#had like tear stains on the bandages over his eyes

[ghvst-ing]

The weak, yet steady beeping of the heart monitor fills your heart with hope, one dulled out over your time spent grieving.

You look like a right mess. Your hair’s disheveled, the whites of your eyes reddish. Dark eye-bags adorn your face, too, cheeks stained with trails of dried tears.

The sharp smell of antiseptic, and chlorine burns your nose. A migraine prods at the back of your brain, and you feel the pounding of your head behind your eyelids.

Light, rhythmic taps of your shoe against the tiles fill the hospital room, and your knee bounces in tandem, unable to keep still.

The body of your lover lays still on the cot. Motionless. Unmoving as you stare. The only sign of life is the gentle rise and fall of his chest, dry lips just barely parted underneath the oxygen mask.

Your clammy hands grasp one of his limp ones, not even the smallest twitch in his rough fingers.

The familiar, calloused skin of his palm reminds you that he is tough, resilient. That he could will survive this. That the bullet that pierced the side of his skull wouldn’t leave him in an indefinite coma — stuck within his own body like a captive, but not quite dead.

Your teary eyes settle on his face. A long-healed scar runs down his chin, almost covered by the light brown stubble that littered his jawline. His head, however, was wrapped in a pristine, white bandage, while his hair was cropped for better access to his wound.

“You better wake up, Johnny..” A bittersweet chuckle tumbled from your downturned lips, your quiet voice cracking at the end, the words escaping the tight knot that formed in your throat. “Don’t think I could live without you, y’know..?”

His job was dangerous, and you knew that.

Many times did he return bruised and battered, yet, luckily, never handed to you in a plain box of his belongings. There had been instances, scares, when you were called to the hospital due to injuries he suffered on the field, but during your entire relationship, it wasn’t ever this bad.

Your fingers trembled as you held his own in your grasp, his hand only lying there limply. Your sleek engagement band brushed against his warm skin as you swallowed thickly.

Your shoulders slumped in exhaustion, hunched forward in the uncomfortable chair beside his hospital bed, and your nose scrunched up with a sniffle.

Feeling your eyes burn with tears, you let them fall closed. You wondered if he could hear you, feel your presence beside him in this comatose state.

You were never religious before this, but you’d turn to any god just for him to wake up, even if just for a mere moment, a passing second, at least.

“Please..”

[mondaymelon]

— " 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧... "

art by @/kodokunoakashi on twitter, edited by me !! angst. an eensey weensey redemption at the end

xiao, zhongli, wanderer, neuvillette x gn!reader

[ centuries after their lover’s passing, they finally are able to rest in your ghostly touch. ₊˚ෆ ]

Perhaps the day he had found your lifeless body, eyes long fluttered closed and splatters of red decorating your throat was the day Xiao began falling apart.

He knew it from the start, that your death would be inevitable. You weren’t like him - a weary soul who had traversed these lands for thousands of years in search of a refuge that Teyvat had never provided for him. No, you were like the evening’s first star, brilliantly shining and setting the entire night sky ablaze. A warm glow that sparked flames wherever its light reached. He was one of many fortunate enough to be caught in your spiraling trap, those cursedly charming grins and a laugh with the innocence of a child. Your sweet warmth was addicting, and once he had a taste, he couldn’t get enough of it. Was that why the adeptus found himself leaving his corner of the inn more and more often, just to trail by your side? Maybe this was the reason he had found himself expressing something on his lips that he had never before?

Fragments split your face in his memory. Years, decades, centuries had passed. To the outside eye, all that could be observed was that the yaksha was particularly more elusive than before, only having briefly appeared once or twice before mortals. With ignorant and foggy minds, they’d declare that the Conqueror of Demons must feel despair over the sudden death of Rex Lapis, and they’d just leave it like that. An open question hanging in the air with no answer to pair it with.

Xiao didn’t know if he still had tears left to weep. 

His brethren that he had lost so many years ago had robbed them with their passing, and they were nothing left but an empty remnant of once had remained. A shapeless echo… yes, perhaps that was what he was now. All that knew him were certain that your passing had stolen a part of him that would never recover. The fragments of emotion that you had left with him had only dissipated with time, and he despised himself for it. Shards that danced in his vision as he hefted his spear, whirling it with precision and slaughtering all in its path. They had dared lay hands on you. They had taken whatever resolve he had left. Now, he was but a shell, hollow without your embrace.

It’s cold.

Sometimes, he heard your laugh on the wind, and he’d whip around, expecting to see you there, but only to be met with the terrible, terrible silence, and all the adeptus could do was laugh bitterly. Crystalline drops of tears would threaten to roll past the barriers of his carefully crafted facade, and he’d curse at himself, grasping at his chest with heavy breaths and blown eyes.

He didn’t deserve to cry. No, not after he had failed to protect you. Guilt, self-loathing, karma, all of it… it bound him down with red tendrils that burned against his skin. Pain bloomed throughout his body, a brilliant crimson that stained his clothing, an anguish that he ardently welcomed. His vision dimmed, and his honey eyes which had long since lost their light slowly shut, embracing the darkness that reached for him.

Darkness, so how come when he opened his drowsy lids, all he saw was light?

“Xiao?”

A familiar voice, one that had blurred with time, yet now rang clearly in his senses. Those excitement-filled eyes, that mischievous curve on your lips, and the warmth of your fingers with his. The grass prickled at his back, and the scent of blooming wildflowers filled the air with its spring sweetness.

A smile tugged at his lips. His sorrow spilled from his eyes. He almost could’ve laughed at your concerned gaze, and with a bandaged heart he pulled you closer in his arms. His wounded voice was barely a whisper. “Thank you… for waiting for me all this time, love.”

He still remembers it. It’s a sight that’s been burned into his eyes. The way his composed expression had collapsed, how his disgraced self had fallen to his raw knees. Zhongli had held you then, feeling the precious warmth leave your body, listening to the thrum of your heart slowly ebbing away.

He had been seconds too late to hear what you had spoken in that moment, and only saw the wordless utter on your moving lips, the raspy, labored breaths, until they ceased to nothing but silence. How could something void of sound be so unequivocally loud? The silence rings in his ears, like a horrible testament of his broken contract. That bright moment the two of you had shared seemed centuries ago, an abstract painting of something that couldn’t have possibly occurred. With a beaming face, you had held his larger, gloved hand with two of your smaller ones, grinning at his touch.

“Let’s always be together, okay? No one can keep us apart!” You laughed to yourself at how red the man had grown at your words, and then stared fondly at the silver band he had placed on your finger a day prior, when he had kissed your hands and uttered his words of confession. Red dusted your cheeks at the thought, and to the wide-eyed man, you looked simply ethereal, with the way your lashes fluttered with every blink and the way your cheeks were warm with a smile.

“Yes.” Zhongli had been starstruck by you, so utterly breathless at how speechless a mere mortal could make him. It was astounding, how your smile seemed to steal his words away. He wanted to do nothing but to freeze those seconds, to place them in a glass and cherish them and relive them in a loop that lasted eternity.

Oh, what’d he do to see the way your lips curved upwards into a cheeky grin that you’d display just for him, the snarky comments leaving your mouth, and the way you laughed at his subtle reactions.

It’s only been two hundred years. Should he say “already?” Time passes slow, then fast, fluctuating without any thought of the man in mind. At times, when the clock strikes midnight and moonlight spills into the courtyard like liquid silver, the seconds slow into minutes and the minutes slow into hours, and he’ll gaze out onto the grassy fields where the two of you used to stroll hand-in-hand, and he’ll allow himself a moment of reminiscence. In other times, the world speeds up around him, and the incompetent man is unable to keep up. Your funeral was one of those times. How could he simply walk away from your framed portrait and declare, “that’s that?” Liyue had suffered a terrible loss, yet only he seemed to register that. How come?

Some days, he’ll talk to himself, as if you’re beside him. His words meet empty air and he smiles vacantly, holding a hand that isn’t there and kissing the lips of someone who is long gone. Your shadow is everywhere. He can’t escape it, but that’s okay. He doesn’t want to. Zhongli allows those remnants of you to linger and dance in the wind with the reddening leaves. By the bridge, excitedly petting the stray dogs, calling each and every one of them the name that you’ve bestowed upon them. A sight Ganyu would have loved to see. Or in the branches of a particular tree, laughing down at him with a giggle like birdsong, taunting words. “Would you look at that? Up here, I’m even taller than you, Zhongli!”

And every time he hears your transparent, faded voice, he can’t help but smile, despite how hopeless he feels. You’re gone, and that’s the truth, so where’s the harm in bathing in your afterimage just a moment longer?

He knows it isn’t you. It can’t ever come close. As centuries blur and whirl past, and he finds himself departing to the more secluded spaces of Liyue’s wilderness, he decides it’s time. His nation no longer needs him. The reason he had for living is gone, and the heart that had once been so lively has dulled.

Would it be too foolish to hope that when he opens his eyes, you’ll be there, waiting for him?

“Xiansheng? Come on, come on sleepyhead, wake up already!” Pause. “Oh, will this do the trick?”

And then there’s warmth on his cheek, the feeling of your lips against his skin, and he feels alive, for the first time in those archon-forsaken years. He knows what he’ll see, when he opens his gilded eyes that are shimmering with dew. “Yes, love. I’m here.”

Betrayal. Those sickening words you had spoken to him, sweet beyond belief… Wanderer hissed through his teeth, holding his hands over his ears as his tears fell to the earth and soaked into the dark earth.

Yes, at that time he should’ve known. The truth you spoke to him was simply too good to be true - a fantasy that could never be attained. Yet he had been swayed by your smile and fell for your warmth, and since then had been willingly trapped in a void that was you, with no intention of escaping. It amazed him, almost, how he can smile in this moment, albeit however sour it is. What more proof did he need? To be unable to stay somber in the moments of your passing, did that not just prove how flawed he was? How undeserving? 

He detested it. No wonder why you had left this world. It was a pain to even be by his side. Words without “love” and a chest that did not thrum with flusteredness could never convince you to stay beside him. Once again, someone he yearns for has cleverly slipped through his fingers. From the beginning, he was a sinner. A worthless puppet incapable of feeling a shred of what you held for him.

Red dripped from his fingers as they clawed at the earth, as he bends into himself with ugly wails. Could you see him now, wherever you were? Tears flowed freely from his eyes, not heeding his mutters for all of it to cease. He wanted it to end, all of it, the suffering that he felt and the emptiness he could never fully elude. The fatui, his mother, they’d all laugh at him with pointed fingers if they saw him now, wouldn’t they? His flushed cheeks are stained with salt and his throat was raw from his shouts. The blood pooling around your body has already cooled, and your fingers that were intertwined with his had already grown cold to the touch. 

“Woah, Wanderer, your skin is really cold! Aren’t you hot at all? It’s summer!” You had stared at him with a childlike fascination, holding his hand in yours, poking it for extra effect, only growing more astonished.

“It’s nothing to be impressed over.” He cleared his throat into his fist, yet did not let go of your hold. “If anything…” At the time, his words had not completed themselves, yet his gaze had trailed to your own hands, and he had kissed the back of them with a cheeky half-smile. I like yours. They’re warm. There had been an inkling of naive hope, that your life could fill the void in his, and perhaps that was what allowed his plastic expression towards you to grow into true ones.

“H-Hey, c’mon…” His voice broke, unsteady like the legs of a newborn fawn. He took your blood-stained hand and pressed it to his cheek, only further wetting it with his tears. “This isn’t funny, you know, you can… you can stop now…”

Look how broken he’s become, stooping as low as to speak to a corpse.

That was only a decade ago. Every morning, the ache of its recollection brings a fresh dose of misery. Every evening he lulls himself to sleep by repeating the words you once said, imagining the stroke of your hands tangled in his hair, imagining your sunbeam-like smile as you gazed down at him fondly.

Really, what’s the point of living with you gone? Could he really call it “life?”

Those questions still remain sharp in his mind as he sputters out a cough, glancing down at the blade in his shattered chest, positioned right where his heart should have been. Cold, unforgiving steel, driving down and tearing apart. Wanderer blinks up at the cursed heavens above and heaves out blood that leaves a lingering red on his lips, and he can’t bring himself to cry anymore. He spits out a final damnation at Celestia before slipping away, eyes closing as he finally-

“Wanderer? Where’s your hat? You aren’t wearing it today?”

Your voice. It breathes life into his empty soul. Warmth. He wants to hold it, hold you, ever closer like he never had the courage to. His violet eyes spring open as he sits up with a start, his disheveled garments flinging about. “Y-You-!”

“What’s with you today? You’re acting strange, silly. Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?” You grin stupidly, an idiocy he finds all so lovable. The twinkle in your eye - you’re alive. You’re breathing and you’re existing before him. A final grace that he can’t thank whatever for enough.

There’s the sound of wind, and then you find yourself tightly wrapped in his embrace, your shoulder stained with his tears that spill despite how much he doesn’t want to show you this weakness. He buries his face into you, and you can feel the ghost of a smile against your skin. “I’ve missed you. So, so much. Please, please, don’t leave me again.”

Lifeless, your body lay, along the shores and lapped by waves stained crimson. That day, Fontaine realized what it was like to truly rain, not a few drops, or even spring showers. Water fell endlessly from the skies, a downpour that may never end, an all-swallowing sea from the heavens that swallowed all unfortunate enough to be caught in its path. Irony clouded the skies, and Neuvillette found himself broken into pieces he didn’t know how to put back together.

His efforts to understand the human population were in vain. A complete, utter failure. How could he possibly judge, knowing the world despised him? Knowing that the scales were upturned and that nothing could ever be just? Your death, it was unfair. Unfair to the world and unfair to he who held you ever so dear. But what else could he do but continue his oversight? Quitting his position wouldn’t bring you back. Nothing would. He could hear your cheery voice in his ear, and the hint of a pout, a chiding tone. “Neuvi, you can’t quit! Let’s all try our best, okay?”

The days where you were by his side were the happiest. Fontaine had become akin to Sumeru’s desert, the sun blazing overhead and the moon shining brightly at night. Yet, how come the people of Fontaine had seemed upset at the skies for his contentment? They begged for rain, begged for their dying crops, to the point where you were forced to distance yourself from the man for days at a time, just the unrelentless sun would cloud over and perhaps a drop or two of rain would be squeezed from the heavens.

If he had known you would leave so soon, he would have never permitted you to depart from his side. If he had known you would pass this world and traverse to the next, he would have held you with every ounce of his soul, he would have declared his love for you over and over, he would have placed the ring he had been saving in his pocket, the one he slipped on his finger whenever he was at a particularly difficult trial. 

So many “what if’s.” None of them would materialize. Once again, his efforts would fall short. Once again, he’d lose someone. 

The tea was hot. It burned his tongue, yet he couldn’t feel a thing. You, the clearest of springs and purest of waters, had set his own sea into a never-ending storm. Lightning struck and its own surface churned choppily with enough rage to devour a nation. The second tea cup that was on the other side of his office desk remained untouched, the contents slowly cooling into nothingness. A something that could never be.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry~” He could hear it when he shut his eyes for what he hoped to be the final time, your voice from the mist that shrouded his mind, and he wanted nothing more than to embrace the owner of it. How could he possibly heed your words, when he felt his tears slip past his eyes, flowing as unperturbed as a river? Your back is facing him, but you know he’s there. You glance back with a fond beam, extending your arms outwards. An invitation. One that he’d readily take, any time, every time.

