#but he still saw the jab as hurtful anyway & i :(

[bigification]

Bear Darts

"Yes! They finally came in." I say in excitement as I pick up a package in front of my dorm. I rush inside and rip open the package. 8 small darts with a weird green liquid inside and a bamboo tube. "There's no way they actually work right?" The website seemed so legit and the concept seemed too good to be true. "Guaranteed to transform any man into a certified bear." Was the tag line. I am tempted to jab one of them into my arm right now, but I'm too nervous. What if it's just poison or something? I should at least test it out, it'll be fun anyway.

I stuff the darts and the bamboo into my bag and head to campus. Who to start with? Mr. Henderson could be a good option. I don't like him so if it goes wrong I don't care, and he's pretty scrawny so I'll be able to see any difference. I decide to head to Mr. Henderson's office, figuring he'll be a good test run.

On the way, I come across a raccoon rummaging through garbage in an alley, and an idea sparks through my mind. If it's that harmful, it would hurt a raccoon, so I might as well test them out. I pull out a dart and the bamboo and head into the alley. I slot the dart into the end of the bamboo, line up the shot, and blow as hard as I can. I hear the swoosh of the dart piercing the wind. The dark hits the raccoons back and it barely reacts, as if it's just a measly mosquito bite. The green liquid drains out of the dart, and I wait for a reaction. It doesn't take long for the animal to start twitching. It's hard to tell in the shadow of the alley, but my kind went straight to the worst, it was poisonous. But then I saw its body change shape. It wasn't much, but its scrawny limbs grew thicker, its belly grew rounder, and its grubby little paws grew larger. By the end, it still resembled a raccoon, just larger and meatier than you'd expect a raccoon to be. Could this be real? I continue watching as the raccoon resumes its normal activities.

I let out a chuckle in excitement at what was yet to come. I walk back out of the alley and speed walk to Mr. Henderson's office, this was gonna be good. The website said results may vary depending on what the person looked like before the transformation, and based on other things like genetics. Essentially it's random. But I was still hoping to see Mr. Henderson with a big hairy gut spilling out of his shirt.

I finally make it to his office and I slowly open his door just a sliver. He's standing in the middle of the room, looking over at the wall to the left of the door. I feel confident enough that he's not able to see the door from the way he's looking. I look over to see he's very concentrated on a bunch of photos hung up on the wall, which makes sense as he's a photography prof.

I take a mental image of the prof before I line up the shot, so I can compare the before and after in my mind. He's got buzz cut and a bushy salt and pepper beard. His frame is quite skinny but I can see a little bit of a belly and moobs under his shirt. That shirts definitely not doing him any favours, I wonder what it will look like on him after. His arms and legs are scrawny, with little fat or muscle on them. He's also wearing some camo shorts.

Now with his image locked in my head, I prepare a dart and like up the shot. Same with the raccoon, I blow as hard as I can and the dart lodges into the side of his belly. He flinches for a moment, but then stops in places. I can see his muscle twitching, as if they're cramping and freezing him in place. It all happens so quickly. It starts with his belly. His small belly grows in waves of soft fat, each wave packing dozens of pounds. Each wave makes his gut jiggle more and more as it grows rounder and rounder. His gut and his love handles spill over his waistline as his shirt rides up, revealing a stretched out belly button. Soon enough, it appears as though he stuffed a small beach ball into his stomach with how large it is. Though it is soon complemented by a growing pair of soft moobs. If what he had before were moobs, he now has full on man tits. They're soft and round, pressing tightly against his shirt. I can even see his nipples harden under the shirt. Next to fall is his ass. His once flat derriere quickly plumped up similar to his belly. Waves of fat perked up his ass as it threatened to rip through his shorts. The button on his pants popped off and flung across the office in dramatic fashion, leaving his fly wide open. His arms and his legs thickened slightly as a layer of fat covered them, though they stayed quite skinny in proportion to his body. Also, in the process, his beard had grown out and became almost all grey.

The entire time I could feel my dick riding up into my waist band. This was so much hotter than I expected it to be. I want to go in there and get my hands on that fatass so bad, but I have to have restraint. His muscles have stopped twitching and he seems back in control, though he still seems laser focused on the wall of photos. He reaches to scratch his belly and seems a bit shocked at the fact that he's scratching skin rather than shirt. "Huh, I coulda sworn this fit yesterday, musta shrunk in the wash." He shrugs, completely oblivious to the changes his body had just gone through. I don't know if I find it more or less hot that he seems to not care that he's a fatass. I don't have time to think about it though, as he starts to turn towards the door. I quickly grab my bag and run. I'll get to see him for photography class tomorrow anyway.

I think about who I want to hit next. I've got 6 darts left and plenty of profs on my list. Now that it seems safe, I'm more willing to go for profs I like. So I think one of the hottest prof off the top of my head. Mr. Ahmed. God he's hot. He's got perfectly toned skin, a thick black beard, and beautiful eyes. The only thing is he's quite skinny, and I like my men thick. So this is the perfect opportunity, and his office is close by.

I arrive at his office and see him just on his phone. My mouth salivates as I think about what I'm gonna do to him. I pull out a dart and shoot it. It lands right into his biceps and the green liquid rapidly drains from the dart. My hand instinctively drifts to my crotch as I wait in anticipation.

He froze in place, just like Henderson. But this time it started from his arm instead of his belly, it must be from wherever the dart hits. His once skinny arm swells, ripping his sleeve in the process. His forearm followed suit, growing a thick pelt of hair in the process as his delicate hand grew into a monstrous man hand. The transformation continued into his shoulders, then to his chest. His shoulders broadened, pushing his small shirt to its limits. Then his suddenly exploded outward, tearing straight through what was left of his shirt. Thick muscles now lay under thick man tits as they hand over his stomach. His already thick chest hair became more dense as his nipples grew large and sensitive. His other arm quickly grew just as large as the first, evening out his hulking body. His exposed belly went from flat to large and rotund in a matter of seconds, though it remained quite solid from strong muscle that grew below it. His gut befell a similar fate to the rest of his body, being covered in a layer of dark hairs.

His lower half quickly grew to match his upper half. Fat and muscle flooded into his ass and thighs until his dress pants ripped in dramatic fashion, leaving him in nothing but his extremely tight underwear, leaving little to the imagination. The legs continued to grow, and his feet seemed to grow at least five sizes, busting out of his shoes. Finally his facial features began to change. The rather young professor looked as if he aged 15 years in just moments as wrinkles and blemishes riddled his face, and his hairline receded slightly. His face also seemed to become a bit chubbier, matching his hulking gut.

