#reminding myself to play oneshot :) Tumblr posts

[jils-things]

i wanna go back to playing oneshot again... and just. enjoying myself in the oneshot universe

[janiehellion]

Breaking Through

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl’s reckless behavior on a supply run nearly gets him killed, pushing you to remind him how to stay humble. Little did you know, his attitude was hiding something much deeper that only you could break through.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MOMMY KINK / SMUT / BODY WORSHIP / ORAL SEX / EDGING / TEASING / HURT / COMFORT / AFTERCARE / LANGUAGE

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.799

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: LATE S5 & EARLY S6

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @mayday2007

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I truly hope I did your request justice! I also hope that the length of it is okay and that it met your expectations. And thank you so much for your patience!

MASTERLIST

You leaned against the porch, one of the few spots in Alexandria that didn’t make you want to rip your hair out. It all felt too damn clean sometimes, too fake even. Here, it was easy to forget how the world had gone to shit, but... Daryl? He never let himself forget. He was walking around by the gate, looking like an animal waiting for a fight, and you knew why...

Rick and a few others were getting ready for a run—another trip outside the safe walls to scavenge for supplies. But more than that, it was an excuse for Daryl to escape the suffocation of Alexandria. He’d rather be out there with the walkers than in here, playing pretend.

"Daryl," you called out, and he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his eyes narrowing like he was already preparing for a lecture from you.

"What?" He grunted, sounding as defensive as ever. He was always on alert these days, and it was only getting worse since you arrived in Alexandria.

"Listen," you started, stepping down from the porch and running toward him as he prepared to leave. "I know you hate this place, and I understand; I really do, but you need to keep your head on straight out there. You’re not just out there for yourself. You’ve got Rick, Glenn, and Michonne with you today. You fuck anything up; they could get hurt too. Please, just be careful."

He looked away, scuffing his boot against the ground like a stubborn child who didn’t want to hear what you were saying. "Ain’t no damn kid. Can handle myself," he growled back at you.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. "You might be able to handle yourself, sure, and we all know that you are more than capable of doing that, but that doesn’t mean you can act reckless. You need to listen to Rick, do what he says, and stop acting like a damn brat. You keep pulling this shit, and one of these days, it’s gonna bite you in the ass. Literally."

Daryl clenched his jaw and scoffed, and for a moment, you thought he might actually argue with you. But then he just shook his head. "Yer done now?"

"No, Daryl, I’m not done," you snapped back, feeling your frustration grow and almost boil over. "I’m tired of watching you do this bullshit, okay? We’re all trying to make this work, and you’re out there acting like you’ve got a death wish. We’ve lost too many people already, and I’m not about to lose you or anyone else because you couldn’t keep your damn self in check."

For a second, you saw something like vulnerability, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He looked away again, like he was trying to block out your words, not wanting to listen to you.

"Just... think about what I said, okay?" You said, the tone in your voice softening slightly. You didn’t want to push him too hard, but you couldn’t just let this slide again all the time. "I’m not trying to piss you off, Daryl. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. We all need you to come back. I... I need you to come back."

He didn’t say anything; he just gave you a nod before finally turning away. But as you watched him walk toward Rick, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that something bad was going to happen on this run.

Rick was already waiting by the gate, his hands on his hips as he looked around Alexandria. He seemed to be tired, but when he saw you approaching as well, he gave you a small smile.

"Did you talk to him?" Rick asked, his voice whispering, so only you could hear.

"Yeah," you replied, glancing over at Daryl, who was busy playing around with his knife. "But you know how he is. Stubborn as hell."

Rick laughed a little, but there was no real humor in it. "Yeah. Isn't that the truth? Don’t worry, I'll keep an eye on him while we’re out there, alright? If he does something stupid..."

"You'll make sure he doesn’t," you interrupted, not needing him to finish the sentence.

"Alright. Got it. We’ll be back before you know it," Rick said, louder now and turning to the gate as it opened, and Glenn arrived with the car. "We’re heading out. Stay close, keep quiet, and don’t take any unnecessary risks. We get what we need, and we get back. That's it."

You watched as Daryl took his crossbow and walked with Rick and the others over to the truck. You were worried, sure, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This was Daryl Dixon, after all. He was tough, he was resourceful, and he’d been through far worse than this. But still, there was that uncomfortable feeling in the back of your mind, the one that told you things weren’t going to go smoothly today.

Rick took Daryl aside in the meantime. "Listen, Daryl. We stick to the plan, and we get back without any extra bullshit. You got that?"

Daryl glared at Rick but didn’t say anything. You knew that look; it was the one that said he was going to do what he wanted anyway.

With that, Rick and the others—Glenn and Michonne, in this case—headed out, leaving you in Alexandria with the rest of the group.

You turned away, heading back to the house, but your thoughts were still with Daryl. You just hoped he’d listen to you for once, or rather, Rick. Because if he didn’t, you weren’t sure you’d be able to forgive him—or yourself—if something went wrong.

The truck stopped at the side of a parking lot some time later. Abandoned cars were standing around all over the place, with their windows shattered and rotting corpses still sitting in some of them. It was a graveyard. Rick turned off the engine and looked over to the building, his face already showing that things were about to get rough.

"This place is full of walkers," Rick mumbled, looking around the area. "Okay… We get in, we get out. No fucking around. Got it?"

Everyone nodded, even Daryl, though the look in his eyes told a different story. Alexandria was killing him slowly, suffocating him with its safety and daily routine, and one could see he was just waiting to break free, to remind himself what it felt like to be out there again, in the real world, and not living in an illusion.

"Stick together," Rick continued, his eyes narrowing at Daryl like he could read his mind. "We’re hitting that grocery store, grabbing what we can, and getting the hell out. Nothing else, no bullshit."

Daryl grunted in response, his hand tightening around his crossbow. He wasn’t making any promises; that was clear enough, but at least he wasn’t outright showing it. That would have to be good enough. The four of them got out of the truck, their weapons ready, and slowly made their way toward the store. It looked like it had been raided a few times already, but Rick had heard from Aaron that a shipment had been left behind in the storage rooms—lots of canned food, water, and even medicine inside the small pharmacy of the store, locked up in the back, just waiting to be taken. Easy, if they played it safe.

Of course, playing it safe had not been Daryl’s way of doing it lately, not when his blood was boiling, and especially not since the prison, Terminus, and the other hell everyone went through. And especially not ever since Alexandria.

They went through the side entrance, which was once for the people that had worked there, the glass doors hanging off their hinges, and one could easily guess how most of the walkers got into the store in the first place, apart from those walkers that’ve died inside while scavenging. The inside of the store was pure chaos, with broken shelves, rotten food, and other empty products all across the floor. They moved quietly as Rick led the way, his Colt Python out and ready as always, Glenn close behind with his knife drawn, and Michonne with her sword, while Daryl was at the end, pointing his crossbow around as well. They soon made it to the back of the store, where the stockroom doors were, without drawing any attention so far.

"Alright," Rick whispered, motioning for the others to cover him. "Glenn and I will try to open the door. Michonne, watch our backs. Daryl, you—"

But before Rick could finish, Daryl was already moving. He didn’t like waiting, didn’t like standing around while others decided what to do, or having to wait for a plan. Without a word, he went off to the right, disappearing down one of the side aisles, his crossbow at the ready.

"Daryl!" Rick hissed, but there was no stopping him.

"Shit," Glenn grumbled in a bit of annoyance and panic, his eyes looking at Rick. "Where the hell is he going? What is he doing?"

Rick shook his head in frustration. "Just... just stay here," he ordered before walking after Daryl, cursing to himself with every step.

Daryl moved fast, his crossbow raised as he approached the loading dock at the back of the store from another side. He could hear the sounds of walkers moving behind the metal door, but this was exactly what he was looking for. He shoved the door open with a grunt, with the door making a noise that could be heard all throughout the whole store.

The walkers inside turned at the sound, and they immediately moved forward, their arms outstretched.

"C’mon, ya ugly bastards," Daryl mumbled, the first bolt killing the nearest walker in an instant. The walker fell to the ground, but the others kept coming.

He reloaded quickly, but just as he was about to fire again, a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him off balance. He hadn’t noticed the few other walkers, hidden in an open employee restroom nearby, their fingers grabbing his vest with their teeth only inches away from his face.

"Fuck!" Daryl growled, kicking the walker in front of him back and grabbing his knife. But he soon stumbled, falling down to the floor with the two of them on top of him. The impact knocked the knife from his hands, letting it slide across the floor, just out of reach, as he struggled to push the walkers off.

Then, just as the walkers’ teeth were about to bite into his flesh, several gunshots could be heard. Daryl gasped for breath, shoving the dead off him as he got to his feet, his heart racing while he looked over at Rick standing in the doorway with his Colt Python.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Rick said, lowering the gun. "What the hell were you even thinking?"

Daryl wiped the blood from his face, glaring at Rick but not saying a single word. He didn’t need to—he knew he’d fucked up, and Rick certainly knew it too.

But Rick didn’t wait for an explanation. "We need to hurry. Get your damn ass back to the truck. Now!"

For now, Daryl didn’t argue. He grabbed his crossbow and knife, putting it over his shoulder as he moved past Rick and over to Glenn and Michonne. He could feel Rick’s eyes on his back, judging him, and it took everything in him not to lash out. But he knew Rick was right. He’d been reckless, and it had nearly cost him his life. Not only that, but the supply run failed with the other walkers in the front of the store now moving toward the storage room.

Once outside, Daryl couldn’t ignore the thought that he’d fucked up more than just the run. He’d broken the trust, not just with Rick but with you. And he knew he’d have to face the consequences when he got back.

The sun was starting to set when you saw Rick and the others coming through the gate. You’d been waiting, walking around Alexandria, trying to distract yourself. But the deal had been clear—Rick would bring Daryl back in one piece and tell you every detail. But the moment you caught sight of Rick, you knew something had gone wrong. It was written all over his face, as was the fact that they had no supplies with them.

"Rick," you called out, running over to him.

He looked up at you, nodding and narrowing his eyes. You hated that look. It meant bad news, and you were tired of bad news.

"What happened?" You demanded as he walked next to you. "Where’s Daryl?"

"He’s fine," Rick said, holding up a hand to calm you down, though it didn’t do shit for your nerves. "I don't know where he is right now. Jumped right out of the truck. Physically, he’s okay. But, hell, it was close. Too close. Again."

Your stomach dropped at his words. This was getting out of hand. "What do you mean, 'close'?"

Rick rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for a moment. "We were in that store Aaron told us about, wanting to get the supplies. Daryl decided to go off on his own, like he always does lately. Didn’t wait for us as a backup, just did his own thing. Not even telling us that there was an easier way and that he has seen it. Next thing I know, he’s nearly got two walkers biting into his damn neck."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "I told him—hell, we both told him so many times���not to pull that lone wolf bullshit anymore! And he still did it? I can’t fucking believe it!"

Rick nodded. "Yeah. Same old Daryl, too stubborn for his own good. I got there in time, but if I hadn’t... well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now."

You sucked in a breath, trying to calm the rage inside you. But it was hard—damn hard—when you pictured Daryl almost getting himself killed because he couldn’t follow simple instructions. "What the hell is wrong with him, Rick? Why does he keep doing this shit? Is Alexandria that bad for him? I mean, yeah, we all aren’t used to this... illusion, but hell, we’re at least trying to make the best of it! All of us!"

Rick sighed, leaning against the porch railing once you both arrived at the house. "I don’t think it’s only about Alexandria, not entirely. But yeah, it’s too controlled, too... fake. So he goes out there, trying to prove he’s still... still who he was out there. But it’s not like none of us tries the exact same thing. We all do. Or did."

You shook your head in frustration. "I get it; I do. But we can’t keep going on like this. He’s going to get himself killed—or worse, get someone else hurt. I’m fucking done sitting around, hoping he’ll pull his head out of his damn ass!"

Rick looked at you with a small smile. "By now I was thinking the same thing on the way back. We’ve tried to talk sense into him, but he isn’t listening. He’s too stubborn."

"That’s it," you finally said. "I’m handling this. If he won’t listen to you, maybe he’ll finally listen to me. But one way or another, this shit stops today, I swear."

Rick’s eyebrows moved up in surprise before he nodded slowly. "You sure? I don’t think you should push him into a corner."

You smirked, but it was more due to annoyance than amusement. "Oh, I’m sure. He’s going to learn today that there’s more than one way to get his damn ass in line. Trust me, Rick. Otherwise… Otherwise, I just don’t know what to do anymore."

Rick laughed a little and shook his head. "Alright then. Just don’t go too hard on him. And you must remember that it takes time. With… all of this."

You waved him off, already halfway down the steps of the porch. "He’ll be fine, Rick."

As you headed toward the garage, where you knew Daryl was probably working on his bike, your mind was already racing with what you were going to say. This wasn’t just about Daryl acting like a reckless asshole—this was about keeping him and the others alive, keeping him from throwing away everything you’d fought so hard for in this new world, with the rest of the group.

The moment you stepped into the garage, he barely looked your way, too focused on tightening a bolt that didn’t even need any more tightening. But you weren’t about to let him ignore you, not after what Rick had told you.

"Daryl," you started, but he only grunted in response, and that was about it—just a damn grunt, like he couldn’t be bothered to reply with words. And it pissed you off how he could be so nonchalant after nearly getting himself killed.

"Look at me," you snapped, stepping closer to him. "I said... Look at me, Dixon."

He paused, his hand stilling on the wrench, before finally looking into your eyes with a scoff.

"You think you can just go off on your own and do whatever the fuck you want? Well, guess what, Daryl? You almost got your damn throat ripped out today. And for what? Because you couldn’t listen? Because you’re too stubborn to accept that you’re part of a community now, and not some lone wolf out there in the woods with a group he helps out every now and then?" You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Ain’t like that," he mumbled, but it didn’t really sound like he was trying to defend himself.

"Bullshit!" You shot back, stepping even closer until you were right in his face, close enough to see the way his eyes widened slightly. "It’s exactly like that, and you know it. And for what? To prove something? To whom? You ain’t gotta prove anything to me, Daryl. And certainly not our group. But you do owe it to us to stop acting like a fucking idiot!"

He turned away from you, but you weren’t done yet. "This isn’t just about you anymore, Dixon. Every time you pull this shit, you put everyone at risk. Everyone! You get bit, we lose a member of this group. A member of our damn family! You die, and we all suffer! Do you even get that? Or are you that stuck with your own damn head up your ass that you can’t see that?"

"Ain’t need ya shittin’ on me," he growled, his voice quiet, but you caught something like guilt in it. "Can handle my ass."

"Clearly," you snapped at him with sarcasm. "Because you handled yourself so well today that Rick had to pull your ass out of a walker’s mouth. Real smooth, Daryl! Real fucking smooth!"

He flinched at that, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to face you. "Ain’t like I needed any damn help."

You didn’t back down, though. You were way past that. "And that’s the problem, Daryl. You think that you don’t need anyone. But guess what? You do. You need us, and we need you. So stop acting like an asshole and start thinking about what you’re doing to everyone else."

For a second, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he just looked at you—really looked at you—like he was trying to figure something out. "Why ya care s’ much?" He finally asked.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Because I give a shit, you damn idiot. Because I... care about you more than anyone else here even knows, and I’m not about to watch you throw your life away over some macho bullshit, or whatever you’re trying to act like. You think I want to lose you? You think any of us do?"

He stared at you. "Ain’t tryna make shit harder," he muttered, looking down at the ground, shrugging his shoulders. "Jus’... can’t stand it ‘ere sometimes. Ain’t me ‘round ‘ere."

"Who you are isn’t some reckless idiot who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else. Who you are is someone who’s saved more lives than you can count, someone who’s part of a family now. And yeah, maybe it’s different here and maybe it’s hard, but that doesn’t give you the right to check out whenever you feel like it, as if this community is a fucking hotel!"

He didn’t say anything; he just kept looking at you with those blue, searching eyes, like he was waiting for you to give him something—some kind of direction.

You took a deep breath. "Daryl, you need to stop this shit. You need to stop before you get yourself killed. And if you won’t listen to Rick, then you’ll damn well listen to me. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, almost whispering. "Got it."

"Good," you said. "Because this stops now. You’re done running off, done putting yourself at risk for no damn reason. From now on, you listen, just like before. We’re all a big team, Daryl, and we still are despite everything. Understand?"

"Yeah… Do ya still lo—" He started but stopped himself from speaking any further. "Are ya mad?"

"What? No, I’m not mad," you answered, stepping back to leave, wanting to give him some space. "But I’m hurt and disappointed."

Daryl sat there for a long time after you left. He gritted his teeth, and his fists were clenched, but it wasn’t anger. It was guilt. Shame even. All he knew was that he’d fucked up.

