#How he do that and what the hell did it cost him- well. Besides even more isolation

[askatriangleandastar]

The fact that Vlad's ghost form has a vampiric aesthetic despite that not being what he died in might be instead from the WAY he died.

It was painful, it was slow, and it was at that time considered a sickness. He was bed-ridden and, without someone who had seen this before, alone in the process of recognizing altered senses and of physical state with the loss of humanity.

It kinda sounds like some Dracula vampire stuff, honestly, and given his libraries it could've been something his mind recognized as sharing a pattern with.

It's just fascinating to consider why he might look that way in-universe, why he looks so much more like a monster in an old movie than the man he once was when that portal went wrong. That even when so much changed, his perspective on others and himself and the world changed, he still kept his name: Vlad.

[be-good-to-bugs]

AAAAH forever stress is going to kill me one day

[rashomonss]

Readjusting

context: just a few somewhat angsty headcanons I have for when MC and Solomon return to the present after everything, enjoy!!

warnings: this does contain nightbringer spoilers

the past changes people

MC will often become more hesitant to talk to or even engage with the brothers. Due to being treated as an attendant in the past they now are used to it, so whenever one of the brothers tries to engage with them they find it hard to sit still or listen to said brother for long periods of time without feeling out of place.

MC will often mix up the fact that they are an exchange student rather than an attendant. When Diavolo claims that he wants MC to feel comfortable as an exchange student MC will respond with something along the lines of how they don’t need much because they’re the brothers attendant. Which in return gets a few confusing stares from others.

MC still carries out some of their duties as an attendant unconsciously. Such as keeping track of the brother’s schedules, events, student council meetings, etc. The brothers don’t mind at first however what they do find unpleasant is the fact MC always follows behind them instead of right beside them like they used too. This doesn’t register until one of them says something to MC, which they in turn respond with “I always follow behind all seven of you”. Which makes their hearts sink.

Still focusing on the attendant duties, MC will still continue to carry out anything asked of them without much of a fight. Since they were so used to carrying out such elaborate things when watching over the brothers in the past they are now used to doing such tasks for them. Most of the time this will confuse most of the brothers because MC is usually more vocal with their opinion on something.

MC will unconsciously be a bit harsher and stricter on the brothers than they usually were. Since being their attendant MC had to keep each of them on a tight leash so they wouldn’t get into trouble. So now in the present if they were to start fighting MC would be the first to show up to scold them instead of Lucifer.

MC will just straight up be petty with Lucifer for a while. Due to the things he said while they were in the past they still haven’t completely forgiven him. So whenever Lucifer mentions his “family”, MC finds themselves saying some remark along the lines of “well that doesn’t include me” or “just the seven of you I know. I leave you all alone” is enough to confuse and hurt the hell out of him. MC knows that Lucifer does really care for them in this timeline, but they can’t help it. His words really did hurt them deeply for awhile.

On another topic of MC’s attitude, Diavolo soon realizes that they are much more formal with him. The cute nickname Dia was dropped and he was always referred to by a title now. When Diavolo questioned them about formality MC simply explained that the past Barbatos didn’t like them referring to Diavolo in such a manner.

MC is now more vigilant around Satan, Belphegor and Barbatos, each for different reasons.

Satan is one that worries MC the most because they became used to having to deal with his violent outbursts and destructive episodes. So when Satan gets angry in the present MC will step in front of him and the brothers separating them. Satan soon grows confused when MC prepares a spell to restrain him.

Belphegor doesn’t worry MC as much as the other two, but after he found out they were a human in the past and tried to kill them again in response MC had to remain vigilant. They still do whenever they are alone with him. Which in turn makes the youngest guilty about the past.

Barbatos is someone MC keeps Solomon away from at all costs. After all MC was used to Barbatos teleporting the sorcerer around from place to place. It did become concerning when Solomon would show up later and later each time he came home. So to avoid that MC would make themselves and Solomon avoid the butler at all costs. However the present butler soon finds this behavior hurtful when MC constantly declines his offer to come over. In the end MC has a hard time remembering that this isn’t the past Barbatos.

Many soon noticed the strong bond MC now has with Solomon and of course they all become jealous. At first they noticed how MC would go to him for little things, or just prefer to be around him more, but when they asked about moving in with him rather than staying in the House of Lamentation it threw everyone for a loop. It made it even worse when MC said they’ll be there to help the brothers every morning like usual. They wanted MC to realize that they’re an exchange student not an attendant.

Many also notice how reliant they are on Solomon for certain things. Sometimes MC just needs Solomons presence in a room to be able to feel comfortable. If not MC will then become slightly annoyed or fidgety.

Solomon becomes more protective over MC without even realizing it. If he believes one of the brothers are being too bothersome to MC he will step in and whisk them away.

Solomon finds it easier to steal MC’s attention away now. Before when he would try and drag them away from the brothers, or even try and steal their attention for just a second it always failed. However with how close they both became in the past, if Solomon interrupts a conversation MC is having with the brothers MC finds themselves listening to him a bit more than the brother they were speaking with.

MC is much more reckless and blunt with their decision making now. Before they were a bit more collected with their thoughts. However being in the past made their impulsive decision making become a habit. Thus causing the brothers to sometimes question MC methods.

MC would often question the brothers as to why they weren’t in their demon forms. They suppose they just got used to seeing them in those outfits for so long now it became the norm.

[vivwritesfics]

whoops one bed you and lando (besties to lovers edition)

things had been rough in her life and things had been rough in his career. The start of the season wasn't everything McLaren had promised it would be and it had frustrated him. But he didn't quite understand what was going on in her life.

Still, he wanted to help in any way he could. So he had somebody book a nice little holiday for them, just as friends. Two beds and all that.

A cottage in the countryside was booked for them. The description on the website was very clear about two beds. Lando drove them out there. She controlled the music while he drove (even if he didn't like the music she chose, he wasn't going to complain. He'd never complain about anything she did).

When they got to the cottage the two of them immediately ran to find the two bedrooms.

"I've found the master bedroom," Lando said as he opened the room to find a kingsized bed. He dropped his bag on the floor as Y/N walked past him, trying to find the second bedroom.

It didn't take long until she found the door that probably led to the second bedroom. "Found the second... bedroom."

But, as she opened the door, she realised it wasn't the second bedroom. No, it was simply another door to the master bedroom. "Wait, is this the only one?" She asked as she dropped her own bag.

"Maybe it's two singles pushed together," Lando suggested as he pulled back the blankets. Spoiler alert, it wasn't two single beds pushed together.

Y/N looked up at Lando. "What the hell are we gonna do?"

Before either could say anything more, there was a knock on the cottage door. Y/N left her bag where it was to open the door.

It was a kindly old woman standing at the door. She smiled and stepped into the cottage when Y/N opened the door. "Hello, love," she said with a smile. "How are you finding everything?"

It took Y/N a moment to work out this was the owner of the cottage. "Oh. Oh! Lovely, everything is just lovely," she responded as she tried to match her smile. "But, I thought there was supposed to be more than one bed."

"Yes, we used to have two twin beds in the master bedroom, but since it's mostly couples staying with us for romantic weekends so we swapped it for the king."

As she said it, Lando walked up behind her. "That shouldn't be a problem for young lovers like you," she continued.

Lando swapped his arms around her and placed his head on her shoulder. "That's more than fine," he said.

They said their goodbyes to her and shut the door. "So," Lando began as he turned her towards him. "One bed."

"One bed," she repeated, sucking in a breath. "We can top and tail it."

"And sleep beside your smelly feet? No thanks."

They decided not to think anything of it. It would be fine, they were best friends and they could work through it. This was nothing.

But then they had a few bottles of wine between them.

But then they woke up beside each other, clothes scattered on the floor.

"What the hell happened?" She asked as she shook her head. But then she noticed the dried... stuff on her stomach. "Oh Lando, we didn't. We can't have."

Lando pulled down the blanket and looked between them. "I think we did."

At first things were awkward between the two. They tried to avoid each other at all cost. But in a small cottage where their only company was each other, it was pretty hard.

After two days of avoiding each other, they caved and slept together again. This time the alcohol wasn't influencing them. This time it was natural. The time after that as well. Fuck, they couldn't keep away from each other.

By the time summer break ended and they returned to Formula One, they were basically in love. They walked through the paddock together, like they always did. "I got to go for a meeting," he said and grabbed her hand, pulling her in for a kiss before he left.

"When did that happen?" Asked Oscar as they walked together.

Lando just shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

[aryxchse]

percy doesn't know.

— leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader.

inspired from the song ;; scotty doesn't know by lustra

summary ;; percy is oblivious about leo fucking his sister at every chance he gets.

warnings ;; nsfw stuff i guess, no full smut though. percy is being oblivious as hell, reader is sneaky and leo's a little bastard <3

a / n ;; wish my english was good enough to actually write some good smut, but please don't kill me because i just implied it 👐🏻 OH and they're aged up, obvi.

Percy doesn't know that y/n and me

Do it in my cabin every Sunday

She tells him she's in lake but she doesn't go

Still she's on her knees and Percy doesn't know

y/n l/n, percy jackson's precious little sister. she was only a year younger than him, but he still acted like she was a baby. he tried to protect her at all costs and sweared that he would kill anyone who looked at her wrong.

and when she told him that she was dating with leo, he couldn't help but get even more protective. but he did not have the right to say something, because he was happily in love with annabeth. and y/n just wanted to live that kind of love too, she deserved it.

so when she told him she was going to lake, to swim and meditate a little, he believed her. she was too soft and naive to do something secretly behind him anyways. at least, that's what percy told to himself.

little did he didn't know was that y/n, was going to bunker 9.

"finally," leo breathed out when he saw his perfect girlfriend y/n. "thought percy didn't let you be alone."

y/n smiled mischiefly as she approached to him, already seeing him hard. it looked like it hurt, and she would do anything to make her sweet boyfriend satisfied. "doesn't matter, i'm here right? let me help you with that." she said, pointing his arousal.

leo only smirked when she got down to her knees.

I can't believe he's so trusting

While I'm right behind you thrusting

y/n's got him on the phone

And she's trying not to moan

"h-hi, perce. what's up?" she said, trying to hold her voice stable.

she wasn't going to open the phone, really. but leo, being a little shit he is, insisted. appearently he wanted to see how much his girlfriend was capable of holding herself.

besides, leo was too heated at the moment that he didn't even cared when percy called. she was close, he was close, they were so close to having the feeling of paradise. percy would enter the room and leo would still keep pounding into her, that's how hot he was. he couldn't stop.

leo bited back a laugh, thrusting into her more. he bended her over at his working table, the metal stuff throwed on the ground long ago. she tried to scratch the table but of course, failed.

"no, thank you i don't want anything." she said, arching her back more as leo kept his speed. she was so close to exploding that she was afraid she wouldn't be able to muffle her moans like she did now.

percy was on a date with annabeth at the amusement park and he was catching some plushies now. and he knew how his sister loved plushies, especially sea creature themed ones. "well, m-maybe you can get the shark one, thanks perce." she said, tears rolling down as her voice shaked a bit.

"okay, love you too. kiss annabeth for me." she said before hanging up, and releasing herself with a loud cry. she screamed all of the voices she kept inside while she hit her orgasm, panting on leo's desk. it didn't take much longer for leo to cum after her, a breathless chuckle leaving his lips.

"you did so well, princesa." he panted, kissing her back.

I did her on his birthday

percy doesn't know

percy doesn't know

percy doesn't know

it was august 18th, percy's birthday. everyone of their friends were invited, so it was normal for leo being there too.

the house was full of people, that percy couldn't even look or talk with his sister more than two minutes. everyone congratulated him on his new age and how handsome he turned out. bla, bla, bla.

y/n wore a white skirt with a blue crop top that leo got her at her birthday. he didn't said anything while he handed it to her, but the low neckline was making her boobs look gorgeous. and he don't even mention of how hot that top looked with that skirt.

leo held her hand as he whispered in her ear. "i need you, right now." he whispered in a desperate tone, a tone she couldn't say no to.

"leo we can't— the house is too crowded and-" leo kissed her neck secretly, only making her squirm under his touch. "that's why no one would notice." he whispered in her ear.

percy was talking with annabeth when he saw y/n taking leo's hand and dragging him to somewhere. "y/n!" he called, making the couple turn around.

"w-what's up?" she asked, trying to sound not too panicked. percy didn't noticed, thanks to gods. "where are you two going?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. which annabeth was going to be mad at him for it later.

"i gotta pee man, and she's leading me to the bathroom." leo explained, hiding behind her so that percy won't see his boner. percy was going to say something, but was intrupted by annabeth.

"okay then, we wouldn't want leo to pee in his pants on your birthday, right babe?" annabeth asked, not caring if percy was going to answer or not. and not waiting for it either. "but-" percy tried to say.

"great! be quick though, we're about to give him his presents." annabeth said like she knew, she winked to the couple. y/n gave her a warm smile, in a way only she could understand what she meant behind it. thank you, you're the best!

annabeth dragged percy to the kitchen while the couple got upstairs, making out the moment they entered the bathroom.

a / n ;; thanks for reading, you really survived to here fr 🫶🏻

[harrystylesfan2686]

Alone Part 2 (Alternative Ending)

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: Reader finally finds someone who cares for her but at what cost...

Warnings: Minor Mention of self harm

A/N: Surprise😏

Masterlist Part 1

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It has been three days since your last mission, the very mission that got you hurt and made you realize just how fucked your head is. Three days since you left the fight that left you with a big tear at your waist which will most definitely leave a scar.

It's half healed already, so is the cut you gave yourself but you didn't realize how deep you hurt yourself because it's left a thin white line that's fully healed but can be easily recognized.

You shift on your feet from where you're standing beside the rest of inner circle. You are at the high lords meeting, accompanying your High Lord and High Lady.

You keep moving your weight from one foot to another because the pressure keeps causing pain in your waist. You can't wait for this to be over.

When you get a chance to leave you take it, running of the the nearest restroom you can find. You take off your fight leathers to find out you bled through your bandaid. You rub your hands over your head trying to think of a way you can hide your injury from everyone.

"Well, what do we have here." A voice fills the room, one that you know oh so well. He always does this, annoy you or talk to you every chance he gets. You don't know why but you put up with him everytime too. You practically hear the smirk in his words as you complaint to the Mother for putting you in this situation right now.

"Go away, Eris." You hope for him to take the hint and leave you alone but you, too, know that it's too late considering you can clearly smell you blood in the room, and so can he.

He crosses the room in just a few strides and puts a hand on your shoulder, turning you around with surprising gentleness. He sees the blood on you shirt that's seeped out of your bandaid and intakes a sharp breath.

"Left up your shirt." You are taken a back at his order. Mouth opened agaped as you see anger swirling in his amber eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"Y/N, If you don't lift your shirt up in the next minute, I'm going to rip it off of you." He practically growls. Your eyes widen and he raises his eyebrows, daring you to question him.

After a minute of silence, he raises his hands to your shirt and you take a step back,"Alright! I'll do it!" His eyes narrow and you sigh, lifting you shirt for his to see the scarlet bandage.

"Who did this to you?" His hands clench into fists.

"No one. It's nothing." You sigh.

"Was it an enemy?" You shake your head. "Who was it?" You shut your mouth and look away. Eris' eyes widen in realisation. "Was it them?" He spits in anger. You look back at him and your lack of answer in enough for him.

"I'm going to kill them." His body radiates pury fury as he steps away from you and starts walking towards the bathroom door.

"Eris!" You run to step in front of him, blocking the door and putting your hands against his chest, gasping because of the movement causing sudden pain to your waist. Eris immediately wraps an arm around you waist and searches you for any other cause of pain.

"Are you crazy?" You exclaimed.

"No. I'm fucking angry that the people who are your apparent family, who are supposed to protect you, hurt you. And I intent on hurting them just as much."

"Eris, you're going to start a war! And that's not even the point. They didn't hurt me alright, at least not physically. I went on a mission a few days ago and got hurt, they had nothing to do with it. They don't even know I'm hurt, for gods' sake." But that doesn't seem to calm him.

