every morning?" (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"His Highness... stole my first time." (—Emma talking about Silvio to the King of Benitoite)

"Wow. He said something sensible for once." (—Emma's thoughts about Nokto)

"I didn't have his strength, but I had fingernails, and I made sure they dug in deep." (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"I'm not going to let you have your way about anything and everything just because you were born important." (—Emma to Gilbert)

"PLEASE SHUT UP NOW." (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis misleading everyone about their relationship)

"No, it's fine, really, please take your time... Take all the time you need!" (—Emma to Gilbert telling her he won't be able to spend time with her that day)

"I always thought you were pretty overprotective, Rio, but I take it back—you've got nothing on Silvio!" (—Emma's thoughts)

"Would it be strange if I said I was relieved that the man I love is so intimidating to other men?" (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"He'd leapt so cheerfully into the pit that I was pretty certain I'd be traumatized for the rest of my life by the flamboyant way he'd hit the bottom." (—Emma's thoughts about seeing Gilbert fall into Clavis' trap voluntarily)

"If we ever actually find you, Clavis, I have about a million things I want to say to you, and none of them are polite..." (—Emma's thoughts)

"If you live for me, I'll stay with you, forever. I'll never leave you alone, ever again. Don't you want to find more ways to have fun with me?" (—Emma to Gilbert)

"He's hard enough to approach when he's fully awake, I can't imagine what he's like first thing in the morning!" (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"You're lucky that I still want you even after you call me soft and silly and say my heartfelt declaration is 'embarrassing crap'. Silvio... take me."

"I couldn't help reaching out and squeezing his upper arm, just to see how it felt." (—Emma's thoughts about Gilbert)

"(...) I know you can be cold and ruthless, but you always make me feel more sure of myself." (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"This man invented a bizarre device to keep me cool, covered me up to protect my modesty... And now he's drying me off so I don't catch a cold. He's the sweetest person in the whole world, and I—" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis)

"Gilbert can really make anything he puts his mind to. I mean, how many gunsmiths are also fashion designers?" (—Emma's thoughts)

"Oh, boy. Here comes Drama Queen Gilbert. (...) And here comes Sulky Gilbert." (—Emma's thoughts)

"I hope he comes back soon... ...Or just... never." (—Emma talking about Silvio to Rio)

"You're all good, kind men, and I know you'll never become the sort of corrupt, tyrannical rulers that Gilbert hates so much." (—Emma's thoughts about all the Rhodolitian princes)

"Okay, I admit that writing him letters in a language only the two of us know IS pretty romantic. But to think that people would assume I'm writing dirty things to him because of that..." (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"'By the time you'll be reading this, I'll be gone'...? Did you... Did you have to write something so cliched?" (—Emma reading Gilbert's letter)

"Nokto? Stop talking. You're only digging yourself into an even deeper hole."

"I can't see much with that hood in the way, but I can still tell you're exasperated. ...You know, I think we're going to become good friends..." (—Emma's thoughts about Roderic)

"He was the perfect prince... so long as he didn't actually talk." (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"So he wants a kiss, huh? I think he's actually looking for more than that, but let's make him work for it." (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"I guess he means me...? What an ass." (—Emma's thoughts about an auction manager calling her a 'fine article')

"If you're asking stupid questions, expect a stupid answer. That's all I'm saying." (—Emma to Nokto)

"Is it just me, or has his expression softened a tiny, tiny, TINY bit?" (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"He was like a tyrannical villain from one of my books, flashy and loud and pompous, and a part of me wished he'd go back to whatever book he'd come from." (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"It's like every time I think something positive about you, you find a way to ruin it immediatly." (—Emma's thoughts about Nokto)

Akatsuki's bonus quotes:

"Kill him." (—Akatsuki replying to Rio asking him what he intends to do to Gilbert)

"How dare he do something so shameless to my daughter, in front of a crowd like that..." (—Akatsuki talking about Gilbert)

"(...) when your vacation is over, you will return to your duties. (...) And I know someone as earnest as you would never do anything to breach a contract like that. ...I will come for you. So it's just until then. Got it? (—Akatsuki telling Emma he'll come save her from Obsidian)

"I'm not your father." (—Akatsuki to Emma)

"...I did not tell you stories about Emma so that you could make her your wife." (—Akatsuki to Gilbert)

"...I'll stop by to check on you regularly. If something happens to my daughter, I'll kill you." (—Akatsuki talking about Emma to Gilbert)

"She may not be my real daughter, but I'd never let a man I don't know near my valued worker." (—Akatsuki to Rio)

