#i feel sick from how soul crushing it feels

[luvlyhyunjin]

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Fifty-Three - I was made for loving you.

warnings: mentions of weight, disordered eating. wc; 4.9k

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Hyunjin doesn’t get to think about how he ends up in front of your door, doesn’t get to comprehend the impulsive thoughts invading his mind. Not when he’s only known himself as a follower, so he follows, he follows where he knows you’ll be and maybe that’s why when he’s faced with his reality, he’s only capable of blaming you. For the ache in his heart, the fire he feels running alongside his blood and the recklessness coated by love that douses his actions. He blames you for everything even when his dignity curls by the corner and it disdained him. Weak, was it his lack of power or his faux hatred for you?

He tells himself he should leave, the small remaining bone of logical thinking tells him, screams that this is a bad idea, and he wholeheartedly agrees but his legs won’t listen to him, stubbornly glued to the floors of your familiar doorway in desperation and whispers of ‘I love you’s that had fallen from your lips right into his heart on this same spot. He sees it all, the phantoms of you kissing and then you’re smiling at him with your honey-soaked lips, dripping with unyielding affection that only ever manifests for him, in front of him as you tell him.

“I’ll wait for you,” and he feels like crying, or maybe he feels more like dying. He’ll ask you to bury him with your hands, right next to your dead flowers of love. Perhaps only then you’ll be able to witness the pain your name leaves on his heart, its scratched and blue. but he still misses you and it’s nothing less than pathetic. Mundane madness.

If he’s not allowed to die then he wishes he could break free of this leftover self-respect and allow himself to break down at your door, ugly and valiant and filled with piteous desires that you’ll take him. Right into your arms and through the gates of your so-called heaven. If he’s not allowed to die then he’ll kneel and beg you for an escape from you, any sort of drug that will help him numb you. maybe if you allow him to become one with you, mesh himself with your bones and your blood he will feel nothing but love for you, maybe if you drive him further into his awaited craziness this will all be okay, and he won’t have to see you whenever he closes his eyes.

It’s a maybe followed by another maybe and maybe and he feels nothing but overflowing pain the longer he stands here.

You’re nothing but hell so how come his heart has grown to be a masochist? yearning to be burned by your gentle wandering touches.

He wonders if his masculine pride is getting secondhand embarrassment of his soul crushing devotion for you. However, his thoughts are stuck on that point when you open the door as if somehow you knew he’s waiting outside. You’re shrouded in one of his old hoodies, one that he forgot behind when he packed his stuff and didn’t have the courage to face you once more to ask for it back. Or perhaps it’s simply a purposeful blunder to leave you with a piece of him in hopes it will haunt you.

His gaze is somber as they study the dark circles under your eyes and the red rimming your once glowing eyes, evidence of the tears that you shed not long ago. You’re pale, almost sickeningly so, fragile, and thinner than he had ever seen you. a part of him is almost glad he’s not the only one withering away with your dying garden of love.

“Hyunjin...” you’re the first to speak, in opposite to his, your gaze is surprised mimicking your tone. He doesn’t look like himself, but rather a ghost of what was once him. He’s the same man who crawled into your bed at night, the same man who littered kisses down your neck yet it’s not him. It was an ebbing version of him, one that had similar darkening circles to yours, exhaustion that had his back curved in a slouch, evidence of yet another crime you committed, a knife plunged into his heart and his blood on your hands. It makes you sick to your stomach.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, softly and tentatively.

And he closes his eyes at your voice, hoping it’s enough to cover the ears of his heart. To block out the reminiscences of you and how your voice manages to pull him right into the field of you he tries so hard to run away from. But everything leads back to you, in hindsight he’s sure you’ve made your mark on his fate like a plague. He has no choice but to be an extension of you, roaming around in hopes to be reunited with his home one day.

When he opens them, pain torrents from your eyes and he feels like glass, not like the expensive little statues you have around your apartment, but rather cheap, debilitated and easily broken with the delicacy you’re covered in when you call his name. No one will ever call him this softly, no one could ever be as cruel as you.

“Is it true?” he asks, ignoring your question because there’s no logical answer he could give. There’s no answer that won’t break him.

“w-what is true?” you ask. Voice weakened by your quiet nerves.

“Is it true that your dad is setting you up on dates and you agreed?” The frost in his voice melts as he spits each syllable out, replaced with unjust anger.

“Who told you this?”

“Does it fucking matter? Just tell me if it’s true or not.”

You grow quiet, your silence only plunges the knife further into his heart and the way your eyebrows furrow in a way too familiar conquest. Your futile attempts to string together a sentence is like grey clouds collecting above his head, leaving him foggy and stormy. So, he scoffs.

“So, was it all lies again? Your whole speech about how you’ll never give up on us how you’ll keep trying. It all meant nothing to you, didn’t it?”

“you’re being unfair Hyunjin.” You shake your head, a fresh set of tears collects in your waterline, and it only angers him, pushes him further into the abyss. He’s overwhelmed with the emotions raining on him “Am I supposed to sit still and wait for you forever when you’ve made it so clear you don’t want me anymore?” It’s all lies because deep down you know you will wait for him forever if you need to.

Sadness, anger, disappointment, it’s an endless symphony of terror that has him locked up and the key is in your hands. You’re refusing to let up and he refuses to come undone before your eyes.

“Do you want to know what’s fucking unfair Y/N?” you look away, the pain taking claim in his iris is enough to have you choking, it’s excruciating so your eyes run away but then he’s all up in your face, ruthless fingers gripping your jaw as he forces you to face him.

“Placing bets on people’s heart as if they’re puppets and not human beings,” his breath hits your cheek like little knifes and each one scratches with ferocious hatred “lying to me while looking me straight in the eye, playing games behind my back when I asked you time and time if there’s anything I should know about.” You sob, overwhelmingly ashamed and unable to keep eye contact with him, you try to break away from his grip, try to look away from his fiery gaze but it’s all useless when it only tightens around your jaw.

“Breaking my heart again when I so willingly handed it to you with so much trust in you.”  your heart falls apart at the way his words weakened towards the end “That’s fucking unfair.” His anger is displaced by exasperation that has you shaking.

“I’m sorry Hyunjin. I want to explain myself I promise there’s so much more to everything than you think.”

He laughs, humorless and cruel. Your words remain woefully inadequate, and it only has him dwindling further into his disappointment and he grows to feel idiotic, for coming here, for thinking he has any sort of authority over your actions. He’s only driven by his anger and longing for you, and he resents it. His grip on you loosens, and when he goes to take a step back, he’s stopped by your fingers circling his wrist.

“I never meant to break your heart, jinnie.”

“But you fucking did Y/N! it doesn’t matter what you meant to do, don’t you get it?” his tone rises, breaking towards the end and rendering you the same kind of broken.

“Okay yes, I did! I wish I didn’t, but I did. I get that but you can’t keep blaming me when you won’t even listen to me.”

“This is fucking stupid.” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair and then he’s shaking his head in disbelief.

“Forget it.” He spits then swivels away from you, abandoning his heart alongside his dignity.

But he doesn’t get to make it far, doesn’t even take the first step down because the sound of your body breaking down and your knees hitting the ground is enough for him to look back at you in panic, the vision of your limbs weakened on the floor is enough to have him rushing by your side.

“Y/N.” his arms are around your shoulders; your labored breaths have his eyes widening in worry.

“what’s wrong?” he questions; eyes raking through your features anxiously.

Your eyes have gone hazy, pupils dilating as they lose focus and it sets his soul ablaze with crippling fear, with a trembling absentminded cradle of your cheek “baby, can you hear me? come on focus on me.” He’s tapping your cheek gently, slightly panicking as his other hand rubs soothing circles on your back and you blink at him, regaining some of your fumbled mind.

“I-I’m sorry I just felt a little dizzy and my head was spinning-“

“Shh it’s okay.” He lets out a breath of relief when your eyes focus on him, blinking rapidly “when was the last time you eaten?” his voice is gentle in complete contrast to how he was speaking moments ago, breaking through the collecting clouds in your eyes. He pulls you to his chest, gathers you in his arms and despite the aching in your body you could only think about the familiar scent of peaches invading your senses. The comfort of his warm embrace has you clutching onto his shirt desperately.

“I don’t remember.” You murmur, you feel cold sweat collecting at the roots of your hair, your limbs growing weaker as if they weigh nothing.

“For fuck’s sake Y/N.” his warm palm that rests at your forehead brings a comfort akin to fresh air that you desperately breath in “can you stand up?” Despite the bells ringing in your ears, you still manage to nod, or at least you think you do even if you’re not sure with how lightheaded you’re feeling.

When he helps you stand up your words are meaningless as your body slumps into him, weak and drained of energy, without saying a word he takes it upon himself to carry you inside. The alarming lightness of your body as if carrying a singular feather has his heart tightening. You’re somewhat present yet not fully there when you press your face into his neck, your tears sting against his skin, burn him and he’s sure you’ll only leave another mark of yours on his body.

“I’m sorry,” you kept crying into his neck and Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say, not when his heart hammers against his ribcage begging for an escape from you, you who once was his sanctuary. Who is he supposed to find solace in when the cause of his heartbreak lies between his arms?

You don’t remember much of what happens after, you only remember flowing out of consciousness when he placed you on your couch, the familiar cushions are comfortable against your body, his presence brings ease to your loud mind and it quietens it for mere minutes that are enough for you to fall asleep, for the first time in a while. You can’t recall It perfectly, but you swear you felt Hyunjin’s colder hand in yours.

When you wake up it’s 9 p.m. The scent of cooked soup, specifically chicken soup erupts from your kitchen, filling the space of your small apartment and has your stomach growling in hunger. A dull ache has latched itself on your every muscle as if you’re a corpse who just gotten back to life. You run a tired hand over your face, a headache starts to form as soon as you sit up.

“you’re awake,” Hyunjin’s voice startles you, have not noticed him standing there. Eyes locked on you and you only nod in response. Your throat is parched.

“Water?” he asks when he notices your lingering silence and you nod, averting your eyes as he disappears back into your kitchen. When he’s back there’s a tray between his hands, carrying a glass of water and a bowl of what you assume to be the soup you smelled.

“Here.” He mumbles, a tinge of awkwardness clings to his fingers as he brings the glass to your lips, your eye contact has you feeling lightheaded for reasons other than the lack of food in your system. His thumb rubs circles on the insides of your thigh as you sip diligently. His touch has you almost doubling over for more, your longing expands and takes space over every cell in your body.

You miss him more than you miss breathing in air.

“Thank you,” you finally reply as he places the now empty glass back on the table, he doesn’t say anything back and instead pushes the tray of food towards you “eat.” His tone is banal, he avoids the longing in your glance, yet this thumb remains in its place, spreading the warmth of something you know is counterfeit. It has your throat tightening.

“How did you make this?” you ask as you swirl your spoon around the bowl.

“I had to go grocery shopping. Why is your house so empty Y/N?” He’s not looking for an answer so you don’t give him one. Instead, you busy yourself with eating as silence settles in between you two.

Hyunjin keeps his gaze locked on the dark screen of your tv and you force yourself to find a domestic alleviation in the act. In the quietness that is nowhere near as comfortable as it once was, in the rigid lines of harshness on his face. It’s all a charade, you’re aware of it but you pretend that there’s still love in these walls, in the couch you both are sitting on and it’s not filled with disappointment as it witness the growing distant between you two.

“Good?” he asks when you set your half empty bowl back on the tray.

“mhm,” you murmur, your eyes studying the side of his face and the longer he refuses to look at you the deeper your agony settles into your soul, a remorse nestled into the bit of your stomach and you could see it all when your hands reaches for his slender fingers and his body tenses as if your bodies didn’t belong together.

The walls of your living room laugh in mockery when your fingers squeeze his, lucky enough to witness this pitiful parody of what was real once. What you killed. But you never got time for it, instead Hyunjin is somehow sitting next to you, filled with quiet resentment for himself and then for you and thirdly for this foolish thing we like to call love.

“I’m so sorry about everything Hyunjin.” you say, hardly audible.

“You should be feeling sorry for your body Y/N.”

“I don’t care about my body, any sort of emotion that runs through my body is for you. it’s because of you.”

“Why did you do it then? Why did you have to kill us so brutely?” when he looks at you, you feel your heart constricting in your chest, longing for comfort that only exists within his fingertips.

“I was stupid,” you admit through swallowing down the lump forming in the center of your throat “I was jealous, and it brought out the worst in me. I had never seen you with a girl before and I just- “you suck a deep breath in, the stupidity of your actions dawns on you the longer you try to explain.

Your eyes comb over his features, the anguish clouding his iris has you melting away in the blues of your rushed decisions.

“It killed me knowing you might have fallen for someone other than me.”

“So, you decided to punish someone innocent over the faults of our hearts?” you long for evidence of his adoring for you, searching the flickers of dark in his eyes for a missing piece that feels it has been snatched away from you. You’re disappointed when you can’t find anything, it’s blank.

Who knew a simple feeling could alter someone’s gaze this much.

“I fucked up, I know I did.” Your voice breaks with anxiety at the thought of losing him “at first it was just that but when I found out that her mom was my dad’s mistress it only got worse.”

Hyunjin lets out a breath of disbelief but doesn’t complain when your nails start digging into his palm, a pathetic claim to cling onto him.

“It felt like she kept taking everyone from me it was you first, then my dad and then my mom kept comparing me to her I just felt like I wasn’t enough, yet no one was feeling my pain.” A small whimper escapes your lips, one that is filled with enough despair to has him shutting his eyes and his teeth latching painfully around his lower lip, as if trying to prevent himself from saying anything.

“I was in so much pain I just wanted to hurt everyone else around me and specifically her. She was everything that I wanted to be. Everything that everyone wanted me to be, but I was nothing but a failure that longed for your love. I was too much of a coward to say it.” You take a deep breath in, your fingers tremble between his, and you feel like an ugly monster who taints everything it touches red with fiery and resentment, it flows from your fingertips.

You feel like nothing but a weakling destruction, an abandoned ground of all the people you could have become.

“I know it’s not right if I could go back and change it trust me I would. I hate myself for it every day, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror for what I did. I was punishing her for something she didn’t even do. I was filled with hatred and anger towards the world, and I took it out on her.”  

A winding coil is waiting to snap behind your eyes when Hyunjin frees his hands from you, a shaky exhale escapes and he stands up, you feel him slipping through your fingers, see the fragments of him leaving you once again. It has an unmistakable tightness pulling at your chest. Anxiety, a monster known to make an appearance simultaneity with your darkening thoughts. It snaps when a pregnant silence follows as Hyunjin paces relentlessly before you from left to right as if trying to make sense of your words.

Regret, a color you were so familiar with, has been painted in so many times but this darkening shade you’re drowning in right now doesn’t even compare to anything you’ve felt ever before. It something so much more. A colossal amount that has painful tears cascading down your cheeks in a silent plea.

“I wanted to call it off, but Yeosang didn’t want to. He started threatening me with telling you everything and back then i-I just wasn’t ready to relive the pain of what happened with Seungmin once again.” You wince, your hands shake as your heart grows heavier with every word, with every step of his “When i-I was ready everything came crashing down and it was too late. I wanted to tell you so much sooner.”

“You don’t get it do you?” he finally speaks, voice doused with raw and unfiltered betrayal. You’re only brought back to life to be killed once again “It’s the fact that you did it in the first place that breaks my heart Y/N.”

You open your mouth to respond but no words make appearance in your mind, it’s all blank and misplaced judgments “I don’t know when you became this person. This is not the person I fell in love with. I knew you had your flaws, but I thought you were changing, I thought you left it all behind,” His eyes are devoid of vibrancy as they stare you down, a manifestation of the sadness residing in his heart “I didn’t know what you were hiding in the dark was so much worse than I could ever imagine.”

“H-how do I make it better? How do I fix it?” Your legs hurt when you move to stand up before him, a throb in your body due to how weak you grew in few weeks of abandonment.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, looking away in yearning for a fleeting respite. It’s out of reach when your hand hesitates to touch him. Why does it pain him so much when your hands linger awkwardly between you two? As if you grew to be strangers in a few counted seconds.

“Please tell me how do I fix it.” You plead, voice hoarse as your tears run like an endless steam “I wish I could go back and never make that stupid bet. I wish I could go back and fight Seungmin properly-“

“Don’t bring him up.” His brows furrow and your heart sinks.

“I never wanted to sleep with him-“

“I know. I believe you.” He interrupts you again and you realize the darkness taking over his eyes, doused in pain, is not because of betrayal but rather unexpected. It’s the same entity that you know is etched all over your being too.

Regret.

“I never blamed you for anything that happened with Seungmin.” Your hand finally touches him, cups his cheek in lovingly manner like all the destined lovers are meant to hold each other, he leans into the soft skin of your palm in broken tenderness. A shaky fuck tumbles out of his lips. He hates how you manage to see through him without him uttering a single word. He hates how delicately you touch him, he hates how his heart is wounded because of you and yet bleeds with you, for you. How your sorrow has his anger disappearing into thin air as if it never existed. And he only aches for you, for all the pain you had to endure alone.

He hates that he can’t actually hate you.

“I couldn’t protect you.” He sounds shattered when he speaks, it shatters your soul with it.

“I’m sorry,” he says shakily, and, in that moment, you think you finally understand what’s it’s like to be absolutely broken, to feel pain run through your veins as if it’s your blood, as if it’s a part of you that won’t ever relent. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you and he comes with ease, your face disappearing into the junction of his neck and shoulder “it’s okay, there’s nothing you could have done. It’s not your fault Hyunjin.” You speak against it, and he shakes in your embrace.

It was such an odd situation, to comfort the boy you filled with despair. It has reality sinking into you at that moment, the fact that the broken pieces of your relationship are much smaller, much sharper than you anticipated and you’re not sure how to pick them up without any of you two bleeding to death. The damage you left, the scars of your past, the unshed tears and all the broken promises are evidence of how you two are incompatible with your love. And it’s excruciating.

You pull away far enough to look at him, his eyes glisten with sorrowful water and you cradle his cheeks, wiping at the few drops that managed to escape “it’s okay.” You murmur, unsure if you’re trying to comfort him or yourself.

“I don’t know if anything will ever be okay again. I don’t know if we will ever be okay.”

“If I fix me then will you love me again?”

“Don’t talk as if you’re a mere object and not human.” He scolds and you feel as if your heart is being carved out of your chest at his care for you despite how wrong you are, how everything is your fault “It only pains me when you talk about yourself like this. When you starve yourself as a way to punish yourself.”

“What should I do then? How do I end your misery? Please tell me.”

“Bring back the girl I fell in love with. The one with infectious smiles and the gleam of the moon in her eyes,” His words hang over you like a gloomy cloud.

“Will you able to forgive me then?” you ask, sad and small.

“I don’t know.” He answers truthfully, an answer you weren’t looking forward to, and it feels like an arrow has been shot through your heart “but if you’re trying then I’m willing to try too.”

Hyunjin leaves soon after, a mountain of unspoken words lingers between you two. Nothing like the secrets you had kept till now, a foreign void forms in your heart and a rather bigger weight burdens your shoulders shrouded in your relationship that’s falling apart. Hanging by a thread that you’re holding onto as if it’s your lifeline. And that’s why you stop Hyunjin by your door. Both of your cheeks flushed and eyes puffy.

“I think I was made for loving you,” your words spill like an explosion that you cannot hold back, enamored by how your soul intertwines even when you’re refusing to touch “Even if you think we seem hopeless right in this moment, and I am only ever wrong and confused. I might be a fool who does not know anything but all I know is I was made for loving you so this is my last promise, I will try my best to make everything better, to be better.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything back, there’s no right answer that he could muster up so instead he saves your words in his pocket, and you capture the look of his dreary eyes swimming with endless adoration for you in your mind.

You know it’s true, you love him without being good for anything else.

It’s not until a week later that you see Hyunjin again, right as the first snow of the new year falls. You welcome winter with a dull ache that has spread through your soul. A tempest of memories curl in the folds of frigid winds. It dances through your hair and through his when you see him right outside of your apartment complex. A thick dark blue scarf looped multiple times around his neck, remains of half-finished cigarettes at his feet gives away his building nerves as he waited for a glimpse of you.

“Did you really mean it when you said you want to be better?” When he looks at you, you envision fragments of summer in him. Mere centimeters separate you.

“I meant every word.” Your voice is as soft as the ray of sunshine slipping through the grey clouds.

