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beybaldes · 6 months

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when you know, you know

masterlist

Sejanus plinth x gn!reader

summary: In the time he’d so far spent in district twelve, nothing had warmed his heart like you.

warnings: no use of y/n, peacekeeper Sejanus I don’t really think that’s a warning tho, talk of a future together, kids?? but not said how the kids come to be, fluff galore!!

Sejanus turned onto his side, one hand propped underneath his head so he could look down at you while the other moved to cup your cheek. Now his face was all you could see, it blocking out the setting sun as he leaned over you. He once told you he used to have long, dark curls before he became a peacekeeper and it’s now more than ever you wish he still had them. Maybe he’d have them by next spring, if you were lucky.

Leaning even closer to you, Sejanus brushed his lips against yours in the briefest of kisses, something so short as to not satiate you. Before he could move too far away from you, you placed a hand on either side of his face, pulling him down to connect his lips to yours once more in something slow and easy. Something tender and soft that cured your yearning and had heat rising to your cheeks that wasn’t from the burning sun of late summer. Sejanus Plinth was gentle in every aspect of his being, it was one of the many things that made it so easy to fall in love with him. When he initially tried to pull away from the kiss, you chased after him, wrapping your arm across the wide expanse of his shoulders and pulling him back down to you, reconnecting your lips before he had the chance to stop you. One hand began to make its way into his hair while the other moved up and along his chest, fisting the white undershirt of his peacekeeper uniform tightly between your fingers as though he was going to disappear without your touch.

“Wait.” Another kiss. “Wait, seriously.” Another kiss, but this time Sejanus actually pulled himself away from you, moving his hand so that he pinched your chin between his fingers, his thumb coming to rest against your bottom lip, effectively stopping you from kissing him again. “Just, wait.” A laugh bubbles from Sejanus’s chest as he looks down at the frown that pulled on your lips. However, he doesn’t say anything, instead just looking at you, his eyes tracing over every single inch of your face, his smile getter wider and wider with every second more he spends like this.

In truth, he’d had something to say, but over the past month, Sejanus found that when he started to look at you he couldn’t tear his eyes away, wanting to memorise the placement of every single freckle and wrinkle that adorned your skin. Usually, when he found himself looking at you it was from across the hob, or at the least when you weren’t looking at him. But right now, with you laying still between his arms, you were looking right back at him, and he was absolutely entranced.

“When I was living in the Capitol, I never thought I’d ever have anything like this, anything like you.” His thumb ran along the curve of your smile lines then soothed down your jaw, where he pressed a brief kiss. “A part of me still can’t believe that this is the life I get to live.”

“This life? Here? In twelve?” You questioned, unsure how he could be so fond of the poorest of districts when he’d spent so many years in the luxury living of the Capitol. While you knew he’d spent the first 8 years of his life in district 2, it was one of the better off districts, nothing like the poverty and plainness of district 12.

Sejanus tilted his head in confusion, eyes slightly pointed as he took in your words. Of course he liked being in twelve, how could he not? Twelve had reminded him of home in district two, except… better. His thumb continued to sooth over your jaw as the fondest of smiles pulled at his lips. “You’re here, in twelve.” He mused, a far off look in his eyes as he dreamt of a future between the two of you: a wedding in late spring in the meadow by the creek, he’d invite his mother, see if she could pull some strings to get herself here, he’d move out of the barracks and in with you in the little house by the edge of the seam, he’d teach you how to bake all the foods he loved from district two, sooner or later he’d finish his service and maybe then you’d really settle down in twelve, or even two, maybe with a little baby to keep you both company. Sejanus could picture every single second of the next 30 years of his life and he couldn’t wait. “Why would I want to be anywhere else?”

“I love you.” You whispered, the hand you’d had in Sejanus’s hair moving down his face to cup his jaw, your thumb running across the apple of his cheek. Sejanus couldn’t remember the last time someone had told him that they loved him, and he was excited to hear it more often. Just in case though, he memorised the way it rolled off your tongue, the sound of each vowel and constant as it came from your lips. He could get used to this life to a dangerous degree. “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen Sejanus Plinth. Both inside and out.”

Sejanus moved his gaze downwards, hoping that it’d hide the flush that rose to his face at your words. However, when the blush refused to cease, he took to burrowing his face in the crook of your neck, laying against you but doing his best not to put his full weight on you. He pressed a kiss against your collar bone and then neck as he settled himself in, revelling in the feeling of your skin against his. In the time he’d so far spent in district twelve, nothing had warmed his heart like you, not even the hot dreads of summer or the crammed bunk full of people, and he hoped nothing else ever would. He shuffled his face against your neck so he could press a kiss to its crest, just below your ear, a smile pulling on his lips at the way it made you squirm. “I love you too.”

an: thank you for reading!! <33

tag list: @celestialstar111

#beybaldes wrote a fic!!#sejanus plinth oneshot #sejanus plinth imagine #sejanus plinth x reader #tbosbas x reader

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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year

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Stay the Night

here’s some old-school Bucky in Wakanda smut. I didn’t think I’d publish Bucky stuff here, yet here we are. Hope you enjoy x

18+, smut, fluff. It's just you and Bucky in Wakanda while the team is away. He tends to his flock, you wish he tended to you.

“Today is the literal meaning of ‘hotter than Hades’,” you announced as you collapsed less than gracefully on a broken tree log as Bucky Barnes shot you a look over his shoulder, sweat protruding from every pore in his tanned, muscular form, a tendril of long, dark hair falling into his glassy blue eyes from the loose ponytail behind his head.

Jesus, a man should never look that damn good, you thought, fanning yourself with your shirt, the material sticking to your drenched skin. Thank god the heat hid your blush.

“Bored?” he asked, scooping up a hay bail and loosening it for the goats he tended to munch on.

“Radio silence,” you replied. “I kind of feel like I’m in the way of the locals when I can’t contact the team. I haven’t heard from Nat, Sam or Steve in a few days. I am pretty useless at times like this.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky said, pointing at the water bottle you had parked beside you. “You brought water. I assume that’s why you’re out here in the midday sun,” he teased as you tossed it to him and he caught it easily with his right hand, twisting the cap off and guzzling the cool refreshment.

Every movement was pure sex, you sighed quietly as his throat bobbed, water falling from the creases of his lips and down his chin. Life seemed much fairer before Bucky Barnes.

“Thanks, Buck,” you rolled your eyes as he finished the bottle easily, crushing it in his palm and laughing at you, walking back to hand it to you.

“No, no,” he nudged your boot with his. “Thank you,” he went back to stacking and distributing hay as you said a quiet goodbye and told him you’d see him later.

You hated when the team was away.

While you’d made some friends in Wakanda, you were still finding your way and mostly felt in the way of working alongside the Wakandan defence and communications teams. They used a lot more sophisticated tech than Stark had ever provided you and you’d never admit it out loud, the tech was somewhat confusing at times, thanks to its gross advancement over what you were used to.

You’d always be thankful for T’Challa and his family for taking you into the palace grounds, a necessity, T’Challa explained. It was beyond amazing and his lovely mother, Ramonda, fussed over you to ensure you were comfortable at all times. It was nice to feel so welcome, but so lonely without your family.

Steve, Nat and Sam had left days ago. Wanda and Vis were off the radar (lie, you knew they were having some kind of rendezvous in Europe and had no intentions of interrupting whatever was or had developed between them).

That left Bucky.

After he’d been woken from cryo, Shuri had run every test known to man on him to assist in the removal of the trigger words, he’d gratefully taken up residence away from the hustle and bustle of the wondrous city and hauled his ass out to the farmlands, simply requesting the peace, privacy and quiet. For the first time in over 100 years, he was able to be his own man without fear of retribution. Sure, the dark memories flickered occasionally, but the words would never hurt him again.

He enjoyed the serenity in the sounds of nature, with the exception of an iPod that Sam had gifted to get him up to speed on more modern music than the 1940’s bops Bucky was more accustomed to –

You sighed, hearing the knock at the door, interrupting the reverie of mindless TV. It was late, too late for guests. After dinner, you’d showered and retired to your PJ’s – your threadbare, well-worn Yankees shirt (your first souvenir of New York City when SHIELD moved you there years earlier regardless of your disinterest in baseball) and loose PJ pants. “Coming,” you replied, pushing yourself up to open the door, surprised to see Bucky on the other side - cleaned up, void of sweat and dust in lazy sweat pants and a white t-shirt. A casual Bucky Barnes. This new development was not helping your crush. Not in the slightest. “Hey. You lost?” you teased lightly.

He showed you a bottle of Glenfidditch and you chuckled a little, moving from the way to let him in. Closing the door behind him, you leaned back against it, a little confused about his visit as Bucky simply didn’t visit anyone aside from Steve or Shuri. You only visited Bucky occasionally to make sure he wasn’t segregating himself, but he did usually prefer his own company when Steve wasn’t around.

“Got ice?” he asked, going to the kitchenette for a couple of tumblers.

“I don’t actually – if I’m going to drink aged whiskey, I’ll be doing it properly.”

“Ooh,” Bucky cooed, a small grin growing on his lips. “A woman after my own heart.”

“Blame Steve – a few years back when we all moved to the Tower… fuck, just after Ultron maybe? Steve brought out a bottle of this stuff and I’ve been a convert ever since. He said you guys would destroy bottles together.”

“Well, he did. I would drink responsibly though I didn’t know at the time I could put them back as well as Steve could with the serum running through my veins,” he said, bringing the glasses to the coffee table, cracking the top and pouring you each a glass. “Are you gonna join me or hang out by the door?”

“Sorry,” your face flushed as you skittered over and sat at the other end of the couch. He handed you a glass and gave you gentle ‘cheers’ before you sat in silence for a while, enjoying the smooth amber liquid. “…Bucky, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I dunno – you seemed a bit forlorn today. Thought I’d try and be a friend,” he shrugged. “You’ve been pretty accommodating to me since we got here. I guess I could repay the favour even if you’re only checking in on me for Steve. And you’ve got air conditioning,” he tossed in the joke to try and lighten the mood.

“Steve didn’t ask me to keep tabs on you,” you admitted.

“Oh,” Bucky said, sipping his whiskey and easing back on the couch. “Do you like it out here?”

You chewed your lip, dropping your eyes to the glass. “I mean, it’s a hellova lot better than being shipped out to The Raft,” you admitted as he stifled a chuckle.

“True.”

“If I’m going to be on the run for associating with the team, it might as well be in one of the most securest places on the planet.”

“You chose well,” Bucky agreed.

“Would have been stupid for me not to take it. I owe T’Challa, and Steve, a lot.”

“They’re good men.”

“Absolutely.”

Silence overtook the room again though there was no discomfort with it.

“Thanks for havin’ a drink with me,” Bucky said as he polished off his glass. “It’s getting late,” he got to his feet.

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Okay.”

“I don’t want to impose,” he said with a gentle shrug, collecting his tumbler.

“You’re not imposing. It’s nice to have the company, to be honest,” you confessed.

“'Nother glass then?”

“Definitely,” you said, hoping not to appear too eager. Bucky gave a small nod and poured again.

“I know I’m not much of a talker,” he told you as you sat and cradled your glass close to your chest.

“I just enjoy the company regardless of noise levels,” you shrugged. “It’s different when the team is here, but when they aren’t…”

“When they aren’t?” he pressed.

“I have too much time with my thoughts.”

He raised a glass. “I hear that.”

Your glass joined his. “Why are you in the farmlands then and not in the palace?”

He nodded slowly as you hoped you hadn’t overstepped the mark. Blame the first glass of booze – less than tipsy you would never ask such a question. “Just tryin’ to earn my keep – least I can do since T’Challa is harbouring an international war criminal, assassin, murderer – ”

You gave a gentle laugh. “He’s not harbouring you.”

“Protecting me then,” Bucky corrected himself.

“Maybe protecting you,” you admitted, agreeing.

You both continued a polite conversation, mostly about Steve and the team before you both started dozing at your respective ends of the couch. “I should really head out now,” Bucky said.

“Stay, it’s a million degrees out there.”

He gave you an incredulous look that told you he knew what you were saying, but staying was still a terrible idea. Suddenly overwhelmed, you realised it completely sounded like a blatant invite for sex. It wasn’t, you thought. Was it?

Trying telling your libido that.

“If you stay on your side of the bed, Bucky, and I stay on mine, we won’t have any issues,” you try to regain your composure.

“Are you completely sure?” he looked about as convinced as you thought you were.

“My God, it’s sleep,” you told him. “I would never deny you, of all people, Bucky, sleep.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Okay. Thank you.”

“It’s far too hot to stay out there overnight. Enjoy a night’s sleep in the air con,” you joked. “If you enjoy sleeping in comfy climates, hey, you might even move in here.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Here?”

You blinked a few times, not catching his tease. “Yeah, like here, the palace.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

“Oh, you thought in here. With me,” you barked a laugh, getting off the couch and heading for the bed, Bucky following a safe distance away. You stifled your discomfort with snark, “Oh, darling,” you leaned forward to cup Bucky’s stubbly chin. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

“Oh darlin’, don’t fall for me so quickly. It’ll only end in heartbreak,” he mocked in return. You laughed incredulously, thinking to yourself, ‘too fuckin’ late, buddy’ and moving to your side of the King bed and pulling the pillows towards yourself.

“If you’re truly concerned, here. Build a pillow wall with me. Put that hay bailin’ practice to good use.”

He sighed with a gentle smile, he was thoroughly enjoying this cheeky banter you’d suddenly worked into your conversation and helped you build the Great Wall of pillows.

“Perfect,” you said, fixing the last pillow in place.

“That is an impressive pillow wall,” Bucky concluded, stifling a laugh. “Failsafe.”

“Make yourself comfy,” you told him, laying back as he pulled off his soft cotton t-shirt and folded it, placing it neatly on the bedside table next to him, a habit he’d picked up in military training in the 40s and never really lost it, no matter what control he was under, you imagined.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he told you. “It is a lot nicer inside than out.”

“Told you,” you replied with a chuckle, raising a fist to him over the wall.

“What is that?” he chucked.

“My knuckles? You’ve never knocked ‘knuckles’ with someone? A fist bump?”

He laughed louder. “No, I’ve never fist-bumped.”

“Then hit my knuckles with yours,” you instructed as Bucky did as he was told. Still confused for a second, his hand met yours gently before opening and clutching your wrist in his warm, rough-skinned hand and bringing your open hand to his lips. The rules of the pillow wall were suddenly crumbling before you. Destroyed so easily.

“You need to behave,” you told him, suddenly very nervous.

“I’m finding it so hard. We’re here and I know it’s not just me that is feeling this, sugar,” he continued kissing to your wrist and moving towards your inner elbow as he got to his knees. Your body betrayed you as goose pimples shot up and down your spine and you found yourself sitting up opposite him. “All I wanna do is compromise this pillow wall.”

You could cut the tension in the cool room with a knife as your eyes burned into his. Chewing his lip, he made no secret of his intentions as he licked his mouth and walloped the pillow wall away.

Suddenly there was no divide and you were looking at each like they were your last meals. “Can I kiss you?” he asked shyly.

“If you don’t, I’m going to kiss you,” you retorted as he skimmed across the sheets to you and pulled your body flush to his. He sunk his fingers into your hair and pulled your face to his, leaving a small kiss on your waiting lips.

“Is that okay?” he asked, almost afraid.

“More,” you demanded as a reply. There was nothing forgiving about it – you were suddenly craving him – his mouth, his touch, his body, his scent and he was surrounding you in a way no other person had before.

He moved back a little. “One minute – I gotta explain…” he breathed gently. “This is kind of my first time being intimate in a long time. I know this,” he looked at his left shoulder, ashamed. “I know it’s not sexy. And if you don’t want to be with me because of it - ”

You grasped his face in your hands, forcing his eyes to meet yours and kissed him lightly. “Believe me when I say I do not care, Bucky. I know you do but I need you to know, this changes nothing for me.”

“I’ve imagined this so many times with you, pleasing you and now we’re here, I just…” his soft Brooklyn accent rumbled. “I just imagined it as me. The old me.”

Your head spun – he felt the same way? Jesus Christ, assassin school taught him surely how to fool you into believing he barely knew you existed.

“Well, I only know this, Bucky – I’m pretty crazy about you.”

His eyes flickered. Maybe it was emotion, you weren’t sure.

“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

This time, he blushed.

“So maybe, you should just lay back,” you said, helping guide him to do so, his head settling amongst the remains of the disastrous pillow wall and you kissed him, he moaned just loud enough to hear. “And we have a good time, okay?”

He nodded, nervously. “Okay.”

