#but god is it frustrating to realize i once lived in a place that has so much of its shit together in terms of basic livability

[haveyouseenherlately]

thinking about riding Matty while his hands are tied behind his back yummy yummy monday evening thoughts

oh my god anon, thank you for this.

are you in my head? because this is something i've been wanting to chat about regarding soft subby bf matty but haven't gone around to doing a proper blurb so here are some ramblings that i hope make sense. it's just a run-on stream of consciousness thing with no formatting and no real ending. i also got too carried away so it is a longer one lol

warning: 18+, smut, reader is upset. grammatical errors, typos.

other bf matty blurbs & rambles here.

okay, so imagine you just got home from a fucking awful day of work. freaking debbie from accounting is back at it, making your job impossible and a living hell. who knows what her problem is. anyway. right away when you enter the apartment you are greeted by the scent of a delicious pasta that your dear bf matty is preparing because he's one damn good cook (it's canon for him, lol). you go to the kitchen and sit at the bar, watching as matty whips up the alfredo sauce which is your favourite. matty greets you without looking at first because he's too focused on getting the proper cheese to cream ratio for the sauce, but once he does, he knows right away that something's off.

bad day, huh?

you make some sort of confirming grunt before you rest your forehead on the cold marble countertop. because your head is down, you don't notice the sad expression on matty's face; he cares about you too much so anytime you're feeling down he cannot help but feel upset, too. he takes one last taste of the sauce (perfect!) before he pulls it off the fire and places it on a trivet. as much as he loves cooking and prepping dinner for you, he wants to make you feel better. so the pasta can wait. bless him.

he takes off his denim apron (which has a drawing of a rooster on the front, for some reason...) before heading over to your side. you feel the warm palm of his hand rub your back in the gentlest of ways while his other grabs your hand. c'mon darling. you raise your head to finally look at your surroundings again only to realize that he stove burners are off and his apron is crumpled on the countertop.

matty, what about the food, i know you like finish-

don't worry about it, love, the food will still taste good later on. let's go.

you're not one to deny him, so you get off the stool and follow his lead as he takes you over to the living room, guiding you to both to sit on the sofa.

he asks about your day as he knows talking makes you feel better in these sort of occasions but it catches him off guard (and you as well, truly) when you just start sobbing uncontrollably as you recount your day. the stress and pressure has been building in your body that all you can really do is cry out of frustration. matty instantly brings you close so you're straddling him, arms wrapped tightly around you, trying to provide some sort of comfort as the tears just stream down your face soaking the fabric of his shirt. your head is buried in the crook of his neck, giving him access to gently kiss the skin of your exposed neck, continuously whispering it's okay, it's okay.

and everything is usually okay, but this time you cannot help but feel an overwhelming mixture of anger and exhaustion. it's bad enough that you've subconsciously grabbed fistfuls of your boyfriend's curly hair, and when you realize you're doing so, you instantly jerk away, apologizing profusely while more tears streak down your face.

oh no, i'm sorry. i'm so sor--

he urgently but carefully grabs your face between his hands, bringing his forehead against yours. it's okay, it's okay. everything feels like too much right now, that not even the sensation of his gentle fingers on your face can soothe whatever is brewing inside you.

and at that moment you cannot help but kiss him. hard, fast and hungrily. he whimpers against your lips at the shock of it all, but doesn't hesitate to kiss you back, letting you take the lead and set the pace. teeth clashing against each other, you bitting at his bottom lip, shoving your tongue in his mouth constantly. it's messy and aggressive but he doesn't stop you, only pulling away to catch your breath, looking down at the crumbled fabric of his now over stretched shirt clenched in between your fingers.

seeing his dishevelled state--red swollen lips, unruly hair, wrinkled top--is enough to edge you on to continue, now focusing on leaving marks all over his neck, around the several necklaces that he wears. there's nothing gentle about it, a sharp contrast as to how softly he's holding on to your waist. you lick, bite, suck at any skin that you find, leaving behind countless bruises along the way as he moans uncontrollably underneath you. your left hand is back on his hair, pulling at it so his neck is exposed, while your right one is aimlessly trying to unbutton his pants but failing miserably. god knows you're already frustrated enough, so you just grab one of matty's hands and bring it over to the front of his jeans so he can undo the pesky button and zipper himself. once he's done, he places your palm back at the top of his pants, giving him a mumbled thank you before you slide your fingers under the fabric of his boxers.

you waste no time and start stroking his cock as fast as you can, all while you desperately kiss him leaving you both breathless once more. because of your erratic pace, it doesn't take long for matty to begin losing control. you know he's getting near his climax because of the way his legs are starting to shake and how close he pulls your body against him. however, you're too deep in whatever trance has possessed over you, that you take your hand away as to not let him finish. not yet at least.

and before he says anything about it, you get off his lap and on to your feet, dragging him up with you so you can take off his pants and underwear completely. you instruct him to remove his shirt and you swear he's never done it faster in his life. instantly your lips are clashing against each other for the millionth time that night, giving you the chance to reach behind your head and undo the white silk scarf holding up your ponytail. again, you're not entirely sure what's taken over your mind and body, but before you know it, you tie matty's wrists behind his back.

you push him down on the couch, bitting your bottom lip and silently asking him if this is alright. the fucked out expression and small smile tugging at the corner of his lips is all the confirmation you need.

please.

you take off your soaked underwear but decide to keep your floral cotton dress on because you know it's his favourite. it's the least you can do for how you've been treating him. not that he minds; it's quite the opposite in fact. with each of your knees to his sides, you straddle him for the second time that night, grabbing his cock and guiding him to your cunt before you sink down and take him all at once.

and it fucking hurts. having him inside you without any foreplay is probably a stupid choice, but part of you hopes that the pain can help take away some of the anger and resentment built up in your body not only from that day, but weeks and months prior. more tears end up streaming down your face. from the pain or anger, you don't know. probably both.

hey, hey. love are you ok-?

you cover his mouth with your hand before he can say anything else, but you look at him and nod, glassy eyes assuring him that it is okay. he returns an understanding, soft look, and that's when you finally begin to move your hips, grinding hard against his dick so you can feel every single inch of him inside you. in that instant you see his brown eyes roll to the back of his head, mumbling a fuck against the palm of your hand. you work yourself up to a steady pace, switching between grinding and moving up and down his cock to hit that spot inside you which makes you delusional.

with your fingers still over his open mouth, you can hear his muffled moans, his spit now covering the palm of your hand and dripping down his chin. it's fucking obscene sight but one that you hope you'll never forget.

making sure that his eyes are on yours, you finally take the hand off his mouth. his gaze follows as you take your soaked fingers and guide them under your dress, your high pitched moans a clear sign that you have started to rub your clit.

oh my fucking god.

he snaps his head up to look at you with the most lustful yet loving expression on his face. the adoration radiating off him is too much for you to handle and you cannot help but smile, the first time you’d done so during that whole day. there is no more pain, no more tears, just pure pleasure running through your body, washing away the frustration.

thank you.

#sorry for ending it there #hope this makes some sense #bf matty blurb #anon asks #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #bf matty #matty healy smut #smutty asks #matty asks #bf matty asks

[marimology]

Hi just found your account, love it btw <3. Also just started One Piece after watching the One Piece Live Action, I'm so hopelessly in love with Live Action Zoro 😫

Feel free to ignore, it's just that I'm head empty with my only thought being this hc.

once zoro has you in his arms while cuddling, you've fallen into a trap that you can't escape from. Because he will fall asleep on you in five minutes and he will have a death grip around you. no matter how hard you try he just will not let you go until he wakes up. you're mad at him for holding you hostage for hours and he promises of cuddles and kisses to make up for it. too bad that you're a little slow and realize your mistake too late, and you're trapped in his arms once more

Soft zoro has me in a chokehold I- akrjakgowlngpw

am I hugging my pillow as hard as I can imagining this? yes, yes I am

WELCOME TO THE JOURNEY ANON .. y’all need to stop praising me you’ll make my ego rise ALSO WOOO 200 FOLLOWERS

opla!zoro x reader

notes : this is pirate hunter era zoro because i barely see stuff for him. i love this stinky man hope you don’t mind that it’s transmasc reader

roronoa zoro was not normally a touch starved man you both weren’t , but for some odd reason he just couldn’t let go of you . what was supposed to be a nap that you two took took together later turned into into you trying to escape from the green-haired man’s clutches.

“zoro”

silence

“zoro”

followed by more silence

“zoro let me go—“ you were cut off as he brung the hilt of one of his swords to your lips trying to shush you

“shhhh it’s sleepy time”

“roronoa zoro I swear to the gods… did you just say sleepy time?”

you were once again cut off by the snoring noises of the man beneath you , making you roll your eyes . you attempted to remove yourself from his grip once more before plopping down and giving up and crossing your arms in frustration.

“stupid marimo” you mummered as you just attempted to make yourself comfortable because when this man sleeps he likes to sleep.

after a few hours he had finally woken up placing his head on shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“afternoon” he yawned pulling you close

“sleep well?” you asked clearly annoyed crossing your arms.

“with you here? of course” he replied poking your cheeks as you playfully glared at him “m sorry want me to kiss you and give you cuddles to help” he asked as you hummed and he placed a kiss on your lips

wait a minute

“i - zoro- “

“nope too late not letting you go now”

“fuck you”

“i’ll do that later pretty boy”

#one piece x reader #one piece #op zoro #zoro live action #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece live action #opla x reader #opla zoro #transmasc reader

[fellthemarvelous]

Holy forking shirtballs

I'm choosing violence today. I started this on Twitter, but I'm going to finish my thoughts here like I always do.

But what really blows my mind the most is the way that people look at Aziraphale's "choice" at the end, as if he had one to fucking begin with.

I'm sorry, but Aziraphale knows how messed up Heaven is. He told The Metatron, more than once, that he did not want to go back to Heaven! We can debate what each of us means by "choice" all night because my "choice" and your "choice" might be two different concepts. He could have been strong armed by The Metatron or he could have looked at where things were headed and realized he had no choice but to intervene himself.

You need to ask yourself what Aziraphale has a moral imperative to do.

What do we owe to each other?

Seriously, if you have not watched The Good Place, I recommend you go and watch it, because it absolutely shaped how I've viewed Good Omens 2 since its release.

My levels of frustration with the bad faith mischaracterizations of Aziraphale are off the charts. If you are blaming him for everything, implying that he should have to grovel and that Crowley has a right to hurt him back, you have missed the point of Good Omens entirely.

I defend Aziraphale, but I don't think one of them is more right or wrong than the other. They're equals. They're a group of the two of them, acting and reacting to each other throughout history. They're Alpha Centauri.

I cannot even begin to explain how fucking devastated I felt when Crowley said these words, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. What he said took a lot of courage because he's finally admitting something they've both been too scared to publicly define for 6,000 years. Crowley has had to spend so long with a rough outer shell because he fell and had to hide all of his softness.

The look on his face was one of pure joy when he created that nebula, but I think the fact that he got to share that moment with Aziraphale is what has always stuck with him.

So yeah, seeing Crowley with a broken heart at the end of "Every Day" was sad for me as well.

My brain still lives here!!

But Neil has said that Good Omens 3 is not quiet, gentle, or romantic. I imagine it's going to be more like the the first season in which they are not central to the plot. GO2 will help us make sense of how they ended up where they are when we see the bigger picture with all the other major players involved with GO3.

Aziraphale was still a soldier and accidentally got himself discorporated in his own magic circle in season one. He had a platoon waiting on him to start Armageddon, and he deserted them to go save the world with Crowley instead. Aziraphale is a deserter. I need everyone to remember that. He yeeted himself out of Heaven and sought out Crowley before even locating a body just to warn him about what was happening so they could try to save the world together.

I can't help but think of 1941 and that magician who had been arrested for being a deserter.

Aziraphale disobeyed orders. That took courage but it branded him as a traitor against Heaven. They tried to destroy him for it the same way Hell tried to destroy Crowley for his part in stopping the war.

Aziraphale and Job are the only characters we have seen interacting with God directly. Aziraphale has spoken to God before and he is determined to do so again.

Aziraphale knows Heaven is flawed, but he also knows it's supposed to be good. He wants it to be good. He does not like the way the system works and he wants to make a difference. (And I'm pretty sure he's also determined to talk to God without being intercepted by The Metatron.)

Since when is that a bad thing? I don't get it. And I've had this discussion before.

If you need to change the system by burning the old one to the ground, it's still change, and we don't know what Aziraphale has planned.

It seems to me that people just want to see Aziraphale fail because it would punish him for returning to Heaven instead of running off with Crowley.

Some of y'all take everything Aziraphale says or does and twist those things into malicious anti-Crowley actions because you think the only reason Aziraphale exists is to make Crowley happy, and if he isn't thinking only about Crowley then he's doing something wrong.

Aziraphale does not exist as a plot device to further Crowley's character. They come as a pair. They've been learning from each other for 6,000 years. Crowley challenges Aziraphale just as much as Aziraphale challenges him.

You can be mad at Aziraphale all you want, but villainizing him is gross. Defending Crowley does not mean you have to tear down and mischaracterize Aziraphale anymore than defending Aziraphale means you have to tear down Crowley (but I don't see that happen on nearly the same level it happens to Aziraphale). Stop painting Aziraphale as an abusive partner, for fuck sake.

Aziraphale knows there are flaws in the system. He wants to make a difference, and since he has seen that Gabriel can change, then maybe the whole system can. He has to at least try, and if he can succeed then maybe he and Crowley can stop hiding and finally be together without having to look over their shoulders all the time.

Why is that a bad thing? He's just as protective of Crowley as Crowley is of him!

But don't forget that Aziraphale's wing was covering Adam and Eve too. As much as a wants to protect Crowley, he has a moral imperative to keep humanity safe as well.

He sent Adam and Eve into the unknown with a flaming sword so they could protect themselves.

As much as he wants to be with Crowley, there are 8 billion people on Earth heading toward the Second Coming and Judgment Day. They'll work together to fight alongside humanity in the end. Aziraphale should not have to humiliate himself just to earn Crowley's forgiveness. That's a rancid notion.

The Resurrectionist was a whole ass moral dilemma for Aziraphale, which is why I brought up The Good Place earlier, but that's a post for a different time.

Aziraphale has his own motivations and they're just as important as Crowley's, and they don't have to be chalked up to Aziraphale being the bad guy. Weird, I know, but shades of grey.

"To the world."

