#(the one who clenches his fist and fucking *fixes* this goddamned place)
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Such a Slut
Bakugou Katsuki x afab reader
Contains: slight breath play, 'dom' reader, 'switch' Bakugou, language, marking, kissing, v v tiny 'handjob' (if you can even call it that), degrading, think that's it?
A/N: please someone tell me WHERE to get the pretty little banners from, the smutty ones, the cute ones. I just want some pretty banners cuz I feel like my posts need to be prettier. Also venturing out a little here with Bakugou, really hope I did him some justice. I just wanna put him in his place sometimes, you know? Fuck with him a little. As always, read with caution and such. Word count is a little over 1,000. If that matters.
Thirst Thursday?
“You’re such a slut, Katsuki.”
The blonde whips his head toward you, his ruby-red eyes wide in shock and anger. “Hah?! The fuck did you just call me?! You damn-” You giggle, twirling a strand of hair around your finger, cutting him off, “You’re a slut.” Katsuki's face turns redder by the second, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles begin turning white, small blasts coming from them. You swear you could see steam shooting from his ears.
“I mean look at you. Dressed like a slut.” You grin cheekily, teasingly, and he scowls. “The fuck do you mean? How is my hero suit slutty?” It brings you the utmost joy. The utmost pleasure seeing him so furious. You smirk, “Oh come on, Katsuki. You don’t see it?” Your words only seem to anger him further, you can see it. In the way his nostrils flare, the way the veins in his neck seem to bulge out, and the way his forehead begins to dampen with sweat. All because of you.
His stance his deliciously broad shoulders hidden in his sleek hero suit are tense, like the rest of him is. His fingers clench and unclench, his hard gaze fixed on you and that stupid, shit-eating grin you continue to wear. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not a slut and I never-” You cut him off, faking a pout, “Oh but Katsuki, you are. A big slut, and you pretend you aren’t but deep down you are. The biggest, sluttiest-” This time, it’s him who cuts you off, speaking through gritted teeth, his fist slamming into a nearby wall. “I swear if you call me that one more goddamn time, I’m gonna blow your fuckin’ head off! You hear me, Y/N?! I’m not no damn slut! It’s my goddamn hero suit, you brainless twig! Idiot! I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but stop calling me that!”
You feign innocence, tapping your index finger against your lip. “Calling you what, Katsuki? A slut?” You smirk as his hand slams into the wall again, denting it this time, and curses tumble from his lips. “Damn you, Y/N! The hell is wrong with you?! I warned you, didn’t I?!” His heavy boots thump thump thump towards you and, in a matter of seconds, he’s looming over you. His hands come crashing into the wall on either side of your head, caging you between it and his body, his voice low and menacing. Bingo.
“You little brat. Calling me a slut. Who the fuck do you think you are? I bet you’re some little freak who gets off on this shit. Your panties drenched or something? Filthy fucking brat. This must be some sick fetish of yours, right? Something you do before you go rub one out? You’re pathetic and sick, Y/N. I’m gonna beat the living shit outta you, you goddamn-”
“Kiss me.” He freezes, his eyes going wide and his mouth falling open in shock. He stares at you, dumbfounded, dizziness overcoming him, and everything else fades away. Time seems to slow around him now, his mind replaying your words over, and over again. He can’t believe it. Just minutes ago you were insulting him and now you want him to…kiss you? His anger just dissipates in an instant, shock showing in his features, except in his eyes. His eyes hold a different emotion, a certain desire. You smirk, satisfaction showing in your features, a certain smugness he wishes he could wipe off.
So he does.
He grabs you, holds you firmly against him, presses his big, bulky frame against your smaller one, and crashes his lips onto yours. It’s a messy kiss, an angry one. His gloved hand tangles in your hair, his fingers gripping and tugging at the strands to force your head back. His free hand, which was gripping resting on your hip, moves up to rest on the wall behind you, his palm flattening against it. He feels like he’s got the upper hand, especially when he further traps you between his body and the wall behind you. So, when he parts his lips and swipes his tongue along your bottom one, he expects you to open your mouth and grant him the access he’s demanding.
He doesn’t expect your hand to wrap around his throat. For you to squeeze your hand, cutting off his oxygen. He doesn’t expect you to part your lips, for your tongue to venture into his mouth and dominate the kiss he was once in control of. He doesn’t expect you to push him back, to guide him until the backs of his deliciously muscular thighs meet a wooden table. He doesn’t expect your lips to wrap around his tongue, for your hand to tighten around his throat again. And he certainly doesn’t expect the guttural groan that slips past his lips.
Of all the things he never expected, he certainly didn’t expect to enjoy this treatment. Especially from you. But when he feels the familiar tightening of his pants he knows he needs more. Before he can even think of taking back control, your free hand travels down his chest and your lips leave his. Tracing over the muscles of his toned torso, your lips press against his defined jaw before moving down to the column of his throat.
As your hand continues to make its way down, your lips press hot, wet kisses along his throat, licking, sucking, and biting the sensitive skin there, pulling more groans from him. His breath hitches when your fingers graze against his throbbing dick confined in his pants. Just as he’s about to roll his hips forward, seeking more of your touch, you pull your hand away. A chuckle slips past your lips as you kiss your way up to his ear, your lips grazing the tip of it, your voice dropping noticeably. “Now now Katsuki. I thought you weren’t a slut? What happened?”
A low growl, a rumble from his chest, reverberates through your body as he speaks deathly low, his fingers gripping the edge of the table. “What the fuck-” He’s cut off mid-sentence by you firmly squeezing the bulge, even more prominent now. He hisses softly at the sudden friction, his hips rolling into your palm unconsciously, his mind beginning to cloud over. He thanks whatever god there is when your hand slowly rubs across his clothed dick instead of pulling away, giving him a taste of what he could have.
His eyes flicker up to yours, down to your hand rubbing against his bulge, then back up to your eyes, unsure of where to settle his gaze. Your lips graze his ear once more as you move in to kiss him. Stopping just mere inches away from his lips, your breath fans across his face softly as you murmur. “It’s okay, Katsuki. Don’t worry. You’re my slut.”
"And I'll treat you accordingly."
#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou smut#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha smut#mha smut#bnha x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki x you#katsuki smut#bakugou thirst#katsuki thirst#simpywrites#simpy attempts#female reader#smut#thirst post#simpy is thirsty#thirst hours#thirst thursday?
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Omg congrats!!! I just can't stop thinking about Tom making reader squirt for the first time and she's all embarrassed by it but tom is assuring her that it was hot af 🌷
Thank youu! Sorry for taking that long, but here we go! Also i got a little carried away, dont mind it
Warnings: SMUT (+18), dom!tom, slight degradation (name calling), fingering (f), squirting, unprotected sex, typos for sure.
You couldn't lie and say you didn't deserve what was happening right, you had been a tease the whole day with Tom, walking around the house in nothing but his t-shirt, no panties in the way, bending every now and then just to pick something you dropped on purpose, and massaging his shoulders every time you made a shitty excuse to go and talk to him while he was working.
And now there were you, head dizzy, chest coming up and down in panting breathing while you approached your high for the fourth time in a row... or maybe it was the sixth? You couldn't remember anymore. Tom was edging you for so long that all you could sense now was the wetness between your legs, the squeaky sounds it made when his two fingers entered your throbbing pussy with determination.
"Are you close, my love?", he asks, his chest vibrating against your back, his lips on your ear, bitting your skin slightly from time to time. You bite your lips, too scared of the tricky question, but still too aware that it was nonsense keeping it from him -- Tom knew when you were close. He knew your body from your head to toe.
"Yes, Tommy", you whine lowly, voice lost in between your moans and incoherent pleads for release. "Please- let me come".
"Course, darling", though his voice held nothing but sweetness, you knew it wouldn't work that easy. He took his fingers out of you and you squirmed in protest. "But only when I'm sure my girl has learnt her lesson. Do you understand why I'm doing this? Eh?"
He grips your jaw, making you look at him. You can feel his hard cock against your back, throbbing with every movement you make towards him.
"Yes", you drawl, too weak to answer something else. In front of you, there's a mirror, the one that is always standing in your shared bedroom. Tom liked to keep it that way, so whenever you both felt like it, he'd fuck you in front of it. Usually, you loved it, you loved watching yourself come undone, watching Tom take control and fuck you to oblivion. But today, today was different.
You were a mess, completely wrecked, and though you loved the fact that it was Tom who made you feel like this, you wanted to reach your high desperately.
"Everything okay?", he asks, peppering kisses along your jaw. He always made sure to ask before going back to edging you again. You nod your head, but it's not enough. "What's the word, sweetheart?"
"Green... green, you can- keep going", you respond, bitting your lips and closing your eyes and his hand slides down your inner thigh, so close to your heat. "Please, I wanna cum".
Tom gives you a harsh slap there and you jolt. "You're gonna get what I give you, brat. What is it? Did you not learn a fucking thing?"
You exhale a sharp breathe and shake your head. "I'm sorry, Tommy. I'll be good, I promise".
"You sure are", he smirks, rubbing the skin smoothly. "Cause you're my good little thing, aren't you?"
You nod and try to reach his lips, turning your head to the side. He kisses you deeply, but only for a brief moment. "You wanna take my cock?"
Before you can realise, you're whining in response, trying to grind your ass against his length. "Fuck, you're so greedy", he moans in your ear. "I'm gonna give it to you, pretty girl. C'mere".
You manage to adjust your position to align yourself with him, knees on bed as you feel your arousal slipping between your legs. Tom's eyes are fixed in your ass, teeth grazing his lower lip as his hands are gripping your waist to help you align your entrance with his cock.
He teases you a bit more, his red tip brushing your clit until you are forcing yourself down on him. This wasn't supposed to be something you'd do, but fortunately for you, Tom didn't seem to mind this time, too anxious to get your walls hugging him tightly.
"Fuck, always so bloody tight, darling", he moans, planting his feet on the mattress before starting to pound into you. "No matter how many times I fuck this hole".
You whimper, your belly already tightening as your high was close already. "Tommy, please, don't stop".
Tom chuckles between whines coming from the back of his throat, "You like begging to me, don't you, baby? Don't even have to ask, my greedy little thing".
Your head falls back and Tom gets the chance to grip your jaw and kiss you hard, lips messy and sometimes losing their contact as he thrusts his hips deeper, faster, making the sounds of your skin slapping echo through the room.
"Shit, Tom, I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum", you moan, your walls clenching around him viciously.
But before you can finally enjoy your sweet release, Tom pushes you towards the mattress, making you gasp in surprise. Your hair was all over the place, the palm of your hands laying flat against the mattress as your confused brain tries to catch on what was happening before Tom pulls out of you just to bottom out in a precise and deep thrust, the last one before he pulls out again.
"This is not how it works, sweetheart. Didn't learn anything, did you? Turn around, brat", he commands and you do as you're told, rolling on bed before he takes a hold of both of your wrists and pin your hands above your head. "You have to ask for it, love", he slaps the each one of your inner tights and you arch your back in pleasure and pain. "Thought it was pretty obvious by now".
"Fuck, fuck, 'm sorry, Tommy. Please, lemme cum", you cry out, bucking your hips towards him, but all you get is a mischievous smirk.
"You're gonna come, baby, but only after I'm finished. How does it sound, eh? Do you want my cum, pretty girl?"
You nod eagerly, licking your lips as he releases your hands. He takes a hold of his cock on one hand, lazily stroking it, and takes your hand on the other one, bringing it to his mouth. He places a kiss on the tip of your fingers, "You're gonna play with your clit f'me, alright? But you're not cumming. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Tommy", you whimper, bitting your lips as he licks your finger, spreading wetness before placing them over your bundle of nerves, and you start to give it slow circle motions, trying not to apply too much pressure to not cum before time.
"Yeah, baby, like that", he moans, fastening the movements of his hand over his length. "Oh, fuck, you're so gorgeous, 'm so fucking lucky".
You moan, breathing getting heavier as you bite your lips hard to hold yourself back.
"I'm close, darling", his shoulders fall towards you, his back curving as his high approaches violently. "Spread your legs a bit more"
"Cum on me, Tommy", you said, widening your legs, giving him enough view of your soaked core.
It took him only a few more intense strokes before he came, his white hot cum falling all over your pussy, making you clench around nothing. "Fuck, fuck", he rode himself through his high, eyes heavy as he tried to keep a look on you, on your bare pussy, your wetness and his cum painting you like a goddamn work of art. "Shit, look at you", he pants, recovering from his orgasm. "Gotta make you cum, pretty girl. Been so good to me".
You nod eagerly and jolt slightly when he slaps his hand over yours, taking it away from your clit and replacing with his thumb.
Tom straightened himself over bed, his eyes never leaving yours and he got down on you, his lips hungry and precise to make you cum as quick as possible and put and end to your suffering. You close your eyes, tilting your head back as your mouth falls open to a silent moan that gets stuck on the back of your throat.
Tom's fingers enters you and he doesn't take longer to curl them inside of you, making you whine and squirm with the closeness of your high.
"C'mon, love, you can cum now, cum on my mouth, pretty girl", he hums against your pussy lips, licking until he hits your clit, his fingers never stopping his work.
The edges, the great amount of stimulation, everything comes back to you as you orgasm hits your body, making you shiver and your body start to tremble. You moan Tom's name loudly, and he takes a hold of your hand when you starts to fist the sheets so strongly it gets your knuckles to turn white.
"Fuck, fuck, oh, my-", you let it all go away and feel the wetness of the sheets beneath you, while your hips buck towards Tom's face.
"Shit", you hear him gasp, taking his fingers out of you. You open your eyes slowly, breathing still coming in pants, and it takes a little while until you can focus on anything.
The first thing that you see is Tom's face covered in wetness, but it's not like other times he eats you out. His chin is visibly covered on it, and when you prop your elbows on the mattress to take a better look, you see his hands also covered on it. The sheets have a big stain of your cum and you can already feel your face turning red.
"You squirted", Tom said, eyes twinkling with something you couldn't recognize at first, a smirk on his face, but embarrassed as you felt, you assumed he was going to make fun of it.
"Oh, my God, I'm sorry", you whined, covering your face with your hands. "Shit, I've never- I've never done that before, I'm really sorr-"
"What?", Tom gasped, taking your hands out of your face. The smirk was still there, his brown eyes deep and bright. "What are you apologizing for?"
You blink, a bit confused at first.
"Don't you- uh, don't you think it's... gross?"
Tom scoffs, shaking his head. "Are you kidding me? That was the hottest thing I've ever seen", he said, eyebrows cocking. "And what the fuck, you mean, this was your first time doing it?"
You nod sheepishly and his smirk turn somehow even more cocky. "Fuck it, we need to do that again", he shakes his head un disbelief, leaning in to kiss you. You can taste yourself, "You're so fucking hot, darling, can't believe you're all mine".
You sigh in relief, easing yourself and letting yourself enjoy the kiss and the bliss you were still on after the intense orgasm. Eventually, Tom made you get out of bed, carrying you to a hot bath to take care of you and some light sores you might have gotten, but he didn't let you go get some rest before making sure you knew that was the first time, but not the last.
#hoodie 600's sleepover#tom holland#tom holland blurbs#tom holland imagines#tom holland fic#tom x reader#smut#tom holland smut
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Protector (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)
A/N: In most of my Arthur fics, if I mention the reader’s horse his name is Calvin and he’s blind in one eye so if you’ve noticed it that’s awesome! If you haven’t no worries! I just wanted to point it out before anyone gets confused. I’m not sure how many times I’ve mentioned it but I know in my head that’s how it is 😂
Warnings: Micah being a dick, no actual animal abuse but it almost happens, Micah roughly grabs reader but that’s it, nothing out of canon
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: You can defend yourself. Arthur knows this. But he makes sure Micah knows you aren’t the only reason he should keep his hands to himself.
***
You hummed softly to yourself as you helped Mr. Pearson prepare dinner.
You looked up from the potato in your hand for a moment, eyes flickering around camp to take count of who was present.
Mrs. Grimshaw had pulled Pearson away from his wagon and all the way to the other side of camp. Mary-Beth was sitting on a chair near her shared tent with the girls, busying herself with a book in hand.
Abigail and Jack were towards the back of camp. Abigail was doing her best at keeping Jack occupied with the flowers growing in the grass back there. Molly was fixing her makeup in her tent at the center of camp.
Micah was near the horses, messing with a saddle bag on his horse. Everyone else was gone. Today was one of those days that everyone was busy away from camp.
“Son of a bitch!”
You lifted your head up from the potatoes you were peeling, turning your attention to where the horses were hitched.
Micah stood by your horse, a gray Dutch Warmblood named Calvin. Micah was cradling his hand to his chest as he cursed, but then he looked at your horse and pulled his fist back as if to strike the animal.
You were on your feet and crossing camp in a matter of seconds, grabbing the back of his coat and pulling him away from your horse.
“Don’t you dare put your hands on my horse, Micah Bell.” You spoke through clenched teeth, holding the knife you’d been using to peel potatoes in your hand at your side.
“That damn bastard of a horse bit me! Nearly took off my fucking hand!”
“Then don’t get close enough to him for him to grab you!” You raised your voice to match his, holding his gaze as he glared at you.
Micah took a step towards you, knowing very well that he could use his height to appear more intimidating. But you weren’t one to back down so easily.
“Maybe if someone taught you a lesson in manners, that horse would behave better.”
“You don’t get to say shit about me and my manners, Bell.” You shook your head, pointing at him with the tip of the knife. “Don’t touch my horse, or I’ll put a knife between your ribs.”
You moved to return to the potatoes but Micah wasn’t about to let you off so easily.
“Now see, girl, I don’t much care for that attitude you have.” He grabbed your arm and pulled you back around to face him. You didn’t even get a chance to use the knife to defend yourself because he’d grabbed the arm that you held the knife in.
“Let me go, Micah.” You spoke through your teeth, glaring up at him.
“Oh, Mr. Morgan isn’t here to save you, sweetheart. You’ve gotta face the consequences of your actions.” He smirked as he looked down at you. His grip on your arm was unbelievably tight and no matter how much you tried to get loose, you couldn’t seem to break free. “Don’t you raise your voice at me like I’m some little bitch of yours. I’m not your cowpoke. I ain’t scared of you, and I ain’t scared–,”
You cut him off by headbutting him. He immediately released you and stumbled back, cursing.
“Don’t put your hands on my horse, Micah Bell.” You repeated your warning, readjusting your grip on your knife.
“You think you’re big and bad because you’re sleepin’ with Morgan, don’t you?” Micah took a step towards you, wiping the blood from his lip. “Goddamned whore! Probably sleeping with half the fucking camp too!”
“Micah!” Charles called his name.
You turned your head to see Charles moving towards you and Micah.
“Is she sleeping with you?” Micah pointed an accusing finger at Charles but Charles ignored him.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Charles asked you.
“I’m fine, Charles.” You gave him a little smile, hoping that maybe he’d let the whole thing go. “Just had to have some words with Micah.”
“Looks like it was a little more than a few words.” Charles glared at Micah before following you back towards Pearson’s wagon.
“Well, with someone like Micah Bell, words barely get through to him.” You returned to peeling potatoes. “Too damn stubborn.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Just a few moments later, Arthur, Bill, Javier, and Lenny returned to camp, hitching their horses up beside Calvin.
Bill tethered Brown Jack to the same post Calvin was on.
“Be careful of Calvin, Bill.” Lenny warned, pointing to your horse. “He likes takin’ a piece off of whoever passes by too close.”