He finally unfroze, seeming unfazed by changes in his body. He reached to stretch some of his muscles, I'm sure they're sore after such an intense transformation. But he quickly realized his lack of clothing and left to a backroom to find some. The idea that he wouldn't be able to find any clothes that remotely fit him made it all the more hot for me, but I got out before I got caught.

I was on top of the world, there was no way I would stop now. I thought about who to find next, and the choice seemed obvious. Mr. Salim, how could I forget the health and fitness prof. Ive never had him, but damn it is tempting to take a fitness class just to get to look at him more. He kinda looked like Mr. Ahmed but buff, cocky, and far more charming.

I quickly made it to the fitness building and found his office. I peaked in and saw him working out with his earbuds in, this was my shot. Without hesitation I load a dart and shoot. I chuckle quietly as I see the dart lodge into his ass. He goes to scratch his ass but fails to notice the dart, soon after he drops his weights and freezes in place. His already perky ass grows slightly, but not as much as I'd expect. Still enough to pants ride down his ass a bit, revealing a bright blue jockstrap. Of course Mr. Salim would wear a jockstrap. His thighs grow significantly, bulging with muscle to the point of ripping his pants. The rest of his legs follow suit, growing thick calves and massive feet.

I can see under his shirt that his waist is tightening up, which is surprising given that he's the first one to not get fat. A little disappointing if you ask me, but I'm not disliking what I see so far. His shoulders broaden and his chest puffs out, ripping right through his shirt. His arms nearly double in size, making his look like a bodybuilder as his hands grow to match. His face seemed to age as some of his hair turned grey. As he aged, his already hairy body became even more so, covering most of his body in thick salt and pepper hair. Even his stubble grew out into a thick silver beard.

Mr. Salim put down his weights, got up, and walked to the mirror in his office. He turned so he could see his ass in the mirror and snapped a photo.

A part of me was hoping to see him become a fat slob, something about fat gym teachers always got me going. But I certainly wouldn't complain about this view.

The health and fitness building is right beside geography and history, so I should head there. I try to think of a teacher I've had in this department. Maybe Mr. Smith? I had him for first year history and he's hot, I just remember him being a bit weird. That doesn't matter, I'm already on my way to his office.

I peak through his door and see him focused on his computer, perfect timing. I load a dart and shoot it. It hits him in the side of his thigh. Within moments I can see his jeans struggling to contain his growing legs. His jeans become even tighter as fat fills his ass, creating a loud pop sound as his belt snaps off.

His slim torso expands until he has a thick muscle gut and love handles that spill over his jeans. His chest grows into two strong but soft looking pecs that are impossible to miss through his tight shirt. His arms explode with muscle, making it look like they're gonna rip his sleeves. Finally his face fattens up a bit as a short beard covers his soft jawline.

Mr. Smith leans back in his chair and crossed his arms over his tank of a gut.

It wasn't what I expected for Mr. Smith to be honest. I expected him to turn into a big fat history teacher, but he is hotter as a muscle chub. As I'm watching, he goes to unzip his jeans. He whips out his massive dick and starts to jerk off. Damn I didn't expect Mr. Smith to be packing that, but maybe it's a side effect of the darts. I keep watching until he swivels his chair in my direction, I can't risk being caught so I leave.

I look at my watch and realize I've lost track of time, I have a math class right now. I run across the campus to my math class and quietly sit at the back of the theatre.

I quickly get bored and wonder if I should hit Mr. Derrick with a dart in the middle of the lecture. It's risky but I'm bored so fuck it. I pull out the dart and try to shoot it as quietly as possible and it hits him square in the stomach. Mr. Derrick is a very scrawny man, so I'm curious about how it's gonna effect him.

As soon as he gets hit, he stops talking and freezes in place, but weirdly enough, no one in the class seems to notice. The man's skinny body explodes with fat. At first he grows a small pot belly, then a sizable beer belly, then it settles as a giant ball gut that looks like he stuffed a beach ball down his button up. I'm surprised his shirt has ripped yet. His chest grows two man tits that are visible through his shirt. The sleeve of his jacket starts to look like stuffed sausages as his fat arms fill out all the space in them. The man's thighs thicken until his pants start to rip and his fat ass causes his fly to rip open. Finally his clean shaven face grows a thick brown beard.

He continued the lecture as if nothing had happened. His lack of awareness of his body makes even more hot. I can't believe he ended up that fat, I can see his gut spill out of his shirt each time he reaches up. And every part of his body bounces when he walks around. Eventually he ended up sitting down for the second half of the lecture, and he was often out of breath from just talking.

Once the lecture is over, I walk up to the front of the theatre and talk to Mr. Derrick.

"Hey, I've been struggling keeping up with the material lately, I was wondering if we could have a one on one session?" I ask him.

"Oh ya for sure, just come by during my office hours and I'd be happy to help." He responds. The man is practically panting at this point and I can see the sweat start to drench his beard.

"By the way, I don't think that shirt fits you anymore sir." I say just to make him uncomfortable. He just looks down, blushes, and runs off. Hobbling as fast as he can out of the theatre.

I got two darts left, I should use them wisely. The only teacher I can think of right now is Mr. Brown. His voice is so deep and buttery but his body doesn't match it, he's really skinny. I think he'd be better off as a bear anyway.

I make my way to the athletics facility, I've had him for French and English class, so I know where to find him. He works out around this time most days, so I make my way to the gym. As I walk to the gym, I see him in the corner of my eye in the showers. He's turned away from me, so I quickly take my shot, hitting him in the back. His back muscles grow and become more defined before a thick layer of fat covered them and creates thick rolls down his back. His stomach grows into a sizable belly with a thick belly button. His chest expands, first to juicy pecs, but then they slowly soften into a pair of moobs. His traps grow as his shoulders broaden, I also notice that he's getting taller, like a lot taller. He was shorter than me, but now his head is well above the shower head. His arms grow to match the rest of his hulking body.

Next his ass widened and started to sag slightly under its own weight. His thighs thickened until they rubbed together and his feet grew from a size 11 to a monstrous size 20. I also noticed his dick grow to at least 10 inches, if not more. All the while he was still getting taller, by now his shoulders were above the shower head. Finally his facial features became softer and fatter as the hair on his head fell out, although his stubble grew into a thick black beard.

As the transformation ends, Mr. Brown reaches behind him and grabs the dart out of his back. He's the only one to have noticed it. He looks at the dart for a moment, then turns toward me. I try to duck behind the wall, but I think he saw me. I hide in one of the bathroom stalls until I hear him leave, with the size of that man, it's not hard to tell where he's walking.