"What do you mean they didn't hurt you physically? And how the hell do they not know you've been hurt since days?" It seems like his rage just amplifies.

"I just didn't tell them alright?"

"They should've checked you for injuries the second you came back from the mission and they didnt care enough to do that. And what kind mission leaves your entire waist fucking open?!" He puts a hand behind your neck.

"Why are you acting like this? Why do you care if they care?" You don't notice you close proximity because you are so shocked from the way he's reacting.

"Because I care about you!" You intake a sharp breath. "What?"

"I care. I care for you. I always have." He looks into your eyes with so much honesty that it leaves you speechless.

"I care for you so deeply. I always have, and I thought you would figure that out yourself because of the way I talk to you. Why do you think I only talk to you. Why take every chance I can have to hear to speak to me, to hear your voice, doesn't matter if you're bitter.

I take every chance I can get to have your attention because I care for you. I do not know why, but I do and im not ashamed of it. I know you don't care for me the same way but I don't care, I'll take every second of your time that you'll give me."

What are you hearing? Someone truly cares for you? This isn't true. It must be a joke. It has to be. This is no way that Eris Vanserra cares for you. He cares for no one. Everybody know that.

So then why are you believing him, believing his words, clinging to them for dear life. If this truly is a prank, if what he is saying wasnt true, you don't think you'll survive. You won't survive another Heartbreak. But something tells you that he isn't lying, that he is telling the truth, that he truly, genuinely cares for you. Something deep in your heart tells you that he might truly love you.

You gasp when you feel it. Feel everything click into place. Feel the second everything in you life finally makes sense.

"You feel it now, don't you?" His voice soft as a tug feels on your heart. Your breath heavy as you look at him in the eyes, feeling the thin golden string connecting your souls to one another.

"So leave them." He pleads.

"Why are you doing this, my love? Who are you doing this for? They don't care about you." His hand on your cheek, swiping back and forth softly while the other hugs your waist, pushing you flush against him. "I do. I care about you so much and I refuse to see you hurt yourself for people who don't value your existence." He puts his forehead to yours.

"Leave them, come with me to Autum Court and I will treat you like the queen you are. And even if you don't want to come with me it's alright, just leave them. Please." His voice cracks with your heart, taking a piece of it with him daring not to return. You don't want him to.

"Okay. I'll come with you." Tears fall down your face as his breaks into a smile. "Really?" His voice unsure.

"Yeah, I'll leave Valaris, leave them. I'll come with you." You smile genuinely after a long time and he sighs in relief.

His lips slam to yours and you both lose yourselves in the kiss. You smile into his lips, finally happy to have found someone who cares for you enough to threaten to go into war for you.

You finally found your person and you will never let him go.

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[mediumgayitalian]

okay a few solangelo things i’m curious your take on,

what kind of gift givers do you think will and nico are to each other?

are either of them music nerds? making playlists? gifting playlists? what music do u think they like?

what is their favorite fruit?

do you think either of them keep up with pop culture? are they fans of anything? celebrity crushes? like do you think will would think timothee chalamet is cute bc he lowkey has nico’s vibes and is such a buzzer name for celeb crushes? lolll

and then, do you think nico shamelessly takes will’s sweaters and shirts to wear or secretly swipes them?

ty! love ur blog so much xx

HELL YEAH THANK YOU

what kind of gift givers do you think will and nico are to each other?

i think nico spoils will fucking rotten.

his dad is the god of wealth he is holding NOTHING back. aside from that, he grew up wealthy and spent so so long in the lotus casino. i think he has a rly bad handle on money lol.

however he's such a mysterious guy that i think it doesn't occur to will that nico is actively spending money on him??

like will makes an offhand comment about how he would marry the person who would bring him the mystical rocket launching boba fett. and nico is like word okay and the next day there is a rocket launching boba fett on will's pillow and he's like BRO???? OH MY GOD?????

but he just figures that nico knew someone who had it!! he knows nico is big on figurines & collectibles and has a lot of connections, so he thinks nico just called in a favour.

in reality nico did all those things and also spent like two hundred k lol

basically, nico doesn't even think about it. if he hears a friend express a want that he has to means to acquire...its not even an active choice to him?? he's like well why wouldn't i buy this for them.

and i think this means a whole lot to will!!

he's spent his life in his mom's tour van or a bunk bed. he grew up in two wars. he was responsible for an entire infirmary at 13. he's a nerd and he likes nerdy things but like...collecting takes time. and money he doesn't have, because money isn't really a focus in camp and its not like he's paid lol

so of course there are things that he likes but...imagine being will. imagine having a budget for the INFIRMARY YOU RUN and thinking, like...well the camp has only so much money. i know exactly what these medical supplies cost. i refuse to steal. why would i ever be so selfish to ask for money to be spent on me and the things i like?

and then there's nico, who doesn't need him to ask. who WANTS to give him things he wants, not just what he needs or what he wants for others. what WILL wants. nico will get him.

will on the other hand....he gives away his time like it's free.

he does things for people. constantly. like austin complains about not having anywhere quiet to practice and will builds him a soundproof practice room. you know?

now when nico, who has had no one spend their time on him since bianca....

like his father did not have time for him. even when he lived in the underworld, he was put to work. or else he was bored. it's not like he and hades HUNG OUT, you know?

and of course he had no friends to spend their time on him. even in his first time at camp half blood -- for the first time, bianca didnt have time for him. she chose the hunters for ETERNITY, she said i am done choosing you now. and nico drove percy insane, who certainly didn't have time for him between saving the world. the entire time we saw him in TTC he was being pushed away.

by the time he had hazel, HE was the one pushing himself away before anyone else could. he filled his time so he wasn't waiting for anyone else. besides, through no fault of hers, he and hazel CAN'T give each other as much of their time as they would like!! they live on opposite sides of the country!!

but will.....

gods will. will SEEKS HIM OUT. the first thing will says to him is i have carved out, in my busy healer schedule, three days of time for YOU. not only have i carved out these three days, but in that brief moment of time where i was running around camp, i was thinking about you. you were a PRIORITY and i'm upset that you did not come spend your time with me.

like.....oh my god. can you imagine that? being nico? hearing someone you barely know, at this point, talk about how much time he wants to spend with you? and then as you get closer, he spends SO MUCH time with you!! he makes you a priority!

will walks nico to breakfast and watches him in sword practice and takes out his schedule when nico is making his to make sure they line up. he plans dates and they're FUN and he is so careful to make them enjoyable for nico, too, so much so that he forgets his nerves.

the biggest gifts they give to each other is noticing, i think. i see you, i see what you need and wont ask for, and i care enough to give it to you anyway.

are either of them music nerds? making playlists? gifting playlists? what music do u think they like?

will is the HUGEST MUSIC NERD IN THE WORLD.

he may not have many musical talents himself but music was naomi solace's whole world. you bet your ass it's everything for him, too.

he is teased for his love of country, and he does love country (everybody loves country if you hate country you are lying to yourself, i know you sing along to before he cheats with your whole chest), but he has a VAST music taste.

he is a britney spears stan. i will not be convinced otherwise.

nico, on the other hand, is not nearly as ignorant about music as people pretend he is. y'all he was in a casino/arcade until like 2006!!!!! do you think it was silent in there!!!!! do you think he is not the absolute king of just dance and DDR!!!

however he was, like, 10. so i think he's familiar with a lot of songs but in the way you were when you were a kid, you know?? like i could sing paparazzi w my whole chest beginning to end flawlessly at eight years old, but i would not have been able to recognise lady gaga by name or sight.

i think he and will make somewhat of a game out of it. the first time they hang out, nico is NERVOUS beforehand. like for hours. will said they were going to have a chill day bc he has time off, but what are they supposed to DO?? before they were actively doing stuff together. will was teaching nico first aid basics, or nico was helping him around the infirmary; they were helping rebuild camp together. sure, they were talking, but they had something to focus on if things got awkward or conversation faded naturally.

that is VERY DIFFERENT from just hanging out in person. is nico supposed to have conversation starters prepared? how much silence is rude? is will going to finally decide he's boring? or weird? will is such a hyper person!!! how is nico supposed to entertain him!!

meanwhile will is in his cabin freaking the fuck out to his siblings like GUYS HES GONNA THINK IM A WEIRD NERD DORK LOSER 😭😭😭.....WHAT IF HE SAYS THE WORD SAND AND I GO ON THE ANAKIN SKYWALKER RANT ON REFLEX FUCK KAYLA WHAT DO I DO I DONT KNOW HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS LIKE A NORMAL PERSON HE IS SO OUT OF MY LEAGUE

so he calls his mom 💀

and his mom is like baby....you are a disaster are you aware. and hes like thanks MOM i know i need HELP OKAY

and naomi is like well you got on with my backstage crew just fine. and hes like well yeah we just talked about music that was easy.

...

OH THANKS MOM YOURE SO SMART

and he's like wait nico has spent a lot of time in the underworld...he might not be very up to date!! this'll be awesome. so he stays up till like 3 on the big house computer carefully making nico several CDs worth of playlists.

he makes HOURS of music. way more than they could ever listen to in one day, but he gets carried away. he makes a playlist with his favourite country music, including his moms stuff obviously, with rock music he thinks nico in particular will like, pop punk stuff, regular pop, an entire CD dedicated to the icon herself kesha (whom he knows personally bc she sun backup vocals for his mom when she was a teenager), some musicals, and some iconic european music to top it off. he has a little bit of EVERYTHING.

most important, though, he makes a CD with the top 100 billboard songs from the years 1958 (when it started) to 1985. he doesnt have enough time to do it all the way to this year in one night but vows to work on it when he has time.

when he goes to nico's cabin, he comes with a stack of CDs as long as his arm and chiron's CD player. he's practically sparkling with excitement; when nico opens the door he is already halfway through a sentence lol.

for four straight hours, they just listen to song after song, will pausing after each one to ask what nico thinks. he recognises a lot of them, even though he didn't know their names, but even still he's pretty quiet at first. but as they go on it gets hard not to get caught up in wills excitement, and he dances like such a dork, anyway, is it his fault for laughing? and those four hours pass like MINUTES and suddenly its curfew and will has to go.

this becomes their tradition! will plays a song, nico reviews it. even as they learn how to hang out with each other in different ways, it becomes reflex -- when there's a song playing will looks at nico for a reaction. when they're with others, in public, whenever.

the first time nico makes will a playlist he cries.

the playlist is called sunshine.

will plays on his walkman until its worn right through.

what is their favorite fruit?

at first will thinks nico doesn't like fruit at all because he has to force this dumbass to eat fruit and vegetables. all he eats is like. cereal and sandwiches. it stresses will the fuck out.

he's out here plopping a bowl of fruit on nico's table like eat this whole thing or i'm gonna whoop your ass before scurvy does. (he is genuinely afraid nico is going to get scurvy, although its not a very effective anxiety because hes kind of deeply afraid of scurvy in general and is always trying to push people to eat oranges lol).

nico ALWAYS drags his feet about it. at one point will gets worried that nico just straight up doesn't like fruit and starts fretting about synthetizing supplements.

turns out nico is just, like...a little pretentious. about fruit particularly. in his defense, he has been all over the world. like he's had indian mangoes and algerian clementines okay it is VERY hard to settle for stuff grown in north america as nice as the demeter greenhouses are.

his favourite fruit ever is the lemon though. he had a lemon tree in his backyard when he was a kid that he doesn't remember, exactly, but he remembers how it tastes. will brings him a lemon once and almost as if his hands are working on their own, he cuts a slice, removes the peel and pith, puts it in a jar of sugar, and shakes to coat it, like his nonna would do secretly when he mama wasn't looking. its the best thing he's ever tasted.

will is a fruit fanatic, on the other hand. he steals strawberries every time he walks by the fields. the demeter cabin has to count their blueberries every night because he can and will eat them all when no one's looking.

his favourite, though, and he never ever gets it at camp, is prickly pear. in the summers before camp he would go to the desert with his mom and pick enough to make his stomach hurt -- he's never home when they're in season now, so sometimes when she's free shell drive up to new york just to bring him a box of them. she knows he's busy and cant leave camp in summers but she wants him to have that, at least.

do you think either of them keep up with pop culture? are they fans of anything? celebrity crushes? like do you think will would think timothee chalamet is cute bc he lowkey has nico’s vibes and is such a buzzer name for celeb crushes? lolll

i think all year-rounders are into pop culture just fine, but they're a few years behind. except for music -- will knows music. but things like movies and tv shows and memes, they either get updated from their summer-only friends or they stumble upon in naturally when it's not longer relevant lol.

nico, though, has an encyclopedic knowledge of old pop culture, because the lotus got new tech and games and movies before literally anyone else. he saw back to the future before it was in theatres and it changed his life. he quotes it all the time and no one has called him out on it then, but it is only a matter of time.

(he has seen star wars. he saw star wars before will was alive. but it is 100% funnier to pretend he doesn't know what a galaxy is and watch will's eye twitch when he asks him about luke skyrunner)

and then, do you think nico shamelessly takes will’s sweaters and shirts to wear or secretly swipes them?

yes absolutely. but he's super embarrassed about it at first so he genuinely STEALS them, not just borrows them.

it's a heist and everything. he shadow travels into the apollo cabin at like three in the morning and rifles through will's shelf. when he gets back he panics and shoves it under his mattress, where it lives in shame for four months. will just thinks it must have been an unfortunate victim of some poor sick child or bleeding demigod and writes it off.

after several months, during which nico thinks about the sweater ALL the time but cannot physically force himself to touch, nico finally gets brave enough to take it out from under his mattress. he just stares at it for a long ass time, wrinkling it in his clenched hands. it's just a hoodie, you know?? who cares.

nico cares. obviously.

eventually he gets so annoyed with himself that he just yanks it on expecting to be able to tell himself like SEE you dumbass it's just a piece of clothing it literally does not matter. except.

except.

the hoodie still smells like will.

somehow.

and that is.

well.

he would rather dunk his head into the river of fire than admit it, but he melts. the hoodie is old as hell and worn and so so so so soft, gods, no wonder will wears it all the time. he never wants to take it off ever.

for weeks, whenever he's alone in the cabin, he wears the hoodie. it stops smelling like will pretty quickly but he doesn't mind, it's still the most comfortable thing ever. it becomes second nature to walk into his cabin, throw off his jacket, and tug the hoodie on, wearing it to bed.

on one night, and of course it's the hermes' cabin fault, everyone is rushing out of their cabin to see what the fresh fuck is sounding like twenty four fire alarms at once and also a nuclear explosion. nico, in his haste, does not take off the hoodie.

will, whipped, makes sure his siblings are okay and then turns immediately to find nico. he Sees The Hoodie. nico Sees Him See The Hoodie. nico tries to flee.

will has longer legs and also spots a teasing opportunity, so hera herself could not stop him.

will teases him to pieces but is also visibly pleased. the next morning nico finds another hoodie of will's hung over his desk chair.

he wears will's hoodies all the time.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THESE IN I HAD SO MUCH FUN

[cerys-scribbles]

we save each other

Halsin x F!Reader Wordcount: 2.4k When Orin takes Halsin, you are determined to get him back - no matter the cost. Warnings: blood, injuries

The temple of Bhaal smells of damp stone and blood.

It’s oppressive—the weigh of stone all around, the scent of old and new blood, the whispers, and the sense of being watched. After the nautiloid, the shadow curse, and the assault on Moonrise, you thought no place could truly rattle you.

You were wrong. Because this temple is wrong. And you want nothing more than to leave it. 

But can’t. Because Orin took the one thing she knows you can’t lose. 

“Come on,” you whisper to the others. Shadowheart has a hand on her weapon; Gale looks thoroughly unsettled; even Lae’zel appears uneasy. 

When you enter the temple, you see the altar. Orin is standing over it, her hand caressing the side of his broad face. Your heart lurches in your chest at the sight of him bound and unconscious. 