You grinned a little as you listened to them joke around about Calvin. He was a sweet horse, he was just crotchety and being that he was blind in one eye didn’t help that either.
“I think it’s just you boys he don’t like.” You spoke up as the small group made their way into camp. “Kieran can brush him down any time of day and Calvin is just as sweet as could be.”
“That’s ‘cause Kieran sneaks the old man treats.” Javier spoke as he sat down at the table not too far away from Pearson’s wagon. “Found out how to get to Calvin’s heart. Sugarcubes.”
“Oh, it’s just ‘cause Kieran’s a sweet kid.” You teased, eyes flickering up to watch Arthur.
He grunted, shaking his head.
“Ain’t nothin’ sweet about an O’Driscoll.”
You finished cutting up the potato in your hand and then put the knife down.
“Damn bastard!” Karen shouted as she hitched her horse to a post.
“Who are you cursing at, Karen?” Lenny asked.
“Micah! He nearly ran right into me running outta this place!” She brushed her skirt off. “What’s got him all pissed off?”
“The wind probably blew the wrong way.” Arthur said.
You chose to stay quiet. You turned your head to look at Charles. He was near the backside of Pearson’s wagon. His eyes found yours. You took a deep breath, shaking your head just slightly, then turned your attention to Calvin. He was okay, you knew that, but you couldn’t help feeling the need to make sure he was okay.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” You wiped your hands off on a rag and set it on the table before making your way towards the horses.
Arthur took note of your behavior. You usually were the first one to poke fun at Micah, to comment on his antics. It was unlike you to stay silent when his bad attitude was brought up.
Arthur sat down in the seat you’d previously been in, absentmindedly scratching his scruffy jaw.
Seeing that Javier and Lenny were engaged in a conversation of their own, Charles moved to Arthur.
“Arthur?”
“Hey, Charles.” Arthur greeted him.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Arthur nodded and followed Charles towards the lake away from everyone else.
“I didn’t see everything, but I was coming back from switching out guard duty when I saw Micah had ahold Y/N’s arm.”
Arthur’s eyes darted across camp to you.
“Don’t worry, Arthur. She’s okay.” Charles assured him. “I just wanted to tell you because I don’t trust Micah. I don’t know if he’ll do anything or what he was trying to do. I don’t know what goes through that man’s head, and I don’t want anything to happen to Y/N.”
Arthur let out a heavy breath, running his hand over his face. Anger bubble in his veins.
“He’s a snake, Arthur.” Charles spoke quietly.
“I know he is, Charles.” Arthur shook his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Did you…. Did you see him put his hands on her in any other way?”
“No. All I caught was him holding her arm and she headbutted him. Caught him right in the nose and mouth.”
“He didn’t hit her or nothin’ did he?”
“Not that I saw.”
Arthur nodded his head, letting out a heavy breath through his nose. He put his hand on Charles’s shoulder, nodding his head once, then moved across camp.
***
You approached Calvin on his right side so that he could see you. His left eye was the one that was blind and he didn’t react well to anyone coming up to him from that side.
“Hey, handsome.” You cooed, smiling softly as you reached out to rub his nose. He huffed and leaned into your touch. Your touch moved along his neck and down his side, then to his hindquarter. “My good boy, huh? Just don’t like no one else, do ya?”
“Think you have a thing for grumpy old fellers.”
You looked up to see Arthur rubbing Taima’s nose.
“I like the challenge that comes with the grumpy ones.”
He chuckled.
“You, uh, you know why Micah left like he did?”
“No.” You shook your head, moving around to Calvin’s blind side. “But it’s hard to tell what’s going through that man’s head.”
“Just thought maybe you’d know since you were here with him.” Arthur thought at loud.
You shook your head. You could feel his eyes on you, studying you like a book.
“You’d tell me if something happened, wouldn’t ya?”
Your eyes flickered up to meet his. You were quiet for a few moments, locking your jaw.
“Charles told you, didn’t he?”
Arthur nodded silently.
“He almost got a knife in his gut. He raised his fist like he was gonna hit Cal ‘cause Cal bit him. But I had it under control. No need to worry. Micah’s just a sour bastard. Don’t like being told off, especially not by a lady.”
Arthur let out a sigh.
You gave Calvin a loving pat on the shoulder and moved to go back to Pearson’s wagon.
“I don’t like leavin’ you here at camp with him.” Arthur followed behind you.
“I know you don’t, but you don’t have much of a choice.” You washed your hands and started to get back to work.
His hand wrapped around your wrist and he carefully pulled you back around to face him.
“Don’t egg him on when I’m not here.”
“I can fight my own fights, Arthur. And I’m not gonna let him hit my horse-,”
“That’s not what I’m sayin’, Y/N.” He cut you off, looking down at you. “If he ever put his hands on you, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill ‘em.”
“I know.” You placed your hand on his chest. “I know. But you, Arthur Morgan, also know that I can kick ass just as good as any man here. You shouldn’t worry so much.”
“I’ll always worry.” Arthur took your hand and brought it up to his lips. “Micah’s a snake.”
“Worrying is bad for such an old man’s heart.” A grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you moved away from him. He allowed you to slip away, watching you return to your chair by Pearson’s table.
Arthur chuckled at you, shaking his head.
***
Arthur settled back into bed, getting comfortable while you changed into a chemise and fixed your hair for the night.
“I think I gotta go to Strawberry tomorrow.”
“What for?” You slipped on your chemise, pulling it down over your head and into place.
“Dutch said there’s someone there who has information on a train comin’ through.” Arthur tucked one hand behind his head and watched you turn to face him. His eyes flickered down to look over you.
Though the lighting from the lamp wasn’t the best, he could see an odd marking on your bicep just above your elbow. It was darker than the rest of your skin and seemed out of place.
Arthur sat up, brows furrowing together.
“Come here a minute, pumpkin.”
“What?”
“Just come here.” He patted the bedside next to him.
You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, confused but unaware of what he had seen.
Now that he was close enough to see just exactly what they were, he could tell they were bruises.
You looked down to see what he was looking at.
“What is that?” You furrowed your brows together.
“Looks like finger shaped bruises.” Arthur just barely brushed his fingers over the markings. “Micah’s lucky I don’t cut off his goddamn hands.”
“Don’t, Arthur.” Your eyes shot up to find his. “I’m serious.”
“I am too.” Anger clouded his blue eyes, making them a stormy gray instead of the pretty vibrant blue you adored so much.
“He ain’t worth you gettin’ in trouble, Arthur. I probably broke his nose anyways.” You stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”
Arthur was silent as he laid back down and you climbed into bed with him. You curled up against his side, resting your head on his chest.
“Just don’t want nothin’ to happen to you, pumpkin.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head.
“Nothin’s gonna happen to me.” You assured him.
***
Once Arthur was sure you were asleep, he put his clothes back on and slipped out of his tent.
He looked around camp, spotting a small group gathered around a campfire near Pearson’s tent. He could spot Dutch, Hosea, Javier, Bill, John, and most importantly Micah.
Arthur took a deep breath, fighting the urge to cross the camp and start throwing punches at Micah.
Instead, he calmly made his way to the fire and sat down on the log next to John.
“Thought you went to bed.” John commented.
“Nah, can’t sleep.” Arthur shook his head.
“Arthur! So glad you could join us!” Dutch’s voice was unnecessarily loud. Arthur hoped you wouldn’t wake up.
“Hi, Dutch.”
“Thought you and Miss Y/L/N had gone off to bed for the night, cowpoke.” Micah offered him a beer but Arthur declined, lips pressing together in a tight line. “What happened?”
“Figured I’d stay up a little longer. Spend some time with you guys.” Arthur forced a smile on to his lips. “Don’t get to do that much anymore, do I?”
“No, as a matter of fact you don’t. You’re either off playing hero or-or…. or your off playing hero.” Bill swayed in his seat. He had too much to drink.
“Or you know, you’ve got certain people around here up your ass.” Micah shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t have time to sit around and drink with your brothers.”
John furrowed his brows, looking over at Micah.
“What the hell are you talking about, Bell?”
“Shut up, Marston.”
“You know what? Maybe you’re right.” Arthur tilted his head to the side a little as he looked at Micah. “What happened to your nose? I’ve never noticed it was so crooked.”
Micah scowled.
“Or maybe it’s not.” Arthur shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe I just never got a good look at it.”
“My god, Arthur, I think you’re right.” Hosea leaned forward as if to take a closer look at Micah’s nose. “Looks absolutely terrible, Micah. You might need to get that checked out.”
“Go to hell.” Micah started to stand up.
Arthur stood up too, stepping towards Micah.
“The next time you think about putting your hands on Y/N or her horse, the least of your concerns is gonna be her breakin’ your nose or pullin’ a knife on you, you hear me?” He spoke lowly.
Micah held his gaze for a few moments before turning and skulking away.
Arthur turned back to those who sat at the fire. Everyone was silent and didn’t know what to say.
“Is Y/N okay?” Hosea asked.
“She’s fine.” Arthur muttered, clenching his fist together. “I don’t like that fella.”
“Don’t think many of us do.” John sighed, standing to his feet.
Taglist: @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @nonodino @krenee1drful @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284
If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(
#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x reader fluff#arthur morgan fluff#arthur morgan#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#queenxxxsupreme#oneshot
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end│dreamwastaken
summary: dream was once your everything that you would do anything for; what happens when you finally confront the reality of his manipulation and sadistic destruction?
prompt: “we’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price.”
warnings: descriptive manipulation, a single curse word, angst
pairing: in-game c!dream
a/n: this is my entry for @sleepysoupi‘s 1.8k event! it goes without saying how late i am considering she’s currently working on her 2.0k event, but still a huge congratulatory to her amazing success and obvious, well deserved recognition <33
we love soupi in this household, nothing less of the fact *^*
also i know the prison doesn’t work exactly like how i wrote it, but let’s pretend for the sake of this fic
wc: (1.6k) - m.list
“Don’t do this, y/n.”
The air was sticky and heavy. As the lava bubbled behind you, it felt as if the heat could reach out and smother you entirely; the subtle warmth that felt insufferably suffocating in the tight space was a large contrast to the dark, opaque walls.
Although you stood in front of him by your own desire, habits quickly fell to place as he stood proudly above you. Chin raised, Dream’s shoulders were relaxed while he spoke to you. His words were firm, and with clenched fists, you swallowed harshly from his mocking tone.
You could practically hear his condescending grin without looking in how belittling he addressed you, and you hated how familiar the speech was.
“After all I’ve done for you, and you want to throw it all away?”
Despite all attempts, you unconsciously bowed your head down. Whether in unjustified guilt or the internal rage from his lies, you couldn’t say yourself. He noticed nonetheless, and played into your vulnerability further.
He was the one defenseless in this scenario, yet he held all the power in the small cage between the two of you.
“We made promises! ‘Till the very end, right?!” He began to raise his voice and feigned some form of heartbreak, taking a step dangerously closer to you while you stood there in frozen fear.
Staring harshly down at your feet, the weight of gravity pulled at your tears as they trickled down sparsely. This was different than when you originally confronted him mere hours ago. Here, you were alone and with no backing, no one to reassure you that you did the right thing. That he was a monster that had you blinded for so long.
That you were justified for betraying Dream.
“Don’t play stupid with me now. You can’t act like I did this all alone. That I’m not the only sick fuck in the room who enjoys the-”
“Stop it,” you whispered with closed eyes. While your voice was small, it echoed so loudly and threw Dream off guard. He shook his head and with a dark chuckle, sneered disparagingly.
“You really th-”
Your eyes opened as you unexpectedly interrupted him.
“No. For once in my life, I mean it. Shut your egotistical mouth for one goddamn second.”
Everything was in a frozen stand still as you snapped.
Course tears ran steadily down your cheeks, yet your eyes held more strength than Dream could had ever perceived in that moment. It had been so long since you had lost your voice. Lost your confidence, your fire that drew him in in the first place. It had been so long since you felt like yourself again, the person you once were before he teared you down completely to his mercy.
You swallowed sternly in exposed anxiety; when was the last time you saw his face like this? Saw his face at all, at that.
The molten lava radiated the room, it being the main source of light in contrast to the faint glow of the lanterns built into the walls. When you had originally requested to see him one final time before he was officially locked away for good, you had no idea what you expected to see. You didn’t see anything, actually, since you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet his eye line the entire time.
Until now.
As the magma shaded the room in a warm shine, his dull eyes gleamed a faded hue of ash green. His dirty blond hair was visible without his signature hoodie, his previous clothes stripped away and replaced with an attired uniform instead. He hid behind a mask for so long, it was surreal to see him as something so mundane and human.
Your mouth felt so dry from seeing him again. He almost looked like when you first laid eyes on him, that beautiful day when you thought you had fallen in love. How nice the sun felt, and how crisp the wind blew. The summer day was fresh and the sweet smell of honey pervaded the air. To think it was by mere chance he approached you in the white flower field, hidden in the depths of the forest with a charming smile and gentle hand.
How cruel reality liked to play with you and give you false hope that such love could truly exist.
The memory brought a smoldering rage that made your heart race in return. Back straight, you dared a step towards him with a quiet, yet firm declaration.
“I’m done making excuses for your lies. For your actions, for the hurt you cause, for you.”
Dream could barely register your words as you continued in growing fury. It was like the floodgates were open and you felt free to speak your truth.
You were riding this new found wave and would hold nothing back anymore.
“I let you get away with so much because I truly believed that I loved you. That my love could fix you, or change what you are.”
You stepped forward again, your finger shakily pointed at him. His mouth opened to respond but you spoke before he could try. You weren’t going to give him anything, you thought, he doesn’t deserve your silence.
“I went against everything I believed!” you suddenly yelled, “everything I stood for, everything I thought because of you!”
Your vision was a blur as your raw emotions came loose. You screamed from the top of your lungs to the point where your voice cracked with a head lifted high.
“I let people get hurt! People I love and care for because I prioritized you over everything I had!”
Another step forward, your voice shook with quivered lips as a result of an ached and long scorned heart.
“To think I used to be so proud to say it, to say you were my everything and my world.” With a trembled exhale, you gathered yourself before finishing your thought. “Maybe I am stupid, but trust me when I say my ignorance was your freedom and my considered love a blind devotion.”
Dream’s face softened considerably, for he was at a loss for words and didn’t have anything to probe at anymore. It was his turn to suffer in a lost acceptance.
“I…”
Shaking your head, you scoffed with your head tilted in disbelief. Smiling darkly, you knew then and there you regained the power of the room and your self-assurance over him. How the turn tables.
“Funny how things change when you have no where to run. When you’re the one helpless and reliant.”
Standing strong with your arms crossed, you stared at him with such distaste. Dream’s brows furrowed with a clench jaw as he stepped even closer to you. He was now mere inches away and glared down at you from his given height. Even then, you wouldn’t back down any longer.
“I do love you, y/n. Everything I did, I did for us. You can’t leave me like this.” He gazed down with such intensity that your past you would have wanted to say something just to appease him entirely; you weren’t that person anymore, and you wouldn’t let him drag you down more than he already has.
Dropping yours arms before stepping back, you messaged Sam without wavering your eye contact from him.
“We’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price of it alone.”
The sounded mechanics from outside the box indicated the lava dropping, signifying the end of your visit. Dream grew agitated at the thought of you leaving and dropped his eyes down in resent, a huge contrast to your relaxed and calm state.
You moved backwards until your back threatened to be burned by the heat.
“Here’s to loosing all those attachments you mentioned.”
Dream’s head snapped up from your words, but before he could attempt anything further, the Netherite divider rose and separated you both. The lava parted as you approached the platform, Sam visible from across the entrapping moat. He watched closely in regard to your safety and anything Dream might try with your back currently turned.
Approaching the stone platform once deemed safe, you turned to face him a final time as the contraption slowly pulled you away. Your chin was raised, and your tears were dry in satisfaction to your found closure.
“You were right,” you affirmed, “we did make promises, and this is our end.”
Bonus:
Tommy had been tormenting Dream for the past few minutes or so, his obnoxious taunts a sign of recovery from all the trauma he had dealt with from his young age. He hid behind his humor, but was strong when confronting his abuser with no uncertainty then.
“Who do you miss the most?”
Dream paused from fiddling with the leather of the book covers from the simple question. His hand began to curl around the thick material, and he drowned out Tommy’s rambling from behind him.
A familiar scent filled his senses, an old and precious memory uncovered from the oppressed depths of his mind. He pulled the book in hand open to a random, but intentional page, his callous fingers tracing over the stained ink.
He wasn’t an artist, and it easily would have been passed for messy, nonsense doodles, yet the drawing practically burned the paper as a reminder of his failed objectives.
The innocent azure bluets insulted him despite being his own creation.
Dream was done playing into Tommy’s confidence, and spoke lowly as his head turned further away from the boy.
“… I think you should go, Tommy."
#dream smp x reader#dream smp x you#dreamwastaken x reader#dreamwastaken x you#dream x reader#dream x you#dream x gn!reader#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#dreamwastaken x gn!reader#dreamwastaken imagine#dsmp x reader#sleepysoupi 1.8k writing event
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Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel
Warnings: mention of Dean's death, mention of Castiel's death (but it's mostly just pure fluff, I promise)
Post 15x20, Fix-It-Fic (kinda)
Happy Supernatural day guys, I thought a little Destiel fix-it would be fitting for this day 💙
Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own
"Cas, you stupid son of a bitch! Do you hear me? That's what you are, alright?"
Dean looked up into the sky above him - which, now that he thought about it wasn't actually the sky, but who knew what was real in heaven and what wasn't. He had been driving around for a month now - maybe it had been just two weeks? - Dean didn't know, but what he knew was that he was praying to the stupid angel in a trenchcoat, without success. He'd thought that after everything that had happened, Cas would be happy to see him, would come to greet him the second he arrived here, but nothing.
"Damnit Cas, I know you can hear me!"
The former hunter was standing at the foot of a mountain, surrounded by nothing but trees, flowers, and bees. He didn't even notice how far he'd walked, but when he let his gaze wander, he realized that the meadow was huge. He felt an ache in his heart all of a sudden, because he knew that this, right here, would be one of Cas' favorite places.
His anger grew all of a sudden, but at the same time, his eyes filled with tears and he sat down on the ground, leaning against a solid tree.
"Listen, I know that - that things aren't that fancy between us right now, but I - I wanna... God, move your ass here, Cas!"
His voice got louder and louder, until he could hear it echoing back from... somewhere. Dean had no idea, but he didn't care. He was exhausted, even though he didn't need to sleep up here, but he knew exactly that it wasn't that kind of exhaustion, no, it was the emotional kind.
For what had felt like forever, he was searching for Cas, trying to reach him somehow, starting right after he realized that he loved the goddamn angel as well, but until now, there was not a single sign of him.
"Please man, I need you. We need - we need to talk."
His voice cracked at the last word and the first tear found its way down his cheek, but he wiped it away quickly. His head dropped back then against the tree with a sigh, and he closed his eyes.
"You realize that you can't hide forever, right? Come on, whatever the reason is, we'll figure it out, we'll figure everything out. Cas, please."
His eyes were still closed, and suddenly, there was a light breeze at the meadow, making the trees rustle a little.
"Hello, Dean."
Dean's head snapped up while he tore his eyes open, and for a second, he felt too dizzy to see anything. When his eyes got used to the light again though, he was looking right at Cas'...
His eyes snapped up so fast that once again, he got hit by a wave of dizziness, while his cheeks got hot in an instant.
"Jesus, you could've showed up next to me, or behind me, or... or..."