Once I can't hear him anymore, I rush out of the stall and grab my bag. But just as I reach the door, I bump into Mr. Brown. He's waiting at the doorway with a small green towel wrapped around his waist.

"What's this?" He says holding up one of my darts. Interestingly enough, it's a full one. The one I shot him with should be empty, so that means. Oh no. I look through my bag, the last dart is gone. Before waiting for a response, Mr. Brown just grabs my arm and jabs the dart into it.

I feel frozen in place. My clothes feel tighter and tighter until I hear them rip. I feel the warmth of the locker room air touch my bare skin. I start to feel itchy all over my body as my perspective shifts higher and higher. I feel so strong. I feel like I've grown a foot in height, but I'm still at eye level with Mr. Browns chest.

I finally gain control of my body and look down at the damage. I have thick pecs and a little bit of a belly, all covered in hair. Thick arms and legs, also covered in hair, actually my entire body is now covered in hair. And the bulge in my underwear is massive.

I turn my attention back to Me. Brown.

"Where did you get these?" He asks in his deep intimating voice. I stutter for a moment. "I'm not gonna snitch, I just got a few people I want to use it on." Mr. Brown asks. My fear turns to excitement as I realize the damage Mr. Brown and I are gonna do together.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #male wg #reality change #muscle tf #male transformation

[d0youc0py]

Hi! Really love all your works! You write boys so good!

I saw, that your requests are open, so I want to make request for the first time) (Feel free to ignore it, if you don't like the idea or find it triggering. TW: panic attack, abuse)

Can you write a one short for the 141 boys plus Konig, where during fight with their s/o (reader), they accidentally send reader into a panic attack? Maybe the cause of this reaction is a story of abuse in the reader's past or something like that. How would boys react? What would they do?

Thank you in advance!

P.S. Sorry for grammar or semantic errors, english isn't my mother tongue.

He was on you in an instant. It always seemed like nothing got past him- and your instant change in demeanor was no exception.

Your hands pressed against his stomach, trying to create some form of distance between the two of you. With gritted teeth- he obliged.

“I shouldn’t have been so firm with you, Honey. I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, like the John you knew. It didn’t comfort you like it usually did.

“It’s alright.” You gasped, your body feeling like it was being weighted down by chains.

“Don’t pacify me. It’s not alright.” John pressed. His hand raised but quickly went back to his side when he saw your hesitation to be touched. Your eyes fled up to his, waiting for him to get angry again at your rejection, yet all you saw were his heavy blue eyes. Heavy with hurt and anger, yet you instinctually knew none of it was at you. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Let me help you, please. Let me fix this sweetheart.”

You didn’t have the energy or wits to refuse.

You couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. His breaths were always light and careful even if he was fast asleep. You however were a mess. Shaky, cold yet sweaty, your heart pounding a mile a minute. You pulled the covers back and slowly slipped out of bed. You glanced behind you, half praying he was awake and would usher you back to bed. You could almost hear the displeased rumble coming from his chest as he patted you back to sleep. But not so much as a stir came from him. You crept into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid, holding a towel over your mouth to muffle your sobs. A familiar wave of weakness wash over you. Your mind instantly fled to flight mode.

The events of tonight made you wonder if there was anyway to revive your relationship. He completely shut down- only opening his mouth to give a few verbal jabs here and there. This wasn’t the first time you had sobbed to yourself in the bathroom, but you had never felt heartbreak quite like this before.

“You alright in there?” You jumped at the gruff voice on the other side of the door.

You took a quick breath offering a pitiful “yeah”. Suddenly the door opened and you quickly leapt up, your first instinct to shut the door. His heart sank when he caught sight of you.

“Sweetheart.” Simon said quickly. He used his body to keep you from shutting the door. You used the towel to wipe your face- a little too harshly for his liking. His hand came up, pulling your hands away from your face. “Fucking hell.” He grumbled, mostly to himself.

“I’m sorry.” You started. He quickly hushed you, a displeased rumble leaving his chest just like you had imagined.

“Not your fault.” He shushed. “I was an ass, Lovie. I knew how you would react I still chose to go about things the way I did. I’m sorry.” He tilted your chin up, running his thumb across it.

Your breathing was shallow- not that he could tell over his shouting. He was a hothead and it was reminding you all too much of your past. Your hands pulled at the collar of your shirt hoping it would ease the feeling of your world falling in on you. The living room was suddenly too small. The TV suddenly too loud. The lights suddenly too bright. Your head felt too light. Your skin too itchy and your body too twitchy. Johnny’s burning blue eyes flickered from place to place making you wonder if you even still needed to be there. He seemed fine carrying on this argument with himself. Yet you were frozen. His growling voice suddenly stopped.

Your eyes left the floor to glance at him. He watched you with careful blue eyes, that softened by the minute. He was assessing you and he quickly realized it wasn’t good.

“Bon?” His voice was warm- familiar.

“Please stop yelling Mac.” You whispered. He nodded his head in agreement clearing the distance between the two of you.

“Is it too soon for me to say I’m sorry.” He questioned. He leaned against the wall, slowly guiding your shaky form towards him. “Christ.” He murmured, holding his lips firm against your head. “I know better and I should’ve done better, Bon.”

He was a fairly patient man- especially when it came to you, but he was losing his mind. His trained ears only being able to focus on your sniffles and you trying to get your breathing back to normal. His molten eyes stared straight ahead, his body twitching to go to you. He had lost his temper- not so much at you but at a situation. By the time he realized just how badly he had upset you- it was too late. You practically begged him to give you space and he obliged- kind of.

The couch creaked as he stood, quietly making his way towards the bedroom. He knocked softly against the doorframe, like one move would startle you like a scared deer. He was right, you jumped.

“Ky, I’m alright. I promise.” You assured, your face half buried in a pillow. He wanted you to seek comfort from him. He sat down and slowly moved the tear stained pillow away from your face.

“Let me take care of this, please.” He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss below your ear.

He was furious that he had let himself go like that. Part of his job was keeping his emotions in check and he couldn’t do that for the one person it really mattered. He was so upset he hadn’t even noticed how distraught you were until nearly ran out of the room. He had talked you down, apologies flowing from his lips till he saw some sign that you were believing him.

He had coaxed you into his arms- the place you would stay for as long as you’d wished to. At least that’s what he told himself. But the way his arms wrapped so tightly around you it appeared to be much more of his decision than yours.

“I hope you can forgive me, Schatz.” He said it aloud but it felt like he was talking more to himself.

