#mal writes

[mountain-in-springtime]

push

pairing: jake x fem!reader | word count: 4.4k | warnings: swearing, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls) | my masterlist

summary: an unexpected visit from your ex turns into something more

author’s note: so first things first this is named after the matchbox twenty song but let’s not focus on that!!! I started this fic forever ago and brought it up multiple times, but it’s finally here!! i’m really happy with how it came out, but also i’m new to writing smut so sorry if it’s not the best!! ALSO this is my longest fic by far AND it’s my tenth gvf fic that i’ve posted here so yay!!! also the second half of this is not proofread so sorry

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The harsh knock against your door rang through your apartment, pulling your attention away from the movie playing loudly on the TV in front of you. An irritated groan fell from your lips as you dragged yourself off of the couch and plodded to the door, swinging it open. Upon seeing the man on the other side, you silently cursed yourself for not looking through the peephole.

“What are you doing here, Jake?” you asked, your voice hostile as you eyed him with a cold glare.

A small smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, but he at least had the decency to try and hide it. “Hello to you, too,” he greeted, his voice too even for your liking, “I just came to get my shirt. The navy one with the buttons, y’know?” He spoke with his hands, and his fingers trailed along the buttons of his half-open shirt, drawing attention to the bare skin of his chest. The question caught you off guard, and upon your lack of response, his eyes peered into your apartment, his body leaning forward, but he was careful not to cross the threshold.

After a long pause of awkward silence, you sighed defeatedly and stepped back, allowing him to walk through the door. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen it, but I can look, I guess,” you grumbled and turned away from him. You marched into the living room and grabbed the remote, making sure to make a big show out of pausing your movie and tossing the remote back down.

Your eyes anchored to Jake as you faced him again. He leaned against the kitchen counter and nonchalantly looked about the room. It was a sight that was so familiar to you, but now it left a deep, twisting knot in your stomach. He shouldn’t look so comfortable here, and you blamed yourself for ever giving him the chance to be. Still, you couldn’t deny the lingering fondness that fell upon you when you saw his handsome frame relaxing in a place that was so intimately your own. If you looked at him long enough, you could almost feel all the memories of hurt fade away, unearthing the happiness you once shared together.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” his question rang in your ears as it pulled you from your daze and reminded you exactly who you were talking to. He looked at you expectantly and raised his eyebrows as he waited for an answer.

You rolled your eyes. “That ship sailed a long time ago, Jake,” you seethed, sending him a glare that could kill.

He simply shrugged and relaxed even further against the countertop. “Just thought I’d ask. Since you kept looking my way, y’know?” he quipped.

You scoffed, not even dignifying him with an answer. You knew he was only trying to get under your skin, and unfortunately for you, he was doing a damn good job at it.

“I’m gonna go look in my closet,” you stated as you walked towards your bedroom before turning back and looking at him again, adding sternly, “Stay there.”

You watched as he held his hands up in mock surrender. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he remarked, and it made you want to march over to him and knock the smirk off of his lips. Instead, you just let out a low groan and stomped down the hallway. You heard him call out a sarcastic, “You say something, doll?”, which you ignored, deciding that humoring him would only make his behavior a million times worse.

As you reached the door to your bedroom, you threw it open and stormed to your closet. You pulled the worn, dangling string, turning on the closet light as you began to rifle through the clothes hanging inside. A stream of curses and grumbles fell from your lips, your frustration barely contained, and to make matters worse, you still couldn’t find his stupid shirt.

When you reached the end of your rack of clothes you let out a loud sigh. Great. You tilted your head back, moving to run a hand over your face when something caught your eye. On the top shelf of your closet, you noticed a familiar back brim peeking out. Jake’s hat. You groaned again but thought that at least he would probably leave you alone if you gave him the hat. Then you could go back to living separate lives and acting like nothing ever happened between you, the way normal exes do. But then again, nothing about Jake was exactly normal.

With a huff, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes and reached for the hat. After a few moments of blindly grabbing atop the shelf, your hands closed around the brim. Unfortunately, when you pulled the hat loose, it sent an avalanche of shoeboxes and forgotten keepsakes tumbling down onto the floor, knocking you to the ground and earning a loud yelp from you.

“Fuck,” you grumbled as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You started to move boxes aside, trying to get up before handling the mass of clutter around you when you heard footsteps coming from behind. As you turned to the doorway, you saw Jake sauntering into the room. He tried and failed to hold back a laugh as he saw you on the floor.

“Had a little accident?” he asked as he moved to you. He continued to chuckle to himself as he grabbed boxes, carefully closing them and setting them aside in a neat pile.

You groaned. “I recall telling you not to come in here, Jake,” you said with a glare that would turn anyone else to ice but only made Jake smile wider.

“Oh, I’m sorry, princess,” he retorted, “Didn’t realize helping you was some sort of grand offense.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his remark. “I don’t need you to help me.” Your hands closed around the box he was holding, ripping it from his grip. The gesture caused him to let out a loud, irritated groan, which made you smile. It was a short-lived victory, though, as the contents of the box flew across your bedroom floor, spilling out pictures of you and Jake that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away quite yet. Mortified, you scrambled to pick up the photos before he even had the chance to see what they were.

It seems you weren’t fast enough, however, as Jake bent down, lifting up one of the snapshots, staying silent for a moment as he studied it. Finally, he spoke. “Looks like someone misses me,” he said, smirking down at you as he turned the photo around in his hands.

You quickly rose and snatched it from his hands. “Shut up. I was gonna throw that away, anyway,” you lied as you bent down to gather the polaroids that littered your floor, gracelessly shoving them back into their box.

He looked at you with a wide grin and crouched down to your level. “Hey, baby,” he cooed as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We had some good times together. I’m sure it’s a little hard to forget.” His hand reached out and slowly wrapped his fingers around your wrist, his touch searing hot on your skin.

“Well, those times are over, Jake. I moved on,” you answered as you ripped your hand free from his hold and got up from your place on the floor, desperate to distance yourself from him. You turned your attention to the rest of the clutter that littered your floor and pretended to be busy shoving hats and pieces from old Halloween costumes back into your closet.

“Then why are you hoarding a box of our old pictures, baby? Surely someone as strong as you wouldn’t have a problem tossing them out, hell, maybe even burning a few” he challenged. The tension in the room immediately thickened, and you stopped dead in your tracks. When you looked at him, his eyes met your own with an infuriatingly smug expression. He caught you off guard, and he knew it.

“I…,” your brain scrambled to find an answer, something to say to get him off of your case, to make him think that you had the upper hand, but words completely failed you. You stared at him blankly, your cheeks flushed and your lips parted.

He took a step towards you, and you could practically feel the space between you getting smaller with every movement. “And another thing,” he started, “if you’re so ‘over me’, then how come you can’t keep your eyes off of me? I saw how you were staring at me in the kitchen. Don’t deny it, babe.”

You swallowed thickly as he looked expectantly at you, waiting for your answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered out, and you hoped with everything in your being that he believed you.

