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marvellous1917 · 10 months

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Icarus

(Part 1)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.

Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it

A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?

————

“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.

“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.

“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.

“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.

“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”

“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.

“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.

“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”

“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.

The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.

He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.

“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.

He moved his left had to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.

The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.

“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.

“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.

“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?

“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.

“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.

“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.

“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.

“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.

“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.

“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”

“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth

“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.

“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.

“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”

“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.

“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”

“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.

“Could you give him some more time?”

He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.

“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help your friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.

“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.

“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”

“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.

The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.

“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?

“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.

“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.

“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.

“Can I see it?”

“…sure,” the word came out as a question.

He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.

“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.

Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.

“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.

“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.

“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design

He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.

“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.

“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.

“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.

“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.

“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.

He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.

“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.

“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.

The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.

“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.

“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.

“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.

“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.

“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”

“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.

“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”

“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.

“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.

Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.

“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.

Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”

“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.

“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.

He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”

“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted

“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.

This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.

“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.

It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”

As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.

James:

Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.

It makes me feel ancient.

I hate that.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #mob!bucky #bucky barnes #mob!bucky fic #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #tattoo artist!reader

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dante-mightdie · 3 months

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simon is def the type of husband to build you your dream house with your kids instead of buying

all i can imagine is moving in and out of shitty apartments and small little houses to rent in between each kid, needing more space while your family grows. he sees you looking online one night, maybe scrolling through pinterest at these pretty kitchens and living rooms and he's like "you know what,fuck it" and the next night after dinner, he shows your some land for sale that the construction site he works for is selling, loving how your face lights up at the thought :')

you're so right

saves up for years before finally buying a nice but of land and immediately begins drawing up blueprints for the house. gets a few of the lads from the site to help him out when they owe him a favor

builds a big ass tree house and a swing hanging from the branch for the little ones to play on, maybe theres an old chicken coop that he fixes up and runs the idea of getting a couple of chickens

builds you a walk-in closet, and a vanity and a big huge mirror on the wall for when you're getting all prettied up :( huge bed for you both too. brings you by the house to show you updates whilst he's still building it and blows your back out on whatever new furniture he's built of whatever new room has been put up

tells you that you won't be able to do this once the kids get moved in, grunts in your ear that he'll just add more rooms so he can keep getting you pregnant

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #bluecollar!simon

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thehighladywrites · 20 days

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— “I’m just a girl!”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you tell azriel you don’t know what taxes are, and that you haven’t filed them ever

☀︎ — warnings: fluff, dramatic reader, azriel being sweet and educational

☀︎ — amara’s note: man i wish i was her rn💔 also this is so fucking real bc what on earth are taxes???

series masterlist

“Baby, please, you have got to grasp the gravity of this situation. Not filing your taxes is no joke. You could end up behind bars for tax evasion! There was a whole mandatory course last semester, didn’t you take it?” Azriel's tone is firm, his concern painted all over his face as he stands infront of you.

When you revealed that you didn't know what taxes were or how to "file" them, Azriel got worried sick, emphasizing the importance of understanding basic responsibilities like this.

He brought you into the living room, seated you on the sofa, and stood in front of you, carefully explaining step by step why not filing taxes was illegal and how to fix the situation. However, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on his words, your attention completely consumed by his built muscles. Your mind goes blank as you find yourself daydreaming about him taking off his shirt.

Azriel knows you’re not focusing on his words, he knows you’re ogling his body, and even though he gets warm and loves it, he needs you to focus on the topic, at least for a few minutes.

“Are you paying attention, baby?”

You honestly don’t get it at all. Like, if they take tax from you when you’re shopping, shouldn’t they already know how much you owe or whatever? And who even are the IRS? Can’t you just live your life without all this complicated stuff? Why does Azriel have to make everything so...ugh, what's the word? Complicated?

“Oh my god, Azzie! Stop it, I don’t wanna do this and I don’t understand anything. Please, I’m just a girl!” you exclaim dramatically pulling your knees to your chest as you hide your face in your hands, tears prickling in your eyes. You’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation and the sheer thought of dealing with stupid taxes.

Azriel sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. If he doesn’t have a gray hair by the end of the week, he’ll consider it a win. As much as he wants you to understand what is wrong with basically committing a crime, he doesn’t want you crying, he feels sick to his stomach seeing you so sad but he just has to fucking ask.

“You’re—You're just a girl— sweetheart, what does that even mean?” he asks gently, completely flabbergasted by your statement.

You fold your arms over your chest, chin held high as you say, “Ya heard me, m’just a girl. And that means i should not be doing any of this, i should be living my best life instead of thinking about whatever taxes are.”

Azriel just looks at you with raised eyebrows, man you’re stressing him the fuck out. Luckily he caught your illegal activities early otherwise you would have gone to prison for sure. Even though he thinks it was ridiculous for a person to have never done their taxes ever, he doesn’t hold you against it. He just slumps his shoulders, taking a breather. Azriel can never be mad at you, never at his sweet angel. Especially not when you look so upset, big sparkly eyes looking at him with worry.

It’s in that moment. That tiny moment, he decides to never confront you with your mistakes. Sure you almost went to jail, but Azriel is here now. He is intelligent enough to think about the more serious issues for the both of you. And he will for the rest of his life, not because he has to, but because he wants to. He wants to take care of you.

“You’re right, my love, you shouldn’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it,” Azriel assures you, his tone gentle as he tucks a strand behind your ear.

You look up at him, eyes shiny with unshed tears as your face lights up before you stand up and jump into his arms, showering his face with kisses, your excitement bubbling over.

“Awe, you're the best baby, I love you so, so, soooo much!” you exclaimed, your words flowing freely in your ditzy excitement.

He laughs shyly, still getting nervous when you show him affection. “I love you too, beautiful.”

🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwyniii @scoobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria

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frannyzooey · 3 months

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Short Days, Long Nights: 17

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Mature (mentions of child loss and grief, aka we go through Joel's past one more time as he says goodbye)

A/N: We are at the end ❤ I am insanely nervous since the whole story was built around this final chapter...I really hope you like it. I am going to make a separate post with all my thank you notes, but for now: @the-scandalorian I literally could not have done this without your guidance and reassurance and constant support. I owe you everything, and I love you. @mrsmando thank you for looking this over for me, for being such an amazingly emotional ride or die and for inspiring me since day one of this fic with your massive brain. I adore you. finally, @bageldaddy thank you for yelling at me in the doc when I needed it, and for your constant Joel advice. You make me better. ❤

Series Masterlist

“That’s it, honey. You’re doin’ so good.”

“Yea?” Straightening your back, you let your hips roll with the movement under you. The inside of your thighs burning with overuse, your voice is slightly breathless. “Like this?”

“It’s like you’re a natural,” he muses, giving you a wink.

“I don’t know about that.”

A trampled path guides the horse more than you do, a circle carved into the grass in front of the cabin and you let out a breath, feeling yourself relax for the first time since you first climbed on.

He didn’t believe you when you’d said you’d never been on a horse until you stood next to it, terrified. He had helped you up that day, climbing into the saddle behind you. When he noticed that you were paying more attention to the way his broad body encased yours from behind, he cut the lesson short with a teasing scold.

Only to continue it in the bedroom later that night.

He’s silent for a moment as he walks next to you, until June’s babble from the edge of the field calls out across the space.

“See?” he says. “She thinks so too.”

She starts to crawl towards the two of you, and Joel is quick to stride over, picking her up.

“I feel like I got the hang of it,” you say tentatively. “I’m not sure what to do if I have to take off on it though.” You look at him, the scenario only now occurring to you. “Hang on. What if I’m holding her and we have to run? How will I hang onto her and the horse? How –”

His hand comes to rest reassuringly on your thigh with a squeeze, stopping you.

“Don’ focus on that right now.” He shifts June in the crook of his elbow so that her outstretched hands can touch the horse. “Just focus on learnin’ the basics. When she’s down for her nap, I’ll get on with you and we can practice goin’ faster. Okay?”

He holds your gaze for a moment, sunlight catching the brown in his irises and curls. He raises his eyebrows in question, and you nod.

“Okay. Yea, okay.”

Giving the horse a pat on its neck, you let June brush her hands over its coat. Her tiny fingers dig in, pinching the animal in exploration.

“Easy, baby girl. Easy,” Joel murmurs. “You gotta be gentle. Like this.”

He takes her hand in his, petting the horse. Having no patience for the slow movement, she tugs her hand free to make a quick grab for the animal, and he chuckles, stepping back - only for her to erupt into a wail.

“Aw come on. Don’ gimme those crocodile tears, baby.”

Lifting her into the air, he holds her above his head and looks up at her scrunched face. His biceps strain the sleeves of his t-shirt, his curls fluttering in the breeze as he suspends her until her cries turn into whimpers, then giggles. Only then does he bring her down, kissing her on the cheek.

“I knew you were fakin’.”

–

The plan was to leave tomorrow, at first light.

Weathering weeks of up and down emotions, you’ve been constantly wavering between wanting to follow the others in hopes of finding somewhere safer for June and being terrified that you’re making the wrong decision. A silent war within yourself, always waging as you prepared.

When it was just you and Joel, there were times that you had been afraid. You had eventually made peace with the idea that something might happen to you, even though you would have fought with everything you had to prevent it. The fear you feel now, however, is on a whole other level. Something more base, coming from deep within you.

It’s so much harder with June. So much more left to lose, so much more at stake.

A bone-deep type of fear that took root in you the moment you realized you were pregnant, it only grew until it was something overwhelming. Something that choked you with nerves the day she came into this world. Something that reached down into the heart of you and grabbed hold of reserves you never knew you had. Something that turned you into another person entirely when you thought about anything happening to her - a very real possibility given the unknown you were willingly venturing into.

In comparison, Joel seemed…calm. Always the case when he had a clear direction and a purpose, you couldn’t tell if it was because he truly believed this was the right thing or just because he was so caught up in the planning of it all.

Plants harvested and then pulled up to save the root system, seeds meticulously dried and saved in scraps of paper, everything protected with as much safe keeping as you could provide it. Stores of food organized and packed in makeshift saddle bags, clothing and rags for diapers and two sleeping bags and medicine and first aid supplies and knives and anything else you could think of that might be useful, already accounted for and packed away.

All of it placed by the front door, waiting.

You run down the mental list one more time while rocking June, eventually placing her in the crib after cradling the soft, warm weight of her sleeping body for a moment.

“She go down okay?” Joel looks up from his place on the bed, the lantern glowing warm edges around the curve of his shoulders. The light splays across his skin, and he sets his book to the side.

“Yea, she was just a little fussy.” Yawning, you crawl into bed next to him. “I think she can feel something in the air. Our nerves or something.”

“Probably,” he agrees.

Sliding down under the quilt, you watch the shift of his muscles as he stretches to turn out the light. Joining you, he rolls on his side so you’re face to face.

Getting comfortable, you scoot closer. “So. Our last night.”

“Looks like it,” he replies, grasping your hand. He runs your knuckles over the seam of his lips, giving them a kiss.

“Are you nervous?”

He considers for a moment. “Yea. I know it’s time, but I can’t say I’m ready for what’s waiting out there.”

You nod.

Content silence rests between you, a cricket chirping right outside the window, the gentle current joining the rustle of leaves as they stir in the warm night air. Your fingers play idly with the sparse hair that covers his chest, and he watches you in the darkness.

“Are we doing the right thing?” you ask, your voice almost a whisper.