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale defense squad #yeah i'm being bitchy #no i don't care if you're offended #no i'm not interested in your aziraphale hate #i'm not interested in hearing takes about aziraphale being toxic from people who can't even be objective #some of y'all need to watch the good place because you need a lesson in moral philosophy #we should be able to have discussions about the characters without gross takes calling aziraphale abusive #az and crowley approach everything from wildly different perspectives because of where they are #just admit y'all shit on az because he doesn't look or act like crowley #I'm so done with the shitty aziraphale takes #they aren't even interesting enough to debate #they're just annoying

[muddyorbsblr]

would've could've should've pt1

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: A careless comment from Thor calls into question the stability of your relationship with Loki

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ | mature themes; the slightest bit of steam toward the beginning; angst; Tony and Thor having a very much "bro" type attitude and not in the good way; hinting at Reader's emotional baggage; the slightest mention of human experimentation [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established but private/secret relationship; Reader's baggage will be explained further in part 2

There was something rather peaceful in the routine you and Loki had settled into when either of you came back from a mission. Decompressing the night before the debriefing care of Rogers that you took bets on how long this one would last. And whoever won would get to pick where to get takeout from on your next indoor date night.

Your last mission was particularly stressful, nearly losing a limb from triggering a booby trap while retrieving intel about potential human experimentation from a HYDRA base. The second Nat mentioned that little tidbit in passing while you were unpacking your equipment from the mission, the god left the common area, raiding the pantry for a selection of your favorite snacks, and queueing up one of your comfort movies.

The one about a woman that hit her head and found herself stranded in a romantic comedy only to realize that her best friend, the one that had been in front of her all this time, was her great love all along.

When you got to your apartment, Loki was already there with the movie ready to play on the screen, and he even went the extra step to open and plate the snacks on the coffee table in your living room for easier access. And the cherry on top of it all was that he brought over one of his sweaters for you to change into, something he'd been doing more and more ever since you mentioned how comfortable they were during one of your missions together where you'd shared a suite.

"You know, I'm pretty sure they're watching the same movie outside," you mentioned, speaking around the wafer stick you were munching on. "Nat just texted me that she has Netflix power considering how this mission got us stressed out to hell and back. Wanna just watch it outside with the rest of the guys?"

The god shook his head, pulling you closer to him. "If we join them outside, then I would be unable to do this." He tilted your chin up and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "And this is my favorite part," he mumbled against your skin before proceeding to give you a series of kisses, increasing with passion in each one.

Suddenly whatever was happening in the movie didn't matter to you anymore, an army of butterflies fluttering near violently at your stomach as he wrapped his arm around you and maneuvered your positions until you were straddling him on the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. He kept his hand on your waist, holding you steady while his other hand buried itself in your hair before he licked into your mouth, letting out a decadent sounding moan when your tongues met.

He moved his hand to your lower back, changing your positions once again so that your back was flat on the couch, and he hovered over you and between your legs. You leaned into his touch, losing yourself in his attentions, until his hand moved upward, cupping your breast. That was when you broke the kiss.

"I'm sorry," he panted, immediately moving his hand away once he saw the frantic, panicked look in your eyes. "I got carried away--"

"No, sweetie, I'm sorry," you insisted, placing your hands on his shoulders, and pulling yourself up slightly to kiss him, trying to reassure your boyfriend he did nothing wrong. "It's just…I want to be ready, really, I do. And I know it's frustrating for you it's just that…every time we take a step  in that direction something in me starts running and cowering in a corner, it's not fair to you that--"

"Please don't apologize, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for." He righted your positions on the couch, delicately stroking your hair and giving you a soft peck on your lips before he stood, offering you his hand. "I think we could both benefit from cooling off a bit. Would you like to join the others outside?"

Despite having offered it yourself just a few minutes earlier, your stomach dropped when the tables had turned, knowing that you'd put a stop to something that could have turned out completely mind-blowing and possibly even life changing. Only thing was, when you reached the peak of a relationship, that was it.

The only way forward was down.

"You go ahead," you told him, walking toward your bedroom. "I'll just change into my sweats first…so no one asks questions."

By some miracle, no one on the team had caught on yet that you two had started seeing each other and had been in a relationship for the better part of the year. And neither of you seemed to be itching to burst your little bubble of privacy quite yet, knowing that the second the team knew, Wanda and Nat would be down your throat with questions practically begging for every detail. And Thor would be doing much of the same for his brother.

At least that was the story you tried to tell yourself. It was better than what that little voice in your head tried to scream at you every time he didn't take the seat next to you. Or when he'd drop your hand and take a few steps back the second he heard someone rounding the corner.

Loki gave you a strained smile, starting to walk toward your front door. "I'll see you outside then." Before you could reach your bedroom, he called out to you. "I love you, little mortal."

You blinked back the tears that were threatening to come out, looking back at him with a contrived smile of your own. "I love you, too, Mischief."

A good few minutes passed before you exited your apartment, the movie paused on the TV and a rather lively discussion being had among your teammates. Something about Barnes' new girlfriend.

"Oh good you're here, jellybean, welcome to the circus," Tony greeted you, jutting his chin toward the empty seat next to Wanda. "Need your input on something."

Instead of taking the seat, you walked over to the bar to pour yourself a glass of wine. You had a feeling you were gonna need it. On your way there, you spotted Loki seated near his brother, giving you a minuscule smile and a tiny wave of his hand.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," you called out.

"Stark's trying to tell me the woman I'm seeing isn't all that interested in me because she doesn't want to spend the night," Bucky started. "Said she's just with me for the aesthetic of dating me, whatever backwards 21st Century nonsense that is. I'm trying to tell the rest of these horn dogs that maybe she's just not ready yet. Good things take time. Flowers need to blossom--"

"Sarge, don't ever say that line again, it's so cheesy you'll attract rats in here," you shot back, pointing your finger at the soldier before turning toward Stark. "That said though…I'm with Bucky on this one, Stark. Maybe she's just not ready yet I mean…not everyone's ready to drop trou and put out so easily, you know. How long have you been dating this girl anyways?" You turned back to Bucky as you asked the question.

"Three weeks? Give or take?"

"Dammit Stark, it's only been three weeks, give our boy some time." You made a show of facepalming before you picked up your glass, plopping down next to Wanda who immediately rested her head on your shoulder.

"They've been at this for the last ten minutes," she groaned. "Wake me when they put the movie back on." Meanwhile, you clocked Nat next to her, not so subtly massaging her temples in an attempt to calm herself down. You shared the feeling; this was such a common sense discussion it shouldn't have lasted thirty seconds.

"Well then perhaps you could provide some insight for another situation, Lady Y/N," Thor boomed from across the floor, swatting his brother's hand away when he tried to get the blond Asgardian to stop.

"Brother you really need not--"

"Nonsense. Lady Y/N seems knowledgeable on how timetables and relations between mortals work, perhaps she'll finally give the perspective I have been seeking."

Your boyfriend shot you a look, as if he was already embarrassed by what his brother was about to say, piquing your curiosity even more. "I'm all ears, Thunder. Ask away."

"My brother has been seeing a mortal woman for the better part of the last Midgardian year. My best estimate…eight moons," he began, your stomach once again dropping at the realization that he was about to ask your insight about…yourself. You gave him a motion to go on, placing your glass on the table to hide the way your hand had begun to shake. "And while it has been as you here on Midgard would say 'like pulling teeth' trying to get him to divulge any detail about her, something I have surmised is that she also seems unwilling to spend the night with him. Yet he claims they love each other."

"Yikes, tough break, Reindeer Games!" Tony winced. "My two cents? You're not just on the same boat with Barnes over here, you're the goddamn captain of the ship. Go on, jellybean, tell him."

"I-I…" you stuttered, your heart thundering in your chest from unwittingly having been placed on the proverbial hot seat. "Maybe she just…wants to be sure, you know? I mean…I don't know how y'all do it in Asgard but here, with some people, being intimate is…something m-more than physical."

You could see from where you sat that the raven-haired god's fingers were twitching, his leg bouncing as if he wanted to stand up and leave the room. You pretty much wanted out of this, too.

Thor waved off your explanation. "I completely disagree. That amount of time passed, I believe one should be sure lest she be wasting both of their time. Brother, much as I can tell you love this mortal, it is my expert opinion, which I believe will be backed by the men in this room, that your mortal woman does not love you. This is, as our genius friend Stark has stated earlier, all for the optics of having you at her arm."

It was getting impossible to breathe. How dare he say that about you right in your face like this? Thinking he knew everything there was to know about your relationship just because he was in one of his own?

"You know not the first thing about her, Brother," Loki hissed, speaking through his teeth as if he was readying himself to strike.

"I know enough," the blond Asgardian shot back dismissively. "You know I think the world of you, Brother, and after everything you've endured, you deserve every bit of happiness this universe will grant you." He clapped his hand on Loki's shoulder. "If this mortal shares not this sentiment, then perhaps your time is better spent elsewhere."

"He's right, Mischief," you choked out, your voice so small you were surprised it even traveled that far that it had everyone looking to you. "Maybe you are wasting your time with this one…you know, if she's making you wait so long." You stood up abruptly, making Wanda groan in protest when she nearly fell over to the spot you'd just vacated.

In what was probably your most poorly miscalculated decision for the night, you downed your wine in a single gulp, starting to walk back to your apartment.

"Hey where you going, jellybean, you just got here," Tony hollered from his seat. "Come on, I know talking about Frosty the Snowman's nonexistent sex life was a drag, how about we all drop it for now, I'll order some tacos and we can go back to grilling Manchie here."

"Or we could lay off either of us and grill someone else for a change?" Bucky groaned, throwing his human arm over his eyes as he turned his face to the ceiling.

"You know what, you are so right, let's talk about the big guy who has a lot to say about being the resident relationship expert." Stark turned to face Thor. "How is Lady Thunder lately? And how are you with the whole your old hammer chooses her over you thing?"

The conversation faded into a dulled roar in your ears as the wine begun to take what fleeting effect it would have on you, your pulse faintly thumping in your ears as you made your way back to your apartment.

You hadn't even been back two minutes before your door swung open again, the God of Mischief standing at your entryway looking a mix of concerned and distraught. "Darling, I completely apologize for my oaf of a brother, I had no idea he would--"

"It's okay, Loki," you cut him off, throwing your hands up as if to push away the conversation. "Maybe he's on to something, I mean you should be with someone who doesn't take forever and a day to be ready for something like this, maybe we should--"

In an instant, he stood inches away from you, placing his hands on your shoulders in a gentle but firm grasp. "Don't say another word, my love, please." He rubbed his hands up and down your arms in a soothing gesture; whether it was to soothe you or him was beyond you.

"You want more, I get that," you pressed on. "And I can't give that to you--"

"You are all that I want, precious mortal." He leaned in, pressing a desperate kiss to your lips before wrapping his arms around you. "I am already more than content that you've even granted me the honor to know who you are outside of our duties. This is all I need, to be able to love you as I have these past moons."

Tears began to fall from your eyes as your words weighed heavy on your tongue. "I'm sure there's someone out there more than willing to give you what I can't, it's selfish of me to keep you--"

"Stop, little mortal, I beg of you," he pleaded, repeatedly pressing his lips to your forehead. "Don't rid yourself of me like this. I don't care if there's someone else out there, they aren't you." He sat you both down back on the couch, cradling you against his chest as his hand rubbed up and down your back in soothing motions. "Please just try to put what my oaf of a brother said out of your mind. His opinion is entirely his own and it is one I do not share."

Your next question blurted out without much resistance. "Loki what if I never become ready? What if you really are wasting your time with me, you shouldn't--"

"Any time I spend with you, regardless of how it is spent, is never a waste," he whispered, stroking your face as he held your gaze. "If ever you decide to share that part of yourself with me, it will be an honor that I will cherish for the rest of my days, but I will never be the one to place pressure on you to move yourself at a pace you're uncomfortable with."

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, prompting him to press a kiss to your temple when you sniffled from the tears you were trying and failing to hold back. "I do love you," you mumbled against him. "You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, my darling mortal." He pressed his cheek against yours, taking deep breaths to calm himself after the scare your words from earlier gave him. He wanted to punch his brother clean across the jaw for jeopardizing his happiness with his careless words, and the stabbing pain it put him through seeing how deeply that opinion had cut you.

He started moving toward your bedroom, carrying you in his arms bridal style. Mostly in refusal to let you go even for a fraction of a moment.

"What're you doing?" you mumbled, making a motion to move out of his arms.

"We're going to bed, darling. Just to sleep, nothing more, I swear."

"Hmph…" you shook your head, the motion making the tip of your nose nuzzle his neck in a slight tickling sensation. "Maybe…maybe you should stay at your place tonight." Your voice was so small, so unsure of what you'd just said. The god stopped in his tracks, his body going rigid and making you immediately regret your words.

"Do you want me to leave, dear heart?" he choked out, his heart at war with himself as it protested against him putting you back down on your feet.

"No," you admitted, lifting your head from his shoulder and showing him the tears that had begun to redden your eyes. "I want you to stay, I'll always want you to stay, I just don't…" Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, almost sounding like a hiccup. "I don't want you to be frustrated because of me--"

"I'm not," he reassured you, resting his forehead on yours. "Being with you like this is more than enough for me. I need you to know this, my darling."

He laid you down on your bed before his clothes changed into his own loungewear set with a wash of his green magic, settling under the covers next to you and pulling you into his arms.

"Promise me something, Mischief?"

"Anything."

"If…and when…the time comes that you get tired of waiting? And you want to be with someone else--"

"Little mortal, not another word." He tightened his hold on you, as if he couldn't hold you close enough. "Please, my love, let's just retire for the night."

"Just let me get this out," you insisted. "Let me say my piece and I'll never mention it again. Okay?"

He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Okay."

"If you want to be with someone else, just promise you'll tell me and leave me first? I don't wanna find out waking up one morning and seeing someone else with her arms around you and just waving it around for everyone to see." Your voice dwindled and wavered into barely a whisper, your arm tightening around his midsection, a part of you already refusing to give him up even if the day were to come.

"That will never happen," he told you. "Why would I ever wish to leave you?"

"Just--Just promise me anyway. Please?"

"Look at me, little mortal." He traced along your jaw with his finger, tilting your chin up so he could see your eyes. The sight of the genuine fear of that precise outcome reflected in your expression knocked nearly all of the air from the god's lungs. "On the remotest chance of that happening, I promise I will never do wrong by you. But I want nothing more than for you rest assured that I will never wish to be with another.

