#talking about how they hadn't set anything in stone

[strqyr]

sorry to spring this on you. Never think about Adam much because I never thought about him as a complete character, just an obstacle for Blake and to some extent Yang to overcome. That would bring the overzealous types from both sides out and I don't wanna deal with them. That being said I don't hate him because there really nothing there for me to hate. It's more like I nothing him. does that make sense? sorry for rambling

makes perfect sense to me, at least. tbh, i was pretty much in the same boat as you, but with long enough hiatuses i ran out of things to think about and unexpectedly. adam happened. and now he won't leave lmao

i'm like, running through multiple tripwires with this one, but being real here for a sec: adam really was underutilized while also being too many things at the same time. unfocused. like, he really came across more as a plot device than a character in his own right, popping up every now and then to be menacing and then disappearing until it was time to be menacing again, inexplicably developing off-screen like it's not exactly explained why he "didn't seem well", he just did. the thread is practically non-existent there; sure, i could make an explanation for it, but it wouldn't be satisfying (to me) based on what is actually on screen, etc.

which is a shame, because there's plenty of interesting stuff in canon that could be taken further with him, given more focus and all, but as he was written, at its core adam's character is being pulled in two different directions: is he a former, branded child slave with tragic story you're supposed to feel sorry for, or is he blake's abusive ex you're supposed to hate?

at some point, you need to commit to the bit, and with adam, that never really happened, and his character suffered for it.

[kedreeva]

Okay so, I don't think I've spoken of the saga here yet but! Gather round. I shall tell you a long story about the bird I just acquired and why she is VERY IMPORTANT.

At the beginning of last fall, I started looking into quail genetics a little more, because I got tired of not being able to sex my Celadon quail by their feathers. Originally I thought I could kill 2 birds (ok maybe more) with 1 stone and order nice jumbo wild type (which MANY places advertised as wild type jumbo) hatching eggs, and this would help me put some size on the Celadons (jumbo) while also making them feather sexable (wild type). Perfect!

But then I come to find out that pretty much all jumbo lines are jumbo BROWNS, as in they all have the sex linked brown (SLB) gene. So, I was a little confused and a LOT annoyed because I wanted to work specifically with the wild type color/pattern. No mutations just straight, plain wild type.

And EVERYWHERE I looked - major production hatcheries, private breeders through websites, Facebook groups, local swaps, craigslist, e v e r y w h e r e -

People ONLY had SLB.

This spring I came across a video showing about the differences between SLB and wild type and I figured if the person who made it can tell, maybe she will have some. So I looked her up (not in a stalker way, her farm name was stamped on the video and took me to the website), and what luck! She was in Michigan! Upper Michigan, so still a hike, but not California, y'know?

So I shot her an email and explained that I was looking for WT and that her site said she bred them and that people could do local pickup. She responded yeah she's totally got a bunch! And I said great, I'm also in Michigan, albeit far away, but I don't mind driving 7+ hours each way, because I really need actual, trusted WT for sure birds for my celadon project, can I come pick them up?

Cue the most frankly bizarre email chain in my short life. As soon as I mentioned that I was going to drive, or perhaps that I had a genetics plan in place, she got super sketchy and started saying how she hadn't really paid as close attention to SLB vs. WT, that it mattered less than she thought it would when she started, that I shouldn't focus on that either, and also that "fawn celadon is practically unheard of" in the hobby and "you should focus on a clean Tibetan because it's hard to find without roux in it) implying that I should concentrate on those things instead. And concluded by telling me if I really want WT, to contact this other person (why happens to be someone I can't stand). It all sounded VERY much like she didn't have wild type males, after all, and had thought I didn't know the difference so it wouldn't actually matter. But, it does. It actually matters a lot to me.

So I messaged back to say, well, I don't want to do any of those things, I specifically want to work with this set of genetics and you said you have them so I shouldn't have to go to anyone else??

And then she went radio silent for a week. I kind of figured I'd called a bluff, and that she was one of dozens of people I'd contacted who'd said they had WT only to find out they had SLB. I get that it's difficult to see the difference, but this particular person was the president of the American Coturnix Breeders Association or whatever (found out it's actually just a club formed by her and her friends a year ago, so not as impressive as it sounds, considering they don't actually DO anything- no putting on shows, no newsletters, no certifications, no public breeder directory, no finished SOP, nada), so I kind of expected she should know what she's talking about, if anyone does.

Eventually, after a week, she responded that she had been judging at a county fair, but she had a few heterozygous males (WT het roux, which is fine) and she could set a hatch for me for more if I wanted to come at the end of the month, but she's in WI now, not MI. I said sure, since where she was in WI was actually closer than where she'd been in the UP, and we arranged date/time.

The day of, my neighbor friend, Jude, comes with me for company/keeping me awake through the 15 hours driving round trip. It's a pleasant enough drive. We arrived at a cutesy little house on the edge of town that looks like anyone's house in a neighborhood, with a spacious lawn. The person meets us and takes me around the side of the house to a 6x6x1.5 or so chicken tractor, where she's got some male coturnix. She pulls the available males for me to look through and... fam, they ALL looked SLB, to me.

Now, she swore to me up and down that they couldn't be anything except WT het for roux, because of the way she is breeding them. But I've put these birds next to my SLB males and if I didn't have my males banded, I would not ever have told the difference between them. I still picked up 4 of them, because I will give it a go- worst case, I can produce plain Roux hens/plain Roux males for use in breeding later, best case they do actually produce WT hens and they just LOOK SLB and I have to figure out what the differences are. I don't want to leave without seeing her hens, which she has told me are all WT (which is why the males HAVE to be het for it), and she takes me back. Now the hens, the hens are easy to see the difference. White bellies first of all, but the chest feathers are also wildly different! The shafts are white, the dot around the shaft is dark, ringed in red, ringed in white. On an SLB, the shafts aren't white, it's just a black dot surrounded in a red feather, and the belly is all red/buff/cream, not white.

This is what an SLB hen looks like:

So I take a nice long look to memorize the color, and thank her for showing me and meeting, and we head back home.

I do fecals when I get home because all of the males are VERY thin, no meat on them at all, and since she said she'd been feeding Purina (garbage for fowl feeds), I figured that was why, but no- HUGE coccidia loads in all of them. So I treated them and got them on a better feed. They immediately began putting on meat, and they're find now.

The rest of this summer, I have spent going to local bird swaps and inspecting all of the quail I could find, hoping to find one (1) actual wild-type phenotype bird. Hundreds and hundreds of birds, I have pawed through them all, being super obnoxious to the owners I'm sure, holding and inspecting males. I found ONE suspected WT male (and this is a HUGE "suspected," he could very well be SLB with low red expression). I compared him when I got home and I'm doubting myself still, so I don't know if I will ever actually pair him with the SLB hens or if I'll just wait til I have a roux set.

Regardless, it's been a dry season for getting what I want. It's been a dry YEAR. Yesterday was another swap and more hundreds of quail and me pawing through all of them.

Until.

My eyes landed upon.... her.

If you've only lived in an area that has american crows and not ravens, you find yourself wondering if crows are ravens. You see a big crow and you think wow! maybe that is a raven! It could be a crow, but it's seems bigger so maybe it's a raven. But, if you take a trip to a place with ravens, and you see one for the first time, you realize that there is no question, when you see a raven. When you see a raven in person, there's no question and not only is there no question, you wonder how you could ever have thought a crow was a raven. It's laughable, while looking at the raven.

That's how finding this bird felt. I'd been picking up every SLB hen and going maybe this is actually WT? It could be SLB but maybe it's WT? But the second I laid eyes on her in the middle of a pack of SLB with some mixed colors, I knew I was looking at WT hen, and I can't imagine how I ever thought maybe an SLB hen was WT.

Here's a better photo of her chest and belly (she's beat UP from her previous home, the back of her head and most of her rump are plucked clean from males). You can see the white shafts and the white belly.

And some other pics of her, showing the grey-brown on her side and back- VERY different than the SLB hens

I can't express how stoked I am about this bird. This is the first time after a LOT of effort and time, that I have felt confident I am holding the bird I want.

She's also the indicator that I have a LOT of work ahead of me.

My end goal is to have birds that look like her, weigh 12-14oz, and lay large, blue eggs. I have birds that lay large, blue eggs, I have birds that weigh 12-14oz live weigh, and now I have at least 1 bird that looks like her, which means I can make more that look like her. The first step is cleaning the color mutations out of the celadon line without losing the celadon eggs. This is going to be a bit of a nightmare, BUT, I have a friend helping me out with getting a few celadons that are either WT or SLB (I'm guessing SLB all things considered) to start the work with. I will work over the winter to get a few more actual WT birds here, and to start crossing out the celadons with the SLB jumbos to clean out the other feather color mutations. Once I'm down to just SLB and celadon for mutations, I can clean the SLB out with the WT and roux lines.

This project will likely take me a good 2 years, maybe 3, to complete and then test breed to ensure I haven't lost the celadon gene and I don't have any hidden recessives lingering about. But just having the fucking materials to do it all on hand now is a huge step forward from where I was when I decided to start the project.

[the-badger-mole]

She knows

She knows

She knows

Zuko had thought his feelings for Katara were his secret. He'd never spoken to anyone about them, and he hadn't been treating her any differently since he'd figured himself out. His feelings were his burden alone, and he intended to keep it that way. Still, she knows ricocheted through his mind. His heart seemed to beat in time to words in his brain as he tried to process everything. The clamoring of the soldiers rushing up the stone stairs; the sound of the stolen air ship coming up behind him; the feel of Katara's lips on his.

Her fingers were clenched tight around the collar of his shirt. Zuko had just come to his senses enough to reach for her waist, intent on pulling her closer, when suddenly Katara shoved him backwards off of the ledge of the broken balcony. An airbender would've caught themselves and vaulted back onto the stone legdge. Zuko was no airbender, though. Their airbender was...someplace else. Zuko wasn't entirely sure of where. So when Zuko landed on the deck of the airship with a bone rattling thump, shock kept him there for the time it took him to refill his lungs. By the time he scrambled to his feet, the ship was already pulling away. Zuko had just enough time to see Katara turn from him to face his father's soldiers. She was outnumbered by at least a dozen, but she stood tall and firm, and even from behind, Zuko could see the determination in her stance. She would fight and die to make sure that he got away safely.

"No!" Zuko shouted. He threw himself at the railing, intent on getting back to her by any means necessary. He would leap from the deck and figure out the rest on his way back. Two sets of strong hands kept him from enacting his plan.

"Let me go!" he demanded pulling against the hold on him. "I'm not leaving her!"

"Zuko!" Sokka shouted. He and Suki pulled hard throwing him against the wall of the ship. "Stop!"

"Turn back!" Zuko half demanded, half pleaded. "We have to go back for her!" He was met with Sokka and Suki's twin grimaces.

"We can't," Suki said, grimly. "We have to get you to safety."

"I don't care about my safety!" Zuko insisted. "I can't leave her behind! Sokka, she's your sister! How can you just-oof!" Sokka's punch didn't hurt so much as it caught Zuko off guard.

"Don't you dare!" Sokka growled. He stood over Zuko, rage radiating from him almost tangibly. "Don't you dare imply I'm not just as worried about Katara as you are. If it wasn't for the fact that we need you to survive the war, I would've thrown you back to them to save her in a heartbeat. But the next best thing I can do is make sure my sister's sacrifice isn't in vain. That mean's getting you to safety and making sure you don't do anything stupid like trying to take on a whole troop of firebending soldiers.

A thousand arguments flew through Zuko's mind. They were superimposed over the image of Katara facing those same solders in his mind. Everything in him was demanding they turn around that instant and rescue Katara. His gambit for the throne was meaningless in comparison to Katara's safety. So what if she had willingly sacrificed herself? So what if he were summarily executed by his father, or even his sister? His own life meant nothing if Katara weren't in it.

Sokka was right, though. Zuko was loathe to admit it, but he was right. Katara knew what she was doing, even if Zuko was certain she didn't understand the full consequence. She'd saved his life. Again. Impotent and helpless as he felt watching her do it, she'd done it willingly. She'd done it strategically. His heart railed against it, but his mind knew why she'd done it. He had the best claim to the throne, after all. They'd talked about it to exhaustion. He'd told Katara all his worries, and she'd calmed them with her certainty that he was the Fire Lord his nation deserved. He'd never gotten the chance to tell her that he though she was the Fire Lady his nation needed, though they didn't deserve her by a long shot. He'd never told her that though he didn't deserve her, he needed her. Like he needed water.

She knew, though. She knew his weakness, and she'd used it. Zuko could still feel the pressure of her lips on his. Could still feel the way her hand tightened on his collar as she prepared to shove him away even while she was pulling him closer. She knew what she could do to him even in the midst of battle.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki said quietly. Both Sokka and Zuko looked up sharply.

"What?" Sokka gasped.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki repeated. "She's too valuable a prisoner. The daughter of the Southern Water Tribe chief? The... the friend of Prince Zuko? She's useful. If she surrenders, she will have a fighting chance." Suki's mouth was pressed into a thin, grim line. She was upset, too, Zuko realized. Maybe almost as upset as Sokka and Zuko were. Only almost, though. Zuko couldn't imagine his future without Katara in it, and Sokka had always been his sister's protector. As Zuko met Sokka's eye across the deck, he knew the Water Tribe warrior had made the same decision he had. If Katara was alive, neither would rest until she was safe again. The details of their rescue mission would have to wait until they could discuss them in private, but they would be going after her.

[luveline]

what about reader being stressed and feeling really bad due the amount of blood and how wild the murder happened in a mission and hotch comforts her?? i really love your work and i hope you write but of course it's okay if you are not comfortable with it!! though i crave some hurt/comfort right now 🥹 take care, we love you 🫶🏻🫶🏻

ty for requesting, i love u! fem!reader

You're used to depravity, but the body cannot truly desensitise itself from carnage. You shouldn't know the inside of a person like that, shouldn't be able to pinpoint gore with the accuracy of a mortician. You feel sick knowing what was supposed to be where. Enough blood to kick down the door and have it flood the hallway, stain your shoes with a permanent rust. 

You turn away from the scene, sirens and shouting white noise, and leave blood footsteps like a breadcrumb trail down the paving stones, huge slabs of white grey printed by wet soles. You're just past the red flash of the ambulances when you freeze, your legs won't carry you. You've no choice but to sit down hard in the road. 

There's just blood everywhere. No metaphor to soften the blow, no explanation. There was blood everywhere in the crime scene and it took less than ten minutes inside of it to be plastered with it too. 

Blood and cold floor. The road is cold, maybe wet, seeping into your trousers. You put your hand down and feel the dirty bite of it pressing into your palm.

Considering his duties, Hotch finds you quickly. You'd know him from presence alone, but hiding hand is familiar on your back. He crouches down behind you. 

"What's wrong?" he asks, second hand curling around your shirt. "You can't sit here. Can I help you up?" 

You manage to get to your feet by yourself. Hotch walks you to a car like you're injured, leaning you against the hood. "What's wrong?" he asks. 

