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wholoveseggs · 3 months

Note

Can you do a smut story about y/n teasing elijah at a party then later on it leads to elijah being dominant but also Sensual/passionate in bed

Whine

gif credit --- > @forbescaroline {this gif is so hotttt}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You make the mistake of testing Elijah's patience and he puts you in your place.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @ashloring & anon, I hope you don't mind that I combined the Ideas ♡♡

~I have so many requests {over 30!!!} so at this point I'm just going with whatever I fancy... thanks for understanding & don't hesitate to send me more {I love reading all of your ideas}~

5k words - Warnings: smut, soft? dom!elijah {the most dom i've written thus far}, tiny bit of choking, lilttlllee bit of squirting, mild bdsm, Elijah using his belt instead of his tie, jealousy, possessiveness, wasting wine...

Your boyfriend is a true gentleman, sweet and attentive, always putting your needs before his own, but as much as you tried, you couldn't get him to be rough with you in bed. You understood why, the trauma in his past made him afraid to hurt you. But you completely trusted him, so when he finally relented to your begging and he was only half as rough as you'd been wanting, still holding back, you knew you needed to do something.

There was a solution to this, one you had been considering for a long time.

Make. Him. Snap.

The first step was to be a total tease while making sure his brothers could see, flaunt your body in front of them, make him jealous, that would set the fire burning in his veins.

The second step was to touch him in all the places that you know he's sensitive and push his boundaries. Turn him on until you break his perfect sense of control.

Third was to make him chase you, you'd run away and see how far he'd go to get you, then you'd let him catch you.

And tonight you were putting the plan into action.

The dress you chose was strategic, it was skin tight and black, with a scoop neckline, it ended at mid thigh. The dress itself would have looked modest if it weren't for the fact you weren't wearing any underwear or bra. Your ample breasts being held up by the tightness of the dress, your nipples poking through ever so slightly. The heels you were wearing were stiletto and made your legs look long and lean. Your makeup dark and smokey around your eyes, with a bright red lipstick to draw attention to your mouth. Your hair styled in big loose curls.

All in all you looked sinful, and you were about to go to war.

Klaus is the first to notice your attire, he pulled you in for a hug, a wholly uncharacteristic move, he then took a step back and looked you up and down, a smirk playing on his lips.

"My my my, aren't you a vision." He said, his voice was a low growl, his gaze lingered on your low neckline.

You grinned, you knew how this game was played, you'd had the practice.

"Thank you Klaus, I was hoping you would think so." You say, flashing him a flirty smile.

"So glad you could make it to my little party," He says, his hand on your waist pulling you closer to him, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body.

"Oh I don't think anything associated with you could be described as little," You tease, running a finger down his chest.

"Is that so?" He asks, his lips inches from your own, his voice is low and dangerous, but he still has a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Elijah was watching the entire exchange with pure rage, the way Klaus was touching you, the way you were touching him.

The worst part was that the two of you weren't even touching sexually, just small caresses to his chest and face and he was behaving as though he wanted to devour you whole.

He didn't know why you were acting this way, usually you were so polite, well mannered, respectful, but right now you weren’t behaving.

The fact that you were doing this in his family home was insulting, the fact that it was his brother whom you were behaving this way with was infuriating.

When you caught his eye and winked at him his stomach dropped, you were doing this on purpose.

Klaus saw the exchange between you and his brother and he grinned, he didn't mind being a pawn in your fantasy, the fact that you were willing to flirt so outrageously with him was an ego boost, not to mention the way it was making his brother furious.

So this is a game?

Well, Elijah never lost at a game, and he wasn't about to start now.

He turned his attention back to you and gave you a cheeky smile, "my brother doesn't crack easily, good luck, you're going to need it." He said, giving you a peck on the cheek.

You smiled back at him, "thank you, I'll remember that."

With that you turned on your heel and left Klaus' side, you walked right past Elijah, making sure your fingers trailed across his chest as you passed him.

He watched your ass as you walked away from him, then he noticed his brothers gaze lingering on the same area.

"Niklaus," He hissed.

"What?" Klaus asked, feigning innocence.

Elijah gave him a look that could melt the paint off the walls, which made Klaus laugh.

"Come on brother, can't you see she wants to play?" Klaus asked.

Elijah walked away before he was forced to resort to violence. As much as it infuriated him to see you behaving this way he had to admit that it was arousing, you looked so beautiful and he couldn't wait to show you exactly what he thought about that dress, but not yet.

Elijah had decided to play your game, he had been watching you all night, and every time you spoke or danced with another man, he felt his temper rising, the way other men touched you, looked at you, made his blood boil.

So he bided his time and waited, sitting down in the lounge with his siblings and observing you as you went from group to group, laughing and flirting, touching people and letting them touch you.

You took him by surprise when you approached him, sitting down next to him to talk to Rebekah.

Your proximity to him, and the way you casually rested your hand on his leg was very distracting, but he stayed calm, even though every time your hand would move an inch higher his heart rate would increase.

"Do you think Klaus would mind if I stole some wine from the cellar?" You asked Rebekah, eyeing Elijah in your periferie, a challenge in your voice.

"No, I'm sure he wouldn't," She answered, smiling.

"Wonderful, I'll be right back," You say, getting up and walking away, exaggerating the sway of your hips, knowing Elijah can't take his eyes off your ass.

He watched you disappear down the corridor, he knew exactly what you were doing. The stubborn part of him wanted to resist, but his body had other ideas.

He found you in the wine cellar, bending over, reaching for a bottle, the fabric of your dress stretched tight across your backside. He took a moment to admire the view, then he closed the door, the sound making you turn around.

"I was wondering how long it would take you." You said, smiling, placing the bottle of wine on the counter in the middle of the room.

He stalked towards you, his expression blank, his movements smooth, when he reached you he grabbed your chin and tilted your face up towards him.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" He growled, his gaze raking over your body.

You widened your eyes, looking up at him and giving him the most innocent look you could manage, "I was just getting a bottle of wine," You say, the tone of your voice was soft, sweet, a stark contrast to the look in your eyes.

Elijah narrowed his eyes at you, a dark smirk on his face, he wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of falling for your game, not here anyway.

"Well then, I will leave you to it," He said, dropping his hand from your face, turning around and heading for the door.

"Elijah," You called after him, you hadn't expected him to turn you down, you had planned to have a lot more fun than this.

"Yes?" He replied, pausing in the doorway, looking at you expectantly.

You hopped up onto the counter, your dress riding up your thighs as you spread your legs. Exposing the most intimate part of yourself.

"Don't you want a taste?" You asked, the tone of your voice was low and suggestive, you bit your lip, a sly smile on your face.

"Of the wine?" He asked, the question was rhetorical, the answer was obvious, but he wasn't going to cave so easily.

You nodded.

"Why not, a glass would be lovely," He replied, walking back over to you and picking up the bottle of wine.

He uncorked it and poured two glasses, then he handed one to you, he stood between your legs, maintaining eye contact as he sipped the wine, giving you nothing but a cheeky grin.

You were shocked, and a little annoyed, this was not the reaction you were expecting. You put your glass down and touched his chest, looking at him with wide doe eyes.

"Are you not thirsty?" You ask, moving your hands lower, stopping when they reach his belt.

"Oh, I am," He replied, taking another sip.

You were determined to get a rise out of him, so you slowly slid your hands underneath his shirt, the muscles of his abdomen were hard, and the way he was looking at you made a fire ignite in your core.

"And are you not going to quench your thirst?" You asked, your tone was soft and sweet.

He sighed and set his glass down, taking hold of your wrists, pulling your hands away from him.

"That is enough." He growled.

He was still holding onto your wrists, the grip was firm, and the look in his eyes was hungry, a fire burning behind them.

You smirked at him, pleased with the reaction you were finally getting.

He stepped closer, his chest pressing against yours, his face was inches from your own.

"You think that you can beat me? You can't," He whispered.

His mouth was almost touching yours, the proximity of his body was driving you wild, his lips grazed your jaw, then he leaned in and licked the shell of your ear.

You were shaking with anticipation, the warmth of his breath on your skin was intoxicating, you were so turned on.

He took your legs and brought both feet up, planting them on the counter, spreading them apart.

Then he stepped back, his gaze lingered on your center.

"Look at you, so wet, so ready for me," He purred, running his hands up the inside of your thighs, stopping just short of where you wanted him to be.

You bit your lip, trying not to moan, his hands were warm and soft, and you couldn't wait for him to touch you.

You tried to bring your legs together but he held them open, his strength keeping you exposed, vulnerable, completely at his mercy.

He grinned, "oh no darling, you don't get to hide from me."

With one hand he reached up and pulled down your dress, revealing your breasts, they bounced slightly when he released them, his eyes darkened as he took them in.

"Stay just like this," He said, his voice low and dangerous, the look in his eyes was pure predatory lust, his pupils were dilated and his breathing was heavy.

You were frozen in place, your legs spread, your dress pulled down, your breasts on display. You watched him take a step back to get the full view, and he groaned at the sight.

He undid his belt, slowly pulling it through the loops, holding it in one hand as he stepped back in-between your legs.

You were starting to regret your plan, you had expected Elijah to react, but you didn't think he'd be so dominant, his control and self restraint were unshakeable, and the fact that he could hold himself back even now made you ache for him, desperate for his touch.

You didn't say anything, you couldn't, your mind was a fog of arousal, and you didn't trust yourself to speak. You just looked up at him, trying your best to not cave under his unrelenting eye contact.

He leaned forward, his lips ghosting over yours, his nose brushing against yours, his breath fanning your face.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, his tone was soft, but there was an edge to it.

You nodded, your breathing was labored, your heart was beating wildly in your chest.

"Say it," He commanded, his voice was harsh, and his gaze was piercing, boring into you.

"Elijah, please," You begged, the look on his face made you feel like you were losing control of the situation, and you couldn't help but comply.

"Please what?" He asked, his hand caressing your thigh.

"Please, fuck me," You breathed, you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, your whole body was aching for him, and you could feel how wet you were.

"So filthy," He tsked, "you have no idea what I'm going to do to that mouth."

The thought of Elijah fucking your mouth sent a jolt of arousal through you, the image of him using your throat while he looked down at you with those piercing eyes, made you whimper.

"Well? Get on your knees." He ordered, gesturing for you to move.

You did as he commanded, dropping to your knees and looking up at him expectantly, you could feel the wetness pooling in-between your thighs.

"What a good girl," He cooed, his hand stroking your cheek, the touch was soft, gentle.

"Take my cock out," He ordered, his voice calm and controlled.

You reached up and unzipped his trousers, he was wearing black boxers underneath, the bulge in them was prominent.

You hooked your fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, his erection sprang free, and you took a moment to admire him before taking him in your hand, your thumb gliding over the head, smearing precum over the tip.

He closed his eyes, and you saw a shudder go through him, he let out a soft groan and his hands went to your hair.

You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around him, his cock was warm and thick, and you couldn't help but moan as you started to bob your head.

You hollowed out your cheeks, using your tongue to swirl around the tip, you were taking him all the way down, your lips touching the base of his shaft.

"That's it," He groaned, his hand on the back of your head, holding you in place.

You sucked and swirled, licking the underside of his cock, the taste of him was intoxicating, and the feeling of him in your mouth was exhilarating, knowing that it was you who made him feel this way.

His breathing was ragged, his grip on your hair tightened, and his hips started thrusting, forcing his cock further down your throat, his balls slapping against your chin.

You let out a soft hum, the vibrations making him moan, his eyes squeezed shut. You knew he was close, his breathing was ragged, his thighs were trembling, and his moans were growing louder.

You pulled off of him with a pop, you had to tease him a little bit, he wasn't the only one who could be controlling.

He was panting, his cock throbbing, aching to be inside of you. He opened his eyes, they were full of hunger and lust.

And that's when you knew you won.

He grabbed your arm, pulling you up, his fingers digging into your skin, it was painful, but you liked it. He pushed you back against the counter, his mouth on yours, his hands all over your body.

You couldn't believe the effect you were having on him, his kisses were hot and passionate, his hands roaming over your body, his teeth biting your neck.

You were lost in the feeling of him, his touch, his kisses, the heat of his body pressed against yours. He roughly turned you around, wrapping his belt around your wrists, his breath tickling your neck.

He pulled the skirt of your dress up, exposing your ass, the cool air making you shiver, he was so close, and his hands were so warm, you couldn't help but moan as he caressed you, squeezing the cheeks, his nails digging into the flesh.

He then turned you back around, his eyes raking over your body, his gaze stopping at your breasts, his expression was one of desire, and something else, something darker, something dangerous.

He lifted you up, and sat you down on the counter, his fingers trailing over your collarbone, his thumb brushing over your exposed nipples.

"These have been teasing me all night," He growled, pinching one of them.

You gasped, arching your back, pressing your chest against him, wanting more.

He kissed you again, his tongue plunging into your mouth, exploring every inch of it, his hand on the back of your neck, the other gripping your hip.

You were so caught up in the kiss that you didn't notice him reach behind you, grabbing a bottle of wine and uncorking it.

He pulled back and grinned at you, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Elijah, what are you doing?" You asked, looking at him suspiciously.

"Oh darling, I'm just going to have some wine." He said innocently.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, "no, Elijah, don't."

But it was too late, he poured a little down your chest, the cold wine making you shiver, and the sight of it flowing over your breasts was incredibly erotic.

His mouth followed the trail of the wine, his tongue licking and sucking every inch of skin, the feeling of his tongue on you made you moan, his lips and teeth working their magic.

He then moved to your nipple, licking the wine off, his tongue swirling around the peak, his teeth gently nipping at it, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

You were a moaning mess, the sensation of him lapping up the wine and sucking on your nipple was so intense, your breathing was heavy, and you were squirming in strong hold.

He took the other breast in his hand, massaging it, rolling the nipple between his fingers, the stimulation was driving you crazy, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Elijah, please, I need you," You moaned, the pressure in your core was almost unbearable.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He asked, a smirk on his face.

You glared at him, he was enjoying this, making you beg, his ego getting bigger by the second.

"I said, I need you." You repeated, emphasizing the words, hoping he would take pity on you.

He chuckled, "and why should I give you what you want?"

"Because, if you don't, I'll go find someone else," You challenged, giving him the most serious look you could muster.

His hand went to your throat, his grip was gentle and his eyes twinkled in amusement. He knew you would never do such a thing, and you knew it too.

"Oh really? Who would that be? Niklaus? Rebekah? Kol perhaps?" He asked, his tone mocking, and his smile growing wider.

You bit your lip, knowing you were beaten, but you had to try, he was being such a bastard, and the last thing you wanted to do was cave.

"No, but maybe I'll just go back to the party and find someone else," You countered, your voice steady, but your resolve was starting to crumble.

His other hand crept up your thigh, his fingers slowly grazing your center, the light touch was maddening.

"Is that so?" He purred, his fingers brushing over your clit, making you gasp.

You didn't reply, your eyes closing, you could feel him leaning down, his breath hot on your ear, "do you want to know what I would do to you if I found you with someone else?" He growled, his voice low and seductive.

His fingers were now circling your entrance, and his teeth were scraping over your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"Elijah, please," You whined, your breathing heavy, your hands pulling desperately on the restraints.

"Answer the question," He commanded, his hand squeezing your neck.

You gasped, the pressure from his fingers was just enough to be pleasurable, and you could feel your resolve crumbling.

"Yes, tell me," You breathed.

He hummed, his mouth sucking a spot on your neck, the pleasure from the contact was sending shockwaves through your body.

"I would rip out his heart and feed it to him," He whispered, his lips moving against the shell of your ear.

His words were sending a rush of excitement through you, his possessiveness was incredibly sexy, and the idea of him going so far as to kill for you was so fucking hot.

His fingers finally entered you, sliding into your dripping cunt, the stretch was delicious, and the fullness made you moan.

"Here is what's going to happen," He began, his tone serious, "if you aren't in my bed, naked, in three minutes, I'm going to assume that you decided to be a brat and find someone else to fuck. Is that understood?"

You nodded, his fingers curled inside of you, hitting a spot that made your vision go white.

"Say it," He ordered, his hand tightening around your neck, the pressure was almost enough to make you black out.

"I- I understand," You gasped, your body starting to tremble.

In one swift motion he pulled away and freed you from your restraints. You were still coming down from your high, breathing heavily, watching him fix his clothes.

"Well?" He asked, his voice full of authority, "you only have two minutes and thirty seconds left," he smirked.

You hopped off the counter, and smoothed down your dress, not caring about the fact that there were streaks of wine down your chest.

You made your way back towards the ballroom, not even glancing back at him. You were trying your best to act inconspicuous, but you had very little time and the compound was big.

You half ran, half walked towards the staircase, careful not to draw any attention. When you reached the top of the stairs you were panting, you knew you only had a minute left.

You hurried to his room, throwing open the door, and rushing inside, not even bothering to turn on the lights.

You quickly removed your dress and climbed on the bed, the cool sheets a welcome sensation. You laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling, the anticipation was killing you, and the thought of what he was going to do to you was making you ache with need. You weren't surprised that he bested you, he was a Mikaelson after all, and they never failed to live up to their reputation.

Your breath hitched when you heard the door open, you knew it was him, and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence.

"My my, look at you," He murmured, his voice smooth as silk.

He approached the bed, his eyes roaming over your body, "so beautiful, so perfect."

You bit your lip, his words were so sincere, and his tone was so tender, you couldn't help but melt a little.

He undressed himself, taking his time, his eyes never leaving yours. The moonlight was shining through the window, casting an ethereal glow on his skin, highlighting his muscles.

He was breathtaking, his body was perfect, lean and strong, every inch of him was pure masculinity, and the sight of him naked, standing at the foot of the bed, his cock erect and throbbing, was enough to make your mouth water.

