#like i feel like i’m running out of time since the summer is almost halfway over

[ihopeucomehomesoon]

i’m okay w being alone for the most part but i feel so frantic lately with wanting human connection

[redsrooftopprincess]

PST.

You. Hey You.

*tugs on your sleeve like an excited child*

I haz an idea, but only if you want to or like to. Absolutely no pressure, I just want an excuse to talk to a cool tumblr person.

Buuuuuuut I was thinking, you know as one does, about hair of all things. Because I’m a very vain creature like that. Like due to working in a warehouse with 10 hours shifts, I usually keep my hair up in a bun or ponytail to keep it out of my face. Then when I get home, I still have work to do so I put it up in a twist or clip or something. So the first time in a long time, I clocked how long my hair is with it actually down and now it’s like half way down my back!

And I was thinking, how do you think our favorite Bruiser Boi would respond to something like that. Being used to his friend/SO ALWAYS having their hair up to suddenly have it all down for whatever reason? But anyhoo, just a thunk. Also again, I know this sounds cheesy, but I was thinking about you today and I was like “Man. What a cool person. I hope they just have the best Friday ever.”

So here’s to hoping you have the best Friday ever🫂🧡

Hidden Talent

Raphael x Reader

No Warnings, Vanilla Spice🌶️

You met in May, just at the beginning of summer, when the streets were not quite hazy with heat, but hot enough that, between the sweat and the frizz, your thigh length mane had to be contained.

Now halfway through July, you were honestly considering cutting it off. It's becoming more than just a little annoying.

It takes you over an hour every morning to quick and dirty brush - bun - pin, and between the weight of your hair pulling your skin so tight you're shocked you can close your eyes, and the bobby pins stabbing you in the head, you are pretty much over it.

It's been up all day and you've FINALLY made it home. The massive headache pounding in your temples like a god damn marching band has been growing steadily worse since you got on the subway *this morning*, and now it's basically unbearable.

You head straight for your room, tossing a quick wave to April and the boys as they drink coffee in the kitchen before heading out on patrol.

Tossing your bag on the bed, you glare at it when it rolls off the other side and you hear the scattering of small objects. Fuck it. You'd pick it up later. Or tomorrow. Or never.

He hears the sound, and the following exhausted sigh, and slips out of the kitchen as covertly as a giant reptile strapped to the nines can "slip," making his way down the hall. It seems like you had a tough day. If he can at least make you smile before heading out for "garbage duty," he'll already start off having a good night.

He reaches your open doorway and turns, lifting his hand to knock, but pauses once you come into view.

You're back is to the door and you're pulling the last of the bobby pins out of your hair. The bun begins to unravel and you grasp the elastic to rip it out and it straight up breaks.

You don't care. It feels too good to be free, and your eyes fall closed with a sigh.

It tumbles down your back and Raphael's eyes widen. He knew your hair was long, but this takes him completely by surprise. Silk flashes in the lamplight as your hair catches its shine and it cascades down your body to just about mid thigh. He breathes in your scent as it blooms outward. He'd only caught it in glimpses before, almost as tightly contained as your hair, but with your hair now loose you are everywhere and his head is swimming.

As you run your hands through the hair at your scalp to loosen it for the first time in hours, you can't help the almost- moan of relief that escapes you.

Between your beauty and your scent, that sound is nearly his undoing, and he swallows hard.

You sigh as the headache and tension start to dissipate and rub your temples as you open your eyes. You catch his reflection in the small mirror on your desk. He's looking at you with something like awe. He doesnt notice you notice.

You're beautiful. He knows this. It's an objective fact. But beyond that you're funny and smart and so much fun to hang out with. You only met a couple of months ago, but you've starting spending more time together, even on his nights off, and he's not, totally not, even remotely possibly falling for you. Not even a little. Nope.

But holy shit are you beautiful.

"Oh, hey Red," you say, turning around with a smile.

He nearly jumps out of his shell at the sudden attention, and his cheeks darken when he realizes you must have caught him staring.

He perks up, trying to brush it off, "Uh, yeah, hey. You, um..." he clears his throat, "kinda sounded like you had a rough day. Anything I can do?"

You smile softly at him, tucking your hair behind your ear. He follows your hand and tries not to breathe. "Thanks. No. I'll be fine," you chuckle, a gentle pink coloring your cheeks, "just being dramatic."

You sit on the bed beside you, snatching your hair brush off the desk. "You boys heading out soon?" You ask.

"Uh, yeah," he confirms, as you start brushing your hair, "bout ten minutes or so, I guess." The brush is scattering your scent into the air, filling the room with you, and his mouth waters. He clears his throat. "So, uh, something happen today?" He asks, leaning against the door and attempting to appear casual. He feels drunk.

You shrug. "Just the usual. People being people. The ever present headache doesn't help," you say, glaring at the broken elastic on the floor.

"Your hair?" He asks.

You nod, "It'll be too hot to wear my hair comfortably until probably mid-september, and I've about lost my patience with this. I didn't expect summer in New York to be this unbearable." You sigh heavily, working on a particularly stubborn knot, "I don't know, I'm thinking of just chopping it off."

"Don't," He says , so quickly and emphatically that it surprises even him, and he blushes and looks away when your eyes shoot up to look at him. He clears his throat, eyes returning to yours, "what I mean is... you don't have to," he takes a step forward and hesitates, is he really gonna do this...?

...fuck it.

He walks the rest of the way to the bed and gestures to your hair, "Um, may I?" He says, trying not to show how terrified he is right now. What if she thinks it's weird. That *he's* weird. This was a bad idea.

"Sure," you say with a smile, stopping the spiral in it's tracks. You hand him your hairbrush, and turn so that your back is to him. You feel the mattress dip as he sits beside you.

His fingers brush the back of your neck as he lifts your hair, sending a shiver down your spine, and your eyes fall closed as he begins pulling the brush through it. A soft sigh escapes you when he scrapes the brush gently against your scalp.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Worst idea he's ever had. Now he was the one brushing your scent all over him, and the realization that he would be smelling you all night, along with your barely audible sounds of contentment, are affecting him in ways that are not allowed.

He takes a deep breath, swallowing your scent, drinking you like a man on his last dime, gluttonous and pathetic, as he accepts that he will gladly, desperately, keep coming back to this fountain, even though he knows it's killing him. This was a terrible, awful, amazingly wonderful idea. He should really make stupid decisions more often.

Meanwhile, you're trying not to chew a hole through your lip, because every gentle tug, every scrape of the brush, sends ripples through your body that you can feel in your fingertips. It's been a while, okay? To say your love life is non existent would be being kind. You're going over your terribly obnoxious day in your head beat for beat in desperation, trying to think of anything they might draw your attention away from what he's doing because fuck...

It isn't just the sensations. It's him.

It'd be a lie to say you haven't thought about it. Beyond him being so much fun to be around, he was absolutely stunning. He physically and metaphorically should not exist and you mean that in the best way possible. There were a lot of late nights where you found yourself imagining his scales against your bare skin, his deep voice rumbling like thunder in your ear...

He holds your hair gently at the scalp while he works out a particularly stubborn knot, so it doesn't pinch, and as he succeeds, your hair tugs gently as his fingers run through it.

Your scent changes, he thinks, but it's difficult to tell when his face is nigh buried in your hair, and your amber conditioner mixed with your own unique perfume are making his mouth water. He's wrong . He has to be. You couldn't possibly be...

He reaches over to the desk to retrieve an elastic and a few bobby pins and catches your reflection in the mirror. Cheeks pink, eyes closed, lips parted, he had to make a conscious effort not to tighten his hands in your hair. Don't react. It doesn't mean anything. He spots a hair pin on the desk, and grabs that, too.

He returns to his task, twisting and securing your hair in a low bun, just above your hair line. He can see the flush of your shoulders as he lifts your hair and attempts to control his breathing. As he places the last pin, he can't resist running the back of his finger down the back of your neck. He doesn't miss you shiver.

"There," he says, possibly a bit more huskily than he intends to, "how's that feel?"

Miraculously, the weight was still there, but he had twisted it in such a way that it was secure without pulling or pinching. When you turn to the mirror, the lamplight catches the hairpin, the warm glare making it flash like fire. You smile softly, almost in disbelief, and touch your hair gently. You turn to him, speechless.

His blush deepens, "I, uh... I'm pretty good with textiles. Hair ain't that different." His mouth turns up in a nervous smile when your smile of disbelief becomes a grin.

"Well you are just full of surprises, aren't you?" You say, almost breathless.

He blushes, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck, looking away, "I guess..."

"Hey," Leo's head pops in the doorway, "we're heading out, you ready?"

Raph looks at you, and then Leo, and then back at you before clearing his throat and standing up, "uh, Yeah. Yeah, good to go." He shoots you an almost regretful smile.

"I guess that means you'll have to come over tomorrow and teach me how you did it," you say, grinning at him, "Can I say thank you with dinner?"

"Deal," he says, unable to help the grin that lights up his face, "I'll see you tomorrow." You don't miss the look Leo gives the both of you as he makes his way out the door. With one last glance at you, pink still staining your cheeks, Raphael leaves for the night.

You sit on the bed and touch the back of your neck, feeling the ghost of his hands in your hair. Maybe you wouldn't cut it, after all.

......

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @footninja @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo

[newtthetranswriter]

Misunderstandings

Paring: Takashi Mitsuya x Gn! Reader

Word Count: 2349

Summary: Wanting to surprise Takashi for his birthday turned into a misunderstanding, luckily communication is the key to most situations.

Warnings: implications of cheating but it’s all just stress induced thoughts, cursing, idk let me know if i missed anything.

A/n: First Happy Birthday to the wonderful Takashi Mitasuya, who is by far one of the best characters in Tokyo Revengers. Second, I hope you all are enjoying My pride event so far, even if this one isn’t directly Pride related. Anyway without further ado enjoy, and remember to hydrate or diedrate.

   There are very few days of the year that I will change my routine for, and today is one of those special days. For most people it’s just another Wednesday, but for me, it’s the birthday of the most amazing guy to walk the earth, Takashi Mitsuya. Every year he says all he wants is to relax and maybe see his friends, and most years I follow that request but this year I had something else planned. For the past few weeks I have been working alongside most of the old Toman members to plan a surprise party for him. I know we’re adults and surprise parties are more for little kids but I can’t help it, I want him to have an amazing birthday and take a real break. With all the stress of recent deadlines to get summer inspired designs out, he could use a day to relax with his close friends.

    So waking up to my alarm I couldn’t help but feel excited to put the finishing touches on the surprise party before showing Takashi what we have planned for him. After taking a moment to admire his peaceful sleeping face, I managed to get out of bed without disturbing him. I went about my normal morning routine, getting dressed and washing my face before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. 

   As I was halfway down with making pancakes, I was greeted by the sound of Takashi entering the kitchen. “Good morning, would you like some pancakes?” I asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee. It was taking everything in me not to immediately wish him a happy birthday, but part of the plan was to ‘forget’ what day it was. 

  “Good morning, love. And pancakes sound amazing.” He answered, walking behind me placing a kiss on my head before moving to sit at the little dining table we had in the kitchen.

   While I finished making the pancakes, it was almost silent as I was focused and Takashi was still waking up fully. After plating both of our pancakes, I sat across from my amazing husband. “Since it's my first free day in a few weeks I was thinking maybe we could go do something?” Takashi asked, as we ate our breakfast together.

   I took advantage of the fact I was mid bite to think of how to respond. Of course I would love to spend the whole day with him, but I still needed to meet up with Draken to get a few last minute things for the party later. “Oh, um I made plans with a few friends for today.” I answered quickly, it wasn’t a lie but seeing his face drop made my heart want to explode. “I’m sorry Taka, I forgot you would have the day off. Maybe we can do something after I get home?” I suggested hoping to not completely crush his spirit. 

  He still looked a little upset before quickly smiling and nodding. “It’s okay, you go have fun with your friends, we can do something later.” It was clear from the sound of his voice that his smile was fake but I had to act like I believed he was okay.

  I was about to change the topic when I looked at my phone to see it was about time for me to go meet with Draken. “Shot I said I’d meet them at the mall in twenty minutes. I gotta go. I love you Takashi, have a good day without me and again I’m sorry we couldn’t spend the day together.” I said putting my dishes in the sink, placing a kiss to his cheek and running out the door. I heard the quiet ‘love you too’ as the door shut behind me. I had to fight the urge to call Draken and change plans just to go spend the day cuddling with Takashi, but I stayed on track knowing it would be worth it in the end.

   P.o.v change to Takashi

  It had been about an hour since Y/n left when his phone rang. Having been laying on the couch not really paying attention to whatever was on the Tv, Takashi answered not bothering to look at who was calling. “Mitsuya here, what’s up?” He asked as the call connected.

  “Nothing much, me and Yuzuha just wanted to call and say Happy Birthday.” It was Hakkai. He and Yuzuha were out of the country for one of Hakkai’s modeling gigs so they weren’t able to be part of the Takashi surprise party plan. 

  Thinking his friends had the date wrong he quickly pulled his phone from his ear, seeing the date across the screen he sighed. “Thanks guys, I totally forgot. And don’t worry about it, we can always hang out when you get back to Japan.” He said trying to sound like his thoughts weren’t racing.

  There was a pause on the other line before someone started speaking. “How did you forget your own birthday? Didn’t Y/n wish you a happy birthday or anything this morning?” It was Yuzuha, she sounded confused knowing that ever since Takashi had introduced Y/n to his friends, they had never once missed his birthday.

  Takashi let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah no, they probably just forgot. We’ve been busy the last few weeks and they had plans today with some friends, I’m sure they’ll remember later. It’s fine.” He explained, hoping that he was able to convince the siblings that he really was okay and that it was just an accident.

   “Are you sure they just forgot? In all the time we’ve known them, they have never once missed your birthday. What friends are they even hanging out with today cause most of your friends are the same people so wouldn’t they have reminded Y/n about it as well?” Yuzuha speculated. She was always the first one to get suspicious if anything ever seemed even the slightest bit fishy.

   “Don’t think like that Yuzuha, I’m sure y/n just forgot like Taka said. Don’t listen to her Taka, you know Yuzuha likes to jump to the worst case scenario all the time. Knowing Y/n if they didn’t forget they’re planning something and if they did forget they would move the earth to make up for it.” Hakka interjected, trying to stop Yuzuha’s toxic thoughts from making Takashi’s day worse.

   Hearing the siblings’ opinions he couldn’t help but let Yuzuha’s word get to him. Afterall he had been super stressed lately and his mind was running with the idea that maybe Y/n was hiding something from him. “Yeah, Y/n probably just forgot, it’s fine. Anyway I gotta go there’s another call coming in. It was nice to talk with you and thanks again. Bye” Takashi said, quickly hanging up the phone. There wasn’t another call he just wanted to sit and try and to remind himself that there is no way Y/n would ever do anything to hurt him.

 P.o.v switch back to normal + time skip to after meeting with Draken and setting up for the party

  Finally, everything is set up and ready to go. After bidding goodbye to Draken and the rest of the group who had come to help set up for the party this evening, I headed home. Reaching the front door I had to hide my excitement as I entered not wanting Taka to catch onto what I had planned. “Taka I’m home. I was thinking we could go out for dinner, what do you think?” I called out  looking for Takashi in the living room. When I didn’t get an immediate response, I was slightly worried but brushed it off. Maybe he was taking a nap, after all his bike is still parked outside so it’s not like he went anywhere.

  Making my way to our shared bedroom I was greeted by the sight of the normally super relaxed Takashi, looking like he had the most stressful day of his life sitting on the end of our bed. It was clear he hadn’t noticed me as he kept looking down at his phone like he was waiting for something to happen. “Is everything okay, Takashi?” I asked, moving to sit next to him.

   I watched as he jumped at the sound of my voice. “Huh, yeah everythings good.” He said, but I could tell from the sound of his voice he wasn’t being honest.

   “Are you sure, you didn’t notice me until I asked if everything was okay. And then it looked like you nearly jumped out of your skin when you finally did notice me. What’s wrong, did something happen while I was out?” I pushed a little harder, forgetting that I was supposed to be getting him ready for his surprise party and instead focused on figuring out if he was okay.

  There was a pause, before he stood up. I could tell from his posture that he was really upset right now. His normally slouched back was straight as a board and his hands were fidgeting with each other, showing that something was indeed wrong. “What day is it, Y/n?” Okay not the question I was expecting but I rolled with it.

  “Wednesday, why?” I responded not catching on to what he was getting at.

  He sighed before he spoke again. “I didn’t mean the day of the week, I meant the date. What day is it?” He asked again.

  Now the question made sense. Knowing what he was getting at I had to make a choice that would probably make our friends annoyed but It was the only choice I had. I could tell now what he was thinking and I didn’t want him to think about it any longer. “Okay first clear all of those ridiculous ideas out of your head. I didn’t forget your birthday and I would never ever do anything like that to hurt you.” I said moving to take his hands in mine. “Before you even ask, I was planning for it to be a surprise but the reason I went out today and acted like I forgot was because I’ve been planning a surprise party with the gang for the past week and we need to get a few things to finish stuff up.” I explained watching as he relaxed.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to Yuzuha, I’ve just been so stressed lately and when her and Hakkai called to say happy birthday my brain just broke I think.” He said with a soft chuckle, clearly feeling slightly embarrassed.