"Perhaps one day you'll believe it. But I will gladly spend my days proving my devotion to you. This…This I will gladly swear to you. On whatever semblance of a soul I have left." He brushed the tip of his nose against yours before pressing a tender kiss to the same spot. "I love you, my darling Y/N."

You finally settled in his embrace, resting your head on his chest as you began to let your breathing even out. "I love you, too, Loki."

Just the thought of history repeating itself one day had your blood going cold, feeling as if your very bones were shaking from the images your mind conjured of the inevitable day that Loki would leave you. Somewhere deep inside you knew it was ridiculous for you to even think that your boyfriend was anywhere even near capable of putting you through what he had all those years ago.

But that was the thing about fear. Sometimes it was rational, like jumping out of the Quinjet and having a passing scare that your parachute had a hole in it. And other times it was outright absurd. Like now. Thinking that in the morning after you first had sex, the god would have realized there wasn't anything worth spending more time with. That he'd have had his fill of you and now it was time to move on to better prospects.

It didn't help, either, that your overly cautious mind was yelling that the signs were all there. That it could tell you exactly where this was headed because of the dropped hands. The refusal to even sit near each other. The barely there acknowledgement when you were even in the same room together. Everything that had happened before with him…felt like a mirror image of what was happening now. With Loki.

And you didn't have it in you to tell him that his desire for privacy was slowly and quite surely crushing you.

A/N: Starting off another story from the request pile! This is going to have 3 parts, where both parts 1 and 2 will deliver on the more angsty part and part 3 will be the comfort/fluff. I know you asked for "90% angst", Anon, but hopefully 10k words worth of angst will do it…because part 2 is 6.5k words long 😳👀

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

#loki angst #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

[mysicklove]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

DAY 22: A/B/O

With: Isagi Yoichi

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Omega/bottom Isagi, Top/Alpha/Gn reader, omegaverse stuff (slick, claiming, scenting, etc.), isagi is in heat, readers pp could be read as strap or dick, marking/biting, slight blood, possesive behavior, instincts and stuff, isagi lowkey being feral

A/N: i like this one. and dont ask me why i know so much about a/b/o dynamics.'

Isagi was completely fine with being an omega. Sure, in the beginning he thought it may affect his soccer career, but as he grew and matured, he realized that it wasn't a problem anymore. Scent blockers and suppressants were a gift from the gods, and key factor of how he went pro. Without them he didn't know where he would be.

But, it led to an addiction. Constantly hiding his scent, hoping people may mistake him for being a beta so he doesn't have to deal with the slander omegas get on the field. And without heats he doesn't have to miss practice. Hence, every morning he puts a scent blocker sticker on his neck and wrist, and the second he feels a little amiss, he pops a heat suppressant. And he lived fine.

Except then you came into his life. An alpha. 

Heats are supposed to be spent with you. His body was begging him to spend it with someone, but he shuts it down immediately. Its unhealthy, and he knows it. A doctor has reminded him for years now, but he brushed it aside. 

The two of you had fought about it for about a year now. It was damaging his body, but he was too deep in his soccer career to sacrifice those multiple weeks of the year. You couldn't force him to do it, but every time you saw him pop that pill, and instinctual dread flooded your veins.

He hasn't had a real heat in five years. More than twice longer than what is considered “unhealthy” for an omega. It means when he finally does fall into it, its bound to be painful, and long lasting. Not only that, but his instincts are supposed to be heightened more than usual, so he doesn't know what he will say or do once he goes into it again.

But you finally convinced him spend it with you. He has been hinting for months now that he wanted you to mark him, but when he finally bluntly asked you to claim him, you said you would only do it during his heat. He agreed with much hesitancy.

It's a dread to think about, and honestly he is a little scared. But he promised you he would do it. He (very reluctantly) called off two weeks from soccer practice during off season, when he felt his pre-heat begin to creep up on him. 

So, here he is. Going to have his first heat in five years. 

The two of you stayed at his place. It was probably better to be at a spot he is comfortable with after all. The days before it weren't too bad, you forced him to put away the scent blockers for a couple of days, so the house smelled strongly of him. He went out of his way to scent as many things as possible, growing anxious as the days went by. He also built a nest on the space next to his bed, covered in blankets, pillows, and too many items from your dirty hamper. He was antsy during this time, finding himself clinging to you, and following you around the house. It was cute honestly, watching him have a slight pout while he grips onto your hand.

His body temperature started to pick up by the third day of his preheat. He started wearing less clothing, and you hand fed frozen fruit to him, hoping to cool him off just a little. He tosses and turns in the night, whining out for you to hold him, comfort him, make the strange feeling stop. It was so confusing and he hated it.

And finally after four days, he experienced his first heat since he was a teenager. It was in the middle of the night, the two of you in his nest, and you were fast asleep when he awoke. Every inch of his body ached, and he was panting. Sweat dripped down his temple, and he could feel slick stain his boxers. It made him groan in frustration, but he couldn't do anything about it because he was so horny.

Everything in him screamed for him to get filled, and as quickly as possible. He doesn't even think about it, tearing off his shirt and boxers. His now naked body trembles and he pants into the back of his hand, before turning to your sleeping form. He quickly finds himself scampering over to you, shaking you awake.

You turn to him with a groan, eyes blinking in the darkness to try to adjust themselves. “Yoichi?” You question, voice hoarse from sleep.

He basically tackles you, collapsing his entire body onto yours, and burying his face into your neck, scenting it quickly and desperately. “It’s h-here–dont know what to do. H-Help. Hurts. It hurts. Make it stop!”

You snap awake in an instant, resting your hand on the back of his head. He straddles your leg, beginning to hump at it. You croon at him, the sound low and comforting, hoping to calm him down just slightly. “What do you need me to do, Yoichi?”

He shakes his head back and forth in your neck. “I don't know! J-Just touch me. Please, alpha!” 

You cup the back of his head, letting him rest in your neck, while you reach to grab his toy bag the two of you packed just a couple days earlier. You flick on the lamp on your nightstand and he glances at the bag in your hand, letting out a small growl and nipping at your skin.

You flinch, and he continues to growl, low, not threatening, but annoyed. “Don't want the toys. Touch me,” Isagi hisses, grinding his cock onto your leg.

“Feisty omega,” You murmur, setting the bag on the other side of the nest, and moving to reach behind him.

He gulps at the words, feeling bad already. His hormones are all out of wack, and he can't seem to think straight. He nuzzles into your neck and purrs, lifting his hips up to meet your fingers. 

You use a finger to prod at his entrance, eyes slightly widening at the feeling. “Wow love, you are so wet. You're dripping all over your legs and the pillows,” You murmur in astonishment, dragging your finger around the hole.

He whines in embarrassment, cheeks flushed from his heat, and now from humilation. “D-Dont know why. I woke up and it hasn't stopped,” he complains, voice low and gruff. You continue to pet his hair, trying to comfort him.

You hum in response, pressing your other finger into his hole. He shivers at the feeling, clinging onto you in the darkness. When it slips in easier than usual, you prod another one, finding it just as easy to slip in. “Fuck Yoichi, you’re just begging to be fucked aren’t you. Taking it so easy.”

His back is arched by now, pressing into the fingers that are now scissoring him. “More. ‘ts not enough. Please, please. I need more, alpha!” He cries, both sides of him now leaking. His face is flushed, and his whole body feels like its on fire.

You shush his mewls, letting out a soothing scent and he moans into your neck. “Alright, alright. I’m going to make you feel good, relax,” you whisper, trying to pull yourself a way for minute to prepare yourself. He doesn't let you go far, arms wrapping around your entire body, breathing into your skin. The scent seems to make him feel grounded, and it's what he desperately needs right now.

“Here, lay down for me,” You encourage, trying to pull him off just for a second so that you can line yourself up with him. He doesnt seem to listen, shaking his head and panting. Sweat beads at his temples, and he's already beginning to beg again, but you push him to the bed, pinning his hands up for a moment while you press the tip into him.

He groans at the feeling, already borderline oversensitive. “Hold me. Please. Hold me, ‘s hot. I can't–”

You kiss his neck, pressing further inside of him, and his eyes widen, gasping at the feeling. His nails dig into your back and you try not to hiss out, continuing forward till you bottom out in him. Slick continues to leak out and onto the nest, but you don't say anything, afraid of embarrassing him.

But you couldnt help but notice the way his back arches, and the wet feeling now on the both of your stomachs. His breaths are shaky and his hold on you is weak. It gives you a chance to pull away for a second, glancing at the cum spread between the two of you. 

He covers his face with his hand, blushing profusely. “I'm sorry. Don't know what happened. J-Just felt…really good,” He warbles, not daring to look at you, but feeling himself begin to grow hard again. 

You giggle at him, planting a soft kiss to his lips. “S’alright. So cute, Yoichi. Wanna take a break then?”

His eyes are back onto you in an instant, wide and panicking. “N-No! You can't stop, please keep going!” He begs, lifting his hips to grind his cock on your stomach in a plea.

You know it's the heat talking, so you don't dare to tease him, afraid of pissing him off. So you abide by your omegas command.

“Fuckkkk,” He breathes, eyes rolling back when you start to pick up the pace. You grip at the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss, and thrusting forward. His legs wrap around your waist, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer. Your thrusts are hard, short, and make a lewd slapping noise from the skin to skin contact. 

Isagi pulls away from the kiss, eyes cloudy, and mouth slightly swollen from the attention. “Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha,” He chants, mewling at every thrust, while slick drips down his thigh.. 

You kiss his cheek, humming to him in question. “Right here. I'm here. Doing so well. Such a pretty omega,” You coo in response, and the effects are immediate. He purrs at your voice, nuzzling into your neck and scenting you with a small fucked out grin.

“Mark me.”

You pause your movements, eyes flashing to his blue ones. He whines at the interruption, grabbing at your hips to pull you in closer. “Right now? It's so early,” You reason, growing dizzy off his warm scent.

It turns sour in an instant. “Y-You dont want me?”

He was being unreasonable, but that was the heat talking. His brain wasn't in the right place, and the second you didn't agree, it hurt. Way more than it should have. Tears prick at his eyes, and he begins to push you away, feeling gross with himself.

You don't let him go far, releasing a calming scent, and crooning to him. “Not what I meant. Relax, omega. It's okay, you're okay. I'll mark you, will that make you feel better?”

He clings onto you immediately, scent light again. “Please please please. Wanna be yours. Your omega. Please bite me!” 

You groan, grabbing his hips and forcing him back down onto the length. He gasps, trembling, but now baring his neck to you. 

“You're going to be the death of me, Yoichi,” You sigh, not liking how much control he has over you. Between the scent and his lewd words, which would never come out of his mouth if he wasn't in heat, it was hard to stay present in the moment.

“Please please please,” he cries, grabbing your hair  and forcing you toward his very own neck. You glance at him one last time, looking at his glassy eyes, and flushed cheeks. He nods at you, a whine slipping past his lips. 

You take one last deep breath, inhaling your lovers intoxicating scent and bury your teeth into his neck. He yelps, gripping onto your hair as tears drip down his cheeks. But his back arches, and hes cumming again from the action. His head spins as he feels your tongue lick at the wound, crooning out apologies for the pain.

Your thrusts have slowed down slightly, but they are deeper, harder. After cumming two times Isagi feels himself grow tired, weaker, but every cell in his body is screaming at him to go again and again. Till he passes out, if he must. 

“You alright? My omega…All mine,” You whisper, brushing away his sweaty bangs. He feels light headed, absolutely amazed at the feeling of being claimed after all this time and your words, but frustrated from your bare neck. It's not fair.

A possessive nature takes over him, and he lets out a small growl. You raise your eyebrows at him, confused by the sudden aggression. He was always pretty temperamental, but you granted his wish, and were fucking him, what more could he need?

A pair of canines dig into your neck before you could even process his movements. It makes you wince, hissing out and shivering as you feel his tongue lick over the wound. “N-No warning?” You half complain, not minding the feeling of being marked by him.

He doesnt seem to be listening, heat clouding all coherent thoughts. “My alpha. Mhmmm. Mine, mine, mine.”

“Possessive little thing. S-Supposed to be my line,” You laugh at him lightly, and he pulls away for the first time tonight, maneuvering you until he is sitting on your lap, and beginning to raise himself up and down. Two hands fall on your stomach to help steady himself as he begins to grind on the length, head falling backward as he pants at the ceiling.

His movements are frantic, desperate even, as if he was afraid he would never get a chance to cum again. His own cum on his stomach is beginning to dry up, but he doesn't seem to mind. His cock flops back and forth at his movements, and sweat drips down his neck. His whole body seems to be a pinkish shade, covered in sweat. It makes you slightly worried, but knowing him, if you force him to stop so that you can check on him, he may try to kill you.

He cums again without much warning, his fingers curling up and eyes rolling backward. The stream is weaker, dripping pathetically down his cock. His whole body trembles and he collapses forward onto you, pawing at you to hold him again.

You grab water from the nightstand and basically force it down his throat, the excess dripping down his chin and onto your chest. He gulps it down without much complaint, staring at you with lidded eyes the entirety of it. “Lets take a break,” You mumble, caressing his cheek and wiping away the water.

He purrs into your touch, and realigns himself up again, a drunken smile on his face. “Not a chance, alpha,” Isagi says, sinking onto the length to try to chase his fourth orgasm that night. 

The two of you get little sleep, and you awoke to him grinding on your leg, and biting at your ear, begging you to make him feel good again, full again. But even in your exhausted state, you didn't mind too much, because how could you say no to your precious omega? 

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#mello.writes #Barkforme! #Kinktober 2023 #dom! reader #dom reader #sub isagi #a/b/o #sub isagi yoichi #isagi smut #isagi x reader #reader insert #x reader #isagi yoichi smut #bllk smut #bllk x reader smut #blk x reader #yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi x you

[love-hatred-stuff]

»envious bucky«

genre: if u know me, u know it’s gon’ be angst, bestfriend/soulmate!bucky

warnings: drinking ig, mentions of being interested in another man (but not really), immensely jealous bucky, who doesn’t know how to process that feeling (he’s being mean), mentions of toxic ex

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

»I don’t like him.« Bucky grumbled under his breath.

You shoot him a look. »Yeah, but I do, darling.« Giving him a strict smile.

»Why? He’s like not even your type.« He sighs in frustration.

Your brows raise at that, looking almost offended.

»What would you know about my type?« You challenged.

