#i feel like i lost the thread somewhere

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend, hoping that you are feeling better today and up for what's really mostly salt. I'm not sure I have anything to add to the 911 dissatisfaction discourse (and that its not all over the place) that hasn't been said before and said better, but here's the things that really struck me this episode. First is what feels like a clear intent to replace Buddie with Hen and Buck this season. Let's be clear, i love Hen and Buck together and their dynamuc is not out of nowhere, but i

can't help but feel its not only forced, but being forced to give an excuse not to show Buck with the Diaz boys. Just last season Eddie had his meltdown and the FIRST person Chris called was Buck, who literally dropped everything in his life (including his gf) to take care of them for weeks!! Now they don't hang out anymore, Buck doesn't check in when Eddie stresses about Chris lying or growing up in general?? He's been to therapy, Buck's done his job and that's that. Am I really supposed to buy into that?? I don't know if this is KR's way of minimizing Buddies importance, it feels more like maybe a way to try and make Buck's sperm donor nonsense somehow intersect with Denny asking about his Dad and that leads to something?? Maybe?? I don't know but it's hard to not feel like that makes the entire interaction even more forced, especially since right now it's been mostly a joke and bringing those two things together will be...a choice. Which brings up the point that nothing this season feels like it's setting anything up. I may not be a fan of S5 but at least the highlight, Eddie's breakdown arc, was set up beautifully from the start, as was the Madney issues, and even Bobby's near relapse (even though those last weren't nearly as well executed). Just, what are we supposed go be expecting for the characters?? Nothing that's happened seems in any way connected, it's like KR turned 911 into a sitcom and only occasionally remembers it's a drama. If the big arc this season is for Buck why has it been treated as a joke mostly?? Any cliffhanger we get for the midseason finale won't be nearly as impactful as Eddie quitting last year because it will come out of nowhere. And finally hard agree that the emergencies no longer mean anything. Like the best storyline so far is Eddie dealing with Chris growing up but it doesn't in any way involve his job, I could watch it on any drama on TV!!  

 Sorry to cut out mid rant, i got interrupted by someone expecting me to focus on my assigned tasks (the audacity). Anyway, pretty sure I more or less finished, i just want to see some spark of the old 911. The new dynamics are fun, but to again use our favorite punching bag of a show, it was also nice to see Alex talk to Max at the end of S3, but it made no sense and I'd have 10 times rather seen his limited screentime spent elsewhere. I need 911 to start doing better than RNM!

Hello my friend! I’m still languishing in my sick bed and very much not looking forward to packing, traveling, or sleeping on my brother and SIL’s couch in their overly crowded house for 3 nights while I’m recuperating, but I’m very excited for the wedding so there’s that to look forward to! 

This rant is all 100% spot on and exactly where I’m at right now. I’m not losing all hope, I’m having some fun, I’m laughing, or awwww-ing, but there’s just no gut-punch moments, no edge-of-your-seat moments, no depth, and nothing cohesive tying everything together. You’re so right about the Buck/Hen stuff feeling forced at this point and it’s BECAUSE we’re not getting any Buck/Eddie. Buck talking to Hen when they lost someone made sense because she was the captain on the scene and made the call and they ARE friends and is someone he respects and looks up to for guidance and someone who has all the answers. Him talking to her about the sperm donor thing made sense too as it’s something she’s seen the other side of but it was weird not getting ANYONE else talking with him about it, and the way the show has played it all off as a joke means it dragging out and becoming something bigger is going to be a weird tonal shift, especially since we didn’t get the firefam trying to be cool about it at work but following that scene up with Eddie or Bobby pulling Buck aside to talk about it and it was dropped again this week and likely won’t come up much if at all in the 6a finale unless it’s tied into the Denny stuff but again, they’ve treated it as a joke until now, so it’s going to be a jarring tonal shift if it’s a huge issue suddenly in the finale.

I also agree with where this season is going because like ??? what is anyone doing? Eddie’s dealing with Chris growing up but that’s been a couple of minutes in a few scenes spread over 8 episodes, Chim has nothing outside Maddie and Jee and even most of that has happened off screen (and actually most of THAT is speculation because we’re not even earing about much in canon either and is a lot of guesswork from fans based on the synopsis saying they were doing couples therapy), Maddie had the one thing in 6x05 and that’s been it outside a few scenes with Chim and Jee, Hen’s med school thing wrapped 2 episodes ago, Athena had “her” episode which affected zero things in the rest of the show and she hasn’t had much else besides these few scenes with May this week, Buck is all over the place looking for the right couch one episode, the key to happiness the next (neither of which have been brought up again since those episodes aired), and now this sperm donor thing but he’s not talking with Bobby or Maddie or Eddie or even Chim about anything, and Bobby is apparently finally getting something in the finale in 2 weeks, but it’s about a character that hasn’t come up in the 26 episodes since 4x14 a year and a half ago. Joy.

And I think that’s the issue with the emergencies. Because the episodes themselves aren’t having a clear narrative purpose and there’s no major arcs to move forward, the emergencies are just things happening to people we don’t care about with no weight or barring on anything, and they’re running them longer BECAUSE they aren’t doing anything with the mains on the personal side of things so they need stuff to fill the void.

As for the change in character interactions, if we were getting these “new” dynamics in ADDITION to the old ones I think it would be fine, but we’re not getting anything out of most of these scenes that either a) is revealing something to the audience they haven’t (or *can’t*) tell the person in the regular paring, b) is a shared experience only this new pairing has (Eddie and Chim have SO much potential for deep conversations about Maddie/Shannon/their kids/their dads), or c) would work better with the dynamics we’re used to seeing. You’re so right to bring in the RNM parallel because they did the same kind of thing like having Alex and Max talk but it not actually giving us much and it feeling disjointed because they hadn’t spoken for 3 seasons and also robbed us of scenes we actually wanted to see with characters that made sense. 911 is better than this, or at least it used to be. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #911 #911 spoilers #tim!! #come get your show tim! #i feel like i lost the thread somewhere in here but i already took my cold medicine and need to be asleep like 20 minutes ago #so this is what i'm posting #bon appetit

[too-much-tma-stuff]

This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.

In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.

Masterpost

------

Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.

He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?

He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.

And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.

So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.

It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.

"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.

He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.

"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"

'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.

"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.

"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.

"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"

"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.

"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.

The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.

Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.

Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.

"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.

The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.

Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.

The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.

He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.

"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.

"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.

"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.

"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.

"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"

Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.

"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.

"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."

"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.

"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"

Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.

"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."

"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.

The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?

That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.

Part 2

#fanfiction #danny phantom #dc x dp #angst #misunderstanding #the bats think Danny is normal pregnant not incubating cores #Vlad is a creep #stalker Vlad #vlad plasmius #dick grayson #cassandra cain #feedback and comments welcome #for some reason it won't let me add a title #I wouldn't really know what to call it anyway

[atwitchyship]

d'y'ever do an exercise for the first time and after one it's like, "Oh this is weird but it's not hard!"

and then after three it's like "ohhhh shit Imma feel this for the next week."

Because I just did a bunch of supine pushups and my shoulders are going to HATE ME.

#entertaining the rats #look this is never going to be a fitspo blog #I just like feeling buff #and eating brownies #so that's what I do #if I get Big Fancy Muscles that's cool #I can sweep someone off their feet #whilst also serving them brownies #which we will share under a tree at the Arnold Arboretum #on lilac sunday #the smell of lilacs wafting through the air #which I can only tolerate because I took allergy medicine beforehand #because sneezing is deeply human but not great on dates #where we are dressed in pretty clothing being cute at one another #... I lost the thread somewhere

[clockwayswrites]

Ficleting Together Start:

cw: internalized abelism as issues with therapy and mental help, injury

Jason had an imaginary friend. He hadn't always. He wasn't like most children who had one when they were just learning to understand the world around them. He hadn't even had one on the streets when he was so desperately lonely for anyone to offer him kindness. No, Jason hadn't had one until he had become Robin— until he had become magic.

He didn't actually think his friend was so imaginary.

Bruce and Dick did, though. It was actually the first conversation that they had that didn’t end in shouting in months. Jason had listened to the whole thing through a vent on the other side of Bruce’s study. There were concerns of him regressing. Apparently it was something that could happen to traumatized— and fuck he hated that word, traumatized— children when they finally got somewhere safe.

Dick thought Jason would benefit from therapy. Worse, Bruce agreed. It turned out that went Jason took part in the shouting match it could be so much worse.

“I’m not crazy! I don’t need to see a fucking therapist!” Jason screamed.

He wasn’t helping his case, he knew that. But he wasn’t crazy! They couldn’t lock him up. He wasn’t crazy. It already felt like he was locked up. The study felt suddenly small. The lights too bright. The furniture too big. Bruce and Dick were too big.

“Jay-lad, that’s not what we’re saying,” Bruce tried.

“I’m not talking any pills!”

“No one is talking pills, Jay,” Dick said. He stepped forward, reaching a hand out.

It would be comforting. Jason knew that. Dick’s touch was always comforting.

He gave great hugs.

He wasn’t like—

Jason ran.

Jason bolted out of the room and past Alfred and out the door and into the woods that surrounded Wayne Manor. He ran past trees and shrubs and rocks that all looked the same. He ran until his legs were burning and he couldn’t catch his breath and—

The dirt, damp from the fall rainstorms gave under Jason’s feet. For a moment he was standing on nothing. It felt just like when Bruce had said that he had arranged a therapist for Jason. It felt like his world had fallen out from under him. And then Jason was falling, tumbling down the rock face that up the small hillside that Jason had been running along.

He screamed as something in his leg snapped, the noise was cut short as his head bounced against the rock and snapped his jaw closed. Even when he stopped rolling, the world swam around him. Jason closed his eyes and tried to stop himself from hurling. It was close. Jason lost time counting his breaths through the pain.

And then they were there.

Jason knew it, he always knew it.

It’s why he didn’t think they were imaginary.

He couldn’t help the sob that ripped from his throat as he felt their presence settle against his side. “I’m not crazy. You’re real. I know you are.”

Jason didn’t hear their response. It wasn’t like they spoke. But Jason could feel their response: a rumble of reassurance, a bubble of wry humor that Jason didn’t understand, and an undercurrent of worry.

“I’ll be okay,” Jason said. It had started to get dark. When had it started to get dark? “I’ll be okay.”

A cold sensation pressed against his brow.

He could close his eyes for a little longer.

He’d be okay.

“Jason! Oh god, Jason. Bruce! It’s over here! Please be alive.”

Jason whined as hand touched his neck.

Murmured Romani filled Jason’s ears as his world went black.