“Now, relax,” you said, unsure where your confidence was coming from but you knew he needed you to lead him and you were going to treat him right. He deserved this – you, and all of you. All for him.

You ungracefully tossed the sheets from the bed, they’d just be getting in the way and crawled towards Bucky’s feet, grabbing the loose elasticised ankles and pulling at them, the sweats he wore drawn from his slender hips, descending his powerful thighs and calves before you disregarded them all together, leaving him solely in boxer briefs. Calvin Klein, how so very rude.

And dear, if your mouth didn’t water at the surprise he poorly hid in them.

Kissing his ankle and working your lips up the inside of his legs, tickling behind his knee, he shuddered. He shuddered hard. “Fuck,” he muttered. You smiled against his skin, lips moving again, your hands massaging his powerful thighs. Stopping at his waist, you crept onto his lap and pulled away your shirt. Bucky sighed, his hand reaching out to touch you. You leaned closer to him as his arm skirted around you, pulling your body flush to his to kiss you, your tongue tracing his full lips as he enthusiastically opened his mouth for your tongues to meet. His hand scalded your skin as he groped at you lightly, cascaded your side and tangled into your hair, deepening the kiss as his hips started to move beneath your body, his cock needing the friction.

You paused and raised a finger to him. He raised a confused eyebrow as you scampered off him to lose your sweats, no panties underneath. You didn’t let him get a good, long look at you before you moved to rid him of his boxers, hard cock free and you gave him a few encouraging pumps, his eyes rolling back. “Sweet Jesus,” he begged for mercy. “Please.”

“Please?” you raised a teasing eyebrow and sat on your knees between his muscular thighs. He was asking you to go down on him. You’d never felt so willing before to please a man as you were for to do for Bucky.

“Please,” he tried again as you could see this man didn’t need to be teased, he just needed to be wanted. Adored. Loved.

“Okay. Okay, now you sit back, Barnes. And you let me take care of the rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he tucked his arm behind his head, licking his lips as you took him in your palms before an encouraging kiss to the head and taking him into your mouth. “Dear God,” he managed to say through groans. His hand found your hair again, pushing your hair from your face to see what he thought was the most beautiful mouth he’d ever seen work over his body. “Baby, that is so good. So hot,” he encouraged, clutching roughly but not enough to hurt, just enough to spur you on. You continued your ministrations for a few minutes more before he guided you away from him, gasping. “Baby, stop. I’ll come.”

You blinked at him. “That’s okay,” you promised. “I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

He grinned at you. “I’m sure you can. But I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he admitted shyly.

“Oh,” you gave a gentle nod. “I thought I was doing something wrong.”

He shook his head, alarmed. “God, no. You were a little too good at what you were doing,” he reassured you. “Get up here,” he pulled you to his face to meet him for a lingering kiss. “You could kill a man with that mouth.”

“I doubt that,” you got suddenly shy, burying your blushing face in his neck as he guided your face back to his.

“Don’t get bashful now, sweetheart,” he gazed at you like you were about the best damn thing he’d ever seen. You didn’t know how or why, but the look turned you on more than any act prior to right then. You just wanted to make him happy, release him, and feel him come apart under your hands. “I have an admission to make, and fuck, I hope this doesn’t come across as shitty…” he said quietly.

“What’s that?” you asked, suddenly feeling very exposed regardless of you lack of clothing.

“Uhh… I don’t know, logistically, how I make this work without you on toppa me, baby. I’m sorry, I don’t want to crush you if something goes wrong,” he looked as though he wanted the bed to eat him whole.

And why, you don’t know. But his admission gave you the confidence you didn’t expect. “Is this you suggesting I ride you?” you gave a small giggle as he chewed his lip.

“Lil’ bit, yeah. I know that sounds so goddamn selfish – ”

“Giving me the power over you makes you selfish?”

“Well, it takes away a fair amount of effort,” he reasoned. “And you know, I wanna show you what I can do…” his voice trailed off, timidly.

And suddenly you understood. This wasn’t just about a missing limb – this was the pain and terror from all those years ago. The raw, never-ending trauma of Bucky’s initial testing, falling from the train in the Alps. Losing his arm seemed so minute in all of it. Years of physical and mental abuse, and psychological torment at the hands of HYDRA, of the Soviets, whoever was the highest bidder for The Winter Soldier.

This was touch, connection, feeling wanted and adored – oh, how needed to Bucky understand how much you wanted to be the person to help him.

You tutted him and inhaled, gently cupping his cheek, choosing compassion. “Relax, handsome, lay back and enjoy,” you instructed as he nodded slightly and wrapped his scorching hand around your ribs. It was such a simple act, but it turned you on so much. It felt possessive, wanted. “I want to make you feel so fucking good – will you let me?”

You don’t know why you asked, but you knew you needed to hear him tell you he wanted this too. “Yes,” he nodded shyly. “Hell yes.”

“Okay,” you leaned down to kiss him, reached between your bodies and in your warm hands, adjusted your body on his. Viewing Bucky as he felt you sheath your body around his was as good as it could ever get – his plumb lips drawn into his gleaming white teeth, his bright blue eyes hidden behind his long lashes. Giving him some time to adjust, just like you were to his size encouraged you as he lightly raised his hips in hopes for you to move. “You good?” you asked again.

“Better than, amazing,” he told you, gripping your hip and your body slowly started to move above him. “Jesus Christ,” he uttered, raising his eyes to look at you.

Taking his hand and linking your fingers as you relaxed and stopped trying to ensure his good time (it appeared ensured) and sinking into feeling so good yourself, you moved your hips more, craving Bucky deeper, hoping to find that elusive little spot to make you explode.

“Touch yourself?” he pleaded quietly. “Please, sugar?”

Appeasing him happily, he watched your free hand creep down your body and open yourself up to where your bodies met, your fingers putting on a show as you toyed with yourself just for his dark, lust-filled eyes. Your body tightened under the pressure and Bucky’s pleasured grunts and curses was certainly on the rise. His hand relinquished yours as he clutched onto your ass, forcing you rougher into him, his tempo speeding up and urging you to do the same from the friction his body caused yours.

“God, you feel so good. So wet, so warm,” he muttered, his breathing deepening as his hips haphazardly fired into you. “Are you close?” he asked desperately. You were, you so fucking were, you realised, his simple question bringing you even closer. You nodded as you pressed harder against your clit, desperate for your own release and of course, his.

He needs this, you reminded yourself. You needed this. “Fuck, yes,” you replied as he used his abs to sit up, suddenly so much deeper into you as you looked at each other face to face, chest to chest and Bucky kissed you. He kissed you with those beautiful lips and a tongue that knew exactly how you wanted to be kissed as he moaned into your mouth. He wrapped his arm around your waist and took a nipple into your mouth as you started to come – that was the move, the special way to push you over the edge. Realising this, Bucky grinned and looked at you, using those pearly whites to chew lightly and you were coming. Coming so hard that you felt like you might have seen stars as he let out a litany of curses and came hard too.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Bucky breathed, chest heaving as he rolled onto his back, taking your body down with him, keeping you wrapped in his embrace and softening inside you. Bucky Barnes liked to cuddle, you realised.

“Holy shit,” you managed to say as you tried to settle your breathing. “That was fantastic.”

“Really?” he asked bashfully. He looked you in the eye and begged you weren’t lying to him. You nodded and tenderly kissed him. “Good,” he gave a small, shy smile and suddenly appeared so boyish. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have the thank me,” you told him. “Trust me, I’m just glad you stayed.”

“Fuck, me too,” he laughed. “Me too.”

Hearing your phone beep, you shot up through the heaviness across your chest and halted you. Bucky’s body subdued you – the body heat he exhumed was hot and stifling. He groaned, pulling you back down to him.

“They’ll call back,” he muttered. “Sleep.”

“It’s the team,” you whispered back. He breathed heavily, reaching out for the phone for you reluctantly and putting it in your hands. Relief washed through you. The team, including Wanda and Vis, were returning to Wakanda imminently. “Did you sleep okay?”

Yawning, Bucky slightly freed you from his grasp. “You weren’t wrong about sleeping comfortably – I mean, I don’t deserve to, but it was the most relaxing sleep I’ve had in years.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Bucky. Truly.”

He soothingly kissed your naked shoulder. “Thank you for last night.”

“I just hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“So much,” he breathed against your skin, rolling you to your back and lightly pining your body under his. You loved the feel of his weight on your body. You would come to crave it. Addicted and all in less than 12 hours. You’d fallen so hard, so fast. “Did you?”

“Yes,” you couldn’t lie. Bucky’s body was made for a multitude of sins and loving on a woman? The top. He kissed each eyelid that fluttered closed under his touch, the tip of your nose, his mouth travelling through your throat to your décolletage. “Behave…” you teased, your fingers lacing into his long, dark, loose waves.

He laughed into your skin. “Okay,” he nudged your knees apart, his hips meeting yours. He felt as if he was flying – he’d never imagined the confidence he felt, that you’d given to him. Or how you could have destroyed it by rejecting him. The power you had over him was stifling. That was a hellova lot scarier than what was to eventually come.

“What did I say?”

“You told me to behave.”

“And what did you do?”

“The exact opposite,” he admitted. “I just can’t seem to keep my mitts offa you. You’ve opened the floodgates, sugar. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again.”

Your phone beeping incessantly now, you found yourself in a world where only you and Bucky ceased to exist. The rest of the world could wait another hour.

#make me regret posting this 😬#bucky with the good hair #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky angst #white wolf #notroosterbradshaw #reposting from another life #if this bombs I’m deleting it

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ay0nha · 1 year

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Some Unholy War | Theseus Scamander

SUMMARY: In an ideal world, you’d like to think you and Theseus could be friends. Frankly, though, his compassion made you nauseous. Or maybe it was nerves. The feeling was always hard for you to distinguish. You wished the way he looked at you would bring warmth to your chest, but it only reminded you of how that was another impossibility.

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, mentions of smoking and drinking, angst, morally gray reader, mutual pining, semi enemies-to- lovers, protective Theseus, etc.

A/N: Lowkey proud of this one, so comments and feedback are Super welcomed! This was based off this request, so thank you SO much anon, this was a blast that might have to be a series. Also Huge thanks to @kalllistos for all the help, couldn’t have been done without you!! Enjoy.

PART II, PART III, PART IV

You fit in so absolutely.

The rim of your glass was still lined with enough sugar to enjoy dwindling sips. Theseus knew it was gin. Your lipstick left a mark on everything you kissed, the pattern was found on your glass, and the cigarette holder balanced between your fingers. You made everything look so serene. Simple.

Scanning the room, you hadn’t seen Theseus yet. However, he, too, fit in—tie properly knotted to show his status and pocket-watch cleverly tucked in his waistcoat. Once he joined you at the secluded booth, he’d complete the idyllic image.

Yet, Theseus lingered for a moment, taking you in. Your confidence was always envious. It worked silently, exuding from your presence alone. Your magnetism couldn’t be credited to magic but to how you evolved, becoming pointed and moving without fault.

Theseus was one of the only ones remaining to know it hadn’t begun that way. He remembered you, a few years below him, always sprinting to class, already late. The professors would scold you, and your confidence was read as insolence. You challenged everything and excelled in doing so, but it only lent itself to trouble. It created a barrier always present between the two of you.

“You’re late.” You sucked in a crackling breath. With pointed eyes, you took his presence in. Even late into the night, he was always so poised. Professional. “I’m risking a lot showing my face here.”

“You look beautiful.” Theseus slid into the leather cushion. The charm always came with his supposed professionalism. It came in waves and never crawled under your skin the way intended. “Relax…It’s fine.”

Unbuttoning his suit jacket’s button, Theseus settled. It was bold of you to accept his invitation to meet so publicly, but he knew you couldn’t resist. You just needed to play your part smartly and get what you want.

“Your promises are too shallow for me to trust.” You crossed your legs, making it easier to lean and be heard. Then, you clicked your tongue against your teeth with sarcasm, “I think I’d rather you arrest me.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve clocked out for the night.” Theseus was an intentional man, a clever man. He was protecting his image just as much as yours. “It’s just you and me.”

“That’s why you wanted to meet here…” You hummed with feigned realization. The muggle restaurant was a precarious cover but equally as rewarding in its purpose. “You know there are better ways to ask someone on a date.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time…” Theseus matched your hum absentmindedly. The banter was a buffer, something to ease into an inevitable unwanted conversation. Reaching into his heavily charmed jacket, he pulled out a file.

It was always a fucking file. The folders were always pristine, never quite full of all the information, just enough of what Theseus was willing to share. It grew over the years of the unorthodox relationship, but you knew not to mistake that for trust.

The figures in the picture were blurry, moving incoherently as they entered a building. The stack of images moved in sequence, following rushedly an exchange that was meant to remain a secret. Without seeing their faces well, you knew who they were, and you held back from using your cigarette roach to burn it all away. Instead, the image repeat over and over before you, but your expression was trained with passivity.

“When did he get out?” You finally met Theseus’ eye. Your composure could fool most, but to a trained eye, your discomfort was obvious.

“A month or so at this point...”

Your laugh was bitter. “So, I’ve been a sitting duck.”

“You’ve been avoiding me...” Theseus countered, his tone just barely teasing. There was truth in jest, as there were plenty of owls following you. You looked at him, knowing what came next. His compassion would get him killed. “...I can help you.”

“Careful.” You cocked your head, musing a buried thought. “You’re getting awful sentimental these days.”

“Don’t you want those off?” Theseus leaned in like you had, voice low. Although his fingers were threaded together, he pointed to the bracelets on your wrists.

You smirked, “And ruin my outfit?”

Rarely did you acknowledge them so explicitly. The bracelets—admonitors—dampened your magic by tracking your every spell. They made you feel like a child with a trace spell. Part of you wished you could say you grew accustomed to the constant surveillance, but you grew weary of lying.

The offer was too sweet, and you wanted more than just your magic untraced. “What’s the catch?”

“You help the Ministry find him.” Theseus was trying to protect you, but you were too filled with vindication to notice.

“You mean work for you.”

He frowned, correcting you, “With me.”

“There truly isn’t a difference in your world.” You spat. The ministry was the reason you were in this mess; they branded your cuffs as a daily reminder that your autonomy was shared. “You’d be using me as bait.”

The conversation would go in circles, as it always had. It was the reason more time was added between meetings. Every time you left, that bitter taste grew stronger, and it was difficult to put it aside to face Theseus again and again. This was different—more threatening, but your anger prevailed.

“I won’t do it.”

“Catching him will clear your name.” Theseus all but begged. He remained poised, but you knew it would only last for so long. Those around you looked your way; interest piqued in conversation they weren’t privy to.

“I’m not innocent.” You were blunt. You had been called cold because of it. But it was a trait that you favored, especially at times like this. You wanted to see Theseus break.

You had done unspeakable things, figuring it was an acceptable way to siphon your affection. You were young and blinded by false idolization. Theseus chose to see the best in you, even now, even after everything. He, too, was blinded by an image of you that hadn’t changed since you were children.

The table held your drink, forgotten and diluted. The air was tense and hushed. Theseus needed to move fast, knowing you were moments away from fleeing. But he knew he had just enough time as you lit another cigarette, this time not for vanity but to quell your nerves.

Your nails tapped on the base of your cocktail glass. Your fingertips twitched, begging to satisfy their itch for magic. You debated on if your actions would be worth it. Theseus decided for you, hand flexing to replenish your drink.

Your lipstick remained fresh but still marked the glass. It was perfectly cold, calming the swarm of nerves that hit you. “It’s a bit strong.”

“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.” Theseus appreciated your teasing; it meant he was doing something right.

“This place is quite charming, you know,” You looked around before shifting forward even more. It may have been improper, but you leaned over the table, elbows resting comfortably. “Next time, we’ll have to venture and order food.”

“Sure.” Theseus agreed, body language mirroring yours. To anyone else, the pair of you would look smitten. “Anytime you’d like.”

“Anytime?” Your eyebrow ticked up as you tapped at the ashtray. “Come on, I’m surprised you’ve stuck around as long as you have.” Your knuckles crept forward, almost bumping his as they dragged to the middle of the linen cloth atop the table. “Truly—We haven’t—”

You stopped yourself with an uncharacteristic laugh. A tinge spread below Theseus’ freckles, assuming your humor was chastising him. But you were laughing at yourself, at how ridiculous you felt. You were enjoying yourself.

The feeling felt foreign, so you prickled. “Be practical, Theseus.”

Your worlds barely overlapped, and where it had highlighted the worst parts of each of you. Your world was dark and hidden; you stole and bribed. You were suitable for it and resisted morphing into the image Theseus expected of you.

