#a bit off from my usual style but i'm happy with how this one turned out

[lovendermist]

You know how Hange is sometimes called Hans? I feel like reader finds it attractive and uses Hans to call Hange instead of the usual coupley ones

Can i request scenarios with this idea? I find it so adorable

Darling, what did you just call me?

Come again?

Type: Scenarios, fluff, Hange being called Hans

WC: 1,696

Pairing: Hange (or dare I say Hans) x Reader

A/N: Hnggg this is so cute. Thank you so much for requesting this! Also, I wrote this down (like, pen and paper) during my vacant time in college, which I thought was really interesting because I didn't think I would actually make something I'm happy with considering how sleepy I am during those vacants! I'm kind of proud of myself for that. Only the part by the end is the one written on google docs, and of course I edited some of the sentences online, but still! Hope you enjoy!

hange masterlist

Hange being called Hans :)

It took you a while to realize that Hange tried their very best not to make it as obvious that most of your actions and words had such effects on them, driving them wild with desire and with love.

It always starts in the smallest of things. A slightly different style in clothing or even a different earring, but of course, Hange never fails to shower you with all the affection they can give you. They just keep it at a certain level as to not overwhelm you, because god knows you won't ever be able to leave the room if Hange was in the mood to show you just how much they love you, how much the slightest change in appearance is enough to make them swoon and be all overprotective.

But it doesn't end there. What you've noticed is that what seemingly affects them the most is when you call them. Whether it's verbal or by gesture, you name it. Once, you stood patiently by the doorway, calling Hange over once their meeting was done, and you swear, you could almost see them squirm as they went to you, the glint in their eyes betraying their nonchalant stride.

The moniker "Squad Leader" and simply their own name "Hange" would make them smile. Or even if their lips didn't feel like returning your smile, it would be their eyes doing it rather sweetly back at you. Hange swears that the way you say their name is a sedative of its own, by the way the moment your voice reaches their ears, their shoulders loose a bit of the tension in them, their eyes soften, their entire demeanor turning gentle. Hange endlessly loves the sound of their own name rolling from your tongue. They don't say it out loud, but Hange wishes there were more excuses just for you to say it.

"Hanji", you called them one time, a slip of the tongue, but Hange -- or should we say Hanji, loved it. You suppose it's just the cost of having such a unique name, and you tease them about having so many names, which they giggle at. Hange especially loves how the "ji" part sounded; it was a little fast and desperate, they said. It always caught them off guard whenever anyone but you said their name like that. It was a rare pronunciation to hear from you, but god did they love it, and they'll never ever complain.

"Hans" finally slipped out one day, and neither of you expected it. Your tongue had messed up between saying their name and saying something else entirely, hence the amalgamation of such a name. Though weirdly enough, you didn't dislike the sound, and neither did Hange. And just as odd was how Hange immediately knew you were calling for them. They really do have a lot of names, don't they?

"Sorry," You shake your head with a smile at your own mistake, but it’s almost like your mind scrambles just as quickly to find another excuse to say the rather attractive nickname once more. "I meant Hange. Can you get me the spice over there please?"

Hange tilts their head to the side cutely, taken aback by the slip-up.

"No, no" They chuckle, keeping the spice you were looking for in their hand, eyes squinting rather charmingly. "Say it again."

"What?" You return their playful and amused smile with one of your own. You definitely heard them loud and clear, but it was bewildering how Hange was offering you the chance to say the name again just like that.

"You know what." Hange runs their free hand by your cheek, gliding their thumb up and down before finally settling by your chin, "My name, how you just said it." Hange squeezes your chin gently twice, smiling down at you.

You chuckle, turning soft at the gentle gesture before complying with their request, "Hans. The spice, please?" It's only been the second time, but the way it feels coming out of your mouth feels so natural and familiar already. Hange finally sets the spice by the counter beside you.

"Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" You grow disappointed by the way Hange lets go of your chin as they reply, but your smile doesn't waver.

"Hans." You say it again quietly. You find yourself growing fond of the new name, and so was Hange. Or should we say, Hans? "Do people call you that often?"

Hange ponders your question for a moment, "Hmmm. Maybe once or twice, but it's the first time I've heard it again. And I have to say, it was definitely better to hear it from you, even if it was accidental."

You lick your lips, considering the option of making it a new pet name for Hange. You certainly liked the sound of it, and if Hange's not averse to being called this name, then why not?

"Looks like your tongue has a mind of its own, making that name without even knowing people called me that before," Leaning against the counter, Hange's eyes glint as they look at you, "It's quite unique, isn't it?"

"It is,” You say to yourself more than to Hange, and you can see them perk up at the mention of their name again, “Hans, huh…"

You were certainly going to use this as Hange's new nickname.

One night, Hange was being particularly stubborn and refusing to leave their work, using your very own desk and spending more time with their work and research than with you, the very opposite from what you two intended to do in the few days that they had a break. Hange's brows furrowed, eyes glued to the pages in front of them, a hand up their messy hair as they try to make sense of whatever's on the pages. Your patience was thinning, and yet all you could do was watch and call for them at random intervals.

"Hange." You called out, leaning against the doorway of your own place and watching as your own partner worked themselves away in the night.

"Just a few more pages, darling."

"You said the same thing like 3 pages ago."

"Give me some more time, alright?" Hange's tone remains stern, their eyes never leave the paper in front of them, and that's all it takes for you to walk over and press your hands firmly on the desk. Yet even with your presence in front of them, Hange's eyes are infuriatingly glued to their work.

"Hans." You called out at last, and to hear Hange's pen drop felt like a victory on its own. That, and the fact that they finally looked you in the eyes after what seemed like hours was enough for you to claim your silent success.

You smirk at their reaction, knowing very well how much of a hold that nickname has on both of you. Hange leans back on the chair after noticing your smug expression.

"You're unfair, you know that?"

"Not as unfair as you, working away like that and ignoring me completely." You walk over behind them, arms wrapped around and face snuggled deep in the crook of their neck, "Come on, snuggle with me in bed, Hans."

"You know, I don't know why, but..." Hange sighs deeply, lost in thought, yet a hand caresses your arm regardless, "That name has such an effect on me. I hate it."

"What name, Hans?" You start kissing the soft skin of their neck, to which Hange shivers at.

"That. Exactly that." Hange sighs yet again before finally standing up, twisting their body to face yours, hand lingering by your arm, "You're having way too much fun with that nickname of mine, aren't you darling?"

"Well, I mean," You let go of them, shoulders gesturing a shrug, "It's kind of attractive."

"You know," Hange says again, grabbing your hand and leading you slowly to your bedroom, "One of these days, I'm going to make you say that in bed–"

"Hange!"

"Oh?" A chuckle escapes Hange’s lips, noticing the switch up, "Why the sudden change of names, hm?"

"You’re so mean to me."

"Maybe. But you make it so fun to tease you."

Soon you settle down in your bed, but not quite done in saying the name once more, almost like a mantra in itself. 

"Hans," You whine, reaching out to Hange who was still looking down at you with amusement in their eyes as you lay comfortably on the bed. Hange soon joins you in bed chuckling at your sleepy demeanor.

"Better be careful and not say that too much in public." A kiss was pressed down your forehead, "It'll ruin the magic, hm?"

“I know, I know,” You snuggle closer to Hange, “It’s a… hot nickname, okay? Get used to it.”

And Hange does, as the days drag on. You’ve both taken a liking to the nickname, and Hange couldn’t be more happy to hear it being said almost every single day. They don’t tire of hearing it even after being used as a last resort when they’re feeling particularly stubborn and impossible to deal with. In fact, they find it endearing. Endearing for the reason that you’ve got them wrapped around your little finger and they can’t quite bring themselves to let go.

They don't dislike the fact that ‘Hans’ is what you usually call them instead of the usual, couple pet names either. They even think it’s more special that way, because you both know it’s just for them. You use it sparsely

You use it when you’re feeling needy, to which Hange will always melt at.

You use it when you’re reunited after losing them in the aisles of the grocery store, to which you’re unaware that Hange strays away from you intentionally just to hear you say that name again.

You use it when you’re sleepy and dazed and can’t be bothered to say their whole name (even if it’s just two syllables). Hange doesn’t mind.

But sleep in peace with the knowledge that whatever name you call them, just know Hans will be running straight into your arms at the end of every day.

[taihua]

The salt is first. 

Shi Qingxuan wakes up on a beach, in the shelter of a tide pool lined by rock and draped with seaweed. The salt is crusted on his lips and in his eyelashes, and it hurts when he blinks his dry eyes open. 

The light hurts as it reflects off the sand and water, and his vision swims in blue and green. The rocks scrape his hands, and the razor edge of a barnacle leaves a red slash over his palm as he struggles to crawl out of the tide pool’s embrace. There’s nowhere to wipe his hand free of salt and blood and sand except for on the formerly pristine fabric of his robes, but he’s past the point of caring about unsightly stains, so he does it anyway before lifting the same hand up to shield his vision from the glare on the water. 

Midday, on a beach that’s… somewhere, though he can’t exactly say where. The shapes of mountains loom inland, peering behind dreary clouds. This must not be the far south, which has white sand and shady palms under which to drink wine, and Shi Qingxuan really, really could use some wine right now given the dryness in his mouth. 

He shouldn’t drink another drop again, should he? Except that he also wants to—wants to drink so much wine that he forgets everything about the Young Lord Who Poured Wine, and everything about the depths of the black ocean abyss. Thinking about it is going to make him scream again, and his throat is already hoarse. Another result of the salt, he supposes. 

Saltwater | T, 2.1k | AO3

[gargoy-ross]

The Vees with a s/o that likes to crochet + how they'd react if you gift them a plush of you two holding hands

First time posting on Tumblr, I know these are probably ooc. Gn reader, a bit suggestive on Val's. That's all, enjoy :)

Vox

Vox doesn't really understand your hobby, but hey, whatever makes you happy. Besides, he loves it when you run to him all giddy and exited to show off your latest creation. He'll let you sit on his lap while you crochet and he works. Just make sure your yarn doesn't get tangled up in the wires...

Giving him the plush

Keeping the gift as a surprise was hard, this man has cameras everywhere, but somehow you managed. And you're quite proud of yourself for that too. Now you're sitting in his office, waiting for him to get back from the meeting. You glance at the clock - it should end right about now.

As if on cue, Vox opens the door and as it slams shut you hear the most tired and annoyed sigh from him.

"Bad time?" You ask.

He shakes his head at the question. "Just a shitty meeting," He practically falls into his chair, "and an even shittier day."

He raises his brows and the annoyance is gone in an instant. "What's that for, doll?"

"I made this. For you." You smile awkwardly as you pass the box to him.

Vox carefully lifts the lid and takes the plush out. He examines it as if he wasn't quite sure what it was. The expression on his screen is unreadable, and his voice quieter than usual.

"You made this? You made... us?"

You nod and Vox's expression softens. He has already forgotten the stress from earlier.

"It's adorable. Thanks doll."

He smiles. Not the business man smile or the TV host smile, a genuine smile.

Valentino

Val thinks it's a waste of time. Why would you sit there, making stupid knots instead of, I don't know, spending time with him?! But, like Vox, if it makes you happy, he'll tolerate it.

Giving him the plush

You decide to present him with the plush one night after he's done with filming. So there you sit, on the couch in one of the backrooms in his studio, nervously fiddling with the gift. When Valentino steps in to the room he's surprised to see you. You don't usually spend time at the studio.

He's voice is ever so sultry when he addresses you. "Well hello sweetheart. Didn't know you were waiting for me." He then notices what your holding and snatches the plush from your hands, a teasing smile on he's face as he toys with it. "Oh my, what's this darling?"

You stand up. He cocks his head, making sure to hold the plush out of your reach.

"It's a gift. I though I'd be nice to give you something."

He's grin widens and he lifts your chin up with one of his hands. "Not exactly my style of a toy, but thank you sweetheart."

Velvet

Velvet would most be the most tolerant towards your yarn hording habits. She doesn't mind, as long as you keep your stuff separate from hers. If you have the talent, she might design accessories which she'll ask you to crochet for her. And, if you agree to it, she will make you a Sinstagram to show off all your creations.

Giving her the plush

Velvet is on her break when you decide visit her studio to give her the gift. You've put the plush in a gift bag hoping it wouldn't raise questions from her employees. While you don't think they'd make fun of you, you know how important the public appearances of you two were for Velvet.

It doesn't take long for you to find her, scrolling on her phone as she picks at her lunch. "I didn't know you were stopping by babe."

"I figured you'd be on your break about now." You say, handing her the bag. "This is for you."

She wastes no time taking the plush out. "Aww, you made us hold hands. It's adorable." She turns it around in her hands examining all the little details you've made. "You even got my outfit on point." She then leans in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm glad you liked it."

She has to soon get back to work, her collections need to be perfect for the next show, so you bid your goodbyes. Later that day you get a notification from your Sinstagram that you've been tagged on a post. You can't help but smile when you see the photo Velvet had posted to show off the plush.

[xoxo-sarah]

The Fair

↝a/n: well this was heart wrenching. ☹️ Why did I decide to write this? I hurt my own feelings with this one, guys.

↝pairing:Daryl Dixon x reader

↝warning: angst, death, season 9 events, Alpha + whispers, the spikes, Daryl never getting his happy ending, it's a bit gruesome ngl, crying, fighting, torture, getting shot, stabbing, self-loathing (Daryl ☹️), more death, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 6.24.24

Daryl Dixon masterlist

The early morning sun shone across the town of Alexandria, although not doing much for how the fall chill nipped at any skin showing.

Daryl glanced up from his spot on the porch, after hearing the door open. You stepped out, face scrunching when the smell of nicotine hit your nose. Daryl simply took in your appearance. Freshly showered, clean clothes, and wet hair knotted into a different style than usual. He took a final puff of the cigarette, before flicking it somewhere off the porch.

As you stepped forward, his hand motioned to your hair, "I tried a different braid. I think it's called a fishtail, I'm not sure though. Needed to practice so I could do something different for the fair." You shrugged, moving to take a seat beside him on the rickety porch steps. His hand raised, feeling the bumps of the braid.

He knew you were excited for the fair, wanting to get out of the walls of Alexandria, and not to do a supply run. You need this; time with friends who feel more like family every day.

Daryl dropped your hair, looking around at the other houses. They were quiet, due to everyone still being asleep. If Daryl hadn't stayed the night, you would probably still be in bed. But you woke up to Daryl, who hadn't slept a wink, due to his stress levels. The whole whisperer thing had him on edge, and it only got worse when Lydia came into the picture. Daryl had been just fine only caring for the people he kept close to him, people who he had known for years. But then came Lydia, who was just a kid. He had needed out; out of Hilltop where Lydia and Henry were. You were his safe space, somewhere he knew he could always go to.

Feeling weight being added to his shoulder, he turned, listening as you whispered into the crisp morning air, almost like talking normally would wake everyone, or disturb the peaceful space of the porch. "She's a good kid. She just doesn't know any better. Alpha, her own mother only taught her survival. It's not Lydia's fault, you know that. Give her time."

"Might not have time." He couldn't help but grumble. He knew you were right, Lydia is a kid. She only knows survival. To an extent, Daryl could relate to her. You lifted your head, looking over his face,

"Maybe, but I have a strong hunch that you have enough time to go wash the stench off of you." Your nose scrunched again, more animated than before.

Daryl rolled his eyes before standing. You watched him as he walked to the door, flipping you off before the door shut behind him. A heavy sigh exited your lips when you knew he was gone.

It had been a little over two days since you last saw Daryl. It's not like you were worried. He could hold his own. Atleast, he could before people who wore the dead's faces were among everyone.

That might have you on edge. Or it might be the fact that he had the thing that Alpha wanted, making him become an even bigger target.

Your fingers divided your hair, twisting it into the same braid from before. Your mind was elsewhere, hands moving without a second thought.