---

The voted prompts were Danny/Jason, soulmates/bond, Eldritch. This isn't going where I thought it would, but that's the fun of it! I might just tack all the parts onto this thread an not do an update thread since this shouldn't be too long (famous last words) but we'll see. I have at least two scenes that I know I want to do.

#dp x dc #dead on main #prompalomp

[starrystevie]

"i need a favor."

it's simple enough for steve to hear even over the loud music in the club, and it definitely grabs his attention away from where he was staring blankly into the dancing crowd. he pulls his eyes to the person standing in front of him, gaze trailing over their form before settling on their face. he's cute, steve thinks, with his curly dark hair and big brown eyes that he could see himself getting lost in. he's cute enough for steve to listen to whatever favor he could possibly need.

"umm, hello to you too?" steve says it like a question, his eyebrows quirked up and a smile pulling at one side of his mouth. "what kind of favor might that be?"

the stranger smiles and sits in the seat next to steve, setting his beer on the table beside steve's nearly finished jack and coke. he's closer than he was before and steve can appreciate his face even better this way.

"it's my ex. you see," the stranger slings an arm around the back of steve's chair, pulls himself close so that he isn't having to scream as loudly over the booming club beats. "he's here and i knew it would be stupid to think i wouldn't run into him in the only queer club around, yet here he is. and here i am."

"is there supposed to be a favor in there somewhere?"

the stranger grins and steve suddenly gets the feeling he's a bird who's been cornered by a cat.

"well, i was hoping you might be able to help me. he knows i have a... weakness for pretty boys and you just happen to be the prettiest one here."

steve's heart thumps in his chest, strong and impatient as he watches the neon lights flash off this guy's teeth. he always thought he was the smooth one with all his charm and charisma, but this stranger was sitting next to steve like it was any other day and not like he had the possibility to turn his world upside down.

"help you how?"

the stranger's grin grew wider and his eyes not so subtly flicked down to watch steve's lips. "kissing would be a good start, then letting me drag you to the dance floor so he could see us. and maybe if you're feeling a little crazy, we leave together, make it seem like you're coming home with me. he's watching us right now, you know?"

steve gives him a blank stare as he tries to not let it show just how much fun he thinks it all could be. he's there alone, anyway, trying to drown his loneliness in his friend jack daniels, so what's stopping him from playing a little bit of pretend?

"and what's in it for me?" is what steve finally gets out, his breath stuttering minutely in his chest when he feels a palm cover his leg.

"what do you want?" the fingers squeeze around his knee.

it makes steve stop and think for a moment. he thinks long and hard about material things like at least 3 drinks bought for him or dinner after they escape together or paying his cover so they can get in to the bar down the road that plays shitty music but has a good atmosphere. but there's one thing steve could really use, something he doesn't get the chance for, something that this random guy's money wouldn't have to cover.

"an adventure."

there's no way to tell who moves first, whether it was steve fisting his hand into the guy's hair to close the distance between them or if it was the firm pull on his leg that turns him towards the stranger. it's messy, right off the bat, with a tongue pressing insistently against steve's lips that he's happy to meet with his own. the hand on his leg is a grounding touch that keeps steve from floating away, warm and strong and there.

the man's other hand wraps awkwardly around to rest on steve's waist as to bring him in closer and the force of it has steve stumbling out of chair and settling instead on the guy's lap. two hands wrap around his waist now and his own go back into the guy's hair, threading through the stands and holding on firmly.

"okay yeah, you were definitely the right choice for this, holy shit," the guy breaks away to catch his breath and grin at steve who sends him a grin in return. "you are so..."

he doesn't finish, lets his lips say the words he couldn't as he connects them with steve's once more. it's hot, both in temperature and otherwise. steve can feel a bead of sweat start to roll down his back as they kiss and roll against each other for lord knows how long. one of the stranger's hands comes to rest just above steve's ass and it has him pushing back into the touch before he can tell himself to stop.

"dance. we uhh," steve says breathlessly as he pulls away from the man. his eyes are hooded and his lips are slick and kissed red, the flush on his face visible even under the dark club lights. steve thinks he might already be a little bit in love. "you said we have to dance."

the hand that was trailing down to his ass makes its way to it's destination and presses firmly, so steve follows, lets himself be manhandled until they're sitting chest pressed to heaving chest.

"sorry sweetheart, you aren't moving anywhere just quite yet."

lips connect to his jaw and it feels like it's exactly where he's supposed to be. steve pushes into the man's space, gets them as close as possible to savor the moment. he doesn't get to have fun, not much anymore at least, with his job keeping him so busy he hardly even gets to see his friends. it's nice to push every real life responsibility to the side and be in the moment with a random man from a club.

"so what does he look like, your ex?" steve mummers against his ear, low and sultry. "is he looking at us now?"

he feels the man chuckle against him before kissing his way up his neck. "he's pretty standard looking, don't think i could describe him to you if i tried."

"okay but," he's cut off by lips pressing quickly onto his own before steve pulls away once more. "i need to know who i'm putting a show on for."

the man sighs, rests his forehead against steve's collarbone for a beat before biting at it playfully. "let's just say you're putting on a great show regardless of who it's for."

steve pulls back even further, watching the man roll his eyes as he tries to follow him with his mouth. "and i thank you for that, but really, where is he?"

the man pauses and every bit of confidence that was on his face melts away until he looks younger, looks almost nervous. he sighs again and drops his hands from where they were kneading into steve's sides before running them through his hair with a sad sounding chuckle.

"he's nowhere."

now it's steve's turn to pause. his thighs that were clenched so tightly around the man's legs release and he slumps down with a frown pulling at his mouth and arms crossing over his chest.

"explain."

"i just," the man winces, face crinkling up before settling back into something more neutral. "you're like insanely hot, which i'm sure you know, and i needed something so i could talk to you so-"

"so you lied? there's no ex?"

"... there's no ex."

steve's done more thinking in the last 30 minutes than he expected to in the entire evening. he didn't come out to a gay bar to think about anything and yet here is, contemplating a fucking pros and cons list about where to go from there. does he yell, punch him for lying, storm out and end up back home all alone in a empty apartment? it would serve the guy right, letting him stew in his guilt for lying so he could make out with someone.

"i'm steve," he says after making up his mind, hand extended out in front of him.

the stranger grabs it shyly, shaking his hand up and down slowly while he stares at steve. "i'm eddie?"

"is that a question?"

"no, i'm just-" he cuts himself off and shakes his head as if to clear it, pinning steve with a confused glare. "you're not mad?"

"mad, no. at least i don't think so. confused as to why you think you couldn't just talk to me, yeah."

the man, eddie, runs a hand down his face and pulls it away with a cheeky grin that makes steve smile at him back. "i'm sure you've looked in a mirror! you know why i couldn't just talk to you!"

it has steve laughing, full belly ache inducing laughing, in eddie's lap in a gay bar on a night that he planned to waste by being drowned in self-pity. he doesn't think he's ever had a weirder night and it's funny. he lifts his leg and stands up, watching the smile disappear from eddie's face to be replaced with a frown. he reaches down and grabs eddie's hand, pulling him to his feet and watching a beautiful smile spread back across the other man's face.

they're the same height, he realizes, as he presses his mouth to eddie's ear.

"i think you owe me a dance. and," he pauses, looks eddie in the eye and lets his hand travel to eddie's ass to pull them as close as possible. "-an adventure."

#steddie #steddie headcanon #yes i did just waste too much time at work writing this don't tell my boss #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #steddie drabble #steddie fic #this is i think my first kind of delve into modern steddie so may have to do it again #mayhaps this will have a spicy sequel who knows #steddie ficlet #1k #2k #3k #4k

[mvth3r]

daryl really likes your nail polish.

warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut under the cut!

cw: outdoor sex, sexual thoughts, jerking off

wc: 1534

daryl isn’t sure how he missed it.

he’d seen you just this morning after breakfast. you had asked him if he had time later for another lesson with the bow and he’d said yes before he could think himself out of it. it wasn’t like he ever told you no anyway, not unless it was really necessary and sometimes not even then.

the two of you had trekked through the woods outside the fence until you reached a clearing where daryl had left a couple of makeshift targets on the trees from your last lesson. you weren't very far, still in view of the watchtower, but the walkers didn’t tend to stray this way anyway.

you’d filled the silence with soft chatter, talking about the drama in block d and who was dating who and who was mad about it.

how drama could drum up in the apocalypse, daryl didn’t know, but he responded enough to keep you going, relishing in your pretty voice and attention.

he’d long since come to terms with his feelings towards you. he didn't have much choice with the way his eyes never seemed to stray far if you were in the room, and the fact that he returned from every run, even when shit got dicey, with something especially for you, whether you’d made a request or not.

bottom line, daryl paid attention to you, so he was confused as to how he’d missed this.

you hefted the crossbow up onto your shoulder like daryl taught you, adjusting your grip and looking down the sight.

your fingers, where they rested lightly on the trigger, were painted ruby red.

the light of the midday sun shone off the polish, and daryl stared, transfixed.

he’d never seen your nails painted, obviously because you were in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse. where did you even find nail polish? better yet, who brought it back for you? you hadn’t been on a run in a couple of weeks, and definitely not somewhere for you to grab polish.

daryl was so lost in thought that he missed your first shot, looking up instead at the sound of the arrow sinking into the tree.

“gettin’ better, girl,” he said, turning away from you to squint at the target.

you frowned, eyeing it as well, “i missed the target.”

daryl scoffed, “last time you missed the tree. ain’t gon’ be perfect overnight.”

you huffed a laugh and bent down to load another arrow. daryl watched the strain in your hands and face as you pulled the string back. you struggled with it every time, but he wouldn’t offer his help if you didn’t ask, he knew you better than that. he stare drifted to your hands again. you were pulling a lot of weight, and the veins in your hands were responding to it, swelling under the skin. it wasn’t a foreign image, but with your nails painted red, it was different. the contrast was erotic.

all at once, daryl’s thoughts changed.

he thought about your hands on him, his face, grasping his stubbled jaw and pulling him to meet your lips.

he thought about you on top of him, straddling his waist, your nails raking down his chest.

your fingers threading through his hair and urging him further into you while he licked up your messy cunt.

your hand covering your own mouth to muffle your cries as he thrust into you, your nails looking more black than red in the darkness of the cell.

your hand wrapping around his hard cock and tugging, the red of your nails contrasting the firmness of your grip—

you stood, having successfully loaded the arrow, and daryl stared as a bead of sweat slipped down your neck and under the collar of your shirt. he wanted to trace it with his fingers, with his tongue.

you met his gaze with a small grin, either oblivious or purposefully ignoring the hunger in his gaze. he was grateful either way, “the string’s fuckin’ heavy.”

