#look at tomorrow prompt too ;DD

[littlebidule]

8. Angst

HEHEHE >:DDDD

(Nightmare 1/2)

#good omens #good omens fanart #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens art #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands fanart #gotober #pssssst don’t worry look closely and maybe you’ll see hints of what comes next ;D #look at tomorrow prompt too ;DD #(shhh i said nothing 😶)

[wraithsoutlaws]

omg 10 on the soft prompts for Dagger and DD

10) Write about your ship helping each other get ready for the day in the morning.

cw: brief self-harm mention (not explicit) “Hey,” Dagger hummed, nudging an elbow into Dum Dum’s ribs. A car horn blared outside the window followed by the ringing echo of a gunshot on the wind. The soothing white noise of life in Northside hadn’t ceased for a moment all night. Dagger didn’t flinch at either, seamlessly focusing his attention back to his hands–the half knitted sweater between them, and the blood stain drying into the soft fabric. “It’s eleven.”

Dum Dum turned over. The mattress shifted, and Cockroach scurried out from underneath the ‘borg’s arm, quickly finding a new bed in the crook of Dagger’s neck. He greeted him with a sniff before plopping down sideways and curling into a ball unbothered. If he had to, the rat could sleep through nuclear war. He thought it’s possible that Dum Dum could too. After another minute, Dagger turned the knitting needle in his palm and jabbed the end into a crevice between wires in the hardware of his back.

“Fucker,” he groaned. 

“You asked for it.”

“Mm.” 

He still didn’t move. Dagger reached over his body for his smokes on the nightstand and lit one, voice flat. Uninterested. “Royce’ll have your ass if you’re late.”

He couldn’t give two shits what Royce wanted or not, but Dum Dum pulled himself up at the prospect, optics brightening in the dark room. A faint whirring kicked on like an old fan, the familiar sound of a stubborn body coming back alive. It’d quiet as quickly as the smell of burning chrome would fade. 

“You sleep any?” Dum Dum asked.

Dagger spun yarn over his needle before his hand was pulled away and examined. The two cuts on his palm had stopped bleeding. One for each time he dozed off. Dum Dum almost frowned when he ripped it away.

No. He hadn’t slept any. 

“How many days is that?”

“It don’t matter.”

Dum Dum didn’t question it. He knew it had been three anyway, and by tomorrow it wouldn’t matter how many drugs he inhaled or how many cuts laced those palms, he’d crash hard and dream bad. But tonight he was calm. 

“What’s it today?” Dum Dum asked, shifting his focus to the tiny sweater spinning between Dagger’s fingers and when he held it up, he snorted. “Rat’s got more clothes than I do.”

“He chills easy,” Dagger said plainly. 

When the chrome cooled beneath Dum Dum’s skin he stood, stretching out the cramps leftover from a still night. Metal left him heavy, and took its toll on the soft spots in between. Sometimes Dagger could hear it creak like a rusty hinge. He moved slower after waking.

“You coming tonight?” He asked as he dragged his feet toward the gun stash across the room, snatching up a pair of discarded pants on the way. 

Dagger grinned up at him, a gleam flashing in his eyes that suggested something more lascivious to the words. His voice lowered, a purr thick with smoke. “You want me to?”

Dum Dum almost stumbled as he pulled on his pants, but he remained unreadable aside from the slight quirk at the edge of his lips. “I meant to the factory, asshole.”

“You know I don’t mind an audience.”

“Dunno anyone else wants to see your pasty ‘ganic ass.”

Dagger’s smile evened out and his gaze returned to the sweater. “Well, seems to me you already answered your own question.”

Nobody wanted him at All Foods. He didn’t take that personally. Usually, he showed up anyway, but sometimes it wasn’t worth eating shit. In the corner of his vision, he could see Dum Dum disappear behind the makeshift plastic curtain that separated one room of the small apartment from the next. The clink of gunmetal sounded like wind chimes as he loaded his weapon for later. 

Dagger was almost finished with the sweater when the pillow beside him exploded with faux-feathers. He looked down to see his own knife laying next to him, the end of the blade just barely buried into the fabric. He followed the trajectory back to the gun stash, where Dum Dum stood impatiently. He rose a brow at him. 

“You should come,” he said, sliding his revolver into the back of his pants. “I  like seeing your pasty ‘ganic ass.”

Dagger found it suddenly difficult to move his fingers. He couldn’t help but look down, checking his chest, certain that the knife had actually nestled into his ribcage instead of the pillow. It was the only thing that explained the twisting knot growing near to his heart. But there was nothing.

He looked up again.

Dum Dum had come closer. This time he threw that cracked leather jacket painted with Maelstrom’s insignia straight at him. It hit like a truck, hard enough that even Cockroach’s head popped up in annoyance.

“C’mon,” Dum Dum insisted. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a small jar of Dagger’s facepaint, the black that he drowned his eyes in. He forced the glass into Dagger’s blood stained hand. “Royce’ll have our ass if we’re late.”

Dagger had a hard time prying his eyes from him. He couldn’t stop the smile cutting across his lips any better than he could will the beat of his heart to steady.

“Fuck Royce,” he said.

But he worked open the lid to paint his face, and hurried anyway. 

#oc: dagger #dum dum #x: perfect drug #my fic tag #their mornings tend to start at night :> #also! cockroach sighting in this one hehehe #i told yall i was still working on them!!! we're getting there

[hypnotisedfireflies]

A Social Pariah

@poetic-justicesong sent me some wonderful Joel & Sarah prompts.  I dipped my toe into an early snapshot of their life in Mermaids and it’s a bit of a challenge for me, but it’s fun to push myself so I really want to dig into these.  I’m keeping them as separate posts rather than posting the ask itself, otherwise I might lose track without it floating in my inbox. :)

This is compliant for both DD and SQ.

1/? : The first time Joel has to be strict with his discipline with Sarah, where she usually has him wrapped around her finger.

The sound of Sarah wailing permeated the very foundations of the house.  It broke through her sealed bedroom door, bounced down every step and circled round and round Joel’s head like gathering rain clouds.  He ran the dishcloth under the faucet and squeezed it out, bouncing his fist up and down in midair as the little droplets escaped through his fingers.  He took his time cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, alone.  That chore was usually shared between Joel and his daughter but there weren’t no way she was gettin’ her little ass downstairs to help tonight.  No, that was a bridge too far. 

He'd thought that by the time he washed, dried and put away every dish that Sarah would be through with her tears.  But they just kept comin’ and they were giving Joel a stomach ache.  His unspoken mandate of raising a little girl who’d never want for anything or have reason to cry was at war with the fact that she had to learn the hard lessons, too. 

All grown up at eight, Sarah had been counting down the days to Poppy’s birthday party.  They were going to the roller rink, the one styled somewhere between the 50s and a John Hughes movie.  That rockabilly nostalgia of the 1980s which had given boys cheap leather jackets to sweat through in summer and poorly-styled DA hairdos.  Tommy had gotten pretty good at sculpting his own hair like that back in the day.

But then Sarah had broken the carnival glass lamp.

Look, the lamp didn’t mean much to Joel.  It was kind of ugly, bright red puckered with little golden orbs in two ornate little tiers.  It was only in the house because it had belonged to his mother, but Joel didn’t pour his attachment into such things.  People and memory were what mattered, not stuff, and certainly not stuff that looked like that.  He didn’t remember his mother having any particular feelings about it either – or his father – which was probably how Joel had ended up with it in the first place.  Luis had just brought it around one day while he was cleaning out his place and left it behind.  In most of the intervening years since, it had lived in the closet.  Joel had only taken it out recently because … well, they needed a lamp in the lounge.

So breaking the lamp wasn’t the problem.

Once the backsplash was wiped clean, Joel’s soft heart could no longer be overruled and he trudged upstairs to give Sarah one, final chance.  She wanted to go to the roller rink party so much.  It was tomorrow, Dad.  She had made her choice but she was … well, she was bringin’ the house down and making him feel like the worst father alive, so he decided to try just one more time with her.

Joel knocked on her door.

“Go away!”  Sarah sobbed dramatically on the other side.

“I’m comin’ in,” Joel told her and counted to ten, just in case. 

When he opened the door she was sitting on the side of her bed with Hoppy, her wallaby plushie, in her lap.  He was very wet.  Sarah’s face was streaked with tears and she looked so goddamn morose.  The world had ended.  She would be a social pariah. She wouldn’t know any of the stories the other girls told at school on Monday.

He sat beside her with a big, sympathetic smile.  He poked Hoppy.  “He’s getting’ a shower.”

“He says you’re the worst,” Sarah sniffled.  “Meanest dad ever.  You don’t even like that stupid lamp!”

“No, I don’t,” Joel agreed.

“You’re so mean!”

“But you know what I like even less than the lamp, huh?”

“I’m not lying! I didn’t break it!  I didn’t break your stupid lamp!”

He nodded slowly.  There was no sense arguing with her:  the lamp had been intact when Sarah started dancing along with MTV and when Joel came back from the garage five minutes later, it was in pieces. I didn’t do it!

“Last chance, babygirl.  Come on.”

All she had to do was tell the truth.

“I didn’t do it!”  She wailed. 

She’d dug herself in way too deep to give up now.  Being caught in the lie and maybe getting a stay of execution was preferable to admitting it.  She had just come too far.

Joel tapped Hoppy’s nose and came to his feet.  “Guess you’re stayin’ home with me tomorrow.”

“I hate you!”

“And next weekend, too.”

“I hate you!”

He closed the door on her and this time, as he went downstairs, he felt decidedly less guilty.  A real hardass wouldn’t have given her so many chances.

Sarah tried again in the morning.  She’d slept on it and reckoned with her predicament differently.

“I’m sorry I broke the lamp,” she said solemnly, standing before him as he drank his coffee.

He was glad to hear it, but he also wasn’t as dumb as she probably thought he was.

“Okay.  Thank you for tellin’ me the truth.”

“… can I go to the party, now?”

“The deal was on the table yesterday, baby.”

“What?!”

“When I ask you something, you tell me the truth.  Not the next day.  Not in your own time.  When I ask you.”

She gaped at him.  “Dad!”

“So next time – ”

“You don’t even like that stupid ugly lamp!”

“Nope, but I don’t much like you lyin’.  Ugly habit, Sarah.  Thought you and me were a team?”

“I hate you!”

She burst into fresh tears and dramatically flung herself up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door shut.

Joel slurped his coffee and turned the newspaper to the sports section.  “Sure, you do.”

#tlou #driftersverse #asks #tlou fanfic #the last of us #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #sarah miller #joel & sarah

[4ragon]

hiya, i saw the prompt list and I don't know if you wanted only romantic pairs (feel free to disregard this ask if it's only romantic), but I thought the last one, about making excuses to bail each other out would be interesting for young klavier and kristoph. the prompt felt really sibling-y to me :Dd think its fun to think about what it mustve been like for them growing up haha

Hmm, I mean, I had been thinking specifically romantic stuff when I reblogged it, but I’m certainly not against writing a platonic pairing! So, uh, sure!

For a few moments, all Kristoph could do was blink down at the phone in his hands. It was a simple text, all things considered.