The bar you’re sitting in is crowded and busy, much to Bucky’s dismay. But he stays of course, for you. As though it’s different than usual. You didn’t look at him much today, although you’re sitting right beside him, -barely touching each other’s knees, but the contact is there. You two live in the same apartment block and are used to seeing each other every day of the week.

He has a bigger problem with not having your full and honest attention than he would like to admit. You’ve been looking the opposite direction the moment you’ve found yourself these seats. Bucky hates it, because he can see what –or rather who– you’re stalking from his point of view –just as perfect as you can. It’s this french guy Gabriel. He’s new to town and new to your friend group now as well. Nat had brought him with her a couple weeks ago and everyone loved him. Well, except Bucky. But he wasn’t someone who particularly enjoyed meeting new people, everyone knew that. So they weren’t suspicious about it.

It’s not that he didn’t like the guy in general, it’s that you liked him. And every time Gabriel came up to you and started speaking french (because you apparently loved it when he spoke his native language) your eyes started to form into hearts and all those giggles and laughs wouldn’t stop flowing. God, James hoped he would survive tonight without lashing out on you or Mr. “I’m french and handsome so I’m going to steal your girl”.

»I know you prefer rough guys. You don’t like a baby face with a smooth haircut. You don’t like anyone ever actually. But especially not this kind of guy.« Bucky tries to wear his grin proudly, but he’s questioning himself when he sees your expression.

»Oh, is that so? Thanks for reminding me, Mr. Barnes.« You scoff and turn yourself away from him once again. Bucky feels crap after that reaction. He didn’t intend to make you upset.

»No- You know how I mean it, Y/n.« You ignore him and continue to look for your knew found bestie.

Bucky sighs in defeat.

»Do you actually like him?«

He didn’t want an answer to that question if it was a „yes“. So he felt like punching himself realizing what he’d done.

»Bucky, quit it? Please? I’m not talking to you about this.« You brushed him off, annoyed by his demeanor.

He breathed out deeply, looking at you and wishing once again, he would be the one you’re looking at the way you’re watching Gabriel learning billiards right now.

This never happened before. That’s why he was so determined to remind you that you don’t like anyone but him. To remind you you’re his. Except, you’re not. You never were. And realizing that made him physically feel sick to the stomach. He didn’t just not like the idea of you finding something in Gabriel, Bucky depended on you. If you were gonna fall in love with someone else, who would be there to take care of his broken soul? A soul only you had the capability of healing.

It was when you touched his shoulder and slowly gripped your hand around his bicep, that he came back to earth.

»Barnes? Baby, are you okay? You’ve been staring into space for the last ten minutes.« He looked at you, studying your facial expression. You were worried.

Although the nickname and your touch gave him comfort, he still felt like vomiting all over the place. His chest so tight, he struggled to breath normally, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

»I think I’ll head home. Had enough for the night, just feel tired, that’s all.« He tried convincing you with a exhausted smile hanging on his lips.

You figured it out in about five seconds. He never looked that crushed around his friends and you. You knew it had upset him what you said earlier, but you realized it too late. Preoccupied with thoughts of another man.

You mentally slapped yourself. You should’ve been more sensitive about it. Everyone knew how protective Bucky was over you. You suspected why. But you could never know to which extent his love went for you. Bucky himself couldn’t even form it into words, how important you were to him.

»Okay, I’m just gonna inform everyone that we’re leaving. Wait here for me.« You gently squeezed his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.

You were about to go do that but Bucky stopped you.

»Hey, no. You don’t have to go with me. Let Sam walk you home later. I’ll be fine.« His voice sounded almost strangled. So sharp and raspy. You could tell, something wasn’t right.

»Buck, I insist. You don’t look well. Let me take you home, please?«

It irritated him immensely how you went from scoffing at him earlier to wanting to take care of him now.

»I think you’d rather go sit beside Gabriel over there and tell him fancy things about yourself. You don’t have to act like you’re more interested in taking me home than staying here and spending time with him.« You were baffled by his brutal honesty.

He was often like that with others, but never with you. His gentle tone and careful, loving words were only meant for you. Until now it seemed.

Bucky studied your face once again and he could feel the hurt and confusion through your eyes, not making his already heavy heart any lighter.

»W-what are you saying?« You felt the air getting thicker inside your lungs.

»Oh please. You’ve been ogling that man since the moment we walked into this place. Why don’t you just go there? Maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll even let him take you to bed.«

All that air made it’s way out of your system again and you stopped breathing for a moment.

Bucky’s eyes were telling a different story, but what he’d just said to you made you grow cold.

»Fuck you.« Was the only thing you were able to breath out, before snatching your coat and making your way out of this bar and onto the streets. Right now, you just wanted to wrap yourself in your sheets and forget his dumb face.

Barnes was not fast enough to get a hold of you and apologize. He realized it was the most stupid thing to say to you. It was just that he felt so jealous and hurt, his mind acted on instinct and wanted to hurt you back. Which obviously worked a little too well.

What was he expecting though, when he hit right inside your weakest part? The people who knew you well enough, had heard about your ex. And what he had done to still influence your decisions to this day. It was a long story, but one thing was for sure; you’ve never trusted anyone else with your heart (or body) since then. Only Bucky. But it looked like not even he deserved it.

…

»Fuck!« He punched the concrete wall of the building he was standing next to –leaving a hole– after landing on your voicemail once again for the nth time.

He felt horrible. Not being able to reach you. Not knowing where you were. Not being able beg you for forgiveness. And worst of all; not knowing what to do without you.

~

Pt.2

Masterlist

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky moodboards

[empresskylo]

Hii:) i Hope you’re doing well. I was wondering if you could write some headcannons for König (some being nfsw if you’re comfortable with that).:))

some of these headcanons specifically mention reader being afab fyi

♡ he stares… a lot. it’s how you first realized he was interested in you. you’d feel his gaze on you constantly, following you around the room. you were a bit frustrated he wouldn’t come up and say anything though. so you had to make the first move. “can i help you könig?” “hm?” “you’ve been eye fucking me all night. is there something on your mind?” my god he would turn bright red.

♡ König takes awhile to show his face fully to you, ashamed of his scars.

♡ You place soft kissed all over his face, making his eyes flutter. He instantly wishes he had let you see under his mask a long time ago.

♡ “You like this?” he asked you, gesturing to his face. You shook your head making König’s brows lower for a split second. “No. I love it,” you said before stroking his jaw, feeling his stubble on your finger pads. Your hand finding it’s way to the back of his head, your fingers running through his hair, giving him a scratch. König moans in his throat from the pleasure of being touched so delicately.

♡ He’s not the best with words, so he shows his affection through touch. He always seems to be reaching out to you, wanting you intertwine your fingers, rest a hand on your knee, play with strands of your hair, or rest his palm on your lower back. he likes to wrap his arms around you, having to hunch over quite a bit to do so.

♡ He also likes to pick you up often, and he does so with ease. He’ll hold you up so you’re in-line with him, letting you peal his mask up, and kissing you. Then he plops you back down and pats your head, making you look up at him lovingly.

♡ He’s the one to tell you he loves you first. It’s sudden and out of the blue. Likely after a long time of not saying anything, just sitting in comfortable silence. Then suddenly, “I love you.” You don’t even comprehend it right away. By the time you look up at him, he’s gone.

♡ It takes time for you to get him to feel comfortable opening up, but you never pressure him. you slowly let him unravel before you, until he trusts you with his entire being. he definitely becomes a chatter box once he reaches that point. he loves talking and telling jokes and making you laugh.

♡ always dramatic. he likes to say your name loudly when he sees you, walking over to you with big strides. then lifts you up under your armpits while you stare at him, pretending to be annoyed.

♡ kisses the top of your head all the time. the top of your head is just at the perfect height for him to kiss.

♡ he blushes easily. and it’s pretty visible on his skin. just silly little remarks will make he flustered. you like making him act that way. calling him handsome or something even fluffier (like cupcake—you like the juxtaposition) has him going red.

♡ always makes you a coffee/tea when he gets himself one. he’ll just randomly hand you a hot tea and you look up at him a bit confused. he wanted to make himself one and if he makes one, he always makes another for you.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖

♡ kisses! he loves to give you kisses. he likes to kiss you from head to toe. and he likes when you place soft little smooches on his bare chest, his biceps, his neck, just anywhere really. it’s his favorite thing. he lives for you kisses. it makes him feel gentle and loved.

♡ he’s definitely a passionate lover and usually prefers to take his time and go slow with you. every once in awhile he just rips your clothes off and fucks you senseless, but usually he’s pretty gentle.

♡ he has a praise kink!! omg does he love when you praise him. he always tries to get you to keep talking during sex. he wants to hear all your babbling about how perfect he is, how good he feels inside you, how you’re his, and only his.

♡ and he likes to praise you in return. he always lets you know he’s enjoying himself. “fuck, that feels so good” “god, you’re so perfect” “you’re so tight” “you look so pretty like this” “keep doing that please” “look at me, i love seeing your pretty eyes” “i’m not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that”

♡ likes when you say you’re all his. usually comes when you finally mutter it. “tell me you’re mine” “god, köing, im yours. only yours.”

♡ he likes to hoist you up into his arms and fuck you against the wall. his arm gripped tightly around your waist. likes when you’re in his arms. he always wants your bodies flush against each other when you fuck. he wants to feel and hear everything.

♡ he definitely has a bit of a size kink. not too much, he’s actually kind of self conscious of how large he is. but he loves how much smaller you look when he towers over you. it’s why he loves picking you up, or bending over to kiss you. loves filling you up and hearing you whimper at how big he is. watching you gasp and claw at his back as he slowly bottoms out.

♡ this man is a devoted pussy eater. he loves going down on you. like LOVES it. he wants to hear all the noises you make for him. he enjoys making you come at least once before he fucks you, and it’s usually from him eating you out. “you taste fucking fantastic, love.” he can get off just from pleasing you. if you have to be quick, he lets you sit in his face, his cock in his hand, and he comes at the same time as you.

♡ he loves blowjobs. idk some guys just like them more than others and könig really likes them. just something about you on your knees, looking up at him has him swooning. legit withers beneath you as you suck the life from him. he likes to finish inside you though and he has to tell you to slow down so he can fuck you before he comes (but you don’t always let him), “w-wait, slow d-down, baby. i’m not g-gonna la—fuck—“

♡ though he’s shy and reserved, he is a vanilla dom who lives to please you. enjoys being the one in control. likes to have the power while you whine under him. definitely not into BDSM tho. he doesn’t like the idea of hurting his partner. but he doesn’t mind if you choke him a little (; and he’ll choke you if you ask, but he prefers just resting his hand on your throat and not actually putting any pressure on it.

#konig #könig #headcanon #headcanons #konig headcanons #konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig mw2 #konig fluff #könig smut

[bwabys-scenarios]

If you haven't already, I'd love it if you could elaborate on perv!Kurapika 🤭

Omg gladly 👀

warnings: general perv behavior, panty/vibrator stealing, peeping tom, masturbation

So Kurapika is generally seen as a sweet, polite man. He doesn’t seem to have much interest in anything romantic or sexual. But god can looks be deceiving.

So you and Kurapika are friends, maybe took the Hunter exam together with him and the other 3. You’re sweet, motherly towards Killua and Gon, and have a soft figure.

At first, Kurapika doesn’t realize he has feelings for you, and even if he did he wouldn’t act on them in the beginning. He’s a little frustrated, he has a mission to complete and he can’t let his feelings get in the way.

It’s when his little crush turns into sexual desire that he gets really pissed. Why are you so cute? Why did you wear that shirt skirt when meeting him today? The wind blew and he saw your underwear, now he can’t stop thinking about that moment.

They were just a pair of white cotton panties, so why can’t he get the image of your ass out of his mind? He is a little perturbed with how hard he gets the next time he sees you and you’re wearing a dress with a revealing neckline. You even joking tell him your eyes up here, which makes the blonde turn red in embarrassment.

You don’t often catch him staring. When you do, your brush it off. He isn’t talkative, so you assume he’s just staring off into space.

Oh that isn’t true at all. He watches you like a hawk, catching anything that could be remotely seen as lewd. Your vanilla ice cream dripping down your chin, your boobs bouncing when you run to meet him, your nipples getting hard through your shirt the one time he showed out of nowhere in the middle of the night, giving you no time to put on a bra.

Your house becomes the closest place to a home to him. He knows the layout by heart. The kitchen, living room, bathroom, your room. He stays over often after a lengthy mission, usually up to a month. When you’re gone, he’ll hesitantly sneak into your room and peek into your drawers.

If you have any sex toys hidden, he’ll turn red and pick them up, sniffing them slightly. He’ll be disappointed to know they weren’t freshly used, but he’ll still pocket one of your vibrators to play with later. After all, you have several.

He steals a few pairs of panties, some that you won’t miss. He prefers the more mundane looking ones, your white cotton panties being his favorite. They’re the first pair he saw, so they’re his now. Every once in a while he’ll take one of your favorite pairs, but he’ll always return those!! They may be a little… used tho

He’ll cuddle up beneath your blankets, taking in your scent with deep breaths. A sweet moan will leave his mouth as he dips his hands under the waistband of his boxers, stroking his cock. Your sheets smell just like you, and he wishes more than anything that it was your hand on his dick and not his.

He learns your schedule, knowing exactly when you like to take showers. Kurapika will wait outside your bathroom door until he hears the water turn off and the shower curtain open, then he’ll bust in, acting nonchalant. Once you notice he’s there he’ll act surprised and flustered, hiding his eyes(but not before he gets a good luck at your naked form). “Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here.”

Kurapika usually sleeps on your couch. He’ll stay up late, listening to you move around in your room. Once he hears the distinct sound of buzzing or soft moans he inches towards your door, hand in his pants. You whine out his name, and that makes him FERAL. He’ll wait until you’re about to orgasm before knocking on the door. After a moment he’ll open it, seeing the hands between your legs stiffen and your eyes go wide with embarrassment.

“K-Kurapika! What are you doing in here?”

You’ll try your best to hide yourself but he’s seen everything. You’re mortified, he’s creaming in his pants.

“My apologies, I thought I heard you call my name…”

If he’s feeling a little confident he’ll lean against the doorway with an innocent look, maybe even offer to help you out.

Kurapika is a perv but not a very confident one. He’s quite embarrassed his body reacts the way it does, and would probably die if you ever found out. Though there is a fantasy he has of you finding out and really liking how much he wants you…

He has a lot of fantasies about you, mostly about getting your pregnant or waking up to you jerking him off. He will not make a move though, he already is embarrassed enough of these feelings, I don’t think he could take rejection.