“I don’t know if there’s gonna come a day where I’ve fully forgiven you. I don’t know if there’s a way for my heart not to throb painfully as it calls your name,” a pause, enough to have you holding your breath when his dark eyes flit across yours “but I think I want to be next to you when it happens.”

He closes the small space between you two and stands before you, looking down at you as if you were 16 again in the middle of your school hallway, your last book ended with bloodshed and deep scars but that never means there’s no room for healing and when Hyunjin extends his hand to you, a youthful smile taking place on his face you feel the truth bloom in you. You see fate rewrites itself into new pages, scribbles of poetry that won’t have to be filled with lies and fearful tears.

“No more secrets?”

“No more secrets.” You answer, with a similar smile.

Despite the bitter winter you feel the warmth of sun seeps into your being when you take his hand in yours. It’s as sweet as peaches and embraces you in overwhelming comfort. a peaceful buzz that settles through the center of your heart, a fresh new color, so bright and foreign but more than anything welcomed.

It’s hopeful and it screams stay, stay, stay.

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[baconseason]

Experiencing soul crushing gender dysphoria and the only character that’s distracting me and giving me gender envy is Pond Child AU Tord. Which is strange because usually I cling onto Edd for that but instead I chose the most wet cat greasy slop basement dweller of a character to want to look like.

[azsazz]

Lavender Haze

Rhysand x Rhysand's Sister's Best Friend/Virgin!Reader

Summary: Having a crush on your best friends older brother isn't ideal. Especially when he has one back.

Warnings: Flirting, sexual taunting and begging.

Word Count: 3,065

Belongs to the timeline and predates Clandestine Love

_________________________________________

“Where’s Ara?” you ask your dinner mate as Einar places a steaming dish before you. The savory scents of the herbs he used on the fresh meat fill your senses, and your mouth waters at its deliciousness. Vegetables swim in a thick cream sauce that looks all too delectable, and the mound of cut potatoes doused in flavor has your jaw tingling. You simply cannot wait to dig in, only able to keep yourself from diving straight into your dinner as the family cook replenishes your half drank glass of sparkling fae wine. “Thank you, Einar.”

The chef dips his head in response then spins on his heel, quickly leaving the room. A bite of guilt pinches your stomach as you watch the green-skinned, normally bright-eyed fae stalk back to the kitchen to prepare dessert. It’s not like Rhysand is that much like his father. While his personality and aura tend to lean to the more arrogant side, it’s usually attributed to the fact that he is a young, confident male, eager to bask in all of the indulgences son of the High Lord is offered.

Said male sita across from you, pinning you to your seat with searing violet eyes. His spine is rigid and his fingers are curled tightly around his utensils as he watches your gaze follow the chef scurrying from the room.

He wants to fire him, no matter how delicious his food is.

Rhysand doesn’t have a right to feel this way. He doesn’t like the rage that coils his stomach, that lights his bones on fire when your soft eyes meet those of any other male in the court. Ever since you’d worked up the courage to kiss him all those months ago, it had ignited something inside of him even he couldn’t seem to make sense of. He shouldn’t be feeling this conflicted over his little sister's best friend of all people, but even he couldn’t ignore your otherworldly beauty, the musical laughter he always ached to hear, feel those gorgeous eyes roaming down his body while you thought his attention was elsewhere. 

The following months after that fateful night had been spent in the Illyrian camps, avoiding you. He’d tried occupying his mind with training or drinking with Azriel and Cassian until he couldn’t remember what it felt like to have your lips pressed against his own, your breasts pressed against his chest, and your scent burrowing so deeply into his soul he might never forget it. 

You couldn’t be drowned by any female nor male he fell into bed with since. Rhys, as sick as it might be to admit it, had resorted to imagingin his partners were you when he couldn’t seem to get off. Horrible, he knows, but you’ve planted that seed and his feelings are an overgrown slew of vines, constricting his inner being.

And now you’re here, across from him. And he’s here, alone with you. And Ara is not here like she should be and his mother isn’t here to form a buffer and his father is away doing Mother knows what and Cassian and Azriel aren’t here to tell him how horrible this idea is, or how if he’d only fuck you it would get these feelings out of his system, at least, the former of the two would say.

Rhysand is in a dangerous situation right now.

He forces his body to relax, slumping back in his seat with the vanity only the prince of Night can convey. Masking his face into something a little more open—a little more nice—he stalls, cutting into the meat on his own plate. Blood spurts as he takes his knife to it, and Rhysand has to force himself from imagining it to be a certain chef's blood instead. “Mother whisked her into the city for dinner.”

“So it’s only you and I?” you blush, stabbing a potato with your fork. It has been so long since you’d last seen Rhysand, and it seems the few months he’s been away have made him even more handsome than you remember, even if his skin looks a little paler from the blistering winters in the mountains and the drink he hasn’t let up on since.

“It seems so,” Rhys answers, chewing.

“And no one else,” you murmur, almost breathless as your heart begins to race in your chest at the thought of what you and him could be getting into all alone, if he hadn’t decided to run from you. 

Rhysand quirks a brow, looking down the table as if looking for someone else, and replies, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Asshole,” under your breath, and Rhys fails to bite back his smirk. Both of you fall silent as you eat, only the sounds of your hammering heart and utensils filling the void in the luxurious dining room. You’re not sure how the family doesn't feel lonely like this, eating at the table built for an army. You can’t even hear Einar shuffling about in the kitchen, no clanging of pans or low curses if he creates something his perfectionist self doesn’t deem a ‘creation of the Gods.’

You can’t help but to glance at Rhysand, drinking in the sight of him. His straight nose, the curve of his cupid’s bow as he places a spoonful of vegetables and cream sauce in his mouth. His thick lashes are dark, so dark it looks like he’s let Ara around him with some of her kohl again. They’re long as well, brushing the apples of his cheeks when he looks down at his plate, and you’re envious of them.

Too long you’ve gone without seeing him. The most dramatic male you’ve ever set your sights on, running from you after you’d finally worked up the courage after months of pining to kiss him. It was after Ara had fallen asleep and you found yourself on the balcony, gazing up at the stars, his company warm and welcoming.

It had been everything to you then, the confidence you felt, the rush of adrenaline as you caught him off guard, the feel of his lips against yours, soft still, even if they were wind-chapped from the long flight. He hadn’t reacted, you hadn’t given him the time to, yanking yourself back just as quickly as you leaned in and running off to Araphel’s room, your mind screaming at you that it had been a horrible idea.

But you couldn’t ignore the emotions spilled between the both of you, the times where his hand had brushed yours or his touch lingered too long when he’d muse your hair, stroking the shell of your ear. You couldn’t ignore the heated looks Rhys shot you every time you spoke to another male, nor the way he always found an excuse to interrupt you, guiding you away from them with a large hand on the small of your back.

And maybe it was your silly little heart for wanting him. For crushing on your best friend's older brother who exudes confidence and can have any female in the court he wants. Any female on the continent, even.

The silence is damning, though, and you wish you could be how you were the night you’d kissed him, sanguine and bright with the idea that this could be your true love's first kiss. Of course, the fleeting press of his lips was enough to solidify many things for you, but you’d been unsure about Rhysand’s feelings on the matter, and by the time you’d found the courage to talk to him about what had happened, he’d already fled back to the mountains.

You’d kissed plenty of males since then, dragging Ara for nights out at Rita’s because Rhysand and his friends always raved about it. A part of you thought that he might walk in and see you in another male's arms, tear you away like the warrior-prince he is, but sadly, it hadn’t happened. 

And you have to say that you’re more than a little confused. He’d been blatantly glaring at Einar while the chef served your food. Had he heard about the kiss you shared with the young chef when Donan hadn’t allowed Araphel permission to go out one night and you spent it with the staff the High Lord kept around the house? It was all for a silly drinking game, but the green-skinned fae’s cheeks had been bright pink after the both of you stumbled back from the pantry, lips bruised and eyes shining bright with liquor. Maybe he had overheard some of the handmaiden's gossipping about it after all these weeks? Or maybe, the darkness always knows.

Now, the both of you are here, alone, staring at each other over the delectable meals prepared by the chef you’ve tasted once before. It hadn’t been anything like the peck you’d shared with Rhysand. In that millisecond of the brushing of your lips your world had shifted, body set alight with shooting stars and setting free the wild butterflies in your stomach. 

He has that glint in his eyes, the same one he always gets when he’s watching you, the one that heats your very core. And as you chew the potatoes in your mouth, you muster that confidence into yourself once more.

You will it into the marrow of your bones, rolling your shoulders as you prepare yourself to get exactly what you want. If there is no one here to interrupt, then the stage is set.

“Whoops,” you feign, allowing a drip of cream sauce to slip off the end of your utensil on the way to your mouth. It lands on the bare skin between the plunging fabric of your dress, and you catch Rhysand tracking the movement as you reach for your napkin to dab at your skin. “Spilled a little.”

Rhysnad hums, “You should be more careful, darling. Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours, now would you?”

“No,” you agree, ever the dream of poised elegance. You pop a vegetable into your mouth, chewing for a moment, before continuing. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my dress at all. But, if it’s meant to be, I can always have another one made.”

In that moment, you know you’ve got him. The stars in his violet eyes wink out as darkness settles in, pinning you to your chair. His look sends a shiver up your spine and you know that he is no longer hungry for the food plated before him.

Rhysand flares his wings a little and bites back a curse. For too long he’s been living at the Illyrian camps. There’s no one here he has to compete with for your attention, no one he needs to show off his wingspan to, though, by the way that your half-lidded eyes trace across the membranous skin of them, perhaps he’ll flare them wide when you’re beneath him.

It’s a line that he hasn’t crossed with you yet, one that he promised himself that he wouldn’t. You’re his little sister’s best friend for Mother’s sake, not just another female simpering after him because of his familial ties. You’re…much more than that, and he shouldn’t be thinking about crawling across this fucking table and licking that cream off of your chest and burying his head between your breasts.

“Meant to be,” he echoes, and you hum, tilting your head back with the motion. The exposed skin of your neck calls to him, even more so when you swipe a finger, capturing the sauce and popping it into your mouth to suck on. Your cheeks hollow exaggeratedly, and his cock strains painfully in his pants. He growls your name, a tenor of darkness that curls through your body like the icey patches of snow on the way into the city.

“What was that Rhys?” you ask, batting your eyelashes now. The meal in front of you is long forgotten, your hunger for this male insatiable. The way Rhysand makes you feel, despite only sharing a whisper of a kiss, well, you think you could be mates someday. “Did you need something?”

“I need you to stop doing that before I come over there and make you stop myself.”

You moan a little, legs falling wide under the table. “I think I might like that, though.” 

Rhysand’s nostrils flare as he drinks in the scent of your arousal, thick between your thighs.

“You’re supposed to be a Lady, darling. Who taught you to speak like that?” he purrs, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the table. You know that he’s only doing it to try and dispel the tension leaking from his body. You can scent it in the air, the raw, heady smell of him that threatens to send you right to your knees.

“You,” you moan in response. You can feel him creeping into your mind, watching. Waiting.

“And you always listen to your superiors, don’t you, darling?”

“Yes,” you hiss, squirming in your seat as those black claws of his rake gently across your mind. Your fingers curl around the arms of your chair, your spine arching at the soft caress. “Rhys, please…I need you to touch me.” 

It’s a simple request, one he’s always indulged you in.

In a moment he’s gone from his chair only to appear behind you, winnowing far faster than stalking around the edge of the table to reach your seat.

He looms over you like a touch of darkness crowding you in, and you revel in it. The hue of his eyes is a dangerous violet, set with lightning striking in the distance instead of stars. It lights you up, your breath turning faster, the beating of your heart thunderous in the silence of the dining room. 

You can see the war in his eyes when you tilt your head back, resting it on the back of your chair. You press your breasts out a little, and watch with rapt attention as his eyes flicker down the front of your dress before he rips them away, the line of his mouth tightening at your hidden tease of a smile.

In your head, late at night, you’ve touched him; a hand around his silky, long cock, mouth pressed to his desperately, too. He’s tasted your slick on his tongue, reveled in it, hardly able to hold himself back from crawling up your body and fucking you how he wanted.

But you’ve never had sex before, and as much as you want to, as much as you’ve tried, Rhysand has been holding back.

Maybe it’s because he’s nervous to cross that line with you. You’re his little sisters best friend for fucks sake, and he’s going to be High Lord someday. Sure, he’s slowly making his way through the camp girls, trying not to grunt your name when he fucks into them, because you’re never far from his mind. 

Maybe it’s because he’s scared, if his sister or father ever found out. Araphel might be happy for the both of you. It’s a thought he has less often than the opposite, if she’s upset that he’s stealing one of her only true friends, and he doesn’t want that. 

Maybe he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself back.

Your name is a growl on his lips. A warning, one you don’t have it in you to heed. So you go with your next best idea, taunting.

“I guess I’ll have to drag Ara down to the city when she gets back then,” you say with a sad sigh. You pick up your fork and force your eyes from Rhysand’s burning ones. You shrug a little, spearing vegetables with your fork. “Fuck whatever male I come across there.”

Rhysand is hardly able to hold himself back from baring his teeth. He won’t allow that, ever.

You can feel the tension roiling in his body as he stands at your back, his food long forgotten. You’re not faring much better with the ache pulsing between your legs and the dinner that’s turned to mush in your mouth. 

“I’ll turn any male that touches you to mist.”

“Are you planning on doing that to yourself, too?” you quirk a brow as you glance his way, faking your disinterest despite the way that your core goes molten at his words. 

Rhysands eyes darken in response, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

Your words are working, you can see it in the way that he holds himself back, body nearly shaking at every thought you’re planting in his mind. You know he’s on the verge of cracking, that he wants this just as badly as you do, so you continue.

“What if I told you that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. Would you fuck me then, Rhysand?” 

“What?” His voice takes on a dark tone, the stars winking out from his eyes.

“If I told you that chef Einar was the one to do it, to bend me over his worktop and fuck me, what would you say then, Rhys?” 

“I’d say you’re a liar. And that I’ll kill him either way.”

“If I spread my legs for him just like this,” you continue, leaning back in your seat and opening your thighs wide. His fingers ball into fists but he doesn’t move from his spot, still planted behind you, trying his best to ignore the way your scent hits him like a sword to the gut. “And let his hands roam down my body just like this—” You startle at the loud sound coming from the kitchen, pots falling to the floor in succession. It makes your hands that you’re dragging down your body falter, and before you can continue, your wrists are pinned in Rhysand’s harsh grip, his breath heavy against your throat.

“You should be very, very careful about what you’re going to say next, darling,” his growl sends your bones rattling, shivers wracking your spine. You wish it weren’t the harsh wood at your back but instead his warm body, holding you tight. 

“I want you to fuck me, Rhys,” you gasp, and it sounds like a desperate mewl. “I need you to fuck me.” 

Rhysand’s mouth is a whisper against your skin, a brand of night.

“If I’m going to fuck you, darling,” he purrs and your insides melt. “Everyone is going to know it.”

[emmyrosee]

suna and 11? CONGRATS EMMY!!!!

THANK YOU ANGEL FACE 🥹🩷

anonymous said 11. Suna and maybe u can tie it with ur recent post and possibly make them break up??? ❤️

11 with Suna… Argument 💔

There’s a deep rooted insecurity suna rintaro holds.

It’s not one he talks about often, nor do you bring it up, because it’s dumb, it’s a stupid little thing that you both know doesn’t make a difference in your relationship, yet Rintaro always finds himself harping and beating himself up over it.

Right now is no exception, as you stand across from him with your hands scrubbing your face, clearly exhausted by the fight.

“I don’t think of Osamu like that!”

“You sure had a hell of a time showing it!”

You had a crush on Osamu first.

Way back when rintaro wasn’t even into you, he couldn’t have known you from some random soul, you had feelings for osamu, but you never acted on them because you assumed he never liked you back- not to mention his insane fan girls. You kept your distance until you moved on; only to meet Rintaro in college, recognizing each other about three weeks in, where your feelings for him started to bloom.

You’d let it slip to him once when recounting high school memories how you fell hard for the dark haired twin, and while yes, it made rintaro tense up, you assured him it was over. You were done with him.

Yet every time you hang out with the group, Rintaro feels that same jealousy creep up his spine.

“God, when will it click for you that I love you!” You cry, desperate for him to hear you. “You! Only you! For five years Rintaro, it’s only ever been you!”

“Don’t act like you still don’t-“

“I DONT!” You bark. “I don’t! Whatever you’re about to say, I. Don’t. Because I do, with you!”

He feels sick to his stomach at this point, your sharp words to him only translating as a defense against his words, desperate to keep something hidden.

Not as a genuine frustration.

“I think you should go be with Osamu,” he snarls. “Since your so comfortable getting him drinks and putting your hands on him-“

“I wasn’t making out with the kid, I was patting his back after a joke!”

“-and maybe you should be with him since he’s just soo funny-“

“MAYBE I WILL!” You shriek.

The plates in the kitchen settle and the doors creak softly at the force of your yells, and your eyes glimmer with remorse but your face harbors exhaustion.

“…what?” He croaks.

“Maybe I should go be with literally anyone else,” you choke. “Since you think I’m flirting with anyone and everyone in the goddamned circle-“

“Wait- no, I just-“

“I don’t care what you do,” you whimper. “I’m sick of your jealousy. I’m sick of your hatred of my friendship with some kid who couldn’t give a fuck about me- you literally picked up the pieces of me he shattered, yet you still think there’s a chance I could love him?” You scoff, “you’re ridiculous.”

He sobers up as you throw your arms out in defeat, “I’m so… tired, of the accusations, Rintaro. I’ve given you five years of unconditional love and gratitude. And all you can boil me down to is someone who had a crush in high school?”

“I’m just so worried to lose you,” he says, voice breaking.

“Yeah? Well, you’ve lost me.” You take a step back and gnaw on your lip, “I’m going to go. Think long and thorough about this. But just know, I’ll always love you. Even if you’ve never trusted me.”

“No, no, no, please, don’t leave-“

“I’ll talk to you later…. Okay?”

He’s never going to hear from you again. This, he knows.

The door closes, and he wipes his tearful eyes with the back of his head, slipping out his phone to look at your happy smiling face again, one he took off the face of the earth with his jealousy.

There’s a black screen that faces back to him. It won’t turn on. He groans and hucks the thing across the room, hearing it clang somewhere far enough away.

He’ll deal with it in the morning. For now, he’s got some wallowing to plan out.

[foxcantswim]

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Wing-Animatronic]

(gif by me)

You are hopelessly in love with Vanessa, Bonnie is starting to get sick and tired of you not doing anything about it. Content: Pre-Relationship, Love/Crush Confessions, Soft!Vanessa, BESTBOI!BONNIE Warnings: N/A WC: 1,672

This fic is so self-indulgent. What I would give to hug Bonnie. I think my soul would actually be healed.

"You know what I mean right?"

Bonnie blinked extremely slowly as he simply looked at you.

"Of course you don't," you leaned back into your chair with a groan.

You had been venting to Bonnie for the past few hours of your shift now, it was becoming a nightly occurrence where he would keep you company in the office (whether he liked it or not...)

"All I'm saying is. She's very attractive and way out of my league."

You were certain Bonnie was trying his hardest to roll his eyes as best he could.

"I'm right, though!" you tried to reason. All Bonnie did was give you a thumbs down in response.

You've had this huge crush (well, it was becoming much more than just a crush nowadays) on a certain blonde police officer you had met on your first night shift a couple months back. She had helped you get a grip on the tasks on your shifts and she had been more than happy to accompany you every other night whenever her own shifts allowed her. She'd always been extremely understandable whenever you opened up to her, she never failed to make you laugh with her stupid dad jokes and she was just overall incredible to be around. The silly playful flirting she had clearly done with you in the past was always welcome, but a part of you wasn't sure whether she meant for the flirtations to be romantic or if they were just jokes.

"You're not being very helpful right now, Bonnie."

He cocked is head at you as if to say 'Are you serious?'

"Come on! How do I successfully win Vanessa's heart?"

Of course he didn't reply.

"You know, if anyone were to walk in and see me talking to you like this they would think I was crazy."

As the hours went on you continued to moan and complain about how you'd never be able to impress Vanessa. About how someone like that could never love someone like you. You were effectively breaking your own heart and putting yourself down. Your hand had been fiddling with a pen for the past couple hours, scribbling various hearts on the back of some paperwork. The name 'Vanessa' was in the middle of said hearts.

You were acting like a love sick teenager with their first crush. You shook your head to snap yourself out of it.

Bonnie took a step away, intending to leave the room.

"Hey! Don't leave me alone when I'm stressed!" you whined.