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you, his eyes boring into yours. You felt so small under his intense gaze, his pupils were blown, and his breathing was ragged.

His mouth descended on yours, his kiss was soft and gentle, his lips moving slowly, tasting and savoring. You pulled a bit on his hair, wanting more, and he complied, his kiss deepening, his tongue exploring your mouth.

His hand wandered between your legs, pushing two fingers inside you, his palm pressed against your clit. He moved his arm up and down, hitting your g-spot with each motion. Your legs began to shake, and your body arched into his, the feeling was amazing, you clung to his arm, nails digging into his skin. He increased his speed, wetness pooling around his fingers, the sounds of his hand inside of you were lewd and obscene.

"Eli- wait" you gasped, on the verge of exploding, your hips bucking wildly, your nails raking over his back, drawing blood.

"Are you going to cum for me?" He growled, his fingers moving faster, his hand pressing harder against your clit.

"Yes, fuck, Elijah, yes," You cried, his name a mantra on your lips.

"Good girl," He cooed, his lips pressed against your ear.

His words sent you over the edge, and your orgasm hit you hard, your vision going white, your body convulsing.

Your walls clenched around his fingers, the feeling was unbelievably intense, and his arm continued to pump inside of you as you gushed all over his hand. He chuckled as you coated his fingers and sheets, clearly pleased with himself.

You were trembling, breathing heavily, and your eyes were still squeezed shut.

"You made a mess of my bed," He said, his voice full of amusement.

"Fuck you," You breathed, your chest heaving, "I hate you so much right now."

He grabbed your hips and pulled you underneath him, his hard cock rubbing against your pussy.

"Is that so?" He mused, his lips grazing your neck.

You pushed on his chest, trying to create some distance between you, but he just grabbed your arms and pinned you down, grinding his cock against you.

"Eli-," You breathed, squirming beneath him, his grip on your wrists tightening.

He hummed, easing himself into you, filling you up with one swift thrust, his cock stretching you, the burn was delicious. You moaned, your walls clenching around him, his hips were flush against yours, and the fullness was overwhelming.

He began to pound into you, his pace so relentless that you were pushed further up the bed with each thrust, the headboard banging against the wall, the sound was echoing throughout the room.

"Where are you going?" He teased, his voice full of lust and mischief as he grabbed your hips and pulled you back underneath him, the new angle allowing him to penetrate deeper.

You cried out, the pleasure was immense, and your legs wrapped around his waist, your fingers were digging into his chest, leaving angry red scratches on his skin that healed instantly.

"Fuck, Elijah, yes," You moaned, his name falling from your lips, your eyes were rolling back into your head as your orgasm crashed over you, stars danced behind your eyelids, your whole body was trembling, and your mind went blank.

You tightened around his cock, and he let out a primal growl, the sound sending a rush of heat to your core, his thrusts became erratic, and his pace quickened, his balls slapping against your ass, the sound obscene and erotic.

He slammed into you one last time, spilling his seed deep inside you, the feeling of him filling you up was incredible.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck, the feeling of his weight on top of you was comforting and familiar, and the sensation of his skin pressed against yours was soothing.

You ran your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp, his hum of approval making you smile. He rolled the both of you over so that you were lying on his chest, his arms wrapped around you, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Are you okay? Was that too much?" He asked softly, kissing the top of your head.

You responded by kissing him slowly, and when you broke the kiss, you nuzzled your nose against his.

"It was perfect," You murmured, smiling sweetly, your eyes shining.

"I'm glad, my darling," He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone. "You made quite a mess of my bed," He teased.

You turned red and buried your face in his chest, your body had never done that before, and it was humiliating.

"Sorry," You mumbled, his chest rumbling with laughter.

"These are Egyptian cotton, do you have any idea how difficult it is to get them clean?" He teased, his lips curling into a smirk.

You rolled your eyes and tried to push yourself off of him, but his arms held you in place, his expression was mischievous.

"You can't leave, I have to clean you up," He grinned, his hands trailing down your back and over your ass, giving it a squeeze.

"I can clean myself," You huffed, trying to break free from his grasp, but he easily overpowered you.

"Nonsense, allow me," He said, his hands gently grabbing your wrists and holding them, "don't move."

He left a trail of kisses down your body, his tongue making its way along your thighs, cleaning up the wet mess that was dripping from you.

His touch was so tender, and his movements were slow, he seemed to be savoring the taste of you, the feeling was so sensual.

"You thought I was done with you?" He purred, his tone was laced with arousal and mischief.

"The party has only just begun,"

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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milkzoro · 6 months

Text

should i save her? i wnna be saaaaved

🎬✧ portgas d ace x fem!reader

was it a coincidence? or were you soulmates? interesting how the two of you always manage to end up together… fireman!ace saves your panties from a house fire. unfortunately there’s no smut in this, crazy i know. mostly fluff and ace being a cutieeeee. i love him lots & don’t think he would fuck you for the first time being intoxicated… that being said, fic contains// drinking, a lil smooch, cuddles, ace being a lil tease, all that…

☁️ 𐙚 . ˙ 𖧧 ₊ ˚ 🐇

“shit shit shit!” you panicked, trying to put out the burning fire with a measly cup water you had on hand, unfortunately, that only seemed to cause it to burn brighter. the water evaporated almost immediately, and with every passing second, it got worse. the clothes that were messily piled up on your dresser were now fully inflamed, and the wood took on enough heat to finally catch fire.

“oh my fucking god? where’s my goddamn phone!” there was no reason to try and put out the fire yourself, you’d only end up getting hurt. ‘cursed candle’ you scoffed while scurrying around your smokey room looking for your phone. even if it was your favorite scent, you knew you should have thrown out that stupid candle your ex got for you.

after flipping through the blankets on your bed, you found it, immediately you dialed the fire department. “hello? hello! yes! please there’s a fire at my house my address is. . .” you’d hope they’d make it there soon, the smoke stared to suffocate you to the point where you didn’t know if you could make it out, chemicals filled your lungs and it was getting harder to breathe. . .

. . .

you felt strong arms carrying you, woodsy musk and smoke filled your senses. the man placed you down in the back of the fire truck with plenty of water before rushing back into your fire-filled house to see if there were any more casualties to look out for. luckily enough, you lived alone.

shortly after, he came back to you. he tore off his headset and revealed his soft, freckled face. you were taken aback, he might as well be your knight in shining armor for saving you, he had stains of soot covering his cheeks but still looked so pretty. . .

“i couldn’t save them all but. . . i managed to get a few.”

he held up a couple pairs of your cute lacy panties, blood rushed to your face once you noticed what they were. you were quick to snatch them away—your face fell hot with embarrassment. it really didn’t help that the man was attractive, you couldn’t even look at him. “oh! it’s fine, thank you…” the tension was thick and awkward, the man starred at you trying to comfort you on your losses.

“we managed to put out the fire, miss. your room is pretty much fine, but the dresser didn’t quite make it. . . i saved what i could.” he sighed—holding up some more of your lounge wear. he seemed sad he couldn’t save everything but you were grateful nonetheless that he did everything he could.

“do you have somewhere you can stay while we get everything cleaned up?” he peered at you, cute freckled face and dark eyes held your gaze.

“uhmm yea, i do. thank you.”

“the pleasures all mine, get some rest and please, no more candles.” he let out a hefty laugh before giving you back your delicates. yea, definitely no more candles.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

it’s a couple days later and you’re back in the comforts of your now, fire-free home. living alone was super easy, you got to do whatever you wanted whenever you wanted. if you didn’t wanna do something, that’s perfectly fine. movies and snacks all day, and that’s usually how it always went but today you had something planned.

about a week ago you had made an appointment to get your ears pierced, you favorite tattoo shop was having a flash sale on all lobe piercings so you thought it would be best to schedule ahead.

the studio was surprisingly quiet for a weekend, a few teens who were there for the flash sale and one other person, but he was faced down and getting a tattoo stenciled on across his very sculpted back.

“oh hey! i know you.” his head perked up once he heard the chime of the studio door, he watched as you stepped inside.

‘please god, tell me it isn’t him. fuck, it’s totally him.’ he smiled warmly at you, kind eyes curling up and he showed all his teeth—how could you not forget such a cute face.

“no you don’t.” you were quick to answer, but he retaliated.

“um yeah… yes i do! i saved you from that fire! don’t you remember? all your panties? sorry i couldn’t save ‘em all.” his lips quirked up slightly as he still felt bad, but his non-filtered reenactment of the events earned some confused reactions from the staff and other customers that happened to be in earshot.

“did you have to bring that up again? i told you not to worry about it, ‘m just happy i have my house back.”

“can’t i make it up to you? and i never got your name. . . ‘panties’~” he snicked at his nickname for you, seeing you get flustered made it all worth while for him. he enjoyed seeing your petrified face as he egged you on.

“shut up, and shouldn’t you be staying still? lay your ass back down.” you gestured to the table he was perked up on, the artist seemed annoyed at his movements.

“ahh, you’re right sweetheart. but, your name? then i’ll promise to let you be. . . ‘panti—’”

“y/n! it’s y/n. happy?”

“very.” he smirked your way and laid back in position effortlessly once he got his answer. the artist sighed and got back to work.

you rolled your eyes trying to suppress the smile that was creeping on your lips, he was crazy. with being a fireman you thought it was unprofessional to bring up such topics in public, but you had to admit—you kinda liked it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

you thought you might have missed it, his long raven locks swaying as he made his way towards you, even in your drunken state, you knew it had to be him. why does he keep showing up at the most random places? this time though, he was fully determined to make his way to you and just talk. the distance was small but he stumbled all the way over. soon, you were greeted with the pretty fireman.

“wow you’re really drunk right now, aren’t you?” you couldn’t stop the giggles as you held the edge of his shoulder to keep him upright and standing, he swayed lightly with the music in the background as he sang incorrect lyrics softly to you.

you couldn’t help but smile, he was silly like this, maybe it was the drinks in your own system catching up with you but he looked really good right now.

“no mmm not. . . you’re jus really blurry-”

he let out a few of his own laughs, touching and talking with you for sometime, he really liked you.

“y/n.” he held you tight, catching himself on you before he could fall.

you were surprised he remembered your name, i’d been about a week since your last encounter at the tattoo shop. that day, he had introduced himself as ace. portgas ace in fact, lead role in the fire department in his city. he made sure to make that a know fact in hopes to impress you.

“can you take me home? think i’m too ddrunk.”

you blatantly agreed, he looked a mess. and besides, you did owe him, technically. your arm snaked around his making your elbows meet, but he shook you off. he mumbled something you couldn’t quite make out. but instead, his big hands stumbled to find your own, interlocking your fingers and he squeezed them tightly as to say he’s ready to follow you.

his simple actions had an effect on you, holding hands always seemed to be more intimate rather than something simple, like a kiss. his warmth made your tummy do flips, and his big muscles—his strong hands and arms were so close, you felt so small next to him.

you tried to take your hands from his but he whined. he missed your touch.

“wait, let me call order an uber. i’ll be fast i promise.” you found the closest car to come pick the both of you up, you just needed his address. you tried to hand him your phone, “can you type in your address? here take this.”

he groaned again. “mmmuhggg y/nnn—can’t we just go back to yours?? can’t type.” as the words slurred from his lips, they curled into a smirk. little shit, you knew he was playing it up a bit. fuck it—it’s late and it’s cold, you were ready to leave. now, you just have a friend coming with you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

as you stepped into the coldness of night, you and ace stumbled through the streets to meet with the driver—his natural warmth kept you from shivering as he held you so close. little touches and sweet laughs were shared as you climbed into the backseat, ace stumbled along behind you, tripping on the doorstep as he made his way to sit next to you. the driver glanced back, seeing giddy intoxicated couples wasn’t out of the norm for him, the driver found the two of you endearing.

the car soon became a temporary haven for you, ace’s laugher sounded heavenly as it meshed with the purring of the car engine.

his rough hands found themselves attached to your hips, slowing rubbing up and down. with every passing second, you couldn’t help but grow attached to him. you’ve never met some like him. he was just so different from any other guy you’ve met, from his endless teasing to his charisma—how you always managed to end up together was a mystery.

he snuggled up next to you getting real close—he muttered in your ear, “wanted to tell you you looked pretty tonight,, mm watched you for awhile but was a little nervous.”

a blush crept onto your cheeks hearing his sweet nothings, ‘he was nervous?’

you felt his warmth radiating as he leaned in closer to you. his breath tainted with the smell of alcohol as his lips were millimeters from yours, but the car suddenly came to a stop. the driver interrupted just as they were about to touch. your stomach sank, you were ready to know what they felt like.

the driver turned around, oblivious to the romantic tension, and broke the silence, “here’s your stop folks, thank you and have a safe night.”

you both exchanged a look, a mixture of frustration and amusement, before gathering your things and stumbling out of the car. he soon drove off, leaving you standing on the sidewalk with a shared understanding. you hurried to get your keys and unlock the door.

as the door creaked open, you ushered him inside, the atmosphere filled with unspoken anticipation. once the door closed behind you, the playful glint in his eyes returned, and with a teasing smile, he quipped, “ahhh alone at last~ now, where were we?”

how cliche.. but that seemed to be very on brand for him—cute.

without waiting for an answer, he closed the gap and pulled you into his firm chest. this time, there were no interruptions—just the warmth of a long-awaited first kiss from your knight in shining armor.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

he’d be such a cute bf stawp

#one piece x reader #portgas ace x y/n #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fluff #one piece fanfiction #portgas d ace smut #one piece fluff

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cinnbar-bun · 5 months

Text

Ruler of the Heart (Crocodile x Reader)

Summary: Crocodile is not a man who gives up easily. He’s not someone who just submits to others. He has to be in control.

That is, except, when it involves you, in which he is a helpless victim to you.

AKA: Crocodile is a big softie for his wifey.

Notes: Female pronouns for reader, MENA! Crocodile, MENA! Reader

Rating: G

A/n: YEAH THIS ONE IS FOR ME <333 VERY SELF INDULGENT!!

Read on my AO3 here!

It doesn’t take much to make his eyes linger on you. Despite his stoic outer appearance, the ex-Warlord is hopelessly obsessed with you. All it takes is a snap of your finger and he immediately turns to you.

You are his oasis in the desert, the water that flows past his lips to save him from the overwhelming thirst he has. And to you, he is your king, your protector and provider who grants every wish of yours like a mythical genie.

His power, both physically and politically, is overwhelming and dominating. He doesn’t need to do much to make others comply. A simple command, a flick of his hand, and all issues crumble into dust.

But when it comes to matters concerning you, Crocodile can’t help but fall victim to you every time. From the dark, smokey eye makeup you wear, a bat of your lashes, or the pouting of your lips that are colored with the lipstick he purchased for you. From perfectly manicured nails, to gorgeous skin that glows from the oils you wanted, to the scent of oud in your hair from the bakhoor. You enchant him with your beauty, your voice, and your attitude.

Crocodile can’t help but think your attitude is the most beautiful part of you.

You walk like you’re a million dollars. Wherever you walk, everyone is immediately struck by you and your confidence. Your heels click against the floor as he stands beside you to purchase you another gold necklace for no reason other than he felt like. The grin on your lips is worth far more than the necklace he just bought you, he thinks.

You are so naturally charismatic and social, that others can’t help but be taken in with you. Crocodile, who wasn’t too fond of socializing, was taken aback by how you managed to make even Mihawk talk more during a meeting. But that’s just who you were. A laugh here, a silly anecdote there, and all were listening to you.

Crocodile also adored your loyalty. You’d go through hell if it meant saving him, and the thought warmed his heart in a way few things ever could. When other men tried to approach you, you blew them off with a snarky response and a show of your ring. When his colleagues or subordinates were pushing their luck, you stepped in to take control.

You were a true Warlord’s wife, in every sense of the word. You were the wife men could not even dare to dream of or even hope existed. You were his number one supporter, his partner, and closest, most trusted confidant.

But much like the ocean, while you were beautiful and strong, you also had your moments of devastation. Ah, you were passionate- but so, so jealous.

“Habibi, eyes over here,” you’d warn with that sickly saccharine tone of yours that meant he was pushing his luck. “Perhaps I should take those eyes of yours so they never wander again.”

Whether that was an empty threat or a promise didn’t matter- Crocodile loved it. “Ah… you know my eyes are only ever on you, my love. You already take my eyes,” he’d say the last part in his native tongue.

You were stubborn and didn’t take any disrespect- not even from him. Even when he was getting snappy, you never looked at him in fear or shrank back.

“I said-“ He snarled, raising his voice at you after a long day at work.

“No, no, no. Don’t raise your voice at me,” you cut him off with a wag of your finger.

“Don’t tell me what-“

“No. I’m not one of your men,” you placed your hands on your hips. “I did not marry you to be treated like your men. I’m your wife, not some servant.”

Well, he was angry at the time but he wondered if you knew how pretty you looked when you lectured him. He nodded, and then enveloped your smaller hand in his large, functional hand.

“I’m sorry, habibti,” he remorsefully said, kissing every knuckle on your hand. “I’m sorry. I was stressed.”

You kissed his nose back and ran a hand through his gelled, slick-back hair.

“We can talk about it over dinner.”

“Hm? What is for dinner?” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Kafta bil-sanieh. It needs a few more minutes to bake,” you say then kiss him back.

“Gods, I love you,” he sighed happily, before lifting you in his arms. You smirk.

“Then you’ll love what is for dessert.”

“Which is?”

“Basbousa~!”

His smile widens as he peppers your face with kisses.

“Your words are honey on my heart,” he chuckles, showering you in more affection.

“You’ll bury my heart,” you reply back, and he twirls you around like a lovesick teenager.