“You didn’t know Konig.” You muttered. He winced at the formality of his name. No “Konnie” or “Kon” or some random German word you had decided to be his nickname for the day.

“Don’t make excuses for me.” He ran a hand up and down your back. “No one deserves that treatment less than you. I’m sorry I scared you, it won’t happen again.”

Thank you for your kind words! Hope you liked it! Writing this made me realize how little I write Konig. 🩷

#d0youc0py #doyoucopy #cod #cod men #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod x reader #cod mwf2 #simon ghost riley #captain john price #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghost x Reader #soap x reader #price x reader #Gaz x reader #Konig #konig x reader #soap is still alive #cod x gn!reader #gn reader

[last-herondale]

Almost Pt. 2

Bucky POV (W/ FemReader)

Angst, heartbreak, sadness

Tw: some mild curse words

AN: Hellooooo. I had an idea for a part two! Two fics in one week? Who do I think I am? 😳 anyway here is Bucky’s point of view on what happened after part one! Will link below! Maybe this will be a new series? Idk feeling ambitious 🤣

Part 1

Part 3

Enjoy 🤘🏼

It had been six weeks since Steve’s party. Six agonizing weeks of silence. Forty-two days of not hearing your voice. One thousand and eight hours of not seeing you smile at my stupid jokes. Sixty thousand, four hundred, and eighty minutes of not seeing the light dance in your eyes whenever you saw me enter the room. Three million, six hundred thousand twenty eight, and eight hundred seconds since I saw you walk away from me during that party after confessing your love for me.

You said you needed time. I respected that. I understood that.

After you bared your soul to me, I told you what I thought you needed to hear. That I wasn’t good enough for you. That you deserved better. It was difficult to stand there and see the light die from your eyes as I said these things. It was painful to see you cry, knowing that I had been the one to cause you that pain. But it was devastating for me to realize that despite how much I loved you, how much I cared for you, that the words I said were still true. Agonizingly so.

I expected that this type of honesty would destroy our friendship. Even though I still held out hope in my selfish mindset that we could continue on like we had in the past. Spending our free nights together, laughing, joking, having fun together, sharing memories, crying, hugging, everything we used to do…

But of course, those dreams had not come into fruition.

When you volunteered to be shipped out of the country for a mission the day after Steve’s party, I knew it was to get away from me. And despite my frustration and worry about you leaving on some dangerous mission without me in the state you were in, Steve assured me that you would be fine. He didn’t know the extent of what happened, but Steve being the inquisitive son of a bitch he is, he was able to connect some of the dots at least. Surprisingly he didn’t lecture or judge me. I was expecting to get an earful from him about how I treated you, led you on, and hurt your feelings, but in return I got nothing.

The mission was only supposed to last for two weeks, but as the days grew longer, the whole team was on edge when the two of you didn’t return. Steve kept communications with Tony, and he would pass along the messages to the rest of us. “They hit a snag. They are safe but they are bunking down for a bit.”

I felt like I was on pins and needles. I just needed to know you were safe, that you were okay. I must have looked worse for wear around the tower, because even Nat noticed and had a conversation with me in my room. It was a little strange. Having her back in my apartment, alone, her fiery gaze still as piercing as it was when we were together. But those feelings I held for her were gone. Something else lingered there, a fondness for the time we had, but nothing more.

I knew she was your best friend, so I assumed you told her everything about what happened at the party, but when she came into my apartment with a stern gaze on me, arms crossed and all, all she said was.

“I don’t know what happened the other night at Steve’s party, but you need to stop moping and get a grip.”

“I’m fine. Stay out of it,” I said with an icy tone.

Nat just rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at me. “If you don’t feel anything for her, then stay away or get your shit together. She cares about you too much to walk away from you, Bucky.” Nat’s voice grew softer as she thought of you. “Whenever she comes back, and she will come back, she needs to heal. She cannot continue to be your emotional support puppet. It's draining her, James. Every time she returns from hanging out with you I see less and less of her return. She cannot continue to give you all of her heart when she is receiving none of it back.

“So for her sake, please, let her go.”

It was a hard thing to hear, but it was necessary. I stopped driving myself mad with when you would return. It was difficult, maddeningly so, but after another week I was able to distract myself enough with other things… other people. I did a few missions here and there, nothing that took me out of the country, but it filled some of the time I had to think about you.

I spent time with Nadia, the girl I had gone on a few dates with, the girl I had broken your heart over. Our relationship was purely physical. She was another distraction, someone to pass the time with. She didn’t seem to mind the distance I put between us. We weren’t exclusive by any means, and she was free to explore all of her options, but that was as far as that would go. Not that I could ever tell you this, even though I wanted to.

That was the shittiest part of it all. I missed you. Constantly. I missed talking with you about every single part of my day. I missed hearing about your day, or the silly little thoughts that swirled in your curious head. I missed spending my weekends with you, staying up until the sun rose, seeing you curled up in a ball on my couch, sleeping so peacefully. The ache in my chest never ceased, but I was able to drown away the thought of you for moments at a time.

And then you returned.

It was like a blow to the heart, seeing you standing in the kitchen, casually making yourself a bowl of cereal. Your skin seemed tanner than when you left. Clearly you had been somewhere where the sun kissed your skin for long periods of time. You looked beautiful, even just in your morning casual wear. You hadn’t noticed me yet. I was frozen in the entryway, trying to think of something intelligible to say to you, when Steve walked in through the other way. He too had not noticed me yet, his skin also sunkissed and a bit long.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before any sound could come out, I watched as my best friend slid his arms around your waist, turned you around in a swift and gentle motion, and kissed you. Ice filled my veins and it felt as if a rock had dropped in my stomach. I staggered backwards a bit, hiding myself more in the darkness of the archway as I saw the scene unfold.

Steve was kissing you. His hands were gentle around your waist, and although you were taken by surprise in the moment, you stood on your toes to be more on his level. You cupped his face and smiled. You were smiling. You looked…happy.

I slipped away back down the hallway and into my room before I could see more. The image of my best friend kissing the love of my life was burned into my mind. I sat on my bed in a disgruntled mess, fighting the strange waves of feelings that were swirling in my body.

You were finally back. You were safe. At that I was able to release the tension in my chest that I had been holding since you left. And then… Steve. What had changed during those six weeks you were gone? Was it serious? Did you love him? Did he love you? These questions paced back and forth inside of my brain until I was nearly dizzy.

It was the memory of Nat’s voice that stuck out amongst my own thoughts. “Let her go.”