“Halsin,” you breathe. 

Orin lifts her gaze to yours and offers the kind of smile normally seen on skulls. 

You have little memory of what follows after that. You snarl a challenge, bring up your weapon, and then all the hells seem to break loose. Gale is snarling spells, Shadowheart whirling as she parries blow after blow, and Lae’zel charges through the ranks of Bhaal’s faithful like a battering ram. 

But your eyes are the on the altar. 

You fight alongside your companions until you can reach him. Then you’re at his side, a knife in hand. 

“Halsin,” you say urgently. You touch his cheek, trying to rouse him. 

He must have been drugged. You can think of no other way that Orin could have taken and held him. At the urgent sound of your voice, his eyes flicker open. He seems to be making a great effort to drag himself to consciousness. His eyes are glazed, his lips soundlessly forming your name. You set your blade against the ropes and saw through the bindings around his wrists. “I’m here,” you say. “You’re all right.” 

It takes a moment for him to find his voice. “You came.”

“Of course I did.” The ropes are infuriatingly thick and you drag your knife back and forth, fraying them. “You had any doubt?” 

There is a moment’s hesitation, and it has little to do with his drugged state. He did doubt, you realize. He must have thought he would die down here, sacrificed like so many others. A fierce protectiveness wells up within you. When you’re both free of this place, you are going to tell him precisely how loved he truly is. 

The ropes give way and you free his wrists, trying to rub blood and sensation back into his hands. He begins to sit up, but you press him down. “Rest a moment. Then we’ll—”

You feel the impact first. It’s like being hit with a rock—but then comes the chill and the utter wrongness of it. 

Halsin’s eyes widen. All of the drugged lassitude falls away from him and he rolls over, his ankles catching on the bindings. His hands reach for you. No, not for you—you realize—but for the dagger protruding from your chest. 

One of the cultists was invisible and he came up behind you. You turn, raising your weapon to try and defend you both, but the world tilts sideways. 

You can’t collapse. You have to keep him safe. You have to free him.

You fall. There is the distant sound of an animal roar, the clashing of steel, and the smell of coppery blood. 

Then, nothing.

*

Halsin has seen many beautiful things in his long life—the golden hue of dawn creeping across the old forest, the rarest of flowers blooming in moonlight, the sharp cut of lightning across a stormy sky. 

But none of those sights compare to this. To her. 

She kneels down beside him, as though the chaos all around them is nothing. A knife flickers between her fingers and she begins to free him.

She came for him. 

Part of him had hoped—no, he had yearned—to see her again. But Halsin has long been a protector, not the protected. He learned to fend for himself at a young age. Her rescue of him from the goblins was a welcome surprise. After Aradin fled, Halsin thought no aid would be coming. But she did come for him—not just once, but twice. 

He should have known better than to underestimate her, he thinks, as her hair falls around them both. She frees his arms, and then she is massaging circulation into his sore hands. 

Gentle, always so gentle. So caring. He has never met anyone with such a gentle heart. It’s why he fell in love with her. And he does love her, even if he has not found the moment to tell her yet. There were always other priorities—the shadow curse, the tadpoles, the missions. There would always be time later, he told himself. But then he was kidnapped, and he realized belatedly how precious their little time together has been. He should have told her everything: how he treasures their conversations, how beautiful she is, how her kind heart is a rarity.

And now she is beside him, hope blossoming between them. Once they are free of this place, he will tell her everything.  

But then a cultist appears and drives a knife through her back. She makes a small sound, as though the breath has been taken from her. She looks more confused than pained, and when she glances down, it is with a line between her delicate brows. 

“No!” The word is yanked from his lips. It is a raw and agonized denial. A plea. 

When she falls, it seems to take an eternity—as though time itself cannot bear to see her injured.

A fury such as he has never known howls through him. 

The animal takes him and he welcomes the change. The ropes binding his legs snap, and Halsin lunges for the cultist. Bone and muscle give way between his jaws, and he tastes fresh blood. Another cultist lunges and Halsin kills him, too. Everything is a blur of adrenaline and fear and violence. He has rarely allowed the change to take him so thoroughly, but right now animal fury is the best weapon he possesses. 

Once the cultists have been driven back, Halsin looks back at her. 

She lays on her side, hair fallen across her face. She needs the man, not the beast. With a great effort, he changes back. It feels wrong; his instincts are screaming that he needs to be the bear to protect her.

“Stay with me, love,” he whispers, kneeling beside her. He turns her over, taking her gently in his arms. 

His magic is sluggish; his body is still fighting to rid itself of the damn potions that kept him docile. 

“Oak Father,” he murmurs, pressing his hand to her wound. “If you only ever answer one of my prayers, let it be this one. Please, give me the strength to save her.” His throat tightens painfully. “And if I cannot, keep her safe until we can meet again.” 

He spell takes hold. Her flesh slowly knits back together, but he doesn’t release the spell. He needs to ensure that the internal injuries will heal, that she will not bleed from within. 

He pours all of his magic into her, every last bit of strength he has. And when that runs out, he simply holds her.

All around him, the room has gone silent. Orin lays dead, a sword wound in her chest. Lae’zel flicks her blade free of blood with a contemptuous snarl. She snarls a curse in her tongue, and even if he cannot understand it, Halsin agrees completely. 

“How is she?” Gale rushes over, kneeling by Halsin. 

“I don’t know,” Halsin replies. “But we should get her someplace safe.” 

*

They retreat to a place called the Elfsong Tavern. Gale explains that they took rooms here, and while it is no forest, it’s more comfortable and safe that sleeping on the city streets. Halsin eases her onto a bed, sitting back so that Shadowheart can work. Her spells reinforce his, and her brows draw tight as she murmurs a silent prayer. Halsin tries not to hover, but he will not leave. He cannot leave.

When Shadowheart finishes, she sits back. She is breathing a little unsteadily, having spent much of her own power.

“Well?” asks Astarion. He lingers in the doorway, looking a bit like a stray cat that cannot decide if he wants in or out. “Will she survive? Or do we need to resurrect Orin so Lae’zel can kill her again?”

“She needs time,” says Shadowheart. “For the spells to take, for her own body to take up some of the healing.” Her gaze meets Halsin’s. “She’s past the worst of it, I think. You managed to keep her from bleeding out back in the temple."

Halsin bits down on his lip. He should have been able to do more. If he had not been drugged, that wound would have been healed in a matter of moments.

She came to rescue him, and she nearly paid for his life with her own. The thought makes him feel sick to his stomach. “I’ll stay with her,” says Halsin, settling at her bedside.

The night passes slowly. 

The others come and go. Astarion stops by with more blankets while Wyll ducks out to buy more healing potions. Shadowheart urges Halsin to bathe, promising to watch over her in the meantime. He goes, if only to scrub away the blood and the smell of captivity. He changes into clean clothes and returns to his beloved’s bedside. 

She sleeps fitfully. Sweat beads at her brow and her eyes roam beneath her lids. “My heart,” he murmurs, taking her hand in his. “Rest easy. You’re safe.” 

Finally, near dawn, she wakes. 

She tries to speak, but it comes out dry and raspy. “Just a moment,” says Halsin, reaching for a pitcher of water. He pours a small cup, holding it to her lips. She looks as though she wants to protest that she can sit up and drink on her own, but her arm shakes. Her fingers still curl around his, as though to maintain an illusion of control. But when she’s finished drinking, she looks exhausted.

Halsin lowers her back into the pillows, rearranging the blankets around her. 

“What happened?” she asks. “Did everyone make it out all right? Are you hurt?” 

Of course she is more concerned with the others than herself. “Everyone made it out,” he says. 

She reaches for one of his wrists. There are still red marks where the ropes rubbed his skin raw. “You haven’t healed yourself.”

He turns his wrist so that he can take her hand. Hers are so much smaller. “You needed the magic more.” She frowns at him, as though she wants to protest. Halsin smooths her hair back with his free hand. “Sleep. You should rest.” 

She closes her eyes and leans into his touch. “What about you?” 

“I’ll meditate in a little while,” he says. 

Her frown deepens. Then she shifts in her bed, making as though to sit up. He places a hand on her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Moving over,” she says. “Or, trying to.” She pats the place beside her. “Please. The bed is more than big enough for both of us. That chair looks terribly uncomfortable.” 

It’s true. This is one of those large, goose feather and linen affairs. 

He bites back his protests—that he doesn’t wish to harm her by accident, that he doesn’t need sleep. Instead, he carefully lays down beside her. She lets out a small sigh, and curls into him. 

She feels so small beside him. So fragile. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispers. “When Orin came to me and said you’d been taken.”

Halsin wraps an arm around her. He had wished to save this for a time when she is well, but he has wasted far too much time already. “I feared the same.” He takes a breath. His heart pounds with uncertainty, but he needs to say it. “When you were injured... I realized how much time I have wasted. There are things I want to tell you."

She lifts her gaze to his. “You can tell me anything.”

His hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking back and forth. "I love you.” He feels her go still but he forces himself to continue. “I should have said so before, when the nights were calmer. When we might have stolen away for a few hours to ourselves. When we weren’t in a city on the brink of war. But even if the words have come too late, I have to tell you that I love you. You are a wonder and even if you don’t feel the same, I want you to know.”

He half expects her to pull away. But instead, she snuggles closer. “You should have said something earlier, it’s true,” she murmurs. “Or I should have been brave enough to say it first. One of us should have spoken up sooner.” She kisses his hand, and the touch burns through him. “I love you, too.”

Joy fills him. It has been years since he felt such unbridled happiness—there are no demands on him, no responsibilities other than this. He will keep her safe, ensure that she comes through the coming battles alive. “We will live through this,” he murmurs, pulling her close. “I promise you that. And once you are well…”

He hears the smile in her voice. “What are we going to do?” 

He kisses her hair. “Many things, my heart. Many, many things.”

*

When you wake, you’re still in Halsin’s arms.

It is like sleeping near a fire, but not unpleasantly so. You’re cozy beneath the blankets, his arms around you and your face turned into the pillow. You feel a little dizzy, a little giddy. You can’t quite believe that Halsin is beside you, that he loves you as much as you love him. You can’t help yourself; you snuggle closer.

The moment you stir, he rouses. “You’re awake.”

“I am,” you say. Your voice sounds a little rusty from sleep. “How long have I been out?”

“That does not matter. You need the rest,” he says so firmly that you cannot protest. He smooths a hand over your forehead. “No fever, that’s a good sign. How’s the pain?”

You gingerly touch the bandages around your chest. There’s a deep ache, but you know it’ll fade with time. “Not so bad.”

“You’re staying in bed for a few more hours,” he says. “The others are out shopping and collecting information on something to do with rescuing Wyll’s father.”

Your heart lurches. You try to sit up. “I need to help—”

“You will,” he says, gently pressing you back down into the mattress. “But you must recover first. I’ll speak with the others, and don’t fear, my heart, when we go out to rescue Duke Ravengard, you’ll be there.” 

That mollifies you a little. You know he wouldn’t lie to you, even for the sake of keeping you safe. “All right.” Your stomach gurgles loudly and you flush.

“And I’ll see about breakfast,” Halsin says, smiling. 

He begins to rise from the bed, but you catch his hand. “Hey.”

Halsin looks back at you, a question in his eyes. 

“Thank you,” you say. “For taking care of me.”

His face softens. He kneels beside the bed. “Thank you. For always rescuing me.”

You kiss him—and it doesn’t feel like the first time. It feels natural, like slipping into a comfortable shirt. You both fit together perfectly. “We rescue each other,” you whisper. 

End

[changbinsboiledegg]

Hello! I really like your works and want to request, if you are okay with it, skz reaction, when their s/o is.. have money, so she can spoil them? For example.. after a hard day she gift them some big bouquet or take to eat out. Like.. yk usually it's reader being spoiled like a princess, but we do it reverse hehe

EEEE thank you! I’m glad you like them :) Of course I’m okay with this. I love this idea because while being spoiled sounds nice, there are some people who like spoiling their S/O so I love the idea of reverse, like yes pamper them.

GN! Reader X SKZ

Warnings: Mentions of stress but overall fluff. Reader is rich as hell.

Note: I’m not a gold digger but the reader gives me butterflies, pls sugar daddy/mommy/they me. No but I really liked this idea even though I’m not rich, I still channeled my inner ‘rich bitch’ for this :P . Anyways, as always, if no one told you today, ilyy 🫶

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Chan

You had to find out from the others that he was having a hard day. They were worried about him and now, so were you.

Luckily, you knew a way to help. Even if a bit over the top to others, to you, nothing was too over the top if it was for Chan.

“Hey, did you send the caterers?”

You read his message with a smile, glad to hear they found him without issue.

“Yes. Eat well, my love.”

Chan sent you a picture of all of the food you had catered to him. It was enough to feed him, the boys, and probably the entire building. Not that you saw a problem with that.

“Come eat with me?”

Lee Know

You planned this in private for weeks before their comeback. You knew they’d earn a win, the new album was just too good not to.

You watched the stage confidently, seeing Minho’s smile as their win was announced.

Minho glanced down at you in the audience, his smile remaining as you winked at him.

Once they had left the building, you made your way to where Minho was with the guys and saw they were marveling at the sky.

“What’s going on?” You asked, coming up beside your boyfriend. Minho looked down at you, shaking his head with a smirk. “Don’t act like this isn’t your doing.”

He looked back up at the sky were airplanes were spelling out “Congrats on the win, SKZ.” In clouds of smoke.

Changbin

After all of the hard work he does, you figured he was long overdue of a day of relaxation. You already let the others know that Changbin and be ‘out of commission’ for the entire day, unbeknownst to Changbin, who was only told to keep his schedule clear for this day.

You blind folded him the entire drive to the most luxurious and private spa in the area.

“It smells nice. Where are we?” Changbin asked, gripping your shoulders as he followed your lead. You checked in and turned to remove his blind fold.

“Ah! You didn’t!” Changbin was happy, completely ready to relax— and with you too. You smiled at him, knowing he deserved this.

“I did. You need to destress. Can’t have my Binnie frazzled, now can I?” You took his hand and lead him after the staff, who had begun to lead you to your designated room.

Hyunjin

It pained you to see your boyfriend look so exhausted and stressed most days and you wanted nothing more than for him to just unwind and smile more.

“Oh this looks nice.” Hyunjin showed you a nice— but very much expensive jacket with soft fabric and pretty designs.

“Do you want it?” You asked, lightly feeling the fabric. Hyunjin stared at it a second longer.

“Maybe I’ll get it later.” Hyunjin said. You knew this was his way of saying yes when he wanted something deep down.

So you bought it, along with everything else he looked at, admired, and said ‘maybe later’.

By the end of the day, Hyunjin had clothes, jewelry and other miscellaneous items that cost more than a new car.

Han

Jisung always wore the designer clothes and jewelry you bought him, even going viral for how good he looked wearing them.

“People are speculating whether I’m dating a fashion designer.” Jisung chuckled, reading comments on his phone.

You smirked, looking up from your phone. “That’s pretty flattering.”

Jisung laughed a little louder, reading a few more comments before putting his phone down and moving closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“You have good taste. Are you sure you’re not living a double life?” He asked, mindlessly watching you scroll through your phone.

“It words be easier to get you the exclusives if I were.” You mumbled, putting your phone down. “… Which reminds me.”

Jisung perked up, watching as you pulled out a gift box. He opened it eagerly, seeing a set of rings.

“For your comeback.” You added, watching him try them on. Jisung chuckled, admiring the rings, “almost thought you were proposing ten times.”

Felix

Felix was pulled out of his sleep to a knock on his door in the dorms. Then another knock, followed by Chan’s voice.

“You have a delivery!”

“I’m coming!” Felix grumbled, opening the door to be greeted by a huge bouquet of flowers. He rubbed his eyes before taking the bouquet from Chan and immediately finding the note attached.

“Sorry I’m not able to give these to you myself, I’ll be out of town for the weekend! Here’s beautiful flowers for my sunshine. I hope you have a great day today and I love you.”