A small “tsk” fell from his lips as he shook his head at you. “Lying’s not gonna get you what you want, princess,” he teased, his hand reaching out to rest along your neck, his thumb grazing your skin carefully.

You pulled back from his touch and glared at him. “I don’t want anything from you, Jake. Not unless it involves you leaving this apartment and staying out of my life forever,” you seethed, trying to keep your voice even.

“I don’t believe you,” he answered, a sly grin on his face, “But you’re a big girl. It’s your call. Just look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me. You do that, and I’ll be gone. That’ll be that.” He eyed you intensely, and you could feel the heat in your face rise. He was challenging you, daring you to deny him, and despite your pride and your anger, you just couldn’t do it.

You stared at him in silence, fighting against your mind and heart until a small, pitiful, “…Jake,” fell from your lips in a whimper.

He smirked and leaned forward. His hand wrapped firmly around your waist while the other gripped the back of your neck, pulling your face until it was an inch away from his. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered as he crashed his lips onto yours.

An uncontrollable sigh of relief escaped you as your fingers came up to lace through his hair. You wasted no time breathing in his scent and melting into his touch. You spent so much time holding onto the hatred and hurt you felt that you forgot how badly you wanted him. You forgot how good he could be.

His touches were hungry and impatient. His hands gripped your flesh roughly, pulling you close and leaving bruises in his wake. You moaned and gasped against him as his kisses consumed you, all teeth and tongue and aggression. He was beyond lingering feelings and simple desire. His thoughts of you in this moment were consumed by a hungry, insatiable need.

Your hands moved to grip his, pulling them toward your center. You felt his calloused fingertips toy with the hem of your panties that peeked out from under your jeans, but they remained there. You whimpered in frustration, trying to move his touch further down, but you felt him resist, and it was clear that this was going to be happening on his terms.

“What do you want, baby?” he breathed out between kisses, “Tell me. Use your words.” He smirked at you through half-lidded eyes, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, but, eager to get what you wanted, you swallowed your pride, mumbling softly, “I want you to touch me, Jake. Please.” Your eyes met his, desperate and pleading, but you could tell by his returning gaze that this wouldn’t be so easy.

His lips quirked up in a smug grin as his eyes raked over you, taking in the obscene beauty of your swollen lips and red cheeks. “Aw, is that what you want, honey? My touch? You want my fingers on you, in you?” he asked, his voice teasing.

You nodded timidly, hoping that he would show you a little mercy and give in to your desires, but you knew that was just wishful thinking.

He smirked wickedly at you. “Alright, princess. Then apologize,” he commanded.

A small squeak of disappointment left you. “...Apologize?” you asked, confusion and frustration coloring your voice.

He nodded, “Mhm. Tell me you’re sorry, and then I’ll maybe give you what you want.” You could feel his fingers fidgeting with the elastic of your underwear, making you restless beneath him.

“…Jake,” you whined, “please…” Your eyes bore into his, hoping desperately that he’ll give in and spare your ego, but as his hands slowly began to pull away from you, and he gave his head a small shake of disapproval, your desire overtook your pride.

You grabbed his hand, pulling it back to your skin. “Wait,” you whimpered. A small, ragged breath fell from your lips. “I’m sorry.”

A slow, mischievous grin bloomed on his face. “Sorry for what, princess?” he asked. You could tell how much he was enjoying torturing you, and it only made you want him more.

You let out a pitiful whimper as apologies tumbled from your lips before your brain could stop them. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I’m sorry for playing so hard to get, for being so mean to you, for starting all those fights with you. It was stupid, and I was selfish. I should have known better. I should’ve known that you’re the one for me. Only you. I’m sorry, baby.”

His eyes were blown with lust as he listened to your words. You were so fucking obedient, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t drive him wild. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours in a rough, hungry kiss before pulling back and whispering into your ear, “Only because you said it so sweetly, princess.”

In a flash, his fingers pushed past your hemline and started massaging your aching core. A loud cry of relief fell from your lips, and your nails left small crescent marks on his biceps as you clung to him. Your lips latched to his neck, leaving feverish kisses and small bites along the exposed skin of his throat. You were sure they would turn into small bruises by the morning, but you didn’t care. The feeling of his fingers working against you awoke a hunger deep inside you that hadn’t existed before or after him. “Oh, Jake,” you whined, “I missed you, baby”

A dark chuckle left his throat as he nodded. “I know, baby. I know,” you heard him coo, “Gonna make it all better, alright?” The pace of his fingers increased, curling deep inside of you.

You sobbed weakly, your head nodding along to his words, too far gone to process anything he said. Your head found its way against his shoulder and nuzzled into the crook of his neck as your body trembled under his touch. His movements were relentless, and you knew that he was doing all he could to send you over the edge, to remind you how good he can make you feel.

His effort soon paid off as the familiar, aching pressure grew deep within you, signaling your inevitable climax. Your whimpers became louder and more desperate as you gripped him tightly and rolled your hips against him. Deep groans poured from him as he could no longer contain his own arousal at your blissed-out state. His breath was hot against your ear as he mumbled to you. “You close, baby? Gonna let go all over my fingers, huh? Just like you used to?”

His words alone sent you over the edge, your body crumpling against his as your climax hit you in a strong wave. A loud, pitiful whimper ripped its way from your throat, and his name fell from your lips in a sacred mantra as the edges of your vision began to blur. You screwed your eyes shut and continued to grind your hips against his palm in desperate rhythm as you rode out your high, only coming back to your senses as the blinding pleasure subsided and finally left your body. As your eyes fluttered open, you lifted your head and saw the unmistakable look of satisfaction painted on Jake’s features. He held your gaze as he removed his fingers from you, earning a small whine in response. You watched wordlessly as he brought the digits to his lips and wrapped his tongue around them. His eyes drifted shut as he sucked on them, letting out a deep sigh as he pulled the fingers out of his mouth. “Just as sweet as I remember,” he teased.

Your hands flew to his neck, pulling him close in a deep hungry kiss. You tugged at his hair, and a grin pulled onto your lips as you heard him moan against you. His lips were soft as they worked in tandem with your own, and you could feel his hands roughly gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his arousal pressed firmly onto your thigh, a gasp falling from your lips in an uncontrollable reaction. In response, he ground his hips harder against you and moved his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you close as he growled into your ear, “You feel that, baby? You feel what you do to me?”

Before you could stop yourself, a loud, high-pitched whimper escaped your throat, and your head nodded in a silent answer to his question. A smirk appeared on his face as he looked at you, his eyes dark and full of lust. Only ten minutes earlier you would’ve wanted to wipe that look off of his face, but now you were casting all grudges aside, leaving hot kisses along his neck and down the exposed skin of his chest that peeked through his half-open shirt as you trailed lower down his body. Your hands moved to the waistband of his pants, moving to unbuckle his belt until his hand closed around your wrists, stopping your movements. “Uh-uh, princess,” he chided, “I don’t think so.”

