#and might be unable to walk tomorrow

[the-acid-pear]

Alright I'm going to sleep now but this was a fun night god bless that anon for delivering that on my doorstep very fucking epic. 👍

[anxious-anomaly]

[ 18+ blog || minors DNI ]

Drugs are so nice. The prescribed ones I have relaxed me to the point its almost like my (legal) edibles. So chill, so tired, so pliable - probably a lot more sensitive too now that head empty, thoughts null.

I really wanna have some fun when I'm like this. Take advantage of my lack of strength and pin me down, watch as I melt when you mark my neck with kisses, hickies, and bites. Grope at my chest and dick and listen as my breath stutters, silent exhales slowly turning to low moans.

Get me horny enough and I might start to get desperate for you to be inside. It'd feel so good to have a dick in that bonus hole, especially when mine is hard and craving company.

[ikyw-t]

I do relate to olivia rodrigo in some ways for example I did have nightmares each week (every day for months) after that phone call in may (march). I fantasize (once every other blue moon) about a time where you're a little fucking sorry. except I do not hold my undying love (there is not even an iota of love, if there ever was) like a grudge and also I will never ever forgive bc you were indeed filled with vitriol. and unfortunately I also cannot let it go. it was six months (three years) of torture. I did NOT love you truly and I cannot laugh at the stupidity. I may have made some real big mistakes but you do indeed make the worst one look fine. like..............

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[luvsupa]

“SHALL WE RESUME, MY LADY?”

tags: heianera!sukuna, trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, kissing, servants are bullies :(, BLOOD + KILLING, smut-ish (?), ANGST, readers called little one, my lady, my queen, sukuna lovessss reader but doesn’t wanna show it.

w.c: 1.8k

a/n:ITS BEEN LONG SINCE I WROTE PART 3 FOR SUKUNAAA, so pls read (part 1 + part 2) to understand this :p (or don’t 😔)

-part 1 was my first ever story so pls don’t mind the terrible writing 🤕

+ likes and reblogs are appreciative!!

for weeks now, since your intimate encounter with sukuna in his chambers, his words have echoed relentlessly in your mind:

“you belong to me, mind, body, and soul.”

unable to shake his haunting assertion, you find yourself lost in a fog during your duties, drawing the king’s scorn for your clumsiness—pathetic, he silently judges.

you’ve been desperately trying to avoid sukuna, feeling his ominous presence lurking near the servants’ quarters, dangerously close to your room. each night, you pretend to be asleep, hoping he won’t enter.

uraume and the other servants and concubines have noticed your distraction, their whispers and spiteful glances intensifying your growing distress.

just as you’re lost in your thoughts, walking towards the grand kitchen, you feel yourself being harshly pushed—nearly losing your balance. you turn to face the two brunettes who always accompany sukuna in his chambers.

“look at her,” one sneers, her voice dripping with contempt. “she looks even more pitiful than usual. you’d think she’d try harder, especially with tomorrow’s annual gift-giving ceremony.”

your heart drops, and you feel the blood drain from your face as the realization hits you—you had completely forgotten about it. shit.

the other brunette catches your expression and smirks, leaning closer.

“oh, you did not know?” she mocks, her eyes glinting with malicious pleasure. “did you truly forget? lost in your own little world? pathetic. do not think sukuna-sama has not noticed your incompetence. if i were you, i would be prepared to face his wrath tomorrow.”

before you can respond, the brunettes walk away, laughing cruelly amongst themselves. fear grips you as you stand there, contemplating the consequences of your forgetfulness. this time, he might seek to end my life.

sukuna spared your life once before, but now? you’ve truly done it.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

morning arrives, finding you sleepless and anxious, having spent the night wrestling with decisions on what gift would appease the king of curses. regret gnaws at you—you could have been better prepared.

if only you had listened to uraume’s instructions, you wouldn’t be scrambling now to please sukuna.

a loud groan escapes you, not just from lacking a suitable offering but from the impending threat of losing your life in front of everyone.

your thoughts shatter as your door creaks open. uraume enters, carrying a basket laden with ceremonial attire.

“sukuna-sama will return soon from his mission,” uraume states matter-of-factly, approaching your bedside and handing you the basket. your gaze fixes on the black and gold kimono. “in the meantime, prepare your gift for our king,” they remind you, prompting your heart to skip a beat. you nod gratefully as uraume exits the room.

you linger, captivated by the elegance of the wooden basket. slowly, an idea begins to take shape.

i hope this idea will work…

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you hurriedly slip into the black and gold kimono uraume handed you, the fabric draping elegantly over your curves as you smooth out its silk folds.

grabbing the basket, you rush out of your room, navigating through the crowded hallways filled with servants, concubines, and guards all preparing to present their gifts to the king.

anxiety grips you as the chatter rises, signaling the ceremony may have already begun. finally reaching the garden, you drop to your knees, swiftly gathering orchids, red camellias, and wisterias.

heart pounding, you carefully arrange the brightly coloured flowers in the basket, leaving space for more. glancing around the vast garden for inspiration, you freeze as you spot a familiar figure in the distance, surrounded by guards and soldiers.

shit.

your pulse quickens as sukuna approaches the estate. you force yourself to calm down, needing clarity to finish your task.

turning to the fruit garden, you ignore the dirt on your kimono as you hurriedly gather peaches, oranges, and pomegranates from the trees, arranging them neatly in the basket.

with your last-minute gift finally perfected, you hope he will at least appreciate the effort. as cheers and applause erupt, signaling sukuna’s arrival, you hasten back to join the line of gift-givers, heart still racing with fear.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

the ceremony unfolds in a chamber unfamiliar to you, far larger than sukuna’s usual domain, filled with hundreds and hundreds of servants seated on comfortable cushions, rows of expectant faces awaiting the ceremony’s commencement.

as you wait nervously, you glance around at the lavish offerings others have brought—paintings, gleaming gold jewelry, fine silk robes, ancient artifacts, perfumes, and oils. in contrast, your basket of fruits and flowers seems painfully simple.

whispers and snickers ripple through the crowd, directed at your low-value gift, almost insulting to the king, as the laughter grew louder and more pointed. the embarrassment increases, now overwhelming you.

“silence.”

his voice cuts through the room like thunder, instantly quieting the chatter as all heads bow. only you remain defiantly gazing at sukuna from his elevated throne. he looks magnificent, his towering frame draped in a dark cotton robe that accentuates his scarlet eyes—those unsettling eyes that draw you in despite your fear.

“do you consider yourself more worthy than others to not bow?”

his voice pierces through you, shocking you out of your thoughts. you hadn’t realized you were staring at him so openly. a nearby servant nudges your head down forcefully, a silent command to acknowledge sukuna’s authority.

uraume then signals the first row to approach sukuna with their gifts. as he settles into his throne, one of his lower eye fixates on you with a chilling intensity, reminding you of the difference of ground upon which you stand.

the two brunettes, who supposedly despised you, were the first to present their gifts. all eyes watched as they offered lavish amounts of gold and diamonds to sukuna. you couldn’t help but notice the satisfaction that spread across his face, a subtle amusement evident as he casually placed the gift with one of lower arms behind him.

they took their places on either side of his throne, making way for the next in line. as the line shortened, your turn approached rapidly.

you watched with nervous anticipation as sukuna accepted one of the servants gifts— the beautifully sculpted artifacts and golden treasures—

slash!

the servant’s head was cleanly severed, a loud thud echoing through the room. gasps filled the air as the shock spread through the assembled crowd. some of the seasoned servants were used to sukuna’s impulsive acts, but this was the first time you had witnessed such brutality. blood splattered across his face, yet he remained unfazed, awaiting the next offerings.

you covered your mouth, stifling a scream of horror. the fear of becoming the next victim intensified as you compared your gift to the high valued gift he had just received.

how could he appreciate your offering if he did not enjoy the artifacts?

you were on edge, continuously hearing numerous slash and thuds that kept racing your heart. his gaze seemed to linger on you, intensifying your dread.

unaware that it was your turn next, you suddenly found yourself on the elevated floor, your gift clearly visible to all below. laughter erupted among the watching servants, their anticipation of your downfall.

you felt all four of his eyes fixated on you, observing your trembling form, your eyes flickering nervously as you struggled to stay composed. stepping cautiously over a puddle of blood, you nervously approached his throne.

with trembling hands, you presented the basket of flowers and fruits. below, the two brunettes knelt, their mocking laughter ringing in your ears.

sukuna silently observed the basket, his large hands delicately holding the tiny fruits. he plucked out peaches, pomegranates, and oranges with two hands while the other two hands carefully examined the flowers, bringing them to his nose to inhale their earthly fragrance. then, to your surprise, sukuna’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“little one,” he said in a low velvety voice that sent shivers down your spine. “you surprise me.” 

the crowd exchanged puzzled glances, uncertain of how to interpret sukuna’s unexpected reaction. the two kneeling servants looked up at sukuna in disbelief, their faces turning pale as they realized their own gifts, despite their value, had not elicited such a response.

sukuna carefully placed everything back into the basket, then lifted a ripe peach to his lips. his intense gaze locked onto yours as he took a deliberate bite, savouring the sweetness. loudly humming at the sweet taste.

unexpectedly, two of sukuna’s free hands reached out and gently grabbed your waist. you squealed in surprise at the sudden contact as sukuna swiftly spun you around, placing you on his lap with your back is against his chest. his third hand delicately tilted your chin, looking up towards him.

