#god i love voice of the paranoid so much

[celestialorcas]

I'm normal about this game I'm normal about this game I'm Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves. Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves.

[rakkuntoast]

OUGH phil is so worried abt forever to the point he offered him to stay with him at his base away from the favelas and decided to stay longer on the server in case something happens and he gets to teleport the eggs home (forever gave him access to the one that recalls all the eggs to the hotel)

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat- enter Jason 1/2

MASTERPOST

The air was different with Cass, now. Danny felt a little anxious as he followed her to the study after breakfast. Something about her was serious-determined-protective. 

She always felt protective towards him. That was why he'd followed her in the first place. Some ghosts lied, but they couldn't do it with their aura. He knew what she really felt for him. 

“Sit?” She asked him. She gestured at the big squashy chair. Danny did without complaint. Cass perched behind him and started dragging her fingers through his hair, relaxing him.

Man. She was good at this. Top tier mothering, right here. Danny went limp. 

“I'm worried,” Cass broke the silence. She didn't sound worried. She never really did. Her voice was quiet and serious, but still kind. Her thumbs dug into his scalp. He pushed his head back against it. Bliss. “Barbara made you sad. Because you miss your sister?”

Danny tensed. 

‘I should have figured that Batman would track me down.’

Maybe he had known, if he was honest with himself. It didn't hit him like a shock.

“Tim thinks your name is Fenton,” she added, brutally sensible as always. And yup, that was it. No point in denying it. “Declared dead. In danger?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn't going to lie to her. 

“Worried,” she repeated. 

He thought about it. He really did. Danny bit his lip. 

She was liminal. That probably meant she'd come really close to death, in at least one sense of the word. Would that mean she was desensitized to it, or extra paranoid?

…It was hard to imagine Cass over or under reacting to a possible danger. She was just so steady. But would she see him as a possible danger if she knew what he was, what he really was? 

He could feel it out before he took a plunge with the whole truth.

Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was invasive. She didn't seem to realize that she was liminal. That meant she definitely didn't realize how much she was communicating to him under her words and gestures. 

But Danny deliberately tuned into her quiet aural communication and tested the waters. “Tim is right, I'm Danny Fenton,” he said. He knew he was too tense. She would definitely feel it. But what could he do about that? He was nervous. “I… Maybe I did die.”

Her heart dropped to her stomach. He could feel the crush of grief on her heart. 

But it didn’t wash away the thudding repetition of love-protect-my darling. There was no suspicion, no guilt, no fear. It was just pain for his sake, with no calculation about how to solve a sudden problem. 

God. He wanted so badly for that to have been how his parents reacted. His eyes started to sting.

Danny sniffled. He thought it was safe to tell her. “I died,” he corrected, and he knew he was right when Cass made a little wounded sound and leaned her body into him, aiming to comfort. “Not then, but a couple years ago. I’m different now, and it’s uh… It’s dangerous to be this way.”

“Affects?” Cass asked quietly. She started to pet his hair again. “Mood? Health?”

“...Huh,” he said, because that was a sensible question he hadn’t expected. If he really thought about his mood and emotions before and after the accident: “Yeah, uh, there’s sometimes a mood thing. I might be a little more aggressive than I was before? And I can get kind of intense sometimes.”

He had thought that was basically just a reaction to having a whole bunch of new threats in his life. But would pre-electrocution Danny have been able to actually stand and fight Skulker? He had genuinely been afraid of the jocks. Maybe… Maybe he was different. Sure, Sam and Jazz were up for shooting ghosts with Fenton tech. Would he have been if he was just human? 

…He didn’t really think so.

Oof. Well, that wasn’t exactly great for his sense of self.

Cass shook him lightly. “Health?” she repeated.

Danny forced down that revelation to deal with later. He didn’t like acknowledging that he was kind of a chicken by nature, but historically, there wasn’t much evidence of bravery pre-mortem. “Uh, my heart rate is really slow, body temp is low, so I can’t really afford to go to a doctor for a checkup,” he said. “Uh, sometimes I’ve got none at all and my hair turns white.” He paused there. That was- that was enough, yeah? He was going to be honest with her because she deserved honesty from him. But that didn’t mean he had to explain the whole great beyond and his inhuman status.

“Sounds like Jason,” Cass said, after a long silence.

Danny short-circuited. “Wait, what?” He craned to look at her. “Who?”

Cass darted forward to kiss his forehead. “Little brother,” she said cheerfully. “Want to meet him?”

Uh, yeah. Danny nodded vigorously, wondering what the hell she was on about. “Do you mean he died?” 

“Died,” Cass agreed, getting out her phone and tapping away at it rapidly.

“Not like, heart stopped for a minute on the operating table and he was revived, or what?” Danny pressed.

“Dead in the ground, came back later,” Cass said. “Dead for months. Now, very crabby.”

Danny balked. “What?”

“White hair too,” she said. Then her face did something funny. “I think he dyed it recently,” she said. 

Danny huffed a laugh. “If it’s the same thing as mine, you can’t dye it.” He saw her look over his head for white streaks. He didn’t correct her line of thought.

He hadn’t thought that anything could top the anticipation of meeting Batman. But Danny had to admit the rest of the day was a wash. Apparently Jason couldn’t make it until the evening, about an hour before patrol.

Danny nearly paced a line into the carpet. He had enough energy to do that now, even without ecto. He was getting soooo much food here. A guy couldn’t even stress out for an hour without someone coming by to make sure he had fruit and yogurt or a hot drink.

He didn’t need someone to come and tell him that the much anticipated Jason had shown up. Danny knew it when he went to take a sip of cruelty-free chocolate milk (hand delivered by the most frightening child in the world) and choked on vapor.

Damian gave him a glare and snatched the drink away. “Are you incapable of drinking beverages?” he demanded. His face looked so goddamn cross but he was just worried.

Danny managed a smile. “No, went down the wrong pipe, sorry.”

Damian didn’t seem to even see the fog, so- so that meant that either he was really unobservant or he wasn’t liminal enough to see it the way people did in Amity. That was a small blessing. Danny appreciated it and he took back his drink to have something to hold onto.

That was a whole ass ghost. That was a whole ghost coming onto the property, one that felt big and mad and old. Danny smacked his lips, disconcerted. 

He, uh, didn’t know what to expect from this.

[dmysterioblog]

I’ve Missed You

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You and Agatha had a twisted history. She had kidnapped you into Wanda’s distorted reality to make you into her perfect wife. She had you under a spell until Wanda freed you. Wanda promised you Agatha would never hurt you again and helped you find a new home where Agatha wouldn’t be able to find you. You had your little house in the middle of nowhere, where you were safe…or so you thought. (This is also based on the one clip of Rio pinning Agatha to the wall.)

Warnings; kidnapping, magical manipulation, manipulation, metal abuse, fingering, strap on use (r receiving), mommy kink.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/n: All these Agatha All Along trailers and teaser have motivated me to write after four months. I am so ecstatic for it to come out already! I have waited two years for this! 😭

You and Agatha had a twisted history. She had kidnapped you into Wanda’s distorted reality to make you into her perfect wife. She had you under a spell until Wanda freed you. You told her everything about Agatha’s sick plan and Wanda then was able to trick Agatha and put her under spell, trapping her in Westview. Wanda promised you Agatha would never hurt you again and helped you find a new home where Agatha wouldn’t be able to find you. She even casted runes around the house.

A couple months after those events you found out about Wanda’s death. You grieved her death little, she was the closest thing you had to a friend ever since Agatha stripped you from your friends and family, but most of all you felt fear. Fear that Agatha would come out of the spell and go looking for you especially because Wanda’s runes had disappeared.

You were paranoid for months until you had confirmation that she was still in Westview under the spell. You spent the next three years in hiding. You had your little house in the middle of nowhere, where you were safe…or so you thought.

It was around mid day when you found yourself in the kitchen making some coffee. You were just wearing a robe and your hair was laying wild over your shoulders. As you were pouring the milk into your coffee, you heard a noise outside. You frowned and walked over to the window and saw nothing. As you were about to get back to your coffee, you heard it again. You grabbed a knife and walked over to the front door. Before you could even open it, the door burst over and someone pinned you against the wall, making you drop the knife.

“I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” That voice…you hadn’t heard it in so long, it made your skin crawl.

“A-agatha?” your voice trembled as you said her name. You looked into her eyes, she looked the same, she hadn’t aged a day yet she looked older in a way. Maybe it was the dark circles that laid under her eyes. She gave you a sinister smile moving her hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear.

“You look as beautiful as the day you left me.”

“How did you free yourself? And how did you find me-”

“I had some help,” she simply said, moving her hand to your neck and squeezing lightly, “I didn’t appreciate you betraying me and running away. Did you really think you could get away from me?” she pouted mockingly.

“Agatha please-” you wrapped your hand around her wrist.

“Say that again, you know how much I love to hear you beg.”

“P-please don’t hurt m-me…” your voice cracked. You were terrified of this woman’s power, of what she could do. Agatha dismissed your pleas and started kissing down your neck, surprisingly gentle.

“God, I missed you so much,” her hand sneaked underneath your robe to grip onto your waist, “Wanda did quite the number on me but now she’s not here to save you,” she whispered harshly into your ear and a tear silently ran down your cheek.

“Shh, baby, there's no need to cry,” she wiped the tear away, “I promise to take my time with you.” She started dragging you to your bedroom and you just let her, you knew better than to fight back. She pushed you on your bed and started undressing. Even if she was manipulative she was still very attractive. Something you would never admit. When she was done, she crawled on top of you, still leaving your robe on.

“Look at me,” she said when you looked everywhere but her. You just wanted this to be over with. “I said look at me,” she demanded, cupping your face, making you look at her. Usually when you looked into her eyes, all you saw was lust and possessiveness but this time, there was something different.

“Tell me you missed me, Y/n. Tell me you missed my touch.” she pleaded. This was very out of character for her. She never showed vulnerability. Ever. Yet, here she was asking you if you missed her as if her life depended on it.

“I…” she started to kiss your neck again, nipping at it, “I missed you too,” you finally said. It wasn’t a complete lie, a small part of you did miss her. She did kidnap you but she still took care of you and gave you everything you had ever wanted.

“Good girl~” she finally started to untie your robe.

“Aggie-” you tried to protest, gripping into her wrist but she pinned your hand above your head with her magical binds.

“Shh, just relax,” she took off your robe, leaving you completely bare, “I’m going to take care of you.”

“All you do is h-hurt me…”

“That’s because you disobeyed me. I had to discipline you,” she said, manipulating you into thinking it was your fault, “If only you just did as you were told, I wouldn't have had to hurt you bunny…” she softly ran her nails down your waist and hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You remained quiet, not saying a word as her fingers moved closer to your core.

“I can’t wait to have you all to myself again,” she finally dipped her fingers into your wetness, chuckling at the fact that you were absolutely soaked for her. She started to slowly circle your clit, her breath hot against your ear.

“You were always so ready for me, baby. Your body still remembers me.” You whimpered when the pleasure caught up to you. You hadn’t touched yourself for so long. Your thoughts undoubtedly went to Agatha every time you tried so you gave up trying to find relief.

She chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused by your whimpers. She started to move her fingers faster, applying more pressure to your clit.

“I bet you haven’t touched yourself since you left me. You were too afraid to think about me, weren’t you?”

“…yes.” You replied, biting your lip when she sped up her movements.

“That’s what I thought. You knew that no one could make you feel as good as I do. No one can satisfy you like I can,” she smiled and leaned down to suck on your neck, leaving a dark spot.

“N-no one can…” You said, your brain turning into mush as she slipped her fingers inside you.

“I’m the only one who knows you better than you know yourself. You can barely take care of yourself, baby. You need me.” Agatha was doing what she knew best, manipulating you. She could put you under her spell again but she wanted you to willingly submit to her. She could feel your body starting to tense up as she continued to work her fingers inside you. She moved her lips to your jaw, placing gentle kisses along the way.

“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? Do you remember the rules?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed in response, tugging at the binds slightly.

“What do you say then?” she slowed down her movements, loving to see you so desperate for her touch.

“Can I cum please?”

“Beg me, baby. I want to hear you beg for me.”

“Please mommy? I promise to be a good girl!” And there it was. She finally had you exactly where she wanted you. She smirked at your words, her eyes darkened with lust.

“That’s my good girl. You always know how to please me. Cum for me, baby. Cum for mommy.” She freed your hands and you clung to her as you rode your high, moving your hips against her hand. She spoke sweet nothings into your ear, encouraging you before finally pulling her fingers out and kissing your forehead. You thought it was over until you felt something poking your entrance again.

“Mommy?” You mumbled again, trying to clench your thighs together. She smiled and gently caressed your face.

“I’m not done with you yet, baby. You still have a lot to make up for~”

“No more-” you tried to push her away but she didn’t budge. She grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Don’t tell me no, darling. You’re going to be a good girl and take whatever I give you. Understood? Don’t you want mommy to feel good too?” She started rubbing the tip of her enchanted strap against your pussy lips. She’d fucked you with the strap many times and she could feel everything which is why it was her favorite toy to use on you.

“But I’m too sensitive.” You whined.

“You can handle it, baby,” she chuckled and slowly pushed the tip of the strap inside you, “You’ve done it before…” she started to move her hips, pushing the strap deeper inside you. The strap slipped right in, your juices making it quite easy.

“Fuck, baby. You still feel so fucking tight. You’re taking me so well. You’re such a good girl~” Agatha groaned. Your pained whimpers soon turned into pleasurable moans and the knot in your stomach started to build up again. She continued to thrust into you, her movements becoming more erratic as she felt her own pleasure building up. She leaned down and whispered in your ear.

“That’s it, baby. Keep making those pretty sounds for me. I want to hear you scream my name when you cum.”

“A-Aggie-“ You dug your nails onto her back. She let out a low growl, her grip on your hips tightening.

“Say it again, baby. Say my name again.”

“Agatha!” You came again, your pussy pulsing around her strap as your legs started to shake. Agatha let out a moan as she felt you cum around her strap, her own orgasm washing over her. She continued to thrust into you a few more times before pulling out and collapsing on top of you.

“That’s my good girl. You did so well, baby,” she started petting your hair as if you were a pet. She pulled you closer, holding you in her arms. She ran her fingers through your hair, her voice soft.

“You’re mine and no one else’s. You’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understand? You don’t want mommy to have to hurt for not listening, do you?” You frantically shook your head, burning your face in her neck. She gripped your hair and pulled your head back, forcing you to look at her.

“I said, do you understand? You will do as I say. You will obey me. You are mine to control and use as I please. Don’t make me punish you, baby.”

“I u-understand…” your eyes watered a bit, now you were really trapped. She smiled and released your hair, her hand gently stroking your cheek.

“Good girl. I knew you would see things my way. You’re so much more compliant when your brain is turned into mush, isn’t that right? Maybe I’ll have to fuck you more often so you don’t fight me,” she kissed your forehead and pulled you closer to her, wrapping her arms around you possessively. Agatha held you tightly, enjoying the feeling of having you in her arms again. She ran her fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. She could see the gears turning in your head and spoke up again.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to love being mine again. And I’ll take good care of you, I promise. You won’t want anything as long as you’re with me…”

[rosemariiaa]

~Echoes Of You~

pairing- Paige x Azzi

a/n: cute little song fic because we all missed those, and yes i have delivered fluff 💌

song: Pink in the Night - my love Mitski

theme- fluff

Enjoy!!!

Paige can’t sleep again.

She lies in her bed, staring at the ceiling as the pink glow of her nightlight washes over the room. It’s late, probably too late to still be awake, but she’s not in the mood to close her eyes. Not when her mind’s too full of her. She bites her lip, annoyed with herself, the way her thoughts keep circling back to Azzi. It’s been happening more often lately, and she hates it.

“I glow pink in the night in my room,”

Paige thinks, frustrated. It’s stupid how much she’s let this feeling grow—like she’s been blossoming alone over someone she shouldn’t even be thinking about. They’re teammates, just friends. Paige had drawn the line a long time ago, but somehow, Azzi had crossed it without even knowing.

“And I hear my heart breaking tonight.”

She shifts on her bed, trying to ignore the pounding in her chest. The silence in the room makes it worse. Her heart beats so loud, she swears she can hear it cracking. “Do you hear it too?” Of course, Azzi can’t hear it. She’s probably fast asleep in her own room, not knowing that Paige is losing sleep over her. God, this is so stupid.

Paige gets up, hoping to clear her head. She pads down the hallway, not bothering to turn on the lights. When she reaches the living room, she freezes.

Azzi is already there.

Sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up, Azzi’s face is illuminated by the soft glow of the TV screen, but the sound is muted. It’s almost eerie, seeing her there like this, alone and silent. Paige’s breath catches in her throat. She should turn back. She should leave.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she stands awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to say or do. Azzi notices her after a moment, turning her head slightly. “Couldn’t sleep either?” she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige shrugs, her body tense. “Yeah. Something like that.”

The silence stretches between them, heavy with everything unsaid. Paige moves to sit on the other side of the couch, careful to keep her distance. But it doesn’t matter. Azzi’s presence is enough to make her chest tighten. It’s stupid, but she wants to reach out, to close the gap, to say something that would break this unbearable tension. She doesn’t.

Instead, she just watches Azzi, stealing glances when she thinks she won’t notice.

“I could stare at your back all day.”