He would never enable you to slip from his grasp again. He allows you to engulf him in your arms, he allows you to stroke your thumb on his face and wipe away his salty tears, he allows you to brush his hair behind his ear and press butterfly kisses into his closed eyelids. Your warmth floods his body, and with a smile he takes the ring he’s saved for you out of his pocket, and fulfills his regrets as he slips it onto your finger, a final tear rolling down his cheek. “There’ll be no more reason to cry, not anymore.”

(a/n) this further proved to me that writing angst is so fucking mind destroying but at the same time provides this sort of quiet sorrow that you aren't able to attain anywhere else and for some twisted reason this is literally one of my favorite things ive like. ever written. holy shiiiii

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife

[luveline]

if your still taking requests I would like to request reader scraping their knees and tasm!peter patching her up and it’s a lot of lovely tension:))) maybe r not being used to people touching them without bad intentions.

I hope you are having a lovely time right now and are taking care of yourself<3

thank you lovely! ♡ fem, 1k

Peter's droopy eyed when you knock, less so when he gets a good look at you. Blood leading like twin snakes from the grazed ache of your knees and staining your socks, tears lining your eyes and shiny in the sun, you're embarrassingly sad. He doesn't give you shit for it, the opposite. 

"Fuck," he says, his eyes widening with a familiar concern. "Shit, what did you do?" 

"Uhm," you say, though you know, but you bit your tongue on the way down and everything hurts, "I fell. Someone bumped into me coming out of the subway." 

Peter holds his hands out, thinks better of it and steps down over the door jam to take your hands and pull you forward for a hug. He smells like apple jack cereal and his hair is still wet from an early morning shower, a walking poster boy for brown-haired, brown-eyed sweethearts everywhere, but you still seize at his tight hold. 

He murmurs a sorry and leans back, assessing your gaze, so close that you can see the trifecta of his pinprick beauty marks, one in the shadow of his brow, one under his eye, and one closer to his nose. 

"Come on. We'll clean you up." 

Peter ushers you inside, his fingertips brushing the small of your back. You walk into the kitchen, every surface clean, the wooden dining table decorated by one empty coffee cup and one half full. His cereal bowl has been washed and left to dry on the rack, next to what must've been his Aunt May's plate. 

"May's in work already?" you ask him.

He hums, turned away from you, a slip of his long, shapely back exposed as he reaches for the first aid kit sitting on top of one of the cabinets. "She said to tell you thank you for the flowers last week." 

You panicked so much beforehand. What do you bring for your not quite new friend's mom when you meet her for the first time? You've known Peter for a few months but never had the good fortune to meet May until she demanded it, your bouquet a weak offering. You'd wanted her to like you, because despite your fight or flight whenever he gives you a quick shoulder rub, any ounce of affection, you really like Peter. 

Said flowers draw your attention as Peter helps you up onto the counter. You turn away from him, trembling hands forced under your thighs, and count the petals of a wilting carnation one by one as he washes his hands quickly in the sink beside you before laying out the sterile bandages atop their plastic coverings. "I'm gonna wipe the blood off," he says. 

You're past saying no, I can do it myself. You already let him help you up. The time to protest is passed. 

"Okay." 

He takes your wobbly voice for nervousness, and you are nervous, but not the way he thinks. "I'll be careful," he says. "You don't have anything to worry about." 

Strange but not unheard of for Peter to be so serious. You nod jerkily, waiting for his touch. It doesn't come for a while, and you brave meeting his gaze to find out why. 

His eyebrows are sewn together in concern. His hands land on your thighs, and, to your surprise, you aren't apprehensive. You relax as deft hands draw mirrored lines up and down the outer sides of your legs, leaving a generous distance from the beginnings of your shorts. "Maybe you can take some advil first, if you're worried." He eases your legs apart as he steps into the space between them, his eyes unfailing where they meet yours. "It'll hurt less. I bet I could get some topical numbing cream–" 

"It's not–" You peek down at his chest. "I'm not worried about my knees." 

"Oh. Good," he says, hand coming up to your elbow. He holds it so tenderly you wonder how you ever thought he might have a propensity for anything but tenderness. "You look really nice, under all the blood. Is that weird? That's probably why you fell, you couldn't just walk around looking that nice. Throws off the balance of the universe." 

You laugh softly. "These are my best socks." 

"I can see that!" He squeezes down from your elbow to your hand. You've never been touched like that, half massage, half reassurance, just squeezing you to squeeze you. Laughter livens his tone, "I'll get you new socks." 

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to." 

You struggle to breathe as he cleans your knees. Between his murmuring, It's okay and Almost done, you've no time to feel worried. 

You've time for other things, like this. He turns between your legs and slides a hand under the other, fingertips pressing into the soft underside of your knee as he works a thin layer of disinfecting ointment into your scratches. He continues his murmuring, apologies and lamentation alike. "Sorry. Don't want you catching rabies from the pristine streets of Queens. I mean, fuck, sweetheart, you made a real mess. How hard did you fall?" 

You swallow a lump that feels fit to choke you, worse when he tilts his head ever so slightly your way, face an inch from yours, less. 

"Hard," you say weakly. 

He misses the implication (your first stroke of luck all day), smoothing a large square of gauze over your knee and securing it with medical tape. "It's nothing a day on the couch can't fix. I'll make you breakfast too, free of charge." 

"Thanks, Peter." 

He rubs the skin above your knee. "You're welcome. One horrendous injury down, one to go." 

His touch feels even softer the second time around. 

[etheries1015]

posted so much angst recently that I guess ill make it up with an alternative ending to this

...

General Lilias yelling hadn't left you without your woes. You had decided to take a break, walking deep into the woods to collect herbs and fruit as a way to pass time to cool off. Hours passed and when you hadn't returned to the cottage as you normally would, and Lilia began to worry (against his will) . He sat at the wooden table, head propped up with his hand as he stared at the clock ticking on the wall much to his annoyance. Deciding he had waited long enough, the general pushed aside his pettiness and went out searching for you, putting on his mask and rushing out the door.

It wasnt long until he found you collapsed on the forest floor, seemingly in a pool of dark red liquid. With eyes wide and heart becoming heavy as stone dropping into his stomach, he ran quickly to your side, holding your body up to his chest as his long black and red streeked hair caged around you. It wasn't long until you emerged from the sudden movement, tiredly looking into the glistening tear filled eyes of the general. squinting your eyes you groggily groaned and hissed in pain, Lilia gasping at your concious state.

"Lilia...?" the fae looked around in a slight panic, eyes wide as he realized you were also able to speak.

"Quick, where were you harmed? I could not find an entrance wound, we must hurry and put pressure on it before-" you cut him off as you grasped the situation in its entirety now with a breathy laugh, Lilia looking at you with furrowed eyebrows eith a frown to match painted upon his beautiful tear stained features.

"This isnt funny," he snapped, "You could-" noticing how well you were able to function despite the seeming severity of the situation, he realized something must have been amiss. Lilia took a moment to look around once more to analyze a second time, seeing the tipped over basket of red berries.... The way you were laying...the buldge of your swollen ankle...using a finger he dipped it in the red liquid and brought it up to his lips, tasting it. ah. He understood now.

Suddenly dropping you and turning his back, you could feel the heat of embarassment radiating off of the soldier. To cover his red face, Lilia placed his mask back on and began to take a step away from you.

"Wait, wait! Liliaaa," you whined, "that hurt! When you dropped me! I sprained my ankle and fell on my Back. Would you please pity me? Just a little?" He stopped his movements from advancing forward back to the enterance of the forest, before taking a deep annoyed sigh and turning around to help you up.

He placed you on his back, the powerful fae hoisting you up and using his arms to interlock your knees and elbow supporting your bum. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your head peaked out from between his shoulder and neck. It was silent for a moment, and no more than that before you immediately broke the silence (not to his suprise).

"Were you crying, oh great and powerful general?" You cooed into his ear, Lilia immediately groaning in annoyance.

"If you do not shut your mouth, i'm leaving you here to rot. And I cannot believe you fell asleep on the forest floor, that was incredibly foolish," he chastised you. With a shrug of your shoulders you tilted your head in thought.

"Well, I was tired. My ankle hurt, and I was sad, so...it felt like the world was telling me to take a nap? I guess?" You laughed. Scoffing at your silly reasoning, Lilia simply rolled his eyed and continued forth towards the cottage. Another moment of silence rang before, of course, you interupted the peace once more.

"Why? Do you care about me?~" you teased. Another groan.

"Yes." He replied coldly and quickly, leaving the smile wiped off your face and jaw to the floor. Finally you allowed the silence to take over as heat crept up your muddied cheeks.

It was silent all the way back to the cottage, through to the moments of Lilia running a bath for you, to him bandaging your sprained ankle as you sat on your plump bed.

"If you continue to stare at me, you're going to burn a hole into my head. Spit it out, what do you have to say?" He finished putting away the bandages and folded his arms, looking at you- who now had a smug satisfied smile plastered on your lips. He already knew what you were going to say, you were all too predictable. And he had his answer ready, too.

"Ah, I think I just feel deeper in love with you..." You sighed dramatically, your hands over your heart before abruptly grabbing hold of Lilias hands, with the same stars in your eyes as the day he first met you.

"Will you-"

"Yes."

You blinked

Once, twice, four times. You had to shake your head roughly to clear out your ears to be sure they were functioning properly.

"Wait- you dont even know what I was gonna-"

"You were going to ask my hand in marriage again, yes?" He asked, a smirk coyly forming on his lips, his fang poking out ever so slightly.

"Well, yeah," you laughed awkwardly, "But I'm pretty sure I heard you say that wrong- did you say-"

"I said yes. I will marry you, human." He cut you off once more, looking away with flushed cheeks. "Don't make me say it twice."

...

"And that is how your (co parent) and I got engaged!" The short haired fae smiled proudly as you groaned, face burried in your hands. The young boys looked at you in awe, as the small silver haired one poked you to get your attention.

"Were you really like that?" Silver asked, Lilia interjecting himself before you had even the chance to defend yourself.

"Yes! They were rather clingy and outspoken. A far cry from now, wouldn't you say? Perhaps ten years of marriage makes one dull, you have lost your charm, my dearest!" You rolled your eyes and let out a scoff of laughter towards your fae husband.

"More like you stole it from me," you huffed, "How does one as old as you become so childish and carefree? sebek, silver, would you even believe me when I said he was so cold and mean towards me in my youth?" You pouted. The two boys shook their head, causing Lilia to let out a hearty laugh in response. Sighing with defeat and a smile upon your lips, you pushed Lilias face away from your own as he floated towards you with puckered lips.

"Alright boys, time for bed." Without protest the two had gotten ready and tucked into bed, leaving you and Lilia alone in the living room.

"You didn't have to tell them that," you huffed as Lilia trailed kisses down your neck, "I was not THAT ooverbearing! I mean, of course I had my moments..." With a raised eyebrow Lilia challenged that statement with the look in his eyes.

"It was your perserverance that attracted me to you, my dearest. It is nothing to be ashamed of, I assure you! If anything, you could be a little more... Clingy..." His voiced turned into a low sensual growl as his lips captured your own, pressing back with equal force as his hands began to wander under the hem of your shirt...

"Am I interuptting?" A familiar voice called out, causing you to gasp and push away a chuckling Lilia.

"Ah...Malleus. Im sorry, how long have you been here, exactly...?" You inquired. The draconic fae sitting on the couch tilted his head curiously, "you truly havent noticed? I have been here this entire time." Awkward silence rang for a moment and nothing more than a moment, before Lilia grabbed your hand and began to tug you towards your private quarters. With mischief in his eyes and voice sweet as honey, he leaned into your ear to whisper;

"Let us renew those wedding vows, shall we, my lovely spouse?"

Masterlist

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {8}

Summary: Life has flipped upside down: the people supposed to protect you hurt you and the man who hurt you protects you. Warnings: angst, fluff WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

Nausea churned your stomach and you were grateful dinner hadn’t been served or it would surely be making its return. Blood rushed past your ears and throbbed in your head as you tried to focus on the sheet music in front of you and not the cold touch of sweat beginning to coat your skin.

“Don’t fuck this up,” your mother warned.

You vividly remembered the last time you messed up, fumbling over the tune in front of her friends. She had sent them on their way to the pool house bar and the moment the door closed she slammed the lid of the piano down before you could react. You hadn’t been able to fight for weeks with the thick bandages that kept the finger splints in place.

With trembling hands you lifted the lid that protected the ivory keys from dust. It weighed more than it looked and your eyes scanned the wood for any sign of the blood that had stained it. There was no point searching for something that couldn’t be seen, you found the housekeepers were able to clean blood out of anything.

“You’re shaking,” Charles whispered as he took a seat on the bench with you. His hands took yours and concern bled into his green eyes.

“I’m fine, I just need to get this right. It has to be perfect.”

He frowned at the detached tone and let you pull your hands free, but he didn’t leave as you raised your hands to the keys and stared vacantly at the music book on the shelf. Fingers he had seen clenched tight into fists and fighting with raw strength now moved delicately across the keys and your eyes closed. To anyone in the room it would look serene, divine even, but close up Charles could see the shimmering of tears beneath the lashes.

Something, or someone, had utterly broken the woman beside him and Charles found out just how much he could truly hate when he looked up to see your mother. Her watchful eyes were eager but it wasn’t for the music. The eyes that were the same exact shade as yours were too invested in your performance. It was a stark comparison to when his mother watched him play. There was no pride, merely cold calculations and the anticipation of a mistake.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as your little finger seized up and failed to reach the key needed.

Fire ignited in your mother’s eyes at the mistake, not that anyone else would have caught it unless they were pianists too. Cruel intentions played across her face as Charles shifted closer on the seat and reached for your hand, slipping his beneath yours and taking over the piece, finishing it almost perfectly.

“Such a delightful duet,” your mother clapped, accepting the applause as if she had done the work. “Dinner will be served in a moment.”

The crowd dispersed to take their appointed seats but you couldn’t move as you sat with your hands slumped on your lap. A shadow fell across you and you tensed, waiting for the pain to come.

“Come on, baby, we’re leaving.” Charles rose to his feet and planted himself between you and your mother.

“The evening isn’t over.”

Charles curled his arm under yours and pulled you to your feet but you felt like a puppet, not in control of your own body. “It is for us, and every other evening too.”

“I don’t know what game you are playing at, boy, but she belongs to me and she isn’t going anywhere.”

“Y/N is a person, not a belonging. She isn’t a price in a deal or weight in a business decision.” Charles snickered as her eyes widened. “Yes, I know about that. I wonder what the world would think of this family if they found out the truth too.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

You finally had the strength to look at him and see utter seriousness set in his handsome features. He was willing to make a scene for you with some of the nations most affluent figures in the next room, but that was exactly why your mother ceded to him.

“Go,” she snapped, an angry finger pointing to the door before she stared down her nose at you. “I won’t forget this when you come crawling back to me.”

You barely spoke a word as you followed Charles outside where he called his brother. “Tur, I need a favour. Can you come and pick us up? No, we haven’t been arrested.”

You didn’t realise you were shivering until he unbuttoned his suit jacket and draped it over your shoulders. Warmth and his scent enveloped you and you immediately started to feel better, your fingers unfurling from the stiff fists they had been closed into.

“He’s going to be at least half an hour,” Charles said as he tucked his phone away and looked around, spotting curious eyes watching from the window. “We should get a taxi and wait somewhere else.”

“Can we walk?”