Anyways, if you two were to enter a relationship, his tendencies will only become more intense. Now that he doesn’t have to hide it, you’ll find pairs of you panties in the bottom of the hamper full of cum. You’ll wake up to him grinding against your ass, sleepily lifting his hand up your shirt to grab your boobs.

Instead of walking in on you showering, he’ll join you in the shower. His touch is innocent, combing through your hair and helping you wash your back, but it’s lingering. Soon enough you’ll feel something hard pressing against your back, and he’ll whine about how cute you are. “Could you help me out, sweetheart?”

You’ll never have to question how much Kurapika wants you, because he’ll tell AND show you.

Kurapika is surprisingly horny, with high stamina.

Honestly I could go on and on. He’s so….😩😩😩❤️

#x reader #anime x reader #headcanon #reader insert #requests open #smut requests #hxh imagines #hxh x reader #hxh illumi #hxh kurapika #kurapika x reader #kurapika x y/n #kurapika #hunter x hunter headcanons #hunter xhunter #hxh smut #smut fanfiction #smut hcs #perv!kurapika #anime x chubby reader #chubby reader #chubby!reader #hxh headcanons #headcanons #kurapika hcs

[cantalouupe]

having thots…..of cockwarming puppy luc……perhaps as a punishment…..

so sorry for this, it is not great but i wanted to post something and i've been eyeing up this ask since it was first sent to me </3

if there are mistakes i am sorry

nsfw!!! puppyboy!diluc x gn!reader

cockwarming, "punishments", diluc has ears and a tail and is referred to as a "hybrid" once, PUPPY DILUC

It was a little cruel, maybe. The tight crushing heat, enveloping him in a warm, wet cocoon that set his body temperature perilously high—gods, he wouldn’t accidentally set anything on fire, would he? He always feels like he has no control over himself when he’s with you, brain gone haywire like a computer being reprogrammed; or worse, like a virus, taking over the entire system and destroying everything, devolving until all that was left was you. 

He’s impatient, always in haste to get moving, to get off. You were surprised he’s lasted as long as he had. Usually, he would be ceaseless in his squirming and whining, asking you over and over if he could have you the way he wanted. Today, he seemed caught up in the current situation, sitting hard and still beneath you, not speaking until you deliberately shifted atop him, jostling him inside slightly.  

“Please,” he begs, “let me.” 

“Not yet, Diluc.” 

The tone of his voice twists into something frustrated, hands balling into fists, kept uselessly by his sides. You warned him when this had begun, a tsked “no touching” when he’d try to mold his hands against the smooth curve of your body. As touchy as he was, you note his restraint in not lifting his hands above his thighs, and mentally praise him, almost going to press your own hand against his face, touch his soft ears atop his head, and tell him how good he was being—no, there would be another time for that.  

Still, you can’t help but admire him. His obedience was something you reveled in; knowing someone as big and powerful as he is, willing and eager to wait for your permission, work for your rewards, and live for your praise. He could overpower you quite easily, if he wanted to. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it be the last, but despite this piece of information you are both aware of, he chooses not to. The need to be good outweighed the limited, finite pleasure he could chase for him. Though he’d been a little slow, mind lagging behind from all the time spent with the constant pressure of you around him and perched atop him, he understands that there would be consequences, ‘worse’ than that which he was being subjected to now. An unsatisfying, incomplete pleasure is more favorable than none at all. 

You begin to grow suspicious of him, though, when time ticks sluggishly by and his begging does not evolve into something more desperate. With careful movements you shift again, and you hear it, the hitch in his uneven breath, like a gasp at the unexpected movement. He waits for it, anticipating each subtle gyration and adjustment and meeting it with a small noise. You realize, a little too excitedly for someone dishing out a punishment, that he was even more affected by this than you could have imagined—he would end up coming from this, from you punishing him, cockwarming him for minutes and minutes and minutes, until time felt endless and the place where the two of you joined together became a fuzzily comfortable sensation. You thought he’d cry, make his sweet, pathetic noises while trying to convince you to let him have his way, but he’d managed a way around it, phasing through the punishment as if it wasn’t one in the first place. 

“You’re not supposed to be getting off on this.” 

If he does hear, he doesn’t respond, too busy preparing himself for the inevitable fall that he craves so badly. He starts to tense, head tilting back ever so slightly, body arching and growing taught as the pleasure mounted and overwhelmed him. His mouth is parted a bit, just enough for him to pant out hot puffs of air while he struggled to breathe properly, and it entices you, pulling you in until your breaths were mingled. You shouldn’t kiss him, really, not when you’re supposed to be disciplining him—it wouldn’t matter much now, seeing as this is barely a punishment any longer—so you don’t, but you stay close, leaning into his space. 

He whimpers a strained “’m g’nna come,” and you know that it’s too late to stop it. Pulling yourself off him would only push him there faster, the side of you slick and stimulating on his sensitive cock after being still for so long.  

Despite your plans being foiled, you’re a little awed. With just the sensation from him being inside you, no movement at all, he managed to reach his end easily; almost as easily as if he was fucking you normally. You’re still while you watch it, but decide to lift up a smidge so he can grind up while he works through his slowly built orgasm, letting him have these ending moments to move. As he rides out the waves, filling you to the brim with everything he had to give, you belatedly realize that that you’ve practically rewarded him, let him get away with exactly what he wasn’t supposed to do throughout this. He would never learn at this rate, with the way each punishment turning into a reward for him, a newly developed kink that’d be crossed off the list of potential ideas of acts that could work as a form of discipline.  

#genshin smut #diluc diluc #puppy diluc #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smut

[anothermansjeans]

Read Your Mind

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

a/n: hello babes! i had originally posted this on patreon but wanted to share it with tumblr as well (ik i said it’d take like 2 weeks but here she is)! i’ll be writing the smut scenes to this fic and those will be patreon exclusives so if you wanna become a member it’s in my bio :)

wc: 1.1k

cw: implied sex, dry humping mention ?? i think that’s it!

inspiration: read your mind by sabrina carpenter

++

To say Y/N was frustrated would be an understatement. The constant mixed signals she has received from Aaron would make whiplash seem less painful, and she wasn’t being over dramatic.

When she first developed what was once a small crush— and is now almost what she thought was love— for her boss, she wouldn’t have ever thought he’d have even an ounce of any sort of romantic feelings for her, but after a drunken night out with the team and coming to the realization that they lived not even two buildings away from one another, confessions and heavy petting were exchanged. The next morning after mutual hungover groans were exchanged throughout the bullpen, Hotch called her into his office and made it very clear that lines were crossed… but also stated he had enjoyed himself. The confusion had begun there. Knowing he wasn’t typically one for physical contact, the feeling of him placing his hand onto her hand that rested on top of his desk sent a shock through her system. She enjoyed it, she really enjoyed it, but within thirty seconds of that contact he had also said how he needed her to get back to her desk— he needed to be alone to work.

Y/N brushed it off after that. Nothing was going to happen— Aaron liked what they did, but clearly didn’t want to pursue anything. That was understandable, and it would’ve stayed understandable if he kept up with the professionalism. Lack of said professionalism happened during a case in New York. Everyone had to share a room with someone except for one, and when it came down to pairing off Emily and JJ went off with each other, Derek and Spencer assumed they’d be the second pair, and Rossi claimed the solo room for himself. That left Y/N and Hotch with each other. It was very awkward for the first hour, but they slowly warmed up to each other again.

If anyone told Y/N that she would be having sex with Aaron that night she would’ve laughed in their face, and if anyone told her that they’d wake up in each other’s arms and bask in the warmth, she would’ve sent them to a mental institution. But it happened. After one too many glances they inevitably gave in, and that morning was a lot less awkward than the morning after their drunken dry humping.

But the cycle with Hotch continued after that. They’d share secret kisses, he’d tell her very sternly to get to work. They would spend the night with each other, he’d say they shouldn’t see each other for a while just to call her in the next night or two. At this point, she figured he was lonely but didn’t want to commit. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could play this game with him, and she would continue to mull it over in the early hours at the office before anyone else was there, stirring her coffee in the kitchenette until she felt a strong pair of hands touch her waist.

“I miss you.”

His voice was raspy, like he woke up not too long ago and just came in. She knew his statement was referring to the small break in seeing each other he had suggested, and the thought of it made her upset, causing her to place her coffee on the counter and turn around, crossing her arms.

“I can’t read your mind.” Her statement caused him to lift an eyebrow, forcing her to elaborate. “I’m a profiler, and for the love of God I cannot read what the hell is going on in your mind. You say that we need to stop and then you call me whenever you deem it’s a good time. You know we’re crossing a line here, make that very clear, but still see me in a romantic setting. I can't read your mind.”

His hands had dropped from her waist, and he took a step back. “There’s nothing to read here, Y/N. I thought we were together.”

She scoffed, causing him to wince, “then why the fuss, Aaron? Why are you saying things but doing the opposite? Why the mixed signals?” She waited a minute, staring back at him, waiting for him to say something, but when he didn’t, she grabbed her coffee and started to take off.

“Wait.” He hooked his hand around her elbow, causing her to turn back to him. “You’re right. I’ve screwed up. I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time— I don’t typically date, but Y/N, I’m not lying when I say that there is no one else I would want to be experiencing this with. I was actually hoping that you’re it for me.”

A small part of her wanted to laugh in his face. After countless days trying to read what the hell was going on in his mind, this wasn’t even on the forefront of the mental list she compiled. The biggest part of her wanted to believe him. She really did, but she had nothing to go on. “I need you to prove it, Aaron. I feel like I’m clueless here and I just—”

He swiftly cut her off by tugging her towards him and smashing their lips together. This kiss was a lot different than the secret or drunken ones they’ve shared. It felt like the real deal for Y/N, and she could’ve stayed there forever if it wasn’t for the small crash as well as the exclaimed “oh!” they heard.

Breaking apart, they turned their heads to see a very frazzled Penelope standing there with her hands in a surrendering position, lips in an “oh” shape, and a broken mug on the floor. No one spoke immediately, but once everyone was fully aware of the situation at hand, Penelope went down to the floor and started scooping up the broken pieces. “I am so sorry sir… and Y/N! I’m uh— I‘ll just—”

“It’s okay, Garcia,” Hotch’s voice was gruff, “I’ll clean it up. Just get ready for the briefing.”

She had slowly gotten up and wiped her hands across her dress. “Yes, sir,” she spoke quietly, but once she turned around and scurried away Y/N could hear a quiet “I am so telling Derek I was right.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward afterwards as they both pitched in to clean the broken glass. Their slightly heated faces and hidden smiles were enough for them to both understand what the other was thinking— this thing between them was real, and they had to practice avoiding the rest of the team for anything other than case related things.

#criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x female reader

[ssshh-im-a-secret]

An Obey Me X Twisted Wonderland Prompt

So, if MC went from Obey Me to Twisted Wonderland, I think it would be very funny if no one believed them when they started to open up about their time in the Devildom.

Like, they tell people they lived with the Seven Deadly Sins, they know the Crown Prince of Hell, etc. but no one believes them. They just kind of brushed it off as them trying to either get attention or to claim that they do know a thing or two about magic, but it's just different, when they are all under the assumption that MC doesn't have magic at all.

So, a bit frustrated, I would love it if MC would just start making shit up. They think they're probably never getting home, and even if they do get home, there's no way the people here will ever actually know anything about the Devildom because it's in another world.

They start making up random holidays, random trends, random career paths, random foods, and various other things. It's all fake. They know that it's fake. But they don't care, at this point it's entertaining. It would be super funny if they had an entire notebook dedicated to their lies so that they can keep them straight. Or if they had a datebook and just filled out random dates with various holidays.

(Bonus points if they end up convincing a few people, or letting the Adeuce duo in on the secret and they began treating it like MC was telling the truth and they believed them word for word)

And then the Obey Me Boys come, and everyone realizes, "Oh my god, MC wasn't lying. We need to learn more."

They start questioning all these crazy things because, even if these people and that place are real, all these facts can't be, right?

Everyone, despite not knowing about this prior, immediately agrees with whatever MC said. Lucifer and Beelzebub are probably a bit more ambiguous with their answers, Lucifer because he doesn't want to lie about the Devildom, and Beel because he doesn't want to answer in a way that may contradict, what MC has said.

Examples:

Random Twst character: So, do you guys really have a weeklong Chicken Dance Day Festival?

Diavolo, who has no idea what they're on about: Of course, it's a week after our two-day Macarena Day Festival.

.

Random Twst character: Do you guys really eat fire?

Satan, just hearing this for the first time: Most of us, but there are certain colors of fire that the lower-level demons can't stomach.

.

Belphie: *Gets woken up by Random Twst character*

Random Twst character: Do demons really hibernate for three decades after a few centuries?

Belphie: Yes.

Belphie:...

Belphie, deciding to add onto whatever the fuck they're talking about: But I'm a special case. I hibernate whenever I want for however long I want because I'm the Avatar of Sloth.

.

Random Twst character: Is it true that you once held up Lord Diavolo's Castle with one finger because there was a rat?

Barbatos: Of course. Mc could never have killed the rat if I hadn't.

.

Random Twst character, looking judgingly at Lucifer: Do you really breathe fire?

Lucifer: *Raises an eyebrow, but gives no actual response*

Random Twst character: *Is intimidated and drops the subject*

.

Random Twst character: MC says that you once gambled for five days straight and held a winning streak that entire time.

Mammon, feeling his ego grow ten times larger: Course they did! MC should want all of ya' to know about the Great Mammon.

.

Random Twst character: MC says you can talk to fish.

Levi: Duh.

.

Random Twst character: Is it true that you once knocked out an entire banquet of demons with one soup?

Solomon, suddenly feeling very hurt: Wha-

Simeon and Luke: Yes!

Beelzebub: *frantic nodding*

(MC didn't actually lie about this one, but maybe exaggerated a bit)

.

They probably confronted MC after a few days, and they all had a good laugh about it.

If MC did have a notebook or a datebook filled with whatever they've made up along with when these things supposedly take place, they would probably make more for the Obey Me boys who are now in on it.

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x reader headcanons #obey me x reader headcanon #obey me x reader hcs #obey me x reader prompt #obey me x reader prompts #obey me x mc #obey me x mc headcanons #obey me x mc headcanon #obey me x mc hcs #obey me x mc prompt #obey me x mc prompts #obey me mc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x reader headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader headcanon #twisted wonderland x reader hcs #twisted wonderland x reader prompt #twisted wonderland x reader prompts #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland x mc headcanons #twisted wonderland x mc headcanon #twisted wonderland x mc hcs #twisted wonderland x mc prompt #twisted wonderland x mc prompts #twisted wonderland mc #twst #twst x reader

[zepskies]

Being Human - Part 4 (Finale)

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

AN: (I decided to release this a bit early.) Here we are, friends! The final chapter...