You shake your head. This isn't some slasher flick where the blood is sugar syrup and everyone goes home, this is your life, that was somebody's life, and to be killed in such a violent way… nobody deserves that. Your arms twist around your stomach as your stomach twists into itself, churning. 

Hotch watches you severely. Anyone might think he was pissed with your behaviour, but he isn't like that. He's probably pissed he can't immediately fix the problem, arms crossed against his chest, the font of his SWAT vest glaringly white. He's neat and official as always, but there's blood on his shoes. 

You try to talk and it's like your lips are gummed shut, a hum with nothing intelligible as you lean forward. 

Hotch gives in. He breathes out, the barest ghost of his cologne distracting you from the smell of rust as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You curl your fingers into the strap of his vest, quick to press your face into his side, wherever you can that's softest. 

"I know," he says quietly, his arms tightening around you. The slide of his sleeves against your shirt, the sound that it makes, feels loud as a bell. 

You hadn't realised you were shaking. Hotch tries to wring it out of you one steady stroke of his hand at a time. You can imagine his viewpoint, your feeble position on the car and the white washed crime scene behind you. They'll be setting up the flood lights and taking photographs soon enough, no bodies to lay to rest, only gore to wash away. 

"I didn't think we could save them," you confess into his shirt, ashamed.

When he replies, it's measured, as though he's thought about his response carefully in little time. "That's realistic. This case has been… heavy from the beginning." 

Heavy isn't the word he would usually choose. He's talking to you, he knows exactly how you're feeling because he knows you well, and cares about you more, if his cheek pressed to your temple is anything to go off of. "I have to go coordinate," he says, his thumb rubbing with pressure into your shoulder blade, "I'm sorry. I'll get Reid to come sit with you in the SUV… Y/N, listen to me…" Hotch leans back, meeting your eyes. "There was nothing more we could do. I'm confident that you performed to the best of your ability. This outcome– this isn't what anyone wanted, and I'm sorry we couldn't fix it this time." 

"I just don't get how you can do that to another person," you say. Why you'd want to. You're a profiler, and you know a wealth of information about what makes certain people act as they do, but you still can't empathise with the killer. It's too much; it's beyond explanation.

"That's a good thing." His hands squeeze the tops of your arms. "It is." 

You look down at his shirt collar, thinking you probably don't deserve his comforting. This is your job, and tonight you couldn't do it. "Sorry I– I freaked out. I shouldn't have walked away." 

"That's a good thing, too, in a way."

He offers you a small smile. You can't smile back, but Hotch doesn't mind, his hands falling down the lengths of your arms. His fingers tangle momentarily with yours. 

Reid comes around to sit with you when Hotch leaves. He probably wouldn't have needed telling, your friend's hand curling over your shoulder protectively.

"You okay?" he asks. 

You watch Hotch lead his jurisdiction of operations. Things aren't okay, you're far from it, but you trust that it'll get better with Hotch at the helm. Still, a bitter taste lingers. 

"They won't be," you say, nodding to the crowd of people behind the rapidly erected barricade. At the very front is someone's mom. 

"Not for a while." Spencer tries to lighten the mood, throwing you a life jacket. "You're his favourite, you know?" 

You recall the subtle strength of Hotch's arms around you, the lean length of his torso and the warmth of his breath as he'd spoken in your ear. Without trying for it, your pulse calms. Your despair dulls to an ache. 

"You think so?" you ask. 

Hotch looks in your direction, checking on you. Spencer nods. "Definitely." He has a list of interrelated BAU statistics to prove it.

[mustainegf]

Hi, Elena! I need some hurt/comfort bittersweet story with Kirk (any era). He tells his girlfriend about his tough childhood with a crazy father, and the reader comforts him in a sweet manner 🥺

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐃 ¹⁹⁹⁰

That summer was thick with heat to our heads like a wool blanket. Even with the windows open, the small cabin we had rented on the outskirts of Mill Valley felt like an oven. Kirk sprawled all over the leather couch, shirtless, his dark hair curled at his damp forehead. I was sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the cool stone at the fireplace, with a half glass of wine in my hand.

We hadn't been together very long, only a year, but it felt like forever. We were comfortable together. We didn't talk much about his life on the road. He was Kirk Hammett, after all. The Kirk Hammett. Lead guitarist for Metallica. But all of it went away when it was just him and me.

He'd been quiet that night, quieter than usual. I could tell something was chewing at him, but I didn't push. I just watched him, the way his fingers strummed the air, searching for comfort of the guitar. Finally, he turned in my general direction, his eyes blacker than the dark night coming through the windows into the room.

"You want to know why I never talk about my dad?" he murmured lowly.

This made me nod, he'd said it so suddenly that I knew he must've been thinking about it for a while. I set my glass on the table and moved to sit closer on the sofa, letting my leg fall against his. He didn't pull away as he turned to me.

"He was a mean son of a bitch," Kirk began, his voice rough, like gravel scraping the bottom of a shoe. "He'd beat the shit out of my mom, and me too if he was drunk enough. I was just a kid, but I remember every goddamn moment..."

I stayed silent, letting him talk, my mouth going dry as I imagined his childhood. He never opened up like this before. I reached out, and my fingers found his. He grabbed onto my hand tight.

"There was this one time," he continued, his voice full of the memory, "My 16th birthday... He came home late, drunk as hell, and just went at my mom. I can still hear her crying, begging him to stop." A hint of the crack in his voice, I squeezed his hand tighter, for him to continue. "I just… I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped on him to pull him off her. He turned around and hit me so hard I..."

Kirk stopped, and his eyes dove into mine for anything I could offer. I felt stinging tears in my eyes, not only for him, but for the little boy he'd been, for the one who had grown up too soon in a house of fear.

"One day I woke up and he was gone," he said, his voice barely more than a breath. "My mom was on the floor, bleeding. I thought she was dead, but she wasn't. Somehow, she wasn't. I tried to help her, but I didn't know what to do. I was just a kid, you know? I was so fucking scared."

His hand swallowed around mine in a way that made me want to move closer, to try and hide him from such terrifying memories, I knew actions spoke louder than words. "Kirk, baby..." I whispered in a. "I'm so sorry."

He shook his head, a bitter smile twisting his lips. "Don't be. It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault but his."

We sat silent for a little while, his admission hanging heavy. I mean, how could I ever find the words to say? But I wanted him to know I was there for him, that more than anything, I wasn't going anywhere. I moved in and kissed his cheek, teared with the taste of salt through his wet skin, and he turned into me, burying his face into my neck.

"I never told nobody that," he murmured. "Just James."

I held him, felt his heart. That was all he seemed to need. "You don't have to carry it alone... Not anymore," I said softly, my fingers mindlessly toying with his tight curls. "I'm here, Kirk..."

He pulled back far enough to look at me. "I'm scared," he confessed. "That I'll end up like him. That I'll hurt you."

I shook my head, pressing my forehead to his. "You're not him," I told him firmly. "You could never be him. You're kind and you're good, and I know you'd never hurt me... or anyone for that matter."

For a beat, he just stared at me, his eyes boring into my own. Then he kissed me. Though a tad shocked, I kissed him back just as sweetly.

When we finally pulled apart, Kirk smiled. His fingers traced the outline of my face. He had this look... Perhaps it was peace, or maybe the beginning of it.

[whenlostinthedarkness]

Tis The Damn Season | Pt.1

Ellie Williams x Reader

Summary: You swore you'd never end up in Jackson again unless it was a life or death situation, but when that very thing happens, you find yourself back in the place you used to call home before it was tainted by her.

Rating: M [mentions of illness in a parent, weed usage, & talk of past relationship]

WC: 3.6k

A/N: Inspired by the song Tis The Damn Season by Taylor Swift. Hope you enjoy it! Pt 2 coming soon.

Masterlist How You Can Help Palestine

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

The snow was covering the beaten-up road just as it did every time around this year. Traces of your existence were left via the horse hoof prints now stamped in the fresh layer of white, a physical reminder that you were actually here even though you said you'd never come back unless you were needed for a life or death situation. Sadly, that's exactly why you were here.

Your mother had fallen ill. Not with just some minor cough or sniffle, but chills and a fever that hadn't lessened at all in the past two weeks. Everyone feared the worst for your mother, which left them no other choice but to spread the word until it reached you in the next civilization over from Jackson.

When word about your mother's condition finally reached you, you didn't hesitate to start grabbing your essentials and stuffing them all in a barely usable backpack as you set off on your horse and endured the two-day travel in the harsh winter conditions that only the month of December could bring.

During your journey you barely slept, you barely ate, you barely did anything for yourself because the only thing that you could think about was your mother laid up in bed in the infirmary, a place you had been a time or two with...her.

Of course, you knew it was severely possible you would have to come in contact with the very reason you left Jackson to begin with. That's when the fresh hatred that you felt when you left Jackson started to boil over again.

If Ellie didn't have to be a stupid, idiotic, ill-tempered, non-communicative piece of shit, you could've been near your mother by now. You would've been the first person to know when she was ill and, though you knew it was illogical adrenaline thinking, somehow you kept arguing with yourself that you could've prevented her from getting sick.

Even if it didn't make sense and even if you knew that wasn't necessarily true, you did know that if your ex-girlfriend hadn't driven you out of this town, to begin with, you would be with your mother right this second.

These thoughts swirled around your brain all throughout the journey to Jackson and didn't quit until you stopped at the massive front gates that separated the safe civilization from the outside realm that didn't promise safety or protection from those infected with the cordyceps virus.

Two men stood on guard-same as it always has been even though a few years separated you from the last time you were here. You recognized both of them and they must've as well as they nodded in your direction before pulling the chains that opened one of the gate's massive doors to allow you entry.

Jackson was lit up by string lights and barrels filled with orange fire that lined the main road. It hadn't stirred far away from the Jackson you knew years ago-this brought you comfort and discomfort all swirled into one.

You patted the side of your horse as you swiftly jumped down from the saddle, making your boots crunch against the snow-covered dirt path.

Slowly, your feet moved as your eyes took in everything from the new crack that was set directly down the center of the stone chapel, all the way to the tree that seemed to have grown two feet since the last you saw it. Things had changed, even if it was only slightly, yet everything still felt so familiar and untouched, as if you had only been gone on a month-long journey. Except it had been two years.

Two years ago you were a child. Two years ago the only thing on your mind was how hopelessly in love you were with Ellie. The daydreams were never-ending; you pictured having a house with her, getting married with her, growing old with her-everything was with her.

This was the problem, rather, she was the problem.

You had managed to entangle your life so much in Ellie that you had lost sight of your own hobbies, your own friends, and your own life. So, when you and Ellie had one of the largest fights in your relationship, you ran.

You ran so far and so fast that you didn't give Ellie the slightest chance to protest or apologize. Instead, she began to notice your absence around town until she started asking about you. Nobody else had known of your whereabouts either, except for your mom.

Ellie nodded as your mother spoke of your departure. She wasn't given many details about where you were going and why you were going. All she knew was that you left with your backpack, your horse, and a bow and arrow thrown over your shoulder.

It's funny how things come full circle. Now, two years later, with your backpack, horse, and trusty bow and arrow, you were back in the very place you had tried so desperately to erase from your mind.

But you didn't have time to dwell on this town and that girl-you had your mother who needed you. Thankfully, the infirmary didn't stray too far from the downtown area of Jackson, and before long, you were tying your horse to the post just outside of the main door.

Immediately, you were greeted by an unfamiliar face.

"Can I help you?"

"My mom," you spoke with a racing heart, "my mom is here."

Quickly, the confusion faded from the stranger's face and a look of sadness was quick to replace.

"Oh, oh right. We've been expecting you... she's right over here."

The walk was short yet agonizing as you passed beds, both empty and filled, until you saw the very person who gave you life.

Settled underneath a hand-knitted blanket, your mother laid. Her eyes were sunken, her jaw was sharp and lacking any facial muscle; She looked like a corpse.

You whispered, "mama", as your hand came to lightly brush against the cold skin of her cheek.

—--

You'd sat with your mother for nearly two hours before the night nurse came around and thought it would be best if you headed home and got some rest. She wasn't wrong, yet you still took offense, but begrudgingly went along with her request.

The heavy wooden door swung open with force due to the icy wind that had taken over the state of Wyoming. You felt yourself shiver, but you weren't sure if it was because of your nerves or the cold hitting your face.

"Holding up alright girl?" You said as your hand came to pat along the blanket you had placed on top of your horse before going into the infirmary. "We're heading home now...well, it used to be my home."

With your horse's lead in hand, you walked through the new inch of snow that piled itself on top of the inch you had ridden through hours ago. Setting off on a familiar path to the home you grew up in felt just as mysterious as the fog that was beginning to gradient the dark sky with gray.

"Is that who I think it is?"

The rough, deep voice nearly startled you as you spun around on your heels. It couldn't be...could it?

"Joel?"

Gray hairs stuck to Joel's forehead as he sat high and mighty on the top of his horse. He looked as if he was fresh off of patrol.

"Never thought I would see you around here again. How've you been?"

Your eyes diverted as Joel swung his leg over his horse before his feet met the same graveled-covered snow as you.

"Ah, none of my business anyway," he said once several seconds of silence had passed, "just glad to see again."

Your eyes finally met him as your lips spread into a soft, yet genuine smile.

You muttered, "Nice to see you too Joel", and you meant it with every fiber of your being. Though Ellie had tainted so many things for you, you knew she could never pour a glaze of hate over the one man who you thought to be the closest thing to a father that you'd ever had.

The both of you started walking down the road towards the direction of your home in such a natural state, it felt as if the years you had lived an entirely different life weren't real-as if you had never left. It nearly made you forget about the very reason why you became so close with Joel in the first place...but she would never be hard to forget for you.

"How've you been?"

Joel shrugged, "Same old, same old. Still killing clickers and working on guitars when I can."

"You're still doing patrols?", you asked genuinely. Not that Joel was ancient, but it was clear that he was beginning to show his age.

He chuckled with bright eyes staring straight ahead, "You didn't think a couple years would have me bedridden did ya darlin". His words were spoken with an amusement that had you embarrassed that you'd asked such a crass thing to begin with.

"I'd never imagine anything could keep you bed ridden, Joel."

Joel chuckled and peered over in your direction, "I knew I always liked you."

The both of you turned down another path in silence as your conversation naturally tapered off, thankfully, without a word spoken about Ellie. Joel knew better.

The house you'd grown up in was getting closer and closer - a weight of anxiety began to till up your lungs as your breath started becoming heavy.

What if the second you walked in that door, you'd be met with all those feelings you chose to leave behind in Jackson? What if you weren't as okay as you had been telling yourself? You'd never been so scared of silence and seclusion.

"Here we are," Joel spoke while he watched the way you looked at the home as if it were something repulsive and poisonous. He could sense your uneasy feelings.

"You know, you're always welcome at mine.” 

The moment the words left his mouth, Joel nearly regretted the option he gave just by looking at the way your face turned downwards. 

Softly, his hand fell to the top of your shoulder as you looked down at you. “I’ll make sure no one comes around and bothers you too.” 

You knew exactly who this “no one” was and you were grateful that despite Joel being Ellie’s father, he still knew to reassure you of your emotional safety.