"Stupid, stupid fuckin’ idiot," he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair while he could still hear your voice in his head. "Fuckin’ piece o' shit. Can’t even keep yer damn head straight."

He felt like a fool, like a stubborn kid who’d just been put in his place. But it wasn’t just the anger that stuck with him—it was the look in your eyes, the pain and fear of what could’ve happened to him.

"Gotta make this right," he grumbled, now walking around the garage. "Ain’t gonna let her think I’m some reckless asshole who don’t care ‘bout nothin’." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She’s right… Been actin’ like a damn idiot. But… shit, need t’ prove I ain’t just some fuckup."

He knew you’d left him alone on purpose, letting him think about it, just like you’ve done several times before. But this time, he wasn’t going to sit here and wait for you to come back. He had a plan—a rather half-baked plan, but it was all he had. He needed to show you how much you meant to him and how much he needed you.

"Fuck, she’s gonna kill me," he sighed, shaking his head as he made his way out of the garage. And he knew exactly where and in what house he was going to find you.

You were already half asleep, lying on the floor on a mattress, when you felt someone being there—before you even opened your eyes. It was Daryl, of course, kneeling over you as he carefully pulled the sheets back.

"What the hell are you doing, Dixon?" You mumbled, still groggy. "Leave me alone."

He didn’t answer right away; he just pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another, moving down your arm, his lips barely touching your skin. It was slow on purpose, like he was trying to worship every inch of you to make up for all the stupid shit he’d done. And it was working, even if it pissed you off that he thought he could just... seduce his way out of this.

"Daryl," you warned, but your voice was weak due to the way his strong, big hands were now sliding down your sides to your waist.

"‘M sorry," he whispered, before he kissed the sensitive spot on your neck. "Fucked it up, I know that. But need ya to know... I ain’t a fool. I need ya, more than ya fuckin’ know."

You wanted to stay mad, to shove him away from you and tell him to get his shit together, but his touch—God, it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was taking away your anger with every kiss and every touch of his hands. And when he put his head lower, kissing along your ribs after he pulled up your shirt, you felt almost frustrated.

"Daryl," you breathed out as a warning again, but he didn’t stop. He slid his hands further up your shirt, pulling it over your head as he kissed down your ribs, his fingers grabbing your body like he was trying to show you that he was still alive.

"Need ya," he mumbled against your skin, his voice sounding almost desperate. "Need ya t’ know I ain’t takin’ this for granted."

"Daryl, stop…" You started, but your words were cut off by a gasp as he found that spot just above your waist, his lips kissing you harder, and his teeth softly biting your skin. You felt a shiver run through you, and hell, you hated how much you wanted this, how much you wanted him to keep going.

"I’ll stop if ya want me to, I swear," he whispered, but he didn’t stop, not really. His hands slid down, undoing your pants and wanting to slide them down, which made you stop breathing for a moment.

You were looking at him, your eyes narrowing. "You think you can just—" You started, but then he shut you up—kissing you hard and long, cutting off your words. And fuck, if it didn’t make your whole body shiver with need.

"Can’t help it," he muttered against your lips, his voice a little shaky, like he was losing control. "Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, ‘bout how much I need ya."

"You think this makes up for what you did? For your reckless behavior?" You asked, shaking your head slightly.

"Nah," he admitted. "Gotta show ya somehow. Gotta show ya how much I fuckin’ care."

You grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from your pants, even though you were already aching for him. "You don’t get to touch me like that," you said. "Not until I say so."

He swallowed hard, his breath stopping as he nodded, his eyes wide. "Please," he whispered, looking up at you and waiting for permission.

"Please what?" You demanded, tightening your grip on his wrists. "You think you can just come in here and expect me to forgive you? After everything?"

"Nah," he stammered, his eyes looking down to the floor again. "But… I need ya. I need ya t’ see that I can make it right."

"You wanna make it right, Daryl?" You asked again. "Then you’re gonna do exactly what I say, like I said."

"Yeah," he answered, his body almost trembling with the need to make you forgive him. "I’ll do whatever ya want."

You let go of his wrists, letting them fall back to his sides. "Take off your clothes," you ordered, the tone in your voice leaving no room for argument.

He hesitated for just a second, but then he started to stand up and get out of his clothes, his hands shaking as he got out of his shirt, then his pants, and the rest, until he was standing there, naked and vulnerable before you.

"Now get back on your knees," you demanded, watching as his eyes widened.

He dropped to his knees, waiting for your next command. And fuck, if that didn’t send a rush of power straight through you.

You stood over him, your hand reaching out to grab his hair, pulling his head back so he was forced to look up at you. "Look at me."

And he did. He slowly looked up in shame.

"You don’t get to play the lone wolf out there," you continued, stepping closer, your hand grabbing his chin, moving his head up further. "Not anymore. You almost got yourself killed."

"I know," he muttered. "‘M sorry..."

He wanted—no, he needed—to show you how he felt about his mistakes, and he was ready to do it on his knees if that’s what you demanded.

You let go of him, letting him fall forward, as you lay back down onto the mattress. "Show me," you simply said.

And he did—God, he did... He kissed every inch of you, his lips moving lower, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you might disappear, and he held onto you like you were the only person able to keep him safe.

He didn’t need to be told twice—he knew what he had to do to make things right.

You leaned back on the mattress, spreading your legs just enough to invite him closer, and watched his hands shake a little as they slid up your thighs.

"Yes," he whispered quietly. He was trying to be tough, but you could see through it. The man was already lost in you, in the need to make you feel good to make up for his earlier bullshit.

No, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; the way he now nearly ripped off the rest of your clothes was almost urgent.

"Goddamn," he whispered, his eyes wide and hungry as he took in the sight of you. "So fuckin’ beautiful."

His hands were trembling as he reached for your bra, fumbling with it before finally getting it off. He slid it off your shoulders, throwing it over to your pants on the floor, his eyes never leaving your breasts.

Daryl’s mouth went dry as he leaned in, his lips stopping just above one nipple. "Can’t believe yer lettin’ me touch ya like this," he whispered, more to himself than to you. Then he closed his mouth around your nipple, his tongue moving over it, making you gasp.

He sucked and licked, using his teeth just a little, sliding them lightly against it, while his other hand was pinching and rolling the other.

"Fuck, Daryl," you groaned, your hands moving through his hair, holding him close as he worshiped your breasts like they were the most important things in the world. "Don’t stop."

He growled against your skin and kept going; he kept sucking, licking, and teasing until your nipples were swollen and hard, sensitive to every little touch.

He soon pulled back, a line of spit connecting his mouth to your nipple before it broke, and he greedily licked over it once more. His eyes were full with need, his breathing heavy as he looked up at you, like he was waiting for permission to keep going.

"You’re going to be a good boy and keep worshipping me?" You asked, your voice teasing and commanding him at the same time.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Please… Need t’…"

"Then do it," you ordered, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

Daryl’s hands moved lower, sliding down your sides, moving along your hips before coming to a stop between your legs. His fingers brushed against your pussy, finding you already wet and wanting, and he let out a growl.

He started slowly, almost with hesitation, like he was worshipping at some holy altar. His lips brushed over the inside of your thighs, soft at first, but when you grabbed his hair again, he got the message. His mouth found your pussy the moment he ripped off your panties, and it was as if a switch flipped.

Daryl buried his face between your legs, his tongue working desperately, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You let out a moan, your hand tightening in his hair, guiding him but also keeping him under your control.

"Fuck, Daryl," you breathed out. "Just like that."

And he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to. Every part of him was focused on you—on the taste of you, the way you trembled when he hit just the right spot. He was completely at your mercy, with the need to prove himself to make you proud.

You could feel him moan against you and how he was getting lost in it, in you. You knew he was desperate for more, desperate for any sign that he was doing good and that you’d forgive him. But you weren’t about to make it easy for him. Not yet, at least.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to get him away from you, and he looked up at you, his lips wet and parted, already missing the taste of you. "Please," he growled out, and you could see the need to do more, to have more of you.

"You keep listening to me. You understand?" You asked, caressing his head gently.

"Yeah," he stammered and nodded in return.

You pushed his head back down, with his tongue slipping inside your pussy almost immediately, like he was trying to eat out every bit of forgiveness he could get.

And fuck, did it feel good. The way he was eating out your pussy, every little move of his tongue, the way he sucked on your clit just hard enough to make you see stars—it was like he was made for this, made to worship you.

"Fuck, don’… don’ make me stop," he growled out in between. He was trembling now, hands still gripping your hips tightly, his eyes wide with something that seemed close to panic, like he couldn’t stand being away from you for even a second.

But you leaned down, grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at you. "You want to make this right? You wait until I’m ready."

He nodded quickly, swallowing hard, his eyes pleading without a word and barely holding it together. He was ready to do anything you asked, to wait as long as you wanted him to, just for a chance to taste you again.

"Good boy," you moaned, suddenly pulling him up to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. He kissed you like he was starved for it, holding on for dear life.

And you could feel how hard he was—the desperate twitching of his already leaking cock against your thigh—but you weren’t done teasing him yet. "You’re doing so good, Daryl. Go on now."

"Yes, mommy," he whimpered, the word coming out of his mouth before he could even stop it.

"What did you just call me?" You asked in shock and froze.

Daryl’s eyes widened in shock and panic. "Didn’t mean t’ say that," he said, his voice trembling. "I jus’—"

"Say it again," you commanded, cutting him off. "Say it."

He swallowed hard, his eyes looking around as if searching for an escape, but he knew he couldn’t hide from you. "Yes, mommy," he whispered quietly, a shiver running through him as he said the word again.

But you didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to the floor. "Good boy," you simply answered. "Go on…"

He didn’t hesitate, his hands following the curves of your body again, his lips following close behind. He kissed down your neck, in between your breasts, along your stomach as he moved lower, his hands soon enough sliding up your thighs and over your pussy.

"Shit," he mumbled, his eyes widening as he realized just how ready you were for him. "Yer so fuckin’ wet."

He didn’t say anything else, too focused on what he was doing. His fingers moved through your wet folds, teasing you until you were trembling with need, and he circled your clit with his thumb slowly on purpose, watching your face for every little reaction.

And one moan—that was all he needed. He leaned in, his mouth replacing his fingers, his tongue sliding over your clit, licking and sucking it gently all over. He didn’t rush, didn’t hurry, and took his time.

"Fuck, Daryl," you moaned, your fingers gripping his hair, holding him in place as he devoured you. "That’s it… don’t stop."

He didn’t need to be told twice. He kept going, kept licking, sucking, and teasing until you were right on the edge and close to coming.

The control he was giving you made you feel powerful, and hell, if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever experienced.

"Please, mommy," he begged. "Lemme make ya cum now."

"Keep going," you commanded, feeling yourself getting closer due to his words. "Don’t stop. Oh, fuck…"

He obeyed, and when you finally came, you gasped and moaned, your body arching and trembling under the force of it. But as soon as you began to come down from your orgasm, you noticed how he started to get more aggressive, his hands gripping your hips harder. He pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into yours as he moved back up.

"Wanna fuck ya," he growled almost primal, grabbing his cock and pushing it against your pussy.

But you shoved him back. "Not so fast," you said. "You’re going to do it my way."

He looked at you with frustration and desperation. "But… I need ya," he said, his voice cracking a little bit. "Please!"

You didn’t give in. Instead, you watched as he tried to hold himself back. "If you want more, you’re going to have to do it my way, Daryl. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Yeah, ‘kay," he murmured and nodded, his voice trembling.

"Not yet," you said, wrapping your hand around his shaft. The hardness of his cock was pulsing against your hand, and you enjoyed the power it gave you. "You’re going to wait a little longer."

Daryl’s breath hitched, his fingers digging into the mattress as he tried to control himself. "Please," he begged, his voice raw and desperate. "Need it."

You only smiled, slowly stroking him, your movements maddeningly slow. "You want more?" You teased, leaning closer to him. "You want me to keep going? To make you cum already as well?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes! Please, mommy. Can’t take it no more!"

You took your time, each move up and down his shaft, making him moan and writhe.

"Fuck, don’ stop," he groaned. "Please, I can’t—"

"Hush now," you interrupted, squeezing his cock. "You’re going to wait until I say so. If you want to be a good boy, you’ll follow my instructions."

Daryl’s cock was coated in his pre-cum and throbbing in your hand, and every time you squeezed just a little harder, he would shiver, his voice breaking into pleas and whimpers.

"Please… ‘M so close," he whimpered. "Can’t hold back much longer."

You looked down at him, smirking, and then you jerked him faster and harder, bringing him right to the edge. His body was tense and almost painfully trying to hold off his orgasm.

"Daryl," you said softly, your hand driving him mad. "I want you to beg for it. Just a little bit more."

His pleas turned into desperate murmurs as he struggled with himself. "Please… Need t’… Jus’ let me... Oh fuck!"

With a final pump, you brought him right to the very edge again, feeling his cock throbbing against your palm. Then, just when you could see he was about to break, you pulled back, stopping altogether.

Daryl let out a whimper, his eyes desperate. "Fuck, please… Need it."

You leaned in close, kissing his neck. "Not yet. I want you to really feel it, to know how much you need me."

"Please," he begged again. "Please..."

"Tell me how much you need it," you smiled at him.

He swallowed hard, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Need it so bad, mommy, please... Need t’ cum for ya. Need ya..."

You gave him one final, hard stroke, and then you stopped again, making him groan and tremble over you, the muscles in his arms tensing up painfully hard. "Good boy," you whispered, finally giving him permission to slide into your pussy, just not all the way.

"No further," you said. "Just the tip. Hold it back."

He groaned, his hands gripping the sheets next to you on the mattress. "Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Lemme fuck ya..."

You ignored his pleas, your hand still pumping up and down his shaft. "Say it," you commanded. "Say you’re my good boy, Daryl."

"‘M yer good boy," he mumbled, closing his eyes in embarrassment.

Finally, when you could see the look on his face—the way he was practically begging to come—you leaned in. "You want it now?"

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Please, mommy..."

His cock was pulsing, the tip pressing into you just enough to make him groan but not enough to give him what he wanted.

You watched as a sudden tear rolled down his cheek—a single, small, and tiny drop. The sight of it—so rare for someone like Daryl—made you widen your eyes. You could see the complete surrender—the way he was completely at your mercy.

Without warning, you pushed against him, taking him all the way in, and made him cry out, his body shuddering as he filled you up and feeling your pussy stretch around his cock. The look of shock and ecstasy on his face was too much, even for you. His eyes widened, his lips parting slightly, and his cock was pulsing inside you, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Fuck! Fuck…"

And the moment you took him in fully, he came hard inside of you with a loud groan, his body trying to push in as deep as possible as he reached his orgasm, while you held him close, feeling the last of his cum filling you up as he finished.

You soon lay there, your body still tingling, but Daryl, on the other hand, was a mess after he quickly pulled out of you. Now his walls were coming back up, and he was doing his best to act like he didn’t need a damn thing from you.

He was trying to play it cool, turning his face away, still shaking a little bit. "Jus’… gotta go," he mumbled, trying to shove you away. "Don’ need ya all up in m’ shit now."

"Oh, come on. You can’t be serious," you smirked, running a finger teasingly down his chest.

He glared at you, trying to push you away once more. "‘M fine. Jus’ leave me ‘lone," he grumbled.

"Look at you, all tough and cold again. But you were begging for it only a minute ago." You let your hand move over his skin, feeling his muscles twitch. "And now you’re just going to be an ass about it? Not a chance."

He froze as you touched him. "Shut up," he snapped. "Don’t need yer damn pity."

You rolled your eyes, leaning in close. "Pity? This isn’t pity, Daryl."

He tried to pull away again, but you held him close, your hands moving up to his chin. You tilted his head so he had no choice but to look at you.

"Seriously?" You said with a smile. "You’re going to act like a brat now? After everything?" You moved closer, teasing him with a kiss on his lips.

Daryl’s breath stopped for a second, and you felt him shudder under your touch. "Fuck off," he muttered, but it was sounding rather weak, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

You laughed, cupping his chin more firmly. "Make me. Or... maybe you really are just a brat who needs to be put in his place all over again."

He shivered as he fought with himself. "No… Don’ need this," he mumbled, but it was clear he was losing the battle against himself. His voice was getting quieter, and he knew that he was failing miserably.

Then, you finally met his lips with yours. It was a slow, gentle kiss, with you wanting to give him reassurance. He moaned against them, the sound full of desperation.

When you pulled back, you saw how his eyes were wide, and he suddenly nuzzled up against you, his face buried in your neck, his body trembling as if he was trying to hold onto whatever was left of his defenses.

"‘M so sorry," he murmured against your skin, his voice breaking. "Didn’ mean t’... I jus’—"

You ran your fingers through his hair, cuddling him closer as he clung to you. "Quiet," you whispered, putting your lips against his forehead. "It’s okay."