He was as kind as any Hufflepuff, putting other needs first and blindly placing his kindness. He mistook his demeanor for bravery, but his true bravery formed by sitting across from you. The only barrier seemed to be Theseus’ incorruptible moral code, a space where you couldn’t quite freely exist.

“I need to know the full story.” His voice was commanding, betraying his desperation.

Theseus looked warm, contrasting the winter blizzarding outside. A bubble was created that was becoming suffocating, but with him across you, it seemed just marginally bearable. His hand flexed, skimming yours, hoping to regain your attention.

“You already know how it ends. What does the rest matter?” You thought to sink back, but you chased the small contact. “I want nothing to do with this. With him.”

“I’ll be there the entire time,” Theseus promised, voice low and steady, reflecting his sincerity. You could make out the warmth he was willing to share, but you weren’t willing to accept it wholly.

“And my interests?”

Theseus’ expression fell slightly at your evasive rejection. It reminded him of his position, of his strained relation to you—what he was supposed to do but always found a reason to put off.

“It depends on where they lie.”

In an ideal world, you’d like to think you and Theseus could be friends. Frankly, though, his compassion made you nauseous. Or maybe it was nerves. The feeling was always hard for you to distinguish. You wished the way he looked at you would bring warmth to your chest, but it only reminded you of how that was another impossibility.

You wished his gaze would turn you to stone; that way, you could avoid everything else. Instead, it made you melt, it made you pliable in way you opposed with others. There was a suspicion he kept returning just because of that—despite your bluff and his willful ignorance, you weren’t made of stone, and deep down, he knew that. Probably not consciously, but he did.

You always came back. Or he did—another indistinguishable something. You could still feel his fingers reaching for yours. It almost made you cave. Yet, your back met the bench of the booth, and your hand drew away as you placed your cigarette on your lips.

Although you were still present, Theseus watched you flee. Your guard returned stronger, but he didn’t regret his words. Theseus’ eyes were pleading, and you went to blame his naivety, but you found something distinct there. The reason you were here tonight was not for a favor.

It was an ultimatum, not a request.

“When was this decided?” You asked. You thought Theseus came alone, and now the naivety fell on you. There were too many eyes on you now to dismiss the crowd as solely muggles. You fell so perfectly into the trap that all you could do was laugh.

“I wanted to keep you out of this,” Theseus admitted. It was the truth, but he knew what needed to be done. The greater good, you could already hear his defense. “This is the only way.”

“Your way.” You shook your head. Another laugh. “And what happens when he kills me? Hmm?”

“He won’t.” Another promise that made you sick. “I’ll be there the whole ti—

“Then you, Theseus—” Venom dripped from your every pointed word. From the corner of your eye, you saw how the undercover aurors were ready to respond to your agitation. If they wanted a spectacle, you were moments from providing it. “— are ill-prepared for what he’s willing to do.”

“You need to trust me.” Theseus attempted to regain the conversation but failed to recognize any mending he made was lost.

“And why should I trust the man that watches my every move?”

Theseus put you in this position; he was the wizard who held your wrist tightly all those years ago to secure the admonitors. For your own good, he told you. He believed it, and yet again, you found yourself at the hands of his so-called mercy.

“And if I decline?” You weren’t in such a position to, but Theseus understood your question only brought ruination.

“The only way you're walking out of here is because of me.”

A threat, how original. Your cigarette threatened to burn your lips. The ash tarnished the linen that fell over your lap. Apart of you hoped it would set the entire thing aflame. Maybe then you’d have a chance at a genuine escape. For now, though, you resolved to the final word.

“You think you are blessed with morality—” You finished your drink, the taste becoming sour. “—yet what sits before me is nothing but a boy that’s only purpose is to follow orders blindly.”

#q #theseus scamander #theseus #scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander fluff #theseus scamander angst #theseus scamander x f!reader #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander #fantastic beasts fic #FUCK jkr #fuck terfs

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blessedwithabadomen · 3 months

Text

in love with the mess - day six

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : angst, fluff

length : 4k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3 @kageyasma

a/n : hope you're prepared for a bit of angst, I hope I managed to do it justice because it's definitely the genre I'm least used to, but here we go! enjoy and leave a reblog or a comment and I'll love you forever 🥰💗

•••

day six

I barely slept. One reason was the lingering alcohol in my veins making me so dizzy that closing my eyes seemed like a punishment. The other was the fact that my brain was desperately trying to make sense of everything that had transpired that night. I knew, I was fully aware, that this had been what I’d been wanting in a way. But fantisising about these things and actually going through with them were two entirely different things.

I had kissed Noah. I had kissed Oli. They had kissed each other.

It sounded perfect on paper or in a romance novel that was guaranteed a happy ending, but the more the morning light emerged and hit me through the curtains I’d never closed, the more the reality of it weighed on me. Last night, we had crossed some lines that we’d only been eyeing before. Kissing Oli had felt more intimate than all the stuff we’d gotten up to before. As far as I knew, last night also marked the first time Oli and Noah had gotten that close.

How were we going to behave around each other now? We could go and blame it on the alcohol, but I didn’t think that anyone in this constellation could honestly say that it wouldn’t have happened anyway, at some point in time. The temptation had been lingering between us for days. Maybe longer in some cases.

I turned off the alarm on my phone as it blared through the silent room. It hurt my head. A noisy reminder that life had to go on. That I would have to face both of them, without any idea of how they would react. If they regretted it. If they would pull back now. If everything would change for the worse. Or the worst.

My tired body dragged itself through the motions. Shower. Getting dressed. Packing my stuff. No flattering outfit today, just a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable hoodie.

I didn’t meet anyone in the hallway or the lift or the lobby. A few people were already around in the car park, loading in everyone’s stuff, mingling about, smoking another cigarette. I pulled the hood up into my face. I’d avoided the mirror pretty successfully this morning, but I just knew I looked rough. Some people knew I’d been out with Lia last night and they would no doubt love to get some mocking remarks in about my perceived hangover. I didn’t have the nerves for it.

A glimpse of Noah.

My feet immediately stopped dead in their tracks. It shouldn’t have been so surprising, really. Of course, he would be around sooner or later.

He looked just as beat up as I felt. I wished I knew if it was because of the late night or if he’d stayed up wondering too. He looked at me for a second, face paler than I remembered, dark circles appearing under his eyes, and gave me a wave. No smile, no urge to move toward me, no words, just his hand in the air without much conviction.

I waved back, unsure of how to proceed, but someone patted Noah on the back to get his attention. Free from the burning stare, I got onto the bus. I was armed with a few personal things, when I climbed the stairs and made a beeline for my bunk. There was no noise around me. Either everyone was still getting ready or people were being extremely quiet.

The curtain on Oli’s bunk was drawn shut. I tried hard to remember if he’d left it like that the day before or if it was an indication that he was here already, but I came up short. It didn’t matter, in the end. I slipped into my own bunk and closed the curtain.

Unless Oli decided to go the route of “pretending nothing at all happened”, he probably wouldn’t talk to me anyway. I’d known him long enough. He was the type to battle things on his own for as long as the world allowed him to, before he would talk to anyone or ask for help. I felt like the three of us had that in common. It wasn’t the greatest mix of people when it came to bumps in the road.

I pushed the thoughts away, just like I ignored the slight lump in my throat that I refused to let grow. Picking up my phone from where it had burrowed in my bunk, I took the plunge to check my regular mails again, something I’d been avoiding since getting on this tour. It held the usual disappointments.

A rejection from a job I’d applied for that would have started right after tour.

A mail from my father which got deleted unseen.

Another rejection.

Spam.

An old employer saying they didn’t have any capacities for me any time soon.

More spam.

A mail from my roommate.

The last one took me by surprise, but the content cleared it up immediately. “Got a new phone, lost your number but found your e-mail address on some junk paper in the kitchen. Call me when you can.” With a groan, I put my phone away again. I didn’t know what this was about, but it couldn’t be good. We both weren’t terribly keen on each other, but it was the only place in London I could find that only had one other person living there instead of four, so it seemed like a good deal. I made a mental note to call her later, without much motivation.

Turning on my side, I snuggled into the relatively comfortable bunk. Exhaustion draped itself over me like a heavy blanket. I fell asleep, the hours awake finally catching up with me, and was granted a dreamless few hours.

•••

When I woke up, the curtain to my bunk was disturbed, not closed all the way anymore and I wondered if I’d moved it in my sleep or if someone had come to check up on me. If it was the latter, it was probably someone trying to figure out if I was actually on the bus or if they’d left me in Manchester by mistake. I thought that wouldn’t be all too bad. However, we had arrived in Glasgow, apparently, and there was work to do. With a heavy sigh, I heaved myself out of my quarters. Time to check in to the hotel, check on Oli, get to the venue, soundcheck, the usual.

I found Oli in the hotel lobby, getting his room key. I quickly waved down another receptionist to get my own, only half-heartedly listening to their introduction to the hotel and then legged it after him, only just managing to make it into the lift before the doors closed. I wasn’t going to take silent treatment for an answer. I’d accepted that kind of behaviour more often than I’d like to admit in my life, I wasn’t going to go down that road with Oli.

The doors closed behind me, leaving the two of us in silence. I mustered him, trying to figure out where we were at, where his mind was, how to approach whatever had shifted between us. He didn’t look overly stressed. Or like he hadn’t slept. But I knew he also had a talent to hide it well. My brain was fumbling over what words to choose when he finally looked at me.

Then, without warning or giving me time to prepare, Oli was on me, kissing me hard and fast, and I couldn’t do anything but wrap my arms around him and reciprocate. I helplessly moaned into his mouth, completely at his mercy, and then the lift dinged and both of us flew apart just as the doors opened to our floor.

I stepped out of the lift ahead of him, momentarily confused as to where to go, the sudden kiss having erased all memories of my room number, but Oli passed me by easily, walking into whatever direction I figured was probably the correct one for me too.

“Oli!” I called after him, but he didn’t stop until he was at the door. I watched as he unlocked it and shoved his suitcase in so it would stay open. “Aren’t we going to talk?”

“What about?” I could practically see the shield he had put up. It was a sight that hadn’t greeted me in years, taking me aback and confusing me. Him being distant, hiding away, not letting me in, not letting me see the real him felt like a punishment. But it was exactly what he was doing, hanging about in the middle of the doorframe, an arrogant look on his face that I knew was nothing but a mask. I hated this side of him as much as it worried me.

“Last night? Starting with the fact that we kissed?”

He cocked his eyebrow at me with a smirk, but it wasn’t honest and it wasn’t reassuring. It was annoying. “Yeah, and? We just did again. Ain’t that what we’d been working towards? Having a little snog? Well, there you go.”

I swallowed my anger at the way he was presenting things, twisting what was happening, downplaying it. It took a deep breath to convince me to stay calm. He was doing this to keep himself from being vulnerable, not to be an arsehole, I tried to remind myself. Unfortuantely, it didn’t help that he sounded and looked every bit like a cunt in that moment.

“What about Noah then? Also just a game to you?”

There was a flicker of something on his face, something that was threatening to break through his facade, but he quickly regained his composure.

“What if it is?”

I didn’t have an answer to that, stunned by the audacity. Both of us knew that he was lying, but he was clinging to his version of things so adamantly it made me want to punch his face. I couldn’t tell where I found the strength to keep myself from doing it. Probably the idea of what this whole mess could do to Noah.

I needed to talk to Noah.

“Right, that it?” Oli asked, apparently bored out of his mind. “If you want a quick fuck, you’re welcome to come in. If not, I’ll see you at soundcheck.”

The door fell into the lock before I could respond. Fucking prick. I thought he had learned, in the past years, I really did, but this just proved that he was a stubborn as ever. With a noise of frustration, I harshly stamped my foot into the carpet underneath, just to rid myself of some of the tension. It didn’t work.

•••

Neither Oli nor Noah were anywhere to be found when I got to the venue. My messages to both of them had somehow gone unread, which frustrated me even more. One of them was supposed to be my boss which made my work impossible. The other didn’t seem like the type to not check his phone which was equal parts weird. It wasn’t until someone tipped me off that at least Noah had been seen getting back to his dressing room that I finally had some success.

Well. Technically, I had twice the success because Oli was leaving the room right as I reached it. I was about to ask him what was going on, why wasn’t he answering my mails, did he really have no need for me today, but he simply nodded in recognition and sauntered past me. One problem after the other, I told myself, knocking and letting myself into Noah’s dressing room.

Noah was sitting on the sofa, cross-legged, looking up at me with wide eyes. I let myself fall onto the cushions next to him, utterly exhausted by the day and it wasn’t even showtime. Without a word, Noah put his arm around me, allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder. The comfort spread through me like a hot cup of tea.

“Are you okay?” I asked simply because I was afraid he would ask me first. “What did Oli want?”

“Just checking if we were okay, I guess,” Noah sighed. I internally scoffed at the fact that he had bothered with Noah but not with me, but I pushed the thought away. “Wanting to make sure I still wanted to Antivist tonight.” He paused for a moment. “Do you know when someone is talking and talking but they’re not actually saying anything? Oli is an expert at that, isn’t he. I have no idea what he thinks about last night. I can’t even pinpoint if I asked.”

“Oli can be all smoke and mirrors and leave you more confused than before you talked to him,” I agreed. “How do you feel about last night?”

I didn’t lift my head. I gave both of us the chance to speak as freely as possible without having to look at each other. The same way the darkness gave you the freedom to reveal your secrets at night when you’re a kid, before you came to regret your honesty the next morning.

Noah’s answer began with a big sigh. “I liked kissing him,” he admitted. “I liked kissing you, too. I liked watching him kiss you. But I’m not…” I allowed him as much time as he needed to find his words. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to get involved… with anyone. I can’t give anyone what they need. I’m away and I don’t talk about my feelings and I’m a terrible partner and-”

I couldn’t help myself as I interrupted his speech, sitting upright and taking his face in my hands to force him to look at me. Even self-doubt looked handsome on him.

“You’re talking about your feelings right now, Noah, and you’re doing just fine.”

His head dropped low, now finding my shoulder as I awkwardly hugged him. The scent of his hair was in my nose and I had to actively stop myself from inhaling loudly. He smelled like comfort, I decided. Noah looked back up as I raked my fingers through his hair.

“What do you want to do now?” I asked, carefully.

“I just know I don’t want to stop kissing you.”

It was all I needed, right then and there. I kissed him with all the intensity, all the desperation, all the need inside of me, all the frustration about Oli, all the feelings I had for him but couldn’t or wouldn’t yet name. His mouth was starting to feel familiar against mine, familiar but never boring in the way it moved, the way he tasted. He held me close, pressing our chests together, my breasts heavy between us, his hands all over me in sweet gestures that still had me burning for more.

Both of us were breathless when we separated, but I couldn’t help peppering a few more kisses to his lips, short and soft but saying it all, until it came to a natural end. The smile on his face, directed solely at me, his brown eyes, so enticing, smiling along, was more than enough.

I didn’t want to stop kissing him either.

•••

Oli kept himself much less approachable. He finally read my message but left me without a reply. I managed to run into him several times before his band’s set, but he more or less sent me away every time, claiming not to need anything at all. Just relax and sit down somewhere, he had told me with a dismissive wave of his hand. He was stubborn, but so was I. The last hour before his stage time, I simply followed him around the arena like a lost puppy, just in case he found a use for me. He didn’t. But I felt stupidly pleased that I didn’t let him get away with whatever game he was trying to play.

Still, I was annoyed and felt the rage simmering inside of me. Oli managed to put on a good show, but I felt like his mind wasn’t quite in the right place. Mine wasn’t either. I quickly spoke to Bring Me’s tour manager when I caught him at the side of the stage, purely to let someone know, before going the long way round and finding myself on the arena floor among the fans. I had been a fan myself, long before I’d been working on tours, and that hadn’t changed, no matter how many I went on. I knew that being in a crowd, surrounding by people, screaming the lyrics and moving to the music, would help me clear my head like nothing else could. Besides, it felt about time I got to witness their show from the perspective of the audience, the very people everything from the setlist to the production to the sound design had been specifically made for.

I squeezed myself into the middle of the crowd, made easier by the amount of movement around me, and took a deep breath that was unfortunately filled with the sweat of people who never learned to use deodorant. It made me move a little further, just until the air was slightly more breathable. And then it felt like home.