It is times like these where he can’t help but let his boyish feelings of love and affection come out. No matter how hard the day is, no matter how shitty his attitude, he was always ready to hold, spoil, and adore you. He loved and worshiped you on his knees as his queen. His beautiful, radiant queen who managed to reinvigorate his dried-up heart full of life.

His heart beat only for you, only knowing what love was because of you.

How you could so easily tug at his heartstrings like an oud. How you could make this invincible, stone-cold man melt with a simple touch or a smile. How you held his life in your hands, and how he happily let you do so. Only you were the one who could make him so weak and mushy as if he were a young man again.

But his favorite part of when you were together was at night.

At night, the scent of your perfume lingered in the air and on the sheets. He could only sit and marvel at you as you removed your jewelry and makeup from your face while in your nightgown. While to you, it was just a nightly routine, to him, it was like seeing a masterpiece being made. Your makeup was wiped off with a touch of rose water, and you made sure your hair was taken care of. You noticed his stare from the mirror.

“Yes, habibi?” You curiously asked.

“Nothing. I’m just looking at a treasure,” he responded, tapping his cigar on the ashtray on his bedside. He hears your satisfied chuckle.

“You flatter me too much.”

“I don’t think I flatter you enough,” he exhales a puff of smoke. “Words cannot do you justice. Even if I give you the world, it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Your smile is contagious, obviously enjoying his dramatic proclamations of his love for you. You finish with your routine and settle into bed, and he inhales the scent of your perfume.

You rest your head against his broad and muscular chest, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head. You’re careful to not irritate his left arm as you listen to the pounding of his heartbeat.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

The sounds that entered your bedroom from the window varied night by night. You’d commonly hear the winds blowing, with the leaves of the date palm tree rustling gently from it. Sometimes the chatter of people would make its way to you. But he could ignore those, in exchange for hearing your soft breaths as you slept. You looked so peaceful and happy when you fell asleep. You’d nuzzle closer to him, and he’d keep his arm tightly wrapped around you. He’d think to himself how he never thought he’d be here. You were never something he imagined would exist. But after you entered his life, you were his dream- his every fantasy made physical. From the best of times to the worst of times, you were there.

There would never be anyone else he’d rather serve as “husband” or “lover” to, than you. There would never be another who he could happily give his heart to and bow for. Only you. Because only you could ever be the ruler of his heart.

#one piece oneshots #one piece x reader #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #crocodile x reader #one piece

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crosshairlovebot · 2 months

Text

welcome home / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: you return home to find hunter in the shower, and he shows you just how much he missed you while he was gone.

word count: 4,036

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. heavy scent kink. plot only if you squint. p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). slight overstimulation. lots of kissing. slight body worship. cr*ampie.

the need to write a part two to that hunter smut a couple of weeks ago was so strong there was no avoiding it. the hunter feels gripped me so hard they're shaking me around like a rag doll. i have never written a full smut sequence like this before, so please bear with me if it's not as perfect as i would like! i'm doing my best!

although the previous part (which is not essential to read to understand this) was written with gender-neutral pronouns, this part is with a female reader. i wanted to make sure i could actually write a scene like this since i've never done it before. gender-neutral smut is something i'd like to try in the future once i feel more comfortable writing in this style :)

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You rode the slightly odorous lift up to your apartment floor, the doors sliding open slowly once it arrived. The hallway light flickered every minute or two as you approached the door to your humble abode, your body aching after working more overtime than you should’ve stayed for. Yawning, you pressed in the code before promptly walking into the still-closed door with a thud.

You frowned, suddenly more alert. You checked the panel and saw that you had just locked your apartment, not unlocked it. Living on Coruscant – especially in an area not known for being the safest corner of the planetary city – had informally trained you to watch for your safety almost constantly. And the possibility that your door may have been unlocked by someone who may or may not be waiting inside to hurt you was a red flag.

Heart beating faster, you pressed your ear up against the door, to see if you could hear anyone and your eyes widened when you heard a faint groan coming from inside.

Panic began to course through your veins, and you debated whether or not you should call the authorities before deciding against it. They wouldn’t get here in time to be of any use, and so many crimes happened on Coruscant that you doubted anyone would even come at all.

Instead, you steeled yourself and then typed in the code again.

Save for the single lamp you always left on; the apartment was dark. The yellow light bathed the small space in a soft glow that made everything look a little less like a standard-issue Coruscanti apartment and a little more like a home. You quietly dropped your bag by the door, picked up a vase from the entryway and crept into your apartment. It was then you heard the shower running and the soft hum of a smokey tenor echo through the apartment. Your shoulders instantly relaxed.

There was only one person who would break into your apartment and take a shower.

You placed the vase down on the kitchen bench, a smile biting the corners of your mouth as you walked to your small ensuite bathroom, the humming getting louder. Your smile only got wider when you saw his armour stacked neatly next to the dresser. You could hear the hum louder from here, and your heart squeezed itself against your ribs. He was happy.

You opened the door slowly, knocking softly even though he would sense you were there as soon as the door opened. “Hunter?”

The humming stopped and Hunter’s wet head poked around the shower curtain. If he was a sight when he was dry, he was completely ethereal when wet. His hair stuck around his shoulders and neck, water dripping down his tattooed face onto his neck. He smiled out the side of his mouth, eyes bright at the sight of you. “Hey, you.”

You grinned, just as pleased to see him. “Hey. You’re back.”

“I am.”

You nodded to the steaming shower. “Can I join you?”

He wordlessly pulled back the shower curtain as his answer, revealing half of his bare muscular body. You undressed quickly, piling your clothes on top of his blacks that had been kicked near the privy before stepping in with him. Almost instantly, you were engulfed in Hunter’s arms, his wet body pressed against yours as he pushed his nose into your neck, breathing deeply.

“Someone missed me,” you smiled, hands holding his upper arms and squeezing them gently.

You felt his breath on your neck as he nuzzled his nose against your skin. It was always the first thing he did when he saw you. “You have no idea how much,” the words buzzing against your skin.

At the feel of his half-hard length pressed into your stomach, and you chuckled. “I think I can guess.”

Hunter trailed his hands down your body, nose still buried in your neck. He loved the way you smelled. Something about it drove him crazy, though you weren’t sure what it was specifically. But you’d never complain.

You felt him pull you closer, and his wet hair fell onto your shoulder as he dragged his hands up and down your thighs and hips. The water cascaded over you both, and when his hand dipped between your bodies down to the place between your legs, you tipped your head forward to rest on his shoulder as you moaned. “Hunter,” you choked out as his hand moved in slow circles there, and you felt yourself slicken at the touch.

Hunter pressed light kisses to your neck and shoulder, marking a trail up to your ear with his lips. “Been waiting for you to get back.” His voice was ragged like he’d been running, rasping out of him all breathy.

His fingers still moved slowly between you, and you whimpered before telling him quietly. “I thought someone had broken in.”

Hunter pulled back to look at you, his hand stilling as he searched your face with a crease between his brow. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sorry, cyari’ka, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and looked in his brown-grey eyes as steam continued to rise from the running water. “I heard a loud groan…what were you doing?”

The corner of Hunter’s mouth lifted before those eyes of his darkened. “What do you think?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.

You hummed. The idea of him getting off in your shower as he waited for you to come home conjured up so many salacious images in your mind you had to squeeze his arms to steady yourself. The thought of him in here, cock in his hand as he stroked himself to just your scent…it only made the arousal building inside you burn hotter.

“Couldn’t wait for me?” You croaked out.

“Kriff, no. As soon as I stepped inside you were everywhere,” he continued his kisses, sucking at your jaw. “And it only got stronger. Every breath I took you were there, inside my lungs, seeping into my skin. You know how insane you make me, and it’s been months…” He drew back and brushed his nose against yours. “Are you mad?”

“God, no,” you breathed against his lips.

“Good.”

Hunter finally kisses your mouth then. His mouth slants over yours and it’s impossible not to moan into it. His tongue moves over your lips and slides against yours. To think when you met him, he had no idea how to kiss and now he knew the inside of your mouth better than you did.

He groaned into the kiss, and you knew his senses were in overdrive right now, the hot wet of your mouth only driving him crazier. He pushed you back against the tile, his solid body trapping you between the cool of the tile and the heat of his skin. His hands gripped your hips as you snaked one leg around his. With his now hard length pressing between you, it was so close to where you needed it. You arched into him, the need to have him as close as humanly possible so intense you could comprehend nothing but Hunter’s kisses and hands as he did everything he could to consume every part of you. Your only thought was how badly you wanted him to.

You had missed him too, after all.

Your hands went into his hair, tugging at the wet strands as he continued to explore your mouth. He broke away but only to resume his kisses down your neck, his tongue lolling out to lick the skin and the droplets of water in between the kisses. Steam from the water clouded your vision, or was that because of the sensation of Hunter’s hands against you? You didn’t know. You moaned as his kisses travelled down your torso.

“Hunter,” you choked out as you watched him lower to his knees in front of you.

“Missed you so much,” he said again, the words vibrating against your skin.

You caressed his temple with your thumb. “I missed you.”

He groaned loudly against the skin of your stomach. “You smell incredible.”

You whimpered, so incredibly turned on as he moved his mouth down, his lips dragging across your skin, and you watched him descend lower, his eyes half closed and rolling back. You could see just how hard he was, up against his stomach. The water continued to flow down his shoulders and half-tattooed torso, down into the hair that covered most of his front.

You raked your fingers through his hair, nails against his scalp and you felt his moan on your stomach, and the sound ignited your insides with desire. It felt like your whole body was electrified, pulsing with need and he’d barely even done anything.

“Hunter, more, please,” you breathed out.

Hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He groaned, standing up and shutting the water off as he kissed you once more. He pulled back, sliding the shower curtain roughly across its pole before picking you up effortlessly. Your arms and legs went around him as he buried his nose in your neck again as he walked to your bed, both of you still dripping wet but neither of you caring enough to do anything about it.

Hunter lay you down gently, moving you up to the pillows as he climbed on top of you. His hair fell forward, dripping onto your chest and he leaned down to suck the droplets off your skin.

You moaned as his mouth travelled to your neck again, kissing you there, his lips sucking gently, and you knew there would be a nice mark there tomorrow that you would grumble about trying to cover for work. But right now, the idea of him laying a claim to you made every nerve ending in your body tingle, especially the ones between your legs.

His lips then made their way to your chest, and he moved to one breast, taking the nipple between his teeth, making you whine before he circled his tongue around it, sucking gently. Your back arched off the bed and you felt his hand slide underneath you, between your shoulder blades, drawing you into his mouth more. He sucked gently, then moved on to the other one, repeating the same ministrations with his tongue.

You panted, mewling with every pinch of his teeth grazing your nipple. He was taking his time with you, as usual, savouring every single part of you. You knew he’d be tired after spending months completing gruelling missions, but he was still eager to pleasure you slowly, work you up until you were begging for a release only he could give.

Exhausted, but never for you.

He released your breast, wetness from his mouth glistening the peak in the dim light. He continued down once again, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he lowered himself between your legs.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with want before he sat back on his heels to spread your legs a little wider, holding the inside of your thighs down with his hands. His thumbs circled the soft skin there as he gazed at you all spread out for him.

He looked beautiful like his. His brown skin illuminated only by the light that managed to creep through the blinds, his tattoo etched down one side of his body which still shined with the water from the shower. His cock was so hard with need, precum already pooling at the tip – you’ve barely even touched him. He was just worked up over touching you, breathing you in. He was average in length, but his thickness set him apart from any other sexual partner you’ve had. You ached to feel it inside you, but if he was taking his sweet time with you, it would be a while before you felt him stretch you.

Hunter was nothing if not thorough.

“Hunter…” you whined, sitting up on your elbows.

“Look so pretty like this,” he told you, not an ounce of insincerity in his tone as he crept down to his elbows, arms wrapping under and around your thighs as he pushed his nose against your centre. He breathed in deeply, and the groan that erupted from the back of his throat buzzed against your core.

“So good…” he murmured as he pushed his nose against your clit, making you jerk. He placed a kiss there before gently bringing it into his mouth to suck. You cry out, hips bucking up into his nose and he moans again before his mouth finally moves over you completely.

You arch your back off the bed as his tongue moves artfully against you. The sensation continued to stoke the fire that had been building the minute he wrapped his arms around you in the shower. You moved your hands to his hair, clutching the roots with your fingers and pushing him closer as he licked and sucked like a man starved. And in a way he was. Your hand was no substitute for this. He licked a line up, before bringing his lips around the bud again and sucking gently. You couldn’t think about anything but his hot mouth and tongue against you. You ground into his mouth, needing more friction as the pleasure began to build in your belly, coiling in hot spirals as Hunter continued. He groaned into you through his ministrations, and when he felt you clench on his tongue, he pulled you impossibly closer to his mouth as he moved his tongue faster. Your breaths filled the room, pants loud and moans echoing in the space. You could feel the mattress move underneath you and you looked down at him with hooded eyes to see him rutting against the mattress, getting off to the pleasure he was giving you.

“Hunter, please, I’m so—” Your words were barely audible, but Hunter knew what you meant as he pressed his tongue harder against you, bringing your clit into his mouth and sucking one more time, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. You cried out, the band inside you snapping as pleasure erupted.

Your back arched and you cried out his name like it was an incantation, over and over as he continued to move his tongue through your undoing, groaning against you as you came all over his tongue. Your hands tight in his hair, you tugged as you shuddered underneath him until the tremors slowed, and you lay breathless, limbs heavy. You looked down at him as he emerged from between your legs, mouth glistening with your come, coating his lips and chin. He licked his lips and groaned. The sight of it was so obscene you felt your body flush.

“Good girl,” he told you before he climbed over you, capturing your mouth in a kiss. You could taste yourself in his mouth and you moaned at the way his fingers briefly dipped inside you. “So good for me,” he told you against your lips. “Always so good.”

“Need you inside me,” you mumbled back.

Hunter groaned and you watched as he drew back to lean on his heels again, using the fingers he’d just brushed through your folds to lubricate his length. He hissed as he circled the tip and down the shaft before he coated his fingers again and slid them in his mouth, sucking them gently with his eyes closed, savouring the taste. You watched him, mesmerised.

Was this man really yours?

He positioned himself at your entrance, holding himself above you with strong arms, face over yours. His eyes were so intense, their brown-grey colour boring into you. He gave you a look, one that differed from the wanting gaze he’d been giving you. This look was one of tenderness, one that asked if you were still good – still okay with this. You nodded and he pressed his lips against yours once more before he eased himself inside you.

You gasped as you stretched around him, clawing at his shoulders as you locked your legs around his. He groaned as he bottomed out, filling you completely. He caught his breath and when you clenched around him, he made a choking sound, swearing.

“Been too long,” he whispered.

“Too long,” you repeated before he drew himself back out slowly. He pushed his nose into your shoulder again as he groaned loudly. Then he slowly began thrusting, the sounds of your moans and groans filling the room, along with the indecent sound of his skin hitting yours as his movements increased in speed.

“Hunter,” you moaned his name, and he groaned in response. His hands found your hips and he adjusted his position so he could reach deeper, and he continued to roll his hips against you, your hands clutching at his forearms as the headboard hit the wall repeatedly.

Sex with Hunter always felt amazing. Full of the kind of passion that almost didn’t feel real. It was full of moans and groans and tantalising touches that built you up and up so when you finally let go, the fall felt so good it was almost immeasurable. It was filled with kisses and though he wasn’t much of a talker, he would whisper how good you felt against him. No matter how rough he was being, you felt safe in his hands and cared for – he made sure of that. Being in the throes of pleasure with Hunter was an all-consuming feeling for you both, one that you relished whenever you got the chance. His time home was so fleeting, that anything you could both do to tell each other how much you missed the other, how much you loved the other, you would do. Later, you would use your words. But right now, your bodies spoke instead; each press, clench, shudder, whimper, and groan said the words for you both.

You could feel those familiar hot coils building again each time he buried himself in you, and you could feel his movements falter slightly as he came closer to his own release. He’d come up from your neck again and you looked up at him, mouth agape as his hair, now half dry, fell over his handsome face and the curled ends tickled your cheeks. You reached up and placed some behind his ear, hand cupping his jaw.

“Hunter—”

Hunter nodded quickly, eyes dark and pupils blown. “I know.”

Of course, he did. His senses were so in tune with your body he could feel the subtle changes of your arousal and smell the way your body was on the precipice of falling.

Hunter’s hands held your hips and the headboard, and he rocked himself into you, faster this time. He panted, a husky noise from the back of his throat sounding with each thrust as he brought you closer. You rasped out a string of yeses as the sensation that had been building rose to its peak. You locked your legs around his thighs, clawing at his back as you clenched hard around him, crying out.

Your back arched into him, fingernails forming crescent moon carvings in the skin of his arms as you shuddered against him. His name fell from your lips as you writhed underneath him, riding out your orgasm as he continued to sink into you on the verge of overstimulation.

“Come on, cyare,” you whispered to him as you were still trembling. "Still got my implant."

It wasn’t a second later until he gave a ragged cry as he stilled, spilling inside you. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth gritted as he groaned loudly – the way you had heard him through the apartment door before. Half collapsing on top of you, he pushed his face into your shoulder again, this time biting the skin there as his thrusts became languid, drawing out as much of his release as possible. You hissed as his teeth claimed your skin, but no matter how worked up Hunter was, he always made sure his bites weren’t too hard.

When Hunter’s shudders stopped, both of you caught your breath. You could feel his breath tickle your shoulder, and this was the first time since you’d been home that you registered the familiar musky smell of his skin. You smiled and kissed his shoulder while he was still on top of you, the tangy taste of his sweat on your lips.

Hunter slowly emerged from your shoulder and looked down at you, eyelids heavy and hair all tangled. You smiled, still dazed, and reached up to push it out of his face, tucking it behind his ear again. He smiled warmly at you before kissing the inside of your wrist.