He wrapped his arms around you, his grip a little rough as if he was afraid you might slip away. "I fucked up," he said. "Almos’ got m’self killed an’ hurt ya. ‘M so damn sorry."

You held him close, his body pressed against yours. "I know," you said softly. "But you’re still alive, Daryl."

But the moment of calm was ruined when Daryl’s body tensed up again, with him starting to sob violently.

"Shit," he choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "‘M such a fuckin’ asshole. Messed everythin’ up. Could’ve died an’—"

You shushed him, holding him even tighter, pressing kisses to his temples. You didn’t say much, letting your actions speak louder than any words even could.

He kept mumbling apologies, his sobs so intense that they shook his whole body. "Ain’t good ‘nough. ‘M worthless. Jus’ a useless piece o’ shit," he sobbed further, his voice cracking.

You gently cupped his face again, lifting it so you could look into his wet eyes. Slowly, you wiped the tears away with your thumbs, kissing his cheeks where the tears had been rolling down.

"Hush," you whispered softly. "You’re not a useless piece of shit. You’re not worthless. You made a mistake, but you’re here, and you’re alive. That’s what matters."

He needed to hear that you weren’t disappointed and that you still loved him despite everything.

Daryl looked up at you, his eyes all red and swollen, but his sobbing began to calm down. And as he finally started to relax, his grip on you softened, but he didn’t let go. He was still clinging to you, needing you to remind him that he was loved and that he was enough.

"Thanks," he whispered quietly. "For… everythin’."

You smiled to yourself, playing with his hair. "Anytime," you murmured, pressing another soft kiss to the top of his head.

You didn’t need to say anything more; your arms around him were enough to help him find his way back to feeling okay. The walls he’d built were finally down, and for now, he was just Daryl—raw and in need of someone to help him piece himself back together.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

[thatone-brightstar]

someone i saw in a dream once...| C. Berzatto x fem!reader oneshot

a/n: creds to the lovely @thebearer bc i love her dad!carm blurbs and wanted to try it out myself... loved it btw. happy holidays and happy new year to you all 🎄✨🧸

ps. I was actually gonna call this "a very merry hoe-liday special" lol

WARNINGS: smut, piv unprotected sex, dirty talk, reader is on birth control but isn't mentioned (wrap it up IRL tho), minors DNI but you'll do what you want so don't say I didn't warn you

“Yours?” He asked lazily.

“Uh… no.” A nervous laugh escaped your chest from your space on the warm bed, one of his arms wrapped around you as the other played with your hand above the covers. “I don’t wanna argue about why we haven’t baptized her yet, again.”

“That’s fair.” He responded with a chuckle. 

“Yours?” You asked back.

Carmy shook his head immediately. “Fuck no.” 

“Y’know, she’s gonna ask why we’ve never been to her Grams when she’s older…” 

“And when she’s older. I’ll tell her ‘bout the time her ‘Grams’ ran the car through the living room on Christmas Eve.” He stayed silent for a little longer and you moved your gaze from your intertwined hands to his creased brows. 

As best as you could, you pulled your other arm from under the covers and up to caress the side of his jaw, drawing his eyes back to you.

“I don’t wanna put her through that shit.” 

You nodded and offered a thin smile “No- I know.” then dropped your head back over his warm chest. “We don’t have to do anything. We’ll just stay here, watch somethin’ make breakfast… and maybe see the lights when it’s not so cold out.”

“You think she’ll like that?”

“Oh yeah,” You reassured. “Pjs all day, presents and The Grinch? She’s gonna eat that shit up.” Your words made Carmy chuckle again, the sour memory buried back as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

“I dunno why she likes that movie…” He murmured, adding kiss after kiss around your beaming face. “Fuckin’ green thing’s creepy.”

You laughed and slid your arms around his neck while he dropped slowly over your laying body. “Probably reminds her of you, you grinch.”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m a grinch?” Carmy teased, smiling as he continued to drag his lips along your skin, down the side of your jaw and to the little spot against your neck that drew shaky breaths.

One of his hands pushed against the plush mattress to hold himself up while the other began to rake smoothly up your naked thigh. You nodded in agreement, giggling when the soft curls tickled the side of your cheek.

“Save it for naptime-” You reminded him. “Your kid’s got the best timing-”

Almost like clockwork, three little knocks barely rattled the door and you raised your brows up at Carmy.  ‘Told ya’ you mouth at him then asked teasingly “Who is it?”.

A little giggle made it past the wood, followed by a tiny voice. “Me mamma!” And another three hurried knocks.

“Come in!” You sang back again as Carmy pushed himself off you and you leaned up just in time to hear the door creak and catch the tiny human hurling herself into the unmade bed. “Omf!”

“Merry Christmas!” She shouted with extended arms once she managed to balance herself over the duvet on her knees. 

She threw her tiny arms around both of your necks and pulled you in for a hug as tight as her little strength allowed her. You corresponded the embrace, one arm circling her, while the other hugged Carmy. 

“Oh merry Christmas, pretty girl! Did you go see what Santa brought you?” You asked, pushing back the wild hairs she had inherited from her father. She shook her head no. 

“Aren’t you curious?” Carmy asked and she nodded. “Cause I think I heard a little bell last night…”

That was enough to rattle her excitement even more, a gasp obvious over her flushed cheeks and before you could say anything else, she dragged herself off the bed and onto the floor. 

“C’mon Daddy!” The little girl ordered, taking his hand and dragging him out the room with her. 

Your smile beamed as you waved a teasing goodbye at him, then threw yourself back, stretching your limbs into the bed. 

“Mommy hurry up!” You heard travel through the hallway and sighed out a short laugh.

“Comin’!”

**********

“Vale, baby, not so close to the tv, okay?” You reminded the toddler from your space by the kitchen counter, slicing up fruit for breakfast.

“I don’t get it…” Carmy continued muttering by your side while whisking the batter. 

You sniggered at his tone and shrugged. The theme song to the movie played through the speakers again and you could hear her little voice sing along as the stuffy in her hands danced to the tune. 

“I mean, what even is he?”

“a who…” You answered obviously and he furrowed his brows again.

“a what?”

“No daddy-“ She turned around and pushed herself up on the back of the couch to try and appear bigger, stuffed grinch hanging loosely from one of her hands. “a who!”

You laughed as Carmen nodded jokingly, mouth trapped in an obvious ‘oh’ shape and the sound of your laugh made her giggle even harder, before carefully crawling off the couch and padding her way into the kitchen beside him.

“What’cha making?” She asked curiously, standing on her socked toes beside him but barely reaching the top of the counter with her nose.

“Pancakes. You wanna help?” He asked and she nodded excitedly. 

Carmy turned to you with a small smile while wiping his hands on his rag, then moved down to pick up the awaiting child, who wrapped her tiny legs as much as she could around his torso.

“Alright chef Valentina,” He began, making her giggle and curl up against his side. “ wanna pour the chips in?”

He sat her on the edge by the bowl and handed her the cup filled to the brim with chocolate chips. It took both of her little hands to hold it and with slightly clumsy movements, she poured them in slowly. 

“Atta girl…” He whispered, holding the bowl steady so she could whisk them in, and something about the sweetness in his tone warmed your heart.

You eyed them every few seconds, an ever present smile on your face. It really did warm your heart to see him that way, sweet and nurturing and kind. Carmy was what you always hoped to find in a partner one day, the kind of person you dreamed about but always assumed you’d never have; yet there he was, perfectly present as he helped your daughter flip pancakes for christmas breakfast. 

“Mommy look!” She called towards you, making your smile grow twice as big, if that was even possible.

“I see baby, good job!” You praised too and moved to their side.

She stood on her step stool over the pan, at a careful distance from the fire, while you and Carmy guarded her sides. A kiss was placed on her wild hair as you brushed your hand over her back then laced in into Carmy’s arm, leaning your head on his shoulder. A pleasant feeling of contentment washed over you.

**********

Breakfast took up most of your morning, between batter stains and sticky blueberry maple syrup, it was as if the tiring action of flipping a couple pancakes had worn your daughter out and before her plate was finished, her head had begun tipping into it every few seconds. 

Carmy chuckled as he watched her chew herself to sleep for the third time while he got up to start clearing out the table. 

“I got it.” You whispered, afraid to wake her up, though she was already out like a light against her high chair. “You go put her to bed.”

“Alright little grinch,” He cooed and as soon as he pulled her up from her chair, her limp body draped over his chest. “how does a nap sound?” 

Carmy kept mumbling sweet words and rubbing her back in a soothing manner as he carried her into the room. You would have joined them, but he was always the better one to put her to sleep. Something about him gave her a calming and safe sensation. 

While Carmy took his time in your daughter’s room, you began to tidy up the kitchen. The ending scenes of the grinch passed through and the last songs served as ambience while you worked. You hummed along to the soundtrack, washing the last few dishes, when an arm gingerly circled your waist and the warmth of his chest pressed to your back. 

“Merry Christmas.” He whispered beside your ear, pressing a kiss to your flushed cheek as a beautifully wrapped box appeared in front of you.

You half turned to him with a soft smile pushing up against your cheeks. “Carm, we said no presents…”

“Just open it… you’re gonna love it.” Carmy said with his characteristic shy smile as he took the soapy dish from you and handed you a drying rag.

You dried your palms and took the small box with caution. After undoing the ribbon and slowly pulling off the lid, a beautiful heart locket shone back at you, taking your breath away. With a slow finger you traced the soft ridges and the delicate designs, as if a piece of lace had been dipped in molten gold then shaped into the small work of art

“Oh Bear, it's beautiful…” 

“And you can open it too” He added and unhooked his arm from around your hip to take the box back in his hands. 

Carefully, he picked  it up and pinched the sides open to reveal a tiny photo inside. It was from a few months back, you remembered the day. The Bear had just received its second star and Carmy and Syd had decided to close that day to offer another friends & family dinner. Richie had taken it outside the restaurant just before service. Carmy stood in the middle, with his pristine chef’s whites slightly unbuttoned, Val sat on his shoulders in her best dress and full of glee and you leaned onto his side, left hand cupping his cheek and glowing engagement ring full on display.

You sucked in your bottom lip to avoid the tears threatening to spill out, then turned to him fully and beamed with joy up at him. “You’re right, I love it.” 

His proud smile reached the little creases decorating the sides of his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you with adoration. 

Before he could go any further, Carmy blindly placed the necklace back into its box, then slid his fingers past your jaw, burying them in your hair. The movement of his desperate lips over yours left you breathless and despite not wanting to, you moved your face to the side to inhale a few deep and shaky breaths. He stayed glued to your skin, peppering wet kisses over your cheek, jaw and holding your hair up above your neck to grant him greater access into the area.

His other hand roamed down the side of your curves until it reached your hips, then it slid under the thin fabric of your shirt and up again, where it found your naked chest. His thumb skimmed over the tender skin of your nipple, making your hands tighten their grasp around the nape of his neck and sigh out another breath.

“Is she…” You tried to ask but failed as he continued his soft movements. 

“Asleep? Yeah.” He answered in a deep tone and hungry searched your lips once more.

With each stroke of his thumb and pull on your hair, you could feel him grow harder against your abdomen and the images crossing your mind didn’t help calm the arousal in your gut either.

“Good.” You smiled against his kiss and pulled him in deeper. “Room. Now.”

That’s all it took before he nodded rapidly and began taking quick steps forward, guiding you through the short hallway and into your bedroom, shutting the door lightly. Once at the foot of the bed, Carmy pulled your shirt off in one swift movement and dumped it somewhere on the floor. Now both of his hands held you by your ribcage, both palms massaging your chest and pulling little moans from your joined mouths.

“Fuck- I love you so much.” He groaned, slowly dropping you against the mattress and without daring to detach from your kiss, followed close behind.

Your hands found their own way to his hips, desperately pulling at the hem of his shirt until it was over his head in seconds, disheveling his hair even more. “I love you so much.” You mumbled back. 

Your clothes laid discarded around the room in a few seconds, leaving you buried in between the covers and him. A long sigh parted your chest when you finally felt the sweet relief of his cock inside you, matching his tempo with the strokes of his tongue against yours. Your legs parted even deeper to make space for his thrusts, one thigh wrapped around his hips to accentuate them even harder.

“Fuck- Carm-” You moaned close to his face, trying to be as quiet as you could with him slamming into you.

“Shh, shh- you’re doin’ so good baby-” He praised as he adjusted his weight on his arm and wrapped the other around your thigh, pulling it higher up. “God, you feel so- fuuck”

His movements faltered for a second and he gave a soft breathy laugh that fanned the side of your face, then he placed another kiss over your collar bone and began to slam even faster into you. 

Your soft cries vibrated against his skin and fueled his pace, almost rocking the headboard against the wall. Carmy rested his forehead against yours, looking directly into your eyes as he pulled your other leg up and spaced them both beside your elbows. The new change in position had you feeling him so deep in your core you could almost taste him and the way your eyes started to lose focus plastered a grin across his face.

“You love it when I fuck you like that, huh?” He asked in a breathless tone, but all you could do was nod frantically. “So fuckin’ beautiful…” He mumbled over and over.

Each stroke felt deeper than the last, the only indication of your upcoming orgasm was the brows screwed over your face and the trembling of your thighs. Carmy rocked himself continuously into you until you couldn’t take it anymore. A thousand little lights exploded behind your eyes, making your back arch away from the bed and your nails dig into his sturdy shoulders. Your walls contracted against his thick cock as he pushed in a few more strokes, before his chest shuttered with a contained groan and he let himself fall carefully over your panting chest.

Carmy pushed himself off you with effort and rolled to your side, then hooked his arm under your shoulders and pulled you to rest over his still rapidly beating heart.

“How does a nap sound?” He whispered over your head after a few silent minutes.

You chuckled at his tone but nodded in agreement, tracing little shapes over his chest until his beats took a more relaxed tempo and the breaths fanning over your hair grew longer and heavier.

**********

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne , @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha , @yum-yahgurt , @pussy-f41ry , @kirakombat , @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 , @feyhunter78, @xeneth99 and that's it lmao

[lexsssu]

Treasure (Akira Kurusu | Ren Amamiya)

TAGS: Akira/F!reader, yandere, obsession, praise, breeding, smut, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“Thank you for the curry, Akira-kun. It’s delicious as always and the coffee is perfect…!”

“Nothing less for my favorite patron of course~”

“Oh stop it, you! Using your charms won’t make me order another serving of curry”

“Darn. Guess I’ll just have to try harder next time then~”

“Of course you will. But I hope you know that the reason I keep coming back here is because of the food and not because of some pretty-boy cafe owner…!”

“Mhmm, I know very well that it’s only the food and drinks that keep you coming back. So that means all I have to do is make everything on the menu irresistible so you’d have no choice~”

“....Smart-ass”

Akira chuckled at the adorable pout you sent him, feeling his heartbeat seemingly getting faster as you played along with him. How your innocent little smiles and colorful blushes sent his heart into overdrive, reminding him constantly that the thief had been the one stolen from instead. 

You stole his heart and you didn’t even realize it.

So it was only natural that he would steal yours in return, right?

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

Isn't she an adorable little thing?

So small

So soft

So ripe for the taking

Don't you just want to sink your teeth into her pretty little neck?

Leave your mark on her

You know you want to

She's practically begging for it

All you have to do is take the first step 

You know full well that she wants to be moaning beneath you

She wants to choke on your cock

She wants you to stuff it inside her tight pussy 

Give her all your cum, make sure you fuck it all straight into her womb

Do it. You want it. She wants it. Stop pretending like you're a good man when we both know you're the farthest thing from one.

And none of that matters, because you'll have her anyway.

WE'LL have her.

Whether she wants to be ours or not.

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

“It's too dangerous for you to go home in this weather. Why don’t you stay the night here instead? I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if anything were to happen to you…”

Those were Akira’s words when he dissuaded you from traveling back to your own apartment as the thunderstorm raged outside of Leblanc. 

Yet...how did it turn out like this?

“Aren’t you my precious little treasure? Do you feel how tightly your pretty cunt is gripping my cock? It’s your first time and yet it’s swallowing up everything so happily...I just knew you were made for me~”

Arms wrapped around his strong neck, you hang onto Akira for dear life as he spears his girthy length into your sopping wet core, spreading your lower lips while the veins that pulsed along its length scraping against your previously untouched walls. He had your sinfully thick thighs wrapped around his narrow waist as he bucked up into you, basically carrying the entirety of your weight with his surprisingly strong arms.

For a man who supposedly worked full-time as the proprietor of a little cafe in Tokyo, Akira had both strength and a build beneath his unassuming clothes that clearly stated his physical prowess.

Not that you had any capacity to think about that when the man was flooding your insides with his thick, gooey cum. Your eyes are glazed as you panted, inhaling lungfuls of air as a heady mix of your clear love juice and his pearly essence dripped onto the wooden floors of his bedroom atop the shop.