“It’s a little late for that, honey,” he teases, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone. When you don’t reply, his tone softens and he continues. “Hey now. We are. I know it.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure. I don’t know if anyone is with any decision they make, honey. ‘Specially not parents. You can only hope, ya know?”

You draw your lip between your teeth, and he gently plucks it out with his thumb. Guiding your face to his in the darkness, he runs his touch across your cheek, stroking the soft curve.

“Look at me.”

He’s right there, holding your gaze. Brown irises turned black in the dark room, holding you steady. There, like he’s always been.

“This is the right thing. I know just as well as you that there is plenty out there to be afraid of, but I got you. I got you both. I ain’t gonna let anything happen.”

A tear slips from the corner of your eye, dampening the pillow case. Your fears getting the best of you, words come pouring out.

“What if she crawls away while we are sleeping, or what if she gets sick? What if someone tracks us, and tries to take what we have?” You swallow hard, taking a deep breath. “If something happens to either of you, I –”

You can’t even bring yourself to finish the sentence, and he’s gathering you in his arms, pulling you close. The steady thump of his heartbeat underneath your cheek greets you, and you bury your face in the soft crook of his neck.

“I know we have to, but I don’t want to leave. This is our home.”

He softly shushes you. “We’ll make a new one. Together.”

Cradling your head in his hand, he lets you cry, his fingers stroking over the crown of your hair. Wrapped in his hold, you let it all pour out: not deep, shuddering cries of despair but rather the silent cries of mourning, of nerves strung too tight for weeks.

His hand slips down to rub between your shoulder blades and you close your eyes for a moment, trying to commit everything about this moment to memory: the mattress underneath you, the heat of his body, the husky rumble of his voice. The soft sheets and the worn blankets that have held the heat of your naked bodies countless times. His side of the bed that smells like him, his things on the nightstand, the feel of him in the middle of the night when it’s too dark to see. The scratch of his beard against your palm when you sling your arm over him in the night, just to find the bare patch along his jaw with your fingertips.

You think about everything that’s ever happened in this bed: his confession about Sarah, the intimacies you’ve shared with each other under the safe veil of darkness. Sounds that these walls have absorbed night after night: his low chuckles and his murmured praises and his endless, reassuring love.

When you’re done, Joel guides you back down into the mattress, using his hold on you to close the distance between your mouths. A gentle kiss for your lips, then your nose, then each one of your tear damp eyelids before finding your mouth again.

You shift up, giving him access to deepen it as his tongue slides against yours, your body arching into the familiar taste and path of his kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair, slip down the breadth of his back, and curl around the back of his arms.

Your thighs hug his hips, his head dipping to find more of your skin. Laving the edge of your jaw, he gives your throat an open mouthed kiss as his hand pushes your sleep shirt up. Up, up, exposing the bare skin over your sternum and when his lips find your nipple, he draws into his mouth with a reverential suck. He laves his tongue over and around it, playing with the stiff bud as he rocks his hips into yours and when his teeth gently scrape, a moan catches in the back of your throat.

The last time you’re ever going to feel him in this bed, you savor it.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groans softly when his fingers find your slick warmth.

“So do you,” you breathe, reaching down to guide his fingers inside you. They slip in with a slick, snug stretch, and he rests his forehead along the plane of your chest, watching your hand move with his. Crooking his touch to reach a spot that makes you keen, he rubs against it and you muffle your sounds against the firm round of his shoulder.

Quiet. You have to be quiet.

“Fuck me,” you plead against his skin, and he works his fingers faster, pulling back to watch your face.

“I wanna make you come like this first. Gonna be awhile before I can take my time with you again.”

You say nothing, the air seizing in your lungs as you arch into the tight, syrupy warmth he’s building inside you. Clenching around his fingers, you’re tipped over the edge by the heft of his stiff cock rocking against your thigh.

“There’s my girl,” he praises.

His words wash over your heated skin, his eyes flashing in the dark. Slipping his fingers from you to drag damp over your skin, he pushes your legs open to make room for himself.

–

Leaving you sated and asleep, he slips from bed as quietly as he can, stepping out into the inky night. Tugging a sweatshirt over his head, his feet are bare, the hem of his pajama pants skimming the grass as he walks down to the shore.

A simple handmade cross made from the leftover wood from June’s cradle is gripped in his hand.

He kneels and taking his time, begins to delicately smooth out a patch of sandy earth. His fingers pluck away wayward strands of grass and toss out tiny pebbles until it’s cleared. A stack of stones he’s been gathering for the last few weeks rests in a pile nearby, waiting.

Satisfied, he rests back on his heels.

“Hey, baby girl.”

Silence greets him, and content with that response, he continues.

“We’re leavin’ tomorrow.”

Reaching for the biggest stone, he turns and sets it just at the edge of the lapping water. He then balances the next one on top, slightly smaller than the one underneath it.

“I’m not sure when we’ll be back, if we’ll ever be. But I’m gonna mark a spot for you just in case. My favorite spot.”

He adjusts a third stone on top of the others, his hand lingering to make sure it stays put.

“I never got to –” he starts, steadying himself. “I never had a spot for you. Just kept you in my head, and in my heart.” He holds the fourth stone in his hand, looking at it. “I always wanted a place to visit you. A place to come to when I missed you, a place to talk to you.”

He sniffles, using his knuckle to wipe at a tear that slips free and then places the stone on top of the others.

“Now I know that you’re always listenin’.”

The water washes over the base of the stones, the ripples sparkling in the moonlight and he finishes the cairn in silence, listening to the sounds around him. When he’s done, he looks up, and stares at the expanse of stars above him.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. His voice wavers, and he swallows hard. “For everything. I know you know this, but I’ll – I’m always thinkin’ about you. I’ll always be here when you need me, okay? I will never stop bein’ your dad.”

A few more tears roll down his face, and he lets them go. The corner of his mouth eventually lifting, he clears his throat.

“Maybe you could watch over your sister for me, make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble on this trip? Sometimes she gets this smile on her face and it’s just like the one you used to get.” A low chuckle slips free, and he hangs his head with a shake. “It's like I know she’s about to do somethin’ that she ain’t supposed to do, and all…''

The rueful smile on his face softens, his voice lowering with a rasp.

“All I see is you.”

More tears come, silent paths gliding down his face and he sits alone with his thoughts then, on the edge of the river.

That night comes back to him: the sheer terror he felt, the despair, the helplessness. The rage that filled him when he woke to find out that her body had been left behind, twisted and broken and all alone in the dirt somewhere. Like no one even cared to bury her, even if he knew that wasn’t the case.

The blur of black days that followed her death, when he longed to join her.

The weight of the gun in his grip, the thud it made when he whipped it at the wall with a scream when he missed.

All the years after, trying to lock the memory of her away. The shadow of a person he became, all the things he did without an ounce of regret.

A man with nothing to lose, because he’d already lost it all.

When his tears dry, he looks up at the sky again and finally, he remembers a different memory.

A warm night sky just like this one, the slippery cushion of a sleeping bag under his back and a petite, squirmy body stretched out next to him.

“What’s that one, dad?” A swirl of stars above them, her small finger points at the brightest one.

She sits up, the silhouette of her unruly curls calling to him and he brushes his hand through the soft texture of it, making up a name.

“Dad! Stop it,” she laughs. “For real. What is it?”

He makes up another one, and the girlish peal of her laugh echoes in the dark; the kitchen light from the house glowing behind them.

Still feeling her curls against his palm, he takes the cross in his hand, and pushes the bottom of it into the dirt. Standing with a soft grunt, he brushes the sand from his knees and looks at it for a moment.

A tiny thing, shadowed by the protection of a tree.

Protected and safe, finally.

“I love you, baby girl.”

With one last look at the cross, he makes his way slowly back up to the cabin.

–

With June secured to your front, you walk around the inside of the cabin one last time.

Domestic warmth infused in every room, items you have to leave behind paint a picture of the people that lived here: the westerns he read in his early days of avoiding his want for you stacked next to his side of the bed. The flowered quilt that you tucked yourself under on rainy days spread over the mattress. The bathroom, with its neatly folded yet mismatched hand towels draped over the bar next to the sink.

The living room, with the dust that once coated everything gone, and the kitchen, with a neat row of washed pots lined up next to the dish rack that holds a mug used this morning.

The clean windows that would let in the bright sun, save for the tarp along the back that has been secured in place.

Even the strangers that line the hallway live in cleaned frames, and walking past them, you wander into June’s bedroom to take one last look at her cradle. Impossible to bring with you, it hurts the most to leave behind. You’re still looking at it when Joel comes in from outside, calling your name.

“In here,” you call back, and he comes to stand behind you, curling his hands around your hips. You lean back into him, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, reading your mind.

“I’ll make her a new one, honey. I promise.”

You turn and give him a watery smile, and he presses his lips to your forehead.

“A big girl bed this time, I think,” he coos down at June, and she reaches for him, fussing when he doesn’t pick her up.

Cradling her squirming body, you follow Joel outside.

Next to the porch, the horse shifts under the weight of the saddle bags, stomping her feet and you watch as Joel soothes her, sliding his hand down over her coat. Ropes securing everything, she is weighted with your belongings and with the plan to walk beside her as much as possible, you start to untie her reins while he closes the front door.

The original tarp that covered it is dragged back into place, and when everything is as it was on that first day you found it, he gives it one last look.

Coming to join you with his rifle slung over his shoulder, he takes the reins.

“You ready?”

At the sound of his voice, June looks at him and smiles, a tiny dimple piercing her chubby cheek. He returns it, reaching out to grasp her foot with a wiggle.

“Are you?” you ask. Your brow knit with gentle concern, you nudge your chin towards the water.

“Your spot is beautiful, by the way,” you say softly. “June and I said goodbye this morning. It’s perfect for her.”

He says nothing, gratitude spilling from the depths of his eyes. Looking at you for a long time, he then leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“I guess time heals all wounds,” you muse, thinking of the man you came here with and he pulls back.

Looking down at you both, his expression turns into a sort of solemn earnestness.

“It wasn’t time that did it.”

Your fingers locked in June’s fist, she pulls them into her mouth for a nibble and his hand reaches up to stroke the curve of her cheek, and then your own before leaning in for a kiss.

Walking away from the cabin, you look back when you reach the far edge of the original path that brought you here: the only visible indication of the structure a slice of muted, dingy blue in a sea of lush green. Leaves crunch underfoot as you walk beside him, the slope of his broad shoulders a map that you’ve always followed without question. With another couple steps, the cabin disappears from view.

Looking forward, you lace your fingers with his and walk.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction

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bratfiction · 4 months

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18+ CONTENT — MDNI. warnings -> taboo content [stepcest], age gap, spoiled!reader, noncon [somno], use of daddy. please read at your own risk.

step-daddy simon… mind you, you’ve really only known him for a few years. maybe five; who’s counting?

you were on your way out the door, heading to college and starting your life as a young adult, by the time he entered the picture. by the time your mom decided to find someone and remarry. the rugged, tattooed and quite frankly terrifyingly built man known as simon— your stepfather, or whatever.

it took you awhile to wrap your head around it. thankfully you weren’t in the house enough to truly care. you were attending sweaty house parties and making microwave meals in your luxury dorm while the two of them had screaming matches in the otherwise empty dining room.

until you come back for the holidays.

there’s tinsel and garland on every inch of the house. the scent of cinnamon and spiced apples is in the air, your nose scrunches up— all this to cover up the misery that hangs around in the balance. the rainbow lights on the artificial tree that’s smack dab in the living room are borderline blinding. this is home for the next few weeks, but not your home.

you’re not comfortable here. you cant help but notice the overwhelmingly fond gaze on you, warm irises pooling with something that you’re too frightened to call love.

