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onlyswan · 3 months

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summary: in which you want to turn back the clock and jungkook wants you to stay.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / word count: 5.8k

content/warnings: mistreatment of service workers / oc felt inappropriately touched by a customer (only mentioned in passing) / (oc works part-time in a restaurant) (then quits) / another dive into oc’s lore / allusion to death / grief grief grief / lots of crying :( / jk wants to move in together :") / mention of s*x (24/7=heaven?) / mention of period blood (they’re in diff contexts js to be clear lol) / u will get pissed and cry and laugh it’s fun <3

playlist! knees - iu ; chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers ; love wins all - iu

> in which masterlist

note: contains lil flashblacks from the giving up drabbles ^^ can be found in the timeline masterlist above this incase u haven’t read them and want to ^^ listen to love wins all when jungkook tells oc to wear their seatbelt (trust me). tried to encapsulate the epiphany of oh. everything’s going to be okay because i am loved when i’m at my lowest. as always reblogs & feedback are appreciated :") come chat!!

—

the rusty swing-set creaks as you unsteadily swing back and forth, staring lifelessly at your white socks and shoes stained with burnt orange. you look up to the sky but the moon and the stars are shrouded by the clouds. not even your favorite snack can poison your sadness with optimism. mouthful of bungeoppang, but you taste nothing, and every swallow only adds to the heaviness weighing on your chest.

your shift should be ending by now, which means you probably should be heading home, but your limbs have given up and refuses to move.

jungkook’s special ringtone ceaselessly disrupts the night scene’s quiet, but there’s no point in answering his calls when you know no words would come out of you.

“are you an imbecile?! you can’t understand basic instructions?!”

“ma’am, i’m so sorry. i’ll take it back and give you the right ord-”

“we’re fucking starving! move faster!”

you flinch as the bowl collides with the tiled floor, producing an ear-splitting sound that reverberates throughout the entire restaurant. you want to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and believe that she just shoved the bowl a little too harshly due to her frustration, but you have a hand over your mouth not due to shock, but the inexplicable pain of having your skin burnt by the piping hot soup… and she’s just… there.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! please understand. she’s just in a bad mood. she’s not- she’s not usually like this.”

you stand on your spot, frozen and speechless, as her husband profusely apologizes. you’re only jolted out from trance when you feel him wiping your legs with crumpled tissue papers, a little too farther up for your comfort. a fleeting tug-of-war ensues when you forcefully rip them away from his hands. you thank him despite not meaning it.

you grip the edge of your skirt as you sit on your heels, picking up the broken shards of glass scattered across the floor. a concerned co-worker swoops in with a broom and you instantly jump the opportunity to save yourself from the mortifying stares, mumbling another thank you as you take your leave.

“you said table six.”

“____, i’m sorry. that was a fault on my part.”

your manager observes your current state. his stare lingers at your feet.

“but they don’t know that! she literally burnt me!”

“look, we don’t have to take this too far. it couldn’t have been that hot. we can see you’re still walking.” his condescending tone makes you feel so small, but it fuels the anger inside of you. “you don’t have to pay for the damages, so let’s just put this behind us.”

you gasp in disbelief, and it borders on a laugh. you feel crazy. you can’t believe this is actually happening to you. he can’t be fucking serious.

the workers in the kitchen remain quiet as tension arises, minds a tornado of thoughts but mouths remaining shut in fear of getting on the bad side of their superior.

“well you…” you hastily strip off your apron, bunching it up into one big ball. “don’t have to pay me anymore, because i fucking quit! i hope this place burns down!”

and you ensure that it hits him on the face before you turn around to march out of the kitchen. on the way out of the restaurant, you nonchalantly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting off the cap as you push the door open. you leave a wet trail behind your steps as you pour the cold water over your feet, a poor attempt to soothe the sharp pain of the injury.

you know it will be alright eventually; you will heal, but this… this is leaving a permanent scar on your dignity.

with a vexed groan, you retrieve your vibrating phone from your pocket.

LAST EVICTION NOTICE— you do not even bother reading the rest of the words that come after that.

“fuck!” you scream, throwing the bottle at the nearest wall, hands coming up to your hair to roughly pull in frustration. the heels of your palm dig into your eyes and your knees give way to the ground. “this is a nightmare.”

it dawns on you that you’ve finally arrived at a surface on the rock bottom that you so awfully dread. you find yourself standing here— infront of the atm machine, staring blankly at the large number displayed on the screen. this money isn’t yours. this didn’t come from your blood, sweat, and tears. it’s an amount that you’re supposed to accept as a payment for the eulogies you had to deliver. you swore you would never do this, but desperate times come when you’re forced to swallow your pride and allow it to rot you from the inside.

you’re once again faced with the ugly difference between surviving and living.

you grab the cash, hastily pushing them inside the pocket of your jacket as if you’re being burnt by them. you feel so nauseous; if only emptying your stomach would untangle its knots.

you don’t need anything from anyone. this is the first and the last time, you swear to yourself in place of your defeated oath.

you don’t want jungkook to see you like this, helpless and hollow, the antonym of the sun he willingly flew too close to. you look pathetic seeking for solace in an abandoned playground, unfortunate soul stuck at fifteen, in denial of the passage of time.

but there goes your lover running towards you, calling out your name, and you begin praying for yourself to disappear into thin air.

much to your disappointment, no wiser being grants your plea, and now you have a man tucking you in his safe embrace, uncaring of his knees being bruised by the ground.

does he need to surprise you when you least anticipate his presence?

“i’ve been looking everywhere for you! i went to pick you up at the restaurant but they told me that you quit! what happened?”

he pulls away, tenderly cupping your cheeks in his warm hands.

“was it your boss again? it’s him, isn’t it? what did he do?”

jungkook dies a little inside. your glassy eyes study his face, a clear picture of distress and concern, but at the same time, they seem so far away… like you’re not certain if you’re truly here.

you unconsciously squirm— your feet retract themselves, escaping underneath the swing; and your ankles twist, and twist, one hiding behind the other.

this doesn’t feel like being stripped naked.

you feel like you’re being turned inside out.

“what’s wrong? baby…” he utters sadly as tears drip from your lashes—one by one— even they are lost and hesitant.

your distant stare remains.

he doesn’t know if you’re even aware that you’re crying. it’s a frightening sight and he doesn’t know what else to do. he holds you in his arms but you feel too stiff for this to be comfortable. the time passes, and he lets it do so in silence.

he waits for you to come back to him.

he waits, and waits, and waits.

“jungkook… i want to go home.”

“okay. i’ll bring you home, baby.” he strokes your hair, breathing out in relief. “yours? or mine?”

only for his world to crumble into pieces.

“my mom…” you whisper, breathless, releasing yourself from his embrace. “i want to be with my mom.”

and only then does he see traces of emotions written on your face.

“i miss my mom so much.”

the crack of your voice gives him an opening to catch a glimpse of your heart, that is but a mosaic of broken parts. pain, grief, longing… the past two years haven’t been enough to make him well-acquainted with the anatomy of your afflictions. he has only witnessed you speak of your family with a proud and affectionate beam; old stories that spark the agent of joy. and despite knowing that you must’ve been battling your pain all these years all alone, he couldn’t bring himself to meddle with how you handled your grief. however, if he’s going to be completely truthful, he was terrified of this— of seeing you so unmoored and broken. his pain is no comparison. quite frankly, it is an insult to yours.

“i miss her so, so, so much. what do i do? i…” you sobs become uncontrollable, overcome by the weight of the world crashing down on you.

how is it possible that you feel nothing and too much at the same time? is what you would often ask before, but today you realize that your pain simply goes beyond what any of your human parts is able to fathom.

“this is too hard… it’s too tiring. i can’t- i can’t. i don’t want to be here anymore. i’m always so scared. i don’t know what i’m doing anym-”

“shh, shhh, baby- baby, breathe for me-”

“how did my life end up like this? i don’t understand! the world- it’s so cruel- i can’t stand it.”

jungkook wipes away your tears, but it’s no use. once you break down, it becomes impossible to remedy. nonetheless, that doesn’t deter your boyfriend from trying. he gathers your weeping and trembling vessel in an attempt to glue you back together, and in while doing so, he also wills himself to be strong for you.

“why did she have to go after them and leave me all alone here? am i not her child too?”

the obtuse questions you’ve been too afraid to ask out loud are being brought out in the open, spilling out from the torn seams of your soul as they’ve become too agonizing to annihilate over and over and over again.

you know the answer. you know she didn’t want to leave.

but you can’t help but to be angry at the fact that her heart gave up. you don’t understand why it had to happen and why you’re being grinded in the mouth of the world.

“i’m tired, i’m so tired. it’s so unfair… i need her with me too…”

jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, gently rocking your tangled bodies — a defense mechanism. you’re succumbing to defeat as if it’s been long overdue; even your voice is giving up on you.

if he had to imagine, the earth must have shared his current dread when it witnessed a solar eclipse for the first time, wired to assume the worst of perpetual darkness.

“jungkook…”

your weak fists desperately grasping at the fabric of his hoodie— the final thread you are hanging on. your words break into stutters and hiccups, salty tears slipping past your lips and stirring their bitter taste.

“i just want to go and be my mom’s child again.”

and he would truly fucking hate to try and get into the implication of your words, but if jungkook is going to be completely truthful— he is terrified beyond words can say. of this; of witnessing you slip away from everything you’ve ever known; of losing you. maybe he’s being selfish, but whatever it takes, he will make you stay.

he swallows the lump in his throat, hurriedly drying his eyes with his sleeve before facing you.

“listen to me, okay…?” his voice isn’t enough to pull your head from underwater; he lightly taps your cheek, even though it breaks his heart. “hey, hey, hey. look at me, baby- look at me.”

he searches for your eyes, begging them to focus on him. and it’s silly, what he does next, pressing a kiss to your lips as if this is a fairytale. but then it works— you tilt your head to subtly nuzzle your cheek against his palm— and he has to quickly recover from being taken aback. you effortlessly make a slave out of his heart.

“you never stopped being her child. and that will never happen! because even with them being gone, you haven’t stopped trying your best to be a good child and older sibling to them. i… i’m a witness to that. every single day. are you hearing me?”

can he get some sort of sign whether he is doing this right or wrong?

“you’re not alone here because you have me. you do know that, right?”

and you want to believe him… you do. but just like how you’re clinging onto him right now for dear life, you can’t forget how you had to beg him to stay.

“so stop working all these jobs! please, i’m begging you! it must also break your mom’s heart to see you torturing yourself like this. it’s not healthy! just focus on studying and let me take away your burdens, please?”

you stop breathing; your features soften like you’ve made it out of a nightmare.

“jungkook…”

“let’s live together, baby.” he sounds sure; he sounds steady, but the waver of his eyes beseeches you. “you’ve been so good to me, even when i didn’t deserve it. please… let me love you in my own way too.”

“stop. i told you… i’m still thinking about it.” you say meekly, avoiding his intense gaze. “i mean, let’s be honest. what would your family even think of me? your aunt already hates me. what if she uses this to prove that she was right about me and-”

“fuck what everyone else thinks. i couldn’t care less.”

the reminder of the disrespect you were subjected to because of him has him seething all over again. his jaw clenches in anger, and he feels obligated to take a deep breath so he can keep himself composed. growing up, he was always taught to be the bigger person, but he simply can’t implore himself to do that if it means turning a blind eye to your hurt.

“i won’t let her get away with that type of bullshit so don’t even bother thinking about her anymore. i’ll take care of it. we can’t let that get into our heads. right, baby? we said that?” his thumb caresses your cheek softly, and you hold on to his wrist, silent as you try to understand him through the thick haze clouding your mind. “i want to be with the person i love. how could that be so wrong?”

you slowly shake your head in response, a little hesitant.

“i won’t leave again. no matter how hard you push me away, i will stay within your reach.”

and here he is, kneeling infront of you, seeking to make true of what he solemnly vowed to you.

are you going to take this away from him? after everything you’ve gone through together?

he is the only thing you have left to lose.

“i love you.” you whisper, initiating the hug this time.

you’re holding him tight, like you don’t ever want to let go, and it brings jungkook to the brink of tears once more.

“i love you so much.”

he sweetly kisses your cheek, but when you pull away to give him that look, a wordless command for more, his lips finally meet yours for the first time in forty-eight hours. they slowly curve into a smile, not at all surprised that he’s tasting sugar. he’d go through hell and back to experience this kind of kiss one time, only to do it all over again.

“let’s go home?”

you blink at him cluelessly. you don’t know why he’s wearing a dimpled smile out of the blue, neither do you know which home he is referring to. nevertheless, you intertwine your fingers with his, choosing to save yourself from this forlorn neverland.

there’s just… one teeny… tiny problem…

“shit,” you mutter to yourself, freezing on your tracks.

“what’s wrong?”

you awkwardly glance down at your shoes, the origin of the squeaky sound that was impossible to be missed by your ears. after inspecting you from head to toe, a worried expression morphs on his face, and you can only show him a shy wince in response.

“i don’t want to make your car dirty.”

“baby…”

his chest feels so much heavier. he is nearly blinded with red. he wants to scream and be infuriated. what the fuck happened back there?

you merely shrug, sending him a forced smile. “do you still have those extra slippers?”

—

“jungkook, i can do it myself.”

he clicks his tongue, his hand around your calf gripping. “stay still!”

you watch him from the passenger seat, your legs dangling from the edge as he carefully takes off your shoes and socks, yet again kneeling on the ground.

“does it hurt a lot?”

“not… a lot.” you answer through gritted teeth.

perhaps the stinging never did quell; it was just pushed to the back of your mind when more painful things surfaced succeeding it.

“who did this to you, huh? i need to go back there and make them pay! what kind of decent human being would do that?!”

“a miserable woman in a miserable marriage.”

in her eyes, you may be naive and she, the decades old wiser— but who is the one with a lover who would wash not their dirty hands, but their feet that have walked a million miles?

“i feel bad for her.” you comment absentmindedly.

you’re too far deep in awe watching jungkook gingerly clean your bare feet with his hands and a bottle of cool water, doing what you were meant to do earlier, if only granted that you weren’t erupting with rage.

“____, you’re too nice.”

“you’re too nice.” you argue. “also, those shoes are hopeless. just throw them away.”

he glances at you with fondness, shaking his head as he softly pats you dry with a clean towel. you stifle a gasp. it’s no longer as bad as before, but your skin still feels warm and raw. this wasn’t in the job description. you decide that you can practice empathy, as well as your strong belief in karma, at the same time. at this moment, you hope that the universe is already crafting tricks up its sleeve, because you’re in a world of fucking pain.

“there you go. wait until we get off the car before you wear the slippers, alright? and you’re not allowed to wear tight shoes.”

he rises to his feet, not wasting the opportunity to steal a kiss.

“yeah, it was wildly uncomfortable.” you mumble against his lips, tugging at his collar to properly respond to his display of affection. “thank you.”

“wear your seatbelt.” his eyes shines with a glint of with uncontainable excitement. “we’re going home.”

—

you stir as jungkook gently shakes your body awake, his muffled voice gradually becoming clearer as you gain your consciousness.

“wake up, baby. we’re here.”

you tiredly rub off the sleep from your swollen eyes, discovering your boyfriend waiting for you where the door of the passenger seat should be.

“let’s get you some more rest.” he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, before standing aside to make way for you, offering his hand as a gentleman.

you must still be dreaming. you assumed he would bring you to his apartment, but you do not recognize this place. this is a different parking space, a different parking lot.

“um… t-this is…” you stumble on your words, feeling lost. “where are we?”

“home,” he smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and turn them into little crescent moons.

you must still be dreaming. the clock attached to a nearby pillar strikes midnight, and unbeknownst to you, a brand new day awaits beyond the dark and empty sky.

you were so thoroughly convinced that you’ve been living a life past the point of salvation… but life stands before you overflowing with hope and glowing with ardor.

you take his hand and allow him to whisk you away to another world.

—

this is beginning to feel real, jungkook thinks as he presses the elevator button. earlier’s excitement becomes interweaved with nervousness. he’s a little dizzy as the giant box ascends. if you feel his hand’s growing clamminess, you don’t show it, your clasp still as firm as before.

“you bought another house…”

“hmm, but this one is a secret.” a confession that is yours truly. “this one is ours.”

your eyes wordlessly speak with each other. neither of you imagined following your hearts could materialize your future plans to the present time. what goes beyond dreaming of beautiful things is still foreign to the both of you, but jungkook is here, willing to free fall with you.

the elevator dings.

he guides you through a well-lit hallway, to a door, and you pay close attention as he punches in the passcode— another set of numbers you ought to have memorized alongside birthdays and anniversaries and id numbers.

your heart races but everything else moves in slow motion. the door opens and you get swallowed by the need to remember every moment so vividly as if you’re reliving it.

the first time you set foot into your own apartment,, the empty space daunted you despite its modest dimensions. however, right now, your head is tracing half of a circle, from left to right, just to study this large space in its entirety— and all you can think about are the endless possibilities forming intimate images of a sanctuary in your head— a place where fears and sadness can co-exist with tenderness and joy.

beside you, jungkook patiently holds your hand.

“this one is ours…” you repeat the words, more so to convince yourself, and they drip with disbelief.

you follow his lead as he walks to the other half of the room, bare feet sliding across the floor.

“this is the living room, and the other side is the kitchen.”

he faces you with a wide grin, the kind he wears when he wants to tell you something he is proud of.

