#throwing this here to save it for a second

[ovegakart]

Imagine Fierce deity Link being all badass, saving Ganondorfs life and killing the big bad monster.

Ganondorf is messed up to shit, sheltered from death by a super badass last second save where the Fierce deity used his sword to deflect the creatures attack and send it back twice as deadly. Evil plants defeated, Fierce Deity is breathing heavily with blood dripping from him. Ganondorf isn't going to play damsel in distress for Link, even if the big Gerudo dork is seeing popping stars every time he moves. So he asks in an unimpressed manner if Fierce is alright, maybe making a snarky comment on how beat up the fierce deity is looking.

And Fierce just kinda grins like a dork while giving a thumbs up, before tossing his last potion to Ganondorf and cooly stating "Here, as a thanks for throwing me." Making Ganondorf laugh before downing the potion and stating that he'll throw him again for free in five seconds.

But then Links energy craps out, he separates from the masks and collapses in exhaustion. The kid is clearly beat to shit and exhausted, choking on the lingering poison still on the ground... and Ganondorf has an intense internal debate before growling at himself and bringing Link to Gerudo town as a "point of honour, to return a favour." Whatever he comes up with to validate saving his enemy.

But then the Gerudo women fawn all over the child. The poor lil beat up mini warrior. Ganondorfs sisters are smitten with this stray lil kitten. Smug Link shenanigans ensue.

YUSSS THE DRAMA i know where the comics going but this would be another cute alternative

[rikisbaddezire]

─── PU$$Y FAIRY

──── WARNINGS ! semi public sex , , downbad! riki , p in v , his tattoo never fucking gets finished , unprotected sex (ruh roh) , reader is kinda dom and riki is just a dom going with it , reader slaps riki 😭 , swearing , pull out method mentioned

──── a very attractive client ends up fucking you .

─── IT WAS QUIET in the tattoo shop, save for the faint buzzing of the dim lights above. it felt different. just hours ago the place was filled with many clients and multiple coworkers.

y/n let out a soft sigh, her head in her hands. “just 2 more hours.” she mutters to herself.

the store would close by then and she could go home. nobody was here though. her mind was stuck in a mess of refusal. the mess of believing someone would walk through the door the second she was up and ready to leave.

she should just leave, shouldn’t she?

after a few minutes of a silent debate in her head, y/n drags herself up from where she had sat for 45 minutes contemplating whether or not to just leave like it was some sort of life or death situation.

she grabs her bag, pulling out her phone to dial an uber. lo and behold halfway through the doorframe, her body was met with another. she didn’t even look up to start taking her anger out on the person in front of her.

“can’t you see the fucking sign?” y/n hisses. “we’re closed. why does everyone always wait til the asscrack of the night to ruin my fuck—”

her mouth shut the second she looked up at the man. he was chuckling. she was about to faint from how overworked she was and this man had the audacity to laugh at her.

his laugh was adorable. he was adorable. throwing hands was a thought she was starting to consider. it doesn’t matter what he is and how he looks. he’s laughing at her for fucks sake.

“what’s so funny to you?” she snaps out, discreetly checking him out and passing it off as a look of judgement.

his cute little chuckles fade to an amused sigh. the sigh introducing her to his deep voice. the kind that makes her body shiver a bit. “im here for a tattoo is all. i wasn’t expecting a girl to start throwing a tantrum in front of me the second i walk in.”

she manages to angrily snarl out a response despite burning desire she was feeling in her lower half. “i was not throwing a tantrum.”

“do you even know how hard i work?” she adds. “i’ll throw a tantrum when i fucking want to. i dont need some foolish manchild telling me what he thinks is going on.”

his hands raise up defensively. “i’m just here for a tattoo, now may i step in so you don’t get colder than you already look. you’re shaking and everything.”

the man steps into the shop, causing her to step back. “that’s not why im shaking but whatever.” she replies with a slight growl. “where do you want it?”

there was no way he couldn’t have seen the blush on her face as she says that. get a fucking grip she tells herself so fucking dirty minded.

“are you able to do a tattoo on my hip?” the man asks, a bit of nervousness showing on his face as if he knew how weird a request like that was at 10:00 pm at night.

the said request manages to conjure up a dirty and slightly weirded out look from her face, but she agrees to nonetheless. “erm… okay.” the annoyance very clear in her voice.

she was turned around, getting her tattoo supplies ready not knowing that the guy was taking off his shirt and pulling his pants down slightly for his hip to be seen.

“oh my god! what the hell!” exclaimed y/n the second her eyes met with his toned abs and his muscular but slim form. “fuck, you could’ve at least warned me.”

her eyes couldn’t help but wander downward taking a little peak at the happy trail that she could only imagine led to his long, hard cock. throat bobbing as she gulps and grunts out a “get on the seat thing or whatever it’s called.”

damn it. she’s lost her words thanks to her dirty little mind.

as she looks at the design that he wants tattooed, he’s a bit nervous himself with shaky hands and nervous little exhales. it eventually fades as he feels the little needles of ink pierce the thin layer of his skin.

“so, what’s your name?” y/n mutters lowly, trying to distract herself from the fact that a little more of his boxers slip down every time she presses the needles down into his skin.

he’s feeling a bit teasing when she questions him about his name and he looks up at y/n with his sharp, brown eyes. “why do you ask, hmm?”

she gives him a quick glare, but goes back to focusing on the tattoo. “shut up and just tell me your name.”

“riki, what about yours?”

“y/n”

“… thats a really pretty name, not surprising considering your body and you yourself look really pretty.”

she stops in her tracks when those words reach her ears and riki’s eyes are searching hers for any kind of flustered expression.

y/n whimpers as she lowers herself down onto riki’s lap, the tattoo long forgotten. she lets her hips roll in slow little circles, his body moving up and down the table.

“f-fuck you’re tight… h-hold on l-let me loosen you up.” he groans out letting low grunts between each word.

she obliges, going even faster and shaking her head from side to side. “no, you wanted my pussy so fucking take it. tell me i fucking feel so good oh fuck tell me- tell me- you love being inside my wet, tight pussy.”

his eyes roll in annoyance but mid eyeroll his eyes roll back and his head falls back with a thump. a choked moan managing to escape low in his throat. “fuck okay, yeah…”

the room is just a whole mess of pants and moans. her hand eventually moves from his chest to his shoulders that tensed up by her touch.

fuck.

he’s hitting the right spot and he knows that as his hips raise to meet hers with a loud slap. her whines are getting louder and his eyebrows start furrowing.

the sounds coming from his throat, sounding so soft and sweet and she couldn’t help but imagine how beautiful his whines would sound — how he would sound absolutely ruined beneath her.

a sharp slap across his face. “i-i told you to tell me how good you feel inside me, fuck!”

her own actions surprise her but regardless, her hips still kept moving against his involuntarily like its muscle memory to fuck him so well.

riki’s eyes were wide with confusion, but he still listens regardless, barely mustering out the words. “uh shit. you’re- inside me so good, a-ah fuck yeah.”

her hips raise up just barely past his tip and quickly lowers herself back down to bury him in that tight spot deep inside her she didn’t even know she had.

this time y/n isn’t rolling her hips into his, no, she leans down to hold onto the edge of the table right above his head and rocks her hips as if she was the one with a humongous cock.

her moans weren’t moans neither were they whines — she was full on whimpering in his ear.

it was almost like she got even tighter if that was even possible for riki. like her pussy was milking every drop of his precum which probably was more than likely the beginning of his release.

“y-you’re so good for me” y/n whimpers, her hips rutting shamelessly. the pace was uneven, but still felt like heaven on earth. at least, riki believed so. probably because those big fucking tits he’d been eyeing since he walked in here were now bouncing in his face and he was now getting probably the closest he’ll ever get to them.

his voice is ragged through his pants but still didn’t lack the teasing tone, “oh you’re gonna cum, huh? so good i’m making you cum?”

she weakly nods and he groans at how tight her pussy walls wrapped around his cock.

“lemme be on top, ill be s’ good.” he half heartedly begged. “fuck y/n, make you cum so good you’ll be dripping for hours.”

riki raises his hips a little off the table to prove his point and getting so deep inside her that his dick was almost visible in her lower stomach.

her legs spread even more and he took his chance and flipped her over so he was on top. he did so carefully, but still quick enough due to the table being small and very shaky.

yet he still felt it was able to hold the weight of how hard he was about to fuck the shit out of her. his dick was twitching inside that sopping pussy just thinking of it.

she lets out a strangled moan out at the sudden change “r-riki what? i was so—”

“trust me, you’ll thank me later.” he grunted softly as he puts her legs over his shoulder and begins pulling out softly and harshly entering her again.

y/n wanted to protest against it. her mouth was opened ready to argue with him but all that came out were the porniest noises she’d ever made.

“are you this loud with everyone?” he hisses out. “fuck i bet its right there? getting so tight cause i’m being so good for you? yeah, fuck i know it’s right th-there.”

her eyes fluttered shut as soon as he started fucking into her sweet spot “ye-yeah oh shit…”

the already loud noises were getting progressively louder. her body was clenching him and begging for him to finish her off.

her orgasm was approaching. except this orgasm felt like her whole body was getting fucked and she could feel him everywhere.

her mind is blank and all she think about is how fucking good this random man she met an hour ago was fucking her like some sport.

like he was winning an award for his dick.

like his life depended on this.

y/n didn’t even have to say the words

he already knew she was close.

riki leans over a bit to fuck into her harder and slowly let his hips roll into that gushing little spot. “fuck you’re tight.” he grunts into her hair.

just like that.

it all happened in a flash, she didn’t even realize at first but she was coming all over his dick and the sight probably somewhat was riki’s last straw because now he was coming too.

the choked back moan he just let out dragged her orgasm out. “fuck!”

not in her though. on her stomach. the white sticky liquid was all over her lower stomach. all she could do was groan.

“at least you didn’t cum on the table.” y/n spoke out flatly. the afterglow of the orgasm could only let her do so much. she giggles a bit seeing the messed up tattoo.

riki glances at her for a second, “oh yeah, here’s 200 for the tattoo.”

it’s silent for a bit as they clean up before his phone buzzes. she watches carefully as he fishes his phone out from his pocket and he quickly shuts it off “o-oh, i gotta go. it was nice meeting you.”

just like that he’s gone.

she just fucked a complete stranger.

her eyes wander down to the 200 until she notices something on the counter near her. it was a pink sticky note attached to a piece of paper.

no.

it was a cheque for 1000 dollars.

and the note read, “i hope we see each other again someday.”

she was quick to mutter to herself that she didn’t need his charity nor did she want it but what could she do?

y/n quickly gets herself home to look closely the cheque and right at the bottom was his phone number. she dials it in her phone and leaves a text message saying, “i don’t need your charity.”

no response.

and it would stay like that for a while.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi risks it all to save you and finally confessing his true feelings

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,9k

Synopsis: Trapped and injured within the relentless walls of infinity castle, you’re caught between danger and hope. Sanemi fights fiercely to save you, but powerful enemies stand in his way. Just when things seem impossible, help arrives - but can it change your fate? Will you be able to confess your true feelings in the end?

Warnings: language, injury, death, near-death, HURT ANGST OMG, buuuut also fluff, the plot basically has nothing to do with the real plot so feel free to read this if you don't wanna get spoiled

❗No Spoilers for anime only ❗

This took me the whole week so I'd totally appreciate if you leave a little like, comment and/or share 🤍

Adrenaline rushes through your veins like a waterfall, lungs soaking up the burning air around you with such a haste that you feel like choking on it.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Fuck, you were supposed to put an end to this misery when your master sacrificed himself for all hashira, all demon slayers, all humans. You were so close, your blade scratching the surface of none other’s but Muzan Kibutsuji’s skin. Ready to slice, ready to make this your last honourable fight as a demon slayer.

But fate didn’t play out that way. Maybe it was his plan all along to drag all of you into this fly trap, into this madness you’re now free-diving into.

Your mind drifts back to his face. His eyes widened in sheer horror, his hands instinctively reaching out in order to stop you from falling, his lips forming the letters of your name like in slow-motion.

Will you ever see Sanemi again? The wind hashira who seemed to hate every single thing about you when you arrived, who refused to even look at you back then. It wasn’t until you came back severely injured from a mission that he dared to talk with you. How you ended up falling hopelessly in love with that fierce man? Maybe it was the way he always looked up at the sky at night, the way the faintest smile played around his lips when you told him stories about your stories. Or it was the way he looked at you during training sessions when he thought no one’s watching, how he always asked the others about you.

And yet, you never found the courage to tell him about your true feelings. Would Sanemi Shinazugawa like you back, ask you out, fall deeply in love with you, even get into a relationship with you? A vision of a future you could have had runs through your mind for the split of a second. Oh, how wonderful that thought alone is.

You won’t make it out alive of this place, though.

The second your feet hit the ground, you get circled by countless frightful creatures, their teeth ready to sink into your tender flesh. You’ve fought countless demons, so skilled with your sword that you worked your way up to be a hashira. But the sheer amount of energy lurking from the shadows, from each and every alley of this never-ending castle forces you to waver. And the worst part? You’re surrounded by several demon slayers of the lowest rank who freshly passed the final exam.

“Get out of the way…NO!”

Hit after hit, blow after blow. The second you behead one cursed demon, another emerges from the shadows. Your muscles start aching and begging for air, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead turning into a river. You can’t keep up like this forever. Not when you’re all alone out here with some beginners, desperately fighting to keep them alive only to watch in horror as one by one gets killed and eaten alive.

“Sanemi…”

You wipe a tear out of your eye before striking again. No, this is not the time to get sentimental, you can’t afford to think about the things you regret now. You still have to fight, still have to stand your ground, still fulfil your purpose as a pillar-

“It’s useless, don’t you see it?”

The voice slinks through the chaos like perfume on poison - sweet, aromatic and ice cold. You feel like throwing up in an instant, the demons around you disappearing into the walls as if all that fighting from earlier meant nothing. You feel your knees shake, your palms getting sticky, your eyes widen. No, this isn’t a random demon.