His thumb absentmindedly traced over your name signed on the note and smiled widely.

“Ah, typical.” Felix commented under his breath, feeling his heart swell as he reread your words.

Seungmin

Ever since the first gift he’s received from you, he’s made it his mission to gift you back something just as or even more elaborate and you, none the wiser, gift him back, unintentionally entering his ‘gift war’.

It took you months before you realized you were in this war with him. The only reason you found out was because Seungmin accidentally sent you a picture of what he was getting you next, intending to tell Jeongin.

“You know I’m going to win, right?” Seungmin mischievously smiled at you as you both had a gift from each other in front of each other.

“If you win, it’s because I let you.” You started to peel the wrapping paper off of the box. Seungmin followed your actions, scoffing at your statement.

When he opened his gift, he froze in awe, “woah.”

You smiled at his reaction, getting to the gift he got you. You widened your eyes, one hand covering your mouth.

“Woah…”

I.N

You made sure Jeongin’s favorite restaurant was empty, renting it out for just the two of you after the hard week he had.

Jeongin sat across from you, excited and hungry as he plated his meal, the two of you eating.

“Mmm… thank you, this is just as good as I remember!” Jeongin’s taste buds were in heaven from the savory flavors.

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad to see you enjoying yourself.” You ate your own meal, content knowing that the hardships of the past week seemed to melt away.

“You’re the best.” Jeongin eagerly ate, his words sounding muffled from the food in his mouth. You laughed a little, “slow down. Don’t choke!”

[writing-for-marvel]

Blunt Force Trauma

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 6 | Series Masterlist | PART 8 > >

Summary: While out for an unusual date night, Bucky and you witness an emergency.

Warnings: strictly 18+, car accident in which cars plough into storefronts (not involving reader or Bucky), multiple injuries including the drivers of the cars, someone trapped under a car having trouble breathing, description of lacerations, blood, no casualties, Bucky doubting himself and being insecure, discussion of money/disparity in wages, John Walker because he is always a warning

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: a BIG thank you to @skittle479 who gave me the inspiration for this part, I hope I did your idea justice darling ❤️ I apologise if this is a little rusty, I haven’t been writing consistently for a little while. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky usually feels adept and influential sitting in the front seat of an ambulance, uniform proudly donned with the badge above his heart, perched higher than most of the traffic and capable of speeding past with sirens blaring whenever required.

But when John Walker sits beside him in the driver's seat, all he feels is agitation.

“You got any plans this weekend?” His annoyingly snarky voice fills the otherwise silent cabin as they pull up to a red light.

“Yeah, I’m taking my girlfriend to see the new Barbie movie on our mutual day off. And then probably just grab some food afterwards.” Bucky tries keeping his answer short and to the point, not wishing to divulge any more information than he needs to fundamentally answer the question without being rude, nor the giddy fluttering of his heart at referring to you as his girlfriend.

Not only does John Walker have a reputation of doing a rushed job in the field, with somehow thinking his skills are far superior to anyone else in the force, but he is also too nosy for his own good and incapable of keeping topics discussed in confidence to himself.

Steve’s learnt that lesson a few times.

“Dinner and a movie?” The inflection of John’s voice makes it seem like a query, but it’s muttered under his breath in what Bucky would classify as an almost disgusted tone.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“Just that… she’s a doctor right?” The intonation of John’s question has doubt settling like led in the pit of Bucky’s stomach. That there is inherently something erroneous about a paramedic like him being with a doctor like you.

“Yes.” He confirms without questioning how John even knows that information given Bucky has never mentioned directly to him who you are or what you do for a living.

“Well don’t you think she’ll be after something a little more… upmarket than dinner and a movie? She’ll be friends with other doctors and surgeons at the hospital, they’ll be able to afford fancy dinners in the best part of town, seeing expensive shows, musicals, operas that cost a hell of a lot more than seeing a movie. Girls wanna be treated like princesses, not some commoner.”

Bucky’s heart drops. He specifically remembers you telling him about how for every date night Wanda and her new boyfriend, an anaesthesiologist, try out another lavishly expensive restaurant in the richest part of the city.

Was that you dropping hints that’s where you wanted him to take you for date night? Is he greatly disappointing you by instead taking you on such a generic date?

He hates to let anything John tells him get under his skin, but maybe he has a good point in this instance…

Of course you deserve far better than something so plain, but Bucky doesn’t have the savings to be able to take you to Michelin star restaurants that charge exorbitant prices for such small servings.

But if he doesn’t do this, at least once, will it be the reason you leave him? Will you want someone who earns more money than he does and can spoil you like the queen you are. He has no experience in this area, no real idea about what it takes to keep a partner happy in a relationship, and he knows John is, at least from the outside, happily married.

“I guess I could try something more upmarket.” Bucky suggests, though he’s not thoroughly convinced. You’ve never once expressed this is something you want, but perhaps it’s one of those parts of a relationship you want the other to take control of without needing to convey out loud. That directly telling him defeats the purpose all together.

He supposes that once you’ve spent a couple months with someone you need to shake things up to keep it interesting. Besides his bank account, there really is no downside to treating you both to an extravagant night out.

“I’m telling you man, you won’t regret it.”

They continue on with their shift in complete silence, Bucky’s mind churning with gears of insecurity and reservation.

He loves you and he sure as hell doesn’t want to fuck this up before he finally gains the courage to tell you.

* * *

“Can’t you give me a hint of where we’re going?”

Bucky’s fingers are interlocked with yours as you casually stroll down the sidewalk. You’re in a much fancier part of town than you’ve ever been to together before, and all of a sudden the informal pink dress you chose to wear to the earlier showing of Barbie Bucky treated you to makes you feel underdressed and completely out of place.

“We’re almost there, but I want it to be a surprise!” Bucky kisses the back of your intertwined hand, but you sense from the stiffness in his broad shoulders that even though he’s by your side, he doesn’t quite feel comfortable here either.

It’s only a short walk before Bucky stops outside a sleek restaurant where a group of smartly dressed patrons are queuing for entry. The waiters are dressed in black pants, white shirts with bow ties, and velvet vests - which gives away how high end the place is before you even have a chance to glance at the prices on the menus.

“I’m sorry I can’t take you anywhere fancier, I know Wanda and Vis keep trying all these upmarket restaurants…” His intentions for taking you to this part of town become as apparent as a lightbulb turning on in pitch darkness.

You place a delicate hand on his cheek to direct his uncertain gaze to your own. He looks like a nervous puppy.

“Bucky, it isn’t how expensive the restaurant is, it’s the fact that we’re together that’s important. You could take me to McDonalds and I wouldn’t care because I’d be with you.” You emphasise the end of your sentence, wiping your thumb across his cheek affectionately as his eyes brim with both hesitation and tenderness.

“Are you sure? Is this one of the things girls say but they actually mean the opposite?”

There have been a few fleeting occasions in your relationship with Bucky where you’ve seen glimpses of an inexperienced, naive and slightly insecure man who is navigating his first long term relationship. This is one of those moments and all you want is to eliminate all wavering doubt swirling in his mind.

It’s honestly endearing how sweet he is. You’re sure the only reason he is anxious is because he cares so much.

“Bucky, who’s gotten into your head?” You ask, shaking your own. You’re sure neither his best friend nor his mother is responsible for this line of thinking. “I promise you, I don’t need you to spend an entire paycheck on a single dinner at a restaurant where I can’t tell the difference between their cheapest and most expensive bottles of wine. And remember I’m only a couple years out of med school, I’m still drowning in years of student loans. All I care about is spending time with you.”

“You really mean that? You’re not just saying that to be nice cause I can’t afford pricey places like the anaesthesiologists and surgeons at the hospital can.” Your heart drops below your stomach. The concept that Bucky thinks you would ever want anyone other than him, simply because they happen to make more money, has the centre of your chest aching and makes the corners of your eyes prickle with tears.

“James, I care about you so much.” You declare, standing on your tiptoes and kissing him gently. “And that has absolutely nothing to do with the number that’s written on the bottom of your paycheck. One of the reasons I initially fell for you was seeing how you interacted with Sasha in the ER - no anaesthesiologist or surgeon I know has shown that kind of rapport with a patient.”

The smile tugging at the corners of his mouth abates the sting punching your chest.

“Really?”

“Mhmm. You’re one of a kind baby. Please don’t you ever doubt that you are the one for me.” You affirm as you thread your arms around his waist, placing a delicate kiss on the underside of his jaw.

There are tears in Bucky’s eyes he’s trying, and failing, to conceal. He looks in absolute disbelief, but as he gazes down at you, you could so easily be fooled into believing there is also so much love in his eyes.

“You are-, I am so-” You wait in anxious anticipation as he stutters.

Is this it?

Is Bucky finally about to say those three magical words you have been dying to hear for the past few weeks? That overwhelming feeling of pure love and adoration you feel for him and so desperately wish he reciprocates.

But before he is able to finish his sentence, you hear a vehicle’s tyres skidding along asphalt and two consecutive, deafening crashes sound close by, startling you.

You feel the ground shake violently and Bucky’s arms instinctively fly around your head and pull you into his chest in what you can only assume is an attempt to protect you from flying debris.

Before your mind can comprehend what on earth just happened and even look towards the origin of the booming impact, Bucky’s set off at a sprint, launching himself directly into action.

Once your brain is able to catch up to what your eyes are seeing - two cars, who potentially swerved to miss each other, ploughed through the shopfronts of two different restaurants only a couple stores away from where you are standing - you feel a surge of adrenaline in your chest and you begin a chase after Bucky, the screams of onlookers the soundtrack as you assess the scene.

You’ve seen some horrible and gory injuries during your time as an emergency medicine resident, but you’ve never seen it as raw and gruesome as you do right now in the field for the first time. It’s dedicated paramedics and EMTs like Bucky who do the initial triage, treatment and transport so that the patient arrives at the ER in the best possible condition. Seeing the carnage here, is confronting.

When you reach the incident, wails of pain fill the air, shattered glass covers the concrete ground and panic clenches tightly in your stomach. You first notice the driver of the car, dazed at the wheel, the airbag having cushioned his impact.

“You!” Calling out to a young man seemingly unharmed but immobilised with fear, you point to him and continue. “Call an ambulance.”

Seeing him fumble to pull his phone out of his pocket, your attention switches back to the inside of the car.

“Sir, try not to move. You’ve been in an accident.” You advise as your hands fly out to keep the man inside the car, groaning in pain as he turns to exit the vehicle. Reaching across him, careful not to move his position or cause him any pain, you put on the handbrake, shift the car into park and remove the keys from the ignition. “I’m a doctor, please try to keep your neck still.”

You do a quick assessment, his breathing is quick and shallow, but most of his impact seems to have been absorbed by the airbag. He has no signs of external bleeding, though you are concerned about internal bleeding as well as whiplash and other head and neck injuries.

“Can you help me?” You ask the man who you had instructed to call an ambulance. He rushes over despite his hesitation earlier. “I need you to keep this man’s head still, hand on either side of his face, just like this, making sure he doesn’t twist his neck. Keep him awake and talking, and scream out to me if he loses consciousness.”

In the chaos and mayhem of the scene you’ve lost sight of Bucky. He’s no doubt somewhere close by providing medical assistance, probably at the other restaurant doing exactly what you are here.

Inside the restaurant the air smells of engine fuel, powdered plaster and metallic blood. It’s encouraging to see those that are unharmed lend assistance to those injured and in pain.

Your eye catches a lady in a blue pantsuit lying on the ground, back against an overturned table, face contorting in excruciating pain as she grips both hands onto her trembling leg. Her suit has ripped open and you can see a long laceration through the muscle of her thigh weeping blood. A man beside her has a look of pure terror in his eye, wavering hands unsure of what to do in this situation.

“Wrap a tourniquet around her leg above the laceration, as tight as you can!” You direct as you notice a patient out of the corner of your eye, closer to the car in far greater need of your assistance, your heart squeezing in terror and the pool of blood growing slowly bigger each second before you get to him. When you see her friend's mouth open in question you continue. “Your jacket, the tablecloth, anything you can tie tightly!”

Rushing over to the underside of the front of the car, you observe a young man in a waiter's uniform trapped between the car, ground and the rubble of the shopfront displaced by the force of the car. Your hands fly to apply pressure on his chest wound, the source of the pool of blood surrounding him.

“Help me.” He wheezes, his eyes dilated, alarmed in a life threatening way you’re unfortunately used to seeing having worked in emergency medicine.

“I’m a doctor and I’m here to help. I know you're in pain but I have to put pressure to quell the bleeding. Try taking a deep breath for me.” He tries to do as you request but all he is capable of is panting in short, shallow breaths. The already terrified young man starts hyperventilating when he realises that he can’t use the full capacity of his lungs.

“What’s your name?” You ask, feigning a calm smile, trying to distract him in any way you can from his current predicament.

“Noah.” He can barely get the sound out, and you intuitively press down harder on his chest, feeling warm liquid trickle through your fingers.

“Noah, I am going to get you out of here. Just hang on for me.” You look around at the resources available to you, stomach churning knowing there’s nothing within reach which can assist.

Your gaze rises to those who still remain in the restaurant, but everyone else is tending to other victims, until a familiar face rushes into view.

“Bucky!” You call out and his eyes instantly meet yours, concern flooding out of those baby blues as he swivels to the sound of your voice. Having him beside you brings a buoyant relief to your chest, despite the gravity of the situation. “We need to get the car off him. He can’t breathe.”

As if Bucky hadn’t heard you, he rushes out of the restaurant. Fear replaces any alleviation you felt, believing you are now truly alone to do what you can for Noah.

You can’t lift a car by yourself.

Especially considering you’ve also got to keep pressure on his seeping wound to ensure he doesn’t bleed out in front of your eyes.

You don’t want to feel completely hopeless with this young man’s life literally in your hands. But unless you get some help soon, you know he doesn’t stand a chance.

“Paramedics will be here soon. Just hang on for me. Keep your eyes open. I’m sure you have someone in this world you love - your mom, dad, maybe a partner, your best friend. They’ll want you to fight so you can see them again. I know it hurts but you stay with me. You got someone in mind?” He nods in response to your question, a ghost of a smile appearing on his features and you know unequivocally this boy has experienced some form of love.

You think of Bucky, that if you were in a life threatening situation, he’d be the one you fought to stay alive for. To tell him you love him. To kiss him again, to hold him in your arms and revel in the solace he provides you.

Out of nowhere, as if your imagination of him conjured him next to you, Bucky appears by your side, sweat mixed with dirt on his forehead. He flashes you his signature smirk as he places a scissor car jack beneath the rocker panel near the front tyre.

He’s an absolute genius.

How did you ever doubt him?

Bucky carefully, yet quickly, starts turning the handle and jacking up the car. You immediately see the alleviation on Noah’s face as he takes a slightly deeper breath, but in turn you need to apply even more pressure to his wound, the force of the car on him having previously done part of your job for you.

“We need to move him, in case the jack slips.”

Bucky steadies Noah’s head as you both manoeuvre him away from under the car by placing a detached, flat tabletop beneath his back. As you perform the action, you hear sirens approaching.

Help has arrived.

“Bucky, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” It’s Steve’s voice behind you, and you sigh in relief at seeing Bucky’s best friend on scene.

“He was trapped under the car, a penetrating wound to the abdomen, crushing injuries to the chest, and a potential pneumothorax. Breathing is shallow and his pulse is weak.” You list off, maintaining pressure on Noah’s abdomen as Bucky, Steve and the other paramedic you’ve seen around the ER shift him onto a yellow spinal board.

You refuse to move from your position as they load Noah into the ambulance, knowing releasing your pressure even for a moment could result in catastrophic blood loss.

Bucky hops into the back of the ambulance behind you, placing a small kiss to the back of your shoulder when Steve isn’t looking. You flash him a sweet smile that makes his stomach somersault and forget for a moment that he’s in an ambulance on his day off.