“i was thinking that if we get a big television bolted on the wall…”

he gestures to the blank canvas, letting go of your hand to draw an invisible rectangle on the air with his arms fully outstretched.

“then we can easily watch even from the kitchen.”

he puffs up his chest, side-eyeing you expectantly.

“genius, right?”

“and greedy.” you blink. “i don’t think that’s safe to do while you’re cooking.”

“but i’ll be very, very careful!”

“that’s the bare minimum when you’re holding a knife.”

“okay! i look forward to arguing with you about that on a different day!”

his enthusiasm doesn’t waver. in fact, it is fueled. how could it not? when you’re starting to sound exactly like a couple who lives together?

he captures your wrist and tugs you towards the other side of the room, but you pull him back with a noise of protest.

“are we not going to address…” you hang on to your words, eyes wandering to the floor where there are signs of living. “whatever is going on here?”

a single mattress with a single pillow; a folded blanket neatly sitting on top of it. surrounding them are bottles of water, a laptop, a speaker, and a basket of what you assume are skincare products.

“i’ve been sleeping here lately…”

“i can see that.”

“i didn’t want to buy furnitures yet while you haven’t given me an answer… i just thought that if we’re living together, then we should decide on those things as a couple.”

…he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…”

his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh.

“going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

jungkook feels your stare. oblivious of your thoughts reigning chaos, he tilts his head in question.

how long has he been planning this?

“you okay?”

you blink away the tears brimming your eyes. you shake your head, clinging to his arm. “where were you taking me?”

“this is the kitchen!”

a smile of contentment graces your lips. you’re guilty of admiring the pure, unadulterated joy on jungkook’s face instead of what he is passionately endorsing to you.

“this is the fridge!” he presents to you, swinging the door open. “but there’s nothing inside.”

“what are you saying? there is something.”

the two of you peer at the green can of soda, chilsung cider, left at a far corner. the refrigerator light casts over your curious faces.

“oh, that’s still there?”

the animated sound of your giggles prompts him to look at you, and he couldn’t be more glad to be laughing with you again, bellies aching at the same time.

“do you want it?”

“it’s not peach.”

“let’s move on then!”

there are cups of ramyeon and packs of dried seaweed on the countertop, the photo of his dinner that he sent last night still vivid in your memory. your hand daintily brushes across the white marble, stealing a feel as jungkook drags you to a new space.

“this is the second kitchen and laundry room!”

he waits for a reaction as you survey the room and its overhead cabinets.

“it’s not supposed to be the pantry…? eh, you know what? cooking and doing laundry are more of your thing so you can have them however you want.”

you turn on your heel to walk away, and jungkook follows behind you, celebrating his victory by punching the air and whisper-shouting a yeah!

“what’s here?”

you reach another hallway beside the living room.

“what’s here?” he zooms past you to open a door. “bathroom. there’s a bathtub! but i still need to install grip bars so no one will slip.”

he needs to stop saying things that make you want to make him your husband on the spot.

“and we have my favorite part! the master bedroom, of course!” he swings the door open on the other side. “where else would we spend the most time in?”

“wow, really? i thought you were also endorsing the living room as the bedroom.” you jokingly quirk an eyebrow.

“nonsense!” he cheekily chides you. “you deserve better than that.”

you take a step, peeking inside the empty room that you estimate to be as twice as larger than yours. you can’t say that you care so much about its size, because behind the white curtains, you reel at the prospect of the natural light shining over your face every time you wake up. your mornings have been gloomy since you arrived at seoul four years ago.

he sneaks his arms around your waist, your back resting against his chest, and your being feels so light you might just begin floating when he lets go.

“let’s stay like this for a while.”

“okay,” he puts his chin on top of your shoulder, his soft smile becoming permanent.

the two of you stand at the bedroom’s doorway; the cusp of what could be your entire lives.

“what’s that other room?”

“which one?”

“i don’t know. i see it from the side of my eye.”

he cackles at your humorous nonchalance. “i have more to show you. there’s a guest room… if we decide it to be.”

“cute. i have somewhere else to sleep when i’m mad at you.”

“that’s fine,” he replies after a beat of silence. “at least i’d know where to find you.”

“don’t make me change my mind.”

he cries out your name childishly, burying his face by the crook of your neck. he hugs you tighter. he wants to sleep every night drowning in the sweet scent of your hair. if he had to choose, it would be the most peaceful way to go.

“we have a walk-in closet too!”

“i expected nothing less.” you giggle, not a stranger to his lifestyle. “what’s exciting is that we can finally have a big bed.”

“but i like our small beds.”

“cuddling isn’t all that fun during the summer. trust me, you’d eventually want space.”

“nuh-uh! that’s what aircons are for!”

you roll your eyes at his persistence. “then why did you choose such a huge apartment if you wanted a small bed?”

“so we can have all the space to slow-dance to love songs.”

jungkook, ever the charmer. the butterflies in your stomach come alive beneath his embrace.

“why are you suddenly quiet?” he laughs. “was that too cheesy?”

“no!”

“really?” he spins you around, and heat creeps to your cheeks when he leans in so close that you can perfectly distinguish the brown in his eyes. “so have you given it more thought?”

“given what more thought?”

“there’s nothing to be scared of. it’s only the two of us here, see?” he tells you like overeager puppy. “will you move in with me?”

if this is a dream, you wish to never wake up from it. to have a person care for you this deeply and unconditionally, you want to believe that you have done something right to deserve it.

“i just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

his eyebrows knit together in defense. “what does that mean?”

“the thing is… yeah, sex 24/7 and cuddling and having first times together, that sounds amazing and all… but living with me would probably drive you crazy.”

a tired yawn almost interrupts the end of your sentence, and you cover your face out of courtesy. you sniffle and wipe your teary eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’ve lived on my own for so long. i’m messy and clumsy and i’m used to having everything my way… i mean… i’m willing to compromise, but i can’t promise i won’t be insufferable as hell about it.”

“ah, seriously! you scared me for nothing!” he exclaims, throwing his head back with a groan. “baby, i’ve been living with six other men for the past decade. you know that there was a time when we even slept together in one small room. can you imagine how that must’ve been like for a bunch of teenage boys…? you? messy? think about it again. living with you can’t possibly get worse than that. you don’t have to worry about me! really, i can take it! watch me!”

“but i bleed every month.”

“i’m a man. seeing a little blood doesn’t faze me.”

you make a face. “it’s actually a lot.”

“yah, why are you acting like we haven’t been together for two years?”

“it’s different living together!”

“it’s only natural! i don’t care!”

a noise of complaint bubbles in your throat when he shakes you by your shoulders, coaxing you with an whiny “please baby.”

your chest deflates in defeat. “sure, i guess… as long as we have the big bed, and the slow-dancing-”

“done!” he doesn’t waste his breath, not keen on wasting this opportunity. “anything you want, you have it!”

you narrow your eyes. “and i’ll keep my tutoring job.”

“will you punch the next guy that insists you study at his dorm for me?”

“or i can just keep saying no firmly, baby boy.”

and with that pet name, he instantly folds. “okay.”

“okay?”

“okay, since that’s the only one that you genuinely like.”

“you-” your teeth unconsciously finds your bottom lip to dig into, and you inhale sharply. “…you really love me, don’t you?”

suddenly, you’re raising your voice and waving your hands in the air. you’re feeling too many emotions at once; it’s like when you mix all the colors in a palette and end up creating black. you’re angry and happy and you may be fucking crying again.

“you were just picking up speakers one night and a pretty stranger offers you some boring food and now you want to be stuck with me forever?”

your fist throws a restrained punch to his chest, shoving him backwards.

“oh my god, you’re so stupid!”

jungkook finds this too amusing, tries to hide that he is enjoying this but a smirk is plastered on his face.

“you are loved by so many,” he brushes away the hair that has fallen over your eyes. he tucks them behind you ears and tenderly holds your face in his warm hands. “but i’m confident that i love you the most.”

you are the muse in his dreams. your perfume clings to his clothes. you make him the happiest man on the planet and your pain torments him. what is this, if not love?

“and if that makes me the stupid one? then so be it.”

“when did it become a competition?”

“since you got yourself a competitive boyfriend!”

“okay, fine! let’s make it my fault!”

you throw your arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his face until he’s an uncontainable giggling mess.

“i’m drowning in kisses! nobody help!”

and you hope you’re hugging him close enough that he can feel the love and gratitude flowing through your veins. your eyes flutter shut, and you sigh— tranquility triumphs over chaos.

“are you falling asleep standing up again?”

“no!” you blatantly lie, drawing back with innocence masking your drowsiness. “we still need to go online shopping!”

“what are we buying?”

your face lights up. “appliances first?”

“appliances?” he cheerfully says. “sure! let’s get you new shoes too!”

as he gets dragged to the living room where his laptop is, he mumbles something with an enamored expression. “i should keep working hard.”

—

“yah, why are looking at me like that?” jungkook chuckles upon feeling your poorly concealed stare, diverting his attention away from the laptop over his stomach. “i’m the real deal. the tv is over there, on the screen.”

“just because…”

you snuggle closer to his side, heart fluttering when his arm that is your pillow moves to also hold you. you don’t really mind a small bed. this is the most favorable consequence a nuisance could have.

“i feel sorry.”

“sorry? for what?”

“because i made you sad, didn’t i? i hate that so much.” you sniffle, hand coming up to pat his cheek affectionately. “i know it must be hard for you too.”

“you’re the one who’s in a lot of pain.” he means to firmly speak, but the tremble of his voice rudely refuses to cooperate. “how could you even think of me feeling sad?”

“because i love you. of course i always think of you.” you argue, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “i can’t do that now?”

he sighs. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

a kiss is planted on your forehead— tender and cherishing.

“let’s be happy, baby.”

the sharp edges of jungkook’s fears are eroded in a way. in a universe that relentlessly challenges you to be optimistic, your heart that is well-versed in loving continues to rise above it all.

you echo his words wistfully. “let’s be happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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dcxdpdabbles · 11 months

Text

The bakery is a front!...Right? Part 5

Danny opens his eyes to the sight of a potent magical barrier glowing around him. It would have held off many of his subjects but did nothing against his court, much less the king.

Then, he noticed he was in some sort of cave, strapped down to a fluffy bed. There isn't much he can see besides the various machines hooked up throughout the place, various cars, two planes, what appeared to be a training ground, and a.... dinosaur?

Where the hell am I? He thinks, trying to recall what happened to lead him here. But all he can clearly remember is fighting with Phantom over going to the park. Everything after that was a blur.

He tries to move, frowning at the very little give of his restraints. One around each of his four limbs, three large belts over his knees, stomach, and upper chest.

After a few minutes of struggling as a human, he slumps in place.

His blue eyes fly over the runes that shine along the barrier's side, noting three magical signatures. This was a group effort. Strange. Who would put Danny here?

Phantom remains silent but watchful from their shared eyes as Danny scans his surroundings again to ensure no one is around before shifting. As soon as his ghost forms, the barrier flairs, indicating an alarm has been tripped.

Danny sighs tiredly, allowing his body to pass through the restraints. Phantom reaches out to push his hand through the barrier, wiggling his fingers on the other side. Just as they thought, it's not going to keep Danny inside.

Feels like water. Phantom says, and Danny agrees. Whoever put him in here either overestimated their strength or underestimated Danny. He hopes it's not another death cult. Those always left him feeling sick after dealing with them.

It's then Danny realizes another fact. Phantom does not feel like his body trying to split in half; Phantom feels like himself again, another part of who makes up Danny.

Like the inner voice when you read in your head, just as his ghost half had always been since he was fourteen. Danny had been in this creepy cave for over a week because his mating season had finally ended.

That also meant that Danny was missing a full week of memories.

He is going to have some words with whoever is responsible. Danny rechecks the barrier, realizing it's still flaring, and decides to wait for them to approach him. He can pretend he's trapped inside, hopefully creating a false sense of security and getting answers from his kidnappers.

He crosses his legs under him just as a portal rips open a few feet away from his barrier and out rushes a blond man in a trench coat. Behind the man is a woman in a magician outfit and a teenage girl in a purple cape. Danny scans each person, noting the barrier's magical signature matches them all, and knows they are responsible.

Trench coat falls to one knee, bowing his head in respect. "Your majesty."

The other two follow suit after he speaks, repeating his greeting. It seems Trench Coat is the leader. The ghost king leans back on his hands, frost slowly spreading over the blankets under his palms.

It crawls to the edges, slowly falling down the legs of the bed and around the floor. Danny stops it right at the lines of the barrier, knowing the blond man is watching it. The blond man's shoulder relaxes when the frost fails to go over the drawn lines.

So they did underestimate Danny. Well, it made things easier, at least.

"Where am I?" Knowing Phantom's voice echoes and unsettles the three kneeing magic users, he asks. Sam had once told him it sounded like the cracking of ice glaciers from within the giant ice caves after his friend returned from a trip to the artic with her parents.

Danny wasn't exactly sure what that sounded like, but he had always thought it made him more intimidating, especially when he kept his voice a regal calm. Tucker said the calm made it extra creepy, and he wanted to watch these three sweat right now.

"The Batcave, your Highness." Trench Coat responds. Danny's jaw drops.

"The what cave!?" He gasps, springing up from the bed to spin around and look at his surrounding better. He knows he just shattered the illusion but come on! It's the Batcave! This place was a legend among his customers! "Batcave as in Batman!?"

"Indeed." A new voice calls and Danny's head snaps toward a man hiding within a shadow. He's good for a human, but although the shadows open their arms to him, they are not part of him, and Danny can trace every inch of him as easily as though a spotlight had been shined on him.

"Batman" He whispers in awe. The Dark Knight steps out into the line of sight of the other three, ignoring Trench Coat when the blond man starts to hiss at him to kneel. "I got kidnapped by Batman. That's so metal."

Batman, to his credit, doesn't even flinch at the accusation. "You were deemed a danger to the public."

Danny snorts. "Been there. Done that. Got a cookie on the way back."

The mask man's eyes narrow. "Are you aware of the damage you have caused? The lives you have potentially ruined since arriving in my city?"

"Dude, I have no idea what you're talking about. All I did was open a bakery." Danny glances down at the magic users before waving a hand. "You three can stand now, by the way."

The three stand as Batman steps up against the barrier. He looms over Danny in a poor attempt at intimation. Even with having to tilt his head back to keep eye contact and the glowing yellow stip of magic, Danny finds himself on equal footing with the human.

"Batman, bugger off. Now." Trench Coat hisses, yanking the other back a few steps. "We do not need a war with one of the most powerful beings in the multiverse."

"A being that tried to steal my sons." The other man growls, and Danny blinks.

"First of all, I didn't even know you had kids. Second, I have never met them in my life, much less steal-"

"Red Robin will not be going with you, no matter what you say!" Batman interrupts. "If I have to keep you here until the contract is neutralized, I will."

"This is not helping B." The woman dressed like a magician says. She was beyond nervous, a slight tremble ranking her frame. "We're supposed to be negotiating the terms of the engagement."

"The engagement?" Danny mouths, confused.

"We have his sister, Jassmin Fenton. That's a good enough starting point-" The girl in the cape starts, and Danny snaps to attention at his sister's name. Her neck is in his hand, cutting off her words with a chock gasp. He sneers in her face even as the other three scream at the speed he crosses the barrier.

"Where. Is. Jazz."

"Raven!" The other woman screams. "Prat eht gnik ni a egac!"

Her magic washes over him but freezes as Danny's power overtakes it. The spell lands on the ground as a sparkling clump of ice.

The girl claws at his hands, trying to pry him off even when a bear tazer slams into his side, sending electricity throughout his body. If he had been fourteen that would have been enough to have scared him enough into letting go.

He's not a little kid anymore, though. He backhands Batman away from him, catching the tazer he drops as he is flung and throwing it at Trench Coat.

It slams against the man, knocking him on his ass. "I didn't even do anything!"

Danny raises the girl, wondering if he should squeeze more- it's not choking her. He just wanted to scare her.- when Ellie came flying from the direction of a large stone stairway. It seems the Batcave was underneath something. "Danny, stop! Let her go!"

"They kidnapped Jazz!" He yells, eyes blazing in an angry green. Raven's eyes widened at the color. She chants a spell, but her magic is frozen like Zatanna's was before it could even form. She looks stricken.

Not surprising since magic is supposed to be one thing to never fail against the paranormal. Too bad for her Danny is the king and thus far more powerful than the average ghost.

"No, they didn't! She literally upstairs flirting with Jason!"

Danny lets Raven go to swing his head in Ellie's direction. "Who the fuck is Jason!?"

"A really buff book nerd."

"Of course he is."

"Yeah, he's also Peter Draper." Ellie continues with a What can you do shrug.

"Oh, word?" Danny tries to imagine Jazz and Peter, but his employee is so short-tempered that he finds it odd his sister would ever look his way twice. Then again, Peter was only short-tempered because he was trying to keep Alvin safe from Phantom's charm, so....maybe that's what got her attention?

"Your Highness," Trench Coat clears his throat. "We really need to discuss the engagement."

"What engagement?"

Ellie flies over to drape herself across his shoulders like a floating scarf. "The one between you and Timothy Drake."

"The Wayne CEO?" Danny never met the guy; how was he engaged to him?

"Yeah, but you know him as Alvin Draper or Red Robin." Ellie shrugs at his Godsmack expression. "The Bats thought you were selling drugs, using kids as carriers, and using the bakery as a front to cover up your crimes."