  Giving him a quick kiss, I chuckled at his apology. “It’s fine Takashi. I know you’ve been stressed with getting designs finished, which is why I wanted to plan a surprise party for you. But I do have to say next time you’re feeling stressed please refrain from listening to Yuzuha’s pessimistic thoughts.” I chuckled. “But also i really should have called and given them a heads up what was happening even though they can’t be here.” I finished, smiling at Takashi.

  He chuckled in response. “Yeah probably, would have saved me a few hours of self destructive thoughts. Anyway, you said you were planning a surprise party for me with the gang, what’s the plan now that I know?” He asked, making me remember I had to now explain this to a bunch of guys who were excited to for once surprise the unshockable Takashi Mitsuya.

  “Ummm, not sure. A) we can tell them that you know and just hang out and enjoy all the stuff we had planned or B) we can act like you have no idea and let them enjoy ‘surprising’ you.” I offered my ideas. “It’s up to you, but decide fast because I think Draken is gonna call to figure out where we are soon.” Right as I finished speaking my phone started to ring. “Speak of the devil, so mad up your mind, Birthday boy?” I teased as I grabbed my phone, giving him time to respond before answering.

   I watched as a mischievous grin spread across his face, as he grabbed the phone out of my hand, answering it, and putting it on speaker. “Y/N WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” Ah yes, the guy who hates when people are late. 

   “Hello Ken, may I ask why you are calling and then yelling at my wonderful Partner?” Takashi responded, apparently having decided to mess with his close friend. 

   I could hear Draken freeze for a moment, having not expected to hear Takashi answer the phone. “Takashi, how’s it going buddy? Y/n was supposed to be hanging out with Emma this evening and they’re late.” I had to hold back a laugh as we all knew that was the farthest from the truth. Don’t get me wrong but if I was gonna hang out with any of the Sano siblings it wouldn’t be Emma. She's great but we don’t have a lot in common.

   “You are a terrible liar, Draken, you know that. Anyways we’ll be there in thirty minutes, would you mind telling the gang that I already know about the party? Thanks bye.” Takashi called out the clear lie, before listening to Draken stutter for a second and hanging up the phone.

   Once the call ended he handed me my phone and moved to start getting ready to go. “You just wanted to fuck with him didn’t you?” I said laughing at how Draken responded to being called out.

   Takashi turned to look at me with his normal relaxed smirk, before nodding. “Yeah it’s fun, after all the chance doesn't happen often. Anyway we should get going, I hear there’s a wonderful party that the most amazing person has set up for me.” He said moving to the door of our room. I smiled and followed him out, ready to enjoy the evening with our old friends and possibly spend some time poking fun at Draken for his terrible ability to lie when put on the spot.

taglist:

@iheartamora

[munsonomenon]

⛧☾༺’Casual’༻☽⛧

Chapter II: Call It What You Want

⛧ pairing: rockstar! eddie x alt! fem reader

⛧ contains: angst, fluff, pining, slow burn, fwb

⛧ word count: 3.4k

⛧ previous chapter: here

⛧ warnings: allusions to smut ! mdni !

“Ugh, Robin I just don’t know, neither of these feels right.” You groan with your voice full of frustration, standing in front of your full-length mirror glaring at your reflection knowing you’re running out of time to make a decision. You have a hanger in either hand. Both are holding up two almost identical long black gowns, at least to Robin who never cared too much about these kinds of things. You take turns switching between the two comparing how the fabrics would compliment your silhouette.

Robin is sitting on the corner of your bed on the opposite side of the small room, sitting up on her elbows as she giggles quietly. “I don’t understand, you know you’re gonna look good in either of them. Just flip a coin or something.” She says with a caseous smile knowing that it’s not the response you’re looking for. You’ve changed your mind on what would fit your persona best almost every day this week. It took Robin only ten minutes in the men’s section of the local thrift store the two of you frequented, so you’re sure at this point she’s heard all but enough of your ranting.

“This isn’t a decision a coin can make, Robin! I’m ‘Elvira, Mistress Of The Darkness’. I need to be tantalizing!” You say dramatically with your voice low dragging out the end of your words, holding both arms out. Robin sits up laughing at you, turning to grab one of your throw pillows and hurls it towards your direction. “You are absolutely ridiculous.” She half-way shouts at you, letting another laugh slip through her words. You bend down to reach the pillow before sloppily tossing it back at her chest. She grabs onto it and holds it in her lap. “It’s only one night. I can almost guarantee you this isn’t an end-of-the-world, life-altering decision.” You roll your eyes, sighing at how relaxed Robin can be about every situation. “Okay, Fine! You be the coin then,” you state. “Heads… or tails.” switching between the two dresses hovering in front of your frame.

Robin has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, specifically since your seventh-grade band class. You two have seen each other’s endless cringe phases, every heartbreak the other had endured, and nursed each other back to health after more nights out than you can count. You’ve always thought she was the one person who truly knew you inside and out. Moving in together over the last summer really solidified that idea.

“Oh, Fun!’. Robin squeaks out hopping up to her feet being fully sarcastic. She crosses her arms over her chest giving a dramatic thinking face as if this was the most important choice she’s ever had to make. “Wow, and you think I’m bad at making decisions.” You scoff jokingly. “Tails. I like the sleeves. Kurt approved!’. She points to the second option, referencing her own costume, Kurt Cobain. The dress she picks has long off-the-shoulder sleeves and a slit up one of the legs. “You’re talking about yourself in the third person, as your Halloween costume, and I’m the ridiculous one?” You scoff. “You just referred to me as a coin, I think all options are on the table here.”

Amid the silence between your words, you’re startled by the sudden loud ringing from an incoming call. “Jesus, that’s like the third time today. He really is relentless.” Robin says. “You don’t even know that’s him.” You say defensively walking over to your nightstand grabbing your phone, laying both of the dresses down onto your comforter. You look over to Robin who is staring you down with her eyebrow raised, doing her best to bite her tongue. “So…?” She almost whispers. “Yeah okay, it’s him!” You spit out.

“I’m just gonna answer.” Walking over to Robin and grabbing her hand to lead her to the door, opening it in a way to kindly kick her out. She stops halfway through the doorway “How long are you gonna keep putting up with his ‘wannabe tough guy rockstar’ shtick?” She knows how these things go, and has seen the aftermath from each one. “Goodbye robin…” you drag out, putting the phone up to your ear and shutting the door on her. “You know, that wasn’t a very nice thing to do!” You hear muffled from the hallway outside your bedroom door. “Robin!” You protest, shouting through your teeth.

You turn, taking in a deep breath. “Hello?” You say sheepishly trying to play innocent. “Hey! There you are!” You can’t help but smile at the familiar voice on the other line. “Thought you had been dodging my calls.” He laughs out sarcastically, oblivious to your actions. That’s exactly what you had been doing but he didn’t need to know that. You pause for a second trying to gather yourself to avoid blowing your cover. “Oh, no, I’m sorry I- I just guess I’ve been caught up trying to get everything ready for tomorrow night. What’s up?” Attempting to sound sincere.

“You’re really still doing that Halloween thing with Harrington? I thought you would’ve given up on that by now.” He says almost judgmentally, which didn’t surprise you in the slightest, Eddie always had this territorial claim on you, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You roll your eyes and sigh quietly moving the phone away from your mouth before speaking again. “It’s more just for Robin, but we do this every year Eddie, I don’t know why you seem surprised.” you scoff.

“It’s whatever doll, as long as you’re still gonna make it tonight. Me and Gareth just finished up on soundcheck. Want you here tonight.” You can feel his excitement through the phone. Fuck. Tonight, it completely slipped your mind with everything going on. Maybe you were being more sincere than you had realized.

Corroded Coffin’s typical Tuesday night just happened to fall the night before Halloween. One of the only holidays Eddie ever really showed any interest in. It’s the one day out of the year where he can fully embrace all of the weird shit he’s into and everyone just goes along with it. He always played into that, you never knew anyone else so excited for an excuse to wear a cape and fake plastic fangs out in public, but he did it. Every. Single. Year. Without fail.

Eddie has had tonight’s date circled on his calendar for months, you were there with him as he did it. The child-like gleam in his smile as he realized they would have a show the night before his favorite day of the year was unforgettable. He circled the date obnoxiously large in red pen, adding ‘most metal night ever!!!’. The two of you were sprawled out across his bed, half nude from the intimacy you shared earlier in the night. Eddie had his guitar in his lap lazily strumming whatever tune had found its way into his mind at the moment and a lit cigarette dangling from his swollen lips. You are on his he opposite side resting on your hips, propping yourself up with your elbow. All you’re able to do is stare, completely entranced by the scene before your eyes, lost in the high of his presence. He springs up quickly moving his guitar under his arms and his cigarette between his index and middle fingers.

“What if I played you your favorite song at our show that night?” He whispers devilishly. You scoff in response “You don’t even know my favorite song, Eddie.” He places a hand over his chest, putting on his best show of being dramatically offended by your remarks. “You really think that, huh? I’m hurt sweetheart- of course, I know what it is.” He smirks his words in full defense. “For Whom The Bell Tolls. You told me the first night you came out to see the band. No surprise to me you can’t recall that, you were all over me.” He laughs blowing smoke from his last hit. You lean over and playfully punch him in his upper arm. “I was not all over you I was just-“ He cuts off your words, inching closer to closing the space between you two. “Just what? Hm?” His voice dripped with seduction. “Just getting to… know you better.” Lying through your teeth. “Maybe want to get to know me a little more, right now Doll?” His voice fizzles out slowly with every word, finally closing the gap between both of your lips.

You knew how much that night meant to him already, and he wanted you included. A perfect example of one of the many ways he had your heart tied down. No matter how long he strung along the idea of what you two could become if he could just give his ego a rest, you were completely wrapped around his finger.

“Dollface? You still there…?” Brought back to reality as his voice rings through your ear snapping you back to your conversation. “Yes! I uh- I’m sorry, what were you saying?” You spill out quickly, overwhelmed and caught up in the memories of the night you planned this all. “Our show tonight, you’re gonna be here right?” he almost pleads. Your hand swipes over your face as you crinkle your nose. “Oh yeah! You’re talking about that group Corroded coffin aren’t you?” You joke attempting to ease the tension. “Hm… I’m not sure if I’ll make it, heard a lot of sketchy things about their guitar player you know? Left a bit of a bitter taste in my mouth.” Hoping he doesn’t catch on to the fact that you completely blanked on your shared plans.

All he can do in response is chuckle in a way you can hear him smirking through the phone. “Oh, that right? Interesting you bring that up actually because the last I heard, their vocalist is kind of sweet on you.” Playing along with your game. “Is that so? Never would’ve guessed such a thing” you say with your bottom teeth between your teeth, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “Think he’s even planning on taking you back to his place tonight, take that bitter taste right out of your mouth, sweeten up the deal.” He almost growls in your ear. You feel a hot flush pull its way up to the surface of your cheeks, rolling your eyes at how cocky he can be. “Very smooth Munson, guess you’re just lucky you’re good at more than one thing.” You hear him chuckle again.

“Seriously though, be here tonight. Swing by early? Around seven, if you can make it by then. Share a couple of drinks with me before you’re forced to admire me from afar the rest of the night.” You can already sense where his mind is at for his plans for the two of you once their set is over. “Coudnt miss out on seeing if that little rumor you’ve heard is true or not. I’ll see you soon Ed’s.” Your face now fully embracing the flush he brought upon you, he always found a way to reel you right back in. “Looking forward to it, Dollface. See ya.” His voice is sweet as he ends the call.

You flop back down on top of your mattress as a wave of emotion surges around you. Eddie was the one vice you could never force yourself to kick. There was just something so intoxicating about what you two shared. For as long as you two had known each other there was just something about Munson that just did it for you. You and Eddie were never remarkably close in High school, but you always liked to think you two both had this mutual agreement that there was something more sincere between you than either of you liked to lead on.

A few shared classes and small bursts of conversations in passing through the school halls were the main things keeping you two intertwined. Eventually, he had built up the courage to fully present his full self to you by inviting you to bear witness to his “satanic cult of Hellfire”. Your first real glace into his sickly sweet confidence that he couldn’t help but radiate once in character. You wish you could say this became a familiar practice, but to your surprise, Eddie had fallen victim to the high of the chase for the queen of Hawkin HIgh- Chrissy Cunningham. His first-ever real relationship, nearly squashing all of your newly found infatuation. From what you’ve heard through friends around town, they didn’t end up last much longer than a few months after that, once Eddie learned Chrissy had only been with him to score a cheap deal on whatever drugs he could offer her, he called it quits. Things between you and Eddie especially drifted apart after graduation. With nothing to force the two of you two together your fire slowly dwindled out with time.

Years have gone by since then but you still always felt a tug in your heart when you thought back to him. Around that same time you started a new part-time job over the summer, at the freshly opened record shop in your town. You had figured that the easy cash and your admiration and knowledge of music would make this chapter of life a breeze, even though barely any of the customers that came in bothered to browse the rock and metal bins you were so excited for. Today was like any other of the few shifts you’ve worked thus far. Checking out customers at the back counter, and going behind them to reorganize the various records the way they were intended to be.

You’re standing over the indie section of the shop as you hear the slight jingling of the front door opening. You turn to put on your usual “Welcome in, let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.” bit when you’re suddenly frozen in place by the sight of a familiar curl-topped silhouette that strolls through the door. Your breath hitches in your throat before you can ever open your mouth to speak. Every nearly buried feeling you had instantly rose back to the surface when your eyes met the brown doe eyes across from yours. You start to turn on your heel to make a quick exit but you aren’t quick enough, followed by a soft but confused grin from his plush lips. You shoot him a shy wave before he makes his way closer to you.

“You have to be shitting me, is that who I think it is?” He laughs out in disbelief. “The one and only.” you say awkwardly. He bites his tongue in his cheek before speaking again, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I really only came here to check the place out, but this is much more exciting than any album I would’ve found.”. You try your best to suppress the rush of fluttering throughout your stomach but it’s no use. Up until this moment, you hadn’t ever fully understood the extent of how much your silly high school crush was still stuck inside of you. “Well, you can’t come all this way and just not pick anything up.” Needing to change the subject before you melt. “Shit, guess you’re right. What do you recommend?” He purrs, swinging his arm out to the side and inviting you to take him toward whichever direction of the shop you need access to.

“Right this way.” you start walking towards the new releases section. “Yes, ma’am.” He utters seductively. You’re glad you’re facing the other direction because the rose tint of your cheeks would’ve been impossible to shield. Moments later you’re flicking the individual records between your nimble fingers before you find the one you’re searching for. “How about…this.” You sway your hips to turn to present him with the record of your choice. “just came out last month, a bit more underground and on the heavier side, but I figure you’re into that kind of thing.” you say confident in your decision. “Hell yeah, that’s perfect.” He mouths excitedly, placing the album in his hand. “I’ll have to uh- check it out.” His eyes traced the curves of your body, his words laced with a double meaning. Fuck, if he hadn’t realized yet he definitely knows the effect his words have on you now.

You both walk over to the cash register to finalize the sale. “you uh, you still in that band?” trying to fill in the awkward gaps with conversation. “Corroded Coffin?” he chuckles, eyes on yours as he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. “Yes! That’s the one.” your voice full of joy. “Yeah actually, I am. We play over at The Hideout every Tuesday night. You should come out next time.” he offers. “I’d love that actually, oh uh- here is your change by the way. Thanks for coming by.” not wanting to end the conversation even though you have to. “Shit yeah, almost slipped my mind.” he says before walking to the exit. “Hey, who knows maybe one day I’ll come in here and buy my own record off of you.” he shouts across the small shop before moving through the door.

Holding up to your end of the bargain you show up to The Hideout the very next Tuesday. The band had already started playing by the time you made it. It wasn’t hard for Eddie to spot you from the stage once you walked in with there only a handful of people at the bar since it was a weeknight. His face instantly lights up in a big goofy grin as he tries to keep his composure for the rest of their set. As soon as he’s off stage he finds his way towards you and orders your drink of choice, a vodka redbull. There’s not much you can say about that night, most of it is a faint drunken memory of his tongue down your throat in his favorite booth and your hand tangled in his hair or gripping the sheet he laid over the mattress in the back of his van. What you can say is that night changed everything from then on.

You lean over the check the time on the clock on your bedside table and start to get ready for whatever tonight may bring.

You straighten your waist-length jet-black hair, leaving your bangs a little messy. Your eyes are dressed in a dust-colored smokey eye, a thick wing of black eyeliner, and bold lashes. To no one’s surprise, you struggle to pick an outfit. You end up going with a cropped white tank top that shows off your form-fitting black bra underneath and a pair of ripped-up black denim shorts. You accidentally rip through part of your fishnet tights putting them on when your zipper gets caught, but you decide it adds to your aesthetic. A thick black cardigan and loose beanie to keep you warm until you get inside the venue which you know from experience will be full of body heat, and a pair of platform combat boots finish off your look before you grab your bag and keys to head off.