“Bucky, not in front of a patient.” You bashfully protest, but he just can’t help himself. His chest burst with pride at seeing how natural you were out in the field, saving lives even on your day off.

“Y’all probably saved my life, you can do whatever you want.” The young man mutters breathlessly with a smile.

Though Bucky wants to kiss your shoulder again, you made a point of not wanting him to do so in this scenario, so he refrains. He’ll just wait until you’re alone tonight to show his awe of you, and maybe find the courage to finally tell you he loves you as he was attempting to outside of the restaurant before the incident.

Once inside the hospital, the additional staff ensure Noah can be transferred safely, Steve having radioed ahead so they could prepare for the severity of his injuries. Wanda is one of the faces who assist with the handover, starting a blood transfusion right away before Noah is whisked away towards the surgical wing.

“They’ve got it from here guys, thanks to you Noah should be okay after a fairly routine surgery. Go enjoy the rest of your date.” Wanda comments as she not so subtly shoots you a quick wink. It’s only then, when Bucky realises both your jobs are finally complete, does he recognise he is indeed exhausted.

You turn to him and flash an equally tired smile, which, even in the face of how your night ended up, makes him feel like he’s floating on a cloud.

“Let’s go home, yeah? I’m beat and have to be back here in like 9 hours.” You chuckle and the sound is music to Bucky's ears. He swears that sound alone sustains him.

How did he get so lucky?

“Yeah… home.” Bucky murmurs, placing a kiss to your hairline which Wanda notices out of the corner of her eye with a smile.

You don’t clarify where home is. Your place? His place? You simply take his hand in your own and walk out of the hospital. But it doesn’t matter where you’re going, because to Bucky, home is wherever you are.

Part 8 > >

Be added to the taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet

[arctophyllax]

*clears throat* why I think Larian should let us recruit Zevlor:

More people are desperate for Zevlor than I thought at first. We all want to see him happy. We all want him to get all that he deserves and more. He just has SO much potential, he’s such a well written character just for his story to get cut off so suddenly? Thinking about how badly his story was neglected by Larian after they made us so attached breaks my heart. Of all side characters we met along the acts he is undeniably one of the most important and memorable ones; we fought for him, we saved him, we helped him, hells we even get the option to reject his payment for us for helping him and his people.

We practically got nothing out of helping him, especially the ones who reject his payments and i find myself rejecting the payment every single playthrough because i can’t find it in my heart to take something away from people who have nothing left already. If you betray the tieflings you get Minthara- and yes that may cost you certain companions too, but wouldn’t it be fair to be able to have Zevlor at camp if we save his people? At least after we save him in act 2? That way it would still be optional but god I need him so badly, I need to see him happy, I need Larian to let me look after him and take care of him and make sure that he doesn’t drown in sorrow and I know everyone who reads this feels exactly the same.

He went through so much, and every time his hope returned it got shattered to bits again. And it just feels like we’re forced to “give up” on him after we let him wander away in act 2. It doesn’t feel right. It will never feel right. We saw how miserable he was in that pod, how distressed and in pain he was. Common sense would have told us to take him with us. Make sure he fucking survives the night without doing anything stupid. Clean him off the blood and clean him off his worries, all that self hatred.

God, do I so hate to see him in such distress. And while a tiny part of me believes that death might have actually been a small mercy for him I was and will never be ready to give up on him.

Every time I see him on that damned screen, every time he speaks and every time I witness him interact with someone I DON’T see an oathbreaker who failed his people and had to be saved from being consumed by the Absolute. All I see is a competent leader who carries a burden not meant to be carried by one person alone.

This has nothing to do with him being weak. This has nothing to to with him being incompetent or not careful enough. This has nothing to do with any lost faith or broken oath. This has to do with the fact that he is so selfless that he wouldn’t allow himself to share this burden with anyone.

Yes he has (had?) his fellow tieflings, he has Tilses right beside him all of the time. But did he ever open up to her? Does he ever accept any help from his own people while he knows that they are already suffering? Would he EVER allow ANY of these people to carry even a SLIVER of his burden?

No. He would not. He would NEVER let them bear any of those duties, he has seen them in way too much pain already, seen them suffer far too often.

He is the type who gives and gives and gives and he never takes. He doesn’t know how to take, take anything positive.

His past, his comrades, his Hellriders- yes he had them. They gave him as much as he gave them. But they got torn away from him, cruelly and mercilessly.

His people, the refugees, family- he had them. And they gave him the respect and admiration he deserved. But they got torn away from him. Cruelly. Mercilessly.

His saviour, us, Tav- he had us. But we left him. Because we had no choice. We watched him walk of as though it was nothing. Cruelly. Because we could do nothing else.

And yes, I will always see red at that. Because we SHOULD be able to do better. We shouldn’t be just another loss for him.

And I will personally fistfight Larian if it meant hope for just a single chance at giving Zevlor what he never allowed himself to have: stability, encouragement. Someone he can rely on and share his burden with. A rest. Peace.

(Larian do you hear me I am under your bed we are going to fight)

(Scratch would like him to stay at camp, too)

(And what Scratch wants, Scratch gets. Right?)

(No because when you talk to Scratch the second time at camp during the tiefling party he actually says that he wouldn’t mind if you kept the tieflings at camp… trust me, Scratch, i wouldn’t mind either)

…I’d honestly die for him who’s with me

[mischiefmaker615]

Purrfect

Rating: PG-14

Summary: There was something very strange and familiar with the cat you decided to take in..

Requested by: @Laer111ee

‘’I swear- every time I’m here, that cat is always starring at you..its kinda creepy’’

Your best friend turns your attention over to the couch where the black cat perched in an almost to-proper position with its striking and.. intense green eyes looking into your soul. Its tail flicked ever so slightly and even with the door open to your apartment where you both stood, he didn’t make a single move to dash out. Looking back at your friend, you merely shook your head with a light laugh and a wave of the hand.

‘’you mean every time as in aka, a week? He probably needs more time to adjust or something, he might be to scared to move much.’’

‘’well in any case, perhaps he would be a good source of comfort since ..what happened today..’’ her light demeanor changed back to concern as she grasped your hand. ‘’are you sure you don’t want me spending the night?.. I hate leaving you feeling like this.’’

You shook your head with your face doing a good job at hiding your held-back emotional state. ‘’I’ll be fine, really. My boss is just being an asshole, nothing new.’’

‘’yeah but.. he can’t possibly think you can do all that stuff by yourself.. not without going crazy with stress and-‘’

‘’I can handle it, promise’’ you reassured her, masking your irritation of the topic as she sighed and nodded, taking a step back with a small wave.

‘’okay.. I’ll see you next week then Y/N, take care of yourself..’’ she smiled before you finally closed the door.

Taking a deep breath, you rested your forehead on the door with your eyes closed, trying to keep your mind from going there; but it did. The tears began to fall as you thought of the turn of events that unfolded in such a short amount of time, you never really got a chance to process it until now. Avoiding the situation entirely was easy.. but not when your alone with your mind.

Your boss lost a lot of employees already from various reasons, so not only do you have to cover all of their shifts and work, but he decides to degrade you for not getting things done fast enough or well enough.. quit? With what other job? bills are a thing in this world and this world is an expensive place. You could handle the work if you really push yourself.. hard.. but the way he humiliated and treated you was your tipping point. It was good money though.. but at what cost now.. your mental state.

You punched at the door, pretending it was him before turning your back on it and heading to your room. Not even bothering to plop on the bed, you sat on the ground against it with your knees to your chest, burying your face as you cried.

‘’why do you cry love?”

The low, silky voice came out of no where, causing you to look up to find its source and got pierced with a familiar gaze. A man with pale skin, raven black hair and an attire containing a mix of green, black and gold gazed upon you with a concerned look on his face. His striking blue eyes dared you to lie at him and something from the stare alone seemed.. recognizable somehow.

How the hell did he get in, you didn’t know. Who the hell he was, you couldn’t tell yourself either- no matter how familiar he seemed to be. Most of these questions didn’t bother to leave your lips as they parted with silence. For some reason, you felt no danger from the strange man before you- perhaps you were trying to process his question rather than wonder why he didn’t threaten you for money or whatever.

‘’why do i.. what?’’ you stutter out, already feeling like an idiot as your fingers gripped the carpet beside you, trying to shy away from him.

‘’you weep with deep emotion darling and you seem to be in fine health so my only conclusion would be that someone out there had to have hurt you. At least, from what I pieced together from what your friend was saying.’’ He explained, his voice gentle as his eyes never left yours as he remained in his crouched position before you.

‘’my.. friend?- how could you possibly know- why do you even-‘’

‘’care?’’ he finished your sentence with a smirk and sighed as he seemed to study your features, his eyes slipping down below your neck once or twice before flicking up to your orbs again. ‘’because in my low moment about a week ago up to now, you’ve shown me kindness. Its only right if I show you the same.’’

You blinked at him as you tried to understand what he was saying. You.. helped him for a week? He over heard your friend.. that gaze looked to damn familiar- no.. he couldn’t possibly.. but his smirk seemed to show that he understood what you were thinking. ‘’your-‘’

‘’I believe you’ve called me by the name of ‘cat’, but if you wish a proper name, Loki will do just fine.’’

‘’Loki..’’ you breathed as you slowly raised a hand and wiped your cheeks, almost embarrassed at how you presented yourself while your mind tried to process that he was the very creature that you had been caring for for about a week. At least you had that much time to process since it was clear that this.. rather attractive man was not here to harm you- he probably already would have if that was his intention. ‘’being shown kindness honestly won’t help right now unless you plan on killing my boss.’’ You say with mild sarcasm but your body tensed when Loki nodded.

‘’that shouldn’t be a problem-‘’

‘’no!- I mean.. that won’t be necessary.. even if that bastard deserves a little pain..’’ you sigh and look away from him.

‘’what may I be able to do then love?’’ he said gently, a hand slowly moving to your chin to turn your face to look at him again, movements slow as to not spook you.

Gods his eyes were gorgeous.. ‘’nothing unless you know of a way to help me forget..’’ you sigh, your eyes threaten to tear up over the sensitive topic you tried so hard to ignore before your body froze.

His lips were soft as they suddenly and very gently pressed against yours. His hand remained on your chin while the other supported himself as he leaned forward against your knees that prevented him from getting closer, so he worked with what he could get at. The sudden action made your mind blank, focusing on only feeling as your eyes slowly closed and told yourself this had to be a dream. An emotional overload that left you exhausted and dreaming realistic scenes that couldn’t take place in real life.. which is why you kissed back. Hell, if this was a dream, then why not enjoy it. because.. come on, your cat becoming a person.. there was no way in hell..

You feel Loki’s slender hands rest against your knees as he used gentle pressure to begin spreading them, his thumbs rubbing pointless circles as he deepened the kiss by being able to lean forward more before he pulled away briefly with his forehead pressed against yours.

‘’I might not be able to help you forget entirely, but allow me to help you forget for at least a blissful moment..’’ he breathed, his eyes studying yours with a hushed tone before his lips took yours in a more passionate kiss. He kissed you, ready to stop if you wanted him to but you made no moves to stop him.

He was right, and it was working. Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs parted for him to move closer, his arm snaking around your waist while his other ran down your side and down the side of your thigh to pull your leg against his waist. His tongue ran across your bottom lip and you were happy to oblige before he soon had his tongue massaging yours.

Moaning against his mouth, you felt your body relax against his while your hands ran down his chest, fingers studying and trying to figure out how to find an opening to his labyrinth of an outfit before you felt him smile against your lips. You resisted the urge to whine but pulled away enough to give him pleading eyes.

‘’alright darling, only because you asked so nicely..’’ he teased with his voice almost above a whisper before a bright green seemed to sparkle over the both of you. You almost felt a tickle before you looked down at the both of you once the light was gone, to find you both in your under garments and Loki’s eyes already drinking in your beautiful body with hunger.

Your eyes flicked up to his with slight nervousness but enough confidence to want this while your arms wrapped around his neck ‘’help me forget..’’ you whispered and his arms lifted you up onto the bed.

‘’as you wish darling..’’

~

Your eyes snapped open to sudden alertness, your body even flinching as if someone shook you awake.. but no one was there. You could tell you were on your stomach, in bed, with the morning sun peaking through your blinds and into your eyes. The bright light made you turn your body away only to freeze when your whole body told you you were sore.

‘holy hell what a dream..’ you thought as you winced a little and switched to laying on your back. Perhaps you were just sore from all the work you had to do- no thanks to your boss.. but at the same time, you felt well rested. Definitely not a result that would stem from your boss.

You brushed your hair more out of your face and sighed. You have never had an amazing dream like that before, it being over only made you disappointed to have to get up. If it were possible to go back to sleep and back to that dream, you’d stay in bed all day. Wait-

Your hands clutched the sheet around you out of instinct, finding yourself naked. You never slept like that.. Trying to piece things properly together and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you turned to make a move out of bed only to squeak out of surprise when you saw the cat you rescued stayed perched on your nightstand, watching you.

‘’..hello cat..’’ you said hesitantly, keeping the sheet closer to you as you stayed put before your brow raised. Didn’t that cat have green eyes before? ..not blue..

Leaning forward, you examined the cat closer that watched you with a calm manor and didn’t move an inch as you gently ran a hand against its head. ‘’..Loki?’’ you whispered, almost feeling silly to try to ask its name but it was worth a try right? What made your hand draw back with widened eyes was when it’s eyes suddenly changed color to the familiar green..

And licked its lips.

[y0ur-loca1-lyr3]

A/N; So there was an anonymous person who had requested a my hero academia x a rude reader who opens up overtime, but unfortunately my dumbass accidentally posted it while it wasn’t ready so anon whoever you are I hope you find this and I hope you like it! Since they didn’t specify I decided to do a little bit for every character I write! (Except for Eri since I only write platonic fics for her)

My Hero Academia x reader who’s rude at first, but opens up later on

Izuku

He kinda interacts with you how he would with Bakugo at first

Is also probably scared half to death by you

Avoids you at all costs at first

Honestly he thinks you hate him until you clear up that you don’t

After that, when you begin to open up, he genuinely likes talking with you

If he can get the courage, he’ll probably ask if you wanna hang out somewhere to get to know each other, and hell, maybe the two of you can get closer than you thought you would <3

Bakugo

He likes your spunk

Honestly, he actually really likes that you’ve got the balls to talk back to him

Would probably wanna spar with you a lot if your also a hero in training

It’s easier for him to make friends with you because of the fact that you guys are so similar

When you open up, so does he

And when that happens it’s just sorta a rare vulnerable moment for the both of you

He trusts you a lot. Don’t break that trust.

Todoroki

At first he didn’t like you

You remind him too much of Bakugo

Too negative, too cynical

He generally doesn’t speak to you

Until you accidentally hurt Uraraka’s feelings on accident

He asks you what the hell’s your problem, which is followed by a lecture about how you’ve gotta fix your attitude

When you apologize to Uraraka and explain you really didn’t actually mean to hurt anyone, he calms down

He does his best to understand why you might not open up so easy, for whatever reason

From then on, you, Todoroki, and Uraraka are a pretty close friend group

Yes, Uraraka ships the two of you

Aizawa

He gets it

He’s had tough students before, and even if you aren’t his student, you’re no different

When the two of you go on a mission together, he explains that you two need to work together, which means trusting each other

He asks if you would at the very least trust him to save you to which you say yes

When the villains in cuffs, he compliments you on your skills, and then walks off

From then on there was just some sort of close unspoken bond

What that bond is? Who knows?

Dabi

Again, nothing new.

He has to deal with Shigaraki, you think you’re a hassle?