Bonnie stayed.

Why couldn't it have been Freddy, Chica or Foxy? Why him? Why did he have to listen to all this?

The first few nights he thought it was somewhat interesting and cute to hear you talk about your feelings towards Vanessa. But that interest quickly turned into annoyance after about a week. He liked Vanessa. And he liked you. So of course he wanted to help you in any way he could.

The alarm on your watch finally rang. 6am.

You let out a sigh of relief, moving to turn the monitors off.

"Well... Thanks, Bon. I appreciate you listening. I promise I'll make a move on her. Maybe..." you muttered the last part, clearly not trusting yourself.

You stood up from the desk and grabbed your jacket and keys. You left the office and waved towards the other animatronics before you finally exited the pizzeria.

Bonnie had stayed back in the office, simply waiting for you to leave. His eyes soon locked onto the desk... More specifically the old paperwork on the desk you had left.

The following night, Vanessa had showed up just as you started your shift. She had followed you into the pizzeria, greeting the animatronics as she did.

"I told you to clean up that mess, Y/N!" Vanessa rolled her eyes as she headed over to a nearby closet to grab a mop. She had wanted you to clean up the mess that Chica and Foxy had made last night. They had knocked over a couple glasses of drinks as they ran throughout the pizzeria.

You shrugged, "I'm lucky you love me enough to clean it up for me," you smirked before walking off towards the office, intending to turn the monitors on.

Vanessa rolled her eyes to herself, however a soft smile appeared on her face at your words. She found the mop before turning back towards the mess, however she wasn't expecting to bump into something.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Sorry, Bonnie. Didn't see you there."

He blinked at her before raising a hand.

Vanessa look down at his outstretched hand, she raised an eyebrow in confusion.

In Bonnie's palm there was a piece of paper. Vanessa cautiously eyed it. In the centre of the page there was a messily scribbled heart with the name 'Vanessa' right in the centre.

She let out a quiet laugh, "Aw, thanks. I love you too, big guy," she patted his arm in thanks. She took the mop and headed over towards the mess. She didn't quite see when Bonnie started to shake his head in disagreement. He desperately wanted to tell her that it was in fact you who had drawn that heart. Not him.

The absolute annoyance and stress he was feeling right now...

Bonnie wasted no time in trudging towards the office.

"Hey, Bonnie," you greeted him with a smile as he entered.

He grabbed your arm, quite forcefully, and began to pull you towards the door.

"What's gotten into you?" you asked in confusion.

His other hand moved towards your face, giving you a clear view of a very familiar piece of paper.

"You want me to do that now?!"

He nodded slightly.

"I-I can't Bonnie. It's not the right time. She doesn't like me the same way I like her," you looked down in defeat.

He nodded again, trying to encourage you.

Vanessa cleared her throat, trying to get yours and Bonnie's attention.

You both looked towards the doorway.

"Everything all right in here?" she said, a slight smile in her face at the strange scene she was looking at. She noticed Bonnie holding up the paper directly in front of your face... Your face which was now slowly being covered by a bright blush.

The cogs in the blonde's brain were turning as she desperately tried to work out what was going on.

"Yep!" you squeaked, "Perfectly normal interaction we are having right now," you tried to pull away from Bonnie's strong grip.

Bonnie shook his head frantically. He raised his hand towards Vanessa, showing her the piece of paper again.

"Y-Yeah. You already showed me that buddy-"

He stomped his foot, narrowing his eyes. He then brought the paper back towards you and then back in Vanessa's direction. Over and over, trying to convey what he was meaning.

"Shut up right now, Bonnie," you warned him.

Vanessa felt her mouth go dry as a blush of her own covered her cheeks.

"Y/N..." her voice was soft, immediately making your heartbeat increase, "I don't want to jump to any conclusions here but... Is Bonnie trying to say that you drew that? Not him?"

Great. Now Vanessa was going to think you were an idiot. An idiot who acted like a lovesick obsessed puppy.

"It's stupid, Nessy," you muttered, finally ripping your arm away from Bonnie's grasp. You looked away out of embarrassment before heading over to your chair and plopping down in it.

Vanessa sighed before stepping closer to Bonnie, his hand slowly outstretched towards her. She grabbed the paper and couldn't help but smile down it at it.

"Thanks, buddy," she said before moving towards you.

Bonnie nodded before slowly exiting the room.

"Y/N," she said, turned your chair to face her, "It's not stupid."

"Yes it is," you groaned, hiding your face in your hands, "Can we just forget about this and-"

She giggled, placing the paper on the desk, "It's not stupid. It's cute. It's cute that you have a crush."

"It's so embarrassing, Vanessa," you felt slightly hurt by her mocking you.

Rolling her eyes, Vanessa picked up a pen, "Would it make you feel better if I did the same thing?"

You raised an eyebrow at her, curious as to what she meant. That's when she reached for the paper, and drew her own heart underneath the one you had drawn... Your name was soon in the centre of it.

"You gettin' the picture yet?" she said, hoping you would understand that yes... the feelings were definitely mutual.

You weren't entirely sure on what to say, you simply stared at the paper on the desk.

Vanessa threw the pen down, before cocking her head towards you, "So yes or no?"

"Y-Yes or no?" you questioned.

"How about you let me take you on a date the next time you're off shift?"

This was a dream. It had to be. There was no way this beautiful woman was asking you out on a date right now.

"Need me to repeat myself-?"

"No!" you exclaimed, "I-I mean yes, I mean-"

Vanessa laughed again, "Cute," she muttered before leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek, "I guess I'll be seeing you at the end of the week."

You froze in your chair at the contact.

"Y-Yeah. I'll see you at the end of the week."

Gods, that day could not come soon enough.

The next night, you had hugged Bonnie tightly. His huge hands had patted you on the back in comfort.

He strutted around the pizzeria, gloating at the fact that he was the best wing-animatronic to ever exist. At the end of the day, he was thankful that you confided and vented to him.

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp ; @emiliaisdead ; @natashas-whore

[jxsterr]

i just might not be in the right circles but i don’t think we realise just how fucked up puppet zelda was for link to have to encounter. like the one thing that stuck out to me SPECIFICALLY was the crisis at hyrule castle questline that has link hopelessly run around after something that looks like zelda and sounds enough like her but you know there’s something deeply wrong. it was enough to disturb me when i played through it, just how close her voice was to being correct but being too solemn, being just a little too wispy, too repetitive. there’s so many things about the way she speaks that’s only a little bit off, something that a man like link, blinded and delusional by grief, would miss. he’d know deep down in his gut something is wrong, it sounds so much like her but nothing like her at the same time. every time she beckons for him his chest tightens and he feels sick and he doesn’t know why, but he does deep down. he knows this isn’t her, can’t be her, or that if it is something is deeply wrong and both outcomes are less than desirable. it’s so fucked up because realistically he isn’t going to know if he’s ever going to see her again. for all he knows she could remain wandering the putrid soils of the depths for the rest of time, but here her corpse is, being paraded around as if she truly was zelda when she’s nothing but an imposter in the skin of his lover.

so he runs and runs and fights tooth and nail for her and continuously gets close enough to just about touch her but then she disappears and almost taunts him, tells him she’s waiting and he’s growing frustrated because goddess why won’t you just stay put and let me come to you?? i’m coming, i’m trying but you keep running from me. please stop running from me. his mind is begging, pleading for her, screaming i need you i need you like a lost child because he is without her. he’s lost and a shell of the man he used to be, she is his other half and without her he’s downright nonfunctional. and despite the heartbreak of her constantly disappearing he still keeps trying, keeps following her and grows more and more desperate because he’s so close and now they’re in the sanctum and she’s stopped and maybe this is his chance so he takes a step forward and she’s doing it again. she’s taunting him, dancing around him while all he can do is turn around aimlessly in an attempt to follow her. but even then he doesn’t stop for a moment to think if this is zelda, what she’s doing is cruel because he’s far too hung up on the possibility of her being with him again he doesn’t even stop to get upset at her, doesn’t question why she’s torturing him and keeps his focus on getting to her. it’s things like this that show you why zelda has so much trust that he will be able to defeat ganondorf because he’s never stopped chasing after her and saving the world for her and he never will. she could fall and he would catch her, she could die and he would save her, she could be a husk of who she once was and he would still love her. it’s undying loyalty, unwavering love and determination to make sure she’s okay because to him, zelda is everything.

but then she stops and gets so close he could walk over there and hold her again but it’s a lie. it all was. it’s nothing short of desvastating because even though he knew something was awry it still hurts to be proven right. to have scars so painfully ripped open again knowing that he’s back to square one. the emotional turmoil that that must have put him through had to have been insane, if not soul crushing. he’d be inconsolable, sobbing and cursing the very ground ganondorf stood upon to the point where the sages would have to escort him out of the sanctum only for him to fight them because they’re the only people he can take anything out on right now. but it’s not fair because it’s not their fault, and the way that riju hushes him and does her best to speak soothingly while sidon rubs his back makes him feel all the more guilty. so they all stay there, tulin and yunobo on high alert while link is sat on the ground, knees to his chest and weeping because he was so close. he cries and cries until his throat gives out and he’s dehydrated, until sidon has to scoop him up and take him back to lookout landing and he can’t even bear to tell purah what happened but she already knows. nothing breaks through that tough exterior but the dangled hope of zelda’s return being ripped from him. none of the sages want to leave him in this state, so they camp out in lookout landing. tulin does his best to chatter on about all the cool things he’s been doing to stop link from falling completely numb and shutting everything off and it does kind of work, link cracks the slightest of smiles when tulin tells him how he took out an entire monster hideout by himself. he’s lost his world but maybe he can figure out how to keep fighting for her with friends by his side. he’ll just have to see.

[midnightbluebells03]

Good luck babe!

CW - Owen mention, fingering (R receiving), oral (R receiving), hair pulling (A receiving)

Reader is fem, described as wearing a dress and heels.

WC - about 3000

No outbreak

Leave me requests so I can get out my writers block pls and thx xo

If Abby Anderson wasn't in denial of her sexuality, there's a chance you two could've been real. You got along like a house on fire, practically a perfect match. But the mix of comphet, her on and off again relationship of Owen and her crippling fear of being vunrable has left you two like this. Having not talked in just over a month, not a word since your argument about the fact she had been using you as an experiment without considering how you felt. And how did you feel?

Crushed.

Maybe you should know better. But yet again it's a Friday night, your other hook ups weren't out tonight and who else but Abby fucking Anderson was giving you eyes from across the room. Leaning against the bar with a tight black wife beater that makes you drool and matching cargos.

It's the first time you'd seen each other since you screamed in her face and called her selfish. And yet the butterflies in your stomach were boardering on a stampede. Her eyes scanning your body up and down while her hand stays clutching her beer bottle. So tight you're almost worried it'll smash in her unforgiving grasp.

Against your better judgement you decide to ignore the angel on your shoulder, also known as your best friend Ellie. Chugging back your drink and handing her the glass. Starting to make your way over to Abby.

Ellie rolls her eyes and shouts after you. Hardly breaking through the noise. "Don't come crying to me when she breaks your heart again!"

"Cmon Els, it's just some fun" you call back before pushing your way through the crowed dance floor and coming out at the other side. Looking up at those baby blue eyes that make a rush of emotions flow through you. You should be mad at her, should cuss her out again for using you. But tonight, you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

You just needed her again.

"Can I get you a drink?" Her normally confident voice has a slight wavier to it. It makes a slight smirk spread across your lips as you take the beer from her hand. Taking a large drink before your nose scrunches up at the taste. You were more of a spirits girl, a cocktail if you felt fancy.

"So no Owen tonight?" The venom in your voice is clear. There's not a soul in Jackson you wanted to punch more than him. The whole reason Abby was so unsure of herself in the first place. The way he managed to weasel his way back into her life time and time again. But yet you couldn't hate Abby for doing the same thing to you.

"He's back with Mel...shes pregnant." You give her a sympathetic look before handing her back the bottle. "I don't wanna talk about it" she mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear over the thumping music. She finishes it off before placing it on the bar counter behind her.

"How about we don't talk at all then?" You say before she can even turn back around. Watching as her movements stiffen, and she slowly faces you again. Cheeks flushed that shade of pink you could never be sick of. "Your place is close, Ellie's gonna meet with Dina soooo". Your sentence trails off, the suggestion in your voice clear.

The mention of your best friend makes her eyes widen. Looking around the room to try and spot her. "Ellies here?". There's a slight fear in her voice, something that makes you roll your eyes and scoff.

"Oh calm your tits Anderson you could literally kill her, I don't know why you're you're scared".

"Um let me think" she says sarcastically before looking down at you. "The psycho bitch keyed my car". You fight back the giggle that wants to escape your lips. After days of you crying over your ruined situationship Ellie took it into her own hands. And while you told her it was a stupid idea, you couldn't help but hug her and say thank you.

"Can't prove that" you shrug, looking down at your feet a little nervously. Scuffing your heels off the ground. "Look if you dont-"

"I do" she interrupts, her hand now resting onto your exposed arm. You look back into her eyes. Taking a deep breath and accepting that this was going to hurt tomorrow, but it was worth it. Since even just this little touch was making your skin feel like it's on fire.

"Say it." Your voice is stern, watching as Abby bites her lip softly. Leaning down to whisper into your ear.

"I...I want to fuck you"

Your hand comes up to hers, interlocking your fingers and leading her out. "Cmon then" the judgmental gaze coming from Ellie catches your attention before you reach the door. So you wave over and mouth 'I'll call you' while making a phone with your hand. As soon as you're out the warmth of the bar and in the unforgivng chill of the night, a shiver runs up your shine. "Fuck it's cold!" You squeal slightly.

Abby chuckles, looking around to make sure no one can see you two before her arm wraps around your shoulder. "Wouldn't be cold if you wore real clothes." The playfully dig at your revealing dress makes you push her away. With a fake gasp you point a finger into her defined arm.

"Don't slut shame me Anderson" you giggle softly before returning to her side looking up at her. Taking in the way the streetlamp lights bounce off her features. The way her hair flowed in the slight breeze, it was down for once tucked neatly behind her ears. "Besides I was trying to get fucked not stay warm" The slight look of hurt that flashes across her face makes you raise an eyebrow. "What? You jealous?"

"No" she protests, but they way she won't look at you is telling. Before you can question her again, she points towards the door to her apartment complex. Leading you over before punching in her code and opening the door for you. "Cmon before you get hypothermia"

You walk in and wait for her to be back beside you before you both continue up the stairs. "I thought you were meant to be a super smart med student, it's not cold enough for hypothermia". You're trying to lighten up the mood by teasing her lightly. Remembering the time you were convinced you had hypothermia because the heating in her apartment had gone out while you were over. Her door comes into view, and you listen to her dig the key out from her pocket.

"Yeah yeah, just get inside" Abby rolls her eyes while holding the door open for you again. Maybe it would be easier to hate her if she wasn't so kind, if she wasn't so pretty, if she didn't know you so well. The door shuts behind you as you take off your heels. When you turn Abby is just standing there. Fidgeting with her fingers and avoiding eye contact. "Look um...I- I'm sorry-"

"Save it Abby" you inturput, knowing that it would be nothing productive. It would be the say sorry she gave you atleast five times before you blocked her number. "I don't want an apology I want to cum" Abby steps towards you slowly, your hands moving up to her chest. She quickly takes off her boots before straightening back up.

"Yes ma'am" you giggle softly as her hands wrap around your waist and lift you up. Forcing your legs to wrap around her waist as she carries you to the bedroom. Taking your purse and putting it onto her nightstand before gently placing you down onto her navy blue sheets. Moving so she's looming over you. Her calloused hand running up your outer thigh, inching under the thin fabric of your dress as her lips trail down your jaw to your neck. Sucking a purple mark right in your pulse point that has you gripping for her hair.

"Fuck" you moan softly, feeling her smirk into your skin. You sit up inpatiently, pushing her back by her chest as you fumbling with the zipper on your dress. Huffing when you can't reach it.

"Desperate much?" Abby teases before reaching around and pulling it down for you. Helping to pull the fabric off before throwing it onto the floor. Letting her see the matching lingerie you had picked out for the night. "You really were trying to get fucked huh?"

"Yeah" you swallow hard as her eyes scan over you slowly. "You like it?" The truth was you had bought it for her, baby blue lace that matched her eyes. But she called off your little situatuonship before you got to show her.

Abby reaches her hand out for your cheek, pulling you in. This was new. She'd never been one for kissing during. You guys had made out maybe a hand full of times. Her lips touch yours, and you just melt into her. Arms drapping around her shoulders as she pushes you backwards. Her hand running up from your thigh to your chest. Palming your breast through the barley there fabric. When you moan softly she takes the chance to push her tongue past your lips. Deepening the kiss as your nails start to big into the skin of her upper back. When she finally pulls away slightly, the thin string of saliva still joining you together makes your stomach tighten.

"Abs" you whine softly, arching your back so she can slip her hands around and undo the clasp of your bra. Adding it to the floor alongside your dress.

She kisses you quickly "I love it". Abby mumbles before restarting her trail down your body. From your jaw to your neck, ending at your breast when she takes a nipple in her mouth. Swirling her tounge around the hardened bud as you arch into her. Moaning softly as your eyes flutter shut. Fuck you missed this. The way she made you come undone. Every touch so purposeful.

And God knows if she'd ever let you touch her you'd be the same.

The feeling of her fingers brushing over your clit through your panties makes you gasp. Slightly embrassed by the fact Abby can definitely feel the wetness seeping through the fabric.

"Stop- stop teasing me Abs" you plead as her mouth detaches from your nipple.

"Cmon pretty girl you clearly like it" she teases, rubbing your soaked panties. "What do you want?" You just look at her and bite your lip. Eyes darting down to her fingers but she tsks while shaking her head. "Say it" your own words repeated back to you. Because as much as Abby was unsure of herself when it came to you in public. In the comfort of her own four walls, she's as confident as ever.

"Fuck me" you say, the shake in your voice making Abby smirk. You clear your throat before speaking clearly. "Please Abby fuck me". Her fingers hook onto your panties as she moves back. Slowly peeling them off you and adding them to the pile. You sit up and tug at her shirt. Hoping she'll be feeling generous.

"Baby-"

"Please Abs" you cut her off, bringing your hands up to cup her cheeks gently. "I- I won't touch you, I know the rules by now just...wanna see you" she presses a hand to yours before nodding. Pulling back to grab them hem of her shirt. Slowly pulling it up and over her head.

When you started this situationship you asked her why she didn't like being naked. Why she never asked for anything in return. And the tough girl you'd known just looked at you softly and said. 'I just...I don't think I look good'. You left it at that, but you couldn't help the pity you felt for her. Because the truth was Abby was stunning, maybe the most gorgeous girl you'd ever seen. But there was clearly a voice in her head, who you could only assumed was Owen, telling her otherwise.

When her shirt hits the ground your eyes wander over her body, taking in her black sports bra and her washboard abs like you're obsessed with. "You're so pretty." You don't even realise you've said anything until she blushes softly. As Abby leans beck over you, you reach up and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear gently. Just holding her for a second. God, you aren't drunk enough for this. A wave of feelings washing over you like a tsunami.

"What do you want baby?" Abbys voice breaks through your haze. "I've got the str-"

"Fingers" you inturput, just desperate to feel her. Just her.

"You don't usually want fingers" she teases "that's normally your warm up" Abby slowly moves her hands up your inner thighs, spreading your legs so she can look at your dripping pussy. "Fuck...you're soaked"

"Mhmm" you gasp her her fingers make contact with your clit. Making your hips jump slightly in a way that makes Abby chuckle. "You drive me crazy Abs"

She starts to move in slow, steady circles around your sensitive bud. Working soft gasps and moans from your lips as she kisses up your thighs. "Wanna taste you" she mumbles into your skin. Sure, you heard it but she didn't need to know that. So you snake your hand into her blonde locks at give her a gentle tug.

"What was that?" The fake innocence in your voice almost makes you want to laugh.

Abby looks away from you and goes to say it again so you place your hand on her jaw. Forcing her to keep eye contact. "I want to taste you" you raise an eyebrow, waiting on more. "Please?" The way her voice trembles slightly is the biggest ego boost. Working such a strong, confident woman to a mess like this is better than any drink you could've bought at the bar.

As soon as you nod your head and release her jaw, Abby wastes no time. Kissing down your stomach before her lips meet your clit. She gives you one fat lick from your hole to clit, her arms wrapping around your thighs to bring your legs over her shoulders. Abby's grip is so tight even if you wanted to move you'd stand no chance so instead you throw your head back into the pillow. Moaning shamlessly as her tounge works around your clit.