“‘kuna…” you began, mindlessly calling him by a forbidden nickname. but his lips cut off your words in a hungry kiss. the taste of peach lingered on his lips, blending with the sweet intensity of the moment. his kiss was fierce, brimming with a raw passion.

sukuna’s large hand snakes up to the crevice of your neck, and to your surprise, another mouth formed on his hand, trailing down to suck and kiss a sensitive spot on your neck. a soft moan escaped your lips, muffled by his kiss, and he grinned at your reaction.

the brunettes stared up at the two of you with utter jealousy, never having received such intimacy from their king. the entire room gaped in shock; they had never witnessed the king of curses succumb so readily to a mere servant.

sukuna then pulls away, leaving you dizzy from the closeness. his presence seems to envelop you, making you feel intoxicated by his mere touch. with a gentle touch, sukuna adjusts your slouched posture, his hands holding you firmly against his broad chest. leaning down, he kisses your ear softly.

“you will judge which gift is worthy,” he begins, his closeness making your head spin even more. “if anything displeases you, I will take care of it,” he murmurs, hinting at even more slashes. another hand snaking up to your neck, softly applying pressure to restore your stability.

if anything you feel a rush of arousal.

“i will obey your every command, my queen. i am yours to command,” he declares softly, causing you to whimper in response. gasps fill the room as they witness the king of curses submitting himself to you.

“shall we resume, my lady?”

[215-luv]

HQ AS YOUR TYPICAL HIGHSCHOOL BOYS WHO HAS A CRUSH ON YOU

KAGEYAMA: a shy guy who needs the mental support of the whole volleyball team just so he could initiate a conversation with you. whenever you’re in the same room as him he just suddenly finds himself all stiff and unable to function properly. the amount of times where he catches glimpses of you is hilarious because he couldn’t speak a damn word to you no matter how much he wants to.

OIKAWA: to him, there’s something romantic about surprising you by leaving gifts on your desk and locker and there isn’t one day where he forgets to do that, no matter what the occasion is. during huge events such as Christmas, valentines day, you name it — he has everything planned out just for you. he’s actually good at being romantic and he knows that to himself. he’s spoiled you so much and he’s just at the peak of having a crush on you, what more if he’s in a relationship with you.

USHIJIMA: he’s the definition of actions over words. ushijima doesn’t talk much, but his intentions reflect clearly through his actions. one day, he offers to carry your things for you. another day, he offers you his sweater because he hears you complaining how cold the weather is — and that nearly scared the shit out of you because you’re literally at the other end of the classroom?? whenever you’re walking through the stairs, he’ll offer you his hand for support. if he notices your discomfort in a big crowd, he’ll use his body to support you incase someone might bump onto you while using his arm to support your lower back.

HINATA: he’ll always greet you with a ‘good morning y/n! :D’ or a ‘hi y/n! what a lovely morning, is it? how are you doing!’ with a smile on his face every morning before class starts and it goes the same when it’s time to go home ‘cause he always makes sure to see you at the beginning and at the end of his day. he’s so sweet because although he couldn’t bring you home due to volleyball practice, he’ll tell you, ‘have a safe trip home y/n!’ or ‘i’ll see you tomorrow y/n! make sure to send me a text when you’re home, kay!’

TSUKISHIMA: he still sends snappy remarks to you, but the difference between the way he is to others compared to you is detectable. very. so much so that everytime tsukki interacts with you, kageyama looks at him as if he’s possessed. his feelings for you comes out in a different way, but the soft glint from the way he gazes at you reflects his true intentions — because at one point he hears you complaining how you’re having a hard time at a certain subject, and suddenly he drops a whole ass notebook infront of you, all containing his notes of the lesson. he raises an eyebrow at the confused look you’re giving him, “why are you looking at me like that? we don’t want you failing with your empty head, don’t we?” he says with a snicker,,, and a slight blush on his cheeks.

KUROO: he doesn’t hide the fact that he has a crush on you. it doesn’t surprise you with the fact that he’s already leaning against the door frame of your classroom after classes has ended. he also isn’t shy with the fact that he’s sending you winks from across the cafeteria or hallways (he knows you like it). passing by him through the school hallway, at that short moment, he sends you a glance, a cheshire smile on his face as he greets you with a ‘hey pretty’ before passing by you as if he didn’t do shit at all.

AKAASHI: he’s so attentive when it comes to you. he’ll open doors for you and let you enter or leave the room first before he does. everyone is actually close to having no clue whether he has a crush on you or not ‘cause he’s naturally polite in general —but the thing is, his gaze on you is so loving??? it’s not the kind of look he’s ever given to anyone at all & i’m pretty sure the volleyball team has caught up with his intentions towards you. it doesn’t take long until they’re being ridiculously loud at teasing akaashi about it especially when they keep catching him looking at you with that gaze again.

[nonushu]

hugs in secret - yoon jeonghan

genre: fluff, secret relationship | wc: 670 | warnings: mentions of being drunk? | secret bf!jeonghan x reader a/n: i love long-haired jeonghan BUT short-haired jeonghan... oh my lord... this is also a bit rushed, hopefully, it's not too noticeable!

whoever gave soonyoung the mic, he sure as hell isn't singing. instead, he's shouting at seungkwan through the booming speakers for whatever reason that there may be—most likely about something petty.

if you were drunk too, you'd be just as indulged as they were. but someone is making it hard to even care what's going on in the karaoke room. and if anyone else in the room was sober, they'd be able to see the literal hearts in his eyes.

jeonghan sits across from you, grinning as the lively scene of the two other men unfolds. no matter how much you motion for him to stop looking at you like he is, his stare somehow makes you feel more shy.

of course, jeonghan knows exactly what he's doing. he doesn't miss the subtle nervousness you try to hide from the others—if anything, he's enjoying the thrill of anyone who could become suspecting of the two of you.

you can feel his eyes on you as you get up when you decide it's time to leave. you take a breath before walking over to the food bar where you pack some leftovers for the next day.

jeonghan raises his brow at your sudden leave, rising from his seat to follow from behind.

"leaving so soon?" his voice soft, almost teasing.

you glance over your shoulder, snapping the lid on the container. "well, i have to go in early tomorrow. can't be too exhausted."

"but you're gonna miss the most memorable part of this," he chuckles, referring to soonyoung and seungkwan dispute.

you scoff, shaking your head. "and then, i'll miss my hearing if i stay any longer,"

jeonghan's lips crack a smile as he leans in closer to you. his hands find their way to the small of your back. he pulls you gently towards him in a comforting manner but enough to make your breath hitch.

"jeonghan," you whisper, eyes darting around the room but doing nothing to stop him. "someone might see..."

but you know no one's paying attention to what you and jeonghan are doing, yet the thought of confrontation at the moment did not sound fun while everyone was wasted.

"you're really gonna leave me?" he pouts, putting his chin on your shoulder. "leave me here with our drunk friends?"

your eyes sided at jeonghan. "you can leave too, hannie,"

"well, someone has to drive them home," he whines, nuzzling closer.

you roll your eyes, unable to stop the smile that tugs at your lips. "well, aren't you such a good friend?"

"yeah..." he mumbles, arms now fully wrapped around you. "am i able to see you after work, though?"

you tilt your head to look up at jeonghan, returning the hug. "could you come over to my place as well?"

jeonghan's grin is boyish, his eyes lighting up. "it'd be my pleasure, angel,"

you sort of cringed at the nickname, but regardless, you loved it when he called you such. removing yourself from his arms, you head to the exit while giving him a playful smile. "see you then, jeonghan,"

before stepping out of the room, you feel a grip on your arm, slightly pulling you back. jeonghan stops you from exiting completely, still wanting you to stay with him longer.

with a low voice, he bends down to your level. "just one more hug before you leave?" his eyes are begging. "please?"

now you grin at jeonghan. "clingy, much?" but you embrace him anyway, hugging him closely.

his tone becomes sassy, yet he gives in. "yeah, well, you make it impossible to not be,"

the moment couldn't feel more perfect, but soonyoung's voice cuts through the air—through the very loud speakers, startling the both of you. "group hug!"

before you know it, soonyoung has his arms wrapped around the two of you, squeezing your bodies tight. you couldn't help but laugh while being squashed between the two men. jeonghan groans at him, but his grip on you doesn't loosen.

jeonghan must really love hugging you, you figured.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Never Grow Up-T.V.

Alessia Russo x Reader x daughter

Warnings: haven’t written anything in a while so if it’s terrible writing please bear with me as I get my head back into it. Not everyone’s experience with anxiety is the same this is mine, the feelings I get so it might not match with yours . Anyway enjoy

���I’m pregnant”

She’s pregnant, Alessia’s pregnant, your wife is pregnant.

This is what you wanted, what you both wanted, so why do you feel a sinking feeling in your stomach, why has a knot formed in your chest.

This is what you wanted, all you have ever wanted, a family with Alessia, yet you feel a sense of impending doom, failure even as your wife looks at you with tears spilling softly down her rose tinted cheeks. Happy tears. Alessia’s happy, over the moon even. But all you feel is anxiety, nerves, impending doom.

You plaster on a smile and pull her into you as tightly as you can whispering how much you love her, how excited you are, how you can’t wait to meet them.