The house that you occupied in Alexandria was quiet. Too quiet. You had grown comfortable with the usual silence, since Daryl had left in search of Rick.

The house you once shared turned into yours, with Daryl only visiting. He never stayed for long. Maybe it was the memories, or something that you had no knowledge of. Either way, you weren't going to push him.

Men like Daryl, once they're pushed too far, they leave. It's like their fight or flight goes off. You weren't one to push.

When Daryl and the little gorup found Lydia, Daryl had to escape for the night, going straight to the familiar house. He had told you everything about the Whisperers and Lydia, how They had killed Jesus. Although her group had killed someone who you could rely on, you pitied Lydia. The moment between you two was short-lived when morning came. After he had taken a shower, he was on his way back. Your time together wasn't much, but it was something. Given the circumstances, it was enough for both of you.

A knock at your door had your trailing thoughts stop, along with your hands. You were quick to tie the braid up, before moving to the door. Daryl stood, shoulders sunk in, along with the bags under his eyes, blood coating his hands. Your eyes met, relief, from seeing him mixed with the concern from seeing the dried blood, ran through your back.

Daryl stood against the kitchen sink, scrubbing his hands together, watching as the water turned red before flowing down the drain. "Henry's hurt." Was the first thing he had uttered since you opened the door, letting him in.

You perked up from where you were perched against the counter, having been watching his movements. "How bad?" He shook his head, letting you know it wasn't life or death, without saying a word.

"Here was closer to get him stitched up. Lydia's with us."

Your eyes traveled over his face, looking for any sign of how he felt about that, and maybe even a hint of how much shit you were all in.

"She's a kid." He sighed, turning the water off as he used your same words from before.

You nodded, hoping he knew that he didn't have to explain himself to you. You trusted him and his instinct.

Now night time, you walked with Daryl and his little group as they got ready to leave. Aaron insisted on walking with you, staying with Daryl as you were in step with Henry and Lydia.

You tried to ask questions that were easy for her to answer, questions that didn't revolve around how she had grown up. Questions that made her feel human, not just a piece in the game of survival.

As your conversation drew to an end, you listened in to Aaron and Daryl, " 'Member way back when I told you, you'd make a great father?" Your eyes traveled to the gravel under you. "You got to skip the exploding diapers part, but I was right."

Henry and Lydia tried to contain their own little conversations, hiding their smiles and blushing from the other. Just two teenagers acting as normal as two teenagers could in the broken world.

Daryl grumbled, "A lot has changed." You felt eyes boring into your back but didn't look. You smiled as you felt Dog rub against your legs, begging for attention. Would you and Daryl be able to be happy in a world like this?

"I stand before you today at the start of a new tomorrow. A tomorrow made possible by the sacrifices of many over the years." After a long ride to the kingdom, you stood amongst the crowd, watching as Ezekiel stood on the balcony, giving one of his infamous speeches.

"Among them, a man whose mission was to build community and strengthen the bonds between us. A man who had to destroy the very thing that connected us in order to save us. It took far too long to fulfill the promise of what Rick Grimes and his son, Carl, envisioned, the same promise Paul Rovia, better known to most as "Jesus", believed in when he brought us all together those many years ago. We always will be. We fought our way back to each other. We have grown. The crossing over the river may be gone, but we have rebuilt a bridge, nonetheless. Today is proof we can unite, not against a common enemy, but for the common good. So eat, drink, and be merry...'cause we got a lotta lost time to make up for."

Jerry stepped forward, a hug grin on his face, "Let the First Annual Inter-Community Reunification Fair begin!"

"Jerry!"

Jerry swung around, looking up at the King.

"We changed that."

"For reals? F. A. I. R. Fair?"

Ezekiel sighed, leaning over the railing to stare down, "It's too many-nevermind. Let the Fair of New Beginnings begin!"

Applause broke out through the crowd, doves being released into the air.

Tara, who stood beside you, nudged your shoulder, directing your attention to the gate of the Kingdom. The gates opened, revealing Michonne- who was set on not coming to the fair- with Judith, Daryl, Connie, Henry, and Lydia in tow.

Your feet moved before you even thought about it, and you were in front of Daryl before you knew it. He opened his arms, welcoming the warmth of your arms around him.

Sure, you had seen him not that long ago, but being apart from him became even scarier over the week. Daryl swayed from side to side, before you pulled away slightly.

Carol came over when you two had fully broken apart, bringing her best friend into her arms.

You smiled, watching the two. After she teased him, she watched as you moved back under his arm, laughing when your lips collided with his cheek, watching Daryl grow shy, his ears turning a pink hue.

"C'mon, I heard there's a fair or something happening." You winked at Ezekiel, as he joined in on watching the two of you, throwing his arm around Carol.

It only took about 15 minutes before the fun was cut short.

"You just got here." you sighed, utterly frustrated. You couldn't have one day that was slightly normal. Somebody always had to be a threat. It just happens to be Alpha's group.

"Hilltop's in danger."

"I know,” You huffed, kicking the asphalt under your feet, stopping when Daryl halted, reaching down to pet Dog's head. "I just think you deserve to have fun too. Or at least let me go with you."

He instantly shook his head, standing at his full height. His eyes slightly squinted as he looked at you, "'T's too dangerous, you know that."

"Exactly. You need more people and you know i'm a good shot." You cracked a smile, trying to ease the tension. Daryl looked away, hiding his slight amusement. "At Least be safe." Your voice was serious, almost threatening. Unwinding your arms, letting them fall to your sides, as he finally looked back. "I mean it, Dixon." He puffed air out, before bringing you into a side hug. You two stood by the gate, not caring as people walked past, trying to get ready to leave with Daryl.

The hug was warm- comforting, too bad you don't get the luxury often. "You too." His gruff voice was muffled in your hair, followed by a dry kiss on your forehead. "Can you take care of Dog for me?" He pulled back, already knowing your answer.

You only got a single nod in before Carol walked over, an apologetic smile on her face about the whole thing; having to interrupt to hint that it was time to go and having to cut your time together short.

Saddiq grunted as Michonne rushed over to his pitiful body. His tired eyes reluctantly raised to look at the people following behind her. As he saw Daryl, the pain felt fresh, like all the wounds were pulled open and dirt was shoved into them. He shook his head, trying to get the picture of your last moment out of his head. Your screams of agony rang in his head. What you made him promise rang even louder. He could only cough when the makeshift gag was ripped from his mouth, waiting as Michonne cut his hands free. "What happened?" Michonne asked.

Saddiq could only point, words dying on his tongue. "I-I..."He stumbled with his feet as much as his words. Michonne held most of his body weight as he tried leading them to the hill.

Michonne's face dropped in horror, as they walked closer, close enough to realize exactly what was in front of them, close enough to identify the heads on the spikes.

All it took was for the wind to pick up, causing the braid to sway in the wind, for Daryl to feel the world stop on its axis. He could only watch as your mouth moved, biting and nipping at the air like a feral animal.

Something that would haunt him forever, the hunger for human flesh taking over the one person he couldn't live without. As you began to let out a growl, he had to turn his head, looking anywhere. He couldn't take the sight, feeling his stomach churn.

You were just in his arms, smiling at him, joking around, wanting to spend the time at the fair with him.

His eyes caught a head of blond hair, his body moving before he could think twice. "No! No!" His hands attached themselves to Carol's shoulders, frantically trying to conceal the gruesome picture before them that would surely give him nightmares, if he was even able to sleep. "Just look at me." His voice broke, but continued to repeat himself.

He watched as her lips pursed, before they began trembling, feeling his own emotions breaking through the comfort-others-before-yourself facade.

His body slowly collapsed with hers, his hold on her not faltering. If he held her tight enough, he might be able to feel the warmth you always radiated in his arms.

Maybe it was selfish to try to find comfort of his own while he was comforting her, but he couldn't help himself. Who was going to comfort him? You?

Daryl wasn't one to cry much, but he felt his eyes begin to burn. Before either of them knew it, their tears mixed together on Daryl's clothes as his grip tightened even more.

"I was there. I was taken with the others. And I saw...I was supposed to die with them. I was ready to." Saddiq stood on the podium, looking out at the crowd of mixed communities, all of which had lost someone dear to them. "Then, Alpha whispered in my ear, "Tell them." Something hit me and everything went black. ANd when I woke up, I was alone." The image of you, tears and blood dried on your face as you laid lifeless. "What happened was evil."

Daryl stood in the very back of the crowd, arms crossed. His own thoughts ran wild, so many 'what if's. What if he had stayed? What if he had let you go with him? What if, what if, what if... Daryl tuned out the rest of the speech, only zoning back in when he felt a shaky hand on his shoulder.

"Y/n..." Saddiq did everything in his power to not let his voice shake, but it was useless. He forced himself to keep eye contact, feeling like he at least owed that, even if his eyes were glossy and his nerves were shot. Daryl had to know. He had to know Saddiq was honest and kept his word for you. "She fought. Hard." The shaky man shook his head.

-flashback-

Siddiq looked around, at the old barn, at the people who stood around wearing the dead’s faces, at his friends and family kneeled down, gagged and tied up.

You stared at the people standing, a fire behind your eyes, that Saddiq had never seen before. He couldn’t recall you even blinking.

As Saddiq watched for you to blink at least once, your eyes shifted from the person you were staring down, to behind them.

It was only a split second before the person you had been staring at was hit in the back of the head.

Ozzy, Alek, and DJ yelled as they swung at each and every masked person. You weren’t sure who untied you, but you didn't have time to see. You were on your feet, punching the closest whisperer to you, picking up the knife that had fallen out of their hands.

Everything turned into a massacre.

You stabbed and swung and stabbed some more. Hearing a yell, you swung around on your feet, grabbing the person holding Enid down, before you grabbed by the back of their shirt, your hands moving fast and with force as the knife punctured the chest repeatedly.

Blinded by rage, you moved on adrenaline.

Large hands grabbed your shoulders, yanking you off of the dead body. You could only watch as a new group of Whispers amerged, and charged at what was left of your group.

Alpha stood in front of you, inspecting you. She moved her hand to your hair, her grin making your blood boil. “Beautiful hair. Shame I have to keep it on your head.” The image of her flashed in your head. The blonde hair, of which you now knew wasn’t real, or wasn’t her actual hair. The thought of her cutting it off of someone made you sick.

She tsked, turning when she saw one of her own push someone into the dirt, their knife raised to strike.

“Stop.” All eyes, including your own, were watching the scene play out. Alpha’s eyes scanned the small barn, bodies littering the ground. “They’re the last two.”

The hands tightened on your arms, but you weren't about to show weakness, not over a few bruises being made. One hand moved to hold you still, as another brought a blade to your neck.

Your nostrils flared, watching as Alpha dragged Saddiq right in front of you, although it didn’t take much force with how his body ached, before she held a knife to his throat too.

“What do you think; should we let them decide on who should die?” Alpha’s words were directed to the man behind you.

Your eyes caught sight of Tara, who laid limp on the ground, blood dripping from her mouth. Clenching your jaw, you looked past Saddiq, straight into Alpha’s soul, or lack thereof, anyway. “Now," Alpha pointed at you, “You’re Daryl’s. I Watched you this morning.” You felt the grip on you tighten even more at the mention of Daryl’s name. “You’re loved by everyone- is he?”

She shifted her crazed eyes to the back of Saddiq’s head. When she didn’t get an answer, she put pressure on the knife, drawing blood.

“Fine!” you croaked, “Fine, kill me. Please, he-he’s important. More than me. Please.”

You turned your attention to the man holding you, “Daryl, he said he beat your ass. Told me all about it. You want to hurt him back, right?” You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but you just hoped they would take it out on you, not Daryl or Saddiq.

Beta growled, his breath becoming erratic, as he looked at Alpha for any signal. He could make one quick move and break your neck, but you knew Alpha wanted you to suffer. She wouldn’t let him have all the fun.

It had to be you. Saddiq had a baby on the way. Rosita had told you, and made you promise to keep it on the down low.

There was a long moment of silence, only the angry hot breath fanning over your head, before you were thrown to the ground, hands tied behind your back again. Alpha made everyone leave, dragging Beta out as he shook in anger, ready to pounce.

When the two were out of earshot, you stared Saddiq down. He began shaking his head, “You can’t-”

“Yes. Yes, I can, Saddiq. Rosita needs you.” The baby needs you, especially in this world. “You have to tell Daryl that none of this was his fault. I know him, he’s going to blame himself and pull away.”

You licked your lips, feeling the dryness and small cracks in the skin. Maybe it was selfish to ask that of him, but it was the only thing you could think of in the moment. You didn’t want your last moments to be thinking of how Daryl will pull away, like he always did when he lost someone. He wouldn’t have you to help him out of it. “Tell him I wouldn't blame him for anything that happened tonight. Please, Saddiq. Please promise me. Just…make sure he’s not so hard on himself. Please-”

A gunshot rang out, followed by your screams. You fell onto your side, blood oozing from the wound on your shoulder. Saddiq’s head swung to where the bullet had come from, Alpha walking back in, handing the gun to Beta as he followed her. Whatever conversation they had had outside left Alpha fuming.

Another scream ripped through your throat when Alpha brought her foot up, putting weight on your open wound. “Why are you so willing to die for him?” She seethed.

“‘Cause that’s what you do for family, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Angry tears welled in your eyes as you stared up at her from the weird angle.

Your next words were directed to Saddiq, as if you knew what was going to happen next. “ Tell Daryl I love him.”

It all happened so quick. Alpha leaned down, her other hand holding a knife as it dragged across the soft skin of your neck. Your hands fought to move to the blood flowing out of your neck, but were bound behind you. Your mouth moved like a fish out of water, until blood coated the inside of your mouth, painting your teeth red.

Saddiq watched the life drain from your eyes, his brain blank. He felt numb. Alpha walked back over to him, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Before he knew it, everything went black.

“-She wanted you to know that she loved you. I could tell she did. I’m sorry it's not her standing in front of you.” Daryl didn’t reply, much like how he hadn’t uttered a word since Saddiq began talking about you, about your last moment. He walked away, leaving a teary-eyed Saddiq.

The wind was chilly as Daryl and Lydia walked up the hill to where Daryl felt the word stop. The spikes still stood, a reminder that that was Alpha’s territory now.

Darl looked away from Lydia as she kneeled in front of the spike, where Henry’s head had been. He let her have a moment.

“She’s just a kid.” Your voice rang out in his head, a reminder that she was a kid, dealing with the loss of someone who she cared for and who cared for her. Sounds familiar.

His eyes caught sight of the familiar spike, glaring at it with all the hatred in his heart. Blood had soaked in and dried to the wood. Your blood.

He hated the world even more. He hated Alpha, Beta, the fucking whisperers, and the wanted to hate you for being so selfless, but he couldnt get himself to. Most of all, he hated himself for going against your last wish. The guilt would eat him from the inside out and he would let it.

He felt like he deserved it.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

People who wanted to be tagged: @vaniniweenie @sassysebastian20

[always-andromeda]

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 2,685

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ A lull in your relationship with Javi leads to some revelations about both of your interests.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ so this was a new one for me. this piece is part of @iamasaddie's kinky writing challenge for May and my pairing was Javi G with impact play. I am happy to report that I enjoyed researching this more than I thought I would? I found some really interesting kink blogs that kind of walked me through safe practices and it started to paint the picture in my mind that would become this fanfic. big disclaimer: I've never practiced impact play in real life. my depiction of it comes primarily from the research I've done and what I know of my own personal preferences and I've tried my best to depict a healthy dynamic. so if I'm getting something wrong or I'm depicting anything in an unhealthy way, feel free to let me know!! divider credits go to @saradika-graphics!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ smut (minors, do not interact), impact play, oral (female receiving), aftercare, pet names (hermosa, baby), reader is given no physical description aside from being able bodied, allusions to past negative experiences with sex (nothing specific is described), a little bit of soft!dom/switch Javi, please let me know if any more are needed!

