#THE PART WITH KNIVES AND THE TREE LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE AFTER THAT SCENE

[gojo]

i just finished trimax and oh my god how am i going to function now

[chaotic-mystery]

Not A Survivalist Girl: Part 3

“Mr. Fucking Piece of Work Miller”

Written by @chaotic-mystery & @tightjeansjavi

(Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: Joel Miller lives a life alone. It's the way he likes it. After losing his daughter 13 years ago, and his brother Tommy ditching him for the fireflies out west, he doesn't have much sympathy, nor care for what remains of civilization. That is..until he meets you in the woods one cold night. How stupid could you really be to light a fire, and put yourself in imminent danger.

Warnings: implied age gap, canon typical violence (eventually) slow burn, mean! Joel, dark! Joel, is literally just a grumpy old asshole!Joel, sunshine reader, no survival skills but she's doing her best, Joel is a loner, mentions of depression, PTSD, trauma, childloss, angst, grumpy vibes, some degradation, nicknames, teasing, eventual smut, (+18) minors dni!

WC: 3.1k

At dawn's impending approach, Joel was still wide awake. He didn’t sleep much these days anyway. His eyes were dry, and crusty and his back ached from sitting on a log all fucking night. The pain reminded him that he was still alive, that he was still breathing. There was frost coating the dry grass in little ice crystals and the fire from the night before had completely died out. Not even the morsels of hot embers remained. Joel was freezing but he would be damned if he’d wrap himself up in your stupid fluffy pink blanket. That was until his teeth started to chatter, and he could see his cold puffs of air. With a grumble of pure annoyance, he wrapped his broad frame in the fluffy blanket. He wasn’t happy about it but what choice did he really have?

As you climbed out of your tent and slowly made your way to Joel, your eyes fell on your pink blanket that was draped around his broad shoulders. “Good morning, I uh- I see you found my blanket.” You cleared your throat and crossed your arms over your chest for warmth. The morning sun was barely peeking over the horizon, the air nipping at your cheeks. Joel immediately took the blanket off of him like it had something wrong with it and practically shoved it in your arms as he stood up in front of you.

Joel responded with a grunt as he slowly stood up from the log, bringing his hand to his lower back as he tried to stretch it out. Goddamn log. Goddamn stupid fucking fluffy pink blanket. Goddamn stupid cans hanging from a fucking tree. Goddamn birds chirping. Goddamn. Goddamn. Goddamn. You looked cute in the morning. That was for goddamn sure.

“So are you really not going to let me come with you? I can be so helpful to you and you don’t even want to consider that?” You were trying to make him a great offer, but he instantly called your bluff.

Joel scoffed under his breath as he straightened out his back before reaching down and grabbing ahold of his rifle that was resting along the log. “Now why the hell would I let you come with me, girlie? You don’t got shit to fuckin’ offer me. Except for another body to look out for and a mouth to feed. Do I really come across as the charitable type? Cause I sure as hell ain’t.”

Your eyes looked up as you were taking in his answer like you could see it working through your brain. “That's…very true, but think of it this way: you can show me how to shoot guns, use knives better, I can look out when we go hunting so you can actually get some sleep and not be a grouchy ass man! It’s perfect and we both win!” The singsong tone you had going on was getting on his last nerve and you loved it.

Joel chucked under his breath as he cocked his rifle, slinging it over his shoulder. “You? Look out for me? That’s cute darlin’. Absolutely fuckin’ adorable actually that you think I have any use for you. The hell am I supposed to do with your ditzy self and that fuckin’ pink blanket, Hm? Enlighten me girlie.”

As your mind raced for a useful response, you started to panic as he was losing patience quickly. “I just don’t want to be left by myself anymore and I know for a fact I can be helpful to you if you teach me, please..I don’t know where to go from here. It’s a miracle I’ve lasted this long but I’ll do anything, I’ll listen to everything you say.” Your twiddling thumbs came to a stop with your sentence as you met his eyes, showing him how serious you were being.

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath as he squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and muttered something unintelligible through gritted teeth. The truth was, Joel had spent all fucking night going over the pros and the cons of taking you with him. Unbeknownst to you, he just wanted to see how far you would go to insure your own safety. Leaving you out here to fend for yourself was certainly a death warrant. You were the first living person he had come across in months and perhaps the company wouldn’t be entirely awful. He also just couldn’t stand to face the flashing images in his head of you being torn apart by clickers, or worse.

The silence started to put fear in your heart, not really sure if he’d change his mind and let you tag along with him to wherever the hell he was going. The truth was just that: you needed him. Somehow his scary presence he tried so hard to put forward wasn’t scary to you, it actually made you want to know more about him. You tucked some of your hair behind your ear and crossed your arms slowly as you waited for his response, preparing yourself to hear him tell you no.

“You’ll listen to everything I say? No questions asked? You’re damn right it’s a miracle that you have lasted this fuckin’ long out here girlie. You clearly got some fight left in ya.” I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Joel internally said to himself. Allowing you to travel with him was going to take some time getting used to. An adjustment that would come with all the bumps, and nitty gritty shit along the way.

“You can come with me girlie. I’ll keep you safe, and I’ll teach you everything you need to survive. Don’t go and get all excited just yet cause I got some fuckin’ ground rules. First, you listen to everythin’ I tell ya to do, got it? Whatever I say goes and trust me, you ain’t gonna want to start arguin’ with me. If I tell you to run? You fuckin’ run. If I tell you to shoot? You fuckin’ shoot. Finally, if you get bit, just realize right now that I’m gonna have to kill ya. I’d make it quick, painless before the cordyceps spread. Do yourself a favor and do not get bit. Alright?” Joel spoked sternly, he wanted to instill a bit of fear into you. Some tough love if you will. He hoped to god that he’d never have to kill you under any circumstances.

“Thank fucking god, you didn’t have to wait so long to say that, this isn’t some movie where we need dramatic effects!” You let out a huge fake sigh and sarcastically wiped your forehead, trying to play it off that you weren’t actually scared.

“How about you just say fuckin’ thank you for me saving your goddamn life? Don’t make me change my mind, girlie. Those clickers are still gonna be lookin’ for a snack.” Joel grumbled before he reached into his bag and pulled out a small pistol. “You know how to use one of these things girlie? Or would you prefer a knife? Pick your poison cus’ I got lots of it.”

“Thank you oh so very much kind sir, how ever will I repay you?” You mocked in a terrible southern accent. You thought about all the options he listed and decided on the knife, holding out your hand for him. There was no turning back now, you were in it. You were here and you had to listen to everything he says, but where's the fun in that?

Joel let out a grumbled sigh as he stuffed the pistol back into his backpack before retrieving a decent sized combat knife and handed it over with the blade pointing towards the ground. “Try to not hurt yourself with this, alright sweetheart? She’s pretty sharp.”

“Well if I do hurt myself I have plenty of bandages to use, I’ll just need a hand with it probably” you teased and observed the knife, your thumb brushing over the sharp blade gently. “So where are we going now? Don’t really think you want to stay here after killing all those clickers last night.” Even when he grumbled and talked to you as if you didn’t know a fucking knife was sharp, he was still growing on you. Sure you only met him last night, but you weren’t afraid to admit he was easy on the eyes.

Joel let out a deep sigh as he zipped up his bag. It had only just dawned upon him that he was going to have to share a space with a whole other human being now. His cabin was his safe space. His solace. His home. The fact of reality was he didn’t really want to have to share his space, but what choice did he really have? He promised to protect you and stubborn as he may be, he was a man of his word. “Well, I’ve uh—got a cabin 10 miles west of here. It’s a bit of a hike so I hope you ain’t gonna complain too much about bein’ on your feet.”

“You have a cabin? Why didn’t we go back to it last night instead of sleeping out in the fucking cold?” You start to take the supplies from inside your tent out as you wait for his response. After the third item you put outside the tent, you felt like he was judging so you wrapped everything else in your sleeping bag and rolled it shut, setting it outside in a ball. “Regardless why we didn’t go back, I can’t go to someone’s cabin who won’t even tell me their name, ya know?” The desperation was apparent, you just wanted to know his name.

“Use your head, girlie. Why the hell would I take a total stranger back with me in the middle of the night? Like I said earlier, I ain’t a charitable person. Plus if you knew any better, traveling at night, is by far one of the dumbest things to fuckin’ do out here.” He stated as a matter of factly. Course she wants to know my name. “It’s Joel. My name is Joel. Don’t go and wear it out, cus’ I jus’ have a feelin’ that you will girlie.”

The sound of his name just sparks something inside you, you feel your heart racing a little more now that you finally have a name with a face. “Joel..I like that. It suits you.” I definitely will be wearing it out though, in more ways than one, you thought quietly to yourself. Maybe it was your daddy issues or maybe because you haven’t been around humans in forever, but he set your body on fire, regardless of how much older he was than you.

“You’re a weird one, you know that girlie? It’s just an average Joe’s name. Ain’t nothin’ special about it.” He grumbled under his breath as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. “C’mon, we gotta get movin’ and I don’t plan on takin’ any rest breaks.” He strode past you, giving you a light shoulder check.

As you walk for what feels like forever, you finally make it to his cabin. It’s quaint but still beautiful and bigger than you thought it would be. “Holy shit, Joel! Did you build this yourself? This is amazing.” You compliment as your hand runs over the smooth wooden beam of the porch.

By the time you and Joel arrived at the cabin, Joel’s back was aching, and his boots felt way too tight but he did a good job of hiding it, especially when he was so close to having a stiff glass of whiskey. “Yeah I uh..built it. Took a bitch in a half, but it’s pretty sturdy. Hold your horses though, alright? I need to check to make sure the area is safe. Almost had a nasty run in with some raiders last month so I’ve taken some extra precautions.” He was already cocking his rifle, using his freehand to grasp your arm and yank you behind him protectively.

You’d be lying if you said him putting you behind his back while he looks for anything out of the ordinary didn't scare you. No one had ever been that protective over you though, the way his hands cocked his gun so fast, he didn’t hesitate to take the right measures to ensure your safety. It was hard not to admire him for his bravery. “Yeah I think I’ll just stay riiight back here, behind you.” You whispered and crouched behind him so all you could see was his back. You grabbed the bottom of his shirt to keep you following the right direction as you were close to him at all times.

Joel lightly smacked your hand away, turning his head slightly to look down at you with a narrowed glare. “Cut that shit out. How the hell am I gonna protect us if you’re grippin’ on me like that? Jus’ stay right here, and do not move till I say you can. You got that girlie?” He harshly whispered.

“What? No! You can’t leave me here by myself!” You half-whispered back at him as you dropped your hands to your side. There was a small chance someone could come out right now and stab you to death, leaving you to die in your own pool of blood and he wouldn’t even know it because he thought leaving you alone was a good idea.

“Shuddup. You’re gonna be fine! Just lay low and don’t make a fuckin’ sound.” He whispered as he glanced over his shoulder once more, giving you a reassuring small nod that everything was gonna be just fine. It was always just better to be safe, than sorry. He quietly climbed up the wooden steps, taking a small breath as he slowly pushed open the door handle to the cabin, aiming his gun around the expanse of the entryway. He meticulously checked every room in the small cabin before he made his way back to the front door, pushing it open as he peeked his head out. “Alright, girlie. Coast is clear. We’re safe.”

“Don’t do that shit again, not until you’ve taught me how to defend myself, buddy.” You said annoyed at your own fear making your skin crawl as you put your hand on his chest and pushed past him into his cabin.

“What the fuck did ya just say to me girlie?” Joel grasped your upper arm firmly around his calloused palm, stopping you in your tracks. “Keep that fuckin’ attitude up with me and you’ll be sleepin’ outside like a goddamn dog sweetheart.” His words were harsh, bitter down to the very bone.

“Let go of me, just show me where I’m sleeping, please I’m tired.” You knew you should apologize for your fear making you be so mean but fuck he didn’t need to be so harsh. You looked him in the eye as you tried to tug your arm away, not succeeding in the slightest.

Joel inhaled deeply, exhaling as his nostrils flared out. His grip loosened along your upper arm till it was gone completely. “Fine. Would a thank you fuckin’ hurt? I’m gonna have to teach you some fuckin’ manners.” He gritted through his teeth, striding past you. His boots were heavy along the wooden floor as he walked further into his home.

You rolled your eyes out of his sight and sighed, following him loosely. He could make you sleep on the floor if he really wanted you to, to which you’d lock him out of his bedroom and sleep in his bed. Then who’d be the one sleeping on the floor, Mr.Asshole? “Oh I have manners and I use them with people who deserve them. You, however, do not. Feel free to teach me anything else though, I’m a quick learner.”

“Oh my god, my poor poor heart. That really hurts me, girlie. Go on and twist the knife deeper, why don’t ya?” He scoffed under his breath as he walked down the hall before making an abrupt stop at the first room on the right. He shoved the door open with a small grunt. “This is where you’ll be sleepin.’ It ain’t much, but the bed is decent. Bathroom is down the hall. Don’t expect 5 star service either. Still workin’ on getting proper plumbing.”

“Well thank you, I will be sure to leave a review tomorrow morning, depending how the night goes. Thank you, and I’m sorry.” You hated saying sorry, but it was in your best interest to at this moment. You reached out to touch his arm, just to show him you meant no harm.

“Uh huh. You’re so very welcome.” His tone was laced with sarcasm and as soon as you reached out to touch his arm, he instinctively moved back. Joel was not an intimate person. Well, not on the surface at least. Even so, that part of him had died a long time ago. He wasn’t about to welcome it back in with open arms. “Get some sleep.” Was the last thing he said before he retreated from the open doorway. He grabbed his bottle of whiskey from the makeshift kitchen area, not even bothering to grab a glass before he took a large swig, muttering under his breath. The front door could be heard slamming shut shortly after as he went to stack wood on the log rack. His muscles ached, and his back was sore but these were things that Joel Miller had grown accustomed to. He’d rather suffer through physical pain than deal with his emotions.

As you made your way to the guest room, you noticed his room was right next to yours. Looking around for Joel in sight when you finally saw him outside carrying firewood to fill the log rack on the side of the cabin, you slipped in his room just for a moment. There was a framed photo of a younger version of Joel and a young girl was sitting on his nightstand, he was covering her eyes as the photo was being taken. She had a beautiful smile and this was a whole different version of Joel you didn’t even think existed. Context clues were telling you something bad had happened, but now was not the time to pry. Setting the pink duffle bag on the ground, you quickly grabbed your blanket from inside, fluffed it out and folded it so it was just the right size to lay at the end of the bed for him to use tonight. Regardless of what he said, he liked your blanket and he’d never admit it, and this was your peace offering for not having manners.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 17 - Bad Habit [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Everyone needs help sometimes.

Series Masterlist

It wasn’t that there weren’t any spies who didn’t lie to their superiors.

There just weren’t any spies who lied to their superiors and lived to tell the tale, especially on high stakes missions like these.

You tried to convince yourself that the General would never find out, but that wasn’t the only reason why you were freaking out. Putting false information on your report was bad, yes, but the worst part was that you were beginning to find it harder and harder to report whatever information you found out about your fake boyfriend.

For some reason, you had a feeling it wouldn’t just stop at one lie.

Your eyes opened as you snapped out of your sleep all of a sudden and you took a look at the window, but it was still dark outside. That wasn’t the problem, the problem was that you had gone to sleep with Bucky by your side but now you were in an empty bed.

“Bucky?” you whispered into the darkness and sat up in the bed. After kicking off the covers, you made your way to the living room but as soon as you got there, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“Hey,” you whispered, “Are you okay? Are the bandages too tight?”

He pressed a hand over his side to check the bandage, then shook his head.

“No, no…” he said, “Did I wake you up?”

“Nope,” you said, “Is the bed too uncomfortable?”

“The opposite.”

You tilted your head “The bed is too…comfortable?”

He let out a small bitter chuckle and ran a hand over his face as you stepped into the room, then sat down on the floor as well.

“I’m not really used to…” he waved a hand to motion around you, “It’s not familiar to be comfortable.”

Ah.

Of course. You should’ve seen it coming, he was a soldier and coming back home was always so hard for soldiers, especially in Bucky’s situation.

You had so many nightmares after bad missions, you had no idea how you would sleep if you had anything close to what he had been through.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked and he shook his head again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.”

“Don’t be,” you murmured, “Do you want to be alone?”

“No,” he paused for a moment, “Please stay.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you pushed your hair behind you ear, taking a look at the pillow and the throw on the couch, then grabbed them and put them on the floor.

“Y/N, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

You rushed to the bedroom to grab your pillows and the blanket off the bed, then went back to the living room.

“What are you doing?”

“It’ll be fun,” you said, putting the pillows and blanket on the floor. “Like we’re outside, only not with…annoying bugs.”

“You’re not serious.”

You plopped down the floor and gave him a bright smile. “I am!”

“Darling….” He started but shook his head with a sigh as you lay on your side, pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

“I’m very stubborn, you’re wasting your time if you’re trying to change my mind,” you informed him and he shot you a small smile, then lay down as well. You entwined your fingers with his, then looked up at the ceiling.

“My virtue is so screwed,” you pointed out, making him huff out a laughter.

“Oh absolutely.”

“I mean, there goes my hopes of…” you trailed off, “White picket fence house and puffy skirts and homemade pies.”

“What, you don’t want them with me?” he asked and your heart skipped a beat, then you stole a look at him.

“Can you even imagine that?”

“Yes I can.”

“I think I picture a movie,” you said, “There’s this….big yard, and white picket fences and we painted the house white but the door is red.  And there’s a dog and— feel free to stop me anytime, Bucky.”

“Don’t,” he smiled as if picturing what you were describing made him happy, “Just keep going.”

“We have a rescue dog,” you said, “We got him from a shelter and named him… um, we named him something funny.”

“Is it a big dog?”

“Yeah and you take him on a run every night. Mornings with me, nights with you.”

“That’s a good schedule.”

“He likes me better.”

“Ouch,” his smile widened, “I don’t blame him.”

You hummed, “And you have a mustache I think.”

He shot you a look, “If you say a Clark Gable mustache…”

“I’m just putting it out there—”

“Nope. Not gonna happen.”

“Fine,” you let out a laugh, “And we have an apple tree in the garden. Wait no— we have an apple tree and a peach tree.”

“How big is the garden?”

“Not so big,” you said, “Like in those movies.”

He paused for a moment and you stole a look at him.

“You wanted a big garden?”

“Well,” he said, “We need a big garden for the treehouse.”

“We have a treehouse?”

“Depends,” he said slowly, as if he was intimidated, “Kids love treehouses.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of having kids with him, for the hundredth time the image of a happier future where you weren’t a spy flashing in front of your eyes. You tried to stop the smile pulling at your lips.

“Yeah,” you said, “I think our kids would love them too.”

You could see the ghost of a smile on his face as he rubbed his thumb over your hand.

“Yeah?”

“Mm hm,” you yawned, “And in summer we would put a bouncy house thing in the garden and we would put a hammock between the peach tree and the apple tree and we would relax there while the kids are wreaking havoc in the bouncy house.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, sleep luring you as you closed your eyes, taking in his scent, “Sounds like a good plan.”

                                                           ***

You really didn’t have time to second guess yourself today. Yes you had lied to the General and spent the whole night with Bucky imagining an impossible future but now, you had to keep your head in the game.

You would figure out what you would do. Eventually.

This was a mission. You had to start acting like it.

“I don’t think I like this one,” you called out from the dressing room and in a second, the door opened to reveal Chloe who raised her brows.

“Wow.”

You tilted your head and stepped outside to look at yourself better. The gold body chain wrapped around the lingerie gleamed under the shop’s bright lights and you fixed the suspenders, clicking your tongue.

“Nah. I don’t think so.”

“Wow,” she said again, “I hate you so much, why do you look so hot in lingerie?”

“Chloe, every woman looks hot in lingerie,” you said as you walked back to the dressing room to try the next lingerie set. It was a red lace bodysuit and after a moment of struggle, you got into it, and opened the door again.

“Not this one either.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to sleep with him!” Chloe squealed, “Are you excited?”

You cleared your throat, “It’s just a mission.”

“Yeah but you want to sleep with him?”

“The dude is hot.”

“Y/N.”

“What?” you fixed your hair and frowned at your reflection, “Nope. I don’t like this. It’s too….meh.”