You tell your families fourteen weeks later, just as a small bump begins to form and you stand back and watch as Alessia’s family jump from where they are sitting, her brothers get to her first both wrapping her in a hug, just the three of them, then her sister in law Lauren, and finally her parents. You don’t move though, you can’t that feeling of impending doom, of failure seeps back into your bones like an old friend, you move on autopilot as Alessia’s family move from her to you. You don’t hear them as they spout their congratulations to you, yet you answer with quite thank yous, autopilot stays in complete control even as Alessia moves to you wrapping her arms tightly around, squeezing you her excitement, relief radiating from her like the sun.

You don’t tell anyone else she’s pregnant, Alessia tells everyone, she tells your friends, your band, your team, her friends, her teams. She can tell there is something wrong but she puts it down to the pressure of trying to finish a tour while she’s pregnant, that your worried about her and bump and so she tries to calm your woes by updating you on every little thing.

“Bump is the size of a peach”

“Bump is the size of an Avocado”

“Bumps the size of a Banana”

“It’s my twenty week scan tomorrow baby, you’re still able to come aren’t you, they can tell if bump is a boy or a girl.”

You hadn’t been to a scan since the ten week check up, you had tried, really you had but with the tour and that sense of impending doom you had been unable, you couldn’t miss this one, not the halfway mark, it would be unfair to Alessia, to bump. So you go.

You hold her hand the entire way to the hospital, you squeeze it tighter as you walk the halls of the hospital, so tight that Alessia looks at you her eyebrows pushed together, worry etched across her face.

“Do you wish to know the sex of the baby.”

You watch as Alessia adjusts herself on the bed, as she tells the radiographer no, that it’s a surprise.

As the image of bump comes on the screen you grab Alessia’s hand, as the heart beat, bumps heart beat sounds through the speakers you welcome in that old friend anxiety, you don’t welcome it really, you hate it, you hate feeling this way, the sense of impending doom, of failure running through you.

You feel sick as your eyes flick between Alessia and the baby on the screen, your baby.

Autopilot mode kicks in shortly after and you spend the rest of the day floating around on it. You feel terrible, both with this constant feeling weighing you down as well as the feeling and thoughts of letting Alessia down, of disappearing and going on tour, of disappointing her throughout her pregnancy and in the future when you officially become a mum.

Alessia doesn’t know what to do, your there but your not there and it’s been like this for months, but you won’t talk to her, if you just talked to her she could put your mind at ease she knows she could.

You finish your tour a month before Alessia’s due date, you arrive home and although you had been popping in and out through it all you feel as though you have missed so much.

“Bump is the size of cos lettuce.”

“Bump definitely takes after me, definitely a striker in the future.”

“Bump has lungs now, baby I made lungs, that’s so crazy.”

“Do you want to feel Bump kick”

That feeling doesn’t leave you for the remaining month of Alessia’s pregnancy, you can’t tell her, she is to excited, she will think your being silly, but you have to talk to someone, that’s how you find yourself outside the Russo family home, your mother in law looking at you face etched with worry.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t know what else to do. I-I’m so lost.”

You blink as you realise you’re sitting in the Russo’s kitchen, cup of tea in-front of you as both of your in-laws look at you concerned.

“What’s going on darling.”

“I-I’m failing Alessia.”

“I-I’m failing Bump.”

Carol grabs your hand, “oh darling you haven’t failed anyone, what’s going on.”

You want to tell them you do, you want their help but you can’t help but think about the disappointed look on Alessia’s face when you get home and she sees you went to her parents instead of her.

“I’m sorry I-I have to go…I really am sorry I wasted your time.”

Your home before you feel like you have even taken a chance to breathe.

“Y/n”

Alessia’s knocking on your car window, wrapped in your jacket, she’s still shaking slightly, you can’t let her freeze out here, you can’t let Bump freeze and so your out of the car arms wrapped around Alessia as you pull her inside.

“Y/n.”

“Y/n what’s going on.”

Your back is turned as you make the both of you a hot chocolate, but Alessia can see the knot forming in your shoulders, the tension.

“How do you know you’re going to be able to do this, that you’re going to be a good mum.”

Alessia’s eyes soften immediately her hands going to rub her bump in comfort.

“I don’t, I have no idea what’s going to happen when Bump gets here but I know I’m going to try my best, that you are going to try your best and together we are going to do everything we can to raise Bump the best we can.”

“I-I went to your parent’s house, I-I left shortly after because I didn’t want you to feel like disappointed or sad in yourself for me not being able to talk to you but I feel like a failure.”

Alessia moves around the kitchen island so she’s standing on the same side as you but doesn’t close the gap to you, you need your space right now and she knows that, of course she does.

“I understand baby, I do. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who isn’t me but thank you for telling me how you feel. But I need you to explain to me why you feel this way, why do you feel like a failure?”

You don’t look at her, your eyes drop from her hands tracing circles on Bump to the floor.

“I-I don’t, I have this feeling, the feeling like a knot in my chest and my stomach drops and I get this sense of impending doom, of failure and it’s been with me since you told me you were pregnant.”

“Y/n”

“I want this, I have wanted this forever, with you forever but I just, you told me and this feeling creeped in and I can’t shake it, but I need you to know I want this.”

Alessia steps forward now grabbing your face softly between her hands.

“I never doubted you wanting this, not once but I did notice you going quite on me and I can only help when you tell me, I’m scared too trust me but we are a team, we will face this together.”

Alessia’s words settle you slightly but still that feeling follows you, it follows you the entire way to the birth of your daughter.

“It’s a girl.”

A girl, you have a daughter, a baby girl.

“Amelia”

“Amelia Mariona Russo”

She was here and she was perfect so perfect you were scared to hold her.

“You won’t break her.”

The nurse tries to get you to sit down, your t-shirt off for skin to skin but you can’t, you don’t want to break her.

Alessia shuffles on the bed and pulls you into her so you’re sitting on the bed with her, she pulls your t-shirt off and nods to the nurse as she brings your daughter over, she’s resting on your chest before you can blink and your hands shake as you try to figure out what to do, how to hold her.

“Just lie back with me and relax.”

You do, you lie beside Alessia for an hour before the nurse comes back in and takes her away for her checks.

Alessia falls asleep and you feel lost so you decide to go for a walk, head to the gift shop, you’re proud of yourself, you held your daughter, you didn’t break her.

But that comes crashing down as you come up to the nurses station.

“Her wife is incompetent, honestly I feel so sorry for her she had to move over on her bed to get her wife to hold their daughter, like come on the girl just gave birth and had to baby her own wife.”

You are failing.

The Russo’s arrive a short while later, you hand Luca the ballon’s you had gotten your girls as you sit outside the room, your failing.

You can’t fail, Alessia’s to good for you to fail, Amelia is to perfect for you to fail.

Alessia and Amelia are kept only for one more day, you stand in the corner out of the way as you watch the nurse talk to Alessia, explaining things to her, telling her if she needs anyone to call her, even she knows you failing, that your a failure.

You carry Amelia out along with all the bags, it’s the least you can do you think, Alessia has done so much, will do so much. You drive home the slowest Alessia has ever seen you drive and she can’t help but add it to the tally of things you do, are doing to be a good mum.

There is a pile of books on the kitchen counter, books about baby’s, about raising baby’s, kids, teenagers.

“What are these.”

You set Amelia’s baby carrier on the counter, pushing it in incase she rocks it so it doesn’t fall off the counter.

She’s two days old, she hasn’t opened her eyes for more than an hour, she can’t rock a baby carrier, but you can’t help it.

“Books, for-for me I-i want to be perfect for her,for you and these can help-I heard the nurses say these can help.”

She’s here but the feeling doesn’t leave, the feeling of impending doom, of failure, of anxiety.

You help as best you can, as best you can while barely holding her.

She doesn’t sleep well, you get up every time, you hold her then, you try to settle her by yourself, prove to yourself, to her, to Alessia that you can do this, you do everything those stupid books tell you you should do to get her to settle but nothing works. You find yourself waking up your exhausted wife, Alessia, every night.

“I’m-I-she won’t settle, I’ve tried everything but she-she won’t settle.”

“I-I don’t know what to do, I-I’m so sorry I know I should know what to do but I-please help.”

Alessia is patient, so patient with you and you don’t know why.

Your trying, your trying so hard and she loves that about you, that you wake up at all hours of the night trying to do everything to make your daughter happy, to settle but it’s a hard job, but she is happy to help every time because you try, your trying.

It takes Alessia all of five minutes to get her to settle and back to sleep and you can’t help but feel yourself sinking more and more.

Weeks pass and every night is the same, every night you try and try and try and every night you fail, again and again.

Your not there when the nurse calls in, after the first visit where the nurse sent you to make her and Alessia tea and brought Alessia and Amelia into the living room before you had even made your own you took that as a hint, the nurse ones you were a failure, she didn’t want to waist her breath on you, Alessia knew what she was doing. So you make a habit out of not being there that is until you have to go to the hospital for Amelia’s six week check up.

Amelia turns six weeks in a blink of an eye and you’re back at the hospital to make sure she’s still perfect. Of course she’s still perfect.

“How are you today Mrs Russo.”

Alessia holds your hand as you hold Amelia in the other, you’re holding her more often now.

“I’m good, we are good.”

“I can see someone is finally stepping into their role.”

Alessia feels you tense, she hates this, she hates the way the nurse treats you, as if you’re just a little blip in her and Amelia’s life.

“What do you mean.”

The nurse looks taken aback.

She answers but you don’t hear her, you look down at the baby sitting in your lap as you take in her face, she looks just like Alessia, she’s perfect and you’re still failing.

