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c4qwp · 8 months

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felix catton x fem!reader

| you understand.

📎 tags : angst, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix be i'm such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, felix being a bit annoying but also a cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned, angst asfff

📎 author's note : don't hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn't my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him

you would have seen it coming.

"i think we should break up."

so faint and uncertain, barely more than a whisper.

he looked uncomfortably hunched over, his forearms resting on the table, his breakfast untouched, like he was trying to make himself smaller than you, which was ironic considering you envied his nerves of steel, and of course he was smaller than you shorter It was a very embarrassing moment for a handsome man, but not this kind of moment. Never this weakness.

although the winter sun shines through the windows, the kitchen is still dark and the unpleasant feeling of unusual transparency is almost suffocating. felix isn't the type to get flustered in public, which makes you even more nervous, just when you think you've had all the training you need to imagine scenarios and possible breakup possibilities in every direction.

he didn't dare look at you, shaking his head nervously, choking silently. "say something."

howfunny that he's the best thing you know and can lift you up with one arm effortlessly — his biceps are literally the size of your head, but he says if anyone touches him, he'll cry right now.

It's also a hard pill to swallow, and it's not true that you did this to him, weakening him. you didn't know you had that much power over him yet; and he said he wanted to break, but if he actually said he did, he'd throw up. you shifted in your seat, the wood of the chair suddenly digging into your skin as your body became hyperaware of everything around you, turning your attention away from felix and crossing your hands in your lap.

the answer is on the tip of your tongue, where it has been hidden for months. of course you let him go, and what makes it easier is accepting his warning that half the things about him will be absent and secret, or knowing from the start that your time with him will be limited.

you just don't hesitate; completely overcome the first four stages of grief and begin to accept with ease.

felix catton was essentially ephemeral, either a dreamer or a visible absentee in the present moment of your life. you think of him as an outside cat who was never yours to begin with, appearing randomly and unwittingly when he wanted, a flighty, mysterious companion who was happy and eager to be around.

you don't know if he loves you so much. everyone loved felix. everyone wanted to be around him. the love was there, enough to last a long time, but you thought it was because you were secure and stable.

you were glad you gave him that, if only because you honestly weren't sure what he saw in you.

what was going on was easy enough to experience and because of that you didn't allow yourself to get too attached to him because you knew he didn't love you as much as you loved him. maybe you're kidding yourself, maybe you're sleepy and not as cool as you thought, but you're convinced that's the way it should be, the way it should be.

what's the point of realizing your name isn't at the top of his list?

are you even were you good enough for him? a feeling of insecurity has been itching you for a long time. you may have been beautiful and intelligent, but were you the first in his eyes?

you can't ever be mad at him. you wanted to be with him knowing the way he is, after all. felix is a mess despite trying not to show it, his messy straw-brown hair doesnt shine like it usually does. he hasn't gotten enough sleep in more than a couple days because of his family's issues. time whenever he has to be away for an unprecedented amount of time, or gets buried too long in his pub. wearing a white shirt, he looked very casual and didn't seem to beg to be singled out. feel sorry for him.

"alright."

he snapped his head up, his eyes immediately meeting yours, and they were no longer blank. he looked unsure if he had heard correctly and had a look of disbelief on his face. "wait what?"

your fingers traced the rim of your teacup, mimicking felix's eager movements. "you can start packing today, but if you want to stop today, i don't mind..."

"no, wait-"

"i said yes, felix."

he frowned at the name, his eyes looking away from you for a moment, and he had to blink, and you thought that not having your usual nickname had hurt him. He had to swallow before he could speak.

"and that's it?"

you don't know if this is an attempt to end your relationship or if you want to let him go easily. you do not get it. what can you say.

"what do you want me to say?"

he sighed, looked away, wiped his forehead with his hand and covered his eyes. yes, not that your hopes are in vain. you have to say no.

he's as handsome as ever, but of course he'll want to know how comfortable you are, and he won't appreciate it when he changes his design. "i heard and will agree so we co—"

"aren't you mad at me?"

this is really what he thought first?

"i don't want to get upset."

"why...?"

"well, ..." because you love him, but talking about him will make it harder.

"i'm not sure. but we are both adult and need to talk like one. i think you and i have been very good together all along. I'm not mad at you for anything. understand."

he had such a subtle, sarcastic look on his face that if you were a complete stranger you would have thought it was sarcasm, but you knew better. He insulted himself. you can read it. but you should think about it. you should be mad at him. why the fuck is he upset. things about felix seem too good to be true, his only flaw is that he is a literal playboy. but of course stopped all his relationships with other girls, right?

"don't you want to know the reason? i mean, my god, why are you taking it so passively?"

"what do you mean?"

it's hard for you too.

"how can you not be so affected?"

"It's not like that. If you want to break up, i can't make you stay, or do anything you don't want to do. that's not fair to any of us. you will be with someone you don't want, and i would know im with someone who doesn't want me."

he shook his head, brown hair framing his face, which floated gently in the air. when he strongly disagrees

with something you say, but decides to say no at the last minute, he'll furrow his brows in anger and you'll feel a little disappointed because he's not denying that he doesn't want you. "you're always doing that, you're always doing that..getting mad. you must be mad at me."

"felix. I'm just tired of all this. you want to beak up and i said yes."

he just said, "I'm sorry,"

he hated it, that was all he had to offer you, and it showed on his face. sit in the chair next to him, you both need some good communication privacy right now. "but i have plenty of time to cry, okay?

"it's not like i'm accepting it or being negative or anything... and"

"grieving?"

his eyes search yours for a moment, the realization making him gasp and his eyebrows raise, making him look younger and more innocent.

looking forward to it.

"yeah, i mean.." pressing your lips together.

"look at us. in the long run, this doesn't work. It's not real. i don't know how we got here."

his pupils swallowed all the blue in his eyes, and he had never looked at you with such hostility until the hair on your arms stood up. "did you just think about breaking up?"

"why are you mad at me now? what have I done? you're the one who broke up with me."

"you weren't happy at all. haven't you always been sure?"

"i was and i still am. it's just...you've changed, felix. you're not looking at me like before. i don't know if it's because of me that you've changed but i was here for you every single time. but no mister doesn't want to talk so go to the pub and come back all drunk and doesn't give a shit about me. so yeah i was confused about a time and wasn't sure."

his eyes were finally on you. he called your name, repeated it. "i'm so sorry, love. i'm so-"

"no felix. i'm tired. so please leave me alone for a time and let's talk an other time."

there was a blank of 2 minutes. as you wanted to say another word,

"i understand."

#jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn #felix catton #felix catton x fem! reader #angst

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 7 months

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Yandere coworker (part 9)

Tw: afab reader, non con touching, non con kissing, violence, cyprus mad n yelling

Masterlists, part 1, part 10

It's been a little over a month now. You barely get to sleep at your own apartment anymore ever since you got that fever.

Because Cyprus kept stealing your stuff and blackmailing you with it, you've never missed a night of sleeping at his place. It's like you're living there now, your pyjamas are Cyprus's large clothes and you've been wearing the same few outfits to work over and over, thanks to the free washing services downstairs.

Once or twice, he lets you visit your home just to pack up your skincare, soaps and whatever you need. He already bought you a new toothbrush earlier on in this relationship. Cyprus wouldn't allow you to take your gaming consoles though, he said he didn't want it to "clog up" his apartment.

It's... Nice. You didn't have to worry about what to eat. The bills are paid for. Your rent was also paid for despite barely living there anymore, you had no idea how Cyprus managed to transfer the accounts to his without you knowing. It didn't seem to put too much pressure on him, he was still as cool as a cucumber. You wonder how much he earns in a month.

You didn't have to deal with that creep back at your apartment, but you knew that he was lurking around, watching you and Cyprus during the rare visits. However, as long as that hunk of a man is next to you, he wouldn't dare to approach. That's a plus, at least.

You just had to get used to Cyprus's molester tendencies. It doesn't matter how hostile you would be with him, he would always try to seize every possible opportunity to touch you.

He would pull you into the staircase during lunch, just to make out with you until your legs grow weak and your head goes blank. Cyprus said it helps with his insatiable urge to smoke, you think it's at least helping him, so you're somewhat okay with this treatment. Totally not because you're secretly enjoying the attention and experiences he's giving you.

You managed to convince yourself that being with Cyprus isn't all that bad. He cooks, he cleans, he defends you from Jane, he prepares a cup of your favourite drink every morning and delivers it to your desk, he clocks you out and helps you greatly with your phone addiction.

He sets a limit where you can only use your phone for a grand total of two hours per day. Just to text your friends and family, but he made you delete all social media off your digital slab. Which caused a massive meltdown on your part, where you would cry and flail, and spit and hiss. But Cyprus was unmoving, he's determined to rid you of his modern curse.

Most of your time is filled with doing something else, visiting the beach, and the park, going on motorbike rides with Cyprus, having his tongue shoved down your throat, watching his violent boxing matches, eating at restaurants, talking, and visiting places that you always see on social media, but never been to (Ie., the zoo, the aquarium, carnivals and some other trending venues). You would come back dead exhausted from the day's activities, and you're astonished at how he never seems to run out of energy or date ideas.

You could cry, sob, beg, and struggle, yet he wouldn't allow you to rot in his bed or yours. There must be a destination to go to every day, after work. He would sling your entire body over his shoulder if he had to, it wasn't a fun experience being hung upside down while your legs helplessly flail around.

His lifestyle was completely different than yours, it's almost as if he's living in the 80s- sometimes even completely forgetting to bring his phone with him. That is unfathomable to you, forgetting your phone is just like forgetting your vision, how anyone could live without it, you couldn't understand.

It would be a lie to say that you never had any fun. You would start off teary-eyed and throwing a tantrum because all you wanted to do was take a nap or play your videogames after a long day of work, but in the end, you would be laughing gleefully with cotton candy in one hand, and a stuffed animal in another. You would collapse immediately upon coming back to his place, allowing you to have a complete, 8 hours of sleep a day without fail.

As it turns out, Cyprus only uses his gadgets for work or for research on where to go, or date ideas. Not even for navigation, he used old-fashioned paper maps for that. His screen time is unbelievably low, you wonder if he's actually a modern man or someone from the pre-smartphone era.

Cyprus began to have a "candy drawer" at work, where he would offer sweet treats to nobody but you.

You think he's using that as a substitute for smoking during hours when he couldn't assault your mouth with his, putting actual work into quitting his habit. It's almost admirable, you just wish that he didn't rope you into it as well. You missed your phone badly.

From there, you found out that his favorite candies are mostly cinnamon-flavoured or chewy liquorice sticks. Oddly enough, you couldn't taste whatever he ate when you and he mashed kissers. There is a faint hint of cinnamon, but the licorice isn't there. There was a moderately intense scent of mint, though.

Now everyone in the office knows that you and Cyprus are a pair. Even those from other departments and floors knew not to steal you away from him. Because he once caught someone from marketing flirting with you, he was then let go a few days later. You and your coworkers knew he had something to do with it since he kept entering his supervisor's office with a stack of papers.

You took a peek at them once, their account balances, supposedly serving as evidence that his rival was embezzling company funds with the help of someone in Finance.

There was a new hire that tried to make moves on you. Cyprus made it very clear that you were his by interrupting the conversation with a passionate kiss on your lips. He then barked at the newbie to leave you alone. It's now a must to tell all newcomers about your relationship with Cyprus, and why he isn't to be messed with.

It's very different from the usual, stoic, and professional Cyprus the office once knew. On all matters relating to work or otherwise, he still maintains that frosty, quiet, and monotonous exterior. But when it comes to you? The message is clear: Do not touch his woman. Even looking at you wrongly will cause him to try and sabotage their career.

Your coworkers used that new feature to their advantage. If they wanted to find him for something (Ie., regarding the annual financial report, discuss an error from his side, politics, etc.), all they needed to do was find you and exchange a couple of words. Cyprus will then appear to manifest out of thin air to possessively protect his territory.

They knew not to abuse it too much, though. A man tried to summon him through you one time too many, he came back from lunch late, with an eye swollen shut, a bloody nose, some teeth knocked out of his mouth and bruises all over his body. When quizzed about what happened, he refused to say anything to anyone and refused to press charges on his anonymous assailant. He avoided your gaze and ran away whenever you tried talking to him. Shortly after, he transferred departments and you never saw him around again.

You still didn't know what he said to Jane to make her deathly afraid of him. To this date, she hasn't tried anything with you; allowing you to go home at 5 pm sharp and holding her tongue whenever you made a mistake.

You have come to know a lot about him since he likes talking; sharing about himself and knowing more about you. Unfortunately, Cyprus remarked how embarrassing it is that you have nothing to say about yourself except to describe what you see online. And you didn't realize what you did until he pointed it out, which kept you up at night reflecting on your life so far.

He has friends that he would regularly talk about, they were who you would think Cyprus would associate with: Loud, brash, and sharing a mutual hatred for work and their superiors.

You couldn't remember the names of his closest friends, maybe it's because you believed that this relationship between him and you wouldn't last long. However, you do know he has three best friends, all male.

Today, he's bringing you to meet them in the same pub where you first ate dinner with him. Of course, you didn't want to go. He had to drag you into his car, hissing and spitting as usual. You felt insulted that he would be nonchalant, carrying you without being visibly affected by your hits. As if you're his inanimate suitcase.

When the car starts moving, you would turn docile. Not wanting him to crash or injure yourself by jumping out. He would always have a victorious grin on his face, knowing that he won once again.

You're nervous because you already don't like Cyprus. You couldn't imagine dealing with three more, it might just cause a blood vessel in your forehead to pop. Your boyfriend tried reassuring you by rubbing your thigh while he drove. No matter how you press against the door to try and get away from his grabby hands, he will always reach you.

Reaching the pub, he parked in a spot but told you to wait in the car for a while. It didn't take long until the deafening noises of motorbikes made you shut your ears with your hands. You peered out the window to see three, black and sleek motorcycles pull up around Cyprus's cars. Their drivers all wore leather jackets with customized helmets, and a feminine figure was behind each one, which you assume was his buddies' girlfriends.