I wasn’t Aubrey, personal assistant to Oli anymore and he wasn’t Oli, decade-long friend that turned into the most stubborn person on the planet when faced with his vulnerability anymore. I was nothing more than a fan enjoying the music of one of her favourite bands and getting positively lost in the experience. So I went crazy for Diamonds Aren’t Forever and Parasite Eve, kept my eyes on the screens for Antivist just to catch a glimpse of Noah, getting closer to the front of the stage through a number of moshpits, fought hard not to get emotional for Drown.

The fact that Can You Feel My Heart followed didn’t help. The words travelled through my body, taking hold of me, and I was sure I’d never quite felt them the way I did right then and there. And then…

And then Oli didn’t do the speech. His cheesy ass speech he did in the middle of the song, that he constantly joked about backstage but that I knew was so important to him. And he didn’t do it. Could he not bring himself to say the words? Was he too scared to be vulnerable tonight? Could he not bear the thought of baring his soul like that? Had I made it worse?

I hate to get close, and I hate being alone, I long for that feeling to not feel at all…

The world seemed to close in on me. Oli was being a dickhead, yes, but had I pushed him too far? Had I played his stupid game without taking into account that I knew how much he struggled with allowing that type of intimacy? I had been so preoccupied with my own need for him that I didn’t stop to think if I should check up on him instead of teasing him further and further, allowing him to escalate our friendship into something that could be beyond repair. My head was spinning so hard it made me feel dizzy.

I didn’t notice the moshpit opening up around me until someone crashed into my body, sending me flying to the floor. Someone’s hands were on me, possibly multiple, getting me back on my feet, checking on me. I felt something wet on my face but didn’t think to check, people were shouting at each other over the music, coming to an agreement that someone should get up and crowdsurf to the front where they would get help quicker. Me. They were talking about me. Something dripped onto my eyelid and I wiped it away in annoyance as I got lifted up. Blood? The crowd carried me easily. The song was almost over when a security guard caught me and I briefly looked up to see Oli staring down at me, worried. I wasn’t sure why.

Next thing I knew, I was backstage again, a medic shining a light in my eyes which was awfully annoying, Oli and Noah crouching next to me, being asked questions that were easily answered.

“She’s okay, she probably got a slight concussion, but that will be fine by tomorrow. The cut on her eyebrow is minimal and doesn’t need stitches, it just looks bad because it bled, but that’s stopped which means it’s not too deep. Just make sure it’s kept clean and it should heal just fine.”

“You okay?” Oli asked, carefully grazing his fingertips over my cheek. Awfully soft, really. “I need to get back on stage, but Noah will take you to the dressing room and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I’m fine,” I hissed, still high on adrenaline but slowly catching up with what was happening around me. “You don’t need to suddenly care again just because I got injured.”

I could see that my words had hurt him but I didn’t care. Even if my heart pounded heavily. I allowed Noah to help me up and lead me to Oli’s dressing room where he sat me down on the sofa and inspected my wound.

“Do I look sexy all bloody?”

The laugh erupted from his throat out of nowhere. “The medic cleaned you up, but sure, very sexy.”

Silence settled over us as I leaned against his side. The exhaustion of the whole day was washing over me and I was suddenly glad for a little peace and quiet. Neither of us spoke again, simply enjoying the physical contact, until it got louder again from outside the door and we knew the concert had ended.

“Done with your ego trip, then?” I asked as Oli entered the room. He had the decency to look ashamed which I thought was a step forward.

“Never,” he mumbled, but there was no malice in his voice. I raised my eyebrow at him, which shot a dose of pain through my head. My wince softened him immediately. Idiot. “I’m sorry you got hurt. That shouldn’t have happened.”

I genuinely couldn’t tell if he was talking about my mosh pit incident or…

“I guess some people just need to be a little more careful with those around them. Just because they didn’t mean to doesn’t mean other people don’t end up with a headache.”

“You know, some people try very hard, but they’re also very slow learners.”

“I feel like there’s a metaphor here that’s flying right over my head,” Noah interrupted and I couldn’t help but laugh, pressing a short kiss to his temple. Poor Noah, having no idea what he was getting dragged into with Oli and me, but taking it in his stride that neither of us was willing to let him go unless he genuinely asked for it.

I reached my hand out to Oli, deciding to be the bigger person despite knowing that it wasn’t on me to make that first step, but I was impatient and Oli would take forever to be brave enough to come crawling back. “I’m not saying this is over or that we don’t have things to talk about, but as long as you stop pretending to be this cruel and heartless version of you, you’re allowed back into the cuddle pile.”

Oli didn’t take my hand immediately, but looked at Noah, as if checking in with him if he was of the same opinion. I decided to give him credit for it. Noah nodded and in an instant, Oli had draped himself over both our laps, hot to the touch and rather sweaty. The tension between the three of us hadn’t vanished, but it had lessened. Questions remained unanswered and discussions were still to be had but maybe Oli wasn’t the only one reluctant to dive into the deep end.

He mouthed sorry, Aubrey at me and I hated the way my heart melted and my resolve slipped. Then Noah softly stroked his hair and I was sure that some other hearts in this room were melting just the same. I couldn’t help it. I was in love with the mess we were creating.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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lillian-gallows · 8 months

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Kinktober Day 15: Shotgunning with Deadpool

Pairing: Deadpool x Nongendered!Reader Word Count: 2201 Warning: Drug use (weed), Shotgunning, Wade's affinity for nicknames, Making out, Lil bit of heavy petting (Over clothes). Kinktober Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

You and Wade Wilson have a…Unique relationship.

It started simply enough. You were neighbors, your apartment being to the left of his. You’d seen him a few times in passing, weird ass red and black suit and swords and guns, covered in blood on more occasions than not, which he always promised wasn’t his as if that was any comfort.

It didn’t take long for his job as a mercenary to get mentioned, though it was in this quickly mentioned and moved on from way, like when the person you’re talking to already knows a fact, so you touch on it and leave it at that to continue the conversation.

It made the weapons make more sense, but it did nothing to explain the full body suit he wore, though with the way he joked about his “ugly mug” you had a feeling that he may have scars from his work or maybe a birthmark that he didn’t like people to see.

You could respect that, not like it was anyone’s business anyway.

For months the only interactions you had with the man were when your paths crossed in the hallways, stairwell, or at the mailboxes. That is, till he fell through your window one night at three in the morning, covered in blood and missing a whole fucking hand.

He’d thought your window was his.

After panicking, because what the actual fuck, you helped him back to his apartment and basically babysat him while his hand grew back because you didn’t really believe that it would. Then it did.

You know about Mutants, have several friends who are mutants, it was nothing out of the ordinary for you, but this was a lot to take in, especially after being woken from dead sleep.

Wade had offered you some weed to help calm your nerves, and his at having someone in his space but you hadn’t known that at the time.

That was how you two fell into a semi-routine of hanging out once or twice a week to smoke and watch shit T.V.

He’d never taken his mask all the way off, but in order to take hits and eat he’d had to lift it, showing the scars that covered the skin on his chin and mouth, you make a point of not letting your eyes linger on his bare skin, so as not to make him uncomfortable, but the truth was it didn’t bother you.

This particular day you’d been a little late to the sesh because you’d decided to cook instead of order in, food was usually on you since Wade provided the weed, and it was more than a fair trade, and you always either bought or made enough for leftovers. Win, win, win.

You had to kick the door rather than knock, hands too full of the baking dish filled to the brim with lasagna, and the bag full of smaller snacks hanging from your arm.

The door opened a moment later to reveal Wade taking up the while doorway with his broad body, clad in a pair of grey sweats, a black hoodie, and his red and black mask. It always threw you for a loop seeing him in casual clothes but still wearing the mask, but you doubted he had a casual mask he could wear, unless he wanted to wear a ski mask or something, which would be even weirder.

“Hey, sweet thang!” He was grinning as he spoke, energy was infectious as a smile of your own found your face.

“Hey, mind letting me in? Or would you rather eat this off the floor?” You joked as you shifted your hold on the dish.

He moved to let you in, muttering a “I’d eat it off you if you let me.” As you reach the kitchen, the sound of the door closing behind you almost concealing the words.

He said stuff like that a lot. Sometimes you wondered if he actually meant it or if it was one of his ‘boxes’, or just an intrusive thought given voice. You hoped it was the first option but seeing as he never acted on any of it or said it in a way that he thought you’d hear, you assumed it was one of the others and never called attention to it.

You wished he meant it though. In the time since you’d gotten to know the man, in all his insane antics and danger, you also learned he was actually really sweet and thoughtful. He’s also sad, and really lonely. He’s mentioned someone he calls Wolvie being a friend, but usually complains about how mean he is in the same breath, so you’re not sure how many friends Wade actually has.

What you knew for sure though, was that you had the worst schoolgirl style crush on him.

It was a little embarrassing and you hoped it wasn’t obvious. He never said anything about it if it was, not counting his mutterings, but you weren’t going to hold him to words said that you clearly weren’t meant to hear.

It didn’t take long for you to settle into his couch, a cloud of smoke floating over your head as the sound of the T.V. filtered into your ears, the characters on it were in a similar position to you and Wade, smoking and letting the bonelessness take over, only they were clearly the love interest of the movies narrative. You watched as the man leaned in and blew the smoke into the woman’s mouth, a slow and sensual curl of grey that looked like an ethereal kiss.

You knew what shotgunning was, but you’d never had the chance to try it with someone, and you felt your face flush as you imagined doing it with Wade.

“You good there, cherry tomato?” He teased as he passed the joint to you, the second one of the day, and freshly lit.

“Yeah.” You managed, voice sounding a little tight, but you could blame it on lack of breath before taking a hit, the smoke burning its way through your lungs then turning everything soft. You pointed at the T.V. “You ever done that?” You asked without thinking, the weed asking the question for you.

He looked at the T.V., where the pair were still passing smoke between their lips and so close to kissing, then back to you. “What, shotgunning? Yeah, not great for getting high, but really good for getting in someone’s pants.” He chuckled and you could feel his eyes on you, scanning over you like he could tell why you’d asked. “Why? You wanna try it?” He teased.

The question made you jump a little, or it felt like a little, you could have jumped a mile, or you may not have moved at all, it was hard to tell.

Your face scrunched in what you hoped looked like nonchalance. “Nah, just curious is all.” You lied.

You felt his body heat before anything else and when you turned to look at him, his head was tilted, and a smirk planted firmly on his lips.

“That blush says otherwise.” He still sounded teasing, but there was something under it, a low rumble that denoted a seriousness you weren’t used to from the merc.

“So, what if I do?” You shrugged, trying not to give away how your heart was hammering in your chest.

He mimicked your shrug. “If you ask nicely, I might be willing to help you out.”

You rolled your eyes, of course he would find a way to turn this into a game, cheeky bastard.

“Please, oh please, Wade. Won’t you teach me how to shotgun?” You said, calling his bluff with sass dripping from every word.

His smirk spread into a slow grin. “Well, since you asked so politely. Sure, Dollface, I’ll teach ya.” He said, sitting back against the couch once more and patting his lap. “C’mere.”

For as high as you felt moments ago, you now felt jarringly sober now, you hadn’t thought he was being serious, not with the way you both always tease each other, but you found yourself crawling from your spot on the couch with shaky limbs to straddle Wades lap anyway.

You swallowed thickly as your hands came to rest of his shoulders, unsure of where else to put them, while his made themselves perfectly at home on your hips.

As if sensing your nerves, you saw his smile soften. “You know you don’t have to do anything, right? I won’t be offended.” There was something insecure in his words, like he was worried he was the reason you might not want to.

“I wouldn’t have moved if I didn’t want to, Wade.” You answered. “I was pretty comfy.” You smiled and he snorted softly.

“Okay, then.” He said before one of his hands left your hip to pick up the still smoldering joint. “It’s really simple. I take a hit, then we get nice and close, and you inhale when I exhale. Got it?” He asked, holding the roach inches from his lips.

You nodded. “Got it.”

The cherry glowed as he drew in, holding it in his mouth as his other hand found its way to your cheek, tilting your head to line up your mouths, your lips parted in anticipation and your fingers curled into the soft fabric of his hoodie, the muscles under your hands flexed at the action, but there was no reaction beyond that.

Holding the joint away from both of you, he leaned in slowly, you could feel his eyes watching you but all you could look at were his lips, scarred as the rest of what you’ve seen of him, but you could see from the shape that they were once full and pouty.

The smoke curled from between his lips as he blew it gently toward you, and you inhaled as much as you could, what little you missed went twisting up into the air over your head.

He was right when he said this wasn’t very good for getting high, as you held the secondhand smoke and felt it do almost nothing, but with the proximity, the solid press of his body under yours, you understood why the pair on the T.V. had seemed to enamored with each other. You felt drunk on him and nothing had really even happened yet.

Blowing the smoke over your heads to join the rest of the cloud you felt something twitch against your leg, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was.

Wade was hard.

“Well? What do you think?” He asked once you looked back at him, his voice was low, just this side of a whisper.

“I don’t know…Think I might need another try, you know, to really decide how I feel about it…” You murmured, eyes flitting between his and his lips.

The corner of his mouth ticked up slightly and he nodded, bringing the joint back to his lips. This time as he exhaled and you inhaled, you felt his cock jump again, and rather than resist the urge, you pressed against him, almost grinding.

Wade’s breath turned shuddery and his hold on you tightened slightly. “That’s just not fair, Babycakes…” He scolded lightly, not actually bothered by your actions.

“Who ever said I play fair?” You countered, smirking down at him, still mere inches from his face.

He nodded slowly, like he was thinking out his next move. “Well, then in that case…” He trailed off before taking hold of your hips once more, and in a motion more fluid than you expected, maneuvering both of your bodies till you were laying on the couch, and he was hovering over you. “I won’t either.”

You stared up at him wide-eyed for a moment as your mind caught up to your body, and when it did, you brought your hands to his face, the muscles there twitched as if resisting a kneejerk reaction, but he didn’t move. “Not gonna touch the mask.” You promised. “But if you don’t kiss me, I think I might just die.”

He leaned even closer, so close you could almost feel his skin. “We can’t have that, now, can we?” He whispered, breath ghosting over your lips, then he made contact.

His lips weren’t as rough as his scars might lead one to think, scar tissue tends to be thick but rather soft, and his was no exception, but you were too busy focusing on just how good a kisser Wade was. Tilting his head to mold his lips to yours, teeth and tongue meeting yours smoothly and even sweetly. It all made your heart soar, and your pussy clench.

Your hands trailed down his body slowly, feeling every dip and curve he had to offer, till you reached the bulge in his pants, giving a careful stroke over the fabric, and earning a pleased hum for your efforts.

“That’s a dangerous game, you sure you wanna play it?” He asked against your lips.

“More than sure.” You answered.

That game was played for the rest of the night, and most of the next day.

#deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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mayhemscorner · 1 year

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The Beast Within

Gaara x f!reader

Summary: with the inability to control the sand demon Shukaku, it’s up to Y/N to bring Gaara and the demon back to peace

Warnings: injury, self harm, angst, swearing, topics may be sensitive

With the pressure of my lids bearing down against my eyes in an attempt to shut out the scene in front of me, hoping, praying that it was a horrible dream… the guttural screams of Gaara still pierce my ears and drop to a sickly feeling in my stomach. My hands clench over my ears as the screams die off to a dull ringing noise. I find myself shouting, but I can’t even hear myself anymore, forcing my eyes to witness Gaara worn out and barely conscious as Shukaku begins to take his final form. I’ve never seen the horrid beast first hand, I’ve never wanted to either to be honest. An ambush against the sand that had resulted in a particularly strong rogue summoning the sand demon had blind sided us all. Just as Shukakus tail slams down ahead a strong set of arms wrap around me and pulls me back under the shelter of a building. When I turn I see Temari shouting at me, but I only hear snips of her words over the ringing,” Go…. Run… Shelter… Gaara… Help…Possum…”

I shake my head violently, shaking away the ringing as the rumbling ground takes over the sound in my ear, watching as Temari turns back to me,” Y/N, I said you need to go and find shelter. We need to find a way to get Gaara help before he goes Possum.”

She blocks my view of the scene in front of me as Kankuro swings down from the balcony above us and jabs a finger upwards towards the chaos,” not gonna to happen. We’re too late. We have to find a way to wake him up… quickly.”

Shukaku’s horrendous cackle sends a shiver down my spine as we watch him trample almost dead center through the village.

“We have to reroute civilians, this is going to get very messy if we don’t get them to safety.” Temari huffs out, quickly grunting in frustration,” Kankuro, take the left side, I’ll get the right. Y/N, find Baki… anyone that can help. Send word to the leaf if we have to.”

“Temari, we don’t have time to request help from a village that’s days away. We need to focus on waking Gaara up.” Kankuro lashes out, starting towards Shukaku.