"They're for Emma. I collected them from all over the world in order to handle any sort of injury or illness." (—Akatsuki talking about his medicinal herbs to Rio)

"If even a single hair on her head is harmed, I'll never let you see my daughter again." (—Akatsuki to Rio)

"Your potential is limitless. It would be a shame for you to be confined here. (—Akatsuki talking about the bookstore to Emma)

[world-of-fantasies]

"Ain't So Bad"

Words: 1578

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x FemReader

Time: Atlanta Camp

Warnings: language, weapons

Summary: When you start sitting with Daryl every night in the camp, and he doesn't push you away, you ask him to teach you to shoot a bow. Soon, you realize a new friendship is developing.

A/N: Hi! This is my first post ever after lurking through different fandoms and pages! This is just a cute little scenario and I hope someone can enjoy it!

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

It was hard to believe the outbreak had been going on for a little over a month now. In just that short amount of time it had transformed from a peaceful visit of your cousin Rick and his family before he was shot in a car chase and then the world went to shit. You were luckier than most though as you were with Lori and Carl when the evacuation happened and had stayed with them ever since. Most of the others you had found on the highway outside of Atlanta were civil enough and you mostly trusted them in camp. Some not so much but you tried to get along.

The one person who hadn’t bonded with everyone as much, choosing to sit alone most of the time, was Daryl. He provided for the camp in many ways, always the one to go into the woods with his crossbow and shoot down a rabbit, a squirrel, anything he could find. When it came to camp though, he was very reserved.

It wasn’t like you were trying to get him to open up, but you didn’t see him like everybody else did. Sometimes it seemed like people intentionally were opposed to connecting with him, his rough personality turning them away. You saw his protective nature of the group and recognized he had had a rough life so far. You were one of the quieter ones in camp, but tried your best to be friendly, always helping stoke the fire when it got chilly at night, learning to skin and cook the animals people brought back, and helping out with the laundry, although that was something some of the men forced all the women to do anyways. You especially looked out for the kids, telling them stories and playing little games to keep them entertained.

Before long, you found yourself beginning to drift toward Daryl though. Every night he would sit on a big slab of rock overlooking the quarry, cleaning up his bow or sharpening a knife, sometimes just staring out into the distance. The man intrigued you and one night you built up the courage to sit close by, pulling your knees to your chest and looking out into the night.

“What you want?” his gruff voice called after a minute.

You glanced over to see him looking at you questionably.

“Nothing, just wanted to sit here,” you responded with a sigh. “Get some air away from everyone else.”

He simply huffed and went back to his weapon, but didn’t tell you to leave so you stayed there, thinking about life.

Night after night it became a habit to find yourself next to the man. He never seemed opposed to it so you never stopped. One night, as he was checking his bow, you spoke up about the weapon.

“How’d you learn?” you shyly asked.

“Learn what?” he questioned.

“To shoot. I always wanted to learn how to use a bow and arrow when I was younger, regretting never actually going through with it now.”

He made a sound that sounded like a scoff, but had a hint of a laugh before turning to show you the tool.

“Jus practice. Buildin’ up strength and accuracy to shoot straight. Ain’t difficult once ya know basics.”

“Cool. Maybe one of these days you could teach me,” you said, not really thinking about it before catching his eye. “I mean, only if ya wanted to, was just curious.”

“Nah, ya good. Could tag along t’morrow if ya want.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He actually agreed. You felt a moment of butterflies imagining him close to you teaching you to shoot before pushing them down. The man wasn’t bad looking at all, at least in your eyes. He wasn’t the stereotypical attractive type, but there was something about him that you were drawn to, more than just his company.

“Only if you’re sure.”

“Why not? It’d be good for ya to learn it now, jus in case ya need to use it.”

Sure enough the next day, Daryl caught your eye before heading out to the forest and casually asked, “You com’n or wha?”

You quickly put down whatever random thing you were doing and followed him into the woods. It was easy to notice how at ease he felt in the forest despite his constant tracking for the new threat of… What were people calling them again?... oh right, walkers. Suddenly, caught up in your thoughts of the man you deemed more attractive every day, you stepped on a branch causing a slight snap to be heard through the air.

“Shit, sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s fine, jus watch your step, alright?”

You nodded and continued to follow him through the trees, now more aware of your steps and surroundings. After a few minutes, Daryl stopped ahead of you in a small clearing and took his crossbow off his shoulder as well as taking the normal bow to hold out to you. A bit shyly, you grabbed the weapon, feeling the light weight of it. As you tested the feel of the bow, Daryl grabbed his knife and walked over to a large tree across from you guys, using the blade to chip off the bark on the tree to show a lighter spot in the rough shape of a circle before walking back over to you.