They excitedly hopped off their vehicles and started knocking on Cyprus's windows. You cower deeper into your seat in fear as Cyprus rolls them down.

"What the hell, Cy? Just got out of work or something?" One of his friends stuck his arm into the window and pressed on the honk, making you wince at the sudden loudness.

"Yeah, what's with the car? We always come here with our bikes!" Another one slapped the top of Cyprus's car.

"Don't tell us you agreed to work overtime!" The last one jabbed Cyprus in the head, causing your boyfriend to jab his friend's head back.

"Oh my god! Is that her? She's so cute!" The women gushed at you as they took off their helmets. "Hi! What's your name?" You squirmed uncomfortably when they all jutted their hands inside the car to squeeze your cheeks, stroke your hair, and tickle your chin. You felt so violated, already at the brink of tears as their girlfriends continued taking turns petting you.

"Get the fuck away from my car, all of you!" Roared Cyprus, he was so loud that your ear temporarily rang. You couldn't imagine what it was like for his friends that are right next to him.

They backed off, but it didn't seem like they were surprised or upset. Instead, they were giggling and smiling at each other. Is it normal for Cyprus to lose his temper like this?

He stormed out of his car and started yelling at his friends and their partners. "What the fuck is wrong with all of you? I told you all to behave, look at what you did to my girl!" Cyprus marched up to your door, glowering at the women in the process.

He opened the door and cupped your cheeks, wiping away the tears that you didn't know were falling from your eyes.

"Aw... We're sorry." The women had a guilty and sympathetic look on their faces. The men awkwardly looked away and scratched the back of their heads.

"Give me a moment to talk to them, doll." He murmured, tenderly kissing you on the forehead before turning around to scowl at his friends.

All six of them already knew where Cyprus wanted them to go, it was like watching a dog herding sheep into a secluded place.

You watched Cyprus yell at them harshly while their gazes were downcast, it seemed like the girlfriends got more scolding than the men. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when you spotted that it almost seemed like they were trying to stifle a laugh while being torn a new one by Cyprus. Are they not afraid of him? Do they not respect him, or is this just their dynamic?

He stomped back to you once he was done flaming their asses, while the rest went into the pub.

Cyprus sighed as he shook his head in disapproval, he unbuckled your belt and held onto your hand.

"Come on, let's go in."

You're seated next to your boyfriend at a large table, and one of the girlfriends excitedly takes the chair beside you. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her as he hooked his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him.

Now that you had a closer look, you noticed that the women wore beautiful and stylish clothes, had long, healthy hair, had long, acrylic nails on, and their thick makeup looked like it was applied by a professional.

The first ten minutes were spent catching up between the men and their partners, joking around. You were too intimidated to participate, opting to anxiously grip your pint of beer and pretending to drink, so you wouldn't need to speak. All that anger and rage from Cyprus evaporated, he is much more playful and animated now, yet equally as loud as his friends.

You had to jam your fingers into your ear canal to bear with the explosive environment.

"Oh, what about this cutie right here? We didn't even catch your name, and we made you cry. Poor thing." Dread washed over you as the girl next to you suddenly brought all seven pairs of eyes on you.

You took a deep breath as everyone fell silent, waiting for your response. Eventually, you stammered your name.

There was a beat of silence, followed by one of the men cheering excitedly, and then all of them joined in, boisterously welcoming you into the circle.

You took a deep breath and exhaled, this is going to be a long night...

Each of them fought to ask you questions about yourself, cutting each other off and speaking at the same time. You couldn't tell who was saying what, and what was being said. It is just one big cacophony of voices.

Only when you brought your palms to your ears, Cyprus shouted one more time to shut everyone up.

"I told you all to fucking behave! We're leaving if you all can't stop acting like animals!" He berated.

You looked around, there were patrons throwing glances your way, but most of them didn't care. It didn't make the situation any less awkward for you.

"Aww... We're sorry." The woman next to you had her hand hovering over your head, about to patronizingly stroke your hair as if you were a leashed pet, but Cyprus slapped it away and glared at her.

She merely rolled her eyes at Cyprus and huffed, dramatically flopping onto her man's chest. Her boyfriend gave numerous kisses on the 'injured' hand as she mock sobbed.

Cyprus spoke for you, basic information about how you and he met. A simple description of your personality, but he did emphasize 'shy' more than twice. You wonder what their definition of 'Shy' meant.

The conversation revolved around you now, but you didn't say a word. Too afraid that you might excite them too much again. It was humiliating to be hiding under Cyprus's jacket while clinging onto him, but they were genuinely scary.

The woman next to you tried to touch you discretely, having her thigh brush yours, her fingers grazing your knee, her stocking-clad feet gently rubbing your calf up and down. Driving you closer and closer to Cyprus until you're positively pressed up against him.

Whenever you looked back at her, she would have this gleeful smile. Well, all the girlfriends had this same look on them whenever you paid them any attention. It's as if they're overcome by cuteness aggression, since they're mildly gyrating in their seats as soon as you made eye contact.

There was a point where they chatted amongst themselves while Cyprus took a couple of sips from his beer. You tugged on his shirt to catch his attention.

"Yes, princess?" He cooed, craning his neck down so he could hear you.

You told him that you want to go home. You don't like his friends, especially their overly friendly partners.

He frowned. He opened his mouth to say something, but one of his friends decided to pipe up.

"Hey! Share with the class, what the hell are you two talking about?"

"She speaks!? We have got to hear it!"

"Come on, Cy! Let us in!"

He slammed his fist on the table, silencing everyone once again and causing a bit of their beers to spill.

"That's it." He growled, rising up from his seat and holding you tight. "We're leaving."

All six of them began whining loudly, pawing at Cyprus and yourself, begging you both to stay.

"You all can fuck off to hell." He spat, whipping out enough cash to cover the beers for you and him.

"Come on, doll. We're going home."

He stared at you, waiting for you to lead the way.

However, you thought about it. Maybe they meant well; just a little too eager to know you. Maybe you could get more information about him through his friends, perhaps you could act like the opposite of his type.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc cyprus #male yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #female reader #tw afab reader #male yandere #male yandere oc

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 months

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You Won't Get Time, Part 2

Summary: your brain never shuts off.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader, Johnny Storm X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, mild form of self harm (rubber band snapping), slapping, biting, unprotected sex, PIV sex, cream pie, nightmares, depictions of drowning, underage drinking, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7K

Series Masterlist

Biting your lip, you pace around your bedroom. It seems of late that’s all you do, and you’re always doing it alone, while somewhere the people you hold closest to your heart are elsewhere. How is it that when you need someone no one is around? Or is it because you’re ashamed of what happened? You never actually ask for Steve, you just know eventually he’ll come asking for you.

But what actually happened tonight? Everything was fine. Perfect even. People got to see you with Steve. In a way it is like marking your territory, and he was marking his. And it was amazing. Until he told you that you couldn’t stay. You didn’t understand why he never allowed you to linger. It’s like there was a bit of shame.

But then Bucky. You take a quick look in the mirror, and almost hate the person you see. Hate the way your eyes look a bit more sunken in and worn. You pull off every bit of clothing you have, and toss it into the hamper before walking into the Jack and Jill bathroom. You had to get Bucky off you. If you were a braver person, you would have jumped into the river. But who would have saved you then? Or is that what you want? To wash everything away and give up on whatever was going on? You’re just tired.

Turning on the water as hot as you can stand, you step in. Scrubbing and scouring at every remnant Bucky left behind. You wish you could just be open and honest with Steve, you just want him. But you get a feeling that Steve wants you to — take care of Bucky. It wasn’t all the time, and that’s why you allow it, but Bucky isn’t Steve. And Bucky went further than Steve would have allowed. You couldn’t cause another fight between them because of you.

And then afterwards. You walked to the river, trying to find some clarity, or contemplate washing away the evening, or something. You aren’t even sure what you wanted to do. Just run away and forget all the noise that is constantly surrounding you, and within your own mind. There’s only two times that it ever stopped. Well, there are two people that make the buzzing noise in your brain stop. And here you thought it was only Steve.

But why did Johnny have to invade not only your moment, but your mind. He is asking questions that you just couldn’t answer because — because you just couldn’t, and you didn’t want to. He wanted you to think about things, not realizing that was exactly the opposite of what you try to do with Steve. Because with Steve things just cease to stop moving. And it’s beautiful that you don’t have to think you can just be. Didn’t other people get that luxury?

Steve is your sanctuary. More than a friend or brother, he is your soulmate. Your other half. He is your everything. And how dare Johnny try to make you question the way things are with Steve. Nobody ever understood, and you just get tired of explaining it. You shouldn’t have to. Yours and Steve’s relationship was for you and him. People couldn’t understand the extreme complexities that make up your single minds.

Nobody could understand how precious things are with Steve. Mostly because he didn’t show the real him to people. But in the privacy of just you and him, you are blessed with seeing the man outside of the tormented soul he presents to the world. That’s love. Steve trusts you to be his vulnerable self. The one he keeps locked away from everyone because from experience, you and Steve were always the one left behind.

Bucky and Becca couldn’t understand because they still had their parents, and each other. Had yours and Steve’s parents not died, you might not have ever had this bond with him, and you’re grateful they’re dead. It beats the alternative of mourning their death forever. Constantly longing for people who are never coming back. You didn’t need them. The universe brought you what you needed. Steve.

You pop your neck as you walk back to your bedroom. Feeling cleansed from Bucky and him. Johnny had a death wish if he thought that being in your presence was a smart idea. And if Steve knew that he was questioning your relationship, it would not end well for Johnny. And yet there’s a part of you that not only wants to keep that hidden from Steve but also, maybe, you wouldn’t mind seeing him again. You shudder at the thought.

You reach over to your bedside table, and put a rubber band around your wrist, and give it a few pops. Taking a deep, slow inhale each time you let the rubber slap your skin. Exhaling before you pull it back. You take a quick check at your window before allowing your eyes to flutter close. Another night alone.

The Barnes’ thought you guys were grown enough now to do whatever it is they wanted on the weekend. It’s nice most of the time. Except now you just feel cold. Dreadfully cold. Hugging your knees to your chest, you clench your eyes close. It’s not the first time this has happened, and eventually sleep comes. Along with visions of the past. Ones you try to bury.

You pop the rubber band a few times. Feeling like your skin is crawling. Cold. Dark. Alone. Leaving you to wait for someone to save you. Except in your nightmares they never do.

——

Steve pushes your bedroom window open. He came in too late to use the front door, and the Barnes’ are already awake with the TV on in the living room. So he has to sneak to find you. He had too much weed last night. You hate seeing him high, so he waited. With some company before he came to you. He’s crawled through your window so many times that he could do it any form of inebriation.

Taking his shoes off, along with all his clothes, he lifts the covers and slides in behind you. Snaking an arm over you. His hand slides up your arm until he feels your wrist. Not only is one of those ugly bands on you, but your skin is warm and swollen, “Goddamit, Rio,” his voice is gruff behind your neck, but you don’t respond.

Your head twitches violently, and he hates himself. Heat doesn’t course through your blood, it’s like you're as cold as the day he pulled you from the river. “Rio?” His voice is met with a garbled cry. “Rio?” Still it’s nonsensical words that sound heavy. He hates having to shake you awake from these dreams, but they increase in severity if he doesn’t.

“Rio, baby, come back to me,” he leans over your body, hearing a strangled breath. It’s like you can’t escape the hellish nightmare, and you are causing yourself to drown. Your breathing is shallow, sounding like you're choking on your own saliva. “Rio? Rio! Please, I can’t lose you. Rio!”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head before he panics, shaking your body, until you’re gasping for air. Coughing at the invisible water in your lungs before looking up at him with so much confusion, until he pulls your body into his lap. Cradling you like a small baby, “I’m not going to lose you. I can’t. Rio, you’re my salvation. Please, don’t do this to me. I told you if you’re in that space to call me.”

“You’re late,” two words that cut him so deeply. Certain things don’t have to be spoken to understand what you mean. He’s late, meaning he was out high. “Does she have a name?”

“Don’t go there,” you are the one that was rudely woken up. You were sleeping. Maybe not peacefully, but you were sleeping. And he crawled through your window, and held you. And now he has the gall to tell you not to go there. You could have used him earlier in the night. Your nightmares don’t come if he’s with you.

“Have you at least washed her off you.”

“Did you wash Bucky off you?” Leaning to the side, you bite his arm. It wasn’t meant to hurt. It’s just aggression at his words.

“You allowed that to happen.”

“And you seemed like you really hated it, too,” he gets another bite, and he growls in response. “I hate it when you do that.”

“And I hate it when you act like I’m not enough for you. And don’t give me a dumb excuse that you have to let people know I don’t mean that much to you. That’s sick, and I’m done with your games,” still being cradled in his lap, he pinches your mouth. Thumb and forefinger on both sides, causing your mouth to hang open.

Like fire, even with warmth, there’s a danger to it. The flames have their way of causing pain. Licking and striking each other. You and Steve are passionate and painful. Leaning forward he licks a stripe up your neck, ending with his tongue tickling the inside of your mouth. “Suck it.”

“No,” you respond around the muscle. You aren’t sure where his tongue has been tonight. You’d be damned if you taste another woman. “Get off.”

Keeping his hand on your mouth he leans back, staring at you intently and confused. You never met him with resistance. It is a weird, and yet liberating thing. You hate to think that the brief conversation with Johnny had any effect on you, but you didn’t respond to Steve with eager enthusiasm, but with defiance.

“What?”

“I don’t want something that’s been inside another cunt,” he looks hurt. Not angry, and you want to plead for forgiveness, but also see where this goes.

“I haven’t touched another woman tonight.”

“Oh? And last weekend?”

“That was different,” you blow a puff of air up at him, wishing he would remove his hand. “You went on vacation with your little friend, and I was lonely.”

“I get lonely, too,” how dare he blame you. You’re tired and wish to sleep, and here he is blaming you for something he did. You deserve vacations, but deep down you know Steve doesn’t like the idea of you wanting to leave here.