You had been happy in that kitchen. Steve was a good man, too good to play with someone’s feelings if he didn’t truly feel something for them. Steve was good for you. That’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? The reason why I broke your heart in the first place? To set you free to find someone that would love you in all the ways I was incapable of doing. Why was I mad that you had done that? Why did I want to punch Steve for kissing you?

I clenched my fists as I sat on the bed. My body shook with so much emotion. In the torental storm that was my mind, I tried to focus on one memory. The only one that mattered. That night on the balcony. You had stood there, hair swirling in the breeze, more beautiful than the night sky. And you said it.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words calmed me. The memory of that night grounded me. Your tears. Your sadness. Your anger. I caused that. “I’m in love with you.” That is what you told me. And even though I wanted to scream it back, to shout it from the roof that I loved you too, instead I denied you. I threw it back in your face to save you from what I am. I hurt you, and this was my punishment. Seeing you pick up the pieces of that love that I shattered and give it to someone who would nurture that love.

I sat there thinking and thinking, until my head was pounding. I laid down on my bed, the image of you kissing someone else burning in my head.

“I’m in love with you too,” I muttered to myself.

Then, as tears began to silently fall down my face, I began to laugh.

#reader x marvel #marvel fanfic club #fan fic author #fic writing #james bucky barnes #fem reader #marvel #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #heartbroken #angst #angst prompt

[harrystylesfan2686]

Ok, hi! I'm so excited to order number 6 with Azriel!🤩

Crazy Girl

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the one where you both get in trouble because az almost killed a guy for touching you.

Warning: non consensual touching, mention of whipping. Not edited.

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for requesting!! This is again, from when the boys were in training. Hope you like this 🫶

Dialogue Prompts Masterlist

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You and Azriel walk into Devlon's cabin, the biggest one in the camp, not counting the one Rhy's mother has. The two of you were in big trouble.

Him having punched a fellow tranie for you.

You were minding your business, you cleaning the weapons, filled with blood, as your chore of the day. As much as you hate doing so, there was no way you could say no.

You were grimacing while cleaning off a sword when one of the males training came to pick up one of the sparking blades. The male took one look at you up and down and smirk. You didn't realize his intentions until his arm wrapped thightly around your waist and his hot breath felt above your ear.

You were disgusted the second he put his hands on you and tried to fight out of his hold but his hand tightened and the other joined too, holding your thigh. "You're a hot piece of ass." You almost gagged at his words.

"Let me go." You forced yourself to be calm, knowing rudeness will not take you anywhere. You look around you for help, heart jumping when you see no one around. You could harm him, but definitely not enough to run from him. He was a warrior, for gods' sake, doesn't matter if still in training.

"Nah, I think not." You struggle in his hands when his palm slides up on your thigh. "I saw you going in that shadowsinger's cabin yesterday, one of the many nights I see you together." You freeze, your blood growing cold in fear at the thought of you both getting caught.

"You must be a good fuck for him to go back crawling to you again and again." You move in action when his hand goes dangerously close between your legs, bunching up your gown. You shoot out your arm, with as much force as you can, slaming your elbow against his nose.

The unexpected blow catching him off guard, his head snapping back and his hold losenes long enough for you to slip out and run, though not fast enough because you hear him yell,"You bitch!", before his hand comes at you, catching a fistful of your hear and pulling you back into him. You cry out in pain, trying desperately to think of anyway to run from him.

You hear an angry growl before his hold suddenly leaves from your hair. You turn back around to see him falling to the ground and Azriel standing between you both. He looks up at him, hand wiping blood that falls from his nose from your jab.

You stayed back and let Azriel beat the living out of him before someone saw the three of you and stopped him, leaving the male too hurt to even get up. The two of you had been ordered to stay outside of Devlon's office while he introgated the male.

You both didn't talk at all, him being too mad to say anything except for him asking you in a small whisper,"Are you alright?" You couldn't reply to him because Devlon finally called you in.

The two of you were alone in his office when you entered. Your eyes immediately going to a wooden carved bears, sitting at Devlon's desk. The bigger one looking down at the smaller one that's barely reaching it's leg. Clearly a parent and a cub. Your heart jumps at the figure, "Look how cute that is." You whisper fondly to Azriel and he hums, observing it.

The door of his office slams open, and the Lord of the camp walks in. Even his heavy steps screams anger. "What am I to do with you." His glare deathly at you both, if looks could kill, you'd both be burried by now.

Gods, you were so fucked.

-☆-

After an hour of lecture and and tons of punishment chores, given to you both, you go to your small room in the female housing cabin and Azriel to Rhysand's cabin. The two of you didnt talk at all after getting out of the office so you worry yourself through the day, not having to talk to Azriel after today is killing you.

When you hear your window rattle and Azriel steps through, you sigh in relief. "Hello, Love." He whispers in the darkness, pulls you in thightly against his chest and you both sigh in each other's comforting arms.

When you try to run your hands down his back, careful of his wings, you freeze when he sucks in a sharp breath. You pull back, frowning at his face. His grimace making you panic. You don't say anything as you gently move around him, standing at his back. You bunch the ends his thin shirt in your hands and pull up slowly in case he stops you, you pull up the shirt all the way back, resting it on his wings and move him under the fea light to see clearly.

You gasp, seeing angry red straches that thankfully seem to have stopped bleeding, the marks are so big and deep that can only be caused by whips. The dried blood around his entire back making your stomach curl. Your eyes fill with tears and he turns around, now facing you.

"I'm alright, my love. Don't worry." His hands cup your cheeks. You look into his eyes, yours filled with anger at his punishment and the people who caused it. You promise yourself to take revenge for the harm they caused your lover.

"I love you." He kisses your forehead. "I love you too." You finally whisper back, kissing your lips to his, full of passion and love, saying everything you want to but can't right now, knowing full well anyone to hear.

When you pull back, you sigh and pull him to your excuse of a bed, pulling out from under the pillow the steal you committed, result of anger mixed with quick decision making. You turn to him with a smirk and give it to him while he gaps at you and the figure of the bear and it's cub.

"Did you just steal that?" He asks in the lowest voice he can master, shock written all over his face.

"Of course, there's no way I'd be able to afford it." You shrug, "And I wanted it. Figured he owed us at least that much after the scolding and now your leashing."

He kisses you again, trying to stop the laughter threatening to come out of his throat, resting his head on your shoulder, he hugs you and whispers, more to himself than you.

"My crazy girl."

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#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fluff #azriel x yn

[torscrawls]

Pressurized

Happy Holiday Truce @ectospacecadet! This is my gift for you, based on the prompt “Sometimes all it takes is one bad day to break someone: Danny snaps.” Hope it tastes good!