“Civilians first, Kankuro.” Temari seems almost hurt putting the village before her own brother. It was understandable, the last thing any of us want is to lose Gaara.

“I’ll work on waking him up.” I pipe up, dusting the sand from my vest and standing wobbly from hearing loss vertigo. Temari stutters in her steps, shaking her head in worry… maybe even disbelief,” Y/N, it’s too dangerous. You can get hurt or even killed. Going up there is a death wish.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re willing to sacrifice our lives for someone we love.” I muster out, internally panicking at the risk and my legs quickly becoming like rubber at the thought. But it was a risk worth taking if it was for Gaara. To him, I may just be an advisor or a paper pusher, or a Jonin of the sand village that was his neighbor. But Gaara… he was everything. The man who has rebuilt the village in morale and trust. The awkward neighbor who would drop off a cactus that reminded him of me, or even bring extra food Temari made for the night when I’d come back from missions. Even the person who just happened to be outside late at night when going for a stroll to clear my head. He saved me from my own demons. He owed me nothing, yet I feel like I owe him my life.

I take off towards Shukakus tail, seeing it was the best vantage point to get to his head where Gaara lay comatose. My vest is ripped backwards from Kankuro behind me,” are you sure you’re prepared to physically hurt Gaara to save him, or do I have to do it myself?”

“I can do this, Kankuro. Now get off me!” I shout out, tearing his hand from my vest and continuing on. I make it to the base of Shukakus tail, focusing chakra to my feet to climb the erratically moving tail, whipping back and forth in to lower buildings and leaving a path of rubble. A shock of pain spreads through my back as I’m slammed against a porch while gripping tightly at the sand like texture of Shukakus armor.

“What is crawling on me? Do I have pests?!” Shukaku bellows out, slamming his tail down in quick strides and almost knocking me off. I can’t help but shriek as his tail crashes down one last time, sending debris crashing down on top of me. I can only cough air in to my lungs and continue on as the beast becomes severely agitated, leaving no room for thinking as he falls forward in to more houses. When he stands, it seems he’s distracted elsewhere to notice me,” who would’ve thought puppets would be such an inconvenience! I finally have time to shine and you try to take me down with a puppet? You’re ridiculous!” Shukaku lets off a horrifying shriek of pain as I see the glimmer of blue threads weaving crow back and forth as a distraction to lure him away from the village. I can only manage to hold on to the demons lower back as he waddles in to the arid desert sand. I watch as he slams crow to the ground and find Kankuro shaking his head. He mouths a few words to me, but it’s a horrible day to not be able to read lips. I find my foot throbbing and dare to look down at the blossoming purple streaks that peek out from above my sandal. But I still push forward, finally making it to the back of Shukaku’s head.

“You’re a persistant little thing aren’t you? Nobody is home up there, it’s just me twerp.” Shukaku laughs out, tilting his head back.

My good foot slips, sending me sliding backwards a few feet before I can find my grip. My legs dangle above the rough sand below as my one hand holds against whatever it can grab. Wincing out, I thrust my other hand to reach for the serenity of some solid mass beneath it. The first try I slip off, yelping as both hands almost lose traction. The second try is a complete miss, but I finally manage to strike gold on the third. My abdomen burns as I pull my full body weight upwards, finally getting a view of Gaara, dangling loosely almost dead center of Shukakus face. I swing my bad leg over and manage to find my feet steady to walk over to Gaara.

“Gaara, anything I’m about to do to get you to wake up, I’m apologizing for now. This is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you… maybe.” I ramble out nervously, watching as Shukaku’s eye focuses on me.

“You’re little for how annoying you are. He’s asleep. Leave him be so I can have my fun already!” Shukaku whines out, similar to the toddlers that play in front of my balcony every evening.

“Listen buddy, you’re making my job a lot harder than it needs to be. You’ve had your fun destroying half our village.” I yell out to his eye, not quite sure where to even look.

“A feisty one. What’s your name pest?” He grumbles out, shaking beneath me as he tries to prevent another fit of laughter.

“Y-Y/N.” I stutter out, confused. His laughter can no longer be contained as he whips his head backwards again, sending me crashing towards Gaara,” Y/N is it? I’m going to have fun killing ya!”

I cling tightly to Gaara’s morbidly lifeless form tilting my head up to confess upon unhearing ears,” Gaara, I’m sorry. I’m not sure what I got myself in to… but I’m going to wake you up if it’s the last thing I do.”

“He can’t hear you! You’re so pathetic it’s almost cute!” Shukaku yells out, twisting his head around to try and shake me loose. He stabilizes quickly as a rush of wind flashes against us. I turn to the direction it came from, seeing Temari’s fan fully open. Wind slices against us harshly, creating small tears in my clothes and even knicks on my face. In the moment of steadiness, I steel down, gripping Gaara’s shoulders to hold him steady. I can only freeze in the moment, seeing the tired rings around his eyes as his hair dangles loosely over them. It was almost serene that in a moment of chaos, he seemed to finally be at peace. I hesitate, quickly deciding to try and slap him awake. Shukaku only laughs at my attempt,” a measly slap won’t do a thing. I like the dedication though little pest!”

He shakes again, trying to reach an arm towards me that’s quickly deflected by another slice of painful wind. I reel back, gripping against Gaara’s sleeve as I send a fist flying to his forehead. I can only wince as bone meets harder bone, a trickle of blood coming from each of us. He only juts forward from the impact, causing my frustration,” come on! Come on, wake up damnit!”

I send fist after fist to different areas, his shoulder, the side of his face and even a cheap shot to his stomach. Nothing had worked. The uneasiness at the thought of using any jutsu works its way to the front of my mind. It had to be last ditch with the risk of burning Gaara, but I was running out of time. I manage to link my arm around Gaara’s to keep hold as Shukaku begins to rumble once again, conjuring balls of flames around us. Quickly unfurling from his arm, I tumble down and roll towards Shukaku’s eye, smacking the back of my head hard against the lower surface of his face as the balls of fire make impact against Gaara and Shukaku’s other eye.

“Now you’ve gone and done it! You’ve pissed me off!- w-what’s happening?” Shukaku bellows, tumbling back and reaching to cover his eye. Swiping my hand against the back of my head, it comes back bloody and my vision hazes. But I’m snapped back to wavering consciousness as a moan sounds faintly from Gaara.

“Gaara, Gaara wake up! Please!” I whimper out, crawling towards him, keeping one hand steady to weakly attempt at healing the back of my head and avoiding any pressure on my fully purple ankle.

“Y/N? … is that you?” Gaara coughs out, eyes still clamped shut and body flailing.

“Y-yeah. It’s me, I’m not going anywhere until you open your eyes, okay?” I yelp out as Shukaku’s hand manages to clip at my feet.

“Y/N, where are you? Are you hurt?” He breathes out, eyes beginning to flutter open and wander around.

“I-I’m fine. Just look forward and try to find Temari. Don’t focus on me, damnit!” I shriek in pain as Shukaku shakes once again, angered at seeing Gaara regain consciousness. I meet Gaara’s frightened gaze upon seeing me, my breath hitches at the pain constricting his face,” Y/N-“ he tries grasping at my now outstretched arm, disoriented by another assault of wind from Temari. Shukaku bows forward as she finishes the previous injury to his eye. My own eyes grow in horror, stretching out to try and grasp Gaara’s outstretched hand as my body slides forwards. Our fingers brush before I feel any solid ground beneath me disappear.

“Y/N!” Gaara shouts, becoming fully aware at this point as I look up, plummeting the long distance to the ground quickly. As I close my eyes in acceptance, a strong force tackles in to me from the side, laying me down gently as Kankuro’s voice wavers in and out,” I guess you really were prepared, huh?”

That’s the last I remember before waking with a dry throat and aching body. My eyes slowly adjust to the pulsing white lights signaling I was in the hospital.

“Take it easy killer. We don’t need you almost killing yourself again.” Kankuro huffs out from the doorway. I look over to see him posted against the frame, watching inside and out of the room like it was his duty to guard me instead of visiting.

“Kankuro! Gaara, we need to get ba-“ I begin, abruptly cut off by Kankuro’s sigh of annoyance,” you knocked yourself silly for a few days after trying to play hero. It’s over. He’s alive.”

“Alive doesn’t mean he isn’t hurt. Why are you being so bitter?” I spit out, staring back to the ceiling.

“Bitter? We could’ve lost both of you. You should’ve let me do it. Now look at you, it’s pathetic.” Kankuro growls back. I chuckle slightly, feeling the pain wrack against my ribs,” you’re mad because you couldn’t be the hero? I’m sorry but the village would miss me a lot less than they would miss you.”

Kankuro exhales heavily, sitting next to the bed to whisper harshly,“It’s not the village I care about missing you. The village is important, don’t get me wrong. But the thing that separates you and me… even Temari. My family comes before this village. It could burn to the ground for all I care if it means my family, and the ones they love… Live. It’s not about being a hero. It never was.”

“Good news, Gaara is alive. And so are you and Temari. You look to be in perfect health, so stop being so damn angry over something we can’t change. I’m just an advisor, Kankuro. If anything I mean more to the Kazekage than Gaara as a person.” I whisper back to him, wondering at this point why we were even whispering in a room that contained only us. I continue on after turning away,” sometimes love is a one sided story, Kankuro. You wouldn’t know that. If I can’t love them personally, I can at least sacrifice myself for the ones I love. I’d rather die heroically, than be known as someone who was head over heels about someone they meant nothing to. Now get out of here. I’m sick of your attitude.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I-“ Kankuro begins. A tear trickles down my cheek to my pillow and I stifle the silent sob,” Please leave Kankuro.”

“Am I… interrupting anything?” Gaara pipes up sheepishly after brushing clumsily against the open door.

“I was just leaving. She fell back asleep.” Kankuro huffs out. I can hear him stand and a clamp against clothing, I’m guessing patting Gaara on his way out. Thin plastic ruffles against the bedside table as Gaara sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed,” it’s not a cactus, but flowers. I heard you like camellias. That’s what Temari told me anyway. A million of the finest flowers couldn’t express my gratitude for you Y/N. I once thought it was pointless to talk to others while sleeping, but I find this comforting. I left a note in the flowers for you… so you know they were from me. Temari left you flowers too.”

I listen, frozen as Gaara spills out jumbled words. He sounded nervous even. But I didn’t dare move. After Kankuro, I wasn’t in the mood to face anyone with a tear stricken face. But Gaara continues on,” Kankuro can be abrasive, i hope he didn’t force you back to sleep with his harsh words. I seen him cry for the first time since we were children the night of the incident. He was worried for me… worried I was about to lose someone outside of our family that I loved without being able to confess. I feel like I just did, in a way… but you aren’t awake thankfully. Otherwise this would be really awkward.”

He finally trails off, and I can feel his weight shift. I quickly close my eyes as he leans down towards my face before he backs away bashfully,” that would be rude. I could never take advantage of my desires while you lay unconscious. I would want us both to remember the feeling of something as simple as a forehead kiss.”

He sits straight again, deciding to raise my IV riddled hand to kiss that instead,” thank you, Y/N. Truly.”

I Hope he doesn’t look back to my face as it quickly heats from my neck up at the intimate touch. My eyes decide to flicker against the adrenaline of my racing heart regardless, fluttering open to gaze upon his paler than normal face like a deer caught in light in the dead of night. He drops my hand anxiously and stands quickly, brushing his disheveled jacket back to tidiness and coughing,” Y/N- I-“

“Gaara… I would like nothing more to experience something as simple as a forehead kiss with you.” I giggle out weakly. He shuffles forward awkwardly, bending down tightly and internally fighting with himself before finally placing a ghostly soft kiss against the middle of my forehead. My hand catches his jaw before he can move away, causing him to freeze yet again as I sit up,” I nearly died saving you… I think I might deserve a real kiss for that at the least.”

I meant it as a joke, but he slowly leans in, brushing a gentle hand through my hair as my hand travels smoothly against his jawline, settling below his ear to cradle his head. We take it slow, looking in to his wandering orbs and down to his rose tinted cheeks. Finally landing on his slightly puckered lips that wait nervously. I bite my lip and nod as encouragement for us both. His kiss is soft, barely touching until I lean further in. His other hand finds its way around my waist to steady himself. I’m sure he hasn’t taken a breath and force myself to pull away. Gaara stares blankly at me, eyes wide open and cheeks becoming an even more furious shade of red. I see his chest rise and fall before he swoops back in, coming back for an even deeper kiss.

“Y/N, i brought you some flowers, I’m sorry I was rud- I’m gonna go.” Kankuro coughs out awkwardly, dropping yet another bouquet of flowers in the doorway and sprinting down the hall screaming for Temari. Gaara pulls away and sheepishly stands to place the bouquet Kankuro had dropped at my side,” I should go after him. I’ll be here tonight when you’re discharged to make sure you safely return home… I saved what I could.”

The memory of Shukaku’s tail plummeting across the row of houses that included mine pops back in my head. I distract myself and look over to the bedside table. A glass vase sits with vibrant sunflowers and a little paper placard

You survived. ~ Temari

short and sweet, the way we always conversed. I look down at Kankuro’s recklessly picked Iris’s

I trespassed to get these for you. I’m sorry I’m mean sometimes ~ your second favorite

He was possibly my third favorite after this mess, but he still held a place in my heart with his effort. Lastly, my eyes focus in on the largest bouquet. Full of stark white, vibrant pink and deep red camellias. I search for the placard, but find a folded note deep inside the petals in the center. I unfold it slowly and hold my breath.

To the ones we get can’t yet admit our personal feelings towards, we cherish them in flowers and small gestures such as a night time stroll. Your strong will and heart overshadows the most beautiful flowers in these lands. Any flower you pass here on out, is a symbol of my dedication and undying love I hold for you. ~Gaara

My heart skips a beat, and a tear drops down my cheek. I wipe it away as a stupid grin plasters itself across my face. The most troubled man I’ve met, happens to also be the most poetic.

Hours pass, filled with long unblinking moments of staring at the wall and struggling to put on clothes until finally a soft knock announces Gaara,” if you’re ready, I’d like to walk you home.”

I nod with a toothy grin, attempting to stand. The cast around my foot causes me to fall forward as Gaara catches me effortlessly. He lets out a soft chuckle and scoops me up from behind my legs,” I suppose I’ll be the one doing the walking.”

“I can manage.” I wince out as he adjusts me closer to his body,” I can’t miss our nighttime walk. It’s been lonely without you.”

“I’ll go wherever you take me.” I yawn, quickly tiring and looping an arm around his neck to curl in to him. He places one last kiss against the crown of my head and turns to walk out,” I’ll gladly lead you to whatever your heart desires.”

I smile and let the tiredness take over with the calming motions of his steady walk. This man could lead me to insanity, and I’d still cross over any obstacle to follow him.

#Gaara #kazekage gaara #gaara x reader #gaara fanfic #gaara sabakuno #gaara x y/n #gaara imagine #gaara fluff #gaara x you #gaara of the sand #sabaku no gaara #naruto fan fiction #naruto oneshot #naruto imagines

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umbrify · 6 months

Text

Wip Wednesday! Today, I’ve got a snippet of one of @made-nondescript and I’s longest standing AU’s, the fWhimmy Mer AU

There’s someone else at the docks.

He hadn’t noticed until he made it most of the way down the narrow path, the hardy desert shrubbery obscuring his view. But, there’s definitely someone else here— looks like they’ve gone for a swim? They’re right near the end of the twin set of docks— if he could even call them that, at this point— and he can just barely catch the flashes of movement through the gentle waves.

And, Jimmy supposes, it can’t possibly be that unusual, though he’s never seen someone else here before. But, well, that’s not about to stop him, really. He trudges down the rocky beach regardless, the full moon overhead lighting his path.

—

fWhip spends a lot of time here, at night. The quiet waves lapping at the shore, and the sky’s reflection in the water… it’s peaceful. Relaxing. He enjoys it. Good for a late night swim by the coast. Might even find something good here to take home, if he’s lucky.

What’s not so relaxing, is that someone else has just thrown themself down on the docks, huffing loudly.

Not exactly what fWhip had in mind, for tonight. Well, too late to leave now, he’s already been seen.

“Uh— hey man…?” fWhip says cautiously.

The man heaves a sigh, blond hair falling into his eyes as he rests his tanned arms on his knees, white sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Hey,” the man says, “long night for you as well, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” fWhip pulls himself partly out of the water, using his arms to prop himself up on the docks. “What’s, uh— you wanna talk about it?”