“Maybe I should find me another cock,” he slaps the side of your leg with his free hand, but you just smile. “Does that bother you? Thinking about another man hovering over me. Leaving bruises on my skin from how tightly he holds onto me. Have someone that isn’t you fucking into me, and not only does it feel good, but I love it? Is that why you allow Bucky to fuck me? Because I don’t love him like I love you? And I don’t want him fucking me?”

“You’ve never said that,” you shouldn’t have to. How many times have you said all you want was Steve. It’s subtle, but it’s said.

“You’ve never asked. You just know I’ll do what you ask. And I get lonely, too,” you repeat the sentiment again, hoping that Steve catches it and understands.

“You take another cock, and I’ll never forgive you,” you stare up at him with cold dark eyes. Hating him for even thinking that. “You belong to me.”

“Then quit allowing our brother to fuck me!”

“Then tell him, no. If you hate it so much, just tell him, no. You never have, so I assumed that you must like it enough,” you roll your eyes, and get another slap to your leg. “Quit being a little bitch. What is wrong with you this morning?”

“I get lonely, too!” He clearly hasn’t heard you. He doesn’t get that you hate being alone. It’s a visceral reaction, and when it happens you go back to all the bad thoughts.

“Yeah, and fucking doing — why is the rubber band on your wrist again, Ri? You said you would tell me if you felt like doing that again. Why do you need to hurt yourself?”

“Why? Because I came home after being used while everyone in your fucking friend group watched, but I’m not good enough to stay there with you, no. You just want everyone to know I’m your little cunt bitch that lets you fuck me whenever you need it. And after being used, I didn’t have anyone to hold me when I needed it. I came here alone, and was left to my own thoughts, and the bands bring me back to reality. When I flick my skin, I’m here in the present. When I don’t I’m in my mind in the fucking river fighting for my life, and you weren’t there to save me,” Steve’s grip on your cheeks softens before he lets his arm fall altogether.

Letting himself be defeated as he lays back on your bed. “You’re not even going to apologize, are you? Bucky fucked me in front of your friends, and I had to come home alone. I get tired of being used by you two.”

“You think I use you?” You’re not sure what he would call it.

“I think that’s all you allow yourself to do. Do you love me?”

“Yeah. You know I love you. You know you’re the only one that quiets my thoughts, too.”

“If you don’t want me to feel like I’m being used, be there for me when I need you. It works both ways, but you’re the only one taking, and I’m so tired of giving, and everyone gets to see me giving,” if it was Steve that everyone saw you with instead of Bucky, maybe you wouldn’t feel so raw. But it was like a sick game to see you pass around between the two of them.

He twists his head while looking at you, and you’re tired of talking. At a party Steve does use you. He stakes his claim in front of everyone and lets them know that you’re untouchable. You belong to him, and no one can ever have you. “You didn’t call me.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, turning your body to straddle Steve. You pull off his old shirt, and watch his eyes roam over your body as you start to grind on his naked self. “Don’t act so surprised, Steve. What’s the rule? No panties in the bed, that way if you need me, you can just have me. You got in my bed naked. But now I’m the one that needs you,” still grinding on top of him, you lean forward, kissing up his neck.

“Why so late?” It is already morning. You can see the warm sun rays start to peek through the window. “Don’t lie to me.”

“We were discussing you coming out next weekend,” you sit up, cocking an eyebrow. “There’s reasons I don’t want you there.”

“Why?”

“Initiation.”

“Such as?” He moans as his cock starts to get harder. His body comes alive with your juices. You didn’t care what the initiation was as long as you got to be accepted into his world. And be with him without shame.

“I don’t want to put you through that.”

“You don’t want to give me the chance to accept? Or is this about you?”

“If you’re a ride or die — there’s things you have to do to prove you're loyal to the group. Even the women. You’re still in school. And I’m biding my time for us to…us to…fuck just stick it in,” he is rock hard, and you’re weeping for him. Your body craves the way he feels so much. It’s like the only way you stay alive, and present, and with him that doesn't involve a painful reminder of what your current life is.

“Ri, I’m dying. You’re soaked, and I can’t think right now,” he’s stalling. Distracting you with his dick, so you forget all about what it takes to be part of his group. “Ri. Please, baby.”

Adjusting your weight, you reach between your legs, guiding his steel length to your core. Not even teasing your entrance, you push through. Not stopping your descent until he’s fully sheathed, and you sigh. Looking up at the ceiling while his hands explore your curves.

At the party it’s so hard and fast and just about getting off, but in the privacy of your bedroom it’s like you’re discovering each other for the first time. His calloused fingertips move over every inch of your body. Ghosting over your supple skin before settling on your tits.

They gently graze over your pebbled peaks, tweaking and teasing them until they’re as hard as his cock. Giving them a hard pinch before you start bouncing over top of him. Riding him like it is your job. Like it’s your purpose. Steve stares up at you like you’re a goddess, and this time, you take his pleasure. Steal it right from his lungs with every whining moan that echoes from his sinful mouth.

He may like things rushed, but you love when he worships you. Staring up at you like you’re the only person in the world while your body swallows him. Fusing the two of you as one, just like you are meant to be. Nothing feels as good as Steve. Nothing is more beautiful and pure as when the two of you connect.

It doesn’t matter the pace that you move over him, it just matters that he is in you. A part of you. Something so beautiful, and you can receive the best pleasure known to man. This isn’t taking, it’s equally being in awe and so in love with each other. The universe dealt you and Steve some of the worst cards, but you have each other. Of all the bad in your life he is the only good. The solace outside of the chaos that you seek refuge within.

“Shh, Ri, you’re getting too loud, baby. Look at me,” opening your eyes, you lock eyes with him, holding his gaze makes this experience so much more intense. Like the two of you are floating in the clouds by yourself. Don’t even notice anything around you. “There, right there, baby. Fuck, you’re amazing. Heavenly.”

That’s how he feels to you, heavenly. If you could take him and you and live in the middle of nowhere and survive off each other’s touch, you would in a split second. “My god. Ri, this is…uhhh,” his eyes roll into the back of his head, and now is the time you need him.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he stares up at you confused, and lost in his pleasure. “Don’t make me get off. Fill me. Come inside me.”

“Don’t ask me, we can’t.”

“I’m on the pill,” it takes him no time to push his hips up, and flip the two of you over. Slamming his hands on your bed frame, and he rails into you. Fucking you so deep you swear you see stars. Nothing in your room is visible anymore. Just Steve.

You run your nails down his back, and settle on his ass, pushing him even deeper into your soul. You want to feel him for the rest of the day. Walk funny. Keep a part of him inside of you. “Yeah. Steve, I’m going to…I’m going to…oh fuck, fuck — fuck me!”

Biting on your lip, you let the words grunt out of you as your walls clench around his cock. Putting him into a vice grip as it milks every bit of his delicious thick cum. Spurting his seed into your core just where it belongs. The first time you have ever felt him like that, and you sigh as you smile up at him, but his face falls.

“He’s came in you, hasn’t he?”

“What? No. No, Steve, don’t ruin this. It’s just been you. Don’t. I-I-I can’t. Just don’t right now. Love me. Love me!” This has taken a drastic turn and you try to bring him back to you, and into this moment. It’s a struggle to register just what it is he’s asking.

“Ri?”

“You were the first. I-I-It has only been you. Don’t fight this. I need your touch right now. Don’t leave me this time. Please, don’t,” what is it with him and always finding a dramatic way to leave when you just want his touch, and to hold you? It’s like he’s forgetting an important part about being inside of you.

“You’re lying to me,” his voice is so flat and without emotion as he starts pulling out of you. Giving you no time to relish in the feeling of him still inside of you. “Why are you lying?”

“Steve, please, just look. Look at the mess we made. Look at…look at me. Don’t. Just don’t run away,” you feel your heart start to crack into tiny little shards as he stands up from the bed. Leaning down to pick up his clothes. “Steve. Just lay in bed with me a little bit. I’ll keep you inside of me the rest of the day.”

“I don’t want him touching you anymore. And don’t ask me to go to those parties.”

“Steve?” You can’t even hide the tears that well in your eyes. “We were going to hang out tonight. You can fuck me on the couch in front of everybody. Really claim me. They’ll never touch me.”

“Rio, I’ve got…I’ve got some things to do today.”

“You bastard, Steve Rogers,” you don’t raise your voice as he opens up your bedroom door.

“Clean yourself up,” he closes the door gently, but you launch a pillow towards the opening. Holding in a scream as you make a muffled sound in your throat. Going to your closet, and throwing on whatever you can before going into yours and Becca’s shared bathroom. Angrily brushing your teeth. Two can play that game.

Becca opens up her door. Looking up and down at you, while she leans against the frame. It only pisses you off further. You assume your gums are bleeding by how harshly you brush them. Finishing up by spitting into the basin, and turning to glare at her, “What? What could you possibly want?”

She walks into the bathroom, grabbing up her own toothbrush before looking at you through the mirror. Turning back to you, and she leans into your ear, “You’re leaking,” your hand goes in between your legs, and you gulp. Steve’s cum.

“You know, if you want to be Steve’s sloppy little slut, maybe you should have the decency to fuck him outside of my parents’ house. And maybe you should clean yourself up just like he asked. I wouldn’t be awake if you weren’t so damn loud.”

“Why don’t you ask your brother how loud I can be, you bitch,” you spin around, and close the door on her. She hated you, and you know she hates the idea of you being with her brother even more. Fucking Bucky. He had to ruin the first good thing you and Steve could have had. And the worst part is, you didn’t even get to enjoy your first creampie. Or the second.

You just have to get out of here. You didn’t want to stay inside all Saturday. If you’re going to be alone, you’re going to be alone outdoors. Riding your bike. Going anywhere. But clearly going alone. Steve is going to have to stop being such a scared little shit. He’d see how much the two of you are meant to roam the world together, and without these people surrounding you. That’s what he needs. To get away. Maybe you should see what you can do about finishing high school early. It wouldn’t take too long. Maybe a few weeks. You could do it, and it would be worth it to have him how you want him.

——

Sniffling you start to stumble again. Giggling when you fall onto the train tracks. Today was hell. Any day where you have to think too much always is, but today was particularly bad. Your body itched, and you cried, and laughed. All day until you were able to swipe a few bottles of Boone’s Farm, and stuff them in your backpack.

Even though you struggle, you manage to stand back up, and attempt to balance on the tracks. Wobbling, but righting yourself until you fall onto your back, and you groan at how uncomfortable the backpack feels underneath you. Lumpy and pushing into your spine in an aggravating way.

“Ugh,” maneuvering it off your back, you pull out another bottle. “Ooh, blue this time,” removing the top you take a long swig of the drink. It now tastes like a delicacy, and you’re thankful for that. Placing the cap back on, you lay back on the tracks, and gaze up at the night sky.

“I hate you,” you wonder who it is you’re talking about. Definitely Steve, but a small part of you is yourself. You’re only refuge is Steve and somehow you always fucked it up. You should have relished in that moment today, but instead you pissed him off. What else was he supposed to do? You betrayed him and you had to think.

No one had even come looking for you. Becca wouldn’t. She hates you as much as you hate her. She couldn’t understand the pull you and Steve had to each other, and she was probably jealous that he chose you over her anyways. But with you it wasn’t even a choice. Your parents had all died to make sure you ended up together, and you are constantly fucking it up.

You feel your eyes start to get heavy. With the stars as your blanket it’s a comforting feeling. It isn’t too cold tonight, and you have a break from your brother that crawls into your bedroom, or the other one that you allowed to come inside of you. You let the stars spin around you, lulling you into a sleep.

Fighting to keep your nightmares at bay while your dreams are losing the battle. Happy domestic times where you have a home constantly flooding, or you’re drowning in the tub. Spirals of weird shapes and faces. Grotesque and still beautiful in its way. You feared the river, but thanked it for bringing you closer to Steve. The water tried to win, but like a knight in shining armor Steve defeated it. And now you were forged together.

“Oh my god!” You can still feel his lips on yours for the first time as he breathed life back into you, and you clung to him. It was the second time your life course changed forever. “Rio!”

“Go away,” you moan, turning to your side. “Holy fuck,” sitting up, you scoot away from him. “You’re not Steve.”

“Why the hell would I be Steve? What…?” He picks up the bottle of wine, and you try to take it from him, but he’s too fast, “How much have you drunk?” Johnny takes a long pull of the bottle before he spits it out. What a waste, you could have drank that. “This shit is disgusting. Blue Hawaiian? They didn’t have the strawberry one?”

“Already drunk,” hiccuping, you let your eyes start to close again. Blocking him from the evening. If you blocked him, maybe he would go away.

“Ri, drinking by yourself is usually a sign that there’s a problem,” rolling your eyes open, you stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry, and he chuckles at you. “Falling asleep on the tracks sounds like a horrible idea, too.”

“The train hasn’t worked for years,” he smiles, taking another drink from the bottle. He keeps his eyes on you, actually swallowing the neon liquid. “I thought it tasted like shit?”

“Yeah, still does. But I can’t have you drinking alone, or I’ll have to call you an alcoholic,” he’s insufferable. You had another bottle, so you grab your backpack, and pull out the final one. “Cherry? What did you do, rob the grocery store, and you didn’t know what to get, so you got a little bit of everything?”

“You know me so well, Johnny. Tell me more,” his eyes make a slow descent down your body before taking a drink. “That’s what I thought.”

“I know you think you and Steve belong together, but you have the most twisted version love I’ve ever seen.”

“Yep, that’s my cue to leave,” it’s a bit of a struggle to stand up with the bottle, but you do it. Bending over to retrieve your backpack, some of the cherry wine pours onto the ground, but you don’t care. You just start walking.

“I know that anytime someone brings him up in a negative way, you run away,” asshole. It’s best not to react, so you take another drink. Hobbling down the tracks. Tripping over your own feet. “I know that he’s allowed to be with other women because he doesn’t want his weird ass gang to have a part of you, but you behave and stay at home waiting on him.”

