#TAGS THANK YOU BUT THIS ^ WAS NOT MEANT TO BE SELF DEPRECATING !

[hillhomed]

im no less than what i cant be

[literaryavenger]

Careless

Summary: Part 2 of Thoughtful.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avengers!Reader

Warnings: My poor attempts at being funny. No use of Y/N. Fluff. Angst. Tony being kind of an asshole. Bucky's self-deprecating thoughts. Reader being dumb.

Word Count: 1K

A/N: I keep having no idea what this is, I have no endgame but I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Part 1

Stark parties are a hassle. Tony always insists on the team dressing up, cocktail dresses, tuxedos and all that.

So that’s why you’re all dolled up right now, a black sparkly floor-length gown that highlights your curves perfectly with a slit that goes up your left thigh with black stilettos, your hair curled perfectly and your make-up on point thanks to Natasha and Wanda, gold hoop earrings finishing the ensemble.

The only thing that looks like it doesn’t belong on your right now are Bucky’s dog tags hanging from your neck.

Things with Bucky have been going relatively good, you’re not really dating but neither of you let a moment pass without trying to flirt with each other. You enjoy the attention he only gives you and he enjoys making you flustered.

You’ve even managed to make him blush himself a few times.

You haven’t taken his dog tags off since that morning Bucky put them on you, and that’s not gone unnoticed by the team who have had a field day teasing you about it. Just never enough to bother you and make you want to take them off.

Until now.

“Come on, they look so out of place!” Tony says while chuckling as you roll your eyes, drink in hand while you stand in the middle of the party while talking with Tony, Scott and Maria.

“Leave her alone, Stark.” Maria comes to your defense and you give her a grateful smile. All the girls think it’s adorable that you wear Bucky’s tags.

“He’s not wrong, though.” Scott chimes in. “That’s a beautiful get up, but the tags stand out, and not in a good way.”

Anyone else, you’d be creeped out, but you know Scott is in a happy relationship with Hope and he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s more of a girlfriend at this point.

“I don’t care.” You say simply, sipping your drink. “I like them, and I’m not taking them off.”

“You haven’t taken them off in weeks.” Tony points out, a dangerous smirk starting to grow on his face. “Could it have anything to do with the particular soldier that gave them to you?”

You roll your eyes, knowing where Tony’s going with this because he’s gone there countless times now.

“It has nothing to do with Bucky, I just like them.” You say causally.

“You like him.” Tony says childishly while the other two snicker at your groan. “Maybe you even love him.”

You scoff and almost glare at Tony. “I don’t love him.”

“Then prove it.” Tony says without missing a beat. Obviously he has you exactly where he wants you. “Take them off.”

“What would that even prove?” You roll your eyes again.

“Prove to me that they don’t mean as much to you as I think they do. Take them off.” He keeps grinning at you, challenging you.

“You’re a child.” You say simply, having no intention to accept this silly challenge.

“Yes, I am.” He says and all four of you chuckle, before Tony takes it one step further. “Take them off for a week and I’ll give you ten thousand dollars.”

You give him an unimpressed look. It’s not a surprise, Tony’s known to do this kind of thing all the time. He once bet Sam twenty thousand dollars if he went streaking for at least 4 blocks around the tower.

His ‘falcon’ was on the paper the next day.

“Come on, if you’re so sure I’m wrong, why not make some money off my arrogance.” Tony says with a smirk when you narrow your eyes at him, he knows you’re considering it.

“Fine.” You say after a pause. You hesitantly take the tags off and put them on Tony’s outstretched hand. It’s only a week and it doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky saw the whole thing from a distance. And it meant plenty to him.

He couldn’t hear what you were saying even with his enhanced hearing because you were far away and the party noise was almost deafening, but Bucky saw you clearly as you took off his tags and gave them to Tony.

To Tony.

Did they not mean as much to you as they did to him? Was this whole thing just a joke to you? Was he making a fool out of himself thinking you liked him as much as he liked you? Maybe you just liked the attention. Maybe you were fucking with him, having fun at his expense because he convinced himself you like him, because how could he even think someone like you actually likes him? Maybe you’ve been laughing behind his back while he’s been falling for yo-

“Hey, Sergeant Grumpy.” His thoughts are interrupted by your playful voice that just a minute ago was the single greatest sound that he wanted as the soundtrack of his existence for the rest of his life.

But right now, it’s making his nostrils flare with barely contained anger while he almost glares at you.

You think nothing of it, convincing yourself that maybe the party is making him anxious like it usually does. After all, Bucky doesn’t do good with strangers.

Or maybe Sam has been getting on his nerves more than usual tonight. Whatever it is, you want to make him feel better.

So you wrap your hand around the tie of his suit and pull him towards you a little, copying the move he’s now done countless times with his dog tags around your neck.

“You wanna hear something funny?” You ask playfully, wanting to tell him about the bet you just made with Tony and thinking Bucky will get a kick out of it and it’ll take his mind off of whatever has him in a bad mood.

But you get no chance to say anything more since he takes your hand away from his tie.

“Leave me alone.” He says with a harsh tone you’ve never heard him use towards anyone, let alone you. “Forever.”

That said, he walks off and out of the room in the direction of his quarters without giving you a second glance, leaving you to look after him, too dumbfounded as your mind tries to play catch-up.

What the hell just happened?

Requested Taglist: @marvelcasey05 @ordelixx @alltoounwellread @capswife @sapphirebarnes @rio-reid-whoreee @theunknownmarveluser @alltoowellread @a-very-fictional-girl @geeky-politics-46 @winters1917 @yujyujj @blackhawkfanatic @hot-cheeto5739 @shortnloud @disneychic8

[lucysstoryworld]

Lease of Life | Azriel x Reader part 3

Thank you all so much for all the love. Just a quick one, I read all of your comments and there's so many that I can’t respond to all of them but I do read them. Especially with the tag list, I check for new entries before I post so don’t be worried if I don’t respond! hope you enjoy this next part! Let me know if you have any feedback!

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, self deprecating thoughts. 

Minors DNI. 

You were sure that others would rather gouge their eyes out than stare down the High Lord of the Night Court like you were in that moment, daring him to answer incorrectly. Your body felt like it was on fire, like each and every nerve ending was being scratched and torn. The sounds that had gone unheard by your human ears, the scent of the very air was an overstimulated nightmare. And your sister’s absence did nothing but fuel the inferno pooling within your soul, threatening to break the surface. Glancing around the room, the look on the others’ faces told you that they had been blindsided too. All eyes were on Rhysand, demanding an explanation as to what the actual fuck just happened. 

So he explained. Explained how he and Feyre had slipped out to have an impromptu mating ceremony... and had her named High Lady of the Night Court. Explained how she had sacrificed her safety for the sake of your escape. 

Classic, selfless Feyre. 

It was Nesta who broke the pregnant silence, the anger on her face matching what you felt, “So you just let her?! Wow, you really are useless. First you rock up to my home and promise that we will have no part in this war. You lied. Next, you allow my sister to just give herself over to the enemy!” She barked, growing close to being feral. 

“Watch how you speak to my High Lord,” Cassian growled, towering above her. 

“He is not my High Lord, so I will speak to him how I want. All he is to me is someone who has dragged all of my sisters into a war we have no part in.” 

The tension was thick, rage and shock at what happened fuelling the fire, “Feyre died so we could live and now she is risking her life again for the sake of this court all of her own accord. No one is forcing her. So I will only say it once more, mind you tongue, girl,” He sneered. 

“That’s enough,” Rhysand ordered, his demeanour was commanding all of the attention in the room. 

“Rhys...” Morrigan spoke, voice barely above a whisper. She stood from your side, approaching Rhysand with an uneasy calm, “You’re telling me my High Lady is with the enemy? She is in danger.” Morrigan seemed desperate, concern lacing her tone. 

“Your High Lady is conducting a recon mission in the Spring Court and will be safe,” Though the words were meant to be reassuring, you knew deep down Rhysand did not believe them. 

“Oh please!” Nesta scoffed once again, “Safe? Safe. You wouldn’t know what safety was if it slapped you in the face!”

This was all too much, the anger you felt was now at boiling point, “Shut it, Nesta!” You boomed, chest heaving with the effort it was taking to not blow up. All eyes were on you, yet your own remained fixed on your eldest sister. “Do not pretend as though you give a shit about Feyre’s safety. Not when she risked her life every day in that forest hunting just so you could pester her when she came home!” You wished the shouting would calm the storm brewing in your very bones, the strange feeling was clawing its way out. 

“(F/n)...” Morrigan whispered, edging closer to you once more.

“I am not speaking to you,” You snapped, lifting your hand to halt her pursuit towards you. The room began to fill with metallic scent of magic, seemingly consuming each molecule of air in the room. You did not miss how everyone in the room readied themselves to intervene. Both you and Nesta stared each other down, daring the other to make the next move. 

“I have always cared for our family,” She whispered lowly, almost darkly. 

In that moment, that insufferable feeling that, for all this time, had been dancing just beneath your skin broke loose. The power in the room made every wooden fixture begin to groan, glass began to shatter and fly violently across the room along with splinters of wood. 

All of them directed at your sister. 

In an instant, Rhysand stood before you. He placed a hand up, halting the assault on Nesta. Shards and wood chips fell to the floor and he looked at you with gentle eyes. The gentleness in his eyes shook you to the core. He had the same eyes as Feyre. The seriousness of what you just tried to do had you backing away from the group slowly.

“It’s okay,” He said quietly, “Just look at me. I will get Morrigan to bring you to your room. Is that okay?” Cautious. He was being cautious. 

A slight nod was all you could manage. The journey to your room was a blur and when Morrigan took her leave silently, you laid down in the soft bed and cried yourself to sleep. 

* * * 

It had been a few weeks since then. Weeks since you had tried to kill Nesta, and neither of you had made an effort to speak of it. Weeks since you were ripped away from your mortality and given a new body that coursed with strength and power that you barely keeping a handle on. It was obvious that you were not the only one struggling with the change. Elain had barely uttered two words since she arrived here, had barely eaten or slept. She seemed chained to the chair that faced the window, overlooking Velaris. At first, you believed she wanted to marvel in the undeniable beauty of the city though, it became clear her eyes were unseeing. Her sight seemed entwined in whatever catatonic blur that had encased her mind. You and Nesta desperately tried to coax any reaction from her, inviting her out to see the beautiful gardens or come try some of the baked treats the two wraiths had made. 

It seemed as though your sister was lost. 

Azriel had managed to get subtle reactions from her. Offering her tea resulted in an almost unnoticeable tilt of her chin, or a gentle good morning seemed to make her eyes glance towards him in response. It wasn't much, but you and Nesta prayed that whatever magic Azriel was working would continue to work. 

Caring for Elain made it easier to ignore the constant gnawing sensation in the back of your skull, the feeling like you were not the owner of the body you inhabited was both refreshing as it was grating. You relished in the feeling in taking long, powerful breaths of air. In walking around Velaris without tiring as you would have before. It felt like you had been given a new lease of life, appreciating every single second of health you walked in. Yet, the constant scents and sounds that invaded your senses were jarring. The conversations that you overheard on your walks past the cafes seemed so loud. The smell of the brewery down the next street seemed so strong. That female was surely letting all of Velaris know that she was wearing high heels, clacking against the cobble. Or the male in the restaurant was happy to let the whole dinning hall know he was chewing. 

It was all so... irritating. 

So, the walks in the beautiful city had ceased just as quickly as they started. You could barely cope with the sounds in the house, let alone a whole city’s worth. 

It made you yearn for Feyre more. Asking Rhys, as he had urged you to call him, whether or not she was coming home soon became a daily occurrence. Each day was filled with, ‘No, but she is safe,’. Disappointment seemed to weigh you down with each day she did not return. You needed her now more than ever.

The following day, after not receiving the update you wanted from Rhys had you sulking on the balcony, with your head in your hands. Gods, you needed her so bad. The irritation of everything prickled underneath your skin to the point where you couldn’t even look at Elain without becoming exasperated by her state. 

“You doing okay out here, (F/n),” Azriel’s deep voice called from the doors. 

Without lifting your head, “Doing wonderful, thanks.” The guilt for being so rude added to the list of things weighing you down. 

Gentle tingles began dancing across your arms, a cool sensation that made the hairs on your arm stand on end. Finally lifting your head to see what is was, you were met with Azriel’s shadows twirling near your body. Their master was now standing right in front of you, looking at you were a softness that you had not experienced before. “You’re so quiet, I didn't hear you walking over here,” Was all you managed to say. 

“Sorry if I startled you, it is part of the job description to move about unnoticed.”

“Not at all,” You sighed, “It’s nice actually. For something to be so silent.”

His eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, gesturing you to elaborate, “I’m not entirely sure what that means,” He replied. His eyes were like pools of gold, staring down at you were unnatural calculation yet it was not threatening in the slightest. 

“It means that fae senses suck and I miss being able to hear so little.”

The soft chuckle was like music to your ears. In the brief moments you had interacted with Azriel, often during the make shift hand overs for Elain, you could feel a strange excitement when he would look to you. When he would speak, your heart would begin to thump heavily in your chest. You weren’t stupid, you were aware that it was a crush.

That is all it was, a crush. You had never witnessed beauty akin to that of Azriel’s. So it was only natural that you were attracted to him. It was just a simple crush, was what you told yourself. Especially when you saw how dearly he was caring for your sister. Part of you whispered that his aid to your sister went beyond that of respect and love for his High Lady thus, you shut down any thoughts of how devastatingly handsome he was.

“Well, I can’t imagine how… off-putting it is to learn everything about your new body. I know it is not any consolation now but it will get easier, Feyre managed eventually,” He deliberately spoke soft, like he was afraid his voice was going to add to your irritation.

A smile tugged at your tugged on the corner of your lips, your heart swelling with the consideration he was showing, “I wish she were here though. I wish I knew how long it’s gonna take for this to feel normal,” You sighed, motioning to the body you inhabited. “It’s strange, I’m grateful that I feel strong for the first time in my life. I don’t remember a time where I wasn’t ill, or completely exhausted or able to just do what people do without being sick for the following days. Yet, I’m so miserable. Every little noise and smell makes me feel like my head is going to burst. I feel so pathetic,” You whispered, tears lining your eyes after finally voicing your woes.