“i hope y’haven’t been getting into too much trouble on campus,” his voice is deep. gravelly. makes you finally look up from the book in your lap.

and you promise you haven’t. he’s paying for that nice apartment you’re living in, after all. you suppose you owe him something. whether it’s your best behavior, or not making a single peep when he sneaks into your room at night. large, rough hands groping your form beneath your soft blankets, squeezing your waist with intent to cause you to stir and wake you up.

“simon,” you whisper into the dark, warm room. only to be promptly shushed with a gentle but messy kiss, pressed to the side of your face to pacify you.

“sh— it’s only your daddy, baby.”

except he’s not your daddy. and he never will be. you haven’t seen your old man in god knows how long. and if he thinks coddling you and stuffing you full of his heavy dick is gonna fix that, he’s wrong. but fuck… it may come close. your eyes roll back before he even eases the first inch into you. you tremble when he yanks your soft panties down the curve of your ass, the material of his boxers rubs against your cheeks before the fat tip of his cock glides through your glossy folds.

you lay your head back down against your pillow in a delicate form of defeat, sighing through your nose— daddy. sure, he can be your daddy. maybe it’ll make your weeks in this house more tolerable, considering you’re already hooked on the feeling of his rough hands caressing your plialble skin. let alone the way his cock stretches your pretty cunt more than any fuck you’ve had in the past year.

you can get used to being a daddy’s girl…

#⌨️.kit's writing #🤍.cod #not putting this in tags :p #don’t wanna hear it #tw stepcest #tw noncon #tw somno

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cranberryjuice-posts · 1 month

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-be still my foolish heart-

Pairings - Abby Anderson x fem! Teacher! Reader

Synopsis - rejoining the firefly’s has given Abby a chance to finally find love. Once she has she has no idea what to do with it.

An - HOZIER HOW I LOVE UR MUSIC

Cw - fluff to smut

Starting over wasnt easy. Anyone could testify to that.

Abby let out a deep sigh running a hand down her face. For the past year Abby had been readjusting to life, a former life she had long forgotten. Lev was helpful Sure but she didn’t know what to do with herself.

After becoming a firefly she had finally built up enough courage to admit that she herself was really only interested in Women.

But what made matters worse was you. Ever since that day in the infirmary where you helped Abby and lev recover You’ve just plagued the poor girls mind.

Washing her face Abby headed down stairs. Turning around the corner she almost fell, standing in the kitchen was you. Laughing with lev, coffee mug in and hand wearing Abby’s shirt— ONLY Abby’s shirt.

Looking over your shoulder you smiled at the blonde “morning, I made tea? Want some”

“Sure..” she mumbled walking towards the other side of the counter, where lev stood. You happily turned walking to the stove to pour Abby a glass.

With your back turned, abby grabbed levs hand dragging him into another room. “Why the hell is she here?!” She whispered yelled.

“She came by last night drunk, threw up on herself so I offered her one of your shirts I didn’t think it’d be a problem” he just shrugged his shoulders not really caring.

Abby however did. “Lev im going to beat your ass”

“It’s not That big of a Deal” lev continued on his stance, just as Abby was going to respond you called for her.

“Abby!” Turning around you saw Abby back at the kitchen counter, waiting like a puppy for your next command. “Here, Two spoons of sugar and a little cream. Just like how you like it” you smiled passing the mug over.

Abby just took the cup to her mouth not saying a word, secretly she preferred her tea without any additives that but she would never tell you. “I have a favor to ask” you tilted your head some to the side.

Abby perked up looking at you once more. “Yeah?”

“So, I know you use to be apart of some group before you came here and the teenagers that I teach are starting to want to get more responsibilities and with that they need to learn to fight. I was wondering if tomorrow you would come by and help me teach my lesson on the outside and how to fight the infected”

Abby kept quiet for a few moment. Mostly in awe that you wanted to ask her out of everyone else to help teach a class. Before she could respond lev did it for her. “She’ll be there” he spoke in his usual monotone voice while taking an apple off the table, leaving the room in the process.

Your shook your head finding lev to just be entertaining. “I got confrimation from your little assistant but I need a yes from you to”

“Yeah, I’ll do it sorry I just got lost in thoight” she tried to play her embarrassment off.

“Thankyou, your doing me a huge favor” you squeezed her arms gently. “I owe you one” you continued to Hold eye contact with her. Jesus fucking Christ Abby was down bad for you. She simply nodded watching as you to left most likely to get a change of clothes.

Now standing alone in the kitchen Abby looked down at her light tea and mentally debated on how to make a good impression tomorrow.

————

Nervously Abby stood in-front of the school house. Letting out a deep sigh she walked in, seeing your back facing her she took in your appearance.

Your natural hair pulled back with a bow, paired with a pair of bellbottoms that showed off your ass and a button down. Turning around finally you waved at Abby.

Making your way over to her you hugged her sweetly. “Thank you again, really I couldn’t do this without you”

“Don’t worry about it” she gave you a half smile back, admiring your body one final time she let you drag her towards the center of the class room.

Soon the class started to fill up, more and more kids coming in until all 15 of them were seated. “Good morning everyone” You smiled causing them to say it back.

“Today we have a Special guess Ms. Anderson, now I know you all want to go out and fight Infected and help keep us all safe so I had her come in today to help teach you all how to properly take care of not only your community but also the infected outside”

The way you held yourself and instructed your class honestly made Abby’s heart soar. Just how confident yet humble you were honestly made you more attractive in her eyes. Once you finished your speech you turned to Abby, allowing her to have the floor.

She awkwardly shifted in her spot not sure how to start. “Um.. hey, so like Ms.LN said uh I’m here to help I guess teach you all about infected.”

Once her sentence ended the entire class erupted into chaos questions with a new one shouted after the other. Stepping in and calming them down a kid named Liam raised his hand. “Is it true you almost killed a pregnant woman?”

“I uh” Abby stumbled on her words. “I highly doubt that has to do with killing infected”

“Liam, this is your last warning one more time and I’m having a talk with your mother” your threat only made the boy cower and Abby become flustered.

Calming her nerves she sighed, the important thing right now was to at least impress you. “I’ve killed people. I’ve killed infected and I’ve hurt alot of people.. a lot of them—

— and I think that’s it, unless you all have questions” Abby finally asked after her lecture. A few kids raised their hands asking important questions. The spotlight ended though once the bell rang.

“All-right everyone thats it, get out Go to lunch” You playfully yelled, saying goodbye to your students giving each their own smile. As the last one left you sat down on your desk, leaning on to Abby who still stood beside it. “They all like You”

“You think” she asked trying to ignore the growing blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah.. I know it” You mumbled taking her hand into yours. Kissing the back of her hand softly you rubbed her knuckles. “You’re coming to the party tonight right?”

Abby looked down at you embarrassed. “I mean I can, I know lev wants to go because he has this crush on a girl but I really wasn’t planing on going”

You kept quiet for a moment still holding her hand. “Well then if you’re not going, could I come by tonight and keep you company?” You sweetly asked.

If her face could of gotten redder it would of. “Yes!” She spoke a little to quickly causing you to laugh. “I’ll see you tonight Abby” you smiled looking up at her with a sense of admiration.

She nodded, awkwardly leaving the school house making you giggle.

————

You sat outside rocking gently on the swinging bench on Abby’s porch. The light from the party happening at the tavern light up the neighborhood.

“You like marshmallows right” Abby asked as she joined you on the bench, passing the cup of hot coco. You smiled taking the cup, taking a sip you let the sweet drink pass through your body.

Letting out a sigh of satisfaction you faced the blonde again. You took the quilt off your body passing it over Abby’s as well, wanting to share the body heat.

“So” you started, turning to face Abby. “You’ve been here for a year now, your hair has grown out into a cute bob and you’ve put half the men here to shame with your muscles.. so I have to ask Ms. Anderson, do You like someone?”

Abby sub consciously reached to her hair that rested just bellow her chin, she normally kept it in a bun though tonight a few strands weren’t wanting to cooperate. She cleared her throat not sure how to respond. “I guess so” she managed out. “I mean I do like this girl but I doubt she’d like be back”

“And Why’s That” You asked leaning into her. “And it’s a girl? Is this you coming out to me Abby” you softly teased.

“Shut up” she chuckled. “Yes it’s a woman and yes I guess technically this is me telling you I like women, more then men at least”

“And Why do You think she doesn’t like you?” You set your cup on the table in front of you before laying your head on your arms on the back of the bench.

Abby just sighed. “Well for starters shes Just beautiful, I mean really she’s just… wow— you know” she smiled sweetly at her mug.

“Yeah?” You playfully flirted.

“Oh yeah, I mean she’s just astonishing, and the nicest woman I’ve ever met. She holds herself with such confidence and grace that honestly she was probably royalty in another life” Abby continued with a foolish smile that was eventually replaced with a more remorseful look. “But I did some not so ok stuff in my past, and if she found out I don’t think she could ever look at me the same”

“Like What?” You asked not thinking that it could be any worse than anyone else. “We’ve all killed people abs, whatever you did it couldn’t of been that bad”

Abby hesitated, to tell you meant telling you all the bad shit she’s done. Closing her eyes she let out a deep breath before speaking.

“I beat a man to death with a golf club because he killed my dad and took away the only man who could of made a cure for the infection then his brother and some girl came after me, killed all my friends. I slept with my friends boyfriend, I shot the brother of the man I killed and beat the girl almost to death, I almost killed her pregnant girlfriend and shot this guy who was with them then I left the group I was with at the time and ran away with lev”

The silence was over whelming. She squeezed her cup in shame regretting even opening her mouth. The silence was replaced however with laughter. Finally looking up Abby looked over seeing how you laughed like nothing happened.

You continued to silently giggle before leaning your head back, looking over at Abby you gave her a dumb smile. “Really? That’s it?”

She just looked at you confused. How could you be so laid back after she told you something so traumatic. “Abby why would I ever care about you killing someone? So what you killed a man that killed your dad, sounds fair. You also got vengeance for your friends, again sounds fair; though the sleeping with your friends boyfriend I’m not sure about that”

Abby felt her face turn red. Looking back down embarrassing she fumbled her words trying to explain. “Look it wasn’t like that, we dated when we were kids and it ended messily. We got into an argument and were just mad at each-other and the only way to express our feelings was through actions, I regretted it and it was honestly shit I hated it the entire time”

“Well as Long as you regret it then I guess there isn’t a problem” you chuckled, leaning over you tucked a stray strand of Abby’s hair behind her ear.

Subconsciously Abby felt herself leaning into you, she held her breath- not wanting the moment to end. You followed her lead tilting your head into hers.

After a short second you smiled “just kiss me already” the was the last thing spoken before Abby crashed herself into you.

Her hands instantly finding themselves on your hips and in your hair, wanting to ground herself in anyway she could. A years worth of sexual and romantic tension building up being poured out all into one kiss.

In response you picked your body up, leaning into Abby you pressed yourself against her, slowly making your way into her lap. With your knee between Abby’s legs and the once heavy quilt now falling off you both you pulled away. Breathing heavily with your lips still close you muttered against her skin “wanna take this inside?”

She quickly agreed following your lead inside, leaving everything else behind the only thing that mattered was having you both against each other. With the door shut you locked your hands into Abby’s hair, kissing her once again.

While the messy kiss continued the stronger woman helped lift you off the ground causing you to wrap your legs around her waist. With her hands on your Ass abby carried you upstairs and to her room.