Almost instantaneously as you walk through your bedroom door shutting it behind you, Robin spots you and knows exactly where you’re heading. “Wow, he really got you back that easy huh?.” you groan and roll your eyes. “Robin come on, it’s only one night, he invited me ages ago.” pleading for her understanding after you promised her you swore Eddie off for good. “It’s been one night for…” turning up her blank wrist and looking at an imaginary wrist watch “What?…almost a year now?”. You take a deep breath and walk towards the front door of your shared house. “One night Robin! One. Night,” you say facing the opposite direction of her and shutting the door. As you grab your keys from your bag to turn the lock you hear a faint, muffled “Use protection!” shouted from the other side of the door. “I hate you!” you tell back sarcastically before heading to your car.

Maybe Robin was right, and you should give up hope on Eddie coming around the idea of you two being more than just casual fuck-buddies, but you both know you are far too stubborn and hopelessly in love for that to happen. Whatever he wanted to call you, you were his.

༺ the end.

chapter III: ‘bite the hand that feeds’

coming: soon!

[dark-fics-4-you]

Nervous pt. 1

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: DUBCON, possibly NONCON, smut, degrading, drugs,

Synopsis: You never understood why your best friend’s brother seemed to hate you.

You had been best friends with Sarah Cameron for almost your whole life.

You had hundreds of memories of the two of you running around Tannyhill and playing tag with her and her older brother Rafe, and later Wheezie when she was old enough.

You had always felt like the Cameron’s were a second family to you, ‘the door is always open’ as Ward would say. It was a nice change of pace from your parents’ house, which always felt stiff and cold when they were around. Tannyhill, however, was teeming with life and exciting playdates.

As you grew up, you spent plenty of time at the Cameron’s, becoming closer over time with Sarah and Wheezie. Rafe on the other hand…

He became different halfway through high school, started floating around a different crowd. His drug use was nothing new to you, and although you were sad to see him going down that path, you couldn’t say you hated it completely. It stopped the staring.

You had first noticed it your freshman year. Rafe was a sophomore, coming back to school after a summer growth spurt that gave him a boost in height, and broad shoulders that made him seem much more intimidating.

At first, you thought you must have been imagining it. Or maybe misinterpreting? You tried to brush off the feeling of his eyes burning into your back for weeks before you finally had to acknowledge it.

He denied it of course, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he seemed almost happy that you had finally brought it up? Like he had been waiting for the confrontation. “Rafe I know what I’ve been seeing, okay? So if you have a problem with me, just say it!”

Rafe just chuckled, tongue darting out to brush his lower lip. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I be paying you any attention?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking you!” You snapped at him, your fingers meeting the skin between your eyebrows as you tried to soothe the headache you could feel coming on. He was playing games and you knew it. You just didn’t know why.

“Maybe I was looking at Sarah and not you, did you ever think of that, Y/N?” You balked at this, and you realized you probably had been with Sarah all the times you had noticed him. But his answer didn’t feel right. You were certain you had caught him looking right at you on several occasions

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest before replying, “Whatever, just, leave both of us alone then. I don’t think Sarah would like you staring either.”

________________________

It didn’t stop the staring, but Rafe at least looked somewhat ashamed on the times you had locked eyes with him since your talk. The feeling of his glare on the back of your neck became less frequent, and you had finally felt like you could relax somewhat around him.

That is, until you started seeing him inside the Cameron residence more often. Rafe made a game out of finding all of the things you were most sensitive about just so he could taunt you. The way your voice sounded, how your jokes weren’t funny, and insensitive quips about your changing body became the norm.

Rafe enjoyed pushing your buttons and you didn’t have the first clue as to why.

The Rafe of your childhood was so different from the one you knew now. He used to be actually kind of sweet and fun, face lighting up at your stories and always wanting to play board games. And then one day a flip switched in him and he didn’t like you anymore, so you became the target of all of his rude comments.

“Dressed like Pogue trash.”

“Your chest is still so flat are you sure you’re even a girl, Y/N?”

And when you finally did grow tits? “No one wants to fuck a girl who shows off her body that much.”

All of these comments left you sputtering in anger, but getting mad at him only seemed to increase his enjoyment and he just became more brazen.

You had talked to Sarah about it, but he always waited until you were alone before insulting you, never allowing anyone to witness it. You made it your mission to never be alone with him, but he made that difficult, if not impossible.

It seemed like he was always waiting around the corner, wanting to pounce and tear you to shreds when you least expected it.

When you arrived at the Cameron’s that night for a sleepover with Sarah, you were ready to blow off some steam. It had been a tough week. You were both Juniors, struggling to slog through finals week, and you had just gotten a C+ on a project you had put your blood, sweat, and tears into. The distraction was very needed.

You rang the doorbell, waiting a few moments before the door opened and you met eyes with Rafe.

He looked high, eyes glassy and not fully focused, but they narrowed when he realized it was you. He was standing in front of the door, body angled to keep you from entering.

“Umm, wanna let me in?” You nervously laughed, thinking he would step out of the way entirely, but he gave you an exasperated look and moved so he was only blocking half of the door.

Whatever, he was probably so high he didn’t know what he was doing, you thought to yourself, stepping into the doorway, and trying to go past him without bumping into him, but Rafe shifted, getting uncomfortably close, chest brushing up against your back as you passed. What the fuck??

You turned and shot him a look.

He just raised his eyebrows in a silent, ‘what?’ like what he just did wasn’t weird, but the slight twitch in his lips told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

You chose to ignore his behavior, knowing that he wouldn’t bother you while you were with Sarah. You climbed the stairs, but glanced back one more time to confirm what you already knew, Rafe was glaring daggers at you.

———————————————

In Sarah’s room you closed the door, and greeted her with a hug. You were still unnerved about your run in with Rafe though, and mentioned it to her.

She also found it strange, nose wrinkling at your recollection of what just happened, “I think he’s just trying to intimidate you. He hates me, so he has to hate anyone I like.”

It made enough sense, but the look in his eyes didn’t feel like just hate. There was something else there, something deeper under it all that you could not figure out. Honestly, it frightened you.

You didn’t want to dwell on it though, quickly changing the subject, and the two of you settled on a movie to watch together. It was a cheesy romance movie, taking your mind off of the things troubling you and you turned on the sequel when it was finished.

An hour in, Sarah was getting tired and you were too, but you wanted to go to the kitchen to grab a snack before bed. You quietly tiptoed out of her room, not wanting to disturb her, closing the door behind you.

You cautiously looked around for any sign of Rafe, and made you way downstairs when you saw the coast was clear. His door was still closed.

You descended the stairs, and hurried to the kitchen. The Cameron’s always had a stocked pantry so you knew you would find something to snack on. You pulled out some chips and were putting them into a bowl to bring back to Sarah’s room, when you heard a click behind you and the lights went off. You spun around and saw Rafe leering in the doorway of the kitchen. Your heart pounded as he flicked the lights back on.

“Boo.” He joked, a low chuckle escaping his lips. He was shirtless, wearing only striped pajama bottoms that hung low off his hips, revealing the trail of darker hairs below his belly button. Rafe’s eyes were glued to you, but you couldn’t make out what he was thinking.

“Ha ha,” you said humorously, throwing a nervous look his way. “Also scrounging for midnight snacks?”

“Something like that,” he drawled, approaching the fridge. You noticed the way his arm and back muscles rippled as he opened the door, and you felt your cheeks grow warm.

You turned back to grab your bowl of chips, wanting to get away from Rafe as soon as possible, suddenly feeling exposed in your shorts and tank top. It’s not like he had never seen you like that before, but there was a tension in the air now that made you nervous, even though you weren’t sure why.

Rafe apparently found what he was looking for because he closed the fridge, but didn’t make any moves to leave the kitchen.

You looked at him over your shoulder, puzzled, but his face was unreadable, and he didn’t seem like he was going to say anything. You turned towards to kitchen door to return upstairs and stiffened slightly when you realized he was trailing behind you.

You ascended the stairs, all too aware of his close presence, and you sped up, only to trip and stumble on one of the steps, falling back against Rafe’s bare chest.

He steadied the two of you, one arm wrapped around your waist, fingers ghosting across your bare skin where your shirt ended. “Watch your step, Y/N. Do I really make you that nervous?” He purred in your ear and your skin crawled.

You swore you felt him lightly pressing his hips against your ass.

You wrenched yourself out of his grip, hissing quietly, “Cut it out, Rafe! This isn’t funny.” You hurried up the stairs, the taller man still following close behind you. Your chest tightened with anxiety as you approached Sarah’s room but you didn’t make it in time.

Rafe’s fingers tightened around your wrist, coming up from behind to drag you into his room, locking the door behind him.

You were confused and terrified, you thought Rafe hated you all these years, but now his actions towards you were beginning to make more sense.

Rafe turned from his door, a smirk playing on his lips as he drank you in with his eyes, “Is Sarah still awake?”

You shook your head no and took a step back as Rafe took one towards you. He cocked an eyebrow, “What are you so scared of? Hm?”

Rafe towered over you, looking down at you with a hunger in his eyes. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you finally got it.

“Rafe,” you began weakly. “Sarah is just down the hall.”

“That’s okay, we can be quiet. She won’t have to know.” He placed a hand beneath your chin, turning your face up to him as he grew closer.

His lips pressed to yours, swallowing your protests, and he walked you to his bed, pressing your back into it as he deepened the kiss. His hands trailed from your back to your hips, sliding to squeeze your ass over your shorts and you squeaked. His fingers bunched up the thin material of your shorts and he pinched your bare skin, lightly groaning against your mouth. Rafe’s lips trailed down your chin to your neck, and he sucked a tender spot, lightly nipping at the soft flesh.

Your head was spinning, the feeling of Rafe’s hands and lips on you confusing your thoughts. “Rafe, please don-”

“Shhh. Quiet, remember?” His lips met yours again, and he brought his hands to your chest, fingers plucking at your barely covered breasts. You pressed your hands to your chest and he batted them away with annoyance.

Rafe ground his hips into you, and you felt his hard length moving against your clothed core. His hands met your waist, harshly pressing down onto your hip bones. He hooked two fingers under the elastic of your shorts and slid them down your legs. He lightly pushed you onto your back, legs still hanging over the edge.

He lowered himself to his knees, removing your panties, and his blue eyes met yours. It was a look that said he wanted to devour you. His hands danced across your thighs and your breath hitched.

Rafe drew closer to your core and you gasped when you felt him slowly push his index finger into you. He curled his finger inside you, amazed at how tight you were gripping him.

He added his middle finger, and you squeezed your eyes shut at the pressure between your legs as he pushed it in to the hilt. Your eyes shot open when you felt his lips close around your clit and you couldn’t stop the whine that escaped.

You bucked your hips against his movements, the haze of pleasure you felt clouding your better judgement. Rafe’s tongue flicking against your sensitive flesh had you seeing stars, and you felt the coil in your gut tightening.

He licked your clit, fingers still expertly massaging your walls. Your fingers curled into his hair as you trembled against him, and you were pushed over the edge. You came with a moan that Rafe quickly swallowed with his lips as he moved himself on top of you, and you could taste yourself on his tongue.

You couldn’t think straight, head still reeling from your orgasm, and you tried again to push him off of you.

“Y/N stop it.” Rafe grabbed your arms. “It felt really good didn’t it?” He cooed.

You hesitantly nodded, afraid of what might happen if you said no.

“So..” he trailed off looking into your eyes. “Maybe you should return the favor.”

Your stomach twisted and you finally found your voice again, protesting weakly, “Rafe I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Hm? Why not?” He challenged, slowly edging down his pj pants.

You didn’t know how to get out of this. “Sarah…” you tried again, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything to stop him. Hot tears were pooling in your eyes.

“She’s sleeping, she won’t hear a thing.” Rafe could not be reasoned with, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He pushed his pj pants down, his obviously hard length pressed against his boxers.

You scrambled to sit up but Rafe shoved you onto your back again, crawling on top of you and spreading your legs with his own.

“R-rafe, please,” you were almost in tears, the fear gripping your chest only growing with every second.

“Hey, Y/N. I promise, I’ll make sure it’s not too much for you. Okay? Trust me.” He traced your jaw with his thumb before pulling you in for a gentle kiss, his reassuring words were anything but. Rafe removed his boxers, wetting the tip of his cock with the fingers he just had inside you, stroking himself a couple times before lining himself up with your entrance.

He hissed as he slowly forced himself into you, the pressure between your legs was unlike anything you had felt before. Rafe took a moment to adjust before pulling his hips back and then thrusting in again, pace picking up.

You bit back a cry, hating the way you could feel your walls squeezing around his cock.

Rafe’s hips snapped against yours, his bed rocking with his movements. He trailed a hand around your throat, increasing the pressure and you gasped.

The look in his eye was pure amazement. He couldn’t believe how tight you were, how good the gasps you made sounded. He fucked you deeper, and the sound of his flesh slapping yours filled the room.

Rafe stared between your legs, obsessed with the way his cock stretched you out. He almost couldn’t believe how wet you were.

Rafe’s lips met yours again, the hand at your throat tightening. You didn’t want to admit to yourself how good he felt as he violated you.

“You feel like you were made for me.” He breathed against your lips, and he grabbed your leg, moving it to his shoulder to fuck you at a deeper angle.

You squeezed your eyes shut, and you knew your release was approaching again.

Rafe was close, pace growing ravenous as he slammed into you. He reached his fingers to toy with your clit, the combined sensations making you feel lightheaded. You whined when his fingers twitched again and the band inside you snapped, and you came a second time.

Rafe clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle your moan, and your legs shook as Rafe brutally fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own.

His hips spasmed and he came with a groan, spilling his seed into your warm cunt. You shuddered, feeling the stickiness spilling out down your thighs as Rafe pulled out.

You couldn’t look him in the eye, disgusted with him and yourself. You turned away from him, sniffing and trying to find your clothes. He didn’t try to stop you, still sitting on his bed nonchalantly.

As you walked out of his room, you felt his eyes boring into you, and you knew that the staring was far from over.

[evandarya]

This is my entry into the BatPham Disney AU summer event!

Shaytan Alhufra

The Hunchback of Notre Dame AU

[Read on Ao3]

Day 1

(Death/Resurrection)

“Mom and Dad are out this weekend, and Jazz is planning on spending the whole time at the library, if you guys want to come over,” Danny said conversationally one day over the lunch table as he stirred the gravy into what passed for mashed potatoes.

“Can’t.” Sam stabbed a cucumber slice out of her salad angrily. “My mom is taking me dress shopping for some party over the summer.”

“Me, either, dude,” Tucker said, struggling to open his milk carton. “Lex Corp is unveiling a new prototype drone and I want to watch the live demonstration. Last time something caught on fire, it was awesome.”

“Oh, okay.” Danny squashed his disappointment and fear. He really didn’t want to be alone in the house right now. Not with the empty hole in the wall in the basement. His parents said the portal didn’t work, that it might never work if they couldn’t figure out what was going on with it, but that didn’t stop the feeling that something was lurking in the darkness, beckoning to him. “Maybe I can come over and watch it with you?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” Tucker said, giving up on his mangled milk carton. Sam took it with a sigh and opened it easily and handed it back to him. “You boys have fun. I’m going to try to negotiate for only one petticoat this time.”

“Ew, people still wear those?” Tucker asked, recoiling from her with a grimace.

“No, and I don’t know why Mom insists I do.”

Danny couldn’t stop himself from laughing at his friends' dual looks of disgust. This weekend would be fine. He would be fine.

***

Danny unlocked the front door to the empty house and let himself in. It was dark, but enough light was filtering in through the living room windows that he didn’t feel the need to turn on a light. He locked the door behind himself and made his way to the kitchen. Tucker’s family was great. They never treated him any differently for what his parents did for a living and avoided the subject since they knew it made him uncomfortable. His parents studied ghosts, something that can’t even be proven. How did they expect him to make friends when he was the but of all the other kid’s jokes on career day?

Danny sighed and filled a glass with water from the sink. Even the city water was safer to drink than the pitcher in the fridge, stored next to ectoplasm samples, because why would they put a fridge in the lab when they have a perfectly good one in the kitchen? Mr. Foley had cooked dinner, spaghetti, and meatballs with garlic bread and salad, and Danny was always thankful for a dinner he didn’t have to kill a second time. He finished his water and put the glass in the almost full dishwasher. He should run it, but he didn’t know if Jazz would eat when she came home, so he left it. He could run it in the morning either way.

Right now he wanted to go to bed and sleep while his parents were out and the constant noise from the lab was at an all-time low. It was never really quiet in the lab, with too many machines whirring and beeping with ongoing experiments, too much electricity surging through the wires, but without his parents tinkering and exclamations of discovery or disappointment it was almost eerie how quiet it was. Danny walked quickly past the basement door and headed up the stairs to his room. He made it about halfway when he heard it. There was a skittering. Something was moving around in the lab. A mouse? He hoped not. He saw what ectoplasm did to hotdogs, he did not want to see what it did to a mouse. He opened the basement door on silent hinges and padded his way down the stairs. He didn’t dare turn on a light in case he scared the mouse away. He crept across the lab, eyes on the edges and corners of the room where he knew mice liked to hide. He didn’t see anything, but it was pretty dark.