Klavier

👋 🤏 🎉 🤚 🍺 😭 👏 🖖 👌 ✌️ 👍

“...What is this…?” he muttered to himself, all too aware of exactly what he was looking at. He pushed up his glasses for a moment, rubbing at his face with a disconcerted groan. Didn’t Klavier know he was busy? He had more important things to be doing. It certainly wasn’t his job to babysit the boy twenty-four hours a day.

It was a quiet evening. Late. Too late to be studying for the bar, perhaps, but Kristoph was nothing if not a perfectionist. Best to get started early to absorb the information. Not everyone could regurgitate every fact they’d ever learned on their first try like some snotty little brats Kristoph knew.

Speaking of…

The phone buzzed in his hands. Another string of hieroglyphics for him to interpret. Kristoph’s eyes drifted over the lot of them, debating simply turning the phone off or shattering it against the wall. Finally, he sighed, and placed the call, fingers tapping on the table irritably.

It took a few rings for anything to happen. And then—

“H-Hey bro! How’s it going?”

Klavier’s high-pitched pubescent voice crackled through the phone over the distant, muffled sounds of base-y music. He sounded nervous. Or relieved, Or both?

“I regret to inform you that our family cat has died in a terrible boating accident,” Kristoph deadpanned. “You are needed at home immediately.”

They did not own a cat. They never would own a cat. Kristoph would die before they ever owned a cat.

“Whaaaaat? Nooooooooo. Not Herr Katze!” Klavier cried, far too exaggerated to pass as any sort of genuine distress. He could almost picture the back of Klavier's hand pressed to his forehead in a pseudo-faint. “Oh no, I should…leave this study session of mine right now.”

Kristoph couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Ah, yes, your 'study session,'” he repeated, being sure to pour all his vitriol into his air quotes.

“Ja, that’s right. My…study session,” he said.

Kristoph tsked under his breath. “You understand that you are a big fish in a small pond, right, Klavier?” he asked, foot tapping on the floor. “Just because you skipped several grades doesn’t mean you have to try to impress the riff raff around you—”

“Ach, you’re breaking up!” Klavier interrupted quickly, making a few static noises with his mouth. “Well I better rush home to check on poor Mutti, she must be so heartbroken over poor Herr Katze.”

“Hmm,” Kristoph agreed. “Yes, I’m sure she will be very grateful, and owe her wonderful son quite the favor in the future, wouldn’t you say—?”

“Ja, ja, whatever you say, Kris.” He could almost picture the cheeky smile, braces and all, grinning back at him. “I’ll talk to you later. Danke!”

“Bitte,” Kristoph muttered back, hanging up before Klavier could say another word.

He scowled at the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose. Well, there went all of Kristoph’s concentration for the evening. Nothing left but to try to get a decent night’s sleep before class tomorrow.

As he pushed away from his desk to stand up, his phone vibrated once more. He paused, glancing down at the phone still on his desk.

Klavier

👏 ❤️

Kristoph raised an eyebrow, before sighing, shaking his head with a bemused smirk, and finally shutting off his phone.

(Anyway I'm still willing to do a few more prompts if anyone is interested, hmu)

#i hope this is anything #in my mind kristoph is like 20 here #and klavier is 12 and in high school with the Cool Older Kids #kristoph gavin #klavier gavin #ace attorney #fanfic #j

[imaginativeamateur]

28 with Kakashi and a fem reader (fluff), ty!

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] Seeking Warmth

|200 Followers Event|

Prompt: 28 — "Are you sure?"

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x fem!Reader

Note: Hello, I've been posting for four consecutive days :DD Okay, I kinda went overboard with this one because it was raining when I wrote this and I got in the so-called flow :DD I'm wondering if I should turn this into a multi-chapter series, still considering. Thanks for your request and hope you'll like this one!

You were glancing at the clock impatiently, it was your meeting with the fourth residence agency yet, you were still unable to find a place to stay.

Your landlord’s son came back to Konoha out of the blue and brought a wife back. They refused to live with their parents, hence, demanded you to pack up and leave as soon as, well, the day after tomorrow. You awfully regretted signing the contract halfheartedly without including any terms to protect your side. You thought you would only stay there for a few months at most. But you did not expect this day to come, being kicked out of your one and only shelter felt worse than you thought possible.

You held the advertisement information in your hand as you stomped through the streets of Konoha. The last meeting did not go well—their place was too expensive and your budget was quite tight. You went back to your apartment but the scene before your eyes shook you to the core. Boxes of clothes, books, documents, and personal belongings were laid outside the closed door, some of the boxes were overturned and half of the contents inside were spilling out, scattered on the tiles. Your mouth dropped and you hurried to the place just in time to seize some papers that were about to fly astray in the late autumn wind. You tried to open the door but it was to no avail, the seemingly scratched plane of wood stood still like a slap in your face. Kneeling down, you picked up one item after item, having no idea as to where you would seek accommodation afterward.

You sighed as you dragged yourself on the very same street that you just came from not too long ago and attracted some attention from the public. You were acutely aware of your appearance—disheveled hair, pleated clothes, and worn-out sandals. But you paid no mind to their whisper and continued to make your way to your office. You could stay a night or two there before you figured another way.

Your colleges gave you weary looks when they saw you pushing several carton boxes inside with all your might. They did not bother to help, given that you were a newcomer to the workplace and your background as a citizen originated in the Hidden Midst. From the first day, you knew quite clear that your existence here was a hindrance in their eyes. If it were not for the fact that you were kicked out of your family for wanting to be a Shinobi, you would never have to migrate to Konoha. To be honest, you liked the place and you had no complaints about the workplace's environment. As long as they did not harm you in any way, you would not reject such a wonderful opportunity, the job still provided you enough, to say the least.

The night soon took over and everyone eventually left the office. The busy hours had long passed and you found yourself alone in the chilly room. Winter was around the corner. Despite having already shut all the windows and wrapped a thick blanket around your body, you still shivered as you worked your way through the stack of documents left on your desk. You munched on instant ramen you found in the shared cabinet for dinner but the soup was already cooled after sitting on the desk for several minutes. Your eyes drooped when you returned with the only cutlery that you could find, a fork, just to see the no longer appetizing ramen.

You almost banged your head on the desk due to sleepiness if someone did not switch on the light. By that time, you only had your desk lamp on because you thought it was unnecessary to turn on the ceiling lights or the old heater in the corner of the room. You were staying back after office hours and should be thankful that the guards let you be—you knew your position.

“Why are you still here?” Kakashi questioned after he turned on the lights.

You squinted your eyes and immediately stood up to perform a bow. However, due to your numb feet from having to sit for hours in a freezing room, you almost fell forward. The Rokudaime clearly saw through your struggle and he quickly scanned the area. His frown deepened when he saw the carton boxes lying around in the empty office—you seemed to be living there from his point of view.

“I’m just staying for one night,” you explained. “I ran into some issues with my apartment rental and was unable to rent a place.”

You did not want to mention that you were also unable to pay for a night in a hotel. All of the lower-quality ones were completely full by the time you came, and you found it impossible to spend your little savings on the higher-end ones. You needed to save your money to rent an apartment. So the office was the next thought that came up in your mind, and the guards kindly allowed you to stay for one night. It should not be a problem, yet the frown on Kakashi’s face told you otherwise.

You tried to change the subject, hoping that he would leave soon, “You should go back for a rest.”

He stared at you for a prolonged while and you felt as though he was striping you bare with his gaze. Then, he left, uttering something that you could not quite hear, and he was too fast for you to ask. Therefore, you went to turn off the light and resorted back to your seat to continue with your mentally strenuous task. Not long after the silver-haired fled the place, he came back with a food container and a pair of chopsticks, “Here, eat, Y/N.”

You gaped at him. The man did not only remember your name but also brought you food. You reluctantly accepted the warm container and dug into the portion with gratefulness. It was the first time you felt warmth seeping into your barren chest for such a long time. You were away from home and the dispute with your parents before you left did not end with a positive note. Then you experienced all kinds of hardship in Konoha, switching from job to job before you found a place to settle. It was hard for you but nothing seemed to work out at the moment. You felt overwhelmed and frustrated, tears started to well up in your eyes as you ate in silence. Kakashi was surprised and he awkwardly reached out for your trembling hand that held the chopsticks but was no longer moving. Somehow, the man empathized with your situation being a loner from a young age himself. Though he did not know much about you, Kakashi felt a sudden urge to protect and shelter you.

“You can stay at my place for tonight,” he murmured.

You dropped the chopsticks and looked at him with bewilderment. It was the first time that someone offered you that much, it was natural for you to retreat into your shell, “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want to see you sleeping in a cold office with no heater or a decent place to lay your back,” he sighed. Besides, it was not right from the beginning for you to stay here though the guards agreed.

You lowered your head, aware that you just violated the regulations even though Kakashi did not make a mention of it. You wondered if he would fire you afterward and your eyes could not help but got wet again.

“Come on.” He stood up and grabbed you by your arm, frowning again at how cold your skin felt. “How long have you been in here without the heater on?”

“Everyone left at five and it’s nine right now,” you answered wearily, “so four hours?”

“You’re not going to stay here tonight,” he demanded, and you quietly followed him out of your seat.

“But Hokage-sama,” you stuttered, “is it really okay for me to—um—really stay at your place?”

“It’s not okay for you to stay here.” He answered without looking back at you. “I’ve got a spare room so don’t worry.”

Your face flushed at his words, you did not mean it that way. You were concerned that he would feel uncomfortable doing so, and the last thing you wanted to do now is to cause yet more trouble. But Kakashi was resolute with his statement, “From now on, don’t bear all the burden if you can’t. I’m always here for you, Y/N.”

------------------

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7 @tirzamisu @rinnegankakashi @the-tiniest-one @greenshirtimagines @theacevampire

#kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x reader #kakashi imagines #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi x you #kakashi hatake x y/n #kakashi hakate #hatake kakashi #kakashi hatake imagine

[c-is-writing]

May I request a number 22 with Lena luthor for the prompt physical affection list? Kissing their cuts, bruises and or scars?

thanks for the request anon!! :DD

pairing: lena luthor x gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst in a hurt/comfort sort of way

word count: 617

warnings: mild descriptions of self harm, mentions of self harm scars

a/n: this drabble deals with a bit of self harm (does not involve sharp objects) so please be aware when you read it. it's not super graphic but it's definitely mentioned. i also won't be tagging anyone on my taglist for this since the content is a little heavier than my other fics.

22. kissing someone's cuts/bruises/scars

Toying with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, you cast your eyes downwards, rocking side to side as your boss scrutinizes your work. For the past two weeks, you’ve hit a creative slump and almost considered dropping graphic design as a career. With every remark made about your most recent work, another crack forms on your wall, threatening to break and cause tears to spill over. Your hand begins to curl around your forearm, digging its nails into the skin until your attention is quickly brought back to the scene at hand when a loud booming voice is heard.

“Do you hear me, Y/N? You have one month to get your shit together and show me the creative expertise that you were so highly praised for.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, just take the rest of the day off, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, you offer a simple nod at his words as you head back to your desk to gather your belongings and head back to the apartment. Upon arriving home, you quickly make your way towards the bathroom and roll up your sleeve, taking in the damage done. Harsh red lines make their way across the skin leaving bits of broken skin and specks of blood. Before you can place a band aid on any of the deeper scrapes, a door is closed shut and Lena’s voice calling out for you rings throughout the apartment.