Once there she gently tossed you on the bed. With how much she’s had to hear about your hookup story’s and how you wish they’d man handle you more often she had a fake sense of confidence going through her body.

You threw your shirt aside, quickly making due with the bra. The confidence broke once Abby realized this was her first time with a woman. Her first time really ever since Owen. Wanting to curl up in embarrassment Abby looked away from your breast.

You laughed noticing her shyness and the distant look of doom. “Don’t worry.. it’s not as difficult as you think” pulling her down by her shirt you gave Abby a gentle, reassuring kiss. “We’ll take it slow”

Abby just nodded, shaking the feeling away she slowly stripped off her shirt, trying to hold the intimate eye contact.

Both taking turns, each stripping out of their clothes until you both were naked all while holding eye contact. You ran a hand up Abby’s chest, giving her sensitive breast a gentle squeeze she moaned, deep and raspy.

“You make me feel good baby and I’ll make you feel like nothing else exist” you mumbled while kissing Abbys neck. She moaned in response, laying on the bed she started to kiss and grab down your body. Every piece of skin that she could touch she loved. From your collarbones, nipples and to your stomach she sweetly kissed.

You took a hand, lacing it into Abby’s now messed up hair. Once she reached between your thighs she was already on her knees admiring what laid between.

“God” she groaned tucking her face into your plush thigh. Kissing it softly she slowly made her way towards your soaking cunt. Your stomach tensed, the teasing feeling of her lips dragging across your skin only riling you up more.

Moving her head towards your core by her hair you let out a small whine. “Please”

You opened your eyes to look down at her, she hadn’t even touched you yet but she was already so pussy drunk. You loosened your grip on her hair as she finally brought herself to you.

She gave a kitten lick on your swollen clit, slightly insecure of her skills before actually placing herself onto your sensitive skin.

Slowly sucking on the bud Abby kept the eyecontact with you, feeling herself getting off with the faces and noises you made. Without realizing it she slid two fingers into you.

“Oh fuck, Just like That Abby” Your stomach tensing up as your chest followed your rapid breaths. You clamped your thighs around Abby’s head not sure how much more you could take. Moaning her name you started to grind your hips on her face. The smell of sex quickly over taking your senses.

With your eyes shutting and your back arcing pushing your cunt onto Abby’s tongue, chasing your high; your legs started to shake as your orgasm crashed over your body.

Relaxing and allowing Abby to pull away from you, you looked down at her with a slight chuckle. Her face red and her pupil’s dilated. “You look beautiful” You smiled tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re one to talk” she grinned in response, kissing you, the taste of yourself in her tongue taking over. You sat up moving back towards the bed frame before laying down again.

“Here” you gestured to your lips. Both still breathless, Abby looked at you confused until it hit her what you were signaling.

It was cute how nervous she was. Straddling your body she bent down giving you a kiss. You let out a muttered moan wrapping your arms around her. While you gently rubbed Abby’s body you helped move her up towards your lips.

Letting her grab the headboard you forced her hips down. Abby was sweet, sweeter than you expected. Her small whines and grunts made you feel like you were going insane. She was just perfect.

You ran your tongue in rhymathic circles, squeezing Abby’s thighs wanting to bring her closer if it was even possible. Her moans. Her taste. Her skin. Everything about her was perfect.

You could tell she was close, from how she gripped the board to her scrunched up face. Her moans becoming louder up until the point she held her head back.

Abby was inexperienced it was obvious from her body language, her finishing faster than you would of thought was kind of expected.

Trying to help brace her body while she came down from her orgasm you helped Move her beside you, you both just looked at one another not wanting the moment to end.

Giving her a subtle kiss on the cheek you sat up, letting out a deep breath you smiled down at Abby who was softly rubbing your arm. You could of gone for a few more rounds but Abby really just wanted to lay down. Maybe another time

After making a shower for you both and getting a drink you laid on Abby’s chest, enjoying how her stronger arms made you feel secure. Softly kissing her neck you smiled against her skin. “I love you Anderson”

Though you weren’t looking at her you could tell her face was red. “Yeah— I uh i love you to” she managed back, her arm growing tighter around you.

#lesbian #wlw #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #tlou fluff #tlou smut #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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spdrvyn · 10 months

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full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #gender neutral reader #gn reader #reader insert #x reader #fluff #romance #cute #domestic

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nakachuchu · 9 months

Text

Protector | Gojo Satoru

SYNOPSIS: Your life was far more important than Gojo Satoru’s life, but no one understood why.

READER: female

WORDS: 1.9k

WRITTEN: 07/24/2023

NOTE: I never read gojo's arc bc I hate flashbacks so things aren't the same. I cranked this out on a whim.

EVENT: part of the Sly Fox Collab

Before the Satoru bloodline, there was the L/N bloodline. The very blood throbbing within the layers of your skin and flesh stood above all other bloodlines.

Despite not being as gifted as Gojo Satoru, you were still above him. Your very existence — your very breath — meant that the Jujutsu world was still standing.

If the beacon of light was struck down, there would be no saving others.

Your clan built the Jujutsu world and it was your great ancestor who closed off a portal that allowed demons — not only Curses — to roam free in Japan, destroying everything in their paths.

Gojo Satoru was your bodyguard — your protector since birth. Despite being born before him, he was still the person who was supposed to put your life above his.

However, as the first to hold both the Six Eyes and Limitless, he was an anomaly all on his own. His clan didn't like the idea of him having to sacrifice himself to protect you, should the time come for it.

So, his parents taught him one thing when it came to you: "Her life means nothing compared to yours."

Wherever you went, Gojo was supposed to go.

Gojo Satoru hated you. He despised your very existence. You were the reason he was on a tighter leash. He was already being watched since birth, but now he was being watched more heavily and had to watch out for others.

Gojo attending the Tokyo Jujutsu Tech School was only for him to learn responsibility and how to hone his abilities.

It was a struggle to allow him to attend, but a simple "Yes" from you allowed him to attend. You were his master and he was your dog.

Because of your approval for him to attend, you attended as well. There was no better protector than Gojo, so you had to stick with him.

Your clan didn't want you to leave the confines of their estate, but they had no choice.

You were the one who held the seed of life within your very soul. Your death would unleash unimaginable death into the world, causing destruction to the very earth itself.

Only high members of your clan could know the true power you held. You may not have been as strong on the outside as Gojo Satoru or Geto Suguru, but you held your own power.

Despite Gojo being your bodyguard, you were the one who followed him everywhere. You never spoke to anyone unless spoken to, and so you became his shadow.

He had no shame in voicing his opinions on the annoying shadow trailing after him day after day, but you had never reprimanded him or told anyone how he treated you.

It made no difference to you. As long as he kept you alive, you didn't care. Your clan members only listened to you because of the power of life you held.

You knew that if you were just another woman, they wouldn't listen to you.

You currently sat on a table, swinging your feet back and forth as you watched Gojo and his classmates bicker.

You envied him. You wanted to have friends as well. You wanted to go out after school to grab ice cream and gossip about crushes.

You let out a soft sigh and fell back onto the table, laying on it peacefully as you looked up at the blue sky.

"Are you alive?" Gojo questioned.

You turned slightly to look at him.

"Oh," he said, disappointed. "Good, I guess."

You turned to look back at the sky.

He stared at you for a moment before shrugging and going back to his friends.

The school day continued until it was time for Gojo to drop you off at home. He lingered around campus as usual, enjoying the idea of you having to wait on him because you couldn't walk home alone.

He was feeling quite smug about it — he felt smug every day — until a random dog entered the school grounds and bit him in the ass.

"OW WHAT THE FUCK — "

Geto and Ieiri burst out laughing, unable to contain their laughter. However, you were also unable to contain your laughter. You let out a snort before covering your mouth with your fist and clearing your throat.

Almost immediately, Gojo rounded on you after swatting the dog away.

"Did you just laugh?"

"No."

"You did. You just laughed at me."

"Not at you. At the situation," you responded.

He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Come on."

He grabbed your sleeve and dragged you away, pulling you like an owner would pull their dog.

Gojo had never seen you laugh before. Who knew it would take his pain for you to laugh?

Since that day, he was always trying to make you laugh. He wanted to see what kind of person you really were. He wanted to know if deep inside you were just like him.

You were put in an unimaginable position, just like him. What were you thinking on the inside? Did you really like the life you were born into? Did you wish you were human instead? Ignorant of the Curses and death around you?

Geto and Ieiri exchanged glances at the scene in front of them: you and Gojo were laughing together.

A month shortly after the dog incident, you and Gojo had been more open around each other. He was more comfortable with your presence and didn't think of you as his shadow much.

You were more like an extension of him, always going places together. He even started walking you home right after his classes so that you would have enough time to stop by a place to eat sweets.

Today, the four of you would be going to a cafe together for the first time. It was your first real-time spending time with Gojo's friends. You usually left him alone when he was at school since you didn't want to bother him.

His life was much more difficult because of you and you felt responsible for the heavy chains wrapped around his neck.

You and Gojo walked side by side while Geto and Ieiri walked side by side in the front. The two would casually turn around to talk to you when the chance arose.

The atmosphere was fun and relaxing. It was your first time having a small group to spend time with, but of course, the happiness wouldn't last.

Before Gojo could even comprehend what had happened, your body was already on the floor and a warm splatter had formed on his cheek.

He didn't even notice Geto shaking his shoulders or Ieiri shaking while holding your body in her arms.

The bullet went straight into your head.

"Where?" he whispered. "WHERE?" he shouted, pushing Geto off him and frantically looking around for the culprit.

Gojo ran off to look for your murderer, leaving Geto and Ieiri alone with you.

But, that was exactly what the group of culprits wanted. They were silent and invisible until the very end.

One masked man pulled Ieiri off you, while the other dragged your body toward him. Before Geto could attempt to do anything, a skilled assassin appeared before him.

Geto was forced to fight for his own life while watching the culprits get ready to take your body.

"Let me go!" Ieiri shouted as she kicked around with one of the culprits.

"GOJO!" Geto screamed, knowing his friend would hear him.

Gojo appeared a few feet away, cursing his inaccuracy under the stressful situation. He frantically looked between his two friends struggling and your limp body being thrown over an assassin's shoulder.

Before he could even take a step, your body jerked and the screams of the assassin you were draped over alerted the other culprits.

Your supposedly dead body had taken a chunk out of the assassin's neck. Your hands dug into his body, clawing at him through his clothes as you spat out the chunk of flesh.

The assassin dropped you onto the floor and he scrambled away from you in fright, holding his hand against his neck.

You dropped to the floor on your hands and knees. Your bones cracked as you slammed a hand onto the concrete.

You turned abruptly to look — blood in your eyes — at the assassins who were fighting Ieiri and Geto.

The three teenagers were frozen in fear. You looked rabid — like a zombie covered in blood.

You slammed your other hand down onto the concrete. Cracks formed in the concrete, shaking the earth as the assassins attempted to scramble away from it.

Despite having a bounty on your head, no one knew the true reason why you were so important. They just knew you were important enough to have Gojo Satoru protect you.

A large monstrous hand shot out from one crack, while shadow-like tentacles shot out from the other one. The assassins screamed in agony as they were pulled under by the demons.

The "seed of life" within you was the ability to control those in the underworld. That was why you were so important.

Your very existence was the barrier between the underworld and the real world.

With the assassins gone, the cracks closed and repaired themselves. It looked as if nothing had happened, except for the blood that stained you and Ieiri's clothes.

You slowly got up to your feet and wiped your face with the sleeve of your jacket. The bullet lodged in your head pushed itself out and the hole repaired itself.

The three teenagers were silent.