You looked up at him, your brows knitting in confusion. “You don’t want…?”

“Oh, I do,” he answered with a dark chuckle, “but I think there’s something I want even more.” His eyes met yours, and a devilish grin played across his features as he moved his body forward, guiding you backward until you felt the back of your knees touch your bed. Your eyes flit up to his as you carefully lay against the bed. You brought your hands up to the hem of his shirt, allowing your fingertips to graze his lower stomach as he leaned over you, his hands planted on either side, caging you in. He smirked at your actions and looked down at you. “Want me to take this off?” he asked, his fingers moving to the buttons on his shirt.

You nodded shyly and gave him a quiet “please” in response as you held his gaze expectantly.

He laughed softly and smirked down at you. “All you had to do was ask, princess,” he cooed as he moved back to stand at the edge of the bed and made quick work of his shirt, allowing you to bring your hands up and push it off of his shoulders. Your eyes hungrily wandered the canvas of his bare torso, and you forgot any possible notions of being resentful towards him. With a gentle hum, you brought your hands out to touch him, his stomach twitching slightly as your fingernails grazed his tender flesh.

“Somebody’s sensitive, huh?” you teased as your eyes moved to meet his, your gaze half-lidded.

His hands quickly and firmly wrapped around your wrist, stopping your movements and removing the smug grin from your face. “Watch it, princess. Don’t wanna bite the hand that feeds you,” he warned, “Now, you wanna finish what you started?” His gaze drifted down to his belt buckle, and you wasted no time in reaching out. Your fingers fumbled with the leather strap until you finally undid it, quickly moving to the buttons of his jeans and undoing them. Soon after you had pulled down his zipper and began to shove the fabric down his legs. He quickly kicked them off, leaving him in only his underwear. Your eyes wandered to the significant tent in his boxers, and you couldn’t help the hot flush that crept upon your cheeks.

Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Jake, who let out a satisfied chuckle. His fingers moved to your shirt, toying with the hemline as he met your gaze, silently asking for permission. You nodded, and he made quick work of your top as he pulled it over your head and tossed it to the far corner of your bedroom. Impatient, you started to work on your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them. Jake laughed wickedly as he grabbed the rough denim and yanked it down your legs. “Feeling eager, baby?” he teased.

Shamelessly, you nodded in response. “I need you, Jake,” you whimpered, grabbing his hips and pulling him forward, grinding your clothed sex upon his own to further emphasize your point.

A deep, guttural moan left his lips as he pressed himself against you. “God, you’re gonna be the fucking death of me,” he murmured, letting out a shaky breath before he wrapped his arms around your back, unhooking your bra and casting it aside. His fingers came to your chest, hungrily grabbing and pawing at your tender breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers and drawing steady, high-pitched moans from you.

“Jake…” you finally whimpered out, your breath heavy and labored, “please, baby… I need you now.” Your fingertips wandered to the hem of his boxers, carefully dipping below the fabric and grazing his sensitive skin.

He let out a shaky moan before nodding his head. “Alright. I hear you, baby,” he cooed, “I ain’t gonna make you wait any longer.” He pulled his boxers down, freeing his hard length. Your mouth practically watered at the sight as he moved forward, carefully sliding your panties down your legs and throwing them to the side. He took himself in his hand, stroking his shaft as he lined himself up with your entrance. “You ready, baby?” he asked, “Gonna take all of me, just like you always did?”

Helpless and desperate beneath him, you nodded, shifting your hips forward in anticipation. As he finally pushed himself through your wet folds, your head fell back in pleasure and a loud cry of relief left your lips. You gripped his biceps tightly as you moaned out, “Oh, Jake… fuck, baby…”

He let out a mix between a chuckle and a moan as he finally bottomed out inside of you. His fingertips dug into your hips as he held you there for a second before slowly sliding out of you and pushing himself back in again, slowly working towards building a steady pace. You continued to mewl and whine below him with every movement of his hips, and he looked down at you with nothing but all-consuming lust. “You like that, baby? Is it as good as you remember?”

His mocking words only spurred on your arousal as you nodded your head and wrapped your legs around his waist. “Mhm,” you cooed between moans and whimpers, “Still the best fuck I ever had.” The sound of skin slapping on skin began to fill the room as your hips began to roll forward, meeting his own in a desperate attempt to chase your already oncoming high.

A loud moan fell from his lips as his head fell forward and his grip on you became almost unbearably tight, sure to leave bruises in the morning. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he groaned as his hips picked up their pace, “That’s what I like to hear.” His thrusts were merciless, pounding into you with an unmatched ferocity.

Your moans echoed through the room as you reached the back of his neck and pulled him down to you. You caught his lips in a searing kiss, taking all the passion and pleasure that he had and giving it right back to him. Your fingers wound tightly in the locks of hair that hung at the back of his neck as you felt the familiar knot growing in the pit of your stomach. Your hips began to buck into his wildly as your orgasm drew closer and closer. You pulled your lips away from his own for a moment to whimper softly to him.

“Jake, baby, I’m close. I’m so close,” you sobbed into the soft skin of his neck. Your words seemed to only heighten his arousal as he fucked into you even harder. He moved one of his hands to grab your own, holding it tightly.

He dipped his head down to the hollow of your ear, mumbling to you in a desperate stream of consciousness, “Fuck, I love you, baby. I never stopped. Tell me you love me, too. Tell me you love me while you come all over my cock, baby. Come on, lemme hear you say it.”

His moment of unmasked vulnerability threw you over the edge, your own hold on his hand tightening as you cried out. “Oh, Jake… Jake, I love you. Fuck, I love you… love you so much, baby,” you whined as you buried your face into him, taking on each wave of pleasure as his hips thrusted into uncontrollably until they finally stilled as he climaxed, spilling his seed deep inside of you.

Your name was the only thing on his lips as he finally pumped into you slowly a few more times, riding out what was left of his high. He fell on top of you, his body spent. You sighed softly as his lips delicately traced the skin of your neck, ghosting along the hickeys already forming there.

“Love you, baby,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You looked at his face, feeling nothing but pure adoration as you answered him quietly, “I love you, too.”

You laid that way with him until the both of you drifted off into a deep sleep. You knew that you would have a lot to discuss in the morning, but in that moment, everything felt okay, and as you looked down at Jake’s sleeping form, you knew that that was more than enough

taglist: @westernwoods @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @alwaysonthemend @andtherestishistory13 (send me an ask/dm me if you wanna be added to my taglist!!)

#mal writes #jake kiszka x you #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka #jake gvf #gvf fic #gvf smut

[anakinsthot]

Hiiii!

Can I ask for "knocking on the wrong door au" for the short fic thing??

(from this prompt list)

Thank you! This is not so much the wrong door as right address wrong person, but the idea grabbed me immediately and I had to write it.

1.3k

The cat in Anakin’s arms was surprisingly docile. It looked up at him with large green eyes, blinking slowly every so often.

“Where did you come from?” he asked quietly. The little tabby had been hiding in the shed behind his house. In between a disemboweled lawn mower and the snow blower Anakin had been about to take out, the little thing had been curled into a tight ball. When Anakin, gloves on just in case, picked it up it went limp in his arms. He’d momentarily worried that the poor thing had just died. When it started purring, a thin scratchy sound, he sighed in relief.

Anakin brought it into the house, where it could warm up and drink some water. He found an old can of tuna out of a cupboard and offered it that as well. While the cat ate, Anakin noticed it was wearing a collar with a tag. He unclipped it gently, trying not to disturb the cat while it ate, and turned it over in his hands. On one side was a name – Boga – and on the other an address. 212 Baker St. That was just a block down from Anakin’s house.

While he waited for Boga to finish eating, Anakin looked for something suitable as a cat carrier. He’d never owned a pet, having grown up in a small apartment that had a strict no pets policy, and had been tossing the idea around for a couple months now that he owned his own house. He had the vague idea that something enclosed on all sides was recommended for cats. When nothing suitable turned up Anakin sighed and grabbed one of the canvas bags his mother had given him for grocery shopping.

“Please don’t jump out,” he told the cat, before setting her into the bag. When he put picked it up she sat quietly, little head poking out of the top as she looked around. “I’m going to take you home, ok?”

Baker St was a cross street to Anakin’s, just four houses down. 212 turned out to be the second on the street. He stopped out front, frowning. There was a sold sign in the front yard and a u-haul in the driveway. Anakin crossed his fingers, hoping that it was the old family moving out and the cat had simply gotten out in the commotion.

He knocked on the door and waited. A voice called out that they’d be right there, and then he heard the sound of someone shoving things out of the way.

The man who opened the door looked flustered. Anakin sympathized – he had probably looked the same when he was packing and unpacking in his last move. Despite his red cheeks and messy hair, he looked unfairly good for someone who had presumably been moving boxes all day. His long sleeves were rolled up to show well-muscled biceps and his sweatpants were quite flattering. Anakin swallowed and tried to focus on the man’s blue eyes.

“Can I help you?” the man asked gruffly.

“I’ve got your cat,” Anakin said, holding the bag in front of him. Boga meowed plaintively. “She was in my shed, I figure she must have slipped out and gotten scared while you were moving things?”

“That’s not my cat, but good luck finding her owner,” the man said and started to close the door.

Anakin stuck his foot out. It was rude, he knew, but someone abandoning their animal like this much worse.

“This is 212 Baker St, right?”

“Yes,” the man said slowly. He’d given up on trying to close the door, but hadn’t opened it all the way either.

“Then this is your cat,” Anakin told him, showing him the tag on the collar. “Maybe you don’t want her any more but it’s pretty fucking shitty to just abandon her. At least give me whatever things you have left and I’ll make sure she gets a home where she’s actually cared for.”

“That’s not my cat,” the man repeated. “I just bought the house. I’m moving in right now.”

Anakin swallowed. “I’m… sorry,” he said slowly. “I’ll just, go I guess. Congrats on the new house.”

Something must have shown on his face, because the other man’s expression softened and he opened the door all the way and invited Anakin in.

“I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he offered, “why don’t you come in and we can decide what to do from here.”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Anakin told him. He pulled Boga out of the bag as soon as the door was closed behind him. She curled up in his arms right away, her scratchy purr starting up again. “And this is Boga.”

The living room was littered with boxes and a couch that was only half-way put together. Obi-Wan sat on one of the boxes and gestured for Anakin to do the same, cheeks pink.

“I’m sorry about the mess, but as I said. I’m just moving in today.”

Anakin lowered himself tentatively onto a box. It bent under him, just a bit, but Obi-Wan seemed unconcerned.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Anakin laughed a little. “Normally I try and greet new neighbors with baked goods or something, not a cat.”

Obi-Wan smiled at him. It was possibly the most beautiful smile Anakin had ever seen. He looked down at Boga quickly, trying to hide the flush he could feel on his cheeks.

“Unfortunately the sellers moved out a month ago, and they didn’t say anything about their cat,” Obi-Wan said. “I don’t have their contact info, but I can have my realtor reach out to them. I fear you’re right about her being abandoned, though. Surely they would have asked me to keep an eye out if she’d escaped.”

“If you could, that would be great,” Anakin tried to sound optimistic, but he thought Obi-Wan was probably right. “I can keep her until you hear back. I don’t have anything for cats but I think the local grocery store carries pet supplies and they’re still open.”

“No need for that. I was planning on adopting a cat after I got settled in and I have everything already,” Obi-Wan interrupted him. “If they don’t want her back I’ll keep her.”

He stood and walked over to Anakin, reaching out to take Boga. Reflexively, Anakin tightened his arms around her. He’d been prepared to give her back to her family, of course. But as soon as Obi-Wan had revealed he wasn’t her owner, thoughts of keeping her had started to form. In his arms, she meowed quietly and squirmed.

Anakin swallowed and stood up. “That’s great,” he said, holding her out to Obi-Wan. She was a docile as ever as they exchanged her and butted her head against Obi-Wan’s chin, rubbing a cheek against his beard, when he settled her in his arms. “Um.” Anakin hesitated at the door, reluctant to just leave like this.

“Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll keep you updated on her?” Obi-Wan offered.

Anakin smiled in relief and quickly pulled out his phone. Obi-Wan recited his number, and after Anakin had sent him a text and given Boga one final pat on the head, he left.

Back at his house, Anakin looked around. He could picture it now, how a cat would fill the space. Where the food and water bowl would go, which corner would be best for a cat tree. Sinking onto his couch, he pulled up the website for the local animal shelter and started scrolling through the available pets.

Two hours and ten open tabs about cat care later, his phone pinged with a text.

There was a photo – a selfie – of Obi-Wan laying down on the now assembled couch with Boga on his chest.

Boga Kenobi and I would like to invite you over for dinner.

Anakin bit his lip and smiled. I’d love that.

#prompt fill #obikin #they end up having each other over for dinner twice a week for two months #before they realize they're dating #anakin proposes 3 months after that #obi-wan says yes and they get married in the backyard and boga carries the ring #mal writes

[maelysgriffonne]

Phil knew something was wrong with Etoiles the second he didn't notice Phil when he walked directly to face him. Probably he was lost in thought but the French man would have still seen him, he only reacted when the little light that sometimes showed around him seemed to get agitated and Phil started to speak to him.

When they all got to the red base Phil noticed that Roier seems to stay close to Etoiles and sometimes seems to tell him what's in front of him. The crow hybrid knew Baghera and Cellbit noticed too but didn't voice their worry. After finally arriving at the base Phil managed to get Etoiles on the side to ask him if everything was okay but the others simply brushed him aside saying that everything was fine then turned around to join the others, definitely hitting stuff on his way.

It stayed like this for a day, Phil asking Etoiles if he was okay and Etoiles told him he was fine and that he should stop worrying. But Phil keep noticing things proving otherwise, Etoiles keep hitting into stuff even if it's right in front of him, keeping his hand on the walls, saying people name out loud and wait until they respond or touch him, Roier staying close to him just at reaching point as if to tell Etoiles that he is indeed her, his white milky eyes with very faint star in them. Stuff kept adding up and Phil finally added enough when Jaiden told him something Etoiles told her when she asked about his eyes.

So after everyone left the base he pulled Etoiles aside for a last time. He knew what was happening but he wanted the warrior to confirm it, "So mate when were you going to tell me" Phil ask looking directly at Etoiles eyes ignoring the littles lights spinning around "What are you talking about Phil??" Etoiles was still smiling has if nothing was fucking wrong and it was drinving Phil even more crazy then he already was because of this fucking island. "The fact that you actually lost you sight and only Roier seems to fucking know" Phil respond with a bit more anger then he should have seeing has Etoiles just froze, smile totally lost, "Oh ……" was the only thing he respond with.

"Oh, oh! Is that your only respond not, oh I'm sorry I should have told you, I shouldn't have hid it, do you wanna know how I fucking figure it out, when Jaiden come to me and told me that you told her that you couldn't see shit. For god sakes Etoiles stop hiding those type of shit!!!" Phil was screaming by the end of his little rent, he was so lost into it he didn't notice Etoiles seeming to shrink on himself, wrapping his tail around his legs to make himself smaller. "I'm sorry" his voice was so small and faint that Phil almost didn't hear it but he did and that what snapped him back, "I just didn't want to seems to be a burden, other thinking that they have to go less hard on me because of this stupid shit and my body going fucking against me, what type of leader i would have been if i let my team get hurt because they were worried about me" Etoiles explains to him while Phil took deep breath to calmed himself down.

After a minute of silence after Phil had finally calmed down he took both of Etoiles shoulders and pulled him in a hug, Etoiles tried to hide his flinch and froze up until melting into the hug. 'Starved-touched, when was the last time he received a hug' tough Phil but decided to go back to the main subject "King we will not think less of you and go easier on you nor you would be a fucking burden for something you can control but I have to ask how did it happen?", Etoiles just breath a sigh of resignation, looking ready to cry "At the end of the second day, I think it's both because of the code corruption and my diabete, I lied multiple time about taking care of my health when you ask me, i couldn't do it when i had to protect everyone, I should have see that coming I'm fucking dumb" He told with tears running down on his face, "No your not dumb Etoiles, you just have a heart of gold putting other health before you own" Phil simply hold him while the french man cried on his shoulder, bothering ending up sitting on the ground.

When Etoiles finally calmed down Phil got up helping him stand up and silently walking him to the resting place, when both were sitting on a bed Etoiles just layed down with his head on Phil's lap. Phil simply ran his hand through the wild white hair, looking as if Etoiles got more comfortable, close to falling asleep. "Sleep king, everything is going to be okay" Phil slightly smiled down before himself falling asleep.

If the team came back to see a sleeping duo with Phil having his arms tightly around Etoiles as if to protect him, nobody would say anything. If Cellbit ended up putting a cover over them then there was nothing to be said.

-------

The headcanon that Etoiles became blind in Purgatory lives in my head rent free, I had to do something about it and I was in a writing mood. My friend Botan beta-read it and even corrected some of the grammar errors so thank you again :).

@botankirishima look I post it :D, are you proud of me ,:3??

#qsmp philza #qsmp etoiles #qsmp #mal writes #iim totally fucking normal about etoiles #i swear

[maldito-arbol]

Call Me The One Chapter 9: Black Water

Summary: Anne wakes up

Guys I’m STOKED beyond STOKED for this one. It’s one of my favorites

Got a few arts n doodles for it too, including the last one which I’ve been holding onto for two years! *eye twitches* im FINE.

#anne boonchuy #marcy wu #amphibia #fanfiction #fanfic #cmto #mal arts #mal writes #CMTO 9 #WJH

[moroser]

Weeks. Not more than five, she was sure. But that’s how long she had the boy with her. It was weeks and it was not easy. Weeks that the two of them weaved their way through towns and cities through the night. Weeks that had Lilith thieving things she previously would have paid for like cars and clothing. She even took things from people's homes and straight from their pockets. Weeks that forced Lilith to change not only her life but herself for the sake of their safety. It was weeks that Lilith had to study him, to figure out how he functioned and what his needs were. He was one of Them after all. An Other. 

Lilith had her hands on the wheel of an old truck that didn’t belong to her. It was clunky and unrefined and the smell reminded her of an old garage but it was what she could could get her hands on. Next to her on the long, only seat, was the boy. Small, curled up against the door with a (stolen) blanket over him and his mouth hanging slightly open in his deep slumber. He needed more sleep than she did. When they were first settling, Lilith learned he preferred to sleep at night and it was because his kind can be in the sunlight and awake during the day. A fact she never knew and one that scared her. It forced her to rethink how they’d travel and keep from being ambushed by the Others. 

Daytime was a weakness for Lilith. The sun seared away her flesh in seconds, corroding it away and turning it to ash. Just thirty seconds in the sun would kill her and it was a fate that no vampire wanted to catch themselves in. With proper dress and care, she could manage to be out, but it was a risk among a hassle.   

The night around the truck was extra dark, the new moon fresh and barely an orange sliver above them. Even in the darkness, though, Lilith could see. In fact, she could see better in the dark than during the day when the sunlight didn't mess with her vision. Her eyes narrowed and she used her hand to shield the glare that came off a passing sign that read ‘Welcome to Pennsylvania.’  They were far from her home back in Massachusetts and she frowned while wondering if she’d ever see it again. She was taking them West after considering the distance it would put between them and his nest, which was also in the deep woods of Massachusetts. The Others. They wouldn’t travel that far to get to him, would they? The thought seemed preposterous and desperate but it was desperateness that had them in their situation to begin with. Desperateness to keep him alive. 

----

A vampire traveling with it’s own predator. The thought almost made her laugh but no sound came up her throat. It wasn’t very funny. It was unheard of. It was unprecedented and it was too late to think about it. He was with her now and she was going to keep him alive. So far she’d been successful. There was no reason for her to want to do this, to care for a child and definitely not one that could take her life. But somehow it had been weeks.

When she'd first found him, they holed up in her own house. It made her chest ache to maim her house in any fashion but she outfitted it to be as secure as she could. It was an old Victorian tucked away on several acres of land with a long driveway and no neighbors. There was privacy and there was security. She owned the woods that encased it and she set traps herself, even before the boy. Lilith was there for fifty years before they left and the entire time had never crossed an Other. Word of the Others was rarely talked about among vampires. Their history was long and tracked right along side their own history, but somewhere through time, any traces of them started to vanish. Barely any victims of sightings were reported to vampire communities and when there was, word spread quickly and over great distances. Vampires did not have a strong sense of camaraderie, not naturally. Most of them were loners who lead solitary, nightly lives. But they did all want to live and they all were frightened of the Others, even if some didn't even believe in them. In recent years, even the rare cases started to dwindle and most vampires would call you crazy if you suggested they were around. They became like myths, just like vampires were to humans. Lilith knew that trusting everything she heard from her own community could lead to trouble, anyway. The community was full of deceivers and liars. Some lied for the fun of it, others were out for personal gain. They were creatures with everything and nothing to lose and all the time, ever, to lose it. But it wasn’t so different than humans, and if Lilith had to guess, she’d say you were more likely to run into a vampire you couldn’t trust than a human you couldn’t trust. 

Over the long stretch of road, Lilith’s eyes flickered between both sides of it to check the trees. Any movement and she would see it. The pines and woods were thick and within them shadows darker than black stamped what little light the moon could muster to get through. She wondered if They could be in there, right now. She wondered that a lot. Even in a truck and traveling on a highway she knew it wasn’t safe to let her guard down. Some vampires and Others alike could run just as fast as they traveled in the vehicle and it was at night they were more likely to take on attackers. While most humans slept. 

Her focus is broken when a small, wet cough broke the silence in the truck. She didn't want to look from the road, but she did and was met with a pair of bright eyes looking back at her. “You’re awake,” she stated, but gently, “that wasn’t very long and you need the rest.” 

The boy pushed himself up and nodded while he tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes. “I can’t sleep anymore,” he replied with a wobbly certainty. Lilith looked back to the road and twisted her mouth. She suspected that was only a partial truth. He wanted to stay up with her now, as it was his wish before his little body crashed and forced the sleep on him. “Did we get to a new state?” 

“Mm,” she nodded. Her eyes stayed on the road but she decided to humor him. It was barely a week ago she taught him about the states. She told him what they were and some of their names. His nest, purposefully isolated from any outsiders, gave him a false sense of the world. He had no idea there was more than the woods he came from. “We are in a state called Pennsylvania,” she told him, “the sun comes up again in a couple hours. We’ll get a motel room.” One in the city. One around a lot of humans.  

The boy repeated the name of the state. Lilith was sure she heard letters that weren’t supposed to be there and it made her bristle, but she didn’t correct him. She stole a glance to him, and caught him still trying to fight against the sleep that pulled at him. She also noticed the bags under his eyes. They were always there, but like her, he looked sicker when he hadn’t eaten enough. Her eyes were hard on the twin yellow lines that cut down the center of the road. It has been three days since he last ate. Lilith noticed he started to act differently after four and she didn't want him in that state of mind again.  

Again her mouth twisted as if aggrieved, “are you hungry?” 

He shook his head, “no.” She could feel his eyes on her and it sent a shiver through her. Like she was dipped in cold water. He was small and young and he had barely been taught anything by his nest because of it. But he was her predator and natural instinct was strong. 

“I don’t believe you,” her tone was hard and accusatory. “You need to be honest with me. You cannot wait to feed. It’s too dangerous,” she found herself fumbling over her words and her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard, “...f-for your own good! You will get weak and that cannot happen. I already have to fight any enemy that comes our way, I can’t be expected to carry you and pick up your slack too. Your efforts are needed.” Her face felt warm and she was embarrassed for being so mean but she did not apologize. 

She could still feel his eyes on her and she still did not look at him. His voice was small and carried a whine, “I said I’m not hungry.”  

Lilith took a deep breath and eyed a green sign that gave a list of the upcoming exits and their cities. The closest was a half hour away. They’d stop there. 

The two rode in silence for half the time. “Then you will eat when the sun sets tomorrow. After I eat and before we go back on the road,” she said, finally. She said nothing when he begrudgingly accepted the compromise.   

For the rest of the drive, Lilith turned on the radio and let it fill the silence. She didn’t know the song and wasn’t paying attention to it anyway. She found the shifting music of the decade was not much to her liking, but the boy liked any of it. The world around them took on the early morning hues of the low rising sun and Lilith knew she didn’t have much time to get them in a room. There were enough motels in the town, but she chose the one with the most open courtyard and with the most cars parked in front of it. A group of bikers was smoking and drinking and no doubt had been awake the entire night. Lilith was glad to see them.

The truck’s too-loud engine came to a long anticipated silence and Lilith finally faced the boy and could take her eyes away from their surroundings. After fishing up a dark green duffle bag from the floor by his feet, the sound of Lilith unzipping it split the quietness in the cab of the truck. She pulled out a wad of cash that was held together with an old rubberband and gestured for the boy to hold his hand out and he did. Lilith began to count money into it before wadding it back together and shoving it deep to the bottom of the bag. “Can I learn to count the money too?” he asked suddenly and was met only with a harsh, whispered ‘quiet!’ from Lilith while she continued what she was doing. This time, she pulled out a stack of cards, also held together by a rubberband. Quickly she filed through them until she found her driver’s license, setting it in his hand too. 

After replacing the bag to the floor of the car and pocketing the items she took out, she opened her side of the truck and slid herself out to her feet. The boy sat on his side and waited for her to turn to him and gesture for him to come to her. He climbed over their things and along the long seat so he could get out on her side, too. It was one of the first things she taught him while they were on the road. He wasn’t allowed to get out on his side alone. 

She helped him out of the truck and tightly took his hand into hers. The slam of the truck door was muted by the surrounding cars in the lot and so was the sound of their feet on the wet ground. An earlier rain left the smell of wet pine and wood that filled Lilith’s senses. It was replaced by an old musty smell when she pulled the boy into the small room with the front desk. 

The boy pulled at her arm when he saw a stack of books on a small waiting table and she yanked him back to her. She pulled him to the front desk, moving him in front of her to put her hands on his shoulders as if to push him into the ground so he wouldn’t move. “We need one room, please,” Lilith asks, more rudely than she intended. Despite her grip on him, she could feel the boy trying to look at the books. He wanted to read everything ever since they started to fill their down time with learning letters and numbers. She tried to tell him he couldn’t read yet, but he did not listen and would pretend he could anyway.

Lilith ignored the looks and curious energy coming from the older woman behind the counter and paid their due amount. She thanked her and took the boy’s hand again to pull him back to the truck where she instructed him what to grab and filled her own arms. But she left her hand free to hold him by the back of the shirt while she lead him to their room. 

The key gave her trouble but finally the door opened and she hurried them in. After locking the door, both the handle and the latch, she dumped what she was holding on the bed to go to the window and pull the drapes shut. She turned to another of their bags and worked a blanket out. Her attention was drawn away when she noticed the boy just standing there and her eyebrows knitted together. “What is it?” 

The boy looked away and then to the floor. Short fused, Lilith audibly sighed out her annoyance, “tell me what you are thinking!” Her energy was tight and wound up. It was hard to come down from being on alert as long as she is while they travel. But they were safe there in that room and she told herself that. 

“I’m hungry!” he confessed loudly, breaking her thoughts. 

Lilith pressed her lips together and let the frustration she felt boil in her chest. Of course he was. She’d never sleep knowing he was hungry and it’d been many days since she had. With a deep breath she exhaled through her nose as if to expel her irritation out with it. 

“Are you mad?” he asked, smally.

“No. I’m tired,” she retorted. 

He did not move from where he stood. Lilith didn’t look at him any longer and continued to set up their room, making sure it was a place that they were both safe in during the day and night. A blanket over the window, tucking a towel under the door frame to hide their smell from the outside. Lilith slid open the closet and started to put blankets and pillows in it.

She noticed she was moving quicker than before and the tension she’d wanted to wash away for the morning was stronger than before. Feeding the boy was the most difficult task of their journey together and something they were still perfecting. 

Feeding the boy was something that scared her. Even though it’s been weeks.

#vampire au #mal writes #im so sorry if its boring but its all I HAVE #i love boring

[td-mal]

sometimes i can’t believe it’s real

#mal writes #i spent SO FUCKING LONG #looking for him #DESPERATELY #and now he’s here #<3

[tracingpatternswrites]

I’m plotting a new fic and the background/outline is now four pages long so this looks like it’ll be a short thing 🙃

#mal writes

[themalacoda]

how have i never heard of this?

(besides the obvious fact that i didn't do creative writing in college or grad school)

normally the idea of people discussing anything about me sends me into paroxysms of colon liquifying fear

BUT

BUT

but but but butbutturehtrbturhtutttt????

if they're discussing my work?

gods i want it. I WANT IT SO BAD. i never feel like i receive genuine feedback because let's be real--most people are lovely and don't want to hurt your feelings

unfortunately this also means i may not be getting feedback i need to improve? maybe it's masochism but FUCK i really want this i really wish this was a thing i could do. ACT LIKE I'M NOT HERE AND RIP MY SHIT TO SHREDS PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY I WANT TO IMPROVE PLEASE

from: bettsfic's fan author workshop page

#on writing #my writing #constructive critism welcome #concrit welcome #mal writes

[from-knight-to-lover]

Oh hey look who posted HIVE angst

#mal writes #h.i.v.e #h.i.v.e. #higher institute of villainous education #hive #wing fanchu #cypher #wu zhang

[mymaleficaria]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Death Parade (Anime) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Arita Mayu/Ginti, Arita Mayu & Ginti, Ginti & Memine (Death Parade) Characters: Ginti (Death Parade), Arita Mayu, Memine (Death Parade), Oculus (Death Parade) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Unrequited Love, Pining, Ginti doesn't get feelings, Romance Summary:

Ginti thought he’d seen Mayu for the last time when he’d sent her to the void with her one true love. But if that was true, then why was she in his bar?

---

Have been polishing up some old (like 2-3 months ago fics) and posting them!  I assume this fandom is big dead, but please correct me if I’m wrong

#anime #death parade #fanfiction #mal speaks #mal writes #ginti #death parade ginti #arita mayu #death parade mayu

[mountain-in-springtime]

tomorrow

pairing: josh x reader | word count: 1.9k | warnings: mentions of nsfw, kissing (?) | my masterlist

summary: after an unforgettable night with the man you love, you find yourself overcome with doubts about what it all meant for the two of you.

author's note: hiiii everybody! his is sort of a short and sweet one, but i really just wanted to get something out there!! this fic is dedicated to grace (@runwayblues) bc when i asked for fic inspo she said "joshie" and honestly??? that helped. also, this fic is based off of will you love me by carole king bc that song is so beautiful and heartbreaking. also a lot of this fic is me projecting but we're not gonna talk about that!!! (also this fic isn't proofread but what's new tbh)

*******************************************************

You stirred softly in your sleep, opening and closing your eyes slowly as you became accustomed to the sunlight that poured into the room and filled your line of sight. The sheets that rested against your body were soft against your flesh as they cradled you. Feeling the mattress give way to your movements, you slowly turned over. As you did so,  strong arms tightened around your waist and pulled you closer until hot, bare skin rested firmly against your back. The man they belonged to hummed softly and nestled his face into the crook of your neck. You smiled faintly as his lips left sweet, lazy kisses on your throat and his wild, messy curls tickled along your jawline. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he mumbled in a deep, sleepy whisper. His breath was warm against you, and you felt his legs tangle with your own, keeping you as close to him as possible. You placed your hand over his own and laced your fingers with his. His palms were warm against your skin, and his grip was firm and comforting. It grounded you, keeping you anchored to the moment. 

You sighed softly as you leaned farther into his touch. “Morning, Josh,” you hummed, as you turned to face him. His arms loosened their grip around you as you moved but not enough for you to slip out of his grasp. You brought one of your hands up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart underneath your touch. He was so beautiful like this, a lazy smile painted across his face and half-lidded eyes gazing down at you. It was almost too much to bear. You wanted to tell him how you thought of him. You wanted to use every single last breath in your lungs to sing sweet praises of his beauty, but instead, you stayed silent, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to his shoulder. 

He let out a soft sigh before tilting his head down to look at you. “You sleep okay?” he murmured, as if speaking any louder would shatter the two of you into a million little pieces. Your only response was a nod and a quiet yawn, which prompted a small bubble of laughter to rise from him. “Good,” he cooed, punctuating his statement with a sweet kiss to your forehead, “I slept great. Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.” 

“I’m glad,” you whispered as you laid your head against the soft skin of his chest. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you held yourself close to him, not ready to leave the space you had created with him, afraid of what would lie beyond it. His arms wrapped around you, one of his hands combing through your hair and embracing you tightly before pulling back as he began to shift his weight.

“Alright, honey, I’m gonna get up,” he said with a groan as he sat up. The movement caused the sheets to fall from his torso and gather around his waist, exposing his toned abdomen. You blushed softly at the sight, but your gaze lingered momentarily on his form. He noticed your wandering eyes and cast a playful smirk in your direction.

“See something you like?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows and giving a small chuckle as your cheeks became flushed with a deep red hue. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled shyly. You looked up at him with timid eyes while he stood. He raised his arms in a long, drawn-out stretch that made his back arch and pulled a soft groan from his lips. Watching him move so freely about the room, naked and possessed with unashamed openness, filled you with an awareness of the sudden, crushing reality of what had transpired between the two of you. You felt yourself become incredibly conscious of the fact that you were naked, your palms pressing the sheets to your body, hoping to cling to the lingering memories they held. A million thoughts and questions began to race through your mind, drowning you in a sea of vulnerable uncertainty until Josh’s voice pulled you from your spiral.

“You okay?” he asked, his body still and facing you while his face bore a look of genuine concern. 

You nodded quickly in response, replying with an unconvincing, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.” You paired your reply with a soft smile in hopes that he would believe you. 

He looked at you for a long moment before sighing softly and nodding. “Alright. But promise to tell me if something’s wrong, okay?” he cooed as he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, “I don’t want you to regret anything.” The look on his face as he said that last sentence and the mere idea of it was enough to make your heart break. 

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly. “I could never regret you, Josh,” you murmured, giving him a look that you hoped conveyed the truth behind your words. 

He smiled in response and moved his hand from your grip as he began to walk towards his dresser. He pulled clothes out of the drawers and collected them into a neat pile before turning back to you. “I’m gonna go take a shower and get dressed. You wanna come with me?” he asked, his voice attempting an air of playfulness. 

“You go ahead,” you replied with a shake of your head, “I’m gonna stay in bed for a bit longer.” 

He nodded. “Okay, honey. You rest as long as you need. I’ll be right back,” he reassured as he walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

In his absence, you felt the return of that creeping insecurity, slowly but surely filling you to the brim. You felt bare and naked and silly, and you desperately needed to escape to somewhere where you could hide until you felt safe. You climbed out of the bed and threw on your clothes as quickly as possible, fighting against the lingering soreness that only made the hurt more tangible. You felt like a million eyes were on you in the empty room. You pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands like it was a shield protecting you from the pervasive shame that was running through your body. You grabbed your purse and keys from the shelf you had left them on last night and sat back on the bed, holding them in your lap as you waited for Josh to reenter the bedroom. You busied yourself by fidgeting with an old, frayed, woven keychain that hung from your keyring. You turned the unraveling threads between your fingers, your mind fading far away.

“Leaving already?” Josh’s voice rang through the room and pulled you from your daze. His voice held a tinge of disappointment that he tried to mask with a joking lilt. It made you feel terrible. 

You nodded and looked down, mumbling out a clumsy excuse, “Uh, yeah, I gotta… I gotta go, um….” But before you could even finish, you felt hot tears roll down your cheeks, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. You buried your face in your hands as sobs rolled through your body.

Josh came to sit beside you, his weight making the mattress give way beneath him. You felt his arms wrap around you softly. “Hey,” he whispered, “Hey, it’s alright. You wanna tell me what’s bothering you, honey?” He ran his hands through your hair as he asked the question, grounding you in a way that made you love him and hate yourself for loving him all at the same time. You shook your head in response to him, unable to form anything that even resembled a sentence. “That’s okay,” he cooed, “Can you just tell me if it’s something I did?”

The question only made you cry harder, feeling like some kind of monster for making him even think that he could do anything to hurt you. A teary “no” poured out of you as you gripped his shirt, crumpling the fabric in your hands as you wept into his chest. Finally, as the tears slowly subsided, you let out a loud, wobbly sigh and spoke. “I’m so scared, Josh,” you whimpered as you tilted your head up, meeting his soft gaze. 

His brow furrowed at your statement. “Scared of what?” He ran a hand across your forehead and over your hair, gently smoothing it down. 

“I’m scared about what we did,” you sighed. He gave you no response, his silence prompting you to elaborate. “I… I’m scared that it doesn’t mean to you what it means to me.” You confessed it with a convinced finality like you knew that your fear and your reality were one and the same. 

Josh’s grip on you tightened, and he fixed you with an unreadably even expression. “What does it mean to you?” he asked quietly. 

Your answer was immediate. “Everything.” 

A small hum of acknowledgment left Josh’s lips. “And what makes you think that it doesn’t mean everything to me?” His question wasn’t accusatory or loaded with any kind of animosity. He just wanted to understand. 

“I don’t know,” you said after a long moment of silence, “I just… I’ve loved you for so long, Josh. You know I have. I always felt like the idea of having you was too good to be true. So, I guess I thought that after we… after what happened, you’d wake up and just realize that it was some big mistake. That you didn’t want me anymore.” You looked up at him with a blank, pained expression, hoping that he would say something, anything to prove you wrong. 

He stayed silent but leaned forward, capturing your lips in a hot, all-consuming kiss. His fingers cupped your jaw, keeping you in place as he molded his lips against your own, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His affection left you just as breathless as it did the night before, and when he pulled back, your cheeks were flushed a bright pink. 

“I love you,” he stated, his voice soberingly serious, “You hear me? I’m in love with you. Always have been. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever change that. I don’t care what we’ve done. You’re not just some cheap thrill to me. What we did… the way we made love… I did that because I love you. There’s no doubt in my mind on that front, alright?” 

You nodded enthusiastically at his words, leaning forward and capturing his lips in a searing, desperate kiss. Your fingers carded through his curls, and a soft moan slipped from you. His hands rested on your waist, pulling you flush to him. You allowed each other's hands to travel, leaving sweet, sacred touches along your bodies, finding splendor in the removal of the final barrier between you. You mumble soft “I love you”s between heavy breaths, only stopping when you were both out of air. 

His forehead rested against your own as his chest rose and fell. “You ready for round two?” he asked, his lips spreading into his characteristic grin and a soft, silly laugh tumbling from him. You joined him in his laughter and nodded your head. He gave a chaste kiss to your lips. “Good,” he breathed out, pulling you down with him onto the bed where the two of you spent the rest of the day expressing your love both in words spoken and unspoken.

taglist: @westernwoods @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @alwaysonthemend @andtherestishistory13 @writingcold @sunandthemoontwinflames (message me or send me an ask if you wanna be added to my taglist!!!)

#mal writes #josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka gvf #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x y/n #josh gvf #gvf fic #greta van fleet

[anakinsthot]

Anakin Skywalker, Witch is COMPLETE!

#obikin #mal writes #witch fic #first completed multi-chapter fic omg #just in time for halloween/samhain (choose your holiday)!

[glowingcowboy]

i’m gonna migrate some of my private writings from my twitter. I think i’ll just start posting my writing here from now on.

#prose #writing #mal writes

[maldito-arbol]

Call Me The One Chapter 8: The Bugboy, The Blind Man, and the Ballistic Sister

Summary: Dear friends who were once close are forced to reckon with each other’s mistakes.

Hey friends! The art for this chapter contains SPOILERS! So if you wanna hop right in blind, click the link and read first, come back and see the art after. If not, you can continue on to view the art! I’m actually super proud of this piece :^)

#amphibia #fanfic #fanfiction #captain beatrix #captain bufo #captain aldo #mal writes #mal arts #CMTO #CMTO 8 #WJH #it’s finally here!!! what has it been? a year?? im going to pass tf out

[moroser]

i posted the first part of the vampire au story on my fancy new AO3!! that i am calling Dead Ends!! i am very excited!! 

if you read the first part i put on tumblr a couple days ago already i recommend you read it again because i added more and polished it up! just if you’re interested in the details and such. 

thank you to everyone who’s been reading and telling me feedback and stuff! i appreciate it so much and it’s so fun to hear. thank you!! 

#vampire au #mal writes #dead ends

[bruisedboys]

love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader

summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here

grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff

nav

implied fem!reader 1.3k words

Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.

“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”

You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.

“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”

Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.

“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.

To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.

“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”

Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”

Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”

Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.

“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”

Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”

Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.

He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.

“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”

It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”

“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.

Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”

She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.

“What is it, cariño?” He hums.

“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”

Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.

By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.

“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.

Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”

You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.

He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.

“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.

“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.

“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”

Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.

He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.

Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”

#★ mal writes! #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel x reader #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n