#till the end up poisoning what they love

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello! If you’re not very occupied could I request a Sebastian Solace x mutated female reader (Reader was there during the lockdown and looks similar to Sebs due to her mutations)?

Sebastian crashes into reader after they both spot a black light (sebs wants it for his little store, reader wants it cuz the squiddles are annoying af), so they squabble for a bit till it ends up turning into a play fight for it but accidentally scratch each other up and break the black light so they both go empty handed full of stinging cuts and scratches, then tend to each other’s injuries.

Would love it to be fluff with a pinch of angst! Platonic or romantic is fine with me!

"That's not fair, I found it first!"

'We both found it at the same time, idiot. You know how rare it is to come by one of these?! My customers will easily fork over all their data for it!"

"Do you have any idea how many times a Squiddle has attacked me this week?! TOO MANY! I need this more."

"What you "need" to do is to learn what personal space is."

"How's it my fault when they pop up everywhere and I can't see two feet ahead of me in dark waters?? I can't even turn on my own light!"

"Well that's your problem. Learn some manners."

"I think you need to learn some, considering you just ripped it out of my hand!"

"Should I remind you who let you out of containment? I could've just swam by your cell, you know."

"....you better take that back, or else." With gnashed teeth, you scowled at Sebastian--the sea monster who had undergone mutations similar to your own--holding an item that you so dearly prized:

The blacklight.

After the blacksite went into lockdown and nearly every creature was released, you've done the best you could to survive on your own, scavenging for whatever items Sebastian neglected to scoop up.

Normally, you'd search through dim and dark rooms, as oftentimes those overlooked places contained the best kind of loot.

The only tradeoff was contending with the numerous Squiddles who were set loose. Although normally calm, they were easily enraged by any bright light shined on them...whether it was intentional or not. Even just standing near them pissed them off to the extreme.

They've attacked you quite a few times simply because your angler light was apparently too irritating for them. And by the time you managed to flick it off, they'd lunge for you, wrapping their tentacles around your arms and jabbing you with barbs.

Thankfully, they were not poisonous, but they still stung like hell.

Like those injections the guards and people in white coats used to give you.

They reminded you of..not-so-fun times, and you'd rather forget them and be able to navigate through the facility safely, and having a blacklight was the only way you could do so.

If only Sebastian wasn't so obsessed with snatching up everything he came across...

You knew he was forced to help the expendables, sure. But he had more than enough wares to sell at this point.

He's no stranger to killing customers out of annoyance, which wouldn't bother you...if not for the fact he took everything they had back instead of leaving something for you.

Yeah, you were a little petty.

But right now, you were thoroughly irritated by his greed.

"Or else what?" He sneered, daring you to finish that sentence as he switched the blacklight to his third hand.

"Or I'll...I'll." Pausing, you glanced over his shoulder, gasping dramatically. "Is that a Wall Dweller?"

"Huh? Where?" While normally smart, Sebastian was foolish enough to look behind him for one second-

Before he felt the light being snatched away, and he swung his head back, scowling upon seeing it back in your possession. "Had. Sucks to suck." You teased, holding it tightly in your two lower arms. "Try to get it from me now-"

"Oh, but I will. GIVE IT HERE!!!" Gnashing his teeth, he lunged at you with frightening speed, but you were quicker and dodged out of the way, laughing as he slammed into a locker with full force.

"Damn, I would've thought Pandemonium ran into that." You snickered, only to blink as he suddenly turned and tried again, this time having success in tackling you to the floor.

At that point, both of you were in a fierce struggle for the blacklight, leaving scratches and bites on each other's bodies and snarling angrily. You were livid, seeing him bare his sharp teeth--looking no different from those noisy Anglers that liked roaming the halls.

It sure would be a bad time for any of them to pass through.

"Now you're just pissing me off, Solace! You were never this childish before!" You tried keeping the blacklight secured, but even then it was hard using three arms to push back his own.

"Childish? You think I'm....give me a break." He growled back. "I have a business to run. I'm not the one moseying around Squiddle territory!"

"Well maybe if someone didn't release them all at once during the lockdown, I wouldn't have to worry about where they'd pop up! Now let me have this one thing!"

"If I'm gonna get us out of here, I need all the data I can get! And they'll pay a fine price for this!"

"Go find Wall Dweller chunks to sell!! Those expendables you love so much will buy ANY slop from you!"

"HELL NO!! Those are disgusting! Almost as disgusting as your attitude right now! So just..let me...HAVE IT-!!"

With one desperate and final yank, Sebastian severely underestimated how strong his pull was, as the blacklight flung out of his hands, spinning in the air.

Both of you watched in devastation as it sailed towards the closest wall, smacking right into it. You physically cringed at the sound of a loud pop, followed by tiny bits of glass shards landing on the floor and the clattering of what remained of the light.

You just sat there in silence for a few long moments, taking in what just happened and feeling...absolutely horrible.

"....well fuck. Now look what you've--ow.." As Sebastian turned back to scowl at you, he felt a stinging cut on his cheek that you accidentally left "Shit, this burns.." He grumbled, holding his face.

"I think you bit me." You muttered, looking at your hand which had several tiny teeth marks. "You broke through my skin..I'm impressed." Then you glanced at his arm, realizing you tore through his bandage, too.

Guilt washed over you like a tidal wave. "Shit..I'm sorry."

He blinked, seeing your entire mood shift from being absolutely pissed off...to tenderly concerned as you inched closer to him, frowning. "Is..it okay if I see your arm?"

It took him a few seconds to respond, but he nodded and raised the limb, allowing you to examine the injuries closer. "I don't think the wound reopened, but jeez..I'm really about this. I should've been more careful."

"Yeah..um..I probably should'a been, too.." He admitted, a little embarrassed. "We messed up each other pretty good, and for what?"

"..a flashlight that's now useless to us."

Pouting, both of you began to realize how utterly stupid and childish this whole thing was.

Now you were left without a blacklight, regret clouding your minds and achiness in your bones.

"I see a medkit over there." You decided to speak up, pointing to one of the nearby tables. "Let me patch you up as an apology."

"..sure, as long as you let me do the same." He muttered, watching as you slithered over to grab the kit, quickly bringing it back and setting it between the two of you.

For the next ten minutes or so, you sat in silence, tending to each other's wounds with disinfectant and gauze. While you had a slightly higher pain tolerance, Sebastian hissed and winced every time you needed to wipe a cut on his skin with alcohol.

The chemical smells were probably bring him back to the days he was trapped in the labs just like you. But you didn't make any comments on it, instead trying to work as quickly as you can.

You were grateful that he considered you a close friend, as he usually despised being touched by anybody. You've seen it firsthand when some expendables tried climbing onto his tail, with him swatting them off like flies, screaming for them to get off--sometimes brandishing his shotgun in case they didn't get the hint.

"Please tell me you're almost done.."

"I am now." After a few snips, you smiled as you took your hands away, looking down at the new bandage you've put around Sebastian's third arm, putting the scissors back into the kit. "Thank you for trusting me after..um..what happened earlier."

"Yeah, same...that was kinda stupid." He sighed. "I know you can't help wherever those squids show up-"

At that moment, the lights in the room began to flicker.

Not once.

But twice in quick succession.

Both of you looked at each other.

"It's Blitz."

"Blitz is coming."

Sebastian grabbed your arm and dragged you to the furthest corner of the room, out of the path of the shrieking mutated viperfish as he passed through, killing the lights before making his exit. He was like a blur of grey and black smoke, his face barely visible to either of you.

It didn't surprise you that not even Urbanshade's "advanced" CCTV equipment could capture him on film.

You huffed, uncovering your ear fins. "He's too loud sometimes."

"Pssh, I don't think he's loud enough." The other fish remarked, rolling his eyes as you both turned on your angler lights to illuminate the now pitch black room.

Not even a few moments later, you noticed the dark figure of a Squiddle appear nearby, just out of your light's radius. Neither of you were close enough to fully agitate it, but just enough to make it display a frowny face--showing its displeasure.

You looked at Sebastian. "See what I mean?"

"...alright, alright. I guess it's a little ridiculous." He finally admitted.

"A "little"? Try dealing with that on a daily basis."

"I think I'll pass. But I get your point."

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Help me! I'm hypnotized...

The loser roommate I got stuck with did something to my brain. I didn't think it was possible, but that pathetic fag somehow put me in a trance. I don't remember how: with a pendant or spiral; but it doesn't matter! What matters is that at any second he can say a trigger word, and I end up like this: smiling and flexing like a fucking idiot 'till he releases me.

Sure, I look like I'm alright, but I've been stuck in this pose for two hours. My biceps ache and my shoulders are on fire. Add to that a leg cramp that I cant walk off and you'll realize how awful this torture is.

I'd just been trying to finish an essay (his essay to be exact.) I might be on the football team, but this lazy geek is forcing me to do his homework for him! And even though he ordered me to do that, against my will, he calls me up and says my fucking trigger word! It's fucking ridiculous! I used to go out and party with my teammates on nights like this, but now I'm stuck being this dweeb's mannequin-on-command.

I just know he's going to boss me around when he finally gets here. He'll probably make me cook him dinner again. I'd spit in it if I could -hell, I'd probably poison it if I could- but I know I'll be stuck in my own body again. I hate it when he tells me to smile and serve him like a waiter. God, its humiliating...

He makes me workout during my free time, which I have a lot of now that I can't speak to any of my old buddies. I gotta say that my body's never looked better. I guess their is one upside to being under his control: whenever he tells me to train harder, I have to do it.

The gym is the one area of my life where I can at least pretend that I'm not someone's trained monkey. Still, the fact that I can't even shower without his permission is a pretty harsh reminder. Whenever I get back from a workout, my legs march straight to the table where I sit, flex, and smile while I wait for him to tell me what to do. It doesn't matter how tired or hot I am. Sometimes, he doesn't even let me shower. He just tells me to mop the sweat up with my shirt and then put it back on.

I think the nerd has a thing for sweaty jocks or something. The thought of this creep making me do all this to get his little dick hard pisses me off more than anything...

I applied for a job today. It wasn't because I wanted to. My roommate decided that he wants more spending money, so he turned to me and said that I was going to earn it for him. So it wasn't enough for me to be his personal chef, maid, and eye candy! I have to be his fucking ATM now too?!

The tie wasn't my idea either. He told me to go buy some fancy clothes to make sure I impressed my "future employer." He's such a dweeb, and now he's making me dress like a loser too.

Obviously I nailed the interview. It wasn't hard when he programmed me to say things like "I've always wanted to deliver pizzas," or "I want to be the best employee you've ever had!" He made me sound like such a kiss-ass for a stupid minimum-wage job. Even the guy interviewing me thought I was being a bit excessive! I got hired on the spot, and I'm already scheduled every night this week, because my roommate specifically made me ask for as many hours as possible.

Now that I'm done with probably the most humiliating thing I've ever done, I'm stuck flexing with a tie on 'till that asshole gets home...

I got my first paycheck after a long couple of weeks doing his classwork during the day and delivering pizzas at night. My roommate texted and told me to wait by the front door with my paycheck. Apparently, he's going out tonight with some of his loser friends and wants the cash now. I can't believe I'm about to hand it over to him.

"Hey, handsome," he calls, shutting his car door.

"I'm glad your home, sir. How was your day?"

I do not give a shit about his day! He ordered me to say that whenever he gets back. He's also programmed me to get up and hug him like I'm a fucking queer in love!

"Better now," he purrs, squeezing my butt cheek while we hug, "You should come with me and my friends tonight."

The last thing I want to do is be around him and his pansy-assed friends. "Yes, sir," I smile.

"We're going to a gay bar, and I think you would be an excellent wingman."

My stomach drops at the sound of a gay bar. I don't want to be anywhere near that place, and I really don't want the guy with total control over me parading me around that place like I'm his fucking slut! Where is this going? He wouldn't make me do anything gay, right? The terrifying truth is he could. He could order me to act like a stripper there, or...or worse. Fuck! I don't think there's anything he couldn't make me do. He could order me on my knees right now, and I'd do it with this stupid smile still plastered across my face. He could make me blow his tiny cock, and I'd be helpless to do anything other than enthusiastically suck! I don't want to go to that gay bar. I have to escape.

"Yes, sir," I hear my voice gleefully ring out.

[risuola]

MISERABLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Satoru hated the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.

cw: angst, husband Gojo, hurt/barely any comfort, brief physical abuse, blood mentioned, verbal abuse mentioned, borderline toxic relationship, general sadness and sorrow — 2,6k words

a/n: the spontaneous pour of my brain, the angstiest parts of it are the most active during the night... could this be tied to too much? idk, maybe

“Do you think we could ever be happy?”

The question cut through the silence of the evening like a knife, reaching your ears and mind in a way that made you hum. Your hand not even for a moment stopped the gentle motion of brushing through the soft hair of a man whose head was resting on top of your lap. The gesture automated and yet still somehow warm, still filled with emotions that over the years remained unspoken.

“Do you think we–, no, I could have done all of this differently?”, Satoru asked again, his tired gaze fixed on the golden ring he kept between his fingers. The band that sealed your love at the altar nearly five years ago. One that you took off for the first time since you vowed in front of him, promising him your heart, body and soul till the end of days.

“I’m not sure if we were meant to be happy,” you told him quietly, keeping your hand occupied by the snowy strands. The words made your throat clench the moment they left your mouth; your voice cracked just slightly at the end of the sentence. You felt your body aching from the intensity of the feelings, like all of your cells were suddenly on fire, your heart bleeding inside your chest as if the knife was stabbed right through it.

“You think so?” His voice stayed low, nearly whisper-like as he was taking in what you said. “Were we supposed to be miserable?”

“I don’t know, Satoru,” you mouthed, not much sound leaving your lips.

Your hand felt light, distressingly so, you hated the sensation. You knew this was how it had to end, you knew that the time would come to part ways with your husband, but nothing could have prepared you for the heaviness of it. You felt it all on your shoulders, weighing you down as if the entire world just collapsed and rested on you. Suddenly you felt like things as trivial as breathing became exhausting, there was not an ounce of certainty in you, not a single drop of the belief that you will be alright without him. Satoru was a part of you, he was like a vital organ without which you felt like you won’t be able to live further. But, at the same time, that very organ seemed to kill you slowly, seeping poison right to your bloodstream, hurting you time after time. A disaster. You two were a disaster.

“I’m really sorry,” he breathed out after few moments of suffocating silence. “You deserve the world that I couldn’t give you.”

“I never wanted the world,” you denied, your head shaking just slightly as you allowed your knuckles to brush against his cheek. “You are my world, Satoru. I never needed anything else. You are all I want, you are everything that my heart loves.”