He hissed as he pulled out of you, and the loss of him down there was so prominent you felt an ache. Hunter rolled off you and lay beside you on his stomach for a minute, his eyes drooping shut for a moment before he forced them open again.

“Hang on,” he said and kissed your shoulder lightly before pushing himself up and heading into the bathroom. You giggled as you heard the cupboard door open and shut before the tap turned on. You turned on your side, still half-limp, watching him wet a towel and then re-enter the room.

He sat next to you as he wiped between your legs sleepily, the warm towel a gentle caress on your skin before he placed it on the bedside table and lay down next to you.

You smiled and pulled the covers back so you could get under them together. They were damp from your hasty decision to not dry off beforehand, but they would dry as you slept. You watched as Hunter nestled himself in the mattress, eyes closing, but when you didn’t move closer to him immediately, he peeked an eye open. He reached out to you under the covers, with a frown.

“Come,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“I did. Twice,” you smirked as you let his hands circle your arms and pull you in closer.

“Shuddup,” he slurred, but he still smiled, kissing your temple as he tucked you against his chest. You breathed in the scent of him as you rested your head on him.

You chuckled. “You smell like me.”

“Good. Need to smell like you forever,” he pushed his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath in. “What is the name of this soap, anyway? Gonna place an order.”

You laughed. You loved he was like this – all soft and sleepy after you’d come together. It was a side only you saw, the shedding of that broody exterior he reserved for his service to reveal the tenderness that was a secret for your eyes only. “I think it’s generic brand vanilla and starflower.”

“Smells fucking incredible,” Hunter mumbled, making you laugh again. You kissed his chest and after a moment of silence where all you did was breathe together, he said, “You okay? I didn’t plan to do all that the second I saw you.”

You smiled. No matter how exhausted he was, he always had to check in with you.

“I’m really, really okay, Hunter,” you told him. “There are worse ways to be greeted upon returning home.”

“I at least wanted one conversation with you before I had my way with you,” Hunter murmured in your skin, kissing your shoulder again, this time where he had bitten you, his lips soothing the slight ache there.

“Talking is overrated,” you joked with a shrug, snuggling into his chest. You felt it thrum with a deep chuckle. He knew you loved to hear him talk.

“Tomorrow, we can talk. I have so much to tell you,” he breathed, lips brushing your temple.

You smiled. “Me too. Tomorrow.” You patted his chest gently. “Sleep now, cyare. I know you’re exhausted.”

Hunter hummed, on the cusp of slumber. “Tomorrow.” You felt his body relax. “Love you, cyare,” he mumbled into your hair.

You heard his breathing become deep and even, his chest rising and falling, his heartbeat steady against your palms. You smiled, closing your eyes. “Love you more.”

banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3 again, this is my first time writing a full smut scene like this so feedback (delivered kindly) is really appreciated!!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook

TAGLIST FORM

if you're a regular on my tag list but haven't been tagged, it's bc your age isn't in your bio/have said you prefer sfw fics.

#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter x reader fic #hunter bad batch smut #hunter x reader smut #hunter bad batch #huter fic #hunter bad batch fic #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch smut #tbb huter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb x reader #bad batch smut #hunter smut

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writing-for-marvel · 1 year

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Everyone’s Watching Him (But He’s Looking At Her) (2)

Actor!Bucky Barnes x Assistant!Fem!Reader

< < PART 1 | Series Masterlist | PART 3 > >

Summary: It’s Bucky’s big late night interview promoting his new movie, but when the interviewer asks a question which causes Bucky to storm off the set, you’re there to comfort him.

Warnings: idiots in love, hurt comfort, interviewer brings up questions which crosses Bucky’s boundaries, shy/insecure reader, soft fluff

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: this is dedicated to the beautiful and kind @blackwidownat2814 because I love you so much and I know you wanted more of these two! You said you haven’t been feeling the best lately so I hope this cheers you up, even just a little 💜 photo credit @deardjo, banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

“You’re on in five, Mr Barnes!” A voice calls to Bucky who’s getting ready in his dressing room.

Tonight’s a big night for him, appearing on Late Tonight with Alexander Pierce, his first late night talk show interview to promote his newest movie, and though the occasion is a significant one, Bucky looks as laid back as if it's just another day.

Bucky’s manager, Maria, is on what Bucky calls one of her rampages, listing off a million and one last minute reminders about what to endorse in the interview and the specific phrasing the producer wants him to use when introducing the movie.

You know it by heart as you were the one practising with him in the car on the way to the studio. You knew Bucky was better at memorising lines than he had let on, he is a professional actor after all, but it made your stomach tingle with butterflies to think he was purposely messing up the lines to get you to laugh and playfully reprimand him.

As Maria continues her one sided conversation, Bucky looks over her shoulder at you and makes a silly face, poking out his tongue, making you chuckle. He’s such an idiot sometimes, but he never fails to make you smile, even during a time where he should arguably be tense and not paying any mind to relaxing your nerves.

“As always I’ve given them a list of topics which are off limits but if he asks you anything you don’t want to answer...” Maria continues, you’re unsure if she’s immune to Bucky’s goofiness and is ignoring him, or if she’s too preoccupied to even notice.

“I know the drill Maria. Don’t you trust me?”

Maria gives Bucky a look, and even though she has her back to you, you know her well enough to sense the stern glare she’s throwing at him. Though, she’s never been intimidating enough to scare Bucky who’s still cheekily grinning like a ten year old thinking they’ve gotten away with a prank.

“You’re a mischief maker, so no I don't, not when it comes to live interviews.” Her phone starts ringing, saving Bucky from the rest of her spiel. “And fix your goddamn tie before you go on, you look like a troublesome schoolboy!” She calls back into the dressing room as she excuses herself to take the call.

“C’mere.” You step closer to Bucky and pull him the rest of the way towards you by tugging on the end of his tie. When he’s this close the scent of his deep, smokey cologne seems to overpower all your other senses and makes it hard to focus. “I swear I’ve shown you how to do this a thousand times.”

“Maybe I just like when you pull me close and do it for me.” Your cheeks heat like the sun and you shyly break eye contact to look at the floor, a feeling that’s all too familiar when you’re around Bucky, but is still a reaction you haven’t mastered in concealing from him. You suspect he does it on purpose.

You’re saved from having to form a sentence in your flustered state by someone shouting “Barnes, two minutes!” from the hall.

“That’s my cue. See you in a bit.” You can sense the smile in his voice, even when you’re bashfully staring at the ground.

You turn and watch him stride out of the room, your arms finding their way around your middle, hugging yourself as if Bucky’s departure results in you losing a part of yourself you’re desperately trying to hold onto.

Before he can disappear into the corridor, Bucky looks back at you, an instinctive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he finds you already looking at him. He shoots you a wink before making his way towards the stage.

You turn the television in the dressing room on to watch the interview, but you can hear the clapping and cheering of the audience resounding through the entire studio as Bucky’s introduced.

He aces the first part of the interview, introducing the film word for word from the script provided by the movie producers, and describing the action packed teaser scene shown for the first time on the show. You breathe a sigh of relief as they cut to the advertisements, knowing everything so far has gone to plan and Bucky only has to get through a couple more minutes before he’ll rejoin you in his dressing room.

When the show comes back from the ad break, Bucky and Alex are laughing about something he must have said before the cameras were rolling. He looks happy, relaxed, that infectious smile of his plastered from ear to ear.

“So, we all want to know, have you got anyone special in your life? Is the devilishly handsome, notorious ladies man Bucky Barnes single?” Alexander asks eagerly and the crowd buzzes in anticipation waiting for his response.

Your stomach churns with a new wave of nerves - you know for a fact that this is on the list of no go topics, yet the host has no qualms in asking it.

Bucky doesn’t let the concern for the hosts' blatant disregard of his boundaries translate to his features, but you know him well enough to tell that the forced smile, small chuckle he lets slip out and slight change in his posture means he’s extremely uncomfortable with the probing question.

“I like to keep my personal life private. I already share so much of my life with my fans, but there are certain things I want to keep just for myself.” Bucky answers firmly, maintaining the strict boundary whilst also remaining polite.

There’s a moment of respite from your nerves, believing Bucky’s answer to be sufficient to shut down whatever Pierce is attempting to gain from the unsolicited question, but his next words bring the anxiety back with full vigour.

“I think that’s code for: yes, he’s in a relationship.” Pierce addresses the crowd, who starts ‘awwing’ in response. “Want to let us know who the lucky lady is?”

“No, that’s not what I-” Bucky tries to insist, but Pierce rudely interrupts to ask the next question. You can see Bucky’s jaw clench, even through the small screen you're currently watching from. Though he’s simply a room away, it feels like an entire galaxy in distance when he’s in front of cameras and you’re unable to do anything to subside his annoyance which is quickly turning into rage.

“The other burning question our fans had for you was the origin of your prosthetic arm - you’ve never explained how you lost your limb and of course we’re all intrigued by the mystery. I think now is the perfect opportunity to set the record straight.” Pierce looks at Bucky expectantly as if he had simply asked what day of the week it was.

If there is one hard no Bucky would never answer publically it was the story surrounding how he lost his arm.

You can see the anger bubbling in his chest, but most of all the pain, the grievous misery he’s trying so hard to disguise in his eyes. He desperately doesn’t want to break down in front of the entire world.

“That’s not a question I’m willing to answer.” Bucky replies in a faint, cracking voice. Standing up, to the gasps and murmurs of the audience, Bucky takes off his microphone pack, leaving it on the host's desk, and walks off the stage without another word.

You hear Pierce claim “I guess that’s just Bucky Barnes living up to his roguish ways” with a laugh before shutting off the tv, scrambling to gather your things and go find where Bucky headed off to when the door swings open.

Bucky stands tall and broad in the doorway, but you’ve never seen him look so small.

As he closes the door behind him you hear a sniffle and your instincts immediately kick in - he’s barely turned around to face you again before you’ve pulled him into a bone crunching hug. Your heart breaks sharply in your chest as you hear the wrenching sob he finally lets out.

Tears sting behind your eyes as you feel Bucky’s chest heave with his weeping, but you do your best to pull yourself together. You have to be the strong one here, Bucky’s the one in unimaginable pain.

The door bursts open but Bucky doesn’t let go of you to look at who it is. Maria stands there with a combination of fury and concern mixed in her eyes, as well as sympathy as she observes Bucky’s large frame crying into your shoulder. She silently raises her eyebrows as if to ask if you think he’ll be okay.

“I’ll take care of him, you go berate them for what they did.” You suggest, and even though it’s unlike Maria to do anything without disagreeing and recommending her own approach first, she nods and backs out of the dressing room.

You stand there, softly rubbing Bucky’s back and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, as he cries into your shoulder. Your heart, which Bucky already owns completely, shatters alongside his.

“How could he?” Bucky asks with an invigorated sob. You wish you could alleviate all his pain, even by taking it on yourself, just so he wouldn’t have to bear the burden. You squeeze him tighter in attempts to convey the sentiment.

However, you’re unsure how to answer his question because you yourself don’t understand how someone could be so cold-hearted to shamelessly mortify Bucky with the most traumatic event of his life in front of the entire world, especially after specifically prohibiting the topic.

“I dunno Buck, but he’ll never get the opportunity again, you hear me? You’ll never have to be in the same room as that shithead ever again.” You hope your words bring Bucky some comfort, but as this wound is so raw, the ache so fresh, you’re not sure there are any combination of words that can stop his pain.

You stay with him as long as he needs you to, slowly rubbing circles over his back, until eventually his sobs subside and his breathing slows to normal.

“C’mon, let me drive you home.”

“Home sounds good.” Bucky comments, but by the way he’s nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and how he’s holding you tight against him, it doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to get there.

After a few extra moments where you cherish simply holding each other without Bucky’s movements as he wept, you pull back, taking an additional second to admire just how blue his eyes are, even if they are tinted slightly red from crying, and how they look at you with a fondness that makes your knees weak, you whisper “let’s get outta here”.

The drive to Bucky’s house isn’t too long, especially this late at night. You attempt to prevent Bucky from reading any headlines about the situation, but with the exception of tossing his phone out the window of the moving car, there’s not much you can do.

“I swear it’s all everyone sees, what Maria loves to push for publicity - the supposed playboy with a mysterious past because he won’t talk about how he lost his fucking arm, I hate it.” His voice is full of exasperation and it makes you want to pull him back into another hug.

“It’s not what everyone sees, Buck.”

“Really, who doesn’t?” Me, you want to declare, but you question the implications of saying it aloud and the word dies in the back of your throat. You’re his assistant, just his assistant, and it’s inappropriate and unprofessional for you to infer otherwise.

“The people who genuinely care about you and know the real you - your Ma, Becks.” Is what you say instead. Your eyes are focussed on the dimly lit road ahead of you so you miss the downcast look Bucky throws your way, as if he was hoping you’d have answered his question differently.

“Yeah, I guess.” Is all he mumbles before sitting in quiet contemplation for the rest of the short drive to his house.

The silence gives your mind time to regret what you didn’t say, and wish for that time back again. Will there ever be a perfect time to tell him how you feel? How he makes your cheeks ache with how much he gets you to smile in his presence; how your eyes are always searching for him in a crowded room, and that your stomach somersaults when out of everyone, you’re the person he makes eye contact with before smiling; how no matter what time, day or night, you’d drop everything and anything if he needed you.

As if sensing your mental suffering, Bucky places his hand atop yours on the gear stick, still not saying a word, but the action itself calms the storm of anxiety building in your chest.

You pull up in his driveway and turn off the car, unsure if you should get out and help him inside, or if he just wants his space. You give him time to make up his mind, but your doubt is answered almost as soon as the rumbling of the engine ceases.

“Can you stay with me tonight? I don’t wanna be alone right now.” You’re sure you’ll never be able to say no to Bucky Barnes, but when his eyes look as fragile as a bubble floating in the wind, ready to pop at any given second, all you want is to pull him close and keep him safe forever.

Behind that fragility is uncertainty, unsure if you’ll agree to stay or not, and even though you weren’t sure it was possible, your heart cracks a little more after the events of the night knowing that he doubts whether you’d do absolutely anything for him.

“Whatever you need, Buck.”

“I just want you.”

“You have me. You’ll always have me.” And you mean that, with your entire being.

You get out of the car and snake your arm around his back, he does the same to you. You walk arm in arm through his front door, treasuring the warmth of his closeness and forcing the romantic implications to the back of your mind.

Those can be discussed tomorrow. Right now, he just needs you.

Part 3 > >

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starry-bi-sky · 1 month

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more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

#tw mentions of gore #cw gore #i suppose this counts as gore #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #childhood friends au #cfau #really leaning into the idea of rath just being a horror. the horrors! i am delighted in the horrors!#im having fun with it #i swear to god turning 19 turned a switch on in my brain because i am much more comfortable with gore and heavy injury now than i was l #literally a year ago. the urge to write about some of danny's most horrific injuries in his fights is STRONG #like the hORRORS folks. *th horrors*. i dont think i'll ever write a dissection fic because that icks me out but the idea that danny's had #to stitch up his own throat because it got slit in a fight nd he cant shift back to human until he's done because his ghost will survive bu #his body wont #the idea that he's been impaled multiple times before and it hurts each fucking time but he still gets up and hurls the hurt right back in #equal measure. because that's how you wanna play? okay. lets play. he's 14 and his best friend is dead. he can play.#and the idea that all ghosts have 'corpse' forms where their ghosts look exactly like how they died. and danny is utterly unrecognizable #jazz being liminal or not just isnt important to me because she's barely gonna show up in the story anyways #same reason why i hardly use the headcanon that ellie becomes danny's daughter because what use is she to me like that? she'll hardly have #an impact on the story and i refuse to treat characters like props. if they can't help progress the story then they aren't included

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yanderenightmare · 1 year

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NSFW ABC's

Bakugou Katsuki x darling

TW: yandere, NSFW, breeding visualizations

part G, H & I

Games

do they like to play? if so, what?

He likes chasing you down and tackling you. And he’s not shy off a tickle-fight. He absolutely loves having you pinned in a burst of unfiltered smiles and laughter as you cry for him to stop while splashing like a fish out of water beneath him.

It’s as though your thrashing reaches his heart, riveting his entire body ablaze.

You make him feel the same way he feels when he’s using his quirk – sparked on fuel, eager to explode, and just bursting at the seams.

He thinks you’re so beautiful then – and all other times, but especially then – when you have a few sprinkles of tears in the corner of your eyes from the force of your giggles, all your walls down in trust of him even though his arms are scarred beyond repair with evidence of his brutal nature.

That’s the moment he thinks of knocking you up.

He wants you to be a family – a complete family with a couple of brats running around. He wants to blow raspberries on their bellies and make them giggle the way you do. He wants to see you play here-comes-the-airplane when tricking them into eating. He wants goofy family pictures lining the staircase and the mantle, and the desk in his office. He wants childish celebrations – Christmas, Halloween, April Fool's Day. He wants it all.

And he wants it all with you.

Horny

how horny are they?

Winning makes him horny. His work – investigating, patrolling, fighting, exploding. Every win, big or small, celebrated with you – his cheerleader, his prize. It goes straight to his head, and what goes to his head goes straight to his dick, and his dick leads straight to you.

He always comes home in a winner’s high, grinning that devilish smirk while he lifts you off the ground with greasy smokey hands, rubbing his face into the nook of your neck until you giggle – asking you if you saw him and how he kicked ass on the news.

You tell him yes even if you haven’t – you know you’ll get a full recap over dinner anyway.

He’s in the best mood those days – brazen and handsy with you, smiling and talkative – bragging about his takedowns and sharing the funny office shenanigans Kirishima and Denki get up to.

