#ik he's dead maybe he can come back

[prodigalsam]

layne staley... save me

layne staley

save me layne staley

[inseobts]

hiiii!! i LOVE ur fics so mucchh and lowkey felt shy to dump my very vivid and detailed request lmao 🤣 i just thought of a random blurb bc i’m in my feels from reading angst and hurt/comfort, but can you do a fic of angst (ending happy/fluff) with ace x y/n? y/n and him are together on whitebeard’s crew and they got into an argument and stuff when they landed on an island to get supplies and chaos erupts when the marines arrive. their argument hasn’t been resolved but everyone is obviously occupied in getting back to the ship and fighting to escape. ANYWAYS y/n was actually their target and captured her bc she is actually a powerful fighter with a fruit that could be useful to them (idk u pick lol something that’s important as robin-level where it’s vital they retrieve her like idk her fruit can read any script i.e. poneglyphs yadda yadda). and then when the crew depart and do a headcount they realize one member is missing (womp womp) and ace gonna go FERAL to get her back and digging that knife of regret of saying hurtful things during their unresolved argument and cutscene to y/n getting beat tf up like how robin was beat up in water 7 from that mf spandam when imprisoned. OUHHH AND IMAGINE ACE’S REACTION WHEN HE SEES THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE ALMOST DEAD TO A PULP AND COMMITS ARSON and ends happily with y/n back and recovering and them finally resolving their arguement (cue: fluff). tl:dr basically an ace x y/n centered fic in a water 7-type scenario. IM A VERY ACTIVE MALADAPTIVE DAYDREAMER AND I NEED TO BE FED (tysm if u take on this request lmao ik it’s so detailed i hope it’s not too much i’m just itching for more one piece fics and i love ur work) 😭🫶🏼

Embers of Regret

portgas d. ace x reader

a/n: the more detailed a request is, the easier it is to write the fanfic, so don't worry—I actually appreciate it a lot! \^o^/

words count: 4.7k

tags: violence, romance, angst to fluff

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“You never think, Ace!”

“And you never let things go!”

The argument has been boiling for days, maybe even weeks, but now it’s all spilling over in the middle of the town square, where the crew is supposed to be stocking up on supplies. The streets are noisy with merchants and villagers, but to you and Ace, it may as well be just the two of you standing here, tearing each other apart.

“You act like nothing matters!” you snap, glaring at him.

Ace crosses his arms, irritation flashing in his dark eyes “And you act like everything does!”

“Because it does!” You throw your hands up “This crew, the people we care about, you—none of it is guaranteed, Ace! But you just charge ahead without thinking, like you’re invincible, like nothing can touch you!”

“I can handle myself” he says, jaw tightening.

You shake your head, frustration clawing at your throat “That’s the problem! You think it’s just about you, but it’s not! We... I care about what happens to you!”

Ace scoffs “Right. Because you love worrying so damn much. Maybe you should focus on your own fights instead of wasting time on mine.”

The words cut deep as your breath catches.

You shake your head, frustration boiling over “You act like nothing can touch you... but newsflash, Ace, you’re not invincible! One day, you’re gonna get yourself killed, and—”

He scoffs, cutting you off “And what? You’ll cry about it?”

You freeze.

The air shifts.

Ace seems to realize what he just said, but his pride keeps him from taking it back. The damage is done.

You inhale sharply, forcing yourself to push down the sting “Got it,” you say flatly “You don’t need me watching your back or even care about your damn life. Noted.”

Before he can respond, you turn and walk away.

Ace watches you go, his fists clenched. He should call after you. Should apologize. But he doesn’t.

Then the Marines come fast and hard, hitting the town before anyone even realizes what’s happening.

Civilians scatter as armed soldiers flood the streets, and the Whitebeard Pirates instantly snap into battle mode. Marco takes to the skies, Thatch barks orders, and Ace ignites.

He fights like he always does, fast and reckless, flames cutting through the chaos. But his mind keeps drifting, eyes flicking toward the battlefield, searching for you.

He sees you in the distance, fighting off a wave of Marines. You’re holding your own. Of course you are.

And then someone shouts “Retreat to the ship!”

The command echoes through the town, and the crew begins pulling back toward the harbor. Ace doesn’t see you right away, but he assumes you’re moving with the others. You’re strong. You can handle yourself.

He fights. He runs. He gets to the ship.

And he doesn’t notice. Not yet.

The Moby Dick sails away from the island, the battle fading into the distance. Everyone is breathing hard, wounded but alive. The crew takes a moment to regroup, catching their breath, tending to injuries.

Then Marco speaks.

“Alright,” he says, rolling his shoulders “Let’s do a count.”

Ace leans against the railing, arms crossed. His chest is still tight with lingering anger, but he tells himself he’ll talk to you once you’ve both cooled off.

“One, two, three… is anyone missing?” Marco is counting the division commanders first, then working his way through the rest.

The atmosphere is still tense, but there’s relief too. They made it out. Everyone’s here.

Until Marco stops and looks at Ace with a frown.

Ace barely registers it at first, lost in his own thoughts.

Then Marco lifts his head “Where’s Y/N?”

Silence.

The world seems to stop.

Ace’s heart slams against his ribs. His stomach drops.

“I don't know... We had a fight, she's probably just avoiding me?” he says, too sharply.

Marco scans the deck again, his expression darkening “So... she’s not here.”

Ace laughs shortly, disbelieving “What are you talking about? She was fighting, I saw her—”

“And did you see her get on the ship?” Marco’s voice is serious now.

Ace opens his mouth, then stops.

A cold, terrible realization creeps up his spine.

No.

No, he didn’t see you board.

He assumed. He thought you were strong enough to make it back. That once you were safe on the ship you were just avoiding him. That you needed space.

But now...

His hands start shaking.

“Turn the ship around” Ace demands, voice low, dangerous.

Marco’s expression is grim “Ace...”

“TURN THE SHIP AROUND!”

Flames burst from his body, flickering wildly with his panic, his fury at the Marines, at himself.

He left you behind.

He left you.

And if the Marines wanted you enough to set a trap for the whole crew... Ace’s breath catches. His vision blurs with pure, unfiltered rage.

He doesn’t care if he has to burn the entire damn ocean.

He’s getting you back.

Pain.

That’s the first thing you register when you regain consciousness. A deep, searing pain spreading through your body, sharp and unrelenting.

You try to move, but your wrists are bound, shackled in heavy seastone cuffs that sap your strength. Every inch of you aches, bruises blooming across your skin, blood drying where fists and rifle butts had struck you.

The Marines didn’t go easy on you.

“You’re awake.”

A voice.

You lift your head, forcing your swollen eyes open. A high-ranking Marine stands in front of you, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“You’re quite the prize,” he muses “A rare Devil Fruit ability, strong enough to stand alongside Whitebeard’s division commanders… No wonder they keep you so close.”

You glare, lips cracked, but you manage to spit out, “Go to hell.”

The Marine smirks “I think you misunderstand your situation.” He steps closer, his shadow stretching over you “The World Government has big plans for you, Y/N. You have two choices: cooperate… or break.”

You bare your teeth, eyes burning with defiance “Screw your choices.”

The Marine sighs like he expected that answer. Then his fist collides with your ribs, hard enough to make you choke on the pain.

You don’t scream. You won’t give them the satisfaction. But deep down, there’s a gnawing fear.

Where is Ace?

Does he even know you’re gone?

Or did he leave you behind without a second thought?

Aboard the Moby Dick, Ace has never felt this kind of terror before. Not when he faced death, not when he fought impossible odds.

But now that he knows you are out there, captured, hurt, alone… It’s unbearable.

The moment Marco looks everywhere on the ship and then confirms you’re missing, Ace doesn’t hesitate. His flames surge, wild and desperate, as he grips the ship’s railing “We turn back now.”

“Ace!”

“NOW!” His voice cracks, his body trembling.

Marco exhales, sharp and frustrated “You think we don’t want to?! The Marines planned this... if we storm in recklessly, we could lose more than just Y/N.”

Ace knows that. He knows.

But all he can think about is the last thing he said to you. The way your face had twisted in pain before you walked away.

The regret is suffocating.

“Then tell me where they took her,” he growls “I’ll go alone if I have to.”

A heavy pause.

Then a voice cuts through the tension “We’re not leaving her.”

Ace turns. Whitebeard stands at the helm, his expression unreadable “She’s family,” he says simply “And we don’t abandon family.”

Ace’s breath shudders.

They’re going back.

He’s getting you back and nothing in the world will stop him.

Your head throbs. Your body is battered. The seastone cuffs burn against your skin, draining your strength, making every breath feel heavier.

Time is a blur, hours, maybe days, lost between moments of pain and exhaustion. But you refuse to break. Even when they strike you. Even when they try to force your cooperation. Because if there’s one thing they’ll never take from you it’s your will.

Footsteps echo down the corridor. A different Marine this time, younger, hesitant. He kneels in front of you, his voice low “I don’t know if you can still hear me,” he mutters “But Portgas D. Ace?”

Your heart stops.

He leans in, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard “He’s coming for you.”

A weak, broken breath escapes you.

Ace.

The Marine shifts uncomfortably and mutters “Looks like he's ready to burn the world down.”

You close your eyes.

And for the first time since you were captured, hope flickers in your chest.

Ace is coming, and he’s bringing hell with him.

Later on the Marine base is eerily quiet, the dim torchlight casting long shadows against the damp stone walls. Somewhere outside, the sound of crashing waves echoes, but inside your cell, there is only the distant clatter of boots and the dull throbbing of your wounds.

You’re too exhausted to keep your head up, but you force yourself to stay conscious. Every second you stay awake is a second they don’t win.

Then the door creaks open again.

“Still alive?”

You barely react, but the voice isn’t one you recognize.

Another Marine, older this time. Not the usual guards. His uniform is crisp, and his presence carries an air of authority. He steps closer, hands behind his back, looking down at you like you’re some rare specimen.

“You’re lucky, you know,” he says casually “Most pirates we capture don’t get this much attention.”

You don’t answer. You don’t have the strength to waste on his games.

“You’re valuable,” he continues “And I’m not just talking about your affiliation with Whitebeard.” His sharp eyes scan your injuries, as if calculating how much more you can endure “Your Devil Fruit, that’s what the higher-ups are interested in.”

You don’t flinch, but inside, your stomach knots.

Of course. Your ability to manipulate minds with a single command. A fruit so rare, so dangerous, that in the wrong hands, it could change the tides of war. Or worse.

“Imagine what we could do,” the Marine muses “With just one word, you could make entire enemy fleets surrender. You could make criminals confess. You could turn Yonko commanders against their own crews.” He kneels in front of you, voice dropping lower “Or you could make Whitebeard himself bow.”

Your jaw tightens.

They don’t just want to use you.

They want to turn you into a weapon.

For a moment, you don’t say anything. Then, through cracked lips, you force out a bitter laugh.

“You think I’d help you?”

The Marine tilts his head “You will. Eventually.”

Your glare is unwavering “Never.”

“You’ll come around.” he smiles “Or I could just kill you and find the Devil Fruit later on so that I can eat it myself. One way or another. The question is how much pain you’ll endure before you give up or die. Either way we win.”

Then he turns to leave.

“Get some rest,” he says “Tomorrow, we start breaking you properly.”

The door slams shut.

You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the fear creeping in your chest.

They won’t break you. They can’t.

Because Ace is coming, and when he does, this whole damn place is going to burn.

Aboard the Moby Dick, Ace is losing his patience.

It’s been a day since they turned the ship around. A day too long.

He paces the deck like a caged animal, flames flickering around his fingers, jaw clenched so tight it hurts. The crew keeps a careful distance, no one is dumb enough to try and calm him down.

No one can.

He keeps replaying it in his head. The argument. The way you walked away. How he let you.

And now you’re gone.

“Oi, Ace.”

Marco’s voice cuts through his storming thoughts.

Ace turns, his glare sharp, but Marco doesn’t flinch.

“We found the base.”

Everything inside Ace goes still.

“Where?”

Marco tosses him a map, already marked “Marine stronghold, isolated island. Not heavily fortified, but enough of a problem if we’re reckless.” He gives Ace a pointed look “We need to be smart about this.”

Ace grips the map so tightly it crumples “They have her.”

“I know,” Marco says evenly “And we will get her back. But you losing your head won’t help.”

Ace’s fists tremble. He knows Marco’s right, but all he can think about is you, locked in some cell, hurt, alone, and how he left you.

“How soon can we be there?” he demands.

“By sunrise,” Marco says “We’ve got a plan. But Ace...”

Ace looks up, and Marco’s expression is grim.

“You better be ready for what we might find.”

Ace doesn’t hesitate “I don’t care if she’s at death’s door. I’ll bring her home.”

His flames surge brighter, hotter.

He will get you back, and if the Marines think they can keep you than they’ve never seen what happens when fire goes unchecked.

The moment the Moby Dick reaches the Marine base, chaos erupts. The crew descends like a storm. Thatch, Marco, and the others carving a path through the soldiers, clearing the way for Ace.

But Ace barely registers any of it. All he knows is that you’re in there, and he needs to find you.

“Ace!” Marco calls, dodging a Marine’s sword “Stick to the plan!”

But Ace is already breaking away.

He storms through the base, his fists burning, taking out anyone who gets in his way. The halls are a maze, twisting corridors that all look the same, and with every empty cell he passes, his panic tightens like a noose.

Where are you?

His breathing is ragged, flames licking at his skin as his frustration builds. She should be here. You should be here.

He shoves a Marine against the wall, his grip searing into the man’s uniform “Where is she?” Ace growls, his voice sharp with fury.

The soldier screams, thrashing “I—I don’t know!”

Ace snarls and knocks him out cold.

Then he runs.

And runs.

And runs.

But every hallway looks the same. Every door leads to nothing. He’s not finding you.

A new kind of fear claws into his chest, but he knows he can’t think like that. He won’t.

“Ace!”

Marco’s voice.

Then hands gripping his shoulder, yanking him back.

Ace whirls around, flames flaring “What?!”

Marco doesn’t let go. His expression is firm, unwavering “You’re wasting time.”

Ace shoves his arm away “I’m finding her!”

“No, you’re panicking!”

Ace’s breath is uneven, his vision blurred with frustration “She’s not here, Marco!” His voice cracks, desperation leaking through “I don’t—I don’t know where she is!”

Marco’s gaze softens just slightly “Then we regroup.”

Ace shakes his head violently “No.” Every second he isn’t moving is a second you’re suffering, a second too long “You don’t get it—”

Marco grips his collar, dragging him close “I do get it” he says, low and fierce “But if you let yourself fall apart now, we lose her for real.”

Ace stops breathing for a second.

Lose you.

The thought is unbearable.

Marco keeps his hold steady “We will find her. But not like this.”

Ace swallows hard. His body is still shaking, fire curling around his fists but he forces himself to listen. To stop running in circles. To think.

He exhales sharply “Then tell me what to do.”

Marco nods “We need intel. And I know where to get it.”

Pain is a familiar companion now.

You don’t know how long it’s been. Hours? Days?

It doesn’t matter. You’re still here. Still breathing.

Your body is too weak to fight. Your mind too drained to resist. But you keep holding on because you know he’s coming.

Even when the Marines laugh about how the Whitebeard Pirates will never breach the base. Even when they say you’ll be locked away forever.

You know better.

Then a distant explosion. Shouting. Gunfire. And fire.

Your heart lurches.

He’s here, but the door doesn’t open, and the sounds of battle grow further away.

Your stomach twists.

Did something happen?

No. No, you won’t think like that.

You force yourself to move, just slightly, leaning against the cold stone wall. You don’t have much left in you. But if there’s even a small chance, you have to believe Ace will find you. He has to. Because you don’t know how much longer you can last.

“Alright, talk.”

Ace slams the Marine officer against the table, his fire dangerously close to igniting the man’s uniform. Marco stands behind him, arms crossed, while the rest of the Whitebeard Pirates keep the room secure.

The officer trembles, sweat dripping down his forehead “I—I don’t—”

Ace tightens his grip “Wrong answer.”

The flames grow hotter. The Marine yelps, eyes wide with terror “Okay! Okay!”

“Where is she?” Marco demands.

The officer swallows hard “She—she’s in the lower dungeons. Isolated. Special containment.”

Ace’s flames flare. Of course... Seastone.

That’s why he couldn’t find you. Why his Haki wasn’t sensing you.

Ace lets go, and the officer slumps against the chair, gasping for breath.

Then Ace turns and runs.

Your vision is swimming now.

You don’t know how much longer you can hold on.

Then an explosion. Not distant, but actually really close.

And then your cell door is ripped open.

A burst of fire floods the room, bright and blinding. And through the smoke you finally see Ace.

You think you might be dreaming.

Because his face, his expression... he looks destroyed. Like something in him has been broken ever since you disappeared.

Then he’s kneeling in front of you, hands hovering over your battered body like he doesn’t know where to start.

“Y/N.” His voice is raw, barely more than a whisper.

You try to smile “Took you long enough.”

Ace lets out a shaky breath, a laugh, but not really. More like he’s trying to keep himself together.

“Shut up,” he mutters “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

But he doesn’t sound convinced.

His fingers tremble as he undoes the seastone cuffs, his flames immediately warming your ice-cold skin. His touch is so careful, so gentle, like he’s afraid you’ll break apart in his hands.

You lean into him, too weak to do anything else.

His arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you close.

You feel him shaking.

“I thought I lost you” he chokes out.

You close your eyes.

“I knew you’d come.”

Ace swallows hard, burying his face in your hair.