Beside that though, he actually likes you

You’re humor matches his, and he gets not wanting to appear weak in front of others

Once you two grow close enough, he’ll subtly check up on you when your sad, keep note of what your favorite food or drink is, and especially your eye color

The little things, you know? <3

Shigaraki

Exact opposite of Dabi

Has a temper tantrum the first time you talk back

Yes, he did infact try to obliterate you

He failed, and then he cried

After that little outburst he calms down

He still doesn’t like you

And yet there’s still that odd lingering tension in the air?…

Uraraka

Similar to Izuku, she thinks you hate her

Rather than cowering like Izuku does, though, she confronts you about it

Once everything is cleared up, she’ll talk to you in passing the halls

At some point she’ll start inviting you to the mall

And no she doesn’t care what gender you are, you’re being glamorized, and yes, Mina is going to be joining in on it

Overall a very fun person to hang out with, and a now close friend (maybe more???)

Denki

Poor boy can’t take an insult at all

He’ll act like it’s whatever and then pout about it in his room

Why we’re you so damn mean? Did you just not wanna be friends?

Well now he’s determined to be friends with you

Gifts, outings, compliments, you name it

Once you actually tell him you consider him a friend, he’s so excited

Will not stop smiling the rest of the day, and can’t get rid of that weird flutter in his stomach

Kirishima

He’s used to Bakugo being like this, so he’s used to you being like this

If you choose to insult him, he’s learned how to filter real vs fake insults, so he’ll laugh it off, and continue talking with you

He doesn’t mind carrying the conversation, as long as you’re not bored, he’ll rant his little heart out

He’ll happily spar with you to relieve some stress if you ask

He’ll also give sparring tips while sparring with you/ if you ask

Would absolutely love a gym buddy to hang with <3

Jirou

Meh.

She just doesn’t really care for you at first

She’ll talk to you if necessary and laugh at your sarcastic jokes, but other than that she doesn’t really socialize with you much

Until she realizes you and her like the same band that it feels like no one knows

Will talk about music for hours

Eventually she’ll grow close to you, and you guys become good friends

Maybe if you ask she’ll even teach you guitar

Unfortunately, I’ll have to do a part 2, but that will be out in only a matter of time! Stay tuned!

With love and kisses,

- y0urloca1lyr3

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER SIX: "You Deserve To Be Happy"

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Foggy has a bone to pick with his best friend, and you decide to call Matt later that night.

Warnings for this chapter: attempt at humor, slight (very slight) angst, Matt's POV, mentions of sex, suggestive language, flirting, Matt being Matt

Word Count: 3.2k

A/n: I finally finished this chapter. I had more planned, but that would have made the whole thing too confusing. I also realized that I suck at finding the right chapter titles, but oh well. Enjoy this little fluff piece!

Read Chapter 6: "You Deserve To Be Happy" here on AO3

The air is brisk when Foggy and Matt step out of Metro General and into the night. Pieces of gravel stick to Matt’s shoes, and he can feel them digging into his skin through the thin soles protecting his feet from the wet asphalt. The wind resembles a leather whip as it brushes his heated cheeks. He can smell the odor of the city in every breath he takes.

Matt may hate hospitals, but every time he talks to you, the world turns a little quieter. All he has to do was focus on your heartbeat, the faintest hint of vanilla and salt that always lingers on your skin, and listen to the gentle melody of your breathing—your voice builds a bubble of safety around him, but now that he is no longer standing right in front of you, reality begins to seep back in. 

Foggy, whose arm he’s clutching as they make their way across the street, stares at Matt with eyes the size of dinner plates. Matt can feel his gaze burning through the skin protecting his skull, right into his brain. His friend is trying to decipher what he’s thinking, but he struggles to process what happened in the past thirty minutes and what on earth caused him to behave the way he did. 

The thought of you must have possessed him, he’s sure of that. You, and you alone. You were right there in front of him, and the part of him that craved some sense of normal took over when all he wanted was to stay away and forget this day ever happened. 

Does he regret it? Matt wants to, but his chest hasn’t felt this light in a very long time. The truth is that the tiniest selfish part of him, the part of him that is a born masochist, wants to see you again. He wants to see you again because he knows that it will inevitably hurt him in the long run. Good things don’t happen to him without a cost. Though, when he thinks about it, he might as well end up hurting you, and he would never forgive himself if that were to happen. 

He’s conflicted, but he’s also oddly happy. He’s excited. He feels… giddy. It’s a feeling he isn’t too familiar with, and he still has to decide whether or not he likes it. It is a contrast to the constant self-loathing and the darkness that surrounds him. 

Foggy finally finds his voice again on the other side of the sidewalk. “Dude!” he says. 

Matt flinches at his voice in his ear. “Foggy,” he warns. 

“Dude!” he repeats, stopping to grab his friend’s arm. 

“Foggy, don’t,” says Matt. 

He can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. If he sees him blush like a schoolboy with a crush, he will never hear the end of it. But after what Foggy witnessed back at the hospital, he is already one step ahead of his desperate attempts to prevent a tirade of endless teasing.

Foggy shakes his head. “What the hell was that?!” 

“Listen–”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot doctor friend that you met while I was dying?”

“Okay, Foggy, you weren’t dying, you dislocated your shoulder. And besides, how would I even know if she’s hot?”

“You always know! I don’t know if you can smell it, or–or if you have a built-in radar for attractive women with questionable morals, or if you just attract them because you’re a very good-looking guy. Either way, it’s not fair.” Foggy groans. “God, if you could’ve seen how she looked at you, Matt,” he says. “I don’t know if I should be jealous or impressed.”

Matt opens his mouth to respond, but he breaks off into an awkward chuckle instead. The blood in his cheeks has spread, and he knows for a fact that his entire face is red. Thankfully, it’s too dark for Foggy to notice. His ears perked up when he mentioned the way you looked at him, even though it shouldn’t matter to him. He knows you are beautiful because he sees you in a way someone with functioning eyesight could never, but he can’t explain that to anyone. He knows, and that’s enough. 

“She stepped in front of a gun for a stranger who was high off his ass,” Foggy adds. “Who does that other than people with a death wish? Oh, and did I mention that you literally made her swoon after someone punched her in the face? She couldn’t take her eyes off you.”

“Foggy,” Matt tries to stop him again. 

“No,” he says. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought I was your best friend. Your wingman. The Maverick to your Goose. I deserve to hear all about your crazy love life! Especially if it’s a hot doctor who jumps in front of guns.”

“I–uh–” One hand clutches his cane while the other reaches to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Look, she patched up that bump on my head last week while you were getting your shoulder X-rayed, alright? We talked, but that’s it. I didn’t think it was important.”

“And you didn’t think a stranger offering to patch the reminder of your clumsiness up for free would be worth mentioning to your best friend?”

“She’s a doctor, Foggy.”

“A hot doctor who looked like she was undressing you with her eyes,” Foggy retorts. 

Matt groans. “And how was I supposed to know that?”

“I don’t know. I told you, you always know. It’s fucking creepy.”

His groan turns into an exasperated sigh. “Can we just… walk?” he asks. 

Foggy nods. He offers his arm, and Matt takes it gladly. His cane taps in a steady rhythm against the asphalt. The gravel underneath his shoes is still stuck there. 

He’s not sure why it agitates him so much that Foggy is talking about you as if you are comparable to other women. You’re not. You’re in a league of your own, one that Matt isn’t sure he could ever reach. And you’re different. 

Everywhere he goes, Matt encounters a variety of personalities, a lot of which he comes across often. While that’s not a bad thing, he tends to tune out those who overwhelm him for the sake of his sanity. Your personality can’t be sorted into a category. You’re unique enough to stand out from a crowd. Matt can’t put his finger on it. 

Foggy can think of you what he wants, but he will never experience you the way Matt does.

“You think she’s gonna call?” Foggy asks into the silence that had settled in between the two of them. 

Matt shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. 

“Do you want her to?”

For a moment, he’s rendered speechless. That’s the dilemma, isn’t it? Whether he wants you to call or not? It would be so much easier if he could just be honest. 

“I don’t know,” Matt says again. 

“I think you do,” Foggy answers. “You two would make a hot couple.” Sometimes, his mouth is faster than his brain. “Not in an “I want a threesome” kinda way, of course. That’s not—I mean, you’re a very good-looking guy. I’d think that if I were, you know, a woman or- or into you, which I’m not, but... I meant ‘cause she’s hot and you two together—well, you know what I mean.”

“If I say yes, can we talk about something else?”

“No, dude. I’m invested.”

“Liv isn’t… it’s not like that.”

“It’s never like that with you, Matt. Until two days later, and I walk in on you two naked with a bottle of whipped cream on your nightstand, and her name written in melted chocolate on your back.”

“Okay,” Matt interrupts him, “that was–” He tries hard not to smirk, but he fails miserably, “that was one time!” 

Foggy shakes his head. “One too many, my friend. One too freakin’ many.”

“To be fair, I couldn’t see what she was doing.”

“I’m just saying,” Foggy says, “if you decide to go for it with Miss I-Jump-In-Front-Of-Guns-For-Fun, I wanna know so I can hype you up and make sure that I don’t barge into your apartment unannounced on a Friday night, at least not without a bottle of bleach to burn the pictures out of my head.”

His chuckle resembles a giggle when he opens his mouth to respond, “Alright, I can, uh, live with that.”

“Hey.” Matt can feel Foggy’s eyes on him. “You deserve to be happy, man.”

That wipes the smile off his face. Happy. He can’t remember a time when he was truly happy. The few times he was can be counted on one hand, and every time he found himself in a place of happiness, it ended up shattering like a fragile wine glass, spilling the maroon contents everywhere and scarring him for life. 

Matt isn’t sure if he can believe Foggy. In his mind, deserving happiness is equal to walking the path of redemption until God decides to forgive him for his sins. He repents every day. He has prayed until his knees are bloody, and still, it is never enough. 

Foggy continues, as if that one display of his never-ending devotion to his best friend wasn’t enough, “If this Olivia chick makes you happy, I think it’s worth pursuing. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Off the top of his head, there are several scenarios Matt has played with, and none of them have a happy ending. There are a lot of bad things that could happen, each worse than the other. But he can’t tell Foggy that. To him, Matt’s disdain toward being happy stems from a desperate need to self-sabotage because of his childhood trauma, and while that is true for the most part, he doesn’t know about the dangers of the second life he’s leading.

He indeed sabotages himself because it’s all he’s ever known, but there is a lot more that Foggy doesn’t know about. Matt has to protect him from the truth. He’s one of the few people Matt can’t stand the thought of losing. If Foggy knows, Karen will know, too, and that is not bound to end well for any of them. 

His phone rings with the name of an unknown number later that night, long after Matt has returned home. He just laced up his boots when the silence in his apartment suddenly gets disturbed by his ringtone. 

“Unknown number,” the automatic voice tells him. 

Adjusting the tight black shirt that has seen better days, Matt walks over to the dining table to grab his phone. His fingertips search along the tabletop for the device. When he’s finally found it, he taps the screen twice before lifting it to his ear. 

“Yeah, this is Matt,” he answers. 

It takes him not even a second to realize who’s on the other end. Something about the way you breathe when you’re nervous strikes him every time. He can hear the faint sound of your heartbeat on the other end of the line. His eyes widen, and he drops the leather gloves he was about to put on.

“Hi,” you finally say. “It’s… it’s Liv. Olivia. From the hospital? You, uh, gave me your number earlier for the, uh, second time. I don’t know if you remember. I’m the girl who got hit in the nose.”

You’re cute when you’re nervous, he notices. He can tell that you probably don’t do this often, calling strangers who have given you their number. There is something oddly endearing about how awkwardly you act around people who aren’t your patients, but behavior like that often derives from a much darker secret. Matt knows all about that. For him, it was the day he lost his sight, his father’s death, and Stick’s relentless conditioning before he left him behind, and then years of self-loathing and wondering, “What if?”. What it has been for you, he can’t help but wonder. 

He snaps out of it when he hears the uptick in your heartbeat. You’re anxious, and he’s been quiet for longer than he should have. He can’t stop his lips from curling into a soft smile. 

“Yeah, I–I remember,” he says, his voice slightly breathless. The things you do to him without even trying… it’s not fair.

Foggy’s words come back to his mind. You deserve to be happy. He still isn’t too sure about that, but you make him feel things he can’t remember the last time he felt them, and it’s… exciting, almost.

You let out a little sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God,” you say. 

Matt chuckles. “I wasn’t sure you’d call.”

“Yeah, me… me neither, to be honest.”

He appreciates your honesty. 

“I’m sorry for not calling the first time. And, um, sorry for today,” you say. “I don’t usually get into that much trouble in one day.”

“Not in one day, huh?” He smirks.

Your laugh reminds him of honey. You laugh, and warmth spreads through his chest, wrapping its comforting hand around his heart and squeezing as tightly as it can. 

“You’re my lawyer. Shouldn’t you advise me to plead the fifth?”

“That depends,” Matt answers, “Would your answer incriminate yourself?”

“Yes, very much so,” you say.

“Then you should plead the fifth in front of a judge, not in front of your lawyer.”

You laugh again. “I still choose to plead the fifth, counselor.”

You may be a threat to yourself, but that’s what he sparks his curiosity, and maybe a little bit of misplaced overprotectiveness. He doesn’t own you, but God, he wishes he did. Matt pushes that thought aside as quickly as it pops up. 

You got into trouble not for the sake of getting into trouble; you got into trouble because that is just who you are. It’s an admirable quality that he can’t disagree with. 

Matt chuckles, directing his unfocused gaze toward the ceiling. “Someone should teach you about the correct use of the amendments, Miss Clarke.”

“I’m well aware of my rights, sir,” your voice drops to an octave, resembling a sultry murmur.

It rolls over him like an avalanche, and the use of the honorific darkens his eyes. A fire starts to burn deep within his soul. The candle tips over, setting everything around it on fire. Matt feels on fire.

“Also,” you add, “It’s not Miss Clarke, it’s Doctor.”

You’ve got him. Hook, line, and sinker. You’ve got him trapped in a chokehold that he can’t escape from. Your foot is on his neck, but he doesn’t care. He would gladly get on his knees before you. Whatever is happening in his body, it’s the brightest inferno the universe has ever seen, and you’re holding the torch. 

Matt exhales a hot puff of air. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “Doctor.”

“That’s better.” 

“I didn’t mean to downplay your achievements.”

“I forgive you.”

“Thank you.”

A moment of silence follows. Matt realizes that he dug his nails into his palms. When he unclenches his fist, the sharp pain brings him back to reality. 

You take a deep breath. If he closes his eyes, he thinks, he might be able to feel it brush against his skin. He’s dangerously and thoroughly obsessed with you. 

He can hear the banging of metal in the background. The sound reminds him of an old, rusty locker in a locker room. You must still be at the hospital. Your hand brushes against the metal, he can hear it, and you take another breath. 

“I, uhm–” you cut yourself off. The question on your tongue seems hard to utter. 

Matt doesn’t think much. He opens his mouth, and he asks what he hopes you have been thinking about. He throws all rationality out the window, even though reality is urging him not to. “Would you like to grab some coffee with me?” he asks. 

Your breathing stutters. Instead of your hand, your back is the next part of you that brushes against the metal of your locker. “I was trying to ask you the same thing,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I know,” he says with a smile. “So, would you?”

“Tomorrow?” you ask.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m free tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t rest your head?”

You shake your head. The softest brush of air moves against your phone’s speaker. “So far, I haven’t had any complaints about my head,” you answer.

The words go through his ears, through his enhanced hearing into his brain. They take a few seconds to process. Matt isn’t stupid, but this is a side of you not even he expected to experience. Not so soon, maybe not ever. You’re flirting with him. The way you do it is so exceptionally smart yet almost cliché in a way, but your uniqueness makes it so much more attractive.

He’s sweating, and it’s not even warm in his apartment. The blood rushes to his head. He’s drowning, but this time it isn’t because his senses are overwhelmed. He’s drowning because you’re holding his head underwater. 

Matt’s lips part in a chuckle. It’s as dark as it is flustered. “You’re a dangerously intelligent woman, Doctor Clarke,” he murmurs. 

“So I’ve heard,” you retort. 

“Well, does three work for you?”

“Two-thirty and I pick the place.”

He’s about to have a heart attack. His plans for the night momentarily move into the background. “If that’s what you want.”

“Yes, that is what I want,” you say. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow then?” The slight crack of your voice tells him that it isn’t leaving you cold either, and that makes him feel a little better. 

Matt nods and says, “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Tomorrow.”

“Take care, Liv.”

He can hear you swallow. “I will,” you answer. “You too, Matthew.”

The way you say his name sends a shiver down his spine. “I will. Bye,” is the last thing he manages to say before the line clicks, and you disappear. 

You came into his life without warning, and you started messing with his head. Matt is aware that you’re not doing it on purpose—how could you? Still, he can’t get you out of his head, and the phone call didn’t put him out of his misery. If anything, he has fallen into the deep end with nowhere to go. And it’s your fault. 

You deserve to be happy. Sometimes, Foggy’s caring nature becomes a nuisance. He doesn’t want to hear the same statement over and over again, but it’s the only excuse he can tell himself to somehow explain what is happening to him. 

Reaching for his gloves, Matt stretches his aching fingers. The crescent moon indentations on his palms only remind him of the smooth sound of your voice. It’s like a symphony that has a constant residency in his brain. 

He wonders if he could be your muse. He made you laugh. He made you smile. He could do that every day. If he were normal, he could do it and not feel guilty. He doesn’t want to feel guilty for wanting this. Wanting you. And he doesn’t want to feel guilty for falling down the rabbit hole. It feels as if he found Wonderland in a world that also feels like a dystopian drama, but Matt doesn’t go to the movies, and he doesn’t know much about them either. He just knows that you are the closest thing to heaven that he could touch. 

And maybe, after he has figured out what is happening in his city, he can learn how to lead a somewhat normal life with someone like you by his side–and maybe then, he can achieve the happiness Foggy always claims that he deserves but denies himself time and time again. 

Matt Murdock is a masochist, after all. Self-sabotage is the only way of life he has ever known. 

He slides the gloves onto his fingers. His phone lands in the backpocket of his jeans. The billboard in front of his window projects a luminescent disarray of colors onto his skin. He can still feel the blood rushing in his cheeks. 

Going out now feels like the wrong thing to do after that phone call, but he can’t leave Hell’s Kitchen hanging. If he doesn’t go out, Claire will remain in danger, and she has already sacrificed so much for someone she barely knows. If he doesn’t go out, he’s not sure if he will ever be able to stop whatever it is that is keeping his city in shambles. 

So, he pulls the thin layer of fabric of his mask over the upper half of his face, makes his way up the stairs to the rooftop exit that connects directly to his apartment, and steps out into the night, not as Matt Murdock but the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia

[lavendertales]

SEÑORITA: Chapter 2

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: Steve offers to show you around the precinct, but he's not expecting all the teasing words and the tension between you and Javier; and neither does Javier himself.

word count: 3k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut.

series masterlist | AO3

As it turns out, a baby living in the same space as you isn’t your biggest inconvenience.

Okay, perhaps “inconvenience” is taking things too far. Olivia has been a treat these past few days; she’s just started walking and mumbling a few words, so watching her be curious about everything and reach for things and people with her little hands has been one of your weekly highlights.

But you and Steve remain far from the good buddies you were as children, and the awkwardness that floats in the air whenever you interact is very much palpable and thick, weighing down on both of you.

Even so, you at least remain polite towards each other, and you both try your hardest to become friendly again.

Steve tells you about his time in Colombia; he tells you how he caught Pablo Escobar in his final moments and how he wished Javier was there to share the sweet victory since “it would’ve been only fair”. He mentions Javier quite a lot, actually, just like he did in his letters to you. You deduce that they are good friends, bonded by a mutual goal and plenty of tragedy, and that Javier is, despite some flaws and choices, a focused and hardworking man. Trustworthy and loyal.

In other words, a good man.

“I still have them, by the way,” you tell your brother as you take another sip of coffee.

Steve blinks in surprise. “You kept the letters I sent you?”

“Well, yeah. You’re still my brother, and the fact that you took the time to write to me when you were basically in a living hell, it means a lot to me. I was worried about you.”

The warmth that fills Steve’s body is not unknown, and yet it feels like it’s the very first time he’s ever felt it such a big wave of affection towards his baby sister.

“I figured if something were to happen, you’d be… eased,” he tries to joke.

“You’re not my favorite person in the world but I don’t want you to die. Besides, do you have any idea how expensive it is to have a funeral? Not to mention the cost of retrieving your body from there… way too much work.”

You both giggle, finding odd comfort in the rather morbid way you’re making jokes, and you finish your coffees in silence. Connie is at the park with Olivia—which you suspect was done intentionally on her part—and it’s almost time for both of you to head off to work. You actually crave the library’s welcoming silence today.

“I’ve got an idea,” Steve says, washing both cups. “The precinct isn’t that far from the library.”

“Probably ten minutes by car or so.”

“Exactly. How about you stop by at lunch? I can show you around, give you a tour.”

He’s trying, you smile to yourself. He’s trying to make things great again. You want that too, so it’s not hard to meet him halfway.

“That sounds pretty good actually,” you reply and smile when Steve does.

“Cool!”

“Can you give me a ride to work?”

“Sure thing, c’mon.”

On your way, you talk more and it becomes easier, more lighthearted. You find out that Steve wrote to your parent as well, and he also called them once a week. He talked to your mother daily during the brief time he and Connie were apart, and as you hear that, your heart sinks a little. You figure how difficult it must’ve been for both of them.

And even if you don’t say it aloud, you’re very impressed by Steve’s work in Colombia. But most of all, you’re proud of him.

“What’s Javier like?”

The question replaces the brightness on Steve’s face with a gloomy and curious expression. Much as he tries to hide it, it’s there.

“Why?” he asks flatly.

You roll your eyes, chuckling. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Steven, I’m given to understand that Colombia was very dark. The two of you are bonded together by things that the rest of us can’t comprehend. I’m just asking out of curiosity, nothing more.”

Steve’s grip tightens over the wheel, recalling some of the events in Colombia. It was very dark indeed, but most of the time he had Connie there. Javier, on the other hand… there were times Steve feared he was drowning the more vehemently he refused any external help. All he had were his brothel girls, alcohol and cigarettes.

And Steve fears he still hasn’t recovered, even a year later.

“He’s a great guy overall,” Steve replies after a while. “Tough nut to crack and stubborn, but you can rely on him when it comes down to it.”

“He does look like he’s stubborn.”

“Have you seen much of him?”

“You mean since he introduced himself last week, then you shadily pulled him over after which he fled like the plague? Hmm, no, I can’t say I have.”

Steve coos your name, almost apologetically so, but you cut him off instantly. “Even if I were interested in him, which I’m not, what’s it to you? I get that I’m your sister and he’s your best friend and that puts you in the middle, but we’re adults. It would be none of your business.”

“True, but…” Steve huffs, struggling to find his words. “Look, I’m just trying to keep you both safe and sane.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“Whenever you were dating one of your bad boys, it never ended well. Remember Hyde, who spray painted dad’s car when you broke up with him?”

“Ugh. Yikes.”

“Or Mike?”

You try your hardest not to laugh. “I still can’t believe he found a skunk and sprayed it all over you.”

You suppress a giggle, much to Steve’s dismay.

“I had to sleep in the basement for a week,” he reminds you bitterly. “Wasn’t funny then, and it’s not funny now.”

“I know, I’m s—I’m sorry.”

“Ever notice how your breakups affected the rest of us, but never you?”

You shrug. “What can I say? I have a long lasting impact on these boys.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Javier’s a grown man. Those were little insecure boys. I doubt—“

“Javier isn’t fully okay after Colombia. Neither am I, really, but I’ve got a beautiful wife, an amazing daughter, and life goes on. He took it all by himself and bottled it up. Which is exactly like the kind of guy you’d fall for.”

“I thought he’s a reformed bad boy.”

Steve huffs, parking the car in front of the library and looking at you with a care he hadn’t possessed in years.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” he says softly. “Not gonna do things like I did when we were teenagers. You’re a grown woman, Javier is a grown man as you said. He’s a little broken though, and you can be a lot to deal with… and I’m just afraid you’ll both end up getting hurt.”

“I appreciate your concern, Steven. But I promise you, I’m not interested in Javier like that.”

“All the women are at some point.”

“It’s a regular occurrence?”

When Steve hesitates, you get your answer. “Oh come on, it’s not like he’s some Adonis.”

“I don’t know, for a guy he’s pretty good looking.”

Devilishly handsome is more like it, you think.

“He is,” you agree indifferently, “but I’m not into it.”

“I’ll pick you up at 12-ish?”

You notice the topic change, but you don’t fight against it. “Sounds good,” you concede. Thanks for the ride.”

“You got it.”

Time flew by in the blink of an eye. Before you knew it, you were back in Steve’s car and on your way to the precinct. There’s a tingle in your body that you cannot explain, but you don’t fight against it either.

“So what exactly does a consultant do at a police precinct?” you ask.

“I help with cases but I don’t actually get involved. It’s a pretty sweet deal actually.”

“So it’s basically like giving advice and adding at the end, ‘if it ruins your life, it’s not my fault’?”

A hearty laugh leaves Steve’s chest, booming throughout the car. “Basically, yeah.”

“That’s a pretty sweet deal. How are you adjusting to it after all you did… in your previous job?”

“It’s a bit boring if you compare them, but it’s a nice change of pace.”

“I’ll bet. You are, after all, America’s hero.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Come on! You know what people are saying about you! Steve Murphy, American’s fine hero, saved the world!”

You keep teasing him till you both end up laughing wholeheartedly. It’s a sentiment you haven’t had in years, and suddenly you feel grateful and lucky to have your big brother back in your life.

Steve holds the door for you, thus allowing you to get a first glimpse into his work environment. It’s as busy as any precinct, people buzzing and moving at a fast pace without paying much attention to their surroundings.

“Here,” Steve catches your attention. “This is my office.”

You scan the cubicle, noticing the picture of him, Connie and Olivia on his desk. “Pretty cozy.”

“That one over there is Javier’s.”

The difference between the two desks is quite stunning: while Steve’s is cozy and personalized with reminders of the life he has outside these walls, Javier’s is pretty empty except a few folders neatly stacked on top of each other, a pen and a stapler. His desk seems pretty empty, and you fleetingly wonder if that reflects how he’s feeling on a daily basis.

Impossible, you think to yourself. Surely he’s a ladies’ man, and surely he’s got someone to hook up with at least, if nothing more.

“Hey Jav,” your brother’s voice changes. “You remember my sister.”

Your eyes met Javier’s for a single second, frozen-like in time, and you’re quick to notice how he shifts his gaze as farther away from you as possible. As a response, you lower your head, stiffening a chuckle.

“Hola señorita,” he tells you, even his voice distant.

There’s no verbal reply leaving your mouth. You want to say something clever and witty, maybe even sarcastic, but there is a small fraction of your slightly twisted being, deep down, which considers his greeting to be an awakening of some sort. You like how the words roll so easily down his tongue. A presumably filthy and skilled tongue.

Whoa. Where the fuck did that come from?

Okay, so you might think he’s attractive. He might be sin personified with golden skin and cold attitude, which means he can be trouble.

And you’re not looking for trouble. Not anymore.

“What brings you here?”

It takes you a bit to realize that Javier’s addressing you because he’s not even looking at you; he’s looking through a folder in his hands, seemingly doing everything in his power to ignore you.

“Steve wanted to show me around the precinct while we grab some lunch,” you say.

“Hm.”

“Oh, right, lunch!” Steve exclaims. “I got us turkey sandwiches from a nice place down the street, hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, love those.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With Steve gone temporarily, you take the opportunity to squeeze some answers out of Javier.

“Let me guess,” you start, crossing your arms at your chest and teasingly sitting on the edge of Javier’s desk. “Steven put on the big bro talk with you.”

Javier finally looks at you, somewhat surprised. “Is that a regular occurrence?”

“Oh yes. He used to do it a lot when we were teenagers. But please don’t hold my being related to him against me.”

“Wasn’t going to.”

“Thanks. He claims that I made his life miserable by bullying him when we were younger but if you’re asking me, he’s a bit of a wimp. When it comes to me, at least.”

“You do sound like a bully.”

This time you do chuckle. And if you wouldn’t have such great observation skills, you might’ve thought that Javier chuckled too.

“Did you bully him though?” he asks, voice less distant.

“Well… depends from which side you’re viewing things. I say I gave him reality checks. But this might explain why he’s trying so damn hard to overcompensate now by being ridiculously protective. He knows I didn’t like it then and it’s why we’re awkward around each other now, and yet here he is, going out of his way to keep you at bay.”

“He only asked me nicely to not hit on you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Were you going to?”

“No. You’re not really… my type. No offense or anything.”

“None taken. But the question remains, why does my brother want to keep you at bay? Are you really that big of an asshole, Javier?”

He turns to you, studying your face properly for the very first time. You seem much sharper than any of the women he previously encountered, and for this reason he decides to be as blunt as possible with you.

“That seems to be the consensus,” he agrees.

“Cause I heard some storied from my brother’s time in Colombia. I heard about the infamous Javier Peña. Heard you were quite the hit with the ladies, but nothing short of ‘hero’ and ‘great friend’.”

Gradually, Javier becomes irritated. Reminders of his past life in Colombia and how much it took from him become a trigger, and he doesn’t want to relive any part of that.

“Are you gonna do this the whole time you’re here?” he asks you instead.

“I could,” you shrug. “I can see it gets a rise out of you.”

“And I can see why Steve said you can be a pain in the ass.”

“Ouch.”

But you smile, and paired with the way you said his full name, rolling the R perfectly at the end, it does get a rise out of him.

Frustration. The inability to act upon it. Curiosity. Forbidden fruit.

Too much contradiction for Javier’s personal taste.

“Listen,” he moves closer to you to whisper in dangerous proximity, “Steve asked me to not get involved with you, friend to friend. So that’s what I intend to do. More like not do.”

“Okay, that’s honorable, I respect that. But how much fun would it be to mess with him?”

Javier cocks an eyebrow in your direction, the faint scent of something floral suddenly invading his nostrils.

“Why would we mess with him?”

“Come on! Haven’t you ever wanted to just mess with him? Prank him in any way?”

“Not out of instinct.”

“You’re missing out.”

“And how exactly would we mess with him?”

“Do I detect interest in your voice?”

The playfulness in your voice, along with a hint of mischief, is causing Javier’s head to spin. You’re still not his type, but you sure seem like fun.

And he likes to have fun once in a while.

Forbidden fruit, he reminds himself.

“I figure if he sees me around you a lot, he’ll think we’re fucking, and based on your reputation, sounds plausible,” you ponder. “One of those veins in his head is bound to pop.”

“Shit, you’re a mean one. But I still want to respect Murphy’s wish.”

As if on command, Steve rushes back, handing you a sandwich and pulling Javier closer.

“I found this on Lieutenant Dan’s desk,” he mutters, but not hushed enough to not reach your ears.

Steve reveals a folder that you try to peak at while Javier rummages through it. Seconds later, his face brightens.

“New intel on the case,” Steve adds. “These sure would come in handy for closing the case.”

“So take ‘em.”

Both men stare at you like you just said the most outrageous thing in the world. “They’re classified, smarty pants,” Steve practically scolds you.

“So? You’re not taking them outside the precinct. You’re just… borrowing them, looking at words on a page.”

“If I close my eyes, you’re like the female version of Javier.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Why are you here, again?”

Javier’s sharp eyes cut through you like glass, but they don’t intimidate you.

“Apparently I’m the only one thinking rationally,” you retort.

With a loud grunt and a quick glance around, Javier turns to Steve. “Look, just—just stuff it down your pants.”

“What?”

“Do you wanna close the case or not?”

“Yeah, obviously, but—“

“Stuff ‘em down your pants.”

“Say that a lot to your lady friends?”

The glare Javier throws you doesn’t intimidate either. If anything, it only makes you bolder.

“If your brother wasn’t here, I would’ve told you where you can stuff that,” he grunts.

“Yeah, you’d wish you’d stuff something in this.”

“Both of you, cut it out, now,” Steve shushes you. “And ew. Why me, anyway? You pulled the same stunt back in Medellin.”

“They’ll suspect me.”

“You can’t play that card here too!”

“Spanish-speaking guy with a foreign family name? Trust me, they’ll fucking suspect me, Murphy.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Within a split second, you snatch the folder from Steve’s hands and, ensuring no one’s around, you tug at Javier’s belt, making enough room for the folder to slide between his shirt and his pants. Breathless, Javier can only watch in shock as you smile, so as to not raise any suspicions, and button his blazer so that the foreign element in his suit isn’t visible.

“There,” you say, “problem solved.”

“What the fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“I wasn’t gonna shove a folder down your pants.”

Javier can’t think of a single thing to say. He can only watch you as you sit down, finally munching on your sandwich, and feel a concoction of feelings.

She’s not my type, he remembers.

But shit, that was hot.

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tags: @pedrostories @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs @psychedelic-ink @casa-boiardi

[sashi-ya]

五 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗘𝗦 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧: 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐧 [+18] 𝚉𝚘𝚛𝚘-𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚘 𝚡 𝙵! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

✦ request: anonymous asked: Hi Sashi-ya! congrats on 5500! can I request Zoro x f! reader. prop: touch me, make me shiver? thank you! ➜ of course my love!! it's a little bit long but it's good I promise 😈🙊 ✦ tw: NSFT. alcohol usage. oral sex. dom! zoro. vag sex. creampie. Wano AU, Zoro is a ronin. ✦ masterlist

Ah… Zoro-juro, known as a ronin who can kill with the sharp edges of his three swords and also to make any man to kneel before his demonic aura. Some call him the King of Hell; Enma himself. Some say he is just a human, some others that he isn’t quite one.

On that bar of the Flower Capital, people get drunk and party until late hours. There are shamisen playing cheerful songs, couples flirting and other’s not so much. And there is also a spot reserved for him; the demonic ronin.

Several women had tried to flirt with him; and yet he has never caved in. Is not that he is married to a person, he is married to the sword. He is not interest in anything besides the rules of Bushido. What you could consider a monk, but for the blade.

But, there was someone who didn’t know the rules yet… you. You didn’t want to flirt with him, you only wanted that sword that could cost millions, if not thousands of them. Your stomach growls when you take a look from the dark at the three katanas the ronin had left on top of the countertop. And the way that green haired swordsman has passed with who knows how much alcohol filling his veins.

“Calm down, stomach. You will be soon filled with delicious soba once I sell one of those” you murmur to yourself, as you crawl like a snake towards them.

Used to stealing, you move fast and silently. Your fingertips graze three powerful instruments; they smell like blood and you could swear they are breathing as well. One, is untouchable. The other, feels like if you keep touching it will drain the life out of you… then, the third one. That should do… “Isn’t this a wazamono? Sandai Kitetsu?!”

You pick the most silent one of them three. It’s heavy, but you don’t mind. It’s time to run outside and disappear into the night. A kunoichi knows how to fade with the darkness.

You get outside the bar, the cold breeze of Wano kuni hits your cheeks. You scoff… “What a stupid ronin, falling asleep and leaving his precious treasures without supervision… he isn’t as demonic as they say he is, after all”

Your hands move to cast the ninjutsu technique, but you aren’t allowed to finish. The sharp object that is now stopping you menaces with taking your life if you dare to move a single muscle.

“Am I… a stupid ronin?” he asks, with raspy voice from behind. The smell of stell, blood and alcohol gets to your nose. His aura is so powerful it makes you dizzy, weak. You can even feel the katana in your hand aching to go back to his owner.

You swallow. He is undeniable bigger, stronger, powerful than you. And you, probably, are about to become another one of his victims…

“Can you give me back my katana, please?” he asks, and even if it was a question it sounded more like a direct order.

“Yeh- yeah. I’m-“ you stutter, moving slowly your hand back to give his sword back. You can feel on your wrist how big his thigh is compared to your arm and the subtle touch against his skin makes you tremble. You did not only think he was stupid while sleeping, but also, how extremely handsome he was.

He takes it back. Tucking it on the blue sash around his muscular waist. You, still, can’t move. The blade of a white sword still menaces with beheading you.

“I gave it back, sir. Can I go now?” you ask, trying to sound fearless and polite. But secretly, your hand tries to reach the kunai on your pants.

But that man scoffs. And it makes a shiver run through your spine… why isn’t he killing you already?

“Searching for that weapon? What were you think of doing? Stabbing my leg?” he asks, turning you around to face him.

The edge of his sword is now resting on your nape, and you are as close as you can possibly be to his prominent chest. It is, for sure, a good view to indulge in before dying…

“You are too beautiful to be doing this. You don’t know who I am?” he asks, confused and yet inspecting your moonlight bathed features.

“I might be beautiful, but I am hungry” you whisper, looking down, scaping from his steel single eye looking into yours.

Zorojuro puts down his sword and sheathes it back into his waistband. “Com’ere” he orders, snatching your arm and pulling you to follow him.

You struggle to do so, but you keep up with his pace. You may run away from him, but you know he will not let you scape… so, why bother?

The crunch of the dry leaves underneath your gettas, and the lights of the red district disappearing behind you announces the beginning of a more calmed and rural zone of Wano. The silver moonlight filters in between tall trees; it creates beautiful patterns of shadows and brilliance on the ground.

You don’t dare to ask where you are going. He isn’t telling you either. But after a good 20 minutes walk -and passing right next to the same tree at least three times- the silhouette of an old cabin appears in front of you.

He pulls you to the entrance, opening a creaking door that leads you inside of a very humble home.

“Sit there, the shitty cook left some soba” he says. And you understand he was taking you there just to feed you… after all, he wasn’t that demonic.

You try to tell him no… but your stomach growls so loud that you can’t even say anything and so you obey. There isn’t much around, but it is enough. It is better than your home, after all.

The ronin puts a plate of soup and noodles in front of you. The little table also creaks, but it looks just fine. “Here. Eat” he says, pointing at the bowl with the biggest hand you’ve ever seen on a man.

You look up at him, there aren’t words to express how grateful you are for his kindness. You tried to steal from him, while he is helping you.

“Go on. It will get cold. That stupid cook will be pissed at me if a woman like you doesn’t eat his food properly” he says, turning around. He walks towards a little shelf, where a few bottles of sake rest.

You nod, joining your palms to thank for the meal and start digging it. You don’t want to look desperate… but when was the last time you ate something hot, and so delicious? You aren’t sure if that’s ever happened in your life.

Zorojuro pulls the cork out of the bottle with his teeth, showing you the way his neck muscles work when doing so. His sharp mandible, as delicious as the plate you are eating. He takes the bottle to his lips and begin to chug its contents. Why is this man so stupidly attractive?

It isn’t helping the fact that he lets his upper yukata part fall down. His wide back, scarless and huge show its caramel skin to you.

You get lost on the lustful image of a demon god getting once again drunk before your eyes. But as soon as he turns around and cleans the drops of alcohol on the commissure of his lips he laughs at you.

“You remind me of my best friend Luffy!” he scoffs, coming closer to your dumbfounded you that has now lost herself on the crossing scar of his neck.

He kneels in front of you, cleaning with his calloused thumb the little noodle on the commissure of your lips. “This should go inside… nothing should be wasted” he murmurs, taking the noodle and eating it.

You sigh. There is so much pressure inside you, that you really need air.

However, Zorojuro seems absolutely unaware of the effect he has on you and so, he stands up and flops into his futon. Like the King of Hell, he sits with his legs spread, his right arm resting on his knee and the left one taking the bottle to his lips. He isn’t delicate, he drinks that alcoholic elixir with no manners, brutally, like a beast.

Kneeling on the floor with your plate already empty, you look at him in silence. Is he waiting for you to go away? Does he want something in return? He is a man, right? He surely wants you to… repay with… sex.

You, however, have no inconveniences into complying if that’s your part of the deal and so after gaining the courage you stand up. He doesn’t seem to bother as he keeps chugging sake like a sponge, and yet looking so primally attractive.

“Zoro-juro…” you say, standing right in front of him. You try by all means not to show him how your voice gets trembly. You aren’t scared, you are horny. You are desperate, as if there was an invisible force of perversion pulling you towards that man… a sinful impulse Enma itself would applaud.

“Hah? You want sake? Aren’t you a little bit demanding, woman?” he asks; of course, he is not giving you his precious liquid. But you don’t want that…

You untie your upper part, letting it fall to the ground, exposing your breasts to him. “Zoro-juro, touch me… make me shiver” you purr, hoping that your body is to his liking.

He chokes with the wine, opening his healthy eye widely. “What- woman, what the fuck? You-“

“I have no money to repay you for your attention; hope this is enough” you tell him, kneeling right in front of him as if he was some kind of God you are submitting to.

The green haired man leaves the bottle on the ground and sits properly. “I don’t want anything in return. You were hungry, and so I fed you” he says, yet, his voice feels a little trembly now. Is it, perhaps, that this samurai is getting interested in your body?

“Use my body, sir” you moan. “You really want me to? aren’t you a little bit straightforward?” he asks, amazed.

Lifting your gaze to him, giving him a look of pure lust and desire, you answer his question. And you let that man speechless.

A smirk, so deliciously sexy, appears on his lips. The intense aura around him makes you short of breath, knowing exactly how difficult it will be for you to walk tomorrow morning.

“Very well, then. Come here… crawling” he grunts, taking his arms behind his neck and flopping back to his futon against the wooden wall. “Enjoy desert”

You reach for his body, crawling on all fours. Playful hands, avid for discovering more of his anatomy, untie the sash that holds his yukata closed. It’s exceptionally delicious, not only the perfect sculpted muscles of his lower stomach, but also the natural scent of his skin. He might not have bathed today, but somehow it makes you so attracted to his flesh.

Bending forward, you plant the first kiss over his right hipbone. It makes him grunt. You plant another one, this time closer to his belly button. Another grunt in response, so sensitive his muscles spasm.

And he might meditate and take things slow, but not this… Zoro passes his huge hand through your hair, pulling from it to make you look up at him.

“Show me what those lips can do, woman. Com’ere” he says, helping you crawl on his lap. You sit there, feeling his hardness already hitting against your core. You can tell he is not average… of course he isn’t.

His lips approach yours so slowly, killing you softly with the wait. You smell the sake, and soon you taste it too when his tongue encounters yours. Zorojuro goes slow at first, so deliciously and sinful, with his huge hands pressing you by your hips against him.

You moan into his mouth, allowing him to breathe your desperate sinful melody. He smirks with his lips still pressed into yours, and with his hand he reaches for the bottle next to him.

“Stick your tongue out”  he commands, and you do. The bittersweet liquid pouring into your mouth overflows and drips from the sides of your mouth. And he doesn’t let a single drop go to waste, as he licks the alcohol right from your skin.

He hums; he is pleased to discover sake could taste even better from your skin that the bottle. And he does, he empties the rest of the bottle all over your body. It wets your pants, and it’s ok… they were pretty much wet already. It pools in your belly button. It bathes your nipples. And there is nothing that Zoro is more addicted to than sake itself.

Like a beast; like a demon, he starts licking up and down. Sucking, devouring. He bites and pulls from your nipples as if he were to obtain more alcohol coming from them. You can only whine, letting this man taste every single corner of your flesh.

“Ugh… woman. You are delicious” he growls, turning around, putting you against the mattress beneath you two. He pins your hands up your head against the futon. Just one of his huge hands is enough to grab both your wrists.

Zoro gives you those deathly smirks; those deadly smiles of his. Get. Ready. To. Die… by the hands of the King of Hell.

Your pants get pretty much ripped. No need to take them out. Sex exposed, so juicy and tempting. Like the soba plate you devoured, is your cunt the one to get eaten.

That strong ronin lifts your legs up, letting them fall over his shoulders. He kneels, so that your body gets lifted up just enough for him to be comfortable, as he gets ready to taste your honeys. And he attacks almost immediately, with a wandering tongue that gets in between your labia reaching for your clit. He also presses down your belly; you aren’t sure how expert he is, but you are sure that if he keeps going that way you are going to come almost instantly.

The sounds of his tongue traveling up and down your core makes you shiver, the way he touches and desperately wants to drink more of you, too. Zoro licks up and down, around, and inside. From your rear entrance to your clit, and vice versa too.

Moaning, shivering, contorting, arching your back, loosing humanity you mewl like a mere animal enslaved of pleasure. Climax, spasms and his scoffing. Zoro is enjoying your reactions so delighted. But he is not over, you aren’t either.

The samurai lets you rest for a couple of seconds on the futon. In between your blurry vision, you can see how he totally undresses himself. The fabrics covering his pelvis finally fall to the ground, as he walks up to his holly shelf of alcohol provisions.

You watch him take a drink of a new bottle, leaving it aside for after as he comes to you again. “That damn cook, look what you made me do… you and your delicious food” he murmurs, almost laughing.

You wonder who that cook is, but, if he is the one that cooked that soba you are more than grateful for it. However, you are even more grateful for Zoro’s parents, how much they loved each other to create such a beautiful being.

You bite your lips, as you watch him approach you he throws his shoulders back. He is definitely getting ready to fuck you, and you want it so badly.

“I think I wanna fuck you from the side, woman” he says, grabbing you from your ankle to turn you to your side in a swift, violent motion.

You giggle as he does so, still a little dizzy from your past orgasm. And he does too, yet, his dark tone only announces you that you are about to stop laughing…

Zoro flops right behind you, also lying on his side and lifting your leg up. He comes closer, hitting his chest with your back, passing his hand underneath your neck and grabbing it after.

“You want me to fuck you, hm?” he whispers in your ear, passing his free palm from your hips to your waist and from there down your belly. It makes you shiver, his presence, his touch, his voice, how big and hard he is.

The green haired samurai bites your shoulder, making you squeak in pain. And in pleasure too. His hardness searches for your entrance by itself, but he doesn’t penetrate you quite yet. He enjoys the way your juices mix with his, how you wet his tip getting it so perfectly lubricated to finally abuse your entrance.

“Zo- zoro… please” you beg, you wanna feel him deep inside you. He squeezes your neck as you plead, cutting your airflow for some minutes.

“You want my dick inside you? Is that what you want?” he asks, barely letting his tip slide a few cm inside your entrance.

“Pl- please…yes, yes” you whine, resting your nape against his chest. Inhaling the scent of his skin, the manly perfume of testosterone. Getting so drunk with it, with passion, lust and low instincts.  “My king, my king of hell… fuck me, please”

Zoro grunts, and with a violent thrust he finally deeply penetrates you. You whine, loud. You moan, even louder. It feels as if your insides were breaking in half, the way he fucks you so raw and rough.

You become a dumb piece of flesh and pleasure, drooling against the white fluffy surface of the bed, as he goes in and out so violently. His hips are the best punish for stealing you could have ever received.

He keeps going, almost as if his stamina was endless. Zoro moves you, from the side up his hips. You end up in reverse but is not you who should move; you couldn’t either. His hips buck up, your back pressed against his chest, your arms hanging from the sides, your legs too. The samurai fucks you as if you were weightless, as if your body had become inert to him.

You rest the back of your head on his big chest, taking a look to the back and side in total misery, climaxing for the third time perhaps. You can see how much of a demonic expression he has, showing he indeed has earned such rename because of a tangible cause… Zoro looks like the devil himself, an extremely hot demon.

“Take my cum, sweet woman” he growls, with little to no warning filling your womb with his warm seed. Your eyes go blank as you can totally feel the pressure inside, bathing your clenching milking walls… a blessing from the owner of Jigoku himself… a reminder of your past actions, convincing yourself that stealing Sandai Kitetsu had been one of the best decisions you have ever made…

They say that stealing is a sin, and when you sin you are sent to suffer.   And you are glad you did, because you have just met, the King of Hell…