Everyone can see that.

You don’t remember anything else happening but Alessia pulling you out of the seat and walking to the door, you don’t hear her shouting at the nurse for being so rude, for not understanding.

Your not failing, your learning how to swim and sometimes when you start to get to the deep end you panic a little but it’s getting easier to just keep going, Alessia can see that, she can feel that.

You hold Amelia more, you don’t wake her up in the night to help settle her as much anymore, she can see it, everyone can see it but you.

Amelia has these big blue eyes, you’ve read somewhere that they will change colour in a few months but you hope they don’t, she has the most perfect big blue eyes, Alessia has seen them but never noticed how they constantly search for you until now.

Now at four o’clock in the morning as Amelia won’t settle and Alessia is getting restless not feeling you beside her that she wanders the house in search of you both, only to stumble into your studio.

Your playing guitar, chords she hasn’t heard you play before, Amelia perched on top of the instruments body head turned looking straight at you her big blue eyes watching your every facial feature as she smiles.

She’s smiling

Oh my god she’s smiling, actually smiling for the first time and it’s for you, because of you.

You don’t take your eyes off her as you hum the melody and play the chords.

You don’t take your eyes off of her as you begin to sing a song you’ve written just for her.

Alessia can’t take her eyes off you both as you continue to sing, your perfect, your both perfect, so perfect.

You aren’t a failure, you are still struggling through the water but you’re slowly learning to float, to swim and she can see that in the way your shoulders are so relaxed singing to your daughter.

You are a complete different Y/n than the one who stood crying in the kitchen a month ago, worrying about letting her down, about letting Amelia down.

This is it she thinks, you ever feel like that again, where the anxiety is so bad you have this feeling of impending doom over you, seeping into your bones, she’ll remind you of this, the moment you made your daughter smile, you settled her, all while writing a song for her.

You’re perfect, Amelia is perfect, Alessia is perfect, this little family you have created is perfect.

[drak3n]

VETERINARIAN!SATORU

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, angst, hurt & comfort, loss of a pet, poisoning, smut, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy and children, dad!gojo, this one’s kinda sad but it ends well i promise!!

sena’s note: i was torn between dentist or vet!gojo and then i was like… all animal-loving men can get it and so can gojo.

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ VET!SATORU who had studied and graduated abroad, having finished his studies with excellent grades and a bright future ahead of him

➩ VET!SATORU who had a hell lot of patients, and who was aware that over half of them were pets owned by ladies yearning to see the attractive young doc in scrubs, which he couldn’t blame them for

➩ VET!SATORU who never rejected new patients even when his assistants complained multiple times about how overbooked the calendar always was, because to him, all that mattered was to nurse all furry little babies back to health

➩ VET!SATORU who was about to close the clinic one evening, his assistants all having left long ago, just to hear the sounds of faint footsteps rushing to approach the clinic

“please, please help him! i— he’s been poisoned, i couldn’t—”

your sobs were cut off by satoru immediately unlocking the door he had locked seconds ago, and he tenderly took the faint cocker spaniel from your shaking arms. he was barely breathing, and foaming at the mouth.

“miss, try to calm down,” he told you calmly, pointing at one of the chairs in the treatment room when he saw how distraught you were. he would love to cheer you up right now, but time was critical. very much so. “please sit down. i’ll do anything i can.”

you mumbled prayers under your breath as you watched satoru checking your baby’s vitals, injecting apomorphine intravenously to induce vomiting. but it was too late.

➩ VET!SATORU who spent the next few hours in the clinic, watching you break down over your best friend’s loss as you fondled and kissed him, unable to let go; who despite loving his profession so dearly, couldn’t help but loathe it at times like these

➩ VET!SATORU who felt incredibly guilty watching you leave with the unmoving body of your senior dog’s in your arms after you told him you’d be burying him in your parents’ house garden

➩ VET!SATORU who couldn’t really sleep after that, his mind occupied with the images of you desperately trying to save your pawed friend and who grieved the loss of a companion from your teenage years

➩ VET!SATORU who took in two puppies who had been left in a box in front of the clinic, both pretty shades of brown, one of which had the same slightly curled fur as the dog that had slipped from his fingers and he had failed to save

➩ VET!SATORU who walked into the clinic one morning, greeting all waiting patients and their owners enthusiastically, just to pause when he sighted you standing at the counter

➩ VET!SATORU who called you inside first and watched through shaded glasses as you handed him a bag, your eyes dampening when you stared at the table your dog had taken his last breath on

“i forgot to thank you for your services and how you tried everything to save him,” you said softly, voice wavering, “i will pay for it before leaving, i just wanted to give you this.” he swiftly shook his head no, hesitantly accepting the bag to take a look inside. it was a box of chocolates and a bag of dog treats.

“these were his favorites,” you pointed out, chuckling nostalgically, “used to gobble them up like there was no tomorrow. i figured that the other girls and boys who come here might want to try what my boy loved.”

➩ VET!SATORU who excused himself for a second and returned with two tiny pups in his arms who wagged their tails at the charming young man, watching the way your eyes lit up at both of them

“some vile person just abandoned them in front of the clinic. they resemble your baby, don’t you think? i was going to keep both because i never give any animal away, but if you—”

“yes, absolutely!”

you carefully accepted one of the pups, cooing softly when it yipped and snuggled into your touch. satoru just smiled when you then stared at the other pup, seeing the obvious resemblance between them.

“i wouldn’t want to seperate them, though.”

he fell in love with you at that very moment.

“this little, handsome buddy is welcome to come and visit his lovely sister anytime.” he was happy that he finally got to see you smile and laugh.

➩ VET!SATORU who knew that you were the one when he saw you tending to your new pup with the utmost care, always eager to learn more about how how to handle and raise a puppy correctly

➩ VET!SATORU who already had a little family with you, because was there anything more intimate and sweet than having pets together? — but who couldn’t help but wish to have children with you as well

➩ VET!SATORU who was thrilled to find out the feeling was mutual

“wha— you’re off the pill?”

satoru was in the middle of fucking into you skillfully when you confessed it to him. you whimpered at his sudden lack of movement, nodding bashfully. “i know this is not the right time, but—,” you babbled, taking his hand to guide it to your lower belly, “‘m ready, satoru.”

his mind wandered to you swollen with your beautiful kids, tits leaking with your nourishing, sweet milk and face gifted with a natural pregnancy glow — not that you needed it.

“cum inside, ‘toru,” you whined against the pretty veterinarian’s kisses in-between his hips snapping against yours, “make me a mommy. gimme all of it.”

there was no way in hell that satoru wasn’t going to knock you up after this. and put a pretty little ring on your finger, of course.

➩ VET!SATORU who knew he had all he wanted as he saw you walk into the clinic a year later to visit your husband with your tiny babygirl on your arm, a spitting image of her father, and your two former pups on a leash, now grown in size as they wagged their tails wildly upon seeing the tall man in scrubs

➩ VET!SATORU who wondered if you’d say yes to a second child…

[sixosix]

PLASTIC FLOWERS | LYNEY

i. summary the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader

ii. tags 1.8k words, fluff, reader is a little slow but hey that’s what 9-to-5 does to someone, pining lyney, awkward flirting, and a lot of wilted flowers im sorry…

You’ve heard of Lyney and Lynette in passing before. You might’ve rushed past one of their street performances once or twice, or maybe you stumbled upon flyers promoting their grand shows fluttering past. However, today, they are the center of every discussion, particularly Lyney, from your gushing coworkers. They swoon about how charming the young man was to them, and how exceptionally talented twins are.

You start to feel a little left out. You want to witness what all the excitement is all about, too. Your nine-to-five has you rushing back and forth the streets of Fontaine like there’s no tomorrow—and to your defense, with all the rumors and prophecies floating around, it might as well be that case.

Afternoon. Nearly evening. Your legs feel like water, liquid, and unable to keep themselves upright. You’re like a zombie walking back to your humble abode, drained of human life from too much human interaction.

A round of applause has you slowing your steps, your attention pulled towards a small crowd as if struck by a magnetic force.

A young man stands at the center, grinning devilishly as the crowd once again erupts into gasps of awe. He clutches a deck of cards in his hand, the classic image of what comes to mind when you think of magicians. Yet, you find yourself unable to move. It might be your water-legs; it might be how the man has everyone spellbound.

“Thank you, everyone!” he says, and the spell is broken at once. Was it a spell? It felt like one. “Be sure to come next week to Lynette and I’s performance at the Opera Epiclese, alright?” So he is Lyney.

Witnessing his elegance and heart-stealing smirk, you at least now know that your coworkers were certainly telling the truth.

The crowd filters out one by one. You do the same, wondering how much the tickets would cost. Hopefully no more than your usual dinner; that would mean you’d have to eat frozen bread for an entire evening.

“Wait, wait!”

You turn at the frantic exclamation, startled when Lyney is looking directly at you and rushing toward you. Panicked, you quickly scan your surroundings, only to find that there’s no one else he could possibly be referring to.

Just you.

“Hello,” you murmur begrudgingly once he’s at a close distance.

“Hi,” he says back, a little breathless. “You missed the show earlier.”

“I—I did.” Is he seriously talking to you? “But don’t worry! I saw enough. It was really cool!” Really? It was really cool?

He relaxes, his smile turning pleased. Lyney’s gaze feels heavy when you’re the only one holding onto it. “That’s a shame. I’ve seen you around before, zipping through. I won’t let you slip through my fingers this time around.”