The thought hits Paige out of nowhere, and she has to bite her tongue to keep from saying it out loud. Azzi’s back is turned slightly, her posture relaxed in a way that makes Paige feel anything but calm. There’s something about the way Azzi carries herself that drives her crazy—not in an obvious, in-your-face way, but in the subtle things. The way her curls fall over her shoulders, the way her lips twitch when she’s deep in thought. Paige feels like an idiot for noticing these things.

Azzi shifts, turning to face her fully now, and Paige’s eyes snap away like she’s been caught. “You okay?” Azzi’s voice is soft, but there’s something in her tone that makes Paige’s stomach churn. It’s like she knows. Or maybe Paige is just paranoid.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Paige lies. She’s not fine. She hasn’t been fine in weeks, but she’s not about to admit that, especially not to Azzi.

They sit in silence for what feels like forever, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. Paige’s mind keeps replaying the same memories over and over again. That one night, 2 years ago at Azzi’s grandparents lake. The way Azzi had looked at her, how close they’d been. They’d kissed, but it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t felt right.

“I know I’ve kissed you before, but I didn’t do it right.”

She wonders if Azzi remembers it too, or if it was just another fleeting moment for her. Paige curses herself for not doing more, for not saying what she really wanted to say back then. She swallows hard, the words lodged in her throat.

“Paige…” Azzi’s voice pulls her back to the present, and there’s something different in it now—something hesitant. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Paige freezes. Her mind blanks for a second, panic setting in. Has she been that obvious? She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Azzi’s eyes are on her, waiting for an answer, and Paige feels like she’s suffocating under the weight of it all.

“I… I don’t know,” Paige finally manages to say, but it’s a weak excuse, and she knows it.

Azzi shifts closer, her gaze never leaving Paige’s face. “That’s not true,” she whispers. “You know exactly why.”

“And I hear my heart breaking tonight.”

Paige’s heart is pounding now, louder than ever. She wants to deny it, to brush it off, but the look in Azzi’s eyes stops her cold. There’s no more hiding. No more pretending.

Without thinking, Paige reaches out, her hand brushing Azzi’s cheek. The touch is hesitant, unsure, but when Azzi leans into it, Paige feels a surge of emotion she can’t control. “I’m sorry,” Paige whispers, her voice breaking. “I didn’t do it right before. Can I… can I try again?”

Azzi’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she nods, her eyes softening. Paige leans in slowly, her heart racing, but this time, when their lips meet, it feels right. It feels like everything she’s been wanting to say but couldn’t. The kiss is soft, slow, filled with all the things they never said.

When they finally pull apart, Azzi rests her forehead against Paige’s. “We’ll get it right this time,” Azzi whispers.

“Try again, and again, and again.”

They don’t need to say anything else. The silence between them feels different now—lighter, filled with possibility. Paige knows they’ll keep trying, keep figuring it out together. And this time, they won’t be alone.

[moonstruckme]

Hii!! I had an idea for soft!eddie x reader… I hope you like it!

So what about soft!eddie x reader that watch a horror movie before bed because Eddie wanted to and reader said yes… but then reader wakes up from a nightmare and gets a little bit paranoid? Like she wants to go get a glass of water, but she’s so scared that she’ll see a creepy face appear out of no where? Or she doesn’t want to look at the windows and that kind of stuff? (When I wake up in the middle of the night, I get so paranoid/scared, I wish Eddie was there 😭) and she finally gets up to get a glass of water and then (in between all of that Eddie woke up) Eddie says something like ‘why are you awake at 2am’ and she has a jump scare, and drops her glass, and basically the adrenaline kicks in and she starts to cry because it’s too much and she was so scared? And Eddie just hugs her and comforts her and he helps her falls back asleep?

I hope all of that made sense… if not… I’m so sorry😭😭

I’m sending lots of love!! Have a good day/night!! 💗💗🫶

- ☀️

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 750 words

It’s a while before you can convince yourself to set one foot on the floor, but the inside of your mouth feels like it’s made of wool and something needs to be done about this. When no clawed hand reaches out to yank you underneath the bed, you take it as a sign of good faith. 

Your footsteps are featherlight and cautious, every dark corner and unshuttered window a threat. An empty threat, you remind yourself, but even the voice in your head is shaky. 

The Munsons don’t have glasses, but they do have an array of things picked up from here and there, plastic cups from restaurants and old containers and one plain mug for Wayne’s coffee. You grab a cleaned-out jam jar from the top shelf, filling it with cold water from the tap. It does the trick, sweet and refreshing on your tongue. You feel instantly better. 

You pad back towards Eddie’s room with a clearer head. It was just a movie. There’s no creeping shadows here, no cloud so thick it blots out the moon. There’s fluorescent light from the street coming in through Eddie’s windows, and families sleeping in the trailers on either side of you. Nothing bad could happen to you here. 

You slow as you get to Eddie’s room, trying to be quiet. 

“Hey.” 

Your gasp is so sharp it hurts a little in your chest. Your body stiffens, the condensation on the glass making it slip from your hand. It shatters on the floor. 

“Shit, what the hell?” 

You turn, and it’s Eddie—of course it’s Eddie, who else would it be?—standing behind you in the dark hallway, a pillow crease imprinted on his cheek. 

“Oh my god.” Your voice comes out breathless, and you press your hands over your eyes. 

“Babe, what—shit, are you crying? Are you hurt?” You shake your head, and Eddie’s hands come around your arms, pulling you towards him. “Careful, don’t step on the glass. I scared you, huh?” 

You nod as he folds you into his chest, scrubbing up and down between your shoulder blades. 

“Yeah? Well fuck, don’t to cry about that,” he says, panic melding back into sleepiness as his voice takes on a fond bent. “I wouldn’t’a hurt ya.” 

“I thought you were the ghost,” you mumble sheepishly into his chest. 

Eddie pauses for a moment. Your face feels ten degrees hotter. 

“Me?” He sounds like he’s smiling. Then he lets go of you, taking your face between his hands, and you know he is. It’s giant and goofy, its own sort of light to combat the dark corners. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m flattered. But no dice.” Eddie shrugs like this is something he can’t help. “All flesh and blood in here, baby. The gross stuff.” 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, embarrassed. Those couple of quick tears have already mostly dried, but Eddie swipes at them with his thumbs anyway, grinning like you’re silly. “I’m sorry I broke your glass.” 

“It happens all the time,” he reassures you. “Don’t sweat it, I’ll clean it up in the morning.” He takes a big step over the glass shards, offering you a hand to help you do the same. Doesn’t let go of it even when you’re on the other side. “Should I be worried that you’re up at 2 in the morning looking for ghosts?” 

“I was getting water,” you mumble, letting him sit you down on the edge of the bed. Eddie gives you a look. “I also don’t really do well with scary movies.” 

“Yeah. I figured that one out when you wouldn’t go to sleep until I closed the blinds.” He grins. You smile back bashfully, and he makes a dramatic groaning sound, hauling you into a hug. “You should’a told me you didn’t want to watch it. I wouldn’t have picked it if I’d known you’d get all freaked.” 

“I didn’t want to be a wuss,” you say. You can practically feel Eddie rolling his eyes over the top of your head. 

“You can’t fight your true nature, babe. But it’s cool.” He flops the both of you over so you’re laying down between him and the wall. “This way, anything that wants to get you will have to go through me.” 

You turn in his arms, pouting. “I don’t want anything to have to go through you.” 

“Then let's go back to there are no ghosts, ‘kay?” He plants a kiss between your brows, snuggling you close. “Sleep tight, scaredy cat.” 

[latin5mamii]

Angel - Jude Bellingham

|WARNINGS: nsfw (not too much you'll have to wait😉) Previous part |SUMMARY:How could you know that a stupid nickname could change everything? |AUTHOR'S NOTE: Long chapter (I know you love me😌) enjoy!

“Girl he’s literally the love of your life, what’s wrong?”

YES, maybe you were overthinking on Jobe's warning. You know that he, being your best friend forever, has always been protective of you. If there had been something wrong he would have told you right away, right?

The first thing you did after Jude left was call your best friend, who was sure to attack you in any way possible. So now you find yourself talking about it with her, and she thinks you're stupid, obviously, but maybe you too start to think that you're a little paranoid.

“You're right, maybe? I don't know what to think either and I'm not even sure I realized what happened."

That kiss, God, couldn't get out of your head. You'd probably been waiting for this moment since middle school, yet you managed to ruin it from your thoughts. You try to practice one of the therapies to banish bad thoughts but it obviously doesn't work.

“Y/N, let me be honest with you: just trust Jude, you know your bond is very strong and I think he wouldn't have kissed you if he didn't want to”

But that's not what you meant, unfortunately. It's obvious that if he hadn't wanted to kiss you he wouldn't have even stayed at your house to sleep, because let's face it, you both knew what would happen. What if he didn't have to leave? You know very well what would happen after that kiss. You didn't even want to confront Jude because you didn't want him to think that you don't trust him. He said he would write to you as soon as possible. Maybe you have nothing left but to trust him. Ok that you study psychology , but not everyone is definitely crazy or plotting behind your back. And anyway you had other things to think about: You probably didn't forget that he invited you to one of his games, right?

"He also invited me to one of his matches, the one in two weeks, I think"

You can hear your friend gasp in amazement, you can hear an envious but playful tone in her voice.

"Are you fucking serious? Lucky you!"

The day continued in a calm, but boring way. You were waiting for a message from him, that's the truth.

 You even thought about sending him a message, but would you seriously have done it? So you tried to distract yourself: reading, studying , trying to do anything not to think about him, about that kiss and the way he could make you feel butterflies in your stomach at any moment. 

(Seriously, could you stop thinking about him for just one minute? It’s like he’s the only thing on your mind. Oh wait, he probably is.)

The moment you finally stopped thinking about it (Or at least you think) your phone buzzed, and you, as if you've been waiting for years, take it right away, and when you read Jude's name on the screen, you can't help but smile and your heart skips a beat.

Jude: Hey Angel, hope your day was as good as mine. I can't stop thinking about you. Lunch was a drag without you.

You couldn't help but smile as you typed back.

You: Hey, lunch was boring here too. I missed you.

(You missed him? It’s only been a few hours. But hey, who am I to judge?)

A few moments later, your phone buzzed again.

Jude: Let’s make up for it then. Are you free tonight?

Your heart raced at the thought of seeing him again so soon.

You: Definitely. What do you have in mind?

Jude: How about we take a trip to the lake? We can have a picnic and watch the sunset.

You:You always know how to make me smile, what time?

Okay, maybe this message was a bit stupid, but as soon as he replies, you can see that this message was appreciated.

Jude:Built for this, ain’t I? I’ll come pick you up at 6?

You: I can’t wait

Jude:See you soon then, Angel.

You spent the next few hours getting ready, packing a small bag with everything you might need for the lake. The excitement built with each passing minute, your heart racing at the thought of spending the evening with Jude.

As the clock neared 6, you were ready and waiting. Jude arrived right on time, his eyes lighting up as he saw you.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, pulling you into a warm embrace. 

"Beautiful?" You say with a slightly embarrassed tone as you rest your head on his chest.

"I can't deny it" An embarrassed smile appears on your face.

The car ride was pretty quiet, but also stressful because of all those awkward silences that happened because of what happened earlier at your house.

When you got to the lake, you settled on a towel and he started staring at you again, not that you didn't like it.

Jude’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Ready for a swim?” he asked, his voice dripping with playfulness.

“Absolutely,” you replied, slipping off your shoes and heading towards the water. Jude followed close behind, his gaze never leaving you.

Once in the lake, you splashed him playfully, laughing as he blinked in surprise. “Oh, it’s on now,” he said, closing the distance between you with a few swift strokes.

Before you could react, he scooped you up, water dripping from both of you. “Put me down!” you protested, giggling.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice low and teasing. He twirled you around before gently setting you back in the water, his hands lingering on your waist.

“Alright, alright, you win,” you said, breathless from laughter.

He grinned, his eyes locking onto yours. “I always do.”

His fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin under the water, sending shivers up your spine.

“Jude…” you began, but his name on your lips seemed to ignite something in him. His gaze darkened with desire as he moved even closer, his breath hot against your neck.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours. The kiss was searing, his hands gripping your waist tightly as if he never wanted to let go. You responded eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer.

The water lapped around you as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate by the second. Jude’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you against him as if he couldn’t get enough. You felt his heart pounding against your chest, matching the frantic beat of your own.

You broke the kiss for a brief moment, gasping for air. But the second you met his eyes, filled with an intensity that took your breath away, you were drawn back together. His hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist, anchoring yourself to him.

"We gotta pick up where we left off this morning, yeah?" he groaned against your lips, his voice rough with need.

You nodded quickly and in an instant his lips were on your neck, leaving significant marks. You let a soft moan from your lips and you know that this is driving him even more crazy. His lips are now on your lips again, in a kiss with hunger. You have been waiting for this moment for a long time, and it has finally arrived.

The feel of his skin against yours, the taste of his lips, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the universe,it was intoxicating.

Jude’s hands moved up and down your body, exploring every curve, every inch of you, as if he couldn’t get enough. You matched his intensity, your own hands tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer.

After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, you finally pulled back, both of you breathless and flushed. Jude rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

You both stayed there for a moment, just holding each other, the water gently rocking you. When you finally made your way back to the towel, he started talking to you.

"My mom... she’s been asking about you. She wants you to come to dinner tomorrow night. She misses you,a lot."

Your heart warmed at the thought. Jude's family had always been like a second family to you, and the invitation really warmed your heart, "I'd love to come," you replied, smiling.

“She’ll be happy to hear that”

He said, caressing your cheek. “Anyway, there's one more thing I wanted to ask you.” A sense of anxiety made you laugh nervously. He looked slightly more serious.

"I have to go back to Madrid the day after tomorrow," After a short pause, he continues, "And I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to come with me."

Now you are sure of the fact that most likely, at this request, your eyes widened and perhaps, your heart might have missed more than a beat. Did it mean that you would sleep together every night? Did it mean that perhaps you were his girlfriend? A question now kept bombarding your head: What are you two?

A couple? Best friends who have gone too far? You don't know how long you've been staring at him without giving him a response, but just the thought of actually staring at him shocked embarrasses you so much that it makes you want to disappear.

"I mean, I want to" You are still slightly shocked by the proposal and can't form a sensible sentence.

Jude starts chuckling at your form of communication.

"You want to? Okay, that's a good start"

"But I'll let you know tomorrow for sure, okay?"

"It's more than okay, angel"

After spending a little more time at the lake, enjoying the sunset and each other’s company, you and Jude eventually packed up and headed back to his car. The drive back was filled with comfortable silence and soft music, your hand resting in his, little stolen glances that made you giggle, is this what it feels like when you're in love?When you reached your house, Jude walked you to your door, his arm draped around your shoulders. As you turned to face him, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling under the porch light.

“Goodnight, Jude,” you replied softly, your heart full as you watched him walk back to his car.

A smile played on your lips and you couldn’t be more excited for what was about to come. You giggled all the way to your apartment and as soon as you got in you flopped onto the bed, stomping your feet excitedly. How can I blame you? You've been waiting for this your whole life.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time: Prologue

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Yes, he’s here again,” your voice creaks as your hand shakes. “Please. I called yesterday…” And every other day for months. Almost a full year.

You peer out between the small space that divides curtain from window. The shadow looms, looking up at you. Your phone vibrates as the operator hems and haws on the other end.

“Are you sure it’s him?” She asks. They always doubt you. Report after report, phone call after phone call, and it’s always question, question, question. You sigh.

“Yes,” your voice peeks as you pull back and hide against the wall. “Yes, I know it’s him. He’s texting me.”

You don’t even need to check. It’s the same thing every time. Next, he’ll try to sneak in the front and be knocking at your apartment door.

“Well, ma’am, you say you’ve called before and we’ve sent a cruiser and we’ve filed reports. And this man keeps showing up, so what exactly do you want me to do now? I can’t issue you a safety order over the phone--”

“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Excuse me? Are you serious? I have an order already and much good it does me. I call you and I get accused of being dramatic and questioned. What I want is for someone to protect me.”

“Ma’am, don’t get abusive with me,” she warns. “Have you tried telling him to go away yourself?”

“Wow, wow,” you throw your hand out. “Really? Really? No, I never thought of it,” you say sarcastically, “is there someone else who can take me call? I really don’t feel safe.”

“If it makes you feel better, I can reroute an officer to you. Alright?” She speaks as if you’re a child. You’re too weak to argue anymore.

“Whatever,” you hang up.

You can’t do this anymore. You need to get out of here. Not that you didn’t think of it before but you can’t afford anything else. Your rent control is the only thing keeping you under a roof. You’ve already switched jobs, just to get away from him. There isn’t that much else up there.

You drag yourself through the shadows and sit on the bed. You exist in darkness. You don’t turn on the lights so he can’t see in. You keep the curtains shut. You only leave for work and always take a different exit, never the same route; not always the bus, not always the train.

And friends? What are those? Most of them took his side, said you were throwing around false accusations, and the others accused you of being obsessed. The single coworker you confided in told you to leave town. Wow, well, if you could afford that, you wouldn’t stay in this building with the grinding radiator and rattling fridge.

You look at your phone.

‘I see you.’ The message was sent while you were on the call with emergency services. Several more followed. ‘I just want to talk’; ‘you look so pretty’; ‘please, I love you’.

As you read each text, you can hear the last conversation you had with Jake. He’s a relic of your former friend group, the very reason for your dejection. It’s almost funny how the rest just cut ties but he won’t let go.