Then, quietly “I’m so sorry.”

But there’s no time to say more, because the base is still burning and the fight isn’t over yet.

Ace holds you tighter, his fingers pressing against your bruised skin like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his grasp again. But you barely register it.

The exhaustion, the pain, the relief, it’s all too much.

The world tilts and then everything goes dark.

When you wake, everything seems slow and heavy, like surfacing from the depths of the ocean, your body weighed down by the bruises, the fatigue, the lingering ache of the seastone cuffs.

You shift slightly, wincing at the pain, and that’s when you realize there’s warmth. Ace.

He’s slumped over at your bedside, arms folded against the mattress, his head resting there like he’d been watching you and passed out. His face is hidden by his wild mess of black hair, but his breathing is deep and steady.

He looks exhausted.

You blink slowly, taking in the dim light of the infirmary, the distant sound of the waves outside. It’s quiet. Safe.

You made it back, and Ace never left your side.

You manage to lift a hand, your fingers brushing against his hair.

He tenses as his eyes snap open, unfocused for a second before locking onto you.

“Y/N.”

Your throat is dry, your voice barely a whisper “Hey.”

For a second, he just stares, like he’s trying to convince himself you’re real.

Then his jaw clenches, and he sits up, running a hand down his face. “Shit.” His voice is raw, hoarse, like he hasn’t spoken in hours “You—you scared the hell out of me.”

You offer a weak smile “Pretty sure you did more damage than I did.”

Ace exhales sharply, his fingers twitching against the sheets “Don’t joke about that.”

His voice is too tight. Too strained.

And when you really look at him he looks like hell.

There are dark circles under his eyes, his skin paler than usual. His hair is messier than normal, his hat discarded on the floor. His usual reckless energy is gone, replaced by something quieter.

Something heavy.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” you murmur.

Ace scoffs, but it’s humorless “How was I supposed to sleep?” His hands curl into fists “They had you. They hurt you. And I…”

He cuts himself off, looking away, jaw clenched so tight it might shatter.

Guilt.

That’s what it is.

The weight of everything he said before. The things he didn’t say.

You swallow, shifting slightly, ignoring the way your ribs protest “Ace.”

He doesn’t look at you.

You push yourself up on weak arms, reaching for him “Ace.”

His gaze flickers to you.

“I should’ve been there.” His voice cracks “I should’ve gone after you the second you walked away. I should’ve—” He shakes his head violently “I let you go. And because of that, they took you.”

You take a slow breath “Ace...”

“You could’ve died, Y/N” His hands tremble where they grip the sheets “Because of me.”

You watch him carefully.

This isn’t just guilt.

It’s fear.

You reach for him again, your fingers curling around his wrist “But I didn’t.”

His eyes snap to yours.

“And you found me.”

Ace swallows hard “Barely.”

“But you did.” You squeeze his wrist, grounding him “Ace, I knew you’d come for me. No matter what.”

His breath is uneven, his entire body tense “What if I had been too late?”

“You weren’t.”

He shakes his head, but this time, his shoulders tremble “I can’t—” His voice lowers, raw and broken “I can’t lose you.”

Suddenly, all the anger, all the bitterness from your fight before, it feels so small. Because none of that matters now. Not when you almost lost each other.

You tug gently at his wrist, and after a second, he moves. Slowly, hesitantly, he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours.

His skin is warm. His breathing is shaky.

But he’s here and so are you.

Your fingers lift, brushing against his cheek “You won’t lose me.”

Ace lets out a shuddering breath, his hand coming up to cover yours, pressing your palm against his face like he never wants to let go.

You stay like that for a long moment, the storm inside him settling just slightly.

Then he whispers “I’m sorry... For everything.”

You smile softly, thumb brushing over his cheekbone “I know.”

He exhales, pressing his face further into your touch “I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart clenches.

Because despite everything, despite the pain, the fear, the regret, you never once doubted that.

You smile, fingers tangling in his hair.

“I love you too, hothead.”

Ace lets out a breathless laugh, wet and shaky, but real.

And when he finally kisses you it tastes like fire, and ash, and home.

He holds onto you like you’ll disappear if he lets go. His forehead is still pressed against yours, his breath uneven. You can feel the heat of his skin, the way his fingers tremble slightly against yours.

Everything feels so fragile. Like the moment could slip away if either of you move too fast. But you don’t want to move. Not yet.

Not when you can feel the way his heartbeat stutters under your touch.

Not when he’s finally here, safe, with you.

And then, quietly “You really scared me, y’know.”

You let out a breath “You scared me,” you murmur “Burning down a whole Marine base like a lunatic.”

Ace scoffs, but his grip on you tightens “Would’ve burned the whole damn world if I had to.”

You believe him. You always believed in him. Even when you were angry. Even when you walked away.

That fight. The reason you stormed off in the first place. It feels so distant now. But still, it lingers.

You take a slow breath “Ace…”

He pulls back slightly, eyes searching yours “Yeah?”

You hesitate “Before all this… before we landed on that island…”

Ace tenses. He knows what you’re talking about.

Your fight.

The argument that hadn’t been resolved before everything spiraled into chaos.

Ace shifts, running a hand through his messy hair “You were mad at me.”

You raise an eyebrow “Oh, you think?”

Ace sighs “I know.”

You look away, your fingers gripping the blanket draped over you. The memory of the fight comes rushing back. You had been reckless during a raid. You thought you had it handled. But Ace had jumped in, flames blazing, telling you to stop being so damn stubborn and let someone help you for once.

And you had snapped because it wasn’t just about the raid. It was about everything.

The way Ace always threw himself in danger, like he had to do it alone. The way he always acted like his life didn’t matter as much as everyone else’s.

And when you told him that, when you yelled at him for it, he threw it back in your face.

And now, after almost dying, after being taken, after him almost losing you, the weight of it crashes down on both of you.

Ace lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Guess I really was an idiot, huh?”

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow “Oh? Now you realize?”

Ace groans, dragging his hand down his face “You’re really gonna rub it in while you’re still half-dead?”

You smirk “Absolutely.”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, but then his expression softens. His golden eyes flicker with something raw, something real.

“You were right” he says quietly.

That makes you pause.

Ace doesn’t say things like that often.

“You were right,” he repeats, voice hoarse “I do act like that sometimes. Like it doesn’t matter what happens to me. Like…” He swallows hard, gaze dropping “Like I don’t deserve to be saved.”

Your chest tightens.

“But then you got taken,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper “And I—” He clenches his fists “I would’ve burned the whole world down to get you back. No hesitation. No second thoughts.”

He looks up at you then, something pleading in his expression.

“And that’s how you felt, isn’t it?”

You don’t answer right away, because you don’t need to. Ace already knows.

You sigh, leaning back against the pillows “You do deserve to be saved, Ace.”

Ace exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “Yeah, well. Guess I finally get it now.”

You shake your head with a small smile “Took you long enough, hothead.”

He lets out a weak laugh, then leans forward again, pressing his forehead against yours.

It’s warm. Comforting. Safe.

You close your eyes, exhaling softly “Next time we fight, can we just skip to this part?”

Ace huffs out a laugh “What, the part where I almost lose my mind looking for you?”

You nudge him weakly “No. The part where you admit I was right.”

Ace groans dramatically “Ugh, never mind. You’re insufferable.”

You smile, your fingers brushing against his. But then you feel something wet against your skin.

You pull back slightly, confused “Ace…”

He blinks, startled “What?”

You reach up, brushing a thumb under his eye.

“You’re crying.”

Ace freezes. For a second, he looks caught off guard, like he hadn’t even noticed.

Then, before you can say anything else, he lets out a choked laugh, rubbing his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

He sniffles slightly, then smirks at you through his tears.

“Look who’s the one crying at the end.”

You stare at him. Then you laugh with him. A real, genuine laugh.

Ace grins, his hand finding yours again, fingers lacing together. His grip is warm, steady, alive.

And when he squeezes your hand gently, you know neither of you will ever walk away again.

[frudoo]

hiii sorry ik u write slasher!141 so maybe this could be some random version of that but what if reader is craving physical touch and simon is *refusing* to give it to her and being super mean so she goes to johnny crying and he satisfies her needs and comforts her ?🎀

only if you feel comfortable writing !! 💗🎀

Once again I am SO SORRY it’s taken me so long to get to your ask!!!

This kinda turned into more of a Simon-heavy fic than I thought, I hope that’s okay :(( on this blog, SIMON RILEY GETS A HAPPY ENDING!!!!!!!

Hope this holds y’all over while I’m working on the second part of this 🤞

Warnings: Mentions of murder. Mentions of depression (one use of ‘kys’). Hurt/comfort. Entire series is a dark!fic—MDNI.

Sometimes, Simon gets in a foul mood.

Today, it was a victim that got him all twisted up. Slippery little bitch, always managing to weasel her way out of his usually iron-tight grip and immobilize him just long enough to go into hiding. When he finally took a bludgeon to her knees so that she couldn’t run anymore, she resorted to scratching, and when he ripped off her nails, it turned into harsh words. Typically he’s able to drown their bullshit out, but this harlot was absolutely brutal.

Gotta kill bitches because you can’t get any pussy?

Fucking ugly bastard, you remind me of my uncle’s dead dog.

Why don’t you spare your victims and kill yourself instead?

Needless to say, her death was quick and well-deserved. Still, her words got to him. All the depression he’s tried to fight off for most of his sorry life came back roaring like a forest fire. He came barreling inside the house and upon seeing his bad mood, you attempted to hug him.

He shoved you off.

Simon, your sweet baby boy who always makes sure to give you a lingering kiss each morning, night, and every hour in between; the man who pulls you into the shower every chance he gets just so he can take the time to ask about your day while he carefully washes your hair; the one who brutalizes anyone who dares look at you the wrong way—Simon Riley shoved you off. You fell to the ground and all he did was step over you, storming up the stairs to his room. Kyle was first to get off of the couch and run after him. John pressed a short, apologetic kiss to your forehead then followed the younger man. You heard the lock click and then you were alone.

The tears come before you can fight them off. Not once has Simon ever treated you like this. Even when you beg, the man refuses to do anything remotely kinky in the bedroom if it involves you being brought momentary pain. The sudden change in his behavior is jarring, to say the least. You don’t even bother to pull yourself up, curling into a sad little ball on the ground and sobbing.

“Bon’, did ye see wha’s wrong wit’ Simon? Saw ‘im stompin’ in an’- bleedin’ ‘ell, hen, are ye okey?” Johnny bursts through the door covered in dirt and sweat—he had been in the garden pulling weeds for you and must have seen Simon’s demeanor before he went in the house—immediately falling to his knees when he sees the state you’re in.

“He- I- he’s never-” you ramble through tears, unable to look your beloved Scotsman in the eyes even as he lifts you into his arms.

“Och, it’s alreit, lass, le’s ge’ ye tae bed,” Johnny coos, carrying you up the stairs and into his own bedroom.

Johnny cautiously pulls the covers back and lays you down, making sure you’re comfortable. The contrast of his gentleness and Simon’s indifference makes your chest tighten painfully. It hurts being treated so poorly, especially by someone who swore he would never cause you any harm. It makes you feel icky, wrong.

“Talk tae me, hen,” Johnny insists as he strips off his dirty clothes, stealing a glance at you every so often.

When you shake your head, he frowns, flipping his shirt inside out to rub the grime off of his face. He decides he’s clean enough to get under the covers with you, pulling you close and rubbing random circles all over your skin. Johnny’s always been such a reverent lover. In every graze of his fingertips, every touch that causes a shiver throughout your body, you can feel his devotion.

“Please?” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your nose, then the corner of your mouth.

“Simon pushed me,” you mumble, suddenly feeling embarrassed by this entire ordeal.

“Oh, bonnie girl,” he coos, pulling back to look at you. “Ah ken he can be a reit arse.”

“I just wanted to hug him because he seemed sad, b-but he just… he pushed me down. He’s never done that before,” you sniffle, tears gathering in your waterline for the umpteenth time.

“M’sorry, hen, ye didnae deserve tha’. Simon jus’... well, sometimes he lets ‘is brain ge’ the best o’im. Doesnae ‘appen tae often bu’ when it does, changes ‘im,” Johnny explains, cupping your face in his big hands.

“I just wanna sleep it off,” you sigh sadly.

“Ah promise, when ye wake up, it’ll all be back tae normal,” Johnny carefully tucks your face into the crook of his neck and wraps an arm around your soft waist.

It takes no time for you to fall asleep in his arms, your soft snores making him smile to himself. Your eyebrows furrow and your bottom lip puckers out when he presses dozens of kisses to your face. Johnny cracks his neck and settles his body in, about to join you in your nap, when there’s a soft knock at his door. He lifts his head slightly, one eye open to look at whoever just walked in.

“Is she asleep?” Simon asks gruffly, looking undone.

“Aye,” Johnny responds quietly.

“Can- can I come in and ‘old her?”

Johnny’s heart breaks all over again at the tone in his lover’s voice. He waves Simon over, shuffling further in the bed to make room. He adjusts you on his chest as the blond settles in next to him so he could be by the both of you. One huge, scarred hand rests on the small of your back right below the Scot’s.

“Ye feelin’ better?” Johnny questions in a murmur, his free hand wrapping around the back of Simon’s head to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

Simon nods but doesn’t elaborate any further. His gaze is focused on your peaceful face and his chest tightens at the knowledge that he hurt you. Johnny doesn’t allow him to spiral, pulling him down into a slow, tender kiss.

“She’s alreit, ye ken,” he whispers against the older man’s lips. “Kno’s ye didnae mean it.”

“I feel awful,” Simon frowns, nuzzling his crooked nose against Johnny’s jaw. “Too good f’me, all o’ya.”

“Si?” Your small, croaky voice startles both men.

“Here, sweet girl,” he responds instantly.

You yawn as he cups one cheek in his palm, leaning into his touch without hesitation.

“Missed you,” you mutter, opening your eyes just long enough to look at him with a lazy smile.

His heart skips a beat, and tears flood his eyes. He leans forward to press his lips to your temple, resting his head on the opposite side of Johnny’s chest to face you. The younger man grins as he gently massages both you and Simon’s shoulders, happy that both of his loves are finally at peace.

“Missed ya, too,” Simon sniffles, intertwining your fingers with his.

[takes1]

i just read the overview for the kyotani fic… ik you and the requester cooked so glucking hard omfg🤤🤤🤤

[final?] accidentally falling for kyoutani (maddog)

ayyy much appreciated pookie bear.💕😌 i have no plans to write a part after this so it will no longer be a priority. if i do write more (specifically after i write myself back out of the 'part 2 prison' im in rn bc im a dumbass) it'll be because of inbox requests for it

warnings. nsfw, implied depressive symptoms, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / angsty smut / bad coping strategies! / porn with plot / or plot with porn? / f!rec oral / spontaneous intimacy / heavy petting / making out / clothes on type shit / kyoutani is a munch / crying and hugging / 2.8k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests open. part one here.

"Mmm..." Your eyes danced across the photo preview, back to his eternal pout, and suggested, "Can you do some push-ups or something? Your forearm needs to be veiny-er..."

Kyoutani hated that. His eyes narrowed at you, his grip slipping away. You turned from his reflection to give his actual scowl an irritating smile.

"My forearms?"

"Yeah-,"

He flexed both of his wrists towards you, "These aren't veiny enough for you?"

You pointed at the strings under his skin, all plump and oddly attractive, "Well- see yeah, that's okay. But the back, look. Turn them around."

A big, frustrated sigh. He turned them and they were genuinely less vascular, there.

Getting this picture right was very important to you, and you made it immensely clear that it needed to be perfect for you to post it. Always worried about the optics, despite choosing the school's most renowned loser to do this operation with.

"God," He groaned, a big eye roll, "You're such a--,"

Ignored went his usual insults, mixed in odd cadence with his new pet names, as he pushed out about 40 good push-ups. Kyoutani did what you told him to at the end of the day. You had a few ideas around why-- but it generally boiled down to the fact that he secretly liked keeping you around.

Nobody could be okay with being alone all the time, right?

You sure weren't.

Kyoutani repped those out like he could do at least double that. You crossed your arms over yourself, warm, at his gesture at your feet. You wanted to tell him to keep going, just to see if he would.

It had been a month of no-contact with Tooru and you were drowning in the withdrawal. That was at 6 games, a mix of practice and real ones, that you had missed. You wondered if anyone remembered you. If he could ever pick out your voice in the midst of all his options, in the stands, the way he told you he did.

"Aagh-, you- are so difficult."

He was breathy as he rolled his hoodie sleeves back up, then fixed his collar. You took a little long staring at him, void of usual judgment, and he made a face at you when you pulled him back in to continue workshopping your photo.

Distracted, you drawled, "You don't make this easy, either."

"Hm... that is better-," Your fingers slipped over his arms again, his pump showing well.

The point was to have him be recognizable, but not in an explicit way. Just his forearms, maybe some of his hair, and his height the only real indicators of who was holding you in this mirror pic.

Tooru would know in an instant. Others might put two-and-two together, and more would have no clue.

Kyoutani's eyes lazily watched your screen, how you adjusted the exposure lower, the frame size. It was a dull endeavor, and not enough to truly interest him. Unlike you, he had no hope for your failed relationship coming back from the dead. Oikawa choked, dumping you- it was that simple.

Your neck smelled like that sweet, soft perfume you wore almost every Friday. That was his favorite. It made him hungry for a something with strawberries and cream, or a nice pastry.

While you moved his arm where it needed to be -right under your chest-, he sucked a slow kiss into the side of your neck.