Aside from the half-hard cock that plugged you up, you clearly felt the heat of his potent cum in your lower belly after the curly-haired male made sure to cum while he was balls-deep inside you. 

“Good girl. That’s my good girl. Taking my cum so eagerly...you’ll treasure my gift to you, won’t you? Because you’re my treasure and I want to leave my mark in you… ”

You should be scared at how things reached this point all of a sudden, but you find that you don’t care.

Not when you’d also long held a torch for the charming barista.

It was only your own insecurities that prevented you from ever saying a word. Why would you when Akira was so handsome, so charming, so smart as compared to your...mediocre self?

“Yours…♥” Smiling dazedly at him, you press a chaste kiss to his soft lips before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as a wave of drowsiness overtakes you.

There’s no need to ask questions. What matters is that he loves you as much as you loved him. So you don’t think about it anymore, simply relishing in the fact that the object of your affections returned your seemingly unrequited love.

“ I’ll protect you. No one will ever take you away from me. Don’t worry, my dear. You’ll be taken care of for life. Now that you’re mine...you’ll be treated like the priceless treasure you are~ ”

Eerie olden orbs glowed in the darkness, sometimes glinting with an unspeakable malice but they mostly shone with tenderness they were seemingly incapable of whenever they were trained on your sleeping figure.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Hi lovely Kat, congrats to 2K followers! 🥳❤️

I would like to request a post-war drabble taking place during Levi's first birthday after the Rumbling. The reader knows about her pregnancy for a couple of weeks but decides to keep it a secret until his birthday. They could have a nice celebratory dinner with the 104th kids, Gabi, Falco and Onyankopon, and the reader decides to break the big news to Levi just after they leave.

thank you rose!! i also accidentally turned this into a oneshot bc i couldn't get myself to decide how i wanted levi to react and ended up word vomiting as a result ksdjfksdjf

World's Grumpiest Dad | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff

The lights were pretty at this time of night.

You began wheeling Levi back from the diner after waving goodbye to some of the 104th, Gabi, Falco, and Onyankopon. They had visited to grab dinner at a nice restaurant in celebration of Levi's birthday, much to his own disdain. Of course he was grumpy the entire night, just from the fact that he wasn't expecting to get all of this attention throughout the day. It was draining—but it was nice to see everyone in a setting that wasn't hauling ass trying to remedy all the damage from the Rumbling.

"Please tell me we're going home," he grumbled.

"Almost," you reassured. "Just going to stop at the dock first. Sunset's pretty."

Levi didn't protest against this change of plans. His evening strolls with you always played an important part in keeping him sane, especially throughout the height of the war.

You reached into your bag as you continued walking Levi forward, eventually pulling out a small box and setting it on Levi's lap.

You could physically see him hesitate, not having expected the sudden object to be handed to him out of nowhere.

"It's your birthday," you reminded, knowing that he was going to have this reluctant reaction. Levi was never a fan of gifts, but this one was important.

"It's going to clutter the house."

"You don't even know what it is yet."

He let out an exasperated sigh, slowly opening the top of the cardboard box. There wasn't any wrapping around the box and there wasn't any filling inside. It was just a plain box with a singular object resting within it: a handmade mug with one of those uneven handles that indicated that you were likely the one that made this at some shoddy pottery studio, which added to its charm.

"What's wrong with the ones we have at home?"

It's not that he didn't like it, he just didn't see the need for an extra mug in your kitchen cabinet.

You groaned as you rolled your eyes.

"Just read it, you asshole."

He pulled the mug out of the box and turned it so that he could see the text that was carefully painted onto it in your handwriting:

"World's Grumpiest Dad"

You couldn't see his face, but you were able to essentially imagine the furrowing of his eyebrows from the confusion that was no doubt running through his mind.

His body posture visibly changed once he realized—he sat a bit further back into his chair, his clenched jaw relaxed, and you even heard a small gasp escape his lips.

"...you're pregnant."

You turned his wheelchair so that he was facing the horizon and took a seat next to him on the nearby bench that you had wheeled him next to. Giving him a small smile, you nodded, eyeing him intensely for how he was going to react to the big news.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Just got confirmation a little while ago, but wanted to save it as a surprise."

You could tell that he was struggling to process. The two of you weren't particularly trying for a kid, but mutually agreed that if it happened, then it happened.

He switched his gaze from your eyes and back down to the mug to reread the text.

"...'m gonna be a dad," he mumbled, although it wasn't clear what emotion was behind it. You couldn't tell if he was happy or not, which was only adding to your nerves.

Levi looked back up at you, his eyes softening once he saw the concern in yours.

Having a kid was never really something he imagined for himself, although this was primarily because he couldn't afford the luxury of imagining the concept of the Titan-free world that you were in. It always provided him and the rest of your comrades the drive to keep fighting, but the idea of settling down in a world that was safe from man-eating Titans—a world in which you could birth and raise a child in peace—never crossed his mind for him.

"You're going to be the world's grumpiest dad," you corrected, trying to lighten the mood in an attempt to dispel your own anxiety in addition to the hesitant look he was wearing.

It worked to some extent, with his eyebrows coming together again into a frown.

"I'm not grumpy."

"Then why are you frowning?" you challenged.

"That's just my face, you brat."

He barely got to finish his sentence before you planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"It's okay," you whispered with a small smile. "I like you grumpy. I'm sure our kid will like it too. It's part of your charm."

You were too close to be able to see the slight hint of color rising to his cheeks at your comment, but you could tell that it affected him as soon as he averted his gaze.

"What is it?" you asked as you tilted your head at him.

Levi immediately cleared his throat and shook his head in an attempt to suppress how flustered he had just gotten over your comment.

"Nothing."

He handed you the mug and began to push himself up from the wheelchair, which immediately got your attention.

"Need to stretch," he grumbled. "Been sitting in that damn thing for hours."

You watched as he walked over to the dock railings, noting that his limp wasn't as noticeable, likely because he hadn't been putting strain on his knee for the past few hours since he's been more or less just sitting throughout dinner and your stroll here. Sighing, you placed the mug back into the box and placed it securely on the bench before walking up next to him.

The wind was blowing through his dark locks, causing it to fall perfectly back onto his head due to his undercut, tempting you to run your fingers through it if you didn't already know that Levi was just going to shoo your hand away.

There was a hint of concern in his one good eye. The frown lines were present despite his expression being soft, and his lips were slightly turned downwards—not enough to be a frown, but noticeable enough that you knew what was on his mind.

"You're going to be a great dad."

Levi's eyes widened as his lips parted in surprise, not expecting you to come in with the reassurance. You were right in that his unease over his own ability to be a good parent was what was bugging him, even though he knew that the anxiety was ultimately unfounded, given his interactions with the kids he had basically helped to raise to some extent—the 104th, Isabel, and even Gabi and Falco.

He placed his hand over your lower belly before looking back up into your eyes, his lip turning up subtly before whispering to you.

"I know."

#: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @emiwhore @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @evas-leslas @deepzombieyouth @lovedbylevi join my taglist! and please lmk if you wanna be taken off

[im-so-normal-iswear]

hello! can you please write oneshot (or headcanons) of yandere!sonic with a reader who tries to escape/hide?? it can be platonic or romantic, you choose :)

A/N: OF DCWJSUHSNW YESS I'LL WRITE A LITTLE BIT OF ONE SHOT AND A LIL BIT OF HEADCANONS, I'm still kinda new to writing fanfics so I'm like super duper sorry if this is bad 😔😔

Tw: kidnapping (taken place before narrative), forced affection, yandere (if any more tws, let me know!!

Yandere!sonic x reader

Romantic...

Did you seriously think you could get away from him?

Small reminder here bud, he's THE fastest.

It's really not hard for him to catch you.

Sonic POV:

There was the sound of keys jingling as the door unlocked and sonic stepped inside, bag in hand, smiling widely as he called out. "Hey babe, I got us some chili dogs!"

...

No answer?

Weird...

But no matter!

He set the bag down on the table as he set out to look for you, calling your name as he looked through the house.

...

Wait did he lock the do- click, creak, kachunk

Of course...

Reader POV:

You breathed in and out quickly running as fast as you could.

Shit shit shit, damn it! Why can't you run faster.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you kept running. Of course you knew sonic was fast, you weren't stupid, so you tried turning corners, tried running to anywhere where you could be concealed.

...

You seemed to be running for some time now no?

It was weird, sonic was way faster than you he surely should have been here by now... But he wasn't. As anxiety set in you ran faster and faster, trying to get as far as you could, to anyone you could.

...

At this point it felt like your legs were about to give out, you shut your eyes trying to think of anything other than the sheer exhaustion you held.

Maybe you could just sit down for a sec-

Suddenly you feel something slam against you, knocking the air out of your lungs. You heaved to get air as arms wrapped around you. Looking up you felt your heart drop as you saw Sonic's eyes stare blankly at yours, still keeping a smile on his face.

"Whatcha doing there?"

"..."

"You do remember I'm the fastest right? I thought you'd remember?"

"..."

"Anyways! Sorry it took so long, had to get caught up in that show we were watching together, you don't mind that I finished it without you right?"

"..."

"Jeez why so quiet? It's like I'm talking to myself at this point! C'mon, let's get home, I could really go for some more chili dogs right now."

He carries you in his arms might just be dragging you if you were still struggling, but you're too tired to do anything at this point. Anyways, when you get home, he places you on the couch, and makes sure to lock the door.

...

...

...

After you finished eating he sat you down.

"Look, I get it, running? Love it! But I'd just prefer you tone it down, when things change we can go out together and run as much as you want, but just.. Not now, y'know? So just don't do that again. Okay?"

He sounds like he's asking but it really isn't a choice for you

He takes most, of not all things as a joke/game, and you running away or hiding isn't an exception

He would in fact purposefully take slower or just waist time before starting to run at all, he's cocky. He's sure that he could reach you quickly, so he doesn't worry about you actually getting anywhere. All he needs to do is just wait until your too tired too even move and then swoop in, it makes it way easier for him to bring you back.

I kinda focused more on running away but I didn't do too much on hiding so I'm gonna do a few head canons in this same post

⬇

⬇

⬇

Who doesn't LOVE hide and seek, plus, you finally playing a game with him? Total win in his book.

Will toy with you, not in a like "oh I'm the best and I use people as my playthings" way but a "lol, imagine trying to hide lmfao 😂😂" way if that makes sense, just feels like him idk

"Where are youuuu?"

While looking for where you could be hiding, he's acting as if he's lost some mundane item.

"Where did I put it.. Hmmmmmm"

Will pull out the scratching his head while looking confused asf combo (Looney toone moment)

If you actually think he can't find you, you're deluding yourself

As soon as you breathe a sigh of relief, any door, or cabinet, to said hiding spot will be flung open, air rushing past. "Found you! :D"

Again, all of this is just a game to him, but he's not stupid. He sees the terror in your eyes, pretending not to notice it as he yaps about how said 'hiding spot' was a good one and how it was fun.

Will get clingy afterwards, regardless if you hid or ran, cuddles, doesn't matter if you don't want them, you're getting them!

Even if you tried running away he wouldn't chain you up, or tie you down, I think he would like the chase tbh, even if realistically he would reach you in a matter of seconds, regardless of how far you were.

A/n: I hope you liked these!!

I wrote these late on a school night, I might be cooked, yall its 12:54 am 😭😭

[solangeloficawards]

solangelo fic awards 2024 - winners!

happy valentines day guys!! <3 wanna thank everyone again for their participation and hype for this year!! just a reminder that this is all for fun, and if you were nominated but didn't win, there's always next year!! :)

and with that, here are our 2024 winners!! <3

nominations post

masterdoc

best angst!

1st place: When I Get Home to You by @2nd2ndalto (14 votes)

2nd place: work and play, they're never okay to mix the way we do by @buoyantsaturn (10 votes)

3rd place: if anybody asks, i'm taken (he is too) by @buoyantsaturn (9 votes)

best au!

1st place: IT'S A SCREAM, BABY! by @rosyredlipstick (25 votes)

2nd place: Doctor Doctor, Give Me the News (I've Got a Bad Case of Loving You) by @buoyantsaturn (6 votes)

3rd place: just an animal, looking for a home by @ikeasharksss (5 votes)

best canon compliant!

1st place: august by CordeliaRose (@cordelia---rose) (34 votes)

2nd place: three-in-one soap by @thelordofshrimp (8 votes)

3rd place: a handful of almosts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord (7 votes)

best fluff!

1st place: And now I have to act like I can't read your mind by @sunflowersandscreams (9 votes)

2nd place: good old-fashioned lover boy by brainrot247 (8 votes)

3rd place: just desserts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord (7 votes)

best oneshot!

1st place: buoyantsaturn by @buoyantsaturn (12 votes)

2nd place: cupid? more like stupid by @thelordofshrimp (11 votes)

3rd place: i love you more than i've ever loved myself by @thebhorror (7 votes)

best wip!

1st place: FAR GALAXIES by @rosyredlipstick (26 votes)

2nd place: kiss with a fist is better than none by @sunflowersandscreams (10 votes)

3rd place: it never took much convincing by penandblankpaper (@kiarrahatesboys) (5 votes)

best misc!

1st place: nico di angelo's autistic swag by @buoyantsaturn (14 votes)

2nd place: "it's so hard to hear over the sound of all the honking clown noses" by @buoyantsaturn (10 votes)

3rd place: up to speed by @solisaureus (8 votes)

best series!

1st place: The Ballad of Ladon Creek by Gates_of_Ember (@gatesofember) (15 votes)

2nd place: travel youtuber nico + some guy he's dating by @ethannku (11 votes)

3rd place: 1987 runaways au by @ikeasharksss (10 votes)

and...... (insert drumroll)

our author of the year for 2024 is @rosyredlipstick with 33 votes!!

runner up is @solisaureus with 12 votes!!

pls let me know if theres any broken links or anything wrong with the post! congratulations to all our winners! and we'll see you all next year <3

[cynarisgayass]

𓍊𓋼~Letting the impulsive thoughts win~𓋼𓍊

Type: Short oneshots

Description: Sorry for lack of posts, 4th of July put a stop on my schedule (which I hate sm) but anyways this is letting the impulsive thoughts win with genshin characters. Like wanting to throw whip cream at someone or boop them idfk.

Rating: Fluff/funny

Reader: GN, slight autism/adhd vibes

Includes: Wanderer/ Xiao

Wanderer:

It was calling to you, begging you, tempting you with it's white soft texture...(Don't be a perv ;)

Whip cream...covering the top of the pie you'd just bought, it smelled amazing and looked even better...but the thought of gently smashing into Wanderers face was literally eating at your being. Plus the counter was clean, you could literally still eat it if you wanted to so it wouldn't really be a waste..."No. No you can't, you can't."

"Can't what?"

You jumped at the sudden voice behind you...when had he walked in? Was he onto you... "Wanderer! Haha, I was just telling myself I can't eat the whole thing in one sitting. That's all, nothing else!"

He looked at you annoyed, like he knew you were up to something but not exactly what it was. "Hmm, I still don't understand how you can eat it. It's disgustingly sweet." He stepped closer to the counter, standing right, over, the pie, scowling at it.

You couldn't take it anymore, fate had laid it out all perfect for you. Your hand slipped under the pie and before he even had the chance to move you smooshed it in his face, whip cream covering all his features, dripping down his chin as you set the mostly empty crust aside.

He couldn't even react, he was so shocked and that was to funny for you, you started laughing hysterically, tears running down your cheeks as you tried to apologise. "I-im so sorry! Hahaha I couldnt- you stepped Infront- I'm sorry! Bahahaha!"

He took a deep breath and sighed, for a second you were worried he was genuinely angry, but he wouldn't be with you if he couldn't handle your impulsive thoughts. He held up the crust and scooped out what was left, "Your actions have consequences..."

You wiped a tear away and looked at him confused, "Huh?-AH!"

He mushed the pie filling on the top of your head, swirling it with your hairs as you squealed in dismay.

Xiao:

You giggled in excitement as Xiao helped you tie up your kite. You'd made it yourself, using all the Yakshas as your inspiration and even better was as you made it he told you stories of them. You could tell it was a little hard for him at first, but once he started talking about the happier stories he loosened up. This one he was telling now seemed to especially resonate with him.

"They were always playing tricks, using ink to draw on my face and introducing me to people, but giving me the wrong name. Bonanus, she was usually far less embarrassing with her pranks...actually you remind me of her in that way."

You blushed lightly, "I do?"

"Yes. She would often try and find ways to make me flustered. Once she even found a inappropriate book and left it for me to read. Even leaving a note on it that read: Alatus, I've found these war tactics very useful. Read at once."

Your smile widened as you imagined him opening the book, "I bet you were completely red in the face haha!"

"I was. It made it even worse that Morax- Zhongli I mean, was there when I started to read it."