He heard it again, the quiet almost non-existent whisper of tiny feet on metal from behind him. He turned, dread pooling in his stomach, toward what he knew was behind him. The empty void of the broken portal. Its metal jaws stretched seven feet in each direction, but it felt much bigger than that. Cables and wires hung from the walls and spilled from its open end like the tongue of some great beast. Someone could mistake it for dead, but Danny felt in his gut that it was sleeping. The beast was sleeping and a mouse was running around in its mouth. He didn’t know what it was that made him take a step forward, to enter that great maw. Some stupidity or bravery took hold of him and he placed one foot into the void. Then the other. Then one more step and his foot caught on a loose cable.

You hear, sometimes, of how people in extreme situations say the world slowed down around them. He and Jazz had watched a documentary about it, once. The doctors they had talked to said it had something to do with the adrenaline and your body’s reaction to sudden stress. It had never really come up again. He was so rarely in life-threatening situations. But as soon as his foot caught on the cable and he started tipping forward he saw everything. His hands shot up on their own accord, he saw the button, grey like the surrounding metal, and felt it hit his palm and depress. He heard the beast around him wake up and shudder to life. A ball of green fire built in the depths of its throat and sparked along the metal, raced up his arm and across his chest. He saw it all before the pain registered. He barely had time to scream before everything went green and then faded to black.

***

Ra’s Al Ghul walked into the chamber like he owned the world. In essence, he did. He owned the world and ruled it from the shadows, the same way he had been doing for centuries. He was rarely surprised anymore, and when something did happen to surprise him he often took interest in it. He circled the pool of Lazarus water, his underlings bowing their heads in deference or fear, he didn’t care which. Something was happening that he had never seen before. The pool was bubbling, almost like it was boiling, except the temperature hadn’t changed. A dark vapor poured off the surface and gathered and swirled around the roof of the chamber. It hung there like a cloud threatening a storm.

Suddenly he saw something in the water, something pale white floating up to the surface.

“Everyone out,” He said quietly. He needn’t shout, everyone obeyed him without question. Soon he was alone in the room watching whatever it was slowly make its way to the surface. It took several minutes and several more slow circles of the pool for the body to emerge. Ra’s carefully pulled the body from the water and laid it down on the cool stone. It was a boy, young, maybe mid-teens, with pale skin tinged blue and hair as white as fresh snow. The clothes he had been wearing, a simple t-shirt and blue jeans, were in tatters, burned away and barely hanging on. Ra’s checked the boy’s neck for a pulse. He didn’t find one, instead, he found a green mark like lightning branching up his neck and face, and disappearing under the collar of his ruined shirt. Ra’s pulled the garment off and it practically disintegrated in his hands. The lighting stretched across the boy’s chest and down his left arm, ending in a nasty-looking burn on his palm that oozed a vibrant green fluid.

“Pit demon.” he spat, standing up quickly and taking a few steps back. He had heard of them and read about them in texts. How they had come out of the pits and wreaked havoc on whoever was unfortunate enough to be near. How they bled a green more vibrant than anything that occurred in nature, even the pits paled in comparison. Ra’s had half a mind to separate its head from its body and bury them in separate parts of the world before it woke up and started causing problems. But then it stirred and choked, sitting up quickly and vomiting Lazarus water onto the stone floors. Its arms shook as it held itself up. Then it stood up, rising on unsteady feet that quickly left the ground. It’s arms flailed in wide circles and it wobbled in the air. It was like it had never flown before like it was a baby. A cruel smile found its way onto Ra’s face. The Lazarus pits had given him a baby pit demon, and he had an idea of how it could be of use to him.

He was even kind enough to bestow upon it a name: Shaytan Alhufra, Demon of the Pit.

[dei-lab-assistant]

Nothing Builds a Friendship Like a Crisis (part 4)

Co-written with multifandoms27

Summary: Mokuba has been kidnapped as the two of you performed his monthly inspection of Kaiba Land. Reginald O'Malley, the president of rival gaming company Knightly Rook, is responsible for the kidnapping, and has challenged Kaiba to a tag duel in order to win back Mokuba. To your surprise, Kaiba asked you to be his partner for the duel, since Yugi was out of town. As you head to the rooftop helipad, you hope you're not getting in over your head. Dub canon plus a version of DSOD. Female Reader. Set maybe two years post DSOD. (This chapter does not contain playing the card game...) Fun fact: I always write my Reader character with personality and specific description. Each reader character also has a specific place in the Yu-Gi-Oh world, and is basically an OC with set connections and feelings about the various canon characters and other reader characters. This is reader B, who is immune to the siren song of romance, cheap, eccentric, logical, and hands-on. Word count: 1,647 You can read part 1 here. You can read part 2 here. You can read part 3 here. You stood inside the elevator which had roof access, feeling the floor press against your feet as you and Kaiba shot upwards. The doors slid open to reveal a helipad. Stepping out onto the roof, you squinted in the blinding summer sunlight as heat radiated up from underfoot and down from above. After ditching your hat, abandoning your sunglasses, and replacing your t-shirt with a fitted black shirt and a short white vest, you had run after Kaiba, barely catching the elevator in time. Now, staring at your shadow, you smiled at your silhouette; it was angular, with your capris falling to your midcalf, and the vest cutting off halfway down your torso, with a high collar and flaring out shoulders. It was a good image, a strong outline, and it sort of reminded you of something… Team Rocket. You groaned. 

Kaiba strode past you towards the helicopter, his hair ruffling in the wind created by the rotors. He moved without hesitation. This was your last chance to back out, but your mind discarded the suggestion. When you jumped into a project, you didn’t look back. This was no different. As the artificial wind and engine noise increased, you followed Kaiba inside the helicopter, feeling the sudden lack of blustering air as you pulled the door shut behind you. It was surprisingly quiet inside.   

You almost planted your face against the window during takeoff. For a few minutes, the excitement of being in a helicopter drowned out everything else. Settling down on the bench opposite Kaiba, you tried to focus on your deck and prepare for the upcoming duel. “You look nervous.” Kaiba commented. “I am nervous. We’re about to duel for your brother. What if I’m not up to the task? What if we lose?” You regretted sharing your worries as soon as you said them.

“I don’t lose.”

“Oh, we both know that’s not true.”

Kaiba scowled at you. “I don’t lose to two-bit schemers like O’Malley.”

Fair point. Kaiba was an excellent duelist, one of the best in the world. “I might. I’m a decent duelist, but my deck is hardly top notch, and—”

“You won’t hold me back. I’ll win on my own if I need to.” Kaiba’s voice was ice. His eyes softened a smidge. “But you’re a competent duel partner.”

Kaiba believed in your ability? You gave a faint smile, he wouldn’t have asked you otherwise. “I try.”

“You better.”

After a few minutes of silence, Kaiba spoke up again. “Let me see your deck.”

Switching to the bench Kaiba was sitting on, you pulled your deck out of your belt box and spread the cards between you. Working at a game shop brought advantages; you had managed to get some decent cards, and were using one of the new ‘archetypes.’ When you first found out about the Kozmo cards, you knew you wanted to try and build a deck with them. But even with an employee discount, and Yugi’s Grandpa helping track down cards, you had barely managed to build the simplest form of the deck. 

“Hm.” Kaiba grabbed his silver briefcase from the floor and opened it. His laptop was strapped into the lid, and the base of the case held thousands of dollars worth of cards. Your eyes widened. “Borrow a few for your deck.” It sounded more like an order than an offer.

“I can’t start swapping my cards right before a duel! It could mess up my strategies.” It was stupid, but you didn’t want to feel like you owed him anything.

Kaiba planted his fingers on a few of your cards and slid them across the bench towards you, “I’m offering you a chance to replace your weak staples with stronger options. Take it.”

“Fine, but I’m giving them back after we win. I don’t need your charity.” You took the briefcase from Kaiba and perused the contents. This would require thought. After selecting a few cards like Ice Dragon’s Prison and Pot of Greed, you showed Kaiba the chosen cards and slipped them into your deck. He nodded approvingly.   

Kaiba pulled out his own deck, rifling through the cards idly until he found one of his favorites. 

“Can I look at one of your Blue-Eyes?” You were surprised at your own audacity, but if you wanted Kaiba to treat you like an equal, you would need to act like one.

“Sure.” Extending two fingers, he held the card out.                    

Up till now, you had only held the ripped Blue-Eyes at the game shop. This one was beautiful. You could imagine its roar. Feel its presence. Holding the card was an honor—you felt like Kaiba had handed you part of his soul. 

“Do you know what that card represents?” Kaiba asked.  

“You?”

Kaiba almost smiled. “You spend too much time with Yugi.”

You realized your mistake. “Your power.” It wasn’t a guess anymore, you knew you were right.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards for a moment, before seriousness won out again. 

You knew the card text without needing to look at it, “This legendary dragon is a powerful engine of destruction. Virtually invincible, very few have faced this awesome creature and lived to tell the tale.” 

“Listen,” Kaiba stared at you intently, “We’re about to step into enemy territory. You can’t show weakness or fear, because our adversaries will pounce on any opening you provide.”

You nodded. “I’ll try, but I don’t feel overly confident right now.”

“Your feelings don’t matter.” Kaiba slammed his deck down on the bench between you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” It was the truth.

“Then remember my power is behind you now, and act like it.”  

“Kaiba…” You saw no deception in his eyes, only trust, and determination. “Thank you.” You handed back his card, realizing he was letting you into his world because he wanted you at his side. Taking a deep breath, you asked, “How long until we arrive?”

“Less than an hour.”

You leaned back against the wall, which vibrated as the copter beelined for your destination. Closing your eyes, running over everything your deck could do, you tried to focus, until the events of the day caught up to you, and you dozed off. Some time later, your head jerked up as your eyes flew open. It was too quiet. The helicopter had landed on another roof, this one in rolling mountains, surrounded by forests. Standing near the front, Kaiba held a muttered conversation with the pilot. You stretched and rubbed your neck. “This is our destination?” Outside the helicopter, men in suits and sunglasses gathered—a security team. Closing your eyes, you rolled them to slightly reposition your contacts; it was almost time for action.

Kaiba strode to the door. “Remember what I told you.” 

You cracked your knuckles, nodding. “Let’s do this.” Nerves settled themselves; playing a game was easier than waiting for it to begin.

Throwing open the door, Kaiba jumped down. Inhaling deeply, you drew yourself up to your full height; you had always been comfortable with yourself—it was time to stop worrying about manners and act more like Kaiba. You grinned, casually stepping out the doorway and landing beside him. It was cooler here than in Domino City, the air filled with the buzz of cicadas and birdsong.

“What are you doing here?”

Hearing the quiet murmur, you turned to Bishop, who shifted slightly under your gaze. “Surprised to see me?”

“I went to considerable expense to keep you out of this mess, Ms. l/n.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, remembering Kaiba’s words about the high cost of the drugs in your slushy.

“I didn’t want to see a naive little girl get caught up in this game.”

“I’m four years older than Kaiba.” You weren’t angry, you had always looked younger than your age, and you certainly lacked experience in these high stakes games. “But I appreciate your concern.”

“Your boss is using you.” “Hnh.” Kaiba crossed his arms. “I like being useful. Besides,” you slid your hands into your pockets and leaned back against the helicopter, “I make my own choices, Bishop.”

“Suit yourself. But I wash my hands of your fate.”

Before you could reply, the nearby elevator entrance dinged. As the doors slid apart, Mr. O’Malley strolled out before they finished opening. He grinned. “Ah, Mr. Kaiba, I’m so glad you could join us!” The security men parted to allow their employer through. “And you’ve brought a woman with you. I’m impressed. Perhaps even the intolerable Seto Kaiba can attract a pretty face.”

“Don’t waste my time with your ludicrous assumptions, O’Malley.”

“Darling, the girl is obviously a gold digger.” From the elevator emerged a woman with bottle blond hair and flashy jewelry, her makeup and clothes trying desperately to hide her status as a middle aged woman in her forties. She wore a sleek black dress with brown fur accents perfectly matching O’Malley’s tie. 

“Allow me to introduce the missus.” Holding out a hand to his wife, who took it with a regal air, O’Malley presented her as though royalty. “My dear queen Sasha—bright as fireworks in a summer sky, ambitious as Caesar, and lovely as the Ring of Kerry.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Now now, Mr. Kaiba, no need to be rude. I’m sure your own queen has many lovely qualities as well. While her devotion to the white king shows a certain lack of wisdom, I’m sure she possesses other charms.”

He was still using chess metaphors, you noted. 

“Get to the point, O’Malley, we’re here for Mokuba.” 

“Ah yes, your poor little brother. The lad’s been quite adamant you would come for him.”

“Where’s Mokuba?” Kaiba’s tone dropped lower, bristling with hostility. 

“I’m not a cruel man. I shan't keep such devoted brothers apart for long.” Turning gracefully, O’Malley looked back over his shoulder at them. “Please, follow me.”

[meowzilla93]

you know, with all the lore drops im releasing into the wild, how about a bit of a draft, a conversation between Liz and August, about a certain Greyscale Gentleman

(collecting any and all teasing nicknames for this guy like its my reason to live)

L: So, how’s things going with Monsieur Monochrome over there?

Ears perked at the new moniker for the boy-next-door suitor, August turns from the wrap she was making to look at Liz, an eyebrow cocked in question,

A: Monsieur-Oh god, just how many of those do you have up your sleeve?

L: Questions? A few. Nicknames for your fancy suitor? Many. Too many to count.

August rolls her eyes at her older sister with a snort, returning to her job of making a halfway decent lunch for the hot day.

L: You still haven’t answered my question Aug.

A: Things have been good. We talk when he is leaving for the day to do his touristy stuff if I’m out there already, same at night. Texting is a bit irregular, but considering we are a stone throws away from each other, seems we tend to walk into each other a lot and talk that way. We haven’t had a ‘date’ as such yet, but we have spent a few nights together-

L: YOU WHAT?! ALREADY?

Making a show of clearing her ears from being deafened by Liz’s sudden outburst, August turns back to Liz,

A: Jeez Liz, not what I meant. I mean just hanging out. Watching the sunset, walking down the beach front, that sort of thing. And what do you mean ‘already’? It’s been a couple weeks! Couples out there barely give it a day; Already…

August turns back to muse over her food, mumbling over Liz’s comment.

L: Do you plan to?

A: Huh?

L: Oh, don’t act dense, you aren’t good at it. Do you plan to sleep with him?

A: Liz! I-I don’t see how that’s at all relevant!

L: So, you do?

A: That’s neither here nor there! I like him! I like hanging out with him and just being with him. But that doesn’t mean I’m doing it to get into his pants Liz!

L: I just want to make sure you know what you are doing. Things seem to be a bit more intense than usual considering how your relationships usually go.

August takes off her glasses before she rubs her eyes, exasperated at Liz,

A: Yes, I know what I’m doing. And yes, I will admit things are… different this time round.

L: Do you want to talk about it?

A: Would you accept it if I said no?

L: No.

A: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Folding up her wrap, August cuts it in half before picking up one half, taking a bite before pointedly looking at Liz,

A: What exactly would you have me talk about?

L: Clearly your summertime black and white romance flick -shut up its funny. You said things are different, how?

A: Let’s see. Other than the fact that this relationship has a deadline before it even started? I don’t know how to explain it, Liz; Those previous relationships, I thought the butterflies would eventually build up, that those romantic feelings would develop along with the relationship, but that never happened. With him, all it took was spending a day with him and they’ve been there ever since. I’m giddy over the chance to talk to him, can’t get rid of the smile on my face when I’m with him. I want to hold onto him, or just touch him in some sort of way; It’s almost a need rather than a want. He can fluster me, which is a hard task in itself, but he does it flawlessly. I just… I’ve never felt what I feel with him.

L: You both agreed that it’s only a summertime fling right? What happens if these feelings develop further?

A: I’ll cross that bridge once I get to it. Though to be honest, nothing would change. He made it abundantly clear that romantically this all ends at the end of summer. I will have to accept it, considering I agreed to those terms before we started this.

L: So, the first time you are experiencing those giddy lovesick feelings in a relationship, and you are letting it runs its course at the detriment of your own feelings-

A: Liz, I am more than capable of navigating whatever this is, honest. Besides, nothing is stopping us from remaining friends. Sure, it might hurt when we finally end this, but all my previous relationships I’ve been able to have a more platonic relationship with them. What’s stopping us from doing the same this time?

L: I don’t think it’s going to be that simple this time August.

A: I’ll deal, Liz. This… To be quite honest I haven’t felt this happy in a long time. With everything happening, so much changing, I just want to be happy with him. Maybe I’m more invested in this than he is. So be it. But I’m happy. Think you can cut me some slack with this?

Liz takes August in, concerns slightly marring her features before exhaling deeply,

L: Fine, but only for now. But I expect to know exactly when and how your Black Parade Boyfriend starts to make advances on you, need to make sure you have the talk-

August laughs at Liz, chucking a towel at her face over the newest nickname,

A: Liz, he isn’t that bad! And honestly, I’m almost nineteen and already had sex. Think you are a bit late for that talk Big Sis.