Chapter Summary: Ames White captures you, forcing Alec to his knees.

Word Count: 4,300

Tags/Warnings: Peril and violence, angst, major hurt/comfort, but also major fluff...

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 4: Reckoning

Terminal City is a region on the edge of the city. The chemical and biohazardous waste that was dumped there after the Pulse makes ordinary humans sick, but for the immune transgenics, it’s the perfect spot to carve out a sanctuary.

Alec has been visiting the sector frequently, working with Max, Joshua, and other Manticore escapees to build up its infrastructure. Joshua lives here full-time now, as it’s safer for the half-canine transgenic and others like him, who don’t “look” human.

Today, Alec’s working with Mole and Joshua on ammunitions. Regardless of what any of them look like, they are all soldiers, in one way or another built and trained for warfare.

As much as Alec doesn’t want to see it, the tensions between “ordinaries” and transgenics are mounting, especially in Seattle. 

He checks his watch and realizes that he’s late to meet you. 

“Shit. I gotta go,” he says.

“Where’re you going?” Max asks. She has a perceptive eye, but Alec doesn’t reveal anything.  He revs up his motorcycle and dons his helmet.

“Just going to meet someone,” he says, purposely vague. He doesn’t want another lecture from her. 

The truth is, he’s dreading this. He knows when he sees you, it’ll be damn near impossible to maintain his distance. He should’ve just met you at your apartment, but surrounded by your things, your familiar scent etched into every fiber of your place…it would buckle his resolve. 

So he heads back on his motorcycle all the way home. 

Something’s off.

He instinctively knows after he climbs up the stairs to his apartment. He tests the door, and it opens without him having to unlock it.

You would know better than to leave the door open.

He pushes inside the apartment, and he’s greeted to a scene that drops his heart into his stomach. 

His apartment is empty, but a table near the kitchen is knocked over. Glass liters the ground where it’s overturned, and on further inspection, he finds drying bloodstains on the glass and on the floor.

His heart beats faster as he takes in everything with wide eyes. He doesn’t smell gunpowder, or find anything else that would tell him what happened here. 

He does find your purse, tossed by the couch in the living room. 

Alec whips out his phone and calls your cell.

“Hello, 494.” A man’s voice—one that Alec would know anywhere. It prickles his skin with unease and makes his blood boil all at once.

“Ames White.” Alec’s teeth grind. “What game are you playing now?”

“This isn’t a game. It’s business,” White claims. “I have something you want. How much are you willing to pay to make sure she stays alive?”

Alec forces himself to calm down, even though his pulse is racing.

“What do you want?”

“You. And 452. With no bullshit on your end,” the agent replies. “Or this girl is going to pay that price for you.”

Alec’s breath becomes unsteady. “And if I comply, you’ll let her go. I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Oh, I won’t lie to you. She’s on her way to the lab as we speak. You see, they’re gonna want to analyze that abomination she’s carrying,” White says. 

That steals the breath from Alec’s lungs.

His eyes grow wide as he puts together what the man is saying. 

“But if you do comply,” he says, “I’ll make sure they let her deliver to term, at least.”

Alec’s throat tightens. Oh, God… 

“You let her go, you son of a bitch!” he grinds out. His white-knuckle grip pops a few springs in the couch. He releases it and covers his face, pressing hard between his eyes. “She’s not part of this!” 

“It seems she is, 494. I’ll send you the time and the place. Be there with 452.”

The line clicks. Alec’s breathing is harsh. He grips his phone so hard it nearly shatters, but he tosses it onto the couch and pushes his palms against the burn in his eyes. His jaw locks with the strain of clenched teeth. No, no, no, NO! 

His phone chimes with a voicemail message. Alec grabs the phone and listens. It details coordinates and a meeting time: tonight, at midnight.

Alec makes another call with what remains of his phone.

“Max,” he says shakily. “I need your help.”  

Alec barely resists pacing throughout Logan’s apartment while the latter types away, researching the coordinates Ames White provided for the meeting point. Their forced surrender. 

Max perches on the corner of the couch with her arms crossed. She’s concerned for you as well, but she gazes at him with sympathy.

“We’ll find her, Alec,” she says. 

Alec shakes his head.

“He could have her anywhere,” he gestures widely. “He could’ve already handed her off to whatever shady government agency he works for. Or with that damn cult, that in case you’ve forgotten, hates us. Like everyone else in this city.”

“Not everyone,” Max reminds him pointedly. 

“Yeah, and look where we are now,” Alec retorts. “I told you this would happen!”

“Do you want to be right, or do you want to save her?” Max shoots back. “Now think. We’ve found bases of White’s operations before. Both for the agency, and the breeding cult.”

“I’m cross-referencing old locations,” Logan says. He’s been typing away at his computer for several minutes. “I can ask Asha and her people to join the search. And I can do an Eyes Only broadcast, encourage people to keep an eye out.” 

Alec nods, but any outcomes of those plans will take time. Time you might not have. 

They’ve been following anonymous tips for hours. Joshua and a few X5s and X6s joined the search for Ames White, and more importantly, for you. 

Alec and Max have been working together without stopping even for a breath throughout the night. They only have one hour before they’re meant to be at the agreed meeting point: an abandoned building near the edge of the city. No doubt for their easy extraction. 

Logan eventually calls Alec to tell him about a lab within a mile of the scheduled rendezvous point. There have been reports of late-night transports—locals calling in about strange noises, and in one case, what someone thought was a muffled gunshot.

Alec and Max agree to check it out, but they’re going to cut it close with the meeting time.

“Josh. Where are you, buddy?” Alec asks after calling his friend’s cell.

“I’m here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Here,” Joshua replies. He’s turned the corner and found his friends on the crossing of Avalon St. and Broadway, via his elite sense of smell.

“Good,” Alec smiles in relief. He pats his taller friend’s arm. “You’ve been a big help so far, but I need you for this. Wanna be part of the rescue party?”

“Yes,” Joshua nods, but his tone suggests he’s offended that Alec has to ask. “Help save your mate.”

Alec’s smile weakens. He doubts you’ll ever want to be that with him, ever again. But he’ll be damned if the government, or some damn breeding cult, is going to lay a hand on you.

Logan agrees to meet them there in his van for backup, while Josh hitches a ride on the back of Alec’s motorcycle. The three of them haul ass to the location of the suspected lab.

They approach a large, three-story dilapidated building. According to Logan, it used to be a mental health asylum. When the government bought it out, the facility was turned into a private lab.

Great, comes Alec’s sardonic thought. Hopefully the ghosts of whoever was tortured here won’t cause them any problems.

He and Max communicate silently through the militaristic hand motions they learned in their training to scope the place’s security, its entry points, and the best way for them to infiltrate the building. Although Manticore made Joshua, he hasn’t gone through the same training as most transgenics have.

He’s fortunate for it, but it means that Max has to direct him more carefully. He covers her and Alec as they approach the back entrance, which seems to be where they most often transport both cargo and people. Right now, there’s a large van waiting on standby.

Alec rips out the driver first, while Max and Joshua take on the other guards who start shooting. Alec comes around the back of the van, and when the first guard opens the back door, Alec tears the gun out of his hands and yanks him out. Alec uses the man’s body like a Kevlar vest as his two companies unload a clip or two. He punches them both out hard enough to hear the crack of bone.

The van inside is empty, but he sees a cot and several machines already ready and waiting to transport someone. He grits his teeth and slams the door shut on his way out.  

“She’s not in there,” he tells Max. “If she’s here, she’s gotta be inside.”

Max and Joshua have taken out the outside guards, no problem, but he’s sure there’ll be more where that came from.

The three of them enter the building and race through the long hallways, slipping by lab technicians, doctors, and other staff. Anyone who attempts to stop them soon regrets it.

Alec is especially brutal and efficient with the federal security guards. Max watches him out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t yet warn him to pull his punches. The stakes are high, and she understands his anger and stress.

“There’s a file room,” Alec points to a door that’s labeled: RECORDS.

“I doubt they’ll have a file on her yet, especially if White’s trying to keep this under wraps,” Max says.

Joshua looks around and points across the hall. “Cameras?”

The other two look in the direction he’s pointing to, and they see what he sees—a room labeled: SECURITY.

Alec slaps a companionable hand on Joshua’s back, and they head for the security room. The guards are dealt with swiftly, being knocked out and piled against the back wall. While Joshua keeps a lookout, Max and Alec scan the many different camera feeds: focused on various hallways and lab subjects.

Alec scans each of them rapidly. He’s always been good with TV.

He finds you on one of the camera feeds and he points to it. “There she is! Room 204.”

You’re in a small, cell-like room, sleeping on what almost looks like a hospital bed. Except there’s a breathing mask held over your face, probably keeping you unconscious, and you’re attached to several monitors. It makes his heart sink and his spine tighten with rage, simultaneously.

“Let’s go,” Max says, but it’s not necessary. Alec is already halfway out the door.

They’re stopped at a four-way crossroads in the hall. In the center is Ames White.

“You’re smart, I’ll give you that,” he grants with an incline of his head. He takes a radio clipped to his belt and clicks it on, speaking into it. “Transport the girl. Make sure she’s sedated.”

Alec seethes. Before he can sprint headlong into a fight, Joshua stops him. Alec looks up at him in askance.

“You go. Find her. Leave him with me,” Joshua says. His blue eyes are sharp with predatory anger at the man who killed Annie Fisher.

Alec softens a fraction and nods in understanding. He shoots Max a look.

“Go, I’ll catch up with you,” she says.

Alec nods and races on ahead. He dodges bullets with the help of superior speed and crashes into each guard, taking them out with brutal force. He steals a gun off of one of them, and that saves him a lot of time and energy. He tries not to kill anyone, but he can’t think about holding back. He just needs to get to you.

He reaches the second floor, and finally to Room 204.

Two men are already in the room. He doesn’t want to open fire—the room is too small, the risk of ricochet too high. He grabs a knife from his belt and hurls it at the first man, who was poised to inject something into your arm. The second guard turns with his gun, but Alec is already moving too fast for human eyes to follow.

He breaks the man’s arm, followed by a swift uppercut. He takes the gun and hurls the man into the far wall, knocking him clean out as he slumps to the floor.

Alec breathes hard in the aftermath, but he begins to soften after his attention turns to you. He sets down the gun and takes in the sight of you, still dressed in jeans and a blood-stained shirt.

You’re heavily sedated and restrained by your wrists and ankles. You have a bandage wrapped around your forearm, along with brain and heart monitors attached to your forehead and chest, and an IV drip in your other arm. 

Alec takes a breath, and he starts with the wires, removing the small suction cups from your body and disconnecting all the monitors. He takes off the mask and unclips the leather restraints. 

The fury builds back up inside him at what they’ve already done to you. He doesn’t want to think any more on what they’d planned to do.

You must’ve been terrified, he thinks. He touches your cheek tenderly. His free hand hesitates, before it rests gently on your belly. He calls your name. 

You don’t stir just yet. Your body is still under the effects of the sedation. So he carefully lifts you into his arms. He hears Max approach, and she’s there in the doorway by the time he turns around. 

“Let’s go,” Alec says. His face is hard and angry while he carries you out. 

They regroup with Joshua in the lobby, though even Alec stops short when he sees the carnage. Ames White’s body lays on the floor with unseeing eyes. His throat is torn out. 

Joshua has blood in his teeth. He wipes at his face with the back of his arm, his eyes veering away from Max and Alec. Max blinks through her shock and tries to keep her mouth from falling open.

“Time to go,” Joshua says. His voice is heavy, but matter of fact.

“We’ll need to take his body, get rid of it later,” Max says, when she recovers. “We can’t let the police find him.”

They’ll blame us, is understood by them all. The police won’t have the full story, but it won’t matter. Appearances are everything. 

Max finds a black body bag in a nearby storage closet and Joshua collects White, later hefting the full body bag over his shoulder.

They make their escape out the back of the building, where Logan is waiting with his van. Joshua deposits the body in the back, where he also climbs in. Max takes the front passenger seat while Alec carries you into the middle seat bed. 

Nothing else feels right but to hold you in his arms. To stroke your cheek and wait, both desperate for, and yet dreading the moment you’ll open your eyes. 

Because when you do, there’s a good chance that he’ll find your fear. Or worse. 

“She’s going to be okay,” Max says to him, quietly. She’s twisted towards him in her seat.

“Maybe physically,” Alec counters. “I don’t know, Max. How did being held up in a lab affect your mental health?” 

Her lips purse. “One step at a time, okay?”

Alec shakes his head and looks down at you. He tries to commit your peaceful face to memory, because he doubts that he’ll ever see it again after tonight. 

Slowly, you start to wake.

At first, all you see is shadows and shapes of someone looming over you. Unconsciously you whimper and push at whatever holds you down, but the hold is gentle, the voice soothing. 

“Shh, it’s okay. Sweetheart, it’s me,” he says. 

Your eyes clear and focus as you blink…though they soon flood with tears. Relief takes over your fear. You see his concerned, handsome face, and your lower lip trembles. 

“Alec,” is all you manage to say. You still have some trouble moving your heavy body, but you grab a fistful of his shirt and wince as you pull yourself up, just enough to bury your face into his chest. Your body shakes with the force of your sobs. 

Alec gathers you up against him and shushes you gently, even as his heart clenches. He soothes a hand over your hair and your back. 

“I’ve gotcha. It’s okay, you’re safe,” he says in your ear. He meets Max’s concerned gaze, then Joshua’s in the shrouded end of the car. Even Logan glances back through the rearview mirror as he drives. 

Alec tries to block them out and focus on you. He holds you and comforts you for as long as you let him.

Eventually, you pull away to look at his face. You still have tears in your eyes, but now, it’s with a hue of uncertainty. 

“The man…the agent who took me. He was looking for you,” you say. Your voice is weak and a bit coarse. You try to clear it.

Alec wishes he had some water for you.

“He’s gone. You don’t have to worry about him,” he says. 

You let out a shaky breath, but you meet his gaze. “He said that you’re not…Alec, are you…”

He sighs; he understands the question you’re trying to ask. 

“Yeah. Those freaks you hear people talking about on the news?” he says. “I’m one of ‘em.”