The pleasure makes a warmth spread across your body, your hand tangled in her hair as you hold her close to you. Trying to grind your hips into her but stopped by her hands pinning you down. You're almost convinced there's going to be bruises there tomorrow. "A- Abby" You whine, pleading for more.

She pulls back slightly, looking up at you with your wetness dripping down her chin. "Hmm?"

"Fingers please" your hand squeezes over her own. "Please Abby I'm so close"

Humming softly, she loosens her grip of her right hand. Slowly tracing over your skin until she reaches your mouth. You don't need to be told. Parting your lips, you let her push in. Sucking while keeping eyecontact. When she pulls them out you whine at the lose but it doesn't last long. As they slip into your hole your eyes roll back. "Fuck you're so wet" Abby gasps softly. Once you take her down to the knuckles she let's you adjust. "You good?"

"Mhm" you moans softly "move Abs please?". She doesn't need to be told twice, her fingers slowly starting to pump in and out of you as her mouth moves back to your clit. You can't help but clentch around her as she works you to your peak. Her neighbours must hate her, or really they must hate you. The way your loud moans echo throughout the room as she gets you closer and closer. You grip the sheets beneath you, screwing your eyes shut as your back arches. Orgasm washing over you while all you can do is chant her name over and over and over again. Completely lost in the pleasure.

Abby's pace slows after your finish over her fingers. Only pulling out once your breathing starts to steady and you open your eyes again. She moves up next to you, slumping down as your arms stay pressed together. The sudden silence hanging thick in the air. Uncomfortable, tense. But you break it.

"Are you gonna accept you like women yet?" You ask quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

"I don't" you don't wait for her to continue, instead you move yourself off the bed to start pulling on your underwear. You've been here so many times you just make your way to her closet, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a tshirt that's going to drown you. Planning on adding them to your small collection if her clothes. Even if they had all been shoved to the back of your closet. Abby sits up, stammer out some kind of explanation as you don't look at her. "I- I mean I do, but you know that this is"

"Mhm" you reply, the agitation clear in your tone. You quickly fix your hair to the best of your ability before picking up your dress and pulling out your phone from your purse. Slinging the bag over your arm as you request an Uber.

Abby just looks at you, nervously playing with the end of her hair. "I- its just the way I am-"

You inturput her with a sigh, finally looking at her with a slight pity. "It's not just gonna go away, but its your life Abby if you wanna be misrable and act like you dont like women thats your call" your app pings letting you know the ubers already here and you're silently thankful. Because the familiar feeling of falling for Abby is creeping back into you. "Good luck, babe" you say softly before heading out. Glancing down at your heels at the door with a groan. Reluctantly slipping them on before hurrying down to the Uber.

Maybe one day she'll change.

[adoregojo]

↬ two paths 一 ⦁ nagi.s, reo.m

▶︎ sooooooooooooo... this is some rotting dabble i abandoned, and since Im kind of desperate for any glimpse of motivation, i finished it. and surprise, surprise! its a reo and nagi fic lmaolmao.

▶︎ summary: reo have had a crush on you for a good long two years, and when it's the time to word his love to you, but a obstruct of your part says otherwise. ▶︎ context: nagi is your childhood friend, jealousy, idk if this counts as a love triangle? it's more like your a brick head, some angst (ofc) kind of a plottwist !!gn reader!!

"i like you, I've liked you ever since you stepped into my world, i like everything about you, your smile, your eyes, your gentle hands, your laugh, and most of all your soul that kept me hostage. and i-"

the hang up sound cut him off.

silence fell upon the other side of the phone, only the stillness of the disconnected tone nudging him back to reality. his hold on the phone was a robust one, so stout to the point of a crack to echo. the compound of bitterness, remorse, frustration, all were hefty on the little pinning heart of his.

and with that, you rejected reo, without even saying a word.

and the next days were nothing but a grievous duration, to him the most. as much as reo didn't want to see you for a while, there was no escaping you when you were in the same school, classroom, 一hell, even club. you were in every corner and every ditch, and he'll be a dead lier if he said that your appearance alone wouldn't tiptoe on his heartstrings. reo can stay still ever so firmly and yet you'd still be able to prod him out of his ground as convenient.

reo wanted to be mad at you, to hate you even, but he couldn't, he sincerely couldn't. even when the strain was tense, unbearable, but somehow it also felt pitifully suffocated, graciously. it was you after all, where he felt like a fragile creature under your spell, gosh一 you had reo warped around your finger with cement.

nevertheless, what drove him to the edge was how you operated it. while reo handled it by immersing himself in two blankets and eat ice cream to pacified him to crying himself to sleep. however, you on the other hand was having the time of your life. greeting him good morning to saying goodbyes, even asking him how his day went, did his confession meant that little to you?

reo wondered if you bat an eye, you just denied him after all, but some acknowledgment would've been great. or at least have a talk about it. but instead you acted like it never even happened. the idea of you skipping over his feelings made him sick to his core, it sounded so ill-suited, you above all if not the most considerate, thoughtful person he'd ever met. that's how reo fell for you in the first place.

he wasn't gonna apologies for being selfish, he wanted you to himself. reo kept all his feelings for you bottled up for a good old two years, and he just cannot bare with the fear of someone else stealing you anymore 一something that kept him on trails of restless nights一

maybe that's what herd him away from you, the decedent between the two grew by each day. yet reo loved you too much to live with the consequences of his actions, he can't even look at you without screaming 'why don't you care as much as i do', your sudden unfamiliarity stings him slowly and most of all painfully.

for you to blow him away like a dust that burdens your clothes felt it was caused by a clone, or did he just never knew you like he thought he did?

it ached to see you asking him if he's okay, if you did something wrong to drive him away. and goddamn it hurts seeing you like this, he would rather bang his head to the wall repeatedly than see that anguished expression ever again, and worst of all, reo was the reason for it.

you were heavy on his mind 一as if you weren't already一 the recollection of you standing with your sweaty palms rubbing against each other, a bad habit you do when you get uneasy, he really fucked up to the point where you have became a nervous wreck in his presence. your utter was light, questioning if he even wanted to be your 'friend' anymore.

you weren't the one to blame, reo was the one who stopped talking to you, stopped sitting with you for lunch, he even withdrew the club you two shared 一he didn't even have a liking for it, just joined because you were there一 all that and you still tugged on the last tie of faith reo would walk back into your life with open arms.

but reo didn't want to be your 'friend', not anymore. he wanted to be the one to protect you, to understand you, he wanted to be your man, your other half more anything, for him to be your everything just like you are his. you can't just make heaven a living place on earth then walk away when he was on knees for you.

he left you at halt, saying that he needed some time. you never knew time for what because he walked away before letting you word anything out. so now, his hands buried deep in his pockets, he felt heavy, mind and heart on a race track. he felt awful, the image of you standing in confusion, lost on what to do will hunt him to his grave. he tried running his fingers throughout his violet lockes, he was petty, selfish, and reo knew he could've worded it better instead of this.

from the corner of his eye, he could spot a bunch of flowers fluttering under the rush of air, hit by the sunlight to outshine any other plants besides. he could've think of how beautiful they looked, but no, the first thing that popped out his mind was the image of how bliss you'll be seeing them flourish just the way you liked it.

reo contemplating his actions, the pure, straightforward out of his heart gates confession and how far it had driven him. how beyond it had tossed what you two had. something blended with bittersweetness squeezed within his chest, envisioning of your smile made it a challenge to breathe.

so he keeps on strolling, trying to straighten himself until a familiar tall white headed form comes to his view. ranking ahead of a vending machine, nagi was too busy searching for what it appears to be a coin to even notice reo.

nagi was your friend, the one who watched the two of you downfall in silence. he didn't say a thing about it, didn't get involved and much rather concentrate on his phone-games. but there was something else, nagi have been your friend for what reo have been told since childhood. it was something anyone can figure out in the first glance, nagi doesn't leave your side for what it seems like eternally, he remained as your sidekick for decades. he witnessed all your phases, your growth. and he wasn't planning on departure his spot. it was a rare sight to see nagi not glued to your side, did the sky spare him? did his desperation reaches the empyrean?

"hey," reo announced his presence, nagi's bored eyes soaring over him. so the purple head flipped a coin to his direction, nagi tamed it halfway, staring at the single coin then back at his friend. "need another one." he uttered flatly as ever, so reo push out a sigh as he tossed him another one. the snowy head mummers a low thanks.

"listen, i need to tell you something." reo enunciates after a moment of hesitation, caressing the back of his neck as his lilac hues kept on swirling around. his friend just humming in acknowledgment, supporting his chin with his hand while still examining over the endless optionals of drinks.

"it's about yn."

nagi rattled momentarily, your name was like a cold water on his senses.

well, that was easy. reo thought. "i did something a few weeks ago, and i think i fucked up everything." he says, undertone. as if he was admitting an unforgivable crime.

"what did you do?" there was something off about nagi's tone, his grip on the coins was merciless. but his face still seemed boarded, nonchalantly but oddly firmed for some reason.

"i kind of admitted my feelings to them..."

nagi's daze expression shattered in an instant, not anything crazy, but his eyes grew obscure, casing over reo like a giant blacked cloud.

for nagi to carry that kind of aura was eccentric, that face would only arise every time an unnamed got a little too close to you. at that time, reo convinced himself that he was imagining that, because nagi out of all people stood his ground when it comes to dating, he'd always say the same thing 'dating sounds like a hassle'. and sometimes something wild like 'don't need someone else around, I already have yn.' reo wasn't a backstabber, he only confessed to you because he lived under the roof that his friend wasn't even able to handle anything intrigued with romance.

"i just, been liking them for ages. and i found the strength to finally say it to them, they-"

"hung up on you." the snowy head finished his line, which made reo eyes widen a bit.

he shifted awkwardly, "haha, did they tell you? how embarrassing.." he tried laughing it off, trying to avoid nagi's gaze for his sake.

"they didn't." nagi spoke quickly, voice strained than usual.

"oh? so how did you?.."

"because i did it. i was the one who hanged up."

there was a moment of lull, where not even the waves of wind could sooth over the tension. reo stood still, waiting for nagi to stick out his tongue playfully and shout 'gotcha!', praying for whoever might've fell upon to this to be a sick prank.

"you what?" he doesn't even realize he spoke before the words had already slipped.

nagi sigh tiredly, his fingers still at halt to press the numbers of his wanted drink, he didn't like focusing on two thing at the same time. "i thought you'd figure it out already. man, do i have to explain myself now? what a hassle." he let out softly.

"nagi, you-"

reo doesn't get get the chance to speak, to think, before nagi cut him off swiftly handling the conversation, like he knew this was coming. "listen, reo. i like being your friend, but i can't let you have yn." his words kept hurtling reo, it all poured down at his like a sucker punch.

"i don't understand."

"it's not that hard, i liked them first, i found them first. so they're basically mine."

oh, oh.

it all made sense now. reo felt like an idiot, why is he seeing this now? this is why you were clueless, because you didn't answer it in the first place. why, why was he so rushed to say it and not letting what he thought was you speak first.

every time when nagi would drink from the same bottle of yours, when he would twirl around a piece of your hair randomly, when his head would rest on your shoulder in every ride home, when he would shut down every time reo rambled about you, he just got it. why was he just connecting the puzzle? was his feelings for you so blinding that he couldn't see this?

reo wanted to say something, in fact things. but the lump in his throat clogs his attempts to protests. leaving his mouth agape.

and it was like nagi couldn't get a hold of concern about this, in fact he found waiting for his drinks to make it way down more interesting. yet he sensed a blazing breeze from his friend's direction, it was hard not to when they were on the same burden as an elephant. so the snowy head swiftly retorted, "plus, you already are the standard, right? I'm pretty sure you can find someone else, it'll be better if you found one quicker."

after that, nagi bent over to grab what was supposed to be his lemon tea alongside your favourite one. boredom eyes doubled-dyed at the cans, mostly at yours before blowing out a vague breath一did he just scoff?

"why you.."

"sorry, don't like sharing."

and with that, nagi walked away. head empty with the only maintenance thing was a picture of you as he handed you your favourite flavour with the money that wasn't even his. leaving reo dumbfounding at his back, he didn't get a say on this, like this wasn't even meant for him.

this wasn't a stage he can purchase to himself, not even to earn a role. he felt like a third-wheel in you and nagi's love tale.

it loathes him, brings him to edge even. but most of all, reo now wanted you more than anything.

[raisedbythetv89]

Listennnnn to be loved is to be seen

Buffy is SURROUNDED by people who project and project and project some more onto her without ever truly seeing her and just trying to force her to be whatever they want/need her to be often leaving her feeling used, abused, and lonely.

And so while yes on the surface the Buffy bot is icky as hell and obviously irl all of us would be rightfully horrified if that happened to us. This is fictional and with a still evil but trying to be good but with no human soul to help guide him on how to be good Spike - who has been rejected and is honoring that rejection and finding a solution to leave real Buffy alone by giving him a place to put all his feelings for Buffy somewhere that isn’t Buffy herself - programs her so well and therefore showing how well he sees and understands her!! NO ONE ELSE could have programmed that exact Buffy that was believable enough to fool her friends. So yes it’s twisted but this is a vampire falling in love with the slayer if you want completely healthy truly go elsewhere lololol but so the bot is used to show just how well Spike truly understands her and more importantly what he loves about her which given the partner she had right before this was Riley who VERY CLEARLY hated how strong she was and that she was the slayer…

spike is like SHE NEEDS A DEDICATED SLAYER FOLDER

HE PUT THE YEAR WILLOW CAME OUT IN HER BIO 😭😭😭😭 angel and riley truly could never in a million years pay close enough attention to the people in her life that Buffy cares about to add info like that

The choice of “make spike happy” instead of something like “pleasing spike” feels significant because it’s able to encompass a wider range of things including her care for her friends since that seems to be the active folder when she’s accessing information on them. Buffy caring about other people makes him happy even though he’s morally grey at best at this moment 😭 AND TWO KISSING PROGRAMS ARE THE VERY FIRST THINGS IN THAT FOLDER 😭😭😭 he doesn’t just “want to fuck her” like people try to claim he wants to love her 🥲 he wants her kisses like I’m gonna throw up from how disgustingly tender and heartbreaking that is

Buffy bot calls both her and Buffy very pretty and tells Giles he “should listen to the other Buffy because she’s very smart”. Spike made sure the Buffy bot was a Buffy that loved herself and valued her intelligence like I cannot even begin to tell you how NONE of this is your run of the mill making just a sex bot of your crush because not being able to have sex with them upsets you. He wants to love her because he knows she needs it as much as he wants to give it to her

We have this moment where Buffy bot has finally found Spike who she’s been looking for and worried about the whole time and seemingly only cares about him and no one else and she sees he’s SEVERELY injured yet when Giles calls for help Buffy bot responds at the same time as Buffy does and runs to his aide leaving Spike like she’s still just so BUFFY at her core even if the superficial aspects have been changed 😭

if we compare this moment to the one in something blue where xander calls out for help in the crypt in an IDENTICAL situation yet ACTUAL BUFFY just continues to make out with Spike when he’s not even injured at all 💀 like Spike didn’t even give Buffy bot the “extra love sick” component Buffy herself exhibits for him on multiple occasions 😭

and of course - WE END WITH THIS KISS AND THE WAY SHE’S FUCKING LOOKING AT HIM BRO 😩 she’s like holy shit he was for real when he said he loved me no one has ever done anything like this for me while simultaneously showing how COMPLETELY loyal and obsessed they are and how well they know and love all of me AND my sister like

‼️I CAN DEPEND ON HIM‼️

So close to death even Xander is feeling sympathy for him yet clocks IMMEDIATELY it’s her and she’s just like hi 🥹 yes it’s me, I really just did that. I see you and what you did for me. HAVE HOPE KEEP TRYING DONT GIVE UP.

If Buffy loves you she forgives you pretty easily and I personally think that’s what we’re seeing here with Spike like kissing him in the same ep she learns of the Buffy bot is low key CRAZY 😹 but truly people who have done less for her have done far worse!!! The bot kept dawn and tara from being taken instead and he proved he would protect both of them with his life and like she already loves him which is why she even went for the kiss she was like REALLY THE SITUATION CALLS FOR IT WHAT’S A GIRL TO DO 🤷🏼‍♀️

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi! so far I've loved everything you've written about Kurt, Logan and Remy. 🧎🏻‍♀️

Could you write something about Kurt? where together with reader they are in the kitchen of the mansion because they can't sleep, and she finally tells him her concerns about the magnitude of her powers and Kurt with his heart of gold tells her beautiful things to calm her down and make her laugh, the rest to your imagination, I would appreciate it, you write great! Thanks 💙✨

SFW! Nightcrawler/Fem!Reader

Ok so I will admit that I made this a leeetle self indulgent. I was trying to think of a power someone could really struggle with and a fun one that I thought of was having necromancy, but having such respect for life and death that it feels wrong. I thought it would fit well with a Kurt fic because it's something that almost feels sacrilegious, and it's good to have a fuzzy blue elf assure you that you aren't a monster :) I know its def not power ambiguous, but I hope this is okay :)

Also, I know my writing style is a little different in this one, And thats because the first few paragraphs set the tone for my writing when I start and tbh I think this one just flowed from my soul to they keyboard.

TWs: nightmares, necromancy, gross descriptions of rotting flesh. Extreme self-doubt and self-consciousness. Basically angst with a happy ending.

You’ve been having nightmares again. They hardly seem to stop, but after a break in between the terror, you'd become too relaxed. Too comfortable. You felt defenseless when they started to begin again.

It’s always the same dream, different font. Bones cracking, flesh ripping as it’s forced into place, natural or not. Skin rotting off of once human bodies, sockets where eyes used to be. It was horrifying. You’d see your family, friends, acquaintances, everyone. Dead. Brought back to life by your power, the power you were still so afraid of. You were always afraid of zombie movies as a kid. Anything rising from the dead, anything breathed back to life in some sick and twisted fantasy. It was ironic that your very own strength was the thing you had always been the most afraid of.

Of course, as you aged and the professor took you in, the fear began to wear off. Mostly, it did. The professor not only taught you how to control your powers but also how to work around your fear. You can remember the confusion you felt when he had set a box of ancient bones in front of you. Fragments of titans, dinosaurs who had long since passed. Bones that would never be matched to an accurate set, parts of them being crushed to dust by the cruelty of time. Bones that only you could breathe to life, to bring them together as a whole again. It was convenient, the professor had told you, that you only needed a fragment to do so. He spoke as if it were a service to them. Most importantly, he brought you a box of bones that weren’t, and never had been, human.

He had taken the fear out of your power. Given you an option you had never considered before. Bones without flesh, without living family. Fossils that would serve you as you were serving them. You were… happy, with that. You were content. You could handle bones. You could revive these ancient skeletons without fear, and fight with them without worry. That didn’t change the horror of knowing the capacity your powers had.

    So the nightmares remained, and your sleep had become sparse.

    This particular night you were restless. Unable to sleep despite how tired you have been, but it’s hard to rest when there is only terror waiting behind your eyelids. After a while, you decide to give up trying.

The path to the kitchen is one you have memorized, even in the dark. You’ve always been told never to eat sugar before bed, but the only thing you want to comfort you at this moment is hot chocolate- so screw it.

    You try your best to be quiet while fishing out a pot out of the cabinets. The stove makes a click as you flick it on, filling the pot with milk before stirring it as it warms. The automatic task is comforting, falling into a routine you enjoy. You’ve just added the coco mix when the sound of a *Bamph* greets you.

    “Guten abend.” Kurt whispers, walking over to stand beside you. You give him a tired smile that he returns with a yawn.

    “I’m sorry if I woke you.” You say, face returning to a frown Kurt thinks you wear far too often. Maybe it’s good that he’s here because you realize you made far too much of the sweet drink than you had meant to. You get a mug for him, heart fluttering as his hand brushes your own when he takes it from you, thanking you quietly.

    “You did not wake me, Schatz. I promise.” Kurt says, pulling out a chair for you with his tail as he sits at the table. You nod silently, placing the pot in the sink and filling it with water before you join him, leaning against his shoulder.

    “Did you have another nightmare?” Kurt asks after a moment. His brows are furrowed in concern, and you fail to stop him before he takes a sip from the scalding coco, burning his tongue. He scrunches his nose as he sticks out his tongue, making you giggle for a moment. He thinks your laugh suits you much more than your frown, even if it happens to be at his expense. Your face falls slightly anyway, and he wonders if he could get you to laugh if he did it all over again.

    “...No. Not tonight.” The words come out as less than a whisper, and you doubt he might hear it if it weren’t the middle of the night. Little did you know he’d block the world out if he had to, just to hear you speak a little clearer. He hums in response, and you feel his tail slowly wrap snugly around your waist, the very tip idly stroking you in a comforting manner.

    “...Do you wish to speak about them?” Kurt asks after a moment. You huff slightly, feeling the hot steam from your mug warm your face as you do so. Still too hot, you think to yourself. Flashes of those horrid nightmares come to mind, and no matter how quickly you try to shake them off, they remain. You choose to think of Kurt instead. Sweet, kind, comforting Kurt. You want to bury yourself in his arms, sink into the feeling of his skin, and never let go, if only he would let you. He would without a second thought, if only you had known. You think carefully about your next words, and the visions of flesh and corpses hardly leave you.

    “Am I a monster, Kurt?” You hear a quiet, cut-off gasp from Kurt, and he turns to you. His face is pained, and he sets his mug down to place his hand around your own, still clasped around the hot cocoa. 

    “Of course not. Only a fool would think so.” His words, although comforting, only leave you with a worse sting in your heart. You can’t hold eye contact with him, staring at the reflection in your mug instead. Only a fool would think so. You halfway wonder if you count as a fool, then.

  “Liebling.” You let out a sob at the sound of his voice. Kurt is hunched over, pressing his forehead against your own as he desperately tries to catch your gaze- but you can’t. You can't bear it, and you close your eyes tightly. Kurt takes the mug from your hands. He cups your face as he wipes your tears, and you feel like even more of a monster as he does so. Sobbing as a man with a heart of gold wipes your tears away with love and care.

    “I, just… My powers, what I do. What I am capable of doing. It’s not right.” You take a shaky breath in, desperately trying not to break down here and now. “It’s disgusting. It’s horrible. Every time I find myself comfortable with myself I am reminded of what is possible and I spiral. I don’t want it. I don’t-”  

    “Please, look at me,” Kurt whispers. You try to stop the tears, embarrassed as you fall apart in front of the man you hold so dearly, but it’s hard. It’s so hard. Your chest stings, your throat is sore, you’re sure your nose is running, and yet he still holds you so gently. When your breathing evens out just a bit, you convince yourself to open your eyes again.

    Kurt’s gaze is simply concerned. There is no horror, no disgust, nothing but worry for you. Nothing but kindness. You wonder if you could be even half as good as he is. 

    “You are good. You are kind. You are strong enough to stand by your morals despite the nature of your powers telling you otherwise- and you have the strength to continue to use them and fight your fears anyway. You are one of the most incredible people I have ever met. Do not let your nightmares tell you otherwise.” Kurt’s hold is steady against your cheeks, and your own shaky hands reach up to hold onto his wrists. You sob again as he speaks. You know. You know this. Others have told you, but these words all felt like lies. All but the ones you’re hearing from his mouth. Your tears are slowing, and Kurt leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, leaving the skin tingling. You whisper quiet apologies for crying, and he shushes each one, gently wiping your face with the soft sleeve of his pajama shirt.

  “I would not be here if I didn’t want to care for you, my love,” Kurt says softly. Your eyes widen, taken aback by his words. He called you many things. Liebling. Schatz. Love. But never my love. The words waken butterflies in your belly, and Kurt takes a moment to realize what he’s said. He swallows nervously, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The two of you are treading a line that you both desperately want to cross. 

    Kurt is the first to lean in. He does so slowly, toeing the line between you. His gaze remains on your own as he closes the space, nose nuzzling against your own as he gives you the time to back out if you wish. But you don’t. You want nothing more than to have what he is so freely giving. 

    Kurt kisses you softly, lovingly, and for once the horrors have quieted and are cleared from your mind. All there is now is Kurt, and his soft love. He kisses you a second time before he pulls away, still as close to you as he can be without falling out of his chair. You wonder how he can see beauty where all you see is terror. He wonders if you have any clue just how much of a good person you continue to be.

    He knows he would gladly spend the rest of his life showing you.

[screaminglygay]

Warm welcome

pairings: kate bishop x fem!reader, avengers x reader (platonic)

summary: after 3 months of being gone, you finaly came back home, but there is a new addiction to the avengers, will the two of you come along?

warnings: new series so very very slow burn!, some swearing, bad grammar possibly (i hope not hehe), alcohol consumption, bad jokes, reader being little mess, that’s it for this part I think:)

word count: 5.5k

an: new series!! since i got back into being very obsessed with miss bishop, so i decided to start a new series, its gonna be long, cuz my ideas for this went crazy!

an2: and yes, this is an universe where everyone is alive, most of them are 100% happy and it´s just a safe space, come at me as you want, but i just need them to be happy. that´s all, thank you.

an3: yup i am back! so sorry! work, school and sickness is just not it. ill answer all of you soon! thank you for support, i see youuu!

!MDNI!

After long time away from you found family, you finaly came back home. It was supposed to be quick mission in Morocco, but after you found out that this is something bigger than some usual drug trafficking you had to stay. Not just for Fury´s sake, but for your own too.

And that´s how you stayed over 3 months in some old motel, that looked like a typical horror hounted house, alone. But that was a past, you´re currently standing infront of the main entrance of the Avengers Compound, ready to open the door and see everyone.

As you open the door the voice of a F.R.I.D.A.Y., the Stark´s AI. "Welcome home, miss (Y/L/N), should I contact the others that you are home?"

"No, no. I want it to be surprise. And (Y/N) is just fine, like I´ve said before, many times." you smile.

As you traverse the hallways, anticipation builds with every passing moment, knowing that you're drawing closer to that cherished destination—the main living room. The anticipation turns to a gentle excitement, a feeling of returning to a sanctuary that holds a piece of your soul.

And finally, as you reach the threshold of the living room, a soft sigh escapes your lips, and a smile graces your face. The sight of the familiar couch, but most importatnly the sight of your favorite people.

"That´s the question, do you put cereals or milk first?" you hear Pietro´s voice, smiling at the fact that he didn´t change a bit, still the same goof. Three months are not so long, but at the same time everything can be different in three months.

You watch him for a little bit and then you dediced to speak up. "Everyone who puts milk first is total psychopat," you calmly say as all of their faces turns to look at you.

"Oh my god! (Y/N)!" Pietro says and in a second he´s lifting you up and pulling you into a tight squeezing hug.

"Hey Speedy," you chuckle as he´s crushing your body. "Pietro... too much, ouch." He let go of you.

"Sorry, sorry. It´s been like what?" Pietro laughs and puts you down.

"3 motnhs, 17 days," you look at your phone, "4 hours, 18 minutes and few seconds." Pietro laughs at your comment.

"It was a long time, let´s just say that." You can hear another sokovian accent, this time the voice belongs to a woman. Wanda.

She hugs you close, hints of warm vanilla and soft lavender dance around you. It's a scent that feels like homecoming, wrapping you in familiarity and a sense of belonging. You smile into the touch, as you felt that the touch is soothing the ache of missed embraces. You feel the gentle warmth of her hug infusing into your being, fulfilling a longing for touch that has been starved for far too. "Hi." is all you can mumble, while hugging the girl.

"Hi," she mumbles back, no words needed for the two of you, both of you missed eachother like lungs misses the air. To be fair, Wanda was the first person you grew close to, when you´ve joined the Avengers. She was quiet, but so well spoken at the same time. You never had to explain things for her to understand you. And the same went the other way around.

The rest of the Avengers come into the living room and all of their faces lit up, when they saw you. All of them are here. Except for Carol, who is probably somewhere in the space, you haven´t seen her in almost half a year, since she had off world mission even before you went to Morocco.

You shared many hugs with all of them, and you didn´t mind it a little bit. You were so touch starved after being alone, that you hold everyone closer for at least a few seconds and all of them did the same. Suprisingly even Yelena didn´t said anything, like she always did.

You scan the whole room, chcecking if you didn´t missed anyone and you in fact did. But the person is not someone you recognize. There is this tall, dark hair girl, who looks pretty much the same age as you. She looks effortlessly stylish in her well-fitted blue jeans paired with a cozy gray sweater. The jeans accentuate her figure while the relaxed elegance of the sweater gives off a vibe of comfort. The girl looks rather awkward as everyone greets you. Not that she wouldn´t know who you are, she does, she heard a lot of stories about you, almost like she knew who you are, but you don´t know anything at all and that makes her feel awkward.

You look at her and smile, not knowing what to do yourself, so Clint steps in, "(Y/N), this is Kate, our new help, Kate this is (Y/N), our old help." You nod at Clint´s words and extent your hand for her to shake it.

"Pleasure to finaly meet you, (Y/N)." Kate smiles her hand has a firm grip.

"Nice to meet you too, Kate." You smile, maybe too much for a normal meeting. You have to admit she is georgous and her completly blue eyes are making you forget where you are right now.

"(Y/F/N)!" Natasha storms into the living room, her voice a sharp, controlled fury that cuts through the air, making you swallow... hard. "When did you arrived?" Even thoug she was mad for not knowing you came back, she was very relieved that you are okay and alive. As her hands wrap around you, you let out a squek and you froze knowing what comes afterwards. "Are you hurt?"

"I´m fine," you quickly say as the rest of the team watch you closely.

"I didn´t ask you, how are you, I´ve asked you if you´re hurt." Her eyes scans your face where she sees the little cuts you have on your face.

"A little bit." You mumble and Natasha raises her eyebrow. "I might have or might have not fallen out of the third floor, " you mumble again.

"YOU FELL FROM THE THIRD FLOOR?!" Natasha is basically yelling at you right now.

"Kinda," sometimes you were terrified of that woman, and that sometimes is now.

Natasha takes a long deep breath, "(Y/N), how do you kinda fell out of a third floor?"

"I´m gonna check her up." Bruce smiles and stand up, leading you to the hospital wing downstairs.

"Thank you, for saving my life," you whisper to him as you´re leaving the living room.

"Don´t mention it, but you know... she´s worried about you. We all have been." Bruce opens the door for you.

"I know, but I´m really okay, just few bruises."

...

After 20 minutes of checking you up, and hearing your story of falling from the building, Bruce looks shocked. He didn´t said a word yet, only wrote down something in his report.

"This is going to be a very long mission report, just from the medical side," he looks at you, "(Y/N)... you had your lower ribs broken, twice actually. And- I´m suprised you´re not screaming in pain right now. How do you truly feel?" Bruce finally looks at you.

"I feel good, really. I mean it hurts, yes. But I felt worse. It feels like a daily workout with Natasha," you shrug as you joke, but Bruce doesn´t seem amused by your joke, but he still nods.

"You know Natasha can look into any mission report, right?" He looks like he´s more scared than you are.

"I´m aware, yes." You give him a confused look.

"Well good luck..." he pats your shoulder, "just rest for the next days, keep yourself hydrated and don´t share the story how you fell from the third floor, please. She would lose it."

"But it truly wasn´t my fault I-" Bruce looks at you and you stop, "got it." You nod.

...

"Alright, so picture this: I'm in this quiet little motel in Morocco, writing down some information I found out that day. It's just me, the mission, and this cute little stray cat that kept showing up at my door. Every night, like clockwork, she'd appear, almost like she knew I needed a friend. So, one day, I caved and let her in. You know, against all mission protocols and stuff. Bla blah blah... but she became my only friend, so I would not lose my mind completly." You talk about your experiences on the mission.

"And then, the weirdest thing happened. One day, she just disappeared. I was worried, you know? Felt a bit empty without her there. But on my last day, she came back. And guess what? She brought company—tiny, adorable company. She led me to this corner, and there they were, her little kittens. It was like she wanted to say goodbye and show me her new family all at once. It was… unexpected, but kinda touching, you know?" You smile, thinking about the tiny family.

"It was truly cute and adorable, also it was kinda relaxing after seeing all the bad and negativity. Like... animals are truly precious you know." As you´re talking you didn´t notice another person coming into the living room, until that person decides to speak up.

"(Y/L/N)," you turn around and notice it´s Nick Fury himself.

"Fury!" You smile.

He didn´t smile back, he has the same old Nick Fury look, "I want your report soon..."

"Y-yes, sir." You nod your head, hoping he would welcome you a little warmer, but it´s Nick Fury after all.

"And (Y/L/N)?" Fury says while basically walking out of the living room already.

"Yes, sir?"

"It´s good to have you back." He smiles, Fury smiles at you. There go your wish of a warmer welcome. Nickolas freaking Fury smiled at you and welcomed you home, warmly.

You have a pround smile on your face, when Tony speaks up, "I work for him for god knows how long and he never looked at me this way..."

Natasha looks at Tony and smirks, "can you blame him?".

You sink into the couch with a grin, finally getting a chance to unwind in your home-away-from-home. After swapping stories and catching up on compound news, Tony steps in with a suggestion—a special Avengers night. Not his typical flashy party, thankfully. He calls it a "Catching Up Night," just a laid-back dinner and some drinks.

It's not about going all out; it's about the simple pleasure of hanging out with your superhero pals, sharing laughs and updates. Tonight's vibe feels relaxed, a chance to chill and connect without the whole party frenzy.

...

Like always druing these 'non party party' you and Pietro moved to the bar section, as he loves to make people their drink based on their personality and you just like to sit and listen to him ramble.

"Do you want a drink called 'Tiny cold' or 'Closet paradise'?" he smirks, being proud of his jokes, like the usual.

"Really? First of all I´m not that tiny, also I´m not in the closet. What do you want me to do, tattoo a pride flag on my forehead?" You raise your eyebrow.

"If it wasn´t true you wouldn´t get so defensive, darling," he winks.

"I hate you."

"No, you don´t." Pietro towers above everyone you know, his playful teasing is basically a form of big-brotherly teasing.

"I´ll get the closet paradise, please." You roll your eyes.

"Coming right at ya!" Pietro smiles, once again, he won your little fight.

"So, Pietro, spill the beans! Who's this new girl, Kate?"

"Ah, Kate, huh? What do you want to know about her?" Pietro say while making you the drink.

"Everything! No one's given me a straight answer. Or any answer at all. I mean I didn´t ask, but I´m doing that now..." You ramble.

Pietro smirks at your words, "I mean... she´s cool."

"Come on, Pietro, don't be like that! Is she nice? What does she do?" You are obvoisuly frustrated as not even Pietro is giving you any tea.

"Well, she's got moves, that's for sure. Quick on her feet, sharp with her arrows—" He almost finishes up the drink for you.

"Arrows?" You cut him off.

"Yep, a regular Robin Hood type, except with better aim and a cooler outfit." He put ice in the glass.

"Is she nice, though? Friendly?" You want to get to know her.

Pietro nods and serves you the drink. "Yeah, she's cool once you get past the whole 'I'm new here' vibe she's got going."

"What do you mean?" You smile at him for giving you the drink.

"Why don´t we invite her and you find out yourself?" Pietro says, not really waiting for your answer and he is already waving like a crazy person at Kate, who is still standing next to the table by herself.

Kate smiles as she notices, that she doesn´t need to stand there awkwardly alone, and she little less awkwardly skips over to the bar. Small "hi" escaping her mouth.

"Hey there archer, why were you standing there all alone, when you can have fun with us?" Pietro starts the conversation.

"I uh-" Kate starts, but no smart explanation leaves her mouth.

"Pietro..." you look at him.

"What?" He looks at you, not knowing what he did wrong.

"No, he´s right. I´m little socialy awkward." The tall girl responds.

You smile at her, slightly noding your head. "Aren´t we all?" You try to make her feel a little better.

"I´m not." Of course Pietro had to say something.

"Well you´re one of a kind, Speedy." Pietro smirks proudly, while you roll your eyes once again.

"Um... what are you drinking?" Kate nods towards your drink in your hand. It was indeed very pretty colorful drink.

"I am drinking a drink that Pietro made..." You say while looking at the drink in your hand.

"The drink has it´s name, (Y/N)." Pietro smiles innocently.

"Yeah, well... I forgot it." You simple just shrug while Kate looks very confused.

"I´ll get one too, please. It looks tasty." Kate looks at Pietro, who just giggles to himself and starts to prepare Kate one 'Closet paradise' too.

All three of you start to be a little tipsy after some time, since Pietro´ alcohol ratio was 2/3 and the remaining ingredients 1/3, he´s just a begginer behind the bar. You realized that Kate is such an easy person to talk to and she´s not that intoverted as you though the first time you saw her earlier today. She´s the exact opposite to be fair, she´s very talkative. In some topics more than Pietro, which you thought is impossible.

After a little bit you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, when you sit down on the toilet, you can´t hide your stupid little smile anymore. Why are you smiling? You don´t really know. But it´s nice, it´s really nice actualy.

After 10 minutes, you come back to the bar, seeing that Kate is sitting there alone. "Where is our bartender?"

"He was invited to an arm wrestling match and, of course, he went." You can notice, that Kate´s cheeks are a little flushed, due to the few drinks she had.

"Of course." You chuckle as you sit next to Kate on one of the bar stools and your eyes immedietly look at her. "Do you like it here? Being in the team? Superhero stuff?"

Kate´s eyes meet yours, "I do have to say, that I idolized it a bit, but it´s not so bad. Not at all." She smiles at you, "what about you? Was it hard being away from your family?"

You nod, "First two weeks were okay, it went suprisingly fast, to be honest. Another week was really boring and then... it´s just mashed in one big mess of fighting, bleeding, falling and running away." You chuckle, but the smile never reached your eyes and Kate notices that.

Kate knows that she needs to make you feel better, "I uh... you know people here missed you a lot. To be honest when i officially joined I felt like there is something missing in here.."

"Oh please..."

"No, no, really. When I moved in, Clint told me that no one gives better tours than you. He also told me that no one makes better coffee´s, which was a first big indicator, that you have to be a class." Kate let out a chuckle and so did you. You often had many stories to tell, when you were giving tours, even though you are the second youngest Avanger. And the coffee you make? It can bring a smile even to the grumpiest Winter Soldier.

"And from that moment I heard a lot of things about you, (Y/N). It felt like I knew you too, like I missed you too." Kate admits, after that she sips on her drink.

"Wow, that´s really... nice to hear." You smile from ear to ear. "I hope you heard only the good things though." You slightly blush. "But um... thank you, Kate."

"No problem." She smiles back.

"To be fair, I didn´t heard anything about you, but I would like to change that." Smooth.

"That is pretty fair." Kate nods as she finishes her drink and so did you.

"We can go to the roof." Is a sentence you said at the same time and you also laugh at the same time

"Roof it is." You chuckle as you two get up and aim to the roof.

Upon reaching the rooftop with Kate, a gentle but brisk breeze sweeps by, causing a subtle chill to settle around you. The evening's tranquility is undeniable, yet the slight coldness in the air prompts you to huddle a bit closer to yourself, silently wishing for an extra layer to ward off the chill.

"I don´t want to admit it, but Pietro makes really good drinks." Kate starts as you two sat next to eachother.

"He does, he´s the best, really." You mumble as you nod to Kate´s comment.

She looks at you, for a bit scanning your face, then she speaks up again. "Do you and... Pietro you know? Are you two together?"

That question almost makes you sober, "I- what?!" You look at her, "oh god no! No, no, no," you laugh.

"No? Oh sorry, I just... assumed." She lets out a little shaky breath.

"We´re close friends, but that´s all. I actually joined a little bit after them and since all of us were scared and going into the unknown we decided to stick together. Including Wanda." You explain the situation, while Kate nods at your words.

"Oh- I see." Her eyes are still on you.

"I wouldn´t choose Pietro in any scenario..."

"That´s harsh." She chuckles.

"I mean it in the best way possible, he´s... anyone who will date him is lucky and unlucky at the same time. Being his friend means having a strong willpower not to kill him, I can´t even imagine what it would be in a relationship with him."

"That´s fair, I guess." Kate nods.

"Give him few more moths and you´ll understand..." You let out a small giggle.

"So you´re not into cocky people?" Kate is bold, very bold. it shocks you, but at the same time it excites you a lot.

"I- don´t really know. I guess... if you´re nice to me, that´s all I´m asking, really." You shrug, once again making eye contact.

"Wait really? This little? Oh come on, not even type? Just 'Nice'?" Kate can´t believe your words.

"Yup. I´m not picky at this point."

"Oh wow, you´re one of the migty heroes, and all it takes to steal your heart is to be nice?" Kate smiles at you, trying to hold a laugh.

"And a good smile, I´m quite sucker for pretty smiles." You didn´t even register you said it, until Kate repeats it.

"Nice and a good smile, whoa (Y/N), be little humble." She nudges your side with her elbow.

"Very funny, Bishop. Do you know how hard is to find someone, who is actually nice? It´s hard these days." You sigh dramatically.

"Whatever you say." Kate lays down, looking at the stars. You watch her for a few minutes and then you lay down next to her.

It feels like you two know eachother longer than just few hours. The alcohol might be a little helper, but at the end you feel like you two are gonna be close friends.

"I still think that there is way more good people than bad, so you might have a chance..." she mumbles as she watches the night sky.

"You think?"

"I know that. For example here, all of you guys are nice, super nice. And I´m not saying it just because you´re 'The Avengers', but I can tell that no matter what you´re trying to do the best." Kate turns her head and looks at you.

"You know you´re part of this punk family too, right? And also it would be weird and kinda pointless, if some bad guys were in the Avengers." You chuckle as you point out.

"That´s not what I´ve meant and you know it." She rolls her eyes and looks back up.

"How did you even met Clint?" You ask, shifting your position so now you´re laying on your side, facing the archer.

"Um... I saved a dog´s life and he almost hit me with his car." Kate responds like it was nothing.

You laugh, "I have to say that is very original way to get into the team. 'You almost killed me and I won´t sue you, if you let me be an Avenger.' And bonus points for saving a dog´s life."

Kate groans and turns on her side to face you, "it was not like that... I was running away from a weird kinda scary looking guys, which later on I found out they were called 'Track-suit mafia'-" As Kate starts to explain how she actually got on the team and how she is basically the young and female version of Clint, you can´t help but notice how happy she is.

She's delving into these tiny details that might not matter to the story at large, but they mean the world to her, and you can sense it. Her storytelling consumes her so much that she's using her entire body, mostly her hands, to illustrate every bit of it. You find it incredibly endearing, the most adorable thing you've ever witnessed.

"Oh wow, so you´re badass basically." You laugh.

"I- yeah, you could say that too." She laughs as well.

"Well it is a honor and-" you sit back up, while you still look at her. "Thank you for your service, miss Bishop."

Kate smile and notices your subtle shivers in the chilly air, gently nudging you. "Hey, you're shivering. Come on, let's head back inside."

You attempt to brush it off with a weak smile. "Nah, I'm good, just enjoying the view."

She tilts her head, giving you a knowing look. "Sure, you are," Kate teases. "But seriously, you're freezing. Let's go before you turn into an icicle."

Reluctantly, you nod, giving in to the undeniable truth. "Alright, fine."

The door creaked open, welcoming you into the comforting embrace of the heated indoors. With a grateful smile, you thanked Kate for her concern, secretly relieved to escape the biting cold.

"There you are! Where have you been?" A slightly drunk Tony takes your hand, "thanks to me, being so amazing, I´ve got a little suprise for you!"

"I was- what surprise?" You give Stark a confusing look.

"It was not thanks to you, but Fury." As soon as the voice echoes through the room, you instinctively recognize it—Carol, immediately drawing your attention her way.

"Carol?!" You turn around and notice a tall blonde lady standing behind you, with her hair down and a black pants with a black tank top.

"I heard you came home." She said with her typical smirk, while her big strong hands wrapped your body. You simply just nod.

"How long will you stay?" You knew right away, that it won´t be for long.

"Just tonight, I´ll be leaving tomorrow early in the morning." You sigh, it was like this all the time, Carol will come and go, you didn't hold it against her at all. She is the protector of the whole space, not only The Earth. It was hard for her too, you hoped that she will remeber to be Carol for a bit, not only the Captain Marvel. And thanks to Valkyrie, she´s taking care of herself too, but after what happened to Monica, it became worse again.

"So still nothing?" Carol just shakes her head and you frown.

"But we won´t stop looking and we will find her." Carol is trying to be strong, but all of the people in this room knew, that it was just too much, even for a hero like her.

Trying to ease the situation you speak up. "Well then let´s ejnoy this few hours, all of us together." You smile, "I´m glad you´re home too, Car." She nods and smiles back at you.

"Natasha have mentioned, that you had fallen from third floor..." Carol sits down.

"You never finished that story, (Y/N)." The Widow stares at you and your eyes immedietnly search for Bruce, he only shakes his head.

"Oh um... it is not worth telling, nothing special nor interesting." You smile and quickly grab bunch of chips on the table.

Captain Marvel looks at Natasha and nods, "I see," and with a smirk on her face, she sips from her drink. "One would say, that it would be an interesting story to tell." Carol point out.

"Well it´s not." You take some more chips.

The night flowed seamlessly, filled with lively conversations and shared laughter as everyone talked and truly enjoyed themselves. It was one of those evenings where every conversation was engaging, every joke landed perfectly, and the camaraderie among the Avengers felt stronger than ever.

…

As you wait for the elevator to your room, you can´t help but smile. After a long day, today was really good. After you reached your room it didn’t took you long enough to fall asleep.

...

"MY BEST FRIEND CAME HOME AND NO ONE TOLD ME?!" You hear a voice yell at you. Before you can open your eyes, your hit with what felt like pillow.

"Huh?!" You blink a few times to get use to the light in your room.

"WHEN DID YOU CAME? HOW LONG ARE YOU HERE-" Now it was your turn to take the pillow and throw it at the person. As you finaly focus you notice that it´s Spider-boy himself.

"What time is it?" You mumble, still being half asleep.

"6 A.M. BUT WHY DID NO ONE TOLD ME YOU´RE-" And he is hit with another pillow.

"Don´t yell, please," you rub your eyes.

"You´re not happy to see me?" Peter sits next to you on the bed.

"I'm excited to see you, but maybe not with the yelling and at a more reasonable hour than 6 freaking A.M. I'll be much happier." You smile as you open your arms, inviting him into a nice early morning hug.

"Why did no one told me you´re back? I´m always the last one to know things." Peter whines dramatically as he pulls away from the hug.

"Well Tony told me you went with MJ and May on a dinner, so that´s why he didn´t want to ruin it." You shrug, "Anyways how are things with you and MJ?" You raise your eyebrow and he blushes a bit.

"Things are good, really really good, (Y/N). And yesterday dinner with May was really good, we all had fun." You smile at his response.

"I´m really glad." You are happy for you friend, it took him ages to finally confess to her. "Do you.. uh do you know Kate?" You look at him as Peter nods his head, "well... I met her yesterday, and we had a little converstaion on the roof and... she is nice. Really nice. Clint chose a good person" You say with a little blush on your face.

"Oh my god- is she like really really really nice?" He teases.

"Yeah..." You smile, knowing that Peter got your message.

"That is cute. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has a crush. Awww." Peter chuckles.

"Eww stop. I don´t know if it´s a crush, maybe it is... but you- " Peter cuts you off.

"Can´t tell anyone. Got it. Don´t worry. But under one condition..." Peter points up a finger.

"And that will be?"

"You have to talk to her, actually talk to her. Not just you´re super topic about the weather." You always talked to people about weather, when there was nothing else to do and you were dying to save the conversation.

"Easy." You smirk.

Spider-boy raises his eyebrows, "Easy? Let me bet, that you you will forget your own name when she looks at you."

"Oh shut up." You get out of the bed, taking just some oversized hoodie, since you already have a black swetapants and a shirt. "And since you woke me up this early, you´re making me a breakfast." Peter just nods as you two walk into the elevator.

...

When Peter starts to make you some pancakes, Carol walks in.

"There you are! I´m leavin for now, but-" You didn´t let her finish, you just rush to give her a warm long hug.

"I know. Just be careful and don´t forget to take care of yourself." The blonde one smiles.

"Copy that. So... see you later?"

"See you later, Cap." You salute her, which makes her laugh. And with that, Carol went into the skies once more and this time you hope you will see her sooner than in 6 months. The sentence 'see you later' is always better than a goodbye.

As you and Peter swap stories, reliving the adventures and crazy story times. Before he can finish his story about training with Bucky, a dark-haired girl strolled in, catching your attention.

"Morning." She smiles at you and then looks at Peter. Her raspy deep morning voice, messy hair and gray sweatpants with a white tanktop is something no one prepered you for.

"Hi, hello, morning, good- one!" Kate smile just widens and she goes past you to the fridge to get a fresh orange jucie.

Peter leans in closer and mumbles. "You owe me 10 bucks," having the most arrogant smile on his face. You just slap his arm.

"Can I get some pancakes too, please?" Kate watches as Peter flips another one on the plate.

"Of course!" He starts to make a few more, until he looks at his phone, "oh no! I completly forgot. (Y/N) watch the pancakes. I have to go, but you ladides have a good morning!" Peter gives you his spatula and even though Kate just nods and sits down, you know what his plan is.

"Bye Peter." You stare at him, but deep down you´re glad that you can spent some alone time with the archer.

He just sends you a wink and leaves the room.

"Need any help with the toppings?" Kate asks, watching you finish the rest of the pancakes.

"N-no, I've got it. I mean, I can handle it. Thank you, though."

Kate chuckles softly, noticing your nervousness. "You seem a bit flustered. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, just... morning jitters, I guess. I'm not a morning person."

"I see." She smiles.

"Do you have any plans for today?" You look up from the pan.

"Just the usual, a bit of training, maybe some archery with Clint later." Kate asnwers as you put some pancakes infront of her. As Kate tries the pancakes, you feel a sense of relief mixed with a tinge of excitement.

"The pancakes turned out pretty great! Anyway, how about we plan something fun for later? Maybe a movie night?" Kate say while finishing her last piece.

"Sounds perfect! I'd love that, Kate." Oh maybe early mornings are not so bad.

...

Over the next month, the bond between you and Kate flourishes, evolving into a deep and cherished friendship. Training sessions become a shared routine, where sparring sessions turn into moments of encouragement and laughter, each victory and defeat strengthening the relationship between you. Kate's guidance and support during training sessions spark a newfound confidence within you, making each session not just about physical exertion but also about trust and shared goals.

Movie nights become a beloved tradition, the occasional heated debate over the best movie snacks were on daily basis. It's these moments, cozy and intimate, where you find yourself drawn further into the orbit of Kate's infectious personality, her laughter becoming the soundtrack of your nights.

Walking Lucky, Kate's faithful companion, becomes a cherished routine. You find comfort in these quiet moments, admiring Kate's easygoing nature and her love for Lucky, feeling your admiration for her grow stronger with each passing day.

Yet, as your friendship blossoms, so do the feelings within you. What started as little crush has transformed into something deeper, a warmth that lingers whenever you're near Kate, a longing that grows with each shared laugh and meaningful glance. But you bury these feelings deep, treasuring the friendship too much to risk changing its dynamics.

thank you for reading! hopefully you’ll love this new series!!! 💕💖💞

[alexlwrites]

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7xReader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:   The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, College AU, angst if you squint.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

°•. ✿ .•°

Part 12 - What?

(<<< part 11)

Jin is sick.

Full on sick, bed-ridden, will-written (he left everything to his family dog, hoping to install chaos even in his after life), shivering in his near death state.

To sum up his pitiful state, Jin had the flu.

As the eldest, he was always thrown into the role of caregiver and he truly didn’t mind. Jin thrived knowing that his friends were well-fed and taken care of and the apartament wasn’t a pit of despair, dirty laundry, testosterone and food poisoning. Taking care of others filled him with prime and a beaming sense of purpose. He liked his loved ones happy and, furthermore, he liked being the one to provide said happiness, whether for his amazing cooking abilities or gentle, refined comedy.

But now, nearing the end of his life by the hands of a sneeze that just wouldn’t snooze, he regretted spoiling his dongsaengs rotten, because none of them had a single clue on how to help him or, at the very least, not worsen his state. 

Namjoon’s voice echoed from the kitchen, a place he had been previously banned from, but brought back to in those desperate times “How much sugar do I put in this?”.

Nevermind. Jin wasn’t that desperate. 

“None!” he coughed , feeling his soul leaving through his mouth as he hacked his lungs out “It’s a soup, you tall noodly buffoon.” 

“What’s going on?”

Jin turned his red, teary, tortured eyes towards the door, where you stood with your backpack, taking off your shoes.

Namjoon scurried from the kitchen, seemingly untormented by the cloud of smoke left behind him and the alarming wheezing sound that foreshadowed nothing good.

“Y/N!” he called sweetly and leaned in to kiss your cheek, a brazilian habit he picked up from you, but funnily enough only seemed to use with you “Jin is being mean to me!”

Ugh. As if Seokjin wasn’t sick enough, he was then forced to watch his back-stabbing, sugar and baking powder wielding, Big Bird of a friend drape himself over your much smaller and much less Sesame Street looking body.

Jin wasn’t in his clearest state of mind, so he didn’t stop to ponder on the implications of the ache in his chest and the twisting sensation in his stomach at the sight, chalking it off as one of the symptoms of his imminent doom and not at all a sign for something much bigger and catastrophic.

“Why are you being mean, Jinnie?” you asked as you removed the koala-like grip Namjoon had on you and put away your stuff.

“He’s trying to poison me” he croaked from his pitiful burrow in the L shaped couch “Putting sugar in the soup.”

“Joonie, please we have talked about this. More than once.” Jin couldn’t help but purr with satisfaction as you chastised his lanky friend. Finally, he thought, sweet vindication “Don’t worry, Jin, I’ll get you something to eat.”

Those last few words sounded as if they were whispered from a thousand miles away, barely background noise as Seokjin once more slipped in and out of consciousness.

When he woke up again, there was a cold towel against his forehead and a pleasant smell filled his senses. You stood by his side, holding a bowl of something that smelled absolutely divine and Jin had a short, intrusive thought that this is what heaven looked like.

“Good to see you awake.” you said as his eyes blinked open “Sit up, I made you soup. Sugarless. You should get something to eat.”

Jin stretched his tired body, feeling the dull ache in his muscles complain about the movement. HIs fever seemed to have gotten better, but there was still some uncomfortableness left by his sweaty, snotty state.

Even so, he betted he still looked great. Sexy even, in a plague-esque, victorian child sort of way, like Timothee Chalamet. Hotter, both in looks and temperature, than most men in his life.

“Where’s everyone?” he asked, noticing the empty and unusually silent and peaceful apartament. 

“They left a while ago. Joonie had classes.”

“Ungrateful bastards” he mumbled “I could’ve died since then!”

“From the flue?”

“From resentment!”

You laughed, placing the porcelain bowl carefully in his hands “Trust me, you don’t want any of them taking care of you.”

“Maybe Yoongi.”

“Yeah” you agreed “Maybe Yoongi.”

He ate in silence for a while, watching you make yourself busy around the room, unpacking your school bag and fixing yourself something to eat. “How are you feeling now?” you asked after sometime in quietude.

He coughed, folding over himself as his whole chest heaved in a violent fit. “Better”

Your arched a doubtful brow “You sure?”

Jin raised two thumbs, smile looking like a grimace. 

“Yeah, very convincing except for the snot and smoker’s cough you have” you said, pushing him to lie back on the couch, hands on his burning chest “Stay down, soldier, I’ll take care of you.”

Those words sparked something in Jin’s chest, a sudden rush of fondness and affection that heated his cheeks even more. He had proudly and happily taken the role of caretaker in their friend group and never resented, but there was no denying the warmth that sentence brought him. 

Your relationship with him had always been casual, at best, just exchanging crossed jokes and puns that made no one else laugh but the two of you. And although he liked to joke about your position as his future wife, there hadn’t been many attempts from either parties to deepen your friendship. You were just… Comfortable, Jin guessed. There was no strain to keep a conversation going, no awkward stepping around each other like there usually was in the beginning stages of getting to know someone.

Maybe it was your similarities that made you so at ease around each other, Jin pondered, weirdly contemplative in his pile of sickness by the couch. You were both the funniest people alive, great cooks, caring and exceedingly beautiful indivi- 

Woah, he paused. When did he start thinking you were beautiful - exceedingly so? You were cute, sure, but beautiful? His eyes followed you across the room as you cleaned up the slight mess scattered around the space, accessing your features: lit up eyes, easy smile, soft looking hair and skin that begged for him to reach out and touch…

Jin halted his dangerous line of thinking. Was this a side effect of the flu or an epiphany? Was the pounding of his heart just a sign of the decomposing of his body or just the feeling of unbound gratefulness at being taken care of? Or was it just…

You.

***

You. 

Jungkook thought about your existence within his life half wistfully and half infuriated. You were simultaneously the reason why he had a hard time leaving his room after waking up and paradoxically the current only reason he did. There was nothing new about early mornings with his hyungs hogging the coffee and sleeping on top of the dinner table, but seeing you by the kitchen sink or holding stupid Yoongi’s stupid hands always kickstarted his heart, even if painfully so. He had been living with you for quite a few weeks now and his body and soul had yet to get accustomed to your presence in his routine - still, you were everywhere, from your perfume invading his senses to his Marvels movies he could never watch the same way now that he knew how it felt to see them with your arms around him. 

Jungkook had to act. Not only because he couldn’t hold his feelings inside his surprisingly muscular chest, but also due to the movement he could see happening around the house hold. From Namjoon clinging onto you like a disease, to Hoseok’s threats and Yoongi’s silent plottings, Jungkook knew if he didn’t do something, someone else would.

And he was nothing if not a sore fucking loser. 

So Jungkook got to planning, cataloging everything he knew about you and your routine to come up with the perfect moment to ask you out. He had not gotten as far as considering what he would do if you said yes (start dancing? Yell? Fireworks? Punch Namjoon in celebration? Who fucking knew) but in order to not panic he had to take everything one step at a time and hope for the best, even if his previous relationship histories pointed in a different direction.

On the day he chose as The Perfect Day™, no one was supposed to be home, out having classes, at work or spreading havoc somewhere around campus ( mainly Taehyung and Jimin). No one, except you, enjoying one of your rare days off. 

He had armed himself with an arsenal of your favorite things, from pastries to flowers, one more tube of lipgloss to add to your insurmountable collection and crocheted trinkets he tried to make himself but turned out looking like unidentifiable blobs (he hoped he could charm you with his attempt, at least). He practiced his speech until the words left his mouth automatically, leaving no room for mistakes or blabbing. 

And he hoped, God did he hope, that you would give him the time of your day and spare him of the misery of having you so close and not being able to touch. 

But things started going south as soon as he reached the first step of the stairs up to their apartament and ran face first into Hoseok, carrying a bouquet of roses and a bag from the same bakery Jungkook had just visited.

They stared at each other in dumbfounded silence for a few seconds, seeing but not processing each other’s presence and what it meant until Hoseok said “What are you doing?”.

Jungkook spluttered indignantly, “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I said I was going to do!” 

“So am I!” 

A second passed and no one moved. One second later, Jungkook bolted up the stairs, followed by his cursing hyung as he hoped that his toned thighs would give him an advantage in the race for your heart.

“I should be the one to ask her out!” Hoseok yelled from five steps behind “I’ve known her the longest!”

“And did nothing!” the maknae replied, starting to break a sweat “It’s my turn! You lost, old man!” 

“Old man? I’m only a couple years older than you! I’m Y/N’s age! Are you calling her old?”

That made Jungkook trip up a step, slowing down his ascent “No! At least I can call her noona! What can you call her, huh?”

“I don’t know what I’m calling her, but I know what I’m calling you when I’m throwing you down the stairs: an ambulance!”

“Better make sure they know how to fix your broken heart when she says yes to me!”

“And if she says no?”

***

And if she says no?

Rejection was never something Jin gave much thought about and he wasn’t about to start now. 

It was less about the belief that no one could reject him (although the concept did seem foreign to most) and more about rejecting the idea of missing opportunities due to fear of rejection. He could move on from being denied something, but never from regretting not taking chances.

And maybe this was a chance worth taking. Maybe, he thought while still observing you from his death bed (the couch), he could allow a joke to grow into something bigger and get to know you a little better. You didn’t have to start dating and then get married right away, but he saw potential in your congruent personalities. 

And what more could he ask from a woman besides a sense of humor and the ability to feed him without poisoning him? The universe had already handed you to him in a platter.

“Y/N” he called softly.

You raised your head from across the room and smiled softly, further finalizing his decision with the way your eyes lit up “Yes?”

“Go out with me.”

Your eyes widened in shock “What?”

“What?”

They turned their heads to the door, where Jungkook was pressed against it with eyes as big as saucers, holding it close with his weight before it burst open to a panting Hoseok and, in the back, an appalled Yoongi stepping out from the elevator.

“WHAT?”