Then he’ll make an effort to act invested in you, asking you about your day – but you only look at him knowingly and tell him it was nothing special – recognizing his interest as just that – interest.

There’s no smooth segway from boasting about his achievements to asking to fuck you, but you help him get there – putting your dishes in the sink, you come back and drape your hands around him, giving his neck a kiss, blowing on his ear while telling him to come and claim another victory.

Intimacy

how lovey-dovey are they?

He’s connected with you, with a focus on your movements, taking in all your little reactions and kissing you when catching you doing something unreasonably cute.

But he’s the cute one – trying not to leave any bruises on you despite you having told him it’s okay.

He doesn’t like seeing his transgressions marring your skin as unseemly reminders of his short temper and vicious strength – and how completely at his mercy you would be were he to exercise it.

He fears he’d start thinking differently about your relationship if he did. He fears he might come to use it against you to get his way like he’s done in the past with others that have made the same mistake of caring for him.

The thought of your face twisted with betrayal – looking at him like he’s nothing but a villain – that’s what keeps him in check. He understands that the day he breaks your trust is the day he loses you – maybe not in the physical sense if he can help it, but he would be helpless to stop you from never loving him the same way ever again.

But even though his thoughts disgust him while he swears to himself that he won’t ever make you feel in any way inferior – he still regards it as a ticking time bomb. That you one day will realize that he’s not as good as you think he is and try to leave him – and that on that day, he just won’t be able to let you go.

tip-jar:Kofi

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iamthecomet · 6 months

Text

Dismiss Your Demons

AKA: Kinktober Day 28 - Sounding

Rating: E Pairing: Cirrus/Dew Featuring: Service Dom Cirrus. Soft Dom Cirrus. Sub Dew. He's a tiny bit of a brat if you squint, but not really. He just likes giving Cirrus shit. Sounding. Character development cleverly disguised as porn. Aftercare (in the form of cuddles). Word Count: 3.1k. I did not read through this after I wrote it, so it is what it is, friends. I hope it makes sense. Read it on AO3.

Or under the cut.

Dew can’t think . He’s sweating. It’s pooling low on his back. He twitches his fingers where he has them pinned there. Wishing for something, anything, to flip through his fingers.

He loves Cirrus.

But Satanas does she make him nervous. Especially with this look on her angular face. A crooked smile. Movements too easy, body too loose. He’s well and truly fucked. That’s what he gets for telling her he needed to get out of his head and she could do anything. It’s been a long week. A brutal few days on the road that have left all of them snapping at each other. Even Papa has had enough. Bad weather, bus problems, hotel mix-ups, three terrible catering companies in a row. They’ve all had enough. Dew looks across the hotel room and longs for his bed at home. For dark abbey hallways, and candle light, and the smell of incense. He is sick of fluorescent lighting and white walls and low pile carpet. He digs his toes into it anyway, dissatisfied.

He watches Cirrus as she flits around the room. Movements loose. More relaxed than she has any right to be given everything that’s been going on. But maybe it isn’t bothering her as much as it is Dew. She comes off as type A for sure. A control freak. But she’s more flexible than he is. Waves off problems and stupid tour bullshit with a shrug as if to say “oh well it happened, let’s move on.”

She’s always reminded him of Aether in that way. Certainly the person they look for leadership, but because of their flexibility rather than the rigidness of someone like Dew who needs things to be right or he will feel like his skin is too small.

That’s how he feels right now, watching Cirrus bounce around the room. Feeling like he’s just put his life in her hands. He takes a deep, breathe out. Frowns when his exhale comes out a little smokey. Tinged with anxiety. Cirrus notice, dark brows furrowing. She frowns a little at him–worried.

“We won’t do anything you won’t like,” she reassures him. She fusses with her hair. Scrubbing her manicured nails over the shaved side. Her fingernails are electric blue, blunt like always. No deadly manicures like Aurora or Cumulus. No stiletto nails dragging over the head of his dick tonight. As pretty as that is–he’s ok with it.

“You said something new,” he says. Allows himself this moment of vulnerability. Cirrus tilts her head at him.

“You really are stuck aren’t you?”

Dew grimaces. He hates it sometimes. The way she reads him like a book–all of them. So much like Aether. That’s probably why he pulled her aside after the show instead of someone else. Seeking a grounding touch someone to pull him back to earth without him really having to ask for it.

“I want to go home,” he says. It sounds stupid. He shrugs. Doesn’t move, back straight, fingers still twitching behind his back. Knuckles flexing over the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I can’t help you with that.” Cirrus sits on edge of the bed, pets the spot next to her. Dew drops down next to her. He presses his elbows into his thighs, he digs his fingers into his scalp until it hurts. Cirrus pulls him apart, uncurls him. Cool fingers unclenching his from his hair. She leans in, bumps her horns against his.

“Enough of that,” she chides. “Aether will kill me if you come home bald.”

Dew’s lips twitch upward. “Should shave it. Just to spite him. Punishment for abandoning us.”

Cirrus ruffles his hair. “Don’t even think about it, firefly.”

She presses her forehead against his. He breathes in deep, inhaling the fresh cotton smell of her. Cool and clean. He closes his eyes, nuzzles his face against her, horns bumping together.

“Take care of me,” he says, finally. “Please.”

“You’ll let me try something new?”

He nods. “Anything.”

Cirrus stands. Dew feels her vacancy in his bones. He turns his head, opens his eyes to watch her riffling through her bag. She produces a small leather case. She starts to unzip it and Dew feels his mouth go dry already.

Not so new then.

“Cir, that’s not–I’ve–”

Her eyes flash, so light blue they’re almost white. She grins at him, too many fangs. A chill rolls up his spine, and he swallows the rest of his words.

“I know you’ve done this before. I’ve heard all about what you do when you’re alone with a fire.”

Dew groans, he rolls his eyes. Tipping back onto the bed dramatically. Hair fanning out around his head. “Fucking Swiss .” “Why don’t you ever ask me to come see?”

Dew flushes, he can’t help it. He covers his face to hide it. “You don’t usually like to just watch.”

Dew hears the zipper on the case. The clink of metal. He shudders. Chubbing up in his jeans already. Anticipation thruming through him from sound alone. He has the vague realization that he is like a trained dog. Conditioned into arousal by the idea of sounding rods.

“I could be compelled. Especially since you stole a rod from me to do it. I’m still missing it, by the way.”

“Sorry.”

Cirrus kicks one of his feet where it’s planted on the shitty carpet. Knocking his legs a little further apart so she can step between them. He feels the swell of her thighs between his. He moves his arm, looks up at her, towering over him, flipping one glinting rod through her fingers.

“You’re not. Don’t lie.”

Dew sits up. Reaches for her. She allows it. Allows him to put his hands on her waist, the curve of it. To slip his warm hands under her over-sized t-shirt and touch her ever-cool skin.

“I’ll give it back when we get home.”

Cirrus rolls her eyes instead of calling his bluff. “Strip.”

“Don’t I get a kiss first?”

“Brat,” she admonishes, but bends down and kiss him anyway. Full lips pressed against his. Cool. She tastes like red wine, black raspberries. He chases in, tongue sliding over hers. Taking one hand from her waist to lace in the longer side of her hair. Fingers carding through impossibly soft strands.

She pulls back and Dew chases her lips. His cock twitches against his thigh, more than chubby now. He reaches down to adjust, gives himself a small squeeze just before Cirrus bats his hand away.

“I asked you to do something, Firefly.”

Dew hauls his shirt over his head, tosses it somewhere and gets to work on his belt. He shoves his and boxers down in one motion and kicks them away.

Cirrus sinks down, kneeling between his spread legs, a bottle of lube and the set of sounding rods between her knees.

She’s right this is new. Cirrus doesn’t kneel for him. Only has ever bottomed for him when she’s been in heat. The look she gives him–cast up through long eyelashes–goes right to his dick. His stomach flips. She smooths a cool hand up over his thigh.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she says softly. Running a blunt nail down the seam of his balls. He twitches. Digs his teeth into his cheek.

“Never,” Dew gasps out with a shake of his head. He knows, even on her knees, Cirrus is in charge. She’s just so pretty like this, gorgeous. Sitting low, legs tucked under her ass. Shoulders pressed between Dew’s knees.

He slips a hand up his stomach to tug at a nipple ring as she drags her palm over the hard line of his cock. Soft hands feather light over his skin. He groans, as she palms at him, one hand after another over the underside of his cock where it curves up toward his stomatch. Not circling, more petting than anything. Just enough pressure to brush the wet tip over his sparse happy trail.

“Lay back,” she says. The words are soft but there is no mistaking them for anything but an order. “Let me help.”

Dew does. Falling back onto the bed like dead weight. Toes digging into the carpet as Cirrus pets him. She polishes the head, smears precum over the ruddy head. Dew digs his fangs into his lip until he tastes copper.

“ Relax ” she orders again. “Let go.”

It takes effort to loosen his jaw. To allow himself to groan as one of her hands dips lower to roll his balls between her deft fingers. He melts into the bed as she touches him. Works him up with slow easy movements. Cock twitching under her hands. Spitting precum onto her hands, his belly.

He winces when he whimpers, high and reedy. He hates it, but it’s gone now, already out of his mouth. It takes a minute, but eventually he feels the tension in his head start to unravel. Feels knots loosen. He stops hearing himself. Stops worrying about how desperate he sounds. How needy. How Rain can probably hear him from the next room over.

Instead, he hopes Rain has his ear pressed to the wall to listen. Embarrassment fading with the rest of the day–the week.

“Good boy,” Cirrus purrs. Dew’s floating by the time he hears her open the lube bottle. Disant. Brought down by gentle hands instead of harsh words. That’s new too. He’s hazy, glassy. Every stupid annoyance is distant, he can’t even think about them. Can’t think about anything except how Cirrus touches him.

How her hands–too soft for all of the music she plays–feel on him. He would do anything for her to have her keep touching him like that.

“Ready?” she purrs. Dew nods. He slurs around a yes , and a please . Hips twitching up toward her hands. His eyes are closed tight. An arm thrown over his eyes, blush burning against his forearm. With the other hand he plucks at his nipples. Tugs on the bar. Rolls the pebbled nub through his fingers. A little rough, the little bite of pain just adding to everything.

Cirrus starts with the smallest rod. Dew jolts when the cold metal touches his slit, presses down. More newness. When he plays with himself the metal is always warm, burning hot usually. The cold in contrast to his own body temperature makes stars dance behind his eyes.

Cirrus is uncharacteristically gentle with him. He’s more intune to it this way–expecting a shift. For her to start fucking the sounding rod into him with abandon. But instead she works it in slowly. She leaves it deep, opting to press her fingers along the underside of his cock instead. More petting strokes, rolling the rod inside of him.

It only takes him two more minutes to need more . A bigger rod. For her to actually stroke him. For her to thrust that ice cold metal in and out of his body. To really give him something. But he should have known that Cirrus’ gentleness would be his downfall.

They follow the same pattern. It’s all so slow, so easy. Dew’s hips flex up toward every touch. Whines bubbling out of his throat at every twitch. Cirrus coos at him, shushes him when he really starts to whine, to beg. She kisses the inside of his thigh. His hip bones. Drags her free hand up over his legs his belly. “Give me a color, baby.”

“Green. Just. More . I need more .”

“But you’re doing so good.”

Dew digs his claws into the comforter. He could scream. Pleasure burns low in his gut. A fire he doesn’t know how to feed, not enough kindling. Just enough fuel to flicker to life, but not enough to rage. Everything is sharp, intense. He shudders with it. Nerve alight.

Dew props himself up on his elbow, dragging his arm away from his face, opening his eyes. The room is too bright. Cirrus is looking up at him from between his legs smirk still firmly in place.

She’s up to the second largest rod now. Dew can see the way it bulges the underside of his cock. Cirrus runs a nail over it. Fingers catching on the piercing just below the head. Swiping over his frenulum with her thumb. He sobs at the sudden jolt of pleasure. Gasping in, breath catching.

“Hey, firefly,” Cirrus says softly. She reaches up along the length of his body, sitting up on her knees to brush her fingers over his flushed cheeks, over his throat, his pounding pulse. “How do you feel?”

“Like I want to cum.”

“Not what I meant.”

Dew sighs, whimpering as Cirrus twists the sounding rod. “Floaty. Fuck . Better. Please, Cir. At least let me see you. Give me something. ”

“Don’t be greedy,” Cirrus admonishes. “I’ve given you plenty.” Despite the words she leans back, pulls her hands away just long enough to pull her shirt over her head. Dew’s throat clicks when he swallows. Eyes dragging over her tits, her stomach. The curve of her waist. He wants to touch. Wants to lay back as she rides his face. Wants her to take everything from him.

Cirrus scoffs at the look on his face. “You’re so easy.”

Dew nods dumbly. Of course he is. Weak, always, to the power of Cirrus’ tits.

“Make me cum?” he means for it to come out as a demand, but instead it’s a question. Breathless.

Cirrus cocks a dark eyebrow. She lowers herself back, sitting on her heels. Her tits brushing his thighs as she goes, one dusky nipple dragging over his thigh. Dew wants to latch onto it with his mouth. Wants to suck it swollen.

He licks his lips, tries not to stare too much and fails.

“I’ll do anything.”

Cirrus’ eyebrow stays up, her head tips. She pets his cock again, watching as it twitches and spits precum onto his stomach. There’s a puddle of it there now, slick and shiny. The head of his dick is swollen, nearly purple. Cirrus bends down, and swipes her tongue up along the underside, pressing down hard on the rod as she goes.

Dew bucks up toward her mouth. Swears he’s going to burst into flames if she keeps going. If she doesn’t just–Cirrus smirks at him and sucks the head into his mouth. Tongue pressing down on the top of the rod to keep it in place.

He’s going to die. This is it. Death by sounding in a shitty hotel in the middle of nowhere USA. He’s fucked, utterly fucked. He falls back onto the bed, unable to hold himself up anymore.

Cirrus pulls off with a pop. “Anything?”

“Fuck– fuck– yes. Anything. Satanas whatever you want just fucking touch it. Make it cum. I can’t– fuck .”

Cirrus’s hand finally curls around the base of him. The other pulls at the sounding rod. Fucking it into him. She times her strokes with it, a counter rhythm that has him seeing stars. “Promise me.”

“I promise. ” Cirrus licks a stripe over his hip bone. Sucks a mark into the hollow there as she strokes him. Teeth digging in and making him gasp. Dew’s distantly aware of the sound he’s making. High pitched, whining. Desperate. If Rain wasn’t listening at the wall before he definitely is now. He bucks toward Cirrus’ hand, toes curling in the carpet.

“ Close .”

“Then cum,” Cirrus whispers against his hip. “Let it out. Let me see how messy you get.”

His balls draw up tight, he sobs as it hits him. Pleasure burning through his veins. His back arches as he cums. Cirrus pulls the sounding rod in just in time for the first spurt to hit Dew’s stomach. It dribbles down Cirrus fingers, into his pubic hair. Dew closes his eyes so tight he sees red. It feels like it goes on forever. Body still twitching long after he stops shooting. Cirrus strokes him through it, doesn’t stop until she’s squeezed every drop she can from him.

Dew waits for Cirrus to pounce on him. To force him into overstimulation. To straddle his face. She doesn’t. Instead, she wipes him up with her t-shirt, apologizing softly as he hisses in overstimulation. Then she pokes and prods him until he shifts. Muscles like jelly. He pulls himself fully onto the bed, finally laying in in properly. Cirrus settles in next to him, pulling him down to her. Curling an arm around him and pressing his head to her chest. Cheek pillowed by soft plush flesh as she pets the side of his head. He listens to her heart as he comes back down. Steady, solid. He clings to her. Fingers dimpling into her waist.

“Give me a minute and I can–whatever you want.”

“I’m fine, Dew.” She kisses him between the horns.

“Not fair,” he says sleepily. “You should get off too.”

She shrugs beneath him. “You know how it is for me. It’s not that easy. Watching you is just as good, you know that. Do you feel better? Quieter?”

Dew nods. Yawns, nuzzles into her breast. He presses open mouthed kisses across the freckled skin there. Lazy. Appreciative. “Yeah. Thank you, you’re too good to me.”

“No, I’m not. You don’t have to carry so much on your shoulders, Dew. You can let other people hold it sometimes.”

He shrugs. “Dunno how.”

He feels her smile against his hair, she kisses him again, at the base of his horn this time. She settles in, breath huffing out over his slap as she cradles him. He feels her relax beneath him, heart slowing, breathing going even. Comfortable beneath his warmth, his weight. Dew feels sleep tugging at him. He cracks his eyes open to stave it off for just a few more minutes.

“What do you want then? Something, obviously,,” Dew mumbles sleepily. Cirrus chuckles, still stroking her fingers through his hair, working through tangles. When he tips his head to look up at her, he finds her eyes closed, face open and relaxed.

“Next time you sound yourself, I want you to call me so I can come watch.”

Dew blinks at her, head tipping to the side in confusion. “That’s it?”

Cirrus laughs, she cracks an eye open, lips twisting up into that same mischievous smirk from before. “Is it ever?”

Dew pulls his gaze away from her face and puts his head back where it belongs. He sucks her nipple into his mouth, teeth dragging over it as it hardens against his tongue. Soothing more than sexual. He doesn’t answer. They both know there’s more. And Dew could ask for a clue–but he likes it better when Cirrus surprises him.

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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year

Note

Hiiii I'm back with another request. Minho x fem reader. So we are in the Glade and one day reader gets the idea for everyone to have a day of and play a game of capture the flag (if you dont know how to play that lets just play hide and seek). After BEGGING Alby for days he finally finds it a good idea and reader starts planning everything. The Gladers get put into two seperate teams while they play, Minho and reader leaders of each team CUZ WE'RE THE BEST OF THE BEST. Somehow in that game Minho and reader share some playful, aggressive, flirty, spicy/high tension moments that follow after the game as well as they get to talk about it later. Idk if it makes much sense but I'llleave the rest to your imagination ;)

YESSS I love me some flirty competition.