Looking around, she sees that the bathroom light is on and cautiously walks towards it. Like a deer caught in headlights, you stare at the raven-haired woman wide-eyed and scared of how she’ll react. Afraid to scare you away, Lena takes slow steps towards you, speaking in a gentle voice.

“Love, what happened to your arm?”

“I-” your words are lost as a sob erupts from your throat and everything comes crashing down. A soft “Oh” is heard before you’re engulfed in a reassuring warmth. Tears begin to soak into Lena’s cream-colored blouse but all of her attention is focused on you and taking care of you. Pulling back she cups your face and uses her thumbs to carefully wipe away your tears. In a quiet voice you say, “I’m sorry, Lee.”

“What are you sorry for, darling?”

“I let you down. I couldn’t keep my promise,” a few more tears slip out as you continue, “I’m a failure.”

“No, no, no, no, you aren’t a failure at all. If anything, you are so strong for making it for this long. While I’m sure that this is heartbreaking for you, I’m always gonna be by your side as you continue to recover, alright? Recovery isn't linear but that's okay because I know that you're going to get stronger with time. I'll always be here for your lows and your highs.”

Nodding, you close your eyes and rest your forehead against Lena’s chest as she rubs your back. After a moment of silence, you feel your other sleeve being rolled up and suddenly you feel vulnerable with both of your arms exposed for the world to see. Leaning back, you watch as Lena begins to press light kisses to the faded scars and scars in the making, muttering words of reassurance in between each one. Your vision begins to blur as tears well up in your eyes again.

With one final kiss, Lena whispers “I love you” against your skin as your cheeks have wet streaks along them once again. Looking back at you, a gentle smile graces her lips as she repeats those three words. You return the smile and rasp, “I love you too.” Despite being at one of your lowest lows, you’ve never felt more loved than in this moment.

#*mine #lena luthor x gn!reader #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x you #lena luthor #supergirl imagines #dc imagines #tw self harm #kk's bday celebration #request #definitely not based on personal experience /s

[inuma-kiss]

100 KISSES.

summary just the amount of times fushiguro megumi can kiss you in a day.

characters fushiguro megumi, gn reader.

format drabble / fic

word count 718.

contains fluff.

ahhh here is my first ever work on here!! im so excited to finally be writing especially for jjk bc i fucking love that anime!!!! anyways i hope yall enjoy this :D feedback is greatly appreciated <333 also im dedicating this to @inum4ki because they’re the reason i started this blog lmao hello!!!! i love ur blog!!!! ok bye :DD

When Fushiguro first met you, he never expected to fall this hard. In fact, he never expected to fall at all. You were always so full of surprises, and now that he’s here under the pale rays of moonlight with you tucked in his chest, he’s glad that you are the way that you are; because he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Do you think Itadori can get through training tomorrow?” You started the conversation, fingers trailing up and down his chest, grazing your fingernail against his smooth skin. Fushiguro keeps his eyes staring out the window of his bedroom, eyes trained on the way the clouds start to cover up the moon.

Fushiguro does nothing but shrugs, “Dunno,” he says, adjusting his head to land a soft peck on your forehead, wrapping his arm from underneath your body to your waist and pulling you closer to him. You smile, snuggling against his side. Your lips are kissing at his collarbone at first, but it starts to trail up from his neck to his jaw and to his cheeks.

Fushiguro hums, letting you love up on him, using it to his advantage as he begins pecking your forehead over and over again, resulting in a giggle to come out from you.

“You’re being awfully sweet today.” You sigh, giving him one final kiss on his cheek before returning to your previous position, basking in the warmth of his body.

“Yeah?” He asks, and you nod. He moves his head to look down at you, and you sheepishly look up at him with a grin on your face. He chuckles, pinching your cheeks before fully turning to his side, pulling your body even closer to his.

You hum, inhaling his scent. His scent felt like home to you, and as his scent passed through all your senses, you instantly felt at peace, nerves calming down and body relaxing even further.

“I love you,” you exhale, kissing his neck. Fushiguro leans away, unwrapping his arms from around your body to caress your cheeks, looking at you with so much love that your heart started warming up.

He leans in, mouth molding against yours, softly kissing you to express how much he truly loves you, from the bottom of his heart. Tears start to stream from the corner of your eyes at the passion that was passing between you and your boyfriend’s lips.

As he pulls away, he keeps your face caged in his palms, “God, I wish I could kiss you all day.” He says, leaning in for one more kiss. His mind is saying one more, but his lips can’t help but pull away and come back in for more, repeating the cycle.

Your giggles are ringing in his ear, prompting him to keep kissing you. “Megu!” You throw your head back as his kisses lead down to your neck, and his deep chuckle muffled by your neck rings throughout his bedroom. Once he pulls away, you lightly slap him on the side of his arm, “You know, we need to set a limit on the amount of times you can kiss me.” You pout, and Fushiguro furrows an eyebrow, laying on his back and moving to pull you on top of him.

“It’s not like I can kiss you as much as I want to anyway,” Fushiguro grumbles, moving his hands to your waist, “That Itadori fool is too nosy.” Your boyfriend grumbles to himself, and you roll your eyes, leaning down closer to him, your face inches away from his.

“I’m saying for when you do kiss me, idiot.” You say, kissing the corner of his lips, “I’d say maybe fifty?” You tease, and Fushiguro looks offended, causing a laugh to leave your lips. The same laugh that was like music to Fushiguro’s ears.

“Fifty? That’s too low.” Fushiguro tries to bargain, but you shake your head, teasing him more, “What about a hundred?” He’s hopeful now, and with the way that his face and body was glowing under the moonlight, how could you say no?

“Okay.” You whisper, leaning your face closer to his, lips dangerously close to each other, “A hundred it is.” You say before sealing the deal, bringing him into a kiss that ended the night for the two of you.

copyright © inuma-kiss 2020. do not repost, modify, or plagiarize.

#fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro fluff #fushiguro megumi fluff #fushiguro x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fics #f.soft

[missdrarrydawn]

------------ Occupy My Heart ------------

Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

warning: implied smut, brief mentions of drinking

~~~

written for the lovely @leydileyla who offered me this absolute gem of a prompt that I simply couldn't pass up

hope you enjoy hon :DD

~~~

You were really starting to feel the buzz of the Butterbeers a few hours into the Interhouse party that was thrown for all the returning eighth years. You're such a horrible lightweight, Butterbeer is just vaguely alcoholic, if at all. It warmed you up and left a pleasant tingle in its wake. Just enough to let the music and lights around you blur and blend, to ripple against your skin and soothe. The smell of the ale cookies served at various tables scattered around the one conjoined common room for all the Houses now wafted through the thick, cloying air, between meandering bodies of various dancing students, all the scents making your head spin from where you were sitting at the little makeshift bar.

The party's been wilding on way past curfew but no teachers arrived to interrupt you yet so it was fair game. Everything felt so liquid and pleasant, the atmosphere sticking to your slick skin, the warmth and haze prickling at the back of your neck.

Gods you needed a shower. Perhaps you might sneak away to have a quick one? The party showed no signs of slowing down and you were drained.

As you pushed away from the bar, colors still swimming before your eyes from all the sparkle and decorative banners strung up everywhere, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You felt eyes on you.

Turning about to find the possible culprit, you registered a flash of platinum blonde hair in a darkened corner and the piercing glow of silver eyes lingering on you.

Draco.

A chuckle rumbled from your chest as you allowed yourself a moment to revel in his gaze before melding into the throng of people, sliding between them, trying to remember whether your dorm was the door on the left or the right upstairs. It wouldn't do to barge into someone else's dormroom.

As you made your way along you still felt pins and needles in your back, as if someone was keeping pace with you. Goodness, that was incredibly paranoid, wasn't it? You vowed to yourself to never drink Butterbeer again. Even slightly tipsy you were a disaster.

Finally you got through everyone and into the quieter part of the room, where all the dorms were. There were only a few people milling about there, stumbling off to their rooms with whoever they pulled or to retch or simply pass out.

The beat of the music was muffled here, no longer a steady, beating ebb flowing through your skull, now more resembling a foggy memory. It was easier to think, to breathe. You've never been much of a party animal, but this one was important. It celebrated unity and the war being over, it celebrated those who lived and fought. It mattered to attend. After Hogwarts rebuilt and reopened, the first thing that changed was the system of the four houses, headmistress McGonagall had dismantled it entirely after witnessing how horrific segregation could be.

Everyone was thrown in one mixing pot, which had been strange at first, but throwing a party like this really helped scrub out the imaginary lines in the sand everyone had drawn between themselves.

Speaking of scrubbing, you finally arrived to your dorm and basically collapsed through the door in your quest for a shower. Where was the bathroom door again? Ah right, over there, of course.

You slipped through, the bright Lumos having you squint for a second while your eyes adjusted from the dim haze of downstairs to the sparkling clean of tile.

Right. You closed the door behind you and began to undress, your clothes peeling away from the sweat plastered all over you from all the vigorous dancing you'd done.

As you kicked off your shoes and set your bare feet on the cold floor, a distinct icy chill ran up your legs and through the rest of you, shivering away the brittle buzz you'd worked up, cooling you down.

Once your clothes were a discarded pile on the floor, you stepped into the shower and pulled the fogged glass door shut, fiddling with the taps before a spray of warm water finally hit your face and shoulders.

What a relief.

You began to scrub and lather yourself up, cleaning off the night with the water sluicing down your skin, your mind starting to wander as you relaxed into the moment more. Warm showers were a treasure.

Draco was staring at you back there. For a brief second you made eye contact before you left. Did that mean something? You felt silly for wanting to know but that boy has occupied the vacant spaces of your heart for far too long now, and you couldn't help but hope that his intense, focused gaze meant something more.

As you began washing your hair, a knock on the door startled you out of your skin. You almost poured shampoo into your eyes for heaven's sake!

"Um—occupied?" you yelled out, hoping to be heard over the gush of water. If someone needed the bathroom urgently then they could come in to use it, it's not as if anyone would see you in your birthday suit, but if it wasn't urgent then they could find another one.

"Ahh, Y/N, it's—uh, it's me! I was just wondering if you were okay?" a familiar voice from the other side of the door spoke up.

You knew that voice. It was so familiar. Who—

You felt every bit of you freeze as your brain spat out the answer for you.

Draco. It was Draco.

Checking up on you.

What should you do now? Your heart began hammering away quicker, this was hardly the time or place to flirt or attempt seduction and—

Well. As you considered the statement that just flittered through your mind you found it not entirely true.

You were naked after all, naked and wet. What more perfect scenario for seduction did there exist?

"I'm okay Draco, um—you can come in?" you yelled back, lips stretching into a smile. Technically he shouldn't be here at all, seeing as these were girls quarters and all, but if he's been invited it shouldn't be too much of an issue. If he accepted, that was.

There was silence for a few beats, the moment dragging on, you almost thought you'd scared him off, but then—

The soft, distinct click of the door being opened and shut.

Bingo.

Now, how exactly would you do this? You supposed you could ask him to get you a towel when you were done, and let him have a glimpse.