It didn't mess up your photo, and it wasn't like you hadn't been paying him in kisses already, so you suppressed your shivers and ignored the creep.

Another few takes later, and you had some photos to work with, so you could edit and decide how/where to post them.

Kyoutani satisfied, so you started your editing where you stood, in front of your desk, tapping away with your thumbs while his hands roamed over your shirt.

He kept you shivering, a little short of breath, and half-distracted.

"How'd it turn out?"

He never spared his best sarcasm with you. He didn't give a damn about the picture.

"Fu-ck you," You sighed- it was embarrassing how quickly he got you worked up, making you more tense, than anything.

A breathy chuckle. That was too easy. He didn't go for the obvious response.

He moved further down, fingers hooked under your blouse. He pulled on it to swipe his tongue and teeth over the sensitive skin there.

"That-- that feels-- good," You struggled, eyes clouded, head tilted so he could have more room.

It had been too long. Any touch got your mind racing, your body reactive. You were barely able to post the picture.

Kyoutani scoffed. You thought he would stop, just to be an asshole, but he moved to press a kiss right behind your ear.

He grumbled, a hand diving, hungry, under your shirt, "I can do better than good."

You put a palm on your desk, stumbling forward and weak at his words, under his grasp, from all his prodding. He pressed you up against it, kisses faster, rougher. His other hand rested on your thigh, just shy of your skirt. More of a question, than anything.

There were worse options. Somewhere. He was hot, and horny, at least.

You turned around and brought him in by the back of his head for a rushed and heated kiss.

He not only met it, but gladly escalated everything-- he gripped you hard and placed you on the desk, a heady groan under his passionate kisses.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled his hips in. It all felt so good- so fast, but so easy. There was hardly a second thought to it at all.

"Fuck-," He groaned, parting for the moment it took to hold you tighter.

Hurried and ruttish kisses overlapped one another. He couldn't finish one before he started the next. Unable to keep up, you were getting pushed back in his haste, all giddy at his almost-funny enthusiasm.

But it was no laughing matter.

You were just as lonely. You tried just as hard. You wanted somebody to touch, somebody to hold.

Somebody to make you feel good. Wanted.

Despite your routine changing overnight after you and Tooru weren't on speaking terms anymore, you failed to fill the space. The quiet, the hours you used to dedicate to just your relationship, now void of anything, was like a memorial to the concept of 'us.' Inviting Kyoutani over -sneaking him in through the garage, rather- already felt like you were disrespecting your mourning. This was the desk he used to sit on. That was your bed that he used to sleep in.

Kyoutani cupped the back of your head like you were made of glass-- his sigh proceeded it, like this wasn't just some spur of the moment kiss.

And you let yourself be convinced. Just for a little while.

He was fast with his hands. Gripping, groping, pulling your expensive clothes.

Your own grasp was pushing down under his hoodie, under the collar of his shirt to feel more skin. He was warm, and here, and real.

"Have I--," You cringed at your stutter, as he kept his hickeys cropped close to your jaw, "Told you that- you're kinda cute?"

His hips rolled against yours, his fingers plunged under your skirt on your hip, under the panties Tooru paid for months ago.

"Cute."

A tiny nick next to your ear made you flinch, "You must be thinkin' of someone else."

He was making you breathless already, the dull sensation enough to get you soaked and destitute. A light chuckle at his stupid avoidance, and you knew to try harder next time you had something nice to say.

Kyoutani pulled back and rolled his eyes, muttering another, dismissive, 'cute,' and pressed his palm real soft against your pussy.

"Mm-m," You couldn't return his kiss, chin tucked lower, instead. All tense at his touch.

Your thighs squeezed around his wrist.

"No way you're that sensitive-," He laughed at you, but it wasn't targeted.

You evaded his curious gaze. In your denial of kisses, he dropped to his knees, instead.

"It's- been a whi-le-- Ah-h!"

Kyoutani was kissing you through your panties- on your desk- kneeling on the floor- while you were both fully clothed- and Tooru was who-knows-where, not giving a fuck about you.

He muttered something against your cunt, a buzz good enough for you to scratch the paint off of the surface.

You flinched, but didn't have a doubt in your mind about what you wanted as he pushed them to the side and put a sloppy kiss to you.

"Ah-h," Was a pitiful, whimpry noise out of your parted lips.

Kyoutani's hands, perfectly veiny at this point, had your thighs hostage, encouraging you to keep them up so he could get better access in this position.

His tongue was new, but he was so gentle, so attentive, that you got used to him embarrassingly quick.

Those fingers were darker, shaped more blocky and thicker than Tooru's. But they still felt good. They looked hot, gripping you. His curly, dyed hair was very different. You wanted to touch it, but refrained, in case he got mad. Nevertheless, it was a welcome sight between your legs.

The pleasure you had associated with only one person wasn't so specialized anymore.

"Mmn!" You winced at a strong suck to your clit.

Before you could tell him he was too rough, he was back in his light circles again.

Your chest was getting tight, your shallow breaths uneven. Tooru was never this spontaneous. You would've never known you liked it so much.

This was not your most conventional orgasm, but it topped more than a few.

"I-i'm--," Your whiny admission fell away at his consistency, his soft kisses and tonguing at your pussy, "F-uck, fuck, fuck-! H-ah,"

You came all shaky, whiny, for him, just the way he liked you. You were never more pretty to him than in that moment, how he made you all soft and sweet, soaking wet and broken in.

Kyoutani wasn't eager to part from you- you had to squeeze him with your thighs, just to get him to move.

When he came up, all flushed, relaxed, and chin dripping, he looked horribly beautiful.

He kissed you hard before he wiped it off.

"Knew you'd taste sweet," Was an alarmingly soft mutter against your neck.

That made you smile.

He filled the gaps around you perfectly, all warm, and out of breath, too. Did it classify as a hug? Because it felt like one. You put your arms over his shoulders and sighed, trembly, and heavy against his strong hold.

His thumb rubbed just under your hairline, and you could feel the expanse of his chest, the rhythm of his breathing.

Part of you wanted to apologize for involving him in your lunacy, your inexplicable obsession with the idea of getting your ex back.

The thought of that was messy, though, because then you would be apologizing for all of it. And now, after whatever this was, you wouldn't fully mean it.

Buzzed, you simply were not sorry for getting acquainted with him.

The desk was not comfortable. He smushed a few pecks, slow, against your forehead and lifted you to stand up.

"You're pretty good at that," You managed to admit before another kiss.

Careless, and absorbed in your body, "It's nothin'- you're pretty easy."

Instead of letting him keep up his handsy, huffy attempts at getting further, you turned your face so he caught your jaw. Your palms faced flat on his shoulders, instead of pulling him closer.

Kyoutani groaned, "Not like that--,"

"No no, I know," Your raised, insincere tone was a direct contradiction, "I know."

You reached for your phone. His frown got tighter.

He didn't want to let you go, but couldn't keep holding you when you acted like such a stranger. His fingertips slipped from you and were replaced in fists at his sides.

It was just like you. Reaching for something familiar and comforting as soon as you were intimidated, or unsure.

There were many notifications, all a blur as you scrolled down an endless sea of them. You cleared your throat, straightening your clothes, and he scowled at how different it felt, just watching your guard go back up.

Distracted, you glanced vaguely across to his shoulder, then your screen, and absentmindedly created distance by starting to search for a change of clothes, before you spared him any semblance of an explanation.

"Sorryyy, I really need a shower, sooo..."

He rolled his eyes and sat on your bed, "Kay."

The tiny consideration to be kind, cute, and engage him one more time did cross your mind. Maybe, if you had been more sure that he would be receptive to something domestic like that, you would've followed your intuition.

Instead, you shut the bathroom door behind you.

You looked down at the screen, finally alone, and grew cold.

Two missed calls, four messages. From Tooru. He still had a white heart by his name. You watched your thumb start to shake over the screen-- you set your phone face down and puffed out a sick breath as you turned the knob on the shower.

It felt like you cheated.

It didn't matter how hot you made that water. You felt disgusting and couldn't wash it away.

Kyoutani didn't need his overly sensitive hearing to know you were crying in the bathroom. He ran his palms over his face with a sigh and fell onto his back.

If Oikawa wasn't in the picture, his stress would be gone- but he also wouldn't have had a chance, in the first place. He had to weigh all the costs and benefits, gritting his teeth to the sound of your quiet sobbing.

The worst part was that you really weren't that bad. Nobody could be a bitch for that long. Maybe you needed to learn how to be less pretentious. He couldn't be sure, but he knew you had your good moments. He liked those. He liked you when you were sweeter, when you had your stupid guard down, and got all clingy and nice to him because you didn't have another outlet.

Being last-pick was getting really old.

You were sniffling long after the sound of the shower was gone. He waited what felt like an interval between too long and too little to knock, to check on you.

The door opened and an excessive amount of steam poured out.

He waited for you to say something, to prompt him to speak, but the natural beat faded away, and you were both standing there, staring at each other.

"Uh..." His jaw worked, face heavy and frustrated at his lack of words, "Are you... okay?"

It was easy getting his uncertain gaze meet your face, so long as you didn't look back at him. Thankfully, you were staring at his shoulder, lashes decorated with pretty little drops, your eyes brighter, somehow.

You nodded and he was at -yet another- severe deficit. He bit the inside of his cheek with a loaded sigh through his nostrils.

Kyoutani was so bad with words. You could hear his frustration.

"Come on," His hands went up past his sides for a subtle suggestion. An embrace. His face was turned up and away. You wouldn't have to feel the pressure of him watching.

There was a soft spot under all his messy bullshit, and it wasn't just fueled by sex. You hated how much you needed it, right now.

You closed the distance. No argument, no sarcasm, no pushing back.

You wouldn't put all your weight on him. Not like you did earlier. You'd be damned before you cried in his arms, no matter how empty you felt. He felt good and he was steady, strong. Your body melted, faltered, against your will.

"You wanna- I dunno- go get a coffee, or somethin'?"

That sounded like a fantastic idea. You pushed enough on his chest to tell him you were done with hugging, but he still kept a grip on your upper arm, eyes analyzing every little shudder and movement.

You nodded again, unable to properly respond. Scarred knuckles grazed your puffy face, not enough to do anything- just there to give you a soft touch.

"I'll drive."

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my masterlist. more haikyuu requests open (closing 01 march)

[lynnie-s3all]

forsaken cast x reader w spilt personalities :3

like one is every expressive and emotional and the other is just. monotone.

if u dont wanna do the whole cast then, 2time,chance,shedletsky (and maybe mafioso :333 ((ik hes from dream game ijdc c: ))

(if u want to) reader is a bottom 😈

im kind of a 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

-🌀🍀 anon

Did you know that i happen to have this in real life too anon? I mean, sure. I'm making it short cause I'm brain dead.

As for usual, I'm splitting these into parts.

Forsaken Casts x split personality reader

Tumblr stop making me have fame.

Elliot overall noticed that you have 2 moods, happy excited and very energetic and at when night time struck in, tired.

He doesn't mind actually. He can listen to you all day rambling about stupid stuff, and when the other mood comes in, he just feel like he needed the urge to hug and cuddle with you on the bed

Elliot thinks you look adorable when you're monotone mood kicks in. It's like peace and quiet for him. Bt still a bit annoying that you didn't really talk much during those hours.

Like you would just reply with like: "oh, okay." , "mhm.." Really dry. Even when he's complaining about work.

He still loves you anyway <3

This chicken dude.

He likes hearing you talk about anything, and he will also talk about his whole day too.

Sometimes in several minutes you just zoned out for a minute or two and he was puzzled for a bit. So he tried to hit you by the back amd ask if you we're okay

Well you told him you were fine, you just tell him that sometimes you randomly have no thoughts in your head and just tried to think about what topic to talk.

Okay now this doesn't feel right because isn't reader supposed to be monotone in 2 seperate personalities?

Definitely. Alright I don't want to continue talking about him.

UNHINGED MF. Okay definitely reminded them of AZURE-

I'm joking, who says I'm letting them remind you as Azure.

Okay energetic reader, I'm pretty sure they're chilling listening to you about our day and then your mood went so dry to the point that they look at you like you're dead from the inside.

They thought you're planning to kill with that dead expression, guess not.

Maybe you are. They're just not sure about it and they gave you their dagger and that mood went into confusion on your face.

Well okay spawn believer, if you really want reader to go kill someone then sure.

ALRIGHT THIS DOESN'T LOOK LIKE THE ACTUAL PLOT OF THE WHOLE HEADCANON ANYMORE PLS FORGIVE ME-

[enha-hype]

&team - period care pt 2 ♡ (maknae line) hyung line

how each member deals with/reacts to different period symptoms

pairing: bf!&team x afab!reader

genre: fluff, comfort, poor attempt at humour lol, little bit of angst in taki’s

warnings: cursing, mentions of nausea, period pain, mentions about food and eating problems but not ED related

w.c.: around 500-700 for each member

a/n: finally back with the part 2 i promised!! taki's turned out to be a little longer than the rest...okay maybe a lot lol (1k). but i didn't want it to be half-assed either so yeah.

posting this on my period.... where is my loving caring boyfriend 😞

🪐 yuma (fatigue)

it's one of those days where you really really do not want to step out of the house (more like the couch in the living room), much less do anything that requires any physical activity. which is not good, because you and yuma have a picnic planned for today at this cute little spot which requires a bit of walking and cycling to get there. and you are absolutely in no mood for that.

(more under the cut!)

at first you think about just sucking it up and getting it over with. but you'll probably be moody and grumpy the whole time and yuma deserves better than that. you would also like it if you could go when you would actually be able to enjoy it.

no other way around it then. you let out a long dramatic sigh and grab your phone to dial your boyfriend. he picks up on the second ring.

“yuma…”

“yes sweetie?!” he sounds so excited you feel doubly worse for what you're about to do.

you chew on the inside of your cheek. “okay, please don't be mad, but…”

“what? did you watch another episode of resident playbook without me again?”

“no! i was just wondering if we could... maybe postpone our picnic date and just stay in instead today?” there's a beat of silence.

“i am SO mad that i'm gonna come over with your favourite snacks and punish you with kisses all over your face before we watch the next episode of resident playbook together,”

you heave a sigh of relief. you knew he wouldn't really be mad – you had been more worried about disappointing him but the fact that he was being so chill about it eased your mind. “ugh, i love you. i'm sorry baby, i know you were really excited about today,”

“it’s okay. i know you were looking forward to it too so if you wanna postpone it there must be a reason. is everything okay? you sound a little off,”

if he were here, you would've kissed him for that.

“i just feel dead tired and don't feel like doing anything today. plus i couldn't get much sleep last night because i kept waking up to pee,” you frown, “i have the bladder control of a pregnant woman when i'm on my period, which is ironic,”

he chuckles. “sorry to hear that, sweetie. do you want me to get you anything on the way? do you have enough tampons at home?”

“yeah i do, thank you. oh but could you get some ice cream?”

“of course. you sure you don't need anything else? juice? diapers?”

“diapers? i don't use period diapers.”

“i didn't mean period diapers. i meant adult diapers in case, you know, you piss yourself or something,” he teases, and you can picture his cute little snaggletooth sticking out (ik he doesn't have his snaggletooth anymore but let me have this plis i miss it 😭) as he grins mischievously.

“ha ha very funny. let's see how funny it is when you get here and i tickle you until you piss yourself,”

“yeah no okay no pissing. only kissing please. do you have the energy for that?” the teasing tone of his voice makes you blush just a little.

“oh there will be plenty of kissing, nakakita yuma, don't you worry about that,”

“well then i guess i'd better hurry,”

🪐 jo (cravings)

it is no secret that asakura jo is an absolute sweetheart, someone who is too nice for his own good. he finds it hard to say no in general, but even more so when it's you and you're giving him you're biggest, widest puppy eyes. he would've caved even without you doing all that, honestly. so needless to say, whenever you're craving anything – especially on the days leading up to and during your period – he makes sure you have it even if it's 11 pm, because he wants to do anything he can to help make it easier.

however, he soon learns his lesson when he sees the damage his overindulgence does to you. he realises the sort of foods you crave also unfortunately happen to be the sort of foods that made cramps and other period symptoms worse. obviously, this is not news to you. you just figure that if you were going to be miserable either way, you might as well eat what you like at least. but jo makes up his mind to change things, and it does not start well. for someone so soft-spoken, you find that jo could be surprisingly assertive when he wanted to. and you do not like it at all, especially since you are so used to just him giving in to whatever you want.

while he makes it seem easy, only he knows the effort that goes into staying resolute. he hates seeing you sulk and wants to do anything to make you smile again. but then he reminds himself that you'll be the one to suffer later, and that helps him hold his ground.

he does not completely cut you off from your guilty pleasures, of course. he just makes sure you have limited and carefully curated access to it, unlike before. it takes you a little getting used to, and you whine and complain about it even though you are aware of the fact that you are probably acting like a spoiled little kid throwing a tantrum and well, it isn't far from the truth - you were used to being spoiled by your sweetheart of a boyfriend. but even though jo hates to see you pout, he continues to remain firm. to make things easier for you, he even looks up recipes and makes you dishes using healthy ingredients and tries to make them as suited to your taste as possible.

he keeps track of your cycle and starts keeping an eye on your diet a couple of days before your period is due – which is exactly when the cravings start. today is one such day when you are displeased with this arrangement – it's the third day of your cycle and you're desperately craving some caffè mocha, but jo said you've already used up your share of cheat meal/drink for today. you sit there sulking like you usually do, half-heartedly working on your assignment.

then it hits you that not only have your cramps substantially reduced this cycle, you also don't feel as tired as you usually do. your other symptoms are better too. guilt kicks in along with the realisation – all that he has been doing really did help.

you abashedly make your way to his room where you find him sketching. you stand at the door watching him for a while, then walk over and wrap your arms around him from behind.