Also, sorry if I'm reusing gifs, this book does not get enough attention I stg.

FRIENDLY COMPETITION

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMERY: See above. Fem!Runner!Reader x Minho. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas. Based on the Glade layout in the Movies to make my life easier.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, spice content, some sexual tension (hopefully) and some good ol' competitive spirit.

It's finally happening.

Finally.

For the past few months, you've had the absolute perfect idea to raise spirits in the Glade.

It's simple but genuis- a game. And not just any game: Capture the Flag.

Alby kept saying that the Glade was fine, and that the Gladers didn't need a break- but after a particularly hard week, he caved.

Besides, if anyone could bring the Glade together and convince them to play along; it's you. Being the only girl means that the Gladers are practically climbing over each other to win your favour.

Sure, it can be kind of annoying and it greatly increases Alby's blood-pressure having to keep an eye on you. But, now that you're out in the Maze most days, having proved yourself worthy as a Runner, Alby sees you as Minho's problem more than his.

Not that Minho's complaining. He is your Keeper, after all.

He actually liked having you around. You push him to try harder, mainly because you're constantly reminding him that you're better than him. You are not better than him, you know that, but as long as Minho thinks someone is coming after his spot- he's going to try even harder.

Of course, Minho revels in the jealous looks and envy from the other Gladers for spending time with you. He enjoys seeing their faces when he comes back to the Maze, you by his side, having some kind of flirtationship about who actually got back first.

So, he might have a slight crush on you.

But, who doesn't?

Which is probably why when you brought your idea to him, he was surprisingly eager to join in.

You spent all week preparing. Including making war paint, coloured bandanas for the two teams, and, of course, the flags themselves.

Minho decides he's going to play team captain, making you both leaders of opposite sides. You'd be lying if you weren't excited.

Your competitive relationship is about to reach it's peak- and it's Minho. Come on, it's Minho. God, if he so much as looks at you with his dumb smirk for too long, your knees go weak and you want to dive on him then and there.

Yeah, you might have a thing for him. No one else has the balls to be as sarcastic or playful with you.

"Alright, you boys ready?" You stand in Council Hall, black bandana keeping your hair at bay with black stripes across your face and smeared around your eyes, creating a smokey eye effect.

You'd somehow managed to rope the other boys into it as well. Obviously, you have nearly half of the Glade on your team, but some notable members are Jeff, Gally and Frypan; with Newt, Winston and Zart choosing to side with Minho.

Alby has made the executive decision to dictate. Probably so he can make sure that no one gets injured in the flames of yours and Minho's fighting passion.

Whatever- you don't need them.

The flags are already hidden. The groups taking it in turns to find perfect places once you'd returned to the Glade for the day. You don't think the Runners have ever done their maps quicker.

You'd figured the most obvious place for a flag would be the Deadheads. And that's the first place your going to look. Minho might be quicker than you, but you're smarter.

So, obviously, you hide the black flag in a barn.

What? It's not like there's any rules saying you can't put the flags inside a building. And since one of the old barns isn't in use anymore since the Slicers opted to use more outside pens and a better constructed building nearer to the killing shack, there's an opportunity.

And you'd be a fool not to take it.

So, the Black flag is in the abandoned barn. And the White flag is yet to be found.

"Yes, ma'am," Gally responds, a lot of your team nodding in unison.

"We all know the plan?"

Another round of yes' and nods.

"Alright, let's do this!"

The rules are simple. The winner brings the opposing teams flag back to their territory. You've claimed Council Hall and the White team have the far corner, near the back of the Deadheads.

You made the choice to make the location of the flags unknown, mainly because Alby didn't want the whole thing to just be a massive fight. So, most of this is going to be trying to find the flags.

"You ready?" Alby pushes the door open and you grin at him.

"Shuck yeah."

You and your group let out war cries and chants as you make your way to the centre of the Glade. Night is starting to fall and with the Doors closed, it's all free game.

You're actually pleasantly surprised to see the other team has also gone along with you theatrics- mainly because Minho looks damn good.

He has similar fave paint to you, with the piece of white fabric tied to the belt hooks of his pants. He wears a simple tight black shirt with his signature backpack/harness. A change from his normal blue button-up.

He puts his fingers to his lips, letting out a loud wolf-whistle as you approach.

"You look good," he shouts, probably because you're wearing a tightish tank top that you normally leave for especially hot days.

"Likewise," you laugh. Your teams stand across from one another in the middle of the Glade. "You ready to lose?"

He scoffs, shaking his head, "Big words for a little girl."

"Don't try me."

"Alright," Alby already seems sick of this, even if he is hiding his amusement from watching his best Runners flirt. "You all know the rules- no violence, well, no bad violence at least, no playing dirty. And have fun- 'cause we ain't doin' this klunk again for a long time." He clears his throat. "Okay, let's get this over with. Three! Two! One! Go!"

You're not sure what Minho's plan is, but yours is cover as much ground as physically possible. Which is obvious when your entire team splits off in completely different directions. You all react so quickly that the White team doesn't move for a second.

Which is weird. But you know Minho is a tricky dude- you're not about to fall for it.

Your goal is, of course, the Deadheads, with Gally and a couple going in the same direction before cutting off. The woods are big, so it's good to have multiple pairs of eyes covering the ground.

Stumbling through the woods, you quickly come across the Map Room, which is the first place you decided to check out. Sure, Minho is smart enough to know this would be the first place you'd visit. So, he'd probably put the Whie flag there purely because he'd think you'd think it was too predictable.

Maybe you're reading too much into this.

Checking around the building, the door is very much locked. You look through the crack in the door and see nothing. You figured that putting the flag in the room is off the table since Alby would actually gut the Keeper if he dared turn their most important building into a game piece.

Realising this idea is dumb, you leave the Map Room be.

Making your way through the Deadheads, your heart jumps into your throat when you hear a twig snap. Spinning around, you hold you ground.

Suddenly, you are reminded of the very real threat of you being a girl alone in the woods in the dark.

"Hello?" Your voice wavers slightly. "Who's there?"

"Slim it, girly, who do you think?" The sound of Minho's voice as you turn and see him leaning against a tree eases you.

"Shuckin' hell, man, you tryna give me a heart attack?"

He shrugs. "If that's what it takes to win."

"There's no way I'm letting you win this."

"Oh, yeah?" He smirks, standing up straight.

"Yeah, you following me or some klunk?"

"I have better things to do," he scoffs.

"Doubt it." It takes you as second, but you realise that Minho came from the opposite way to you, which means he's either looking for your flag in here or- "wait, if you're here, and you're not following me, that means you're probably protecting your flag- then your flag has to be nearby."

Minho's face drops for a second. "You're think too much into that." You've known Minho for long enough that you can tell he's lying. His smooth facade slips and his voice becomes serious. Normally, he'd just laugh it off and call you the Glade equivalent to a dumbass.

But, not here. He's become visibly tense.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So, you won't mind if I... look around?" His jaw tenses, and he remains quiet. "'Cause I think I'm just gonna..."

With no warning, you break into a sprint, slipping past him before he gets a chance to catch you.

Though, you figure you're right when you hear Minho quick to run after you.

Ah shit.

Okay, so, you've raced Minho hundreds of times- more than you can count. But being chased by him?

That's terrifying.

Minho is absolutely faster than you. He's faster than everyone, and you suspect that even in your playful races, he's going easy on you.

But he's not now.

You shriek as he dives into you, sending you oth crashing to the forest floor. You roll a few feet, landing away from Minho as you mainly tripped with him flying over you.

After the initial shock, you scramble up, kicking leaves from under you. Minho is quick to do the same, and you adjust your stance; hands loose and protecting your face, one leg behind you.

Minho scoffs when he realises what you're doing- ready to fight him. He loosely shakes his arms, his smirk playful and full of sparks.

Despite how he's looking at you like a piece of meat, you can't afford to get distracted.

Lunging forward, he blocks you easily. You duck and swing like your life depends on it, catching yourself as you miss and fumble to the side.

You dive again, attmept to kick him, which he blocks, before trying to to punch him. Almost effortlessly, he grabs your wrist, taking you by surprise. It takes minimal effort from him to push you back, somehow managing to grab your other wrist and twisting it into his already used hand, leaving both your arms in the grip of one of his toned hands.

Your back hits the tree before you can even process what's happening, making you gasp at the contact. He pins your arms above your head, firmly holding you in place.

"You didn't seriously think you'd beat me, right?" His tone is dangerously calm and he's far too closer. Closer than he's ever dared be before.

You open your mouth, trying to think of anything to say, but heat beats against your skin as the moonlight breaks through the trees. The noise you make is a strange breathy hum, and Minho's grip loosens for a second when your eyes land on his lips.

Oh, God.

Minho can feel any power he had to begin with, slipping through his fingers when you look at him like that. Your dark-lined doe eyes make his heart beat faster, and it's such a subtle change but he's never seen you like this- so vulnerble; so under his control.

No words are exchanged as he leans closer. He can't help it, he's drawn to you. His grip almost loosens completely as his other hand brushes against your waist, sending a whole new wave of butterflies through you.

"Minho," you mumble and he swallows.

"Don't do that," he mutters equally as quiet, "don't say my name like that."

"How else would you like me to say it?"

He lets out a heavy breath. "Am I going to regret this?" It's obvious what he referring to, but you have a plan.

"Only one way to find out." He takes this as a yes, leaning further into you.

His lips ghost yours. But his grip is gone.

And you have a game to win. No matter how intoxicating Minho may be. Instead of leaning forward and kissing him, you rip hands away from him, shoving him hard in the chest.

Since you've taken him completely by surprise, he stumbles over himself and a branch, landing flat on his back.

You make no hesitation to make a real for it. Sprinting through the forest, you're kind of just running away from Minho over anything else. Looking over your shoulder like you're trapped in a horror movie, when in reality, everything in your body is screaming at you to turn around and rip Minho's clothes off.

Not fully paying attention, your foot snags on a tree root, sending you flying forward and down a hill. You plummet down, rolling and hitting the ground multiple times.

"Ah, fuck," you hiss, any pleasure from you interaction with Minho fading from your senses in an instant, immediately replaced with aching pain all over your body.

Forcing yourself to sit up and stop your head from spinning, you blink, before laughing outland to yourself.

In front of you, in all its glory, is the White flag, sticking out of the ground at a crooked angle. You struggle to stand up, limping slightly, grabbing the wooden handle and yanking the flag out of its spot in the mud.

Your victory is short-lived as crashing noises and snapping branches startle you, forcing you to retort to your defensive stance. It can't be Minho- unless he can teleport and sprint at you from the other direction.

That's made apparent when Gally comes thrashing through the greenery, falling into the greenery.

"Gally!" You hiss. "What the shuck, man?" He stares at you in awe, pointing at you, blinking as you approach, trying to keep your voice down as Minho could he close.

"You got the flag?"

It's now your turn to blink. "I got the flag."

"You got the flag!" You both laugh, high-fiving and pulling him to bump chests.

Then leaves crunch behind you.

"We should go." You state.

"Yeah, gotta go."

The pair of you start making your way out of the Deadheads, which goes about as well as you'd expect when you break through the greenery and someone on the White team immediately noticed.

"Hey!" They've got the flag!"

Fuck.

"Go! Go! Go!" You push Gally forward.

"I'm going! I'm going!"

All you have to do is get back to Council Hall. Easy- surely.

The pair of you start to book it through the open Glade, stumbling slightly and trying to dodge the White team from all angles.

Somehow, with an entire army behind you, you and Gally manage to cover solid ground. You're both very close to the Council Hall when you're rugby tackled from the left.

"(Y/N)!" Gally shouts your name as you're, once again, plastered to the floor, only for him to follow your lead.

You manage to shove the Glader off, kneeling him in the groin, scrambling on your hands and knees to grab the flag. Getting to your feet, you jump out of your skin when Minho blocks your way to the open door of Council Hall.

"Shit."

"Yeah," he swallows, looking like he's ready to pounce on you, "shit."

He's mad. God, is he mad. Though, he's also experiencing new frustrations more than he ever has before.

"Throw it!" Gally shouts, managing to just about stop someone from choking him. "Throw the shuckin' flag!"

Dipping to the side and swerving Minho, you javelin throw the flag, sending it flying straight through the doors.

You stand in shock, Minho staring at the door. Silence fills the Glade for a second before you hear Frypan cheer.

The entire Black team's chants and cheering echo off of the walls as Gally walks up to you.

"We won!" He laughs, throwing his arms around you as you hug him back, letting out a hearty laugh before Frypan, Jeff and some other team members join in.

They start cheating your name, the other team groaning but begrudgingly coming over to congratulate you.

You're too swept into your victory to even get a chance to talk to Minho until you're deep into your celebrations.

A bit tipsy, with enough liquid confidence to face him, you walk over. He's sat on his own, staring into the flames of the Celebratory Bonfire, a glass jar in his hands.

It's no shock to anyone that he's thinking about the evening's events. Mainly your interaction in the Deadheads.

He can't get it out of his head- the way you looked at him, lips parted, chest rising and falling, your hands held above your head; even just thinking about it is making his head go fuzzy.

"Hey," he's sucked out of his thoughts of you by, well, you as you approach him from behind.

"Hi," he sounds a mix of intrigued and irritated, like he wants to hear what you have to say- preferably an explanation.

"Figured I should come over," you say honestly as you swing your leg over the side of the log, straddling it as you face him.

"Did you, now?" His bitterness is painfully obvious and you roll your eyes.

"You're mad at me."

"Who said that?"

"No one had to say anything- you're sat here pouting and haven't spoken to me."

He scoffs, dropping his head. "I'm not pouting- I- I'm not even mad." He laughs, more at himself than you. "I can't believe I fell for it- shuck, that's the kinda klunk I'd pull if I could. I just- I didn't expect that from you. Still a dirty trick, though."

You suddenly feel anxious. "I didn't- it wasn't meant to be a trick." You stutter over your words, basically mumbling the last part as you drop your gaze, avoiding his.

"What?" He blinks at you and you shake your head.

"Doesn't matter- what did you think of my hiding place?" You change the subject, forcing a wicked grin to avoid the burning feeling you're starting to feel in your face.

"What do you mean?" He takes the bait, not wanting the awkward conversation anymore than you do- but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about.

"The Black flag? What did you think of my hiding spot?" Minho falls silent, his face dropping before turning into a sheepish grin, which tells you more than enough. "Oh, my God- you didn't find it, did you?"

"W-well, I didn't- I wasn't-!"

You let out a loud laugh. "Oh, my God," you repeat, "you don't know where it is!"

"I wasn't looking for the shuckin' flag! That was meant to me Newt's job- I was just tryna guard ours since I figured you'd go straight on the offensive."

"So, Newt didn't find it then?"

"'Course he shuckin' didn't." You snort at this. "Where is it then? Hm? Where've you hidden it, oh mysterious one?"

You stand up, swinging your other leg over and smiling down at him. "I think it's better if I show you- c'mon."

Minho shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink, but he stands up, jogging to catch up with you as you walk away.

You lead him further through the Glade, your lack of presence not going unnoticed by the Gladers; especially Newt who forced Minho to explain why they lost.

Leading him to the old farm area, it's hard to see in the darkness, but you can still make out his puzzled expression. You grin devilishly as you reach the old barn, pushing open the door and playfully bowing.

The hole on the roof lets the moonlight, illuminating the ink-dark fabric of your skillfully crafted trophy.

"You gotta be shuckin' kidding me," he grumbles as he walks past you, towards the fall that takes pride of place, sticking out of a pile of old hay in the middle of the room. "The abandoned barn? Seriously?" He walks backwards, having spun around to face you.

"Yes, Sir," you joke as follow him, the loose door slamming behind you without your weight on it.

"Sneaky son of a bitch," Minho laughs to himself. "I woulda never thought of this." He turns back around, walking closer to the flag.

"I know," you skip after him, slipping your hands into the back pockets of your baggy pants as you rock on your heel once you reach him. "'That's why I did it. You might have the looks, Boss, but I've got the brain." You playfully point at your temple as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

"You think I've got the looks?" You blink at him, his tone now flirty.

"That's not what I meant," you're quick to take it back.

"Oh, yeah?" He turns towards you stepping forward, and you refuse to be a coward and step back, so you hold your ground. "What? Just another dirty trick then, hm?"

You grimace. "It wasn't a dirty trick."

He steps closer. "What was it then?"

"That wasn't meant to happen," your voice lowers as your breath hitches, feeling that same powerlessness you experiences before, except he's yet to lay a single finger on you. "That wasn't planned."

"That doesn't answer my question, does it?"

"Minho.."

"I've already warned you about that."

"About what?"

"Saying my name like... that. Looking at me like that; I can't take it." He closes his eyes, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath.

"What are you trying to say here?"

"You're joking, right?" He pulls his head back to look at you again. "Do you seriously expect me to spend every day with you- competing, flirting, challenging me, and for me to not be attracted to you? I thought I made that pretty obvious." A beat passes as you try to process the new situation you're in.

"You have no idea how it feels watching every guy here want you, blindly listen to you, just because they'd do anything to have you- when I'm just as bad. But I know you, better than any of these shanks do. You don't want someone who will bend to your will and worship the ground you walk on; you want someone that'll push back a bit, someone who will give what they can take. Right? Because I don't know what to do anymore and if you hadn't made a break for it earlier, I would've, I could've- I don't know what I- shuck it! We wouldn't be friends anymore, that's for sure."