“You’re not pathetic,” His sharp answer had you meeting his eyes once more. “You have been pushed into this without warning, which is partially my fault. I promised Feyre that I would protect her sisters and I failed. So do not, for one moment, think that you are supposed to feel a certain type of way about this. I can’t say there is one right way to adjust to being fae. But I can imagine being in a city is a sensory nightmare. So perhaps, we should take it slow. Maybe we should bring you somewhere more manageable, like a forest, or a small town or village,” He replied. The determination in his voice filled you with hope, that same jittery feeling of your crush set you on edge in the most wonderful way.

“I would like that, Azriel. Thank you for speaking with me. But for now, I want to stay here in case Feyre comes back.” The thought of not being in this house when Feyre came back was not up for discussion. You had already lost enough time with your sister over the recent years, you weren’t about to willingly risk losing even more time with her, despite having immortality to make up for lost time. Though, with the war looming, there was a real chance immortality wouldn’t protect you. 

“Of course,” His answer was distant, as though he was building himself up to say something more. 

“What is it?” 

“I can offer you a short reprieve from the sounds, but it is only if you want it,” He suggested, shyness causing a slight blush to dust his cheeks. 

You were sure that if you were still human, your heart would have given out by now. His suggestion sent butterflies dancing in your stomach, “What does it involve?” You whispered, your own cheeks heating. 

“My shadows... They can help. I mean, if I just,” He released a frustrated sigh, unable to explain himself. “I can just show you, but again only if you are okay with it.” 

The thought of complete silence was so inviting, you were ready to do just about anything for a few moments of peace. “Yes please, Azriel,” Was all you could manage. 

Slowly, his shadows seemed to grow thicker. They began stretching from him to you, entwining themselves around your body. The blackness the shadows possessed was so unlike that of the cauldron. They were lukewarm, comforting. They were silent. The pocket they encased you in made it feel like the world outside ceased to exist. Made it feel like time stood still. No sights, no sounds, no smells. 

It was divine. 

You sat for what felt like hours, just enjoying the complete nothingness you had craved this whole time. Slowly, a small crack appeared in the pocket. It allowed the slightest sounds to creep through, another tear invited the scents of Velaris. The final crack had the pocket melting away, revealing the Shadowsinger. 

“That was...” You started, words escaping you. “That was beautiful.” 

A sheepish smile graced Azriel’s face and again, you were sure your human heart wouldn't have coped with the sight of him in this moment. “I’m glad I could help you, (F/n).”

A comfortable silence settled between you and Azriel. You couldn’t help the soft smile that took hold, the kindness this male had shown you was unlike anything else. Gods, he really wasn’t helping with this crush you had. 

As though that thought was heard by fate, Azriel stood, “I must get back to Elain. Hopefully I can get her to eat something today.” While you watched his retreating figure, a strange sense of disappointment replaced the peace you felt moments ago. 

You couldn’t decipher why you would feel upset for him taking care of your incapacitated sister. Yet, it also made so much sense. When you were human, you never had the experience of having a man’s interest. Your health making it impossible to just go out and mingle with people during your time in the cottage  like Feyre had. And your health also made you an unsuitable bride during your family’s re-assimilation into aristocracy, being too weak to even consummate a marriage let alone produce an heir for her husband’s name was among one of the remarks you overheard one of Nesta’s ‘friends’ say during one their seemingly obligatory charity visits. Essentially, you knew you were unable to differentiate between genuine kindness and romantic interest. 

Yet before you could even entertain any more of the self pitying thoughts, Rhys’ voice entered your mind. It was frantic, yet you knew what he said. 

Feyre was back. With Elain’s mate. 

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[beautifulchris]

love die young

wc: 0,5k

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader

summary: after months of young love, you decide it's best to part ways

genres: angst, breakup!au

tw: mention of death (just a thought) and anxiety

notes: this drabble is inspired by love die young by eric nam as requested by my friend. i hope i did it justice and it's angsty enough djdjdj @badwithten 🙏🏼 also the lyrics are in italic and 2/3 chris' thoughts. i'm reposting the works i posted while shadowbanned, please don't mind me

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @badwithten send an ask/dm/comment to be added!

prequel to: fate brought us together again

GIF publié par sevengems07

Chris fell in love with you rather quickly. He was attracted to you the second he laid his eyes on you, your beautiful hair complimenting your face nicely.

He got the courage to speak to you after class one day, and your personalities matched perfectly.

It was young love at its finest.

You’d do everything together, without forgetting your respective family and friends.

This amazing relationship was around nine months old. Then, one afternoon at his house, you said something that shook his very core.

“Chris, I have to tell you something.”

“What’s wrong, angel?” he asked, worry in his voice. You rarely called him by his name.

“I— OK, this is gonna be difficult.”

You breathed, throat tight.

You were seated on each side of the couch. At the sight of your dejected state, he moved closer to you, a reassuring hand pressed against your knee.

In his head, he imagined one of your family members passed away. Honestly, he couldn't think of anything else that could put you in such a distressed state.

“I want to break up.”

He thought wrong.

Your words felt like a bomb exploded in his chest. You weren't one to make jokes this hurtful, and he always knew when you lied.

The fact you were being real filled him with confusion and anxiety.

“I don’t understand,” was all he could reply.

Weren't you happy together during the many months you spent together? Was every single moment all a lie? Did he even know you like he thought he did?

“You don't love me anymore?” he resumed, “Did I do something? Is there someone else? Someone better?”

Self deprecating questions spiraling in his head, he felt like suffocating. He moved back, away from you.

“No, it's none of that, Chris. I promise. I just feel like I don’t know myself, and I need to. In order to know who I am… This journey I have to take alone.”

Tears were staining your shirt, but you didn't care one bit. Seeing him like this hurt more than words could describe.

“Please, don’t let this love —our love— die young.”

“I love you,” you said softly, “I just need to put myself first this time.”

“Y/N,” he whined, your words feeling like a white-hot knife cutting right through him. “I need you to stay.”

You sniffed, caressing his elbow with your thumb. The movement calmed his nerves, if only a little.

“And I need to go.”

Chris’ heart was hammering in his chest.

Tell me it was just a wrong feeling.

“I’m sorry,” you resumed, “I really am. I never meant to hurt you. I’m leaving the day after summer break officially starts. We may never see each other again.” Your voice broke a little.

It was painful— no, crushing the both of you. However, you had to do it. For your own sake.

“I love you,” he whispered, barely seeing you through his tears.

He got closer to you, pressed his forehead against yours.

The goodbye kiss was passionate, teeth crashing and full of love and pain.

“Thank you,” you murmured, out of breath, when you let go of his face, “for everything.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I have to.”

These were the last words spoken to each other.

You left, heart heavy but determined to find yourself and be able to love yourself like you loved him.

Chris stayed for hours, crying on his couch.

Maybe I should blame myself for never thinking we’d end up this way.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, here's the masterlist<3

[snootlestheangel]

Cheers to the Unknown Pt.5

Monster/cryptid au ft. Just A Dude!Ghost; canon-divergent, alternate universe. More details here (parts are not a coherent story necessarily just scenarios as they come to me !subject to change!;all tagged under "cheers to the unknown") TW: language; little bit of self-deprecation (again)

Siren!Gaz Helping Ghost Get Some Much Needed Sleep

Ghost and Soap had been dating for almost a month when the sergeant and Captain Price were sent out for an operation that would take roughly a week. Ghost was fine with it, he never put up a fight and helped send them on their way.

But Gaz knew better. Gaz was ready to strangle the human if he didn't fix his sour mood and soon. Ghost had spent the better part of the last five days snapping at everyone and being generally just grumpier than normal. Gaz knew it was a lack of sleep; he had learned through Soap how surprisingly touchy Ghost was, especially at night.

Despite how fed up Gaz was getting, he never dared to intervene. Sure, he possessed the ability to easily put the lieutenant to sleep, but he never dreamed of using his abilities on Ghost. He knew Ghost had been betrayed by people he trusted, had been hurt in horrible ways by those very people, and Gaz never wanted to be the same. He stayed back, kept his distance and waited for Soap to get back so he could convince the human that he still very much needs to sleep.

What Gaz was not expecting was for Ghost to approach him on the sixth night of Soap's absence. He was not expecting Ghost to ask to speak to him, and so Gaz maintained a bit of distance between himself and Ghost as he was led down the halls to a location he didn't expect to be taken to. Gaz's eyes widened as he realized they were just down the hall from Ghost's private quarters that he and Soap shared. Soap's room was filled with exposed wires, far too dangerous for a human, and was often referred to as his recharge station. So it was safe to say Gaz was a bit nervous when he realized where Ghost was taking him.

"You alright, mate?" He asked as he gently bumped Ghost's shoulder with his nose. Ghost grunted before he opened his door and practically shoved the siren inside.

"Hey, whoa-" Gaz started as he turned to face Ghost again, but he didn't get to finish his statement as Ghost closed the door a bit forcefully.

"Sing me to sleep." Ghost said, and Gaz finally understood what Soap meant by blue-screening. Gaz had never been so thrown off guard before, and he couldn't think of a proper response other than awkward stuttering.

"Sing. Me. To. Sleep." Ghost forced out, and Gaz closed his mouth, hesitancy clear. Ghost seemed to notice, however, as his shoulders suddenly sagged and he now appeared as tired as he was. Ghost reached up and pulled off his mask, the lack of it making him look rather distraught.

"Please." He added with a whisper, and the soft sound hit Gaz harder than he expected it to. He had never seen Ghost so... vulnerable before, and it was a strange experience. Gaz let out a sigh as he stepped closer to Ghost, placing his hands on his shoulders where they meet his neck.

"Thank you for trusting me." Gaz whispered as Ghost's tired eyes found Gaz's. The man nodded, quickly avoiding eye contact.

"Like it's hard." Ghost mumbled back, and Gaz forced back the scoff. He knew what Ghost meant; that Gaz is easy to trust and that has nothing to do with his being a Siren. But Gaz knew. Gaz knew that humans never trusted Sirens, never have and probably never will. But of course, Ghost noticed Gaz's internal conflict as his gaze suddenly darkened.

"My trust in you has nothing to do with you being a siren, Gaz. I trust you because you're loyal, you're intelligent, and kind, and a bit of an ass. I trust you because you're trustworthy. Nothing you can do will change the fact I trust you. Understood?" Ghost said strongly, his eyes narrowed down at Gaz as he spoke. Gaz took a deep breath before nodding.

"Understood."

"Gaz." Ghost clearly wasn't convinced. Gaz shrugged, trying to ignore the knot in his throat.

"I just don't want you getting hurt cause of my voice." Gaz whispered as he stared down at his feet. He didn't even look up when he saw Ghost's covered feet step into view.

"I wouldn't ask you to put me to sleep with your voice if I didn't trust it, now would I?" Ghost whispered back, and Gaz took another shaky breath. Ghost was right; if his voice was a problem, he never would have asked for this.

"Okay. But I'm not singing, that's stupid." Gaz said before he turned and headed towards Ghost's bed. He grunted as Ghost suddenly collapsed on top of him, but he didn't mind. Gaz did shift a bit so Ghost was more against his side than directly on top, but made sure Ghost knew he was comfortable. Several minutes passed as Gaz quietly hummed and scratched Ghost's head, and after a certain point, Gaz was confident the lieutenant had fallen asleep.

"Hey, Gaz?" And he's still awake. Was Ghost really this bad at sleeping or is Gaz really that bad at humming a fucking lullaby?

"Yeah?" Gaz decided not to bring up the fact Ghost was still awake, mostly for his own sanity.

"You remember the day Soap asked me out?" Ghost asked, and Gaz relaxed a bit at hearing the sleep already clinging to the man's voice.

"Yes?" Gaz answered, suddenly unsure of where Ghost could be going with this.

"I heard you two talking. About me. Johnny already knows." Oh. That was definitely not the confession Gaz expected, but he also wasn't confident the man was about to spill his guts and confess his love for Gaz. He remained quiet as Ghost snuggled closer to Gaz, his nose tucked safely into the crook of Gaz's neck.

"We shoulda said something sooner. We kinda like ya." Ghost mumbled, and before Gaz could finish processing the statement, the former was already snoring softly. Gaz let out a soft gasp as he hugged Ghost a bit tighter, taking a moment to rub his nose into the soft blond hair of Ghost's head.