It’s not that you weren’t satisfied with Javi. The sex had almost always been fine. Hell, most times it was fantastic; better than anything you’d had before. There certainly wasn’t any love lost between you and him. You’d always adore him and the beautiful life you’d built with him by the sea in Mallorca. 

At first you thought it might have been the passing of time that spurred this particular…yearning. After all, don’t most couples go through these patches after a few years? But it quickly became apparent that this wasn’t a fleeting desire. Days passed and you kept going back to the same blog: Impact Play For Beginners.

The first time you’d stumbled across it, you hadn’t paid it much mind. You were looking for ways to spice things up with Javi. But it didn’t seem like him. As your eyes flitted over images of paddles, whips, and canes, all you could think of was how uncomfortable he’d most likely be. The idea of that turned you off, of course.

But you didn’t stay off for very long at all.

Perhaps it was the fact that he felt so safe that made the idea so enticing to begin with. You’d never been with anyone who approached sex as healthily as Javi did. He’d always been fervent with his desires. At the same time, he’d never made you feel like you had to do anything. There was always foreplay, regular check-ins, aftercare, and the ability to say no to whatever, whenever.

It was refreshing. Relieving. And that’s what made it so rough, thinking about possibly bringing something new into the equation. But, Javi had always been big on communication. You trusted that the same principles would apply here. So that’s why you brought it up.

Javi had been open but hesitant about it. At face value, this kink really wasn’t his style. He favored a softer approach. He couldn’t imagine laying a hand on you and causing any sort of harm. But in all honesty…the idea excited you.

The more you looked into it, the more you began to draw some hard lines in the sands of your mind. First and foremost, no toys. As exciting as a crop looked, you weren’t sure if you were prepared for that. At least not yet. For now, you were sticking with the advice of various kink blogs you’d scrolled through and starting off with hands only. Not only were those the instruments that piqued your interest in the first place, they also put you the most at ease. It felt poetic somehow; his usually gentle hands delivering both pleasure and pain this time.

Another aspect you started to delve into were on and off limit body parts. That was the moment Javi set a boundary of his own. “Nothing with your face. I’m not touching your gorgeous face, hermosa,” he’d said with the softest puppy dog eyes. And you didn’t argue. You weren’t feeling comfortable with that either. 

No, you’d start out in the safest zones possible, the places that would be least likely to get injured: your ass and thighs. 

Then came the scheduling. You both agreed on a weekend night just so there was an adequate amount of time for recovery before either of you had to worry about work.

You stand in front of the vanity mirror in your bedroom. Part of you feels like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff as you stare at the lingerie clad figure being reflected back at you. With the night that’s ahead of you, you figured it’d be safest to wear something you’re familiar with sans the bottoms for easier access. It’s a simple chemise that’s comfortable enough, yet it hugs your body in a way that you know both you and Javi enjoy. You try to focus on that thought as you think.

The most reassuring part is that you aren’t afraid. As much as you’d wanted this, you’d also wondered if you would be. Instead you’re all raw nerves. And the electricity thrumming from them only calms when Javi appears in the mirror behind you.

You watch his dark eyes trace over your body in the mirror. It’s a sight he’s seen probably hundreds of times at this point, yet he still looks like it’s the first time he’s laid eyes on you.

“You are so beautiful, hermosa,” Javi breathes out in genuine awe. “Gorgeous.”

Your cheeks warm at the dose of flattery.

Javi’s hands start at your shoulders and you relax into them. The heels of his palms knead the muscles that seem to be perpetually knotted up. You close your eyes and picture that taut tissue slowly and carefully unwinding itself. A small sigh escapes you. It sows hope within you knowing that he’s willing to step out of his comfort zone for this. But it also brings you comfort; he’ll always take care of you just like this. 

“Are we doing okay, so far?” Javi mumbles.

You stifle a small laugh and the urge to say, “We’ve barely started anything.”

Because you know this is new for him. You try to remember that you’re new at this too. Don’t go too far, too fast. Pace yourself, you say internally.

“We’re alright,” you finally assure him.

“Promise me you’ll use your safe word if you need to.”

You meet his gaze in the mirror. He eyes you with furrowed brows and his lips in a thin line. His hands still work at your shoulders; work you into the most soothing rhythm that makes you want to fall asleep. But the fire that fills your bones makes you feel more alive than ever.

You nod and then turn to face him. “I will. I promise.”

Your hands find his cheeks and cup them. In that moment you’re holding your entire world. And you’re trusting him to fulfill some of your most vulnerable fantasies.

Your lips meet his and it all starts to fall together. He’s warm and tastes vaguely of citrus. His hands land on the globes of your ass and he gives them a good squeeze. A moan slowly rises in his throat. If there was one thing you knew Javi was looking forward to, it was paying more attention to that part of you. Besides, there was no way you could miss the way he looked at the pictures on one of the kink blogs you’d scrolled through together. Shots of a woman’s back. Bright red marks in the shape of a hand on her ass. 

His eyes had been so wide, simply staring at them as you read through tips for beginners.

“You wouldn’t want marks like that…would you?” he’d asked then. 

The note of hopefulness in his voice was palpable. He’d never been good at concealing his emotions, especially around you.

“I don’t know…maybe,” you’d replied coyly before admitting, “I kind of like the idea of it. Of having that reminder of you.” As if everything else wasn’t enough. As if you needed to see the evidence of his love represented by blemishes on your skin. That was the thing about Javi though, his whole being was so infectious. You needed him to inhabit every part of your life. You needed to see his handprints on you like you needed to breathe.

Anticipation sends a shiver up your spine as you lay on your stomach along the foot of the bed you share with him. Propped up on your elbows, you arched your back in order to better present your ass to him.

He takes a moment to lean over your form. You already feel a bit of a bulge poke the back of your thighs. At least he’s starting to enjoy himself, you grin.

“Are you ready to begin?” Javi asks. You hum absently only to be met with a brief pause before he adds, “Words, hermosa. Words.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, voice raised louder this time. You don’t see his expression, but you can imagine the way it stutters based on the silence that follows.

Javi thankfully doesn’t leave you with too much time to second guess yourself before you hear his chuckle, “Very good job. I’m already so proud of you.”

He stands again and continues gentle ministrations on your upper thighs. Once again you feel as though you could simply fall asleep. And there’s something secure in feeling like you could. You’re safe. 

A pleasant flush builds on the surface of your skin. You can feel the blood coursing through your veins as Javi warns, “I’m going to give you the first strike. Then we’ll go from there, alright?”

“Alright. I’m ready,” you affirm. And you mean it.

A few seconds later, you feel a light slap on your ass. It’s almost playful. And it doesn’t satisfy the craving within. You start to squirm, hoping to suppress some of the restlessness brewing in your chest.

“Easy, hermosa. Good girls stay patient,” Javi says. You’re not quite used to hearing such language come from him. But it’s perfectly in line with his desire to care for you. It’s how you feel confident that you’re both on the same page. He doesn’t want you overwhelming yourself either. So despite the soft start, you don’t feel any disappointment.

You do what you’re told and stay patient. 

The slaps don’t startle you until one leaves a particular sting that awakens a heartbeat in your core. For the moment it lives, it means everything to you. The initial jolt, along with that expectant throb, subsides a little too quickly for your liking. You fist the silk sheets beneath you just to find purchase in something.

“Keep going like that,” you whisper breathlessly, wanting to chase that feeling to the ends of the Earth.

And Javi lets you. He slaps your ass once, twice, three more times and each one builds the heat that crackles along your flesh like thunderclaps. On the fourth slap you finally gasp a small, “Fuck.” You feel yourself clench around nothing. But Javi still groans as if he was inside you. 

“You like this, hm?” he growls.

“So fucking much,” you whimper.

Smack.

The impact is hard enough that it makes you jump. More importantly, you feel that throb once more. Your belly fills with butterflies as you start to realize that it’s fucking working for you. 

You try to imagine what you must look like from his point of view. Ass up, head bowed, gasping between blows. You bet that based on your position, from where he stands, he’s probably getting a peek at your cunt too. And if it looks anything like it feels, you’ve got to be glistening. You’ve got to have the most inviting look about you. And the fact that that vulnerability still doesn’t scare you…your head feels lost in the clouds.

You feel Javi’s fingers drag over the curve of your ass before they stop just short of your cunt. He says suddenly, “Fuck, I need you. I need to taste you. Please?” he begs. 

All you can manage is a whine along with a swift nod before rolling around on your back. Just as quickly, Javi is on his knees, dragging you down the bed by your ankles until he’s almost face to face with your cunt. You can feel just how swollen your lips are. And as he begins to lap at your slick, you know that you haven’t gotten this wet in a while. It fulfills something inside you that you hadn’t expected.

Your thighs and your ass burn, but it only adds to the pleasure gradually filling your belly. The pain and pleasure come together in a gorgeous harmony that has your hips rocking along against Javi’s mouth. His warm tongue fucks you as your clit rubs against his nose. It’s a classic position that’s only heightened with the knowledge that when you wake up in the morning, his handprints are going to be on your ass.

You’re shamelessly rutting against him now. Fingers knitted through his hair, you ride out the mounting pressure like you’ll die if you don’t. And Javi – being the pleaser he is – enjoys it. Between breaths, he groans, sending vibrations through you that seem to rattle your bones.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whine.

“Mhm,” Javi hums desperately. “Go ahead, you can get there, hermosa. Just use me, please.”

Tears start to slip down the sides of your temples. Flashes of all the men you’ve been with before fill your head. You think of all the times you weren’t in control. All the times you felt you didn’t have a say in what was going to happen to your own body. And those memories only remind you that none of that is true anymore. Right here and right now, you’re with Javi. And he’s indulged in something you would’ve been too afraid to express to anyone else. All he wants is to please you. And that only makes your tears flow faster.

You’re going to combust. Javi Gutierrez is going to make you fucking explode and you don’t even care. You’ve gotten yours. As long as he too gets to feel the impact of his kindness, you’re satisfied.

Just like that, the bomb goes off and you’re on fire as pleasure rips through you. You’re in pieces. Legs wrapped around Javi’s upper half, heels digging into the muscles of his back, and hands keeping him held in place; keeping what’s left of you together in a shaky embrace.

It takes a few seconds for the shock to melt away. Somehow you catch your breath and finally remove your hands from Javi’s curls to wipe away your tears. If you weren’t tired before, you’re exhausted now. More than the physical satisfaction, you couldn’t have foreseen the emotional release. 

Your ass and your thighs don’t quite hurt anymore. It’s more of a soft ache; a rolling wave you ride on until it passes, leaving your head floating in a placid ocean of bliss. This naturally comes with some swirls of catharsis and sentimentality. They both buzz in your mind and you're only distantly aware of it when Javi gets up to wet a washcloth.

When he returns, he cleans you up the way he always does. Asking if he’s alright to touch you in various places and letting you know before he does so you’re not startled. You pay just enough attention to hum in agreement as he carefully parts your thighs to wipe up the remnants of slick and spit. 

Javi finishes the job a minute or two later, leaving once more to add the washcloth to the laundry basket in your closet. Then you feel the mattress dip as Javi lays beside you, looking spent without even taking off a shred of his own clothing.

You return to your own mind for a moment. Enough to turn, lay on your side, and send him a worried look. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby. Do you need me to take care of you?”

Javi laughs lightly, “No. It’s alright, hermosa. You don’t need to take care of anything for me.”

“Are you sure?”

A soft smile forms on his face. “You’re happy, right?”

You nod.

“Good. I’m happy too. We don’t need anything else.”

Javi tenderly places a hand on your lower back and pulls you a little closer towards his chest, his grin growing. “Besides, I can’t wait to see those marks in the morning.”

His expression is so contagious you can’t help but return it before placing a kiss on his nose. “Me neither,” you whisper. Within a few days those marks he most certainly left would start to take on a purple hue before fading into a yellowish undertone. The prospect of seeing that progression fills your stomach with butterflies once more. Surely you both prepared enough that they wouldn’t take long to heal. But that doesn’t bring you down in the slightest. Because as long as Javi is willing to, when those marks do go away, you and him get to make them all over again.

Thank you so much for reading!! If you enjoyed, please consider reblogging; it's massively appreciated!!

[lizzychanstuffss]

Hey! I got a prompt for you: let's say that the reader comes from a place where courting braids are a thing. Their people usually has long hair and it's tradition that someone would braid their SO's hair. Reader is hesitant to bring it up since their former partners never did it because they found it silly or too time consuming. I think Astarion would love the idea of braiding reader's hair and would probably go overboard and come up with complex braids or add decorations into the braid (feathers, beads, jewelry and all that jazz). Baby boy wants to express his creativity and is happy that you trust him with something so important to you 🥺

And if the braid comes undone, oh no what a tragedy, he's just gonna have to do it again! 😉

If it's too silly or too much of a hassle, feel free to say no tho. I just thought it would be so freaking cute ☺️

This so cute omg I need to write this.

Astarion x Tav!reader GN

set post-game so spoilers

Requests still open!

Finally, after all the adventures of mind flayers and tadpoles, you were happy to finally settle down with your lover. Astarion was happy with the predicament too, even if you also wanted to find a way for him to walk in the sun again...but he suggested you should take a break first, or else your body might start falling apart.

So you took his advice and the two of you had been taking things slow for the past few months. You two had the rest of forever to find a way for him to be in the sun again, there wasn't a real rush. So with that in mind you finally started wearing your hair down more often, it was already rather long but the length really showed now that it wasn't tied up or braided to keep it out of your face.

But there was one thing you couldn't stop thinking about. It was something that was prominent in the area you grew up in and was something you hoped you would be able to continue with whoever you ended up in a relationship with. But considering your relationship with Astarion was forged in the midst of chaos it was never really the time to bring it up to the vampire.

But tonight the man saw you looking over a book. It had instructions for several different styles of braids but all of them were too complex for you to do yourself. You hadn't even noticed that Astarion had been behind you until he placed his hands on your shoulders giving you a peck on the cheek. His eyes glanced over the page and it instantly caught his attention.

"My, my what's this?" His knuckle stroked the page inquisitively. Looking up at him you smiled.

"Ah just some braids, where I'm from there was something called a courting braids..." You trailed off a bit slightly embarrassed at the thought of it. Astarion gave your shoulder a slight squeeze urging you to continue.

"Uhm well, when two people are courting one of them will braid the other's hair...it's a bit silly saying it out loud" You look away from him as you speak only to have him gently move your chin to face him, a frown formed on his face as he spoke.

"Darling, it's not silly if it's something you care about...and frankly it sounds rather fun" He paused. "Would you like me to try one of them?"

"Well, if you want to?" You smile up at him and suddenly Astarion seems so excited. The two of you get into a more comfortable position so he could properly do your hair. He gets to work looking at the guide for the braid and twisting your hair gently into the shape on the page. Once he's finished Astarion marvels at his work quite satisfied with himself.

"Oh my I do say you look rather dashing in this style" He chuckles before grabbing two hand mirrors handing you one and he holds the other to get a good look at the intricate braid. His handiwork is honestly remarkable, must have been from his skills in embroidery  transferring over to another.

"You did a wonderful job Astarion~" You smiled as you looked at it. Turning to face Astarion, he was still rather excited by this new found talent he had discovered and it gave you an idea. "How about you do another more complex one?" Suggesting to him and his eyes seemed to light up at the prospect.

"Are you sure?" His eyes were filled with a sense of light at the prospect but he couldn't help but ask if it was really alright. He was still cautious about such things but you couldn't blame him, it’s not like though healing from trauma was a one fix all. Of course you give him an enthusiastic nod.

Then the man sets off to work trying another braid from the book, something much harder to replicate for certain. As you sit there his hands playing with your hair is a rather soothing experience, it takes a while but eventually he finishes this one. It's slightly rougher as he is still getting used to the process, but it demonstrates such skill and talent regardless.