"Drugs? Child endangerment!? Why would they think I would do something so terrible?! My bakery is a lovely place!"

"Cause you're kind of shady, Danny. Fruitloop shady."

"I'm disowning you." Danny turns his attention back to the four - heroes? If they were with Batman, they had to be right?- and frown. "I love Gotham. I was just trying to sell pastries and help my community."

"Yeah, but you're still shady." Ellie laughs, ignoring the disownment like every other time Danny threatened her. "They sent in spies to figure you out."

"Spies? In my bakery?" Danny repeats, horrified. He snaps his fingers at his sister, narrowing his eyes. "You can never tell Andres he was right."

She bares her teeth in response, and he knows his store manager will be unbearable come Monday. Danny covers his face wanting to scream, until Batman steps to growl at him. "Tim isn't going anywhere with you."

Danny squints at him. "You're making it sound like I'm taking him by force."

"You are." And another voice jumps in, but this one is familiar. Danny twists around to see Alvin-er Tim calmly walk down the large stairway wearing only white pants. Along the sides of the pants are runes that make Danny's stomach drop.

They're the marking of a human sacrifice in the ghost zone.

"I won't resist." Tim continues stopping before a horrified Danny and clasping his hands tightly. Tim's gaze rests on his feet, every inch of him portraying submission. A group of people quickly come down the stairs, each trying to talk over the other, but Danny can't take his eyes off the human, giving himself up.

Phantom's core weeps. When a human is made into a sacrifice, there is nothing other ghosts can do to intervene. It's one of the Rules within the zone, like Truce Day. There was nothing he could do to save his employee.

"Who?" He whispers his ghostly glow highlighting the youth in Tim's face. Only nineteen. "Who do you belong to?"

Tim's hands twitch, but it's the only sign of discomfort as he lowers his gaze even more. "To you, your highness."

"Wha-"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Jazz yells, walking over to whack him on the head. Ellie moves so her hand can reach his skull and punches the back of his head. Several people gasp, scandalized, but she does seem to care as she starts nagging. "Daniel Fenton! You let this boy out of his human sacrifice engagement with you right now!"

"His what with what?!" Danny screams back, only to have Sam walk around a blond woman and stomp on his foot. "Ow!"

"This a dick move, Danny! Tucker, come over here and tell him!"

His best friend appears only to punch him in the gut. "It's mess up, man! Tim didn't even know he was walking into a fae circle when he went to your apartment!"

"Stop hitting me! I don't even know what the hell is going on!" He yells, rubbing his bruised stomach.

Jazz crosses her arms and taps her foot. "Five. Four."

"Why are you counting?"

" Three. Two"

"Jazz, seriously, stop it."

"One. Zer-"

"I, High King Phantom, release Timothy Drake with no conditions!" He screams, cowering away. The runes on Tim's pants snap like broken chains. "Just please don't say zero!"

"That's what I thought." She says, nodding her head and then laughing. "I can't believe that still works on you. I'm sorry we didn't explain, but I wanted to get Tim out of danger as soon as possible. Tim was the first to find you when the Bats raided your house a week ago, looking for non-existing drugs. Phantom took over in a mate craze and tried to keep him along with Damian- er Robin- prisoners. "

"We all had to join forces to free them, but you were too powerful. You ripped a portal into the ghost zone and took them." Sam takes over giving Danny a stink eye. She always does hate when Danny slips away to the zone to avoid them. "Tim struck a deal with Phantom agreeing to be his human sacrifice/ husband in exchange for his brother's freedom while the rest of us tried to get to the zone."

Danny doesn't know what to say but feels his mouth moving. It's Phantom who answers. "Again, from the bottom of my heart. My bad. Really. I just wanted a baby."

Ellie chirps, "Baby fever is a medical condition Phantom. Don't sweat it."

"Maybe sweat it a little." A man shouts from beside the frozen Tim. The teenager is staring at Danny with a kind of worship looking upon a saint. And a lover. Danny blushes slightly. "You stole my baby brothers."

"Richard. I can not have this conversation again with you." Phantom rolls his eyes and fades back into Fenton as he powers down. "All I did to Tim was try to cover him in blankets, feed him and make him sleep. My human side wasn't even aware of things."

"Still not cool, Phantom. I thought Danny was going to retake him after this visit," Richard responds, pressing Tim into his side. "Even if it was just due to your mating season, don't repeat it."

Danny takes over with a raised brow. "Don't go into my lair during my mating season, then. Who had you snooping?"

"We did what we had to." Batman is notably less hostile now that the contract between Tim and Danny is broken. Danny considers his words and then nods. He gets that. He would have done the same if he thought some creep was luring the street kids into something dangerous.

"Danny," Tim says, approaching the halfa "Will you go on a date with me?"

"Drake! No!" A child screams from the crowd, but Danny can only see those gorgeous blue eyes, and something deep within him uncoils. Phantom settles in Danny's soul with a content sigh. It's found its mate, after all.

"Yes, I'll go on a date with you." Danny pauses. "You won't work at the bakery anymore, right? I can't date my employees. That's a power imbalance."

Tim laughs leaning in to press his lips against Danny's. The other human's outraged cries fade away as Danny melts against him. "How could I ever think I could resist you. You're too perfect. "

"Wait- what?" Danny blinks, but Tim shushes him with another kiss. Both ignore how the Bats leap in to pull them apart, or Team Phantom rushes to protect Danny and fight them off.

John Constante watches the two groups with a frown "So...no war?"

"I don't think so?" Zatanna responds, confused, while Raven watches impassively.

Danny was right. Come Monday, Andres is unbearable, but Tim comes over for lunch and a quick make-out session, so it's worth it. Manolo returns later that day to invite Danny to his school band performance. His mother is now on her way to recovery, finally allowing him to learn the flute.

All is well in Phantom Bakes.

(Part 1), (Part 2), (Part 3), (Part 4)

#dc x dp crossover #dcxdpdabbles #dead tired #The bakery is a front!...right?#Part 5 #End #Tim sort of fell in love with Phantom #and with Danny #Danny wake up babe- a new Phantom lore dropped

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

Text

wonder how i got by this week, i only touched you once

authors note; hi! this is my first but also not really my first jj piece. i had an old account here but i deleted it over a year ago, however my love for obx has not changed which explains why i am back lols. i am just testing the waters again here, and letting my thoughts go. i also proofread but sometimes not well enough so you may come across an error or two. gif and divider creds to owner. & feel free to send asks, guidelines for those are coming soon.

warnings; fluff, very clingy!jj, & language

summary; if jj could sow his skin to yours, he would.

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

an imprint.

you were sure that was all that was going to be left of you on that twin mattress. not that you were deemed in your last moments of life or anything, but because your boyfriend’s grasp on you in his sleep is not suitable for the weak. it should be described as something resembling a death grip. body tinging with restlessness & the mere moments of having laid here wide away for the past two hours. jj’s body heat radiating onto you at a battle with the sun, that is currently piercing through jj’s bedroom window at the chateau. who knew delirium would gather as quickly as it did, every time you peered toward the bathroom you swore it got three feet farther. hair plastered to the sides of your face, you huffed out of frustration.

jj was damn near on top of you. legs wrapped miraculously around yours, twisting and tangling themselves together. his black boxers riding low, as his waste lovingly crushed yours. the sleep weight of him, was like jj plus two. not to be dramatic but you were gasping for air at one point. his top half, guided by his bottom half. skin sticking to skin, whilst you glistened with sweat, jj somehow still had features like that of angel. well, pardoning the snoring. the abs of his stomach glided against your ribs, hanging onto you as if you’d be gone with one goodbye. the tips of his disheveled blonde locks tickled your temple. mouth slack open, roaring desperately into your ear.

what anyone would be thinking right now is, why not just fucking get up ?

two issues with that. the stickiness of your skin unattaching itself from his was sure to wake him up. anytime you made something even resembling a movement he found a way to force you close into him. and he would never let your hear the end of it, he’d make certain to whine and complain all day about “how you wouldn’t love him back” or some shit like that. he’s definitely more dramatic than you, however this was not cuddling. this was a bear hugging a tree and you were his tree to mangle and rip apart whenever he saw fit.

the other issue being, jj’s room has miscellaneous trash littering the entirety of it. in an instant, if your leg were to loom over the side of jj’s bed the crackling of a beer can or a water bottle was going to crush beneath your foot.

“fuck me,” you silently cursed yourself.

nearly approaching three pm, is what jj’s alarm clock read. you still to this day wonder why such an unproductive, procrastinating type person has the need for one, but that’s just jj.

you’d decided you couldn’t bear taking it anymore, combination of hot breath shelling your ear mixed with the stench of muggy air. you craved a shower, brushing your teeth, to piss for Christ’s sake, and your personalized skin care routine if you could muster up enough time to do so …

wriggling a tad, you pulled back the limp limb that is his arm which has been thrown over your neck for best part of his slumber. jj being a light sleeper, it was stupid of you to even attempt. within milliseconds his arm is thrown over your collar bone, whisping you into him once again. out of instinct a minuscule peck was placed to your ear lobe, his breaths interrupted by your movement. a faint grumble between his lips, signaling for you to keep your ass still.

but, you simply could not. you were going to get up, and you refused to feel horrid for it because jj has had well over his ‘must have’ eight hours of sleep.

“j,” you gulped. contemplating today’s reaction of the constant battle, you blink slowly awaiting his response.

a hm escaped jj’s lips, barely awake but staying awake because his girl never deserved to be ignored.

“let me up,” on the brink of a demand, his eyes opened fully at that, furrowing eyebrows out of frustration.

jj wanted you to save him until the both of you were buried alive. he hungered to be inside of your skin. the true depth of being his girlfriend, you already acknowledged those things. there’s no showering alone, there’s no eating alone, no going to the bathroom alone, you don’t remember the last time you did your own makeup alone. he knew that if he was going to be with someone it could not be just anyone, the dynamic had to work. he was aware of his neediness and constant clinging, you were as well, before you even begun dating you had the willingness to admit you always had a soft spot for jj. you weren’t sure if it was the empath in you and the sheerness of being a human being. he’d been abandoned and abused since he was young, you wouldn’t be the one to return the favor.

the both of you just work.

it makes sense that the passion and the ethereal ache for want has never left, loves you just the same as the day he met you in eighth grade.

bringing him to his now decision as to wether or not he wanted to actually let you up or to fuck with you.

“stay with me.”

he uttered; partially truthful, partially not. he despised the feeling of the empty bed settling in if you were to get up, though he’d known you were due for a piss right about now.

“i have to get up, m’all sweaty and you aren’t helping.”

your explanation was understandable, but he still wasn’t having it. an eternity encompassed in your affections was a dream, and living in that dream he would presume possible for as long as you’d allow him.

“suffer a few more minutes.”

“j, i’m serious.”

he edged a tight lipped smile, noticing the eye roll and glistening beauty of your forehead. eyes inspecting you as though it was the first time. your sports bra adorned just how he’d liked, chest rising and falling faster then usual, appearing as if you’d ran a mile and then some. something so sweet about the scent of your skin, he’d breathe in continuously saturating his senses in the symphony that is you.

“what’s a man gotta do for few more minutes hm?”

he’s atop you now, hands at either side of your head. towering over to make eye contact— a sign that you yearned for him as he did you.

staring up at him, a yes is on the tip of your tongue but you’ve sacrificed enough of your day dedicated to cuddling jj. shuffling his weight onto one hand his thumb dusted past your chin and to your cheek bone, trying to lull you back in all at once. tilting your head in a swift movement, he lowers himself itching to press your unearthly soft lips with his. you did not oblige, smashing a hand to his lips.

“you’re not getting a kiss.”

“then you aren’t getting up,” he chimed. “as easy as that, baby.”

“jj! i am hot, and i smell like ass, if you don’t let me up don’t expect a kiss at all.”

you bargained, unable to win this fight you’d be giving in within minutes.

“well, i for one, like hot ass .. your hot ass in particular.”

your throat ran dry, willing to just do it out of desperation for a shower. the feathered blonde of his hair wavered as his head turned about, with the click of his tongue murmuring a muffled tick tock against the back of your hand.

“one fucking kiss jj.”

you’d agreed, hand faintly falling backward as you embraced him. your lips pucker for a slight peck but jj had far more in mind. the peck tainted his lips, the peck was for hurries only. jj ruled this as a no hurry situation though to you it was past a hurry. when you pull away from the peck, jj writhes his hand around your neck gently. wrestling his pair of lips with yours, teeth pulling at your lip for entrance, and you didn’t find yourself pulling away. two tongues swiveling and swirling just the way jj liked. God, he just could not get enough of the way your tongue molded with his. besotted that they fit together just right.

you break the trance, not allowing jj to reel you back in again.

“gotta brush my teeth now, j.”

your voice somewhat pleaded, a small boyish pout forming. groaning and all the extras accompanying jj maybank.

“okay okay, i’ll give you a few.”

rolling off of you, he gave way for you to do all that you pleased. you grinned his way as he sent a toothy one back. you felt free, as you did all the times before you had to force jj off of you. you could move and you did so at a rapid pace, before the whining begun. kicking beer cans out of the way you seemed to take your first step to the bathroom but that is until the palm of jj’s hand collides with the bottom of your ass.

“hurry up, you sexy motherfucker!”

your cheeks tainted red at his outburst, all of the cut could’ve heard it. but you laugh with ease, at your attention seeking boyfriend.

“won’t be long okay?”

you offer him a hug, a show of infatuation; before you were officially off to the bathroom, with intentions of closing the door. he encapsulates you, swallowing you whole with his arms. he peppered multiple kisses to your forehead.

“don’t shower without me, pretty girl.”

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da-shrimping-station · 2 months

Note

I really liked your headcanons about the seraphim’s!

Please tell us if you have more, no need to rush, take your time answering this. You can reply once you get new ideas ☺️☺️

hiii! im glad you appreciate the headcanons 💕

you're in luck cuz i had a longer list and just posted some of it first cuz i wasn't sure if it will be well received

lemme post the rest of it here!

and i got some angst lmaoooo

more sleepy seraph cuddle pile headcanons:

at first they each had their individual mattresses and they pushed it all right beside each other but in the end they got one big mattress to accommodate everyone (especially Raphael's wiggling around)

at some point they all got tired of Raphael's moving around that they burrito'd him in blankets (he does not like it unless Lucifer is the one doing it)

if Lucifer catches Gabriel getting up to pray, he offers to have a quiet conversation instead until they both fall asleep (Gab would get carried away talking and not notice that Lucifer had already tapped out but he just smiles and goes to sleep)

there are times when those little angel mochis come up to add to the cuddle pile

RIP any angel mochi that end up in Michael's arms (most of them don't survive his death grip of a hug)

they've tried tying Michael's hair when he sleeps but it's too soft and silky that whatever scrunchie they use slips off during the night

Raphael rolling off the mattress is considered normal (honestly im glad they sleep on the floor cuz have y'all heard how a body drops from a bed onto the floor? that shit wakes me up in a panic no matter what)

since they can't always stop Gabriel from his nightly bullshit, Michael gave everyone sleeping masks (but it's still no match for Gab's halo especially when he makes it shine brighter on purpose because fuck you Michael)

whenever Lucifer is the last one to fall asleep, he goes around tucking everyone in properly (loosening Michael's grip, making sure Gabriel is fast asleep, untangling Raphael from the blankets and righting his limbs and wings) before going to sleep himself

HAVE SOME ANGST!

everyone had trouble sleeping after Lucifer fell

so much so it took a long while for the three of them to sleep in the same space together again

at that point, they swapped out the big mattress for the individual ones like before

they all get pissy and snappy towards each other (Michael especially) whenever the mood is particularly sour that night

they fall asleep out of exhaustion more than anything, barely acknowledging each other before going to bed and after waking up

their nightly habits didn't stop but they don't do it as much since they aren't that comfortable when sleeping anymore to the point it kinda mellowed out

in the end they slowly got used to Lucifer's absence

sometimes Michael drapes his wings over the others like how Lucifer used to (they notice but won't say anything and it's not like Michael will admit to it when confronted)

#shrimpy asks #what in “hell” is bad?#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in hell is bad #whb #whb headcanons #whb lucifer #whb gabriel #whb michael #whb raphael

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circeyoru · 3 months

Note

Yandere Alastor react to soul owner reader it hurt [ again ] but this time it's a badly injury.

Let's just say the reader got sneak attack by some demon.

[ Who ever that demon is Alastor not going let that demon go in the most peaceful way ever ]

Nothing much I just want to see Alastor being really protected and in his true form.

After he's finished with that demon Alastor quickly helped the reader and being really really protected if anyone getting a bit just a little bit too close Alastor well standing at deadly also really clingy like cleaning more than usual.

[ I think the reader understand why but get a bit annoying but understand why ]

That's all I got like I said before stay healthy and strong don't forget to drink water too!

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

I gotcha! I'm setting this as before Alastor gave you his soul. We don't have enough moments for those times. So this one will be a bit long~

Enjoy!

It was a simple shopping trip. One simple shopping trip. In and out. As simple as that. A 3-year-old would have gotten things done as easily. But nooooo. This is Hell, things are bound to be troublesome.

Like this stupid scene.

"Ugh..." You gripped onto your dominant arm, a big gush that covered your arm with blood oozing out of it. One of your eyes squeezed shut from the pain, and you sat in the debris of what remained on the shelves of canned food. Your legs had long given out from the knockout and impact. "What's your problem?"

