#great prompt too! ty!

[drunkkenobi]

Hi bb, ty for the prompt to write my thoughts!

So I can't get on tumblr at work anymore unless I go outside to get good signal on my phone so I have only been privy to what's going on here today from friends on discord. So maybe I'm missing some nuance or the what my mutuals think and I apologize in advance for that but I'm going to speak plainly.

This is the only way Watcher is going to survive.

The view counts have been steady through Mystery Files season 2 but they aren't, like, astronomical. A video with a million views nets a channel between $10,000 - $30,000. Guys. That's nothing for Watcher. They have to pay each of their 25+ employees a salary with insurance and benefits and for everything else their channel requires. Steven said in the video today that a season of Ghost Files costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. I don't think everyone is hearing that part and understanding how much money that is, especially compared to many other YouTubers they watch. I'm not an expert on other YouTubers but I look at the Sims people I watch. They are successful with views in the hundred k range because they are a company of one. Themselves and maybe paying a freelancer to help edit their videos. For one person, the stakes are lower and the potential for profit is higher! Especially for gamers that are filming in their homes. YouTubers like this, making niche content on the cheap, are who is going to make it in YouTube now.

Watcher is none of those things. They have, from day one, wanted to make high quality unscripted content. All of their shows are shows. They aren't just "Ryan and Shane do [thing]" or "Steven eats [whatever]". They are shows, like ones you see on cable TV or any streamer. And shows are not cheap. Unscripted is cheaper, sure, than scripted. But that doesn't mean cheap. Especially not with the sheer production value we've seen on all their shows, in particular Ghost Files (hundreds of thousands of dollars). That is how much something like Ghost Adventures costs, which is on Travel Channel, an actual TV network that puts up all those costs.

So. That's why Watcher has to pivot to survive.

I think it's a great idea, personally. And yes, I am in a position where I can financially afford it no problem, which I know is a privilege! I am very lucky in that regard. And I understand that many people are upset they won't see the boys as easily on YouTube anymore. That is valid! But they have openly said they are totally fine with password sharing and I think that's a great way to cut down on costs for some folks. Also right now there's a great deal on the yearly sub for early subscribers. $40 for a year is cheaper than any streaming service and it doesn't go to anyone other than Watcher.

I understand that people feel hurt and blindsided, but I think Watcher is also feeling this too. They have been so excited about this and being able to make whatever they want without having to worry about sponsors and now they're mostly seeing anger directed their way. Especially at Steven. Steven is not rich. You know who's rich? David Zaslav, a man who is single-handedly ruining Warner Brothers and making himself a billionaire while he's at it. THAT is the kind of person we should be directing our anger at streaming prices and quality of the media landscape at. Not one small business that is just trying to survive so they can continue paying their employees.

And one more thing. I've seen folks saying they'd rather watch more ads than pay and while I get that, that's not going to help Watcher make what they want. YouTube famously demonetizes videos with swears which is why I can't watch a video with DRAG QUEENS without every other line being bleeped and Watcher has been so good about not bleeping their content because they know we would hate it. And YouTube does this because of advertisers. Advertisers only want to appeal to the most broad of audiences so that means not supporting anything slightly left of center. Having to deal with ads sucks from the creator perspective and does not help them in the long run.

Anyway, this is all a bit rambling, but these are my thoughts on WatcherTV. I'm extremely excited to subscribe and make them make more Weird Wonderful World. I hope to see you all there.

#watcher #steven lim #ryan bergara #shane madej

[luveline]

hiii could I please request miguel walking in on reader crying in secret?? ty!! :)))

thank you for requesting! fem!reader, 1.2k

It takes Miguel half an hour to fix your spider suit, but when he picks his head up from his work desk with a brag waiting on his lips, you aren’t there. He hadn’t noticed you slinking away. Perhaps he should’ve, given his fantastic sixth sense and his habit of awarding you special attention, just you’re quiet when you want to be. 

He sends you a short message through his wristwatch. Where are you? delivered 7:58PM. 

No response. Miguel folds your suit into a square and holds it under his arm, flicking off his workbench light as he rolls his neck from one side to the other. He wanted to finish the repairs before nightfall so as not to disrupt your routine. He quite likes your routine together. In a stressful life, time spent with you is peace he doesn’t deserve. You aren’t a peaceful girl, of course, you’re his idiot, but he knows the stark difference of having you versus not having you. 

He can’t track you without your suit on and your watch doesn’t have that capability, but he can ping your phone. 

You’re in the building still, at least. 

He texts you. Where did you go? I fixed your suit. It’s dinner time soon. 

Loosely translated, it means, Why did you leave? We always eat dinner together. 

Miguel sighs and decides to check the most obvious places first. The alcove of the hallway leading to the laboratory where you like to hide, the arts lounge, the atrium where your friends hang out, and the outdoor area right at the surface of the society. By 8:30PM he’s agitated wondering where you’ve gone, because he should probably know, but he’s not a great boyfriend and you’re not always as honest as you claim. You could be anywhere. You could be with someone nicer. 

He’s pissed. With no choice but to admit defeat, he decides he’ll head up to bed (he’s not going to bed, he’s gonna find you, because you can go wherever you like whenever you like but it’s been a long time since you disappeared without telling him). He cares about you too much, even if he wishes sometimes he didn’t. Not because of you. 

He sulks into the apartment (his apartment, your apartment, you were never supposed to live with him but here you tend to stay), throwing his phone and command pod onto the made sheets of the bed. 

The shower drips in the bathroom. He can hear the plink of water dripping onto the floor, a slow, dysrhythmic pattering. Two seconds, a drop. Three seconds, your breathing. 

He startles. You’re shuddering, a sharp inhalation, that strange sound you make when you’re overwhelmed without being smothered by his shoulder. “Stop,” you say under your breath. Another harsh breath, and a pained whine to follow. 

Miguel has never crossed a room so quickly. For a moment he thinks there must be someone else there, not a fully realised theory but an instinct —you’re telling someone else to stop, because someone is hurting you, because you aren’t alone. But he can hear only your heart, and your breath. So he stops cold by the door without bursting in and forces himself to knock. 

“Mi cielo?” he asks, aiming for tenderness, roughness seeping through. He knocks the door. “I’m coming in, okay?” 

Miguel doesn’t realise the door is locked until he’s cracked the doorframe. 

You stare at him in shock. Tears fall fast but quiet down your cheeks, thick streams of them, the kind to accompany gutted sobbing. 

“What’s wrong?” he says, his chest falling. “What’s wrong? Y/N, tell me. Tell me,” he prompts, secretly terrified at your tears and your quiet. He sounds demanding instead. 

“I’m fine,” you say.

“No you’re not.” He speaks before you can deny it again, not sure what to make of your teary voice or the way you’re smiling; trying to hide. 

“It’s okay–”

“It’s not okay, mi cielo,” —he takes your hand if only to be touching you— “you're crying.” 

“You weren’t supposed to see,” you say, closing your eyes. 

Tears squeeze their way out unbidden. Miguel reaches to his right for the toilet paper and pulls off a few sheets, bundling them in his palm. Careful, hesitant, he brings the corner to your face and begins to dry your tears from your cheeks, your chin, the wet line running down to your t-shirt and then back to your eyes. He shushes you as you shudder, “Shh, lovely. Everything will be fine. Everything… Todo va a estar bien.” 

“It’s fine,” you whisper tightly. 

“It’s fine,” he echoes, much more kindly, though he’s no closer to understanding why you’d locked yourself away to cry so intensely. “Tell me what’s wrong, yes? You tell me what’s upset you.” 

“It’s nothing–”

You try to persuade him but end up sounding even more upset than you had, shaking your head from his touch, receding backward toward the sink. 

“Why won’t you talk to me?” he asks gently. 

“It’s so stupid, Miguel, you weren’t supposed to know.” 

He’d say it was unlike you to be secretive with your feelings. You love loudly, tease louder. You’re spirited and petulant when you feel like it and you’re constantly barraging him with cheerfulness he doesn’t deserve, so why doesn’t your unwillingness to share this with him surprise him? 

“But I know now,” he says, bending to be your height, to meet your tired eyes, “and I want to know what’s wrong so I can make you feel better. Can you let me do that?” 

“I don’t feel very well.” 

Miguel can only handle so much. He uses some of his added strength to wrap you up in a full body hug, your toes struggling to stay on tiptoes and then completely off the ground as he leans back under your weight. “I know,” he says, though he hadn’t, “it’s okay, cariño, I’m here. I’m gonna take care of you.” 

You’re all softness in your off-duty clothes. The rolled neck of a worn t-shirt, your naked arm curling behind his neck and your thighs to his. He doesn’t keep you up for more than a few seconds, just enough to take your weight and hopefully save you the energy it’s taking to stay upright. You sag against him as your socks touch down again. He’s the one thing keeping you standing, and he doesn’t mind. You should know that already. 

“Please,” he says emphatically, “don’t cry by yourself. You have to let me know.” 

“Sorry.” 

He moves his head from one side to another slowly, his nose rubbing along your hairline. “Don’t be sorry. But if I don’t know, how am I supposed to fix it for you?” 

“You shouldn’t have to.” 

“Are you kidding?” He encourages your head back tenderly to meet your eyes. “That’s what we do, hmm? What do you think?” 

You smile. Still sad, still watery-eyed, but a real smile. “Yeah.” 

“Alright. Let’s go sit down, okay? I’ll get you a drink.” 

“So weird,” you murmur. 

“I’m weird?” 

“You’re being really nice to me.” 

Miguel squeezes your arm. “Don’t get used to it, Spider-Girl.” 

#miguel and spidergirl reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara scenario #miguel ohara blurb #miguel ohara oneshot

[me-writes-prompts]

:-Sweet caring prompts-:

(screaming, crying, throwing up. But, yeah, tag me and my sad single life :)

By @me-writes-prompts

Kissing them as they whisper 'I love you's repeatedly

Cooking them their favourite dishes

^^ “How is it? Do you like it?” “Yes, but maybe you could put a little more salt to it…or else, it’s great! My fave<333”

Decorating their bedroom with their favourite things to surprise their partner

^^ “Oh. My. God. You did not do this!!! I love it, baby! Thank youuuu” (I feel so single please😤)

Giving them soothing messages when they get back from work

Telling them that it's okay to rest and that they are there for them

Slow dancing to music while the other one silently laughs because they think it’s so silly

Preparing little gifts like flowers or homemade chocolates or even a cute little letter!

Doing their chores for them when they are too tired to do so

“I’m really sorry I forgot to do the laundry. I promise I’ll do it after my work is finished.” “No, it’s okay. I did it for you. Don’t worry, love.”

Tying their tie

Forehead kisses>>>>

Making a bath for them

Getting their favourite cup of coffee in the morning

^^"You know just how I like my coffee. That's why I love you so much." "Is it only because of the coffee???" *squints eyes teasingly* "No, you silly!"