Things are complicated between you and Steve. No one would understand. That’s a promise you and him had made years ago. They couldn’t understand because they didn’t want to. “I know that every time he fucks you at a party, you leave looking sadder and sadder. Nobody ever cares how you feel when Steve is always the problematic one. Always getting arrested, and needing bailed out of jail. And then he whines and goes to you for the comfort that only you can provide.”

“And I know you’re,” you spin around too fast, and everything goes in slow motion as your body shakes and wobbles before you feel gravity start to pull you down, but Johnny moves quickly, grabbing at your waist, and pulling you into him. And you gulp as you stare up at him. His jaw is oddly pretty.

“I’m what?”

“An asshole who they won’t allow in with them.”

“You wanna know the real secret, Rio? I don’t want to be part of them. I didn’t want to go through the initiation because it’s demeaning and fucking sick. The worst way to prove your loyalty, and it’s just so they all get a taste of each others’ property. Because that’s all you are,” what the hell is he even talking about. You were property. You were to be used. And that’s how it shows they’re loyal. You head starts spinning in the process of trying to put it all together.

An odd noise builds up in your throat, and Johnny has you spun around in his arms, leaning you over the tracks, and you hurl your guts out. Eyes watering as your body expels everything from the night, and still he holds you. Never stops no matter how disgusting this is.

When everything is released from your body, he pulls you back into him, “Get on my back.”

“No. Let me lay here in peace,” weirdo. He just wants you on top of him. And you can’t have that. You have to be alone until Steve finds you. Because that’s how it always happens.

“The temperature is dropping.”

“And I can’t go home drunk,” he doesn’t wait for you to get on his back, just places you on there, and you don’t want to fight. You’re tired of fighting for the night. You’re just tired. You let your head rest on his shoulder as he continues to follow the tracks. “Where are we going?”

“To my house,” it’s a simple enough answer, and you can think of the consequences later. He feels quite comfortable, and you let him carry you into whatever next fight that this will cause. It will cause an uproar with Steve, and Johnny may not be here the next day, but it was his decision. He wanted to talk about steve’s problems with the law, but has no problem with being the reason Steve gets in trouble again. If he’s caught.

You feel him walking up steps when you finally open your eyes, and look around confused. He carries you to a couch before he walks back down the narrow hall, and starts moving around a small kitchen. You look over everything, smiling despite the sick taste in your mouth. “I’ve got extra toothbrushes if you want to um, well brush your teeth,” he peeks over to you on the couch, nodding towards the back of the hall.

You follow where he’s looking, smiling even bigger, “This is a train car.”

“Yeah,” how can someone just respond so simply to that? There is no explanation as to why he’s living in a train car. And what exactly is in the other ones. “The next car over is the bathroom, and the one after that is my bedroom.”

“How? And why?”

“Storm Railroad Company, really?” You’re a fucking idiot. Of course. “I don’t know, I like living in the middle of the woods, alone, so nobody can bother me. Asked my granddad if I could, and he said, sure. So here we are,” he walks over towards you with a plate, and you stare at it. “It’s buttered toast. Here.”

He sits down on the other end of the couch, as far away as he can get, and you keep staring at the toast. “Why are you being so nice to me?” No one has every showed you kindness like this. It’s like he’s wanting to take care of you just when you need it.

“Because no one else takes care of you,” for someone who has had such a short life, you have felt more pain than most. Your life changed drastically in a short amount of time. You nearly drowned, and continue to have nightmares, but you have Steve. “Eat, Rio. There was no food in your vomit. When was the last time you ate?”

“This morning I had some powdered donuts,” taking a slow and timid bite, you look out in front of you, so you don’t have to see his face. It pisses you off because he’s being not only nice, but sweet.

“It’s nearly midnight,” you shrug your shoulders. Your bites start to quicken as you let the simple meal take you away from this morning with Steve. Johnny is too observant, and too smart. You feel his eyes on you, and you wish you could just go into a small hole, so he couldn’t see you. And then there is a tiny, minuscule part that wishes he’d look harder.

“What’s on your wrist?” You shrug, picking up the other piece of toast, and he reaches over to pull your wrist to him. His soft fingers rub over the area before he sighs. “You want to talk about why you do that?” you shrug again, stuffing the remaining bread in your mouth, and he stands up to gather your plate.

“This could be easier if you just talk,” this could be easier if he just knew.

“Why do you care?”

“You fascinate me,” he slumps back on the couch, and still keeps the same amount of distance from you. “You want that toothbrush now?” You shake your head no, and look back towards the kitchen. “You thirsty for something that’s not cheap ‘wine’?” You give him a nod, and he smiles as he gets up. Pouring you a glass of Sunny D before the same routine happens. Still just as far away.

“Sunny D? Seriously?”

“I don’t want to hear any lip from the girl who was drinking Blue Hawaiian Boone’s Farm, you understand?” You giggle as you take a sip from the cup. “That was a genuine smile and laugh,” the way he looks at you should make you uncomfortable. He studies you. But instead of feeling an unease, you like being noticed.

“I do that sometimes.”

“You should do it often,” conflicting worm up your chest with that admission. He likes your laugh, but what do you have to laugh about?

“Not all of us grew up rich and with our parents,” he gives you a single nod, and you have to look straight ahead again. He’s intense in a different way from Steve. With Steve you know him better than you know yourself, and know what his intentions are. Johnny is a mystery, and it puzzled you why he even cares. You are a nobody, while he’s from the richest family in town. He’s privileged in a way you could never understand.

“You want to tell me about the band on your wrist?”

“Why do you care?”

He sighs, realizing cracking you isn’t going to be easy. All you want to do is go around in circles with the same responses. “Maybe I just want to talk to you.”

“Snapping it on my wrist is like remembering what real life is. You know the saying pinch me because I’m dreaming? I have nightmares about drowning. Not always, but a lot of the time. And it just helps me remember when I’m awake and when it’s just a dream that can’t hurt me,” he reaches for your hand again but pauses before touching you. “What?”

“Can I take it off for you? Just for tonight?”

“Why?” It’s an odd question.

“I’ll wake you up if I see you’re having a nightmare,” you stare at him. Actually analyze him because you have no idea how you’re supposed to respond to that. It shocked you to have someone that wanted that responsibility.

“How will you know if I’m on the couch?”

“Oh, you thought you were sleeping on the couch? No. I have a gigantic bed back there. It’s not like we have to sleep right next to each other, but you look like you need some luxury. Are you still hungry?” You shake your head no, and he stands, holding a hand out towards you. “I won’t bite.”

You should run away, and go home. Pretend all of this didn’t happen, but you don’t want to. It feels like the first time anyone has ever truly cared about your well being. You aren’t sure what Steve thought the rubber bands were for, but he never truly asked, just asked why you are wearing them again. Making yourself that vulnerable to Johnny feels freeing. Like a brick that you’ve carried on your back for a while was removed.

You let him lead you to the bathroom car, and you stop. “I need to pee.”

“You need to brush your teeth, too. Here,” he reaches into a cabinet pulling out a never been opened toothbrush, and hands it to you. “You want to take a shower?” Yes. You can’t tell him that. “Let me get you one of my shirts, and some boxers. I know it’s not the most ideal, and had I known you would be staying the night, I could have been prepared. But I also didn’t know I would find you on my walk home.”

Without responding, he just wanders back into what you’re assuming is the last train car, and you just stand there. It’s overwhelming to think someone is as kind to you as Johnny. There had to be some form of a catch, nobody does all this for nothing in return. But you couldn’t quite figure it out, unless it is just physical with him.

He jogs back into the middle car, and you have to tell him. Be up front with him, “I’m not going to have sex with you,” he lays the shirt and boxers on the vanity for you, and stares at you oddly. Scratching the back of his head as he contemplates how he’s going to kick you out. There it is. That was always what he was after. You should have known.

“I wasn’t planning on having sex with you either. Number one, you’re drunk. You’re sobering up, but you’re still drunk. Sorry, you can’t consent to me when you’re partially intoxicated. Number two, pretty sure you’ve got whatever with Steve, and I’m good. Number three, I’m not interested. You look like you need a friend more than you need another man shoving themself into you.”

You nod. Stepping into the room that he had fashioned as the shower, and close the door. You couldn’t look at him after that confession. It’s a lot to process while your brain is addled with the usual bullshit, but nasty wine on top of it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you call out to him. You can’t ever recall someone saying sorry, and it sounds genuine. Why is your life so fucked up? And why did you keep digging yourself a deeper hole? Whatever this was, Steve would never think it’s innocent. “Johnny?”

“I won’t say anything if you don’t,” that helps. A little bit.

Stepping into the shower you turn it as hot as you can stand. You didn’t realize how cold you have gotten. How being outside in the night, and this — situation, has made you freeze. You hate being cold. Cold brings out the bad thoughts and feelings. You let his shower wash them all away. Didn’t even care to see the feelings swirl down the drain. You were going to do this. Go on a journey to gods know where. All because you selfishly don’t want to be cold, or alone. And Johnny is a friend. You desperately need a friend.

Nobody had even called or texted you tonight. The lost and forgotten girl. The Barnes’ couldn’t wait to get rid of you, but you thought Steve would have sent something. Guess it means he found another woman for the evening. But you got to have him inside of you all day. You wonder if that meant as much to him as it did you. And wonder what it is that let him know what Bucky did. Another moment stolen from you.

But there’s comfort in knowing that nobody could steal these moments from you. Because they wouldn’t even know. If your friends want to abandon you, and your family, and your soulmate why couldn’t you abandon them? A deep pang in your stomach reminds you that you could never abandon Steve. Just the thought of being without him feels like torture. One of these days all this pain would be worth it.

Maybe.

Masterlist

@tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @musingsfromthemitten

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bullet-clubs-bitch · 5 months

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Can you please write an Kenny Omega X Fem Reader Story(smuty/flirty), Reader is the younger sister (by 10 years) of Matthew and Nicholas. Reader and Kenny always flirts and teases each other because they have an thing for each other but Matt and Nick are the overprotective big brothers and don't let them alone together, but on one night reader sneaks out of her hotelroom and to Kenny's and they start to make out and ending up having passionate sex

No one has to know

Kenny Omega X young bucks sister reader

@saramusazzi99 @swaggybae asked to be tagged :)

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, unprotected sex

Kenny Omega Masterlist Main Masterlist (word count 2k)

I was getting tired of the games Matthew and Nicholas were playing. I get that they were my older brothers and they only wanted ‘what’s best for me’ but what they claimed was best for me was complete BS. It’s no secret that Kenny and I have feelings for each other. Everybody knew about it, the sexual tension between the two of us was deadly. Despite everyone thinking we fucked I have never even got the chance to kiss that gorgeous man. Why? That’s because for years my brothers have done everything in their power to keep the two of us apart. They even went as far as hiring a private investigator to follow me around to make sure Kenny and I didn’t have a secret relationship going on. I don’t think Matt and Nick even understand all the harm this is causing. All I wanted was Kenny and all he wanted was me. Keeping us apart was just making us fall harder in love with each other. It’s hard seeing all of my friends get married and have kids knowing I probably won’t get to experience that due to my stupid brothers. I tried to date other people, I tried to accept it and move on but I couldn't. No one came close to Kenny. Everything about him was perfect, I loved every inch of him. He was the love of my life and I knew I wouldn’t give up on him, I wouldn’t give up on us.

Kenny’s pov

Ever since I turned 40 I have looked at life differently. I never wanted to get married or have kids. I didn’t even like the idea of being in a relationship. Wrestling was always my number one priority. That was until I started developing these feelings for Y/n. I’ve known Y/n for as long as I can remember. She was the little sister to two of my best friends Matthew and Nicholas Jackson. I don’t know when I developed these feelings for Y/n, one day I just woke up and I realized I was in love with her. Sure she was younger than me, almost 12 years to be exact but neither of us seemed to mind the age gap. She was gorgeous, whenever she entered a room everyone turned, everyone smiled. She just had the aura that made everyone want to get to know her. I know she hated it, she was oblivious to the fact that everyone was head over heels in love with her. I remember her telling me she hated all the attention, how she wished she could hide and have five minutes to herself for once in her life. I always made sure to keep an eye on her, I wanted to keep her safe from all the weirdos who dared to lay eyes on her. I was always jealous of how I couldn't have her. Matt and Nick won’t allow us to be alone in the same room together. I understood that they were protective of their little sister but come on. I think I was the best fit for Y/n. No one would keep her safe and love her forever like I would.

Although this back-and-forth flirty game of us not being able to get to first base has been happening for years the moment I turned forty I decided now was enough. I was done playing games. I was tired of all of this. I didn’t want to give up on us but something had to change.

That night when I got to the arena the first thing I did was march into The Bucks office. I slammed the door and began letting out all my pent-up anger from over the years. “You two realize that you are ruining Y/n’s life right? You claim to know what’s best for her but the truth is you won’t accept what’s truly best for her. Or should I say who’s best for her? I’m sick of the two of you getting involved with Y/n and I. You know I would do fucking anything for her. You know that I would make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. I would love her to death. Tell me again why is it that the two of us are forbidden again? Is it because I’m your best friend and she’s your sister? I’m the best one for Y/n and you know it! You’re telling me you don’t even care that guys like Adam Cole and CM Punk are literally obsessed with her! You would rather have your sister go out with someone like PUNK, you know the guy we all got in a fight with and fired, over ME!!!!” I didn’t even know what I was yelling about. I just kept on screaming. Matt and Nick did nothing, they just sat there and let me get everything out.

“I’m sorry Kenny but it’s still a no. I’ll admit you’re a great guy and all but I won’t let this happen-” I cut Matt off before he could finish his sentence. “You do realize she hates you right? I can’t blame her, you guys are literally out of your minds! Y/n is a grown-ass woman, I think she is capable of deciding who she dates!” I still don’t get why I can’t be with Y/n. Did they think I wasn’t good enough for her? Me? Really? Have you seen the other guys who are after her??