His voice is smooth. You find yourself liking the lilac of his eyes.

At your stunned silence, Lyney continues, “Here, watch my hand closely, alright?”

You nod obediently, mostly to conceal how flustered his presence is making you feel. It feels as if his voice is right beside your ears, or it might just be how it seems like the world quiets down for this moment.

He closes his palm. You hear him huff a sweet laugh. You get distracted and glance up, though it seems it was a mistake. He grins at you knowingly, eyes twinkling—his stupid, dark eyes. You look back down, and a flower has magically appeared square on his palm.

It’s a flower you’re unfamiliar with, but it’s beautiful and smells sweet so you find yourself uncaring of whatever it could mean.

He stares patiently.

You blink, dumb-struck. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says with a dazzling grin.

“Oh, thank you, but I— I really don’t know how to take care of these things, and I’m so busy, I don’t know if I should—”

You reject it. Which, in hindsight, was most rude.

Lyney tilts his head, smiling like you’re some cute cat he found passing by—and that gaze has your words dying on your tongue. “I’m not giving it to you for you to feel burdened with the responsibility of taking care of it. Trust me, I just want you to have it.”

You look at him, uncertainty flashing in your expression. “You don’t want to give it to someone else…?”

“Why would I? I saved this one especially for you,” the sweet talker says.

You highly doubt his words, but it’s nice to hear nevertheless. With a bashful smile, you take the flower and vow to yourself to take care of it as much as you can. It’s the only flower you’ve received your entire life.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He lights up impossibly, standing out so easily against the crowd. Just like that, you’re captivated.

The next day, Lyney reappears in your life. You're beginning to suspect that his hat conceals an infinite stockpile of these roses, and maybe that's the true magic: the enigma of Lyney's never-ending supply.

This time around, he’s loitering the streets without plans for any performances, however small. Though, he still entertains you in different ways.

“My work’s not too nice,” you tell him when he asks why you look tired, all too aware of your sore feet and cheeks from straining smiles all day. “I don’t know how you performers do it non-stop. I feel like I could just sleep on this sidewalk.”

“It might be helping that I love doing what I do,” Lyney supplies after a thoughtful hum. It’s still a little surreal having the man printed in posters and pictures all over The Steambird is now casually walking alongside you, but it’s nice. You feel your world has just brightened up a little—the new change of pace painting over the dull back and forth you’ve been living through for a while.

“Hey,” Lyney starts, as your eyes flick up from the ground to him. He’s holding another flower.

You smile as you gingerly take it from his fingers, skin brushing against his glove-free hands. “You’re helping the flower shops thrive, that’s for sure.”

“What can I say? I’m wonderful like that.”

You laugh, but it quickly dies down when you catch a glimpse of how Lyney is staring at you so openly with a bit of awe.

You clear your throat, looking away.

Lyney does the same as you find your face heating up. “Sorry.”

“Um,” scrambling for a change of topic, you say, “Are you trying to get me to watch the show you and your sister are holding next week?”

“What?” Lyney blinks, caught off guard. He smiles lopsidedly as you await for an answer. “No, I’m talking to you because I like you. And here I thought I was making myself obvious.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit slow,” you say, in a daze at his blunt confession.

That was nothing (that has to be). That was probably just your imagination, honestly—fantasizing about a handsome face, a small braid, and a mischievous grin. And you definitely don’t find yourself lying awake at night thinking about it.

As always, Lyney comes with a flower in hand. And you find out that he wasn’t lying when he said he saves a special flower for you.

You’re not sure how it seamlessly became a routine with him. At times, you wonder if he’s actually keeping track of the roses if you haven’t been throwing them to the trash. You wouldn't be able to deny it; you eventually would have to discard a once again graying rose, no matter how heartbreaking the parting is.

This time, you’re prepared. You've been studying up, like a lovesick high school student devouring dating magazines during your spare moments at work. The rose will still most likely wilt unfairly fast with how you’re barely a presence in your own home; sleeping soundly as soon as you arrive.

Lyney is smiling softly as he gives this one to you, silent. Though that’s probably because you’re raving on about how you swear that the next ones he’ll give will live longer if you figure out how to do it right.

He likes doing that—staring at you like watching a film play even though he’s the one on stage more often than not.

“Do you know what all those flowers I gave you mean?” he asks as you’re twirling it around and counting the petals. They’re still bright pink, fading to yellow at its tips. You shake your head. It could mean anything, really. You haven’t gotten to that part of the book yet. “My feelings for you,” he says. “I give them to you every day so you’re reminded of it.”

Your finger catches on one of the petals, your skin burning. “…Is that what you think? I feel horrible; the flowers you’ve given me all die in a day or two.”

Lyney laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“How else can I show you I’m not just casting your feelings aside?”

You turn to Lyney, wondering why he suddenly went silent. Only then, you see how he has his face buried in his palm, a dazed smile peeking out from what’s visible. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“...Sorry.”

He recovers fast. “Don’t be sorry.” Lyney holds your jaw in a precise grip, keeping your gaze focused on him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s only the next morning do you realize that the petals haven’t changed at all. You’re not sure why you haven’t noticed earlier.

Then again, you should’ve realized when he brought up what they mean so suddenly, that slick bastard.

Lyney sees you around the afternoon, and immediately he sees something new around your collar, probably because he keeps staring at it.

Lyney pulls you closer with a hand on the small of your back, and the other inspecting your brand-new necklace. “Is this…?”

It was a bit difficult to craft your own accessory, but you tried nevertheless. If Lyney goes out of his way to purchase different kinds of flowers, the least you can do is show him that each one makes you as happy as the first one did.

“You said they’re kind of like your feelings, right?” you say, unsure as to why you’re whispering. Lyney’s expression looks a little fragile. “So I made them into something to remind me of you every day.”

He presses his face onto your neck, and you nearly lose balance, holding onto the back of his head to keep yourself upright. “You’re too cute, amour. My heart can’t handle all of this,” he weeps dramatically.

( “Close your mouth, Lyney. You’re drooling,” Lynette says as she follows his gaze, watching you flutter past.

Lyney’s mouth snaps shut, wiping at his lips. He frowns. “I wasn’t even drooling.” He shakes his head. “Nevermind that—do you know who that was?”

“No,” Lynette says simply. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to figure out eventually.” )

lyney went back to giving you real flowers after that btw

this was inspired by me daydreaming about lyney’s character quest and remembering that he literally gave us that flower accessory

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

That's My Man

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~500

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Spencer gets a haircut and you have a most pleasant reaction to it.

Square Filled: holidays (2023) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s been an entire month since you’ve seen your boyfriend but he’s back now. He spent Christmas and New Years with his mother back in Las Vegas while you stayed with your family in Virginia. You two are still so new that you haven’t had the chance to meet his family, and you weren't going to let your first meeting be the holidays.

If and when you’re going to do it, you want to do it right.

While the holidays might be over, the snow is still coming down in waves, making this a white winter. Snow is probably your favorite kind of weather because you get to create angels and snowmen and forts and anything else you want. You want to do that and go ice skating with Spencer tomorrow when the sun is out but for right now, you’re going to have a movie marathon.

He’s staying over for the entire weekend and you can’t be more excited than you are right now.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice comes from the front hallway. The door opens to face a solid wall fifteen feet from the door. To the left is the kitchen and to the right is the living room. “I’m here!”

You gave him a key pretty early on because you already knew he was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It’s one of those things where you just know. You love him so much and you don’t want to waste any time with him.

“In here!” you call from the right. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the hook in front of him before closing and locking the door. He walks into the living room and you turn to greet him when a confused frown sits on your face. “Why are you wearing a beanie?”

Spencer hates hats. He doesn’t like the feel of them or how he looks in them. Why is he wearing a beanie? He hasn’t all winter.

“I don’t know. I liked how it looked on me.”

“Mmhmm.” You get up and walk over to him. “Now what’s the real reason?” He looks shy as if he’s embarrassed to tell you. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Just… don’t laugh, okay?”

“Okay.”

He takes off his beanie and your jaw practically drops to the floor. He messes with his hair to make it look good but you’re fixed on that the fact that he got a haircut. He doesn't have long curly hair anymore. It’s short and slightly spiked. There are longer pieces in the front but he’s cut it all off.

God fucking damn. He looks so goddamn fine.

“Please say something,” he sighs, unable to take the silence anymore.

“Oh, my God.” He lowers his head knowing you must hate it. “Look at my man!” He snaps his head up as a slight blush creeps up his neck. “Damn, you look so good! Is that Spencer Reid? My gorgeous man?”

“Okay, stop,” he smiles, blushing profusely. You jump into his arms and kiss his face all over, and he tips his head back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay!”

You pull away with a loving smile and keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You look very handsome.”

“Thank you,” he smiles.

Choosing you has got to be the best thing he could have ever done for himself.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[yogurtkags]

congrats on the milestone, cid!!! for the event, how about kageyama with YOUR favorite premise/trope? 🫵

❝ STUCK WITH YOU ❞ — kageyama tobio

cw. gn!reader, implied friends to lovers, forced proximity (there is only one bed), mutual pining, comfort, confessions, not beta read. word count. ~ 1.2k synopsis. whispered confessions and hesitant embraces of a boy in love event masterlist

well shit.

“i can take the floor—“ the both of you splutter out at the same time, causing a little giggle to escape your lips and even tobio to crack a tiny crooked smile, both of your cheeks flushing a light pink.