"Pffft!" You burst out laughing, unable to contain yourself as you pictured the scene with Zhongli being in the same room. Then it was like a switch went off...and you felt kinda numb, maybe sad even...wishing you could have been there. "Xiao, do you prefer that part of your life..."

He paused and looked at you in confusion, "I don't prefer one part of my life over the other. I may miss my Yaksha companions, but if I were to choose that part of my life over this one, I would no longer have you. That would be just as much of a loss if not more."

Your heart skipped a beat as the moment grew more intense, his eyes staring into yours like he was attempting to prove to you that his words were true. It was a bit much and you weren't really good with tension...so you chose to lighten the mood with the very thing you'd wanted to do since he started talking.

You reached out and poked his nose, saying a small little, "Boop" as you did so. It was so random and yet it fixed the heavy air that had gathered around you both. His face turned a light shade of pink and he returned back to what he was doing, as if nothing had happened at all.

"Xiao?"

"Hm?"

"Is it don't yeeeettt???"

Another dirty alphabet up nexttt~

[atypicalamortentia]

it's akready 1am and I've been re-reading all your written works are so chefkiss, wish you can write a spicy Gareth oneshot though, rereading your headcannons made me just so AHHHHHH😩

Shouldn't || Garreth Weasley

Synopsis - You meet up with Garreth in Hogsmeade after promising yourself you wouldn't...

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Characters are aged 18+!

Word Count - 2.9k.

{Caffeinate Me} || {TikTok}

Your relationship with Sebastian Sallow started five years ago: five long, yet blissful years. You were engaged to him, living together and overall extremely happy with your relationship.

Since leaving Hogwarts, after everything that had happened, you had developed some issues with your mental health - everything seemed like a chore to you and your mood was constantly up and down. Sebastian was nothing if not supportive, always reassuring you that everything was okay and that he was there for you through thick and thin: he wouldn’t have put that ring on your finger otherwise. So why was it, when Garreth Weasley got in contact with you again after all these years, did you find yourself suddenly unhappy in your relationship? Garreth was all you could think about and you found yourself talking to him constantly, even when Sebastian was sitting next to you. It was definitely getting out of control. 

“Garreth, we shouldn’t meet,” you had said to him over the phone. 

“Why?” Came his voice, angelic like. 

“Because I don’t trust myself,” you replied honestly. Your response had taken Garreth back, but he had agreed. He didn’t necessarily trust himself either. 

Garreth had always had a crush on you, even when you were at school. He knew he should leave you alone, being engaged to Sebastian and all, but he couldn’t help himself. When you texted him first thing in the morning, it made his heart swell. When you updated him on your day, it made him smile. And when you texted him goodnight, he yearned for you. He simply couldn’t get enough. He spent so many lonely nights with his cock in his hand, jerking himself off to photo’s of you on social media and listening to voice notes you had sent of you just explaining how you felt. He had it bad for you, and he knew it. Equally you were no better. Fingering your tight cunt to his voice notes back to you, his soothing voice like music to your ears as you came undone. Sebastian just wasn’t cutting it for you anymore and you felt so guilty. 

Despite agreeing that you wouldn’t meet up together, you found yourself stood in Hogsmeade playing with your fingers nervously as you waited for Garreth. Your engagement ring on your finger, a reminder of what you were betraying by indulging in your fantasies. “Y/N?” His voice came, pulling you out of your guilt-filled trance. 

“Garreth!” You forced a smile and immediately wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in his chest and inhaling his scent. 

“You okay darling?” He asked, the pet name rolling from his tongue was as sweet as honey. You nodded, looking up at him, that same forced smile on your face. Garreth kissed the top of your head, forcing a blush to rise to your cheeks. “How are you really?” Garreth asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He knew you had been struggling lately and wanted to make sure you were doing okay. 

“I’m okay,” you said softly as you returned to playing with your ring. There was something about him that had butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. “How are you?” You asked back. 

“I’m good now that you’re here,” he grinned down at you, watching intently as you bit your bottom lip nervously. 

“What should we do?” You asked as you looked around at the shops in Hogsmeade. There were so many things you could do together, but your mind was on one thing and one thing only. Being this close to him was intoxicating, especially after all the back and forth flirting you had been doing over the phone.  

“We could go to The Three Broomsticks. Grab a drink?” Garreth suggested. 

“That sounds like a good idea,” you nodded as you began to walk in the direction of the pub. 

You felt Garreth grasp your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as you walked. You immediately felt your heart skip a beat upon the contact and your palms began to get slightly sweaty, but Garreth didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he just held your hand tighter as you walked to The Three Broomsticks. When you entered you found a spot in the corner, somewhere you couldn’t be seen unless someone was really looking for you. Even though you were simply just ‘meeting a friend’ your intentions felt seedy, especially since the wetness between your legs continued to grow at Garreth’s touch. “So,” Garreth smiled as you sat down in the booth. “What shall we have? Firewhiskey?” 

“That sounds delightful,” you smiled. 

Garreth walked away and went to the bar to order your drinks. Within moments he was back holding two glasses of firewhiskey. “Here you go beautiful,” he said, sliding the glass to you with a wink. You couldn’t help but blush as you immediately sipped on the fiery liquid. It burnt down your throat and you pulled a funny face that had Garreth smirking at you. “Burning?” 

“Yeah,” you replied, sticking your tongue out in disgust. 

“That’s the best part,” he smiled, taking a sip of his own drink. “Have you never had a firewhiskey before?” 

“Only once back at Hogwarts with Sebastian,” you replied honestly. Garreth rolled his eyes at the mention of your fiance, jealousy bubbling slightly in his gut. The fact you chose to marry Sallow over anyone else really grinded his gears. “Have you?” 

“Oh all the time,” Garreth responded. “It’s one of my favourites to drink on a night out in Hogsmeade.” 

“Really?” You asked, taking another sip. 

“Yeah,” Garreth replied. He continued drinking until there was nothing left in his glass, placing it down rather loudly on the table. “Oops, sorry!” He said, laughing slightly. 

“How on earth did you drink that so fast?” 

“Practice,” Garreth grinned. You rolled your eyes and placed your half empty cup down onto the table next to Garreth’s empty one. You both decided to chat about your time at Hogwarts, laughing and joking at some of his failed attempts to impress during potions class. It was always the way with him: experiment after experiment. 

You were now three glasses of firewhiskey in and your vision was starting to go blurry. “I didn’t think you’d want to meet with me,” you slurred.

Garreth grasped your thigh under the table and gave it a slight squeeze. “Why not?” He asked, leaning in towards you. 

“Well you said you wouldn't trust yourself if you met up with me,” you whispered, eyes drifting down to his lips. 

“So did you,” he pointed out. 

“Trust yourself with what, exactly?”

“I don’t trust myself to not fuck your brains out,” his voice came out like a whisper in your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Arousal grew in your stomach at his words and you knew in that moment there was no coming back from this. 

“Oh really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. You knew you shouldn’t start something, but you couldn’t help it. 

“Yeah. Really,” Garreth’s voice was still a breathy whisper against your earlobe: something that drove you mad. His hand on your thigh tightened its grip and his thumb gently stroked your exposed skin. Of course you chose today of all day’s to wear the new skirt you had bought. “Do you want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you?” He asked. You couldn’t respond with words, not trusting them to come out in a calm and cool manner, so instead you just nodded your head. Garreth let out a slight chuckle as he moved his face even closer to yours, lips skimming your cheek. Your heart was beating a million miles an hour at this point and despite the alcohol that had clouded your senses, you could clearly see where this was going to end up. “Kiss me,” he begged, his lips chasing yours within an instant. You closed the gap completely, pressing your lips against his firmly. Butterflies continued to explode in your stomach as Garreth’s tongue licked your bottom lip, clearly wanting entrance into your mouth. You opened your mouth slightly, giving the ginger-haired male exactly what he wanted. A groan of approval left his lips the second his tongue brushed against yours. The kiss was passionate, dominant, something you hadn’t realised you had needed in a long time. 

When you pulled away, you looked at Garreth through your lashes, blinking rapidly at him. You were most certainly swept away by the kiss. “Do you want to leave?” You asked seductively. Garreth just nodded his head, removing his hand from your thigh and standing up. Like the true gentleman he was, he offered you his hand to take once he had stepped out of the booth before dragging you outside The Three Broomsticks. 

“Where do you wanna go?” Garreth asked, looking you up and down while biting his lip. 

“Anywhere,” you replied breathlessly. Sebastian wasn’t home today, he was working, providing for the small family you had together, but you didn’t think you’d be able to make it back to your house before you passed out from the sheer amount of arousal you were feeling. “How about down there?” You asked, pointing to a secluded alley. 

Garreth led you down the secluded alleyway, immediately pushing you against the wall when you were out of earshot, and sight, of the others in Hogsmeade. His lips attached against yours so rapidly that you let out a little squeak of surprise before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. It felt so wrong and yet so right at the same time. The pair of you wasted no time: Garreth had bunched your skirt up to your waist, pushing your underwear to the sides of your puffy, soaking folds while you unbuckled his trousers, feeling the strain of his erection through his boxers. He was hard, oh so painfully hard. “Merlin, I want to taste you,” Garreth whimpered, dropping to his knees and forcing one of your legs over his shoulders so he could get at the perfect angle. The one leg holding you up buckled the second his tongue came into contact with your slit, hands flying to his hair almost immediately in a futile attempt to stop his ruthless assault. 

“We - ah - we don’t have time for this!” You pouted, watching as his tongue darted into your tight hole and out again, returning to your clit. You were embarrassed to admit you were almost close to cumming. 

“Just a few more seconds,” came Garreth’s muffled voice as he slurped at your sensitive nub. “You taste so good.” 

“You really think so?” You asked, one of your hands covering your blushing face. Garreth just nodded, licking you with as much fever as he could. The way he was going at it just did something to you: no one had ever eaten you out like this before. Garreth prodded a finger at your entrance, teasing you before pushing it in slowly, his lips still attached to your clit. “Oh Merlin!” You cried out, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sounds escaping your lips. 

“Cumming already?” Garreth teased as he pulled away from you for a split second, allowing your juices to squirt from you like they never had before. Your legs shook violently, back arching against the wall in an attempt to keep yourself upright as your orgasm washed over you. Shamelessly, Garreth opened his mouth, catching as much of your squirt in his mouth as he could as he pumped his finger in and out of you, clearly pushing you over the edge. You were overstimulated for sure. When you had stopped squirting, Garreth placed a chaste kiss to your now throbbing clit and looked up at you. “Are you ready for me baby girl?” 

“Yes, oh please,” you begged, voice babbling. Your brain was fuzzy. 

Garreth unhooked your leg from his shoulder and stood up, grasping your hips and turning you around to face the wall. You stuck your arse out as much as you could as your companion pulled his aching cock out of his boxers. He spread your cheeks, admiring the way you clenched around nothing as you anticipated his cock. You were practically shaking. Garreth grabbed the base of his cock and gave it a few experimental pumps before lining himself up with your entrance and slowly inserting himself inside of you. The pain of the stretch felt too good and a wanton moan left your lips. Garreth’s hand quickly placed itself over your mouth to cover up the noise, not wanting to gain any attention from the passersby. He took a second before beginning to move, his hips slowly snapping against yours. Not even Garreth could help the moan that fell from his lips. You felt better than he’d ever imagined. You were so tight and warm and wet, and were sucking him inside of your body. 

“More,” your voice croaked at him. 

“More?” He asked teasingly. You nodded your head as Garreth continued to thrust against you harder, hitting that sweet spot inside of you already. All thoughts of your fiance were out of your mind, there was no guilt at the current moment and it felt good. You grasped the wall tightly, nails dragging down the stone as Garreth’s hand fell from your mouth to your hips, angling you in a way that had his cock pressing deeper inside of you. You wanted to yelp, but you couldn’t. You bit your lip, hard, and squeezed your eyes shut as his movements sped up. His cock was huge, definitely not what you had imagined from the somewhat nerdy potions boy from school. His cockhead kissed your cervix as he continued to pound against you, lips tracing your exposed neck as he breathed heavily. “Fuck Y/N, you feel so good.” You wanted to say that he felt good too, but all that came out of your mouth was a string of “fuck”’s and “shit”’s. Tears welled up in your eyes as his pace became more and more ruthless, all that desperation and wanting had left him so pent up the last few weeks that all he could think about was cumming inside of your sweet cunt. A hand fell from your hips to strum your clit once again, pushing you to the brink of a second orgasm. Garreth could tell from the way your walls were clenching around him. “It’s okay baby girl, let it go,” he cooed against your neck. 

Almost on command you did. Your second orgasm washed over you. Your head slumped against the cool brick of the wall as you bit your lip once again to stop yourself from screaming. This time, your entire body shook, pleasure shooting up your form as you came. It was an experience like you had never had before, but the guilt hadn’t set in yet. “Fuck, Garreth!” You whimpered pathetically, hand slapping at the wall in front of you. 

“I’m gonna cum now baby girl, okay?” Garreth asked. You nodded in response, feeling the force of his thrusts become more brutal by the second as he reached his own release. “Shit. Fuck. Shit!” Garreth called out, his cock twitching ruthlessly inside you as thick ropes of cum spurted deep into your womb. As his hips stilled against yours, your mind began to process everything that had happened. You felt his hot mixture inside of you, something you hadn’t felt in years. Sebastian was always insistent on wearing protection to prevent pregnancy, but Garreth didn’t seem to mind the possibility. Either that, or he just didn’t care. He pulled out of you slowly, the cool air against his now softening cock made his entire body shiver. Within seconds he was fully zipped up and pulling your underwear back over your cunt, and your skirt back down over your arse. He turned you back around to face him, pulling you close against his body and kissing the top of your head. “I love you,” he mumbled. 

Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. “You… Love me?” You asked, slightly confused. 

“Yes, fuck yes I do. I love you,” Garreth chuckled. He pressed another kiss to the top of your head and smiled. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

“I don’t wanna go home yet,” you whispered, nuzzling into his chest. 

“Then why don’t you come to my home?” Garreth offered. Again, you looked up at him in surprise. 

“Really?” You asked. 

“Yeah! My parents are gone for a few days, why don’t you come round for an hour?” He suggested. 

You looked at the time and nodded, knowing Sebastian wasn’t going to be home for a few more hours. You took Garreth up on the offer. You used Floo Flames to travel to his home and quickly nestled yourself in his bed. The warmth of the covers soothing you as the guilt began to eat at your gut. You practically made your bed, and now you had to face the consequences. But you were stuck with what you were going to do. You loved two men, how was that even possible? You sighed as Garreth lay down next to you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling you close yet again. He stroked your hair until you finally fell asleep, dreaming of your adulterous escapade. You’d figure out what to do later, but for now, you just wanted to be in Garreth’s arms.      

[modelbus]

I’m obsessed with the way u write Tommy, the witty dialogue is so >>>> lately I’ve been fixated on the drunk MCC video so if you’d like to write a oneshot based on that it would be super appreciated! Reader probably takes beky’s spot so they’re on the same team, and the more drunk they get the more affectionate and distracted they get and the chat is just eating it up teehee

I actually had to hunt down the video because I haven’t seen it… for anyone curious the video is called “Minecraft But I’m Drunk”!

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Gn!Reader

Flirting Fools

“IM JUST KEN, WHEN I SEE LOVE I SEE YOUR BALLS—“

The cider you were drinking—same one that Tommy had stocked up on—ends up on your monitor rather than down your throat. Whose idea was it to do a drunk MCC again? Oh, yeah, Tommy fucking Innit.

“Why can’t you say hello like a normal person?” You sigh, wondering if Tommy even has his headphones on.

“Y’know, I want to watch the woman movie but my girlfriend insists I see it with her and I haven’t had the chance.” Jack says, speaking up.

“Oh, Jack, you have a girlfriend?” Tommy asks.

“Acting like you aren’t dating someone too.” You say pointedly, giving a deadpan look to your camera.

“Because you’re amazing! The El-Oh-Em-El! Love of my life!”

“Never spell an acronym out loud again.” You plead.

“What’s an acronym?”

Tubbo’s laugh in the background seems more like a cry of help.

-

“We’re dropping like Fortnite!” Jack exclaims just as the floor vanishes from under you and everyone is out into elytra mode.

“Shit wait we’re playing Fortnite? We playing Fortnite?” Tommy immediately hops on the joke, and you mentally tune him out.

“I love Fortnite!” Jack agrees eagerly. Twenty seconds later, he dies. “I fucking hate Fortnite!”

“I died too.” You inform him, picking up the can of alcoholic cider to take a drink.

“WAIT!” Tommy screeches. “Cheers! Cheers with me!”

You raise your drink to your camera, assuming Tommy is doing the same in his office. Afterward, Tommy slurps his drink far too close to his mic.

“I’m gonna vomit.” Tubbo declares.