Just as Matt and I were in the middle of a screaming contest Y/n walked into the room. “Well look who it is!” I told Matt “I think Y/n should decide whether she wants to go out with me or not!” “You know I want to go out with you Kenny. You know I feel the same way about you that you do for me” she told me “See!” I told them, still they wouldn't buy it.

“I don’t care about what either of you says, you will not get my blessing!” Matt yelled,

“I hate you!” Yelled Y/n before she stormed out of the room. Nick called after her “Don’t go too far, you have a match tonight!”

That night I liedy in my hotel room alone once again. I hated this, I hated everything about this. The Bucks didn’t approve of this relationship but never told us why. Just then I heard a faint knock on my hotel room door. I looked at the time and was curious on who would be at the door at this hour. To my surprise I found Y/n standing there wrapped around in a hotel robe. I quickly pulled her inside, locking the door behind me before asking “What are you doing?”

“You know exactly what I’m doing. I’m going insane without you. I need you, I need you so bad” The look in Y/n’s eyes was one of pure desire and lust. She knew what she was doing.

She let the bulky hotel robe hit the floor, revealing a black silk robe. I knew what that meant. She pulled me close as she began to passionately kiss me. All of this felt so wrong but so right. I had waited years for this moment, there was no way I would let it slip through my fingers. I kissed her back with such passion I didn’t know I had.

We took our time with everything. This was our first time together, we wanted to savor every moment in case it didn’t happen ever again. I carefully removed her silk robe to reveal a gorgeous black lace lingerie set. “I don’t deserve all this,” I told her as I blushed. “Yes you do, I wanted to do something special” She replied.

We were tangled in each other, fighting for dominance. I found myself lost in the moment, oblivious to what was going on around me. I had Y/n pinned underneath me. I kissed and nipped my way up and down her body before ending above her navel. Just before I was about to go any further I felt as if reality set in. “Shit” I whispered to myself. “What? What happened?” Y/n called out. “Give me a second, I need to find a con-” Y/n cut me off “I don’t want that,” she said. “What?” I replied shocked, “I was hoping you would get me pregnant tonight” I froze at her words, I didn’t know how to respond. “What do you mean by that?” “You do realize if I was pregnant with your child they wouldn’t keep us apart right? They hate us together but would hate us even more if we had a child out of wedlock. They would force us to be together after that”

She had a point. Didn’t know if I was ready for a kid right now but I was too turned on to care. “Fuck it”

I can’t explain how I felt. I just felt at peace, I felt like I had found my home. I felt safe inside her. It was like I found the missing puzzle piece. The two of us fit perfectly. I had never made love with such passion and love. It was emotional, tears were shed. Not tears of pleasure or pain but tears of overwhelment. Everything we waited for was finally happening. I still couldn't believe this was happening. “I love you Kenny” Y/n whispered as we met each other’s thrusts, our fingers intertwined with each other’s. “I love you too Y/n, more than you could imagine” I responded.

My body was on fire, all my senses were overstimulated. I was close and so was Y/n. “Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me to fuck a baby into you?” “Please, I never wanted anything so bad” If that wasn’t the confirmation I needed Y/n wrapped her legs around my waist. Forcing me closer into her.

I continued to fuck us both through our orgasms. I’ll admit I had never cum so hard in my life. I could feel my load paint her walls, filling her up to the brim. I collapsed on her chest as the both of us tried to catch our breath. After a while I carefully pulled out of her, making sure not a drop of my cum spilled out of her. “What are you doing?” Y/n asked giggling as I carefully lifted her legs above her head. “We can’t afford to waste a single drop if you want to carry my baby”

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a-cure-for-hysteria · 1 year

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Crowley attracts neurodivergents because he smells like us.

(Expanding on my previous rant about how we see ourselves in him). No, not saying he's autistic coded or anything like that, just that - and you probably don't struggle to see where this is going - he kinda portrays several very common autistic experiences. 1: First, he's a naïve 'kid', clearly with a special interest (machines and building things), something he's very skilled at. He assumes he's allowed to ask questions about Creation, not trying to hide his frustration when he doesn't understand why things are the way they are. He does not mask. 2: Then, he's cast out of Heaven with the rest of the angels who asked questions, after them having waged a war on Heaven (?). He fights for good, he wants justice no matter what. 3: After the Fall, his naïvety is gone, replaced by bitterness and cynicism - but even on the walls of Eden, he's still nice to someone who presumably never hurt him. 4: We see him turning into a snake at will in Eden. He slithers around, tempting Eve, pulls strings - still, for justice. He has started masking, and does it well, but believes he does it for good. 5: Throughout history, he mostly spends his time alone or in situations that don't offer connection with others, completing tasks for Hell, gradually losing his sense of self. He still cares, he still want's to be a good person, but he doesn't know what "good" is. Everyone's a hypocrite, and he feels all alone. All he has is his sense of justice, and he comes to believe that he can only trust himself. 6: Aziraphale, arguably also portraying several common autistic experiences, is the only person who understands Crowley. Possibly because he has a different trauma to that of Crowley's, but definitely still a trauma caused by Heaven. Aziraphale knows WHY one masks in Heaven, something Crowley learns too late. 7: Crowley wants to isolate from the world, is angry, traumatized and wants nothing to do with Heaven or Hell. At some point, this requires him opening up just a little to that other weirdo he keeps running into, and they form a partnership - initially only because of common interests. I might be reaching here, but a lot of autistic people have "common interest acquaintances" morph into friendships, they often can't be friends with just anyone. They need a good reason to. And Crowley and Aziraphale's shared desire to do as little as possible (and later, save the world) is such a common interest. 8: Via engaging through their common interest, Crowley opens up more and more. Again, we see the naivety we witnessed earlier (In The Beginning, S2E1) - that happy kid who just enjoyed seeing his machinations take form. For him to dare a romantic relationship with Aziraphale, it is essential for Crowley to (at least begin to) heal the trauma caused by Heaven. Him allowing himself to experience pure, naïve excitement is a prerequisite for love, I think. Without this change, he will be on his toes at all times, never letting his guard down. 9: He finally reaches a point where he forces himself open, out of desperation. It wasn't done right - it was done with fear and anger, but he was vulnerable enough, and finally naïve enough to try. This was immediately punished by Aziraphale, who abandoned him (not necessarily what happened, but definitely what Crowley feels). 10: And so, Crowley might retreat back into his hard, cynical shell, having lost the only person who gets him. Better just self-medicate, with alcohol and whatever else not shown on screen that I can promise you Crowley does. It's the "autistic, care-free kid to bitter, cynical, functional addict/goth-adult"-pipeline.

#good omens season 2 #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens #ineffable spouses #innefable husbands #neurodivergent #neurodiverse stuff #its the neurodivergency #neurodiversity #audhd #autism #asd

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d34dlysinner · 1 year

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🙇Hi yes hello very self indulgent request or whatchamacallit. But the Kings esp Beezlebub and lucifer, my bbygs, (Stolas too if possible 👉👈) first overall needing to asbord demon Lust event, with an afab me. Mc is kinda nervous and unsure about havin sex lmao, it doesn't repulse her or anything, but it follows the phenomenon of touch starved people wanting affection but when It comes to intimate moments they kinda freeze and get unsure. Totally not callin myself out rn

Understandable

MINORS DNI!

(Let's assume that MC doesn't instantly need demon essence)

Satan crawled on top of you. Eager to finally have you like this. He lined himself up with you and planned to push himself in until he noticed how stiff you were. He halted what he was doing and sat up straight on his knees.

"You're as stiff as a plank right now. Are you okay?", he asked. His actions and words really made you wonder whether he's really the great demon king of wrath. It made your heart melt seeing how he worried for you. He settled for holding you for a while. You could smell the scent of cat fur as he embraced you. He was just waiting until you were calm enough to relax before he dared to do anything.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't feel up for it..."

Mammon does the thing he always does with every partner he had. He waits and sees if they're prepared enough to take him. One of his hands was feeling along your sides. Rubbing up and down in a comforting way as he felt you freeze.

"If you're scared, we don't have to continue.", he says as he finishes with a promise that he will be careful when you both do continue.

He would wait until you're ready. If you're not ready at all he wouldn't even blame you. He can always settle for holding you once more.

Leviathan somehow knew that you were going to freeze as he pulled away from your neck and sat straight.

"I knew that this was going to happen. It's somehow weird how you can eye upon my frame with such lust and then chicken out the moment we're actually trying to do the deed."

He seemed harsh and very honest. It made you feel worse in a way and regret starting this. It wasn't until he noticed how hurt you were that he changed his demeanor. He started to hold your hands as his thumbs rubbed circles on the top of your hand. He kissed them before he decided to lay down and wait with you.

"We can continue when you feel like it... sorry.", he said that last part quietly. How you managed to make this king apologise. You'll never know. He probably did care a lot for you.

Beelzebub was kissing, biting and licking all over you before he decided that you were ready enough for him. He planned to push into you when he noticed that you almost stopped breathing. He halted what he was about to do as he checked up on you first.

"Are you okay?", he asked as he was drawing circles on the inside of your leg. He would lean in and give tiny kisses over your face as he waited for a response. When you tell him that you're not ready he'll lay down beside you and offer to watch some sort of movie to keep your mind of off things.

"We might aswell watch something interesting.", he says as he puts on a screen and allows you to scroll

Lucifer is one who would love to taste your tears again. He would abuse the situation you're in right now if he didn't fear you hating him. It also goes against what he wants to do with you. He said multiple times that he'd rather make you cry out of happiness and love. Sometimes he can't help it and he causes it with fear. He'll feel shitty afterwards, but always makes sure to make it up somehow. Not by apologising tho... that's too much for him.

He decided that it's best to stop at that moments as he takes a book to read. He'll read it for you if your interested enough.

Stolas himself would also get nervous when this is happening. So he sort of understand where you're coming from. It's not like he has absolutely no experience, but the connection he feels to you makes him scared to mess it all up. So he just stopped what he was doing when he saw you tense up and freeze.

"Look... We don't need to continue now... we can do it any other time if you're still up for it."

The only thing he hopes is that he's atleast allowed to be the one you're doing it with when you do feel up for it. He doesn't know what he'll feel or do when he hears that you just straight up went with another demon to do this with.

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb asks #whb satan #whb beel #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb lucifer #whb stolas

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vasito-de-leche · 9 months

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Hi! If request still open, could you do a romantic hcs for Click from reverse 1999 please?

;R1999 CLICK - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about Click in a romantic relationship.

I haven't thought much abt Click but hmmm - now I'm kinda intrigued after looking through his voicelines and story! ty for the ask, nonnie!

Fandom led me to believe Click was just the a sad and wet little shy introvert victim of the horrors but now I'm willing to say that there's a little more nuance to that - his behaviour is muted and calm, but many of his voicelines point towards a very daring and fearless personality.

One of them states how he was never even afraid of landmines in the first place, and we also have to take into account the fact that his job requires a lot of courage. He also has no problem prioritizing a picture, regardless of what people might think or say - or the trouble he could get into.

In the context of romance, Click is quite a breeze of fresh air - despite having little to no experience in relationships, he's naturally curious and straightforward in his own muted, calm way. Very inquisitive when it comes to learning the ropes, finding out more hidden facets of his partner and also learning about his own. There's no ulterior motives, no ungodly amount of emotional baggage - Click is very genuine and direct.

I do think he'd be pretty dense when it comes to people flirting with him, with compliments and subtle pick-up lines flying right over his head. Click is very insightful when it comes to photography, always taking beautiful shots that just display all the beauty that surrounds him - but he's still somewhat oblivious to certain things, especially if they're related to romance. Don't take it personally if all you get is a simple thanks after showering him in compliments!

On the subject of Click realizing he has a crush.

As a photographer, he focuses on the small details - and so, it would take a long time for him to notice the big picture.

Why is his portfolio full of things that remind him of you? He doesn't understand why he keeps freezing up whenever he talks to you. Normally, he'd have no trouble asking people for a photoshoot, why can't he bring himself to ask you all of a sudden?

But as soon as Click realizes he has a crush, he's quick to act on his feelings and confront you directly - photography has taught him to never let any sensational moments pass. No matter where you are or what you're doing, you'll find Click right beside you, having manifested out of thin air, insisting that he has something important to tell you. He feels like you should know what he's feeling, and so he tells you right away.

It's not necessarily a proper confession in his eyes, at least he didn't confess with the intention of getting you to date him or find out what you feel in return - it's more so the polite thing to do, both for himself and for you, the object of his affections. This is also as far as he's planned. The moment those words leave his mouth, Click would simply bid you a good day and float away because he's just done with his business, there's no point in keeping you from going about your day.

It's up to you to confront him right away or wait a few days - either way, you'll be met with an extremely surprised and somewhat flustered Click, who wasn't expecting an answer in the first place. He'll be somewhat timid during the first few months, but once he settles in the relationship you can expect him to be even more direct, interrupting conversations you have with people because he just really wants you to hang out with him and so on.

He loves when you look for him from across the room. He just loves knowing you're looking at him.

Because of his status as a ghost and his former job during the war, Click is used to blending in with the background to the point where it's become quite the habit - it's easy to forget he's in the room and he makes his presence as small as possible, as it allows him more freedom to roam and capture small, fleeting moments.

I wouldn't say that he's desperate to be seen or noticed, quite the contrary! His voicelines express that he feels much better now that he can just float around, be a fly and the wall, etc.

But he's always been the one observing others, not the one being observed - Click is not used to receiving this unique type of attention and affection, to be on the other side of the camera.

He stammers and grows extremely flustered when he realizes that you've taken pictures of him, as if he doesn't have an album full of candid pictures he's taken of you. When he notices the way you search for him among the crowd, when your face lights up once you see him - he's so relieved he can levitate because otherwise his legs would've given out. It's no mystery that Click experiences the world through the lenses of his camera, this is how he can express himself - so knowing that his partner is looking at him with the same amount of love, adoration and attention to detail is enough to turn Click into a a smitten mess.