Charles glanced at your heels. “Do you want to get changed?”

You shook your head and started to make your way down the driveway. “I would say the door is already locked.”

When you reached the gates you knew Franco was already advised of your impending departure. The mountain of a man took up almost all of the security booth and his sad eyes followed each step, but you kept your head high.

“Take care of everyone for me, big guy,” you said as you passed the open gates. He gave the smallest of nods before his lips pursed and he hit the button to close the gates as he had been ordered.

“You’re taking this rather calmly,” Charles commented as he laced his hand in yours and crossed the road to walk along the waterfront.

“I’m sure she was expecting a tantrum.” You smiled at the thought of her disappointment before a laugh bubbled up. “God, she is going to hate you.”

Charles laughed along with you and pulled you to a stop to watch the sun setting over the water. His chest pressed to your back as he held the safety rail either side of your body and his lips warmed your cheek. “She can hate me all she wants, it was worth it. You are worth it.”

You rested your head on his shoulder as the sun dipped below the horizon and sighed. “You make it hard for me to hate you.”

“Good, I don’t want you to hate me.”

With the red hues of light fading quickly you continued on the walk out of the suburbs and into the city. The smells from the fine dining establishments reminded you that you had missed dinner but when Charles asked where you would like to eat there was only one place that called to you.

“McDonalds?” he double checked, frowning as you looked up at the golden arches with what he could only imagine was childish wonder. “Wait, you’ve never had McDonalds?”

“Do they serve caviar?” you shot back.

“They might start when they see you,” he teased, pointing out how massively overdressed you were as he opened the door to the fast food chain. “After you, my lady.”

Charles could see you were uncertain of yourself as you checked what was on the menu. Your posture was relaxed but your eyes were darting around the room, taking in the exits and the other patrons who weren’t dressed nearly as nice as you. “I don’t know what to get,” you finally admitted after spending too long trying to choose one combo.

“Why don’t you go choose a table and I will order for you?”

You chose a booth in the back corner with some privacy and ignored the strange looks you were given as you walked by in a Dior gown. It was only when you sat down that you realised how silly it was to be wearing a 20 carat diamond necklace with no security personnel so you unclasped the chain and bundled it into your hands beneath the table.

A few moments later Charles arrived with a tray of food and slid in beside you.

“So we’ve got the classics: cheeseburger, Big Mac, nuggets, fries and a sundae.” He opened all the packaging and tore the top off a sauce punnet before dragging a nugget through it. “Here, sweet and sour is the best.”

You parted your lips and took a bite, surprised by how sweet and tangy the sauce was with the crunch of the crispy nugget. Your eyes widened and Charles grinned. “Good, no?”

“Holy fuck,” you moaned. “That is delicious!”

“Try this,” Charles said as he dunked a bunch of fries into the ice cream.

“Seriously?”

“Trust me.”

You were dubious but opened your mouth for the food he offered and frowned at the contradictory tastes on your tongue. Hot met cold, sweet met salty, crunchy met creamy. You didn’t hate it but couldn’t decide if you liked it either so you gave it another attempt.

Charles took a burger for himself and quietly ate while you took a bite out of everything before choosing the cheeseburger as the simplest yet satisfactory item of them all.

“It’s like watching a newborn try food for the first time,” he chuckled.

You scrunched up the paper napkin you had dabbed your lips with and tossed it at his grinning face. “Asshole.”

“What? You’re cute.”

“Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself, brother,” Arthur said as he dropped into the booth beside you and flicked a finger at the layered chiffon sleeve of your dress. “You look gorgeous.”

You tossed your hair back over your shoulder and tucked a hand under your chin with a dramatic pout. “This is the look of a homeless woman, Tur. I have nothing but my name and the clothes on my back, but your brother plans to take them both off me.”

Arthur tipped his head back with a laugh and stole the remaining chicken nuggets. “You can ditch the wedding plan now if you have been successfully thrown out. What happened anyway?”

Charles watched as you shrugged and murmured quietly, “She had me play for her important guests and I messed up.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed and he picked up your hands, turning them over to check for any injuries. “Did she hurt you?”

You gently removed your hands and tucked them back on your lap. “Not this time, Charles intervened.”

Charles had never seen such a look of relief or gratitude from his brother and despite knowing he had done the right thing, he wished he could have done something sooner. Clearing his throat of the lump of regret that clogged it, Charles started to collect the rubbish on the table before picking up the tray.

You frowned and looked around for staff. “Isn’t someone going to do that for you?”

“Not here, no,” he said as he disposed of it himself before holding his hand out. “Ready to go home?”

Your argument to stay at the rundown factory was vetoed by both Leclercs so Arthur had driven you back to Monaco with Charles. It was strange to walk back into Charles’ apartment with your worldly possessions in a gym bag and briefly wondered if you were truly prepared for the consequences. You might act brave but there were really only two worlds you knew, the one in the gilded cage and the one in the iron cage. Both involved fighting of two very different kinds but both were for survival; of status or life.

This was foreign.

“I’ll take you shopping in the morning before we go to the track.”

You pulled the necklace from the pocket of his jacket you still wore and placed it on the table. “I don’t know how much this is worth but it’s Cartier.”

Charles frowned at the change in the confident woman he knew and he picked up the heavy chain embedded with diamonds. “You don’t have to worry about money,” he promised as he stepped behind you and clasped it around your throat. “I promised I would take care of you.”

He turned you in his arms and smiled as he ran a finger along the gems resting in the valley of your breasts. “You were born to wear diamonds.”

You couldn’t quite find the words to thank him because a simple thank you wasn’t enough so you slipped his jacket off and draped it over a chair before reaching for the hidden zip at your side. You brushed the sleeves off your shoulders and let the dress float to the floor under his watchful eyes before stepping closer. With each step another item of clothing was lost - heels, bra, panties, gone - until there was only one thing left. “The necklace?”

Charles smirked as he pulled you flush to his body and tipped your chin back to meet his darkening eyes. “Leave it on.”

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ His favorite pet

❖ Character: Mahito

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 2.6k

❖ Summary: Mahito loves to experiment on you simply because you let him - loving how he pushes past your limits and pleasures you beyond belief.

❖ WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT! sub!reader, slapping, dacryphilia, clit slapping, bondage, tentacles, choking, throat fucking, spitting, humiliation, degradation, penetration with tentacles, anal, overstimulation, womb fucking, squirting

❖ A/n: the list of warnings is so long oh my. I'm not even sorry

꒰ ͜͡➸ Back to Kinktober Masterlist

Mahitos eyes went wide when he saw the way you were looking right at him instead of through him like everyone else. He knew right that moment that you will be his, if you want to or not so he gave you a silly grin while waving at you. Talking to him was so easy, he would always have interesting topics to discuss for hours as time flew by whenever you two hung out, always listening to you, always agreeing with you without making it too obvious but before you knew it you were craving his company. You fell so hopelessly in love with the man who did nothing but sweet talk you, luring you in and giving you a sense of being heard and seen along with this false sense of security - his plan worked. He's not a master of manipulation for nothing, not even surprised that you were seeking out his attention all the time, almost addicted to it like a lost puppy.

The fact that he wasn't human didn't even surprise you when he broke the news to you, already aware that he was a little different from your average man but you never once minded, finding it quite appealing actually. Mahito’s lighthearted attitude along with his dumb jokes never failed to make you smile, always pushing you to your limits or having you be the butt of the jokes. It was playful banter to you, an experiment of how far he can take it for him. Testing you… you were never more than just an experiment to him, while you called him your boyfriend in such a loving way it always amused him. Your giggles lit up his heart but he wouldn't admit it, blaming it on everything but you. He's a curse after all, made out of hatred… he can't love.

It was just a question of time until he took these little experiments into the bedroom though and before you knew it, you found yourself pushed far past your limits but his sweet encouragement in your ears made it bearable. “You're taking me so well. Just a little bit more, cupcake” he chuckled and rubbed little circles on your clit to distract you from the almost unbearable pain he caused with his slaps to your thighs and ass - skin painfully sore to the point where it's bleeding. But you were his good girl, his perfect little human, you didn't want to disappoint him so you took everything he had to give despite your cheeks being stained with tears. Seeing you this broken, eyes all red and puffy from crying and far out of your comfort zone got him hard like nothing else, knowing he had you in the palm of his hand like a little puppet he can control made him feel invincible. The orgasm that followed was earth shattering, little slaps to your over sensitive clit gave you a high like never before after getting edged for hours on end, drooling on yourself and the bed beneath from the exhaustion and barely noticing how Mahito cleaned you up with utmost care, bandaging the wounds he caused before kissing each of them. “Can't have you breaking from this… you did so well for me” he praised while wrapping you in a fuzzy blanket and cupping your cheek to prevent you from moving while he kissed your forehead with a tender kiss. The collar around your neck jingled when you moved to cuddle up to the curse, a tired smile spreading over your lips at the reminder that you're his and he is yours - your name carved into his soul and there to remain.

You didn't need to know that even if you ever used the safeword, he wouldn't stop. It just existed to give you this false sense of security but worry not, he would never quite literally split you in half. Mahito was so much sweeter with you than with any of his experiments before, adoring you for the way you wanted his love so badly, how you humiliated yourself just to get some words of praise from him. All you were to him was a little project to study humans on, liking to see your reactions to various things and how you seemed to mind it less whenever he encourages you, how the unbearable pain suddenly became bearable with simple praise never failed to make him laugh, how desperate you cling onto his words to guide you out of it and towards your sweet reward for being such a good little human to him. He could own you and you would thank him for it, making him feel like a god.

This was your mistake - trusting him to never take it too far, that he's doing this for your pleasure rather for his curiosity but this mistake is what made you end up in this delicate situation. Your hands were tied behind your back, a spreader bar preventing your legs from closing as Mahito manhandled you onto all fours, a sickenly sweet smile on his face when you just let him move you the way he desired, not thinking much of this since he does this a lot. Your eyes locked for a moment while he caressed your cheek with his hand until something changed…

You tried jerking your head away when you felt these cold and slimy appendages slither over your cheek instead of his beautiful slender fingers you loved to feel on your body. “Hold still now, bunny. You don't want to get hurt… or worse, now do you? He asked in a playful tone, letting his fingers - now tentacles slither over your face and neck. Tears started forming in your panicked eyes, the sensation of tentacles on your skin new and frightening when they slowly started choking you. Mahito was laughing menacingly as he watched a fresh wave of fear mixed with disgust wash over your face when one of the appendages slithered over your lips which you pressed into a thin line. “You need to open that little mouth of yours… or i might let them go through your nose” He hummed in amusement, proving his point by letting one of them move towards your Nostril. Your head was shaking violently from side to side, panic increasing as your tears streamed down your cheeks in thick streams now and he sighed, one tentacle pushing into your nostril to let your know he was serious while a look of disappointment started forming on his face - His once so obedient little human suddenly refused him.

Every single hair on your body was standing from the feeling which caused you to reluctantly open your mouth, the tentacle immediately removing itself from your nose and slithering over your lips, slowly ascending into your awaiting mouth. Your body was repulsed by it, gagging wildly at the salty taste the slime left behind on your poor tongue, making sure to rub itself all over your wet muscle so you had no other choice but to taste it. “Look at you, taking it like a good girl. Now close your pretty lips around it, treat it like my cock you love so much” He chuckled but it turned into a laugh when you were pleading him not to make you do this but Mahito wasn't asking you, he was demanding so you behaved like his good little human and did what he wanted, sucking on the tentacle as if its his cock. It took everything inside of you not to gag when you felt a second one slide into your mouth and down your throat, moans from your lover filling your ear when he saw how beautifully your throat was bulging from the intrusion until he decided you had enough, taking the tentacles out of your mouth and kissing you forceful, his tongue invading your mouth like the slimy tentacles did just seconds ago.

His face showed pure euphoria upon tasting your saliva mixed with the salty taste of his tentacles. His kiss distracted you from the way his other hand transformed now too, letting slender tentacles slither over your naked body that was at his mercy until you couldn't ignore the cold sensation anymore, crying out for him to stop but still not using your safeword, which would have been useless regardless. Mahito positioned himself behind you, your ass still propped in the air, your face now resting against the mattress. Wet tentacles slowly slithered over the globes of your ass and along your thigh, ultimately resting at your folds to pull them apart, giving your lover a perfect view of your pretty slit. “Look at you, little pet. Crying and screaming but your cunt is drenched” he mused, smirking at your miserable frame before spitting onto your core that was fully on display for him which made you whimper out of humiliation, feeling his saliva along with your juices slowly dribble down your thighs and staining the mattress beneath you. He was right - it felt disgusting and you wanted it to stop but at the same time it felt so good to be forced into submission by him, letting him do everything he wanted to your body. Unbeknownst to you, a moan slipped out of your lips when one of the tentacles slowly wound itself through your folds, missing every sensitive spot on purpose. This made Mahitos wolfish grin spread further, the tentacle stopping dead in its tracks, resting right next to your bundle of nerves. “What a naughty little thing you are, bunny. Enjoying this like a needy slut” He whispered the degradation in your ear before wiggling the slimy appendage over your clit in a barely there touch, making you cry out from the weird, yet intense sensation.

The way your juices mixed with the slime of the tentacle caressing your clit made it unbearable to you, whines and moans cascading out of your mouth in a desperate way, needing a little more to tumble over the edge than just the feather light touch but Mahito heard your prayers, the slimy appendage now adding more pressure to your sensitive clit, making your jaw slack with a silent scream. The wetness of it aided as lube, easily flicking over the nub until it had you screaming out loud in pleasure, the knot in your abdomen finally snapping and Mahito laughed at the mix of emotions on your face, pleasure and disgust when you realized just what gave you this mind blowing orgasm and that this would not be the end. Your fears were correct when you felt four tentacles play with your entrance, taking turns on slipping in the tiniest bit until two of them slithered in to spread your cunt open, opening you up for the third one. A scream escaped you, begging him to stop but it was only amusing him further, letting the tentacle grow in girth as it slowly pushed itself inside of you. You felt every nub inside of your walls and the way it wiggled inside you let you feel things you've never felt before. “There you go. Give up your little fight… accept the pleasure it brings” Mahito cooed, feeling the way you slowly stopped clenching around the tentacle, making it much easier

To slip it further inside of you, the two smaller ones which spread you open slowly joined the thicker one and stretching you further than you've ever experienced.

Your jaw hung wide open at this sensation, one tentacle pressing against your sweet spot as the other two rubbed against your walls and prodding at your cervix to give you pleasure. With your eyes closed you slowly allowed the sensations to make you feel good, another tentacle playing with your clit again had you whimpering for more, growing greedier by the minute. “Awh are three inside of you not enough?” your lover teased and slid another one back into your mouth to fuck your throat but this time you welcomed it, sucking on it like a pacifier. It muffled your moan when you felt another tentacle enter your stretched cunt, but there was no pain, the little appendage rubbing your nub made sure you're enjoying it all as two more sucked and pulled on your hardened nipples. Pure ecstasy spread through your body, moaning loudly around the tentacle in your mouth but your eyes shot wide open when you felt another small one massage the ring of muscles at your ass, slowly prodding into your puckered hole. “I can't believe you let a disgusting tentacle take your little anal virginity, aren't you disgusted by it? By yourself for feeling this much pleasure?” Mahito asked sinister as he pushed it further into your behind but you only shook your head - it didn't hurt and you the disgust was long gone. You knew he didn't mean it, he loved the way you were so eager to please him by letting him do everything to you, he would never shame you for feeling pleasure since that's exactly what he wanted, for his little experiment to discover new pleasure and the way you slowly succumb to it.