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

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[captain-camille]

_𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞_

‣ Jack Sparrow x f!reader

‣ As a young woman of noble blood, society is a golden cage. There is no mention of you unless the subject is marriage or manners while your trip to Port Royal has become a rescue maneuver. One faithful night aboard the Dauntless you finally snap. And meet the captive Captain Jack Sparrow...

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 18+ language, old society rules, emotional chaos, very light angst ‣ 3,4k words

Your dress weighed heavy on your shoulders, the corset strangled your lungs to a delicate point where you began to feel dizzy.

Silver cutlery laid untouched next to your empty plate. The hunger had long passed. 

Either way was it impossible to properly eat with this torture device crushing your ribs. You would fetch a banana later.

“Miss Sheffield“ Lord Somerset hardly drew your attention while he adjusted his white wig “I find myself greatly invested in the many stories of your brother. They're indeed impressive, are they not?“.

It took nerves to hinder your eyes from rolling.

Instead, you gave him an appreciative but short nod. There was bitter sarcasm within the subtlety of your gesture.

Another man's head, adorned with a teal hat with feathers, turned towards you. Father.

“They are, clearly“. You verbally lend weight to your faux-assent as your father's stern gaze fixed on your face.

You suspected him pleased now.

However, his interest in you promptly vanished and a song of praise of someone else continued to fall from his pale lips.

Sweet, boisterous praise for your great brother, of course. 

You were sick of it but with time had begun to see it as an opportunity to reign over your own life as freely as possible.

For as long as possible.

Every eye and word was on your brother while you, the sister of the new Governor of Nassau and member of the Privy Council, were neigh invisible.

And still you could never leave the shiny prison that was the English noble society. Like living in a nightmare that had occasional sunlight in it but was full of madness anyway.

As the men's triumphant laughter echoed across the room, you pictured how Davy Jones' Locker would be a better place to bide your time.

Or maybe you should run away and live a seamstress' life. Alternatively, a barmaid.

In the corner of your vision you saw Norrington slightly leaning over to you. The new Commodore stationed in Port Royal, as he was.

“You look fabulous tonight, Miss“ he cooed, voice low.

His blue gaze rested on the glittering necklace you wore. A collective of silver, sapphires and pearls Lord Somerset had gifted you upon boarding the Dauntless.

Or perhaps Norrington's gaze laid on your cleavage but if so, he concealed it well.

He had to. Hell would come upon him.

You flashed him a polite smile and a demure “Thank you, Commodore“ before your eyes wandered off to the sea that was painted in the colors of a tropical sunset.

The windows were small but still incapable to diminish the glimmer. It went straight to your heart...

“Since you are a young woman, too-“ the man continued, hoisting a chalice to his lips. Beneath the table, your hand balled in a fist.

It did little to soothe your nerves, though.

“-I wondered whether you would think Elizabeth liked such jewelry as, um, a wedding gift?“ his smooth voice asked but the hesitant tone betrayed him.

You had long seen it in his eyes that Norrington's desires to marry Swann's daughter weren't as honest as he tried to make it seem.

Just as Elizabeth struggled to let go of the young blacksmith Will Turner she was currently trying to rescue.

Just fellow souls lost in this noble dilemma, you almost chuckled to yourself.

Luckily, you were quick enough to bridle any inner jests and looked back in Norrington's eyes.

“I’m most certain she would be delighted. However, it occurred to me that Miss Swann prefers silver to gold.“ you advised him before he got dragged back into a naval discussion with the men. 

Not even thanks were left for your input.

Once again your brother's name was thrown around like a cricket ball. 

The urge to just leave this charade of a dinner grew stronger while darkness began to fall upon the majestic Dauntless.

Candle light reflected in the men’s white and grey wigs like it would in the feathers of doltish pigeons.

Nearly scoffing, the focus of your eyes blurred.

Thoughts wandered off to the small bits of information you had grasped throughout the last two days; a business trip to Port Royal had turned into quite an amusing rescue maneuver as Norrington spotted the smoke signal Elizabeth was sending from a lonely island. 

She was brought onto the ship along with a mysterious pirate who turned out to be none other than the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow.

Lord, he seemed so different to the men you were used to. So interesting…

“Yn, the Lord's question was, would you be his companion on a visit to your brother?“ The raspy voice of your father suddenly cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife. 

You cleared your throat, hiding a muttered “god, no“ along the cough.

No, you simply couldn’t do this any longer tonight.

Tomorrow morning the misery would begin anew and the nights were too short anyway.

Dinner was over for you, you decided and shot up, heading towards the door. 

“Young Miss, where do you think you are going?“ your father called across the room, causing you to spin and face him along with everyone else seated on the grand table.

An unreadable expression settled on your face, lips moving on behalf of your temper. 

“Father, I do believe you won’t miss me much while conversing solely about my brother“. 

Norrington let out a shaky breath, his head turning to expect your father’s answer. Obviously, he was used to Elizabeth's docile manners.

The grey wig beneath Lord Sheffield's hat shifted slightly as he cocked his head.

He looked ridiculous. 

“Then go, yn. I do not have the time nor the patience for your behavior right now“ he sighed, waving his hand in an enervated gesture of dismissal “Check on Miss Swann when you pass by“.

The stingy sensation of the corset fighting your big breaths vexed you, along with your father's aloof attitude.

Nevertheless, he granted you exactly what you wanted; to leave and mind your own business.

A business that had preferably sparsely to do with these men.

“Thank you, sir. I will“ you curled your lips, forcing a hasty smile before your knees bent in a curtsy. “Lord Somerset, thank you again for the generous gift. Commodore“.

The Lord stood up with his chest puffed, trying to address you. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Sheffield. I wish you a good-“  

But the rest of his irrelevant set-phrase was cut off by the door closing behind your back. It snapped shut with a soft rock of the Dauntless.

As if she felt sorry for you.

Taking a big breath of the fresh sea breeze your tongue finally spoke some truth. “Damn you, Somerset“.

It felt good, even if it did little to improve your situation.

You knew you had to get away from the cabins or else your words of pent-up frustration would eventually find them.

Maybe you would find solace on the quarterdeck instead?

As you marched up the stairs with a grimace on your face from how impractical the heavy dress was, a young maid brushed past you with filled wineglasses on a silver tray. 

She smiled with respect, but could barely hide her excited look at the luxurious necklace.

Her soft lips parted when she spoke up in awe “If I may, Baron Somerset really is doting upon you, Miss“.

At her comment, the matching earrings with the similarly cut sapphires began to itch.

“So it seems“ you answered flatly, still trying your best not to let it all out on the innocent girl. 

“I happen to have overheard him talking about how beautiful your children would be“ she added with enthusiasm, unaware of your aversion to said nobleman.

You felt your gut twist and tighten at the vision alone. 

Children with this man? No.

On the brink of screaming or crying, your hand flew up to grab one of the glasses.

“Did he now?“ You hoisted it and bathed your upper lip in the sweet taste of Portuguese wine “Golden me“. 

Hearing her colleague call for her, the maid quickly curtsied and made her way down to the main cabin.

You sighed heavily, taking another sip.

Up on the spacious quarterdeck you wasted no time, set the glass down on a random barrel and began to take off your earrings. 

They were burning on your skin now.

Anger, chagrin and despair rioted in your veins like a hurricane.

So untamed, you didn’t even notice the man at the helm observing your actions through curious eyes.

“To hell-“ you shouted, kicking your right foot so that your shoe flew overboard in a wide arc “with you, father“ the other shoe followed suit.

“And Somerset“ you tossed one earring into the black sea, holding the other one while you unhooked the expensive necklace.

You didn’t hesitate a second to proceed with this macabre yet somehow weirdly freeing act of rebellion.

With your right arm outstretched, jewelry in your hands, you stood at the ship’s railing, wind in your face.

“And to the depths with this society of hypocrites and it's stupid rules“ your now hoarse voice exclaimed bitterly before your tossing arm got stopped mid way. 

What?

Twisting on your stocking feet, you ended up only inches away from Jack Sparrow’s face who was grinning at you with a pleased sparkle in his dark eyes.

You didn't dare to breathe, mouth agape.

He was still holding onto your arm even though you had lowered it in a mixture of shock and awe.

“Not good. Ye wouldn't wanna be doin' that, lassie“ the pirate purred, gold teeth adding to the captivating shine of his eyes.

Since the Navy took him prisoner, you had never spoken to him. Only eves-dropped when he had persuaded Norrington as if it was easy.

And now you could feel his breath fan across your face, the scent of the sea and rum intoxicating your brain.

Slowly, he unwrapped and lifted his fingers off your arm. One by one like a fan.

“Why not? You cannot stop me“ you eventually found your courage again and yanked your arm away. 

The man scrunched his brows, lips closing. The many trinkets in his dreadlocks clinked as Sparrow cocked his head.

Your eyes were slaves to his eccentric mimic for a little while before you finally got to step back.

His presence somehow calmed you down, brought your nerves to a halt. All the way to the point where you remembered your manners.

“My apologies, Mister Sparrow. I didn’t mean to-“ you began to apologize for the snappy behavior but he interjected with a finger pointing at you.

“Never be sorry for disobeying rules that aren't worth following, luv“.

Irritated by the unexpectedly wise words, you found yourself at a loss for an answer.

This man was a real pirate after all. The closest thing to an anarchical life there was. 

Your heart pumped awe through your veins that began to pacify the storm within. 

Features dropping from trained, polite distance to honest distress, your gaze darted down to the jewelry in your hand. It was worth at least as much as your entire collection of summer gowns. 

The blue stones seemed somewhat black tonight.

As grim as your future. With Somerset. Or any other noble, dim-witted aristocrat. 

The pirate just stood and watched the tragic poem being written all over your beautiful face. His silence allowed the gears in your mind to shift.

Then, you seemed put.

“What even are you doing at the helm, Sparrow?“ You asked to avoid any potential questions when you mindlessly chucked the bundle of jewelry to him.

He grinned again as an audible clink and clatter signaled you that he had caught it.

You were sure that Sparrow had a better use for it than you did. Whatever it may be.

Admittedly, you would have just thrown it overboard or locked it away in a random jewel casket for eternity.

A husky gravel met your ears when he cleared his throat after sinking the necklace deep into the inside pocket of his brown jacket.

It was as if he knew you didn't have any expectation of thanks or desire for inquiring about your deed.

“Isla de la Muerta can only be found by those who already know where it is-“.

Slow steps of heavy boots on wooden tiles neared you from your left.

“And rumors have it me, meself and I have a heading Norrington doesn’t, savvy?“ Sparrow slurred, snapping open a compass as he leaned his back against the railing next to you.

With your eyes raking over the dusk ocean, you couldn’t help but risk a peak over to his hands.

You grimaced. The compass obviously didn’t point north.

Was he tricking the Commodore?

Suddenly, Jack chuckled, clearly having seen your expression.

“Nah... tale for another night“ he simply stated closing the small, brown box again.

His intense gaze crawled all over your side profile and pinned updo. “Tell me somethin’ about ye, Missy. Plagued by those wig-suckers, eh?“ 

You gave a snort of laughter, enjoying his unfiltered way of addressing the men you were used to calling 'Lord', 'Governor' or 'Commodore'.

“You know exactly who I am. Do not call me Missy“ you snapped, biting down a playful smile no one had ever elicited as easily as the foreign pirate did.

Perhaps it should worry you but it didn’t in the slightest. 

Jack arched his figure to lean back more and study your edged expression from the front. You tried to shoot him an unfazed look but the pirate saw right through it and smiled widely. 

How he could read you so emphatically was far beyond what you were used to from men. It confused you. 

Just as it puzzled Jack that your behaviour was so devoid of any of the hospitality and judgement he had come to expect from your class.

It only drew the both of you deeper into whatever this conversation would become.

“Apologies, me bad. Miss Sheffield“ his deep voice cooed, finally cracking your surface and putting a soft blush on your cheeks.

“It never occurred to me that Pirates can be this charming“ you snickered with a hint of irony, eyes resting on Sparrow’s unique features for a moment.

His tanned skin was reflecting the flickering light of oil lamps. Sparrow was a handsome man, you realized.

Effortlessly and in tune with the ship's rocking, the man pushed off the railing to trail behind you.

“I always expected Pirates to be more- rogue, I suppose“ you mused, more to yourself.

Sparrow tsk'ed but he didn't seem hurt.

Your head cocked when you felt his hot breath close to the nape of your neck.

“A Shilling that I can alter your outlook on Pirates all by me onesies, eh?“ His comment was nonchalant and smug but in a swinging way.

This man had nerves. 

“Didn't I just give you a collier worth far more than one Shilling?“ you asked rhetorically, amplifying the perky tone.

The pirate hummed, as if contemplating. “Alright, then. Consider your debt paid“.

It was utterly refreshing to converse so freely without any rules or boundaries. You grew fond of it with every passing second. 

When Sparrow didn’t re-appear on your other side, you turned around to spot him chugging down the wine you had abandoned in your rage.

“Sorry, it’s no rum but-“

“-good. That’s good“ he complimented the red liquid, analyzing the ornate chalice through narrowed eyes before he sat it back down.

Carefully, with his pinky stretched out with decorum.

You caught yourself giggling but promptly covered your mouth with a palm. Habits. 

“So, Miss Sheffield...“ the pirate urged you, swaggering closer until he stood by your side again. His elbows were quickly propped on the reddish railing.

“Pray tell“.

You sighed. However, the will to empty your heart was unbreakable. 

It was easier when your gaze found shelter in the darkness of the Caribbean night but Sparrow’s stare lingered on you nonetheless. 

“I- I feel like- No, I am trapped. Trapped in a golden cage with only dull bumbles who want to possess women of standing as if they were accessories for their prevalence-striven plans“ you began to complain, your words gaining speed and intensity throughout the sentence. 

Honest pity flashed behind the pirate's charcoal outlined eyes.

The man had never thought he was capable of pitying those who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths.

And still, there he stood, stricken by the pain in your melodic voice.

You gasped for air, your mind wanting to go on but your throat began to burn on the verge of crying.

“I must behave according to the rules of society, no matter what it is I truly desire. All the poisoned praise goes to my brother while I am only of importance when the subject of my marriage is discussed“.

“Ye brother be the new Governor of Nassau?“ Sparrow eventually asked, his gaze sliding down to where your nails were nervously scratching lines into the wooden railing.

You couldn’t help but scoff in annoyance of his title. “Yes, that be him“. 

The man next to you shrugged his shoulders, the trinkets and charms once again clinking. You would love to find out where he got each of them from.

“I could, in fact, sack Nassau port for ye as soon as I rip me Pearl from Barbossa’s slimy, old hands“ a tad of disgust infused his bold words at the foreign name.

“Jus' a humble offer. What ye say, lassie?“. 

Sparrow was trying to cheer you up.

A small smile began to reign over your lips again, toes curling. “That would only get you killed, fierce pirate“ you noted, trying to sound as judicious and rational as possible.

Instead, he grinned even broader and spread his arms in an eccentric, self-presenting pose. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, luv“ he declared as if it was self-explanatory.

For the first time in a while the sea breeze caught and carried your sincere laughter.

Sparrow’s braided goatee twitched as he found himself biting his lip at the pretty sound and look.

You were a stunning woman in noble clothes with noble blood in your veins but with a spirit as wild and ravenous as his own.

You enthralled him.

“Bring this to my daughter. She shall eat, at least. The Commodore risks too much by rescuing young Turner, he cannot afford to see his fiancé unwell“ Governor Swann’s order suddenly boomed across the main deck, followed by hasty steps of a maid.

Instinctively, Sparrow snaked his hand around your shoulder, across your chest and pulled you back with him.

Out of sight.

His rough hand on your mouth muffled a shrill cry just enough. 

“They thinkin’ yer asleep, eh, Miss Sheffield?“ His voice was lowered, almost just a husk and yet it was filled with this mischievous, flirtatious tone.

God, this man sent shivers down your spine like no other. 

But he was still a lawless pirate.

A prisoner, even.

Suddenly, whyever, the gravity of your situation and the futility of tonight's zeal made you feel how cold and wet the floor was without shoes.

Brown dreadlocks pressed against the back of your head irrevocably disheveled your updo. 

“Asleep, as I should be...“ you muttered, infused with a hint of re-surfacing anger and despair.

You wriggled yourself out of his protective grasp. The pirate's brow was raised, eyes narrowed on your face.

There was a haze of danger and waywardness about Jack Sparrow that made you question your own courage and spirit. 

“Why did I even tell you all that in the first place?“ you exclaimed, hands thrown up. Slowly stepping away from him, you felt all the emotions crushing your mind.

“You most likely do not care, neither do I profit by wailing. It doesn’t bear contemplating...“.

Sparrow wrapped his right hand back around the handle of the helm, looking rather unfazed by the confusion that was spreading in your system like the Portuguese wine in his own. 

Heavy silence and the occasional laughter from the men in the Captain’s cabin mingled with the soft splash of sea water. 

Your feelings were now as erratic as the rhythm of the crashing waves.

“Look 'ere, luv“.

Your gaze was just about to turn from pleading to the usual bored emptiness as you saw his free hand wander down to his leather belt.

A smirk adorned his bearded face when skilled fingers rapidly detached the compass and threw it over to you.

Stumbling slightly as the ship rocked, you caught the brown box before it could hit the ground.

You heard Sparrow mutter a muted “Thank god“ that made you want to snap at him but the gesture was too interesting not to query.

Why would he think you needed a compass?

Fluster painted your features when you met his weirdly satisfied expression.

“Aren’t you Captain Jack Sparrow? Don’t you need a compass for... that?“ You asked with less challenge in your tone than initially planned.

He chuckled beautifully, shaking his head with eyes closed.

“What?“ You probed when his dark gaze began to rise up from the floor, along your figure.

“I may be without me compass but not without heading and a plan“ the pirate finally explained, taking another step closer to the helm “You, contrastingly and tragically, lack both“. 

Your arms came up and crossed defensively in front of your chest.

But his words and the tight corset made you drop them again rather quickly. 

He was right. You had been lamenting about your situation barely three minutes ago.

“So? What exactly is your compass going to change about that, Sparrow?“.

You peered down at the inconspicuous looking box.

“Everythin'.“ Sparrow stated with a touch of mystery. “Listen what ye heart wants and the compass is gonna give ye a heading, savvy?“.

A big part of you wanted to believe what this infuriatingly interesting man promised while another voice was whispering to you how it was literal magic he was implying.

Magic. 

With a hesitant gesture of offering it back to him, you hoped to find out which voice to listen to.

“But you would want it back, right? It is yours after all“ you commented your action with genuine concern and a small smile.

Plus, the fear that Norrington would kill Jack if he couldn’t find the Isla without his compass. 

Captured by the pirate for one last time, you watched his gold teeth flash in a wide grin, his tattooed hand spreading on his chest as a sign of integrity.

He was being honest, you felt it.

“I will be gettin’ it back, luv. Don't ye worry“. 

Before you creeped down the stairs and eventually headed for your cabin to ponder on your heart's desires, the last you saw of Captain Jack Sparrow was a charming wink. 

The last for now, at least.

♡ thank you so much for reading my very first POTC fic ever ♡

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨 𝐡𝐨

@mochie85 @holdmytesseract @socksracoon10 @goldencherriess @chronicallybubbly @kcd15 @always-on-hiatus

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Hello! May I request a headcanon for how Tommy Shelby would pine/crush over a reader maybe one who has rejected him in the past because she worked for him or because she wants to keep their relationship as friends/professional! (Since you’re writing you can make the scenario as to why she said no whatever you like) but truly i’d just love to see a headcanon on him falling in love and longing for someone who he can’t have so easily :)

Imagine Rejecting: Thomas Shelby

Tommy x fem!reader

Trope: Right person, wrong time. Warnings: Angst, pining, toxic romantic tendencies, infidelity.

You worked under him as Lizzie's replacement as his secretary, you saw his books and you knew the red on his suit collar wasn't always lipstick. You went with him almost everywhere, memorized his schedule, and completed small tasks that often caused him headaches. Long hours in the office stopped feeling so lonely. And that's where the trouble started.

When he found himself growing fond of you, he tried to fight it. He really did. But feelings grow over time and before he knew it, he started to see you as a partner. At first, he told himself that you reminded him of Grace. It was easier to tell himself that he was projecting her image onto you. However, there came a point where he couldn't lie to himself anymore.

His eyes would follow you as you left a room. His head would turn upon hearing your voice. The smell of your perfume was enough to give him pause at times. When he was at home, he would sometimes go into his office to call you from your desk in Birmingham. Just to have a conversation, even if it was to go over a detail for a meeting he "forgot."