Liz woefully puts a hand on her forehead,

L: Alas, my dearest younger sibling is growing so quickly! To already have had intercourse outside of wedlock, what is this world coming to,

August launches another towel at Liz, before the elder sibling chucks one back, starting a war in the kitchen of tea towels flying around and the sound of laughter filling the midday air.

[sanddusted-wisteria]

Unpotable [oneshot]

GN!Builder/Qi; crack

Warnings: None

Also on AO3

Summary: Unpotable Summer Sand Tea: A strange green gooey substance sprawled out on a plate. Everything about it implies its impalatability, but its forbidden nature compels you to try it.

In which Qi somehow manages to mess up tea. Cut him some slack, though, he's only made it…several hundreds of times before…

A/N: Happy update! One of the new mechanics added is that your spouse can cook for you! Which is really sweet. Only issue is that not every spouse can cook all too well (Qi downright admits on multiple occasions that he cannot cook)…and they always have a chance of flubbing the dishes. One of Qi's options is summer sand tea…and yes, he can somehow screw it up. The description for bad food is generic across all the dishes, but it really seems to fit for the tea. I've had this half-finished since I've been beta testing this update, but the update came out sooner than I expected, so here you go! Enjoy!

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

It’s gelatinous.

The builder slowly tips the glass sideways. The green substance stays put, until at about a 60 degree tilt, when it starts to slide out. They quickly right the glass again. The jelly falls back down to the bottom with a quiet flump.

The builder blinks and looks up at Qi with a look of barely-restrained horror.

“I…don’t know how this happened,” Qi says, pursing his lips.

It’s tea. At least, it’s supposed to be tea.

“D…Does all your tea end up looking like this…?” the builder asks meekly.

“N-no, no! It doesn’t. The pitcher is perfectly fine, see?” He holds up the fresh pitcher of tea. It’s all still liquid in there.

“Uh-huh…” The builder goes back to staring at the peculiar stuff in the glass. They shake it around a little, and the mystery goo jiggles with it.

…Does it still taste like tea?

They lift the glass towards their face.

“No.”

Would it feel like jelly in their mouth? Or would it just dissolve instantly?

“Do not.”

Is it chewy? Crunchy on the inside? Sticky? Gummy?

“I implore you.”

Was this like one of Fang’s weird potions that turns them different colors? Or maybe it would turn their bones to jelly…or knock them out…or melt their tongue off…or—

Qi snatches the glass out of their hand with an exasperated look on his face. “H-How about we safely discard this substance and not risk our lives consuming it?”

The builder freezes, tongue halfway out. “Aw, come on! It’s for science!”

“Science does not involve pouring unknown substances down every orifice. And kindly remind me to bar you from entering the Research Center whenever I’m running any experiment with chemicals.”

The builder snorts. “You know, I still have that bottle of sulfuric acid you gave me somewhere…”

“I’m confiscating it immediately.”

“Aw…” The builder slumps, but they can’t hide the mischievous grin on their face.

Qi lets out a sigh. It wasn’t everyday that he was the voice of reason among them. He inspects the glass again with a frown. “Hold on…”

The builder raises an eyebrow.

After a brief turnover of the glass, Qi's eyes widen. “Ah, that makes sense. This is one of my glassware pieces.”

The builder feels the blood drain from their face. “...From your home office…?”

“Yes, I was wondering where this one went. A couple days ago, I used it in an experiment where—”

“We need to pour that tea into every glass we have.”

“Eh? Wh-what—?”

“How much glassware are you missing?”

“Um…I believe I’m still missing one other glass— Ah.”

And so begins a process: line all the cups in the cabinet out on the table, pour a little tea into one of them, and swish it around a bit. If nothing happened, rinse and repeat with the next one.

Glass number 6 turns the green tea a very unappealing brown.

The builder and Qi exchange a look.

“...We need to label these.”

“...Indeed. Lest we want to suffer an unpleasant demise.”

The builder looks down at the pitcher. It’s almost empty now. “Shame about the tea. Wasted a whole lot of it.”

“Unfortunately so. I…can brew another kettle?”

The builder smiles and nods. “We’ll just drink straight from the pitcher this time.”

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

A/N: Btw, sometimes some spouses have a chance of making "gourmet" or better than average dishes with better perks. After trawling through the text file of the game, there appear to be no such options for Qi's dishes (summer sand tea, milk chestnut, tea porridge, tea egg). So poor Qi can always mess up his dishes, but can never make anything better than average.

It's okay tho we still love him

[acopenhagenarmy]

Pairing Taehyung x reader 

abo!au - werewolf!au - magical!au

wordcount: 1099 

warnings: none for this chapter 

summary: he is haunted by the white wolf that occupy his dreams, but the mere thought of seeking out his mate scares him. Because what if you only were a dream? 

Part one 

Comment: What a hiatus huh? I’ve been gone for a while, havent updated, but i needed to find myself and my writing style. This is something I’ve been working for on quiet some time. Both writing and rewriting. I kind of like it. But as always, let me know what you think! Don’t be a silent reader, I really appreciate all the feedback. 

Taglist: 

He could feel the ground beneath his paws, and the cold winter breeze in his dark fur coat as he ran through the forest, underneath the pale light of that month's full moon. The subtle scent of summer rain and sandalwood was what had made him bail his brothers on their midnight run in the forest surrounding their family’s territory. 

He was still a cub. Still not strong enough to pick a fight with rogues or intruders, but his senses were better than most wolves his age and his curiosity was once again stronger than the fear of being killed. 

As he ran towards the clearing where he could hear the two wolves, they were closer to him now. They almost danced through the night as they chased each other onto the frozen lake. They were playing, having fun. He watched them as their crystal white fur made them shine as white as the snow around them or the full moon above them. 

They looked like two angels, two mythical creatures that shouldn’t be disturbed. So, he didn’t. Instead, he watched them from the shadows.

He was woken up abruptly by the sound of his brother pounding on his door. The dream always ended there, that was no surprise. The memory of that night by the lake was both crystal clear and hazy at the same time. He never knew how he’d gotten home, in fact no one did. His parents had sent out a search team that night after his brothers had returned without him. Only to find him in human form, tucked into bed in the early morning hours.

He stretched his arms above his head and scratched his eyes before yawning loudly. There was nothing in this world he hated as much as early morning runs. “YAH! Tae hurry up or I’ll send Jin up with a bucket” his brother Namjoon yelled when he didn’t get a reply from the youngest of the three. Taehyung shivered by the thought of the ice-cold water that had woken him more than once throughout his relatively short life. 

“I’m up! I’m up! No need for that today. Goddess...” he could hear a chuckle from his brother that was already halfway down the stairs. He knew he needed to hurry if he wanted anything to eat before their 50km morning run. He’d of course win no matter what, he always did, but he could use the extra energy since his two elders always tried to beat him.

He walked downstairs, his eyes still adjusting to the bright morning sun as he felt his stomach growl. His mother laughed, a loving and kind sound, as he stepped into the giant kitchen. Him and his closest family all lived in a huge house made by the very trees that had once stood in its place.

Their family had an open door policy, so wolves, both young and old would be coming and going throughout the day both to hang out, but also to get help from their Alpha and Luna.

“Same dream as always?” Seokjin said from the table near the big windows that were overlooking the terrace. 

Taehyung sighed as he answered: “you know it brother, nothing’s changed” 

His mother looked at her youngest with sympathetic eyes, as Seokjin rolled his own at his statement.

“I told you guys you should’ve forced him to see a therapist. White wolves... he might as well have told us all he’d been kidnapped by fairies” their mother quickly turned as she threw a waffle at the broad-shouldered man. He yelled out dramatically, earning attention from both his father and Namjoon as they walked in. 

“You don’t joke about fairies Seokjin, not as long as you live under my roof” his mother said with a stern look in her eyes. 

“You never know if they’re listening in, and none of us need that kind of bad luck. As for you my dear” she said as she walked over to Taehyung, “whatever creature, white wolf or fairy, you saw that night, you’re one lucky man. You were touched by the goddess that night, and that is a blessing” 

She ruffled his dark locks, showing off the patch of white hair that had appeared in the back of his neck after that midnight run, so many years ago. 

“Are the three of you done discussing the creatures of the night? We need to get going if we wanna make time for a good run before we leave” Namjoon asked from the place he had leaned against the dark marble countertop. 

Seokjin smiled smugly, as the sun broke the tree line surrounding the house, making him look almost as golden as his eyes. He quickly rose from his seat pushing Namjoon on the way out the door. He quickly followed him, determined to get a head start. 

Taehyung on the other hand didn’t rush, he took a bite of the waffle his mother had made for him and gave her a peck on the cheek before he whispered a quiet thank you. He then slowly strutted out the kitchen and down the hall out the front door, with such confidence that made both of his parents’ smile. 

The two of them were proud of their boys. They had raised them right. They were respectful to their elders and kind to those younger than them. Every day the three of them made their hearts burst with both pride and love. Their mother sighed before she whispered, a subtle question that only her husband was supposed to hear. 

“Do you think he’ll ever recover from that night Ji-hoon? Do you think the dreams of that night will ever stop haunting him?” 

Ji-hoon pulled his mate close to his chest as he nuzzled his head in the crook of her neck, the place he had marked her 20 years earlier. He breathed in her scent of vanilla and mango, the only thing in this world that could make both him and his wolf calm. 

“I have no idea Jee, I just hope that what ever happened to him that night, will one day bring him joy” 

They looked out the grand windows watching their youngest son turn into his wolf form in a millisecond, before he sprinted toward the edge of where the forest began. He was so fast and so determined to once again beat his brothers, that he looked more like a shadow than a wolf. The two parents stood in the window and looked at their youngest disappear, a little sting of worry in both of their hearts.

[new-berry]

Anthony Gordon. Part of his campaign to be selected for England he authorised this - look I follow entertainment, I know when someone has allowed People to leak the story

This is a cut and paste so no pics:).

Anthony Gordon has five days off — not that it looks that way.

The air-conditioning cannot stem the sweat and the whirring of the treadmill does not drown out the thoughts turning in his head.

It is June 2023 and the Newcastle winger is on a short holiday in Dubai. Hours earlier, he scored his first goal for the club against Chelsea, sweeping home on the season’s final day in a 1-1 draw. The next week, he is due to link up with England’s under-21 team at the European Championship in Georgia. Five days — his first break since January’s £45million ($57.3m) transfer from Everton — seems scant respite before a 50-game season.

“It’s tough to get out of bed to do roadwork when you’ve been sleeping in silk pyjamas,” the legendary middleweight Marvin Hagler once said. But Gordon, a boxing devotee, does not yet feel that luxury has been earned.

Friends jog sedately on the neighbouring machines, describing a gym buddy who is “running with a point to prove”. On other mornings, he rises early to put on his football boots and do doggie sprints — a punishing series of shuttle runs — on a patch of grass outside.

Since he was a child in Everton’s academy, Gordon has written down short-term, medium-term, and long-term goals. During this particular cardio session, he runs through his aims as he elongates his strides. Six months into his Newcastle career, it is time to accelerate.

“I’m going to help England win the Euros.”

“I want the No 10 or No 11 shirt at Newcastle.”

“I’m going to score this number of goals.”

“I want a senior England call-up.”

Halfway through the season, the 22-year-old is on track to hit almost all those targets. Despite the club’s difficult winter, Gordon has arguably been Newcastle’s player of the season so far — it took until December before he recorded two consecutive Premier League games without either a goal or an assist. In the FA Cup third round, he delivered the sort of harrying derby performance which begins to stitch names in the fabric of a club. At the club’s Darsley Park training ground, coaches describe a relentlessness to his self-improvement, a player who has to be dragged off the pitch in case of overexertion.

“He’s obsessed with being the best; it physically hurts him if he hasn’t been the best in training,” says a member of his tight-knit inner circle, speaking anonymously to protect their relationship. “He has that personality. Everything’s a game. Everything he has to win.”

That even extended to table tennis matches on his summer not-quite-holiday, chewing out friends who dared to challenge him. Like his adoptive city, he is direct, uncompromising and industrious.

Reader, boxer, aspiring Grandmaster, these are the edges behind this season’s explosion — and the secrets to the psychology which keeps him on the treadmill.

“The biggest thing for me was that he was always searching to go to the next level early,” says David Unsworth, Everton’s former academy head and interim manager. “At under-16s, he was desperate to get into the under-18s. As soon as he was in the under-18s, he was trying desperately to come with me (in the under-23s). As soon as he came with me, he was desperate to get into first-team training.

“That desire to get to the next level is something you can’t really instil in people.”

Gordon has always known where he wants to go. As a young teenager, he spoke in absolutes, with certainty. “When I play for Real Madrid,” was one example of an early dream.

Self-belief is not always easy to come by, especially when you have to fight for recognition. At 11 years old, Gordon was rejected by the academy of his boyhood club, Liverpool. He was not immediately snapped up by Everton either — their development centre initially released him before they were urged to reconsider by respected Merseyside scout Ian Duke.

Goodison Park is just a five-minute stroll from his mother’s house in Kirkdale and ahead of one pre-season game, Gordon was spotted walking to the ground with his boots under one arm. But there were no guarantees he would even make it this far.

Though his attacking talent was always recognised by Everton, there were long-standing doubts over his slender physique and work rate. While several others in his cohort were offered a professional contract by the club, he was initially just offered a lesser scholarship.

On the pitch, he was a match-winner,” says Unsworth. “The biggest problem we had with him was his stamina. So he played a lot of left midfield, on the left of a three, but he would just die on 60 minutes. He would look like he was being lazy and couldn’t get back, but it wasn’t that, he had just emptied his tank because he put so much into the first hour.”

In the summer of 2017, with his charge just 16, Unsworth took matters into his own hands at a pre-season boot camp in Spain. The most common word used to describe these few days was “beasting”. Misplaced passes and minor positional errors brought the burn of push-ups.

“He could be so harsh,” Gordon recalled in 2020. “It felt like an army camp. It was my first involvement with the under-23s and physically and mentally, I was drained. I matured into a man that week. We always had a good relationship off the pitch and (Unsworth) always told me how good I was, although you forget about that when you lose the ball in 80-degree heat and he’s making you do push-ups.”

The results began to follow. Still mostly playing for the under-18s that season, Gordon scored 14 goals in 15 appearances, along with four assists. A trademark attacking move still seen at Newcastle — drifting infield before curling a shot towards the far post on his right foot — was on full display.

He also made his first appearance for the first team — a brief substitute appearance against Apollon Limassol in a Europa League dead rubber. On that night, his callowness was evident— his shorts virtually down to his knees, a pair of Next boxer shorts on full display.

Though there were no issues with Gordon’s display, it would be almost two years before his next first-team appearance. It is hard to break through at Everton. Despite traditionally having one of the Premier League’s stronger academies, the club’s long trophyless run affects opportunities — they are less likely to blood youngsters in the cup, while managerial turnover means coaches are less likely to consider the potential long-term benefits.

In 2018-19, Gordon made the step up to the under-23s, helping Everton win the Premier League 2, and rival clubs were beginning to take notice. Strikingly, the calibre of sides after him included German giants Bayern Munich and Borussia Dortmund, whose interest was firm and sustained.

Gordon decided to stay — a combination of his “homebird” nature and assurances by then manager Marco Silva that he would soon be part of the first-team setup. At Everton’s Finch Farm training ground, Unsworth took the lead in poring over the physical data of the club’s starting attackers with Gordon — the likes of Richarlison and Dominic Calvert-Lewin — to provide a model for the teenager’s burgeoning work rate. Director of football Marcel Brands, who arrived in June 2018 having previously overseen PSV’s highly-rated academy, was also a major fan.

The chances, however, did not come. By the time lockdown hit in early 2020, Carlo Ancelotti had taken over from an embattled Silva, but his man-management style typically favoured established professionals. Gordon took matters into his own hands.

Moving out of the family home during lockdown, Gordon shut himself away in a house previously rented by Mohamed Salah with former Liverpool prospect Bobby Duncan and another friend, Callum Webb, who worked as a personal trainer.

For three months, the group did nothing but work — weights, circuits, runs around the local golf course. They hired a private chef to cook meals. Each night, ahead of the next day’s triple session, Gordon brought his notebook so he could research Webb’s planned exercises. For a player not yet established at first-team level, his initiative was striking.

Impressed and with his fitness levels among the best in the squad, Ancelotti handed him his first Premier League start in the first game of Project Restart. This was no easing in — but a Merseyside derby against title-chasing Liverpool. Just over a week after the 0-0 draw, Gordon delivered his first Premier League assist against Leicester.

Yet, that summer, Gordon again found his pathway blocked — this time by a global superstar. When Colombia international James Rodriguez arrived at Goodison Park, the teenager was uncowed. “I’m better than him,” was his attitude, revealing he knocked on Ancelotti’s door, a manager at that time with three Champions League trophies, to ask for more minutes.

Ancelotti admired Gordon’s chutzpah, but with Everton doing well in the league midway through 2020-21, the manager sanctioned a January loan. The reality was closer to a cattle market.

Around 25 clubs expressed their interest, including half the clubs in the Championship. From abroad, Hamburg and Wolfsburg were also serious contenders. Amid the battle was Bournemouth head coach Eddie Howe, keen to take him to the south coast, though the club’s Premier League status meant Gordon would not be assured game time.