It all started with a kiss. A kiss and rejection. New Years Eve and the clock counted down. You didn’t expect him to turn and plant one on you and when you shoved him away, that dreamy look in his eyes turned to fury as you fled. New Year, New you, right?

The new you is scared and paranoid and tired. So, so tired.

You get up and move the chair in front of the door. Just in case. You retreat, keeping your phone close, and grab the extendable baton from the table. You sleep with both, if you can sleep. That night, you won’t.

You settle in on the couch. You don’t use the bedroom. You need an easy escape. You sit back against the cushions and scroll on your phone. It might be hopeless, but you trawl the job board and the apartment boards. You might find a nugget of gold in all the pebbles.

You sign into the job site and see the red dot in the corner. It’s always a marketing promo. ‘Recommending’ a job you don’t qualify for or an invitation for an MLM scheme. It’s a joke. You don’t understand how anyone ever gets a job but everyone seems to have a better one than you.

You tap the inbox to make the red dot go away. You hate it floating in the corner of your vision. Your thumb twitches and hovers over the screen as you read the subject line. Hm.

‘Caretaker Position: Relocation Required’.

Well, you don’t really have the experience for caretaking but the second part sounds intriguing. You hesitate. It’s too good to be true. You’re sure there will be a list of qualifications longer than your resume.

Tap.

You open up the message.

‘Hello,

We’ve reviewed your profile and determined you might be a match for this position.

New Applicants Welcome.

We are seeking an individual to undertake caretaking duties for a property. This role would include the following:

Lawn care

General cleaning and maintenance

Manual labour requiring lifting of up to 60lbs

24/7 tenancy within property (no rent for chosen candidate)

Subsidized relocation

Training on-site

If you are seeking a fresh start and to learn new skills which can take you into future roles in a custodial or caretaking capacity, this is the job for you. To apply, please submit brief profile and resume for consideration.

Applicants are subject to a background check.’

You bite down on the inside of your lip. It sounds interesting but you’re not sure you’re a good fit. It’s so general, too. Would you need to know how to deal with electrical issues? Your apartment sure has taught you a lot about dealing with broken utilities, but your formal training is lacking.

And it’s a big thing. You want to get out of here but it’s still daunting in comparison to your current predicament.

You tense as you hear footsteps in the hall. You brace yourself and lower the phone, staring at the door. The thumping on the other side makes you flinch. Your heart races.

“Baby, I know you’re awake. Please. I just wanna talk.” He keeps tapping. “If you just talked to me, we could figure this out.”

You shudder and look at your phone again. You stare at the big blue button; ‘Apply Now’.

“I forgive you. For lying about me. Everyone knows you were just upset. I’ll tell them all it was just a misunderstanding…” he begs as the door shakes in the frame, the chair knocking against the handle. All that stands between you and him are those hinges and that flimsy piece of furniture.

You press down on the button. It can’t get worse than this.

[nexysworld]

Summary: Entertained by your desire for freedom, Doma occasionally lets his pet slip away for short bursts of escape. It's a game between you—cat and mouse. But this time, he's tired of playing.

Pairing: Yandere!Doma x Fem!Reader

Tags: NSFW, Smut, Yandere themes, dubcon, blood play, breath play, choking kink, Stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, mild gore, no use of y/n, dark content

WC: 6.2k

Author's Note: This was an Etsy comm that I received permission to convert to x reader and post, which is why it may read a little different from my regular stuff/the sentence structure may be a little different. My first public writing for Demon Slayer, and I love this silly guy. <3 Also big thank you to @dollfacefantasy for beta reading for me.

Read on AO3 || More of my Work

─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───

Your pulse pounded in your ears, the forest whirring by in a blur as your bare feet beat against the ground with each frantic step. You ignored the cramp in your calves and the fire in your lungs, forcing yourself to keep going. This wasn't your first attempt at an escape. Each time, you managed to make it a little farther before being inevitably captured and returned to your prison — the temple.

Every time, you would kick, scream, and pound your fists against his back, desperate to break free. But what good were your useless human limbs against a god? There was even a time when you had resorted to begging and pleading. Your cries fell on deaf ears as that monster had no heart strings to pluck at, to persuade.

It was a cruel game he played, letting you taste a sliver of freedom. He’d plant that tiny seed of hope, watch it grow, and then mercilessly rip it out, leaving you empty and compliant—at least for a while.

This time, something was different.

You had never made it this far in all your attempts. He had never allowed you to reach civilization before. Yet there it was, the hazy orange lights of the village calling to you like a beacon of safety. The stone fence draped in wisteria was a reprieve to the anxiety that bubbled like acid under your skin. You weren't sure if the flower would be enough to keep something like him out, but you didn't have the capacity to dwell on it nor could you afford to psych yourself out.

The moment both feet were planted inside the barrier, you dropped to your knees, rewarding yourself with slow and deep breaths. You half expected the white haired demon to jump out at you, to hear that condescendingly sweet voice tickle your ears. Yet all you could hear was the sound of the early morning birds warbling and the whooshing noise of the trees as they swayed.

When was the last time you watched the sun break over the horizon or the blue sky overhead? It had been so long you very nearly couldn't remember, but you relished it as you watched the sky shift colors from your small spot on the ground.

The village was starting to bustle to life. It was your cue to stand and brush yourself off before you got too many strange looks. Hysteria wouldn't benefit you, you needed to stay calm, find help. Maybe there would be a slayer in the village, or at least a way to contact one.

"Excuse me," you said, trying to get the attention of a passerby. The man shot you a nasty glance, grumbling something as he walked off. Not deterred by the first snub, you wandered about through the streets, looking around to see if you could find anyone of importance who might be able to offer assistance.

The more you walked around the seemingly innocuous place, the more the unease began to creep its way back up your spine, settling as a lump in your throat. ' The sun is up. You're safe, you're just being paranoid ,' you assured yourself inwardly. Despite that, you still couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong — the hair on your arms was sticking up, and you were antsy .

Every person you passed treated you like you were invisible. Not a single person so much as acknowledged you, much less responded when you tried to make contact yourself. It was as if you were a ghost. Even the shopkeepers and artisans setting up paid no mind to you.

Briefly you toyed with the idea of abandoning the place altogether, moving on to the next village. ' But who knows how far that is. I'm tired, and definitely wouldn't last another night in the woods. ' You leaned against the fence that surrounded the center square that made up the crude marketplace while you contemplated what to do. 'Maybe they think I'm from a low station? ' You looked down at your yukata. It had definitely taken a beating during your trek through the woods, but the design and fabric alone indicated its value. Your primary function was to be that monster's plaything, his little dress up doll. You didn't dare to think where the fancy silks and kimonos came from, you just let him adorn you as he pleased. It was easier that way. Regardless, there was no way anyone would just assume you were a common beggar.

Whatever the case may be, it was clear this village was going to be of no help to you. At best, you could hope they would allow you to sleep in one of the common areas until the next day. A beleaguered sigh escaped you, as you stared at the ground.

"Miss, are you alright?" A young man was poking his head out the door of a home, catching your attention.

You pointed to yourself, not believing that he could actually be talking to you given your luck thus far.

"Yeah you," he chuckled. "You're not from around here, and no offense, but you look a little rough."

Any offense you may have taken rolled off you like water on rubber, you were just glad someone's words were directed at you. Someone not a part of that freakish cult. "Yeah, well...it's been a long night. Say, can I ask if there's anyone from the demo—"

"You should come inside," he chirped, taking you by the arm and ushering you into the home.

"Thank you, but —" Again you were cut off as he ignored your words to call upstairs. Two young girls ran down the rickety steps, all giggles.

He patted the taller girl on the head. "Yui, can you please grab the spare yukata and lay it out for her? Ami, will you grab her something to eat? She’s very tired from her travels."

You were about to thank them for their kindness, but that sense of impending doom was signaling off from the back of your mind again. "Thank you, but really I just need to know there's a way to get into contact with the demon sl—"

"Oh, don't worry about it Miss. We've been waiting for you. Master Doma told us to make sure you were taken care of as soon as you arrived."

There it was.

Your instincts had been screaming at you the entire time you were in the village. You had ignored them clinging to false hope, unable to overcome your exhaustion. Now here you were, back where you started.

Like every time before.

"No," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You took a step back from the trio fight or flight mode taking over.

"Miss, hey calm down now," the man said, putting his hands up defensively. "Master Doma just wants us to take care of you, there's nothing to be afraid of. He takes care of all of us, and he wants you to come home."

The pure sincerity in his voice nearly made your gag, had you not been so frightened you would have been empathetic to them. Doma was nothing if not charming, and you understood the ease that came with believing his words, surrendering to them.

You took another step back. The door wasn't far behind you, and that's all you needed. 'Just make it to the door and run. Just run.'

Another step. Then another. The back of your heel hit the threshold, nearly in the clear. Then pain shot through your head, scrambling your brains and short-circuiting your senses. You had never passed out before, and it wasn't pleasant. Your mouth tasted like metal, spots of black decorated the view as you crumpled.

─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───

"Sweetheart, it's time to wake up now." The voice was sugary syrup dripping into your ears, tugging your from tendrils of unconsciousness. You groaned, head still throbbing from where you'd been struck. Bleary eyes met amber as they blinked open. "Look at you my darling pet, your face is all bruised," he tutted as he inspected you.

It took a moment for you to gather your surroundings, brain still fuzzy from being knocked out. You were back at the temple, the familiar colors morphing into the structure that had become your prison. Doma had taken his seat, crossing one leg over the other. "You," he pointed to the person standing next to you. "Come here."

You recognized the young man from the village. The same one who helped lure your back to this place. He stepped forward, bowing respectfully before the blonde demon.

An uncharacteristic pout was plastered to Doma's face as he eyed the man head to toe. "I thought I told you to take good care of her?"

"You did sir."

"Then explain to me why my dear pet's face has been marred? It's so unsightly ." His angelic features twisted into disgust, his voice tinged with bitterness. You weren't sure you'd ever seen such emotion from him before, didn't think he was capable of anything except that eerie smile and sing-song tone. It was unsettling, no it was more than unsettling, it was terrifying.

The man didn't get the chance to answer, the moment his mouth opened there was blood. It happened so quickly, you couldn't even make out what happened. One moment he was there, the next moment viscera all over the marbled flooring and painted wood.

"You were not worth eating," Doma mused, resting his head in his hand. He looked bored with the mess he made.

You knew what Doma was. You had seen the much cleaner aftermath of his meals before. This unbridled gore was new to you though. Your stomach twisted, face scrunching as the tears spilled over. A whimper escaped your mouth, you clamped your hands over it to silence yourself from wailing.

His attention returned to you. "Now doll, what are you crying for? Humans can be so silly. He disobeyed me by marking what didn't belong to him, nor was he worth the meager nutrients attached to his bones. There's no use in weeping for him, my sweet. Wait , perhaps those are tears of disappointment? Don't tell me you were actually expecting a different outcome when you ran off this time." He laughed, hand over his stomach as if he'd just said the world's most amusing thing.

It took him a few moments for the laughing fit to die down so he could speak again. "Or maybe you're scared because you think I might kill you too, hmm?" He tilted his head when he spoke, sitting upright in his seat now. "Have I ever harmed you before?"

Harmed. Had he ever harmed you? Perhaps not overtly or in the traditional sense. You shook your head, hand still pressed to your mouth.

He motioned for you to come to him, patting his lap.

You didn't want to, but the same fear that always guided your bouts of complacency forced your feet forward. You were careful to step around the puddle of blood and up the steps that led to his throne. You slid into his lap, as you always did, like a well-trained puppy.

"Good girl," he praised, ruffling the locks at the top of your head. In spite of yourself, the praise made your chest feel warm, though it did little to ease your anxiety. You hated it. The weird and complex feelings that came with being held captive. He smelled like dragon's blood and citrus, like the red fabric was doused in the stuff. At least it helped to mask the metallic scent from the massacre behind your.

Doma tilted your chin to meet his gaze. "Tell me, why are you so afraid this time? Be honest with me."

"It's different this time." "How so?" "You didn't come get me yourself."

"I did not, why do you think that is?" 

"You're mad at me."

"Not quite," he cooed comfortingly as he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm not mad, I am simply disappointed . I've grown bored with this cat and mouse game that you like to play. I also fear that my dearest pet lacks the proper appreciation for all I've given her." His smile didn't waver despite his words, at least that was something you were used to. "You're a terrible little liar too. You've been telling yourself lies since you ran away. That everything would be okay. That you could actually survive out there without someone looking after you."

His hand moved from your cheek to your throat, holding you in place. It wasn't enough to cut off the air, but it did have your head floating from the lack of blood. His voice lowered to a threatening timber. "The truth is, my dear, you need me. You need me to feed you, clothe you, shelter you, keep you safe and happy. In return, I need you to behave. It's very simple, even someone as woefully pathetic as you can understand, yes?"

He let go, you sucked in a deep breath of air. The world spun around you as the blood rushed back to your brain.

"I asked you a question, do you understand?" 

You nodded. "Yes. Yes I understand."

"Good." Any hint of that venomous undertone gone. He hauled you over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes before making his way deeper into the temple. "I take responsibility for this too. An undisciplined pet is not a bad pet, just untempered . I've indulged your foolish attempts at independence far too long. It's what I get for being so kind." He kicked the door to your living quarters open, dropping you onto the plush futon at the center of the room.

You back hit the mattress with a dulled thud. He towered over you, eyes running down your form as if they were drinking your in, undressing your. You were familiar with the gaze from plenty of human men, even some of the servants that worked in the temple. Never had you seen a look of pure carnal desire from Doma. You didn't even know if demons desired such a thing.

This, like everything that happened in the past day, was entirely uncharted territory for you. You were scared, in a way you didn't know you could be. You regretted running this time, regretted not just cow tailing and letting things be. The devil you did know would've been a comfort compared to this.

─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───

Doma's eyes lingered on you, taking in every detail. The way you trembled against the padded mattress, your hair splayed out over the bedding, soft skin peaking through the now damaged silk fabric. It was perfection. You were perfection. He couldn't remember the last time a human had caught his interest — there was that one girl...what was her name? He ignored the thought, it didn't matter anymore. She wasn't interesting enough to keep around once she panicked, more trouble than she was worth. You though? A different entity entirely.

Unlike the others, you hadn't begged for mercy or screamed in terror, despite how clearly fearful you were. There was something different about you, something that piqued his curiosity beyond the usual fleeting fascination. It made something stir in his chest, an uncomfortable sensation he was entirely unfamiliar with. Something that kept drawing him to you. It was a mild annoyance at first, until your image began prickling the back of his mind at every waking moment. He presumed this was what affection was, in human terms anyway. He couldn't be sure though, he never felt much of anything at all. If he could feel, then he was sure he would be fond of you.

Kneeling, he traced his finger from your collar down to the belt that held your yukata together. "This was fine silk, very rare. Such a shame it's destroyed now, it suited you so well. Can't be helped I guess," he shrugged. "Take it off."

"Take it off?" You repeated the question back to him as if you didn't comprehend the meaning of the words. He'd had servants tend to your whenever he felt like playing dress up, but never had he disrobed you himself before.

"Oh dear, perhaps that head injury has rendered you dumb? No doll of mine should dress in tattered rags. It's unbecoming, now take it off."

You trembled at his words, not wanting to comply. You weren't ashamed of yourself, nor necessarily prudish in nature. However, the mere thought of stripping away your clothing—of exposing yourself in such a vulnerable state—felt like an unbearable invasion of your last shreds of dignity. You hugged your arms around your body, as if trying to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. "N-No." The word felt weird on your tongue. You were never defiant, not directly so. Besides your escape attempts, you had always been obedient.

"How odd," he commented, kneeling down to close some distance between them. "When has my little pet ever refused me?" He didn't expect that response. "Uh uh, this simply won't do," he tutted. "Did I not just explain to you that I cannot allow for your disobedience any longer? And yet here you are, denying me directly to my face. Bad girl. Very bad girl." Doma cupped your face as he always did, a perfect facade of concern.

Your denial made that uncomfortable sensation itch inside his chest again. This was different from before... annoyance ? That wasn't quite right. The fact that even in this moment you were making him feel anything was bothersome. "I don't like repeating myself. Take it off, or I'll remove it for you." He dug his pointed thumbnail into your cheek, dragging it along the flesh, a trail of red in its wake.

The blood looked so pretty juxtaposed against your skin. His cock kicked in his bottoms at the sight. He hadn't much of a libido even when he was human — over the years he assumed any carnal desire had disappeared along with the last shred of his humanity, if any even existed within him. Now he could see that wasn't the case, the appearance of you clearly enough to rouse that desire from deep within him.

Your eyes went wide, your cheek stinging. The warmth dripping down your face was enough for you to realize you were bleeding. You were in shock, unable to move your facial muscles, your vocal cords too tight to scream. Your hands moved on autopilot, slinking up to tug at the belt, undoing the knot. You hooked a finger where the fabric folded over itself, hesitating for a second. His thumb pressed into your cheek again, a warning. You winced, pulling the silken robe open, letting it slide down your shoulders as it went, leaving only your undergarments in view.

Doma marveled at you, the same hand that had assaulted your cheek dragged itself down your jaw and neck, smearing the hot liquid with it. "Such a beautiful thing you are. A canvas just begging to be painted." His pants were uncomfortably tight now, a reminder of the appendage between his legs. A primal hunger twisted in his stomach. This was more than just teaching his pet obedience now. He wanted to mark you, take you in every conceivable way he could. Truly make you his. It was a tantalizing thought.