“Think about it. Alright?” 

You nod at his words as he smiles in a way that is both sympathetic and kind. He viewed you as fragile- you hated it, but you also knew you weren’t feeling the strongest right now either. Your mother was usually your comfort and with that comfort not being available, Joel and his parental care was exactly what you needed right now.

“Tomorrow.”

Joel nodded, his smile turning up a couple inches more. “I’ll get a room prepared for ya then. It’ll be nice to have some new company..well, not entirely new, but..oh there I go again yapping. You know what I’m saying.”

You nodded with a hint of a laugh, “goodnight Joel. See you tomorrow.”

With that, he turned his back and walked the five extra minutes to his home. Meanwhile, you tucked your beloved horse inside the barn right next to your old home, ensuring it had all of its essentials before you made your way into your old home.

It was identical to how you’d left it. The same photo of you and your mom was framed on the living room wall. And.. ”oh god Mom”, you sighed at the 5x7 framed photo of you and Ellie that was from maybe five or so years ago. Back when everything wasn’t complicated and when you’d never thought that your best friend would be the person to make you leave this town.

You walked around the rest of the home examining various similarities and new items until a massive yawn pried itself out of your jaw. At that, you walked yourself into your old bedroom, which was left untouched, and got into much comfier clothes before slipping under the covers and trying your best to fall asleep.

If only your mind would shut up.

After tossing and turning for god knows how long, you decided getting up and having a reset could prove to be the cure for your momentary insomnia. So, with a heavy and aching head and shoulders, you stood up with a sigh.

As your eyes squinted and glanced around the room, Your eyes landed on a match. The small wooden stick sat between your fingers until it lit up with bright orange light.

The tall candle illuminated the room, giving you a better look at the nostalgic pieces of paper and pictures you’d tapped onto your wall from teenagehood and beyond. It's crazy how time went past, yet in this room, things seemed to keep the world from spinning on its axis.

As you shook the now extinguished match stick, the familiar smell of smoke made you remember something- you had a pre-rolled joint in your bag that you knew would come in handy and look at just how right you were.

After pulling your coat over your shoulders and securing the match box in your pocket, you set off for the front porch.

It was dark and deathly quiet, just how you liked it. The only faint, distant noise you could decipher was the light thump of a bass-heavy tune that you assumed was coming from a busy, Saturday night at the Tipsy Bison. You smiled thinking back to your past nights at the local town bar. So many memories…most of them spent with Ellie and other friends.

Your mom also loved the tipsy bison on any given night. She was often the type to greet everyone with a smile and friendly hello regardless of whether you were her best friend or an acquaintance. God, you missed her.

Before you could get too deep into anxiety and sadness over your mom's health, you decided a joint was in order. You weren’t about to process anything major without some sort of sedative especially when you were sleep deprived and being reminded of past pain nearly everywhere you went in this damn town.

Just as you did with the candle, a match stick was lit and touched to the tip of your pre-roll as you inhaled the smoke slowly…. Damn, did it feel good.

Instantly, you felt your shoulders slump downwards with every inhale you took until your eyes were properly heavy. But there was that music again, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued to see if it was still the same old place that, much like your old bedroom, seemed to make time stand still.

Without much thought, you began walking in the direction of the bar you knew and used to love oh so much. You wondered if it still held that barley and wood smell or if they still served Maria’s fresh bread. Oh, and if Seth was still a prick, though, you really already knew the answer to that.

The lights you’d seen hours ago were now hanging above your head like small little halos that almost felt like a shield from the outside world. It felt safe.

Your joint was nearly gone, with maybe a few more puffs left to it, as you continued walking until you were outside of the bustling wooden building. From the outside, the music was much more prevalent, along with the giggles and chatter from the rest of the townsfolk that were tucked inside.

Before you could decide on going inside the establishment or not, a loud group of people came bursting through the front doors. This group looked a little too familiar for your liking.

Dina and Jesse wore matching, drunken smiles as the entire group dove deep into a conversation about something that seemed rather amusing. There were a couple others that you weren’t quick to recognize except for the person to the right of Jesse who nearly made you run to your mother's home at top speed.

Ellie’s presence didn’t catch your eye at first, something you blamed on the substance tucked between your fingers, but when you did put the visual together with all the past memories, it felt like an avalanche. Thankfully, you were able to take her in first before she made eye contact with you. 

Her hair was down and a plain colored shirt and army green jacket covered her upper half. She looked good, but you weren’t about to let your mind entertain any other thoughts of her before you turned away and hoped that she would somehow miss your figure in the middle of the walkway. Sadly, your hopes were dashed. 

Though you were quick to move your eyes, focus on your feet and the joint you were currently inhaling, you could feel Ellie’s eyes boring a hole into the side of your head as if she were trying to decide if seeing you was real or a hallucination. And who's to say she wasn’t doing exactly that. However, a squealing voice broke both of you out of your objectives.

Your name was yelled from a person in the group whose voice you knew all too well. Your disguise had been recognized and it wasn’t easy for you to ignore it…and some part of you didn’t want to either.

You closed your eyes as you took one last hit, breathed in-then out, and lifted your head.

Dina was barreling towards you with flimsy legs that were much more clumsy than when she was sober. This made you smile somehow, despite the oncoming reunion with your ex that you were dreading.

“Hey Dina”, you said just before her arms enveloped your shoulders in possibly the tightest hug you’ve ever felt.

“What are you doing here?!” She slurred as both of her hands moved to cup both sides of your cheeks. You were both putting on quite a show for the group, especially the ones who, you assumed, had no idea who you were.

“I couldn’t sleep so i thought-”

“No, no! I mean here-In Jackson. What are you doing here?”

Your smile instantly dropped as you thought of your ill-stricken mother who almost looked like a stranger to you. You kicked your feet causing a puff of dust to whirl through the air. “My mom.”

Dina’s glossy eyes remained, but her gleeful expression shifted the instant you said the two words. “God, I'm sorry. Of course, that’s why you’re here.” Her voice trailed off as her hand brushed your upper arm.

“How are you holding up?”

You shrugged and it was honest. “I don’t know. I’m finding it hard to feel anything right now.”

Dina made an understanding nod just as Jesse came into your line of view with arms held open wide.

“Bring it in stranger.” 

A familiar smoky, leather scent encircled the both of you as you allowed yourself to fully embrace your old friend. Jesse smelt the same as he always had which brought a comfort that you didn’t know you were in need of.

His large arms squeezed you briefly before pulling his body backward and greeting you with a sympathetic smile.

“Never thought I would see you again.”

You smiled timidly, “I didn’t think I'd see you again either.”

“Not that I'm complaining.”

“Better not be,” you joked as your hand lightly smacked along his coat-covered arm in faux scolding.

Just then, the figure directly behind Jesse cleared their throat in a successful attempt at gaining the group's attention.

Your eyes met hers and it was instant chaos. The best you could do was press your lips together and nod in her direction. The silence between the both of you was pathetic and sad.

“If you feel like it, we’ll be around. Come say hi if you can.” Dina said with a nurturing tone that was trying its best to cover up the obvious tension and awkwardness that Ellie’s close proximity was causing.

Your eyes felt like weights that you had to force away from hers as you pulled eye contact from Ellie and looked toward your friend with a nod. “I’ll try to see you again before I head back home.”

You swore you saw Ellie flinch in the background at the mention of your departure. You tried your best not to care or question.

“One more hug please?” Dina held out her arms- Jesse mimicked her as well. 

“You guys are ridiculous”, you teased with a smile as you allowed a group hug between the three of you to seal your interaction for the night. 

After the embraces, you were left to watch the group walk off further into the distance as their descent morphed more and more with the darkness of the night. As if she could feel the weight of your glance on her back, Ellie peered over her shoulder and looked straight at you just before the group's bodies became dark. And even though you couldn’t see her, you knew she would’ve been quick to turn herself back around and pretend that you meant nothing to her.

What a good liar she could be to herself and others when she wanted to be.

[midnightlazule]

{NSFW} Breeding [Sabo x AFAB!reader] (2023 KT)

Summary | After neglecting your needs for a few weeks, you finally figure out what had Sabo so adamant on staying out of the bedroom.

CW | AFAB reader / She/her pronouns / p in v sex / breeding kink

To say Sabo had been acting weird recently was an understatement. The man had been going through great lengths to keep the topic of sex out of any and all conversations. Anytime you'd bring up having some bedroom fun with the man, he'd immediately shoot it down and claim he had work to get done, or he was simply just too tired.

It had begun to worry you.

Maybe he was no longer interested in seeing your body? Was he no longer attracted? You didn't know the answer, but you hoped it was nothing bad.

-----

You had came back from a recent mission, having been sent by Dragon to recover information that was useful for the revolutionary army. As you made your way back towards Dragons office, you couldn't help but overhear the sound of Sabo talking with another female coworker. You could hear her giggling while Sabo talked in a hushed town.

Was this the reason why he hadn't been wanting to spend time with you in the bedroom? Had he been seeing someone else behind your back? You shook your head, Sabo wasn't that kind of person, if he had a legitimate problem then he'd talk it out with you.

He was likely just stressed.

Continuing on your way, you tried to push all the thoughts of Sabo and whoever it was in there with him out of your mind, not wanting to let it put a damper on your mood. Approaching Dragons office, you knocked, announcing your arrival before opening the door.

The man himself was sitting at his desk, looking through some documents, grumbling to himself. "Sir?" you questioned, "I have the intel you wanted me to grab" setting it down on his desk, he gave you a nod.

Turning to leave, you were stopped by the sound of him clearing his throat. "___, something on your mind?" he questioned, looking up at you with that stone like gaze of his. You shook your head, "nope, just typical ol work stuff" you answered, looking at him with a neutral expression. He motioned for you to sit down, "Sir, I promise I'm fi-" he glared at you, "sit down, that's an order."

With a heavy sigh, you obeyed, sitting down in one of the leather chairs. "What's bothering you, surely it's no one in the office?" he asked, "No, no, it's no one in the office, at least I don't think it is.." you muttered, "at least you don't think it is?" Dragon repeated. "It's just.." you trailed off, looking down at your hands.

"Does this have anything to do with Sabo?" he asks, leaning back in his chair. "Yes but it's all relationship stuff, it doesn't have anything to do with our jobs" you picked at the skin on your fingers, "besides, it's nothing you should concern yourself with, sir, you have a lot on your plate already.. you shouldn't be worrying about my relationship problems" you chuckled awkwardly.

He hummed, looking at you with a calculated gaze. "Very well" he motioned his hand for you to leave. Giving a polite nod, you got up from the leather chair and left, closing the door softly behind you. On your walk back, you passed by Sabo's office once again, all that was audible was the shuffle of paper.

"___!" Sabo called out, getting up from his desk. "How was your mission? You never stopped by after you got back, it had me worried" he approached you, stepping out of his office. You gave a soft, almost forced smile, "I was going to but it sounded like you were busy discussing things, and I didn't want to intrude." You didn't fail to notice how his face paled just the smallest bit.

"Oh- well, did you hear anything?" he asked, not at all realizing just how awful that sounded. You stared at him for a moment, before crossing your arms "what do you mean? Is there something I shouldn't know about?" you frowned, looking up at him.

"Well, yes and no?" he chuckled awkwardly, "listen.. I- I can understand how strange that sounds, but I promise it's nothing bad, okay?" he puts his hands up, clearly more nervous than before. "Then tell me what it is" your frown deepened, "because surely it doesn't have anything to do with you seeing someone behind my back" you growled.

"What?! No, god, ___, no I would never.. Look, just.." he looked around the hallway before grabbing you by your shoulders, pushing you into his office and closing the door behind himself. You stared at him expectantly, clearly irritated and on the verge of yelling at him if he didn't fess up to what he was actually doing.

"Look, ___, I.. I was talking to Koala about.." his face flared up, rubbing the back of his neck. "About?" you questioned, "look Sabo, if you're cheating on me can you please just fess up? You've been avoiding having sex with me for past few weeks, if you're no longer attracted to me then just say it instead of keeping me in the dark!" you could feel your throat beginning to burn, tears were threatening to spill.

Sabo looked like he'd seen a ghost after hearing what you just said, "___, no-" he sighed, what why was this so difficult for him? "I was talking to Koala for advice about kids, since she's more knowledgeable about all of that" you raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a strange look.

"What?" you said, "so you went to Koala but not me?" you scoffed, "I'm leaving" you walked past Sabo, but felt his hand grab your wrist. "I talked to her about it because I want to have a child with you, ___" he spoke quickly, his voice shaking. You turned around to look at him, brows raised, "...what?"

"I want to impregnate you, ___, that's why I have been hesitant to have sex with you because I've been afraid that I wouldn't be able to control myself" the words fell from his lips quickly, and you struggled to keep up. "I've been wanting to just.. fill you with my seed, to watch your stomach grow in size" his face grew an even deeper red the more he continued to talk.

"I want to breed you" he coughed into his hand, looking away, almost shamefully.

It was your turn for your face to flare up, looking at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

"I know it's weird and I'm sorry-"

"Stop" you held up a hand, Sabo looked deflated. "Let me get this straight, you didn't want to have sex with me because you were afraid you'd impregnate me without my permission?" you looked up at him, and he nodded. "Sabo.. god, you big goof, why didn't you just speak to me about it?" you sighed, a relieved laugh leaving your lips.

"You've said before you didn't want kids" he shrugged, eyes downcast. He felt bad for leading you to believe that he'd do such awful things behind your back. "Sabo, I said that six years ago" you stated, "having your child would be an absolute blessing, but there's no telling if Dragon would allow me to take it easy" you sighed, "I can talk to Dragon, I'll take up any extra work in order to keep you from doing too much" he said quickly, a hopeful sparkle in his eyes.

Crossing your arms, you looked at him with a smile, "you already know he wouldn't have you do more work than you already do" a chuckle left your lips, "he'd likely just keep me from going out and getting intel, he's not going to force a pregnant lady to go out and do dangerous jobs, he's not an asshole."

"So does this mean.." he trailed off, looking down at you with a hopeful gaze. "We'd have to get a nursery set up" you chuckled, Sabo was absolutely beaming, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. "Sabo-" you patted his shoulder, not being able to breath from his tight embrace. Releasing you with a quick apology, he wraps his arms around your waist, leaning down to give you a kiss on your forehead.

Smiling, you opened your mouth to say something before a knock sounded at the door, interrupting the moment. "Sabo? May I come in?" It was Koala. "I have that paperwork you asked me to get" she walked in, stopping in her tracks when she noticed you in the room. "Oh! I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

"No, not at all, me and Sabo were just talking" you smiled at her, giving Sabo a subtle wink. "I'll leave you both to your business talk, I have things to get done" you gave Sabo a quick peck on the cheek before walking past Koala, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

.........

"You two looked happy" Koala teased, smirking at Sabo, "did you finally grow the balls to tell her?" she asked, watching Sabo as he sorted through some of the paperwork she'd given him. "I did, yeah" he said, clearly not fully paying attention. "What?! Really? How'd she take it?" Koala sat up, looking at Sabo with a wide grin.