Your eyes widen as your breathing becomes more labored.

“I was made in a lab,” Alec confesses. “At Manticore, bred and trained to be a soldier.”

A transgenic.

Your hand falls away from his chest, and you take that in with an unblinking stare. He can see you trying to process all this.

You glance over at Max, who had been facing the front to give you and Alec the semblance of privacy. Feeling your gaze on her, she turns around and gives you a half-hearted smile. 

“Hey, girl,” she greets. “Glad you’re okay.”

“You’re like him too?” you ask. Max nods.

Suddenly, everything makes so much sense. Why she and Alec have always seemed to share history and bickered like siblings. Why Max was friendly, but never truly your family. Why Alec had been so much of a mystery to you. Why he’d broken your heart. 

“Joshua too,” says a deep voice from the back. 

You turn your head and gasp as your eyes fly open wide again. Alec gives his friend a look over your head, but he tries to reassure you with a warm hand on your lower back. He hopes you can’t see the dried blood on Joshua’s snout. 

Joshua breaks into a sheepish smile. 

“Sorry,” he says, gesturing to his wolf-like face. “Bit of dog in my cocktail.”

You shake your head slowly. Your mouth opens and closes, but you try your best to get through your shock (and a lance of fear). Your head tilts as you consider his kind, very human blue eyes.

“You, um, your name is Joshua?” you say at last.

“Yes, Joshua,” he nods. “Rescue party.”

You blink at that. “You…helped get me out of there?”

He nods again, with a smile that flashes a few canine pointed teeth. You rest a hand over your wildly beating heart. 

“Thank…you,” you manage. 

Joshua bobs his head. “No problem. Saved Alec’s mate.”

If possible, your eyes widen further at that one. You turn back to Alec with raised brows. He offers a wan smile and a nervous chuckle. You notice, however, that he hasn’t let go of you. You’re also still sitting across his lap. 

“This is what you were hiding from me,” you say, perhaps stating the obvious. Your heart clenches with pain. “Why you…”

He brushes his hand along your arm. 

“I was trying to protect you,” Alec says. His brows furrow as his green-eyed gaze veers away from your face, with shame. “But I failed, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. None of this was supposed to happen—”

Some instinct has you reaching out to sooth your hand along his cheek, stopping his lips with your thumb. You stare up into his eyes, and they’re no longer guarded or distant. They’re the eyes you remember. 

Whatever you are, you’re mine.

You lean up and press your lips to his.

After a beat, Alec’s eyes close, and he answers you in kind. His fingers sink into your knotted hair. You grip his shirt by the collar, and he wraps his arm securely around you. 

With each new kiss, you feel more relieved. You don’t realize you’re trembling until he clasps your shaking hand against his cheek, to steady you. 

Alec gives you one more searing kiss before he pulls you into his arms. It’s a hug you both need.

His eyes shut tight as he buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. His lips find the mark he’d left weeks ago on your skin. It’s faint by now, but it’s still there. He takes deep breaths to calm himself, and you rub his back through it. 

He realizes you’re comforting him now; a fact that makes him smile.

You’re mine, instinct tells him. And this time, he just can’t fight it. 

Logan houses you and Alec for the night (or the morning, since dawn breaks by the time you all get back). 

You’re exhausted, but you still force yourself to shower. You’ll have to remind yourself to thank Logan for the spare clothing, though you don’t bother with the sweatpants just opt for the large shirt as you roll into bed. 

Alec isn’t far behind after he takes a quick shower. You force yourself to stay awake, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. His skin glistens when he eventually leaves the bathroom, and you watch him cross the bedroom with just a towel low on his hips. He shoots you a smile before he starts getting dressed.

“Logan says he’s help us find a new place to live,” he says. 

You slowly smile at that. “Us?”

“Well, you know, both of our apartments are compromised.”

“Yeah, I get that,” you reply. When he slides into bed next to you, you swim through the covers and inch closer to him. “I’m just glad it’s a together thing.”

Alec gives you an amused look, but there’s warmth in his eyes. He thumbs at your lower lip. Soon, his smile begins to fall.

“I didn’t want to get you caught up in this. In my crazy fucked up life,” he says. 

“I know,” you sigh. “But I’m in it now. I’m in this with you. You realize that, right?”

He nods, though he doesn’t think he deserves it. Or you, for that matter. 

He slips his arm around you, just the same. You rest your head against his shoulder and tap his chin. 

“Alec, I don’t care what you are,” you say. “Transgenic or not, you’re the man I’ve always known.”

He lets out a subtle breath at that, chuckling. 

“For better or worse, right?” he asks.

You smile. “I have something to tell you…though I’m pretty sure you already know.”

Despite a tremor of nerves, a slow grin spreads across his face. 

“Tell me anyway,” he says. “I love surprises where I know the answer.”

You giggle. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” he nods with a smirk. “Just tell me, woman.”

Your hand drifts down to rest against his chest, and you tilt up your face so you can meet his dancing eyes. The fact that he seems genuine gives you enough courage to just…say it.

“Alec, I’m pregnant,” you tell him.

His smile grows.

“…Really?” he teases. “You sure it’s mine?”

You gasp, laughing, and you shove against his chest. You twist away from the cage of his arms, but he laughs and doesn’t let you so easily escape. You realize then how truly strong he is when he rolls you under him on the bed. 

He dips down and claims you with a kiss. He shakes his head, because he never thought this would be his life. His hand sneaks under the sheets to rest over your lower belly, through the shirt. In turn, you cover his hand. You bite your lip with slight anxiety.  

“You’re really okay with this?” you ask. “Even after everything we…this is a lot for us. Really soon.”

Alec gradually sobers, and he acknowledges that with a nod.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Honestly, I didn’t see this coming.”

You have to laugh a little at that. His lips tug at the corners, but as he squeezes your hand back, he stares directly into your eyes.  

“But I’m not letting you do this alone. I… I love you,” he admits. “Sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”

Tears burn in your eyes, but only one finds its way down your cheek. You take in a tremulous breath and nod. 

“I love you too,” you reply. Though you can’t hide a different uncertainty when you look at him. “But if you leave me again…Alec, I can’t.”

He looks more vehement than you’ve ever seen him when he shakes his head, meeting your gaze. 

“That’s not happening. I promise,” he says. “You’re stuck with me, baby. So much that you might just get sick of me.”

You utter a laugh through your tears, and you nod in acceptance. Alec smiles and wipes your cheek dry before he gathers you tighter into his arms, and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

You relax against his chest with a sigh. His heartbeat thrums steadily under your cheek.

And you finally rest.

AN: And there we have it. 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Being Human.

I might come back to add bonus one-shots to this, if you guys are interested in seeing more of their story. 💜 But I hope you'll let me know what you think about how it all shook out here!

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[plutoccult]

ALWAYS THE ARTIST, NEVER THE MUSE

pairing: eren yeager x gender neutral reader

description: you know you shouldn’t have let yourself fall for eren, but you did anyway, and it only left you with nothing but hurt when you knew his heart belonged to another. after months of torture, you finally have the strength to let go, granting you the happiness you so desperately needed back in your life.

word count: 1.7k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: happy december? no, angsty december. this particular one shot is a little personal for me because it’s based off a final conversation i had with someone who i essentially let have hold of my heart for far too long and finally had the strength to let go of them a few months ago. he’s like jake gyllenhaal minus the age gap. i say this because he gave me the ability to relate to the moment i knew aka not being there for my 21st birthday! insane! i did however make it less personal by giving it some how i met your mother vibes, but there’s still inklings of my personal life in it. writing helps me heal and express my feelings in a way that i’m comfortable with, so i feel good writing this as part of my healing journey? corny to use fanfiction for healing, but to each their own. sorry if this is too angsty, but imagine how my life has been LMAO. anyway, big shoutout to my friend @toorubobatea for beta reading this. i really wanted her to read it before i posted it, so thank you queen!! and now i hope you guys can enjoy it just like she did! mwah! and i’m tagging @jeanboyjean since she so kindly asked me to <3

you knew that the day you met eren yeager, your life would never be the same, but my god, did it your life turn upside down. pulled in so many different directions you couldn’t tell what was left or right anymore. you felt like you were losing yourself in the process, but you wanted more of him like you wanted to breathe air.

it was always a mistake. one beautiful, soul-crushing mistake. he’d lead you on with mixed signals and uncertainty, but you lived for the thrill because it was the only interesting thing going on in your life. it’s “for the plot”, as you’d always say. even if your friends told you a million times he was bad news and you would only get hurt in the end, you didn’t care.

he was just your friend, that’s what you two always claimed; just friends, but you always sensed a hint of a lie in those words. you couldn’t be just friends. not when he remembered everything you said down to what you had for lunch last week or that time your mother fainted as she watched you get stitches for the first time as a kid. not when he spoke to you everyday like clockwork, a routine that seemed to come easy. how could you ever be just friends? how could it not be more?

you were inevitably in love with eren yeager, and it crushed you when you realized he never once had those feelings for you. not only that, but he was in love with someone else; mikasa ackerman, his best friend since childhood. it all made perfect sense, and you wished you never met him in the first place. but even then, you couldn’t keep yourself away from him. as long as he didn’t know of your feelings, everything would be fine, right? oh, how you were so, so wrong.

you tortured yourself every time you spoke to him. you listened to him as he pined for mikasa, too scared to admit his feelings to her. of course you knew what it was like to be in that position, the one you wanted was sitting right in front of you and he didn’t seem to have a clue. it frustrated you so much, but even so, you’d rather have something instead of nothing with him. such a sad way to feel, such a sad way to live when you think about it now. always the artist, never the muse. constantly crafting for others, nothing ever created just for you.

you’d push those feelings deep down into the darkest pit of your heart, but no matter how hard you tried, it would all come back every time you saw his face or even thought of him. those thoughts of maybe if you were prettier, funnier, and just overall better plagued your mind, but you had to shake them away. one day, you knew, you’d ultimately become fed up and blow up about it. it was the only way you knew how, the only way you could be free.

so now here you were, sitting at your usual booth in your favorite bar—assuming it may no longer be yours after tonight—waiting for eren to arrive so you could talk. you assumed he could sense your seriousness and urgency when you texted him, but you figured so be it. one way or another, you’d do this.

he arrived like you expected. you refused to let him make you second guess yourself, so you kept your cool and acted as normal before you dropped the bomb on him. besides, the shot you took before he showed up was quite the help, plus the drink you swirled around in its glass now.

eren walked over to the bar to grab a drink before heading over to the booth, expecting you to stand up and greet him with a hug like always, but you remained in your seat, clutching your drink in your hands.

“hey, i got your text.” he said as he sat down across from you.

“i see that.” you reply. he noticed you were acting different, not like the y/n he knew. it was obvious you had something on your mind, and since he knew you so well, eren could sense you were going to spill your guts about something.

“what’s up? is something wrong?” eren asked. this was it.

“i just.” you pause. oh god, you were really doing this. “i just wanted to say that i’m done with whatever this is.”

he’s silent, he doesn’t know what to say. you feel like the words are all coming out like vomit. you almost wish you were spewing real vomit right now, but you weren’t quite drunk enough for that. you had to get through this hellish conversation first, at least.

“i’m done. i’m not going to make a fool out of myself anymore. i’m done trying. i’m giving up.” you say, tears threatening to stream down your face, but you fight them away. “i’m done exhausting myself of trying to be something i’ll never be because deep down i know i’ll never be yours.”

eren should’ve seen this coming. all those times you fell silent when he ranted to you about his love problems. you always wanted to scream in his face about how the one person in this world that actually wanted him was always right there, that it was you. even so, he could never give you what you wanted, and he felt like the worst person in the world because of it.

you wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything. if this was going to be your final conversation, he might as well say something. “well, speak now or forever hold your peace because i’m clearly not holding mine.”

“i mean, it’s just not what i was expecting to hear.” eren finally spoke. “i’m just shocked.”

“trust me, i never expected to say it either, but if i’ve learned anything, it’s that i care too much.” you tearfully admit. “too much about you when i know where your heart belongs and it’s not with me.”

“i’m sorry, y/n. i never meant for things to get like this.” he said with sincerity, although you wondered if it was all a lie. “and you must know that there was never any hostile intentions behind any of my actions.”

“that’s funny. it always seemed like there was.” you looked down at your drink, quickly moving your gaze back to him as he spoke once more.

“no, you…” eren paused, trying to put the words together in the best way he could. even if he didn’t seem like it, he did care someway, somehow. “you’ve been there for me when i needed someone most and i’m really, really grateful for that, but i can’t give you what you want, and i’ve been unfair to you as a result. i’m sorry.”

huh. this really wasn’t what you were expecting. where’s the insults? where’s the twisting of your words? why is he actually being apologetic and taking accountability? you wanted to say this was crazy, but this is eren you’re talking about. you always knew he was too good. too good to ever be yours, even.

“you know, this is usually the part where you flip out and make it all my fault instead by calling me delusional and crazy.” you force a laugh. might as well laugh through the pain, right?

“i’m not gonna flip out.” eren said.

“why?” you question him.

“because i know i’ve done wrong by you.” he replied.

“well, that’s a shock.” you take a sip of your drink, tempted to chug it, but eren’s words shocked you into stopping the liquid from going past your lips.

“it shouldn’t have to be, y/n.” he frowned. “you deserve someone who won’t weigh you down. you deserve to move on, even if it’s not flattering for me.”

you set down your drink as you let out a sigh and briefly cover your face, rubbing your eyes before showing yourself once more. “i hate that you’re being so nice about this. i was expecting to yell at you or something.”

“do you want to?” eren asked you.

as much as past you would have loved to, you didn’t have the energy to be bitter anymore. “no… i’m okay. this is better.”

“you sure?”

“yeah, positive.” you say, followed by silence. there wasn’t much for you to say anymore, and you couldn’t beat on this dead horse any longer. it was time to finally say goodbye, no matter how much it pained you to do so. “um, i guess we should just end this here, huh?”

“yeah, guess so.” he looked away. this hurt eren too, but you both knew this was for the best. you’ll be thankful later down the road.

“would it be totally wrong to sneak in a taylor swift quote right now?” you ask, almost immediately regretting the question.

“no, go for it.”

“eh, maybe not. too corny.” you thought it would be best to keep those words to yourself. besides, it was too hard to pin it down to just one thing. he was worth a hundred songs, ones you may never listen to the same way, but that’s okay.

“she’s a wise, wise woman, you know.” eren said, a grin slowly creeping up on his face, despite the circumstances.