“And yet, I fucked even that up,” he chuckled. A bitter undertone felt nearly palpable as it echoed in the empty area. Satoru knew it was all him. Hurting you time after time, he never thought of it until it was already said and done and yet, you were always by his side. Every shit he said to you, every word that left his mouth you took and forgave. All he could do was to savor your cries and he hated himself for the way he would recognize you always, even if just by the taste of your tears.

You were an angel, he always thought. You were too good for him, too patient and too forgiving. Even in the heat of an argument, you tried to talk him down from his outbursts. You were the one to hug him tightly to your chest, to press his ear right above your heart even if he stabbed it with his words just a moment before. You showed him nothing but love, and yet that day… Satoru had no idea what possessed him when he clenched his fist during the argument. He feels like he blacked out for a moment, because it’s only after you spit the alarming amount of blood, kneeling on the ground and keeping a strong hold over your stomach, that Gojo realized that he just hit you with the blue infused fist. It felt unreal, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. He felt like his own body betrayed him. Why would he do that?

And then, he was right at your feet, apologizing frantically as you tried to regain your breath, to not vomit, to push the pain away from your thoughts but you just couldn’t. It hurt so much, you felt like all of the organs inside you were crashed after that one, single hit. The taste of metallic covered your tongue, your vision went blurry for a couple of seconds and at first, you couldn’t even hear the repetition of sorrys that was leaving Satoru’s mouth. He was terrified and so lost. Disgusted by his own self, hating the way he lost control over his body and hurt you. Before that, the sight of your tears was something that often kept him up at night. Remorseful thoughts haunted him constantly, but now, he knew that they won’t show up anymore. Now he’ll be seeing your blood, he was certain of it. Now, he’ll be seeing your curled in pain form, gasping for air as the red is gushing from your throat. And he’ll know that he was the reason for it. That it’s him, your husband who should protect you from any harm, who caused your suffering. Even the thought of it felt surreal. Was there any good in him? Or was he just a monster?

But then, you slowly got up. Satoru had no idea how long it took, but you pushed your body up and sat yourself against the wall. You knew him well enough, you knew the state of panic that he was in that very moment and your heart broke at the sudden realization of what’s to come. Inviting him onto your lap, you let your hands wander through his hair, calming him slowly in the silence of your shared home. Then you gave him the ring. Gold, now stained with blood enough to cover the love promise that he had engraved inside the band. The vow that he wasn’t able to keep.

“Please, don’t leave me,” he whispered, knowing it’s futile to ask. You could feel the hot tears dropping from his face onto the skin of your thighs and even though he seemed calm right now, you knew him all too well to know how broken he is, laying there in complete submission to your touch. He wasn’t moving, his gaze was fixed on the jewelry he held in his hand, his eyes studying the I’ll love you forever etched into the metal.

“I don’t want to leave you,” you confessed, still gently caressing the side of his face and his hair. If it was your choice, you’d stay with him till the end of your days. You could withstand the verbal outbursts, the heated arguments – you were a part of them, you had your fair share in the hurtful words, even though you knew how heavily it was bordering toxicity. But that day the line was crossed, and you could tell he wasn’t in the right state of mind when his fist clenched before. For a split second, it wasn’t your Satoru, it wasn’t the love of your life. For that brief moment, it was the strongest sorcerer in the world, the menace, as others call him, a threat. All of your marriage you felt safe near him. The power he possessed he always used to ensure your well-being, you not even once had to fear him because of how gifted he is. He never used his jujutsu against you. Not until that day.

“Then don’t,” a plead. He had no right to ask you to stay, he was all too aware of that.

“I’m scared of you, Satoru…”

You fear him. The sound of these words rang inside Gojo’s head for a good moment, rendering him speechless and you suffocated in the silence. You hated the sentence that just left your mouth, you hated the feeling of frighten that was cursing through your veins. You never felt uneasy next to your husband. Even if it’s right after the argument, you were always certain that if any danger occurred, he’d be the first by your side to shield you from it and he showed that to you many times, protecting you from threats as trivial as you grabbing the hot pan handle. Even in the heat of a fight between you two, he’d be the first to kneel in front of you and kiss your knee if you hit it onto the table. You can speak no words but he’d carry you in his arms from the other side of the city if he knew your feet hurt from walking. But now, how could you feel safe if you know he can be pushed to the point of using his strength against you?

“I…” He began but fell silent as soon as he opened his mouth. How could he even explain what happened to him? How could he reassure you that it won’t ever happen again if he himself wasn’t even sure what made him punch you in the guts? He couldn’t even remember what was the reason for the argument before it occurred. “I don’t know what happened,” he said truthfully. “I feel like I blacked out for a moment, I would never—”

“I couldn’t recognize you for a moment,” you exhaled, closing your eyes. The picture of his face right before the hit flashed against your eyelids. That was the Gojo from the battlefield, not your husband. “But if that happened now, how could I ever be sure it won’t happen again? I don’t want to die by your hand, Satoru, and we both know you are strong enough to kill me in one hit.”

“You’re afraid I’d kill you?” It felt surreal. Was it even happening right now? Satoru’s voice dropped down to a whisper. “Do you think I’d be able to do that…?” He wasn’t sure either.

“I don’t know.”

It was a nightmare. One of those from which Satoru couldn’t wake up, no matter how harshly he would pinch himself. The agonizing weight of reality felt heavy on his body, it hurt physically, it made him want to scream, to cry, to die. What was the point of his life if he couldn’t even keep one person safe? He always prided himself for being a man of his word and yet the promise to love and cherish you till death part you seemed unachievable to him.

“I don’t know what happened. Why my body acted the way it did. But love, please believe me,” he was desperate as he raised from your lap, kneeling in front of you and gently cupping the sides of your face. His touch was almost non-existent, he was scared to put any pressure against your skin but you leaned into his palms. Your fingers found their place around his wrist, smoothing the area softly with your thumb as you looked into the blue of his eyes. There was despair storming inside the ocean of his irises, the depth of fear painting its picture on his features and it hurt you to see him like this. “Please, believe me that I would rather die myself rather than hurt you ever again. There’s nothing I can do now to erase what I did, if I could cut my hand off just to make sure it will never cause you any pain, I’d do that without second thought.”

“We both know it will grow back,” you muttered lightly and he chuckled just barely at the remark. Satoru rested his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses kissed as he allowed himself to close his eyes and you did the same.

“I love you. I can’t go without you, I can’t live without you. You’re everything that I have and I know I have been a shitty husband. We argue a lot, I said so many things that I should never even think of. Fuck, I caused you so much pain… I know I don’t deserve you. I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to stay with me even though I’m the reason for your suffering, but please, please, just give me one last chance.”

“Satoru…”

“Please, let’s change it all, let me fix it,” he was babbling, you could tell how much panic was seeping into the voice that was leaving his mouth. “I’ll change, I will do everything, anything, to make you feel safe. To make you feel how important you are for me, how much I love you.”

 “I know you love me,” you whispered, pressing a kiss onto the heel of his palm.

“Don’t kiss that hand, you should hate it,” he sighed. The feeling of your lips on the hand that caused you pain burned him alive.

“I can’t hate any part of you. Even that hand, I love with all my heart.”

“Then stay. Don’t leave me, please, I beg you. I know I’m a handful, I’m terrible, I’m—”

“I knew you are a handful when I married you,” you cut him. “I knew who I’m saying I do to. Even though we fight so often, you never failed to make me feel safe. With all your power, I was never scared of you.”

“If I could give up that power just so you’d know I’ll never use it against you anymore, I would. And believe me, most of the nights I can’t sleep because the sight of your tears is haunting me and now, I know I won’t ever be able to forgive myself for the way I hit you. The blood, the hurt… God, you bled because of me…”

Feeling unworthy of being at the same level as your face, Satoru lowered his head, aiming to back away from you and rest his forehead at your feet where it should be, but you were quick to grab him by the fabric of his shirt and pull him to your chest. Once again, his mind went blank as the calm sound of your heartbeat drown out the hurricane of thoughts in his head. The warmth of your body enveloped him along with your arms as you wrapped them around his figure and out of habit, his own hands snaked your waist. You had the ability to make the world stop, to erase everything that wasn’t just you and him in the universe. You were what he needed to be able to live. No air and water could keep him alive if it wasn’t for your presence right next to him.

“I’ll stay,” the words left your mouth as a whisper but despite the quiet tone, it sounded confident. You were sure of your decision. You were sure of him, there was a lot more to Satoru Gojo than just that one moment and you realized it while kissing the hand that punched you. It got to you that what you felt wasn’t fear of him, but it was a fear of losing him. “But promise me something.”

“Yes?”

“Not today… But tomorrow, let’s sit and talk. About everything. Let’s clarify the things that we argue about, so we won’t need to anymore.”

“I’d love that. I hate fighting with you. You are all I need in life and yet I’m hurting you so often.”

“So tomorrow. We will talk about it all, okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I promise you. The world on fire won’t stop me from taking the time with you.”

“Good… now, let’s just stay like this.”

“Yeah…”

[shouyuus]

colorimetery

kuroo; 1,843 words; fluff, lapslock, no "y/n", abuse of extended metaphors, none of this makes sense, kenma is the most in-touch person in this entire fic and that should tell you something, awk!kuroo, whipped!kuroo

summary: in which kuroo is down bad for you and nothing much else happens

a/n: @seiwas this is for u! u asked for kuroo and i humbly deliver :) hope u liked it bby; fun fact, a lot of these colors are pulled from the gamblin oil paints website bc i love their paints and also i love the thought that a lot of pigments were poisonous way back when and ppl were just... casually poisoning themselves while making their art; there's a metaphor in there somewhere... but i'll leave that up to interpretation lol

─── 鉄朗 THERE ARE COLORS he doesn’t know the names for, just like there are birds who will sing songs that no human will ever understand, but somewhere between the viridian of a sun-lit forest and the minor trill of a mockingbird’s call, he finds the shape of you.

and he doesn’t remember exactly when he’d started feeling like this, only that he’d woken up one day to a pastel sky, heard the tell-tale blip of a message from you, and felt his entire body flush vermillion, hard enough to poison.

c’mon, bedhead. time for school.

he grins down at the message, his lips pulling wide, his fingers still blunted by his honeyed dreams (how many of you? don’t ask him — he’s long since lost count) as he types out a reply.

be there in three.

he stumbles out of bed in the raw sienna sunrise, pulling on his uniform pants, shoving the hems of his un-ironed white shirt into the waistband before dashing out the door. he finds you haloed in liquid gold, standing on his doorstep, flicking through your phone before you notice him and your face breaks into an earth-rending smile.

kuroo feels dizzy, punchdrunk, a sake-shot of fire sizzling down his front till it pools in the base of his belly as he pulls on his shoes and tries to hide behind a well-timed cough.

“c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he brushes passed you, but not before reaching out to ruffle at your hair, savoring in the midnight-soft of your tresses as it slips through his fingers.

you bicker the entire way to school, picking up kenma somewhere along the way. he casts you both a tired, reproachful look before slouching off ahead of you, content to resume whatever game he’s currently hyperfixating on while you and kuroo snipe at each other a few steps behind him.

“you could just ask her out,” kenma says during free period, his eyes never leaving his phone screen as he mashes at the attack button, watching the health bar of the boss monster dwindle even as kuroo makes an indignant sort of choking noise.

“w-what? she’s just — she’s just a friend.”

but at the scathing look kenma darts his way, kuroo finally relents.

“i — we’ve been friends for so long i just… i don’t wanna fuck it up, y’know?” he cards a hand through his already mussed up hair, eliciting a string of giggles from a cluster of girls sitting behind them, heads bent in towards one another, their long hair swishing like willow branches in a mid-autumn breeze; but neither of them take notice.

kenma heaves a world-weary sigh, grimacing as a large WIN!! image flashes across the face of his phone and he slumps back to frown at kuroo.

“i feel like you’ve built up enough affection points to unlock whatever good ending she’s got for you by now, so,” he pins kuroo with a pointed look, “i don’t think she’s gonna say no.”

kuroo can only blink, his mind churning around this strange yet apt analogy.

“aw man, you’re the best, y’know that?” he laughs, reaching over to catch kenma in a headlock, digging his knuckles into the crown of kenma’s head even as he struggles fruitlessly to get free.

it is in the cadium orange glow of sunset, after your art class and his volleyball practice, that kuroo finally works up the courage —

“hey uh — can i ask you something?”

you hike an eyebrow, a dangerous grin sharpening the shape of your lips.

“didn’t you just?”

kuroo lets out a frustrated sigh, “fuck you, you know what i meant.”

you laugh, the timber of it ringing through him like church bells on a sunday morning, and suddenly, he wonders if this feeling might be what inspired the ancients to worship at the feet of so much divinity — just this, the giddiness and anticipation, the knowledge and uncertainty. this, the insurmountable weight of something (call it love or infatuation, he doesn’t care) pressing down on his chest hard enough to rob him of every last breath.

he think that perhaps this is all anyone’s ever needed to start believing in magic.

“okay, okay,” you say, stifling a grin behind pink-pursed lips, “what did you wanna ask?”

“go out with me,” kuroo blurts out, well before he can stop himself. and he almost wants to sink into the earth with the way his entire body goes hot, the aftermath of a tectonic shift, the pluming heat of a volcanic hiccup.

you stare up at him, your expression curiously blank as he watches you, desperate for any sign of your answer, the most minuscule tells of how you might be feeling.

finally, you cock your head and ask, “was… there a question in there somewhere?”

kuroo almost swears*. almost*.

“fuck — fine! i meant — will you —”

“yes.”

“— it’s just i’ve — wait, what?” kuroo freezes, staring down at you with slack-jawed disbelief, blinking as if he doesn’t quite understand what you’re saying.

you allow yourself a smile, and kuroo feels his insides melt to something very much like molten marshmallows.

you let out a sigh that sounds remarkably like kenma’s — exasperated and amused in equal measure — before glancing back up at him with a bashful smile.

internally, kuroo wonders if this is what being “k.o-ed” feels like and he resolves to be just a bit more merciful to all of videogame opponents.

“i said yes, you big volleyball-obsessed oaf —”

“oh,” kuroo says, still not quite sure what he’s supposed to do from here.

you roll your eyes and turn back towards the sidewalk, taking a few steps before twisting your head to look at him.

“aren’t you gonna walk me home?”

kuroo nearly trips in his eagerness to level himself with you, but once he does, he straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest.

“so —” he says, in a stab at his usual carefree bravado, “do i get to call you my girlfriend now?”

you shrug, “sure, if you want to.”

kuroo deflates ever so slightly, “what? you don’t want me to?”

you slant him a look that makes his knees turn to jelly.