You can also read it on AO3.

-

“Fenton! Get up that rope!”

Danny clutched his aching left arm tight to his side, cursing Skulker and his attack early this morning as he moved to do as Ms. Tetslaff had ordered. The wound throbbed and radiated pain up his whole arm as he grabbed the rope and started to haul himself up.

“Ha! Fenturd is too much of a wimp to get up that rope!” Dash laughed and was soon joined by the rest of the A-listers.

Danny grit his teeth and reminded himself that what Dash and the rest thought about him really didn’t matter in the big picture. He had more important things to worry about. Like how to keep his wound from opening back up while making it to the top of the rope. Maybe he could use a touch of flight to—

Suddenly the whole rope heaved beneath him, writhing like a snake come alive, and Danny lost his grip. Thankfully the fall wasn’t long, but it still hurt when he landed—of course—on his wounded left arm.

Danny groaned from where he lay on the mat and as soon as he opened his eyes he got a face full of a grinning Dash, leaning over him and looking proud of himself. He still held the rope Danny had been climbing in one hand. Of course he had been the one to mess with him. Danny couldn’t even find it in himself to be surprised.

Danny turned his head to his side and saw Tetslaff on the other side of the room, not looking. Of course.

Dash laughed. “Wow, I didn’t know Fentoe was so weak he couldn’t even hold on to a rope!”

Danny reminded himself that Dash didn’t matter and that he didn’t care about what they thought, that he didn’t care about any of this. He didn’t.

Danny got to his feet, keeping his left arm close to his side. He felt a slow trickling of warmth run down the inside of his arm and really hoped his wound hadn’t opened back up. It would be just his luck.

Tucker jogged up next to him and sent him a concerned look. “Hey, you okay man?”

Danny took a deep breath, relaxed his clenched hands and let it out slowly before looking at Tucker and giving him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Considering Tucker’s grimace, he guessed he didn’t manage it, but his friend thankfully didn’t push the issue. And he was fine, this didn’t matter. It was just a slight annoyance. He would fix the wound after gym was over and then it would all be fine.

They were interrupted by Tetslaff suddenly deigning to look over towards them now that Dash had started climbing his own rope to the cheers of his friends. She frowned and immediately screamed, “Fenton! Foley! If you have time to just stand around talking, then you have time to run twenty laps! Get going!”

So Danny pushed down his pain and started running, Tucker by his side.

—-

After gym was over he waited until everyone else had finished changing out of their gym clothes before doing it himself, ignoring Dash and his lackeys continuous jabs and insults.

He didn’t feel like explaining his wound—which he was now certain he had reopened as the warm wetness on the inside of his arm hadn’t stopped and only gotten worse as time went on—and his extensive bruising. It would just raise a lot of questions. And probably even more insults, and even if Dash and the rest didn’t matter, Danny was too tired to deal with it right now.

He had to convince Tucker to go on ahead without him, “There’s no reason why we both have to be late. Besides, I don’t want them to start bullying you too.”

Apparently that hadn’t been as convincing as Danny had thought, but in the end he had managed to convince Tucker anyway and that was all that mattered.

As soon as the door closed and Danny was alone he let out a long sigh as his shoulders slumped. He rolled up the sleeve of his left arm with a grimace and then let out another sigh at the sight. Oh, he would definitely be late for the next class. He dug out his beat up first aid kit from the bottom of his bag and got to work.

Ten minutes later Danny carefully eased the door to the classroom open and quickly slunk inside. His hopes of sneaking inside unnoticed were dashed as Mr. Lancer fixed him with a glare and didn’t waste any time before chewing him out in front of the whole class. He could see Dash grinning and elbowing Kwan, Paulina leaning in to whisper to Star as they both pointed at him, Mikey and Nathan looking annoyed at the interruption and aiming their glares at Danny. Danny felt his shoulders climb up towards his ears. Great.

The whole spiel ended with Lancer declaring that he had detention after school and Danny barely found it in himself to give the teacher an affirmative before making his way to his school desk.

Well, no matter. Danny had only planned to get his homework done as soon as he got home, do his chores, and maybe actually go to bed early tonight. Maybe sleep off some of the exhaustion and pain dragging him down. Guess that wouldn’t happen. He didn’t know why he even tried anymore.

He sank down in his chair and Tucker immediately leaned in towards him and hissed out, “Man, your eyes are glowing.”

Danny closed his eyes in defeat. He tried to calm himself down, taking slow breaths and consciously relaxing his shoulders. The last thing he needed right now was any more attention.

After a few tense seconds he turned back to Tucker, one eyebrow raised in question.

Tucker gave him a slightly uncertain thumbs-up.

Danny felt himself relax slightly. Crisis averted, for now.

He just had to get through today.

Just like always.

—-

When he, Sam, and Tucker stepped into the cafeteria it was already full of students and Danny’s head throbbed at the noise. He really wished he had been able to grab more than a few minutes of sleep in between ghost fights, trying to avoid his parents, and all the traps they had set in the house.

Sam and Tucker walked towards the line for food and Danny stumbled after them. Tucker put a careful hand on Danny’s arm and Danny did his best not to jerk away from the pressure it put on his wound. Tucker still dropped his hand, a worried expression on his face, “Hey, man, you sure you’re alright?”

Danny nodded groggily, trying to muster up a smile. “I just didn’t get any sleep last night.”

Which wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth. He hadn’t gotten any sleep, but he had also been in two fights and one hunt spearheaded by his parents. Then his home had decided he was a threat and attacked him as well. And, oh right; he got woken up by an alarm in the middle of the night because the portal almost blew up because of some new tests his parents were doing. He didn’t even have time to eat breakfast. He looked down at the slop the lunch lady splattered across his plate and it was a testament to just how hungry he was that it actually looked appetizing.

He was doing great.

Thankfully, Sam and Tucker didn’t push it as they walked towards a free table. Danny did his best to follow along in their conversation, but he was too tired to make sense of their discussion about the math homework they had just gotten. Was it futile to hope that he would have enough energy and time to do it later tonight? Probably. Danny wished he had the capacity to feel bad about it.

He looked down at the food in his hands and allowed his thoughts to drift as he followed Sam and Tucker and their familiar voices. At least he would be able to sit down for a while with his friends and just breathe. And eat. Ancients, he was starving.

So of course that was when a foot suddenly appeared in front of his feet and despite his usually quick reflexes his tired brain reacted too late and he tripped, losing his hold on his tray and watching as it spilled absolutely everywhere. He had to use both his hands to catch himself against the floor to avoid smacking his head into it and groaned at the pain radiating up his left arm. Maybe the face would have been preferable to this.