The demon who is just inches from your face halts mid-lunge, as if yanked back by invisible strings. Silence falls like a guillotine. You barely manage to stay upright, blade shaking in your grasp, body screaming from every wound you've endured.

And then he appears out of the shadows like an unpromising storm.

The monster with the unmistakably character craved into his eye:Upper Moon Two. The monster with the smile of a saint and the soul of rot. You’ve heard from him. Back in the village where you grew up, it was told that a man just like him lured the young girls away at night with none of them ever returning, with not a single surviving.

He descends gracefully from the beams like snowfall, his colorful fan fluttering open with a soft snap, sending out a breeze tainted with the faint scent of lotus and blood. His bloodstained lips curve into something that might pass for friendly - if it wasn’t so utterly lacking of humanity.

“Oh my,” he giggles, pressing the tips of his fingers to his mouth.

“Look at you. All banged up and still standing? That’s so cute. I love it when they struggle. You’re a hashira, aren’t you? And what a talented one!”

You grit your teeth, tightening your grip on your sword. This isn’t the time to back away, not when who knows how many souls still rely on you, not when you have to revenge all the innocence lives this monster took.

“Upper moon two,” you growl.

He beams, clapping into his hands like an exited child.

“You know me~! I feel so honoured! Though, my name’s Doma and not exactly upper moon two.”

He twirls his fan, eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“Though I must admit, you’re looking less than glamorous. All that sweat, all that blood… Sanemi won’t like that, you know.”

You flinch at the sound of his name out of this brute’s mouth. How does that thing know Sanemi’s name? Did the two of them meet? Just the thought forces your guts back into your throat all over again. No, that’s impossible…But what if it’s not? What if Sanemi’s in great danger himself? How does this thing know is name, that the two of you know each other? Thoughts overturn in your head and make you feel dizzy, you feel like all air is drained from your lungs. No, no, no. This can’t be true.

“How did you get-“

Stop.

You stop yourself from talking any further by taking a shaky breath. Every single word just feeds into his cruel tragedy, just supports this thing’s twisted mind. If you show him too much, you might risk getting Sanemi actually in danger. That this creature knows his name has to mean something after all, right? Maybe…Maybe Sanemi is alive.

He notices your train of thoughts. Of course he does.

“Ohh?”

His grin widens.

“There it is. The little twitch. The little tremble. You don’t even need to say a word. I can see it in your eyes - you’re in love.”

You swing your blade in a final, desperate arc in order to flee, but Doma doesn’t even blink. He tilts his head, steps aside with the ease of a dancer, and catches your wrist mid-swing.

Then twists.

You scream as your sword clatters to the floor. Your knees buckle. He shoves you to the ground with one delicate hand, planting his foot between your shoulder blades and grinding you into the cold stone floor.

“I hate it when people don't just accept their fate,” he comments sweetly, pressing down harder.

“But you’re lucky, my dear. I’m feeling… playful tonight.”

You push against him, biting back a sob as pain shoots through your chest. No, no, no. This isn’t supposed to happen, you aren’t supposed to get trapped by this monster. Fighting until your last breath, making sure this thing suffers until you take your last breath, punching out of him where Sanemi is right now.

Sanemi…What would he say, seeing you lying on the floor like this? Would he be disappointed in your lack of defence? Is he still alive, maybe even searching for you?

“Oh, don't cry yet,” Doma coos, crouching beside you.

His hand glides gently along your jaw and wipes a single falling tear away -  a mockery of tenderness.

“I want you alert when he sees you. It wouldn’t be fun otherwise.”

A freezing sensation begins to creep across your limbs, his blood demon art seeping into your skin, flesh, bones. You try to scream, try to get him off you, but your breath catches in your throat as ice blooms across your arms, your ribs, your legs. Thin, glass-like lotus petals wrap around your joints and spine, slicing just deep enough to bleed.

“F-fuck… you…” you gasp, teeth chattering.

“Language! Tsk. You hashira really have no manners.” He leans closer, now whispering against your ear.

“Do you think Sanemi will kiss you when he sees you like this? Or will he vomit at the sight of what I’ve done to you, your puny figure unable to fight? Oh my, how he screamed for you, how he searched every corner while shouting out your name like a maniac. When I saw you standing there I knew exactly you’re the one he’s looking or!”

You tremble harder. Not from the cold this time, but from helplessness. From knowing that you’ve fought your hardest and it still wasn’t enough. From getting used as a bait for Sanemi. You’re going to die in this cursed place. Or worse – Sanemi will lose his life because of you.

Doma’s smile fades for a moment, replaced with something… emptier.

“It’s such a waste,” he murmurs, tracing a finger down your frozen cheek.

“I would’ve turned you into such a beautiful demon.”

Then the smile returns, wider, cracked at the edges.

“But this way is much more entertaining.”

He steps back, arms spread, admiring his work. You’re locked in place, on your knees, bound by glistening ice and glass-like lotus vines. Blood drips steadily from where the shards cut into your skin.

“I’ll leave you here,” he chirps.

“Right where he can find you. Right where he’ll break.”

And with that, he vanishes in a flurry of frost, laughter echoing down the halls like a child skipping through a graveyard.

You're alone.

Frozen, bleeding, heart pounding like a war drum. And as darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, all you can do is whisper, begging into the cutting darkness

“Sanemi… please… don’t come.”

Because if he sees you like this — if Doma gets to him the way he just got to you - you won’t be the only one who’s destroyed. And you can’t afford to lose him, not when he already went to way through much, not when there’s still so much unsolved in his life. He needs to talk things out with his brother, needs to visit his family home, needs to find his inner peace. He cannot risk all those things for some like you.

Someone who wasn’t even able to tell him about their true feelings.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Me? I was just…looking at the sky,” you shamelessly lied.

“You’re tolerable.”

Your eyes widened in utter surprise despite the poor-lit night sky while he carefully avoided your gaze at all costs.

“I mean barely. But you’re the only one I don’t hate spending time with.”

“Oh…Well, I don’t hate spending time with you as well.”

Awkward silence, blood rushing through your ears while your heart threatened to give in.  

“What I mean is…”

He took a deep breath, his piercing eyes met yours. And for a second, you felt like everything else in the world was meaningless. The chirping of insects in the background, the howling of a wolf nearby, the dim light on the moon.

None of it mattered. Only the way his eyes found yours: raw, full of something unspoken.

“You mean something to me, got it? Like, I don’t know if things would be this bearable if you weren’t around, (y/n). I kinda…like you.”

“You…like me?”

Silent tears stream down your eyes. If you only had told him back then when he showed you his own emotions this raw and intense. Maybe things would have gone differently, maybe you wouldn’t have to die filled with regret and sorrow. What does it feel like to hold his hand, to fall asleep next to him, to sit opposite to each other during breakfast? Would the two of you argue a lot, is he a good kisser?

“(y/n)?”

And that voice. That oh so familiar voice that haunts you in your sleep, make you wonder, makes you long for more.

“(y/n)!”

Maybe you’ll be able to hear him again if you close your eyes, if you allow yourself to slip away-

“Are you deaf, dumbass? Wake up!”

Your eyes dart back open in an instant when a sudden warm rushes through your veins.

Lavender, fierce eyes you’d recognize in a lifetime.

No.

You want to laugh and cry at the same time, want to throw yourself around his neck, tell him how you feel, how you imagine your future to look like with him.

But all happiness dies down in your throat. Because this is a trap and Sanemi ran straight into it in order to save you.

“You…have to go.”

The words feel so wrong that you almost choke on them. Truth is, you don’t want him to leave, you don’t want to die out here alone. But you can’t afford to lose him. If there’s one person who just has to live on, it has to be him.

“Going? Are you stupid or something? I’m not leaving you here. Who did this to you-“

“You have to go”, you press out, sharper this time.

Sanemi’s eyes narrow dangerously while he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. His face is close, too close, and you see the blood, the panic, the heartbreak swimming in his lavender eyes.

“You think I care?” he hisses, voice low and shaking with barely-contained rage - not at you, never at you - but at the state you’re in. At himself, maybe, for not being faster.

“You think I give a damn if this is a trap? That bastard’s not taking you from me.”

Tears you can’t stop fall silently down your cheeks.

“Sanemi… Please. If he hurts you…If you die because of me…”

He scoffs, but the sound cracks in the middle. His jaw clenches so hard that it looks like it might snap any given minute.

“Because of you? I’ve survived because of you. Every damn day.”

His hand leaves your chin to brush your frozen cheek, gentle despite the way his knuckles are torn open. You flinch at the contact, more from shame than pain. You’re bleeding, bound, broken, but he looks at you like you’re whole. Like you matter.

“You stupid, stubborn idiot,” he murmurs, forehead pressing softly against yours.

“I never said it, never had the guts. But I need you to hear me before I do something reckless…Which I will, by the way, so get ready.”

You let out a shaky laugh through your tears, and that alone gives him the courage to go on.

“I like you…Hell, I love you, alright? I’ve loved you since the night you went on that mission without backup and came home half-dead. You scared the shit out of me.”

You try to speak, but he shushes you with a hand cradling your jaw, thumb gently brushing under your eye.

“I know I’m messed up. I’m not good at this. But I know what I feel. I know you’re the only person who ever made me think this life was worth living outside of a fight. I’d burn this whole goddamn castle down just to see you smile again.”

A sob escapes you, raw and soft.

“You don’t have to say that just because I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying,” he interrupts immediately through gritted teeth.

“Not on me. Not tonight.”

Sanemi pulls back slightly, eyes scanning the lotus vines laced across your body, their razor-sharp edges digging deep into your wounded flesh. He draws his katana from his belt and without hesitation begins cutting through the ice.

“Wait, Sanemi, it’ll hurt-” you protest, but he only snarls.

“Then bite me if you must. But shut up and let me get you out.”

Bit by bit, he works through the vines, even when they slice his hands open. Blood trickles freely from both of you, mixing on the stone below, but neither of you care. The pain is secondary to the sheer urgency in his movements. The desperation to free you.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he mutters.

“When I couldn’t find you after the trap, when no one knew where you were…I swear, I lost my mind. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All I could think about was… what if I never got to tell you?”

You blink up at him, your voice barely a whisper.

“And now?”

He frees your right arm, carefully pulls you forward into his chest.

“Now I’m here. You’re here. And I’m not letting you go.”

Despite everything, the blood, the cold, the fear, you melt into him, allow yourself to get devoured by his presence. His arms wrap around you, shielding you from a world that’s tried so hard to break you. And for one fragile, fleeting moment, you feel safe.

“I love you too,” you whisper into his shoulder.

“I’ve loved you for so long it hurts.”

His breath catches. Then he leans back just enough to cup your face again, and presses a kiss to your forehead - soft, worshipful, lingering like a promise.

“Good. Then don’t you dare die on me, alright?”

You nod, even as tears streak down your face.

And then, in a voice just barely audible-

“Stay. Stay with me, (y/n). I’ll get us both out. I swear it on everything I am.”

And you believe him.

God, despite everything that happened in this castle, you believed him.

Until you came straight back to reality. The second your heart dares to believe, the air turns sharp.

The temperature drops again, biting into your exposed skin. The moment of warmth, of safety in Sanemi’s arms, is ripped away as a gust of wind howls through the corridor…No, not wind.

Laughter. High-pitched. Delighted. Deranged.

Sanemi freezes, pulling you protectively behind him as frost begins crawling once more along the stone floor. His katana is instantly up, lips curled into a furious snarl. You know that look - he’s seconds from losing all control.

“Ahhh~ what a touching little reunion!”

Doma sings, his voice echoing from all directions at once. God, you feel so sick that you threaten to throw up right here on the spot. But you have to stay focused, have to stay put.

“Show yourself, coward,” Sanemi barks into the darkness.

“Oh my,” Doma’s voice giggles again, closer now.

“So aggressive. But look at you! Look at that desperation, that trembling rage! You love her, don’t you?”

He materializes from the wall like a ghost, elegant as always, as if he weren’t the nightmare that just tortured you moments ago. His fan flicks open again, casting little flurries of snow into the air like confetti.

“Didn’t I say it would be beautiful?” he muses.

“You, kneeling in blood. Him, carving through his own flesh to reach you. Ohhh, it’s all so delicious.”

Sanemi doesn’t answer. He doesn’t move.

He erupts like a volcano.

In an instant, he’s on Doma, blade a haze of silver light and howling wind. The collision is thunderous. Doma’s grin never falters, he parries with his fan, their bodies a blur of movement too fast for the eye to follow. You scramble backward, gripping your injured limbs, heart slamming against your ribs as you watch Sanemi unleash everything he is. No, you can’t keep up with their speed, it’s impossible.

Every slash is personal. Every strike filled with something more than fury. It’s love, it has to be.

Doma blocks a particularly vicious blow.

“Ohhh, so predictable! You’re fighting so hard for someone already broken.”

“You touched her,” Sanemi growls, voice low and venomous.

“You hurt her.”

“Yes,” Doma sighs, eyes briefly fluttering closed in delight, “and you should have heard her scream.”

Sanemi roars and hurls himself forward again, faster now. His attacks become erratic, wild. You try to call out, to tell him to stay sharp, to not fall into Doma’s rhythm - but your throat is raw, the ice still clinging to your ribs.

Then, a flash of blood. A cry escaping your lips, watery eyes darting open.

Sanemi staggers back, a deep gash running across his shoulder. Doma winks at you, mockingly licking blood off his fan.

“Mmm,” he purrs.

 “Spicy.”

“SANEMI!” you scream.

“I’m fine!” he barks over his shoulder, panting.

 “Just stay down!”

“Is that really wise?” Doma titters, dancing to the side.

 “She’ll freeze again soon. My lotus vines are quite clingy. They always come back to the ones they love~”

As if on cue, you feel it creeping up your ankles, cold and glassy. You gasp and try to move, but the frost is returning, blooming across the floor like ivy. Sanemi notices instantly, panic flashing across his features.

“NO!”