Just then, the former hunter realized that it was actually Cas standing right in front of him, and just like that, his heart was up his throat, while at the same time, his stomach seemed to tie itself in knots. It was Cas, his Cas who he was searching for a month, standing right in front of him like nothing had happened.
He jumped up, not sure what he was about to say, but all of a sudden, he was furious.
"Hello? That's all you have to say?"
His voice was shaking, and his hands automatically clenched into fists, while he tried to control himself not to punch the angel right into his stupid, beautiful face.
"Yes."
Cas' expression was blank, and Dean huffed an angry laugh, while he turned to bring some space between them. When he took a few steps, he didn't turn around again, because his eyes were burning with unshed tears, and as much as Dean was thinking about this moment, prepared for it, even, he couldn't say what he wanted to say, not now, not like this.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been searching for you?" the hunter asked, his voice quiet.
"I'm aware, yes," Castiel answered, and Dean had to close his eyes. He'd been thinking about this moment for almost two months now, the whole time on earth and in heaven, and this wasn't how he'd thought it would go. It wasn't even close.
"Then why? Why did you make me wait?"
It was a desperate question, Dean's voice full of emotions, he could hear it, but he couldn't stop it. It took him some time to become like this, to not hide his feelings anymore, and he wouldn't be ashamed of it now.
"I could sense your anger, Dean. I thought that -"
"Well, next time stop thinking buddy, and do what I ask you for."
Dean knew it sounded selfish, and again, a little desperate, but he couldn't stop himself. Slowly, he turned around, his head lowered to hide his tears at first, but after he took a deep breath, he raised it slowly to look at Cas.
"You have any idea how much I've missed you, you son of a bitch?" he whispered, while he slowly approached the angel, one small step after another. Castiel's eyes went wide for a second, before his expression went completely blank again, but even though he tried to hide it, Dean noticed the small gulp anyway.
"You have any idea how I felt when you left? When you dumped all that shit on me, not even caring about what I'd have to say, and then you just disappeared? You have any idea how that made me feel?"
Dean's voice got louder and louder, and at the end, he was almost yelling, his voice echoing from the mountains, and for the first time since Cas' confession, he understood what the angel had said.
'You think that hate and anger, that's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not!'
No, what he was feeling wasn't anger. He wasn't angry at Cas. He was desperate, and heartbroken, and confused, but not angry. Slowly, the former hunter took a deep breath, his gaze locked with Cas' the whole time.
"You think I'm a rock? That you could just dump that on me and leave, and that I'd be okay with that?"
Dean took another step closer, then one more, until their faces were only inches apart. The angel lowered his head in shame, but not a single word came out of his mouth. When his ears turned into a dark share of red, Dean almost smiled through his tears.
"You think I'm okay without my best friend by my side?" Dean whispered, while he pushed Cas' head back up, using his index finger.
"Cas, say something," he begged, almost desperate, because even though Dean had learned to deal with his shit by now, he still couldn't stand it to get no answer when he was being vulnerable in front of anybody.
"I'm sorry," Cas whispered, while he lifted his head all the way to look into Dean's eyes. The former hunter could see tears glistening in Castiel's eyes as well, and just with one look, he knew that the angel was sincere.
"Just don't... don't ever do shit like that again, alright?" Dean mumbled, before he grabbed the angel by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug, so tight that breathing got hard after some seconds, but Dean didn't care, because first of all, he was dead already, and second, he'd die for this, for Cas, just like Cas had died for him.
After some moments, Castiel hesitantly lifted his arms as well and wrapped his arms around Dean's lower back, which made the former hunter sigh. His eyes fell shut and he had a hard time resisting the urge to bury his face at the other man's neck, but somehow, he did it. Just when he was about to let go, he could feel a sharp pain at the back of his head, accompanied by a loud slapping sound. Dean jumped back, eyes wide, and stared at Cas in disbelief.
"That," Cas said, the smallest of smiles on his lips, "was for dying right after I sacrificed myself for you to live. You can thank Charlie for showing me this."
Dean raised his hand and rubbed the spot that was throbbing a little now, and he was more than aware that in heaven, he wasn't supposed to feel any pain, except of when he wanted to.
"That's... that's fair," he mumbled, and his cheeks turned pink, while the corner of his mouth lifted a little.
"Yeah, I think I deserve that."
He wasn't sure if Cas knew how he died, or why, but if he did, he wasn't showing it. No, if he'd know, he wouldn't grin like that now, Dean was sure, and for some reason, he was more relieved about that than he thought he'd be.
"Listen, there's... there's something else we need to talk about," he mumbled suddenly, and his smile disappeared immediately, just like Castiel's.
"If you mean what happened on earth -"
"No, you shut your mouth and let me talk, you had your moment already."
There was no heat behind Dean's words, but Cas' mouth snapped shut anyway. Suddenly, there was a light breeze ghosting over the meadow, and Dean felt the urge to turn around, so he did, blaming it on his still very present hunter instincts. He was almost sure to see someone behind them, Jack maybe, or anyone else who wanted to see Dean, but what was there instead took his breath away.
Right there, just a few feet behind them, was a huge barn, but not any barn, no, the barn they'd met all those years ago. The light changed as well, and suddenly, it was dark, the only light given by at least a thousand fireflies, quietly flying around the barn.
"Friggin' heaven," he mumbled and his face turned into a dark shade of red, because even though he was denying it all the time, he knew this was his work - he was a fucking sap.
When he turned his head again to look at Cas, the angel's eyes were wide, staring in awe at the spectacle in front of his, his lips slightly parted.
"Dean..."
"Not a word. Listen, there's... there's some stuff I wanna say as well," Dean said, his voice more firm that he'd thought, but he cleared his throat anyway before he began to speak.
"First of all, I'm still mad at you for what you did back there, alright? And I will be, probably for a long time. But..."
The former hunter searched Castiel's gaze, and only when their eyes locked, he continued.
"But even though I was - or am - mad, that doesn't mean I didn't miss you like crazy. Do you have any idea how fuckin' thrilled I was when I came here and Bobby told me you're around as well? And how - how disappointed I was when you didn't show up?"
"Dean, I didn't mean to -"
"No, shut up, man. I already told you, you had your moment."
Dean waited for an answer, but Cas was just standing there, staring at him, without saying another word. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, but when his fingers hit something that hadn't been in there before, he furrowed his brows. Slowly, he tried to make out what it was. It was something small, a little box, maybe? It was soft and -
Oh. Oh no. Definitely no. This couldn't be, this-
"Dean?"
Dean's eyes snapped back to Cas, and just then he noticed that he'd had lowered his head. The angel stared at him with his brows furrowed and his head tilted to the side, and Dean's heart jumped by the sight.
'Why not?' a voice was whispering in his head all of a sudden, and he knew it was right? Why the hell not, right? It's not like he'd suddenly die, he already was dead. Go big or go home.
"Yeah, I'm, uh... let's walk a little, alright?"
Dean tilted his head into the direction of the barn and started walking, and Cas followed him immediately. As soon as they were side by side, their arms touching just a little, like they'd always done when he was still alive, Dean started talking again.
"So... I have one question. Did you mean it? What you said, I mean, the - the love part."
The former hunter was too afraid to look at Castiel, so he kept his gaze at his feet, watching every of his own steps carefully. He knew Cas had meant it, but he still needed to ask, just to make sure.
"Of course I meant it, Dean."
Again, Dean's heart jumped and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm it down. They walked around the barn until they reached the entrance door, which was closed, and that's when Dean stopped. He took another deep breath and lifted his gaze, about to start talking again, but as soon as their eyes locked, he couldn't get a word out. Instead, he lifted his hand, which was shaking a little, slowly, almost like he could break Cas if he wasn't careful. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think anymore, his whole body worked on its own. As soon as his fingertips touched the other man's cheek, careful, soft, he exhaled.
He wanted to say so much, wanted to tell the angel that he loved him, that what he did was stupid, that he could have what he wanted, but his mouth didn't work.
Cas' eyes went wide by Dean's touch, but not even a second later, he leaned closer to Dean's hand, and Dean cupped his cheek fully. Somehow, they got closer and closer, and now their noses were almost touching, Dean could feel Castiel's breath on his own lips. Out of reflex, his tongue flicked out to wet them, and Cas' gaze dropped down, just for a split second, but he didn't move.
"You stupid son of a bitch," Dean whispered, his eyes full of tears once again, before he closed the distance and pressed his lips against Castiel's. Their mouths were closed, it was a soft, tender kiss, almost a little shy, but feeling Cas' lips on his own for the first time was enough to drive Dean crazy. His eyes fell shut, which caused some tears to roll down his cheeks, but he didn't even notice, he was too focused on the other man.
Cas gasped when their lips met, and at first, he was frozen in place, but when Dean started to move his lips, slowly, to give the angel time to proceed what was happening, Cas hesitantly put his hands on Dean's waist and pulled him closer. Dean whimpered and he knew he'd deny it later, but he stepped even closer, until their bodies were pressed together from head to toe.
They were standing there for minutes, hours, days, hell, it could've been weeks, according to how time worked in heaven, but when they finally separated, Cas was looking at him with such awe in his eyes that Dean had to lower his head.
"You could've just asked, you know? I know - I know I wasn't easy to be around, but... to think that this is something you couldn't have, that was just stupid."
Huh, his voice sounded way too deep. Cas didn't say a word, didn't even breathe, and as the seconds ticked by, Dean got a little worried. Slowly, he looked up, just to see Cas still standing there like before, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly opened, his cheeks flushed. He was beautiful.
"I love you too, Cas," Dean said, his voice quiet, because he didn't know what else to say. Then, just like that, Cas' eyes filled with tears in mere seconds, and the liquid slowly ran down his cheeks as soon as he began to smile. The smile quickly turned into a grin, and Dean couldn't resist to smile as well. For some reason, they both started laughing, at the same time, and they laughed so hard that their bellies started to hurt.
When they finally calmed down a little, Dean took Cas' hand and took a few deep breaths.
"We're both a couple of dumbasses, huh?" he mumbled, his mind once again wandering back to the small box that was still hiding in his pocket.
"Dean, I -"
"I'm not done yet," Dean said with a grin, which felt a little off, because he was nervous as hell all of a sudden. With his free hand, he pulled out the little box, still hiding it in his fist, and started talking once more.
"So uh... I know that I'm - well, dead, and you're an angel, and heaven is a fucking traitor, but uh... would you... wear that? It's - it's not - I mean, marriage is a bit useless up here, but -"
The former hunter wasn't sure how to finish, so he just closed his mouth and lifted his hand with the little box. As soon as he opened it, he couldn't hold back a little chuckle. What was inside was a ring, a silver ring to be more specific, but there was one blue line, going around the silver all the way in little waves. Dean remembered how he'd seen this ring once, and even back then, his mind had jumped to Castiel immediately, because the blue was the exact same color as the angel's eyes.
Cas' eyes went wide once again and he lifted his hand to touch the ring carefully. Silence stretched between them, and just when Dean started to think this had been a bad idea, Cas sobbed, just once, before he wrapped his arms around the former hunters neck and squeezed tightly.
"It'd be an honor to wear that ring, Dean," he whispered, right next to Dean's ear, and Dean breathed out, just then realizing that he'd been holding his breath. When Cas pulled back from the hug, Dean took his hand once again and slid the ring on his finger, before he intertwined their hands with a smile.
"I know that - that there's a lot to talk about still, but could we just... dunno, enjoy the night? Or... day, or evening, or... whatever..." Dean asked when he looked around. The light had changed once again, and instead of the barn, there was a small house, just big enough for two people to comfortably live in. Nearby was a little lake, surrounded by trees. The meadow was still there, but there was also a road now, close to the house. And a white picket fence. A fucking white picket fence. Dean's face turned red in an instant.
"Is this where you want to live from now on?" Cas asked while looking around, not even noticing Dean's embarrassment.
"Seems like it is," Dean shot back, his voice a little more grumpy than usual.
"It's beautiful," Cas answered, before he looked at Dean again, his face turning serious.
"Do you want to... live alon-"
"God, Cas, are you fucking kidding me? Don't even think about leaving me again or I'll find you just to stab you."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Cas mumbled, but there was a huge, loving smile on his face, and Dean couldn't do anything else than to smile back.
"Let's get inside then," Cas said and squeezed Dean's hand, and the former hunter nodded and followed quickly. Cas was back, finally, and Dean wasn't a coward for once. He'd been honest about his feelings, and for the first time in his life, there was nothing that could destroy his happiness. No monster, no sudden death, nothing. It was just Cas and him. Cas, angel of the lord, soldier of God, who loved him. Him, just a human, a tiny, little human. Dean couldn't believe his luck. He followed Cas inside the house, and when he turned around to close the door, he exhaled. This was heaven, right here, with Cas, the man he loved. Finally, he was at peace. Finally, he was home.
Tag list: @sam--ships--it @green-blue-heller @professorerudite @foolsdreamhigh @jmjlover @spnmrvlshrlck @melly-the-crazy-coconut @thebluelynxx @lulu-zodiac @bigartpuppy @charliesfandomlife
Let me know if you wanna be added/removed 💙
#dean winchester#castiel#destiel#destiel fanfic#destiel fic#destiel fanfiction#destiel fix it#post 15x20#destiel first kiss#deancas#deancas fic#deancas fanfiction#deanxcastiel#dean x cas#JasWrites
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𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬┃𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫
chapter one
warnings: cursing, mentions of death, season 4/manga spoilers ??? (that’s about it, think!)
word count: 2,705
notes: this is the first installment of wistful irises !!! i guess it would be a slow-burn fic that would contain 5 or more chapters. i wrote this to cope with the tragedy of AOT manga chapter 138 — that’s just fucked up tbh. please give this one a like/reblog/feedback so i know whether or not you liked it !!
NEXT CHAPTER: H E R E
𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬
It was quiet — so eerily quiet, a hand came up to soothe her ears bitten by the cold wind. Devon’s palm felt at the rough rubbles on the surface of which she was sat on. Everything she laid eyes on tugged at her heart, scanning at her surroundings as if she looked one more time, her vision would change.
Alas, she gazed upon the damaged cities from her place atop Wall Rose, with no success. Devon threw her head back, opting to find comfort at the stars that laid peacefully on the sky.
“They’re dead.” She asserted, nearly winced at the wave of overwhelming devastation rushing at her heart.
However, she was unsure who or what she was alluding to. Was it the people of Paradis? Those she lost? Or even — the stars?
Nothing was clear, at the moment. Only hurt and confusion clouded her devices. She found her palms closing in on the small rubbles she had caught, clutching them tightly in her fist.
It had been four years since everything went into a complete spiral. Perhaps it was for her alone, considering a massive part of her died along with the hundreds of comrades who sacrificed themselves for the sake of the truth.
She remembered the day they found out about the life that existed beyond these walls. The walls she had known all her life, was quite literally, made to imprison its people. It was unclear whether she was angry or sad that there was a whole world out there that hated their existence so much that they’d created monsters to attack them.
“It’s late, Devon.”
She recognized that sweet-tuned voice instantly but didn’t turn to look his way as she spoke. “It’s awfully cold, too.” Her voice came in a whisper.
Her new companions footsteps grew closer, making her glance to her right. “Are you here to wallow in despair with me, Armin?”
The blonde simply sat down beside his friend, looking ahead the dark path. “No,” He answered. “I was just looking for you.”
The silence returned after that. Chilly air wafting at the night, Devon laid her hands on her lap, inspecting how they’ve gotten small cuts from the sharp stone she had held. Her ears felt blocked as her hands began to tremble. She clenched her teeth in the hopes to ebb away her impending emotions. She exhaled a shattered breath, pressing her hands against the skin of her face.
Armin’s hand that intended to ease Devon’s cries, seem to have worsen them the moment it touched her. However, he continued on, rubbing small circles at the column of her back.
“I — “ Devon started, her voice failing her as another ripple of pain pounded at her chest.
An encouraging hand reached up against her own, gently coaxing her into a state of solace, just enough for her to be able to convey her emotions.
With a breath, Devon began once more. “I thought we’ll be close to peace, once we discovered what was in that goddamn basement,” She laughed, lacking humor. The back of her palm wiping at the tears that had fallen on her cheeks. “But — it was just another door to one more disaster.”
“That’s true,” Armin agreed, but still mulled over her words. “It is a big step from freedom, though.”
She gritted her teeth, baring the headache that came with it. There was a part of her that knew it was the exact idea Armin had in mind. Regardless of her understanding, she couldn’t help but feel a whistle of displeasure crawling against her lips.
With a swing of her head, she finally flashed her attention to Armin. Devon gave him a once-over, noticing how his once shoulder-length hair, had been cut shorter, lips curled into a frown, dragging down a creases on his forehead. The main thing that always saddened Devon was the look in his eyes.
Armin was the last person Devon thought she’d see with those haunting wisp. He was the last shred of hope she had in this world, even before everything came tumbling down, Devon saw Armin as a beacon, that she could run to whenever it all became horrifyingly dark— staring at him now, Devon felt extremely helpless, loneliness grasping at her throat, catching herself reaching for Armin’s hand that was placed on her back, snatching it on her own.
“We’ve lost so much,” She mumbled, compressing her grip on his hand. “I can’t afford to lose anything anymore— Armin—”
“You won’t—”
“— If we go tomorrow, I will—”
“Devon—”
“No— we’re going into a lion’s den! Every single person in that goddamn land wants us dead!” She stressed, leaning in closer to Arnim as if it’s bound to improve his comprehension.
Armin halted, observing the panic flood in Devon’s sunken eyes. The usual brilliance of its green hue had faded over time. In it’s place were tired, dull irises staring back at him.
He swallowed the lump building up his throat, nodding in understanding. “I know— but we have to bring him home, Devon.”
With a quick dark chuckle, Devon faced the sky, leaning her head back. “I don’t even know if I want to see him,”
Huffing out a breath Armin was holding, he abruptly got on his feet, pulling his hands from Devon’s freezing ones.
The latter flashed him a confused glance, awaiting his next move. She watched as Armin shook off his Survey Corps jacket, soon hanging it on her shoulders.
Maybe it was the topic of discussion that made them neglect the air that had been a lot chillier than before. Devon felt warmth seeping back into her skin as she hugged the material tighter against her body.
“You don’t seem to have a choice for the matter,” Armin muttered, gazing down at her. “Whether or not you’re in good terms with him, Eren still belong with us.”
Devon grimaced, as if Armin had said something completely ridiculous— in her eyes, it was.
She recalled that painful night, about three months ago. The night Eren decided to sneak out and leave Paradis. He had been babbling about it for weeks prior to his escape. Devon made the mistake of thinking it was all that— mindless babbling.
She was wrong, of course. Eren had actually planned everything. He was going to see through his stupid plan.
“Are being fucking serious right now?” Devon hissed, distressed eyes were scanning Eren’s face, hoping this was some sick prank he’d gotten everyone in.
Eren cringed at the volume of her voice, hands putting up immediately to cup her mouth. “Devon— Please— Listen, yeah?”
His pleas were met by deaf ears, as Devon slapped his plams away from his mouth, glaring at him with the outmost disbelief.
“You’re being stupid,” She scoffed. “This is stupid— Eren— You want to go there?” Her furrowed eyebrows deepened the more she thought about it.
Eren bit his lip, nodding slowly, standing rigid in front of her, frozen at the fire in her eyes. He examined her, sitting on her bed, contemplating the information he threw at her face.
The light of the single candle in the room, illuminated the left side of her face as she turned to him again. “What ever you think is going to fix this, it’ll only call for another war—”
“That’s nothing new.”