“yeah, i do. but that won’t matter if you don’t, right?”

“i — i do!”

“so then…”

you turn your back on him again, though he’s sure this time he catches it — the dash of sweet magenta, swept across your lips like a kiss, or a promise.

or, the thought licks up the back of his throat, tantalizing — the promise of a kiss.

“oi.” he jogs to catch up with you, reaching out to sling an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to press his lips into the thick of your hair, breathing you in, losing himself in the familiar smell of your shampoo — green tea and apples, or something of the sort.

you laugh, and he basks in the sound.

by the time he walks you home, the street is gilded in goldenrod yellow, your shadows stretching long beneath you, the slant-wise light painting everything in an ethereal glow.

“well,” kuroo says, shoving his hands into his pockets, if only to keep them from fidgeting, because guys like him don’t get nervous. at least, not like this.

“well,” you echo, letting your voice linger over the ‘l’, letting it twist around your tongue, the sound lulling at the top of your palette till kuroo feels his stomach catch.

“see you tomorrow?” he asks, cursing himself internally for sounding so uncertain. since when has he been so uncertain?

your lips twist into a tease, just a fish-tail flicker, and kuroo knows he’s done for.

“do you wanna stay for dinner?” you ask, just as he opens his mouth.

“unless you don’t —” his voice jerks into an abortive breath.

somewhere behind him, a raven fluffs out it’s feathers on the low-cut wall that separates your house from the rest of the street. a single black feathers flutters to the ground, dark as an oil spill.

“unless i don’t what?” you ask.

kuroo swallows around his thundering heartbeat, feeling the last dregs of sunlight seep from the far horizon.

“i was gonna say… unless you — you didn’t wanna say goodbye,” he admits, his eyes flicking away from your face if only to give himself a momentary reprieve from the intensity of your gaze.

you purse your lips, shrugging up a shoulder, a single lock of hair slipping from its place behind your ear.

“i never do. c’mon — or else they’ll start eating without us.”

kuroo is speechless as he watches you make your way up the shallow steps to your door, glancing over your shoulder towards him. he doesn’t know how many times he’s stayed over for dinner, how many times he’d lingered in the perfumed warmth of your room while you showered, flipping absently through the latest volume of jump, how many times you’d fallen asleep with your damp hair slowly soaking into his school uniform.

he couldn’t count them all if he wanted to. and he doesn’t really want to.

he takes a breath and takes the front path two steps at a time, leaping up the staircase with a smirk as he skims his palm along the top of your head. you make a sound like an annoyed hamster and kuroo allows himself a laugh that bubbles up and up and up till it’s spilling over, till he pushes open your front door and is greeted with the familiar sandalwood radiance of your front hallway, the light pooling around his ankles as he toes off his shoes.

“hey,” you say, and he turns around, only to find you leaning up on tip toe to brush your lips against his.

he freezes, but you’re pulling back already, shrugging off your coat, shouldering off your school bag and shouting down the hallway to ask what’s for dinner, and to say that kuroo’s here.

kuroo finds himself caught in the sharp cerulean blue of your laughter like the rain-washed sky, the smoke-ridden darkness in the shades of your eyes, he turns to see you blushing, even as you motion for him to follow you into the dining room. he does, only tripping over himself once (though he’s been feeling wobbly since this afternoon, when he’d resolved to ask you out in the first place).

and he tells himself that, yes, there will always be colors he doesn’t know the names of, bird songs he will never be able to understand. but colors, he can learn. and as for the birds — well, he figures that they’re all probably singing about falling in love anyway.

TAGLIST: @yaoduriaa @ominouslywritinginmyhead @naomihatake @cheesypuffkins87 @crispynutella @dira333 @stunies @phroggii @fennecnco @encrytpta @simpingdailyforthem @ryescapades -- join the taglist!

[brailsthesmolgurl]

Delirious

No matter how much you had offered your heart and arms to him, you were never his. And he was never yours.

Another oneshot requested by my angsty babies, I am glad you chose Rafayel. Yes, the writer you had wished for is back. Hang on tight to your seats baby gurl, this one gonna be hard to swallow.

Warnings: Angst, no comfort. Make your eyes bleed. Character death. Descriptive Mentions of dark topics so if ur sensitive please refrain.

Artwork is not mine, please support the original artwork!

Ding Dong. Ding Dong. Ding Dong. dINg dOng. DiNg dOnG.

You slammed your door opened and the 183cm drama queen stands in your doorway, head hung low, face drooped towards the floor. If he is not made of solid muscle and bones, you would be watching him melting right into the floor. Sighing, you stood aside and let him in, not even bothering to ask him a single question. You sort of having a gist on what had happened.

"Here, soup for you." He replied solemnly, feet carrying him lazily across the living room and to your kitchen. He brought soup this time, must be something big. Him bringing a souvenir over also means he would probably be staying the night. Not that you guys are in a relationship or anything, but 'complicated' is the right term for the both of you as of this stage.

The chair creaked under his weight as he took a seat on the wooden chair slotted at your dining table. "Rafayel." You grabbed a tissue box and sat down on the opposite end, a good necessity whenever he drops by your house unannounced. His hunched over form under the harsh lighting of your dining room's light unexpectedly painted a blob of shadow on your table. You reached your hand out this time, finger tapped on the wooden table just a few centimeters away from his hand. "Rafayel, are you okay?"

"She broke up with me." His reply was short. No details, no whining, no accusations, but just one sentence. This is an untouched territory for you. Most of the time, he would pressed on the doorbell nonstop until you slam open the door and his lips would not shut off till he was done venting. There were a couple of times he did came in looking like a dreaded fish, but the smell of alcohol would be the perfume of his. Today, however, no alcohol smell and no usual harangues.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Few days passed, till few weeks, then few months after. For such a while, Rafayel had been hanging out more frequently with you, bringing you to the most random places to hang out such as going to a bowling alley just to get their waffles because he claims he likes to watch people roll balls but he also likes the waffles there. A trip to the market only to buy crabs and releasing them into the backyard to watch which one could run the fastest then the winner shall be rewarded as dinner on the dining table.

He had never been weirder than ever, but maybe this is his way of coping and who are you to judge? You had never been in love. But reading through romance books and watching all of the romantic shows, when love comes to your mind, Rafayel comes to your mind. You thought, maybe you do love him?

"Get out." Your words were final. Index finger sliced through the air and pointed straight towards your front door. Your cheeks glistened under the reflecting light casted by the television that was playing a teen romance flick. But no attention was spared for the movie anymore. "Rafayel. GET. OUT."

"What do you mean?" Eyebrows sewn together, eyeing your expression that spelled hurt. He was confused about your sudden burst of anger. "All I did was talk about the movie. And you got mad at me all of a sudden."

"You did not talk about the movie. All you did, was compared me to her, with the context of the movie." Your nostrils flared, tears stinging at the back of your eyes as if you had inhaled poison. Your throat and chest tightening further the more you held your tears in. "You lied to me. You said you got over her." Your arm fell to your sides, voice feeble. "But, why do you always find the need to compare me to her?"

"Oh spare me, I just went through a breakup, I could use the space to let loose, can't I?" His ignorance egged you on, seeing how indifferent he is about this situation. "Furthermore, I could use the---"

"And you think it's okay to play with my feelings?!" You belted, eyes welled up with tears, blurring your vision. You stepped up to him, hands pointed towards his face this time and you seethed in anger. "You, came here everytime, when she broke your heart. And out of everytime, I stayed. I waited." Your voice started cracking. "I was there for you when you had nobody else. And I picked you up when you thought you could not live without her anymore."

"Well, you could have just left if you---" He chipped in and you slapped him across his face with your palm. Although your hands are small, but it packed enough of a force to cause his cheek to ache, an uncomfortable throbbing pain following afterwards. He left his head tilted to the side, taking in the reality of what had happened. He just got slapped by a girl. Never in his life, he thought he would do something so outrageous that he would get slapped across the face. Guess he just broke his streak of not getting slapped by women.

"I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU, CAN'T YOU TELL?!" You withdrew your hands and slid onto the floor, full on sobbing as you hugged onto your body to gain warmth for yourself. All of the blood had rushed up to your head which explains why you could not feel your legs anymore, hence the position on the floor. You desperately hoped Rafayel would grab you right now, and hug you tight within his arms.

You heard hurried shuffles, sound of keys jangling and a soft thud next to you. Those noises not tending to your curiosity at all. "I am sorry." His reply was bland, numb even. A sentence for remorse, also a sentence for a goodbye. The doors closed behind you and you were left alone, a forlorn soul basked within the lights emitted from the romance show. Silent sobs overheard by the moon that was peeking in through the windows of your sky roof.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

"Rafayel!" Thomas burst in the front doors, scurrying towards Rafayel's room at full speed after spotting the empty canvas sitting at the living room. Slamming the door that leads to Rafayel's room, the artist was sprawled out on the bed, his room so cold that Thomas could have just witnessed the North Pole without having to be there. The floor was surrounded in trash, papers crumpled up, pencils of all kinds used for sketching strewn across the floor. One may call it an organised mess, but Thomas calls this artist block.

"How long have you been in this room?!" Thomas shook Rafayel's shoulders to wake him up. "Your room is as cold as the cold storage that you use to store your seafood!" Thomas wasted no time in having to collect the pieces of papers and pencils on the floor, arranging them in his hand. "Why are you not done with---"

His nag came to a halt when Rafayel had sat up straight, back hunched over and eye bags the only colour present on his pale features. "What do you want?" Even his voice sounds hoarse, like a teen boy cycling through the age of puberty. "I do not wish to be disturbed."

"Your calls, as usual, went unanswered for the past few days so I helped myself by going over to ask y/n about your whereabouts because I thought you were staying with her pretty often these days." Placing the items onto the artist's white desk, Thomas turned to study his expression, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I know that look from somewhere." He squinted his eyes, studying him even further. "You had that same look when you caught your ex cheating on you that night." Thomas was referring to the girl that came before you. The one that had broke Rafayel's fragile heart. "Funny, now that I think of it, y/n's not doing any better than you."

Coming to realisation, the light bulb in Thomas' head flipped the switch. "Did anything happened to the both of you?"

"Did she asked anything about me?" Rafayel answered his question with another question. Eyes finally slanted upwards to face the manager of his. He just wanted to hear something, at least something to give him a reason to find her. He felt guilty, remorseful even for putting his burdens onto her. Leaving her all alone, drowning her in her own agony that day was the worse thing he could ever do to someone who had only ever been kind to him. And it took him three days to figure that out in his fish brain.

"No, she just asked me to hand you this." The older man reached into the pocket of his blazer, fishing a pink note out of his pocket and he handed it to Rafayel. The paper a little wrinkled, but the contents of it are a mark of your handwriting.

//𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓈 𝐼 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝒹.// Your cursive writing always a form of art to his eyes. A small, dainty note was all that takes for her to personally pass on the will to him. Rafayel stared at the note for a good minute, the wind coming out of the air-conditioner turning Thomas into a popsicle but filling the silence.

"I have to go." Rafayel uttered, hoisting himself out of the bed in one go and he threw on his dark pistachio green open collared shirt. The one you always quipped about how healthy his skin tone looks in it but with him constantly bantering that the green was a direct insult to his hair and eye colour. Just for this time, he would smother his ego, put on your favourite outfit, and head over to find you.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

The keys he held onto, the same set of extra keys you had entrusted him with, slotted into the keyhole and turning it clockwise, a 'clack' could be heard and he opened the door with the twist of the copper-painted doorknob. The balcony's sliding door remained opened, the sheer white curtains danced to the rhythm of the wind. The lights in your house were dimly lit, providing Rafayel with just enough lighting to navigate himself towards your room.

At this timing, in the middle of the night, he tiptoed through your wooden floors, afraid even the smallest of creaks would give you the spooks. He twisted the doorknob to your door but it jammed halfway. Trying again, with a bit more exerted force this time, the door remained unbudgable. "Y/N...?" He called out for your name, using his knuckle to give a light knock on your door. "It's me Rafayel. Can we talk?"

He was met with a deafening silence. Of course you would not want him to be anywhere near you, be it to hear him apologise for his stupidity or for him to comfort you within his arms. He bet you could care less about him given the last stunt he had pulled on you. He grappled for his phone, pulling out of his pant's back pocket and he turned on the screen, the light on his phone screen puts the dim lightings to shame.

He scrolled through his phone book till he stopped at your name, a heart symbol edited in next to your name. It was not just a stunt for him to catch your attention, the heart emoji has always been there, but after you had taken him in and allowed him to stay with you for a couple of weeks, the heart started making more sense to him, but poor Rafayel couldn’t distinguish what is love and what is bare attraction. If he could get to talk to you this time, then maybe the heart would mean the world to him. Maybe, maybe this time, he will not mess his speech up and break your heart again.

The phone was set to dial mode and he pressed onto the green call button, ready to receive shoutings from the other side of the room. Your ringtone rang, the stupid song for the Toothless Meme played on rewind. Did you slept a bit too well maybe? He called again, and the same scenario happened.

His heart was hit with a sudden pang of fear. You had always been a light sleeper and noticing the obnoxiously loud ringtone not even waking you up for the slightest bit, he decided to take a step back and bust down the door with his shoulder. Luckily, just with one hard nudge of his broad shoulders, the door dislodged itself.

So does his heart. Your whole room was thrashed, filled with the pink notes that you had given to Thomas earlier. Some were torn, some were sheathed, some had scribbles all over it, all of the notes littered with handwritten notes beyond his comprehension. Rafayel watched you, held up vertically, legs far from touching the ground, a noose was the only thing connecting you towards the ceiling. "Y/N!" He ran up to you and grabbed you, his lanky legs kicking all of the notes out of his way. "Y/N!"

A short burst of flames from his fingers burnt the noose and you fell to the floor. Your face a shade match to the moon that was sitting outside. Rafayel's hands fumbled with his phone, calling the emergency hotline as soon as he could. Strings of curses coming out of his mouth afterwards when he asked for help to be deployed to your location as soon as possible.

While awaiting for the ambulance, Rafayel did CPR, or at least what he could remember from the lesson he had taken years ago. Pumping steadily to a rhythm, blowing air through your mouth to hopefully deliver air to your lungs. The sirens of the ambulances huddled outside of your condominium, the blue and red lights adding on a speck of neon to the monotonous night.

"Stay with me please. Please stay with me y/n." Rafayel held you in his arms, your ice cold skin prickled against his warmth. His tears fell down his cheeks and continued its trail down your already tear-stricken face. He never thought his ruse would cause you this much damage. He thought that you could be the end to his delirium, and the start to his new reality.