Finally paying attention, his face reddened. "She took it well, but scolded me for hiding it from her" he chuckled, "I'm happy I told her though, I just hope Dragon doesn't mind her taking time off once the baby bump starts coming in" Koala scoffed, "of course he wouldn't mind, he's not an asshole!" Sabo snickered, it seemed both you and Koala knew Dragon well enough to know he wouldn't force a pregnant lady to work.

Although even if he did, he'd likely never hear the end of it from everyone, especially Ivankov, they absolutely adored you.

"I just hope I'll be able to protect both ___ and our child" Sabo looked up at the ceiling, "I don't think you'll have to worry about that, ___ is a strong woman, she'd kill a whole army of marines before she'd let them lay a hand on a child" Koala smiled, she really did admire you.

"Say.. Koala, I still have yet to speak to ___ about it, but.. If she's okay with it, and if you're okay with it, I want you to be a god parent to our child, just incase anything ever happens to us" Sabo looked at Koala, a serious expression on his face. "You already know I'd accept that in a heartbeat Sabo, you and ___ are like family to me" she smiled softly, "anyways, sorry to cut this conversation short, but Dragon did request to see me after I got done giving you the paperwork and what-not" she waved a quick goodbye, leaving the room.

Sabo leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his lips.

A wistful feeling stirred in his gut, he wished Luffy and Ace were here, he'd love for them to meet his future kid.

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

Evening time rolled around rather quickly, sitting in the cafeteria with Koala, the both of you were talking about really anything that came to mind. "So, now that you know Sabo wants to have a kid with you, when are you both going to get busy?" she smirks and wiggles her eyebrows. You lightly hit her shoulder in a friendly manner, trying to fight off your rising blush. "That's none of your business" you gave her a look, smiling.

"Oh come on! Everyone here has been waiting to hear the good news of Sabo fessing up, they want a mini you and Sabo running around" she said rather loudly. "Koala! At least keep quiet, jeez! I don't need everyone here knowing that we're planning!" you tried to make yourself appear smaller.

"Sabo finally told you!?" a loud voice sounded from behind you. You felt your soul leave your body, if Koala wasn't loud enough, than Moda surely was. The girl looked down at you with a wide eyes and a happy smile, hands clasped together. "Shhh! Please! I don't need everyone knowing-"

"So he finally fessed up? good for him, I was getting sick of waiting" Ahiru chuckled softly, looking down at you with soft eyes. "Don't worry, ___, we already knew about Sabo wanting to have a kid with you, just glad he said something or I would've told you myself" she joked. You sighed, rubbing your face with mild annoyance.

Before the three women could continue to pester you further about the fact that you and Sabo were planning on having a child, the man himself walked right through the cafeteria doors. He looked around, searching for you before his eyes finally landed on your form. You had your elbows on the table, rubbing your temples the same way you do every time you're annoyed.

With quick strides he made his way up to the table, giving the three women surrounding you polite nods. "___, we got some paperwork to fill out, Dragons orders" he spoke, looking down at you with a glimmer in his eyes. You peered up at him, "what is it about?" you asked, "important matters, so come on" Sabo said, ushering you to get up and follow him.

Getting up from the table, you waved a quick goodbye to the three girls. "Don't shake the bed too much!" Koala yelled out, the other two women laughed. You looked back and gave each of them a playful glare, even though you were in fact annoyed, you couldn't help but crack a smile at their jokes and friendly jabs. "Seems like they were giving you trouble" Sabo hummed, pushing open the cafeteria doors for you.

"No, not at all" sarcasm laced your voice, "anyways.. what was it that Dragon wanted us to work on?" you asked, Sabo chuckled. "Well, Dragon didn't actually have anything for you to help with, I just fibbed a little so that I could get you into my office without causing too much of a fuss" he smiled. "And I'm glad I did, those three wouldn't let us hear the end of it if I told you I needed you in my office for no reason"

You snickered, "so what, you just wanted me to sit in your office while you worked? No other reason?" you smirked at him, winking. He smiled, holding a finger up to his lips, "that's confidential information that I can only share behind closed doors."

Rolling your eyes in a playful manner, you decided to refrain from asking anymore questions, knowing he wouldn't answer them until we were in the privacy of his office. The walk was comfortable, keeping up with his pace with ease, he was walking a little quicker than usual. Whatever was on his mind had him eager to get back to his office.

.......

Approaching his office, he opened the door for you, holding it as ushered you inside. His desk was covered in a couple small stacks of paperwork. It was all neatly placed, which was no surprise given the fact that Sabo preferred to be neat and tidy.

"So.." you turned and sat against the desk, crossing your arms. Sabo locked the door behind himself, turning to face you he smiled. "About that 'confidential information'?" you asked, cocking your head to the side. "Right.. right" he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, "what? turning shy on me already?" you purred, pushing yourself off the desk you approached him.

Placing your hands on his chest, you dragged them up to his collar, fixing it. He stared down at you, taking your hands into his. "I wanted to do something special with you, since it's been a little while since we last had sex" he brought one of your hands to his lips, leaving a delicate kiss against the back of it.

You hummed, "I would like that" a smile spread across your lips, "but.. because you left me waiting for so long and led me to worry, I'm going to take it upon myself to punish you" you smirked. "It's only fair" giving him a sultry look. Before he could question, you removed your hands from his grip and lightly pushed him over to his desk.

"Is my punishment you having me do my work instead of fucking you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, "because I feel like that's also punishment on your part, especially since this can take hours to complete" he finally sat down, watching you with curious eyes. "Oh no, darling, you'll see soon enough" your smile was cruel.

.......

"How is this fair?" Sabo groaned, trembling as you sat on his lap. He laid his head down onto your clavicle, you could feel warm puffs of breath against your skin. You had decided the best way to punish the man was to cockwarm him. Despite the fact that he was all for the idea, he was really beginning to regret it, having you clench and flutter around him for what felt like hours.

His head was spinning, and he could barely focus on anything, he knew he had work to get done, but how was he supposed to concentrate? Thank god Dragon didn't expect him to get it all done within one day.

You were sitting there silently, rolling yourself against him each time you felt him grow even a little flaccid. He could feel your slick dripping down onto his base, completely soaking his pubic hair, god how he wanted to fuck into that sweet, dripping cunt of yours.

"___, please." he whimpered, hands circling around your waist, he was struggling to keep himself from humping up into you. Beads of sweat fell from his temple, trailing down the side of his face. "I think you're capable of waiting, I mean, you did make me wait weeks, you should consider yourself lucky that I'm even giving you this" there was a sickly sweet smile on your face.

The grip around your waist tightened, and Sabo felt himself slowly lose control, "Please, baby, please" he whimpered, a sharp groan leaving his throat when you clenched around him. He could feel the chuckle that vibrated through your body, one that was cruel and completely unsympathetic, "why are you begging? You're already inside of me."

He hissed out, no matter how easy it could be to bend you over and take you, he knew he couldn't. This was his punishment for the way he had neglected your sexual needs, all because of his own kinks he was too afraid to open up about. "You know I'm not going to do anything until you give me the okay" he groaned.

You hummed, clearly pleased by his answer you decided to reward him by lifting yourself just a little hearing his choked moan as you sunk back down. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take, a pitiful sob fell from his lips at the feeling of your pulsing heat around him, holding him like a vice.

It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your composure, despite the fact that this was meant to be a punishment for your lover, you couldn't help but slowly grow needy as well. His thick cock constantly throbbed inside of you, pulsing against all the right spots. But no matter how much you wanted to give him permission to move, you wanted to keep him like this for just a little longer.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door.

You felt Sabo flinch against you, "Sabo?" a voice called, though it was muffled, you recognized Koalas voice instantly. You turned your head to look at Sabo, his eyes wide, 'don't you dare' he mouthed, grabbing hold of your hips, attempted to keep you in place. Giving him an innocent smile, you rocked your hips into him, watching as he squeezed his eyes shut and bit his bottom lip in attempts to not make noise.

"Pretty sure they left early" another voice sounded, and you could hear Koala laugh. "Come on, lets go see if we can find Hack, he'd be delighted to hear the news" you listened as their talking and giggles slowly faded away. Feeling Sabo blow out a hot puff of air as he relaxed, you couldn't help but snicker. "You're a cruel woman, ___" Sabo breathed.

You mocked a pout, "calling me cruel.. especially when I was just about relieve you of your punishment." You reveled in the look he gave you, tilting his head back, he couldn't help but whine. "Baby, please" he begged, he was growing desperate. His usual calm and collected demeanor was slowly but surely crumbling, leaving nothing but a man desperate for release.

"How badly do you want to fuck me?" you asked him, "I want to- badly, please darling" he trembled against you. "Do you think you've been punished enough?" you asked, Sabo breathed, giving you a look. He knew that was a trick question, "no, I deserve much less than this- you are too kind, my dear" you smiled, "I think I've punished you enough, my love" you felt his arms tighten around you, but he refused to move.

You couldn't help but admire just how well he knew you and your tricks. Every offer you made was a trick in disguise, one that would further his suffering. No matter how badly his cock was aching, or how much his mind screamed at him to bend you over and take what was rightfully his.. He wouldn't until you gave him direct permission.

"Sabo.." your low and sultry voice caught his attention, looking at you with lidded eyes, he rubbed a hand against your hip to show he was listening. "What a smart little thing you are" you leaned closer to his face, leaving small kisses along his jaw. He whimpered, you could feel his fingers tighten over your hips, on of them sliding down to hold your thigh.

Your kisses made it up to his ear, grazing your teeth along the outer shell, you left another kiss on the tip of it. "Earlier you said you wished to breed me, yes?" you said lowly, "yes, I want to, so badly" Sabo's voice trembled, "then do it" you smirked.

Lifting you off of him, you couldn't help but whine from the feeling of no longer being filled, but Sabo wasted no time. Pushing you back onto the desk, you hissed out in pain from the feeling of it digging into your back. Sabo muttered a quick apology, grabbing and lifting your legs, he placed them on his shoulders.

You nearly screamed when he thrusted himself back into you, the desk creaking and loud squelching from the slick that had collected over his base sounded around the room, letting everyone who was passing know just what was happening. "S-sabo!" you called out, his thrusts were rough and desperate. "That's it" a low groan left his throat, "call my name, say it loud, let everyone know who's pumping you full... gunna breed you so good baby" he growled.

His words caused the coil in your stomach to snap, a silent cry left your lips as white overtook your vision. Your body shook, and the pressure in your abdomen went by in waves, you heard Sabo growl something, but the ringing in your ears was far too loud. Sabo's thrusts stuttered, feeling your cunt squeezing around him tightly as you came, he groaned, his rhythmic relentless pounding turned into sporadic deep thrusts as he got closer to his own release.

"Yes, yes, yes, ye-" Sabo repeated the same word like a mantra. Spreading your legs further, he leaned forwards, placing his hands on both sides of your head. He gripped the edge of his desk, using it as a stabilizer as he ground his hips into yours. The new position had the both of you seeing stars, you could feel your second release building up as Sabo was chasing his with desperation.

Despite your body feeling like it was boneless, you raised your legs, and wrapped them around Sabo's waist, pulling him closer to you. This seemed to do him in, groaning out, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he rutted into you, hips stuttering as he finally came, filling you. The roll of his hips against yours brought you to your last orgasm, your cunt fluttering and clenching around Sabo, practically milking him of every ounce of semen he had to offer.

A weak chuckle left his lips, lowering himself against you, he panted against your sweaty skin. Raising a hand, he placed it against your stomach, "gunna be so happy..." he said breathlessly, "can't wait to see you all swollen with my child" nuzzled against you.

"Did such a good job" he breathed tilting his head up to look at you. "Give me a little bit and I'll help you clean up" though you said nothing, you raised a hand and ran it through his hair, not at all minding the sweat that accumulated on his scalp.

The both of you laid there for a little while longer, enjoying the afterglow of your devious deed. 

[lilithinstarlight]

Freminet x SeaCreature!Reader

Hi hi! I just happened to stumble across your account as of today and read through the f.f you had of ao3! I really liked it btw!

I wasn’t sure which fandom to request for but I’ve been craving some new content for Freminet x reader

———————————————————————

Imagine;

Frem is arriving to a tent he set up after he just went diving but sees a pile of shells appears beside. He doesn’t question much of it and pockets some. Next time he goes diving it appears again, and then again, etc. Of course he’s confused but doesn’t worry about it to much seeing as if the person was trying to harm him he figures they wouldn’t waste an entire month collecting shell for him.

Eventually he ends up having to make a quick stop to his tent because he ran out of space to carry items, and that’s when he sees it. Something that he didn’t know even existed before (be it something simple like a mermaid or maybe a shark hybrid? Up for you to decide!) to say he isn’t interested is a lie!

———————————————————————

Im actually going to end the idea right here because I’m quite interested to see what you come up with next!

I haven’t gotten a chance to check when/how long it might take for you to respond to requests so for now I’ll just be stalking your page every so often to see! >:3

tysm!!!! this request is actually so cute btw

With a grunt, Freminet pulled himself out of the clear blue ocean waters. The sun was beating down, giving the liquid an almost lustrous quality, and reflecting off of anything that cared to shine.

He walked over to the mustard yellow tent he'd set up a few hours ago as water dripped from his suit. He reached down to pull the zipper open, looked around to ensure there weren't any bugs about to get in, and --

Oh? What was that?

Sat just beside the zipper was a pile of pearlescent shells. Beautiful, but slightly strange, since those most definitely weren't there when he left in the early morning to go diving.

Though he would normally have been scared off, thinking the shells were left as a warning, there was a sort of comforting aura emanating from the shells. Instead of a sign of danger, he knew they were a sign of protection.

Unsure of what to do with them, he carefully picked them up and gently placed them inside the tent.

--

What was this man trying to do? You had clearly left the shells out as a message to convey your interest in whoever that trespassing cute diver was. Was he playing hard to get? Maybe he was waiting for you to collect more, to show that you really liked him. That must be it.

--

The next morning, Freminet woke up to an even larger pile of shells sat outside his tent's door. Maybe they had just been washing up? He kicked them to the side as he stepped back onto the dew-soaked grass and into the strangely beautiful waters.

Day after day, shells appeared at his tent. Generally they were placed near the door, sometimes they were carefully arranged on top of it, and occasionally they were set inside.

That first day must have been a fluke... these are clearly being left as a warning...

The day after he came to that conclusion, he set out on what he decided was to be his last journey in this section of the ocean. Though he was completely invested in the palace-like architectural monument he had been exploring, whoever lived there clearly didn't want him there.

--

You swam in circles around your mossy stone room. Did he really dislike you that much? You wondered if you had done something wrong, something to offend him.

Shaking your head, you decided that this would be your last attempt at talking to him. You swam to the pile of shells that you had collected the night before, then with determination set in your face, began to swim back up to the surface.

--

Oh Archons. He had forgotten his waterproof Kamera, hadn't he?

Freminet had decided to document as much of the stone palace as he could before he left. Which was why he was currently swimming back up to his tent, since he had somehow forgotten his Kamera, the only tool he actually needed.

The moment his helmet broke the surface, a wave of panic set in.