"I died once before," you said quietly.

A tear rolled down your cheek.

"I got hit by a car when I was seven. I was walking home from school. And when I died, I saw things. I went to where those things were and I was in so much pain. Everything hurt. Everywhere hurt."

The more you continued to talk, the more it turned into sobs. You couldn't control your tears. You tried to stop them by rubbing your eyes raw, but your sobs turned into cries as if a child was crying.

"And I — I came back an hour later in the arms of my mother. I couldn't stop shaking and screaming. I tried to kill everyone who got near me. I — I didn't know who — who I was or where — where I was — "

Gojo walked the distance between you two and hugged you, smothering your head in his chest.

You wailed like a baby, clutching his school uniform into your fists. You refused to let him go and he wouldn't dare to let you go.

"Go ahead," he said to his friends. "I'll see you later."

Ieiri and Geto glanced at each other and nodded before walking home together. Geto wrapped an arm around her shoulders in comfort.

"I — I don't know if I can die," you said, muffled. "But each time I do, it hurts so much. It scares me. I hate it. I hate what I see. I'm damned to eternal hell."

His hand cupped the back of your head, large and warm.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Apologies were hard for Gojo. He hated showing vulnerability and sincerity, but he couldn't imagine what you had been through.

"I should have been more careful," he said. "I'll take better care of you now."

Gojo Satoru now understood why you had to be protected. His parents were wrong. His life wasn't above yours. You were far more important than him, but they would never understand that.

He would protect you until the day he died.

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #slyfoxcollab #slyfox collab

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thefreakandthehair · 6 months

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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 27th: Haunted House | Hunters Moon - Ghost | Funny read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

Haunted houses are supposed to be scary– fog, strobe lights, creepy crawlies and otherworldly creatures. Eddie’s prepared for all of that when he takes the job at the local haunt during his favorite time of year– it’s in the name, after all.

What he’s not prepared for is Steve Goddamn Harrington to show up with a gaggle of pre-teens nipping at his heels like baby ducks demanding attention.

“– don’t need your bat, it’s fine! It’s fake, Steve, c’mon.” He hears one particularly loud mop-headed kid arguing from behind his perch.

Faux blood drips from the gash built up on his forehead down his nose and he smears it across his cheek, both for effect and because as much as he loves the hideous clown role, the viscous corn syrup trickling down his face makes his skin crawl.

Wait, he thinks, furrowing his eyebrows as best he can beneath the special effects makeup. Did that kid just insinuate Steve Harrington wanted to bring a bat into a haunted house?

“Yeah Steve, are you scared of spooky clowns now?” Another of his group sneers, this one a bit taller, skinny with darker hair. “Gonna show off and clobber some poor innocent actor like you did that demo–”

Steve hisses loud enough still for Eddie to hear him and grabs the kid by the shoulder. “Say it a little louder, why dontcha, Mike? Jesus Christ.”

“Well, are you?” A redheaded girl asks as they get closer and closer to the entrance.

“After everything real we’ve seen, you think I’m afraid of what I know is fake?” Eddie can make out the shape of Steve standing with one hand on his hip and his finger pointing around at each of the kisd. “This was you little shits’ idea, remember that.”

Eddie’s grateful he’s toward the beginning of the haunt. He gets to set the tone for the rest of the show, and when someone particularly interesting piques his interest, sometimes he follows them around. Breathes down their neck a little, stands just a little too close without blinking, tilts his head with a ghastly smile when they turn around.

Before they’ve even entered the house, Eddie’s decided to have a little fun with Steve Harrington.

The fog machine kicks off, curling up from the floor around their ankles, spiraling like snakes up to the ceiling. Eddie grins and prepares himself for scare number one.

The jumpscare.

“Ow, you’re on my foot, asshole!” One of the kid whispers.

“Then don’t stand so close!” Another responds.

“We’re literally in a fucking hallway–”

“Guys, language! And while you’re at it, shut the fuck up and pay attention!”

When they’re in classes together, Eddie has to choke back the amused grin that plays at his lips when Steve shows off his bite but nothing is real in a haunted house anyways.

He lets himself smile.

At least, until the sound machine groans to life. He waits for them to look around, to seek control, to figure out what the noise is and how to defend against it.

“Welcome!” He screams with a cackling laugh, leaping out from his hiding spot and landing in a crouching position. “I hope you like it here, because you’re,” he circles around them with bent legs before leaning closer and shouting, “never leaving!”

All of the kids scream simultaneously, devolving into nervous laughter. Steve though? Eddie watches Steve seize up and instinctually yank the kids closer to him.

It’s not what he expects from the King of Hawkins High, dethroned or otherwise. Eddie’s heart clenches as he locks eyes with Steve, flitting back and forth between the rest of the haunt and the door they’d just entered through. His nostrils are flared, his lips tight, his eyebrows knitting together above his nose.

Eddie’s gonna follow him alright, but not for the reasons he's initially planned.

“My name is Krusty, and I’m your new friend.”

He circles around Steve like a predator and leans closer, his lips nearly grazing Steve’s ear. “Follow my lead, I’ll get you outta here.”

Steve turns too quickly and their faces narrowly avoid one another, shoved between the kids itching to keep moving and the wall. Eddie nods and tries to make his smile comforting and reassuring. It must work because Steve’s shoulders drop from his ears and he whispers back.

“Thanks.”

—

Eddie bangs on the wall each time they enter the new room, cackling and yelling things like Fresh meat! and Look, I found us some new friends! The kids seem to be thoroughly enjoying themselves, and even Eddie can’t help but laugh when one of his fellow scare actors snorts in the curly-headed kid’s ear loud enough that he damn near jumps into Steve’s arms.

“Jesus Christ, Dustin!” Steve topples backwards into Eddie, who braces himself against a prop cotton candy machine. “Remember earlier? It’s fake, Steve, c’mon?”

From around Steve’s shoulder, Eddie sees Dustin shoot Steve an annoyed look with wide, incredulous eyes.

“Alright, alright, you good?” Steve rectifies, his voice softer.

Dustin nods and straightens himself out with a pat on the head and ruffle from Steve before walking forward to rejoin the group.

“Last scare, Harrington” Eddie takes the opportunity to whisper in Steve’s ear, dropping out of character entirely.

Who can blame him? How can he be expected to stay in the headspace of a terrifying, bloody clown when Steve Harrington is in his space, protecting little sheep when he’s afraid himself? And wearing some of the tightest jeans he’s ever seen?

He’s just a man.

Steve whips around with furrowed brows and a wrinkled nose. “How the fuck do you know my name?”

“Krusty knows everything.”

He tries to shift back into gear and grins as he licks the fake blood that’s dripped down his nose to his top lip. It must be the fog machine, because there’s no way he just caught Steve’s eyes flickering down to track the movement.

Nothing’s real in a haunted house.

“Your children seem to have disappeared without you, let’s go catch them. Before someone else does.” Eddie claps his hands together with faux glee and skips ahead.

The last room of the haunt is Eddie’s least favorite, truthfully. No actors, no human presence, just disorienting, kaleidescopic strobe lights, cobwebs hanging from the ceiling tangling themselves in whatever they can reach, and disembodied, whirring noises blaring from the speakers. If anything, it just gives him a headache.

Steve’s charges handle it well enough; like many others, they complain that it was boring and Eddie overhears some of their constructive criticisms. He agrees with their stance, but can’t spend much time focusing on that.

Not when he looks back to check on Steve only to find him with one hand over his eyes and the other scaling the side of the wall, cobwebs sticking to the sleeve of his jacket and knotting in his hair.

Before Eddie can think about what he’s doing, his feet make the decision for him and he approaches Steve, places a hand on his lower back. Steve startles against the touch but doesn’t move his hand.

“Just keep your eyes closed and I’ll get us out, okay? We all fuckin’ hate this room, trust me.”

Steve nods and takes a shaky breath, letting Eddie guide him through the room as quickly and discreetly as possible. “It’s just the goddamn lights, man. I get migraines and these are the worst. Those kids give me enough headaches without the extra help.”

Eddie gives a soft chuckle and shakes his head, looks Steve up and down briefly before they reach the end. Selfishly, Eddie wants to take his time and soak up the false reality of the haunted house and the safety it offers because really, in what other world will he ever be this close to Steve Harrington again? But he can tell the guy he’s suffering and Eddie has his fantasies to fall back on later.

They’ve gotten him this far.

“Why’d you bring ‘em then?” He asks, curious.

Steve shrugs and sighs. “They’re good kids and wanted to come, and I’m the babysitter so, of course, it’s me. Gotta make sure they’re safe.”

He says the last bit with a heaviness that Eddie doesn’t quite understand but they take their last few steps out into the night. The illusion of the haunted house crumbles, Eddie removes his hand as though he’s been branded, and Steve’s eyes flutter open.

“Well, you did great. Your monsters are over there.” Eddie gestures with his chin towards the open field where six kids sit in a circle, laughing a bit too loudly.

“Better go wrangle them up.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and comes away with a cobweb.

“Oh yeah, you’ve got a little–” Eddie starts, reaching up impulsively to pick what he can out of Steve’s hair.

He’s touching The Hair’s hair, and he doesn’t catch the rumored Harrington right hook for it. Instead, Steves stands silent as Eddie works, staring and blinking a few times.

“There ya go, de-cobwebed. Free of charge,” Eddie smirks with pursed lips. “Unless you wanna tip, there’s a jar up front.”

“Thanks,” Steve starts, running both hands through his hair and shaking as though to make sure. Or to torment Eddie. Maybe both. “For this and for uh, that.” He jerks his thumb behind them towards the house.

“Any time, man. Any time. Spread the word, will ya? We could use the business.”

Steve smiles at him as he turns to walk away, and Eddie wishes it was really him on the receiving end. But it’s not, because Steve doesn’t recognize him behind all the makeup. He’s just Krusty: bleeding heart, overly kind menacing clown.

It's true, the motto. Nothing's real in a haunted house.

“Oh and, hey,” Steve calls out when he’s just a few steps away.

“Yeah?” Eddie responds as Steve turns to look over his shoulder.

“See you in Click’s class on Monday, Munson.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie month #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #eddie month prompts #please consider reblogging if you enjoy! <333

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norrisleclercf1 · 29 days

Note

hi it's j/@piastrification and i have come to suggest: a proposal fic. whether 16, 81, 33, writer's pick :P

A/N: And I owe you babe and I always pay back also I'm writing this as you can read it as any of them

He was going to throw up. He wasn't sure when it was going to happen, but it was and he was so glad they hadn't eaten yet. He doesn't know how he could have gotten through this had you both gone to the restaurant.

Instead here you two are on a small little boat a little ways out from the coast and the city was gorgeous. it was little stars and it made him think how crazy that each light on was someone living their life. And all he could think in this moment was how his life was about to change for the best.

He always wanted to marry you, from the first time you two spilled coffee on one another, you two haven't been separated since. It was a little silly, but he loved that memory, it was the first one that came to his head when he thought of.

The way you laughed in annoyance and tore him a new one not even caring who is was, and you really didn't know who he was until the barista was freaking out over him having spilled coffee all over himself. He chuckles to himself as he sees you watch the city skyline, palming the little box in his palm he takes a deep breath and tries to shake away the nervousness. He drove at crazy ass speeds yet here he was nervous to ask four simple words.

But they really weren't four simple words. They are four words that will change the way his life moves on from here. From here a family will be built, with you two and maybe two or 3 mini yous, and some animals as well, but all he knew was that at the end of this night you'd be walking off with that ring on your finger and your fingers wrapped tight around his heart with no way out.