“You selfish—” She had lunged at him, limbs acting before her brain. “—little brat—!” An echo deafening resounded in the small enclosed space, rearing on the silence it followed. Devon’s palm stung, eyes raging and barely seeing anything beyond her seething anger.
Before she had the mind to process anything, her head banged against a solid surface, a groan leaving her lips from the impact.
Everything was fuzzy, scarcely making out anything at sight. Only cloudy images filled her vision, almost not feeling the bruising grip pressing her down by the wrists.
The searing breath near her ear, felt uncomfortably cold, a pair of lips grazing at the tip, making her shudder.
“For your own protection— all of you— remember that . . .”
The words echoed, but she could barely hear the last ones, as her breath turned calmer, the last thing she saw were those turquoise orbs, looking back at her with an emotion she couldn’t quite read.
Devon shook herself out of the memory. There was more to it, she knew that — but she couldn’t seem to remember. When she tries, a huge headache always came crashing down on her. A sick wave slapped her as she thought about the dreadful possibility of Eren, messing with her memories.
She hated the big gapping wall in her mind. It was always incomplete, left her nothing but empty guesses about what else he could have said to her that night before he left her hanging with a missing piece in her heart.
He left them — and just like that, he gets to come home in the most unnecessarily brutal way possible. Eren was asking for a bloodbath, and unfortunately, that was what most likely going to happen tomorrow.
“He’s going to get us killed.” She muttered, voice thinning at the thought of her fallen comrades — endless blood — fire — explosions — “We’ll be lucky if we all make it out in one piece.”
This time, Armin didn’t contract her declaration, having her look down. He was frighteningly aware of the fact that any of them could die at any given moment. It brought him peril at how Devon had smacked him in the face with the reality he was trying to avoid. A part of him wanted to believe it was all going to go smoothly, but the logical part of him had mulled over the dreadful alternative for a long time now.
He sympathized with the hostile feelings Devon had grown for Eren. Perhaps it was due to the puzzling relationship they possessed. If he was to base it on his observations alone, it was painfully obvious that they cared deeply for one another but never had the time or courage to say it.
No one has ever pried about their relationship, since they both dismissed it as nonsense. It was perplexing yet as clear as day what they had for each other.
They would always be found bicker when they were younger, Devon calling Eren an ugly airhead then Eren shooting back that they were the same. Back then, it was true. They were kids who thought they could do everything themselves. Armin could say, Devon grew out of that attitude as time passed by when he got to know Devon a little better.
After the battle with Zeke, Reiner and Bertholdt, the amount of trauma everyone endured was terrible. The bloody aftermath of Paradis was engraved into their minds, never fading until their last breath.
The guilt ate at Armin when he found out how he came to be alive. He often wondered why it was him. Why did Captain Levi give him the chance to live over Commander Erwin.
On the other hand, remorse gripped at Devon’s throat at the unintentional betrayal that crossed her mind that day. She found herself opening her mouth before she could hide it away.
“I was so desperate for peace . . .” She whispered, yanking down Armin by his hands, his behind slamming against the hard concrete as he was forced to sit down in front of her. “That I . . . For a long time — I believed that only Erwin could lead us there —”
“It’s alright — “
“It isn’t — it was meant to make me happy, for goodness sake — you came back from the dead after I stood there and watch you get burned alive . . .” She failed to realize she was crying until she felt droplets of her tears falling on her hands, intertwined with Armin’s.
Looking away, she continued, Armin watching her carefully. “Mikasa and Eren were desperately convincing Captain Levi to resurrect you — while I stared at both yours and Commander Erwin’s body , absolutely loathing the choice that had to be made.”
Devon could no longer hold in her heavy sobs, as it broke through her completely. “I get why you thought that, and you weren’t selfish for doing it, were you?” She listened to Armin’s reassuring voice. “You thought Erwin should’ve had it because you believed people would follow him and would avoid getting hurt — “
“ — you’d be able to do that too, though . . .” Devon countered, sniffling as she glanced back at Armin’s oceanic orbs. “I was just blinded by fear to think straight back then.”
Armin smiled at Devon in a silent gratitude. “I thought about everything you did, too, and maybe you’re right, maybe I’m too blinded by my own fears to face another life that was given to me — but I promised Captain Levi and Commander Hanji I’ll do everything it takes to bring us the peace we’ve been seeking out for years.”
Devon winced at the sudden touch on her head, chestnut locks swishing from one side after the other as Armin ruffled her hair.
“Regretting could only get you so far,” Armin stated, a small smile gracing his face. “What’s important is what you decide to do about it.”
Warmth flooded at Devon’s core, nearly bursting into tears at Armin’s comforting words. Her mind went back to Eren, his circumstances and living conditions on that island were mostly unknown. But seeing as he had the facilities to send a letter, hints that it must be at the least safe.
She started to fly over the scattered thoughts inside her head, mulling over how mentally drained she has been, yet the noise and dull of her heart seem to only worsen. The countless times she had to convince herself of the good things left in the world to bask the gift of life, but lately, she found herself sitting by the windowsill of her room. Eyes always glancing up the sky whether or not they were painted with shining stars.
Devon often clutched her chest when the uncontrollable pangs in her heart refuses to remain still. Some days, the rejection of waking up rattles her tremendously, and the refusal to face the day ahead was stronger than anything.
She wanted nothing more than to take a few steps back and reverse time to relish the tranquility of it all. It sounded ridiculously selfish, but she’d trade anything if it means she would awake to Eren and Jean’s loud voices arguing or to see Sasha pocket goods she had stolen from the kitchen while being chased down by Armin. And oh — what she wouldn’t give to replay the day they’ve all bonded together after Keith Shadis made Sasha run until she was in the brink of insanity.
It’s those little things that made her nostalgic, bringing a sad smile on her lips that she wasn’t sure if she wanted those thoughts randomly popping up her mind. Sometimes, disbelief hits her harder than anything whenever she’d allow herself to scan the faces of what’s left of her teammates.
When Erwin had told them, he knows “they’d one day go far and achieve great things”, if he was still here, Devon would surely make him look at what had become of them.
Everyone was preparing for the expedition in Marley tomorrow. Devon had exited the room when she had heard the severity of the situation. Eren was going to wreck havoc in that foreign island and he gave them no other choice than to lend him aid.
It was rather conflicting, Devon was worried for him but nonetheless, despised his living-breathing self. She often wondered about his whole motive, considering his adamant proclamation that it wasn’t for his own self-indulgence.
It felt like it was, as she began to feel the shuddering screams of the impending battle that was set to take place.
If another life of her loved one’s taken from her tomorrow, she fears that it might throw her in an unstable state and she had every right to blame it all on Eren.
#eren yeager x reader#eren yeager x oc#eren jeager x reader#jean kirschtein x reader#armin arlert x reader#levi ackerman x reader#mikasa ackerman x reader#erwin smith x reader#eremika#reiner braun x reader#hange zoe#hanji zoe#historia reiss#eren smut#jean kirschstein#armin arlert smut#aot headcanons#attack on titan#levi ackerman#levi ackerman smut#yelena#connie springer#erwin smith#survey corps#sasha blouse#sasha braus#mikasa ackerman#eren yeager#armin artlert
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Can you add me to the damnation tag list please? Thank you!! Also if you’re taking prompts: the song partition by Beyoncé, specifically the line “took 45 minutes to get all dressed up / and we ain’t even gonna make it to this club” for nessian or rowaelin
Rowan pulled at the collar of his shirt, frowning. He was already hot, and they weren’t even at the goddamn club. Hell, they hadn’t even left yet.
He was sitting in the car waiting for his wife, scrolling through his email and trying to resist the urge to back inside and throttle her. "Five minutes" his ass.
Even though he was irritated, he was used to this behavior. So was their driver, Ricky. When he'd told the stout man Aelin said she was almost ready, he'd just given Rowan a knowing smile, pulled out the newspaper, and rolled up the divider to give him some privacy.
Something he was very grateful for when, twenty minutes after she'd said she'd be ready, Aelin opened the back door and slid onto the seat across from him.
The phone fell from his hands, emails suddenly the last thing on his mind, as he took her in all the way from her curly blonde hair to her painted red toenails.
"What... what are you wearing?" he asked, voice embarrassingly raspy.
“A dress,” she replied simply, knocking on the divider between them and the driver to signal they were finally ready.
He scowled, because duh, but he’d never seen anything like what she was wearing.
First of all, it was fucking sheer.
Thin layers of black tulle wrapped around her frame, creating a see-through illusion that was messing with his mind. He guessed she was technically covered, but not enough he couldn’t see the outline of her high-cut black panties and bra. A lot of skin was showing.
Skin everyone in the club she was dragging him to would see.
“Aelin.”
“Mmm?”
“How many people are you trying to make me kill tonight?”
He wasn't a necessarily territorial man--at least he didn't think so. And the logical part of his brain told him that his wife loved him. He had nothing to worry about.
The not-so-logical part told him to not let her out of the car. Or to start cracking skulls.
His eyes finally figured out how to move off her breasts and as he looked at her face, she smiled at him knowingly. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Rowan growled, trying to discretely shift himself in his pants.
She noticed, of course, and her grin grew. “Rowan, get it together. If you can’t even make a twenty minute car ride, how are you going to deal with me dancing on you tonight?”
“I’m not,” he gruffed, looking at her innocent little nose. “I’m going to stand at the bar and glare at anyone who tries to get close to you.”
She tilted her head, considering this. “I don’t think so. I want to dance with you."
"Then you should've worn something less... tempting."
"Tempting?" Aelin asked, pulling her bottom lip through her teeth slowly. "What do you mean?"
"Stop acting innocent. You wear a dress like that, and you're going to get my attention."
She leaned back, hips sliding down the seat and thighs falling open.
Skulls. Cracking.
"What are you tempted to do?"
It was a breathy whisper, one that told him she was just as hot and bothered as him.
Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees and his hands on hers, edging her thighs open a little further. Running his thumbs across her soft skin, he grinned when he felt it pebble and her breathing grow shallow.
"Currently," he began, running his hands down her calves, back over her knees, up her thighs. "I'm tempted to get on my knees before you and worship you. You look like a goddess, Fireheart."
She grinned, opening her mouth to respond, but he brought a hand up and brushed a finger down that bright red lip. "And then I'm tempted to fuck your mouth for messing with me in the first place."
Her lips parted, drawing his thumb inside her mouth, and he almost came at the sinful lap of her tongue. He pushed it deeper, eyes drifting closed when she moaned.
"But, you've been waiting for this opening for a while," he said, acting unaffected despite the tent in his pants and sitting back. "And you've obviously spent a while getting ready. I can wait."
She made an angry, frustrated sound and flung herself on him, somehow ending up on his lap, her knees by his hips. "I lied," she breathed, pushing herself down against him. "There isn't a club opening tonight. It opened last week, and I went with Lysandra. I just wanted-"
He knew what she wanted. And like always, he gave it to her.
A hand on the back of her neck pulled her mouth to his, and Rowan kissed her desperately, deep and searching and thorough. He met her tongue with his, sucked on her lips, kissed her the way he would if he got between her thighs. If the way she was moving on him was any indication, she knew exactly what he was doing and was enjoying it.
His hands pushed up the thin material, and then he was gripping her ass, growling at the fact that she'd been about to wear this in public.
"I'm going to kill the neighbors," he told her, realizing they might have seen her walk to the car.
"Okay," she agreed, tilting her head back as Rowan kissed her neck. "I hate them anyway."
He was too hard, too desperate to be amused.
The desperation led to him ripping her panties off, something he knew she'd give him shit for later. But it seemed she was too far gone to care much, especially as he slipped two fingers up her thigh and pushed them into her. She sucked in a sharp breath, eyes drifting closed and head falling back.
He groaned at how tight and wet she was, clenching his jaw. The way she moved her hips gave him just enough friction that he couldn't think, and he fucked her harder with his fingers in retaliation.
His thumb drew small, quick circles on the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, clenching his jaw and going faster when she tightened around him.
"Ro, I'm going to-"
She cut herself off and released a curse that would make even the most seasoned sailor blush as the car slowed to a stop, making him chuckle.
Aelin leaned over and slapped the intercom button to connect them to the driver. Right as she opened her mouth to speak, Rowan curled his fingers and pushed his thumb against her clit in a way he knew would drive her wild. She gasped, trying to hide it under a cough. "Um, fuck, just- just drive around, Ricky!"
The amused response came through a second later. "Of course, ma'am."
He likely knew exactly what they were doing back here, but Rowan didn't have half a mind to care.
As the car started moving again, Aelin sat back up and slapped his chest. "You're such an asshole."
He made another circle with his thumb. "Am I?"
She trembled, shaking her head, and he gave her a slow smile.
One hand buried between her thighs, he used the other to tug down the front of her dress and bra. His mouth came to her breast, and he swirled his tongue around her nipple in time with the movements of his thumb.
Aelin groaned loudly, fingers digging into his shoulders and hips churning sloppily.
"That's it," he encouraged, tugging on her nipple with his teeth. "Ride my hand, Fireheart."
He knew she was getting close from the way she tightened around his fingers, so he released her breasts and licked a line up the column of her throat. Her head was thrown back, giving him plenty of access, and he made use of it, sucking and licking and biting at her skin until he knew he'd leave a mark.
She cried out as she came, loud enough he hoped Ricky had a serious hearing problem.
Her legs shook and she trembled, but he kept going until she stilled and collapsed into his chest. Then he pulled them out and licked them clean, eyes rolling back at the taste of her.
After three years of marriage, she was still the hottest thing he'd ever seen.
Not that he was surprised--she constantly did things like this that made him burn hotter and hotter for her as the years went by.
Apparently, the sentiment was requited, because before he knew what she was doing, his wife slid to her knees before him and flicked open his belt.
She met his eyes as she freed him, running a finger slowly down the length of him.
"Aelin," he warned, not in the mood to be teased. Normally, he'd sit there all day and let her fool around, but he wanted her--needed her--now.
She rolled her eyes, but gave him what he needed, leaning down to put her mouth on him.
A muttered "fuck" fell off his lips, his hips bucking slightly at the sudden sensation.
Her hands were running over his thighs and up his abs, like she relished the feel of him as much he did her.
Pulling back, she hollowed her cheeks and circled her tongue around his tip. Rowan's hands were fists at his sides and his jaw was clenched tight. She's been down there for ten seconds, he reminded himself, trying not to be a chump.
Except it felt too goddamn good.
She knew exactly what he liked, and she gave it to him so fucking well he could do nothing but sit there and try not to act like a wild animal.
His hands found their way into her hair, holding it back to give him an unobstructed view.
Her full lips enveloped him, staining his cock red, and he almost came at the sight.
"Look at me," he rasped, groaning when she opened her eyes to meet his. "Fucking hell."
Those eyes undid him, and he didn't care if it made him a chump or not.
"I'm close," he warned her, pulling out a little.
But she was having none of that and dipped her head to take all of him again.
With another muffled curse, release found him, and if there was ever any doubt as to if she was the perfect woman for him, it was gone the second she moaned as he came down her throat.
His head hit the seat behind him as he breathed and breathed and tried to not pass out.
Sitting up on her knees, Aelin licked her lips and looked him over slowly.
Rowan tucked himself back into his trousers, then grabbed her arms and pulled her up onto his lap. He tucked her into him, fixing her clothes as best he could. She'd definitely have to wear his jacket when she got out, considering he'd torn her underwear off, but that was a problem for later.
He kissed her brow, smiling. "Happy anniversary, Fireheart."
Her head tilted back, those eyes meeting his again. "Happy anniversary, Buzzard."
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shinsou and the very terrible, horrible, no good, very bad shift
— You, a new sidekick, screw up a case for a Pro Hero Shinsou, and he demands compensation.
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pairing: older!shinsou hitoshi x younger fem!reader
warnings: age gap (shinsou 25, reader 18), nsfw, 18+, pwp, DEGRADATION, power imbalance, spanking, marking, cursing, shinsou is a major asshole, mindbreak, sorta subspace, happy ending for shinsou, depending on person unhappy ending for reader, public sex, dubcon because of power imbalance
word count: 3,892
a/n: happy halloween. this is mean degradation imo like I thought ive done degradation but this made all those look like praise kink. be careful and click out if its too much
kinktober day 20 main kink: degradation | kinktober masterlist
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How you ever forgot that as a high school hero-in-training student, you were a big fish in a tiny pond was beyond you. Well, to be quite honest, you never thought yourself to be a big fish, to begin with.
You were eighteen, a few months from turning nineteen and had just graduated from the hero course over at UA. That in itself was a huge accomplishment, one that you should take with bubbling pride and joy, but to be quite honest, having such a big name attached to you only made you nervous. To tell the truth, you often wondered just why a hero within the top 50 even scouted you to work as an intern with them and then offer you a position as a sidekick as soon as you entered your third year. Still, it seemed to be a common predicament with BMI Hero: FatGum.
Today was your first day on the job, no longer a student part of a hero work-study, but as a physical, government paid hero — a fickle sidekick! You shuddered as you slipped on the shoes to your outfit, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you made your way out of the locker room, ready to report to your first assignment.
FatGum agency was quite a lovely place, loud and warm, being the first two adjectives you thought of when you first joined their ranks. It did wonders for your self-esteem, and seeing newly turned Pro Hero Suneater, who apparently was a million times more of a nervous mess than you were, made you feel oddly in good hands.
But still, nothing could keep you from the shock that ran through your body when FatGum proudly thrust forward a patrol route for you to follow.
“Alright, pipsqueak,” FatGum jovially spoke, his eyes closed while he smiled. “This is your route for the day! It should take about an hour to get through unless anything happens! You’ll go on the route every three hours, and in between those patrols, it’s the same paper system as before! Good luck out there, y/h/n, you got this!”
“Oh my god, no, I do not?!” you spluttered, hands shaking wildly as you went through the folder Fat had so quickly presented. “What if I die?!”
“You’ll be fine. Remember how Deku and Ground Zero complimented you the other day?”
“Yeah!” you exclaim, your face burning with your shame as you remembered that confrontation. “But that only happened because Deku is a living saint, and I spilled my noodles all over him and Ground Zero! Ground Zero was also, by the way, forced to compliment me by Deku! And all he said was that my combat skills were absolutely shitty but not as shitty as he thought they would be!”
“Ah yes, I remember Red Riot discussing how his friend was less than inept at expressing his gratitude,” FatGum hummed in memory, although that dumb, proud smile never left his face. “If I remember correctly, that means he has great respect for you!”
You made a dying noise at the back of your throat.
“But Deku doesn’t lie! He speaks honestly, so all his compliments were definitely true. Now, y/h/n, let's get through this day together, ne?”
You didn’t agree, but that wouldn’t stop him from throwing you out to the streets, your heart hammering in your throat as you walked through the path he used to take you on every day. Your smile was shaky and wobbly as the people you recognized waved and cheered you on. They were all excited to see you on your own.
However, they did point out that you were here an entire hour earlier than usual, but hey! That’s what happened when you went from being a student to trying to function as an adult!
“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” you chanted as you passed by the spookiest alleyway on your patrol.
The hour-long patrol was almost done if your watch wasn’t lying to you: a full patrol and not a single instance of needing to help. Well, you had assisted some people in carrying groceries and holding a child as a mother shopped for dinner that night, but there were no altercations, nothing out of the ordinary.
You marched through the alleyway, your fists in a shaky clenched grip as cold, nervous sweat dripped down your neck.
You were okay, you are okay, you will be okay.
“Nothing to be afraid of! Just a normal, average, no villains insight day!” you spoke to yourself, your body shaking as you pass an opening in the alleyway, and you turn your head to look and freeze.