He tugged at the cloth wrapped around your chest, not giving you the chance to deny him now. It fell off of you with ease, exposing your breasts to the cool night air. Experimentally he circled his thumb around the bud of your nipple, red liquid drying quickly against it. The noise you made was a mix between a whimper and a strangled whine — it sent white-hot need directly to his groin. Doma watched as your skin became taut, pebbling under the touch. He licked his lips, craving more, his mind running through all the different things he wanted to do to you.

You fought the urge to squirm, his touch sending electricity skipping through your veins. Your brain was lagging as it processed the mix of fear and arousal. He looked feral, the salacious smile splitting his face open, his eyes glowing a mix of colors. If there was ever a time he truly looked inhuman, it was now. The monster shook his head as if he were snapping himself out of a haze. "Off with the rest of it. I want to see you, all of you."

You weren't bold enough to deny him twice, you took his blood covered hand and allowed him to help you stand. Their difference in size was far more apparent standing before him. You realized now that most of your time spent with the demon was with him in his temple seat. You were small before him, in more ways than one.

You turned from him, it didn't make a difference. He'd already seen most of your nude form, nor would it prevent him from doing as he pleased in the long run. In the interim though, it gave you some imagined semblance of power over the situation you were in. One last bid at retaining your pride.

"Harlow...you're beginning to bore me now."

It was a warning, you were taking too long. You didn't dare push to find out what would happen if he had to repeat the command this time. You dropped the remains of the yukata, letting it slip down your arms and crumple to the bedding along with the fabric that had covered your chest. All that was left were your underwear. You made quick work of them too, shimmying out of them and kicking them to the side.

You resisted the urge to shield yourself with your hands, his hand was on your shoulder, spinning you around as if inspecting a piece of merchandise.

Doma stopped you when you faced him again. "Sweet little pet," he cooed. His index nail slicing from your breasts to your navel. He knelt enough to run his tongue along the wound, marveling as your abdominal muscles twitched under it. Your blood pure sugar on his tongue. He pressed a kiss just above your pelvic bone, leaving bloody lips imprinted to the skin. His own flesh burned with the need to feel you, be closer to you. "I don't kneel for many, doll," he said, squeezing your hip bone lightly. "You should be honored for the sight. Are you?"

"Yes."

His thumbs dug into you, the feeling making you cry out in pain. If not for his grip on you, and your instinct to grab his shoulder for support, you would have fallen over.

"You can do better than that. Show your master how much you're honored for this gift. How much you appreciate all I've given you, all I plan to give you." His voice softened almost playfully so, "Come on now, show me how good of a girl you can be." Doma pressed a kiss to your thigh, licking up some more of the metallic blood that dripped.

You were more than a little confused, the feeling of his tongue against your flesh made your mind go static. You had assumed that once you were naked and at his mercy, he would simply take what he wanted. It took you a few seconds to muster the brainpower to try and figure out exactly what he was wanting from you. Hesitantly you brought your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks.

It was strange. For all the monster that he was, his skin felt so very human against your touch. His own eyes lust-hazed and locked to yours. There was a sick thrill that came with being desired by someone so dangerous. Even the blood drying against your skin, now cold and sticky was a sensation that only heightened how you were feeling — your arousal pulsed with need.

When he didn’t move to stop you or draw more blood, you took it as a sign that you were doing something right. He was a god—or at least he presented himself as one—so you would offer him a performance of devotion in return. You would tend to him the way temple maidens polished statues and decorated altars.

You pressed your lips against his, your eyes fluttering shut. Doma's lips were soft and warm; if not for the sharp metallic taste of your own blood mingling with the kiss, you could almost forget who it was. It felt good. It shouldn't have felt good, but it did . The kind of good that was strangely comforting, the kind you knew you would yearn for again in your isolation.

He was intrigued by your response, having intended to coax a vocal proclamation from you, instead you'd kissed him. You tasted like mint and honey, flavors that only lingered in his long-since-past human memory. It was delicious, addicting . This was a far better outcome than he initially anticipated.

When you trailed little kisses down his jaw and neck, he had to focus his breathing to remain as stoic as possible. Every touch was the lick of raw flame searing his skin, making his cock kick in excitement. Your hands moved lower, hooking themselves beneath the hem of his red top before pausing.

"May I?" You asked, not moving to further disrobe him without permission.

Doma's eyes blazed with hunger, his lips curling into a feral grin. "Yes, my pet. You may."

You pulled up on the shirt, carefully sliding it over his head and arms before discarding it to the side of them. You smoothed your hands down his pectoral muscles and the hardened abs feeling every bump and divet as you moved. He was carved from marble, body as perfect as one would expect of a god. The sight alone made you want to taste him, not out of fear or obligation but from sheer lust on your end — a scary thought.

He watched you through lidded eyes as your mouth set to work again, lips not lingering in any one place as you blessed each plane of muscle with a kiss. You stopped only when you reached the belt that held his gray pants to his form.

Again you looked at him, silently asking this time.

He patted your head, "Good girl. Go ahead," he encouraged. You looked the prettiest like that, when your eyes were wide, soft, anxious . It made his chest bubble with that weird fuzziness again. The more that feeling manifested, the more he wanted to devour you.

It took a moment for Harlow to fumble with the buckle, but once it was conquered there was nothing but the striped fabric separating you and what was outlined under it. You folded down the waistband, slowly revealing his erection. It was intimidating up close, far larger than you had seen before. The length was pale like the rest of him, the tip an angry shade of pink decorated by pearls of precum that glistened.

You could have attempted to take him in your mouth, but such a simple and baser sexual act wasn't right for this. You couldn't take right now, only give.

Your hands came forward, wrapping around the base for support. You could feel his pulse under your palm through the vein that coiled around the underside. It pulsed in your grasp, and you could hear his breath hitch in the silence of the room. As you had done to the rest of his body, you pressed a kiss to the tip, smearing the white beads against your rosy lips. "Thank you, lord Doma. For allowing me to have the honor of witnessing all of you." You weren't entirely sure you didn't mean the words that tumbled out — not with his scent in your nose, and the primal part of your brain activated.

"Sweetheart," he breathed out, becoming impatient with need, another urge he was only newly acquainted with. Apathy had brewed near immeasurable patience within him in his long life. Perhaps just another thing that made you so special — your ability to draw out all he had to offer. "Look at me."

You obeyed, pausing your actions to meet his gaze.

Doma caressed your uninjured cheek and swatted your hands away from his groin. He took hold of himself, smearing the mushroomy head of his cock over your lips and to the side. The way you winced when it pressed to the cut on your cheek made his balls tighten. Blood and fluid mixing to smear pink along your soft skin like rouge. "So pathetically fragile and pretty, a little mouse doomed to forever be under the cat's paw. I have to confess — I consider you my most prized possession."

It sounded real, his voice neutral not deep with lust nor that flamboyant false tone he used to lure most in. The way he was looking at you coupled with his words wrapped you in a blanket of contentment. Being told you were wanted tugged at the abandoned part of you more than expected. "Thank you," you whispered, your own words equal in their sincerity.

Doma was pleased with this. "Of course, so much easier when you just appreciate what you have, no?" He moved to press your back to the mattress again, using a knee to spread your legs for him. Finally, he received the view that made his mouth water, his ears ring. Your folds pink and glistening with need, thighs sticky with blood and arousal. A sight worthy of a painting.

He pressed two fingers to your swiping upwards to gather the slick. You tensed, toes curling, heartbeat picking up. He missed none of it. He allowed his tongue to swirl around his digits, taking in your flavor. He'd consumed so many humans, but this was the first time he truly relished the taste, savory, decadent, and all you .

"Have your eyes ever wandered while under my care? Were you burdened with lust unable to be quenched? Be honest, I'll be mad if you're not," he warned, leaving one hand on your hip.

"Yes," there was no hesitation in your answer, only a tepid honesty.

"Was I ever the object of that desire?" "No," you whispered it so quietly that he almost missed it even with his inhuman senses.

Sourness encompassed him, a deep cold bitterness mixed with envy. He wasn't surprised by the answer, but it dug into him like claws regardless. His hand tightened, nails digging into you and squeezing so hard he nearly felt your bone give way to his strength. The sound of your agony, the wail of your pain, and the smell of fresh salty tears brought Doma out of his daze. He let go, surprised by his own shift in mood. 

With a sigh, he leaned over encompassing you with his form. "Shhh, shhh," he tried to soothe. He mimicked your earlier actions, pressing kisses along your skin before capturing your lips with his. "I'm not mad." He assured, despite the harshness of his treatment. It wasn't an apology, he wasn't much capable of that — it was as close as you'd get from him though, an admittance that he may have gone too far.

You whimpered softly, your heart still racing from his unexpected display of anger. You pressed your body against his, welcoming and desperate for comfort. You let yourself give in to his touch, anything to dull the searing throb in your leg. Anything to not have him upset, to not see that angry look in his eyes again.

His movements were gentle now, he returned his hand between your legs. Rhythmically he circled his fingers over your clit, keeping the movements going as he spoke. "After tonight, there will be no one else that exists to you, but me. Understand?"

Your only reply was the string of pleasurable whimpers that spilled from you, eyes squeezing shut. You poured your focus into the pleasure until the pain was a dull background sensation.

"That's it, that's it," he cooed.

Your fingers squeezed into the bedding knuckles turning white from the grip. That crescendo of pressure was unforgiving as his fingers never lost their pace, building you up to a peak. Fireworks twinkled behind your closed eyes, white-hot pleasure erupting from your cunt.

He didn't allow you to recover, the blood soaked hand pressed to your throat, cinching the blood that was rushing to your head. Dark spots danced in the corners of your vision, panic made your grab at his arm. Like stone, he was unmovable.

"Uh uh, I thought we'd moved past that now. Submit, pet, you'll only be rewarded for your obedience." He kept you on the precipice of consciousness, never letting your sink underneath the waves, but not allowing you to grab a lifeline either. There was a sense of deprivation, leaving only the ability to feel what you were given — no other thoughts, no way to cry out. Just Doma.

Eager to finally satisfy himself, he slotted his length against your slit and rocked his hips. The head of him bumped into your now overly sensitive bud as he gathered your juices over himself. The contact wasn't the tightness he would soon have, but it satisfied some of the tension that he needed released.

You needed to tell him it was too much, you were overstimulated and felt like you were going to fall off a cliff. Your whole body twitched and writhed beneath his grip. Too much, all of it too much. He released your neck as he slid into your — the air expanding your lungs and the delightful burning stretch as he filled your in one even thrust sent your brain into reset.

A fresh wave of tears stuck to your cheeks, washing away some of the blood and fluid. You looked a complete mess, worn and wrecked. "S'too much," you finally said.

He groaned, the feeling of your velvety walls massaging the whole of him, the vice-like squeeze of you was tantalizing. It was a pleasure that matched nothing he remembered. "No, no, it's far from too much, pet. I would never give you more than you can take," he responded, voice breathy. He leaned over your and nosed at your neck. He adjusted your hips upwards, an easier angle for him to rock himself into you.

"You can handle it. You were made for this... made for me ," he cooed, he gripped your lithe hand in his own.

You squeezed the supportive hand offered to you, legs kicking out as your body bounced with each rut of himself into you. You let yourself trust his assurance, having no other choice and no other way to settle the spiraling world around you.

His thickness rubbed against the most sensitive inner parts, tip knocking against your womb. You felt so full and warm. He leaned back just enough that he could press the palm of his free hand to your belly, feeling himself inside of you. "Feel that? How deep I am, like we're becoming one." He licked his lip, rutting faster.

The feeling of fullness was contenting, allowing the second wave of your orgasm to wash over with less eruption this time. Your back arched and the hand on your belly returned to your hip to hold your steady. The rhythmic pistoning lost its even pace the moment you clenched around him. Doma closed his own eyes, feeling his balls tighten as they bounced off of you with his movements. His cock twitched, and he held you still, burying himself as deep as he could go while he came. Ropes of warm seed painted your insides, as he rolled himself against your in shallow movements — just enough to ride out the ensuing pleasure and aftershocks that accompanied.

Your limbs felt weightless, your mind floating. It was a sense of zen, like the world around you had dissipated leaving nothing but pure blissful sleepiness. You registered his voice knocking at the back of your consciousness, but it was muffled.

"So exhausted, and we only played together once," he patronized as he ran his hand over your head, petting you like a puppy.

When had he pulled out of you, or readjusted them so he was laying at your side? You didn't know. The thought of displeasing him suddenly tugged at you, and you whined in your leery state, not able to formulate much. "Sorry..."

He smiled at that immediate submission, "It's ok, we'll just have to work on it. I know you can do better next time, right?"

"Mhmmm," you mumbled instinctively curled into him. When you were of a more sober mindset, you hoped your carefully calculated revulsion would reappear. For now, you just wanted to fall back into your typical pattern of compliance.

"Sweetheart?"

You didn't want to reply, too tired. His hand tilted your chin to him one more time. "Mmm?"

"Who do you belong to?"

You knew saying the words would manifest them somewhere inside you, but again you found no protest within yourself, the call of unconsciousness too much. "You."

"Who do you need to take care of you?" "You." "Who else exists to you?" "No one."

"Good girl."

[macsimagines]

Ex-boyfriend & Yandere!Ran Haitani

(This is my best one guys i really like it. Please tell me what you think my ask box is open!!! Ms.Mac)

TW: Stalking, gaslighting, abuse, murder Unhinged behavior

Leaving Ran wasn't easy. He never took you seriously when you kept trying to tell him you were done.

Would still show up at your place demanding sex or somewhere to crash after partying too hard.

Its like he wasn't letting you break up with him. You kept trying to make it clear you were over it and he'd just reel you back in with empty promises and sweet lies.

But then he'd go and be an asshole and smack your ass infront of his friends or call you mean names...flirt with other girls in front of you...

You're done officially. You don't even tell him in person, just shoot him a text and move out of your apartment and out of Roppongi.

You choose to block him on all platforms, change your number, you're literally cutting out every piece of him.

Of course, you're not that lucky. It only takes a week or two but he eventually shows up at your apartment demanding to know what shit you think your pulling now.

A fight ensues, you yell and he yells then you're crying and he really thinks he's slick when he tries to hug you. But you shove him away and tell him you want out of this relationship.

The way he looks at you after that is down right unsettling, but he asks you for sex. He really does ask you for "one more unforgettable night." to seal the deal.

Despite all the red flags in your gut, you cave. Anything to get rid of Ran Haitani forever.

Its great. Its actually some of the best sex of your life. It leaves a giant hole in your chest though.

You tell him no kissing, and he actually looks like he might cry, but if he can't kiss your lips he's kissing every other part of you. He treats you like an actual partner. The way he caresses your body burns from how soft it is and the way he whispers about how much he loves you and can't live without you makes you want to cry.

You just want him to fuck you and get it over with, but, the bastard, decides that for the first time during your last time he'll actually treat you like a lover.

When it's all finished Ran lays with you for an hour. You're turned away from him waiting for him to just leave. "This it then? You ain't got shit to fuckin' say to me?"

Fighting back tears you nod. This was a mistake. You can tell from the tone in his voice.

He leans in real close right above your ear and whispers; "You're never gonna have someone like me, you'll never find what we have again. I'm gonna make sure of it, Y/N."

When he finally goes he slams the door behind him and everything in the apartment rattles with the force of it.

And you lie awake that night in fear and heartbreak because you know Ran meant what he said.

It's months before you feel normal again, you've got this weird pit in your stomach that someone's watching you and at night you can feel eyes while you sleep. Things disappear from your apartment and you're starting to feel paranoid.

But eventually your friends convince you its all in your head. Soon you start going out again and trying to meet people.

Keyword trying. It's always one date and then they ghost you, you can't even get a hookup. Maybe people can tell you have too much baggage.

Finally in desperation you go out to a bar. You've got an itch and you're hoping at least one stupid fling will officially make you move on from Ran Haitani.

You meet someone and you're too drunk to care what he looks like, you don't care that his cologne is so pungent it makes you wanna gag, you don't care that he's not even going to take you to a love hotel he's just got you in an alley, you don't care that it's not Ran.

His lips are on your neck and you close your eyes. You try to picture a handsome man, maybe an idol you saw on TV but that doesn't help at all. You pray to god he just finishes quickly but then thankfully you don't feel his lips on your skin.

For one blessed second you hope he lost interest and just left you alone. But when you open your eyes you see a literal ghost.

You almost don't recognize him with his hair dyed and cut so short but its... Ran Haitani.

He's on top of the man beating him to death. The sickening sound of his fists hitting bloodied wet skin is resonating in the alley way.

You can't even stutter out one word too terrified and shocked at the sight before you. Ran has never looked this way before. Just a snarl on his face and his eyes wide and crazed.

When he's done, after the other man has stopped making any noise, dear god is he dead, he looks at you. His eyes are blood red and unfocused. His whole body is shaking but he stumbles towards you on unsteady legs.

Finally, you get your senses a little too late, You try to make a run for it but he's grabbing you and shoving you against the wall. His bloody hands on either side of your face looking you dead in the eyes.

You get a good look at him, the hair isn't the only thing that's changed he doesn't look like he's slept in weeks.

"That's fuckin' it, Y/N," he whispers, voice cracking, "Thats enough, no more of this breakup shit. You hear me, Y/N? DO YOU FUCKIN' HEAR ME?"