Who was that? Scratch that, what was that? A water lizard?

"I'm sorry for trespassing! Um, please forgive me! I'm leaving now!"

--

You turned around, mid-shell placement, to find the cute diver boy floating behind you. Finally!

"Don't be sorry! Wait, can you take off your helmet?"

"Um, sure..." The boy shyly reached up to pull the iron bubble off his head.

A faint blush spread across your bluish cheeks despite your best efforts. His soft blonde hair... the coral-lavender eyes... no way his real face was even cuter?!

"You can come up here, if you like!" you called to him. He nodded, and pulled himself onto land, sopping wet.

"So, Mr. Diver - what's your name?"

"F-Freminet..."

"Freminet. I'll be blunt here - why don't you like me?"

"Um! What?" Freminet (even his name was cute!) looked caught incredibly off-guard.

"You've been ignoring all my advances. Whenever I try to give you shells, you either take them into the tent without doing anything or kick them away. You haven't even left me a rejection note!"

"Advances...?" Something clicked in his eyes as he tried to avoid yours. "Uh, I didn't really consider you were trying to, um, flirt with me..."

"How? Do humans not do collection-courting?"

"Not really..." He was starting to sink into himself. Not on your watch!

You strode over to him, trying to exude confidence you only halfway had. You wrapped your scaly tail around his back, and his entire face turned red.

"Then, you're interested?"

He opened his mouth and tried to stutter out an answer, which failed, so he simply nodded his head.

"Wait, actually?" You stepped back and felt your face heat up. No, you were supposed to be the one making him blush!

"Yeah..."

With a squeal of joy, you threw your arms around him. You were completely out of control right now, and you weren't hating it!

"Hey, um, if you don't mind me asking... for, um, you guys, do the shells have, like, a meaning?" He turned away immediately, like he regretted asking.

"Well, traditionally, it's a sort of marriage proposal..."

"Ah?!"

[johnwickb1tsch]

you’re the worst thing (i’m addicted to)

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here...

Part 1.

“Hey, Hels.”

There is no answer, only the warbling of a bird in a distant tree. The day is bright and blue, spring has come again in all her glory. It doesn’t seem right, somehow, that the sun should still shine, and the birds should still sing.

Because she is gone.

It’s been two years, but you still haven’t really wrapped your head around it.

You still have your last text message thread with her in your phone. It’s as though you could just punch a few buttons and still talk to her. Always, she would answer you, no matter what she was doing. Sometimes you want to type in I miss you and hit send, just to see what might happen.

But then, maybe it is appropriate, that today should be such a beautiful day. On this day, forty-two years ago, your sister was born. Roughly ten years later, you followed. As a direct result, your mother died of complications in childbirth.

Your father still blamed you, but Helen never did.

In a way, Helen was your mother, more than the woman who bore you.

It makes it all hurt so much more.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

You look down at the stone, this massive granite behemoth. You find it rather ugly, to be honest, but it will certainly stand the test of time, nuclear war notwithstanding. Loving Wife, reads the epitaph below.

You know it was true.

You know that perhaps John Wick is the only person Helen loved more than you. But the inscription still seems too brief. Short changing her, somehow. 

But then, John paid for the stone, so you suppose he got to pick what it said. 

You were ensuring her memory lived on in other ways. 

“I finally did as you asked,” you tell her. “I’ve used the photos you left me in a painting. We're going to be in a show together. I wish you were here to see it.”

There is a mean part of you that suspects your submission was only accepted because it contained work from the late, great, photographer Helen Morgan-Wick, but you shove that down into the seething pit with all the rest of your fears and doubts. You didn't use them for the attention. You did it to feel close to her, and because she asked you to. One final art project, the note had said. She knew you too well, knew that the only thing that kept you from toeing the line of the abyss was a good artistic obsession.

You knew she’d planned to leave a project for John too. A puppy, she’d said. You’d shared a laugh over it, through tears, the last time you’d been together. You never found out how that had gone. John hadn’t attended a family gathering since Helen passed.

Too painful.

You didn’t blame him one bit. 

“I miss you, Hels. I feel so lost without you.”

“Amen.”

The sound of another voice behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You turn to find him, in one of his signature tailored black suits, looking unfairly scrumptious despite the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't made a sound in his approach. He never did. The man moved like a ghost and looked like a dark dream. You'd always found him insanely attractive.

You'd never done anything about that, of course. But goddamn, you had eyes.

“Hi, John.”

“Hello, y/n.”

You’ve never run into him at the gravesite before, though you have seen the wilted offerings of daisies left by the stone, and you always had assumed they’d come from him. You haven’t seen him since Helen’s funeral. He hasn’t changed much, really, though there is a sharpness to his aspect you’d never noticed when Helen was alive. An edge to his gaze; how can eyes so dark convey so much? Despite yourself, it sends a little thrill down your spine that you absolutely know you should not revel in.  

Maybe you haven’t seen him in person after Helen passed, but you’ve gazed at him plenty through Helen’s lens. There had been so many photographs of him in the collection of prints she’d left you. Nothing risqué, but the way he’d looked at her even through the camera had been nothing less than intimate.

There were times, late at night in your studio, when you’d pretended he’d been looking at you that way.

“How…have you been?” 

He offers a grim shadow of a smile and a shake of his head that you understand all too well. 

“Nice to be with someone you don't have to pretend with.”

“Yeah.”

You both stare down at the grave, meditating on your loss of this woman who touched you both so completely.

“Do you think she can hear us?” you ask, unable to lift your voice above a whisper.

There is a long pause from her widower, the man she left behind.

“Not really.” He lifts his face to the sun, eyes closed, as though maybe he can feel something of her presence. “But you should talk to her anyway. I might be wrong.”

You smile at that.

“Do you ever talk to her?”

“All the time,” he admits with a huff of self-deprecating laughter. “But then, I might just be losing my mind.”

“Ah well. That makes two of us then.”

You gently lay down the bouquet of Gerber daisies you'd brought for her. Helen’s favorite. If you ever have a garden, you will plant some for her. As it is, you have to buy them from the store. You remember the patch of daisies she’d cultivated in the garden of your childhood home. Their cheerful faces and soft petals. They had been your mother’s favorite too. When you were a girl Helen would sing to you and braid them in your thick hair. You couldn’t know at the time, how precious those perfect days had been.

The wave of sorrow hits you like a freight train, the weight of your loss a crushing force. You start to cry, hiding your face in your hands; you would prefer to do this alone, but you cannot stop it.

You feel an arm about your shoulders. It surprises you—John was never a touchy-feely man, never one for hugs, always preferring a wave or a handshake. Only for Helen, did he ever display any sort of affection. They had always been touching, holding hands or sitting hip to hip on the couch, his strong arm slung protectively around her shoulders. You didn’t want to say you’d been envious of that, but…perhaps you’d wondered, what it might be like, to be so cherished.

When he pulls you against him you only manage some token resistance. “I’ll mess up your suit.” You sound pitiful, even to you.

“I have an excellent dry cleaner.”

His dry wit had always amused you. This time, it breaks you, and you give in. He is solid as an oak, and as it turns out, his chest is an excellent place to cry on. Under the shelter of his chin you wring yourself dry, until it feels like you have nothing left inside you. His large hand rests lightly upon the back of your head, shielding you from the world. He is warm, and his cologne is subtle but heavenly. Sandalwood, maybe, and something spiced. Cardamom, perhaps. A hint of pepper.

You don’t particularly want to move, even though you absolutely should. Yet his hold on you has not loosened, and you tell yourself that maybe John Wick needed a hug just as badly as you did.

“People keep telling me that it gets easier, and I just want to punch them in the face,” you sniffle.

A huff of laughter escapes him. You feel it stir your hair on the top of your head. “Yeah. I get that.”

Finally you pull back, though not as far as you should. You’ve never actually been this close to him before, and you look at each other from a foot away. Sometimes proximity can shatter the illusion of someone’s attractiveness—but not this man. The impossible angle of his cheekbones, the soft scruff of his beard…is it just you, or does the edge in his gaze soften a little, when he looks at you? It makes your legs a little weak, and you kind of hate yourself for it.

It has nothing to do with you, stupid, you tell yourself. Where you and Helen weren’t exactly twins, you did resemble each other strongly. In profile, you’d been mistaken for her in public plenty of times before. If anything, it was probably unnerving for this poor man who missed his wife so much, to hold you, a sorry facsimile, in his arms. Out of pity, most likely.  

Helen had been the good sister. The upstanding one, the kind one. You? You can be such a twisted little thing.

“Sorry,” you sigh, noticing the smudge of makeup on his lapel.

He doesn’t even glance down, that intense gaze still fixed upon you. “Don’t be.”

Unbidden heat blooms from your cheeks to your toes, finding yourself the subject of that gaze. You’ve got to go, before you really embarrass yourself.

“I'll leave you alone. It was nice to see you, John.”

You turn to go, hugging yourself against the early spring chill. Why did you have to feel so bereft, without his arms around you? You take a few steps before he calls after you, “Y/n?”

You freeze in your tracks, a thrill jetting down your spine. “Yeah?” you dare, turning to half look over your shoulder.

“I…was thinking about going to Helen’s favorite restaurant tonight. Would you like to join me?”

Your heart beats double time in your chest, as you slowly turn to face him. You should say no. There’s a thousand reasons you should say no. This was your sister’s husband. It doesn’t matter that he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and that he’s been kind to you, and that he’s looking at you like he might drown if you say no.

“I would like that,” you answer, and your heartbeat thundering in your ears sounds like the hammering of nails into your own coffin.

Part 2

[northlt03]

There are five parts to this story. Five people. Like the points of a star. Five stories. Four families. Five very, very traumatized kids. Though they weren't just kids at the end of it, that's how they started.

Regulus doesn't know when it all went wrong. When everything went to the dogs. Maybe it was when he begged Kreacher to leave without him. Maybe it was when he stepped into the cave with a fake locket in hand. Maybe it was when the Dark lord asked for Kreacher specifically. Maybe it was when he got the mark burned on his arm, more of a brand than a tattoo. Maybe it was when James Potter left and all the light seemed to leave his world. Maybe it was when his brother left their home. Maybe it was before that, when they were just kids. Maybe his tragedy was written far before he was born.

Whatever the reason. He was the first to die. Certainly not the last.

So he should be the narrator. It's something poetic, he thinks. The dead watching over the living. He was the first to go and like idiots, his friends followed.

The first time Regulus Black met Evan and Pandora Rosier, he was four. Sirius was five and disruptive already. He could never sit still. Evan and Pandora could.

And though four year old Regulus held his brother in the highest regard, he also wished for peace and quiet sometimes. He was also a rule following little shit. So if his mother said he had to get to know the children of other pureblood families, that is what he intended to do.

Regulus was fascinated by Evan and Pandora the first time he met them. There was just some other-worldly quality to them. As if they hadn't been meant to live on Earth at all.

And though they shared the same features with the rest of their family- meticulously styles blond hair and blue eyes, they didn't look like they quite belonged there either.

Evan Rosier had always been an enigma, someone entirely impossible to miss even if one was trying. And believe him, at first, Regulus tried. If Pandora was the rose, Evan was the bush. Guarded, prickly, but once he opened up, there was no telling when he would shut up.

Regulus grew fond of his annoying rants about any and every topic.

They never did talk about their parents. that was a forbidden topic. What happened in a family stayed in a family. No matter how close the Rosiers and the Blacks were, no matter if they were actually related.

Evan saw the marks on Regulus' pale skin. Regulus saw Evan flinch when his father raised his voice. Pandora saw Regulus shrink into the corner. Regulus saw her dissociate when it all got too much.

Pandora Rosier, named after a tragedy. She had told him the myth behind her name the first time they met. It felt jarring having a four year old casually say something so tragic without blinking. Regulus grew to like her queer habits, her strange stories and her ways.

Like Regulus, their paths were set in stone. Evan would grow and have to take over from his father. He would be betrothed and marry whichever pureblood his parents chose for him.

Regulus found cracks in his acts sometimes. His father did too. Little flinches, little frowns and scowls. He never spoke up, never said anything, but made it abundantly clear he never wanted any of that.

Pandora would have to marry some pureblood as well. The best suitor their parents could find, anyone that could strengthen their ties and keep their blood pure. She had suggested getting married to Regulus once as a joke and the three of them laughed all afternoon long.

Regulus knew he wasn't normal by the time he was seven or eight. When his eyes lingered on the boys his age at the balls. He would sail though the room with Pandora in his arms, trying his best not to step on her toes as they danced. But his eyes would seek out others. Even Evan at a point (they laughed about it later when they got older).

Regulus had known about the Dark Lord far before he stepped foot into Hogwarts. The wizard was like a dark shadow over him and his family. But merely a shadow, or so Regulus thought when he was younger. A boogey man in the shadows parents told children about to scare them into obedience.

As such, before he was eleven, Regulus had only known one type of people. The ones like his family. Pureblood, racist, rich assholes his brother despised so much.

It had been made abundantly clear to him that he wasn't his brother and he should never even try to be. After the disappointment of him getting sorted into Gryffindor, his parents had started to give up him.

Which still left Regulus in their clutches.

Regulus met Barty Crouch Jr in the line to get sorted. With their names so close in alphabetical order, they ended up right after one another.

But there was something that transcended their meeting. Something inevitable. Like two stars hurtling toward each other across the universe, finally exploding in a fiery supernova.

Barty Crouch jr was insane. That is the first impression Regulus remembered having of him. Even though he was a pureblood, Regulus had been told by his parents he was of the lesser kind. His father, a muggleborn sympathizer, which made him of the same category as the muggles. Filthy and disgusting.

Regulus tried to limit their interaction. But it was impossible to ignore Barty. Not because he had something profound to say or because he was magnetic. But simply because he talked a lot.

It was sometimes like he stole all the light in the room he walked into and put it over himself until there was nothing else to see but him. Until people had no choice but to look at him.

Regulus despised that about him at first. He and Evan gossiped under their covers about him in their first year after they had all been sorted together.

Just because they were all in one dorm did not necessarily mean they would have to be friends. So Regulus and Evan stuck together, with Pandora who would walk over from her Ravenclaw table over to their Slytherin one occasionally.

Barty tried to force his way into their little group, but they were pretty tight knit. Evan took his hatred for Barty Crouch jr as seriously as his father's for muggles.

Until one day when a girl sitting next to them laughed.

Regulus had first thought of Dorcas Meadowes as someone unimportant solely because she wasn't one of them, not from a pureblood family and not rich and certainly not a blood purist.

Sometimes, he thought he wouldn't be who he was if it wasn't for Dorcas Meadowes. She was witty and charming, quick to bite back and poke fun. She never took their insults to heart, going so far as to insult them back.

Pandora befriended her first. Then Evan who got dragged into it by his sister and then eventually, yes, even Regulus.

Barty Crouch jr was the first boy Regulus ever kissed. He promptly turned around and walked out of their dorm the moment they separated, his heart beating so fast in his chest he had thought it would fall out.