Tommy confessed his feelings to you one late night at the Midland Hotel. You sat with him at the hotel bar, not a soul around except for the two of you and half a bottle of whiskey. Maybe is was the whiskey that did it, but he took your hand and said: "I've been trying to think of what to do about you. The things that you make me want to feel, make me want to do. It shouldn't be this way, but it is. I want you."

You slowly took your hand from him, and stood. The look in your eyes was enough to make him sober. Quietly, you gave your reply, "I'm going to call for two cars to take us home. I'll see you Monday morning, Mr. Shelby."

Thomas Shelby is not unused to rejection. It hasn't bothered him in years. With you, however, it's different. You aren't a political rival, a gang leader, or a position he's being blocked from obtaining. You are a person. A woman who has denied him access to your heart.

That is very, very different.

Not to mention a blow to his ego. Tommy knows he's attractive, and he knows that most of the women he interacts with are more than a little interested in him. Ladies from poor families see a man that can provide. Ladies from wealthy families see a man of danger that can make them feel alive. You didn't seem to fall into either category. You didn't seem to need him the way most people did.

He wouldn't discuss that night at the Midland with you for several months. When it finally did get addressed, you seemed surprised. Had you assumed he was drunk? It hardly mattered. You tried to turn him down, again "We can't, Tommy."

"Of course we can."

You scoffed, "We shouldn't. You have a wife and two children, and I am merely your employee."

Tommy got closer to you, his eyes caught between staring at your rosy painted lips and the look in your eyes. His fingertips gazed your wrist. It would be so easy to just kiss you. To take you into his arms and just hold you. Did you truly not want him? As he stared you down, the answer was found in the tears that welled in your eyes. No, you were just as sick in the heart as he was.

"Lizzie understands. Or marriage is a partnership, nothing more. We can be as we like, she wants nothing to do with it," Tommy takes your chin in between his thumb and index finger. "Tell me you don't want me, and I'll leave you alone. Tell me that."

Tears stained by your dark mascara roll down your cheeks, a shudder runs through you. "Tommy," you sigh "that's precisely why I'll never give in. I can't live my life as your whore. It's almost as cruel as being your wife."

He let you go. You took two steps back, then left him there. As the door to his office slammed shut, Tommy almost chased after you. But, he didn't. Because you were right.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

YOU HAVE A CAT?! ME TOO?!

She hates me tho :(

---------

Zhongli, Neuvillette and Dottore

With a fox!darling that is always with animals and isn't social at all due to heavy torture in her past and they discover it? 💀

Man I'm in need of some gore rn 💀💀

- Weird anon ✨

i'm so sorry but i just couldn't write neuvillette for this prompt, he's too precious DX

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including being held against will, delusional behaviors, torture, breaking of bones, and other potential topics. Please Read At Your Own Risk!

Yandere!Zhongli sympathizes with you, and since it’s clear that the animals bring you comfort, he allows you to keep a couple when he moves you in with him. He even goes the extra mile and builds a special enclosure so they’ll be just as content as you are, even if you aren’t receptive to his love yet. 

When he finds out about your past, which is inevitable with how overbearing he can be and how good he is at finding out things from the locals, it almost hurts his heart a little. But the more sickening side of him is thrilled because now he knows exactly how to get to you, exactly how to make you his perfect little spouse.

Whether it’s be reintroducing trauma through breaking bones, locking you in a cold, damp room with no lights for hours on end, or even things that border on torture, he’ll use it against you so long as it won’t entirely ruin you. While he wants you compliant to his whims and wishes, he doesn’t want you to be a shell, it would’ve been a waste of his time to break you to that point;

Zhongli would never stop as low as hurting your animal friends, but if need be he could certainly find ways to turn them against you. It’s almost amusing to him, the way you care so much for creatures who you’ll outlive. How you care so much for creatures who don’t even really know you, funny.

The sickening crunch of bone echoes through the room as Zhongli stands over you, the heel of his shoe digging into the freshly crushed bones in your leg. The makeshift gag, a towel from the kitchen, dug into the sides of your mouth as it muffled your screams and cries. The Geo Archon almost feels bad for using his strength in such a brutal manner, but it would all be worth it, at least that was how he justified it to himself. It wasn’t about the now, but rather what now would soon be bringing him. By breaking you down bit by bit, sending you spiraling back into some of the worst moments of your life, he could slowly rebuild your shattered pieces how he saw fit. What use was a puzzle if the pieces weren’t in the correct order, right?

Yandere!Dottore is sick, sick, twisted, and absolutely disgusting. If he wasn’t the cause of your original trauma, you could surely bet he’d be the driving force behind re-traumatizing you. 

Whether he chooses to reenact every step, or to simply do something far worse than what had previously done it all dependent on how he feels that day. Some days will be so similar to your past that you’ll truly feel like you were back there, all those years ago. Other days are so awful it almost makes what happened in your past seem insignificant as if that were a stone among boulders resting on the ocean floor. 

Dottore does think it’s funny though, using it as both amusement and research opportunities. It wasn’t often that animals such as yourself came across his table, so of course he’d taken the prime subject as soon as he’d laid eyes on you.

In his lab, you aren’t seen as anything but a thing that exists only for Dottore’s own gain. If you’re lucky one of his more sympathetic clones might take pity on you and actually give you a day to rest when he’s out of the Palace, but they’re expected to keep up the same treatment he inflicts in his absence.

It was almost sickening to the segments as the watched the fox-human endure soul shaking torture day in and day out. Everything from injections to straight up live surgery to see how much pain the body could take whilst awake had occurred on the cold, steel table. They were often left to clean up the mess, expected to stitch you up, administer antidotes to anything too harmful that had been administered today, and even sometimes bathe you due to the mess that had occurred. You’d been fed little since you arrived, given water only when necessary for your survival, and hadn’t seen sunlight in days- or months maybe? With the sickening way time seemed to pass, you couldn’t tell how long you’d been here. Your only reprieve would be when the doctor left for something more pressing, leaving you in the care of his segments that only sometimes took pity on you. Some seemed to hold a little more humanity than others.

[artists-ally]

I think Harvey would be thw type of person who makes love specially when he’s feeling sad. Like he needs comfort and to be as close to his s/o as possible, fingers intertwined and all that nice shit. How do you think reader would comfort him after he had a discussion with someone of his family?

{Oh, My Human Heart} Harvey Specter x Reader

So my mind went to [SEASON 8 EPISODE 5 SPOILER WARNING] where Harvey went up to Boston to defend his brother against his wife's divorce. That shit crushed my soul man, so this is based on that! Enjoy!! Title is a lyric from this song.

Word Count: 3,191

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, smut, Season 8 Episode 5 Spoilers

Summary: When Harvey returned home from visiting his brother unexpectedly, there is an obvious weight to his shoulders as he slumps inside. And it’s your mission to find out what it is and wipe it from his memory.

Tagging: @kjbg-fantasymoon (your request is next babes <3)

~~~~~~~

The door slammed. Hard. Concerningly hard. 

“Harvey?” You shouted out into the kitchen, taking off the towel from your shoulder and set it on the counter. No one responded. Worry coursed through you, and you grabbed the knife from the cutting board. Just in case. 

Your husband rounded the corner and you jumped, but let the fear drain from your held breath and set the knife down. “Jesus Harvy, you could’ve… hey, what are you doing back here?”

Harvey looked indecipherably pissed. He had hard creases in his face and his lips pressed in that flat line that meant someone was about to see that side of him that meant he was gonna raise hell. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and he let his hands fall to his sides. 

“Okay, okay come sit, love,” You reached for him and guided him to the island. “Do you want to talk about it? A distraction? To be left the hell alone?”

That communication strategy had worked wonders when Harvey came home from a lethal case. All the details you knew about this one involved his brother and a divorce from his wife. It had already shattered Harvey’s heart to hear they were splitting up, but this was… this was rage. Raw fury. 

“I am going to open my mouth and let the floodgates go with it, and I just need you to try and make sense of it. Because for reasons only known by Jesus-fucking-Christ himself can this be possible.”

You just nodded, letting Harvey take some deep breaths. You noticed his hands were shaking. He was shaking. What the fuck happened in Boston?

“Marcus called me up there to represent him for his divorce,” Harvey started, thumbs in his eyes. “He told me that it was because she had an affair. I was ready to go kick down her door and take their kids away myself. Turns out, he lied to me. She was divorcing him because he started gambling again and he told Haley not to tell Katie.”

Your blood ran cold, all remorse leaving your body for Marcus. How could he fucking do that? 

“So, tell me this Yn. Why would my own god damn brother, who I spent my money on to build him a dream restaurant, lie to my fucking face? Not once. Not twice. Four times. Four opportunities he had to tell me and he waited till the last fucking second. I-I can’t even begin to describe how sick it makes me feel to have Haley be put in that position.”

“It is wildly unfair for her, and for their son,” you felt awful for them. They were the sweetest kids and didn’t deserve to have that weight on their shoulders. 

“I mean, was he not apart of the fucking family when mom did that to me? Did he suddenly just show up on our doorstep one night looking for a place to sleep like a stray cat? No, he didn’t. He’s my fucking brother. He was there when mom did it to me. And he saw what it did to our family. What it did to me. He was the one trying to fix our fucking fucked up family. To piece it together after the fall out and he expects me to do the same when he did the one thing worse than practically fucking cheating on her.”

“Harvey I think that's a little-”

“Now he’s destroying his own life. No, not even destroying, destroyed. He has ruined all chances of working things out between him and Katie and honestly, I can’t be fucking bothered to watch it crumble to the ground. And the worst part of it is he had the audacity to ask me to win this case. He doesn’t deserve to win let alone ask me. What a selfish, lying son of a bitch-”

“Harvey,” you placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from walking away. He had been moving around animatedly, now up out of his seat and waving around. “Take a deep breath. Please.”

He did.

“Good,” You smiled softly. 

He took another. And another. “Sorry… just- sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You came and stood in front of him, hands flat on his chest. “Let’s go and get you changed and we can keep talking through it. If you’d like.”

Though Harvey’s eyes were harsh, that anger wasn’t directed at you. You’ve dealt with him like this on more than one occasion, and you’ve learned to recognize the difference. He didn’t dare look at you the way he is now.

After taking his hand and leading him up stairs, you took your time undressing him so he could be more comfortable. Once upon a time he had told you that the feeling of your hands on him could make him forget anything and everything. It was only in your best interest to do that for him now. To calm him so he could see the full picture.

Starting with his tie, you walked to the closet and hung it up in the empty space from where you picked it out this morning. Much the same with the jacket, tossing his still crisp white-shirt in the laundry. He handed you his belt and shoes, and while you put them away, he took off his dress pants and put on sweats by the time you came back. 

“Better?” You asked, placing his hands across your middle. 

He smiled, “Better.” 

Harvey was still sitting, but he rested his forehead against your stomach, just breathing. With calm hands you massaged his scalp and neck, his shoulders and arms. It was important to give Harvey his space at times like this, letting him speak when he wanted. Otherwise he’d just get defensive and shut down. That was not beneficial to either of you.

“I’m so fucking mad at Marcus, Yn.”

“I know, my love. I know,” You spoke softly, kissing the top of his head. “So am I.”

“I just don’t understand how he could do that after what mom did to me. I thought- I thought we were brothers again.” 

His voice cracked, and you could feel the first tear drops soak through your shirt and cool your skin. Your stomach clenched and dropped. You know Harvey and Marcus have been rocky for decades, but since he forgave his mom and started rebuilding their relationship, things naturally got better with Marcus. 

So much for all that hard work. And you had been so proud of him for taking those steps. And you knew the toll it took on him. Now it was all back at square one. 

“I am so sorry, Harvey.”

“What the fuck do I do?”

You paused for a long while. “I don’t know.”

When he looked up at you, eyes all red and bleary, you wanted to fly to Boston and smack Marcus yourself for putting Harvey right back where he was when he was sixteen. He may not have been the one asked to keep a secret this time, but he knows what it’s like to be in that situation. To feel so pinned and powerless. The looming decision of whether he should betray his mom or dad, a constant threat, and either outcome will ruin the family. 

“Are you up for listening to my ideas or do you still need to get things off your chest?” All you got was a shrug and a few spilled tears. “Okay, there’s no rush.”

“I just don’t know what to do, Yn. I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to do. I want to beat him into the dirt the most. I want to hold Haley and tell her that none of this was ever her fault and she is not the one to blame. Goddamn do I want to hug Haley right now…”

You had to close your eyes. You didn’t want to see Harvey in this position, especially because you knew what this did to him. It stirred up all those memories and emotions from decades ago. Now they were all at the surface, controlling every one of his thoughts. And there isn’t a whole lot that you can do to get them to stop.

“I think you’re angry.”

“You’re goddamn right I’m angry,” Harvey huffed, making you let out a weak chuckle. 

“And I also think that I know you when you’re angry. And that you don’t think clearly when you are. So, how about we distract you for a while and then we get some sleep. Then, maybe in the morning, we lay it all out again and go over what we know. Look at all the facts and whatnot. Because, despite your very much warranted anger towards Marcus, he is still your brother. And family means more than anything to you, Harvey. I can’t let you spend the next thirty years in regret for not trying. You owe that to yourself. Not anyone else.”

“I don’t even know where to start with all this bullshit.”

“That’s where I come in,” You smiled, sitting in his lap with one leg on each side of his. “Look Harvey, you have every single right to be upset. I am pissed at Marcus for doing that to Haley. But I will not let this drive another cavern between you and him. The two of you have been through enough. He fucked up, and he knows it because you’re Harvey goddamn Specter and you told him he did. But you forgave him once. And you forgave your mom. It is worth a shot to hear him out, and I’m not saying it has to be right away either. Just eventually.”

Harvey’s brown eyes darted around your face, that tight line still on his lips. When you tilted your head and batted your lashes, he sighed out, nodding. “Okay, okay fine you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” your smile made him finally unclench the space between his brows. “It’s because I’m really good at knowing who you are, and knowing how to approach a situation. You’re good at being a kick-ass lawyer and I’m good at taming that kick-ass lawyer.” “You love it when I let that animal out of the cage,” he smirked, hands stroking down your thighs. 

“If you refer to yourself as an animal in a cage again I will walk out that door and spend the night at Donna’s.”

“Okay okay,” he grinned ear to ear, pressing kisses on your cheek, then down your neck. “I’m sorry for being so… hostile. Thank you, Yn. For calming me down.”

“You’re welcome, my love.”

“I don’t know what it is that you do, but you make it all disappear.”

“It’s my secret,” you whispered, kissing his lips. “And I won’t ever tell.”

“I bet I could make you tell me,” Harvey winked and grabbed around your waist, taking you with him when he leaned back. 

“Oh, is that a fact?” “No, but it is a challenge.” 

He tangled his hand in your hair, bringing your mouth to his. He tasted like whatever cheap whiskey he had on the plane and mint. You let your body form to his and didn’t mind the way his tongue found yours. Harvey’s hands were gentle as they peeled away the cardigan on your shoulders, tossing it away to be picked up later. 

He took his time, slowly stripping you and easing you on your back. You wrapped your legs around his waist and needed to have his mouth on yours again. He was such a good kisser. So thorough and precise with what he wanted to do to you. 

And he was always very thorough. 

Harvey placed kisses down your chest, down your stomach and to each hip.

“Babe-”

“Shh,” he hushed. “Just let me do what I want. You just lay back and look pretty. Fuck do you look pretty, my love.”

Your heart melted. Normally he had a wicked, dirty tongue but tonight was obviously different. He wanted something to focus on, and if that was going to be you, then so be it. You surely weren’t going to stop him from spreading your knees and tucking his head to your core. 

If Harvey could do one thing for the rest of his life, he’d sure have a hard time picking between you and the law. While he loved his work, your mind and body were two things even the high of winning couldn’t compare to. Harvey loved you. Ferociously. With every part of his body he loved you. 

His tongue circled your clit, and your hand went in his hair to keep him there. The laugh that tumbled from him was nothing short of star-seeing. One thing about Harvey is if you weren’t satisfied and thensome, neither was he. He loved making you cum on his tongue, loved how you tasted. 

It wasn’t long before you warned him you were close, and he just hummed into you, vibrations making you arch up off the bed, tugging equally as hard on his hair as you did the sheets beside you. 

“I will never get sick of making you feel good, Yn. I love that I am the one who gets to spend these moments with you.”

“Harvey,” you swooned, cupping his face to bring him back up so you could kiss him. Your scent was strong on his lips and made you only need him that much more. All it took was a few impatient grabs at his shirt to make him take it off so you could finally get your hands on that body of his. 

All that time in the boxing gym surely paid off. 

Harvey brough your knee up and pushed it flat on the bed, pulling the other one around his hip. He pushed in, chest to chest with you as he sat still for a few moments. 

“I love you so much, Yn,” Harvey whispered, thumb training down your cheek, your neck. He slid it all the way down your arm and laced your fingers together, kissing them as he pulled back. He wouldn’t leave your lips alone, not that you wanted that in the slightest. He was all soft words and pleas of desperation. Telling you how good you felt.

It was like your wedding night all over again. When the two of you met, it had been in a fury of hands and tongues. All fast because there wasn’t a second to waste when it finally happened. But on your big day, he laid you down, just like this, and worshiped you all night long. 

Every word from his mouth was just him telling you how much you meant to him, his body seconding that omission. He was so dedicated to you, to making you feel good. It was all long, smooth strokes of his body inside yours, the warmth of your combined breaths. Swallowing each other's noises of pleasure.

“I am so in love with you,” Harvey smiled. “I am so fucking in love with you.”

You couldn’t hide your smile if you tried. It wasn’t rare that Harvey was affectionate– per say– but this was an illusive moment. He wine and dined you whenever you asked, you were always his plus one anywhere in the world. But it was these small, yet enormous moments of intimacy that you cherished the most. This was a side of Harvey that took a very long time to bring to the surface. And he too realized the weight of just taking his time and being soft with you. 

“I love you too, Harvey,” you whispered against his face, his mouth now busy with the side of your neck. Harvey couldn’t keep his hips slow for long, and they snapped to yours. Air pushed out of your mouth and right into his ear, right where it drove him crazy to hear what he did to you. 

“Fuck, my love, if you keep making those sounds this isn’t exactly going to be how I-”

“Now it’s my turn to take care of you,” you responded, locking your ankles together behind his back.

A shiver ran through his shoulders and he dropped to his elbows, hips driving into you faster and faster. Harder. It didn’t take him long to reach his high, fucking you through it. His heart pounded underneath his skin so hard you could feel it. A slight sweat at the back of his head where hair met skin. 

When he lifted his head, his eyes looked less… weighted. He looked much more himself. Muc more like Harvey and a little less like Mr. Specter. 

You mentally patted yourself on the back. 

There wasn’t anything you could do to convince him to not drag you into the shower down the hall. The warmth of the water, the heaviness in your body only made his fingers on your scalp that much better. He kissed all over, giving your ass a loving smack when getting out before wrapping a big towel around the both of you. 

“Promise in the morning that we can do this all again and then I can make you a big breakfast?”

“Only if you promise that there will be sausage and bacon,” your eyes were droopy, but the smile reached them anyway. 

“Good thing Postmates will go to the grocery store nowadays,” Harvey slipped one of his shirts over your head, straightening it out over your body. “You look so adorable in my clothes.”

“I know, why do you think I wear them when you’re gone?” “You wear my clothes when I’m gone?” You pff’ed out some air, “Don’t act like you don’t notice the suspiciously large pile of your laundry in the hamper when you come back.”

“I don’t think you know how happy that makes me, Yn,” Harvey’s smile was nothing short of pure adoration. He was never short on pure adoration when it came to you. 

“Yes I do,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why do you think I do it?”

“Because you know me. Really really well.”

“That I do.”

Harvey breathed out, shaking his head. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for something anyone would do for their husband.”

“Well, in my experience, most wives aren’t nearly as observant or as dedicated as you are, Yn. And I want you to know how much I appreciate you and everything you help me through when I don’t know how to help myself.”

Your eyes melted, much like your heart when he hugged you. Nice and tight and just how you liked them. You always felt impossibly safe with him, and his hugs were impossibly your favorite thing in the world. 

Harvey would listen better in the morning. Especially after a good night's sleep. You just hope that all your efforts will lead him in the right direction. And that direction isn’t the clearest right now, and that’s okay. Both of you know it’s okay to not make a decision as big as something like this.

But you know Harvey will try. And that is all you can ask of him.