You nod, frantically. Tears streaming down your face. You're shaking too scared to fight back.

"Fuckin' cheating. Never thought you would baby, can't believe you'd do this me." He holds you tight in a hug the blood all over him smearing on you as well.

"My own fault. Should'a stuck by closer. You needed the attention, my own fuckin' fault." he kisses the side of your head and you can barely breath with how tight he's holding you.

"Shaking like a leaf. Fucker scared you. He got what he deserved, touchin' you like that. Pretty baby."

You're shivering and sniffling because Ran is what's scaring you, but you don't dare tell him that with his deranged rambling.

"I'll do better, baby, I'll treat you good this time. No one's gonna take you from me..."

Darkness fills your vision and you realize that Ran just knocked you out. Before you're completely unconscious you hear him say something he's only ever said once or twice.

"I love you..."

[gretavanlace]

Sugar II (part 8)

Jake Kizska x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: adult content, language, brief illusions to sex, angst, jealousy, etc.

Only two chapters to go and an epilogue, everyone. I’m so grateful that you have taken this little journey with me. Thank you so much for all your kind words, support, and care. You’re all so wonderful ❤️

“Oh my god, Jake,” your eyes are darting around the room like a mouse with a rabid alley cat slinking, famished and cruel, into its path.

Your unease trumps his delighted gloating instantly, “What do you want me to do, sugar? Tell me and I’ll do it.”

When you steal a glance at the window, longing to climb out and disappear, he hops on the train of your thought process right away, “You want me to duck out?”

You know Jake through and through, and staring into his eyes as your heart drums paranoid vibrations into your rib cage, you’re stunned to watch him offer to give up this chance to square off with whom he has come to see as his most bitter rival. That he would do that for you? That all you would have to do is ask and he would crawl out and wander off into the golden afternoon sunshine like an afterthought…

You really do own his whole heart, you realize at the most inopportune of moments. Your grip on his soul is just as tight as his fingers have always clawed down inside yours…fierce and beautiful in their unrelenting grip.

But haven’t you always known? Hasn’t it always been written across his skin? Etched in his gaze? Sculpted into the bow of his lips when he whispers your name? Evident in his touch?

“No,” you shake your head, willing the mess inside of it to go away, rejecting the thought of him leaving. You want him near, you need him near. To let him go right now, even for a second, seems an agonizing punishment that you cannot bear to suffer. No matter the consequences.

“Stay. But please…” you rush over to him, helping him to his feet while stealing glances at the doorway, “Please just behave and follow my lead, okay? Please?”

”Normally, I like it when you use your manners,” he sighs, smoothing out his clothes, as well as a lock of your hair that has fluttered out of place, “But that’s too many pleases and you look petrified. Why?” His voice is suddenly intense yet careful, as is his grip on your arm, “Does he hurt you?”

They idea is entirely laughable, but there’s no time for that, so you brush him off with a swipe of your hand and a flippant, “Don’t be stupid, Jake.”

Without allowing yourself to think it through, you begin ushering him down the hall towards the front room, but what will you find there? Doom or salvation?

How will these pieces fall together? Something solid and heavy in your heart tells you Jake will do as you have asked and play nice, but another facet buried even deeper inside is rocked with anxiety and screaming that it’s only wishful thinking to believe such a fairytale.

”Hey hon,” jovially rings out as he steps in through the garage, “I saw your car! We’re both home early? Looks like the universe knew how much I missed you!”

Jake turns to catch your eye as you shove him along, but you refuse to meet his gaze. You're unsure of what you’ll find there and this isn’t the time for uncertainties.

Would you find sadness threatening to roll hot tears down his cheeks? Anger threatening to boil over in his fiery chocolate irises? Accusation and resentment for what you’re about to subject him to?

Oh god, you can’t do this! Suddenly, and absurdly, you wish you could fade into the gentle, lush, green paint that you had once rolled upon the hallway walls, paying meticulous attention to detail. Build this home, had been the plan…bury him away under paint and sanded cabinets. Art perched on the walls and throw pillows piled on the bed.

You’d love to disappear and leave them perplexed and confused, wondering what became of you. To vanish into nothing like a dust mote blown away upon the lightest, softest breeze.

You’re a coward.

While your thoughts are busy with that, Jake’s are grappling with each other. Tangled up and struggling. He’d very much like to stomp into the front room and shut this man up. With his booming voice calling out how much he’s missed you like he has some claim over you. Like you’re his. Like he doesn’t understand that you could never really be anyone’s because you’re much too good for this whole goddamn world. That you’re precious, like the rarest of stones and anyone who is lucky enough to hold you in their palm should fall on their knees in thanks.

He sounds so fucking common. Does he think you’re common as well? Jake can’t stomach the thought.

So, yes, he’d like to stroll into the room, casual as you please, and announce that he is taking you away from this ridiculous illusion where you play house and pretend to be satisfied. He longs to tell him how he’s made love to you, how he’s fucked you. How you’ve begged for him and swore no one could ever be him. Jake wants to tell him that the ring he put on your finger has been in his mouth, that he spat it out and you didn’t even care. That you hardly even noticed. Jake would almost kill to watch Mr. Wonderful’s face crumple in defeat and loss…

But he loves you far too much, and to say all those things would hurt you, too.

Scar your heart he will not.

He’s shrugging off his suit blazer when you both appear. It’s a mundane action, one that repeats itself nearly every evening, but you stand still and shellshocked, unable to jolt yourself into some semblance of normalcy until Jake subtly nudges you with a ginger elbow.

“Hi,” you begin, a touch too loudly, “Yeah, you’re early! I actually didn’t end up going to work today. Old friend in town. We went to the movies. And then we came here. He wanted to see the house. I…I told him about it. I was just giving him the tour.”

You sound robotic and ridiculous, but he doesn’t appear to notice. Rather, he looks delighted when his eyes land on Jake and recognition settles in.

”Ah, I know you!” He laughs, marching forward with an outstretched hand. “The almost brother in law. Good to finally meet you.”

His grasp on Jake’s hand is strong and sure as he pumps it up and down. The genuine gladness in his gesture makes you want to tear your own hair out in penance.

Or is it the ‘almost brother in law’ moniker that has made you nauseous?

Yes, that’s what you boiled Jacob down to. You had held nothing back about your relationship with Josh…but Jake? You just couldn’t. To speak of him, to share him that way…it had seemed incomprehensible. And how could you ever put it into words, anyway? How could anyone ever understand what he was to you? What he is to you? No, it had seemed best to keep him locked away, silent and safe in your memories. Tucked away in your heart. The boy in the bubble.

Jake’s face is unreadable as he sizes up this opponent before him. This rival who has just unknowingly stepped into the ring. This blissfully unaware adversary. He is a doe who has wandered idly into the path of a dangerously ravenous mountain lion, and he doesn’t even know it. Ignorance really does seem like bliss in this moment, and you long for it.

“Yes, the almost brother in law,” his tone is slightly clipped, but no one, aside from you - and perhaps his brothers - would ever notice. “That’s me. And you are?”

Here we go. He’s going to love this.

They drop hands and a friendly clap lands on Jake’s shoulder. “I’m Jake, too. What are the odds?”

A sharp, satisfied laugh bursts out of Jake, head tipped back, adam’s apple bobbing gleefully, and you long to tell the smug bastard to just shut the hell up, but it’s over quickly enough.

”Yes,” he sighs, with a shake of his head that ends in his eyes blazing holes into your soul, “What are the odds?”

”’Course this one over here calls me by my middle name, James. Says it fits me. No one else does, though, so choice is yours. Man, it’s so great to finally meet you.” He’s prattling on now, never having met a stranger, “You know we’ve got all your work over there in the case. You’re a hell of a guitar player. I tried to learn in high school, mostly to impress girls…never could get it. Anyway…”

Jake is eyeing him like he doesn’t know what to make of this man standing there, cordial and warm, tossing out compliments and bids for conversation.

His eyes are traveling over this unfamiliar being, now so tangible and real, who has had his hands all over you. Who has had his mouth pressed to your precious body, who has whispered against your skin, who has made love to you in the still of the night, and held you, and rested beside you, breathing in tandem. Who has gotten down on one knee and asked you to be his wife.

And you said yes...you said yes.

He wants to hurt him. Both physically and emotionally. He wants to level him. To crush him into nothing. And though this Jake, James, or whatever his name is, isn’t to blame, he wants it all the same. He wishes he could lure him into his palm like a revolting insect and squeeze until he was no more than something vile to be wiped away with a Kleenex.

Instead, he tilts his head in the direction of the vinyls and shrugs off the accolades, “Fuckin’ Zeppelin cover band.”

James laughs uproariously and gestures into the room welcomingly, “Why are we all standing around like this? Have a seat…please. Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink? Water? A beer? Whiskey? I know it’s early, but special occasions call for special circumstances, I always say.”

Eyes on you, he shrugs out a response that would be lost on anybody but you, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

Once you’re alone for a moment, he shakes his head with a gorgeous, if not self-satisfied, smirk sparking to life upon his face. “His name is Jake? Oh, sugar…” he’s laughing softly now, and sinking down into the cushions of the couch, “creature of habit, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

”Shut up!” You hiss, eyes flickering towards the kitchen doorway, “Coincidence. That’s all. Don’t be so fucking full of yourself. Now, please just be nice.”

He quiets down, drawing the back of his forefinger beneath his eye dramatically as if he has laughed himself to tears, “I’m being very nice and you know it. Don’t push it.”

You sit, as far away from him as the couch will allow, but instantly he’s leaned in close. “What do you think he would do if I got down on my knees right here and buried my face in that gorgeous little cunt of yours? Showed him how it’s really done.”

”Jacob!” You barely make a sound as you admonish him with a clipped shove to settle him.

He slinks back into his seat with another laughing shake of his head, “This is perfect.”

”I hate you.” You lie.

”Sure you do, sugar,” he winks, crossing his legs to get comfy, “Sure you do. Almost brother in law, huh? Is that what I’ve been reduced to?”

He’s still chuckling quietly to himself while a strange mix of panic and tears begins to churn around inside of you like a slow moving summer storm. He’s gearing up, you can feel it, and the thought of it all is too much, your metaphorical knees are beginning to shake. This could end so, so badly.

“Later, Jake…” you’re beseeching without shame, pleading with your watery gaze. “We’ll talk about it later. Please just stop.”

His palm cradles your cheek so softly you wonder if anyone has ever touched someone as gently as he touches you, “Settle down, baby. I won’t make trouble for you.”

How laughable that he can’t seem to recognize that you’ve brought this trouble on all by yourself. No help needed.

He has moved to create a respectable distance between the two of you by the time James is sweeping back into the room bearing a tray flush with drinks and snacks.

”Here, sweetie,” he drops a kiss upon the top of your head, presenting a glass. “Made you a mimosa…I know you like to keep it light through the week.”

You somehow manage a thank you and sip at the sweet, bubbly mix, praying it calms your frayed nerves.

”For us,” he extends the tray and you watch as Jake plucks a low ball glass from it, “bourbon. Unless you’d rather browse the bar. Plenty to choose from.”

”Bourbon is fantastic,” Jake nips at his glass. “Thank you.”

There is a palpable disdain hovering around Jake like a murky aura, but there is heartbreak there too. Aching and black. Heavy and weighing down the light that normally follows him around like a strange shadow…and you’d give anything to take it away.

For just a breath, you intend to do just that. To rise to your feet and stomp all over James’ open, trusting heart. To tell him the truth. To tell him you’re leaving. You nearly take Jake by the hand and drag him towards the door and leave everything else behind without explanation…simply to end his suffering.

Your lips nearly part to say the words when you’re cut off.

“Oh. I almost forgot,” James leans forward in his chair and grabs for your hand, absently running his thumb against your own, “Erin called. She said you guys had a great time the other day, said you’d planned something for this weekend? Wedding planning?”

Erin. His sister. You’ve grown close but it wouldn’t hurt to leave her behind. It wouldn’t even sting…not for Jake.

You squeeze his hand with a tiny smile and fight rolling nausea at the mere mention of the wedding in Jake’s presence. From the corner of your eye, you watch him tense, but he recovers quickly and drains his glass to the dredges in one pull.

”Well,” suddenly, he’s on his feet. “I’ve taken enough of your time today. It was good to see you.” His eyes are unreadable and shift quickly away from your own. “James, good to meet you and thank you for the hospitality.”

”Don’t run off on my account,” James is on his feet now as well, “We’d love to have you stay for dinner. I make a mean chicken Kiev, and…”

”No,” Jake interrupts, gaze jumping towards the door as if he can’t get away fast enough. “I’ve got a flight to catch in just a few hours, need to head back…you know how it goes.”

He sounds ineloquent and so unlike himself… and you can feel it - his heartbreak - in your bones as though you’ve crawled inside his body and curled up beside it like a clinging lover.

“Jake,” you can’t seem to move from your seat, your body uncooperative and rebellious, “Your car is still at the theater, let me drive you…”

”Drive me?” He is staring at you, white hot and desperate…the mask is finally slipping. He has played pretend all he can for the day. “And then what?”

”And then…” again, you are a coward. A fucking coward. “I don’t know. What do you mean, and then?”

The room is silent for a beat - with words unspoken crashing into the space between yourself and Jake, and James struggling to understand this strange exchange.

With the slightest nod of his head, Jacob silently encourages you. Urges you. Come with me, sugar…it seems to say, come home.

But still you sit, frozen and paralyzed. A horrified doe staring down the hunter’s muzzle.

Another nod, clipped and more obvious this time, responds to your inaction. “I’ll walk. Again, thank you for having me.”

The door closes behind him in a blink, and he is gone. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined him completely…

Looking down at your shaking hands in your lap, you realize you never even made it to your feet. You sat, unmoving, and watched him go.

~

Hours later, you’re standing outside an unfamiliar door, anxiously clutching at the straps of the bag tossed over your shoulder.

And when that unfamiliar door swings open, your heart unclenches, for there he stands. Showered, smelling of soap and warmth, hair curled into dampened, loose ringlets, beat to hell jeans riding low on his hips.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “If it isn’t Mrs. Wonderful…”

“Hi,” it comes out meek and small, but flush full of the comfort that is being near him.

”How’d you find me?” His arms cross loosely, with a faded smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

”Were you hiding?” Why hasn’t he turned to lead you in?

”From you, pretty girl?” He scoffs as if the very idea is preposterous. “Never.”

Yet, on he stands as though barring your entrance…as though he intends to send you on your way any moment.

”I called Josh,” you offer, wringing at your bag’s handles idly, simply for something to do with your hands. “He told me where you were staying.” Your gaze skitters over the house. “It’s nice. Cozy.”

He nods, “Airbnb. You mentioned something about us always being in hotels, before. I thought, if there was a chance I’d be hosting you, you might like something a little more…domestic. Though, I see now that you have plenty of that going for you already, right? Domesticity?”

“Do I deserve that?”

His shoulders hunch inwardly slightly, he knows you’re right, and he knows he’s being a bit of an asshole as well. “No, I suppose you don’t.”

”Are you going to invite me in? I feel a little stupid standing out here.” Vulnerability seems of such insignificance when it is Jacob in question. He knows your bare soul so well anyway.

Still, he allows you to dangle on his string, twisting languidly in the soft, evening breeze. “Why’d you call Josh to find me? Why not just call me? Missing my better half now that you’ve had a bit of fun with me?”

Now there’s a slight irritation traipsing along your nerves, and damned if you’re going to mask it. “Alright, either let me in or tell me to go to hell. I’m not going to beg for your good graces.”

”Are you coming in to stay? Or are you here to say goodbye? Because my heart has had enough for one day.”

”Oh, fuck off, Jacob.” You huff, pushing past him into the house. You slump your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor and then turn on him. “Sorry to have interrupted your pity party, but what did you think was going to happen today? Did you think it was going to be spectacular and wonderful to walk around in the life that I live with someone else? You practically fucked me in the bedroom I share with him. You lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree when you realized he was home. You wanted this, and you know what I think your problem is? I think you liked him.”

”Fuck you!” He slams the door closed and looks you over like you’ve lost your mind entirely. “You think I liked him? I couldn’t give a fuck less about him. He made my skin crawl. Do you know what it was like for me to watch him touch you? The way he looked at you…”

He falls silent and suddenly refuses to meet your eyes, and your heart breaks right alongside his.

Tentatively, you reach out and rest your palm against his cheek, “The way he looked at me doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It never really has.”

His hand floats up to meet yours, “He looked at you with so much love. Like he would give you the entire world. It made me feel not good enough. It made me feel like I should leave and let it be. Like I was wrong for showing up and rattling your whole life around.”

You’re backing him up against the door now, his gorgeous, stricken face held fast in your sure and gentle hands. “Not good enough? You? Oh, Jakey…” you pet at his face worshipfully, “We have a garden, remember? And you help me harvest, and I know you feed me those tiny tomatoes I like. You know? The little yellow ones? And they’re all gone before we even get inside.”

He’s nodding along as you pepper kisses upon his cheeks and forehead.

“And we have a porch swing, and a piano, and beautiful babies, and a cat…and you sing to us, and love us hard every single minute of every single day. And you make us so, so happy. And I wake up every morning with a smile on my face because I packed this stupid bag,” your foot darts out and kicks it, “and shoved my way inside when you refused to invite me in.”

”Don't say things you don’t mean, sugar…” his hands are in your hair now, guiding your mouth to his own so that he can lick inside it. He needs to taste you - needs to feel the silken velvet of your tongue, “I can’t take it, baby.”