You've seen Minho like this. You never heard Minho like this. He sounds almost desperate, his voice is deep, and you can smell the musky scent of earth and natural soap off of him.

"I don't even know what I'm saying here. I don't wanna mess this up but I cant fucking take this anymore. I just-"

You cave, leaning in and silencing him as you lips press to his. It's a quick peck more than anything as you pull away again. "You talk too much," you mutter.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, eyes dipping into you before he pushes forward. Kissing you again, his hands fly to your waist, pulling you close and making you gasp.

Your hands come to his hair, allowing him to grasp at you, his fingers kneading into the skin of your hips under your shirt. He pushes you backwards, hitting your back against one of the fragile beams.

His tongue brushes against your bottom lip, and you part yours in response, allowing your tongues to brush for a second. You repeat the motion, the make-out session becoming more hungry and needy. You drop your arms, pulling at the hem of his shirt instead but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head once again.

He leaves your lips, making you whimper as he feathers kisses up your jaw, coming up to your ear. He kisses your tragus, letting himself move further down and pulling your lobe between his teeth. You let out a gasp, arching into him before he suddenly sinks his teeth into your neck.

Well, sinks is too strong of a word, but his teeth brush against the sensitive flesh as he kisses it before starting to suck on it, undoubtedly marking you- almost like he's claiming you.

He repeats the action as he moves further down.

Your eyes flicker around, and for some reason, the hay and the slight breeze and the still-standing flag makes you chuckle.

"What?" His breathing is heavy and his voice is rough and scratchy, but he continues.

"Minho?" You properly get his attention, sounding equally as drunk on lust.

"Yeah?"

"We're not having sex in a barn."

He freezes, pulling away from your neck as he blinks at you. "Huh?"

"We are not having sex in a barn," you repeat, starting to smile slightly.

"Right, yeah," he seems to come to his senses, releasing your wrists before he snorts. You can't help but laugh too, resulting in the pair of you giggling in the middle of the empty room.

"Shuck," he mumbles, "the hell's gotten into me?" This makes you giggle more, then you leans forward again, pecking him on the lips as you drape your arms around his shoulders, and he lets his fall to your waist.

"Though, we... we could go to my hut?" You bite your bottom lip as a sly smirk starts to creep across his face.

"Yeah? You sure?"

You nod. "Couldn't be more so."

Yooo, back again with some Minho spice. This was really fun to write and I love writing some tense flirty competition- which of course means I want to write an Enemies to Lovers with Minho but I don't quite have the idea. Any suggestions?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed :))

#🍃 petri tmr #🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri tmr minho #🌿 petri writes tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho tmr #minho the maze runner #minho tmr x reader #tmr imagines #minho maze runner

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mysticficti0n · 11 months

Text

All my attention Part 5

warnings- swearing, drinking, protectiveness, so much flirting

words- 4k

If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series

a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well, sorry this part has taken a while-

(also would anyone want to be on a tallest?? plz put if you'd like to ♥︎)

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backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?

I stood in my room ferreting through my clothes to find something to wear for the interview which was coming a lot faster than I thought, I decided on a army green booty skirt with a cream belt, a white tank top, gold jewellery and my hair tied back in a bun, my make up was pretty usual besides my red lips lined in black but I mean if I can pull it off- why not?

Hurriedly I grabbed my shoes, deciding on my chunky platforms and a purse holding lip gloss, lip liner, spray, my phone, a pen and keys. The boys and their families went home after breakfast around 10 meaning we could all spend time with our families for a few hours, the Kaulitz' left a little later as being our neighbours they didn't have much of a drive to get home. Gordon, the twins step dad agreed to driving us 3 to the studio while Georg drove him and Gustav as they lived near to each other

"Y/n sunshine! Tom is out side" my mom called from the bottom of the stairs

"okay!" I shouted back and came storming down the stairs, I saw my mom's eyes light up and a smile decorate her already beautiful face "like it?" I twirled

"You look wonderful! oh my- Martin get in here look at our daughter!" she called getting my dad in who was holding Stella "look!"

"Baba look pretty!" Stella grinned

"she does doesn't she, we'll be watching tonight sweetheart" with 3 quick kisses I ran out the house waving goodbye and Tom laughed as I stumbled down the step

"shut up look at the size of these I'm not exactly gain" I huffed steading myself, I looked up and saw the boy handing is arm which I gladly took to get down and jump the wall dividing our house

"we need your help- well I need your help, Bill wants your opinion on his fit but I don't know what to wear so I’m more important" Tom sighed, at the moment he was just in a wife beater and jorts, his dreads in a mess around his head "and- I need to show you something"

"well lets go then!" we hurried into the house and Bill was sipping a coke and smiled seeing me walk through

"Y/N YES LOOK AT YOU!" he snapped his fingers as I model stepped in, 'flipping' my hair and blowing a kiss "alright what about me?" he was in a black leather jacket, matching black skinny jeans, a Dimond skull belt and chains around his neck, hair on end (in a good way) and a deep smokey eye

"absolutely- I fucking love it!" he smiled getting all giddy "bad bitch vibes- or a good fuckable emo, either really" the boy blushed wrapping me in a hug

"okay go help useless over here now" I rolled my eyes and followed the other Kaulitz up the stairs to his room where clothes were dropped everywhere

"so... what happened?' I asked seeing him shrug "right well... these jeans- dark denim is a look then, where's your green and yellow cap?" I asked seeing him pull a draw open full of at least 50 hats

"what head thing?" he spoke opening the draw above "black?" I nodded opening his wardrobe and pulling a yellow and dark green print, white back shirt out (this is the fits)

"here, change" I spoke seeing him pull his vest off and quickly put the new shirt over, he was finally done fixing individual strands of hair in his ponytail and sprayed a dark smelling cologne on "okay that looks GOOD" I complemented seeing a smile form on his lips

"oh I can show you the thing now" he laughed walking into the hall and bring a small box back in "look I'm proposing!" he got onto his knee holding the said box

"oh Tom-" I played pretending to wipe my eyes "I do!" he shoved me away and opened the box revealing a small ring- gold and had our band logo engraved in it "holy shit! thats amazing!" I called pulling the ring out "do we all have one" the boy excitedly nodded pulling his hand up showing a bigger and chunkier version

"mom got them for us 5, they're so cool" I nodded admiring the metal around my finger "Bill's and Gustav's are in silver as they prefer it"

"god I love your mom" I sighed happily standing up and walking into the hall "THANK YOU SIMMY!" her laugh filled the hall followed by a 'no problem doll'

"KIDS COME ON WE NEED TO GO!" Gordons voice echoed from down stairs and in great style and slow steps me and Tom got into the car, in the backseat as Bill was first in "we have to hurry up its already 25 past" he grumbled starting the engine

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"Welcome to the red seats- Tokio Hotel!" our interviewer names Karter Male introduced, monsoon began playing in the background followed by many screams, Bill was pushed on first closely followed by the rest of us and as we all came into view the noise only got louder "ahah welcome!" we all smiled waving to the people

"hi!" we laughed, Bill was closest to the table followed by Tom, me Georg and Gustav who were relaxing back into the seats "thank you for having us" Bill began

"no its our pleasure, so would you like to introduce yourselves for the people who don't know you all?" we nodded and looked to our lead singer

"oh- I'm Bill Kaulitz, lead singer on Tokio Hotel"

"Hey, I'm Tom Kaulitz, his brother also older by ten minuets and I play electric guitar for Tokio Hotel"

"hello, I'm Y/n Y/l/n, the backing singer for Tokio Hotel" I herd a wolf whistle come from the audience causing me to giggle "thank you" but the boy to the left of me face dropped but I tried to ignore his mood

"evening, I'm Georg Listing and I play bass for Tokio Hotel"

"hi I'm Gustav schäfer and i play drums for Tokio Hotel" claps filled the room and the interviewer grinned

"so now we know you recently got back from doing a mini-tour sort of thing right?" murmurs of 'yes' and 'yeah' ran through us five until Bill started talking

"yesterday actually, we did our last show in the afternoon and all went back to Y/n's parents house for the night and seeing our families was a massive relief as we hadn't seen them in weeks"

"thats wonderful, well going back onto your small tour we herd in Tier that there was a new song? and its was sang by Y/n, can you tell us little about that?" Karter looked to me and I looked to the boys who gave me the nod

"of course, it's called 'Don't jump' and it has so much meaning and I mean nobody has all day to listen to me ramble but its from when I was in a very dark place due to privet things and instead of being sad 24/7 I made it into lyrics and I finally performed it in Tier, I think next shows when we play it Bill will sing as he's much better than I am" I laughed hearing the crow 'aw' at me "but yeah its a beautiful song- not to blow my own horn or anything" The interview carried on and the boys getting asked different thing then turned to the 'public questions'

"so we've had a few questions from your adoring fans who will be watching from home, this one is for all of you actually- from Hallie, 15, she said 'hello Tokio Hotel, my question is- are you all single or seeing people?' so?" I watched as Georg and Gustav nodded their heads saying 'yes we are' Tom and Bill also but then I remembered I hadn't come out publicly about my spilt yet

"yeah we all are" I spoke hearing a gasp but quickly brushed it off

"well erm... next question for Tom from Suzana 'Hey Tom, I was wondering if you have a type?'" the audience laughed as the guitarist became a little tense, scratching his neck

"well.. if you're pretty and have a nice smile I don't have a issue" girls in the crowd cheered and a blush covered his cheeks, I patted his shoulder to which he looked back to me pulling his lips taught as if to say 'what the fuck'

"right, our next questions will be from the audience!, so let's start" we watched a runner hop up the stairs to a smiling blonde girl who was wearing a tour shirt

"Hi! I'm Rebecca and I have a question for Gustav!" we watched as the boys eyes lit up and a smile spread on his face "I was wondering what your favourite song- out side of the band- is to play?" that was surprisingly quite a nice question

"oh erm... I like quite rock sorta music so probably Nirvana?" she thanked him and blew a kiss to which his cheeks only got redder, the runner went to another girl, smaller and younger looking with brown piggytails

"hello... I'm Francine and I have a question for Y/n" my eyes softened seeing her nervousness

"lets hear it!" I grinned

"I- I was wondering whats your favourite colour and why? because I think you look beautiful in green and purple!" she giggled making me pout at her sweetness, Tom was smiling at me as I held my heart

"aw thank you Francine thats so nice of you, I'd say my favourite colour is... baby yellow though I never wear it, my mom calls me sunshine and that colour reminds me of her" the girl said her thanks and the questions continued

"so this will be our last question for Tokio Hotel tonight as our show is near an end!" Karter spoke pointing to the camera and it spun to the last fan

"hey guys! I love you all so much by the way- but my question is for Tom and Y/n" me and the boy looked to each other then back to the brunette "I'm guessing you've seen the ships between you on social media?" being the only girl in a group of 4 boys sometimes came with it's downsides, those being 'shipped' with all of them and people making up rumours "the most common being that you two secretly love each other, well I was wondering if any part of that was true?" I let my laugh slip but Tom's brows furrowed

"yes I do love Y/n, she's one of the most important people in my life of course but the way people make us out is completely wrong- she's like a sister I mean she may as well be related to me and Bill we've know each other since we were what born?" I nodded listening to his words but I couldn't help but know that everything the fans imagined wasn't completely wrong.. and he knew that too

"yeah like he said we love each other but its platonic!" I added seeing the crowd sigh at the disappointment

"you'd make a good couple though" Karter added "you'd be the hottest new thing since people like Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore" I rolled my eyes at the words but Tom seemed to like the idea and shoved me with his elbow "thats all we have time for folks, thank you Tokio Hotel for being here tonight! bye!" we all waved and the crowd applauded, the lights dimmed meaning we all had to go backstage.

"he's gonna come back here in a second to have photos with you guys so if you'd like to wait in the dressing room please feel free!" a runner smiled looking to us pointing up the hall, we all walked into the air conditioned room and fell onto the matching red sofas from set

"that was I think the most comfortable interview we've ever done" I spoke scratching my head, fixing my hair. Tom scoffed folding his arms "what? don't you guys agree?"

"I think he was playing favourites all the way through" Bill spoke opening a water "but yeah it was fine"

"I agree" Georg added, I personally didn't know what their issue was but I mean they are edgy, angry teen boys anything ticked them off. we sat in silence until the door opened with Karter smiling widely at the five of us

"Ah Tokio Hotel- thank you for tonight it went beautifully! shall we take some photos?" he asked fixing his suit jacket as we all stood "perfect, follow me" he instructed going out the door, Bill grabbed the door before It slammed into us all and held it open nodding his head allowing me first to which I whispered a quick thank you and slipped through following the man "okay so erm.. shall we have twins next to me, then Y/n on this side with Gustav and Georg" we all lined up in front of the photographer who was bending with a camera

"3...2..1" he spoke clicking the button and a flash blared our eyes "grate, we'll get a few more" he spoke fixing his position

"so what did you think of the interview guys?" Karter asked looking to his side "fun?" his hand which was now on the small of my back jolted slightly

"ah yeah it was nice we were just saying" I answered as the boys stayed silent "the people who asked the questions were so sweet" the photos continued and so did his hand, slowly his hand went my hip, thigh and then as he moved it to my ass I pulled away "were not doing that" I quickly spoke pulling my own hand away from being behind him

"sorry- its very inviting!" his eyes narrowed looking down and back up to me

"we're fucking done-" Bill started walking out the room and going to the exit door followed by Georg and Gustav as he shouted curses

"Y/n come on" Tom grabbed my arm shoving the man out the way "she's fucking 17 you prick" I didn't get a look at the man after that before Tom was yanking me through the doors out the building to the car where his step-dad was stood "were going straight home"

"Bill went with the lads" Gordon pointed as Georg's car pulled from the space with a roar of the engine "come on we need to be quick the meal is in like an hour and a half"

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"hey darlings how was the interview?" Simone asked as we went into the Kaulitz' house "it looked good"

"we're never going on that show again" Tom murmured walking to the kitchen and grabbing a drink from the fridge "fucking looking Y/n up and down like she was someone to hook up with"

"what!" Simone started looking to me "are you okay sweetheart?" I nodded my head realising what Tom said

"anyways I need to shower" the twin grumbled walking up the stairs "Y/n I need you first" he shouted back down the stairs

"oh okay- sorry Simmy I'll be back" she smiled turning back to the tv as I made my way up the stairs to the boys room where I could here him shuffling about saying things to himself "Tom?" I walked in to see him standing at his mirror top off and belt half way undone

"shut the door" I did as he said looking at him oddly, I turned and shut the door behind my self and looked back to him "you didn't see what he was doing that whole interview did you?" I shook my head no "right well we all did, he was trying to see up your skirt- stared right at your tits, lips, eyes, legs- everything" I felt a lump in my throat as his brown eyes became darker looking at me "and no man can do that to you-" I nodded stepping over to him and wrapping my arms around him hiding my face in his color bone

"well though I fucking hate that- I'm okay don't get worked up okay? this sounds so cringy but he can't touch me like that ever again either because I'll brake his wrist" Tom looked down to me with a small smile spreading along his lips as he played with his lip piercing

"yeah nobody can ever fucking touch you there" I rolled my eyes seeing his eyes go serious in a jokey way "unless its me of course"

"oh yeah- of course, anyways you need a shower and come my house after help me chose my outfit for tonight" he nodded hugging me back quickly before going to his shower leaving me to go back home

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I was sat in my bedroom flicking through my radio until I found a station playing a song I liked, Brittany Spears started playing, I started dancing around my room like I was her and nodding my head along to the lyrics of freak show 'Make it a Freakshow freakshow We can give 'em a Peepshow, peepshow Don't stop it let it flow Let your inhibitions go It's a crazy night Let's make a make a freakshow'

"Y/n!" I scream left my mouth as I turned to see Tom stood in my door frame laughing "what the fuck are you doing?"

"can you knock! I think I shit myself" he pulled his fist to the door and knocked with a cocky smile "haha" I spoke sarcastically, soon he fully walked into the room and my jaw did nearly fall to the floor, he was in black suit bottoms and a white button up blouse, rings around his fingers and his necklace on show, dreads in a messy bun

"wow! you look good! pulling out all the stops Thomas" I complemented seeing him become a little shy "genuinely you look amazing"

"thanks, I mean were going to the Stadtpfeiffer restaurant so I wanna look good" he popped his chest looking at himself in the mirror "what are you wearing?" he asked looking at me as I stood in joggers and a tank top

"a dress but can't decide which, wanna chose?" I'd never seen him walk quicker in my life, the doors flew open revealing all my 'fancier' clothes and his hands moved quickly through the hangers, until he pulled a red dress with a black rose lace pattern on top "really? don't think this might be a bit scandalous for a family dinner?" Tom smirked placing the dress onto the chair and turned back to the wardrobe "wait- no don't open tha-" I watched as his hand reached for the draw full of my 'sexy' clothes

"fucking hell Y/n how many thongs do you need?" he laughed looking back at me, he dug through them until he pulled a red lacy Victoria secret pantie out and threw it at me "here, wear that underneath" with a sigh I went to the bathroom and slipped into the clothes, I stared into the mirror and regretted ever letting him chose my outfit "let me see!" he called from the other room

"okay-" I walked into my bedroom and his eyes widened, lip tucked between his teeth and his hands dug harder into the bed "like?" I asked twirling

"like is a understatement" Tom hummed "god you look so hot right now- I literally don't have words" a small blush painted my cheeks as I stepped into my full body mirror, I turned to check my reflection but all I could see was the guitarist staring in awe

"my eyes are here" I laughed seeing him nod "okay well make up and hair now" the boy seemed to be confused "what?"