The paramedics that arrived on the scene stood aimlessly at the door frame, watching the broken man in front of them, amidst the thrashed room, holding onto a lifeless body of a woman who seemingly cried herself to death.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Angsty af, this piece is part and partial of my experience as I had once struggled with my mental health before, and it was also due to a shitty ex. But I am doing much better now, and writing this brings back those shitty feels that I used to have, but also reminded me of how much more happier and stronger I am now, and that I am not choosing death because of my ex! :)

But if any of you, do have issues with mental health, please do seek for reliable help. As cliche as it sounds, life is not at all bad if you have people that are supportive of your recovery journey. If you needed someone to rant to, my dms are always open <3.

I do not wish harm for any of my readers, and I want you guys to know that just as much as ur supporting my works, I want to be there to support you if you have any hardships in life as well. Just know that you are loved, and I love you <3.

Sincerely, Brails.

[axelsagewrites]

Micheal Gavey*Crunchy

Pairing: Micheal Gavey x popular!reader

Word count: 1191

Warnings: none

A/n: the V-day posts are officially beginning

Masterlist Here

As much as you loved your friends, they were all terrible study partners so as usual you waved your goodbyes to Felix and Farleigh and headed to the library. You made a point to go everyday even if you didn’t have much to study for. Sometimes it was only for 10 minutes sometimes a couple hours.

You quickly sat your stuff down at the same table you always sat at before looking round the shelves for the book you needed. when you returned you went to sit down but paused when you saw the crunchy sitting on your seat. You quickly glanced around the room, but everyone was so involved in their own books, so you assumed someone must’ve just left it here. You sat it on the desk before getting to work.

-

The next day another crunchy sat on your seat however this time you noticed it before you even sat your stuff down. You looked around and your eyes fell on a blonde boy at the end of the table, “Hey,” you whispered, hoping the librarian wouldn’t kill you for talking, “Was anyone sitting here before?” you asked.

He stared at you, unmoving for a solid few seconds before shaking his head no. you let out a quiet hum of confusion before taking your seat and starting on your essay. You left the crunchy sitting on the desk however an hour into studying and suddenly feeling very hungry you decided finders’ keepers and opened the bar.

-

The next day there was another crunchy. Again, you sat it on the desk and ended up eating it halfway through your visit. By day six however you were opening it as soon as you sat down. When you told Farleigh about it, he commented how easy it would be to poison you, but Felix had a different conspiracy theory.

“Maybe you have a secret admirer,” he teased, very loudly might you add, as you sat at the pub having drinks.

“With a crunchy obsession,” Farleigh snorted.

You sighed at your friend before turning your attention back to Felix and his huge grin, “You’re mental,”

“When did you say they started?” Farleigh asked when he noticed something on his phone.

You paused before answering, “Thursday I think,”

“Thursday the first?”

“Um yeah I think so why?” you said and while Farleigh looked at you like you were stupid an even bigger grin took over Felix face.

“Oh, shit man that’s so sweet,” he said, slapping your arm which hurt way more than he realised, “Its almost Valentine’s day how cute,” he beamed.

“More like stalkerish,” Farleigh said earning a quick jab from Felix, “Cmon I’m just looking out for her. what if its some creep following her?”

“No ones following me. I don’t have a secret admirer. You both are crazy. And I’m getting a drink,” you told them, getting up and ignoring Felix’s pleas for shots as you headed to the bar.

You ended up waiting beside a tall, though not as tall as Felix, blonde boy when suddenly it clicked, “Hey do I know you?” you asked as you waited your turn but before he could stutter his answer it clicked, “Wait you’re the boy from the library,”

He nodded, an awkward silence falling over you both before he finally added, “I’m Micheal. I see you there. Sometimes,”

“Yeah, I saw you as well. you’re in there more than me,” you joked just as the bartender came over, “He was first,”

“Its okay, you go first,” he stuttered, and you couldn’t help finding it incredibly cute.

-

The crunchies continued all the way till the 13th and now you were wondering if Felix had been, for once, right. It was now valentines and despite all your friends telling you going to the library alone on valentines was the most virgin thing ever you had to find out if he was right.

You felt oddly nervous as you approached the library. What if it was a creep? Hell, what if it was a really cute guy and you made a fool of yourself? You sighed as you pushed away the thoughts and walked in.

You actually paused in your tracks for a moment when you saw Micheal sat right by your usual spot. You shrugged it off as you walked it and put a smile on your face. However, it faltered for a moment when you realised there was no crunchy on the seat. “Do you mind if I sit? Sorry its just routine,” you joked as you walked up to the desk.

Micheal nodded silently so you took your seat and got to work. Well not that you had much to do. You were going to a valentine’s party tonight, so you’d actually completed all your work last night, but you didn’t want to look like a freak who only came to see if a stranger had left a crunchy. You grabbed a random book from the shelves and pretended to study for around 30 minutes before deciding to just go.

However just as you went to stand up Micheal’s hand shot out, “Wait!” he said and for once no shushing was heard since even the librarian hadn’t come in today. Hell apart from Micheal the whole place was empty, “I um have something for you,” he said as he fished something out of his bag, “Here,” he said, handing you the golden bar.

A small smile took over your face, you couldn’t help it, “Was it sat her before or…?” you asked, your voice trailing off when you saw the nervous look on your face.

“No, it was um. It was me, leaving the crunchies. I thought you might’ve needed the energy boost,” he said, mumbling by the end.

“That’s really sweet of you,” you said, sitting back down despite the blush spreading on his cheeks, “How come you never said anything?”

“I didn’t want you to laugh at me,”

“Why would I laugh?” you asked, your head tilted to the side which Micheal found far too endearing, “To be honest I was kinda hoping it would be you,” you said, filling in the silence.

“Really?” Micheal said, a smile shooting onto his lips, “I didn’t know if you knew who I was,”

“I see you around all the time,” you said, eyebrows scrunching in confusion, “I just never wanted to interrupt you. you always seemed really into your maths,” another small smile tugged at his lips.

Micheal paused, looking like he wanted to say something but also through up so you gave him another smile and finally he said it, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? If you’re not too busy or anything,”

A wide grin spread across your face, “Yeah I’d love to,” you said, and his smile grew so wide his cheeks might pop.

“Okay great. Are you free tonight?” he said, shyness now completely gone making you laugh but you nodded yes. Felix and Farleigh could survive without you for one night, “I could meet you outside the dinning hall at six and we could go out somewhere,”

“It’s a date,”

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[nemisuki]

Love the Chef

Crush AU | A short oneshot of the blonde trying to assassinate her through his cooking skills. And it somehow leading to a massive realization - thank god for noodles, laughs and sparks of love?

᧔o᧓ || katsuki bakugo x f!reader, she/her pronouns, no manga spoilers, pure fluff, open ending, aged up to third years, realization moment, reader down bad fr, bkg a softie, silly moments, short oneshot, kdrama coded, mainly reader POV, 850 word count 

“Agh- how could you eat stuff like this?!”

She flinches as the spicy noodles hit the surface of her tongue. The seasoned aroma entering her lungs and creeping its way up.

Causing her eyes to water the more she chews yet this is only her third spoonful.

Y/N wanted to prove him wrong for once.

That she could handle the spice.

But her taste buds went against her wishes.

Immediately understanding she overestimated her own limits - she quickly taps out and pushes the bowl of noodles across the table.

Not wanting to be near that monstrosity he cooked up in the kitchen. He must be psychotic to eat such things, that dish could kill!

“Okay okay you win!” she says, practically sweating as her body begins reacting to the poison known as Bakugos noodles.

Who the hell could eat such spice and not react?!

Accepting her loss, she grabs the glass of milk that the blonde poured out for her earlier.

As if he knew she would lose.

Chugging the cold liquid with urgency, letting it sit in her mouth as a makeshift antidote for the stinging pain on her tongue.

If things couldn’t get worse, it somehow does, as she feels her nose grow runny.

The combination of the spice and her tears - leads to this tragedy of a look on her.

A disappointed pout on her face as she holds the glass that’s now half full.

She doesn’t dare look in his direction.

Not wanting to see the look of triumph on his face, that smug grin that annoys her to bits.

That is until she hears laughter.

A sound so unfamiliar that she peeks in his direction.

She can see the way he holds his stomach - his eyes squinting with delight.

Multiple chuckles exiting his mouth, finding the whole situation amusing.

In an instant, warmth completely overtakes her body.

And she doesn’t know if it’s from the spicy noodles or the sight of him.

She has never seen him laugh this hard till now and is frozen in place, not daring to look away from this bizarre turn of events.

“Hah! I told you idiot, as if you can beat me in a challenge of spice!”

He covers his mouth with his hand, stifling the laughs threatening to escape.

“Y-You look so stupid!” he looks away to not wheeze at the sight of her. The way simple noodles could have her on the verge of a breakdown was peak comedy to him.

She is unable to respond, her mind completely forgetting about the aches of pain on her tongue.

Her eyes fixated on the new sight before her - his enjoyment being the source of her fast heartbeat and heated face.

It was just the two of them in the dining hall of the UA dorms but that's all ruined as she hears the sound of the elevator doors open. Footsteps exiting as whoever it is, begins approaching the lobby.

Without much thinking, she grabs a plastic plate and shields the side profile of his face. Her body moving on pure instinct as if protecting something worth value.

She hides him from passersby who are too engrossed in their private conversations to notice the duo at the table.

And she feels an odd sense of relief.

“What the hell are you doing?” he mumbles, his brows furrowing with confusion, peeking over the plate to see their classmates leaving the building.

Spotting nothing out of the ordinary, he looks back at her with a calculating look. Expecting her to explain the odd reaction that came out of nowhere.

Wait what-

Realization dawns upon her and she can feel the rapid increase of suspense and her jitters.

Why did she do that?

Now embarrassed, she quickly lowers the plate, averting her gaze, “ah I just….”

Thoughts swirl around her mind for a moment but the conclusion remains the same.

She’s glad no one else saw his smile. For some reason, wanting to keep the sight to herself, to relish in this new experience.

Her eyes begin widening as she connects the dots.

Oh.

“Oi you good nerd?” he tilts his head, both eyeing her down and completely oblivious to her inner turmoil.

Her eyes land back on his face, the smile no longer present as he's back to his usual self.

At that moment... Y/N could only wish he’d start smiling again.

"I-I need to blow my nose!"

She practically jumps out of her seat, running to the kitchen, hands pressed against her face.

Heat radiating off her face so intensely that she wondered if she had caught a fever.

The only sensible answer to this whole thing was so simple but nonetheless sudden.

Feeling like a love struck fool, she leaves him ultimately dumbfounded.

Yet in his mind - he's already planning what to cook for her next, secretly enjoying the banter between them.

Assuming the reason for her unexplainable actions is simply from the food he prepared.

He stares at her from afar, the sight of her splashing cold water on her face, has him involuntarily forming a smile at her ridiculous actions.

"What an idiot."

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| this small fic is inspired by a scene from the anime 'Sounds of Life' which I highly recommend. It's so underrated and I get sad everytime bc theres no S3! for u guys I included the exact scene below if ur curious (from s2 ep 2) and I love them so much omg. tags ||| @leleyro ໒꒰ྀི ´๑  ̫๑`  ꒱ྀིა

[bruciemilf]

No Capes! AU where Bruce and everyone else is an actor.

Famous Hollywood moguls Thomas and Martha would've rather died in real life than make Bruce a child actor so he didn't start till he was 24

It's an ongoing gag that Thomas always tweets "On my way to die again! As if you didn't know" with every Gray Ghost remake

The Waynes are always just. So chaotic

Bruce and Selina constantly bring stray cats on set; Bruce just hides them under his black shirt famously known as a void with no end.

Behind the Scenes cuts have images of this man pulling 10 cats from under there and the director is convinced he has a cryptid on set

They have to edit so much footage because Bruce always says "sorry" after "punching" someone. "Bruce, they have padding, they're fine!" "And no health Insurance. Do something about that."

Sometimes he forgets to take off the costume after filming. The record set for how many Subways he sent into a panic is infinite

That being said, Bruce's kids aren't afraid of him at all, and WILL run up to him everytime they visit to chant "dork! Dork! Dork!" While flocking around him. He cries from happiness

But he cries all the time, so it's hard to tell for what

The movie's soundtrack is just Bruce's middle school playlist, " They said they needed something rotten and terrible, like, -- poison for the ears. If you listen to it you get sick."

Bruce's biggest "diva moment" was refusing to give up the eyeliner and he still sends apology cards to the cast and crew for his " horrible behavior"

"He just kinda said no a bit loud and ran out of the studio while sobbing quietly."

Literally every villain on set is a sweetheart. Selina does her own make-up as well as Bruce's and Oz's and you can see Carmine lurking like a little gobling behind them just to scare her

There's this joke that none of Selina's streams ever go well because the crew is her curse. She's trying to talk about how to steal on set, meanwhile, Bruce next to her, "Did you know cats have no collarbone. Also, the electric chair was invented by a dentist."