“the floor’s so uncomfortable, it’s going to ruin your back and you’re not going to like it during practice tomorrow.” you pointedly remark, eyebrow quirked and hands on your hips, thinking you’ve won with your argument.

the rain pelts against your bedroom windows, little taps growing progressively louder and faster and as the winds howl and the trees sway, like a ticking clock counting down to a verdict.

you gave him the option to stay over with his best interests in mind, he can’t afford walking home drenched in the rain and getting sick right now with a match in a few days. but the idea of being in such close proximity for a night with the boy who seized your heart causes it to hammer anxiously in your chest, like butterflies emerging from their cocoons. maybe i didn’t think this through.

crossing his arms over his chest with a scoff, he grumbles matter-of-factly, “and let you go through the discomfort instead? no way in hell.”

once he's made up his mind, there's no convincing him otherwise.

he swears that he cares so much for you, he just doesn't know how to express it in words without being a little blunt and sometimes a little mean, but you know he has good intentions. you wouldn't willingly be friends with him if he didn't, at least he hopes that's the case— his stomach threatens to drop at the idea that he had possibly made you feel upset in any sort of way. it might seem dramatic, but he'd rather die than make you feel like you'd have to walk on eggshells around him.

“well if you’re so against it, we can…" you clear your throat nervously, eyes darting across the floorboards and unable to meet his, "...share?"

tobio's cheeks burn with the implication of your words. the two of you, in bed, together, just the thought alone is enough to cause his brain to short-circuit, leaving him in a stuttering mess and avoiding your eyes, suddenly finding the band poster on your wall very interesting.

you would've missed his quiet "okay" if you weren't looking at him and trying to gauge his reaction from the corner of your eye, his voice barely above a whisper, “but i’m pushing you off if you kick me.”

“excuse you, it’s literally my bed?!”

“dumbass.”

with a huff, you turn and crawl into your bed, rolling to the side closer to the window and grabbing part of the blankets, giving him some space if he decides to join you. facing away from him to hide your nerves and expression, you announce, "well i'm turning in now, it's up to you if you want to get in or not."

you try your best to play it off nonchalantly, but everything in your being prays and hopes that he does. every second that you wait, the faster your thoughts race, you worry that he only said yes to appease you, that you made him uncomfortable with your question, that you were getting ahead of yourself. maybe this was a bad idea.

the swirling tornado of thoughts in your mind was interrupted by the feeling of the empty space behind you dip with weight. it doesn't do much to soothe your nerves, but you focus your eyes on the raindrops trailing down your window, letting it still your heart, even if just for a little while.

as the two of you lay in silence, backs facing each other with a little river of a space between your bodies, neither dare to move even an inch. your senses are on high alert, taking note of every single movement, every breath, the fibers of your sheets feeling scratchy for the first time, just waiting, longing for something to happen.

the sudden flash of lightning and loud thundering causes a small yelp to slip out of your lips, flinching as the burst of bright light floods your vision and temporarily illuminates the dark room. your back lightly brushes against tobio's and you're quick to apologise, "i-i'm sorry, i was just shocked by that."

"i know," you told him some time ago that storms make you a little anxious, he remembers every little detail about you, committing it to memory, "are you okay?"

turning his head to look at you over his shoulder, his heart clenches at the way you shake your head with embarrassment, almost trying to make yourself smaller and shrinking your frame against him. you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it, silently glaring and cursing at the sky and the dark clouds that inhabit it, why did this wretched rain have to make things weird?

with a sharp inhale, he bites the bullet and tests the waters, turning around and reaching for your hand. as his fingers brush over your knuckles, your breath catches in your throat at the delicate motion, the callouses and roughness feeling like light tender scratches on your skin, creating a gentle distraction to your weary soul.

it’s odd. you two were always close, but not like this, yet it feels natural. your hands fit together like pieces of a puzzle, yours cradled in the palm of his larger ones. in your vulnerability, you rest your forehead on his clothed chest, trying to ground yourself and slow your breathing, finding comfort in the rhythm of his heart thrumming against his chest.

tobio hopes that you don’t notice the speed of his pulse, and even if you do, he wishes you won’t bring it up for the sake of his sanity. before this, he longed for the day that he could hold you in his arms, but now that the time has come, he can’t help but wish it was under different circumstances, nonetheless counting his lucky stars for this opportunity to be there for you.

with tremoring hands, he pulls you closer and strokes your hair, running his fingers between the soft strands in a light caress, recalling the days when miwa used to do this for him as a young child riddled with fear. your body melts against his in relief, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, sinking into his steady hold and letting the rise and fall of his chest slowly lull you in a calm rest.

this feels... nice.

tobio thinks you look beautiful in this light, the faintest glow from the streetlamps below shining in through the sheer curtains and fanning across the apples of your cheeks. he almost gives in to the temptation of brushing his lips against your forehead but decides against it, settling with admiring your delicate features and letting his eyes trail across the fine details of your face.

in the quiet of night when he thinks you're asleep, he plucks the courage to whisper into the crown of your head, three words he's had on his mind for a while now, allowing himself to drift off into slumber with your soft smile pressed into the crook of his neck.

notes. mac my fellow tobio enjoyer, thank you for requesting our beloved blooberi boy and my favourite tropes (you know the way to my heart) ♡ i look forward to more screaming crying thirst sessions with you over mr tobio, much love to you !! (dividers: @/cafekitsune) reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[chiscaralight]

thinkin' about modern au overworked, sugar daddy!wriothesley. he’s so pent up and frustrated from his stupid job, what better way to relieve tension than with that cute body of his sweet, sweet sugar baby?

which is exactly why he has you like this, nose pressed against his hard pelvic bone as he fucks your mouth in the living room of his huge penthouse. The job pays extremely well, a little too well, and he has no idea what to do with all the money. so he’ll throw it all at you! with the way you’re working those lips around his cock, he might just buy you your very own. your sweet laugh is muffled, but he doesn't know why you think it's funny. he's being dead serious.

he's not very patient either, because he doesn't even let you get your clothes completely off! your cute little skirt is bunched up around your waist, his large hands gripping at the fat off your ass as he bounces you up and down on his length. it's insane to him how small you are, fully able to hold and use you like this. you can't even fight back at this point, you're just going stupid on his cock! that expression on your face, the way your nails are digging into his shoulders, is the exact reason why he can't get enough of you.

and he's ripping your shirt, the sound of buttons popping off ringing in your ears so he has access to your tits. you whine in protest as he bites down on your sensitive bud. not because it hurt, but because this is the thousandth time he's ruining one of your favorite clothes! he's detaching momentarily, groaning about how he'll replace it. he doesn't even know why you complain, he'll buy you twenty more of the same type if you want. just let him take good care of you tonight, and you can ask for whatever you want.

the two of you barely make it up the stairs when he decides he doesn't care enough for a bed to walk the remaining what, ten feet? so your back is pressed to the cool wall of the upstairs hallway, tongue chasing his own as he fucks up into you, strong arms hooked under your knees. you're moaning into his mouth, eyes starting to water from how thick he is. no matter how many times you let him lay waste to you, your tight cunt struggles to fully take him as he drills into you. but it's exactly what he loves.

he stops to put you down, pressing your face into the wall before he slides back in again. you can't even hold back the sister noise that leaves your lips and he's grunting at the sound, hips slamming forward in one thrust. unable to catch your breath before he moves again, your moans start to sync with the slaps of his hips while your tears run from the pleasure. your eyes are squeezed shut, brows furrowed as you take his cock just as you always do. but his eyes are watching you. this is why he'll never quit that fuckass job. who'll make sure you're living as lavishly as you deserve? the money isn't even the drive, it's that sweet fuckin' cunt that turns him into an animal,, primal instincts activated as he ruts into you with his orgasm. he'll make sure he's pumping you full of his cum just like he whispered in your ear a few minutes ago. maybe he'll stop paying for your birth control too and fuck a kid into you, then he'll be sure no one else can take that mind-numbing pussy away from him.

your lips are pouted as he guides you back to his room. it'll never not be funny how difficult you find it to walk after, but it's not like you asked him to go that hard? he ushers you into the bathroom and offers for you to spend the night. it's late, and you can pick whichever one of his cars you want him to drop you off in tomorrow. you pretend to think, knowing fully well you'll snuggle into his soft sheets anyway. when you finally do, he's quick to follow, his hard chest pressing into your back. his lips are hot on your neck, followed by a large hand raising your leg. since you're staying the night, another round wouldn't hurt, yeah?

[coldfanbou]

A Different Kind of Workout

Here's my first Sakura piece, I hope you all like it. She gets to use something special.

Length 2K

Sakura x Mreader

“I wish I was back home,” Sakura whined to herself as she continued jogging on the treadmill. She cursed herself for saying she could take care of Kazuha’s job for the day. She watched the customers in front of her follow her lead as she led them through various exercises. This was the final one, and Sakura just wanted it to end. She huffed and puffed, tired but knowing she only had a few minutes left. 

Once the time was up, she got off the treadmill and clapped to attract everyone’s attention. “Good work, everyone! That was the end of today’s class; your regular instructor will be back tomorrow.” Everyone packs up and goes to the exit. You wait by the door and walk once Sakura is the only one left. She falls onto her back, sweat covering her body. You walk over to her and lean down, kissing her forehead. “I’m so tired.” She says, between ragged breaths. You glance down at her body, noticing her white T-shirt is utterly soaked and becoming see-through. Her black bra is outlined and holding your attention. You reach down and squeeze her breast. “Ah, stop. Someone might see.” She moans softly. “I wish I hadn’t agreed to cover Kazuha.”