Sharing their things, such as beauty products or food/drinks

Holding them in their arms because they both need the warmth and the reassurance of each other(<3333333)

#writers on tumblr #prompt list #writeblr #imagine your otp #otp prompts #otp writing #writing prompts #story prompt #dialogue prompts #otp stuff #otp meme #otp tropes #soft prompts #love prompts #fluff prompts #writing inspiration #creative writing #writing advice #writing tips #me-writes-prompts #domestic fluff #romance prompts #fluff #writing ideas #strangers to lovers #friends to lovers #writing #enemies to lovers #writing inspo #otp

[okay-babe]

Can we get an Alastor fic with the "shag me" prompt at 1,400 words please?? I would love to see some taunting/almost a little mean Al with a fem reader if possible! Ty!!

Your Ruin

tags: alastor x fem! reader, smut, semi-established relationship, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, top alastor, semi-mean alastor, teasing, 18+ only note: I have stared at this fic for days now unsure of whether I like it or not, but I figure it's high time it sees the light of day. I hope you enjoy, anon <3 (P.S. I went a little bit overboard with the word count).

"Go on now, spread those legs for me, chère. That's it, just so."

Alastor all but purred, his tone teasing as he watched you intently from his arm chair across the room, red eyes trained on your every move as you slowly exposed yourself to him.

From where you sat, the overlord was almost intimidating even in spite of his arousing intentions, his legs spread wide and his elbows poised atop his firm thighs, allowing him to rest his head upon his hands as he leaned forward as if to study you further.

You squirmed a bit from where you sat upon the sinner's bed, leaning back slightly on your forearms as the man sitting before you had instructed, thighs parted and knees up so high that your toes only just barely grazed the duvet beneath you.

Unconsciously, as the intensity of your lover's gaze increased with his new position, you lessened the gap between your legs ever so slightly, cheeks hot as you averted your eyes to the wall to your left, your mind occupied with thoughts of some of the familiar decor there in an effort to distract yourself, when...

"Wider."

Alastor demanded lowly from where he sat, shocking you back into your own body with a start.

His smile had darkened now, and you watched as he reached up to undo his bow tie with fingers that you knew from experience had a great deal of skill.

His eyes were trained on your own as he slowly removed the fabric from his collar, switching his attention to the cuffs of his dress shirt once he had done away with it, leaving it discarded upon the arm of the chair upon which he sat so regally before you.

Feeling almost fearful and yet all too eager for what was to come next, you quickly did as you were told, spreading your legs further than they had been even prior to your slip up in an effort to show your utter devotion to the man sitting across from you.

Alastor, doubtlessly taking note of your obvious desire to please, chuckled in response to your actions as he slowly rose from his seat, his steps measured and purposeful as he made his way over to the bed upon which you were so graciously presenting yourself to him.

"Lovely."

The overlord commented as he neared, tongue peeking out from between his lips to lick at them subtly, his gaze trained heavily upon the junction between your slightly aching thighs, no doubt taking in the sight of what awaited him there, hot and sticky and his.

Always his.

When he finally got close enough to actually place his hand upon your knee, you very nearly whimpered at the contact, eyes all but glued to his as he slowly raised them from your aching cunt, dragging them over your body as he went.

"Did you need something from me, my sweet?"

He crooned mockingly as he slowly brought the hand that wasn't resting upon your bent knee up to your face, allowing his middle and index fingers to trail lightly over the bare flesh of your neck and chest until he reached his destination, cupping your jaw in a manner that felt almost reverent as you panted slightly beneath him.

In response to the sinner's teasing, you nodded quickly, throat dry and breaths coming fast as you arched into the touch of your lover, watching him smirk at the sight.

"Hmm, how needy."

He purred, his hand leaving your knee as he leaned closer, slotting himself between your thighs, hips now just inches away from your own as he allowed his breaths to fan against your ear. He relished in the resulting shivers that erupted across your skin in response.

Again, you nodded, not quite caring about the fact that you hadn't even been asked a question in the first place, mind so clouded by lust and desire that you could scarcely even bring yourself to think of anything else outside of the man standing between your legs.

Alastor hummed in response to your desperate affirmation, smirk only growing as he moved to lean in even closer, allowing his lips to graze your own as he spoke.

"Well in that case, my dear, there's only one question left to ask, isn't there?"

He murmured, eyes alight with mischief as he continued, his hand keeping your head in place even as you squirmed relentlessly beneath him, seeking a relief that you knew would not come until he chose to give it to you.

"What is it that you need?"

He asked quietly, watching with a pleased expression as you huffed ever so slightly at his query, no doubt frustrated by his seemingly relentless teasing.

That said, it seemed that your desperation far outweighed any frustration you may have felt, because only mere seconds after those words passed Alastor's lips, you were absolutely preening for him.

"You Al, please!"

You began with a soft whine, hips rolling helplessly beneath him as your chest rose and fell with each heaving breath you took.

"Need you s'bad."

Your words were coming out quickly now, melding together ever so slightly as your body tensed and trembled at the idea of what was to come, body equally as desperate for relief as your poor lust addled mind.

Alastor gave a contemplative hum in response, one that immediately had you opening your mouth once more in preparation to plead your case further, recognizing the signs of further teasing long before they could actually come.

Except this time, it seemed your lover had another trick up his sleeve.

As your lips parted in needless protest, Alastor chuckled wickedly as he brought the hand that had once rested so gently upon your knee down to your wet heat, circling your hole with his middle finger once, twice, three times before suddenly plunging it inside of you without warning.

"Ah!"

Immediately, you gasped in response, mouth dropping open further at the unexpected sensation as your hands moved to claw at the sheets beneath your body, shaky arms barely keeping you upright all the while.

Alastor grinned wickedly down at the sight before him, his eyes fixated on your greedy cunt as it eagerly sucked his finger in over and over again, until he offered a second that your wetness took with ease.

You whined loudly at that, the feeling of fullness causing your cheeks to burn and your hips to buck with every thrust of his curled fingers, which doubtlessly sought out that spongy part inside of you that always made you sing his praises like the pretty bird you were.

"A-Al..."

You whimpered, head falling back upon your shoulders as your body trembled with effort, a sight which had your lover tutting mockingly before he moved to adjust your position, looping his free arm beneath one of your still bent knees and spreading you out wider for him, allowing his still pumping fingers even further access to your weeping hole, a fact which the overlord was quick to use to his advantage.

You gasped as he swiftly sunk himself down to the knuckle, using the increased room between your thighs to press his thumb firmly against your swollen clit as he did so, providing you with a friction that had you choking on your own moans in seconds, hips moving in a manner that made it impossible to tell if you wanted for less or more.

Alastor chuckled, placing his knee upon the bed beside you as he leaned forward, looming over your quivering form with an increasingly hungry look in his eye.

"Oh my poor, sweet, pathetic, little doe,"

He began, curling his fingers further into that one particular spot inside of you until he felt your slick walls start to clench and convulse around them. And then suddenly, without any warning at all, he removed them entirely, leaving you empty and keening for him.

Alastor groaned at the sight of your obvious misery and need, the knowledge that he had worked you into such a mess causing the ache between his legs to worsen even as he pulled himself free from the confines of his slacks, the tip of his cock already dribbling precum as he pressed himself against your tight heat with a hiss of pleasure that soon morphed into a full on growl as he pushed himself inside of you.

And just as he'd anticipated, after a few agonizingly slow yet incredibly deep thrusts of his hips, and a few taps to your already abused clit, you came completely undone around him.

The overlord let out a groan as you creamed around his cock, your slick already making a mess of your plush thighs.

He watched as you whimpered and writhed beneath him for a few more moments, a clearly feigned and teasing sympathy coloring both his expression and tone alike as he opened his mouth to finish his thought from before,

"I do so adore ruining you."

He crooned, his look of utter satisfaction obvious as he began to move faster, eyes trained on your tight hole as he watched you swallow him up over and over again.

#alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #.writes #requests

[sunkissed-zegras]

"it's 2am. you can't keep coming over this late." / "why? you're never asleep either." with luke! 🌱 ty

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 | lh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 873

♡ ─ warnings | luke not feeling like he's good enough, y/n cheers him up

♡ ─ ev's notes | i hope y'all enjoyed!

You heard a soft knock on your dorm room door, prompting a quiet sigh to escape your lips. Setting aside your textbook, you rose from your chair and made your way to the door, its hinges creaking softly as you opened it. The sight of a tall, curly-haired figure standing outside didn't surprise you.

"Luke? It's 2 am. You can't keep coming over this late," you remarked with a hint of exasperation.

Luke merely shrugged in response. "Why not? You're never asleep either."

You crossed your arms, shooting Luke a disapproving look. "That doesn't mean anything," you replied, glancing at the dimly lit hallway to make sure no one else was disturbed by the noise.

Luke leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on his face. "Come on, I brought snacks," he said, holding up your favorite chips and soda.

Despite your initial annoyance, you couldn't resist a small smile. "You're lucky I'm hungry." You muttered, stepping aside to let him in. As he entered, you couldn't help but notice the tired look in his eyes.

"What's going on?" You asked, closing the door behind him.

Luke flopped down onto your roommate's unoccupied bed, letting out a sigh. "Couldn't sleep. Thought we could hang out for a bit," he admitted, popping open a soda can.

You sighed, realizing that something was bothering him. "Alright, what's up, Luke? What's on your mind?" you asked, taking a seat across from him.

Luke hesitated as he looked up to meet your gaze. He sighed and shook his head, he couldn't hide anything from you no matter how hard he tried.

"I just..." He started, not knowing exactly where to begin. "Everything is happening too quickly. I feel I just started at Michigan and now everyone's sayin' I'm going to New Jersey, that my future's so bright but... I don't know." He shrugged again, nervously bouncing his leg against the bed.

You leaned forward, your expression softening with empathy. "It's a big step, Luke," you said gently, "Leaving behind what's familiar and stepping into something new can be scary."

His restless leg slowed as he listened, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "Yeah, exactly," he replied, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's what I've been working towards, but... it's just hitting me all at once, you know?"

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I know but everyone knows you're gonna do great, you're already the star of Michigan, you're gonna the star on the Devils, too."

Luke stayed quiet for a moment before letting out a sigh. "What if I'm not?" His voice was quiet as he spoke, he sounded so vulnerable. "Everyone thinks I'm gonna do great things, just like Jack and Quinn but what if I can't? What if I'm not as good as them? What if it all goes downhill after this?"

Taking a moment to choose your words carefully, you reached out to gently place a hand on his. "Luke, listen to me," you began, your voice steady and reassuring. "You are not your brothers, and you don't need to be. You're your own person, with your own talents and strengths."

Luke's gaze remained fixed on the floor, his thoughts seemingly trapped in a whirlwind of anxiety. "But what if I'm not good enough?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your grip on his hand tightened slightly, your reassurance unwavering. "You are more than good enough, Luke. What if it all doesn't go downhill? What if this is the start of something great, Luke? You're great at hockey and everyone knows that, that's never gonna disappear."