The torturous assault of tentacles lasted hours, your holes stretched and your poor body begging for a break from the continuous orgasms Mahito brought you with his newest experiment. “Give me one more and I'll let you rest” he cooed, pushing against your sweet spot repeatedly with a smaller tentacle as the thick one nestled itself into your womb, making you feel as full as never before. It was enough to have you screaming until your voice was hoarse and with a last flick against your clit he had you squirting all over the bed again, taking one tentacles after the other out of your abused cunt until only one remained on your clit along with the other inside of your behind. “I need to see you break, bunny. Think you can cum again just from this?” He asked, nibbling at your neck while one of the slimy appendages kept rubbing your clit as the other one thrusted into your puckered hole. Your head was shaking violently, overstimulated to the point where it started to be painful but you still didn't use the safe word and allowing him to continue with this torture until he had his fill from seeing you cum over and over just from the anal penetration until you passed out.

You don't know how long you were gone but your legs were aching, your holes sore which reminded you that this wasn't a nightmarish wet dream - it really happened and you felt like crying when Mahito pulled you closer into his arms. “Did we go too far today, my bunny? Does your tiny body need a break?” He cooed in a fake sympathy but you still appreciated his care, nuzzling your face into his chest to return to the safe space in his arms. You knew he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't, at least not physically. “You did so well for me today… such a good girl. My perfect little human” he whispered as he played with your hair, hoping you can fall asleep soon since he already cleaned you up while you were unconscious. Mahito may be a curse created out of hatred, unable to love but he felt something towards you, something that runs deeper than just his curiosity - your name was carved into his soul after all.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez @planetonet @bitchcraftinc

[broshot]

Can I request JJK characters x near death hurt reader? C:

a/n: you absolutely can, thank you for the request! this request doesn't have any characters so I picked a few myself, let me know if there's anyone you wanna see in this and I'll write♡ I also added a little confession to this because it was cute :) this is probably not what you expected at all but I hope that's fine

cw/tw: gn!reader, hurt w comfort (angst to fluff), hurt reader, mentions of death + blood, confession, gojo being a dad to megumi (I love them), probs a bit (or very) ooc, contains: gojo satoru, megumi fushiguro (separately)

nanami and sukuna version

♡♡♡

gojo satoru was a man who feared no fights; he was the strongest, invincible. he went into fights knowing he'd win, he never had any doubt of that.

and he smiled. he smiled and he joked around. he wanted to seem strong both mentally and physically. and he was strong, so strong he could protect anyone, he thought.

so why were you laying on the ground with your head on his lap with blood flowing out of your side? why was the ground being painted red with your blood? why was there so much blood, didn't he win the fight with the curse that was attacking you?

he took of the bandage that was over his eyes, placing it on your wound and pressing on it. it didn't help. the blood kept flowing out, staining his hands red.

"(name), open your eyes," he demanded. you shook your head so slightly he might have missed it if he didn't have his eyes glued onto your face.

"try for me, okay? open your eyes just a little."

you obeyed, looking at him with your eyes slightly open. your eyelids felt heavy. you opened your mouth and choked out a quiet "it hurts, I can't."

"no, please. don't leave me now." he pegged as your eyes started to close again.

"please look at me. the help is on the way, I swear." his voice broke a little and he hated it. he didn't want to cry, he wanted to be strong.

"I'm sorry." you whispered, wishing he'd hear your last apology and maybe, if there was a slight chance to it, maybe accept it.

"don't say that as if they were your last words," he said. "please, open your eyes and look at me."

but you didn't react. he noticed the tears in the corners of your eyes and the thin line of blood getting out of your mouth and sliding down on your cheek.

"no," he breathed in, feeling a wave of panic flow over him. he couldn't loose a person he loved, not again. he definitely wouldn't lose you, he swore to himself.

his head was spinning and he felt dizzy. "satoru, you idiot, you can't collapse too." he scoffed at himself.

"don't stand up or the wound will get worse." he said to himself. what if he didn't move, though? would the blood just bleed out before you got any help?

he felt your body get colder and colder by the seconds. his eyes started to sting and he felt warm, salty tears push out of his eyes to his cheeks.

"please wake up, please!" he sobbed out loud. he couldn't lose you, he didn't want to.

and again, he blamed himself for the nth time. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for not being able to save you." he sobbed, hugging you closer to him. he then raised his head up to the sky and screamed "I didn't ask to be the strongest!" as if the universe could hear him and change the past.

he cried like there was no tomorrow. he didn't care if anyone saw him like this, not now. he could make them forget about it soon enough, anyway. he could build his walls back up and stop looking vulnerable, but at that moment none of that mattered to him. he just wanted to keep you safe.

"gojo! (name)! where are you?" he then heard a voice.

♡♡♡

you opened your eyes but immediately closed them due to a bright light in front of you. you suddenly became aware of your horrible headache.

"(name)? are you awake?" you heard a familiar voice ask and you turned to look to your right.

"satoru," you coughed. he was unusually quiet so you quietly asked him if he was okay.

now that was what got him speaking. "are you.. you could've died - you almost did - and you're asking me if I'm okay?"

you smiled softly and nodded. "you seem quiet."

he looked at you. this was a rare sight - he was crying. gojo satoru, the strongest, was crying. but his next words caught you off guard.

"the love of my life almost died, how could I not be quiet?"

"what?"

"I love you, that's what I'm saying." he looked straight into your eyes, not wanting to seem like a coward. his cheeks were slightly pink.

you were quiet and he felt as if his heart was coming out of his mouth. he was nervous, more nervous than he ever had been.

"I love you too." you finally said, shaking some of his nervousness away.

"I love you so much. I promise I won't let you get hurt again, I'll keep you safe forever." he cried, wrapping his arms around you carefully so he wouldn't make your wound hurt.

"I know satoru. I know you will."

♡♡♡

megumi fushiguro didn't show his emotions often. he was cold and awfully straight forward with his words. because of this, he often hurt other people's feelings, may it be intentional or not. he didn't have much friends because of this.

he did what he was asked to. he fought when he was told to, he wanted to fight. if he won fights he could prove that he was strong and worthy.

he wasn't scared of many things, or so he thought. in fact, he told people he was fearless but it was a big lie. he feared many things, his biggest fear being abandonment. he feared that his loved ones would leave him.

and maybe it was the universe playing tricks on him and his stupid believes, because his biggest fear was displaying right in front of his eyes.

you were on the ground, unconscious and bloody.

he hadn't noticed this happening to you. the current fight against some curses took all of his attention.

he rushed over to you, kneeling down. he tried to wake you, tried to make you open your eyes but you didn't.

he didn't really know how to react. he felt his heart tighten and his stomach twist at the thought of you being gone.

he was in absolute shock, not knowing what to do. so he called gojo.

he answered immediately, just as megumi expected. gojo always answered him fact.

"heyyyy megumi, I'm kind of a middle of a fight right now but what's up?"

"it's about (name.) they're hurt. badly." megumi managed to say, suddenly realizing how dry his mouth was.

"I'll be right over." was what he heard gojo say before the call ended. megumi took your hand in his, squeezing it softly. it was his attempt of trying to comfort himself and stop the bad thoughts from coming into his head.

but as he looked at the ground, he became aware of the huge amount of blood that was coming out of your stomach.

and to his surprise, he cried. he cried in the middle of a fighting ground and in front of many many people. he never cried in front of people, but this was not an ordinary situation.

but then gojo appeared next to him. megumi quickly wiped his tears and tried to look as usual as he could but his tears didn't stop flowing out of his eyes. his tears blurred his vision.

"they're going to die and leave me, aren't they?" megumi sobbed as gojo told someone to take you to a safe place.

"they'll survive for sure, megumi, they're strong." gojo tried to comfort him. megumi shook his head.

"but what if they won't survive?" megumi cried. he felt helpless, childish even.

gojo wrapped his arms around megumi. he didn't know what to do in this situation, he didn't really believe his own words about you surviving.

so let megumi scream into his chest, he told megumi to just let it all out.

♡♡♡

you woke up in a hospital bed. your limbs felt heavy and to be honest, you just wanted to sleep. and you felt warm, really warm. were you getting sick?

but you opened your eyes and saw megumi's black hair. he was sleeping next to you, laying his head on your chest. you lift your arm to softly shake him, waking him up.

"(name)," he whispered, still not awake.

"it's me, 'gumi." you smiled and suddenly he was fully awake.

"you're awake." he stated the obvious.

"I am."

"thank god." he sighed. "I thought you died. and left me."

"I would never leave you. especially like that and without a goodbye." you smiled.

megumi hugged you. he didn't hug you often (he wasn't the biggest affection enjoyer) but this wasn't the most unusual thing. what was more unusual was the fact that he was crying.

"oh megumi, don't cry." you pouted.

"I just, I love you so much and I don't want to live without you." he sobbed. he really decided to throw all of the unusual behavior at you at this moment, you thought.

"you love me?"

"of course I love you, how could I not?" he asked, pulling away from the hug to look at you with his teary eyes.

"you're beautiful." you whispered. "and I love you too, megumi."

"thank god." he sighed, pulling you in for another hug.

♡♡♡

this is so bad omg I'm so sorry english isn't my first language btw so sorry for bad writing♡

I'm writing the other requests too, wait patiently my loves :D (and please request more)

MASTERLIST

[mieluscious]

keep crying. choso kamo

ෆ pairings : choso kamo × female reader

ෆ genre : smut, pwp

ෆ words count : 2k

ෆ warnings : mdni. sub!choso, meandom!reader, reader is a bitch, degradation, hair pulling, riding, handjob, public sex, sex on the floor, pet play, choso is in love, feminine petnames (she loves to call him chuchu too), toxic relationship, face grabbing, reader loves to make choso cry . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

the sound of your high heels were echoing against the walls of the school bathroom. “aw. what happened to my little chuchu.” you pouted as you walked in a feline way towards choso, who was crouched against the wall, holding his hair and sobbing. your smile grew as you watched him shudder and sniffle back his tears. you stopped in front of him, the tips of your heels touching his shoes. “eyes on me baby.” he slowly raised his head towards you and you couldn't help but chuckle prettily as you saw his tear-filled face. 

your phone vibrated in the pocket of your mini skirt and you took it out to read the message you had just received. “y-you called them again.” the sound of your long pink fingernails on your phone screen echoed in the cold, silent room. you looked up from your screen and chewed your gum more slowly. when your eyes met his he immediately lowered his gaze. you chuckled again.

you moved closer to him and he blushed when he saw your panties peeking out from under your mini skirt. you delicately caught his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “i’m so sorry chu’, i just love it when someone beats you up for me.” you run your thumb over his lower lip. his teary eyes met yours, you smiled at him. “so i can take care of you afterwards.” he sniffed and you couldn't help but find him adorable, crying all alone in his corner like a child. you slipped your phone back into your skirt and crouched down in front of him. you brought his face close to yours, his teary eyes staring at you. you stroked his cheek and felt him snuggle up against the palm of your hand. “you're so pretty covered with bruises and blood.” his mouth half-opened. “so pretty when you cry.” your thumb slipped over his eye, wiping away the remaining tears. “what are you looking at chu’ ?” your smile widened. choso drank in your words, hypnotized by your pretty red lips. you grabbed his jaw and brought your lips close to his. “my lil pet wants a kiss ?” his eyes went back into yours, he nodded.  you dug your nails into the skin of his jaw, making him cry even more. "but we have to take care of your cute little wounds before, right?"

choso's shirt was completely torn off, revealing his bare, blood-stained torso. his breathing was faster and the fact that you were standing in front of him made him even more anxious. your hand caressed his hair. "a-are you gonna call them again?" you couldn't help smiling at his terrified expression. you grabbed your bag and pulled out some bandages. "t-they really..hurt me today-" a whimper escaped from between his lips as he felt you move closer to him until your knees were on either side of his hips. he couldn't take his gaze off your skirt, which rose up over your bare thighs.

you raised his face to yours and your thumb pressed deliberately on one of his wounds at the corner of his mouth, making him cry out loud with one eye closed. "choso is such a lil child." he hated it when you called him by anything other than your usual nicknames. you pressed harder. "such a crybaby." you brought your face close to him and his tears wet your fingers. your thumb slipped over his lower lip. "who owns you chu." 

your lips brushed together. "y-you.." you were smiling with all your teeth. choso could only see you: you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. 

you slid your hands down his torso, scratching his skin lightly with your long nails. you licked his pouting lips, making him moan prettily, his eyes never leaving yours. "touch yourself for me princess." he blushed at the tone of your voice. "make yourself even prettier than you are." he arched his back against the wall and slowly slid one of his hands to his crotch while panting under your dark gaze. you whispered what a good boy he was in the hollow of his ear, making him flinch because of the sensitivity of your warm breath on his ear. you blew on his ear suddenly, making him moan loudly as he reached for his cock in his pants. "how sensitive you are chuchu." you grabbed his jaw and pushed his head back against the cold bathroom wall as he slowly began to jerk himself off. his mouth half-opened to let out little gasps under your envious gaze. "does it feel good baby?" he nodded and bit his lower lip as his eyes fell on your pretty lips. "do it faster for me mh?" he began to stroke himself harder and his back arched as he cried out louder, his body was shaking and his cheeks had become redder, the way choso was desperately trying to speak was so cute that you couldn't help praising him as you stroked his cheek as if he were the most precious thing to you. 

"i-im..i-m gonna..." his tears rolled down his cheeks. "c-cum..-ah!-" you wiped his tears with your thumb. he panted loudly, he caught his lip between his teeth as his eyes darted over all the features of your face. "y-you're- so... pretty..ahh-so pretty i love you-" you smiled at him evilly and pressed your nose to his, your hand went down on his and you suddenly removed it from his dick leaving him deprived of his orgasm that was about to explode.

he threw his head back against the wall, hearing him sob in frustration made you so proud of him. "you're so good chuchu." you placed your lips on his chin, kissing it tenderly. "i'll reward you for letting yourself get beat up for me." he mewled as he felt your warm fingers place bandages on the wounds on his stomach while gently kissing his tear-drenched face. you pressed your lips on his eye, making him squeal softly. "your tears are so sweet princess." he whimpered when your lips finally reached his lips, brushing them gently, your hand slipped into his hair, which you grabbed firmly, causing his head to throw back even more. "you wanna fuck?" he moaned when you finally sat on him with his cock resting against your pussy. "you want me to fuck you choso?" he nodded and his mouth half-opened against your lips, his feverish gaze turned you on even more. you slid your hand along the skin of his torso until you reached his cock, which you grabbed, his tongue came out of his mouth with a groan. you pushed his cock into your panties trapping it between the fabric and your wet pussy lips. the tip of his cock slammed against your clit making you both moan against each other's mouths.