“I know, I know, but you did well.” 

Sakura extends her arms, “Carry me home.” 

“Actually, there’s something I want to show you. Kazuha mentioned she left you a gift.” 

“What kind of gift?” Sakura says as she tries to sit up. You push on her back, helping her. 

“I don’t know. She said she left it in her storage area.” Sakura reaches up, and you pull her onto her feet before you head into Kazuha’s storage room. There’s very little in the room, but Kazuha’s gift sat in the middle of the room and took up a lot of space. A sheet covered it, but with a sign teasing Sakura on it, you knew what it was.“Do you want to pull off the sheet, or should I?”

“You do it,” Sakura says, staying behind you. You step closer to the gift and pull off the sheet. You struggle to keep quiet as you see what it is.”What is it?” Sakura says, poking out from behind you. Sakura squats down and sees what it is; she covers her face and looks shocked. You start laughing, unable to hold it together. Kazuha’s gift to Sakura was a stationary bike with a dildo attached to the seat. When you look at Sakura again, you see her face becoming red. 

“Oh, there’s another note here.” You walk up to the bike and grab it before handing it to Sakura. “Why don’t you read it?”

Sakura takes the note and remains squatting as she reads it. “Hi, Sakura. Do you like your present? It’s mine, but I thought you might want to use it. I cleaned it beforehand, so don’t worry about it being dirty. I know your boyfriend is going to pick you up, so why don’t you give him a…” Sakura goes quiet and hangs her head in defeat. You think about what Kazuha said and imagine Sakura using the machine. You start staring at her; it takes Sakura a moment to notice. “No, I’m not using it.” She says hesitantly.

“But you would look so good on it. It would be really hot, Sakura; just try it.”

“No, I-I…” Sakura stumbles over her words, trying to figure a way out of the situation.

You start to push Sakura closer to the machine. “Just get on it once. You can consider this an early birthday present for me.”

“Your birthday isn’t for six months.” 

“Exactly. Now get on it.” Sakura hops onto the bike, sitting on the front end of the seat, leaving the dildo rubbing against her clothed ass. You get hard watching Sakura be so close to riding it. Sakura’s eyes move from your face down your body as she gets embarrassed; her eyes stop when they notice your bulge.

“You really find this hot?” She asks innocently. You nod to her. Sakura takes a deep breath and climbs off the bike. “I’ll ride it on one condition. I want to watch you jerk off to me.”

“Deal.” You reply immediately. You strip off your clothes, letting Sakura see how hard you are.

Despite having seen Sakura’s body a million times, she still turned around to strip off her clothes. First went her tight-fitting shirt, then her black bra. You looked over her toned back as she grabbed the top of her shorts, her fingers hooking around her panties. Sakura bent over as she pulled off her panties and shorts. You could see her pretty pink lips for a moment; once Sakura kicked off her shorts, she climbed onto the bike, her breasts swaying as she tried to balance on the pedals. She holds onto one of the handles for support as she uses her free hand to align the toy with her entrance. It pokes and prods her as she moves it into place. Once Sakura is ready, her eyes become glued to you. They would be anyway if she didn’t close them when she lowered herself onto the toy. A light gasp escapes Sakura’s lips before turning into a moan. The dildo slipped into Sakura easily, her walls coating it in her juices as it pushed its way inside her. 

Opening her eyes again, Sakura begins to watch you as you jerk off for her. Her tits sway as she moves from one foot to the other, each time moving up and down the toy. Sakura begins to enjoy herself; she moans lightly and grabs at her tit. Squeezing it roughly, she finds her nipple and pinches it between her pointer and middle finger. Each time Sakura comes crashing down on the toy, her tits bounce along with her. You get closer to Sakura, getting beside her to start kissing her neck. You play with her other tit, feeling her soft flesh. Sakura moans your name and reaches down for your cock. Her fingers are around your base while the head rests in her palm; she moves her hand as best as possible. Sakura begins to sweat during her workout; her body becomes slippery. You lap at her neck, making her shiver as you lick up the sweat around her neck.

Sakura bites her lip and begins to whine as she nears her climax. She loses the pace she was going at, speeding up and slowing down erratically. “I’m going to cum.” She moans softly. 

“Let me help you.” You whisper to her as you move your hand down to her cunt. You move your fingers along her lips before settling on her clit. Moving in small circles, you make Sakura cry out in pleasure as she continues to bounce on the dildo. She lets herself sink onto the toy as she cums. She leans against you and holds onto one of the handles as she rocks her hips against the seat. As she recovers, Sakura notices her other hand is wet, covered in your precum. You’re disappointed when her hand leaves your cock, but as you see her bring her hand up to her lips, you grow excited. Sakura drags her tongue along her palm, licking up your precum. She has hungry eyes and asks you to help her off the bike. You lift her off it, listening intently to her moan. 

Once she gets off the machine, she turns to face it and bends over. She spreads her lips for you, her wet pink pussy for the taking. “I need it,” She says quietly. You get behind Sakura and rub the tip against her lips, teasing her before you push inside. Her lips spread for you, welcoming you as you fill her up. Sakura releases a guttural moan as she feels your cock bury itself in her deepest parts. You move your hands around her ass, feeling her soft ass before giving it a small slap. Sakura groans as she feels the sting from the hit, a smile forming across her face. You pull out, leaving the tip inside before slamming yourself back in. Sakura places her forearms on the side of the seat, the dildo sitting right in front of her face. She can see her juices flowing down the sides of the shaft. She couldn’t resist it; the pleasure was overcoming her senses. Sakura wrapped her lips around the dildo, tasting herself as she moved her tongue around the shaft. The muffled moans Sakura released still managed to fill the room, only challenged by the sounds of your bodies slapping against each other. 

You enjoyed the feeling of Sakura’s tight cunt; you could feel her body naturally flex, making her feel tighter. While you were taking her from behind, Sakura pushed her head down to the seat, forcing the dildo into the back of her throat. It worked to quiet Sakura as she got closer to her second orgasm. You worked to make her cum, piercing her womb with every thrust while you rested against her back and wrapped your hands around her tits. Sakura’s sweat began to cover you as your bodies rubbed against each other; her hair was becoming matted to her body. Sakura pulled away from the dildo, yelling, “I’m cumming!” Her head swung back as she came; you could feel her walls growing tighter. You bury yourself inside Sakura, letting her walls massage your cock. You were getting close to cumming.

Sakura was running out of strength; she managed to lift her body, resting it against you. “You didn’t cum yet.” She says, looking around the room. Seeing a mat on the floor, she points to it. “Lay me down there, fuck me until you cum, baby.” You walk her over to the mat on the floor, laying her down. Sakura’s hair falls around her, the pieces around her forehead stuck to it. You spread Sakura’s legs and push yourself back in. Sakura raises her chest, moaning because of your cock. You watch her tits jiggle as you move in and out, they look soft. You lean down, taking one in your mouth. Sakura whimpers as your tongue moves around her nipple. At first, you get a salty taste; it was Sakura’s sweat, but it soon disappears. Her mouth hangs open, moans flowing out of her as her body is overwhelmed by pleasure. Sakura’s eyes roll into the back of her head as your thrusts quicken. Her arms wrap around your head as her thighs squeeze your sides. “C-Cumming,” Sakura moans. You were close, Sakura’s tightening cunt was pushing you closer. You give her a few more thrusts before you bury yourself inside Sakura. 

You cum at the same time, Sakura’s walls squeeze the sides of your cock. Feeling your cum rushing into her cunt, Sakura's mouth hangs open, her tongue poking out as she’s filled. Sakura continues to hold you to her chest as she goes through her third orgasm. Her grip slowly loosens, allowing you to pull out and lay beside her. Sakura remains in the position you left her, legs wide open with her arms outstretched. “That was fantastic.” You tell her. 

“I-I came so many times. Maybe we should do this again.” 

“Are you saying you’ll get a job here instead of playing games at home?” 

“I’ll buy my own machine that way; we can do this anytime.” She says, turning her head toward you. You kiss Sakura, her lips lingering on yours before moving back. The two of you lay there catching your breath. You don’t know how long you’re there before Sakura manages to pick herself up. “My body hurts.” She groans, struggling to stand. 

“This is why you need to work out more.” You tell Sakura as you help her get dressed. You squeeze her ass as you leave the storage room, making Sakura groan. She smirks at you, “You better start looking at machines, Sakura. I want to do this again soon.”

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

Wriothesley who steals kisses from you in-between his practice rounds. Each time the bell dings and his sparring opponent and he back off to their respective corners of the ring, you always come up to him with a bottle of water and a towel to wipe away his sweat, and the first thing he always does, no matter how sweaty, sticky, or stinky you joke he is, is to place a big fat kiss on your lips.

He enthusiastically sweeps you into his arms, high off of the adrenalin from the practice round, and lets himself kiss you silly right then and there— as a little treat to himself.

Wriothesley who, after he's had his fill of you to last him until the next round, happily lets himself be babied by you— lets you pat the sweat away from his forehead and eyes while he takes sips form his water. Lets you fret over the tender spots on his body that'll most likely bloom into bruises tomorrow.

He lets you press kisses to his wrapped knuckles, and even though the wrappings are thick, he swears that the touch is enough to send sparks up and down his arms.