He didn’t have time to get back up before Dash’s laughter rang in his ears.

Of course it was him.

“What’s this?! You can’t even walk correctly, Fentrip?!”

Danny pushed himself up on shaking arms and kept his eyes locked on the floor, ignoring the giggling he could hear from all around him. It was fine. Dash didn’t matter. This didn’t matter.

He blinked when a hand with back nails came into view before carefully grabbing his shoulders and helping him back up. Danny looked up to find Sam frowning at him. “Why do you let him push you around like this?”

Danny blinked at her. Yeah, why did he? His arm ached and he was so tired. If he just fought back once then Dash would know that he couldn’t just do whatever he wanted to him, they would all see just how—

Danny shrugged as he pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t afford to think like that. He couldn't risk turning into him. Danny feigned nonchalance as he said, “He doesn’t matter.”

Sam frowned at him.

Danny shrugged her hand off.

“Ha! You need your little freak girlfriend to protect you, Whimpton?!”

Danny felt himself tense up. They could pick on him all they wanted, but he hated it when they picked on his friends. They didn’t deserve that. He felt the tension rush back, ensnare itself through his shoulders and his arms until he couldn’t help but ball up his fists.

Sam raised a hand again as if to touch him, but let it drop again without making contact. “…Danny?”

“Dude,” Tucker joined in, voice strained and eyes glancing around them, “calm down.”

“I am calm!” Danny gritted out.

Sam raised an unimpressed eyebrow and Danny forced his hands to relax. He bent down to pick up his spilled food.

“Come on,” said Sam, “let’s go eat.”

They walked away from the laughing table full of A-listers.

Danny looked down at his ruined lunch and couldn’t help but let out a petulant, “I’m not hungry.” If he said it, then maybe it would make it true. Where was Desiree when you needed her?

Both Tucker and Sam sent him pointed looks and Tucker said, “I know that’s a lie. I could hear your stomach rumbling the whole class.”

Danny felt embarrassed that he had been found out; he didn’t like to make his friends worry about him.

Tucker just smiled. “Come on, you can have some of mine. I have a couple of snacks in my bag. Besides, I ate a really big breakfast so I’m not that hungry.”

Sam didn’t say anything, just silently handed Danny an apple from her tray.

How had Danny been blessed with such nice friends?

Danny sank down on the bench to finally eat with his friends, but the moment his arms touched the table he felt a familiar feeling of cold claw itself up his throat. The taste of ozone and ectoplasm burst forth from his mouth and he looked at the small cloud in dismay. Danny groaned. “I have to go. There’s a ghost. Again.”

Sam and Tucker exchanged a look and Danny tensed up. He didn’t have the energy to argue with them right now.

Tucker began hesitantly, “Maybe you should leave it to someone else?”

“I can’t. You know that.”

Sam crossed her arms. “Then we’ll come with you.”

Danny looked at his two friends and their full trays of food, which they hadn’t had time to touch. He didn’t want to drag them down with him, he owed them that. So Danny made an effort to sound snappish as he said, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Tucker held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Hey man, we didn’t say that. We’re just worried about you.”

And now he had made his friends worry about him. Great. He couldn’t do anything right, could he?

He got to his feet. “I have to go.”

“Danny, wait!” Sam called out, but before they could start arguing with him again, he left.

——

Thankfully the fight didn’t take long, and Danny closed the thermos on the tiger-ghost just as the bell rang. It did leave him with scratch marks down his back though, and Danny cringed as he changed back into human form; praying that his quick healing would make sure it didn’t bleed through his clothes and thankful for the thick hoodie he had put on that day. He ran to his locker and got out his things, but was still late for the next class.

Lancer merely shook his head at him and Danny stumbled over to his desk and sank down in it while ignoring the worried looks from Sam and Tucker.

He was fine. It was all fine.

And even if it weren’t; it didn’t matter. He just needed to keep it together and do his job, keep everyone safe.

—-

The bell finally rang and Danny let out a stuttering breath. He was free.

He didn’t waste any time before stuffing all of his things into his bag and getting up, ignoring the pain in his arm and his back as he shouldered his backpack. It was worth it if he could get out of there quicker. Sam and Tucker joined him as he made for the door.

Tucker lowered his voice as he looked Danny over and carefully asked, “Danny? You okay?”

Danny kept his eyes on the door, feeling his steps lighten as he passed through it. “I’m fine.”

Sam pursed her lips and asked, “…Who was it?”

“A tiger ghost.”

He knew that they wanted more information than that, but he just wanted to go home and crash. He was so very tired and he hurt.

Tucker huffed. “Maybe you should leave the hunting to your parents for tod—”

“Mr. Fenton! Get back here, now!” Lancer’s call interrupted Tucker and made dread pool in Danny’s stomach. Right. Detention.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. He’s fine.

Danny sucked in a shaking breath and stopped walking. He didn’t look at his friends as he said, “Well, see you guys tomorrow.”

Tucker let out a long sigh and sounded defeated as he said, “Please be care—”

Danny nodded and took a step towards the classroom and then he felt something collide with his back. Hard.

Immediately he was back fighting the tiger, its swiping claws on his back right in the same spot. The pain was immediate and intense, and Danny saw stars as he stumbled forward, falling to his knees.

His mind reeled. Was he still fighting? He wasn’t even transformed! He had to defend everyone!

He reached for the cold feeling in his chest, ready to tug on it and go ghost to—

Cheers erupted around him.

“Touchdown!” Dash crowed from above and Danny froze in place.

Right. He was in school. There was no ghost to fight. It was the A-listers. They didn’t matter.

For the third time that day he picked himself up off the floor.

His arm and back burned. The pain pulsed in time with his thrumming core.

Ghosts fought during stressful situations and right now his instincts were screaming at him to fight. To get them before they got him. Danny balled his hands into shaking fists.

He tried to force his heart and his core to slow down. It didn't work.

A part of him slipped, too tired to fight it anymore. They wanted a fight, right? Then he would give them one.

But then he registered movement beside him and he blinked. Right. Sam and Tucker were here, which meant that he couldn't fight right now. Not with them so close. He couldn't risk it. Risk them.

Danny pressed everything down down down.

Or, he tried to.

His breath clouded in front of his face, but it wasn't because of a ghost, but because of the sudden cold blanketing the hallway.

“…Danny?” Tucker said hesitantly from beside him. “Dude, calm down.”

“I am fucking calm!” Danny growled.