Luke's eyes slowly lifted to meet yours, a hint of vulnerability still lingering in his gaze. As you continued to hold his hand, you spoke with determination.

"You've worked endlessly to get to where you are, and that's not by accident," you said, your words carrying a sense of belief. "You've earned every opportunity because of your skill and passion for the game."

He took in your words, and a subtle shift occurred in his expression. "What if I disappoint everyone?" Luke questioned, his doubt still present.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You won't, Luke. You've got a support system that believes in you, not just because of your last name but because of who you are. And if there are tough times, we'll face them together, okay?"

Luke's lips curved into a small smile as he gazed at you, your heart flipping as he looked at you like you were the best thing in the entire world.

"Okay," Luke replied, his smile growing more genuine.

Encouraged by his response, you leaned back, your hands now resting on your own lap. "Look, no one expects you to have it all figured out," you continued. "What matters is that you're taking steps forward, and we're all here for each other through it all."

The tension in Luke's shoulders seemed to ease further, and he nodded in agreement. "I'm lucky to have you around, you know?" he admitted, his voice sincere.

"Yeah, you are." You said in a joking manner, causing a quiet chuckle to come out of Luke's mouth. "Now, do you wanna watch some movies?"

"Yeah, let's do it."

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey #nhl oneshot #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes blurb #jack hughes #new jersey devils #njd #nj devils #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x oc

[b0ng05]

Sam Carpenter x F! Reader - Mornings Like This MDI 18+

Word Count: 2013

Prompt: Sam Carpenter and her girlfriend being silly and making breakfast.

Warnings: Strap-on, a little bit of degradation, poor jokes I wrote in when I was stoned.

Also, not Proofread. Masterlist

I woke up to a crack of light peering through my curtains. The light blinding my eyes for a few seconds as I rub the sting away. I take a deep breath, stretching out my stiff limbs. As I arch my body in an ‘Excorcist’ type way, I catch a glimpse of Sam sleeping beside me. She laid on her stomach, a pillow tucked between her arms and head. Her dark hair sprawled out wildly along the pillowcase. A bit of drool pooling from her chin to the fabric as she slept. Half of the covers thrown from her body, assumably from her getting too warm at night. Most of her back on display as she usually slept in her sports bras, last night being no acception. I smile as I begin to climb out of bed, deciding to wake up Sam with breakfast, despite my poor cooking skills. As I stand up, the fluffy covers fall from my body, leaving me cold. Being too lazy to search the floor for my shirt, I walked to the kitchen. The cold air didn’t end in my bedroom, the thin fabric of my bra not doing much for my temperature.

I walked over to the cupboard, grabbing out a pan and two plates. I grabbed out the bacon and eggs from the fridge. I decide to start on the bacon first, knowing that I sucked at multitasking. Cutting open the package, I throw some bacon on the pan, hearing the initial sizzle and smiling, thinking about how great a cook I am. What I didn’t think about was what the sizzle meant. Within a few minutes, I’m being shot with bacon grease. Every second was me hissing in pain and cussing out the bacon for being such a rude bitch. With each insult, the bacon fought back, for each cuss, a shot of bacon grease to the tit.

“We have shirts, and aprons. You are aware of that right?” I hear a raspy teasing chuckle from behind me, and the feeling of strong arms wrapping around my bare waist. I smile as I feel her lips pressing against my neck in a tired yet loving way. “I’m aware, but I was gonna bring you this in bed, and then ask for you to kiss my bacon burns better.” I tease back, leaning into her touch as I use the tongs to take out some of the finished pieces. “Oh really? And where are these bacon burns?” Sam playfully pokes my side, her voice filled with sleep. I giggle and turn off the stove top as I finish up cooking. “Got a lot on my boobs,” I tease, not missing the mischevious glint in Sam’s eyes as they drift down to my chest. I playfully slap her shoulder, “My eyes are up here,” I tease, Sam chuckles, kissing my cheek. “ Also, what are you even doing up this early? I wanted to surprise you.” I pout up at her, trying to fight a grin that pricked my lips. “Well, I heard you cussing out the bacon. Did you seriously call the bacon, ‘Fucking whore, bitchwad’? What does that even mean?” Sam grins, her eyebrow quirking up. I sheepishly look up at the ceiling, which was a mistake due to Sam’s taller height. She easily grabs my chin, tilting my face towards her, my cheeks a blushing red. “Listen- the bacon just isn’t cool like that.” I sigh, smiling as I hear her laugh. “God, you’re a dork.” Sam whispers and pauses before kissing me. Her lips pressing against mine in a soft loving way. We pull apart, our foreheads pressing against each others. She lets out a content sigh before whispering softly,

“Please let me finish cooking. That bacon didn’t do anything wrong,” She peeks her eyes open, a mischievous smirk on her lips. “Oh woww, seriously taking the bacon’s side?” I let out a playful scoff, glaring up at her. “There was no witness to testify otherwise,” Sam quipped, a grin on her lips as she slips one of the aprons out of the drawer, tying it around her body. “The red skin on my tits says otherwise!” I huff, taking my seat on the countertop. Sam smirks and holds out her hand for the spatula that sat beside me, I playfully and passive aggressive pass her the spatula with a heavy sigh. “Oh really~? Care to let me see the evidence, preferably in full view, minus the bra.” She hums, glancing at me with a grin. I playfully roll my eyes, playing into her little game. “I actually might need you to do it. Wouldn’t it be corrupting evidence if you let the plaintiff do such a thing?” I giggle, leaning back against the cupboards as I watch Sam cook the eggs.

“Oh, very good point. I think you’re right. Let me just-” Sam smirks, turning off the burner before stepping between my legs. Her hands caressing my thighs, “May I~?” She teases, lifting one hand to snap one strap of my bra. “Go ahead, find the evidence,” I tease, giggling a bit. Sam bites her bottom lip as she slips my bra over my head. She pauses, licking her lips as she eyes my bare chest. “I don’t see any marks yet,” Sam playfully teases. I smirk, running one of my hands through her hair. “What do you mean yet? I already cooked the bac-” My breath hitches as she leans down, her tongue tracing along my breast before she sucks down, her eyes looking up into mine as she leaves a hickey on my chest. Her tongue running along the red mark soothingly before she kisses the spot. “Now we can sue the bacon,” I joke, looking at the mark on my chest. “How? I made it.” Sam chuckled, her hand moving up to grope at my chest. “Haven’t you ever heard of faking evidence, with a blind and senial enough jury, we could totally have a lawsuit on our hands.” I giggle, leaning in to kiss her jaw. Sam laughs, her other hand trailing my spine. “Remind me to never let you be my lawyer.” Sam nods, leaning in to kiss my collarbone. “Hey! I’d be a great lawyer, I’m pro-bono!” I laugh, Sam’s kisses end abruptly as she chuckles. “Oh really? You’d take my case for free?” Sam teases, moving her hands to playfully squeeze my waist. “Of course.” I nod, ”And I’m feeling especially pro-bono at the moment, so if you take me back to our room, I will take your case, and I’ll take it so well.” I tease, my tone both on the verge of laughing and still trying to drift seductive.

“How big of a case are we talking here~?” Sam teases back, lifting me off the counter as she begins to walk us back to our room. “5 month long trial, 7 month, 10 if I’m feeling a bit ambitious-” I laugh, leaning in to kiss her neck. “If you’re this pro-bono, should I be worried about other clientel?” Sam teases, gently laying me on the bed and pining me down. My hands tangled up with one of hers near the pillows. “I’m more of a private personal lawyer, you know you’re my one and only client.” I whisper, leaning up to kiss her neck. “Good girl,” She smirks, “Stay put,” She demands, before getting out of the bed and walking to our closet. After a minute, she comes out naked, with a 7 inch strap around her hips. She saunters up to the bed, standing at the foot as I look at her helplessly, my thighs clenching as she smirks down at me. “Now,” She moves to loom over me, “I don’t intend to waste the breakfast you so kindly started for me, so I’m gonna go fast, and you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are,” Sam whispers, gently biting my neck as her hands move to tug down my shorts and panties. I shiver as the cold air of the room reaches my core with Sam spreading my legs. She reaches down, running her fingers along my slit before slipping two into my core with ease. Her fingers showing no mercy as she begins speeding her movements, her thumb playing with my clit. She smirks down at me, watching as I use all my willpower to keep my hands above my head where she left them.

“Taking my fingers so well~” She whispers, kissing along my neck. The heat in my core begins to build, but before I can reach a satisfying release, she pulls her fingers from my core. “Let’s see how well you can take my cock,” She teases, her hand, wet with my juices, reaches down and jerks the silicon dildo, spreading my slick along it. She positions the head at my entrance, pushing in with no hesitation. My mouth falls into a silent cry as she stretches me out, each inch writhing my body with pleasure. My hands accidentally leave the pillow, clutching around her shoulders. As she bottoms out inside me, she gives me a second to get used to the intrusion. “What did I say?” She hums, grabbing my hands and pining them back down with one hand. She gives a particularly harsh thrust at the disobedience. I let out a loud moan, the stretch aching a bit, but the pleasure far overrode it. “T-to stay put,” I mumble, to which she leans down and gently bites at my chest. “I can’t hear you, honey,” Sam whispers. I let out a soft moan as she attaches her lips around my nipple, her tongue swirling around it. Her hips slowly and gently swirling as she hums, waiting for an answer. “To stay put,” I say through a breathy moan. She chuckles softly, her free hand groping at my other breast as her mouth moves to kiss my neck. “Are you gonna stay put or am I gonna have to let that breakfast go to waste?” Sam teases, being to thrust at a slightly faster pace, but nothing to push me anywhere close near the edge. “I’ll be a good girl, Sammy,” I whisper, my tone a bit desperate as I bite down on my lower lip. My eyes drifting to where our bodies connect. Watching as she begins to thrust faster, the sight of her sinking her strap deep inside me. Her hand moves from my breast to my chin, making me meet her eyes as she speeds up. “You like seeing me wreck you baby~?” Sam smirks, her tone a bit breathless. Her eyes a dark with lust as she goes harder, making me let lose a whorish moan. “Of course you do,” She lets out a soft groan as angle rub the strap back against her clit. “Such a slut for me, such a good fucking girl,” Sam growls, giving a harsh thrust with each statement. Pulling out till just the head was at my entrance before thrusting fully back in. Leaving me breathless and writhing beneath her as I hold her hand with mine above my head. “Gonna cum, Sammy~!” I moan loudly, my thighs beginning to tremble with the force and pleasure of her thrusts. “Cum for me, baby,” Sam lifts one of my legs onto her shoulder and increases her pace, letting out soft grunts and groans as the strap rubs better against her clit at the new angle. “Be a good girl and cum on my strap.” I let out a loud moan as the heat in my stomach explodes, my cunt pulsing around her strap as she fucked me through my orgasm. I tug my hands from her grasp and wrap them around her shoulders. “How about I order breakfast?” Sam suggests sedutively, still a bit breathless. I let out a small chuckle and smirk up at her mischeviously, “What? Pro-bono?” I joke with a giggle, but that’s ended quickly when Sam presses the strap deeper, making me all the more aware of my current place.