“jojo….” you start, your tone apologetic.

putting his pencil down, he turns around in his chair and pulls you into his lap. “not mad at me anymore?” he asks, a soft smile on his lips. the smile is not teasing or gloating, just pure and pretty, like him.

you bury your face in his neck and groan. you've been a brat and this is still how he reacts? you suppose you shouldn't be surprised.

“you need to stop being so nice…. you've spoiled me rotten,” you mutter.

he chuckles. “ahh, so it's my fault?”

“no, it's not. i'm sorry, jojo. you're so sweet and thoughtful and i have been behaving like a starving victorian child. i've been doing nothing but complain and whine,”

“it's okay sweetie, i know it's hard,” he says, stroking your hair. “if i had periods i'd probably be way more dramatic,”

“oh, no, i think you would still be a saint,” you say and tilt his chin up as you lean in for a kiss.

🪐 harua (nausea)

it has only been a few months since you started dating harua so he doesn't know everything about you yet. like why you go MIA for a few consecutive days every month where he is only able to contact you through texts. on those days, you usually tell him something came up at your part-time job or that you're staying over at your friend's place or that you have to meet your grandma.

today, however, you decide to be somewhat truthful for once. which you end up regretting when he shows up at your door half an hour later. it goes like this:

harua🐇: hi y/n!! d'you wanna go shopping with me later today?

you : i would've loved to but i'm not feeling too good right now so maybe some other day? sorry xoxo

harua🐇: oh, okay, it's np! ♡ hope you feel better soon :(

and then he shows up at your place and your heart drops. under normal circumstances, you would've been happy to see him but right now you're positive you look like shit.

harua doesn't care about that, however – at least not in the way you do. how could he not come when you told him you weren't feeling well? he even brought a sick kit, although unfortunately it doesn't have much to help the kind of ‘sick’ you are right now – he thinks you probably have a cold or are running a temperature.

“oh rua….you're so sweet. but you really didn't have to come,” you say, hastily smoothing out your hair and fixing your shirt.

“no, i'm glad i came. you don't look too good, are you okay standing?” he leads you to your couch and sits down beside you, scrutinizing you with concern.

“no it's really okay…i go through this every month…” you begin, and he tilts his head quizzically.

you sigh with defeat. “i might as well just tell you, i guess. i'm not actually sick, i'm just on my period…i get horribly nauseous during the first three days of my cycle and sometimes even end up puking. i didn't want to tell you because well, it's not exactly a fun fact, is it?”

realisation dawns on him. “ohhh, so that's why you disappear for a few days every month!”

you smile sheepishly, your cheeks flushing. “yeah. i didn't think you kept track,”

“please, i was starting to think you were a werewolf or something and needed to get away to phase,”

you start to laugh but stop midway when you feel a wave of queasiness coming on and immediately clamp your mouth shut with your hand.

“y/n? you okay?”

you put your head between your knees and hold one hand up. thankfully it passes soon, and you sit up when you feel a little better.

“i think you should leave now,” you tell him.

“why? do you not want me here?”

“yes. i mean, no, not that i don't want you here– well i don't– but it's not because…i just…what if i puke? i don't want–”

“i'll hold your hair up,” he shrugs nonchalantly, like it's the most obvious thing ever.

you stare at him incredulously. he returns your gaze with his own stubborn one.

“did you perchance forget that i'm your boyfriend?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

“no?”

“then treat me like one, will you? let me be here for you,”

and how could you say no to that?

he does, however, leave soon after, saying he needs to run somewhere real quick and that he'll be back before you know it. he returns with lemon soda, ginger ale and some mint leaves for peppermint tea.

“stuff that helps with nausea, apparently,” he explains when you look at him questioningly. “did a quick google search. oh, i also bought some scented candles although i don't know how effective those will be… i didn't know what you might like so i picked up a bunch of random ones. i know you like citrus fruits so i bought a few of those and these here are floral scents. later when you're feeling better we can go together and pick more out–”

you pull him into a tight hug, catching him off guard. “i love you,”

he smiles and squeezes you back in return. “in case it wasn't already clear, i love you too,”

🪐 taki (irritability)

you've had a rough day. your professor had shouted at you in front of the whole class for something that hadn't even been your fault. then he made you walk all around campus running errands for him. and like that wasn't enough, you tripped and fell in PE. you didn't sustain any major injuries - just a few scrapes here and there but it was nonetheless not fun and extremely humiliating. you heard a few classmates snickering. and to top it all off, you're on your period.

given the mentally and physically exhausting day you've had, you're so relieved to finally come home and be able to sulk in peace. but before long, your flatmate who is also your boyfriend, also gets home – the one day you're not excited he's home early. while you love him dearly, you would really like some alone time right now.

taki is known as the mood maker in every room he's in. he's lively and cheerful and talkative and fun to be around. he loves putting a smile on people's faces so when he comes home to his favourite person evidently in a shitty mood, what does he do? takes it upon himself to make sure you're smiling again, of course.

and so it begins. he starts talking about everything he did that day and everything he's going to do tomorrow and about the date he has planned for you this week and what he's going to make for dinner tonight. he doesn't ask you about your day because he doesn't wanna make you talk about something you clearly don't want to. and so he talks on your behalf as well. you usually love it when he yaps away like this, he talks so animatedly it's endearing to watch. a lot of the time when he goes on one of his ‘yappathons’ as you call it, you're the embodiment of the blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff meme.

but not right now, not today. right now you're just sitting there silently, your irritation steadily rising, willing him to stop. if only you had said that out loud instead of bottling up until it burst, what happens next could have been avoided.

the final straw comes when he starts telling you about how one of his friends fell and how it was so funny everyone was laughing including the guy who fell. little do you know that he's doing this solely in an attempt to get you to laugh or at least crack a smile – nobody fell, at least not today. the logical part of you knows taki does not know that you yourself had an embarrassing fall today and so he most definitely does not mean this to be a jab at you, leaving your ego bruised. the logical part of you also knows that the anger you're feeling towards him right now is misdirected and irrational. but you're already so done at that point that logic flies out the window and you just snap at him.

“oh my god taki can you shut the hell up and leave me alone for ten minutes?! will your head explode if you don't keep talking all the damn time?”

taki was evidently not expecting such a reaction. he stares at you for a few seconds, stunned into silence. then he mumbles a sorry and gets up and walks away without another word. you hear the front door click shut a minute later. great. as if this godforsaken day hadn't been bad enough you've also managed to hurt the one person who was actually trying to make it better. tears prick your eyes as regret and worry slowly eats you up.

it is only when he returns a little after an hour later that you breathe a sigh of relief. he doesn't so much as look in your direction, however, and heads straight to his room.

“taki, wait!” you call after him.

he stops, but doesn't turn around. you go over to him and take his hand, and he finally looks up at you. his expression is sharp and unreadable, but the hurt is evident in his eyes.

“i'm...really sorry, taki. you didn't deserve that. it was a shitty thing to say and i wasn't even mad at you, i just had a shitty day and am on my period and needed a bit of time to myself to calm down. one of my professors shouted at me for something i didn't even do and then he made me go all around campus asking me to do this and that and then i tripped over my own fucking feet and fell in PE and it was so embaassing–”

“you fell? are you okay?” he asks, eyes wide and hands immediately flying up to clutch your arms.

you wince. “yeah, it was nothing. just a few scrapes and uh, you're actually kind of pressing on one right now,” you say, holding up your elbow.

he lets go immediately. “shit, sorry. where else did you get hurt? did you clean it properly and apply antiseptic cream?”

“yes, i did, i'm fine really,” you assure him, taking his hand in yours again and stroking it, feeling simultaneously guilty and relieved at how quickly whatever anger and hurt he might've felt about what you said earlier dissolved when you told him what happened.

he looks down at his hand in yours, then back up at you and sighs, lacing his fingers with yours. “if you needed some time to yourself you could've just told me, you know,”

“i know, i'm sorry. it was stupid. i'll tell you next time, i promise. don't take what i said to heart okay?”

he smiles a little. “it's alright. i know i would've been worse if i were to get my period,”

“way worse,” you agree, and he hits you playfully.

“so, am i still your favourite yapper?” he asks.

you roll your eyes and pull him close to kiss his cheek. “always,”

his smile widens and your heart feels lighter. “alright then, come on,” he says, tugging your hand. “tell me what you feel like doing. i'll make up for the shitty day the universe dealt you,”

🪐 maki (stomach and back pain)

you and your boyfriend are having a movie night with your friends taki and harua at his place. taki has the bean bag while you, harua and maki are sitting on the couch in that order – they usually try to keep you and maki separated during movie nights because otherwise you either won't keep your hands off of each other or keep making jokes and speculations about what's going to happen next.

halfway through the film, harua and taki are deeply engrossed in the murder mystery but maki has noticed that you haven't been able to sit still for some time now – it's clear you're uncomfortable. but he knows it's not because of the movie because you've always had a stronger stomach for gore and morbid stuff than he has.

he discreetly reaches for his phone to text you.

maki : why have you been squirming and wiggling for the past ten minutes. are you testing out the ‘would you still love me if i was a worm’ hypothetical?

your phone pings, notifying a message. when you grab it to reply, harua rolls his eyes. maybe they should confiscate your phones as well the next time.

you : no tf 😭 im just tryna get comfortable cuz my back and stomach hurts :( d’you think i could go lay down just for a few minutes maybe?

maki : what omg

maki : is it cuz of your period? why didn't you tell me sooner? and ofc you can go lay down you don't even have to ask!! actually wait i'll come with you

before you can tell him it's fine he's already speaking up.

“hey guys, you can continue watching the movie. y/n isn't feeling well so we're gonna take a little break and come back later,”

taki and harua enquire after you with concern and you assure them you'll be fine if you just rest for a bit. they don't even ask maki why he's accompanying you to the bedroom because they know there's no way he'll be able to focus on a movie when there's even the slightest thing bothering you.

the relief you feel when your back hits the soft mattress is palpable. “ohhh that feels so good…”

“better? what about your stomach?” maki asks, caressing your cheek, his forehead creased with worry.

“still hurts a bit,” you frown, placing your hands on the area where it hurts. “should've brought my heating pad. but it's fine,”

“do you want me to go get you one, babe? i'll try to be back as soon as i can,” maki says as he gets up but you pull him down.

“nooo don't go anywhere. stay here,”

“but i want to help,”

“well then…” you take both his hands in yours and his eyes widen as you pull up your top, leaving your stomach exposed. then you place both of his hands on the lower part of your stomach. as expected, the warmth and the pressure eases the ache a little. “don’t press too much but just apply a bit of pressure here like you're doing now,” you instruct.

he leans over your abdomen and wags a threatening finger at it, “hey you, stop hurting my partner or else!” he looks up at you beaming. “is that enough pressure?”

it's dumb and not even that funny, but you can't help giggling. “you are so silly,”

“silly in loooove,” he sings and you roll your eyes. with his hands still on your stomach he leans down to kiss your belly button.

you giggle and then wince. “babe i'm not sure doing anything ticklish is a good idea right now,”

“right, sorry,”

the both of you end up talking about the movie and you fall asleep listening to him ramble about who he thinks the killer might be and why. he keeps his hands on your stomach until you wake up an hour later and assure him you're more than fine.

divider credits: @/saradika-graphics

[whoiseduardito]

Heeey so I've come to the sad realization that marvel has yet again made me simp over a character that is NEVER written for so, I was wondering if you would be willing to do a fluffy magneto fic.

Maybe where you are a new teacher a the school and had never me Erik and end up with a crush and he ends up finding out somehow. Idk sorry ik that was a long one.

I need something fluffy after these past episodes and Smut is fine with me but I'm not sure if your comfortable writing smut if not no big.

HEY! GET OUT OF MY WAY!

pairing: erik lehnsherrr (magneto) x reader warn: i love this type of fluff!!!!!!! a/n: my first req!! not proof read!!! horrible writing, rushed, you can tell i loved the sound of music trope.

so maybe you have a type.

older guys who have the humor of a rock.

...maybe just the older xenotype- but that's not important, totally not. the issue is that, you're crushin'. you're crushin' hard.

maybe it is the face, maybe it is the hair, but something about erik lehnsherr pulls you in, like a magnet, ironically.

you were the new teacher at the 'xavier's school for gifted youngsters, it was a pleasant experience, the students were nice (until their mutations were triggered, but that's not their fault), the ambient was too, and the pay? you could pay your rent, and more!

for you, the 'no crushing on coworkers' was bullshit, a harmless crush can't do that bad, as long as it's harmless.

so you continued with your lecture, 'history of mutation', very cool, you had even made a presentation, and then a kahoot, pretty cool right?

"so, the history of mutations can date back to many years, such as the sixth century-"

the door opened, all of the heads turned, and the person stepped in, you turned away from the board you were writing, your eyes searching for the person.

it was your fucking crush, it was fucking magneto.

your face drained of all color, and his electric freezing blue eyes stared back.

"uhh-"

"-..this is a senior class, correct?" he walked around the class, his eyes cutting contact from your's

"...y-yeah totally" he stopped near a decoration with 'mini prom!" painted on it with photos of the students as younger kids.

"then why are decorations everywhere?" he stared at it "this is not kindergarden."

damn. "well?"

"i-i thought it would be good to make this a nice atmosphere for the students."

"the world is not an nice atmosphere for mutants, is it?"

the class was dead silent, no one dared to breathe, even lightly.

"i want this off the wall before the end of the day." he made his way out.

"why?" you whispered

he stopped "because i said so, miss l/n. now rip it off"

oh, your mood had soured

"i'm sorry magneto, sir, but the decorations stay." you said those words with all of the backbone you have

"i'm the headmaster. it goes off."

"i'm the homeroom teacher, it stays."

you were a teeny tiny scared but for your students you'd fight him without your mutation. he glared, his piercing glare stayed on you

"i'm sorry mister magneto but in here, i give the best ambient for my students."

his stare became harder, and then he blinked, sighing and walking away "...i'd like to see you in my office, right now."

you gulped loudly, you're pretty sure he heard.

he began walking away, a beat passed until you realised he wanted you to follow him, you began walking alongside him.

the way there was silent, but your head was running, this is it, this is what you get for standing up for your students, shit.

he opened the door, and let you in, murmured a 'take a seat'

"...i am not fond of people disobeying my commands."

"i am aware, mister magneto."

"just call me sir, mister magneto is ticking me off"

"sorry, sir" you quickly said, most of the backbone you had you used it on standing up to him, and now you were getting fired.

"just answer me this." you nodded, you complied "you are aware that in this school you're just needed to teach them, and just make sure they understand how the world works, not pamper them, not make them decorations."

"but-"

"are you aware?"

"yes, but-"

"then why are you pampering them?"

ouch

"i'm going to move you, transfer you if you will"

"what?"

"roulette, the mutation to be able to randomize whatever power you have seen either physically or by any media."

you're screwed

"your mutation, am i right?"

"sir-"

"you're going to work with me to make them control their mutation."

"...what?"

"you and me, are going to train them."

"uhm.... who?"

he sighed loudly, he surely had a small fuse "your students."

great! teaching with magneto.

"...you sure sir?"

"i am sure."

breaking the news to your students was easy, making them behave so you don't look like a doof, was hard.

many classes had passed with mag- mister lehnsherr (he had told you to stop calling him 'magneto'), each day was hard but sometimes you picked at his stony personality, hoping that he would notice, sometimes you swear you saw him crack a small grin when you made a joke or had integration activities for your class, and your tiny crush had maybe turned into a bigger crush.

"teach'?"

"hm?" the voice of one of your students pulled you out of your meditation spot "what is it?"

"are you okay? you've been in this spot for the whole break."

"oh here? this is a great spot to think." it was a tree behind the mansion, in a secluded corner.

"mister magento is looking for you." they sat next to you beneath the tree

"why?" they shrugged

"maybe's cause he likes you" your head snapped to their direction

"...don't be silly" you tried to look away "he doesn't"

"really? 'cause i always hear his heart beating faster, when you do something or appear." their mutation was enhanced hearing, you blushed

"oh, stop lying." you snorted

"he does!" they jabbed you with their fingers to tease you "and you like him back!"

"shut up!" you laughed

"you do! you do!" they chuckled, suddenly they remained quiet and a smirk slowly was painted in their face "i'll leave you both alone" they walked away

"wha?-"

"miss l/n?"

oh shit.

"do you like me?" you turned your head slowly to face him.

"mister lehnsherr!-"

"please, call me erik." he chuckled, maybe the first time you saw his face in a smirk that isn't evil. "and how about a coffee to discuss about your teaching methods?"

[photo1030]

Anonymous asked:

Heyy , so i had this smut idea for a while now, but bare with me please cuz my English isn’t that good lol . Anyway it’s about arthur and f!reader who’s been teasing arthur with a lot of touches and stares all day. But they were all busy that day so nothing happened. Then at the end of the day arthur finally got to be with her alone to sort things out (if you know what i mean) and confront her.

Ik … not very fluent in English lol , but I really really LOVE your writing so i figured i should maybe request something

Hello again, my lovely Anon!