“mhm,” daryl grunted in agreement, watching as you raised the crossbow once again. his eyes tracked your fingers where they settled once again on the trigger. he bit back a groan when his cock twitched in response.

your next shot was better, but still didn’t hit the bull’s eye. it was inside the target circle, at least, and your eyes lit up. you pointed across the field and daryl followed you as if he hadn’t been looking.

“that’s good,” he said, staring more at the way the sun bounced off your nails more than the target. he didn’t care about that anymore, he wanted your hands grasping the base of his cock while you swallowed down the rest of him, “real good, girl.”

“thanks.” you chuckled, looking over at him and finally taking notice of his lack of attention, “what is it?”

you followed his gaze to your hands.

daryl glanced up at your eyes and back at your hands, “never seen your nails done.”

“oh!” your smile was sunny when you held up your hand for him to see, flipping it back and forth, “beth did them. maggie brought a bottle back for her the other day.”

“mm,” he grunted, still eyeing your hand, “‘s nice.”

“well thank you. the polish’ll probably chip off fast, but that’s alright,” you extended your other arm, holding the crossbow out to him, “you can have this back, my arms are killing me. want me to get the arrows?”

daryl grabbed the bow from your fingers, the fingers he wanted pressing on his tongue. he shook his head.

“i’ll grab ‘em, you head on back. i’ma go hunt, see if i can’t catch somethin’ ‘fore i lose the light,” he muttered, voice strained.

he angled his body away from you, hoping you couldn’t see where he was hard, straining in his pants over some fucking nail polish. he felt like a teenager, popping boners over a little exposed skin and a pretty smile.

you nodded and stooped to grab your bag before heading back the way you came, tossing a, “alright then, see you later!” over your shoulder.

daryl watched you go, crossbow gripped loosely in his hand before turning and stalking off in the opposite direction. he yanked the arrows out of the tree and kept on, walking until he was beyond the watchtower’s view and then some.

satisfied with the distance, he planted himself against a tree and, finding the area clear, he let the crossbow drop carefully to the ground, still within arm's reach. his fingers went immediately to his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper.

it wasn't the first time he had sought a little relief in the woods and it damn sure wouldn't be the last. he pulled himself out of the confines of his jeans with a hissed "fuck", so sensitive that the action made his head knock back again the tree with a muted thunk.

daryl wrapped a hand around his overheated flesh, groaning immediately and louder than he would have liked. he gave his cock a long stroke, pausing only to slide a thumb through the precum spilling out of the tip and smearing it around.

unbidden thoughts of you flooded his mind again.

your fingers undoing the clasp on your bra and sliding it off, exposing your bare chest to him.

your fingers spreading the lips of your pussy for him to see, both a tease and an invitation.

your desperate form, hands scrabbling at his shoulders as you rode out your orgasm.

daryl's strokes sped up, losing rhythm as he practically humped into his hand. he bit harshly at his lip to keep from making any noise, but they slipped out anyway, little whimpers and huffs escaping his mouth.

you swiping your fingers through the mess he had made of your pussy and raising them to your lips for a taste.

daryl's back arched off the tree when he came, spilling white all over his knuckles and onto the forest floor. his chest heaved as he came down, the aftershocks making his stomach tense and eyes flutter shut.

righting himself, he pulled his rag from his back pocket to clean up. finally tucked away and decent, daryl allowed himself a moment to lean heavily against the tree behind him.

his feelings for you had been manageable before, but this? this was something else entirely. he was fucked. he didn't even know how he was supposed to look you in the eye after this, but he couldn't avoid you either. that would be worse.

daryl's thoughtful silence was shattered by the crack of a twig near him and he whipped around, knife pulled from the sheath at his waist. he scanned the forest, seeing nothing, not even a walker.

he huffed, figuring that it was probably just a critter. grabbing his crossbow from the ground, daryl headed off deeper into the woods. he couldn't turn back up to the prison empty handed after all.

however, unbeknownst to daryl, you stood a few feet away, concealed behind a tree.

you'd followed him, heard him.. watched him. after picking up on his mood in the clearing you'd intended to ask him straight up how he felt about you, but you had your answer now.

your face flushed as you felt yourself dripping into your underwear. you turned on your heel to head back to the prison, taking care to keep your steps light lest daryl still be within earshot.

you'll ask him tomorrow.

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd imagine #fem reader #daryl dixon imagine

[gtgbabie0]

Missing Lego bricks

{You come home to Spencer losing his mind over Lego pieces}

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Spencer, for the most part, is a level-headed person that’s what he likes to think at least. But right now at this moment, he thinks he might just go insane. He’s looked everywhere, in every nook and cranny of his living room and he’s starting to regret all of the books he leaves haphazardly around.

You had got him the typewriter Lego set for his birthday, and he was completely over the moon. In fact, he had even cried a little at the heartfelt gift, it was the first time in a while where his birthday didn’t feel like such a dreadful experience.

He remembers it so very fondly. How your eyes glistened with excitement as you watch him unwrap the present, the way your eyes crinkled with joy. He had rambled off about the history of typewriters to you a couple of times and in all honesty, it warmed his heart to know that you actually listen to him.

“Baby? I’m home” you call out hanging your coat on the hanger as walk further into his apartment. He would have greeted you and helped you with your coat and bags whilst sneaking in a shy kiss or two, but he was completely and utterly hung up on this lost Lego piece, he’s starting to think it might’ve just simply disappeared.

You smile, standing in the archway, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose before threading his fingers through his hair, his eyes scanning over the floor.

“You lost something?” You ask, and he perks up with surprise as if he didn’t even hear you come in.

He's quick to grab the instruction manual off the floor before jogging over to you, tripping over the stack of books that sit beside the coffee table. “This one- I’ve looked everywhere baby and I can’t find it, it’s just gone,” he tells you, pointing to the rouge piece of Lego.

You look over to the half-built typewriter noticing the way he had separated the different parts into small piles.

“Well it’s gotta be around here somewhere,” you tell him and he sighs, looking at you with disbelief.

Spencer is adamant as he shakes his head, “It’s not- it’s just poof, gone” he explains, his hands gesturing in every which way as he tries to get his point across. And you can’t stop the little giggle that slips from your lips, he looks like he’s going to lose it.

“Don’t laugh- this is a serious problem” he tells you watching as you cover your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle your laughter.

“Okay, I’ll help you find it,” you tell him as he thanks you softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You both search for the tiny piece of plastic for a good minute or so. Moving the furniture around as you check in every corner of the room, looking behind all the books.

Then it hits you as you look over at the couch, “Have you looked under the sofa yet?” You ask. He frowns pushing the sleeves of his jumper up to his elbows as he scoffs at you.

“Looked under the sofa? Yes of course I did” he says, and you can tell from the way he fiddles with the strings of his jumper and the smirk that teeters on his lips that he’s lying.

You go and make some snarky comment something along the lines of ‘for a genius that was pretty dumb’ he could already hear it before the sentence could even leave your lips.

“Don’t even say anything” he says, a playful look flicking through his eyes as you purse your lips trying to stop the growing smile. You watch as he walks over to the sofa carefully stepping over the Legos that were neatly placed on the floor.

He picks up the edge of the sofa lifting it up slightly with a small grunt as you check underneath the couch and there it was a small grey Lego brick.

“Got it!- there you go pretty boy” You hand him the piece of plastic, watching as his eyes light up he. He thanks you as he walks back over to his place on the floor.

You join him on the wooden floor, your thigh against his knee as you watch him as he continues to build the typewriter, “Can I help you?” You ask, handing him the bricks.

He looks over at you, admiring just how pretty you are with those love-filled doe eyes of his. He presses a kiss to your temple. “Yeah of course you can sweetheart” he tells you, shuffling to make room for you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

AN/ just wanna say that my requests are open! {I can also write for Emily Prentiss!} 💕

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds spencer reid

[kapeeshkapoosh]

wallet problems

a/n: a little oneshot kind of thing, bc i keep sentimental pictures and stuff in my wallet and it’s my favourite thing

synopsis: gojo loses his wallet, but his mind is more occupied on you rather than his money.

contents: fluff, petnames(barf), 1k words, gojo being corny, y/n and gojo are married, not checked

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

“I don’t have my wallet on me..”

Gojo muttered dejectedly, feeling his jacket pockets only to be met with a flatness in the fabric. The trio of students looked at the white haired man blankly in response.

“So you invited us out to eat and didn’t bring your wallet?!” Nobara was first to break the silence, her teacher could only smile nervously, not really bothered by the threatening glint in her eye.

He gulped subconsciously, tuning out Nobara’s consistent cursing from his head.

How could he lose his wallet?

He brought it with him to work everyday, looked at it when he ate lunch alone, reminisced with it whenever he was on break.

With a sigh Megumi put some cash on the table, “I’ll pay this time.” He said blandly, stopping Nobara in her long threads of enraged sentences. With the sudden stop of noise, Gojo pushed back his worries for a second and flashed a smile.

“I’ll repay you Megs’!” Gojo stuck his tongue out playfully at the raven haired boy only to be returned with a slight furrow of his brows. “Anyway- have any of you guys seen my wallet around?”

“No? Have you left it at home Sensei?” Yuji asked, genuinely concerned for Gojo. Gojo thought for a second, “I can’t remember.”

“Ring Y/n, she could check for you.”

“Right, good thinking Megumi.” Gojo quickly jabbed your phone number into his phone, hearing it ring 4 times before you picked up.

“hello?”

“hi sweets! Do you know if my wallet’s at home?”

There was some rustling on the other side of the phone, he could hear you walking around the house.

“no, I don’t see it anywhere. Satoru did you really lose your wallet? You might’ve left it somewhere at school.”

“I’m not sure, but I’m sure I wouldn’t have left it at anywhere else but our home!”

You huffed on the other line, he could tell you were rolling your eyes at him.

“I’ll call you back if I find it ‘Toru.”

“thank you sugarplum!”

He could hear you slightly laugh at the pet name before ending the call.

“So?” Nobara asked inquisitively - who else was supposed to pay for her shopping?

“funny thing, but I think I’ve lost it!” He exclaimed in a chirpy tune, his conscience eating his brain fully. Megumi scoffed and Yuji could only laugh at Nobara as she fell dull.

“How about we just go back to school then?” Gojo suggested carefreely, however he creased his eyebrows anxiously as he thought on where he could’ve left it.

♡

As you ended the call, you groaned in response. It wasn’t normal for Gojo to leave something behind, but usually if he did it would be for a stupid reason. Most of the time he would pull the act so you would show up at school, but this time you could tell from his voice that he was actually worried.

You started searching for a bit, looking in all possible places until you gave up and carried on with your day.