#sam carpenter #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter smut

[milksnake-tea]

helloo ! congratulations on ur 1k followers - ur writing is absolutely amazing ! may i request for ur event..dan feng + angst prompt 1 + angst dialogue 2 ? (please go easy…)

ty !! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

❀ ˎˊ- prompts: When they had to choose between you and the city, they chose the city. + "Please, stay. Just… stay." ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: dan feng ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: u get abandoned for approx 10 minutes LMAOAO also maybe ooc... altho can u really be ooc about a character who had like 5 minutes of screentime and it was through villainizing lenses ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: THE WAY I GIGGLED AT THIS ASK... TBH IM NOT TOO SATISIFIED W HOW THIS CAME OUT BUT ITS OKAY I STILL LIKEY

Dan Feng was a man bound by his duty.

The title of Imbibitor Lunae did not come without mandates - on the contrary, it came with chains and shackles. Trapped with an obligation to his planet, it was a wonder how he even managed to secure a lover, with all the eyes on him.

He can never be selfish in the eyes of public, devoting everything he has to his people, from the scales on his tail to the tips of his horns. Only when he is with you can he be greedy, pressed against your body as he holds you like his most precious treasure.

But even so, you've always known that in the end, you were nothing compared to the Luofu. You've always known, but you always shoved it in the corner of your heart in favor for a sweet embrace with your lover.

So when Dan Feng turns his back on you, you aren't shocked like you expect. Your heart doesn't sting with betrayal, and the tears that trickle down your face are from your body being crushed rather than your heart.

The only thing you can feel is a dull ache in your chest, the light fading from your eyes as you realize that he isn't coming back.

Your vision is blurry as his silhouette fades into the sunset, the glint of his jade spear all the more familiar to you. And still, you reach for him, despite knowing that he won't look back - he never does, in times of crisis.

Ah.

You should really get out of here.

A mocking laugh bubbles in your chest, burning against your raw throat as you laugh hollowly. What a fool you were, and a selfish one too, to really expect him to save you when the entirety of the Luofu was in danger. You were just one of millions in the Alliance, a single drop in the boundless sea.

It hurts.

You click your tongue, letting out a frustrated sigh as you pull yourself up from the debris. Your legs scrape against the rubble as you drag them out, one after the other. Closing your eyes, you lean against a slab of concrete, and wait.

You don't have to wait long.

The sound of flowing water and silk sleeves alerts you of the return of your lover. Your fingers twitch, but you're too exhausted to open your eyes. You hear Dan Feng let out a strangled gasp before the familiar cloth of his embrace pulls you into him.

The terrified whimper of your name strikes deep into your heart as Dan Feng's cloudhymm magic swirls around your wounds.

"No," he grits out. You can imagine his expression right now, eyebrows furrowed and tears glistening in his cerulean eyes - tears that will never break and flow. "Great Long, please, not them too..."

"Calm down, Dan Feng," you chuckle wearily, managing to open your eyes just a bit. The image of your lover is still blurry, but you can make out the teal of his horns, glowing with power as he strives to save you. "From the way you're talking, I might as well be on my death bed."

Relief washes over Dan Feng as you speak, his hand cradling your face as he meets your gaze.

"You almost were," he whispers. "If I hadn't left you, you wouldn't-"

"I'm stopping you right there," you quiet him, pressing a finger to his lips. "You had a battle to win. If you'd abandoned the Luofu for me, neither of us would be able to live with it."

But Dan Feng isn't a fool. He sees the hurt in your eyes, and he saw the way you reached out to him back then. It had killed him, having to leave you like that.

"I'm sorry for leaving you," he says. A smile slips onto your face.

You wanted to console him, and say it was okay - that everything was fine. But you couldn't bring yourself to lie like that. Instead, you opted for leaning your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into him as you once again closed your eyes.

"Just... stay," you murmured, feeling as the shock of the impact left you, leaving only exhaustion. Dan Feng's cloudhymm is soothing against your aching body, lulling you to rest.

Dan Feng nods, standing up as you doze off against his shoulder. You rock slightly as he carries you to shelter, but you couldn't care less. All you cared about was his temporary embrace, even if you would wake up to him gone once again.

After all, the battle still wasn't over. Dan Feng's shackles had yet to be broken. And until they were, he would have to leave you, over and over again.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #dan feng #dan feng x reader #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #archives 🏵️ #event 🏵️

[moremaybank]

HOME THIS CHRISTMAS — j.m

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader prompt: "i thought you were going home for christmas?" - "well, i couldn't leave you all alone." requested: here (ty @drewstarkeyslut) warnings: none naughty or nice ! ౨ৎ

When you first told JJ that you had to fly back home to visit your parents for the holidays, you could see the sorrow in his eyes. He tried his hardest not to let it show, throwing on the best smile he could and saying “That’s great, baby. I know you miss ‘em. I bet they’re thrilled.” 

What he really wanted to do was get on his knees, loop his arms around your legs like a child and beg and plead for you not to leave him. He couldn’t help it. Most of the time growing up, he’d duck out of his house, not too eager to spend quality time with Luke. Quality time in which Luke would spend being wasted out of his mind and souring the mood. John B always had Big John to celebrate with, and now he has Sarah. Kie would stay with her parents and possibly do something at The Wreck to give back during the festive season, and Pope would spend it with his parents as well. 

It’s not like they tried to leave JJ out. That’s just what ended up happening every year. 

But now that the two of you were together, he hoped that he’d finally get to experience Christmas with someone he loved.

Too bad the odds just weren’t in his favour. 

He moped, albeit internally (though you knew him far too well to believe that he was happy, or even simply okay). With the date of your departure rapidly approaching, he grew even more defeated. When you asked him about it, he knew he couldn’t lie to you. But he would just say that he was going to miss you. That he’d been excited to start new holiday traditions with you, but you won’t have the opportunity to do so. And while you argued that you could still do everything he’d planned out before and after you returned, you understood where he was coming from. 

It wouldn’t be the same. 

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t want you to worry about me. I get you all to myself for the majority of the year, you should be able to go visit your family without feeling guilty.” 

Your hands rub a path up and down his brawny arms. “You know, no matter how many times you say not to worry, I still will.” 

He smiles, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “‘N I love you for that, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let your guilt hold you back. You’re goin’.” 

And that was that. 

Or, at least, that’s what JJ thought. 

When JJ woke up on the twenty-third of December, the bed was cold and empty. There was no one scratching his back, kissing up the length of his spine and playing with his hair. No one whispered how pretty he looked as he slept, how tan he was in contrast with the white cotton sheets embracing him. 

His shower was even lonelier than the wake-up had been. Still, he forced himself to continue with his morning routine before begrudgingly getting himself to work. JJ never enjoyed work, but now that he couldn’t look forward to your daily visit…let’s just say he was no longer the ray of sunshine he always was in your company. 

The day dragged on, possibly the slowest he’d ever experienced. He waited for a text or call from you to ensure that you’d reached your destination with all your precious limbs intact. But hours went by, and he hadn’t heard from you. Worry bubbled in his chest, but he just told himself that you were reuniting with everyone, and you couldn’t find a second to pull yourself away from them. 

Meanwhile, you were running around ordering all of JJ’s favourite foods, buying matching pyjama sets and decorating your apartment. You hadn’t bothered to do so earlier since you were planning on being away, and truthfully, you didn’t want JJ to be surrounded by all the reminders of why you weren’t there. 

In hindsight, maybe it would’ve been better to make it homey for him. Especially now that you were on a massive time crunch. 

When you were done, you shot JJ a quick message. 

Hi, baby. Miss you. There’s a surprise waiting for you when you get home. I hope you like it ♡︎

Though he would’ve loved to hear your voice, joy washed over him once he read your message. You were so good to him. You had a habit of acting like a madman every time you had to travel, and in between freaking out the way he knew you were, you took the time out of your busy schedule to brighten up his day.

The drive home felt far too long. He wished for nothing more than to shower, crack open a few beers and chill. Smoke so he could fall asleep without you. 

On another note, his curiosity also ate away at him. He wondered what his crazy girl had left behind for him. 

He stepped inside your shared place, noticing a cast of light coming from the next room. Shit, he thought, she’s gonna kill me if I left the lights on again. But when he reached the room, there you were, wearing red plaid pyjamas and fuzzy socks, standing next to a large pile of presents in front of your brand-new pine tree. 

“What…What are you doin’ here? I thought you were goin’ home for Christmas?” 

You crossed the room, looping your arms around his back and looking up at him. You watched his blue eyes sparkle in the light. 

He’d never looked so delighted. Relieved. 

“Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone.”

“But, what about your family? They’re expectin’ you,” he spoke, though he pulled you into him further. “What if they hate me for making you stay here?”

Your head tilted, and your heart melted. He was so disappointed by the thought of having to spend Christmas by himself again, but the first thing that popped into his mind at the sight of you was the idea of your family being upset with him. 

He was too sweet for his own good. 

“You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to stay. It wouldn’t have been Christmas without you. As for my family — who do not hate you, by the way — they’re coming down in a few days. And they can’t wait to meet the boy who makes me happy.” 

He didn’t even respond. Not verbally, anyway. He simply gave you a shining grin, cupped your face and kissed the life out of you. 

Oh, yeah. Best decision ever. 

#꒰ — naughty or nice ౨ৎ ꒱ #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank one shot #jj obx #jj maybank obx #jj outer banks #jj maybank outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n #obx imagine #obx fluff #obx fic #obx one shot #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #outer banks imagine #outer banks fluff #outer banks fic #outer banks one shot #rudy pankow

[mncxbe]

Ow heck yeah, just read your announcement and I'm here to request for classic cheating dazai (spicy number 6) 🙇‍♀️ please bless us with your magic fics, thank you so much ily have a great dayyyy

this man is such a red flag I love him♡ ty for requesting sweet nonnie hope you have a wonderful day too

6 — Cheating on their girlfriends with you (TW: cheating)

Dazai's hips halt flush against your ass as he picked up the phone "Hey baby" he said casually, as if he weren't balls deep inside you right now "How was work?"

You could hear his girlfriend's chirpy voice on the other side of the line, telling him every silly little detail about her day and you huffed impatiently, looking over your shoulder to see Dazai's sly grin. The man raised a finger to his lips, signaling you to keep quiet as he experimentally rolled his hips against yours. Kneadind the fat of your ass with his free hand, he then trailed it down to your lower back, deepening your arch– moans slipped from your lips as the tip of his cock repeatedly hit your sweet spot.