Thank you for the "ask"! This was certainly a fun one to write out. I wasn't sure if you wanted Arthur and reader to be friends with longing tendencies, or in an existing relationship. I went with the latter. Hopefully that is okay. Either way, it ends up with some steamy goodness. If you need it tweaked the other way, let me know.

LEATHER AND LACE - CLOSE, BUT NOT CLOSE ENOUGH

Summary: You and Arthur have been trying to get some time alone together all day, to no avail. But by the end of the day, Arthur finally gets what he wants.

Warning: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW

*This is not my image. I have found it posted on multiple pages on Pintrest but can't find the originator. If anyone knows, let me know for specific photo credit.

Masterlist

The early morning sun tries to cut its way into the woods, cutting the dewy mist with its beams of warm, golden light. The burgeoning glow sets the birds into motion, their busy little chirps filling the brisk air around the camp. 

You are dead tired this morning. It was a long, hard day of chores yesterday and when you had turned in for the night, all you wanted to do was rest your weary head on that lumpy pillow of yours atop of that squeaky cot. And with all of the hustling and work lately, Arthur was hoping to have a little “private time” with you last night, too. 

But much to his disappointment, you had already passed out the moment your head hit the pillow, already fast asleep before he could even get his boots off. So with a sigh and just a bit of frustration, Arthur lumbered onto the cot next to you for the night. 

So this morning, you are reluctant to crack open your eyes when the feeling of Arthur’s heavy arm makes its way around your waist, slowly exploring your midsection and creeping up to your breast with his fingertips. His chest is pressed up against your back as he spoons you tightly to him, his skin radiating a comforting heat that sinks down through your skin and into the very center of your body. You can already feel his half-erect cock finding its place against the bottom of your rear. 

In this precious little moment, you are faced with a “difficult” decision:  do you try to get some very much-needed sleep? Or do you give in to the temptation of your beloved outlaw? 

“G’ Mornin’, Darlin’”

His low, raspy voice, cracked with remnants of sleep, floats its way into your ear and breaks through your mind’s thoughts…and that is all it takes for you to decide. A smile slowly emerges across your face without you even opening your eyes. 

“Good morning to you too, my lover.” You playfully reach up to encircle your arm around his head, turning your face back towards his. Your greeting is met with a simple low groan of approval as Arthur’s lips seek out the cuff of your ear. 

You gently roll over onto your back, looking up into his awaiting face. His hair is rumpled from the night and his eyes are still heavy-lidded with fatigue. Yet those eyes still sparkle like the bluest sky as they meet your own. And your heart could burst at how that is the first thing you get to see in the morning.

He leans down to gently catch your lips into a kiss. It’s the first of many to come for the day, knowing you two. You push your body upwards to flatten against his, your leg bending up to entwine with his burly ones. A soft giggle emanates from your throat as you deepen the kiss and run your hand along his cheek and up behind his head to pull him down to you. Arthur is quick to roll himself to climb over you, settling himself between your spread legs. Your lips press together, repeatedly working over the other’s as his hands begin to explore along your chest, grappling at the tender flesh there.

You lift your hips just a bit in invitation as Arthur rocks back and forth ever so slightly. Your eyes roll back as your fingertips drag along the thick muscles of his back, trailing through the soft body hair that scatters across his wide frame. 

“Arthur? You in there?”

Your eyes shoot wide open, instantly snapped out of your blissful reverie at the deep-sounding voice coming from the other side of your shared tent. Arthur seems to be oblivious to the intrusion at first as his motions atop of you do not slow down in the slightest. 

“Arthur?” the voice repeats.

Finally, Arthur collects his thoughts enough to respond.

“Go away, Bill,” mumbles Arthur, pausing in his administrations only long enough to warn the burly man outside the canvas, as he has no intention of stopping right now. 

“There’s a group of us heading out. Got a tip on a stagecoach coming through.” Bill pushes insistently. “Come on, we gotta go.” 

“Not now, Bill!” barks Arthur as he keeps kissing you, his teeth nipping at the tender skin of your neck and collarbone. 

You are trying not to focus on the fact that someone is not only outside your tent at this inopportune moment, but actually having a conversation with Arthur as his erect cock is rubbing against your aching heat, mere moments away from being embedded into the warm cradle between your legs. 

“Well, Dutch is askin’ for you. So what do you want me to tell him, then?” Bill asks impatiently.

“Bill!” you suddenly snap, lifting your head to turn your burning gaze over Arthur’s broad shoulder towards the tent flap. “If you do not walk away from this tent right now, so help me God…!”

“Oh!” Bill’s eyes open wide and his face suddenly turns beet-red as the realization of what he is interrupting becomes all too clear. “Oh, sorry! I’ll..uh…come back, I guess.” He snickers as he abruptly turns to hurry-off back to the waiting group. 

An exasperated sigh pushes out of your nose as your head plunks back against the pillow. Arthur has finally stopped the amorous actions, but still lays overtop of you, motionless and reluctant to move. 

“Well, that just killed the mood,” you huff, noting how Arthur’s face has turned down into a hard frown. 

Arthur takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I know I said I can never leave the gang, but there’s moments like this that I am open to the discussion.”

“Don’t tease me, now,” you warn as a tiny grin creeps its way across your lips. Arthur just rolls his eyes and sits up, playfully pushing your legs to the side so he can sit at the edge of the cot to get himself dressed. 

Back at the hitching posts, Bill approaches the waiting group with a smirk on his face, shaking his head. 

“Where’s Arthur?” asks Dutch impatiently, his gaze looking past Bill’s shoulder when he does not see the man in question in attendance. “You were supposed to go get him.”

“He’s…uh…busy at the moment.” Bill offers this obscure excuse to the men with a quirked eyebrow.

Dutch’s ringed hands land on his hips, his impatience growing by the minute. “Busy doing what, exactly?”

“More like, busy doing who?” chuckles Bill. 

It only takes Dutch a moment to realize what Bill is talking about before his dark eyes roll to the heavens. “Oh, for Christ’s sake…”

—-----------------------------------------

Fortunately, the coach job didn’t take too long. Arthur had begrudgingly pulled himself from your warm and loving arms to drudge over to join his companions. He got a good ribbing from the men, as was expected, but all it did was aggravate his already irritable demeanor. He wanted to spend the morning buried between your legs in his tent, not between Bill and John on their smelly horses.

By the time the men get back to camp, you and the other girls are already embedded into more chores. Seems there is always something to do. In fact, the moment he gets back to camp and unpacked, Ms. Grimshaw is quick to get Arthur to the wood pile, stating that the firewood is already low again. He shoots you a quick glance, your eyes meeting briefly across the camp, before giving her an exasperated sigh as he reluctantly heads over to the ax to get started.  

As you work with your needle and thread to mend shirts and darn socks, you delightfully treat yourself to observe Arthur as he chops the firewood. His strong arms slam the ax down onto the chunks of timber, causing them to splinter in his wake. His muscled arms flex with each blow, his wide shoulders set beautifully with each stroke. His burly legs set into a wide stance, the tendons there rippling beneath the fabric of his trousers with each jarring blow. 

The sight of it makes your heart race so fast that it skips a beat in your chest, knowing that this hulking man belongs to you. Your legs involuntarily cross and squeeze your thighs in an attempt to contain your arousal, a feeling that has yet to be quelled since your abrupt separation this morning. You try to finish your mending as quickly as you can so that you can steal away to go over there. 

“Hey, you,” you call to Arthur as you eventually saunter over, swinging your hips with a cheshire-cat-like grin on your face. 

Arthur lifts his head as he tosses a heavy piece of wood as if it were feather-light. The second his irritable eyes land on your beautiful form floating towards him, the tension melts away from his weathered face. He stands up straight, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you.”

You hand him a cup of cool water, which he gratefully accepts as your fingers linger across his knuckles like an ivy vine. You intently watch him as he gulps the refreshing liquid down, observing how his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. God, how you want to plant your lips all over his neck right now. You shift your weight from hip to hip and bite your bottom lip as you watch him.

You step up even closer, bumping your hip into his and giving him that look. Arthur looks at you with intrigue. He swipes the back of his gloved hand across his mouth, wiping away the water droplets that escaped his lips. He dips his head to kiss you, but halts mid-stride when you hear Ms. Grimshaw’s shrill voice hollering for you from across the camp. 

“Y/N! Quit foolin’ around with Arthur and get over here! I ain’t done with you yet!” You and Arthur turn your heads to see the woman standing in the clearing, arms crossed and face twisted up in annoyance.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Arthur mutters. He turns back to you and the disappointment is plain on your face. You could be off wrapping your legs around this man’s waist, but no. You are needed elsewhere…to stitch holes in socks. 

—------------------------------------

And so it goes for the rest of the day. It's as if the universe is purposely trying to keep you and Arthur apart. But Ms. Grimshaw is shrewd. Normally, you and Arthur can get a lot of work done when paired together. But when the two of you are acting more flirtatious than usual, the only way she can get anything done is to completely separate the two of you. Like wound-up teenagers, you and Arthur are known to play around and get distracted, sometimes even disappearing altogether. So the matriarch has been keen to assign you tasks on opposite sides of the camp. 

Seeing an opportunity to catch you alone, Arthur comes up to you while you’re cooking. You are over at the food wagon, stirring the heavy cast-iron pot for tonight’s dinner when you hear the grass and leaves crunching behind you. You don’t even have to turn around to know he’s behind you, as the scent of leather and cigarettes, mingled with clove, permeates your senses. It’s a familiar fragrance that will immediately set your mind to race, making your blood run hot. 

Arthur pushes his chest up against your back just enough to create that electricity. You suck your lip in between your teeth to silence any wanton noise that would be in danger of bubbling up from your throat. You turn your head slightly to the side, catching the pale blue color of his faded work shirt as he runs a single finger down the length of your arm.

“Ah, Mr. Morgan, there you are! I haven’t seen you all day.” Mr. Pearson suddenly appears out from behind the wagon with an armload of ingredients for you to cut and chop for tonight’s stew. 

“Glad you’re here! Listen, did I ever tell you about the time I got into a fist-fight with a fella from town? He was an honest-to-God boxer. But I was too quick for him, you see. It was a good fight, too.”

Mr. Pearson is so wrapped up in his own story that the disappointed groan that comes from you goes unnoticed. Arthur’s brow settles into a hard, dangerous frown again. If it wouldn’t land him a stinging slap upside the head from Ms. Grimshaw, he’d land his fist in the portly man’s face just to shut him up. On and on Pearson goes, excited to have a captive audience for his rambling. You try your best to be polite and smile and nod along, but Arthur has never been one for social etiquette and quickly finds an excuse to walk away. 

After you suffer through yet another one of Mr. Pearson’s stories and manage to get tonight’s dinner going, you set off to find Arthur again. The sexual tension is building and you can’t wait too much longer to deal with it. You finally locate him over by the horses. 

Arthur is preoccupied with getting Buck saddled up, fixing the straps of the saddle and filling his saddle bags with provisions. He’s bent over at the waist, checking Buck’s hooves for any muck or debris, and you come up behind him, slowly running your hands up his back, pushing your fingertips into the muscle. You can feel Arthur shudder from your touch. But he quickly switches gears, muscles stiffening up under your hands.

“Quit. I can’t be startin’ that now,” he quickly scolds you.

“Oh really?” you purr as you press up against him, thinking he’s playing hard-to-get.

“I mean it. Knock it off.” He spins away from you, putting his hand on your forearm and holding you at arm's length as if you were something offensive. 

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “Excuse me?” Your arms cross indignantly over your chest in disbelief. 

But he doesn’t mean to be cruel. He has to focus on what needs to be done. He can’t get sidetracked by those improper thoughts of you. And he has so many of those thoughts about you right now. 

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Look, it ain’t you, alright? I gotta head out. Dutch needs me to handle something for Strauss.”

You give a long frustrated huff. “Figures,” you mumble under your breath, taking a step back even further away from him.

“Don’t get mad at me for it!” he snaps.

“I’m not.” 

His ocean-colored eyes flash at you. “Yeah, you are!”

“Arthur, if I was mad at you, you’d know it,” you snark back.

“Oh, so this look on your face is one of joy, then?” he says with dripping sarcasm as his hand waves inches from your nose. 

You slap his hand down, your eyes narrowing at him. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I ain’t bein’ in ass!” His voice raises in volume as his limits get tested. He drags his hand over his face in frustration. “Nevermind. Can we deal with this later? I got things to do.” He plants his hands on his hips in impatience.

“Of course you do.” You give him an eye roll, your hair tossing in the air, as you spin on your heels to head back to the campfire. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Later that night, you are walking through the camp. Arthur is nowhere to be seen, which is annoying. You grab the water bucket and head over to the edge of camp to dump it, when you hear a whistle. Confused, you follow the noise as it leads you to the tree line. Suddenly, a massive hand shoots out of the shadows and clamps over your wrist. It's Arthur. He holds his finger up to his lips in a shushing motion, tilting his head to indicate to follow him before you can even utter a word. 

You quietly follow as he leads you away from camp and into the dark and awaiting forest, confused as to what in the world he’s up to. When you get to a thick collection of trees, he stops. 

“Arthur, what are you doing-” but you can’t get another word out before he spins on you and roughly grabs your face, crushing his mouth into yours. You can’t even breathe, as he sucks the air right out of your lungs. He backs you up a few paces, hands still clamped around your cheeks, until your backside hits a tree, trapped and unable to move anywhere else.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Can’t wait a damn second longer. I gotta have ya and have ya now.” He grabs at the fabric of your skirt without warning or permission and starts to hike it up, but you are quick to grab his wrists.

“What?! Out here? Arthur, someone is going to see us!” you gasp, shocked at his brazenness. 

“Don’t care,” he grits out as he pins your body to the tree with his own, his lips attacking your neck. He maneuvers your hands away from his own in order to keep pulling at the skirt fabric which is the only barrier between him and his prize. 

“But Arthur-” You try to take a second to try to talk some sense into him, but he silences you again, shoving his tongue down your throat. Your hands shoot up to his shoulders with a feeble push to try to get him to stop. But by releasing your grasp on his wrists, it frees him to reach up further under your skirt and yank your bloomers off, ripping them at the seam. 

The sudden jerk causes you to gasp and it’s as if a switch has been pulled within you. The culmination of pent-up desire has come to a head as you no longer care about the world around you two. You look up at him with hungry, needy eyes of your own, but see nothing but pure lust reflecting back at you, like looking into the face of a wolf.

Your own pupils are blown wide with yearning and briefly flick from his captive gaze to his full lips. And with that brief glimpse of approval from you, Arthur shoves his arms under your thighs and lifts you up off the ground, slamming you back into the tree trunk. The motion causes the wind to briefly knock out of your lungs as your arms wrap around his shoulders to hold on and keep yourself from falling to the ground. 

His hips grind harshly into you as his mouth devours your jawline and neck. You can feel how hard he is under the fabric of his trousers. Your precious little gasps only spur him on faster. Arthur fumbles with the buttons of his pants, pulling out his rock-hard cock. You can feel the tip of him rubbing hotly against your inner thigh, the length of him dragging along the folds of your heat. He seems impossibly rigid at the moment and you take a split second to wonder if it's actually painful for him. The thought of it causes you to desperately whine and moan in anticipation. 

Arthur can be soft and attentive as a lover, and he can also be hot and passionate. But, every once in awhile, he can be just outright insatiable. A downright, dirty outlaw. 

“You like that, don’t you?” he smirks, pleased with your reaction to his thick manhood teasing your sensitive skin. Cocky bastard. 

All you can do is nod, your mouth agape and gasping for air.

“Good. ‘Cause I ain’t about to stop now.” He lines himself up to you and pushes in, burying himself until his pelvis is flat against yours. You cry out with a wanton little whimper, your head thrown back until it knocks onto the bark behind you with an ungraceful thud. Arthur is large between his legs, always a tight fit within you, but you have zero complaints about it. 

“C’mon, baby, let me hear ya,” he coaxes in your ear. He immediately starts to pump into you, quick and desperate. Your back begins to drag along the tree as he ruts into you. The tree bark cuts into your skin, even through the fabric of your blouse, but you couldn’t care any less. 

“Jesus, Arthur,” you moan. “Right there…(gasping) just like that…just like that.” You try to lean back, pushing your hips towards him and he grunts with a devilish grin. 

“That’s right, girl”.

The beautifully lewd symphony that the two of you create could be heard by anyone in the area if they are close enough. Moans and stifled screams wrap around the wet sounds of tongues and lips clicking, while the unmistakable sound of skin against skin vibrates throughout the ring of trees that encompasses you.  

Arthur lets your one leg drop down so that he can use that hand to reach between you. The pads of his fingers find their way to that sensitive bundle of nerves nestled within your folds and he begins to curl and rub. His other arm that is still hooked under your knee pulls your hip up, opening your gait even more, allowing his cock to ram into the back wall of your cunt with full force. 

It's too much. You loudly cry out at the additional stimulation, your breath gasping as your hands pinch into the meat of his shoulders. 

The sight of you coming undone before his eyes is enough to melt his mind. You lean forward this time, burying your head into his shoulder and letting your whole body go limp in his arms like a rag doll, giving in to sweet pleasure and just letting him have his way with you. 

When you cling to him, he immediately pulls his hand away from your heat and lifts you back up again to get better leverage. He pounds into you even harder, chasing that euphoric ending. You are completely at his mercy now, mercy which will never come. The sexual tension that has been building all day like the pressure of a tea kettle boiling some water has finally been released. And like that scalding hot water, Arthur’s lust burns you.

“Baby, I’m…I’m close…” he sputters, his forehead digging into your temple. You can’t even form coherent words to give him a reply. In fact, you couldn’t care any less about anything he is saying right now, only about what he is doing. 