Whilst you were fixing a snack later that day, you popped open the fridge for some juice only to see the problem behind your stress today. With a sigh, you picked up the strangely dark leather wallet and the box of kikufuku next to it.

Now you had to go drop it off, as you stumbled into your car, you rung his phone. It didn’t even ring once before instantly being picked up, excitement gliding through his voice.

“Did you find it?!”

“yes Satoru I did.” You laughed as you heard him sigh in relief, “I’m coming over to drop it off now.”

“Thank you my sweetie weetie pumpkin spice-“

“Satoru!” He went quiet, “save it for later.” You giggled, making at turn to the school.

“Whatever you want Y/n.” He said playfully.

“don’t be upset you crybaby, I’ll be there soon.”

“okay you bully, love you?”

“love you too Satoru.” You laughed as you heard him giggling like a highschool girl, “see you in a bit.”

“goodbye my loveeee.”

“Satoru end the call, I’m driving.”

“no you first!”

“Satoru!”

—————

The school was quiet as it usually was, with the slice of laughter and noise coming from the training grounds. There Gojo was with his students, probably spewing some nonsense as he waited for your arrival.

As you walked over, with both the kikufuku and wallet in hand, Gojo’s eye lit up.

He smiled happily at you, waving excitedly as if he had a small crush on you. “Y/n!”

You cracked a small laugh as you made your way over, greeting the students.

“Here’s your wallet and kikufuku.” You put out both items, expecting him to take the snack first.

Instead, Gojo quickly took the wallet from you, opening it up and sighing contentedly as he saw what was inside.

“What?” You asked, Gojo only shrugged at you before pushing the wallet safely into his jacket pocket. “Did you think I ransacked your wallet Satoru?” You questioned teasingly, amused at his exaggerated expression of relief.

“nope!” He pops the ‘p’ as he’s always done, “Just had a lil’ something important in here, can’t risk losing it sweets!” He then leaves a giddy peck on your cheek, leaving you confused and curious as to what was so important in his wallet.

Then Gojo took the kikufuku from you, munching on it ravenously as he always does.

-He had originally placed his wallet next to the kikufuku in the fridge so that he wouldn’t forget his snack, but instead he forgot both his wallet and food.

-

Later that night, when Gojo was long gone in sleep, you reached over to his night stand. Quickly swiping his wallet noiselessly. You then open the black leather wallet, unusually dull for the lively man.

You were taken aback as you saw the familiar film from yours and Gojo’s first date at the arcade.

‘This is what he was so worried about?’ You scoffed, unable to help the lovesick smile on your lips. Satisfied, you closed the wallet and returned it back into it’s place.

‘He’s an idiot’ You thought.

You had an exact copy of the film in your own wallet.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #oneshot #gojo oneshot #kapeesh kapoosh

[lets-just-daydream]

Astarion x reader soulmate AU or vampire mates PLS IM BEGGING

I HOPE YOU LIKE! I did have fun writing this 🥹

Warnings: mentions of torture, nothing graphic

Astarion was sure of few things in the tragedy that was his life. But the things he was sure of were the things that killed his spirit. Things that quashed his will to live.

After two hundred years, he was sure he would die here, under Cazador's thumb. He wasn't sure when or how, but that would happen.

After two hundred years, he was sure that there were no gods out there who would ever answer him. He stopped praying to them long ago, for they clearly didn't care about creatures like him. Creatures of the night.

After two hundred years, he was sure that he had no soulmate. No partner that was out there waiting for him. Perhaps it was wishful thinking and in fact he hoped he had no soulmate out there, that maybe they were long dead by this point if they were lucky.

He thought it cruel, the way soulmates worked and deigned a guess that Loviatar must have had something to do with the cruel design. A person can feel their soulmate’s pain. How awful. And how truly awful for any person bound to himself or his siblings.

He hadn't felt any phantom pain himself in all his years under Cazador so he remained hopeful that they were already dead. Gods know his soulmate didn't deserve it.

One day, Astarion sat in his dilapidated bunk with the heavy curtains pulled shut and a threadbare blanket over his shoulders as he worked diligently with his needle, repairing his beloved shirt for… well he'd lost count how many times he'd repaired this shirt. That's just the way it was.

As he pulled the white thread through the thinning fabric, he let out a yelp and a strained “fuck!” as he dropped the needle and his hand flew to his foot. His small toe ached as if he'd just dropped something on it or stubbed it. He frowned and looked down at it. It looked fine but gods, the pain was awful.

Any other person would know, would get that feeling that their soulmate had just hurt themselves but the possibility was so far removed from Astarion's mind. He brushed it off with an annoyed huff and picked his needle up again to continue his repairs, the pain eventually fading.

It happened again, a few weeks later. An inexplicable pain that changed the course of his sad existence. It was late, he was out. At the Elfsong Tavern, chatting up some stranger to bring back to Cazador. He wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying, but he feigned interest, nodding where appropriate and throwing in the occasional affirmation as he sipped the goblet of wine paid for by stolen coin he'd lifted from an unsuspecting drunkard.

Astarion shuffled closer to her, wanting to speed this along. His hand came up and pulled her hair back from her ear and whispered.

“What do you say we get out of here and somewhere more quiet…” His voice silken and honey smooth.

Mere words whispered and she was a red, blushing mess. He heard her heartbeat pick up and she nodded, her excitement obvious only to him. He stood from his seat and extended his hand to her and as she reached out to him, an intense pain marred his knee. Astarion doubled over and grasped at his knee, letting out a curse as he pulled his pant leg up to examine whatever injury he'd just sustained.

There was nothing there, his knee smooth and pale, slightly bruised but that wasn't out of the ordinary. He felt like he should be bleeding with a sizeable wound. He whipped his head around to see if anyone had attacked him but no one paid him any mind except his “date.”

Astarion was annoyed and confused. He lowered his pant leg again with a huff and the woman who he didn't bother to learn the name of let out a laugh. “Seems like your soulmate is out there getting into trouble.”

If Astarion had warm blood coursing through his veins, it would have gone cold.

“What?”

The woman stood, grabbing her belongings. “Your soulmate. Obviously hurt their knee since you're in pain but seem fine. Happens to all of us. I'm almost certain my soulmate got their arm chopped off last week based on the pain I felt for days and days.”

She shuddered and grimaced, rubbing her left arm. “You see anyone with a fucked up arm, come find me. Goodnight.”

And then she left. She left him in a stupor and a predicament. Firstly, it was too late to try and seek anyone else out to bring to Cazador tonight. By Astarion's estimations the sun should be rising soon and he needed to get back to the palace. The thought of arriving empty handed caused a familiar panic to rise in him at whatever torture he was certainly due for this day.

But secondly, and possibly worse if he let himself think about it too much… whatever pain he was about to go through would be inflicted onto you. His unsuspecting soulmate. If what that woman said was to be believed, anyway.

Astarion wandered back to the palace in a haze. He ping ponged between self-preservation and not letting himself get worked up over the fact that you were about to be tortured, put through some of the worst pain you could ever endure. He tried not to think about it. Tried not to be weak but he couldn't help the guilt. Even if he did manage to find you, even if you were out there, you could never want him after what you were both about to go through tonight.

Hours later, after Cazador had finished taking his wrath out on Astarion for failing to bring him a victim, he wept. He often wished for death, never prayed but he did this day, with each flog, flay torture, he wept in excess for you.

Your whole body ached. You'd been saved from falling to your demise at the very least as the nautiloid ship crashed but gods you’d still had some momentum when you hit the ground.

Pain was… quite normal for you these days and you lived most of your life in fear for when the next bout of pain was going to knock you out for several days. Whoever your soulmate was, whatever life they lead, you felt awful for them. You couldn't help but also feel a little resentment for all the torturous pain you'd been through and when you finally did meet them, you were going to demand some fucking answers. Not only did they seemingly get beaten up everyday, but the constant hunger pains you felt never went away despite how much you ate. Were they starving themselves?

For now though, you stood and took in your surroundings, dusting your clothes off and squinting as the bright sun beat down on you. You stepped through scraps of metal towards some rocky cliffs and to what looked like a path. You made it through and saw someone, a tall, pale elf standing by the cliffside, examining the damage made by the crash. His hand staked through his hair and he looked around warily until he finally laid eyes on you.

“You there!” He called out. He sounded posh and you internally rolled your eyes. “Can you help me? I have one of those… brain things cornered.”

You walked over to him and peered into the bush where he was pointing and you jumped slightly when a boar ran out from the underbrush. You let out a laugh and sigh of relief and turned back to him but before you knew what was what, a cool knife was pressed against your neck and you fell to the ground, a grunt of pain escaping yours and the elf’s lips.

His arm came around your shoulder and he held you in place as you struggled, looking up at him. “What are you doing?” You cried.

He pressed the dagger against your neck and you felt a nick of pain as he drew blood. You cried out in pain and to your surprise, so did he. You paused, confused. The stranger also paused, his body stiffening and his eyes zeroed in on your neck where his dagger met your skin.

You took this moment to your advantage and rolled out of his arms, making sure to elbow his face in the process. But as the crack of your elbow made contact with his nose, you cried out in pain and grasped at your nose, standing and looking at him in accusation.

He also stood, holding onto his nose and his neck.

He couldn't be.

Neither of you dared say a word as you clutched your faces in pain, staring. Waiting. For what, you weren't sure but the pieces started to fall into place and you slowly stepped towards him. He stiffened and leaned away from you but you grabbed his arm and pinched it, grimacing softly when, yes. You felt the same phantom pain in your own arm on the same spot. You said nothing and only stared into the stranger's red eyes.

He in turn, grabbed your arm and squeezed, stopping when it began to hurt.

This was it. This was him. This was your soulmate.

“No way,” you whispered.

The stranger turned soulmate seemed to be in a similar state of disbelief. “You're… real,” he murmured.

Whether he was pleased or upset, you weren't sure. He kept his feelings quashed. But you felt no desire to do such a thing. You'd often thought about what you would say when you finally met your soulmate and now that you were here, seeing his pale skin, his eyes with accompanying bags to match and his expression that he tried to keep impassive but you could see the fear etched onto his face your rehearsed words failed you.

Instead, you stepped forward and placed your hand on his arm comfortingly. He stiffened at the contact.

“I'm sorry,” is all you managed to whisper, your eyes wide and apologetic.

You didn't need to elaborate, he knew and you knew that he'd been put through shit, you along with him. You didn't resent him like he thought you would, you didn't accuse him or yell at him for what he'd put you through. No. You apologised to him.

He shuddered out a sigh of relief and stared at you, a small smile on his face.

“My name's Astarion.”