“Alright, and I don’t want fucking nobody hearing goddamn shit about this drug, got it?!” a man with a quirk that made him look like a blowfish snapped.
Six men stood in the alleyway, all with tall, massive, threatening vibes. You didn’t make a single noise; you knew that for a fact, but their gazes still fell on you the moment the man stopped speaking. A horrible, stupid movie cliche that happened too often in hero life.
Your life probably flashed before your eyes at that single moment, your body and mind instinctively moving to call the heroes before realizing that you were the hero now. What do you do?! What could you do?! Drugs?! Did they have drugs?!
Panicking greatly, you watched their mouths move, but you couldn’t hear them as you took in their faces in a blur. Before you knew it, your mind shut down, and your body took over. You weren’t sure what it was. If you were way stronger than the entire group or if you just had an untapped potential that burst open right now, because you blinked and suddenly there were all thrown onto the floor, busted and bloody and tied up.
You… you did it?!
“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, your hands rising to your mouth as you looked at each and every one of their smushed, dirty faces. “I WON?! I won, oh my god, I won — wait?!”
You stepped over to the purple-haired man on the floor, his mouth stuffed with a cloth fabric you probably shoved in there at some point.
“M-Mindjack-sensei?!” you cried, your excitement of betting this drug handoff simmering off immediately. “W-What are you doing? Were you gonna stop this drug handoff? I — oh my god, let me get this off!” You scrambled to get the restraints off of Shinsou, unaware of the way the other captured men glared at Shinsou, utterly shocked and betrayed as you cleared him.
“Thank you for the capture, y/h/n!” a police officer congratulated you as you freed Shinsou, and you smiled, nodding your head. “Is it just four of them?”
You froze.
You had counted six men at first, and with Shinsou recovered, that made five men.
“I didn’t… I lost one of them?” you deflated, all sense of confidence draining you as Shinsou remained on the floor.
“Ah,” the police officer grimaced, his head shaking before he paused and looked up at you with a halfhearted smile. “Well, you still did good work! We’ll see what drug they were talking about, and if it’s nothing too crazy, they’ll be good to go!”
“Yeah, of course,” you smile weakly, feeling ready to cry as you hold onto your wrist.
“But, uh, who’s the guy on the ground?” he nodded towards Shinsou, who was looking entirely pissed off and ready to bite like some cornered, raging animal.
“Oh, Mindjack!” you respond, hands motioning toward one of the other older Pro Heroes you looked up to.
The police officer stared at Shinsou, an unconvinced look on his face.
“I thought he was… ah, well, old? And didn’t he have black hair?” he muttered before shrugging. You didn’t manage to stutter out your knowledge of the older man with black hair being Eraserhead because he was long gone already, fingers pressed to his radio, chatting with his HQ.
Breathing out a nervous sigh, you turned to Shinsou with a shy and fully apologetic smile. “I am so sorry for hurting you! Are you okay?” you asked, your eyes scanning the older heroes' stance, unable to read anything but annoyance radiating from his body.
“No, I’m not okay, actually,” Shinsou spat, his face finally looking up from the floor, and you felt your throat run thick at the rage and anger simmering from his face.
“W-Wha—” you stammer, taking a step back, overwhelmed.
“You just fucking ruined six months of undercover work,” he seethed, his feet moving to stalk towards you. You found yourself stumbling backward, looking everywhere but at him. You can feel your balance giving; the cold filth of the alleyway wall your saving grace as his fingers grabbed your jaw, forcing you to face him. His purple eyes black in his fury. “I don’t think you realized just how badly you fucked up?! You stupid fucking child!”
A wash of ice-cold realization flooded through you, the horror of what you knew you just did completely dawning on you as tears sprung in your eyes. You felt nauseous, utterly sick to your stomach because this seasoned Pro Hero definitely had shit to do, and you practically shat all over it.
“I am so sorry,” you whimper, pain shooting through you just slightly at the grip he has on your chin. “I am so so sorry, i-is there anything that I c-can do?! How can I-I fix it?!”
“You think I need help from some crybaby?” Shinsou snapped, thoroughly unimpressed by you, his eyes narrowing further. You didn’t even realize you were crying already.
“I-I’m useful, I promise!” you cry a bit more, your body struggling as the older hero trapped you against the wall, his face glowering down at you with the intensity of a million suns. “I-I’m a sidekick over a-at Fatgum’s agency, but, oh fuck, I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything you ask of me!”
There’s a looming silence, a heavy tension as his eyes drop from your eyes to your parted wet lips. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel every heavy breath expelling on your face.
“You think a pathetic, worthless little sidekick is able to do anything for me?” Shinsou snapped, his eyes narrowing as he loomed even closer. “A pathetic fucking bitch like you? I don’t think you can give me even a simple fucking action that would prove your worth.”
The words are hot embers on your ears, making your jaw drop, and your body trembles at the simple degradation. You feel your tears hot on your cheeks, your parted lips invaded by his dirt-covered fingers as he pressed onto your tongue. It had to be the shock of it, the reality of the hot, hard dick pressing into your stomach and the way he was staring at you like some piece of fucking meat, but you gagged around his fingers.
“Why am I not fucking surprised, you goddamn fucking whore,” he sneered, his fingers shoving faster into your mouth, pressing dangerously hard against your tongue, trying to get you to gag and choke around his fingers. “You fucking sure you’re a fucking sidekick? Look at you, pathetic, stupid, crying like a baby in an alleyway? You’re a hero, aren’t you? Fucking save yourself from this, you fucking bitch.”
You violently shake, your hands finding themselves tethered to his shirt, your head shaking nonetheless.
“Oh, you don’t want to save yourself?” He coos, his expression turning the slightest bit amused, maybe a bit possessive, but it lasts a second. You blink, and anger has replaced the amusement, red streaking in his vision. “Why the fuck not?”
“B-Because,” you strangle, your tongue flat against your mouth, your throat instinctively opening and closing against his fingers. “I said I’ll do anything y-you wanted!”
There’s another pause, and you wait pressed against the wall, your chest heaving with your anxiety and weird turned-on state. Shinsou was a Pro Hero, someone who was eight years older than you, someone you had respected since you were in grade school. Yet, here you were, looking nothing more than a slab of meat to him, a hole for him to abuse in his anger because you had fucked up.
“Oh, you stupid fucking slut,” he laughed, his teethed bared into a feral smirk. “You want this, huh. You want to please me any way I see fucking fit, fucking perfect. Turn around.”
There’s no room to argue or think; he turns you around without a second's notice. His hand shoving your chest into the wall, and you cry at the discomfort. He grabs your ass, pushing you uncomfortably into an arched position as he tears your pants down from your legs.
“You’re a worthless fucking cumdump. Not even noon yet, and I’m going use your fucking body however I see fit.” Shinsou promises, fingers raking down your supple ass. Nails tearing into your skin, fingers slapping your covered cunt. “You worthless fucking slut, dirty fucking whore, already goddamn wet.”
“I’m n-not wet!” you cry, hips spasming against his rough hold, and slaps to your aching cunt. You know it’s a lie, you know that clear as day, but it doesn’t keep you from lying. Doesn’t stop you from shivering when he pinches at the cloth of your panties and removes them from your sopping wet folds.
“You think I don’t know if you’re wet or not?” Shinsou growled in warning, his fingers pinching together your soaked folds. An action that makes you cry loudly, the sharp pain too much for you. “You think I’m some fucking idiot?”
“N-No!” you cry, his fingers shifting to where your throbbing entrance is and his other hand going to your mouth, once again claiming your lips as his nails purposefully impose pain on your heated cunt.
“You must think that since you’re lying to me,” he snaps, his mouth pressed to your ear, his hot breaths making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You want to speak up, say something, but his fingers are fucking your mouth, keeping you from speaking back. “But again, you aren’t fucking worth anything, are you? You’re not fucking anything.”
Those words whip against your skin, making you twist in his arms, hot tears pushing past your eyes again as you cry.
“Oh, you don’t like that?” Shinsou comments, his fingers pinching and pulling your tongue, and his hips begin to grind his hot, burning flesh into your ass. “Well, you better stop fucking crying because I’m not gonna stop until I’m fucking done — until I’m fucking relieved. This isn’t about you; this is for me. You aren’t shit, fucking worthless piece of shit whore.”
You sob into the brick wall, the tears unable to be stopped, unable to clear as his fingers that were scraping at your folds begin to fuck you at the same time as he fingers your mouth faster. The sensation of being outside, finger fucked in an alleyway by a Pro Hero you admired and respected beyond comparison, made you tremble with want and need. His cruel, completely degrading words a warm fire in your belly and against your skin.
The sounds of the wet caverns he was currently fucking begin to echo in the wall, his throbbing cock grinding against your ass. It’s a sensation that makes you cry with need, your ass shifting back to feel him more, to get more from the contact he’s giving you.
“Of course some screwup like you likes this shit,” Shinsou grunted, his fingers fishing and rubbing against the spongy warmth of your walls, fingers scraping ever so gently against the velvetiness. You spasm against his touch, your whiney, pleasure-filled noises filling up the alleyway almost as loudly as the choking and the squelching of your pussy.
His hands suddenly leave your mouth, and you’re heaving at the deserted feeling in your mouth. You whip your head around, trying to see just why he had abandoned your mouth, desperate to please him more in any way he saw fit. But instead, you’re met with the sicky coldness of your saliva spread across your face. Almost instantly drying against your face as your still tear-soaked eyes looked into his dark ones.
“Don’t look so fucking sad, stupid cockslut,” Shinsou snapped, his hand that had been fucking your cunt abandoning your warmth and meeting your face. You whined, unable to come up with words as he spreads your slick against your face. A shiver wrecks your spine, a pathetic whimper at the smell, and the feel of the warm thickness of your slick. “You wanted this, fucking asked me to wreck your worthless holes.”
“I-I’m not sad,” you try to defend yourself, your body shaking as you feel the heated warmth of his cock suddenly between the curves of your ass. It presses heavily onto you, skin twitching and throbbing with its emitting warmth and simmering heat.
Shinsou pauses, his eyes deadly and threatening as he glares at you. Unamusement heavy in his gaze, his mouth set in a small, teeth-baring snarl. “Then why the fuck are you crying? You think you deserve to be crying right now? No. You fucking worthless slut, you don’t. You ruined my damn shift, my damn case, I should be the one fucking crying. Your pathetic ass is worthless and tried to make my life the same, and that won’t fucking fly.”
The words tighten at your throat, your body trembling as tears continue to flow. His words are white-hot against your skin, and although it hurts to hear it, your cunt clenches in response, slicking even more.
His hand comes down suddenly onto your ass. The slap sharp and stinging, echoing loudly against the alleyway walls as you scream in pain. It throbs, your back contorting as you try to stretch the skin that makes you ache. But Shinsou spanks your ass again, without warning, his hand unmerciful against your soft, swelling flesh. You yelp again.
He spanks again, and again, and again. Each echoing action sending your voice screaming, counting them without even being told, succumbed to him and his every action and thought without needing to be. He spanks you until your ass feels raw and bloody, the bruises undoubtedly forming as he pinches the folds of your dripping cunt.
“Stick your ass out more,” he growls, tugging at the fold, making you stumble. The cock pressing onto the split of your ass feels heavy, and you twitch at the seeping pre-cum dripping onto your muscled rim. The bricks scratch at your face, and you find your ass wiggling out further from the wall, your back arched more as the cold wall sings through the clothes on your breast. “I’m not gonna put more fucking effort into fucking a goddamn worthless bitch than I should.”
And with that, your ass perfectly exposed for him to use and fuck. His throbbing cock presses through your pussy and slams all the way into you.
There were many pains you were used to as an aspiring hero. You were used to being punched, kicked, stabbed, thrown about, etc. Each of those pains were something you had been taught to make feel better, each pain demonstrated to you so that it wouldn’t be the thing that took you out. But there was no training for the way that his thick cock pressed through your impossibly tight entrance. There was no pain that could relate to the white fire of your rapidly fluttering entrance that was trying too hard to keep up with his slamming thick cock.
“IT HURTS!” you shriek, body twisting, tears flooding your cheeks as you feel weak in the legs. Body moments from falling. “It hurts so much! Please! It hurts!”
“Oh? It hurts? It's supposed to fucking hurt you fucking idiot, fucking whore,” Shinsou snapped in return, his hips firing into even faster than before. His massive body practically caving onto you as his cock rockets into you. Unforgiving, relentless, and with the drive to make him cum. Your vision swirls and spins as the pain reaches its peak, your mouth opening, your voice no longer working. But oh, how the saliva dripped from your mouth as his hands abandoned your waist to grab onto your stretched cheeks. He held onto your cheeks like some gag, slamming your head into his chest so your dazed eyes could stare up at him as his menacing gaze bore down on you. “You think this was supposed to make you feel good? I don’t give a shit if you cum. This is for me. I’m not fucking stopping until I’m done using you, so shut the fuck up.”
Your whimper is soft, no longer able to keep up with the pleasure your body begins to reach as the pain becomes one of pure bliss. Your eyes crossing as every thrust of his welcomed cock drives you further and further up the wall. The squelching of your meeting sexes almost sounds like a nursery rhyme. A pleasant noise that makes you giggle deliriously as Shinsou continues to degrade you continues to spout how insignificant you are.
“Your only purpose in your shit life is to be my fucking cumdump, fucking bitch, do you understand me?” Shinsou spat, his thrusting becoming barbaric, stammering in his power and speed. You laugh, your head nodding as you stare up at him with loving eyes, the drool and tears on your face trailing down your throat, soaking your uniform. “Tell me what your purpose is?”
“To be your cumdump!” you laugh, elation bubbling in your chest, fluttering deep around your cunt until you felt Shinsou’s teeth sink into your throat.
The feeling of hot, sticky cum expelling into your cunt feels like blistering euphoria, his heavy, rough breathing on your skin, making you moan softly. Your own orgasm hits, much softer, much more controlled than his as your walls clamp down like a vice around him. Your orgasm is warm, sounding deep within you that you almost didn’t realize you were dropped to the floor.
A soft, pitiful moan sounds from your lip, your eyes focused on Shinsou, who’s shoving his limp cock back into his pants, but his eyes are on the skyline.
“I-I’m sorry for messing up your… your case,” you rasp on the floor.
Shinsou shifts on his feet, his gaze lingering longer onto the skyline before finally setting onto you. The anger seems to have disappeared, a look of slight boredom but the excitement in his eyes as he leans down over you. You feel breathless when his mouth presses against yours in a short, chaste kiss.
“I think you just helped me keep my cover, slut; maybe you do have some worth,” he laughed against your mouth.
He leaves you there, your body going limp and blackness taking over the moment he disappears.
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Finally Free-Jax Teller x Reader
For @little-diable 7k challenge! You’re amazing and I’m so so happy for you! I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy reading it! My prompt was ‘There is a moment of absolute freedom when you realize that the things that used to scare you have no power over you anymore’
Y/ns POV
“I thought I might find you up here,” Jax said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“You doing okay?” He asked, lighting his cigarette as he sat down next me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I muttered, giving him a small smile, but he just shook his head at my response seeing straight through my lie.
“Do you wanna try that again and tell me the truth this time?” Raising an eyebrow, as he offered me his cigarette.
“I just..I feel stuck, y’know, like I can’t have the life I want,it’s the life they want for me,” I sighed, taking a long drag of his cigarette as I looked out at the view from the rooftop of the clubhouse.
“I know, darlin,” Jax cooed, kissing the side of my head softly as he pulled me closer to him.
“It doesn’t have to be like this though.” he continued, one of his hands tracing soothingly up and down my arm.
“You don’t have to be who they want you to be, you can just be you,” he whispered as I leaned my head on his shoulder.
“You know I can’t just be me...I never can, not with them, not like I can with you and the club” I muttered, taking one last puff of the cigarette before putting it out and throwing it away.
“Well, then that’s their loss, because I think you’re amazing, just the way you are, y’know mum and the other adore you, so you must be special,” he soothed, placing a comforting kiss on the side of my head.
“You don’t need their approval on anything, darlin’, if you want to go to that university, then I will come up and visit you every goddamn day...but just know that you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
~~~~~~~~
“I’m not going,” I stated simply, watching rage engulf my dad's face as his fists clenched.
“I’ve not spent the last two decades working my ass off, for you to say no to this, how ungrateful can you be?!” he snapped back, slamming one of his fists down on the table making me jump slightly, though I suppose I should be used to it by now.
“Honey,” my mum began, moving slightly so that she was now standing between us.
“You spent all that time at college, working so hard for this. For years you dreamed about getting into this university-”
“That was your dream, not mine,” I pointed out calmly, standing my ground against them for the first time in my entire life, causing my mum to just sigh in response as she shook her head disapprovingly.
“What are you going to do instead then?” My dad bellowed, his eyes burning into me-if looks could kill, I’d be six feet under by now.
“It doesn’t matter what I-”
“You’re gonna go be with that Teller boy aren’t you?! You’re gonna go and be his slut! He’ll fuck you and then he’ll leave you, that’s what those types of men do!” He continued,
“I’m an adult!” I bit back, my anger catching him off guard.
“I can do what I like. I can be with who I like. I can have the life that I want, not the one that you and mum dreamed up for me without so much as asking if it’s what I wanted,” I continued, being sure to keep my eyes fixed on his and not show any sign of fear, because as soon as he saw fear, I’d be done for.
“You ungrateful bitch,”he seethed, picking up one of the glasses from the table and throwing it in my direction; but I paid no attention to his words or his actions as I walked upstairs, quickly packing my bag. There was no way I was staying in this house...not anymore, not ever again.
“If you leave this house, you’re dead to us,” my dad warned as I walked down the stairs, but again I just ignored him and headed towards the door, causing him to walk in the opposite direction, punching every wall he could find.
“Honey, just think about this. That family is dangerous..that man is dangerous, the things they do...they’re criminals,” my mum said, grabbing my hand lightly as I walked past her with my suitcase in hand.
“I know who they are. I know who he is. He’s the one who’s always been there for me. Always. And yes, he may be a criminal, but I feel safe with him. Safer than I think I’ve ever done in my entire life, but I doubt you know what that feels like, mum,” I retorted back, anger lacing my as I pulled my hand away from hers.
“They may be criminals, but he’s a monster and you know it,” I said, calmer than before, feeling my eyes fill up with tears slightly as I left the house. I loved my mum, I really did, perhaps that’s why I went along with the dream her and dad had for me, so that it made her life easier. We’d had the argument countless times about leaving, moving away and starting somewhere new away from dad; but she never listened to me. As much as part of me hated leaving her, I couldn’t stay there anymore and just because she wanted to stay in that life, didn’t mean that I had to. So with that thought in mind, I went to the only place I knew I could..to the one person I could always go to. Jax.
~~~~~~~~
“Hey, darlin’,” Jax greeted, answering the door.
“Can I stay here for a bit?” I asked quickly, worry momentarily consuming me...I hadn’t really thought about what I’d do if Jax said no.
“Of course you can, darlin, you know that,” he said without any hesitation as he took my bag from me, and let me in.
“What happened?” he questioned, his eyes scanning quickly over my face looking for any signs of harm.
“I stood up to them,” I said, feeling a smile come across my face as I said those words.
“Seriously?” he asked, a beaming smile coming across his face too; I just nodded, feeling my smile grow. Within seconds he’d placed the bag on the floor and taken me in his arms, lifting me up slightly before spinning around in a circle, both of us bursting out in joys of laughter.
“Thank you,” I whispered to him, once my feet returned to the ground.