He starts toward you, only for Doma to stop him mid-sprint, driving a knee into his ribs and sending him crashing into the wall. The stone shatters beneath the impact. You scream his name again, struggling to move, but your limbs betray you. The vines are faster this time, more merciless, digging into your flesh with cruel precision.

Doma approaches you slowly now, graceful as a god, fan resting on his shoulder like a priest’s staff.

“You see?” he whispers, crouching beside you again.

“It doesn’t matter how strong your beloved is. You’ll always be weaker. Always in the way.”

“You don’t know a thing about love,” you spit.

Doma tilts his head.

“Oh, I do. I adore watching it die.”

He’s about to reach for you again-

Until a  howl cuts through the air.

The ground trembles. Doma turns, momentarily confused. And then Sanemi is there.

Covered in blood. Radiating murderous intent. His eyes burning brighter than the sun. He’s no longer the composed Wind Hashira. He’s become the very storm itself.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t warn. He lunges, faster than even Doma anticipates. And his time, the blade bites.

A chunk of Doma’s shoulder is sent flying. His expression falters, not pain, but genuine surprise. He stumbles back, clutching his arm, smile slipping into something far more dangerous.

“Ohhh, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

Sanemi doesn't answer. He glances toward you, just once and then returns his focus to Doma, his stance lower, more grounded. Controlled again. Deadly.

“This is where you fall. You don’t get to touch her again.”

“You’re pathetic, don’t you think? You’ll never be able to beat me, you little fool.”

You feel it before Sanemi is able to react any further. The vines pushing their way all the way through your skin, your flesh, your bones. Your body feels like exploding from the inside, the warmth of your blood a stark contrast to the cold that soaks through your limbs. It’s like he drains every drop of life out of you with each passing second. At this point, you aren’t even able to scream anymore, let alone stand. All you do is allowing your knees to finally give in while staring blankly at Sanemi’s broad back.

Is this it? The end of the story, the tragedy of your life? Dying in a castle full of demons with your love risking his very own life to save your lost one. If you’d only be able to say something, to tell him to leave you behind, to never look back, to save his own life.

But all words die in your throat in an instant, all air is drained from your lungs.

“Don’t worry, (y/n). I’ve got this.”

Suddenly, the sweet trace of wisteria overlayers the thick scent of iron in the air, calms down your tingling nerves out of instinct.

Are you hallucinating? Are you imagining this? After all, there is no way that she’s here right now. You didn’t even see her coming here in the first place, didn’t call for her.

No, it’s impossible that the insect pillar Shinobu Kocho is here.

“This will make you feel better. And now relax, I will do the rest.”

A warm hand on your shoulder, a burning sensation rushing through your veins…And the vines relief your flesh from their fangs in an instant.

You try to protest, but your voice slips away before it even forms. Your body won’t obey, your limbs feel heavy, as if gravity itself is pulling you down. You struggle to lift your head, but the world tilts and blurs. You want to fight, to shout, to beg Shinobu to get out of here, but all you can do is watch helplessly as she approaches upper moon two and Sanemi calmly.

Her eyes lock immediately onto Doma and Sanemi. You see the flicker of tension in Sanemi’s jaw tighten, the sudden recognition of the insect pillar creeping across his face.

“Sanemi,” Shinobu speaks up, voice steady and low, “you have to leave with her. Now.”

Sanemi’s eyes dart between you and Shinobu, conflicted. Him, leaving with you? Oh, how much he’d want to do that, how his body urges to keep you safe. But leaving Shinobu here means risking her very own life. No, he can see it in your eyes, the silent plea to turn down her offer.

“I’m not leaving you here,” he mutters, voice rough with the weight of the choice he’s forced to make.

“Not alone.”

You catch the fierce worry in his gaze and your chest tightens. You want to tell him it’s okay, that you will be fine - but your mouth won’t move.

Shinobu shakes her head, calm but insistent.

“I can handle him. You have to take her away, or none of us survive.”

Sanemi’s fists clench, knuckles white. He steps forward, close enough that you feel the heat radiating off his skin.

“I won’t abandon you,” he growls.

“You have to,” she replies, voice steady.

“Promise me you’ll come back, then. (y/n) won’t allow me to leave you if you don’t.”

His eyes search hers, the storm of doubt and determination raging inside. After a long moment, she finally nods, slow and unwilling.

“I promise.”

From the shadows, Doma’s voice breaks the silence, cold and mocking.

 “Ah, the insect pillar. I was wondering when you’d show up again. I recognize you, I love that haori on you!”

Neither of them flinch. The air thickens with something unspoken - history, pain, danger, something you can’t quite name. Your eyes are stilled locked onto Shinobu’s back when your vision slowly but surely starts to get blurry, your limbs growing to feel heavier and heavier with each passing second.

The last thing you notice are his strong arms that pick you off the ground. And before your eyes go blank, you glance back at Shinobu, who meets Sanemi’s gaze with fierce resolve and a silent nod.

Then, everything turns black.

Sanemi.

Your eyes dart open, lungs aching for air so desperately that you are forced to cough. Where are you? What happened?

Your heart flutters in your chest. The castle, the death surrounding you, the vines, your own blood being the only thing keeping you warm, Sanemi-

Oh god, Sanemi.

Frantically, you tear on the blanket that covers you, trying to get up despite every fiber of your being pushing against it. Where is he? Is he alright? What happened after you lost consciousness? He has to be alright, he has to be right here with you. And what about Shinobu?

“Oh my, don’t push too hard already. It sure took long enough to stitch you up, dear.”

When your glossy eyes find hers, all feelings that built up snap.

“Shinobu you…you really made it out,” you cry out, grabbing the insect pillar by her haori.

The scent of wisteria, the comforting feeling of her tiny frame pressed against yours, her low chuckle radiating straight to your bones. You didn’t really have time to think about the possibility that she might not be able to make it out. And yet, seeing her safe and sound fills you with so much joy that you start crying like a baby.

Shinobu doesn’t pull away as you clutch her haori with trembling fingers, your tears soaking into the fabric. Instead, she lets you cry, small and fragile in her arms, the way only someone who’s been broken open and stitched together againcan.

You feel her hand smoothing your hair, gentle and rhythmic, like she’s lulling a child to sleep.

“I didn’t think… I thought…,” you choke, unable to finish the sentence.

“I know. It was close. Too close,” she mutters softly.

The room smells of herbs now, faint and clean, masking the iron trace that still clings to your senses. Everything feels foggy, your limbs heavy, your vision still swimming, but the warmth of her hand keeps you grounded, remind you that you’re here, that you’re alive.

“You used... the serum?” you manage to rasp, your voice barely a whisper.

Shinobu nods against your temple.

“An experimental strain. Wisteria compound with aggressive cellular regeneration. I had it ready. Just in case…I’m glad I did.”

You blink through the haze.

“And Doma?”

A quiet breath leaves her lips, one that feels older than she is.

“Gone.”

Her voice is calm, but something in it cracks on that word. Not visibly, not dramatically, but enough for you to notice in your state. You know her too well not to notice.

You sit in silence for a long moment. The weight of what’s been lost and what’s barely been saved hangs between you like morning fog. You don’t dare to bring up Sanemi now. Not when it’s clear that Shinobu needs that hug as well, not when she was the one who was ready to risk her life for yours. But would she tell you right here on the spot that he’s okay? Would she tell you that he didn’t make it? What…What if he’s long-gone already, what if the relief your feeling right here and now is nothing but a brutal lie to yourself?

Something claws at your chest, sharp and panicked. Your head snaps up. No, you can’t take it anymore.

“Shinobu” your voice cracks, panic flaring through your chest, “Sanemi…where is he?”

Shinobu pulls back slightly to look at you, her violet eyes warm, but shadowed. Her silence stretches a heartbeat too long for you to endure.

“Is he okay?” you whisper.

Her lips press into a line before they soften again.

“He’s alive.”

Your chest collapses with a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. A sob bubbles out of your throat, this one less desperate but more grateful.

“But…” you murmur, and Shinobu nods gently, already knowing what you’ll ask.

“He’s been sitting outside this room for 12 hours straight. He refused treatment this whole time until you woke up. Said he wouldn’t leave until he saw your eyes open.”

You try to sit up again, instinct dragging your body forward, but Shinobu gently steadies you with a hand to your shoulder.

“He’s hurt. But not enough to keep him down. You know how he is.”

You nod, biting your lip, eyes already welling again. This time, not from fear.

From relief.

“Can I see him?” you ask, voice small.

Shinobu gives a soft smile.

“You don’t even have to ask. He’ll scold me as soon as he finds out I’ve been talking to you first anyway.”

She rises, steps quietly to the door and says only one word.

“Sanemi.”

Sanemi doesn’t burst in like gust of wind as usual, doesn’t storm to your side.

He appears in the room like a ray of sunshine, gentle in a way you’ve never seen before.

His white hair is a mess, tangled and damp with sweat. Bandages wrap around his torso and across one shoulder, stained faintly with crimson, but his eyes, god, his eyes. Wild and feral, scanning you like he’s still not convinced you’re real, like if he blinks too long, you might vanish again.

You sit up a little more, and that’s all it takes for the both of you.

In two strides, he’s at your side, dropping to his knees, hands hovering like he’s afraid you’ll break apart at his touch.

“I…” he breathes, but the words choke in his throat.

Your hand reaches for his first, taking in the warmth of his fingertips brushing against yours, the minor shaking.

“I’m okay,” you whisper, voice hoarse.

The moment your fingers brush his, the dam shatters. Sanemi folds into you, head bowing as he leans forward, gripping your hand with both of his. His forehead rests against your lap, and his shoulders quake with emotion he never lets anyone see - except you in this very moment.

“You’re not okay,” he growls low, like he’s scolding the world.

“You almost died. You almost…” He cuts himself off with a shudder.

“I didn’t know if I’d get to you in time. I didn’t know if I’d make it out…”

“But you did,” you interrupt, your free hand trembling as it slides into his hair. “You got to me. You saved me, Sanemi. I owe you my life.”

He lifts his head finally, eyes red-rimmed but blazing with something fierce and unwavering. And then, slowly, almost reverently, he cups your face in his hands, rough fingers cradling your cheeks like you’re the most fragile, precious thing in existence.

“I thought I’d never hear your voice again,” he murmurs, thumb brushing away a tear that slips down your face.

“I thought I’d never get to tell you this properly. That I love you. That I’ve loved you since the moment you punched me during training for being an asshole. Since you came back in fucking pieces from that mission.”

A watery laugh escapes your lips, your heart swelling to the brim.

“You were being an asshole.”

“And you were the only one who didn’t take it,” he breathes, almost smiling.

“You looked me in the eye and made me feel. And I hated it. Until I didn’t.”

You let out a broken little sound, overwhelmed, heart bursting at the seams. Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him closer. God, will he ever be close enough?

“Come here,” you whisper.

And he does.

He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. Then his lips, soft and worshipful, find yours like they were meant to. Not rough. Not desperate. But deep and slow and full of every word he can’t say aloud.

When he finally pulls away, his breath is ragged.

“You scared the shit out of me, you know that?”

“I know,” you smile, tears streaking down your cheeks again.

“But I’m here.”

“You’re here,” he echoes like it’s a prayer.

“And I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulls you gently into his arms, mindful of your wounds, wrapping himself around you like a fortress. You bury your face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him - sweat, blood, rain, and home.

“I’ll keep you safe now,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I swear it. As long as I live.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you believe it.

You believe him.

It’s over.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @vrystalius @sanemifucker @blunderland

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

Sup fam - 🦊 here:

An idea for Hysteria (on any fic really idc): bondage. Like Bucky gets caught and tied up - normally (this is important). Operative comes in and rescues him and while Bucky is talking with the Thunderbolts* about what went wrong or what happened he sees Operative studying the ropes. Bucky gets an uneasy feeling…

A few nights later (gotta lull him into a false sense of security, like hey man I’m just checking the tensile strength don’t worry about it) Bucky wakes up in the middle of the night naked and bound up in shibari-style ropes. (Don’t worry about how, it’s Operative and he’s crazy.)

The twist in my head? Operative is fully-clothed. Like almost overly so: like turtleneck, fatigue pants, boots…just to RREEEAAAALLLLYY emphasize the power dynamics. Aaaannnddd you take it from there ❤️

Hope it helps!!

- 🦊

hey! thank you so much :) the way i did it was actually a little different from this BUT i hope you still enjoy :p

+18 mdni! hysteria; a fic where bucky's unfortunate enough to run into a feared mercenary, which ended up being you.

cw: dom!reader, sub!thunderbolts*!bucky, arguing, mentions of the thunderbolts*, reader argues with bucky, yelena puts reader in a headlock, implied suicide (?), hostage situation, porn with plot (shocking), bondage, shibari, use of toys, multiple orgasms (fully clothed)

word count: 4.2k

[1] [2]

!! @swiftie-fault

-------------------------------------------------------

the room was dim, and quiet. your body wakes before your mind does, and blurry outlines form. you’re breathing, which is already a disappointment. the ceiling above you was way too blank, a machine was humming softly at your side. take a deep breath, only to be met with a sharp pain in your side. everything ached.

your fingers twitch against the sheets, and you realise something’s wrong. time has passed, you’ve been out.

the confusion settles over your thoughts, and then you turn.

it was bucky.

he was sitting there, unmoving. his face was drawn tight, shadows under his eyes.

you remember, suddenly, the last time you saw him this close. it was a month ago, before everything exploded between the both of you, before you cared too much, before you said too much, and he said just enough.

‘you don’t get to decide i’m worth something.’ a pause. ‘you shouldn’t care.’

the words echoed in your mind like a bitter aftertaste.

your thoughts were cut short when bucky stirs.

the moment he saw you awake, the tension in his shoulders, and jaw vanished like smoke.

“..you’re still here.” you speak first.

“didn’t think you’d want to wake up alone.”

“didn’t think i wanted to wake up at all.” you regret saying it the second the words leave your mouth.

bucky’s jaw clenches.

“go home, i don’t need a caretaker.” you turned your head away from him.

“i’m not your nurse.”