Your climax is a tidal wave as your hands dig into his shoulder like the claws of a bobcat. The painful sensation of your fingernails cutting into his flesh is enough to push him over the edge as he quickly drops your legs, pulling himself out of you before his spend is sent hurling into the grass at your feet. Lightning clouds his vision as Arthur lets out a loud moan of release, not even bothering to try to hold anything back. His rough hands clasp the rough bark of the tree behind you, snapping pieces of it off in his palms as he braces himself for his own overstimulation.

As his large body comes down from its high, Arthur hangs his head, leaning it against your collarbone, his chest heaving for air. Your legs are shaking, trying to keep upright as you bring your hands up along the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks. Your thumbs begin to stroke his cheekbones to calm him and you press light kisses to his temple as you catch your own breath. 

He slowly pulls his face back to look into yours. Both of you are left speechless. That feral beast that drug you off into the woods to be devoured is no longer in front of you. The man you recognize and love oh-so deeply is back, that sweet grin on his lips. 

“What the hell was that?” you pant out in surprise.

“A man’s got needs,” he smirks with that devilish grin. “And I needed you.” He shakes his eyebrows suggestively at you as he kisses your still-trembling lips. 

“I guess so."

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

ok i was the sandwiched between james and glenn anon so can i have 🥪

for ur glenn ask write any kinda plot but it has to include his tiddies cause ik u like them

A/n: These ideas hit me all at once and I needed to write them down but now it's late and I'm dead but also since you're the sandwich anon I had to make a sandwich fic with none other than James and Glenn

Warnings: Smut, doublestuff, multiple orgasms, angst, I will get to this maybe tomorrow, tell me what I need to tag

Metallica was touring and you were lucky enough to get a backstage pass. You knew you wanted to meet James and that’s all you’d been looking forward to while you watched from the sidelines, eyeing the singer and licking your lips.

You found him after the show slipping into his dressing room and followed him, giving a quick knock on the door and waiting for his call. You opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind you. James glanced at the door and did a double take when he saw you weren’t crew.

He smiled back at you and dropped the towel he’d been using to wipe away his sweat, taking a few steps closer to you. “Well, how do you do?” He asked, voice raspy from overusing it, and so aggressively at that.

“I think you know how I am.” You mused, this wouldn’t be your first time sneaking into someone’s dressing room, no one ever cared if you were there for sex.

“Oh, I know damn well, huh?” He asked, closing the distance between you both, his hands finding your hips. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that offer I can’t, we gotta get going.” He said, just as disappointed as you were. James loved groupies, he loved giving them exactly what they came looking for, but they had places to be and he couldn’t be late.

“I don’t.” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down closer to you.

“What are you suggesting?” He asked, hands traveling down to your hips before holding your ass.

“I come with you until you leave the country.” You said, nothing like a good road trip. “I’ll stay tucked away in the bus and you can do with me as you please?” James was in love with that idea, all day and night, you’d be there waiting for him? And, what, he buys you food? He could do that.

He finished getting ready, helping you with your makeup before getting into the bus. He didn’t have to be that quiet about it, it was better if he wasn’t, that way people would know to fuck off and knock before coming in.

Metallica had hit a point where they all got their buses, while they had the choice to share they often didn’t because there was no point, they were still carrying around all the gear so the number of buses wouldn’t change, and this gave them some privacy.

For a week it was just you and James, he’d get you backstage for their shows and treat you to the works around cities, buying you what you wanted so long as you let him keep his hand on your ass. Call him your sugardaddy, he didn’t care, at the end of the day he’d have you all to himself to do with as he pleased. While there was a lot of sex there was a lot of talking, late nights where he’d tell you all these stories and ask about you as well. Rude and disgusting as he may be, he liked cuddles and soft talking.

All was well, until you got to Jersey. Metallica was friends with Glenn Danzig, lead singer of the Misfits and later he had his own soloish career, a band named after himself which you always thought was a little self-centred, not like he ever did anything to prove otherwise. You weren’t much of a fan but it didn’t matter much, it was just a few shows that he’d be joining Metallica for some fun. He lived in Jersey, it was convenient timing is all.

However, that meant the two bands were hanging out, which also wasn’t a big deal, but you always caught Glenn staring at you. He was nice enough to you, when he saw you were uncomfortable around him he kept his distance and tried not to speak much to you, thinking it would only do more damage. You never saw anything different about him but James sure did.

You were waiting in the bus after one of their shows that Glenn joined them with, your comfort was that you were leaving Jersey that night so you headed out earlier than you normally would afterwards, not staying for the encore.

James was all giggly when he got into the bus, you were already lying in bed naked, waiting for him. He pushed the door into the little bedroom in the back open and smiled widely when he saw you. “What a good girl, sitting pretty for me.” He mused approvingly as he came closer, pulling his shirt off as he got on the bed. He flopped down beside you and kissed your shoulder, he laid on his back while you were on your stomach. “Bet you’re all ready for me.”

You smiled at him and watched as he pushed and kicked his pants off the edge of the bed. “Definitely.” You said, waiting for him to get his boxers off before climbing on top of him. He wasn’t hard yet but it wasn’t hard to get him going.

You started grinding on him, letting your heat get to him. You kissed him, it was sloppy and passionate, his hands running up and down your body, grabbing and groping you wherever he pleased.

He got hard fast, groans falling right into your mouth. He held your hips in a firm grip, you had bruises forming from the past week and they never got a chance to heal, only getting worse but pain only made you moan louder.

"Mh- hmm..." James groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hips rolling into yours. "Put it in for me." He mumbled, letting his head fall back again. You sat up, lifting yourself off his lap and sinking down on his hard cock. You'd gotten so used to being full of him, it felt more natural at this point than not having him, the night before you even asked to just sleep with it, it was comfy and kept his cum nice and warm.

You moved slow at first, his hands on your hips guiding you. Your eyes fluttered and soft moans started leaving you, James moved you faster, letting you bounce on his cock and making sure he hit the right spot. His eyes trailed over you, watching your body move in the dim light of the bus. The windows weren't covered, James liked the thought of anyone crossing by and finding you getting your back blown out by him.

His hands slowly slipped from you, letting you move at your own pace. He loved just watching you get off on him, using his cock for your pleasure. Your hands were planted on his chest and you were bouncing on him, every time taking all of him back into your puffy and abused cunt.

Hands slid back to your hips and you thought they were James's but when you opened your eyes again his were under his head and he was smiling up at you. You stopped everything and looked behind you to find Glenn, still sweaty from the show, his shirt had been thrown off at some point as well.

You pushed him off of you and jumped off of James, scrambling to get something to cover yourself with. James was nice enough to give you the pillow under his head but he was just giggling as you sat there, curled in on yourself while Glenn sat at the end of the bed looking over you.

As much as it felt like it in the moment it wasn't in a creepy, sexual way, he seemed genuinely concerned with your reaction to him. You looked to James, silently demanding answers while he giggled at the situation. "What? You're gonna tell me you didn't notice how bad he wanted your puss?" He asked, looking between you both now.

"That doesn't mean you fucking give it to him, James!" You yelled, wanting to throw the pillow at him but not ready to expose yourself.

"You said she wanted to, asshole." Glenn said, you hadn't expected him to stand up for you, definitely not to James but it's not like the blond would stand a chance if it came to a fight.

James just shrugged, not seeming to care in the slightest his dick was still pressed to his abdomen. "I figured if I got her going she wouldn't mind." You scoffed and rolled your eyes, you looked to Glenn who respectively turned his head away, now looking out the window.

"Dick." He grumbled while you grabbed some clothes -a shirt of James since that's all you had as a stowaway, and a pair of panties he bought you- and stormed off to the bathroom. You had a moment to yourself in there, where you could be hurt over what James did, but you didn't let yourself cry, you didn't feel like being locked away in the bathroom.

Then came the yelling. "You're a fucking asshole, is what the problem is!" Glenn's voice boomed. What an idea, two metal singers getting into a yelling match.

"You said you wanted a chance!"

"You said she was a groupie!"

"She is!" James really saw you as nothing more than a groupie? Sure, you were a groupie and yeah it had only been a week... it shouldn't have hit you like it did, but tears still stung your eyes.

Glenn growled and his heavy footsteps made their way to the door of the bus, but it was too late and they couldn't spend time dealing with this mess, not with the strict schedule. "Motherfucker!" He groaned, banging on the door only to be scolded by the bus driver.

You hesitantly poked your head out of the bathroom, James had gotten his boxers back on at least and Glenn was sitting on the ground with his arms crossed over his chest at the other end of the bus. You looked between them both for a moment, they were both mad at each other but they weren't paying much attention to you right now.

Finally, James let out a heavy sigh and stepped to the side so you could get to the bedroom. "You can go to bed, sweetheart, we won't bother you."

"Until we need a bed, right?" Glenn's voice was really soft, completely different to his singing voice which you'd had engrained into your mind.

James rolled his eyes. "There's no issue with the bed, is there?" He asked, looking to you.

Once more you looked between the two men, debating in your head. "I'll sleep out here." Glenn said, getting up and finding an empty seat, through all the technical stuff stacked on James's bus.

"That's stupid, there's enough space on the bed." James assured, looking back to the bed with the blankets all a mess.

"Then you two can share and I'll stay out here where no one promises me to anyone." You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and finding your own seat.

"That stuff falls down all through the night, not safe to sleep out here." The driver warned, glancing back at you all through the rearview mirror. After some grumbling you and Glenn went back to James in the bedroom, but you decided he was sleeping on the floor and you and Glenn would get the bed, setting up a wall of pillows between you both.

James grumbled over it and asked you to please let him back into bed. He did apologize, whether or not he understood what he did was wrong or why it was wrong was besides the point, he knew you were upset and he didn't like that so he tried to fix it.

He didn't end up back in your bed until you woke up miles away from the last venue and saw him shivering, still just in his boxers. You shook him awake and he crawled back into bed with you, nuzzling his cold nose into your neck and clinging to you while muttering apologies over and over until you fell back asleep.

While Glenn was supposed to just be there for the two shows in Jersey he ended up coming along, which you would've been mad at a day ago but this wasn't that bad, and he went to sleep in other buses.

The schedule was packed for Metallica for the next few days so you didn't see James much, and when he got back to your bus he was tired so it would either be quick or he'd just push his face into your chest and start snoring.

Glenn wasn't a part of Metallica, though, leaving him with just as much free time as you. Given the way he treated you after what James did you didn't have any qualms with spending more time with him, so long as it meant getting lunch and looking around at the cities you went to.

There was one night where you were sitting on yours and James's bed with Glenn, you had chips and were just talking and laughing. It was late and James still wasn't back. Glenn had such a sweet smile and his laugh was adorable, you'd found the gap between his two front teeth, as small as it was, and you heard his lisp. He could be sweet when he wanted to, it was just hidden behind his massive tits.

"I'm gonna take your fucking chips if you keep calling them that." He warned, reaching for the bag, but you were faster, snatching the chips away from him.

"It's, like, so not my fault that you made your honkers bigger than mine." You said, rolling your eyes at him.

"They're not-!" He stopped himself, sighing and burying his face in his hands. "They're not tits, they're not honkers-"

"Mommy milkers." You interrupted, only to be met with his face of utter disgust. You reached out and grabbed his chest, giving it a squeeze. "C'mon, gimme your utter." He swatted your hand away and made a gagging sound, making you laugh so hard you fell onto your back.

He couldn't help but laugh with you, but his laughter was much softer, his eyes trailing down your figure a little too closely. You noticed it, of course, but this was different to every other time he'd done it. You didn't feel violated, instead you actually liked it. A lot.

As your laughter died down Glenn saw that you weren't reacting negatively to his lustful gaze and leaned closer to you. Finally the gap closed between you both and his lips were on yours.

It started sweet, just testing it out. Then you were testing out each others mouths and that quickly turned to grunts and tearing clothes off. Glenn trailed kisses down your chest and stomach, taking clothes off as he went before landing on your inner thigh.

He kept his eyes on you to make sure you were enjoying it, looking for any sign of discomfort before continuing. With your back already arching off the mattress he didn't need much more of a sign to keep going.

He licked a strip through your folds, listening to the moan it drew from you. He kept going, paying extra attention to your clit. His tongue swirled expertly around it, flicking it, making sure you were nice and wet.

You were a moaning mess, gasping at the pleasure he was alluding from you. Your hands went down to his head, fingers lacing through his hair and tugging on it, pulling him closer while your hips bucked against his face. He had one hand on your hip, holding you down while the other went to your tit, groping it and toying with your nipple between the pads of his fingers.

He hummed into your cunt, bringing you closer to the edge as if you weren't already clinging on for dear life. He had no issue getting you to cum, clearly practiced with his slimy little muscle.

He let you ride out you high on his face before pulling away, giving you a break. "That good?" He asked, smiling down at you as he sat up. Your breathing was heavy and hard, face flushed.

You were both naked, James was supposed to be back soon but soon wasn't close enough.

"You know what I'm gonna do with you?" He asked, lightly running his hands up your sides, the featherlight touch of his fingertips sending shivers down your spine. You shook your head and waited for him to continue. "Gonna keep my lips on your clit, my fingers are gonna stretch you out and you're going to cum twice from that." He explained. "If James isn't back I'll fuck you myself, sounds alright?" Your body was already trembling but you needed him.

He smiled down at you and moved back between your legs, doing just as he said and latching onto your puffy, sensitive nub. His one hand was still holding your hips down but the other was pushing a finger into your cunt, taking his sweet time with it and finding just what you like -speed, where and when to curl his finger to make you whine- before adding a second and matching that.

Your hands were back in his hair, pulling on it and making him groan. He shot you a look that you didn't bother to look at, only focusing on the pleasure he was giving you. He scissored his fingers in and out of you at a good pace, curling them just right in your tight cunt to prep you for his, and later James's cock. "Fu-fuck, I-I'm gonna cum, Glenn, m'gonna-gonna cum!" You moaned, head rolling back. Glenn watched with great interest as your body reacted to the pleasure, the little twitches of overstimulation already creeping in but you weren't ready to stop, and it was easy to see.

He pulled away again, letting you breathe between orgasms. "Why-why do you do that?" You asked breathlessly as he looked over you.

He shrugged. "It's better this way, you get back to point A and you can last longer." He explained simply, running his hands up your thighs with that same gentle touch to watch you twitch. "But you're so sensitive so it doesn't really matter." He teased, chuckling softly.

You joined his slight laughter and nodded. "Well, in my defence I was basically a cocksleeve the first week I was with James." You said, pulling your hair out from under your neck. "Not that I mind, I was a good sock." Glenn gave your thigh a light smack and shook his head at you.

"Dirty girl." He teased. "One more and I'll see how good of a sock you really are." You wiggled your hips and he smacked your thigh again, a little harsher this time.

He didn't bother with his tongue this time, focusing on his fingers. He pushed three in and moved them fast, pumping in and out of you. Not having expected the harsh pace your body took a minute to process what was happening, but once you did you couldn't keep your mouth shut.

Glenn held you down, making sure you couldn't buck or pull away from him. You were gripping the sheets tight, hitting the mattress and clawing at his arms, doing anything and everything to express yourself aside from the borderline screams he had ripping from your throat, all while his cock sat there dripping on the sheets.

His gaze snapped to the door for a moment, seeing James still wasn't back and he was getting impatient. "Fuck it." He said, pulling his hand from your cunt and wiping your juices on his cock, using it as lube before slamming his cock into you.

Your back arched off the mattress, the high that had been building from his fingers hitting you all too well with his cock stretching you out now. James was pretty thick but it was mostly length with him, with Glenn, he was much shorter but dear lord it was a lot packed into him, and he knew what spot he was looking for when he rammed his cock back into you, snapping his hips back and forth, pounding your pussy that went from being abused to being neglected all the span of a few hours, until now.

Your legs wrapped around Glenn, pulling him impossibly closer. Of course it was only then that James finally made an appearance. "My god, are you fucking killing her? Everyone can hear it." He said, tearing his clothes off as he got closer.

Glenn laughed, not stilling in his movements as James got on the bed, closer to your face. "You really want me to keep her quiet?" He asked while moans left you like a second language.

James laughed and shook his head. "No, I don't think 'quiet' is a setting she has." He mused, tilting your head to the side. "You can take two at a time, right?" He asked. You nodded with a smiled while he painted his milky pre on your bruised lips. "Good girl." He purred, thrusting himself down your throat. You gagged on him and he let out a low groan.

They managed to match each others pace, fucking you from either side while you whined, moaned and choked, clawing at the sheets, James's thighs, Glenn's arms. You were being used from both ends you loving every second of it

Glenn grunted, breathing becoming laboured through gritted teeth. "Ngh, fuck, James, she-she's gonna cum." James was throwing his head back in pleasure while holding your head in place, your mouth his own personal fleshlight.

"Let her, what is that, twice?" He asked, sparring the raven head a glance.

Glenn thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Five." James's eyes shot open and he laughed louder, looking down at you as your eyes rolling back, Glenn bringing you to your fifth high of the night.

"Oh, what a good little whore, taking it all, huh?" You moaned around him, he was getting too close for comfort and pulled out. "Get her up." He instructed to Glenn.

"You're gonna break her." Glenn chuckled, doing as James said and lifting you up. You had to admit, being in his arms was nice. He was short but he was big, strong. He was warm and kissed so softly along your collarbones. All the stories you heard of him being a dick, they were still true, but he had his moments. The way he looked up at you when making sure you were enjoying what he was doing... You wanted to live in that, forever.