“Don’t back down and give up, that’s some shit Kenergy.”

-

“Guys, I just bought myself a pack of ‘Colon the Caterpillar’ and if we win MCC I’ll open them.” Tommy’s voice announces during the loading between games. Do you know what that means? No. Do you want some? Fuck yes.

“Share. Share? Share?” You ask, taking another sip of your drink.

“Come over babygirl.” Tommy answers you. For a second, there’s a complete pause in the call. “…I’m going to kill myself.”

“What the FUCK?” Jack shouts.

“Tom, Tom— never say that again.” Tubbo pleads, are you’re inclined to agree.

“Maybe just… keep your mouth shut.” You advise Tommy.

-

“Oh, Jesus, it’s harder to stream when the— when.” Tommy says, quite eloquently.

“Ah, yes, I when the when all the time with you.” You agree.

“We are when the when-ers.”

“Can you two shut up?” Jack asks.

-

You grit your teeth, groaning when a player kills you, picking up your drink again. Slowly but surely, you’re getting drunker and drunker. So much for not having a hangover tomorrow.

“We’ve literally gotta get this dub guys or I don’t get my sweets.” Tommy reminds everyone. “Why is talking like fuckin’ on extreme difficulty?”

“Is it?” You ask idly, taking another drink just for fun.

“Worse than when I’m kissin’ you and shit.” He confirms.

“Stop making Tubbo and I the third wheel.” Jack pleads.

You grin, laughing. “Nah.”

-

“Listen to me now! Look me in the eyes!” Tubbo says, his character moving to stand directly in front of Tommy’s. “You’re my best friend okay and we’ll get you through this.”

“Tom, Tommy, Toms, listen to me.” You giggle, moving to stand next to Tubbo. “You are my boyfriend. And I will not get you through this.”

“Okay, fuck, well I gotta listen to you. Sorry Tubbo.”

“Oh.”

-

“I’m gonna get the coins in the middle!” After his declaration, Tommy sprints to the middle platform and starts mining away at the yellow coin block.

“Jesus fuck, At least wait!” You sigh, shooting a random person.

“Wha— how are you getting them?” Jack agains, laughing wildly. “How is that working?”

“Cause I’ve got backup! My backup’s the best!” Tommy responds, turning in circles.

“You know I’ve always got your back.” You answer.

“Cause you’re cool like that. You got the moves like Jagger.”

“That I do, Tom Simons. That I do.”

-

“Y’know what? It makes me quiet.” Tommy gives no context, leaving you on your own to puzzle out that he’s talking about being drunk.

“Huh? We literally got plastered that one time and you wouldn’t shut up.” You disagree.

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it was you.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Means I like talking to you, bitch.”

“And you don’t like talking to me?” Jack asks. “Oh, yeah, I see how it is.”

“I got priorities man!” Tommy defends himself.

“Priorities being…?” You question, giggling.

“You.”

-

“I’ve got to say, I think there’s a huge lack of focus on the team.” Jack says, coughing pointedly.

“I think I’ve got to agree with you Jack.” Tubbo hums.

“Yeah, and it ain’t us Tubbo.”

“The fuck you saying about me and my boyfriend?” You ask, splash potion of harming in your hand. “You wanna fucking repeat that?”

“No no no no— you guys are great! Teen love— TUBBO RUN—“

-

“Tommyinnit meet and greet on the rocks outside the pier in Brighton at 1am?” Tommy asks. “Any muggers don’t go there though.”

“I’ll go with. Mug both of us.” You offer.

“Yeah, we team that shit. Power of love right there.”

“Love lets people get mugged together?” Jack laughs.

“Not all love Jack.” Tommy corrects.

“Just ours.” You agree with Tommy. “Our love is special, Jack.”

“Oh, it’s certainly something.”

-

Sands of Time has you immediately frowning at the screen and taking another drink. It’s such a shit game, it deserves to be drank to.

“I went to the bathroom guys and I was just like oh by the way…”

There’s a second where you, Tubbo, and Jack wait for Tommy to finish his sentence. He doesn’t.

“‘Oh by the way’ what?” Jack finally asks.

“Oh— oh, I just stopped.” Tommy laughs. Cackles, more like.

“Oh by the way I’m coming over to your place after?” You ask him.

“Really? We can watch that new movie you’ve been wanting to see, if you want.” He doesn’t even blink at the subject change.

“Works for me. Might be a bit before I sober enough to not get murdered in the streets though.”

“I’ll just come get you, love.”

“You’re drunker than me.”

“I’ll scare everyone off with my many muscles.”

“Do you even have one?” Tubbo asks. “One muscle?”

“Many manly muscles.” Tommy doubles-down.

“I’ll just walk.” You sigh.

-

“Guys stop calling me ‘daddy Tommy’ I’m clearly a twink.”

“Tom?” You ask.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up, please.”

“Whatever you say!”

-

<Tommyinnit> Tubbo kisses his cousins

“I do not!” Tubbo exclaims, outrage painting his voice.

“I’ve seen Tubbo bare-lipsing his cousins.” Jack argues immediately.

“Have you?” You ask Jack.

“I’d kiss you even if you were my cousin.” Tommy says to you. “That’s how much I love you.”

“You’d what?”

“No, cause it’s my love.”

“Tom, man, I think it’s time for you to be done.” Jack says wisely.

“Well, no, cause what’s wrong with what I said?”

“So many things. So so many things.”

-

When you blink your eyes open the next morning, everything is hazy and painful. A throbbing headache makes you immediately close your eyes against the bright sunlight of morning, only for you to try again a few moments later.

There's a weight thrown across your middle; upon further inspection, it's Tommy's arm. Heavy and warm, and also keeping you trapped next to him.

"Tom." You groan, knowing that you need some water and Aspirin. He probably does too, considering he definitely drank more than you. "Tom, please."

He mumbles something, barely relenting his grip on you. It's just enough so that you can stretch across the bed to grab your phone from the charger. There's a few messages from friends checking up on you and Tommy (including a shit ton from Wilbur that you're just going to... ignore...) but you swipe open social media.

Only to immediately close it when you realize that you and Tommy are trending for what happened during MCC last night. Although it could very well also have been from the photo Tommy posted of you two kissing, to be fair.

"Stop moving." Tommy groans, pressing his face into your shoulder.

"We need Aspirin and water." You tell him. "And we're trending on Twitter."

"No." His hold on you tightens. "Five more minutes."

You know damn well five minutes will be ten, then thirty, then two hours, but you relent either way.

"Five more minutes."

[herzzgeist]

hi, could you write about law where his gf is just a clumsy mess. And she just hit her head on a open drawer, pretty hard. And know she is embaressed to go to him and ask for a ice pack. So she try to steal it unnoticed from his room. But of course she got caught.

And now she just try to played down, but it hurts like hell. He just care for her lil wound and something fluffy down the road. Maybe she remind him of cora. Ahhhh sorry for the spam

Pairing: Law x Clumsy fem!reader | Word count: 1.4k | Warnings: none

Synopsis: Oh look, another bruise. Didn't notice this one, silly me! Law can't stand the way you hold yourself - without care. Everytime he hears a faint 'Shit' or 'Ow' in the distance, he immediately considers it to be you, hurting yourself unintentioally again. What a drag. And yet another day, he finds you in attempt to smuggle something from the infirmary, observing you how you disfigure the drug storage. He actually has to speak up, until you finally realise you're not alone. "Law, it's nothing." - "Nothing can't turn red and blue and starts to swell like that (Y/n)-ya! Now hold still!"

A/N: Anon, I LOVE spam! The more details the better :3 - Here we have a fluffy OneShot! Thank you for your request, I must say I adore the clumsy reader trope ఌ (erm, since I walk on two left feet myself)

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

What a night, you think to yourself, as you stretch and writhe underneath your warm and comfy sheets. The cold hits you like you're being thrown into a pool of ice water, as you lift the shield of comfort, goosebumps prickling along your skin. Yawning in a still jaded state, you crumble off the mattress and of course hit your toe on the cabinet's leg. As you do every morning.

In pain you yowl a distressed little curse, hopping in place. It's straining you beyond belief, praying for some sort of miracle to rid you of those cursed two left feet. If not for the better, you should wear bubble wrapper clothes, this way you won't hurt yourself non stop at least. However, it is, dare say, not the most attractive fashion option.

In addition, you are practically obliged to see the doctor, who you happen to be in a relationship with, verily frequent. Naturally, whenever you arrive at the kitchen or common room within the Polar Tang, it is of your highest priority to avoid Trafalgar's death gaze, before he opts to drag you to the infirmary with those, as you may call them 'little' aches and pains you always put on yourself. Until now, they were ever so often not to be taken lightly and Law patched you up in no time. Shame fills you, embarassed that you're, simply explained, a klutz.

You enjoy it no less, the attention your aloof lover gives you and the petty and sarcastic comments he throws at you. Him being close to you. His warm hands cleaning any cuts and bruises and his voice stern yet reassuring calms you, no doubt. With that in mind, you can't help but notice your heart beating faster to the pictures replaying in your mind. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head wildly, in hopes to quickly forget what's caught up in your day dreams about a certain white hatted man.

Today is your turn in kitchen duty and you decide to prepare breakfast earlier than usual, for you have something special in mind to serve this fine morning. Looking through the storage, no drawer or door is left unopened and you search for the needed ingredients.

As you lean down to seek out the lower cupboards, your skill to dodge the edge of an open drawer abandons you. Close to your temple, you feel how heat shoots up that area, making you dizzy. Fingertips trace along your head, where the imprint has been knocked into. Everything threatens to grow black before you.

„Oh, please no. Not again.", you murmur in desperation, legs beginning to weaken and nausea builds up from your core. That was quite the hit. Sitting down on the cold tile floor, you hide your face in your shaky palms. In panic, you come to the conclusion, that you must reach the infirmary, fast. All without getting caught by your overly attentive boyfriend, seems close to impossible to you. "Ice pack . .", is what you groan and you are set on your destination.

On wobbly legs, you close the door behind you and follow the corridor, down to the infirmary. Paranoia creeps over your spine, eyes scanning every dark and shallow corner. Before you enter the room, you peek over your shoulder to make sure you aren't followed: „Good, coast is clear.", the metal creaks and you step over the doorframe.

In all nervosity you begin to mumble and rummage through the drug storage: "Where is this god damn thing. I remember him putting it-" - "A little to the left, sweetheart." Jumpscared by the deep rumble behind you, you turn in a quick spin and stand in your Captain's shadow. With all your might, you gift him your most hearty and lovable smile, greeting him: "Law?! Why hello my love I-"

Instantly closing the locker doors behind your back, you giggle exaggeratedly, trying to play it cool, avoiding the icy steel glare, coming from the doctor. He orders: „Show me." Almost too quick you retort his command with an overacted pout of your lips, questioning his indication. Closer and closer the heavy steps come your way, stopping before you. Law reaches for your head and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing the unmistaken bump.

An exasperated groan reverbs from his chest and he points at the examination table. "Now.", he commands and without a squeak, you obey. There you are again, seated on the cold metal plate. „Tell me what happend.", he utters, while washing his hands and putting on rubber gloves. There is no way you can escape his room anymore, unironically speaking.

Thus you twirl your thumbs in abashment, explaining: „I hit my head on a drawer in the kitchen about five minutes ago. I swear it's nothing, just a little bruis-" - „(Y/n)-ya, a little bruise doesn't turn red and blue and begins to swell at such an alarming rate. Now hold still." Ever so slowly, he approaches you, his grey orbs fixated on the injury. Inked and slender digits glide through your hair to get a better concept. Involuntarily, a hiss shoots through your teeth, as he palpates your scalp around the bump. Pins and needles trickling over your skin wherever he touches.

„Any dizziness, nausea or general weakness?" - „All three yes . . and think I was on the verge of passing out too.", by hearing your statement, which you formulate such a situation so nonchalanty is beyond Law's comprehesion. Oh how infuriated he is. Not hesitating once, he grabs the cleaning tools, anticeptics and cooling salves to get to work, patching you up again. It's become an everyday life chore for your dear Captain. Though he detests how imprudent and careless you are, he cannot deny how utterly adorable you appear at times, puppy eyes attempting to white wash every scratch on your body, not wanting to disturb him by all means. It is something he learned to love about you.

Yet somehow you remind him of someone. Somebody he used to care about alot when he was just a boy. Could it be? Why of course, Corazon. Well, at least you didn't burst into flames, like he did. Fortunately, you're not prone to smoke, to Law's approval. However, all the other stunts you deliver, are rather similar to Rosinante's, one could think you are related to one another. A smile tugs on the Captain's lips, as he finishes the treatment.

„What are you so happy about, darling?", you hum sweetly, earning a disgruntled click of his tongue, telling you it's nothing. You show your gratitude with a kiss to his cheek. It managed to elict a skip of his heart and he furrows his brows subsequently, hiding the red tint on his face under the brim of his hat.

Seeing him tidy up the infirmary, you make it your task to help him clean up after that little ‚operation'. „You should get some rest. Drink lots of water and take pain killers if needed. And for the love of god, please tell me, if any symptomps get worse, understood?", he growls through a tensed up jaw. You playfully nudge his side and chuckle softly: „I think I learned my lesson today. I'm grateful. Really appreciate your kindness and patience with me."

Kindness? Who on earth would call a powerhouse, a man as known as ‚the Surgeon of Death', kind? Only shaking his head and scoffing to your heartstring pulling remark, he huffs: „You're a curious one, (Y/n)" Side by side, you stand next to eachother, cleaning up the tool station. Through the corner of your eye, you notice his fleeting gaze upon you. Hence you return it, facing him with a querying expression.

An unexpected pinch on your cheek takes you aback, a small ‚Ouch' escaping you: „Oi, what was that for?" Law's thumb and index finger linger on the round of your face, not moving away, muttering lowly: „This is for being a fool, the clumsy mess that you are" removing his fingers from you, he gently places his palm back on the spot where he pinched you a moment ago „and this is for your troubles, my clumsy mess that you are."

Slowly he leans down to your level and lets his lips enlighten yours with the love he harbors for you, his blundering woman.

And as if nothing happend, the throbbing pain in your head disperses into thin air.

[fanaticmorelikefantastic]

Welcome Home : Hobie x fem!reader

This is my first fic for @the-kr8tor 's Octobie event! I'm really super excited and I hope you like it :D

Synopsis: Everything sucks and then you get cat distribution systemed to Hobie.

Tags: Hobie/reader, Hobie/fem!reader, Reader is from another country, I just assumed she was american, American reader, Supposed to be in the 70's?, Just pretend it's an au if anything sounds funny about it, Hurt/comfort, wee bit of angst, crying in the rain, etc.

Note: I tried my best to write it as a hurt comfort, but I'm not sure if it turned out that way. First snippet of a series of oneshots about an American immigrant reader and Hobie! das it :)

It was a dark, but not very stormy night. London, always a gloomy one, this city was. Not that I’m any better. Through a series of events, I found myself in this here alleyway, looking for answers. Riddle me this; how does one find a man, who is a spider, who is a man? You call me, that’s how. The dame came into my office, just wanted to know who her saviour was, she said. Told me she would hand over a handsome sum of cash if I could find him. Money makes the world go round, after all. Course I agreed, I was tight-strapped this month and something had to pay that rent.

The first step to knowing about the wanted is to know about the wanter. In this case, that would be me. In reality, there was no damsel bursting into a private eye’s office, there wasn’t even a large wad of cash. Just a girl, a masked hero, and a handwritten thank-you note. 

London was nowhere near the pearly and refined city it was advertised to be, especially not in this soot stained, half muddied alleyway. As for why I was found in said alleyway, several days ago, I had gotten into some trouble with some sort of crooked cop, but before anything extraordinarily unsavory could happen, I was saved in one fell swoop by a man in some strange costume. I believe that living out of hotels was taking a toll on my mental state, and living at all was taking a toll on my wallet. So, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to find who he was and thank him. A simple thank-you, that’s all, and maybe I would ask him if he was hiring.

My search took me from one end of the city to another, and eventually into this alleyway. They called him ‘Spider-Man’ or ‘Spider-Punk.’ Strange names, but I’m not too sure what I expected of a man who runs around dressed like such. At some point in my thread of conversations and inquiries, I was led to Camden, then to this very alley. Supposedly, he shows up here often, but apparently not today. That’s fine. It’s okay. I had only started my search because I had nothing better to do; I was just taking a break by doing this. Against my will, this spot made me start to think of… everything. My moving here, my lack of a job, my lack of a  house, that awful place that I had left behind, my dwindling visa, it all seemed like too much; it all was too much. I leaned on a dusty hvac machine, back heavy with worries, listening to the quiet shrills and screams of some not-so-far away concert. The music had deep, billowing bass and a powerful guitar. It was like no other music I had heard before, and it called to me somewhat. Unfortunately, the rotten worms in my head were louder than the music right now. Barely overshadowed by the crackling of my thoughts was a low rumble curling in the clouds above. I sighed when I heard a clap of thunder. The  muffled concert in the distance began to stop playing its heavy and low tones when the mouselike droplets evolved into a storm. I hated the rain. Not all rain, just this rain; this rain that marked the demise of my journey; this rain that reminded me I was only ever stupid and naive; this rain that told me to give up, pack my bags, and go back home; that I should have never left my country in the first place; that was the rain that I despised with all my heart. This wretched rain had gotten on my face. Yes, surely, it was the rain that was ruining the makeup I worked so hard on this morning. It was ripping up that stupid letter of mine and causing me to dig my face into my hands. All of this was blamed on the rain, who was innocent of all save for soaking my hair. 