#red writes #astarion x reader #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic

[grandlinedreams]

Hello!! Hope you’re well !! <3 if you’re still taking requests, can I request a cute scenario of reader who’s into crafts? Like she sews up shachi and penguin’s hats when they’re a little torn, she mends to the suits and makes patches for them time to time, and what law thinks of it? Would he want something too??? Would plushies that look like the heart pirate crew be scattered ???

Hope that’s not a weird idea, sending you good vibes and a good day !!

Oh, that's cute and not weird at all, no worries!! But i can absolutely do my best, I hope that this is to your liking!!

[Heads up!:fluff w a tiny pinch of angst, now i wanna find the materials to make mini Heart Pirates]

"Here's your hat back, Shachi."

Law watches from where he's slowly sipping his coffee, watching the redhead take the familiar cap back from you for inspection.

"Thanks, [name]. It looks good as new!"

You beam at the praise. "It was nothing, least I could do when it means so much to you."

Law's eyes drift over Shachi's hat. The hole that'd been torn into the dorsal fin is gone, previous damage unnoticeable as Shachi puts it on.

You'd fixed Penguin's hat the week before, mended something for Bepo before that, and for Hakugan the week before that ㅡ all within spare moments when you could find them, with a skill not born from a devil fruit.

No, your talent with needle and thread is your own. Sometimes Law wonders if you're ever tired of it ㅡ but when he asks, you shake your head.

"No, I don't mind. It's the least I can do, I think."

There's something sad to your tone as you say it, an undercurrent that makes Law frown and wonder what you mean by that.

ㅡ

"[Name]."

Law's call of your name makes you jolt, the case in your lap tipping to scatter the contents across the floor. Bobbins of every color wheel aimlessly, and you stare at the mess before you kneel to begin picking them up. "You startled me," you say, tone accusatory as you glance at Law. "Did you need something, captain?"

"My apologies." Law bends to pick up the few that have rolled to his feet before he hands them to you, fingers brushing yours. "I wanted to ask, ifㅡ" He catches a pop of color where you'd been sitting, and he blinks. "What is that?"

You follow his line of vision and tense. "Nothing!" You reach to hide it behind your back, and Law's eyes narrow.

"[Name]."

"It's nothing!" You scowl when Law lifts a hand. "Captain, don't you dareㅡ"

"Room. Shambles."

The item in your hand is replaced by a bobbin, and Law stares down at what you'd tried so hard to hide. It's made of soft fabric, tiny boiler suit carefully stitched ㅡ a small replica of Bepo.

"It's dumb," you say, voice small as you look anywhere but at your captain. "I know, but i had a bunch of space fabric so i...made mini versions of the crew. And...of you."

Law isn't sure how to react to the fact that there's currently a plush somewhere made in his likeness, but he still rubs his thumb over plush Bepo's forehead affectionately. "And you?"

"Hm?"

His eyes lock with yours. "Did you make one of yourself? You're part of the crew too, [Name]."

"Oh," you answer. "No, I didn't."

Law watches you, struggles with what to say to you that won't either make you both uncomfortable or breach the line of captain and crew member.

"Catch." He tosses plush Bepo to you gently, watches as you catch him before he continues. "Make sure to make one of yourself too, [Name]. You're important to this crew. And...to me."

You blink, toying with plush Bepo's arms. "Okay," you murmur. "I can do that." You watch as he moves to leave, what he'd originally come to ask you lost to the momentary embarrassment over his own words and feelings concerning you. "And captain?"

"Hm?"

"You're important to the crew too. And to me."

#ㅡmine. #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #anonymous #ㅡanswered. #–ml: law.

[kxttqi]

the lingering taste of your lips on mine 。

↪︎ angst (no fluff guys suffer), gojo x reader

↪︎ warnings: i think i wrote a swear word somewhere idk, reader is dead, not proofread at ALL

satoru gojo was the strongest. he never backed down, never lost a fight. he had never shown weakness to anyone. then you came into his life, a calming breeze that threatened to unravel the very thread of his invincibility. 

his strength was nothing against the softness of your touch, the sweetness of your smile.

in your presence, his defenses crumbled, replaced by a vulnerability so foreign to him. a vulnerability he had sworn to never show after losing riko and suguru. 

he’ll never forget your laughter, a melody that filled the air around him. it was intoxicating and he found himself helplessly drawn to it. he loved making you laugh, watching as your lips curved up, your eyes gleaming with that sparkle he adored so much.

he still remembers the way your eyes lit up when you were excited about something, the way your hand fit perfectly in his. the memory of your gentle voice, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, still in his mind. the way his name rolled so lovingly off your tongue. the way the curves of your waist fit so perfectly into his arms. 

the taste of your lips still lingers, a sweet haunting that he carries with him. every beat of his heart echoes with the memory of your love, a melody that continues to play even without you.  a solo that should have been a duet. he still wakes up reaching for you, but all he grasps is the cold reality of your absence.

but as he runs his finger over the carefully preserved photograph, incessantly gnawing at the edges of his sanity is the truth. 

it was all his fucking fault. 

had he learnt nothing? how had he been so sure that he could protect you? just like he had vowed to protect riko. suguru. yet another life that had slipped so easily from his fingers. arrogance. the word echoes in mind. 

love was the most twisted curse of all. and he had been so selfish to have placed that very curse upon you. how different your life would have been if he hadn’t met you. that smile he cherished so much would still be alive. those chimes of laughter would still be playing. you’d have found someone else, someone more worthy of you. someone who wouldn’t have led you straight into the unforgiving arms of death himself.

but he already knew the words that would come out of your mouth if you could hear his thoughts.

“it’s not living if it’s not with you, satoru.”

as he stood there, shrouded in the dim light of the moon flowing from the window, unstoppable waves of emotion flooded his mind. he had hoped the sight of you at your end would be stored away in the back of his mind, like an old photograph worn from the years, so faded that the original image was barely discernible. he had hoped it would be left at the bottom of the drawer, the happier ones covering it up. he placed his head in his hands, feeling the wetness of his tears against his palms. he hadn’t realized he was crying. 

“the strongest”, was he? what a load of bullshit, and he realized it now. he was far from it. 

what he would have given to have your last words of i love you directed at anyone but him.

© kxttqi — do not repost, copy, translate or steal my works without permission.

#✧; kat's journal #its been so long that i forgot how to post #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #satoru x reader #jjk #gojo angst

[xxsabitoxx]

Needy

<Geto Suguru x Fem! Reader Drabble>

Warnings: Cunnilingus, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praising, creampies, the usual lol

A/N: I said Geto was next, so here he is! Next Drabble should hopefully come out soon but I won’t jinx myself lol. Expect to see Tengen next followed by Kishibe!

Word count: 1.5k

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You’d never get enough of him. Your fingers tangled in the inky mess of his long hair, tugging at the roots as his nails dug into the flesh of your thighs. You always pulled it out of its bun, whether it was intentional or not. You just needed to pull on it.

Suguru would never complain, he’d never deny you the opportunity. He enjoyed the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair, tugging so harsh that it felt like you may just rip the strands straight from his head. It was addicting.

The harder you pulled, the better he was doing. The chills that spread through his body were endless, accompanied by your sweet noises he was convinced there was truly no better experience out there for him.

Face buried between your thighs, your fingers in his hair, his name falling from your lips over and over. “A-Suguru please…” you wailed softly, thighs trembling and threatening to close around his head if it weren’t for his hands keeping them spread.

He hummed, sending vibrations straight through your cunt. Your back arched off the mattress, tugging his hair again in the process. You’d lost count of how many times you’d come at this point, too blissed out to even care. So long as Suguru was enjoying himself.

Which he was. He couldn’t get enough of you, the feeling of your throbbing cunt under his tongue, the taste of your arousal. His hips jerked against the mattress ever so often, relieving a bit of the ache and edging himself slowly.

You loved watching him, finding it almost too lewd to bear. It only edged you on, observing meticulously every movement he made. “Suguru…d-don’t you wanna cum…” somewhere in the back of your mind you had to assume at least an hour of this had passed.

He hummed again, something that sounded faintly like “no”. You wouldn't settle for that, thighs trembling as yet another orgasm crept up on you. “S-Suguru please… let me do something f-for you.” His answer was lapping a little more vigorously at your clit.

His eyes shot up your body, locking with yours. There was a silent command behind his gaze, something that was telling you to shut up and let him do as he pleased. You broke his gaze, head falling against your pillow as you came again.

Your hands fisted his hair again, tugging as you cried out from overstimulation. It was warm, too warm, almost. All you could think about was the warmth of his mouth on your cunt, his arms hugging your lower half to his face. It was enough to leave a sheen of sweat on your brow.

“Suguru please…” you tried again, pulling hard enough on his hair that he finally left your cunt alone. “Kiss me.” You pleaded softly, aching to feel his lips elsewhere. He stared at you for a moment, pupils blown wide and chin shining with your release.

“So needy, even while I’ve been satisfying you.” He chuckled as warmth spread across your face, your eyes unable to maintain his gaze a moment longer as he moved back up your body. The kiss was gentle, his lips easily parting for you to sweep in.

He pulled away just as quickly, hovering over you to observe you once again. “Is that what you wanted? To taste yourself on my lips?” He muttered, hand coming up to wipe the saliva present on your lower lip. “N-no. Fuck Suguru I want more.”

You were still aching, despite all of your overstimulation you were still aching for the man above you. “More? How so?” He was bending down again, placing kisses along your jaw and trailing to your neck. “Tell me, what more are you looking for?”

“I want you… all of you.” Your hips lifted, pressing further into him. Suguru smiled against your skin, sucking softly along your pulse point. “That so?” You were wet enough to take him, it was nearly impossible not to be at this point. “Very much so.” You sighed.

“Well, I guess I should give you what you want since you’ve been so patient with me.” There was a shit eating grin on his face as he straightened, pushing up on his knees to tower over you and put on a show. “Even after the amount of times I’ve made you come, you still want my cock?”

You watched as his hand wrapped around his base, tugging softly. Of course you wanted it, it was just as pretty as the rest of him. The perfect length, the perfect girth, the way it curved ever so slightly. It was flushed, needy looking, dripping with precum just for you. Of course you needed it, never mind wanting it.

“Fuck yes.” You smiled, spreading your legs a little further for him. You watched a blush spread across his face, painting his golden skin a pretty pink. You opened your mouth to comment on the blush only for him to cut you off “not…a word.” He was turning more red by the second, it didn’t take much for you to make him crumble that was for sure.

As much as Geto Suguru loved to tease you, edge you and overstimulate you, shower you in praise and degrade you at the same time. It didn’t take nearly as much to get him flustered, to get him worked up until his emotions clouded his judgement. Sometimes it was as simple as admiring him in a particular way.