"Keep it down, bella" he whispered, gathering your hair in a pony tail and hoisting your chest off the mattress. Using it as leverage Dazai picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours, ripping choked, breathy moans from you. "Aah fuck– 'samu"

Dazai, love, are you listening to me? Is everything ok?

"Yes, baby, don't worry I'm just a bit tired. Today's mission was pretty hard, but I promise we'll talk when I get home tomorrow" he mused, his eyes glued on the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock.

Oh okay then... I'll let you sleep. Goodnight Osamu, I love you. See you tomorrow

He hung up the phone without saying another word, throwing it on the crumpled sheets next to you. "What, 'samu? Aren't you gonna tell your girl you l-love her too ah shit—?" you taunted the man, earning a harsh slap on your ass. Dazai flipped you onto your back, pushing your thighs flush against your chest, his eyes taking in the sight of your slick cunt. He drew loose circles on your puffy clit with his thumb, relishing the way you writhed and mewled under him. You were so goddamn beautiful and sweet.

"Don't be silly, 'donna" he smiled, bringing his face closer to yours– his hot, ragged breath fanning over your lips as he eagerly slipped back inside you, his tip nudged snug against your sweet spot. When he started moving his thrusts were painfully deep, hungry, desperate even but his gaze held nothing but affection for you "She can go fuck herself, 'donna. You're the only girl I love"

prompt list૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑ #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd #bsd smut #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai smut #bungou stray dogs dazai

[erisenyo]

“Oh fuck oh FUCK” + Zukka please!

For this prompt game! (And also this one!) (And this one too lol)

Zuko isn’t sure what posses him to actually say yes when the last hotel calls back to regretfully confirm that there will be no vacancies tonight and the cute mechanic lets up the truly over-the-top flirting to half-shyly offer Zuko a place to stay that night—

“Well, not my house,” Sokka—not Hakoda, going by the wince when Zuko had called him that, even though that’s what’s embroidered over his pocket—says, tugging on his wolf tail, “It’s my dad’s house. But he’s away!” Sokka says, excited and quickly tacking on when he seems to hear himself, “He’s helping out my Gran Gran! So I’m house-sitting! And keeping this place going—”

He waves a hand around the auto shop, making Zuko intensely curious about what Sokka does if not this all the time. He looks good in those overalls...

Not that Zuko has the chance to ask.

“—and so don’t worry, there’s plenty of space. I’m not suggesting you stay in my room—or, well, actually it is my room, but from when I was a kid, not you know, my room. I don’t live there anymore—”

Zuko wonders where he does live, if it’s close to the band’s recording studio, or any of their homes, and Ty Lee is always renting apartments all over the place maybe Zuko could—

“—but it’s still a totally good room still, like quiet but not creepily so, you know? And you can stay there. Or not! Absolutely no pressure, like obviously if you want to keep calling hotels or I mean I guess we could make up the couch in the office, though I wouldn’t recommend it," Sokka adds, frowning at the couch in question. "You end up with this really weird crick in your—”

“Yes,” Zuko interrupts, "Yes, a place to say would be great," he says, putting Sokka out of his misery. Even though he’s been enjoying the rambling train of Sokka’s thoughts all day, and he really shouldn’t impose, and Zuko might feel comfortable after so many hours of Sokka trying to figure out Zuko’s car but he doesn’t actually know the guy, and—

Sokka breaks into a grin, wide and pleased and clearly delighted and Zuko’s stomach flips the way it’s been doing all day and right. Right. That. That’s why Zuko said yes, even though he knows it’s stupid, even though it would be easier to just ask for the guy’s number even if as a rule Zuko doesn’t give out his own. Even though Mai would take one look at Sokka and give Zuko one of those knowing looks of hers and he hates being so predictable but shit, this guy is such his type.

Which means he’s not disappointed when Sokka says, “Awesome, dude! We can grab burritos on the way back!”

Dude.

And burritos.

But Zuko’s not disappointed, he’s not. He’s…relieved. To have a place to stay tonight that’s not a dubious-looking couch, or the back of his own barely-fits-two-people car. And to not be recognized—not that he ever is—because the last thing he needs on top of his car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, meaning he’s absolutely going to miss his flight—shit, Uncle is going to be so disappointed…—is to be dealing with fans.

Pestering him for info about the rest of the Dangerous Ladies, or trying to sniff out rumors about the relationships they’re all convinced are happening within the band, or hating him for breaking Mai’s heart as if it wasn’t mutual and years ago anyway. and they’re still in the band so clearly it’s fine, Mai didn’t even write that song, and—

And it’s fine. Zuko doesn’t even know what he was worried about in the first place. For someone with a massive facial scar, he's proven shockingly unrecognizable without a flaming guitar in his hands. Which is fine. Exactly how he likes it.

So what if he almost never gets his own posters of magazine covers? So what if he's tucked off to the side or in the back of all the official merch and the band has a running collection of all the albums and magazine covers and t-shirts that inexplicably end up with a price sticker over his and only his face?

It’s better than getting mobbed every time he leaves the house like Azula and getting pelted with rumors like Ty Lee and having his every expression scrutinized like Mai. It's better than having every outfit analyzed and every tilt of his head breathlessly redescribed and every photo and appearance and sighting on the street turned into screenshots and phone backgrounds and gif sets and spank bank material, better than everyone he meets tripping to fall into his bed and—

Really. It’s better.

“Here it is, the humble abode!” Sokka gives Zuko an uncertain flash of a smile as holds open the door, like he thinks someone who drives a Porsche so tricked out Sokka had had to psych himself up to actually touch it is going to judge a well-loved ranch house, which…well. Maybe isn’t such a bad assumption.

Zuko hastily makes sure his expression is set into something attentive and interested, his June is talking face, as Azula calls it.

“You’ve got your kitchen here,” Sokka says, flicking on a light to show the worn, comfortable-looking space. “Glasses are over the sink, snacks are in the fridge and in the tall cabinet if you need anything. There’s some leftovers in the freezer you can reheat, too, if you want. Oven, microwave, all the good stuff, you just, you know. Hit the buttons, and—”

And Sokka is clearly back to nervous rambling, because Zuko doesn’t think he’s going to need to eat for the rest of the week after finishing that burrito. A fucking burrito. Ugh, if there’s ever a less sexy food, and then to eat so much of it nervously pacing Sokka that Zuko actually contemplated whether he could subtly unbutton his jeans in the car…

“…and the bedrooms are this way, and the bathroom—it’s shared, sorry,” Sokka adds, glancing back to give Zuko an apologetic look. Zuko hastily jerks his eyes up off Sokka’s ass. “Probably not what you’re used to, I know. But it’s just you and me, so it won’t be too bad!”

“It’s perfect,” Zuko says, trying for a smile and blinking when Sokka just coughs, a blush staining his cheeks as he quickly gets back to his tour.

“Extra blankets and stuff are here,” Sokka says, rapping on a closed door. “Towels, pillows, the works. There should be some extra shampoo and soap and stuff in there too, if you need it.”

“Sounds like you have everything covered,” Zuko says, hearing the awkward edge of his words but still trying to reach for some of the joking, playful easiness of earlier today. “Quite the full-service auto shop you’re running.”

“Uh…yeah.” Sokka freezes a little, eyes wide, which…great. Zuko isn’t surprised he missed the mark, but still. He thought he’s at least better these days than when Azula firmly told him he was no longer allowed to speak in interviews until he could be sure he wasn’t going to end up in another bloopers reel.

“Anyway!” Sokka finally says, shaking himself, his voice coming out suddenly squeaky, which— “Here’s your room, have a good night, make yourself comfy I’ll seeyoutomorrow!”

Zuko blinks again, nonplussed. Did Sokka just...run away? In his own home?

"That's that then," Zuko sighs ruefully—the flirting had been so outrageous that Zuko couldn’t quite believe it was actually real, so—giving the closed door Sokka had disappeared behind one last look before slipping into his room.

Which is very much a teenager’s room, holy—Zuko nearly laughs as he realizes why Sokka was so quick to make that clear. And a well-lived in one, at that, LEGOs on the shelves and cheap trophies for science fairs lined up across the dresser, half-faded posters and clipped-out pictures tacked over the walls and old art supplies still scattered over the desk.

It's cluttered and eclectic and...cute. Cute in the same way Sokka is cute, and he’d probably hate being called that which just makes Zuko want to do it even more, Zuko’s lips curled again into the little smile he feels like he's been wearing all day as he sprawls back on the neatly-made twin bed and immediately makes eye contact with himself.

On the ceiling.

Shirtless.

Life-sized.

Zuko’s mind immediately supplies the details—that Rolling Stones cover shoot for their third album, right before Zuko had turned twenty, when he was still somehow managing to keep up his martial arts training because who needed sleep, definitely not him. He and Ty Lee had been goofing off while Mai and Azula got their makeup finished, flexing their muscles and trying to out-flexible each other and the photographer had loved it and had them run with it, who could pose the most creatively with the most outrageously flexed muscles and —

Zuko slowly closes his mouth and rapidly reconsiders that whole ‘not recognized’ thing...

--

Sokka is giving his teeth the most thorough, most frustrated brush of his life—ugh, burritos. Why did he suggest burritos—when he nearly chokes on his toothpaste as he suddenly realizes that he just put Zuko Hua in his— “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.”

Oh…fuck.

Katara is never going to let him live this down.

He is so, so fucked.

#asks and answers #prompt games #Not me suddenly having inspiration that fit uhhh 3 months later lol #fic writing #my writing #Sokka #Zuko #Zukka #Zukka fic #Rockstar Zuko AU

[ellavatorz]

Fear Me || c.b. x reader

prompt: Colby is there for you when the Stanley hotel becomes too much.

tw/cw: violence, angst-y(?), mainly cute protective colby.

photo is not mine, found on Pinterest

a/n: this is for @tealeyewonder, ty for requesting this! it was fun to write & I hope you enjoy <3

*

It wasn’t long after you all had arrived that shit began to happen. In fact, it took exactly five minutes into filming for Amanda, Mackie and yourself to begin hesitating in proceeding with the investigation.

The guys—per usual—begged for you all to stick around just “a little longer!” And so here you five were; vibrating with adrenaline and high off of the aura that the hotel room reeked in.

“Colbs, I’m serious. Are you sure we should continue?” you and colby are isolated from the others, pressed against the entrance, just outside of the shared—and one of the infamously haunted—room 428.

He reaches a hand into your hair and tugs a lock behind your ear, breaking the silence with a gentle and monosyllabic “it’s fine.”

With an eye roll, you shovel your hands into the depths of your jacket’s pockets and drill your gaze into him. Seemingly prepared for your rebuke, Colby proceeds with a cautionary voice.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? It’ll just be for a few more hours and then if you really want to, we can find another hotel nearby and book it. Free of ghosts, alright?”