On deadline day, the winger elected to join nearby Preston having given manager Alex Neil his word earlier in the window. In hindsight, the decision appeared a mistake. Neil was sacked soon after Gordon’s arrival and despite the teenager winning man of the match in an early fixture televised on Sky Sports, new boss Frankie McAvoy switched to playing five at the back. Gordon ended up appearing in just 11 Championship matches and the Champions League felt a world away.

“There is never a bad loan for a young player in terms of your long-term career,” says Unsworth. “Anthony went there, he was training with the first team, he didn’t play a great deal, and that probably fuelled his desire even more.” He was right on that.

“The Championship is a whole different world to the Premier League,” Gordon said afterwards. “I was getting used to that and thinking, ‘This is not where I want to be’. That’s where you see a lot of young players either push on or fizzle out. I wasn’t going to be the one to fizzle out.”

Back in Liverpool, it is fight night. If Gordon returned to Everton in search of fireworks, then this was a place to find it. Liverpool is a city with a proud boxing history, producing world champions such as John Conteh, Tony Bellew and brothers Liam and Callum Smith, who both grew up in the same Kirkdale neighbourhood as Gordon.

This evening, it is Peter McGrail in the ring, the super-bantamweight and former Olympian boxing to protect his undefeated record. He wins handily, comfortably inside the distance, and trainer Paul Stevenson begins the debrief, wanting to set his fighter free into the night. Afterwards, in walks a teenager.

“Peter is friends with Anthony, but I hadn’t met him before,” says Stevenson. “He just came backstage and asked if he could do some sessions with me. He said he’d done it as a kid, was very enthusiastic, and wanted to improve cross-discipline. So he came in and was good. Boxing is a very technical sport. If you follow advice, you get better quickly.”

When Gordon signed for Newcastle, Kieran Trippier joked that he better be wearing his boxing gloves after a testy duel at St James’ Park earlier that season. In truth, the new arrival had more than a puncher’s chance. Stevenson was impressed with what his new charge showed.

“You’re always careful with new boxers not to overload, but I found he could take a lot on for a novice,” he says, revealing no other footballer had ever come to him for similar training. “He already had some skills which were transferable — agility, athleticism, physical intelligence — but I think the boxing helped his football.

“It’s a very explosive sport, the amount of brain power which goes into it, if you’re doing it properly, there’s no sport like it. The speed of thought and technique — you don’t just think of your own moves, you think of your opponent’s next moves — and you’re doing it quickly and you’re doing it with pain. Then add the amount of determination and resilience you have to have and you can see why he was attracted to it as an athlete and as a performer.”

Gordon credits the sport with helping his confidence and self-esteem as he adapted to senior football, but also more tangible footballing effects.

“A family member actually said to me after I started boxing that my whole football game changed and I didn’t really notice it until he said it,” Gordon told TNT Sports in 2021. “I was like, ‘You’re right’. I like tackles now and I like contact.”

After signing for Newcastle, Gordon asked Stevenson if he could recommend any local trainers to continue boxing and was given the number of a gym in Peterlee, though he has not continued the sport since moving to the north east. But that was still a first-team breakthrough, two years, and £45million away.

Back in the summer of 2021, after Ancelotti’s sudden departure to Real Madrid, strong interest came in again, with Hamburg close to taking him on loan. But after a strong pre-season, new manager Rafa Benitez refused to sanction any departure. For the first time, Gordon was an established first-team player.

What happens when you summit the mountain but cannot see the view?

Everton started to struggle as Gordon began to flourish, slipping from the top half of the Premier League to the relegation zone. Though he only managed four Premier League goals in 2021-22, the eye test showed a player bearing much of the creative burden, with his interventions also including a crucial winner against Manchester United as Everton scrapped for survival.

Shuffled between left wing, right wing, No 10, and even makeshift striker, Gordon was picking up bruises but also bouquets. By this time already a regular of Lee Carsley’s England Under-21 squad, his breakthrough season brought further attention from clubs aware of Everton’s parlous finances.

Chelsea came in with multiple bids that summer, with Thomas Tuchel wanting to transform him into a wing-back. Everton had engaged in negotiations, but it is understood that Richarlison’s sale to Tottenham Hotspur significantly diminished their desire to sell — late chairman Bill Kenwright did not want two stars to leave in a single window.

Nevertheless, things moved quickly by January, with Everton continuing to struggle both on and off the pitch. Newcastle agreed a £45million deal, to be paid in a lump sum to help Everton’s FFP, and amid a situation at Goodison Park which was growing more toxic, Gordon was suddenly no longer a boy clad in royal blue.

The thorny circumstances of Gordon’s exit are still painful for both the club’s fans and the player himself. Everton put out statements saying Gordon had not reported for training while he was negotiating a transfer in London at the request of owner Farhad Moshiri and Gordon admitted his hurt at the club’s curt 59-word departure statement.

Twelve months on, it is evident that the move suited all parties — Everton received a large sum for an academy product and have re-emerged stronger, Gordon had a more stable environment, and Newcastle had a long-term target.

For a little while, however, it looked as if Tottenham were Newcastle’s main rivals. Director of football Fabio Paratici, noticing Gordon’s defiance in a 5-0 loss at Spurs in March, later described the winger in transfer discussions as his “favourite player in the Premier League”. Antonio Conte was also a fan, with multiple discussions taking place between both clubs and Gordon’s representatives.

Ultimately, however, the choice came down to the winger. Gordon was won over by Newcastle’s trajectory — his admiration for Howe, the style being played, and the club’s rapid improvements — and was earmarked by recruitment staff as a priority target.

Some fans were sceptical — seeing a player whose goals and assists record did not match up to their Champions League pursuit and who had been rubbed up the wrong way by his on-pitch scrappiness. But Gordon was betting on himself. He always had.

In many ways, Gordon’s first months at Newcastle were reminiscent of his frustrations at the start of his Everton career. Despite his physical training, Howe’s system demanded a higher work rate still, an evolution of the off-ball skills which initially attracted Newcastle. The tactics also bore a weight — moving to a possession-based side for the first time in his career. The initial minutes were not what he anticipated.

“I would say last year it was difficult because I had to come in and sort of swallow my ego a lot,” he told the Newcastle programme earlier this season. “People talk about ego as a bad thing, but it’s not. None of us get to this level without having an ego.

“But I think I came in and expected a lot of myself and the way the team was, with the momentum they had, it was always going to be difficult. But I was a bit naive to that, so it was accepting that and moving on quickly and just accepting that it wasn’t going to be easy.”

These exasperations came to a head against Brentford in April, when Gordon, having delivered an impressive cameo off the bench, was substituted himself with moments remaining. He cast off Howe’s attempted greeting and threw himself into his seat, seething. Howe ground his teeth at the impudence. Sources from both the player and club side insist the incident was forgotten about within 24 hours, but its symbolism remained — the impatience of unfulfilled expectation.

It is undeniable, despite his goal on the final day of the season, that it was a frustrated Gordon sprinting on the hotel treadmill, running towards a future which he cannot bear to wait for. This is the natural by-product of a psychology which the player himself describes as fixated, with his obsessive, driven personality leading to an intensity which can be misperceived from afar.

As well as the Brentford incident, take the ire among Newcastle fans after his win-at-all-costs display at St James’ Park for Everton last season, or the anger from Everton supporters when he was open to furthering his career in the north east.

“I get really obsessed with things,” he told Newcastle’s website in September. “Whatever is on my mind for those couple of weeks, I’ll buy all the gear, research every detail of it — it’s just my personality.

“I think that’s a good thing because I don’t just settle for being average at something — I want to be the best at everything I do. It’s a good mindset to have, but I think it stresses the people around me out.”

That manifests itself in physical preparation — holiday doggie sprints before breakfast — but also his downtime. While on international duty at the Euros, Gordon replaced black and white stripes with black and white checks, challenging the entire squad to games of chess.

Several footballers play — AC Milan forward Christian Pulisic a notable example — with the blitz and rapid formats pushing players to make quick decisions. That chess is boxing without the violence also appealed. The only opponent he could not vanquish was team doctor Matt Perry — who was on a “different level” to anyone else in the squad.

In Georgia, staff members were impressed with the extent to which Gordon had matured since his early days in the international setup. Reflecting his importance to the squad, Lee Carsley trusted him with a crucial tactical brief — a false nine role which did not come naturally. The tournament, however, was a blinding success — securing two goals and an assist, the tip of England’s spear as they won the tournament.

Most encouraging of all was the development of two areas of his game — link-up play and finishing — which playing through the middle forced him to develop. UEFA awarded him player of the tournament, joining a list of luminaries such as Petr Cech, Fabio Cannavaro, Luis Figo, Andrea Pirlo. Goal one — complete.

“I’ve always said he can play left, he can play right, he can link, he can play 10,” says Unsworth. “He can actually play in the midfield three. But when he develops physically, upper-body wise, when he becomes a real mature man, I think he’ll actually end up as a striker if I’m being honest with you because he’s got everything and he’s good in the air as well.”

He pauses, before adding: “You know, the thing with Anthony, he’s a very intelligent footballer both on and off the pitch. I found that quite endearing to be honest. He would always ask the question ‘Why?’.”

It is a question Gordon has never stopped asking. He is a voracious reader, constantly making his way through sporting biographies, psychology manuals and leadership theory, with a half-finished text always found on some surface at his home.

Kobe Bryant’s book, The Mamba Mentality, is a particular favourite, outlining not just his dedication, but also his resilience — the NBA’s all-time leader in missed shots, but also fourth on the all-time scoring list. In the difficult periods of the past 18 months, one suspects it helped.

Another of Gordon’s hobbies is snooker — the winger playing a range of cue sports from a young age — with seven-time world champion Ronnie O’Sullivan another hero, despite his clear differences from Bryant.

The Chimp Paradox, written by O’Sullivan’s sports psychiatrist Steve Peters, is another well-thumbed book, which has helped him separate the emotional side of his brain (the chimp) from the analytical part (the human). Pivotal, Gordon found, was how to control and train the chimp — making instincts your best friend rather than worst enemy is pivotal to a footballer forced to make both quick decisions and exist in the public sphere.

It is a window into his process. After completing each book, Gordon will steal nuggets of information he feels can help him — a magpie mentality as well as a mamba.

“I found it to be very easy to try and get Anthony to focus because he was desperate,” says Unsworth. “And when you are desperate to do something, certainly when you back that up with the individual talent, 99 times out of 100, you will succeed.”

In the past year, the 22-year-old has left his boyhood club, acclimatised to another, brought himself to the edge of the England squad and, in recent months, become a father.

Life, like Gordon himself, is relentless. But this is a psychology that knows little else. There is nothing to do but get back on the treadmill and start sprinting. It is not yet time for the silk pyjamas.

[triscribeaucollection]

Founder Foundlings

(Still mucking around with this one, but y’all can sample the first two pages):

It’s been ten minutes, and the four strange children are still arguing with each other.

Or. Well. The two boys seem to be doing the most arguing, while one of the girls jumps back and forth on who she’s siding with, and the other girl keeps trying unsuccessfully to get them all to knock it off.

Unsuccessful, that is, until she spots Harry watching them.

He’s been wandering the back streets of Little Whinging for almost an hour, vaguely aware of what direction Privet Drive lies in but not quite willing to commit to going back yet. A summer afternoon spent running and hiding from Dudley and his gang turned into a rather pleasant early evening stroll after they gave up - there’ll be all sorts of trouble for it later, for being gone so long, but...

Harry gets in trouble over all sorts of things that aren’t his fault. It feels oddly nice to actually do something for once to warrant the shouting and extra chores and extended time in his cupboard.

So. Wandering around Little Whinging as the sunlight gradually fades, which led to his stumbling across four odd children arguing with each other. He has absolutely no idea what’s got them all so riled up, since the group is speaking mostly in furious whispers, just a little too far away for him to make out the words. Still entertaining to watch, though. Until the chubbier of the two girls notices him peering around the corner.

Immediately, she flings out an arm to smack the taller and louder of the two boys, and hisses something sharp that makes all three of the others shut up in a split second. Then, they follow her gaze. Harry instinctively hunches his shoulders, but for whatever reason he can’t quite bring himself to turn tail and duck away.

After a moment’s pause, the boy who got smacked lifts his own hand to wave. Surprised, Harry waves back. That’s apparently enough for the chubby girl to make a decision, because she starts walking towards him, the others trailing after.

“Hello there,” the girl says, smiling widely. “Sorry to be a bother, but- could you tell us where we are?”

“Surrey,” one of the boys mutters, with a sour expression. “I told you we’re in bloody Surrey, which is completely the wrong area-”

The smiling girl doesn’t look, but the kick she aims at him hits the boy right in the shin, cutting him off with a yelp. “Hush up, Sal.”

“Um. Well, he’s right,” Harry answers, a little more wary than he might have been a minute ago. “This is Surrey. Little Whinging, specifically.”

The other girl sighs, in a halfway sort of manner that says she wants to be dramatic but is oh so nobly restraining herself. “If something’s gone this wrong, it has to be for a good reason.”

“But of course. Fur-for-brains here messed up his part of the ritual, again.”

“You can’t blame me like it’s always my fault,” the taller boy protests. “And even that one time I missed my cue-”

“Those three times-”

“-we’ve never woken up so far away from the Potter House before!”

Harry un-hunches. “Potter house?”

Four sets of eyes instantly latch back onto him. “Yes!” The chubby girl sounds relieved. “Do you know it?”

“Er- well, no. It’s just- my name. Potter. I’m Harry Potter.” He manages not to shrink back into himself, resorting instead to scuffing one foot in a too-large trainer against the pavement.

Rather than disappointed, though, the four children all look startled. “...Harry Potter,” the chubby girl says carefully. “Are you one of Acheras Potter’s descendants, then?”

“I- don’t know?”

They all glance round at each other, concerned and contemplative by turns. “I don’t suppose,” the smaller of the boys starts to ask, “That your parents - or at least your father - went to a school called Hogwarts?”

“I don’t know,” Harry repeated, eyes dropping to look at his too-large trainers. “My parents died when I was a baby.”

The taller boy makes a noise he can’t entirely decipher. “Adopted, then?”

“No. I live with my aunt and her family. She and my mum were sisters.”

“...right, then. Has she ever mentioned Hogwarts? Or anything at all about magic?” Harry twitches at that, lifting his head again to look at the chubby girl. She clearly sees the confusion on his face, and tries to hide a grimace.

The other girl sees it too, and huffs. “Well. Clearly, something did go wrong, but I begin to think it was not on our end of things.”

“Ha,” the taller boy says flatly.

“Oh do be quiet, Godric,” his smaller friend sniffs, pushing past to get directly in front of Harry. For whatever reason, he starts to reach inside one long draping sleeve, only to stop with a grimace and just hold out his empty hand instead. “Don’t be alarmed, Mister Potter, this won’t hurt at all.”

He doesn’t give Harry any time to react, which is probably good, because those words do alarm him more than anything else. A bright white light flashes, blotting out his vision, followed by a bunch of people calling words he can’t hear, on account of the sudden roaring in his ears. Which is a shame, because- because he thinks he needs to hear those words, to know what they’re saying, what they’re trying to tell him, and everything else just fades into white while he strains his ears, trying, trying- 

Harry needs to blink quite a bit before the spots start to fade from his eyes, and the voices and roaring die away about the same time he can see straight again.

The four children look grim.

Floating above the smaller boy’s hand, lines and figures flicker, almost like a television set, just- in midair. No electrical lines or screens or anything else. From the backside, Harry can’t tell what all they say or depict, but- it can hardly be anything good, from the sharp frowns and pinched expressions. When it ends and finally fades away, he asks, in a small voice, “Was that- magic?”

Four faces lift to look at him, and an odd feeling sweeps over Harry.

None of them are really all that bigger than him, or older, but for an instant it seems like they are. The taller of the boys looms, broad-shouldered and muscular, red-gold hair hanging down to his shoulders in waves, eyes bright and bold like the jewels decorating the sword at his waist. The other one stands shorter, more slender, his dark hair pulled back in a long tail, not hiding either his intense, glinting gaze or the locket hanging from his neck. One of the girls tips her chin up, elegant and poised, wild curls only partially restrained by the tiara on her head, gleaming with the same power as her sharp eyes. The chubbier one remains the shortest and widest of them, thick hair neatly braided, gaze and smile equally warm, a simply decorated gold cup resting in her hands. All four of them wear draping garments with all sorts of colorful stitching, like something out of a book about medieval kings and queens, red and green and blue and yellow, practically glowing in the light of the setting sun.

Then Harry blinks, and they go back to being four children, his size and age, each wearing a plain black robe.

“Yes, Mister Potter,” the shorter boy says. “That was magic. We are magic. And so are you.”