It takes him a long, long time to get used to simply laying down with you to rest (he doesn't need to rest the same way you do, but he still makes the effort of keeping you company if you want it) because of the possibility of meeting your gaze - so sleepy and comfortable, looking at him like he means the world to you. He knows exactly what's going through your head and the way you see him, because it's the same for him when it comes to you.

To no one's surprise, Click loves to take pictures of you.

This is a given, so I'll talk about it from a slightly different angle instead of rambling about things everyone and their dog already know.

As a ghost, the way he interacts with the physical world is extremely limited, which can be both a blessing and a curse - he can pass through walls and fly really high to get the best angles, food and water are no longer an issue, he doesn't experience life the same way everyone does and he knows this. Click, out of all supernatural entities, has adapted the best to this current state of being, but there are times when he just... forgets.

It only hits him once his hand passes right through yours, and you find yourself shivering and surprised, scolding him for trying to tease you when all he wanted was to hold your hand. When you need so many blankets just to lay down with him because he's so damn cold, an empty, lifeless void next to you, sucking up all the warmth.

And this is when Click realizes that he was content with being a ghost because he had never wanted anything in life - now that he does, it's a little jarring. There are many, many things Click wishes he could do, but he can't.

So he settles for what he knows: capturing every single moment you two spend together. He can't hold you in his arms nor feel the way you kiss his cheek, but he can still have tangible, solid proof of the love you two share in the form of pictures.

I imagine Click has many beautiful pictures of you, but the ones he loves the most are those that show all the fun he has when he's with you - this one is blurry, but he knows that's you laughing and trying to reach out for his camera to get him to stop with his antics. That one has an awful composition, but he knows that this is a picture of the first time you attempted to hug him by surprise and fell flat on your face. Another one is just an accidental picture you took of yourself, the flash blinding your eyes in the funniest expression he's ever seen.

You've made him promise time and time again to never let anyone else see such embarrassing pictures, and Click has given you his word - only because these stupid, little moments mean so much to him and he doesn't want to share them with anyone else.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #re1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #reverse 1999 headcanons #reverse 1999 click #click #not sure if this is shorter than usual but HM #thank you for the request!

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the-marron · 3 months

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Powerless. Powerless and starving, that's how the Little Ghost King begins and this is how he should end, devouring the spirits until he meets something that will be strong enough to devour him and not leave a trace of him ever existing. It is not what happens.

Reverent. That's what the Little Ghost King feels the very first time he sees the mountain god, too pure to touch - the deity should punish him for even daring to think about an embrace, he should smite him for the mere hope, for the dark urges that make the Ghost King utter this wish out loud, and yet… It is not what happens.

Inconsolable. That is not a word sufficient enough to describe the feeling that tears at the Ghost King from within once Kunlun is gone - alone, with the divine ordainment upon him, the Ghost King reads and searches, desperate to find apt words that would let him understand his own torment, to name it. It does not happen.

Devoted. That's what Shen Wei is to Zhao Yunlan, a devoted protector and occasional aid, and this is already much more than he would ever allow himself to have: it will be a good memory to hold onto as he eventually dissolves in chaos, except… This is not what happens. Zhao Yunlan doesn't let it happen.

Exhilarated. There are no other words Shen Wei can use when he enters their shared home, walks the rooms that will be theirs, than they can walk through for eternity if heavens are willing - it doesn't feel possible and might never feel that way fully, but as Shen Wei gazes upon their bed, he is overtaken with a new emotion that he cannot find the words for, but doesn't truly need to. The tragedy the Little Ghost King was meant to be, didn't happen. Wasn't allowed to happen. Shen Wei feels Zhao Yunlan's arms around his waist and lets the new feeling envelop him whole.

A fill for @guardianbingo bonus round 'Pride'.

Written because I cannot resist a new shiny badge, ehhh. I don't have the time but the baaaadge 😩

Anyways, here is my short fill. How does it fit the 'pride' prompt, you ask? Well, aside from the paragraphs, it's all about 'pride' as in 'vanity, arrogance' and here we have TGK/SW deciding he knows how his story will go, that he is the one writing it - he forgot to take a literal god into account here ~ A short experiment more than a fic, but it should count, I hope?

#my writing #guardian bingo #guardian fanfiction #weilan fanfiction

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ofallthingsnasty · 8 months

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G, H and Y for Doflamingo? You seemed curious about letter H, I wanna know your thoughts about it and Doffy especially!

Yandere Alphabet

Honestly, H (What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?) made me reblog it... I love lists like that because they make me think + help flesh out characters - and like I said in the tags, that one was so good I had to have it on here haha.

tw.yandere, violence, noncon, minors dni

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

When is it ever not a game to him? Despite him being incredibly dangerous and cruel, a defiant darling fares well with Doflamingo. He's like a kid watching his pet hamster squeeze through increasingly smaller openings to get out of a box, to reach some treats - it's entertaining until it's not. You might as well be the dirt under his shoes, you're a pathetic little creature that couldn't even break his skin if it tried. Of course your little tantrums and escape attempts are hilarious to him. How cute, you think there is still hope for you. Quaint. Bite, scratch, kick - jump out of the next window if you want, it's all a riot to him. (There is a line here - where exactly, you'll never know. But there are times when your antics do bother him. And when he's in a foul mood and you cross him? Whatever he has in store for you will have you quiet and compliant for several days, trust me.)

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Well, what's the worst thing you can imagine? That. I think he can get incredibly violent with you - and doesn't really stop. There is no love from this man, just sheer possession, obsession - you have to understand, he owns you. If he says jump, you jump. If he has you tied down and blindfolded, legs spread for random people to violate you because you dared to refuse him the night before, you say 'sorry' and 'I'll never do it again, I swear' and kiss his feet. If he locks you away for days and days on end in some empty room without anything to do and just some water because you wouldn't answer him, you'll never refuse to open up that precious mouth again when he asks you something, right, sweetheart? He'll learn how you work - what you love, what you hate, what you fear - and uses it against you. With others, that one violent outburst might be the worst thing to happen to you or that time they force themselves on you. With Doflamingo, it's like a pink-clad grotesque grab bag of worst experiences, one more horrifying than the next. Fun, right?

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I think that depends on when he meets you. Pre-Dressrosa? You're perched on his lap by the time he has figured out that he wants to keep you around and not only fuck you - who the hell has time for intricate plans or even trying to court you? He's a busy man with a million things to do. He likes what he sees and the rest can come later. It's not like you'll go anywhere, weak little dog that you are. After the takeover? He can allow himself to rest on his laurels a little - he doesn't need to pluck you off the street like a roadside flower. He can watch. Indulge in some classic little stalker antics. Learn more about you. Wait for the perfect moment to turn your whole life upside down. Doflamingo is nothing if not an afficionado, wanting to enjoy the way you'll beg and cry and plead when the world as you know it is about to be changed forever. He doesn't snap. He lies in ambush.

#that man has terrifying layers to me. fascinating character #omg that was so much fun thank you!!!#tw.yandere #tw.noncon #yandere one piece #doflamingo x reader #/doflamingo #/one piece #yandere alphabet

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sephirothsplaything · 2 months

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DNA| Sec.80 high power-chapter 14

A/N:Nooo Rhaella! Please don't project your obsessive/avoident attachment style onto Jace because you miss Aemond!!

This is the story of Lady Rhaella Targaryen; the strange one and her role in the Dance Of Dragons. Loved by few and feared by many.

The blood of the dragon runs in Targaryen's veins. Something else runs in Rhaella.

BLACK TARGARYEN OC/READER

PARINGS: Aemond, Cregan,slight Jace, slight Addam,original character.

Read the last chapter here!

"I should have been there," Jacaerys grumbled.

Rhaella looked up to the starry skies in silence. She was still reeling from her brush with death. How the weight of her dagger felt lighter when she found the resolve to kill again.

It was quite perplexing. The thought almost made her smile.

Jace had found himself outside to where Rhaella had stashed herself away. She did not particularly mind his presence, so long as he kept quiet. But here he was, ranting away.

"Are you listening?" Jace asked. Rhaella nodded. Jacaerys was angry, rightfully so. But more than anything he wished to act, to fly his dragon and turn their enemies to ash.

"It was a bold scheme, I admit," Rhaella says finally. Jace rolled his eyes in response.

"Such stupidity could only come from Aegon, I'm sure." He said.

"Criston Cole had a likely role." Rhaella comments. It was not so long ago that he had blocked her from leaving Alicent's company. There was so much hatred in his eyes.

"If my mother only allowed me to be of use." Jace ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Rhaella scoffed. Was he truly this short-sighted?

"You lack experience, your dragon is young," Rhaella states bluntly. Jace turned fully to face her. His cousin was an enigma, for sure. He could not comprehend how she was content with watching and waiting.

"You could claim a dragon or even an egg," Jace said.

"I am trying,it is not so easy." Rhaella snapped. He couldn't understand, his dragon was born to him. Rhaella was shown no such favor.

Recognizing he had struck a nerve in her, Jace drew back instantly, eyes softening.

"I meant no harm by it," Jace reassured. Rhaella shrugged his words off, it meaning little and less.

"I am not your betrothed, you need not consider my feelings," Rhaella scoffed.

Jace parted his lips to speak, but Rhaella's icy voice cut him off once more. She felt compelled to continue.

"You wish for vengeance, it is unbecoming of you," Rhaella said.

Jace observed Rhaella's state. It was as if she hadn't been attacked merely hours ago. Her serene demeanor was nearly terrifying. Like she had since made up her mind about something.

"Was Luke not worthy of vengeance?" Jace asked. Rhaella's steely purple eyes hardened. She misliked when her words were misconstrued.

"War is sweet to those who have never fought," Rhaella said. The words were for Jace as well as herself. A poor attempt to calm her own bloodlust.

"My mother holds back, it unravels us all," Jace countered. Rhaella shook her head.

"She is strategic in her wait, you are too blind to see it."

The two cousins were quiet for a moment. The warm Dragonstone breeze passed over both of them.

"Aemond will not stop, and neither shall I," Jace concluded. Rhaella tensed at the sound of his name. Hard as she might try, Aemond's letter was still occupying space underneath her pillow.

"Alright then, promise me this," Rhaella said. "You are the heir to the throne, and my sister will be your queen."

Jace's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He could not follow.

"Take all your spite and sorrow, give it to me so that you may think clearly," Rhaella said.

"I would not dare place that burden on you cousin," Jace said.

"I can take it, you cannot." Rhaella resolved. Jace's anger would cloud his logic, and if Rhaella were to instill her plans inside of him, she could not have his foolishness getting in her way. His claim was much too important.

"Agreed, but I ask something from you in return."

Rhaella's eyebrow raised. She was unsure if she was in any mood to entertain this.

"Let us help each other keep our wits about us, I know you long to act as well," Jace said.

So he had been paying attention. All the subtle twitches in Rhaella's mostly melancholic face. Twitches of rage and passes of darkness. Jace had indeed seen it all.

Rhaella was not so alone as she thought.

"Fine," Rhaella said, almost in a whisper. She resigned, hoping he would not disappoint her.

Jace stood up, stretching out. He offered his hand to Rhaella.

"The hour has grown late, shall I walk you to your chamber?"

………………..

THE MORROW CAME. Astris had scrubbed Rhaella raw and brushed out her curls into oblivion.

"You could be more gentle," Rhaella muttered. She watched Astris dart back and forth gathering her clothes for the day.

"Mayhaps, but now you look more like a lady!" Astris retorted. Holding out a towel, Rhaella wrapped it around herself.

"I never thought much of my looks." Rhaella sat on a stool as Astris began to work through her hair. Her mother would tell her that she was pretty, but Rhaella figured she was more or less obligated to do so.

Astris formed Rhaella's silver curls into a braided style more elaborate than she was used to. The braids tapered off into thick curls that fell to her waist.

"I could not know why, you have quite a lusty figure," Astris commented cheekily. It made Rhaella's cheeks grow warm.

"If you are finished with your jests, I would like my gown," Rhaella said.

Astris helped Rhaella slip into her gown, it was a fine thing indeed. A red and black dress with a form-fitting corset with long sleeves that flowed down.

"What did you and the prince discuss last night?" Astris asked, adjusting the corset.

"I simply advised him to not be a fool," Rhaella responded. Astris giggled, leaning into her.

"And here I thought it would be something of note."

Rhaella turned to face her, purely unamused. "Today you are full of jokes, I see."

Astris shrugged, a small smirk on her face. "I had nearly forgotten what your preferred taste in men is."

She was relentless today, likely bored. Rhaella dismissed Astris from her chamber, turning back to look at her reflection. She felt like a pretender.

When Rhaella entered Rhaena's room, she found that Baela was already there.

"Sudden change in wardrobe?"Baela said. Rhaella made herself comfortable on Rhaena's couch.

"Astris insisted, overwhelmingly so," Rhaella said. Rhaena's eyes sparkled at the sight of her sister, despite her own sullen face.

"What is it?" Rhaella asked. Rhaena sighed, her hands restless with one other.

"Her grace is shipping me off to the Vale with Joffery, Viserys, and Aegon," Rhaena said.

"Perhaps it is for the best," Baela said, holding Rhaena's hand. She scoffed in response.

"Yes away from everything else, I shall play the nursemaid," Rhaena said bitterly.

"You'll have our father to thank for that," Rhaella said. Since his mistake..as he called it occurred, The queen rightfully feared that the greens may take action against her youngest.

"I hate him, sometimes," Baela admitted, reluctantly. For Rhaella, it was a common feeling she held since she was a girl. Despite her loathing, she found herself missing her father.

She would not dare voice the thought.

"The queen trusts you with them the most, she knew better than to send me," Rhaella said. Joffery seemed to prefer Rhaena to herself whilst Aegon and Viserys were always occupied by a maid.

"She keeps you and Baela because of the dragons," Rhaena said.

Baela sighed again. Rhaella knew the feeling all too well. A Targaryen without a dragon was like a knight without a sword.

"If it is of any commiseration, Aegarax still refuses me," Rhaella said.

"He is wild, give it time," Baela said. But in truth, time was little and less on their side. War was at their doorstep and Rhaella was annoyingly vulnerable.