You’re breathing each other's breath, lips like feathers dancing together soft and sweet, holding on to one another as if you might both just vanish into nothing in an instant, “I mean it, Jake…” you promise, “I mean it. You are everything,”

You can almost hear the pounding of his heart as the heat of his need begins to radiate and warm you, “Because I can’t stand the thought of leaving, of thinking you’ll follow, only for you to change your mind. It would kill me, sugar. So, please don’t say these things to me if you—“

You silence him with a deep, feverish kiss and then break away, forehead to forehead, “I’m not following later. I’m coming with you. This is where I am now…with you.”

Tears well in his eyes and spill over, hot and saline, as you lick and kiss them away. “I love you, pretty girl…” it chokes out of him, rasping as he swallows thickly, “I love you so fucking much. I’ve imagined this moment in so many different ways, but it was never as perfect as this. Tell me you know how much I love you.”

”I know, and I—“ it is he who interrupts with a desperate kiss this time.

And you know that later he will ask, and when he asks you will tell him what was said back at that house that broke his heart in two - how you ended things with the one who really never mattered at all…

…but for now all that matters is the taste of him on your lips. His air-drying hair looped through your searching fingers. Your hearts and lungs syncing, with his tears like brackish diamonds in your stomach because you have finally swallowed his sorrow and unburdened him from it.

He seems lighter in your arms already…closer now to the sun than he had ever been to the moon before.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama

[sanguineterrain]

Hi I’m back because couples who aren’t together just yet are EVERYTHING

And the new theme?? The icon?? Sanne 😍

May I request “you matter so much to me” with Dick? A little angsty if you’re feeling it?

hey there!!! thank you hehe i felt it was time for a theme change bc fall ❤️ hope you like it! thanks for sending a request 🥰

dick grayson x gn!reader. tw: reader is injured but not much description of the injury, mention of bombing, dick being a protective sweetheart, love confession.

****

You're probably being paranoid.

You probably don't need to call Dick. He'll definitely be busy right now. And you call him way too much as it is.

Wally had asked last month if you two were dating, which had been a humiliating conversation, so you've been vigilant about not clinging to Dick so much. You're just friends. That's all you'll ever be.

These two guys at the train station are really freaking you out, though. What do all the posters say? See something, say something?

You take a deep breath and dial.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dick," you say tentatively.

"Hey!" Dick says, sounding slightly breathless. "Hey, how are you? I've missed you, what have you been up to?"

The smile in his voice makes you ache. Fuck. You should've just called an Uber.

"Hey. I'm okay. Sorry for not calling, I've been, uh, swamped at work."

"That's okay. It's nice to hear from you."

You melt. "It's nice to hear from you, too."

One of the guys across the station tosses a duffel bag inside of a storage closet and closes the door, then locks it. Right. Back to why you called.

"Dick, I think these two guys at the train station might be up to something. I could be wrong! I-I'm probably wrong, but—"

"What are they doing?" he asks, and you can hear him shifting to Nightwing Mode.

"They threw a duffel bag into a closet, but they don't look like workers. And—"

One of them lifts his coat, and you see a holstered gun. Shit.

"Oh my God," you whisper. "One of them has a gun."

"Get out of there," Dick orders. "I'm on my way. I'll pick you up. Meet me on the corner of Mason and Jewel."

"Okay," you say, heartbeat rabbiting. "Okay, um, Mason and Jewel. Got it."

"It'll be okay," he says, a little gentler this time. "I won't let anything happen to you, alright? Go somewhere where there's a lot of people, and stay on the line."

You take a deep breath. "O-okay. I trust you."

You head for the stairs when the ground rumbles under your feet. People begin to shout and you run faster, trying to make it out of the station.

"What's happening, honey? Talk to me," Dick urges.

You hardly register the honey in your panic.

"The ground's shaking. Dick—"

Something knocks into your back and you crumple to the floor, phone falling from your hand. Everything goes black.

****

You open your eyes to blackness, and for a moment, you're afraid you've lost your sight. But then the shadows become clearer, and you can make out distinct, albeit dimly lit, shapes.

You try to form a word but the air has been sucked out of your lungs and it sounds more like a wheeze.

The surface beneath you is soft and firm. There's a blanket over your shoulders.

You rasp out a sound that's an attempt at 'hello.' Your lips are cracked, and your throat feels like you chugged cement.

A hand rests on your forehead. You try to sit up.

"Easy, easy. Don't try moving just yet."

Dick is in his Nightwing suit, but the mask is off. You blink at him slowly. You'd almost forgotten how blue his eyes are.

"Can you tell me your birthday?" he asks, continuing to stroke your face.

You tell him your birthday. Your throat feels like sandpaper, and a straw is pushed to your lips. You drink the water greedily.

"Wha' happ'd?" you ask.

"There was a small bomb. Half the station collapsed." Dick sucks in a deep breath and seems to steel himself. "You, um, you hit your head pretty hard. I found you and brought you back to the Batcave. I want to monitor you overnight just in case."

Your eyes widen. "Batcave?"

Dick smiles. "The one and only. I'll give you a tour later."

You frown. "Shouldn't you be out there?"

"Oh." Dick rubs his neck. "Well, uh, the others have got it pretty much covered. But I can give you space, if-if you're tired or something. Uh, Alfred's upstairs if you need anyth—"

You shake your head. "Not kicking you out, Dickie. Just don't wanna keep you from important stuff."

Dick leans in, looking at you intently.

"You're important."

You smile and look away, belly swooping at his seriousness.

"Oh. Thank you, Dick."

"I mean it," he says fiercely, then swallows. "You are... you're one of the most important people in my life. You matter so much to me. I should've said so earlier, and I guess today was the kick in the pants I needed."

You turn to him, eyes wide. "What are you saying?"

Dick slips his hand into yours, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

"Every day, I see how fragile life is," Dick says. "Witnessed it for myself, too. I can't—I don't want to pretend that I don't care about you as much as I do. That I don't wish we were more. And if you don't feel the same way, then that's okay, but I needed to say something before—"

"Dick," you murmur.

He stops. "Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

He blinks once, twice, then wastes no more time. Dick cups your jaw with both hands. It's almost overwhelming, the way Dick Grayson kisses you like you're the only person in the universe.

His hair is just as soft as you imagined, and you tangle your other hand in it, massaging the base of his neck. Dick makes a quiet whine in the back of his throat, and you hungrily swallow the sound.

"Ahem."

You flinch apart, and Dick covers his mouth. He glances at you through his lashes, and the look promises that he's not finished with you.

All excitement about said promise self-destructs when you see Batman standing ten feet away. Even under the cowl, he looks unimpressed.

"Nightwing," he says. "Taking care of our patient?"

Oh God. You're never setting foot in Gotham again.

"Excellent care," Dick says, apparently used to Batman's cheek.

"Hn. I expect a report of the station incident tomorrow."

"Of course. Do you need me out there?"

"No. It's handled." Batman looks at you. "You are welcome to join us for dinner."

He swooshes away with a truly unnecessary jump into the Batmobile. You wait until he's gone before groaning and putting your face in your hands.

"Oh my God, I just made out with you in front of Batman. I can never face him."

Dick pulls you into his arms, kissing your temple.

"Are you kidding? He basically just welcomed you into the family. I knew he'd like you."

[kxxkiecxre]

・❥・ Trapped Hearts || Jeon Jungkook ・❥・

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: Jungkook is a good guy, you know that… he’s just stuck on you and won’t leave you alone. Maybe you should be concerned, maybe even run. Deep down however, you know you love this.

WARNINGS: 18+, stalker au, stalker!jk, stalker descriptions.

Part two: a life that’s so carefree

It’s been weeks, months even, since you broke you with him. Yet he still feels so close to you. So personal. It’s haunting the way you can feel his soft touch lingering on your skin as if he’s still around you. Maybe he is? You’ve been suspicious of this for awhile, every time you walk anywhere you feel him around. Or more like someone’s watching you. Every step you take, even in the comfort of your own home.

It’s gotten to a point where you slept with all your windows closed, blinds too. You loved having the window cracked open during the night for fresh air, but ever since you broke up with Jungkook you’ve had this eerie feeling of being watched. Your friends told you multiple times it wouldn’t be surprising if someone did stalk you, just because a lot of the men you were with before would become overly obsessed. You weren’t sure what it was that made them insane when you’d break up with them, but then again, men are truly just creatures of habit. Weak, shy and frail despite their stereotype or image. They’re emotional. Like little puppies who need constant care.

You walked home alone, the night dark and silent as you walked the familiar path towards your apartment complex. Large fluffy trees surrounding you either side of the pathway. The grass around you was wet and freshly cut, providing that that comforting smell. The street lights hued your figure in an orange cast, your features extenuated under the shade of deep amber. You looked behind your shoulder, that unsettling feeling of being watched present once again.

Your hair got caught in your reflective lipgloss, your red manicured fingers brushing them off your face. Your brows furrowed before you quickly turned to face the road ahead of you again. You wore a much simpler outfit tonight, black fishnet tights, studded with little crystals that could never outshine the sparkle In your eyes, your dress was a deep burgundy color, it looked like the velvet dress he bought you. The valley of your breasts lightly covered with the black lace hem. Your body was covered with a black leather bomber jacket, hair flowing effortlessly over your body.

You looked beautiful as always and it made him throw his head softly against the tree. Sighing to himself. Has he gone insane? He’s never been like this over anyone but you. Watching your every move, making sure you’re safe. You’re okay. It was freaky. He was freaky. It wasn’t cute, to be this obsessed with you. He was drooling just at the distant sight of you. God he was pathetic.

When you got within safe distance for him to follow you again, he wasted no time to catch up with you. He was dressed in his washed out baggy jeans, blue hoodie covering his face and posture perfectly. He still kept a good distance away from you. Still, seeing a man walking in dark clothing behind a woman who’s vulnerable, it spooked you. You walked faster, as fast as your legs could take you in your black heels. Out of instinct sharing your location with not only your friend Laura, but with Jungkook too, you knew he’d protect you if it came to it.

You: someone’s following me, a man. Call me in ten minutes. If I don’t answer after the third ring, call the police.

SEEN

Jungkook: got you b

You continue walking as fast as you could, practically breaking your ankles as you ran up the stairs of your porch. You locked the doors behind you, quickly running around the house to close all the blinds. You sat on your bed now, head in your hands. You’re too paranoid. The ringing of your phone is what makes you jump. Jungkook.

You answer the phone, his voice was low like he was whispering, “hello?”

“Hi”

“Are you okay? Did the creep stop following you?” He asks, standing directly across your bedroom window. Leaned up against the far wall, one foot up against it behind him, his hoodie still covering up most of his face as he held the phone to his ear. Eyes never leaving the silhouette of your figure pacing your room behind the blinds.

“Yeah,” you sounded panicked, “I mean I didn’t look back I just went home straight.”

Fuck, he’s such a prick.

She sat across you brows furrowed and eyes concerned, “did you report it to the police?”.

“Come on now Yuna, you know well the police don’t give a shit unless I know who the person is or have evidence.”

She nodded, stirring her cappuccino as you held your own between your palms, “so what are you going to do?”.

Your eyes frantically scanned the room, full of anxiety, “I’ll share my location with you and Laura and Jk, at all times.”

He stood leaned up against the black marbled wall holding up the tall building, away from your vision still he could see you perfectly. You were inside your favourite little cafe, with Yuna of course. You talked fast, your eyes skittish as they danced around the room every few seconds, probably spooked from last night. He watched as you raised the white mug to your lips, your tongue darting out to lick the foam of your lips.

He watched you with pride, with so much love even though what he was doing right now was far beyond creepy and disgusting.

Yuna decided to walk you back to your workplace, “you need to invest in a car y/n, if worst comes to worst, you can run the creep over.”

“If only I could afford one” you chuckled lightly.

You threw yourself into work immediately upon coming to your cubicle, spending hours calculating numbers and statistics, percentages and such that one major company may need. It was exhausting, but it also stopped your brain from overthinking. Stopped you from thinking about your potential stalker, whoever it may be.

If only you could see him, know who it is. You’d kill him with your bare hands. That’s a lie, but you’d still like to believe you’d fight against the creep. Your manic working was interrupted by your co-worker tapping you on the shoulder,

“I’m sorry, there’s some guy waiting for you outside? More like demanding to speak with you.”

You frowned, a guy? The only guy you know is Jungkook. A bit afraid it might be your stalker waiting for you, to kidnap or maybe even kill you or something.

You turned to your co worker, “tae? Would you mind going down with me?”

Taehyung doesn’t question, he simply nods with sincere eyes.

The walk down to the bottom floor had your stomach doing flips, nerves running rampant as if you were willingly walking into a trap. Your heart settles down a little when you see Jungkook, leaning against a shiny white Mercedes. A new car?

“Kook? What you doing here?” You asked, voice still so sweet and soft.

“I came to bring you your new weapon.”

He holds the keys in the air, your eyes close to popping out of their sockets. You meant well when you told Jungkook you’d remain only friendly with him after the breakup, but this man must not know what friendly is.

“Thought you’d benefit better from it, if worst comes to worst you can run the creep over.”

The sentence he says is exactly, word for word, like Yunas from earlier today. It sends a little shiver down your spine but you ignore it and smile at him, “kook-“

“Shut up and take it Y/N, I owe it to you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Clearly I must have done something wrong to lose a woman like you..”

“Jungkook, I broke up with you because of personal reasons. Nothing to do with you.” A lie… it was everything to do with him. His mother to be precise.

He was loaded. So were his parents and you were just a middle class girl living in your mums old home working a job that pays well.. at least for interns. Still it didn’t sit right with his mother, she kept accusing you of leeching off of him. Which was now where near the truth.

“I won’t leave until you take the keys Y/N.”

Shaking your head you take the keys, “I’m only borrowing it.”

“Sure” he laughs.

You came home early once again, only this time all the lights are on in your house. What the fuck? With a fastening heart rate you press the accelerator down, going thrice the speed limit but you couldn’t care. Not when you were two seconds away from breaking down. Doing a loop around your village you finally end up at your destination.

You knock wildly on the door, tears forming in your eyes, the door doesn’t open. No one answers, he must be asleep. The rain starts lashing, soaking the cotton dress on you printed with little lilacs. Your hair drenched in the rain. You pull the top of the vase of the little flower off, finding the key to his fancy apartment. You waste no time entering his home without his permission. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind anyway.

The place is dark, not a single light on. You turned the hallway lights on, “Jungkook? It’s me Y/N”.

You run around the apartment, turning on every light on your way. Nothing. Finally, you enter his room. You turn the light on, nobody’s there once again. You take a look at the room, it was messy, some type of pictures laying scattered all over the floor. You bend down, sniffling they’re just selfies of him. You smiled softly at the picture of him with his head against a tree in the dark of night “weirdo”.

You sniffled again, you’re definitely getting sick. You raised yourself back onto your feet. Walking around his room and cleaning up the scattered papers and pictures until you find his opened laptop. Your breath hitches, eyes widening and jaw slacking as you scroll through the pictures. It was you. The pictures of all the times you felt you were being watched, you in front of your mirror in your room, you walking through the little park on the night you texted him about someone following you. You were looking behind your shoulder. You in the cafe. You in your work place. You, you, you. Every picture was you. As you closed the tab, his wallpaper was you in the pub dancing. That same night he was following you through the park.

You felt sick the more you looked through his stuff. The selfies, they were all of him taking pictures of himself outside of the places you were. What the fuck. You were going to get sick, holy shit. You rushed out of his apartment, dizzy and nauseated. Holy fuck.

As you run down the stairs he walks up around the corner, your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N?”

You got stuck, you mumbled something incoherent before you finally spat it out, “I was just gonna come up but nobody was answering the door.”

“Sorry I was out with Jin, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I have to go though, Yuna got drunk again so I have to pick her up.” You chuckled nervously.

“Okay… stay safe? Call me when you’re home.”

“Yeah absolutely.” You smile quickly at him before you rushed back to the car.

The car he gave you … incase of the creep. The more you struggled to breathe the more you became nauseated. Quickly, you pulled out of his driveway. Heading straight back to your place.

The first thing you do after locking your door was throwing up in your toilet. Your breathing was harsh as you slid down the wall of your bathroom. He was right there, all along. He was the one who was your stalker. Right under your nose. It made you feel another wave of nausea. Trying your hardest to not breakdown.

Why would he do that though? Why would he make you so scared, so anxious about going out living your day to day life became a nightmare. Because of him. Fucking hell.

You took a couple deep breathes before you got back up. Pulling your hair into a ponytail, you stripped yourself off of your soaked dress. Slipping on your leggings and sweatshirt. You were about to press the call button, to ring Yuna. Until a series of knocks echoed through your house. A shiver ran down your body, that dreadful nauseating feeling taking over your body once again.

You entered your living room, watching the door as he continued knocking.

“Baby, cmon, let me in.” He called out in his innocent voice.

“It’s not at all what it looks like, I promise.”

The thunder rolled right after his sentence, lighting up your rather dark living room in a shade of blue.

What do you do now?

A/N: hope yall enjoyed this little Drabble :).

I DO NOT ALLOW ANY TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF MY WORK.

masterlist

[blushweddinggowns]

It had started as a rough few weeks. A rough few weeks that turned into a rough few months. It was weird, because in all honesty when it came to social standings, Will was doing a lot better here than he ever did in Hawkins. There were no Zombie Boy stories following him here, and he even managed to get a few girls to have a crush on him. He…still wasn’t quite clear how that worked out and he really wasn’t a fan of it. But they were also the only people he could talk to at school. He was way too paranoid of getting close to any guys. God forbid he got another crush on a friend, having none of them just seemed like the better course of action. 