"Maybe you should have given me everything, instead of being such a f**ker and act all cool and sh*t." The demon snarled, picking up a random beer bottle to aim another throw.

You closed your eyes shut; you just have to take it and let this stupid demon have his fun unless it was of a sexual nature, then you can heal yourself and get home to your comfortable anime and music. Your body tensed as you mentally prepared what's to come.

Only, it didn't. Instead, there was a loud static that rang.

Your good eye opened and widened a bit when you saw the scene in front of you.

"Dear, you were taking a while. I knew I should have come with you instead of standing guard." Alastor's radio-filtered voice growled threateningly while his antlers grew in size and length. His sclera turned black, his iris glowed red, and his form enlarged to tower over the market shelves.

"Your funeral.." You sighed as your book holster, picking out your book and turning to a page to rip it out and blow at it. A transparent jelly-like substance dome formed around you, a barrier. "Honest, I warned you."

The demon laughed, "You think this is intimidating? Sure, go ahead and kill me. Demons can't die unless with those flying f**ker's f**king weapons anyway!"

You rolled your eyes. At this point, this demon was being a complete idiot that death was too good of an end to give. "Yeah... A quick and painless death is not exactly his style." Your eyes wandered to the side, "Ask the souls in his broadcast later on."

"Broadcast?" The demon turned its head back to Alastor, fear and regret on its face. "What..."

You tried your best to ignore the demon's screams and Alastor's maniacal laughter. The nearby demons also tried but failed to leave the vicinity. But it was hard to ignore the occasional blood splatters that came in contact with your shield dome, every time red came into your peripheral vision, you unconsciously flinched. It has gotten to the point that there were limbs thrown all around the place. You shouldn't have glanced over to Alastor because you saw him devouring a demon whole in his giant form.

You turned away. Sure Hell was disturbing and you watch similar things, but this was so much different when experiencing in real life. Not to mention, Alastor was your roommate at the moment. At times like these that you wonder if he even needed you saving him from that time.

Silently, you took out your pages to weakly scribble on the page for a light form of healing. When you were done, there wasn't a wound on your body to prove your pain or the torn clothes. Still, you didn't move because you didn't want to be a moving target to the crazy psycho demon who was having his fun.

The last straw was made when the demon's mangled body was dragged into the shadows while claws tried to save its fate. "Hey! Help me! Please! I'm sorry! Mercy!"

Alastor grinned, enjoying and savouring the pleading demon that was showing the two of you such a pitiful display. The sick joy he felt when he brought the poor thing to your mercy. Oh, this has to be love. He can't imagine another being taking away attention that was rightfully his but you.

And that cold and indifferent in your eyes, that pretty face that only displayed the hint of annoyance and disgust to the demon. "Like I told you when you first stupidly approached me: You'll regret talking to me."

Alastor's head snapped to the side, the shadows dragged the demon into his cane. Screams of the demon echoed but then silence came. Another voice of screams to the endless broadcast of torture.

As quick as it started, it ended. Alastor shrank down, fixing up his outfit before his eyes wandered to where you were. He made quick strides to you and bowed in a manner that was so familiar to a certain character. "My Dear, everything's dealt with."

The barrier dropped after a few seconds when you accessed that he was speaking the truth. It was more in the way of knowing he wouldn't direct his bloodthirsty destruction onto you as well. Since you weren't very nice to him, "So it would appear."

Alastor's eyes narrowed while his smile grew, solely focused on your weakened self. "May I carry you back? I can't imagine letting myself watch you limp through the streets!"

You looked away with a scowl and a slight frown, you didn't want to admit it, but you were in no condition to walk back and your healing took a bit out of you. "Fine. Just this once."

Swiftly, without missing a beat, Alastor already had you in his arms like one would carry a princess or lady. "Wonderful! I'll treasure this moment!"

You made yourself comfortable, you knew Alastor would take the long way home, you played with your fingers while you listened to his heartbeat that was a bit fast. You peeked up at him, he was keeping a watchful eye on the demons around.

"Don't get used to this. You're leaving soon."

Alastor didn't say anything, but his laugh told you he saw it as one hell of a joke.

Later on when you look back on this moment, you'll be wondering if that was meant for him to hear, or yourself.

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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genshin-obsessed · 4 months

Note

hello, hope you're having a good day

could I maybe request reader, caelus and dan heng (together) comforting oneanother after one of them had a particularly violent/disturbing nightmare

thank you a lot I love your writing 💕

Hiya!! Thank you for the request and thank you for the compliment! 💖 I hope you like it~

Word count: 868 Warning: I kinda get detailed when explaining the nightmare, so just be wary. Mentions of blood and death.

Safe in Our Arms

Dan Heng suffered from nightmares more often than he liked to admit. He didn’t like talking about them, in fear of having to relive them. But you and Caelus already knew about them. You knew the frequency of them too, but you didn’t bring up what he didn’t want to talk about.

Almost the moment either of you asked if he suffered from a nightmare, he’d look down, admit it, and then mention he didn’t want to talk about it. Being respectful, you and Caelus kept from pushing the subject. The nightmares plagued him and the last thing you wanted to do was push for questions.

That is, until one specific nightmare. The one that completely broke Dan Heng.

Dan Heng laid on the ground, wounded and exhausted. Demons of his past tormented him but this time it wasn’t just him. Both you and Caelus were there as well. Your lifeless body laid just a few feet from Dan Heng, who desperately tried to reach out to grab your hand. Yet, you were just too far.

His eyes shot to Caelus, who was still alive but not for long. He frowned, reaching for Dan Heng but before Dan Heng could react, Caelus’ body was forcefully yanked away into the darkness that surrounded him. His weakened screams echoed around Dan Heng who was completely helpless to do anything.

“(Y/n)…” he croaked, attempting to reach out for you again. He flinched whine his hand touched the cold blood that surrounded you. Your blood. His fingers just barely grazed against yours and they felt ice cold. Why were you so cold? Why couldn’t he grab your hand? Why weren’t you looking at them with those sparkling eyes like you always did?

His body felt so heavy, it felt so unmoving. His eyes were drooping and he just couldn’t keep them open. His worry for Caelus, his sorrow for you, he couldn’t do anything about them because he felt so… heavy. Like weights were tied around his limbs, like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Don’t… please don’t take them away from me…” Dan Heng begged pathetically, looking around for anyone to listen. But he was alone now. You were gone, Caelus was gone, the dark shadows were gone. It was just him, all alone.

But it wasn’t silent. Screams filled his ears, pleading of mercy filled his ears, it was so loud. So, so loud. All Dan Heng could do was scream with them- joining them in their torment.

●○●○●○●○●○●

He was finally ripped from his nightmare, a cry escaping his lips as he felt his body jolt. Dan Heng shot up out of bed and looked around frantically, desperately to get his bearings.

“Dan Heng!” You called as you grabbed his flailing hands, steadying him a little. “It’s ok! It’s ok!” Once his eyes landed on you, they widened even more if that was possible and embraced you without hesitation.

“You’re alive!” He noted how you felt warm, so warm and alive. He breathed in your scent, gripping so tightly it began to hurt.

“I-I am, but th-that hurts…” you mumbled yet Dan Heng didn’t let go. Deciding it was ok to manage, you let him hold you just as she door was thrown open. Both you and Dan Heng looked over to see a panicked Caelus.

“What happened? I heard a scream!” He said as he ran to both of you. Dan Heng didn’t let go of you but he did grip Caelus’ hand and pulled him closer to hug him as well.

Both you and Caelus made eye contact, realizing this nightmare was worse than the others. So you two sat patiently as Dan Heng got his bearings and finally calmed down. Eventually, he began to explain what happened- what horrors he witnessed. You felt your heart sink at his words- at the evident pain in his voice.

As Dan Heng explained his nightmare, he felt the emotions welling up. He tried so hard to blink the tears back, to swallow that lump in his throat, to stop that god awful shaking in his body but he failed in every avenue.

“We’re not going anywhere, Dan Heng.” Caelus assured as he sat on the other side of Dan Heng and rubbed his arm and back comfortingly. “Nothing on this world, or any others for that matter will take us away.”

“Yeah, besides. If anything were to happen- which it won’t- you’ll 100% save us like the hero you are.” You said with a smile, making the man sniffle and look at you.

“I’m no hero…” he murmured, making you shake your head quickly.

“Of course you are. You’re our hero and that’s all that matters.” You said, leaning your head onto his shoulder. Both you and Caelus squeezed in closer fueling that relief that began to settle in Dan Heng’s chest.

He closed his eyes, feeling your warmth, Caelus’ warmth. You were both alive and well and you were here. His hands squeezed both of yours so tightly, it ached. But neither of you complained. Not for one second.

“You’re safe in our arms, Dan Heng.” It was the softest whisper, but it brought a smile to Dan Heng’s lips.

#dan heng x reader #caelus x reader #hsr dan heng #hsr caelus #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #🖊─ pocky’s writings

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irisintheafterglow · 5 months

Note

hi iris i hope u have been well!!

wanted to request a little fluff/mutual pining moment between Satoru and reader who's also an instructor but they only ever get to see eachother during exchange events/higher up meetings/a mission every now and then (it's not for a lack of wanting to pursue eachother but neither of them have put in the effort bc they're both have commitment issues and deem themselves unworthy of trying) i think it would be soooo cute and i'm just dying to see Satoru and reader's students tease them about their VERY obvious chemistry... and hopefully something finally coming out of it in the end :-)

hehe thank u so much and as always you're the best!!

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this!

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: coworkers to lovers, idiots in love, reader and gojo have no idea what they're doing, swearing, mentions of drinking, fluffy fluffy fluff

note: hi anon! thank you so much for the ask, hope you like it!! i definitely got a little carried away writing it just because it's such a cute premise lol

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated !!

A piece of paper slides inconspicuously into your peripheral vision and it takes all of your willpower not to smirk. With equal nonchalance, you carefully peek under the ripped corner of the meeting agenda and can’t help smiling at the message scrawled on it.

We’re drinking after this (not optional).

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and see him leaning back in his office chair, arms crossed and looking like he’d rather be dipping his limbs in molten lava. Even with his blindfold, you can see the boredom in his expression and you bite your tongue to keep from laughing. His inability to appear professional was going to be the death of you both.

“Gojo, are you listening?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” he says with blatant dishonesty that makes you bite your bottom lip and carefully observe the dusty ceiling tiles. “I was just in…deep thought.” He tastes the last two words like philosophies to be pondered and it suddenly becomes much harder to continue to have a blank expression. Their first mistake was picking a verbal fight with him.

“Deep thought about what?” Their second mistake was letting him keep talking.

“Ah, you know, the usual things.” You can feel his attention flick to you for a moment and it gives him a wave of confidence to continue to be a little pest at a meeting neither of you wanted to be attending. It was his favorite pastime, after all, to get you to smile at his shenanigans despite the bullshit you were hearing. “The meaning of life, the wonders of love,” he begins before his volume drops so that only you could hear it, “Why this couldn’t have been a fucking email–”

“What was that?” You suppress a snort into your fist and take a sip of water, hoping the other meeting attendees couldn’t see that you were tearing up from trying not to laugh. The angry-faced higher up scowls at him, catching the biting tone but not his words. Satoru merely smiles innocently, like every utterance was of the purest and most amicable intentions.

“Nothing,” he sings and you cough into your sleeve to hide a laugh. The other higher ups with their ugly suits and balding heads look at you curiously, but all you can see is Satoru’s shit-eating grin from beside you. “I’m just worried for you, is all.” The higher-up at the front of the room scoffs, still believing the show.

“Worried? For me?”

“Mhmm,” he nods, his brows drawn in fake concern. “I just know you don’t have a lot of time left on this plane and, well, wonder why you’re choosing to spend it here,” he states with a vague gesture around the musty room. An embarrassing noise of amusement escapes from your throat and you try in vain to regain your composure, only to fall into a fit of uncontrollable coughing. Satisfied with his achievement, he abruptly stands from his chair and pulls yours away from the desk. “My work here is finished. We’re leaving.” His finger gently taps your shoulder twice and you obey, standing and heading for the door while he pushes in your chair behind you. The official at the front of the room has turned beet-red.

“The arrogance of you two–”

“We’re done here. If you say anything important, Ijichi will tell me. I doubt the possibility, though,” Satoru states with finality, opening the door for you and shooting the room of stunned officials one last smirk. Too lazy to walk through the winding halls or take the snail-paced elevator, a flick of your wrist opens a portal into an alley on the side of the building. Your colleague lets out a whistle of approval as your shoes cross from dirty carpet to asphalt, finally taking in fresh air after hours of sitting in the stale conference room. The moon shines in all of its winter glory and you shiver against the welcome chill, comforted by the chatter of the city’s nightlife. “Still up for that drink?”

“As long as you’re buying it,” you reply. “I’m gonna call the kids first and let them know I’m out.”

“Tell them I say hi,” he says without missing a beat, leaning against a nearby wall to wait for you to finish. Utahime picks up after two rings.

“Hello? Ah, you’re finally done. That’s great!” Your coworker’s voice temporarily becomes muffled while she answers questions of who she’s talking to, followed by a chorus of your name imploring you to come back. “Everyone, say hi!” Your beloved students greet you enthusiastically and you smile at their enthusiasm. “Will you be on your way soon?”

“In a little,” you say, slightly sheepish as your eyes flick over to the man behind you. “I’m gonna get a drink.”

“You’re going by yourself?”

“Not exactly,” you answer slowly and the realization hits Utahime as she breaks out into a lecture on how Satoru isn’t good enough for you. “Easy, easy. It’s just a drink, nothing else.” Your whispered attempts to placate your friend’s indignance prove futile and you settle for letting her get all of her complaints out.

“He’s a no-good playboy with a rock for a brain and a chatterbox of a mouth, you idiot,” she concludes after her lengthy rant. “I don’t want you getting hurt because he’s too scared to make any commitments.”

“I’m not making any commitments either, Utahime,” you remind her and you can imagine her rolling her eyes from the other side of the line. “It’s just a drink,” you reiterate, but you still hear her grunt of disapproval. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” she responds skeptically. “Don’t do anything dumb.”

“Love you too, Utahime,” you laugh, hanging up the phone and sticking it back in your pocket. “Alright, let’s go,” you call to Satoru, who eagerly pushes off the wall and drags you out of the alley. “We haven’t eaten, so we’re getting dinner too.”

“Whatever you want,” he grins. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t harbor some sort of romantic affections toward Satoru, but you were also resigned to the fact that you’d never act on it. He was the most powerful human being on the planet; how could you be worthy of loving such a man? Still, in times like this, where it was just the two of you walking hand-in-hand to who knows where, your mind tended to drift into thoughts of what could be if you weren’t in this line of work. It would be nice to love him, that’s all. Yeah, it’d be really nice to love him.

You couldn’t explain any of this to your students the next morning, though, when they interrogated you on who you were with the entire night. When you let his name slip, the shock in the room was palpable.

“See, I knew you guys had a thing for each other!” Miwa points her sword at you accusingly, far more fired up than you’d ever seen her before. “I thought I was the only one who noticed how he looked at you!”

“There is nothing of the sort, so I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you counter, pushing the sheathed blade to the side. Your other students fight back with full force.

“It’s so obvious that he likes you,” Mai says, like it’s an insult. “Teasing you all the time? Making excuses to crash your meetings?”

“Bringing you lunch if he’s within a fifty mile radius of our campus,” Nishimiya adds and her classmates nod in agreement. “Do you know how many times I’ve caught him trying to surprise you by air?”

“That could be just part of a working relationship,” you argue, but they’re relentless. “How would you know anything about his intentions? Maybe he’s just being nice!”

“I believe his intentions with you are, indeed, romantic,” Kamo reiterates and you groan, hiding your burning face in your hands. “I can’t say I don’t see the vision. You’re a powerful duo.”

“Your marriage would make the brass shit themselves,” Mai muses with a cynical glint in her eye. “Can you imagine having a baby that can send Hollow Purple through a portal?”

“Oh, their children would be so beautiful,” Miwa squeals and it’s like waterfalls of sweat come rushing from your forehead.

“Alright, alright. Let’s not talk about marriage or babies, please,” you cut in, quick to nip that conversation in the bud. You can’t tell if it’s the weather making your palms clammy or the unending tirade of comments about your dating life. “We can change the topic of conversation now,” you say in an attempt to get the heat off of you for a little bit. “Todo, how’s that idol you like so much doing?” It’s a good idea, initially, but the thought of you and Satoru together seemed to be brainwashed over your students.

“She’s wonderful, just as the two of you in love is a wonderful sight.” Todo can’t seem to help himself as he announces his enthusiasm for your romantic endeavors, teleporting across the room and swapping positions with his classmates from claps of pure excitement. Mechamaru provides a single thumbs-up when you look to him for support, and you pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers.

“I think it’s cute how you act like you hate him and then can’t seem to stay away during events like this. Love is so complex,” Miwa sighs, resting her chin on her hand and staring off dreamily. You scoff, hoping they can’t tell how fast your heart rate has picked up. “I wish I were in love.”

“It’s not love. If anything, it’s just admiration. Yeah, it’s just admiration,” you conclude and you’re met with skeptical stares.

“Yeah, admiration of his hot bod,” Miwa mutters and you open a portal without thinking, allowing some fat drops of rain from who knows where to fall on her head. It was a common form of discipline, summoning portals to unruly weather conditions, and your students sit up a little straighter in understanding. “Fine, okay, okay. I’m done.”