[lifesfeelings]

The Darty and I Love You

Last week, one of Chase’s roommates that I’ve become pretty close with was throwing a day party on a Sunday afternoon. I had work until like 3 and the party was at 1, but I did everything I could to get out and make it on time. This being said, Chase was also stuck at work with me until 3 but he didn’t get ahead so he was actually going to be at work until three, meaning that I was going to be essentially by myself at this darty. I walked over to their house though and it immediately got started. One of the roommates fed me three shots back to back and then I started drinking a tallboy. I went outside and found a random pong partner and lost miserably. Then this guy invited me to play cornhole with him and we won. Small details really. Anyway, after I finished those two games, I went inside and found a group of like four girls standing around a counter. I said shot time and then a group of like 7-8 girls gathered. One of them is this girl in my department who thinks I’m super pure and just like an academic and so she was both having a blast but was also horrified watching me at this point lol! Took the shot and right around then was when Chase walked in. My toxic trait is that, when I’m drunk, I can not be tied down. Whether I’m at a bar or at a party, I have places to be. My friends will try to hang out or talk to me, but I’m a group bouncer or I have games to play. So Chase tried to tie me down and I kept running from him to do other things. At one point, he invited me outside and I went but he got caught talking to somebody as we walked by and I just walked past him and went outside. One of the roommate’s girlfriends, Alexa, was sitting outside and was probably as toasted, if not more toasted, than me. So I went and sat on the ground next to her and we started really talking. Eventually, she asked about my guy situation and I told her I’ve been stuck on the same guy for almost two years. We kept on it, and eventually I ended up telling her that I was into Chase, which is kind of horrendous but we were both blitzed and just is what it is lol! Anyway, this whole story was basically only for two things: I wanted a record of this event, especially with my memory being blurry that day 😂 and to add this one detail to my last post. So, I left a bit after I talked with Alexa. I gathered my stuff and started telling people bye. As I made my rounds, I found Chase and waved to him and he followed me toward the front door. We got there and he dabbed me up (which, God I hate straight men for that lol) but as I turned he said, “We’ll see you, David! I love you.” And I was far too drunk to panic or really even acknowledge, especially since I was already halfway out there door. I was just like, “Yeah, we’ll see you!” And then ran out. But are you FUCKING kidding me!? I realize that he’s my safe person and the person that I feel sees me, and when I have that realization is when he decides to tell me that he loves me!? And then after the Darty is when he started inviting me to the dispensary and the dinner and all that shit. I have a feeling these last like two-three months that I’m in town are going to be quite the ride. Especially with this being the first summer break that he’s spending in town.

05.06.23

[jojoblessed365]

Teach Me Tonight - Chapter 10 - jojoblessed365 - Gilmore Girls (TV 2000) [Archive of Our Own]

The last week of school is filled with determining the school council for next year as well as the cool off period for seniors who would be graduating that end of May. But Jess is more than happy since it meant that he survived an entire school year as a teacher and he had no hiccups related to the same. What was the icing on the cake, was the respect he had gained with both his fellow co-workers and students, as well as the sense of happiness he felt as both his new career change and family change, feeling a stronger bond with DJ than he has ever felt.

The only thing that was, or rather, felt incomplete, was his romantic trajectory. Even though, they were back to being friends, Jess felt himself pining profusely for Rory. Every conversation they had or every look they shared at each other, left Jess with the ashes of what- could’ve, would’ve, should’ve been. He should have been in a relationship with Rory, not in some vacuum of something which wasn’t exactly friendship or complete alienation. He was, as the French would call it, in exquisé- the pain of still caring for someone that you knew you can never have.

So, once school’s out for the day, Jess’s only home for as long as it takes to change into his running gear before he’s back out the door, the cooling spring, almost summer afternoon perfect for getting in a quick 5-mile run.

Or it would have been if his agent hadn’t called halfway through his run. Jess answers, because he has to – he can ignore text messages while he’s at work, but once it’s gotten to the point of either his agent or his editor calling him, there’s no ignoring his phone anymore. So, Jess slips his phone from his pocket, his ringtone cutting into the music that’s playing through his headphones, and slides across the screen to answer. “Hi, Birdie,” Jess says, slowing his pace down to a walk.

Birdie Lenora Cassopolis, one of the fiercest women Jess’s ever met, lets out a noise that almost sounds like she’s concerned about him. “Why are you breathing so hard?”

Jess rolls his eyes. “I’m in the middle of a run.”

“Hmm, well, sorry about that,” Birdie says, sounding the complete opposite of sorry. “Did Amir manage to get a hold of you?”

“Um, no?” Jess says. “Sorry, I got his text, but I was in the middle of teaching.”

Birdie lets out a sound of annoyance. “Sweetie, you do know you can still earn a living with these Bishop books, right?”

Jess sighs, given that he’s been touted as the next Dashiell Hammett meets Raymond Chandler hybrid with the Dodger Bishop series in the recent edition of the New York Times, maybe it isn’t so surprising – and he’s shaking his head even though he knows Birdie can’t see him. “I’ve told you, I’m not giving up teaching. I made the discovery that I love it too much.”

“Hmm, I know. Can’t blame me for trying, though.”

It’s an old argument, familiar and well-trodden with any of Jess’s lifestyle choices, and Jess lets it fade away. “So, why are you calling? What’s so urgent that both you and Amir are trying to get a hold of me?”

ENJOY!!!

Here's the fashion moodboard in order to visualize Jess, Rory and DJ's outfits and primary inspiration-

[rickgrimeswifey]

Hi, I'm a recent fan of your writing and I absolutely love it, you're so talented. I would like to do a resquet, because I love your work.

So, what do you think of a story where the reader is Rick's daughter (about 19/20) and Daryl has been in love with her since Atlanta, but has always avoided her because of the age difference and the fact that she is Rick's daughter. One day he ends up having to go with her on a run (Alexandria Era) and a strong storm ends up forcing them to take shelter in an old cabin. There they find a bottle of Whiskey and the reader admits to having feelings for Daryl and goes into him, he hesitates to have sex with her, but he ends up giving in. Age gap, him calling her baby girl, a little bit of choking, overstimulation, maybe a daddy kink, you know... That sort of thing.

Thank you in advance, even if I don't accept the request <3

Ps: Sorry for the bad english, my native language is not english.

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A/n: Sorry that I wrote this after such a long time. I’m going to be trying to write all the requests now over the summer. My requests will still be open, of course. By the way please send more grimes!reader requests because I love doing them so much. HAVEN’T PROOFREAD!

Category: Smut mostly

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Grimes!reader

Season: 5

Warnings: Age-gap, choking, face fucking, rough smut, swearing, unprotected sex, oral sex (male&female!receiving), overstimulation, use of the word daddy & babygirl, hitting it raw

Word count: 3.6k

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Alexandria was peaceful, too peaceful. But it didn’t bring any peace or comfort to Y/n. Or any other person in their group besides Carl and Judith. The broad shouldered archer looked stressed from where Y/n was watching him with hearts in her eyes. The things she thought about doing to him to help him relax. Thinking about loosening his belt while on her knees in front of him, pulling out in throbbing length, licking her lips, ready to take it all-  

“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” Carl was standing in front of his older sister snapping his fingers, trying to get her attention.

“What?” She was annoyed at him for ruining her daydream.

“Dad said you have to go on a run with Daryl.” He informed.

“Why can’t dad or someone else do it?” Y/n groaned, not wanting to be stuck with Daryl.

It’s like torture for her. He turns her on without even knowing it, a single look and that’s it. When this whole thing started Y/n was just 17, almost 18. On her 18th birthday back at the small camp in Atlanta was when she had her first conversation with Daryl. Since then over the years Y/n’s crush on him had only grown stronger and stronger.

“Because, he wanted to make sure things around here doesn’t go wrong.” He said. “He isn’t sure if he can trust these people yet.” Carl whispered.

“Fine. I’ll go.” Y/n stood up from the stairs she was sitting on.

“Daryl’s waiting for you at the gate,” Carl pointed Daryl's way.

“I know where he is...” Y/n mumbled to herself.

Y/n walked up to the gate where Daryl was standing by a car with his arms crossed. His muscles flex when he reaches up to scratch his scalp. Y/n cleared her throat and rinsed her mind from all the thoughts about Daryl's arms before asking.

“Got everything we need?”

“Uh, yeah...” Daryl said awkwardly.

“Great, let’s go.” Y/n replied shortly while walking around the car to then get into the passenger seat.

Daryl got into the driver's seat and started the car. The engine roared louder than usual since none of the two said a word. Tara opened the gate for them and Daryl drove out then started driving down the road, towards the location Rick wanted them to go take a look at. Halfway of the drive had passed and still none of them had said a word. No music was playing and there wasn’t any traffic noise. Just pure silence that Y/n was about to break.

“Do you think it will last?”

With that she captured Daryl's attention as he glanced over at her for a second.

“What?” He asked.

“With the Alexandrians, I mean do you think they’re nice people? Or that they are just pretending and are going to try and fucking kill us all?” Y/n asked, leaving Daryl a little surprised at her vulgar choice of words.

“Dunno...hope not.”

“I don’t think they’re pretending because no one there can cause any harm.” Y/n said.

“Why’s that?”

“No one there except Aaron has never killed a walker or even been near one. If a herd comes and knocks the walls down, how the hell would all of these people survive? They don’t even know how to use guns or knives.” Y/n explained.

“Yer right, I dunno what they want from us...” Daryl confessed. “We’re here.”

Y/n looked up, confusion washing over her.

“The woods?” Everything in front of her was just trees, Daryl had parked somewhere on a small muddy path that just fit for the car. “What are we going to find here?”

“Yer dad and I came across a bunker when we were ‘ere last time, it was filled with different supplies but we didn’t have any bags.”

“Alright then,” Y/n sighed softly and hopped out of the car.

Daryl started walking into the forest with Y/n right behind him. At one point it rained a little but they didn’t think much of it since it was just a little, but it was a little weird when it was this hot. They kept walking trying to find the bunker, marking up where they’d already been. All of a sudden the extremely loud bang of thunder was heard making the two of them jump. A massive amount of rain started pouring down pushing past the trees in the woods. Daryl looked up to the sky through the trees.

“Fuckin’ shit,” he cursed to himself, knowing what a sky looks like when the weather is not going to be very good.

“What is it?” Y/n asked clueless, making Daryl turn to her.

“This ain’t gon’ pass soon, we better search for somewhere to stay...” Daryl explained to her. “Come on...!” He waved at Y/n to follow him when he started jogging further into the woods.

The two had been jogging around for a couple of minutes while the weather was getting worse. It had started to become extremely windy, hail that hurt had started to put down and the thunder had continued.

“Over there!” Daryl pointed and yelled out so that you’d hear him over the wind that was currently attacking the pair’s eardrums. “Come on!” He sped up faster to reach the wooden cabinet he’d found.

The two of them got inside, both of their faces red and cold. The sound of hail and strong wind banged loudly against every corner of the cabin's walls. Y/n wasn’t wearing a jacket, thinking it wouldn’t rain. So right now she was shaking from the cold wind and rain. Her hair was messed up, tangled, wet and frizzy. She wiped her face to get rid of all the water, breathing heavier than usual from running. Daryl was currently checking the place for walkers, seeing if this cabin was safe.

He walked back to where Y/n was standing at the door. Her wet baggy t-shirt hanging down showing off her cleavage, Daryl felt himself getting hard at the sight. He quickly shrugged the thoughts in his head off, he couldn’t do that to Rick. That would be a disgusting thing to do to his best friend. It’s his first born child.

“Yer freezin’” Daryl mumbled before he rushed to her side.

He put his jacket around her, then guided the two of them to sit down on some couch that wasn't looking too scabby. Y/n warmed up for a couple minutes while looking around the cabin.

“Aren’t you cold?” She asked Daryl.

“Nah, ‘M good.” He answered her question.

“It’s only going to get colder,” Y/n said and looked into Daryl's eyes. “I’m not cold anymore, I’ll go look for some stuff for us to keep us warm.” She told the archer as she stood up. “See if you can find anything useful.”

The two of them searched the cabin for anything useful. Daryl didn’t find much, a couple of cans with dried jerky in them. Y/n found a blanket that could keep the two of them warm. She was looking intensely searching every corner. Daryl was sitting on the couch again waiting for her to come back.

“Look what I found!” Y/n smiled while dangling a bottle of whiskey in her hand.

“Nah, yer not drinkin’ anythin’ Y/n,” Daryl stood up quickly, snatching the bottle from her hands.

He didn’t want to get drunk because he’s an asshole when he’s drunk, and that he’d probably say some stuff or do some shit that would expose how he feels for Y/n. She pouted at him and huffed annoyed, then snatched the bottle from his hand. Quickly taking off the cap and putting the liquor into her mouth.

“Hey!” Daryl yelled trying to take the bottle from her, making her giggle in return. “Give it to me! Ya shouldn’t be drinkin’ that shit!”

“Come on Daryl! Don’t be such a party-pooper!” She chuckled.

Though, Daryl didn’t think this was funny. He continuously tried to snatch the bottle while she held it up in the air, constantly switching places back and forth.

“Just one sip Daryl, please!” Y/n pushed him back so that he stumbled a bit then held the bottle out to him.

“Fine...” he breathed.

Daryl took the bottle softly out of her hands and brought it up to his lips. He couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in his stomach from thinking that her lips had just been wrapped where his were at the moment.

“Now let me have another sip!” Y/n exclaimed excitedly.

She took the bottle out of Daryl's soft grip and poured it down her throat.

“’Kay, that’s enough.” He murmured then took the bottle to then drink some more.

Y/n sat down on the couch and watched as Daryl drank the strong whiskey like it was nothing. For each second that passed by the more attractive Daryl started to look. The more Y/n wanted his strong body pressed against hers. He passed the liquor back to her which she happily accepted. She patted on the couch next to her telling Daryl to sit down. Y/n took a big sip then looked Daryl deeply in the eyes. The alcohol started to take effect on her.

“Daryl...” she whispered softly, capturing his attention for him to look at her.

“Hmm?” he hums, watching her putting the bottle down onto the floor.

“I really like you, you know...” Y/n confessed making Daryl flustered.

She started scooting closer to Daryl slowly. Putting her hand on his thigh, listening to his breathing picking up and becoming heavier. He had his eyes glued on hers. Panic rising inside him. Was this actually happening? Did she just say that?

“Do you want to fuck me?” she whispered sensually into his ear, putting her hand just above his growing erection. “Cause I want you to fuck me hard Daryl...” Y/n nibbled on his earlobe. “I’ve always wanted that...”

“Yer drunk.” He grunted when Y/n started to rub his now hard dick through his jeans. “Y/n...”

“Yeah?” She hummed and leaned in to kiss him, Daryl just sat there thinking about what he was supposed to do.

He really wanted this, Y/n kissing his neck and jaw, making him feel butterflies in his stomach, but what would Rick say or do when he found out. The alcohol rushing through his body was telling him to do it, give her what she wants. His mind told him no, it’s not a good idea. So much would change with him and Rick. He liked Y/n a lot, he had liked her for a long time but everything would change so drastically.

“’M too old for ya... and what will yer dad do when he finds out?” Daryl asked her.

“He won’t know, please Daryl, fuck me.” Y/n breathed in his ear and unzipped his jeans. “Please.”

She pulled out his erection, licking her lips. Without missing a beat shelled down from the couch and sat on her knees in front of him.

“Are you okay with this...?” she asked him and fluttered her eyelashes when she looked him in the eyes.

Daryl was in too deep now to shut this down. His dick was screaming out for her, he wanted her. He had been wanting her for such a long time and he could have her now.

“Yah...” he grunted when Y/n took a hold of his dick and licked a stripe up his thick length.

Daryl watched intensely as Y/n teased him, licking up and down his shaft. He let out a throaty moan when she started to suck harshly on his tip. Daryl's hands went to her head at an instant, desperately wanting her to take his length into her mouth, to take it all, as far as he could get down her throat.

This was a fantasy come true for Y/n. She had dreamt of this for a while, sucking Daryl off. In her fantasy he was always stressed about something, and now, he was a little stressed about the fact that if Rick found out, Daryl was a deadman.

She parted her mouth, wrapped her lips around his cock, then started moving her head up and down slowly, sucking his dick. Daryl moaned, grunted and pushed his hips up. Though, this speed was not enough for him. He gripped Y/n’s hair and started bobbing her head up and down his length. Y/n gripped his thighs when he caused her to start gagging as he had started to face fuck her roughly. Bucking his hips up into her mouth, her nose hitting his pubic region, his pubic hairs tickling her, tears running down from her eyes from all the gagging.

Daryl felt himself starting to get close and knew he had to stop himself from coming in her mouth, because if he did then he wouldn’t be able to fuck her as good. He pulled her off of him, breathing heavily, sweat shining on his forehead. Y/n gasped for air when he released her, coughing as she breathed, she wiped away the drool on her chin then looked up at Daryl with innocence shining in her eyes. Daryl had his forearm against his forehead, eyes closed, still breathing heavily, calming down from what had just happened. He looked down into her eyes, the sight of her tear stained cheeks and messed up hair was all beauty to Daryl.

“Come ‘ere.” He groaned and pulled her up from the floor as he stood up.

Daryl took his vest and shirt off, then the shoes, socks, pants and finally his underwear leaving him completely naked. Y/n reached out to touch him but Daryl stopped her. Gripping her hands, he tossed her down onto the couch and pinned her to it.

“Ya still sure ya want this?” He mumbled then leaned in to kiss her neck.