It didn’t help that Mike had basically stopped acknowledging that he existed after they moved. He didn’t write to him, he didn’t call him, and it felt like the only time he heard his voice was when he politely asked for El over the phone. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. Especially when he still put in so much effort to get ahold of El all the time. He’d resent her for it if he could, but the only one who was having a worse time than him with the move was her. Maybe Mike was a shitty friend to him, but at least she had someone to talk to. 

But whatever. Lucas and Dustin cared, and so did Eddie and Steve. And when Jonathan wasn’t busy being high as hell, he had him too. Even Max called him more often than Mike did. Even when she was just trying to get ahold of El she’d take the time to ask him how he was, a courtesy that his best friend from freaking kindergarten couldn’t even offer anymore. 

So maybe Will didn’t have many friends in California yet, but he didn’t feel very lonely. 

Just a little heartbroken. 

But he could get past it. Especially when some of his favorite people were only one phone call away. Sometimes it made him feel a little guilty, that Steve and Eddie were his go to for talking about his problems. Especially since Jonathan was always trying to get him to open up. Even when he was zoinked out of his gourd he never failed to ask Will how his day was. Though…he did have a hard time following the plot when Will told him. 

But that didn’t change the fact that Jonathan always wanted to help. But what could Will say? I’m depressed because I’m in love with my best friend who doesn’t care about me? And oh yeah, I’m gay? Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to happen. If Jonathan of all people hated him for that…he’s not sure he could recover. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t think about it.

It was kind of pathetic, but he’d fantasize about it sometimes. Coming out to his family, everyone smiling and saying they’d love him anyway, no matter what. And if he was being honest with himself, it was technically possible, right? His brother had never said a bad word about Steve and Eddie. His mom never failed to shut the homophobic crap down when his crappy sperm donor had still been around. But it was different when it was your own kid, right? Will wasn’t quite sure. But he did know that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

So he called who he always did when he had a problem. It only took a few rings before someone was picking up, Steve’s familiar voice on the other end, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Will sighed, flopping face first into his bed, the phone pressed to his ear. 

He could hear the smile in Steve’s voice, “Hey kiddo, what’s up?”

God, he was such a dad. Will wouldn’t be shocked if he started wearing socks with sandals by the time he hit twenty-three. He went straight to the point, “Do you think that living happily ever after is like a real thing? For people like us?”

Steve laughed, “It better fucking be after all the shit we’ve seen.”

“I don’t mean the Upside Down stuff,” Will sighed, “I mean like…y’know. The gay.”

Steve snorted, “The gay? I’m going to have to tell Eddie that one.”

Will rolled his eyes at the redundant statement. He had learned a long time ago that telling Steve something meant telling Eddie something, and vice versa. He sighed a tiny smile on his face, “Oh what, like he’s not already next to you listening in?”

“...touché.” 

Will laughed, turning over to stare at the ceiling, “I’m serious though. Like…is it even possible? It’s not like everyone gets to magically find their soulmate at eight.”

“Is that such a bad thing though?” Steve asked, “Because no offense dude but honestly? I think you could do a lot better than Mike-”

“Be nice,” Will interrupted, torn between being defensive for Mike’s sake and amused at Steve never failing to find a way to come at him.

“I will when he starts being nice to me.”

“Well that’s just not going to happen,” Will laughed, “I’m starting to think Eddie’s right to call you a brat.”

Steve gasped, loud and scandalized. He’d been hanging out with Robin too much, “Me?! Never!”

Will could barely hear it over the receiver, but he could hear Eddie’s faint voice coming through, Yes he is!

And it was making him laugh even harder. Will missed this, so much. He missed having a place where he could just say whatever he wanted, with no worries. Even now he was looking over his shoulder, anxious at the chance that his mom or a sibling could come bursting in at any moment to catch him in the act of being comfortable. It was a confusing and weird feeling, and probably a little unfair to assume they’d prefer him to be sad and quiet over happy and queer. But he still did.

But for now he was safe. And he might as well take the chance to speak on all the things he couldn’t with anyone else, “But what if I don’t want to do better than Mike? Like…it’s stupid but do you think that um, I would ever have a chance?”

The answer was a strong no, but sometimes Will just needed a reality check from someone else’s mouth. 

Steve sighed, “I think the odds are pretty low bud. All jokes aside, even if he was playing for our team, I’m not sure if he’s the type who could even accept it. Y’know?”

Will did know, unfortunately. And if he’d never met Eddie and Steve there was a solid chance he’d be that guy. The truth stung a bit, but it was necessary, “I know, I know. But…do you think he would accept me? If he ever found out?”

“He fucking better. Otherwise I’ll-”

Will heard a shuffle on the other end, paired with something that sounded suspiciously like whining before he heard Eddie’s voice, “Will? You there? Sorry about that. I had to take the phone away before he started talking about beating up a child.”

Will grinned, happy to hear Eddie’s voice, “You made the right call. Do you think they’ll ever get along?”

“Not in this lifetime,” Eddie sighed, “And I know Mike’s not perfect, but if he’s okay with us why wouldn’t he be with you?”

“But it’s different when it’s a friend, isn’t it?” Will asked, “I’m not even sure if my mom would accept it, let alone him.”

“Well first of all, you don’t have to tell anyone shit, okay? But I can promise you that Joyce would be fine with it. And so would Jonathan for that matter. And I don’t even know if El is aware of what homophobia even is.”

It all sounded a lot more believable out of Eddie’s mouth than what was going on in his own head. But still… “What if they don’t though? What if I tell them and they kick me out or something? Or make me go to therapy?”

“Okay, on the off, off chance that you tell them and Joyce suddenly became a monster overnight, we’ll go to plan B. Steve and I will drive up there to kidnap you and you can live in Indy with us.”

Will grinned. He could live with that, “Can’t we just make that Plan A?”

“No, because your family loves you, as they should by the way. And this won’t bother them, I swear. Plus, telling them on your own terms is a lot less awkward than getting caught in the act.”

Will didn’t even want to know what Eddie was alluding to with that one. Poor Wayne, “But what if we’re wrong?”

He wanted to believe him, he really did, but stranger things had happened outside of gay people being disowned. 

“Will, listen to me,” Eddie said, his voice confident enough to make Will perk up, “I swear on Steve’s life, okay? There is no way in hell anyone in that house is gonna reject you for this.”

Will blinked, a little shocked at just how much faith he had in his family. More than he did, “Really?”

“Really. Trust me on this man, you’re going to be fine.”

They hung up pretty soon after that, mostly because El started knocking on his door for the phone. The conversation made him feel a bit better, but also…nervous. Could he really tell them? Would it all just work out? Just like that? Will wasn’t so sure. 

He decided against doing it right away despite Eddie’s own confidence. But he did start to drop a few feelers. He started with Jonathan, waiting until he was high enough for him to forget the conversation if it didn’t go well. And that wasn’t a long wait. 

He found him and his new friend sprawled out in his room, Fast Times playing in the background as they both stared into space. Though Will wasn’t quite sure he could count what Argyle was doing as staring. He’s eyes were barely open, and Will was 90 percent sure he was passed out. But that was good for him, now was as good a time as any. 

Jonathan smiled at him as he wandered in, his words kind but slurring, “Hey! What’s up? You never come in here. You wanna watch something or…?”

Will shook his head, his heart aching a little at the way it made his brother frown. Maybe he really had been neglecting him, too caught up in his own head to spend time with the closest thing he had to a Dad. 

It made him feel a little bad, but that wasn’t what he was here for, “No thanks. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure!” Jonathan said, way too excited at the prospect of a simple question, but maybe that was the weed, “What’s up?”

Will shrugged, casually leaning against the door. Or at least he hoped it looked casual, because his heart was beating a mile per minute, “Steve said that his and Eddie’s anniversary is coming up soon. Do you think I should send them something?”

Jonathan tilted his head up to look at him, his eyes bloodshot with a tiny smile on his face, “That’s like…so nice dude. You’re always so nice. How are you so nice?”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Will pressed, hope fluttering in his chest, “To be, y’know, celebrating them like that?”

Jonathan shook his head, “Nah man. It’s like…romance. Y’know? It’s sweet.”

“Yeah dude, gay guys are cool,” Argyle agreed out of nowhere, his eyes still closed,  “Good for Stu and Eggie. Gay people got like, the best hair.”

Will didn’t really know what to do with that one. But Jonathan was impressed. He jerked his head back to stare at Argyle, his voice in awe, “How’d you know he had good hair? I never told you he had good hair.”

“I bet they both have good hair,” Argyle sighed, “They alway do.”

“Are you like, psychic?” Jonathan asked, like that made any sense at all.

“Shit, you think I could be?”

Will watched as the two of them started to debate the idea, his brow raised. God, weed sure was a hell of a drug. He left them to it after that, deciding to slowly back out of the room. But he was going to chalk it up as a positive. 

preview for the next chapter (kind of) of this fic

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

Can we be lovers and friends?

Wanda Maximoff x Avenger fem!reader.

A/N: Y’all this was hard to post, I kept reading it and reading it over again, not really liking it cause I’m paranoid??? Haha but decided to post because why not! Also coming up with titles is so hard!?!?! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fluff piece, I apologize for any mistakes! :)

Warnings: Talks about drunk people, unwanted contact (not in a heavy way, but still a warning.)

Translation: “Detka.” Baby.

Word count: 2,860.

Masterlist.

It was a typical Friday night, the Avengers were gathered at their favorite bar in uptown, decompressing after a rather hectic week when Natasha Romanoff approached a sullen looking Wanda Maximoff.

"Hey Witchy, what's got you all grumpy?" Natasha teasingly asks the younger woman who is currently sporting an angry pout as she glares across the bar at two figures in the distance.

"I'm not grumpy," Wanda retorts, never removing her eyes from you as she answers Natasha. Eyebrows furrowing more than before as a woman rests her hand on your arm, "it's just, who even is that with Y/N," she says, arms crossing on her chest.

Natasha let's out a small laugh at the sight of her increasingly pouty friend, "no clue Wands, but maybe this is a sign for you to get off your ass and finally ask Y/N out, or like you're seeing now, someone will definitely sweep her off her feet," the older woman says, as she places a comforting hand on the Sokavian's shoulder.

"W-what?" Wanda sputters slightly, finally tearing her eyes off of you turning to look at her friend so fast she's surprised she didn't get whiplash, "Nat, what are you even talking about? I don't like Y/N, that's insane!" The younger girl says nervously.

Natasha chuckles at the younger girl's expression, her voice softening as she speaks, "Wanda, it's clear to anyone that has eyes and half a brain that you love each other, it's just you two idiots that have failed to realize your true feelings for the other," she says, squeezing her shoulder with a smile.

"Wait, she likes me?" Wanda asks, eyes wide in shock.

At this, the older woman laughs, her hands coming to her face in exasperation, "yes you dork! She loves you just as much as you love her. My goodness, it's so sickening to see! I seriously don't know how either of you haven't noticed, I mean with all the longing stares, the soft smiles thrown at each other when you guys think no one is watching, the overall adoration. Truly and unbelievably sickening!" Natasha says with a playful smirk.

"I-" Wanda begins, cutting herself short as she looks at you, standing across the bar, polite smile on your lips as the woman that is in front of you continues talking, "I don't think she likes me like that Nat," Wanda whispers, eyes looking at you sadly.

Natasha frowns at her friend's expression, her own eyes flitting towards you, not understanding why the brunette still looks so upset after she just revealed that you feel the same way for each other, "Wanda, I can assure you, she definitely likes you," Natasha says with conviction.

The younger girl sighs, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but maybe you've got it all wrong," she says, eyes casting down as she can longer stand to see someone else flirt with you.

At this, Natasha blows out a breath of air then says, "god, I have to do everything," and begins making her way towards you.

Wanda's eyes widen in surprise, "Natasha, wait!" She yells, her hand reaching out to stop the redhead, but it's too late. The woman is already walking towards you with resolve.

As you're listening to the woman that approached you at the bar drone on about who knows what, you notice a figure making its way towards you and you let out a sigh of relief as you realize who it is, "Nat, hey," you say softly, your eyes lighting up at the prospect of getting out of this unwanted conversation.

"Y/N/N," she greets with a smile, "it's getting late, we should start making our way over to the compound," the redhead says, smile widening as she notices your eyes soften in appreciation at her interruption.

"Okay, should I help you regroup?" You ask, looking at your mentor with a smile.

"Yes, let's gather everyone up so we can go," Natasha says, her eyes then glancing to the woman that was speaking to you, "I'll be taking this one off your hands now, we need to be going."

The woman pouts, "why so soon? We were just starting to get to know each other well," she whines.

Your brows crease for a second, then an awkward smile takes over your face as you try to hold back an incredulous look, you definitely weren't getting to know each other. "I know, I know and I'm sorry, but I really must go," you mutter, trying to sound as apologetic as you possibly can without actually feeling any kind of remorse, slowly trying to shuffle towards your mentor.

The woman sighs, "it's okay cutie, I know you're a superhero and you need your rest, so go," she says, as she leans forward grabbing your face to place a kiss on your cheek, causing you to go as stiff as a board at the unwelcome contact, her lips lingering on you longer than you'd like.

"Uh, thanks?" You say with confusion as soon as she pulls back, Natasha blinking, slightly bewildered at the woman's audacity.

"Come on," the redhead says a second later, composing herself immediately, grabbing your hand to pull you away from the woman.

"What the fuck," you mutter, as you're dragged by Natasha. Reaching Wanda you look at her with your eyebrows furrowed, "did you see that?" You ask your best friend, grimacing as you wipe your cheek.

"Yes," Wanda responds sadly, but you don't get to dwell on her response as she quickly moves away from you and makes her way around the bar with Natasha to gather the other Avengers so you can all make your way home.

Once the team has been gathered by the trio, you three make it a priority to make sure you all make it back to the compound safely.

When you arrive home you help your teammates into their sleeping quarters. Making sure they're taken care of as good as possible, setting aspirin and glasses of water down by the bedsides of those who will inevitably have hangovers in the morning.

As soon as you finish making your rounds, you make your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water and finally take a breather after the exhausting night you've had.

Granted you didn't drink or do much of anything at the bar like the rest of the team, but the social interaction of it all finally catches up with you, weighing you down.

As you stand in the kitchen, gripping the sink, head down in exhaustion, you hear steps make their way into the area causing you to stand up straight and look over your shoulder at the person walking into the space.

"Hey Max," you greet softly, as your eyes land on your best friend, "what are you still doing up?" You question, turning your body to face the woman.

Wanda smiles softly at the nickname, "I just came for a glass of water," she says, eyes observing your face, exhaustion written all over your features, "what about you? Are you doing okay?" She asks, a small frown of worry present on her face.

You lean against the kitchen sink, arms crossing on your chest, "I'm good," you smile tiredly, "although, as eventful as today was, I can't seem to fall asleep, so I thought taking a small breather and a glass of water would help," you chuckle.

Wanda nods in acknowledgment, as she makes her way through the kitchen, getting herself the glass of water she came for, standing across from you when she does, "yeah, I get what you mean," she says, taking a small sip of water, "today was something," she whispers, clearing her throat.

"You're telling me," you chuckle, shaking your head, "all I wanted was to hang out with you," you begin, missing the blush on Wanda's cheeks, "but I got bombarded at the bar and I just couldn't seem to get away. Like I know it comes with being an Avenger and all, but that woman would just not stop talking about herself and I couldn't find it in myself to politely pull away. Any time I tried, she would just put her hand on my arm and hold me there, it was truly uncomfortable," you rush out, looking at your best friend with a silly smile.

Wanda stares at you lovingly, then shakes her head after a minute, regaining composure, "wait, so you didn't like her?" She asks slowly.

You shake your head, "god no. I mean no offense to her, she was pretty I guess, but she's just not my type," you say with a casual shrug, "she was way too drunk. She kept talking about her ex the whole time, saying how dating an Avenger was for sure going to make him jealous. I didn't know how to tell her that I certainly did not want to date her. Thank god for Natasha, she came at the right moment to intervene," you smile.

Wanda lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding and says, "but she kissed you," her eyebrows furrowed at the memory.

You shiver slightly and say, "yeah, she did. But it definitely wasn't welcome. I think she was too drunk to realize what she was doing," you grimace, and with Wanda's silence you decide you should bid her goodbye and head to your room, "anyway, it's late, we should get some sleep, goodnight Wands," you whisper, moving forward to hug your best friend.

As soon as she's in your arms, Wanda all but melts into the embrace, your towering frame causing her head to rest comfortably against your chest.

After standing in each other's arms for a few minutes Wanda pulls back slightly to look up at you, her green eyes shining with something you've never seen before and maybe it's the calm and the quiet, maybe it's your exhaustion, maybe it's the feelings you've pushed down one too many times. You're not quite sure what it is, but you lean down and press your lips softly against Wanda's, a sigh escaping her as your lips lightly brush.

Soon after your brain catches up with your body and you pull away immediately, "oh my god, shit Wanda, I am so sorry, I didn't-" you begin rambling, but your words are cut off by Wanda pulling your face down to hers to meet your lips in a passionate kiss, both of your feelings pouring into this long awaited moment.