“You sure? If you’re not done, I’m gonna send you to the Amazon again.”

“Yes, fine. I’m done, I promise.”

“Done with what?” You stiffen, mentally kicking yourself for not registering his presence sooner. Had he not taken up your entire attention, you would have sent Miwa to South America for the gasp of excitement she let out when Satoru appeared. It seemed that none of you knew he was listening until he leaned against the doorframe, all six feet of height taking up the entire space. He was wearing his signature shit-eating grin that made you want to choke him with his own blindfold. “You gossiping in here?”

“Nope, just going over strategy,” you lie straight to his face and he hums, not believing you for a second. “Shouldn’t you be doing that, too? With your own students?” You stand and attempt to push him out of the room, only to find him completely immovable. His hand covers yours, lacing your fingers together in a way that makes you a little dizzy.

“All in good time,” he says carefreely, as if the action with your hands was second-nature. “For now, can I steal you away for a moment? It won’t take long.” You can practically hear the waggling eyebrows from your students and nod, unable to form a biting response because of the crashing trains of thought in your mind. His hand remains holding yours as he all but pulls you outside, finally dropping it when the excited chatter of your students has subsided. “You okay? You seem a little frazzled,” he asks once you’re far enough from any eavesdropping attempts.

“Yeah, my kids are just being a little…funny, today,” you exhale, trying to hide your unease with a nervous giggle. “You know them; they love to make up their own little stories.” He raises his eyebrows in amusement, matching your pace as you walk down a random outdoor corridor of the Tokyo campus.

“Mine have actually been doing the same thing,” he confesses after a brief moment of awkward silence. “Making speculations, drawing connections. Seems to be a good exercise in pattern-recognition.” You know he means it as a joke, but all you can think about is Miwa’s comment on admiring Satoru’s ‘hot bod.’ Had his students picked up on your behavior, too?

“What are some of these connections they’re drawing?”

“Connections about my behavior around…hmm,” his voice trails off and the corner of his mouth turns down into a frown, like he was unhappy with his students’ observations. “They’ve noticed things about the way I, well,” he stammers and for the first time, you witness Gojo Satoru get tongue-tied. “Somethings that they’ve seen and heard and–”

“Satoru.” You halt both of your strides and cross your arms defensively over your chest, slightly uncomfortable from Satoru’s inability to express himself when he would otherwise be talking your ear off. “What is this about?”

“My students know I like you,” he states bluntly and your heartbeat momentarily stops pounding in your ears. His students know that he what? “And they also theorize,” he stops to clear his throat, adjusting his collar and avoiding your eyes, “that you may reciprocate the same feelings.” Any words that you can form get caught in your throat, an odd mixture of happiness, shock, and pure dread stirring around in your brain. All you could do is blink at him, dumbly, while he shifts between the balls of his feet. “Please, say something.”

“You like me,” you repeat, tasting the words like a fancy wine you’ve never tried before breaking out into the widest smile you’ve ever felt. “Holy shit, you like me?”

“You’re smiling,” he states, still trying to process what was happening. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“Holy shit, you like me!” Your voice raises on its own and you take a step back in surprise, covering your face with your hands to try and contain your emotions. “What the fuck, Satoru?”

“Yeah, that’s,” he mumbles as he watches you celebrate, “that’s how I’m feeling too.”

“Wait, so what do we do now?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t expect to get this far,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck and combing his fingers through his hair. “I was waiting for you to slap me and tell me to go to hell.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I didn’t think you liked me back,” he sputters and the joy in both you and Satoru’s chests finally breaks loose in a fit of unending laughter. “Holy shit, I was so worried for nothing.”

“They’re gonna be so excited when we get back, they won’t be able to focus on the Exchange Event.”

“I don’t think I can focus on the Exchange Event.”

“Then we can postpone it!” You both flinch as a voice that was definitely not one of yours calls from behind a nearby wall, followed by a terrified oh, shit! as Satoru goes barreling around the corner and drags out the culprits by the collars of their shirts. Yuuji, the pink-haired student from Tokyo, and Miwa both try to explain themselves as they dangle weightlessly from Satoru’s hands. “Gojo, sir, we swear we weren’t trying to–”

“Hold on,” you pause Yuuji’s explanation, sensing some extra energy signatures that weren’t succeeding at hiding themselves. “Come out now, or I’m opening the portal to the Arctic,” you command in the open air and watch the leaves rustle as the rest of the Tokyo and Kyoto students fall from a nearby tree. “It’s rude to eavesdrop,” you chuckle as Nishimiya picks a few branches from Mai’s hair. “Go clean yourselves up and then we can begin the games.”

“You free this weekend after the games to go someplace?” Satoru whispers in your ear once all of the students are gone. “I need a break from the prying eyes of teenagers.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #ask iris!

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theladyofbloodshed · 7 days

Text

Who We Could Have Been - A Mor & Nesta friendship

A little one-shot set during the first week when Nesta is in Velaris after entering the Cauldron. It shows the Mor that I wished we saw, the care that I wished Nesta received, and a friendship that was never allowed to grow <3

It scratched at the windowsill, a never ending scrape-scrape. Nesta pulled the pillow over her head, wishing the bird would make the dive from its nest and splatter below rather than having to endure another moment of it thrashing and cheeping from the nest. Even the feathers in the pillow were too loud to her ears, the scrunch of the sheets too much. She took a respite in the bathroom, glad for the cool water that she splashed on her face and neck.

Velaris was a hell. Being fae was a nightmare. Her body was alien to her, the movements foreign and lumbering like a newborn lamb. Nesta moved quicker now as evidenced by the number of times she’d overbalanced with her steps. It was not only speed. Her body was stronger. The soaked nightgown that she’d been brought here in had ripped in two when she tried to pull it off her body, so she’d been left naked and crying in the bedroom whilst searching for the promised robes that were within.

Maybe another might be glad for the speed and strength, but Nesta hated it. Her senses were amplified; the colours brighter, her hearing tuning in to every slight sound, she could smell when one of them was cooking at the other end of the house – and that always had a far richer taste than she was used to. For the first couple of days, all Nesta could stomach was dry toast. It was all too rich, too heavy for her new-found palette.

A soft knock at the door came as it did every morning around this time. The others left them alone, which Nesta was glad for. Hopefully, the blonde one would get the hint soon enough.

Morrigan never did.

The key in the door was useless because she used her magic to turn it back around, so Nesta had to wonder why they even bothered with locks in Prythian if people came and went as they pleased.

‘Good morning. How do you feel today?’

Nesta pressed her hands to her temples, the noise shooting through her.

‘Do you have a headache again?’ Mor took a step forwards. She tilted her head so blonde hair cascaded across her face. ‘Shall I send for Madja?’

‘I do not want that woman anywhere near me,’ declared Nesta.

That rotten healer had smiled at her and said everything was perfect. It was not perfect. It was far from perfect. It was long limbs and pointed ears and everything too damn loud.

She clutched her head, voice rising, ‘Will that bird leap to its death or leave me the hell alone?’

Morrigan’s eyes widened then she held up a finger. ‘One moment.’

While she departed, Nesta perched on a sliver of the mattress. Buried beneath layers of blankets, despite the warm spring morning, Elain slept soundly. She reminded Nesta of a girl from a story who pricked her finger and slept for a thousand years. To the fae, that was probably nothing. A blink of an eye and they welcomed a new millennium. She ran a hand against Elain’s face then shivered at the sound of her hair sliding over itself.

‘Ta-da!’

Mor held out a mass of fluffy, white fur.

‘What am I meant to do with that?’

The woman had no bearings on propriety. She crowded Nesta’s space as she placed the two balls of fur against her ears. Her fingers were warm on the points of Nesta’s ears, but she still felt revulsed by somebody touching them. They were a reminder of what she was.

When Morrigan stepped away, it was… better. The sound was muffled. Less intense.

‘Ear muffs! I forgot to give them back to Viviane last time I visited her, but if they work then they work.’

Nesta could finally breathe. The brightness and taste, she could manage. The bombardment of sound had been a constant battle that had been wearing her down.

‘Does that feel better, Nesta?’

She didn’t know why but she felt heat building in her face as tears prickled her eyes. ‘Yes.’

Mor touched her hand. ‘This is new ground for us too. We don’t know the ways in which you’re struggling so I’ll need you to be vocal.’ Her fingers slipped into Nesta’s. ‘You're not a burden for telling us what you need. I know it’s scary. I can’t imagine how you feel. But I’m here. We are all here for you – and Elain – for as long as it takes.’

The final portion of the dam collapsed and a flood of tears broke through. She was not one for weeping or embraces. Tears were to be briefly shed alone then forgotten about. Servants were forbidden from coddling them – and her mother was not the sort to do it either. Yet, when Mor instinctively moved forwards and wrapped her arms around Nesta, she was so grateful for that touch. To not be the one having to hold it all together. To have a moment where she didn’t need to worry about Elain.

‘Let’s go for a chat,’ the woman said against her cheek.

‘Elain,’ began Nesta.

‘Elain is asleep. We won’t be far.’

It was against her better judgement, but Nesta followed. In the week since they had been taken from their beds, Nesta had barely seen beyond the four walls of the bedroom. She’d cloistered herself in there, unable to take any more change. It was a prison. A prison to fester.

‘We’re quite high up in the house, so we won’t winnow yet if the noise is too much. Velaris can be… loud,’ she said, smiling brightly. ‘Do you paint like Feyre?’

‘No.’

‘A shame,’ said Mor as they walked through a red-walled corridor with brightly coloured rugs strewn about haphazardly as if they had too many that they didn’t know what to do with them. ‘Velaris is known for its artists’ quarter. We’ve got lots of markets too if you’re a food lover.’

Disappointment grew in her. ‘Not particularly.’

‘No matter. What do you like to do, Nesta?’

Upset my sisters. Ruin my future.

‘Read.’

Could nothing dim Morrigan’s cheery disposition? Her eyes had blown wide with delight. ‘Oh, do I have the perfect place. Wait. Maybe not today,’ she pondered aloud. ‘Lots of priestesses. Lots of noise. But,’ Mor took her by the hand like she was a child’s plaything. ‘Yes! Let’s go.’

Nesta tried not to frown as she was tugged along the corridor then down a set of steps. Something sweet was baking in the oven, the smell wafting towards them. But it was not the kitchen that Mor towed her towards. They reached a set of double doors where Mor gave her a knowing look.

‘Behold,’ she whispered, pushing open a door.

Rows and rows of books filled her vision. It was a library. A personal library stacked with shelves, each one begging Nesta to run her eyes along it and choose a title.

She moved to take a step then held herself back.

‘It’s okay,’ Mor reassured her, touching her arm. ‘Go in. Have a look. Take as much time as you need. I need to get something – unless you want me to stay?’

‘I can be alone,’ Nesta replied.

The library was warm with wedges of sunlight pouring in through the tall windows. The books in its path had spines damaged by sunlight so the leather was fading. Nesta stood in the light, letting it soak into her bones. Her finger trailed along one shelf, tracking each book and wondering which to read. There were sections on the arts, history, geography, poetry, foreign books – and even a whole section dedicated to fiction. Father always said it was a waste of time. Nothing could be learnt from a story. Mother despised reading entirely.

Why must your head be filled with words? A husband will not take to being outwitted by his wife.

Their scoldings could never staunch her desire. Nesta had read in secret, had stolen books from father’s collection at night and returned them in the morning. She’d begged the housekeeper to buy her them and she’d find the money from somewhere.

When Nesta was already a chapter deep into a heavy, ancient book about the history of the Night Court, Morrigan returned.

‘I bring snacks,’ she announced.

A handful of cakes had been artfully arranged on a plate, their icing colourful and appetising.

Mor caught her gazing at them. ‘Take one. I brought them for you.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Yes, you can.’

Why did it feel like a weakness to admit the ways in which she was struggling? It wasn’t Nesta’s fault that she was in this life. Not her fault that it was new and scary.

‘Everything tastes so strong.’

Morrigan gave a murmur of understanding. ‘Feyre suffered with that. She just had to push through and get used to it, I think. I wish she was here. She’d be a better help.’ Mor just shrugged, letting the words roll away. ‘What about tea? Can you manage that?’

One of the strange women appeared from the shadows, as if she had always been there. Nesta was sure that sometimes she blurred at the edges as though not quite real.

‘Is that alright, Cerridwen?’

The woman nodded then vanished again.

Mor leaned forwards and rested her chin on a closed fist. ‘What are you reading?’

‘A history of this court.’ Nesta swallowed. This woman was trying to make conversation, trying to help. Being prickly would only push away the help. ‘All I’ve ever been told is that faeries cannot lie and they will enjoy hurting us. I don’t know anything. I don’t know how long you live, who are your enemies – if you can lie.’

‘We can lie. We can touch iron. We can step across a circle.’

‘What a list of talents you have,’ came a drawling man’s voice.

Oh. It was him.

As Cassian approached, carrying a tray of tea, Nesta’s body coiled tight like a snake ready to strike if he came too close.

Mor gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘I’m helping Nesta to understand how fantastic we are.’

‘Oh, you’re a historian? When did I miss that?’ Cassian came around the back of Nesta’s chair, taking a deliberately longer route to get to the space on the table, before putting down the tray.

‘And you’re a waiter now?’

Cassian threw Mor a wink as he poured the tea for the two of them. ‘A male of many talents.’

His eyes slid to Nesta, cataloguing all of the changes in her. She’d not seen him since he was bleeding out on the floor in Hybern’s castle. She remembered the twitch of his fingers, the jerk of his bloody wings.

‘Your wings have healed,’ she stated.

Cassian slowly – ever so slowly – dipped his chin like he was in disbelief that she’d noticed they were not ruined ribbons hanging behind him. ‘They’re not as they were. I need to practise flying. I’ll, uh, be flying here often to strengthen them.’

His eyes dipped to her lips as she brought the scalding cup to her lips only to have something to do with her hands.

Those words hung there. An offer if she wanted to take it. He’d come here again if she wanted to see him?

‘Shoo,’ said Mor. ‘I have an in-depth history of the Hewn City to tell Nesta and I won't have you spoiling it with stories of how amazing you are.’

Cassian held up his hands. ‘Nes, if you want to know about brave warriors, I’m waiting.’

Long after Cassian departed, Nesta was still on a cloud somewhere. Mor’s words hardly registered although at any other time, Nesta would have been riveted with the history of Morrigan’s family. Her mind was caught on a pair of hazel eyes and a teasing grin. Cassian hadn’t commented on the ear muffs she wore or that she was even out of the bedroom.

For hours they talked, conversation swirling from serious discussions about the political alignment of the Night Court to the best boutiques for clothing and embarrassing stories about Cassian – of which Morrigan had plenty. When Nesta finally gave in to the squirming guilt that encouraged her to check in on Elain and be with her, Mor insisted she take a few library books with her and also insisted that Nuala and Cerridwen would be happy to make her whatever food she wanted as long as she asked them.

‘I’m really glad you came out of the room,’ said Mor, linking her arm with Nesta’s on the walk back. ‘Same again tomorrow?’

Tomorrow. Tomorrow meant a future. It meant no longer hiding. It meant accepting that this was her life.

Nesta offered a short smile. ‘I can do tomorrow.’

#nesta archeron #morrigan #cassian

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jaebeomsbitch · 1 year

Text

All I Want Is You (R.R.)

Summary: Roman learning to heal through the pain and eventually realizing he’s capable of so much more than just being a Roy. He learns to love and laugh and eventually gets married!

Warning: Mentions of Logan's death, Roman's insecurity, and one mentions of his eating disorder. GN! Reader except literally one line just hinting.

A/N: I had this idea of calling Roman "Roro" and it turned into this. I just love him so much, he deserves the world.

Nicknames had been spilling from your mouth all day, you loved to annoy Roman. Calling him any and everything, “Pookie, honey, Romey bear,” especially in front of board members. You loved to rile him up, he’d sometimes lash out but for the most part he’d play it up. Following you around calling you equally embarrassing nicknames, it had become a game of sorts. Trying to see who could embarrass the other worse.

You’d have a sickening display of affection as you feed him an hors d’oeuvre at some company party. Whispering how “sweet your love bug was for you,” Gerri would clear her throat asking to pull Roman aside. They’d talk in hushed tones as he sighs and comes back to you. Muttering a half-assed apology but he has something urgent to take care of. You usher him away, knowing he’s here on business and not to entertain you even though he promised you’d have his undivided attention.

You muck around taking a champagne glass joining Willa and Connor in a conversation about cryogenics. You pretend you’re interested, nodding your head as you tip your head back gulping the alcohol. It was going to be a long night.

You drink a couple more glasses before leaving them, walking toward a window to watch the view. You couldn’t even remember where you were. Roman had told you to pack a bag and an hour later you were shoved into a private plane. He was too busy talking logistics to inform you of where you were going or what you were doing.

Cousin Greg tries to make conversation, asking some absurd question you’d probably see in a “how to make friends” blog. You relent because watching Greg squirm is entertaining. You answer asking him an equally absurd question, watching as he juggles the question in his head as he stumbles over his words. Your gaze unlike most people doesn’t move from his face, you like the way it makes people nervous. He gives you a non-answer mostly just stuttering noises as his eyes dart around the room for an escape. His eyes landed on Tom before excusing himself.