"you don't have make up on?" I shook my head turning to him "so you are just naturally gorgeous? fuck" I rolled my eyes sitting on the chair where the dress once lay, I pulled my make up draw open and picked out my foundation and began the process I came to love over the tour, dark eyes and a dark red lip , next my hair I decided to have it straight down and hair-sprayed it into place

"okay I'm done!' Tom looked up from the magazine he found himself flicking through and a smile spread across his face "too much?" I asked seeing his head shake "sure?"

"you look perfect Y/n" I grinned standing and going over to the wall wear my jewellery hung grabbing a necklace and a few rings and bracelets "you need shoes" Tom quipped abruptly going into the box under my bed full of misilanious shoes, he rummaged through for a while before pulling out my chunky Mary Janes I sat back on the sheets of my bed waiting for him to hand over the shoes but he stayed down, grabbing my ankle and slowly slipped the shoe onto my foot "Tell me when the shoes tight enough alright?" I nodded seeing him thread the strap through and pulling it taught

"there" he quickly pressed the buckle through and moved to my right foot doing the same before kissing my bare knees "you are so cute Kaulitz" soon his hands reached mine and we stood together "thank you- I love it all"

"no problem"

The time ticked slowly as me and Tom waited for everyone to be ready as in fairness we were done quite quickly, I sat at the desk with my computer on, flicking through web pages while Tom was messing around with my ukulele that one day just appeared in my room. I scrolled down a page until I saw a subtitle of 'picture ideas' and I immediately knew what we'd be doing to pass the time, the first one was the girl holding the camera above the couple and the boy holding her- perfect

"come here were taking these photos" I called bring the boy back to me, he stood fixing his outfit and passing me my phone and standing with me "okay so you need to-"

"I can see what I've gotta do babe" Tom soothed into my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist and placing his forehead into the crook of my neck "take it" with a click of my button the photo snapped, and we did this about 50 more times, standing in the mirror, at the window, and my poster wall

"perfect" I smiled flicking through the pictures "we look so good" cheering I looked back to see Tom looking to me, eyes scanning my body and face "you okay?"

"fine, just can't stop staring" a blush tinted my cheeks, over the past few days the flirting gone from funny to romantic giving me new feelings of giddiness every time

"Tom your making me red" my cheeks were aching from the smile I couldn't hold back

"good"

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

the clock struck 8:45pm meaning everyone getting in the cars to go to the Stadtpfeiffer, Bill had come back earlier and so the Kaulitz went in their car and I went with my family, me and Stella sat in the back dancing along to the music playing on the radio "what were you and Tom doing Sunshine? I could hear you laughing like you've just seen the funniest thing in the world!" I sighed with a smile to her words

"oh taking stupid photos together" but they weren't stupid- anything but, every time I looked at one my stomach felt ticklish and my chest heaved with a feeling I couldn't explain

"oh very nice, you'll have to show me" I laughed at her words mumbling a line of 'sure' after another 20 minuets we finally arrived and it look beautiful, the yellow haze lights illuminating the entrance and fancy jazz music filled our ears "oh my-"

After us the Kaulitz' arrived, the boys walked straight over to me laughing about something "evening" Bill nudged to me "I have something to tell you after by the way" I looked oddly at the boy who only smiled and followed his stepdad to my dad, I turned to Tom who shrugged

"you smell good" I commented smelling his cologne

"Paco Rabanne" he spoke lifting his arm to me so I could smell it better "oh and send me those photos will you, I need them" his voice became seductive making my knees weak and I all I did was hum in response "thank you angel"

“Stop it Thomas- we’re in public” I giggled seeing his eyebrows rise

“That’s only gonna make me worse” my heart stoped for a moment at his words- what’s did he mean by worse?

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fereldanwench · 2 months

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OC Interview - Valerie Powell

I was tagged by @gloryride forever ago to interview my girl--Thank you, bb! I'm so late to doing this that I'm not gonna tag anyone else, but feel free to yoink it if you wanna do it!

[Answers are directly from Valerie's POV before the heist in 2077.]

.ೃ࿔*:･ NAME?

Valerie Irene Powell. [laughs] Yeah, my initials are VIP. My dad had a dorky sense of humor, and my mom let him get away with it. "Irene" is my great-grandmother's first name on her side of the family.

.ೃ࿔*:･ NICKNAME?

Pretty much just "V" these days, which was all Jackie's doing. A lot of the staff and some regulars at Nishimura's used to call me "Blue," but that was ages ago. Overly familiar acquaintances who don't know me well but think they do usually call me "Val."

.ೃ࿔*:･ GENDER?

Biologically female, no gender alterations or augmentations.

A/N - Valerie is a cis woman, but I don't see that specific language being in her vernacular.

.ೃ࿔*:･ STAR SIGN?

I was born in Night City on October 12 2041. Misty tells me that makes me a, uh--Hey, Misty, what am I again?

[Misty, calling from the other room: Libra Sun with a Taurus Moon and Scorpio Rising!]

Yeah, that. [laughs] Whatever the hell that even means.

.ೃ࿔*:･ HEIGHT?

Tall. 5'10" or 178 cm. And I admit I have a weakness for a sexy pair of heels, so I usually look a lot taller.

.ೃ࿔*:･ ORIENTATION?

People are out here fucking cyborgs with four eyes and chicks with gold dicks and electric nipples--What does this even mean? [laughs] I've never given it much thought. I like what I like, and I've liked a lot of different types of people with a lot of different things going on. [laughs again]

A/N: I say Valerie is bi, because that is the contemporary real-life word that best reflects her sexuality for me when I'm talking about her, but when I was really thinking about it from her POV and in the context of her world, I don't think she'd be too hung up on a label. She'd also probably see her wide spectrum of attraction as closer to the default, not the exception.

.ೃ࿔*:･ NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY?

I'm a typical American mutt. My dad's side of the family can mostly be traced back to Western Europe--my grandmother told me "Powell" is an Anglicized form of an old Welsh surname--and my mom's side is from the Eastern Mediterranean. Dad's side has been in NUSA for a long time (like two centuries before it was even called NUSA), but Mom's family has only been here for a few generations.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVE FRUIT?

I just love fresh fruit. It's such a rare treat in Night City--I'll take fresh strawberries or melons over any other kind of sweet treat.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVE SEASON?

Spring! When everything starts turning green and flowers are blooming. There aren't a ton of places in Night City where you can really experience that, but I know a few hidden gems.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVE FLOWER?

Hydrangeas, probably. Especially the blue and purple ones. Oh, and wisteria! A tree covered in blooming wisteria is one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVE SCENT?

Freshly brewed coffee; new car smell; woodsy, smokey colognes and perfumes; real leather; whatever incense Misty uses in her shop; clothes right out of the dryer; lavender; a ton more that I know I'm forgetting!

.ೃ࿔*:･ COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE?

Strong coffee, black, maybe a little sugar if I'm feeling indulgent. Tea is nice, but it's not my caffeine fix. I like a cup of lavender or chamomile tea at night. Hot chocolate is too heavy and rich for my taste. A sip is nice, but I could never finish a cup.

.ೃ࿔*:･ AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP?

I try not to get any fewer than 6 hours, but that's easier said than done some nights. Okay, most nights.

.ೃ࿔*:･ DOG OR CAT PERSON?

You know, I've only ever seen one dog in person. A childhood friend's family had one--I don't know the breed, but it was a yippy little shit and it bit me! Never really wanted to see another dog, if I'm honest.

I like cats, though. There's a stray that hangs by Misty's place--He's the sweetest little guy. I picked up a bag of kibble we keep there to feed him when he comes around.

.ೃ࿔*:･ DREAM TRIP?

I've actually traveled a lot--My parents had to go to Biotechnica's HQ in Rome a few times when I was a kid, and they usually turned those trips into an excuse to have an extended European vacation. And I went all over the globe working for Arasaka for 7 years. I'd love to go back to Japan for non-work reasons.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVORITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER?

You're gonna laugh, it's so predictable. In my defense, I can't remember the last time I watched or read anything new--Actually, that's not true. Jackie made me watch one of those Bushido movies last week, and I just don't get it. Anyway. It's Elizabeth Bennet. Don't look at me--What's the next question?

.ೃ࿔*:･ NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH?

Just a sheet and comforter.

.ೃ࿔*:･ RANDOM FACT?

Oh, no, don't put me on the spot like this! [laughs] Um, okay, I shot my first firearm when I was about 7. Under intense adult supervision--My dad was really serious about self-defense and the right to bear arms, which always surprised people because he came across as such a meek science nerd. I didn't like it--It was so loud, even with earmuffs. Funny how things change.

Is that kind of a heavy note to leave on? [laughs again] Okay, how about this one: I can't roll my tongue.

#fem v #female v #fem v friday #oc: valerie v powell #g: cyberpunk 2077 #long post #so the fave character one really confounded me bc who the fuck are fictional characters in this world lmao #and then i was like well we could go classic lit since that still exists #and valerie was a bit of a book nerd when she was younger #and i was like omg valerie is 100% a closet romantic we gotta go austen #and the gender and orientation ones stumped me a bit too bc i just really don't think these would be seen the same way as they are irl #i think valerie would find both questions kind of odd #this was a lot of fun to do though #and the nickname thing was a bit of fun projection from my own irritation at acquaintances calling me a shortened version of my name #that i dont like lmao

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dballzposting · 3 months

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CHICHI IS INSANE

I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT VIDEL SAYS THAT ??!! She doesn't say anything that explicit in regular DBZ (This is Kai). Even in the subbed version of Kai she doesn't say that.

Interesting verb of choice. There are many ways to communicate what she did, but using the verb "jump" as a transitive verb is honestly one of the nicest ways to put it, obviously it's vulgar but you don't rope in other expletives to make it so, and it's a nice and common verb in its regular usage.

To be honest the only noteworthy (perhaps just the only?) time that I've heard it used that way was in Smokey And The Bandit (1977). Videl has definitely seen that movie and she definitely has thoughts on it. Her father definitely has it on DVD and then also Blue-ray

Chichi changes her tune as soon as she finds out that Videl has money. VERY TYPICAL CHICHI BEHAVIOR.

Gohan is sitting there trying to eat very politely because they have company and he wants to look normal. He does not do anything about the drama of his mother because she is the matriarch and he cannot tell her to mind her manners in any way shape or form or else he'll get the spoon

Gohan Spits Rice All Over Goten's Face and Goten barely even blinks about it. Doesn't even wipe his face. Completely unperturbed. The most he does is that he arrests all activity while it's happening but then as soon as it's over he jumps in with what he's excited to say, much more concerned with the emotional impact of what he's heard rather than the physical impact of what just happened to him.

ALREADY-WROTE-THE-POST EDIT: I raised the audio and exported the video again and I just noticed THE COUGH AND GIGGLE. This is arguably worse. He's not even startled enough to momentarily freeze. He spits and laughs through it. There is nothing that can unsettle this kid

We've repeatedly seen in Goten both an innate sense of justice and a healthy aggression in regards to defending that (off the top of my head: when he demanded that Gohan stop making fun of him that he couldn't fly, when he gets mad at Trunks for breaking the rules during their tournament battle, when he YELLS AT VEGETA when Vegeta knocks Trunks out), but this rice thing is fine. It doesn't at all register as a breach of his boundaries. Sensory wise he is totally okay with it. There was a scene earlier on where he was laughing while a dinosaur licks his face. He's totally cool with this sort of stuff

Honestly he probably gets it, he's done it before. I'm sure that there have been times where he was eating too fast (every time) and then he slips up and starts choking and he has to slam his hand on the table like a grown man and turn to the side and hack onto the floor. And then maybe he offers an "excuse me" to be polite if his mother gives him a chastising look, but otherwise he just goes right back to wolfing shit down. So honestly Gohan spitting rice all over and across the table is nothing new at all. Like Goten has definitely done that.

Again he doesn't even wipe his face before talking. Doesn't even put his bowl down or anything

#dballz posting #dballz vids #chichi #gohan #goten #videl

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frangipanilove · 26 days

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The Book Of Carol; A Damn Romance Novel...?

...ok hear me out before you go into anaphylactic shock...

I came across an interesting gif set in the Daryl Dixon tag the other day. It was by zehiiro on Tumblr, and I truly thought it was a great observation. I don’t want to tag them in case they'd rather not be dragged into Bethyl/TD stuff and thangs, but the parallels were convincing, and they deserve cred for their observation. Naturally, I interpret it differently than they do, but I will never claim to have the full truth on how anything in TWDU is meant to be interpreted. I can only offer my point of view, and I quite enjoy reading other people's perspectives, it's often very enlightening.

In any case, the parallels are solid, here's a screenshot:

It makes a lot of sense if what we saw in Carol's sneak peak was shot intentionally to reference the scene from 7x10 New Best Friends. This was after Carol and Daryl had been apart for an extended period of time, just as they are in the current timeline. It was directly before they reunited, something we have to assume will happen relatively soon after the sneak peak takes place in current time. And it references a scene that, in my opinion, heralds rebirth, reunion and resurrection. I'll try to explain how below.

In 7x10 New Best Friends, Daryl has an altercation with Richard, because Richard wants to set up Carol to be killed by the Saviors, in an attempt to lure Ezekiel to go to war, along with Rick, against the Saviors.

Daryl, of course, has major objections to the idea. They fight, right next to a trailer decorated with horses, that we later learned was actually used in the movie Smokey and the Bandit. I wrote about that in an old post of mine, read it here.

Interestingly, we saw a callback to that trailer recently in TOWL 1x5 Become...

...after Rick and Michonne had escaped in that yellow car we all knew was a reference to a selection of yellow objects seen through the years...

...such as Beth's yellow polo, and a certain yellow Ford Mustang from season 2...

Remember Carol's blue Ford Mustang? I wrote about it here and here. Mustangs are horses, and I believe these shots were specifically included in reference to the symbolism around Mustangs, and I mean both the horses and the cars here.

This shot of Carol's blue Ford Mustang from TWDDD 1x6 Coming Home, shows the licence plate that points to TWD 5x2, which was when Carol and Daryl discovered a Grady car, and followed it into Atlanta, and eventually located Beth.

And like I expanded on in the post about the yellow symbolism, it all derives from Carol's yellow Jeep Cherokee from season one, plus the aforementioned yellow Ford Mustang from season 2...

...which happens to have the same licence plate as the car that Carol and Daryl drove to follow the Grady car to Atlanta, which eventually led them to Beth...

...and which I believe is a reference to the Lincoln Continental Beth and Daryl hid in in 4x12 Still (because the LC on the licence plate, in my opinion, could represent "Lincoln Continental").

What happens directly after Daryl and Richard's fight by the mustang/horse trailer, is that Daryl makes his way over to Carol's house. He knocks on her door, and reunites with Carol after a long time apart. And what is Carol doing right before she opens her door?

She’s reading a damn romance novel, called Denim Dreams, with a familiar looking Sirius Piggyback on the cover:

Sirius Piggyback; The Literal Book Of Carol

Below, we see the actual Sirius Piggyback from 4x13 Alone, along with the stock photo from Shutterstock that was used as the cover photo for Carol's damn romance novel:

In 4x13 Alone, Daryl carried Beth, piggyback-style, across a cemetary. In 7x10 New Best friends, Carol lived in a little YELLOW house, near a cemetary, enjoying a damn romance novel, with a Sirius Piggyback cover photo...

Those are some darned suspicious coincidences...

Back when 7x10 New Best Friends aired, this caused quite a stir, and it remains to this day one of my favorite Bethyl hints to ever appear in TWDU. Read more about it in these excellent posts from season 7 (here and here).

Later, we see Carol prepare food for Daryl, while explaining why she had to leave. We see the romance novel, with the Sirius Piggyback cover photo, on her bookshelf, right next to a symbol we remember from 5x8 Coda:

My take on the title "Denim Dreams", is that, long story short, "denim" is a blue clue (in the sense that "blue jeans" is an established term). And as I explained in a recent post, "blue" is a synonym for "police". Beth and Rick are both encompassed by the "blue" symbolism, Rick because he's a police officer, Beth because she's "the new sheriff in town". The "pig" in "Sirius Piggyback" refers to the derogatory term for police, "pig", which has been used as symnonomous with "police" several times in TWDU. I wrote about the "pig" symbolism recently in this post, along with my take on the cat symbolism.

Speaking of cat symbolism, there was plenty of that to be found in 7x10 New Best Friends. Here's Rick, articulating what I tried to say in my cat symbolism post:

...to replace the one you lost...

...it's just that sometimes the one you lost can't easily be replaced...

But the cat symbolism is about rebirth, reunion and resurrection, and that's something to hold on to, according to an overwhelming number of characters in this episode...

...which is interesting, concidering a certain someone sang an entire Tom Waits classic on the subject of "holding on" back in season 3:

I know I keep saying that the symbolism we see is about "reunion". I'm not taking that out of thin air. Here's Daryl's commentary as we hear Beth's voice singing "Hold On" in the background:

Straight from the horses mouth there. What Daryl is referring to is the fact that he had just returned to, and reunited with, TF after initially having wandered off with his brother earlier in the season.

So, to circle back to the scene from 7x10, and its parallel, the scene from Carol's sneak peak; they're about reunions. Sure, it's obviously specifically about the imminent reunion between Carol and Daryl, both in 7x10 and in TWDDD seasson 2, which I'm personally looking forward to immensly.

But there are multiple layers to the reunion symbolism in TWDU, many of which speak directly to TD.

Because that damn romance novel, Carol's actual book from 7x10 New Best Friends, The Literal Book Of Carol, is a story about the Sirius Piggyback. And the comment on the damn romance novel from 4x1 was about Beth, that's a 100% undeniable fact:

Sirius means return, rebirth and resurrection. She will be back. Sirius Piggyback.

Perhaps in "The Book Of Carol; a Damn Romance Novel"...

#team delusional #bethyl #team defiance #daryl dixon #beth greene #beth x daryl #daryl x beth

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