And he will happily take that.

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clusterbuck · 26 days

Text

got the notion

7x02 coda

Hen drives to the firehouse, and changes her mind with every stoplight she hits.

Red light. Maybe this is an overreaction.

Green light. Bobby and Athena need help.

Red light. Cruise ships are built to withstand the weather, and the Uno had turned away from the storm. The Coast Guard has to be aware of the storm by now, and they’ll be on high alert for any distress.

Every rational thought points to everything being fine.

But—the light turns green, Hen hits the gas, and she remembers a sunny afternoon six years ago. Then, too, every rational thought had pointed to everything being fine, until she and Buck had found Bobby passed out cold.

There’s just one nagging thought at the back of her mind.

“Hey, Siri,” she says, slowing down at yet another red light. “Call Karen.”

“What did Maddie say?” Karen asks as soon as she picks up. Her voice is concerned, and Hen loves her for it. Karen, at least, understands.

“Am I overreacting?” Hen asks instead of answering. The question had been building so long it needed to escape.

“Tell me what Maddie said first,” Karen says. “I can’t answer without all the information.”

“She thinks something happened,” Hen says. “She called the local 911 down in Mexico, apparently they got a bunch of calls from the ship that all dropped.”

“Sure sounds like something happened,” Karen says. “So, you’re going out there?” She sounds the way she always does when Hen is about to run headfirst into danger, proud and terrified all at once.

“I—” Hen says, her fingers gripping the steering wheel. “I was going to, but I ran into Chief Simpson.”

“Oh,” Karen says, then, “oh no, he didn’t fire you?”

“No,” Hen says. “Just told me to get back to work. I told him about the ship, but he just said it’s not in our jurisdiction.”

“Oh,” Karen says again. There’s a humming on the line like she’s about to say something else, but she stays silent and lets Hen gather her thoughts.

“Is he right?” she asks, after another few seconds of silence. “Am I making the wrong call again?”

“What do you mean again?” Karen asks. “Didn’t you just say he told you to go back to work? That means you made right call, doesn’t it?”

“Just because it wasn’t wrong doesn’t mean it was right,” Hen says. “It was—Karen, I honestly don’t know what it was.”

“We don’t need to figure that out right now,” Karen says. “Do you think going after Bobby and Athena is the right call?”

Hen takes a breath. One second stretches into two, then five, and still, she doesn’t answer.

“Hen,” Karen says. “What does your instinct say?”

“Something is wrong,” Hen says. “I know it is. And the ocean may not be part of the LAFD’s jurisdiction, but Bobby and Athena are my jurisdiction.”

“Then go get ‘em,” Karen says. “But, Hen?”

“Yeah?”

“Come home to me.” Karen’s voice doesn’t shake, but Hen knows that’s only thanks to years and years of practice.

“I will,” Hen says. “I promise.”

By the time she hits the red light around the corner from the firehouse, Hen is certain that she’s made the right decision. She might have forgotten it for a moment, but she trusts her instincts.

The only uncertainty remaining is how she’s going to convince the rest of the team to accompany her, with nothing but a map of ships off the California coast and a bad gut feeling to go off.

But when she walks into the app bay, Chimney, Eddie, and Buck are lined up and waiting for her.

“Get changed and let’s go,” Eddie says. “Chopper’s on the way.”

Hen blinks. “How did you—”

“Maddie called,” Chimney says, brandishing his phone. “So I called Tommy, called in a favour.”

“Don’t you still owe him from last time?” Buck asks, and Chimney frowns.

“Well techincally—”

“We can settle it on the way,” Hen says, before the two of them can really start bickering, but her heart feels like it grows a size with every half-jogged step towards the locker room.

Bobby and Athena are their jurisdiction, and they’re on their way.

#911fic #hen wilson #911 7x02 #911 spoilers #shush emma #emma writes #they threw off my lyrics from a soundtrack song naming scheme so the title is from the song rock the boat instead #this was hard bc everything is kind of unfinished and i like to do look back and reflect codas lmao #but here we are anyway

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ninzied · 1 day

Text

pieces

they fight. brownstone era. for @dreamsinthewitchouse. ~1k.

It starts out so small that Henry hardly realizes what it’s become until it’s too late. He doesn’t mean to sigh when Alex gets home and sets his things down at the table, next to the dinner Henry’s spent hours making only to then watch grow cold. But then Alex’s apology—which Henry is certain he means but rather wishes hadn’t been needed to start with—feels just sharp enough that Henry is hurt by it, and the hurt comes out all wrong.

It comes out angry, and maybe a little bit selfish, and Alex is stretched thin as it is, Henry knows this, yet once he’s made it about himself it’s like a disease and he can’t seem to stop it from spreading.

And then he hears Alex say that he can take the couch, and Henry goes so still it’s as if Alex just dealt him a physical blow. They’re fighting, he realizes. It’s one dinner, which Alex hadn’t even known he was missing, and now it’s come to them sleeping apart because Henry’s little feelings got wounded?

“No,” says Henry. “Absolutely not.”

Alex rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Are we really going to fight about this, too?”

“No,” says Henry hotly, “because this part is not up for discussion. You’re the one with exams tomorrow, so I’ll be taking the couch tonight, thanks.”

“Hen,” Alex starts, but Henry walks past him into the kitchen. He’s hanging on by a death grip to his very last shred of dignity when all he wants to do is let go.

His cloudy mood dissipates halfway through doing the dishes. Still, it takes with it more than just anger, draining him totally, leaving him not so much clear-headed as feeling like he’s all hollowed out.

Henry knows he’ll get no sleep tonight.

It’s not the couch itself, of course; it’s that even after all this time, sleep still doesn’t come easily without Alex there beside him. It’s David worrying at Henry’s feet, making distressed little snuffling sounds. It’s that no matter how small the fight, or how infrequently they do it, each time it never fails to awaken in Henry all the old fears that Alex will leave him. That Alex will finally decide he’s had enough of—well, all of this. All of Henry.

He tries not to think it too often. It’s not fair to Alex, and to the beautiful life that they’ve built together, but when 3AM comes and the semi-delirium of no sleep sets in, those fears are harder to write off as not real.

He wants nothing more than to go to Alex. To hold him and tell him how sorry he is, that he’s asked for more than he has any right to. That loving someone like Henry is neither simple nor easy, he knows, and he wants to be better, he will be better, for Alex. But that would be letting his fears speak for him, saying he’s less than, that the broken things in him are simply not meant to be loved.

Henry can do better than that. Alex would never stand for such talk, and perhaps more importantly, Henry will not stand for it either.

He tosses and turns, and lets the fears have their moment, looming large there in the dark. And then he gathers a blanket around his shoulders and heads up the stairs.

The light is still on in their bedroom. Henry can hear the flip of a page, the faint scratch of a pen from behind the door. He closes his eyes and pictures Alex at their desk, a hand through his hair, his forehead creased in concentration. Henry’s soothed by the routine of it, the familiar touches of a life with a person he knows so well and loves more than it should be possible to love another person but isn’t.

And he owes it to Alex, to let Alex love him back the same way.

Henry tucks himself in right there in the hallway, content just to know that Alex is there, and to not demand anything more of him than that. The fears retreat to their shadows once more, back to a smaller haunting—always there, a part of Henry, but a part that he knows Alex loves, just as fiercely as the rest of him, always.

He’s not certain how long he’s dozed for, but the next thing he knows is the feel of Alex’s lips on his brow. The soft way he murmurs, “Baby. Scoot over. David, you too. How long have you been here? Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Mm.” Henry cracks a bleary eye open as Alex drapes something heavy around them. His arms encircle Henry next, and it’s hard to think of a reason to move now that it feels like they’re both where they should be. David noses his way beneath the covers, shifting down to curl at their feet. “Love, are these our bed linens?”

“Yeah,” says Alex, nuzzling into Henry’s neck. That one simple touch is enough to make Henry’s entire chest ache with relief. “Was going to sneak onto the couch next to you. This works too though. Fuck, I missed you.”

“We shouldn’t stay on the floor,” Henry tells him, burrowing closer, breathing him in. His words are half-muffled against Alex’s chest. “You need rest, in an actual bed. You’ve worked hard and you deserve the world to show for it.”

“Don’t need any of that,” says Alex. “Just you. I will fight you on that part,” he adds when Henry opens his mouth. “I’m so pissed at myself that you thought for even a second any of those things could matter to me more than this.”

“No, I’ve been selfish,” frowns Henry. “I’ve been too focused on what I want, and what makes me happy, and—”

“Good,” says Alex. “It’s about fucking time.”

And then he leans in and kisses Henry like it’s everything Alex wants too, Henry defending himself, Henry fighting for what he wants and deserves. Henry, knowing he’s loved, and loved, for all that he is and never for a single thing less than that.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #rwrb fic #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fanfic #iuserzoe #chrissiewatts #userveronika #usersteen #usergayppl #usernuria #sheisraging #usergf #kay i owe you another version of this prompt because this did not go the direction i'd planned 🙈

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littledovesnow · 4 months

Text

vows

the wedding vows <3

word count: idk like 1k i think??

a/n: i cried writing this lol, also didn't proof this at all

-----

“Are you nervous?” You asked, sitting in the bridal suite with your newly minted husband, who kept spinning his new ring adorning his finger.

Shaking his head, he smiled up at you. “Not at all, gorgeous. Are you nervous? I’ve seen you ruminating over the vows since I got down on my knee.”

You felt your cheeks flush, sitting next to Coriolanus on the plush couch. This short period of time is something you and Coriolanus said was a necessity in this special day, wanting time to share vows and have a moment alone before all of the excitement and partying at the reception.

“I’m not entirely too sure if it’s nerves or excitement.” You admitted, fiddling with a loose string on the couch. “I feel like my vows are going to be so terrible, worse than any paper I had in school.”

Coriolanus frowned, squeezing your hand to get your attention. “I’m sure they’re wonderful.”

You gnawed on your lower lip, an awful habit you had developed in your teen years. “Do- do you want me to go first?”

“It’s up to you, my love.” Coriolanus murmured, not wanting to pressure you into anything, something you were so grateful he did.

“I think, I think I want you to go first.”

Nodding, Coriolanus pulled out the crumpled paper, eliciting a quiet laugh from you.

“Don’t laugh, my love is written on this paper.”

You held your hands up, your heart already swelling with love at the sight of the blonde man, who seemed just like the lanky acne-faced classmate you met all those years ago.

Clearing his throat, Coriolanus looked down at the paper for a moment, before saying your name in the velvety-smooth voice he used only when he was with you.

“I feel like I can conquer the world when you’re next to me, the love and strength you show is one of my favorite things about you. From when we were assigned lab partners, to mentoring at the Hunger Games, to being granted internships at the Citadel, you’ve always been the light I’m drawn to as a moth is to a flame. Thank you for loving me in my weakest times, for loving me when I was undeserving, I know that I’m not the easiest person to love. Thank you for always helping me be the best version of myself, for being the sole voice of reason in the echo chamber that is my life.”

You sniffled, Coriolanus glancing up at you with a soft smile before continuing his vows.

“From when you first came into my life, and didn’t bat an eye at my upbringing, my home, my family, I knew you were the one who would become my other half. You always treat Grandma’am and Tigris with the respect and love they deserve, for that I owe you my life. I vow to always put you first, I vow to keep you out of harm’s way, and I vow to be the best husband I can be. I vow to be the best father I can be, when the times comes, and I know you’ll be the world’s most amazing mother. I vow to love you without any reservations, to always be the reason for your gorgeous smile. I love you, my love.”