Merlin it sounded corny as all fuck, but you were prepared to do what it takes.

Until then though, you supposed you should talk about anything, keep the atmosphere up.

You could just barely make out his tall, foggy outline through the sliding glass of the shower, and you watched him move to sit down on the toilet seat.

Wait a second—if you could partly see him, did that mean he could partly see you too?

That was even more perfect.

"Hi Draco, you like the party?" you threw out the question casually, hoping to lessen the strangeness of the situation. You and him were friends, well, acquaintances more so, so it's not as if you've never spoken berore, but still. This was way different from any interaction youve had prior. "Thank you for checking up on me."

"Ahh ahem—no problem Y/N, you seemed a little tipsy back there so I uh—I thought you might—Well yea." he stumbled through his words, hardly even finishing the sentence properly.

That was—quite uncharacteristic of Draco Malfoy. He was always the one with the silver tongue, the sharp remark, had a comment to spare for anything, and to hear him stutter and hiccup his way through speaking as if he were a nervous school girl talking to her crush was very new and strange.

You'd be lying if you said it wasn't endearing as all hell though.

You could have a lot of fun with this.

"I see I see. I did build a bit of a buzz but nowhere near as bad as some of the other characters around this place. I mean, did you see Zabini strip his shirt off and then dance on the tables? Goodness." you simply continued along, as if this were a casual conversation and you weren't naked and washing out your hair.

"Haha, yeah, yes, Blaise will have one hell of a hangover tomorrow." Draco chuckled, though it sounded breathy and rough, somehow.

You were almost done now.

"Parvati will too, say, could you brew a vial of that potion of yours, for hangovers, for her? She's my roommate and I loathe to hear her whining tomorrow. You're the best at it, after all." You let your voice linger above the spray.

This time, Draco audibly spluttered and you saw a flurry of blurred movement, which eased a laugh past your lips.

"Um—yea, of—of course. I can do that. Um, Y/N isn't this—I don't know, a little strange?"

He sounded so thoroughly flustered, which really got you hoping. The stares, checking up on you, doing you favors, getting flustered by the situation, hm.

Hm.

It was worth a shot anyhow, right?

Time for a new plan.

Another chuckle rattled through your ribs. This was insane.

You grabbed the handle of the door and slid it open just enough to lean your head through. You could finally get a good look at him. He was sitting on the toilet seet, his entire face splotched and flushed all down his neck, wringing his hands and bouncing his leg.

When he heard you slide the door open he turned his head abruptly and you heard his breath hitch as he got a look at your face and shoulder sticking out, his eyes sliding from your eyes to your lips, lower still, to your neck and collarbones and—then he remembered himself and turned away abruptly.

"I'm sorry! Oh Merlin, are you—are you done? Do you uh—need a towel or—?" He began to ramble all in one breath and you just continued smiling fondly at his turned back.

"Oh Draco, won't you come in here with me already?"

You held out your hand and patiently waited. You could imagine this would be quite a fallout.

Draco stood completely still when the words left your mouth. One minute, two minutes, three—

The water drying on your skin while more sprayed down had gooseflesh rising all over you. Still, you waited.

"Um—what?" Draco whimpered eventually, voice giving out on him at the end there.

"You heard me." you assurred him.

The hum of running water was the only sound bouncing off the walls again, the very faintest echo of music from downstairs lilting through the closed door.

Draco turned to face you again, he looked wrecked. Eyes wide and dark, his pupils basically swallowing the silver irises, hair disheveled, breath coming in gentle pants.

"You want—?" he mumbled, his voice betraying his own hope and eagerness.

"Yes. For a while." your own smile widened, and for a second a pang of anxiety struck you as you realized he was about to see you naked, but it all dissipated into pooling heat and want as you watched him slowly reach for the first button of his mint green button up shirt and slide it loose. His wide eyes never left yours and you watched the slight tremor in his fingertips as he freed every button, one by one, until his shirt opened and slid off his shoulders, fluttering to the floor.

God he's delicious. All lean, well defined Seeker's physique, the pale marble of his skin an endless expanse. You let your eyes wander, drink in the sight, slide across his chest and lower, over his taut abdomen, hanging up on the waistband of his pants. An outline pushed against the seams there, your mouth watering at the visible bulge.

"Me too." he mumbled, as if you needed any more proof or reassurance of his desire, his hand slowly reaching for his zipper now.