-

Over the next weeks, Astarion continues to braid your hair. Sometimes he puts in flowers or ribbons or whatever other decorations he thinks would look nice against the color. Today he chose a more simplistic braid instead of his normally complex art pieces. But as you went about your day the braid ended up coming undone.

You were a little distraught as all his hard work became undone. Upon seeing this Astarion wasn't upset at all in fact.

"Oh dear~ such a shame I have to braid it all again" His voice was dripping with sarcasm and sass. Scoffing a bit in response to obvious tease, but then sitting in front of him.

"Alright, let me see what I can do" he smirks a bit letting the hair fall where it may and then getting started on something a bit more secure. As he works his magic looping the hair in on itself, adding a ribbon to help keep it in place.

Once he was finished he proudly showed off his work, a smile making its way across your lips as you take in his work. "You are quite skilled at this, love.” Turning to him you gave him a gentle kiss which he reciprocated in kind.

[dilucsflame33]

I just had this idea! Though um if you up for it. It can be NSFW. Its how the turtles will react to an innocent S/o who unknowingly made a naughty joke. She never makes these jokes as she had no idea how!. Also she had accidentally texted the joke!.

Well oops on her part👀

This be how they react after that almost awkward text chat when she arrives at the lair. Thats all i can think of for now. This is gonna be good. Work your magic!

Innocent Turned Naughty 🔥

Ohh, honey, I have been waiting for this! I decided to do it head cannon style, so we're going with that. I hope this to your liking. Some of these aren't really jokes, just messages that could go into two ways. Obviously they took it to the deep end because they're men. 😂

🔞 Warning 🔞 NSFW 18+ Only

Dirty talk and some crack because we all need humor. 👌🏻

Your turtle terrapin was relaxing in the lair when his phone buzzed at a random. He would usually do his favorite type of activity during these times, so relaxing on the couch was a new norm he would get used to.

When he opened the message, however, was when his eyes widened at the message you've just sent to him.

• "Wanna go to the dojo and give me a private lesson?"

• Mouth dropped, eyes wide

• Went complete shut down

• This poor man doesn't know what to do

• But he will admit that he's intrigued

• You are his innocent, little blossom. Why did that line made his heart race?

• He doesn't text back

• That man calls!

• When you picked up, however, you were all cheerful as ever.

• "You do realize what you have done, right?"

• Confusion on your end, until he told you about the message you've sent. You started panicking.

• "O-Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry! I was actually wanting to do some training since you have an off day. So I thought that you could teach me."

• Awkwardness falls.

• Leo rubbed his face, completely embarrassed about thinking of such things of you like this.

• "I apologize, blossom. I kind of went to the deep end." He chuckled nervously as he looked around the room, hoping no one heard their conversation.

• "Oh, no, you're fine! I mean," you paused as you brought up the last bit of courage you have. "I was actually like to have a lesson, if you know what I mean." He could hear that teasing tone, even though your voice wavered a bit.

• *Que Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen* Mother, I've just killed a man.

• He took in a deep breath, exhaled slowly. "I was going to let you off the hook but, since my little one wants to tease, I expect you down here in 20 minutes. Do you understand me?"

• He laughed when he heard you scurrying around your apartment. This is going to be fun.

• "Bench press me?"

• The man was shooketh to the core!

• Had to placr his phone down just so he could breathe.

• That text can go into different ways and he's thinking of the naughty kind.

• Oh, he can bench press you alright. He'll press you into a mating press, that's what he will do!

• Another vibration was heard and he looked the text. It was from you.

• "I'm so embarrassed. I just realized on what it sounds like and I'm so sorry!"

• He ain't having it. Oh, heck naw! You've poked the bear and you're gonna get the grizzly.

• Eat you up until there's nothing left, babe!

• He called you.

• "H-Hello?" You spoke with uncertainty. He hasn't responded until he called. You're a little nervous right now.

• "What kind of pressing are we talking about here? Cause all I'm thinking of is you, in a mating press, and you screaming my name until my brothers complain about the noise."

• You've just died happy.

• "Teach me some anatomy, love? 🥰"

• Donnie raised a brow as he read the message you've just sent.

• Anatomy, huh?

• "Which part of anatomy?" He replied back as he continued to read until you've messaged him back.

• "Reproductive system."

• His brain short suricated.

• "And the muscles and tendons. To see what they do if they go passed their limits."

• Oh, he's trying so hard not to go to the deep end. But it's hard to when the conversation is like this!

• He called.

• "Darling," he replied when you've picked up his call. "Re-read what you've just said to me."

• You were confused until you've spoke the message out loud. He can't help but smirk when he heard your voice being covered by your hands. "Now, to answer your question. I will teach you, but it's best if I could demonstrate. If you don't mind."

• He laughed when he heard you scream out away from the phone. Oh, this is entertaining.

• "Which type do you prefer? Sweet or spicy?"

• Mikey pondered in thought. "I like sweet!"

• "Sweet is nice, but I like to have some spicy. ^^"

• Oh, you all know where this is going.

• This man has a dirty mind, so don't be surprised when he replied something naughty in return.

• "Ooh, spicy, huh? I will definitely spice things up, if you know what I mean." He sent a smirking emoji after that.

• You were a blushing mess when he sent that smirk emoji.

• "That's not what I meant!" You replied with a blush.

• Mikey chuckled as he called you.

• When you answered however, he groaned deep from within his chest. "Angel, if you want spicy, I definitely got the spice! Come over here and have a taste!"

• But what shocks him was when you replied back.

• "Oh, really? You're big talk, baby. Give it to me then."

• Now it's his turn to blush. He didn't expect you to counter back like that.

• "Come over and I will!" He challenged.

• He could hear keys and a door slam. Oh, you're serious!

• Let's just say the man rushed to his room and done a quick clean up.

Tags:

@turtle-babe83 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @happymoonangel @hotredphoenix @pheradream15 @scholastic-dragon @tmnt-tychou @thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @turtlesmakemehappy @nittleboo @fyreball66 @akesdraws-blog @rin-rin-winter @ashleighclark98 @sharpwindow

Here's my Master List!

🔞 REBLOGS ONLY, NO REPOST 🔞

[fictionobsession]

devotion

Pairing: Alastor x f!Reader

Summary: She would give anything for him.

Word Count: 1,997

Warnings: blood, canon typical violence, Alastor being psychotic

A/N: okay friends, first time writing for Al. this was not beta'd or really edited at all so if something seems weird just... assume I meant to fix it. also, this was written as a QPR, but there's a little feelings on reader's side if you squint. I'm not 100% on how in character this is for Alastor, but we tried and that's what matters right

---

She plopped onto the shitty couch and pulled her knees to her chest, looking around the shitty house where they'd been hiding out in the middle of this shitty swamp for the last two shitty weeks. The wallpaper was peeling and yellowed, the floors covered in mold and mildew, the running water only worked half the time, and, more importantly, the refrigerator was empty as of six nights prior. Her stomach rumbled just thinking about a nice juicy cut. She sighed, closing her eyes and allowing herself to sink into the daydream of food.

She knew when she'd gotten into this hobby with Alastor that there was a non-zero chance she would wind up on the run someday. She just wished they could have put it off a bit longer, had a bit more fun. She laid her head back against the rotting couch until she heard the creak of the floor near the front door.

Her eyes snapped open and her brows furrowed as she took in Alastor's hunting attire.

“Al, where do you think you're going?”

“Well, my dear, unless you feel like us both starving to death in this dismal abode, I thought I'd better go get some food.”

“Alastor. You know we've heard the dogs nearby. You can't possibly go out there without getting caught, at least until we've had a couple days where we haven't heard 'em.”

“Again, starving is not on my agenda, so we don't particularly have another choice.”

Another choice. Her face hardens as she realizes what another option might be. She stood up and crossed the room, grabbing Alastor's arm before he could open the door. “There is a way for us to make it out of this without you leaving. Or rather, a way for one of us to make it out of this.”

He hummed, and she could see the wheels turning as he put together what she was implying. “I'm not sacrificing myself for you to get away, you know.”

“I know. That's why I'm just asking you to get it over with quickly. You'll get more time, and I – well, I'll at least get to go out on my own terms. If I have to go, at least it'll be for you.”

His eyes widened just a bit, more reaction than she'd usually get, before he shrugged. “Okay. Painless it is. Not usually my style, but I think I can figure it out.”

She laughed, a genuine, full laugh. “I know, Al, and that's why we've worked out so well. But I think you could at least do that much for me.”

He pulled his hunting knife from where he had already slid it into his belt. “Are you ready?”

And with one nod, everything went black.

-

It seemed instantaneous, appearing in hell. She looked around, taking in the chaos around her. Literal dumpster fires, public sex, casual street murders, Hell had it all. Of course, arriving in Hell wasn't a surprise for her. You don't kill that many people and expect to get into Heaven. She wasn't even sure she had believed in the whole afterlife thing until she was experiencing it. She shrugged it off, finding the closest place with a mirror she could use for free.

Her body was... different, certainly. But intact, and honestly, she was quite happy with it. Given the various types of demons she'd seen just in her brief time there, it could've been a lot worse. She wandered, putting together a plan of action for getting herself set up in Hell. It seemed she would need income to make most things happen, which made finding a job a top priority. She also needed a place to sleep, as it seemed unsafe at best to stay on the streets.

She got a job fairly quickly at Ozzie's, though she wasn't thrilled with the outfit they made her wear for the whole thing. But it was money, and easy work, so she stuck with it. Asmodeus offered her a fairly decent rate on rent nearby, as well, so she could have done worse.

Shortly after getting settled, she started feeling pressure on her body in random locations and at seemingly random times, almost like someone was grabbing or poking her to get her attention. Occasionally she'd get hot spots, which she at first attributed to it being hot in Hell. Little scrapes and cuts would appear sometimes as well, but they always healed up quickly. It wasn't until the final time it happened that she realized what had been happening over the past few weeks.

A perfect bite imprint appeared on her forearm, accompanied by a sharp pain, and she realized it must have been an effect of Alastor in the living world. She traced her finger over the mark, which had healed into almost a scar, but not quite. It was a bit pink, but wasn't angry and fresh. She smiled a little to herself, happy that her sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

As time went on, she found herself tracing the mark when she was feeling stressed, upset, or particularly lonely. It never healed all the way, making it always a bit sensitive to touch, and served as a reminder of why she was here. The mark always made her feel closer to Al, which brought a little comfort when things got crazy.

She had managed to stay within the same few blocks that she knew were heavily policed by Asmodeus's people. However, six months into her stay in Hell, she finally had to leave her little neighborhood to buy some things for the bar. She packed her gun, a knife, and made sure she was dressed inconspicuously – the rumors about the surrounding areas were very...detailed...about what might happen to someone who ended up on the wrong side of a fight.

Unfortunately, her preparation didn't keep her from getting spotted by some Sharks outside the store as she started back toward her apartment. She tried to hurry, sliding between demons and other sinners, before slipping down an alley to attempt to lose her tail. It was too late by the time she realized it was a dead end, and the Sharks started cutting off her only entrance.

She took one step, two, keeping them in her sight until her back hit the brick wall behind her. Her hand reached for her gun, ready to pull it when the lead Shark got close enough. Their glares were paralyzing, and she could smell the smoke and alcohol on them at that distance. She felt herself start to shake, taking a deep breath to steady herself before -

“You wouldn't want people to think you're picking on those of fairer means would you?” The sound and feeling of static crackled through the air like lightning as a dark shape enveloped the opening to the alleyway. A long, thin shadow ripped through the air, straight through the lead Shark, throwing him against the side of the neighboring building.

Green sparks shone through the seemingly infinite blackness, a pair of what could only be described as antlers growing from the approaching shape. Two more tendrils, picking up the remaining Sharks and tossing them into the air like dolls. She wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't look away from the gore. Sure, she had seen a lot of violence in her time in Hell, but she hadn't seen that level of overkill in quite some time.

As the last of the Sharks fled only to get a tendril through the skull, she pressed herself as far into the corner as possible, sliding down the wall and pulling her knees to her chest. There was only the hope that the demon forgot she existed, and the knowledge that if he hadn't, she would likely be next up for second death.

The shadow approached, darkness fading as he got closer until finally it revealed a man. A tall man, with horns, but just a man, nonetheless. He was straightening out his red coat, and twirling something around in his hands as he approached. “Always good to have an excuse to let off a little steam. Always good.”

He put a hand out to help her up. As she lifted herself off the ground, he was already vaguely shaking her hand, introducing himself. “Name's Alastor, pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure.”

His name hit her ears about the time he caught a glimpse of her bite, and both stopped dead in the middle of introductions. She looked up, eyes widening as she realized that yes, that was a microphone, and yes, in fact, it had been quite a while since she'd seen that level of overkill, one could even say since her living days. He looked different now, sure, but as soon as she looked into his eyes, she knew that was her Al.

“Well maybe don't wait so long to come save my ass next time, eh, Al?” She smirked up at him, waiting for him to process what was happening. His nails traced the pattern of his own bite on her arm. She caught sight of his tongue tracing across his teeth, as if he was just then realizing how different they'd really become. “I bet your imprint looks a bit different now, doesn't it?” She spoke more to herself than to him as she reached to pull her sleeve down over the mark.

“Why, I should hope so, my dear. I should very much hope so. Let's see just how much it's changed then!” Without any more warning than that, he pulled her arm to his mouth and bit, hard. The new mark bled, sure, but it healed up more quickly than it probably should have, covering his old impression with his new one. His ears twitched subconsciously, his ever-present smile nearly faltering as he watched the blood drip, drip, drip down her arm. He shook himself out of whatever thoughts were distracting him rather quickly before acting like no time had passed at all since they'd been together last. “Now, I don't think I should leave you alone again. It seems to me that you still can't stay out of trouble, my dear! Come along, let me show you where I've been staying!”

“But – Hang on! Al! I've got to go to work!”

“Ah, there'll be no more need of that anymore. We'll send a notice to... whoever you're working for when you get settled.” He raised an eyebrow, practically daring her to argue. She knew, though, that she'd never gone against what he'd wanted before, and she didn't particularly want to start now. She took the elbow he'd offered her and allowed him to lead her out of the alley.

Occasionally, as they walked, she would catch sight of a shadow that seemed to be following them.

“Oh, don't mind them. They're just keeping an eye on your wellbeing. You better get used to it! Having a friend like me, why, other overlords will just be dying to get their hands on you!”

She scoffed, a look of adoration crossing her features before she tactfully replaced it with annoyance. “I'm not going to get any rest now, am I?”

“Oh contraire, ma cherie! You're going to get everything you've ever wanted and deserved. I owe you that after what you did for me up there, wouldn't you say?”

“Oh I just can't wait to show you Cannibaltown! You've got to meet Rosie, yes. You'll get along very well, very well indeed. And she makes the most delectable little treats! Maybe we'll go by tomorrow.”

As he continued rambling, she hummed approval when appropriate, watching him out of the corner of her eye with a mix of caution and longing. As he led her down streets she'd never seen before, she realized maybe this was all her afterlife had needed after all.

[buboplague]

hello. i'm an art nerd and as such do art nerd things like study art. you are one of my favorite artists for your smooth and organic lines. is your style of line work something you've developed unintentionally over time or is it a matter of intention and technique? ive noticed you're able to do a lot with very little, which is something i strive for in my own art. happy late easter if you celebrated btw

oh this is an interesting question! I've never really stopped to think about this before.

I think it's a bit of both, but mostly unintentional and developed over time as a characteristic of the way I prefer to draw.

I draw quickly, erase minimally, like continuous lines, and enjoy the actual physical feeling of drawing messy, and I think that's helped me be more confident in my lines in general and contributes to how it looks. Being precise and accurate is usually not my goal, so it's ok if something is off (please never flip my sketches haha). I like the way drawing like this feels.

But there are also a lot of styles I love that use fluid lines, like ukiyoe art and artists inspired by those same styles, or others' quick gestural drawings. Seeing those inspire me to stay loose, or not care about accuracy, simplify things, etc, and folding these concepts it into my work is intentional, because it loops back into enjoying the way it's done. I don't really have much advice or technique for how to achieve this deliberately because I guess I'm not really sure myself LOL but based on how I approach things myself, these are tips to try (which it looks like you're doing some already!):

draw with pen on paper. If you mess up just go with it, or try again from the beginning. Don't get hung up on erasing and fixing things, just keep drawing

practice speed, with timed gesture drawing or other methods of practice you're comfortable with; try it without picking up the pen

turning stabilization off while drawing digitally for a more natural line (entirely subjective, but stabilization trips me up so bad and feels weird)

draw from life. It can be random objects around the house, or random photos, but draw things you normally wouldn't - train your hand to follow your eye, as this will help you see the way you use line, and is an easy way to practice what kinds of lines you want without getting hung up on idea generation, or if the character looks right, expectations, etc.

It's okay to be impatient and lazy sometimes LOL. Sometimes doing the bare minimum helps you to learn where you want to simplify or stylize things. "Good enough" is also a pretty useful catchphrase sometimes

I hope something in this post helps! And sorry if it doesn't, I'm not very good at articulating my own art or thought processes.

Thank you for your kind words and for enjoying my work. happy late easter!

[faeble-drabbles]

Hello! I could go for some NSFW poly Vegeta x reader x Bulma 👀 maybe a one shot where the reader is a bit insecure about her looks compared to Bulma (bc let’s be honest she’s super hot)? Thank you 😁

I've been wanting to respond to this one for a while //sobs But work training has been kicking my ass lol (Imagine going from potato lifestyle to immediate athletics work + kids)

So I'm still a bit tired so I can't do a full one shot story style, but I WILL do my usual headcannon style!

NSFW under the cut so MINORS DNI - 18+

•°• VEGETA x Insecure!Reader x BULMA •°•

+ Imagine you all had gone to a beach trip the week before. You were ready to stun your two lovers in the new swimsuit you picked out. But all that confidence went out the window when Bulma came out in her bikini looking absolutely gorgeous.

+ Ever since the trip you got a bit distant and it was starting to show little by little. Bulma and Vegeta had not a single clue why you would be upset, especially after such a nice vacation. It wasn't until they notice you staring solemnly at your reflection in a full body mirror that Bulma got a hint. Vegeta on the other hand needed some explaining.

+ Bulma would slip into the room behind you, wrapping her arms lovingly around your body. "What's with the sad face? You're looking at such a beautiful figure~ What is there to frown about?"

+ At first you tried to jokingly brush it off and tell her you were fine, but Bulma has her ways of getting the answers she wants. It wasn't long before you admitted to her how you felt...lacking in comparison. Bulma was both flattered and upset when hearing this. She was happy you felt so highly about her physique, but not if it meant shaming your own figure.

+ A small smirk appeared on Bulma's face as she hatched an idea. Her hands began to roam over your body. "I think all of you is stunning...your legs...your hips...I especially love these" As the words trailed from her lips, her hands traveled underneath the fabric of your top and began to massage your breasts.

+ You moaned and squirmed as she worked your breast with one hand as the other began to slip downward into your panties. "I think this part of you is quite beautiful too..." She purred before slipping her fingers between your folds.

+ Bulma would then turned you to face Vegeta (Which caught you off guard, how long had he been standing there??) tugging your clothes out of the way so she could put you on display for the prince. "Anything you'd like to say to our beautiful lover??" Vegeta just let out a grunt in response as he stepped forward. He definitely was not the type to show his affection with words, but he had other ways of showing it.

+ You were perfectly sandwiched between the two of them. Vegeta had captured your mouth in an intense make-out session and had wedged his thick thigh between your legs to grind on. Meanwhile Bulma was continuing her ministrations with your breast with one hand and toying with your clit in the other as she nibbled on your neck.

+ It didn't take long before your orgasm hit you hard, causing your body to shudder between the two of them as you rode it out. Vegeta gave you a smug look as he tilted your chin up at him. "Don't think we are done just yet..." You heard Bulma chuckle behind you as she leaned her head on your shoulder. "Oh definitely not...We are going to show you how much we love this body of yours...even if it takes all night~"

+ Prepare for a night of body worship and a LOT of orgasms.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for using very harsh words after trying to defend my sister?

So, me (17F) have a little sister (14F) and we study on the same school. My sister is usually very shy, but a very fun kid to be around when you meet her. She's kind, smart and very funny. She knows how to fight when she has to protect someone (me, our cousins, etc) because she is a very loyal person, but she doesn't know how to even yell when someone fights to her. She gets embarrassed easily and gets nervous, she chooses to ignore.

She's chubby (which it doesn't make her any less beautiful) and she already faced some unfunny jokes from other people before, which made her insecure about her body, but something so serious never happened to her... Until two weeks ago. So, I was hanging around with my friends, going back to my classroom when the school break was over. But one of my sister's little friend came to me and told my sister was crying in the bathroom and didn't wanted to get back to class.

My heart skipped a beat and I ran straight to the bathroom. When I got there, my sister's nerd little friends were all around her trying to talk to her, and she was there: her head hidden in her hands and hipcupping so much she couldn't even talk to me. One of her friends told me there was a girl in her class (let's call her Amanda) that was bullying her for at least a month, but now Amanda got worse: she called my sister an ugly cow in front of the whole class and said my sister's ginger hair looks bad. And Amanda also put chewed gum in her hair. Man, my vision got red. I was out of the bathroom before anyone could stop me and the only thing I heard was my sister telling me to don't go. But it didn't matter. That friend (the one that came to me to tell me about my sister) was following me and told which one of the kids walking to the classroom was Amanda. When I laid my eyes on Amanda, I realized that I've seen her around the school halls before. I know her kind: those young girls that are not even on highschool but try to act older. Using long ass nails and talking loudly about inappropriate things so she can be that girl. I tapped her back, she turned to me and I said "Are you the bitch bothering [my sister's name]?" and... Well, that's when the chaos began.

Basically, all the kids from her class and other classes were watching it all. Amanda was still acting all tough and saying she was just joking, that my sister was too weak to handle the truth and told me to fuck off. I also said some shit to her (I'm not gonna say some words because I think is inappropriate even for tumblr, but the least offensive thing I said was that she needed to grow tf up. And I called her a whore). But there was something that now is a water divider. Amanda is black and has a afro hair, that's always in a Black Power style. and I'm not racist. Never been. I don't even know what happened in this specific moment, but I was so done with her attitude that I think maybe I lost my head a bit? Amanda was trying to play victim saying I was making this a big deal. My sister's friend (that was having my back the whole fight) threw in Amanda's face that she got gum stuck on my sister hair, and Amanda said "yes, and? What she [and proceeded to point at me] gonna do about that, huh? try to stick gum in my hair too?" and I said "I don't need the gum, a comb can do the work already. Can you even pet your head without losing your hand?"

For a moment is like everyone went silent.

And the in the next moment, Amanda was screaming her lungs in the hall, yelling "fuck you". And said "not so fun when somebody makes fun of your hair now, right bitch?". Anyway, the teaches broke up the fight, everyone went back to class (and gladly my sister went back to class with no problem, her friends had her back). Amanda got detention and the principal will have some serious talk with Amanda and her mom (that wasn't any happy about her daughter behaving like a bully). Like I said, that was two weeks ago. Everything went to normal but some people still talk about it. My friends say that I am right, but they're saying I should be more careful next because what I said was racist. I didn't even realised how bad that sounded until now, because when the fight was happening, I could only thinking about different ways I could jump in her throat. My other friend said that he thought it was good that I said that, because, racist or not, now the girl will think twice before hating someone's hair too. My teacher (one of the teachers that broke up the fight) said she was at my side, but that I should be more careful because I I ran the risk of losing my reason.

Now I'm seriously thinking, I'm feelling kind of guilty now. Was I the asshole or not? Saying that was a bad move, even if my intention was just making her taste her own medicine?

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Future Chapters : Available on Ao3

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 1: Your eyes are swallowing me

Chapter title is lyrics from "Sleepwalking"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I'd be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed him. 

So maybe I did take a little longer to get ready when I knew he'd be around; maybe my skirt was suddenly pulled up just that little bit higher than usual; maybe I loosened a button or two, but it's not like I was delusional enough to believe I ever had a shot with the man.

I was just an assistant. 

I did the menial tasks that usually went unnoticed. But sometimes when I came back with food he'd flash me the most wicked smile as he took it off me.

"Ta, love", and a shiver would run through my body.

It was the night after a big set in London, an apartment style hotel room had been booked for the whole band with a shared common space. The place had clearly been picked as a bit of a party accommodation to celebrate the tour. It was quite posh, lavish furniture, open planning, and a great view. All the things you'd expect of an expensive hotel. 

Everyone had gotten a bit too drunk tonight, and it was part of my job to make sure they got to bed to catch a flight tomorrow, so I was the only sober one here. 

It was also my job to make sure the alcohol kept flowing, the right guests were let in, and taxis were ordered. 

Despite how busy I was, I kept catching myself staring at him. I couldn't help myself, he was always such a delightful mess after a concert; dishevelled hair, smeared eyeliner, a bit sweaty – a wonderful mix of tired and happy. Essentially he always came off the stage looking like he'd just finished having some really good sex.

I shook my head, realising I'd been staring again.

Hopefully he hadn’t noticed.

The night went by in a blur of busy tasks. Suddenly it was four in the morning, I had just finished getting everyone to bed and all the guests out of there. I sighed deeply at the state of the place and began the daunting task of cleaning up. 

That's when I saw him across the room.

The lights were dimmed low as I’d been strategically turning them off throughout the night in the hopes that it would make everyone sleepier, so I was only able to make out the silhouette of a man.

He was sprawled on the sofa, legs spread and leaned back, but I could tell it was Oli – his long, fluffy hair is unmistakable.

"Oh fuck, Oli you scared the living shit out of me."

That was probably the longest sentence I'd ever dared say to him, as I was usually too flustered to form proper sentences, but the sheer exhaustion from the night and the adrenaline from surprise got the better of me.

I heard a laugh from the dark figure on the sofa, "Sorry love I didn't mean to scare you, but I'm not ready to sleep just yet." You could hear the words had been spoken with a lazy smile.

Suddenly I was very aware of the fact that we were all alone, and he sounded... 

No, I didn’t even dare think it.

He's just tired and drunk, surely that's the only reason he sounds so...

"R-right. Just remember we've got a flight tomorrow."

I could see his head tilt to the side as he contemplated what I’d said, but he clearly decided he didn't give a fuck, as his response came unbothered, completely ignoring my comment, "Get me another drink will you?"

Suddenly the walls felt as if they were closing in. I was nervous to say the least. I had never been alone with him before, and for some reason it felt weirdly intimate despite him being all the way across the room.

I didn't know how to respond beyond simply following his order, so I shakily turned around and walked over to the dining room table where all the drink bottles were lined up, while being entirely too aware of his gaze on me from behind. 

There was a rustle of fabric like he’d gotten off the sofa, followed shortly by the sound of his footsteps behind me by the table. 

I didn't get a chance to properly digest what was happening before his hands were firmly gripping my hips, making me gasp, the impact almost making me fall forward. Instead I instinctively braced myself against the table, nearly knocking over the half empty liquor bottles there.

My heart began racing, threatening to jump out of my chest, as I felt his hard cock clearly through the fabrics between us, pressing against my ass as I was pinned to the table. His hand quickly moved to my throat to prevent me from falling forwards further, as if he didn’t want me bent over, using it to guide my head close to his.

I was surrounded by him.

His scent, his hair falling into my view, his lips against my ear, his breath against my cheek, the hand on my throat possessive and firm. I was contorted, pinned painfully between the table and his warm body behind me as I was being held up by his grip.

His lips parted gently against my ear, and spoke in a tone I can only describe as carnal, "I get lonely you see, and I've noticed you noticing me. You want me, yeah?”

He had noticed after all.

I swallowed, hard.

“Will you nod for me love if you want me."

My heartbeat promptly moved between my legs.

I do want him – oh god do I want him. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

But his request was so much more than a search for knowledge of whether I wanted him or not, it was an inquiry of approval, a probing of whether I’d allow this to happen, or if we part ways here before anything further happens.

I nodded against his hand around my throat, causing his breath to speed up.

His lips spread into a smile against my ear, "Let’s have some fun then."

I was wearing a simple, strappy, mini dress so his hair fell onto my bare shoulders as he kissed my neck, his warm breath fanned my skin. My eyes shut from the delightful sensations, and I began mindlessly moving my hips against him, causing his grip on me to tighten.

"Ah, you like that don't you?"

I nodded again, probably a bit too eagerly. 

He chuckled, which I felt as a puff of warm air against my neck more than heard. His mouth returns to my ear, speaking lazily like a predator toying with its prey, "You're so fucking desperate for me, aren't ya?" 

My eyes flew open. I nodded again, slower this time, feeling exposed.

The truth is that I am desperate; desperate enough daydream about him constantly, to touch myself at night when I was all alone, imagining all ways I want to be fucked by him. In fact, I’d grown quite attached to using all my perverted thoughts about the man as a distraction from my life, from everything I’ve been through lately.

From pain.

"I bet you're soaking, I bet you have been all night." His grip on my hip relaxed, turning into a caress, moving towards the hem of my dress, lifting it slightly as his fingers trailed closer to my pussy. 

His voice darkened and intensified, "I reckon you've ruined your underwear just being near me." 

Then his hand finally reached my pooling wetness and my body immediately went electric, my knees buckled and my mouth fell open with a gasping, desperate moan as my hands mindlessly grabbed at his strong arm holding my throat to steady myself.

The hand that had just caused my brain to short circuit from a simple touch to my core, quickly retracted away to yank me back up from slumping over. 

"Sh, sh, sh, you're gonna have to be quiet or you're gonna wake the lads, can’t have that, can we?" He whispered playfully.

I just wanted him back between my legs, so I spoke, in such a desperate tone that I surprised myself, "I–I'm sorry, p--please, please don't stop."

His grip on me loosened to pull the skirt of my dress up to my waist, and slide my underwear down. I felt them pop over my ass before falling to my ankles on the floor. 

"We don't need these anymore." He muttered behind me as he returned to feel my pussy, this time without the soaking fabric stopping him. I felt his forehead on my shoulder as he moved along my folds with intent, his breath coming faster.

"To be honest with you love, I'm pretty fucking desperate too." Then he pushed two fingers into me and I was suddenly fighting for dear life not to moan. 

I gripped the table again to stay upright, willing my body to behave. The last thing I wanted was for him to stop.

His mouth replaced his forehead on my shoulder, kissing me with parted lips, biting slightly every so often, his hips pushed back into mine, causing me to feel his cock against my ass again – now only his fabrics between us.

I felt untethered, like I’d been transported somewhere else, into some wild fantasy; this couldn't possibly be happening. 

I turned my head slightly, searching, wanting to kiss him. His mouth moved to my neck, then my ear, then my cheek, leaving breathy kisses and bites where he wanted to.

Right when I thought he was going to turn me around to kiss him, he removed the fingers and placed the now soaking hand firmly on the back of my neck, pushing me forward. I gasped in surprise and disappointment at the hand once again disappearing from my pussy, but the grip was strong and I could only obey. I pushed the bottles in front of me forward as I was bent over so they wouldn't be knocked over. 

The shock of the sudden movements brought me back to reality and I started blushing. I was currently bent over a table, bare ass and pussy exposed to Oli Sykes, in the middle of a shared common room where any of the band mates could walk in at any point. This was insane.

But I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

"Fuck." he said under his breath behind me, "You're a vision…" Then I heard more fabric rustling, and suddenly something a lot warmer and bigger was at my entrance. 

How was I supposed to not moan? How was I supposed to not… 

And then he started pushing into me. 

I bit down on my lip so hard it would probably bruise, clawing at the table. A low moan came from behind me as he pushed deeper, to the hilt. He stopped there for a moment and leaned over me; I could feel his heat, the rising and falling of his chest, his laboured breathing against me, his soaking hand still possessively on the back of my neck. 

"You're doing great love, stay just like that, don't make a sound, yeah?" He whispered close to my ear.

That's when he started pumping, and I once again was transported to some other reality. I couldn't help it, I was moving, I felt wild, I wanted to scream, and suddenly I’d lost control again and another moan escaped my lips.

As soon as I did he stopped, his hand that had been pinning me to the table wrapped around my neck, leaving all the flesh there wet with my own juices, before pulling me back up against him.

His lips were back at my ear, hair back in my vision. “What a shame, you were doing so well for me.”

He pulled away and I felt him slip out of me, causing a pang of sadness to wash over me, thinking it's over, but in the same motion he turned me around, grabbing me by the hips to sit me on the table before him. He spread my legs to step between them, before our eyes met.

And suddenly it felt as if time stopped.

He is gorgeous. 

Dishevelled hair falling haphazardly around his face, lips slightly parted, the tattoos creeping up his neck, framing his face. His eyes were shining bright in the dim light, glassy but still intense. There was so much hunger in them, yet so much sadness.

The words slipped out of me without a thought, barely a whisper, “...Are you ok?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he searched my face, clearly not quite sure how to respond, like I'd thrown him off. You could tell he was intoxicated, as I don't think he'd be this honest with me, essentially a stranger, in a sober state – nor this forward. 

He spoke softly, “Tonight I wanted to throw everything away, just say fuck it; does anything really matter? I'm supposed to have my fucking shit together, yet all I want to do–” He looked away, shaking his head as he cut himself off. 

Silence filled the air around us for a long moment as he was lost in thought, then suddenly his eyes shot back to mine, speaking slowly, thoughtfully, “I've had my eye on you all night, and you look just as wrapped up in temptation as I feel. I just need an escape and I have a feeling you do too, don't you?”

His vagueness didn't matter, I knew what he was talking about, and I felt it too; the relentless pressure of life was crushing and there was a reason I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, why I wanted him so badly. Everyone could see there's something tortured about Oli, something passionate and wild that could barely be contained. 

And while I didn’t like to acknowledge it, I could relate. I also wanted to just let go, be free. Whatever that meant.

And I wanted to go there with him.

I reached out to touch his face, he flinched at the intimate gesture but didn't resist.

My mouth opened to speak, but I couldn’t find the words so I just nodded instead.

His expression softened and he nodded in return; a silent understanding that neither of us fully knew why the other needed this, but it didn’t matter. We didn’t need to know the intimate details about each other's pain to know we’re both desperate for some relief.

His eyes fell to my lips, “I just want to lose myself in you for a little while...”

Lose myself. 

Yes that’s it – a nice little escape from it all. I could feel a sombre smile spread across my lips. With the caress on his cheek I tried to guide him into a kiss, but instead he moved to my neck, tasting my juices still lingering there. 

He made a low rumbling noise in his chest then moved back to my ear, “You taste so sweet, love. Now, let's see if we can keep you quiet for this next bit.”

Pulling away he met my gaze again, this time with a faint devilish smile playing on his lips as he placed his hand over my mouth to encourage me to remain silent.

I didn’t resist, I wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me again.

It hit me that I am not sure exactly where my limits were, as long as he just continued using me.

Using me. 

That’s what it was, that’s what I craved.

I just want him to use me.

While this was news to me, I didn't want to think about this revelation now. The last thing I wanted to do right now was psychoanalyse myself. Thankfully I didn’t have to try very hard to shake the thought off, because Oli pulled me right back to the moment as his less busy hand slipped between us, guiding his cock back to me.

“I'll take things a bit slower at first, yeah? And you will stay quiet this time.” 

He was nodding his head while holding my gaze steadily, clearly expecting me to nod back in return.

So I did, looking nervous as I didn’t fully trust myself.

“Fuck, don't make that face love, I just want to start pounding to watch you struggle.”

Despite his last words, he entered me slowly. His eyes darken as he pulled me closer to him. Then he was moving inside me, that wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his gaze lazily roamed me. When his eyes came back to meet mine I could see something wild flicker behind them, like a promise of things to come.

Yes.

He was moving faster, testing me to see if I could keep quiet. My nails were digging into his shoulders to retain control, but I was doing it, only the slightest of noises escaped me.

“That's it, just like that.”

He looked at the hand covering my mouth, the tip of his tongue playing against his teeth. The grip loosened and two fingers pushed playfully into my mouth, his breath catching at the sight, appearing positively feral. His movements stopped for a moment, before he thrust into me, hard, his smile turning into a more serious expression, as if he was at some type of breaking point.

As if he was really sick of containing himself.

“Fuck it.” He said in a deep tone before removing the fingers that had been feeling my tongue, replace them with his lips. His arms wrapped around me, kissing me deeply, moaning into my mouth as he began thrusting harder.

Our hands are everywhere, grabbing, pulling, pushing, clawing.

I felt fingers slip into my hair to yank my head back in order to bite my neck, and I couldn't help it, I whimpered in response.

But he didn't care, if anything it spurred him on.

After a moment he pulled away to push me down on the table once more, this time facing him.

I looked up at him; he looked dangerous, unleashed, almost animalistic. His hair was everywhere, his mouth was open, panting heavily, and I could barely see his eyes. The energy was infectious, I was smothered in it as I writhe on the table.

Yes, this is it. This is what I need.

He pulled the top of my dress and bra down in one swift and painful motion, his hand gripping my throat agonisingly hard.

Hard enough for normal breaths to become difficult.

A rush of adrenaline washes over me, a confusing yet delightful mix of fear and arousal. He must have noticed, as his grip on my neck loosened slightly, letting me know he was still in there somewhere, despite appearing almost possessed. 

With that knowledge I let go. 

I clawed at him, wrapped my legs around him. He was so warm and solid, and I felt as if I was drowning in it; in him. Our movements became a blur of pain and pleasure. 

Somewhere in the distance I heard glass bottles clanging, then one after another fell to the floor. 

Again, he didn’t care. 

The world had fallen away and it was only us and our ecstasy here.

His head lowered as his movements came slower, with more intent. In a deep, nearly unrecognisable voice he murmurs, “I'm close.”

Another rush of emotions washed over me. 

A certainty, an almost primal need. I spoke my wishes through clenched teeth in a strangled and desperate tone, “Cum in me.”

His grip on me tightens further, this time constricting my breathing entirely. He falls forward on top of me, burying his face in the crook of my neck next to the vice grip he held on my throat. My fingers dig into his hair, pulling him closer. His breath became ragged as I felt him filling me up with every thrust. 

After a moment I hear some of it drip onto the floor beneath us.

The grip on my neck loosened and I inhaled sharply.

We lay like this for a minute before coming back to reality, letting our heart rates slow down.

I was bewildered, yet amazed. 

What had just happened? I felt like I’d unlocked a whole new part of myself, a longing that I didn’t quite understand yet, something simmering under the surface for what felt like years. 

Something in me craved the danger, the fear, the pain, to be used. Like there was some depraved form of freedom in giving my body and mind to someone and letting them have their way with me. And not to mention; how can something make me feel this incredibly good, without having even reached orgasm from it?

In all the confusion, one thing felt completely unwavering;

I wanted more.

Thoughts were swimming around in my head when a gentle caress grazed my throat. It was a sweet gesture, the polar opposite of the aggression I’d just experienced during our shared bliss. My brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he raised himself up, our faces only inches apart. I studied his expression, he appeared worried – questioning.

A soft, almost boyish voice spoke, “Are you alright?”

Such simple words, but the question wasn’t. 

I could tell he wanted to know if I felt unsafe, if I was in pain, and if what transpired between us had crossed a line. If he had crossed a line.

My face blooms into a tired smile, “Yes. I’m a bit confused, but I’m good.”

His expression softened some but not fully, and he started searching my neck and chest for any signs of injury, but I grabbed his hands to stop him. 

“Really, I’m okay. I didn’t know I could feel like this. I-I don’t fully understand it…“ I paused to try and find the words, “Tonight you’ve done more for me than I could–” 

He cuts me off with a kiss, much more tender than our previous ones. After a moment he pulls away to speak, “Oh love, you have no idea.”

I continued smiling, I couldn’t stop, and his features mimicked mine. 

My words came sheepishly, “Maybe we could do this again?” 

Right as I finished speaking another audible drop of cum was heard hitting the floor beneath us. We both exhale a small laugh – an acknowledgement of how bizarre the situation was.

He brushed some hair away from my face, “How about we have a little chat tomorrow, yeah? When we’re both a bit more clear headed.”

I couldn’t tell if he just wanted a way out, or if he wanted to make sure I was really okay with what had happened tonight. So I just nodded.

“Alright, let’s get you sorted then shall we?” He helped me into a sitting position and attempted to adjust my clothes a bit, as if I wasn’t the picture of freshly fucked; one of my dress straps had torn, my hair was completely messed up, with equally messy makeup, and of course – literally dripping cum. 

I had to stifle another laugh.

He pulled away, adjusting his own clothes, and shot me one last smile before slipping back to his room.

I sat there for some time, taking in the mess all around me. Almost all the bottles were on the floor, with one of them having shattered. 

How had I not noticed? 

There wasn’t a chance everyone in the band hadn’t heard us. 

This will be awkward tomorrow.

... Continue reading on Ao3

[thetraingotsetonfireonmidnight]

𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝕶𝖎𝖘𝖘, 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖓 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 ~ 2

(Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x reader)

This was highly requested! Thank you all for the support. The fact that KKFIL got so much support shocks me! I appreciate all of you!

< Part one

"You're pathetic." Plagg said ever so bluntly in-between his chews. He took another bite of cheese, crumbs falling onto Adrien's newly cleaned desk, "Just admit that you like them and move on."

Adrien grumbled in response, "I don't like them, Plagg." 

Living with the kwami of destruction always presented a challenge. There wasn't a day that passed by without the mischievous cat trying to pull some dirty prank behind Adrien's back. At first, he didn't mind it. It added something new to his day, and it was usually harmless.

But apparently hiding his phone or ruffling his hair before a photoshoot wasn't enough for Plagg anymore, because as of late, he's been turning off Adrien's alarm so he doesn't wake up for school on time. So now he was stuck in this position, shoving everything in his backpack last minute while trying to rush out the door.

Right now wasn't exactly the best time for him and Plagg to be having a conversation about his upside-down love life.

"You don't like them?" Plagg pushed, "Sure, and cheese is my worst enemy."

"Look Plagg, it's too early for this conversation." 

"So let's end it right here with you admitting that you like them."

"Get in my jacket or I'm throwing out the cheese you stored in my desk." Adrien opened up his jacket as Plagg let out a shrill gasp before immediately flying into his pocket. 

"For the record, this is called manipulation."

"You're insufferable sometimes."

Monday.

Adrien walked into the classroom ten minutes late, and he'd never forgive Plagg for ruining his perfect on-time attendance. 

He huffed and sat down next to Nino.

"Woah, dude, you look like shit. Totally unexpected from the model of the class."

Adrien smiled at Nino's bluntness, "I had a bit of a rough morning." He made sure to subtly flick his pocket as he said that. He felt Plagg pinch his side in retaliation.

"Yeah, I can tell." Nino shook his head, turning his attention back to the teacher. Adrien wanted to follow suit, but he couldn't help but notice you.

You sitting in your desk.

You looking wonderful as ever.

You…staring…right at him.

He smiled and waved.

You waved back.

And time stopped.

He wished he could sit next to you. Ask about your morning, hold your hand under the table, and pass notes throughout the class, giggling every time you nearly get caught.

But, alas, he wasn't sitting next to you, he wasn't holding your hand, and passing notes from this distance would be a guaranteed detention. 

Life was cruel and unfair sometimes.

"Psst." He raised a brow at you, silently asking you what you needed. You smiled, looking a bit bashful as you put your fingers to your lips and blew him a kiss.

Maybe life wasn't so cruel and unfair.

Tuesday.

"Are you ok? You look tired." 

Your voice was something Adrien would never get tired of, and it was just the remedy he needed after dealing with an akuma who had a…not so melodic voice. 

The fight was harder than he had assumed it would be. A few scratches littered his arms and legs while stubborn strands refused to stick with the rest of his gelled and styled hair. Though most of the ringing had gone away, his hearing hadn't quite recovered yet. He questioned the miraculous ladybug and why it decided that fixing a civilian's ripped tie was important, but Adrien (the person who helped stop the villain) would have to suffer the rest of the day with hearing loss. It needed to get its priorities straight.

You looked him up and down, your nose scrunched at the sight, "Did you lose a fight to a pigeon or something?"

"Very funny." He reached to scratch the back of his neck, but quickly remembered how Plagg had made fun of him for doing that when he got nervous the night before, and quickly put his hand down. "I tripped. I can only imagine how happy my father will be when he sees me." Adrien laughed, "I have a photoshoot after school. He's going to kill me."

You smiled awkwardly, "And you're laughing about that?"

He paused, realizing how strange it must've seemed for him to be laughing at the idea of upsetting his father and maybe another day, he would've been more worried than joyful…but…

A part of him felt like sticking it to his dad. It was something he never would've considered doing before, but dressing up in a cat costume everyday can change a man.  

"Well, good luck with your dad." You pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned to leave. He could still feel it on his cheek, his face growing increasingly warmer. 

"You like them~" Plagg whispered.

"It's completely platonic."

Wednesday.

A festival was in town.

Adrien didn't exactly get permission to go, so he had his good old friend, Chat Noir, help him get to where he needed to be. It was a risky game he was playing, but he couldn't miss seeing you.

You ran into his arms the second you saw him, hugging him for longer than necessary (not that he was mad about it).

You walked through multiple booths, picking up small snacks.

Soon a dance broke out, and Adrien couldn't resist asking you to dance. 

He bowed deeply, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. "Would you like to dance?"

You looked bashful.

It suddenly didn't feel so platonic anymore.

Thursday.

You were trapped in a closet with him. 

Chat noir had run in to detransform, not realizing that you had already occupied the space.

He tried to quickly turn back and leave, but the door handle broke in his hands, leaving the two of you in the closet alone. 

"So…you like jazz?" Chat asked. He felt like banging his head against the wall. Talking to you was so easy as Adrien, but it was difficult as Chat Noir. 

How could pretend like he knew nothing of you when all he did was think about you?

You gave him a very confused look, "Uh…is the akuma gone?"

"Yeah! And so is the doorknob!" 

The joke didn't land as well as he wanted it to. You just nodded and shifted back and forth on your feet. He was terrible at this.

He knew the two of you couldn't stay in there forever, but the only way you could get out was if he cataclysmed the door….

But in order to do that, he'd have to detransform.

"Do you mind closing your eyes?"  

"Uh…how come?" 

"I need to detransform."

You stared at him for a few more minutes. He wondered what you thought of Chat Noir. He had never asked you about it before.

He could only hope that you liked him. 

You finally closed your eyes, and Chat whispered the magic words that rid him of his magic.

Plagg shook his head disapprovingly at the blonde, though Adrien wasn't sure what the cat wanted. There was nothing else he could do, and he knew you would be trustworthy. 

He fed Plagg quickly.

"I just wanted to say…"

Adrien froze, scared you would someone know it was him if he breathed too loudly.

"I'm very grateful for what you and Ladybug do for Paris…really. Thank you."

Adrien smiled, relaxing slightly. He wished to respond, but without the quantum magic to mask his voice, he knew speaking would only screw him over. Thankfully, you seemed to understand that, as you didn't say anything about his silence.

He waited for Plagg to finish eating before transforming back. 

He cataclysmed the door and stepped to the side, "Victims in distress first!" 

You smiled and stepped out, he followed quickly.

"Thanks again."

"There's nothing to thank me for, all I did was get you stuck in a closet."

You laughed, "I meant for stopping the akuma…and getting me out of the closet."

You smiled, and Chat could've sworn his heart stopped. He wanted to kiss you now more than ever.

Not on the cheek.

Not on the hand.

A real kiss.

Chat couldn't do such a thing, but he knew someone who could.

Friday.

It was raining. 

Neither you nor Adrien brought an umbrella.

The smart option would be to seek shelter immediately, but instead you ran in the rain.

Adrien had offered to walk you home, and during the walk, rain poured down on you. It wasn't cold or uncomfortable, but freeing. Your clothes stuck to your sides and your poor shoes would struggle in the puddles, but you didn't care. You didn't care because Adrien had grabbed you by the hand, leading you down the street in a fit of giggles.

Each drop of rain let out its own ring, like the weather was singing its own love song for the both of you.

You twirled and spun, grabbing both of Adrien's hands. He seemed flustered, but he effortlessly followed your movements. 

Perfectly in rhythm, you and Adrien were stuck in your own world.

"I love you." 

You stopped, face heating up as you locked eyes with a now embarrassed Adrien. 

"What?"

"I…I love you." He repeated. Despite his stutter, his voice was confident. He couldn't be more sure of his words.

You smiled, "I know, I heard you the first time." 

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his.

Finally, your first real kiss.

[mountain-in-springtime]

somethin' stupid (like i love you)

pairing: sam x reader | word count: 5.3k | warnings: kissing, language, alcohol consumption | my masterlist

summary: you and sam have been best friends for years, but the presence of three little unsaid words could be enough to tear you apart.

author's note: Y'ALL this is my longest fic ever like what is happeningggg?? anyways, this fic is almost entirely unedited aside from whatever grammarly told me to fix lol but i love her anyways. i was unsure of how to format this, and i was kinda worried that it was corny, but i think i'm really happy with this one. it makes me so very soft. also it's based off of the song somethin' stupid, which is one of my songs of all time and is also linked below!

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

The icy night air stung your cheeks as it whipped around you, making your hair tumble from its carefully done style, and you were sure that you would wake up with a cold in the morning with the way the weather turned you into a sniffling mess. You guessed it was partially your fault for not grabbing a jacket when you and Sam had snuck your way from the cramped, sweltering space of your high school gym, but in your defense, you hadn’t had a lot of time to think it over. You were laughing and dancing with one of your friends, swaying with giddy delight when you felt a hand grasp your own. After whipping around, you saw that it was your best friend, his expression pleading as he made his request.

“Let’s get out of here,” he had said, and you followed without a single question as to why. Next thing you knew, you were walking hand-in-hand down the empty streets, wandering aimlessly in silence. Occasionally, you would hear a quiet sniffle from him, and you couldn’t be sure if it was a product of the environment or something else entirely.

After many minutes of wordless strolling, the two of you came across a playground. Void of any of the childish giggles and shrieks it usually fosters, it was almost an eerie sight. Still, you went with Sam as he turned toward the old, rusty swing set. The seat creaked as he sat down, and the chain on yours squeaked as it gave with your weight. You turned to your friend, studying the serious expression he wore as he gazed downward and kicked the pebbles that littered the ground below him. 

“You okay?” you prompted, hoping for him to open up. He kept his eyes away from your own but held his hand out beside him. You reached your own out to him, and he linked his pinky with yours. It was a small gesture, but it didn’t go unnoticed by you. Even when he was hurting, Sam was sure to give you reassuring bits of affection, making it clear that it wasn’t you he was upset with.

“She dumped me,” he finally said after a long moment. His voice lacked any of its characteristic light, and his eyes stayed trained on the ground. The long waves of his thick hair hung like curtains that obscured his face from your view, something you figured he was grateful for. 

You sighed and reached out a sympathetic hand, resting it on his arm. “Oh, Sam,” you mumbled, “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” 

“I know. That’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you. I… couldn’t,” he answered, his voice quiet and strained. 

A moment of silence fell between you as you took in what he had said. “Why?” you finally asked, and you could feel the weight of the question hanging in the air the minute you uttered it. 

Sam let out a long sigh before answering. “Because… you never liked her anyway. I thought if I told you, you’d just rub it in my face that you were right.” 

His confession hit you like a ton of bricks as you say there, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. “Oh, shit, Sam. I… I never meant to make you feel like that. I’m sorry,” you whispered, “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he replied through a deep breath. You knew he could tell how bad you felt. Sam was always so in tune with your emotions, quick to lift you up when you were down, but in this moment, you couldn’t let him do that. 

“No, it’s not,” you corrected, shaking your head, “It’s really not, Sam. I’ve been a shitty friend. I thought that I was looking out for you, but I was just being a jealous asshole. I think seeing you so happy with someone else… it made me feel left out, y’know? But that’s not your problem, it’s mine. I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about your relationship, and that’s messed up. I’m sorry.” You turned to face him and were surprised when he was already looking at you. 

His grip on your pinky moved to your entire hand as he laced his fingers with yours. He wore a gentle smile as he shook his head softly. “No need for an apology. I already forgave you, silly,” he mumbled, brushing stray hairs from your forehead. His hand cradled the back of your head and pulled you forward. You sighed softly as his lips grazed your temple. “I could never stay mad at you, y’know,” he said quietly. 

You nodded. “I know,” you teased, “You love me too much.” 

He let out a small chuckle and looked down at you. “You got that right. You’re the best friend I have,” he answered. His arm rested across your shoulder, pulling the two of you close despite the groans of the swings you occupied. You tilt your head up, your chin resting on his chest as you meet his gaze. You wished that you could keep this moment in a capsule and return to it over and over again, but you knew that there was more that needed to be said. 

“Sam? You wanna talk about it? The breakup, I mean,” you offered, not wanting to pry but also desperately wanting to be there for him. 

He gave his head a small shake as he continued to smile down at you. “Nah, it’s okay. I kinda knew it was coming.,” he explained, “She was pulling back. I just tried to ignore it. Told myself I was making it up, y’know?” He said it more like a fact than a question, punctuating it all with a long sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. You looked down at his hand in yours, turning it over and examining his long, slender fingers. You thought about how funny it was that even up close Sam was so beautiful and warm. He was perfect down to each minutia of his being. Your fingers traced along his knuckles, transfixed in the dips and curves between them. You grazed his fingertips and felt the rough calluses that had formed there from years of practice and passion. It was like you had fallen into your own private world as you stared at the canvas of your best friend’s palm. 

A small chuckle from Sam pulled you from your daze, his laughter vibrating through his chest and flowing into you. You wore an expression that fell somewhere between amusement and confusion as you looked up at him. “What?” you asked with a soft giggle. 

He shook his head as he held his fond expression. “Nothing,” he answered, “You look pretty when you’re all focused like that. Your brows get all scrunched, and your face gets all serious.” He tried and failed to mimic your expression, falling into a fit of wild, bubbling laughter.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful look. “That doesn’t sound pretty, Sam,” you chided jokingly, “You make me look like a doofus.” You shoved him lightly, making him only laugh harder.

He shook his head, fighting off his persistent chuckling as he placed his hand on your cheek and tucked a windswept strand of hair behind your ear. “Trust me, sweetheart. You look so pretty right now,” he whispered. Your heart jumped at how shamelessly he said it, making it impossible to not believe him. You swallowed thickly in an attempt to calm your racing pulse. 

“Yeah?” you questioned teasingly, “You’re not too bad yourself, y’know.” Your cheeks felt hot as you said it, and you could feel creeping regret encompass you as you were suddenly afraid that you had gone too far and ruined the moment, but a small laugh from Sam calmed you instantly in a way that only he seemed able to do.

He mirrored your question, “Yeah?” His gaze pierced your own, freezing you in place despite your desire to look away and hide your growing bashfulness. You felt completely bare before him, like he was seeing every piece of you, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it or if you even wanted to. Just when it became too much to bear and you moved to turn away, you felt Sam’s fingers grip your chin, keeping you facing him. “You scared?” He asked quietly, his voice even and sincere.

You hesitated before answering, unsure of what the honest answer was. Your heart was racing faster than it ever had, and you felt like you were seconds away from passing out, but as you stared up at Sam, you had never felt safer. You were scared out of your mind, but you knew that he would never lead you astray. You shook your head. “I’m alright, Sam,” you answered shakily. 

He smiled softly. “Good,” he cooed as he leaned forward, stopping when his lips were only centimeters from yours. His eyes flitted up to meet your own, silently giving you one last chance to back out. You let out a nervous breath and smiled at him before closing the gap between you, hesitantly locking your lips with his. You heard Sam gasp quietly in surprise, and he stayed still for a moment of pure shock before kissing you back in earnest. His hand on your cheek moved to the back of your neck, pulling you close with all of the gentle passion in his body. You squeezed his hand as you sighed softly into his kiss. Everything around you melted away. There was no playground, no icy wind, and no pressure to be anything but yourself. It didn’t matter where this went or what it would mean for you and Sam tomorrow. All that mattered was this beautiful, messy, perfect moment between the two of you as you made your undefined and unexplored love for each other tangible between squeaky swings and shuffling rocks. 

*

Sam may not be right about a lot of things, but he sure was right about one: you really needed to learn to pace your drinking. You stumbled about Josh’s house, placing your hands on empty walls, wobbly shelves, and innocent party-goers in an attempt to steady yourself. Occasionally, you would spot someone you recognized and slur out a desperate “Where’s Sammy?” to which you would get pointed in a direction that never seemed to be where he actually was. After a few minutes of aimless wandering you gave up and decided to make your way to the kitchen. Your stomach had been growling endlessly for about fifteen minutes, and you had ignored it for just about as long as you could in your drunken state. As you crossed the threshold into the kitchen, your foot caught onto a statue near the entryway, sending you tumbling downward. You yelped and braced yourself for impact, but at the last moment, you felt strong hands grip your arm and waist and pull you back up. You mumbled out a quick thanks before turning towards your savior and seeing a familiar face.

“Oh, Sammy!” you gasped, “There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” You giggled softly and pulled him into a crushing hug, making it his turn to give a surprised yelp, which was followed promptly by his signature, good-natured laugh. 

“Looking for me? What do ya need me for?” he asked. He kept a hand on each of your arms as he talked to you, making sure you didn’t take another dive toward the hardwood floors. 

You stared blankly for a moment before shrugging. “Don’t remember,” you answered before a look of realization crossed your face, “Oh, yeah, I’m drunk. And hungry.” Your stomach growled loudly, cementing your latter point. “See?” you added, pointing to your belly.

He let out a bark of laughter before he looked at you with a smug grin. “Lemme guess, you didn’t listen when I said that doing all those shots with Jake and Josh was a bad idea, huh?” his voice had a tinge of prideful victory, and it was putting a serious damper on your excitement at finding him. 

You let out a groan and stuck your lip out in a pout. “It’s their birthday, Sammy. What kind of friend would I be if I turned down shots?” 

“A sober friend,” he countered with a chuckle, “Besides, they’re professional alcoholics. No one can keep up with them.” He pulled you into his side and ruffled your hair slightly.

“Hey!” you whined, swatting his hand away from your now-tangled hair, “You know, I think you only say that no one can keep up with Jake and Josh because you’re a lightweight.” You look up at him, wiggling your eyebrows in an act of challenging playfulness. 

He rolled his eyes. “Watch it there, sweets. Don’t wanna bite the hand that keeps you from falling on your ass,” he quipped, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as he felt you shift your weight from one foot to the other. 

“Whatever,” you dismissed with a scoff, “You know I’m right, though. That’s why you never drink much at these parties.” Now it was your turn to look up at him smugly, your nose scrunching slightly. 

He brought his other hand forward and tapped the tip of your nose with his index finger playfully. “You wish,” he said with a smirk, “I don’t drink because I know you’re gonna get wasted and beg me for a ride home. What you gotta say about that one?” His gaze on you was triumphant as he expectantly waited for you to answer.

You opened your mouth to protest but stopped as your cheeks flushed, and your face grew into a half-hearted glare. “Can we get Taco Bell on the way home?” you finally asked defeatedly. 

You felt Sam shake with laughter as he nodded, “Sure,” he agreed, “Now, c’mon, let’s go say bye to everyone. Don’t wanna be bad guests, now do we?” You nodded in reply, and he started to guide you out of the kitchen in search of his brothers. Finding them proved to be anything but a difficult feat, considering that all it took to find Josh was to listen for the loudest person and head in their direction. Jake, of course, was right beside his twin, Josh’s arm wrapped affectionately around his shoulders. After wishing them goodbye and a happy birthday and assuring them that while, yes, you’d love to stay, you really did have to go home, you set your sights on finding Danny. He was just as easy to find as the twins, pouring himself another drink and making friendly conversation with some of the other guests. You and Sam bid him farewell and began to make your way out of the house. You clung desperately to Sam’s side as you made it through the living room, and only three extra goodbyes and one near-faceplant later, the two of you had made it outside and all the way to Sam’s car. He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you, helping you climb inside. 

“Thank you, Sammy,” you mumbled, “You’re a real sweetheart.” You gave him an affectionate pat on the arm, which he returned before shutting the car door and moving to the driver’s side. 

“Alright,” he said as he sat behind the wheel, “You ready to go? Got your seatbelt buckled?” 

You gave a gasp of realization, “Oh!” The seatbelt made a loud zipping sound as you pulled it across your body. Sam watched with fond amusement as you tried again and again to click the buckle into place, finally nailing it on your fourth try. “Got it!” you exclaimed, all giggles and excitement. 

He laughed along with you as he backed out of Josh’s driveway and set off down the road. You let the time pass between you, an ever-flowing stream of consciousness pouring from you as you shared anything and everything on your mind. Sam listened to every word, never interrupting or making you feel silly for your drunken rambles. It was the kind of thing that you’d really appreciate and probably comment on if you were a little more sober. 

Eventually, you felt the car slow down as Sam pulled into the Taco Bell drive-thru. An excited squeal left your throat as the car rolled to a stop. He rolled down the window, and a few moments later the metallic voice rang through the speaker, asking for your order. You heard Sam ask for a moment before he turned to you with a lopsided grin. “Alright, what are you having, sweets?” he asked.

You gave a loud, exaggerated hum as you thought it over, staring at the menu through the windshield. “Ummm, quesadillas,” you finally answered, “Oh, and a Mountain Dew, please. A big one.” You held your hands up and mimed the shape of a comically large drink. Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled softly in response, ordering quickly and driving up to the window. You leaned over and reached down for your purse. As you picked it up with a victorious huff, you stuffed your hand inside, fishing around for your wallet. However, your movements stopped when you felt Sam’s hand on your arm.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told you, shaking his head as he pulled out his own wallet from his pocket. He moved to take out his card but stopped with a sigh as you shoved a few bills his way. 

“Lemme pay, Sammy,” you pleaded, “People are gonna think I’m a gold digger if you’re always buying.” You hoped your attempt at a joke would make him give in, but it seemed that the odds weren’t in your favor as he shook his head again, pushing the bills away. 

“Nice try,” he said as he handed his card to the woman at the window, “Besides, we’re not even dating. No one’s gonna call you a gold digger.” He laughed, mostly to himself, and took his receipt from the cashier. You pouted slightly as you heard her tell him to pull into a parking spot, letting him know that the food would be out in a few minutes. 

You were about to open your mouth to complain about how hungry you were, but when you looked at Sam, the thought was erased from your mind. The glow of the parking lot lights washed across his features, making them seem beautifully sculpted and impossibly soft all at once. His lips looked plush and full as he sang along quietly to the radio, and the way his lashes fluttered with every blink was enough to make your heart beat out of your chest. 

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out with one hand, gently touching his cheek. “You’re so pretty, Sammy,” you whispered as your thumb brushed along the smooth skin of his cheek. He laughed softly and thanked you, but you shook your head, feeling a burning need to make him understand. “No, I mean it,” you insisted, “You’re beautiful. The light makes your face look so good.” You leaned over the center console, craving to be close to him. 

You didn’t notice the soft flush of his cheeks, but you felt his hand grab yours softly and place it back in your lap. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he answered with a small smile playing across his lips, “You look really nice, too. Even if you’re a little sauced.” 

You sigh, ignoring his playful dig at your current state. Your gaze stayed trained on him for a few more lingering moments. “You look the way you did in the playground that one time,” you mumbled, and you felt your cheeks heat up even as you said it.

“Yeah?” he asked, tensing slightly and gripping the steering wheel tighter with his left hand, his right one drumming on the gear shift. 

You nodded. “Yeah. I think about it a lot. Do you?” you asked with such unfiltered candor that Sam couldn’t deny you the truth. 

“Yeah. Sometimes,” he uttered, his eyes staying trained forward, unable to face you. It was only when he felt your soft grip on his chin that he turned. 

“I wanna kiss you, Sam,” you blurted. The words hung in the air, and you desperately wanted to take them back, but it was too late, and as much as you could try to deny it in the morning, they were all true. 

He searched your face for a few seconds, confusion and heartbreak dancing over his features. “No, you don’t, sweets. You’re drunk,” he muttered with a shake of his head, “You’re just getting in your head and saying things that you don’t mean.” His hand firmly but gently gripped your wrist, pushing your hand away. You moved it back immediately, your face holding a look of vulnerable want. 

“No,” you protested softly, “Drunk or sober, this is what I want. I just… I’ve never been brave enough to say it before. Please, Sam, you know I love you.” You leaned forward slightly, praying to whatever powers that be that maybe he would feel the same way, but he only shook his head, placing his hand over yours. 

His voice came out in a pained whisper, punctuated with a shake of his head, “I love you, too.” They were the exact words you wanted to hear, but you never knew how painful they could be. What you thought would be a heartfelt confession became the biggest rejection of your life. You opened your mouth to speak back, to ask why he didn’t want you if he loved you so much, but you were cut off as a woman approached the car, knocking on the window and handing Sam your food. You sat in a terrible silence as he placed your drink in the cup holder and handed you the brown paper bag. He stared ahead for a moment before sighing and putting on a half-hearted smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Alright, sweets. Let’s get you home.” And just like that, the moment was over. 

*

Hot tears poured down your cheeks, burning your skin and making you choke with every sob. You wiped your nose with your sleeve, not caring how gross you would normally find the habit. Your knees were pulled tightly to your chest as you sat perched on your couches. After a few moments, your breathing slowly evened out, and you took a deep breath before reaching for your phone, dialing quickly and praying for an answer. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you heard Sam’s voice from the other line, full of cheer and affection. The sound of him alone was enough to pull fresh tears from you, pouring out in loud cries. He responded immediately with concern, “What’s wrong?” His question was simple. He never pushed too far, and it was something you appreciated now more than ever. 

You sniffled loudly for a few moments before answering. “I dumped Austin,” you sobbed, “Can you please come over?” 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do you need anything?” He asked, his answer swift and to the point. 

After a few moments of silent thought, you whimpered back, shaking your head, “No, just get here as soon as you can, please.” Your grip on your phone was tight and desperate as if holding it close would bring Sam to you faster. 

“Alright. I’ll be there soon. You hang in tight, okay? I love you,” he cooed, slowly easing your nerves, making your breath still.

“Okay,” you sighed, “Thank you, Sammy. I love you, too.” You hung up the phone and took a deep breath. All you wanted was to ball back up on the couch and scream, but you decided that you should try getting yourself together before Sam arrived. You were sure he wouldn’t mind if you were a blubbering mess, but it wasn’t like he could help you much if you could barely speak. 

You walked into your kitchen, throwing open your freezer and grabbing a tub of ice cream. It made a soft thudding sound as you dropped it unceremoniously onto the counter and swung the door to the freezer closed. Next, you pulled open the drawer nearest to the stove, grabbing a spoon for yourself and an extra one for Sam. The old barstool that was posed near your kitchen island screeched as you dragged it towards you, and it creaked loudly when you sat upon it. You mentally reminded yourself to look for new barstools and yanked the lid off of the ice cream, scooping a large spoonful and shoving it into your mouth. The sugar truly did little to lift your spirits, but at least it didn’t make you feel worse. At least that was what you were telling yourself when you heard a knock at the door, signaling Sam’s arrival. 

You got up from your place at the counter and plodded to the door. As you opened it and saw your friend’s face, you fell into his arms in a tight, bone-crushing hug. “Hey, Sammy,” you mumbled into his chest. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he answered. You felt his hand splayed out across your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting gesture. After a moment, he spoke again. “You okay?” he asked, his voice full of gentle concern. 

You let out a long sigh. “Yes. No. I don’t really know,” you whined, “I feel so bad, Sam. He had no clue it was coming.” Your head fell forward, landing in your palms as you rubbed your temples in frustration and uncertain grief. You slowly moved back to the kitchen and plopped back into your chair. 

“I thought things were going really well,” Sam asked, following you and sitting beside you at the counter. 

You nod as you take another bite of ice cream and nudge the extra spoon in his direction. “It was. I mean, he was so sweet and nice. He would come to all my family stuff, even when he knew he didn’t have to, and he was always doing all these sweet little things to make sure I knew he cared. Flowers, chocolates, the whole nine yards, y’know? He was the best boyfriend I ever had,” you shared, one long stream of consciousness pouring out of you. 

Sam sat in silence for a moment, taking in what you had to say. Then, he gave a long sigh and finally answered, “I don’t understand then, sweets. Why’d you dump him?” 

It was your turn to give a sigh in response, paired now with a shake of your head. “I didn’t love him,” you said quietly, “I tried. I tried so hard to love him. I mean, why not, y’know? He was a nice guy, the kinda guy I should consider myself lucky to be with. But I just couldn’t do it. No matter how hard I tried.” Tears started to roll down your cheeks again and your shoulders started to shake as Sam pulled you into a tight embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to love anyone. You know that? Besides, any guy who’s with you is the lucky one, not the other way around,” he cooed sweetly to you as he gently patted you on the back, swaying slightly. 

You gave a small huff, leaning into Sam’s embrace. “It’s like this every time. I meet a nice guy, and I try to love them, I really do, and it always just blows up in my face. God, what’s wrong with me?” you cried as you buried your face into the crook of his shoulder. 

He shushed you softly, “Oh, now, come on. You know nothing’s wrong with you. You’re the best gal I know, and you shouldn’t try to force yourself to love anybody. That’s not the way to go about it. It’s not fair to yourself.” You felt his head tilt downward to look at you. “What’re you doing trying to make yourself love all these guys anyway?” he asked, no mocking tone in his voice, only a genuine desire to understand. 

“It’s embarrassing, Sam,” you replied with a shake of your head, “I can’t….” Your sentence trailed off and you kept your face pressed against his body, unable to answer. 

He nodded, “Alright. That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but just try to remember that things are gonna work out, okay? You’re gonna find someone out there who’s gonna really knock your socks off.” A small chuckle rumbled in his chest as he tried to slowly lift your spirits. 

“No, I won’t, Sam,” you muttered, “I’ve tried over and over. It’s not gonna work out for me.” 

Your words only made him tighten his grip on you. “Now, that’s crazy talk,” he chided softly, “Why would you think a thing like that?” 

“Because you don’t love me.” 

Your words hung between the two of you, Sam being the first to cut through the thick tension they left behind. “What?” he asked, his voice bearing incredulous confusion, “Of course I love you. I tell you I love you all the time.” 

You gave a frustrated groan and pulled yourself away from him. “God, Sam, you just don’t get it. I don’t mean love like that. I mean love. You might love me, Sam, but you don’t want me. Not the way I want you.” 

A painfully loud, blaring silence filled the room as the weight of what you said rested on the man before you. He didn’t say a word, his eyes staying locked on the floor. 

“See?” you continued, “I’ve always loved you, Sam. I thought it was pass, but… fuck, I love you, Sam. And you just don’t love me. You never did.” 

You opened your mouth to say more but was cut short as you felt warm, soft lips pressed against your own. Your body went rigid with shock for a moment before melting into Sam’s kiss. Deep, hungry sighs of relief flowed between the two of you as you desperately grabbed at each other. His tongue slotted itself between your lips, coming to meet with your own as his hands combed through your hair, gentle need filling him as he cradled you to his being. Your hands rested upon his shoulders and acted as an anchor to prove to yourself that this was real and not some sick joke your brain was playing on you. 

After you could hardly breathe and had exhausted yourself in the raw passage of love you shared, you pulled back, looking Sam in the eyes. “I’ve always loved you,” he confessed, “I loved you since that night we kissed our senior year. I just… I was scared. The way I feel about you, it’s bigger than me. Hell, it’s bigger than the both of us put together, and I was scared that if I told you, if I really put my money where my mouth is and just laid it all out, it would ruin what we had. I could never afford to lose you. I still can’t. I just always told myself that I’d do whatever it takes to keep you around, even if it meant I couldn’t love you the way I wanted.” 

You were almost moved to tears at his words as you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. “Oh, Sam, you’re so stupid. Stupid and wonderful. How could I ever not love you? And how could a love like ours ever go bad?” You tilted your head up and kissed him again, feeling so free just to know that you could. 

A loud laugh rumbled through his chest as he held you and kissed you back. “Yeah, I guess love makes us all a little stupid, doesn’t it?” he asked and looked down at you, his playful, lopsided smile plastered to his face. 

You giggled with unbridled delight. “I guess you’re right on that one,” you conceded, “At least we can be stupid together, right?” 

“Right,” he answered, leaning in and kissing you sweetly. You smiled into his kiss, happy in the fact that you and Sam were both incredibly, undeniably stupid and unmistakably, absolutely in love.

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

[anomaly-hivemind]

Love at Frost Sight || Temperature Play w/ Kyojuro Rengoku x Ice Hashira Afab! Reader

Word Count: 604

Tags: Afab! reader, temperature play, groping,

Demon Slayer Masterlist, Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Notes: AU where the slayers actually control the elements of their breathing style.

You were meditating in your room, it was nice and secluded so people would have to go out of their way if they wanted to bother you. Which is what most people would do, mostly Rengoku Kyoujurou. He alway found time to come to your room with his bright smile and happy demeanor. Always with the need to share his happy attitude with you whenever he could.

A loud knock verberated through the door before his voice boomed. “Y/N how are you today?!”

“I’m alright Kyojuro,” You said as he came in and sat beside you. It was like he was your own personal fire, the heat practically radiated off him. You leaned over resting your head on his shoulder.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” Rengoku asked.

“I’m fine, I'm just trying to enjoy your warmth.” You stay on his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his.”

“Well Dearest Y/N you are always welcome to share my warmth, especially with how cold you can be.” His loud voice spoke with the same happiness one could assume a dog would have.

“Do you mean that literally or emotionally?”

“Why literally of course” he turned slightly

“Although you could come off stand offish it may give people the idea you don't want them around” He added quickly.

“And How exactly do you think I should do that, be more like you?” you joked slightly but it may have come off a bit more harsher than intended.

“Maybe start with warming up a bit” He joked back with a laugh at his own joke and it made a small smile appear on your face that you quickly hid away.

“Help me with that will ya.” he turned to face you as if something had come to his mind and his smile got bigger, if that were even possible to do.

“I can definitely do that for you.” He said as he got a bit closer to you his overpowering warm body heat wrapping around you as he pulled you closer to him. Your cold skin felt nippy as he ran his hand up and down your waist.

His hot hand found its way in between your uniform top and you shiver. It was usually the other way around with you making people shiver from your cold aura. Yet this was a completely new thing for you and the fact that Rengoku was feeling up and groping your skin was pleasing and dare you say it arousing.

You don't like this shift in your power dynamic so you place a finger on his lap with a smirk. When he got ready to speak you created a cube of ice in his mouth; his eyes dropped slightly and he sucked on the ice. Melting the ice on his tongue until it was a small piece of it was left, before you could bring his tongue on your neck.

You shiver and put your hand on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt a bit too fast for it to be sexy. He sucked on your neck and rubbeing your nibble, mapping out your body with his radiating hand.

His hand traveled lower and slightly into your pants and Rengoku was kissing up your neck before pulling you into a nice warming kiss. His tongue collides with yours in a delicious feeling of hot and cold.

Before his hand could go any further a knock appeared on your door. You both pull away from each other and fix your clothes.

“Fucken hell,”

[alyssaswrld999]

You Have A Cute Face/ Bill Denbrough x Reader:

I was riding my bike around Derry bored out of my mind. I really didn't want to go to the movies because the movies weren't really interesting. I didn't wanna go to the library because the librarians creep me out. And I sure as hell didn't want to go anywhere around the Bowers Gang.

I honestly don't feel like getting myself killed today so I'm just playing it safe. I really didn't know what Bill or any of the Losers were doing so I finally decided to go to the quarry for a swim. As I got there and was sitting down I seen the Losers Club. They were down near the creek at the bottom where you swim to after jumping off the cliff.

I was at the top of the cliff getting ready to look down at the water and rest. "Hey Losers" I shouted down at them. They all look up and seen me. I waved at them and they all waved at me. I then walk back from the cliff and remove my shirt and pants. I was now just in my bra and underwear. I didn't really have anything on me besides my bike. Which the losers left up here as well so I just put my bike near theirs.

I then run and jump off the cliff doing a flip on the way down. "WHAT THE FUCK" I heard Richie scream. I then hit the water and go under. I come back up and swim towards them. "How was that" I asked the Losers. "That was Awesome Y/n" Richie said smiling.

"Thank you Richie" I said laughing. I go and sit down beside Beverly. "So what are you all doing" I asked. "We actually are just hiding from Bowers as usual" Eddie said being sarcastic. I laughed at the joke. "Same here actually that's the amazing thing about being in the Losers Club" I said.

They all laughed with me at that joke. I smile and lay down resting in the shade. "It's so peaceful today" I whispered. Beverly layed down beside me resting as well. "Yeah it feels nice" Beverly added.

After having a nice time at the creek with the Losers we all decided to go home. Me and Bill live three houses down from eachother so he walked me home. "You look really pretty today Y/n you have nice style" Bill said. I smiled at Bill and giggled.

"Has anyone told you that you have a cute face Bill" I said. Bill blushed at what I said and started to stutter. "I-I-I no one has a-act-actually told me t-t-that Y/n" Bill said. I smiled and then kissed his lips. Bill kissed me back and froze.

"Well you do and by the way your a really good kisser" I said. I started to walk away to go inside until Bill grabbed my hand. He pulled me towards him and he kissed me again. "I th-think your face is c-c-cute too" Bill whispered smiling.

I put my head into his neck as I blush at what he said. "Th-thank you for walking me home" I said to Bill stuttering a bit since I was nervous. Bill walked me to my front door and looked at me. "Are you doing anything tommorow" Bill asked.

I smiled and looked at him. "No I'm not actually" I said. Bill nodded and then smiled. "D-Do you wanna h-h-hangout tommorow" Bill asked. I nodded my head yes. I mean Bill is cute and I have had a crush on him awhile. "Yeah sure" I said.

Bill nodded his head and smiled more. "Alright I will come by tomorrow and pick you up." Bill said. Then Bill walks down the porch and walks home with his bike. "Bye Y/n" Bill said. I smiled and watched him walk away. "Bye Bill" I said.

I turn around and walk into my house. I actually was really happy about tommorow and I could tell that Bill was as well. I mean he didn't even stutter when he told me he would be here tommorow.