“What are you thanking me for?” he asked, with a small chuckle in his voice.
“For this...for giving me the strength to be who I want to be,” I replied, cupping his cheek lightly.
“Darlin, I didn’t do anything, except tell you the truth,” he cooed, before kissing my lips softly.
“I love you, ” he whispered, before placing his lips on mine again, instantly I kissed him back, with a smile on my face. Some people say that there is a moment of absolute freedom when you realize that the things that used to scare you have no power over you anymore..I never in a million years thought that I would’ve had the courage to have done what I had..and I certainly never thought that I’d be able to finally be with Jax...it felt so surreal, like it was all just some type of dream. But it wasn’t a dream, it had all actually happened and now here I was, his soft lips connecting with mine, taking away all the fear that once controlled me.
“I love you too,” I breathed back, letting the feeling of freedom his lips bought consume me.
“You’re safe with me, darlin’, always,”
#jax teller imagine#jax teller x reader#jax teller x you#jax iamgine#jax x reader#jax teller x oc#jax teller x ofc#jax x oc#jax x ofc#sons of anarchy imagines#sons of anarchy imagine#jax teller imagines#sons of anarchy x reader#sons of anarchy x you#jackson teller#soa imagine#soa x reader#soa jax teller#soa jax
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Not sure if you’re still taking prompts, but if you are I’ve got something for you: In light of spooky season, I present to you modern au roommates having a scary movie/show night (watching Netflix’s Haunting of Hill House or Bly Manor or something) in which GERALT is the one too spooked to sleep alone. But he’s Geralt, so it’s not like he’ll actually ask for company. Jaskier is perceptive, though, and realizes what’s going on.
OK I really hate horror films and I have never actually watched one. What I have watched is Doctor Who... so... Weeping Angels anyone? Have fun! (Also on AO3)
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Geralt wasn’t sure why Jaskier always chose horror movies. He hated horror movies. He always squeaked at the jump scares and ended up in Geralt’s lap. Geralt didn’t mind horror movies particularly. The jump scares did fuck all to frighten him and if he was being honest he quite liked having the excuse to hold Jaskier in his arms. They had been best friends since university and it had made sense for them to continue living together once they’d graduated. The economy was shit and if Jaskier wanted to pursue his dreams of becoming a musician then he needed a housemate. As for Geralt, after his explosive break up with their other best friend, Yennefer, he hadn’t really felt like living alone.
So they’d moved in together.
And every Friday was movie night. They took turns in choosing the film and Jaskier always chose a horror film. Tonight was no different and Jaskier was shaking in his arms like a flower in the wind, fitting he supposed.
“Oh shit!!” Jaskier moaned as the statues moved closer to the house. The poor protagonist had taken her eyes off them to check on her friend. “Geralt!”
Geralt rolled his eyes but threaded his hands through Jaskier’s hair and placed a kiss on his friend’s temple. The first time he’d done that a month ago he’d panicked. It had been an accident but it had settled Jaskier’s nerves better than anything else he’d tried. Jaskier hadn’t mentioned it so small kisses to Jaskier’s hair and forehead had just become another part of their friendship. “It’s worse if you don’t look.” He murmured. “They are only still when we’re looking at them.”
“Geralt!” Jaskier pressed his face against Geralt’s chest and his fingers clawed at Geralt’s hoody. “That’s only for the characters.” He mumbled, his voice muffled by Geralt’s clothes.
Geralt tilted his head and peered at the screen. The statue was still and unmoving but none of the characters were looking at it. It was only stone because the camera was looking at it. He said as much to Jaskier who just groaned and held him tighter.
“Fuck you, Geralt. You just had to go and make it worse!” Jaskier grumbled.
“You wanted to watch it.”
“Fuck off!”
Jaskier didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the film. On the rare occasion he did peek at the screen through his hands, he squeaked and snuggled back into Geralt’s chest. Geralt kept a hand in Jaskier’s hair and murmured reassurances at him as he watched the film. The plot moved slowly, unlike the statues, as the characters were sent back in time one by one until only two of them remained. The statues then started to mess with the lights in their quest to get to some powerful artefact that would allow them to take over the universe.
The two remaining characters screamed as they were left at the mercy of the four statues creeping towards them as the lights flickered on and off. Geralt had to admit even he had goosebumps and his heart was racing faster in his chest.
“Fuck.” He mumbled not able to tear his eyes from the screen as if that would help the characters.
“Oh gods, if you’re saying that it must be bad.” Jaskier moaned against his chest.
“You’re not even watching.” Geralt grumbled. “I’ll turn it off.”
“Oh no! Nooo no no.” Jaskier protested. “I’m still listening! I want to know what happens!” He peered up at Geralt with those glimmering blue eyes that haunted Geralt’s dreams.
Fuck he was so beautiful.
A loud bang on the screen broke the moment and they both jumped to face the television. Jaskier immediately curled back against Geralt’s chest. Geralt was almost tempted to hide in Jaskier’s hair but he couldn’t do that. He was the strong one. He protected Jaskier so he kept his eyes fixed on the screen until the credits began to roll. The protagonist had ended up sobbing over her lost friends alone in her apartment, the universe had been saved but at what cost.
Geralt felt strangely moved by the whole thing. Jaskier was still nestled in his arms, safe and asleep. Geralt finally allowed himself to nuzzle against Jaskier’s soft hair, inhaling his calming chamomile scent. Fuck he didn’t want to be alone like she had been. What was the point of living if everyone you loved was taken from you?
Geralt’s heart was still racing and not even Jaskier scent was helping to calm his nerves.
“Fuck.” He groaned as quietly as he could but even that was too loud. Jaskier had always been a light sleeper unless he was sick.
“Geralt? Oh shit. Did I miss the end?” He rubbed his eyes and peered sleepily at the blank screen of the television. Geralt hummed in agreement. “Oh. Well you’ll have to tell me what happened in the morning.” Jaskier sighed and started to extract himself from Geralt’s arms.
Geralt felt himself tense up as Jaskier stood up. Shit. He’d never felt this bad after a film before. His jaw clenched as he watched Jaskier head towards his bedroom. Fucking idiot hadn’t even watched the film, of course he would rest easy tonight in blissful ignorance.
At the last moment Jaskier turned and glanced over his shoulder. His bright smile fell from his face when his eyes met Geralt’s. “Geralt? Are you alright?”
Geralt’s hands were tight fists by his side, nails digging into his palms. He glowered at Jaskier. “I’m fine.”
Jaskier tilted his head and put a hand on his hip. “You don’t look fine.”
“I’m fine, Jaskier.” He snapped.
Jaskier scoffed and pranced back over to sit back down on the sofa. “You’re fine.” He sang, clearly not believing Geralt.
“Hmm.”
“But I am not fine!” Jaskier announced and draped himself across Geralt’s lap. Geralt tried to glare at him but he was pleased to have his friend back in his arms. “Cuddle me.” Jaskier rolled onto his back and pouted up at Geralt, his head resting in Geralt’s lap whilst his legs sprawled out over the sofa cushions.
Geralt smirked and rolled his eyes. “You won’t sleep like that.”
“I will!” Jaskier’s lower lip jutted out and Geralt had to grit his teeth to stop himself from leaning down and kissing his friend. Did he have to be so goddamn cute all the time?
“You won’t.” Geralt insisted firmly, ruffling Jaskier’s hair. “You’ll wake up if I so much as breathe too heavily”
Jaskier huffed. “Well I’m not sleeping alone, not after that monstrosity.” He gestured wildly to the television.
“You can sleep in my room.” Geralt suggested with a faint smile that he was trying to hide. “If you want.” He added just to be sure.
Jaskier beamed up at him like he was the sun itself. “My hero!”
“Now get off so we can get to bed.” Geralt grumbled. His heart was still racing but it had little to do with the film anymore and everything to do with the way Jaskier’s eyes were shining with open affection.
Jaskier pouted. “Carry me?”
“What?” Geralt groaned, exasperated by his friend.
“I’m tired!” He whined. “Please?”
Geralt sighed but shifted Jaskier in his lap so he was able to scoop him up bridal style. Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck and placed a kiss to his cheek.
Well that was new.
Geralt smiled softly at the brunet in his arms. “What was that for?”
“Because, my darling, you are my hero and every hero deserves a kiss.” Jaskier answered with a disarming smile.
“Is that so?” He hummed as a thought began to grow in his mind.
Jaskier laughed and kissed his cheek again. “And that one is for being so strong and carrying me to my room.”
“I think I deserve one for ordering dinner.” Geralt suggested and Jaskier’s eyes lit up.
“Oh darling, how could I forget?” Jaskier kissed him again, this time barely a centimetre from his lips. “Oh and one for letting me share your bed.” Jaskier moved in slower this time and Geralt’s breath caught in his throat. It took all his strength not to drop him as Jaskier’s lips hovered over his. “May I?”
Geralt didn’t answer. There was no need, not when Jaskier’s lips were so close. Their noses bumped together as their lips finally met. Jaskier’s hand gripped tighter on Geralt’s hoody and Geralt kicked open his bedroom door, not wanting to break the kiss. He’d spent so long wishing that he could have this that he wasn’t going to miss a single moment.
Jaskier seemed to be similarly inclined, moaning as Geralt lowered him onto the bed. When they finally had to break apart to breath, Jaskier began to laugh, his beautiful musical laugh. Geralt sat back on his ankles and gave Jaskier a puzzled look.
“What?”
Jaskier propped himself up on one elbow and reached out for Geralt’s hand. “I’m just happy, my dear. You should always laugh when you’re happy.”
Geralt chuckled. “Hmm. Well then I’m happy too.”
Jaskier licked his lips and gave him a mischievous smile. “Even if I made you watch the scary film?”
“Wasn’t scared.”
“Oh yeah sure.” Jaskier drawled. “I believe you.”
“I was protecting you!” Geralt growled.
Jaskier sighed and fell back on the bed. “You were ever so brave, dear heart.”
God he was insufferable. Geralt had to wonder whether he was mad, wanting Jaskier like he did. He just never shut up….
Except when they were kissing…
Geralt grinned and lunged forwards to capture Jaskier’s lips once more. It was what the hero deserved after all.
______________________
Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @awitchersbard @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @victorieschild
#the witcher#geraskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier panktraz#geraskier fanfiction#hurt/comfort#snuggles#friends to lovers#modern AU#wolfie's witcher writing#Anonymous
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Words: 3,778
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Reader pronouns: she/her
Era: Alexandria
Warnings: None really!
A/N: This is the final part of a miniseries! Find the previous part on the Masterlist!
Your name: submit What is this?
The next morning, Daryl was still sitting watch outside the barn as he had promised you when some movement up at the farmhouse caught his eye. He straightened up when he saw it was you stepping onto the porch. He immediately started heading over and met you at the steps. The bruising on your arm from your boyfriend’s hand and fingers and on your face from where he had hit you had darkened overnight and his stomach twisted and clenched with anger. The split in your bottom lip glared out against the delicate pink around it, a dark crimson slice.
“Hey. Are ya alright?” His blue eyes were narrowed in concern.
You nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.” You glanced over at the makeshift campsite. It was quiet and still. “Everyone still sleeping?” you asked.
“Mhm,” he hummed. “Ya sure ya should be up and about? Ya got a concussion.”
“I’m okay.” You gave him a long look and Daryl waited. He could sense you were on the edge of saying something. You tried to gulp down the nerves. “Would you—will you take me to go talk to him?”
Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. “Ya dun owe him anythin’,” he drawled. The gravel was heavier in his voice than usual.
Daryl nudged his nose up at you in a nod. He turned to lead the way but you called him back.
“Daryl—” There was worry and anxiety etched in your brow and somehow the archer knew what you were trying to ask.
“I won’t leave ya alone with him. Don’t worry.”
You gulped, grateful that he understood implicitly, immediately. You went down the steps and fell into stride beside him.
“How’d ya sleep? Ya get some rest?” he asked, casting a sideways glance in your direction. It almost physically hurt him when his eyes hitched on your injuries.
You nodded. “A little. Except Hershel had someone coming in to wake me up every hour or so… I guess that’s to make sure I wasn’t going into a coma after the—the concussion…”
Daryl felt that familiar burn of rage in his chest. “Is it that serious?” he asked, stopping dead. “Maybe ya really shouldn’t be up. We should get ya—”
“I’m fine. I think he was just being cautious,” you countered.
Daryl gulped under the fixed gaze of your eyes but ultimately nodded and started toward the barn again.
“Did you get any sleep?” you asked kindly, concern in your tone.
Daryl shrugged vaguely. “Nah. But s’alright. Wanted to make sure he was locked up and couldn’t get to ya. Once the others are up, I’ll catch a few hours.”
You gave him a grateful smile, feeling your cheeks warm a little with a blush. “Thanks for that.” He only nodded.
Finally, you both arrived at the barn and Daryl unlocked the door and paused with his hand on the latch. “Ya sure?” You looked a little afraid, but you nodded. He swung the door open and followed you inside. He passed in front of you as you crossed the space to a huddled figure leaning partially up against the opposite wall, half-slumped over toward the dirt floor. Daryl rushed up to him and kicked the bottom of his boot hard. “Wake up, dumbass!” he growled.
He stirred and lifted his head. You could see that his face was bloody and bruised, with one eye completely swollen shut, the result of Daryl’s fists the day before. You felt sick when he noticed you were there, his whole body language changed. His whole demeanor changed, but you knew it was just all an act.
“Oh, baby. Babe, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you! I just got so jealous. Please, I just—I love you so much!” He was immediately pleading. Your heart started to race and the sick feeling in your stomach only increased.
Daryl was immediately on him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and thrusting him hard against the wall. “Shut the fuck up! I don’t wanna hear another goddamn word out of ya. Ya ain’t even deserve to look at her, but she’s got some things she wants to say, and you’re gonna listen. Got it?” Your boyfriend averted his eyes and said nothing, and Daryl released his hold on him. Your ex-boyfriend’s eyes drifted back to you. They were cold, hard.
Daryl stood just behind you, watching the scene carefully for anything going the slightest millimeter wrong.
“They asked me what to do with you. You’re gonna be gone, but whether that’s away from here or dead is mostly up to me.” You paused and gulped again at the tightness in your throat. “But I think a quick and easy death is just too good for you. Besides, I don’t want anyone’s blood on my hands, even yours. So, I’m gonna tell Rick to take you way out, alone, into the middle of nowhere and just leave you. So maybe you’ll feel a modicum of the fear you put me through every day. You’ll experience how alone I felt, how isolated. How helpless. How robbed of every part of me that mattered. And then the walkers can have you. Or maybe you’ll meet someone just like yourself and get a taste of your own medicine.” Your bottom lip was quivering a little but you were determined to get through this. “And there’s something else you should know. Right now, this is the last time I will ever think about you. But you? You’ll think about me every day. You’ll think about what you did. But I don’t care about you anymore. It’ll be like you never existed.”
You stared at him once more for a long moment and then turned to look at Daryl. He nudged his nose up at you in a nod and you headed for the door, leaving behind the man you had once loved who you now didn’t recognize. Daryl latched and locked up the barn and you waited for him, your arms across yourself again, subconscious armor. He was anxiously chewing his bottom lip when he turned around and caught your striking eyes. “Ya did good in there. Ya feel better? After havin’ your say?”
Your expression turned a little sad. “Maybe a tiny bit. But mostly no. Besides, it was a lie. He’ll haunt me for a while. But it’ll be different. He won’t have control over me anymore. And I won’t live every day like I’m walking on eggshells.” You studied Daryl’s face for a moment and felt a warmth growing in your chest. “Thank you, Daryl. For everything.”
He shook his head. “S’nothin’.”
Your lips curved in a small smile and Daryl watched with surprise as you came close to him and stretched yourself up on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek. Setting your heels back down, your eyes flickered between his, memorizing the shades of blue in them. His expression was a little impassive, but you didn’t mind. You smiled up at him again. “Get some sleep,” you said, gently touching his arm, before turning and heading away back up to the farmhouse. The trail of warmth and slight tingling, like the remnants of a static charge, were still strong on his skin even as your figure faded away.
Daryl’s heart was hammering in his chest still as he laid down on his cot in his tent, chasing sleep.
_ _ _ _ _ _
Two Months Later “Hey!” Daryl jumped up from the log he was seated on beside his small fire circle as he saw you starting to cross the green space toward the tree line. You paused and turned at the sound of his voice and the smile you gave him sent a rush of heat to his chest which quickly poured into his face. You just brightened when you smiled and he found it damn near irresistible. “Where the hell ya think you’re going?” he said, jest plain in his voice as he jogged over to you.
You adjusted the strap of your pack on your shoulder and rested the other hand on the hilt of your knife, which was sheathed at your hip. “Gonna go see what I can forage. If I have to listen to Rick and Shane bickering anymore today, I’m going to lose my mind,” you joked.
“Yer just gonna go off out there? By yerself?” he asked you, his brow drawing down low over his blue eyes. “Real nice. Where the hell is my invite?”
You laughed jovially, and Daryl felt another jolt to his heart, causing it to skip a beat. He loved the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed, and how now you gave into it with your whole being. You were just like that, despite everything you had been through and despite the state of the world, you just gave into it. It gave Daryl hope. You straightened up and gave him a half-smile. “Well, where’s your crossbow? Come on. How are you gonna keep me safe from walkers without it?”
Daryl smiled back at you, just a small one like he always did, but it still filled you up every time you saw it. He lifted his chin in a nod. “Be right back,” he drawled. You were happy to wait for him while he grabbed his gear and returned to your side.
You fell into stride beside each other at an easy pace and headed toward the tree line. “So, Rick and Shane were goin’ at it again, huh?” Daryl asked. “What was it this time?”
You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Nothing. That’s the thing… Shane is just—I don’t know. He takes any excuse he can to pick an argument with Rick. He’s just—I don’t know…” you trailed off. “He makes me uncomfortable,” you said.
Daryl glanced over at you, his face darkening with a shadow of concern. “He do somethin’?” He felt a swell of protective fire in his chest.
You met his blue eyes and shook your head. “No. No, nothing. I just mean he seems… unstable,” you said. You had reached the edge of the woods now and you pulled a small bag out of the side pocket of your pack and unsnapped the loop over your knife hilt. You scanned the ground for edible plants and mushrooms.
“Ya, cuz he is,” Daryl agreed, glancing around to check for any sign of walkers. “I’ve known plenty of assholes like him before… He just seems to be better at foolin’ people about what he really is. At least he was. Promise me somethin’, though?” You looked up at the archer with a quizzical expression. “If he does anything to ya, tries anything ya don’t like—Hell, him or anyone else, ya tell me, alright?”
You suddenly lost your courage to hold his eyes in the wake of his protectiveness and you felt your cheeks burn a little with a blush. You averted your eyes back toward the ground but nodded. “What would I do without you, Daryl?”
He shrugged and hummed a vague and somewhat dismissive noise, even while he felt that fluttering between his lungs he always associated only with you.
You passed the time easily beside Daryl, and managed to find some wild mushrooms and berries that would add some much-needed variety and nutrition to everyone’s diet. You had just been thinking that it was probably time to head back when Daryl suddenly straightened up and looked skyward.
“We better get goin’,” he said. “S’gonna storm.”
No sooner had he spoken those words than the light seemed to shift and darken. You nodded. “Yeah. Those clouds don’t exactly look friendly.” You shoved the bag you had been collecting berries in back into your pack. “Let’s go.”