Oh what a lovely party it's been indeed and it was about to get so much better.

~~~

Fin.

#x reader fic #hp fanfic #draco malfoy x fem!reader #party #getting tipsy #showers #implied smut #brief mentions of drinking #tipsy!reader #protective!draco #humour #seduction #getting together #long post

[jobean12-blog]

For Old Fashioned DD's tomorrow: "Your hair is so soft." with Beefy Bucky or another Bucky of your choice ❤️

Happy Hair

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You and Bucky do each others hair :)

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club Old fashioned drunk drabbles day! Thank you all so much for reading! And thank you @jewels2876 for the lovely prompt! Much love always❤❤❤

Warnings: FLUFFS 

“Can I do your hair Buck?” He lifts his eyes from his book at your quiet question and breaks out into a smile. “Of course, doll face. I’d love that,” he answers, shifting on the couch. “Where do you want me?”

You giggle and untangle yourself from his limbs. “Hmmm, sit up please,” you say, squeezing in behind him. You realize you only reach his shoulders and rest your head against this back. “Well, this won’t work. You’re too tall!”

“I can sit on the floor if you want,” he suggests before sliding down. Now you have perfect access to his hair.

“Yay! This works, thank you baby,” you hum as you start combing your fingers through his chocolate strands. “Your hair is so soft.”

He turns to look up at you with a soft smile, “thanks baby doll but you have the most beautiful hair.”

You kiss his head and push it back down. “Let me get my brush.” You hop off the couch and run into the bathroom, returning with your brush and some hair ties.

Brushing through his hair you watch his eyes close and shoulders relax. You decide to braid a few strands before pulling it back at the base of his neck.

“All done Buck,” you tell him, laying your arms over his shoulders in a hug.

“Thanks baby girl. That felt really nice,” he sighs. “Can I do yours now?”

You squeal a ‘yes’ and climb over him and into his lap, snuggling against his chest. He takes the brush and gently runs it through your hair, placing soft kisses to your neck every so often.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #hbc old fashioned drunk drabbles #bucky barnes drabble #bucky imagine

[bugsbucky]

It’s Not A Micro

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: DD: He hasn’t been in a relationship for a long time. All his dates seem to hit it and quit it. You have this thing… you tease him that they don’t stick around because he’s got a micro-cock. One day he shows you exactly how wrong you are.

Warnings: inappropriate comments, smutty, might be one or two bad words. 

Word Count: 1,151

Authors Notes: This drabble is for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ thank you for letting me do this one and thank you @jobean12-blog​ for reading this for me and giving me your feedback! You’re awesome as always!! This is proofread but again, I don’t guarantee anything :)

A smug smirk grows on your lips as you observe the super soldier from the couch in the common room kiss his date goodbye and watch her try and leave as fast as possible. Her heels click-clacked down the long hall and the elevator dinged at the end of it. Bucky walked into the kitchen with a hand through his hand exhaling a deep breath as he rummaged through the refrigerator for something to eat. Settling on some fruit and orange juice, he joins you in the common room, sitting on the opposite couch.

“Another bites the dust eh?” you asked while sipping your delicious coffee. The strong beverage making its way home to your taste buds.

“What?” he asked with a frown taking a bite of his banana. A little inappropriate thought creeps into your mind and you bite your tongue.

“Your date. She couldn’t wait to get out of here. How come they never stick around?” 

Bucky swallowed the mouthful and pointed the half eaten banana in your face. “Why don’t you concentrate on your own love life instead of mine?”

“Ohhhh someone didn’t get enough last night.” you cackled and watched him get up and leave with a grunt and a string of curses.

You didn’t see Bucky for the rest of the day, whether or not he was purposely avoiding you was unknown. You managed to get a workout down and take a hot shower to change into something more comfortable. It was early evening by the time you finally left your room and the team were congregating in the common room, lounged out on the expensive couches. Even Bucky was there, sprawled out on the recliner massaging chair with his thighs spread and his thick hands resting atop of them. 

“Hey Y/N. Come join us, we’re having beers and a fun chat.” you shrugged and joined them, sitting on the second recliner massaging chair next to Bucky. And to your luck, the team were pressing Nat for details about the package under Bruce’s belt.

“I bet he’s really small.” Wanda laughed covering her mouth.

“Oh god girls. Come on, let's talk about something more better.” Bucky intervened taking a sip of his beer. You watched his lips wrap around the rim and his tongue dart out to capture the escaped droplet.

“Why Barnes? You hiding something under your belt?” you wiggled your eyebrows and his eyes narrowed.

“Never had a woman complain, doll.” 

“Psssht. Guys I’m telling you, every single date Bucky has brought here can’t wait to go the next morning.”

“What are you trying to say then Y/N?” Bucky quipped, turning his body to face you.

“That maybe size really does matter.”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. “I’m a super soldier doll. I’m bigger than the average man.” he defended and you cackled.

“Orr maybe, he has a micro cock.” 

Sam spits his beer out, spraying poor Clint in the process as he chokes on his beer that went down the wrong way. “Y/N! I CAN’T BREATHE!” Sam was laughing hard and gasping for air at the same time. The rest of the team join in and this annoys Bucky.

“I don’t have a micro cock. Is a Microwave small?”

“That’s what guys with a micro cock say.”

“Alright, alright. If I hear the word cock one more time I’m banishing everyone from this compound.” Tony warned, pointing his fingers at everyone.

The conversation turned lighter, the team talking about their favourite vacation spots. Your eyes kept glancing towards Bucky, a red crimson blush on his cheeks. You noticed he was more fidgety and kept readjusting himself in his pants, shifting around in his seat every now and then. Which was a common thing for a man, you couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable it might be to have a pair of saggy old men balls hanging down. You’d probably be shifting in your seat too. A laugh bursts out from your lips from your weird thoughts, startling everyone in the room. You waved your hand in the air and stood up.

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight friends!” A chorus of goodnights followed as you bent down and kissed everyone on the cheek. It was just your routine since tomorrow was never promised. It didn’t matter how much teasing everyone did, everyone loved each other like a family.

You made it to your room, your mind still going back to the weird cock conversation. You teased him a lot about the girls that never stayed, and honestly they were fucking idiots. You dressed into some pyjamas and pulled the duvet back, about to get in it when there was a loud knock.

“Who is it?” you yelled, looking at the time. Strange, nobody ever bothered you this late at night.

“Bucky.” with a deep sigh you dropped the corner of your duvet and walked over to the door, pulling it open with a bit too much force. “Can I come in?” he walked in anyway and you chuckled. 

“Uh sure.” you closed the door with a thud and before you could turn around his voice came again.

“Lock it.” you peeked over your shoulder and raised an eyebrow. Did he want to talk? You did as he asked and locked the door, folding your arms across your chest, pushing your breasts together as you walked back towards your bed.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” his breathing was fast and heavy. Your eyes flickered down to his hands and widened when they were fumbling with his belt. He pulled his zipper down and unbuttoned his jeans, shoving them down his legs, allowing the denim material to pool around his ankles. “What are you doing Buck?” you took a step back when he took a small step forward, his jeans confining him. He kicked them off and stalked towards you, pressing you up against the wall.

“I’m gonna prove to you I have anything but a micro cock.” his nose nuzzles your neck, he kisses and nips down to your collarbone. He takes one of your hands and places it on his hard bulge. You gasp, feeling how hot and hard he is through the thin material. 

“Oh god. You’re so big.” you said out loud. Bucky pulled back, chuckling as he guided you towards your bed. He pushes you down and you moan softly when the thick comforter meets your back. His fingers hooked on either side of your pyjama shorts, pulling them down with your panties attached. He softly spreads open your thighs and kneels in between, sucking his fingers in his mouth. 

“Bucky.” your chest rising and falling with each breath you took. His wet fingers guiding through your sticky folds and you moan, grabbing a fistful of hair as he pushes them inside. 

“Oh baby. We’re going to have so much fun tonight.” he whispers huskily, attaching his lips to your throbbing clit.

Taglist: @jobean12-blog​ @marvelgirl7​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @hawksmagnolia​ @deanthedemon​ @crushedbyhyperbole​

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #hbc prompts #hbc drunk drabbles #hbc on quarantine #hbc extended drabbles #hbc drabbles #bucky barnes smut #avengers au #prompts #drabbles #one shots #bucky barnes one shots #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes drabbles #bucky fluff #bucky and reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns fluff #hbc #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff

[witcherslittledove]

A prompt sent to my main by @reveniemus that I made DD with permission! This will be on AO3 probably tomorrow.

Have some Geralt/Jaskier/Valdo.

CW: Non Con (Poor Valdo), Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Inappropriate Use of Axii, blow jobs, anal sex, threesome - M/M/M, rough sex, humiliation.

__

Jaskier smirked as he sipped at his wine, watching his dearest nemesis peacock from across the room. His witcher’s hand was on his thigh, a low growl in Geralt’s chest as they watched the man who had attempted to drag Jaskier’s name through the mud and ruin his reputation. It was only Jaskier’s high standing at Oxenfurt that had saved him from falling from grace, but the Academy’s hands were tied and Jaskier was not allowed to bite back at Marx.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t have his revenge, it would just have to be a more crude execution. Luckily, Jaskier had Geralt on his side, and the lovely witcher was rather smitten with him, so desperate to please him. Even if that meant going against that adorable moral code of his.

And thus, Valdo Marx was in more danger tonight than he could possibly realise. They weren’t going to hurt him, not physically at least. That would be too obvious, too hard to deny. No, Jaskier planned on scarring his rival in a more mental capacity. Valdo had nearly taken Jaskier’s entire career from him, his reason for existing, so Jaskier was going to take Valdo’s body. He just needed a little assistance from Geralt to… convince his dearest rival to agree.

“That him?” Geralt asked, voice low so only Jaskier could hear over the music.

Jaskier hummed in agreement, catching Geralt’s wandering hands in his own and bringing them up to his lips in a kiss.

“It’s too busy, too many people.”

Too many witnesses.

“Not to worry, dear heart,” Jaskier sang sweetly, and then slid from his seat and strutting over to the troubadour. “Marx, you overgrown peacock!” he called loudly, distracting the audience. “Why don’t you let some real talent play, darling?”

“If any arrives, I will,” Valdo shot back with a smirk that Jaskier couldn’t wait to wipe off his face.

Jaskier hissed, his fists clenching at his side, but he managed to bite his tongue before he could launch a full attack. “Your life surely must be a misery if you cannot see that I am clearly the superior bard, please, indulge me, dearest.”

Valdo scoffed but gestured to the shitty makeshift stage. “I need a drink anyway, try not to murder my eardrums.”

Excellent, the plan was coming together. Valdo would head over to the bar and Geralt would be able to lure him upstairs with a quick flash of Axii whilst Jaskier was entertaining the crowds. The audience was quickly captivated by Jaskier’s performance as he danced and twirled around the room, ignoring the stage as he flirted with the most beautiful people, fleecing them of their coin. His eyes tracked Geralt as he led a rather docile Valdo Marx away from the bar and upstairs, then after just a couple more songs, Jaskier announced that he was done and thanked them for their time.

He had other business to attend to.

By the time Jaskier had reached their room, Valdo was stripped naked, his clothes crumpled and wrinkled on the floor. His silvery grey eyes were blank and unseeing as Geralt watched him from where he was leaning on the wall. The witcher gestured to the helpless bard on the bed as if to say ‘all yours.’

Jaskier winked, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips as he approached the bed, his cock already filling out, his head dizzy with power. “Oh Valdo, look at you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so quiet.”

“Hmm.”

Grabbing a fistful of Valdo’s dark brown hair, Jaskier pulled his rival’s head back, admiring the lack of fight from the normally bratty bard. “Can you snap him out of it whenever?”

Geralt nodded.

“Brilliant, wait until he’s choking on my cock, then we’ll see what he has to say,” Jaskier winked. “Care to open him up for me, love? Don’t be too careful, we want him to feel it.”

The witcher rolled his eyes but dutifully joined Valdo on the bed, slicking his fingers in oil before pushing two of them into the bard's hole. Even in his drugged out state, Valdo whimpered, tears springing to his eyes. Jaskier noted with delight that his dear rival was hard, and if they wanted to, it would be so easy to pretend the little whore was with them willingly, but Jaskier had no such wishes. He wanted this just as it was, the knowledge that they were taking this without permission burning through his veins.

He wondered why he’d never thought to do this before. He could have fucked Valdo a hundred times over when they were students at Oxenfurt, the bastard slept like the dead, he probably wouldn’t have even woken up.

Gods, he was messed up.