Sighing in defeat, you settle for his reassurance and choose to remain as calm as you can for the rest of the night in the hotel—albeit still littered with deafening ghost trails and paranormal activity.

*

Colby’s voice resonates around the room as he recites an excerpt from some sort of yelp review left by previous guests of the hotel. The girls and yourself huddle together in front of where he sits on the mattress, watching and listening intently.

“It’s said for a male entity to lean over female guests and..” he quirks a brow and chuckles before continuing, “tries to kiss them.”

“What?” You blurt, eyes enlarging in size before the other two girls are laughing. “Naughty ghosts!” You say jokingly.

“Maybe we should dress up as girls tonight?” Colby jokes, and you all begin to feel the air purify it’s way into peace as you continue.

Suddenly, you all decide to move toward the lone, dark and eerie corners of the Hotel, the staircase which is known for its Vortex.

There, Amanda retells a memory of having imagined an entity following Colby around. Shocked, you latch onto his arm and give him a shake.

“Shit, you’re gonna attract all the ghosts tonight!”

His face replicates mortification as the rest of you laugh cheerfully, silently wishing for the idea of your boyfriend having an attachment to fall through.

“There’s definitely someone here already but I can’t make out who it is exactly. They keep hiding behind the handrails.” Amanda states, pointing at the solid fixture just behind you and Colby. Mackey agrees with a hum and drags her gaze elsewhere.

“It feels.. strange.” You murmur, looking at yourself in the reflection of the mirrors. Colby appears behind you, circling your waist with his arms and smiling contently.

“Oh definitely, but look at how cute we look!”

“Colby.” You smack at his shoulder. “Really?”

“What? It’s true.”

“Alright I say we move back to the room and get some footage of the rem pod.” Sam appears from behind you two and the group agrees.

*

“Great,” colby says after he’s finished setting up the equipment. “Again, if anything comes and touches this device it’ll light up and make a bunch of noise.”

You all nod in understanding, deciding to stand a good distance away from the footing of the bed where the device lies. Instantly, the REM Pod goes off, the red light shining along with it.

“Hello?” Sam greets, mouth wide open in shock. “Do you recognize us? We’ve been here before..”

“Nah, he only cares about girls, man!” Colby jokes, though the device begins sounding off. The girls and yourself move back, stunned at the reaction.

“Holy shit, did it just agree with what you said?” You look over to Colby in surprise. He nods, just as startled as you.

“Do you like girls? Kissing them?” You ask, biting your lip in anxiousness.

The device goes off.

“Do you like us being here?” Amanda asks.

It’s silent.

The five of you share a look before Sam continues. “Can you do something to show us who you are? Are you Flora?”

You room stills, air suddenly thickening with something akin to a suffocating material being held against your face. You blanch are the feeling, trying your best to shake it off until there’s a bang just inches behind you.

The five of you turn in fear and you immediately dart to Colby’s side, feeling an intense amount of pressure in your head. “Okay guys, my head is seriously killing me.”

Mackie gasps, pointing a finger in your direction while moving closer to you. Colby wraps an arm around your middle, turning you to face him as he analyzes your features.

“Your nose is bleeding,” he notes aloud and you frown. “Are you okay?”

“No I just—I don’t know? I felt weird and then the noise happened.” You explain, holding a napkin to your nose that Mackie had gotten for you. Sam brings the camera close to your face, to which you scowl at.

“Dude, give me space will you?” You mutter and Sam apologizes, moving away and pointing the camera towards the other girls instead.

Colby worries his lip, chewing at the skin with a drive to settle his concern. You pat his shoulder, reassuring him that you’re fine.

The series of questions continue but still, your headache worsens and the air doesn’t feel any lighter.

“Did you follow us from somewhere else?” Sam questions. There’s a pregnant pause before the device begins going off. You make eye contact with Amanda as she steps forward to shut off the device.

“That’s enough,” she states firmly, eyeing the duo before requesting the cameras to be turned off. Sam agrees begrudgingly, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress along with Colby and Mackie. You and Amanda stand close, her hand wrapping around your wrist protectively.

“I don’t feel safe here anymore. I think we should take a break.” She says and Colby tilts his head, brows furrowed.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“There’s something here and I don’t want to talk about it.” Amanda huffs, looking towards the door. You distribute your weight from one foot to another anxiously.

“Maybe we could come back later? Let’s just take a breather outside—“

“Y/N, what’s on your arm?” Sam ponders and reaches to bring you closer to the flashlight.

You look down and notice a slew of thinly sourced abrasions on your forearm. “What the hell?”

“This isn’t right, we have to go.” Amanda urges, to which you all hurriedly concur, rushing for escape.

It’s when you’re one foot out of the door that you’re suddenly shoved and sent crashing into Colby’s back. Being the last one out, you physically startle and feel your hands beginning to tremble.

“I just—it just pushed me,” you stammer, eyes darting behind you to where the door to the room is shut. Amanda pulls you in close and recites a quick prayer before pulling you into her embrace.

After everything that had happened to you, Colby had had enough. His body began to boil with a protective instinct as he rushed back into the room, heart slamming against his chest.

“I dont care who you are or what you are, but you have no right to touch us. I didn’t give you permission and you sure as fucking hell don’t deserve it. You can’t follow us home and you better not follow us to any other location either.” He sneered, voicing his thoughts aloud to a visibly empty room.

“Colby,” Sam tries, placing a hand on his shoulder in attempt to pull him out, only to be shaken off and ignored when Colby continues.

“You could’ve touched me, hurt me, or whatever the fuck— but you touched Y/N and that’s where I draw the line. Get your disgusting ghoul fucking hands off of them and don’t ever touch them again.”

Staggering back with a winded breath, Colby returns to your side and holds you tightly between his arms. You reciprocate the action and try to smile, though it comes out as more of a lopsided grin.

“Thank you, colby.” You manage to utter from where he holds you against his chest. He sighs, clearly affected by your experience. You nudge him off gently before pulling him along with the rest of the group; moving to the entrance of the hotel without hesitation and making a beeline to the car.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Colby murmurs once you’ve all packed into Sam’s rented vehicle. You and Colby sit thigh to thigh in the farthest pair of seats. “I promised I would.”

“Colby, it isn’t your fault. Amanda didn’t even know what it was, so seriously.. you couldn’t have known that was going to happen.” You ease his worry with a hand to his leg, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into the fabric of his jeans.

“I just wish it didn’t happen that way. I wanted this to be fun for you. And.. and I was hoping we could’ve had a small investigation together at some point in the night.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess this was Colby’s attempt at convincing you that he’s fine. However, you know him all too well to know that his facade is weakening with every thought that washes through him. The pout in his voice is nearly visible before you’re leaning in to place a kiss to his cheek. Pulling his gaze to you by gripping his chin gently, you smile at him.

The soft look he shares with you is enough for you to see just how much love he holds for you in the blue ocean of his eyes. Inviting yourself to dive into him, you lean your head against his shoulder and pull his arm closer.

“You don’t always have to be the hero, Colby. I know you love and care about me, but there’s always going to be things that you just can’t protect me from.” You say, and feel his weight drop to comfort. Smiling to yourself, you squeeze his hand.

“I love you, and thank you for bringing me along today. Despite it all, I enjoyed my time spent hunting ghosts.. just.. maybe next time we won’t visit a spirit who seems to have it out for girls who are taken, hm?”

At that, Colby chuckles. His fingers intertwine with yours impossibly tighter and he leans down to kiss the crown of your head.

“I love you too. And I promise I won’t put you in any more danger. No more mean grumpy ghosts. Maybe just the creepy kid ones.”

“Sick, no.” Sam calls from the front of the car, and you all laugh.

#colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock #colby brock blurb #colby brock x you #sam and colby

[licorice-tea]

congrats on 100 followers! I just started reading your work because of ur prompt post and you do notttt disappoint!! soooo I want to request Zoro w lovers rock BUT SPECIFICALLY the end dialogue

“Now, how many men have you kissed?”

“Very few. “

“But you offered me a kiss. Why?”

“Such a foolish reason, I'm afraid. I just wanted to kiss you. “

- 🍙

Such A Foolish Reason

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Content: reader is usually kind of a flirt and Zoro is unsure of how much they actually like him!

Word Count: 0.6k

A/N: another request from my 100 follower event! ty for the submission @🍙 and i hope you like it! <3

You had already determined that Zoro wasn’t going to make the first move, no matter how glaringly obvious you made your feelings for him. The man was simply out of his breadth, and too unsure of how to navigate this sort of emotional territory. That didn’t through you off though; you still want him more and more every day. So eventually you had taken it upon yourself to initiate the first kiss, since you could barely contain the depth of your feelings for him any longer. Every moment around the swordsman is like a game of “will they? won’t they?” at this point.

But no matter how badly you desire Zoro, you can’t just dive straight into him into a kiss the way you want to. He’s not the kind of person to do things without being sure, and neither are you. Even something as simple as kissing would require a straightforward request and, hopefully, he would agree to it.

Ever so hesitantly, you turn to Zoro one starry night at sea. His sharp jawline is turned away from you, and his eyes are trained on the waves down below. You hate that he’s so concentrated on the ocean when you’re sitting right there, shoulder to shoulder with him. Because tonight, all you want is to be the focus of that intense stare.

“Zoro”, you whisper, and he responds with a grunt, “I have to ask you something.”

Finally, he turns to face you. His irises sweep across your starlit features, then come back to meet your own eyes. From the way your pupils are blown wider than usual and your soft, glossed bottom lip is being bitten under the top, he gathers that you’re nervous. It’s strange, for someone of your confidence and boldness. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

A furious blush ignites and burns across his cheeks in a matter of seconds. And though he’s unsure of how to respond in words, Zoro can at least nod.

Your palm finds its way over his jaw as you tilt his face so that it will align with yours. His skin is softer than expected; so soft that you give into the temptation to simply run your thumb across his cheek. It’s warm, which isn’t surprising given how pink he’s turned.

Zoro expects that you must have done this a thousand times to be able to touch him with such great care. To make him feel so strongly that his mind is scattered and he can barely get his thoughts in order. He’s engrossed in the feeling of you.

From your point of view, Zoro has simply gone quiet again. But you can feel the furious beat of his heart through his neck’s pulse-

“How many men have you kissed?” One of the thoughts manage to tactlessly slip out.

You immediately stop and hesitantly pull back “Very few.” Though your reputation as a heartbreaker precedes you, you rarely find yourself falling hard enough to do much of anything with the men you flirt with. Most of the time, it’s only to get things out of them; directions, supplies, etcetera.

This surprises Zoro. “But… You offered me a kiss. Why?”

The corners of your mouth curl upwards as you smile bashfully. “It’s a foolish reason, I’m afraid. I just…” You trail off with a shrug, and Zoro leans in- hooked on your every word. “Wanted to kiss you.”

And so, you do.