"p-please.. fuck me-" choso was so demanding he couldn't take it anymore, seeing you sitting on him so prettily and the sensation of your wet pussy against his cock was driving him crazy he wanted you to fuck him so badly, his body was shaking.

you laughed softly against his mouth. “you're not getting that pussy today.” his gaze turned to distress and you smiled even wider as you began to rub yourself gently against his cock. you bit your lip as you felt the thickness between your pussy lips and the moans of frustration that came out from choso's mouth drove you crazy. “you know why ?” you grabbed his throat and licked his teeth as well as his upper lip, while he stuck out his tongue to try and catch your mouth for a kiss. you moaned, throwing your head back slightly as you felt choso's hands grip your ass firmly, making you rub harder against his cock. you lowered your face again to him, licking one of the many tears that ran down his face. “because i want you to cry even more” choso threw his head back, moaning loudly as he felt your wet pussy jerk his cock faster. “i want to see your face contort with sadness and frustration” you couldn't help imagining someone opening the bathroom door and finding the two of you fucking on the floor, seeing you the little high school princess with the school weirdo's dick stuck in her panties. you bounced even more against his cock as you felt choso's legs shake, a sign that he was about to cum. 

your hair fell to your neck and choso watched as your locks caught between your breasts, making you even hotter in his eyes. “p-please..ah..put it in im begging you-” you grabbed his hair and the pressure of his hands on your ass tightened. he cried even more as he felt he was about to cum without feeling your walls around him.

“yes baby keep crying.” you pulled his head back and your other hand went to his jaw, which you grabbed to plant the nail of your thumb in the wound on his cheek. he opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue, so close to your lips, he wanted to kiss you so badly. “keep crying for me.” you were about to cum too as you saw choso  being a crying and moaning mess, the tears were running down his collarbones and his breathing was so fast that his whole body was shaking underneath you. 

you couldn't take your eyes off him as the bathroom door opened on your friend, who gasped at the sight of you. you looked behind you, still rubbing yourself like an animal in heat against choso's cock. “what are you doing here?” 

your friend's eyes fell on choso's hands on your ass under your mini skirt. she flushed at the sight. “i-im sorry i couldn’t find you so-” you threw your head back while moaning loudly when you finally decided to slide choso's cock into your pussy. choso opened his mouth wide with surprise and let out a low growl. he'd moan "yes yes yes yes yes" as he finally felt you bounce on his cock as if your life depended on it. “i-i don’t understand whatchu doing here with him.” you smiled as you looked at your friend, she was shocked to see you getting dirty with a guy like choso. 

you moaned louder as you felt choso bury his head in your breasts you wrapped an arm around his shoulders letting him know he had your permission to lick them. you sighed. “ahh- what im doing ?” you placed your cheek on choso's head, smiling with all your teeth, your now piercing gaze locked on those of your friend. “im fucking my little bunny right here.” you grabbed choso by the hair once more to pull his head out of your breasts, his gaze was feverish and his mouth hung open with drool running down his chin, his half-open eyes fell on your friend. “look. isn't he cute when he's about to cum?” choso's lower stomach contracted and his back arched against the wall as the walls of your pussy tightened around his cock. you pressed your chest against his and lifted your ass to fall heavily on his cock before bouncing on it quickly making you both moan loudly, you brought back your attention to choso and stuck your tongue into his mouth, your kiss turned him on even more and he couldn't help trying to thrust up into your pussy. 

“i-im gonna c-cum-” you left his mouth to lick his tears and the way you were now bouncing on his cock was inhuman, your friend who was still petrified behind you couldn't help but be fascinated by the way you were fucking choso. 

you smiled, throwing your head back as you felt your orgasm rising. “you wanna cum baby ? then look at her in her eyes.” you didn’t have to say more when choso came hard in your pussy his eyes were deeply entrenched in those of your friend while you freed yourself as well. choso wrapped his arms around your waist still shaking and hid his face in your breasts again, you stroked his hair with a pretty laugh and looked at your friend behind you again.

 “isn't he cute mh? my little princess.”

© 𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 ! mdni — do not steal, modify or repost my work pls don't make me mad im a human just like you. ☆⌒(>。<)

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny chapter 2

Danny weighed his current options. As a civilians he could just walk away and pretend he never saw anything. But as a doctor with very strong morals, he couldn't leave a man to bleed out in some unsterile alleyway.

He wondered for a brief second how future him would feel about this, probably frustrated, still Danny picked up the very unstable patient and laid him in the backseat secured by seatbelts.

He wanted to take his to a hospital but he knew this patient wouldn't consent even if he could which he couldn't right now because he was unconscious.

Danny decided to respect the vigilante to the best of his ability. After parking the car he scooped up the vigilante bridal style and turned invisible.

He flew up to his apartment and went intangible, making it so he could safely pass through the wall.

As soon as he laid the patient on the floor he realized something needed to be done about his "research", he couldn't let the vigilante see it and start questioning it. So he opted for turning the cork board around.

It was regrettable that he couldn't put the guy on a proper bed but he didn't have one himself so there wasn't much he could do in that regard.

Danny peeled off the blood soaked clothes. He hated it when he had to cut clothes but in this case it was the only way to see the wound better.

It seemed like some kind of jagged weopen had made deep gashes to his abdomen.

He got to work cleaning the wound, despite how much he had bled before the seriousness of the injury seemed to be exaggerated by the mount of blood Danny saw at first glance. It looked completely treatable.

"There seems to be a deep puncture wound near the aorta, thankfully it didn't hit it" Danny muttered to himself.

"There a slight abrasion on the abdomen over the inferior mesenteric but not deep enough to cause any real damage. He would be fine after getting some stitches"

Danny really wanted to do this at the hospital, it would be so much better but he really didn't want to be watched all the time because he knows the vigilantes identity.

Gathering all his courage Danny grabbed his tools. He was hoping the unconscious vigilante wouldn't wake up during this. Danny could administer anesthesia but he was a licensed anesthesiologist. He also didn't have any anesthesia.

Well, most people didn't use anesthesia for stitches anyway, but he didn't have the numbing shots either. The most he could offer of his patients woke up is some pain killers and towel to bite on.

Danny decided to use absorbable sutures, a type of dissolvable stitches.

"Alright now, please don't wake up" Danny pleaded in a whisper.

He began stitching up the wounds. Because he was a vigilante, Danny had a bunch he wouldn't stop just because he was injured, Danny would have to put in extra stitches in case he tears the other ones.

Danny finished and sighed in relief. The man was still asleep.

He picked up the bloody towels and set out a clean shirt pair of clothes for the man. The man's pants were also stained with blood.

Danny left the apartment for a few seconds to get food. He was trying to be polite, he never really had guests so of the man was hungry he wanted to be ready.

Jason opened his eyes slowly. His entire body felt sore. His hand went up to his face only to feel a hard metal. His helmet. He pulled off the helmet and took a big gasp of fresh air.

The helmet must've shut off and stopped ventilating.

Jason scanned the surroundings. It looked like a small apartment, it was almost bare, not even a bed, on fact Jason just realized he woke up on the floor.

Well, at least there was a blanket beneath him. He was restrained on any way he could see, there weren't any visible surveillance devices either.

Jason sat up and felt the wounds to see how bad they were when his hand grazed a bandage. It was tight but comfortable, like a pro.

Jason peeked beneath the wrappings to find stitches.

"Why?" Jason asked himself in bewilderment. Who in their right mind would go through all the trouble.

Jason heard a sound from around the corner of the room he was in. It sounded like the door was opening.

Jason braced himself. Danny walked in carrying two bags, one with two steaks and the other with a case of beer. He didn't make it a habit to drink but he knew that the beer could be an olive branch.

There was just one problem, how would he eat with his helmet on. Maybe Danny could wrap up the food for the vigilante after he is done cooking it so he could eat in peace.

At least that was the plan. Danny almost shrieked when he saw the vague outline of a man's head.

HE TOOK OFF HIS HELMET!

Danny closed his eyes tight and blindly made his way to kitchen tripping in the process.

Jason had been expecting some thug, what he got was this. A healthy man.

He watched as Danny fumbled around trying not to look at Jason's face. He decided enough was enough when he heard a loud 'thump' followed by a silent "fuck~".

Jason put his helmet on and made his way to where Danny was. Danny stood up.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting that" Danny said.

"Who are you?"

Danny didn't answer.

"I'm a doctor"

Jason felt a little frustrated, he was asking for a name.

"Im trying my best to stay out of your way, I only helped you because you were bleeding out in an alleyway and as a doctor I couldn't ignore that"

"And your making food because?"

Danny grew red.

"I'm hungry" Danny said.

"That's a lot of food for one person"

"I figured you would need something to eat, I was going to wrap it up for you"

"No need I'll eat here-"

"NO!"

Jason almost flinched.

"Sorry, I just, if you take off your helmet and I see you, then you'll be watching me so I don't tell anyone who you are. I don't have time for that"

Jason was even more intrigued. This guy acted like he was a vigilante.

"You seem familiar with this kind of stuff"

Danny shook his head.

"No, not really"

Danny started cooking the steaks.

"If you want to take off your helmet you can go to the next room. I'll let you know when the foods done."

"Alright" Jason said numbly before slipping out of the room. The only other room was the one he woke up in and the bathroom. So naturally he started snooping.

Not that there was much to find.

"It's ready!"  Jason bumped into a wall in surprise and knocked a cork board off the wall.

"Shit!" Jason said as he picked it up. He felt something on the other side. Jason flipped it around and laid it on the table.

It seemed like this person was gathering Intel on the biggest crooks in Gotham, he even knew who was "compromised".

"Is that...me?"

There was a picture of Jason that he had never seen before, it was of himself standing on a rooftop.

"I look kinda like Batman" Jason thought for a second.

"I'm coming in" Danny announced. Jason scrambled to put on his helmet but he wasn't able to return the cork board in time.

"Oh no" Danny said setting down the food before he took the cork board he checked it over making sure everything was intact.

"This is just research so I can better understand my patients, It's nothing weird"

Jason put up his hands.

"I don't think it's weird that you have a crock board full of pictures, especially mine. Nope, that not weird"

Danny let out an exhausted laugh.

"Yeah I had to pay for that one, it just reminded me of someone, not that it matters"

"What, did it remind you of Batman?"

"Ha, no. You looked lonely but free, I- know someone who can relate to that"

"Lonely but free" Jason muttered.

"Anyways here" Danny said holding the food out to Jason.

"I hope we never meet again, in a good way"

Jason grinned beneath the helmet.

"I hope we do" he opened the window.

"See you later Doctor" he said waving before leaping gracefully out of the window, food in hand.

"Wait what?" Danny asked.

"Do not!" Danny shouted out the window.

"Do not come back!"

Jason shook his head, there was no way he was going to leave him alone, call it curiosity but Danny wasn't different from most Gothamites.

And he wanted to know more about him. Danny's reluctance to know Jason made him want to get closer even more.

Danny sighed, there was no way he could shake a vigilante off his trail. He just hoped Jason didn't interrupt his work or his research.

[peachesofteal]

@luminousbeings-crudematter has me sick over the idea of Simon being your insufferable ex.

18+ MDNI / explicit sexual content (I wrote this on my phone so mind the mistakes)

It’s not that you didn’t love Simon. You did. You still do. But love had turned into something else, within months, had turned into heartbreak, and anxiety, and pain. The waiting, the worrying. Standing in the doorway at two AM, wondering if he’s going to let you touch him this time or if he’s going to shut you out for days, disappearing into a shell of himself. Becoming the Ghost that haunts your house, instead of your boyfriend.

It was too much. And not enough. All at the same time.

He said he understood. It felt so mutual, when he held you the night of the break up. He rubbed your back and kissed your tear stained cheeks, telling you not to blame yourself, telling you that he was okay, that you’d be okay, that everything would be just fine.

So, you started to try moving on, pieced yourself together and started get back out in the world, tried feel the sun on your face. You went to dinner and brunches with your friends, picked up a new hobby, went back to yoga. You were healing, even starting to think about dating again, bandaging the gaping hole in your heart with tape and glue, anything to cover up the ache that still lingered there.

There was just one little problem.

“Si, we can’t-“

“Hush.” He sticks a thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, manhandling your jaw wide as his other hand unzips his jeans, reaching to free his cock, heavy and hot in his grip, nearly too thick to be believed, fat tip already leaking. Your knees slide against the cold ground of the grimy pub bathroom, thighs pressing together without conscious effort. “I like this dress, love.” He hums as he thrusts the length of his cock down into your mouth, hot skin sliding against your tongue, pushing all the way down your throat until you can’t breathe. “Fuck, that’s it.” You peer up at him through your tears, watching the way his head tips back, adams apple bobbing with a swallow. He’s wearing the mask, the black cotton one, and you can see why your date was so freaked out. From this angle, he looks terrifying. Giant, broad muscled shoulders and arms forced into a black sweatshirt, most of his face hidden by the mask and hood.

No wonder your date didn’t say a word when he suddenly appeared at your table, gripping you by your elbow, excusing you from your meal.

“Simon, what are you doing he-“

“Sorry mate, can I borrow her for a moment?”

“That’s my girl.” He grunts, fingers tugging at the straps of your dress, jerking you closer. He doesn’t force himself too far, but you take as much as you can willingly, letting him smash your nose into the hair at the base of his cock, tears smarting with every half breath. “You were made for this cock, sweetheart.” He fucks your face, coaching you through it the entire time, telling you how good you are, how sweet and perfect, and how you’ll never be able to replace him.

He puts you back together so tenderly afterwards, wiping your face, kissing you softly as he fixes your hair.

“You can’t go back to that table now. Want me to take you for dinner?” He asks innocently, like he didn’t just give you a belly full of come. You glower at him, but he just smiles under the mask, eyes scrunching just so, handsome in a way that completely devastates you every time.

“This is the last time.” You grumble, fixing your dress as you stalk out the bathroom, down the dark back hall to the emergency exit. He’s hot on your heels, fingers casually brushing the swell of your ass, the echo of his half mocking, half sincere chuckle ringing in your ears. “Simon, I’m serious, I-“ He cuts you off, dragging the mask down to press his lips to yours, tasting what’s left of him in your mouth before pulling away.

“What makes you think I’m not serious?”

I know for a fact he threatens to give you a baby every time he fucks you. Presses you into missionary and makes you look at him as he whispers about how he knows exactly how to fix this.

[werelosingdaylight]

Intimate Mornings

Chishiya Shuntaro x GN!Reader

REQUESTED? [Yes] • No

REQUEST: Hi could I request domestic moment with chishiya, like hdcs or anything idc, im a slut for this man and I need domestic moment with him ☹️👍 (the brainrot is very real)

WORD COUNT: 771

SUMMARY| Mornings with Chishiya had always been your favorite, especially after a rough game.

Adm Note: I’m back after a year, I might be a little rusty. I did not specify what the reader looked like or any pronouns! Everyone is included. <3

Sunlight broke through the blue skies with beams of light, peaking through the window to give false loving caresses to the skin of your lovers face, like it was trying to make you envious of the ethereal glow that encapsulates him. Chishiya slept peacefully beside you, his arm slung loosely over your waist, his face didn't hold its usual coldness; a mask he carefully crafted together from hardened clay to protect himself.

Without much thought to your actions you pulled your hand from where it laid motionless under the blanket, taking the physically clean hand and running it through his messy locks of hair. You often wondered if every touch you gave him darkened his soul, the soul that shimmered such a vibrant gold it could blind you.

Where as your soul laid withered up, being cloaked by the shadows lingering in your mind, tormenting you with memories of the things you have done to survive in the borderlands. Crimson stains washed away down the shower drain like it was nothing but dirt spread across your skin.

His hair was soft, like how you imagined clouds to feel as a child. It was familiar and warm to your touch, like an old soul greeting you upon your death, lighting you up with a sense of complete wholeness.

Slowly your hand moved from its place where you were daring to dance your fingers through each piece and wondering if you would turn to gold from touching the hair upon his head.