You can’t help but chuckle, Roman walks up to you. What the fuck was that all about? Was Greg trying to put the moves on you? He laughs but a piece of himself feels uneasy. He never likes the feeling of falling which is why he never allows himself to feel it. He’s always surrounded himself with faux relationships, ones he could pull around the room as arm candy to appease his father. Not that he was ever happy with Roman’s endeavors or conquests.

But you were different. You had this ability to pull him apart like a lobster at dinner. You broke him limb from limb, throwing the pieces of shell in the garbage as you exposed the soft tender meat of his heart. He’s panicked, panicked that you can be ripped away from his hands like his favorite toy. Panicked that he’ll have to watch his dad stomp on the piece of plastic destroying you into a million little pieces. He doesn’t think he’d recover if you left so he stays cowering in the back of his cage.

Slowly you unravel Roman, even when he asks stupid questions. You let him win on most occasions, you want seafood for dinner but he wants steak? Steak it is. Something about being with you is everything he’s ever wanted and not just because you let him win. You made him feel something he’d never was allowed to.

His father never had high hopes for Roman’s partner. However he didn’t feel any particular way about you. Didn’t say some mean comment, didn’t embarrass you in private, he watches you with a scrutinizing gaze but you don’t buckle. You had nothing to hide because to the Roys you were just another fling.

To Roman however you were everything. You were the reason he wanted to wake up in the morning, you were the reason he stopped counting calories as he joined you in a midnight ice cream snack. Laughing as he smears ice cream across your face because you called him your “precious little prince.” He tells you to fuck off, rolling his eyes as his ears turn red. Blood rushing up his face at all your praises. He was so unused to it, unused to the feeling of someone being proud of him.

You were never shy with Roman, always showing him off. Calling him your trophy husband as you twirl him around. Slapping his ass on the airplane, joking that his was better than yours.You show him off with pride to your parents, after you’d mentioned they were at the same restaurant as you were. He noticed their judging gazes, recognizing his face from the newspaper but you beamed. Holding his hand tight, teeth on full display as you press yourself into him, cheek resting on his shoulder as your parents say something you’re not paying attention to.

Roman doesn’t know how to act, he’d never made it to this stage. Most people weren’t willing to accept someone with sexual trauma, always leaving him because he was too emotionally scarred. They’d always give him the line that they weren’t fulfilled but you were always willing to wait. So he nods, cracking an occasional joke until you’re waving goodbye on the sidewalk and you follow him into the Escalade.

You help him through the after effects of a panic attack. He’d never done that, never really cared what people thought of him unless he could benefit in some way. So teary eyes, that he tries to pretend is caused by the window cracked open, he asks how that was. He looks away afraid of what you might say, afraid that you might end it right there because your parents hate him.

“Roro, I could give a flying fuck what they think. All I want is you, okay?” You try to reassure, reaching for his hand. He blinks away the tears, silently nodding. Someone wanted him? Even when he’s wholly broken, even when he can’t fulfill every boyfriend duty, even when he has to abandon you at boring parties? He’s afraid of the feeling in his chest, it feels like he just jumped off the balcony of his penthouse, free falling, waiting to hit the ground. He shoves away the feeling of doubt and plays those words over and over again in his head, a small smile forming as he stares at the city passing by.

He lets himself grow attached to the silly nicknames, attached to the feel of your skin under his hand, the feeling of his fingers running through your hair, the way you massage his scalp, the way you hold him in bed. Your sleepy eyes blinking at him as you whisper a new nickname before cuddling into his chest.

He liked the domesticity of you in his apartment, he’d usually feel disgusted only ever liking the feeling of being alone. But somewhere he grows accustomed to the way you leave your shoes at the entrance, seeing your toothbrush next to his, and even though he complains, the way you take half of his closet. He liked seeing your clothes together, promising he’d either upgrade the closet to fit both your needs fully or buy a new penthouse. He wanted you to have a say in the building, he was ready to let go of his “bachelor” pad, wanting you in every trace of the new home. Wanting you to be in the fiber of the new apartment so even if you left he could never forget what you shared.

Soon enough the Roys lump you in with Roman like you’d always belonged. You were practically married without the certificate, Logan would give Roman shit about it. Telling him you were a fine piece of ass and that he should lock you down before you realized the mistake you made.

In all of Roman’s sureness the doubt creeps in but you’re there through his fathers death. You’re there to console him and let him cry. You let him be vulnerable in a way he was never allowed, never judging, just reassuring. You’re there when Gojo buys Waystar. You’re there to enjoy him even when he’s lost. When he realizes that all his sacrifices were for nothing and that his entire being was bullshit.

“But you’re not bullshit to me,” you whisper. Forehead leaning on his back as you hug his abdomen. He lets himself be held, no quip on his lips as he leans into your hold.

“Roman… it’s just you and me forever and always,” you finalize. You knew in your heart it was always Roman. You were two broken puzzle pieces that somehow fit together and in your brokenness you made each other better. In your time together he transformed into the phoenix you knew he was. He opened his eyes to the abuse he endured and refused to continue the cycle.

You spent almost a year on a self healing journey, traveling the world together now that he had stopped nipping at your hand. He let you pull him out of the cage and he was free, completely free. He was fearless to love, you both relished in your time together even though his smart mouth got ahead of him sometimes. You find ways to be intimate figuring each other out. You live in the ups and downs of the relationship. Realizing that he never needed to be in a loveless marriage like his parents.

He proposes unsurprisingly to everyone. The Roys finally have something to look forward to in the life of mundane nothingness. They Pat him on the back for ‘finally not being an idiot and making the right decision.’ He surprisingly offers to take your name, says he’s ready to shed the Roy name and try out a new skin. Kendall calls him a cuck for even suggesting it, that was his legacy after all. They might not have the company but they’d always have the name and blood. You knew Roman wasn’t serious, knew that calling you a Roy would elate his little heart so you deny him.

The word fiancé is always at the tip of his tongue, he loves the word. Loves that he’s finally able to say it. When you become his wife he becomes unbearable but you’re the same. Going to restaurants and talking about the “ole ball and chain” making him late when in fact, it was him fixing his hair that made you late. Nonetheless you whip your hand around showing off your wedding ring set at everyone that glances at you, holding your head high as you walk with him. Roman was yours and you were his and somewhere you forgot where he ends and you begin.

—side story—

You notice the way his eyes light up when you call him ‘Roro’ because no one has ever called him that, so it was special to you. Also because he remembers the day in the Escalade when you didn’t outright but basically admitted your love for him. His siblings take to jokingly calling you Scooby Doo because he was

“Roro Roy” to you. It starts after you ask him to pass the salt, “Roro, pass me that please.” The Roy siblings turn to look at you and Roman. They were used to your nickname antics, sometimes jumping in with their nasty names but this was new. Seeing Roman beat red as you kiss his temple, unaware of Shiv and Kendall’s knowing smiles. Connor looking at Roman with a small smile before turning back to Willa.

“Roro raggy, Roro shit the bed” Kendall would joke in a fake accent, that just sounds horrible. The table laughs, including you.

Roman quips back something stupid but you were happy. Happy that you had a nickname and that you were a part of their lives. That Roman gets to be an uncle to Shiv’s little boy.

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pellucid-constellations · 7 months

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angstober (7)

Prompt: "Weakness"

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/n: This is a heavy one. Anywaysss love you <3

angstober masterlist here ♡

~~~

A door hinge creaked somewhere far off.

Bucky waited. He’d been waiting for hours now, hands tied behind his back, chains digging into the skin of his right wrist. He’d tried ripping them away to no avail.

Whoever had taken him had been prepared. Had known him and his weaknesses.

But it didn't matter; the second he got free, their knowledge would mean nothing. Pure fury was fueling his stay, and pure power would fuel his fight to freedom. His fight back home.

A door creaked open, dim light dusting the grime on the solid floors. Footsteps, each carefully measured, echoed as they made their way toward Bucky. It wasn’t until the shine of leather came into his view that Bucky looked up—that he gave his captor the privilege of the rage burned into his expression.

“You want something from me?” he gritted out, narrowing his eyes at the older man above him.

The man only shot up a brow. “There are several things I want from you, Sergeant Barnes.” A thick accent held his words together. “But none of which I am sure you will give lightly.”

Bucky let out a humorless chuckle. “How would you know? Haven’t even tried yet. Just left me sitting here. That your tactic? Isolation? Because I can tell you right now, I’ve waited a lot longer for a lot less.”

In hindsight, goading the man who held his mercy in his hands wasn’t the most clever move. But Bucky got mouthy when he was angry, even more so when he was sure Hydra had a hand in whatever bullshit he was currently caught up in.

Looking back, Bucky would take back his words, even if it wouldn’t have helped.

He knew they wouldn’t have helped.

The man grabbed Bucky’s chin and craned his neck harshly, putting him inches away from his face. “You will wish it was isolation. I simply needed time to procure what I needed to make you speak.”

“What do you want to know?” Bucky seethed, roughly turning his face away. He spoke his next words to the floor. “Typically you ask nicely first. Haven’t even tried that.”

“I do not have time for those theatrics.”

With a snap of his fingers, the door opened wider. Bucky heard a struggle in the hall—scuffling feet and grunts and muffled words. The man before him rolled his eyes, hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch the door.

“What, some kind of animal?” Bucky scoffed. “You’ll have to try—”

Blood ran cold. At that moment, Bucky couldn’t tell whose blood it was. Because his blood, the very same that pumped beneath his skin and warmed him, didn’t feel like his own. His body felt foreign, each limb tightening and then cramping to the point of pain.

This wasn’t his body.

He wasn’t here.

You weren’t here. You couldn’t be.

“No.” His whisper was only a breath. He hadn’t meant to speak.

Bucky flinched as a cloud clap resonated in the space, followed by a mocking laugh. “Finally something to stop your ridiculous taunts,” the man rejoiced, leaning over to hold his thighs, coming nose-to-nose with Bucky. “I would have brought her in from the start, had I known.”

Your gaze met his, and Bucky lost it—in his mind, body, being, he came undone. He pulled against the chains harder than before, letting out curse after curse at the man in front of him. He threatened death, torture, and far worse that he wouldn’t be able to follow through on.

But he would find a way.

Because your face was already bruised. Your hands were tied together at your hips and he could see the way the rope chafed at your skin. The same skin he had kissed countless times before. It was marred now, and you were in pain. He could hear your muffled sobs beneath the cloth shoved into your mouth, and Bucky promised far worse things than death.

You weren’t meant for this—to ever feel this way.

“What the fuck do you want!?” he snarled, his eyes leaving you for a singular moment to direct his rage towards the man. He found you again a second later, not wanting to leave you unguarded.

It was silly to think his eyes had any power now.

“Attitudes change so fast in the name of love, do they not?” the man posed, coming around to linger at your side.

Bucky’s chest rumbled in warning... in anger and frustration and desperation. “Tell me. I’ll give you anything you want. Let her go.”

The man seemed uninterested in his request, letting a finger track the shape of your cheek. You flinched back, running into the woman that had dragged you in.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Bucky barked out, words punctuated by chains slamming to the floor.

The hand left your face, only to move to your hair. You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut with the heavy intake of your breath. Bucky mourned the loss. Mourned any time before this—before he was the reason you had been hurt.

There was no going back from this. This was his fault. You were here because of him.

Unimaginable sorrow fought for dominance in his chest, but he kept the anger burning. It was the only way he’d be able to save you.

“I find—anecdotally—that there is much less resistance in my…clients when there is a contract up front,” the man hummed. He grabbed the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin. You let out a whimper, and Bucky let out a threat coated in a surging panic. “Shall I spell it out for you, then, Sergeant Barnes?”

You were thrown to the floor, knees crashing against concrete. You cried harder and Bucky felt all the wrath he’d been kindling die out. Fear replaced it. Unbridled fear. He couldn’t get out of these chains. He pulled and tugged until he was sure the vibranium bent and his skin broke, but nothing budged.

He couldn’t save you.

“I will tell you anything you want to know,” Bucky pleaded, tone dangerously low, breath coming out in heavy pants. His eyes were glued to the way your chest heaved. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her. You know that. That’s why you went after her, isn’t it?”

The man laughed again, this time a deep, soft disruption in the otherwise stagnant room. “You always were smart for a mindless drone.”

Hydra.

The label was meaningless. Everything in Bucky’s world had shifted the moment you were shoved through the door.

There was nothing left of him as you braced your bleeding hands on the same floor he sat.

When you locked gazes with him—for the last time, Bucky would later remember—it was with finality. Your eyes told him you forgave him. You shook your head like you knew some secret he wasn’t privy to, and he tracked the movement with so much fear lodged in his chest—piercing at his ribs—that it hurt to breathe.

What had you known?

What had you heard?

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

“Let her go. I’m—” Words meant nothing to this man. Bucky brought his face up to him, his broken, pleading face as he trembled beneath his next word. “Please.”

“I do love to hear you beg. But this is for me, as well, Soldat. Who doesn’t love a little torture?”

Bucky wouldn’t remember the wicked smile the man sent him after his damning words. He would only remember your scream. The panic that ruined him.

I love you, hold on. Please, hold on.

I’m so sorry, please.

Stop! Stop hurting her! I can’t—she can’t—

All spoken to unhearing ears.

His weakness had never been a physical constraint, but from then on, Bucky did not feel strong.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #angstober 2023 #day 17 #is this whump #sorta

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xmorguekittyx · 7 months

Text

Ever Locked

Part 1: New Beginnings?

pairing: Older!Leon x Ex!Coroner’s Assistant Reader

warnings: nsfw, light smut

extra: this story takes place 7 years later, Leon being taken into the government is still a cannon event, same with RE2 being a cannon event. i hope you guys like this! POV has changed, chapters will flip flop from your pov to Leon’s chapter by chapter and these parts will be longer. Next chapter will be Leon’s pov.

Soft wind blew against the cracked window, locked in place with a bolt. Rain pelted the chipped glass, sliding down to draw clear designs as the morning sun started to peek out from behind the grey clouds. Birds singing happily about the new day, the limitless opportunities that the day could bring. Shadows of the birds reflecting over the glass pane, the shadow an unfamiliar view. My eyes aren't use to seeing the sun, not since settling in Seattle, Washington.

Finally, I decided to move my limbs, the numbness taking over as the muscles ached and stretched. Purple sheets wrapped around my ankles, keeping me from getting up as quickly as I wanted to. Those damned dreams, I couldn't get away from him even in my slumber. His face marred into the back of my eyelids, he haunted my every waking and sleeping moment. The bolt that was beat into the window sill, causing the window to never be open, it was because of him. The fear he would slip in, much like he had done all those years ago. The three locks on the front door another reminder that, even if he was, god knows where, I was unsafe.

A reflection that didn't register in my mind, who was this? Me? Surely not, my eyes didn't have that dark of circles under them... did they? The figure in the mirror moving close as I feel the counter press into my thighs. "Fuck.", I didn't even recognize the person i became once the police men took me from Leon's home. They were shouting something about... a disease, something wrong with people in the city. Their hands gripping at my arms as they pulled me from the shit hole. People, their eyes yellow and skin, a sickly white. My stomach rolled, a groan of nausea coming from my lips. Those people, I watched as they bit into the man behind me, his skin held by tendons and muscle, before that too was ripped away from him.

A cough of acid, the burning of my throat brought me back to that damned look. It's eyes squinting, searching for some recognition in the mirror. "Fuck off.", a scoff fell from my lips, turning from the eyes that mimicked mine. The knob turned on the sink, water dripping adding to the sounds around, thunder rumbling over the apartment. "You talking to yourself?", a smug voice called, my fingers too busy rubbing the freezing water over the dark circles under my eyes, praying that the water would wash away some of the unfamiliarity. "Shut up, Ryan.", I was not in the mood to deal with the man, his pout the first thing my eyes picked up on as I looked back in the mirror. "You dreamt of him again, didn't you?", he asked, his voice was so concerned, it made me feel worse. "Yeah...", a bitter laugh left my lips, the real monster in my story was him.

I felt his fingers trace over the scar on my temple, the one, he, had left behind. "You know you're safe now... right? I won't let anything happen to you.", as much as i wanted to believe his words, to trust my boyfriend of 3 years... something in my chest warned me of a possibility. He was a government agent, at least that was the last i heard of Leon S. Kennedy; he'd saved some girl from RPD that night. He was deemed a hero, despite the sins that he had committed, a justice for a death never gained. No body, no crime... that's what the government worker had told her. I'd tried to tell them everything, that I was kidnapped, that Leon had killed Mrs. Jones. They didn't care, there was no proof as by the time I had gotten the chance to speak to anyone, Raccoon City was already bombed to hell and back.

"I know.", the truth was that I wasn't safe, I never was going to be unless I was nailed in that coffin, the only place he couldn't find me. Then again, I figured even if I had died that day, that Leon would somehow find my corpse just to add insult to injury. The stupid rookie- I wished I'd never laid eyes on those blue orbs, that the summer blue skies didn't remind me of him, that I didn't fear being home alone... that I didn't think every blonde in a police uniform was him, that I didn't see him in people, I passed on the street. "I know.", my hand came up to hold onto his, my fingers around his wrist. "You'll protect me...", my tone was no more than a whisper, eyes closing, melting into the back of his fingers. As soon as my eyes closed, that face popped back up, the look he gave me as i felt my vision blacken. It's been 7 years, it's time to move on. Ryan deserved a girlfriend who didn't jump in fear every five seconds, or call him crying when she saw a blonde officer.

"I love you, stop thinking about it. You're making it worse on yourself.", he cupped his hand around my cheek, finger-pads rough from his job as a crime scene investigator. "You're safe with me, he's still with the government agency and you're here... in your apartment with your loving boyfriend.", a deep chuckle left his lips. "A loving boyfriend who wants nothing more than to make his girlfriend relax.", his fingers toyed with my pajama pants string, twisting it between his fingers. "Will you let me do that, pretty girl?", his lips pressed into the crook of my neck. My nails dig slightly into his biceps, holding onto him as his tongue traced little designs into the skin. "Uh-huh.", i couldn't think of anything, i wanted to be distracted, to be lulled away from reality at the tips of his fingers. "Please-", my desperation was rewarded as I felt his fingers dig underneath my thighs, lifting me into his strong, steady arms. "Shhh...", his whisper was so calming, "turn that pretty head off, i can think for you.", he hummed, his lips next to my ear as he kissed the hook of it. His lips were so soft, always slick with chapstick, usually mine.

The thick head of his cock, buried, snug into me. His pants from above as his leg lifted, caging mine to the bed. A whimper, back arching off the bed as his tip prodded at the beginning of my cervix, his love was soft and kind. His lips sparing words of comfort and care as he bullied into me. His chest was slick with sweat, the cold air now stuffy from the breath shared between us. "You're mine... protect what's mine, sweet girl.", he grunted, his eyes closed tightly, black hair falling over his forehead, stuck to the pale skin with his sweat. "Won't let anyone hurt you-", the promise laced in swears, in moans of pleasure and solemn love. Tears probed the back of my eyes, stinging as the salty tears ran down my temples, gliding across the ragged skin of my scar. It wasn't obvious, my hair covered it most of the time, but to me... it was a permanent reminder of how stupid I use to be. I hope, somewhere along the way, I've changed.

"Stop thinking.", my thoughts are replaced by Ryan's words as i felt the band in my belly tighten, the rocking of his hips, his pubic bone grinding my clit perfectly. "Not- thinking-", my words were strained from my lips, teeth biting into the plump flesh, head back and toes curling as his cock hit the spongey, nerve filled spot that pushed me over the edge, more tears sliding across my heated skin. "There you go-", he moaned, his cock twitching, the fluttering of my walls pushing his climax to the tip, releasing his cum into me, the warmth filling up the thin area between us. Weak moms left his lips, his breath mingling with my pants as he pressed his forehead to mine."Good girl.", his hand brushed back my hair, my eyes catching his green ones. "fuck-!", he whined, sliding his softening cock from my folds, hissing at the sensitivity of his body.

"I have to get ready for work and so do you, my pretty.", his lips press a kiss into my collar, his nose bumping my shoulder as he presses his warm lips to the flesh. "Don't remind me~", my tone whiny, yet playful as he laughs, his clear voice. His body like a fresh winters day. He was the opposite of the warm boy I once thought I loved... my love falling from boiling water to a crisp ice bath, shocking me. "You gotta-", he reached down to swipe his pants up. "How else are those drunks gonna get their fill of cheap booze?", a grumble left my lips, rolling my eyes at the thigh of a few angry drunks muttering about their drinks taking a little longer to pour than usual. "I think they'd survive.", a mutter from my lips, eyes catching his as he laughed, knowing my annoyed look was one that would soon fall into a plead for him to say. "Look, i'll take you out, some place nice and expensive. How about Bella's?", my interest was peaked, "As long as we get that-", "Red wine, you love so much?", he pointed his fingers in a finger gun motion at me, his nerdy personality something I didn't know I needed. "You got yourself a deal.", my eyes watch as he tucks in his button up, his eyes searching for his glasses as he slides them across the bride of his nose. "I'll be back at 5, okay?", his uniform make him look like some... TV show character. Like he was from my favorite crime show, my smile fell... I hadn't watched it since that night with Leon.

"Quit thinking about it. Fancy dinner and drunks are all you should be thinking about.", his lips pressed to my cheek, brightening my expression with a simple gesture. "Be careful driving to work, the roads are slick.", I called out, watching him walk through the bedroom door. "Always am, you better be careful too. That damn Maxima is nearly on its last legs.", my lips parted in a drop, "Don't talk bad about my car!", his laughter was all i heard before the front door shut, leaving me to my thoughts once more. That's all I had left from Raccoon City, the government agent sent me off $500 and my car, telling me to start over somewhere new, that Leon had agreed to work with them and that I'd be on my own. That's what lead me here... to the rainy city. It was similar to Raccoon City, maybe I craved that familiarity.

Then again this was suppose to be a new start, which is why I'd gave up the coroner's assistant job, instead becoming a bartender at a local bar called White Wolf Lodge, it was a hotel and bar. Somewhere for truck drivers to relax their few off days, getting to stretch their legs and have a bed for the night, some to lace to rest their beer bellies. I wanted to go back to the assistant job eventually, but it's like I'd seen enough death for my life time.

My uniform shirt was tight, my tits nearly falling over the front of it, my push up bra doing what it was mad to. Keeping those babies up and perky. The black shirt supported a white wolf howling on the back and a 'White Wolf Lodge' embroidered patch on the front. My jeans were simple, bedazzled and hip hugging, showing off for tips wasn't my favorite thing to do but money was tight in one of the most expensive cities in the US. I needed all the tips i could get. My arms covered my hair as I ran out to the white Maxima, nearly slipping on the pavement. "Come on, Come on...", the buttons on the fob has started to give out, the car was nearly on its last leg but that didn't mean that i was going to let it go any time soon. Rain pelted down, lightening causing me to jump as the door finally unlocked. "Shit!", my fingers fumbled the door handle as i jumped in.

My head hit the head rest, eyes rolling as the thunder shook through vehicle. Let's just get through today. Just make sure the customers are happy and the bar stays clean. My fingers slip past the seat belt, hearing the click as it safely secures. My fingers curl over the steering wheel that now bore some rips in it. Eyes catch the rear view mirror, always expecting to see a green jeep parked behind me. A silent wave of relief follows after realizing that indeed there is no jeep, no looming threat.

———

"Hey! I thought you were off today?", Marina spoke up, her green eyes bright as she leans over the bar counter. "Sadly, not.", my lips curl into a slight smile. Of everyone I've met since moving here, Marina was the one that i got to call my best friend. Her black hair resting under her shoulders and her sparking green eyes always a sight for sore eyes. "Well, at least we're working together tonight, you could've gotten stuck with T.", she raised her brow, a smirk on her lips as he propped up with her elbows. At the mention of T, my mood sours, my brows dropping as I deadpan at her. "Yeah. Fair enough.", my bag is plopped down under the bar, my body resting against the bar with her, elbows bumping as I lay my head on her shoulder.

"I'm glad, i'm here with you.", I sighed, her shoulder tensed. "You've got that tone, you're thinking about that guy again, aren't you?", her tone was accusatory, but concerned. I had told her about Leon before, that he was a psycho sweet heart in a drunk hangout at her place. "Yeah, it's like he's a damn ghost.", I scoffed, my legs bending to crouch under the bar. "Not like i want to dream about the day i got my head split open.", my finger toyed the scar on my temple. "Plus, i just think it's because it's closing in on the day i got moved-", I hadn't told anyone about the dead eating the living, about the monsters that prowled the streets. It was too much for my brain to handle, i wouldn't scar anyone else with the thoughts and images.

"Maybe so... what's it called?", she kept staring at the patrons, waiting for someone to need another refill or some god awful bar snacks. "Anniversary Reactions, i think is what my therapist told me.", her body quickly turned towards mine, her eyes settled on the tip of my head, i could hear the cogs in her brain turning as she stood in silence. "Go ahead.", I knew where this was going. Why don't you, "see a therapist?", her voice cut in. "Because i'm fine, he's far away doing god knows what and i'm working at this shit hole with you.", a dopey smile crossing my lips, eyes fluttering up to hers. "I think you'd benefit from it.", her tone was serious and i knew she meant it. She'd hounded me for months after i confessed my past to her. "Please, just try it once if you hate it, you don't have to go back.", she used that same line to try and convince me.

"Moonpie-", the nickname that i made for the bubbly girl, "I'll be okay. I'm doing better, like you said... anniversary reactions.", I was tired of reliving the day nearly daily, my fingers wrapping around a rag as i grabbed a bottle of cleaner, spraying down the empty end of the bar. "I just worry about you. You look like you haven't slept in weeks.", her voice was so small, I nearly felt bad for lying. "I've been sleeping, I've been feeling better than I have in a long time... let me have this.", my eyes meeting hers, whispering the words to her, head over my shoulder to gaze at her as I lean on the counter, wiping the bubbly cleaner. "Yeah... okay.", she wasn't giving up, but she was giving me this and it's all I could ask her. I just wanted to get through today, go to the dinner with Ryan and have a nice day tomorrow.

"Also, i meant to say-", Marina spoke up once more, her hands busy straightening the back bar, the bottles clicking over the soft rock music and atmospheric mumbling of people talking. "there's this guy, he asked about you, said he knew you and that you two use to date?", her eyes fell on me. "He asked for me by name? That's... really odd. I only had one ex.", my head tilted, eyes narrowing as i tried to think of any body would say that, but some regulars liked to say i was their girl, shit like that. I just assumed it was that. "Yeah, he's handsome. I think he's still here somewhere.", she moved to stand next to me, my head twisting to look out over the tables. "He's...", she scouted the area, finger to her chin as she moved from side to side.

As she scoped out the area, I decided to try and straighten up, making it look like we weren't just talking, our manager hated when we talked and stood around for too long. "He ordered a whiskey on the rocks and asked if I'd leave the bottle.", she mumbled, trying to spot him. "Did you?", my eyes lingered on her, picking up glasses with my fingers as I picked up them up, walking towards the kitchen window. "Yeah.", she shrugged, "Didn't see why i shouldn't.", she hummed, her lips parting as she grabbed my arm, nearly making the glasses slip from my grip as i was yanked closer to her. "There he is!", she pointed, her slender, manicured finger pointing at a guy with his head down. A half empty bottle of Jack Daniel's laid in front of him. "Him?", my brain wracked itself to try and place the darker hair and tan skin. His leather jacket hiding his build and his head hanging, hiding his features. "Yeah, sorry, no idea who that-", as I spoke, his head raised, my lips stopping, the next words dying on my lips.

A bright blue sky, a raging ocean, not a single cloud in the skies of his eyes. A clashing sound met my ears but I couldn't place where it came from until the lessened weight of my hands finally registered, the crunch of glass under my shoes ringing in my ears as I stepped back. The taste of acid once more meeting my taste buds, he couldn't be... it wasn't true. I saw him all the time, i'm passing strangers and blonde officers- this was one of those moments. Was I losing my mind? Was this real or was my mind's eye once more throwing me into a relived memory? My heart dropped once his lips curled into a knowing smirk, his hand raising the ombré glass up in a 'cheers', his blue eyes lit up with amusement. He chuckled, I couldn't hear it, i could just see his shoulders shake.

"Hey, what's wrong?", Marina's fingers dug into my shoulders as I didn't respond. "Hey-!", she shook me, her hands rocking me as she moved her face to block my sight of the man. "Are you okay?!", she was near hysterical but so was I. "Yeah-", I squeaked, it had to be him. It had to be, I couldn't be this crazy. "I just... i need a minute, okay?", my hands fell to her shoulders, she nodded, but her brows were furrowed, watching me walk away. The glass crunching with each step as I reached for my bag, immediately calling Ryan as i felt a sob fall from my lips. He was back. I wasn't safe anymore and he had seen me, asked for me... that coffin looked more and more comfortable. The one place he couldn't find me.

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sky-kiss · 8 months

Note

Okay sorry for all these prompts/ideas but I just can't get rid of these worms and would love to hear your takes on them! How would you imagine a scenario where Raphael is wounded and decided "I'm going to teleport to my favourite person instead of going back to the Hells" (maybe he was wounded in the Hells and escaped). He manages to teleport to them/their doorstep before passing out. What would ensue? 👀👀👀

p.s. I only though of this because I was thinking of Raphael without his doublet so you see that shirt and then imagined him being all bloodied and beat up 😩 Welp... Adding that to the back burner of things to draw!

A/N: Ya’ll feeling a lil’ bloodthirsty against the boy tonight. What has he done to deserve such violence? You know. Aside from everything. I’ve opted for a touch of silliness.

_________

The House of Hope is compromised.

It’s Raphael’s last cognizant thought for some time. The assassin closes the distance between them with hellish speed, a blur of wings and bladed limbs. He’s vaguely aware of the pain, but it’s the burning he feels first. It’s like acid in his veins. Poison, he thinks, and that airy disconnect startles him; it’s poisoned me.

Raphael rips the beast off him, snapping its neck in one fluid move. Screams echo throughout the House. He hears more of those things scurrying about in the main hall and something massive, something awful, crashing towards the boudoir.

They’ve come for him. His father’s men or a rival Archdevil, it matters not. He moves towards his armoire, intending to slip into the Hell Dusk armor before they are upon him, and nearly collapses. His vision swims; the muscles in his hands and calves are still in the process of cramping. Everything wants to spasm.