But Geralt was right here with him. The monster slayer helping a monster… how quaint.

Every sound and helpless whimper that fell from Valdo’s lips only heightened Jaskier’s arousal, until he found himself palming against his cock in a bid for release. Geralt’s own erection was evident in his sinfully tight leather trousers, his eyes blown wide as he caught Jaskier’s gaze. He looked magnificent, his fingers deep inside Jaskier’s rival, silver hair falling in front of his face, his eyes almost as black as the night.

Jaskier moaned, tearing at his own doublet and trousers. He left his shirt on, too desperate to bother with it as his breeches and smallclothes fell around his ankles. He was almost tempted to jerk himself off, cumming all over Valdo’s face and hair. The other bard loved to look as perfect as possible so the image of him covered in Jaskier’s spend was almost too much.

He bit back a moan, stroking his cock lazily as he winked at Geralt. “Ready, love?”

Geralt groaned, his eyes trailing down Jaskier’s body, hungry and wanting. “Yes,” he grunted.

This time, Jaskier couldn’t contain his moan as he pressed his cock into Valdo’s mouth, gripping his shoulders as he tried to steady himself. His breath hitched as Valdo’s jaw went slack and there was very little resistance as Jaskier’s cock was enveloped by the slick heat of his rival’s throat. Gods, the bastard would struggle to sing tomorrow if Jaskier did this right, and under the sign of Axii it seemed as though Valdo had lost his gag reflex, taking Jaskier deep into his mouth until Jaskier was fully sheathed.

He almost came from the sight alone.

It was heaven sent.

“Now,” he hissed at his witcher.

Geralt’s fingers moved quickly, one hand gripped on Valdo’s hips to keep him still and pressed against his clothed erection. Silver eyes brightened with recognition and Valdo choked beautifully around Jaskier’s cock, but before he could protest, Geralt had pulled his own trousers down, fucking into the bard with one sharp thrust.

Any cries that would have escaped were muffled by Jaskier’s cock, but that didn’t stop Valdo moaning helplessly or clawing at the sheets beneath his fingers. His eyes were wide and pleading, tears catching in his long eyelashes. The poor bastard could do nothing as Geralt fucked into him, pushing his mouth further onto Jaskier and every moan, cry and pitiful whimper sent shivers of pleasure down his spine. It was electric, sparks of lightning flying through his body like magic.

The best part was the dribble of pre-cum leaking onto the sheets beneath Valdo. Despite his protests, Valdo’s body was reacting perfectly, and Jaskier knew exactly how to dig the knife into his rival’s soul.

“Such a pretty little bitch,” Jaskier cooed, “taking our cocks like this. Gods, Valdo you’re already leaking. I bet you were just desperate to be fucked, you wouldn’t have said no even if we’d given you the chance, would you?”

Valdo couldn’t reply, but Jaskier could see he was trying to shake his head.

“Now, now, darling. You can’t lie. I can see your arousal, and I have no doubt that my dear witcher can smell it on you. You’re going to cum on our cocks, aren’t you darling?”

There was another muffled cry, but Jaskier just pulled at Valdo’s hair, fucking into his mouth with little care. It felt sinful, wet and warm around him, a hole for Jaskier to use no different from his arse was to Geralt. The noises coming from the room were obscene, no better than a whore house, as both bard and witcher chased their pleasure from the less than willing body beneath their hands. Geralt grunted, his eyes squeezed tight as his head dropped forward. Strong muscles bulged as they held Valdo in place, his scarred skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

He looked like a gift from the gods, everything that Jaskier ever desired.

“Fuck,” he groaned, as Geralt’s thrusts grew erratic and Jaskier felt his own carefully crafted control start to crack.

But it was Valdo spilling onto the sheets, moaning around his cock, that sent Jaskier over the edge, and Geralt followed soon after. Once they managed to catch their breaths, Geralt and Jaskier tidied themselves up.

“Well this was a delight, Marx, truly a pleasure,” he winked at Geralt. “But my witcher and I must leave you now. No hard feelings, dearest.”

And then they left, leaving Valdo covered in cum and sweat, sobbing into the filthy sheets in some forgotten inn at the edges of civilization.

#the witcher #dead dove do not eat #jaskier/valdo #geraskier #valskier #geralt/Jaskier/valdo

[give-me-back-my-rhodey]

Make ME

Title: Make Me Creator: Purple_ducky00 Rating: Teen Warnings: none applicable Relationship: Sam/bucky Square Filled: O3 – Undercover Mission for @samwilsonbingo Summary: Sam and Bucky get under each other’s skin, and neither of them can stand the other. How long til these idiots learn that it’s not hate, but love between them? Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754915

Prompted from this post by @rambeaus

“Who died and made you king?” Bucky grumbles.

 Sam throws up his hands in annoyance. “For fuck’s sake Barnes! You know this is the best way to do this!”

 “No, I don’t! This way has many flaws. The slightest movement could set off a chain reaction of…” Bucky’s tirade is cut off by Natasha walking between them with sterile gloves and picking up the mouse trap, sticking the remains of the mouse and the trap in a plastic bag.  She rolls her eyes at them and walks out of the kitchen.

“Do you see what you just did there? This could have all been taken care of if you just listened to me!” Sam growls.

 Smirking Bucky turns away. “Bite me.”

 Sam’s temper flares as he watches Bucky walk away. What is it about the soldier that makes Sam’s blood boil? Every interaction they have ends in an argument… And for some reason, Rhodes had put them on the same team! When a few deep breaths don’t calm him down, Sam heads to the gym. Might as well let out some aggression on something he can’t hurt.

 ++++++++ “What were you thinking putting those two on the same team?” Tony laughs as he lays down in his husband’s lap. “The UST is off the charts. They are going to finally snap and either kill or fuck each other.”

 Rhodey shakes his head. “I know. And that’s why I put them on the same team. I’m sick and tired of them skirting around the issue. No use delaying the inevitable. They both have too much of a sense of duty to not complete the mission, and I’m going to assign a mission leader to go with them to keep them on track. Now, who should that sucker be?”

 “I would tell you Steve because I love trolling him, but he would only stop them from doing either. Give the job to Sharon. She deserves it after the whole blow-dryer incident.”

 “Tony, that was five years ago.”

 The retired superhero sits up to glare at Rhodey. “I’m still not over it.”

 “Ok, ok. I’ll send Sharon. She’s close with them anyways. Hopefully, she knocks some sense into them.” Rhodey concedes.

  +++++++++++++++++

Sam and Bucky are seated across the table from each other in the conference room, listening to Sharon’s plan. “So, we’re going undercover as actors in the Bachelorette.  We have intel that the host of the show is somehow funneling contraband drugs and black-market arms for HYDRA. Bucky, Tony made you a flesh-like sleeve for your arm, and we are all going to be using holomasks to cover our identity. Do you both have your characters memorized?”

 “Yes. I am Tucker Acktenbee. Raised by my mother and her sisters, I know how to appeal to the feminine side. Growing up in Massachusetts, I love seafood and cranberry jam and pies. Before I applied here, I graduated from LSU with a bachelor’s degree in English. I am twenty-six, and my birthday is October 19.” Bucky says as he pulls the holomask over his face. He looks like a completely different person.

 Sam rolls his eyes and does the same. “Hey, baby. My name is Joshua Perkins. Born and raised in New Orleans, I also share an affinity for seafood, but my insides can handle the spice. No one’s going to want a bland piece of white bread like Tucker when this bombshell is available. With a master’s degree in psychology, I’m here to help with whatever emotional needs a woman has. I’ll be twenty-seven on April 15th.”

 “Good. Good.” Sharon nods. “Just so you remember, I am going to be in the camera crew so my ears will be open for any rumors. Pack your stuff. We have to be on set in 24 hours to rehearse.”

 “I don’t know about you, Barnes, but I’m going to win that Bachelorette’s heart.” Sam nudges Bucky with his shoulder.

 “Better a fake relationship than none for you, I guess.”

 This man makes him so angry! “Fuck you.”

 “Nah, better leave that for Miss Bachelorette.” Bucky sends him a syrupy grin and walks out of the room before Sam can reply.

 “Arrrgh!” He groans, and Sharon looks at him strangely. “Sorry, Shar. He just gets under my skin so easily. I just want to strangle him sometimes!”

“Yeah… strangle him…” She nods slowly.

 “What are you implying?”

 Raising her hands in surrender, Sharon backs up. “Hey, I’m not kink shaming. You do you, my friend. Just don’t tell me about it.” She picks up her clipboard and tablet. “Wheels up in nine hours.”

  Kink shame? What the fuck? Needless to say, Sam is very confused.  There is nothing kinky about his and Bucky’s relationship. They clash at every turn. If he slammed the door when he stormed out of the room, he’ll never admit it.

 ++++++++++++

“Hello and welcome to The Bachelorette! I am your host, Chris Harrison. Join me as we find this year’s Bachelorette a husband. At age 28, Penelope Darnea previously worked in insurance but is looking to branch out to another occupation. She loves baseball and the beach and is always down for a margarita. Now, let’s take you to our woman of the hour as she greets the contestants!”

 Bucky is one of the first contestants to the mansion. Penelope Darnea is a beautiful woman with societal “perfect” features. As he walks up the stairs to the mansion, she greets him. “Hello, welcome to the mansion! Tucker Acktenbee?”

 “Yes, it is.“  Bucky leans down to kiss her hand. “Can I tell you just how ravishing you look? The man you choose will be incredibly lucky indeed.”

 Blushing, Penelope waves him on. “I can tell that you’re a charmer.” Bucky is escorted to a room in the mansion as Ms. Darnea greets the next contestant. He uses the time he has to think about the mission. Somehow, they have to act as contestants for the Bachelorette and figure out how they are funneling the money without the network realizing. And he has to do it with Sam.

 His therapist once asked him “What does Sam do that gets on your nerves?”

 “The better question is what does he do that doesn’t get on my nerves?” Bucky had replied. They always have the stupidest of arguments about the most meaningless things. Both of them hate to lose. His head perks up when he hears someone in the hall. “Here is your room, Mr. Perkins. If you need anything, please ring the bell.” The host goes through everything as he did in Bucky’s room.

  “Thank you, sir. Much appreciated.” Oh fuck. That’s Sam’s voice. Bucky understands why they would put Sam beside him in case a quick update to the mission is needed, but to hear that voice at all times of the day? He can only take so much torture. Thankfully, a host comes to get him for an “exclusive” interview. Bucky stays true to his character but does not miss Sharon manning the camera.

 After the interview, he is told that he can fraternize with the other contestants, but he cannot use someone else’s set time with the Bachelorette for his own. That is an instant disqualification. Bucky confirms his understanding and returns to his room. Changing into a new outfit, he decides to take a walk through the house. He’ll let Sam come to him first.

 ++++++++++++++++++

A week goes by, and the second rose ceremony is coming up. Both Sam and Bucky make sure to spend time with Ms. Darnea, but also meet up in Bucky or Sam’s room every night to see if they’ve seen anything suspicious.

 Bucky has kept a close eye on the host but so far nothing looks fishy. Sam has been scanning other cast and crew members and has come up with nothing. They are quickly running out of options, but there are still a good portion of contestants left.

 “Why don’t we check the host’s quarters? He has to have something there.” Bucky suggests. That was the dumbest fucking thing Sam has ever heard in his life. “Dude. There are cameras everywhere. If we get caught, our cover is blown. We have to just wait for some kind of shipment to get here. The set can’t have had enough food stocked for a month.”

 “But what if we can’t wait that long? What if he’s getting stuff out another way? Then HYDRA has supplies, and they’ll hurt more people. We can’t let them do that.”

 Sam scoffs. “What do you think they have? Air ducts under the mansion?”

 “Go fuck yourself.” Bucky gives him the finger.

 “Make me.”

 Bucky’s eyes darken in anger. “I just might….” He cannot finish his sentence before there’re is a knock on the door.

 “Mr. Perkins, your date is set up.”  Someone calls through the door.

 “Now if you’ll excuse me,” Sam smirks and straightens his collar, “I have a woman to seduce Tah tah! Have fun!” And then he sashays out, enjoying the look of pure anger on “Tucker’s” face.

 He walks down the hallway with the camera crew following him to the porch outside where Penelope is waiting. “Well Joshua, what date do you have planned for us tonight?”

 “Well, my lady, you say you like excitement, correct? I have bought us tickets for skydiving. Does that sound enjoyable to you? Once done, we will grab dinner at that new Italian restaurant, Sal’s, I think? They serve the best tiramisu.”

 “Oh, that sounds lovely.” Penelope purrs, rubbing his arm with her hand.

 Crooking his elbow, Sam offers his arm. “Shall we go?”

 It is long after midnight when the couple returns from the restaurant. Sam looks up and sees the curtains are halfway open in Bucky’s room. That means he has some news. “I dd not realize they like you stay the entire night.” Penelope marvels. “Wow, Joshua, you are so cultured.”

 “Oh, it’s nothing. “Sam waves it off. “Just something I’ve picked up in my travels. Have a good night Beautiful. I hope to see you again tomorrow. Water aerobics class?”

  “Why yes. I do love water aerobics.” The bachelorette pokes his shoulder with hard, bony fingers. It hurts! Taking his leave of the lovely Bachelorette, he goes back to his room until the cameras leave. Then he walks over to Bucky’s, who updates him on the next shipment coming in. They will be ready then.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It is the day after the latest Rose Ceremony. There are only five contestants left. We have gathered these remaining contenders to give another “exclusive” interview. “So how are you feeling about the contest?” The host asks each participant in their interviews. Here are the responses.