"I figured." Gaz whispered before relaxing into the pillows and falling asleep with Ghost.

~~~~~

Soap needed a recharge by the time he and Price got back. His first stop was his own quarters, where he spent half an hour idly chewing on an exposed wire. It was still rather early for Ghost to be awake, and seeing as Soap didn't really need to sleep, he didn't want to disturb the human. Especially considering he'd have to deal with said human's temper the rest of the day.

Once he decided he could get away with accidentally waking Ghost and not have it lead to dealing with a grumpy man, Soap left his room. It was a short walk down a few halls before he reached the lieutenant's room. He opened the door as quietly as possible, but nearly let all the effort into sneaking around go to waste.

He managed to stop himself before gasping loudly upon seeing Ghost curled into Gaz's side, both deeply asleep. Soap smiled and fought down his excitement as he moved closer to the bed.

"Sh, go back teh sleep, Dove." Soap whispered as Gaz opened his eyes and began to stir a bit. The siren slowly blinked at him before nodding.

"Does this mean I can stay?" Gaz mumbled, and despite the simple question, Soap understood it to apply to their relationship. Soap let out a small chuckle as he kissed Gaz's nose, earning a sleepy smile.

"Of course. We'd be lost without you." Soap mumbled before placing another kiss on Gaz's nose and one on Ghost's temple. He crammed himself into the small space between Ghost and the wall, perfectly content to lie there the whole day.

No one needed to know Ghost had been awake for the whole thing. He was living a life he never thought, never dared to dream of having.

Safe, content, and so effortlessly loved between the two most incredible, handsome men he's ever known.

Taglist (want added?): @tacticaltaxonomist @cthulhusstepmom @cathnoneofyourbusiness @thorougly-melted-brains @sp4z-4tt4ck @49saltpeppershakers @bluebrryice

[27dragons]

“I used to be a writer”

When I think of fanfiction writers, you’re the first one I think of.

I used to wake up excited every Saturday to read the new Sandbridge.

I smile when I see my copy of one of your books on my shelf.

Those tags were likely not meant to be self-deprecating, and I realize you mean that lately you are a lurker more than a writer, but I just really want to make sure you understand that I’ll never not think of you as a writer and one of the biggest fandom influences I’ve had.

Aw, Anon, that's such a sweet thing to say!!! (Also much love to @holistic-alcoholic, who added a very similar message to their reblog of the original poll.)

I love so much knowing that I've affected people so much and so positively.

And you are correct; I did not, in fact, mean my tags to be self-deprecating, simply factual. I haven't written regularly since late 2020, and though I enjoyed a surge of creativity this spring/summer with Sandman, I haven't written anything else since the end of July. Or even tried very much.

Last year, I was berating myself for my lack of writing productivity, but right now, I'm okay with it. Instead of writing, I've been pursuing other creative outlets -- I've been playing around with bookbinding, working on a Good Omens cross-stitch, and have just recently jumped into my brother's weekly D&D game. And entirely apart from fandom-related stuff, I did some container gardening over the summer (and made So Many pickles when I could not keep up with the cucumber vine's production), picked DuoLingo back up to try to learn some Spanish, and am teaching Thing2 how to drive. So it's not like I fell into a pit of depression and haven't been able to do ANYthing.

AO3 says I have just over 4 million words of fic posted. Even if you take into account that tisfan co-wrote a lot of that with me, that's a pretty impressive amount of writing! More than enough that I do still mostly consider myself "a writer" -- even if I never post or write another word.

Thank you so much for your lovely words of support and encouragement -- it means more than I can say that anyone thought it was worth reaching out. My readers are absolutely the best. 💛❤️🖤

[azurelyy]

Heyyy I hope your day is going great!!! :))

May I request a narutoxfem!reader where the reader is going through a break up and naruto comforts the reader and later on he confesses his feelings towards the reader. I hope this makes sense 😭 anyways tyyy :))

Btw I love your writing 🫶🫶🫶

Hi, lovely Anon! Thank you very much for the request. I am so sorry this took so long.

I think friends to lovers stories turn me feral, because I uh... Yeah. I went overboard. @uchihabbynic @tired-biscuit tagging you as requested! I hope this can help quench your Naruto thirst 🥵

Title: Dream Theater 🍋

Words: 5.8k

Ship: Naruto x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, hurt/comfort, hand job, blow job, overstimulation, threesome, praise, soft dom!Naruto, fingering, very pussy drunk!Naruto, tit fucking, pearl necklace.

Mentions: Shikamaru & Hinata

Days like today humbled Naruto by reminding him that even the most powerful of Shinobi have that special something that freezes their hearts; a certain concoction that imprisons their souls by dangling hope’s dazzling light over them before snuffing it out and leaving them alone in the infinite darkness.  But for Naruto, that something wasn’t a power-hungry Uchiha, or almighty gods that were up to no good; no, what Naruto feared above all else, was the fury of a beautiful woman scorned. 

He was not prepared for this. Your voice was like a firecracker as you wept out profanities and self-deprecating remarks, flailing your arms wildly with no regard for your surrounds (or Naruto’s face, which you had smacked a few dozen times), your button nose redder than Rudolph’s as you continued to assault it with the paper-thin fabric, a mixture of snot and tears coating them as you tossed the tissues to the birch hardwood beneath your feet. Your hair was all askew, your cute matching pajama set was wrinkled with one leg pulled up to your calf and the other fully pulled down, as you paced back and forth along the length of your living room, the box of tissues Naruto followed you around with nearly empty, as you finally collapsed to the couch, defeated.

“Why didn’t he want to marry me?” You cried, blowing your nose harshly.

Naruto hesitated. Was this a trick question? Should he answer this? The truth was, he didn’t know the answer. Shikamaru never discussed your relationship, both he and Naruto respected you far too much to get into the dirty details - those were saved for one-night stands and short flings - but for long term partners, especially ones that were friends first, the secrets of the bedroom stayed locked away. The reality was, Shikamaru was meant to tell you the answer a year and a half ago - but it looks like he never did.

Naruto reached into the box, pulling out the last tissue and handing it to you gently as you tossed the old one, wrapping his arm around you to allow you to cry into his broad shoulder. You truly were a mess right now, as you blew into his shirt like an elephant, but he didn’t mind. He kissed the top of your head as you cloaked your arms around his waist and wailed, hot tears seeping onto his skin and sliding down his back. 

“Because Shikamaru is a dumbass.” Naruto decided to answer, rubbing your upper arm. 

A humorless, deflated chuckle rumbled from your chest through the hiccups. “H-He’s literally a genius.” The last word barely escaped your lips as you sobbed even harder, your grip around Naruto tightening and surprising him as you managed to force a cough from the pressure you put against his stomach.

“So?” He asked. “He’s always been an idiot when it comes to women, and he was a special kind of stupid when it came to you.”

You sniffled loudly and pulled back, shooting the saddest smile Naruto had ever seen right into his heart, the force impaling him to the couch. He reached his free hand up and smoothed out your hair, trailing his thumb against your cheek to catch the final few tears that toppled from the edge of your dazzling eyes. You wiped your nose with the last tissue and watched as it slowly fluttered to the white-cotton graveyard beneath your feet as you collapsed into the crook of Naruto’s neck once again, sighing. 

Your warm breath tickled his Adam’s apple as he swallowed a cluster of lust and adoration. He was certain that you could hear his banging heartbeat as you nuzzled into his neck and crawled onto his lap. He grunted softly as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and cradled you to him, wanting to shelter you from ever feeling this way again. 

Naruto and Shikamaru had an honor code - a rule that had transcended all else in their decades of friendship - it was unbroken and unspoken, yet it hung over their heads like an ax before a beheading: No dating each other’s exes. 

This code was the bane of Naruto’s very existence. When Shikamaru had first told him that you two were dating, Naruto felt his soul get sucked away into a vortex and his heart fall into the pit of his stomach. He had never admitted to Shikamaru that he had a crush on you - he didn’t know how, considering Shikamaru had told him first. It was a rare thing: Shikamaru having interest in anything, and especially anyone. 

“Really?” Naruto asked, his voice muffled as he chewed his inner cheek. “You’ve never told me about your crushes before.”

“Never had one.” Shikamaru shrugged and pulled out a cigarette. “But she’s… I mean, you know her. She’s special.” 

“Yeah,” Naruto agreed, clenching his fists as he looked to the starry sky as Shikamaru’s cigarette smoke swirled into the cold night air. “She is.”

So, what was Naruto to do other than smile and say how great it was, and that you two were made for each other, as each of his organs slowly withered away inside of him. He remained friends with both of you. He wasn’t the type of person to let a vendetta stew for long, and he had to admit, you two really were good together - for awhile. You played off each other like practiced musicians; inside jokes and longing looks were hard to not take notice of at every social gathering the two of you attended. Naruto remained neutral as Switzerland during the break-up, providing a shoulder to cry on for you and a soap-box for Shikamaru to stand on for him. 

“I don’t know, Naruto, alright?!” Shikamaru shouted, running a hand through his pointier-than-usual ponytail. “I just… don’t.”

Naruto sucked down his rage. “I hate to say this,” he crossed his arms and stood before his best friend, bolting him to the ground with his narrowed gaze. “But that’s fucked up. You need to tell her why you won’t marry her. Poor girl’s gonna have a complex.”

“I-” Shikamaru fumbled out a cigarette, cursing as it fell to the black concrete. He lit another one with shaking hands and sucked it between his teeth. “I know, but-”

“But nothing!” Naruto angrily took the death-stick from the man’s mouth and threw it to the pavement, crushing it with his foot while ignoring Shikamaru’s protests. “You must have some reason.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Shikamaru aloofly slid his hands into his front pockets and looked down, watching the cigarette tumble away in the wind. “She just… deserves more than me. I want my freedom. I can’t be… locked down, right now.”

“That’s not the reason and you know it.” Naruto turned on his heel to leave, stopping a few feet away to crane his neck back towards Shikamaru. “Have a heart and be honest with her, that’s all I’m saying. She loves you.” 

He walked away, loud silence trailing slowly behind. He went straight to your apartment that night and watched you crumble. You tried to tell him he could leave several times, but Naruto was stubborn and wouldn’t budge, just continued to sit next to you on the couch and watched rom-coms with you, immediately switching to the next movie whenever the credits rolled. It seemed like so long ago now, and eventually, Shikamaru had moved on. Naruto felt terrible when you’d heard the news off-handedly from Hinata, who casually mentioned that Shikamaru and Temari were getting “pretty serious.” You had politely excused yourself from the table and left the bar completely as Naruto glared at his now-ex, flabbergasted.

“Hinata, seriously?” He asked, tapping his fingers nervously on the table.

“I-I’m sorry, Naruto-kun,” she whispered. “I thought you had told her.”

Naruto rolled his eyes and grabbed for his wallet, murmuring profanities as he laid enough cash down to pay for the table. “It’s not your fault,” he assured. “I want to go home.”

Sakura returned from the bathroom and looked surprised as they left the bar. Naruto heard Sasuke mutter something to her as he guided himself and Hinata out, his eyes darting around madly in search of any sign of you, but you were long gone.

Comforting silence filled the room as Naruto traced the curve of your shoulder blades through your shirt, the silk fabric soft on his finger as he imagined how your skin would feel pushed against his bare chest as you moaned his name and he circled your cunt with his cock. Jesus, Uzumaki. He thought. Really not the time. He kissed the top of your head and inhaled your intoxicating perfume, allowing himself to be lost in every inch of you while you pulled yourself back together. 

“Naruto,” you said softly, pulling away to look at him. His navy blue eyes were brewing with a storm, rough on the surface and cutting deep into your heart. His sparkling white teeth sucked on his plush pink lower lip as he hummed at you in response, giving you a quizzical look. “I’m sorry. I’m being stupid. I really am over it, it’s just-”

He reached between your bodies to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and your mind grew hazy as his citrus shampoo danced around the air, ensnaring you in an orange orchard in early spring, the air sweet as honey. 

“What?” He asked, urging you to continue. His fine mouth formed into a half smirk and you felt the need to crash your lips onto his and wipe it off his face.

Instead, you cleared your throat and moved your hands from his waist to his thighs. “He dated me for three years,” you paused to take a deep breath. “And he didn’t want to marry me. But he dates her for… what? A year, maybe? And they’re engaged?”

“Like I said,” Naruto laughed coolly, “He’s a dumbass.” 

You smiled at him and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. It was fast, as all your kisses to Naruto typically were, and it left you hungry for his hands to roam across your body as he branded your inner-thigh with his teeth. His hand dragged down your spine, goosebumps trailing his touch like a fire does oil, as he kissed your nose. 

Hinata and Naruto had broken up just a few months ago, after two years of dating. It was a bad breakup, nearly topping your own with Shikamaru, and it made you feel for the poor girl. She had never been your favorite person - she was clingy and didn’t seem to have much regard when it came to your feelings, sometimes forgetting that you and Shikamaru had ever dated - but she didn’t handle the breakup well. Naruto had come over right after with a small backpack and a sheepish grin, his hair dripping down his shoulders as the rain pelted against him. You rushed him inside and handed him a towel to dry off with as he continued apologizing to you, stating he didn’t know where else to go. 

He stayed with you for a whole week before securing his own apartment, and he told you all about the breakup and his reasoning. You assured him that he wasn’t a bad person and that this was ultimately not just the best thing for him, but Hinata too, and that someday she’d come to see that. It hurt you to admit this to him, because it touched your heart deeply, reminding you of why Shikamaru had left you just a year prior. 

I just think… you want things I can’t give you. That was how he’d left it, before stepping off your porch and strolling down the street, as though he hadn’t just wasted three years of his life with someone who he clearly never gave a shit about. 

Living with Naruto was difficult. You woke up every day feeling like a cat was clawing at your stomach, trying to escape, as your mind screamed at you to just tell him already - to ruin your friendship and pounce on him like a predator does its kill - but instead you’d sit at the table and look at listings with him, lending out your feminine eye and telling him if a place looked unkempt. When he left, your apartment felt like a stranger’s, and you went into your room and cried until the sun had set beyond the horizon and the crickets had started chirping their song of the night, wishing for Naruto’s warm embrace as you faded away into a sad slumber.

He rested his forehead on yours, his lips brushing against your own as your heart leapt into your throat, cutting off your airway. You licked your bottom lip and hovered your mouth over his, biding your time to see what he would do. His hand rested on the small of your back, a calloused finger gingerly circling an indecipherable pattern on your skin that was exposed from your shirt being awkwardly crumbled around your body, an after effect of your chaotic meltdown from earlier.

He smiled and pressed his lips to yours, striking you down with lightning as your fingers reflexively twitched on his muscular thighs. His large hand cupped your cheek as he pulled his mouth back, his forehand still planted on yours as your breathing turned shallow. That kiss was… different. That wasn’t the stereotypical “Naruto kiss” you’d received from him countless times before; it was daring and bold; it was dark and twisted; it was soothing and welcoming.  

You kissed him again, your lips melding to his like lost puzzle pieces as he lightly pushed you closer to him, waves of kisses washing against your lips as the two of you kept touching and releasing, touching and releasing. You opened your mouth as he feverishly deepened the kiss, angling his head to the side and pushing his tongue against yours. His breath was hot and cinnamony, tingling around your mouth like pop rocks as he moaned lowly and gripped his hand into your hair, tangling himself into your locks.

You dug your nails into his strong thighs as your tongues danced together, pressure bubbling beneath your skin as you grew confident and trailed your hand to his erection, lightly stroking him through his pants. He sucked on your bottom lip as you increased your pace, wrapping your small hand around his girth needily as he raked his nails against the small of your back. Was this really happening? He gripped onto your wrist, freezing you in place. There was thunder in your heart as you pulled back to look into his sinful eyes, his nose flaring and his breathing heavy. 

“Not yet.” He tightened his grip around you and maneuvered his hand from your wrist to behind your knees, hoisting you up to his chest bridal style as he stood up and started walking towards your bedroom. “M’gonna play with you first, alright?” 

He stood above the bed with you in his arms, his eyes twinkling with mischief and yearning, a wicked grin growing on his face. You nodded shyly and crashed your lips to his harshly, your teeth clicking together, a small burst of laughter erupting from his chest. 

“Ow,” he complained teasingly as he plopped you to the bed. “No self control, huh?” He trapped your legs between his knees as he caged your face with his hands, planting them on either side of your head as he peered down at you. He kissed your forehead gingerly, working his way down your temple, avoiding your mouth and licking the shell of your ear.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, haunting over your earlobe. You listened to the cicadas chirping outside and Naruto’s shallow breathing as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his temple. His heartbeat was drumming loudly in the stillness of the mutual pining, driving you slowly out of your mind.

“I-Is it okay for you?” You questioned, slightly insecure now.

He answered you with a light chuckle and a kiss to your ear as he whispered, “I’ve dreamt about this for years.”

“N-Naruto,” you whimpered as he kissed his way to your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth hungrily. “Me too.” 

He pushed one hand off the bed and rolled it down your body, mapping out the curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the pudge of your stomach, before landing upon your throbbing pussy. He hummed into your neck, vibrating your pulse point, as he took his index finger and trailed it along your slit through your clothes, wet fabric sticking against your sopping cunt. You curved your hips upwards, catching his arousal on your entrance as a stifled moan slipped through your lips. 

“So wet already?” He teased, adjusting his stance so he could push his knee between your thighs, the pressure forming black dots in your vision as you pleadingly tugged the hem of his shirt upwards. He undid the buttons of your sleep shirt one-by-one, nosing down your neck, licking your skin and leaving love bits along his path before sucking in the skin of the top of your breast into his mouth, his free hand circling across your clit through your clothes.

You sounded sexy. Naruto couldn’t believe all this noise was just for him as he continued to enrapture every inch of your body, bruising your delicate skin sinfully and blowing cool air to soothe the purple seal he left on your tit. 

“Fuck, Naruto-” You gasped as your shirt fell open and he pawed at your hard nipple, his hot tongue licking around your other boob sensually, circling over your aereola like a vulture. “S-stop teasing me.” 

“Are you telling me what to do?” He jerked away from you, cold air stinging your peaks and forcing them to stand at attention as you whined and clung desperately to his shirt that he refused to remove, only the faintest hint of the sun-kissed skin of his stomach peeking out at you from underneath his orange t-shirt. You flashed him a wicked grin, your fangs fully exposed, and raked your index finger over his tight stomach. Two could play at this game.

“Not telling you what to do,” you murmured quietly, pitching your volume down and forcing him to lean in and hover his face close to yours. “But-” you kissed his chin, working your way to his mouth. He whimpered lowly as he moved closer to you, your noses brushing against each other. Right where you wanted him. “Want you to do what you dreamt of all these years. Want you to show me.”

Naruto snapped as your hot mouth rolled onto his, your needy hands working at his t-shirt in a desperate attempt at disrobing him. He slid his way down your body, kissing every inch of exposed skin along the way, before the mattress sprung up slightly and he fully got off the bed. You tried to give him a snarky comment but a war-hardened hand silenced you by harshly pressing over your mouth as you were dragged down the bed by your ankles. A confused and muffled scream shot from your throat as Naruto sat on his knees on the bed and slid your head into his lap, bending over to beam down at you. His head hung above you as he moved his hand from your mouth and captured your lips onto his in an upside-down kiss. Your pajama pants were dragged down your legs and you kicked and writhed around, but Naruto kept kissing you as though this were completely normal.

“It’s me.” Naruto’s voice laughed from down the bed and you bit… Other Naruto’s? upper lip in shock. He pulled away and smiled down at you warmly, his golden hair cascading down around you like a sunlit tunnel welcoming you to heaven. “We’re, uh… Well, it’s all me.” 

Oh, holy fuck. You reached upwards and traced Above Naruto’s whisker scars that adorned his cheeks, looking into his ocean eyes. He gave you a wink and played with your hair, before once again covering your mouth with his hand and twisting your taut nipple between his two fingers.

“Y-You weren’t wearing panties?” Below Naruto gulped, his knees pressing into the plush carpet as he ran his index finger along your slit, coating it with your sticky arousal. You made a strangled sound and he burst into laughter, the hot air caressing against your swollen lips. “That’s right, you can’t answer me.” He pushed his finger onto your hard nub, lightly swiping your clit side to side as you bit into Above Naruto’s hand. He stuck his middle finger into you and dragged them down to your entrance, drenching himself with you. 

“So slick,” Below Naruto murmured. He slipped his fingers out of you and painted your inner-thigh in your sweet essence. You grasped onto the forest green sheets with white knuckles as you bucked your hips upwards towards his mouth. He swiped his tongue at you and you tensed your legs as a strong hand pushed your stomach down onto the bed. 

“You asked for this, remember?” Above Naruto chided, earning another bite to his hand. You murmured something along the lines of this is torture - please just fuck me, whichever one - I don’t care as Below Naruto swiped his tongue up along the length of your cunt, roaming languidly across your walls before sucking your clit into his mouth.

Hot pressure built up in the air around your body as Above Naruto slid your head off his lap and laid down next to you, a firm hand still over your mouth, and nibbled onto your swollen nipple. His free arm snaked underneath your waist and arched you upwards, allowing Below Naruto a better angle as he continued lapping at your pussy, generously licking and sucking at your clit with a lyrical pace. 

Above Naruto slid two fingers between your lips, his knuckles dangling from your mouth as you sucked mercilessly, gagging and writhing from the pleasure both men inflicted upon you. He chuckled, a low and dangerous thing, as you moved your hand to his pants and slowly undid his zipper. You gasped as you wrapped your hand around his cock, pulling him free as hot liquid clung between your fingers and you stroked along his length, tears welling in your eyes as his thick fingers glided up and down your throat.

“You don’t even care which of us is real, do you? You just want my dick that bad, yeah?” Your head was buzzing with pining and anticipation, your sense of direction completely inhibited. You didn’t care which Naruto was talking to you - which was fondling your breasts or which was lapping at your core - you needed him, and you didn’t care how you got it.

You increased the pace of your strokes on him, earning grunts of your name and praises from the men. You dipped the pad of your index finger into his slit as more seed dripped from him, oozing down your hand, and you both continued your dirty dancing in the dark of the bedroom. Your free hand reached above your head to grip onto Naruto’s soft hair; it was slightly wet from sweat and adrenaline; your heart palpitated and blood rushed to your cheeks and ears as a mountain of pressure brewed deep within your stomach.

Pure bliss enveloped all your senses as the two Naruto’s ravished your body. You were but a vessel for their pleasure, allowing them to claw at you like fiends as your mind went numb and your body melted into the sheets. Your toes curled as the coil in your stomach clenched tightly, pressure building up within you and boiling your blood. The sounds you were making drove Below Naruto mad with ardor, pushing him to his limit as he hastily used his free hand to spring his cock from its trapped state and stroked himself, mixing your arousal that lingered on his fingers with his own pre-cum as he continued lapping at your pretty pussy, gliding his head up and down your length while the flat of his tongue stayed planted against your clit.

Your strokes on him slowed and became sloppy as a disgraceful groan swirled around your cunt and Below Naruto fucked you with his mouth, the timber of his voice low and seductive, rumbling into your stomach and edging you over the cliffside as you orgasmed. Your entire body rippled beneath the men’s hard grasp over you as waves of pleasure and sinful liquid spilled out of you, drowning Below Naruto in a sea of sex. He kept his tongue steady as he drank you up, wetting his chin and mouth with you as Above Naruto stopped your strokes against him and brought your hand to his for a kiss, removing his fingers from your mouth.

“Holy fuck.” Naruto whispered, climbing on top of you and swirling his tongue over yours, a deliciously sweet mixture of your essence and his saliva coating your mouth as you heard a small poof and he pulled your hands up over your head and interlocked his fingers with yours. 

Waves of pleasure melted over Naruto as every tantalizing touch, every shiver of your body, and every swipe of your hand against his dick slammed into him like a train as his Shadow Clone returned to him. He shivered heavily, his lips trembling against yours, as pinpricks and goosebumps enveloped over his entire body and soul. You were a perfect pixie - all needy and whiny and hazy - beneath him. He enjoyed making a mess of you. He intended to keep you as his mess forever, willing to clean you up always; to pick you up and take you where he wanted for all time - his own little locket that he could cherish everywhere and anywhere.

“You want me?” He grunted, nibbling your bottom lip. You nodded, your brain hazy, words escaping you. He hummed and rolled over, his fingers leaving yours as freezing air seeped where his hands once were and he guided you on top of him. You saw his fully erect dick, finally able to gawk at it properly. He was massive. You gulped, nervous as to how, exactly, this was going to happen.

“You want me to do what I dreamt about, cutie?” He teased, guiding your hand to his cock. Your hands rubbed down him gently as sparks flew around the air, igniting the room fully as you languidly stroked him. “Wrap that pretty mouth around me, then.”

You examined the situation, felt his cock oozing in your hand, saw his damnable orange t-shirt that still shielded his muscular body from you, and you disobeyed the command of your friend. You rolled your hips over him, your clit catching against his tip, as you moaned and removed his t-shirt aggressively. Naruto jerked upwards, catching himself onto your entrance to help you get the shirt off, sensual sounds filling the air as you both clawed at each other like animals. You sucked the skin of his neck into your mouth, biting and trailing your nails over his abs, as he jerked himself off beneath you. You licked down his pecs, his toned tummy, hummed against his adorable light blonde happy trail, before you hovered your mouth over his reddened head, furious and ready. 

You delicately wrapped your mouth around his tip, gripping onto his hand and guiding it to rest on your head as he happily pushed you further down, needily begging for you the way you did him moments ago. You grabbed onto his loaded balls and rubbed them carefully as his head fell to the pillow and he breathed out your name, his white teeth shining in the faint light that shone in from the crack in the door. 

He pushed your head further down as you gagged and hot tears formed in your eyes as Naruto broke beneath you. He arched his hips up lightly, forcing himself deeper, as his grip in your hair tightened and you moved your hand from his balls to your swollen clit. He pulled you up by your hair, his teeth gritted and sweat beading along his toned body, as he shook his head vigorously.

“Gotta-Gotta fuck you.” He husked. “C’mon, cutie.”

You adjusted slightly and hovered your slick cunt over his well-endowed cock, your breath hitching in the back of your throat as Naruto guided you by your hips and slowly lowered you onto him. You gripped onto his chest, his little blonde hairs tickling the pads of your fingers, as your walls stretched out and a deep moan erupted from your core as warmth flooded your stomach. 

The aggression of his libido didn’t come as a surprise to you. He was the strongest shinobi in the world, so you expected for him to have the ability to demolish you for hours on end if he chose. What did surprise you was the amount of absolute control Naruto held over you. Your precious friend, the golden-hearted hero, was actually a monster in the sheets. He commanded you gently, never forcing himself, but always reminding you of who was in charge. He took hold of your heart swiftly, tossing the key to the wayside, sweet clanging against concrete, as he fucked you like it was your first time.

You were so tight around him, your walls slick with arousal, your little mewls pleading and desperate as your nails dug into the skin of his chest. You were better than his fantasies in every conceivable way - he couldn’t believe you wanted him in the same way he wanted you - as he inched himself deeper inside of you and watched as a little line formed between your eyebrows; your mouth hanging open in a tiny ‘o’ as he bottomed out inside you.

“You feel good.” His voice was pure desire, laced with temptation and a deep ruggedness that you had no idea he was capable of making. His dick was so hot inside you, warming its way up your stomach, as he thrust his hips upwards, singing his sexual song as his dick curved deep into your walls and directly hit your G-spot.

“S-shit,” you grunted, your boobs bouncing with each thrust. “Naruto, y-you…you’re so big.”

He rolled his hand from your hip to your stomach, grabbing at the plush skin, the pace of his thrusts maddening as he continued railing into you. His entire body rippled beneath you as your walls clenched around him, fire in your stomach, sweat beading down your forehead. You were like Aphrodite herself, bouncing on his dick, your expression lewd and needy. Naruto felt electricity course through his veins as he rubbed your tummy, his toes curling downwards as your pussy quivered around his girth.

“Feel me in here, yeah?” He gripped onto your lower-stomach as your breathing became ragged. “Fill you up, don’t I?” 

“Naruto, I’m gonna-” 

Your legs trembled as you reached another climax, your entire body quivering and your pussy clenching tightly around him as you shattered into a million fragments. Your hands twitched as you fell forward onto your arms on top of him, each muscle spasming harshly as hot liquid squirted around his dick and soaked his upper thighs, sliding its way down to the sheets. Naruto grit his teeth and slowed his pace, fucking you gently as you open-mouth kissed his stomach and continued chanting his name like a sacred soliloquy. 

“Wanna fuck your tits,” he grunted. He wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over, peppering light kissing along your shoulders and chest. “M’close, just-fuck-” He caged your upper-arms with his knees as he placed his dick between your breasts and you pushed them together, enveloping them around his sopping manhood.

“Is this what you thought of when you were touching yourself to me, hm?” You teased, moving your tits up and down his length, pushing them together tightly as his head fell back and he gripped into your hair. He was so close to breaking, each movement of your sweet skin against his cock coursing ecstasy through his veins as blood rushed to his ears and white noise surrounded him. He shut his eyes tightly as the warmth in his stomach spread throughout his soul and he whispered your name towards the ceiling. 

“Goddamn, g-gonna come.” He angled his tip gently towards your neck as he drained his balls over you, white-hot seed rippling out of him and coating your collarbones and seeping between your breasts. He was so warm as he crumbled above you, a delicate daffodil that had grown claws, as he slowly reverted back to normal. He praised you endlessly as his dick twitched between your breasts, his voice sexier than a saxophone.

“Holy shit,” he said, collapsing next to you and stroking your cheek. “That was-”

“Better than a dream?” You asked, leaning over to kiss him gently. He smiled against your mouth.

“Way better,” he agreed. “Stay there, I’ll help clean you up.”

He returned a moment later with a wet and dry towel, wiping away the mess on your chest and kissing each place he cleaned, praising something about you after every peck. Love your cute mouth - love your boobs - love the way you look when I fuck you - love your little moans - round and round he went, until you were completely cleaned up and he tossed the towels into the laundry bin and spooned you to his arms, sheltering your body in his strong hold and wrapping his muscular leg over yours as he kissed your shoulder. 

“Do I even want to know what else we did in your dreams?” You asked, pushing your ass against his still erect length. He hummed into your skin, sending a chill from your shoulder muscles down your spine. 

“Wanna know about yours next,” he trailed his hot mouth to the back of your neck and kissed the nape. “Wanna know everything about you.”

You laughed and held his hand that rested on your stomach, interlocking your fingers with his. “You already know everything about me, Naru.”

“Oh?” He asked, trailing his tongue to your earlobe and sucking the plump skin between his front teeth. “I dunno about that. I learned a lot just today.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as he sighed into your ear contentedly, his hips pushing against your ass as his arousal harshly poked into your skin. “I-I guess there might be a few things you don’t know…” He unwove his fingers from yours and rolled it to your breast, toying with your nipple as it started perking up. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger as he laughed huskily, swirling the little nub around.

“Tell me what I did to you in your fantasies, cutie,” he nibbled on your shoulder gently, sharp teeth scraping against your skin. “And I’ll do it.”

Please consider reblogging to support my work & thanks for reading!

[dykejaskier]

Ik you said this ages ago and in the tags of a post, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on Rüdeger and his mental health

anon i'm down on one knee proposing rn thank you for sending this in

stray thoughts and ramblings (sorry if this is messy, it's getting to 6 am and i have Not slept):

i'm really curious as to how his identity interacts with his faith. from my understanding, monasteries were intended to be safe havens away from the secular world (my notes from a course on early mediaeval monasticism call them "a place where a life similar to that of the angels takes place, a harbour of calm that resists the storms of the world of outside") - and so he's in this space that's meant to be separated from "sin" but at the same time, he's living in it through his identity* and relationship (at least according to the institution he's a part of). i'd love to know how he views himself, the church, the concept of sin in the first place - like obviously he's terrified of anyone finding out about them, but from memory it's expressed more so as worry over mathieu? which in turn makes me wonder if that's because he's at peace with his own fate due to self-deprecating reasons and so doesn't bother worrying about himself (i'm sinful and will go to hell regardless but mathieu deserves better) or if he thinks there's nothing sinful about their relationship in the first place (and so persecuting mathieu, the man he loves, over it, is unfathomable and unfair) [*i'm aware that the concept of queerness as an identity is more contemporary, but i couldn't think of a better word]

also curious as to how he ended up at kiersau. we don't know his backstory - how'd he end up becoming a monk? did something happen to drive him towards it? is there a precedent for him running away from things (if andreas blackmails him and mathieu, he leaves, i think to protect mathieu)? inquiring minds would like to know

hc time: i think that the town turning on them in act II feels that much more terrifying because while they're not persecuting him because of his queerness, it's entirely likely that they/others would, if their relationship was revealed. so the whole thing is like a manifestation of his worst fears. no wonder he's upstairs having a panic attack

SPEAKING OF. anxiety girlie who gets panic attacks and self-soothes by singing. and i'm sure mathieu's presence calms him (doubly so because mathieu's probably the only person in his life who gets it. who understands him. who sees him without that act of perceiving being judgemental)

another question: what does rüdeger himself think of his mental health issues? we have the language to describe it now, with modern terms, but - and not to paint with a broad stroke - a 16th century monk probably wouldn't necessarily internalise something like a panic attack as being a health issue, but rather a spiritual affliction. which brings me back to wondering how he thinks of himself, and of god, and if it's possible he views his issues as a divine punishment (like how some fundies describe depression as like. being something given to them by the devil? that they can pray away?)

in my self-indulgent hc, he feels better after leaving kiersau. mathieu getting a big promotion probably brings new anxieties but at the same time, makes them just a bit more untouchable. also, if andreas was not an asshole about discovering them in the library, i feel that'd give him an opportunity to see that people can be good and understanding about him/them (though i also have a feeling that rüdeger is the type of person to believe the best about people, at least when's he's not actively spiralling. mathieu does describe him as "a gentle soul" and "a kind and thoughtful man")

that's all i have for now. i love him and mathieu so much, they deserve everything <3

[specialinterestshows]

Learn a little bit about Liv Morgan in this section of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic.

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed), self-deprecating thoughts

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 34 of ?): Worry Less, Liv Mor(gan)

Introducing yourself, you pause before shaking the blonde woman’s fishnet- covered hand with your uninjured one.

“Nice to meet you, Liv Morgan,” you said, recognizing her name. You hadn’t realized she was so… pretty.

“Are you new to WWE or something?” Liv asks, looking intently at your face, “You don’t look familiar.”

“Oh I don’t work for the company,” you laugh, already feeling your interrupted smoke session kicking in a bit, “I was invited by one of the wrestlers; I’ll just be watching the show tonight.”

“Who invited you?” she asked, curious.

“… Rhea Ripley,” you reply, looking down at your tender hand as you thought of what happened earlier.

“Oh,” Liv said in a way that made you look up, raising an eyebrow, “You’re the one people keep talking about. She finally came out because of you!”

“Heh, yeah…” you instinctively move to play with the hem of your skirt, groaning as you realize your injured hand is definitely still swollen.

“Oh no, what happened?” Liv asked, compassion heavy in her voice as you cradled your hand, “Do we need to get you to medical?”

“I was just there,” you explain, avoiding the first question as well as the eyes of the beautiful woman in front of you, “They said it’s not that bad.”

“How did it happen?” Liv asked again, noticing your evasion of her question.

How were you supposed to admit the truth? Even after what Dominik said, you felt as if you could have prevented this - either by having smoked less or by having been more careful once you sensed something off during the situation.

“Here, let me show you where you can watch the show backstage,” Liv said when you let silence hang in the air a bit too long.

Following her, you do your best to remember where to turn to come back and smoke again later. The movement of Liv Morgan’s hips and the length (or lack thereof) of her shorts as she led you down the hall made it a difficult task.

“This is the place!” Liv declares cheerily, stretching out her arms in both directions as the two of you enter a room with a couple of couches and a table arranged around the large television mounted to the wall. The screen currently had nothing but a revolving WWE logo on it, but no sound was playing.

“You’ll get the stream from the live camera once the show starts,” she explains, “so you’ll see everything the audience sees.”

“Thanks for showing me,” you say, setting your bag on a couch and flopping down next to it, “This is way better than sitting in the middle of a crowd.” Particularly since these couches were so comfortable, you thought, sighing as you relax into the cushions.

“Happy to help!” Liv says, sitting on the arm of the other couch, “So. You probably know that Rhea and I used to be tag-team partners.”

“She never brought it up,” you say, vaguely remembering the time she mentioned wrestling against her.

Liv sighs, “Of course not. I guess it’s been long enough since then.”

“What happened?” now it’s your turn to ask.

“I had feelings for her,” she replied, surprising you with her honesty, “But either she didn’t feel the same or she wasn’t ready to come out. And then there were the outbursts she would have…”

She glanced at your hand before looking you in the eyes again, “Anyway. I need to go get warmed up.”

She stood, bridging the short distance between the couches and saying, “Come find me if you need anything else” - she gently places a hand on your arm and gives a small squeeze - “I mean it.”

“Thanks, Liv,” you respond, your face growing warm, watching her smile, “See you around.”

Looking up at the eternally-spinning WWE logo you contemplate what Liv meant when she said “anything else.” The two conclusions you came up with were: either Liv thought things were going badly between you and Rhea and wanted to let you know she was interested in you, or she thought things were going so badly between you and Rhea that Rhea was mistreating you. Neither possibility made you feel particularly fantastic. Liv Morgan, on the other hand…

[end part thirty-four of ?]

Part 35: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/727046469651234816/absolute-smokeshow-part-35-of-this-is-my

-

Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909

[thebumblecee]

Year in review - fic writer edition

I was tagged by the lovely @alrightbuckaroo a couple days back, thank you for that ♥️ and i was most definitely included by other people but I’ve not had my head in the game recently, so fuck it I’m doing it now.

Rules: share your top three/top five/however many favourite snippets/lines/quotes/paragraphs from your published fics (or wips) and don’t forget to share the link ofc!

I considered doing everything i published in 2023 but lets be real its mostly porn, so i cherry picked

I didn’t know I was starving till I tasted you

There’s a self-deprecating part of him that considers the blow to his self-esteem if he doesn’t excel at it. He’s very good at what he does but he might not be so good at what Owen Strand’s team does. He doesn’t want that bruise to his ego.

They break away from their little tête à tête and no one except Paul notices it. He was always told he was perceptive. He raises his eyebrow questioningly, but Carlos plays dumb.

Instead, he challenges Owen’s generosity with his team. “Are you sure you want to order that champagne sir? It’s $250.”

There’s a cheer from the surrounding seats and Owen laughs. “Touché.” Carlos won’t confess it but he’s a little scared to look at TK. The boy hasn’t touched a drink except mineral water all night. Basically, snatching his glass away when Carlos went to pour his wine. Privacy. Respect it.

It’s bad when his conscience sounds like Owen Strand.

Something so wholesome

TK didn’t bring it up again that night and Carlos couldn’t be more grateful. He saw the flash of hurt that went through TK’s eyes when he said he wasn’t like that. Try as he might to conceal his feelings TK is an open book when he’s being vulnerable.

It’s killing Carlos that he hurt his feelings and he doesn’t think he has the words to explain what he meant by it. He’s tried before and the other person ended up storming out and blocking his number.

His luck runs out a few nights later when TK brings it up when they’re cuddling on the couch. Carlos is lazily trailing his hand up TK’s forearm as they watch the TV. He feels contented love settling into his bones.

“What did you mean when you said you weren’t like that?” TK asks quietly and Carlos can feel his blood freeze. It was naïve to hope that TK wouldn’t ever bring that up again.

He tries to play it off in vain, “hmm? What do you mean?” TK isn’t having any of it and he breaks their spooning position to look at him. Carlos bites down on his bottom lip briefly, releasing it and exhaling.

When I’m like this, you’re the one that I want

He swears under his breath when Carlos follows him outside. He’s been avoiding him nicely until now. He looks him up at him and with as much vitriol he can muster he asks. “How can I help you, officer?”

Carlos rolls his eyes, not taking the bait. “I want to see how you are. You haven’t been answering my calls.”

TK clenches his jaw. He didn’t block Carlos’ number but he thought about it. He didn’t because seeing his name flash up on the screen every time was a punishment, it gave him a painful jolt that was too addictive to give up.

“There was a reason for that, I didn’t want to talk to you.” TK says quietly. He knows Carlos hears him because he sees him flinch.

“I’m not trying to corner you, TK, but I’m so confused about everything.” It’s too vulnerable out of Carlos’ mouth and TK can’t take it right now. He has a right to be confused and upset because TK never explained himself when he cut off all contact.

“And yet, you’ve cornered me.” He can feel a complex bubble of emotions rising within him which he doesn’t want to deal with. He quells it by focussing on anger. “So are you happy now, you can see how I am? Fine and enjoying a fun night out.”

Fun might be pushing it. The itch inside of him growing stronger with each passing moment driving him to madness.

“Are you alone here?”

“Is that your business?”

“I don’t want you making a stupid decision because you’re acting out.” It’s incredibly patient sounding and TK wants to lash out. Why is he always the one that’s lashing out and angry over everything? “Or fuck up your sobriety because you’re hurting.”

“You think I’m going to run off and use, because what? I don’t have your dick to rely on?” It’s particularly nasty but TK doesn’t care.

For if I’m going down, I’m taking you with me - joint with @mooshkat

TK looks murderous that he missed it and it makes Carlos laugh. “Not one for puzzles, princess?”

TK makes a terrible impression of Carlos’ voice mocking him but it’s so bad it’s not even offensive. The corner of Carlos’ mouth quirks at his little tantrum. He hates to admit it but there is something so endearing about TK. If he had to spend more than twenty minutes with him, however, he would put a bullet in one of their heads. Which is unfortunate since they appear to be locked in a room together.

“So, Sherlock, how do we get out to here?” TK drawls, he’s putting in a lot of effort to look bored but Carlos can see past that from his body language. He’s on high alert and Carlos is too.

Someone got the drop on him, knocked him out and tied him up. They also got the drop on TK.

Carlos doesn’t like to think himself overly vain but that’s only something a serious player could do. Which spells trouble.

—

Y’know what? It’s been a hell of a year I’ve published 193,280 words on A03 (and written many more that were never published) and I’m pretty proud of myself for that!

But now I want to see you all be proud of yourselves, im sorry if you’ve done this and I’ve missed it, please tag me in it so i can celebrate you ♥️ sorry I’ve been gone so much ily

Tagging: @spikewritesstuff @mooshkat @cowlos-reyes @paperstorm @chaotictarlos @birdclowns @lightningboltreader @wandering-night19 @carlos-tk @heartstringsduet @jesuisici33 @lemonlyman-dotcom @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad

[folklorianhaze]

Baby, Just Say Yes

Pairing: Gwyn x Elain

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: One Shot, Fluff, Alternate Universe — Modern Setting, Taylor Swift’s “The Eras Tour”, Gwyn is a swiftie, Elain is a swiftie, Marriage Proposal, Gwyn is afraid of crowds

Word Count: 2702

Summary: A short one-shot inspired by @just-a-fangirlmore’s Tumblr post (thanks for letting me write this!): “Modern AU in which Elain and Gwyn are girlfriends and both are swifties and so Elain proposes to Gwyn during Love Story at the Eras Tour.”

Read it on AO3 here!

“You’re not nervous about tonight, are you?”

Elain Archeron poked her head through the doorway of their hotel room’s tiny bathroom, watching through the mirror as her girlfriend ran a curling iron through her coppery hair. The air between them was thick with the sweet-sharp scent of hairspray, the room still slightly misty from the shower they’d taken together earlier. 

Gwyn’s brow was furrowed in an expression of concentration so intense it nearly bordered on achieving serenity, like a monk meditating upon a rock at the edge of an ocean. This was the first time in a while that she’d done anything with her hair or makeup more elaborate than the basic cleanliness and professionalism required by her job at the library, and Elain could tell that Gwyn wanted to make sure it was exactly right. Much like everything else in the woman’s life, she always seemed to put such pressure on herself even over the simplest things. Though Elain had always found that passion and drive about her endearing, something about it twisted at her chest just a bit, too.

Gwyn’s bright, clear eyes twinkled as she met Elain’s gaze in the mirror. “A little,” she finally admitted, though her voice sounded freer from anxiety than Elain had heard it in days. “But if I don’t brave these crowds for Taylor, then I don’t think anything could get me out of my house again,” she added with a self-deprecating little grin.

Elain smiled in return. “You’re going to love it — don’t worry,” she encouraged. “And don’t talk about yourself like you’re some sort of hermit. It’s not nice to make fun of the woman I love.”

Gwyn released the clamp on the iron, letting a fresh curl bounce its way down her shoulders. “I guess you’re right.” But when Gwyn’s eyes found the mirror again, Elain could see the faintest traces of worry there. “You really think it’ll be okay? I won’t be overwhelmed by it all?”

Elain slid fully into the room, padding across the tiles to stand behind Gwyn and wrap her arms around her lithe waist. Reeling her in close, Elain nuzzled her chin against the curve of Gwyn’s neck, the smooth tickle of her still-warm curls brushing against Elain’s cheeks. She felt Gwyn laugh, felt her hands come to settle over where Elain’s encircled her waist.

“I think you’ll have an amazing time,” said Elain at last. “And I’ll be there with you every step of the way. I promise.”

And she truly meant it. She’d known for months now how much this night would mean to Gwyn; she’d been in disbelief that Elain had even managed to get tickets in the first place, and hadn't been able to wrap her head around the fact that they’d be attending until now. This was the music they’d bonded over in the earliest stages of their relationship, the lyrics that had slowly brought them together, and to be able to experience this show as a couple would be a night Elain would never trade away.

As ecstatic as Gwyn had been when she’d found out they were going, though, she’d been equal parts terrified by the notion of being around so many people, in such a bustling and busy atmosphere, all at once. She’d always been a bit of a homebody, and due to the sort of unbearable trauma that turned Elain’s stomach just to think about, Gwyn had always taken comfort in one of the few places she felt safe apart from her own home — the library at which she worked. Elain had asked her, over and over, just to make entirely sure — would she be okay at an event like this, would she truly feel comfortable?

And Gwyn had nodded her head resolutely, determined to allow herself one night of fun in spite of her anxieties.

It was that bravery — that display of courage and determination in the face of something as daunting as healing oneself from a pain so deep — that Elain loved and admired so much about her. That made her want to make this night as truly magical for Gwyneth Berdara as she deserved.

It was that bravery that had inspired Elain Archeron to take a bit of a leap of faith of her own tonight, she realized, as she reached into her pocket and pressed a reassuring hand against the tiny box sitting inside. She couldn’t let the nerves show, even as they tangled her stomach into a complicated knot within her. She could do this — in fact, the question practically burned where it sat on the tip of her tongue, practically begging to be asked. 

But she could only silently hope for the best, could only do her best to make sure she could convey all the love and affection that weighed on her heart.

She could only hope that when she asked, Gwyn would say yes.

***

Gwyneth Berdara was nothing short of overwhelmed.

And she would never in a million years have imagined that she might think to use such a word to describe an experience in a positive way, but here she was, and yes — she was beginning to think it was the good sort of overwhelmed she was feeling right now, as the music pounded straight through her. 

As she and Elain had approached the stadium earlier, Gwyn had watched the mighty structure loom in the distance like a slumbering dragon (only the dangers would be tightly-packed crowds and booming noises rather than fire and brimstone.) Adrenaline and perhaps a bit too much caffeine had whetted her anxiety into a sharp edge, and she’d clung tightly to Elain’s hand as they walked, hoping her palms weren’t too humiliatingly sweaty. Elain’s dark eyes — that lovely, rich brown, so easy to get lost in — had kept finding her, kept sending her assessing glances as they drew closer. Are you still alright? She’d seemed to say. You don’t have to do this.

And Gwyn had known that Elain’s silent offers were sincere. In spite of all the money they’d spent to get here, all the hassle it had been to even get tickets in the first place, all the months of anticipation leading up to this moment . . . if Gwyn had truly been too uncomfortable, too afraid to go forward with it, Elain would have understood and they would have been able to go right home. The thought of that was a safety net to Gwyn all day long, enough to keep her from spiraling entirely into a panic. But then again, that was what Elain had always been good at doing — making sure everyone around her, but especially those she loved, felt safe and at ease, at home with her.

Perhaps it was because of that security that Gwyn had been able to face today as strongly as she had. True, the process leading up to actually getting into the stadium had made her chest clench a bit — it had been years since she’d been in a crowd of this size, and all the different faces, the bits of conversation floating through the air, the humid heat of the summer day, had been a dizzying and disorienting experience. But when they’d gotten inside and gotten matching light-up bands secured around their wrists — Elain’s own arms jangling with the copious amounts of friendship bracelets she’d come intent on trading — the tight knot inside her had eased, pushed back even more when they’d at last made it to their seats.

She hadn’t realized they’d be quite so close to the stage, and had found herself scarcely able to take it all in.

Elain had given her hand a reassuring squeeze, grinned at her as the pre-show music blasted through the stadium. “I love you,” she’d murmured. “You ready?”

Gwyn had given a quick, shaky nod, not entirely sure if she could never be ready for a night of this magnitude. But it was hard to ignore the energy around her — indeed, it proved more and more difficult to be truly nervous at all as the excitement began to turn to something bubbly and light in the pit of her stomach. This was — fun. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she’d let herself go out and forget her troubles and just . . . have fun, with the woman she loved at her side.

And of all the people who could possibly have attended with her tonight, she found herself immensely grateful it was Elain. She looked nothing short of stunning in the rosy golden light of the steadily-approaching sunset, the little bits of gold in her light-brown hair gleaming where they caught the light. The two of them had both gone all-out and decided to dress up for the occasion, but Elain had truly pulled out all the stops. Having enlisted the help of both Nuala and Cerridwen, she’d replicated one of the dresses from the ME! music video with painstaking attention to detail — a black, sleeveless bodice that clung to her curves, falling into a skirt of fluffy white tulle bursting with flowers. Simple, but eye-catching. 

Gwyn’s costume leaned more toward comfort than elegance, but she’d chosen it herself and she loved it for its simplicity. She sported a long, drapey white tee shirt, with A LOT GOING ON AT THE MOMENT emblazoned across the front in bold, black lettering. And, of course, sparkly black shorts and a matching hat. 

A lot going on, indeed. She practically felt as if her heart might break free of her rib cage and burst its way out of her chest.

But once the anticipation had finally come to a head and the show, at last, began in full, Gwyn found it easier and easier to let go of the anxiety that had clung to her all afternoon. There was something about the teeming energy of the crowd, the way she could get utterly lost in it all, that helped her relax all the more. And this show, this music — these songs had meant so much to her for so long, healed her at a time when she’d felt her loneliest. It wasn’t long at all before Gwyn had shed her worries entirely, and she and Elain were arm-in-arm, dancing to the beat, singing along with their cheeks pressed together.

“This is everything — everything I thought it would be and more,” Gwyn stammered to Elain in between songs, her voice nearly drowned out by the music, the clamor of the crowd. “Thank you for being here with me,” she added anyway.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. And no one else I’d rather be with,” Elain answered, and Gwyn knew she meant it.

The evening descended into a blur of color and light and sound. The music thrummed into her, the bass tremoring right through to Gwyn’s very bones. She’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t film too much of it, that she’d try her best to be as in the moment as she possibly could, and she was glad of that decision as she danced and laughed and truly let her hair down for the night. She couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d allowed herself to feel . . . free like this. When for once, the weight that usually pressed down onto her shoulders didn’t feel quite so impossible to bear.

It’s fearless, Taylor sang, her voice reverberating throughout the stadium, and yes, Gwyn finally thought she understood what that meant.

She couldn’t help but notice a change in the atmosphere between herself and Elain, though, as the opening chords to Love Story echoed out. Not necessarily in a negative way, but . . . she’d noticed Elain becoming increasingly quieter. More subdued. Almost as if, strangely, she’d absorbed all the worry and anxiety Gwyn had been carrying around all day and had now taken it into her own body. She smiled when she caught Gwyn’s eye, but something in it was slightly strained. Almost . . . nervous. And now, even in the darkness, she could see the faintest blush staining Elain’s cheeks and the tip of her pert nose.

Perhaps she was simply overthinking things. After all, Elain hadn’t seemed so on edge before the concert. Had something happened to upset her at all?

It took no time at all for her to receive her answer.

As the song swelled to its climax, the music first pulling back for an instant as the narrator in the song pleaded for her Romeo to come save her, then building as the pleas grew more desperate, Gwyn felt the softest brush of a hand against her shoulder. Just as the music burst into the magical, celebratory final chorus, Gwyn turned in the direction she’d been tapped, eyebrows raised and curious . . . 

. . . and came to face Elain, slowly sinking down onto one knee in front of her.

A ring in her hand, extended towards Gwyn.

Marry me, Juliet, you’ll never have to be alone — the music, the whirl of color, Elain’s eyes staring directly into hers —

“Elain?” Gwyn breathed, unable to find the proper words for anything else, unable to stop the shaky smile making its way onto her face. 

There were excited murmurs in the crowd around them, people sitting close by who had seen and now gasped in barely-concealed excitement. But for the first time, Gwyn found herself not caring in the slightest about the crowd around her. No, at the moment, focusing entirely on Elain wasn’t difficult to do at all.

This — this was why Elain had been so beside herself, so increasingly nervous as the night went on. As if she’d somehow thought — as if, in any world, under any circumstance, Gwyn’s answer would be anything but a resounding yes.

“I love you so much, Gwyn,” Elain said to her, raising her voice over the music. “And I’m so proud of you for doing this today. Please — if you’d please marry me —”

“Oh, get up here and kiss me already,” Gwyn interrupted before Elain could say another word, her voice trembling with shocked laughter as she helped Elain to her feet. 

And with hands that shook just as hard as Gwyn’s, Elain slid the ring onto the redhead’s finger, the two of them gazing with unrestrained amazement into each other’s eyes. Just as Gwyn had requested, Elain wasted no time granting her that kiss; the two of them melted into each other, hardly remembering there was a world around them, hardly hearing the applause and congratulatory cheering, hardly even hearing the music play anymore. There was a roaring in her ears that Gwyn thought might be her heartbeat.

“Yes,” Gwyn whispered when they at last drew apart, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Elain’s ear. “Yes, Elain — of course.”

“You’re sure?”

“Easiest decision of my life, really.”

Elain seized her in a fierce embrace, as if she could barely believe it, laughing into Gwyn’s shoulder as a tiny smattering of people in their immediate area offered their polite congratulations.

“You know, I really should thank Nesta,” Elain confessed as the song came to an end, the performers onstage beginning the transition from one era to the next with practiced fluidity. With a conspiratorial grin, she added, “She’s the one who gave me the idea to propose like this in the first place.”

Gwyn chuckled, the sound breathless, as if she’d been swept up into the skies itself. Of course Nesta would. Something in her chest twisted at the thought — the realization that she finally had friends in her life who cared so much for her, who knew so well what would make her happy and wanted that for her so much. She’d never . . . Gwyn had never imagined she’d have a life like this. Any of it. Elain, or her friends, or even the ability to leave her house and intersperse with crowds on this level at all.

And now . . . now it was like she’d finally made it. Like that part of her she’d once felt was so dark, something to fear and shy away from . . . now, it was finally beginning to truly heal over.

“Don’t just thank Nesta,” Gwyn said, lifting Elain’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. And with an amused little smirk, she added, “Thank Taylor Swift.”

[myveryownfanfiction]

requested by @onedirectionlovers2014

request from @firstclassthot : Otp prompt #68

“You guys are so cute together!”

While the stranger meant no harm by the comment, they had completely misread the dynamic between A and B. They were friends, always had been and always will be.

But why can’t person A stop thinking about the comment? The longer they ponder, the more they seemingly agree. 

But does B share the same sentiment?

tags: @illiana-mystery, @eclecticwildflowers

warnings: swearing, spoilers for empire strikes back, overthinking, Dan is self deprecating and self conscious

AN: and here’s the flip side with Dan overthinking

I leaned against the wall next to Dan as we waited to get into the movie theater. The line stretched around the block but somehow we were able to get a spot a few stores down.

“Remind me again how you talked me into this.” Dan muttered as he wrapped an arm around me. I rolled my eyes at him.

“I didn’t talk you into anything. You agreed to come with if Harry and Christine did. They’re three spots ahead of us.” I reminded him.

“But this nerd…” he trailed off as he seemed to realize where we were. “Nevermind.” Dan leaned his head against mine as I sighed.

“it’s an action movie in space. Just think of it like that.” I patted his cheek. “Besides it’s Harrison ford.” I smiled at him. The line started to move and I forced dan off me. We got up to the ticket window and I smiled at the older lady sitting behind the desk. “Hiya Wendy. Two for empire please.”

“two for empire coming right up.” Wendy printed out our tickets. “You know, you two are awfully cute together.” I gave her a weak smile and ducked my head.

“we’re uh…we’re not together Wendy.” I told her. Her face fell.

“oh. I’m sorry.” She said. I waved my hand at her.

“it’s fine. We’re just really good friends.” I said, taking the tickets from her. “Thanks again.” Nodding at Dan, I led the way into the theater. Dan and I met up with Harry and Christine before heading into the theater. “Harry I’m sorry but no. Just no. Leia would not end up with Luke. It just…ew no.” I laughed as Christine and Dan trailed behind.

“but Han Solo? That wouldn’t happen either.” Harry complained.

“I’m sorry what? Of course she’d end up with Han! It’s Harrison Ford! Handsome, rugged, rebellious, scoundrel. What isn’t there to love?” I exclaimed. I looked over my shoulder and rolled my eyes at Dan. He smiled at me before Christine cut in.

“alright alright. Break it up. You’ll find out in the movie.” Christine patted Harry’s arm and Dan put his arm around me again. We settled into our seats and waited for the movie to start. I caught Dan looking at me every so often but I ignored it mostly. I was more focused on when Harrison Ford would appear onscreen. Christine and I would practically melt into our seats, sighing lovingly at the space pirate.

“Why, you stuck up…half-witted…scruffy-looking…nerf herder!” Leia yelled. Han turned around on the screen and Christine gripped my arm at the face he made.

“Who’s scruffy looking?” Christine and I sighed before giggling quietly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dan cross his arms and sink into the chair. As the movie progressed, I kept shooting glances at Dan. His pout grew as Christine and I kept fawning over Han Solo. I could practically hear his teeth gritting when the penultimate moment came up.

“Hey, your worship, I’m only trying to help.” I gripped Christine’s hand and leaned forward in my chair a bit.

“Would you please stop calling me that?” Leia asked. Harry shot me a look and I grinned at him.

“sure leia.”

“you make it so difficult sometimes.” Harry rolled his eyes and I turned back to the screen.

“I do, I really do. You could be a little nicer though. Come on, admit it. Sometimes you think I’m alright.” Christine squeezed my hand.

“occasionally, maybe…when you aren’t acting like a scoundrel.” Leia admitted. My grin grew.

“scoundrel?” Han asked. “Scoundrel…I like the sound of that.” Leia shocked herself and Han started to massage her hand.

“stop that.”

“stop what?” Dan perked up slightly when I gasped.

“stop that. My hands are dirty.” I let go of Christine’s hand and covered my mouth.

“my hands are dirty too. What are you afraid of?” Hans voice dropped slightly and I started to excitedly kick my feet.

“afraid?”

“You’re trembling.”

“I’m not trembling.” Han moved closer to leia and I bit my lip to stop from cheering.

“you like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.” Dan reached over and squeezed my leg. I turned towards him, taking in his face before turning back to the screen.

“I happen to like nice men.” Keeping one hand over my mouth, I reached down and squeezed dans hand.

“I’m a nice man.”

“no you’re not…” the entire theater erupted in cheers as Han finally kissed leia. Harry groaned and I excitedly shook dans hand. He gave me a weak smile before I turned back to the screen again. Dan squeezed my hand as I settled down and enjoyed the rest of the movie. When it ended, Harry handed me ten dollars and I smiled at him.

“thank you very much your honor.” I teased as I pocketed the money. “See you guys Monday!” I followed Dan to his car and got in.

“where to?” He asked. I shrugged.

“don’t care.” Dan gave me a look. “Alright. Wanna go to mine and order out?”

“sure.” Dan started driving towards my apartment building and followed me up. I called for a pizza and we sat on the couch while we waited. “Good movie huh?” I nodded.

“I got so excited when Han kissed leia. I just proved Harry wrong.” I laughed. “I hope they don’t screw that up in the next one.” I mused as Dan nodded stiffly.

“you really like Han Solo don’t you?” Dan asked. I nodded.

“he’s so attractive.” I sighed. “Harrison Ford is the perfect choice to play him.” Dan hummed and picked at a string on his shirt.

“you deserve someone like that.” I furrowed my eyebrows at him and cocked my head. “What that lady at the ticket window said. You deserve someone that looks like him. Ruggedly handsome and adventurous.” I got up and sat down next to Dan.

“What is this about Dan?” I asked, taking his hand in mine. “Just because Wendy said we looked cute together?” Dan nodded.

“you deserve someone you compliments you better.” Dan sighed. “Someone that…” I turned his head towards me.

“Dan, are you telling me you like me?” I asked. Dan paused before nodding.

“I do. But you wouldn’t want to me with someone like me. I’m not that attractive.” Dan gestures towards his face. “I’ve got that scar on my nose and I’m not built like those characters you like. My hairs going grey…” Dan sighed and slumped against the couch. “You wouldn’t want someone like me.”

“Dan?” I asked softly. He hummed in acknowledgment. Smiling to myself, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Can I decide that for myself?” I asked when I pulled away. Dan looked at me in surprise.

“you…but…” he stuttered as he tried to wrap his head around what just happened.

“You’re ruggedly handsome in your own way.” I said as I ran a finger over the scar on his nose. “So what you’ve got a scar. Harrison Ford does too. And I like yours better anyway. It’s hidden. So only those who pay attention can see it.” I smiled at him as he watched in awe. “I like your greying hair. It makes you look older. And I like the way you’re built.” I wrapped my arms around dans waist and laid my head on his chest. “You’re perfect for cuddling and hugging. Soft in all the right places. Those characters would be too uncomfortable, hard muscles and tense.” I made a face and Dan released a sigh.

“thank god.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to my hair. “So…can…want to go out with me?” He asked softly. I nodded eagerly.

“I’d love to.” I smiled up at him, not letting go of his waist. “But can we call this our first date?” Dan nodded before kissing my head again.

“I’d like that.” He whispered before getting up to answer the door and bring in the pizza.

[emustockings]

Last Line - Tag Game

I was tagged by @zestymimblo (thank you so much!) whose response is here

Rule: Post the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words.

“You’re delightful,” Elmer said flatly, but he meant it.

Wornhardt snorted.

“Don’t you snort at me.” It was always a balance with Worndhardt’s self-deprecation. Even in jest, there were times its barbs were too sharp for Elmer’s taste, and so he would push back, with as much firmness as felt necessary, like feeling out the tension of a crochet stitch with a practiced hand. But right now he could tell by the quiet little twinkle in Wornhardt’s eye that the good doctor wasn’t in one of his darker moods at all. In fact, the fondness made him look younger.

I'll give you the whole chunk of Sun Haven fanfiction I wrote in the middle of the night during the week LMAO Yes, this is the entirety of the document *salutes*

I don't have this many mutuals so I will just tag everybody LOL

Tagging: @thatwitchrevan @justsome-di @e-s-willswriting @redotter @charlesjosephwrites @kjscottwrites @winterandwords @spuddlespud @emberlyric @quaintmystery @cheywritesx @koiwrites @blorbo-yassifier @alwaysastrophel @verba-writing @pandawriterstuff @indecentpause

[vampyrsutton]

SSD Day 2~Angels

Summary:

Half Angel/Half Demon Dabi wakes up from a nightmare, but all newly discovered Nephilim!Hawks can focus on is an Angelic power he mentioned.

Ao3 Tags:

Nephilim, Nephilim!Dabi, Nephilim!Hawks, but in different ways, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Many eyes, Biblically Accurate Body Horror, Dominance, Consensual Mind Control, Missionary Position, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Dabi | Todoroki Touya Needs a Hug, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Dabi | Todoroki Touya Has Genital Piercings

"NO! No, Father! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll control it! I'll do better! Please don't leave me! I'm so-"  

"Wake up, dammit!" Hawks yells, stress gripping his demon companion in panic and doing his best to not collide when talons in scar tissue makes Dabi bolt upright and almost get the Nephilim with his hellfire.

"Don't." Dabi hisses out, red lining his now-slitted pupils as his turquoise eyes glow in the dark of their room. "Don't touch." 

Hawks makes a weird cooing noise that also sounds like bells in a hail storm thanks to his specific angelic descent before carefully holding up his other hand stress gripping a pillow. "Sorry." 

Dabi growls low in his throat for a second before trying to get his unnecessary breathing under control. "Can't let go?" 

Hawks nods, cooing apologetically. "Yeah. You were having another nightmare though." 

Dabi huffs but nods. "Just more bs from daddy dearest." 

"Will you please tell me which demon?" The Nephilim pouts now. 

"No. Not telling you the angel side either or you'll figure it out." A manic grin that does nothing to hide the still-present panic in his eyes. "Can't have you killing my prey." 

"I already said I'd let you kill mine." Hawks groans, muttering when Dabi just pulls him back down to stroke between his wings so he can let go. "Cheater." 

"Demon. And no, I just have a right to my secrets." Dabi huffs.

"Well do you wanna talk about it at all?" Hawks huffs right back. "You about set the bed on fire." 

Dabi winces now, looking away awkwardly. "...that's part of the issue yeah…yeah, fine I can reveal that much…" He decides despite continuing to hesitate.

"...Ah a very insightful silence. Eye-opening really." Hawks teases to lighten the mood, just shrugging at the scowl it gets him. 

"Fuck you, I'm not good at the sharing emotions shit." Dabi snaps as a hand reaches up to fidget with a horn before he grabs it in frustration. "Ugh! Fine, as you know, I'm technically a Nephilim too, but instead of half-human and half one or the other, I'm half-demon half-angel. Father wanted a perfect half-and-half though. A product with both his hellfire and demonic ability and also angelic bs in equal parts. Well, it seemed all I got was his hellfire, which he was fine with, I even burned hotter than him." Dabi says in a voice meant to sound smug but just sounds tired. "Until my mother's genes decided to overhaul my body and make it susceptible to hellfire without actually granting me any holy powers beyond immunity to holiness and domination which still shouldn't be an angel thing, but whatever. In the end, he deemed me worthless and cast me aside and forced my mother to have 2 more children after my sister, the fourth of which was his perfect creation." A self-deprecating laugh. "The rest of us could drop dead for all he cared after that, and as far as he knows, I did." 

Hawks blinks, once again tempted to try to sneak into heaven for angelic records but knows it would just get him burned. "That bitch." He lands on instead. "And I'm sorry, what is an angel power?!" He squawks when the rest finally catches up to him. 

Dabi raises an eyebrow before remembering the dork had just learned he was a Nephilim not too long ago and hadn't even figured out how to refold his wings to the other plain. "Right, newbie. Domination. We can force a sort of Divine Will onto any human and any willing Nephilim or angel." He sighs. "Humans will usually black out and be nothing more than a puppet, Nephilim will have a sort of brain fuzz but are otherwise coherent with no control of their body, and angels will retain full consciousness just with no control of their body." 

"What about demons?" Hawks asks curiously. 

"Pretty sure we would have been wiped out long ago if angels could just order us still and kill us." Dabi snorts with a roll of his eyes. 

"Fair point." Hawks hums, mind already somewhere else. 

Dabi must sense it because he soon raises an eyebrow. "What're you doing in that bird brain?" 

"So, hypothetically, if you were to use that on me in bed-" Hawks starts.

"Really? I told you part of my tragic backstory and you got horny over a power you also have albeit weaker?" Dabi scoffs, now moving to get out of bed. The nerve of this pigeon.

"Waiiit~" Hawks whines, wrapping around Dabi's middle. "I can't help it that you're hot!"

"Don't care. Get off of me." Dabi huffs, trying to peel him off. "I am genuinely trying to use the bathroom, let go!"

Hawks lets go immediately, hands raised in surrender. "Please?" 

Dabi glares at him but huffs. "Go make breakfast, and I'll let you know."

Hawks isn't sure he’s ever moved so fast in his life.

~~~

Dabi, of course, ends up agreeing to it. What can he say? He's weak to seeing his birdie on his knees. 

Just like he will be soon. 

"Sure about this, pretty bird?" Dabi double-checks, still slightly unsure despite how tight his pants have become in his expectation. 

"Extremely. Yes. 100%. If you are willing, I am down." Hawks assures, eagerly waiting to see how this goes. 

"Alright then." Dabi hums before his already bright eyes glow brighter and his voice drops and distorts as though being filtered through five different planes of existence to immediately cloud Hawks' mind. 

" On your knees, pretty bird . "

Hawks’ head immediately fills with static and all of his senses feel like they're submerged in jello as he drops to his knees with a second thought. Ah, that was why the pillows were moved to the floor.

Dabi smirks down at him, tilting his head up by his chin to make blurry eyes meet his own. "Good boy." He hums, delighting in the trill that unconsciously leaves the other’s mouth at the praise. 

" Open your mouth . I'm gonna make you choke on my cock." He damn near purrs, snickering when Hawks' mouth drops open without a second thought, or really any thought for that matter. 

"Fuck. Look at you. So sweet and compliant. I could do literally anything to you and you'd just take it, wouldn't you? Could fuck you raw or burn those pretty wings right off your back, and you'd probably thank me." Dabi hums cruelly, petting through blonde hair so feeling the barely noticeable shiver. "Ah, so you are still there. Good, this wouldn't be any fun otherwise, and as much as I would love for you to stop smacking me in the face with them, it'd be such a waste." He assures, watching the tension leave Hawks' body.

"Why so stressed, baby? Did it not occur to you that you were giving up control to a literal demon, half-angel or not? Don't worry, pretty bird." He grabs a fistful of blonde hair to make that still-waiting throat choke on his cock and groans at how it spasms around him. "Fuck. Don't worry. I only plan to break you in the best ways. Shit, you like that idea?" He hisses when Hawks involuntarily swallows around him. "Ruin you so good, you never wanna leave? Just stay here as my perfect little cock slut, stuffed full of cum and ready for the taki-Fuck!" 

Hawks, still having at least vague awareness, moans at the thought, sending vibrations shooting up Dabi's cock who about doubles over at the feeling. 

"Fuck, pretty bird. We're both about to be real grateful for this. Turn off your breathing . Good bo-shit!" Another curse when Hawks moans at the praise. "Yeah, I'm gonna have fun fucking your slutty little throat like the fleshlight it was meant to be." He promises, pulling out slowly only to snap his hips harshly and groan at the wet heat. "Then I'm gonna fuck your tight little hole until you're dripping cum. How does that sound, huh, pretty bird?"

Hawks can do no more than let out a desperate sounding…moan? It was some sort of angel noise that usually meant good things and was probably the result of not being able to use air for non-mildly terrifying noises, but it still made Dabi's cock jump all the same as he groans in response. 

"Fuck, Hawks. Use safe actions if you need them , otherwise, I'm not stopping." Dabi orders, pulling his cock away from the wet suction of Hawks’ mouth to fuck himself back down his throat in the next instant. "Gonna fucking ruin you." 

All he gets in response is some garbled, chirping sound as he fucks the Nephilim's pretty little throat in a way sure to rob him of his voice by the time they're done, only to pull out before he can actually cum. "Your throat feels way too good. On the bed . You better have opened yourself up like you were supposed to." 

Hawks just mindlessly drags himself onto the bed, standing there like an NPC waiting for further instruction until Dabi snorts at the ridiculous sight. 

" Chest down. Ass up. Not even going to try wrecking you standing on a bed." Dabi chuckles, watching Hawks scramble to comply and smirking at the pretty turquoise plug that comes into view. "The big one, too, huh?" Dabi hums, taking hold of the plug to pull it lightly and marveling at how Hawks rim stretches around it. Letting go gets it greedily sucked back in with a squelch. "My dick's gonna be drowning in lube, isn't it?" 

Normally, Hawks would have some sort of sassy response to that, but all he can currently do is stare dumbly into space while making sounds from another plane of existence. The part of him that's still distantly there wants to do something to entice the other Nephilim to get on with it, but he can’t and he feels his cock throb qt the reminder that he's put himself completely at Dabi's mercy. 

 "Hmm. Something's not right…" Dabi hums in thought before snapping his fingers. "I changed my mind. On your back . Since this is an angel power, we'll do missionary so I can watch your face in real-time as I drag you down to hell with me." 

Hawks wastes no time rolling onto his back, whining when the motion jostles the plug inside against his prostate, but otherwise awaiting further instruction. 

Dabi makes a deep rumbling sound that he's not sure which side it's from, but it doesn't matter when Hawks unconsciously bares his throat in further submission. An answering chitter sends what was left of Dabi's self-control careening off the edge as he's suddenly on top of the already lost-looking Nephilim while a clawed hand works the plug from his desperate little hole. 

"Fuck, Hawks. You gotta let go of the plug if you want me to be able to fuck you. I know you want nothing more than to just sit here, stuffed, but don't you want something that can properly fuck you?" Dabi purrs into a flushed ear before chuckling lowly when Hawks coos and falls pliant, the plug slipping out with a lewd, wet noise. The sight of Hawks' hole desperately trying to clench around nothing is enough to drive Dabi near mad, and he's lining up before he even processes it. 

He at least has enough wits to spit on his cock before trying to just fuck it into the Nephilim, but that's about as far as his self-control expands when his Prince Albert bumps Hawks' rim, and the half-angel keens. 

"Fuck, you're really desperate for it, huh?" Dabi growls as he starts working the head inside. "Just a bit of Angelic Domination and some dirty words is all it takes to make a proper whore out of you, hm?" Another small thrust works him further inside and he curses at how Hawks moans at the piercings helping stretch him open. "Well, who am I to deny you when you're finally being so honest. You know I never actually told you to put your legs up, right? You presented this slutty little hole for me all on your own, and who am I to let such a perfect little offering go to waste, hmm? Angelic healing be damned, you're gonna feel me for days ." 

The moan Hawks lets out is far from human, and Dabi delights in being the one to start stripping him of that. "Come on, birdie. I've barely even touched you, and you already sound like that." He chuckles, finally seating himself fully inside and hissing at the way Hawks clamps around him. "Can't wait to hear how I ruin you when we actually get going." 

The symphony of moans that leaves Hawks when Dabi starts up a rough pace probably comes from his other mouths that he's yet to learn to materialize -and oh won't that be fun- and they only succeed in spurring Dabi on more as he hooks toned calves over his shoulder and folds the little half-angel in half to hear him sing. He doesn’t know if this counts as missionary anymore so much as a mating press, but he can still see Hawks' face as he loses himself to pleasure and clamps down on his dick like he plans to never let go only to moan like a whore when piercings drag across his prostate. He's pretty sure he can feel Hawks' feet losing their human shape behind his back and he rumbles proudly at the thought. 

"Look at you. Just a little bit of dick, and you're ready to fall from grace." Dabi chuckles, abnormally long tongue dominating Hawks' mouth when he opens it to moan before coming up to growl more filth. "Lucky for you, I'm more than willing to thoroughly break you in. How does that sound, pretty bird?"

Hawks shudders in his haze, mumbling incoherent nonsense not made for the mortal tongue as he holds onto Dabi's horns like a lifeline. Like he might actually leave this plane if he lets go and whines pleadingly as though begging for more of anything. 

"God, you're fucking ruined aren't you, baby?" Dabi chuckles darkly before kissing him again when he whines brokenly, not stopping his almost punishing pace all the while. "My favorite little toy. What do you say, baby? Want me to break you apart and put you back together?" 

Hawks is beyond caring knowing what he's agreeing to, he just wants to cum…No, that's not right. Dabi had promised he'd be dripping his cum and Hawks really doesn't think he'll be satisfied without it with how desperately his hole is trying to hold Dabi's cock captive. 

Cum. Cum. He wants cum. 

He wants Dabi to feel good. He wants Dabi to ruin him. He wants to be nothing more than Dabi's little fuck toy and for it to be obvious to anyone who looks at him.

Fuck this Domination thing is dangerous. 

"I can't hear you, baby~" Dabi growls in Hawks’ ear, drawing out another inhuman sound before he's nodding desperately, not trusting himself with human language. 

Dabi is about to tease further, but suddenly there are more than two sharp gold eyes trained on him, and Dabi realizes he might actually be fucking the human out of him as he groans and curses. "Fuck. Yeah, okay, birdie. Don't worry. I've got you." He promises, figuring bringing the eye-to-person ratio back down is now part of the 'putting him back together' part. "Fuck, that is way hotter than it should be." 

Multiple eyes blink at him hazily before rolling back when Dabi starts focusing on his prostate to make him see stars. 

Dabi groans lowly, abusing that spot inside the Nephilim until he's sure the noises filling the room will drive his neighbors to madness, but he's not really in the position to be giving a fuck about anything other than the one he's giving Hawks. He really hopes he worded the commands right this time, too, because he's pretty sure Hawks' ass is trying to suck the sou-...the life-...the sin right out of him. Sin is probably most accurate with what he's been doing to the birdie. 

"Fuck, Hawks. Close. Fuck, I'm close. Gonna fill you up so well, you won't even care about figuring out your angel half. Gonna be perfectly content just sitting here being my dumb little cock sleeve won't you?" Dabi growls, reaching a clawed hand down to start jerking Hawks off in time with his stuttering thrusts.

Hawks keens, powerful wings accidentally pushing him up until Dabi has to scramble to keep fucking him sitting now, and fuck if that angle isn't ruining him more. 

"Watch it, birdie. You're gonna knock me out of you." Dabi scoffs, his tail being the only reason they weren't launched from the bed. "But fuck, do you feel amazing. Fine, I can fuck you like this. Just let me…" He lets his white feathered, bat-like wings emerge from his back for extra leverage and rumbles at the way Hawks almost screams with the new rhythm. "Good boy. Almost there, baby bird." 

Even supernaturally tranced, it's too much and Hawks can vaguely feel Dabi licking tears from his cheeks as his back tries to arch with the force of his impending orgasm. He wants to scream, wants to call out for Dabi, beg for something he's not sure what, but all he can do is cry and take it, shuddering at the way Dabi's pace begins to stutter once more.

"Fuck, birdie. That's it. Almost there. So close." Dabi groans, fucking up hard and fast into the half-angel on his lap. "You can cum when I do , pretty bird. Fuck, you've been so good. Shit- close- cu-" 

Hawks is pretty sure he whines at the praise, but that's quickly whited out by a seemingly Earth-shattering orgasm that wrecks his body at the first spurt of cum against his insides and the fangs so close to something on his neck are not helping. He feels like he's going insane and every spurt of what has to be an inhuman amount of cum just makes it worse. 

He feels like he could drown in it. 

Fuck, he kind of wants to. 

" Come back, birdie. " He vaguely hears, Dabi whisper, giving him back control of his limbs but doing nothing to clear the fog in his mind as he coos softly. 

"Shit. I actually fucked you stupid, huh?" Dabi chuckles, combing his claws through unnaturally soft blonde hair. "Come on, baby. Let's get you cleaned up, hmm? Hopefully, a bath will bring you back to this plane." 

Hawks just croons, letting himself be carried, but unable to make any attempt at actually helping. He flutters a wing in a token attempt. 

Dabi just laughs. "Calm down, birdie, I've got you. I'll take care of everything." 

Another coo tells him that some part of Hawks must understand and he hopes that same part will be forgiving of whatever soap he accidentally gets in his new eyes. 

He can at least be gentle for this. 

A look at Hawks' blissed-out face tells him he'll always be gentle for this.

[pufflix]

love die young

wc: 0,5k

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader

summary: after months of young love, you decide it's best to part ways

genres: angst, breakup!au

tw: mention of death (just a thought) and anxiety

notes: this drabble is inspired by love die young by eric nam as requested by my friend. i hope i did it justice and it's angsty enough djdjdj @badwithten 🙏🏼 also the lyrics are in italic and 2/3 chris' thoughts

networks: @kflixnet @k-radio @k-labels

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @badwithten send an ask/dm/comment to be added!

Chris fell in love with you rather quickly. He was attracted to you the second he laid his eyes on you, your beautiful hair complimenting your face nicely.

He got the courage to speak with you after class one day, and your personalities matched perfectly.

It was young love at its finest.

You’d do everything together, without forgetting your respective family and friends.

This amazing relationship was around nine months old. Then, one afternoon at his house, you said something that shook his very core.

“Chris, I have to tell you something.”

“What’s wrong, angel?” he asked, worry in his voice. You rarely called him by his name.

“I— OK, this is gonna be difficult.”

You breathed, throat tight.

You were seated on each side of the couch. At the sight of your dejected state, he moved closer to you, a reassuring hand pressed against your knee.

In his head, he imagined one of your family members passed away. Honestly, he couldn't think of anything else that could put you in such a distressed state.

“I want to break up.”

He thought wrong.

You words felt like a bomb exploded in his chest. You weren't one to make jokes this hurtful, and he always knew when you lied.

The fact you were being real filled him with confusion and anxiety.

“I don’t understand,” was all he could reply.

Weren't you happy together during the many months you spent together? Was every single moment all a lie? Did he even know you like he thought he did?

“You don't love me anymore?” he resumed, “Did I do something? Is there someone else? Someone better?”

Self deprecating questions spiraling in his head, he felt like suffocating. He moved back, away from you.

“No, it's none of that, Chris. I promise. I just feel like I don’t know myself, and I need to. In order to know who I am… This journey I have to take alone.”

Tears were staining your shirt, but you didn't care one bit. Seeing him like this hurt more than words could describe.

“Please, don’t let this love —our love— die young.”

“I love you,” you said softly, “I just need to put myself first this time.”

“Y/N,” he whined, your words feeling like a white-hot knife cutting right through him. “I need you to stay.”

You sniffed, caressing his elbow with your thumb. The movement calmed his nerves, if only a little.

“And I need to go.”

Chris’ heart was hammering in his chest.

Tell me it was just a wrong feeling.

“I’m sorry,” you resumed, “I really am. I never meant to hurt you. I’m leaving the day after summer break officially starts. We may never see each other again.” Your voice broke a little.

It was painful— no, crushing the both of you. However, you had to do it. For your own sake.

“I love you,” he whispered, barely seeing you through his tears.

He got closer to you, pressed his forehead against yours.

The goodbye kiss was passionate, teeth crashing and full of love and pain.

“Thank you,” you murmured, out of breath, when you let go of his face, “for everything.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I have to.”

These were the last words spoken to each other.

You left, heart heavy but determined to find yourself and be able to love yourself like you loved him.

Chris stayed for hours, crying on his couch.

Maybe I should blame myself for never thinking we’d end up this way.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, here's the masterlist<3

[valkyrie-night-103]

The one and only anon fan coming at you to ask about terms of surrender

Hello, wonderful anon!! Thank you so so much for your continued support! Like I said before, I am available on tumblr and discord, feel free to DM me or friend me on discord (I’ll put my tag in my bio) if you would like to talk more about fic!

I have been DYING to talk about this one, it’s my main project right now. It went from a concept that I was going to write a little one shot about to a multi-chapter fic that currently consists of 7 chapters of varying lengths, totalling 20,000 words, and is about half done!

It’s got a lot of twists and turns and I really don’t want to completely spoil it for anyone, but if you like the golden lovers, getting-back-together fics filled with domestic fluff, emotional conflict and betrayal that isn’t between the main couple, with a dose of murder, revenge and most importantly, wrestling— this is the fic for you!!

Content warning for self deprecating thoughts, depression, just general emotional burnout.

Disclaimer, mobile formatting is awful.

Below the cut is a sneak peek of the first chapter! There is a prologue but I think the first chapter gives you a better assessment of the story direction, whereas the prologue kind of lays the groundwork and gives context for chapter one, but is not strictly necessary. This way is more exciting!

Chapter One : the road to ruin (and we’re starting at the end)

The segment goes as planned, for the most part. He tells the fans he’s going away for a while. That he needs time to recover, to recuperate, to finally rest. When they’re off the air, he embraces both Matt and Nick, an arm around each of them. He holds them at arms length, and smiles at them warmly. He hopes it reaches his eyes.

Naturally, Cole encroaches on their little moment. He opens his arms for a hug, but Kenny has already stuck his hand out for a stiff and awkward handshake before he can step closer. Cole’s barely concealed annoyance at the blatant snub makes him feel a little bit victorious, and he’s kind of in need of that right now.

Cole’s grip is tight as they shake, other hand also clasped around Kenny’s. He makes direct and prolonged eye contact, and though he’s probably not aware that Kenny finds eye contact awkward at the best of times, it still really annoys him.

Although, there’s something not quite right about those eyes. Adam Cole has always had bright blue eyes, but in this light they’re almost glazed silver. They’ve looked different since they brought him back, he’s noticed. Even when he laughs, there’s something menacing there.

Kenny had known even at the time that he was an amateur at anything spiritual, Cole was bound to come back a little bit wrong, but right now it’s so stark and obvious, staring him in the face in the most literal sense. It just gives him the creeps, and some part of him feels like he should have listened when Malakai said every ritual has a consequence somewhere down the line. That he shouldn’t have put the warning in his face down to his generally menacing presence.

“I’ll see you guys around.” He says, a lie that he knows will come back to bite him. It just feels right, like he’s meant to say it.

He takes a few steps back, not wanting to look away, before finally finding the courage to turn and go. Once he starts, he can’t stop, and though his dodgy knees protest with every step he walks faster and faster until he’s running, and then he runs, far enough away to breathe again.

He pulls out his phone and books the flight on his way out of the hotel. He waits to board, and he looks through his chat history, scrolling through old conversations. It’s nostalgic in a melancholy way. Time moves so strangely, he feels like he’s lived a lifetime since leaving to start AEW.

On the journey, he tilts his head back and tries to relax. Sleep is off the table, but maybe relaxing is a more attainable goal. His mind wanders and meanders, he feels like he’s chasing nothing, searching for something he’ll never find.

He goes through the motions after touching down, and he already feels like he’s come home. Japan has been his home since he first flew out there to wrestle for DDT, some 15 years ago. He remembers it so clearly, and sometimes he wishes he didn’t, because it hurts to recall a time where he believed in himself, owned who he was and would never trade it for anything.

He’s not really thinking about where his feet are taking him, but he doesn’t need to. He knows where he’s going.

As his mind often does when unoccupied for any period of time, he wonders what Kota thinks of him now, just as that sign had asked.

When Kota is alone, looking out at the skyline of his hometown, does he think of him fondly? When his name is mentioned, does his face twist in irritation or soften with fond familiarity?

Either way, it’s a little late to be having these doubts on the man’s doorstep.