“yeah, she is.” you softly smile. at least you could end this on a little good note.

“goodbye, y/n. i wish you the best in everything.”

“goodbye, eren. i really hope you get her someday.”

and with that, you placed a twenty dollar bill on the table and left the bar, no longer claiming it as your favorite and leaving it to eren, along with your favorite place to sit. like with everything else in life, nothing lasts forever, nothing stays the same, and that’s okay. you knew that now.

it was such a strange feeling, having this weight lifted off your shoulders. you had been burdened with this boulder for so long you forgot what it felt like to be weightless. you were finally clean of eren yeager, light as a feather, but most importantly, happy, and freeing yourself of such delusions was the greatest gift you could ever receive.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot angst #snk angst #attack on titan angst #shingeki no kyojin angst #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager angst #aot eren #snk eren #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger angst #pluto writes 📝

[lacyscabinet]

Nat comes back from hunting, and reader isn't there, and everyone didn't see her, and then Nat finds her in the small shack where shauna usually was with Jackie's body

Reader was huddled up with the sharpest knife, and it was covered in blood

(Basically reader was gonna commit)

I NEED ANGSTY 😓😓

SORRY IF THIS TRIGGERS :(

A/N: thank you for this request <3, as someone who has struggled and still struggles with sh, I feel like I need to spread a little message through this note, you are enough, I know that everybody says that, and I know that you might think it's pathetic, but it's true, it doesn't matter if you failed a test, broke up with your s/o, messed something up , did anything you regret doing or even not doing, or if you just don't feel like sticking around anymore, only one thing doesn't have a remedy. I struggle to believe it myself sometimes but in the end there is always something worth living for. Think about it. Emotional pep talk over, sorry for rambling, hope you'll like this fic<3

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS : knives, attempted suicide, suicidal ideation, depression, sh, blood

You're losing me

Another day hunting, another day without finding any game, everyone was starving back at the cabin, and the frustration Nat felt was sickening.

And the team worshipping Lottie and going as far as saying that Lottie was providing more food than her made Natalie see red.

Travis wasn't helping much these days, grieving his little brother, long story short, everyone was on edge, you more than anyone else.

Nobody really knew how much you were struggling, you tried to open up with Natalie once and she didn't really catch up on the way you felt, she just thought you were really sad that day and comforted you.

But it was deeper than that, at first when you all got stranded, you were full of life, hopeful to get rescued and go on with your life, but as the days, the weeks and the moths went by, the bright glimmer in your eyes dimmed gradually, only leaving a hint of emotions when you cried, you felt drained, tired and sick, not the type of tired that a good night of sleep could fix and not the type of sick that painkillers could tame.

And then, with all the things you've seen, all the things you did, it was all in order to survive of course, but you still did it, you did it.

As time went by you started to think about the way you would be way more useful if you died, not only you wouldn't have to eat food, leaving more for your teammates, but you also would become food, and a part of you hoped that someday you'll become useful to the others.

You thought and you even dreamed about it, not feeling pain anymore, not being completely useless anymore, and one day, you took matters into your own hands.

That day, a shivering Natalie, fresh out of another failed hunt, looked for you in the cabin, simply to spend some time with you since she was gone in the snow the whole day, she searched and searched but you were nowhere to be seen.

"Mari? Have you seen Y/N" Natalie asked the girl who was busy cooking something definitely not nutritious enough to make the team feel full, Mari shrugged "I saw her this morning, she was going out, I thought she was looking for you"

Nat frowned, thanking Mari and going into the living room, a bunch of the girls sat there around the fire, and of course, you weren't there

"God..." Shauna spoke up, looking around the room "Has anyone seen my knife? I think I lost it"

The others shrugged as Natalie reached for the door, searching for you outside.

She was used to the ironically burning cold, but still, it wasn't pleasant.

Walking around the outside of the cabin she couldn't help but curse you and hope you were okay at the same time.

After a faint noise she froze in her spot, paying attention to her surroundings, and then her eyes widened when she heard a loud sob.

Looking around, she realized that there was only one place the cries could come from, the tiny wooden shelter next to the cabin.

As she walked closer to it the noises just got louder and louder, and she was sure that it was you, she could recognize your voice everywhere after all, but "why is she crying?" Nat kept thinking.

When she entered the shed, she couldn't believe her eyes, yes, you were there, but Shauna's knife was there as well, covered in blood.

At first her mind wanted to believe that you found game on your way to join Nat in her daily hunt, and you were just cutting up pieces of deer meat, but when she noticed your sleeves rolled up and deep vertical slits on your wrists all the hope in her mind was gone.

She was losing you.

And you yourself, couldn't feel a thing, after the painful cuts, you found a certain peace in the warm feeling of blood pouring out of your veins, a bold contrast compared to the freezing weather.

Nat cursed, she was shocked, but she knew that she couldn't allow herself to be in shock, she had to help, she had to do something .

She was losing you.

"Hey! Hey! Can you hear me? Please baby, can you hear me?" She cried out kneeling next to your body

You weren't completely unconscious, wobbling between the two worlds, and in a moment of consciousness, the only thing you could say was "Nat..."

She instantly replied, eagerly trying to get some more words from you "What baby?"

"You can... when it's time, you can...you can eat me, you have my permission...please do it Nat, you deserve to live"

Natalie couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth "No, no, don't say that, you are gonna be okay, you're gonna be fine"

And in that moment your vision went black.

She lost you.

For three hours. The worst three hours of her life.

As soon as you passed out, she picked you up and brought you back inside.

After seeing your conditions everyone was alarmed, Tai quickly stitched you up as best as she could, and then Nat proceeded to clean you up from all the blood you lost.

Coach Ben let the girls lay you down in his small room, and after that they all collectively decided to leave you alone with Nat for a while.

She held your hand the whole time, clinging to the feeling that you weren't gone, you couldn't be gone, your heart was still beating, a faint beating, but it was working.

When you opened your eyes, she was there, squeezing your hand with her own, eyes closed and a tear stained face

Just like in the movies you thought, but you weren't in a safe hospital at the end of a movie, you were at the start of your little personal hell.

And even when she held you tightly after she noticed your wide eyes, you couldn't help but wish you were somewhere else.

After all, maybe she really lost you that day.

A/N: I think I just poured my soul into this fic. Hope you enjoyed, stay safe <3

#natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x #natalie scatorccio x y/n #writers on tumblr #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you

[ghcstao3]

If I were to portray someone unbelievably pathetic and without any hope, would you give me another part of your #anyway mildly supernatural au?

I'll get down on my knees and pray to any god you want.

Just please give me more please.

do not even Fret i would have written more for absolutely nothing in return anyway because i just love writing AUs so much (if you could not already tell)

fun fact this is version 2.0 of what i wanted to write because tumblr didn’t save a draft and i lost everything 🫶 not edited

-

So much and so little time feel like they’ve passed simultaneously as John waits out the rain with Simon—and oddly enough, not once has he seen the bottom of his styrofoam cup of coffee in spite of the plentiful sips he’s certain he’s taken.

In any case.

He and Simon chat aimlessly to fill the minutes, hours, whatever it’s been—something just beyond small talk, though not by much. Not until Simon decides to face John with a rather puzzling question.

“So, then, what brings you here?”

John furrows his brow. “My car broke down,” he says slowly. He can’t help the confusion and tinge of curiosity that melt into his voice, nor can he help wondering why Simon would ask for an answer he already knows.

Yet Simon shakes his head. “No—what brings you here?”

A frown tugs at John’s lips, his eyebrows drawing ever closer. “Dinnae ken.” He shrugs helplessly, tries a different reply, “A road trip?”

Simon hums only as acknowledgment. It’s clear in the way he narrows his eyes and scrutinizes John’s face that it’s still not the answer he’s looking for.

“You’re lost,” Simon concludes.

John scoffs. “Am no’!” He exclaims, frustration laced in his tone as he folds his arms almost defensively across his chest. “I was followin’ a GPS!”

“You are,” Simon insists. “Just not in the way you think.”

With a huff, John drops his arms, instead reaching to curl his fingers back around the still-warm cup of coffee. His frown deepens. “How do you mean?”

Simon tilts his head, gaze ever-analytic. “You’re lucky,” he replies cryptically. “Or unlucky, depending on how you choose to look at it. Not many humans manage to get here.”

Now John is beyond confused. Of course, Simon had been all sorts of vague and avoidant throughout their interactions, but this? John is beginning to think this man might not be all… there.

“Human…?” John swallows. He shifts his weight between weary feet. “Why would I be anything but?”

Simon takes a step away from the counter, rounds past John only to stop at the large window looking out into a small, crumbling lot and the forest beyond the road, all blurred by heavy rain. John realizes with a start that he hadn’t really seen Simon move before that—hadn’t seen deliberate steps, the way he almost glides across the space; graceful, soundless.

It’s almost—dare John say—supernatural.

“Well, you see, Johnny,” Simon says with a mild air of amusement, and John has barely any time to process that Simon knows his name despite it never having been given as he continues, “there’s often a lot more than meets the eye in this world we live in. It just appears you’ve looked in the right place for once.”

“I don’t understand.”

Simon turns back to him, then, the glint in his eyes that same hint of unnatural as his movements. They flash, a glare almost like that of a cat’s in the dark of night.

“I don’t expect you to.”

Simon looks away from John again, a broad figure against the pale grey light that filters inside. John’s heart stutters even as he willingly brings himself closer to Simon.

“The rain will stop soon,” Simon states disinterestedly. It hardly appears like the storm would let up any time soon—the sky is still stained with dark and angry clouds—but Simon says it with such unimpressed, unwavering confidence that John thinks he may as well believe him.

“Will it?” John challenges anyway.

Simon shrugs. “Not unless you don’t want it to.”

John huffs out a quiet laugh. As strange as Simon and everything he’s said is, and as much as John has questioned everything else, he decides he’ll humour the man.

“Maybe just a bit longer, then.”

After all, John hasn’t hated lingering in the store. No harm in indulging in such silly thoughts as controlling the weather.

Simon nods. The corners of his eyes pull upward as if he’s smiling beneath the mask he’s still refused to remove. Briefly, John wonders what other things Simon may be hiding beneath it.

Simon concurs, “Then so it is.”

#ask #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #ghoap #soapghost #ghostsoap #writing #alternate universe #anyway mildly supernatural au

[khaire-traveler]

This is not an invitation for discourse. I am just stating my personal opinions.

I've been seeing some posts going around lately about myth retellings and wanted to give my opinion on something: I think the helpol community (maybe other polytheistic and pagan communities, too) is honestly too critical and intense about modern retellings (and even some historical ones as well somehow).

I know what it's like coming from that critical point of view. I used to be highly critical of certain retellings and stories that used Greek mythology. They used to deeply bother me, actually, but overtime, I realized that staying mad and fuming about these things I can't change - that will always be created - is really exhausting and even causes me to miss out on some truly interesting stories.

Also, seeing how intense some people can be about retellings has actively discouraged people in the community from writing them. How do I know this? I am one of those people, and I happen to know several others in the same predicament. Some people in the community will rip and tear and claw at retellings as if the retelling murdered everyone they loved. People talk about these retellings as if they're literally destroying the earth itself sometimes - like, seriously, y'all, it's wild.

Once, I saw someone post a short story they wrote - a retelling of a myth that I won't name, as I don't want to give the identity of this person away. This person posted this story with good intentions and was a worshipper of the figures depicted within the story, but still, they got absolutely dragged by larger Tumblr blogs and were torn into and literally chased off of Tumblr. This kind of behavior is not ok for multiple reasons, but the main point I'm trying to make is that we are actively making it harder for people within the community to write retellings. You want retellings from people who actually worship the gods? Then maybe make the community a much less judgmental place because sharing creative works takes a lot of courage as it is. Imagine building up the courage to create and share a retelling just to be ripped into by the very community you are a part of. I'm not saying you can't mention to someone when they've gotten something wrong or have written something potentially problematic, but I am saying that you shouldn't ruthlessly dissect someone's work and rip them a part if they seem to be well-meaning but misinformed (assume the best; not everyone is out to get us; easier said than done, I know). You can give criticism while still being respectful to the original author.

For many of these other authors, however, they likely don't even know that worship of these gods exists in the modern day, and even if they do know, acknowledging it may not be relevant to their story, or even their point. Sure, in a perfect world, these authors would acknowledge our little community and pay homage to actual ancient traditions/culture/etc, but we don't live in a perfect world, and that's ok. It is ok, y'all. Not every author writing a retelling is going to be a literal classics major or historian. Not every author writing a retelling is going to be educated on the actual ancient -or modern - worship of these gods. Not every author writing a retelling is going to pay homage to original source material. Do those things suck sometimes? Yes, absolutely. Do we need to lose our heads over it? No, not really. We can choose to focus on other things - on material and media that we actually enjoy and that do depict things how we'd like them to be depicted.

Now, none of this is to say that there are no problematic retellings or that speaking out on problematic retellings is wrong because hoo, boy, there are quite a lot of those. Some retellings claim to be historically accurate and are, in fact, not; some retellings are written by authors with less than ideal values and ideologies; some retellings are even based entirely on misinformation which can be frustrating to hear about. All of these things are true, but it's also true that not every retelling is out to get us. Not every retelling is trying to attack our small community and the gods we worship. As alarming and offensive as it can feel sometimes, it's important that we take a minute and realize that honestly, authors write stories, and sometimes a story is truly just meant to be a story. It's nothing personal. It feels like we, or our gods, are being attacked, but at the end of the day, we still have our own practices, and we are still allowed to engage with those practices. We are still allowed to worship our gods respectfully, even if others do not. And it is important to acknowledge here that others do not worship our gods. These authors are most likely not worshippers of the Theoi. They most likely do not have relationships with these gods as we do, and unfortunately, they may not have respect for these gods either. It would be ideal if they did, but they just might not, and there's no controlling that.

Honestly, most authors are trying their best. They're trying their best to write an interesting, authentic story that will capture the attention of their intended audience. They want to tell a story based on a mythology that inspired them so deeply, so carnally, that they felt the need to write a whole ass book or create a whole ass game about it. They see stories of tragic heroes, powerful gods, and all those caught in-between, and they think, "This is fucking epic; I'm gonna do something with this." Greek mythology is fucking cool. There's absolutely no denying that, and the fact that so many creators of all kinds continue to create retellings based on the love and passion of a mythology from over 2,000 years ago is pretty damn awesome, actually.

#helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan