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amoristt · 2 hours ago

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「 ✦daryl dixon/reader ✦ 」 tags: smut //

a/n: this is definitely based on this ask LOL word count: 2,300

Alexandria, for all it was and for all it stood for, was nothing if not a giant oven in the summer. Large metallic walls shimmered like mirages through the heat, the sun only just now growing too tired to scorch the earth below and receding below the tree lines. Between cultivating what little garden you’d scrounged up and patrolling the walls for any cracks, you were certainly ready to call in a day.

Wood creaked underneath your boots as you stepped up your porch, waving to Rick as he passed by across the street before you disappeared inside. Like every summer before this one, you wished air conditioning hadn’t died with the fall of civilization. Moist warmth clung to every surface, to every molecule. Walking into the bedroom, ready to strip down to your bare nothings, you didn’t even need to check the bed to know Daryl was there. You could feel his eyes on you before you even bothered to make contact.

“This heat is killin’ me.” You start, letting your shoulders fall, plopping down at the edge of the mattress. Already you tug at the hem of your shirt, ready to feel the air on your skin.

“S’ not so bad.”

You glare at him from over your shoulder, unamused. He’d already shucked his shirt long before you’d arrived, stretched out on the mattress with the blankets bunched up at the corners, abandoned with the onslaught of summer. Boots lay topped over, his crossbow resting on the floor propped against the nightstand.

Back facing him, you peel your shirt off and toss it on the dresser across from you. Just like before, you don’t even need to look to see him staring. It’s incessant- waiting. A focused drive of sight when you drag your undershirt off next. You let your fingers dance over the clasp of your bra long enough to hear the hitch of his breath, a devilish smirk striking across your face. On the dresser, you notice his reflection in the vase. You unclip the clasp and he tilts his head, tongue darting across his lower lip.

You almost laugh. He makes it so easy. As if the simple act of getting undressed was something so monumental.

“You starin’ at me, Dixon?”

He blinks once, twice. Trails his line of sight to the back of your head. “Ain’t starin.”

“Liar.” You can’t help but giggle, and he shifts his weight as he looks elsewhere in the room, caught. You glance at him over your shoulder again, letting your bra dangle loosely over your chest, undone in the back. “Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Daryl, in all his gruffness, is the most bashful creature to ever grace God’s green earth. He flusters easier than he’d like to admit, admires you more than he thinks you catch on. It’s sweet- it’s endearing. Makes you all sorts of hot and bothered, too, to see all that roughness ebb away into putty in your hands.

You let the straps fall with almost tantalizing effort. He knows it too- you can see the way his gaze snaps right back to where it belongs, covering every inch of your skin between your naked shoulders and jeans. Silent invitations were your speciality, one that he once struggled to truly grasp. The cues always went right over his head until you were practically forced to drag the mound of his hand to your chest and demand him to feel you up. Now he hones in on the subtleties, refuses to miss a chance to have you squirming under him.

So when the cups fall from your breast and lay abandoned on the floor, you peek over your bare shoulders. That’s all it takes.

Daryl props himself up on his elbows and reaches out, tugs on your arm and beckons you over to him. You do, crawling over the soft sheets until you’re straddling the width of his hips. It’s heaven for him, you think, hoisted nice and firm in his lap with your tits catching rays of light through the curtains. He doesn’t waste a moment, already reaching up and filling a calloused paw with a handful of you.

The shift in him is instantaneous, both soothed and lit aflame.

His other hand finds the softness of your waist, dips below your jeans just enough to make you wish you’d already stripped the damned things off. Pulses of need rivet down your spine in mellow, method waves that make you shiver under his touch. A thumb flicks over your nipple and you catch your lip between your teeth.

For every sound you make, he responds. A low groan, a slow huff disguised as a deepened breath. He’s rock solid underneath you in his jeans, and you roll your hips to grind down on the thickness of his shaft. His breath catches, his grip on your side tightens.

“So easy to get you going,” You pant, grinning. His cock twitches in tandem with his strained grunts. You put your hand over his own, urging him to grip your breast tighter. “All I gotta’ do is show you these, huh?”

“Not fair.” Daryl’s hair sprawls over a pillow, a knit in his brow. He’s so hard now it must hurt. You make it worse, rolling your hips against his again just to see the way he sucks in sharp breaths.

“Not fair,” A mockery of his straining, a coy grin on your lips. “Don’t be embarrassed. I like it.”

There’s an ache deep in your core, a cry that you can’t stand to feel ignored any longer.

And though to tease him, you’re just as eager as he is, perhaps even more now, already deftly unbuttoning your jeans. It’s a pain to shimmy them down like this, a thigh on either side of his own, so Daryl takes the initiative to flip you onto your back. You’re covered in him in a matter of mere seconds, the room disappearing. Before he catches your jeans belt loops with the hooks of his fingers, he first can’t help himself but to grip palmfulls of your breasts in his large hands. A shudder rolls through you, a shock of electricity when he pinches your hardening nipples between his thumb and index.

Amongst the redness of his face, the clear mist of lust hazing his expression, you can see it- satisfied amusement. You can almost hear his voice in your head: you’re just as easy. But he doesn't say it- let’s you squirm and catch your lip between your teeth in his silence.

Nothing but low rumbles deep in his chest escape him when you twitch under his touch, pools of darkness clouding over those soulful eyes of his.

You can’t help but whine and lift your hips an inch or so higher. “Daryl, come on.”

And then finally your jeans come down. Pulled all the way to your feet and then tossed haphazardly off the edge of the bed.

Panties then gone and forgotten, his own belt jingling as it comes undone so he could free his cock from its confines. He looks just as hard as he felt, ramrod straight and almost agonizingly needy. As always, Daryl’s self control with you is immeasurable. If that were you, there wasn’t a single way in hell you’d have been so patient. So you reward him for his good behaviour, reaching out and dragging your fingers along the underside of his shaft. You even hold back a taunt when he shudders, starved and desperate for you.

Daryl watches you beneath him, leaning back, taking all of you in. Swallows hard when you swipe your thumb over his aching tip.

“Shit-... I ever tell ya’ how gorgeous ya’ are?”

It catches you off guard every single time. You aren’t even sure why it does- compliments grew more and more frequent as the months went by, and yet even now you’re flushing something awfully hot.

Worsened when he spreads you nice and wide for him, gathering your legs on either side of his hips and lining himself up with your slick. His lips twitch up a tinge or two, a low breath in his tone.

“Love when you look a’ me like that.”

You light to life, a heat so hot it burns your cheeks.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Mean it.” You feel the weight of him settle against your slick folds, already an intrusion at the very first inch.

Daryl eases inside of you easy, slow, like you’re a virgin every time. While you want nothing more than for him to rail you into the mattress, he takes the more gentlemanly approach. His hands sooth through your hair, his voice a quiet whisper against your clavicle. His hair tickles and adds to the stimulation at all angles. When he finally bottoms out, and you can feel every thick inch of his cock, he groans something low and sultry into your ear.

Your legs wrap around his waist, heels pushing just enough into his lower back for him to take the hint. When he does, and drags himself out just halfway before he pushes back in, it’s bliss. There’s few things in life that compare to this, the feel of him stretching you in all the right ways. The heat of his skin against yours, the late afternoon light painting the outline of him gold, catching the shimmer of sweat on his shoulders.

Admiring him would be an understatement. You could die like this, you think, and die happy.

One hand finds your breast again, sits right over the mound of flesh like it belongs there. The other plants on the side of your head to prop himself up over you. It’s like a cage, almost, covered from all aspects in his shape. You wouldn’t dream of ever trying to escape it.

Especially not when he draws back again, cants forward and fills you to the very brim, before he can finally set a rhythm. It rocks you to your core, even slow like this. Every thrust you can’t help but tighten like a vice around his cock. Every sound, every touch, like fuel adding to the inferno building in your gut. Even when you urge him by digging your heels into his lower back once again he makes sure to be steady, thorough. Slow, full thrusts that make you wild.

“Please,” You whine, and you rock your hips up to try and find something more. “Baby, come on. Need it.”

Daryl doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand leaves your breast just to grip marks into your hips, hiking you up higher. A new angle, new speed. Finally you get exactly what you need from him- the hard buck of his hips and moans tumbling from between his lips. Your eyes flutter shut, head tipped back against the pillow, your hair a fan over the soft case.

He leans down, long dark hair tickling over your shoulders. His lips crash against yours and swallow up all those sounds you can’t hold back. Immediately you wrap your arms around him, clutching onto anything you could get, desperate for purchase as your release drew closer by the second.

Nails digging into his shoulders, finding all the familiar rises and dips of his muscles, his body welcoming the drag of your nails. Each roll of his hips seemed harder than the last, claiming every bit you from the inside out. Your vision blurs, a knot tightens in your gut that you chase and chase and chase.

“Fuck- Daryl-”

When you cum, it’s a lance of pleasure that blossoms from the inside out. You can’t help but cry his name, breaking his kiss, tossing your head back and keening out incoherent babbles. Your walls vice on him, constricting around his cock, feeling the full weight of him inside you. He curses something quiet, entirely lost on your swimming ears when he meets his own end.

Daryl tries to make it last. Locks up and lets you squeeze slick heat around his length until he can’t take it any longer. He’s beautiful when he cums- and even when you’re barely able to focus, you make sure you catch the way his expression grows pensive and far away. All that tension rocks loose at once, gone as you’re filled with his slurry. Time pauses for a moment. the world grows still.

And then he falls onto the bed beside you a panting mess. You’re no better, with a heaving chest and legs that still shake with the intensity of it all. A large arm slings over your waist, drags you to his chest and ignores the way heat is settling over your spent bodies. If it weren’t for the wonderful afterglow of sex, you’d surely be itching to cool down, but instead you settle even further against him.

Your heart thrashes in your chest, only eases when your pants die down into soft breaths.

“Thank you, needed that.” A yawn rolls through you mid sentence, feeling the weight of the world settle over your eyelids. Orange paints the curtains, growing ember red as the day grew to a close.

Daryl sighs, content and sweet.

You trace lines into his bicep. “Hope you didn’t have any more plans today.”

“Jus’ this.”

A dopey smile works its way over your features. From the very moment you’d walked into the room you knew this would be your fate, but even so, the buzz of sex and love vibrates under your skin.

“I guess the heat isn’t so bad,” You admit.

“Told ya’.” A flicker of something less than angelic ticks his smile up. He kisses your shoulder, clutches your naked form against him just a bit tighter. “Hasn’t done me wrong, yet.”

#twd #the walking dead #x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl dixon

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falseroar · 1 year ago

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Murder on the Warfstache Express

Part 8: What the Engineer Didn't Hear

((Abe's investigation hits a new hitch when it turns out there's been a theft on the train.

Link to the previous chapter, Part 7: Incriminating Investigating here if you need it, plus one for the whole series.))

Abe led the way into the luggage car, briefly pausing in the space between the two train cars to cast a look out the locked doors to either side. The sight of the billowing snow confirming the blizzard was still going strong out there, and the chill in the air encouraged him to get a move on already (or maybe that was one of the others behind him).

Inside the luggage car he held his lantern high so that it would cast its light as far as possible—which wasn’t very far at all, not when it caught on the narrow racks of metal shelves to either side of the walkway and left deep shadows between them that only disappeared as he passed by just to take their place again soon after.

Without the noise of the engine or the rumble and rattle of the wheels below, it was quiet enough to hear the creak of their footsteps, the groan of metal cooling beneath the onslaught of snow, and a dozen other small, insignificant sounds suddenly magnified in the stillness.

And yet Abe didn’t feel the same creeping sense of being watched as he had the first time he walked through here in the darkness with Benjamin. Maybe it was the difference of having his lantern and Illinois’s behind him, bringing up the rear of the group, instead of just a small lighter. Maybe it was having been here before, or knowing what he was dealing with this time around, although it seemed like knowing a murderer was on the train should have been worse than trying to work out why the train had suddenly stopped without warning.

Or maybe, that small voice in the back of Abe’s mind that always waited until moments like this to speak up, there was something there then that isn’t here now.

Abe slowed, taking more time to scan each row of shelves as he passed, like he could somehow spot a difference among the luggage and packages stowed here and there, and asked over his shoulder, “Where’s this thing you wanted to check, Professor?”

“Up near the front of the car,” she said. “I didn’t really want it stored that close to the engine, but it wouldn’t exactly fit on the shelves.”

Oh, right, now that Abe thought about it he did vaguely remember the conductor/engineer Peter pointing out the huge crate to him earlier, the one covered in chains and locks. As much as Abe wanted to take a peek at what she had stashed in there, he figured it would take her some time to get it open, time he could make use of while he was here.

“You two mind going ahead?” Abe asked, stepping aside in the narrow space between two racks of metal shelving. “I’ll be right there, I just need to check something real quick.”

“Looking for that weapons safe, huh?” Illinois asked.

The detective shrugged without a word, but they both gave him a knowing look before continuing on toward the front of the car, the professor wondering aloud where she put her keys.

It wasn’t a bad guess, and if Abe thought he could get the thing open and finally get his gun back without the conductor’s help he probably would have been at it already. Instead, he quickly doubled back to the first occupied shelf and checked the name tag on the suitcase there before moving on to the next.

“Haven’t had your fill of going through folks’ underwear yet?” Wilford asked, Abe hating himself for how much the man’s voice made him jump. Somehow, impossibly, Abe had almost forgotten he was there, which seemed to be Wilford’s cue to try and give him a heart attack. “I don’t know, it gets kind of old after a while, doesn’t it, when everyone packs the same kind of stuff?”

“Not everyone,” Abe said. “All those rooms we checked, and there was one without any luggage at all. Well, two—why didn’t you bring anything on this trip?”

“I brought myself, that seems like enough to me,” Wilford said with a shrug. “Everything else will sort itself out when it needs to, I’m sure.”

“…Sure. But why would a normal person not bring at least a change of clothes or something on an overnight trip?” Abe asked, before realizing he was asking the wrong person that kind of question. “Even if you’re not planning on staying at your destination long, you’d bring a toothbrush or hairbrush or change of underwear or something, right? More than just an ID, a letter, and a gun is what I’m saying.”

“Unless you left in a hurry and didn’t have time to pack,” Wilford said.

“Okay, maybe—”

“Or you go back and forth between two places so much you have what you need at both.”

“Okay, sure, that might be possible, but—”

“Or you’re a spy, and everything you bring with you is an extra risk of blowing your cover!”

Abe opened his mouth to shoot down that idea and then paused, realizing that with as little as he knew about Agent Harold Apless, that one might actually be true. Actually, all of Wilford’s suggestions were plausible enough, which both annoyed and disturbed Abe equally.

Since when did Wilford make sense?

“All the time!” Wilford protested. “I don’t know where people get the idea that I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Stop doing that,” Abe hissed through gritted teeth, and Wilford shrugged and turned away, the detective’s flask going to his mouth again. “And stop stealing my stuff!”

Abe tried to snatch his flask back, but Wilford evaded him and moved further down the car. The detective almost followed him when he heard the professor’s voice from the front of the car, a cry of dismay and horror.

“Everything okay up there?” he called, like he didn’t already know the answer.

“No, it is not okay!” the professor shouted, and he swore he heard her stamp her foot before starting a rant of some kind whose words he couldn’t quite hear.

Abe hesitated, and against his better judgement decided to delegate.

“You,” he said, pointing at Wilford. “Check the tags for everything here while I see what’s going on up there. Look for a Harold Apless—actually, look for any names that don’t match anyone we’ve seen on board this train. Could be he used an alias. Think you can handle that?”

“I don’t see why not,” Wilford drawled, raising his stolen flask as he did so.

Abe sighed, but he needed to go and see what had riled up the professor in case it turned out to be important.

Or in case it turned out to be another dead body.

The thought made Abe pick up the pace, and so he was just in time to see the door at the front of the car open and engineer/conductor Peter poke his head in, oversized wrench at the ready as he asked, “What’s going on in here?”

“What’s going on is someone’s been tampering with this crate!” Professor Beauregard pointed a finger at what at first glance appeared to be dark stains in the wooden panels, but as Abe approached, they became deep, long scorch marks, at least one on the side longer than his forearm. “What could even do this? A flamethrower, maybe? But the angles are all wrong, and if someone was trying to get inside they would go for the locks or just burn a hole through the wood, which would be a disaster of epic proportions—”

“Holes like that one, you mean?” Illinois asked, pointing out a perfectly round hole with charred edges, just about big enough to stick a finger in.

“Oh no, oh no oh no oh no,” Professor Beauregard moaned as she fumbled with her keys, only to drop them when the first lock gave way before she even put the key in. “This can’t be happening!”

“Someone picked the locks?” Abe said, but the professor answered by just yanking on one lock after the other, each one in turn proving to be open as the chains around the crate gave way and crashed to the floor. He looked at Peter, who was watching all of this with wide eyes, and asked, “Did you hear anyone in here at any point last night?”

“Uh…well, you and Benjamin came by,” Peter said slowly, wincing as another chain hit the floor.

“But did anyone else—”

Abe was distracted by the professor’s cry of relief as the very last lock, the one holding a chain around the center of the standing crate in place, proved to still be unlocked.

“They didn’t get in,” she said.

“Why stop at the last lock?” Illinois asked, and Professor Beauregard gave him a frantic look before snatching up her key ring and undoing the lock herself.

The professor pulled open the door and the three men leaned in behind her, all four sagging backwards when the contents of the box were revealed—Beauregard with relief, and the other three with disappointment.

Abe, Illinois, and Peter could all easily see over the professor’s head, but after that buildup there was only one thing in what now seemed to be a comically oversized crate, just a single, palm-sized crystal. Just some jewel like you would use for decoration, held in place by a series of supports to keep it from being bumped or knocked around during transit. Those supports and cushioning around the sides were the only explanation for the size of the crate, but it hardly looked like it was worth all the effort.

It was just a rock.

Just a single crystal that emitted a soft blue light which the longer they stared at it, the more it seemed to draw the rest of the light of the train car in, their lanterns dimming by comparison with that beautiful, mesmerizing sight.

And then the professor closed the crate, breaking the spell and driving back the strange darkness that flickered in the corner of the eye like dust motes until it was like it had never been there at all.

“Seems like a lot of effort to go through for just a shiny rock,” Abe commented, already forgetting how it had seemed to pull at him, pull at the occupied hole in his heart.

“Oh, believe me, it’s never ‘just’ a rock,” Illinois said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth at some thought.

“What, are you a geologist too?” Abe asked.

“This hole,” Professor Beauregard muttered, ignoring both of them while she tapped on the hole that Illinois had pointed out. “Based on the angle and penetration, it must have…Oh! Oh, sugar!”

“Sugar?” Abe repeated.

“It hit the crystal! Whatever ‘it’ was, a flame or a bullet or some other projectile, there must have been some kind of transfer of kinetic energy that reacted with the already overexcited particles already contained within the crystalline structure, leading to a massive discharge,” the professor said in a burst and looked around, only to be disappointed when those around her failed to realize the gravity of her words. “Right, of course, none of you know—well, of course you wouldn’t know, you absolutely shouldn’t know, but—oh, what am I allowed to say…”

“If it has something to do with the murder or the other things going on, then I’d say all of it,” Abe said.

The engineer started and stared at him. “Hold up, did you say ‘murder’? We haven’t even been stopped in the snow an hour yet, what are you people doing back there?!”

“About that stopping in the snow thing…” Professor Beauregard hissed and, coming to some kind of decision, said, “This stone might have knocked out all the power on the train and caused the blackout that got us stuck in the snow.”

In the ensuing silence, she shrugged and said, “My bad?”

Abe considered the overabundance of ways he could respond to something like that, then with what felt like a heroic effort of will, managed to narrow it down to one he thought might actually be helpful. “Does that mean you might know how to fix the blackout then?”

“Oh! Hm…” The professor paused to regard the idea. “Well, I mean how hard could it be? It’s got to be easier than jury-rigging a blaster from an esoteric and little understood source of energy of unknown origin.”

“See, you would think that,” the engineer said, “but some of the wiring and whatnot on this train can be a bit fiddly, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s my favorite kind!” The professor beamed in the lantern light without a trace of sarcasm, leaving Abe to suspect that she was just the sort to enjoy a challenge.

Not that he had much room to comment there himself, but he still felt the need to stop the engineer before she could pull him back up front toward the engine compartment.

“Hold on a second, whatever your name is.”

“Peter Pilotsson,” the engineer offered, pointing at the name tag on his shirt.

“Yeah, like I’m going to remember that,” Abe scoffed. “Before you get to playing with your fiddly bits, I have some questions for you. Starting with how the hell you didn’t hear any of this happening.”

He gestured toward the obvious burn marks and holes on and around the crate.

“Hard to hear anything over the sound of the train engine going,” Peter pointed out. “Well, you know, when it’s actually going.”

“You were literally one car away, just on the other side of this wall!” Abe struck said wall as he spoke and was rewarded with a satisfying thump and a numbness in his hand that more or less went away when he shook it. “You were in the engine car when the power went out, weren’t you?”

“Of course I was,” Peter answered quickly, shifting his grip back and forth on the oversized wrench in his hands as he did so for lack of anything else to do with his hands. “That’s the only reason I was able to stop the train before we plowed right into the snowbank, remember? I was so busy with that, and over the screech of the brakes anything could have been going on behind me for all I knew.”

“And yet we could hear the gunshots on our end of the train,” Abe mused, before stopping himself. Had they, though? Even if the gunshots he heard weren’t just a figment of his fevered dreams, there certainly hadn’t been enough of them to account for all of the damage visible just in this one area.

He raised the lantern a little higher, the better to take in the strange burns.

No, if these were the result of someone shooting, then it was with a gun Abe didn’t know. Maybe something like the blaster the professor had stowed back in her room, or…

Abe reached toward his coat pocket with his free hand, but froze before he could touch Happy’s gun as the lantern’s light caught something else he had failed to notice until now with the crate taking all of the attention.

“What the hell?!” Abe rushed over to the safe in the wall, the very same safe that the engineer/conductor had stowed the detective’s gun while spouting all of that nonsense about protocol and safety and standard operating procedures, that safe.

That very open, very empty, safe.

Abe sputtered, gesturing at the useless hunk of metal with both hands so that the lantern swung around wildly, sending the lighting and shadows in the car into absolute chaos. “Where. The Hell. Is my gun?!”

“Well, that’s not good,” Peter said slowly, Abe’s hands flexing with the urge to wrap themselves around the man’s neck. “How’d that happen, do you think?”

“’How’d that’…what do you think happened?! Someone broke into the safe you promised me was the most secure thing on this train—”

“Which it definitely is,” Peter interrupted. “What with being the only safe on the train and all.”

This was it. Abe was finally going to be the one to commit a murder.

“Did you even lock the damn thing?!”

“Of course I locked it,” the engineer protested. “Someone must have cracked it, somehow. You know, put a listening thing to the tumblers and heard them roll into place, I hear thieves can do that.”

“And you somehow didn’t notice this happening? You somehow didn’t notice the safe standing wide open for who knows how long?” Abe growled.

“Well, it’s dark enough you didn’t notice it either when you were here earlier,” Peter pointed out. “And how was I supposed to hear someone cracking the safe over the train engine and all the shooting, anyway?”

“So you did hear the shooting,” Illinois said and the engineer quickly shook his head.

“Nope, so how was I supposed to hear someone opening a safe if I couldn’t even hear all that happening?” Peter asked, gesturing at the marks all around the crate feet away from the door.

Said gesture was done with his wrench, which for a moment seemed to glisten wetly in the light of the lantern, its edges given a rusty hue by the glow of the fire.

Abe blinked and narrowed his eyes, but as far as he could tell from where he stood it was just a trick of the light.

The same couldn’t be said for the splatter on the floor, once it finally caught the detective’s eye. The lanternlight gave the small drops between the crate and the safe an oily sheen, but when Abe knelt down and brought his finger to his nose after touching the stuff there was no mistaking that scent.

“Blood,” Abe announced, standing up again.

“Not a whole lot of it,” Illinois said. While Peter and the professor had taken a step back at the word, the adventurer was scanning his surroundings in search of more and, like Abe, finding none of it. “Of course, it’s hard to judge if the wounded person was able to staunch the bleeding quickly, but you would expect a major hit to an artery or a gunshot wound to leave more of a trace.”

“Not entirely sure I would expect anything like that,” Peter admitted.

“Depends on where you're hit,” Abe muttered, the familiar pain in his chest sensing the opportunity to make itself known again. He rubbed the blood between his fingers, thinking to himself that the blood couldn’t have been here that long. Combine that with the empty safe and the damaged crate, and it was easy enough to draw the connection. He glanced at Peter and asked, "What else was in that safe, besides my gun?"

"Nothing," Peter said, shrugging at Abe's noise of disbelief. "What can I tell you? No one else had anything that needed to be put away."

"No one—are you kidding me?!" Abe sputtered. "Sure, I wasn't exactly hiding my gun holster, but did you even check anyone else? Hell, Warfstache will pull a gun or a knife if he gets a little bored, did you even try to take his weapons?"

Not that he thought the conductor would have been successful (or even alive) if he tried, but it was the principle of the thing, damn it.

"Who?" Peter asked.

"Wilford!" Abe looked around and realized that the man was still in the back of the car checking tags, or more likely had gotten bored and wandered off again. "Guy about yay high, mustache, pink and yellow, obviously trouble and not all there..."

Peter mimicked the motions Abe made while he was describing Wilford before recognition flashed in his eyes. "Oh yeah, that guy! No, I don't remember him having a gun or anything like that back at the station."

"Are you sure you're thinking of the right guy?" Abe prompted.

"I just remember he didn't really get the whole ticket thing. Tried to give me everything but one near every time I asked, but I told him, 'teddy bears and bottles of wine are nice and all, but you gotta have a ticket if you want to board my train.' Not like it's hard to get one these days, right?" Peter deflated a little as he added, "That's when he threw a snowball at me."

Yeah, that sounded like Warfstache.

“Point is, someone was hit with something—whether a bullet, a knife, a blunt object, or a badly timed nosebleed, we don’t know—and could still walk away, or else they’d still be here,” Abe said.

“They could have been carried away,” the professor said, but Abe shook his head.

“Whatever happened here likely went down just before the train stopped, right? You said it yourself, your rock over there getting damaged probably knocked out the power, and Peter hit the brakes when that happened,” Abe ticked off the order of events on his fingers as he spoke. “Train stops, we all wake up and are looking out in the hall, meaning one of us would have noticed someone carrying a dead or incapacitated body out of this car even without the lights. With Peter in the engine car, the only other place they could have taken the body is outside, and we would have noticed tracks when we went out earlier. Plus, we’ve only got one body accounted for, and I saw Happy go into his room after the lights went out, so he can’t have been dead then. Whoever’s blood this is, losing it didn’t stop them from getting the hell out of this car before Benjamin and I came through earlier.”

“That’s…actually a pretty reasonable line of logic,” Professor Beauregard said, her surprise putting a bit of a damper on the compliment but not stopping Abe from taking it anyway. “But you’re sure you saw the man?”

“I’m as sure as—” Abe hesitated, and not just because he realized he didn’t exactly have a lot of comparisons to make in that department these days.

It had been so dark, with just his lighter at the time. He had seen the door of the neighboring compartment slide shut, but had he actually seen Happy in that moment? Or had someone else entered his room?

Had he been inches away from the murderer without realizing it?

“Everyone was shouting and looking out of their rooms when the train stopped, someone else had to have seen or heard him too,” Abe said, his confidence fading when Illinois and the professor shared a look. He thought for a moment and snapped his fingers. “Mack! He was right across the hall, and I had my lighter out—if anyone else saw Happy at the same time, it would have been him.”

“Not entirely sure you want to go around pinning your hopes on that guy,” Illinois noted before shrugging. “But you do you. I take it you’re going to go question him next then?”

Abe hesitated. He did need to question the others, and Mack did make a logical next choice, but before that…

“You,” Abe said, pointing at the conductor/engineer. “Are you really going to stick with the story that you didn’t hear any of what went on in this car?”

“…Yes, I think I will,” Peter said, after a long and obvious pause to consider his options. “Don’t see why I shouldn’t, because I didn’t.”

“I’ll tell you why,” Abe said, closing the distance between them so his finger was prodding the man’s chest and their noses were nearly touching. “Because I don’t believe it for even a second. I’ve been at this long enough that I’ve got plenty of experience sniffing out bullshit, not that it takes much to smell the stuff all over you.”

In fact, the man reeked of grease and oil from the engine, but for a split-second Abe caught that familiar copper tang and his eyes went to the oversized wrench resting uneasily on Peter’s shoulder.

This close, there was no mistaking anything for tricks of light or his imagination.

“If you decide you want to tell me the truth, you come and find me—and you better hope you do before I find it for myself,” Abe said, stepping back and leaving the engineer shaking in his boots.

Maybe the threat would be enough to loosen the man’s tongue in time, but for now the professor stepped in and reminded them that she needed to get to work if they wanted to get this train up and running again anytime soon.

“Think I’ll stay with them, if that’s alright,” Illinois said, as easy and unbothered as someone commenting on the weather and not a person contemplating staying behind to keep an eye on a potential murderer. “Safety in numbers and all that. Speaking of, will that be a problem for you?”

“I prefer to work alone,” Abe lied, eye twitching at the sound of humming coming from the other end of the car. “…But I’ll make do with what I’ve got. Too many witnesses to question and too many leads to find to wait around until the prof’s got the lights back on. Let me know if you three find anything else up here.”

Illinois nodded, his trailing, “Will do,” following Abe as he once again made their way through the baggage car, back toward the source of the humming and the others.

Abe stopped on the way though, roughly halfway down the car, to hold his lantern closer to a nick in the side of one of the metal luggage racks. He’d seen enough bullets and the paths they’d taken to recognize the marking, to be able to turn and guess where it might have been fired from: right around the dark opening of the safe where his gun was last seen.

"Oh, someone's being clever," Wilford said, leaning against the nicked shelf only for Abe to grab him and move him out of the way. "What, not even a thank you?"

“You find any luggage that might have belonged to Happy?” Abe asked as he followed the line in the other direction and began to study the boxes and trunks on the shelves.

“Nope,” Wilford answered. “Did find this, though.”

Abe glanced at the postcard Wilford held up with a proud smile, and read aloud, “Missing you more every day, XOXO Herr Ring?”

“Addressed to a Norbert Moses,” Wilford added, before glancing at the postcard himself with a little wince. “Might be a little late on that one, buddy. But there you go, not one but two names that don’t belong to anyone else on this train!...I think. I’m going to be honest, I’ve already forgotten who half these people are.”

“Where did you find that?” Abe asked.

Wilford shrugged. “On the floor, right after you told me to look for stuff. Someone went and stepped on it, see?”

He flipped the postcard around to show both an image of a red fish leaping up into the stars and the very obvious shoeprint on top of it, Wilford giving the detective a very meaning stare.

“Could be anyone’s shoeprint,” Abe said, getting a scoff out of Wilford as he went back to examining the area around the nicked shelf. “And that doesn’t really help us. It’s just a kitschy postcard that anyone could have dropped.”

“I don’t know, seems like a really important clue that deserves a, ‘good job Wilford’ or a ‘you really saved this investigation, Warfstache,’” Wilford said, imitating the detective’s voice. When Abe failed to respond, he sighed and tucked the postcard into his back pocket, muttering under his breath as he did so before he asked, “And what are you looking for that’s oh so important? Looking to steal some better clothes, maybe?”

“No, I—what’s wrong with my clothes?” Abe asked and Wilford made a face that suggested even he realized there was no good place to start there. “Look, if someone fired a gun from there, and it grazed this shelf here, then it should have hit somewhere around…”

Abe trailed off, because the longer he looked the more obvious it became that there was no endpoint here. Either his line of sight was off, or…

Or, he realized as he looked down at the blood underfoot, someone took it with them, the hard way.

And he didn’t have to think long and hard to guess who that might have been.

Wilford followed his gaze downward and said, “Not me to judge, but you really need to stop stepping on all these clues, detective.”

((End of Part 8. Thanks for reading!

On the names here: Herr Ring (and other variations) appeared on the USA website, and as for Norbert Moses, well...Memento mori.

Link to Part 9: Misplaced Motives.

Tag list: @silver-owl413 @asteriuszenith @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @95fangirl @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-star-eyes @shyinspiredartist @avispate @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox@hidinginmybochard))

#markiplier #fanfiction #wkm detective #professor beauregard #ahwm illinois #peter pilotsson #wilford warfstache #murder on the warfstache express #it's never just a rock #that looks like it belongs in a museum

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animayelmao · 4 years ago

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Inumaki and Curse Seals

JJK Chapter 137 Theories/Questions

I noticed something about Inumaki while reading and.... I’m a little confused about what the implications are? So, naturally, I wrote up this super long post exploring different theories, lmao

Spoilers primarily for chapter 137 of the manga, but there are definitely spoilers for further chapters.

so... what’s going on with the bandages used on Inumaki’s injury?? When I first saw this panel, I was immediately suspicious bc his bandages/wrappings look exactly like a seal:

I even went back to chapter 1 and the markings on Inumaki’s bandages look nearly identical to the seal on Sukuna’s finger:

The previous uses of these type of seal/talisman have been to “seal curses and mediate cursed energy,” and I can only assume that this is a possible use for the seals on Inumaki’s injuries as well.

So, I guess my real question is: why would they seal Inumaki’s injury? I thought about it a little more, and have come up with some possible solutions as to why:

The first (and weakest) theory is:

1. Shoko’s healing techniques use curse seals to function. Or, she just uses curse seals as bandages for injuries done by curses, as a means of preventative care. Meaning, she wrapped Inumaki’s wounds in talisman in order to ensure that no adverse reactions would come from Sukuna injuring him.

This theory is like, the least satisfying. But it would also be super funny if it was correct, because then it would mean that I’m really just overthinking this whole thing. However, knowing Gege Akutami’s storytelling methods, it feels more important that Inumaki is wrapped up in curse seals than just “Shoko is being a cautious, good physician.”

Additionally, Shoko’s technique apparently allows her to “restore destroyed limbs” (not sure how true this is, given that we haven’t seen it in the manga), so... why isn’t Inumaki’s limb restored?

This question leads me to my second theory:

2. Sukuna’s Domain Expansion in Shibuya really fucked Inumaki’s shit up (y’know, past the whole ‘cutting his arm off’ thing) and has left him with some bad cursed symptoms. Since his injury is sealed, this theory assumes that Sukuna’s use of his “Cleave” attack during his Domain Expansion is leeching Inumaki of his cursed energy. These paper seals, in this case, would be to “fend off poison with poison by using one curse [the talisman/seal] to seal another [Sukuna’s hypothetical Domain Expansion curse].”

The issue with this is that nowhere in the manga has Sukuna’s “Cleave” attack left symptoms on its victim.... besides death. Cleave is a slashing attack that adjusts itself depending on the target's toughness and cursed energy level, and it usually cuts its opponent down in one fell swoop. Clearly, this was not the case with Inumaki, who seemed to have barely been in range (literally just his left arm, poor guy) of Sukuna’s Doman Expansion:

So, is it possible that Sukuna’s use of Cleave on Inumaki’s arm is leeching him of his cursed energy and this is the reason why he needs to seal it? I’m not sure; it seems like Inumaki is literally the only survivor of Sukuna’s Cleave attack that we know of. It’s a possibility, and maybe the most probable explanation? This could also be a great explanation/justification as to why Shoko (or even Yuuta?) is unable to restore Inumaki’s limb (again, this is assuming that the jjk wiki is right in claiming that Shoko’s abilities can restore limbs)

However, I have more theories. My third (and most complex) theory is:

3. The elders/higher-ups of the Jujutsu world are terrible (duh) and are using Inumaki as an incentive for Yuuta to act according to their will. The following pages in the manga (chapter 137) seem to support this idea:

This chapter begins with Yuuta killing curses to prove to the elders that he can be trusted as Yuuji’s executioner, and that he will follow their commands. But why would Yuuta even need to gain their trust? Couldn’t they get someone else to execute Yuuji? Clearly not, if they choose Yuuta over anyone else; in my mind, this means that Yuuta is the only person strong enough to execute Sukuna’s vessel, and so, the elders need to be completely certain that Yuuta will kill Yuuji instead of joining his side. In their minds (and rightfully so, lmao), if Yuuta and Yuuji are on the same side and against them, it can mean serious trouble.

So, clearly, the elders need to ensure that Yuuta will kill Yuuji. They even have Yuuta enter a binding vow with them to be certain that he kills Yuuji. In my mind, using Inumaki in his injured state is a perfect incentive to make sure that Yuuta follows their orders. As of right now, the specifics of the binding vow that Yuuta enters haven’t been disclosed; so, perhaps Inumaki is part of said vow?

Binding vows with others have to benefit both parties; if Yuuta kills Yuuji (benefitting the elders), then Yuuta must also benefit from the other party in return. Given the fact that Yuuta brings up Inumaki and his injury right after proposing a binding vow, I want to assume that Yuuta’s profit from the vow would involve Inumaki in some way. Perhaps he gets access from the elders to heal Inumaki? The possibilities are endless.

For a boy who values the relationships he has with his friends (arguably his closest friend?), using a threat towards Inumaki/the promise of helping Inumaki is the perfect motivation for Yuuta to kill Yuuji.

Personally? This is my favourite theory because it’s angsty and I live for this kind of stuff. Not only this, but it also feels like a possibility because of the strife that’s going on in the Jujutsu world right now. If the elders can’t trust Yuuta to perform his duties as Yuuji’s exorcist, then it makes sense that they would use Inumaki as leverage to ensure that Yuuta does what he’s told to.

But, then, even more questions are raised at this point:

1. what do the curse seals do to Inumaki, if they are put on him?

In this case, it seems like the curse seals wouldn’t be used in the same way as the previous theory (which is to fight a hypothetical Sukuna curse off). Rather, these curse seals would probably be used to stop Inumaki from using his cursed energy entirely; just like how they stopped the cursed energy in Sukuna’s fingers early on in the story.

This theory would explain why neither Shoko nor Yuuta could heal Inumaki’s arm-- assuming that the talisman isn’t there directly because of something that Sukuna is doing to Inumaki. We see in Volume 0 that Yuuta’s reversed curse technique saves Maki’s incredibly mangled leg and fixes it to its original state. Additionally, even more recently in Chapter 143, Yuuta uses the same technique to heal Naoya:

This theory leads me to believe that Yuuta can (again, assuming that Sukuna isn’t actively leeching Inumaki’s cursed energy or something else) heal Inumaki’s arm, but is unable to do so because of the higher ups in the Jujutsu world. If they are using Inumaki as a pawn to ensure that Yuuta kills Yuuji, of course they wouldn’t let Yuuta heal Inumaki. (Now, this is all assuming that Yuuta is able to fix injuries hours or days after they occur, as we’ve only seen him heal injuries right after they have been done. This could be another reason why Yuuta can’t heal Inumaki’s arm, lmao).

My biggest counter to this is: what happens if Inumaki just... takes the curse seal off? wouldn’t they stop being effective?

So, (and this makes the most sense, tbh), perhaps the curse seals are there because of some funky Sukuna business (as mentioned in theory 2), which serves as a primary motivator for Yuuta to enter a vow with the elders in the first case. In this way, theory 2 and 3 would be combined. If Sukuna is hurting Inumaki in some way, the elders can be using this to coerce Yuuta into a binding vow that would help Inumaki once Yuuta carries out his executioner duties.

One of the possible problems I have with this theory is that it is maybe very contingent upon where the fuck Inumaki is even at. In chapter 144 when everyone is reunited with Maki, Inumaki isn’t there. But, Inumaki is (probably) awake and recovering from his injuries in the single panel we see of him in chapter 137. So... where is he? If he is anywhere besides at Jujutsu High, I assume he is in the possession of the higher ups. Which would explain a lot, and how particularly downtrodden Inumaki looks in the panel (besides the fact that he got his arm cut off, obviously). Yet, nobody seems too concerned about him, which maybe means that he’s probably (hopefully?) with everyone at Jujutsu High-- just offscreen with Panda or smthn).

But, to defend this theory, Yuuta seems to be in contact with both the elders and Jujutsu High, so maybe it’s the same deal with Inumaki? Inumaki doesn’t necessarily need to be in the possession of the higher ups in order for them to infringe upon him. Especially in tumultuous times like these, in which Gojo and Principle Yaga are not there to protect the students, and there is now some sort of Culling Game going on?? Essentially, what I’m getting at is that the higher ups are extremely in power right now. Even if Inumaki isn’t with them physically, they still may have a large influence over what happens to him.

One of the actual problems I have with this theory is that Yuuta “killing” Yuuji and being unable to supply his body would mean trouble for Inumaki. In chapter 143, Naoya gets healed by Yuuta in exchange for promising to tell his superiors that Yuuji is dead... but, would they believe this without evidence (aka, Yuuji’s body)? If they do, then good! Yuuta saves both Yuuji and Inumaki, and all is well. But if they don’t believe this and demand Yuuji’s corpse, then Inumaki is definitely in danger once the higher ups find out. Or, if the binding vow didn’t register Yuuji’s temporary death by Yuuta, that would mean great harm would be done to Inumaki, probably.

I’m just not sure if Yuuta would even bargain Inumaki like that? But, the fact that Yuuta makes Naoya tell their superiors, rather than reporting directly to them himself seems to prove that Yuuta believes Naoya’s word is enough. Regardless, Yuuta seems confident that the binding vow he made with the superiors was completed by “killing” Yuuji-- regardless of whether Inumaki is involved with the vow or not.

Granted, it seems that Yuuta has changed a bit since coming back, so we’ll see. Maybe he is extremely confident in himself now, to the extent that he is willing to bargain something like Inumaki’s wellbeing in a binding vow. Who knows?

Of course, I have to confess that I understand that I am giving little mind to translation when giving these theories; I read the English translated version of the manga, so I can only make assumptions with the material I have. Maybe I’m missing something crucial because of this?

Anyways. These are the theories I have right now! I know this post was extremely long-winded, but if I didn’t write all this out, I was going to Explode. This is literally all I have been thinking about since I saw the panel with Inumaki. If anyone else wants to talk about this by adding to my ideas or poking holes in them, PLEASE do. I need to know that I’m not the only person thinking about this, omg.

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mayullla · 3 years ago

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Title: Android's wired love

Character(s): Android (unnamed character / original work)

Summary: You were trapped in your own home by the android that took care of your needs.

Warnings/Tags: Fem!reader, yandere themes, isolation, infantilization, implied humiliation in the past, implied physical abuse in the past, news/tv shows of death [fearful reader, a little sadistic and monotoned android]

It wasn't supposed to end like this, you thought as you listened to the news where the androids that were once so called soulless workers are now causing havoc and turning against the humans.

You watched as many humans were pushed into slavery or brutally murdered if they try to strick back. Even children and women are not excused from this onslaught. You watched as the news coldly show children crying at the bloody corpse of their parents and before you could see anymore your eyes were covered by something cold.

You flinched and leaned back trying to get away from those hands, yet it followed you gently covering your eyes from all the gore on the huge tv screen yet you can still hear the screams and cries coming from it, twisting your gut and screaming to you to do something.

You didn't, not when the one holding you down was the same kind who were killing humans right now.

“You shouldn't watch something so goreish, it isn't good for your heart.” A deep monotone voice rang from above you. You wondered how a thing that is just wires and bolts could be so hypocritical.

The tv was on the moment you stepped into the living room, the screams of the people filled your ears. It was as if he was telling you that, these people could be you. “Your heart is beating faster, see what I mean I told you it is not good for you. You don't need to see something horrible when all you need to be is happy.

You felt the hands on your eyes leave your face, their cold hand gently touching you. You kept your eyes closed maybe you wished that maybe by closing your eyes you won't see him, that in reality, he wasn't there and that it was just your thought.

But you quickly had to open your eyes when you were suddenly carried from the sofa you were resting. Opening your eyes, you looked at the android that held you. Exposed skin felt the cold skin this android had.

Cold, robotic, lifeless..

“Master will calm down after a bath. After that, you shall eat lunch.”

You wished you didn't pay more to make him look more human. You wished you didn't ask the company to make him look as human as possible, customizing your android. You wished you didn't give him human like blue eyes that glowed in the dark always watching you when you were supposed to sleep at night.

“I don't want to take a shower…” You said looking at the android hesitantly. “I want to eat. I am hungry.” You didn't want to take a shower while your privacy was invaded by the android who looks at you as if you were nothing but a mere child that doesn't know what they were doing.

He stopped on his step and looked at you, “But you need to calm down, your heart rate has sped up again.” You wondered if he was mocking you, but his voice was deep but it was monotone and bland. But the way he was holding your tights tightly as if warning you, not to act up.

You gulped your saliva and shook your head at him, “Sorry, but I don't want to… I already had a shower last night, maybe later… please.” Right on cue, your stomach growled in hunger. You flushed in embarrassment, this wasn't meant to happen.

But at the same time, you found relief that the android turned and headed to the kitchen away from the bathroom. “It seems that master really was hungry. I am sorry, for not noticing.” He apologized yet it didn't seem that genuine. But you can feel that he was rather amused by your embarrassment.

Taking you to the kitchen he placed you on the seat. You looked at the door that was to the outside when you felt something grip your shoulder, looking at the hand that was holding your shoulder only to see cold eyes made you flinch and forced yourself to look down, away from the door.

You didn't see the small tilt that appeared on his face as he looked at you, almost satisfied that you were now listening to him unlike before when you particularly in the mood for being a brat that he had to flip you on your stomach on his knee and hit your butt as a punishment. As you screamed to be unhandled and that he was a monster.

In the end of it, you were always crying and apologizing to him. While he would put cooling cream and shush you asking you if you would continue acting like a child. Which you sniffled like an adorable sad puppy as you shook your head, he took many videos and saved it in his files for safe keeping.

And in his worst moods, he would lock you in your room and won't let you out till you beg him that you would be good, and that you would push away your food or run out because it was too dangerous for you to be out when androids started killing humans. You should be glad that he was still taking care of you. You were so kind to him even when he was nothing but a robot created by humans.

He is just helping you, so why do you constantly want to run away? Just be a good girl and let him do all the work for you. T was just two days ago that you screamed at him to let you out did you receive a heavy beating that he was sure that your butt was still sore for all the beating, he overdid it this time, frustration taking over a bit but in the end, it paid off.

You are just adorable when you flinched as he sat you down on the chair as if in pain but stayed quiet, while he didn't feel sorry it was mildly entertaining. And when you looked at the door that leads outside he gave you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, did you flinch again and look down.

Releasing you he headed to the kitchen, food already prepared and ready. Taking the food he walked over to you, placing the food down only meant for one person. You looked at the food hesitant.

“What should you say when someone does something good?” he asked, his voice warning. You flinched “t-thank you.” you mumbled moving you took the utensils and started eating, small bits as he had forced you to do in case you might chock.

“It is delicious.”

“I am glad that my master likes it.” He sat beside you, as he watched you eat your food. His hand on his chin, unlike before his voice was once monotone he now had a small smile on his face. You took another bite on the food, you wanted to rush but you knew that it would be a bad idea to do so.

“My master is really clumsy, she cant take care of herself it seems.” You flinched when he touched your chin, near your lip, as if wiping something of your face. Looking to see that bits of food were stuck on his hand that was once on your face.

You blushed in embarrassment when you saw him lick it from his finger, staring at you almost seductive. Yet to you, his eyes looked almost mad and obsessed.

“It is too bad that I can't taste what the food is like,” he said, amusement danced in his eyes that were supposed to be lifeless.

After you finished eating, you were quick to thank the android again as he took the dishes away to wash them, you stayed in your place as he started making small talk with you, updating you with what is happening in the world as if the news didn't already tell everything you need to know.

He gave you the news you how the owner and creator of the androids and the person who sold them was found in the countryside somewhere in the farms hiding was finally caught and shot to death by his own creations. What humanity thought was their reason for their suffering and also the only way out, died.

You didn't know how to feel about this, as you weren't surprised really. You didn't think that they could help you much but to hearing it is very different, maybe you did have some hope that you had a chance to leave this place. Only for that hope to dissipate.

You bite your lip holding yourself from crying. The android was quick to notice and moved towards you hushing you as you tried to stop yourself from crying. Placing you on his lap as he pat you on the back, kissing the crown of your head, when his touch was cold and hard something you can feel thought your clothes and hair. It wasnt comforting at all not when it came from your captor.

“See you need someone to be around you, how can you take care of yourself.” His tone was mocking and more painful to listen than the monotone voice he had before. Why did he do that? Did he want you to suffer remembering the past when you thought that he was nothing more than a mindless machine?

It took your a few minutes but you quickly had to force yourself to calm down as his kiss grew closer and closer to your lips. It was unsettling but he didnt push it and instead pushed a pill in your mouth and took you the bathroom. Thankfully he didnt push the shower and instead helped you get dressed for bed, and brush you teeth and wash your face.

He took you to your room and placed you in your bed, you looked at the window where you saw that the sun just disappeared from site yet still bright outside. “Why..? you hesitantly asked.

“You are too stressed.” he said to you, “If you do not wish to take a shower, sleep should be enough for you.” you pouted at him “I… I don't want to sleep.”

“Shuuush, you need to sleep.”

You froze when you saw him moved to your bed lying right beside you his arm supporting his head as your eyes were in line with his almost buffed chest. You looked up at him and tried to push yourself away from him, this was the first time he invited himself to your bed.

But you were stopped when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. “Sleep, I will be right beside you.” He said, his tone going back to his monotone voice confusing you again.

He could sense your stress spike again, looking at you your eyes had tears again and you weakly glared at him confused.

“Why…” he heard you say, “why are you like this…” you continued “i dont understand, I don't understand at all…” your voice was weak barely a whisper but he can hear everything clearly.

You didn't get an answer as the pill that he forced you drink finally took its course forcing you into your slumber and finally rest. Yet tears continued to fall from your eyes again as if you were in pain.

He moved his hand to wipe your tears away, watching you as you sniffle in your sleep. Pulling the blanket to cover you up more and keep you warm except your face, your eyes red and puffy. Looking at your face he leaned in and moved the hair that was on your face clinging on your wet lashes.

Moving he leaned forward and kissed you lips almost solem. Pausing for a moment he raised his head to look at you.

“It is because I love you.”

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goingmorry · 4 years ago

Note

Heey!! How would be jealous sex with Ace and Shanks? pls

I love your writing💖

OP Boys -> fucking you when they're jealous

Characters: Ace and Shanks

Tags: NSFW, female reader, jealous sex, PIV, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex, dirty talk

Author's Note: It's Nasty Sunday, y'all! 👁👅👁

PORTGAS D. ACE

"Ace, gods—" you swallow the accumulated saliva collecting in your mouth, throat bobbing in mild discomfort, "Y–you're being—" another gasp from you, another thrust from him, "Too... rough!"

"S-sorry, babe. Got a little carried away."

Pace faltering, his warm hands rest gently on your hips while you set the tempo, deliberately riding him with the sole intention of milking him of every last drop afforded to you.

It started out that way for a while, at least.

Now, in the throes of passion, the slow and steady pace as you lower your cunt onto his demanding cock does little to curb his growing need to possess you. Taking matters into his own hands, Ace grips the back of your thighs to pull you forward toward him. Collapsing onto his hard torso, you feel his muscles ripple with the effort of fucking you into oblivion.

"P-please, baby," he begs in your ear, voice raspy and desperate, "Don't think of anyone else... when you're with me."

Flush against his bare chest, he peppers kisses onto your swollen lips, wildly thrusting into your sopping core from below. You can't help the pleasurable screams that fall from your lips, compelling him to continue his relentless onslaught on your delicate body.

"Y-you're mine," he says, more for his own benefit than yours, to convince himself that you want to be his, "And no one else's."

You let your mouth do the talking, tongue battling against his own for dominance. For a moment, Ace lets you win, accepting your passionate assault like a starving man, knowing full-well that you're the first to surrender from the overwhelming sensations of your lovemaking.

As if on cue, you buckle into his touch, the slapping of his balls against your clit reverberating loudly across the bedroom, making you delirious with pleasure.

Feeling how close you are to cumming all over his hard length from his possessive words, you cry out over and over again, conveying your longing for release, "K-keep going, Ace... Please!"

Unbelievably aroused by your frantic pleas, his cock begins to pulse in response to the wet slickness of your tight sheath.

It's the powerful fluttering of your walls that does him in, a clear indication of your orgasm wrecking the entirety of your body from head to toe. Head thrown back in fierce abandon, Ace paints your insides with spurts of his essence, filling you up to the brim with his seed.

Riding out your aftershocks, you slump on top of him, breathing heavily from exhaustion. A few minutes pass by in silence — you basking in the pleasant feeling of soreness spread throughout your thoroughly spent body — before Ace chimes in, voice laced with salacious intent.

"Ready for round two?"

SHANKS

"You're attracting too much attention these days, sweetheart. Looks like you need me to remind you who you belong to."

His right hand insistently presses against the back of your head, dragging you toward the front of his crotch. Eyeing the prominent bulge in his trousers, cock straining to be free from its confines, you slowly lick the sudden dryness of your lips.

His eyes darken at your lustful expression, hand tugging against your silky locks to urge you on, and growls, "You look good like that. On your knees for me."

"I'll look even better with your cock in my mouth," you say unabashedly, hands snaking across his waist to pull down his pants in one swift motion, freeing his erection.

His cock is thick and heavy against your palm — base wide enough that you can't fully grasp him — but you make do. You give it a few tentative pumps, earning a low and approving grunt from your lover.

Spurred on by the tightening of his grip in your hair, you replace your hands with your mouth, licking the base of his shaft to the tip before engulfing the soft head in your wet heat.

You've always had trouble with taking him all the way in, your tiny mouth struggling to accommodate his massive size. Slackening your jaw to make room for him, you settle on a slow but steady rhythm, fucking him over and over with the suction of your plump lips and the seductive curl of your tongue on his sensitive head.

Shanks is a sight to behold, crimson hair slick in sweat and falling past his nape, dark eyes blown wide at the overwhelming feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. When you take him in deeper and deeper, his mouth slightly parts in ecstasy, unable to restrain himself from showing you how good you make him feel.

All for your eyes only.

To be able to reduce Shanks — a man well-known for his strong composure and charismatic nature as one of the Four Emperors of the Sea — into a primal beast, concerned only for his release, is enough to make you moan in wanton desire, the dampness of your underwear making you squirm desperately in search of friction.

In your admiration of his sinful display, your pace stutters, causing your normally patient pirate captain to grip your throat in warning.

"Didn't say you could stop, darling."

He tightens his hold on you, taking control of your mouth by dragging you forward and backward on his pulsing length. Voice muffled, you moan at his unusually rough handling of you, the vibration of your voice going straight to his cock, sending pleasurable shivers to course through his tense body.

"Oh, baby," he coos, "You like choking on my cock like that, don't you?"

You don't respond — you can't — surrendering to his control as he continues to pound his dick against your throat in harsh erratic strokes. Losing your balance, your hands grip his thighs for comfort, fingernails digging into his warm flesh in retaliation.

You let him take you the way you want to be taken.

The way you're meant to be taken.

"Fuck..." he moans, louder this time, "Look at you. You're taking me so well."

The vision of you — completely helpless, cheeks tinged rosy pink, eyes glazed over in desire, and on your knees, for no other man but him — sets his blood on fire.

It's only then that his orgasm hits him hard, hand digging into the smooth expanse of your neck as he shoves you impossibly deeper into his cock. His white, hot essence spills directly into your craving mouth, and you let his seed linger there for a while, savoring the salty taste of him before swallowing every last drop.

Eyes flashing dangerously, an unspoken vow for a long night ahead, his smirk is mischievous as he insistently pulls your thighs apart, revealing your neglected sex for him to do with as he pleases.

"I'm not through with you yet."

#one piece #portgas d. ace x reader #shanks x reader #one piece x reader #one piece writing #one piece imagines #one piece scenarios #thot level: maximum percent #mywriting

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soukoku-fic-recs · 3 years ago

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music au fics:

Hi!! A new masterlist has arrived!!

In this list you'll find every tipe of music au fics: from rockstar chuuya to music prodigy dazai and everything in between!!

Have a great day!!

-f

Fallen Siren by A5158: Once, they were partners. But everything ends when one left.

The Mafia Guide to Marching Band by Spax99: The marching band au that you never knew you needed.

Under A Paper Moon by jng: Chuuya was only fifteen when Double Black took the stage by storm. The sudden onslaught of followers, and performances, and interviews, and opportunities had been everything he'd craved. He was fifteen when Double Black was formed, and eighteen when it all came crashing down. Four years later, and the past he'd long since forgotten was back to haunt him. Or more specifically, certain bandage covered idiots were back, and ready to forge his own path. Or the rockstar au that absolutely no one asked for but I'm here to deliver anyways. Inspired by arabaki's band au on tiktok. Fic title comes from the song 'Under A Paper Moon' by All Time Low.

Rock My World by purplesan: ‘You made me happy too, you know.’ Dazai murmured. Chuuya froze in the doorway for a little while, but didn’t make any attempt at turning around. Dazai being Dazai though, he still couldn’t tell the redhead his true feelings. ‘Good luck performing later.’ he brought out instead. Chuuya slammed the door shut in his face. (You made me happy too, it’s just that no one had taught me how to smile yet.) Or: Dazai leaves the members of his band hanging just before a concert, and reappears as a guitarist for another band months later. Chuuya never quite forgives him for this

Sorrow Already Spoiled by orphan_account: Dazai always believed that someone's soul is hidden on their eyes. And when he saw that blue eyes, he saw a lost man, as the darkness that corrupted him was growing more and more, and the redhead couldn't control it anymore. Still, he saw the light on his eyes, as this man was still trying to fight all his sorrows, even if he is so damaged. Somehow, Dazai understood it.

special fan privilege by setosdarkness: Port Mafia Boss Dazai is Band Chuuya’s biggest fan.

Still With Me, Still With You by NastyaEx: Every Saturday night, Chuuya, Gin and Tachihara perform a song at their school's sports hall. It's an event between students, where they can be the public or the performers. Dazai is Mori's nephew, the CEO of a music company. When he finds out about Chuuya's talent, he wants him to join his uncle's agency. Chuuya refuses, until one event gives him no other choice.

Singers, Dancers, Stray Dogs by get_ao3: A (mind the tags) music-industry AU of Bungo Stray Dogs. Singer Dazai Osamu is on the run from his famous music producer, Mori Ougai, after a bitter “falling out”-- but the superstar’s got a plan. Chuuya Nakahara is a former choreographer whose talent agency tycoon is taking LA by storm, and Dazai knows just what the loudmouth snob needs to boost his brand to the top: why, himself, of course.

Andante, Andante by Thepromisedplatypus: Osamu Dazai was once a world-famous child violinist and composer. Now, he is just an annoying teenager with a tendency to seduce classmates. After a freak encounter with Japanese tabloids, he is banished to London to study music in obscurity. All hell breaks loose when he ends up sharing a flat with Chuuya Nakahara, a piano prodigy who already hates his guts. ( College AU where Dazai and Chuuya end up as rival music students in London. Cue enough tension to snap piano strings. )

Tones by DanganStrayDogs: Chuuya laid his hand on the familiar instrument. It was an elegant one, of sleek, polished wood and delicate strings, and one he loved with all of his heart. It was this instrument that he loved so dearly, the one that enabled him to see every hue he loved in the rainbow. With each note, he could visualize the color he associated with it, and they were all of his favorites. It was almost as if this instrument had been made for him. His fingers itched to play, and his mind ached for the colors.

I Wanna Dance With Somebody by saffroncassis: Chuuya (only partially on accident, promise) vandalizes the set for the Yokohama School of Music and Dance's senior showcase, and needs to make up for it with community service. Meanwhile, Dazai’s partner for his scholarship-earning duet, Yosano, is out with a strained leg and he needs a replacement. They come to an agreement that's the solution to both their problems, and the cause of a few more. AKA: the Step Up AU you never knew you needed

#soukoku #soukoku fanfiction #soukoku fanfic #skkn #skk fanfic #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #fic rec #fic masterlist

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simiansmoke · 2 years ago

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@citizensofeggton cont.

"Pft, 'general'? That seems like a tall title for somebody shorter than one of these." Lifting a trunk of an arm where a series of three of the Kong kids hung- one over handed, one underhanded, and the other by the legs, looking more like a family of opossums than apes. A burst of flexes via his bicep cause the tag-alongs to squeeze their perch tighter and laugh while also engaging in the age-old activity of trying to make each other fall off via tickle attacks. "I never said it made me special." The Kong prince shrugs, also illiciting a chorus of chitters from the tailed Konglings on his shoulders. "Just one of those 'is what it is' so might as well take the rizz sorta things."

After one last dab to the sniffling kid's face, DK tucks the end of his tie into a grubby little hand and lightly loops it once around the conjoined wrist. There...a child leash. With a nod to signal they were all set to get back on the path towards the ice cream kart he figured would be at the beach at this point of the day with the sun high and demanding some way of cooling off, he begins to pad forward again towards the end of the dock where saw grass and sand swallowed up wooden planks and a path of Kong prints made a trail through the dunes.

Curious about the ape comment, he raised a brow at her assertion. "So you're saying...your kingdom's got Kongs? Dunno how far away you are, but that's kinda weird. The Jungle Kingdom's the only place as far as I know that we call home. Well...maybe after that big mess with the fruit tribes." Though his tone was pondering, he couldn't help the bitter taste forming in his mouth, though spitting to the side helps. Almost as if on cue, several of the Konglings copied him and eagerly spat into the sand. A good role model, for sure.

The kid he'd tethered continued to walk along, seemingly content to have something to hold onto - even if it wasn't a fluffy tail. They still stole a look over at their short and fuzzy chaperone, though flinched when she made mention of how tough they were even though they'd snotted up a bit back there, though not really from a scuff or a scrape, but moreso the feeling like they'd gotten in trouble for continuing to chase it. The reassurance is enough to earn a shy smile complete with a missing front tooth. "Yeahhh, I'm ganna be tUFF!" Leashed or not, the kid proceeds with a puffed chest.

"Uhh, keep the toughness down a level, champ. We all needa keep up here." DK grumbles, though he's partially glad the kid's got time to dry his face off now in the sun and perk up before he has to return the lot. The less explaining he has to do, the better-

As his paws enter the sand, the kids can't help but want to pound around in the loose earth, leaping off and racing around with renewed energy. That plus the sand's pretty hot and they're quick to keep their knuckles from cooking too much. DK pauses at the threshold between wood and sand to regard the dock trail behind them. "Eh...I guess railing wouldn't be that bad of a project. I could probably put up a few one morning before it gets hot." It wasn't like he was a stranger to carpentry either, given the tree house he'd made in his youth, shaky - unstable junk of a shack that it was.

The ice cream kart up ahead was just that - a rather large go kart parked on the sands with a trailer attached. Pictures of vibrant, sea-salt popsicles lined the side. As it slowly came into view, DK watched the onslaught of Konglings line up for a race to the finish line of frozen treats. "You know, I'm not against judging someone entirely based off their favorite ice cream flavor." Of course he isn't.

#//let the judgement commence!#citizensofeggton #long post

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spacetimewraithwrites-archive · 3 years ago

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Find the Word Tag Game

(Double Feature)

(tw: death, kissing (y'know, I tried))

tagged by: taking an open tag by @sleepyowlwrites and was tagged by @druidx!! my words: useful, hopeful, dreadful, colorful, deep, daze, tongue, nature, people, farmer, possession tagging: @ashen-crest, @drabbleitout, @zmwrites, @drippingmoon, anyone who wants to, and Red Lobster, who has apparently made it a goal to upset my entire life by making me think they took mozzarella sticks off their menu when they didn't your words: boil, burn, bear/bare, been, brush, blue

useful (Aurora)—

A graha captain ordered their soldiers to flank the onslaught, and the lenayan snipers held back, perching on a distant hill to be their most useful.

Warren shot a tendril slithering on the ground toward his ankle. "How are we doing?" he asked the other nuke teams.

"Charge two active."

"Charge four en route."

"Charge three nearing destination, but it looks like we've got some company waiting."

Warren looked around, coming face-to-face with a Rebellia commander. "Take backup to charge three's coordinates. Make sure they've got a clear spot to set up."

The commander nodded and called their team to follow him back to the shuttles.

hopeful (Meridian)—

Thrive traversed the rubble and the crater after the fires had been put out, silhouetted against the remaining embers, grief etched deep in his face. Warren, with zero life in him, helped him search for something, anything to hold onto so he could send remains to the Sky.

A hopeful part of Warren imagined that ——— had [protected themselves] as the meteors started hitting. Got away somewhere before the big one, and they were waiting for them in the sidelines.

Within the debris, Thrive's foot knocked into the mangled remains of a disembodied arm. ———.

He stared at it.

Warren ignored the bile rising in his throat and waited for Thrive to say something, or to stop staring at the remains of ———, or to move on.

But all he did was stare at it. For minutes.

"Mark where you found it and keep going," Warren said. "Thrive. Keep moving."

Thrive shot a tracker holo into the ground next to the arm and peeled his gaze away. His silence made Warren uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to try to alleviate it. The pain was too great.

dreadful (Rebirth)—

Thrive turned his attention back to Guetry and everyone quizzically retreating from him to the corner of the room. He tensed, suspicious. "Warren…"

"Okay, uh…" Warren rubbed his hands together. "I didn't plan anything to say here, so I'm just going to speak from my heart, as they say. First of all...I'm sorry I'm doing this in front of literally everyone on this ship, and it's just now occurring to me that this is probably a bad idea."

Guetry shook his head in time to the music.

"But," Warren continued, comprehending the cue, "I'm balls-deep in this, now, so...please let me get this out before saying anything else."

Thrive met his eyes, and while the expression on his face wasn't exactly one of excitement, it also wasn't clear what it did represent.

Warren's stomach did an uncomfortable flip but he soldiered on. "I didn't think this would happen to me. Nowhere in any part of my brain did it once cross my mind that I could be standing in front of you, having been through everything we've been through together. God, this is so fucking dreadfully cliché." He twisted his fingers. Cleared his throat.

colorful (Rebirth)—

The capital house proved just as empty as far as they could tell just by walking through the corridors, and Warren began to feel helpless. There appeared to be no indication that the Emmuli had swept through, though that meant nothing, and he could see the stress in Thrive's clenched jaw when they turned the corner into the kitchen.

"Do you think they're—"

"SURPRISE!"

Warren reared back, clutching Thrive's arm as a cacophony of sound exploded from the floor of the kitchen where everyone stood, waving bits of colorful cloth and glittery paper through the air. They'd dressed in very elaborate robes, shiny and sparkly and beautiful, grinning broadly and ushering [Thrive and Warren] into the room, which had been decorated with an abundance of native flora and hollow glass shapes full of dyed water.

"My heart stopped, I think," Warren stammered, allowing Lohra to gently guide him by the elbow down the stairs. "Not even the eliyi got me fucked up like this."

Thrive let out a gently amused snort of air despite himself and descended after them. "What are we celebrating?"

"Being together!" Plio shoved his way through the crowd and took his place at the counter, levitating a frosted bottle over a row of yellow glasses, splashing an exorbitant amount of the clear liquid everywhere before successfully filling each glass.

deep (Eternal)—

"It's gonna be okay," Warren said. "Don't bottle this up."

"I can't go back."

"No one's asking you to go back, Thrive."

"They will," Thrive murmured. His voice was strained, quiet. "No one else knows how to navigate Ashva like I do. Sending anyone else would be suicide."

Warren carefully approached him. "Hey...I feel like you're gonna combust in two seconds, can you please take a deep breath for me?"

Thrive took a reluctant, meaningful breath and stood straight, prying the sheets from his own fingers. "The eliyi will hear of this and investigate. They'll know the instant I set foot back into that galaxy; they'll practically smell me."

"Like that's ever stopped you before," Warren scoffed. "Remember what you did to the first Archmaster?"

Thrive still couldn't look at him, instead dragging his ceremonial silks off his shoulders and chest as he stared blankly at the wall.

daze (Meridian)—

Warren positioned himself in front of the viewscreen with [Thoeala], massaging her shoulders. "Do what you can. Don't push yourself."

"I'm bringing him back home."

He nodded. "Bring him home."

She closed her eyes again, shifting into obhelian form. She towered over everyone else, rich indigo skin reflecting the light of the ———. She pressed two fingers into the center of her forehead, breathing deeply, jaw clenched. After a moment she raised a hand to the viewscreen, extending her fingers as if anticipating someone to grasp them in turn.

The air crackled on the bridge. Energy filled the space and raised goosebumps onto Warren's arms, bringing a lightness he hadn't felt in quite some time. He turned as Scot lowered himself onto a seat, dazed.

"...Long time no see, fellas," Warren murmured into the air.

"Warren Cougar," a voice said, a long tendril of light melting into the room, wrapping around Thoeala's hand. "State this one by name."

"Thoeala'laris," Warren replied. "Orthrive'poliea's child."

"And yours."

"Yeah." Warren swallowed. "It's been a while, huh?"

tongue (Aurora)—

"I would like to make sure you're not only asking me this because you're drunk," Thrive said.

Warren shook his head. "I said it already; I've always wanted to kiss you while you're natural. I've only just now got the confidence to ask. I didn't want you to be insulted or something."

Thrive nodded, then glanced down the hall over Warren's shoulder. "Would you prefer the privacy of our quarters?"

"I mean, sure, in case this goes somewhere weird."

Thrive wordlessly ushered Warren into their quarters, locking the door behind them. The tension resulting from that action alone made Warren's heart pound hard against his ribs, doubling in speed when Thrive placed his strong hands on his hips and pulled him against his body.

Warren met him in a heated kiss, tasting the alcohol on his tongue, breath coming out ragged with each slide of Thrive's lips across his own. His knees grew weak, clutching Thrive's shoulders to hold himself upright as heat flushed into him.

Thrive nipped Warren's bottom lip before pulling his head away, fingers digging into Warren's hips as he backed him in the direction of the bed. He sat down and kept Warren standing firmly in front of him. "Ready?"

Warren nodded, brain in a haze.

nature (Rebirth)—

"And how long will it take the developers to fix the alleged defect and why can't you replace Scotty in the meanwhile?"

"It's unknown how long it will take them. Anywhere from several months to several years. And SCOT is currently the only one of its kind. It is, technically, a prototype that was never meant to have access to any systems but Guetry's. We'd already excused some of its behavior since it helped him do his job more effectively."

Thrive tapped a fingertip on the surface of the desk. "...And are you willing to deny to the entire galaxy that you didn't commission an AI to secretly monitor and subdue Guetry by manipulating the urges of addiction? To keep Guetry on a short leash in case he decided to go rogue?"

There was a pause. "That's a serious accusation, Orthrive'poliea."

Thrive turned his chair to face the window and sighed, world-weary. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, Delegate, I've had to deal with skewed logic of this nature my entire life."

"I'm sure that's a compliment," DeCosta said somewhat sarcastically. "The fact of the matter is, there is nothing you can do or say that will change our minds. The law is the law, and that's the end of the discussion."

people (Eternal)—

"There are plenty of uncharted planets in the Milky Way," Sussa said. "Several of which I'm sure could house human life. Tournaltis is a perfect example of this."

She gestured to Thrive, who Warren realized kept strangely silent throughout the entire meeting thus far, especially so when almost directly addressed. He kept a focused eye on the conversation.

"We wanted to respect the boundaries of the other Milky Way residents," Roundtree said. "The chance to expand wasn't just for our benefit, but for all of your people as well."

Mydhassa frowned. "What about the residents of Andromeda? Do they get a say?"

DeCosta's hands dropped delicately onto her lap. "We were going to send someone in to attempt to reach a diplomatic agreement with the governing bodies of Andromeda." She looked at Thrive. "But we lost track of him for two hundred years."

Roundtree turned to him. "We apologize for the inhumanity of using you for our own purposes."

"Senator," Thrive said, unimpressed, "I have been used for others' gain since my birth. Your arrogance, while hardly surprising, makes no unique enough impact on me to insult or otherwise."

farmer garden (bit of a reach 😬) (Aurora)—

Thrive worried his lip with his teeth again. "Make note of this," he muttered before burying himself in the book again.

Warren kept himself busy with other types of educational material on the tablet, passing the time by reading about how to garden on a moon. He couldn't understand the precise science behind it, but the gist had been that they used electromagnetic pulses and chemical assistance to make the normally barren soil viable for plant life, and the silhou surprisingly went hard on their gardening. It seemed the dense foliage of the other port was an anomaly and they'd been studying it for many years.

He glanced up at Thrive again. He'd never seen him so concentrated, so diligently focused on any one thing. He wished he could be inside his head at that moment, to know how it was all being absorbed, to hear all the hundreds of thoughts fighting over each other as they were likely doing. Even with all the thinking he was doing, he was still the most stunning thing Warren had ever seen. He felt a little guilty that he didn't really take the time to realize that anymore.

Strong, intense, a ———, and he somehow loved Warren. Somehow, his heart belonged to him and he'd even said as much several times. How he'd never tire of it. And how he was so certain that he could never find a love like this elsewhere for the rest of eternity even if he spent time with every other soul in the universe.

possession (Rebirth)—

"Your terms, please," Thrive called to ———. "The sun is setting, so the sooner the better."

"A trade," ——— sneered. "I have something of yours that you want, and you have something I want. Something that, if under my possession, can easily end this war in victory for myself and knock Prince Hyret off of his precious throne. If it is given to me, I will release Delegate Mataxa unharmed."

"She's working against Hyret?" Warren mumbled.

"Name your price," Thrive said.

——— laughed. "You."

Warren frowned.

Thrive's hands fell to his sides and he regarded the window with a touch of amusement. "You think you can handle me, ———?"

"You are notorious for doing anything for the betterment of the galaxy and your loved ones. You are invaluable goods. If you do not join me, not only will I end the delegate's life, I will make sure your team does not make it off of Logoryt alive."

At those words, the guns on the ship's underbelly swiveled, pointing at the group behind Thrive.

He clasped his hands behind his back. "...And what is it you think you can accomplish with me in your possession?"

"You are powerful," she said. "Practically invincible. Word of your survival on the volcanic mountain Agansha and protecting Earth from the eliyi fleet has me convinced you could take on the entirety of Hyret's forces on your own."

#tag game #I was about to send them a lengthy message (respectful) begging them to add them back #my husband was like 'ok before you intimidate some poor corporate worker let me call the restaurant'#turns out they are still selling them they just not showing online that they are #lmao what have I become

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sweetpeasgirl · 5 years ago

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Treat You Better | Sweet Pea

Description: Based on the song “Treat You Better” by Shawn Mendes, Jughead and Y/n’s relationship is at it’s bittersweet end and Sweet Pea, her best friend, is there to defend her

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Warnings: Kinda angsty but not really

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

The White Wrym is not where you thought you would spend your Saturday night but Jughead had said that he needed to take care of a few things and you didn't want to be blown off again. You understand that he's busy, you really do. He's the son of the former Serpent leader; of course he's going to have a lot more on his plate. You just didn't think he'd push you off of it- the plate.

Sweet Pea had warned you about that. It was the latest topic of argument between you. For best friends, the two of you fight a lot. You know he's just trying to look out for you, that's been his role since the two of you were kids. He's in the grade above you, and was originally your older brother's friend, but they fell out a couple years ago. He never left you though.

He's always been the one watching your back. At first he just kept you out of harm's way, whether that be from grade school bullies or the men who lurk in alleyways when you're trying to walk home. Now, though, he has to watch out for boys who say they care about you but don't. He has to watch out for heartbreak.

That's where Jughead comes in. Sweet Pea is just being his overprotective self, like usual. Sure, you've had your fair share of walking out into the busy street with your head down, and he's had to pull you back quite a few times, but this is different. He can't save a heart that's supposed to break. Jughead does care about you, or at least he did when you first got together last year. Some things, however, just aren't meant to last forever.

Forever is a long time and time has a funny way of changing things.

"Juggie, it's your turn," your voice is quiet as you hand him the wooden pool cue, trying not to draw attention to yourself.

It's cold in the bar and you had been alerted so suddenly that date night was getting moved here that you didn't have time to grab a sweater. You can feel the stares burning into uncovered shoulders. It puts you on edge as Jughead accepts the cue from your shaky hands and takes his shot absentmindedly. Something's going on in his head, you can tell by the way he furrows his eyebrows and watches the people around him.

You, meanwhile, are trying hard not to look anywhere but the green felt of the pool table. There's commotion all around you. Shouts can be heard from the bar and the sound of smashing bottles that accompanies them. There's laughter coming from somewhere else but it doesn't sound friendly. Whatever it's about is cruel; it’s something that should not be made a joke of.

You're definitely way out of your comfort zone. Hell, you're way out of your un-comfort zone. You're just plain scared and, with the lack of conversation that Jughead is providing, the regret is bubbling quick in your chest. You almost wish he would just break up with you so you can cry and move on already.

"Jughead," a loud voice breaks the awkward silence around the crowded pool table, "there you are boy. We can finally discuss what you wanted to talk about now."

A tall, middle aged man with light brown hair and a weeks worth of beard growth pats your boyfriend on the back. Jughead shoots you an apologetic look as he passes the pool cue back to you once more. Your blood runs cold as he starts to walk in the opposite direction with the newcomer. He's seriously leaving you alone, in a room full of people who honestly aren't the safest characters, on what was supposed to be your night. Something happened to the boy you first knew and this just settled what you already thought. It’s over.

Your eyes blur with unshed tears at the hurt and fear circulating through your veins. He disappears from sight and the dark atmosphere gets hazier as you grip the side of the table to keep yourself steady. You can once again feel the stares burning into your back. It's like they were waiting for you to be left unattended. When you're with Jughead, the heir of the Serpent crown, you can't be touched. When you're with Sweet Pea, their deadly warrior, you can't be touched. When it's just you, though, anything goes.

You don't know what to do. It's only a matter of time before someone approaches you and when that happens you'll be in a situation that you probably won't be able to get yourself out of. That's the one thing your mother always told not to do; never put yourself into a situation that you can't get out of. Sweet Pea would not be happy.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing here?"

Case in point. You jump at the sound of his voice but spin around instantly and bury yourself into his chest nonetheless. The tears fall down your face before you can stop them but you really couldn't care less. The smell of leather and pine surrounds you and warmth finally fills your body. Apparently you're colder than you had originally thought.

The relief that fills you is unmeasurable and you cling to Sweet Pea tightly, "It was supposed to be our night but-” you hiccup, tugging on his jacket- “I didn't want to miss another date night-” another hiccup- “I didn't want to-” you rub your forehead against his chest, your voice now just a whisper- “he left."

Your thoughts come out scrambled and between ugly sobs but it's enough for Sweet Pea to gather the overall picture of what happened. After all, he has been doing this for a while. He tightens his arms around you, the anger radiating off his uncovered skin in heated waves.

"He left you? Here?" Sweet Pea is seething when he pulls back.

He lifts you to sit on the edge of the pool table, the game laying discarded behind you. The visual reminder only makes the tears come faster and the warmth leave your bones again. You start shivering but this time you can't steel yourself enough to stop, the realization dawning before you can lie to yourself again. You and Jughead are done. You have been for a long time now and everyone else saw it before you did.

"Pea, we're over," you can't raise your voice above a harsh whisper, covering your raw face with your hands to suffocate the onslaught of cries you can feel bubbling to the surface, "we're over now. You were right."

You close your eyes to avoid staring into Sweet Pea's murderous chocolate ones. All you feel now is the ice circling your veins.

"Baby, hey," a large jacket that smells too much like Sweet Pea to not belong to him is draped over your shoulders, "it's okay. We'll go home."

The anger seeps out of his voice and you peer up to see the concerned face of your best friend once more. He's looking at you in the same way he was the time fell out of Jughead's tree house. You had blacked out from the fall and woke up in the hospital with a broken leg. He was so scared that he didn't leave your side for a minute. But it's different now, you're not physically hurt, so he shouldn't look worried.

You let out a sorrowful breath and just nod your head, a deep weariness settling over your being. At least you're getting what you had wanted. A clean break.

"Y/n, can we talk?"

You hadn't noticed Jughead come back but now he stands a little behind Sweet Pea who is still in front of you. Sweet Pea instantly turns at the sound of his voice, the rage back and in full swing. You just lower your head, too tired to keep it up.

"Jones you're so lucky I'm not beating the crap out of you right now. I didn't think you were stupid enough to leave her here but I guess I was wrong! You're just lucky I happened to be here. And that she doesn't hate you." Sweet Pea spits his words at Jughead

"Look, man, can I just talk to my girlfriend?" Jughead's voice is monotone, both of you knowing he's just calling you his so that he can officially end it once and for all.

It's for the best and you both know it. His phrasing, however, doesn't go over well with Sweet Pea.

"Are you serious right now? Or is this a sick joke? You forfeit that title when you left her as free game for anyone in this place,” Sweet Pea steps towards him and you hold your breath, knowing quite well who would win the fight if one were to ensue. “You're dating the most beautiful girl in this shitty town and you treat her like she doesn't even matter! If it was me she wouldn't be crying on a damn table, she would know damn well just how much I love her!"

Your head snaps up at his words, your breath hitching in your throat. The commotion of the bar is drowned out around you and all you can see is Sweet Pea's back. He can't really love you, can he? He's just making a point, being the best friend he always has been. The logic makes sense to you but you can feel your heart breaking for the second time tonight because of it.

You place a hand on Sweet Pea's shoulder, drawing his attention back to you, "it's okay Pea, I should talk to him at least."

He doesn't look happy but he nods, helping you off the table and moving to the side to let you pass. You look at Jughead and toss him a melancholy smile. It's wrapped with bittersweet memories from all your late night's at Pop's and early mornings coming back from the drive-in. Jughead and you had some pretty good times despite your inevitable end. Maybe, just maybe, though, you can make it a peaceful end.

"Y/n I do love you," Jughead takes his beanie off and runs his hand through his already messy, raven locks, "but not like I did before. Somewhere between moving here and, well, taking on the role of my dad I let us fall apart. I'm sorry."

"It's okay Juggie. I probably wasn't putting as much effort in as I could have," he scoffs at that, a guilty smirk on his face.

You both know that you gave this relationship your all. But, standing here now with Sweet Pea's eyes searing into your back, it's pretty clear that your heart was forming attachments with another person. Which means that sooner or later you and Jughead would have fallen apart anyway. Sometimes these kinds of things are no one's fault. It's a mutual heartbreak and when it needs to happen, it needs to happen.

"You know, y/n, I don't feel too bad about losing you to him."

You furrow your brows at his comment, your voice cracking slightly when you speak, "what do you mean? He was just saying all that stuff. Pea doesn't love me."

Jughead rolls his eyes and glances quickly at Sweet Pea before walking closer to you. You can tell he doesn't want him to hear what he's about to say.

"Y/n that boy is in over his head. It's a feeling I can relate very much to but listen to me," his eyes capture yours in a serious stare, "he's going to treat you better than I ever could. He's not going to leave you in dangerous situations or bail on plans. Can't you see he'd take a bullet for you?"

Your heart races at his words and you spare a glance at Sweet Pea. He's already looking at you, the worry back in his mesmerizing eyes. He raises an eyebrow at you, pulling a smile to your lips. Maybe Jughead is right. Maybe you love Sweet Pea as more than a best friend.

Looking at him now, his tanned skin glowing under the dim lights and his dark brown hair pushed behind his ears, there's no doubt in your mind that you're attracted to him. Sweet Pea has always looked handsome in your eyes, even after a fight with purple bruises staining his face. You think back to all the times he's been there when you needed him most. That boy drops whatever he's doing when you call; no matter if you're just bored or looking for someone to nap next to he’s there next to you. You've always felt at home when you're with him. Hell, you have a drawer in his room devoted to your clothes.

Sweet Pea loves you and you're pretty damn sure that you love him too.

Turning back to Jughead, you nod your head, "I'd take one for him too."

"Good. I think I'll leave now. Thanks for everything, y/n," Jughead pulls you into one last hug before heading out the door.

You pull Sweet Pea's jacket tighter around you as you walk back towards him. He gathers you once more into his chest and you let the last of your tears fall. There will never be a time when parting isn't such sweet sorrow. It's the beginning of something new but also the end of something that you once thrived on. However, wrapped completely in Sweet Pea's scent, you've never felt like you belonged somewhere so much.

"Ready to go home baby?"

"Yeah Pea. Let's go home."

#Sweet Pea #sweet pea riverdale #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea imagine #riverdale #riverdale imagine #jughead jones #riverdale series #reader insert

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jubilexe · 5 years ago

Text

Retail Therapy - Luke Patterson

Julie and the Phantoms

Request?: Nope.

Word Count: 4.8K+

Summary: Alive!Luke x Alive!Reader/ Alive!JATP x Reader. After a fight with your parents, you go out for a little retail therapy and meet a certain Rockstar. I think I will prolly do a part 2 or more let me know if you want one, btw this is not proofread or edited. Luke sings to you in this chapter and he sings ‘Can’t take my eyes off you’ by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons, so you can listen to that if you want.

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any.

“Julie please, my parents and I just got into another huge fight about my art and I need moral support.”

“But my dad wants me to watch Carlos and I can’t bail again.”

“Please just get here! I need you, Jules,” Y/N radiated distress and it was clear to all the people in the Claire’s she was currently in.

“Fine, I can call my tía. I’ll be there in an hour, but you owe me an ice cream cone!” Julie said laughing, Julie had been Y/N’s best friend since they met in the seventh grade when they both accidentally wore the same shirt three days in a row and became friends, they often would laugh about it. Y/N told her where to meet and thanked her friend quickly hanging up the phone. She heaved all her shopping bags up and looked around.

“Why am I even in this store?!” She hmphed loudly drawing the attention of the other shoppers once again. She marched out of the store towards the food court where she was meeting Julie. A new store caught her eye and she stopped for a minute debating if she had enough room for more bags. She quickly made her mind up deciding that she could make room, after all, she had her dad’s Platinum Amex and she was not going to waste this opportunity. Y/N walked quickly to the entrance of the quaint book store. She turned into the book store slamming into something, it was just her luck to run into a wall today and I mean why not seeing as the rest of her life was falling to pieces around her. She fell onto her back looking at the ceiling her bags scattered around her.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” A boy came into her sight. He had shaggy brown hair and was wearing a light yellow apron with a name tag. Guess she didn’t run into a wall after all, but again that was just her luck. Her eyes began to water as all the emotion crashed upon her like a tsunami. She gritted her teeth pulling herself together.

“I’m fine,” Y/N looked at his name tag. “Luke.”

“Woah how’d you know my name?” Luke stepped back and Y/N let out a breath of laughter.

“Nametag,” She said as the tears began to pool in her eyes.

“What? Oh my god, why are you crying?” Luke looked at her panicked, he didn’t do the best around crying girls. She held up a thumbs up.

“I said I’m- I’m,” She coughed lightly trying her best to get out the words.

“Here let me help you up,” Luke stuck out his hand to her nervously. She grabbed it and using her other hand tried to wipe the onslaught of tears off her face. Luke kept a hold of her hand pulling her to the back section of the store.

“Um you can stay back here as long as you’d like,” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and accidentally running into the desk behind him knocking a book off the desk he looked at it quickly.

“Here you can read this maybe it’ll make you feel better,” he picked the book up shoving the book into her arms. He ran out of the room quickly.

“Oh? I- Thank you!” Y/N called out into the store. Luke ran back into the room his arms heaving all the girl’s bags.

“How were you carrying this much?” He wheezed dropping the bags by her. She laughed wiping more tears away and smearing her mascara. Luke backed up again.

“I have to get back to work but just leave when you want and if you need anything I’ll be up at the front counter,” he nodded at the girl giving her a thumbs up, and walked out again. She sat at the back of the store composing herself. She picked up the book looking at the title. It was ‘The Outsiders’ and a pretty beaten up copy at that the book was filled up with loose pages, she flipped through it and set it down on the table next to her. She turned to grab her bags. She didn’t notice but the book slipped off the table into one of her bags. She also didn’t notice her journal/ sketchbook drop from her purse as she grabbed everything trying to flee as quickly as she could. She collected the rest going out into the main store and heading to the counter.

“Thanks again for the help,” She leaned on the counter gazing at the boy in front of her.

“No problem, um you can come back anytime, that is if you want to of course no pressure,” Luke stumbled over his words.

“Of course, yeah,” She nodded, but she was not going to come back, not after that humiliating experience. He smiled dopily at her.

“Can’t wait,” he leaned on the counter as well.

“Um yeah,” she felt a twinge of guilt at the totally sweet look he was giving her. Her phone chimed loudly and she pulled it out.

“That would be my cue to leave,” She turned quickly dashing out of the store making her great escape.

“Bye then,” he waved confused. Y/N pulled out her phone checking the text.

‘Where are you? I got here 10 minutes ago.’ - From Julie. Y/N sighed speeding up her strides to get to the food court quicker. She spied Julie sitting at a table in the middle of the court. She made her way through the throng of people and sat down at the table setting her bags down under it.

“What happened?” Julie asked eyeing the girl.

“I had a bit of a break down in a store, but a nice employee helped me out so I’m good,” Y/N laughed quickly.

“Are you okay, your eyes are really puffy. Do you need eye drops?” Julie stuck her hand in her purse and Y/N stopped her laughing again.

“I don’t need anything I’m good I promise, I just want to spend time with my best friend,” Y/N laid her hands down on the table in front of her. Julie rested her hands on top of the girls.

“If it’s any consolation I am supportive of your art,” Julie smiled sweetly. Y/N’s heart melted at the girl’s words, it did mean a lot to her.

“Thanks, Julie, now if you could convince my parents to do the same then that would be a dream come true,” a weak smile crept its way onto Y/N’s face. Julie squeezed her hand.

“How about we go get that ice cream and we can talk a bit and walk around, I think we both need it,” Julie stood up interlocking her hand with Y/N’s and pulling her towards the creamy treat.

It’d been a few weeks since the mall incident and things were not getting any easier for Y/N. Fights seemed to be on the daily now and the yelling was beginning to drive the girl insane. So she spent as little time as possible at her house only going over to sleep and do school work, other than that she was at the park painting or reading through the book that had slipped into her bag. She had planned on returning it to the booking clerk after she had read it, but now it had been three weeks and she had yet to. She would have hung out with Julie, but she was busy with her new band and nonstop rehearsals, they were set to debut at a spirit rally at school next week and they needed to be perfect. She still hadn’t met the band, but she had permission from Julie to crash anytime she wanted and she was planning on taking full advantage of this pass soon.

Her favorite pass time though was reading the book though so she had kept it, she loved to just read and look at the little notes and doodles in the margins, it really gave her a view of what was going on in Luke’s head. Although sometimes it was hard to decipher the hieroglyphics that was Luke’s handwriting.

She had discovered that the writings of S.E. Hinton were not the only thing hidden away in the eggshell-colored pages, there were journal entries and songs. She didn’t feel comfortable reading through the entries but she sure did love reading the works of musical genius, Luke’s, songs. They were so well written and heartfelt it helped her understand this boy that she barely knew, this boy so full of passion, feeling, emotions, and kindness.

And that’s where she was now reading a song of loss and regret under the cloudy sky. One that she related to personally, it reminded her of her parents and that even if she was having a hard time with them she would always love them even if they weren’t in the picture.

“If you could only know I never let you go,” she hummed along to the words, and sure she didn’t know the tune the words were initially meant for but she could sure try and make her own melody. But her phone interrupted her startling her out of her own little world within the words. She hurriedly wiped at her tear-stained cheeks and took the device out. It was 4:30, Julie and the Phantoms were at rehearsals right now and this was the perfect opportunity to infiltrate the jam session, so Y/N hopped on her bike and sped towards the Molina residence.

Y/N stopped on the cobblestone path leading to the studio loft and set her bike against the stone wall. She could already hear the music drifting from the open window of the studio. She crept to the porcelain white door and stood on her tiptoes looking through the long windows. Y/N could see Julie on the piano and three boys surrounding her. There was a tall lanky one wearing a pink shirt and had a fanny pack slung across his chest, he had blond hair and was on the drum, there was a raven-haired one clad in flannel and leather he was on bass guitar and another one that wasn’t facing Y/N, from what she could see he was a brunet and was wearing jeans and a blue sleeveless hoodie, and he was on a guitar she thought. Julie looked up and jumped a little but she just laughed it off stopping the music and gesturing for Y/N to come inside. Just as Y/N was about to move away from the door the brunet turned around her her heart stopped she could hear all the blood rushing and it was deafening.

It was Luke from the bookstore. Y/N felt herself pale and she quickly hid from view she slid down to sit against the door and the pavement, her eyes darted around looking for a place to hide, any place at all. But before she could move the door gave way and she fell onto her back. Julie had opened the door at the whole band formed a circle around the starfishes girl. Luke broke out into a fit of giggles.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” he managed to get out through the laughter. Y/N deadpanned and scoffed.

“Tell me about it,” she sighed. Luke came to a stop and offered her a hand. She did not grab the hand though instead opting to roll onto her stomach and push herself up. Luke lowered his hand awkwardly and Alex snickered.

“You two know each other?” Julie asked looking between the pair.

“Kind of,” Y/N shrugged looking at the dopey grinned boy. “We met at the mall a few weeks ago, you remember Julie we had an ice cream cone that day.

Julie nodded and looked at Luke.

“Oh, so this is the guy you stole a book from!” Julie laughed at the panicked face you made. Luke sent Y/N a confused look.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry I’ve been meaning to return it,” Y/N dug through her backpack and pulled out the book victorious. She handed the book to Luke quickly and added a quick explanation and a sorry.

“Hey it’s okay, you kind of left something too, I had been wondering where it had disappeared to though,” he laughed and snatched Y/N’s journal from his bag handing it to her. Throughout their exchange Julie, Alex, and Reggie just stood awkwardly shuffling their feet.

“Oh! I thought my dad took this... Oh My god wait please tell me you didn’t look,” Y/N paled again. Luke and Y/N stared at each other for a minute silently.

“Um only a little,” Luke looked down to the ground guiltily. Julie coughed and clasped her hands together.

“Why don’t we play something for Y/N while she’s here!” She said sitting down at the piano. The rest of the boys picked up their instruments, Alex sitting at the drums, Reggie standing with his bass next to Alex and the door, and Luke standing next to the piano and the couch. Y/N took a seat on the couch farthest away from Luke, she was feeling a bit awkward.

“So this is Bright,” Julie said to Y/N as well as making the boys aware of what they’d be playing for her. Julie played the first notes on the piano taking a breath and smiling, she was really in her element right now and it showed.

“Sometimes I think I’m falling down. I wanna cry, I’m calling out,” Julie sang out hitting each note with perfection. Y/N got goosebumps on her arms while listening to Julie’s voice, it was really breathtaking.

“For one more try, to feel alive.” The boys still hadn’t played their instruments and Y/N looked at each of them confused. Luke sent her a wink and threw his guitar over his shoulder with finesse. Y/N smiled brightly and gave him thumbs up. She reached into her bag pulling out a paper and a pen. She wrote a 9.5

“What?! I deserve a 10,” Luke frowned strumming a note as Julie sang, “Life is a risk but I will take it, close my eyes, and jump.”

“It’s because you’re a show-off,” Y/N held out the f sound. Luke laughed and threw his head back.

“I’ll you show you what showing off really looks like,” he grinned at her. Just ask he said that Julie sang, “Come on let’s run!”

And that's when the boys hopped into action the music hitting Y/N like a wave. Luke played the guitar his hands moving effortlessly on the frets, he had so much passion in his eyes and Y/N couldn’t tear hers away. Luke looked at her holding her gaze intently.

“Life is a risk but we will take it, close my eyes and jump,” Luke’s voice came out gravely and husky, giving Y/N goosebumps once again. Reggie sang along with him dancing around the middle of the loft. Y/N felt like the breath was knocked out of her, the band was, to put it simply, dazzling. She had so many thoughts for them but she knew she it’d be impossible to tell them how amazing they were in words. Luke walked closer to Y/N kneeling in front of her while still playing his instrument.

“Come on let’s run!” Luke sang to her, the rest of the band along with him. He hit the high note with ease and Y/N breathed in deeply. Luke continued to sing, but he pulled her up quickly and they danced together, it was a mess of rocking together and lots of spinning on Y/N’s part while Luke jumped up and down still having to play. Reggie came in and joined them, and he and Alex shared a look. They all jumped around in a circle and Y/N jumped onto the couch singing along with the chorus.

“Shine together bright forever!” Y/N picked up her water bottle using it as a mic. Luke couldn’t keep his eyes off her, she was electric.

“In times that I doubted myself, I feel like I needed some help,” Luke sang and the only instrument playing was coming from the piano. Luke walked up to the couch below Y/N and they stared at each other.

“Stuck in my head, with nothing left,” Luke sang to her. Julie shot Y/N a look telling her to sing with him.

“And when I feel lost and alone, I know that I can make it home,” Y/N sang nervously fearing she’d mess up the words, but Luke just smiled at her and Y/N instantly felt at ease. Y/N looked away from Luke for a minute nodding at Julie and they sang together.

“Fight through the dark, and find the spark!!” Julie raising her voice and held out the note. Luke still couldn’t pull his gaze away and he lifted Y/N off the couch spinning her and making her squeal, she was set on the ground and she started dancing again.

“We will fight to shine together! Bright forever!” They all sang out and the song ended. Y/N laughed with glee and jumped up and down.

“You guys are amazing!” She smiled at Alex and hit Reggie’s shoulder, feeling at home with the guys already, even if they only met a few minutes ago.

“I’m gonna run inside the house and grab some snacks and we can hang out!” Luke ran to the door and exited. Y/N laughed, he didn’t even ask if she was free, she was but still. She enveloped Julie in a hug and they laughed together. Y/N’s phone rang in her pocket and she pulled it out and looked at the screen, her mom was calling. A deep frown set into her face and she clutched the phone.

“I’m gonna take this,” She said and made her way out sitting against the stone wall and taking a deep breath trying to prepare herself. She hit the answer button and held the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” She whispered.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you need to get home right now, you have been gone long enough. Get over yourself, you will not become an artist and you will do what we say we are your parents,” Y/N’s mom and dad said, not even letting Y/N get a word in. She breathed in deeply and shut her eyes tight willing herself not to cry.

“Mom, Dad, I’m not coming home,” Y/N got out her voice faltering. Her dad scoffed.

“Don’t be ridiculous you will come home immediately,” Her mom sighed. Y/N shook her head even though her parents couldn’t see.

“I’m not coming home not again and not ever, not until you support me,” she almost lost herself there but she shut her eyes again keeping the tears at bay, she wouldn’t cry for something she needed to do.

“I’m gonna be staying somewhere else from now on, I’ve already got all the stuff that I need and you won’t see me again until I prove you wrong.”

“People will like my art and even if they don’t I like my art and it’s what I’m passionate about and I won’t stop, I won’t give up, I can’t,” Y/N hung up the phone not even giving them a chance to respond, she clicked into her settings turning off her location and stuck her phone next to her. She brought her knees to her chest and she breathed deeply, she heard someone taking a seat next to her, she didn’t look assuming it was Julie.

“I know what it’s like,” Luke laid his head against the wall and put his hands at his sides. Y/N’s head shoots towards Luke.

“It’s you! I thought you were Julie,” Y/N said. Luke started to get up.

“I’m so sorry I’ll go,” he stood up all the way. Y/N grabbed his hand and pull him back down they were now sitting shoulder to shoulder and looking at each other. Y/N breathed in deeply again the tears finally going away.

“Stay.”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop drop, by the way,” Luke laid his hand on top of her hesitantly. She laughed shaking her head.

“It’s okay, can you tell me about it?” She asked him referring to what he said earlier. He nodded slowly trying to articulate what he was thinking.

“Okay, but bear with me I’m gonna start at the beginning,” he stated and Y/N intertwined their finger hoping to make him more comfortable.

“My mom and dad bought me my first guitar when I was about 8,” he started squeezing her hand.

“When you said beginning I didn’t think it’d be beginning, beginning,” she laughed. He sent her an annoyed look and she giggled laying her head on his shoulder.

“They didn’t get me into lessons but my neighbor ended up teaching me, I knew immediately that music was what I wanted to do and my parents didn’t quite feel the same but they let me continue playing regardless, but then I started a band called Sunset Curve when I was fifteen, that’s when they tried to take my guitar away,” he deflated slightly and Y/N nestled into him a bit more.

“Of course I hid it where we were practicing and didn’t tell them where, but the fights got so bad that I ran away, on Christmas Eve.”

“Now I’m staying here, but I get how it feels to not be supported by the ones who matter most, so if you need someone who knows what you’re going through you can come to me if you want,” he said facing her as she took her head off his shoulder. They were centimeters apart at this point, they were practically breathing in each other’s air.

“You’re staying at Julie’s?” She asked their noses almost touching.

“Yeah in the loft with Alex, he’s not living at home either, his parents weren’t cool after he came out to them,” he said sadly his eyes fluttering shut. She studied his face, he had freckles that you could only see close up, and there was a small scar just on the bridge of his nose.

“It’s cool that you guys have each other,” Y/N interlocked both their hands.

“You could have us too,” he whispered. “If you want us.”

“I’d really like that I think,” she moved in closer, her lips ghosting over his as he whispered, “I’m glad you want me, us.” They knew each other better than anyone, sure they hadn’t been together long but they’d seen into each other's world through music and writing and art, they saw the most intimate parts of each other. A crash from the garage and Alex fell through the crack in the door and he shot up looking like a deer in headlights. Luke and Y/N jumped away from each other and Y/N hit her bike knocking it over and the contents of her other bag on it spilled out, a mess of clothes and tampons came out and Luke looked horrified. His eyes fell upon a single bra and he stumbled back covering his eyes. Alex ran back into the studio slamming the door behind him. Y/N quickly scooped up her stuff putting it back into her bag making sure to zip it up this time. Luke still was on the ground covering his eyes.

“You can look now,” Y/N let out an airy laugh. Luke shook his head.

“I’m too embarrassed,” he sat up still covering his eyes. Y/N scooted over to him so that she was sitting in front of him on her knees, she brought her hands up to his slowly moving them away. She and Luke looking into one another’s eyes for the millionth time that night. She slowly tore her gaze away and stood up.

“I should probably go find a hotel to stay at,” she whispered picking up her bike. Luke jumped up grabbing her wrist.

“You can stay here! I mean if it’s okay with Julie, we’ll have to ask,” he said holding onto her hands and grinning at her.

“It’s okay with me!” They heard Julie’s voice from inside the studio. Y/N laughed pulling Luke into a tender hug, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her hips. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and whispered, “Thank you for everything Luke.”

“You’re welcome,” he kissed the top of her head lightly pulling her in tighter. Drops of rain began to dribble into them until it was a downpour. Luke tried to pull her inside but Y/N pulled him back and they spun together in the rain. Y/N let out a joyful and bubbly laugh that had Luke laughing along with her.

“Sing to me music man,” Y/N spun Luke around and dipped him. He grinned at her and began to sing.

“You’re just too good to be true,” they spun together again.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you, you’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much,” Luke spun Y/N in and they rocked together. Y/N slid her arms up around Luke’s shoulders and they smiled at each other.

“At long last has arrived and I thank God I’m alive,” he smiled to himself at the line. Y/N spun away and jumped in the rain and a puddle of water exploded under her baby blue converse.

“You’re just too good to be true, Can’t take my eyes off of you,” and the lyrics were true for Luke he could pull his gaze from the magnetic girl in front of him. She held out her hand and Luke grasped it as she spun in her back hitting Luke’s chest. Luke sang more to her and he was almost to the chorus now.

“There are no words left to speak. But if you feel what I feel, please let me know that it’s real.”

“You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you,” Luke hummed and Y/N got ready to sing the chorus with him.

“I love you, baby!” They both sang out at the top of their lungs.

“And if it’s quite alright, I need you baby! To warm a lonely night!” Y/N sang out Luke practically had heart eyes. This wasn’t like before in the studio during Bright, Y/N wasn’t hesitant at all she had the aura of a thousand burning stars and the confidence to show it.

“I love you, baby! Trust in me when I sayyy!” Y/N sang again and Luke continued this time.

“Oh, pretty baby! Don’t bring me down I pray,” Luke spun down onto his knees and held his hands out to Y/N.

“Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay! And let me love you, baby!” Luke sang pulling Y/N in they were once again close, chest to chest the rain streaming down their faces and their foreheads pressed together.

“Let me love you,” Luke sang in a whisper. Y/N hooked her arms around his neck and their lips were close, but not close enough to connect.

“You’re just too good to be true...” He closed in, their lips connecting for half a second but once again they were interrupted by a car beeping from in front of the house. Y/N pulled away quickly and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“That’s probably Julie’s dad with the pizza,” Luke said sadly knocking on the white door for the rest of the teens to come out.

“That was quite the show you two put on,” Reggie said as they came out. Y/N blushed which is something she didn’t normally didn't do so you knew she was very embarrassed.

“Shut up, dude,” Luke punched Reggie’s shoulder. They all began walking to the house, the rest of the teens holding umbrellas but Luke and Y/N were still exposed to the weather. They lagged behind a bit and Y/N took Luke’s hand into hers. They got to the door and they were the only ones out there. The rain pitter-pattered against the covering of the porch. Y/N and Luke faced each other and Y/N smiled at him.

“Thanks again for everything, Luke.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Luke stepped up to her.

“How did you know that was my favorite song?” She grinned at him.

“I have my ways, star,” he cooed and Y/N smiled at the nickname. She stood on her toes and pecked him on the cheek and she dashed inside. Luke stood there alone and touched his cheek softly and grinned, she’d be the death of him, but he was ready to do anything for her. He was falling, and falling hard for that matter.

Thank you for reading and let me know if you want a part two, and feel free to enter my taglist link in bio!

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years ago

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How would Todoroki and Bakugou react to you never having their favorite foods?

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki and Todoroki Shouto

Genre: Crack/fluff

Word count: 654

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: I made cold soba with the dipping sauce for my dinner tonight and sent a video of me eating it to my little cousin and my uni friend who watches anime. And they were both like “Shouto better wife you up asap.” I have the best friends and family :’) And then my cousin was like “I wouldn’t be able to take Bakugou’s spicy food craze” and I did a thing where I became a crackhead version of Bakugou to respond to her. And so this headcanon was born! I was gonna do Midoriya also, but he’s not as meme/crackhead about his favorite food.

Bakugo Katsuki

-you better be ready for the onslaught when you tell Katsuki that you can’t take’have never had spicy food before

-it would be during lunch one day and he would ask if you wanted a bite of his homemade spicy mapo tofu

-“no thanks babe, i can’t do spicy food”

-oh lord, he would freeze, hand in midair, stare you down like you just told him you killed your parents, before going off

-“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ‘CAN’T DO SPICY FOOD’??!!”

-and you would feebly explain to him why you’ve never had it or you can’t take it while he stares you down with a visible vein popping in his forehead

-and from that day on, you should prepare your ass and throat because Katsuki Bakugou is prepping you for your future together

-since that day, Katsuki would prepare bento lunches for you every day, starting in mild spice and slowly increasing in spice

-“if we’re getting married in the future, you’re gonna have to learn to eat spicy food babe, I ain’t marrying someone without taste!”

-ideally, you find yourself slowly getting used to the spice

-and since Katsuki’s a good chef, he’s able to use spice to enhance the flavor, not just for food to be spicy for the sake of being spicy

-besides, how endearing would be that Katsuki presents you with a bento made by him with all his love in it? who would pass that up??

-you’d try teasing him about it at first

-“you must really love me to be feeding me like this every day”

-“shut up dumbass! you just need to develop taste, that’s all!”

-because of course Katsuki’s a lovable tsundere who does really love you

-and even if you got used to eating spicy food, he wouldn’t want to stop feeding you so endearingly

Todoroki Shoto

-it would be a random day, you’d be watching Shoto happily eating his cold soba as he’s done for the past 357 days

-and you’d casually ask, “Shouto, why do you love soba so much? what does it even taste like?”

-he’d finish slurping and chewing his noodles calmly before turning to you blankly

-“you’ve never had this before, love?”

-he may sound like he doesn’t care and it’s a casual question and everything’s fine

-but one look into his eyes and you’ll see he looks like you’ve offended him

-later that day, you’d be walking home from school and he would gently take your wrist when you’re about to part

-“come have dinner with me tonight, love,” he’d offer sweetly, “you can properly try soba for yourself”

-“Shoto, didn’t you just have soba for lunch?”

-“yes, i did”

-you also found out that Shouto is willing to eat soba breakfast, lunch, dinner, midnight snack, midday snack, anytime, anywhere

-on the way home he would ask what your favorite tempura is and call Fuyumi to prepare it for you

-it would be the first time you’ve been to the Todoroki household and you were nervous

-but because it was just you, Shoto, and Fuyumi, it was a very casual thing

-you’d apologize profusely for barging in so suddenly, but Shouto’s sister would shrug it off and gush about how happy she is that Shoto brought home a friend yeah we’re just friends

-after you take your first bite the way you’ve seen Shoto do it countless times, he would look over at you expectantly, touching his hand to your arm or leg as he asks how it tastes

-you’d smile at him and say it tastes great, the slight smokiness of the dipping sauce mixing with the noodles and the flaky tempura

-cue the softest, satisfied smile from Shoto, “i’m glad”

-when you two are alone while Fuyumi’s clearing the table, he’ll wrap his arms around you and press a kiss to your temple

-“both of my loves like each other now, isn’t that great?”

#bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #bakugou headcanons #todoroki headcanons #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #fluff #crack #gender neutral reader #todoroki imagine #bakugou imagine #mha todoroki #mha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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goingmorry · 4 years ago

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The Art of Domesticity [Trafalgar Law x Fem! Reader]

Synopsis: On a whim, Law decides to indulge you with a hot bath. Feeling lethargic despite your nap, you are more than delighted to take him up on his offer.

Tags: domestic fluff, sexually suggestive themes, male and female nudity, established relationship

Word Count: 2,161

In the depths of the Grand Line, deadly sea creatures swim idly by, patiently waiting for the next unsuspecting shipwrecked pirate to serve as their next meal.

Not long after, an unknown object of immeasurable speed barrels across the ocean floor, whirring past the mess of Sea Kings. Intent on chomping down on the foreign entity, the creatures join together in pursuit.

A yellow submarine, adorned with a Jolly Roger resembling a smiley face and inscribed with the words "DEATH," shakes beneath the water pressure.

The Polar Tang, home to the notorious Heart Pirates, aggressively reverberates in response to the Sea Kings' pursuit, mimicking the chaos inside the ship.

Meanwhile, in the control room, Captain Trafalgar Law stands at attention, face impassive as he calmly assesses the situation. In contrast to the rest of the crew's panicked behavior, Law had complete confidence in his crew's ability to make it out of this predicament unharmed. Right on cue, Law watches as his navigator, Vice-Captain Bepo, expertly maneuvers the ship away from dubious underwater beasts and excess debris. Under Bepo's supervision, Shachi and Penguin carefully operate the numerous controls to keep the sub afloat. In the engine room, Ikkaku and Jean Bart attend to the ship's generators, air compressors, and fuel pumps, ensuring their pristine condition during the onslaught.

After weeks of being submerged, the Polar Tang steadily heads to the surface. And with every second that passes, the distance between the pirates and the monsters increases until the vessel can no longer be seen by their pursuers. Sure enough, having lost sight of their target, it became apparent to the Sea Kings that they were no match for the submarine's speed. Where the ship once was, only faint bubble traces remain.

Unbeknownst to the pirate crew, loud rumbling sounds vibrate across the sea bed, the Sea Kings' roars echoing across the deep oceans, scaring away small fishes that dare to come close.

"We've lost sight of them, Captain," Bepo exclaims, swiveling his chair in Law's direction.

"So it seems," Law says, grabbing the nearby Den Den Mushi to announce their successful escape to the entire crew.

Almost immediately, Penguin and Shachi cheer in conjunction with the rest of the crew's boisterous laughter. To celebrate their victory, the Polar Tang resurfaces, providing an opportunity for the crew to receive some much-needed sunlight.

The turbulent atmosphere moments ago can no longer be found, replaced by a serene calmness. In celebration, the Heart Pirates gather in the upper deck, engaging themselves in various recreational activities. The perfect time to disappear for a bit, Law thinks.

Voicing these thoughts, Law directly addresses Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. "I'll be in my room."

Shachi nudges Penguin, suggestively wiggling their eyebrows at each other. Bepo curiously looks at the duo, sneaking glances at his captain, while Law scowls at their childishness.

"Don't worry, Captain! We'll make sure no one bothers you two!" Penguin blurts out, earning a swift elbow to his ribs.

"You idiot! Be more discreet next time!" Shachi angrily whispers in Penguin's ear, looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation, before continuing, "They're still in the honeymoon phase."

"More like hornymoon phase," Penguin huffs, causing both of them to break out in uncontrollable giggles. Bepo lets out an innocent smile.

Choosing not to respond since nothing he could say could convince Shachi and Penguin otherwise, Law hurries to his quarters, leaving the two to their incessant bickering.

- - - - - - - - - -

Standing in front of his bedroom, Law raises his hand to give two light raps to the door. He frowns at the lack of response, turning the door handle to reveal your upper body sprawled on his desk. He pauses for a moment before walking over to your slumped form. Upon closer inspection, you were sleeping soundlessly, seemingly unaware of earlier's events. Your head was nestled atop your forearms, an expression of serenity overcoming your features. Sheets of paper and various writing instruments were strewn across the corner of the desk, haphazardly pushed aside to accommodate your slumbering figure.

Law lifts his tattooed hand, gently brushing the stray hair that had fallen on your face. He runs his fingers across your unruly hair, noticing several tangled knots that had formed. Despite your less-than-ideal appearance, however, you never looked more beautiful in his eyes.

Deciding to let you sleep for a moment longer, Law saunters over to the bathroom, intent on running a bath for himself and you, should you choose to wake up in time to join him.

The sound of the water steadily splashing as it fills the tub is enough to rouse you.

Your eyes flutter open, turning around in search of the source of the noise before landing on the ajar door leading to the bathroom. A familiar lanky figure - sporting his signature leopard jeans - crouches over the tub. You couldn't see the top half of his body, but you were pretty sure he was monitoring the tub's water level. Not long after, you hear the sound of the faucet turning, and the water stops. Law stands up, walking over to lean against the doorframe. His golden eyes meet yours in amusement, mouth turning upward in a slight smirk.

"Mmm... Did something happen?" you mumble, voice raspy from your nap. You stretch your arms over your head, groaning in satisfaction before leaning back against the headrest of the chair. Despite the needed rest, you didn't feel as refreshed as you'd hoped. You felt so exhausted, your lips dry and your mouth parched.

Law must have noticed your tiredness in your appearance and voice. He reacts almost immediately, enveloping you in a familiar blue film. "Room," he says in that low tone you've come to love before a mug of water appears on the desk in front of you. You blink at him in surprise, humming appreciatively.

"I... Thanks," you say, gripping the mug between your hands before taking generous gulps. He can be so thoughtful when he wants to be, you think, unable to hide the smile gracing your lips as you do so.

He returns your hidden smile with a smile of his own. "Nothing important," he vaguely adds.

You look at him in confusion before realizing his was response was to your previous question. You nod in acknowledgment, deciding not to pry, before setting the now empty mug aside.

Law walks over to his side of the bed, pulling his cap off to set it down on the nightstand, keeping it relatively safe and away from tonight's activities.

"I ran you a bath. Get in it."

He glances at you before striding over to the bathroom. You cock an eyebrow at his retreating figure.

Before you have the chance to retort, he pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it over to the laundry basket. The sight of his muscled backside, inked with his jolly roger, makes the words die in your throat.

Before you can stop yourself, your tongue peeks out from the corner of your mouth to moisten your chapped lips. Your thirst was for an entirely different reason now.

"Don't keep me waiting." As if seemingly aware of his effect on you, Law disappears behind the door, the sound of clothes rustling reach your ears, no doubt the sound of the remainder of his clothes being shed. You can hear the amusement dripping in his honeyed tone, can picture the full-blown smirk evident on his face.

You reflexively gulp, feeling your body flush in response to his invitation. You've seen Law naked plenty of times by now, you reassure yourself. Have become well-acquainted with each other's bodies. Know firsthand how the heart tattoo inked on his chest ripples under your teasing touch as your hands trail down his chiseled abs. How the sweat glistens his toned skin and how his usually impassive face contorts in pleasure as he thrusts into-

You shake your head to keep the dirty thoughts at bay.

We're just having a nice relaxing bath together, you think, not entirely convincing yourself.

Following his lead, you stroll over to the laundry basket, stripping yourself of your clothing to join Law in the bath. Your head peeks out from the corner of the open bathroom door while the rest of your naked body remains in the bedroom, away from his prying eyes, your nervous gesture making it appear as though you were an innocent virgin.

Adorable, he thinks.

You look at each other expectantly, your eyes admiring his perfectly relaxed posture. His jet-black hair was in disarray, poking out in all directions, evidence of his combing through them in a careless fashion. His arms were stretched to the sides, slim fingers gripping the edges of the tub. His naked upper body was in full display; the dark ink of his tattoos was a stark contrast to the white bubbles that formed on the surface of the water, obscuring the lower half of his body.

You clear your throat, eyes returning to meet his golden ones that were alight with apparent amusement. "Sorry to intrude."

Law chuckles, the sound of his baritone voice echoing across the bathroom walls, only for your ears to hear. When you take a step forward and close the door behind you, his eyes drop to your naked form, shamelessly admiring your breasts and derrière.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself," you say indignantly, pausing right in front of the tub, his brazen admiration of your nudity quickly restoring your confidence.

"I am," he says without hesitation, golden hues darkening with desire at your bold gesture.

Leaning over the tub, you bring your face close to his, lips a breath away from touching. For a moment, you pull back to admire his rugged handsomeness, fingers ghosting over his goatee to his cheek before settling on the back of his neck. Lightly tugging his hair, you pull him in for a chaste kiss, your free hand grasping the edge of the tub for balance. Law has other plans, however, as he reciprocates by licking the bottom of your lips for permission to dive into the wet expanse of your mouth. You let him, of course, moaning at the feel of his demanding tongue as it fights against yours for control.

His hand snakes across the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging, mirroring your previous actions, while his other hand firmly kneads your breast. You groan against his mouth at the display of dominance in his rough handling of your body, loving how depraved he can be when aroused by you.

After what seems like an eternity, his hands gently encircle your waist, coaxing your body to join him into the warm pool of the tub. You oblige, breaking off the kiss to positioning yourself in between his legs, facing toward him. You sigh in contentment at the feel of the bubbled water and the warmth emanating from his bare body. Making an executive decision not to escalate further should both of you decide to forego the bath in favor of more risque activities, you avoid the softness of his lips. Instead, your mouth latches onto his neck, leaving trailing kisses to his jaw before stopping to rest your head at the crook of his shoulder. In response, Law sighs in defeat, hands rubbing reassuring circles against your back. The heated passion of your earlier kiss was replaced with soothing affection.

"Will you wash my hair?" you ask, voice slightly muffled against his skin.

Law looks down at your head nuzzled against him, eyes softening at your vulnerable state. "Honestly, you're hopeless without me," he says before nudging you over to turn around.

You do as your told, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position. His hands reach over the side of the tub for your shampoo, squeezing a sizable portion onto his hands, lathering it up into a foam. His hands weave into your hair, softly massaging the shampoo into your scalp in circular motions, careful to avoid your ears.

You can't help the wide grin that stretches across your face, thankful that your lover can't see your smile from the way you're positioned away from him. Trafalgar Law - a notoriously fearsome pirate, Captain of the Heart Pirates, and a former Warlord of the Sea - is the perfect picture of a doting boyfriend as he methodically applies shampoo onto his girlfriend's head, eyebrows furrowing in deep concentration.

"I love you," you say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

His hands still for a moment before resuming their ministrations. And though you've said it plenty of times before, he can't help the wild beating of his fragile heart in response to your sincere declaration.

While words fail him, actions don't. Law pulls you into a comforting hug, wrapping his strong arms around your shoulders as you lean back against his defined chest, blissful in each other's embrace.

- - - - - - - - - -

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed my writing! I'd love to hear feedback. 💖

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #op fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece writing #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #mywriting

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