“then what are you?”

silence.

you expected him to throw some motivational, life-changing speech at you, maybe scold you for being a fucking idiot.

“you should’ve left me there.” you continued.

more silence followed.

you see the flicker of something behind bucky’s eyes, it didn’t matter to you anyway. if he wanted you to stop caring, then you’ll give him more-than-enough reasons to hate you. you’ll make it easier for him.

“it would’ve saved everyone the trouble.” you paused. “it would’ve saved you the trouble. you didn’t have to play hero.”

his brows furrow, and that’s when you settle back into your bed.

“i wanted to disappear into the noise, because no one listens to static.”

his breath hitches, and only then do you realise, you shouldn’t have said that, not out loud.

your mouth betrays you anyway, leaking the truths you’ve buried under your sarcasm and wittiness.

then bucky speaks, finally.

“you always do this.”

you blink.

“i watched you come back every night more empty than the last, and you really thought that was strength?”

and that cuts too deep, deeper than you would’ve liked.

your breath hitches, and you look down. you tensed, trying to hide the shake in your fingers. you can’t cry, not here, not in front of him. you were supposed to be colder than this, you were supposed to make him hate you.

“..i didn’t ask you to save me.” you whispered.

“no, you didn’t. you never do.” he pauses, and leans forward slightly. “that’s the damn problem.”

you flinch, but bucky continues.

“you want people to think you’re impossible to love, so you wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that you care too much.”

your throat started to burn, but you tried your best to push it down.

“are you done psychoanalysing me, bucky?”

bucky exhales, sharp, frustrated, but he wasn’t backing down.

“i made the call to put you under, because i knew you’d fight it. you’d push past the pain, keep working until you dropped again.”

your eyes widen.

“so yeah, i made that goddamn decision, because i care, whether you like it or not.” he continued, voice cracking on the last syllable.

you look away again, biting your tongue, but he sees through your act.

he sees the way you’re trying so hard to not fall apart right in front of him. he knows soft words won’t save you, so he steps in harder.

then, you snap.

“why do you care? when you told me i shouldn’t!”

“i was scared of what i felt. so i said something cruel, and cowardly.” he steps closer to the bed. “but that doesn’t mean i wanted you gone.”

“i didn’t ask you to bring me back, bucky.”

“you don’t get to pretend any of this doesn’t matter, that you don’t matter.”

silence. you don’t even know how to respond.

“i’m not letting you walk out of this goddamn room thinking you should’ve died!”

your shoulders shake, just barely.

“you’ve made it clear, a long fucking time ago. you didn’t want me to care, so congratulations, you fucking got it.” you shifted.

“..you don’t mean that.”

“don’t i?” you let your words hit him like knives. “i don’t care what you do anymore, who you save, who you become. you could be fucking dead, and i’d have the best sleep of my life.”

that hurt bucky, you see it in the tiny flinch.

silence.

“you don’t get to throw yourself into death like it’s some tragic exit scene.”

“oh, fuck off with that righteous psych shit, bucky.” you said dryly.

“that’s not how this ends.”

“you think you know me?”

“i know the type.”

“that's not how this ends? well, why the fuck not, bucky?!” you shout, weakly, but furious. “what the fuck do you know about how it ends for me?!”

“because i’ve watched too many people die to let you become just another body!”

“i am a body!” you yelled, and stood up, barely.

then you lunged forward, and swung. your fist lands against his shoulder, sloppy, but full of rage. you swing, again, and again.

“you don’t know a fucking thing about me!”

“sure i do. you’re looking for a way out that looks like a job well done.”

you freeze, then punch him again.

“fuck you. fuck you for dragging me back, bucky! you weren’t supposed to see all this!”

bucky takes it, every punch, every shove. he doesn’t flinch, and he definitely doesn’t soften. he just stares you down like he’s not afraid of anything inside you.

that’s what pisses you off the most.

you shove him again, and that’s when the door swings open, and yelena steps in.

“everything alright-”

“let him, yelena-”

“not a chance.” she’s across the room in seconds. she grabs your arm, and yanks you away from bucky.

then your instincts kick in. you body moves on its own, a blur.

you reach for the nearest thing. your hand slips around the grip of something familiar.

a blade, from yelena’s utility belt.

you don’t think, just reacted.

“let me the fuck go, belova!”

“don’t-” before bucky could stop yelena, she was already on you.

yelena slammed her forearm against your throat, dragging you to the ground in a headlock. your arm was pinned, and twisted until the blade dropped from your hand, and clatters to the floor.

“you’re not fucking special, operative. you pull a blade on me again, and i’ll break your fucking neck.”

“i didn’t- i didn’t mean to-”

yelena let you thrash for a bit more, before you went unconscious. then the others entered the room, they stared you down, and realised what was going on.

now the room was fucking quiet. the second your body went limp in yelena’s arms? everyone stops moving. no one breathes. because for a second, they thought that they had held you down for too long.

but then you let out a shallow, ragged breath. you were alive, just unconscious.

“breathing. pulse’s shit, but he’ll live.” she doesn’t say more, doesn’t apologise, just rubbed her wrist like it was no big deal, and stepped back.

but everyone saw it, the way her jaw clenched, and her eyes? shaken.

“no cuffs.”

john grimaces.

“you sure? that was a pretty close call.”

bucky just nods.

—

a little while later, you’re lying in a re-secured bed.

everything was the same, except for the fact that everything sharp was gone.

you wake up like you’re being dragged out of the water. your head pounded, and your mouth was dry. your eyes open slowly, and for a moment, everything was quiet. you thought, maybe they finally decided to give up on you.

until you hear a sigh.

bucky. he’s still here.

you don’t say anything at first, just shifted. you’re sore, your throat hurts, and you feel like you’ve been turned inside out.

“i wasn’t trying to kill anyone.” you mutter, voice hoarse.

“you weren’t trying not to, either.”

you inhaled sharply.

“i didn’t mean to grab it.”

“i believe you.”

“you weren’t supposed to see that.”

bucky scoffs.

“you think you’re the first one who broke like that? you think i haven’t? you want to end it? fine. but not on my watch, not in the middle of this team.”

he turns away, and you sat in stunned silence.

for once, he walks out first.

—

you get cleared on a quiet sunday morning.

the nurse doesn’t make a fuss, just handed you a form, and walks off like you didn’t try to gut yourself 3 nights ago.

you don’t say thanks, just swing your legs off the bed, and stretch. the pain’s dulled now, bruises fading. you feel more like yourself again.

you walk around the medbay, before hesitantly exiting.

you don’t walk into silence.

instead you walk into a game of cards in the common room.

yelena’s swearing, john’s losing, ava’s surveying the game from the corner of the couch, alexei’s drinking, bob’s trying to learn the rules of the game.

you stop in the hallway, just watching.

then bucky turns, sees you, and just gives you a small nod.

you nod back, and that was enough.

—

you slide back into missions way faster than expected. a little limping, a few winces, but nothing stopped you.

“hey bucky. what if i kill everyone in this building, but leave one witness, does that still count as stealth?”

“are you seriously asking me this when we’re infiltrating a heist right now?”

“what if i kill the witness last?”

“shut the fuck up.”

—

post mission, you’re on the sparring mat.

“come on ava, hit me. pretend i said you looked better with long hair.”

ava nearly took your fucking head off.

“god, you’re hot when you’re mad.”

bucky walks by.

“maybe pick on someone who doesn’t actively fantasize about killing you.”

“that narrows it down to exactly.. no one on this team.” you winked.

—

john is cooking, attempting to.

you steal a sausage from the pan.

then another.

then a third.

“touch one more, and i will chop your hand off.”

“you threatening me with a good time, walker?”

john chucks a spatula at your head, you duck, and it hits alexei.

“what the fuck-”

“collateral damage, alexei.” you shrugged.

—

bucky’s in the common room, reading from a file.

you crawl onto the couch like a cat, and laid your head in his lap.

“hey, what if i said i loved you?”

“i’d check for a concussion.” he replied, without hesitation.

“what if i said i loved everyone here?”

“i’d think you were planning something.”

“god, you know me so well. that’s why i love you most.”

bucky sighs, long, and tired, but his fingers still comb through your hair once, absentmindedly, before he went back to reading his file.

—

the gym’s quiet except for the dull thud of fists hitting pads, and the soft shuffle of feet against the mat. you’re both breathless, and sweat-slicked.

you thought your session with him had ended, and that you had to switch partners.

before you could ask, bucky feints left, swept your legs, and had you flat on your back in seconds.

you barely get a hand up to block before he’s pinning you, his knee braced against your thigh, right on the bruise you got from previous missions.

“fuck!” you choke out, your body stiffening as a whimper tore itself from your throat before you could even manage to swallow it down.

the moment bucky heard your pained noises, he’s off you instantly.

“shit- shit, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to- are you okay?”

you nodded, breathing through it. you caught his gaze, and the way he stared at your mouth, flushed, and wide-eyed.

“..you’re turned on.”

he swallows hard.

“no.” he lies immediately. “a little..”

“so, ‘fuck’ turns you on now?” you arch a brow at him, sitting up now.

bucky flushes a deep red, but doesn’t deny it.

“not the ‘fuck’ part.” he mumbles. “it was the fucking whimper. happy?”

“you like when i’m vulnerable.”

“only if you’re safe, only if you let me.”

“i’m safe,” you get up, and get back at him, pinning him on the ground. “and next time, maybe try asking.”

—

now you’re back to work, completely healed.

the quinjet hummed low as it descended.

this was a new assignment, a new location, just for the two of you.

“you ready for this?” you asked casually.

bucky glances at you, then narrowed his eyes.

“are you?”

“always.” you grin.

you and him split up after making sure there were no threats in the main floor. the facility was way bigger than intel suggested.

his voice crackles in your comms.

‘i’ve got eyes on the shipment.’ a pause. ‘it looks like they’re-’

static.

then silence.

—

when bucky wakes up, the world was spinning. his vision was blurred at the edges, and a low pulse throbbed in his skull. there’s blood in his mouth, and the hum of fluorescent lights above him. his arms were wrenched behind him, he was tied to the fucking chair.

the moment he twitches, pain spreads through his shoulders.

he’s tied to precisely that any shift would pull his joints toward dislocation immediately. one wrong move, and his arm would tear straight out of its socket. he tests it again, barely flexing. this time his muscles strain, and the pain spikes hard enough to blur his vision.

“fuck.”

footsteps echoed.

then a voice spoke.

“oh good, sleeping beauty’s awake.” a few men stepped out from the shadows, unarmed.

“who the fuck are you guys?”

they ignored bucky’s question, and continued on.

“the famous winter soldier, huh?” they mused, circling around him like a predator. “not so deadly when you’re all tied up like this.”

“let me go, and i’ll show you how deadly i can be.”

one of the men crouched beside him, leaned in, and spoke low in his ear.

“if you even try to move, you’ll hear the pop before you even feel the pain. pretty design isn’t it? we’ve studied your physiology before.”

another tapped his finger against the rope wrapped around bucky’s biceps.

“hydra was never this elegant.”

bucky glares at them, a few drops of blood dripping from his temples.

you were still out there, he knows you’ll come.

—

there were three men in the room, two at the monitors, one with a blade, leaning a little too close to bucky’s face.

you moved like a shadow. you drop the first with a blade thrown directly at his chest. the second barely had time to react before you threw another blade at the back of his head. the third, holding the blade, screamed, but only once.

then silence.

bucky’s breathing hard, sweat soaking through his shirt, bleeding from his temples.

you recollected your blades, and sheathed them before turning to him.

and for the first time since you’ve met him, he looks vulnerable.

you don’t even say anything, just looked at him, at the way the ropes wrench his arms behind him at that cruel angle, at how his legs were spread slightly, just wide enough that he can’t close them without tearing his own shoulders out.

the rope was tight against his chest, under his arms, and down the sides of his thighs. it purpose wasn’t to hold him still, but to trap him.

bucky watches as your eyes trace every knot, every line of tension around his body, and he gulps.

you still haven’t spoken, but the way you were staring, and observing was loud enough.

“don’t- don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?” your brows lifted slightly.

“like i- fuck, just untie me.”

but you don’t move, just lean forward a little, slowly. then your eyes drift lower, and guess what? he’s hard.

“oh.”

his breath catches.

“oh.” you murmured. “you get off on twisted shit like this, bucket?”

bucky turns red, truly red. it wasn’t from blood or strain, but from shame. his jaw clenches like if he tensed hard enough, his boner would go away. his gaze wouldn’t meet yours.

you crouch down now, bringing your face to his level.

“i was going to ask if they hurt you, but i think you liked it a little too much.”

“i didn’t- if it weren’t for you- shut up.” he snaps, but his voice cracks. his wrists strained against the ropes, and he groans again.

you cock your head.

“hurts when you move, huh?”

“don’t.. don’t tease.”

“but you’re leaking.” you hum, thoughtful.

that’s what triggers bucky to whimper. it wasn’t even subtle. his hips shifted just an inch, but that just drags the tension tighter, and he shudders with it, torn between pain, and pleasure.

you let the tension simmer for a second, before you drew your blade, and cut him free.

when the last rope fell, he slumps forward, and gasped like he’s surfacing from underwater.

you lean down one last time, and whisper.

“you want me to help with that too?”

“..shut up.”

—

the both of you don't mention it ever again.

and over the next week, something changes.

you catch bucky lingering in the gym longer than usual. he wasn’t even working out, just staring at the resistance bands coiled on the rack, the climbing rope used for drills. his faze slides over them like he’s unaware that he’s doing it.

sometimes you catch his jaw tightening, too.

one time you walked into the armory, looking to clean your blades, but instead you found him sitting there on the bench. you didn’t pay him any attention, until you saw reinforced handcuffs dangling loosely from his fingers. he was just staring at the curve of the steel.

—

at first, bucky thinks it’s a dream.

he wakes slowly, in the middle of the night. the faint press of cotton against his skin tells him that he’s still fully clothed. the room was dim, and his mouth was dry.

he tries to shift, and realises he can’t.

panic sparks in him for a second, before he feels it. tight, deliberate pressure over his chest, around his thighs, his biceps, and his hips. this was intricate, precise, fucking shibari.

the knots were beautiful, disgustingly well-executed. each one was snug, wrapped cleanly over his clothes, running tight across his arms, and thighs. his legs were bent slightly, spread, and tied up so that his knees would press against his stomach slightly. his cock was hard beneath the fabric, restrained tightly by the webbing, but there’s no skin showing at all.

bucky groans.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

somewhere from the room, the floorboard creaks, and you appear. you’re sitting beside his bound frame like he isn’t tied for a display, like this isn’t fucking obscene.

“morning.” you tilted your head at him, as if it wasn’t 2 in the fucking morning.

he glares at you.

“what the actual fuck is this?”

you ran a hand down his chest slowly, fingers tracing the tension in the ropes. you smiled when you felt just how hard he was, trapped, and throbbing under all that fabric.

bucky huffs, and turns his head.

“let me guess, some sick game. trying to get me to admit i like it.” he scoffs. “this is fucking ridiculous, i’m not even-”

you press something between his legs before he could continue ranting.

vibration.

he sucks in a breath, back arching automatically, but the rope tightens slightly.

you watched him try to swallow a moan as the toy pressed right up against the bulge in his pants. there wasn’t any friction, just stimulation, and pressure.

“fuck- stop, that’s-” his voice cracks halfway through. he shakes his head, but he’s already leaking.

“i didn’t even ask you anything yet.” you murmur. “you’re leaking again, bucky.”

“shut up.” he snarls.

bucky doesn’t want to want it, but his body does. he’s trembling, trying to act like this wasn’t affecting him. but by the time you crank it up to the second setting, and nestle the toy more precisely against him, he’s overheating, and overstimulated before he even gets there.

“so responsive.”

“i’m not-” he growls, but his voice breaks again. “you’re sick.” the vibrations haven’t stopped.

and when he does get there? the first orgasm hits him like a car crash.

his entire body jolts forward, and the sound ripped itself from his throat. he yelps, high-pitched, and startled like he didn’t see it coming.

he pants through it, dazed. you watch the moment his eyes glazed over, and you’re still holding it there.

“n-no, no, no- i just came, i just-”

“i know, that’s one.”

bucky starts shaking his head, whining under his breath, but still too proud to beg properly. he was still twitching beneath you.

“i hate this, i hate-”

“you know what to say if you really want me to stop.”

that shuts him up, the safeword hangs in the air. you both know it, he could say it, but he doesn’t.

“you want me to turn it up?”

“don’t you-”

you turned the vibrations up to fourth, instead of the third setting this time.

“you’re disgusting. you just came in your pants, and you’re still fucking hard?”

bucky starts panting. the higher setting pushes directly against him. the vibrations weren’t touching him anymore, they were pressing into him, surrounding his weeping cock with unbearable sensation.

“shh,” you whisper. “you’re doing so well.”

“i-i’m not, fuck!” he turns his face away, breathing harsh. his muscles were straining, frantic. his instincts screamed for movement that wasn’t there. he’s stuck, and each orgasm was building agianst his will, inch by inch.

“you going to cum for me?”

“n-no.”

you press the toy down harder.

bucky whines, a low, broken sound in the back of his throat. his back arches, and this time the ropes punish him for it, biting in along his ribs, thighs, and biceps.

the sound he makes was half pain, half something else, something worse.

you smooth your hand over his stomach, and he shudders when your palm drifts lower, fingers resting on the damp patch where his cock twitches helplessly beneath his pants.

“i.. i can’t take it.” he whimpers.

“oh, you don’t have to take it.”

he blinks at you.

“you just have to cum again.”

he doesn’t respond. his head was thrown back against the pillow, eyes unfocused, lips parted around the sharp gasps that he couldn’t seem to swallow.

“going to cum in your pants again? be a good little mess?”

bucky doesn’t say yes, or no. but his hips jerk, trying to rut into the pressure again even though his body’s clearly overwhelmed.

“i can’t- don’t, fuck. it’s too-”

you press the toy just a little harder, and he breaks.

the second orgasm hits him. his entire frame went rigid beneath the bindings, as his mouth opened on a silent moan.

you watched in delight as he came again in his pants like some slut.

he moans through it, barely conscious, but still hard.

“you just made a bigger mess than the first time, do you even realise what you look like right now?”

he whimpers, hiccups, chest rising in shallow jerks.

the third one was much more cruel.

bucky’s oversenstive now, every vibration made him flinch, his cock twitching helplessly in his pants. his voice was broken entirely, no longer forming words, just high-pitched keens, whimpers, and shallow breaths that hitch every time you shifted the toy.

you’re straddling him now, one knee pressed between his legs to hold him down. not that he’s fighting it anymore, he’s too far gone.

“just one more, bucky. one more, and i’ll stop. i promise.”

he’s crying now, just a few tears, slipping down his cheeks silently.

but he nods. he fucking nods.

when you finally let the vibrator sit at the perfect angle, unmoving, steady, pressed just hard enough? it doesn’t take long.

“look at me.”

he doesn’t hear you, the only thing he could focus on was the vibration, which felt like it was spreading all throughout his body.

“look at me while you cum in your pants one more time.” you grabbed his jaw, and held it firm.

bucky’s lips part, and you know he’s right on edge.

“you can’t help it, can you?” you whisper. “you like being used like this, you like being tied up, soaking wet, crying, and cumming over, and over without being touched?”

then he cums, harder than the previous times.

bucky’s hips strained so violently you’d think he tore the rope, and then he collapsed. his cock pulses wildly, and you watch his stomach twitch as the last of it soaks through every layer of his pants.

you just hold him there, made him feel every second of it.

he couldn’t do anything but moan, and when it’s finally over, he’s limp. his chest was heaving, arms slack, face flushed.

then you finally turn off the toy.

[eggrollforyou]

Wait For Me

Zoro x F!Reader x Law

Summary: you, a fellow Straw Hat, and the crew are separated at Sabaody. Saved by Law, you have to decide if you’ll accept his help or cut your losses and handle things on your own until your crew reunites.

CW: MDNI, NSFW, Angst, slow burn, Canon divergent, eventual smut, AFAB reader, use of Y/N, hidden baby trope (kinda? Not by choice lol), descriptions of violence, blood, and vomit, pregnant reader, self doubt

This chapter: ANGST, angst to comfort, smut. Not proofread. First couple paragraphs from the last chapter.

Series masterlist

Alternate ending

“Wh-what do you mean, my daughter?” he blinks at you in confusion. How could he not see it?! She’s clearly a spitting image of him. “W-when, The Heart Pirates saved me during our battle with the Pacafistas…..I was pregnant..” your voice trembled under his gaze. Before you had an opportunity to finish your thought, “And you knew?!” his voice raising slightly. He immediately regretted his reaction, seeing you wince, your body going rigid and beginning to pull back at his outburst.

He cleared his throat, “I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “No, Zoro….I didn’t know. I found out after Law triaged my injuries,” you meekly stated. “I…I know this throws your plans into disarray…I-I..I couldn’t NOT have her, though,” you peer up through wet lashes, your tears threatening to spill. Your anxiety is heightened. A fireball sitting in your chest, your stomach nervous, as you await his response. Wiping your clammy hands on your pants, you reach over to Shakky and take Ayumi into your arms. Holding her on your hip. “She’s our daughter, Zoro. She and I wouldn’t be here without Law and the Heart Pirates. They saved us and they made me stronger…for Luffy…for you.”

Zoro’s expression changed from surprised to his stoic, unreadable stare. He glances at you and looks over at Ayumi currently playing with your hair, using it as a curtain to hide herself while giggling. You wish you could steal some of her innocence and obliviousness to the situation you found yourself in, under Zoro’s scrutinizing gaze. You waited with bated breath, his silence only a couple minutes, but felt like an eternity as your thoughts spiraled out of your control. This is it. This is where he tells me there’s no room for us in his life. He has to focus on other things that won’t slow down his or Luffy’s goals. Maybe I can ask Luffy to drop us off on an island where we’ll be safe. I’ll have to do this alone.

Zoro can see your worry, as if your thoughts are being broadcast to anyone within a five mile radius. His silence continues to add to your anxiety, each second feeling like an added stone on a scale forcing it to fall lower and lower, threatening to topple and spill your worry for the world to see, shattering your heart in the process.

“I…I need a minute,” he brusquely mumbles as he runs his hand down his face. He brushes past you both, “I'm sorry, Y/N. I just need some time.” Your heart begins to break with each step he takes away from you. The sound of his footsteps is a confirmation of your worries and fears, each one as if it’s pounding a nail in the coffin of your future. Your gaze turns to Ayumi, as she smiles at you, totally unaware of the situation and you swallow the lump forming in your throat, blinking rapidly to push back the tears burning your eyes. You need to be strong, for her. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and press a kiss to her forehead. All you can do is wait.

It’s been hours since Zoro walked out of Shakky’s. Your mind is somewhat occupied as the rest of the crew trickle in, excited and surprised to see you and Ayumi. It feels like you’ve gone over the story a million times, explaining it felt like you were reading a script. “Hey! Where’s Mosshead?” Sanji asks, realizing that Zoro was nowhere to be found. “Did that idiot get lost again?”

Your eyes flash to the door and you’re suddenly reminded how long he’s been gone. “I’m not sure, Sanji. He, uh, said he needed some time after he met Ayumi-” you pause and your face shows your hesitance to continue. Sanji picks up on your hesitation and getting the jist of what happened he takes a long drag from his cigarette. Inhaling, he leans forward, “That fucking jackass. My dear if you need anything-”

“No, Sanji, it’s ok,” you interrupt, putting your hand up asking him to stop for fear or losing whatever composure you had left. You take a deep breath and realize the conversations around you have all but stopped. Everyone has their attention on you. Your lip begins to tremble when you feel that everyone sees through you. “N-nami, Robin? Can you please watch Ayumi for me for a few minutes? I need some fresh air for JUST a second.”

“Take all the time you need, Y/N, �� Robin soothes. “We’ll be right here with this little princess.”

You give a clipped thank you as you quickly walk outside, your arms tense at your side as you clench your fists.

As you walk past the door’s threshold, it takes all your power to muffle the cries that try to escape your throat. Quickly wiping the tears falling from your face you miss the body in front of you as soon as you turn out the door, bumping into them. “Oh!” you sniffle, “I’m so sorry, please excuse me,” you quickly try to compose yourself, not realizing who you bumped into. “Oh HEY, Y/N!” Luffy laughs as he grabs the top of his hat. “I was just talking to Traffy here and thanking him again for helping you and ‘Yumi,” he grins.

You peer behind him and see Law looking standoffish, as usual, his posture stiff and arms crossed. He looks at you and instantly tenses more, seeing you in this state, he wonders what’s going on, though he has an idea. “Is everything alright,

Y/N-ya?” That piercing gaze from his intense stare, you know whatever you say- if it’s not the truth- he’ll know in an instant. You pull your lips into a thin line and nod, hoping that if you don’t say anything you won’t crack. He squints at you, not believing your response. Luffy, actually paying attention to what you look like sees something’s off as well. “Yea” his voice suddenly gruff and serious, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

With both of them staring at you, you can’t help but spill. “Have you noticed who isn’t here?!” you nearly shout as you throw your arms out. “He met her. He met Ayumi and fucking left. Said he needed time. I was terrified that this would happen and there was a part of me through all of this that was hopeful that things wouldn’t have come to this but I was right! I was fucking right.”

Luffy and Law both shift, unable to come up with words to say. You see Law’s gaze soften when you make eye contact. Hot tears slowly roll down your face as you try to regain your breath. “I was fucking right. Ayumi and I now are obstacles to reaching his goals because he’s a stubborn ass ....and..and I don’t think he can see anything else. I don’t think he can see a way to make THIS work! I don’t know what’s going to happen. To us. To my role with the Straw Hats,” you look at Luffy and those few seconds feel like an eternity.

All three of you are startled when you hear someone clearing their throat behind you. Quickly looking around, you see that Zoro walked up at some point during your rant. And you feel so many emotions at once. Your skin is overheated, your heartbeat pounding in your chest and neck. What started as sadness and anxiety has started shifting to anger. Your stomach turns and your cheeks are flushed as you stand there between your future and past. Unsure which side- Luffy and Zoro, or Law- will be what. “Y/N,” Zoro grumbles, “can we talk?”

Law clenches his jaw as he sees you walking away with Zoro. Your defenses clearly up, holding your arms close and crossed across your chest. He hates the turmoil you are going through right now and hates that he can’t do anything to comfort you. He only hopes that you are happy but he wishes he was the one to make you happy. He can only offer to be there to catch you if you need it. He turns to Luffy, feigning interest in what Luffy was saying when you’re no longer in view.

Zoro stayed quiet as you both walked along a path in the mangrove. The sounds of bugs and birds only amplify the quiet between you. It felt like an eternity and you can’t stand his silence any longer. “J-just spit it out Zoro..I can’t keep existing in this limbo where I don’t know what we’re doing. What we are.” He hesitates, his expression serious. “I don’t think I’m in the right place to give you and Ayumi what you need. What you deserve.”

Your mouth goes sour at the bile rising in your throat. Your stomach falling into the pit that it’s been teetering along. “So, what,” you stumble. “It’s just done? We’re done?”

“I don’t think kids were ever in the picture for me, Y/N.” He sighs as he watches you pick your cuticles nearly bloody. “I mean, maybe one day WAY down the line, but right now? I promised Luffy to help him and to reach my own goals. It’s not easy. It’s not fair t-”

You throw your hand up, interrupting him. “Stop. You’ve made it clear. I’m not important enough. Ayumi isn’t important enough. You can’t see beyond your own stubbornness to see how things could work. But you’ve said enough. I don’t need any bullshit excuses. It’s patronizing.” Zoro reaches out to you, hoping to hold your hand and you pull back.

“For all the loyalty you show to Luffy, it’s a shame you can’t show the same to us. I can’t sit around waiting for you to find it. I’m responsible for her now.” You try to muster as much anger and frustration as you can to override the sadness and heartache.

“Y/N….” he calls out.

“No, Zoro,” your lip and voice trembles. “There was a part of me that thought about whether I should keep the pregnancy…..sure it was a gamble. I knew that this was a possibility. It’s just….it’s difficult to be here. I can’t force you to be part of her life, nor mine. But this is what it is now. So thank you. Thank you for giving me an answer.”

You look up through watery lashes at him. He looks at you with heartbreak behind his eyes. His expression looks lost and for once he has nothing to say. You pull in your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath. “Goodbye Zoro,” forcing yourself to pull away from him. You quickly turn around and walk away trying your best to not shed any more tears for him.

You make your way back to Shakky’s and notice Luffy and Law were no longer outside. You’re thankful for the solitude because you’re not sure you can handle anyone else seeing you as you process your world falling apart. It already feels public enough. Sitting down on the grass, you try to compose yourself to head back inside. “Y/N-ya…” you hear Law quietly call your name. You look over and see him walking up, his hands in his pockets, quietly assessing you. Suddenly, everything you’ve been trying to shove down is bubbling up to the surface. A reflex, you suppose, to all the comfort he’s provided you the last two years.

He sees your eyes, glossy and bloodshot and he sits down next to you. His knees up and he rests his arms across them. He sits with you in silence for a few moments. “Come with me.” He says it like it’s the only option. You sniffle, “Law, I can’t just lea-”

“I already talked to Straw Hat. He agreed for you to continue your training with me….if you want to.” He looks over at you, a hopeful look in his eyes as he sits with bated breath. “Y-you did?!” You’re shocked at first that he even talked to Luffy about it, but it doesn’t surprise you the longer you sit with the thought. He did offer for you to stay with them. “I…I don’t know what to say,” you whisper. He reaches over and rubs his thumb along your cheek, “Just….just say yes. I…” he stops, taking a moment to choose his words.

“I want you, Y/N. You already know we can make it work with Ayumi on board. I promise…I won’t let anything happen to either of you. I lo-,” you cut him off, pressing your lips on his. He stiffens in momentary surprise but quickly relaxes, returning your kiss with fervor as he moves his hand to the back of your head as he grips your hair. He pulls back, both of you breathless, and he presses his forehead to yours, your noses barely touching. “Is that a yes?” he grins.

After tearful goodbyes with the Straw Hats, you promised to keep in touch. Hugging almost everyone wishing them the best. Zoro was nowhere to be found, having made some excuse to stay on the ship awaiting the departure. You finally make it to Luffy, he giggles his usual laugh as he adjusts his hat, “Y/N, you take care of that little one, okay? Get stronger. We’ll see you again soon in the New World.”

You smile at him, “I will, Luffy….thank you. I’ll be there when you make it as King of the Pirates," you chuckle as you give him a hug. He laughs again as he bounds with his endless energy, stretching and bouncing himself to the ship.

You feel a warm hand pressing on the small of your back, “It’s time for us to head out too, Y/N/-ya,” Law says. You turn to look at him, his gaze warming you from head to toe, and you nod in agreement. “Say bye, Ayumi,” you say as you wave off the Straw Hats as the Sunny begins to leave the island. She smiles and returns their waves with enthusiasm.

With all the activity throughout the day, Ayumi is wiped. With the Polar Tang now on course, it’s easy to fall into the same routines. She goes down for a nap with little fight and as you back out of her room, closing the door to Law's office turned baby room, as you step back into his connected quarters, your back immediately brushes up against something.

You peer back and see it’s Law, checking on you both now that he’s been freed from the duties of leaving the archipelago behind. His hands reach for your waist as he leans forward, his breath in your ear. His body is so close you feel the warmth radiating off of him. “She went down pretty easily, hmm?” You nod, putting your hands on top of his as you exhale, “Mmhmm. Thankfully. I feel like I might need a nap,” you exhale. “It’s been such an intense couple of days.”

You lean your head back to rest on Law’s shoulder. Quickly falling back into the comfort that you grew to accept during your time with Law. A pang of guilt washes over you for a second. Law notices and leans into you, “Hey…everything is okay,” he breathes into your hair. He closes his eyes as he inhales, unsure whether this is real or not. Almost on the verge of asking you to pinch him to really make sure this isn’t just a dream.

His hushed words warm your heart, slowly filling in all the cracks, making you feel more while than you have in a long time. And you can finally lean into the feelings that at first confused you and left you conflicted. You turn around, looking up into his intense amber eyes, putting your arms up over his shoulders and pull him down to kiss him.

He walks backwards, pulling you with him, keeping your bodies pressed tightly together as if the smallest amount of space between you will lead to his undoing. His tongue swipes across your lip, begging for connection and you oblige. He groans into your mouth as your tongues meet, exploring each other. Your lips slot together like perfect puzzle pieces. He pours every ounce of his want and need to be close to you into it.

He reaches down and pulls your legs up, you gasp as your legs wrap around his hips, ankles locking together to keep him close. He walks you both to his bed and gently lays you down, his body pressing down on you. You move your hips, feeling his erection through his pants, moaning as he presses it into your core.

“F-fuck, mmmnh!” You gasp. “God, I need you,” he pants between open mouthed kisses that he litters across your jaw and neck. “You have me,” you whisper into his ear as you take his earlobe between your canines, making him inhale sharply.

His hands wander, exploring your body. Sliding up and down your sides, kneading your breasts, he watches you with reverence.

You both shuffle quickly to remove your clothes, shirts and pants discarded haphazardly across his room. You lean up on your elbows, short erratic breaths punctuated in gasps as he peppers kisses and nibbles down your chest. He kneads one breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he takes the other in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, watching your skin break out in goosebumps following his touch.

Law makes his way down your torso, his grip on your thighs tight. He pushes your thighs up, spreading your legs further apart as he kisses down your body, “So fucking perfect,” he whispers, more to himself than anything. Your arms are splayed out to your sides, waiting in anticipation as you feel his breath fan over your dripping cunt.

You gasp and muffle your cries when he licks a stripe up your folds, pulling your clit and sucking intensely. Your back arches as he eats you out like a man starved and on the brink of death, moaning at your taste.

Your mind goes blank as he swipes his tongue, flicking between your clit and fucking into you. The warm sensation in your belly igniting into a wildfire, blazing hot. Each swipe of and suck of his mouth on you throwing gasoline to the fire. Without warning he works two fingers into your tight heat, curling them with such precision your vision nearly blurs.

With his mouth latched on your clit, sucking harshly, and his fingers now working you toward your release, he presses your sweet spot repeatedly. And with one last swipe, you snap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves, gasping your hands, grabbing his hair as you pulse and clench around his digits. He moans as he grinds his erection into the bed. “L-law, please…I need you,” you beg.

With your pleads, he pulls back, his fingers a loss you weren't prepared for despite asking for something else. You pull your legs up as he slots himself between them. He fists his veiny cock and rubs his tip through your soaked folds, pressing it into your clit at the top of his motions.

He leans down and kisses you, full of need and desperation, as he presses his tip into you. The stretch burning but the feeling of being so full as he pushes in, to the hilt. The room is full of your gasping breaths as you both adjust. He slowly pulls back and thrusts back into you.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he rasps in your ear as he picks up the pace and his hips snap into you. He watches as your brows furrow in pleasure your breath hitching with every thrust into you as he fucks you closer to coming undone.

You're overwhelmed with everything. The air is thick with lust, desire, and unspoken feelings. Your skin, hot and sticky, breathes mingling between whispered praises - hot and heavy. He continues to bully his cock over your sweet spot over and over and he feels you clenching tighter the closer you are to your release.

“Let go, I've got you,” he tells you, his voice is gruff and desperate to see you come undone. “Cum for me,” he breathes out, and with a deep thrust as he rolls his hips, you do just that. He kisses you deeply, swallowing your cries and moans himself as your walls clamp around him.

His thrusts slow as he works you through your orgasm. In a daze you don't realize right away that he's adjusting you. Pulling out and gently rolling you over to lie prone on your stomach. He presses kisses along your spine, each one feels like a shock on your overheated skin.

He firmly grabs your ass, knuckles pale from his firm grip and lines himself back up with you. Pressing in completely, watching how your body greedily takes him. Unable to control himself any longer , he leans forward pressing his weight on your back and ruts into you chasing his own high. The angle takes your breath away with how good it feels.

Your hands grip the sheets beneath you, “Hnnng, fuck. Yes, right there,” you cry out. He picks up the pace again, filling the room with the sinful sounds of squelching from your last release. His arms caged around you claiming you in the most primal way. “Hnng, fucking take all of me,” he rasps in your ear. And with a final thrust he stills and spills into you. His pace slowly coming to a stop.

He stays there for a moment, both of you spent, and utterly wrecked. Still inside of you, he pulls you with him as he lies down on his side, as you catch your breaths. His arms wrapping around you, holding you flush to him. You feel his heartbeat, slowly coming back down.

Getting up he grabs something to clean you off, delicately wiping you down. You roll over to face him, pressing a long kiss to his lips and savor the contentment you feel in your chest as you look at him.

You sigh, pausing for a moment, “Are you sure you want this?” You chuckle. “Absolutely,” he replies in a somber tone. “I would've waited an eternity for you.”

Did you like this? I'm flattered! Wanna read more? Here's my Masterlist!

Tags: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @guridoodles @ibuch7 @praline357 @chaixsherlock @lunafrisk303999 @starchild-unnamed @windblownwinston @hopelesslover06 @lunamoonbby

MDNI banner by @cafekitsune

Heart banner by @saradika-graphics

[luvvixu]

mission impossible / s. gojo

a cursed mission that should have been simple—but with satoru, suguru, shoko, and you involved? it never is.

location, an abandoned apartment complex just outside of tokyo.

objective? exorcise a grade 1 cursed spirit terrorizing locals.

instructions! quick in, quick out. don’t cause unnecessary destruction.

reality…they should’ve never sent you four together.

——

“okay, team,” suguru said, arms crossed, tone overly serious as he stood in the middle of the overgrown courtyard. “we split up into pairs. shoko's with me, y/n with satoru.”

you blinked. “why do you get to assign pairs?”

“because i’m the only one here with two functioning brain cells,” he replied smoothly.

shoko shrugged. “it didn’t actually answered the question but whatever—at least, i’m not babysitting gojo today.”

“hey! i'm not a baby,” satoru pouted. “i’m an emotionally developing young man.”

“you said you wanted to ask the curse for its name before exorcising it,” you deadpanned.

“well, it’s only polite!”

suguru facepalmed. “we’re going. y/n, keep him on a leash.”

you sighed as they disappeared into the left wing of the building. you and satoru turned right.

——

the hallway creaked under your feet. dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight filtering through broken windows.

“this place is creepy,” satoru whispered.

“you’re a sorcerer. be brave.”

“i am! but that creepy vase with the eyes is looking at me.”

“…that’s a wall crack.”

“...oh. right.”

you suddenly paused.

from the stairwell came a low growl, followed by a thick pressure in the air. a curse.

you nodded at him, and you both approached it slowly. but instead of a dramatic fight or some high-stakes action—

—you found the cursed spirit crouched on the ceiling… crying.

“...is that sobbing?” he tilted his head.

the cursed spirit noticed you, sniffled, then wailed loudly like a banshee.

“oh no,” you said flatly, “it’s emotional.”

satoru stepped forward. “hey buddy, what’s wrong? you good?”

“grrrrrraaAAAAGGGHHHh!” it wailed again—then launched a chandelier at you both.

“NOT GOOD,” he yelped, ducking as you sliced through the object with your cursed tool.

——

meanwhile, on the other side of the complex, shoko and suguru weren’t faring much better.

“this curse is literally just… throwing shoes at us,” shoko muttered, dodging a pair of flip-flops midair.

“it’s haunting a former shoe store,” suguru sighed. “we should’ve brought satoru here instead. he deserves this level of stupidity.” shoko chuckled in agreement.

a thud echoed from above.

shoko looked up. “that sounded like—”

BOOM!

satoru and the cursed spirit crashed through the ceiling, landing right between suguru and shoko. you followed seconds later, panting, clothes dusty, expression unimpressed.

“he told the curse it had ‘pretty eyes’ and it got shy,” you said, exasperated.

“then got aggressive,” he added. “so now it’s throwing furniture.”

“why do i feel like this entire mission is cursed because of you?” shoko muttered.

“i like to think i bring spice to the group.”

the cursed spirit suddenly launched a glowing ball of cursed energy. everyone scattered.

“i swear,” shoko shouted from behind an overturned table, “next time, i’m going solo!”

——

despite all the chaos, the mission was completed.

the cursed spirit, turns out, wasn’t malicious—it was lonely and confused. after shoko sedated it and suguru safely sealed it, you all made your way out of the crumbling building.

dusty. bruised. mentally exhausted.

“well,” satoru said, brushing himself off, “who’s up for ice cream?”

“no,” you and shoko said in unison.

“wait, hold up,” suguru said, turning to you, “...y/n, you didn’t actually let him befriend with the curse, right?”

you didn’t answer. you just kept walking.

“oh my god,” shoko muttered, “they’re a match made in chaotic hell.”

satoru caught up beside you, flashing that grin. “so... that was kinda fun, huh?”

you glanced at him. “you nearly got stabbed by a possessed recliner.”

“but you saved me and that was so hot.”

you sighed. “don’t make this weird.”

“i already like you, isn’t it too late?”

you didn’t answer. just walked ahead. but satoru saw it—the smallest twitch of your lips.

chaotic mission? absolute disaster.

but to satoru? best mission ever.

——

the next morning, yaga stood at the front of the room, holding the mission report like it had personally insulted him.

“you what?” he deadpanned, eyes slowly scanning the four second-years standing in front of him like misbehaving elementary kids.

satoru, suguru, shoko, and you stood in a line—dust-free now, but still looking like a pack of troublemakers fresh from a night of bad decisions.

“we handled the curse,” shoko said casually, hands in her coat pockets.

“with minimal casualties,” suguru added.

“there were no casualties,” you corrected.

“exactly!” satoru chimed in brightly. “that’s a win in my book!”

yaga slammed the papers on his desk. “this report says—and i quote—‘subject displayed unstable emotional behavior due to gojo’s kind and unsolicited compliment.’”

you stared at satoru.

“you wrote that?”

“transparency is important,” he shrugged.

yaga rubbed his temples. “this also says shoko sedated the spirit after it threw a bookshelf at her.”

“it missed,” she replied flatly.

“you used a dining chair as a shield,” the teacher gritted.

“it was sturdy.”

“and you—” yaga pointed at you, “—you apparently said, and i quote again: ‘we are going to die because this idiot tried to befriend with a curse.’”

satoru gasped. “you said that?!”

“what? transparency is important.” you mocked his words earlier and didn’t deny it.

yaga let out the longest sigh of his life. “i am assigning you all to cleaning duty for the next three days. no missions. no fieldwork. just mops and brooms.”

satoru slouched. “that’s basically exile.”

“good. maybe you’ll learn something.”

“y/n can’t clean with me,” satoru quickly added. “we have a date.”

everyone froze.

shoko: blink

suguru: blink blink

you: blink blink blink

yaga: “…you what?”

you groaned, covering your face. “it’s not—ugh! it’s a maybe, okay?! possibly. shut up!”

shoko grinned. “aww, little sorcerer lovebirds.”

“i’m gonna puke,” suguru added, but he looked way too amused.

yaga picked the papers back up, massaging the bridge of his nose. “i’m gonna pretend i didn’t hear that.”

more of teenage!gojo romance

©luvvixu2025

[accidentcache]

needed to beat him the fuck up. anyways what's the sexiest non sex related thing ever the answer is always fighting with your estranged lover warnings; language, mild violence, reader is mean (justified anger ok walk with me here), mild gun violence, dazai being a flirt/freak. okay pls throw rocks at me im sorry

chuuya told you he had come back on his own volition. why? he doesn't know. and why chuuya decided to tell you this information will always be in the back of your head as well. it's not like chuuya knew all the details of yours and dazai's relationship.

or did he?

walking down those steps to find that bastard chained to a slab of concrete told you that chuuya knew the cards he was playing. the way dazai's eyes widened the moment they locked on you— oh, chuuya knew what he was doing, wasn't he? you'd have to thank him later for giving you this opportunity.

hell hath no fury like a lover scorned.

"hey, cutie," dazai drawls with a smirk that twitches at the corner. trying to save face because even though he's killed before, even though he's been on the brink of death— no one scares him like you do. and he's dreaded the day he'd have to see you again after leaving the port mafia.

you don't give him a chance to speak again before your knuckles meet his cheekbone. his head twists with the force, a grunt leaving his mouth— and you think you've effectively silenced him. but this is dazai, and your ex-boyfriend slash traitor never knows when to shut the fuck up.

he keeps his head turned to the side. the corner of his mouth is twitching upward and his body shakes ever so slightly as he chuckles under his breath. the room is otherwise silent, save for your angered breathing; so his laughter is not missed.

"i see you missed me, bella," he keeps his voice low— teasing. his eyes finally meet yours and you feel such a violent mix of rage and longing course throughout your body. a smirk dances along his lips and heat bubbles at the bottom of your spine.

"you are going to regret coming back here," your voice shakes with the amount of mental force you're using to restrain the anger. your hand slides into his hair to yank it backwards harshly and you revel in the way his face twists in discomfort.

dazai's throat bobs as he's forced to look up at you. and yeah, a lot of people call him messed up. he's used to it— he knows he does a lot of weird and odd things. he's into a lot of weird things. but right now, he still thinks you're the hottest thing he's ever laid eyes on. even when mad. even when you look seconds away from killing him.

his tongue clicks in mock disappointment. "you don't miss me?"

on reflex you yank his hair again and force the back of his head against the concrete. he winces, but the small smirk he sports doesn't seem to waver. almost like he's enjoying this.

your lip curls in distaste— but both of you know it's not genuine. your hand leaves his hair you push the flat of your boot into his chest. "still a fuckin' freak i see." you don't miss how his throat bobs and his eyes seem to dilate when you scoot your foot upward to rest on his throat.

"of course i am," he replies, his voice ever so slightly strained due to the pressure you're putting on his windpipe. his smirk curls higher. "it's you."

you swear you blink and all of a sudden his hands are free from the cuffs. his hand wraps around your ankle and you don't have time to react before you're suddenly on your back on the floor. the force knocks the wind from you, your vision is just a tad fuzzy but luckily for you; with years of training with him and chuuya and others, your reflexes are quick.

you're back on your feet before you know it, drawing the gun from your hip to aim it at the spot right between his eyes. you'd pull the trigger, but one thing about dazai is that he is fast. he's smart and he's quick, and he knows how to disarm you even though it's been years since he's been in hand to hand combat with you.

it's muscle memory for him almost. how his hand snaps forward to wrap around your wrist and twist your arm so your body flips and your back turns to his front. in response, your leg kicks out and takes him down by his ankles. he laughs as he tumbles, latching onto your calf to tug you down as well as your gun clatters to the ground only a few feet away.

brought down to your knees beside him, only a moment of silence passes. your breathing is labored, eyes locked on his in almost a western standoff. neither of you move quite yet, stuck in the odd tension in each other's gaze before you're scrambling towards your weapon.

dazai's hand wraps around your ankle just as your hand secures your gun. when you move to aim at him, you find him smirking; lips parted as heavy breaths leave his mouth. he's got a bit of dirt on the side of his face, and his hair is tousled from you yanking it earlier and the scuffle.

he still looks pretty. unfortunately, even more so now.

your finger wraps around the trigger and your jaw clenches. it'd be so easy to pull the trigger. would it? you've wanted to kill him since the day he left you without a word years ago. you've lived with so much resentment and hatred towards him; this would be considered closure, would it not?

dazai is up on one knee in front of you, holding onto your ankle in a vice grip. his mouth twitches again into a wider smirk. still perceptive, still arrogant.

"you won't shoot me," he taunts.

and yet, still so fucking stupid.

"watch me," you retort. so you shoot him in the shoulder. the way he cries out and screams is just enough to satiate your blood lust. for now.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[kellykadesperate]

67. “Are you allowed to tell me that?”

set after aaron saves robert from cain during adam and vic's wedding day! a most delectable day to be insane over robert and aaron

Aaron can feel his hands shaking against the wheel. It’s because Robert keeps groaning and shifting like sitting in this car is causing him so much pain. It twists at Aaron’s chest, he feels like he’s going to throw up every time Robert makes the smallest sound. 

He’s in pain. He’s in pain. He’s in pain. 

Aaron blinks quickly and then tails the car off to the side of the road. 

Robert doesn’t even notice for a few seconds, and then he’s puffing out this breath and turning to Aaron. “Why’d you …”

Aaron wants to do something daft. He wants to take Robert to hospital and let them look at his head and his eye and check that he isn’t going to fall asleep tonight, and not wake up. He keeps thinking about that. It won’t leave him alone.

Robert tries to sit up and then he’s making another painful sound. It makes Aaron get out of the car, turn the corner so that he’s opening Robert’s door and taking his seatbelt off for him. Aaron’s hands are still shaking but he ignores it because Robert leans towards him and nearly gets blood down his shirt. 

“Sorry.” Robert whispers, all sound and pathetic and exactly like the man Aaron doesn’t think he’ll ever not love. That news just hits him out of absolutely nowhere. Aaron is crouched down a little, staring at the man who dared to cross his big bad uncle and ruin his own sister’s wedding because he didn’t think Adam was good enough and yet Aaron’s here. He’s here, smoothing a hand over Robert’s back and telling him to spit blood out from his mouth and onto the road so he doesn’t choke on it.

Aaron didn’t think his day would go like this. He couldn’t picture a situation where he’d get lured back in, where Robert would be able to get into his head and mess it about again. 

But Robert’s in pain and nothing else seems to matter. 

Eventually, Robert sits back up. The blood gurgling around his mouth is gone but his eye still looks terrible.

Aaron stares at how pale he is. He thinks about how far Cain would have gone.

“Have you got a death wish?” Aaron asks, once he’s pulled himself out of Robert’s orbit and is sitting back in his own seat. The engine isn’t running anymore. The road is more or less completely silent. It’s just them sitting together. There’s all these things unsaid that are so clearly wanting to bubble out.

Robert looks ahead. “Not my fault Cain’s a psycho.” He says, like an absolute child.

Aaron scowls, the whole expression takes over his face. “So you blackmail him?” He says. “Do you know how stupid and reckless that makes you?”

“Nearly as stupid and reckless as you.” Robert says, and somehow, there’s a small smirk on his face like it’s funny.

Aaron freezes a little. He knows where Robert is going with this.

“He could have killed me.” Robert says simply. 

“I wouldn’t have let that happen. I didn’t.” Aaron feels like he’s on a ledge, scrambling frantically to try and get his point across like it matters, like Robert needs to know. He shouldn’t want Robert to know about any of this. He should want Robert to think he doesn’t care about him in the slightest but it’s impossible to get across apparently.

“You left when he said to.” Robert whispers, like it hurt to watch Aaron leave him alone.

It makes something twist in Aaron’s chest. “Yeah then I came back.” He says, like he needs to remind Robert. He came back. Like he always will. He knows that, this whole ridiculous day has spelt that out for Aaron loud and clear. If Robert needs him, he’ll come running regardless of the situation or the consequences.

Robert looks at him. Aaron squirms a little under it all whenever Robert looks at him like this. It’s like Robert’s really in love, like the thought has caught him by surprise. Aaron has no idea what to do or say so he just stares back.

“You did yeah.” Robert whispers.

Aaron’s eyes flicker and then he turns the engine on again. “He wouldn’t have killed ya, he’s never killed anyone, Cain’s all talk.” He says, despite the way his whole body was shaking when he had to leave Robert alone with Cain.

Robert almost laughs, Aaron picks up on it. “What?” He says.

“Are you allowed to tell me that?” Robert tilts his head to the side and looks smug. Again. 

Aaron bristles slightly, doesn’t answer.

“Sharing all the Dingle secrets with me.” Robert whispers. “I’m honoured.” He says, like he really means it. Aaron sees through it, picks up on the fact that Robert is still too shaken to be genuine right now.

Aaron should feel guilty for talking about Cain the way he has. He should take it back, kick Robert out of the car considering he’s clearly well enough to take the absolute piss. 

Aaron doesn’t do any of that. Instead he drives Robert home, looks left and right like he’s on look out for Chrissie or anyone else. Instead he commits every ragged breath Robert takes to memory and wishes he’s going to be OK. 

“Thank you.” Robert says gently when Aaron rounds the car and opens his door for him. Robert gets out gingerly, hands reaching out for Aaron to hold. Aaron can’t even bring himself to hesitate before leaning towards Robert and scooping him in closer.

[hoeswater]

hey alan mandel and jonathan williams come over here a minute i just wanna talk

[loud-whistling-yes]

pov after 2 days of revisiting your old obsessions you realize that dl!pearl's pov is just very painfully reenacting your preteens/early teens social life in 6 conveniently short episodes with disturbing accuracy

[divinekangaroo]

falling - pettiot - Peaky Blinders (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

PART ONE - DAY ONE

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9

PART TWO - MONTH ONE (Or Maybe Month Two, Or Three)

Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | ?

A Modern AU take on Tommy's immediate return from military service, and the period between his demobilisation and the start of S1.

(Tags shall be progressively updated)

.

Tommy Shelby/Lizzie Stark, Tommy Shelby/Freddie Thorne, Arthur Shelby, Polly Grey, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, John Shelby's Children, Zhang, S1E1 Red Dust Girl | Alternative Universe, Modern AU (ish), No iPhones (yet), Awkwardness, Age Difference, Disassociation, Miscommunication, Banter, Fast Food Vendor of your Choice, Pre-Season, Past Trauma, Flirting, Have I Met You Before, Heckling, Cars, Drug Use, Past Childhood Trauma, Mrs Shelby Lives, Gender Role Dynamics, Small Neighbourhoods, Greta Jurossi Haunting the Narrative, Brotherly Dynamics, Sibling Dynamics, Class Issues, Attraction, Casual Sex, Car Sex, Military Transition Program, Willful Medical Noncompliance, Melodrama, Illegal Bookmaking, 90s Fashion, 2000s Fashion, Slow Reveal, Slow Burn, Coming Home, Dysfunctional Family, Lasting Legacy of Catholicism, Bad SMS Etiquette, Gang Activity, Domesticity, Booty Call, Guilt, Shame, So Much Marijuana, Arms Dealing, Crimes & Criminals, Ill Informed Economic Theorising, Wanking, Ethnicity, Stereotyping

.

[into-the-milgramverse]

Do you ever think about how Amane's warnings were either seen as threats (by Mahiru and audience) or as just test of patience (by Shidou)? Do you ever think about how Amane likely was just trying to protect the ones she cares about? Do you think she didn't actually want to kill Shidou, but felt like she had to to save Mahiru? Do you think that's why she's mad at us for not stopping him?

First MV, shows her helping a (cartoon) cat, getting punished, then promising to be good. Gets voted guilty and punished, giving a message that practicing medicine is bad and deserves punishment.

Second MV, shows what the punishment was and that the cartoon cat was real cat.

Do you think after that first vote result, she started to think of Milgram as the same as her mom? That Milgram has the same rules against medicine? That if Shidou continues to practice it, Milgram will punish both him and kill Mahiru?

Do you think Amane killed Shidou immediately after knowing that he was voted Innocent? Do you think she felt like that was a huge risk and that she'd get punished again, this time for ending a life too early before it was supposed to, but that she thought it was worth it to protect Mahiru from same fate that the cat she took care of faced? Or do you think she waited until she was voted Innocent as well, to get confirmation that it's acceptable to punish someone for breaking the rules? Do you think even then it felt like a risk given how close she was to being voted Guilty again? Do you think she's currently scared of what we'll do now?

Do you think she regrets the decision? Do you think she too blames herself now for Mahiru's death, along with millions of voices that blame her for it?