Like you just did, smiling gently, spreading your legs a little more, telling him that you were just as needy for him as he said you were. His failed degradation attempts always backfired into the best outcome. “C’mon Sugu… fuck me… I wanna feel you so bad.” Your arms outstretched, motioning for him to return to you.

That was more than he could handle, any self restraint that he had left went out the window. Suguru was on you again in an instant, toned body pressed flush against your softer one, cock aligning with your entrance. He pushed inside of you as his lips slotted with your own, swallowing up your gasp easily.

He bottomed out, not giving you time to adjust because he knew you could take it, you always could. He only paused for a moment to relish in the feeling of you fluttering around him, warm and wet and so damn addicting. It was as if you were built just for him, no other man would ever be enough for you. No other partner would ever be enough for him, either.

No one could pull his hair, call him sweet names, fit him as perfectly as you did. “Can I move?” It was hoarse, pressed to the shell of your ear as your hands found their home in his black strands again. “O-of course.” Your thighs trembled as you hooked your legs around his waist, hands fisting his hair to keep yourself grounded. Suguru began moving, hips drawing back slowly before pushing toward again.

It was a steady movement, one that built in intensity as he found his rhythm. His tempo depends on the noises you made, gauging your reaction based on the way you pulled at his hair. It was enough to send goosebumps throughout his whole body, littering his skin and pulling the chills through him. He couldn’t get enough, completely and utterly engulfed in you.

“Ah fuck… Suguru…” you whined, the familiar build in your gut coming easily with the overstimulation he dealt you. Like a cord tightening and waiting to snap, his hips didn’t slow, if anything they picked up on speed. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” He cooed, sweat sliding down his temple as he focused on not coming before you… not that you’d care.

“Yes…but I want you to cum with me.” You whined, walls clenching down around him as if to prove your point. You wanted to feel him cum when you did, you didn’t want him to pull out like he typically did. “Y-you…are going to kill me ya know… making requests like that… so innocently.” He was going to cave before you did, body betraying him with each thrust that he couldn’t slow down.

His hand slotted between your bodies, finding your clit easily and rubbing harshly. “Fuck!” You yelped, far too sensitive for the way he was stimulating you. It didn’t take much more than that, your walls spasming around him as you gushed, liquid spraying his hips and dripping onto his mattress. For a moment you swore you were seeing stars, barely able to process the feeling of Suguru filling you.

“A-all that and you can’t even focus enough to feel me cum in you, huh?” He choked out, limbs feeling like jelly as he worked himself through his own high. “I-it’s your fault… Sugu you’re the one that…” you couldn’t be bothered to finish, shockwaves of pleasure cutting you off as his hip’s seemingly couldn’t still.

“What was that? M-my fault?” His hips had come to a shallow rock, fucking his release deeper into you. He couldn’t bring himself to still, even as he began to go soft. “Y-yes your fault…making me come like that…” you teased, body still trembling as his weight finally settled on you. Like your very own weighted blanket.

“Well then… I guess we’ll have to try again.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru #geto drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #suguru smut #suguru x y/n #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru #jjk geto #geto scenarios #Suguru x reader smut #xxsabitoxx’s work!

[fever-fluff]

Home

Azriel is lost, and cannot seem to find his way home, and it's tearing him apart

word count: 1.1k

Part II

Azriel is spiralling. He had convinced himself he was of equal standing with his brothers, but the past few years has proven otherwise. Three sisters for three brothers, that was what he had convinced himself of, and had seemed to be what Elain had wanted. But the bond he was so convinced was wrong, the bond he was so sure that would break apart as soon as the Cauldron had realised its mistake and weaved one between the two of them instead, never waivered.

And now, he sits opposite that of the woman he is so sure he loves, is the one from him, as she rips his already fractured heart in two. She's crying, and there's no part of Azriel that finds any satisfaction in it, no matter how much he wishes he could. She is the one doing this, choosing Lucien over her. But he cannot blame her.

For a time, they seemed to be happy, even if there were those around him that didn't approve. Lucien had accepted Elain's choice without anger or betrayal, and had wished she could find the happiness in Azriel that she could not seem to find in him.

It was Rhysand and Cassian, the males he called his brothers for centuries now, who had been angry for Lucien. Both of them understood a pain like that - both having to watch as their mates found solace outside their arms for a while.

it had taken weeks of coaxing from Nesta and Feyre for them to even look at him, but whether it was for their sister's benefit or his, he wasn't so sure.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and Azriel found himself the happiest he had ever felt, but it seemed the ever observant spymaster began to miss details. He lost himself in that feeling, not realising the person he found it in was not following down the same path.

It had taken Elain five years to admit her mistake, nothing in the eyes of a fae's long lifespan, but to Azriel he felt like he'd lost centuries.

And now, he watches the world he so sorely craved crumble at his feet with a measly few words.

"I'm sorry, Azriel.... I've hurt so many people because of this. I wanted someone who never should have been mine, while carelessly leaving the male made for me behind."

Azriel had thought his heart had cracked all those years ago when he realised he'd never have Mor in the way he wanted to, but he felt it now. That large, hollow crack that vibrated down the very centre, tearing every string that had slowly began to knit itself together without caring if he could ever mend it again.

He couldn't hear the rest of what Elain said over the cotton in his ears, didn't rise to see her out as she got up and left through the door.

He knows, he knows Lucien hasn't done this, that this is purely Elain's choice. The youngest Vanserra hasn't been seen since Elain had chosen Azriel, off on the continent somewhere with no contact and no sign of ever coming back.

his shadows swirl around him, the thickest they'd been in months. They had never truly gotten used to Elain's presence, and her timidness towards them had Azriel sending them off without a care if it had made her more comfortable. Now, the wrap around him, twisting and turning as if trying to find the ache that their master seemingly has, but finding no open wound.

He takes whatever comfort he can find in them. His shadows have been the only thing that has ever truly been his, no fear of someone ever taking them away from him, being better than him. He is the Night court's Shadowsinger, there is no one else who can fill that role.

And so, Azriel grasps onto that thread and tugs so hard it will either break or rip his hand where it sits. Rhysand cannot find enough problems for him to fix, Cassian refuses to spar more than usual, and his spies have begun to disappear when he is around, leaving their findings in reports he pours over meticulously. He's barely eating, most definitely not sleeping, but he hasn't had to feel the affects of what had happened with Elain.

It's only a matter of time when it fails, Fae are strong, but not indefinitely. It isn't when everyone expects it though.

if not for Cassian, who had watched his brother go down like a rock does when dropped into a pool of water, steady and unmoving, no one would have seen the spymaster hit the treeline so hard they'd ripped his wings to shreds as they lay spread out and lax.

Had waking up been optional, Azriel would have decided against it. Rhysand looked at him with so much pity in his eyes that he had to turn away, Feyre sat at his window, refusing to even acknowledge he was awake.

"You're on leave indefinitely, you're no help to yourself, never mind the rest of us, in the state you're in." Rhysand's words had cut him deeply. His mind swirling as he realised he wasn't good enough to hold the position he'd cherished for centuries. But what could he say against it unless he tried to lie? So he remained silent, eyes downcast as Rhysand went on.

"I'm sending you to the continent, away from -" he didn't need to finish. "With Mor's work, we've made a few connections, and you can stay and figure out for yourself what you need to do."

Azriel looked to Feyre, who had finally moved from the window and stood close to the side of his bed, beside her mate. "Az, please understand, we're worried for you, and this could do you some good."

He scoffed. They had each other to lean on, he had no one - never had anyone to call home. And now they were sending him away from the one place he could pretend to feel like it was. He'd lost the female he loved, and had now lost everything that made him who he was. Why should he even bother...

But the look on Rhysand's face told him he'd order it if it came to it. His brother may always wish those he loved had a choice, but he was still High Lord first, and what Azriel was doing wasn't something he could let slip without repercussions.

He'd go to the continent, spend however long necessary it took to convince his family that he was fit to come back, and he'd hide the despair better. Hide from them all and spend whatever time he could with them before it consumed him whole.

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #feyre archeron #rhysand #azriel angst #azriel spymaster #feysand #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #elain archeron #azriel acotar #azriel x reader

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x f!reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; trevor x jamie x mason wc — 2.2k synopsis — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving?

note — happy valentine's day, my lovelies!! as my gift to you, i've decided to release whatever the hell this is from the archive <3 i randomly dropped this on patreon post-ficmas '24 because, per usual, i was possessed by the ghost of perpetual horniness! we know it'll happen again, so just know i am totally down to write a follow-up if there's any interest teehee! oh, and to the anons who requested some jd + tz content after the trade (rip), i hope this satisfies the craving!! (and you don't mind masey being thrown in the mix)

and with that... i’ll see myself out 🚶‍♀️

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! + trevor calling himself daddy (once) while being condescending to all parties lolz

“—stop getting in my way.”

"or what?"

silence.

then, an exasperated groan.

“i wouldn’t need to be in the way if you were doing it right.”

the long, drawn-out sigh you hear sounds far away, like an echo from somewhere out in the distance, but you know it's coming from behind you—directly behind you.

your boyfriend abandons the soft curves of your chest, which you vehemently protest with a petulant mewl, to massage the tension building between his eyes; if he’d known this would turn into such a headache, he never would’ve suggested this.

“clock’s running, boys. if you wanna waste your very limited time between my girl’s pretty legs bickering with each other, be my guest.”

jamie and mason exchange a glare, united in their distaste for their friend’s tone and attitude in spite of their sudden animosity toward one another.

a pretty girl could do that to a friend group.

only, you haven’t come between the trio in the way one might assume. you might’ve been the catalyst in jamie and mason’s current strife, sure, but that's where your meddling begins and ends. no, you’ve come between them in more of a physical sense, at the behest of your boyfriend and their best friend.

trevor zegras veered toward possessive—territorial, even—most days, but, tonight, he’s feeling strangely generous. it is the season of giving, after all. however, his kindness hardly felt like a gift anymore. the gesture lost its luster soon after the silky ribbon was untied and discarded... and the bitching began. charity work would be a more apt descriptor, in his humble opinion.

he’s expecting an edible arrangement from the ladies of orange county in the near future.

but if anyone deserves some compensation, it's most definitely you, and trevor has just the shiny something in mind. what was originally intended to be the crown jewel of your holiday gifts will now function as a “thank you letting my friends use you as a practice dummy” token of appreciation.

