#i’ll still draw some from time to time but it won’t be the same as it is now

[joelsflower]

you’re so vain | eddie alden x f!reader

you and eddie are roommates and work at the same newscast… but the news aren’t the only things you’re reporting together.

or

some moments sfw and nsfw between you and your ‘friend’ eddie

warnings: sexual and romantic tension, eddie is a munch, they love each other but won’t admit, funny silly goofy moods, pussy eating in public/work place (the door was locked no one saw it), protected piv… while it’s raining outside… and you make love while still not admiting your feelings… the fwb drill we all know and love

a/n: hmmm did someone ask for… fwb!eddie? ☝🏼cause i did!!!

wc: probably around 2.3k i wrote it here sorrys !

the pictures are from this post and this post by @divinesols (both highly recommended as moodboards for this btw!) and i couldn’t find the creator of the gif :/ if anyone knows pls let me know so i can tag!

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“And… cut!”

“We had a bigger audience tonight. Looks like you’ve finally managed to draw the public’s attention.” You handed Eddie a smirk and a cup of coffee while he took off his earphones.

“I always draw attention, baby” he took it and winked at you, taking a sip but immediately making a face of disgust indicating the sugar that was not there.

You knew exactly how he wanted it, but you loved pissing him off.

“And you always brings me the coffee the way you know I don’t want it,” he said as he paced to the studio’s kitchen, followed by your fast steps behind him.

“Ops! And I don’t always bring you coffee, I jus-“

“You just happened to be passing by the coffee shop. Mhmm. I know,” he mocked your tone and expressions, “and you also just happen to be thinking of me all of the time, hm?” He pinched your nose.

You gave him an annoyed look, “well, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Mr. Alden!” You said jokingly, pronouncing the “Mr. Alden” with very much cursive letters.

“Don’t call me that… At least not here.” You were always impressed by the way Eddie could manipulate the look in his eyes to translate exactly what he was thinking about. And, 99,9% he was only thinking about one thing.

Sex.

“Oh I’m not calling you that anywhere, believe me”

“Hmm, cause you rather scream my name, huh?” He raised his brows at you in a funny way, using his arms to cage your body between his and the kitchen counter while swaying a little, making you laugh in that way he loved; when your eyes squeezed together and your head hanged back with a big grin on your lips.

He just loved seeing you happy, specially if he was the reason. When was he going to admit it to you? Probably never.

“Eddie, Jesus! Not here!” Now both of you were laughing unglued his hands from your sides and pushed him away, giving him light taps on the chest.

“Alden, newsroom wants to see you.” Someone from the staff peaked from the door, causing your bodies to distance from each other at the speed of a Formula 1 car, him pretending to still put sugar on the coffee and you weirdly looking for something in the sink.

“I’ll be there in a minute, thank you,” he nodded his head, “wait for me tonight,” he smirked and taped your bum lightly, making you jump.

“Oh yeah bet on it,” you gave him a teasing tone.

“I’ll be watching you,” Eddie motioned his point and middle fingers from his eyes to yours, already by the door.

“That’s cause I always draw attention!”

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Oh… fuck-“, you tried your best to whisper half of the depravations that were slipping from your lips and to swallow the other half that were stuck in your throat.

But it was very hard when Eddie had you sitting by the end of his desk, skirt up and legs spread wide upon his shoulders so his head could sit perfectly between them.

“So sweet, princess,” his praises were muffled against your throbbing clit, both of his hands hardly squeezing the sides of your thighs. He spent the whole morning dreaming about the taste of your pussy, and by lunch he couldn’t wait anymore.

“W-we have five minutes, Ed,” your worried little mind kept you looking every 5 seconds towards the foggy glasses on his door, but this time got interrupted by your eyes screwing shut and your mouth hanging open in a silenced cry when Eddie quit the sucking in your bud to fuck your hole with his tongue.

“I- we-,” every time you tried to say something and your words died in muffled little moans and cries he sucked and fucked harder. Eating you out was for sure one of Eddie’s favorite things and making you come when you couldn’t scream or cry freely was like a reward for his tiring day.

Having the opportunity to give you pleasure and piss you off at the same time? He was in.

“C’mon baby, cum on my tongue, hm? Wanna taste my girl,” he used two of his fingers to spread your wetness all over your center before nuzzling his head back again, nose stimulating your clit while his tongue entered you hungrily, in and out, in and out, the vibrations of his moans exploding fireworks in your veins.

The man was devouring you.

You came in a quiet moan, fingers gripping Eddie’s roots while his nails dig in your upper thighs and his face drowned in your cunt. He sucked and lapped you clean, until you were too sensitive to bear anything else, “fuck, thank you, baby. Here,” he gave you a paper tower from the adjoining bathroom he had in his office and helped you put your panties and skirt back. If you didn’t already knew all too well the smirk he had on his face you’d think by that he was something that he actually wasn’t.

A gentleman.

But deep, down, he was. For you, at least.

“Can you stand?”

“You have done better performances”

“Oh of course. ‘oh, fuck! Eddie! so good! we have 5 minutes!’” he joked while pulling you in for a see you later hug and a kiss on the cheek before you could run away from him, “thanks, bub. Best lunch ever”

“You’re disgusting,” you laughed, pushing his chest and stepping towards the door.

“If I was I wouldn’t have your pussy all over my face now, would I?”

“Disgusting,” you mouthed and closed the door, not giving him time to fry your braincells that had just started working again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

“Shhh. Almost there, baby. You can take it, just a little more”

“So good,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips while the raindrops slipped down your window.

Your plan definitely wasn’t to end up under Eddie tonight, but the thunderstorms got louder than you thought they would. And as it always happens between the two of you, one thing led to the other, and…

“Fuck- found your spot, pretty girl? So good t’me,” Eddie was fucking you tonight. You didn’t know if it was because of the rain painting your frames with the moonlight, the fact that it’s been a little while since you’ve slept together or if he found it cute every time you shivered and gripped his biceps cause a thunder was a bit too loud.

His cock was nestled deep inside your walls, messaging your favorite spots with each thrust. He was going slow, fierce, calculated, and he had all the patience in the world.

You could feel him everywhere.

From his fingers in your scalp to his hot tongue slow dancing with yours to every vein rubbing your walls deliciously. Sometimes his dick split out because of how wet you were together and he didn’t even bother, he kept fucking your clit with his tip, up and down, up and down, making you see stars until he felt you couldn’t take it anymore and tucked himself back in. His words? Praises and praises and praises hanging from his lips like sugar. You’ve never felt so full and so… Adored.

“Yeah, c’mon princess, can feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. Think you can come now, baby?” Eddie slowed even more his pace to watch your face contort in pleasure while tears fell down your eyes, every pulse of your warm cunt around his cock sending him closer and closer to the edge. You came within seconds, nodding your head “yes” while your little pants and moans being muffled by his own, your mouths tangled while he came with you, filling the condom you help him put earlier on.

Both of you had - intentionally - little to no sex like that; but it happened. And when it happened, it was usually because you either lost yourselves or one needed so much. You tried not to be too much in your head about it, but it was difficult when Eddie kissed your forehead and played with your head, still inside you.

He didn’t want to go, either.

“You don’t look so afraid of the noises now,” he tried to break the silence between you, knowing very well it wasn’t the awkward or comfortable types, but the emotional kind.

“The rain stopped,” you let out, with tears still leaking from your eyes.

“And are you sad about it?” he dried them from your cheek.

You smiled, “fuck you.”

“You just did,” he stared at you for a bit, caressing your cheeks as your eyes stopped watering and the last raindrops flowed down the window.

“Stay? It might rain again…”

You lifted your pinky between your bodies, “just this time,” and he embraced your smaller finger with his, “just this time.”

But both of you knew it wasn’t just this time.

It would rain again.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

When your keys turned on the locket the last thing you expected was to meet Eddie eating ice cream directly from the pot at home 20:17pm on a friday.

Sitting on the counter.

Shirtless.

“…What are you doing here?”

“Uh.. I live here? I should be the one asking you that,” he motioned the spoon in your direction.

“Eddie, it’s 20pm on a friday,”

“Actually, it’s 20:17pm on a friday”

Yeah you weren’t doing this tonight.

“Fine, whatever.”

“Hey, what’s that?” His tone was softer, he always knew when you had a bad day.

And good ones too. And any kind of day you have had and exactly how he should react to it.

“Just… Pierce screamed at me again,” his eyes followed you as you took the wine glass out of the fridge.

“So… She did her job cause you weren’t doing yours…”

“Try again,” you poured a glass.

“She’s just a bitch who can’t let you do your work without complaining about whatever shit she caused”

“Bingo!” You swallowed the whole wine in one go, watching through the glass as Eddie’s hand reached for it and took it from you, “no no no, this will not help you.”

“And what will? Being dumped by a freshman college girl and Ice cream?”

He gave you a disappointed look but reached for your hands anyway, “come here,” he pulled you to his body, arms embracing you while you positioned yourself in between his legs, head resting on his chest and arms around his waist.

“You know what you really need?” His words were muffled on the top of your head.

“Hm?”

“To shut the fuck up”

“You shut the fuck up” now your words were muffled on his chest.

“I know you don’t mean it. You love me.”

“Sure”

And actually you sure as hell did. And he loved you too. When were you going to admit it to each other?

Probably never.

🗞️🗞️🗞️

[mrsportgas]

The Neighbor. CHAPTER 1

Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?

SHANKS X YOU

WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.

Nami and I had just arrived. It was Sunday, and people were out and about, either running errands, taking a stroll, or simply enjoying the last hours of the day before the week began again. The neighborhood was lively. As I looked out the window, I could see children playing in the park, adults walking their dogs, and others jogging, all going about their lives calmly. Nami parked the car in the driveway, and to the right, a huge Range Rover took up the entire parking spot. The semi-detached houses, split two by two, practically forced you to share the parking and almost the garden with the next-door neighbor.

"Hurry up, Y/N! Let's grab the stuff and go in, they’ve been waiting for us at the bar for hours," Nami said, slightly out of breath.

I laughed at her nervousness, got out of the car, and grabbed the things from the trunk, following my friend.

It had been a year since I finished college, and now Nami and I were starting our PhDs at the same university. So, we had returned to the town where the university was located, but this time, we rented a house in the suburbs. We felt too old to go back to the sorority and wanted some peace and quiet.

We had made plans to meet our friends from college. Some, like us, had started their PhDs, others had stayed working in the city, and Luffy was still in his final year.

"Let’s just drop the stuff at the entrance and go. They’re going to kill us, we’re so late," I said, hoping Nami would relax a bit.

We finished unloading everything from the car and headed to the bar. We chose a bar close to our new house so we could get to know the local spots better, although it was likely we’d end up partying at our place more than once.

We entered the bar, where Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, and Robin were already quite lively.

"Guys!!!" Nami shouted, completely unaware that she was drawing everyone’s attention in the bar.

Everyone greeted us enthusiastically. It had been months since I had seen them, so we spent a long time saying hello. We started catching up, each of us updating the group on what we’d been up to. Meanwhile, Zoro drank at lightning speed, seemingly unaffected, and Luffy ate quickly, as usual.

"Y/N, don’t you want something to drink? Come on, it’s on me," said Sanji, guiding me to the bar without waiting for an answer.

The bar was packed with all kinds of people, though the bar itself was clear, except for a group of men. I made eye contact with one of them, who was chatting with two women, and then turned his gaze towards our group.

"Luffy!!!" the man shouted.

Luffy turned around, and a huge smile appeared on his face. He ran over, hugging the man, practically plowing through the bar like a bull in a china shop. I’d say he almost knocked over those women. "Shanks!!!!!!!"

The two of them started chatting animatedly.

"Y/N, I got this for you," Sanji said, snapping me out of my daze.

I wasn’t sure what he had ordered, but I trusted his taste in food and drinks, so I grabbed the glass and returned to the table.

The night flew by, with everyone drinking and chatting excitedly.

"Luffy, who was that guy?" Nami asked.

"He’s not that guy. It’s Shanks, he’s a friend of mine," Luffy responded, laughing.

"You have the weirdest friends," Nami repeated, and we all burst out laughing.

"Nami, we should probably head out, or we won’t be able to get up tomorrow," I suggested.

Nami nodded, and we all got up to leave.

"I’ll walk you home, girls, and you too, Robin," Sanji said, trying to wrap his arms around us.

"We’re fine, Sanji. You’d better walk Robin so she’s not alone," Nami said, dismissing Sanji’s offer.

Nami and I got back home and agreed to clean up the next day since we still had a week before our PhD program started.

I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed, ready to fall asleep, when I heard noises outside. My window faced the front yard and several windows of the neighboring house, so every time someone passed by, I could hear them. I just prayed they weren’t a family with loud kids. I took advantage of the night to look out the window without being seen and finally see who our new neighbors were.

The man from the bar, Luffy’s friend, was walking with the two women he had been talking to. All three were clearly drunk, stumbling across the parking lot while the women complimented the man’s car, and he showed off, flirting with both of them.

"Nami!!!!!!!" I ran to her room, hoping she wasn’t asleep yet.

"Y/N?!?! Are you okay? What’s going on?" Nami responded, clearly disoriented.

"Come quickly, our neighbor is outside. You won’t believe who it is."

We both rushed back to my room like the nosy people we were, hiding as best we could behind the curtains, watching the whole scene.

"That old guy is our neighbor? Great. Looks like we’ll have some good entertainment," Nami said.

I burst out laughing. "He’s not that old, and if he’s Luffy’s friend, I’m sure he’s cool."

"Or a total weirdo… Looks like he’s gone inside. Well, I’m off to bed. If you find out anything else, let me know tomorrow," Nami said with a mischievous smile as she left my room.

She closed the door, and I turned around, just in time to notice that right in the window across from mine, our dear neighbor—shirtless—was laughing and chatting with the women in what appeared to be the master bedroom. Suddenly, he looked out the window, his gaze meeting mine, as I stood in the middle of my window, completely visible.

Our eyes locked, and a huge smile spread across his face. My heart started racing, pounding in my chest. I quickly closed the curtains, my face flushed and burning. I jumped into bed, hiding under the covers. As I calmed down, the image of his muscular body kept popping into my mind. He might be older, but it was clear he was hot.

The next morning, Nami and I unpacked all our belongings and carefully organized everything.

"Why don’t we invite all our friends from the city tonight? It’ll be fun," Nami suggested with a mischievous tone.

"Alright, just hope nothing gets broken, or the landlord will kill us."

We began calling and messaging all our friends and then started setting everything up. We dressed in our favorite outfits, and Nami did her favorite hairstyle on me. "This is the one that looks best on you. You look gorgeous!" she said every time she styled my hair like this.

The night came quickly, along with the guests. We greeted old friends and acquaintances. The party was in full swing. Zoro and Nami were competing to see who could drink the most without passing out, Usopp and Robin were playing beer pong with a few others, while Luffy ate as much as he could. Sanji was busy making drinks for anyone who asked.

"Could you make me a piña colada?" I asked as I approached the table where Sanji was mixing various drinks.

"For you, anything," he replied, winking.

Suddenly, a loud noise interrupted us. The doorbell rang sharply, and Nami rushed to open the door.

Behind it stood our neighbor, clearly fed up.

"What, did you come to join the party, old man?" Nami teased.

"It’s Monday. I have work tomorrow. Could you at least turn the music down?" Shanks replied, ignoring Nami’s comment.

"Oh yeah? You had your little party yesterday, now it’s our turn. Buzz off, old buzzkill," Nami said, slamming the door in his face. "Let’s keep the party going!"

"Nami, what are you doing? We could get in trouble. We just got here," I said, running to open the door again.

The man was still there, his hand on the doorbell, ready to ring again. His surprised expression gave away that he hadn’t expected anyone to open the door.

"I’m calling the police if you don’t turn down the volume. If I don’t do it, another neighbor will. Do you realize people have work tomorrow?" he reprimanded us.

"Please don’t call the police. I’ll turn the music down, and if that’s not enough, we’ll end the party. But please, don’t call."

"You have 10 minutes, or I will," he responded coldly.

I didn’t like his tone at all. I had tried to apologize, and he was still being rude.

"Fine, then I’ll call the police and tell them how you were staring into my room yesterday, you freak," I said, slamming the door in his face.

Nami, who was still behind me watching the whole scene, burst out laughing. "It's been a while since you showed your sassy side, it was about time!"

We both laughed at the situation. "We got stuck with the annoying neighbor."

I headed back towards Sanji, but just before I got there, someone grabbed my arm.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, gorgeous?"

I turned, pulling my arm away forcefully from the person’s grip. Kid—my ex—his voice was unmistakable.

A year ago, right after we graduated from college, our relationship was at its worst. It was the most toxic relationship I’d ever had, and taking advantage of the fact that I was moving back to my hometown, I left him, thinking I’d never hear from him again.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was invited, though I didn't get an invite from you. Guess it got lost on the way," he replied with a smug look.

I responded with a disgusted face, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

"You know? I haven’t stopped thinking about you, not for a single day. Honestly, I only came tonight because I know we’re getting back together."

I threw a desperate glance in Sanji’s direction, and he immediately understood my non-verbal cues.

"Leave," Sanji said, approaching us.

"This doesn’t concern you, cook," Kid responded, clearly challenging him. "Get out of my sight."

"I said leave. Y/N doesn’t want to talk to you," Sanji replied, unfazed.

Kid got in Sanji's face, pushing him slightly while repeating, "You want a fight?" over and over.

Luffy and Zoro appeared from the nearby rooms, grabbing Kid and throwing him out through the front door.

"It’s best if you all leave," I said, my voice breaking.

I was overwhelmed and scared. The fact that Kid was back in town, knew I was here too, and even where I lived, made me anxious.

People quickly left the house after the scene. Nami turned off the music and started cleaning up the mess on the floor. I just stood there trembling.

"Don’t worry," Nami said while hugging me. "If he bothers you, the guys will take care of him. Nothing’s going to happen."

The rest of the week passed normally. We both started our PhDs, so we were so busy with work and tasks around the new house that the days flew by. Occasionally, we’d run into our dear neighbor, whom we awkwardly greeted—well, Nami did; I just ignored him. After our encounter, I didn’t even want to see him.

"He’s just an old freak, forget about him, Y/N," Nami said after hearing that I’d bumped into him by the window and that he’d waved at me. "I’m sure he’s waiting by the window for you to look out," she added with a laugh.

"Ughh, I don’t even want to think about it."

It was Friday morning. We’d been here for almost a week, and the sun had been shining every day except today, when it was pouring rain non-stop. That night, we had plans to meet at the bar right after class or work, so I wore a skirt, my best top, a cute sweater, and high boots.

The day went by normally, except for the constant rain. As I left, I headed to the bus stop. A huge Range Rover passed by, splashing through a puddle, soaking me from head to toe and ruining my outfit. Now I had no choice but to go home to change. "Damn idiot," I thought. I got on the bus, completely drenched, and shortly after, I got off, realizing I’d left my umbrella at the stop. I ran as fast as I could to the front door, which left me soaked to the bone.

To make matters worse, I couldn’t find my house keys, and Nami wasn’t home. I called her three times and sent her a ton of messages, but nothing—she didn’t answer. After 20 minutes, my wet clothes started to chill me to the bone, and I began to shiver from the cold. Nami still seemed oblivious, so I decided to text our group chat, but no one responded.

"What happened to you? Can’t get into the house?" My annoying neighbor was getting out of his Range Rover, holding grocery bags in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

"Yeah, I forgot my keys, and if you don’t mind, I’m going to keep trying to call my friend."

"You’re going to freeze. Want to come inside while you wait?" Shanks suggested, with a little smirk on his face.

TO BE CONTINUED

[skzdarlings]

the ride ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by @rosequartsz : chan with the prompt ❛ i want to fuck you so badly. ❜ like the reader is the same age as jeongin so chan kinda feels bad but at the same time he wants to corrupt the reader so bad cushsisjsis

+

original ask: requested by anonymous : Chan and ❛ please. make me feel good. no one else can like you. ❜ ❛ have a little trust in yourself, i know you can take it. ❜

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: friends to lovers, chan is a little older than reader, reader is not actually that innocent but pretends to be and they both get off on it lol. some not very safe driving lol keep ur eyes on the road. car sex, dirty talk, teasing, corruption play, puuuuure smut. word count: 2400 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

-

“That’s not fair,” Jeongin says.  “I called dibs.”

“Too bad.”  You stick your tongue out at him.  “Learn to run faster, loser.”

Jeongin scowls, once more relegated to the backseat of Chan’s car.   You are sitting pretty in the passenger seat for the fourth day in a row and Jeongin is playfully annoyed about it. 

You and your twin brother have been racing into Chan’s car since high school.  You are both at university now, but Chan still offers the occasional lift.  With storm season making public transit a bigger hassle than it’s worth, Chan has been offering more rides. 

Just because of the weather.  Not any other reason.  Of course.      

You smirk, casting a side-glance into the driver’s seat.  Chan is smiling at Jeongin through the rearview mirror, looking less like Channie, the boy of your teenage fantasies, and more like Bang Chan, the man of your adult dreams.  He is wearing a baseball cap and leather jacket, his whole demeanour oozing an effortless masculinity, the bearing of a competent man who knows he can do anything. 

And still, despite his well-earned cockiness, he has an undoubtedly shy side.  When he looks at you, the tips of his ears flame an embarrassed, fiery red, and his dimpled smile is almost boyish in its sweetness. 

“Right then,” he says.  Then, like the endearingly cheesy goofball he is, he adds, “All aboard, ready for takeoff!” 

“Jeongin,” you say, blinking innocently at your twin through the mirror.  “You have your presentation notes, right?  You don’t want to forget them.”

Jeongin double-checks his bag but you already know he won’t find them.  You deliberately took them out and placed them on the kitchen counter.

“Damn,” he says, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt.  “I thought I put them in here.  Sorry, I’ll be right back.” 

Jeongin practically flies out of the car and up the driveway, leaving you and Chan.  It happens quickly, before Chan can even compute it.  You can see the gears turning in his head, but you are faster, sighing melodramatically while gathering the hem of your skirt. 

“Silly boy,” you say.  “What should we do while he’s gone?”  You draw your skirt up your thighs just enough to tease the skin of your upper thighs. 

Chan is staring there with his mouth open, his words evaporating on his tongue.  He clears his throat after a second, ripping his gaze away.  He looks across the dashboard and laughs, a shy, awkward laugh. 

“Your brother will be back in a second,” Chan says.  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, yeah?”

He is white-knuckling the steering wheel, like all his restraint is being poured into that physical grip.  Even so, it is not hard to pry his hand off the wheel.  You know a stronger, more belligerent shove could not bend a determined Bang Chan, but the softest touch from your gentle hands will have him breaking in seconds.   

You are slow, casual despite your racing heart, guiding his hand onto your knee.  He makes a little noise that turns your whole body to pure, liquid heat.  You make a similar sound, a faint whimper in the back of your throat, as you slide his hand up your thigh. 

“Channie,” you say, your too-sweet, too-innocent voice part of your acting, but your breathlessness undoubtedly real. 

“Don’t—”  His voice breaks and he clears his throat.  “Don’t say my name like that.  You know—”  

“What do I know, Channie?” you ask, blinking at him with wide eyes while you curl his fingers around your thigh.  You bring your legs together, holding his hand between them.

He visibly swallows, throat bobbing.  The redness has spread from his ears down his neck. 

“We’ve talked about this, baby girl,” he says, his tone stricter, taking on that darker edge that makes your heart – and everything else – gush.   “We’ve been good so far, okay?”   If stolen kisses, open zippers, and groping touches count as good.  “You’re my – you’re my friend.  You should be like a little sister or something to me… yeah?  Yeah… Yeah!”  He shakes his head, pulling himself out of the distraction caused by you unzipping your jacket.  He squeezes your thigh, a firm, warning grip.  “Don’t make this so hard,” he says. 

“What’s hard for you, Channie?” you ask, reaching into his lap and touching his thigh, then higher, finding the evidence of his words.  A shiver moves across his shoulders, his breath catching as you cup your palm around the bulge in his jeans.  “Is it something I can help you with?”  You lick your bottom lip then smile. 

“Oh,” he says.  His eyes crinkle with amusement but there is a score of different emotions on his face, all of them smoldering.  “You really wanna play that game, huh?” 

There is no chance for an answer because Jeongin returns, hopping into the car with his notes.  You and Chan separate, looking out the dashboard window.  You pat your hot skin and try to slow your racing heart. 

Sensing the oddly silent tension, Jeongin narrows his eyes and looks between you.  Eventually, his expression sours like he smells something bad. 

“Oh my god,” he says, then punches Chan in the shoulder.  “Are you fucking my sister!”

“What!” Chan says, getting redder by the second.  “Jeongin, how could— I wouldn’t— I don’t—”

“What, you don’t fuck?” Jeongin asks, then laughs until he is wheezing.  “You can do better, man.”

“Jeongin, shut up!”  You reach back to smack at him, rubbing your hand all over his stupid face and messing up his hair while he wails in protest.   

“All right, all right!”  Chan says, breaking you up.  “Let’s just… let’s just go, okay?  Okay.” 

“Yes, daddy,” you say, mostly out of spite. 

Chan squeaks. 

Jeongin pretends to gag then slumps against his window.  

“I’m gonna need to start taking the bus,” he says, morose.

-

Fortunately, thanks to the impromptu revelation of your shenanigans, it does not take much convincing for Jeongin to find another ride home.  When Chan pulls into the campus parking lot to pick you up, you approach his vehicle with a grin and a wink.    

You slide into the passenger seat, smoothing down your skirt while he sighs.  It sounds more amused than frustrated.    

“Where’s your brother?” he asks. 

You shrug with theatrical exaggeration. 

“Right,” Chan says, starting the car.  “Got it.”

He puts a hand on your headrest to leverage himself, looking out the rear window as he reverses the car.  That proximity alone gets you hot, the temptation to grab him already strong.  You play a patient game, as always, stealing glances and suggestive smiles while he drives. 

Halfway home, you put a hand on his knee.  At first your touch is innocent, tracing slow circles on the denim, then you get a little more brazen, fingertips brushing up his thigh. 

“Baby,” he says in that warning voice, eyes on the road.  Holding the wheel with one hand, he uses the other to stop your wandering ascent. 

“Yes?” you ask with all that faux-innocence.  Rather than fight his touch, you guide his hand to your lap, placing it on your knee. 

Unlike this morning, he does not play nice.  You make a startled, high-pitched sound when he immediately dives under your skirt, his rough palm pressing down where you are already aching.   Your thighs slam shut out of instinct but his hand is where it wants to be, his fingers curled around your pussy in a proprietary touch. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice playfully mean.  He grinds the heel of his palm against your throbbing clit.  He never takes his eyes off the road.  “Isn’t this what you wanted?”  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, though you cannot help but rock yourself against his hand. 

“Mmm,” he says, patting your pussy then stroking your thigh, guiding your legs open again.  “We’ll see about that.” 

You keep your eyes ahead too, pretending not to notice when he glances at you.  Then you gasp because he reaches out and tugs the zipper on your hoodie.  You instinctively clutch it, wearing nothing but a bra underneath, having taken off your other layers to surprise him.  He is the one surprising you, a secret sexy menace under all that shy sweetness.  He unzips the hoodie halfway then reaches past the material to squeeze a handful.  Your body practically sings under his touch. 

“Channie,” you say, breathless again. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says.  “Channie’s gonna take care of you, yeah?  Always.” 

“Take care of me how?”  Your question toys with that false innocence, the little game that gets you both hot, but there is genuine curiosity there too.   This game has been escalating slowly over time.  You want more and you are starting to get desperate. 

Chan looks at you.  His gaze moves over your mouth then your body, your skirt rucked up and breasts practically spilling out of your hoodie.  He swears, looking back at the road with that red blush on his ears again. 

“Fuck,” he says.  “I want to fuck you so badly.  You have no idea.” 

His words have a raw, honest edge.  He swallows, hard.  You feel like one tightly coiled ball of tension, ready to snap apart. 

“Please,” you say in that breathy voice.  “Make me feel good.  No one else can like you.” 

You do not make it all the way home.  There is a nearby lookout point at the park, a shrouded parking area that has undoubtedly seen its fair share of hook-ups.  Chan parks there and you dive at each other like randy teenagers.  You climb into his lap, bumping everything on the console on your way, the honking the horn with your backside for good measure.  It makes you both giggle.

Then your laughter is swallowed by hot, desperate, open-mouthed kisses.

“Mmm,” you hum against his lips.  You push his hat off his head and sink your fingers in his curly hair.  “Channie, please,” you say. 

He cups the back of your neck, holding your head where he wants it so he can kiss you thoroughly.  His ravishing touch leaves you shaking with need, rocking against him to no relief. 

“Poor baby,” he says with a little laugh, squeezing your neck then drawing his hand down the curve of your chest.  He unzips the rest of your hoodie.  His mouth follows the same path as his hands, down your chest and back up again. 

He is working you up, deftly and swiftly, using just a few well-placed throat kisses, a few flicks of his fingertips across the sensitive peaks of your breasts.  He seems so composed under you, other than the flush to his complexion, the heat to his skin that has him shedding his leather jacket.   You feel completely undone, half-naked and writhing in his lap.  Your hands tangle together, fumbling around his belt. 

“Let me,” he says.  He gets his belt open and his fly undone, then his hands are on you.  He doesn’t just tug your panties to the side but rips them apart, snapping the seams like they’re nothing.  Then those strong fingers are inside you, finding just how wet and ready you are for him.  He makes a low, guttural sound, thumping his head against the headrest.  “Fuck, baby girl,” he says.  “You know what you do to me?” he asks. 

“I dunno, Channie.”  You pout and bat your eyelashes.  “You better show me.” 

He laughs.  He holds your hips and moves you, positions you where he wants you.  You are pressed so close together, chest-to-chest, so you cannot see when he finally enters you.  But you feel it, hot and hard and filling you, stretching you, almost painful but burning so good.  You slap a hand to the roof of the car, eyes closing as you moan. 

“S-so much,” you say, because it feels like you have been sinking forever and he is still not all the way inside. 

“Yeah, I know, baby,” he says.  His thumb is expertly circling your clit while your whole body seems to soften, changing to fit him, like you were made for this moment.  “That’s it,” he says.  “Have a little trust in yourself.  I know you can take it.”

His thrusts are small, his hands guiding your hips over him, grinding him deep inside you.   Then you are clutching his shoulders, moaning into his neck as he fucks you slowly and steadily.  It is everything you needed and not enough, only spurring more desire.  You know you will need him again, the way he needs you.  Just the way he says your name as he holds you, as he fucks you, as he takes you apart and puts you together again.   It feels like that when you come, when he fucks you through it, saying your name and praising you. 

“Good girl,” he says, barely above a breath.  “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

When he gets close, he pushes the seat back.   You get on your knees between his legs and take him in your mouth.  He comes with a low groan and another breathless slur of your name.  Then you are back in his lap and his hands are everywhere, clutching you possessively to his chest.  You are both breathing hard, riding the slow come-down of your frantic desperation. 

“Fuck,” he eventually says.  He seems shy again, giggling as he looks at you with a blush on his face.  “We, uh, we just did that, in the car, uh wow, yeah, I, uh—”

“Channie,” you say with a laugh of your own, grabbing his face and kissing him.  He smiles into the kiss, returning it with the same tender softness. 

You kiss for a long time, ignoring the world around you.  Eventually you have to crawl back into your seat and mostly redress yourselves, still smiling and giggling at each other the whole time.  Your phone was buzzing in your bag so you finally check it, rolling your eyes at the message there.   

You show it to Chan who laughs, blushing again, but nods. 

“Right,” he says, “We should probably go get him.”

You laugh too, sending an emoji with its tongue sticking out in response to Jeongin’s message that reads:  My ride fell through.  When you are done not-fucking each other, can you come back and get me?  Thanks.  Sluts.   

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Skin You With My Tongue

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written smut, p in v, fingering, oral (fem rec), brief hand job

Summary: What has gotten into Daryl? It doesn’t matter because you like it!

A/N: I haven’t been feeling great but I wanted to finish this before taking a break. Then I’ll work on my last request. Once again, I don’t think it’s great but ah well. I’m trying to just be thankful to be writing again. I hope some enjoyment comes from it!

*gif is not mine

You had no idea how you’d ended up in your current predicament: flat on your back, naked, with an equally naked Daryl Dixon devouring you like a man starved. You weren’t complaining by any stretch of the imagination. Though he had claimed to have little experience, the man deserved medals for the sounds he was wringing out of you with his tongue.

Anyway, back to the question of how did you end up here?

The day had started like any other. Your group was still new to Alexandria. While most had been given jobs, you and Daryl had not yet been set to work by Deanna. So, Rick had easily agreed to letting you both go hunt. Daryl had refused to give up his crossbow when you had first arrived in the community, but you had to sign out a weapon.

“Bullshit.” Daryl growled from where he leaned against the doorframe of the armory. You couldn’t say that you didn’t agree with him.

Regardless, you played by the rules, got your gun, strapped the weapons to the back, and climbed onto Daryl’s bike. He had decided the two of you could go further out today, not having much luck the past couple of days in the direct vicinity.

Daryl was your closest friend in your tight knit group and had been since you all had been forced to wander around in the cold before the prison. He was difficult to read and his emotional walls were high and thick. Somehow, you had been able to scale those walls, if not shatter them completely. You accepted him without question but you didn’t take any shit from him either. You weren’t afraid to call him out. In fact, the first time he had willingly come to sit next to you by the fire was just after you had asked him if he was “violating the Georgia sodomy law by having his head that far up his own ass.” You’d been close ever since.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his stomach and rested your chin on his shoulder, making kissy noises at him when he glanced back at you.

“Stop.” He grumbled before starting up the motorcycle. You simply gave his midsection a squeeze and could practically feel him roll his eyes as you headed through the gate.

The first part of the day was uneventful. Daryl stashed the bike before you walked and walked, finding nothing to track. About midday, the two of you came across a gorgeous lake. The water was clear and having only crossed two walkers on your trek there, you decided that a swim was an excellent idea after lunch. You didn’t ask Daryl, truly figuring he wouldn’t mind and that, hell, maybe he’d even join you.

You didn’t look at him as you stripped down to your bra and panties, mismatched as they were. If you had, you would have seen him comically fumble and drop the piece of dried meat in his hand.

“The blue hell ya doin’, girl?” He snapped after righting himself.

“Cooling off.” You gave him a smile over your shoulder before mimicking his frown with added exaggeration. “Maybe you should do the same, you old grump.”

He scoffed, keeping his eyes averted. “You’re bein’ careless. Careless gets ya dead.”

“I’m not going in unprotected!” You spun toward him, drawing his gaze toward you before pointing to the small knife tucked securely between your breasts. You couldn’t help but laugh when his face reddened and he looked away so quickly that you could swear you heard his neck crack. “I won’t be long.”

And you weren’t. Barely twenty minutes later, you were sitting down next to him, fully clothed albeit damp, but feeling much better.

“Ready to head out?” You asked cheerfully.

He did not share your enthusiasm, scowling as he stood and secured his crossbow to his back. “Been ready.”

“Well, aren’t you just a bucket of sunshine?” He had already stalked off by the time you gathered up everything. You had to sprint to catch up.

After a couple of hours, Daryl finally caught the trail of a deer and began tracking it. You followed quietly, watching his methods and learning everything you could. You knew how to hunt, thanks to him, but you were always eager to sharpen your skills. When the animal was finally within sight, the archer kneeled after signaling for you to stand still just beside him. He was lining up the shot when something caught his eye to the right of where you stood.

“Get down!” He whispered sharply, grabbing your arm and pulling. The sudden jerk caught you off guard and you were thrown off balance, crashing into him. He fell flat on his back with you on top, your palms on either side of his head with your chest almost directly in his face. With half a dozen walkers shuffling into the area, you couldn’t move lest you be detected.

The deer sensed the danger and ran, the group of undead following mindlessly. As they passed where you and Daryl hid, you instinctively lowered, feeling his breath against your shirt. It took several minutes for the threat to move far enough away that you felt comfortable to lift yourself up and sit back, effectively placing your ass on his stomach.

“Well, that sucks. That was a big doe.” You complained. When he didn’t comment, you looked at him. He was propped up on his elbows, looking anywhere but at you. His face and neck were flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “You okay?” You queried with general concern.

“M’fine. Can ya get offa me?”

“Oh. Right.” You stood quickly, as did he. His back was quickly turned to you.

“We’re done. Let’s go.”

Your head tilted, brow creased in confusion. “We’ve got hours of daylight left. Shouldn’t we—”

“Said we’re done.” He was already walking away, leaving you staring at his back and wondering what you’d done wrong.

The ride back was tense and silent. You even chose to just lightly place your hands below his ribs and keep some space between your bodies instead of how you would usually have a tight hold on him.

When you entered Alexandria, Daryl parked the bike and got off, leaving you there, confused and more than a little upset. He passed Rick by without a word, the former sheriff turning to look at you with an eyebrow cocked. You gave him a shrug.

“I have no idea.” Shaking your head, you grabbed the gun from where it was secured to the back and went to sign it in before returning to the home you shared with Daryl and Carol. He was nowhere to be found on the first floor, leaving you to assume he had retreated to his room in the basement. With a heavy sigh, you went upstairs to shower.

Evening was upon you before you knew it, the sun having only set a few minutes before Carol invited you to walk to the other house for dinner with the group. You weren’t feeling all that hungry so you told her you’d be there in a few minutes. It was a lie. You had no intention of leaving your room.

Turning over onto your side, you closed your eyes. You had just drifted off when there came another knock. “Ugh.” You groaned and threw back the blankets, remaining in just your tank top and underwear since you didn’t plan on leaving with her. “Carol, I really don’t—” Once the door opened, you screeched to a halt, meeting the impossibly blue eyes of your favorite bowman. “Daryl.” You blinked at him blankly.

“Hi.” He nearly whispered. “Can I, uh—?” He gave a vague motion toward the inside of your room.

“Right. Uh, yeah, right, sure.” You stammered while stepping aside. He stepped in and you turned to push the door closed, a gasp leaving your mouth when you felt him press himself against your back. “D-Daryl?”

“First, the lake. Then your tits in my face when the walkers came. An’ now—this?” His finger was tracing the outline of your panties over your hip.

“What? I didn’t—”

He growled, a low sound in his throat, as he spun you around and pressed you back against the door with his body. He grabbed your chin to force your gaze on him.

“Didn’t what? G’on. Tell me.”

“Daryl, I didn’t mean anything by any of that.” You gulped, though you weren’t afraid. Exactly the opposite. Heat and wetness was pooling at your core, your skin feeling electrified where he was touching you. Nevertheless, you couldn’t lie to him. “I really wasn’t trying to fuck with you, I swear.”

There was an instant change in his eyes and it broke your heart. He released you with a muttered “shit,” his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. The dim light of your bedside lamp was enough for you to see his face reddening and the slight tremble to his frame.

“Y/N, I—fuck—m’sorry.” He quickly attempted to sidestep you and reached for the doorknob, but you were faster and blocked his path. His head shot up, eyes wide and panicked. He had absolutely misread the day’s happenings but he wasn’t wrong on one thing.

“I wasn’t intentionally fucking with you.” You repeated, your tongue snaking out to wet your lips before you continued. “But I would have if I had known it’d end with you here like this.” His arm dropped away from the knob and you entered into his space, pressing your chest against him to hover your lips over his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Daryl Dixon.”

And now you were here.

“Fuuuuck!” You moaned, pressing the back of your head into the pillow before raising it to look down at the man between your thighs. Your fingers twisted and tugged his hair as your hips rolled, grinding your cunt against his tongue. Daryl growled against your clit, the sound vibrating against the swollen nub. His large hands pressed down on your inner thighs, holding you open while also effectively rendering you immobile.

A whine slipped past your lips when his tongue once again pressed tightly against you, sweeping up and down before he closed his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucked. You tried to lift your hips but he pressed down harder, his nails biting into your skin. He removed his mouth from you, dark eyes glaring from just above your mound.

“Be still.”

His gravelly voice was even lower, darkened with lust and demand. You found you couldn’t help but obey. Breathing through your nose, you nodded eagerly. He kept his gaze locked on your face while his right hand lifted from your thigh, fingertips whispering over your flesh to dance down to your core. He ran a single digit through your slick once…twice, never breaking eye contact.

Your hands left his hair and fisted into the sheets of your bed, but otherwise, you remained frozen in place, panting through the pleasure of stretching around his middle finger breaching your opening. He slid in to the first knuckle, then the second, pausing only briefly before pushing in all the way. The sound that left your throat was positively sinful. You dropped your head back to the pillow and focused on not moving.

“Good girl.” He praised you, rewarding you by drawing his digit almost all the way out before sinking back inside, thus beginning a steady rhythm of which he continued. When you remained unmoving, he lowered his head once again to lavish attention onto your clit.

Who was this man? This was a completely new Daryl. In control, demanding, vocal, and positively panty-dropping. A new part of him for you to accept and adore. A part of him that, to your knowledge, only you had seen. One that you definitely hoped you would see again and again!

“Daryl, fuck!” You cried out when his index finger joined the first. You shivered almost violently when you felt him smile against your pussy.

“In a minute.” He purred, pumping into you faster.

Your hands moved from the sheets to the headboard, palms flat to keep the thrusts of his hand from pushing you upward. The moans and cries were constant, his mouth and fingers igniting a fire low in your belly. The knot was twisting tighter and tighter, and you grit your teeth when you felt the sparks of it begin to shoot down to your toes and up into your chest.

“Nngh, Daryl! I’m—” You panted, eyes screwed shut and legs trembling. He curled his fingers, driving them against that soft spot inside you mercilessly while his tongue and teeth tortured your clit. Just when you thought you might die from the pleasure of it all, that knot in your belly pulled taunt and snapped. Wave after wave of euphoria traveled through you, broken moans of his name tumbling from your lips like a mantra. You had grabbed his hair again at some point, holding him against your center with your thighs attempting to trap him there. He didn’t seem to mind, too busy eagerly lapping at the nectar you spilled while riding your high.

When you went limp against the mattress, he pulled his fingers from within you, leaving you to whine at the emptiness they left behind. You were still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pressed one last kiss against your sensitive clit before sitting up on his knees. You blinked away the haze in your vision to watch him suck on those two fingers that had just fucked you senseless, your juices still glistening on his face.

You weren’t sure what came over you but you dove forward almost clumsily while he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He caught you easily with the other arm and pulled you against his chest, your arms encircling his neck to pull his lips to yours. The kiss was desperate, all tongues and teeth. The absolute need to be close to him in that moment was something you couldn’t explain. When you pulled back to look at him, your pupils blown wide and lips swollen, it was as if he understood before your sex-addled brain could form any words.

“I gotcha, girl.” Daryl said softly, a contradiction to how he had commanded you only moments prior. You nodded and let him kiss you again. It was tender this time, slow and deliberate. The archer began to lay you back. He caught himself with one arm while the other stayed behind your head to control your descent until you were once again on the pillows.

His mouth left yours and began to roam across your jaw. He nuzzled his cheek against yours in a way that you found absolutely adorable but then he was pressing open-mouthed kisses below your ear. Large hands traveled to your chest to cup both of your breasts, calloused fingers exploring the supple mounds before settling to roll your pebbled nipples between them. He kissed his way down, that sinful mouth eager to take over worshiping that part of you.

“Daryl,” you gasped, arching up into him when his mouth closed around your right nipple, “mmmm, Daryl, please!” You could feel his erection against your thigh, hot and hard and yet completely ignored. “Please—” you tried again, the plea coming out more like a pathetic whine.

“I know whatcha want.” He murmured against the skin between your breasts. He latched onto your left nipple with his teeth while his left hand took over stimulating the right. “Whatcha need.” You did the only thing you could and twisted your fingers into his hair, drawing your bottom lip in between your teeth with a quiet whimper. His touch left you suddenly and you opened your eyes to find him directly above you and lowering down until his lips were just barely touching yours. “But I wantcha to say it anyway.” You felt every syllable against your mouth, the simple action enough to make your cunt clench around nothing. Goddamn, this man knew how to play your body like an instrument.

His fingers were ghosting down your left side only for his hand to maneuver between your bodies. Grasping his cock, he slid it through your folds, gathering your juices in agonizingly slow strokes. Each time the tip of him grazed your clit, your back arched from the mattress with a cry on your lips.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Daryl.” You whined, anchoring your legs around his hips. You dug your heels into the skin just below his ass in a desperate attempt to pull him into you. Too bad he was much stronger than you.

He hummed in response but only began to stroke himself, spreading your slick along his shaft. “Tell me whatcha want me to do, girl.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were going to literally combust if he wasn’t inside you at that moment. You weaved your arms underneath his and pulled at him. “Fuck me, Daryl. Please, please, fuck me!”

He chuckled. The asshole actually chuckled but you didn’t care because he then immediately entered you in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt. His arms nearly gave out as your wet heat welcomed him, stretching and molding to his cock as if your body was made just for him. He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder but you were too far gone to notice. The pleasurable burn of accommodating him brought you to new heights. You almost came right on the spot.

“Fuck.” He breathed against your neck, fighting to keep himself in check.

After you both had a moment, Daryl pushed himself up onto his forearms, drawing back his hips slowly before snapping forward and earning a broken moan from you. The feeling of him moving inside you was overwhelming, the push and pull driving every thought from your mind to leave only the ability to feel. And you wanted more.

You clawed at his back, each thrust forward tearing a cry from your throat. You barely registered that his mouth was on yours, but responded immediately, craving the taste of him. The smoke and pine mingled with the taste of your cunt on his tongue and you couldn’t get enough. You swallowed his delectable moan when your hips came up to meet this thrusts, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing off the walls of your room. Bringing a hand to his hair, you pulled his head back, pussy clenching when the action made him hiss between his teeth.

Teeth met his skin, biting down just above his collar bone. The salty taste brought a moan into your throat. You marked him there, sucking hard until you brought blood to the surface and then you released him. “You—feel so good.” You panted before your mouth was back on his. He pulled back suddenly and you whined at the loss of his weight but then he was sitting back on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking into you so hard that you saw stars. It was just on the good side of painful, your cunt spasming around his cock as the familiar heat began to build in your belly.

Daryl didn’t stay that way way long. He released your hips and leaned forward to use the headboard as leverage, pounding you with such force that you again had to brace yourself with your palms. Your cries mixed with his moans and grunts and you prayed that Carol was still away. The angle was intense, each thrust had his tip pressing roughly against your sweet spot, building your pleasure at a pace you wished would slow.

“Daryl, I’m—I’m gonna—” you couldn’t get the words out between breaths and moans, but he knew from the way you tightened around him that you were nearing the precipice. And he was determined to throw you over the edge first.

He released the headboard and grabbed your arms, yanking you up while he sat back on his heels. You grabbed for his shoulders and then encircled his neck, resting one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder blade. He moved his hands to your hips, helping you to bounce on him, spearing yourself on his cock and driving it deeper. Your moans became pleas and then a chant of his name, mouth hanging agape between words and breaths and eyes screwed shut.

“Cum for me.” He grunted against your jaw and that was all it took. You were almost certain you screamed but you couldn’t hear it, vision blacking out as euphoria swallowed you. You came back to yourself as the waves began to ebb, Daryl continuing to fuck you through. Your body felt heavy and uncoordinated and you pulled back a bit to clumsily seek out his mouth, greedily drinking down each sound he offered as he chased his own release. His grip on your hips would leave bruises, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

His movements grew sloppy and you could feel him beginning to twitch and pulse inside you. You pulled your mouth from his and watched him until he pulled you from his lap. You moved quickly, aware of his actions, and wrapped your hand around him, pumping him fast and hard. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hands gripping your thighs while he fought to breathe through the sensation. His teeth were clenched and his eyes tightly closed, sweat shining on his skin and you were sure it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

Half a dozen more strokes before you twisted your hand and he cried out, muscles freezing and face contorting into a grimace of pure ecstasy. He breathed out your name, hips jerking and ropes of cum painting your hand and both of your thighs. No, that was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

You pulled his mouth to yours before he could come all the way down, relishing each twitch of his muscles. When you pulled away, he finally opened his eyes and swayed on the spot. He seemed dazed but when his gaze met yours, he leaned forward to kiss you. It was gentle, almost hesitant. As if he didn’t know whether or not you’d welcome it.

“That was amazing.” You whispered, finally catching your breath.

“Yeah.” He replied quietly.

You brought a hand to the side of his face, watching all the courage melt away. His already flushed face was growing impossibly redder. You couldn’t help but smile. He had been dominant and commanding only to morph right back into the Daryl you had fallen in love with.

Your eyes widened.

Shit.

You were in love with him.

You were actually in love with Daryl.

You didn’t move when he got up to grab a towel, slipping on his boxers while he was at it. You still didn’t move as he cleaned you up, his mouth moving once he was done but no sound registering. He snapped his fingers in front of your face and you flinched.

“What’d you say?”

“Ya okay?” His brow was drawn inward in concern. He looked so, so nervous and you just wanted to pull him onto the bed and hold him.

“Yeah, I’m great.” You beamed.

He nodded and worried his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing over at his clothes. “Guess I should go.”

Your face fell as he reached for his pants. “Why?” Daryl froze and looked at you, head tilted. “You could stay. Here. With me.” You offered, your own face reddening. He stayed in the awkward position of halfway reaching toward his shirt but was obviously considering your words.

“Ya want me to stay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” You smiled sincerely. He nodded and straightened, coming back around to the other side of the bed. He sat stiffly against the headboard, chewing his lip again. You started to lean against him when there came a soft knock at the door. You both looked up and then at one another.

Busted.

You both scrambled to get dressed and it would have been comical had you not been thinking of who could be on the other side of the door. Carol. Rick. Michonne. Oh god, Carl! You looked back at him just as he pulled his shirt over his head, an apologetic expression on your face. Turning the knob and pulling the door open, you smiled innocently at—

No one.

“What the—” You leaned out and looked down each hall to find them empty. However, at your feet were two wrapped plates of food. One with a note addressed to Daryl and the other to you. In Carol’s handwriting.

You looked around for the woman once more while picking up the plates and stepped back into the room, kicking the door shut. Eyebrows raised, you crossed the space to hand Daryl his and then placed yours on the bed, removing the note and unfolding it.

“Good for you. Now tell him that you love him.”

You almost laughed but held it, simply folding your note and putting it in your bedside drawer. Daryl was looking at his own with a raised brow before he folded it and put it in his pocket.

“M’starvin’.” He announced, plopping onto your bed while unwrapping his food. He watched you smile and follow suit, gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

His note?

“Don’t be stupid, Pookie. She loves you too.”

[gluion]

02:48 ➵ park gunwook

park gunwook x reader

you’re set on playing some more games of valorant, and gunwook is trying to change your mind.

general genre/warnings ➵ established relationship, fluff, suggestive, lots of kissing, hickey moment…, valorant mention

word count ➵ 800 words

a/n ➵ happy birthday @shegotthewoobies <3 ily and i hope you like this drabble :DD if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog & leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

gunwook wishes he isn’t the needy type. the one who can handle the distance. the one who can keep his hands to himself. the one who can fall asleep without you by his side. he hopes he can be the one to fulfill your every request, regardless of the hours or miles it may take.

he likes to think he’s made for you, but the reality is that he needs you.

before gunwook left for work, he promised you a few matches of valorant. his busy schedule didn’t give you two enough time in the day to spend with each other. all you had were hours made for sleep. although you understood gunwook’s schedule, only wanting him to rest before another day filled with work, he couldn’t share the same sentiments as you. all he wants is to be around you; intertwine fingers, and graze his lips over the expanse of your skin. despite your protests, it all falls on deaf ears as he cuts you off with a single kiss before taking his leave.

yet, work is spontaneous. he’ll never know if it’ll be a day where he waits for hours to pass by or to chase them.

gunwook tried to conceal his fatigue, peppering your face with kisses before telling you he’ll shower before he hops on the game. despite your worried eyes, he leads you to your chair before making his way to the washroom.

although he was tired from today’s work, he enjoyed the few matches he got to play. regardless of taerae’s trashtalk, matthew’s missed shots, and taerae’s partner’s whines, his stress levels subsided—all thanks to you. still, he couldn’t fight off the exhaustion.

“hey, i think i’m done for today,” gunwook says, earning a series of groans.

“no! we can’t end here. i mean, we can’t end on a loss!” regardless of taerae’s attempt to make him stay, he already closed the game. 

“bye guys.” he doesn’t wait for another word to leave his friends before he drops the discord call. as he looks over to his right, he sees your screen is on the lobby. he stands up from his seat, expecting you to take your leave until you pull out your phone. 

“hey, let him go to sleep. i’m down to play some unrated. but if you guys find someone else to fill, i’m also up for more ranked matches.”

gunwook can’t help but pout. he should’ve known that you would play a few more games. after all, you’d always try to find time in the day to play. yet, he wishes you could read the words in between his farewell—hey, let’s go to sleep.

a hum leaves you. “okay, let me try to ask my friend if they want to play.”

for a moment, gunwook considers going to bed, leaving you one kiss before you can continue playing. this is your time to destress. but his feet take him to where you are and his hand quickly reaches for your mouse so that he can mute your microphone.

you move your headphones to the side. “hey, what are you—”

his arms find their spot around your waist. “baby,” his whine has you holding your breath, “can’t you play some more games tomorrow? i missed you.”

“gunwook,” a shy giggle leaves your lips, “i’ll just play one or two more games. i’m pretty sure matthew and taerae are trying to find someone to fill.”

then, he nestles his face into your neck. while his nose grazes your skin, you let out a quiet exhale. but the moment you feel his lips, your eyes shut close. out of instinct. out of comfort. out of desire.

“c’mon, i’m sure they’ll understand.” his lips continue to cover every inch of your neck as his hands sneak under your shirt, fingers drawing shapes on your hips. gunwook’s persuasion is hard to ignore.

feigning ignorance, you say, “but i won’t get to play tomorrow. just one game.”

he musters a sigh and you think you won the battle, until his lips latch onto your neck. blunt teeth scratch against your skin as his tongue darts out, sucking in the spot. a soft moan leaves you as you throw your head back.

taerae’s shouts leak out of your headphones but you have no interest in hearing what he has to say.

gunwook’s lips leave you and you try to steady your breathing. you hate his effect on you. “c’mon, let’s go to bed.”

you need a few seconds before you swallow your shame. “to sleep?”

he giggles before he pulls back, allowing you to meet his gaze. “depends if you’ll quit valorant now or later.” and when you spot the smirk that rests on his lips, you don’t think twice about disconnecting from the call without saying goodbye.

taglist: @kflixnet @blankjournal

[loudclan-clangen]

Loudclan - Moon 22: Part 1

Eklutna gives birth to her first litter: a sweet tom, a quiet tom, and an inquisitive tom.

The healers are unable to stop the bleeding. Eklutna dies at 100 moons old. Her kits are unnamed.

[Ooo, cliffhanger! But, then again, is it really? I mean, we all KNOW who the father is. It’s like half of the asks in my inbox. Y’all don’t even need me, heck, I could go on vacation for a month and just leave you guys to it! All jokes, of course, I LOVE all of the speculating and guessing you guys have been doing, and the only reason I haven’t been replying to it is that some of you guys are TOO GOOD (like, I had to double check that I hadn't accidentally leaked my own notes document good). In all seriousness though, I am going to be taking a break! I am still absolutely enjoying doing this and plan to continue for as long as you guys will stick around, but in order to stay in that positive headspace I have to take time off occasionally. Don’t worry, I won’t be gone! I’ll still be receiving and answering asks/fan art/messages it will just be slowed significantly. I’ll also be working behind the scenes to put together something special for you guys as a reward for being patient with my little vacation (Keep an eye out for a poll regarding this)! Oh, and if you have any suggestions/requests for how the blog could be better organized now is the perfect time to send those in. Anyway, this is all to say “Moon 22 Part 2 Oh No! The Consequences of my Actions!” is coming early July!]

Real talk though, apart from the announcement I just want to say how awesome you guys are. The community here has healed my heart in so many ways and I can’t wait for my own break to be over so that I can keep giving you guys pieces of this story to enjoy! While I’m gone please consider checking out other Clangen blogs on here! My personal favorites are @fallenclan the first blog I ever came across and very long running so it has lots to binge read, @jungleclan / @circus-clangen I’m like 99% sure they’re run by the same person but now that I’m typing it I’m second guessing myself, they’re also on break rn which means it is the perfect time to get caught up and ready for the next puzzle, @nettleclanstale who posts so frequently I am pretty sure they’re a wizard who pulls art straight out of their brain a instead of drawing it, and @crowclan-gen run by an irl friend of mine who’s just getting started out!

First Moon

Next Moon

[gi4hao]

some vernon x acts of service fluff for you ♡

vernon dyed his hair black this morning. he kind of loves it, and he hopes you will too. obviously the execution isn’t perfect; there are some dark stains on his ears and his forehead and he ruined two t-shirts in the process. but he knows how much you love that color on him.

this afternoon, vernon did some shopping. he needed a new shirt and he remembered the pretty bracelet that had caught your eye last time you were in town. he hopes you’ll be happy when he gifts it to you.

and this evening, vernon cooked dinner. it’s not done yet, but it will be in about thirty minutes. mingyu sent him an easy yet sophisticated recipe which he followed to the letter, and it turned out pretty well, at least on the outside. he hopes you’ll like it.

it’s past 7pm when he hears your key turn in the front door’s lock. the oven is a bit greasy, there’s oregano spilled on the counter, the wrapping of your gift is a little messy, and his ears are red from his attempts to remove the dye from his skin. perhaps from stress too.

and suddenly it hits him. he feels stupid. what if he’s doing too much? it is too much, isn’t it?

“hi handsome” your voice pulls him out of his panic as he exits the kitchen, his hands a little moist. you’re ready to lean in for a kiss, it’s almost muscle memory at this point, but the sight of his hair makes you pause.

“love it. and love the new shirt”, you reply, letting your hand brush against the strands of hair on his forehead before finally going in for the kiss. “what’s that smell? did you cook something?”

his ears turn a new shade of red as he grabs your arm to lead you to his living room. “i did, but you don’t wanna go in there right now”, he warns you, grabbing your arm to lead you to the living room instead.

it’s rather unusual for vernon to look so agitated, especially around you. you look at your surroundings, trying to notice anything different.

“is everything okay?”

he nods, a bit faster than usual, before digging his hand in his pocket and pulling out a small gift with a wonky ribbon on top.

“got you a little something today. but you can return it if you don’t like it, or even if you change your mind in a few days. or weeks. or even months, really.”

you’re only now noticing the dye stains on his skin, which draws a chuckle out of you. he looks so frantic it’s almost comical. without a word, you put the gift aside and stand up, pretty sure to know what this is all about.

“i already know i love that gift. i’ll love it forever and i would not trade it for any other. ever. because it comes from you, and that’s all i want.”

completely unfazed by how easily you saw right through him, he looks down at the hand you’re still holding, the one with a brand new silver ring on his fourth finger.

your words were heard and understood, but you can feel him internally tiptoeing around what’s really on his mind. his eyes, however, carry the same sweetness they always do when he looks at you.

“this is gonna sound really dumb but, i just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured to love… my gift. or to commit to it. i promise i won’t be mad if you tell me you don’t want it”, he tells you, grabbing your other hand to get a look at your own ring, the exact same as him.

it’s now 7:25pm, meaning that it’s been almost 24 hours since vernon has gotten down on one knee to ask the most nerve-wracking question of his entire life. 24 hours since you were legally allowed to call him your fiancé, a much awaited upgrade from the ‘boyfriend’ status.

last night had been a dream come true. but this morning, an uneasy feeling had started crawling into vernon’s mind, making him feel like maybe that dream of his would never come true after all.

dyeing his hair, making dinner, buying gifts, he had really thought about doing anything in his power to keep you from second-guessing your answer from yesterday.

still, nothing would calm his mind except maybe hearing the words from your mouth.

“i’ll love your gift because i love you. and because i spent the last 24 hours on cloud nine, thinking about how lucky i am that you proposed”, you told him in your calmest voice. “i’ll be honest, i even spent my entire day practicing saying “my husband” instead of “boyfriend”… and it sounds really, really nice.”

and that is the exact moment when the crushing weight of doubt and insecurity is lifted from vernon’s shoulders.

he still feels a bit stupid, but in a way that feels great, warm and almost comforting. for the second night in a row, he’s overwhelmed by the pure yet simple feeling of knowing his love is perfectly reciprocated.

“so… does that mean you still want me to be your husband?” he asks with a relieved smile as you trap him in the tightest hug, one hand running in his freshly dyed locks.

he loves you and you love him, that’s the one thing he doesn’t need to hope for. he knows it, and oh how he loves knowing it.

[benedictscanvas]

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

[valeriehalla]

I don’t know what to do about the internet. It’s getting worse, and getting worse faster than I think any of us ever could have imagined even just six years ago. Tumblr shot itself in the heart at the behest of Apple, at the behest of whichever nameless evangelical finance perverts are in charge of credit card policy, whereupon people like me (artists and people who like art) fled in droves to Twitter, the present state of which I don’t have it in me to be funny about.

Even after that one-two punch, Twitter and Tumblr are still the only (major) social media platforms I can stand to use. I mean, they’re the last ones left where you can, for example, see posts that your friends have made. I might have said that that seemed like the whole point of social media; every digital elsewhere has now collectively agreed that it is, in fact, social media’s greatest flaw. Your friends like to hang out and post weird jokes and titty drawings — they don’t know the first thing about your favorite marketing trends, let alone your unslakable thirst for 30-second phone videos. We have to move on: I’ll die if I think about it.

Uh — I wanna let you in a little. Here’s where I’m at, okay? I’m working on this project. I like it a lot: it’s a writing thing and an art thing and a music thing all at the same time. I’m still struggling with art burnout, but every day I get to sit down and write or compose for this thing is an unending delight, so on the balance it’s been great to work on. It’s taken me a while to get here, though — I’ve blown past all my estimates about when it’d be done. Still, it won’t be much longer.

In the mean time, I keep having these compulsive worries. I feel that I should be posting, but the nature of a long-form project like this is that I don’t have anything to post. I tweet complete nothings now and then, as if to announce my presence, like a lighthouse pulsing in the distance. And every week the websites get worse. They’re bleeding out, and it feels like some of my blood’s in there, maybe. Like, maybe you’d call me naïve, but it wasn’t that long ago that I really, really liked all this online stuff. I never had the hustle culture mindset about it: by good luck alone I managed to make a living posting the stuff I wanted to post on the places I wanted to post it.

The places I liked to post don’t exist anymore. My experience of using the internet feels hostile, alien. The ground beneath all our feet feels eggshell-thin.

But I have to use the internet: it’s where my stuff goes. It’s where all of you are. Here is where art and artists and art-likers live.

The things I love live here, in precarity, as the saw blades and lava traps of our digital dungeon grow every day more numerous.

Anyway, what I’m saying is that the web sucks now, but as long as we’re here — and we will be here — I want to try loving it again anyway. I want to untangle myself from all this disappointment and expectation and try simply “vibing” again. I wanna use cohost more: I’ll even crosspost stuff to Tumblr like I keep saying I should. I’m making a cool thing and I should show it off! I should relearn how to draw a little doodle and post it without feeling like it’s a suboptimal use of my time or whatever!! I want to believe in what joy may find us, though our world be a dumpster.

[bubblegump-1-nk]

Lost in Translation

pairing: Fem!Reader x Theodore Nott

summary: In which you and Theo are best friends, and secretly in love. But when Theo accidentally overhears a conversation between you and Enzo, he realizes you might not feel the same way…

Note: Ok y’all I’m sorry I PROMISE this will be my last Theo fic in a little while, I’m really going to try to write for other characters (and dw I won’t cheat and write for Lorenzo’s other characters ;)). On that note, I am going on many trips this summer and don’t know how much I’ll be able to write so I just want to get this story out before I leave for my trip tomorrow. Update: I didn’t finish in time and I’m currently halfway across the world writing this, having been awake for 23 hours straight, so if it stops making sense towards the end, pls forgive me 🙏🏼

~~~

It was a particularly warm day in March, so you and your friends decided to carry out your free period by the Black Lake. The sound of the waves lightly crashing onto the shore and the light breeze dancing through the trees was enough to make you want to fall asleep on the plush grass beneath you, but Pansy’s voice brought you out of your dreamy state.

“Y/n?” She spoke again, when her voice didn’t get your attention the first time.

“Mhm.” You muttered from where you were laying in the grass, a smile small placed on your face as the sun hit your skin so nicely.

“Dreaming of Theo?” Hermione inquired, causing Daphne to giggle due to your friendship with Theo being a little too “friendly”.

You shot up and glared at the girls. “How many times do I have to tell you, we are only best friends.”

This caused Daphne and Hermione to laugh even harder, and your cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“Ok, ok, whatever. Y/n, do you have the charms work?” Pansy asked, annoyed that her question had been ignored thrice.

“Yeah, I have it here.” You said, shaking your head to forget the altercation as you rummaged through your satchel.

“Speak of the devil.” Daphne said, causing you to look up.

Class must have gotten out already, hence why Theo, Enzo, and Mattheo were walking your way now.

You gave Pansy your homework and went back to resting on your makeshift grass bed.

“Forgot our invite?” Mattheo said, as the boys reached your group.

“You had class, idiot.” Pansy said, scribbling down your work.

“When has that ever stopped us.” Mattheo said, as he sat down and threw his tie off and gave Pansy a sassy look.

You felt your body being moved by strong hands you immediately recognized as Theo’s.

“Hey, you.” Theo said, as he looked down at you. He had moved you so your head now rested on his lap, a much more comfortable pillow.

“Hi Teddy.” You said, your eyes still closed.

“Theres other people here too, y/n”. Enzo joked, his mouth full with food.

“I know, I just don’t tend to say hi to people I don’t like.” You joked, making a face at Enzo.

He threw a piece of candy at you, but it was intercepted by Theo who put it in his mouth.

“What’s in the bag Mattheo.” Hermione asked, changing the conversation topic and drawing attention to Mattheo’s bag which was slowly and quietly jumping up and down.

“These idiots spilled some of our potion into my bag and it hasn’t stopped jumping since. You should have seen it before though, it’s calmed down a lot since then.”

Theo and Enzo began to laugh, and the rest of the group followed suit.

Theo’s hands were playing with your hair, like second-nature.

Enzo’s gaze burned down on the both of you, and you slowly made eye contact with him. You had drunkenly told Enzo about your feelings towards Theo after a party a couple weeks ago, when he brought you back to your room (a job that was usually taken by Theo).

—

“Careful, y/n, watch your step.” He had said, as he helped you back into your room from the Slytherin common room.

“Your the best Enzo, you’re really my best friend.” You had responded, turning to face him as you said it.

“Yeah you’re mine too y/n.” He said with a small chuckle. You two had known each other for ages, and your bond was like no other.

As he was helping you out of your clothes, you started to explain your feelings.

“Enzo, I can trust you right?” You asked, biting your lower lip.

He stopped momentarily, nervous. “Of course you can trust me, y/n.” He said, taken aback by your silly question.

“Ok, because what I’m about to tell you, you cannot tell anyone about. And I mean it. Not even your cat.” You said, turning to face him, your expression completely serious.

“O-ok, yeah. Of course.” He said, surprised by your quick change of tone.

“I mean seriously. If you told anyone it could ruin everything.”

Enzo gave you a skeptical look, what the fuck were you scared to say he thought to himself.

You took his silence as an invitation to speak again.

“I’m in love with Theo. And I mean really in love with Theo. I’ve thought about it for some time now and I just had to tell someone about it.” You rambled.

Enzo was silent for a moment, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Fucking finally you realize!”

—

“Mattheo, stop it! Do it yourself!” Daphne’s voice brought you and Enzo out of your shared daydream. Daphne snatched her potions essay out of Mattheo’s hands and slapped him with it, causing him to yelp out.

“Will you two stop it? Anyways, we better get going y/n.” Hermione said, collecting her stuff and getting up.

“Where to?” Theo asked.

“Harry and Ron are meeting us at Hagrid’s in a bit. We have to help him with some baby dragon he found.” You explained, getting up from Theo’s legs.

“Ok, see you at dinner then.” He said softly, helping you put your things away.

“See you.” You said to him, and then loudly to the rest of the group as you walked away with Hermione.

Theo stared at you as you walked away, his being consumed with you.

~~

Dinner was quick, and as you made your way out of the Great Hall, you detached yourself from Hermione, Harry, and Ron, to grab Enzo.

“Come with me.” You said, pulling him by his arm and giving him no time to ask questions.

You pulled him into your dorm room and closed the door.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m gonna stop being a pussy and confess! I’m tired of being hopelessly in love and I want to do something about it.” You explained.

“Fucking finally!” He said, repeating the words he had said that fateful night.

“And you’re going to help me practice.”

What..?” Enzo asked, a confused expression on his face.

“I need you to help me practice what I’m going to say. Please.” You said, throwing the last word in there to make it sound more like a question than a command.

“Ok yeah. Anything to finally get you two together.” Enzo asked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Ugh, I can’t do it! What if he doesn’t like me back, and then I ruin our friendship and I lose him completely. I’ll tear the group apart. I-I can’t do this.” You say, sinking down to the floor, your worries consuming you.

Enzo follows you down to the ground, and grabs one of your shoulders gently. His other hand lifting your chin to look him in the eyes.

“Y/n, I love you, but you’re being so fucking stupid right now. Of course he loves you, it’s so painstakingly obvious. I mean everyone knew before you two realized it. He practically crumbles at the sight of you talking to other boys. So please, just do this.” He explains, putting emphasis on the last sentence.

“You’re right. I- wait, he gets jealous when I talk to other guys?” You ask, diverging the conversation.

Laughter erupts out of Enzo, and it vibrates through out the entire room.

~~

Little did you know, Theo had had a similar conversation with Mattheo the night of that party a few weeks ago, which was the reason for his absence in taking you to your room

—

He was sitting on the astronomy tower, smoking a cigarette when Mattheo appeared.

“Party’s down there, mate.”

“I’m not interested.” Theo had said, watching as the smoke from his cigarette mixed from the smoke created by his voice in the cold air.

“Why’s that?” Mattheo asked, sitting down next to Theo and taking a cigarette from the open pack on the ground.

“I can’t stand it anymore. Seeing her with other boys.”

“Y/n?” Mattheo asked, in which Theo confirmed with a small nod.

“My chest physically hurts when I see her flirt with other people. I’m physically hurting knowing I can’t be with her. Knowing I can’t love her.” Theo explains, tears brimming in his usually stole cold eyes.

“Then tell her. I assure you she would much rather flirt with you than those tossers.”

—

So now, Theo was on his way to your dorm, excitement and fear teeming inside of him. He was repeating the speech he had prepared earlier with Mattheo over and over in his head, but he knew it was useless. He knew he would forget all of it the moment he looked into your angelic face.

He ran up the stairs to your dorm room, pushing people aside and muttering apologies as he did so.

He ran down the hallway, excited to get to your door. He finally reached the dark oak, but was surprised by the laughter he heard inside. That wasn’t your sweet laugh. It was loud and boisterous, a boys. Theo waited outside your door, listening in. Had he misread the signs?

“Enzo stop it. Stop laughing.” You said.

Enzo? Theo thought, confusion clouding his mind.

“Ok, ok, yep, sorry.” Enzo said, laughter still slipping out of his lips.

“I love you, ok?” You said, after slapping the side of his head.

“Finally you realize. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids!” Enzo responded, and Theo’s heart dropped. It dropped and dropped until he was sure it was laying on the floor somewhere. His throat closed up and mouth got all dry.

You were in love with Enzo? How could he have missed that? How could he possibly have missed that? Tears threatened to spill, and he was damned if he let anyone see him cry. He ran out of there as soon as he regained feeling in his legs.

Theo wanted to crawl into the Black Lake and drown. How could the girl he’s been in love with since he was a child love someone else? One of his best friends for that matter. Why was his life always so unfair?”

~~

“Ok, ok I’m ready.” You say, after having finished your little improv love confession with Enzo.

“Ok, so what are you waiting for?”

“Now? You want me to go now?” You ask, your eyebrows shooting up and eyes widening.

“Yes, now! Stop wasting time!”

“O-ok, ok, fine, I’m going now.” You say, reaching for the door. “Will you wait for me? In here, please.” You say, turning back to face him.

“Of course.” He said, a smile small on his lips as he crashes down onto your bed.

~~

You finally reached Theo’s dorm, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you knocked on the door.

It was strangely silent on the other side, until you heard footsteps reaching for the door.

You fought back the urge to walk away, your stomach was flipping and your palms were lightly sweating. Wtf am I doing? You thought.

“Yeah?”

You were taken aback by Mattheo’s presence, even more so by his face. He looked almost, unhappy to see you. Something you had never experienced.

“Is Theo here?” You asked, eyes trying to dart around Mattheo’s body to see inside the room.

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite understand, but it seemed angry.

“Nope. I’ll pass on a message if you want.” He said, uninterested.

“Er, no it’s alright, I’ll just come back later.” You explained.

“Or maybe not.” He said, closing the door in your face.

You stood there shocked, had he really just done that? What was going on? Where was Theo?

You concluded that he had probably been with a girl, thus his urgency and blocking you from seeing inside. Whenever girls got with the boys, they were typically jealous of your friendship with them (although you never understood because they were all practically your brothers), so perhaps he wanted you out before the girl got angry.

You left, walking back to your dorm. The confidence dissipating out of you, and you decided you would just do it tomorrow.

Unbeknownst to you, Theo was actually in the room, wallowing over his lost love.

~~

The next morning you slowly got out of bed, rolling around in your comfortable sheets as the sunlight seeped into your room. It was a slow Saturday and you had nothing planned other than a Ravenclaw party you were debating attending.

You slowly got yourself out of bed, reminding yourself of the large task at hand: tell your best friend your in love with him, no big deal. You got dressed and made your way down to breakfast, and you kept finding yourself wiping your sweaty palms against your shirt.

As you walked into the Great Hall and made your way over to the table, you noticed immediately that Theo was absent, and Mattheo as well. You quickly scanned the table to find Enzo and when you locked eyes, he gave you a sympathetic look followed with a shrug. You went over to your table and quickly ate breakfast.

The rest of the day was just as strange. You didn’t see Theo all day, which never ever happened. You two were practically attached at the hip. It was strange not having his presence around you, and you swear you were having withdrawal symptoms.

The strangest thing occurred towards the end of the day, when you were walking down the hallway and you saw Theo walking a ways away in your direction. But as soon as he saw he, and you swear he saw you, he turned sharply into the boys restroom, looking down.

~~

“Cmon y/n, please come!” Pansy said, trying to drag you out of your bed to go to a party with Daphne and her.

“I’m sorry, Pans, I’m just not feeling it.” You stated. You had been crying for a while, coming to the conclusion that not only does Theo not love you, he hates you.

“Ok, ok. But, if you change your mind, you know where we are.” She said, finally giving up and leaving your room.

~~

Enzo was leaning on the arm of a couch, drinking fire whiskey and laughing along to Draco and Blaise’s remarks.

The Ravenclaw common room had been expanded, yet it still felt stuffy with the huge amounts of people inside. Blue lights were dancing around the room and music was pumping loudly throughout.

Theo and Mattheo were sitting somewhere else, Theo stating he couldn’t stand even looking at Enzo or he would kill him. But eventually, he got enough drinks in his system, trying to numb the pain of his heartbreak, and got up to make his way to him.

“Wow, mate. Where you going?” Mattheo asked, grabbing Theo’s forearm.

“I’m not gonna lay a hand on him.” Theo said, glaring at Enzo and shaking his arm out of Mattheo’s grasp.

He took long strides over to Enzo, Draco, and Blaise, and his cup sloshed back and forth, liquid spilling over the sides.

“Hey mate.” Blaise said, him and Draco both unaware of any drama.

Theo nodded to him and Enzo shared a tight lipped smile, and looked down at his cup. The air was so tense it could’ve been cut in half with a pair of scissors.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Theo asked, after beats of silence and staring daggers at Enzo.

“Uh- I- my girlfriend?” Enzo asked, taken aback. The fear emanating from his voice at Theo’s violent look.

“Yeah, your girlfriend. Y’know, y/n.” He said, his voice laced with brutality.

“Y/n? What are you talking about?” Enzo asked, his brows knitted in confusion.

“I heard you talking to her. Saying how much you loved one another. Ringing any bells?”

“Wait, Theo, what the fuck are you talking about?” Enzo asked, Blaise and Draco listening in intently.

“Wow, you are a shit boyfriend. I fucking heard you saying how much you love each other when I was outside of her dorm. It was two fucking days ago and now you can’t even remember?” Theo said, his face fuming with anger.

“Holy shit, that’s why you started acting all weird? Mate, that’s not even close to what was going on.” Enzo explained, Blaise and Draco were watching like it was a reality tv show.

“Oh, so your love confessions were just pretend, or?” Theo said, talking to his best friend as if he was scum.

“Yes, you idiot! She was practicing what say to you!”

“What?!” Blaise said, covering his mouth when he realized it was out loud.

Theo blinked, looking around to all the boys. Mattheo had appeared when he heard the commotion getting rowdy.

“What..?” Theo asked, looking intently at Enzo.

“She’s in love with you! She asked me to practice what to say to because she was going to tell you. But then you got all weird and stopped talking to her. Now she’s sure you hate her and she’s been crying for hours.” Enzo explained.

Theo looked at him with blank eyes, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go!” Mattheo said, pushing Theo towards the door.

Blaise and Draco cheered, and Enzo sat back releasing a breath, thankful that he hadn’t just been beat to death by Theo.

~~

“Go away Pansy!” You said, after a knock was placed on your door.

You had been laying in bed practically all day and were wallowing over your lost love.

“It’s not Pansy.” Theo said shyly.

“Theo?”

“Can I please come in.”

“Uhm, yeah.” You said, quickly sitting up and trying to make yourself look more presentable.

The door opened slowly, and Theo walked in, his face was soft and kind.

“Can we talk. Please.” He begged.

“Yeah.” You said quietly, eyes searching his face for a clue of what was to happen.

“I’m so sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you were in love with Enzo and I- I just couldn’t handle seeing you.”

“What? Why would you think I’m in love with Enzo?”

“I came round to your dorm last night to talk to you, and I heard you and Enzo inside. You were talking about how much you loved each other. And I just, my heart broke. Because I’m in love with you y/n. I’ve loved you ever since I have known you and I couldn’t bear to be around you after hearing that you loved my best friend and that I would never have a chance to love you.” He ranted, tears coming to his eyes as he stood before you.

“Theo, I- I don’t love Enzo.” Was all you managed to get out, because your throat was closing in quickly now and tears were threatening to spill if you said anything else.

“I know that now.” Theo said, with a light laugh. “And I’m sorry if I’ve ruined everything between us but I want to make it up to you and if you still have any feelings for me at all, please, please tell me because I can’t go on pretending I wouldn’t burn the entire world for you if you asked any longer.”

You smiled, tears falling from your eyes.

“Of course I fucking love you! I’ve been in ruins thinking that you hate me, Teddy.”

He melted at the nickname and made his way over to you, sitting on your bed and wiping your tears from your cheeks. You both were smiling at each other, and after gathering yourselves for a minute, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You laughed at the silly question, because, of course you wanted to kiss him and answered by smashing your lips onto his.

~~

GOD SORRY THIS IS SO LONG and the ending is super rushed because I didn’t want to keep writing

[feyhunter78]

This new sweet, nerdy Miguel has me FERAL!!!!! HE'S SO CUTE I CAN'T —😩😩😩😩

I need some jealousy from him~ How do you imagine he acts when he feels jealous? He gets quiet and aloof, trying to avoid y/n so she don't notice? Or he gets angry and tries to mark territory? Hehe

AHH THANK YOUUUUU

I definitely want to write a full jealousy fic for him but I’ll give you a sprinkling of my thoughts while I plan for a full fic🫣

So, in the beginning before y’all get together he’s very quiet, really draws into himself, tries to act normal but is just a lot more reserved.

He’s afraid to voice how he feels because he doesn’t want to creep you out. (Gabriel got in his head. Bless his heart the poor boy is trying to help his brother, but he’s going about it the wrong way)

Very much a situation where he’s absent from class for a week or so because he gets sick and when he comes back he realizes another guy in class has been helping you with your notes.

You smile at the new guy, thank him in that sweet way you always thank Miguel and his stomach just churns and his chest starts aching. For a second he thinks he’s still sick, but when you smile at him and ask how he’s feeling the pain in his chest disappears.

He brushes it off, thanks you quietly for your concern, and throws himself into his work. For the first week you shrug it off thinking he’s still not feeling well, but after a while you end up confronting him which leads to:

“I just—I saw you and Brett, and, I’m glad you got help with your notes but you know you could’ve come to me.” He’s leaning against the wall, the wall you’ve trapped him against with your determined attitude and your inability to register when you’re invading his personal space.

“Miguel you were home, sick, and I didn’t want to bother you.” You remind him, your voice soft, tinged with concern.

He looks down at his feet, his shoulders hunched, his whole body curled in on itself. “You’re never a bother, not to me, so don’t—please don’t go looking somewhere else.”

But, when y’all get together???? Game changer. He’s still shy and he’s still the same Miguel you knew before but he’s more confident, he knows you won’t find it weird or creepy that he feels territorial over you. Now when a frat guy looks your way a bit too long in the courtyard he simply tilts your chin up with one finger and kisses you.

Of course his face is bright red after that and he buries it the crook of your neck, his big strong arms crushing you to his chest, and every time he does this you think it’s so cute.

If y’all are in private though, and say you have to go to a party or you’re going to be doing some joint event with a frat, he definitely likes sitting you in his lap and mouthing at your skin. Nothing too crazy on your neck, but he does leave a few large hickeys on your breasts, ones that sticks out from beneath the neckline of your shirt.

Just a bit of:

“Miguel! Come on, you know I didn’t bring any concealer.” You whine, your fingers tangled in his hair as his warm lips ghost over your skin, his tongue tracing the blossoming marks that trail down from your pulse point, dipping beneath the neckline of your shirt.

“I’m sorry mi dulce, I couldn’t help it, you look so pretty.” He says, as he dips his head biting down on the soft flesh of your breasts, his large hands holding them, pushing them up, his fang-like incisors scratching against your skin deliciously.

“I have to go, I’m going to be late for the mixer.” You try to tell him, your hands leaving his hair to lightly push at his chest.

One of his hands leaves your breasts, and spans your upper back keeping you pressed against him.

“Just one more? Please?” He asks, looking up at you with such adoration in his eyes you nearly grab your phone to text your sisters you’re not going to make it.

You sigh, but it’s halfhearted, playful, indulging. “One more.”

He smiles and captures your lips one more throughly distracting you as he lays you down on the couch under him.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 6

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Words Count: 2,143

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more

Even though you and Ransom have started talking again, you don’t fully trust him like before. He could have warned you about his family’s plans for you.

If he claims he can't escape from his parents' grasp, you find it hard to believe, knowing how Ransom will stop at nothing to get what he wants. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s bribed people.

This time, you will stay on guard. At least you’ve got the pen drive with you. It’s your insurance in case someone tries to frame you again.

After Ransom left your apartment, you continued packing up all your things. Being a minimalist, you don’t have a lot of stuff, which is helpful. You quickly gather your essential belongings, load them into your car, and leave the city to return to your hometown.

🏙️🏙️🏙️🏙️🏙️

In the small town, everyone drives the same type of SUV. So, when your red Lamborghini enters the town, it catches everyone's eye. People are amazed, but there’s also a hint of jealousy, especially from Natasha. She grits her teeth when she sees you flaunting your wealth.

Before heading back to your father’s house, you stop at the pawn shop where you sold your Rolex.

You walk into the store and see Mr. Rogers carefully examining a pearl necklace while Steve talks to another customer. You clear your throat to get their attention.

Mr. Rogers looks up and says, “Yes? Oh, Tom’s daughter. I heard you went back to the city.”

You bristle slightly, realizing every move you make is a topic in this town. “I decided to stay a while to take care of my father. I’m here to buy back the watch I sold previously.” You show him a stack of cash.

“I’m willing to pay more,” you add, placing the money on the counter with a firm expression.

Mr. Rogers nods, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the cash.

Mr. Rogers was impressed with you. “It’s alright. I won’t ask you for more. Wait a second, I’ll get your watch.” Then he called his son, “Steve, could you accompany Y/N?”

'No, don’t leave me,' you thought. There was an awkward moment, but Steve followed what his father said.

He nodded at you, and you did the same. While waiting, you took a good look at him. He looked different, taller, and had put on some muscle. But one thing that stayed the same was the pencil he always kept on his right ear. He’s an artist and always draws, which is why he keeps a pencil nearby.

“Are you still drawing?” you asked.

Steve never thought you would want to talk to him. “Sometimes.”

“You should tell the truth to your dad,” you said.

“The truth?” Steve looked puzzled.

“Your dream of becoming an artist,” you clarified.

Steve widened his eyes, surprised that you remembered.

“Speak up. That’s what I did after I left this town, and everything opened up for me,” you said, then continued, "Not that I care."

Before Steve could respond, his dad appeared with the watch. “Here’s your watch.”

The Rolex, the first luxurious item you ever bought with your own money, was back in your hand. It had been a gamble to sell it, but it was a promise to yourself that you would find a way to get it back.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely. Then you left the store without looking back.

After you left, Steve continued to stare at the door, even though your car was no longer in front of the store. Something you said had ignited a fire in him. He turned to his dad. “I want to say something.”

📄📄📄📄📄

You drove back home, the familiar sights and sounds of your small town easing some of the tension from your shoulders. Unexpectedly, Bucky's car was also there when you arrived.

Tom's face brightened when he heard the car, and he eagerly waited at the front door, greeting you warmly as you entered the house.

“Are you exhausted? Do you want something to eat?” Tom asked with concern, guiding you towards the dining table.

You glanced over and saw Bucky, but you chose to ignore him for the moment. On the table, there were scattered papers and a calculator, indicating some sort of ongoing work.

Tom let out a sigh, gesturing towards the mess, “Ah, it’s messy. I’m helping Bucky with the accounting, although I’m not very good at this.”

Then an idea seemed to strike him. Your father looked at you with hopeful anticipation, his hand reaching out to grasp yours, his gaze shifting to Bucky, “Maybe she could be a temporary auditor at your hotel.”

You and Bucky locked eyes, a mix of surprise and hesitation passing between you. What was this? You had just returned home, and now your dad was suggesting that you help the person who had once bullied you?

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[headkiss]

I feel like I’m in withdrawal from ur Hotch stories!! I would love some sort of blurb w protective Hotch and BAU reader if ur taking requests for him!! Any scenario I honestly don’t even care I just love hurt/comfort w my guy

babe!!! not withdrawal!!!! thank u so much for requesting <3 i hope u like it | 0.7k fluff, teeny mention of blood

Hotch tries to stay calm on the job. He has to, really, to be as successful as he is. It’s hard with the things he sees, the things he hears. Even harder when you’re about to go and do something dangerous when he’s not there to help.

You’re the only one at the scene right now, and even though he’s trying to convince you not to, you’re about to go inside and catch the guy.

“We aren’t far,” he tells you.

“I know,” there’s a shout in the background, and his heart sinks ‘cause he knows what that means. “I gotta go in.”

Hotch utters your last name, concern, something like desperation buried under his firm tone.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, and then you’re hanging up.

“Garcia,” Hotch knows she’s on the other line, and he knows she’ll find him a shortcut without instruction because she’s great at her job and even better at knowing what people need.

“I’m on it,” she tells him, and then she’s rattling off turns to make through alleys to get to you quicker.

The unknown is the worst part, Hotch thinks. If he was there, at least he could be sure that you’re alright. He doesn’t doubt your skills, not for a second, but when it comes to you, he doesn’t seem to think so rationally. All he feels is the pounding in his chest that won’t slow until he knows you’re okay.

By the time he makes it, there are cop cars outside, flashes of blue and red paint the dark street where everyone’s parked. His tires screech to a stop, and he leaves the car parked and running when he gets out. There’s a cop pushing the guy into the car, another nodding at Hotch as he walks by.

And finally, finally there’s you, sitting in the back of an ambulance with a bandage on your forehead.

He all but runs over, his hands finding your jaw to tilt your face up towards him in a way that certainly isn’t professional but he isn’t really worried about that right now. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t even need stitches,” you tell him.

“You’re bleeding.”

You sort of melt at his worry, at the almost unnoticeable shine in his eyes that you only see because you’re looking so closely. Hotch doesn’t have to say it with words, because it’s written all over him, the delicate hold he has on your jaw, the way his thumb draws a small pattern over your skin. Back and forth, back and forth. He cares about you.

“I’m fine, Hotch,” you say again, because he’s still looking at the bandage on your head with a furrow in his brows.

“You should have waited.” He doesn’t mean it, but he still says it. He knows this is the job, he knows it was the right call, but he should’ve been there.

“You would’ve done the same thing.”

“I know.”

His eyes still won’t meet yours, so you grab one of his wrists in your hand, squeezing it once, twice, three times.

“Aaron,” your voice saying his name is enough, Hotch’s eyes flick down and lock on yours, “I’m okay. No stitches, no concussion, just a little cut, alright?”

His fingers are still on your skin, calluses trailing down your neck until his hands are on your shoulders. There’s a trail of warmth that follows his touch, your eyes fluttering, your breath slowing.

He nods, “you’re okay.” It’s so quiet that he’s saying it to himself, even though you catch it. He repeats it, “you’re okay.”

Neither of you are thinking about the fact that you’re in public, that the team is probably watching you both and sharing looks with each other because they can see the feelings you and Hotch both have for each other clear as day. They are profilers, after all.

Hotch is only focused on you, and you’re focused on him and his hands and the sort of affection that’s rare from him, but speaks enough volumes to last a long, long time.

“I got the guy, didn’t I?” You say, trying to lighten the mood despite the circumstances.

“You did good,” he tells you, and the praise has something soaring in your chest.

You shrug, shoulders moving under his hands. “I learned from the best.”

And when you’re back on the plane, your head resting on Aaron’s shoulder where you’d fallen asleep, he doesn’t care one bit about the smirks he’s getting from the team.

He simply shakes his head at them, fighting a smile as he turns back to his paperwork.

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 200!!!

(huge thanks to this person for the art suggestion!! <3)

I genuinely can’t believe that I’ve made it to 200 days, it’s truly been wild how time flies by like that and the amount of doodles I’ve made during that time. Over 200 doodles (217 to be exact if we’re counting double pictures/extra doodles) have been made over the past 200 days. :0

And thank you all so much for the love and support! Not only have we reached 200 days but also 1400+ followers about a week ago! <3

But, having said that I’d like to make a few announcements—some good, some not so great—about a few things regarding the blog, myself, and other stuff.

Putting it all under the cut so the post isn’t long if you’d like to know more

______________________________

Announcements!

My pfp!

1.) I’ll be changing my pfp again!! I’ve officially decided that after every 100 days or so I’ll change up the pfp so it’s up to date with my doodle style (assuming it changed at all lol), but generally it’ll look relatively the same as the last!

Possibly more admins?

2.) As of right now I’m looking into the idea/possibility of having a second (maybe third?) person help me with daily doodles! As much as I’d like to keep doodling everyday there are some days that it can be tough or some situation might be happening. (i.e. recently got injured)

See, the problem is I don’t exactly have a proper way of trying this out??? My idea was to maybe do this through dms or more preferably Google Forms. I also don’t really know what form of communication afterward would be best either, suggestions to help me work this out would be great! (as you can tell I’m not very good at this stuff lol)

Commissions!

3.) After much consideration and a lot of thought, I’ve decided that in the near future, I’ll be opening commissions again for the first time in years. I don’t have everything set up quite yet, but expect more info in the near future!

About requests:

4.) You may have noticed recently that I haven’t been doing as many doodle requests recently. Sure, there’s usually quite a few in a row at once but you may have noticed I’ve also been doing “non-requested” doodles aka ones that I just do on my own.

Expect this to become a very normal thing going forward. I probably won’t be doing as many requests as before because frankly with the amount of requests I get daily when it’s open is a lot to handle sometimes. Does this mean requests will be stopped entirely? No, I’ll still do some occasionally, but not as much as I have in the past.

Also I’ll likely be doing strictly anonymous requests.

About Burnout:

5.) Alright let’s address the elephant in the room.

There have been quite a few instances where people have wondered if I would ever have burnout and have occasionally joked about “dying” from said burnout because “Silksong will never release, you’ll be doing this forever” etc etc.

In the past I’ve been fine, motivation has been great, but recently I’ve noticed it a little bit.

Unfortunately life has its own plans so it can be a little hard for me to make a doodle that day, expecially recently since I’ve been experiencing personal/medical issues. It’s part of the reason I’m hoping to get a second (maybe third) person to help me do daily doodles so I can take a little bit of the load off my shoulders.

So what does this mean for this blog?

Not much right now. But in the future, there may be some changes. My current plan is to keep going on daily doodles/posts for the length of a standard year, so roughly 365 days. After that, if things in personal life keep up the way they have, I may have to stop daily doodles and instead will post only if I have time. That likely means doodles every other day or every three days or something. At the very least I’ll still post a doodle once a week.

Not to worry though! I’ll still try my best even after I reach day 365 :)

I’ll discuss how things work a little more on my main @miizori later, but that’s as much as I can think to explain rn.

———————————————

Just a few more things I wanted to say!

This community has been so cool to interact with, so much tamer than some others I’ve been apart of in the past. I’m genuinely thankful for how much support and how nice everyone has been. I truly didn’t expect to get this far, I was fully expecting to have stopped like 10 doodles in lol. I especially love to see all your comments in the tags and people sharing their art. You’re all so cool :)))

I have a dtiys from back when I reached 300 followers that’s still available if you’re feeling up to it!

Also my main (again, @miizori) is where I make updates on doodle stuff, regular art stuff and so on if you’re interested at all in that lol

I think that’s all that I can remember wanting to say, so thanks!! I look forward to more doodles for you all :)

[luverine]

Caged Animal Part 2

Yandere (M) Hybrid x (F) Reader

0.8k words Part 1 Part 3

TW: cuts mentioned

It’s been a week of you being the main caretaker for Zaki and a week of you dealing with the old man. The constant dehumanizing remarks of the hybrid and jokes of you dying is getting on your nerves.

“Does he not know how to shut the fuck up.” you mutter to yourself walking out of the smokers office. “Ugg it stinks” You huff out.

…

You pick up the food tray for this afternoon’s meal and make your way to ward C room 316 where Zaki resides.

He still doesn’t talk much and growls when you get too close. Though he never hurt you, never touched you, or showed aggression.

“Zaki” you call out letting him know you’re entering.

He’s curled up in the corner still wrapped up in bloody bandages.

It’s been at least a week in the same bandages; you sigh knowing you're going to have to take them off and change them.

You place the food near him and stand at the other end of the room. You watch as he slowly unravels himself on the floor and makes his way to the small metal table where he scarfs the food down in the blink of an eye.

You flinch as he makes a deep growl as he finishes chewing.

“Uh It’s wash time we need to get those bandages off or your gonna get sick” you say awkwardly.

Zaki makes another deep growl with a scowl ingrained on his face.

“I know it’s not ideal but honestly it's starting to smell in here and you're all crusty…”

He gives you a deadpan look. You laugh nervously and unlock the bathroom connected to his room.

You stand next to the door and wait for him to go inside.

He sets himself on the toilet and waits for you. In the corner of the bathroom there is a small white shelf with a kit of bandages, ointments, and pain killers.

You grab a washcloth and put it under the running water in the sink. You ring it out and bring it to his bandaged arm.

You gently press onto the bandages with the cloth. The bandage slowly but surely unravels from his arm. A gross sight lays underneath long thick cuts on his forearm.

“Oh man- Did you do this?” You meekly ask.

All you get in response is a quiet growl, a sign to shut up.

You huff out some anxiety and finish up cleaning his wounded leg and arms.

You run the bath drawing warm water and adding soap.

Standing up, you ring out the cloth and skittishly hand it to him.

“I know it’s not awesome but you reek and need to keep your wounds clean.” You say “I’ll stand in the corner with my eyes closed but I have to be in here” you promise the hybrid.

He gives a small grunt and peels off his gown and undergarment.

You look away awkwardly to the ceiling a small blush dusting your face, and he stares right at you.

Pointing to the bath you tell him it’s all good to go, not moving your eyes from the ceiling you put yourself in the corner.

You hear him moving into the water and the splashing of him washing himself. The smell of soap envelops the air no longer smelling irony blood and a week old unwashed body.

Signing in relief that he won’t fight you on this. It’s always a hassle to do anything involving him besides eating.

…

It’s been a few hours since the washing of the wolf. “Ow” you mutter. He scratched you when you handed him a towel. It was obvious he didn’t mean it when you yelped. He wouldn’t stop whining and clawing at the door until you came back.

It’s dinner time and you do the usual sit the tray on the small metal table and wait in the corner opposite to the table.

He makes gross noises when eating. It's like a squelchy sound.

You shiver thinking about it. Looking up you see Zaki staring at you still at the table next to the empty tray.

“Wassup Zaki?” You ask.

All he does is grunt and huff. Moving to his blanket on the floor. He lays down and just looks at you.

“Okay” you way awkwardly.

Picking up the tray you set it on the small cart you bring everywhere.

Turning to him you look over his body and ask.“Are you in pain? I can give you something for that.”

He makes an almost inaudible whine. You nod and dig in your cart for the pain medicine the old man told you to get.

“Bingo!” You open the bottle and pull out three pills. “Here yah go buddy” slowly reaching your hand out towards him hoping to not receive another scratch. You smile gently about how thoughtful he is around you.

He moves his face closer and closer to your hand, your sweating bullets. He opens his mouth full of sharp edged teeth and eats them out of your hand.

The crunching of the pills made this even more awkward. You haven’t moved looking at him in pure shock. Eyes slightly twitching.

He gives you a small smirk.

You deadpan. “That was weird Zaki…” You let out an odd sound of a cut off giggle trying to stop the awkwardness from killing you

A/N: Sorry it took almost a month I’ll be posting more regularly I promise loves <3 cya

[novlr]

How to write a harmonious and mentally healthy relationship between a couple in love who is in a long relationship?

This is a great question. Existing relationships have their own patterns and rhythms and are quite different from the flush of a new relationship. I’ll answer this within the context of a romantic partnership (or polyamorous relationship) though most of this will apply to platonic relationships such as close friends and family too. 

These guidelines can also be used to write less harmonious relationships by knowing how to best break them. I taught the Psychology of Human Development for many years as a lecturer, so I’ll be drawing my response from research on human development across the lifespan. 

What is a healthy relationship?

Let’s start with some definitions. The question is specifically asking about harmonious and mentally healthy relationships. Harmony is a state that people fall in and out of. It’s not something achieved and forever maintained. 

People will have disagreements and conflicts even when they are in love. Possibly because they are in love and value that relationship. What happens when couples (or polyamorous relationships) are pulled in different directions by careers, moral-value systems, or differences in problem-solving approaches? 

This is where having a healthy relationship comes in. Healthy relationships are sustainable and a foundation for everything else. Some hallmarks of healthy relationships include good communication, trust, and respect. 

Good communication includes active listening, empathy, and clearly stating needs, wants, and desires. There is a willingness to compromise and to recognize when that isn’t possible. If one partner can’t compromise, can the other work with that out of a place of respect? Is there some way to reshape the situation so that both parties can feel comfortable with the solution? These conversations may be heated at times. The important thing is that people return to the touchstones of respect and trust, and then move forward to a resolution of the conflict that all parties involved can accept. It’s hard work, and it means no one always gets everything they want. It also means doing relationship repair by acknowledging the sacrifices being made and finding ways to compensate for that. 

Relationship as a character

Think of the relationship as a character in the story in addition to each of the characters in that relationship. Develop the backstory and character arc for the relationship. How do the characteristics of the relationship and the story arc for it impact the characters in the relationship and the other characters in the story? Is it a minor background character, or is it the main character of the story? 

Give it the same degree of development you would for any other character in that position. How does the relationship impact all the other characters, and how is it impacted by the events of your story? How does it influence the direction of your story? 

Backstory

You still need to think about how the characters first met and the arc of their relationship up to the point they appear in your story. You won’t necessarily use most of this in your work, though it will give you a foundation from which to draw references and determine how they react to one another. Here are some excellent seeds for building their backstory: 

How did they meet? Was it love at first sight, an enemies-to-lovers story, or something in between? 

How long were they together before deciding to commit to a long-term relationship? Was it ever formalized or are they still together because it’s easier than breaking up? 

Are there children involved, either with each other or from previous relationships? If yes, how old? 

How often have they moved household? How do they decide when to move? Does one partner’s job take precedence over the others when it comes to deciding who stays home if there’s a sick child/pet/family member or if they need to relocate? 

How do they split the day-to-day chores of living – shopping, cooking, cleaning, paying bills? People in healthy relationships will balance workloads and decision-making with respect for one another’s contributions. They will play to one another’s strengths and step in to help when a partner can’t pull their usual load.

What are other major life events they have been through together? Which of these brought them closer together, and which pulled them apart? Healthy relationships will weather these events even if initially pulled apart. Conflict is a part of life. Conflict resolution and relationship repair are learned skills. How do your characters navigate these?  

Social Context

Relationships don’t exist in a vacuum. How does the world around them view their relationship? Do they have the support of family and friends? What are the societal rules about the type of relationship they have – is it the sort most people have, or are there any taboos being broken by them? 

Some examples to consider would be same-sex relationships, marrying outside the culture, sharing a household without being married, or deciding to remain childless. All of this will inform how your characters behave around others. 

Ebb and flow

One of the films I loved to show my classes was a documentary about couples who had been together for fifty years or more. I’ve put links to similar projects in the resources section. Here are some of the highlights: 

Being together for many years means you won’t always be happy. Working through those times is hard, but worth it. Are your characters happy with their relationship at the moment of the story? If not, are they working through that?

People change over time. One man said he felt like he’d been married to five different women over the years as his wife changed and grew as a person. How have your characters changed over time? How do they remember each other in the past? 

Most reported that their partner was their best friend. Do your characters feel that way about one another? 

The couples often helped each other remember things with prompts, corrections, and clarifications. What are some ways your characters aid each other’s memories or rely on one another to keep track of various sorts of information? 

Most couples had phrases or words or body language that they shared and could use to communicate in an abbreviated way that outsiders might not understand. What are some ways your characters do this? 

Companionate vs romantic love

Romantic love is most often written about in first-meets and blooming relationship stories. It is a fire that burns hot and bright in the initial stages. Over time, the fire settles into a more sustainable bed of coals. This is companionate love. 

Romantic love will flare up again intermittently and can be stoked with romantic dates. Companionate love is what allows people to get on with life and support one another over the long term. It is the process of becoming life companions. 

How do your characters express companionate love? Is it making a cup of coffee, helping with a project? Listening while the other brainstorms or rants? How do they express their deep and abiding affection? How do they stoke the flames of romantic love as a way of deepening their bonds? 

Fidelity

How do your characters feel about monogamy? Have either of them had an affair? If they are polyamorous, what are the rules for seeing others outside the primary relationship? Or is this relationship a secondary one for each of them? If it is an illicit affair, then does the primary partner(s) know about it? 

I know all (most) of your secrets

People in long-term relationships know a lot about each other. What secrets are they keeping for one another? Are there secrets they haven’t shared? 

People don’t always share everything, even in healthy relationships. The difference is in how they share when something is revealed and how they react to such revelations. 

The importance of people watching

Watch how couples interact in the real world, look for documentaries such as the ones linked below, and even draw on well done movies and books for inspiration. 

What moments of harmony have you observed? What telegraphed that to you? If you witness disharmony, how is it resolved? When you see a less functional relationship, what could have made it work better? Keep notes about your thoughts and observations so you can incorporate them into your writing and character development.

Summary

Long-term relationships can be a lot of fun to write. It provides a basis for supporting a character through difficult points in the plot and a touchstone when someone is uncertain of how to proceed. Don’t shy away from conflict between characters in a healthy relationship. The way they experience and resolve that conflict can move the story forward.

Resources

We spoke to couples who have been together more than 50 years — Los Angeles Times 

Couples Together 30+ years give us love advice — Great Big Story

Answered by Kimberley Long-Ewing.