You'd think everyone's favorite duo would be Bruce and Selina, and you wouldn't be wrong, but the public can't wait for Bruce and Carmine to have a press conference or interview together

Mostly because Carmine obviously dealt some shady cards in his past and Bruce is so clueless . " Have I ever tried coke...No, I like Pepsi." While Carmine is trying not to laugh behind him

Edward is just as bad. He's trying to tell the director that's not how bombs are made, and someone's head exploding wouldn't look like that, and Bruce is like :O Eddie, I didn't know you were a gamer

Edward is a menace on set and Bruce stays blind to it because he like him. There's rows of videos of Bruce stopping mid scene, going " Eddie," before jumping on the guy like the kitten he's NOT

Alfred still brings Bruce lunch and snacks and he throws down with Oz for no reason. He always brings the kids (read; they sneak in) and it's very clear they're not getting any shooting done that day

Dick, age 10, impatiently asks why Gray Ghost can't have a sidekick. In the last moments of the movie Dick runs in, improvises a scene with Bruce, and the fans love him too much not to include him after

You just leave Bruce alone when his babies are on set; Damian is strapped to his chest cause he's so small that everyone almost steps on him, Jason is giving the writers tip, Tim is taking pics of everyone, and Bruce smothers them with kisses constantly

[lezzballer]

Diana Taurasi party headcanons

(UConn era)

∞ Partying is not Diana's default setting. She will not go out and party unless you invite her out. But once you invite her out, you're unleashing an unlimited amount of chaos into the world

∞ Diana is elite at partying. She puts the same energy, enthusiasm, and focus into partying as she puts into basketball. If she's going to take time away from basketball to party, then she wants to be efficient with it. She wants to get the most partying out of every single second

∞ If you go to a party with Diana, she won't leave your side. She'll bring you along with her on all her adventures and introduce you to everyone she knows and doesn't know

∞ Diana makes it her mission to find every loner at the party and make them smile. She'll find the most awkward person at the entire party and make them her new friend for the night

∞ Diana is the drunk girl in the bathroom who becomes best friends with every random woman there

∞ Even while hammered, she's still better than 99% of people at most games and sports. If anyone puts money down on beer pong or pool, that money is hers. But cards are different. She loves playing cards and she's terrible at it. And she'll lose all the money she won playing beer pong and pool after a few card games. So she ends the night with zero net profit

∞ Diana is always up for a round of drunk wrestling

∞ Diana is tone deaf and can't remember any lyrics to any songs but she will still attempt karaoke anyway

∞ Diana's default dance move is twerking. She finds a way to rub her ass on someone at all times. If there's a dance circle, she's probably crip walking in the middle of it. It's also impossible to stop Diana from stripping off her shirt and dancing on the counter at house parties

∞ Diana is competitive about drinking and competitive about smoking. She gets so drunk and high that you need to make sure she doesn't fall down a flight of stairs

∞ In her mind, since you invited her to the party, you're responsible for taking care of her. She will poison herself and then place her life in your hands. You get the sense that she does this on purpose as some kind of toxic trust ritual. If anyone else in your life did this, it wouldn't be worth it and you wouldn't put up with it. But with Diana, it's impossible to say no to her sweet nature and funny banter. And that's why you end up holding her hair back while she pukes

∞ The upside to this toxic trust ritual is that you can talk to Diana about absolutely anything. Usually, the fall-down drunk chick is not the person you should go to for advice. But Diana is the exception to that rule. She's a great listener and she really cares about what you're going through

∞ Diana has a poor sense of direction and gets lost easily while sober. And while drunk, it's about 100 times worse. But she has a positive attitude about being lost and everything usually ends up okay. She relies on friends like you to make sure she doesn't end up dead in a ditch somewhere

∞ Diana can party till 2am and still get up early the next day for training and practice. It works out fine because she just sleeps through class

∞ Diana definitely has a binge drinking problem. But since she's extremely successful in life, no one is that worried about it. And she doesn't think she has a problem because she parties less than her sister. And she only goes to parties when people invite her. So how bad could her problem even be? Well, it's bad

[venerawrites]

Headcanon When Itachi is sick and his s/o is taking care of him

author's note: stupid me missed the part where it said it was headcanons request, so I started writing it as a drabble 😭 Anyway, I fixed it, so I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for requesting! <3

Itachi is probably one of the most stubborn men in the Naruto universe. In his mind, he is made to care for and protect those close to him, even if at the expense of his own well-being.

He hates making people around him worry, and especially his s/o. It is bad enough that they are constantly stressed by him being part of Akatsuki and Sasuke seeking his revenge, they do not need additional reasons to worry.

With that being said, Itachi's first instinct once he gets sick is to simply stay away. He never gives a time by when he must be back from a mission, so this easily gives him 2-3 days to rest and get back on his feet before he visits his lover.

As a ninja who travelled all over the world and survived some of the harshest weather conditions, the Uchiha rarely got sick. It happened once every few years, but when it did - it was BAD.

Maybe it was the constant cold rain in Amegakure or the poison arrow with which one of the village's guards managed to hit him (or maybe even both), but just a day after he and Kisame left, he found himself so weak and tired, his teammate had to carry him all the back.

Not wanting to bring him back to the base, the first place Kisame thought of was Itachi's s/o's house.

I've said before that I always imagined Itachi with someone who lives in a remote cottage and is either a herb gatherer or somehow knowledgeable when it comes to natural medicine.

One glance at the black-haired shinobi was enough for them to understand he must have caught the flu or some type of virus. Thankfully, they knew exactly what he needed and wouldn't waste even a minute, before grabbing their coat and running to the nearby village to buy some medical ingredients that were missing in their kitchen.

His s/o would totally pamper him like a baby, despite Itachi's protests and claims that "he is fine".

They would make all his medicine by scratch every single day till he gets better. Most of the time it took the form of either a paste or a tea, which they served with his meal.

If they have any medical ninjutsu knowledge, they will use it to ease his symptoms, but I doubt they will be that good to heal him completely.

Itachi would constantly huff about it, but he secretly loved the cozy space his partner managed to create using all the available pillows/blankets they found in their house.

As I said above, this man is very stubborn, so inevitably there will be some small arguments during that time. Mainly they were started by Itachi, who claimed he was feeling fine now (despite his pale face and loud cough), and finished by his s/o, who would always end up physically restraining him on the bed by laying next to him and hugging him.

In order to make sure he doesn't get up and move too much, his s/o would spend the majority of their day by his side. Reading books to him, telling him stories, playing board games, sometimes even gossiping... They will do anything to engage his mind and keep him distracted from the idea of trying to do stuff on his own.

Something he won't fight, however, is his s/o's massages. They would work on his aching muscles every single night, relieving the pain and the stress his body was feeling. Not only he love the feeling of his partner's hands on him, but it also greatly helps him relax and fall asleep.

With all of this treatment, it won't take long for Itachi to be back on his feet and spoil his s/o as reward for the good care they provided to him.

cc artwork: Oliver Beck

[wickedsmille]

jaytim drabble

Some suggestive themes like, ya know, doin' the nasty and merc'ing people. And not edited.

Go ahead.

----

Ask him if he thought his night would end with Tim Drake standing outside his door, body wound tighter than a spring and eyes eerily void of anything resembling an emotion, asking for Jason to fuck him.

Yet, as improbable as the situation seems, Jason is lying next to Tim on his moth bitten excuse for a mattress with a cigarette between his fingers and drawing shapes in his mind's eye in the popcorn on the ceiling. Tim is next to him, on his side and facing away from Jason. They've gone not once, not twice, but three times. He'd love to say he'd adamantly refuse another roll in the sheets but Tim, objectively, is gorgeous. Turning his head, Jason thinks he looks even better covered in his marks.

Turning his head enough that his eyes can rove over Tim's back, Jason allows himself to revel in the souvenirs Tim will have to bear on his walk of shame out of Jason's apartment. Bruises and bite marks, hand prints and scratches. A primal part of Jason preens because those are from him, show Tim is his if only for a night. The soft, artistic side of him thinks Tim looks beautiful awash in pinks and reds and purples.

Jason ruthlessly smothers that side of himself and allows the animalistic part of his brain to take the wheel.

Apparently what Jason's hindbrain wants is to reach out and press his nails into a particularly nasty bite mark on Tim's shoulder. He smears the blood dribbling down with his thumb and swipes it across Tim's shoulder blade, a wing befitting of a broken bird. Another brush stroke on Jason's canvas bringing Tim that much closer to a true masterpiece.

Tim hisses in response and jerks away. He glares at Jason over his shoulder and scoots away as much as the tiny mattress they're sharing will allow. Not trying to hide the cruel curve to his crooked grin, Jason laughs. It's funny. Tim was just begging him to go harder, push further, but Jason is getting rebuffed for breaking the unspoken agreement between them now that it's over to say nothing, do nothing then pretend it never happened.

Fuck Tim. He's feeling a little used and rightfully so.

Something is up with Tim, not that they've talked about it aside from some quick words double checking Tim was of sound mind beforehand, but it's obvious in the desperate way he wrapped his hand around Jason's fingers as he choked him out while fucking him hard enough to make Jason's end table rattle. The way Tim kept saying harder, harder, harder as Jason used his hand in Tim's hair to press his head into the sheets and the other on his lower back to keep him pinned in place as Jason made good on his promise to use Tim's body like his dick's own personal playground. Or the way Tim continually goaded him, intentionally provoking higher and higher levels of violence till Jason reached his limit and told Tim to shut the fuck up or get out in a deadly serious tone that brooked no argument.

A wave of anger washes over Jason as he stubs out his cigarette on the floor and scowls. When he shifts to lie back again, he keeps rolling so he's on his side with the long expanse of Tim's back hovering in front of him. He reaches out and runs his hand through the short hairs at the base of Tim's skull, runs his fingers through the strands till they're long enough for him to grip them tight and yank Tim's head back. Jason pulls until Tim is forced to bow back and meet his eyes.

"Why me?" Jason demands.

"Like recognizes like," Tim says coldly.

"Try again," Jason refutes before tightening his grip.

Tim hisses and winces but Jason refuses to relent even though it earns him a poisonous look from Tim.

"I'm not lying," Tim tells him.

Jason doesn't believe him. "Lying by omission counts."

Tim grabs Jason's wrist and clenches his hand so hard Jason can feel the bones grinding together. "Would you have said no?"

He hums and bobs his head from side to side like he needs to actually think about it. Really, he's rallying every bit of League honed Bat training to convince Tim he isn't lying when he says, "Yes, but you caught me on a good day."

Turning head away, Tim takes on a thousand yard stare, eyes unseeing as he slowly releases Jason’s wrist. He rakes a hand through his hair and twists his fingers at the base so he can pull. Jason’s a little jealous of Tim's hand because that's his move. As frightening as the thought is, Tim's hair is his to pull now. See, growing up like he did, people learn to sink their teeth in the good things, good people, and never let go. At least not until there's no good left in them.

“I killed someone tonight,” Tim finally admits, voice barely above a whisper but packed with so much regret and guilt and disgust it's loud in the space between them.

Jason learned awhile ago to not get trapped in the noise. Snorting, he reaches for his cigarettes and pops open the top. “Welcome to the club,” Jason tells him sardonically as he nips a cigarette out of the pack.

Tim’s focus snaps back to him, the twisted knot of self hatred shoved to the side in favor of being angry at someone else. “Really?”

Lighting up, Jason moves his gaze slowly from the tips of Tim’s toes all the way to the uncertain fury in his eyes. “Really?” he parrots mockingly. “What, you want a medal?”

“Fuck you,” Tim responds coldly.

“Ooh, I'm so scared,” Jason says, raising his hands in surrender. He has to laugh because this whole thing is hilarious. Just this once he’ll take pity on Tim. “If you think none of the scabs Dick or Bruce have beaten to a pulp didn't die on the operating table, you're out of touch. Emergency services trots them away breathing and everyone goes wild but nobody looks too close after, right? Reports to write, cute family dinners to have. Important stuff, right? Not the sad sack who got kicked so hard in his ribs a bone splinter broke off and he died drowning.”

Tim doesn't say anything but Jason doesn't need him to. Jason likes to make people hurt and he's good at it.

“You're not special,” Jason informs him, “just more honest.”

All at once, Tim looks queasy and elated, like he’s been absolved and damned in the same breath. He thinks Tim looks good like that, in a shattered kind of way. It's tough having your core beliefs so thoroughly pummeled into dusty remnants of morality you're left to sift through to find a purpose. Any purpose. Even if it means digging your fingers into the cracks of your psyche and pulling till everything spills out. He wonders what’ll come tumbling out of Timmy.

Reaching over, Tim takes his cigarette and sucks down the smoke. “This tastes like shit,” Tim says as he breaths the smoke in Jason's face.

“Yeah, and fake ass stress relief. Are you done moping? Self flaggeration isn't the kind I'm into.”

“Okay,” Tim agrees easily, taking another drag before handing it back. He nods to himself absently, hands fluttering around his arms and legs. Restless and untamable in the way he's fighting himself and what he thought he knew. 

“Yeah, okay,” Jason says. In his head, he's already planning all the ways he'll wreck Tim now that he's got his teeth in him.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey I saw you were really stressed and I know requests aren't the best thing but this has been stuck on my mind, you can delete this or do it when you can. I can wait as long as you need 😊

Can we get Peter B and Miguel (separate or kinda like "we're co-parent friends") with a platonic male reader, reader is a spiderman for his own universe but his universe ended because of him. Now he's ungodly protective of both Peter and Miguel. Like he's put his life on the line multiple different times for those two knuckleheads

I just want fluff 😭

Peter B Parker and Miguel O’Hara

Platonic Headcanons

Peter B Parker

Now, Peter would appreciate how protective you could be, but it got a little overbearing at times, especially after you got impaled by an abnormal doc ock. Hed make you have a sit down with him about how dangerous it is, and how he feels protective of you too, so he doesn’t wanna lose you.

He can only imagine the insane amount of trauma youd have after losing your universe, especially if it was cause on accident by yourself. He would always make sure you have someone to talk too, and somewhere to go if you need it.

He would open his home to you, even after he got back with MJ and had Mayday, and you end up being a common sight in their home, to the point where MJ starts calling you their spiderson, and Pete ruffles your hair and calls you his kid.

Mayday absolutely loves you, even though Peter fears how protective you’ll be of her. If you were protective of Peter, with Mayday it’s a million times worse. He’s pretty sure he’s caught you hissing at other spiderpeople who get too close sometimes.

He still loves you very much, as he’s come to see you as his kid one way or another, you two just have a lot of things you need to work through, and Peter and the rest of his family is with you the entire way.

Miguel O’Hara

Miguel would be annoyed by how protective you were, because deep down he would feel he doesn’t deserve it. Especially after you get hurt protecting him, taking the stinger of an abnormal Scorpion for him.

He wouldn’t know how to feel about you till this point, or why you got attached to him of all people. But as you lay there feverish and hallucinating thanks to the poison from the Scorpion, he sits and holds you in his arms until you fall unconscious.

Miguel understands what it feels like to lose everything, so he’s actually great to come too if you need to talk. He doesn’t say much, but Miguel makes a great listener, especially after he starts caring for you in return.

Would end up calling you his kid on accident, specifically after you got hurt once again on a mission, and he yells at you that he cant lose another one of his kids. After that you two have to sit down and come to an understanding about your shared self-sacrificial nature.

You both have gone through a lot, and lost even more, but together you are able to build a tiny family with just two members, and that is more than enough, as long as you have each other.

[bosinclairsgff]

Could you write Bubba, Otis & Baby with a stoner s/on who gets super affectionate when smoking, preferably afab or gender neutral :3

I love your account <33

Includes: Bubba Sawyer, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Albert Shaw and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: Mention of kidnap, Otis being Otis and cussing I think that’s all…

Thanks for requesting! Hope you enjoy this!

- Bubba loves when you smoke. He knows you guys are going to cuddle or you’ll play with his hair. I think he feels so safe and comfortable while you’re high. Maybe he also feels like he doesn’t have to hide himself as much? You know what I mean, like he understands you’re in an altered state of mind. Maybe not even remembering everything that happens while you smoke. Once you’ve hit that high you immediately cling to him. Holding his hand, laying on him or anything you can think of. He’d be nervous at first, not understanding what’s going on. But once you explain the best you can he’s all giddy about the attention.