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro fanfiction #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro #zoro drabble #drabble

[qvrcll]

Hii. I just saw your works and I really love the writing<3. Anyways i saw ur taking requests and i really have one in mind.

So like vendetta leon was some sort of a mission (like something similar to the movie) and he Heard the virus had broken out to the city and the only thing he can think is the reader (I'd really love for the reader (which is a retired agent, to be preggy😭). Then he like straightly went to their house (or apartment) and the zombies have already broken inside.

(no angst pls my heart is too poor to handle angst 😭)

cherry waves

summary: with your retirement from the source of his burden’s and the arrival of your pregnancy, leon almost swears that things will be alright. but worrying intel from hunnigan and the affliction of his worst fears make things worse. make things bloody and gashed with the ultimatum of death — and the one thing on his mind? you.

warning: written with vendetta ! leon in mind, violence, afab reader, use of gun, mention of vomit, intense imagery of death / zombie bites, mention of pregnancy, angst (but happy ending), implication of smut (nothing happens :P)

a/n: firstly, ty so much for ur interest for my works! it always makes me so happy ppl like what i write 🥹 secondly, WOW, i loved this plotline and couldn’t wait to get writing it! thank you so much for requesting this because i had a great time writing it (anything exploring leon’s worst fears is an immediate yes from me!) i hope i did your prompt justice and hope you enjoy :-)

It would start with a mission, something so insanely emblematic in its own course that it made Leon scoff sourly.

Of course they would do this — do this to him, to you, try to rope him back into a hell he had once wished to depart for entirely. You’d done it, excavating all wounds and ties to that little milky tinctured office corner and a chock-full of folders, of late night runs to diners and the semblance of sentience. Leon had admired you, held you in high regard and shunned any and all faces that had locked horns with your decision, dragging them through filth and dirt and nothing but the crud of his hate and the spew of his regrets.

And after you’d promised the two of you this peace, this little hole of your own created in the cataclysmic remnants of what once was, in a tiny apartment stocked away into the city curtained with the foolish promises of a forgotten past, Leon had sworn that it had worked. Had been cut from an entirely different cloth, and woven into something… away from this hell.

But it’s always something other than peace in the end.

And when he’s on his own, cornered against a wall with little to no care for anything lavish, just the bile wedged in his throat from the coalescing pools of worry in his stomach, he tries to think of you.

“Leon, your slippers…” you’d called out from the living room, in his memory, voice soaked with little to no empathy. He’d mumbled something incoherent back, something unintelligible, that had sufficed for a few minutes before you’d thrown a shirt over his head. An injunction, he was sure it was, to his constant habit of doing away with his clothes in the wrong places. Next thing he knows, he was being smothered by your weight as your voice rung clear, a ring of indolence grating your voice, “Leave your shirt on the floor and I swear to god, Leon S. Kennedy—“

“Okay, okay, I promise—“ he’d chuckled, collecting you and your squeals in his broad arms, entrapping you into the planate sheets of the bed he’d laid in since the morning began, “I’ll be mindful of where I keep my shirts. Kiss me?”

And your resistance, your throes of faux fury, the crooning semblance of your squeals and laughter had dissolved into a stimulant, a drug for him to swallow wearily whilst his back was met against some other unfamiliar surface.

He holds his breath. Strengthens his feet against the bounding hard-wood floors as an outburst of flitting groans, cold and doggone with the smell, a reminder of 1998, sound out from beyond the foyer of the abandoned building. And he’s accustomed to the feel of blood between his teeth — god, he’s done this in repeated intervals before, so why did it begin to feel too pervasive in this moment?

His heart clamours in his chest.

His skin bursts with a sheen of cold sweat.

His teeth clatter with a fear he’d known all too well, for a time too long.

So why?

So he rephrases, rewrites this fear in him into something of a catalyst — he thinks of you again.

He thinks of your smell and your smile, your tears and the strength you’d accumulated when you had grinned goodbye to this shit hole. He thinks of your nails digging lines of red against his back, the rows that escaped you when he’d had you pressed against the mattress. He thinks of the day you’d staggered up to him, eyes rimmed with a similar shade as the vermillion he’d worn to some masquerade themed drivel (in the name of work), calling for him like you’d been bitten by the dark, searched for his face in the light — “Leon… Leon, I think I’m pregnant,” and he’d kissed you raw, kissed you like he fought, kissed you through the burn and edge of his tears cracking into the press of your mouths as he had felt grounded for once in his pathetic, penurious life.

He uses that, the glint of that vision, that new beginning, the shade of hope that came as you, to shape an opening — he aims his revolver at a blindsided corpse. Fires a crisp blow at a groaning zombie. Kicks, buckles and flanks against two more and advances with the burn of your memory in his mind.

It’s nearly ten minutes since he’s been stationed into the rubble of the desiccated building and Leon’s throat itches with a certain worry.

How were you? Did you need anything whilst at home? Did you think of him? Did you crave something demonically new? Did your feet hurt, like it often did following your pregnancy? Did you rest enough? Were you up, staring at the crescents and spoons of white dotting the sky, like he was?

And Leon nearly trips, nearly kisses the ground from thinking of you — but he needs to. Needs to allow himself this grace to make sure he’d not shoot himself, surely. Needs the image of your face to bless every corner of his mind so he’d remember what it felt to love you thoroughly, fully, to the point of death and damnation. Needs to feel you, if even in his mind, if even for a second too faltering, if it meant he could mow down another zombie.

“Leon? Leon!”

He cringes, retreats to a gap in the wall as he presses his headset into his ear — Hunnigan.

“Hunnigan?” he whispers, throws his voice to a lower sonority than before, so that he can hear her better. So that the clatter, the dash of undead a few feet up ahead, cannot pick up on his bearings.

He hears a cut from the other end, before the agent’s familiar voice cracks through, “Leon, there’s been new intel.”

He frowns. This can’t be good, if she’s already using his first name instead of a roster of aliases. Still, he needed to figure it out. Keep a locale on his bearings.

“New intel? Go on…” he breathes softly. He picks up the press of footsteps up ahead and smothers further into the tight bite of the space, wincing when his muscles flout back at him with an ounce of pain.

“There’s been reports of a zombie intrusion in the city,” Hunnigan starts, and Leon stops, “and there have been increasing hoards against buildings and apartments.”

And he drops.

His feet move, on pure muscle. On pure fear. On the cut-throat and persistent emotion that is love, of you, of the memory of you, of the promise he’d made and of the shattering grip of his life, as he books it out of there. Hunnigan continues, gathers something about altitude and choppers. Of gunfire and backup. Of something more, but Leon can’t tell.

To Leon, his mouth is already bleeding and his body is already teeming with wounds, with the futility of scars and the loom of death, when he pictures those sick, dead bastards at your door.

Why did he accept this stupid job?

Why didn’t he follow in your footsteps?

Why didn’t he stay?

And as he beats the ground with louder noises, attracts a few undead with the heave of his groans as he breaks for home, for your apartment, he can lay a hand over his chest and feel his heart attempting to splinter into knots as he runs.

He thinks of you, again. He thinks of your smile and the smell of rot. He thinks of your smell and the curl of lips and the gash against your hip. He thinks of your odd habits, your huff, your laughter. He thinks of your body stapled to the floor, marked with messily biten flesh and an aspersion of blood on the counter. On the floor. On your face.

And you and you dead and you dying and you growling and you—

“Fuck!”

Leon chokes, his throat jammed with pathetic cries. His eyes glisten and shed, but he quickly finds himself recanted in front of that familiar apartment, front so idyllic, it was burnt straight from his memory. His skin melts with sweat, with pin pricks and with the threat of throwing up right there, but he soldiers through.

At first, it’s hard. It’s hard to breathe, hard to see past his tears. It’s hard to get a clear grip on his weapon and it’s hard to blur out the mess of their groans, their staggering enumeration. But he finds some messy middle ground, grounds his feet and staples his teeth and shoots against brassy flesh, against bone and blood, barely cares for the splatter of blood against his lip, his chin, his hair.

All he cares is for you to be standing there, as you as you could ever be. As safe, as teeming with hope and the glimmer of tomorrow as you ever were, welcoming him home.

But he’s half delirious, half fucked for thought, as he makes it up the staircase with difficulty. He wants to delude himself and wants to believe the lies he’s almost weaving in his head. But the truth is vibrant, unpleasant as the verdant decay of flesh that hordes your apartment floor.

And he nearly throws up.

Your door is open, three zombies freshly approaching the crack of it. Their heads jitter and steer in the limelight, and Leon nearly breaks, but holds the pieces of himself as he shoots through their corroding skulls.

He shouts your name first, then chokes with grief at the sight of blood — and the image of you dead and dying and —

And he’s trying, yes, he’s trying, as he stumbles through the threshold with his gun quivering in his hold. And yes he’s breathing, but only so little, as he eyes the count of flesh against the tile of your living room. And yes he’s standing, but nearly crumbles with the thought of a repeat. Of a sequence to his worst fears.

“Leon!”

The scream gushes from the bedroom and his heart teems with that familiar feeling, slow but sure, of hope. Of love. He silently cries as he makes a run for your shared bedroom — his calloused palm harshly swings apart the door and sees you cornered atop the bed, bashing the head of a zombie in. It’s managed to corner you far up the bed, but you’re sour with spit and curses as you try to throw it off — but the undead prove to be a challenge.

And yet, Leon is a worse piece of work.

With his shot gun aimed at its head, the zombie flattens to the floor with an animated thud.

And then there’s silence. There’s a heave from you, as you gather your surroundings and make use of something solid to determine Leon actually there — actually standing in the stretch of your bedroom as he looks back at you, face bristling with blood and carnage. With tears.

And with time, comes semblance.

You dart towards him, worry in your hands when you gather him in your palms like life itself — “Fuck—Fuck, I was so worried. Fuck, Leon, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, sweetheart, I’m okay—are you?” he inquires, rushes for thought as he presses a hand into your side, your face and your back. Tries and thrives with the effort of remembering your warmth through his fingers — collected here, in the bloody mess of your apartment.

And you’re breathing and you’re alive and you’re smiling and you’re holding love in your hands when you cry into his arms.

And as he holds you like there’s so much of losing you, crumbles to the floor in the vacancy of your arms, he catches sight of your already swelling belly beneath his nimble fingers as you sigh out a laugh. Beckon his hand atop your stomach closer, say something about ‘knowing how to work a gun, even after all the bullshit I’d left behind.’

And Leon sighs with the thought of tomorrow.

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon drabble #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #requests

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal (Start)

WC: 588 CW: (updating as the fic continues), Gen but ships may be added Danny Fenton/Wally West pre-relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Major Injury, Minor Character Death

They were going to lose.

It's a simple, unavoidable fact and it hits Danny like one of Superman’s punches. He fumbles in his attempt to triage Barry’s leg before the limb was lost.