The man sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just— it’s a lot of work, you know! So many things came up today, and—“ he throws his arms in the air, “I can’t be everywhere at once!”

fWhip’s brow furrows slightly, confused. What exactly this guy is talking about, he can’t say for sure. But… asking him to clarify doesn’t really seem like the correct move here, fWhip thinks.

“Yeah, I get you,” he offers slowly instead.

He can’t say he finds himself in a situation like this often— or ever, really.

Gem’s not gonna be happy.

He shakes his head lightly— problems for future fWhip, he figures. Luckily, it seems like this stranger isn’t paying him much mind.

“And it’s just—“ the man leans back, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I know Joel was busy too, I get that. But I wish he could’ve— I dunno! Helped a bit more?”

fWhip tilts his head to one side, letting out a questioning hum.

Joel?

“It’s not his fault, really. I’m not mad. He was busy,” the man waves a hand in the air idly, “now that we’re in the dry season, he’s got a lot of planning to do, improvements and whatnot— I get it. I really do. It’s just—“ he cuts himself off with a groan.

fWhip can’t help but feel just a little bit… baffled, by this whole thing. New day, new experience, he supposes. He figures it’s best to play along, just in case.

He does sink a little bit lower into the water, though. Just in case.

“And, you know,” the man continues, “I was in the office all afternoon, doing— might I say, a ridiculous amount of paperwork, how could there possibly be so much—“ he exhales sharply. “I had other things I wanted to do. The horses needed to be brushed today. He didn’t even brush the horses.”

“He didn’t even brush the horses,” fWhip echos. “That sucks, man.”

Horses…? Like… seahorses? And he brushes them?

“But,” the man speaks quickly, “Pix needed my help, and it’s not like I’m gonna say no— it needed to be done anyway— it wasn’t gonna get done on its own!”

A strong gust of wind blows over from the ocean. The man shivers slightly, tugging his sleeves down. fWhip draws his arms closer to his chest, one hand reaching up to fiddle absentmindedly with the gold chain around his neck.

“It’s not like I had anything better to do, but I had things I’d rather have been doing, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah no, I feel you,” fWhip says.

What in the world is this guy on about?

“It feels like this day’s been a week long, at least,” the man grumbles, pulling a hand across his face, “and I can’t sleep, but I feel dead tired anyway.” He laughs, dryly. “What a scam, right?”

Now, that, fWhip understands. “I’ve had days like that before, for sure,” he agrees, “it’s… rough.”

That day may as well have been a century long, for all the difference it would’ve made. Oli’s shouts for help, and Joey— gods, Joey… splinters of some sort of wood embedded into his skin, blood trickling from each wound, staining the water around them a sickening peachy red. He'd never seen anything quite like it before. He never wants to again. fWhip blinks quickly, exhaling a sharp breath.

And after all that, to be told they had to leave…? Could barely even wait for Joey to recover before they had to go— and it’s not like they’d ever leave him behind, no. They had to go with him.

Maybe if he’d been there, or if they’d been quicker, maybe… maybe Joey wouldn’t have been hurt. He doesn’t know. fWhip shakes his head. Not the time.

“I’ll get over it,” the man mutters, seemingly oblivious to fWhip’s blank, faraway look. The man rests his chin on his hands as he pulls himself into a sitting position, sighing softly.

An uneasy quiet rests over them as the man stares blankly out over the ocean, stars shimmering in the water’s reflection. fWhip’s eyes briefly dart away, out towards the sea.

Maybe… would he notice if I—

“Oh, I’m Jimmy, by the way,” the man— Jimmy, says suddenly, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before?”

—

“Uh—“ the man in the water stutters, “I don’t uh— don’t get out much, you could say?”

“Don’t get out much, huh?” Jimmy muses, casting a brief glance at the man, who’s sopping ginger hair obscures most of his features. He’s able to catch sight of a single golden chain around the man’s neck, glinting softly in the moonlight as he twists it between his fingers. “Did I ever catch your name?”

“It’s— uh—“ the man’s eyes dart out towards the ocean before snapping back to Jimmy’s face. “It’s fWhip.”

Jimmy hums a noncommittal note, looking back over the ocean, waves lapping gently against the docks. He rests his head fully onto his arms, eyes drooping slightly.

Jimmy takes a sort of comfort, in the quiet. Wind rustles softly through the trees, casting ripples across the water. He takes a slow, deep breath, letting his shoulders relax. It’s awful nice down here, what with how the dense shrubbery dampens any ambient sounds from the town nearby. It’s peaceful, even with the company.

Of all nights he’d find someone else here, he reckons tonight would make the most sense. Can’t blame anyone for wanting to take some time away from it all— he knows he sure needed it— and these docks, despite their age, have always been nice this time of the year. He runs a hand across the old planks, picking idly at a small patch of moss growing into the wood.

Honestly, Jimmy finds he rather doesn’t mind the company at all. Makes it a bit less spooky here, at night, and the guy seems nice enough.

He is dreadfully tired, though. Perhaps he ought to head back soon. Still plenty to do tomorrow, after all. Really, his time spent here could’ve been much better spent elsewhere— either sleeping at home, or even just getting a bit more done.

Always more, isn’t there?

fWhip clears his throat.

“I think I’m gonna head out now,” he says.

“Yeah, alright, see you later man,” Jimmy mumbles, not looking up.

A soft splash, and then, silence, once more. Jimmy blinks slowly. He really better make his way home, too, before he’s too tired to get back up that trail without tripping over his own feet.

Or, maybe five more minutes wouldn’t hurt. The sound of the waves lapping against the shore is almost a bit hypnotic, and Jimmy finds himself spacing out for a moment longer, staring blankly out towards the sea.

Wait.

Jimmy sits up suddenly, whipping his head around behind him, before sharply turning back to the water. The dock next to him is dry, save for the faint wet imprint of fWhip’s arms on the far side. He stands.

Where did that guy just go?

He can’t see any sort of water tracks across the docks— and there would’ve been, right? That guy was in the water the whole time, surely there would’ve been.

And why was he in the water anyway, this late at night?

And who was he?

Jimmy rubs his eyes blearily. Perhaps he’s more tired than he realized. Surely he’s just— he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what to think. He shakes his head, making his way back up the path into town.

He’ll think about it again in the morning.

#fWhimmy mer au #empiresshipping #umbrify writes #empires smp

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izzielizzie93 · 1 year

Text

High School Sweethearts Part 2-J Burrow

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

College! Joe Burrow x Reader

Summary: There's nothing like coming home for the holidays

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: None, some angst and fluff

This one is long & there will definitely be a part 3! Thank you to everyone who liked, shared, and commented on part 1 :)

-------

I’d be lying if I said moving to Baton Rouge was an easy decision; but I would also be lying if I said it didn’t feel right the moment I stepped into my dorm. I had gone earlier than most; because on top of becoming a Tiger, I had also made the LSU cheer team.

I ended up waiting a day to respond to Joe’s text, choosing to send an emoji of a Tiger and a thumbs up in lieu of actually having the courage to say anything else.

I unblocked him on everything and added him back as a friend shortly before graduation. We both knew we were mutuals again; but he never liked my new posts. It was morbid curiosity that had me scouring his Instagram and being pathetic when asking friends if he posted on snap.

I mostly did this late at night when I couldn’t sleep, afraid of my dreams. Sometimes I’d wake up after dreaming that Joe hated that I’d followed him to Ohio State and it would end with him breaking up with me and asking me to transer. Other times we’d be happy together and he’d be telling me he couldn’t wait to marry me after graduation.

Both dreams felt equally horrible when I woke up in my cold dorm, hundreds of miles away from him.

Eventually, the dreams subsided as fall term began and life got hectic just as I’d predicted it would. I grew very close with two fellow cheerleaders, Sasha and Emily, and they were great distractions.

Of course, I’d gotten drunk about a month into school starting and spilled everything to them. I had opened up about some details of my life; but always stopped myself because it felt too personal to share with people I’d only known for a couple of months.

Luckily, my word vomit didn’t scare them off and they helped me stop with my frantic scrolling of Joe’s pages and they even came over and stayed the night when I felt I was going to have bad dreams.

—

In the month leading up to break, I had been dreading going home. I was hoping everyday that LSU would have a bowl game that weekend; but it was scheduled for the week after and we were all cleared to go home for break.

I’d fallen back into the habit of stalking Joe online and nothing seemed to point toward any new girlfriends; but I still hurt my own feelings each time I clicked on his page.

“So, Y/N are you excited to be going home for Thanksgiving?” Emily asked as she sat on my bed, watching me pack. “Absolutely, I already have friends texting me trying to make plans for every second and I know my mom is going to protest and want to keep me home.” I felt myself smiling at the thought of being with everyone again.

“What about-” I turned to glare at her before she finished her sentence. “I mean you know he’ll be there. You might see him.” Sasha piped up from her own side of the dorm. While I was happy that Sasha had become my roommate after the summer, there were times where I wish she hadn’t.

“I know and I plan on being cordial. I’m going to treat him like an acquaintance and avoid him as much as possible.” I shrugged. Sasha and Emily shared a look and I did my best to ignore them before excusing myself to take a long shower, hoping Sasha would be in bed and Emily would be gone when I got back.

—

Despite burying myself in schoolwork, the day to leave for Ohio felt like it came too quickly. I was doing my best to stay positive and remind myself that I didn’t need to worry about Joe, I had so many people I wanted to see.

Once I’d landed and spotted my parents waiting for me, all thoughts of Joe left my mind. Seeing my mom cry wasn’t anything new; but seeing my dad tear up had me crying.

They peppered me with questions the entire drive home and wanted to know everything about school, cheer, and my friends. I’d kept my mom in the loop, talking to her on the phone every week; but it wasn’t the same as being there. She and my dad had tickets to fly back with me and take a vacation in New Orleans before coming to see LSU play.

—

Avoiding Joe was easy for the first few days of the trip; but then I was invited to a Bonfire party out at Oakley’s Ranch. Everyone who was home for the holidays, and those who’d never left, were going to be there and I didn’t want to miss out.

“Wow, Joe is going to go insane when he sees you.” My friend Sarah gasped when I walked out to her car. “Shut up, this isn’t for him.” I glared, getting in. She rolled her eyes, knowing I was lying through my teeth. I did want Joe to see me and not be able to find a good reason why he ever let me go.

I had on black jeans that hugged me in all of the right places, a black spaghetti strap crop top with a v neckline, black thigh high boots that I’d stolen from Sasha, and a bright red leather jacket. I’d curled my hair and done a smokey makeup look to match my dark aesthetic and I had on a bold red lip color.

“Is that Joe’s favorite perfume?” My friend Kasey smirked as she got into the car next. After what felt like the longest car ride ever, the taunting ended as we pulled up next to the all too familiar Oakely barn.

—

A couple of hours had passed and I was happily buzzing, dancing and singing along to songs with friends I hadn’t seen in months.

I was so into dancing that I didn’t see a certain blonde haired blue eyed man walk in; but he saw me. “Holy shit, Joe is staring so hard.” Sarah slurred, pulling me in close. I let my eyes wander and I smirked when I caught Joe’s eye.

I downed the rest of my drink and excused myself to go outside to get air. I walked once around the barn and on my second trip, Joe was leaning against one of the walls. As I was about to pass him, he reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him.

Despite being in heels, I still had to look up as his 6”4 figure dwarfed me. “Can I help you with something?” I asked. His eyes bore into mine before he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to my lips.

---

@lh4455 @dessxoxsworld

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joeburrow x reader #joe burrow fluff #Joe burow lsu #Joe burrow angst

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triforce-of-mischief · 10 months

Text

Over and Done

Summary: After Legend is sedated and treated, Warriors feels guilty about what he did. Time lends a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on.

Word count: 1000

AO3

Warnings: brief mention of triggering words/procedure

Reblogs > Likes!

For better or worse, the army camp was much quieter at night. Any injured soldiers had been tended to and plans for the next day had been made by the commanding officers, so most of the camp’s inhabitants were taking the opportunity for some well-deserved rest. Legend was among them, his sound sleep unaffected by the events of the previous day.

Warriors, on the other hand, was wide awake. Though the camp was far from silent, it was peaceful enough that Warriors was finally alone with his thoughts. They weren’t particularly pleasant thoughts, and the rustling of the tent flap was a welcome distraction.

“Hey, Sprite,” Warriors said instinctively.

A voice that was much deeper than the one who had answered to that name during the war said, “Lucky guess. It’s been a while since I’ve heard that one.”

“What are you doing up so late, old man?”

“Same as you, I’d guess. Our veteran gave us quite the fright today.”

Battle-worn hands smoothed over smaller, bruised knuckles. “I’d say that he gave himself the biggest fright.”

The older man hummed as he eased himself down to sit beside the captain. “Care to elaborate?”

“He…” It felt wrong to speak for Legend, but the vet had said that his phobia was on a need-to-know basis. Warriors knew that Legend trusted Time, and Warriors needed somebody to talk to. “He’s afraid of needles. It’s really bad. The medics aren’t trained for this and I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if I hadn’t intervened. The kid was caught in a panic attack, Time, and the medic just ordered some soldiers to restrain him so they could inject him with a sedative. They didn’t know that he has trauma from physical restraint, they just saw a disobedient patient and treated him as such.”

Anger simmered below the surface, making Warriors’ voice shake as he continued. “And I wasn’t there. He was scared and he needed me and I was almost too late. I promised him that nothing would happen before he was ready, that I would be there for him… and I was so close to breaking that promise.”

“But you didn’t,” Time pointed out.

“…No, I didn’t,” Warriors agreed. “I was able to intervene and buy him some more time. That’s all he needed, was a minute to calm down but the medic just wouldn’t leave him alone. I did my best to negotiate with them while keeping an eye on Legend because he was close to hyperventilating at every sudden move. I held him and… gods, Time, it felt like holding a little kid. I know that he’s practically an adult and a veteran hero in his own right but when he’s scared, he just makes himself so small.”

Legend seemed small even now, prone and bundled in bandages and blankets. One limp hand fit easily in Warriors’ own as the captain gave it a gentle squeeze that he knew he couldn’t feel.

“He didn’t want the medic anywhere close to him after what they did,” Warriors said, remembering the stubborn glare that Legend had given them. “But he was stalling, and he needed to be treated.”

Time frowned. “I’m sure it was hard to go against his wishes. Sometimes we can’t make everything perfect for the greater good-”

“No,” Warriors interrupted. “I would never betray Legend’s trust like that. He didn’t want the medic to touch him, so I didn’t let them.”

Time paused, glancing down at the boy who was sleeping off the sedative in his system. “Then how…”

“I did it,” Warriors whispered. “I told Legend to wait and keep his eyes closed so he didn’t- so he didn’t have to see me holding the syringe.” He swallowed hard, willing the tears to stay back. “Time, he was terrified. I was scared too, it took everything I had to keep my hands steady because I was worried that I would be too slow or angle the needle wrong… I did everything I could, and I still hurt him.”

Time lifted his arm, a silent invitation that Warriors could decline if he wasn’t up to it. The captain needed this, however, and gladly let the old man pull him close, leaning against his side. Was this how Legend had felt, clinging to physical comfort through a whirlwind of anxiety?

“You didn’t hurt him,” Time said, entirely too sure of the truth he spoke. “You caused pain, yes, but it took an incredible amount of trust for him to let you do so. From what you described, Legend could have been even more hurt if it was the medic holding the syringe. You helped him.”

Warriors closed his eyes, unwilling to see the face that had recently held so much fear and pain, caused in part by him. “I did both. I helped him and I hurt him. I’ll never forget the sound he made while I injected the drug…”

He could still hear an echo of it; a high, keening whine that rose to a heartbreaking sob. Warriors had felt like he couldn’t hug him fast enough.

“What if he wakes up and he doesn’t trust me anymore? I know that isn’t how he felt after the stitches but this is different, this time I made it worse-”

“Wars.” Time’s stern tone pulled Warriors just enough out of his spiral, and he let the old man speak. “You singlehandedly freed Legend from restraint, gave him time to prepare, and didn’t let him face his fear alone. He’s lucky to have you, and I’d be surprised if he doesn’t feel that way.” A fond smile split Time’s face as he continued, “Now, he probably won’t say as much because we all know how our veteran feels about showing his emotions.”

Warriors chuckled, running his thumb along Legend’s wrist.

“You did your best,” Time said, resting his hand on Warriors’ and Legend’s intertwined. “I’m proud of you both for refusing to give up on each other.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #linked universe warriors #lu warriors #linked universe legend #lu legend #linked universe time #lu time #fable writes #overcome #WHAT IS UP YALL BETCHA THOUGHT YOU SAW THE LAST OF TRUST FALL ARC TM

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iprobablyshipit91 · 1 year

Text

Twenty Minutes or Less

Genre: fluff / smut

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 900

Warnings: mostly just smut and a few swears! Please only read if you’re of age and comfortable.