You were full-on crying when Coriolanus ended his vows, and he quickly exchanged the paper for the cloth napkins on the table, picking up the one that already had mascara stains on it from earlier.

“I love you, too, Coryo.” You mumbled, scooting over on the couch to hug your husband. “I love you so much.”

You two had a small moment of peace, before you sniffled and sat up, preparing yourself for your own vows.

Coriolanus gave your knee an encouraging squeeze, knowing you weren’t a fan of speeches in general, whether they be in front of large audiences or family friends.

“Coryo,” you started, knowing he wasn’t the biggest fan of when you said his full name, but you knew he would never react harshly to you. “From the day we first met, I felt like a magnet drawn to you. You wanted nothing to do with me, but I was determined to break you, to see the real you under the tough, serious exterior you’ve built up. And I am so glad I did, so glad I got to meet the real you, the Coryo who will laugh at my corny jokes, who will never complain when I steal the comforter in bed, who will take a bullet for me. You understand me, see me, accept me in a way that no one has before, you are truly my best friend, and I feel like the world’s luckiest woman to be able to call you my husband. I vow to always be your confidante, your partner-in-crime. I vow to have the patience that love demands, to always listen before reacting, to give you my whole heart. You are my person, my lover, my life, today, tomorrow, forever. I love you, Coriolanus Snow, you hold the key to my heart.”

Coriolanus’ eyes were glistening when you looked up from your paper, and you just barely saw his lip quivering.

“Do you mean that?” He asked softly, not wanting to break the serene moment.

Nodding, you gave him a watery smile, a fresh wave of tears spilling onto your cheeks. “Of course I mean it, you goon.”

Coriolanus pulled you up, wanting to properly hug you, inhaling the fresh vanilla and chai from your shampoo. “You are the reason my heart beats.”

“As are you, Coryo,” you replied, smiling as his lips met yours.

“Now, let’s give the Capitol the wedding reception of their lives.” You laced your fingers with Coriolanus’, his wedding band cool on your own fingers.

“After you, Mrs. Snow.” Coriolanus smiled, eyes glinting with hunger as he called you by your new surname for the first time.

-----

a/n: okay you're all so lucky this was requested i saved you form angst like coryo saved lucy gray

but for real there's some good angst coming in the new year

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games tbosas #hunger games x reader #hunger games imagine

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calypsocolada · 8 months

Text

WINNER WINNER | r. zoro

(click here for part two)

synopsis: a stoic swordsman helps you figure out what your type is. authors note: hi :] i like zoro. no other notes. cw: violence, fluff, small bit of angst, clueless!reader, kissin :*, zoroxreader, small bit of sanjixreader wc: 4.4k

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Zoro’s wooden practice sword swung in an unpredictable arch, you knew you couldn’t avoid it so you turned, letting it smack hard against your shoulder. Pain zaps through your body, the hit more annoying than painful.

“Ow!” You growled, eyes narrowing. Zoro danced around you, you never knew how light-footed he could be, how quick and precise his sword play was. Zoro was a huge man, he was easily two feet taller than you, built like a damn freight train and somehow still quicker than you. Zoro’s mouth quirked up in a smart ass smirk, his brows raising tauntingly.

“I thought you said you were getting better.” He jested, obviously trying to get a rise out of you. You took the bait every damn time. You swing your sword in anger.

“I am!” You yelled, he dodged your assault with ease, playfully hitting your back as you stumbled forwards. You gained your footing and spun back around, swinging again but he just bats it away lazily.

“Come on, killer, swing with purpose not with anger.” He says listlessly, like he’s bored with this.

Of course he was bored, he was probably the best swordsman in the world, you were just some idiot pirates daughter. It had been a few months since escaping your fathers crew and although you were one of your fathers best fighters you fought more close combat style, with knives mostly. Swords were long and heavy, especially the ones Zoro used. It was like he made them out of boulders rather than steel. But right now you were using practice swords because you’re sure that if this was a real fight you’d be dead and buried.

You grip the handle of the sword hard, knuckles turning white. You weren’t used to defeat, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Zoro’s stretched a bit, yawning. The anger always took you over. You were your fathers daughter after all. You pretended to swing the sword again, with clumsy maneuvering and when Zoro went to bat it away you chucked the sword aside, dodging his blade, hitting him square in the stomach with your shoulder. It was meant to take him down but he didn’t budge against you. It was as though you were pushing against a damn tree. You remembered just then how it felt fighting your father, how unmovable he was. You were raising your knee before you could even stop yourself as he knee him square between the legs. A rush of air leaves his lips and the way his body shifts you know you finally caught him off balance. You sweep a leg out from under him and with all the force in your body you shove against him. You both slam against the forest floor, your hips straddling his abs as you jam your forearm down against his neck, successfully pinning him beneath you. He looks up at you with immeasurable annoyance.

“You’re a dirty fighter.” He huffs, groaning in pain. You nod your head, a proud fact you already knew.

“You’ve met my father, right?” You jest. This was something new you were learning. Since joining up with Luffy’s crew there were a few things you had to learn.

They weren’t out to get you.

You were raised by a killer, his crew were a bunch of killers so naturally you grew up always keeping watch of those around you because the moment you slacked out someone would have their hands around your neck just waiting to extinguish your fire.

2. You had to soften up and learn to work as a member of a team.

This one you were still working on. You were alone most of your life, your father never spared you a kind word and sometimes at night you’d lay awake, knowing you were just like him sometimes. You guarded every part of your heart so well that sometimes you could trick yourself into thinking you never had one to begin with. But it beat the day you met Luffy’s crew. They saved you, even when you were good, they knew who and where’d you’d come from and still accepted you for who you were. That meant to you that you had to change. If you wanted to stay a member of this crew you had to let them in. You couldn’t push them away because one bad day would come and they’d stay away. You didn’t think you could survive that. Knowing that there was warmth in this world that you turned cold.

3. Lastly, how to protect someone.

You could protect yourself just fine because you’d been left behind in wakes your entire life. But you wouldn’t do that to them. You’d stay and fight because that’s what they did for you. You weren’t just looking out for yourself anymore, you had people, possibly a family, it’d take the devil himself to pull that from your grip.

“Yeah I met him, he’s an asshole, like you.” Zoro grunts, his pinned hands escaping from your fingers as he turns the tide, swinging you to your back, pressing you into the dirt. You’re not sure where his sword came from but the wooden edge of it was pressed gently against your throat. He beat you. You groaned out a sigh as he cocked his head to the side.

“I had you.” You fume as he purses his lips, he’s heavy against you, it feels like ten men rather than one.

“For a second.”

“That’s all a killer needs.” You dared. He must’ve seen that look in your eyes before because he presses the sword ever closer to your neck, but not hard enough to actually hurt.

“We’re done for today.” He says and suddenly his weight is lifted off you and you feel as though you could finally breathe again. You didn’t know you were holding your breath. Zoro extends a hand to you, narrowing his eyes. “No funny business, I’m hungry.” He warns because for someone who’s only known you for a few months he knows you pretty damn well. Knew that look in your eye, that you would take his hand and end up trying to pin him beneath you again. He knew you hated to lose. You took his hand and did nothing of the sort because you were hungry too. He pulled you to your feet with ease and kept hold of your hand for a second as he spoke. “You’re a good fighter, don’t give up on practicing.” He says and the look in his eye is intense, he meant it. He lets your hand go and bends to grab the practice sword that you tossed aside.

“I don’t see the point in it, I fight better close.”

“You can fight better any way you choose. You master the sword and you give yourself more options.” He says, tossing it to you, you catch it with ease.

“More options?”

“To survive. You want that don’t you?” He asks over his shoulder, walking back towards the camp that the crew had set up near the beach. You never thought of it like that before. You learned how to fight because your father needed someone unassuming to kill. Who’s more unassuming than a young girl? You always fought to kill, to end lives, you never cared much for your own. Who could care for a killer after all? Zoro slowed, tossing a glance over his shoulder at you after you took too long to answer.

“Of course I want that.” But your words sounded hollow. There was still that nagging voice of your fathers. There was only so many times someone you looked up to could call you worthless before you started to believe it. It was ingrained in you. To live but not feel worthy of life. Maybe you did want to live, but that didn’t mean you felt like you deserved to. You’d done wrong your entire life, killed and followed in the footsteps of someone you knew was bad. Didn’t that make you guilty of something?

Zoro’s eyes dissected you, that face you made and the tone of your voice. He was a smart man and for all his faux uninterested stare he read you like a damn book. Like he’d cracked open your mind and read your innermost secrets. It was strange, having someone who you couldn’t fool. Someone who could look at you and call bullshit.

“Do you just want to survive for the sake of others or for yourself?” He asked, slowing to a stop. Crickets chirped around you, wind picking up, swaying the leaves of the trees gently. You stopped too, mindlessly turning the practice sword over in your hands.

“Is that a trick question?” You asked and watched him shake his head. You turn the question over in your head. “Surviving for yourself is quite selfish right?”

“Not necessarily.” He breathes out, walking and plopping down listlessly on a stump, he stretches out his legs. “You charge into things head on, you don’t wait for others to act.”

“That’s a good thing.” You cross your arms defensively. “How else would you catch enemies by surprise?”

“By others I meant your crew. When you charge into things you could end up getting hurt.” He countered, you kick at a raised root and toss your head back a bit dramatically.

“But if I kill the bad guys first you guys have nothing to worry about.”

“We’d still worry about you.”

“Why?” You questioned as though someone worrying about you was way out of the realm of possibility.

“Because you aren’t a martyr, we don’t need you throwing yourself on the knife.” Zoro argues, it’s one of the first times he seems interested in what he’s talking about. Passionate even. “I know what you’re used to. That’s why I wanted to train you.”

“So I can fight with a long blade instead of a short one?” You quipped.

“So you can fight next to me.” He says as though you should’ve known. You look up from the ground over to him. He has this strange look in his eyes, the kind of strange look Sanji gave you sometimes, though Sanji looked at every girl like that. But not Zoro, the man was inexpressive usually.

“Fight next to you?” You echo, as if trying the words out loud would give them a different meaning. Zoro nods his head.

“Wouldn’t it be nice? Not having to wonder who has your back?” He asks. You look at him, something stirring inside you.

“Is that what you want?” You start. “Someone who can keep up with you?”

He nods his head.

“Don’t you?” You ponder it for a moment.

“I guess, yeah.” You say softly. “I feel like I keep up with you just fine.”

“You could be better.” Zoro jests, pushing off the stump he sat on.

“I took you down, big man.” You growl, jogging to catch up with him as the sun starts to set.

“You cheated.”

“I was being… resourceful.” You said and heard Zoro laugh, a warm laugh coming from his chest. You never heard him laugh before, probably in the same way he’d never heard you laugh. You both were somewhat serious types.

“Sure, let’s call it that.” He intones.

Back at the campsite the first person to greet you and Zoro was Sanji. Ever since landing on this island Sanji had been acting somewhat differently to Zoro, almost colder. You had no idea what that was about and honestly you didn’t care, not presently because they always bickered anyways.

“There you guys are!” Sanji all but growls, shooting dagger at Zoro. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He says, giving you a kind smile.

“We didn’t mean to keep you guys, you could’ve eaten.” You say as Sanji shakes his head, guiding you with a gentle hand on your back towards the food.

“Nonsense, it was no trouble.” Sanji croons as you look towards the rest of the crew. Luffy has his hands crossed against his chest tightly, his face scrunched in annoyance.

“It was a little trouble.” Luffy grumbles as Sanji shoots daggers at him. You sit down, Sanji occupying the seat next to you as Zoro plops down in the sand across from you. It's quiet as everyone digs into their food.