- He’s high as fuck with you. You smoke…he smokes. Maybe he’s the one who go you into smoking? At first it annoyed him, how clingy you got. “Damn bitch can’t keep yer fucking hands off me.” He says cruelly. Some part of him cares for you though so he’d let you hold onto him as he works. Now that could mean you’re sitting under his desk cuddling his legs. Or you’re sitting on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. Might end up with you being bent over his work table being absolutely fucked till you can’t walk. Who knows though.

- Baby is super affectionate towards you all the time. So she loves it when you get high. She knows that means a cuddling session is in her future. Begging you to play with her hair as she watches whatever movie is playing on the tv. “Aww sugar look at you.” She’d say giggling while you wrap your arms around her. Baby just loves you so much, in her sick way of loving that is.

- Al lets you out of the basement for a rare occasion. You see Max’s stash of weed laying out on the table. You can’t help yourself, you might die tomorrow why not get high one last time? At first he’s livid but you make it up to him by showering him with love. He’d be so uncomfortable at first just sitting up straight staring at you. You start rubbing his arm all while you have a huge stupid smile spread across your face. Slowly you build up confidence. By the end your in his lap cussing with him. He’s satisfied but you guys will be playing naughty girl later.

- Bo’s poison of choice is alcohol. He doesn’t care for weed. BUT he loves when you get high. He’ll use this as a way to get into your pants. After a long round of rough sex you’re clinging to him like there’s no tomorrow. Drawing stars on his chest with your finger tip. Cuddling as close as you can to him. You need him.

[rite4fun]

soft hands

heyyy 🤪

i started this in the midst of my other writings- forgot about it and then i recently found it again and fell back in love with it so.. here it is finally!! // also my first request ever which is really exciting and special so i hope this doesn’t disappoint, i’ve spent the last two days perfecting it so if there is mistakes- idk man I have to stop looking at it before i go crazy 😭

requested by: @endlessvoidd

an angsty/fluffy/!!smutty!! fic based on this song - i.e. my interpretation into this.

18+ content

••

love is a fickle thing.

coming in many forms but always ending in similar fashion: heartache.

atleast that’s what it felt like to you. it was as if the whole world remained stagnant while your own went up in flames. but that’s what pain does to one, isolating them so only they feel as if there was no one else who could ever feel the way it made them.

this pain often took the shape of another human.

one that claimed another name, promising safety and care but never keeping to their word. it was a cycle they used, a ruse to get you under their control and you fell for it everytime.

a faux charming smile mixed with poisoned sweet words held in devilish hands.

your colorful heart so open for loving that it made you vulnerable to the ones who were willing to hold it. their rough hands gripping so tightly till you’d bruise only black and blue.

so now as the whole world burns, you had found solace in your own. it no longer felt like you were underwater, suffocating in the abyss of darkness that always seem to swallow you.

you’d been pushed to your limits, forced to become stronger and bolder in your decisions. you had too- in order to survive this new world where the only thing that mattered was living to see the next day. it was no longer a place that required such care or attention to minuscule feelings like love.

until you met him. daryl dixon.

someone with no smile, spoke very little words but otherwise soft hands.. someone who you never thought you’d fall for, especially in this seemingly mundane world.

but here you were..

it was like those pieces you left behind had come crumbling back into existence.

the colors of your broken heart, blooming together for another and no matter how hard you tried to deny the feelings, they would always be there, lingering into every touch, every gaze, every moment you had with him until it became too much to bare.

but even then, you’d do nothing.. never to push or pull him, you’d take whatever you could get because even without him reciprocating any feelings, it was the happiest you’d ever been.

••

violet, the selfless lover.

sweat glistened over his muscled arms, his sleeveless shirt accentuating his broad shoulders before dipping at his waist and hips that shift as he fiddles with his belt.

a familar sight: his back turned to you.

you lie in bed in the aftermath of your indulgences. the only covers having survived your rushed intimacy were the thin sheets that you pull up to your chest, shielding parts of yourself that he has already seen but now, not in a fit of hurried passion, it felt too vulnerable.

especially now, in the moments he quickly slips away into the night, void of live beings and caped into darkness.

your eyes flutter shut, ears catching the light sounds of his shuffling as he gathers himself. you swallow the suffocating words, the ones that ask him to lie back down with you.. to hold you, love you, touch you.

just this once, stay.

you repeat the words over and over in your head, hoping that somehow he would suddenly be able to read your mind but like clockwork, you hear him pause.

his motions freezing as you feel his gaze struck on your body, casted in the moonlight revealed from the open shades of the window that releases the heat of the room. you always wondered if in these moments he ever thinks about it.. staying.

laying down beside you as his hands caress the parts he had once gripped tightly in desire. your head upon his chest so you could listen to his heartbeat thudding softly against your ear. his arms wrapped around your frame, caging you in protectively.

but alas, it’s only seconds later, he’s moving again.

you steady your breathing, fighting every urge to twitch and allowing him to believe you have fallen asleep. you really aren’t sure who you do it more for: him, so there are no awkward goodbyes or yourself, so you don’t have to endure the pain that comes with his departure.

he always leaves though so your troubles never really vanish so you guess, in a sense it’s more for him.

you remember the first time it happened, after traveling together for so long with tensions high whenever you were near each other- it seemed inevitable. grappling at one anothers bodies in haste as you fought to stay quiet in hershels now cleared out barn.

embarrassingly that same night, you had expected something different. that it meant you no longer had to tip toe around the supposedly feelings between you both- except it appeared one sided when he left hurriedly after your secret escapade.

then you supposed it should have remained a one time thing but something kept pulling you both back towards the other and as time passed with more people added to your group, you figured you two would grow even further apart but no-

it wasn’t like he ever seeked you out but it was almost like he was always waiting, finding hidden spots wherever to succumb to your primal states before parting and acting as if you weren’t just moaning each others names in bliss.

maybe that’s the reason you continued to hold on so tightly, he kept coming back and despite his inability to show anything but desire towards you.. it felt like enough.

you felt like you could make it enough.

so you would act like it was all just a passing fleet of passion when it came down to it.. for him.

you can hear his steps around the room before a new pressure of weight covers your body, the welcomed warmth of the duvet setting your heart to burn.

only to be sizzled out by the sounds of his descending steps as he leaves the room, shutting the bedroom door softly before making his way down the stairs and out the front door, locking it with the spare key.

you sit up, gripping the thin sheet around your body as you move to stand at the open window. the streets remain dark but if you squint your eyes enough, you could make up the shape of his body, moving easily through the pitch black night.

the physical distance he puts between you rivals the emotional one that always sits heavily in your chest.

you watch as he approaches his home, the porch light turning on, making his body freeze at the bottom step for only a split second before he’s moving again, disappearing under the porch awning and eventually into the home.

your own home remains silent, quiet, still. completely void of anyone and anything but your soft breaths.

with the loss of some members of the community and the consistent rebuilding, new homes were becoming available. you once resided with the grimes family, michonne, carol and daryl.

until rick approached you all, offering you a place of your own. even before the world went to shit, you never lived alone. having a roommate of sorts or living with a boyfriend, and even when things got rough, your parents invited you in. the idea was unnerving, especially after living in close quarters with your newfound family. it was a change and you couldn’t understand why it made you so unsettled.. but a lot of things have changed since before and you assumed that everyone was trying to settle in more firmly, the grimes family deserved that more than anything so you figured you’d try.

maybe you, carol, and daryl could move into one home together?

but it was never spoken as an option, so you stood with shaky legs in the back of the living room as everyone looked to you in confirmation. you had refused to make eye contact with any of them, especially after carol piped up that daryl was welcome in her new home. isolating you without notice but you didn’t blame her, how could you?

there was plenty of chances for something to come of you and daryl but it didn’t. it wouldn’t, it seemed.

that leap of possibility lingered at arms length, yet felt untouchable.

so you agreed, following rick as he guided you to your very own home, placed conveniently right across the street from carol and daryls new home.

seemingly a physical representation of your inner battle, so close yet so far.

blue, the understanding lover.

there’s an overwhelming amount of yearning in your body as you watch him caress her forehead before pressing a soft kiss to it.

his hand is gentle in his touches, even from afar you can see the way in which everything he does is tender towards her.

for a second, you too, can almost feel the ghost of his touches, equally as soft but less loving and your heart aches at the thought.

you feel a bit ridiculous at being jealous of a baby. a sick baby at that.

“you ready?” your attention is pulled from the bittersweet scene to the woman that’s approaching you.

“‘course, you?” maggie hums with a grin before following your gaze that’s found it’s way back onto him.

“he’s always so good with her, hm?” you can only nod mutely, that ache beginning in your heart, falling to the pit of your stomach as you watch him conversate with rick who gently holds his babygirl in his hands- daryl loves on her with an equally soft touch.

one, your body desperately craves.

despite his hands physically being rough from the countless amount of hours he spends working with them, he had a way of knowing just how to handle you: so soft with the right amount of pressure to still excite you.

the only part missing was the consistency; the knowledge that he was yours as much as you knew he owned every bit of you.

even if he didn’t know it.

you shake your head as if it will physically rid your hopeless thoughts, changing your regard for checking your pack and making sure you’re prepared for the run.

shortly after everyone splits in farewells, six of you pile into a black suv for the trip. you settle in the furthest seats with maggie, rosita and tara infront of you as glenn drives with daryl in shotgun.

an unfortunate sickness had fallen on the community, not yet as severe as the one that had tragically taken place at the prison- but whatever it was spread fast and had sent a dent into the infirmaries medication.

so a pharmaceutical run was needed, especially after little judith herself fell ill.

the six of you volunteered, immediately finding a small community pharmacy close enough that had been scoped out as potential. it was a no brainer when it seemed nearly abandoned, very little walkers surrounding and every bit as hopeful as life could give right now.

upon arriving to the building, you split off into groups of two. you had expected to go with tara but found her already linking and walking off with rosita- and you’d never break up the dream team of maggie and glenn so.. you found yourself left with daryl.

there are very few moments where it’s ever just you two like this, without that fire burning between your bodies. you aren’t sure if that was just dumb luck or something daryl arranged so he never had to be with you alone. either way you never questioned it because sooner or later he would be in your bed, pressed skin to skin as you shared sharply sweet kisses and the feeling of being unwanted vanished.

green, the caring lover.

“shit” daryl curses as you wrap his leg is gauze, covering the wound he inflicted when a shelf fell onto him.

there’s an alarm blaring over your heads and the familar ghastly groans pounding on the pair of front doors that the rest of the four lean against to keep them out.

“did anyone check the back door?!” rosita yells.

“could hear them clawing at it too but i think it’s our best choice.. didn’t sound like too many but if we wait any longer, that could change” glenn speaks through his teeth as his feet slide against the linoleum flooring.

daryl winces when your rushed hands put too much pressure and you mutter a quick apology, “i can clear it”

“nah” you look up at him as he brushes off your offer.

“i don’t think we have much of a choice daryl, i can do it” your voice is quiet against the harsh banging, “we can’t wait it out, they can see us through the doors”

“i said ya ain’t doin’ it. jus’ let me think of somethin’” he makes to get up, his leg nearly collapsing under him in pain but your quick to reach out, grabbing onto his waist to steady him. you’ve never had your hands on him in this way, it feels different yet familar- heartwarming even as you brace his body against yours.

“well, can you think faster because i don’t know how much longer we have until they push through us!” rosita smarts at him, agitated with concern by the situation.

you lift your head to the flashing red lights above then twist it to the back of the pharmacy, “it looks like the alarms are set only upfront, they will be more attracted here than in the back.. i can do it”

you go to release daryl hastily, going to make a break for the back but he grabs your arm, clear irration oozing into his words, “are ya hearin’ me? … you three hold ‘em doors, we’ll let ‘em in one by one”

you stare in disbelief as everyone listens- tara and rosita holding onto one door while glenn has the other, maggie coming to stand next to you readily with her knife in hand.

your attention is then drawn to daryl who pushes your helping hands away in attempt to steady his stance alone, finding a comfortable balance as he readies his own knives.

the echoed alarm has nothing over the sound of your own heartbeat through your ears. there’s mild annoyance that builds in your stomach, in result of daryls doubt of your ability to do anything by yourself.

you find your feet moving backwards on their own accord, watching as they all follow directions but it’s not going to be enough against the growing dead outside- getting close enough to consider a horde. one of them slips, allowing two walkers to stumble in and as maggie and daryl are distracted, you take your sudden leave.

sprinting towards the back before anyone can say anything. the relentlessly pounding is just as loud and the hinges of the back door rattle but the piercing siren has lessened, giving you enough head clearance to search the back room for something to hold against the door. you plan to use the same tactic except it’s just you against the many that stand on the other side.

it’s the only way you can think of to ensure that everyone makes it home with the supplies, a hell of a lot quicker too.

the only things in your vincity is shelves stuffed with random boxes but it will have to do. you yank some down, hoping to lessen the weight of it before you’re shoving at it.

“come on..” you grunt in frustration but with one final harsh shove, it collapses over with a loud bang- a heavy box toppling down along your arm, cutting open a clean laceration from your inner elbow to your wrist, “fuck!”

ironic enough the fallen box now lays crumbled at your feet, busted open and spilling out its contents of bandages. there isn’t time to perfect the wrapping of your arm, nevermind control the consistent bleeding that quickly seeps into the cloth but it works for now.

adrenaline runs through your veins, keeping the pain to a minimum as you drag the shelf to the door, angling it so that it only has a sliver of space to crack open once it hits the fallen piece of metal.

your body feels heavy, exhaustion settling into your bones from this trip already. the idea of crawling into the warmth of your bed, sounded better than ever but it’s not time yet. there was still work to do and your people needed an out, you’ll be damned if daryls remark held you back from a potential opening.

you heave a deep breath, turning the knob just so the door is loose before backing up and readying your knife.

the first few walkers stumble through the crack one by one, easy enough to take out. in a short amount of time, you’d killed a dozen or so and you’re beginning to wonder how many more reside outside the door as you begin to tire out. there’s a pause and no more push through but you can hear them, their monstrous groaning floating through the crack.

you decide to take a breather, dropping your arms in fatigue but it’s the wrong time to rest as another walker squeezes through, having been forced through by another that stumbles in quickly after. you shove tiredlessly at the first one, gripping the second and collapsing to the ground with it as you stab it in it’s head. your knife is a lost cause inside the skull of the walker and you scramble back as the second one stumbles after you, it’s unstable body crumbling ontop of yours.

you have your hurt forearm rested on it’s neck as it’s teeth snaps at you grossly while the other hand pushes at it’s forehead. it’s been awhile since you’ve been so close to a walker like this. since arriving to alexandria, you and maggie worked along with deanna on building a new brighter future for the community.

as time passed, you found being inside the walls wasn’t so bad and the only time you itched to be out was when daryl would be gone on his weeks long recruiting trips.

he is what made alexandria feel more like home to you.

his insane judgement of character made you feel safe, so if he found that trust within those walls- so did you and every other person in your group.

that’s why you needed him to get back, why they all needed to make it back. alexandria would never be the same without him- without any of them.

you internally scoff at your overly ridiculous thoughts, even as you sweat so close to death itself, all you can think about is him.

but with thoughts of getting him out safely, comes a newfound strength as you let it’s forehead go, the walkers head dropping dangerously closer to your face as you scramble for the gun on your hip.

it’s a clean one shot before your throwing the walkers body to the side with a grunt, scurrying back in fear as your heart thuds painfully in your chest.

no matter how many times you’re faced with this new reality, it never fails to scare you shitless with the constant reminder of how living isn’t a promise and looms so dangerously over your head- or directly in your face.

a refreshing soft breeze comes from the cracked door, snapping you from your building anxiety and you hastily crawl to it, pulling it open more and finding the alley clear.

you smile in relief and as much as your body screams to rest, you’re running to grab the others to make a swift escape before anymore walkers can show up.

red, the passionate lover.

the thunderous clouds open for the loud torrents of rain creating a solemn ambience among the community.

similar to the way you feel as you lay on the couch, shades open to watch the droplets that hit the window before sliding down.

freshly showered with a clean bandage on your arm, wrapped in a sweatshirt far too big for your figure and fuzzy socks, you wallow in the warmth of your own home.

there’s a pounding at your front door that interrupts your thoughts, one that could almost rival the thunder released from the sky.

you pull a thin blanket from the couch, wrapping it around yourself as your sock covered feet slide across the wood flooring to the door.

pulling it open, the sky’s weeping shower is louder but what takes your attention is the soaking wet man that stands before you.