Trailing down his cheek you relish in the warmth rolling off his skin in waves, a frown pulling at the corner of your lips as you notice a cut along the crown of his forehead, not deep enough to need stitches but it would need to be cleaned.

Running your thumb softly along the cut, a sigh crawled it’s way out of your throat with ragged claws tearing into your windpipe, mindlessly beating against your voice box. “Chishiya…” You whispered, getting no response you tried again to awaken your slumbering boyfriend.

“Chishiya.” Your voice was louder, causing him to stir, his eyes fluttering open at the feeling of being looked at so tenderly. A small sleep filled smile was shot your way, making your heart thud wildly against your rib cage.

Pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips you wordlessly got up, ignoring a whining protest from Chishiya that tugged at your heart strings; he always had been clingy when he was tired.

Entering the bathroom you grabbed a wash cloth, letting the cold water seep through the fabric and pool onto your fingertips before the droplets slid down your hands back into the sink.

Opening the cabinets you grabbed a bandage, rubbing alcohol, and the ointment. Hearing a soft shuffle, that alerted you to the fact your boyfriend was on the move, you moved to the doorway.

“Nuh-uh, lay back down. You’re injured and have five days on your visa.” You made your way over to his side of the bed, sitting down hesitantly beside him. You took care of the bigger injuries last night, including the huge gash along his side from a flying piece of metal.

As gently as you could, you pushed Chishiyas shoulders back, having him leaning against the headboard of the bed. Shifting carefully as to not bother his stitches.

Chishiya rolled his eyes at you being so careful, a yelp of surprise escaping you as two hands pulled you into his lap in a straddling position. “Chishiya! I could have hurt you.” You weren’t normally one to complain about sitting on your boyfriends lap, especially if it’s in the privacy of your own room, but you didn’t want to irritate or reopen his wound.

Chishiya let out what sounded like an annoyed clicking with his tongue “You didn’t hurt me, if anything being this close with you makes me feel better.” Your insides melted at his words, despite him not being the best with emotions they always managed to make you a puddle in his hand.

A soft smile crossed your lips, unable to hold back the warmth that spread throughout your chest, how could you when he looked at you like you crafted every star in his name? Like you shaped every galaxy and creature just to cure his loneliness?

You softly brushed his hair away from the cut, dabbing the wet cloth to clean the dried up blood that escaped and now painted dried ponds on his skin. You know soon enough you will both have to get up, but for now you will soak up the small moments.

[sakkiichi]

NOT IF IT’S YOU.

“I’ll take care of you.”

“It’s rotten work.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Luka, Seele x gn! reader.

genre/cw: angst to fluff, feelings of not being good enough, mentions of blood & injury, but soft comforting vibes.

✧ JING YUAN

Muffled cries and a darkened room are all the company you wish for tonight.

You messed up.

You utterly and completely fucked up.

Not only were you not able to catch the stellaron hunter, but you also got severely injured.

In your defense, the guy was skilled with that wicked sword of his.

And yet, that doesn’t make you feel any better.

Pressing your hand down your bloody side, you reach home.

And for the first time since you started dating him, you really hope the general is already asleep tonight.

The creaking of the wooden door makes you cringe when you enter the main hall, memorized steps guiding you to the bathroom.

Hopefully you’ll be able to patch yourself up without making too much noise.

A low purr greets you when you reach your destination’s door.

“Shhh, Mimi, please…” you utter, weakly, patting her fur with the hand that’s not soaked in blood. “Be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” The lion purrs again, as if unsatisfied, sensing something’s clearly amiss.

Wincing, you close the bathroom’s door behind yourself, pent up tears blurring your vision as you rummage the cabinets for disinfectant and some bandages.

“And just about what do you think you’re doing?” A familiar baritone sternly asks.

You stop in your tracks, a roll of bandage in your bloodstained hand.

“Jing Yuan…” you meekly manage. “Sorry I woke you up.” You lower the dressings in your grasp, defeated.

“You’re bleeding yourself out and me having woken up is your first concern?” He asks, disbelieving, leaning off the doorframe, walking towards you.

“I’m not bleeding myself out, general.” You respond through gritted teeth, your tone harsher than intended. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

And yet, the pained hiss you let out begs to differ.

“Let me see.” Your lover prompts, placing a calloused hand on your shoulder.

“No!” You pull away from his touch, something you had never done before. “I already told you, it’s just a scratch, it’s not worth worrying over, I’m not worth worrying over...”

“Don’t say that again.”

Jing Yuan’s tone leaves no room for argument, steely as the spear he wields. His usually soft amber eyes are akin to raging embers now, glueing you in place, a gelid chill running down your spine.

“But it’s tr-“

“Don’t. Don’t let me hear it.” The arbiter general cuts off, his voice a contrast to the tenderness with which he takes the stained gauze from you.

And under the warmth of his touch, you let yourself be shielded by the rainfalls of lightning with which he’d struck down any who dared hurt you.

Careful hands remove your sticky shirt, a deep gash criss-crossing your abdomen in ominous shades of crimson. With as much softness as he can muster, your lover applies antiseptic, stinging pinpricks in his wake.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” You mumble, voice milliseconds away from breaking. “It’s trouble, I’m trouble, I failed the mission and now you have to patch me up and take care of m-“

Slightly parched lips land on yours, ardently, as if wanting to cauterize the raw soreness from your open wound. Jing Yuan’s hands settle on your waist, like stitches putting shards of you back together, your brokenness, a myriad of pieces glued back into a colorful mosaic.

And in his healing hold, you let yourself fall, because you know no matter how small the pieces, by his side, you’ll find a way to solve the puzzle.

“You are never trouble to me.” Is your general’s affirmation when he pulls away, leaving a lingering kiss on your brow as he begins wrapping your gaping wound.

Perhaps this once, you’ll believe it, you think, as the ache dulls and exhaustion starts to take over.

✧ BLADE

The moment you see his weapon fly out of his grasp, all caution is thrown to the wind.

You weren’t used to the sight of him anything but defeating with ease any who dared to cross him.

Yet now, he bleeds.

Staggering to the side, Blade tries to reach for his discarded sword.

To no avail, for he drops to his knees, sickly crimson pooling at his feet.

Whatever cursed fragmentum creature he’s parrying against will land its last strike.

You can’t imagine a world without Blade. Without Ren.

Not like this, not ever.

The next sound in the desolate battlefield is the clang of metal against metal and your strained grunts.

“[Y/n]…” your lover musters, barely any strength left in his usually steely tone. “Go…”

“Like hell I’m leaving you here!” You yell back, your muscles sore from blocking the enemy’s fatal blow. “I’m not abandoning you, Ren!” A lone tear slides from the corner of your eyes, because of the effort or the thought of a world where you don’t get to wake up by Blade’s side, you are not sure.

“[Y/n]… I’m done for.” He coughs.

“Shut up, shut up, shut the hell up!” You scream, now locked in combat with the creature launching their piercing weapons at you.

You manage to dodge a few of its pounces, ducking and parrying as best you can.

But eventually, their chainsaw-like armament grazes your collarbone, your sky shattering cry hurting Blade more than the deadly wounds he bears.

You can’t let this end here.

Mustering strength from aeons know where, you impale your own weapon into the monster’s middle.

Flecks of fiery dust fly around you, before the construct goes up in flames, the image burning in your teary gaze.

“Ren!” You call, running to kneel by his broken form.

“Why?” The stellaron hunter wonders, ebony hair plastered to his face, deep night skies shadowing the underside of his ruby eyes. His bleeding hand reaches to cup the side of your face. “Why did you save me? I’m rotten.”

If it wasn’t because the guy is quite literally holding himself together in tatters, you’d be slapping some sense into him.

Instead, tears stained in yours and his shades of red careen down your cheeks.

“You are not! You never are! And you never will be to me!” You fling your arms around him, holding his weakened body as close to your heartbeat as possible.

Blade never believed in angels, but tonight, you might as well have been one. His savior in a battlefield where he otherwise would have breathed for the last time.

✧ DAN HENG

Night stars and daylight seem to mingle together lately.

Aboard the astral express, you find yourself buried in work. Records from expeditions, blueprints from parts of the train you need to memorize should they need repairing, leads and clues on the whereabouts of the stellaron hunters… the lines of text begin to blur before your tired eyes, eliciting a sigh from your lips.

It might be good to go grab a coffee, you muse.

But looking at the time, you should work for a while longer without distractions, you really could use a breakthrough in the stellaron investigation… Everyone’s working so hard, and the last thing you want is to be dead weight.

As you stretch your arms and attempt to re-focus on your task, three knocks resound through your room’s quiet.

Resignation makes itself apparent on your tone when you ask:

“What is it?”

“It’s just me.” A familiar voice, smooth as a breeze combing through greenery states.

“Dan Heng!” A relaxed smile tugs at your lips, as you get up from your desk to let him in. No matter how many galaxies you transversed, Dan Heng’s presence was always the brightest constellation to you.

Now, it’s not like you can admit your feelings to him, but you’ll enjoy this fond closeness you have now while you can.

“You’re still up?” You prompt, more of a statement than an actual question. “What brings you here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” He deadpans, arms crossed over his chest.

“Work.” You sheepishly say, with a mirthless smile.

“Have you eaten?” The dark haired man questions, the lilt of his tone indicating he is very much aware of how you have indeed not dined.

“Uh… I drank fruit juice and coffee? A while ago?”

Now it’s his turn to sigh in exasperation.

“How many times will it take of me repeating it to you for you to take care?”

“Sorry.” You lower your head. You know your friend is right and you’ve been neglecting yourself, but can you be blamed? The amount of work you took on is hefty, to say the least.

“Since you aren’t doing it yourself, let me take care of you.” His aquamarine eyes pierce through you, but they hold a warm gentleness to them. Every time you get lost in his gaze, you feel like you’re swimming in luminescent lakes under a thousand starry nights.

However, the reverie is short lived.

When you feel his hand around your wrist, pulling you out of your airless room, a shadow of guilt lodges at the back of your mind.

“Dan Heng, I can’t let you do that.” You stop in your tracks, averting your gaze, not allowing yourself the pleasure to dip in the profound waters of his eyes.

“Why not?” The boy’s hold on you slackens a little.

“You have enough work yourself, I can’t burden you anymore…” You mumble the last part, but it doesn’t escape him.

“You’re not a burden.” The wielder of cloud piercer assures you, incisively.

His hold on you tightens a little, his hand descending to find yours.

“But surely you’d prefer spending your time doing something more fun or, I don’t know, useful, at least…”

“No, I wouldn’t.” He responds. His hand squeezes yours in silent reassurance.

You could get used to his touch.

You’d like it very much, actually.

Instead, self-doubt robs you of your voice again tonight.

“Why?” Is the question echoing in between the corridor’s walls.

“Because I like- no, because I love you.” Is Dan Heng’s confession, cheeks matching the maroon of the maple leaves you’ve sometimes studied together.

Loud heartbeats and frenzied euphoria mingle in your chest, your hand squeezing his this time.

“What? Really? No, don’t get me wrong, it’s good- I mean, thank you- I mean, are you sure? Because I’m flattered but- Well, I love you t-“

Your speech is cut short by familiar hands steadying your shoulders. Dan Heng heaves a shaky breath, then:

“I’m going to show you how sure I am.”

A second later, his lips carefully, tentatively, envelop yours. It’s hesitating, and your noses bump a few times, but, to you, it couldn’t be any more perfect.

Your hands find themselves clinging to the front of his shirt, his still poised on your shoulders.

And as you leave fields of stars behind and enter new woods of shining asteroids, you finally let yourself submerge in the pools of jade contained in the mysterious man’s gaze.

Taking a break was certainly worth it, is the thought crossing your mind, as you lean in for another less innocent kiss.

✧ LUKA

“Ouch!”

“Stay still, Luka.”

“But it stings!”

“Oh and the blows you took out there didn’t?”

“But I won, right?”

“You always say that, yet at what cost?”

That is the currently ongoing conversation (or scolding, depending on how you look at it); the same one that repeats every week, after every victory he achieves in the fighting ring.

Because no matter how many times he emerges as victor, Luka always comes back to you beaten up and bruised. Bloody sometimes too, and you can only be grateful for no fractured bones.

You were no healer, but you still remember the first time you saw him fight.

—

It was his first ever combat, against a much bigger opponent.

Luka was smiling when his arm was lifted announcing his victory, and yet, you will never be able to shake off the sight of his concealed flinches every time his chest rose and fell.

His bruised ribs didn’t escape you.

In the same way that you didn’t miss the redhead lingering for a while after the crowd had dissipated.

Those coughs of his naturally wouldn’t let him go too far.

“Hey, are you alright?” You approached him.

“Sure, I’m fine!” The fighter tried to smile, only for it to turn into a fit of coughing that didn’t sound good at all, especially not with how he keeps holding his sides every time his ribcage so much as slightly stirs.

“No, you’re not fine.” You scoffed, arms crossed over your chest. “You have a black eye, your ribs look bruised and you’re limping. How is that being fine, again?”

“I’ll get through it.” He smiled. His blue eyes glinted in the dim light of the venue, akin to patches of clear sky in the soot-filled air of the underworld.

“How exactly? Passing out from pain? Come on, sit down, I’ll patch you up.” You offered, hurrying around the rundown gym, in search for something resembling a first aid kit.

“You don’t need to-“

“No buts.” You stated, leveling him with a gaze, pointing at him with a newly acquired roll of bandages.

—

“You know, you don’t have to waste your time on m-“ he tries to retort now, summer ocean eyes averted, his usual smile replaced by a frown you’re not fond of.

“Luka.” You stop him before he can continue his self deprecation.

“But you could be doing so much bette-“

“I won’t hear it.” You cut off, applying more pressure than needed while disinfecting a cut on his cheekbone. “We’ve already talked about this. You keep getting roughened up on the battlefield, I’ll be here to patch you up. No buts.”

A smile crosses the redhead’s face, the swirling typhoons in his gaze calming down to ripples over a lake. But still, some clouds linger over the surface, no sunlight quite filtering through in harp like beams underwater.

“Don’t you get tired, though?” Luka ventures, hesitation and bashfulness lacing his tone.

“Never when it comes to you.” You assure him, without having to think twice. “And no buts.”

“No buts, huh?” The corner of his lips curves upward, the cheeky smirk you always adored back. “But what if I asked you to kiss it better, would you?” The fiery haired warrior teases.

“Oh, you…” And yet, you can’t hide the wide smile helplessly illuminating your features.

Softly, your lips brush over each of the clean bandages you applied.

And Luka could swear your lips are better than any painkiller.

“There, all healed.” You whisper when you pull away, enchanted by the lights dancing in the sapphire expanse of his stare.

“Not yet.” He breathes, pulling you to him by the hand, your weight falling against his bare chest.

“Luka…” Is all you can muster before he’s kissing you full on the lips, his hands on the small of your back, the softness of his skin and the iron-hardness of metal making your every hair stand on end. You cup his face tenderly, brushing sweaty auburn strands away, as you drown in the colliding waves of his intense tide.

“Now I’m all healed.” Are Luka’s words when he pulls away, dopey smile adorning his bruised face.

You’re definitely never getting tired of this.

✧ SEELE

By moonlight, she waits.

From her vantage point on the rooftop of Goethe Grand Hotel, Seele counts down the seconds for your return.

She’s noticed.

Your leaves in the dead of every night, when you think everyone’s sleeping soundly.

Your returns before dawn, covered in dust and bruises.

The puffiness and redness of your eyes, the shadows under them.