I read a similar idea to this once for another fandom that has since been deleted. It was one of my fav drabbles and always makes me sad it’s gone. I know I won’t do it justice but it felt appropriate for Dean and I was in the mood to write something almost Valentine-y so I thought I’d give it a shot. Not exactly romantic but I hope you enjoy anyway!

SPN Masterlist

You flop on to the couch with a sigh and you just feel numb. It says a lot, you think ruefully, that you aren’t particularly sad about the fact your boyfriend of just over a year has dumped you the day before Valentine’s. You’re more annoyed about the fact you got him a fucking amazing present that cost more than you wanted to pay but it was too perfect to pass up. And if you’re truly being honest with yourself you’re also annoyed that he beat you to something that had been niggling in the back of your mind lately anyway.

A groan leaves you involuntary as you press your hands over your eyes hard. You feel like such a fool.

Before you can stew too long, you hear keys jingle in the door followed by a loud slam and heavy footfalls down the small hallway.

“I have the pizza, a fuck ton of chocolate and plenty of alcohol as requested. Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong, Sweetheart?” Deans gravelly voice reaches your ears before he finally appears, dumping his bags on the kitchen counter along with his keys and making his way around to you. “Why the S.O.S?”

Dean Winchester was a lot of things; handsome, protective and loyal to a fault to those lucky few he considered family and you found yourself firmly in that category. You’d been best friends as teens and when you’d both found yourself looking for a roommate a few years ago it made logical sense for you to move in together. He was a dream to live with too; just tidy enough to not be annoying, cooking plenty of mouthwatering meals for the two of you and always ready with the junk food and alcohol on occasions such as this.

And maybe, just maybe, you had a teeny tiny crush on him. Who wouldn’t? The man looked like a Greek god. The point was it had been years now and nothing had ever happened between you, so you were pretty sure it never would.

“Mick dumped me,” you sigh heavily, seeing the look of annoyance twitch across Deans face at the mention of your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. They had never got on somehow.

Within minutes the little coffee table is full of your evening feast and you have your legs propped up on Deans lap as he listens to you lament about the last few hours while munching your way through the food.

Three beers later and you accidentally reveal to him that you have never actually had an orgasm.

Dean nearly chokes on his beer at that and you find your cheeks getting hot, wishing you could take the words back immediately.

To his credit, Dean recovers quickly, placing the bottle aside and gently questioning you until you confess that your now ex-boyfriend has never gotten you there. And, since you'd never been able to get yourself there either, you were starting to think that there was something wrong with you.

"First of all,” Dean says with a grin, his emerald eyes glinting mischievously "There's nothing wrong with you. Second of all, stop saying there like it's a geographical location."

"Yeah well it may as well be," you snap back, still feeling embarrassed and crossing your arms over your chest, "And nobody gave me the damn map to get there."

Dean raises an eyebrow at you, cocky smile firmly in place. "I bet I could get you there in twenty minutes or less.”

So here you were, stretched out on your best friend's bed, a little distracted by your own thoughts as Dean slides your jeans down your legs. You’re still worrying that you're going to end up embarrassing the both of you if this doesn’t happen, but Dean insisted that if he couldn't do it he'd do all your laundry for an entire month and fuck passing up an opportunity as golden as that.

“Hey,” you feel Deans hands on your thighs gently, as he looks up at you with concern. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

“No, I want to,” you say firmly. “I’m just…”

“Stop worrying,” Dean smiles, already reading your mind. “You’re either about to get a mind-blowing orgasm, or your laundry done for the next month. I’m pretty sure that’s a win win for you.”

A laugh bursts out of you before you can help it and you find yourself completely relaxed as Dean pulls your knees up over his shoulders and puts his face between your thighs, effectively stopping your giggle with an “Oh!”

Dean works quickly, his fingers finding your core and slipping inside you while his tongue locates your clit and starts to draw teasing figure of eights on the sensitive nub before gently sucking it.

Every so often your back arches off the bed and you feel him smirk smugly against your centre. The symphony of your low moans and his fingers slipping through your wetness seems to spur him on and you feel your grip tightening on his bedsheets.

The coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter until it finally, finally snaps and you scream, your whole body convulsing as your core clenches and your thighs shake and your toes curl.

Dean pulls his fingers out of you and you immediately feel the emptiness, whimpering at the loss. His face appears from between your legs, mouth wet with your juices. He licks his lips with a huge grin and eyes dancing with amusement.

"By my watch, that was twelve minutes," he smirks, "But let me do it again and I'll throw in the laundry for the hell of it?”

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #Dean Winchester smut #dean winchester x female reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #smut #room mates au #spn #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #iprobablyshipit91 writes #Twenty Minutes or Less

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 months

Text

The Gym Membership - Part 34 (Crosshair)

Summary: Time for some Fett-Taylor bonding time

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

Did everyone enjoy watching the Solar Eclipse? I hope it was beautiful, cause I was stuck inside. However, seeing the sky grow dark was really cool.

Anyway be safe, and for those interested, I'm working on the continuation of Not Ready.

Love oo

Warnings: Liquor, axe throwing discussion, body odour, discussion of not listening, obnoxious person, mentions of character death, slight bickering between partners, lovey-dovey behaviour, annoyance, flirting. I think that's it, if I miss any warnings, please let me know.

AO3 Link | Words: 1,294 | PREVIOUS - -> NEXT

Gym Membership Master List | Main Master List

The smell of wood, beer and sweat hit our noses like a punch in the face as our group walked in, the initial shock wore off and after a few minutes the smell wasn’t as overpowering. But it certainly wasn’t something any of us expected.

It’d been two weeks since I spoke with Mel and organized our axe throwing night, she was incredibly excited, apparently they all were.

And in honour of Avery, they all decided to wear a black crepe armband, it was apparently a tradition in the military and something that really touched my heart when Crosshair slid the armband on my arm.

“Gone but never forgotten. Avery will always be with us.” His voice was low and solemn, as he offered me a soft smile and a nod, before moving off to the side.

I wish I had thought of that but the military was always Avery's playing field. Not mine.

“Welcome guys, to Battle Axe Throwing. You guys have a reservation?” The young hostess greeted us, she was about 19 or 20 and full of youthful pep.

Mel stepped forward, talking to the young woman who greeted us, answering all her questions, before another young man walked us over to our reserved spot.

“Hey guys, my name’s R.J., short for Robert James, you can call me R.J., Rob, Robbie, Jay or James. Just don’t call me late for dinner.” He chuckled at his own joke, we joined in, laughing with him mostly out of politeness.

However, I noticed neither Crosshair, nor Hunter seemed impressed by him.

I could understand why, he looked like one of those guys who clearly spent too much time at the gym and felt that he deserved everyone’s attention just because he had a good physique.

Not that that mattered much with this group, seeing as all the guys had a good physique, but then again that made sense since they owned a gym. Actually, it was a little embarrassing, how RJ kept trying to make a point with his muscles, he even tried to cross his arms over his chest to show off his biceps, only for Wrecker to subtly imitate him with a smirk.

A few of us had to stifle the laugh that wanted to erupt at RJ's ego crashing as he looked from Wrecker's muscles to his own.

Mel, on the other hand, simply beamed with pride as she rested her head on her husband's bicep, while she gently rubbed his arm. It was adorable how in love those two were.

She told me over drinks when we first got to know one another, how they met, how it was practically love at first sight, and it made me wonder if I’d ever have that kind of spark with anyone upon initially meeting them.

“Probably needs that many names to handle all the women he’s seeing simultaneously.” Sophie whispered to Tech, pulling me out of my spiral, as I heard Tech laugh at her jab.

According to Zai, Tech was starting to open up a little more, since his wife passed away … or fiancée … I wasn’t exactly sure what their relationship was. Not that it mattered one way or another as they both had been in love, and were in a committed relationship — I couldn’t help notice how each of them found the great love of their lives.

A small spark of jealousy ignited in my heart, as the loneliness from the past several years sprang up. I pushed it aside and focused on the here and now.

“Now, how many here have thrown an axe before?” RJ held three axes in his hand as he looked at each of us.

Everyone except Mel, Sophie and myself raised their hands. It was amusing to see everyone simultaneously turn and focus on Zai for an explanation.

“What?” She asked as she looked around, “I do have work gatherings, you know. It’s not that out of the realm of possibility. We went to an axe throwing event a few months ago.” She tapped Hunter's shoulder as she focused her attention on him, her eyes settling on him with deadly precision, “And Hunter, love, why are you looking at me shocked when I told you all about that night. In detail.” She looked at him arching her eyebrow, “Were you not listening to me, when I was speaking?”

“What? No. Of course not, cyare.” He looked at all of us for help, “It’s not that … I wasn’t listening … um, it's that … it was a few months ago … I forgot.” He stumbled over his words as he rubbed the back of his neck offering a sheepish smile. He leaned closer, shifting his arms to wrap them around her waist, “You know I always listen to what you have to say.” He smiled, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, as he held her close letting out a relieved sigh.

Wrecker patted his back as he whispered, in a not so quiet voice “Good job.”

“Mmhmm.” She pursed her lips out of irritation.

RJ looked like a man caught in the middle of a lover's spat, his eyes widened, filled with fear, it looked like he was trying to find a place to hide. However, once Hunter seemed to have calmed down Zai, RJ cleared his throat and directed his attention elsewhere, “Okay… anyway. Right, so we have some pros with us, and some newbies, either way, welcome guys to Battle Axe Throwing.”

Crosshair was getting annoyed with Robert James and also being with his family. Not that he didn’t love them, but sometimes he didn’t want to be around a lovey-dovey couple or one that was at the beginning steps of a fight. Instead, he chose to tune them all out and focus on the space the axe throwing gym … warehouse … whatever it’s defined itself as, was occupying. It was a good size, there were several lanes already in use. He could see a few couples, some were very affectionate, others were on the verge of a fight. Cross tilted his head as he watched the couples.

“What is it?” Mel asked as she whispered to Cross.

“I think the saw dust and the sharp weaponry is either fuelling people’s desires or releasing their pent up anger.” He motioned towards two couples who were side by side. One couple were all over each other, while the other one was doing their best to keep their voice down.

“I see what you mean.”

Of course, there wasn’t only couples, there were even some groups of friends, but it was mostly empty. Not surprising, really seeing as how they had to drive an hour just to get there.

The one thing that had surprised him, was seeing how well Layla got along with everyone, not that it was a complete or horrible surprise, it just threw him off. Slightly. After only knowing her bitter and angry side for so long, it jarred him how easy they were able to get along once her walls came down. After the run in at the coffee shop, they had started texting somewhat regularly. Mostly talking about Avery or about workout techniques, sometimes about life.

Either way, it was nice to get to know the woman who had helped him take care of Avery for so long. He hoped rather than expected, they’d become friends at the very least.

“Alright, beautiful girl in the front,” RJ smiled as he walked up to me, trying to be full of swagger, “Why don’t you show us your first throw. I’ll just make sure you guys are all set and then I’ll leave you to it.” He smiled as he guided me to the target we would be using.

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kitkatscabinet · 4 months

Text

PROMPTS I'D LOVE TO WRITE

Credits to the following for certain prompts: @leneemusing @novelbear @creativepromptsforwriting @soulprompts @flovprompts @memesomething

FLUFF

' i don't want to spend any time apart from you. ''

'' i really need you to know that [that i love you]. ''

“ wait, you knew? “ “ you haven't exactly been discreet... “

'' so, do you... love me back, or? ''

“ do you have feelings for me or something? “

“ i think i'm falling in love with you. “

“i love it when you smile! i wish you’d do it all the time… ”

“ you can’t get rid of me that easily. i’m gonna be here every day to remind you how wonderful you are! ”

“ you know me. you… you see me. i’m never totally myself unless i’m with you. ”

“ we all have our flaws. you stayed with me in spite of mine. now i’m doing the same… ”

“ of course i remembered! i remember everything about you! ”

“ don’t make this weird, but… i saw this in the store. figured you’d like it. ”

“ whoa… hey, now, who made you cry? where’d they go? ”

“ don’t make a big deal out of this. you like hugs, right? so… here’s a hug. ”

“ um… if you don’t mind, i think i’d like a hug now. if that’s okay… ”

“You’re cute when you’re jealous”

“ the world just… feels right. when you’re with me. ”

"is this okay?" "it's more than okay."

JEALOUS/PROTECTIVE

❝ i just didn’t like the way they were looking at you. like you weren’t mine. ❞ John Mactavish

❝ you know i’m yours, right? i only have eyes for you. ❞

❝ hey, is this asshole bothering you? ❞ Dean Winchester

❝ tell me you’re mine. ❞

❝ you wanna lose a limb? beat it, fucker. ❞

for one muse to possessively kiss the other in public.

for one muse to lean into the other’s side or hug them to seek comfort from a crowd or individual while in public.

FRIENDS TO LOVERS

going as each other’s “platonic” date to a mutual friend’s wedding

agreeing to kiss each other “just to see what it’s like”

punching the guy who broke your best friend’s heart

friends and family think we’re dating because we’re always acting like a couple

sharing clothes, we're just that comfortable with each other

accidentally blurting out “i love you” during a conversation

i’m watching you date all these other people and i don't know what it is i'm feeling but it's definitely not jealousy

you're upset and disappear for a couple hours, and i'm the only one who knows where to find you (which is at the location we always hung out at as children)

one dropping hints about their feelings, the other one is completely oblivious

hearing your best friend say you’re nothing more than friends, dying a little on the inside because you wish it was more than that

family and friends constantly pointing out how compatible you are with each other

ANGST

'' i can't do this without you. ''

'' don't you dare... don't you dare say goodbye. ''

'' it's okay. '' '' it's not okay. ''

'' do you remember that song, that we always used to sing as kids? [could you...?]

'' don't you dare close your eyes. ''

'' she's not dead...! ''

'' you're gonna be okay. ''

“ can you move? “

“ why is it so difficult for you to believe that you deserve to be protected? “

“ stay close. whatever you do, do not leave my side. “ Dean Winchester

“ i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. no matter the cost. “

“They say you almost died. You left it that late.”

“ tell me it isn't true. “ “ i can't."

“ why is it so damn difficult for you to believe you’re worthy of love? ”

HURT/COMFORT

“ i don’t know how to just live. i constantly feel like i’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. ”

“ there are just too many people depending on me. i can’t rest. i can’t let them down. ”

“ every time i start to feel like things are getting quieter and i can feel safe, something bad always happens. ”

“ i’m here and i’m not leaving or letting you change the subject. now talk to me”

“ you’re important to me. you hear me? you’re important. and that’s never gonna change. ”

“ i’m not going anywhere until you get some sleep. ”

“ i want to take care of you. please, let me. ”

“ you’re a good person. good people deserve to be safe. “

“ i’m going to protect you, now. because that’s what we do for the ones we love. we keep them safe. “

" it's alright... it's okay... i'm here now. i've got you. "

" of course i came for you... it would take far much more than that to stop me. "

❝ i know i can’t protect you from everything, but i wish you’d let me protect you from the things i can control. ❞

“You’re safe. [Name], can you hear me? They’re here to help you, you need to let them help you.”

“I wasn’t –… Your doctors weren’t sure you’d wake up.”

“You.. you were so close to dying. I was scared.”

SCENARIOS/ACTIONS

Smiling at each other from across the room

Laying a hand on the other’s leg

Fixing the other’s clothes

A kiss to the side of the head

Embracing from behind

Laying your head on their shoulder

Bumping shoulders

you take their hands firmly, intertwine their fingers with yours

you repeatedly say you love them when they’re anxious/experiencing low self-worth

put your hands on lover’s cheeks, cradle their face in your hands

you get really mad when you hear someone hurl an insult your lover’s way

for sender to catch or steady receiver when receiver tries to stand up too early or to push their body past what it’s ready for

for receiving muse to not recognize sender or medical staff trying to help them, due to being drugged or otherwise disoriented – so they fight.

SECRET DATING/CONSEQUENCES

“You will cut all ties with them”

“Where were you last night?”

“ how long? ” [a confused pause] “ how long have you two been in a relationship

“ how long do you think it’s going to take before your family finds out ? ”

"If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?"

#writing prompts #x reader

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whollyfree · 1 year

Note

If you’re in a writing mood, I’d love some fluffy josh content🥺maybe you had a stressful day at work and he just takes good care of you with lots of cuddles and loving

You almost never arrived home after Josh. This was why when Josh cheesily sang "honey, I'm home," as he entered the front door, he became confused when the house was dead silent. He ventured around your shared space thinking he was going absolutely insane. How do you lose your own girlfriend?