“daryl?” head to toe, his body is drenched. his clothes clingling to him, dripping onto your front doorstep. his hair beginning to wave as the tips leak water onto his shoulders and face, in which you finally take in his exasperated expression, “what’s wrong?”

“wha’s wrong?” his tone is full of frustration, “let’s start with tha’ stunt ya pulled earlier today, hm?”

confusion covers your features, your fingers gripping the blanket tighter around your body when a gust of wind and rain blows through, “what do you mean?”

daryl huffs, a hand coming up to swipe over his mouth roughly, “i mean.. ya makin’ a stupid decision tha’ could’ve costed ya, yer life!”

“what?” you can tell your inability to make sense of the conversation only frustrates him more but given that last time you saw him, you guys were fine- as far as him ignoring you, nothing seemed out of the ordinary and now he shows up at your home to yell at you? so yeah, you had a right to be a little confused.

“dun’ play dumb, i told ya the plan and ya ran off! decided playin’ with ya life was the way to go instead!” although it was just hours ago that you laid face to face with death, it felt like days and you no longer cared to linger on it anymore as you stand within the safety of alexandria.

“i made a choice. you have no right to insult me! it saved us, didn’t it?!” you hadn’t expected him to praise you for what you did, but his response to your actions that helped you guys make it back safely was unbelievable, had it been anyone else-

“at what cost?!” clearly you aren’t understanding what he’s saying as he grows more agitated by the second.

“what does it matter? it’s over daryl!” you grip the blanket in one hand as you toss the other out in annoyance.

“ya shouldn’t be risking ya life lik tha’.. fo’ anyone!”

“well i did!”

“why?!”

“because that’s what you do for someone you love!” your chest heaves with rattling breaths, “i-i wasn’t thinking about me, i just knew you had to get out, that’s all i cared about.. you getting home” you turn your head as you feel tears burn in your eyes.

it’d be silent if not for the rumbling downpour coming from the sky above as if the universe too, was upset.

“… ya love me?” bewilderment makes up his otherwise timid tone.

but you can’t face him, the humiliation of outing yourself too much to bare so you just nod your head abashedly, tear-filled gazed locked on a chipped part of the doorway.

“look at me” you can see his body move closer from the corner of your eye but you make no move to change positions.

body aflamed with embarrassment, frozen in time as your mind races through every outcome of this situation. all ending in familiarity: your heart laid crushed in the open, bleeding the many colors it holds. it’s like you can feel the ache of longing that follows as you rethink every moment you guys had together, clinging to the memories to cope with the overwhelming sadness that withers into your chest.

there is no time to mourn something you haven’t lost yet when a pair of hands cup your face gently, forcing your gaze to the sharp blue eyes of daryls.

the distance between your faces closing as his thumbs absentmindedly wipe the tears from under your eyes. the rise of your heartbeat causes your chest to heave with your deep breathes mixing with daryls as his body sways closer. his eyes never leave your face, taking in every inch as if he still can’t believe the words that you uttered so effortlessly in your emotional fit.

“ya mean it?” with your gazes locked, you can finally take in the hidden vulnerability that lies in between his mumbled words. unable to speak with the lump that settles into your throat, you can only nod feverishly in his grip but it isn’t enough as he shakes his head, “say it again” but you respond with your own head shake, finding it hard to grasp onto any words. his rough thumb brushes over your trembling bottom lip soothingly, his tone soft yet encouraging, “ya can, baby.. say it again”

the pet name slips from his lips seamlessly, breaking your resolve as your hand releases the blanket and instead, both reaching out to grip his forearms with soft dry sobs of the words over and over.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

daryl is quick to match your distress with comfort, wrapping one arm around your waist to hold your body flush against his, “i know, i know, i know.. ’s okay baby”

you allow yourself to fall into his arms with a light flush to your cheeks from embarrassment, so quick to fall apart at the slightest coaxing but you needed this. him. you needed him to understand just how much you felt for him and how overwhelming it all was.

his arms are strong, encompassing you in his body heat that lights a fire in your own. your arms snake around his neck, pulling his face closer and it’s enough for him to finally slot your lips together.

despite the growing fever of desire, the kiss remains slow but your grips on each other tighten as he shuffles your bodies into the house, shutting the door all the while keeping his lips attached to yours.

one of his hand slides down your body, gripping your thigh as a signal for you to wrap your legs around him, which you do with a quiet huff.

with blinded knowledge of the layout he takes you to the living room, laying your body gently on the couch.

you shiver at the lack of contact and his piercing stare as he takes in your delicate state. your hair fanning behind your head as the oversized sweatshirt you wear hikes up to your upper thighs, your legs bent yet closed innocently- revealing just the cusp of your bottom to him.

your eyebrows furrow at his longing gaze, poking his leg playfully with your sock covered foot which he grabs. you meet his sharp blue eyes and that growing fire in your stomach heightens at the hunger that lingers in them.

he seems to want to take his time, enjoying the sight of you but the need in you burns painfully for his touch.

tilting your head, you look at him from under your lashes, fluttering them prettily as you reach your hands out towards him.

he comes easily, settling over your body- it should bother you that his clothes remain wet and cold but it soothes your otherwise hot skin when his broad frame settles between your legs.

you’re pulling his lips to meet yours again, letting out a gasp at the sensation, sometimes you forget just how good you guys are together.

having spent years learning how each others bodies work; he knows exactly what touches will have falling apart while gasping his name and you know just how to move to have him desperately coming back for more- you two work together like a well oiled machine.

he lifts off of you, a whimper escaping your throat, “‘s okay baby, jus’ gotta take this off” he’s only able to swipe his signature vest off before you’re sweeping your upper body up to help him unbutton his sleeveless top, “eager, ain’t ya sweethear’?” his hand brushes pieces of your hair behind your ear, finger sliding down your neck and hooking into the crew of your sweatshirt.

you ignore his truthful remark, settling for pushing his shirt off his shoulders before pulling him back over your body, his bare chest pressing through the thick material of your own top yet you feel like you need more.

“more..” you squirm under him as his hands softly wander over your covered frame.

daryl only hushes you, his rough hands sliding under your sweatshirt, meeting the soft skin of your lower stomach, dipping up at your waist, tickling at your ribs until his fingertips skim just under your breasts. you arch beautifully into his hands, eyes hooded in lust as he watches your lips part in a quiet gasp.

your own hands grip at his muscled biceps, fingernails digging in- in anticipated pleasure. your body rolls, thrusting your hips into his in a desperate search of something to ease the throbbing pressure building between your legs.

he seems to take pity on you, lowering his body until he’s eye level to your stomach. his hands bunch up the fabric of your sweatshirt, lifting it just enough to reveal your belly button.

he places kisses under it, a warm and gentle peck that has you sucking your stomach in at the gesture. your hands grip his as you look down, his unruly hair falling into his face, slightly covering his now darkened blue eyes that glanced up every so often to enjoy the way your features contort in bliss. his lips remain on your skin, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he deems fit as he travels up. he keeps up with the lifting of your top, every new layer of revealed skin is left with heated, wet kisses that the air cools over- the sensation of it all, sending a thrilling shiver throughout your whole body.

you can’t seem to control your hips, bucking everytime daryl stops and takes a nibble at your skin before licking over it soothingly.

with your sweatshirt finally bunched under your pits to reveal your breasts to the open air, nipples hardening at the change of temperature. daryl kisses in the valley of your chest before humming to himself when he gets his lips around one of your nipples, his scruff scratching over the soft skin while one of his hands finds your other breast, calloused fingertips running over the nipple.

the change of position has daryls hips pressed right against yours, his jean covered bulge digging into your thinly covered core. a simple roll of your hips has your eyes rolling back, a choked gasp releasing from your mouth at the newfound pleasure.

daryl has switched to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the last before he can’t take anymore of your quiet noises- lifting up to take your lips into another biting kiss. his hands grappling to rip off the sweatshirt over your head as he settles back on his haunches, only a sliver of blue visible in his eyes as he takes in your body - only softening a little as they gaze over your bandaged arm.

your legs settle over his thighs but the more he stares, the more unsure you become and you find your knees turning in- in an attempt to hide the most vulnerable part of yourself but daryl doesn’t let you get far, immediately gripping them to push them back out. one hand holds the crease of your knee, keeping your legs apart while the other slips down to your covered core, fingertips dancing over the wet patch of your panties.

the same way he seems entranced by your figure, you can’t take your eyes off him. on normal circumstances, he never took his time: seemingly too overwhelmed with desire to play things out, only taking exactly what he came for and never lingering after.

now though, his hands eagerly pause to truly appreciate whatever details he’s found of your body. his eyes lost in the way you move, the way you look.. finally he gets the chance to fully indulge the parts of you he never got to take advantage of in your unspoken situationship.

you huff as your hips press more firmly into his hands, daryls eyebrows raising in amusement at your clear impatience.

“jus’ wanted ta look at m’ girl” his mocking tone only burns the flames hotter in your body, “tha’s wha’ ya are, hm? mine?” he pushes your panties to the side, your dripping core pulsing in anticipation. he drags his fingertips through the wetness, collecting it before spreading it messily over your lips. he barely skims over your clit but the teasing has your senses on high and you find yourself unable to stop the twitch of your hips, “say it” his motions stop, fingers hovering over you as you meet his darkened gaze.

“i’m yours” your voice is broken, meek and so so beautiful to him, “please, ‘m yours”

maybe another time you’d feel embarrassed about being so desperate but the softness of his hands: the loving way he tends to your neediness has you on cloud nine.

“mm, ‘ve got ya” his gravely voice is only getting deeper, rumbling deep into his chest as he allows two thick fingers to slide into your pulsating hole. after years of being together, your body takes to him easily, opening to accommodate his digits.

“yes…” you hiss as you toss your head back, legs twitching as they threaten to close around his hand, a weak attempt to lock in the pleasure somehow.

daryl only grunts before his fingers are moving, hooking them everytime they slide out to target your gspot, thumb brushing against your throbbing clit. his pace is slower than normal, dragging out the sensation until you forget your name.

your impending orgasm is closer than you thought, his previous teasing ministrations having more of an effect on your body than the rushed ones you’ve endured before- not that those weren’t good but this, this felt stronger and harder to hold back.

as if sensing the same thing, daryls fingers pick up the pace until a slight squelch of your slick is heard over your gasping moans.

“gunna come fo’ me?” it’s sort of useless of him to ask as your eyes threaten to fall into the back your head, your body rolling into his hand uncontrollably and the obvious mewls of pleasure that spill from your lips- yet, you answer in a clumsy nod.

daryl doubles down in his actions, somehow shuffling even closer as he keeps his fingers inside of you and only thrusting deeper with curled fingertips, thumb messily moving over your sensitive clit.

the choked out moan you let out breaks in half into a high pitched squeal, knees helplessly knocking together while your hands reach out to grasp any part of the couch, you could get your hands on as your high hits.

“tha’s it..” the words are more of a growl as daryl watches you fall apart, your cries a muttered mixture of his name and sobs of pure pleasure until your left sinking into the couch with watery doe eyes, flushed cheeks, messy hair, and the heavy rise and fall of your naked chest.

his fingers only linger inside you for a moment more before pulling them out, lifting them to his mouth in a seemless action. he hums happily around his soaked digits as you whimper at the sight, shaky thighs opening back up despite your still throbbing core.

his hands fall to caress the smooth surface of them, eyes lost in the mess of your cunt until your hands reach out, fingers barely tickling over the bulge in his jeans. his hips push forward more and the response is enough for you to lift up, scrambling to unbutton his jeans and hurriedly pulling his cock out from his briefs.

he sits heavy in your palm, angry red tip with decorative blue veins down his shaft. your mouth waters at the sight and you go to lean forward, prepared to make him a mess as much as he did you but a hand grips the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair to tilt your eyes up at him.

your eyes are lust blown and so very eager, only to twinkle with confusion at his next words, “i’ll come too soon”

you pout, “want you too”

at your indignant tone, he cracks a small smile. hand coming up to cup your chin, thumb brushing softly over your lips before falling onto your tongue when you open your mouth- keen on showing him exactly what he is missing out on when the slick muscle swirls around his finger, cheeks holllowing sharply as you bob your head sinfully.

you can feel his cock twitch violently in your hand, your own thumb swiping over his tip to the oozing precum that continuously drips out.

entranced by you, it takes daryl a second to fully pull away: enjoying the suction of his digit and the soft pull of your hand on his cock but he finds the control to back away.

your eyesbrows pull together in confusion, a flash of hurt covering your features when he stands up from the couch- a sudden doubtful feeling that this isn’t what you thought it was settling into your head.