He hated Barty, like Evan did. Hated him because he did things like that, wrapped Regulus around his finger with pretty words and batting his eyelashes and then kissed him. He hated Barty because he pulled Regulus deeper and deeper into a hell Regulus knew he couldn't escape.

It was second year when Regulus first saw Barty with a bruise on his jaw that he wasn't bragging about. He was quiet, which was uncharted territory for Barty. And so, despite all his common sense telling him not to, Regulus became friends with Barty.

Dorcas never bought into the whole blood supremacy, her parents weren't like theirs. Regulus was so jealous of her, though he'd never admit that aloud. Dorcas didn't have to pledge her allegiance to the dark lord, never had to suffer through dinner with families like his, never had the fear that perforated every single inch of Regulus.

Regulus and Evan had to join. They had no other choice. It was allegiance or death. It caused the first rift between them and the girls. Barty, Regulus still thinks, just joined to defy his father. Or it might have something to do with the longing glances he shared with Evan, their silent beds at night, almost as if spells had been cast to keep eavesdroppers away, their clandestine meetings, their disshelved looks as they emerged from rooms alone.

In any case, knowing their story doesn't change the ending. Regulus still lost the love of his life. He still went against the dark lord. He still died. All for nothing.

The last time he saw Evan Rosier, he had a feeling his best friend knew. Evan kept the conversation going, bringing random topics as if desperate to keep Regulus talking to him, as if that could delay the inevitable, as if he could steal time to keep his best friend a little longer.

Regulus lingered in his doorway a moment longer than needed.

The last time he saw Pandora, he sobbed in her arms. He clung like she was the only constant in his life. He sobbed in her arms like she was who Sirius was supposed to be for him.

And she held him without complaint. She sobbed with him, begging him not to go.

Regulus did not linger in her doorway.

If there was anyone who could have convinced him not to do what he was planning to, it was her.

The last time he saw Dorcas, they had a fight. Regulus wanted to shake her by her shoulders. I'm going to die. He wanted to yell at her. I'm going to die, please don't let these be my last words to you. Please don't remember me like this.

Coward, she called him.

The word replayed in his head all the way to the cave.

I'm trying to be brave. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell James.

The last time he saw Barty, they got drunk. Just two kids, laughing and giggling among themselves. Regulus was tempted to tell him what he was going to do. He didn't.

He'd find out from the papers like the others.

Barty, eyes half lidded, that troublemaker smile on his face that Regulus had hated at first, sat back and pulled out a box from his pocket.

I'm going to ask him to marry me. He said. I don't care if the preacher doesn't marry us, I'll carve his heart out for Evan. I'll carve my own out for him.

Barty was just the sort of deranged who actually would.

Regulus lingered in his doorway, staring at a passed out Barty. He walked back in, kissed his hair, closed the ring box in his hand and put it back in his pocket before he left.

Barty didn't ask Evan to marry him. Not after Regulus never came back to them. Not after they both kept waiting for their star.

Dorcas wailed like Regulus had never heard her. She clutched her chest, her lover holding her like she could protect her from the evils of the world. And Dorcas collapsed in her arms.

And Regulus knew they were all broken far before that day.

Pandora didn't cry. She didn't laugh from that day on either.

Evan died next. A battle that too. Just the sort of dramatics Barty loved. Regulus watched it all play out.

Barty was too headstrong, too obsessed with going against his father, even if it meant being on opposite sides of the wand.

He was angry, so angry. He didn't know how Regulus died, or what he died doing. Maybe he thought Regulus died because of the other side. Whatever the reason, he took his anger out on others, on anyone not Death Eaters.

He was grinning one moment, using the Cruciatus curse on some ministry employee. He was laughing, oh gods, what had they come to?

He looked away, searching for the love of his life. Evan was halfway across the room, locked in a duel with Alastor Moody. Evan was a strong wizard, Barty knew, so he laughed when Evan blasted the guy's face, blowing nearly a chunk of his face off.

Moody had lost and eye, Barty was so proud of his lover, and Evan laughed as he looked at Barty.

Evan had a ring in his pocket now. Barty's was in a box full of Regulus' things. Maybe in another life, Evan could have asked him only for Barty to pull his ring out. They'd cry and laugh as they slid their rings on.

Instead, in the split second it took for Evan to look at Barty, in love, distracted, Moody sent a killing curse. It hit him straight in the chest. Evan was dead before the grin was wiped off Barty's face.

Dorcas died next. She never did talk to Barty ever again. Not when he came sobbing on her doorstep, on his knees. He lost everything. And so had she.

Marlene had just been killed the week before. Barty pleaded and begged, told her it was Peter Pettigrew who killed her. Dorcas did not believe him.

The Dark lord himself had to kill her.

And then there were two.

Pandora died soon after. Regulus was glad she at least got to have a husband, someone she loved. Her parents were dead, her brother also gone, and her best friends. All dead. She had a daughter, a small bundle of joy with hair so blond it was almost white and with the same curiosity in her eyes Pandora always had.

It was good. Until one day it wasn't.

And Barty was left alone, to wander for years. The only one left.

He didn't join them in the after life. But the Dementor kiss isn't what stole his soul. He had died far before his mortal body did.

He died when Regulus did. He died when Evan did. He died when Dorcas did. And he died when Pandora did. So when it was his time to leave. There was nothing left in him.

[listofwhyyouloveher]

CAN YOU WRITE ANGST WHERE YOU BREAK UP WITH YOUR GREASER BOYFRIEND OR GREASER BOYFRIEND BREAKS UP WITH YOU AND KINDA LIKE HOW THEY WOULD REACT?? SORRY IF THIS HARD TO UNDERSTAND😭🤚

Summary: Breaking up with your greaser boyfriend Warnings: Mentions of break up, toxic behavior, angst Author's Note: sorry for not posting yesterday, drove to LAX to pick my friend up! PONYBOY CURTIS To be honest, he's not big on relationships, he's more focused on his family and, as selfish as it seems, himself. It's a shock to both of you when you start dating, more of a whirlwind of puppy love than anything mature. Of course, that means the relationship was doomed from the start. It was less bickering than just slowly growing apart, your relationship seemed to be sweet, but genuinely you two were better set off as friends, at least for now. There was no heated argument that broke you two up, just the drunken acknowledgement of the fact that you weren't really a couple, just close friends. It ended shortly after that, and you two are still friends, often joking about the 'dating' period. JOHNNY CADE Johnny is not emotionally ready for a relationship, especially if you expect anything from him. He's ok with having the title, being branded as a couple, but the effort is too draining for him. It was aparent from the start that you wouldn't get much out of the relationship other than a tie to Johnny, however you were willing to try and pull him from his shell.

But to no avail. You broke up with Johnny, pushing it off as just wanting to focus on yourself. Johnny knew why, but he didn't dwell much on it. Just asking if you would like to stay friends. SODAPOP CURTIS Sodapop is very very very egocentric. He's always got girls trying to hang around him, he's got his gang which makes him feel tuff and would always hype him up to do the wrong things (much to Darry's displeasure). So, of course, he has to have a girl that matches his big status. He wanted a girlfriend because he was tired of all the girls on his back. However, you were under the impression that he was truly into you. It was clear that he wasn't when you overheard him talking to Steve about it. You were mortified and broke up with him on the spot. He found that, although he was a 'tuff greaser', it seriously hurt him. STEVE RANDLE Steve is also very egocentric, but he's got more respect for ladies so your relationship was not started on such a sour note. It was instead because of his sense of responsibility. He saved you from getting jumped by a bunch of socs and when you confessed to him, (truly not expecting anything to come out of it) he immedietly recipricated, even if he really didn't. You could tell he was distant, so you broke it off quickly, explaining that he didn't have to recipricate and that you just wanted to get it off your chest. You two are still quite close today. TWO BIT MATHEWS Two is a gentleman, when he isn't drunk of course. He tried hitting on you when you were both drunk and one thing lead to another and suddenly you were stone cold sober with a relationship in your hands. You explained that you were piss drunk and that you weren't actually ready for a relationship that started so oddly. He agreed and so you two went your seperate ways for a couple of days. However, this had such an impact on the both of you that a week later you two went on a couple of dates, and then eventually in a happy relationship. DARRY CURTIS Darry has always tried to keep his girlfriends happy, but he hadn't been in a relationship in a while. Ever since he left highschool and college he'd been single.

Of course he was so struck by your beauty and personality that he tried to pull together a relationship with you, he tried his best, truly he did but he was stuck doing too much to focus on you and your relationship. You ended things on a bittersweet note, telling him that although you loved him a lot, you needed someone who could actually pay attention to you. Darry promised that when he could, he'd come back to you and would pursue you again. DALLAS WINSTON Dallas Winston doesn't give a damn about relationships after Sylvia. He's just as likely to spit on the ground you walk on than to drunkenly hit on you and try and score some action. He's actually not quite sure why you two are in a 'relationship', he doesn't remember how it happened, why or anything related to it. To be honest he was probably drunk. You, of course, broke up with him, he's an asshole with little to no care for others. He almost doesn't give two shits if not for the fact that YOU broke up with HIM, usually its him that breaks it off so he's making sure your feelings are as hurt as his ego is.

[the-badger-mole]

Worst Cooks in the Nation

It was strange having a school rivalry somehow spin out of control and become fodder for a reality competition series, but that is exactly where Katara and Zuko now found themselves. After culinary school, they had gone on to become big names-Katara with her globally popular online cooking show and Zuko with his first restaurant earning three stars in it's opening year. They were prepared to never see each other again after graduation, but someone-Katara suspected her friend and Probending promoter Toph, while Zuko smelled his uncle's interference- had gotten into the ear of the executive of the food and travel network who had approached Katara to syndicate her cooking show. She had somehow gotten word of the intense rivalry between Chefs Katara and Zuko- along with some video that neither of them had known existed- and it had given her a brilliant idea.

The woman talked fast, and neither Katara nor Zuko knew how, but by the end of the meeting, they had agreed to two seasons of Worst Cooks in the Nation. The regret set in immediately.

"So..." Katara said, as they walked through the parking lot towards her car.

"Yeah..." Zuko agreed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Who even took those videos in the first place?"

"Probably Chan," Katara said scowling. "That guy would mind any business that wasn't his own."

"I remember," Zuko's face twisted into something like a grimace. "Still, who records an onion chopping contest?" Katara stopped walking and looked up at Zuko incredulously.

"Chan!" She rolled her eyes. Zuko gave a weak chuckle.

"I guess he's the one who filmed you dumping that salad dressing on my head," he said. "Or that time I let your stone lobsters loose."

"Yeah, why was that guy so obsessed with filming us?" Katara made a face. Zuko shuddered and shrugged. This was new, he mused. Just having a regular, if slightly awkward conversation with Katara.

It had been years-five of them to be exact- since they had seen each other face to face. The bitter rivalry they'd let simmer through 4 years of culinary school had at the end boiled over in a frothy mess. They hadn't spoken a word of the mess they'd made at the end. The small bit of awkwardness between them was a nice surprise, all things considered.

"We're going to keep this competition friendly, right?" Katara asked. She looked up at Zuko with her wide, earnest eyes, tugging at her lip with her teeth. Zuko drew his hands behind his back and clasped them together tightly.

"We're almost thirty," he said. "I think we're past food fights and insults...right?"

"Right!" Katara agreed with alacrity. They walked along in silence for a while, passing row after row of cars.

"What about... that other thing?" Katara asked. She didn't meet Zuko's eye this time. She kept her gaze firmly on the ground a few feet ahead of them.

"The...other thing?" Zuko was grateful for the dim lighting of the parking lot. He could feel the back of his neck heat up.

"You know...we never talked about it, but..." Katara glanced up at him from the corner of her eye. Zuko was glad that she was walking on his left. The scar on his face would make the spectacular blush on his face less noticeable at least.

"We rarely talked about anything," Zuko said with what he hoped was believable nonchalance. "It was shouting matches or silent treatment with us."

"Then why did you kiss me?" Katara asked. Zuko froze midstep. He swallowed once, twice. Three times before he could form words.

"If I recall, you kissed me first," Zuko said. Katara's head snapped up, all the shyness was gone. She scowled at him.

"No," she said. "You definitely kissed me. I remember you were all up in my space, and I was against the counter at my work station and then you leaned in and kissed me." Zuko remembered that almost the same way, only in his recollection, Katara had leaned up to close the space between them. Then his arms had gone around her waist and hers had wound around his neck.

"I remember you holding onto me," he said quietly. "And pulling me back in when I tried to pull away."

"Are you saying I forced you?" Katara demanded. Zuko smirked at that. He could see the flush on her dusky cheeks, and realized maybe the red on his own face wasn't as unnoticeable as he'd hoped.

"No," he said. "I don't remember kissing you first, but I remember wanting to." Katara's eyes went wide, and her blush got hotter.

"Oh," was all she said. Zuko took a breath, shut his eyes.

"It was a long time ago," he told her.

"Yeah," Katara looked down at the ground. "I-I guess it was. I'm not even sure why I brought it up. It's just...if we're going to be working together, we should be on the same page, right?"

"Right," Zuko agreed.

"So...we're doing this?" Katara asked. "Reality TV competitions can get ugly."

"I promise, we'll keep it clean," Zuko said. "No food fighting. No below the belt insults. No...doing anything unfair."

"Smack talking's still allowed?" A half smile tugged at Katara's mouth, and Zuko resisted the urge to catch it with his own. There would be no doubts who would be the initiator here.

"I insist on it," he said. "I can admit it now, but your smack talk is pretty funny. It'll make for good TV." Katara's half smile grew into a full blown grin.

"Alright," she said. "Let's give them a show."

Based on the Bot Plot AU I wrote in Part 1

[changingplumbob]

Just a note to say Drusilla is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns.

Glenn walked over to the large tower. Jackson and Coleman had really made all those bricks on top of the ones for the houses? No wonder they were so cranky, it was a lot of work. Expecting the inside to be plain stone he was pleasantly surprised to see it furnished in a similar fashion to the living spaces of the houses with wood panels on the walls, a lot of books, and some comfy couches.

Glenn: Ummm, Drusilla? Are you... here?

The response came from somewhere above him.

Drusilla: For you, I suppose so, if you have something to offer. Up the ladder

Glenn turned and noticed the ladder leading upwards. Well he hadn't got his workout in today so he supposed this would have to count. Testing how fast he could climb he reached the top easily and pulled himself on to the floor.

Drusilla: My time has a price Glenn, what do you want

Glenn: It's not me specifically, well I guess it is, but Phoebus said I should see you about learning some spells

Drusilla: *scoffs* You think you can manage what I do

Glenn: I don't actually know what you do

Drusilla: A lot, I've been at this a long time. How about necromancy

Glenn: Oh, no, I don't fancy bringing anyone back from the afterlife

Drusilla: *sighs* Why does everyone think that's what necromancy means? It's about communicating with spirits of the dead, completely different to reanimation

Glenn: Do you... reanimate stuff?