“guess we also need to teach you to share,” you huff, exhausted from the accidental edging and frustrated by trevor's shifted attention.

the worst part is that you don’t think they’re perceptive enough (or have enough experience with a woman’s body, even) to see the agony, the by-product of their inadvertent torture, smeared plainly across your dazed and dewy face. your boyfriend's best friends have unintentionally dragged you to the brink of insanity, and you're reluctantly hanging on by a fragile thread.

said boyfriend's lips caress your temple. “can’t say i blame them. with you freshly unwrapped—just out of the box—and all... i wouldn't know how to share you, either.”

eager is a nice way of putting the boys' behavior thus far, but selfish is a more befitting adjective for their uncoordinated fervor.

two interesting things to note since you were spread wide—presented—to your boyfriend’s closest friends and collegues. the first being that while jamie is enthralled by the way you clench around his lithe fingers, mason favors his mouth; and second, trevor’s harder than a rock from showering his friends with the same domineering aura usually reserved for you in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

(or, the backseat of his car. the abandoned lifeguard tower beside the pier and, on occasion, the recently refurbished dressing room.)

mason also enjoys spitting on your sensitive bits more than he’s comfortable with, the apprehension bright in his eyes. but, watching the run-off of his saliva and your syrupy arousal drip onto jamie’s fingers before both are shoved into your heat is too distracting to pay any mind to the internal chaos of unearthing a new and unforeseen kink.

what jamie lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. for all his bashfulness, jamie drysdale is not shy about finger-fucking.

momentarily sat on his haunches, mason watches with feverish intent as his friend curls your toes with the simple curl of his marriage and middle, his pinky and pointer fingers splayed wide to keep his eye on the prize, sight unimpeded by plush, silky distractions.

no bells and whistles, just diligence.

soon, watching ceases to satiate the burly man and mason slips his own thumb into the mix. with his lips or his tongue—or his fingers, it now seems—mason mctavish is obsessed with your clit.

trevor shoots him a knowing wink; that's his favorite part, too. never do you make prettier sounds than when you’re having that special, highly-responsive bundle tended to. fingers, tongue, trevor's thigh... it doesn't matter, you fall apart all the same.

mason nudges jamie to one side and, much to your surprise, he goes without a fight this time, still stroking you closer and closer to the summit.

with his greater access, mason leans down. his nose splits duties with his thumb as he places wet, open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs, mons pubis, and, finally, the coveted pearl throbbing for affection. his mouth wraps around the little bud before pausing. he looks up for approval.

from trevor.

with the dip of his chin and a peck to your balmy cheek, your boyfriend encourages his best friend to suck on his girlfriend's clit.

mason needs no further coaxing. he alternates between suction and kitten-licks; his tongue was beginning to feel left out. all the while, jamie’s devoted fingers keep you pleasantly teetering on the end.

it's amazing the difference time and a little scolding can make.

“i think you’re enjoying this a little too much, bunny.”

“—m’sorry,” you whimper.

his warm, familiar chuckle fills your ear as he strokes your cheek. “i’m only teasing. you know how much i love watching you get all worked up. and, this way, i get to sit back and enjoy the view while they do all the dirty work.”

your eyes roll back, and his amusement grows louder.

“maybe, we’ll do this again? i wonder how fast they could get you off when they already know how the tricks.”

a raw, guttural sound claws past your lips.

trevor growls into your neck between love-bites. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, greedy girl? is my mouth not enough for you—y’need my friends’ too? such a slutty little bunny i have..."

"no—only want y-you."

it comes out in a few, demure hiccups, the clarity of your protest impeded by those and the frantic shaking of your head.

your boyfriend can't help but twist your mind when you're like this, too weak and preoccupied by pleasure to give him any lip. his brat's gone sweet, fully subdued. and now he can have a little fun.

“—i know, i know. no need to get all worked up over nothing, silly girl. but it wouldn't matter much if you did, though, right?" the hand cradling your chin moves your head in agreement; he knows you're too far gone—too fucked out, to function. "no, it wouldn't because daddy doesn't share his toys. he needs you all to himself."

in this moment, you aren't sure if trevor loves or loathes you.

“lost your voice, bunny? you’re strangely quiet for a slut i know is close. i can hear it, and i know you can too. we all know you're fucking soaked. go on, don't be shy. i think their good behavior has earned them some praise, hm? doin' so good at following my directions—almost as obedient as you are, pretty thing. be sweet, then you can cum all you want."

his words, coupled with the overstimulation between your bent and parted knees, send your brain down a cloudy, all-consuming spiral. too overwhelmed by the boys kneeling at your altar, you can hardly string together cohesive thoughts, let alone speak adequate praise for their efforts.

...as if trevor expected anything out of your mouth other than garbled, pathetic mumbling anyway.

not to mention, jamie found the spot that makes you see stars on the ceiling as his best friend was busy whispering filth into your ear, and he's been bullying it with his deft fingers—three of them now, buried down to the knuckle. he gives it a short, purposeful rub just to show off his treasure.

you shriek and buck your hips into mason's waiting mouth. as his head dips back down to nestle against you, the angle of jamie's fingers changes and your vision blurs just a tad.

trevor's amusement thunders in your ears as he keeps you from shying away from the new sensation, an arm looped around your waist keeping you tight to his bare chest. and good thing, too, seeing as mason's tongue slips in between jamie's fingers not a second later.

they're right and truly pleasuring you now, and you can't wait a second more.

you surrender.

and, as promised, you show them what real moans sound like from a woman—not that fake shit they subject you and trevor to through the walls on a semi-regular basis.

the sounds of you ripping at the seams spur them on, and it's starting to get difficult to discern who's to blame for the puddle beneath you. this are sloppier and more obscene than ever, and you're loving every single second of it, you almost feel like this is your gift and not theirs.

—which is why you nearly write it off as a trick of a pleasure-drunk mind.

you feel it against your sopping, swollen folds before they notice it themselves; in electing to run their tongues up and down the same path at the same time, their mouths mingled along the way—and continue to do so. the delicious, foreign sensation of their mouths tangled in a clandestine dance buys your silence. and easily.

sooner or later, they’d realize and your fun would mostly likely cease—they've never given any indication of feeling either way—and you weren’t about to speed the process along, especially not when you have the pearly gates in sight.

trevor's won't call attention to it either because he's enjoying it as much as you are. maybe more. he's twitching like crazy against the small of your back, and each time jamie and mason convene between your knees, his hips shamelessly rut into you softness like a feral dog.

he nudges you, warm lips against your cheek. "look."

giving your head a downward tilt, his firm hand directs your attention to the object of his—your boyfriend isn't the only one seeking respite by way of aimless grinding.

mason and jamie have their hips flush to your bed, their burning, sweat-stained cheeks glued to your inner thighs, one slightly scratchier than the other—the best of both worlds. their eyes are nearly black with lust. their frantic movements are more pleasure-seeking than precise, driving into the wrinkled sheets with just one thing in mind.

you've never seen anything quite like it before, and your body reacts in kind.

naturally, trevor sees the signs before anyone. he knows your body best, something he takes great pride in. you'd wager he knows more about what makes you tick than even you do. he's put in enough hours, that's for sure.

trevor doesn't bother disgusting the desire weighing on his voice, "beg."

your lips part as if on cue. your boyfriend (selfishly) indulges your pitiful little whines and repetitive pleas—he'll never pass up an opportunity to rub his handiwork in envious faces—but, eventually, he cuts you off before you get too far into the bit.

"—not you, silly bunny. them."

aghast, mason rips his mouth away and you whine at the sudden loss. jamie strokes your walls sympathetically.

"you're joking."

"does it sound like i'm joking, mctavish? you're lucky i'm even letting you see her like this, let alone touch what's mine, and it's a fucking privilege to watch her cum. convince me that you've earned it."

you weren't expecting to find it so erotic, the power trevor wields over them. you're no stranger to his persuasive prowess; his commands alone were enough to get you off some nights. but this is different, and markedly so.

watching him command his best friends—his friends, reducing them to docile creatures eager to eat from the palm of his hand with words alone, is what tips you over the edge.

their persistent chorus of compliance is swallowed entirely by your wanton cunt, but that was by design.

trevor always knows what you need.

when the dam in your abdomen fractures alongside your voice, he holds your wrists tight to his bare thighs, preventing you from grounding yourself in either of his friends' messy mops or finding purchase anywhere on his body. he can't have you distracted. he needs you to enjoy every second of it. your full, undivided attention must be on the pampering you're receiving, and the tender care with which his friends provide it.

it's okay if you're too weak—of mind, body or both—to make that happen for yourself. your boyfriend is more than willing to pin you down as you ride out your first high of the night. happy to, really.

on the come down, jamie rubs light, lazy circles over your sore, swollen clit almost apologetically. mason laps up your release because it'd be a crime to waste a drop—trevor made that abundantly clear earlier in the night. once he's drunk you dry, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"i think i could, um, use a bit more practice?" he announces bashfully—as if he didn't just make you squirt into his mouth.

jamie perks up at his side, fingers and lips still shiny. he's savoring the fruit of their labors like a precious delicacy, knowing it could be the last time he gets a taste. dark lashes shy and fluttering, his puppy-dog eyes blink up at you. "me too."

a wicked smirk forms on trevor's face; they see it, you hear it.

"gentlemen, how's your stroke game?"

💌 if you liked it, pls lmk! 💌

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#jamie drysdale #trevor zegras #mason mctavish #jamie drysdale x f!reader #jamie drysdale x reader #trevor zegras x f!reader #trevor zegras x reader #mason mctavish x f!reader #mason mctavish x reader #jamie drysdale smut #trevor zegras smut #drygras smut #drygras x reader #drygras x mctavish #trevor x jamie x mason #mason mctavish smut #hockey rpf #nhl rpf #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl smut #nhl imagines #hockey fic #sports rpf #sports romance #nhl players x reader #hockey x you #hockey x reader #philadephia flyers #anaheim ducks

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Can I request "The red string theory" with 2012 Leo x Reader? It's basically when two people are connected and bound to meet when the time is right, regardless of the place or circumstance. (Could be platonic or romantic!)

I've been craving 2012 stuff for so longgg!

(I love and adore your work a bunch you have no idea💗!!! this is actually my first time requesting something. I've been so freaking nervous 😿)

-🦈💙

The Red Thread of Fate (Fluff)

2012!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Soulmate stuff! I love it! I’ve always loved reading other people’s soulmate fanfics, so I’m happy to finally make one of my own. And I hope that you find this fitting for your first request😊 Love ya bunches!💙

Warning: Most likely spelling💙

East Asian folklore explains that everybody is tied to their future partner, by a small invisible red string. Chinese mythology has the string tied around the destiny partners’ ankles, while in Japan it was often shown with the string tied around the woman’s little finger and the man’s thumb, even though nowadays it was usually shown only around the little finger on each person. And that was just the versions you were aware of.