I stayed like that for a while, next to the smoother gray wall, huddled over, soaked in mostly my own misery. My own waterfalls made the rain feel like a light shower. If nowhere else, I felt allowed in this alley. That I could cry and sob and be angry and scared and cold and nobody would care because they don’t expect to see sane people in an alleyway to begin with. I most certainly do not. The tears and rain that coated my palms made them almost suction to my face, but in the midst of my dolor, I heard a voice from somewhere beside or near me.

“What’s wrong lovie?” My head dragged up from my hands after the sound of a limoncello voice hung itself in the air. After a lousy wipe of my eyes, I was able to properly see the man who cared enough about a stranger’s tears to stop and ask what they cried for. That dingy street lamp flickered its light around him like a halo. It took me a moment to register the man, his dewy chocolate skin and glossy hazelnut eyes. His face was studded with silver stars, and despite his sharp expression, he held a certain softness about him. He held a bright red umbrella, funny, he didn’t look like the type. He was a tall man for certain, craning over so he could cover me. His presence made everything stop for a moment, a still, small, and quiet recognition fell on these two strangers in this back alley of London.

“Who are you calling lovie?” My voice was like a crisp, wobbling paper. I stood up to speak with him, but by the time I was at my full height, my waterworks were, once again, in full swing. He panicked a little, holding his free hand out in the way one would to try and calm a dog you’ve never seen before.

“Woa, woa, what's the matter with you? ‘s  everything alright?” I’m not quite sure what made me do it, maybe I’ve lost my mind since coming to this place, but I stood there and sobbed out everything that happened to me during my time in London. Words, and feelings, and thoughts and actions kept spilling, tumbling, out of my mouth like bricks collapsing through the bottom of a broken forklift. That whole time, he listened, actually, truly listened to the ramblings of a stranger who he’d just met in some shady back alley while it was raining. Once again, I held the feeling that everything about him glowed. 

“Well, have you got any place to stay tonight?” He spoke very softly to me.  

“If I did, I wouldn’t be hanging around here, would I?” I shivered like a wet rat, parts of my hair stuck to the nape of my neck. He laughs through his nose before shrugging off his studded black leather jacket and placing it around my shoulders. The lining was warm. 

“Well, let’s get you washed up. You look a bloody mess.”  He gave my shoulders a light tap.

“Am I bleeding?” I tapped my face a little, checking for anything warm. He gave me a funny look in response.

“Th’ name’s Hobie by the way. Hobie Brown.” I did my best to wipe my face off before telling him my name. I reached out my hand, and he gave it a quick shake.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

I followed him around the streets like a lost puppy, clutching the coat he gave me like it was a lifeline and occasionally looking at his silent face. The pavement we passed on was glossed over with the continuing rain. We passed building after building, some separated, some connected, and others so close they might as well be. I was certainly very close to someone who could, within reason, be mistaken for a building. If I ever began to wander too close to the edge of the umbrella, a steady and gentle hand would kindly guide me back to my spot beside him. We made our way to a canal style river thing in the middle of the city. He pointed my gaze toward a houseboat floating and rolling on the water. It looked like somewhere a retired pirate would live. 

The interior was surprisingly cozy despite its somewhat bare furnishings. Various knicknacks and things nestled themselves in unassuming spots around the place. The moment I set foot in the door, I felt right at home.

“Leave your shoes at the door, ’ll take that too.” Hobie. Hobie waited for me to unlatch my shoes and stand straight before taking his coat from my shoulders. I never noticed him put the umbrella away, but it’s gone, and his shoes are neatly set to the side on a not-so-neat towel. I don’t know what to say as I watch him take my shoes and line them right next to his, so I stand in the doorway and watch him wander out of view then right back in with some dry and clean clothes. He hands them to me with both hands, so that’s the exact way I receive them as I try to unclog my throat for words to flow through. I look back up at his face. He’s waiting so patiently for me to find my words, with that same sternly soft expression.

“Thank you.” The words came out a little too quiet, so I said it again. 

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me, even though we just met and I-” My voice broke again when I started tearing up. 

“Oh no, no, come on, love. You on’t have to cry.” Quickly, He thumbed away my budding tears, his palms warm on my face.

“I know, but I’m just- I’m so grateful, you know?” He did. He knew. I could see it in his shining gray eyes that he knew. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have waited for me to stop my crying. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have wiped away every stray tear himself. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been so quick to open his home to me. If he didn’t, he would have never lent me that coat of his. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have handed me these clothes that I’m holding.

Once I got myself together, I was directed to the bathroom. Surprisingly, (according to him), there was warm water to shower with, and I did so happily. When I stepped into the living room I felt like I had on brand new skin. Hobie had the stove on and open while he stirred some milk into a second cup of tea. He turned around before I could even properly enter the kitchenette, as though he already knew that I was there. 

“Feelin’ better yet?” He handed me the cup he was holding with a smile, a deep and pretty blue. I held it and relished in the warmth of the cup from both his hands and the tea. 

“Wasn’t sure if you liked sugar, so I didn’t add any.” I wanted to cry again. He was overwhelming in all the best ways possible, but I had already put him through enough of my tears tonight, so I sucked them back in.

“I don’t” I smiled at him before taking a sip of what could very well be the best tea of my life. 

“If ‘s not uncomfortable, you could stay ‘ere till you get your own base of operation.” He was leaning on the counter, index tracing the edge of his own cup while speaking. Instead of this tea, I wish I could drink the color of his eyes as they’re looking at me. I'm suddenly smiling a lot right now.

"I will, if you'll have me."

[wormswurld]

shoutout @femcelfuneral for reminding me abt felix absolutely coming apart the second ollie starts to play with his nipples 🤤 like jesus christ the sounds that would come out of that man would be Heavenly...

like thinking abt felix n ollie playfully arguing and ollie (being the fucking weird freak he is) decides to pull on felix's nipples to ????? shut him up??? get a reaction out of him??? assert dominance?? who knows! but felix's brain just immediately shuts down like !!!! "ollie, mate, i seriously dont- nghhhhh...." and his pretty face just twists up due to the short lived pain, his mouth going all slack, eyes quickly rolling back,, and ollie just looks at him like Oh Shit I Just Discovered Something About The Both Of Us lmao

after this new found Reaction ollie likes to play with them whenever he gets the chance absolutely reveling in the power he holds over felix,, this probs leads to felix wanting to get his nips pierced 😊 yet it's too embarrassing to get them done at a tattoo shop so ollie does them instead..."you ready felix?" ollie questions, eyes quickly raking over felix's shirtless body, taking in the vastness of his his chest and the way it rises and falls. hes so cute when hes nervous. "u-uh yeah, im ready ollie" felix responded anxiously, hands fidgeting with the sheets beneath him. slowly leaning over as not to scare felix more (not that it mattered anyway) ollie positioned himself eye level with felix's nipple. with small needle in hand, ollie looked back up at felix as for confirmation before piercing his rosy colored bud.

without missing a beat, felix let out a high pitched gasp, his hands struggling to ball into a fist as he felt the the pain permeate through his warmed flesh. "fuckfuckfuck..." felix muttered, throwing his head back in pleasure as ollie swiftly slid the small metal bar into his now puffy nipple. and oh, why don't you look at that. felix is bleeding. god, piercing him was one thing, but seeing him bleed was a whole other level of arousal ollie never knew he could feel. throwing all semblance of normalcy out the window, ollie leisurely licked at the small trail of blood left from the piercing. "nghh-no ollie please..." felix begged, this causing ollie to quicken the pace of his tongue gliding over the now gone crimson colored liquid that once marked felix's skin. and that's what did it. the most guttural moan made its way out of felix's mouth, as a wet spot began to spread its way across the front of his blue boxers. with that ollie decided to stop his actions, finally getting what he truly wanted out of felix. complete power and control. in that very moment felix was his and the light sheen on blood over his lips and chin proved that.

i have no clue what the fuck came over me with this. i just started writing shit...OOPS! thank u for coming to my ted talk that turned into an unexpected oneshot lmao love yall (u can tell i had to stop myself from continuing lol its late and i need to calm tf down...) 🤗

[jaysgirlx]

Could you please write a dick grayson oneshot and make it angst with some fluff plsss

❝ 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ❞

❥ pairing: dick grayson x civilian f!reader

❥ summary: dick loves you so much and you know it but all the two of you do is fight and your last fight might've just been it for the two of you.

❥ warnings: major angst, accused cheating, mentions of depression and reader is aware dick is nightwing.

❥ wc: 1.4k

"Why were you there with him? He knows better than to take you out" Dick said as he angrily slapped his apartment door behind him. The loud echo only showed how angry Dick was.

"What's wrong with hanging out with Jason?” You said bitterly, he had been ditching you all month and now he wants to play boyfriend? “And if you're going to be upset with anyone make it me, I was the one who dragged him out for drinks"

"Why? Do I not spend enough time with you or do you just prefer my brother? You know he's dangerous for fucks sake"

You don't respond this time, while the tension between you two thickened. I'm so fucking done. This wasn't fair to you. Everything these days was always your fault. “Dick, I'm allowed to hang out with Jason he's my friend not just your brother,” you said with your arms folded across your chest.

These days it was almost as if he wanted you two to argue and fight more and more. It was only was 3 months ago that things were nearly perfect and now everything is a mess.

Is he this mad over Jason?

Your plan for tonight had been to drown your sorrow's in some vodka and when you told Jason he said was coming with you. Apparently, he didn't think it was a good idea for you to go to the bar by yourself so he followed. He didn't drink but he did listen to you rant about Dick being well a dick. You two had been laughing and sharing about Dick right before he showed up angry because you missed 10 of his calls.

Dick grunted with irritation, your response not only made him pissed but also slightly jealous. Since when were you and Jason so close? You kept defending him like you two were… "Are you defending him because you're fucking him? Is that it"

That sentence was your final straw. You'll never know what compelled you to punch him, maybe it was resentment you had for him or maybe the alcohol that reminded in your system. Tears were spilling from your eyes while Dick stumbled back recovering from that punch. "Fuck you, Grayson" He looked up at you holding his nose, you could tell he regretted saying anything but that didn't mean he didn't mean what he said “Love I didn't—”

“Don't Grayson, just don't” You wiped the tears away and grabbed your things, your phone, an already packed suitcase, and your wallet. Dick watched you like there was something to be said and he just couldn't say it. He wanted to stop you, pull you close to him, and beg for your forgiveness but in the end, this was what he wanted. Why hurt you all over again later in time when he could just get it over with? Like ripping off a band-aid. Except it's really stuck to your skin. "I'm going to stay with Steph for the time being while you get your shit together"

Before you could even hear what he said you left with what you took, it was long before you arrived at Steph's place a complete mess knocking on her door. "Y/n, what happened?" she said letting you inside. You wanted to speak but you didn't know how. The only words that left your mouth were, "I can't do this to myself anymore Steph, I think we're done for good after this."

~✧~

3 & 1/2 months later

"I can't do this anymore, Dick"

Those words rang in his head while, Dick Grayson stood in front of your apartment for other fifth time this month just staring at your door. He knew you were probably home, listening to music while you made breakfast for dinner. This was how he wanted his plan to go, he gets you to dump him and he protects you from afar. But that night hadn't been a part of his plan, he was angry. Jason may have been his brother but he wasn't always involved with the right guys and you...you could get hurt and he'd only blame himself.

He was a fucking coward and he was okay with that, as long as you were safe. For the last two months, he'd been trying to track your every move but it was as if you had quite literally disappeared off that face of the earth. After what Steph told him, he knew you didn't want him around, and why would you? Though he was upset with you, he should've never implied that you would cheat on him. He knew you wouldn't. You loved him and he clearly did not deserve your undying affection.

After what seemed like forever Dick realized the silence coming from your home while quite strange. Your walls were thin, he would know because your neighbors banned him from staying the night due to the activities you two very much enjoyed indulging in. He gently knocked at the door as in pushing it open. It was unlocked. His fists clenched at the sight of the broken lock that he hadn't noticed until now.

Forced entry?

He pushed open the door wide, your apartment was a mess but it was also empty. He checked your room, bathroom, and the guest room but you were gone. He looked around the room for something. something tangible he could trace back to find you. He searched your bedroom once more, finding a blood stained envelope on your dresser labeled "For Nightwing".

fuck fuck fuck.

This is exactly what he didn't want to happen. Your life was in danger because of him. His eyes roamed the blood stained, tightly sealed envelope, reading his name printed on it in Black. He didn't hesitate before tearing it open and reading its contents.

Dear Nightwing,

You might know me since it seems like your former lover here forgot to mention me. The best boyfriend she ever had, we were just so perfect for each other. But after she found out about the stalking and the murders, she got scared and ran to you and took her away from me. She said I was dangerous! Can you believe that?

You're more than just that, you are sick, deranged, and mentally insane.

It took me a while to put together that she was actually dating you and then I had to wait till the two of you broke up. The worst part is that when I tried to win her back after your "horrific" breakup she told me that she never wants to see my disgusting face ever again and that she only wanted to love you.

She still wanted to love me?

And that just made me so mad. So mad that I wanted to end her sweet life, but I took mercy on her and decided that I was going to have a little fun with the two of you. From the way I saw you treat her, you were willing to do almost anything for her. I am so upset that I spent my time on a whore that is still obsessed with the likes of you and I want an out. I want to leave Gotham and start a new life and for that I need money. A lot of it. After learning that you are Dick Grayson, an adopted son of the Bruce Wayne I just knew all this would work.

So Nightwing if you want your girlfriend back you have to pay the price. Here's how much I want: 5 billion, that should be reasonable enough.

Wire it to this account number xxxxxxxx under the name Roman Jennings and it's under this girl's address. Don't worry, I will wait as long as you're willing to take but now I'll have my fun with her. Let's hope she's not dead before I get what I want.

— X

Money? He wants fucking money?

He kidnapped you, the love of his life, just so he could have some money to run away like some pussy. Now Dick was not only pissed but ready to kill a man. He had hurt you to keep you safe but you were in danger and he had no clue what to do. Well...he knew what to do or rather who to call but he did't want to.

I am not calling him for money.

He grumbled and whipped out his phone to text him.

Dick: Father, hypothetically could you gather up Damien, Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, and Barbra for me? For a late-night dinner perhaps?

Bruce: You only call me Father when you need something important. Did something bad happen?

Dick: Can you get them?

Bruce: Hypothetically, yes I could. What is going on Dick?

Dick: I'm coming to the Manor in about 10 minutes, please get them.

Bruce: Is it that bad?

Dick: Yes.

Bruce: I'll see you soon Dick.

This was going to be a long night...

[spacebarbarianweird]

Could please do some Halloween/All Souls' Day oneshot? It can take place during the time when Astarion and Aletha are adventuring together. It's a beautiful golden Autumn and they end up in a little town where there is late fall festival... They decide to indulge local kids and play a witch with the pointy hat and a vampire with long black cape. Fun stuff. If you want the do the "remembering the dead" thing, they can even get a trinket or a picture that reminds them of Tiriel as a reward. But this should probably be more sweet than sad. Thank you!

Finally did it! Hope you will like this story!

The Memory Night

Summary: Decades after Tiriel's death Astarion and Alethaine travel together through the continent

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, grief, father\daughter relationship, elven culture

In my HC "Silmarillion" and Tolkien's works exists as parts of elven culture in a form of ancient epic poetry (think about "Beowulf" or "Poetic Eddae"). Something everyone knows but isn't related to real history. So, elves sing a famous Elvish hymn but dedicate it to Sehanine Moonbow, not Varda

Alethaine's age - 176 years-old

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

In the Forgotten Realms, the closest holiday to Halloween is the Feast of the Moon, or Moonfest, an annual festival held between the last night of Uktar and the first day of Nightal. This event, similar in its themes of honoring the dead and reflecting on the supernatural, marks the end of the calendar year. During Moonfest, worshippers of Sehanine Moonbow participate in the Mystic Rites of the Luminous Cloud. In this sacred night, they are often transformed into scintillating streaks of light, flying across the starry heavens. The festival is a time to celebrate ancestors, remember the deceased, and embrace the turning of the seasons, embodying a mystical, otherworldly atmosphere.