“not going anywhere, jus’ takin’ my jeans off sweethear’” his reassuring words ease the tension in your body as you melt back into the couch. his briefs come down with his jeans, revealing his familiar broad body to your eyes, except now, you’re able to fully take him in: fully appreciate his scars, his muscles, his tattoos.. everything that makes him- him. the many reasons you’ve found yourself falling for him before you could even catch yourself, “wha’s that look for?”

you hadn’t even realized you were staring at him a certain way as he settles back inbetween your legs after helping you disgard the last few articles of clothing on your own body.

you squirm under his tickling hands as they graze over your body in a loving manner, you release of sigh of bliss at the motions. his fingers dancing around your waist until you look back into his eyes that hold a questioning gaze.

“just.. love you” you shrug nonchalantly, breaking the intense gaze as your fingers reach out the fiddle with the ones still at your waist- an uncertainty to your already fragile tone.

an obvious fear that you may say the wrong thing, running him off to the hills after getting only a sliver of what could be.

your not sure what to expect but it isn’t his fingers tangling into yours, locking them together and squeezing to gain your attention again.

his chest presses against yours as he leans closer to your face, pecking your lips softly a couple of times before mumbling the words bashfully against them, “love ya too”

you’re at a loss of words, gasping softly as your hands untangle from his to grasp at his face, fingers brushing the stray hairs away so you could get a clear look of his face.

his sight lowers, staring more at your chin in obvious embarrassment, alongside the flash of red that spreads over the apple of his cheeks.

you bite your lip in hopes of curbing your amused smile but you can’t- too overjoyed with his words as you force him to look at you and as if seeing the clear happiness of your own features, he fights to hide his own.

“say it again” you sweetly mock his words from earlier, making daryl rolls his eyes playfully, grumbling as he shifts above you. the new position having his cock pressed against your core- sending a thrilling shock of heat through both you as if you had forgotten where you guys were.

a gasp releasing from both of your mouths as you move against one another, searching for that pleasurable feeling again.

you’re just finding a good rhythm, timing the roll of your hips perfectly with his so that the head of his cock nails your swelling clit everytime but he sits back- an action that has you whining in protest.

“quit tha’” he slaps a hand on your thigh, your body jerking at the delicious sting it brings, before he is guiding his cock to your slick hole. your senses are in overdrive after your first orgasm, the slow stretch of him pushing into you is a tad overwhelming as you reach out for one of his hands. his expression softens, his free hand rubbing soothingly up and down your thigh, even leaning over to press a little kiss on your knee.

your eyes are closed, chest heaving in deep breaths as you feel him enter you inch by inch slowly. in a normal fit of hurried passion, driven by nothing but lust, these moments are easily skipped over. fast paced with only one goal; release.

but now, as you grip onto one hand, his other softly grazing over your body with the odd kiss: it’s nothing but in the rawest form of love.

the simplicity of intimacy.

pressed all the way in, you find your body quickly morphing around the intrusion of him and your eyes finally open, finding his own on your face.

“‘kay?” physically feeling his small loving touches give no justice to the way his eyes glimmer fondly, a small hint of relief in them as if he has been waiting equally as long for you as you have for him.

maybe he has.. maybe his lack of emotions was a protective wall around his heart incase you didn’t truly feel anything for him- other than the odd fleeting need of release.

but you do, you always have and you try your best to convey that through your own expression while nodding to his question.

he chooses in that moment to move, sliding his cock out and slowly thrusting back in.

“ah..” your lips open in a blissful gasp, hips rolling down to meet his.

“yeah?” his tone is soft, hand coming down so his thumb could rub at your swollen clit, the shock of pleasure having you clench around his sensitive cock: a reaction that has him groaning, body slouching until his naked chest rests against yours, his face falling into your neck as his thrusts become more desperate.

your free hand comes to rest on the back of his head, tangling into the unruly strands as he bites at your collarbone with growls of pleasure. your still linked hands press further into the couch, now next to your head as this new position only allows your bodies to slide against each other but it’s enough. your sensitivity bringing your second release faster than the first while daryl heads for his first one after holding back for so long.

his hips stutter against your constant rolling, an attempt to make this last a little bit longer but you only torture him further- intentionally squeezing your walls around him.

“fuck” he pants hotly against your neck, “‘m gonna come if ya don’ stop”

“want you too” you huff back as your motions double down, the combination of your cunt clenching around his thick pulsing cock and the consistent sway of your body against him only pushes him closer to coming but he no longer fights it.

your stomach is tightening in heat as you yank his hair, forcing his head to come out from your neck, teeth clashing a bit clumsy as you pull his mouth to yours.

“do it” you egg him on, lips barely brushing his as he grits his teeth, “‘m yours, yeah? show me”

your bodies slide easily with the building layer of sweat on your skin from the amount of exertion you both use to challenge the other.

“fuckin’..” daryl presses his lips harshly against yours before his hips jerk sharply as he cums, groaning loudly and dropping his forehead on yours as he pants through the buzzing pleasure.

the sight has you nearing your own orgasm, gasping brokenly as you feel his cock twitch, painting your walls white and claiming you in a primal way that sends tingles from your stomach to your toes.

“please.. ‘m so close” you beg prettily as daryls orgasm passes, his attention immediately focusing on your approaching second one as he thrusts shallowly: so deep you feel him hitting spots that bring tears to your eyes, momentarily blurring your vision.

the quick build up has you babbling nothing but nonsense and the odd slip of his name. he has to lean back to take in the enticing vision you’ve become, head thrown back with your eyes shut tight, pink plump lips open to let out the most delicate sounds.

both of your hands now hold his biceps in a deathly grip, trying to find something to ground you as your high gets closer.

daryl tips forward to bite playfully at your chin, “look at me sweethear’”

you whimper before complying, dropping your head down heavily to peer up at him through wet lashes. he holds the eye contact as his hips increase in pace and force, now with his hands free: one settles next to your head, balancing his body above you while the other grips at your waist, pulling you down to meet his.

your second orgasm teeters on the edge of release and it’s like daryl can sense it, leaning down to connect your lips once more before mumbling against them, “‘m girl looks so pretty, hm? tha’s it… gonn’ come one more time fo’ me? promise i’ll take care of ya, let me see sweethear’.. told ya i love ya”

the heartfelt words send you over, your hands pulling him closer as you arch up into him. your eyes roll to the back of your head, cunt clenching tightly around his sensitive cock and thighs trembling around his hips. your cries of pure joy are followed by dry sobs as you try and catch your breath after such an intense high.

daryl is quick to meet your fragile state, petting your hair down as he places small kisses all over your cheeks, nose, corner of your lips, chin, neck, anywhere he could reach as you go through the full motions of your orgasm.

when your body drops heavily back into the couch, your eyes are shut in exhaustion, fully residing in his sweet pampering. the ticklish feeling of his scruffy beard against your neck has you giggling breathlessly, which only results in him groaning in response as you unconsciously squeeze around him.

he lifts to fully pull himself out of your body, both of you hissing in mild discomfort. for a split second as he removes his body completely and stands, you expect him to begin putting his clothes on, preparing to take his usual swift leave but instead he reaches under your body, lifting you bridal style.

“daryl!” you squeal as your arms wrap around his shoulders, an amused smirk falling onto his face as he carries you up the stairs to your ensuite bathroom in silence.

your next actions are equally as quiet, him leaving to grab towels and clothes while you use the restroom and begin the shower. standing infront of the mirror, you take in the new lovebites that scatter around your naked body, luckily in spots you can hide easily. a flush taking over your features even more when he appears in similar fashion: completely nude with scratches and nail indents- a true mess you’ve made of one another.

he hides a coy smile as he saddles behind you, taking in the mere sight he created upon you. you shiver when his hands settle on your hips before slipping to wrap around your front, pulling your back into his chest as he pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

all of his motions tender and loving- something you’ve yearned after for years from him.

and it’s finally happening, a little quicker than you thought too but maybe a little bit of coaxing from both sides is all you guys needed to fall into the right rhythm.

you feel a bit ridiculous that it took this long but the reality of it happening now, you can’t seem to linger on anything other than pure happiness as he holds you so closely.

his blue eyes peek up from behind your shoulder, “‘kay?”

your eyes sparkle with newfound warmth, “i’m okay, you?”

he playfully nibbles at your shoulder, tightening his hold on you even more as you laugh delightfully in response.

the shower is quick, intimate, soft and loving. both of you tending to one another as if you’ve done it for years and maybe you have in your own odd ways- daryl always keeping an eye out for you on supply runs, making sure you had enough for dinner even if it meant giving up some of his, bringing back things he knows you’ll like but gifting them anonymously while you loved him unconditionally, selflessly more giving than taking, accepting his many flaws and mistakes, understanding when he needs space, caring for him in all the ways he would allow you from afar.

he felt like he had a lot of making up to do but once again, you didn’t care as you laid upon his naked chest. freshly cleaned with minimal clothing on, your bodies lay above the sheets, basking in the cool breeze that flowed through the cracked window of your bedroom. the aftermath of the storm bringing glimpses of sunlight and light wind.

a certain calmness relaying over the both of you.

your leg was thrown over his hips, warm body pressed entirely to his side as your head rose with the slow rise and fall movement of his chest, the beating of his heart thudding softly in your ear as one of his hands softly rub your back, the other splaying across his own stomach, loosely wrapped around the wrist of your hand that continues to trace hearts on his chest.

if there was a way to touch you, he was doing it- enjoying the fact that you too, wanted this and diving head first into everything clumsily but oh so sweetly.

the heavy weight of his arms around your body and the warm consistent press of his hands was only a constant reminder that this was infact real.

he was here to finally just stay.

and while you know that this only the beginning, that both of you had to have real, long, uncomfortable conversations about your feelings- this was more than enough for now.

just you, him and his soft hands.

[theodorecanaryhood]

New Years Eve

A New Year one shot.

Jason Todd x Male! Reader

Jason held your hand tightly in his as you walked through the streets.

Jason wouldn’t normally allow you out so late in this city, being protective and all, but he was happy that you were with him.

‘Not too long’ Jason smiled as he saw the street leading to Roy’s house.

You opted for an Uber as neither of you would be sober to drive home after. However, Jason being a romantic thought better to have a slow walk.

Only 25 minutes from where the two of you live, so it was ok. Jason just felt so happy to have your hand in his. Feeling like he’s won the lottery every time you kiss, or touch him in any way.

‘Hey Roy’ you called out as you approached the house, Roy ran over to the two of you.

Giving you both a big hug, seemingly already had a few drinks by now.

Roy’s new house was great and well built, the decor was freshly done before the holidays. The smell of fresh paint and the lighting seeming clean.

‘Let’s have some drinks’ Roy cheered as he poured you both your typical poison.

You simply stuck with the Gin, Jason the Whiskey and Roy the beer.

This night 4 years ago, you were at Roy’s house and you were introduced to his best friend Jason. The two of you had drinks together.

Seemed like a meet-cute as you found you’d got an instant attraction to Jason, him obviously feeling the same.

You took a jump and chose to kiss Jason at midnight.

That seemed a lifetime ago, and now here you are. Once again waiting for the big moment of 00:00, when a year ends and a new one comes.

‘I love you so much’ Jason says as he grabs your face in his large hands and plants a wet kiss on your lips.

‘I love you too, is that the drinks or you talking?’ You chuckle.

Jason pulls a fake offended face, as you begin to laugh. Jason wraps you in a hug as he kisses you again.

‘I never let drink or people talk for me’ he says as his breath gives off the smell of his drinks.

You started to feel lightheaded as you notice the buzzed feeling you get, more shots are served and Roy has his music playing so loud.

You all listen to the songs playing when Jason takes your hand in his.

‘I love this song, dance with me baby’ Jason pulls you up on your feet.

Jason places his hands on your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

You didn’t even pay attention to the song that was playing, you just paid attention to Jason’s hands on you.

‘5 minutes till midnight’ Roy called out, you not even noticing the time going.

You poured another drink for you and Jason, Jason who was now smoking outside.

The last five minutes of the year flew by as you watched Roy let off all the fireworks, Jason pulled you in for a deep kiss.

‘Happy New Year sweetness’ Jason smiled, kissing you again.

‘Happy New Year’ you smiled back, watching as Jason took another drag of his smoke.

You partied hard for the remainder of what you could remember, somewhere around 3am or so, you figured probably best to sleep.

No Ubers or anything would be quick to pick up due to the night. So you both opted to sleep at Roy’s.

Jason held you in his arms for the rest of the night, his large form burying you. You needed no blankets with Jason next to you.

You smiled as you drifted off into sleep, smiling knowing you had yet another year with Jason. Your love.

Happy New Year everyone!

[crazylittlejester]

(link to series where all of these are being posted: Jes Does Whumptober 2024)

• Day One [Race Against The Clock]: Out of Time

• Day Two [Trust Issues]: Third Shift

• Day Three [Set Up For Failure]: Nobody’s Coming To Save You (Get Up)

• Day Four [Hallucinations]: Brother’s Keeper

• Day Five [Sunburn]: Sun Cursed

• Day Six [Not Realizing They’re Injured]: ‘Blissful’ Ignorance

• Day Seven [Unconventional Weapon]: Too Weird To Love, Too Scared To Die

• Day Eight [Sleep Deprivation]: Pressure

• Day Nine [Obsession]: Drifting

• Day Ten [Blow To The Head]: The Bees Are Real, Captain

• Day Eleven [Seeing Double]: A Little More Time

• Day Twelve [Starvation]: The Things That Make You Special Are The Things That Make You Strange

• Day Thirteen [Alt Prompt: Body Swap]: A Walk In His Boots (What Is WRONG With Your Choice In Footwear???)

• Day Fourteen [Left For Dead]: The Impossible

• Day Fifteen [Alt Prompt: Shivering]: Winter Wonderla- Oh… Oh Dear-

• Day Sixteen [Wound Cleaning]: An Untimely Lesson

• Day Seventeen [Nowhere Else To Go]: Till The End

• Day Eighteen [Loss of Identity]: Love, Me Normally

• Day Nineteen [Alt Prompt: Friendly Fire]: The Storm

• Day Twenty [Emotional Angst]: Little Sailor

• Day Twenty One [Body Horror]: The Broken Mask

• Day Twenty Two [Bleeding Through Bandages]: Wait.

• Day Twenty Three [Forced Choice]: Come What May

• Day Twenty Four [Alt Prompt: Secrets Revealed]: Secrets (Un)known

• Day Twenty Five [Stitches]: Anything That Can Go Wrong, Will

• Day Twenty Six [Nightmares]: Nobody’s Promised Tomorrow

• Day Twenty Seven [Voiceless]: To Rest and To Heal

• Day Twenty Eight [Denial]: Poisoned Oranges

• Day Twenty Nine [Fatigue]: Exhaustion Within

• Day Thirty [Recovery]: The Sounds of Rain (Go Back To Sleep)

• Day Thirty One [Asking For Help]:

• BONUS!! [Alt Prompt: Time Loop]:

[STARTED] [COMPLETED]