You guessed that you had a string too. Sometimes you could feel it, and sometimes you couldn’t. Small, sometimes tightening a little around your pinky, pulling ever so slightly at you until you would move, but nothing would come of it. No one would be standing there and waiting for you when you walked into the other room, and well, suddenly you couldn’t feel the pull on your finger anymore, leaving you standing with a strange empty feeling inside.

Other times you swear you saw it. For a split second you could swear that you saw something small and red tied around your little finger, with a thread like string trailing off from it. However, with the blink of an eye, it was gone, or pinky once again looking as plain as ever.

As time progressed, you find yourself wondering more and more, your searching for answers becoming more and more prevalent. You had long longed to find that special someone, that you could share your life with. The one that could make you feel like the world's prettiest and luckiest person, and that you in turn would make feel the same. The one that you would be willing to work through ups and downs with, knowing there could be no highs without any lows. The one that you would find at the end of this invisible red string you found at the end of your pinky finger, every now and again teasing you with its elusive existens, and the knowledge that your future partner was out there somewhere, probably looking and thinking about you, the same way you were looking and thinking about for them.

But no matter how many times you found yourself dreaming and wondering about your soulmate, you had never thought that he would be close by. So close that he would be under your feet, literally.

One day you found yourself sitting in your bedroom, lost in thoughts, dreaming about that face you hadn’t seen yet. With all of your responsibilities laid out on your bed before you in paper form, you simply could not concentrate, your thoughts continuously wandering off to better places, only to find yourself back in your bedroom, with your work and homework laying out in front of you, just waiting for you to get them done.

You let out a frustrated sigh, letting your eyes scan over the paper in your hand. What was the point of sitting here and dreaming? Dreaming wasn’t going to bring your soulmate to you any faster. If this red string around your finger was as true as you wanted to believe it was, then you couldn’t force it. Your soulmate wouldn’t come around before time is ready for it, so spending too much time dwelling on it was not helping it. It was better to get going with your life and let it come to you along the way. So with yet another sigh, you took a hold of your pen, looking down over the paper one more time.

Then, as if the universe heard your thoughts as they ran through your head, your window smashed, sending someone hurling into your bedroom, landing directly on your floor, glass shards flying everywhere. You let out an ear piercing scream, standing up on your bed, looking down at the guy on your floor, groaning as he sat up, rubbing his head with green three fingered hand… Green three fingered hand!?

You stared in a mixture of awe, shock and a little fear at the green figure on your floor. Green, with a darker green colored shell on his back, his torso enclosed with a light brown plastron, his eyes wrapped with a blue bandana, with eye holes making his blue eyes visible, when he looked up at you. A turtle? A humanoid turtle?

Silence fell between the two of you, both of you staring at each other on high alert, unsure of what to do. After what felt like an eternity of looking into his light blue eyes, the turtles slowly lifted his hands, trying to signal to you that he had no intentions to harm you. But that was not what you noticed. Instead you noticed something thin and red, tied around his pinky finger. A red thread.

You took in a sharp breath when you saw the thread continue off his finger in a small line, your eyes slowly following it until you saw it coming to an end at your finger - tied around your pinky. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe, your gaze shaking as you looked back at the turtle man on your bedroom floor. No way.

The turtle seemed just as shocked as you, his eyes flickering between you and his hand, before slowly taking a hold of his tied hand, looking at it like he couldn’t believe what he saw. Whatever he and his brothers had been fighting out on the other roof was long forgotten, with the sight in front of him being the only thing he could think of. He had always dreamed of this moment, but never dared believing it could actually happen. Him, a mutant turtle living in the sewers, actually meeting his soulmate, a human.

Still standing on your bed, just shoulders slowly came down from the tens positions, your lungs letting go of the breath you had been holding. His round, yet strangely handsome face calmed something in you. Something before now, had never noticed, was so turbulent, slowly coming to a calming halt.

“I- I’m (Y/N)”, you said in a whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, his mouth slowly coming agape. “W- who are you?”

“L- Leo”, he answered, with a stammer letting you know that he was just as nervous as you. “Leonardo”.

“Leonardo”, you repeated with a small nod, not noticing the shiver he felt when he said your name. “Cool name”.

“T- thank you”, he said, slowly coming to a stand on your bedroom floor, coming to his full height, making a butterfly burst to life somewhere deep within your stomach. “Uhm…”, he continued, unsure on how to proceed. “H- have you heard of, uhm… the red thread of fate?”, he asked, holding up his hand with the red threat.

“Yes”, you answered, holding up your own.

Silence fell over the two of you once more, this time with small nervous smiles, both of you wreaking and turning your minds, finding something to say, that didn’t involve just smiling at each other like two idiots that were slowly falling in love. That was when you were interrupted by the sound of Leo’s brothers, calling out for him to help them with what threw him into your room in the first place.

“Shit, I have to go”, Leo said, looking from the broken window to you. “Listen, I- I will be back, I promise! But me and my brothers have a little, uh, problem to take care of”.

“Brothers?”, you asked, your unsurety washing away by the moment as you stepped down from your bed. “There are more of you?”

“There is”, Leo smiled, seeming to calm down when you stepped closer to him, getting lost in the thought of your once again, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. Was he so lucky? So lucky that not only would he meet his soulmate, but get to kiss his soulmate the same day. By your close proximity and your awestruck face it seemed like it. He could just lean forward and do it. He could just kiss you right now, while you smiled at him, seeming to just be waiting for him to do it-.

“Dammit, Leo! We’re losing our shells out here!”

“Oh! Yeah! Shit! Sorry, Raph!”, Leo said, before quickly running for the window, stepping one foot on the window ledge before turning towards you one last time. “I will be back, I promise… And sorry about the window, I’ll get that fixed for you”.

“Thank you, Leo. I’ll be waiting for you”, you smiled, causing the turtle's heart to skip. He stared at you for a moment, feeling his heart jump around inside his chest, wondering if all of this was a dream.

“See you soon, (Y/N)”, Leo said, dwelling in the fuzzy feeling he felt when he spoke your name.

“LEO! AARRRRGH!! HE GOT DONNIE’S ANKLE! HE GOT DONNIE’S ANKLE!”

“I’m coming, Mikey!”, Leo yelled before hurrying up the fire escape. You quickly ran to the window, wishing to see him one last time, only to find him already on your roof, in the last second before he leaped over the alleyway below with ease, running to whatever situation his brothers were in. You stood back in awe, a chuckle of disbelief pushing past your lips. You had just met your soulmate - the man that had been waiting at the red of your red thread - and he was a turtle. A humanoid turtle with the ability to jump over alleyways. If you decided to tell anyone, they would never believe you. And even you wondered for a moment if you had made the whole thing up. That was until you realized you no longer felt a tug in your little finger, but instead a storm of butterflies in your stomach.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader fluff #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt 2012 leo #tmnt 2012 leonardo #tmnt 2012 leo x reader #tmnt 2012 leonardo x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt 2012 raph #tmnt 2012 raphael #tmnt 2012 donnie #tmnt 2012 donatello #tmnt 2012 mikey #tmnt 2012 michelangelo #tmnt 2012 x reader fluff #tmnt leo x reader fluff #tmnt leonardo x reader fluff #tmnt 2012 leo x reader fluff

[wzrd-wheezes]

could i request a short imagine with remus x fem reader, where they’re best friends, and one day in the library while remus is talking about some book he’s passionate about, the reader just kisses him??? thank u!!!

Ink-Stained Fingers - Remus Lupin x Reader.

AN - this was such a cute request and i had so much fun writing it! thank you so much <3

Y/N’s fingers were stained with ink from her quill as she frantically scribbled on a particularly long roll of parchment, desperately trying to finish her potions essay that was due in the morning. Remus sat opposite her, his feet propped up on the table and a book gripped between his fingers.

“How many times have you read that one, then?” Y/N asked, glancing up at him.

“Dunno.” he replied, barely looking up, “Five maybe?”

Y/N smiled to herself, returning her attention to her homework. Remus would usually keep her company on her late night study sessions in the library when she was cramming in her homework last minute. She wasn’t as organised as he was usually.

Remus’ fingers toyed idly with a loose thread on the sleeve of his jumper as he read. By the looks of it, it was a book that he’d read over and over. The edges of the pages had gone fuzzy like they had been thumbed through many times and his brow furrowed as his eyes danced over the words.

“I can lend it you if you want?” Remus broke the silence.

“Are you feeling alright?” Y/N laughed, “James asked to borrow one of your books the other day and you looked like he’d just asked you to sacrifice your first born child!”

Remus chuckled, closing the book and placing it on the table.

“That was only ‘cause I know he wouldn’t look after it,” he said, “knowing him he’d probably leave it somewhere.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, dipping her quill back into the pot of ink and carrying on writing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Remus reach down to retrieve something from his bag. He took out a quill and ink and began flicking quickly through the pages of his book.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N asked, not looking up from the piece of parchment in front of her.

“‘M just writing you some notes in the margins,” he muttered, clearly deep in thought, “y’know, for when you read it.”

Her eyes snapped up to look at him and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Remus was biting down on his lip as he scribbled down his notes, a crease forming between his brows. It was as if he couldn’t get the words down on the pages quick enough.

“This is one of my favourites, you know?” he spoke, “The characters are so well thought out and the way that it’s written is honestly…”

He went on, telling her every detail of the story telling without trying to ruin it for her. His lips pulled into a smile as he spoke, the words spilling effortlessly out of his mouth. His eyes were wide and shining with excitement and Y/N had lost track of what he was saying, completely in awe of how passionately he was speaking about the book.

Y/N didn’t know why she did it, but before she had even registered what she was doing, she had leaned across the table and kissed him. She caught him mid sentence, his mouth slightly open and his lips soft against hers. Y/N pulled away quickly, her eyes widening and her heart pounding.

“If you wanted me to shut up you only had to tell me.” Remus laughed, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I’m sorry - I don’t know why I did that!” Y/N panicked, “Shit. you’re my best friend-”

This time Remus cut her off. Leaning over the table and grabbing her face with his hands. The kiss this time was more sure, his lips confident against hers, his hand resting on her jaw. He tried to pull her closer to him to deepen the kiss when all over a sudden they were distracted by a dull thud as something hit the wood of the table.

Looking down, they saw that the pot of ink had been knocked over, the dark liquid spilling across the table and seeping onto the the roll of parchment where Y/N was writing her essay. She let out a gasp, trying to snatch her work away from the ink that was spreading at a rapid pace.

“Don’t worry about it.” Remus said, taking the paper from her hands and dropping it to the floor, his eyes still fixed on hers. The ink had got on his fingers too, and he chuckled as he looked at them. “I’ll help you write another one.”

His lips quickly found Y/N’s again, their ink stained fingers intertwining.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fan fiction #remus lupin x you #marauders #marauders era #marauders fan fiction