Daryl led the way quickly through the underbrush as thunder rolled in the distance. You both emerged from the tree line into the pasture just as lightening cracked and the sky opened up and unleashed a torrent of rain. You were both soaked in an instant and you let out a gasp of surprise at the coldness of the rain. Glancing over at Daryl, who was squinting at you through the downpour, you couldn’t help laughing at the situation as you tried to fend off shivers as the freezing rainwater rolled down your skin.
“C’mon! My tent is closest!” he yelled over the rain. You nodded and took off with him through the grey veil, running with abandon the way you had when you were a child trying to get home before dark. Your socks squished inside your inundated boots as they pounded the saturated ground. Your jeans were heavy with moisture and you felt your clothing and hair clinging to you as you moved.
When you arrived at Daryl’s campsite, he hastily unzipped his tent and held the cloth door open for you to pass inside first. You rushed in but tried to corral yourself in the middle of the tent so you wouldn’t shed rainwater all over his space. “Oh my God,” you said with a laugh, looking over at him as he zipped the door closed. “Soaked through and through.” He set his crossbow down at the edge of the tent and you gulped as you watched water droplets roll down from his wet hair and descend over his collarbone and strong arms. You tried your hardest to prevent a shiver from wracking through you, but to no avail. You were soaked and the autumn rain had been stinging with cold.
Daryl was trying his hardest to avoid looking at how your wet clothes were clinging to the curves and angles of your body and he was grateful for a distraction when he saw you shiver. He went to his duffel bag and pulled out a clean towel.
“Thanks,” you said, accepting it gratefully and trying to wring the water from your hair with it before wrapping it around your shoulders. “Not sure how much good it will do,” you said, laughing as you looked down at your sodden clothing and boots.
“Guess I shoulda pulled us outta there a little sooner,” he drawled, still avoiding looking at you because every time he did he felt like his brain started to go fuzzy and the warmth kindling in his chest was almost overwhelming.
It suddenly struck you how familiar this felt, but at the same time how different. “Not the first time I’ve hidden from the rain in here,” you said suddenly, not even really meaning to speak the thought aloud.
Daryl’s eyes snapped up to your face. That night had been on his mind since the moment the first raindrop hit him. He anxiously chewed his bottom lip and nodded.
The atmosphere between you in the small space, with the rain hammering on the outside of the tent, was sudden charged and heavy.
“But it feels different this time,” you said softly. “Nothing to hide from. Nowhere I’m supposed to be.”
Daryl’s blue eyes flickered between yours. “I shoulda known,” he said regretfully. “I shoulda done somethin’ about him sooner.”
You gave him a sad smile and shook your head. “That’s not on you. Any of it. You did enough.” You took a somewhat hesitant step toward him and Daryl watched as the towel slipped from around your shoulders and fell to the floor in a soft pile, forgotten in the intensity of the moment. “You do more than enough.” You studied his face, each fleck of blue in his eyes, the angles of his jaw. His shirt was clinging to his strong chest and you wanted more than anything at that moment to reach out and touch him, press your hands gently to him in the way he too deserved to be touched.
Daryl couldn’t look away from you. Your gaze, you were magnetic and he felt like he was being drawn in, pulled in. He was seconds away from tumbling into something he would be only too happy to get lost in.
But you suddenly turned and Daryl watched, puzzled, as you went to the upended box that served as a table beside his cot. You carefully moved aside a stray crossbow bolt and a wrinkled paperback and found what you were looking for; the pressed honeysuckle you had found that night, months ago, picked even longer ago before that. You laid the delicate, papery flower out on your palm before turning back to the archer.
He shifted a little anxiously as he saw what you had in your hand.
“You kept it. This whole time,” you said, glancing from the crimson bloom back up to meet his eyes, which were narrowed slightly at you as he waited to see where this was going, nervous but reeling with hopeful anticipation. “Why?” you asked simply. You were merely half a foot apart now, your palm held up flat between the two of you revealing the muted shades of green and red.
Daryl gulped down his nerves and shifted in a shrug. “Ya know why,” he said simply, his deep voice almost feeling like it was wrapping around you.
You stared back down at the flower in your hand. “It’s just a flower. It’s not—” But whatever you had been about to say was stopped by Daryl’s lips on yours. He clasped your face delicately in his hands and kissed you with an urgency that wouldn’t be ignored, couldn’t be.
At first you let out a soft noise of surprise, but Daryl’s nerves vanished as your lips gave softly beneath his and suddenly you were kissing him back eagerly. Your hands were on his sides, feeling the tensed muscles beneath his wet shirt and neither of you noticed the honeysuckle bloom floating gently to the floor as you sank into one another. You arched up onto your toes and looped your arms around his neck, pulling into him more deeply. Daryl’s hands lightly found your waist, your hips, one finally settling in the small of your back keeping you against him with gentle pressure. The world outside seemed to fall away and vanish and it was just you and him and the sound of the storm. The kiss was hungry and fervent but eventually softened and Daryl watched with disbelief as you pulled slightly away and your eyes opened, eyelashes fluttering, revealing the striking color of your irises which he was finally able to study as closely as he wanted, memorizing each hue, fleck, and ring of color. Your lips curved in a smile as you looked up at him and you were sure your cheeks were flushed, because wow. God you had wanted to do that for a long time, longer than you had admitted to yourself.
You clasped his face gently and ran your thumb along his strong jaw, subconsciously biting your bottom lip.
You felt one of his fingers lightly moving on your lower back, like he needed to feel you, really feel you to know this was real.
“Can we, uhh, do that again?” you said with a smile.
Daryl’s mouth twitched up on one side in a smile and he nudged his nose up at you. Before he could even lean in you had arched up on your toes again and pressed your lips to his. This kiss was soft and wanting and sent bolts of electricity through both of you, sending goosebumps rising on your skin that weren’t at all related to your soaked clothes.
You finally broke apart, breathless, and loved that Daryl’s arms were still around you. He seemed unwilling to let you go, and you hoped he never would. You were both all shy smiles for a moment until another shiver ran through you and Daryl felt it beneath his hands. One of his eyebrows immediately quirked down and he broke with you only long enough to collect the towel from the floor and wrap it around you again. His fingers then gently plucked the pressed honeysuckle from the canvas floor and he reached around you to replace it on his improvised nightstand. “Ya should go get some dry clothes on. Can’t have ya getting’ sick.”
Your eyes were still connected with his and you nodded vaguely. “Yeah. But I don’t want to leave,” you said quietly. Daryl chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully.
“Ya ain’t gotta. I got plenty of dry clothes in here. C’mon,” he said, gently tapping his fingers where they were resting on your lower back. “We can both change. I’ll face this way. I won’t look. Promise.”
You smiled widely at his sweetness and nodded in agreement. The idea of cozying up in Daryl’s clothes sounded like the best thing you could imagine at that moment, wrapped in his smell, and safe and warm with him close by.
Soon you were both in dry clothes. Daryl’s eyes drank in the sight of you in his oversized shirt and gulped at the rush of heat pouring outward from his chest. He’d wanted this for so long and now that it was happening it still didn’t feel real. You went and sank down on Daryl’s cot, moving toward the back edge to make room for him, giving him an irresistible and expectant look. The archer sank down beside you, gently putting one of his arms underneath your head and draping the other over your waist, his fingertips lightly tickling your back. You both just couldn’t stop looking at the other, and the sound of the storm outside was the perfect backdrop.
You reached out and rested your palm lightly against his chest, feeling the expansion of his lungs and the steady cadence of his heartbeat. “I’m sorry it too me so long to figure this out,” you said softly.
Daryl only looked back at you with a soft expression. “Don’t be. I woulda waited as long as I had to. You’re worth it.”
You gave him a smile and a look of wonder before kissing him softly again. “So are you.”
#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon twd#the walking dead#twd fanfics#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl imagines#daryl dixon x reader#fanfics#writers of tumblr#twd drabbles#daryl dixon gifs#my gifs
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ＲＥＱＵＥＳＴ:Hey Kid! May I request a platonic Todoroki x pro hero reader? Where she was best friends with Touya and after what happened she always tries to be there for Shota and she always annoys Endeavor (*cough* asshole *cough*). Hope that made sense! Oh and maybe she has an angel type quirk? -🐉
HEY HEY! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH KDSJF i included Dabi a lot more in da bonus,,, hes uhm… really hot.
Ｇｅｎｒｅ：CHAOS/ANGST NEAR THE END
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: some angst if you squint, cursing, reader being a bad bitch to the fire man,
𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘴: she/her
AN: AHHAHAH I SUCK AT HERO NAMES LMAOOOSDJHF S okay so fr i got really into this… and watch me make up things about the hero world… and in this, endeavour has no redemption arc….
-
Readers quirk: Angel Wings
Hero name: Halo
Description: sprouting from just below your shoulder blades come pure white feathery wings, and from tip to tip is 26 feet of pure wing. When you surround someone with your wings you have healing qualities. Your wings can carry you incredibly fast, sometimes faster than hawks if ya try hard enough
Weakness: Alike Hawks, your wings are susceptible to fire.
Italics in between - are flashbacks
-
-
“What was he like?” the hetero chromatic boy besides you asked, eyes wandering into yours.
“He was…” you smiled at him. He's never met him, or really interacted with his own brother, thanks to his father.
“He was really sweet to me Shoto. I think you would’ve loved him.”
“You think so?”
There was a moment of silence, and you reached over to rest your hand on his.
You smiled wide at him, reminiscing over your lost friend.
“I do.”
You sighed over the lost memories, the old ones, and ones you’ll never be able to make. You swung your legs in your stool and bit the inside of your lip.
It hurts to think of him, but he’s okay now.
He's gotta be and you promised him.
You spun in your seat to face Shoto, and to turn your attention to anything else right now.
“Come on, we can get a drink later or soba or something, but we have to be at my agency in twenty.” You jumped off your seat, your shoes landing on the ground with a soft thud.
“Okay.” The boy next to you hopped off his seat as well, and fixed his hero costume. Looking into his left eye reminded you of your best friend, who you lost so long ago.
You tried your best to be side by side with Shoto, knowing how hard Enji was on him.
Not only that, but you promised Toya.
You promised him to stick around, both in life and with his beloved family.
Even if something happened to him.
He promised you the same thing, that if you were to die, he would stick around for the better.
-
“Hey. Can I tell you something?” The red haired boy leaned forward, and swung his legs once or twice. You sat on the roof of your apartment, the one where he slept over on a weekly basis.
The stars were out, the moon reflected off of his blue eyes as he stared at you.
“Yeah, whats up?”
You were only 14 at the time, he was 15. There was nothing between you, just a family kinda love.
“Can you make me a promise? I’ll make the same one back.” He held out his hand, pinky outstretched. It was your thing, you pinky promise before the promise is stated because no matter what,
You guys were sticking together.
You wrapped your pinky around his, and touched the pads of your thumb together.
“I can.”
There was a second of silence, and he stared into your eyes.
“If I die you have to stick around.”
You stared at him, and tears pricked the corner of your eyes. Your wings fluttered and stuck close to you.
“Okay. I promise.” You shakily promised him, and blinked the tears away. You pulled on his hand before he let go and your brows furrowed.
“Be safe, okay Toya? That's all I need you to say right now. Promise me.”
He looked lost for a second, lost in your protection, lost in his own pain, everything.
“I promise.”
-
You walked quickly next to Shoto, talking happily of new soba recipes or shops, your friends, anything that popped up.
There weren’t many boundaries, but Toya was never brought up much.
You fiddled with your necklace charm, the one in the shape of a light blue heart.
“Shoto, how is Midoriya?” you asked him, hoping to change your mind's topic.
Todoroki carried the conversation on his own, until you arrived at your agency. You didn't mind he carried it, it was nice.
“Still breaking hands, hand crusher?” You teased him, and he smiled slightly.
“Not anymore, gladly.”
You laughed with each other as you walked down the halls, waving to sidekicks and heroes who lingered in your agency.
Closer to your office, Shoto had scared himself shitless, turning a corner and he swore he saw something move and he iced the floor, it was fun.
He slid around, squatted slightly, arms out as you flew slightly above the ground.
You giggled at him, rolling around the walls as he struggled.
It was all fun and games.
“Shoto. Halo.” A booming voice echoed through the hall, causing your laughter to cease quickly. You glanced near the sound, already knowing its owner. You narrowed your eyes, and cocked your head to the side and you crossed your arms.
“Endeavour.” You said, your voice monotone.
The red haired male stared at you, his arms crossed and his head tilted up slightly.
“Can we help you?” you asked him, a certain snarl in your voice.
The male looked down upon you as his son steadied himself and stood besides you. He clenched his fists at the sight of his father, the current top hero.
Endeavor said nothing, and you grew frustrated. What does he fucking want?
“Hello?” you waved your hand dangerously close to his face, feeling his flames rise and grow in heat. “Did you fucking hear me?”
Shoto’s eyes widened slightly as he watched his father and your taunting actions.
“If you keep acting like a child, you will never reach me.” His voice boomed, and there was a moment of silence. Shoto turned his head slightly to see you holding in a laugh.
“Father-”
“HAHAHA YOU’RE A GODDAMN IDIOT. YOU THINK I WOULD WANT TO BE LIKE YOU?” you laughed at him, and got closer to his face. Shoto grabbed your hand, but did not hold you back much farther from that.
Being face to face with this man, that took away your best friend from you, caused him pain and trauma and sorrow. And not just him, his whole fucking bloodline.
“You think I would ever want to be like you? You’re the man who took him away from me. My fucking best friend. I would never want to be like you, and I know he wouldn't want to be either.”
You prodded him with your finger, staring into his fiery eyes. His eyes narrowed at the mention of his son, and tightened his arms around his chest. Seeing him made you upset, and anyone could see it.
“So no, if being the number one hero, or fuck, even a top hero, meant being anything like you, then no. I will always choose to never be like you, and anyone with half a goddamn brain cell knows why.”
You pulled away from him, an anger in your stomach and your left hand was made into a fist. The boy besides you tugged on your hand, and you stepped back into line with him.
“So, please Endeavwhore, try me.” Your scowled at him, and he stared. His eyes switched from you to his son to your right. He scoffed and began to turn away.
“Don’t let me down, Shoto.”
His hand clenched around yours, your fingers intertwined.
“Don't worry Sho, you will never be like him.”
You softly tapped his shoulder with yours, and he looked at you. You looked into his eyes, and smirked at him, flashing a wink. You flipped up your middle finger to the fiery males back and stuck your tongue out at him, as Shoto snickered softly.
Endeavor continued walking, his heavy boots echoing down the hall.
I miss you Toya.
-
“Toya, don't continue to be around her.” Endeavor glared at you as he continued.
“She will continue to be a horrible influence, and will never be a top hero.”
Toya’s fists clenched hard, but he shoved them into his pockets to hide his furious action.
“Do you understand me Toya?”
The boy was silent, his eyes with a sharp glare. Your breath hitched in your throat and you began to slowly scooch closer to the boy.
“She’ll always be a better hero than you.”
Toya said as he rolled his eyes and stuck out his middle finger almost directly in his father's face. Your wings spread wide and took off fast, and as you held onto the boy's waist, you heard his father yell over the sound of the wind.
“HAH! FUCKING LOOK AT THAT,THAT BASTARD!” Toya laughed in your arms, his legs swinging over open air. You glanced at where his finger was pointing and saw his father stand in rising flames, and in obvious rage.
You couldn't help but snicker as you warned him.
“Dude, you're gonna get killed! Oh my god, we’re going back to my place.”
-
But, I will protect Shoto with all my power.
-
-
AN: UNDER HERE IS ANGST DUDE HELP AJBHF
BONUS:
An alarm blared through your halls, flashing lights overcoming your senses. Shoto grasped your arm, and began to run. Your wings shook, shuddering to keep up with the sudden action.
“Come on. 17th precinct!”
Shoto ran out of your agency, and you parted ways. Your wings took flight quickly and flew you above the city.
You searched and searched for a sight of chaos, and it only took a moment before your wings acted before your brain could.
You sped off towards a tunnel of smoke, knowing Shoto can meet you there.
Your wings carried you fast and flapped heavily, and you knew you were not fit for this.
You had no choice, and if anything
This is what being a hero is about.
You could die here easily, stripped of your wings, stripped of your and yet here you are.
Because you promised you would keep fighting.
Your wings fluttered as you dropped to the ground, your eyes immediately searching for victims.
There was no one around, just burnt debris and smoke. The smoke filled your lungs, and you struggled to breathe.
Your eyes never ceased to search for victims, high and low left and right,
But you found no one.
You ran into the smoke, shielding your eyes. Eventually, Shoto will find you but for now you must search for others and protect them.
A shadowy figure stalked towards you, barely seen in the thick of the smoke.
“Hey! Are you okay?” you coughed out as loud as you could.
His footsteps were heavy, and a burned coat flew behind him.
“Just fine angel.”
You tensed at the nickname, no one called you that anymore. It was a common nickname, and you were the angel hero.
“Who are you?” You shouted as the figure grew near, more and more, heavy footsteps echoed off burnt and fallen debris.
And there was silence as he stopped walking, the smoke began to clear slowly. You squinted, attempting to see into his figure, searching for any sign of real life in it.
You stood as tall as you could and stretched your wings to the fullest. They were covered in ashes and dirt.
As the smoke cleared you made out his tall lanky figure as much as you could.
His burned jacket flew in the wind, wrapped around his scarred body. His scars were purple and seemed scary, but faintly familiar.
His eyes were a scary blue, but they brought a warmth with the sorrow they seemed to carry.
Your necklace hung against your chest, moving slightly in the wind.
“Still a hero?”
You didn't know what he meant, maybe he’s seen you on T.V. and figured you were a worse version of Hawks.
“Yes, I- Who are you? Can I help? Are you okay?” You asked him, you didn't know if he was okay or not.
It never occurred to you he could be the one beyond it.
“Oh I’m just fine doll!” He raised his scarred hand to the right, and blue flames burst out of it.
“You should be concerned over the destruction hm?”
You stood in shock, the flames, the eyes, the scars.
“Holy shit.” you whimpered to yourself, staring into his turquoise eyes as he smiled at your unmoving figure.
“Holy shit!” You yelled, and began to run towards him.
The smoke hurt your eyes,
But you kept running.
He reached his other hand out, maybe he expected you to stop, to be afraid, but your legs moved before your brain could think.
Your footsteps were quick and light. You avoided burnt debri, and as you grew closer to the male you could make out his features.
Jagged purple scarred half of his face, silver staples decorated the edges of them. His black hair flew in a familiar pattern, and on top of everything,
His blue eyes were even more prominent up close.
You stared into them, brows furrowed in worry, for the destruction, for the civilians, for wherever the hell Shoto is right now.
“Who are you?” you asked again, and raised your hands, your left hand gripping his raised arm, and your right his coat.
He smiled at me again and leaned his head forward.
“Whadda mean, hero?” He said, close enough to your ear to send shivers down your spine.
“Don’t you remember me?”
You opened your mouth to respond to him, but Shoto’s voice began to echo through the debris.
“HALO!” He yelled for you, and you wanted to turn to see him but your eyes were locked onto the black haired male before you.
“Shoto.” you whispered. Your lower lip trembled just a little, and your brows furrowed again.
“Shoto!” You yelled as you began to step back away from the male before you. You stumbled back, and the lanky male grabbed onto the front of your costume, and held you in place.
“HAL-” Shoto’s voice rang through your mine, and your head whipped around to see him, his eyes wide and flames bursting from his side.
“Dabi. Let her go.” He shouted slightly, he was still a bit far. His hair waved in the wind as he moved towards you as fast as he could.