Drusilla: Some of the spirits enjoy a taste of life. For example, if a bird breaks it's neck I can make it a stable house for a spirit for up to a week

Glenn: Right, well, I don't think I'll be trying that out

Drusilla: Reading minds of others? It can be incredibly useful and often far easier than talking

Glenn: Uh, I'm going to say no again. I do actually enjoy talking

Drusilla: *huffs* What do you actually want to do then Glenn? I don't have time to figure it out for you

Glenn: Phoebus said you're the best at mischief magic, is there some kind of magic trick you can teach me? To keep me safe if I decide not to stay here

Drusilla: Why would I teach a trick? Although... I suppose some kinds of illusion spells could be helpful...

Glenn: What do you mean

Drusilla: What are the walls made of Glenn

Glenn: Uh, bricks on the outside, a lot of bricks. Then wooden paneling for the interior walls

Drusilla: Wrong. They are completely brick

Glenn: But the panels-

Drusilla: There are no panels Glenn. They're a self sustaining illusion I cast. I could teach you something similar, how to make it look like something is there or more useful, how to hide something from sight

Glenn: If it's not too dangerous

Drusilla: So long as you don't hide a dragon you're fine. Now, my fee

Glenn: Fee?

Drusilla: For my time. I'm doing some research on alternate universes. How they may interact, if there are ways to see others, contact alternate me's, that sort of thing. Heartbreak has been in short supply around here so I'll borrow some of yours, it can be a useful ingredient

Glenn: You'll borrow my heartbreak?

Drusilla: It's tied to you, so I'll just borrow a bit of you. Now, I best use it right away so you stay here and finish this gem for me

Glenn: Wait you're charging me and expecting me to do something for you?

Drusilla: If you ever want your hair colour back then yes

Glenn: What do you mean my hair colour?

Drusilla: An integral part of you is your hair, it holds a good portion of your essence and therefore the heartbreak. I've borrowed the colour

Glenn: Wait, are you saying-

Drusilla: Your hair is black right now? Yes

Glenn: But- but- I didn't feel anything

Drusilla: I'm just that good

Glenn: But I love my green hair! It makes me me, and looks good

Drusilla: Then I guess you'd better get on with the task I set if you ever want it back

Glenn: You can't just steal stuff like that

Drusilla: *scoffs* Maybe you can't but I assure you, I can. Don't worry, the spirits will tell me when you're done, then I'll return the colour

Glenn: But I don't know anything about gem carving

Drusilla: That sounds like a you problem. No time to learn like the present Glenn

Glenn watched Drusilla depart and felt his heart sink. They may be powerful but something told him he should stay clear of Drusilla in future if he could.

Drusilla: *yelling* That's not very nice

Damn, they did read minds.

Previous ... Next

[hyukaslvr]

SCREAM, baby! // j. wooyoung

<masterlist!!

warnings♱ knife play, mean dom! wooyoung, unprotected sex, creampie, pussy n tit slapping, spanking, rough handling. degradation (slut/whore), dumbification, cock-drunk reader, crying during sex n dacryphilia, missionary, cumming inside, cussing.

w.c♱ aproxx 5k

a/n♱ this is a repost of my day ‘8 kinktober post on my first blog that i had accidentally deleted (haha). i will eventually repost all of my fics, that me and my girlfriend tried very hard to find screenshots of or finding people who reblogged them(thank you so much if so). so no, this isn’t someone copying. look at this to see proof that im the original hyukaslvr, thank you!!

you had your whole halloween night planned, set in stone. you had your smart tv on ready to find scary movies to watch, popcorn and drink in hand, and on the couch instead of going out while there's a mask killer going around.

you got all settled down, remote in hand getting ready to scroll through multiple horror sections before finding the perfect thriller to play. a buzzing coming from your thigh makes you sigh, you know it was gonna be another one of your friends trying to convince you to go out tonight. your best friend was calling.

"wooyoung? what's up?" you say, picking at your salted popcorn before popping a good one in your mouth.

"hello, y/n." a different voice comes from the phone, you proceeded to choke on your previous piece of popcorn.

"who is this??" you resolved your choking by tapping your chest, now concerned who was on the line with you if it wasn't wooyoung.

"i have a better question," the man pauses, leaving you more worried than before. "what's your favorite scary movie?"

you didn't hear the following footsteps before screaming as the man covers your mouth with his gloved hand, knife pressing your throat.

"hi princess."

you found out about a week ago that wooyoung was the one going around, killing people coldly with his hands and knife. you found his bloody suit in his bag at a party you were at last weekend, right after another killing was done in the same house of the party. it was fresh, and stained your hands when you gripped the black cloak between your fingers. you hadn't talked to him since, you had to right to. you were scared, he was killing off your guys friends. you had the right to be scared, especially since you don't know his intentions towards you.

you slowly reached for the gloved hand that was holding your mouth closed, pushing your fingers through his before slowly pulling his hand to your chest. you looking straight ahead, scared to do anything else. it was wooyoung, how could he possibly hurt you?

"wooyoung, please put the knife down."

"and if i don't?" you tense up as he presses slightly harder against your skin. he rests his head on your shoulder, and you know who's looking right at you through the plastic mask.

"i don't know why you're doing this, but we can work things out."he laughs, standing completely up and forcing your chin upwards to look at him. "work things out? how could we possibly when i've gone too far?"

you pause, staring right up at the boy as he tilts his head to the side.

you were always scared to be too close to wooyoung, knowing what your heart would do to your feelings towards him. yeah, you liked him. you just didn't want to accept it. he was your best friend, you didn't want to ruin what you had. you've always found him attractive, but more recently you can't seem to be able to be around him with out heating up. so what did you do? you distanced yourself from him, from your whole friend group. he would constantly ask you what he did or what is wrong but you always just told him and the others that you were too tired to meet up.

you just had a even better excuse to ignore him by what you found about a week ago, and you staring at him makes you realize you definitely knew why he was here. it was definitely because of that.

"if it's because i ignored you, it was nothing you'd done." you flinch when he goes up your face with the sharp blade, tickling your flushed skin.

"is that so? then what was the reason to ignoring me, baby?" you shudder, him calling you names isn’t helping the fact that your heat was already sticking to your panties with just his hand on your chin and the angle you were staring at him.

"will you sit? I'll explain everything if you just, remove the knife pressing on me." you slowly let out, feeling the knife that was pressing down on you slowly leaving your neck. you closed your eyes as you hear hustling around you. your eyes opened wide when you feel your legs being forced open. you go to speak but stop when you feel the sharp tip against your stomach.

you gasp as you watch and feel the gloved hand reach for your shorts and yanks them down to your ankles. your cheeks burn when you look at the man sitting between your legs.

"let me taste you as you explain, wanna make my baby feel good" wooyoung speaks again, pushing your panties to the side to look at your pretty pussy. the feeling of his eyes watching you clench on nothing makes you want him so badly. he was testing your limits so much right now, you just wanted to rip that ugly mask off his sexy tan face and watch him eat you slowly.

"let me see you, please wooyoung," you whisper, he grabs your hand and tugs it for you to take it off yourself. your breath gets caught when you slowly raise the mask over his head. he's always so pretty. he doesn't give you much time to drool over him, leaving opened mouth kisses against the warmth of your inner thighs. you just knew you were drenched.

"wooyoung-" you gasp as you feel a gloved hand sliding up and down against your folds. your breath gets caught in your throat when he removes the knife from your stomach to hold you face down towards him.

"watch me."

he gives you swollen bud a peck before sliding his tongue up and down. your body arches off the bed, wooyoung loudly moaning between your thighs. his gloved hands reaching to grip any flesh he can grip on to, being your hips or your breasts. all he can hear are your pants of pleasure spurring him on. His tongue buried in your pussy while his nose nudges at your clit causing you to buck your hips towards his face.

you were almost riding his face at this point and that was how he wanted it. when you let out a loud moan of his name, your hand tugging harshly at his hair as he practically growls against your soft velvet like folds before looking up at you. his pupils blown out from lust like a man drunk because he was. you watch him struggle against your hand before you push his head towards your mouth, and he gladly pushes his lips harshly on yours, kissing you rough and practically eating your mouth.

he pulls away from your now puffy red lips, "fucking ignoring me, but now you're so needy for me?" wooyoung growls, hands reaching your boobs for his thumbs to pinch your nipples meanly. you whimpered softly. "oh, don't try to act pathetic now."

wooyoung moved his freehand down back to your cunt as he shoved two 01 his fingers into your hole, rough and fucking up into you. every single pump was joined by the wet noise of your cunt, your cunt leaking so much that you could feel your juices slide down your thighs and onto the couch.

wooyoung pinched your tit again, your responding whine loud. he punished your whine with a sharp slap to the underside of your tit. "fucking desperate little whore. was fucking ignoring me, but is so wet underneath me, slut desperate for a cock. is that it, baby? you a fucking slut?"

you bit down on your lip, eyes watering at the edges from the roughness of his touch and the harshness of his words. you loved it.

"i'm a slut, wooyoung, 'm sorry-"

he began to thrust three of his fat fingers into your pussy, "you're not fucking sorry," he hissed. his dark eyes were narrowed, their usual bright spark gone.

"i'm sorry-"

"no you're fucking not," wooyoung shot back, voice scratchy.

wooyoung ripped his hand from your cunt. you let out a cry, trying to buck your hips back up to his hand. he laughed meanly, and then he was slapping your thigh. "eager little slut," he said. wooyoung was smiling. "just wanted something in your little cunt, yeah? you're just so goddamn desperate-"

"want you," you sobbed, trying to reach for him. wooyoung pushed you back onto the couch, his hand pressing down on your shoulder and keeping you still. you couldn't help but stare at him, whimpering at the lust in his glaring eyes.

wooyoung moved to grab your hips. you immediately opened your thighs wide, letting him press against you. he lifted your lower half, fingers digging into your thighs. "opening your legs like a little whore in heat," he said, tilting his head, smirking. "that it, baby? you my little whore in heat, desperate for my dick?"

wooyoung released his grip on one of your thighs to run his hand along your cunt. the slide had you groaning, lashes fluttering and hips trying to seek out more friction. instead wooyoung moved his hand to your stomach, there he spread your slick over your skin.

"look at how fucking wet you are," he laughed. "fucking whore. so goddamn wet from me and my knife."

he used his free hand to grab his dick. wooyoung slapped the tip of his cock on your folds, making your legs shake. he moved closer, the tip of his dick rubbing against your pussy lips. you moaned, and then you were moving your hips, seeking more friction, trying to get his cock to slip in to where you needed it most.

"don't know if i should give it to you," he taunted, tongue poking out. his eyes were on your cunt, watching as he dragged the tip of his cock through your cunt, soaking it in your juices.

"what was it, baby? didn't need me? didn't need my dick?"

"need it," you sobbed. and you did. you needed his dick in you, needed him to shove his cock inside of you and fuck you. it was all you wanted needed. you needed him, needed jung wooyoung. then you bursted into tears. you weren't sad, weren't crying from anything bad. you were just so desperate. you wanted wooyoung, you wanted him, you wanted, you wanted, you wanted.

wooyoung sighed, and then he was fucking his cock into you. a loud cry escaped your mouth, and you arched your back up into him. wooyoung kept pressing, pushing his cock further and further. it stung, especially as his cock was fatter than even three of his fingers. you wanted it. you wanted his cock, wanted his dick and any pain that might have come with it.

"take it," he urged, slapping your thigh. "take my cock, baby. gotta take it all. you were so desperate for it, yeah? wanted it so bad? wanted it so bad you were gonna cry like a little fucking slut. so now you gotta take it'

"want it," you gasped. you let your mouth hang wide open, brows furrowed in pleasure from the sting of his cock forcing your walls to squeeze him.

"fuck me," you begged, using your legs to try and force him to fuck back into you. "fuck me, woo, fuck me."

wooyoung laughed, and then he was pressing his mouth to yours. you gasped, hands scrambling along his shoulders. he didn't kiss you as much as he fucked your mouth. then he snapped his hips in your cunt sheathing his dick in one movement. you cried out, teeth nipping at his mouth on accident.

wooyoung pulled away, using one of his hands to wipe at his mouth.

"gonna fuck your stupid cunt so good."

he went to his knees, keeping his lower stomach pressed to your ass. he gripped your thighs and, using them as anchors, began to fuck you. his hips slapped against you harshly, the sharp hits of his fucking making the skin where his hips met your ass sting, though this was drowned out by the pure lust of his cock striking deep within you.

"take it," he growled, pushing your thighs to your chest, eyes dancing over your figure. "take my fat cock in your tight little cunt, fucking take it, take it all."

wooyoung fucked you urgently, desperately. he kept adjusting your thighs and ass, searching for that one gummy spot in your cunt that would bring you pleasure. then, with a hard fuck into your pussy, he found it.

you shouted out, hands shooting out and grabbing at him. one of your hands found his hair and gripped it tight.

he was grabbed your hand and forced it to the bed, keeping you from touching him. "i said to fucking take it," he snapped. "fucking take my cock. you decided to fucking ignore me, decided to go behind my back. now you gotta lay there and take it like a slut."

you sobbed, nodding. wooyoung moaned, hips stuttering for a moment.he managed to control himself and continued, cock slamming against your core in a harsh rhythm. "fucking pretty," wooyoung grunted. "so fucking pretty when you cry, fuck-"

"fuck," he hissed, his hands moving to your hips and gripping you. wooyoung fucked you with earnest, using his strength to bring your cunt back onto his dick again and again. "fuck --"you cried, mouth wide open from pleasure. he was reaching so deep inside of you, dick reaching so fucking deep inside that you swore you could feel it in your throat. he was filling your senses, from his dick to his hands to his voice, and you felt like you were drowning in wooyoung.

"good girl," he growled, shifting his position. "am i making you feel good? huh? your woo's dick making your little pussy feel good?"

you sobbed out, wooyoung's hand left your hip, and then he was grabbing your hair. he forced your face to look at him, a loud gasp tearing from your throat at his roughness. "fucking speak," he demanded, hand leaving your hair to slap at your hip. "told you to fucking talk, baby. think you're too good to talk while i'm fucking your pussy?"

"no," you said sobbed. "no-just- woo-”

"what? fucking you so good you can't speak?" he laughed in mean tone, slapping your hip again. "use your words like a good girl. be a good girl, baby."

finally you managed something. your words came out in a slop. "good," you moaned, "fucking me sooo good!"

"fuck yes i am," he laughed, pushing his body and chest against yours. the change in angle had you squealing, driving your hips forward and forcing his cock further. wooyoung let out a strangled groan, nails digging into your skin. "fuck-baby-"

with one more harsh thrust at your gummy spot, you saw stars. your legs started shaking uncontrollably, staring down at the space between your body's and watching his dick drive into your cunt. throwing your head back gave his access to leave harsh kisses on your warm neck. you felt like he was sucking the soul out of you, feeling him so deep inside.

"woo-wooyoung! 'm cumming-!" your legs couldn't stop shaking, he takes your words as a sign to go harder and deeper than he was going before.

"oh fuck-" your world spins. screaming as your whole body shakes in release of your orgasm. wooyoung panting as he struggles against your cunt squeezing him so tightly, he couldn't help but release there and then.

you didn't notice the loud sirens blaring, surrounding your house with red and blue lights. wooyoung lets out a string of cusses, wincing when he pulls out of your dripping hole.