“K,” he started, taking the bow from you to demonstrate. “Load it like this,” he explained and continued to show you each step of setting it up and aiming properly before letting it go, the arrow landing pretty much in the center of the circle.

“Wow,” you whispered under your breath.

“Your turn,” he explained, handing it to you.

Carefully, you tried to set it up just like how he had shown you just seconds ago. You set your stance similar to how he had and aimed at your target, pulling back the string. Softly, you took a deep breath and released, the arrow surprisingly landing, not on the mark, but still on the tree not terribly far off.

Daryl grunted beside you before saying, “You sure you ain’t learn this before?”

“Lucky shot probably,” you said, looking down at your feet.

“Nah, that ain’t bad. Yer stronger than ya seem. Yer a natural, just narrow in on aim. Load it up again.”

Nodding, you loaded it again and raised it up, but before you could do anything else, suddenly Daryl was stepping up behind you. His arms wrapped around you to adjust your hold slightly and you could only hope he couldn’t feel your breath pick up as he did.

“There, pull back,” he said, putting his hand on yours on the string to help you pull slightly harder, “And release.”

This time the arrow landed just outside the circle.

“Good. Yer learnin’ already.”

All you could do was nod, too nervous to speak, feeling butterflies in your stomach and a lump in your throat. Daryl had you try a couple more times and each time you did just as well, if not better. Before you guys headed back, Daryl let you tag along to find something to cook on the fire, occasionally speaking but mostly in comfortable silence.

Later that night, after the group dined on slightly burnt rabbit, you walked over to your usual evening spot next to Daryl overlooking the quarry and sat down on your normal rock. Surprisingly, he spoke first, just a couple seconds after you sat.

“Ya did good today, with the bow.”

“Oh, thanks. I had a good teacher,” you slightly smiled, shrugging your shoulders.

“Nah, like I said before, yer a natural.”

Some time passed between you two as the sun finally set behind the hills, the late evening light creeping in.  Then you started thinking about why. Why had Daryl agreed to teach you today? You imagined if anyone else had asked him like you had. You knew he probably would’ve told them to go away in the first place, wanting to sit in silence. If they had gotten to the point of asking, he probably would’ve told them to go away again or tell them to ask one of the other guys. So why was he okay with you?

“Daryl?” you suddenly asked in a quiet manner.

“Huh?” he grunted.

“Why do you let me sit with you? Why’d you teach me today?”

“What do ya mean?” he asked, putting down his knife to look at you properly.

“I mean, you’re always so independent, pushing anyone away if they try to get close to you in camp. But you haven’t pushed me away. I’ve sat here with you almost every night and then you casually taught me to shoot today. Why me out of anyone else here in camp?”

Embarrassed by your little rant, you caught his gaze briefly before turning slightly and tucking your knees into you as the silence lingered for just a bit.

“Ain’t so bad,” he responded.

“What?” you asked confused.

“Yer company. It ain’t so bad. Yer not like everyone else.”

And that was that. He looked away, not out of embarrassment or anything, but he was just done with the conversation, picking up his knife again and whittling away at the piece of wood he had. You smiled to yourself, tracing your finger along a rough spot on the rock. Daryl Dixon was warming up, at least to you, and you didn’t mind it one bit.

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Nicky: Mother why do you carry a knife?

Rio realising she didn’t hide it when she came in: Oh! Erm my job you know? I might need to open a box or cut some ribbon….maybe shut up a soul that doesn’t want to move on

Nicky: Oh okay, mama said you use it to harm people

Rio:….she did?

Nicky nods: And you used it on mama once too to hurt her but it’s okay because she said you didn’t mean it

Rio blushing: Nicky honey who told you this? Was it mama?

Nicky nodding: She was talking to her friends and grandma lilia asked her about you and they were drinking that juice that makes them act silly

Rio realising: oh okay, thanks for telling me baby, how about you go and put scratchy away and I’ll go and talk to mama about her being silly

Nicky running off to find his rabbit

Agatha coming out of the kitchen looking down after hearing the whole conversation

Rio: Have something to say mi amour?

Agatha: In my defence lilia brought the wine, and you know how wine makes me

Rio: Either horny or talkative

Agatha: Exactly! So be thankful I just talked about you and didn’t start walking around naked trying to find you for help

Rio: Why am I the more mature one here?

Agatha shrugs: You’re billions of years old, of course you’re the more mature one