With your arms around Glenn's neck, clinging to him, James's hands went to your hips and lifted your up. "Gonna have to be careful with that thing between your legs, Glenn." He teased, earning a growl from Glenn. "Don't want it to slip out, but never get it back in."

You felt James's tip pushing against your cunt, politely asking for entry while he breathed down your neck. You were already so out of it and this was sending you so, so far away, in a good way.

He pushed into you, going slow since this would be a lot for you and he did care about you, for whatever reason was beyond you but he did. It took some getting used to, Glenn listened to your sniffles from the ache of the stretched and cooed to you. "Shh, shh... don't worry, you have us, we listen, right?" He asked, looking to James who was wrapping his arms around you as well, keeping you close to both of them.

"Not gonna hurt you, sweetheart." He assured, kissing the back of your neck.

They were aching to break you, to not wait and just have their way with you, but that wasn't what you needed, it would've hurt and not gotten better, they had to wait a minute.

James's hips bucked up and he was quick to apologize but you moaned at the feeling, so they kept going. It was slow but quickly they both picked up the pace, James pulling almost completely out before slamming back into you and Glenn bunny humping into you, though it was a very similar thing between the two, just a few inches missing in more ways than one.

You'd finally gone quiet, nuzzling into Glen while soft whines left you, your brain was too muddled to really do anything so you just sat there and let them do everything to you, because it felt good. Really, really good.

Being sandwiched between two men, while you never expected these two men, it was the best feeling. Their hot breaths on your skin, sweet praise coming from one and degrading comments from the other, "Taking us so well, love." Glenn purred, your body jolting from their thrusts.

"Such a-ah- fucking good slut, good little whore." James groaned, hand coming down hard on your ass. Glenn even moaned at that, loving to watch you get treated so terribly for sex, only because he could hear, and feel, how much you loved it.

They were both getting close at this point, you were too. You could hear it in their grunts getting higher and needier, their words coming out raspier. Their cocks were pulsing inside you, all you could think about was their cum filling you up so tight and good, feeling all full of their milk. You needed it so bad, cunt clenching around them at the thought.

Just like that James came in you, the feeling of his cum spilling deep in your pussy made you cum, and the moans that fell straight onto Glenn's ears did him in. He tried pulling out but it was too late, most of it still made it into your cunt, the few strings that shot out outside of it hit your clit and made you twitch.

James lifted you off of them both and watched all of it drip out of you and onto the sheets. They both groaned at the sight, you weren't processing anything anymore.

"Change the sheets, I'll run her a bath." Glenn said, taking you from James's arms. James didn't fight him on it, letting him take you from him.

Glenn carried you to the bathroom and sat you down on the floor, keeping a hand on you at all times while he ran you a bath so you knew he was still right there. He made sure the water was the right temperature and got in with you, letting you lay on top of him, kissing along your neck, the top of your head, wherever he could reach.

"Don't worry," he mumbled, running his fingers through your hair, "won't make you go back to him... you can come back with me and I'll treat you right, no more cocksleeve this and fucking whore that, alright?" You looked up at him, barely conscious, and he was giving you a decision?

[menlove]

I’m sure you’ve answered this one before, but what do you personally consider to be the single most convincing piece of mclennon evidence and why?

goddddd this is tough bc for me it's all of them mixed together that makes me dead certain

but I'll narrow it to three bc ik lyrics as evidence piss people off so my first two answers are going to be Brushed Off

but genuinely the most convincing to me is "this one" by paul. like the fact that he literally says it's about john and regrets re john and then the lyrics are

like I genuinely cannot think of an explanation for this song being about john than him having been in love with him. like literally can't think of a single thing that could make these lyrics platonic it's literally the most blatant thing he's EVER done

but people haaaaaate lyrics proof bc they'll say paul is a narrative writer and it's not literal (even though he Literally said it's about john lmfao)

so I'll move to John Lyric Proof that is so blatantly referencing paul and them having had a romantic thing going on but. the real life demo. the linked post goes into it, but it's so fucking obvious it hurts my heart for him. in it, he says: "was I just dreaming or was it only yesterday? I used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby, and another on the way. la la la la la farm." which can be about literally no one but paul unless john was having some never heard of before affair with linda. paul was expecting another child & lived on a farm, and right before that john had made a reference to him and linda taking a cruise. and he's crying in this demo. but "I used to hold you in my arms" is the like #1 thing that convinced me that they Had some kind of physical relationship bc the rest of the song is very literal so there's no reason he'd be making only one lyric up

BUT LYRICS ASIDE BC THEY MAKE PEOPLE MAD. my #1 non-lyric evidence has gotta be handed to paul's "if I were a girl, maybe I could go out and..." quote lmao like to me there's just 0 non-romantic interpretation of that one. he's just blatantly saying if he were a woman, he'd let himself feel obviously romantically spurned by john leaving for yoko and he could get him to come back. but he can't, because he's a man. it really doesn't get more obvious than that to me

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

hello! i’m not sure if ur taking requests but maybe an astarion x bard! tav who is neutral good? ik in game he hates it when we’re nice, so i’m wondering how you think he’d handle a tav who is not only kind but also not really interested in sex

Oooh, I like this! Time to bring out the bitchy cat energy. Because he is a bitch. Lot of Act 1 in game references here btw. Sfw, but y'know, Astarion sad boy backstory is always looming. Also conveniently ignoring the canon fact that Astarion doesn't know how to swim because I can~~~

~

Astarion supposed he could have come across a worse rag-tag crew of undesirables to associate with. It was made clear, disturbingly quickly, that he wouldn't have made it out here on his own. Not with the goblins and cultists lurking around every corner. And a damn vampire hunter for gods' sake.

Astarion could have done much worse than this merry-band of weirdos. Like laying dead in a ditch for instance. That said, it didn't change the fact that he was quickly growing tired of their leader's antics.

You were just so annoying. So selfless, in one of the stupidest ways he had ever seen. For one thing, why one earth would you ever trust a gith or Shar priestess? Or a vampire spawn for that matter. How no one had stabbed you in the back yet was beyond him, considering how you gave them every opportunity to do so.

Not that Astarion would, or at least not yet. But he could. Easily, considering all the misguided trust you had put in him.

But despite your flaws, he had to admit that you were capable, that much was clear. You were strong, quick, witty, and not above deception to keep the peace. He.... liked that about you, in a way. The extent to how far you would go to save others. It was courageous, as well as incredibly stupid, but he could respect it.

Slightly.

it helped that you were a cute little thing, even with the aggravating sunshine personality. Cute enough for Astarion to start thinking of... certain options. You would be easy to manipulate, he was sure of that. Enough so where his life could become one of your top priorities. You already seemed to like him, without him turning on the charm. It would be so easy to get you wrapped around his finger, with nothing but a few shiny words and some pleasant bed-warming. Nothing that he hadn't done before. And if anything, your absurd levels of kindness could.... make everything a little more pleasant than what he was used to. Gods willing.

And tonight seemed as good a time as any, considering everyone was still on a high from being the tiefling's heroes. You were excitedly talking at him, adorable in a frankly infuriating way. Or maybe the wine was working on him more than he had anticipated, he wasn't quite sure. But... your smile seemed extra enchanting tonight.

Enough so for him to get to the point after you asked how he was feeling, "I'm just looking for a little more excitement. A little more fun."

You cocked your head at him, innocently confused as he continued, "You know, we could always make our own entertainment darling. Get a little closer, so to speak."

"Sure!" You said, jumping on the opportunity faster than even Astarion had expected, "Can we do it now?"

Astarion blinked, pleased if not a bit surprised. He's not wholly against giving the camp a show, though the children still lurking about definitely put a damper on things. But maybe if you went far enough away...

"And can I choose what we do?" You asked, a wide smile on your face.

Astarion laughed, delighted at just how easy this was going to be, "Depends on how adventurous you're planning on being."

He hadn't expected you to grab his hand, easily intertwining your fingers with a smile, "I can show you."

Astarion hadn't been prepared for the quick escalation of events, but he was happy to abide by it. He nodded his head, giving your hand a small squeeze before saying, "Then lead the way."

And lead the way you did, right to the Waypoint of the swamp. Not exactly the most romantic place to be having sex, but Astarion had done worse. That was until you conjured the dancing lights, the dreary darkness suddenly transforming what should have been a putrid bog into a dreamy landscape, filled with flowers and freshwater.

Astarion looked to you, eyes wide, "How...?"

"We purified it!" You announced with a massive grin, "We did it this morning, before the party. Halsin and the other druids came down, I amped up their magic with a fantastic song, and bam! No more stench of the hag. Isn't it pretty?"

That... sounded exactly like something you would do, sweet thing that you were. Astarion nodded as he looked around, a little touched that you brought him here at all.

But as nice as the gesture was, he wasn't here for strictly fun. He had a plan, one that you were doing a wonderful job of putting into motion. Considering how you were in the middle of pulling your shirt over your head.

You looked at him expectantly, laughing a little when he rushed to join you. But before he could get his underclothes off, you were stepping away from him and... jumping into the water?

Astarion stared as you sputtered up to the surface, wiping your face with a loud laugh, "My gods, it's cold!"

"What on earth are you doing?" He called out to you, cautiously walking towards the water, "Are you trying to freeze to death?"

"Oh, hush!" You said, waving your hand in the air with a splash, "If we can kill an entire goblin camp than we can handle some cold water. Now get in already!"

Had he mentioned that you were aggravating yet?

But he hadn't made it this far to back out now. Besides, this was far from being on the list of the worst seduction tactics that he had to endure. Though it may have been the oddest one. Astarion couldn't remember a single time that jumping into a purified water pool led to lovemaking. But there was a first for everything. Though it didn't help that the water was indeed freezing.

"For fuck's sake," Astarion cursed when he came up for air, "This is your definition of fun?"

You giggled as you swam towards him, stopping to wrap your arms around his neck with a smile. Another unexpected move from you, a factor that he hadn't expected, but found oddly endearing.

You were playing with a lock of his wet hair, twisting it between your fingers as he wrapped his arms around you, "Well the fun part hasn't started yet."

Astarion laughed softly, his eyes zeroing in on your lips, "Is it about to start now?"

"I think it is," You whispered back, "You ready for it?"

"More than you know," Astarion murmured, leaning in to finally connect your mouth.

But before he could press his lips against yours you were dodging him, giggling as you whispered in his ear, "Good. Let's race."

And then you were pulling away from him entirely, diving under the water just to show back up a few feet away, a manic grin on your face, "Whoever gets to the opposite bank first wins!"

And then you were off, swimming away. You little cheater. Astarion didn't even think as he want after you, a childish competitiveness taking over. You still won, of course you did with that large of a head start, but he managed to beat you on the second and third try.

By his fourth win you were officially pouting, which only devolved into a splashing fight from there. One that he gracefully let you win.

It was all so stupid. Completely juvenile and beneath him. But then why was he having so much fun?

Eventually, you both got out of the water, opting to sit on the bank as you talked. Just... talking. Nothing more, and about the silliest things:

"If Halsin can turn into a bear, do you think I could learn how to grow an extra finger or two? It would make the lute playing so much easier."

"If you don't mind looking like a freak than sure. Are you thinking of literally growing them or having them attached?"

"If, and just hypothetically, Lae'zel and Shadowheart fought to the death, who would win?"

"Darling in all honesty, I think it would just devolve into lesbian sex."

"If you could go anywhere in the world, right now, where would it be?"

"...I think it would be here."

It was a startlingly fun conversation, one that had Astarion being sincere in ways that made him uncomfortable. But that didn't stop him from participating. The two of you talked about anything and everything until the sky started to lighten, both of you leaning into each other as you watched the sunrise.

That was something Astarion would never tire of, how beautiful the light and sky looked at the start of the day. Part of him still couldn't believe that he was able to see it at all, after two centuries of darkness. But now here he was, sitting on a peaceful riverbank after talking the night away, almost like... like he was a person. A real person who mattered. With someone who somehow thought the same.

You sighed, your head resting on Astarion's shoulder as you watched the pink sky, "We should head back soon. Before anyone starts to worry."

Astarion nodded, his heart clenching the slightest bit when you pulled away to stand. He... didn't want this to end. Not yet. Not when he-actually now that he thought about it, he hadn't done anything in the past eight hours that he had planned. The two of you hadn't even kissed, despite the fact that you had spent the vast majority of the night wet and in your undergarments.

How in the hells did that happen?

Astarion was still trying to figure that out as you tossed his shirt and pants his way. He stood, hastily putting it on while he struggled to figure out what to say next. He was completely off his usual script, at a complete loss as you re-opened the magical waypoint.

You turned back to look at him, that same sweet smile on your face that you had been wearing the whole night, "You ready to go?"

Astarion wasn't the type to stutter, but that's where he found himself when he blurted out, "I- wait- I mean, is that it?"

You cocked your head at him with a tiny frown, one that Astarion wanted off of your face immediately, "Did you not have fun?"

"I didn't say that, but it wasn't exactly the fun that I was referring to," Astarion said as he closed the distance between you, regaining a fraction of his usual forced confidence. Why were you so good at making him feel off-kilter?

He took your hand in his, reverting back to the seduction tactics he knew as he used his other hand to tilt your chin up, "I was thinking something a little more... intimate."

"I know what you meant," You said with a little laugh, giving his hand a small squeeze, "But my way seemed just as enjoyable, don't you think?"

"Darling, that's not exactly the point I was trying to make."

"Oh, I'm aware, but it was mine," You said easily, standing on your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek, "Thank you Astarion. It was fun, and I hope we can spend more time together like that in the future."

And just like that you were pulling away again, letting go off his hand to step into the portal, the feeling of your lips against his skin still lingering as you disappeared. Despite himself, Astarion brought his fingers up to where you kissed him, standing there like an imbecile as new feelings started to course through him. Emotions that he had no names for.

Maybe... this was going to be a lot harder than he thought it would.

[bbugspray]

Oh my goddddd i just realised all of mitski's tliiasaw can be about harry du bois/disco elysium if you squint.

Bug like an angel (alcoholism duhh)

Buffalo replaced (cop stuff, not sure bout this one)

Heaven (harry pov about dora, sighh)

I don't like my mind (HUGE DUHH super depressed overworked cop overindulging in drugs n alcohol)

The deal (THE BEST ONE, literally harry choosing to lose his memories cuz theyre too much to bear. And then I imagine the bird in the song would be the dream corpse talking to harry "your pain is eased, but you'll never be free, for now im taken, the pale has me" RIGHT RIGHT? I rlly wanna make an animatic w this)

When memories snow (almost laughed as how well this one fits. Its obv harrys memories coming back during the game, and theyre SO LOUD. "Listening to the thousand hand that clap for me in the dark" could be like listening to all the voices in his head? Maybe)

My love mine all mine (sighh, idk, about dora? About kim? Or maybe! MAYBE ABOUT REVACHOL the cityyyyy talking. Hmm could be rlly sweet)

The frost (the pale? the inevitable end. Should be sadder... but maybe it will be beautiful. I just rlly like this song. The best friend line is SO jean, but he has a whole song for himself:)

Star (Jean! Yeah yeah ik, could be very well be harry and dora too. But jean version hurts way better. Yeah its about him holding on to the memories and love for his 'dead' partner. The line "im yours no matter-" shatters my heart in this context)

I'm your man (HARRYKIM ANYONE?? "You're an angel, im a dog" w kims halo?? Yeah! Its 100% about harry glorifying kim and being so so scared of disappointing him)

I love me after you (Just the title itself says enough imo. The road to healing is a long one, but lets believe he somehow stayed the course. Lets believe he made it someday) (harry self love makes me very soft)

_____

I could go way deeper into these if anyone wants lol. Anyways im an insanely huge mitski fan, shes been my fave artist for the past... 4 or 5 years? I was very satisfied when I realised I could disco a whole album

If anyone has done any of these before, like fanart or fanfic wise, lemme kow! I wanna seeee!!

[runningfrom2am]

i'll tell her you stopped by

happy birthday to one of the most talented, intelligent, hard-working people on this planet <3 kezie it is such a treat to get to be your friend and i’m so so glad we met and im just so lucky you picked me! you’re amazing and i hope you have the best birthday ever bc i know you deserve it :)

so, obviously, this one goes out to @keziahcore / @winterrrnight bc i love you so so much

summary: rafe just wants to hangout while you study- is that really a crime? (aka: three times he tried to sneak in while you were studying, and the one time he succeeded... kind of)

pairing: soft!rafe x fem!reader

wc: 1.5k

tags/warnings: soft!rafe (bc ik how much you're a sucker for it kez ;)), highschool!au, established relationship, not much else? idk one mention of teen pregnancy (it's just mentioned, it doesn't actually happen lol) so stay safe out there y'all

a/n: this is doubling as my day seven for obx week bc it is a 3 times/1 time but i'm posting a lil early bc it's my girls birthday :)

masterlists // nav

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join my taglist here

One

The first time Rafe tried to sneak in to see you, you were studying in your room. Headphones in, you were absolutely dead to the world as your boyfriend took the classic approach of throwing small rocks up to your window, the stones dinging off the glass repeatedly with no notice from you. He tries calling, again, but your phone is still on silent. You didn't want any distractions- as much as you would have loved to see him, you were busy.

After about ten minutes Rafe is startled by the back door to your home opening, jumping back from the sudden sound.

"Rafe, you gotta go, buddy. You'll distract her. Head home." Your dad says, gesturing to the side of the house for him to go around.