Wriothesley who always plays up how tired he is after a spar. Who dramatically collapses on the nearest surface (most oftentimes you) just to lean all those heavy muscles as absolute deadweight, claiming that he's "Soo tired. Absolutely aching to the bone. Unable to walk. You're gonna have to carry me, sweetheart, otherwise I think I might end up passing out right here." Nevermind that you've seen him go longer, go harder and walk away from the ring barely winded, much less on the verge of collapse.

He always does this as long as he knows you're watching though— in part because it's fun to tease you, but also because it's so sweet when he sees you actually do your damn best to try and lug his ass back. It's cute how you always humor him with barely a fight, how you roll your eyes and you grumble about how annoying he is the entire way, but you never ever actually call him out on his bullshit. He has a grin on his face the whole way back. And if he ends up taking most of his weight off of you anyway, then that's for him to know.

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[devildomwriter]

Barbatos Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. When Barbatos joined the fad of putting a sticker on the back of your DDD that portrayed your emotion his said “Finish your work”

2. Barbatos works for Diavolo because he was both lured in by Diavolo and Diavolo threatened him he wouldn’t become king if Barbatos didn’t work for him

3. Barbatos continues to smile even when angry which scares many people especially Little D No. 2

4. Barbatos can choose from any number of realities and make his choice the one true reality

5. Despite being perfect at almost everything, Barbatos has difficulty acting

6. Barbatos is an excellent dancer according to Asmodeus

7. Barbatos supervises fan club meetings for the student council members

8. Barbatos is a talented ice skater and won the first competition Diavolo held for it

9. Diavolo has forbidden Barbatos to use his powers freely and Barbatos tells Lucifer he will only look into the future when Diavolo explicitly asks him to

10. Despite being a butler Lucifer claims Barbatos has elite status

11. Barbatos is described as a walking tea encyclopedia

12. Barbatos has exceptionally good luck, including always winning the jackpot at the casinos

13. Barbatos and Lucifer’s chat name is “Tea Demons”

14. After being strangled by Belphegor, Barbatos saves MC by fusing the altered timeline and the original timeline together

15. Barbatos’ favorite teas are herbal teas

16. Barbatos appears to love herbs in general and not just in his tea

17. Barbatos mentions that he was never a child

18. Barbatos uses his powers by accessing realities, the past and the future through the doors in his room

19. Solomon once had to summon Barbatos to drive off a headless dragon

20. When Barbatos dresses as a dame to escort Queen Rose, his beauty caused an uproar and piles of fanmail were delivered to the demon lords castle so he decided to never dress as a dame again

21. Barbatos had a pact with Solomon before Asmodeus did

22. Barbatos recommends tea leaves grown in exceptionally low temperatures because it adds depth to the flavor

23. Barbatos enjoys walks at night

24. Barbatos prefers cats over dogs

25. Barbatos is so scared of rats he cannot even say their name

26. To summon Barbatos, Solomon had to use so much magic and energy he nearly died, Barbatos was impressed and decided to form a pact to save Solomon’s life

27. Barbatos once attempted to poison rats with Solomon’s food but instead the rat grew in size and Barbatos took the next few days off recovering

28. Barbatos likes the colors burgundy and indigo, he likes indigo specially because he feels he can wear it everyday

29. Barbatos expresses to MC that due to the nature of his job he’s never had any interest in wearing perfume

30. Solomon supposedly owns Barbatos’s grimoire a sign of absolute trust

31. Barbatos does not like it when people touch his tail

32. Barbatos describes himself as dismayed when he and Diavolo are left out of big events

33. Barbatos was once provoked into fighting a witch when she called him a cutie

34. Barbatos’s motto is “to be selfless and serve the people.”

35. Barbatos always puts together and double checks Diavolo’s schedule for the following day before he goes to bed

36. Barbatos starts his baths with his right arm

37. Barbatos’s dream is to see Diavolo become king

38. Barbatos says that if the Devildom were to disappear tomorrow he’d like to hear from Diavolo first

39. Barbatos is not the active one when it comes to a relationship and desires to be bound by his lover

40. Barbatos cherishes relationship anniversaries and special days of remembrance

41. Barbatos says that for a relationship with obstacles he’d rather give up

42. During a love survey, Barbatos chose "other" for the question "unable to express his feelings frankly." His explanation was that there might be situations where he might not necessarily tell a significant other his feelings.

43. Barbatos can see the past and the future

44. When Lucifer first fell to the Devildom and lashed out at Diavolo, Barbatos was the first one to point out to Lucifer that he had become a demon

45. Barbatos prefers traditional establishments that are quiet and easier to relax in

46. Diavolo considers Barbatos more of a drill Sargent and says he is too harsh

47. Barbatos refused Diavolo’s idea of a cleaning robot because he enjoys caring for Diavolo himself

48. Barbatos will sometimes inconvenience himself if it will make Diavolo happy. For example in a chat Barbatos explains that he would prefer to decline an invitation to appear on a quiz show in order to focus on his duties. However, he considers accepting the invitation just to see the look of delight on Diavolo's face.

49. Barbatos works hard to try and discreetly feed and sneak in ingredients into Diavolo’s food that Diavolo avoids like pickles

50. When the brothers get to rowdy at a meeting Barbatos is quick to use physical violence to stop them

51. Barbatos can utilize forks as weapons

52. Barbatos thinks he doesn’t work out enough

53. Barbatos is always overjoyed to receive Diavolo’s praise

54. Barbatos has been described as the greatest pastry chef in the three worlds

55. Barbatos nearly died in season 4 after rescuing the brothers from the Dark Crevasse

56. Barbatos often saves his left over sweets for MC

57. Barbatos once threw a fork at Mammon’s head for interrupting him

58. Barbatos likes Heavy Metal music

59. Barbatos can open portals the dream world

60. The brothers believe Barbatos is overprotective of Diavolo

61. Barbatos is the first demon Luke bonds with

62. Barbatos is always helping Luke with baking, giving recommendations, and spending time baking together

63. Barbatos’s human world look is meant to represent someone who works with tea

64. The necklace Barbatos wears in his human world look is from a shop recommended by Solomon and might be magical

65. Barabtos reminds MC they should be proud they represent the entire human world

66. Barbatos feels uncomfortable not serving and being served himself

67. Barbatos says he is pleased to see MC enjoying themself

68. In a Sweat-Result from surprise interaction, Barbatos tells MC not even they are safe from his wrath

69. Barbatos refers to MC as master to catch them off guard

70. Barbatos seems concerned about Asmodeus’s excess partying

71. When MC uses a whip on Barbatos he tells them they have a passing grade

72. Barbatos often has to stop Diavolo’s antics like preventing him from bringing a 300 foot Christmas tree into the castle

73. Barbatos likes matching with MC and describes the feeling as warm and fuzzy

74. Barbatos had to stop his duties once to prevent Diavolo from joining a public karaoke contest

75. Barbatos wishes to take MC to a music festival at Hell’s Dome

76. Barbatos often finds himself and Simeon going on outings together

77. Barbatos tells MC he wishes they could have tea together just the two of them more often

78. Barbatos heard MC talking in their sleep once. According to him Mc called his name many times among other things that made him smile which he won’t go into details about

79. Barbatos grew a black poinsettia for MC, the flower is meant to represent the bond between two people

80. To help Diavolo prepare for a pancake stacking contest, Barbatos baked 1,000 pancakes a day

81. Lucifer is confused as to how Barbatos keeps so clean while cooking and cleaning in formal wear

82. To avoid Asmodeus feeling him up, Barbatos dragged Satan to the dance floor instead

83. When MC and Mephistopheles illegally enter the student council library, he immediately reports it and is upset no one cares

84. Little D No. 2 once accidentally exploded the castle bathtub with bathbombs and fearing Barbatos’s reaction hid them with Beelzebub who was also scared of Barbatos’s reaction

85. Barbatos always has to stop Diavolo from eating revelation tomatoes as he believes Diavolo shouldn’t have to reveal anything

86. Barbatos was the first person Diavolo asked to pretend to be his date so he could get ice cream for couples but Barbatos refused

87. Barbatos rarely has dreams but when he does they’re of the future

88. Barabtos saved Luke from drowning when Luke tried to save Serun from drowning

89. When inviting others for tea, Barbatos requests they don’t bring Beelzebub for obvious reasons

90. Barabtos once made Leviathan dishes from various manga and anime he liked

91. Barbatos sometimes helps Luke with his crossword puzzles

92. When Luke is called a demon by Mammon and is stunned and horrified, Barbatos is the one to quickly reassure him that demons are much trickier and ruthless

93. Apparently there was a demon who looked so similar to Barbatos that both Luke and Diavolo were fooled

94. Barbatos once sneezed and accidentally teleported Diavolo to the wrong location, Diavolo used this to guilt trip him into staying in the human world

95. Barbatos has a more recent obsession of recreating buildings as desserts

96. Barbatos “looks on in amazement” whenever Diavolo accidentally sorts urgent and non-urgent documents into the same pile

97. Barbatos has an herb garden at the castle where he grows many herbs including Darkness Thyme which is difficult for even masters to cultivate

98. Barbatos used to have nightmares until he started picturing MC’s face before falling asleep

99. When Solomon accidentally created a potion that made everyone speak differently Barbatos describes it as dark days that will live on in his memory

100. Barbatos was so pleased with Mammon’s hard work at TTWF that he took Mammon to the casinos (Barbatos always hits the jackpot)