"wooyoung- don't leave me!" you grip his arm, and he looks down at you. a small smile spreads across his face.

"you know you can't get rid of me that easily, im not going anywhere." he leans down, gives your temple a gentle kiss before standing up and reaching for his belongings.

"i love you-" you struggle to stand, failing as you fall flat on the couch again. he giggles, grabbing your shorts and sliding them on you gently.

"i love you too, baby." he says, putting his arms down on the couch, pushing his lips against yours. you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting nothing but him to stay. but you know he can't.

he pulls away, knocking on the door and hollers coming from outside is his signal to leave quickly, walking to the back window. he looks back at your distressed body, smiling to himself before opening the window. he doesn't look at you again as he speaks,

"you know i'll be back."

[bagerfluff]

Lay With It Him

BotW Link x Male Reader

Prompt - Remember

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

It took a while for Link to make it to the forest. Link didn't know how to get there so he went back up the mountain and looked to see if he could find it from up high. Link found the forest then he rode back down the mountain and to the forest.

Link got to the forest right as the sun was starting to set. But Link didn't want to wait for the sun to rise so he entered the forest. The forest was like a maze. Twist and turns everywhere. Monsters around every corner. Link didn't know how long he went down a path just for him to realize he went down already.

Link was tired and bruised when he found a clearing in the forest. The only cover was the branches of trees that were multitube feet away. There was a rock, the moon was shining on the rock. But what caught Link's eye was a statue. It was a statue of a boy. He looked to be around Link's age.

When Link got closer he realized that he boy had a sword and a shield on his back. Like Link. When Link got even closer he recognized the face.

It was him!

Y/n!

Link found him. But what was wrong with him? Was he alive? What caused him to look like this? Did he choose this? Was he cursed? Link had more questions then answers. Link sighed. he found him. But did he? He couldn't talk to him. Link crawled on top of the rock and sat next to Y/n.

What could he do?

Maybe he should just leave. He got what he wanted. But he didn't get all of it. Link laid his head on Y/n's shoulder. Link closed his eyes. Y/n smelled like roses and freshly cut grass. It was then that Link felt something moved.

Link opened his eyes and saw that you were rubbing your eyes. How? you were stone just seconds ago. What happened? Did Link do this. "How long was I asleep?" you asked while turning to the guy next to you. Your eyes widened when you realized it was Link.

"Link?"

You whispered with tears brimming your eyes. The tears fell when Link pulled you in a hug. You hugged him back as tears fell from your eyes. He was back.

"I don't know you", Link started, tears also slowly falling from his eyes, "But I know I love you".

That's what he was feeling. Love. He loved you. He didn't know anything about you. But he knew he loved you. And that was all he needed. You guys spent a couple more minutes hugging until you pulled away. "How long was I asleep for?"

You asked. Link told you. Your eyes widened as you looked back to the path that Link came on. You pushed your self of the rock and looked towards Hyrule Castle.

"Their all dead" you said, with more tears brimming your eyes. Your friends, all of them, dead.

Expect Link.

You still had Link.

While Link rode you back to town he tried his best to explain what had happened when you were sleep. You were shocked when you heard it. Link had forgotten everything, but you remembered. Why? he tried to remember what happened before you fell sleep but you couldn't.

That was the only thing you didn't remember. It was weird. But that wasn't the main thing that you were worrying about. The main thing was Link. Hundred years ago you and him were dating. You were boyfriends.

But were you still?

You hadn't broken up, but Link didn't remember you. But he said he loved you. But how can you love someone you don't know? That you didn't know. But you and Link didn't speak of it. You both got into town, ate, slept in the inn, then Link asked you if you wanted to travel with him.

You said yes.

You couldn't say no, not to Link. But after a while of traveling you needed answers. Were you and Link still dating? At first you didn't want to over whelm him. He had a lot to remember. But you had to ask. The thought was keeping you up at night.

So one night, when the moon and stars shined upon you and the Hero of Hyrule. You asked him. "Hey Link?" You started, looking away from the food Link had made. Link looked up at you and nodded, telling you that he was listening.

"What are we?" You asked. Link looked confused.

You caught up on it immediately, over the years you could tell what Link was feeling just from his face a body language. "Hundred years ago we were dating", you stated, looking back down at your food "Are we still?" You asked with tears in the corner of your eyes.

You didn't want to lose Link, you loved him. More then anything. Hell, you found a way to stay alive and young for hundred years. But all of that could have been for nothing. Link looked down at his food before placing it down and moving closer to you. You looked up into his eyes. You always loved Link's eyes.

Blue was your favorite color. "I might not really know you", Link grabbed your hands and held them in his, "I'd like to get to know you". Link looked down at your hands.

"And I's like to date you. If you want to date me?" Link asked looking up at you with hope in his eyes.

Tears fell out of your eyes as he hugged Link, pulling him close, scared of losing him again.

"Of course. I'd love to date you" you whispered.

Link smiled and held you close. It might take time. But you too would get to know each other again. You loved each other. And they say that love can do anything.

Maybe even keep someone alive for hundred years.

[jerreeeeeee]

It was only a blur. A flash of a face. A familiar silhouette. The way the man moved as he walked away down the street. Barry almost hesitated, almost didn't turn around. It was hard to see in the waning evening light, and he could nearly remember someone teasing him about his bad eyes. A voice he couldn't hear. It slipped from his mind as soon as he tried to grasp it.

The man went into a tavern. Barry followed him. It was a loud and crowded place, swanky, not what he would've chosen. There was a big stone hearth with a roaring fire that lit the place warmly, a nicely polished bar, tables full of people. There was a pool table in the back, in a way that made a kind of sense to him, even though he didn't know why it felt right, like weird, comforting, and deeply unsettling deja vu. The man he was following hadn't gone back there yet, but he was eyeing it from his seat. Barry went to the bar, put down the gold for a room and a drink, and before he could think better of it, sat right next to him.

The man hardly spared him a glance, focused on tearing apart the meal in front of him. He ate like he was starving. Barry tried not to stare, but kept looking at him out of the corners of his eyes. His face was fuzzy and out of focus and almost seemed like someone Barry should know. His ears flicked back and he shot Barry a look. Caught, he tried to pretend like he'd been looking at the pool table.

The man finally looked up. He followed his gaze to the table. Looked back at him, up and down. Especially down. At his shoes. Then back at the table, and then finally met his eyes. "Hey," he said. "What's your name?"

"Barry," Barry answered. "What's yours?"

"Taako," he answered. The beginnings of a grin tugged at his face. "How's a game of pool sound?"

-

Barry wiped his mouth and set down his fifth beer. "This is it," he said. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna get this one."

"You're more fun than I gave you credit for, Bluejeans!" Taako hollered. He'd had just as much to drink as Barry, who, despite appearances, could apparently party. "But still not good at pool. Let's see it." He leaned back in his chair and smiled easily, and rested his feet on the edge of the pool table. Barry eyed his own boots enviously. He'd lost the first round. And the second. That was two chances for the two boots—no one ever said Taako was uncharitable (well, actually, many people had said that). But Barry was doing better this time, with his glasses on the line. And Taako was having fun.

There was a gaping hole where his heart should be, as long as he could remember. It wasn't filled now, certainly. It still hurt if he thought about it. But there was a small, fluttering warmth there that grew hard to ignore the longer he laughed with Barry. It had been a long time since he'd really talked to anyone. The banter between him and Barry was comfortable and easy. His laugh was rusty, but he couldn't stop it from bubbling up out of the warmth in his chest.

Barry aimed his cue, and in a rather impressive and familiar maneuver, the ball sunk. "Ha!" Barry crowed, and finished the beer. "Guess I'm not so bad!" He turned around to face Taako, who had, just a moment before, had every appearance of enjoying himself.

Taako was no longer laughing. "Who taught you how to do that?"

"Huh?" Barry asked, looking back at the table like it'd tell him what he'd done.

Taako rose angrily. "Hey, who the fuck do you think you are? Have you been following me or something?" That was his move. He'd invented it as a kid... at least, he thought so. He'd been using it for a long time, anyway. But he hadn't tonight. Now that he thought about it, Barry had been playing just like he usually did.

"What?" Barry asked stupidly.

"I'm done, man," Taako replied. "I don't—I'm leaving." Whether Barry was an overzealous fan or a family member priming him for a revenge murder, Taako didn't want anything to do with it. He'd thought he was far enough away, somewhere he'd never been before, halfway across the continent, but this just kept following him—

"Hey, what about my shoes?" Barry asked, starting to get angry as well.

"I won them, asshole!"

"We're in the middle of a game!"

"Too bad!"

"W-At least let me—look, I-I already spent all my gold on a room, but you can have it if you give me my shoes back," Barry said wretchedly. "I can't—I need shoes."

"Then you shouldn't have bet them," Taako said, but his anger dampened. The guy seemed genuinely bewildered, and anyway, Taako couldn't afford a room here. Or anywhere else. It'd been a long time since he'd slept in a bed. It wasn't nearly as good as gold, but a night's sleep... Couldn't hurt to leave it to chance. "Tell you what," he said, "we'll finish the game. If you win, I'll take the room, and you can have your shoes back."

Barry grinned. "You're on."

-

Barry eyed the ball, drinks forgotten. He kind of desperately needed a win. "So," he said, trying for conversational, "what'd you even get mad about?"

Taako, also, had given up on flippancy. "You were playing just like me. I thought you'd been watching me or something."

"I have been," Barry answered, and noticed Taako's shoulders stiffen. He blushed. "Not- not like that. We've been playing all night. And, I mean, not to say I'm giving up, but you're a lot better than me. I kinda need any pointers I can get."

"Yeah," Taako said. "That is true. Maybe that was it."

The balls clattered and the one Barry had aimed for bounced away from its pocket. "Fuck."

Taako took his place and aimed his cue. The table scattered and two balls sunk. Barry was facing down a tomorrow without shoes. The coin'd told him he only needed enough gold for the night, with extra just in case—but that was extra before all the beers, and the chicken wings, and the room at the nice, expensive inn with the pool table he'd followed Taako into on a whim. He didn't even really know why he did it. There was just something about Taako... something that made his chest ache less, just like the coin said.

The game went on late into the night. The other people in the tavern slowly trickled away, upstairs or out the door to cheaper inns, until the room was left dim and quiet. Barry's turns always took too long, but Taako never told him to hurry up. The balls clinked together and sunk into their pockets one by one, until Taako took his last shot, and his last ball disappeared. Barry stared despondently.

Taako stretched his arms above his head and yawned loudly. "Well, guess that's it," he said with finality, still wearing Barry's boots. "See ya."

"Good game," Barry said hollowly, and walked to the stairs on socked feet. He made it about halfway up before he realized Taako wasn't moving that way either, or leaving.

Taako sighed. "Hang on, Bluejeans." Barry stopped. "Alright, here. Take your shoes. I don't need them. It was enough just to kick your ass."

Surprised at the offer of mercy, Barry came back down, and Taako handed his boots back, looking away, toward the empty bar.

"Thanks," Barry said.

"Sure," Taako said. "Whatever. What the hell am I gonna do with your boots? I have to be nimble, dude, and they're clunky as hell."

Barry went to go back up the stairs, but something stopped him. Taako still didn't make to leave. His clothes were awful ragged, threadbare and patched. He was still looking out at the room, and his eyes rested on the fireplace, where the fire had burned down to warm embers. It was cold at night this time of year, wasn't it?

"You can stay in my room if you don't have anywhere else to go," Barry blurted before he could think.

Taako looked back at him. "What?"

Barry flushed. He might still be a little drunk. "I-it just seemed like you weren't leaving... If you have a room somewhere else, sorry, but I was-"

"Inviting me to your room?" Taako asked incredulously. "What, are we gonna cuddle? Or are you coming on to me?"

"No," Barry said, embarrassed, even though he could tell Taako was fucking with him. Somehow, he could tell. "I just—look, you don't have to, I just thought it'd be nice to offer. Better than nothing. And you gave me my shoes back, so fair's fair."

Taako glanced back again toward the door, and the fireplace. "Alright," he said slowly, like he was surprised at himself. "You know what, why not."

-

Taako wasn't all that impressed. For a nice inn, it wasn't much. The bed was large, but other than that the room was mostly empty, and still chilly. Drafty window. Bare wooden floors. Well, he had a decent bedroll, at least, and it wouldn't be nearly as cold in there as outside. Even so, for a moment he stared longingly at the thick blankets on the bed. Then he started unfurling his bedroll in the clear space on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Barry asked.

"Going to sleep, dude. Gotta get a full eight hours." Elves were supposed to meditate, but he wasn't able to. He didn't know why. He just knew most of them did it with other elves nearby.

"On the floor?" Barry asked. Taako looked at him quizzically and he stammered, "I-I mean, it's a nice place—the bed's pretty big, y'know? I wouldn't mind."

"Thought you said you weren't coming on to me," Taako said, half joking and half uncomfortable. Not for any reason, really. He was far more comfortable than he ought to be.

"I'm not!"

Taako opened his mouth to say, I'm not spooning with a stranger, but something deep in his subconscious told him that wouldn't be quite accurate. Some part of him felt at ease. Something about this guy had compelled him to give the shoes back. He’d never given the shoes back before. He couldn't imagine why he did this time. Someone who seemed kind wasn't to be trusted. And yet...

"God," he muttered to himself, "what the hell am I doing?" Then, out loud, "Fine!" And before he could think any more about it he crawled into bed. Well, he crossed from where the bedroll on the floor was laid out, over to the left side of the bed, against the wall. Barry sat down on the right. He was between Taako and the door. No easy escape. Why the hell had he gone to a particular side at all? It wasn't like he was used to sharing. It wasn't like he'd ever had anyone to share with, enough to have a side. Whatever. He blamed it on the alcohol. Actually, he was just gonna blame all of this weird situation on the alcohol. All this warmth spilling over inside his chest. Well, what was done was done. Even if he couldn't understand why he'd done it.

Besides, Barry was a heavy sleeper. Something made him certain of that.

"Touch me and I'll curse your ass," Taako warned.

"My ass is already cursed," Barry mumbled, face buried in a pillow. "'M lactose intolerant."

That sounded right. That sounded exactly right. He didn't know how he knew these things.

Taako laid back cautiously, more out of habit than anything. He should be expecting something. He didn't have anything worth stealing, really, but there were definitely people who'd want to kill him. He should be falling asleep expecting to have his throat cut in the night.

But Barry was already snoring, and for some reason that sound made his eyes so heavy. Barry was a solid presence at his back, between him and the door, and for some reason, that made all his tensed muscles relax for the first time in a long, lonely time. Partly from the shared blanket and partly from this other, confusing feeling, Taako felt warm. The last thing he thought before he drifted off was that there was a space between them, a space that Barry had very carefully left at his request. And he wished there wasn't.

-

When Barry woke up to midmorning sunlight streaming through the inn room's window, for a moment the weight in his chest was light, and he felt, for the first time in years, that maybe he'd finally found a piece of his shattered self. Then he looked beside him, and the space there was empty and long cold. The ache came thundering back.

But the sheets had definitely been slept in.