"Yes sir. I, uh, I'll go." Rafe nods at him, giving him a quick salute before quickly heading for the gate.

Your dad sighs with a fond smile on his face, shaking his head as he closes the door again and locking it behind himself.

Two

The second time, a few days later, Rafe was coming to your house with a better plan. Making noise wasn't an option, so he had to be extra careful as he scaled the siding of the back porch, trying to get up onto the roof to reach your window. You shared fond memories of climbing out when he was over, when you weren't busy with exams, sitting on the shingles and looking up at the stars and out at the vast and infinite ocean. However, Rafe had never tried to reach your window from below before.

He made it up, just barely after almost falling no less than three times. He brushed off his knees and stood up, creeping past your parent's window towards yours. He can see you now, your room dimly lit with the flashes from Gilmore Girls playing on your TV and a candle flickering next to your bed as you sit there reading. He smiles to himself, almost there when he hears a window sliding open behind him. "Rafe, honey, is that you? It's late." Your mom whispers and he silently curses himself, quickly turning back to face her as she leans over the window's ledge.

"Hi Mrs. Y/L/N. How are you?" He asks, awkwardly glancing over his shoulder towards your window again.

"I'm well, Dear, but it's too late for you to stop by. Y/N has a test early in the morning, and she needs to focus right now." She smiles sympathetically at him. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, of course. I'll go home." Rafe nods, giving her a quick wave and watching his step as he heads back to the pillar he climbed up from.

"Hey, no, don't climb down that way. You'll fall and break your neck, come in and use the door." Your mom chuckles, stepping back so he can fit inside the window of her room.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Thank you." He says, looking toward the light seeping through your window one more time before climbing in to follow your mom down to the front door.

"I'll tell her you stopped by in the morning." Your mom nods at him, gently closing the door behind him as he says a quick thank you.

Three

Maybe Rafe had been overcomplicating his break-in attempts. He realized as he drove home that night that night was that the one thing he hadn't tried, was using the door. Well, the back door. Which is why he was determined this time for his plan to work. Especially since your parents wouldn't be home. Although, they had told you not to have anyone over.

You had told him earlier in the day that you would be busy that night, and he knew that just meant you had homework. No harm in him joining you, he swore to himself that he would just be silent company, he was more than happy to watch Gilmore Girls again while you went over readings and notes from earlier in the week.

At this point, he knows where to step on your back deck in order to not make a sound. Or, that's what he thought. The light is on in the kitchen, and it's about eleven o'clock- no one should be up except for you anyway. With the first step he took onto the deck, the board creaked and his eyes flew up to the kitchen window to double confirm to himself there was no one there, but he was unlucky today. He makes solid eye contact with your big sister, now standing in the kitchen with a mug in her hand. Your parents must have asked her to stay with you while they were away- despite you being far too old for a babysitter.

There's a solid three seconds of eye contact before Rafe or your sister make a move, but it happens all at once when she breaks his gaze to look at the door, seeing it was unlocked. She looks back at him, and in a split second Rafe is bolting for the door as your sister drops her mug in the sink and sprints for the door, reaching it and turning the lock right as Rafe grabs the handle.

Through the glass she laughs quietly at him, shrugging and mouthing 'too slow' to your boyfriend on the other side of the window.

"Come on, this isn't funny." Rafe groans, pulling at the handle hopelessly.

"I can't let you in. I promised my parents, sorry." She shakes her head with a slight laugh.

"Please? I promise I won't distract her. I won't tell them. Come on." He begs, voice muffled by the pane of glass between them.

She shakes her head again. "Nope, she's not getting pregnant under my supervision. Not happening. Go home, she'll see you tomorrow."

"Ugh, fine. You're no fun, I get it." Rafe raises his hands defensively, stepping back from the door.

"Boohoo, Rafe. Go throw yourself a pity party at Tannyhill." Your sister mocks him, rolling her eyes with a smile and closing the curtain over the door as he sulks away back through the yard.

One

Rafe was so caught up in the idea of a romantic surprise to visit you late at night, throwing pebbles at your window or climbing up to it and letting himself in, even overlooking the idea that hearing someone walk in the back door when you're meant to be home alone may scare the life out of you. Another thing he hadn't tried was just asking you.

"Hey, can I come over later?" He asks you, walking you from his car up to the school.

You look up at him, about to nod before you think about it. "Well, I'd like to hang out but I think I should get ahead on my chem homework." You resign to answering, not pleased with it either.

"We can study together, like a date. Come on, it'll be fun." Rafe insists, slotting his hand into your free one.

"That's what I'm afraid of." You giggle, squeezing his hand gently and swinging them between you. "Studying isn't supposed to be fun, it's supposed to be productive."

"I can be productive." Rafe nods, smiling at you smugly.

You squint at him, unsure of how true that is. You give in anyway. "Okay, fine. I'll unlock the door for you."

"Yes! Thank you, it'll be good. I promise you won't regret it." Rafe smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek before dropping your hand to open the front doors of the school for you.

"I better not." You laugh, shaking your head at him as you pass him in the doorway.

That night, you crept downstairs after your parents had gone to sleep, and as promised, unlocked the front door. Nonchalantly, you walk into the kitchen to make a cup of tea while you wait for Rafe to arrive.

Rafe was already outside, having parked down the block and watching from behind the neighbour's fence to see when your silhouette would come down the stairs and up to the door, remaining only for a few moments before turning and walking towards the kitchen. He gives you a moment before throwing his backpack over his shoulders, and standing up straight ready to head up to the door.

You're just pouring your tea when you hear the front door crack open, quickly turning to go meet Rafe at the door so you can head straight upstairs- curbing the risk of your parents seeing him.

Rafe slowly, delicately closes the door behind him as you walk up, eyes drawn to the small handful of flowers he holds- freshly picked from the neighbour's garden. Your cheeks burn as he holds them out to you, smiling as you take them silently before gesturing for him to follow you upstairs.

Your mother let her book fall into her lap as she listened to hushed giggles and whispers coming down the hall, quieting as they faded away towards your room. She smiled to herself and shook her head, lifting the paper back up once more to continue from right where she left off.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy, @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury, @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover,  @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @flonkertn, 

[batcavescolony]

Re-watching the movies, now that I watched the books: The Hunger Games

•also if Katniss is such a good hunter why does she need Gale to tell her to let the deer go cus it's reaping day? Why not make them seem like a the team they are, have them be equally competent.

•why isn't Gale actually hunting or gathering? Like he came out just to give her bread? They could have gave him a weapon to carry or a dead squirrel to show he's out there to hunt as well.

•again what is Gale doing here? Also no game bags how are they gonna carry their food?

•talking bout them hunting again, what did they get? Katniss got a bird but we never saw her retrieve it, why are either of them in the woods? Neither took food home! That's the whole reason they go hunting! The only thing we saw Katniss have was a hand full of berries? Maybe? For some yarn and the pin. Why did they go hunting if they didn't get anything!

•we can have an extended getting ready scene but they could let Gale or Katniss gather or hunt anything?

•kinda miss the other people visiting Katniss before she goes. that really showed that she was important to the community.

•Peeta & Katniss: *worse day of their life*. Effie: oh the capital is grand you'll love it! So much luxury-

•the cuts back to when he gave her bread everytime Katniss looks at Peeta 😭

•"where's the ice?" "I.. don't know?"

•Peeta has already decided to fight, Haymitch be damned

•“THAT! is MAHOGANY"

•he never seen that much water before

•the way the tributes are being prepped on morgue type tables (hard, metal)

•Tresh 😭 Rue 😭

• Thresh's face when Rue takes Cato's knife in training 😭

•Peeta&Katniss: *fighting by hyping each other up*. Haymitch: *eats soup*

•Peeta's camouflage in the movie is insane, like what? How tf is he gonna do that? Then in the arena he does is. In the books he like buried himself in mud, which makes more sense.

•Effie: I HOPE YOU KNOW YOUR ACTIONS REFLECT BADLY ON ALL OF US! Haymitch: 👍sweetheart! You did amazing.

•i wish Portia got to talk more she's right there, let her speak.

•i love this little speech between Seneca and Snow, cus I think some people still don't get why the hunger games happen. It's bread and circuses, it's controlling hope.

•i love Cinna

•young Derrick Hale is here, better watch out.

•i love the camera and audio work in the movie. Katniss comes our on stage and the audio muffels or the camera like slides around or goes toppsy turvy at moments the characters are stressed.

•i love how Peeta works the crowd, he kicked his leg up, he chatts up Ceaser, he gives people enough time to react before drops some lore.

•'i just don't want them to change me' AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭

•You know what they haven't brought up? Peeta having brothers as well? We haven't seen Peeta's dad either, no one else gets family ig?

•Jennifer is LITERALLY shaking

•oh shit, Gale is sticking to his plan of not watching the games.

• I think about their parents watching the games all the time, if anyone has and good fics tell me.

•book Katniss is fuming, movie Katniss found water hours into the game, poor book Katniss was looking for days.

•Seneca telling the other gamemaker to 'make a tree right there' it makes me think that all the arenas are the same bace with virtual terrain that changes each year and when capitalites 'go visit' the arena it's just virtual reality.

•'Maybe you should throw the sword!' I love snarky Katniss 💚

•i love getting shots of Haymitch getting them sponsors, we don't get to see that in the books.

• pull your hood up girlie! Less surface area to get stung

• Glimmer is sleeping on Cato

• rip glimmer even though Katniss thinks you have a stupid name.

• the trackerjacker sting effects being shown with the camera and audio work 💜💚💜

• Rue is adorable but I'd love to hear more about d11 from her, show more outside Katniss. Ik show don't tell but at least make her in awe of getting a good portion of food to show food scarcity in other districts even in the agriculture district.

•cut back to d11, I get the need to change things cus movies are a different format but that bread moment is iconic.

•i do like seeing Katniss track Peeta but again kinda hate his camouflage like how tf did he do that?

•all the flash backs to Gale, again I would be interested in what their families were thinking during their games.

•they took out Peeta's teeth, where are his witty remarks, his stubborn streak. Where's my boy that needed to be drugged while Katniss went to the Cornucopia? Book Peeta was gonna drag his half dying ass across the arena if Katniss left.

•I like Clove, she's so cocky 'we killed her 🔪 and now well kill her 🔪'

• if I was here I'd be grabbing all the weapons from people I killed. A weapon you don't know how to use is still a weapon.

• it's funny that the game makers in the movies are always messing with the time of day, making it night or day at their will. In the books it's just night and day cus it goes on for over a week.

• are they implying Thresh got killed by Mutts?

• how do the game makers spawn them in? Again I think this has to be virtual reality they just make the Mutts appear, they weren't released from somewhere.

• come on Peeta supposedly you have brother that you wrestle even though they're never mentioned.

• I feel bad for Cato in this

[fiyaerrigan]

First lines of 2025!

Got tagged by @perfectlysunny02! (ik this was FOREVER ago but bless youuuuu 4 thinking of me!!!! unfortchy my life has been. a little a lot chaotique since getting tagged lol)

(tECHNICALLY these are the lines that RESULTED from my first lines of 2025; the actual first lines are uh. being saved for a rainy day bc i do not like them in the context of this little fic. I've been uh. more self-critical than usual lately. bear w me.)

p.s. this is sort of kind of a fleshing out of the very first bucktommy brainworm I ever had??? it's a soulmate AU of sorts. enjoy?

Come on, Buckley. Tommy thinks, You can move quicker than that.

Normally, Tommy isn’t so snippy—but then again, Evan isn’t one to take his time—Not in moments like this. When they happen to have time free in their plans, Evan is precise and to the point, wanting to make sure not a second is wasted. Yet for all his eyes are on the clock, his mind is dead-set on Tommy, trying to get as close to him as possible in the spare five to ten minutes they have between meeting up and making it to their destination of the night. The laser focus Evan has in those races against time kills him in all the best ways.

Which isn’t to say that slow is unwelcome—Evan’s backed him into the corner by threshold, his hands gentle and warm as they wrap around Tommy’s waist. His pace slows to something almost exploratory, and just when Tommy thinks he’s about to lean closer for a volley of kisses on his neck, there’s instead a thump as something hits the wall. 

Tommy’s about to ask if Evan’s okay, but before he gets the chance, the other man pulls away. He’s about to turn around, see if one of the knick-knacks on the wall fell after one-too-many makeouts gone rough, when Evan finally speaks:

“Wait—” he croaks. “Stay there for a sec.”

He doesn’t sound like he’s been brained by a wayward picture frame, so Tommy gives him the benefit of the doubt. One of Evan’s hands grips his shoulder while the other makes its way upward. His fingers run through the hair on the back of Tommy’s head, but it’s not exactly a caress. Tommy’s not sure what it is, but he feels like he’s getting inspected for lice by the school nurse. It’s unsettling, yet somehow not the weirdest situation he’s been in with Evan. The moment is bizarre and awkward, and yes, Tommy would rather Evan make out with him than do his best impression of a grooming chimpanzee—Yet Tommy stands there like a dumbass, content to let his boyfriend continue his ministrations and maybe even smiling a bit about it.

Because if Tommy’s learned one thing from this relationship, it’s that weird is shorthand for unbearably endearing, but hell if I know why.

He’s sure Evan has a good reason for this. Tommy probably won’t understand it in the slightest, but he’s sure that—at least to Evan—everything here makes sense. That’s reason enough for Tommy.

And yeah, maybe he is too far gone on his boyfriend, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

Not that he wants to think about that bridge in the slightest. And thankfully, he doesn’t have to, because Evan abandons the strange ritual and spins Tommy around to face him.

“If there’s been a spider on my head this whole time, I’ll be really embarrassed,” Tommy deadpans.

“You haven’t had any pumpkin guts thrown at you recently, right?”

“No, Evan. Some of us seek medical care when exposed to strange substances.”

“So you haven’t been on any calls with freaky plants, or exhumed any cowboys without telling me?”

“Scout’s honor; Billy’s grave is undisturbed—Besides, flying helicopters into greenhouses isn’t really in my job description.”

“Neither is flying into a hurricane.”

“What’s got you so worked up?”

“Well, it all sounds kind of stupid now, but there’s this…  scratch, back there? Not, like, an open wound or anything! It’s just a little red, like a rash? I saw it a-and I, uh… I wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt.”

not sure if i should tag anyone in this bc iirc literally everyone and their mother has given it a go already??? i am simply 🐢 la tortuga

[live-laugh-legolas]

What are the fellowship's favorite fall activities?

The fellowship’s favorite fall activities

Aragorn:

-This man loves a good bonfire

-He’s so proud of it too

-Does that dad thing of standing back to admire it with his hands on his hips

-He doesn’t like s’mores much but he teaches everyone how to toast the perfect marshmallow

-He loves roasted pumpkin seeds

-He would love a good hayride too

-He would enjoy helping Sam in the kitchen; and by helping I mean kind of being in the way and just doing what he is told

Legolas:

-He attends every farmers market and craft fair

-Ik these pop up all year really but I always see them most in fall

-Also not really an activity but he is constantly smelling the air

-Like you know when you first walk out the door and the cool air just carries the scent of the leaves?

-*sniff sniff*

-Not a fan of scented candles though

Gimli:

-Flannels

-This isn’t really an activity but he is always pumped to go full lumberjack aesthetic

-Will chop all the wood for Aragorns bonfires

-He refuses to go apple picking; Legolas made fun of him too much for not being able to reach

-Does love going to a pumpkin patch and picking the biggest pumpkin

-*slaps pumpkins as he walks by to “test the structural integrity”*

Boromir:

-First in line to get a pumpkin spice latte

-And he gets his Uggs out

-Man loves his comfort

-I imagine he has fond memories of going on a trail ride with Faramir

-It’s the perfect weather to take the horses out and it’s a beautiful view

Frodo:

-I think he likes horror films

-Like he will watch them anytime but in the fall he can convince his friends to watch too

-He isn’t scared by them; he hopes he will be but usually it’s too predictable

-He does not watch these films for a few years after coming home from the journey

-Chugs apple cider

-He would have those sticky gel window decor things that change with every season/holiday

Sam:

-He loves to be able to bake all the autumnal dishes

-Spice cake and pumpkin pie are chefs kiss in his mind

-He doesn’t care much about Halloween; instead he spends October preparing for Thanksgiving

-He also won’t admit it but that he enjoys when his friends mess up his leaf piles

-Like he will rake it up into a huge mountain of leaves just for Pippin to jump out of the nearby tree into the pile (btw leaves do not break your fall much. You will hit the ground)

Merry:

-This boy has the Halloween decorations out the second he steps on a crunchy leaf

-Fake spiderwebs EVERYWHERE (never puts them up after the events of lotr for Sam and Frodos sake)

-He also feeds the wildlife so they will be ready for winter (You’re not supposed to do this)

-He has fed a bear and was just casually friends with it (do not do this. I repeat, do not do this)

-Spooky season is very important to him and he takes it very seriously

Pippin:

-He carves pumpkins religiously every year

-Makes the pumpkin helmet

-And gives the innards to Sam so he can bake with them

-If he didn’t munch on it all while carving

-He loves jump in and/or run through leaf piles; but he won’t rake them himself because where is the fun in that?

Gandalf:

-He maybe doesn’t particularly enjoy this but he doesn’t dislike it initially

-But he finds himself in a corner maze

-The hobbits convinced him to go with them but he lost them about 10 minutes in

-He has been in the maze for 3 hours now and is no longer having a good time

-Grumbling and swearing at every dead end

-The hobbits better hide by the time he finds his way out (there is nowhere to hide; he will find them)