 “I’m feeling pretty good about it. Ellie and I have had many a good date together. I do think she will choose me in the end.” Carlton Hayweather comments.

 Nathan Abbey snorts. “Well, there are five of us left, so she can only pick one, right? And the amount of time Perkins and Acktenbee spend in each other’s rooms, we really don’t have to worry about them. So basically, there’s three of us.”

 “I’m feeling confidant,” Joshua Perkins leans back in his chair. “I believe I have made her laugh the most, and I do believe humor and friendship are major keys in a relationship.”

 Terrance Filippo tilts his head. “Eh, if I win, I win. If I don’t, I don’t.”

 But it’s Tucker Acktenbee who wins the hearts of most watchers. “Penelope is a very strong woman. I trust that she knows who is best for her. I do hope it is me, of course, but should she choose another, we must all concede fair and square. We have to stop assuming we know what women want or need. She is capable of knowing it herself, and I wish her the best.”

 Are you excited for the next round? I am!

 ++++++++++

“Tucker, Joshua? The producers of the show would like to meet with you.” An event manager pulls them from the pool area.

 When they arrive in the office, the head producer, Carole Teller, claps her hands. “Great acting out there! Have you seen this interview?” She shoves a tablet in front of their faces. Nathan Abbey’s face is centered on the screen.

 “Oh, he thinks we’re gay?” Bucky asks.

 “Yes, and if you are, we don’t discriminate, although I wonder why you’re here if you are. But it doesn’t matter. The question is, would you be able to pretend at least for the screen? I don’t mean a full make-out session, but maybe the camera catches a glimpse of you two in the corner. Ratings will go up, and there will be added drama.”

 Bucky is about to object when Sam shrugs. “Sure. We can do that. Is that all you need?”

 “Yes. Thank you for coming in. Good work out there!” She chirps and then turns her full attention onto something else.

 “I guess we’re dismissed.” Sam shrugs. “Come back to my room. We have to strategize.”

 Once they get back to Sam’s room, Bucky pushes Sam up against the wall. “What the fuck did you agree to that for?” He hisses. “First of all, that means the show is queerbaiting and I don’t like that! Second of all, how is this going to help us?”

  “We can hide in little alleyways and closets. Who knows what clues we could find there? Do you hate me that much that we can’t play nice and kissy for a week or so?”

 “I can kiss you. I am a great actor, thank you very much.” Bucky leaves go of Sam.

 “Then do it. Kiss me.” Sam challenges. “Make me.” Bucky thinks the conversation would be ended there, but Sam grabs him by the face and plants a deep kiss on this lip. Caught off guard, Bucky is not ready for that, but quickly kisses Sam back.

 “Wow. That wasn’t so bad after all.” Sam says, wiping his face with his sleeve.

 Bucky scratches the back of his head. “Not… too… bad, I guess.”

 Now that one kiss has been made, many more are to come. Bucky and Sam take advantage of their “hidden relationship” to sneak into closets and hallways. They find that the next shipment will be coming in early the next morning.

 Bucky is taken away to get ready for his date. The dinner and show are quite enjoyable, and Penelope asks him back to her room. Bucky agrees. Once inside the door with the cameras off, she pushes him to a machine and flips the switch. The electricity runs through him and holds him to the machine. Tsk what am I going to do with you?” Penelope asks. “You shouldn’t have come, Asset.”

  “You can’t…. control me. The words don’t…. work anymore.” Bucky forces out through his pain.

 “True that might be, but I can break you. My mother broke you the first time. Don’t think I don’t have her notes.” She smiles wickedly. “Too bad you had to snoop in places you just didn’t belong. Now I’m going to take you and all my goods< and I’m taking you back to base where we can finish our experiments. How does that sound?”

 “Like we got it all on tape!” Sam bursts through the door. “Hands up Lady. We’ve got you.” He rips off his holomask, showing his face.

 “Drop the gun, or I electrocute him.” Penelope warns.

  Sam puts the gun on the floor and slides it halfway over to the villainess. As she bends down to get it, Bucky summons his strength to break free of the current and kicks her. Immediately, Sam tackles Penelope to the ground and wrestles the switch from her, accidentally setting it on high. Bucky convulses and screams. In panic mode, Sam clicks off the current and frees Bucky, who falls to the ground, unmoving. Quickly chaining the Bachelorette to the machine, Sam works on reviving Bucky. “Bucky! No! You can’t die. I just realized that I love you, and if you don’t wake up and get up, so help me I will kill you myself.”

  Bucky’s lips move minutely, and he whispers something. Sam leans down to heard Faintly, Bucky whispers with a grin, “Make me.”.

#sambucky #sam wilson #Bucky Barnes #idiots in love #samwilsonbingo

[imaginativeamateur]

can you do 30 with kakashi and a fem reader pls 🥺🤲 I love your work and am so happy for you regarding your follower milestone, congrats !!

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] The Power of Love

|200 Followers Event|

Prompt: 30 — "I mean it."

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x fem!Reader

Note: Aloha, I'm back!!! Thanks for the request and the cheers😝 Okay, this one is AHHH, the title :DD This one is very sentimental but playful at the same time. There's like some serious talk but also entertaining moments, too. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Constant requests that you get married were sent in your way for the past several months. Your parents were tired of having to wait to see you bring a man home, but you had no intention to comply. The topic would come up to the table during dinner every now and then, with your mother furrowing in her brows and your father sighing in distress. On your part, you played cool, soothing them that you just found a guy and dismissing the matter with a feigned grin.

Everything would be ordinary, much to your own liking until your parents secretly signed you up for a match-matching service. You had a big argument that night but they smugly smiled and ensured that you would fall in love with him immediately. It was ridiculous.

“You’d be head over heels in no time, Y/N,” your mother said.

“Like she knows who he is,” you mumbled, scoffing on your way back to your apartment.

Though you completely shut the door to the new romance—the guy that you presumably knew nothing about—you woke up earlier than usual, earlier than you should. You blamed it on your neighbor’s child crying but you discerned that you were being irrational. The whole situation was aberrant. You purposefully threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt that was too worn out for a first date. Still, you could not be any more careless, the last thing you wanted was to get the man to generate some form of adoration for you. You checked yourself in the mirror and made sure that you looked representable nonetheless.

The sun was already high up in the sky when you locked your door and tiredly dropped the keys into your handbag, storming to the destination with angry steps. It was your day off and you could have spent your time on something much more meaningful, training, for example. Kakashi-senpai said you still needed to hone your close combat skills. You pursed your lips at the thought of the Hatake, feeling even more enraged and annoyed. The said Shinobi was a nice guy, he was gentle and mannered with everyone but you. He treated you like his kid, bossing you around, requesting you to dig through the shelves of bookstores to find the limited edition of Icha Icha that was recently published. But you did not quit being his subordinate. Kakashi had everything that you needed to harness, from his skills to knowledge, and you would never let such a golden opportunity go wasted.

Being with him for two long years brought you many benefits and visible improvements, one of them being your patience. You were short-tempered and Kakashi was just the perfect tame to your boiling climate. The silver-haired veteran knew you were cantankerous on some days, like today, when you were having an involuntary sunbathing session, and would always be later than he usually would. Over the drenching months, you grew indifferent to his tardiness, adapted to his peculiar conscience of time, and no longer rambled when he arrived. He would come up with the most bizarre excuses to get away with it, and at first, you were furious about it, but you found them somewhat adorable now.

You smiled, wondering why you were recalling your moments with Kakashi when you were waiting for your date to come. You bit the inner side of your cheek when you realized your patience was running thin—it reminded you of your silver-haired senpai. Releasing a shaky breath, you calmed yourself down, assuring that you would apologize to the man that it was merely a misunderstanding with your parents that they signed you up for today. You rubbed the surface of the table with your fingers and let your thoughts carried you away at the moment, unconsciously drumming the rhythm of your favorite song—his favorite song that you grew accustomed to after years of the very special silver-haired occupying your day.

“You seem nervous.”

Your head perked at the unexpectedly familiar voice, “Kakashi-senpai?”

The silver-haired settled himself in the opposite seat with ease, “Good morning, Y/N.”

“What are you doing here?” You did not bother to greet him back properly due to the tremendous shock being registered into your system.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to… to,” you came to a halt, fumbling with the hem of your shirt when you found it impossible to continue. It was embarrassing.

“Blind date?” He questioned, quirking a brow.

Your cheeks heated up in modesty, unable to answer his beseech.

“That seems like a yes,” Kakashi leaned back, enjoying your flustered state, “I’m here for a blind date, too.”

“A what?”

“A blind date,” he repeated without failing to lose his composure.

It took you several seconds to comprehend the whole situation, then you shifted in your chair, propping your elbows onto the table to hide your blush, “This is such an… interesting encounter. But I won’t change my mind.”

You were fairly absolute with the plan to turn the whole thing down, despite whoever was your date, despite it being Kakashi Hatake. You did not want to risk the bond that took you so long to form with him and the trust that he enlisted you upon. You could not.

“I also came resolute,” he made a simple, yet down-to-earth statement. Kakashi caught your eyes and challenged, “What do you want to do after a coffee date?”

“No,” you jerked away, “what are you saying? Are you okay, senpai?”

“We’re on a date and you still call me senpai?”

“Look, we’re not going to do this, we can’t, Kakashi,” you tried to explain but to no avail.

The silver-haired smugly smiled, “Good, Kakashi sounds much nicer.”

“I’m not joking,” you cleared your throat and glared at him.

“Neither am I, Y/N. I mean it.”

Your lips fell apart as the coherence in your mind shattered into bits and pieces. Kakashi silently observed the fleeting expressions that you made, waiting for your response.

“I don’t know,” you stuttered. You knew who Kakashi was and the tragedy of your occupation. The two of you did not deserve anyone’s love, for once that you held the chance of breaking their heart. You looked away from his eyes to conceal the wavering of your emotions, “I never thought about life in that way. I don’t need a man in my life, that’s what I’d like to believe. I don’t want anyone to feel battered when I’m gone.”

“I hate it to see those I love cry and mourn, too,” he mumbled. You listened attentively as though it was yourself confessing to the dark. Kakashi continued, “I only live for a certain amount of time but I have been constantly filling it with despair and loneliness. There were things that I want to do and people that I want to love, but because of my fear of hurting them, I didn’t. But after the massive loss that I’ve experienced, everything was different, I understood how painful regret actually is.”

Tears began to well in your eyes the more his words dropped. You balled your fists, blinking profusely to prevent the warm droplets from escaping. Kakashi noticed your quiet sobs, running his fingers over your trembling hands, loosening your grip, and interlacing your fingers with his. You released a heavy sigh and pulled both your hands back, wiping away your tears as quickly as when they fell and dampened the fabric of your jeans.

“You’re not at the bottom of agony when you lose someone important,” Kakashi breathed, “it’s when you feel empty after they’ve left and mourning on what you could’ve done when they were still with you.”

Your sobs eventually assuaged as you chewed on his words. The silver-haired distracted himself by stirring the liquid of his drink, but he was in no state to enjoy its taste. He already said everything he wanted to say, and the decision was now fully on your shoulders. But by your lack of response, he was sure that you did not see your relationship taking another form—the way that he wished. He abruptly stood up from his seat, fleeting on his feet, “Let’s forget about what’s happened. I mean I still respect you as my teammate, Y/N. Don’t forget our meeting tomorrow.”

“No-no, Kakashi-senpai, wait,” you moved, hastily shoving your hands in his direction, gripping his wrist like a vice. You hung your head low to avoid his investigating gaze as you spoke, “I do.”

His gears in his head turned, and Kakashi smiled with satisfaction, “You do what?”

Your heart was beating frantically in your chest, so fast that you felt its rapid pumps in your throat. You stuttered out, voice growing quieter the more you expressed, “I-I want to go out with you, senpai—”

“Drop the ‘senpai’ already,” he playfully hissed and you grinned, certain that you just made the best choice of your life. Kakashi leaned down and rested his chin on your shoulder blade, snuggling his face into your neck, “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for letting me love you.”

------------------

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7 @tirzamisu @rinnegankakashi

#kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x y/n #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x y/n #hatake kakashi x you #hatake kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake imagine #naruto x reader #kakashi imagines #kakashi fluff #kakashi fanfiction