"Right," Rhaella murmured to herself.

"The queen has asked me to keep watch over Kings Landing," Baela stated.

A poorly timed thing to say, Rhaena and Rhaella glanced at each other in agreement.

"Is that safe? So close to the city?" Rhaena asked.

"I shall stay high," Baela said confidently. Rhaella greatly doubted her sister would follow the queen's instructions so closely. And what if she fell upon one of the Greens dragons?

Her stomach turned at the thought.

"Moondancer is small, she will not be noticed so easily," Rhaella said instead.

Baela gave Rhaena a reassuring hug. Rhaella simply observed passively.

"Come to the council meeting with me Rhaena," Rhaella suggested. She had grown tired of not having Rhaena by her side.

The two girls ventured to the Stone drum, the center of Dragonstone. Baela headed to the dragon pits in preparation.

Each sister took their place by the table. Jace glanced at Rhaella, eyeing the dress she wore.

"Is that new?" Jace whispered. Rhaella turned her head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Why?" Rhaella asked, a small smirk gracing her face. "Do you wish to trade clothes?"

Jace sighed in resignation before averting his attention back to the matter at hand.

"How fares Prince Daemon with our army?" Ser Alfred asks. The queen Rhaenyra seemed to physically coil at the question. She had grown weary at the mention of him, as had Rhaella.

"There has been no word, your grace." One of the maesters says. Rhaella glanced at Rhaena. Their father was practicing avoidance, as usual.

"Then we must send out all the dragons, overturn the Greens strongholds." Ser Alfred urges.

He was often quick to speak out of turn, forgetting his place. But Rhaella did not exactly disagree. Had it been up to her, she would have done away with the greens army ages ago.

If only Aegarax would let her, that was.

"If dragons begin fighting dragons we only invite our own destruction," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella's hand twitched at her side. 'All power demands sacrifice'

Ser Alfred chuckled bitterly in response. Jace's hand hovered atop his sword. Rhaella nudged him with the heel of her shoe. Slowly, he brought his hands back to either side of him.

"But your grace," Another lord spoke. "You have witnessed first hand how exposed you are."

Ser Alfred hummed in agreement. " Had Ser Erryk not arrived, you and the lady Rhaella would have been slain."

Quite the opposite, Rhaella had felt. Perhaps she would have sustained injuries, but she would have the two eyes of the invader clutched in the palm of her hand before the fact.

If only Ser Erryk had waited a while longer.

"Perhaps you should flee to somewhere safe, whilst we remain here." Lord Celtigar suggested.

"She shall do no such thing." Rhaella hurled out before she could control herself.

For watching the queen struggle amongst these idiots caused her patience to wain greatly. Why was she allowing such a thing, Rhaella could hardly understand.

"That would be treason, you are lucky you took it no further." Queen Rhaenyra said.

She stood up to leave abruptly, likely to her chambers. There was not much else for her to do.

"That concludes it, I suppose," Jace mutters out. Rhaella had grown bored of this routine.

"Come sister, let us ready your things." She said to Rhaena.

……….

RHAELLA WATCHED as Tyraxes and Stormcloud were ushered out in their crates. Rhaena held a look of nausea.

"It will be fine." Rhaella tried to assure her, although her flat tone was less than.

Baela walked up to them, embracing Rhaena.

"You have not left yet?" Rhaella asked.

Baela shot Rhaella a look. "And miss Rhaena leave? I think not."

Rhaena grasped the hands of Baela. Rhaella stood off, a small pang of bitterness stirred within her. If only she could allow herself to be so free with affections.

"Go safely, sister." Baela wished.

"I will be safe enough," Rhaena said sharply. Rhaella crossed her arms,opting to keep her gaze on the young dragons.

"I'm sure you will be well-liked in the Vale." Rhaella said.

Baela hummed in agreement. "You may find yourself glad to be out of harm's way," Baela said.

It was not so condescending, but Baela could not understand. Such was the privilege of one born to a dragon.

"Do not coddle me Baela," Rhaena said bitterly. Baela looked to Rhaella for help but found no such relief.

"You do coddle, often in fact," Rhaella said shrugging.

"But I meant no insult," Baela said sincerely. She turned her head to the dragon egg chamber. "And here, I think is some consolation."

The sisters joined Queen to Rhaenyra by them. There, presented were four eggs each of them varying in color.

"But should all come to ruin, you shall bear our hope for the future," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella stared at the eggs. In truth, she thought she had fed the last of Syrax's clutch to Aegarax.

'Ice and Fire' Rhaella felt a sharp pain in her head, causing her to hiss. She did not need to think too hard as to what had caused it.

"Are you alright?" Jace asked gently. Rhaella took a slight step back.

"Ice and fire." She muttered. Jace frowned, stricken with confusion. Rhaella had once again returned to her strangeness.

Baela and Rhaena hug once more, a final goodbye. It was unclear when they would see each other again.

Rhaena hugged Rhaella as well, pulling her from the daze she was in.

"I shall miss you," Rhaella said. Rhaena's eyes watered.

"Then grant me this one favor," Rhaena said. Rhaella looked to Rhaena expectantly.

"Burn the letter, should longing become your enemy."

But how could Rhaella tell her that it already had? She would hold it in her hand for hours at a time before she drifted off to sleep.

"As you wish," Rhaella said. A lie.

When Rhaena and their young step-siblings had left, Rhaella went back to the topic of the previous council.

The queen was in an impossible situation. It was agony to be left in the dark as to what the Greens were plotting.

Rhaella misliked not knowing things. A thought crossed her mind. Perhaps she could yet be useful to her grace—dragon or not.

"Your grace!" Rhaella sped up her pace to keep up with Rhaenyra. The queen turned to her. In all honesty, Rhaenyra was shocked that Rhaella was speaking to her. She had a thought that the girl fully resented her.

"Rhaella?" Queen Rhaenyra said. "Wha-."

"I wish to speak to you, it is urgent," Rhaella said hurridly

Rhaenyra led Rhaella into her chambers. Rhaella folded her hands in front of her, confident in her actions.

"You look quite pretty, might I say." Queen Rhaenyra commented. Rhaella tried to smile but it came out like a grimice.

"I have a proposition," Rhaella said. Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow.

"We are maintaining the blockade with my grandsire's fleets, are we not?" Rhaella asked.

Rhaenyra nodded. "It has been a great help."

Rhaella eyes down the multiple books on the side table, open to the pages of Queen Visenya.

"Visenya had a brilliant mind for warfare," Rhaella said. She did not shy away from the most bloodiest of affairs. It was admirable.

"I had hoped to draw inspiration possibly," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella herself preferred the black bride, Rhaena Targaryen.

"Use the hunger of the smallfolk as a weapon," Rhaella suggested. "The people of Kings Landing are surely starving."

"That would be too cruel." Rhaenyra shook her head. Frustrated, Rhaella shut the book with a thud.

"No, it would be war," Rhaella responded. How could the queen not see a golden opportunity right under her nose?

Rhaenyra looked at Rhaella for a moment. Such a soft face, she had. Words of viciousness leaving her mouth was quite jarring to witness.

"What would you then?" Rhaenyra resided. "If you were placed in my position."

'Surround the red keep with all of our dragons.' Was the first thought that crossed her mind.

"Infiltration, someone who could be overlooked," Rhaella said. "There is much risk with multiple spies, it is better to send a single formidable one."

"And who would you propose?"Rhaenyra asked.

"Astris, my own handmaid."Rhaella could not think of anyone better suited for the task.

"No." Queen Rhaenyra shot her offer.

"She is swift and meticulous," Rhaella argued. "Astris served the prince of Pentos before her servitude to me."

Rhaenyra considered this. She had never seen Rhaella so sure of anything.

"And you trust her, wholeheartedly?" Rhaenyra asked. Rhaella's eyes softened at the mere thought of her.

"It was she along with Mysaria who aided in my escape," Rhaella said.

"Help me see your plan then," Rhaenyra said. Eager, Rhaella sat down.

"Let Astris keep check on Aegon and the rest," Rhaella said. "She can report back anything that might be of use."

Rhaenyra hummed. "It is dangerous."

"I am confident she can handle it, Aegon is little challenge," Rhaella said. Her hand twitched by her gown. Her true worry lay with Aemond, Astris would need to avoid him.

"And if something was to happen?" Rhaenyra asked.

"I shall take full responsibility, and act accordingly," Rhaella assured.

Queen Rhaenyra stood, smiling softly at Rhaella. It warmed her to see Rhaella so expressive,as it was so unlike her.

"You have your mother's mind, I think," Rhaenyra said. Rhaella blinked, averting her gaze to the floor. She could not know how to reply

The queen Rhaenyra moved past the silence. "Ensure you prepare Astris properly, I shall make arrangements."

.............

The boat was made ready for Astris's departure at dusk. The time had come and Rhaella's anxieties ate away at her.

The two girls stood in the outer corridor. Rhaella was sending her closest friend off to the vipers, and to what end? Gratification? She could privately admit this was both reckless and selfish.

Astris seemed to sense her lady's unease. Gently, she grabbed Rhaella's shaky hand.

"I can handle myself well enough, you know that," Astris said. Rhaella knew it, as she knew very well what Astris could do.

"You could still be hurt," Rhaella said softly.

Astris smiled in response, a deep blush coloring her cheeks. "The Gods shall watch over me."

Rhaella scoffed. The Gods?

"I want you to make note of any green council member with influence," Rhaella said. In addition, she had entrusted Mysaria with maintaining communication. Rhaella wished to know every detail in the Red Keep, down to the gossip of maids. She was uniquely interested in Aemond's daily routine as well.

"Yes, my lady," Astris said. Rhaella's lips twitched into a smile.

"Be wary of Aegon, he is a cunt," Rhaella added.

Astris raised a dark brow. "I shall do my best."

The boat sails dropped, ready to venture into the waters.

"Will you be alright, my lady?" Astris glanced at Rhaella. The energy surrounding Rhaella had not subsided, it merely seemed to increase. It was all too apparent that the Targaryen's girl mind was beginning to fracture.

"We shall see," Rhaella said.

Astris began to leave with a small curtsy, but before she went any further, Rhaella pulled her in, placing a firm kiss on her lips.

"I need you to do whatever is necessary," Rhaella whispered to her. The Black haired girl looked at her with wide eyes. Astris understood her lady completely and would act accordingly.

Rhaella watched her leave, a feeling of emptiness swallowed her. She walked along the outer courts of Dragonstone, wondering if this was a fool's plan.

In the distance, the roars of a dragon could be heard. Aegarax's distinct calls shot right through her.

Maybe he was upset she had neglected to visit him with a dragon egg. It had been some time since Rhaella had seen him.

Rhaella's walk to the dragon mount seemed shorter this time around. Looking up to the caves, she began to climb. It was only when she had ventured halfway up did she she a tall figure above her.

She cursed, nearly losing her footing. What person would be daring enough to find themselves in a wild dragon's cave?

Rhaella was not too worried though, whoever was there would surely meet their end. The discontented roars of Aegarax only grew louder.

"Lykirī, Aegarax!" Rhaella tried but to no avail. She looked around for the intruder once more but found nothing that could irritate the dragon.

Whatever High Valyrian she spoke had almost no effect. Aegarax crawled out of the cave, on full display to Rhaella. His black scales reflected the moonbeams present.

"Skoros iksos ziry?" Rhaella said in a hush.'What is it?' Aegarax settled into a grumble, his head was restless.

Slowly, Rhaella reached out her hand to him. But she was met with an open-mouthed roar, causing her to jerk back immediately.

Taking cover, Aegarax took flight from the cave and into the skies. Away from her and with him he took the hopes of progress.

Perhaps it was one great jest. She had kidded herself into truly believing she had achieved something of significance.

Forever dragonless, a false Targaryen.

#house of the dragon #black oc #oc character #aemond targaryen #daemon targaryen #baela targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #black reader #rhaena of pentos #aemond x reader #house targaryen #hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #hotd2

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ashessonfire · 1 year

Note

if you’re still looking for headcanon requests: what about kaz and reader who is disabled/suffers from chronic pain? i don’t often see x reader fics include things like disabilities, and it’s really quite nice to have found a character like kaz whose struggles i can relate to - ty <33

Kaz Brekker x (Chronically ill) Reader - Headcanons <3

- Paring : Kaz Brekker x Chronically ill! Reader A/N - Thank you so much for this request, and absolutely this is important, and i suffer from multiple chronic illnesses and pains too! I am basing it off my own experiences, which is chronic illness, but i hope it's general enough for anyone to relate to :) ════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Kaz Brekker's image is one that permeates throughout the whole city, not a soul is unaware of the leader of the Crows

His limp only adds to the terrifying image, broken and twisted in every element of his being, yet completely unrelenting.

However, privately, his leg causes Kaz excruciating pain, a constant ache that never seems to cease, fatigue from stumbling around for too long, or the cold inducing agonizing flares of pain.

As a result, Kaz has become familiar with the aches and troubles, so when his partner reveals they experience something similar? Kaz suffers from a great mixture of hurt and relief

Why is he relieved you may ask?

Well, the bastard of the barrel can finally offer someone a sense of comfort and support, which in most things he finds practically impossible to do.

Sharing the experience with Kaz would offer the both of you solace, although at first it may come across as if he doesn't notice your constant pain.

However, very swiftly small pots of expensive medicines would arrive neatly wrapped on your bed, his cane would conveniently be placed close by during a flare up, and your favourite foods would mysteriously make their way to you, helping to brighten the tougher days.

Kaz is not a man of words, at all, however he would work on verbalizing his concerns, reading you easily and offering clipped but gentle check in's, like :

"How is the pain compared to yesterday?"

"I'm not going out soon, take my cane just in case"

"The painkillers are already in your drawer, I had Inej replace them this morning"

In terms of severe pain, both chronic + caused by a disability, please expect to never move a muscle - he will 100% get someone else to run around and do everything for you, especially when he himself is struggling.