In the starless silence, the butterfly stills her wings, listening to the steps crossing Boulder Town’s plaza.

With a swift motion, the wildfire fighter steps down from her perch, leaning against the hotel’s front wall.

“Good night to you too.” Seele calls.

Your eyes widen in shock. Why is she here now? She wasn’t supposed to see you in such a state.

“Seele! You startled me…” You try for a reassuring smile, as if to say ‘hey, everything’s fine’, but alas, when it came to you, nothing escaped Babochka.

“Cut the act, will you?” She scoffs, a hand resting on her hip. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?”

“Nothing’s going on.” You meekly answer, tone cold and distant.

Your girlfriend’s violet gaze dilates, concern overtaking her frown.

This detached iciness… This isn’t like you at all.

But Seele’s forte were never hugs and promises for better days to come, no. A fighter honed in battles for a mere glass of water, she always knew how to hit you with honesty, a scythe shredding the rainclouds dampening your light.

“So, are you going to keep looking miserable and isolating yourself?” She scoffs. “Be for real, you are barely talking, you leave at ungodly hours every night and you look like you’ve been crying for ages every morning. So are you going to tell me what’s wrong already?”

You heave a breath, the simple action exhausting.

“I just… I don’t feel like I deserve anyone… I’m not a good enough fighter, I’m not smart enough, I don’t really… I’m not proud of my personality and just…” you inhale, the night breeze unbearably frigid, even though the weather’s not even cold. “These nights, I’ve been going into the mines, to try and help, I guess, or to avoid thinking…” your shoulders slump.

Seele sighs, the bite in her tone completely faded, concern and care lingering as the indigo pigments of a butterfly caught in your palm.

“You can talk to me, you know?” She says, softer this time, her hand finding your blistered one from these last days.

“I know, I just… I don’t want to be a bother…”

“You never are, silly.” Your lover flicks your forehead, wrapping strong arms around your trembling form. “You never are.”

Quiet sniffles escape you at her warm embrace.

You had missed this.

You had missed her.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” Seele utters, barely above a whisper, like a monarch’s flutter.

You nod, wiping the tears that started falling, glinting in your lashes like doomed satellites.

“I love you, never forget that.” Is your partner’s promise, with the moon as witness.

For the first time in weeks, you would fly in the sweetness of dreams tonight. By her side.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[celabi]

Some soft scara for the soul 🫶

Clumsy !reader who’s always tripping over her own two feet. she keeps her eyes up and doesn’t bother to look at the ground below her. most of the time it costs her her footing, and she falls face first to the floor more times then she can count. It really gives Scaramouche a scare, every time he’s unable to grab you just before you hit the ground, he winces. though to make up for it, he is always quick to come to your care. dropping beside you and helping you stand back up. his hand reaching for the bandages in his pocket that he keeps spare just for this occasion.

He cleans the dirt from your knees, and like his mother did when he was a child, kisses the scraps on your palms to try and take away the pain. they’re always fresh wounds when he does it, and it’s stings when his lips make contact, but the worried look in his eyes every time he patches you up makes you refrain from commenting.

His voice is so soft too. something along the lines of “oh my sweet girl, where does it hurt?” while he’s tending to your injuries. telling you to watch where you’re walking so you don’t litter your pretty skin with scratches. It keeps him on his toes, and he hates it…but at the same time can’t help but like it. like how he gets to care for you whenever your trip over. being able to hold your hand and run his thumb over your knuckles in a silent effort to try and comfort you. he knows that it does nothing, but he still tries.

Clumsy !reader who does it again. her head in the clouds and too distracted by the world around her to notice the small crack in the pavement. and before you or Scara knew what was happening, your foot gets caught and you end up tumbling to the floor. The hard concrete showing little kindness to your sudden greeting, going far as to knock the wind from your lungs and leaving you short of breath. you whimper in pain, unable to balance your landing. the loose stones from the road dig into your flesh uncomfortably, only adding onto your misery.

Scara knew he should have kept you closer, a closer eye on his surroundings so maybe he could have prevented this. and though it’s really not the big deal he makes it out to be, he’s still upset. He quickly discards the bag he was holding somewhere behind him before dropping right beside you, one hand on your back while the other softly pulls you up by the arm. He’s cooing reassurances into your ear, soft murmurs of ‘you’re alright, my love’ and ‘it’s okay, don’t be upset.’ as he helps you up to your feet.

Your little fall had for some reason grabbed the attention of a few by passers, but they don’t stare for long because Scaramouche is quick to scare them off with a small, angry glare. and while it successfully does the job, it’s doesn’t stop the small tears of embarrassment flooding your eyes. to have people watch you make a fool of yourself, in public no less, is just so humiliating that you can’t help but cower into your boyfriends side to try and hide yourself. It’s not the time to be flustered, but he can’t help but swoon at your cuteness. he’s able to quickly snap out of it though, and leads you over towards a bench, sitting you down before taking place beside you.

Your palms are scraped, small drops of blood escaping from your open scratch. It makes you frown, these dark red stains on your brand new sweater will one hundred percent be a pain to wash out. Scaramouche watches as you eye your sleeve, and takes notice of your annoyance, placing his hand on your thigh and running smooth circles on your skin to try soothing you. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new one.” he whispers, and nudges closer towards you, where the warmth radiating from him body mends with your own. he’d like to be as close as possible, and if you say anything about his neediness, he already has a plan to blame the cold.

“There’s no need for that.” you shake your head, making no complaints when he takes ahold of your hand and brings it towards his chest, where a handkerchief he pulled out from his pocket starts to wipe at your wound. His eyes dart continuously from your palm to your face, where he watches you bite your lip in discomfort when he accidentally presses down a bit too hard. he curses himself, and lightens his touch as to not hurt you further, the last thing he ever wanted to do. Scaramouche apologises, a small ‘sorry, baby.’ he whispers to you, and pulls your hand up to his lips where he places small kisses along your wrist.

Anyways, just clumsy !reader always tripping over her feet, and scara who’s always there to pick her back up again.

[miniwheat77]

141 + König finding out reader has had long term struggles with Self Harm.

This was a request, you can find the ask here.

!CW! Self harm, talk of attempted suicide, (sorry if I missed any.)

König:

Tears stream down your face, you’re looking desperately for anything. Any kind of Razor or sharp object. It’s late at night, you can’t find anything. Usually you would just break a mirror, or anything glass around you. But this isn’t your house. This mirror isn’t yours to break. You’ve done so good but recently, it’s been hard. You’re struggling every day. You managed to cover up the scars to enter the military and hid them very well with your uniforms. You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub in the bathroom you’re in, trying to calm yourself. You don’t hear the bathroom door open because you’re in your own head. You don’t notice anything until large hands are grasping your wrists. “It’s okay, liebling.” His deep accented voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He sees the old scars that litter your wrists, holding onto them tightly. “You’ve made it so far, done so good. Why ruin that now?” He mumbles. His hood covers his face but you can see the sadness in his eyes. “I’m just struggling lately.” You sniffle. “It’s okay. We all struggle.” He breathes. He holds onto you tightly, he’s trying to ground you, bring you back down to earth. “Look at me. Take a deep breath with me.” He breathes. “You’re okay.” He takes in a deep breath, and you follow him. Taking in a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He lifts your hand up so that he could get a better look. There’s clearly years of scars littering your wrists. Tears stream down your face. “I didn’t think that you would like me.”

König laughs bitterly behind his hood. “Sweetheart.. nothing is going to change the way that I feel about. Especially not scars. Scars mean you’re healing. Heilung ist alles” he lifts your chin up to look at him. “When you feel like this, you tell me. Verstanden?” He is stern. “Understood..” you look down. “Now, time for bed. I got you.” He scoops you up, carrying you back to your bed.

Ghost:

Your hands tremble, blood pooling at the bottom of your wrist before dripping onto the linoleum flooring. Your right hand holds a razor, now coated in your own blood. It’s a curse. The way that you relied on the shiny metal to ground you. Bring you back to earth. Your eyes are bloodshot, tears stain your cheeks. You should have been better about locking the door, because the handle twists, and Ghost steps inside. You scramble up, throwing your wrists behind your back. “Shit- sorry.” He mumbles, voice deafening as he notices the blood on the ground. “Are you hurt? What happened?” He takes a step toward you. “I.. I just scratched myself earlier. No big deal.” You lie.

He narrows his eyes, eyeing the way you’re holding not just one of your hands behind your back, but both. “Let me see them.” He demands, taking another step forward. “There’s no need for that, I’m okay.” You laugh. He grasps hold of your arms, pulling hard on you. A cry leaves your lips and he forces you to show him what you’ve done. Not only are there fresh cuts, but there’s more. There are some faded, clearly from years of self harm. He swallows hard, choosing not to say anything. He pulls on your arms, forcing you toward the sink, running the fresh wounds under the water. “Deep breath.” He mumbles, reaching into the medicine cabinet and pouring peroxide over the wounds. You hiss and try to pull away but he keeps you there. He helps you bandage up, not saying anything and you worry about what he’s going to say. He doesn’t say anything, instead, pulling you into him and hugging you tightly. “No more. I mean it. I will chain you up to a pipe and you will suffer if you do this ever again.” He grumbles. Hearing you laugh. “I mean it Y/N. No more of this. You’re too good to be doing this to yourself.” He hides the fact that he has tears in his eyes.

Captain Price:

His eyes catch a single glimpse by accident during a meeting. He often wondered why you only ever wore long sleeves but now, it all made sense. “Y/N, my office.” He nods. You nod your head, following behind him. He opens the door, closing it after you walk in. “What did you need?” You ask. “What did you need me for, John?” You ask. He grasps hold of your wrist, pushing your sleeve up. You try to pull your hand away but he has a tight hold on you. They’re old, none are new. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a past with this?” He asks. You swallow hard. “I don’t know.. it was just something really dumb that I did as a teenager. I stopped right before I joined the military.” You mumble. “Do you still feel this way?” He asks. “I’ll always feel that little devil on my shoulder, but I can control it now.” You shrug. He nods. He grasps your hips, pulling you into him. Kissing you a little harder than he usually would, pressing his forehead to yours once he pulls away. “You come to me whenever you feel like hurting yourself. Okay?” He is stern. You nod your head. “I love you. And I need you here with me.” He lifts your hand up, kissing your wrists. You weren’t sure how you ended up being with someone so kind, someone so gentle with you. But you needed it. You almost never felt like hurting yourself when he was around you. He was too supportive and reassuring. He did his best to keep you safe and that’s everything to you. “I love you too John.” You smile. Kissing him again.

He lifts you up by your thighs, setting you on top of his desk and cupping the sides of your head to kiss you even harder. “I’ve got you now, we all do. And I’m proud of you for doing so good. So fucking proud of you for overcoming this.” He breathes.

Soap:

You only ever wore shorts when you were alone. Because you had scars on the tops of your thighs. They were easier to hide. You forget to set your alarm one night, so Soap makes his way into your room to wake you, catching a glimpse of one of your exposed thighs. Seeing the small white lines. They’re old, but the meaning behind them breaks his heart immediately. He swallows hard, sitting down on the side of your bed, running his fingers along them. When he leans down and kisses them, you stir in your sleep just a little, eyes opening. “Johnny? What are you doing?” You mumble. “You didn’t tell me.” He mumbles, you realize he’s running the pad of his thumb over the raised lines. Your lips part slightly and you can’t explain yourself. “I’m sorry…” you breath. He looks up at you. “Do you do it anymore?” He asks. “Not for a couple weeks.” You breathe. He nods his head. “Every time you do this to yourself, I’ll do it to my own thigh.” He looks at you, what he says is toxic. He knows it.

“What?” You ask. “Every little bit of damage you do to yourself, I will do to myself. You cut yourself, I cut myself. And I’ll look, everyday if I have to.” He mumbles. “Johnny.” You sigh. “No. Your skin is too fucking beautiful for this. You’re better than this.” He breathes. He leans down. Kissing your forehead. “I’m here now. I’m here to talk to, vent to. Anything. I’ll keep you safe. But you have to promise me you’ll never do this again.” He raises his pinky up, like you taught him. “Promise?” He swallows hard. You smile, eyes filling with tears. “Okay Johnny.” You link your pinky with his. “I promise.” He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. Hand cupping your scars. He didn’t want to draw his hand away from you. He hated that you’d do this to yourself. You were so perfect. Too good for this.

Gaz:

Gaz is who found you. It was an accident, but he didn’t know it. You had cut too deep. He found you a few minutes later.

He sits beside your hospital bed, eyes burning and bloodshot. He’d almost lost the love of his life. And not even at the hands of a terrorist. It burns him inside, how he didn’t know sooner. It stings even more that you hid it from him. He went through your entire house, finding razors taped under the sink. He threw everything out. He was mad, sure. But he was heartbroken. Shattered by the fact that you were struggling so hard but chose to keep it to yourself. When your eyes flutter open and he sees you, you’re confused at first. “Kyle? What happened?” You ask. He nods to your wrists, and you move them to look at yourself. Blood running cold. “You barely made it.” He mumbles. “I.. I didn’t mean to.” You mumble. “Why?” He asks. It’s the one question he almost never got to ask you. “I.. I don’t know.” Tears stream from your eyes. “I almost lost you. You would’ve left me. With unanswered questions. With nothing.” He sighs. “I’m sorry Kyle.” You cry. He lowers his head. Tears spilling from his eyes. He sniffles, trying to force them back. But he can’t. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just.. I get so angry at myself. I was just trying to take my anger out. I didn’t mean to.. to..” you can’t even say it. He sighs. “You come to me. No more of this Y/N. If I lose you…” he can’t finish his sentence without his voice breaking. “I’m here. I have you now. No more of this. We’re getting you the help you need. And I’ll be right there with you along the way.” He stares at you. You nod your head. “Okay.. okay Kyle.” You breathe. He was right.

[carlsdarling]

Might be a hard one. Carl first arrived to Alexandria, reader was a model before the apocalypse (so she's like really beautiful ). (Smut or fluff your choice <3) and he finds out that reader also has a crush on him. And he's just so proud that he got with a model, telling everyone about it<3 sorry if this is difficult. Love your work btw 💖

Beautiful

Carl has a crush on Y/N, but after his accident, he doesn't dare to ask her out... Bit of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (male receiving)

Before the fall, you were an aspiring model, you had already started as a kid and were planning to move to LA. But the apocalypse ruined everything.

When Carl Grimes arrived in Alexandria, you didn't pay much attention to him at first; he was just some guy. Of course he stared at you and had a crush on you - they all did, especially before the fall, when such things played a bigger role. But you weren't interested in Carl for a long time, he was your age and you liked older guys more.

It was only over time, when you started hanging out with the others more often, that you began to like Carl - his courage, his lovable character, his pretty blue eyes and the dark hair that always fell in his face.

Carl, for his part, had just gotten around to asking you out, but before that could happen, the accident occurred in which he lost his eye. After that, Carl withdrew completely, which you thought was a shame because you enjoyed his company.

Carl didn't want to see anyone anymore. You went to his house several times, but Rick or Michonne regretfully turned you away each time because Carl locked himself in his room anyway and wouldn't let anyone in. Eventually, though, you had enough. There was a big birch tree right below Carl's window, and you quickly climbed up it, scrambled onto a canopy and crawled up to Carl's window to knock vigorously.