As soon as lack of air becomes an issue, you both reluctantly pull away, "wow," you whisper, eyes closed, a dopey smile on your face that causes Wanda's heart to flutter and laughter to bubble out.

"Wow indeed," she whispers back, an enamored look in her eyes as she waits for yours to open.

Once you open your eyes, you look at your best friend in a whole new way, "wait, does this mean what I think it means?" You ask softly, wanting to confirm that your best friend does indeed feel the same way that you feel for her.

Wanda laughs softly, "if this is your way of asking me if I'm in love with you, then yes, that's exactly what it means," she says, lightly biting her lip, causing your eyes to cast downwards in distraction.

"I can't believe this," you say after a moment, "I was so afraid to admit that I love you in fear that you'd reject me and I'd ruin our friendship, but you love me?" You ask with a big grin.

Wanda's hands cup your face softly as she looks into your bright eyes, "yes detka, I'm in love with you," she beams, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your cheeks, "I think I have been for 2 years, but I guess I just admitted it to myself today after seeing that woman flirt with you, and maybe also with a little help from Nat," she mutters the last part shyly.

You let out a laugh at the sight of Wanda's reddened cheeks and pull her in by the waist, her arms automatically encircling your neck, "I love that woman, who knew she’d be such a matchmaker," you smile widely, "we should definitely thank her when we see her tomorrow," you say softly, as you lean your forehead on Wanda's, getting lost in a sea of green.

"No need," you hear a voice say from the shadows, and both you and Wanda pull away from each other to stand side by side. "I'm amazing, I know," Natasha says with a slight smirk as she walks into the kitchen. "Also I'm glad you two idiots have finally confessed your feelings for each other," she says as she stands in front of you and Wanda, "I'm happy for you both, you deserve this," Natasha smiles, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, "also Wanda don't hurt Y/N," your mentor tells the brunette seriously, maintaining eye contact for longer than you'd like as you see Wanda slightly begin to fidget.

"Okay Nat, I think she gets it," you cut in with a small, nervous chuckle. Reaching for the redhead's hand that's on your shoulder to squeeze and hold.

Wanda smiles at you appreciatively, then at Natasha a second later, "Y/N/N, it's okay, I see where she's coming from, she's been your mentor for longer than I've known you, she's just looking out for you," the brunette says, "thanks for looking out for her Nat," Wanda whispers honestly.

Natasha nods with a small smile on her face.

Then suddenly she turns to look at you with a serious glare, the action causing you to drop her hand and step back a little in surprise and slight fear, "and you," Natasha begins, pointing a finger at your chest, "you better not hurt her either. I know that you mean well most of the time and that things easily go over your head," she says and you pout.

"Rude," you mutter.

"But please, don't be an idiot, be rational. Always remember, both of you, that communication is key, talk things out before jumping to conclusions, listen to what the other has to say and all that good stuff because this is the last thing I will say to you both as relationship advice or whatever. So please, don't hurt each other, be mindful of one another and for all that is holy, use protection," she ends with a smirk as she sees both you and Wanda stutter, faces flushed red in embarrassment.

"Mom," you whine jokingly, causing Natasha to let out a laugh. "Thanks Natty," you say after a brief moment, pulling the shorter woman into your arms, "for everything," you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Also, we're both girls, so protection doesn't really work that way, I can't even get her pregnant. So really, you're worrying for nothing, we're all good on that front. But also you don't even know if Wanda wants children, like what if she wants to have my-" you begin rambling, but Wanda's hand on your mouth stops you.

"W-wait, no. We're not- we haven't-," Wanda stutters, shaking her head, "I- what I'm trying to say is, thank you Nat," Wanda smiles with flushed cheeks.

Natasha laughs at both women in good nature, "no problem kiddos, now get some rest, it's late," the redhead says as she walks towards her sleeping quarters.

Wanda removes her hand from your mouth when Natasha is out of ear shot and slaps your arms softly, "oh my god, you're such an idiot," she blushes.

You laugh as you pull her into your arms to stop her assault, "what? What'd I do?" You ask teasingly, "what I said was valid, or what you don't want to have my kids?" You squint playfully causing Wanda to hide her face in her hands as you move forward to hug her, swaying your bodies from side to side lightly in jest.

"Oh my god," the brunette groans, "I am not having this conversation with you right now," she says rolling her eyes as she moves back to grab your hand to pull you to her room.

"So when, tomorrow morning?" You continue teasing.

"No, shut up," she continues grumbling, causing you to laugh.

"Okay, so wait then, where are we going?" You ask.

"To my room," Wanda says still dragging you.

"To make babies?!" You ask excitedly as she pulls you through her door.

"I hate you," she mutters red in the face and you let out an even louder laugh.

"I love you too sweetheart," you say, as you bring her into you to kiss her softly.

When you pull away Wanda looks at you with a smile, "I love you, now it's time to sleep," she says as she pulls you to bed.

After a few minutes of peace and quiet, Wanda thinking you're already asleep. You sit up slightly to teasingly whisper into her ear from behind, "so do you want to have my kids?" Causing Wanda to groan as she shoves your face away from her.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hiii!! how are you? god, it's my first time requesting and I'm super awkward but I've been kinda having this dark mc brain rot! what would the love and Deepspace boys do with a secret gambler mc who's just like yumeko jabami? that'd be so interesting! feel free to ignore this ask if that makes you uncomfortable and have a nice day!

🎲 LND Scenarios with Dark Gambler!MC

🎲 Synopsis: Love and Deepspace men dealing with their dark gambler partner's eccentrics.

🎲 Pairing: LND x GN!Reader

🎲 Content Warning: sexual undertones, mild humor, no pronouns/looks mentioned (Jabami is for the aesthetic), Zayne is the only one vibing, there's no mercy in kitty cards!

🎲 A/N: Thanks for letting me take a crack at your request. I never watched Kakeguri but I think I got the vibe! I did tone the behavior down a little to fit LND more but I think you'll be satisfied. Zayne's part turned into my favorite even though I had the hardest time thinking of a scene for him!

“Let me have a turn.”

Xavier shudders at the dark aura he senses behind him despite the sweet smile plastered on your face. It’s almost like seeing a demon reflecting in the glass of the claw machine but in the form of an angel. He knew it was a bad idea to come to the arcade. He was no good at the machine no matter how much he tried and the nearly empty bowl where his tokens once laid was the proof.

“It’s alright. I didn’t think I could get it anyway. I’m not really good at this game.”

You frown at him. “It’s not you, love. These games are designed to cheat people out their money. It's disgusting really.”

Xavier gulps at that word. Cheat. If there was one thing you hated in this world, it was unfairness. The crooked smile forming on your face forces him to return eye contact with the special edition bunny plush he’s failed to get time and time again. Somehow, he sees fear in its eyes.

“I’ll get it for you.” Your hand reaches into the coin bowl; each clink makes his throat tighten as you finally pull out one of the coins between your fingers. “That bunny will be coming home with us.”

Xavier knows there’s little he can do when you sound that determined. Luckily, you won the bunny in two attempts.

“Ta-da! A fluffy bunny for my fluffy bunny.”

A sense of relief washes over him when the round rabbit hits his hands. Maybe he was being overly paranoid. However, his relief is quickly buffed out by anxiety when he sees you place another coin in the machine. It’s only a few seconds before the chimes of the machine go off again. Then, you pass him another toy, a carrot this time.

“Every bunny needs a snack!” you coo, but your tone carries that familiar edge that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand. “Now, whom shall we capture next?”

To Xavier, it sounds less like a question and more like a decree of war. “I think these two are more than enough for today."

“Xavier, this game stole forty dollars from you. I’m not going to let it get away with that,” you declare, proving it was just as he feared as your voice lowers. “Now, which one do you want, dear? Oh, I know, I'll just win them all for you! How does that sound?" you ask, but Xavier is eerily aware that it won’t matter what he says when you’re like this.

“Here we go!” you mewl as the claw begins to whir up.

Ignoring the shiver that climbs up his spine when your voice drips with the venom of ecstasy, there’s little Xavier can do but take another step back, buy another bowl of coins, and hold them for you as the role of a supportive boyfriend.

It’s an hour later when he finds himself surrounded by plushies, much more than he can hold, and the fear that you’re going to get kicked out the arcade any second.

“Cleaned out again!” you announce with a shrill breathy gasp, the giggle you give reminding him of the maniacal laughter Lemonette chortles out whenever the wanderer sprays lemon juice in his eyes. “Tell the employees we need another refill.”

“We don't have enough hands to carry all the ones you already won.”

“What?” Your focus finally breaks from the game and to the many toys scattered on the floor around him, overtaking his feet, then to the worried look on his face. “I went overboard again, didn’t I?”

Xavier sighs. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“How do you suggest I do that?” he asks with a shake of his head. “You’re impossible to stop.”

You flutter your eyelashes at him innocently. “I did get you your bunny though!”

“At the cost of the poor arcade owner’s precious sanity,” he reminds you but the smile on his face is less than scolding when he sees the guilty sulk you have and the lax of your shoulders. “Let’s find a donation center to drop these little guys off. We’ll count it as our good deed for the month.”

“Good idea! How about we surprise all the kids at the hospital?” you agree. Xavier chuckles. There’s the angel again.

“Pretty please, Rafayel!”

The painter rolls his eyes, scooting further away from you to find a different spot on the floor to sit as you crawl after him. Rafayel turns his head away and strokes his paintbrush down the center of his canvas.

“No. Now, go away. Shoo. Shoo, go paw at someone else,” he says, waving the wet paintbrush at you.

“But no one else will play with me,” you whine.

“I wonder why?”

You are terrifying when you play kitty cards. Unfortunately, he was once the only one foolish enough to play with you because he wasn’t aware of how you got when you gambled even when the winnings were only a few pieces of chocolate. He knows better now. Despite your cute precious face, you were evil incarnate when it came to games.

“Surely, you pity me my dear sweet, gorgeous boyfriend. Did I forget to mention talented?” You give him the puppy eyes to try to wear down his resolve; your hand glides over his bangs, lovingly pushing them from his face. As much as he loves trying to make you happy, this is one of the few things in the world that he refuses to listen to you about.

“As true as all of that may be, I prefer living thanks,” he says before switching brushes to another color. A splash of blue would be excellent.

“Is this about last time?” you ask him. “It was an accident.”

“You nearly broke my hand!”

“You were trying to swap the kitties!” you yell back. Rafayel was a no-good cheater when it came to playing games and not the least bit sorry about it. It’s not your fault that you grabbed his hand by reflex nor that he was so dramatic about it.

“So, the sentence is hand breaking? That's cruel and unusual punishment!” he says with a gasp.

"Is it wrong to take away your tool for cheating?"

“Have you forgotten what I do for a living? You might as well lay me out in the sun to dry.”

Sighing, you decide to agree with him. You suppose you could be a little competitive when it came to games. Besides, they say it’s easier to catch more flies with honey. “Look, I’m sorry, baby,” you apologize and smooth out a hand over his thigh. “How about I give you a super special prize if you win.”

Rafayel barely looks at you from the corner of his eyes that slowly drop to where your hand rests on his leg. You’re on your hands and knees next to him, perched up like a cat begging to be petted.

“I’m listening,” he says, continuing to mix his paints. Purring, you lean in and whisper in his ear the prizes you’re willing to trade for him to play one little round with you.

His heart races with each word. It’s suddenly becoming harder to keep the stroke of the brush straight when your hand starts to trail further and further up his thigh. “Well, when you put it that way—” and he almost gives in until he sees the corner of your lips curling up into a smirk. “Wait. No. I refuse.”

“Not even if—” and you whisper in his ear again. He swears the brush handle will splinter if he grips it any tighter. His face is glowing a light red by the time you pull away. He might be Lumerian but he’s still a man; it’s difficult to bury the memories of pleasure under the memories of his fingers squeezing in your hard grip the last time you caught him cheating. He manages, somehow.

“How easy do you think I am? I’m not open for business whenever you want, darling.” He manages to spat out, not exactly the best rejection but it’ll suffice.

You puff up your cheeks at him. “You’re the meanest boyfriend ever!”

“And you’re evil when a card gets in your hand,” he argues back. The last thing he sees is the red of your shirt as you pounce on him and blue paint spilling across the floor.

“You’re so nice, Zayne. You’re the only one who's brave enough to play against me.”

Zayne glances up from the stack of cards in his hands to catch your tongue glancing over your lips to wet them as you stare him down with dilated eyes. He expected you to get worked up but not quite this early into the game.

“I had the free time today.”

The real reason he schedules these regular games with you is to keep your strange habit under control, like providing a little bit of a drug to an addict; or in simpler terms, walking an overly energetic Husky so it won’t tear up the furniture. It beats the many times you ring him up at two in the morning, needing him to come rescue you out of a tough situation. He knows you’ll never learn your lesson with him always swooping in when needed, but he can’t stand the possibility of you getting hurt should he not come to your rescue every time you over bet your hand and need him to win back your money for you. The doctor never really expected to be a poker or kitty card expert at this age but alas.

“I’m guessing there’s at least one Kitty Plot in your hand, am I right?” you ask him; and he doesn’t understand how you sound more excited each time he obtains another assist card.

“And if I told you there was?”

The giggle you let out sounds much too vulgar for a simple game of kitty cards, but he’s used to this eccentricity of yours at this point. “Then that means I get to beat you even when you’re at your best!”

You slap down a Freeze card and Skip card. There’s not much he can do other than draw his assist card and ride out your next turn. In the next phase, you throw out another assist card, one that will allow you to restock your empty number stockpile and seal your victory.  

“Any last words?” you ask him. He can see that you’re starting to twitch with the excitement that comes from besting him. It’s the most dramatic thing he’s seen, but he’d be a liar to say it wasn’t…satisfying…to watch your face fill with shock as he blocks your finishing move with a Meow This. Maybe you were rubbing off on him after all, he muses.

“You held on to that all this time?” you ask him, recalling the many chances he could’ve blocked your earlier plays. You were aware he was luring you into a trap by playing the slow game, but you thought you could get around it this time. With a dreamy sigh, you cup your cheek in your hand. “I should’ve known. Just careless.”

“Any last words?” he asks, mocking your earlier victory line.

“None I’m afraid. I’m completely at your mercy; helpless in the face of your onslaught,” you tell him, and he ignores the little tilt of seduction lacing your voice and the squirming of your thighs as he starts erasing every point you’ve earned.

Slowly, your points decrease one by one as he throws out assist after assist while you let out little whimpers and mutter compliments under your breath with each cup color change and point reducer he throws out.

You’re going to lose! Again! He’s incredible as always.

But you’re offered deliverance when instead of erasing the six points of your blue kitty the cup color changes to match it. You hear Zayne “tch” under his breath, and you can’t help but laugh when he finally has to give up and fill the last white kitty cup with a pathetic low-level kitten.

In the end, you only won by two points but that was all you needed.

“I won…I won!” you repeat, rocking back and forth as you hug yourself and toss your head back. “I finally beat you! You won’t believe how long I waited for this day! Now what should my prize be?” You fall back onto the floor, kicking your feet. “It’s so hard to decide. I honestly didn’t think this day would come! There are so many things I’ve dreamed of making you do for me!”

Zayne presses his lips into a thin line as he begins to collect the kittens from the cup. “Calm down. You’re drooling on the carpet,” he exaggerates, not that you're in the right mind to listen.

“I got it. I know just what I want,” you squeal, holding your finger in your mouth to muffle your laughs. Zayne tenses when you sit up, much like a vampire from a horror movie, and lock eyes with him; he doesn’t think he’s felt so targeted since his days in the military.

“Meow for me, Zayne,” you demand, and his face burns at the ridiculousness of your request.

“You—”

“Are you backing out? That’s poor sportsmanship especially considering I took every nasty medicine each time you won.”

Zayne shakes his head. “No. I was simply thinking that’s surprisingly tame for you.”

You lift your eyebrows curiously. “So, does that mean?”

Zayne leans in over the table. In this position, he can see how your face softens from that lust-filled haze that gambling always manages to place over you. He doesn’t know if you can actually get embarrassed, but you certainly look flustered as he locks eyes with you.

“Meow.”

“Oh,” you gasp, eyes wide. “T-That was absolutely wonderful,” you blurt out with a clasp of your hands. “Do it again.”

“It was a one-time deal,” Zayne rejects before straightening his back.

“I didn’t think you would do it. One more little meow for me?” you plead. “This was a special victory, and I didn’t get to enjoy my winnings properly.”

“If you want to hear it again, I’m afraid you’ll have to beat me a second time,” he answers bluntly.

“And if you win?”

“You do what I want.”

“Which is?”

Zayne smirks at you. “All I can tell you is that I’ll ask for much more than a meow.”

“You’re on! You’re on! You’re on! What better way to solidify my position as the best kitty card player than with a streak?”

“I take it we’re playing on Hell Mode then.”

“What do you mean? It’s always heaven playing against you, Zayne. You’re the only one who can give an actual challenge,” you sweetly coo, nearly a moan. “Unfortunately, your reign will officially be coming to an end. I’m going to beat you without luck; and when I do, I think I’ll make you meow and purr for my reward.”

“Hurry and restart the match then if you believe that.”

Zayne watches as you excitedly set the game back up. He supposes that this type of gambling is more fun than gambling with chocolates. At least until he sees your social media message the next morning.

Guess who finally toppled the old king and became the new Ruler of Kitty Cards? I won’t name them. No one asked. It’s not polite to be a sore loser, my adorable meowing subject.