The man standing in the middle of the ruins of Metropolis would win. He and his army of hive mind clones would sweep across the rest of the planet. Humanity would fall.

They were going to lose.

He finishes tying off the field tourniquet, not sure how he manages, not with his hand slick with Barry’s blood. Something of his thoughts must be showing on his face because Barry reaches out and grips a weak hand around Danny’s wrist.

“Kid?”

It was still a stupid nickname. Danny hadn’t been a kid since before joined up with the Justice League as a field medic four years ago. But Danny was the same age as Wally and many of the other Teen Titans— all long grown out of that name— and so he got lumped in as ‘kid’ to the more senior heroes.

And now all these wonderful, heroic, brave people that Danny had come to be friends with were going to die. The monologue happening in the middle of the street made that much clear. No hero would be left alive; any chance of a future uprising would be snuffed out this very day.

Because they were going to lose.

Danny smiles softly at Barry and pries his hand away.

“Kid, whatever you’re thinking—” Barry could have no idea what Danny was thinking. No one could.

No one could, because no one knew what Danny could do.

Danny had played to the curse perfectly for seven years. A curse set on him in a stupid moment of one last teenage angst fueled vent. He had just wanted to be normal.

Sam and Tucker were going off to college. Danny wasn’t, not with his grades. Jazz was practically waiting for her girlfriend to propose. Danny couldn’t imagine even dating with his secrets. Jack and Maddie had a new contract with the GIW. Danny had stopped trying to reason with them.

Everyone else was moving on with their lives while Danny was stuck half dead. A freak of nature. A man out of life yet still living. A walking corpse.

He just wished he was normal.

He’d forgotten that he shouldn’t wish.

A wish is only a curse waiting to happen.

Well, he got it— his wish that was a curse. As long as Danny never used his powers in any noticeable way he would just be seen as a regular kid to the rest of the world— just plain, normal Danny Fenton. If he got caught using them even once— if he got caught being not normal, his powers would be gone, taken by the curse. Without his powers keeping his core humming happily along and sustaining his half dead body, Danny would be gone.

Danny had forgotten he shouldn’t wish.

But he did.

And suddenly, just like that, to everyone else, Danny was normal— no ghost attacks to fight, no GIW hunting him, no Team Phantom.

Sam and Tucker drifted quickly away without the team to bond them. Jazz checked in less and less— no need to worry about her little brother being shot. Jack and Maddie… well, they stopped having a reason to talk with him too. They had to prove the existence of ghosts! There was no time for… well, someone as normal as Danny.

Normal turned out not to be so great.

-----

AN: I got sent the the field medic prompt going around, for some reason? (there was no comment sent with it). It's a cute idea with some fun responses, but not really my jam to write. I'm not much into exploring ageless immortal, dimension hopping Danny in my own work. I have more of a weakness for exploring what makes Danny still human. And, as @mokulule pointed out: "I see you mentioning no angst XD".

(Have you all caught on yet that I like my angst?)

So of course I had to ask if I were to write field medic Danny, how would I get him there? And how would I hurt him once he was there? So I threw out all of the prompt and I bounced it around with Moku, her prodding me along with great questions and thoughts, and now here we are.

Because apparently my brain didn't want to warm up on one of my current ideas. This will be a one shot so help me-

(BTW: While in the very vaguest sense this started with a prompt, the above writing is not a prompt. This will be finished, it's 99% planned out already, just needs the writing.)

#dp x dc #abson #Danny Fenton/Wally West #quick death

[zaimta]

Hey. How are you doing? Congrats on the followers. I'm a huge fan. I wanted to put something in for your event. I was hoping to have Ace with the prompt "i’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while." please? I don't know how much detail you would like. But I think it would be cute if they were childhood friends. But whatever idea you want to use it okay with me. It will be great no matter what. Thank you and congrats. <3

zai: i love me a good childhood friends to lovers it itches my brain just right! the actual event was a year ago but imma still write this bc why not lol ps everybody say ty bochi for the fire manga cap

ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

growing up together the two of you were basically inseparable. he always found himself by your side, he couldn’t help himself there was something about you. maybe it was the way you never backed down when he argued with you, or the way you cared for luffy and got along with sabo, or definitely how you called him stupid for letting his name define him.

sabo elbowed ace with a small smile on his face “you’re staring at them. again. everyone knows you like them you know you’re so obvious.”

ace stammered over his words, his face quickly turned red as the blush creeped up his neck “im not! i was just lookin out for luffy. you know luffy plays rough and i didn’t want him to injure y/n. yeah that’s it.”

sabo’s grin gets wider and becomes smug “oh so you’re worried about y/n?”

“shut up!” ace yelled feeling embarrassed and with his pipe raised as if he was going to swing.

it’s been years since that conversation. the quartet, unfortunately, became a trio. although the conversation ace had with sabo was years ago he remembered it as if it was yesterday. he’s been crushing on you since you were kids he’s not the shy type but for some reason, you have that effect on him. anytime he tried he always chickened out.

but today was the day he was leaving to sail the world so it was now or never.

“are you sure you don’t wanna join my crew ace? you can be first mate!” luffy smiled widely at his brother. he asked the same question hundreds of times and got the same answer.

ace laughed and smiled “please we both know that i’m the captain and you’re first mate luffy. i’ll see you later yeah? try not to cause too much trouble while i’m gone luffy.”

ace’s gaze landed on you, his eyes visibly softening when he looks into yours “how do you feel about an adventure on the seas y/n?” he extends his hand to you “it’d drive me crazy to be apart from you.“

“what? come on ace you can’t steal my first mate!” luffy protested with his arms crossed.

you raised a brow and smiled at luffy “first mate? i thought ace was your first mate luffy?”

“he’s a captain now so it wouldn’t work get with the program y/n!”

you laughed and gently nudged luffy with your shoulder “im gonna miss you luffy.” ace’s eyes lit up and he smiled like a love-sick fool “y/n..”

you put your hand in his. he pulled you into him, his free arm snaking around your waist “welcome aboard first mate.”

luffy stuck his tongue out at the two of you “traitors!” he then laughed with his usual infectious grin on his face.

“oh great he took the only one with sense.” dadan grumbled and rubbed her temples it was going to be a long few years with no one to keep luffy in check.

as you sailed off with ace you watched as the island became smaller and smaller, he cupped your face in his hands. his touch was gentle yet rough “there’s something about you. you drive me insane always have and you always will.” he leaned closer your lips mere inches apart. he wanted you to close the gap he wanted to see if you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

you leaned in and closed the gap, your lips gently molding with his. one of his hands moved down to your hip to pull you closer when you unfortunately had to pull apart for air he bruised his lips against yours and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“i’ve always wanted to kiss you…we’re gonna burn the house down baby just watch.”

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

[cowboydisaster]

Hi again! Thought of another one….

Arthur finds out that reader has a gift for him for Christmas but he hasn’t gotten them anything. So he has to scramble to think of a gift. He ends up making a handful of drawings of reader including some with their beloved horse. And of course reader is over the moon about it

This one isn’t too clever so if you’re not feelin’ it, it’s ok.

🎄❤️

* ˚ ✦ Icebreak * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 720 a/n: Just a cute lil' drabble. Merry Christmas' eve! Thank you for another really cute prompt!!

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: ONE day 'till christmas!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

Arthur distinctly remembers the conversation in which you’d both agreed that you wouldn’t be exchanging gifts this year. Alarm bells are going off in his head. Was he supposed to get you a gift anyway? Should he have ignored that conversation entirely? Been a gentleman and got you something nice? Arthur swallows thickly. 

Despite the conversation, Arthur had just found out that you have a gift for him. Sadie has a loud mouth, especially when she’s drunk, and for once, Arthur is grateful for it. At least he has a little time to think of something. He pulls his pocket watch out, glancing at the time. 6:27 PM. A little time. 

In a rush, Arthur jogs into his tent, pulling his journal out of his satchel and placing it on the bed. Beside it, he tosses down a piece of charcoal and a pencil. The camp isn’t in a great financial situation; hence the agreement of no presents. So, he reckons if he can’t buy you something, he’ll just have to make you something. 

Arthur begins drawing, and after a while, the sun fades away, forcing him to switch to lantern light. The side of his hand is caked in lead as he runs the pencil over the pages, capturing the curves of your body, the shine of your smile. He draws his favorite memories of you. The day he gifted you your mare, Sugar. The day you kissed him for the first time. The day he’d brought you to camp. 

Arthur stays up far too late, sketching a handful of pictures of you, taking his time to capture you in the utmost detail. His hand flicks perfectly, catching the waves in your hair, the line of your jaw. Arthur draws you with your mare, with his gelding, with him. 

The group of drawings encapsulate the things that you love the most, and the memories that you hold dear. After finishing half a dozen good drawings, Arthur inspects them, fixing little mistakes, and adding little notes about his love for you. When he’s finished, he takes some old baling twine, tying a little bow around the pages, fixing them until they’re all wrapped up perfectly.

He knows you deserve better, a bracelet of silver or gold. A necklace embedded with gemstones, or a new dress. Those are the things you would have been gifted back in the city. He sighs, looking down at his little homemade gift, knowing that it will just have to do.

— — —

“Alright,” Arthur whispers, pulling out the ribbon-wrapped sketches, “Go on n’ open ‘em.” 

Your eyes open slowly, drifting to the white pages that Arthur is extending out to you. 

Hesitantly, you take them, eyes searching up to Arthur’s for reassurance. He nods, and you smile, pulling the twine ribbon, letting it spiral to the floor. You flip the first paper, recognizing it as being ripped out from Arthur’s journal, and you gasp. 

It’s a beautiful sketch, one of you sitting up in bed, hair draped down your back, a graceful smile on your lips. Even through paper and pencil, Arthur has managed to capture the sparkle in your eyes, the optimism in your countenance. Next to the drawing is a small note. 

Early mornings with my lady.

Your heart warms, and you flip to the next one. You find a sketch of you, laying on the back of your beloved mare, arms wrapped around her neck. The drawings are stunning. Works of art that should be posted in a gallery in Saint Denis, and he’s giving them to you. You know how private Arthur is with his journal, and you’re honored.  

“You like ‘em?” Arthur asks, nervous of your silence as you continue to look through. Tears pool in your eyes as you look up to him, holding up some of the precious gifts. 

“You drew me. Arthur,  I love them.” Sincerity is thick in your voice, and Arthur wipes a tear away from your cheek. 

“Didn’t wanna make you cry.” He jokes. You huff. 

“They’re so beautiful, so meaningful. No one’s ever done anything like this for me. Not in my whole life— not before you.” You whisper. 

Arthur’s arms wrap around you then, pulling you into his chest, shushing away your sniffles. 

“They’re perfect, Arthur.” You murmur against him. He smiles. 

“Merry Christmas, darlin’.”

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445

#divider by cafekitsune #cowboydisaster's christmas countdown #bea's christmas countdown #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x f!reader #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan