#But I realise again why I felt like I shouldn't go man

[gayspock]

what if I wss emo instead 🤔

[parfaitblogs]

waiting room ❀ s. reid x reader

in which he breaks up with you, and your life slowly falls apart. so obviously you should see him?

pairing: ex!spencer reid x reader genre: angst tags: implied alcohol reliance? lots of nothing happening not even a gun to my head could get me to write action... do not read if emotionally stable because i sure wasn't when i wrote this. word count: 1.9k a/n: i never write in second person so if there's a cheeky she her they them somewhere in this ignore it!!! i do not know what i am doing!!! probably not proofread enough. also no happy ending i hate those let the people cry i say! i haven't posted my writing in like three years be nice...

also posted here on my ao3 !

"Hey."

"Hi."

Awkward silence. Horribly awkward silence.

Your eyes darting around a bar that you found all too familiar, with decor that you could paint on a canvas with your eyes closed, and such a distinct smell that you could imagine it from miles away. You didn't think you'd ever forget the way the air moved in this bar, or the sound of the same three bands singing every Friday night on repeat. You knew all the words to their songs by now. And the bartender knew your name, embarrassingly so. 

And even over the sound of patrons talking, and the clinking of glasses and every other overwhelming sound that drove you crazy, you felt like you could hear your heartbeat slamming against your chest. Your lips chapped, never wetting no matter how many times you produced the saliva in your otherwise dry mouth to lick them. Hands wrapped around an ice cold glass that did nothing but numb some part of your body, to accompany the numb feeling in your chest. 

You looked better than you felt, but he was knocking both parts of you out of the park. Maybe that's why your mouth was so dry. You'd tell yourself that it is, at least. He's too attractive to talk to. But you could talk to him. You did talk to him. All the time. About everything, and nothing. Because that's what you two did. 

And yet; the awkward silence. 

He cleared his throat, and it prompted you to take a sip of your drink, mixed alcohol falling down your throat and leaving a burn that shouldn't comfort you, but did. You didn't pull a face at the taste of it the way you used to, and you found yourself wishing that part of you that you despised was back. 

Maybe he would tease you for it again.

"How's work?"

The words felt foreign on your lips. It wasn't really what you wanted to ask him, but every inquiry you had died on your tongue before you could ask them, nothing feeling good enough. 

"It's good," he answered, eyes studying you in a way that made you want to shrink into nothingness. 

"That's good," you said, and you saw the small twitch of his lips — brief, before they fell back into their natural downturned shape. 

It was almost comical how much silence sat between you two. Two people who would talk until people around them were groaning and regretting asking them a question, falling silent in the presence of one another. 

He cleared his throat again. Maybe you should offer him some water, but then you realised this wasn't your house and he was fully capable of getting his own water. And everything else in the world.

"How's work for you?"

"It's good," you answered, half-heartedly, because you really didn't know. You hadn't been in months. 

You didn't really realise a breakup would affect you this much. You had always been good. Good at putting emotional turmoil on pause for your busy life. You never considered the possibility of putting your busy life on pause for emotional turmoil. 

But then Spencer Reid left you. You never considered the possibility of that happening either, until it did. 

"Is it?" he asked, and you watched his body shift slightly in his seat, almost leaning closer to you. 

And unfortunately, you can only pretend in front of the man across from you for so long. "No," you said.

"Why not?" 

"I'm not going." Your voice was embarrassingly quiet, but you knew he heard you, because his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, and his lips parted for a second. It made you want to take the words back; to lie again. "I got laid off a week ago."

He slowly nodded his head in recognition — that would explain your sudden request to meet. "I'm sorry."

You could imagine a million things you knew he'd be saying the words for, but not one part of you really believed it for any of them. So you only nodded your head, gaze dropping from him to the glass in front of you, the paper straw disintegrating in the liquid — something you weren't used to; you would finish drinks too quickly for that to happen. 

You didn't come here to mope. You do that every other Friday night. You didn't need to do that tonight, when the man you were spending your nights sobbing and your mornings numb over was right there with you.

"How's your mom?" you ask instead, lifting your head back up, and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. 

"She's okay. Same as usual," he said, and you nodded your head. Short answers seemed to be the only thing you guys knew how to do. "How's yours?"

"Good," you answer, because the question doesn't really have the same weight as it did when you asked him; he only did it to be courteous. "She misses having you over."

That brought a small smile to his face. "I miss being over."

You can come back, you want to say, but you know that isn't true. 

You don't know how much longer you two sit in silence before he breaks it with a sigh that, if you didn't know better, you'd think was irritated. But it wasn't; simply exhausted. 

"Why did you want to meet me?" he finally asked, and your lips parted, before shutting again, because you're not too sure the answer is something you're allowed to say aloud. 

You say it anyway.

"I missed you."

You watched his facial features soften, his shoulders relaxing slightly, and that only seemed to bring more nervous energy to you. 

"You shouldn't," he said, and if your heart had anything left for him, it probably would have cracked again. 

You knew that you shouldn't. You had told yourself to get over it a thousand times before. Your go-to mantra was grow up. But you couldn't. Your brain wouldn't let it go and your eyes could just never stay dry for long enough to think it's finally over. It was almost pathetic. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding your head, slowly, and you were pretty sure tears were welling in your eyes, which felt even more pathetic in front of him. 

"I'm sorry."

This time it was you to apologise, and you knew he didn't believe your apology either. Not when you didn't even know what you were apologising for. Missing him, meeting him here, ever even dating him in the first place.

"It's okay," he said, instead, and you watched him exhale shakily, his lips rubbing against each other — usually a telltale sign he didn't want to be wherever he was any longer. That broke your heart too. 

Words died in your throat as you abruptly stood up, the stool you were perched atop wobbling slightly with your sudden movements. 

You stared at him for another moment, committing his face to memory, before you nodded your head to him in acknowledgement, pocketing your phone. You forced a smile, and left. 

Maybe not the best move you've ever done in your life. Not the move you wanted to do. But certainly the smartest. 

Because the second the cool, early fall air hit your skin, so did your tears, and you found that even ordering an Uber was difficult through blurry vision. So you decided to walk. Walk where, you didn't know. Away from the bar. Through the people-filled square; people as drunk as you wished to be, people out with friends and partner's, to have fun. People having a much better night than you, clearly. 

You heard your name. And something in you screamed to not turn around, to not give in to the caller. Probably the logical part of your brain. But your heart ignored it, and you halted in your tracks, turning to see him walking towards you, eyebrows furrowed in so much concern you think you'd crack further than you already have. Maybe if you split yourself down the middle it would finally stop hurting. 

"I miss you too."

Four simple words that could be heard even over the mixed songs playing from the clubs around you, even over the beeping cars and the chattering people. 

"Please don't lie to make me feel better," you croak, and you're acutely aware of the tears on your cheeks. 

"I'm not lying," he breathed out, and you were far enough away from his body to see his hand twitch. For whatever reason you didn't know. "Sweetheart, you're breaking my heart, here."

Oh.

You swallowed down a sob, swiping another set of falling tears before they could get too far down your cheeks.

"Spencer, please," you said, so desperately that you wanted to shoot yourself. "I shouldn't have asked you to meet."

"No, you shouldn't have," he agreed, and your heart stuttered in your chest, because he was telling you things you shouldn't do. Again. "Not that I—" he cut himself off with a sigh; frustrated, this time. "Not that I didn't want to see you, because I did. You're the only person I want to see recently. But I was getting better, and I know I've ruined all that by being here with you tonight."

I was getting better. The words echoed over and over in your brain. If he was just as bad as you were, maybe it would make this easier. Maybe you aren't as pathetic. 

"I hate this," you settled on, fidgeting awkwardly with your fingers. 

He didn't respond for a few too many moments, and it had you wanting to take back your words. He rubbed his eyes with another sigh. 

"I'm not going back on my decision," he said, and you didn't need to ask what decision; you had an idea, and your stomach twisted uncomfortably. 

But you did anyways. "Which decision?"

"Breaking up with you."

You were silent for a few moments too. "I'm not asking you to—"

"—No, but you want me to," he cuts you off. "And I'm telling you I won't. You know why I did it. That trumps whatever feelings I have for you."

Have.

"I don't know why," you said, shakily. You did. He gave you a reason, and if you had to explain the breakup to someone, you could tell them why. But the ongoing conflict in your brain confused you anyways. 

"Yes you do," he answered, his jaw tensing. When you shook your head, and went to respond, he cut you off, stepping closer. "I can afford to lose you. I can't afford for the world to."

He had said something similar the day he left. Something about a fear of you dying. Something you had tried to reassure him of, failing to do so clearly. 

"What about me?" your voice cracked and you cursed it.

"It will get better."

You could've cried all over again, in the middle of the square. Everything always for the better. Never for the right now, for the things you both wanted. But for the everlasting fear Spencer had in his brain, that you didn't know how to help. 

"Apparently," you replied, sniffling as you took a step away from him. "I think I should go."

If he wanted to protest, he didn't show it. He simply nodded his head, lips parting in a silent exhale. 

And so you did, with wet cheeks, and a quiet, "Goodbye, Spencer."

loml (part 2) ♡

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[demonpiratehuntress]

hard

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

Summary - You get jealous when you see a woman chatting him up at the bar, but don't do anything about it cause you two are "casual". It's when he punches the guy trying to chat you up that everything changes.

Warnings - mild swearing, mild violence, angst to comfort

You shouldn't be bothered by it. It's not like he considered what you had serious. He didn't want anything more, or at least that's what he'd told you. So you couldn't tell him you wanted to be official, all you could do was sit and simmer in silence as the woman batted her eyelashes at him and flirtatiously touched his bicep. He wasn't trying to stop her, which only worsened your already sour mood.

"(Name), can I just-" Sanji tried to gingerly remove the glass from your hand, in fear of you gripping it so tight it broke and cut you.

"It's fine, I was just going to get another one," you mumbled, getting up and making your way to the bar. An unwelcome and unpleasant feeling was settling over you, one that was both embarrassing and irritating.

That feeling increased tenfold when you noticed the woman move closer to the unfazed swordsman, who was listening but otherwise just drinking his alcohol. You looked away, swallowing thickly and trying to push down the nauseated feeling that was rising to the base of your throat. You were hurt. You wanted to cry. It was so hard to see what was happening, but you just had to. You took your refill and went back to your seat, unaware of the concerned look Zoro was giving you as you sat down.

He wasn't a complete idiot. He had noticed something was wrong, but with this woman constantly talking to him he didn't have the opportunity to pull away and confront you. He'd have to ask later.

The rest of the crew had vanished, but you assumed that they were chasing Luffy around the small town again in order to stop him from doing something stupid. Sighing, you sat back in your seat and crossed your one leg over the other, eyeing a sudden new arrival at your table. A young man, about your age, with a hopeful gleam in his eyes that you recognised all too well.

"May I ask why such a beautiful lady like yourself is sitting here all alone?"

You glanced at him again, unimpressed, "Dunno where my friends went."

"Then let me keep you company until they return."

You hummed, not disagreeing like you usually would. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was your sadness, but you didn't feel like telling him off. Your gaze wandered to Zoro and the brunette at the bar, your heart sinking lower in your chest as the same sight from before greeted you. Nothing had changed, and it felt like nothing would. At this point, she would probably win him over. The thought had your chest physically aching.

You didn't realise your hand was shaking or that you were tearing up until you felt the guy take the glass from your hand and set it aside before brushing his thumb across your cheek tenderly - with an affection that you craved from Zoro - to swipe the falling teardrop away.

This action did not go unnoticed by the swordsman, and his jaw clenched. How dare that guy touch you like that, the way Zoro wanted to touch you? How dare that guy pretend to like you when all he wanted was to get in your pants? When Zoro was the one who liked you but was too afraid to say it?

"Thanks," you managed a shaky laugh, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

If Sanji were here, he'd probably have smacked this guy's hand away from you already - the thought cheered you up a bit, his antics always making you laugh even on your worst days. If only he could knock some of that romance and possessiveness into Zoro.

"There's nothing wrong with you, you're-"

You were about to cut him off, but someone had beaten you to it. The young man stopped talking, instead letting out a pained cry as he fell sideways, blood now dripping from his bottom lip. You looked up at his assailant, eyes going wide when you saw your green-haired crewmate standing over him, seething.

"We're leaving."

"What-"

You were cut off by Zoro grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the bar. You were halfway down the street when you pulled your hand away from him angrily and stormed off back to the ship, not saying a word to him. You didn't want to start a scene in the middle of the town, where all eyes would be on you. He sighed in frustration, but followed you quickly so he wouldn't get lost on his way.

When you were both back on the Going Merry, he stopped you from heading straight to your room, grabbing your wrist again. You sighed, but didn't turn to face him.

"What?"

"Why are you mad at me?" He sounded so confused - and he was cute when he was confused - that you almost caved. Almost.

"I wouldn't use 'mad' to describe what I'm feeling," you told him. "So can we just drop it? It's nothing."

"Well it's bothering you enough that you won't even look at me," he shot back, "So what is it? Did I do something?"

You laughed bitterly, finally turning around to face him, "You only made me fall completely and irrevocably in love with you!" He opened his mouth to say something, but you weren't done. "Yes, I know, you don't want a relationship! You've made that perfectly clear. But don't go and punch guys who are actually interested if you're going to happily let women flirt with you!" You were so angry, so upset, so hurt, that you hadn't realised you'd started crying halfway through your rant.

He stepped closer to try and wipe your tears away, but you shook your head and backed away from him, and his gaze hardened, "Do you really think that guy liked you? He just wanted to fuck you!" Just the words had his anger growing again. He wanted to go back and do more to that man, but he wanted to fix this first.

He was doing poorly.

"And how is that any different from you?!" You yelled, throwing your arms up in frustration. Your words took him by surprise, and his eyes widened in shock. "Just...forget it."

Before he could say anything else, before he could stop you, you jerked your hand away from him and retreated to your room, slamming your door shut. He followed silently, his own heart sinking when he stopped outside the door and heard your sobs. He felt even guiltier knowing he'd caused them, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. But you clearly didn't want to see him, and he couldn't blame you.

"Idiot," he mumbled to himself as he moved away, planning to ask Nami for help on how to fix this.

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

The next morning, you woke up feeling more exhausted than usual. You curled up in your bed, not wanting to go out and face him again. You wanted to avoid him, feeling too hurt to be around him at the moment. But the crew didn't deserve the same fate, so you sucked it up, swallowed your pride and eventually dragged yourself out of bed. Thankfully, while everyone else was in the kitchen, Zoro was not.

"What happened between you two?" Nami questioned as you took a seat next to her.

"Between me and who?" You feigned confusion, trying not to let it show how badly you wanted to cry again.

"You know who," she deadpanned. "He was in a panic last night, damn near assaulted me on my way onto the ship. I've never seen him so panicked."

You looked down at your food, "We argued. He doesn't feel the way I do."

"Been there," Usopp chimed in, earning a smack from Sanji.

"I'm pretty sure that's not the case," Nami told you.

"Give me a chance, (Name)," Sanji begged, "I won't treat you like this!"

"Shut up, cook," came an annoyed response from the door. "She's mine."

You immediately got up to leave, not wanting to say anything to him, not even wanting to look at him, but your path was blocked. Shoving him out the way wasn't an option, he was a brick wall in that regard. You were not prepared for what happened next.

He fell into your view because he got down on one knee, holding out a small box. Your eyes shot wide open, a gasp leaving yours and everyone else's lips. Only Nami seemed unfazed.

"What are you doing?" You asked shakily.

"What does it look like?" He deadpanned, but he sounded a bit nervous. Like he didn't really want to do it. "Proposing."

"And why are you proposing?" You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

"Because I'm sorry?"

"You're proposing because you're sorry?"

"You said you wanted more!"

You burst out laughing then, feeling all your anger fade away. He was truly the biggest idiot you've ever met, and you loved it regardless of how frustrating he could be sometimes. You got down on your knees in front of him, closing the ring box.

"I said I wanted a relationship," you couldn't contain the smile on your face, "Not that I wanted to get married. Not right now, anyway."

"Oh," he put the box away sheepishly. "That's a relief. I wasn't-"

"Ready?" You giggled, "I know. You were barely ready for a relationship."

"Okay, that was uncalled for."

He said it in his usual monotone drawl, but he was smiling. Relieved that you weren't mad at him anymore, and happy to see a smile instead of a frown on your face, he took both your hands in his and gently tugged to tell you to move closer. You obliged, feeling butterflies at the way he looked at you.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, and you felt something change. This kiss was different, it was more passionate and more loving than all of the other kisses you'd shared. This kiss expressed your love for him, and his love for you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"I was ready for a relationship with you a long time ago," he admitted when you pulled away, "Just thought you were fine with keeping it casual."

"I actually want to strangle you right now."

He laughed at that, then kissed you again. And again. And again. It became clear he was trying to show the others you were his now, and you wondered if Sanji had inspired this display of affection.

"I'm not very good at this, so just bear with me."

"I'm trying."

"I'm being serious!"

"Me too!"

He shook his head in dismay while you laughed happily, enjoying the fact that you could get on his nerves. He pulled you closer, tugging you against his body and forced your head into his chest to shut you up.

"Wait...Nami, did you help him plan this?"

[blingblong55]

Matilda- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Photo creds:@ave661^

Based on a request:

Ghost finding out his s/o has a bad family, who she doesn’t keep in contact with but talks shit about and is like. Pretty open about how fucking awful her past was? if it’s too much I get it but like- I used to love your angst posts :3 they were so yummy! --- F!Reader, 18+, angst, comfort, family issues/trauma, mentions of SA/rape, mentions of eating disorders, toxic!family, mentions of child abuse, so...trigger warning!! ---

A/N: this is me trauma dumping so I'm sorry if it isn't perfect

Simon knew, he knew well that you weren't so open to starting a family with him for reasons he knew best to respect. But, one day, without him even realising he asked the question, you sat down and told him the story your teary eyes held for so long. As he listened to you explain the stories, he noticed how he wasn't speaking to his wife but to the little girl, his wife once was. The one who was left in a cruel world to people who shouldn't have had kids. "So, they...abused you?" He carefully asked and when he noticed you pause, he knew the answer you didn't. "I...I don't think so," your soft words spoke. 

Nothing about the way you were treated seemed especially alarming 'til now

"What I know is that they were mean, evil to me. I was a kid...how was I to know right from wrong so easily?" You held his hand, support you failed to have as a child. Then, you told him the story of a young R/N. "I don't remember the exact age, but I could've been 5 through 8. I was there, he took me to his room, I thought we were going to play and he said we would so would I have known, you know?" Your innocent voice spoke the fear he held. "I don't remember much of that day but in glimpses, if I look too deep, I can see his hands between my thighs, and how he...well...you know," you couldn't explain, it was like a knot in your throat prevented to cause your heart more harm. "And you didn't tell your parents?" His voice is soft. You shake your head, "No, I...as a kid, they never believed what I said," you chuckle out of coping with it all.

"There was one time when my older sister tried to suffocate me, I didn't do anything to deserve it, all I did was watch cartoons and she annoyed me but I knew best and didn't feed into what she wanted from me." You pause and wipe some tears away. Your gaze never fell on his, afraid to break down too easily if you stared at the man who became home to you so long ago. He was that, he was comfort and home and you knew that if you stole one glance, you would be sobbing the stories. Your hand held his tighter, he knew well it was for comfort. "She pressed the pillow tight on my head, I was sick and my stupid lungs couldn't take the fact I had pneumonia, so of course killing me would be easier," you chuckle again. His gaze never left your delicate face and even he had to admit he cried as you told him these stories. 

After a long sigh and pause you continue, "I somehow pushed her off me and ran to my parent's room, knocked loud and when my dad opened the door I swore I finally felt safe until I didn't," You know he was ready to ask why but you just laid your head on his shoulder. Looking off into the distance you continued, "My sister told them I pushed her, told her that I hated her, which is not true because hate is strong and she is my sister," you shake your head. "I cried when they didn't believe me, and had a panic attack in their room. and when I backed into a corner as my mother and father yelled at me...that's when they took my sister to the hallway and my mother stayed with me, she tried to hug me but I didn't need none of that...not from her." His hand rubbed your arm, knowing what you needed from him. You wipe some tears away, your breathing hitches and he wraps both arms around you. "I didn't hurt her Simon, I swear I didn't but no one believes me, no one," you whisper the last part. "I know you didn't, my love," he kisses your head and continues to rub your arm. 

"I believe you, I'll always believe you before anyone else," he reminds you. "I...my mother gave me water and sent me to my room, told me to just sleep it off," you stop and cry. "Oh my love," he whispers and carries you onto his lap. The pouty frown broke his heart more and more. The cosy home he and you made for the years of your life, warming up his belief that slowly, he will replace all those bad years. The fireplace radiates heat on the snowy winter day. "In this world, I'll always believe you, no matter what, okay, my love?" He looks down and you nod. "That's my girl," he says and places a blanket over you both. "Do you want to continue, my love?" He asks, rubbing your back with his warm touch. 

"I do," your voice is small. It was best to open about this and then burn it and let the ashes fly away than to keep it locked in for eyes to see. "I...as I grew up, I knew I had no place in that house. My mother shamed me for my body, and so did everyone in my family." Your head nuzzling onto his chest like a cat finding comfort. "So, I starved myself to be the perfect daughter. I did try to be perfect, I tried to get an I love you, a simple smile or hug." He nods, understanding where you came from. "One time, my mother grabbed my stomach, she told me I was fat and looking back at how I was at that age, I...I was healthy, nothing was ever wrong with me, nothing," you repeat in a whisper. 

After a long time of comfortable silence, you speak again. "As I grew older, they made me feel terrible about all of me, how I dressed, if I did my makeup, my hair, my body, the stretch marks that decorated my body, all of it and even I wasn't allowed to have one bad day, not one." He shook his head and in that instant, he understood why all those years of loving you, you always avoided starting a family conversation. You were afraid to be like them, to persist in a cycle of never-ending trauma. He knew you loved him, he knew how much you yearned to be a mum, to watch him and you become parents and do foolish things for and with your child. 

"I never understood why I was so insecure over my thighs or why I hated when people touched them, but as I grew older and noticed that I was...you know... I..um.." You could never be admitted, never say you were raped as a child, not when you were scared to acknowledge it again. "I know love," he responds so you don't torture your heart anymore. "But...when I realised what happened to me, that's when it all hit me and there was a time in my young life that I knew I would never forget," you kept holding onto his torso. "It hadn't been long after what that...person...did to me when my mum and sisters pinned me to the ground, they knew then that I disliked people touching my thighs so they pinned me to the ground and touched them," you shake your head, trying to forget the moment. "They...th-they touched my body as I cried and begged for them to stop and not once did anyone stop or help me. My father walked by and he...he just laughed and kept walking...how...how can you do that?" You cried. "How can a parent do that? I was a kid, Simon...a child," you broke down. 

"And don't get me started on why I felt like Christmas was just not a happy holiday anymore." Your mind went to a past Christmas, your family yelling, your father accused of his cheating, never denying, just lying and yelling at your mother. You hid in a closet, grabbed headphones and played music loudly. Hours passed and your mother saw fear within her eyes as she cried to you, why can he love me? she asked as she cried, you played strong. Your father drove away, leaving his family scared and cornered in a bathroom, crying as they listened to stories. 

"My dad used to hit me, well, my entire family really," you confessed. His eyes widened, he knew they were bad, but not this bad. "My dad had a belt he used to hit me with, my mother and sisters used to watch. One time, they added more fuel to the fire as they told him more lies to get me into more trouble, part of me thinks they loved to watch me cry and get hit." You so innocently say, "When I was a kid and even as I grew older, my mum and dad would hit me and tell me they did it because they loved me." He shook his head, "Never...never in your life do you dare think that way. If I even dare to lift my hand at you, you leave me, my love. Because no matter how much you or I love the other, abuse doesn't equal love," he cups your face. You nod. 

You learned one thing from Simon as he listened, that he was calm after the bad storm. He had his troubles, yes, but never would he be like them. He and you healed the other after all those years of a bad life you lived. You and him, sunshine to the other even in the darkest of the night. He has become light and a new beginning. Family. And as you admire the soul who can tell which smiles you are faking, you know that the little girl in you is finally safe. She has packed her dolls and sweater, moved to the countryside, grew up and fell in love with a man. A man who is home, a man who became the grown-up little R/N runs to when scared. For he is home, he is light and he is love. He is your man, your safe place and the one you find comfort in. 

I don't believe that time will change your mind In other words I know they won't hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go

"No more," he told you, you looked up at him in confusion. "No more?" you asked and he shook his head. "From this day on, you are not their blood, you are a Riley, you are R/N Riley and never will you be associated with them." He cupped your face. His tone was stern as he tried to make you listen to him. "They are not family, my love. They are strangers you lived with. And me...I am your family, we don't need another shit Christmas, we can...hm...we can have dinner here, or maybe get takeout and watch your favourite movies all day and night. Hey, who knows, maybe that Santa Clause man will come in the night as we sleep and hopefully you've been nice my love because I want him to bring you some good gifts," he chuckles as he cups your delicate face. You laugh a little, "Hey, look who's back, that cute laugh of yours my love," he kisses your lips and pulls you to him, closer than you already were. 

You can start a family who will always show you love You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own

In this lifetime, you will learn many things and you will meet many people. Most of which will come and go. Those who stay, you may ask? Well, they become a family, maybe not a biological one but it's not blood that relates two strangers. It's memories, it's understanding, growing, living and loving. Family is him, family is the old lady or that professor you bonded with. Family is people who make you feel safe and at home. For if you are lucky, in this life you will find your Simon Riley. The person who wraps you in a warm blanket and loves you a little more when you hate the reflection in the mirror. And if you get even luckier, you will find that not only will it be Simon Riley who heals your old wounds and covers them in kisses and caresses. You will find yourself, maybe in ten years, getting covered in glitter, mud, and stickers and having the walls of your home drawn on by Simon's child. The love child that was created on a warm Christmas morning. The same one that wakes you up at six in the morning to go and see what the big red man brought them for Christmas. 

And if you are lucky enough, you will find peace. The same one you looked for since age 5, the same one you cried for throughout the years. Maybe it won't come this year, but if you are patient enough, you will find it and when you do, appreciate it because you cried for it many moons ago.

You don't have to be sorry, no

A/N: the tears I shed as I wrote this made a river. Anyway, thank you for letting me dump years of trauma with this one, love you all <3

Tags:

@ghostslillady @liyanahelena @sans-chara @siwwayouu @allaboutirem0 @just3rowsing @mothcelestial @blankk3

[dragon-kazansky]

Heart of the Dreaming

Morpheus x Female Reader

Soulmate AU

You are the daughter of Rodrick Burgess. You find out about the "demon" in the basement and decide you want to see it. Things take an unexpected turn when your soulmate connection is made with the man you find down there. You are the one he has been waiting for, and you're being taken away from. Not for long. Dream will protect his soulmate.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Two - Take my hand

☆☆☆

It was starting to get light outside. Alex had left you locked in your room all night. You could hear voices outside your door, but you didn't care to even try and listen in.

Since your father died, Alex had become a stranger to you. He was nothing like the boy you once knew.

You're not sure exactly how much time had passed. You had resulted in laying on your bedroom floor listening to the mumbled voices and the footsteps, as well as thinking about the man in the basement.

The way he looked at you. It was like he knew you. The man from your dreams...

You hadn't fallen asleep at all, so you had no idea if you were still able to dream of him. You wanted to know why you were dreaming of him.

There was so much you didn't understand.

Eventually, the door to your room opened. You looked up with tired eyes to see Alex coming into the room. You summoned what energy you had to push yourself up into a sitting position.

Alex closed the door behind him and leant against it. He looked down at you with an expression you couldn't read. You could see his frown clearly, though.

"Come to scold me?" You ask quietly.

Alex doesn't say anything for a while. He just stares at you. He then lets out a huge sigh.

"You shouldn't have gone down there."

"Who is he?" You ask.

Alex stares at you.

"Who is he?" You ask again, demanding an answer.

"Some kind of Dream Lord."

"Dream Lord?" You look at him curiously. You can tell Alex doesn't want to answer. "Why is he trapped in out basement?"

"Because father failed to trap Death. They're siblings or something... Look, I don't know the details, but we can't let him out. He could hurt everyone."

"Hurt everyone? I assume he'll only hurt those who have kept him prisoner. He didn't look like he wanted to hurt me."

"He couldn't. There's a difference. He needs to stay down there." Alex speaks firmly.

"Who put you in charge?" You ask, glading at him.

Alex clenches his jaw and pushes off the door. He grabs the doorknob and looks at you again. "Do not ever go down there again."

He leaves you alone once more.

☆☆☆

Security in the house doubled. The basement was never unattended. Any time you moved around the house, you were constantly being watched. You were never able to get down into the basement again.

Something had changed in you.

Alex had gone mad with anger when he realised.

You had stopped aging.

While everyone else in the house grew older as the years began to pass, you didn't. By your 30th birthday, you had stopped ageing. Alex had gone down into the basement one night and demanded to know what the Dream Lord had done to you.

Morpheus never uttered a word to him.

That angered Alex even more.

"You will never get out of here."

Morpheus watched him go in silence. Angry didn't quite cover how he felt. He was already planning his revenge for being trapped so long, but if you've been hurt in process too, Dream had no intention of showing mercy.

☆☆☆

Too much time had passed, and you hadn't aged a day. Alex couldn't stand it. He was getting old. He now looked much older than you. It wasn't normal.

Alex had celebrated his 70th birthday party.

You had not been permitted to attend, not that you would have wanted to if you had. Alex had kept you locked in his room. Only he and Paul could enter your room.

He didn't want anyone to see you.

You weren't even allowed into the garden. The most fresh air you got was through your window, which only opened a little bit. Your life had been the worst it had ever been.

Still, every night, you dreamt of the Dream Lord. However, the dreams had changed slightly. It felt like he was looking right at you in them now. Like he could see you.

Many mornings, you have woken up, heart racing.

If he was a dream lord, then surely could sense your dreams. Him being trapped is what made dreaming so rare.

You look down at the scar on your wrist. It healed itself, but every so often, you could feel the burn. When it bothered you, you would cover it gently and press down on it. The burning would subside. You were certain it had something to do with him and that he could feel you through it... Or you could just be making things up to cope with the fact you were also a prisoner in this house now.

Alex stares at your door. Paul had been pushing him in his wheelchair toward the basement when he asked to stop a moment. Very few people knew of you and your "condition," as Alex called it.

He was going to go down into that basement one final time. He swore this would be the last time. He was going to attempt to bargain with the thing down there again.

Alex refused to acknowledge him as anything other than a thing. Not after everything that's happened in this house.

Rodrick, Ethel, you.

"Let's go." He says firmly. Paul pushes him the rest of the way to the basement. Alex had checked his pocket for the key to your room. It was there. Good.

You could hear them leave through your door. You wait until it goes quiet, and then you hear another set of footsteps. You smile. You knew Alex was going down to visit the man from your dreams again.

Alex underestimated you, or perhaps he was just neglectful in his old age. Despite being confined to your room, you could hear an awful lot. Be it from conversations taking place just beyond your door or words spoken in the garden within earshot of your open window.

He also underestimated some of his guards. How easy they were to bribe. As long as they got paid, they would do anything. The master key to the house was kept in the office. Alex never locked the office. His first mistake. His second was giving the guards access to the entire house. The third was thinking you were harmless in your room.

A trade. Money, which you still had access to, for the key to your room.

That exact key slid under your door, and you slide the money through. You hear the guard walk away, and you pick up the key.

You're careful as you unlock the door and poke your head out. Just because some of the staff can be bribed doesn't mean that some aren't loyal to Alex.

Some of them pitied the woman Alex kept locked away in her room.

Down in the basement, Alex stared at the strange man who had been down here since he was a boy. This was the last time he would come down here.

"I could have asked you for wealth or power, like my father did. But all I ever wanted was for my sister and I to be free of you."

Dream stated at him silently.

"Surely you want that too."

Dream remains silent. All he can think about is what he would do if he could get out. How can he get to you? You deserve better than this family.

"Alex, darling, please." Paul pleads.

Alex sits back down in his wheelchair, but before he lets Paul take him away, he turns back to Dream. Morpheus only follows his movements with his eyes.

"She stopped ageing. That was your doing, right? That day my sister came down here, you did something, didn't you?"

Dream does not reply per usual, but his brows do crease together slightly.

"Leave her alone. That's all I ask of you now. I won't be coming down here again."

The circle that kept Dream trapped had been broken by the wheel of the wheelchair. Paul glanced at it but said nothing. The two men left.

You waited for the opportunity. You would need to wait for Alex to go to bed before you went anywhere. There was also the issue of the guards down in the basement.

You hadn't thought that far ahead, but yo were determined to see that man again. You had questions that you couldn't wait to ask anymore. Alex wasn't going to answer them, so you had to ask him.

You didn't have much time to come up with a plan, but as it would turn out, you wouldn't need one. Not exactly.

Alex had gone to bed. You were certain of it. With your key in hand, you unlocked your door and poked your head out. You heard foot disappearing at the end of the hall but saw no one else. You step out and close your door behind you.

You're about to make your way down the hall when the sound of gunshots echoes from the basement. The sound is so loud that you're certain everyone can hear it.

You hear voices behind you and run for it, putting in the code for the door you had memorised and disappear down into the basement. You come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.

One guard had his gun raised at the sphere, which had now shattered. The other guard was trying to calm the other, but she soon stopped when the man inside the sphere stepped out.

He was tall. Very slender. Pale. Handsome.

His eyes had locked onto yours. You felt like the air had once again been stolen from your lungs. You stare at him as a portal opens up beside him.

You're afraid.

He stands there, harsh wind whipping at him from the portal, his hand raised out toward you. He doesn't utter a single word, but you understand.

You don't, can't, move.

He lowers his hand and turns to the portal. He leaves.

You gasp softly, finding yourself able to breathe again. Whatever power he seems to have over you, it feels almost suffocating. You doubt you'll see him again, but your scar burns and you have to wonder.

☆☆☆

You had retreated back to your room before anyone realised who you were or what you were doing down there. You had been unable to sleep.

The house has been the most awake you have ever heard it. Paul had called loudly for a doctor. Guards had been running back and forth constantly through early hours of the morning.

You had kept to yourself in your room. By the time the sun came up, your door was unlocked and opened. Paul was standing in your doorway. You sat up on your bed and looked at him.

He had definitely looked better.

"He's gone."

You stare at him. "Who?"

You knew who.

"The man. He's gone. Alex is... he won't wake up..."

You feel something heavy in your stomach. Alex wouldn't wake up? That sounded like that sickness people had. Did the man do that?

"I... I know what to do."

You let the silence hang between you both. What could you say? You used to like Alex when you were children, but after Rodrick died, he became just the same.

"Look, I know you didn't like him for keeping you locked up in here, but look at you. You're not... normal. The man did something to you."

"He didn't do anything," you defended him. Despite knowing nothing about him, you chose to defend him.

"He must have. Can you even die...? Something happened to you. Magic, or something."

You scoffed.

"I'm not going to ask you to leave. You can stay here. I won't even lock the door anymore."

"How kind of you," you say dryly.

Paul realised this wasn't going anywhere. He had told you what happened and that was it. Paul closes the door behind him but doesn't lock it. He leaves you alone.

You let go of your tough front and feel the tears fall gently. You wipe at your cheeks and curl up on your bed.

Now, what are you supposed to do? You have nowhere else to go. No one to rely on. Not even your dream man.

You were alone.

☆☆☆

@deniixlovezelda - @missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @meganlpie - @thoughtsfromlayla - @ladyjbrekker

@mwaaaaaugh - @bluespecs14 - @intothesoul - @lady-violet - @navs-bhat - @krahk - @oldsoulmagic

@rubyrose2014 - @lorkai - @roxytheimmortal - @thescarletwitchjobro - @intothesoul - @gemini-mama - @whotperlinda

@dreamingblueberries - @the-shadow-of-aurora - @novavida - @blackgirlmagicforever

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 -

[straykids-gives-me-life]

A/N: I absolutely LOVE this request sm so ofc I'm going to write it. Hope you like it @aaasia111 ❤️

------

♡ Chan ♡

"Love, how many times do I have to ask you to not speak to him?" Chris says, his volume slowly rising.

"Why shouldn't I?" You yell.

"Because he wants to fuck you! I can tell!" He shouts, turning to look you in the eyes.

His lips are the only think you can focus on right now. Every ounce of anger you had in your body 5 seconds ago has just left the room. You are so lucky to have this God of a man.

"Y/n, are you even listening to me!?" He continues.

"Y/n!"

Nope. His lips are getting in the way.

Without a second thought, you grab him by the back of his head and pull him into a kiss that one can only describe as... messy. Your lips crash together, and your noses are smushed against each other's.

Chan's eyes widen before he slowly settles into the kiss, his tongue sliding along your bottom lip and slips into your mouth.

You're fully lost in the kiss until he pulls away and just says.

"So let's say it's a draw."

♡ Minho ♡

The door slams. Oh god. He's mad.

"Y/n, what the fuck is wrong with you?" He asks, anger laced in his voice.

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused.

"What do you mean 'what do I mean?'?"

"I'm confused, can you just tell me what's going on?" You say.

"Who's Kai?"

Um. What?

"Sorry?" You say, even more confused than before.

"Oh don't act like that. Who the fuck is Kai?"

"I seriously don't know what you're talking about, I don't know a Kai," you respond.

"Y/n I swear to fucking God."

He pushes his hair back, but you can't help but focus on his lips. The red tint is making you go feral. You know what it felt like to kiss them, and that's all you want to do. His tongue slips out of his mouth to dampen them before he starts to speak again.

"You clearly know a Kai because he's been blowing up your phone all day!"

"How do you know that?" You ask, your eyes still locked on his lips.

"Because your phone is still connected to my watch but that's not the point here. My point is-" he sees the way you're looking at him and his speech halts a little. "Um. Yeah. My point is that uh... you shouldn't be speaking to other guys."

"I'm not though that's the thing. Min, do you really think I'd cheat on you?" You say, trying to make him realise he was being irrational.

He looks at your lips. A small grin creeps onto his face before he just mumbles the word 'no'.

♡ Changbin ♡

"Y/n can you stop being such a bitch for two seconds!" He shouts, throwing his headphones across his desk, turning to look at you.

His lips, oh my god. You could just kiss them all day.

"Changbin-"

"No, y/n!" He yells, standing over you. "Youve been nagging me all day and saying I've not been paying you enough attention! You know I'm fucking busy, what is your problem?"

His lips.

"Changbin, let me speak." You say.

"No. Its my turn to speak now."

Oh shit. You were losing your mind to his fucking lips.

"Ho many times do I have to tell you that-"

You cut him off by harshly pressing your lips against his, your hand creeping around to the back of his neck.

He groans into your mouth slightly before melting into the kiss and forgetting about the argument completely.

♡ Hyunjin ♡

He always does this. Leaving his shit all over the room.

"Hyunjin," you say, barging into the bedroom.

He looks up at you. His lips looking enticing as always.

"Yes, love?" He says the words escaping so angelically that your knees felt weak.

How could you be mad at him when he looks and sounds like that?

"Can you please stop leaving your things lying around?" You say all anger leaving your body.

"Oh shit, sorry, love. I keep forgetting to pick them up," he says, his voice so soft.

"It's okay."

"Can I give you a kiss to make it better?" He says, a grin creeping onto his face.

"Maybe."

♡ Jisung ♡

"I don't fucking care, y/n! You were flirting with him!" He shouts, his face getting redder and redder.

His lips looked so kissable though. You needed to defend yourself but you couldn't think straight with them right in front of you.

"Okay! I'm sorry! I thought I was just being friendly!" You yell, your brain going blank.

"Bullshit."

He looks so angry which just makes him look even hotter to be fair.

He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, leaving a residue behind that you just want to kiss right off.

"Can you stop looking at my lips and talk to me?" He says, the cockiness in his tone being so obvious.

This was going to be a long ass night.

♡ Felix ♡

"I don't care, y/n! I don't care if you need to do anything, I'm busy!" He shouts, making you flinch a little.

It was extremely rare that felix got this mad, so for you to see him like this got you feeling some type of way. (😏😏😏)

His lips were looking extra good today too which didn't help you at all.

"Why don't you care!" You yell back, trying to make it seem like you were laying attention to something other than his lips.

He walked forward, making you step back, repeating the process until your back was against the wall, and he stood in front of you, looking down at your figure.

"Because I have better things to do," he says, coldly, the lack of emotion actually hurting you a little.

"Felix," you say. "What is going on with you lately?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, catching your eyes landing on his lips. "But, I've figured out what's up with you right now."

♡ Seungmin ♡

"Shut the fuck up, y/n! For once just be quiet!" He screams, twisting his face up in rage.

God, he was pretty.

"How many times do I have to tell you to shut up before you get the fucking picture!"

Tell me to shut up and then kiss me, and I might listen, you think.

His lips oh my god.

You could die.

"Tell me what is so difficult about shutting up!"

You couldn't. What the hell was wrong with you?

"Come on, tell me." He sounded so stern.

"Nothing," you say, your voice being quiet, the effect of his lips alone messing with your head.

"See? Not so hard."

He was going to be the death of you.

♡ Jeongin ♡

"Y/n, can you just go away for just one second!" He shouts from next to you, scaring you a little. "You never give me any space, I swear to God!"

Ummmm, why did he look so fine right now? And his lips? Death.

"Um," you say, your head frazzled by his features. "Sure."

"Thank you." He says, scoffing at your behaviour.

"But first," you say, inching closer to him.

"Let me do this."

You grab his face and crash your lips together, his eyes widening before settling into the kiss, his fingers locking into your hair.

After a minute or so, you finally pull away and look back at him smugly.

"I'll leave now," you smile.

"Well, I think you had a very strong argument there," Jeongin says, making you laugh.

---

I hope you guys liked this cause it's literally 1:06 AM right now, and I am wasting away. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH THO. BYE GIRLIES <3333

[allpiesforourown]

Okay, okay, permanent-pregnancy for Shizun anon back again. I have read the worries people have, but have been too sick meanwhile to answer, but here it goes! Like, there is no reason to worry about the potential child, because you just have to decide what is your goal when making Shizun pregnant??? Children don't have to be involved at all!

Like, we know Shizuns love of the monstrous right?? What if he had a little accident when finding a new plant and after he is saved he finds it left a little something behind? And of course this plant is extremely rare so he couldn't possibly just let it's offspring die, no the only option is to carry it to term and then safely release it back into nature! He would be so cute and excited about learning about it, but also sooooooo shy, why did it have to be like this, oh, but he can't show that to the other lord's if they then decide to remove it, he is way too protective for that! So as his disciples it is of course our responsibility to make sure Shizuns is cared for and all his needs met while the little baby plant grows inside him!! (And if afterwards Shizuns realised this is the only way to keep the plant from dying out... Shizun is so kind and sometimes sacrifices have to be made)

But what if it is us breeding him that is the point? Well, I imagine Binghe and Shizun having shameless sex doing dual cultivation and as Binghe *AHEM* in Sizhun their cultivation mix and a new spirit is created. Something between demonic cultivation and human cultivation, something never seen before! Something only they could make together and now have to foster and grow! Since this isn't a normal pregnancy who knows how long it will last, just how it will affect sweet kind Shizun? Certainly, it is up to dear Binghe to make certain all Shizuns needs are met no matter what!!! (And if suddenly other cultivators want that new cultivation core and tries to kidnap Shizun? Well, then it is ours Binghes responsibility to save him each time which means Shizun would gladly reward us in any way we wanted!)

Okay, but what about some darker drama?? Shizun stuck in the Water Prison and Binghe can't have him running, what do he do? He finds an artifact that keeps Shizun pregnant and vulnerable (Not with actual child, it is just a curse), because how can he run when his feet hurt and stomach grows? How could he show himself to the rest of the world when he is like this? No, now he has to stay with Binghe and hopefully this will give Binghe time to prove himself for Shizun! And once they finally talk and clear the misunderstandings, then Binghe of course undoes the curse and they live happily ever after! (And if they keep the artifact for some... More adventurous evenings, that is between Binghe and Shizun)

And of course, what if you want to go full horror? Shizun becomes cursed without his knowledge and nothing we do can find the source or undo it! As he gets morning sickness, slowly grows larger, has all these weird cravings, there is no doubt what it is! But how could it be possible? Shizun knows he is a virgin, never even thought about the deed, how could this have happened? And he is a man, this shouldn't even be possible! He would be so scared and lost and we would be there to hold his hand and for him to have a shoulder to cry on as he shared all his worries and we would stay by his side during it all, so he never felt alone. Who knows what will happen, but we do know we will never leave Shizun! (And as long as he is like this... Then I suppose Shizun could never leave us...)

The point is, you need to ask yourself, what is the goal with the preggers Shizun kink?? None of these examples require an actual child to be involved, like we don't need to consider ethical dilemmas here! Do we want Shizun protecting the rare life growing inside of him? To we want to see him fill out with something we Binghe gave him, something created together? Do we want the drama of using the vulnerability against him until we finally understand each other? Or do we love the horror and a scared Shizun who can only go to us for support? So many different directions to go and each of them delicious in their own way! The wonders of fiction mean there are no limits of what we can put Shizun through OR how we save him <3

Sorry about my ramblings, just wanted to share my thoughts <3 Hopefully one or more of these scenarios will be written out soon, just have to write a few more chapters for my fic first!

Have a great day!

Op I am genuinely flabbergasted. I don't think anyone has ever out-horny'd me like this when it comes to shizun. I am listening and learning. Pondering all these mpreg alternatives. Thank you

[yuanology]

it struck you suddenly, swiftly, with startling clarity one night that you had never expected gojo satoru to stay, only ever hoped that he would not leave so soon.

in every scenario you crafted in your head, it always ended with gojo satoru's back turned to you— walking away at a steady pace, never once sparing you a second glance backwards. why would he? he was gojo satoru, the strongest, god amongst men.

there was no good reason for him to stay, no good reason for him to crave more. he was with you because you were a thrill, but what would happen when the evenings grew stale and you stopped being enough? what would happen on the day you have outgrown your purpose, becoming merely another faceless passerby in satoru's life? it was certainly well into the realm of possibility. satoru met brilliant people every day. it was a wonder why he had stayed with you for so long.

so, gojo satoru would leave, and you would watch him go.

but he had not left yet, and you had not needed yet to watch him go, so you dragged him by the arm and shove him onto the mattress and you did not let him go. because as long as he was here, as long as he was choosing you for whatever godforsaken reason, then you would attend to his every need— you would pick him apart, and you would fuck him, and you would love him in the ugly way that you both only ever knew how to love.

teeth clashed against teeth, nicking at tongue and lips and drawing blood. there was nothing kind about the way you were grappling for his shirt, tugging it over his head. you did not pull away, because you did not want to see the fresh scars that had appeared on your skin— the product of his saviour complex cutting it at the nick of time, just as the blows were about to meet you instead.

"you idiot," you snarled against his mouth, because you hate him and you hate him and you hate him. How could a man designed for such greatness be so much of an idiot at the same time? "i had it handled."

satoru scoffed, a sound that bled out into a gasp when your teeth sunk into his jugular. "you would've died," he snapped back, his voice breathless. his hips bucked up. "you didn't even realise it was— fuck. you didn't even realise it was there until I got it," he said. "which, you're welcome, by the way— hah, not there."

satoru broke off into a moan, head tossing back against the pillows, baring more of his throat. you were merciless, biting and dragging your mouth all over the pale skin. his arms came to wrap around you, clawing at your back until you felt your shirt strain underneath his nails. you hissed at the sensation; he dug his nails harder. bastard.

"off," satoru said, digging his fingers into the space between your shoulder blades. a moan escaped you before you could stop it. "now. i wanna see you."

"you don't get to tell me to do shit," you bit out, but you still pulled back to tug your shirt over your head. you were on him once again in an instant, canines unsheathing to bite at the corners of his mouth, leaving fresh bruises all over his mouth. satoru merely parted his lips, a loud groan escaping his lips. pain slut.

satoru tried to reach for you, but you could read his body language like the morning newspaper. before he could blink, you had him flat on his back once again on the mattress, wrists pinned on top of his head underneath your right hand. with the way you were practically straddling his chest, he had no room to move— satoru tried to buck you off, but you didn't give.

after a short struggle, satoru finally slumped, pouting at you. "come on," he whined. "just fuck me already!"

"you shouldn't have done that," you said instead, insistent and futile.

satoru looked up at you, disgruntled. "you're still on about that?" he asked incredulously. "i'm naked underneath you, all hot and bothered, and you're still thinking about that?"

"you could have died," you repeated

"but I'm not dead," replied satoru dumbly.

and fuck. well, wasn't that the fucking point that satoru wasn't getting. he wasn't dead, yes, but he could have died doing something so reckless whilst being in a position where he wasn't supposed to do anything— he wasn't supposed to get hurt, death was not supposed to linger so close to him.

before you could reprimand him, however, satoru was blinking up at you with those damnable blue eyes, doing that thing he did where he angled his head so that his eyes would look bigger; shinier with the promise of unshed tears, just as you liked it.

fuck you, you thought, even as your free hand was already migrating to rest over his collarbones, a simple threat, a quiet promise.

"come on," satoru urged you again, rolling his hips against air. "we're both fine. if anything, you should reward me for saving you. isn't that how these things work?"

you snarled at him. "i ought to fuck you until you can't walk," you bit out. "until you can't do stupid shit like that again."

satoru let out a moan, elongated and exaggerated, and you wanted to punch him in the face. "isn't that exactly what i just said?" he simpered, blue eyes blinking at you. "c'mon. fuck me already!"

fuck you.

but you had never been good at denying gojo satoru anything, even when he was being a demanding brat, so you found yourself buried balls-deep in satoru anyway— his ass high in the air and his sounds being muffled by the sheets underneath him. your hand found a grip in his hip, the other having found purchase where it's buried into the tangled locks of his hair.

your hips rammed at inhumane speed, aiming repeatedly for satoru's prostate. you didn't have the patience to toy around with him this time around. satoru wailed beneath you, and you only fucked him harder, faster, rougher, because that's what he wanted and you didn't have the self-control to drag this out any longer.

because you had always known this would not last, that gojo satoru would never stay, but there were moments like these when you would remember that there was a slim chance—a slim, you pray, you always pray, even if you don't believe in god and something greater anymore, you still always pray—that gojo satoru would not even have a chance to leave before he was taken away from you.

and he very nearly was, even if he refused to admit it.

satoru's back arched, and you knew he was close. there were tears in his eyes, dotting at warm summer skies, and you wanted to rip him to shreds because how dare he come into your life, turning everything you have ever known by its head, and then forcing himself into a state where he was destined to perpetually inevitably leave, one way or another.

"please," satoru gasped out. "w'nna cum."

"do you think you deserve it?" you asked sharply, right by his ear, even though you already know you would give it to him because he was all the more pliant after the first orgasm.

"yeah," he slurred out. his eyes were halfway rolled back into his skull, his words caught between punched out moans. "almost died for you. fuck— think i can cum now."

you scowled at him, but you bit at his shoulder all the same. satoru let out a loud whimper, hips bucking, forcing your cock deeper into him. he wasn't wrong, and that was the damn worst part. satoru did almost die for you. in a way, that was deserving of reward.

"i hate you," you told him anyway, because he knew not to take it personally when you were angry because it likely meant that you cared more than you should.

he let out a weak sound, half a whimper and half a laugh. "lemme cum," he begged. "please. 've been good."

and he had been— because he had done everything wrong, but he had also done everything right, and he was right here, he was still right here, and you could do to him whatever you wanted, and satoru had not left yet, and he had not been taken away from you.

this had to be worth something.

"fine," you bit out, and satoru let out a delighted whine.

because satoru would leave one day, and you would never have him eternally, but tonight, he came home to you, with you, and you could have him for another night, for another day. you had him. you still had him— to destroy, to control, to command, to adore.

so, when you said, "come for me, satoru." it was your name on his lips, a prayer, when he obeyed.

[trancylovecraft]

Ok. But Kokushibo if s/o hugged or kissed him for the first time? Can be yandere or not. I don't mind.

(KNY) YANDERE! KOKUSHIBO x READER: Sandalwood (DRABBLE)

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: i love this man and his stupid six eyes and his stupid sword that could kill me and his long ahh hair and his- FANDOM: Demon Slayer

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

How long had it been?

[F/N]'s head lay against the admittedly comfortable pillow, The long dejected solace being finally let in, Nuzzling the cold of her cheek further into it. How long had it been since he had taken her hostage?

Days? Weeks? Months? Years? [F/N] didn't know how long it had been since she had been siphoned under the moons eye, Taken away in the cover of night and dragged into her own personal hell and called the unwilling wife of a monstrous man?

Now she stared at him blankly from across their shared bedroom, Him, The six-eyed beast that was fixing up his kimono and settling the wisps of ebony black hair in a much more pleasing way.

[F/N] recalled him saying something about a meeting of sorts, Where or why was unknown to her and she didn't dare ask. She only stared at him from behind, Looking at all the curves and the creases she had grown unfortunately accustomed to.

[F/N] remembered how horrid it was for her at first, Dragged away with his reptilian claws trying to grasp at whatever he could of her. His entrapping, Twisted and vile mockeries of affection he tried to show to his newfound 'wife'

The way his body forced itself to entwine with hers, His hands caging her waist. It had never went that far, But it had gone just far enough to satiate the beast. The man who she so desperately hated with every inch of her being.

But even so.. She yearned for him.

Actually.. Not him exactly, No, But what he could provide. She had been so isolated for so long, Siphoned just long enough to desire for that human touch. So much so that it didn't have to be human anymore, Monstrous, But all the more comforting.

[F/N] hated herself for it, How could she, The once respectable daughter of a wealthy clan sink so low to crave a demons love? Kokushibo, The demonic samurai of the night. Her "Husband".

She had tried so long to keep herself away, To keep some part of her dignity yet..

Hands snaked around his waist. Kokushibo's shoulders instantly raised as if to lunge for the hilt of his sword, Not even lowering once his mechanical head tilted to the side, Burning golden eyes staring down at his wife starting to hug him.

"..What.. What are you doing?"

His voice was demanding and gravelly, Coming deep from within his throat. [F/N]'s arms only coiled around him tighter, Despite everything telling her no, She had found comfort in the reverberation of his song.

She pressed her face into the dip of his back, Hips pressing into his just a little lower. [F/N] took in the scent of sandalwood drifting amongst the fibres of his kimono, Shutting her eyes just to emphasise that more.

"I.. I wanted to say my farewells to my Husband before he left for his meeting, I'm sorry.." She whispered into his back, Head pressing against him like the pillow she rested on. Even though she had apologised, She didn't relent her grip.

Though his shoulders depressed, Golden hues of his eyes staring back at her, Almost widening. [F/N] didn't dare to look back at him, What punishment or retribution could come from this..

But she felt the cold palms of the demon lay upon the ones situated around his waist, [F/N] opened her eyes. She was almost terrified once they gripped hers, Pried them from his waist before swiftly turning around on his heels.

[F/N]'s eyes widened, Stepping back. She was stupid-! She shouldn't of tried touching him- Is he going to hurt her?! Lock her in the closet again or would he finally bite the bullet and slice her ne-

The cold press of his lips touched the surface of her forehead.

[F/N]'s eyes widened as she finally realised the cold hand cupping her cheek, Rough yet loving. Tough palms yet they caressed her so gently as the coarse surface of his lips remained firm on her forehead.

She should of hated this, She should've detested it-!

"..Once I have returned from my meeting, I expect you to be ready with dinner.. Afterwards, Make sure to clean up.. Be prepared.." He breathed, Husky and demanding as he finally pulled away from her.

And as soon as his lips had met her forehead, He was gone. Disappearing into thin air, Assumedly summoned to wherever he had business being. The scent of sandalwood still lingered in the air, Leaving [F/N] star-crossed and dazed.

But she loved it all the same..

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch Part 2

Summary: You wake up in the Fire tower confused and going through sedative after effects and shock.

Words: 2.1k

CW: None

Confusion was the first thing. You were confused. It was such an effort to get your eyes to open. Maybe you had caught a cold? You groaned at the idea and rolled over in bed to try and grab at another pillow, finding your forehead hitting against something solid. Why were your sheets so scratchy? Oh no, you could smell smoke, you knew you shouldn't have done that rewiring by yourself. 

"There, you're ok. Sorry, I must smell bad right? Would've changed into sweats but you seemed so content right here that I didn't want to move."

That certainly got your attention. You rolled back half way, letting your eyes open to look up at the man whose lap your head was in. The yellow glow from the lights above him made him look like an angel with that bright smile of his. 

Kyle felt his heart nearly stop when you brought fingers to his cheek, looking up at him all adorable and soft. He knew it was the drowsiness from the sedative wearing off that had you so slow and touchy, but who was he to stop you? That was an impossible thing to ask of him when he watched the way your brows furrowed cutely in confusion. You were so much prettier up close. 

"Who...?"

"My name's Kyle, everyone calls me Gaz though."

"Hmm" you sighed, your mind trying to just focus on one thing to try and ground. "Kyle... s'a pretty name." You could hear the slur in your voice and it made you frown. That didn't sound like you at all. Weren't you supposed to be in bed?

"Think any name would be pretty if you said it luv," Kyle said, his smile making you want to smile too. 

You lay like that for a while, just looking at him while your brain tried to take account of your body. He was playing with your hair you realised after a while, gentle and relaxing. He was in a compression shirt and you could see a firefighter's jacket thrown over the back of the sofa you were on. Oh, that was why it had felt scratchy beneath you and smelled of smoke, he must still be wearing the bottom half of the suit. Wait, why were you on a cute firefighter's lap again? You shot up, feeling a rush of dizziness from the suddenness of the movement that was only somewhat soothed by the hand that had been playing with your hair going to rub circles on your back.

"Dosia!"

"Dosia?"

"My cat! What... what happened?"

Kyle knew Dosia was your cat. They had figured that out as she had been rubbing up against Price and Johnny had tried very hard to get her to do the same to him without much success. Johnny said it had been close enough to your cottage that they heard you call on her. That was months ago. He didn't want to say that they had been stalking your cat through the woods whenever she went wandering so that they could make the little thing like them, but that had sort of been what it was. Not that Price had needed to, Dosia loved him and Simon almost as immediately as she had hated him and Johnny. At least she didn't hiss at them anymore, just tolerated them. Good thing since she was their cat now as well. 

"Oh right that's who she belonged to! We picked up a little cat in the forest nearby after the fire, she's fine. Do you remember the fire?"

"Oh God, I nearly died. I... did you save me?"

You turned on the sofa to look at him. If only you knew the sight you made, on your knees, hands planted on the sofa in the gap between them, looking up at Kyle with those big confused doe eyes. Price had said he should lie to you when he needed to, and it felt very much like he needed to lie to you. It wasn't like he hadn't been part of the team that saved you, even if it wasn't him behind that mask that had been cradling your head so gently after hauling you out of the flames. 

"I will always save you."

He had turned his body slightly as well to be in line with you and the absolute reverent sincerity of the statement caused your breath to hitch. Dosia was safe, you were alive, there had been a fire. Everything was hazy and you felt weak and dizzy and through all that was this beautiful man who had saved you looking at you like you hung the stars. It was intense and you could feel the heat of the fire on your skin and feel the smoke in your nostrils and see your whole life going up in flames as the memories came leaking back. 

You didn't want them, you wanted anything else but remembering exactly what had happened. The only thing that you needed to know was that you had been laying there looking up at this man in a mask, the man who had carried you out of there. And he was telling you that he'd save you again if it came to it. 

Kyle watched it happen, watched as you were experiencing everything again. Couldn't do it, couldn't just let you spiral. Maybe it would be the healthy thing, let you process it all. But the healthy thing would inevitably calm you down, get you asking the right questions and wanting to get out of here and start building your life back again. The healthy thing would make you leave because he didn't know what lie they were going to tell to get you to stay. And he couldn't have that. 

It was easy to have all that sudden building dread and terror convert to heat when Kyle lunged forward and pressed a desperate kiss to your lips. You threw yourself into it, instantly all teeth and tongues and oh you were on your back on the sofa now and his big, safe body was over yours, hand dancing up your side and making your nerves spark. You couldn't keep still, hands grabbing at his face then his hair then his neck, anything to keep him from leaving you. 

His knee was settled between your legs to keep him steady and you accidentally bit his tongue when he pressed closer to give you friction. He pulled back with a sharp cry and you just panted up at him in shock and utter embarrassment. Practically ravishing a man you had only met hadn't made you go red but biting his tongue like an idiot because you had gotten a little over excited had heat flooding your cheeks.

"Dinnae stop on our account."

Oh God, there were 3 men walking into the room. The room that you were splayed out on the sofa in, hair mussed, lips swollen and skin flushed. They weren't dressed like fire fighters but they were all large and fit looking. 

The one who had spoken looked pissed off. He was shorter than the others but broad, soft mohawk haircut and sharp blue eyes. He was ruggedly handsome in jeans, boots and an old rugby hoodie. You liked his accent you thought, would like it better if he didn't seem angry with you. They must be the other fire fighters who were off duty now. They would have been there at the cottage. They would have risked their lives to stop the fire, barely made it home and gotten cleaned up and then come to relieve Kyle only to find you with your tongue down his throat. 

You pushed frantically at the chest above you, giving yourself just enough room to be able to twist your limbs around his and roll off of the sofa to the floor, scrambling to stand and straighten yourself out. By the time you had made it to your feet one of the other men was already there, ready to catch you when your legs went to jelly and collapsed out beneath you. 

"Woah there little bird, you need to go slow for a bit, don't have your legs back yet. Not that Garrick would have helped," he said, only sliding a short, stern glance at Kyle before returning his full attention to you. 

He was older, handsome in a way that was cosy. When his eyes were on you, you could see his smile in them. It went a little ways to calming you, but you couldn't help but glance at the Scottish man and the other man standing moodily by him in a balaclava. You could not believe the situation you had found yourself in, having to cling as gingerly as you could to someone to stay on your feet after being caught making out with one of his colleague like a horny teen. 

"I- sorry, I'm ok now I think" you said, mortified and off kilter. 

He didn't fully let go of you, keeping his hands gently grazing your elbows as you caught your balance and took a moment to get some solidness about you. There was a wild thought in your head that he smelled nice, like pine and suede, and suddenly you felt disgusting. You were filthy, covered in sweat and ash and it was ridiculous that Kyle had even wanted to kiss you in this state. You wanted to be clean, you wanted to be clean and bundled up in blankets with Dosia and a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

Johnny wasn't mad at you, never at you. He wasn't even properly mad at Gaz, just jealous. He had always been a bit of a jealous bastard, hell he had been green when Dosia had instantly taken to Simon over him. Price he could understand, anyone would like that man, but Simon? Simon who didn't even like the cat? Infuriating. So when he came in after having to play nice with the police, after Price had made him shower and change before basically sprinting back to you, and saw golden boy Kyle Garrick on top of you? Absolutely committing the deadly sin of envy with gumption. 

It wasn't until Simon had elbowed him hard in the ribs and he had went to growl at him that he actually paid attention. Simon nodded his head to you and Johnny actually looked, saw the state you were in. You were shaking, trying to touch Price as little as you could without falling over. God he wanted to kiss you until you forgot your own name. Thought about it too, was ready to march over and scoop you up until Simon elbowed him again before leaning down to speak in hushed tones to him. 

"She wants to get clean and changed. Offer to take her back already."

Johnny side-eyed him, but he trusted Simon. Owed him his life actually, he had got him through a hell of a bad situation once with nothing but radio comms. So instead of going over all confident romantic hero like he wanted  he instead put on a winning smile and approached like you were a scared animal.

"Hi bonnie, sorry if I scared ye. Name's Johnny. That's John, but we all call him Price tae keep it from getting confusing. This one is Simon." That's it, nice and soft and gentle so you would relax and want to come home with them. "Ye've been through a right shitemare of a day, so for now let's get ye a hot shower, some food and a reunion with yer kitty cat eh?"

You blinked at him, looking at Price and Simon and seeing them both waiting for you to respond. You couldn't look at Kyle, shyness now creeping in after the rush of adrenaline had worn off. It was like Johnny had completely read your mind because right now that sounded absolutely like the only thing that would make you yourself again. You nodded and Price scooped you up despite your little yelp of protest, chuckling warmly about how you didn't have shoes on so you couldn't very well walk outside. 

Kyle waited until you were well out of earshot before swiping at Johnny, the Scot anticipating the move and dodging out of the way with a mean laugh. 

"Shit timing you git."

"Naw, think ma timing was fucking astounding actually. Good of ye to teach her what a shite kiss feels like so I'm even more impressive in comparison."

Simon rolled his eyes and left them to play fight, falling into step quietly with Price. If Johnny thought he would be the next one kissing you, he was about to be disappointed.

[imtryingbuck]

Donations and Monsters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 3,021

Warnings: angst. Gunshot wounds. Hospitals. Blood transfusions (me not knowing how they work is a warning too). Small amount fluff

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

"We'll be right there." Standing up he handed her Wanda's coat that she had let her borrow the day earlier before putting his on.

"We need to go, come on" his voice wobbled enough to let her know it was serious and for her to comply.

~~~

Bucky took Theo's hand in his as he led her in to the hospital, to say she was confused is an understatement but when she saw Steve sitting on the chair running his hand through his messy blonde hair, leg bouncing a hundred miles per hour not stopping until Bucky said his name in a whisper.

Steve jumped up out of the chair, his face pained and eyes red as he rushed over wrapping his arms his best friend clinging on to him like a lifeline as the fresh tears tell.

Theo's eyes were glued to the spot of Steve's white shirt.

Blood.

Sliding her hand out of Bucky's she moves to where the rest were sitting, as she took in the familiar faces and the ones she didn't know her panic skyrocketed, seeing Nat red eyed as her hands shook blood coating them. Sam's arms leaning on his thighs his body still, tears wetting his cheeks. Clint burning a hole in to the wall his chest slowly rising and falling.

Turning to face Bucky she shook her head as he stared at her with tears falling freely, he made no effort to wipe them away. "Come here sweetheart" his voice softer than anyone had ever heard before.

Shaking her head once again she looked back at the people she had been around, those that she was slowly getting used to. She looks back to Bucky and cocks her head to the side, reminding him off a puppy who didn't understand the command it was given.

"Baby, please come here" His voice cracking has her feet moving as she gets closer his arms open and she falls straight into his chest, he quickly wraps his strong arms around her pulling her even closer.

The only person who wasn't sitting there was the only person who she has ever felt a connection too, her first and only friend.

Wanda.

"She's still in surgery Buck" Steve said handing Bucky and Theo a drink. A black coffee for Bucky and a hot chocolate for Theo.

"What the fuck happened?"

"I-I don't know, we went to the club to help set up for the weekend you know because of the new tables and chairs coming in an-and one minute everything was fine and we were all laughing and joking and...and then this guy came in, Robby told him that we weren't open and then he started shooting-" his explanation gets cut off by Bucky.

"Where is he now?"

"He's dead. I shot him, not quick enough though. None of us realised until Kimmy screamed that Wands had been shot. Buck I'm so sorry"

"You don't need to be sorry as long as she wakes up Steven"

"James, it's not his fault" Theo said weakly even though she believed her words the way she saw it, the blame went solely to the man who had shot Wanda. If Steve hadn't done something who's to say who else would have be injured or worse.

"It is-"

"No it isn't and you know it, she will get through this-"

"How do you know? You don't even know her like we do, not being funny but you shouldn't even here, you're not family." Nat spat with her arms crossed.

"Watch who you’re fucking speaking too Natasha" Bucky growled.

"Why are you defending this bitch? You've already cheated on her with your whore, your marriage is a joke and you know it"

"Say one more thing Natasha I fucking dare you"

Sam places his hand on Theo's arm when she tries to leave. "I need to go toilet" she whispers, he searched her eyes to try and detect a lie, finding none he lets her go.

"There you are! I've been panicking, wh-why are you outside?" Bucky asks slightly out of breath, his eyes wide seeing Theo sat on a bench covered by a very small shelter as the rain splashed off her shoes.

"Natasha's right, I shouldn't be in there bu-but please just let me wait out here until I know Wanda's okay. I-I know I don't know her like you guys but she's my friend."

Slightly ignoring her words, forcing himself not to head back into the hospital and put Nat's head through a wall, he took her hand in his and helped her to stand

"You're freezing, let's get you inside to warm you up"

"B-but-I don't want to cause any trouble I can just wait out here until I know she's fine and I will head back to your home"

"You are my wife which makes you family. Please Theo, I want-need you with me"

"O-okay"

Walking hand in hand back into the hospital Theo felt a fluttery feeling in her stomach when Bucky rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. That's normal right? She asked herself.

"Steve, I'm sorry for trying to blame you"

"Buck its fine-"

"It isn't fine jerk." Bucky falls silent when he notices Nat walking over.

"Theo... I'm so sorry I shouldn't have snapped at you, I'm so sor" Nat's apology ends as she bursts out crying, her dam breaking. She had tried so hard to keep up the act that she was okay, trying to act like seeing her best friend being shot in front of her hasn't imbedded its self on her brain. If she was being truthful she regretted the words as soon as they spilled out of lips, though she hadn't formed a bond with Theo like Wanda had she had to admit that she liked having her around. Even if she didn't speak much, well hardly ever other than to Wanda.

Nat always took pride in knowing that she could at least cop up to her mistakes.

Once again Theo slid her hand out of Bucky's grasp and nervously wrapped her arms around the crying redhead whispering softly to her that it was okay, smiling to herself when she felt Nat's arms circle her body, crying even harder Theo just stood there and held her.

Time seemed to drag on as the clock ticking by slowly was the only sound heard other than the occasion coughing from a patient in the background as they sat waiting for an update to be given about Wanda.

Bucky was starting to grow restless as his leg bounced; his eyes going to the clock to Theo's hand snug tight in his then back to the clock. He didn't understand what was taking so long.

Just as he was about to say something to Steve a doctor came around the corner. "Family of Wanda Maximoff?"

In unison they all stood up including Theo - not like she had a choice as Bucky's hand got tighter around hers. "That's us, is she okay?" Bucky asked, praying to a higher power that his best friend was alive.

"Yes" everyone released a breath that none of them had realised they were holding in "She's stable however she has lost a lot of blood an-and unfortunately we haven't got any more of her type in storage-"

"How on earth do you not have her blood type in the hospital?" Steve asked puzzled by the ridiculousness of what he was hearing.

"We did sir but the amount she has lost we've had to use everything we have on hand, is anyone here the same type and willing to donate?"

At hearing Wanda's blood type Theo stepped forward not even looking to see if anyone else had "I'm the same Sir, I'm more than happy to do it"

"Would you please follow me then and we can start"

"Theo... you don't hav-"

"I do James, its Wanda. This isn't the first time I've had to do this, you don't need to worry she will be okay I promise" waiting for him to let go off her hand she followed the doctor who talked her through what was going to happen she hadn't heard Bucky's whispered words.

"It's you I'm worried about"

Not flinching at the sharp scratch of the needle growing accustomed to the quick feeling off pain by now, she looked over at Wanda watching as her friends chest raised and fell she let her free hand move over to hold Wanda's. "It's okay my friend I'm here to help"

"Do you need anything?" a nurse who had introduced herself as Susana had asked after taking her gloves off.

"N-no I'm okay, thank you"

"Okay, if you do just press this button and I'll come in." showing Theo the button she needed to press.

"Okay. Thank you"

Leaving just Theo and Wanda in the room, Theo took the silence as the perfect opportunity to fill Wanda in on what really happened when she had gone back to her father's house which was shortly followed by her apologising to her for lying. Then she told her about Bucky taking her shopping, admitting that she was scared he was going to want something in return, as payment. She told her friend as she slept that as she had no money to her name that the only thing she had to offer was her scared riddled body, admitting quietly that not even her soul had much worth to it.

Then embarrassingly admitted about what happened not even twenty minutes before the phone call.

Susana had come back in to remove the needle but Theo stopped her "I can give more-"

"It's not safe darling-"

"I can do it, I promise. I'm just going to need some water if that's okay?"

"Miss I'll have to talk to the doctor"

"That's fine"

Coming back with the doctor who had told her that it really wasn't that safe for her to give this much Theo shook her head and repeated what she had told to Susana all she needed in return was a cup of cold water. Though worried the doctor agreed but not without making Theo promise him that this was the last one.

This time around she sat in silence apart from the beeping of the monitor that reminded her that her friend was still alive.

"How much fucking blood did they take from you?" Bucky questioned as Theo stumbled a little bit out of the room.

"Not enough, I can do more but the doctor won't let me"

"Theo you've given enough oka-what's wrong?" asking as he notices her struggle to stand straight.

"Ne-need to sit"

"Okay-okay, I've got you" holding onto her arm he helps her walk the rest of the corridor and helps her sit in the seat he was sitting in before the nurse came to get him.

"Do you need anything?" Bucky asked worriedly.

"N-no I'm okay"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure"

Whilst Theo was in donating blood he had rang Martha to let her know about Wanda, it was only the right thing to do as Martha had known the redhead since she was a child. Martha told him that she was going to head back to the house and start cooking some dinner for them all, knowing they wouldn't do it themselves and just to put her own mind at rest that they had actually eaten. Bucky told her about the bags full of clothes and that they belonged to Theo, Martha's response was that she will make sure they are washed and dried before they came home.

None of them wanted to leave until the doctor all but forced them too, telling them to get some rest and that Bucky will get a phone call if anything changed. Bucky made it abundantly clear that he would have two of his men standing guard outside Wanda's room to which they doctor nodded in agreement or fear, Theo wasn't sure which one but she was glad her friend was going to be protected.

Getting into their cars Bucky held the passenger side door open for Theo, shutting it softly he climbed in the driver seat before following Steve's car which he was then closely followed by Sam and the rest.

Back at the mansion they enter silently, Theo watched from the side lines as they all fell into Martha's waiting arms as she came practically running out of the kitchen. Though her job was a maid she reminded Theo more like a mother to them as she watched Martha console them one by one.

Steve was the first one to pull away and head up to the stairs Theo heard him whisper that he was going for a shower, Nat followed suit as she still had Wanda's blood on her hands. Soon enough it was just Theo, Bucky and Martha standing in the foyer. Martha turned her attention on to the other woman, smiling sadly she made her way over and before Theo could comprehend what was happening Martha had pulled her in to her arms.

"Are you okay sweet girl?" the older woman asked.

"I'm okay, are you?"

"Don't worry about me, how about you both go and get a shower when your finished dinner will be done" Bucky nodded holding his hand out for Theo he tried his hardest to ignore the butterflies fluttering in his stomach when she doesn't hesitate in putting her hand in his.

"I'll see you in a few" Bucky says as he walks Theo to her bedroom door, he turns on his heels when he receives a nod. He walks to his own room and straight into the bathroom to wash the day off.

Everyone finished with their showers they sat at the dining table their forks scrapping off the plate as they devoured the food. Bucky told Theo that she was to sit at the table, next to him. No one uttered a word as they ate.

After dinner Bucky told Theo to either go to her room or to Wanda's library as they had a meeting, Theo nodded in understanding and made herself scarce. At first she was going to go to her room but decided to go to Wanda's library remembering her words from a few days ago.

The book that Wanda had been reading to Theo still sat on the coffee table and even though she couldn't read properly only knowing a handful of words when they were written down, she picked up the book and sat on the ground. She took her time in moving her finger along the page, spelling each word out just like Wanda had told her to do, feeling really proud of herself when she knew the words.

So lost in the book that she struggled to read she didn't notice the time or that Bucky was standing at the doorway watching her as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What are you reading?" startling Theo she slammed the book closed and stared at him like a deer in headlights. "Sorry sweetheart I didn't mean to scare you"

"It's okay James"

"So what are you reading?"

"I-I'm not sure" she admitted shyly.

Timidly she held the book up and Bucky had to supress the smile that tried to form on his lips "Theo your reading a dictionary..."

"It's what Wanda was r-reading to me the other day, she said it will help me to... read"

"There's no need to be embarrassed by that angel, I couldn't tie my laces until I was thirteen Wanda had taught me and then she had to reteach me a few years ago"

"R-really?"

"Yes, what word was you stuck on?" he asked moving his eyes to the dictionary and back to her face.

"This one" flicking through the pages she pointed at the word once she had found the right one.

"Extinction"

"Oh... thank you"

"It's really late so we need to head to bed" his heart aching when he saw her shoulders sag downwards.

"You can read more tomorrow, Wanda won't mind"

"O-okay" Theo perked up at the prospect of learning more words the next day.

Heading upstairs Bucky lingers at Theo's door the words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Theo will-can you sleep with me tonight please?"

"W-w-what?"

"It's just I don't want to be alone tonight-wait I'm not asking for sex I promise, I-jus-never mind I'm sorry I’ll see you tomorrow" he wants to slap himself for asking, he turns quickly and heads to his room when he stops short by the sound of her voice.

"Just what?"

Not turning around just moving his head to the side so he can see her in his peripheral "Just wanted you nearby"

"I-I don't have to do anything?" At her words he turns around to face her.

"No of course not!"

"Okay, I'll sleep on the floor"

"Bed, you'll sleep in the bed with me. T-that way I can protect you"

"Protect me from what?"

"Um the monsters?" he says it as a question, he smiles when she giggles.

"O-okay"

"Okay?"

"I'll let you protect me from the monsters"

"I promise I'll keep my hands to myself okay"

Nodding at him she took slow steps towards him when he opens his bedroom door he lets her in first, she takes in the huge room. Her heart skipping when she sees her painting hanging on the wall above his bed, she looks at him and he just shrugs his shoulders with a grin playing on his lips.

"I don't know how that got there"

"The monsters" she replied which had him barking out a laugh.

Once they were settled in to bed and the lights were turned off they quickly fell asleep, both having the first peaceful dreams in a very long time.

Bucky's hands weren't kept to himself.

When they woke the next morning Theo was curled up against his front, one of his arms was resting heavily over her waist his hand on her stomach. And his other arm was under neck and his hand was holding hers.

<Previous   Next>

Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan @sebastians-love @pattiemac1 @julvrs

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

This Is The Way It Always Goes.

Synopsis - Santiago always comes crawling back. You convince yourself this is the last time - but you both know that's not true.

Pairing - ExBoyfriend!Santiago Garcia x Female Reader

Word Count - 2.6k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. kinda toxic relationship dynamic. cursing. angst. this one gets a little rough.

Author's Note - I was in a mood when I wrote this. it's not often I write angst like this, but when I do, I aim to break some hearts. not sure why I chose Santiago for this one... it just felt right. I know this isn't a part of any of my series, but this idea came to me and I managed to bang it out in an hour. series fics coming soon - promise!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

This is the way it always goes.

You know it's him as soon as you hear the knocking.

He always knocks as if he's trying to break the door down. Maybe he is. He's broken down everything else in your life.

This is the way it always goes.

You tell yourself you're not answering. You're going to sit here and listen to him bang on the door. Then you'll listen as he yells, begs, tries to sweet talk you through the heavy oak, words seeping through the wood like raindrops. You're not answering.

But then he uses that tone, the honeyed, dulcet, low and raspy one. The one that shoots straight to your heart. His voice cracks, and so does your resolve.

You slowly wander towards the front door, sitting down against it with a thud. He hears it. He knows you're there. He knew you'd come around.

"Baby," he whispers.

You hear him loud and clear.

"Don't call me that. I'm not your baby, Santiago."

You're trying to sound authoritative but you just sound broken. Lost. Helpless.

"You are," he pleads. "Don't say that. You are my baby. You're always going to be my baby."

"No, I'm not," you plead back.

This is the way it always goes.

"You're the love of my goddamn life, honey. When are you going to realise that?"

"I'm not," you counter. "I'm not. I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not."

There are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks. You didn't even realise you were crying until you felt the water hit your lap. He always makes you cry.

Your lover shouldn't make you cry.

"Just let me in. Let me see you. Please."

It's always the pleading please that gets you. Santiago isn't exactly a polite man. He gets what he wants and he takes what he needs and he usually doesn't care who gets hurt in the process.

"No, Santiago. No. You do this every time. Nothing ever changes. You never change."

"I'm trying, baby. I promise you I am. It's hard, it's really fucking hard, but I'm trying. For you. I'm trying for you."

You don't believe a word he says. You don't. But he sounds so... genuine. He's the king of false promises, Santiago Garcia. Maybe, just maybe, this time it won't be false. One of these days he'll actually follow through. Maybe.

"I can't do this, Santiago. I can't. You break me more every time."

Soon, there'll be nothing left for him to break.

"Don't say that. Baby, don't say that."

You hear his head hit your door with a thud, resting there. You turn to press your forehead into the wood, the two of you so close but still so far apart.

"You hurt me, Santiago. And every time I think I'm okay, you show up again. It isn't fair."

It isn't fair. But this is the way it always goes.

"I never wanted to hurt you, hermosa. I never meant to. I love you."

It's always those three little words that crack the very foundations of your heart, splintering it into a million tiny pieces.

It's always those three little words that make you relent.

You sigh deeply, and reach up above your head to undo the deadbolt. The noise startles Santiago from where he's sat with his head against the cold wood. He rises to his feet and takes a step back, careful and considered.

You take a deep breath and unlock the door. You don't open it. You can't bring yourself to.

Santiago does. He turns the handle gently and pulls it towards him, stood still in his place. He doesn't come in. He wants to hear you say it first.

You finally look at him, and you regret it instantly.

He looks good. So good. His hair has grown out longer than the last time you saw him, light stubble dusting his face. He's got more grays coming in, salt and pepper scattered amongst the darkness. The sun has kissed his skin on all of his missions abroad, making him glow. He looks delectable.

"Cariño," he breathes. "Fuck. You're so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remember."

A tear drips down your cheek, soaking into the material of your shirt. He sounds so sincere. He is so sincere. You know he thinks the world of you. It's so painful.

This is the way it always goes.

He takes a step towards you, and you suddenly find you can't move. The rational part of your brain is telling you to get back, to put as much distance between you as possible. But you don't. You stay exactly where you are, allowing him to invade your space.

Santiago leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, large, calloused hands cradling your face tenderly.

"I missed you," he breathes, and you can taste the mint on his tongue. He's chewed this one type of gum since you've known him. He always tastes the same.

"You're gonna leave again," you whisper. "You come here, you fuck me up, and then you leave. I'm not doing it again, Santiago. I can't."

"I'm sorry, hermosa. So fucking sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. You know that."

"Then why won't you leave me alone?" you cry. "I try to move on every fucking time, Santi. And then you crawl back into my life and I let you! I let you! I always say it's gonna be the last time, and it never is. How do you think that makes me feel, huh? I feel like a fool, Santi. A fucking fool!"

Silence.

"Santi," he repeats slowly.

You look at him incredulously, and then scoff in disbelief.

"What?"

"You called me Santi, not Santiago. Like the old days."

You didn't even realise you'd done it. It just feels so easy, to fall back into old habits. It's programmed into you, a part of your DNA now. He's your Santi and you're his baby and you'll break each others hearts a million times and keep on going.

This is the way it always goes.

He reaches back and shuts the door behind him. He's staying. For now. You look at him with teary eyes, bottom lip trembling.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," you jab shakily.

"Is that what I am to you, hermosa? An old habit?"

You inhale sharply.

"You're a hell of a lot of fucking things to me, Santi."

You want to step back. You want to push him away and throw him out the door. You want to hit him, scratch at him, punch him in his stupid, gorgeous face. But you don't. Instead, you step forward - straight into his outstretched arms.

You press yourself into him, tucking yourself into his broad chest. He wraps his arms around you as tightly as he possibly can, terrified that you'll disappear any second. You both exhale the past, and inhale the present.

"If you hurt me again, I'll kill you," you threaten, muffled by the cotton of his t shirt.

"I'd let you," he whispers into your hair. "I'd die a happy man if I was to die at your hands."

He always does this. Knows exactly what to say. Promises he won't leave. Then, inevitably, he gets a call, asking him to fly out to Colombia, Kenya, Alaska. And he goes. Without a second thought for you, he goes.

You've lost count of how many times it has happened. You're getting a horrible feeling of déjà vu. But you just can't bring yourself to break free from this hold he has on you. Not when he's rocking you gently, murmuring how you're his whole world, how he has nothing if he doesn't have you, how this time he'll be different.

You're not sure if you believe him. But you're sick of arguing with yourself and you're sick of pulling teeth. He'll break your heart again. Maybe you're immune to it now. There's only one way to find out.

"Make me forget," you whisper. "Make me forget all the shitty things you've done to me. Make me forget my own fucking name, Santi. Please."

He pulls back to look at you, to see if you mean it. You do. You're tired of fighting this. Of fighting the inevitable.

Santiago lunges forward and smashes his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He groans when he realises you taste the same. You chew that gum just for him.

He hooks his foot around your ankle and yanks, sending you flying backwards. Santi's got his arms firmly around your back, cushioning your fall. As soon as you hit the floor, he's on you. His lips are pressing into your neck, down your jaw, nipping at your ears. His hands are groping at you roughly - your hips, your tits, your ass. Anything he can grab, he does.

Santiago stops momentarily to look at you intently. He dips his head down and licks up your cheek before kissing your eyelids tenderly. You taste like salty tears and years of regret.

You tangle your fingers into his hair and pull as hard as you can, hoping to hurt him. He groans in pain, and a sick sense of satisfaction settles in your stomach. You want to hurt him. You want to hurt him like he hurts you.

You lean up and sink your teeth into the expanse of his neck, tasting the musky masculinity of him. He groans again, and you feel lightheaded, drunk off the sound.

"Fuck you," you murmur against his lips in between kisses. "Fuck you, Santiago Garcia."

"I love you," he whispers back against your mouth. "I'll love you forever."

You don't know whether you love him or hate him or neither or both and it's making you crazy. You knee him in the ribs and he folds forward, his weight dropping onto you. You want to feel every inch of him against you, every dip and curve and rough edge he has to offer.

You're ripping his shirt over his head before you can think twice. He's managed to pull your pants down your legs, throwing them behind him. He tugs at your shirt, gets frustrated, and rips it down the middle.

"Fucking asshole," you spit, sinking your nails into his forearms hard enough to draw blood.

"You don't care," he drawls. "You love me and you don't care."

You grab at his belt, making sure it hits him in his side as you pull it through its loops. When he hisses in pain, you hit him with it again, this time on the ass.

"You wanna hurt me, hermosa, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you grit through your teeth, trying not to cry. "I want to do more than hurt you, Santi. I'd kill you if I could."

He kisses your neck so tenderly in response that you shake with rage. You keep trying to tell yourself that you don't want him, that you're better than this. It's no use. No one else in the world can make you feel the way Santiago can. You're cursed.

He's slipping your underwear down your legs and two fingers into the wet heat between your thighs before you can even think a coherent thought. You whine in response, canting your hips for more.

"You can lie to me all you want, honey. You can fight this all you need to," he murmurs, crooking his fingers. "But your body is giving you away. It always gives you away."

"I said make me forget, not remind me even more," you hiss.

He presses his thumb to your clit in response, the action making your legs go weak. You stop fighting him. Eventually, you always do. You surrender to Santiago, and go boneless on the floor.

"There we go," he coos. "You always give in, baby. That's how I know you love me."

You shake your head, tears welling on your waterline, saturating your eyelashes and making it hard to see.

"You do, baby. You do. I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

He speeds up his fingers, and it feels so good you see stars. Santiago leans down to kiss the spot underneath your ear, the one that makes you melt.

"Tell me the truth, my sweet girl. Please," he rasps against your skin. "Tell me you love me. Don't lie to me."

You're trying to clamp your mouth shut to stop the words escaping. They're on the tip of your tongue, begging to slip free. To make the pain go away.

"Please," he begs. "Please, baby."

He hooks his fingers just right, and your vision goes white. You're thrown into your climax with no warning.

"I love you," you gasp as you come. "I love you, Santi. Fuck."

You come down from your high, chest heaving, sweat dripping down your skin. You look up at Santi, and watch as the tears fall down his cheeks.

"I knew you did," he chokes out. "I knew I wasn't crazy. Fuck, I love you so much. I'll never let you go again."

He smashes his lips to yours, both of your cheeks wet with emotion, slipping against each other.

"I still hate you," you spit into his mouth.

"I know," he soothes back, running his tongue over your teeth. "I know."

This is the way it always goes.

Santi lines himself up between your legs, sliding home with a gasp. This is where he belongs. Home.

You throw your arms around his neck, trying to plaster yourself to his front. He rocks his hips steadily, sending you both sliding across the floor.

This is the way it always goes.

The two of you never make it past the hallway. Whenever Santiago comes back to you, it always ends with the two of you tangled together on the floor, limbs intertwined and bodies connected. You once tried to move the two of you to the couch, but Santi fucked you so hard you slid off the cushions anyway.

Much like he's doing now.

He snaps his pelvis into yours, the force of it making you keen. You're gasping into each others mouths, hands grappling at whatever you can find. His grip on your hips is so tight, you know you'll be black and blue tomorrow.

"Tell me you're mine," Santiago rasps into your mouth. "Please, baby. Please. Tell me you're mine."

You're so close you can taste it. As much as you don't want to admit it, the key to your release is those two words. You need to let go in more ways than one. You need to let go of the pain, the resentment, the regret, the false hope. You need to let go of everything, and surrender to the truth.

"I'm yours," you sob, tears running down your cheeks. "I'm yours, Santi. I always have been."

"You're mine," he confirms, pressing kisses all over your face. "And I'm yours, baby. I'm yours forever."

That's all you needed.

The two of you fall over the edge together, chests heaving and hips stuttering. You reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him down to your mouth. You're gasping against his lips as he chants sweet nothings against yours, the two of you panting and writhing.

Santiago collapses against you, his body acting as a weighted blanket. You wrap your arms around him, tracing absent minded patterns across his sweat slick skin. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, pressing occasional kisses wherever he can reach.

"I meant what I said," you murmur into his hair. "If you hurt me again, I'll kill you. I know at least three people that'd help me cover it up."

"Are those people Benny, Frankie and Will?"

"No comment."

He chuckles lowly, moving to press his forehead against yours.

"And I meant what I said. I'm yours. I'm yours forever."

This is the way it always goes.

[wolfiesmoon]

Binding the book

duke!gojo x fem!reader

This is in a manhwa au?? I don't want to call it a royalty au since neither of you are royalty but its essentially your average manhwa plot

I've decided to write something completely unrelated to the canon plot of jjk since I'm still in the process of watching the anime lmaooo

i feel overwhelmed by this anime tbh someone save me , i might just skip to the second season since i've already seen the first one back when it first came out but lowkey forgor everything😵

He's talking to her with that smile on his face again. You really shouldn't be bothered by this anyway, so why do you keep staring? You know how this story ends for you anyways.

You quickly turned around, not wanting to invade upon Satoru's buisness any further. You weren't outright bothering him, but you have a feeling he wouldn't enjoy you staring at him from behind the corner like some stalker. Not when he has better things to be looking at.

You've been married to Gojo Satoru for exactly 3 months now. It was a marriage born of neccessity, pure interest to stop marriage pressure from your families. Atleast on his side, it was. He made that clear during the marriage proposal.

"Well, I'm mostly just doing this so mom stops nagging me about finding a wife already. I'm sure the same applies to you."

Those words have been replaying in your head for a while now. You've known Satoru only for about a year at that point, and even then it was mostly through social events you attended that he also happened to be attending.

So needless to say, it was simulaneously a complete surprise and completely expected when he suddenly gave your family a surprise visit to offer his hand in marriage.

You knew there was zero romantic feelings involved from the very beginning, so you know you shouldn't be surprised if Satoru wants to leave you for Lady Ichikawa, the girl he talks to almost every day. But your heart can't help but clench at the sight, and you wish Satoru could...

Nevermind.

You should be attending to your duties anyways.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sighed, practically collapsing on your bed. Finance is not fun, to say the least. Being the Lady of the house is a suprisingly tiring job, and definitely gives you more respect for your mother.

The servants had already helped you change into your night gown, and you were perfectly ready to hit the hay right now.

As the servant put out the lights in the chandelier, you thought about Satoru again. The guy is an annoyingly persistent thought in the back of your head, that's for sure.

You haven't even talked in a week.

Sure, the two of you tend to get busy, but this essentially just proves to you what kind of marriage this is. If he did care about you, he would've checked up on you atleast once, wouldn't he..? You don't have a right to complain about it anyways, since you were the one who agreed to the marriage in the end. You should be grateful you even had a say in it.

As the servant closed the door behind you, you clutched the pillow in your hand. Maybe if you keep being useful, he won't discard you. You've only been thinking of yourself up until now. You just now realise that if he leaves you for Lady Ichikawa, you'll lose your family face.

This is shaping up to be a nightmare.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door. "Oiiii, can I come iiiin?"

Well, speak of the devil. You would recognise that voice anywhere. "Sure, come in." you said so, but did you want to face him right now? You felt conflicted, both really happy and really nervous.

As the door opened, you turned your head, his silhouette, illuminated by the lights in the doorway coming into view. "Man, it's dark in here. You're going to sleep so early?" he said casually as he turned on the oil lamp on your table.

You only nodded in response, looking at him with half wonder half suspicion. Why is he paying you a visit all of a sudden? "What..? Can't a husband visit his wife?" Satoru furrowed his brows, noticing your dimmly lit expression and sitting down on the edge of your bed.

"I'm happy you're here." You assured him. And you truly were.

"Right, of course you are." Satoru smirked boldly at you, but somehow, you could tell that he was relieved to hear it. He looked in front of him.

"I got you this." he said a little more quietly, handing you a book as you sat up in bed. But it wasn't just any book. "No way... how did you even get your hands on this?!" you blinked multiple times in the dim light, making sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

When you realised how loud you just were, you quickly covered your mouth, and Satoru laughed at you for a bit before saying "I have my ways."

"That... doesn't answer the question. How much did this even cost?"

"...You shouldn't worry so much."

That idiot... You took another look at the book in your lap, the rare book you were trying to get your hands on for 3 years at this point. You can't help but wonder if the emergency finance work you had to do today has something to do with this.

"...Why?" you looked back up at him.

"Why what?" he flashed his usual smile at you, his white lashes fluttering as he gazed at you. This all seems... odd.

"Why did you get this for me? Why would you spend so much money on me? How did you even know I wanted this? What are you trying to do... here..." your last question died off as you saw his expression slowly shift to one of concern.

"You're... my wife? And I happen to know you want this? What kind of questions even are those, seriously." he scoffed, shaking his head.

"But... Lady Ichikawa..." why would he spend money on you when he could be putting it towards his future with Lady Ichikawa? Wait, why did you even start assuming that he'll leave you any minute to begin with? Gosh...

"Oh, her? Wait... are you jealous?" he raised his eyebrows playfully, leaning back. "Not really, I just thought that you... like her more than me." it felt strange finally admitting this to him.

"Ehhh.... She's just a friend, ya know. And I actually mean it. Why would I like her more?" Satoru looked as unaffected as ever, smiling at you. But beneath that nonchalant attitude and those shining blue eyes of his, you could feel confusion, doubt, and something else.

"You said in your proposal t-that... So I thought Lady Ichikawa..." all the turmoil that had been building up inside you for the last three months finally let loose, with you trying your best to speak through your tears. Isn't this pathetic?

"Shhh, I know what I said back then. But now that I actually have you, I dunno anymore. I wanna try out this whole love thing." Satoru moved up on the bed, moving over to your side and gently petting your head.

"In other words, you can stop crying now. Because I'm not letting you go anytime soon."

i dont like this one all that much I'll be real, but then again when do I ever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this is actually based on a very specific manga plot, if you get it right I'll give you a gold star ⭐

[kingconia]

If you don't mind, can i request headcannon. Malleus play a mind game on female reader. Like malleus talk about a girl (which didn't even exist) she seem interesting and she also like him back he told reader in hope that reader get jealous and confess her feelings to him. But it backfired and reader was like "oh, congrats..." (Even though she felt hurt inside but decided to act mature and support). So at the end it was mess, as they argue, confess and cuddle...(you can make changes or do yan mal if you feel like. I hope you having a loney day/night)

A/N: I hope you are having a good time! Just as much as I hope that I delivered your idea properly.

•

Malleus Draconia was quite inexperienced when it came to romantic relationships—platonic as well—and that, indeed, was a common fact that everyone could gather simply by speaking with him at least once.

More to say, he was quite nervous about his feelings being mutual. As he wasn't so sure, he decided to ask an advice from people with experience. Some of ideas was ridiculous—Lilia told him to put you on the life and death situation, so, you could be honest with each other, and Azul Ashengrotto suggested him another of his ridiculous contracts—but in the end, Malleus's attention was caught by a quiet curious one.

That is how he found himself here, telling you a deceiving story of a girl, who caught his attention, and stole his heart.

”Oh,” you sighed, when he finished finally. ”From the sound of it, she is perfect.”

”I think the same,” Malleus nodded, determined. ”This woman is very special to me, and I really hope to ask her out soon.”

”Oh,” you repeated once again, tugging your hair slightly. ”That is nice, Malleus. I wish you a good luck.”

And that was it? Shouldn't be you jealous of him?

Malleus had been told—by the same person, who gave him this tip—that if anything helps lovers to be bluntly honest, it would be a simple jealousy. No one could control it, especially, in situation like this.

”Since you are my best friend,” Malleus tried again, ”I came to ask for your approval.”

”Do you want my blessing or something?” You scoffed at him.

”Perhaps, I do.”

Only a indifferent person would be fine with that.

”Oh, Malleus,” you grip his hand tightly, lips curling in smile. ”My only wish for you to be happy. So, of course, go and ask her out.”

He stared at you for a solid minute. Waiting. Waiting for you to show at least some kind of emotion. But it never came. Seemed, like you were really just his friend and nothing more.

Malleus smiled brokenly.

”Thank you, child of man. I appreciate that.”

That was just...

•

”...Unfair!” You tried to sob quieter, but these tries were useless, and so you just hid your face in your knees. ”I... I really thought he likes me, Grim. You know? I thought that we are... I thought he was flirting with me, and I thought my feelings were mutual, but...”

Grim sighed tiredly, pushing even more napkins in your hands.

You tried to be fine and contained about Malleus finding someone to himself—probably another pretty fae, who deserves to be his Queen—but failed miserably.

As soon as he left your company, after gaining some strange blessing from you, you simply stormed out from the Diasomnia dorm, ignoring Lilia's questions completely.

You wanted Malleus to be happy. You really did.

But... Ah, why couldn't he be happy with you?

Why couldn't he be happy with you?

Was it about immortality? Or wasn't you beautiful enough? Not smart? Was it about lacking magic?

You felt hopeless.

”Malleus is so cruel,” you chuckled. ”Asking all of this, making me hear all his lovingly stupid stories, and—”

"Wait, Y/n.”

’Not now, Grim. I just can't understand why he thought it is going to be a good idea.”

”And why it is not?”

You almost answered, but the voice died in your throat as you realised that it was not Grim's voice.

You raised your head slowly, glaring at your panicked little cat first, before turning around completely.

Fuck.

Malleus was standing right behind your couch.

”Oh, come on...”

As if this day couldn't be even worse.

”You know what,” Grim giggled nervously. ”I am out. Goodbye.”

You hissed in your hastily leaving familiar's back. What a traitor.

”So?” Malleus asked, leaning over the couch. ”Why it wasn't a good idea to share something good with you?”

His face wasn't showing any kind of emotions. He seemed slightly curious, and that was it.

Not willing to be hovered over, you stood up slowly.

”I... Malleus, listen...”

You didn't want to sadden him. You really didn't. But, ah...

You didn't want to lie him either. You know Malleus didn't like to be lied.

��I am listening.”

”Because...”

To be or not to be?

”Fine, because I like you, and... And I hate the idea of you, having a girlfriend. Yes, I am petty, yes, I am delusional for thinking that you were into me all this—”

He cut you through suddenly.

”You like me?”

A silence fell upon both of you, as his face turned out in a very confused one. His mouth was slightly open, eyes widened as you said something really confusing.

”...Of course, I do.”

”Why didn't you tell me it earlier?”

What he expected you to do? To play a role of envious wife, who keeps her man to herself solely? Right when he admitted something so important? And what would it change, even?

”What kind of person confesses in the middle of conversation like this?” You asked, genuinely frustrated by his obliviousness.

Malleus blinked.

”A jealous one?”

Was he mocking you?

”Yeah, I am aware of what I am, but I don't need you to be aware of that!”

Your patience finally ended, and you couldn't help but take a pillow from the couch, throwing it on him. Of course, he dodged it easily.

”I don't have anyone,” Malleus said suddenly.

”What—”

”I was taught that a jealousy would make you more honest, and therefore, if my feelings are, they would be returned,” he murmured, and you could feel how actually ashamed he seemed to be.

But even the redness of his cheek, couldn't save him from your rage.

Another pillow was taken, and this time, you hit him with mercilessly, not giving time to dodge that.

”Are you kidding with me?! I thought you don't like me!”

”Child of man, how could I not? I even described your appearance when I spoke about this woman...” Another hit. ”In fact, it was you, who seemed indifferent!”

Three more hits—two across the chest, and another on his face—and you stopped, breathing coming as hissing. Your eyes shut closed, and you threw pillow away, gripping the collar of his shirt, instead.

”Malleus. I really. Really. Like you,” your voice was loud and clear. ”But this idea of confession was just awful.”

You felt him relaxing. His cold hands were put on your cheeks, and his lips moved closer to your ear, brushing the tip of it slightly.

”I apologise, my love. I really do,” you shivered, but only pressed yourself closer to him. ”I must admit, my original plan of confession was completely different. I never planned to play with you like this.”

”Then why you did that?” You sighed, surrendering completely as your arms locked around his waist.

”Just as I said, it was a method that I was taught to.”

You frowned again.

”Who it was?”

”Hm?”

”Whose idea it was, to do this?”

”Oh... I think, it was Kingscholar.”

You gripped Malleus in the hug crushingly. Just as you thought that you calmed down...

”This fucking—”

[worriedvision]

Reality check - Tighnari

You're a forest ranger who's fallen head over heels for Tighnari, your boss. When he spots that look, he realises quickly what is happening. Gender neutral reader, angst.

--

You knew better than to fall for him of all people. Your boss, a man who didn't have time for you personally. He was a busy man with the forest, something near and dear to him.

But it didn't stop your heart from yearning. Thinking of being the one he could hold and hug, the one who he was vulnerable around, the one who had his heart. You daydreamed about him coming home, fed up with the idiots that are anything they felt like without the proper knowledge, and relaxing when he spots you there with a bowl of mushroom stew, a meal he loved. Especially yours.

Tighnari knew the look of yearning you had, it was a sight he didn't wish to see. The last thing he wanted was to lose a good forest ranger because of feelings he couldn't act on. He knew he had to call you in for a meeting alone, he knew the humiliation would be horrid if he roped anyone else in for this discussion.

--

"You are aware of the policy on relationships within the organisation, correct?" Tighnari asks, you nodding. "Well, I noticed you seem to daydream when I'm around."

You don't say a word, unsure what vibe you got was correct. You felt an ounce of him returning your feelings, but you also feel an ounce of rejection coming. The confirmed one would hit you like a truck. Which one, you didn't know yet.

"It is strictly against this policy to pursue a relationship within the workplace. The evidence lines up, this is not merely my personal opinion." Tighnari explains, looking right at you. "I do not feel romantic for you, and I'm sorry if this comes as a shock to you."

What an ass. Rubbing salt into the wound, sprinkling in the line that comes across as rude.

"I won't write you up for this, however this is your only warning." He finishes. "If you need time to-"

"Won't be necessary, Master." You spit out, standing up. "I let my feelings get in the way of my work, it won't happen again."

--

The next few weeks were, for the most part, not a problem for you. The only issue arose when people asked you what Tighnari was talking to you about. You saw how Tighnaris ear flicked towards you, waiting to hear your response, to which you say it was merely sorting out a discrepancy with your paperwork.

As much as Tighnari wants to deny it, a large part of why he confronted you about your actions was because he felt the same way for you. He had people in the past who liked him, confessed, and got politely rejected by him before getting back to normal after a while.

You, he couldn't bring to confess to him. He just knew he would break the rules he put in place, admitting he felt the same and starting something he knew he shouldn't. By rejecting you privately yet harshly, he told himself that he would move on.

Try as he might, he is unable to move on. After a while to think (well, Cyno explaining to him that as long as this doesn't get in the way of objectivity it wouldn't be an issue), he tries to ask you out.

"_, would you like to have dinner?" Tighnari asks, you turning around.

"...Who's coming?" You ask, Tighnari clearing his throat before continuing.

"Just the two-"

"No." You bluntly reply, Tighnari opening his mouth to explain himself. "You said it yourself, the evidence backs up your policy."

He goes to open his mouth, you walk away before he finally remembers what he was going to say.

'He doesn't feel the same way, you idiot. You need to move on,' you have to remind yourself with every step.

[dogboystory]

A/N: got high and wrote this, enjoy <3 Kind of a short one, IM BAD AT SPELLING I HAVENT DONE THIS IN A WHILE PLZ FORGIVE

TAGS: Dark! Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, Submissive Reader, Puppy Play, Kidnapped, Fear, Mean! Bucky, and Chasing.

DARK!BUCKY X READER

RUN, RABBIT.

Running for my life has never felt so exhilerating.

Maybe it's the way my pulse quickens like a rabbit, with the beat of a drum in my ears. It pushes me forward, deeper into the heart of the forest.

The forest I so desperately tried to avoid. But he's cornered me. He'd planned it all along, and I realise this far too late. He's outsmarted me.

Once again. That bastard.

As if he can hear me, he pays me retribution. My eyes dart to the left, with the sound of a full tree snapping in twain. They widen in terror, as I dart another direction. The shadow of the falling tree looms above me, and my breath catches in my throat when I trip. My ankle snaps under a wnarled root from the very tree that's about to land on top of me.

I slam into the dirt, only just registering the black mud patches formed from the pouring rain. The bitter cold seeps into my clothes.

The log never arrives.

"You put up a good fight, pup."

A whimper rips from my throat, and without opening my eyes, I pitifully cry in the mud.

That man, his damn voice.

His palms encase my biceps, as he lifts me onto the hastily thrown trunk. He had caught it, before it managed to crush me. He accomplished it with inhumane speed and agility.

It struck fear into my chest, like a needle of lighting.

My ankle throbs once he drags me into a sitting position. He swipes at the droplets on my face with a lighthearted, calculative smile.

"Silly puppy, huh?" He mumbles to himself, and it makes my stomach churn. I practically mewl and desperately try to claw myself away from him. He doesn't seem to care.

His metal hand clenches my jaw and directs my eyes to his; "Stupid fucking puppy thought she could get away, huh?" He starts to make himself angrier and angrier, "Where the fuck did she think she was gonna go, pretty girl?"

The tears continue to trail down my red and muddied cheeks, along with the pattering of rainfall. I shake my head in his steely grasp. "Please," I whisper, "please let me go."

I shouldn't have ran. Why did I think I could run?

The despair settles in my chest and elicits another wail from me. All the while, Bucky continues to think to himself. Silently, above me. Just watching the emotions process through my facial expressions.

And then his lip twitches upwards. That knowing look on his face. He knew this would happen, and he wanted it.

You sick fuck.

Without a word, Bucky's hand creeps over my abdomen. I hiss and throw my hips up to try and kick out, but it feels impossible. My thighs tremble beneath him, as he slowly leans over and cages me against the solid oak.

One last try, I think. Just plead with him one more time, and he might be gentle.

"Bucky," I whisper desperately, my terrified eyes seeking any form of forgiveness, "please. I'm sorry. I didn't..." I heave now, overcome with terror and suffocating from the lack of space, the panic clawing at my vision. "Please Bucky, I'm sorry."

He hushes me gently, then swiftly crouches with his leather combat boots tiptoed in the mud, still above me. Always above me.

"Shut the fuck up." He barks. I immediately follow order, swallowing heavily.

The silence stretches uncomfortably long. He loves doing this with me. Playing mind games. It's his ultimate goal, to break me. Psychically and mentally. He's fucking insane, and I don't even know if he knows that.

"I should drag you all the way back, just by your hair, huh pup?" Buck snarls, harshly.

I only bite my lip in response. There's nothing I can do now. I just have to submit and accept my fate.

"Maybe I should just leave you, lyin' face down in the mud." And with that, it begins.

His flesh hand slaps my cheek and sends me careening to the ground. He stands and rips my head up by my scalp, to which I screech pathetically. I hiccup and sob, but his hold is unrelenting. He resumes watching me, while stiffly holding the nape of my neck to his crotch. The jean scrapes against my lips uncomfortably, but I can't pull away. The smell of damp denim, and his overwhelmingly strong scent, somehow overpowers the unrelenting fear. It acts as a sedative.

The brain does funny things in traumatic situations.

"I thought of couple'a things I could do to you, while you were runnin', ya know?" In one motion, he lifts your pliable body over his shoulder, and begins walking. "I'm gonna light a fire when I get in and sear my fucking name onto you, pup. Show you what it really means to be mine. And I'm not just telling you for nothing. I want you to've fully accepted it by the time we get back. You better be on your damn knees, by my feet, and beggin' for me to fucking abuse you."