“How is it?” Sanji asks, eyes watching you. You’d just filled your mouthful, unable to answer right at that moment.

“It’s a little salty.” Usopp chided as Sanji hurled a dinner roll at him.

“I wasn’t asking you!” Sanji ranted, the roll hitting Usopp square between the eyes. You and Luffy both snort in laughter. You laugh, almost choking on your food which serves to make you two laugh even harder. Sanji turns to you with a worried expression, lightly hitting your back as you're able to swallow your food properly. You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you give Sanji a small smile.

“It tastes good, Sanji, thank you.” You say and Sanji practically melts.

“Usopp’s right,” Zoro starts, a mischievous look in his eyes. “It’s a bit salty.” Sanji’s eyes turn to slits as he grabs another roll, hucking it at Zoro who catches it with ease, grinning before taking a bite out of it.

“I don’t care what you think because my dear Y/n likes it.” Sanji proclaimed, turning to you. “Would you like some more, dear?”

“Sure.” You shrug as he practically stumbles over himself to grab you more. Your eyes meet with Zoro’s, he gives you a wink and you roll your eyes. Zoro liked messing with Sanji and most of the time it was pretty funny. Sanji took a big liking to you and Zoro liked to tease him about it. You weren’t sure what it was that Sanji liked about you but he was always quick to give you anything you asked for. Sanji fills your plate and as the night winds down Luffy, Nami and Usopp take off for bed.

You sit by the fire next to Sanji, your legs pulled to your chest as he leans back, eyes staring at the stars. It’s quiet, just the sound of the fire crackling and the waves of water crashing nearby. Your eyes watch the fire as it slowly lulls you into comfort. Suddenly a blanket is placed over your shoulders as you blink, eyes watering. You turn to see Zoro as he plops down near you. You silently thank him, pulling the covers closer to your chest, shielded from the cold. Something burning hotter was the look you caught sight of from Sanji, he looked as though he was seconds away from challenging Zoro to a duel. But when he noticed you his face morphed into a smile again.

“Is a measly blanket gonna be enough to keep you warm, my dear?” Sanji asks. “I could scoot closer to you?” He offers.

“The blanket’s good.” You answer, unaware of the implications. Zoro snorts beside you, amused at something you weren’t sure of.

“Do you have something to add, Zoro?” Sanji hisses as Zoro, face unphased as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Sanji?” You start.

“Yes, dear?” He asks, voice all soft, way different from the tone he was using a second ago.

“Did Zoro do something to make you angry?” You ask, making Zoro snort again. Sanji shakes his head.

“Nothing more than usual, dear, no need to worry.” He says and you nod your head, satisfied with that answer, eyes sliding back towards the fire. “Could I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” You hum, watching the flames flicker and dance.

“What’s your type?” He asks. Zoro doesn’t snort this time, he fully laughs, gaining an angry stare from Sanji. “Shut your mouth you damn idiot!” Sanji yells across the fire at Zoro. “You’re ruining the moment!”

“My type of what?” You ask cluelessly. Zoro can’t help but laugh even more. You look over at him, confused but he’s laughing so hard his eyes are closed. You look back at Sanji.

“Ignore that damn fool, dear. Your type in a partner.” He explains.

“Type in a partner?” You echo, Zoro slowly quiets down next to you. Sanji nods his head. You purse your lips, thinking. You and Zoro fought pretty well together the few times you had to, it was just mere hours ago that he told you he liked the idea of fighting with you and you had to admit you didn’t mind that also. “I guess Zoro would be my type.” You say, completely unaware of the havoc you just caused. Sanji clamps a hand to his chest dramatically over his heart. You look at Zoro, his cheeks blushing a moment before he begins a fit of laughter all over again. Understanding the miscommunication before you and Sanji do.

“You hear that, Sanji? I’m her type.” Zoro boasts jokingly, throwing an arm around your shoulders, loving the effect it was having on Sanji. Sanji looked like a deflated balloon. Sanji sinks back into the sand as you cock your head, confused. Zoro gives your shoulder a small squeeze as you look back over at him. “He meant romantic partner.” He whispers just to you. Your eyebrows raise, mouthing the word ‘oh’.

“I’m sorry, Sanji, I thought you meant fighting partner.” You corrected and Sanji shot back up, hopefulness on his face again.

“It’s okay, dear, you scared me there.” Sanji sighs wistfully, running a hand through his hair. Zoro’s arm moves away from you as you look back at him.

“Keep it there.” You order softly. “I was getting warm.” Zoro’s brows raise in surprise but he does as you ask, even scooting a bit closer to you. When you look back at Sanji his jaw is practically touching the sand. “What?” You ask innocently, he shuts his mouth instantly, shaking his head.

“N-nothing.” He turns away, kicking sand at the fire. You feel Zoro laugh softly. You had no idea what sort of nonverbal conversation these two were having and honestly you didn’t care to know. You close your eyes, leaning into Zoro’s warmth. Romantic partner. You were thinking about it now because you’d never thought about it before. There was no love where you came from, no positive role models, no romantic tension. That stuff was way out of your realm of understanding.

“How do you know your type?” You ask, turning to look at Sanji. His eyes meet yours, his eyes glancing at Zoro’s arm around your shoulders then back to you.

“That's a hard one to explain.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Is it something you just know?” You ask and Sanji nods his head.

“More or less, yeah,” Suddenly he lets out a big yawn, stretching. “Boy am I beat. Are you tired?” He asks you.

“Not really.” You say and watch as he pouts.

“Maybe you should head off to bed then.” Zoro says. Sanji’s eyes glare his way as he grumbles, pushing up from the sand and dusting himself off.

“Night,” He says sharply, trudging across the sand back towards the ship. You watch him go.

“He is so strange.” You whisper, earning a warm laugh from Zoro.

“You're clueless, you know that.” He remarked with another soft laugh. You turn to look at him.

“Why?” You ask, his eyes slide to yours.

“He likes you, killer, a lot.” Zoro explains. You furrow your brows, you already knew he liked you, he treated you very kindly. “And I know what you're thinking. It’s not that kind of like.”

“What other kind is there?” This garners another laugh. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry,” Zoro chuckles, smiling warmly. “He likes you… romantically.” He emphasizes and suddenly everything starts falling into place in your mind. He was always going out of his way for you, giving you extra food, following you around like a lost puppy, practically begging for your attention.

“Hm.” You hum, turning back to look at the fire.

“Hm?” Zoro echoes. “You sound mildly uninterested.”

“Eh, I don’t- I guess I don’t understand.”

“Which part?”

“Why would he like me? That makes no sense.” You say and for a moment Zoro is quiet, you turn to look at him, his cheeks pink, probably from the heat of the fire you guessed.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asks. And when you just look at him quizzically he pities you a bit. He inhales, sighing. “You do know you're gorgeous right?” He asks as though you did know that. That was not what you were expecting him to say. You can’t remember the last time someone referred to you in a positive connotation.

“I-- I don’t think so.” You say, your cheeks feel hot under Zoro’s stare, you feel slightly nervous suddenly, but not a bad nervous, you're not really sure how to explain it. It’s completely new to you.

“Well you are. And you're strong, men love strong women.” Zoro goes on, he’s leaning back slightly, his arm still around you as he gazes up at the stars. You bite your lip, your mouth feels dry. Were you getting sick or something?

“Do you?”

“Hell yeah I do, I’m not an idiot.” He says, amused. You nod your head.

“Hm.” You say and he looks at you with that amused expression. “But what does him liking me have to do with you? He looked angry with you all night?” You ask, piecing things together in your mind.

“He’s jealous, killer.” He says.

“Jealous, huh…” You trail off. “Because you're a good partner?” You ask and he scoffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“Sure, let's go with that.” He intones. You lay your head back down on his shoulder, settling against him. You always found your way to Zoro, you two had grown pretty close in the past few weeks. He was a calming presence, one you always seeked out. You liked sitting near him, talking with him and training with him. You liked when he talked and when he looked at you. It was strange, you’d never felt that way before meeting him. Never let your guard down but he just felt like a calming, safe presence to you.

“What’s your type?” You ask and you feel Zoro tense up slightly, you turn slightly to look up at him. “Something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong.” He says, recovering smoothly. “Are we talking about fighting partners?” He jokes, earning a laugh from you.

“Apparently not.” You answer. Waiting for a reply. Zoro’s arm slightly tightens around you, pulling you just a bit closer as he fixes the cover that had fallen off your shoulder.

“I think I might keep that a mystery.” He answers as you huff out a laugh.

“Keep your secrets then.” You say, letting your eyes drift closed. Sanji’s words float back into your mind, when you asked if liking someone was just something that you knew and he said more or less. It was something you just knew? That was harder to understand for you. “I think I’d like someone who I feel safe with.” You find yourself saying aloud as you try and imagine what that means, you were still kind of getting fighting partner mixed up with a romantic partner because both options you felt you needed someone you could trust.

“That’s a good thing to look out for, killer.” He says softly. You think hard. You felt safe with Zoro, you felt comfortable enough to rest against him. You couldn’t see yourself doing that with Sanji although you trusted him you didn’t want to be that close. Your mind was reeling now. So you liked being close to Zoro? Did that mean anything or nothing at all? You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Romance is confusing.” You find yourself saying. Zoro chuckles, nodding his head.

“Damn straight.” You lift up slightly as he turns to meet your eyes.

“How do you know you know, you know?” You ask as Zoro’s brows raise.

“I don’t know?” He asks as you purse your lips.

“Sanji said your type was just something you knew,” You puzzled.

“Killer, I think you may be overthinking it.” Zoro says.

“What if you think you like someone but you're not completely sure?” You ask as Zoro hums slightly, thinking up an answer for you.

“I guess- I guess you could kiss them.” He offers and you nod your head, leaning forwards to press a quick, searching kiss to Zoro’s lips. For someone so rough around the edges his lips are surprisingly soft against yours, cold from the night time wind. When you pull back Zoro’s eyes are closed, his cheeks as red as cherries. He slowly opens his eyes, he’s stunned to say the least.

“I’ve never kissed someone before.” You say, eyes glancing back down at his lips. You kissed him too quickly to tell if anything came from it. “I’m gonna try again.” You say and he stammers but doesn’t object as you scoot closer and lean to press your lips back against his. You leave them there for a moment. You’d seen people kiss before but trying it now you were completely unsure of the correct way to do it. You feel something bloom but you're pulling away before you can put meaning to it. “I suck at this. You do it.” You say as Zoro finally finds his words.

“You kissed me.” He says shocked and you nod your head.

“It was bad, I don’t know what I’m doing. This is like training with a sword all over again.” You grumble, pouting and crossing your arms.

“You just need a good instructor.” Zoro’s hand slides up from your shoulder to your cheek, moving your face to face him. You have no time to access the way your stomach bottoms out at that before he’s bringing you flush against his lips this time in a delicate embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair, a shock zaps through you at the contact. Zoro knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled in more ways than fighting it seemed. You burned all over, your breath catching in your throat. Sanji was right, you knew right then. Right as he pulled you impossibly closer and kissed you with fervor and confidence. When he pulled back your lips chased after him slightly as you stopped yourself. You swallowed dryly.

“Was that good for you?” He asks, his voice all breathy and hoarse.

“Uh huh.” You exhale. It's quiet for a beat. “I think,” you start, clearing your throat. “I think maybe you should try again.” You whisper and you don’t have to say anything else because Zoro understands. That and he’s kissing you before you can utter another word.

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