[confettiinred]

something about these audric and grim pieces make me feel so ?? at ease ?? I CAN’T FUCKING EXPLAIN IT BUT AUUFJDHFJGJFJ,,, I LITERALLY MADENTHE FIRST ONE MY WALLPAPER AS SOON AS I SAW IT AND IT’S SO . 😢😢😢 do NAWWTTT PERCEIVE ME!!!!!!!

[akuma-homura]

On that note though.... I have put all my focus into strengthening Her as much as I am currently able to

Still going through the story to try and get some more rolls out of her banner as well...

[b1gwings]

i’m so into dndads rn i might make a separate blog just so i can RB everything i see

[inkskinned]

which is fine, because love is love, and you're getting gay-married, so it would be kind of ironic if love was only sometimes love.

except The King Of Demons (his is Edmund) is always late, to everything, always. which is fair, because time doesn't work in hell, and it's not like he can just catch a bus. except that you specifically asked him not to do this, didn't you, because he's always doing things like this.

He splays out his hands, the light catching on long, ivory claw tips. god, doesn't he know not to wear white to a wedding?

so many people are screaming right now.

it's not that he's the golden child. you guys had normal parents, middle-class. your mom was kind of an "almond mom," according to your fiancée, who pursed their lips when they found out about how your mom used to wrinkle her nose any time you asked for an extra snack in your lunchbox.

you close your eyes for a moment. think of your beautiful almost-spouse. ashe. their name like a bloom inside you. how the dress looks on ashe's body, their shy little smile. how they'd walked down the aisle, and you'd both been half-laughing, half-crying. your hands had trembled when you saw them. like the whole world was pouring down your throat, golden. like you were catching a moment and casting it in amber.

ashe'd been the one to help you when your parents were pushing for you to invite edmund. god, the amount of fights you'd gotten in with your parents - the same six sentiments, over and over again.

you'd been sitting on your bed, biting your lip, your fingers hovering over the little button send. ashe'd nuzzled your neck. you used to be close, and i think that's important. but you know your relationship to him the most. i'm willing to make the effort, and i love you no matter what you choose, they'd said. we don't have to if you don't want to, though, no matter what your parents say about him.

you'd thrown yourself down, supine, arm over the eyes. he's just... we are just.... you tried to phrase that-which-is-love-and-rage.

you're the normal twin. your "big thing" was only "being a lesbian." in high school, edmund started being able to make birds die by looking at them. you came home, trying to tell your parents i kissed a girl. i think i'm - and they just kind of nodded at you. edmund was eating the bible in front of them, like a goat.

on the bed, you'd held your hands out vaguely to ashe. edmund is a just always a lot.

ashe had shrugged. don't invite him then. and it was that - that they were okay with either of your decisions - that is why he even got an invite, in the end.

and now here he is, like how you wanted (?), and your hands are red, clenched hard around your bouquet. the officiant is crying. some people are on their knees, praying. some are trying to touch your brother, like he could impart a blessing.

"i made it!" he's triumphant. "i know i'm late, i'm sorry, there was - do you know anything about right-wing politicians?"

"i'm going to fucking kill him," you say, although you're not actually sure who you're talking to, or if he can be killed.

ashe is blinking, their face in a tiny oh of surprise. you take their hand, drop their hand, take their hand again. they blink at your brother. their voice is low but steady. "there's, um. is there a dark halo around him?"

you duck your head to meet their eyes. "fuck, ashe. i'm sorry. he wasn't supposed to -"

"did i miss it?" Edmund is swinging his head around far-too-wide. his 2 sets of horns leave little red mist any time they scour through the air. "I didn't miss the kiss, right?"

the town clerk is in the audience, and she's frowning. you send her an apologetic look. she shakes her head. "as we've discussed," she manages to throw her gentle voice over the din, "the wedding isn't official if someone objects. that is the legal statute. which people tend to be understanding of." she sends a dirty look to edmund, and that makes you love her. she seems completely calm, which makes sense, because she works in the town hall, and this probably isn't even her first demon-showing-up-at-a-wedding.

he somehow hears her, holds his hands up. "i'm not objecting!" the back of the event hall catches on fire. of-fucking-course. "i'm not - don't mind me, uh, please continue." edmund sends a look to the back-of-the-room fire and it whimpers and gutters out. he flashes you a winning smile, and then puts his hand to his king's-garb chest and mouths sorry! and then cartwheels his glittering talons to say go ahead.

"i think i'm going to throw up." the officiant's voice is barely a whisper.

you watch in horror as edmund tries to awkwardly slide into a waiting line of chairs. the sound of begging follows him, people on their knees at hell's king. he pats a few of them on the head, holding up his finger in a sheepish shh! while his touch leaves a bleeding rune on their skin. his hooves click, and his footprints leave ruby-bright fireroses in his wake.

he tries to sit down, but the wooden chairs are made for people and not the lord king of demons, so he has to span his furred hindquarters over two seats. he smiles again, offers you a little wave.

the room is dead silent, minus the weeping. you look back to ashe. you ruined this. you shouldn't have invited him. you spent so much money on this event, and ashe looks so fucking handsome, and you haven't even gotten to kiss them. to make it official.

ashe looks up at you, manages a little smile. "could be worse?"

you feel yourself start to smile too, but then edmund's chairs give out, and he falls directly on the floor, and with his startled yelp, everything around him bursts into the cold whip-crease of hellflame, disintegrating everything that isn't-a-person, including the flowers and the decorations and the cake and the tables. everything you saved for months to be able to afford. the venue that you both agonized over choosing. you picked this place because it was significant to both of you and was equidistant from both your parents and had a deal with the local hotel for people coming out of town. two years of planning, literally burning down around your ears.

edmund manages to stop the fire pretty much immediately, but it's too late. the officiant faints clear away. the town clerk gives you a sympathetic look and mouths see you soon and steps neatly out of the room, taking ashe's parents with her, chatting gently. an arched flower frame collapses into dust with a loud whoomp. pretty much nobody is left in the building, and you're standing at the top of the steps, at the fucking hour of your marriage, and there is nothing left but blue-cold embers, the lights blown out in favor of the eerie hellfire glow.

you sit down, hard. after a few seconds, you feel ashe sit down next to you. you put your head between your knees so you don't puke with rage, which would be somehow more humiliating than everything else happening at the moment.

"okay, it's definitely too soon," they whisper in your ear, "but i have to admit there is something that's going to be so funny later about my name being ashe and my wedding going up in flames." they wrap their hand in yours. "i can't believe we worried about candles. we should have just gone with them instead of worrying about safety. are you okay?"

you send them a look. "am i - am i okay? this absolute bitch -" you gesture with your free hand out to where edmund is trying to piece together the cinders of his chair, "ruined my fucking wedding."

your mom is standing awkwardly in what used to be the "family" row of chairs. your father is absent, of course. she makes a noise at you. "don't call your brother a bitch."

"oh my fucking god." you have to put your head between your knees again, fighting that stupid fucking rage-puke urge. your blood pressure has obviously reached "skyrocket".

"he's here, isn't he? you're not being particularly grateful," your mother says, because of course she does.

"oh my god! ohmygod. ohmygod." you feel yourself hyperventilating, and then you start laughing, and you hate the hyena hysteria of it, the way it pitches dangerously close to a sob. "this is just - this is just like you! this is the fucking - you blow out the candles on the birthday cake! you curse the kids i'm trying to babysit! you get straight-A's on every test without studying, and get all the friends, and everyone is obsessed with you! and then when i graduate from art school, do i fucking get a party? nope! but hey, let's throw edmund a party for his 300,000th tortured soul! and his 300,001st! and fucking everything else. and fuck me, i guess! edmund gets hurt on the playground, let's burn down the playground. i got fucking bullied, and our parents don't even notice. i am fucking struggling, but we need to pay attention to edmund. he gets fucking everything. while we're at it, why don't we let him fucking ruin my wedding!"

you are dimly aware of ashe wrapping one arm around you and then the other, and then you are sobbing into their shoulder.

"oh, come on. stop with the hysterics," your mother chides you. "you had a perfectly fine childhood. all kids fight. you should have gotten the ceremony done faster. and you know i didn't approve of you spending all this money when you have student loans to -"

"respectfully," ashe's voice is cold and cutting while they rub circles on your shaking back, "and i know you're about to be my mother-in-law, but -" you hear them force a smile, "maybe you could choose this moment to leave your daughter the fuck alone?"

you are so fucking in love with ashe at that moment that it stops your weeping like you got hit by a truck. you look up at them, and want to go back to crying, just overwhelmed by the sheer fucking amount you care about them, but then you look over at your mother, and her shocked expression, and you burst out laughing.

your mother makes a few almost fish-like motions with her mouth, and then turns on her heel, stomping over cinders on her way out. and then it is just you and ashe and edmund and how you are half-crying half-laughing quietly to yourself, like a tap that won't stop dripping.

edmund has put the chair down. he is staring at his hands. he is at least 500 pounds and over 7 feet tall (he doesn't use metric, he's the devil). and somehow, right now, he just looks... small. crestfallen.

"yeah, i mean." his voice cracks. there's no boom of thunder or hellhound echo. he sounds like he did as a kid, before the strange powers and the levitating and the souls of the damned. he sounds like he did the night he accidentally melted most of the pieces in your first glass art show. he sounds - like your brother. he puts the heel of his palm against his eye. "i ruined my sister's wedding."

ashe offers him a little half-grin. "i do just want to say i love the aesthetic, by the way. but you did very much ruin my wedding too."

he points at them, finger-guns. "....ruined their wedding too." something in the attempt at humor - how his voice breaks on the words, how lonely he sounds. it makes you have to close your eyes against the sound. "....you seem cool," he says. "it's... it was nice to meet you."

you hear him come over, his hooves clacking slowly on the floor. when you open your eyes, he's sitting closer to you.

he opens his hand. inside are two little ceramic figures. wedding cake toppers. "i... i made them for you two. i figured i would try - how you make art, without magic. i... i took a class, and i made - i made them." he looks down at the little white-dressed people in his wide, calloused palm. "it's... i wanted to be ... good. i..." he looks at you, and then at ashe. "i tried, you know?"

ashe reaches up, lets him roll the figures into their palm.

he stands up. folds his hands in front of himself. "i don't. know how to be good. i know it doesn't come naturally to you, either. i saw you... choose. to be kind. you could have treated me different, too. like everybody? i was weird, and everyone knew. if you'd been ... mean? it would have been okay. but you." he shrugs. "one time you tried to kill me in the bathroom."

you don't know why you're crying. you look up at him through the cracks between your fingers. "twice," you croak. "but the second time i had a knife." you tuck your hair behind your ears. "but that was only after you pushed me down the stairs at grandma's and i broke my leg before a dance performance. you fuckin' deserved that one."

"i pushed you because you were being a wretched bitch."

"hey now," ashe says, a little edge to their voice, "that's my wife."

you squeeze their hand. "no, he's right. i had deleted his pokemon gold save file right before the elite four."

ashe drops your hand like you scalded them, showing the only horror you've seen this whole time. "you - girl, what the fuck?"

you shrug a little. "i was being a wretched bitch. and he did break my leg about it."

edmund shifts a little. "i just - you are...." his voice dies.

in your family, you don't say i love you. in your family, you don't touch each other or show affection. in your family, you just show up for each other, quietly. neither of you knows how to speak or process what needs to be said. you can see that lacking flashing over his face, literally playing out in shades of crimson. you get that weird twin-sense of something unsaid.

ashe sets the little ceramic people to the side. "she treated you like a person when everyone else treated you like a prophet."

you cut your eyes to them, and then edmund, who gives you one very short, sharp nod. "i, uh. i can. never try." he clears his throat. "i can never try hard enough. for that. i can - what you gave me. by. doing that. by ... just. i made. one thousand. wedding toppers. so it could be perfect. because - i ... it needed to be perfect." he appears to be dying of embarrassment, which does imply he might be capable of dying. oh good. in case i need to try to kill him a third time.

the thought makes a weird, wet laugh bubble out of you. "remember that one time i failed my math test and you set mr. fog's car on fire about it?"

edmund looks shyly at you, and a very small grin spreads across his face. not the dark lord - just a 30-something year old man who has just upset his one-and-only twin.

"you're throwing us the most ostentatious, egregiously expensive wedding," you tell him. "above land."

he frowns a little. "okay, but i'm not doing anything in miami. the vibes there give me the heebie jeebies."

ashe holds up their hand. "and you'll be repaying the deposit on literally everything. oh, and replacing the cake."

you kiss their cheek and then point to him. "and you'll be on time for it."

he shrugs a little. "okay, i literally can't perform miracles, so like. set the bar lower. i can't promise i'll-"

you look down at your feet. "i'd like you to be my man of honor this time. like. by my side. so. you can't be late this time. okay? we do it the right way. finally."

"huh," ashe says, looking between the two of you. "you guys have the same smile."

edmund's grin becomes a little wider, a little easier. he raises an eyebrow at them. "okay, i get that you're cool, but you're like, very cool about this whole thing."

ashe lifts a shoulder. "used to work for the monster under the bed."

"oh shit, simon? fuck." he points to them. "remind me not to mess around with you."

you want to tell edmund i love you and i missed you, but you can't. instead, you pick up the figurines. they're not perfect, but you can tell hours of his life went into each. his hands are so big - it must have taken him so much work to make these things so small. you picture him with his back bent over a workbench, trying to get a face into a tiny clay figure. the ceramic version of you is smiling. he's given you little fangs and a unibrow. he gave ashe a tiny yellow crown. you make the two figures kiss.

snow is falling indoors, little icicles of hellfire. ashe reaches out and take edmund's hand, and then, very awkwardly, he reaches out and takes yours too.

for a moment, it's just the three of you, and the beautiful quiet of the room.

You’re standing at the altar, about to get married to your beautiful fiancée. When suddenly the king of demons bursts through the door of the room, which naturally causes panic. You tried to warn everyone that inviting your sibling to the wedding would mean trouble, but they kept insisting.