When Josh's phone that rested in his back pocket pinged, he knew instantly that it was you.

You: Sorry, gonna be late tonight :( having a really long day

Josh frowned, wanting to hug you through the screen somehow.

Josh: No worries. I'll be here baby

He slips his phone back into his pocket and looks around, almost lost as to what he was supposed to do for the time being. He loved coming home to you. As soon as you heard his keys jingling in the lock of your front door, you were there to attack him in a hug before the two of you lost yourself in breathless kisses and giggles. Now he knew how you felt.

Sulking like a lost puppy around the house, an idea popped into his head. He smiled to himself as he formed his master plan. He made quick work of making the bed from this morning. You were already running late and so was he, so the two of you reluctantly forfeited the chore to do later.

Josh vacuumed the shared rug and the space of the bedroom, dusting and polishing the furniture strategically placed to make the room appear more open. He realized something was missing, and quickly padded to the record player before placing a Wilson Pickett vinyl upon it.

Blues music filled his senses, and he wished you were there to laugh at him as he attempted his best embarrassing dance moves. He carried on tidying up the bathroom before making his way to the living room. He readjusted the pillows and folded the blankets neatly on the blanket ladder that Karen had got the two of you as a housewarming gift.

Josh did the dishes quickly and with ease, worried that you would pop through the door before he had the opportunity to start the dinner he planned to make special for you: pasta. He had heard you request it too many times to count, but this would be the first night you would share it in your new home.

He looked like a madman, tossing an apron on and attempting to tie it as he reached for pots and all of the ingredients he needed. Ideally, Josh wanted it to be ready for you the second you walked in the door.

He knew you were past the point of exhaustion before you even stepped through the door, and when you did, you were nearly brought to tears at the sight before you.

There was Josh, stirring a pot of pesto sauce in a much too small apron, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. His cheeks were tinted an adorable pink color from all of the work he had been doing around the house.

"Hi, sunshine," his lips curve in a smile and you notice his dimple making its special appearance as you walk toward him. "I'm making that pesto you've been dreaming about."

"It smells amazing," you breathe out and you wrap your arms around him. "Hi."

"Hi," he catches your lazy smile in a kiss and you finally feel yourself relax for the first time in the day. All of the tenseness in your muscles releases as he holds you tight and parts his lips from yours. You felt like jello in his arms; partly because of your insane day and the other part was due to Josh's effect on you whenever he so much as glanced your way.

"Oh, you're tired, baby," he mumbles into your hair and you groan in agreement. You felt him chuckle into your hair before he attempts to pull away from you.

You grunt and keep him in your grip. "Just a little longer."

"Ok," he laughs. "But after this, I want you to go and take a shower and dinner will be ready the moment you're done."

"Alright," you all but whimper and release yourself from him. "Thank you."

"For what?" His eyebrow quirks up as he continues to stir the pot.

"All this, babe," you gesture to all of the ingredients (albeit) messily scattered across the counter. You give a chaste kiss to his lips and he says something to the effect of "of course." Who even knows? You're way too tired to hardly form a coherent thought.

You trudge to the master bathroom to shower off all of the stress from your day, still smelling the wonderful scent of the dinner Josh was so graciously making for you. Another smile graces your features as you take in the cleanliness of the shared bedroom and the neatly made bed before you. All you really wanted to do was envelop yourself in it, but you followed Josh's orders and showered anyway.

Following your much-needed shower, you dressed in an old ratty T-shirt and your favorite pair of Josh's boxers and made your way back to the kitchen. Josh had placed two bowls of pasta on the table as well as a bottle of wine paired with two glasses.

"Sorry, I'm a bit overdressed," you crack a joke and he chuckles.

"You look beautiful as always, sunshine," he presses a kiss to your newly blushed cheek before pulling out your chair for you.

Following dinner and a few too many drinks, your eyes are nearly closing at the table. You tried your best to remain tuned in to whatever Josh was saying, but exhaustion was taking over every part of you. He caught on quickly, and stopped himself from his exaggerated story of some prank he pulled on Jake yesterday.

He grins toward you, watching your eyes flutter closed and your head begin to fall lower as you sat in your chair. He tried to be as quiet as he could, getting up and sliding his chair underneath the table. Much to his dismay, the chair made the loudest sound possible as it scratched against the wood.

Your head shot up quickly as your eyes met his. "I'm sorry, baby, what were you saying?"

He shook his head with a solemn smile. "You're exhausted, love. Let's get you to bed."

You pouted as Josh scooped you up in his arms. Nuzzling your head into the side of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent as you nearly felt yourself drifting off again. Your eyes slightly opened as your body fell against the soft mattress, Josh peeling the comforter back and tucking it under you.

"I'll go and clean up, okay? I'll be right back," he promises, but you weren't having it.

"Josh," your voice was hardly there, but he still turns around quickly. "Please stay."

He could never say no to you, and you knew that. So, he grinned and peeled off his clothes and crawled under the comforter next to you. He pulls your body into his and releases a sigh before planting a kiss to your forehead. With your body now curled into his, you found yourself drifting off again in the safety of his embrace. You couldn't fight the sleepy smile on your face, and he saw it and smiled down at you again.

"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, baby. Promise."

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#josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #josh gvf #greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fic #greta van fluff #josh kiszka fluff #gvf x reader

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astrronomemes · 1 year

Text

TAYLOR SWIFT: SPEAK NOW STARTERS (PART II)

a collection of lyrics taken from Taylor Swift’s Speak Now album. change & alter as needed.

“It’s so quiet in the world tonight.”

“You’ve got nothing to regret.”

“I’d give all I have, honey, if you could stay like that.”

“Oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up.”

“It could stay this simple.”

“I won’t let nobody hurt you. I won’t let no one break your heart.”

“I just realized everything I have is someday gonna be gone.”

“They just dropped me off.”

“It’s so much colder than I thought it would be.”

“I wish I’d never grown up.”

“I don’t want to grow up.”

“It was enchanting to meet you.”

“I was enchanted to meet you.”

“Don’t you let it go.”

“I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew.”

“Who do you love?”

“My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again.”

“These are the words I held back.”

“Please don’t be in love with someone else.”

“Let’s hear the applause.”

“I never saw it coming.”

“I underestimated just who I was dealing with.”

“She underestimated just who she was stealing from.”

“She’s not a saint, and she’s not what you think.”

“There is nothing I do better than revenge.”

“Sophistication isn’t what you wear, or who you know, or pushing people down to get to where you want to go.”

“They don’t teach you that in prep school.”

“No amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity.”

“Do you still feel like you know what you’re doing? ’Cause I don’t think you do.”

“I guess you really did it this time.”

“Wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything, and everybody believed in you?”

“It’s all right. Just wait and see.”

“Who you are is not where you’ve been.”

“You’re still an innocent.”

“Life is a tough crowd.”

“Who you are is not what you did.”

“Time turns flames to embers.”

“You’ll have new Septembers.”

“Every one of us has messed up, too.”

“Minds change like the weather.”

“Today is never too late to be brand-new.”

“I can’t trust anything now.”

“Something’s made your eyes go cold.”

“Don’t leave me like this!”

“I thought I had you figured out.”

“Something’s gone terribly wrong.”

“You’re all I wanted.”

“I still mean every word I said to you.”

“I’m wishing he was you instead.”

“You told me you loved me, so why did you go away?”

“I don’t know how to be something you miss.”

“I never thought we’d have our last kiss.”

“You’re showing off again.”

“I’m not much for dancing.”

“I’ll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are.”

“Hope it’s nice where you are.”

“Remember this moment.”

“Long live all the magic we made.”

“One day, we will be remembered.”

“Long live all the mountains we moved.”

“I had the time of my life, fighting dragons with you.”

“What if, God forbid, fate should step in, and force us into a goodbye?”

“If you have children someday, and they point to the pictures, please tell them my name.”

“I had the time of my life with you.”

#rp meme #roleplay meme #rp starters #roleplay starters #dialogue prompts #rp prompts #rp memes #roleplay memes #sentence memes #sentence starters

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clown-friend-gt · 1 day

Text

Octomer: Chapter One

Based on this post by @gt-squirrel

The Human's name is Sabrina, the only name ever given to the mer is Spots

This story will likely be only 3-5 chapter long, and probably won't be finished before the end of MerMay. I wanted to get this chapter out before the end of the month, though.

Hope you enjoy!

************************************************************************

I remember when my grandfather and I used to be close. It seemed I’d spent almost every summer at his home by the sea. That was, until we had our falling out. Then things were never the same.

That’s why it shocked me when he left me the house in his will. It seems he too held those memories of the time we spent together here in high regard. I just wish we’d had the chance to reconcile before he died.

It wasn’t a hard decision to pack up my life and move here. I work remotely, so distance wasn’t an issue for my job. I never really felt like I belonged in the big city; it was never really my home. When I arrived here, I meant to spend more time getting unpacked. I ended up spending a lot more time tracing my fingers across the old furniture, losing myself in memories. It was almost sundown by the time I started to make any progress getting settled in.

As it started to get dark, I decided to quit for the day. My mind still buzzed with activity; I didn’t even think of sleeping. Instead, I went outside. Grandpa’s house stood on a cliff, and I remembered that I used to like to go out and sit by the edge. Only when Grandpa wasn’t looking, though. He worried to no end that I’d end up falling off of the edge into the ocean below.

I let my feet kick off the edge and listened to the sound of the ocean crashing against the rocks. I leaned back, resting my weight on my palms. Then I closed my eyes. As I did, a cool breeze kicked up and caressed my face, bringing with it the salty smell of the sea. I felt something tugging at my heartstrings. An old French song about the sea that my grandpa had taught me. He had tried to teach me the language too, but I never had the talent for it. But his song always stuck with me.

“La mer…qu’on voit danser…” I sang to the breeze. Softly at first but picking up volume as I went along. The song brought with it memories of my childhood, an afternoon where my grandpa and I danced together while this song played on the old record player in the corner. I remembered how we laughed as we stumbled through the steps of a dance we had made up.

My eyes stung, but not from the wind. I sang louder, trying to fight off the coming tears. But pouring my heart into the song only fed into my emotions.

“La mer…a bercé mon cœur…pour la vie.” I finished the song with tears pouring down my cheeks. Grandpa used to like to tell me I had the voice of an angel, that I could’ve easily made it big as a singer. I knew after plenty of rejections that he was only flattering me. But it still felt like a nice way to remember him.

I wiped the tears from my face. I needed to distract myself. I breathed a long sigh and laid down on my back, my feet still dangling from the edge of the cliff. It never ceased to amaze me how beautiful the stars were out here away from all of the lights. You never got views like this in the city.

I tried to find constellations I could recognize. I traced my finger from the stars of the Big Dipper to the Little Dipper, and then to the North Star. Just like Grandpa taught me…

I felt tears pricking at my eyes again.

“Think of it, Sabrina,” he used to tell me. “Late at night, no land for miles, the glassy sea the only landmark. How do you possibly find your way home?”

“A map. A compass. Sonar?” I teased him, after hearing this story for the millionth time.”

“No, no, no, Mon ange,” he chuckled. “In the places beyond reason, where the tools of men fail, you must always rely on what does not change.”

He pointed upwards. “The stars. It is what my father taught me, and what his father taught him. It is the only way.” Then he took my hand in his and guided it along the path that led to the North Star.

“You’ve told me this a hundred times, grandpa,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“If it will lead you home, I’d tell it to you a hundred times more.”

A tickle in my feet pulled me out of the memory. It felt like something cold and wet was brushing up against them. I sat up and leaned over to look. But in the dark, it looked like nothing was there.

It’s just my mind playing tricks on me, I thought. I gazed at the horizon where the sky met the sea to try and take my mind off of it. Then I felt it again, only this time, on my hand. I looked over to see something snaking its way up the cliff, its tip laid on top of my hand. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

I yanked my hand back, but the thing followed it. It felt around like someone trying to find something in the dark. It found its way to my waist and snaked around it. I tried to pull it off of me, but it latched on with sudden strength. I shrieked.

Then it pulled me off the edge of the cliff.

My feet kicked against empty air, and without the feeling of the cliff underneath me, terror gripped my heart. I looked down to see the ocean lapping at the coast almost a hundred feet away. The only thing keeping me from plummeting into it was the huge tentacle wrapped around my waist.

If it weren’t for the faint starlight reflecting off of it, the tentacle might have blended perfectly into the darkness. I tried to locate its source, but I lost track of it once it met the water. But I wouldn’t be in the dark for long.

A decent distance away from where the tentacle emerged, something disturbed the water. The top of an enormous head breached the surface, followed by humanlike shoulders and a torso. It rose up, up, up, until it loomed above even the tremendous height the tentacle held me at.

Water rolled off it in waves and crashed into the sea below. As I watched, the dark phthalo blue of its skin shifted subtly in color to match the sky behind it. Little bits of light dotted its skin like stars. My heart hammered in my chest as I stared at it. Christ, this thing was huge. I’d never seen a mer this size. What did it want with me?

Its eyelids slowly rose, and then I was gazing deeply into its gigantic golden eyes. I was petrified in its gaze, and it regarded me carefully. There was some emotion in its eyes that I couldn’t fathom.

The tentacle brought me closer. “Wait—wait—wait—” I sputtered as it did so. More words died on my tongue as its lips pulled upwards, baring its teeth.

The teeth were long and thin, like needles. They sat close together, mismatched in length. The longest ones were probably as long as my arm.

Cold sweat rolled down my forehead as I came to a horrible realization. Is it going to eat me?

I struggled against the creature’s slimy grip, no longer caring about the plunge below me. I needed to get away, and I needed to get away now. I grunted and strained against the tentacle with all of my might, but I couldn’t get away. The thing only tightened its grip ever so slightly, trapping me for good.

As it brought me closer to its mouth, the futility of the situation began to dawn on me. “Please,” I plead with it. “I don’t want to die.” It didn’t respond, it just kept bringing me closer. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see my own death approaching.

See you soon, Grandpa, I thought to myself, mournfully.

I waited for the sharp pain of its teeth to hit me. Instead, I felt something wet and warm smoosh into my face and the entire upper half of my body. Confused, I opened my eyes again, only to see myself being pulled away from puckered lips.

I hung in the air, stunned. Even as the wind rushed past me as it brought me away from its face, I had no reaction. My confusion didn’t fade as it brought me above the cliff again and gently set me down several feet from the edge of the cliff.

My nerves told me to run, that I’d been granted a second chance and I had to take it. But curiosity kept me rooted in place. What was this thing doing, and why?

It’s toying with you! The survivalist part of my brain screamed at me. But some part of me kept me standing there, waiting to see what it did next.

I heard the sound like a rushing wave as it approached the cliff. I took an instinctive step back. It brought its arms up to the cliffside and folded them on top of it, then plopped its head on top of its arms. Then it grinned at me with that jagged smile again.

“What the fuck,” I whispered.

A loud crackling sound came from its throat. The strange motion of its Adam’s Apple as it did so caught my eye. It made a few more sounds, then looked at me expectantly, as if it was saying something.

“I don’t—” my voice caught, and I cleared my throat. “I don’t understand,” I told it, speaking a bit louder.

It raised its head, leaning away. Then it began to hum. The sound rumbled through me. I was mystified by the feeling.

Then I realized that I recognized the tune it was humming. It was humming to the tune of “La Mer,” the song I had been singing earlier.

I listened for a few more seconds before joining in at the end of the phrase it hummed, “Des reflets changeants…sous la pluie.”

It made a chirping sound that carried what sounded like excitement as it leaned in again.

“You liked the song?” I asked it. Is that what brought it here? Then why did it…

I tried to take in what I was seeing. As it lay against the rocky cliff, the skin touching it shifted colors to match the dark gray. But there were a few marks on its skin that didn’t change color with the rest of it, remaining a dull white, like scar tissue. I recognized one of the scars on its shoulder.

I looked back up at its face, looking it right in the eye. Those big, golden eyes. I knew those eyes.

“…Spots?” I asked hesitantly. His eyes lit up in recognition. He made that happy chirping sound again and flashed that big, toothy grin.

For a while, I was speechless. All I could think to say was, “You’ve changed so much since the last time I saw you.”

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P.S. If you're curious, the song Sabrina sings in this chapter (and a few more times in the future) is La Mer.

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t story #g/t writing #g/t community #sfw g/t #g/t fluff #OC-Sabrina #OC-Spots #mermay #mermaids #merfolk #sea monster #merman #mermaid

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