[tracybirds]

Don’t talk to me about timelines XD lockdown 3.0 was an unpleasant surprise but it did give me some fun fodder to play with. Missing from this were the stream of Valentines to Covid that spread around my section of NZ social media XD I was tempted to make Scott write some, but alas it didn’t fit. Obviously plenty has been fudged, it’s definitely not meant to be taken too seriously and more allows me to collect together some of the mixed emotions of getting a five hour countdown to lockdown D: That was not fun lol like far out, and we had to prepped for remote learning by 9am the next day. Scott is not allowed to complain further in his swanky apartment and no job XDD

In all seriousness, this is Scott’s story for FabFiveFeb2021, hosted by the ever lovely @gumnut-logic (Happy Birthday! still the right day in Aus, I didn’t miss it right :0 either way *hugs*** and I hope it was a nice day :DD)

Prompt used was “Are you kidding?” - it really resonated on Sunday evening ahaha (okay I will stop rambling in my defense it’s post midnight and I have feverishly pummelled this out in a couple of hours, it had been itching at me all day.... I missed that feeling :DDD)

----------------------

Scott was International Rescue through and through, but in the murky waters of the central business district, he thrived.

It was a closed meeting, stretching into the long shadowy hours of the evening. Legal advisors quibbled over clauses while Scott exchanged pleasantries with the company representatives, talking up his local ties to New Zealand’s City of Sails.

“My Dad taught me to sail, right out there in the harbour, you know.”

A casual remark but carefully designed to make himself seem approachable and down-to-earth, just another “one of the guys”. His associate had also sailed once, a national representative in his youth, although time and his new habit of lunch meetings had left those days long in the past.

Personal connections made more money than the lawyers in the background ever could, and Scott prided himself on the homegrown touch.

“Mine too,” said the jovial, middle aged man. “Although I reckon it wasn’t near as pretty a yacht as yours. I’ve read up on you as well, you know.”

Scott laughed, clapping the man on the shoulder.

“Len, I knew we’d get on. What do you say to dinner? This has been going on for far too long.”

“I know a great place that keeps a table reserved for me. Even on Valentine’s.”

“I’m flattered.” He nodded to Van Zyl briefly before addressing the small crowd.

“Ladies, gentlemen. You’ve done some good work, and it’s been a long one. We’ll leave it here for the night and reconfer in the morning.”

He acknowledged the tired smiles and leaned back and listened as the chatter evolved from the dry intricacies of patent law into cheery conversation of dinner plans and family time ahead.

He turned and looked out at the city, lights starting to turn on in the early evening light. The sun wouldn’t set for another half hour or so and he wanted to make the most of what they had left in the day.

So did the rest of the Auckland population it seemed. Cars were flooding into the area, people starting to stream into office buildings.

“So, Federal Street?”

“Len, what’s going on down there?” he asked, jabbing a finger down at the street below.

“Sorry?”

He and Len watched, dumbfounded as the office buildings lit up one by one, lights turning on and off again mere minutes later.

“Mr Tracy! Mr Van Zyl!”

“Charlotte, what is it? What’s happening?”

“Oh, Scott, I mean, Mr Tracy, sorry sir.”

“Charlotte. Take a breath,” commanded Scott, letting the authority of Thunderbird One bleed into his voice. “Tell us what’s happened.”

Charlotte shook her head, her hand creeping up over her mouth. She handed him her tablet.

“It’s a civil defence lockdown, effective midnight.”

A cold dread crept up Scott’s spine.

“Tonight?!”

Len pulled out a comm beside him and started dialling. The person on the other end picked up at the first ring, and dimly Scott could hear her calm, measured voice transmitted through the device.

“Can I help?” he asked, still staring at the stark words on the page.

“I… uh... help? Sir?”

“With the civil defence response, with the company, I don’t know!” He looked up, desperation in his eyes. “What can I do to help?”

Charlotte shook her head, pressing her lips together tightly.

“Mr Tracy, we have an isolation response in place, at your father’s request. Leave the board to organise the company, you need to get home and…”

“No.”

Charlotte’s voice pitched up a near octave.

“Sir, I must insist…”

“There are lockdown protocols on the island as well,” snapped Scott. “I can’t just go home, risk my family, my Grandma.”

She shook her head again.

“You can’t help here. They’ve done it before. It’s Level Three, people will be able to collect gear tomorrow if needed, we’re set up for remote offices and the last thing people need is you dilly-dallying in the top office.”

A loud shrieking alarm pierced through her final words and Scott flinched at the sound.

Len yelped next to him, dropping his comm with a curse.

“Damn emergency alerts, don’t they know the whole country has heard by now? Why do they just SHUT UP!” he bellowed at the still beeping comm. “It’s so unnecessary, the first time we went under, I thought we were about to evacuate for a volcanic eruption. Staying home, it’s hardly an emergency.”

Charlotte did little to hide her scorn, but Scott smothered a smile as he read through the full message.

“Okay, fine,” he said at last. “I can bunker down at the apartment for a few days.”

“Weeks, I’d be prepping for,” interrupted Len. “Hard to say of course, but they keep extending them.”

“You know why we do it,” said Charlotte, coolly.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I have to pretend it’s a holiday like everyone else seems to do.”

“Well, there never was any rest for the wicked, they say,” quipped Scott.

Len barked a sudden laugh.

“You’re alright, Tracy. Shame about how this ended, I’d have liked a bite with you.”

“Well, there’s always next time. Maybe we’ll find time for a shared celebration after all this.”

“My treat, Tracy, my treat,” he said with a chuckle. “Take care now.”

Scott nodded a farewell and turned back to Charlotte.

“You’re going to be fine?”

“I’ll go stay with my Mum,” she said, easily. “She doesn’t like to be in her house alone, and I can’t say I blame her. Holotech’s just not the same as being there, you know?”

“I certainly do,” said Scott, thinking of his brothers, hundreds of kilometres away. “Thank you, Charlotte, I’ll be seeing you.”

“Good luck, Scott.”

***

The downtown apartment was a mere fifteen minute walk from Tracy Tower, but with Charlotte’s words echoing in the back of his mind, the thought of potentially weeks stuck in an incredibly well furnished, yet incredibly unstocked apartment plaguing him, he opted to swing past the local supermarket. Located at the heart of the city, it was never quiet at the best of times but this was unlike anything Scott had ever seen.

The tension in the packed shop was thick as the throng that filled it. Over half the customers were already wearing masks, glaring suspiciously at those who had gone without and Scott self-consciously tugged his rain jacket higher.

Essentials, he thought wildly, just eggs and milk and bread and….

There was no bread. No flour either and the confectionary aisle was already looking sparse. He grabbed a few chocolate bars and threw them in the basket.

“Excuse me,” he said, waving down a frantic and wild-eyed shop assistant. “Do you have any bread out back?”

“No way man, haven’t you heard? Lockdown hits in like three hours, people are going mental.”

“But I don’t have any food at home, I was meant to be flying back tomorrow morning.”

The shop assistant, Ariki as his name badge proclaimed him, grimaced in sympathy.

“That’s hard luck that is. You don’t live in Auckland?”

“No, I don’t. But I won’t be able to get home now either.”

He nodded, like he’d heard it before.

“You’re thinking this is like last year, aren’t you?”

“I, uh, yes.”

“Right,” said Ariki, still nodding along with him. “Right, well it’s not quite the same so don’t stress out. Look, you can still get takeaways this time, we’ll be restocked tomorrow and all the real crazies–” he nodded towards a pair who were arguing over what looked like the last can of baked beans, “–yeah, they’ll be tucked up at home, refusing to take a step outside, it’ll be sweet as.”

Scott stared at him, then looked over at the line snaking through the frozen food aisle, between the meat and dairy and coiling up in the sad looking and so-called fresh produce.

The two chocolate bars and eggs he’s managed to grab hardly seemed worth it at all.

“I can put those back if you want.”

“Yeah,” said Scott, dazedly. “Yeah, thanks that’s be great.”

Ariki smirked a little.

“We’re reopening at seven, yeah? I’ll see you then.”

“Thanks again,” called Scott as he hurried from the shop.

The rain that had been threatening its arrival all weekend was starting to appear, and Scott hurried home, ducking his head down and shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew there’d be enough food for at least his dinner tonight and Ariki was right, he could sort the rest in the morning.

A swipe of his keycard, and he shut out the world with a muffled slam of the door and a sigh.

He shucked off his rain jacket, not bothering to hang it up, and trudged into the kitchen. It wasn’t like there’d be anyone around to complain for a while and he was starving. Lunch, the little afternoon tea nibbles they’d provided, even his last coffee felt like it had been drunken in another life.

Dinner, then finally he’d call home.

He didn’t doubt they already knew what was happening, was probably wondering why he hadn’t called, but none of them had even been swept up in the chaos of lockdown preparations.

He stared blankly in front of the fridge, the cold, bluish light illuminating him in the dark room. The sun had fully set by now, and the last vestiges of twilight had given way to the true, deep night with the onset of rainfall.

His carefully defrosting steak wasn’t on the shelf, and he looked around him in confusion, wondering if he’d accidentally left the meat out on the bench. He was hungry enough that he didn’t think he’d care and his stomach was well practiced at digesting the indigestible, bug and all.

On the kitchen counter was a neat pile: a plate, used utensils and cooking equipment all stacked together, waiting to be washed.

Scott blinked.

“Oh, hey, Scott,” called Gordon’s cheerful voice from behind him.

Scott whirled around, gaping at his younger brother, suddenly in their New Zealand apartment and not where he ought to have been – namely a thousand odd kilometres north east of the kitchen they were standing in.

“Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“You,” Scott shouted, jabbing a finger towards Gordon. “You ate my dinner!”

“Oh, crap.”

Gordon bolted a split second before Scott charged at him, yelling wildly with all his might.

“Scott, I’m sorry, it was – shit, I mean – come on, it was past nine, I thought you’d been out, and I, oh damn, I, Scott, damn it, I’m not dressed.”

“I don’t care, you ate my food, have you seen the grocery stores? It’s absolute chaos, you traitor, you can go out and get me something, put some pants on and move.”

Gordon yelped as he dove over the couch.

“Okay, I can see there’s been some errors in judgement here,” said Gordon, panting. “I’m sorry, Scott, I really am.”

Scott glared.

“Not good enough.” He paused, eyeing Gordon as he cowered behind the sofa. “What are you even doing here?”

“Uh, excuse me?”

“Here. What are you doing in Auckland?”

“Happy birthday to me too, love you bro, congrats on surviving another year.”

“You came to Auckland for your birthday?”

“Yeah.” Gordon sat up cautiously. “Couldn’t exactly see Penny, and it’s not like there’s many other places that will let us in.”

“I thought we counted as a US territory.”

“John cleared it with someone, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Didn’t want to be stuck at home for my birthday. And look how that turned out.”

He did look extraordinarily sorry for himself.

Scott sighed, and reached out a hand.

“Go get some damn pants on,” he grumbled. “And go look for Virgil’s emergency snacks, I know he stores them everywhere.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it, don’t you dare come back unless you bring me food.”

Gordon snorted.

“Sure, wouldn’t want to provoke the wrath of a starving Scooter.”

Scott jerked his body towards Gordon, and smirked as he bolted up the stairs towards the bedrooms, before sinking down into the cushions and closing his eyes.

The comm beeped gently, a stark contrast from the blaring alert from earlier.

“Hey,” he said, opening an eye as Virgil was projected in front of him.

“Tell me you’re not–”

“Oh, I am.”

“Gordon too?”

“Yep.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it.”

They were both quiet for few seconds, thinking about how rapidly the world had seemed to shift around them.

“I suppose it’s only for a few days,” began Virgil, but Scott was already shaking his head.

“We gotta do the full two weeks. After that, we ought to be able to clear an exit with the harbourmaster and the coast guard, even if it’s not over, but we can’t come back earlier. The only reason we could move freely before without our helmets is because–”

“Preaching to the choir, Scott. I get it.”

“You gonna be alright without us?”

Virgil shrugged. “Rescues are down what with more people staying at home. Alan and I can handle the small change, and Kayo’s been itching for some POD practice recently. We’ll manage. Besides, you’re the one stuck with Gordon.”

“Hey!”

“Food,” growled Scott and Gordon threw a muesli bar and a tube of M&Ms at him.

“Is that mine?”

“Gordon ate my dinner and the shops were out of everything,” grumbled Scott. “Blame him.”

“It’s my birthday, I don’t deserve this.”

“Cry me a river.”

“Alright, don’t kill each other before the two weeks is up. John’s already organised a betting pool, don’t give him the satisfaction of winning again, he’ll be insufferable.”

“Oh, he’s on,” said Gordon, grinning. “Tell him I put fifty bucks on Scott tipping me out of bed or off the couch by the end of the week.”

“Got it.”

“You can’t bet against us,” said Scott, mumbling around the chocolate. “I thought you were on my side.”

“You tried to murder me over a steak.”

“The jury would have never convicted.”

“Okay, I can see you two are going to have a fun time,” said Virgil, loudly over their bickering. “See you in two weeks.”

He didn’t wait for a response. After all, two weeks was a smidge outside even his patience.

#scott tracy #thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #sometimes i fic