“Yes, please Daryl.” Y/n gasped when he took her shirt off aggressively.

She kicked her boots and socks off, meanwhile Daryl kissed down from her neck to her cloth covered breasts.

“Yer so damn beautiful,” he whispered loud enough for Y/n to hear into her skin.

Daryl unclasped her bra and tossed it to the floor. He hummed amused before going in to start playing around with her nipples. He bit down around her nipple, then sucked, kissed and licked on them.

“Daryl,” Y/n whimpered.

He continued moving down onto her body, from her tits to her jeans, leaving sloppy kisses all the way. Daryl undid her jeans then slid them off, he let his hands slide from her knees down to her inner thighs, pressing roughly, pushing her legs apart. Y/n rolled her hips as Daryl lowered his head and started kissing around her covered core.

“Please,” she breathed out, begging.

Daryl kissed her on her core then dragged her panties off. Y/n sucked in a sharp breath, getting ready for Daryl to go down on her. He wanted to do it because this was his chance to please her, his chance to make love to her, his chance to make her feel good, Daryl didn’t know if he’d get another one of those chances. He needed to taste her and feel her wrapped tightly around him.

“Shit,” Y/n breathed out sharply when Daryl wrapped his lips around her clit and started sucking harshly.

She wrapped her thighs around his head, trapping him between her legs. Y/n’s hands traveled down to grip Daryl hair when he started tongue fucking her before going back to sucking on her hard clit. His stubble ticklishly scratched her inner thighs, making her shiver. She bucked her hips up into Daryl's face when he started moving his tongue in another motion over her clit, pace faster than before. Daryl then roughly grabbed her hips and pushed her down onto the couch.

“Daryl!” She cried, her hips trying to move under his grip.

He fucked her hole as far as he could with his tongue until he decided it wasn’t enough. Daryl went back to flicking his tongue over her clit. Then Y/n completely lost it when Daryl stuck two fingers into her entrance.

“Oh!” She arched her back. “Fuck, Daryl!”

Every time Y/n cried out for him, he sped up his pace and fucked her harder with his fingers. His fingers moved fast inside her, he curled them at the perfect time and then fucked her roughly, ramming his fingers into her to the knuckle.

“I’m gonna cum!* Y/n cried even louder now, she was feeling herself getting closer to her orgasm as the seconds went by.

The knot in her stomach was begging to become undone, Daryl thrusted his fingers deep in her over and over again. His tongue flicking over her clit, then sucking on it harder and harder. When he curled his fingers at that exact spot inside Y/n, she felt herself becoming undone.

“Shit!” she shrieked.

Daryl felt her juices starting to stream out of her. He licked her before sitting up, wiping his chin. He watched as Y/n laid there, legs shaking, breathing heavily. His boner was starting to become painful at the moment. He needed to get inside her as soon as possible. Daryl got on top of her once again, this time with his head at the same level as hers.

“Ya ready babygirl?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Y/n looked up into his piercing blue eyes.

Daryl leant down to kiss her, she kissed him back the second his lips were planted on hers. He lined himself up at her entrance when they finally broke the kiss. Daryl was already panting with his lips planted barely a millimeter away from her forehead, he was already panting even though he hadn’t even entered her yet. When he slid inside her warmth Daryl had to restrain himself from letting out a long groan. Y/n gasped when he slammed back inside her after he had pulled back out. Her core had been aching for Daryl for what felt like an eternity and now Y/n was finally able to fulfill her fantasies about Daryl. Though, she didn’t know how he was in bed yet or if he’d like to be called something other than his name. This was their first time and she didn’t want to scare him away immediately.

Daryl started moving faster and faster on top of her, him fucking into her pool of wetness making sounds that sounded like music to the two adults. When Daryl rammed in with a lot more force than before Y/n let out a moan into his ear, she could’ve sworn that made him growl. Daryl put one hand down onto the couch steading himself on it as he repeatedly fucked into Y/n with a steady but rapid rhythm. She had her legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to go deeper and deeper. She moaned out loud repeatedly, slowly losing the ability to speak.

“Fuck!” Y/n moaned. “Harder, please!”

He listened to whatever she wanted then gave it to her at an instant. She arched her back when he started to go harder, burying her nails into his back, slowly scratching him down his entire back.

“Faster Daryl!” She pleaded. “I’m almost there!”

“Shit,”he let out in a breathy moan.

Daryl gripped her hip with his other hand, pinning her stomach down against the couch, giving himself access to fuck into her faster. He rammed into her brutally hard making Y/n gasp when he hit her special spot.

“Do that again.” She breathed heavily into his ear.

And so he did, Daryl rammed inside her once again earning another gasp from her. He felt her starting to clench tighter and tighter around his thick length.

“You like that?” He whispered into Y/n’s ear when he’d lower his head down so that it was next to hers.

“Shit, yeah!” Y/n cried when he did it again. “I’m gonna- Fuck daddy!”

Her eyes widened when she had realized what she said right when she came all over his dick and pubes. Daryl moaned when he heard what she had said. He had never had a woman call him that while he was having sex with them but he liked it. He didn't know whether it was because it was just Y/n that had practically screamed it or that he had just never been called it in that way before. Daryl thought it sounded so weird to have some girl call you that while doing it but turns out it wasn't so bad. It actually just pushed Daryl closer to find his release while he continuously fucked into Y/n.

“Say that again babygirl, shit.” He moaned out.

“Daddy!” Y/n cried when Daryl started getting rougher and rougher with his thrusts.

“Again.” He grunted feeling that he was almost at the finish line.

When Y/n suddenly lost the ability to speak due to Daryls purely brutal thrusts he threw one of her shaking legs over his shoulder and gripped her jaw.

“Say it, bitch.” Y/n felt herself get even hotter even though she had just had one of the best climaxes of her life. “Who am I?”

“Daddy!”

Daryl grunted loudly when he felt that he had passed the finish line. He filled her up with his seed, coating her walls. Y/n was breathing heavily as he rode out his orgasm.

“Shit.” Daryl grunted when he collapsed down beside her.

He looked into Y/n’s eyes and could see the mischief dancing around in them. “Just don’t tell my dad about this,” she smirked. “Daddy...”

Daryl couldn’t help but chuckle, what the hell had he gotten himself into?

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Taglist: (click here to be apart of it!) 

@florchuvila22 // @simplyparker // @hail-yourselves // @lacilulu77 // @666ting666 // @DwellingCaller // @trickywoofie0624 // @Enternalxfanfic // @fheresm // @whenmypartysover // @darylsbitchhhh // @thedeadwalkingdixon // @misaruswrld // @A_Teen.Wolf_fan // @TWD-girl6031 // @Leletyis // @daboismine // @Pietschalexis21 // @yummybaespost // @Abbys-slave // @bananablue // @kaitieskidmore1 // @kozumewhore // @thatonejurdanshipper // @tatespillows // @Slut-for-smut-shii // @Rosadelacruz // @star017 // @ladykxxx08 // @craycraycatwoman // @xojdmasf  —————————————————————————————

[din-jarhead]

Cross My Heart

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader 

Rating: E (minors skedaddle) 

Word Count: 2.1k 

Warnings: TUWOMT SPOILERS, fluff, very soft smut, Javi’s going through it™️, mentions of ptsd symptoms, needy!Javi, unprotected piv sex, lots of kissing, fingering, hand job, oral (m receiving) 

A/N: my first Javi G fic because I finally saw the movie! This is set after the events of the film so there are spoilers! I just felt like bb Javi deserves some softness. I feel like this could be multiple parts if people like it, since I’m almost done with my semester I’ll have more time to get things out more consistently during the summer, so if you’d want more please let me know!

Masterlist PART 2

You’ve been Javi’s personal assistant ever since he moved to Santa Barbara to get away from all the “business” in Mallorca. He didn’t really talk about it, but you knew it changed him and despite how much he tried to hide it, you could see the trauma it caused. 

Despite the success of his movie with Nic, he tried to stay out of the spotlight to keep any lingering enemies from finding him. He didn’t get out much, and so you ended up being pretty much the only person in Javi’s life. 

You spent all your time with him, living in his guest house, though most nights you fell asleep on his living room couch after working halfway into the night.

On those nights, you could often hear that he was having nightmares, but whenever you were just about to check on him he’d calm down. 

You didn’t mention anything to him so he wouldn’t think you were intruding. 

You also couldn’t lie to yourself, staying in the main house until Javi fell asleep hasn’t really been an accident in months. You wanted to be there, close enough that if he didn’t calm down on his own, you could help him. 

The moment you met Javi you knew you were going to fall for him. He was charming, funny, a little bit chaotic, and really fucking sexy. 

Working for him didn’t feel like work. 

Yes, he paid you, but he didn’t treat you like an employee, more like a good friend that happens to run his business. 

You wished it could be more than that, but you’d never risk your job trying to make a move. You’d rather spend the rest of your life pining for him in secret than have to leave because you told him how you feel. 

On this particular night, Javi seemed more tense than usual. He had decided to go to the grocery store on his own earlier in the day; he’d said he wanted to cook something special and there were a lot of specific ingredients he needed to pick out himself. When he got back, he looked like he’d seen a ghost, but when you asked he just brushed you off and secluded himself in his office. 

After a few hours, he emerged again, sunny as usual as if nothing was wrong. He made dinner and you two enjoyed the meal together. Despite his outward attitude being happy, you could still feel lingering tension. 

As you finished dessert, you decided to push a little. 

“Javi, is everything okay? You seem a little stressed.”

“Everything is fine” he smiled, picking up your plate along with his and escaping to the kitchen. 

After he put the dishes in the dishwasher, he walked back out, making his way quickly to his bedroom. 

“I am tired, I am going to get some sleep. Feel free to stay as long as you like.” 

The last sentence felt pointed, like he wanted you to stay. You still didn’t understand what was wrong, but you just got the feeling you needed to stay tonight, not that you had planned to leave. 

You had some emails to respond to, so you set up your laptop and settled in on the couch.

A few hours later, you were finally finishing up your work, when you heard some sounds coming from Javi’s room. It sounded like the sheets rustling, maybe he was just turning or something. 

But his movements started sounding more frantic, and eventually he seemed to be muttering something. You waited a few minutes, but around the time when he’d usually calm back down, things were just getting worse. 

You quietly stood up from the couch, getting a little closer to the bedroom. Javi kept the door open so you could see him in the dark, head turning rapidly, a layer of sweat on his forehead and chest. 

His hands were fisting the sheets, and he was getting louder, starting to form words. 

“No… please… no!” 

He sounded completely panicked. Steeling your nerves, you pushed the door open the rest of the way and rushed to his side. 

You grabbed his hand, gently rubbing his arm to try waking him. 

“Javi, hey Javi wake up, please wake up it’s okay” you whispered, trying not to startle him too much. 

His eyes finally opened, and he searched the room for a moment trying to get his bearings, and when he finally saw you his breathing slowed a little. 

“Querida, what…?”

Querida. He’s never called you that before. 

“It’s okay, Javi. You were having a bad dream. Just breathe. Do you want some water?”

You started to move to get him a glass, but he grabbed your hand. 

“No, please just— please stay.”

You nodded and he shifted a little to make room for you to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Javi sat up, but didn’t let go of your hand.

He ran his free hand through his hair, continuing to work on slowing his breathing down. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

He didn’t really, but he also knew it might help. 

“Today when I went to the grocery store, I thought I saw someone from my past. When I got home I did research to make sure he was not here. It was not him, but I will not pretend it did not scare me. I guess it brought up all of my bad memories and caused a nightmare.” 

You were trying to maintain eye contact to keep him grounded, but he kept looking away. You knew you were reaching a line you hadn’t ever crossed, digging into things he might not be ready to share. But you also couldn’t let him feel this way alone. 

“What happened in the dream? Was he coming after you?” 

He hesitated. He was debating whether to tell you. Just as you opened your mouth to tell him he didn’t have to tell you any more, he spoke first. 

“No, he was not coming after me directly. He was— he tried—“ Javi took a steadying breath. 

“He was going to hurt you.” 

You almost didn’t hear the last part he was so quiet. 

“Well, I’m right here and I’m just fine. It was just a dream. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Promise?” He was looking into your eyes now. 

“Cross my heart.” 

That’s when things shifted. You both felt it. You’d crossed that invisible line and now you were teetering at the edge of a cliff, and all you had to do was jump. 

He must have had the same thought, because you both leaned in at the same moment, lips finally meeting. That first kiss was gentle and quick, but Javi moved his hands to cup your face and pulled you in again for one that was much hungrier. 

One hand then moved down your back, encouraging you to get even closer. The angle got a bit difficult so you soon ended up on his lap. You placed your hands on his bare chest and pushed just enough to get him to look at you.

His pupils were blown wide, lips puffy and a blush creeping up his neck (which you were very much hoping to get your mouth on soon). 

“Javi, will you let me take care of you? Take your mind off those memories?”

“Yes. Please.” 

You brought your hand up to his face, stroking his cheek, mapping every beautiful landmark. You ran your fingers through his curls, causing him to close his eyes and lean into your touch. 

“You’re so beautiful, Javi.”

You kissed his lips again, then moved to his jaw, and down to his neck. You spent time there. Licking and nipping gently like you’d been desperate to do since you met him. As you moved down to his freckled  shoulder, his hips bucked up against yours, reminding you of where he really needed you. 

Loathe to cease your ministrations on his upper body, you slipped one hand down to his flannel pants, undoing the tie, and gently wrapping your fingers around his length.  

While you left little marks on his collarbone and chest, where no one else could see them, you slowly stroked him, earning little whimpers and gasps from Javi. 

You descended down to his tummy, worshipping it just as equally, and eventually your lips met up with your hand. 

“Querida, you don’t have to—”

You cut him off by wrapping your lips around him, taking him most of the way into your mouth in one swift motion. 

He grabbed your hair, careful not to pull, but desperate to touch you. He cursed and praised you continuously as you worked. 

“So g-good to me, always so good. My star. I have— fuck— dreamed of this for so long.” 

Your hand returned to Javi’s cock as you moved your mouth to gently suck his balls, causing his breath to hitch and whimpers to get a little louder. 

“Please, little star. I am getting so close, but I don’t want it to end like this. I need— let me be inside you.” He gently grabbed your arms, pulling you up to his lips again, hips once again top of his. 

“Anything, Javi. Take anything you need.” 

He quickly rid you of your shirt, staring in awe at your breasts as his hands came up to touch them. He took one nipple into his mouth, causing your back to arch into his touch. Suddenly he flipped you, laying you down on the bed and hovering over you. 

He moved down to strip your bottoms and panties off your legs, gently opening your thighs to see all of you. 

“Such a beautiful pussy, my little star. I cannot wait to be inside you, but first you need to be ready.” 

He gently circled two fingers around your clit, pleasure shooting up your spine. 

“Javi— oh— I’m supposed to be taking care of you” 

“I cannot imagine better care than being permitted to touch your body.” 

He slowly pushed his fingers inside you, continuing to circle your clit with his thumb. You were getting close and he could tell, feeling you pulsing around him.

“Cum for me little star, let me see you.” 

He kissed you as you fell apart, swallowing your moans. He removed his fingers once you stopped shaking from your release, using them to spread your slick on his cock. 

He pushed into you, slowly spreading you open for him. You could tell he was holding back, letting you adjust to his size. 

“Javi, I’m good. Please move, take what you need from me.”

With that permission he rocked into you, keeping a slow pace but hitting deep within you. 

“You are so tight around me, star, so— so warm and— fuck— I can’t—“ 

Javi was babbling, losing any ability to form actual thoughts. Exactly what you hoped for. 

He buried his face in your neck, surrounding himself in you. You wrapped your arms around him, one hand clinging to his shoulder, the other carding through his curls and lightly scratching his scalp, soothing him even more. 

You weren’t sure if he had been fucking you for hours or minutes, but you knew you didn’t ever want it to end. Javi was getting close though, his thrusts becoming more erratic. 

He untangled himself from you enough to move a hand down the front of your body, circling your clit quickly to bring you to the edge with him. 

“Give me another little star, I need you to cum for me so I can fill you up.”

A few more thrusts had you tightening around him, orgasm wracking through you and pulling him over the cliff with you. 

You felt his cum painting your walls as you recovered from your high, both of you trembling with aftershocks. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, just enjoying the calm. 

Eventually Javi gently pulled out of you and went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth to clean you both up, then joined you again in bed. 

You laid on your side, Javi laying down to face you, pulling you close to him and wrapping his arms around you.

“Feeling better?” You asked, hand finding its way to his face again. 

He placed his hand on yours, turning his face to kiss your palm.

“Very much. I’m so happy you were here.” 

“I’m always here, Javi.” 

“What happens now? I don’t think I can keep paying you if we are sleeping together.” 

You breathed out a laugh, knowing he was right. 

“I’m not sure. I can look for another job, but I’ll still be here when you need me.” 

He gave you those puppy dog eyes, dismayed at the idea of you being away from him even for a second. 

“I have plenty to support you, my star. You don’t need to work. Just let me care for you.” 

You pretended to consider it for a moment. 

“Okay. If you let me continue helping you with some business stuff so I don’t go crazy, I’m all yours.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”