The cambion grits his teeth, pride warring with rationality. If they kill him here, it will be a final death. But on the Prime…even if they fell upon him, there is hope. Raphael forces his hands through the familiar gesture and casts himself among the planes. He has no destination in mind; his mind cycles through its expansive catalog of people and places and locates one with sufficient strength. The House fades.

Convenient, because so does his consciousness.

________

There’s a devil in her garden.

Well. Cambion.

Tav purses her lips, rocking back on her heels. She should probably feel panicky but can’t find it in herself. Raphael looks rough. His doublet is shredded. His red skin is tinged nearly purple, and sweat beads on his forehead. The hero of Baldur’s Gate glances back towards her cottage, down at the devil she’d once (tenuously) considered a friendly acquaintance.

If he’d thought to come to her after a decade, then things must have gone sideways back home.

She sighs, kneeling and slipping her arms under his. The devil is hot. Not in an attractive way, not even in a natural temperature way; it’s like his blood is boiling in his veins and cooking him from the inside out. She goes to move him and groans.

“Gods, couldn’t even transform to make this a little more manageable, hmm? Good to see you’ve not changed, dear.”

Getting him inside is an arduous process. Tav has to stop more than once. He’s heavier than he looks, and touching him burns her.

She finally, finally manages to drag him to the couch. Tav presses the back of her hand to his cheek. She’s no expert in Infernal medicine, but he doesn’t feel or look great. Chewing her lip, she weighs her options. Leave him and hope he awakens…

…or take matters into her own hands.

She’s always been more of a take-charge sort. Tav fetches a knife from the kitchen. He isn’t going to be happy with her, but he’ll also be alive, so it’s a tradeoff he’ll have to accept. She finishes cutting the doublet free. Seeing him without it is strange. Tav sits back on her heels. He looks smaller, so much more vulnerable without that mark of rank. The shirt beneath is rather plain by comparison. Frilled, yes, but nothing out of the ordinary. Tav cuts it away; the blood has ruined it. They’ll find something else for him to wear.

The wound stretches across his side. It oozes in some places; the skin along the edges is blackened, already starting to rot. She wonders if his mortal blood worsened or lessened the effect of the poison.

Tav fetches half a dozen potions from the pantry alongside a roll of bandages. She’ll have to work quickly and pray.

_________

Raphael regains consciousness halfway through the procedure. The cambion is aware of a pinching sensation in his side; there’s a small hand on his ribs, trying to keep him from moving away. His host pinches him. They’re saying something.

“Transform.”

Gods above and below, he recognizes that voice. The devil groans, chancing to open his eyes. Tav is staring at him, crouched between his spread leads, needle in hand.

“Not you.”

She snickers. “Me, darling. Don’t complain. You manifested in my garden.”

“Anything ruined?”

“An entire bed of night lilies.”

He huffs. “I’m glad to hear it. I should visit far more destruction upon this wretched…” the room does a dizzying turn and his nausea intensifies.

“You can visit your destruction later. Right now, I need you to transform. Your skin is a bit…” she shrugs. “More difficult to manage as a devil. You need sutures.” He snaps his fingers. The shift is not as immediate as he’d like, and he has to screw his eyes shut against the latent exhaustion. Tav’s hand shifts, moving up to cup the back of his neck. “Easy, love. You’re alright. Could you stomach a healing drought?”

He nods. Tav presses the potion into his hand and returns to her work, leaning over him. There’s a part of him, separate from the pain and sickness, which catalogs the healthier warmth of her skin and the press of her against his thigh. Her scent is precisely as he remembered. Her hair…

Raphael frowns, reaching out to tweak one shorn strand. “You cut your hair.”

She smiles, stitching him back together with practiced ease. “Do you like it?”

“Not in the least.”

Tav laughs. It’s a far cry from the last time they were together. When the wretched thing had the gall to deny him; when she’d cut ties entirely and ended their mutually beneficial relationship. She’s so close. He could snuff out her miserable life and finally make good on…

“There.” She pats his stomach, pressing back on her heels. She doesn’t move away, he notes; her elbows remain on either of his thighs. She is such a little thing, his pretty mouse, even with her horrible new hair and a smattering of fresh wrinkles. She tips her head to the side. “You’ll have to rest a while. But you’ll live.”

“The House is compromised.”

Tav finally stands. She smooths his hair back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Stay here then. We’ll make it work.”

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #asks #my fic #have some sweetness to make up for my earlier crimes #but honestly i think it would depend on the tav #if he fled to joi she'd immediately jump to committing warcrimes #because how dare anyone hurt her people #other tavs might be like who the heck is this guy why am i his emergency contact

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spqcebunsforever · 8 months

Text

I thought you were dead!?!

Pairing: LA Buggy x Reader

Summary: Buggy and Y/n are two captains who seem to both "hate" each other. Every time they meet it seems like they want to rip each other's throats out. But what happens when they both get told that the other has died how will they react.

y/n’s pov

"ONE OF THESE DAYS I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL YOU". I shouted at the blue-haired pirate who had just run away with all my rightfully stolen jewels. "NOT IF I KILL YOU FIRST DOLL" he shouted while running giving me his signature stupid smirk. I swear that clown would be the death of me this was the 3rd time we had been at the same place and we would always end up fighting. He just had such a cheek he thinks because he has powers he's better than the rest of us I honestly want to strangle him. I was about to run after him to continue our fight and hopefully get my jewels back but my first mate had run up and told me that the marines had been contacted and would be showing up any time now.

I sadly had to admit defeat because I would rather be killed by that blue-haired bastard than be caught by the Marines. "Ugh fine come on then everyone back on the ship" I was hoping that even though all my stuff had been stolen the crew had been able to grab some valuable things but I wasn't getting my hopes up I loved my crew but I knew I didn't have the sharpest crewmates the only one who had any real common sense was my first mate. So when I got on my ship I immediately went to my quarter and locked the door. The moment the door was shut I fired a dart right in the middle of the wanted poster of Buggy I had on my wall I swore that one day I would be the one to take down that annoying pirate.

A few weeks later I was pleasantly surprised I hadn't once bumped into the clown for a whole 2 weeks. I was a little suspicious at the start thinking he would pop out any second to catch me off guard but he didn't. But I can't lie after the first week things started to get boring not having someone there so you could fight was really boring we were just doing the same thing over and over again ransacking villages and leaving then the next day we would repeat the whole thing. At least when Buggy would show up we always had a different thing to fight about and I wouldn't know the exact time he would show up but he always did. While I was in my quarters thinking about how boring things had gotten my first mate came in looking a little upset. "What's wrong with you why the long face".

The news that came next was not something I was ready or expecting to hear. "We have just been given the information that Captain Buggy is dead I thought you would want to know". I didn't know how to respond I was in a state of shock for a second. "Is this a joke because if it is it's not the funniest you've told". My first mate just shook their head "No I'm sorry captain but it's not a joke but I'll leave you alone for now" and with that, they left leaving me with my thoughts. He couldn't be really dead right who would be able to kill him I couldn't think of anyone that would have been able to kill him or would have really wanted to. This was it my boring days were now here to stay I would never have to worry about him sneaking up on me or trying to steal my stuff from right under my nose and I would now never need to keep a lookout for blue hair or a random flying limb and I would now never have to worry about hearing his stupid voice ever again and thinking about that was making me...sad.

I walked straight out of my room and went straight to my first mate telling them that the plans had changed. We were supposed to be heading to a very wealthy village where we would steal all their gold but now that I'd heard this news the only place I wanted to go was a very small and poor island where me and Buggy had first met. I wanted to go back there because even though we hated each other I still had some respect for the idiot and I wanted to at least do something nice and a little bit meaningful for him. So we turned the ship around and started making our way to the island.

When we arrived I was a little upset about the state the island was in. Sure I and buggy were most of the reason that the village had been destroyed but the rest of the island looked dead there were barely any living plants and the ground was now just dirt and from the look of the place it didn't look like anyone even lived here anymore. I had told my crew that I would only be a few minutes and I left to find the perfect place to set down the flowers I had brought. It took me a while to find the perfect place but after walking around for a few moments I found the perfect place. I kneeled down and put the flowers down and before I stood up I pulled his wanted poster out of my pocket and lay it down next to the flowers and put some rocks on each side of the poster so that it would stay and the wind wouldn't blow it away.

But just as I was about to leave and head back to my ship I heard footsteps coming towards me. So thinking that it was someone who would be a danger to me I quickly hid behind the nearest tree and after hearing the footsteps stop I slowly poked my head out and I couldn't believe who I saw. Buggy the fucking clown the guy who I thought was dead and the whole reason that I even came to this island. I came out from behind the tree and pointed my finger at him. "I thought you were dead!?" he looked up at me also looking completely shocked "Wait I thought you were dead what are you doing here, I even cried over your death give me my tears back!". I had just noticed the flowers in his hands "Wait you cried when you got told I was dead" I noticed that his face was turning red. "Maybe...okay yeah I did" We both stood there in silence for a few moments until I walked closer to him and sat down where I had placed my flowers and he followed my actions sitting next to me.

"well, it's a little weird that we both wanted to respect each other at the same place". He just shrugged his shoulders "Well this is the first place where we met so I thought it would be at least nice to put down some flowers here". I just gave him a soft smile "Yeah that was my exact thought process as well". before I could say anything else Buggy picked up his wanted poster that I had put down "Why does my wanted poster have so many tiny holes in it" I just awkwardly coughed "Ugh I don't know I think I picked it up like that" He just shrugged and put the poster back down. "So you know how I reacted when I got told you had died how did you react when You heard that I died".

I didn't really know what to say because I didn't even know how I felt but I tried my best to explain it. "I don't think I wanted to admit it to myself but I was gutted I thought I would never see you again or fight you again or just be around you again and not seeing you for about 2 weeks I realized how boring it was to not have you around all the time and I guess what I'm trying to say is that I was really going to miss you if you were really dead". I turned to look him right in the eyes and he just gave me a soft smile something I didn't think I would ever see on his face "Well don't worry doll know I know how you feel I promise you that from now on none of your days are even going to be boring again and also I got these for you sure I thought you were dead but still". I took the flowers from him and let out a quiet laugh putting my head on his shoulder and we both sat there enjoying each other's company while watching the sunset.

Y/n's First mate's pov

I and Mhoji high-fived as we watched the Captains sit with each other. "Finally I'm glad you came up with this or I don't think they would ever actually speak about their feelings". I just laughed "Yeah they are both so headstrong and the plan worked perfectly just as I knew it would". Me and Mhoji again high-fived as we walked away letting the captains have some privacy.

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #captain buggy #live action one piece

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starlight727 · 3 months

Text

Shadow Milk x Reader but it's the Megamind rain scene (I had a vision)

I'm not a fanfic writer, so expect this to be a bit rushed and written badly in some parts 🤷🏻‍♀️😅

Tw violence, stabbing, severing limbs

Shadow Milk Cookie had been terrorizing the city you lived in for as long as you could remember, he either manipulated other Cookies to fight each other or he just made his presence known to random Cookies by playing pranks on them and spreading lies and let chaos ensue.

Sure, he’s a huge menace to society who likes to play God and tortures all Cookiekind for his own entertainment, but there was something about him that made you wonder if he was more than just a dangerously devious trickster. It was the way he interacted with you.

Ever since you two first met, before all hell broke loose, he saw you on the news announcing the latest on the new museum dedicated to the city’s hero. He was so interested in you he wanted to talk to you all day everyday, but he felt too shy to do so, yet he yearned for the day he could fearlessly walk up to you and introduce himself.

After his corruption, his love for you grew so much that it turned into an obsession, he couldn’t bear to be away from you for much longer, so the next best thing was to kidnap you every chance he got to hang out with you, until the city’s Hero eventually saves you and takes you away from him. He absolutely HATES IT when they do that, how dare they take away his favorite Cookie in the world and leave him alone to rot in his lonesome?? He'd rather have that so-called Hero torn limb from limb like ripping a doll's limbs off, so he came up with the brilliant idea to write them off the story by stabbing them 37 times in the chest and leaving their body in the middle of a dark alley, where someone found it and everyone mourned the selfless Hero for days. You even made an announcement for the news about the topic, you were holding back tears, something Shadow Milk Cookie did not like to see. He hated to see you feeling sad, especially since you were sad about the Hero's death because why would you feel that way over someone so weak like them?? You were better off with a much stronger, smarter, extremely more handsome Cookie than some piece of cardboard he called the Hero, he thought to himself.

A few days later, Shadow Milk Cookie decided to disguise himself as a regular Cookie, naming himself "Blueberry Muffin Cookie". He thought that it was finally time to shoot his shot and start hanging out with you again after the whole "dead hero" thing. You first met Blueberry Muffin Cookie while you were revisiting the museum for the third time in the same week. He seemed kind and gentle with you, he didn't talk much but did make the effort to listen to you, so you didn't feel so lonely. You two started hanging out after the museum encounter, you went to an art gallery, had a few picnics in the park and you were just having a wonderful time.

You didn't realize you were in love with him until he complimented your laugh after he told you a really good joke. You always thought your laugh sounded weird, everyone pointed it out constantly and it made you feel annoyed and insecure about it. But once he told you how much he liked your laugh and how cute it was, you swore you felt something burning in your heart, your face was a bright red and your smile was so genuine it made Blueberry Muffin Cookie blush for a moment. Oh, how he loved you so much, he loved everything about you: Your beautiful face, your kind and courageous self, and that sweet laugh of yours.

After many dates, you both wanted to keep seeing each other. You were so excited for the day that you two could hang out again, you wanted to see his adorable face again, you were giggling and kicking your feet from just thinking about him! Shadow Milk Cookie, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about you, he had so many pictures of you, he even had a plushie of you that he made himself for cuddling and playing with. Finally, you arranged a date at a fancy restaurant for both of you and Blueberry Muffin Cookie was SO EXCITED about it that he hugged you and lifted you up in the air, spinning around with you in his arms, both of you laughing heartily. When he stopped spinning, the laughing died down and he put you down next to him, both of you looking at each other and staring into each other's gorgeous eyes. You gave him a kiss on the cheek, a soft smile and left by saying goodbye and see you tomorrow to him, which made him freeze in his place, put his hand on the cheek you kissed, turn as blue as a blueberry and smile so much that it almost made his face hurt. He was so happy to have you by his side, he felt extremely lucky to have you with him.

The next day came and Shadow Milk Cookie was preparing for the night of the restaurant date as fast as he could, when he was reday he tried his best to contain his energy because he was too impatient. He wanted the day to go faster so he could finally see you again. Finally, it was night time at the fancy restaurant, the sky looked like it was gonna rain soon, Cookies were eating and hanging out either outside or in the same restaurant you were in. Some were talking about what they did during their day, others were worried about the next Beast Cookie attack.

But none of that mattered because you were about to eat dinner with the most wonderful Cookie in the world, Blueberry Muffin Cookie. You were waiting patiently for him to show up, he came up to you all dressed up in his finest suit, while you were wearing a beautiful purple dress. You both talked the night away while enjoying the food you ordered. Everything was going great, all the Cookies talking around you ceased to exist, it was just you and your beloved. Things got even better when both of you started to lean in closer to each other, looked at each other, closed your eyes and finally shared a long, soft kiss. You wished this moment could last forever, Blueberry Muffin Cookie Shadow Milk Cookie felt the same way, but something about him was off. Turns out he was using a lot of his magic for the disguise for so long that he was running out of it faster than he thought, he was feeling exhausted from all the energy he spent on keeping the disguise, but now was not the time to think about, now was time to enjoy the rest of the night with your beloved Cookie and... wait... is it just him or did everyone start screaming and crying all of a sudden?

Unfortunately, it wasn't just him hearing all of that, you were hearing it as well. You opened your eyes to see what was going on, and that's when pure, unbridled shock shot through you, you had just realized what everyone was screaming about: you were kissing the monstrous Beast of Deceit, Shadow Milk Cookie! Shadow Milk Cookie opened his eyes and all he saw was true fear in your eyes, he was confused when you shoved him away from you. Your breath was heavy and your mind was rushing through so many thoughts all at once, but the one thought you couldn't shake was the fact that you were hanging out with Shadow Milk Cookie all this time!

"What? What??" He said in a confused yet concerned tone, then his face became pale after he noticed his hands were back to normal, this meant that his disguise wore off! He gasped and exclaimed in a panicked way, saying "DON'T LOOK AT ME!!" while trying to cover your face with his hands being close to his, hoping you wouldn't see him. "It's just a technical glitch! Don't look yet!" he added while trying to gather as much power as he could to change his appearance again, but every time he changed, it would be the other Cookie disguises he's used over the years. Some Cookies were able to recognize the disguises, others were shocked at the fact that he could have been right next to them and they wouldn't have noticed! He changed into a completely different Cookie who wasn't Blueberry Muffin Cookie and said "Where were we?", trying his absolute best to make things go back to normal. But you weren't having it, you quickly grabbed your cup of water and splashed him instantly, making him squirm, revealing his true self.

"You!"

"Now, now hold on!"

"YOU!"

Lighting strikes close by, it started raining a few minutes ago, luckily you were walking under roofs so you wouldn't get soggy. You walked away from the restaurant, avoiding eye contact with any other Cookies you walked past. How could you have been so stupid? It should have been obvious that Blueberry Muffin Cookie was Shadow Milk Cookie from the beginning, but it wasn't! That's how good Shadow Milk Cookie was at disguising himself as another Cookie, he changed his entire personality just to be with you... and that... actually sounds like a big commitment for a common Cookie like yo- WAIT WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! He was clearly using you for one of his evil plans, that had to be it!

Suddenly, a dark mist drifted closer and closer to you, the blue eyes in the shadows gave you a good idea of who it was. "I can explain!" said Shadow Milk Cookie as he came out of the dark mist he created, but you just turned around and growled at this pathetic attempt of redemption. Shadow Milk Cookie got slightly annoyed at this gesture, but he knew he shouldn't feel that way, after all, he's the one who lied to you about everything.

"What about everything you just said? About judging a book by its cover?!" he mentioned something you talked about in the restaurant, something about not judging a book by its cover or a Cookie from the outside. It was something he felt very relieved about because he asked you if you would still enjoy his company if he was blue and unhinged, to which you said yes, which made his heart beat faster and his face shine brighter. One thing you mentioned about the "judging a book" thing tho was... you judge Cookies based on their actions. He said that it seemed kind of petty, which made you laugh, something he enjoyed very much, but the thought of you judging him based on his actions felt like a threat to him, which didn't sit well with him. He would just have to keep the disguise forever until the end of your days (he didn't like to think about that)... until...

"Well, let's take a look at the contents then, shall we?" You started, which made Shadow Milk Cookie's eyes widen by just a bit. "You killed the Hero", you shoved him slightly by tapping his chest, making him stumble backwards, he was not proud of what the situation was turning into, especially since he was the main focus of the drama in a horrible way. "You terrorized the citizens", you shoved him again, his guilt showing on his face. "And then, you actually got me to CARE about you!", you clutched your head for a few seconds before letting go, Shadow Milk Cookie was NOT enjoying this one bit, he loved drama but this was completely different.

"Why are you so evil?? Tricking me?! What could you possibly hope to gain?" you asked and pondered about your question as you looked as Shadow Milk Cookie look down for a moment then look back up again at you with his pupils being a lot bigger than they usually are. He genuinely felt sorry about lying to you, you noticed that by staring into his eyes for a good amount of time and came to a gut-wrenching conclusion: He was in love with you.

Your eyes widened in shock, Shadow Milk Cookie noticed and raised his head with wide eyes as well, what was your final answer? "Wait a minute, oh... I don't believe this..." you began, this made his guts twist in an unpleasant way, he grabbed his full body suit (on the belly area) tightly, making it get wrinkled, he didn't want to hear the next part. "Did you really think that I would ever... be with you?" you finished, SHATTERING Shadow Milk Cookie's evil little heart, it was over, it was so over... he didn't want to let you go, but he had to, he had kept you in the dark for far too long, it would be immoral to drag you into any more problems. Finally, grabbing as much willpower as he could, he responded with "No."

You didn't think he meant that, but you didn't want to stay and find out, so you walked away. As you were getting farther away from him, all Shadow Milk Cookie could do was stare at you, he stretched his hand out to you a bit, but quickly retracted it due to the shame he was feeling. This was the first time he actually felt bad about tricking someone, that someone was you, and he couldn't forgive himself. He turned his gaze down, looking at the floor, he felt something running down his cheeks but can't tell if they're raindrops or teardrops. Either way, it didn't matter, he lost you forever, so he hugged himself to try to fill the void where his heart was, and walked away while still hugging himself, he needed to feel something other than guilt and sorrow.

Something he didn't notice, or even tried to, was you... looking back at him. Even though he lies to you about his true self, you still felt something for him. He put in a lot of effort to talk to you, no one had ever done that for you before. You were usually alone most of the time and not that many Cookies wanted to talk to you, but you felt like Shadow Milk Cookie had made a real connection with you, you never felt so loved by someone else before. He made you laugh, he made you smile, he very much enjoyed your company and you loved him just as much as he loved you. He loved you for who you are, he let you be yourself without judging you, he was all you could ever ask for...

But right now is not the best moment to think about that, so you turned your head and walked away again, straight to the apartment you live in. There, you continued to think about all that just happened and all the times you spent with the blue jester, and you couldn't explain your feelings very well. Meanwhile, Shadow Milk Cookie was sulking in his Spire, regretting lying to you and letting you go, but leaving you was the right thing to do. You two just needed some space to think about stuff, and maybe... just maybe... you two could end up on good terms again. But that depends on the choices you make, so all that can be said is... think about it.

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