If you care for him in return, you may even get a few faint smiles - he would be so deeply grateful for your attentiveness and devotion (but obviously it's Kaz, he won't show it freely)

Another reason i believe Kaz would be relieved, is that someone would finally understand his own disability and pains

You would be able to return his gestures, offering him the same sense of security and compassion, without overbearing sympathy or pity - something Kaz detests

Just after he broke his leg, I can vividly picture the pigeons of the barrel dramatically cooing at the young boys limp, explaining their sorrows for him with overwhelming pity

After this, he would undoubtedly threaten any sorrow for his condition with an excruciating death

Let's just say word spread quickly, and few dared to repeat this offence...

Kaz would also have little diaries tucked away in his office and at the slat, detailing each symptom of yours during flare ups - allowing him to prepare anything you could possibly need when the next one arrives

Kaz would feel more at ease with you than anyone else, and would likely share his own hardships with you - knowing that the pair of you can relate on a level few others could match

Honestly i just know that he would be in a strange way very relieved for you to understand his own struggles - allowing for him to be more comfortable with you overall <3

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

P.S : As a chronically ill person myself, I just wanted to say that my requests will always be open for ideas like this, and my private messages are open for anything. If anyone is experiencing any form of chronic illness and needs someone to talk to, I am here for you!! It can be super isolating and difficult, especially when those around you cannot understand your struggles, even if they try to. Hopefully this post can find all my spoonie crow fans!! <333

#kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader #shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone season 2 #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker headcanons #ashessonfire #requests open

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izvmimi · 2 years

Text

cw: angst. third person pov reader.

“You’re awful, you know that, right?”

Izuku usually smiles when she says this to him, as she has so many times before, because it’s usually in jest, accompanied by a cheeky smile, perhaps also by her elbowing him in the ribs. He’d shift and bump her back, making sure to reach an arm out to catch her if she stumbled. It was always excessive, but he’d never let her fall.

At least not in his sight.

Today is different. Today, instead, Izuku says nothing, and her whispered accusation goes unanswered. Her voice is soft, but the gravity of her words feels like an insurmountable weight on her shoulders, perhaps enough to shatter her bones.

She swallows but with a throat so dry it feels like sandpaper. It occurs to her for a moment that she doesn’t remember her last meal or the last time she drank anything, and yet this unloading of her feelings is far more important than filling her stomach.

“You could have left me alone,” she finally chokes out.

He could have, and he should have. Yes, there was a time that she wanted him more than anything else on this earth, and perhaps that is true even now, but what did that bring her? A pain that she would wish on no one, something that she wouldn’t have imagined was within the realm of human experience, something intangible but so unbearably real.

He should have left her alone.

Izuku still doesn’t answer, but she can imagine him, in a world where he had made a better decision for them and not just for him and his dreams and the world, saying something to the effect of -

Wouldn’t you have been lonely?

He would have been right then, and yet she is still lonely now despite this best efforts, and this version of loneliness is amplified a hundredfold.

Is it more tragic to have known warmth before being thrust into the cold anew?

“... Or just loved someone else.”

Someone different, someone strong enough to understand him the way he is.

She can practically hear his voice, even though he’s not speaking.

There’s no one else I want, sweetheart.

She clenches her teeth.

“You selfish bastard.”

But he’s not. He’s far from selfish. The 1% of him that knew selfishness was just the one that was willing to wound her. Everything else that comprised him - the selflessness, the kindness, the determination that practically dripped from his skin was so real, real enough to have led to this very moment.

“I hate you so much.”

She shouldn’t lie to the dead.

But she’d spent enough time pretending to be strong from ceremony to ceremony, controlling her tears and her breathing the entire time. How mournful is she allowed to be? He died a Hero, and that’s all he had wanted.

To be immortalized as the greatest one who ever lived.

She’s not allowed to hold that against him, is she? There’s a gentle titration of anger, of sadness, of bereavement, of righteousness required to be a perfect widow.

A Hero’s widow. A Hero herself.

“You should have been all the way selfless. You half-assed it.”

Her voice is harsher now and bile rises in her throat. There’s nothing close to vomit in, only his burial urn, set on the shelf, taunting her in its cruel beauty. It doesn’t even have all of him. Even in death, she never had all of him.

Her hands shake at her sides.

“How dare you love me?”

Dead bodies can’t defend themselves and regardless, there will never be an answer good enough for her.

Tears cloud her vision and she sinks, bringing the ashes with her, cradling the urn in her lap as she weeps. He was always the one to hold her when she cried, and now it’s the other way around. How ironic it is, for such a large presence to be reduced to a small vase, no larger than a baby.

“I wasn’t finished loving you back.”

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku angst #cw: angst #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

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maaarshieee · 2 years

Text

⎯⎯ ୨ Sick Days ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.0k words ┊ Fluff-Hurt/comfort *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

now isn't this such an interesting plot? hehe,, something short to keep the creative juices flowing plus i think it's funny how unhinged my zandik interpretation is... have a great day/night!! OH AND IM BEGGING FOR PANTALONE, WANDERER, ALHAITHAM AND DOTTORE REQUESTS HEHEHE, also this got out of hand...

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, basic dottore warnings, mentions of experiments, arguing, choking but not really?

It wasn't often that you'd get sick ever since you got together with Dottore. Your immune system has gotten better throughout the years, all because of the medicines and special treatments Dottore has put you through. Of course, these were only for you, and everything he has done only benefited you. He never dared to hurt you on purpose, only wishing to keep you healthy, safe, and sound.

So whenever you get sick, usually once every year, he'd be the one keeping an eye on you. Not a segment, no, screw everything else! He will take care of you and he will not give a damn about the Fatui until you've fully recovered. You always tease him for this, cooing at how sweet he is, which ultimately pisses him off and leads him to give you the most bitter concoctions he could ever make. You should be honored that Dottore himself is taking care of you (not like you had any say about it, he will get upset if you don't let him nurse you back to health).

With a cold, wet piece of cloth on your forehead, sniffling lightly as you struggled to breathe due to your clogged nose, you couldn't help but reminisce when your eyes wandered over Dottore's back. At the moment, he's taking notes of your vitals and overall health for the past few months, making sure nothing else was amiss. "Hehe, this reminds me of those times..." You rasped from your bed, snuggling more into your blankets as you closed your sore eyes. The sounds of Dottore's clothes shifting and the click of his heels indicated he was walking towards you, then the silent screech of the wooden chair told you that he had taken a seat next to your bed.

Even without opening your eyes, you could see the huge scowl on his face. How could he not? After all, he was an absolute mess when he got sick.

"Zandik, I swear to Celestia I will strap you down on one of your operation tables if you don't stay on your bed and let yourself recover in the normal way!"

"I can make my own damn medicine, why do I have to drink those ones you've bought at the market!? Have you no faith in my medicinal expertise!?"

"YES. I DON'T, BECAUSE YOU'VE POISONED YOURSELF 3 TIMES ALREADY. GET YOUR ASS BACK TO YOUR BED."

From early in the morning, to late at night, your neighbors always send noise complaints to the house you're currently renting while you studied at the Akademiya whenever Zandik was sick. Which was pretty often! With his ungodly sleep schedule, nonexistent breaks, and endless business, you wonder if his specialty as a doctor was only a bullshit thing he made up because he's always driving himself to death with his research. Oh, and he forgets to eat at least 2 meals a day.

And with him being sick, you're splurging extra mora to buy food from restaurants and taking them back home because you couldn't cook for shit. Zandik was the cook of your shared home; he even gives you death threats when you step into his 'territory' (the kitchen).

He's seriously the end of you. You don't understand why you even put up with it.

After physically wrestling Zandik back to his bed, hiding his damned scrolls and files about his research out of his reach and locked inside your drawers, you can finally put a wet piece of cloth back onto his forehead, watching him shiver at its coldness. Heaving a small sigh of relief, you unbuttoned his messy dress shirt and began wiping his body with another wet cloth with Zandik's hands gripping your wrist but still allowing you to rub all over his warm chest. It seemed to be a tad effective, his tense muscles slowly relaxing under your touch and his furrowed brows finally straightened, the back of his head falling onto the pillow.

"Fuck's sake Zandik," You muttered under your breath when his breathing grew heavy, struggling to breathe through his clogged nose. Taking out an ointment that you've been working on for the past few days, you sneaked your hand under his sweaty head to lift it up lightly, letting him sniff the ointment and biting your bottom lip, hoping that it was effective. And it proved to be a success when his breathing slowly smoothened, cheering internally. "Good, it worked." You shook your head in disbelief as you began rubbing the ointment on his shoulders, all the way down to his chest, trying to alleviate the ache in his body by massaging him. "Can't believe the ointment worked considering I only picked up medicine ever since you came into my life."

As expected, Zandik groaned at the returning warmth on his chest, shooting you an accusing glare but you only pressed your hands a little harder against his shoulders, rubbing with careful motions. Before Zandik could open his mouth, you quickly explained the ointment you made. "It's made out of a bunch of cough suppressants, topical analgesics, and some essential oils. Not a cure for any illness, but it helps relieve muscle pain and its vapors can help clear your breathing." You say each word slowly, letting his hazy mind catch up with your explanation. "Feeling any better?"

Zandik let out a grunt, baring his teeth at you, before silently admitting that he was feeling much better than before. "... My muscles don't ache anymore and my nose isn't clogged." Then he scowled again, eyeing the small container of ointment in your hands. "I'm not fond of its strong smell and warmth."

"Well, that's kinda the main thing about it."

Zandik rolled his eyes, shuffling on the bed and trying to sit up, only to be flicked on the forehead by you and laid back down. "Then I ought to make a better ointment than yours." He swatted your hand away, and you could he just became more aggravated. "What's the point if it's not a cure? Just because it made me feel better doesn't mean you're better than me."

His words definitely shocked you. And enraged you. So much so that you've accidentally dropped the basin full of water, where you've been dripping the piece of cloth, down to the floor. Zandik's eyes snapped to yours and he saw, for the first time, the way your eyes so viciously glared at him, mouth curled into a deep frown. "Well, excuse me for making an ointment only for you because I was concerned about your well-being because when you're sick, it's 10 times worse since you don't give 2 shits about yourself." You started, and Zandik wanted to argue but you kept going, shutting him up when he felt your hand wrap around his neck, squeezing the sides of his neck, but not entirely choking him. This caught him off guard, eyes widening at your growing rage. "I know you're bound to make some discovery that can make you immune to most illnesses, that's how good I think you are. But by the time you'll reach it, you'd be dead because you refuse to acknowledge that your body is deteriorating from your lack of care! And I have to care in your stead!"

Zandik struggled to speak with how tight your hand was wrapped around his neck, but he managed to muster out a whisper. "Then why do you care?" If he's such a burden to you, why even go as far as wasting your time on him? Your concerns and worries when he clearly inconveniences you. He knew that you've been missing classes and your due dates for your projects just to help him get through his fever and make that ointment, but he doesn't get why.

That seemed to anger you even more, but now it paired with glistening tears in your eyes as you grabbed his unbuttoned collar, hands shaking. Zandik couldn't tell if it was from your fury or something else. "Because I love you, damn it! I care about you because ever since you barged into my life, I started falling for your stupid antics and got invested in your research!" Zandik seemed stunned at your confession, his hands slowly making their way onto your wrists. "I started caring when you suddenly promised that you'd make me immortal alongside you! When you'd cook for me every damn day because I'd go broke or starve to death if you don't... A blind person could say you care about me as much as I care about you, so I made this stupid fucking alternative medicine to make this easier for you!"

You let go of his collar, letting him fall onto his back which made his head spin. His head pounded painfully from the massive headache he got from your yelling and manhandling, but could barely care, only keeping his eyes on you, conflicted. Throwing the small container of ointment to the ground, you picked up the fallen basin and walked out of his room. With one last glance back at him, you cursed under your breath before saying; "Don't get up and sleep, Zandik." Then you shut the door with a slam, leaving him all alone in his room.

For the next few days, you noticed that he'd grown more compliant to your demands, only reduced to grumbling against your wishes but still obeying nonetheless. You could only assume that the words you've said to him that night affected him, seeing that he's even willingly putting with your ointment's strong smell. In no time, he's back to his normal self, no longer sick and back to conducting his research, but trying his best to be a little healthier. At least now he's eating more than he usually did, and the bags under his eyes have lessened.

You were extremely relieved, and after a few days of his recovery, you finally decided to stir problems back into the house with a big smirk on your lips. "Glad you're taking yourself now, Zandik." You commented one morning, catching a glimpse of him drinking coffee on the kitchen counter whilst you washed the dishes. All you got from him was a grunt as a reply, but that was enough for you. "Though, I didn't think you'd actually believe me when I told you I loved you." You heard writing pause while you kept your head turned back from him, already imagining the expression on his face. "I guess you can say my acting was pretty convincing, wasn't it?" But it truly wasn't acting, you did love Zandik, and in the heat of the moment, your emotions caught up to you last night. It wasn't intentional, your confession, but it was your true feelings. You just didn't want him to take it seriously at the time being since you were still unsure if it was mutual. You have no idea going through his head most of the time.

Not uttering a single word, he threw his cup of coffee at the wall, right next to your head. Without sparing a single moment, you ran toward the doorway, catching sight of his seething form with a laugh escaping your lips. You'll say it was a joke for now, something you had said to convince him to let you care for him. It wasn't that bad either, since he'd begun sleeping and eating more out of spite, just so you wouldn't be the one taking care of him if he ever gets sick again.

"I'm sorry for lying to you, dear." With a chuckle, you leaned into his touch as he caresses your warm cheek. In his hand was a small container of the ointment you created just for him all those years ago. Contrary to his displeasure, you quite liked the strong smell of the ointment. "But I really did love you at that point in our relationship."

Dottore pushed back the hairs that stuck on your forehead due to your sweat. He had a small frown tugging on his lips, "Was that necessary?" He sighed and shook his head at the memory, slipping off his gloves so he could put the ointment on your skin. You merely shrugged, but your smile remained. "Nope, but it did make you think about how you felt toward me, right?"

"I suppose so." He says, planting a kiss on your cheek.

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