“I doubt Barnes would say meh if he saw you in this,” she said, “He’d probably pass out. You look like you’re about to grab your whip or something. Oh— Y/N, you should like tie him up or something! If we’re not going full on vintage, show him the modern fun times!”

You shot her a look, “Something tells me he doesn’t like to be tied up Chloe.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, because HYDRA scumbags tied him up a lot and he still has nightmares about it?”

“Ah,” she said, “I forgot about that. Hey, maybe he could tie you up!”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I said to Julian when he suggested I called him sir in bed,” you stated, “No thank you, I don’t do that sub thing.”

“Now I kind of wish we specified your cover’s kinks,” she heaved a sigh, “It’d make things so much easier.”

“My cover likes to be in control.”

“No, real you likes to be in control,” she corrected you, “Nothing about your cover says control.”

“Chloe—“ you started but stopped talking when the shop assistant approached you.

“Do you find it to your liking?”

“Um, not exactly,” you said, “I mean I like the color but overall—“

“Do you have bridal sets?” Chloe cut you off and your eyes widened.

“Easy there.”

“Like maybe soft pastel tones…. The whole thing though, garter belt and stockings and everything.”

“Of course!” she said, “We have some new arrivals, let me bring them here.”

“Chloe!” you whispered as the shop assistant walked away, “What the fuck?”

“Think about the dresses we picked for your cover,” she said, “Soft pastels. It makes sense that your cover would pick those shades in lingerie too.”

“Bridal? Really?”

“I mean, Barnes will want to propose you right there when he sees you in them so…” she grinned at you while you narrowed your eyes at her, “Come on! I’m very curious about how he is in bed.”

You tilted your head, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” you asked, “Because love triangles are so early 2000s.”

“Hilarious,” she deadpanned, “And no. My type is more—relaxed. Less serious.”

You scoffed and leaned back on the wall, crossing your arms, “You could just say Keith.”

She shifted her weight, biting on her lip. “I mean…” she trailed off, “He still doesn’t make a move though.”

“Why don’t you make a move?”

“I could never!” she gasped, “Nope. Ever. Besides, I thought you were against me dating spies.”

“I am,” you admitted, “But it’s your love life. If you want to date a guy who has an extremely dangerous job and worry about whether or not he will come back to you alive….”

“You’re very romantic, Y/N,” she said as the assistant came closer, holding the set. Even you had to admit, it looked very sexy and beautiful at the same time, with soft pastel lace adorning the fabric, and you took a look at the basque, then walked inside.

“Besides, you’re the one to talk.” Chloe called out as you got into the lingerie, then ran your fingers over the garter belt.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Your boyfriend does dangerous stuff too.”

“Fake boyfriend,” you corrected her, fixing the basque, and as soon as your reflection caught your eye, you raised your brows.

“Okay, maybe you had a point,” you admitted and opened the door, and Chloe grinned at you.

“See,” she said, “This is what I was talking about.”

You smirked at her and leaned on your hip, still looking in the mirror.

“Fine, I like this one.”

“Told you,” she sang and you crossed your arms.

“What dangerous stuff has he been doing lately?”

“He was texting with Wilson about some HYDRA person,” Chloe said, “Apparently they want to go after him. Tonight.”

“What HYDRA person?”

“No clue. And we can’t send a team because then it’ll be obvious— Y/N, I know that look,” she shook her head fervently, “No.”

You tried to look as innocent as possible, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You want to go after the same HYDRA person as them, but you have specific orders and we still haven’t got the okay from the top of the chain of command to go after that scum.”

“Chloe.”

“No. I’m not going to give you the address.”

“Well if Barnes ends up dead, I won’t have a mission will I?”

“He’s going to be fine, he fights better than you.”

You gasped, “How dare you?”

“He fights better than everyone in the division!” she insisted, “He can take care of himself.”

You pouted, “Fine,” you said, “I guess I won’t give Keith the idea of taking you out on a date then.”

She paused for a moment, “That’s bribery.”

“Uh huh.”

“You have no shame, do you?”

You motioned at the lingerie set you were in, “Does it look like it?”

She rubbed at her eye and let out a small whine.

“If my dad asks—“

“He’s not going to know.”

“Do you promise to behave?”

“I always behave,” you stated, making her snort.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Please?” you asked, “I promise I’ll be safe. I’ll just make sure he’s alive, that’s it. I won’t get involved in anything.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

Chloe pursed her lips. “For your information, I think picnics are romantic.”

“Dully noted,” you said, “Trust me, he will take you on a picnic. So, do we have a deal?”

She rolled her eyes, then nodded, making you let out a laugh and walk back to the changing room.

“I want candles on that picnic too!”

“Send me the list of your demands,” you called out, “I’ll make sure they’re all covered.”

                                                      ***

In all honesty, Chloe was terrible at saying no to people, especially the people she loved.

You fixed your ski mask as you took a look at the text Bucky had sent you after you asked him what he was doing;

Nothing much, going home soon. You?  

“Liar liar….” You sang as you typed your reply.

Soup Kitchen was so tiring, I think I’ll go to bed early tonight.

Fine. Maybe he wasn’t the only liar in this relationship.

You took a look at the building’s window through your binoculars, then lowered them to check your phone when it vibrated.

Good idea. Sweet dreams darling.

You tried to ignore the smile on your lips but as soon as you heard gunshots coming from the building, your head shot up.

“Shit,” you murmured and tried to see what was happening, but it was impossible. Whoever they were, they were definitely staying away from windows.

“Not gonna get involved,” you muttered, “Not gonna get involved, it’s stupid and puts the mission in danger. I’ll stay right here, he can take care of himself.”

For about five seconds, it worked.

“I’m being stupid,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed the gear around your waist, then checked whether it would actually carry you, “I’m being so fucking stupid, I haven’t even slept with the dude yet….”

You went over to the edge of the rooftop, then took a deep breath, grabbed the cables and jumped to crash through the window of the building the gunshots were coming from. You pulled your gun to shoot the person who looked like he was about to shoot Bucky, sending him to the ground and Bucky pushed the guy he was fighting with through the wall, then turned around to point the gun at you but as soon as he did, he frowned.

“….Shrike?”

“Hi handsome.” You unbuckled the rope from the harness, sending it up to the rooftop again as he lowered his gun. “Need a hand?”

Chapter 18

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Try

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Warren has been through hell and then some, but will meeting his soulmate turn that around?

Note: That’s right, it’s ya girl, back on my BS. I watched Apocalypse again and BIG SURPRISE, I’m in love with Warren and Kurt all over again. Still hyperfixating on Pietro also, so…expect more fics for him as well. Anyway, I’m a ho for soulmate aus and I haven’t written one for birb boi in literal years, so here ya go.

Reader is: Gender Neutral

Warnings: swears, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.8k

Warren knew one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: he didn’t deserve a soulmate. He didn’t. There was no question in his mind. Anyone who was destined to end up with his winged, alcoholic ass had been fucked over by the universe. No one deserved to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives. And yet, these thoughts didn’t seem to erase the words written on his forearm:

Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.

Professor. He scoffed. He was never going to college. If his parents had gotten their way, their son “cured” of his wings, he would have ended up at Harvard or Yale or somewhere similar. But it was far too late for that. Sitting in a cage in the back room of an illegal underground mutant fighting club in Berlin…it was far too late for that. He’d probably die before he met his soulmate anyway, rendering the prophecy on his wrist—and theirs, for that matter—useless. A waste of space.

That was all he was anyway.

He spiraled. His dependence on vodka got worse. The fights got harder. He wasn’t making it out unscathed anymore, winding up with burns and scrapes and cuts, depending on what kind of mutant he was up against. One night, one of his cuts had gotten dangerously close to the writing on his wrist. He stared at it for a long time, tears burning his eyeballs until they escaped and dripped down his cheeks, angry and hot.

He hated it, but even after everything, he still had hope. He still had hope that things would get better; that he could be better, even if it seemed impossible.

And then it got…worse.

Apocalypse had come, turned his wings to metal, tuned into his anger, his rage at the world, turned him into a monster, complete with knives for feathers and winding tattoos framing his face. He wished he could blame it on mind control or something, but Apocalypse hadn’t brainwashed him, only used his anger against him. Turned him into a weapon.

And then everything went black.

When he woke up after the battle, he was in an unfamiliar room, large and white and sterile; it smelled like hand sanitizer. He heard the steady beeping of a heart monitor and when he sat up, he noticed how sore he was. His whole body hurt. His head spun. But he was alive. And when he looked down at his tattoo, the words were still there. Wherever his soulmate was, they were fine. His stupidity in joining Apocalypse hadn’t caused anything to happen to them.

For the first time in what felt like years, he breathed.

“You’re awake.” A voice said as a tall man with brown hair entered his room. “I’ll let the Professor know.”

“Where…” his deep voice rasped and the man pointed to a glass of water sitting on the table adjacent to the cot he was situated in. He picked it up and took a few long, greedy sips, not realizing just how thirsty he was until the cool drink hit his tongue. “Where am I? What is this place?”

“This is the infirmary at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.” The man told him, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You’re safe here.”

Warren nodded hesitantly, but didn’t say anything else. Safe. The word was almost a myth to him at this point. But at least he felt like he could rest for a little while.

***

It had been a few weeks since Apocalypse and his horsemen had almost ended the world. Erik had decided to stick around, and two of the younger horsemen, Storm and “the Angel of Death,” respectively, had been absorbed into the school’s student body. You didn’t know the Angel’s name. No one really talked to him, not even Ororo, Storm, who had been quickly adopted by your friend group.

Supposedly, Peter had tried to talk to the Angel guy, but he didn’t say anything to him. Ororo theorized he probably felt guilty about the whole thing. She did. But you all knew she didn’t know what Apocalypse was really trying to do. He probably hadn’t either, but that didn’t seem to keep the grim expression off of his face.

It was on a nice, sunny day that Xavier called you into his office, and you went down without complaint, knocking on the door a few times before he called you inside. You sat in the chair across from his desk.

“Hi, Professor. What’s going on?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. Just the empath and healer I wanted to see.” He smiled brightly. “(Y/N), if you don’t mind it too terribly, I have a small job for you.”

“Of course! What do you need?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen our newest pupil, Warren, around.”

You thought for a moment. “The, uh, guy with the wings? The big metal ones?”

“Precisely.” He nodded. “Warren…he’s been having quite a hard time adjusting.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He came to me yesterday discussing…well, quite simply, he was wondering if any of our mutants here would be capable of…reverting him to his previous state. His wings, before Apocalypse, were made of feathers. They’ve been serving as quite a reminder to him and it’s been weighing pretty heavily on him, both literally and emotionally.”

“Yeah, I’ve, uh, caught his vibes from across campus.” You nodded. “It’s like there’s always a rain cloud hanging over his head.”

“Yes,” Xavier agreed. “It doesn’t have to be right away, but at your nearest convenience, if you see him around, would you talk to him? Tell him I sent you?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see what I can do.” You promised him.

As an empath and a healer, your first priority was helping others. And even if he was known to be a bit intimidating, you wanted to help him if you could.

So, you walked out of Xavier’s office, attended your final class of the day, and when it was over, you wandered out into the courtyard where, because of the nice weather, students were everywhere. And luckily for you, just as you suspected he might be, Warren was sitting under a tree, still sporting his leather jacket despite the warm weather.

You shielded your eyes from the sun and walked over towards him, your heart racing as you built up the courage to talk to him. So, you took a breath and said, “Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.”

He stared up at you for a long moment, his green eyes wide in shock. He took a breath, blinked a few times, glanced down at his wrist, and then back up at you. You could have sworn you saw tears beginning to form along his waterline, and you didn’t realize why until he said, “You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

You froze, your knees going weak. You glanced down at your bare forearm and read over the words he’d just said, exactly the way he’d just said them.

You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.

“Why are you sorry?” You whispered, lowering yourself onto the grass beside him, not trusting your legs to support your weight for much longer. Now you were the one with tears in your eyes. “Don’t be sorry.”

“You deserve so much more than me.” He insisted, his eyes locked on his boots, unwilling and unable to meet your gaze. “I can’t drag you into…this. Me.”

His emotions were heavy, a bleak blue and gray haze and you felt it radiate off of him in waves. His pain, his everything. And you felt it, deep within his chest. He thought you wouldn’t want him anyway.

“Warren…” You shook your head. “Why…Why would you think I don’t want you?”

He was shocked into silence for a few seconds, thinking over his words carefully, his jaw tense and hands shaking. “You’re a telepath?”

“Empath.” You corrected quietly. “And…a healer. Which is why Xavier sent me.”

“Oh. Right.” He swallowed thickly, nodding. “Did he…tell you why?”

“He did.” You smiled softly. “And I’m willing to try if you are.”

Finally, his eyes met yours and he could tell that you meant more than just the healing when you said it. The weak little voice in the back of his head was screaming for him to push you away like he pushed away everyone else, but looking into your eyes, a genuine and warm smile on your face, he just…couldn’t lose you.

He couldn’t lose anyone else.

***

Today was the day. Warren was sitting on a stool in the infirmary. Hank had run his vitals and the two of them were in the room waiting for you to come down after your class was over.

“(Y/N) is the one who saved you, you know.” Hank told Warren while he jotted down some notes.

“What?” Warren asked, snapping out of whatever daydream he had been caught up in. “What do you mean?”

“(Y/N) found you in the rubble. We didn’t think you would make it, but…they healed you. They insisted we bring you back here. Give you a chance.”

Warren was quiet for a long time, thinking about what that meant. Part of him wondered if (Y/N) had known back then that he was their soulmate, but he decided that would have been impossible with just their tattoos alone. Especially without context. They hadn’t known and yet, they’d still wanted the best for him.

“Didn’t know that.” Warren said, his voice soft and deep. He stared at the words on his wrist for a little longer, a hint of warmth swirling around in his stomach. Was this happiness? Was that what happiness felt like? He barely remembered anymore. But he knew there must have been a reason that when you walked through the door, his heart started beating a little bit faster.

“Sorry I’m so late. Professor Leaf kept us a little later than she was supposed to. Are you ready?” You asked taking off your backpack and setting it against the wall. As soon as you looked up at Warren, you felt the way his heart rate was increased and you didn’t miss the warmth swirled with the anxiousness. The anxiousness, you had expected. Even you didn’t know if you could pull off what you were going to attempt to do, but the warmth…it was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t worry about it.” He told you, shaking his head. Was he…was he smiling? It was a small smile, sure, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him smile before. It looked good on him. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Alright.” You nodded, walking over towards him. Underneath where he was situated on a stool, Hank had laid out some pads from the training room, you assumed, to catch his metal feathers if they fell out rather than transforming back to his normal…feather feathers. None of you really knew how this would unfold. “Again, I’m not sure this will work. I don’t want to get your hopes up in case it doesn’t.”

“I’m not expecting it to.” Warren assured you, but it wasn’t in a rude way. “If it does, I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Cross my heart.” What he didn’t say was: You could never disappoint me. Not even if you tried.

“Okay.” You nodded, taking a few steps closer until you were standing right in front of him. He looked up at you and for the first time, you didn’t feel any negative emotions from him. Only anticipation and that lingering warmth. “Here goes nothing.”

You focused on the warmth in your own chest, the tingling yellow healing power that constantly swirled around your heart, and you forced it into your palms. You reached forward for his hands and he took the hint, his larger hands wrapping around yours.

Immediately, he gasped at the sensation, warm tingles running up his arms, down his spine. It stopped in the center of his back, right where his wings intersected with his body. At first, he didn’t feel anything. And then, he felt everything. The pleasant warmth flooded his metal wings, and one by one, the knife-like feathers fell out, each one landing with a thud against the mat situated underneath him.

Hank’s pencil jotted against his notebook as he took notes. He knew you were powerful, but he’d had no idea you were capable of something like this.

Neither had you.

Once the metal wings were gone, Warren felt a new sensation: another pair of wings, this one soft and familiar, slowly emerging from him. Part of him expected the process to be painful, like the one Apocalypse had forced upon him was, but it wasn’t. Warren chuckled to himself. Of course you would never hurt him. Not even unintentionally.

After a few minutes, the feathery wings had fully emerged, stretched out to his full former wingspan and he stared up at you in awe. You stopped your flow of power to him, but he held onto your hands, squeezing them to keep them in his grasp.

He looked back at his new wings, flexed them and moved them. They felt familiar, like they had always belonged to him.

“Thank you.” He said, giving your hands another squeeze, the warmth in his chest brighter and bolder than it had been before. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” You told him, squeezing his hands right back in a way that caused his heart to lurch. “I’m glad I could help.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you mind if I keep some of these for research?” Hank asked.

“Keep all of them, if you want. I don’t want them.” Warren told him, standing up from his stool, his hands still in yours. “So, um…do you want to go grab dinner or something?”

“Sure.” You nodded, smiling up at him. “See you later, Hank.”

“Bye, guys, have a nice night.” Hank said as you and Warren walked out of his lab. He couldn’t help but notice the way one of your hands remained in one of his as the two of you left.

***

Later that night, after dinner and after you and Warren had split for the evening, you were walking back to your room from Jean and Jubilee’s and you found Warren, lingering in his doorway, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His eyes widened when he spotted you and he held up a finger, indicating you should wait for him, so you did while he went into his bathroom and rinsed out his mouth, returning a few moments later.

“Hey.” He said, the word casual as it fell from his pink lips.

“Hey yourself.” You chuckled, feeling ridiculously underdressed in your pajamas. But then again, he was wearing his pajamas, too, a large black Metallica shirt and a pair of plaid pants.

“How…how are you? Feeling?” He stumbled over his words, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. You felt a wave of nervousness rush through him. “Hank said sometimes you get tired after, uh, bigger healing jobs?”

“I’m fine.” You nodded. “For whatever reason, I never get tired when I’m healing you.” You chuckled, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Well…I think I know why…”

“Heh, yeah.” He nodded, mulling over his next words very carefully. “Did you, um…I don’t know how to ask this. Did you mean what you said about…trying? About us trying…this. Trying us.”

“Of course I did.” You nodded and took a few steps closer to him. “You’re my soulmate.” You reached for his hand and he gave it to you, letting you play with his fingers. You felt the way his heart fluttered when you did. “Of course I want to try.”

“I’m broken.” He told you. “I’ve never done this before. I’m…I’m a lot, and I know that.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m a healer, huh?” You tilted your head. “And if we’re being honest, I’ve never done this before either. So how about we teach each other? Learn together?”

He smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

You let go of his hand and instead took the last few steps between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his torso. He froze for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. It had been…a long time since anyone had hugged him. But after a few moments, his arms got the hint and wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. He rested his head atop yours and exhaled a long, long breath. And for the first time since you’d met him, you felt a wave of peace wash over him, encasing him entirely as his wings gently cocooned you in their warmth.

You felt his lips brush against your temple, pressing a soft kiss there. You looked up at him and his eyes met yours before fluttering shut as he leaned in to press his lips to yours.

[laequiem]

kiss you off my lips - folktober day 5

Jurdannet Folktober 2021- Day 05. She who pulls the strings @jurdannet @jurdannetrevels

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Pairing: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar but seen through Nicasia/Cardan Greenbriar? lol

Rating: mature

Word count: 2,532

The Puppet King, my subjects call me. Allegedly, the Living Council pulls the strings, controlling me from behind the scenes. They think themselves subtle, but I hear their whispers. Their words, however, slide off my armor like rain. After all, I have heard them countless times, from other’s lips or from my own mind. I was my mother’s puppet, then Balekin, and now I am Jude’s.

read on ao3

Masterlist • She kills my self-control masterpost

The Puppet King, my subjects call me. Allegedly, the Living Council pulls the strings, controlling me from behind the scenes. They think themselves subtle, but I hear their whispers. Their words, however, slide off my armor like rain. After all, I have heard them countless times, from other’s lips or from my own mind. I was my mother’s puppet, then Balekin, and now I am Jude’s.

Most days—more than a King, more than a marionette—I feel like a courtesan. Dabbling in steamy displays with courtiers I am barely interested in, all to keep the façade of the immoral king. I pretend at power, desperate for a nod of approval from my seneschal, while she does all the work. Of course, she had never asked me to whore myself out.

Until today.

I do not know who started our tumbling. Maybe I did, my anger blinding me to the foolishness of what we were about to do, in that small room behind the dais. Forgetting that touching Jude again would remind me of everything I have tried to forget since that day she rode me in her rooms. When I kissed her, that anger melted away, replaced immediately with the desire I have been helplessly fighting against for years.

Or maybe this was Jude’s plan all along. She is more faerie than she seems, at least in the way she schemes and bargains. I will charm Nicasia and get her the info she wants. In exchange, she gave me what I want: her.

Her tart taste lingers in my mouth. I did not kneel for her this time, but licking her taste off my fingers made me regret not indulging that particular thirst.

I find Nicasia easily, splendid in a pearl white gown, talking to Randalin. The small sprite does not stand a chance against her. His goat eyes shift towards me, then he bows deeply. Nicasia turns to me, unable to hide her surprise and delight that I have come to her.

“Cardan,” she croons.

Randalin chokes on nothing, animal eyes going wide. I raise a brow at Nicasia and cross my arms.

“Your Majesty,” she corrects herself, a purplish tint blossoming on her cheeks. I will never tire of this.

“Princess Nicasia.” I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Would you accompany me on a walk? For old time’s sake.”

“It would be my pleasure,” she beams up at me.

We make boring small talk as we walk, her arm looped around my elbow. The path leads us away from the Palace, towards the beach separating the Shifting Isles. Jude seemed to think Nicasia still liked me, and I suppose I can see it. She looks up at me with clear interest, though the conversation is as weary as can be. I work my charm up even more. A small hibiscus shrub blossoms as we walk past and I pluck a flower, tucking it in her hair with a calculated graze of my knuckles against her cheek.

The sea does not rise to greet us as we set foot on the sand.

“The sea is unnaturally calm,” I say.

I chuck off my shoes and Nicasia’s eyes dart straight to my bare feet. I hope Jude does not ask me if she was right that Nicasia still holds feelings for me, I fear I would not be able to lie.

“It is,” she says, turning back towards the sea.

I slowly uncuff my shirt for the second time today. I chase away the memories of Jude’s curious fingers on me. The way she explored and grabbed at me like she needed to figure me out, to plan out how to efficiently unravel me next time.

Next time.

I hope there is a next time.

“I must admit I am surprised,” I tell her nonchalantly, "I thought the Undersea always made true on their threats.”

I will the nearest tree to stretch out a branch towards me. I unbutton my shirt and remove it, then hang it on the branch.

“What do you mean?” Nicasia asks.

She turns to me. The way she devours me with her eyes takes me back to a time of shared wickedness and complicity. A time when it was us against the world, a time when she chose me over my siblings.

Until she chose Locke over me.

Now do you believe me that she wants you? Jude had asked. I suppose I do.

At one point, this look on Nicasia’s face would have set all my nerves on fire. Now, I feel the same as when strangers ogle me.

“Cleave together lest you face the rising tide,” I singsong, reciting the words from Queen Orlagh’s minion at the Hunter’s Moon revel in the same melody they used. “Yet the sea stays quiet. I take it your kind has another plan.”

I reach for the lace holding together my breeches and pull at the knot. Nicasia looks down at her hands, suddenly captivated by her nails.

“Perhaps,” she says too quickly. “Or perhaps we hope you will come to your senses.”

“We all hope so.”

Including me. Just not about this particular issue. My issue is of the mortal kind, the kind who deals in secrets and knives.

I hang my pants next to my shirt. Nicasia is still fully dressed, standing with her back straight and her lips tightly shut. I stop in front of her and trail a finger up her arm before slipping it under one of the straps of her dress.

“Will you not join me, Princess?”

My tail brushes up her spine and she arches towards me. I don’t wait for her to answer, though. I run into the sea.

The water is cold, unwelcoming. Before becoming High King, the salt water would not have bothered me as much. With only minor magic, only ingesting salt would have hurt me. Now, it grates at my skin like sandpaper, as if eating away my skin to get to the magic within. My magic recoils from any part of me in contact with the water. It’s heinous. I would rather take a dip in the Lake of Masks.

On the shore, Nicasia strips off her dress, hose, heels, tiara, everything. Then, she runs towards the water in a wave of blue-tinged skin and blue hair. She dives under, agile and more in her element than I could ever be.

She resurfaces next to me, a smile on her painted lips.

“Like old times,” she says.

“Like old times, but so much more complicated.” I sigh, then cast my line. “It used to be so easy.”

She takes a step towards me, biting the bait. “What was?”

And I reel it in.

“Everything,” I say with a frown. I take a step towards her, and put my hand on her cheek. “Us.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” she says softly.

“It does.” I sigh again. “Do you realize how hard it is to please everyone? The Living Council is always on my case. And my seneschal—”

She groans. “Why do you even keep her around?”

Because she commands me. Because she is the true ruler of Elfhame. Because I love her.

“I have to.”

Nicasia puts her hand over mine. Her fingers are webbed now, I notice. No gills, however. I suppose she knows I have no desire to ever follow her under again. Now that I am High King, I don’t have to—unlike when I was no more than the lover of the Future Queen of the Undersea.

I wonder if Nicasia notices the way I look at Jude. I wonder if I used to look at her like that, or if it was something else. I did love Nicasia, once, but it was never as labyrinthine.

I try to emulate that look just now, I try to look at her like I used to. Nicasia is still the same beautiful creature she always was: a perfectly symmetrical face composed of sharp angles and large, deep eyes. She is beautiful in the way a painting is, a piece of art to be admired. Just like art, she can make you feel things—but it’s nothing as primordial as what I feel for Jude. Like she is the beating heart I am tethered to.

“There are things I can choose for myself.”

I stroke her cheek with my thumb. She leans into my touch, angling her head towards my hand.

“… things?” Nicasia asks.

“Lovers. Consorts.” I lean in towards her ear and whisper, “A Queen.”

The words sound so wrong, they claw at my throat as they come out. I am surprised I can even say them, but they are not lies. I simply have no desire to make Nicasia any of these things.

“Ca—Your Majesty,” she gasps.

“We’re in private. Cardan is fine.”

I kiss the soft spot under her ear, then pull at the lobe with my teeth. Her skin tastes salty. Like seawater, of course, not the salty tang of sweat drying on skin after an exhausting training session. The point of her ear is unsettling, sharp like a blade.

“Cardan.” She slides a hand behind my neck, toying with my hair the way she knows I like. “Why refuse me so often then?”

I pull back to look at her, my hands roaming down to settle on her small waist.

“My subjects think me… young. Foolish.” I look towards the Palace, the grassy hill looming over the trees. “They already say I am a puppet.”

“They are the fools,” she spits.

I shake my head. “I am a fool. Regardless, if I were to marry so early after being crowned, they would think you the mother of puppets. The one who pulls my strings.”

“Especially given my mother’s insistence,” she says and I nod.

I pull her to me, her hips pressing against mine. Bone against bone. Wildly different from the soft but strong body I was exploring hours earlier.

“Politics, you know.” I sigh. “Tedious.”

I think I am overdoing it on the sighs, but what can I say? I am quite dramatic, even when I am not acting.

“Still,” I lean in, barely a hair’s breadth away from her face, “I have a say in whom I woo.”

Our lips crash together like waves on rocks. Hers are cold, which is fitting seeing how unaffected I am by this. It’s the kind of lustful kiss I give my partners, no feelings other than desire. My body is not fooled, however—kissing Nicasia has about the same effect on me as listening to Fala’s ramblings. I tip her head backward and she complies, malleable and utterly bewitched. My other hand slides from her hip to her buttox. I squeeze a barely-there cheek and she giggles against my mouth.

One of her hands is tangled in my hair while the other one slips from my shoulder down my back. As she has always done, she avoids my scars like they are made of iron. When we were together, I thought it was for my own sake that she never acknowledged them. That she was being kind, in her own way. When I had fresh wounds and I refused to take off my clothes, she understood. But when I ended it and my mind stormed to figure out what went wrong and led her astray, it started to feel more intentional. Like she sees my scars as weakness and she fears that touching them would contaminate her.

“I miss us,” she whispers against my lips.

I only hum an agreement, pulling away to kiss at her throat. Her hand continues its careful trek down my back, until she gets at the base on my spine. A dreadful shiver goes up my spine as I anticipate what she is about to do. Sure enough, her fingers circle the base of my tail. She strokes it, letting it slip between her fingers for the whole length of it. I jerk away, take a step back. As if to spite me, the sea places a slimy rock right under my foot and I slip, falling backwards into the water with the grace of a drunken redcap.

I spit out no less than a gallon of water as I resurface, choking on the salt that is sure to take days to leave my system. Nicasia’s mouth is twisted up in remnants of a smile, her eyes glinting with amusement.

“What happened?” she asks as I stand.

“Something… touched me,” I grumble, a faerie truth if nothing else.

She reaches out, moving a wet strand of hair away from my face. “The High King is afraid of a little fishie?”

I scowl, then splash her with water. “I am not afraid.”

Nicasia chuckles. I shrug her off, starting towards the beach.

“Leaving already?” she teases.

“My guards will start looking for me soon enough, if my seneschal isn’t already on her way.”

Nicasia grunts, probably rolling her eyes dramatically as she follows behind me. “That mortal has too much power.”

I stop in front of the branch I left my clothes on. I still feel the salt on my skin, drying there as the water drips away. I grab my tail and wring water from the tuft at the end of it.

“Does she?” I ask, bored.

“Yes!” Nicasia steps around and puts herself between me and the branch. “What will our world become if mortals do not learn their place? As their power grows, we ought to unite. The Land. The Sea.”

“Nicasia—” I start, but she interrupts me.

“The sea is growing impatient, Cardan,” Nicasia continues, a hint of irritation hidden under the usually pleasant lilt of her voice. “My mother thinks the Land is weak, she might act any moment.”

I inspect my nails, picking a grain of salt from under one of them. “If the Crown is so weak, why try to unite with us at all?”

“I want us to be united,” she spreads her hands, palm up.

“And I want to bathe. Your regnal birthright is quite cold.”

I step around her and start dressing up. Behind me, I hear her stop, then the rustling of fabric.

“Do not jest,” she scolds. “What she’s planning—you should take it seriously.”

“I do. And I will think it over, once I am warmed up.” I finish cuffing my shirt, then hold my arm out for her. “Will you accompany me?”

Arm in arm, we return to the Palace. Even without their High King, the Folk still partake in their traditional merriment. Unheeding of my vague promises and empty words, Nicasia spends the rest of the night at my side. We trade kisses and caresses for everyone to see. Later, we move to the rooms assigned to her to do more of the same, to bathe and exchange soft whispers. When I leave Nicasia’s chambers, she hands me notes regarding her mother’s plans to attack during Taryn Duarte’s wedding.

As I collapse on my bed, finally alone, I curse Jude’s name for being right. Still, her name is the last thing on my mind as I drift asleep.

-

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[wonderwomanfantasy]

Tamaki’s bunny

bunny kink goes brrr

Tamaki x fem!Reader

word count: 1,100 (about)

warnings: smut, pet play, tenticle sex, 

summary: Tamaki loves bunny girls and his own quirk. 

Tamaki had never seen an angrier looking bunny rabbit. Not that he could blame this particular bunny for being so upset. Tamaki held out his arms and you angrily hopped into his embrace, he held you and stroked your soft forehead and that seemed to relax you a little bit.  

“How long did you say she would be like this again?” he asked

“A day at the most, she should be 100% human this time tomorrow,” your side kick assured him. You had been helping a child out of a tree they were stuck in, the poor kid was so scared they accidentally hit you with their quirk, turning you into an adorable fluffy bunny. 

“Okay, I’ll take care of them from here,” he said and carried you out of the office, He was a little too happy about this situation. He got to see you as a cute little bunny, that he got to cuddle and play with then in 24 hours he got his girlfriend back. 

“I know you’re mad baby but try to relax okay? I’m going to take good care of you,” he promised, lowering you onto his lap. you still seemed upset, but at least comfortable. 

“I’ll feed you all the carrots you want baby,” he promised wich earned him a strong kick to the gut, Tamaki just laughed “I probably deserved that”

Tamaki didn’t know much about rabbits, but he thought you must be particularly tame one. You were content to snuggle with him on the couch while he watched tv. 

Tamaki pet you lightly, resting you on his chest and occasionally he would lean down and kiss your cute little face watching your nose twitch. The two of you might just have to get a bunny of your own after you were back to normal. 

As much as it pained him, Tamaki did have to put you down at some point, Even if you were smarter than the average bunny he didn’t think it would be a good idea to put you up on the counter next to the stovetop and knives while he cooked dinner. 

There was a loud popping sound and a yelp. Tamaki dropped the bell pepper he was cutting and darted to the living room where he’d left you. your head popped up behind the couch and smiled at him.

“There a lot better,” you said standing up and stretching in your human body. Tamaki’s mouth dropped open, not only were you stark naked, which honestly he should have expected, But you weren’t exactly all the way back to normal. 

Your eyes were a little bigger, your two front teeth slightly larger than the rest and of course, there were the ears and the tail. 

“baby?” you asked, confused by his reaction. your ears twitched with your questions and flopped down when you cocked your head to the side. 

Cute. he tried to tell himself. the ears were cute. not sexy. and he defiantly wasn’t getting turned on by the naked bunny girl in his living room. fuck. 

“uh- uhm maybe you should take a look in the mirror babe,” he said nervously averting his gaze. you furrowed your brow and turned to the mirror hanging on the wall and your mouth fell open. 

“holly shit,” you breathed. then frowned. “they said the change back would be automatic but I guess they were wrong, At least I can talk now,” you sighed, rubbing your ears with your thumb and forefinger as if checking to make sure they were real. 

“you should put some clothes on,” Tamaki muttered, his pants were getting uncomfortably tight, and he needed at least a small brake to calm himself down. you looked down at your body, realised you were naked and looked back at him a wicked smile playing on your lips.

“oh? I’m sorry baby, am I distracting you?” you teased, wiggling your chest at him, making him blanch. you giggled and hopped over to him circling your arms around his shoulders. 

“awe Tamaki don’t tell me you’re getting all hot over a bunny girl like some sorta pervert,” you teased. Tamaki felt his soul leave his body as your tits pressed against him. the worst part was he knew you were right, He was a pervert. How was he supposed to tell you that this was his biggest fantasy and that this felt like a dream come true? His hands moved with a mind of there own and fell to your ass, feeling the warm skin and the way your body curved until he found the soft cotton ball tail. He squeezed. 

Instantly your knees buckled and you fell against him moaning wantonly, all of your teasing energy gone. Tamaki’s eyes gleamed with excitement. 

“sensitive Bunny?” he asked. Your cheeks went pink with embarrassment 

“shut up-” before you could snap at him further he ran his hands up to your hair rubbing the back of your ears making you moan loudly. you were sensitive. Tamaki smiled to himself and kissed the collum of your throat as his hand kept rubbing your ears. Your body melted against his urging him to keep touching you. 

“A-Amajiki,” you whimpered moving his thigh between your legs humping his jean-clad thigh

“whose the pervert now?” he teased as you humped his leg, 

“Are you complaining?”  you asked he lifted you up, his fingers digging into the soft fat of your thighs as he moved you to the bedroom.  

Tamaki was gentle dropping you on the bed and fliped you on your stomach, it was probably the kindest he was going to treat you for the rest of the night. 

“ass up,” he ordered, and you complied arching your back in the sluttiest way possible. With one hand he shoved down his pants with the other he squeezed your fluffy little tail. He pulled out his cock and began fisting his length. then he suddenly remembered he had had Takoyaki for lunch. 

“Stay still baby,” he murmured sinking to his knees cock still in hand. His tongue grew thicker and longer in his mouth until the tentacle spilled out of his mouth purple and covered in drool. 

The tentacle moved on it’s own prodding open your hole, stretching and thrashing inside of you.

“Oh fuck Amajiki is that your tongue?” you moaned your walls clamping around his tongue. Tamaki hummed in confirmation. the tentacle pulsed inside of you and thrashed around. hitting your spot making you cream around him. Your thighs trembled as he continued to fuck you with his tongue until a mix of drool and arousal was dripping down your legs. 

“Please fuck me Amajiki,” you whined, looking back at him your soft ears twitching. fuck he needed you bad, his hand wasn’t doing it for him anymore he needed more. 

“okay bunny anything you want.”

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2.7k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm

Masterlist here 

AO3 Link here

Atsumu didn’t get his name on the National team roster, let alone the Olympic team because of his genius setting skills (unlike dear Tobio-kun),  but because of the stubbornness and determination that he has in spades and figures he might as well deploy these same qualities to win this particular match. Osamu is of zero help here, muttering insults under his breath but fortunately, he has an unwitting accomplice in Shino, who happily babbles about how ‘mama is going to bring her to the park on Sunday’ . 

So armed with onigiris pilfered from Osamu and a box of mochi from her favourite dessert shop, he goes a-hunting for his wife and child at the park on Sunday afternoon and finds them lying on a picnic mat in an open field framed with trees.

‘Oto-san! ’ Shino squeals and dashes into his arms. He lifts her up, spinning her in the air, pressing kisses to her chubby cheeks. 

‘What are you doing here, Atsumu?’ she demands as she sits up. ‘How did you even know we’d be here?’ 

He winks and gives her his most dashing smile. It doesn’t seem to work though - the frown on her face deepens, but he tries not to let her look of distrust slice through the smile on his face. 

‘A little princess gave me a hint that her mama still has a habit of going to the park to watch the birds and clouds in the sky. Right, Shino?’

Shino cheers and waves her arms in reply. 

‘Good girl!’ he laughs encouragingly. 

She folds her arms and is about to retort when Shino demands that ‘Oto-san and Oka-san’ try to catch her - and takes off, barefoot on the grass. Atsumu catches her easily with one hand - because of course he does, a three year old is hardly a match against a national athlete, even with an injury, but Shino pouts when she sees the cross look on her mother’s face, and she has to hastily rearrange her expression into something more acceptable to her daughter. 

He counts it as a point won when they share the onigiris and mochi in silence and watch their little girl chase butterflies in the grass. 

‘What on earth are you doing here?!’ she says, feeling as if she’s woken up from a bad dream to find it actually is her reality. 

Atsumu stands in the foyer of her office building, in the middle of a conversation with Yuna-san, the resident office gossip, who shoots daggers at her when he bounds over to greet her with a peck on her cheek. 

‘I thought I’d surprise my dear wife with lunch,’ he drawls, with an emphasis on the word ‘wife’, passing her a bento box that smells amazing and makes her mouth water despite herself.

‘What are you playing at?!’ she hisses while pretending to tuck his hair behind his ear.   

‘Nothing!’ he answers her, a too-innocent look on his face. ‘And you’re welcome. Enjoy your lunch, sweetheart!’ 

He counts another point won when she’s left gaping at him incredulously as he prances off. 

He pats himself on the back for the stroke of genius that prompted him to pass Shino the three tickets to the Osaka Aquarium. Before she could utter even a word, Shino shrieked in excitement at the thought of being able to see her favourite penguins again, so with gritted teeth, she agreed to bring Shino to meet him at the aquarium on a Saturday afternoon. 

‘Did you know seahorses mate for life?’ he remarks to her as Shino gathers with the other children in front to watch the penguins being fed. 

‘And male seahorses are the responsible ones who bear their young - what’s your point anyway?’ she responds, contempt dripping from her voice. ‘Anyway, never mind that -’ she continues, brushing him off. ‘Have you signed the divorce papers?’

‘I forgot,’ he tells her lamely. 

‘See that you remember to pass it to me next time’, she says, walking ahead to scoop Shino up in her arms. 

Point lost. Time to recalibrate. 

‘Atsumu! What the hell am I supposed to do with FIFTY rolls of toilet paper?’ she shrieks over the phone. 

‘I may have bought a little too much…but there was a great discount!’ he responds sheepishly. 

He’d overheard a conversation between her and Osamu yesterday that she needed to make a grocery run but hadn’t had the time to do so in between endless meetings with her boss. He concedes he may have gone a little...overboard.

‘And how many cans of milk powder did you buy?!’ he continues to hear her scrabble through the cardboard crate outside her home. ‘Atsumu!’ 

‘Gotta go, bye darlin’ - talk to you soon!’, he says, hastily ending the call as she screeches at him. 

Shit. Another point lost.  

He brings out the big guns by buying season passes to the museum of natural history, gambling that a blatant appeal to nostalgia might win him some points. But he knows she recognises his gambit when she corners him while Shino is playing with toy fossils in the sandbox. 

‘Atsumu. When are you going to sign the divorce papers?’ she demands, her grip tight on his elbow. 

Defend. Counterattack. 

‘I’ll sign them after my collarbone heals and my arm is out of the sling, alright? I can’t even hold anything in my right hand, let alone sign anything now’, he says with a false smile.

Hold your opponent off until they start to tire. 

‘Fine’, she mutters, shooting him a hard stare. ‘Make sure you do. I’ll be waiting once that sling comes off’. 

Fuck. He’s backed himself into a corner. This might be a harder match than he imagined. 

He offers to look after Shino on a Friday evening when she mentions to Osamu her boss organised a client dinner that she can’t miss. She’d nodded reluctantly after a moment’s hesitation, and they agreed that he’d drop the little girl off at home around ten p.m. 

He fumbles with the keys pilfered from Osamu, pizza box balancing precariously on top of Shino’s pram and after an undignified struggle, manages to squeeze in through the doorway, finding the apartment completely still. With his one good arm, he lifts Shino from the pram, careful not to disturb her slumber and treads softly to her bedroom, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead as he tucks her in. 

As he returns back to the entryway to fold the pram away, a glint of gold catches his eye, and he forgets to breathe when he realises what it is – the wedding ring he'd deliberately left behind, an act calculated to inflict maximum pain. Wow, he really wishes he could go back in time and punch that stupid prick of his past self - he thinks, holding the ring up to the light, failing to spot any flecks of dust or dullness to the sheen of the ring. She's kept it meticulously clean, sitting in the exact same spot he left it, the sole artefact of their marriage that's been preserved against the passage of time. 

After all, he notices that she’s wiped the place clean of him, that much is obvious when he turns to survey the home he left almost a year ago. There are signs of Shino in the toys scattered all over the worn carpet in the living room, colourful scribbles on the walls that probably makes her fret, and there are little touches that remind him of her - the chipped teacup she insists on using, the set of handmade knives displayed in the kitchen that was always intended by her family as a threat. 

But there are no traces of him - no stray pieces of clothes or volleyballs that he always forgets to put away (that she’d always get on his case for), no picture frames of them, not even the ones from their wedding day that he’d loved because he thought she looked like a snow maiden from a fairytale in her white kimono. 

He’d promised her father that day he’d always take care of her. He wonders when he’d forgotten that. 

‘Tsumu?’ he hears her murmur, and he jumps a little in shock because he hadn’t noticed her curled up on the couch. ‘Have you come home?’ 

Yes – he aches to answer, but does not. 

(Because he knows he chose to turn his back on this little apartment, filled to the brim with happy, golden memories. It’s his fault he can’t call this place home, not anymore.)

‘I brought pizza in case you’re hungry’, he does say loudly – carefully keeping his distance as she sits up and shakes the sleep from her eyes. 

‘Oh. It’s you’, she says, and he can hear cold steel return to her voice. ‘Why are you still here?’ 

‘I brought pizza to share. It’s Friday night, remember?’ he answers, plastering a grin on to his face, gesturing at the pizza box on the kitchen table. ‘I even got pepperoni, your favourite’. 

‘You can’t keep playing this game, Atsumu’, she says, walking over to the switches to flick on the lights. It brings her into clearer focus, allowing him to notice the pink scars stretched across the back of her hand and the front of her knees -  were they always there before? 

His eyes sweep over her form - and oh -  his heartbeat thunders, roaring in his chest because she’s wrapped herself in his old jacket - the same one he’d stolen from Osamu and threw over her trembling shoulders that fateful night when he stole a kiss from her for the first time.     

‘I miss you’. He blurts out, startling himself. ‘I want us to be a family again’. 

‘I don’t’, she answers so forcefully it makes him take a step back. ‘I want a divorce, Atsumu’. 

‘But why?’ he persists, ignoring the spike of panic coursing through his blood. ‘If you give me a chance, we could try to start over again.’

‘How many chances do you think you deserve, because you’ve already left me  twice, damn you!’ she shouts, pulling the jacket tighter around herself, as if to keep herself from unravelling apart. ‘The first time you left me when I was pregnant with our child was enough of a blow – but the second time I fell to  pieces and if it weren’t for Shino and ‘Samu, I would’ve never been able to weld myself back together again. And now after all this time, you want me to take you back?’

‘It’s only been a few months’, he pleads, hating how stupid his excuses sound, even in his head. ‘I should've managed it better, I should’ve talked things out with you instead of just leaving, and if I could rewind time and change what I did, I would, but I can’t, and I regretted it so goddamn much when I got to Milan. I’m back now, I’m begging you - please give me another chance.’ 

‘Why would you even think you deserve another chance’, she laughs, the sound fraying at its seams, sending shivers down his spine. ‘You’ve spent our entire marriage putting your dreams first, Shino a distant second, and me - your fucking wife - dead last. This past year has taught me that I don’t need you, ‘Tsumu, I don’t need your lying, cheating ass in my life when I can manage perfectly fine by myself’. 

‘I didn’t cheat on ya’, he defends himself heatedly, but she levels him a hard glare that makes his gaze slide to the ground. ‘I mean - I thought about it, but I couldn’t go through with it’, he admits, guilt flooding his belly. 

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’ she says dryly, rolling her eyes. 

‘Yes - no - I don’t know.’, he answers. ‘Look doll - I know I’ve been an asshole, I know I’ve hurt ya badly, but I know you still love me - you know your face gives ya away when you lie’, he adds, when she opens her mouth to contradict him, and she closes it in defeat. ‘Otherwise you won't be wearing my jacket when you sleep, neither would you keep my ring clean. And if ya love me, don’t ya think you should give me another chance?’

Her face twists in anguish, and there’s a rush of shame in his chest that he tells himself to ignore, reaching forward instead to cup her cold face with his hands. She winces at first, almost as if his touch is scalding, white hot with heat, but soon surrenders when she realises his grip on her is unwavering, lifting her gaze to meet his. 

‘You can’t do this to me, ‘Tsumu’, she says, her voice brittle, echoing with an aching sadness that tears a hole into his already gaping heart. 'You can’t leave as and when you feel like it and return when it suits you – that’s not how marriage or fatherhood works. And it’s not fair for you to try to guilt me into taking you back. Why should I give you another chance only to end up being hurt again? I'm only human, and there’s only so much my heart can take'.

It’s only then that it hits him that while she may have transformed herself in his absence into a woman of iron and steel, her heart is still made of glass, and a single careless touch might shatter her into fragments across the floor. And he knows he shouldn’t strike her any further with his words, but he’s a selfish fool of a man - always has been, always will be - so he pretends he does not see her pain  (looks deliberately away from the fissures in her heart that might cause her to fall apart) and continues to press hard. 

‘Please - just trust me enough not to hurt ya, I just need one more chance. Tell me ya still love me - even now.’ 

‘I do, oh gods, I do, ‘Tsumu-  ’ she gasps, almost as if she’s drowning in a whirlpool of his selfishness, her breath tipping over into a broken sob - ‘I love you, but our marriage is over - it was over the minute you put yourself before Shino and I, and left us behind to fend for ourselves.’

He shakes his head, desperately flailing against the death knell in her words - because it can’t be over, he refuses to accept it’s over, what does she mean it’s over - but he stills when she chokes back her tears to smile, lifting her hand to meet his. 

‘I’ve already paid you with my heart, ‘Tsumu - don’t you think I deserve to be free?’

Her words swirl in his mind as he makes his way back to Osamu’s flat. 

‘Things didn’t go so well, I take it?’ Osamu asks as he lurches through the door with overcast eyes. 

He inhales slowly through his nose. ‘Nope’, he admits, exhaling in defeat. ‘She isn’t prepared to take me back.’ 

Osamu pulls out a chair at the kitchen table and waves him to take a seat, sliding a plate of reheated curry rice under his nose when he does. ‘Eat up’, he says, not unkindly, and Atsumu does, even though the smell makes his head spin and every swallow of food lodges itself painfully in his stomach. 

‘Go on, say what’s on yer mind’, Atsumu says, knowing his brother too well to see through his posture of nonchalance. ‘I know you’re gonna tell me ‘ I told you so ’ and mock me with some insult intended to make me feel worse than I already am’. 

‘I’m not going to gloat, if that’s what you mean’, Osamu says mildly. ‘All I can say is that the heart is a funny, fickle thing, and sometimes it hungers for things it knows will only bring pain. But I think ya know you’ve reached a point where you need to consider whether you can live with yourself for constantly causing her pain.’ 

Atsumu stays silent, fingers tracing absently over the outline of the wedding ring in his pocket. He wonders if he’s imagining the coolness from the metal seeping into his skin.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okayyyy chappy seven 🤩 Here we goooo 🥳

Lord, Katniss always had nightmares 😭 even before the games, between her father’s death, her mother’s abandonment and the other traumatizing things she saw in her life, my girl never slept peacefully a day in her life 🥺.

She even indicates that she sometimes has nightmares about past hunger games 😭😭😭. Someone protect my smol child. Please. Someone.... Someone? Anyone? No? Okay 🥺

“I bolt up screaming for my father to run as the mine explodes into a million deadly bits of light.” This is such a powerful image and it really does show that Katniss has literally envisioned all the gory details of her father’s death for the last four years. This is so sad 😞

Also though. Katniss really doesn’t talk much about her father’s death after the first book and definitely doesn’t describe nightmares about it. So .... like basically, the games traumatized her so badly that, her father failing to escape the mines as the collapsed in on him, crushing him into the pits of despair, the possibility of rescuing his corpse deemed unimaginable, pales in comparison? Yes I just tried and failed to phrase that long run on sentence the way Katniss phrases her nightmares about her dad dying, yes that was over the top but you know what? So. Is. Katniss.

“Dawn is breaking through the windows” Twilight reference 😬😬😬. I couldn’t stop myself, y’all. Forgive for please.

“The Capitol has a misty, haunted air.” Katniss, you’re from the butthole of Kentucky, the air you’re used to is probably humid as all get out 😓😓💦😅😅

“I must have bitten into the side of my cheek in the night. My tongue probes the ragged flesh and I taste blood.” 😒😒😒😒 this feeling ..... is .... v v v .... distinct .... and .... familiar 😕🙁☹️

“I end up hopping from foot to foot as alternating jets of icy cold and steaming hot water assault me.” Why is this so funny omg 😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂😂😅😅😅😅😅 Katniss is just like pressing buttons like, “Ah! Too cold! 🥶 Ah! Too hot! 🥵 Ah!!!!!” All while jumping like a .... cat 🐱🥁

Lemon foam? 🍋 Whatever. I guess there’s weirder flavors of soap we have today but like where’s the Philosophy flavors that give recipes on the bottles??? Surely they’d survive an apocalypse??? Everyone uses those???

I’m so glad Katniss didn’t forget to moisturize, even as she prepares for a death match 😅😅😅😅 even if it’s just as simple as pressing a single button, why is she even taking the time to press it?

I know, I know. She just wants to make sure her skin is so smooth for the arena that the knives and arrows just slide right off 🤣🤣🤣🤣

“This is the first time since the morning of the reaping that I resemble myself.” Lolololol which means Mr. Romantic is gonna be even more turned on by the sight of ya, since he’s crushed on you looking like this for the last decade of his life 🥳😎🤗💁🏼‍♀️. Peeta ain’t even here yet and I’m already making the shipper comments Samantha calm down 🙄😶😑🤐🤐🤐🤐🤐🤐

Seriously there where is Peeta? Did he also have to figure out the temperature controls in the shower? Did he also moisturize? I miss him I wanna know about his morning too 😔. Katty, is it too much to ask for you to go take a lil ... sneak peek into his room for me? 😏😏😏

Twenty dishes seems like a lot for like four people eating? Eh, maybe six people, if we count the stylists who magically pick and choose when they’re coming to a meal... Hmm, I’ll calculate just so no one else has to. 🤓😬🤗 No one else cares, Samantha. 🤐🥱😴😶 Twenty dishes amounts out to about five plates without the stylists and three and a half-ish with so.... idk it’s not that much food I guess but it seems like a lot for one meal, esp if people in the Capitol intend to keep their trim figures. This is why that one prep team girl is chubby. 🤐🤐🤐

Awww Katniss copying Peeta’s weird lil eating quirks 🤗😎🥳. She’s already taking interest in him, she just don’t realize it yet 💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️ shipper comment alert 🚨🚨

But also has anyone actually tried dipping bread on hot chocolate and was it good or does it taste as repulsive as it sounds to me? I hate it when my food even so much as dares to touch though 🤢😡😤😓

Oooo I always forget Prim has to be utilizing her goat, milking the thing every day until it’s dry I’m not a farmer idk how milking animals works ... so she contributes more than I give her credit I suppose.... I’m making an effort for you, Primmers. You seem useless and immature but I’m trying. 😪😶 Taylor Swift voice 🎶 *this is me trying* 🎶

Oh wow it was only two mornings ago? Man. The first book is slow moving. 😅😭 six chapters in and we’ve gotten through one point five days 🤣

“It makes me irritated that Peeta is wearing exactly the same outfit I am.” “Listen, Peeta, one of us has to change, this is getting embarrassing, you have to stop borrowing my clothes!”

“This twins act is going to blow up in out faces once the Games begin.” Ahhaahahahaha blow up 💥 💣 🔥. Get it, get it. 🥁 Because she represents fire. And she also blows things up in Every. Single. Book.

But seriously, did Cinna and Portia and Haymitch all plan on presenting Katniss and Peeta are like, tight friends or whatever, and then Peeta is like “oh b-tee-dubs, I have a massive crush on K-dog” and they just decided it perfectly fit into their plans?

I’m so jealous that their breakfast has bread baskets 😩😩😩 I know they’re headed to the slaughter but still. Bread.

if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now." "Why would you coach us separately?" In case one of you ... not naming names .... Peeta .... wants to reveal your lifelong crush on live television 😎😎😎

Also Haymitch is like “make an important decision but take zero time to consider it, I’m tired and hungover, kids, idc for your drama 😒”

Which as an auntie to a wonderful little two year old ... is v relatable 😅🥲🙃🤭

“And I already know what yours is, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels." I wanna make a dirty joke here so badly but the lord himself is saying no.

“Town families usually eat expensive butcher meat. Beef and chicken and horse.” Ohhh this is interesting. Katniss believing Peeta and the other merchants live high on the hog while Peeta is later is like “I eat expired bread for every meal, Katniss” I mean, better than starving like her, but also not how she’s painting the picture in her mind. 😶😭

Also Katniss never mentions horses in Twelve, where’s the butcher getting horses from to slaughter and sell? That’s why Katniss never sees them, Samantha, duh 🙄

“I can't do anything. Unless you count baking bread.” "Sorry, I don't.” This was such a quick and matter of fact brush off, poor Peeta 😭😭😭 my baby I’m still rooting for you don’t worry you got this

Also. Lowkey, highkey, that tiny exchange triggered me. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭. Those awkward moments where people brush me off or glance over me live in my head. Rent free. For life.

I wonder sometimes often times if Katniss’ father and Gale’s father knew each other? Both hunted and worked in the mines. Just a random sidebar 😅🤭🤐🙃

“She’s excellent” He’s so proud of his wife 🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧

So uh.... is it safe to say Mr. Mellark is an Everlark fan? If he likes and admires Katniss and Peeta and him apparently have some kind of close-ish bond (okay, maybe not but maybe) then perhaps he is carrying the shipper banner back in Twelve for them 🥳🥳😎😎

Katniss, you dingaling, of course he noticed you 🙄🙄🙄

Peeta compliments her and her instant reaction is “what are you doing, weirdo?” 😅😭

“Don’t underrate yourself” Peeta, love of my life, take your own advise. Stupid. 😪😪😪

“I've seen you in the market. You can lift hundred-pound bags of flour” Katniss in the market, staring across the way at Peeta, 👁👄👁, watching him lift flour over his shoulder.

“He came in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother." This is criminally undiscussed. Peeta being a wrestler alone is undiscussed but also.... did you go to his matches, Katniss? Miss Anti-Social, Hunting-First-Everything-Else-Later? 😏😏😏 If this ain’t proof of her lil crush idk what is

“All you need is to come up with a knife, and you'll at least stand a chance.” “You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows.” Does no one else realize that Katniss and Peeta literally took the other’s advise for the first part of the games? How did Peeta get in with the Careers? The way she just said. Where is Katniss when Peeta and the Careers discover her? High up in a tree. Okay, this maybe didn’t compute right but I had a thought here so I said it

Peeta’s mother is just a monster. Who says that crap? 😔😔😔 don’t worry, baby, I’m rooting for you

“She said, 'She's a survivor, that one.' She is” Yeah, she is, no thanks to you, Mrs. Mellark 😤. Stingy ho.

Peeta’s got pain in his eyes 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Awww, Katniss accrediting her survival to Peeta’s help 😭😭😭😭. This is so pure. Also kiss now, you little freaks.

“She has no idea. The effect she can have.” This is such an iconic line... but the can has always had me laughing. She can have an effect, if she really wants to. Or not, depending on the day.

Katniss is so stupid, how did she construe that as an insult??? 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️ y’all ever just wanna smack her into a wall?

“In public, I want you by each other's side every minute” If Peeta didn’t have a long life crush, what was the ultimate plan with all this friendship act they’re being forced into? 🤔🤔🤔

Even Peeta’s trying to object to it 😭😭😭😭

“You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other.” You will fall in love. 🤩🥳😎

“I bite my lip and stalk back to my room, making sure Peeta can hear the door slam.” Okay, now imagine how much she’s hurting his feelings right now 😖😣 what a little brat

“But that didn't mean I wanted to do everything with Peeta. Who, by the way, clearly doesn't want to be partnering up with me, either.” Lolololololololol this is so funny in hindsight 🤣🤣🤣. Also if you showed a little enthusiasm, Peeta would probably be happy to partner with you.

“But a tiny part of me wonders if this was a compliment. That he meant I was appealing in some way.” No, really, Katniss? A compliment? Who’d give you one of those? 🙄🙄🙄

“It's weird, how much he's noticed me. Like the attention he's paid to my hunting.” A normal person at this point would put together a crush 😅

“And apparently, I have not been as oblivious to him as I imagined, either. [...] I have kept track of the boy with the bread.” Anddd a normal person would figure out their own crush at this point 😅😅.

“I do a quick assessment. Peeta and I are the only two dressed alike.” We stan a matching couple in this house 😎😏

“Almost all of the boys and at least half of the girls are bigger than I am” That means 18 out of 24 tributes tower over my girl here. Smol Katniss. The movies did such erasure on this front I’m still bitter 🤐😒😤😩

“I may be smaller naturally, but overall my family's resourcefulness has given me an edge in that area.” Just a tiny muscular thing standing next to a bunch of tall, lanky kids. 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Awww “Each [Career tribute] must have fifty to a hundred pounds on me.” I mean ... let’s calculate. A muscular girl would probably weigh like 150 pounds... so basically Katniss is at most, 100 pounds. Tiny Katty.

“I'm thinking that it's lucky I'm a fast runner when Peeta nudges my arm and I jump.” This is a random, cute interaction 😍😍😍. Shipper blinders are on and tight.

“Suppose we tie some knots.” “Right you are.” I legitimately just scratched my face, who says right you are? An 87 year old man, that’s who 😅😅😅. Not turning your girl on very well, Peeta baby.

Although it does sound a bit like a backwoods southern thing soooo.... hillbilly Everlark nation rise. 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️

“We concentrate on this one skill for an hour until both of us have mastered it.” Awww, so Peeta knows how to tie a snare? He’s not as clueless as half the fandom acts.

How exactly is frosting cakes equating to amazing camouflager in a death match? Books crack me up with these connections. “I’m an amazing artist because I write birthday cards!”

Lolololol Prim admiring her future brother-in-law’s handiwork 🥰🥰🥰🥰 too bad she dies before they can get together for real for real.

“Somehow the whole thing - his skill, those inaccessible cakes, the praise of the camouflage expert - annoys me.” Dude, you get praised by everyone and their brother while Peeta gets overlooked, give him a moment to shine. 😑🙄 jealous wife much?

Also she’s already picking up on Peeta’s eye for beauty 😅😅😅

“It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death.” "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you'll find in the arena. Say it's actually a gigantic cake-“ "Say we move on.” She’s such a little snot. 😒😒😒

But also I love that already in this point of their relationship, Peeta is noticing when she’s being a brat 😭😂😅. “Don’t be so superior.”

“Despite Haymitch's order to appear mediocre, Peeta excels in hand-to-hand combat, and I sweep the edible plants test without blinking an eye.” Lolololol their mentor’s advise went into one ear and right out the other 😂😅🤣.

But also why did the movie make a point in adding an extra scene of Peeta looking weak and the Careers staring at him? That literally took up time and served no purpose at all. 😤😤😤 I’m coming for you, Gary Ross

Awww, everyone but the careers eat alone. But Katniss and Peeta eat together 🥺🥺🥺. It’s like a forced first date 🥳🥳🥳

I like how Katniss says they include bread from every district but she then proceeds to only mention the two districts that later have relevant tributes. 😅😅😅

Lolololol their fake friendship “laugh ... now! Okay, I’ll smile, try to say something interesting”

“Ever since I slammed my door, there's been a chill in the air between us.” Well yeah, you probably hurt his feelings 🥺🥺🥺

Umm, Katniss just casually drops that she was chased by a bear.... how did homegirl live? 😬😳

Peeta knowing Rue’s name and being the one to take notice of her first 🥺🥺🥺. If the games had come down to Katniss, Peeta and Rue, y’all know Everlark would have swallowed the berries and gotten Rue home. 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“Don't. Don't let's pretend when there's no one around.” "All right, Katniss.” He made a single comment to you, ding dong. He didn’t ask for a goodnight kiss 🙄🙄🙄.

Also anyone ever think of how lonely Peeta’s life must be? He’s not close to his family that we can see, Delly’s his only real friend, after he wins he lives in that huge house all alone... I feel sad now. I did this to myself. 😬😭🥺

Katniss’ “Oh! The weapons!” When she sees the bows and arrows is so cute 🥰🥰🥰

Katniss has such a rage built up inside of her. Let it out, girlfriend

See, I’d have done this too but in my rage, I’d probably have shot a real person and not the pig ... goodbye, Plutarch 👋🏻

Andddd I think that’s all for this chapter! Sorry my comments weren’t as interesting as usual 😬.

[amethystpath-writes]

Okay so this isn’t my original idea but remember that one post where it was like one soulmate is killing their other soulmate to stay immortal but their soulmate keeps on being reborn or just doesn’t stay dead for long??

If that’s too confusing basically can you do a continuation of your own prompt there the villain is the immortal, not the hero. (Prompt 41?44? I don’t remember oops)

I don't think I know that post, but if you still want me to write it and you can find it, feel free to send another ask! For now, I'll just fill the prompt!

******

“But- but I killed you.” Hero swore he couldn’t breathe. Villain wasn’t supposed to be in front of him right now. He- he was supposed to be in the morgue or wherever they kept and processed dead bodies. He was supposed to be dead. This had to be some kind of trick. Maybe there was a part of Hero’s mind that felt guilty for killing Villain, and now he was hallucinating. “I watched you die. I- I checked your pulse. You’re dead.”

Villain huffed and rolled his eyes. “Why is this always such a surprise to everyone?” He took two steps forward, watching with boredom as Hero flinched back, shielding his eyes. “You need me to pinch you? Convince you I’m right in front of you?”

“Not real,” Hero muttered. “Not real, not real, not. real. It’s in my head. It’s just in my head.”

Tossing his head back, Villain sighed. “Most of your little crew in the past at least tried to swing at me, finish the job. Some of them actually achieved killing me for a second time. I was impressed! Much more exciting than what you’re doing right now.” Hero kept muttering. Villain asked, “You really think you’re imagining me still? What’s it gonna take? Do I need to jab you in the gut? Would that help?”

Maybe I’d deserve that, Hero thought, continuing to consider the concept of guilt. What Hero was really curious about right now was, How is this so real? He acknowledged it was all fake, but he didn’t think his brain was capable of creating such a realistic version of Villain. The look, the voice, the condescending tone, everything was drawn up to a T. It shouldn’t have been possible, especially after a whole week of Villain’s death.

“Alright, this is getting old. I want to try something new since I haven’t had this reaction before. You really shouldn’t be a hero if you go into shock this easily.”

The image in front of Hero was moving closer. Villain was pulling something out from behind him. Hero already knew what it would be; Villain always kept handheld weapons back there in case his powers- whatever those were, Hero never knew- were unsuccessful. Usually it was throwing knives. This time it- Hero swallowed.

“You remember this. Good.” Villain nodded. “I figured you would, given how you stabbed me with it- rude.”

Now Hero had the sense to stand from his seated and shaking position. As a change, he was now in a standing and shaking position. This was becoming real to him- too real.

“Okay. What I’m thinking is that I clean this blade- a very pretty one by the way; love the chromatic look…I’m going to go over to that sink, and I’m going to clean this.” Villain made his way to Hero’s kitchen, turning on the sink like he said he would. He began scrubbing with the pad of his thumb. “I have two reasons for this: one, there are other victims’ blood on it now- from the morgue; they were about to cremate me if you can believe it. Props to you; that was my first time ever being in one of those places. And, two, because I want this to play out for you as it did for me- it was clean before you stabbed me with it; it should be clean before I stab you with it.” Villain turned with the blade now clear of any blood.

Hero couldn’t move, but he didn’t need to, did he? Because this was all his imagination, all his guilty conscious. Nothing else.

“You aren’t going to do anything to protect yourself,” Villain observed aloud. “You’re just going to stand there shaking like a rotting leaf stuck in a tree during October. Fine, then. Might as well take this to my advantage.”

**

Unable to move or think for himself, Hero was easily taken by Villain. All the while, Hero continued to believe this was a hallucination. Villain absolutely could not be alive because that meant- that meant he could…No. Villain can’t- can’t come back to life.

Hero knew for a fact he killed Villain. When he bled out, Hero listened to the silence of his opponent’s chest, watched its stillness. He. Was. Dead. It was that solidity in Hero’s mind that made him deny the obvious fact in front of him. Because it was impossible to become…undead. It just wasn’t possible. And since it was impossible, the person standing in front of Hero, talking to someone or something else in the room was fake- was a ghost in Hero’s head.

“-tired of this game. It’s becoming boring, but I found some entertainment for myself, and I think it can become a lesson to you. See…”

A red light was in front of Hero’s face. He looked, blinking slowly, beyond the red light to Villain. Hero didn’t quite understand where he was, or what his mind was conjuring up at the moment. He felt so tired because of his current insanity, and so it didn’t matter much what his location was.

“I think this can serve as a lesson to you- not that I care to help you, but it gives me an excuse to torture a poor soul.”

Hero blinked again. The red light belonged to a camera, he realized. Villain- or Ghost Villain- was recording him and talking to whoever was watching on the camera. In all reality, Hero figured it was he who was recording himself. Maybe he was even talking- he didn’t know. He was likely telling his base leader about how he was losing his mind and thought he was in a cellar-like room with Villain.

“I’m going to screw this back on the tripod, and then, I’ll show you what happens when you guys keep sending your men to kill me. It doesn’t work, alright? And I’m tired of dying.”

The chromatic knife was lowered in front of Hero’s eyes. He didn’t startle at it, but, as it was lowered out of his vision and Villain’s amused grin replaced it, he felt worry. Worry turned to searing pain in Hero’s leg and he let out a blood-curdling scream, grasping at the cold ground, fingers curling into fists that grasped onto nothing. The same pain magnified again as the knife came into sight once again- this time half coloured with red.

It’s real, it dawned on Hero as he finally looked down to find a hole in his leg. “A-augh!” It was throbbing and he swore he could feel his blood pulsing out of the wound. His stomach twisted with his pain and he turned to his right as to not throw up on himself.

What made the pain in Hero’s leg worse was the fact that his muscles were clenched. He couldn’t relax them no matter how hard he tried and that only meant the throb was everlasting.

The knife made its strike again- this time down the arm opposite of Hero’s now-injured leg. He hollered again, writhing and crying in anguish. “Stop! Stop it!” Quieter, he repeated to himself, “It hurts. It hurts, it hurts.”

For once his body protested as he eyed Villain in front of him. His good leg twitched like it was ready to assist in springing on and tackling Villain to the ground. But the controlled side of Hero’s mind told him it’d only make him hurt worse. Not to mention, he might land on the blade and therefore kill himself. Wait. “You’re- you’re going t-to kill…kill me.”

Villain paused, tilting his head almost curiously at Hero. “That was the plan originally, but then you fell to cowardice, and that was boring.” As he spoke, Hero could feel his limbs jumping, spasming. “So, now we’re doing something else. Kinda like it, actually. Centuries have gone by, and I never actually took my time with any of you. For once, I am seeing the true and utter fear I felt when I died for my first time.” Villain continued, “I could have been such a great person, you know? I would have been a perfect good guy, unable to die and all. But instead of seeing that vision, I was seen as a threat to humanity. They began hunting me, trying to figure out how to put me down for good. I decided to fit their little role, though.”

What Villain did and said next shocked Hero. “Go on, try it.” Villain held the blade handle out to Hero on the ground. “Take it. I’ll let you kill me again, and then you can leave.”

“You’re lying. That’s- that’s a stupid th-thing to- to offer. Why would you l-let me kuh-kill you, then let- let me go?”

Villain shrugged. “Something new. I want to live something different this time. I told you many times that few have killed me twice- and the ones who did it were killed as soon as I could find them. I want to see how far you can go if I give you a month’s head start.”

“You- you want to hunt me.”

“I do. Seeing as you did it to me, I think it’s fair.” He jutted the handle out to Hero again as an offer. When Hero took it, Villain said, “I know I took out your dominant arm out, but- well, I have confidence you’ll do just fine if it means you get to kill me again.” Villain tapped at his chest, right where his heart was located. “Go on. I know you want to.”

Hero considered this for a moment, staring at the knife- at the knife with his blood on it now instead of Villain’s. Did he ever question why his organization was going after Villain? Not really. He just knew Villain murdered every single man Leader sent out. Maybe it was self-defence, in which case Hero shouldn’t have been going after Villain like he was, shouldn’t have killed him like he already did once and was being given the opportunity to once again.

But now was different. Now, Villain really was sadistic- assuming he wasn’t before. Villain, if he was any sort of a healthy and sane man, would have had Hero jailed for trying, and succeeding, in killing him. Or, if he was afraid of the authorities taking him in for being- ahem- unkillable, then he would have only kept Hero locked up. Villain wouldn’t have had Hero in a cellar room, stabbing and slashing at him while a camera recorded it all. If Villain ever was good, that morality was stripped from him now, and that meant Hero needed to take this chance at life. Maybe he could go back to his base and demand answers. Because based off what Villain told, they knew he was immortal, and they never told Hero- or Hero’s previous teammates, who were now ‘mysteriously’ dead.

Without another word, or even a warning glance, Hero weighed the knife in his left hand, gripped the handle, and slashed at Villain’s throat. As he laid dying, Hero searched for the key on Villain’s person, and left.

[jj-5656]

🎄Fa-la-la-late🎄 With; Diego Hargreeves

A/N:Ummmm...hello? First off, thank you all so much for the love on my last couple imagines. Sorry for the hiatus, what can I say junior year is as hard as they say it is. Anyway, I was supposed to be sleeping last night but I was writing this instead. Leave it to me to become inspired at the worst times. This is for everyone celebrating a holiday this year without your family because of the pandemic (which is still a thing btw.) Also, this is very long but I love it. Okay enough talking, enjoy!

TW: None except...Well, Klaus is Klaus. And more random POV change bc I can!

He’s running, sprinting really, brown bag tucked haphazardly under his arm as it’s contents jostle around inside with his movements. Filled with last minute groceries for the evenings event. Never in Diego Hargreeves’ life had he thought he’d be rushing home in preparations for a Christmas party, in a red sweater for that matter. But what can he say, a year into his relationship with her and he’s officially whipped. Ever since the two of you met you had introduced him to an enormity of things he’d never considered important. Whether it be birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, you’ve added so much more to him that he could never really repay you for. So, he figures making a very last minute trip to the ever so crowded grocery store on Christmas Eve is worth it. Having to deal with other crazed and unprepared city people for three types of cheeses, four types of crackers, and a particularly expensive bottle of wine.

Apparently a Christmas party, or any get together for that matter, is simply incomplete without an assortment of appetizers. Right, Diego Hargreeves hosting a Christmas party for his siblings. The same ones who only learned about holidays in their World Culture textbooks during hours sectioned off on their daily regimen instead of actually celebrating them. The biting cold reminds him of the lonely Christmas’ throughout his life, which was at the time any other day of the year to him. He snaps out of the dark thoughts when he realizes he’s made it up the stairs and to the front door, a chorus of clanging pots and curses coming from inside.

He fumbles through the door, reminding himself he’s supposed to be rushing, but the beautifully decorated apartment distracts him from the task at hand. The warm feeling he’s still getting used to fluttering through his stomach as he recalls when you first surprised him with the holiday decor.

“It’s not too much, right? I know you never really celebrated Christmas, and neither of us are religious but my family always made the holidays a big deal and I thought-”

“You did all this?” His brown eyes are wide, gazing up at the assortment of twinkling lights aligning the interior of your shared home, a beautiful tree full of red and green ornaments in the middle of your living room. It’s stunning, to say the least, and Diego’s sure he’s never felt so much at home as he does now.

You’re gazing up at him, eyes nervously darting between your boyfriend and the assortment of ornaments. He walks forward from the entryway to admire the garland above the fireplace and the evergreen that just barely scruffs the top of the ceiling. It’s all new to him, and a bit overwhelming, and suddenly Diego realizes the resentment he’s held toward the holiday ever since he was a child was completely misguided. Because the joy he feels now, the warmth tingling throughout his body is foreign but so comforting.

“You hate it, don’t you? Listen, I just thought maybe I’d try and show you Christmas isn’t all about consumerism and selling shitty-”

“It’s beautiful.” He interrupts again, and you swear there’s a moisture begging to leave his eyes as he finally looks to you with an awed expression.

“I don’t, I’ve never...I always hated Christmas. I guess because I never had a real family as a kid. But this, this is j-just...Thank you.”

*End Flashback*

“You’re late!” You shout as the front door bursts open, a familiar thud of boots kicking snow off their bottoms and then walking towards the kitchen. Diego walks in with hands full with groceries, hair wet and messy with flurries of snow littering the raven strands. You narrow your eyes at the sight of him, dopey smile on his face as he sets the bags down on the counter.

“What’s gotten into you? I thought you’d still be grumpy at the fact that we’re hosting.” You’re less than presentable at the moment, having been cooking all day and leaving getting yourself ready for last minute. You puff a stray hair out of your face as he responds.

“Nothing, and actually I am still upset that my siblings are coming over.” He leans against the counter as you unpack the groceries, eager to finish up so you can look a little less crazy when the remaining Hargreeves arrive. Diego is still staring at you, grinning fondly at how flustered you look. And although he’d rather not have you meet his brothers and sister, you deserve to know why he’s keeping you from meeting. After all, it’s been a year since you’ve been together, and he’s met your family already.

It’s different though, because although they too have their issues, your family isn’t a dysfunctional pack of emotionally-stunted freaks. He’d much rather protect you from their intrusive antics. The warm feeling fades as he realizes what’s to come. He appreciates your optimism, truly, but he suddenly can’t shake the feeling that they’ll manage to upset you and ultimately screw up what you’ve been preparing for all day.

“A little help please?” You ground him once more, gesturing to the bags beside the both of you and the assortment of trays of food on the counters. Diego grabs onto your sides when you try to brush past him to check on the turkey, ignoring your incredulous look as he presses his body against yours.

“There’s still time to call this all off, you know. We can watch all the cheesy Christmas movies you want, and have dinner all to ourselves.” His eyes are hopefully looking into yours, the persuasion in his tone hinting a part of him isn’t really joking.

“Absolutely not. Di, we’ve been together for a year now. I want to get to know your siblings. Besides, you met my family and they loved you!”

“That’s different y/n, you’re family is...Well, they’re not like mine! You guys are normal! My brother is a moon-obsessed, half monkey moron and my sister is a mind-controlling movie star.” You can’t help but giggle at his words even though his frustration is adamant. He backs away from your embrace and runs his a hand through his hair in an effort to calm himself down. The sudden thought of one of them being too pushy or making you upset is overwhelming him now. If it’s one thing he’d like to keep you from, it’s the bad side of him his siblings tend to bring out.

“Diego.” Your voice is soft now, you’re using that love-laced tone that always makes him feel like he’s melting. He shivers as you get closer to him, still somehow getting used to the effect you have on him. And although you don’t notice, you seem to be aware you’re calming him down. “I’m scared too, I don’t want to mess something up or embarrass myself in front of them. Hell, your little-or...Older brother is a time traveling assassin who’s kind of a genius. It’s intimidating definitely, but they’re your family Di. I know you hate to admit it, but they’ve played a huge role in who you are. And even if a lot of times you resent each other, it’s clear you love them.”

He’s gotta admit, you’ve always had a way with words. “Fine, what can I do to help beautiful?”

“you can start with setting the table so I can get ready and actually look beautiful. And use the good China!” You plant a quick kiss to his cheek before rushing off to the bedroom, silently praying the anxious won’t drop a plate or two in the process.

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

“Baby, does red or white wine go with tur-woah.” You’re doing some finishing touches on your makeup when Diego walks in, honey brown eyes shamelessly looking over your figure with a smirk as he now leans against the door frame.

You roll you eyes at his ogling, but can’t help smoothing down the silky olive green fabric of the dress your wearing with a pleased smile. Gold jewelry adorns your neck and ears, with matching gold heels to bring the look together. The red of his sweater (he so stubbornly obliged to wearing) compliments the green you're wearing beautifully. A year ago, Diego wonders just how much it would take him to put on anything other than black.

“Cmon, they’ll be here any minute.”

As if I’m cue, the doorbell of the apartment rings. You rush to the front door, Diego trailing behind as he reminds himself how important the evening is to you.

“And remember, no knives.” You whisper to him, turning back around and opening the door.

“Fröhliche Weihnachten!” Klaus pushes through the entryway excitedly, tackling you in a hug in greeting. Luckily, you’ve already met the most eccentric sibling of the bunch. As he often crashes at your place, much to Diego’s disliking (or so he says).

“My my my, that dress is to die for! I’ll be borrowing that soon. And those heels! Please tell me we’re the same siz-”

“Alright bonehead, you can steal her stuff later. Take yourself and the booze to the kitchen.” Diego interrupts, shrugging when you slap his shoulder at his bluntness.

Greeting the rest of the family goes better than expected. Allison and Luther arrived together (an innocent carpool of course) whilst Vanya had come just a few minutes after Klaus, happy to see she wasn’t the first to arrive. She brought along with her a homemade dish, Allison with a top notch bottle of champagne, and Five with a box of Griddy’s  donuts and...Coffee? His odd choice of food making the perfect ice breaker, to his confusion of course. 

“Alright, enough small talk. Diego, how much are you paying this lovely lady to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Klaus interjects your conversation about current events as the rest of the table looks to the pair of you and laughs. 

“Seriously, Allison couldn’t even rumor someone to be this good of a cook,” Luther chimes in. Not having looked up from his plate for a majority of the meal.

Although slightly offended, Diego realizes his siblings have a valid point. You’re blushing crimson as you laugh along, shaking your head and nervously rambling on about when you just last week almost burnt the apartment down trying to perfect said recipes. He’s entranced as you speak, admiring the way you seem to capture all of them with unknown ease. Unknown, truly, because you’re still too modest to see how perfect you are. He doesn’t deserve you, but he’ll spend every day trying to even out the impossible score. It's known he can be quite the competitor. 

“I’m just shocked he’s out of black for once.”

“Says the 45 year old in a school uniform!”

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

“Alright, I’ll clear up dinner so we can start dessert.” Y/n announces, just in time to halt a three-way argument between her boyfriend, Luther and Five about some Academy mission from when they were kids. The evening has been lighthearted for the most part, with a majority of the conflict being steered off by Allison or Vanya. The two practically experts at distracting their egotistical brothers. You catch on as they do so, the three of you having shared a few sly smirks between one another a few times throughout the meal. 

“Please y/n, let me. You’ve done more than enough tonight. Besides, I need someone to test out that wine for me.” Allison assures, kicking Diego’s shin and motioning to the kitchen when you’ve given her an appreciative smile and inquired Vanya on her violin skills. 

Allison’s knife wielding brother shoots her a look of shock at her actions, trailing along confusedly after her. Your empty plate and his own in hand as he sets them down in the sink. 

“What the hell? Why-where-you-hiding-her-from-us!) The curly haired woman emphasizes each word with a smack of a stray dish towel to his arm, sure nobody can hear them over Klaus’ obnoxious storytelling back in the dining room. 

“Quit it! I wasn’t hiding her I-I was protecting her from you shitheads.” Diego defends, once again bewildered by his sister’s playful outburst. 

“Diego! She’s amazing, you should’ve introduced us forever ago.” 

“Right, she’s amazing. What do you not get by the word protecting? If you all had met her any sooner you would have scared her off!” He flails his arms as he speaks, unaware of his flushed cheeks as his sister smiles fondly at him. 

“What now Allison?”

“You loooveee her.” She poke his side as she teases, chuckling again when he swats her arm away. The scene is childish, but something about the heat rising through his neck to the tips of his ears makes Diego feel like a kid again. Allison teasing him about girls, just as they had when they were young. 

“Wh-whatever. Yeah, I love her. Can we go back to the table now, or should we paint our nails and giggle about how totes adorbs Luther Looks in that coat?” They both laugh at his mocking, leaving the room and too giddy to remember the discarded plates left behind. 

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

“An espresso machine? Wow, Columbia-brewed K-cups too! You shouldn’t have y/n.” Five is beaming at the gift in hand, wrapping paper still hanging off the side of the box as he admires the machine. His siblings stare confusedly at his jolly demeanor, and he immediately clears his throat before giving said girl a curt nod. “Thanks.” He deadpans, and you laugh with a nod at his change in demeanor. 

Luther and Allison have already opened their gifts, the burly man pointing to his miniature moon replica and lecturing about the craters and valleys to an extremely bored Klaus. Allison has already put on the elegant gold charm bracelet you’ve given her, rolling charm with Claire’s initials and birthstone on it with glossy eyes. Beside her, Vanya delicately peels the wrapping off to a freshly polished violin case, her name inscribed in cursive on the top. 

“It’s beautiful. I-I’m so sorry we didn’t get you anything. If I had known-”

“Nonsense V, I’m just glad you could all make it tonight.” You reassure with genuine smile, glad to see her positive response to the nickname. 

“I still can’t believe you got them gifts.” Diego mumbles from behind you, having climbed over the back of the couch you’re all sat on to have you sit between his legs. He kisses your temple and wraps his arms around your middle, softly humming when yo lean into him. The fireplace is crackling, and the record payer you love dearly quietly plays a Perry Como Christmas album. You close your eyes, taking in the warm feeling and relaxing in Diego’s touch. The two of you jumping when a shout comes from beside you.

“My turn! My turn!” Klaus claps loudly to grab your attention. You chuckle at his childish ways, leaning down to pick up the wrapped present at your feet and handing it off to him. Unlike the others, he eagerly rips apart the wrapping, gasping dramatically when he lifts up the skirt. 

“You’re a bit hard to shop for, there’s a gift receipt if-” The excitable man scrambles up from the floor tug on the fabric, twirling around in it in a fit of giggles before you can finish your statement. 

“Great, he’ll never take that off.” Diego mumbles in your ear, you shake your head with a smirk at his teasing before you’re reminded of something.

“Oh! And one more thing.” You note suddenly, climbing out of Diego’s hold as he huffs reluctantly. You pull a a final present from under the tree, secretly handing it to Klaus to make sure the others don’t see. Though they’re too enveloped in conversation to noticed.

“Another one for me?” He whispers happily, eyes furrowing when you shake your head. Sitting back down in Diego’s arms before you explain. 

“No, well...Yes, sort of. You’ll see.” You ramble, gesturing to the box in his hands as he apprehensively chuckles. You feel Diego’s eyes on you, deciding to place a peck on his jaw instead of elaborating. 

Klaus pulls out a pair of books, readig the well-known titles before looking up at you. You motion to the box once more, biting your nail as he sets them aside and reaches in once more. He pulls out  picture frame with a sharp intake of breathe, hand going over his mouth as he looks up at you once more. Your boyfriend, eager to see what has silenced his rowdy brother, takes the frame to inspect it. 

It’s a picture of him, Klaus, and Ben on the front steps of the academy. Having to be only five or six in the photo. Klaus has an arm around Ben, smiling big for the camera as his brother offers a smaller, but no less genuine grin to the lens. Diego sits a step above them, mouth frozen open in a laugh as he must of been reaction to something only Klaus could make him react so much at. 

“I remember Di telling me Ben read a lot. And...Well, it felt wrong to get everyone else a gift but him. Those are two of my favorit-”

“Wh-Where did you find this?” Diego whispers, arms encircled even tighter around you as he holds up the frame in shock. 

“When we were moving in. I found it at the bottom of one of the shelves at your room at the gym. It was under a bunch of old books you had, I figured it could use a frame.” Just as you finish, Klaus practically tackles you in a hug, a soft hiccup coming from him when he pulls away. 

“Geez Klaus, it’s just a skirt!” 

“Can-it Luther!”

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

“You think he’ll be alright?” You mutter from the bedroom hallway. You and Diego leaning against the wall, looking at Klaus whose passed out on the sofa. The others having left hours ago, but you simply couldn’t wake him at seeing how peaceful he was. The picture frame still tucked to his chest as he snored softly. 

“Trust me, he’s fine. I think he’ll be sleeping in that skirt every night from now on.” Diego pulls you to your bedroom door as you laugh, the exhaustion from today finally setting. 

“Hey, would you look at that? Mistletoe.” Your head trails upwards to gaze up at the fruit being dangled above your head as you grin.

“Those are grapes Di.”

“Are they? Hmm, must be from that stupid cheese board I had to run across town for.” 

“It’s a chacuterie, actually. Didn’t you learn French Hargreeves?”

“Yep, but I only seem to remember two words.”

“Oh really? And what might those be?”

“Embrasse moi” He finishes as he connects his lips with yours, holding your face as if you might slip away when he lets go. 

“Smooth, knife boy.” You pull away softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Merry Christmas Di.”

[fishmongeringstudies]

twenty eight: a wound which heals itself will only be forgotten. let things fester. start arguments you cannot win. mourn. you only have so many chances to live like this, cruel, clumsy, raw with hurt. you are only young once

life finds new ways to be hard. it does this pretty often. you'll be skipping along the path to the supermarket one morning when a text arrives from your brother telling you about how the garden back home is growing into a monstrosity of unprecedented proportions and the dog is getting old and it hits you all at once: you have been walking on a tightrope all along. you were just too busy looking at the sky to remember what lay at your feet.

this morning i wanted to get another pretzel but they didn't have any, so instead i got a bagel for seventy-eight cents and took it back to campus and up the narrow road that hugs the tennis courts and the newer dormitories until the road hiccuped a path out of its sticky red mouth. the path led into a part of the woods that i didn't recognize but after fifteen minutes of wandering over pebbles and shreds of broken glass i arrived at a small ledge jutting out over the edge of the path, upon which sat a series of uneven rock formations which stuck out even further.

a few years ago a student fell from here and died. they say it was a dark and stormy night and he was probably drunk off his ass, mistook the wet edge of a shadow for solid ground, slipped on the sound of his own laughter. whenever i'm there, and i like to think i'm there often, i peer over the edge of the rock with just my eyes while the rest of me leans back anxiously and i wonder. i am blessed with a brain which projects the meanest version of the future onto the backs of my eyelids. you could break your neck falling from a place like this. you could leave an ink stain on the page.

this morning the air was cool and dry and a chipmunk scampered up a tree a few feet away while i picked at my bagel. it was supposed to be a blueberry bagel. but it was only blue.

things disappoint you, both big and small. the friend you want to keep forever reveals a hand of knives. the bagel you buy at the supermarket isn't a blueberry bagel at all. it's plain. irritated at a thing we can't put into words, betrayed by the tender carcass of hope, all we can do is shrug and move on.

recently i've been thinking about metaphors, which is not a notable change from how i always am, which is thinking about metaphors. but recently i've been thinking about metaphors. so let's say you're a fisherman and you catch fish for a living or something, but you can only go fishing for a few months a year and for the rest of the time you have to live off of all the fish you caught while you were standing on a boat and complaining about your dog, who will not stop peeing on your wall tapestry. how much fish should you catch? the answer seems obvious. a lot. you must catch a lot of fish.

every once in a while i decide i must articulate exactly how i operate as a human being in a way that is intelligible to the world around me and then i get it completely wrong. here is this month's edition of i get things completely wrong: for a few weeks to months at a time i am able to ask people out to lunch without sincerely wanting to remove my kneecaps with a jackhammer. and then the clouds pass back over the sun. when the sun's rays vanish from the fields, when i am no longer able to get back on that fishing boat because everything scares me more than it frankly has any right to given that i am tall and mean and good at telling bad jokes well, whoever remains in my life is everyone i will have for the foreseeable future.

what i'm trying to say is i feel bad for all the people i haven't spoken to this summer, and i feel stupid for staying when i should've known, given my track record of seasonal hibernation, that i would walk backwards into hell and lose sight of the face on the wall again. but i do not tell anyone. there is no point in communicating a thing which will have, by the end of next spring, become something else entirely.

somewhere around the end of may i opened up my old countdown app and set a new countdown for 'going home'. i should have known by then that what i wanted to do was go home. but i did not. so all right, we're stupid as hell. we're young, confused people who feel the need to speak loudly at the table so that we're not forgotten and then forget that there are other people whose vocal chords are less rude and whose hearts are less cold. so yeah, we're horrible. but this morning i looked down instead of skyward for the first time in months with my bagel in my bag and my keys singing a 2000s pop song in my pocket and you know what i saw? knives. i saw knives.

06.17.21

[jzixuans]

please sir, can I have some tog fic recs?

oh SO many hold on okay (these are all gonna be on ao3)

also under the cut to spare my poor followers

i’ll lay my roots in fertile ground by itsmylifekay (13154 words)

Andy did this on purpose, she’s sure of it. No matter how many excuses about skillsets and plans and 'you’ve been working on your Arabic, it’ll be good practice, Nile'… she knows now it was all a bunch of lies. There can be no other explanation for why she has been here, stuck with Joe in the middle of a hot, Italian summer while Andy has taken Nicky to the northern most part of France. It is a unique and unexpected kind of hell.

(A series of seven stories, snapshots of the first few years of Nile's time with the team. I'm trash for Nile & Nicky & Joe dynamics so there's a lot of that in here, but the others are all part of the craziness as well.)

fluffy slice of life post movie, really funny, really soft, i love how the author built their relationships

though you are alone and not quite beyond loneliness by dialux (26238 words)

“Joe didn’t lie back in that lab,” Booker tells him gently. “I am selfish. I am a liar. But beyond everything else, Nicky, I’m a coward.”

“Really,” says Nicky, looking unimpressed.

[Booker tries to save his family from Quynh. He's rather good at it, if not a little dramatic about the entire process. In the meantime, he learns a little more about himself, his family, and the definitions of bravery, forgiveness and love.]

a study in booker! real in depth, real great long read. (warning for antagonist quỳnh)

even if we win the battle by glitter_lisp (2591 words)

"Our Nile may have missed her calling,” Nicky says with a choked, hoarse laugh. “She should have been an actor. Or a surgeon.”

Then he slumps over in Joe's arms, unconscious, and Nile drops the scalpel, spins around, and throws up on the carpet.

whump but oh so good. focus on nile + nicky after a particularly harrowing mission with some good good nile + joe. (warnings for torture, mentions of throwing up (i mean it’s in the summary), blood, and some leftover trauma)

six summers down by sharkhette (3385 words)

Nile watched the first rays of the sun come filtering through the trees, softly dappling the path in yellow and grey. "Tell me something good?" she asked. "Everything's been such a shitshow since I met you—since even before that. And now, with Booker gone, and Andy…" She swallowed and turned to Nicky, who watched her with big, soft eyes. "Just tell me something I can look forward to in all this."

nile and nicky go for a run. the consequences of immortality catch up to her. some real good nile + nicky plus bonus immortal family at the end (warning for talk of quỳnh’s drowning)

atlas by bestillmyslashyheart (1336 words)

Nile is fine until she isn't. When the weight of her actions catches up to her, she needs someone to talk to.

some more nile + nicky from that time i deep dived the tag. for when you want to imagine nicky scooping you up in a big warm hug

i found love where it wasn’t supposed to be by imadetheline (1070 words)

Nile has a nightmare. Her family is there for her. And for one another.

late night immortal family dance party. makes you feel like everything is right in the world

at the crossings of two heart lines by mayqueen517 (4239 words)

"You understand - you cannot look back until you both stand beneath the sun."

"I do not need to see my love to know he is there. He is the breath in my lungs and the beat of my heart."

"Very well." ---

A Joe/Nicky twist on the Orpheus/Eurydice myth.

if you thought hadestown made you cry, this’ll wrench you more. happy ending though!! (warnings for death (obv), so much despair and hopelessness)

this lifetime and the next by kirasometimes (6662 words)

Shortly after marrying the love of his life, Nicky dies and his husband disappears.

or: Nicky is newly immortal and Joe has no idea.

a super interesting take. it’s still living in my head two weeks later and i Really need to reread it. (warnings for death, blood, stabbings, canon typical violence i guess. lab capture)

#nickyisnotamouse (and other stories from a happy universe) by lydenicokite (6806 words)

It may be a cliché to say this (“I didn’t want to become famous, it just happened!”), but Nicolò’s youtube career started as a joke. Actually, it started with Yusuf, like all the best things in Nicky’s life.

--

Nicky is a famous Youtuber, even if most of his fans are more interested in Joe, the elusive cameraman who never appears in front of the camera but flirts with Nicky in every video, than in the actual cooking and book reviewing. #RevealTheHusband and #WhereIsJoe are trending on twitter every time Nicky uploads a new video, but Nicky still believes it's important to keep his life with Joe private. It can't be that difficult, right?

hilarious modern youtuber!nicky au with lots of great interactions between the team and also nicky’s adorable (warning for drinking)

this time with knives by arkada (3588 words)

Joe gets into trouble on a mission.

Nicky gets him back.

badass nicky with knives saves his husband. nile + nicky + joe on a mission. not as angsty as it sounds. (warning for canon typical violence, death (joes dies a good handful), lots of described stabbing and slashing, blood)

even oaks must bend by winteryknights (2631 words)

The sidestreets are dead silent compared to the bustle of downtown, letting both ease and worry simmer in Joe’s bones as they pass only occasional pedestrians on their walk to the address Copley had given them. It’s a small apartment, part of a stonework building that’s likely just as old as Booker himself and a part of Joe wonders if he’d chosen it for the familiarity. A bigger part of him finds that it still hurts to care.

Or,

Andy doesn't have ninety years, but she does have a plan.

they go get booker early. things are sorted out. nicky and joe’s pain is acknowledged and booker is held accountable

ever have i never by nilmiel (525 words)

“Never have I ever had Joe profess his undying love for me to a bunch of people trying to kill us.” Joe had run out to pick up the takeout they’d ordered, and Nile had decided to teach the remaining group of fossils she now called family a new game for while they waited. And if it was a game she was guaranteed to win? Well. That wasn’t on purpose. — A small fic in which Joe loves his family, and the immortal fam love Joe.

i just really like joe waxing poetic about his family

the devil you know by falseconfidence (2254 words)

In which Nile drives the getaway car for the first time and quickly learns that there's a reason why everyone in this family drinks.

where nicky is your annoying dad in the passenger seat and andy slashes the tires of a dickbag and nile is Very Tired (warning for brief canon typical violence, unsafe car practices)

let our moment linger by indiebitch (1466 words)

there was something so lovely about Yusuf being draped across him like this. The rise and fall of his stomach as a reminder that his love, his heart was still breathing. The happy little sighs Joe would let out every once in a while. It just made Nicky so happy he could weep.

or Nicky loving to watch his husband sleep

soft sleepy husbands fluff

i found peace in your violence by incurableromancer (1387 words)

Nile knows that Joe could take apart and reassemble any make or model of gun you put in front of him while blindfolded and probably handcuffed. She knows that he can competently fly more planes and man more ships than Nile has or will see for many, many years to come. She’s heard stories about him defusing bombs and making it home in time for dinner, and yet. He’s still mildly afraid of microwaves, and doesn’t know how to type with his thumbs. Nile has seen him cry at The Notebook, and then cry again hours later while telling Nicky about it.

Or: found family, and moments of happiness, peace and healing between the chaos.

nile and joe hang out!!!

hope these are enough to tide you over!! (and lmk if i missed a link or anything)

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 33)

The large round eyes, belonging to the auburn fox, flutter from left and right, back to left, before it takes a deep breath and leaves its safe pot to seek food for the day. The night’s hefty downpour prevented it from going out, and now it’s hungry. The new world order has made it a lot easier to find food, which also means that the feeling of hunger is seldom reminded. But during the night, its stomach has been rumbling for something tasty, a bird or anything really. On soft paws, the fox hurries across the grass before stopping abruptly, to check that the coast is clear. But its home environment, a forest somewhere in Virginia, is deserted and free from danger. It had been a long time since this fox had experienced a hunting season, or heard the sound of quad bikes smelling of exhaust fumes pulling through its natural habitat. The fox hurries on, but just a few meters on it stops abruptly again, pricks up its ears when a rustle is heard. Silently, the fox hurries into a bush, at the same time as the grass is split some distance away by a pair of worn Keen hiking boots. The sun plays through the rustling foliage; a soft clatter, a result of the soft breeze that pulls through the forest.

After rain comes sunshine, it’s said. But the crooked male who stumbles between the tree trunks with trailing steps, has no idea of ​​the beauty of mother nature that surrounds him. Nor any idea that he was once a thinking, living being. Many months have passed and time has not been gentle on him. A piece, large as a clenched fist, of his cheek is ripped out, but it doesn’t worry him. He totally lacks the ability to feel, to reason about whether he needs to see a doctor or put a bandaid on it. That time is over. The only instinct that remains and clings to the man’s poisoned, dead consciousness is hunger. An incurable, constant hunger for meat. That’s what drives the man forward through the forest, without, unlike the fox, being on his guard. It’s also this inattention that is reminded when a 5.45 mm bullet penetrates his skull, between the ear and the eye. The loud sound makes the fox give up his attempted excursion and rush back to his burrow.

Daryl tears his eyes from the walker who collapses on the ground like a shattered house of cards, and glances to his left. 

“Home run.” He says as Mila lowers the rifle. “Ya’ wanna let me have a fair chance?” “It was you who said we should compete.” Mila threads the rifle’s shoulder strap over her arm and gives him a cheeky smile. “Gotta level up your game, Dixon. It’s not a contest if I let you win.”

“Hmpf...”

Mila starts walking and Daryl follows. He should have suspected that she was competitive. So far, she leads with eight hits against his three. 

They’re heading west. A few days earlier, Glenn, Rick and Sasha returned to the Safe-Zone after a run, announcing that they had passed a mall they hadn’t seen before. As it got dark, all three agreed that it would be foolhardy to go in and investigate. Instead, Daryl suggested that he take on the task; leave early and check the place out.

“Take someone with you.” was the only thing Rick said before heading off to bed. 

In front of Daryl, Mila’s trotting on towards their goal as fast as her feet manage. The untied boot laces bounces around her feet, whips up fallen leaves. They have accomplished about 2 miles which is halfway according to Rick’s description, made their way through woods and abandoned streets. Not taking the car was a conscious choice; Daryl wanted to do the walk. In nature he can breathe, he needs it and all its simplicity as if it were oxygen. He can not imagine spending the day with anyone else then her, on foot, on a mission to explore. Neither more nor less, yet everything.

“How far did they say it was?” Mila turns and looks at him; the long hair forms a fan around her face of the rapid movement. 

“‘Bout halfway.” He replies.

“And we’re supposed to do what again?”

“Scout the place for supplies, then go back another day if it’s any good.” Daryl offers Mila his hand as she makes her way over a big branch, lying in their path. “Ya’ had anything in mind?”

“Carol asked for some new fancy kitchen knives.”

“Course she did.” Daryl grimaces, amused by Carol’s request, and climbs the branch. 

“You go way back, you two, huh?” Mila squints at him.  

Daryl squints back at her; Mila’s sapphire blue eyes are curious and gleams in the dancing sunlight that penetrates the dense foliage above. He shrugs a little. 

“No more than anyone else.”

Mila lifts her eyebrows at him, she wants to hear more. Daryl sighs.

“We just-” He pauses, doesn’t really know what to say. “Get each other. Somehow.” How should he describe their friendship? Carol is one of his closest, most dearest friends. She’s warm, kind, fierce and she has a haunting ability to read his mind; knows what he thinks without him uttering a single word. Might be a mother’s instinct, or it might be something else, but Daryl values her ability immensely, not being very good with words himself. In the beginning, way back, he felt irritated, exposed and vulnerable in Carol’s presence. Could just as well be because he was a full blown ass to everything and everyone, but Carol made him feel human, made him feel like ‘someone’. She helped him find purpose and meaning in the group, never doubted him. Gosh, if it wasn’t for Carol, he thinks and looks at Mila, he would never be where he is; here, with Mila, being able to talk with her, not sounding like a buffoon or a total piece of shit. Crap, without Carol’s tremendous influence, Mila would probably have shunned him like the plague. He’d never in his life thought he’d soften up like this, but right now- He owes Carol everything for believing in him, not giving up. What if he’s been a good influence on her as well?

Out of nowhere, Mila says:

“You’ve gone through a lot together. Of course that must be more than friendship, that’s-” She searches for words. “-family. Strong bonds. Growing together, always having each others back. That’s valuable.”

“She’s great.” Daryl says and looks at Mila; wow, she really put words on his feelings. 

“Invaluable, I would say.” Mila smiles. “Who could have dreamed of having a babysitter in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? One who’s also chef, baker, friend- a hell of a soldier.” She chuckles and grins at him. “And here I am, with you. Hell, I might switch to Carol, now that I think of it. She’s awesome.”

Daryl takes up a handful of leaves and throws at her. Mila laughs and leans in, pulls him into a kiss, lips with a lingering taste of this morning’s breakfast; coffee black as hell and the blantest looking bowl of oatmeal Daryl’s ever seen. Her lips sweep over his and Daryl, still holding onto the crossbow, puts his arm around her neck and replies the kiss, feeling her soft hair brush against his arm. 

”I guess I get to work a little extra then.” He says with a smirk. “I won’t start baking though.”

“You sure?” She raises her eyebrows. “I'm pretty convincing.” 

For you and the kid I’d probably do whatever the hell you wanted, if you asked me to, Daryl thinks. Damn, he would go through fire and water for ‘em.

“Let’s get this over with.” He puts a loop of her hair behind her ear. ”come on, Jersey.”

With his arms still resting around her neck, they continue to walk. Above them the treetops rattle pleasantly in the wind. The birds chirp and some distance away two squirrels perform their dance for each other around a thick tree trunk, wiggling their tails and noses simultaneously. But something’s disturbing the overall peaceful atmosphere. Maybe it’s intuition, but something's not quite right. Something in the distance makes Daryl stop abruptly. All of his muscles tenses and Daryl pricks up his ears, just like the fox he saw earlier. Male voices, more than two. Like a laser pointer, his gaze moves from left to right, frantically scouting for the slightest movement, the slightest deviation from the green vegetation around them. Suddenly he sees it. Ten meters in front of where they have haltered, the greenery, scattered with a few trees and bushes, opens into a paved road. On the other side of the road lies two buildings. It’s the dirty, black pickup parked in front of one of the buildings that has caught his attention. That and the armed men surrounding it. 

“Down!”

“What?”

Before Mila has the chance to react, Daryl grabs her by the jacket and forces her to crouch. He raises a dirty index finger in front of his lips, as a sign that she should be dead quiet. Mila looks around, understands that he has seen something she has not seen yet. The sound of voices at a distance makes her look beyond the trees and bushes and she catches sight of the pickup. Carefully they make their way over to a pair of bushes that separates wilderness from domesticated. He pulls her down in the tall grass behind the foliage, out of sight, but the men in the parking lot don’t take notice of what’s happening in the vegetation at the other side of the road. Their attention lies fully on the boxes of ammunition they carry out of the run down building. They stack them on the covered truck bed, then return inside to grab some more, like a running band. Mila scouts through the foliage.

“Anyone you’ve seen before?” She asks in a low voice.

“Nah.” Daryl shakes his head while he follows a man with shoulder-length blond hair with his eyes. The blonde man disappears into the building and another comes out with yet another box. “Nah, they’re new.”

While five of the men fill the truck bed with boxes and cartons, the sixth man is standing on guard, armed with an automatic rifle, eyes searching the surrounding for any dangers, or other people. 

“Maybe we should lie low for awhile.” Mila states. 

Yeah, certainly feels foolish to make themselves known. Instead they lay low behind the bushes, watching the unknown group from a distance. Daryl looks at Mila’s profile; her forehead is furrowed and she seems to think, while biting on her lower lip. 

“Whatcha thinkin’?”

“There’s-“ She counts. ”-six of them. There’s two of us. And I’m not good at math, but-” Once again Mila peers through the foliage. “And one doesn’t need that much ammunition unless there’s a threat.” She mumbles. “Or if you yourself is the threat.”

Daryl doesn’t answer. He thought exactly the same. There’s two possible scenarios for the reason behind this hoarding and he doesn’t like any of ‘em. His thoughts wander back in time, to the prison and the Governor, beheading Herschel and splitting the group, which caused him to flee headlong with Beth. An unpleasant sensation begins to take shape inside his stomach, a bundle of painful memories cutting his insides like barbed wire. There can’t be another Governor situation, not another battle. No more losses.  

“Wonder where they’re staying.” Mila continues. “You think they have their own Safe-Zone somewhere?”

“More like Alamo.” Daryl replies, considering the heavy armor. “Ain’t lookin’ too good.”

“As long as we stay far away, we should be fine.” 

Mila pats him on the knee and turns her eyes away from the gun shop. She makes herself comfortable, takes off her backpack, opens it and takes out two plastic bottles of water, followed by a half filled bottle of vodka. Daryl grins.

“Ya’ got a problem, Jersey.” He says and receives a bottle of water. 

“I know.” She says. “If you happen to stumble across an AA meeting I promise you I’d attend, without hesitating.”  

“Been like this for long?” He drinks and looks at Mila over the clear plastic bottle. “The drinkin’ I mean.”

“My family has a long tradition of desertion, foolish luck and malicious alcoholism. I’m not exactly surprised.” Mila fiddles with the cap of the vodka bottle. “Luckily I have a quite high tolerance. Besides, I can’t really stop either. It’s considered a disease I’ve heard.” She grins amused. “Back in Russia they’d die of laughter if they heard.” She pauses and squints at Daryl in the sun. “You’d like me to stop, right?”

“You do you.” Daryl responds. Ain’t his business to tell her what to do. Nor his right to.

“That’s new.” Mila says. 

“Doesn’t seem to be that much of a problem, that’s all.” 

“Good for me then. I didn’t plan to stop, not yet at least.”

“Take ya’ time.” Daryl says. “As long as ya’ safe. And the kid. Ya’ doin’ fine.”

“Might be hard to put your head around, but I was actually quite deep in the shit a couple of months ago. Though-” Mila pauses. “I’d lie if I said I didn’t feel guilty. This-” She nods at the bottle. “No kid should grow up around it. I mean, I did and that didn’t go well. I’d throw myself over a cliff if anything happened to Juri, but-” She sighs. “I have flaws, demons. But I’ve sworn to myself, and Juri, that he’s safe, no matter how wasted or fucked up I am.”

Daryl reaches out his arm, pulls her towards him. 

“He wouldn’t be more safe with anyone else.” Daryl says and squeezes her a little. “Ya’ doin’ good, Jersey. Drunk or not.”

A bang, the sound of the door to the pickup’s flatbed closing, makes them both jump in the grass. They turn their heads and look through the foliage, seeing the men step into the car and onto the loaded flatbed.

“Let’s go.” They hear one of them holler.

The engine starts and they drive out of the deserted parking lot in front of the gun shop, turn left and disappear.

“Coast is clear.” Mila declares. “Let’s get going.”

[stellarrmoon]

Black Sand and Copy Cat

Pairing: kakashi x reader

Genre: smut; 1/???

Warnings: get some water.

Status: unedited

Background: you're a sand shinobi sent to the leaf village in order to learn some new skills. Except, you dont look like everyone else; and that catches the attention of the Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake.

I settled into my room nicely, being escorted by a Jonin ninja to my quarters and left to my own space. It was only 4 in the afternoon and I was feeling ready for dinner. I didn't know how I could go into the village without raising as much curiosity as much as I did in front of Lady Tsunade.

I was clearly different from the people here and some wouldn't take kindly to me purely because I was clearly foreign. But I had a solution to limit the uproar. I had only come with a backpack filled with one day's change of clothes, weapons and bandages to wrap around my face.

Lady Tsunade assured me that I wouldn't have to worry about anything during my stay and I trusted her word, seeing as how she and her ninja accepted me quite quickly. I heard a knock on my door and opened it to reveal the Jonin who brought me to my room.

"A few of us would like to invite you to dinner tonight. Since you don't know anyone, we thought it was the best way to get you to meet a few people in the village so that you're not completely lonely."

I could tell that he was still curious about my origins by the way he looked at my hair but I didn't think much of it. "Thank you, I'll be there."

"That's great!" He beamed, "I'll send one of my friends to come escort you."

I spent about an hour in my room carving the few weapons I had brought with me. About 3 knives had already been sharpened and there were only 2 left, counting the one in my hand. I was in my own peace until I was interrupted by a knock.

That must be my escort.

I shouted that "I'm coming!", and wrapped bandages around my neck and the lower half of my face so only my eyes and forehead were shown. When I opened the door, I was met with the same white haired man who startled me earlier. "Oh, it's you."

He was reading a book as he leaned against the wall across my door, not caring that I wasn't pleased to see him. "Yes, it is me. I take it you're ready to go, Ms Amabel."

I narrowed my eyes, "How do you know my full name?"

"I asked around." He said as he flipped a page in his book, "Let's go, or else they'll finish all the meat."

I closed my door and followed the man - "Kakashi" - outside of the building and onto the street. This time, he didn't bother making conversation

"So what is the reason that you are so closed off that you can't even entertain a tiny conversation with me?"

Or so I thought.

You resisted the urge to scoff, his attitude was too nonchalant for your liking. He asked like it wasn't weird for him to be so curious about a visiting resident. "Come on, Ms Amabel, don't leave my poor soul hanging."

"I can hear your smirk inside your stupid mask."

"Ooh, a fiesty one, aren't you?"

"Are we there yet?!"

He closed his book and put it into one of his vest pockets, "Patience, bunny."

"Excuse me?!"

"Kakashi!" A loud voice called before I could continue, and it was coming from the entrance of the shop we were standing in front of. The voice belonged to a man donned in a green jumpsuit and vest with a shining bowl cut and bushy brows. "You're late to the dinner which makes me the winner of the race!" He exclaimed quite excitedly.

I heard Kakashi sigh beside me, causing my lip to quirk as I thought of him being irritated by something as pretentious as this guy in front of us. Suddenly, the intense man turned to you and came incredibly close to inspect me. I was weirded out already as he invaded my personal space but when he wiped his thumb on my forehead, I screamed. He responded by screaming as well and jumped back.

"Kakashi! What is this?"

He asked as if I wasn't clearly a person. Kakashi cleared his throat, "She's the representative of the Sand village we were told about last week, Guy."

"B-b-b-but... she's..."

"I'm what?" I asked softly, looking the now fearful man in the eye, daring him to say what was in his mind.

Aside from that startling question, I had a fairly good dinner. The jonin I met were all kind, even the super weird guy with his big brows. It gave me a slight sense of home and how all my comrades would find ways to make our table the loudest whenever we ate out.

Kakashi took me back to my place and by the end of the night, my thoughts about him had changed. At first, I was just skeptical about the sneaky guy and a tad irritated by his joking demeanor, but something about him seemed so genuine that I decided to give the guy a chance. I couldn't say he was attractive, purely because I couldn't see his face at all but something about his aura intrigued me about him. Why was he a mystery?

Scolding myself for thinking about him, I shook my head and gathered my things to get ready for the day. Since it was winter, the mornings were still dark but I estimated it was around 5 o'clock. I mentally thanked myself that I had braided my hair last night because who knew what state it would be in after my sleep.

I wrapped a towel around my body and grabbed my toiletries to go to the communal bathrooms. Of course, I had to use shoes inside because I didn't know what could infect me. Unfortunately, I didn't know which way to go and I stood, confused, at the at the top of a staircase at the end of the corridor.

"Wanna know where the bathroom is?"

"Shit!" I jumped at the voice right beside my ear, turning around to face a muscular, bare chest that belonged to none other than Kakashi. I looked up to his masked face and scowled. "Stop sneaking up on me."

"Where's the fun in that, Bunny?"

"Bunny? Why do you call me Bunny?"

He chuckled as if it was obvious. I couldn't stop myself from looking at his exposed torso and internally gasping at how well-built he was. "I call you that because you're so jumpy..." he leaned down beside my ear again. This time, I sensed him take off his mask so his lips brushed against my ear as he said, "...Bunny."

I couldn't move, even when he pulled away and walked past me.

"Bunny?" I quickly turned. "Aren't you coming to wash up?"

I almost cursed at his tilted head, "Fine."

As hard as I sounded on the outside, I was actually losing my mind at what just happened. He was so close to me and with only a towel around his waist. I couldn't deny that his body was amazing, and it had been a while since I last felt the touch of a man. Who knew what this guy could do with his hands, and a small part of me wanted to find out.

Two flights of stairs later and "We're here. The bathrooms aren't separated into male and female so everyone can see everyone. But lucky for you, it's just the two of us up this early."

Lucky? What's lucky about being naked around a guy I met a day ago?

It's a hot guy you met a day ago, my subconscious said.

Kakashi entered the bathroom swiftly, choosing a showerhead right in the middle and getting to his business. I took the showerhead opposite his because it was the best way to hide my body from him; if I chose one to the sides, he could easily have peeped over. I set the water to piping hot, turning around to let it hit my back just the right way and solicit a dragged out moan from me.

"That's an interesting sound."

I opened my eyes to see Kakashi facing me and his hair was drenched, falling over the one side of his face that wasn't exposed. "Eek! You pervert!"

I hurriedly overed my body with my arms and hands, turning back around and trying not to freak out. "I'm not the one who chose the shower closest to me."

It wasn't long until I felt his presence right behind me and something poking my lower back. Holy shit. "Nice ass, Bunny."

Without another word, I heard Kakashi leave the bathroom and I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. "What the hell just happened, Ama?"

It had been a weak since I had arrived at the Leaf village and I was still thinking about that moment I had with Kakashi in the bathroom. 1st of all, I didn't even know he was living in the same lodge as me, and 2nd, the man pretended as if nothing happened. He wasn't escorting me to places anymore due to how he had his own group of young ninjas to train and look after, which made me sad a little but I figured that the less we spent time together, the better.

I attended training every single day, spending a total of 12 hours learning techniques and the basics. I had a kind mentor named Anko and she was patient with me. She praised the fact that my body was in good enough shape to handle the training and questioned me about why my chakra was so strong for someone who wasn't a shinobi at my age of 19. I didn't know anything except for the fact that the woman who found me as a baby, was a witch who gave me power to survive in Japan.

She looked after me while she stayed in the Sand Village and it was only recently that she left on her "next quest", she put it. I was sad that the woman who moulded me into who I am today had to leave but I understood her reasons.

It was only midday and Anko had taken me to the forest to do target practice with my knives and shuriken. We had been going at it for a while until a ninja disturbed us, whispering to Anko about something I was obviously not supposed to hear. "Ama. I have to leave."

"What? But I haven't finished my training for today."

She sighed and started walking backwards as the other ninja ran, "I know, I'm sorry. But they've sent someone here to help you for the rest of the day!" Her voice drifted as she got farther away.

I huffed and rolled my eyes, a bit bummed that she wouldn't be here later to spar with me.

"Aww, don't pout, Bunny."

I looked up to see Kakashi hanging from a tree. "What the hell is up with you and sneaking up on me? Do you enjoy seeing me lose my breath?"

"Of course I do!" He jumped down to stand right in front of me, "I wanna try another way of making you do that, though."

My jaw dropped as soon as he said the suggestive words, "How can you be so relaxed about saying words like that?"

"I have nothing to lose, Bunny." He started going to different trees and marking them with Xes as he spoke to me.

"What about your job?"

"Why would I lose my job for giving you an extra warm welcome?" He looked at me. "It's not like you don't enjoy it."

"...Liar." I hesitated.

"Is that why your nipples were so hard in the bathroom last week?"

He had me speechless, I didn't know what to do in front of this guy. He was too good at being himself.

"Anyways, let's carry on with your training, yeah?"

"You're Anko's substitute?" I resisted the urge to laugh but I ended up letting out a chuckle at the thought of this guy teaching me. "You have to be kidding me. You can't be as good as Anko."

"No, Bunny, I'm better. Have you not heard of my reputation?" With each word he spoke, he took a step closer to me, "I'm one of the Leaf Villages best ninja. See this eye right here," He lifted his headband to reveal his left eye which was a bloody red colour and decorated by a long scar running vertically down the skin over underneath, "this eye lets me figure out my prey's moves before they can even make them. They call me the copy-ninja because I always catch my prey, and Bunny..."

He did something I wasn't expecting and placed his cold hand on my exposed midriff. "Kakashi."

"You are my most enticing prey."

I only saw pale skin for a second when Kakashi pulled his mask down, before he crashed his lips into mine and started kissing me like he was starved. My body reacted on its own as I melted into his body and let his arms support me while I let him suck on my tongue.  This kiss was unlike any I had ever had; it was full of hunger and want and passion, most of it coming from him but it was a moment where I couldn't deny my strong attraction to him.

One of his hands travelled to my thigh, which he hiked up and wrapped my leg around his waist. The other quickly followed and he leaned me against a nearby tree to make things easier. Soon, his lips moved from my lips to my jaw to my neck and it wasn't until they reached the top of my cleavage that I had to stop him.

"Kakashi, wait."

He stopped. He leaned his forehead on my chest and I could feel his grip on my thighs loosening. In the next minute, Kakashi had put his mask back on and let me stand on me feet, leaving space between us for me to talk.

"I don't want to do this here."

"I can see that. Let's get to your training, shall we?"

I couldn't sleep. No matter how hard I tried. For the past 3 days, I couldn't get the image of that kiss I had with Kakashi in the forest and I was yearning for more. Fed up, with the cycle, I grabbed the nightgown I had bought a few days ago and wore it before stepping out. I knew there was a rooftop so I headed up the stairs and stepped onto the gravel before I noticed, at the rail, none other than...

"Kakashi." I breathed out.

His figure turned and as he did so, the moonlight shone on his body, making the muscles look better than ever. "Ms Amabel."

I chuckled as I walked towards him, "What, no 'Bunny' today?"

He smiled and that's when I noticed that he had his mask off. I couldn't see much because of the dark but I could tell that he was beautiful. He had a long, pointed nose that was slightly upturned and his lips were soft but plump, exactly as how I felt them against mine. He had a mole next to his bottom lip that made him look even more charming. This man was a dream. "You like it when I call you Bunny?"

Suddenly, I got shy and looked down, playing with my thumbs. "Well... yeah."

He grabbed a hold of my waist and pulled me flush against his body. Even though he was wearing long pants, I could feel his hard-on against me. "If I call you Bunny, what do you call me?"

This man seemed hellbent on fucking me. The way he spoke and the way he held me - the way he looked at me. It's like I was... his prey.

"Well?"

I looked into his differently coloured eyes and found myself getting lost in them. "Kakashi..."

He laughed boisterously, "Really? You're gonna stick with Kakashi?"

"No... I was thinking maybe, Daddy?"

He let out a groan and his grip was tighter on me, "Don't joke with me, Bunny."

"I'm not." Now I looked at him more intently. I needed us to get into a room now. "Let's go." I whispered into his chest.

Before I could say another word, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

"Kakashi!" I giggled while he snickered. He basically jumped down the stairs until we reached his room and he slammed the door shut with his foot.

I was thrown onto the bed, resting back on my forearms to admire his physique. Moonlight peaked though the window and highlighted his body. "You're staring quite a lot, aren't you?"

"Got a problem with it?"

"Not if you'll let me return the favor." He grabbed a chair and made himself comfortable, manspreading right in from me.

Usually, I was a person who liked to keep to myself but when it came to pleasing a partner - especially one who made me as aroused as Kakashi - I had no boundaries. I figured I'd tease him a little bit before I got to showing him what he wanted to see.

"Come on, Bunny, don't make me beg." His voice was soothing as he watched me let down the straps of my nightgown one by one. He followed my hands as they played with the hem and started lifting it up. The closer I got to exposing myself, the more Kakashi leaned forward, but I pulled it back down at the last moment, giggling at Kakashi's shocked face.

I knew it! "You're a perv, Mr Hatake. But that kinda makes me excited."

Finally, I pulled the dress over my head and threw it on the floor. I felt my boobs bounce as I let Kakashi drink in the sight of me. "It's gonna be hard for me to keep my hands to myself if I watch you."

"Then touch me, Daddy."

Kakashi swiftly glided to kiss me, holding my hands to the bed by my wrists as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. I was already a bit wet from feeling his dick earlier but he was making me wetter. He wasted no time getting to kiss every inch of my body, from my neck to my boobs, my tummy and legs. He paid special attention to my boobs and thighs, saying they were "fucking amazing" which only led me to yearn for him more.

The way his hands were all over my skin made me burn up and his voice as he praised my body made me all the needier. "Kakashi..."

"Yes, baby..."

His hand travelled to my mound which caused me to gasp as he cupped it.

"I'm gonna make this mine, Bunny."

A slim finger slid up my slit, collecting the sticky wetness that had already collected there. I watched as he started to play with my pussy. Kneeling in front of my open legs, Kakashi circled and pressed against my clit in such a way that had me squirming. He was taking his time with me but all I wanted was to feel him deep inside my heat.

I was only letting out soft, sweet moans; back arched and head thrown back when he started to tease the area around my opening. "Please..." I sounded like a whore.

He pushed the fingers I fantasized about in the past into me, making me tense in pleasure. In and out, he started to maneuver them, making me writhe from his touch and play with my own boobs.

"Ah... yes, Kakashi, just like that." I mewled as I felt his fingers curling inside me; they kept hitting a spot that made me go crazy, and my sounds seemed to encourage him.

"You look so beautiful right now, Amabel. My hand's covered in your juices and they're glistening in the moonlight right now, baby. That's how wet I made you, you know that?"

Kakashi himself was breathless as he watched my body shine with sweat while I kept myself from screaming at his touch. With the pace getting faster, so did the frequency of my moans.  "Ah...ah! Oh my God, Kakashi, please make me cum."

Those words triggered him to grant me my wish as his mouth latched onto my clit and he got to licking and sucking. I felt it coming soon and struggled to keep my hips on the bed, Kakashi's hand on my lower belly the only thing keeping me steady. He moaned, the vibration causing me to still as I felt my stomach twist into the tightest knot.

"Kakashi, I'm cumming!!!"

I cried through my orgasm as I rode his fingers and face. I opened my eyes through it and he was watching my pussy convulse and pulse as kept pumping his fingers. "That's it, Bunny. Cum for me more."

He had a sadistic smile as he watched me lose control, finally deciding it was time for him to feel you around his length. Kakashi pulled out his fingers, before suddenly slamming his hard dick into my tightness. I silently screamed, rolling my eyes to the back of my head as he tried to burrow deeper inside me.

"Fuck, baby, it won't fit."

He took a deep breath before starting to roll his hips. They moved in waves, a continuous rhythm that had his penis entering and pulling out of my pussy in regular intervals, the squishing of my wetness very prominent in every thrust. "Ka-ka-shi..."

I purred into his ear while he buried his head in my neck, biting and kissing at my skin while one hand fondling a breast. "You feel so good, Bunny. Fuck, it's so tight."

"Mmmm Daddy, please go faster." I pulled his hair one last time before he lifted himself off my upper body and started thrusting at a greater speed. The sound of our skin slapping along with our moans and groans and cries made the room as erotic as ever.

"I'm gonna make you cum so hard, Bunny. Just look Daddy in the eye and make sure you let me know just how good I'm making your pussy feel."

Right when he placed my legs over his shoulders, I did what he said and good God, did his Sharingan eye not make me cum. "Daddyyyyyy!!! Ughhhhhhh!!!"

I screamed his name while the eye glowed and tears flowed down my face since he kept going and pounding me relentlessly as I orgasmed. I felt another one coming when he kept hitting my g-spot and tightened around his thick shaft, my walls keeping him locked in his position. I could feel him throb inside me. "You're so amazing, baby. Daddy's not even close to being done with you."

He pulled out, making me see just how big he was. He had to be at least 10 inches, with a good girth as well. I couldn't admire his appendage long enough because he flipped me over with ease and like before, rammed into my already sensitive heat. My juices were already coating my thighs and the area above his dick, I wondered how long he could go.

"Kakashi!" The man held my arms behind my back with one hand and grabbed my throat with the other. As soon as he pulled my body up, he didn't stop fucking up into me. We kissed as I felt another one coming, the lack of control I had over myself turning me on to the maximum. I felt the blood to my head stop circulating and felt my eyes closing.

"You wanna pass out taking my dick, Bunny? Hm, you wanna go to sleep knowing I own your pussy like this?" His voice was gruff, as if a monster had taken over him.

"Yes Daddy, please. Make me yours now. I'll do anything to feel it again, just use my body how you want!"

His grip on my neck tightened and again, I looked at his red eye. As if he saw what was coming next, Kakashi widened his eyes and gave one last thrust into me and we both came. His eye glowed brightly as he coated my walls with his seed and held my body as I shook from my most intense orgasm.

Surprisingly, he still felt hard inside me so he gave one last thrust that triggered something in me causing my body to let go of so much liquid it wet most of the sheets. It went on for a few moments as my strangled moan came out while my pussy spasmed again. "Fuuuuuck Kakashi!"

He kissed me deeply for a few seconds before delicately, guiding my body off his dick. I felt our combined cum spill out of me but I didn't have the energy to worry about it. Instead, I turned to look at Kakashi who had the biggest smile on his face as he looked at me.

"Where are we gonna sleep?" I inquired.

[dragon-fics]

DOS: Hunter to Lover (Male Dragon Shifter X Male Elf/Reader)

Chapter summary: You are an elf who must bring back a dragon’s head to be a hunter for your clan. While on your hunt, your team leaves you alone.

pt. 1, Pt. 2, pt. 3 pt. 4, pt.5

“And remember what hangs in the balance; your path in life!” Shouted the elder elf. His luscious silver locks wavered in the snowy air as he paced in front of us, giving us the speech every new hunting elf heard when they went on their first hunt. “Come back with a dragon’s head, you become one of us; fierce hunters who feed our clan! Come back empty-handed, and you will have to make another life for yourself!”

Every firstborn heard this speech on their 800th year of life, when we come of age to be adult elves. And now it was my turn.

I stood with my team of five other elves, we all wielded a weapon; a bow, an ax, a sword or a dagger, along with hunting knives on our belt. I held a bow, a quiver tightly strapped around my torso. I set my face hard, but I wasn’t ready for this.

The elves beside me absolutely were; they were ready to be hunters for our clan.

The elder faced the group, his speech finished. His silver robes wavered in the breeze. He scanned all of us, his ancient gaze pausing on me. I gulped.

“Go forth! And find yourself a beast to kill!”

The surrounding elves raised their fists. “Ho!” They shouted.

“Ho,” I mumbled with them.

The groups dispersed. I followed mine to the north of our village. We already had scouted to the north, and there we found hints that a dragon lived nearby; shed scales, large animal carcasses, large dung piles, all remanents of a dragon.

Our leader Bracken, an elf three months older and taller than me, ran over our plan quickly; I would release some arrows to distract the beast, three others would charge at it and our leader would drive his sword through the dragon’s chest. Straight forward, but hard to time and even harder to find the dragon. We all nodded, to show that we understood the plan. He gave a quick nod back, and we started our way out of the village.

We trekked for a long time until we found the dragon’s main feeding spot; he littered it with carcasses from recently to bones from years ago. I looked away, disgusted; how could any creature eat another creature? It was barbaric.

“Search for tracks,” our leader ordered. We split up.

I made my way over to the freshest carcass and circled it. Large five-clawed talon marks were pressed in the ground. I followed them out of the clearing to the east. I turned around.

“Bracken!” I called. But they were gone, the four of them had just disappeared. “Bracken, Arya, Nima, Flinn?” I called one by one. Nothing.

I thought for a moment. Perhaps they found tracks and wanted to investigate? I’m sure they’ll be back soon. 

I went over to one of the wider trees around the clearing and leaped up into it, and sat in the branch's crook, leaning against the trunk. I looked at my bow, plucking the string as I waited for my team to come back. After a while, I stopped and looked up through the leaves at the pale blue sky above. I was getting sore from sitting on the branch.

I sighed and listened to my surroundings, so I could try to hear where my teammates were. I closed my eyes and focused on my ears. I pushed aside the close sounds and focused on the smaller ones. I could hear some grasshoppers nearby, two squirrels scurrying up a tree and a mother moon phoenix calling to her fledglings to come back for dinner. But no adolescent elves.

I sat like that for a long time. When I opened my eyes, the sun was setting and my legs were asleep. I stretched, dangled out of the tree, my hands gripping the branch as I hung there.

“What am I going to do?” I whispered. I walked over to the tracks I had found earlier. I had no team, no way to bring back a dragon’s head, and I had no way to get back safely without my teammates.

I looked at the long line of tracks ahead of me and drew in a breath. I’d have to stay silent and hope that the dragon and I didn’t cross paths.

I stayed to the edge of the tracks, walking beside them as I looked around. The forest was getting dark, but my Elven sight allowed me to see in the growing darkness.

My heart raced as I walked, I was so scared about coming across the dragon; I forgot about the tracks and wandered off course.

I stop in my stride as I came out of my thoughts.

Where am I?

I spun around and looked at the ground; no tracks in sight. I whipped my head around again, my breathing quickening.

I’m lost and alone.

I don’t know where the village is from here.

No one knows where I am. I’m going to die here at the talons of a bloodthirsty beast and no one will ever know where I died.

A picture of my parents and siblings flashed before my eyes.

They’ll never know...

Tears spilled from my eyes, and I heard heavy wings flap above me.

Mama and Papa will never know because I’m a coward and a fool

Something landed behind me rather lightly.

“It’s all right, little elfling,” soothed a male voice. “I won’t hurt you.”

I spun around, tears spilling down. In front of me stood a muscular male with broad shoulders and chest. His skin tone was much darker than my own pale complexion and had dark green scales on his jaw and neck. He had scaled dark green wings on his back and dark horns protruding from his dark shoulder length hair. He wore a pair of brown trousers and nothing more.

A dragon? I questioned. They have more than one form?

He came closer, his expression soft. “You’re lost, aren’t you?” He asked, he sounded like he will bundle me up and take care of me forever. I wanted to trust me.

I nodded my head, my lips quivering.

“Oh, little elfling,” he pouted. He came closer and wrapped his arms and wings around me. “Those elves were wrong to abandon you.” I sobbed into his chest. How was I doing this? I’m supposed to kill him, not sob uncontrollably in his hold.

“I know just what you need,” he said. He opened his wings and looked down at me. His bare chest was getting soaked by my tears. “Come with me, little elfling,” he whispered.

I nodded, even though it wasn’t a suggestion.

He put a wing around me and walked me away from where we were. I slowly gathered myself as we walked.

“What’s your name, little elfling?” He asked.

“(Y/N),” I stuttered.

“A pretty name for a pretty elf boy,” he mused. I smiled, blushing. “I’m Ugauc.”

I smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, Ugauc.”

We stopped in front of a curtain of leafy vines.

“Welcome to my home,” he greeted before moving me through the dew dusted leaves. On the other side was a bed made of animal hides, a few loose bones, a tiny stream of water and glowing crystals in the walls, ceiling and stalactites, illuminating the cave. There were no gold or gems, no Elven warriors strewn on the ground. No blood spattered on the walls and floor. Maybe we had everything wrong about them.

Ugauc walked forward, leaving me by the entrance.

“This... This is beautiful,” I gasped, focusing on the glowing ceiling.

Ugauc shrugged. “I suppose so. I guess I wanted to find a simple home, having figured out my mate is an elf.”

I looked at him. “Who?” I stiffed as my nose cleared up.

Ugauc hesitated and looked at me. “You, (Y/N).”

I looked back at him, frozen. All this comforting was just so he could—

—No, there must be more to it. He said figured out, remember.

“How do you know that we...?” I put my forefingers together.

Ugauc looked down, thinking about how to explain this. “When dragons come of an age to find a mate, an invisible string pulls us towards each other, so we may find each other. My string led me to your village. I was confused at first, but when you went on a scouting trip with those ‘teammates’ of yours, I knew it was one of you. So I observed all of you—I liked you the most—but when you spilt up to follow my tracks, it was easier for me to figure out which one of you is my soulmate,” he explained. He looked at me, golden eyes shining.

I looked down. “So, we’re—?” I pointed from me to him.

He nodded.

“And you’re sure it’s not any of the others?”

“(Y/N), what I feel with you is like nothing I have ever felt with anyone else.” He moved closer and cupped my cheek.

I swallowed saliva. “Do—did you scare off the others to figure this out?”

Ugauc stepped back. “By the howling winds, no,” he said, sounding insulted. “No, I didn’t. As soon as you turned your back, they walked off, little elfling. I promise you.”

I sighed, disappointed. I looked back at the vines behind me. No light passed through them. I looked back to Ugauc.

“I will walk you home,” he made his way towards the vines.

“Could—,” I started. He turned around. “Could I stay the night? I’m not ready to go home and everyone will be asleep.”

Ugauc smiled. “Please do, little elfling.”

“I’m not an elfling, Ugauc.” I crossed my arms.

“I know. But you’re my little elfling.”

I smiled, and he smiled back. I was so happy he had found me.

Let me know if you want a part 2! I enjoyed writing this WAY too much.

[brokenmimir]

A Desperate Prayer

White Rose Week 2020, Day 4: goddess AU

Ruby Rose is being chased by a terrible monster, when she prays for salvation. It probably works out better for her than for the goddess she unknowingly prayed to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24700954

Ruby ran, slipping and sliding, scrambling across the uneven ground. She'd spent much of her childhood playing at the edges of the forest, even going deeper than the other children, deeper than was prudent, but she'd always been an adventurous girl, and despite the reports of Grimm in the wilderness, she'd never seen anything so dangerous herself. Running into a monster actually sounded like an exciting adventure to the peasant girl.

The truth of the Grimm was nothing like she'd imagined. The Beowolf was enormous, a hulking beast of black fur and white bone, looming larger than a man, with claws as sharp as swords and longer than knives. Even just one Beowolf had been far, far more of a threat than she could possibly handle, and she'd hoped to run back to town before the monster caught her.

Unfortunately, whether through malign intellect or poor luck, Ruby found herself continuously turned away from the town, until she was running ever deeper in the now sinister woods. No matter what she did she could neither lose the Beowolf, nor find a way back towards safety. As minutes passed and the stitch in her side grew, she slowly began to realize that her foolishness had caused her death.

Then the ground gave way beneath her, and she tumbled down into a chasm that she hadn't seen from above. When she finally slid to a stop, battered and bruised, she took a moment to appreciate the intertwined branches of the trees, which had done a marvelous job of holding a carpet of leaves in place, hiding the drop from her view.

While part of her hoped that the Beowolf would miss her, she suspected that it was more likely to fall down on top of her, and so despite her pain she staggered to her feet, looking around wildly, hoping to see something that could save her. With some surprise she saw a stone statue covered in ivy standing at the center of the chasm.

For some strange reason she felt drawn to it, and without even pausing to think she tore the ivy and other growths away, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the beautiful statue. It was of a goddess, one long lost to the people of Patch, but obviously once well loved, as the marble statue was the work of a devoted master. If the strange goddess resembled her sculpture then she was truly beautiful, and just looking at her took Ruby's breath away.

She came back to herself when she heard the scrape of the Beowolf moving above, and her eyes widened as she realized that she was caught. There was no way that she could climb out of the chasm without the Beowolf catching her, and she had no weapons to even attempt to fight back with. Suddenly struck with a feeling of wild desperation, she threw herself to her knees in front of the statue and clasped her hands in prayer.

“Oh… um, whoever you are?” Ruby breathed. “I've never seen you before, and I don't know your name, or if you're listening, or, uh, whatever. But you're really pretty, and I'm in so much trouble. If you're listening, then please, please, please save me. I know I'm just some nobody from Patch, but please, I promise to be really faithful and do what you want if I can live through this.”

For a moment nothing happened, and then a voice spoke, making Ruby almost jump out of her skin. “Hmph. That was a terrible prayer.”

“S-sorry,” Ruby gasped after looking around. “I didn't mean to be a bad prayer-person, but I'm really, really in trouble. Please, please help me.”

“And why should I help you if you don't even know who I am?”

“'Cause you're nice?”

“Meh,” the voice said. “My power isn't exactly infinite you know, since nobody worships me these days. Why should I spend what I do have saving you?”

“Because… because…” Ruby scrambled for a moment, trying to think of something, anything to convince the goddess, who she really hoped she wasn't hallucinating, to help her. There was a growl behind her, and a snapping sound as the Beowolf slashed apart some of the branches to reveal the chasm. “You don't have many worshippers, right? I'll worship you! I'll be the bestest worshipper ever! And- and I'll tell everyone about how great you are, and try to get them to worship you too! Please, your goddessness, please save me.”

“Weiss.”

“Huh?”

“My name, you dolt,” the voice snapped. “It's Weiss. And did you really mean that?”

The Beowolf jumped down with a crash, and only its sadistic desire to draw out her death was keeping her alive anymore. “Yes!"

“Swear yourself to me, mortal.”

“I, Ruby Rose, swear myself to Weiss!"

“Not exactly a classical ceremony, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers,” Weiss sighed. “Fine, then. I claim you, Ruby Rose, to be the new High Priestess of my Faith. Be appropriately awed.”

“Thanks! Um… what about the Beowolf?”

“The gods help those who help themselves,” Weiss sniffed. “But I suppose, as my new high priestess, I can lend you a bit of power. Picture a weapon.”

Ruby turned to face the Grimm, which was now mere feet away from her. Without anytime to think she pictured the first weapon that popped into her head, the tool that she'd used to harvest her father's farm each fall. In moments a large, red scythe, covered in strange runes, appeared in her hands.

“Ugh, a scythe?” Weiss grumbled. “Really?”

Before Ruby could reply the Beowolf lunged at her, and with a shout that was more panicked terror than bold war cry she swung the weapon, catching the monster in the side. From the stories she'd heard most weapons had great difficulty penetrating the thick, bony hide of a Grimm, but the scythe cut through it without pause, reaping the monster with no more difficulty than a stalk of wheat. It fell to the ground in two halves, and then swiftly disintegrated into black smoke.

“I- I did it!” Ruby shouted.

“So you did,” Weiss mused. “Hmm… well, it may have looked silly, but you swung it well. Congratulations on surviving.”

“Thanks!” Ruby said brightly, turning back to face the statue. “Um, uh… what now?”

“Now?” Weiss asked. “Well, I suppose I will need to teach you about my religion, so that you can spread my faith as promised, high priestess. And so you can properly follow the new faith you've sworn yourself to.”

“Oh, uh, right,” Ruby said sheepishly. “Uh… what exactly are you the goddess of?”

“Knowledge and the Written Word,” Weiss said proudly. “It was I who gave the gift of Literacy to mankind, so that they could record all the Knowledge of the World. As my priestess you must be wise and learned. I think, before we begin your religious education, we'll need to start with your mundane one. How many languages do you know? Four? Five?”

“Uh… this one?”

There was a long pause. “Tell me you're at least literate, and not some peasant bumpkin?”

Ruby chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head as her new goddess groaned in frustration.