**

“I am sure I am worth more than 30 gold!” Astarion remarks, trapped in a net. If it wasn’t for the silver he would easily set himself free, but since the threads are intertwined with thin metal strands the vampire needs some help. “Hey, where are you going?!”

Alethaine stops a few feet away. “Well, I'm going to those dwarfs and demand they pay me more because apparently the vampire I have ‘killed’ thinks he is more expensive. So, Dad, should I do this?”

“Princess, release me AT ONCE!” he demands.

“Don’t yell at me dad, I am 176 years old, not 7!”

Astarion huffs. “I am not “yelling”.I just… well… I don’t like being trapped.”

Alethaine climbs up to the tree and cuts the net. Astarion falls onto the dead leaves, swearing in all the languages he knows. He sets himself free and scratches a silver-induced burn on his left hand.

Alethaine wears her black cloak and shivers. Astarion sniffs the air. The dwarven village smells of warmth and blood and it is definitely a more comfortable place than the cold autumn forest in the middle of nowhere.

But you can’t “kill” a vampire and then come to the village with him.

“Let’s go,” Alethaine says. “I am freezing!” 

Astarion takes off his cloak and hands it to his daughter.

“Dad, I am fine.”

“And I have no use for this, for my heart is as cold as the grave I dug myself out of. Take it.”

Soon Alethaine stops shivering and father and daughter keep walking through the cold night.

Alethaine is visibly tired and barely talks. Astarion casts glances at her from time to time.

She doesn't look like Tiriel at all, he thinks. Tiriel, his beloved wife and his savior, died four decades ago and there hasn't been a night when he doesn’t think about her. Red hair, freckles, warm as a fireplace. Loud, rude, and sometimes unbelievably stupid (she hilariously believed the Spine of the World was a skeleton of some ancient beast). And an inborn leader who could make people listen to her and trust in her.

Unlike Tiriel, Alethaine doesn’t talk a lot. She leaves her thoughts in her head and rarely says more than she needs. The dark witch with a cold undead heart – Astarion has never asked her personal questions, but he suspects she has never been in a relationship with anyone in her 176 years of unlife. 

“Hey, cheer up princess, we will be back to the Swords Coast by winter. That means fat citizens with warm blood for me and tasty meat for you.”

“Are you suggesting cannibalism?”

“Maybe?”

Anethaine laughs, revealing her dhampiric fangs. “I miss finding books to read more.”

“You know,” Astarion pinches her nose. “I didn’t manage to teach your mother to read. Like, first I couldn’t believe she didn’t know how! She even didn’t know how to read ads in taverns.”

“Dad,” Alethaine asks. “Didn’t mum ever want to stay in Baldur’s Gate? I am sure you both had opportunities there after you’d defeated the Netherbrain. And now everyone thinks the city was saved by the Devil Duke and the Archmage of Waterdeep.”

“She didn't want to stay,” Astarion shrugs. “Escaped at the first possible moment. And honestly, I was fed up with that place.”

Alethaine looks up at the stormy skies and cold droplets of rain fall on her pale face.

“I have been there.”

“In Baldur’s Gate?”

“On the ruins of your master’s mansion.”

The silence is so thick that Astairon feels like he could touch it. 

“Some of the vampires return to the city using the tunnels,” Alethaine explains. “Some dhampirs try to chase them back but often get lost. You know, I sometimes think any sane person would have burned the vampire lair to the ground and hunted the rest.”

“Your mother wasn't sane,” Astarion smiles. “I mean, once she challenged a demigoddess to a fistfight. And then she got wasted with some goblins. And when I finally found her she was dragging a giant’s corpse to hide in the swamps because, quote, ‘no one must know…’”

Suddenly, Astarion feels the presence of another creature.

Very close to him.

“You!” a dwarf screams. “I knew you were working together! Brothers, halt!”

Alethaine grabs her dagger but Astarion stops her.

“There are twelve of them.”

“I feel fifteen,” Aelethaine corrects.

“There are twenty,” the dwarf sounds offended.

Father and daughter exchange glances.

“We aren’t in the mood for fighting, are we?” Alethaine implies.

“We aren’t.”

Alethaine runs to the right and Astarion to the left. No matter how fast those dwarves are or how many hammers they have, there is no chance to catch up with the undead in the woods at night.

Especially when it’s as dark as the last night of Uktar.

Astarion finds pleasure in running. His undead body doesn’t get tired and he feels warm from all that blood he’s been consuming in the last days. His shirt and trousers soon get wet, but they don't cause any discomfort.

He has been running like this for almost two centuries, ever since he broke his chains.

He has been running with awe and wonder in his chest because the night has no limits and no masters, and he can see all the marvels with his elven eyes.

Astarion stops.

Feels the presence of a crowd.

Of a song.

An aura of magic.

The vampire makes a few steps forward and upward to look around from above a tree.

At first, he hears a song. It dances through the night, enchanting and mesmerizing. 

Then he sees the singers.

About thirty moon elves in long silver clothes are walking forward, strangers in those dark and misty woods. They walk gracefully like spirits or gods and Astarion immediately recognizes what they sing. 

An anthem to Sehanine, the elven goddess of death, moon, and journeys.

Astarion hides behind the tree – the procession reminds him of something long forgotten and yet close that makes his undead heart ache and makes him want to howl at the moon.

“A Sehanine, 

Silivren penna míriel.

Omenel aglar elenath

“... na-chaered palan-díriel,” Astarion whispers the words of the song. 

The elves gather in a circle around standing stones. Astarion turns away. He doesn’t want to keep watching. He feels like he is sneaking, seeing something intimate, something he has no right to witness.

“Oh, I didn’t know there were Sehanine’s followers in the area,” Alethaine appears out of nowhere behind him.

“Fuck!’ Astarion exclaims. “Princess, you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“You need a heart to experience that,” Alethaine comments.

Invisible to his vampiric senses, Alethaine has managed to start a campfire and put up a tent while he was watching elves.

Astarion sits beside Alethaine feeling the pleasant warmth from the fire. The song can still be heard perfectly, and he notices Alethaine is being enchanted by it as well.

“Look!” Alethaine points at the dark skies.

Small silver spheres of light float in the air like little stars. A token of remembrance, Astarion realizes.

One light for every missing soul.

“Dad,” Alethaine whispers as if she is afraid to wake someone up. “Why did mum call me kitten? I always wanted to ask her when she was alive but forgot.”

Astarion follows the small spheres of light with his eyes.

“Because your fangs grew earlier than your other teeth. So you resembled a little kitten. And you also bit us to attract our attention,” Astarion chuckles. “And when you slept you curled like a cat.”

Alethaine puts a twig into the fire and watches it burn. “Then why ‘princess’?”

Astarion smiles. The flow of memories takes him to a past not so distant by elven standards.

“When I learned about you,” Astarion turns away to avoid looking at his daughter. “I ran away. I was scared, I was really thinking about abandoning your mother.”

“I don't blame you. I am the scariest monster in the area,” Alethaine chuckles.

“I spent three nights hiding and then saw a young human innkeeper. He had a little daughter who had been crying for his attention. And he called her ‘princess’. And I sort of got jealous. I wanted the same thing, to have a child. Then, I returned and your mother forgave me. End of story. Or maybe I just have some prophetic abilities that told me you would become a queen.”

“Me? A queen? A queen of what?”Alethaine laughs.

“Who knows. Maybe a prince is waiting for you. All royal and with a magic sword.”

Alethaine starts preparing her bedroll.

“When I was young and traveled with other dhampirs, a warlock did a card reading for me and told me there is ‘a king of swords’ waiting for me in the future. I told her I am as cold as a grave and know what sex is only because some of my cousins are fucking perverts.”

The song ends in the distance and Astarion hears soft echoes of elven whispers.

The moon elves are remembering their dead ones.

Wives, husbands, brothers, sisters, parents, teachers, friends. Hoping at least some shades of their personalities will survive the reincarnation. A desperate plea to Seldarines who couldn’t care less about their pointy-ear children.

Still, he joins the chorus.

“I remember,” Astarion whispers. “My wife, Tiriel.”

Alethaine bites her finger. “I remember my mother, Tiriel.”

Astarion gets closer to the fire. He doesn’t need to trance yet, but he decides the weather is too shitty anyway.

And he wants to remember better.

**

This autumn is different. It’s warm and foggy and local humans decorate the area with pumpkins that grin with their eerie smiles.

Astarion runs. 

He runs because he can and because there is no limit. He runs because he is well-fed and because no one can stop him from doing whatever he wants.

But always returns.

His feet are dirty and his shirt is in rags. He knows that his hair is messy and there are blood stains on his face.

He enjoys this too because he won't be punished.

Astarion jumps onto the roof of a small wooden house and crawls inside the window for comfort and safety.

“You look like you’ve been fistfighting ogres,” Tiriel notices from below the blanket. She has been sick for the last few days and spent all this time in a comfy bed.

“And you look like someone who has almost drowned in a swamp.”

“Astarion! You promised to forget it!” She hides her face in the pillow.

“How could I forget you going missing for a few days and then almost drowning in a swamp because you wanted to hide the body of a giant?”

Tiriel looks at him suspiciously. “You aren't going to forget that, are you?”

Astarion takes off his dirty clothes and uses wet rags to rinse off the dirt. When he is finally more or less clean he lies beside Tiriel who immediately hugs him.

When Astarion returns back to reality it’s already morning. He lies still, watching the gloomy skies from his dark tent. Trying to grasp the memory of Tiriel’s warmth for as long as possible.

--

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[rs8ndead]

❛ love. ❜ ⸻ dating Josuke Higaskikata

── ﹙ 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ MASTERLIST&INFO.﹚. ☆

→﹐ 𓏵﹒ SUMMARY.﹒⟢ ⸻ dating Josuke!

→﹐ 𓏵﹒ PAIRING.﹒⟢ ⸻ Josuke higaskikata x gn/gender neutral! reader.

→﹐ 𓏵﹒ A/N.﹒⟢ ⸻ Gender neutral reader ( they/them + gender neutral terms for user!! No specific gender set for reader :3 ) Feeling like that I have wrote Josuke wrong,,, HES ONE OF MY FAVORITE JOJOs BRO 😞😞 praying and hoping that I didn’t write him wrong I would literally like CRY if I wrote him wrong bro. ANYWAYS this is my first actual oneshot post or WHATEVEVRVR ( minus all the other fanfiction that I wrote on wattpad when I was like 12-13 but I do NOT like to associate those fanfictions with myself because they’re that horrible and I was a lonely attention starved kid who was looking for fame and attention ) so… pls ( pretty please ) enjoy it !! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

→﹐ 𓏵﹒ TAGLIST﹒⟢ ⸻ none 💔 pls let me know if you guys wanna be in my taglist for everything that I write or for something specific :33

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ﹙©rs8ndead﹚

💎  ⸺ Josuke, who’s a very touchy boyfriend. He’s a partner and lovey dovey type of person, so he likes to have his partner there with him when he’s doing justttttttt about anything. He’s playing video games? His partner’ll be sat next to him with his arm wrapped around his partners shoulder while he plays his video games. Spending time with his friends? His arm will be wrapped slung around his partner or holding his partners hand. Cuddling? He’s quite literally engulfing his partner with unstoppable affection.

୨୧ ᵎᵎ ﹐﹒⟡﹒

💎  ⸺ Josuke, who’s most *definitely* into PDA ( public display affection ), but he doesn’t really do medium or high PDA, he’s much more of a low PDA type of guy, like holding hands, light touching on the arm, shoulder, or back, quick hugs, an arm around the shoulder or waist, and gentle head resting on the partner’s shoulder, but in private he’s a whole different person when it comes to private affection.

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💎  ⸺ Josuke, who’s truly, a pure loverboy at heart, a gentleman at heart and at mind along with soul naturally, who’s always wearing his heart on his sleeve, and is a *literal* sweetheart who will practically stop everything he’s doing if his significant other needed him for absolutely any purpose and will practically do anything for his partner. He’s loving and an affectionate young man, the embodiment DREAM of a man who is practically ( no, literally. ) written by a woman and is just an amazing boyfriend in general + who also loves like those men in those cheesy romantic movies back in the 1950’s.

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💎  ⸺ Josuke, who’ll probably spend and take the time out of his day to write for his partner, like little post it notes with reassuring words on them and praise as well. ( example: “hey, I love you!!!”, “have a good day today (:” and stuff like that!! ), if his partner has memory issues then’ll he’ll definitely write reminders for them for anything important or just something in general.

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💎  ⸺ Josuke, who practically knows all the rules to a relationship. Side walk rule? Yep, he knows it by heart, where he would be walking on the outside part of the sidewalk closest to the street to prevent his partner from robbers, traffic and stuff like that. The random act? Of course, doing random acts of love for his partner, like buying them something he knows that they’ve wanted for quite some time. The appreciation rule? Yep, he’s always appreciating his partner with actions and words of affection. And many more rules.

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💎  ⸺ deep down inside of Josuke’s heart that pumps full of love for his beloved signifiant other, he sometimes feels that he isn’t deserving of his partner, and is genuinely insecure when it comes to those moments. But those thoughts always go away when he’s with his partner, he doesn’t like to dwell on the bad things, when he has his love of his life right with him.

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💎  ⸺ His love languages would definitely beeeeee; words of affection, always compliementing his partner and being a hypeman for them. Quality time, him always finding somehow and someway to include his partner in whatever he’s doing, even though if it’s meant for one person. And definitely physical touch, he just loves how his skin feels against his partners skin, he can’t get tired of it, no matter what.

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💎  ⸺ the only person who Josuke feels comfortable with his hair being down and not styled in his usual and gorgeous pompadour that he would spend what seemed like days perfecting his pompadour is his partner, of course. And bonus +points if his partner runs their fingers through his hair, he’s feeling that he’s in HEAVEN then from his significant others touch

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💎  ⸺ if any like street interviewers ( you knowwww,,, those people who ask couple questions like “how did you guys meet?” ) were to approach Josuke and his partner while they’re both busy walking through the streets of Morioh, his arm wrapped around his partner or him holding their hand and doing the side walk rule like ALWAYS, he’ll be all overprotective probably at the beginning, and immediately all like “yeah, why?? they’re with me, what is it??” and once he finds out that it’s a street interview when the street interviewer asks Josuke and his precious partner the big question: “how did you guys meet?” he’ll then become all giddy and all happy and his face just lights up and turns into this HAPPY wide smile as he then practically turns into putty at this question, like “oh my god!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა” because he knows this is HIS MOMENT!!!!!! to be able to talk to someone about how him and his partner first met without being told to shut up because the street interviewer does NOT know what they are getting into when they ask Josuke and his partner how they met. ( me personally, I don’t think he’d shut up about his beloved partner when he’s talking about them to be honest. ) He LALALALALA LOVESSSS telling people how him and his partner first met, HE LOVES HIS PARTNER, deeply, and dearly. ( IM REFERENCING TO THIS VIDEO, by the way. GOD Dustin Ponyter is such a cool guy, I love him for real 10/10 amazing guy to watch for real 🔥🔥🔥 )

It would be a nice, sunny day out in Morioh, a perfect day for Josuke and his lovely significant other to walk the streets of Morioh, with him on the on the outside part of the sidewalk closest to the street ( like always ) to protect his partner from any thieves and other dangers. His mom not nagging at him to finish his homework or to get off of his video games or to get out of his uniform, no annoying Rohan, no nonchalant Jotaro, no friends like Okuyasu, Yukako, Okuyasu or that alien guy Mikitaka to bother them ( who he deeply loved and cherished but still.. he just wants to spend a peaceful day with his significant other ), however today?? Oh, how he LOVEDDDDD today. Because today would be just him, and his partner spending the day together! Having his arm slung around his partners shoulder as he and them walked the streets of Morioh, the young couple passing by a street interviewer, who asks Josuke the question: “are you to a couple?”

Josuke, who raises his eyebrow up at the street interview, quickly getting a lil overprotective over his partner. “Yeah, why? You know them..?” As he gently shifted his partner closer to him, but he feels himself become more at ease and get more relaxed when the street interviewer then says “would you mind telling us how you two met?” As it was quite obvious that Josuke was excited at that question, a happy and wide smile plastered onto his face. “Oh my god!” Before he walked over to the street interviewer along with his partner as he then stopped and turned to his partner, “You go for it!”

Josuke was like literal putty, as he listened to his partner with heart eyes practically as watches his partner then tell the story of how him and them had met, and then Josuke taking his turn, in which he spoke highly of his partner, *very*, very highly.

As the interview went on, Josuke and his partner were asked for their names, as they responded back by saying their names, and went off with their day, Josuke’s heart fluttering since he had been able to talk about his partner instead of talking about his partner to himself inside his head.