“Hi, Shoto. Nice to see you again. I’m just having fun with my doll, eh?” Dabi smirked at him, as his hand released your costume and you fell back.
You hit the ground hard, and groaned. You stared into the males eyes, switching between his and Shotos left eye.
“Toya.” You whispered to him, lip quivering. He snapped his head to you and smiled wide.
“Hi angel.”
He grasped your throat in his right hand, his hand was hot, overwhelming hot.
“I see you kept your promise.”
His other hand fiddled with your necklace, the one he gave to you so long ago. He stared at it, before switching his eyes to you, and tugging on the chain quickly. The chain broke apart in his grip, and fell apart onto the group.
You were unbothered and delved into your memories of your best friend, the best friend you thought you lost.
“I missed you doll.”
Everything around you began to set itself to flames.
-
AN: might fuck around and write a part 2… has me thinking about yagami yatos dabi
#dabi#dabi x reader#dabi is todoroki touya#dabi is toya#dabi angst#shoto#shoto x reader#shoto todoroki#todoroki x reader#todoroki shoto#todoroki shoto x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#mha x reader#bnha#mha angst#mha#bnha x reader#bnha x reader angst#bnha angst#Platonic mha#platonic shoto#platonic todoroki#platonic todoroki shoto#platonic bnha#platonic bnha x reader#platonic mha x reader
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keepsakes
Also on Ao3
00000
Davey stops and stares, absolutely stunned.
“Jack,” he breathes.
“Hi, Davey,” Jack quietly greets, hands tucked deep into the pockets of his jacket.
“You...” Davey swallows around a sudden lump in his throat, a hand braced against the doorframe in an attempt to steady himself. “What are you doing here?”
“I got the address from Les,” Jack says, rocking a little on his feet. “I’m in town for the week visiting Ma and Charlie, thought I could swing by and see you for a sec.”
“Oh,” Davey says, still trying to process the fact that Jack is here, that Jack’s actually here, standing outside of Davey’s door. His hair’s a touch shorter, his skin a bit tanner, but he’s still Jack.
He’s still Jack.
“So, uh, can I come in?” Jack asks.
“Oh, right.” Davey gives himself a little shake, then takes a step back and holds the door open wider. “Yeah, sure. Please, come in.”
“You moved out of the old place,” Jack comments as his eyes rove around Davey’s modest entry and living room, and his tone is casual but the words are weighted with an unspoken question.
“It was a bit too much for just one person,” Davey says, averting his eyes. “A smaller apartment is easier to keep up with.”
He doesn’t mention that he hadn’t been able to afford the rent for their old apartment by himself, or that even if he had been, all the reminders of their life together, all the hollowed out spaces Jack had left in his wake—the places he used to be but isn’t anymore—would’ve driven him away regardless.
“Can I get you anything?” Davey asks after a brief pause. “Soda or coffee or...?”
“Coffee would be great, actually,” Jack says. “But, uh, only if it won’t put ya out.”
“It’s no trouble,” Davey says. “Here, go ahead and sit down and I’ll fix you a cup.”
He leaves Jack to pull up a stool at the counter while he pulls two mug out of the cabinet, turning on the coffee maker with a quick press of a button.
“So, how have you been?” Davey asks, careful to keep his head down and his voice light as he waits for the coffee to brew. “How’s Santa Fe been treating you?”
“‘S good,” Jack says. “It’s great, it’s got everything: clear skies, gorgeous sunsets. If you go out to the desert at the right time of day the views are unreal. So, uh, life’s pretty good.”
“And work’s going well?”
“Real well,” Jack confirms. “Now that I’ve been there a while they’re startin’ to give me my own projects to work on, which is great. Nerve racking, and I’m constantly terrified that I’m gonna fuck it all up, but great. Honestly, the studio space and the stipend I get for supplies on its own is pretty incredible, let alone all the experience and connections I’m getting too. So, yeah, things are goin’ well.”
“That’s great, Jack,” Davey says, even as his heart gives a painful little lurch. “I’m glad things are working out for you.”
“Couldn’t ask for much more,” Jack responds, and the way he says it is strange—strange enough that Davey risks a glance at his face. But Jack’s expression is flat and impassive, giving nothing away. “How’re you doin’, Davey?”
“Good,” Davey says, turning back to the coffee maker. “I’ve been good.”
“Yeah?” Jack asks. “Anythin’ interestin’ goin’ on?”
“Just the same old, same old,” Davey replies. “Nothing new to tell, honestly.”
“Nothing at all?” Davey can’t tell if Jack sounds disappointed or relieved. “Did you ever end up gettin’ that transfer you wanted?”
“I, uh, rescinded the request after you— after everything,” Davey answers, watching the the coffee bubble and drip, his chest tight. “There wasn’t really a need, and it was easier to just stay at my old branch.”
“Oh,” Jack says.
The silence stretches between them, stiff and heavy and awkward. Instead of coming up with something to fill it, Davey busies himself with serving up their coffee, fixing one mug with his usual creamer, then the other with even more cream and a heaping spoonful of sugar, which he sets gently in front of Jack.
“Here you go,” he murmurs.
Davey takes a small sip of his own coffee, trying to decide what’d be worse: asking Jack another question and having to listen to him talk about how wonderful and perfect his life in Santa Fe has been or just sitting there quietly and trying to pretend like this whole situation isn’t agonizing.
He tries, “So, um, have you had the chance to—”
“What the fuck, Davey?” Jack bites out. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Davey freezes, eyes wide. Jack’s holding his mug in both hands—like he was about to take a drink and got distracted halfway there—and the look on his face is one of absolute fury.
“Why do you still have this?” Jack demands, setting it down so hard that a bit of coffee sloshes over the side. “Why would you keep—?”
Davey looks, and then he realizes. The mug is a simple, sturdy thing, bigger than most of his other ones so he doesn’t have to refill it as often. He’d grabbed it out of habit—it’s always sitting near the front of the cabinet because of how often he uses it, and he honestly hadn’t thought anything of it.
But now he’s seeing what Jack sees: the trellis of flowers that encircle the rim, painstakingly painted by a careful hand in yellows, golds, and blues. Remembers the smell of the clay and the rainbow wall of glaze, remembers the satisfied grin that had turned so sheepish and shy when they returned a few days later to pick up their creations, remembers the flutter in his stomach as he reached out for the surprise gift, remembers the thrill of electricity when their fingers brushed…
Davey swallows.
“Why wouldn’t I keep it,” he says in as even a tone as he can manage. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”
“Oh, so that’s where you draw the line, huh?” Jack says, and his voice his like the rumble before a storm rolls in. “That’s how it is? Knick knacks, keepsakes, sure, those you’ll keep around, but the stuff that’s actually worth having? That’s actually worth fighting for? You can just let all that go without ever sayin’ a fuckin’ word otherwise because who gives a shit—”
And suddenly Davey’s furious too.
“Right, because you were so fucking eager to stay?” he asks with a derisive scoff. “Give me a break, Jack, you couldn’t wait to leave. Just fucked off to the other side of the country and left me here to pick up the pieces—”
“You were all but pushing me out the fucking door!” Jack yells, throwing his hands up. “‘It’s a wonderful opportunity, Jackie,’ ‘You’d be an idiot not to take it, Jackie,’ ‘It’s what you’ve always dreamed of, Jackie!’ What a load of horseshit—”
“Oh, so it’s my fault for being supportive?’ Davey asks, incredulous. “Are you serious?”
“I’m just sayin’, you weren’t exactly bent outta shape at the thought of me leavin’,” Jack says coldly. “Didn’t seem to bother you one fuckin’ bit. Probably relieved to finally have an excuse to get rid of me—”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Davey hisses, stepping forward until they’re standing nearly chest to chest. “I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe, missed you every single goddamn second of the last eight months, don’t think for a moment that I didn’t, you fucking asshole.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jack asks, chin lifted in challenge. “If you missed me so fucking much, then why’d we break up?”
“Because you were moving to Santa Fe!” Davey yells, completely fed up. “You were leaving, Jackie! What else was I supposed to do, except let you go and try my best to be happy for you?”
“If you really wanted me to be happy,” Jack growls, “you would’ve come with me.”
“You didn’t ask me to come with you!”
“And you didn’t ask me to stay!” Jack roars back.
“Ask you to stay? Ask you to stay?” Davey says, a wave of emotion stinging at his eyes, a note of hysteria shredding his voice, something aching and frenzied clawing at his chest. “Of course I didn’t fucking ask you to stay, I was never going to ask you to stay! It was Santa Fe, it was all you ever fucking talked about, it was your dream, Jack! It was everything that you wanted! I would never even suggest that you give that up, God, what kind of shit-ass person do you think I am, that you thought I would ever, ever try to stand between you and Santa Fe when I know how important it is to you—?”
“I’m not fucking hearing this,” Jack says, with a frantic, jerky shake of his head. “I am not fucking hearing this. I— You—“
He rakes a hand haphazardly through his hair, the other pointed accusingly at Davey’s chest, jaw clenched and eyes glittering. His throat works silently for a moment, two moments, then he turns on his heel and storms out, the apartment door slamming behind him with a thunderous bang!
And Jack’s gone, tearing right back out of Davey’s life like he’d never returned in the first place, the abandoned coffee mug the only evidence that he’d ever been there at all.
And Davey’s alone, his heart pounding a lurching, deafening beat in his ears, the churning, curdling, swirling feeling in his gut a perfect mirror to how he’d felt all those months ago, quietly, impossibly heartbroken as he watched Jack walk away.
Davey takes a shivering, shuddering breath, scrubbing a trembling hand across his mouth. Fuck.
He might’ve been standing there for thirty seconds or thirty minutes when the front door swings open again. Davey’s head whips up just in time to see Jack step inside, closing the door behind him with a soft, purposeful click. Then he can only watch as Jack stalks forward, eyes blazing, fists his hands in the front of Davey’s shirt, and drags him into a bruising, desperate kiss.
“I love you,” Jack says. “I love you. I loved you before I got the job offer, I loved you while I was searching for apartments and planning the move, I loved you every time I talked up Santa Fe to you, tryin’ to convince you to come with me any way I could think of. I loved you when we broke up, I loved you when I left, I loved you when I landed, and it’s been eight fucking months and I’m still so fucking in love with you—”
Davey interrupts him with another heart stopping kiss, threading his fingers in Jack’s hair as he pulls him closer. They still fit together so perfectly, lips and teeth and tongues all moving together like they’d never been parted, and its so good that Davey could almost cry with it because he’d never thought he would have this again.
“I love you too, Jackie,” Davey promises. “I love you and I’ve missed you so much—”
“I missed you,” Jack says, punctuating the declaration with another kiss. “You’re it for me Davey. There’s just you. And I… I can’t give this up again. Santa Fe ain’t worth nothin’ if you’re not there with me.”
“I thought that was what you wanted,” Davey murmurs, and its a confession and an apology. “I thought I had to let you go.”
Jack shakes his head.
“I wanted you to keep me,” he whispers against Davey’s lips. “And I wanted to keep you too.”
“Then keep me,” Davey says. He realizes now, that it’s as simple as that. “Keep me.”
00000
Jack’s pov here
Tag List!: @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @corbinthecowboy @stroopwafeldetective
#newsies#javid#jack kelly#davey jacobs#*editor's note#*the writing desk#*final cut#this was originally supposed to be a LCTTC prompt fill...#¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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What She Deserves
From the prompts “Have you lost your damn mind!?” and “Please, don’t leave.” From @sophie-herondale.
Sooo, this went longer than expected and as it is more than a couple hundred words, there is some angst, but happy ending!
Uh… this fic includes Jason and Constantine so…. There’s a bit of swearing.
“Have you lost your damn mind!? What the hell was that?” Jason demanded pulling Marinette’s arm back to stop her from walking away and force her to look at him.
When she finally looked back into his eyes, her eyes ripped into him. He squared his shoulders and set his expression waiting for her to lash out at him. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Red.” She spat out the nickname like an insult. “Which ‘that’ are you referring to exactly? The agreeing to hang out with you? The getting ignored all night? The not getting nearly drunk enough? The talking to people who actually showed an interest in me? The trying to make friends? The dancing with friends? Which one? There are so many ‘thats’ from tonight, I don’t know which one you mean.” She stalked closer to him with each sentence, but since he refused to back away as she did, she was now flush against him, looking almost straight up to glare at him.
“I meant taking John fucking Constantine’s goddamned phone number. Which is probably literally goddamned, by the way.”
“You have a problem with John? You seemed to be fine with him a little bit ago. You had no problem with him when you invited him tonight. What changed?” She snapped at him.
He stepped back to give himself some space. It was hard to think when she was so close to him. He couldn’t form coherent thoughts when he could feel her pressed against him. “Well for one thing, he’s old enough to be your dad…”
“You’ve slept with older…”
“…second, he’s totally morally questionable…”
“So is everyone else you know.”
“…third, he can’t be trusted…”
“That’s the same as the second.”
“…fourth, he’s an asshole…”
“Name someone you hang out with that isn’t.”
“…fifth, he smokes…”
“… so was almost everyone else in that room…”
“sixth… sixth? Yeah, sixth, he is drinks his weight in alcohol…”
“You really want to throw that particular stone?”
“…seventh, he is unrepentantly violent…”
“Oh, you really do want to go there.”
“eighth, he is nowhere near good enough for you.”
Anger flared in her eyes. She stepped closer again to jab her finger into his chest. “You don’t get to decide that. I decide that. And I decide that someone who pays attention to me and is concerned about me is good enough for me.”
“He isn’t.” He growled back.
“Oh? And who is?” she demanded, throwing her arms out. “Tell me, who should I be talking to, oh Wise One, oh Knower of Others’ Worth. Who do I deserve to be with?”
He stared at her for a few moments, mind racing to come up with an answer to that question. Who was good enough? Who would he approve of? “Nobody,” he whispered out looking at her earnestly.
She looked at him in shock. Her face quickly shifted to hurt, then morphed into a carefully constructed blank expression. “Good to know. Thank you.” She said unemotionally, as though he had just told her the weather. She turned around quickly and moved down the street as quickly as she could without actually running.
He watched her leave wondering what caused the shift in mood. Was she really that appalled by the idea of him thinking that highly of her, of his opinion of her? Was he that reprehensible that a good opinion from him was a red mark on her? She was probably right, but it still hurt to know she believed it too.
“That was a sight to behold, mate.” John said as he lit his cigarette behind him.
Jason whipped around to face him. “You should be ashamed, you fucking pedophile.”
“I’m not going to argue with the rest of what you said about me, but she’s over 18. So legally, it isn’t pedophilia.” He stared unimpressed as Jason growled at him and pushed him against the wall, pushing his forearm into his throat to keep him there. “It’s just creepy as fucking hell and disgusting. She’s young enough, technically, she could be my granddaughter. I’d rather skin my arm with a dull knife.”
Jason eased up on his hold, confused about the change in attitude. “I didn’t give her my number to shag. She has some information I want. I have information she wants. We’re going to meet up tomorrow and exchange information. Magical information.”
“You were dancing with her,” Jason narrowed his eyes at him.
“She wanted to dance and nobody else was volunteering to dance with her. Actually, nobody else seemed to want to be around her, almost like they were afraid of upsetting someone if they got too close.”
“You don’t dance.”
“She was sad.” He shrugged. “Apparently, she was getting ignored by some twat and she needed someone to be nice, platonically. My hands never wandered from her hands. She needed someone to confirm she wasn’t the wanker, he was. More specifically, the wanker that just told her she deserved to be alone.” He looked at Jason pointedly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an appointment tomorrow and I’d like to get pass out drunk with enough time to get some sleep before that.”
He easily pushed a stunned Jason off of him. Jason stared at a point on the wall. That isn’t what he had said was it? He replayed what he had said again. He said nobody deserves her. She asked who she deserved to be with and he said nobody, because nobody was good enough to deserve her. Mother fucking FUCK. He hadn’t added that last part.
He raced down the street in the direction she had gone. He needed to find her. He needed to fix it. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was. This is exactly the kind of thing that proved he didn’t deserve her. She had to know that. She had to know she was better than him and his friends. He finally caught up with her a block away from her apartment.
“Marinette, stop!” He yelled to her as he ran.
She continued walking, the only indication she had heard him was a slight stutter in her step and an increased pace. He moved in front of her and held his hands up in a placating gesture, trying to catch his breath from having run for blocks to catch up to her. “Wait, please.”
“You’ve said enough tonight, don’t you think?” She said coldly.
“No,” he begged. He looked down at her face and the sight broke his heart. She had wiped away the tear tracks, but she couldn’t hide the red that lined her eyes and branched out throughout her eyes. He had done this. He made her cry. He silently cursed himself. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it.”
“It’s fine Jason. Don’t worry about it. I just want to go to bed.” She said tiredly, refusing to look in his eyes. She moved to get past him again. He backed up so he wasn’t preventing her from walking, but was still in front of her. He wanted her to understand but he was not willing to make her even more uncomfortable.
“Please, don’t leave. Please listen.” He begged her, but she kept walking forward. He moved out of her way and allowed her to continue. He clenched his fists and let out a frustrated breath. He looked up to her retreating back and tried one last time. “I meant nobody deserves someone as amazing as you.” He called after her. “I meant you are too incredible for anyone I know. I meant… I meant you are brilliant and kind and talented and hilarious and strong and sassy and everything that is good in this world. I meant… I meant you deserve better.”
Sometime during his speech she had turned to look at him, her mouth opening slightly, forming an ‘oh’. She blinked a few times and looked down to gather her thoughts. When she looked back up at him her eyes had softened. “That sounds awfully lonely, up on that pedestal all on my own. I don’t want to be up there by myself. I don’t want to be up there at all.”
“Sorry, Pixie, but to me you are perfect. You always will be. So even if you’re a monster in the mornings and you can’t say no to anything to the point that you overload yourself into anxiety attacks and you like horrible TV shows and three drinks has you falling over drunk and you have terrible taste in who you let get close to you, you will still always be perfect to me.” His voice grew gentle as he spoke. He moved closer to her as he spoke until he was close enough to brush a strand of hair behind her ear and cup her cheek.
She reached up to lay her hand on his and looked at him eyes shining with tears again. “Why have you been avoiding me? Why didn’t you speak to me all night? All week?”
“Because you deserve better than me. I was trying to back away so you could find someone who deserves you. Someone smart, like you. Someone with a kind heart, like you. Someone who would give their shirt to help someone else, like you. Someone who makes you smile, like you make everyone around you smile. Someone who makes you unabashedly, breathlessly, wildly, happy …”
“Like you,” she cut in before he could finish, tears spilling over again. “That describes you.” She reached up to twist her hands around the back of his head and pull him down to her lips. She put all her passion and love into her kiss, kissing him desperately, hungrily. He wound his hands around her hips and pulled her closer to him, pressing her body to his as he fiercely returned her kiss.
They pulled away when they could no longer go without air. He pressed his forehead to hers and shook his head gently. “I don’t deserve you.”
“I decide what I deserve and although I don’t think I’m good enough for you, I want to believe I deserve to be happy. And you make me happy.” He shook his head vehemently. She cupped his face to slow his motions and spoke before he could deny it. “I don’t want to argue about that tonight. I don’t want to debate worth and mistakes tonight. Tonight I want to kiss you.” She leaned up to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “Tonight I want to be close to you…” she moved her hand to the back of his neck to play with his hair. “… and snuggle up with you while we watch television. Because I have amazing taste in shows.” She grinned up at him.
He chuckled and shook his head, “You really don’t.” He gave her a gentle smile and caressed her cheek. “But, I’d endure worse for you.”
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