An astonished sound could be heard from inside, then the curtains were pushed aside and Carl stared at you perplexed - out of the one eye he still had. The wound was covered with a bandage. It was the first time you had seen each other since the accident, and Carl seemed hesitant as to whether he should even open the window. "Carl!" you said indignantly. "Open up. It's cold."

He reluctantly opened the window, turning away from you. "What do you want?" he asked dismissively.

"To check on you," you replied. "You're just locking yourself in here."

Carl stood with his back to you. "It's my business."

"I thought we were friends?" Carl remained silent. "Won't you even look at me?" Dismayed, you noticed that Carl's shoulders were shaking and you realized that he was sobbing. Tentatively, you approached him to hug him.

Carl clutched your hand and cried. "I... I was going to ask you out," he confessed.

"And why aren't you doing that?"

"That was before I lost my eye," he said gloomily. "Everything's different now. Who wants to go on a date with me now?"

You carefully turned Carl around to face you and stroked his tear-stained cheek. "Me?"

Carl looked at you in disbelief.

"But you're so beautiful. Far too beautiful for me. It was like that before, but now..."

You put your hands up at your sides in disgust. "Carl Grimes! Do you think I'm that shallow? Are you? So if this had happened to me, you wouldn't like me anymore?"

Carl stumbled. "Yes, of course, I... I just thought..." You kissed him on the lips before he could continue. Carl was taken aback, but returned the kiss tenderly. You sank onto the bed, where you continued kissing and began stroking each other. Carl had his eye closed; apparently he wanted to concentrate completely on your activities. You could feel the tension he had been carrying around with him for weeks, all his muscles were hardened, and you came to the conclusion that Carl desperately needed some relaxation and stress relief.

So you slid off the bed, knelt down in front of it and positioned yourself between Carl's legs, gently pushing his knees apart and undoing his belt. "Uum..., what are you doing, Y/N?" Carl asked uncertainly.

"Just let me," you whispered, pulling down his jeans. There was a visible bulge in his blue boxers, and as a small wet patch spread across the fabric, Carl blushed. You let your hand ghost over the bulge slowly.

"You... you don't have to do that," he mumbled. „I can take care of it myself, later.“

"But I want to," you objected and also freed him from his boxer shorts. Carl squirmed, and his cock sprang free, and you were quite surprised by Carl's size - it was big for such a slender boy. Carefully you started to stroke and squeeze his dick and cupped his balls with your hand. Carl let out a soft, delighted sigh and closed his eye as he surrendered to your hands. A few drops of clear precum oozed from the rosy-red tip of his dick, and you rubbed them on the skin of his shaft to ease the glide of your fingers. Carl's moans became louder, he had sunk backwards onto the bed, and he was bucking his hips while you continued to caress him. You accelerated the movements of your fist and felt Carl's cock twitch under your touch, more precum flowed over your hand, and you could tell that Carl was beyond close, his hands clutching the mattress as he submitted to you completely. You let go of him briefly to stroke the soft line of dark hair that ran from his private parts to his belly button, then you breathed gentle kisses on the pale skin around his belly button, continuing on the inside of his thighs and finally sucking intensely on the tip of his throbbing dick.

Carl screamed out with pleasure, thrusting so hard into your willing mouth that you began to gag. "Sorry," he gasped as you let go of him, pleading for you to go on. His hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed, he looked so precious and fucked out.

Once again you began to caress his cock with your lips and tongue. Carl whimpered uncontrollably and was writhing on the bed. "Y/N, I... I'm cumming," he gasped, leaving it up to you to decide whether you wanted to pull away or not. You closed your lips even tighter around his dick, then Carl's whole body tensed, he quivered, and then he released a considerable amount of seed into your mouth, a firework of sticky streams. You swallowed all of it and started licking and sucking Carl clean, then you lay down next to him.

You hugged each other. "That was incredible," Carl whispered in your ear, breathless and heated.

"Do you finally believe me that I like you?" you asked teasingly.

Carl just nodded, and from that moment on, you were inseparable and Carl was so proud to be with you.

--

Tags: @loveforcarl @tessasweet @taylormarieee @knochentrocken0808 @xxcarlswifexx

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: angst, fluff

Summary: Just because you're brought back to him doesn't mean you're going to stop doing what you love. You tried to make a life for yourself by going to college for fashion design. You want to keep normalcy even though you're far from it.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: image prompt (U1) (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

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

x

Then

After promising yourself you’d read more this year, you decided to read a few chapters every night before bed. You were sitting in the comfortable reading chair your grandma let you have when she got sick. She used to sit on this thing and read to you all the time, now it was your turn to sit and read to her. The only noise was coming from the TV where you put on a YouTube video of rain sounds. It wasn’t raining but with that video, it felt like it. You picked up your glass of wine and took a small sip just as you finished chapter five.

Someone knocked on your front door loudly, causing you to spill your wine in shock. Only a few drops but if you let the stain sit, you were never going to get it out. Who could be knocking at your door this late at night? You set the wine and book down before you walked to the front door. You peered through the peephole but it was completely black which meant that whoever was on the other side was covering it.

“Who is it?”

“Bucky.”

You practically ripped the door off the hinges once you heard his voice. He was leaning against the door frame, blood all over his clothes. He was hurt and if the blood didn’t tell you that, his pained expression did. Bucky came crashing inside but you caught him before he could fall to the ground. He was a very heavy man but you did your best to hold him up. You didn’t care if blood got on your clothes.

“Bucky, are you okay? Shit, I should take you to a hospital.”

“No hospital,” he shook his head.

“Bucky…”

“I said no,” he said again, this time a lot firmer.

“Fine. Come on.” You dragged him to your bedroom and let him lie down while you prepared to take care of him. “Don’t move.”

You ran into your adjoining bathroom and grabbed whatever you could find that might help him before rejoining his side on the bed. When you did, he had his shirt off. Even with all the bruises and cuts, he still looked like an angel to you. An angel marred by humanity. An angel with black wings. You sat next to him on the bed and used gauze to start cleaning the blood off his skin.

“What happened to you?” He refused to answer you. It was always like this. This wasn’t the first time he’s gotten hurt like this. “Bucky, please tell me what happened to you.” You pressed the gauze against one of his wounds and he hissed in pain, causing you to wince as if you were the one who was hurt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m sorry for showing up like this.”

The more you took care of him, the more tears welled in your eyes.

“You’re always getting hurt,” you sniffled. “Where do you go? What do you do?”

“Let’s just say some men I talked to didn’t like what I had to say. It got physical.”

“Where are they?”

“Right where I left them,” he chuckled.

Once his wounds have stopped bleeding, you carefully cleaned them with a damp rag and some antiseptic.

“Are you going to tell me what you do for work?”

“No,” he said quietly.

“Do you not trust me?”

“If you can believe it, you’re one of the few I trust right now.”

“Do you not love me?”

He reached up and caressed your cheek. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes slightly.

“It’s because I love you that I can’t involve you in this.”

You bandaged his wounds as best as you could, and while you were throwing everything away, Bucky got comfortable in your bed. You joined his side and slipped underneath the covers. You carefully laid your head on his chest, the part that didn’t hurt.

“You know I worry about you, right?”

“I wish you wouldn’t. You don’t need to worry about someone like me.”

You smiled and kissed the tip of his nose delicately.

“I worry about the people I love.”

Bucky gripped your jaw gently and kissed you. Bucky was definitely keeping secrets from you but you decided to put that on the back burner for tonight. That night, all you needed was Bucky.

Now

You’re enjoying a quiet morning eating breakfast in the kitchen when your phone goes off. It’s a message from an unknown number. You look at the chef to see her engrossed in her duties, and you pick up your phone to see who could this message be from.

UNKNOWN: Hey, it’s Gio. I’m hoping I made a good enough impression for you not to forget me already. YOU: Hey, Gio! No, I didn't forget you. GIO: Good. Look, I wanted to check in on you after everything that happened at school with the shooting. You’ve been gone for a while YOU: Yeah, I needed a week to calm down after all that. I’m okay, though. GIO: Glad to hear it. Are you going to be in school today?

You bite your lip nervously. Bucky wouldn’t like it if you stepped one foot outside this mansion without him. Fuck that! He’s not the boss of you! He can’t keep you prisoner here. Go to school if you want to go to school.

YOU: Yes, I am. GIO: Cool! I look forward to seeing you in class :)

You finish breakfast before heading upstairs and getting dressed. There is a reason you’re in college. There’s a reason why you’re taking fashion design classes. You’re not going to let someone like Bucky take that away from you. After getting dressed in something warm, you head downstairs. You’re looking at your phone so you don’t see Bucky before you run right into him. He grips your shoulders to prevent you from falling, and you look up at him in shock.

“Sorry.”

“Where are you going?”

“School.”

“You can do school here.”

“Not for the classes I need to be in person for, and since you wrecked my car, I need to leave now to catch the bus.”

Bucky’s jaw ticks in anger or annoyance, you’re not sure. You can practically see the cogs turning in his head. He rolls his eyes at losing his inner battle.

“Fine, I’ll take you to school.”

“With no bodyguards. I don’t need Sam and Steve lingering in the classes like weirdos.”

“Only if you promise not to run.”

“I thought you liked chasing me.” Bucky smirks slightly but decides against saying anything else. You finally have time to see what he’s wearing and your mouth waters when you see his very loose gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. No! Bad girl! Don’t think about that! But he’s so delicious and you really do miss the way his body feels against yours. Don’t make me smack you. Fine. “I’ll wait by the car while you get dressed. There’s no way you’re leaving the house wearing that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smirks.

God damn it. He leaves while you wait by one of his cars. You’re not sure which one he is going to take since he has about a million of them inside his garage. He joins your side wearing a three-piece suit. He must be going to the office today. You’re not sure if you prefer him wearing sweatpants or in a suit. Sweatpants. Definitely sweatpants. No shirt. Obviously.

He picks the Range Rover and you climb into the passenger seat. He never lets you drive now or when you two were dating. He often claims that you always have been and will always be his Passenger Princess. Not that you minded much because it gave you the opportunity to stare at him. Ahem. Admire. Apparently, there’s a difference.

“Lose something over here, pisică?” he smirks. You snap your eyes forward and pretend like you aren’t admiring how good he looks. You look in the mirror and see another black SUV trailing behind that no doubt has Steve and Sam in. “What are you going to school for?”

This is a safe topic to discuss and you relax in your seat.

“Fashion design. I really want to start my own line of clothes.”

“I remember you were saying something about that,” he smiles.

“Well, I only just started college. It’s a few classes while I get my general out of the way, but I like it.”

Bucky pulls up to the side of the campus where your first class is. You’re not sure what to say. You look at your phone to see you have forty-five minutes before your class starts.

“Thanks for the ride.”

You’re about to get out when he stops you.

“What time does your last class end?”

“Three.”

“I’ll pick you up then. Right here.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You leave the car but the feeling of his eyes on you doesn’t go away. You’re about half a football field away from him when you turn and look at him. He’s still staring at you so you scurry off with a blush. He chuckles and pulls away from the school, deciding to trust you that you’ll be there when he picks you up. Your first two classes go by without a hitch and your third class is your favorite--Fashion Design 102. The classroom is set up like a lab with desks that can only fit two people. The walls are covered with fabrics, the ground splattered with paint, and a bunch of mannequins are scattered about. Gio sits at one of the long tables and smiles when he sees you.

“Rayne!”

Oh, yeah. You told him your name is Rayne. Since Bucky found you, there’s no reason to keep that secrecy. You take a seat next to him and blush slightly from embarrassment.

“My name isn’t Rayne. It’s Y/N. I was going through stuff when I told you my name, but I’m okay now. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Gio chuckles in amusement. “It’s no problem. I know a bit about running from your past. I get it. I like Y/N better, anyway.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah. I needed time to process what happened.”

“Again, I get it,” he nods.

There’s no way you’re going to tell him that what happened was because of you. All you want to do is focus on your design class. Gio is interested in designing men’s clothing which you know he will be good at. All his sketches are amazing. The professor has people teaming up to create an article of clothing so naturally, Gio asked you to be his. Before you can start designing, you have to have sketches.

Gio wanted to make a suit while you wanted to make a dress. You two compromised and you’re making a dress. He’s picking the color and fabric while you two create the design.

“So, what’s your deal?”

“With what?” you chuckle and continue sketching.

“You’re gorgeous, there’s not secret about that. You’re funny and very smart. Last I remember, you don’t have a boyfriend, right?”

Bucky immediately comes to mind. If you were to tell Gio no, he’d kill him for sure. Technically, you never broke up with him. You just ran away. Gio sees the look on your face and chuckles in amusement.

“It’s complicated, I guess. Like I said to you before, it wouldn’t be fair to you if I couldn’t give you my all, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. Friends?”

“Yeah, friends,” you smile.

The class ends once you finish the design on sketches. You only have three classes but the fashion one takes two hours. Bucky pulls up to the meeting spot exactly at three and looks for you. He sees you walking with a man taller than you. He looks younger than Bucky and leaner than him. He still has muscle but not nearly as enough as Bucky have. You’re leaning into his side with a smile on your face, laughing at something he said. Bucky tries to let it slide that he’s standing so close to you but when Gio pulls you into a hug, his blood boils. He honks his horn and you jump away from him in shock.

“Sorry, that’s me. I gotta go,” you chuckle nervously. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You walk over to Bucky’s car and get in the passenger’s seat with a frown on your face. Bucky has a grumpy smile on his face and you roll your eyes as you put your seatbelt on.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m allowed to have friends.”

“Friends don’t touch your ass when they hug you.”

“He wasn’t.”

“Do you remember what happened to that man in my meeting?”

He doesn’t have to say the words for you to know what he means. You whip your head toward him and glare as hard as you can.

“Don’t you fucking dare. If you do, I will leave again, you’ll never find me, and we’re done.”

Bucky is silent for twenty minutes before smirking.

“Are you saying we’re not done now?”

You can’t stay mad at him. You want to be pissed at him but then he says shit like that and makes you fall for him even more. The rest of the car ride is spent in silence except for the light stream of music coming from the speakers. Bucky pulls up to his mansion and escorts you inside. The first thing you see is a trail of rose petals leading from the door to the kitchen. You gasp when you see the table set for a romantic dinner for two. Candles, flowers, hot food, and alcohol.

“What is this?”

“I figure I owed you dinner after everything.”

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know. I wanted to.” Your stomach flips upside down and your heart swells in happiness. “Plus, I slaved over the stove all day for you.”

As happy as you are, you can’t help but feel sad. Bucky have proven he can be this sweet and good man, so why the hell is he in the most dangerous business? He’s messing with your head and you’re not sure what to think. Don’t think. Just be in the moment. All your problems will still be there tomorrow morning. Right. Be in the moment.

That’s what you do, and you and Bucky have a nice dinner where your problems slide into tomorrow and nothing else matters but you two. After dinner, Bucky walks to you to your room as if he’s walking you home after a date. You know what happens after a date. Bucky did the same thing after every one of yours, so you’re not sure what’s going to happen here. You stop outside your room and look into Bucky’s blue eyes.

“Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”

Bucky reaches out and cups your jaw. You part your lips and he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. He cups the other side of your jaw and pulls you toward him. He kisses you desperately and grips your hair to keep you in place. It’s been so long since you’ve felt his lips on yours and it’s making your knees weak. He slides his tongue into your mouth to meet yours and licks every inch he can. By the time he is pulling away, your brain is numb.

“Goodnight.”

“Night,” you mumble.

It doesn’t matter how hard you try to stay away from him. You can’t.

x

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

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!