Sam looked at him with clear worry in her eyes. She leaned in and whispered, “Your eyes are glowing again.”

Danny covered his eyes with his hands. He tried to force them to return to normal, to force himself to calm down. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, he repeated in his mind.

Danny heaved in deep breaths.

“Ha!” Laughed Dash, “Are you going to cry?!”

Danny sucked in breath after breath. It didn’t matter.

He tried to force the tension down. Tried to stuff it all down. Down where it couldn’t hurt anyone.

It doesn’t matter.

He gritted his teeth.

It shouldn’t matter.

He was fine. They didn’t matter. He was fine.

…He didn’t feel fine. He ached and was so very tired. He hurt.

His arms fell down to his lap and before he could do more than open his eyes, Tucker was standing in front of him, shielding him from view and hissing out, “Your eyes, man!”

And Danny tried. He really did, tried to make them go back to normal, to look normal. So he wouldn’t upset anyone. So no one would notice. So he wouldn’t matter. Danny grabbed his hair in his shaking hands, winced at the pain radiating up his arm.

“What’s wrong with the freak?” Dash asked and before Danny could react there was a hand reaching for him. His mind screamed at him to get away, to make it all just stop.

“Man, don’t!” Tucker shouted out in warning and then Danny watched with wide eyes as his friend was showed aside by Kwan, making him stumble to the side.

Sam stepped in front of Danny and then got pushed into the wall by Dash as they all laughed.

Danny’s eyes jumped from the wince on Tucker’s face to the angry scowl on Sam’s. To the way she pushed away from the wall and grabbed her left shoulder that had collided with it, on how Tucker wasn’t able to hide the fear in his eyes as he looked at the people who had attacked him.

They had attacked his friends. Because of him. Danny had put them in danger.

After everything that had happened, after all the pain and exhaustion, he couldn’t even keep them safe. His core screamed.

Danny felt himself fracture, crack like a thin layer of ice beneath a boot.

Dash’s hand moved as if in slow-motion as it approached him and Danny viciously slapped it away. “Don’t touch me. And don’t. Touch. Them.”

Dash cradled his hand in stunned silence for a split second before he broke out into laughter again, elbowing Kwan in the side as he said, “Wow, would you look at that? The wimp is fighting back!”

Laughter.

Danny’s ears roared and his chest stuttered as he tried to get enough air into his lungs; to calm down. His eyesight narrowed into a thin point as he raised his shaking hands to grip the front of his shirt. There was a pressure on his chest. On his core. Building and building and building.

“Stop,” he managed to croak out. He didn’t know if it was a warning or a plea. His instincts were screaming, clamoring, demanding, that he fight.

“What are you going to do about it?! Cry on us?”

A rough hand crabbed Danny’s shoulder and his own hand snapped up to grab it as he hissed out, “You don’t matter! You’re fucking nothing!” None of them did. So what did it matter what he did to them?

“Danny!” Sam yelled out in warning. But she was still gripping her arm where she had collided with the wall and that as all he could see.

Danny managed to let go of the hand in his grip, but he couldn’t calm down.

Maybe he didn’t want to.

“Hey…” Dash trailed off. “What’s wrong with his eyes?”

Tucker took a step closer to Danny. “Danny, you have to calm down!”

“Why?!” Why did he always have to calm down?!

He hurt.

“Danny!” He couldn’t even tell who was speaking anymore. It didn’t matter.

The air was cold enough to sting his throat and he breathed it in in in in.

He couldn't breathe out. He couldn't—

“What the fuck?!”

“Shit!”

“Get back!”

He smelled ectoplasm. The cold snow.

He smelled sour mouthwatering fear.

Danny recoiled with nausea climbing up his throat. He shouldn’t like that. He shouldn’t be that ghostly. He had to control himself. Just get himself back under control and calm down and—

And he couldn't. He couldn't.

His heaving breaths stopped when he realized that he didn’t need them.

In the end, he was just like any other ghost wasn't he?

The cold spread through him, out of him, and Danny didn’t even try to stop it.

They didn’t matter.

And he h̵̪̗͊u̴̯͒r̴͍͈̈̇t̸̮̺͈́.

#danny phantom #dp fic #danny phantom fic #all of your prompts were so good!! #phandom truce 2023 #i started writing something for all of them but then i had to contain myself #happy holidays! #my writing

[m-y-fandoms]

Commission: Nagito Komaeda and Kokichi Ouma - Kissing/Makeout Headcanons + First Kiss Drabble

Fic premise assumes you are the S/O (established relationship or crush) and WANT to be kissed by them, keep this in mind.

Word count: 2.6k words

Nagito Komaeda

Nagito is very ill (obviously) both mentally and physically. With this in mind and just seeing how he acts in-game, I have always retained the idea that he has different sides of himself. I think a lot of the time, the illness gets to his head.

Which Nagito you get can change day by day depending on his mood, his goals, or his current mental state, as we see in-game. Think of how he acts in the beginning of Chapter 1 versus say Chapter 5.

There was a very smug, passive-aggressive (and sometimes just plain aggressive), and sharp-witted Nagito…

Or the giggling, self-hating, hope-gasming mess of a man Nagito.

As his S/O, you got both sides, and both sides would serve you in his own way. He would always strive to please you, even if his methods and words sometimes weren’t the best.

After all, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if he didn’t see you as a beacon of hope. You were worthy in every way to him, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve you.

Early into your relationship, Nagito would be very needy, in disbelief that someone like him could have someone like you. He’d be touch-starved, nearly worshiping your body as you made out.

His hands would shake as he ran them up and down your sides while you kissed, clawing at your scalp, desperate to pull you in as if he’d lose you if he didn’t.

He’d be out of breath, ragged, not wanting to separate from you. He wouldn’t believe you would want to be near him, much less lock lips with him. He would savor every second, heart beating wildly in his chest. He would feel like he could pass out at any second.

As your relationship progressed and you two got more comfortable being romantic and vulnerable around each other, he would become more confident and initiate the connections between you two more often.

There would still be times where he acted a bit strange or timid, even in your trusted presence, but now making out with you was something he wanted to enjoy regularly, craved and needed, rather than an occurrence he thought would never happen to him in a million years.

He warms up to you like an engine, going from clinging to you and asking between kisses why you have feelings for a mess like him, to leaving you speechless and breathless as he pushes you up against the wall of your private cottage. He’d cage you in with his arms on either side of you, wanting you only to himself, biting at your bottom lip.

He’d become greedy with your touch and time, dragging you away from the group to make out in your room and tell you how you drive him wild.

The First Kiss

You sat on the floor of Nagito’s cabin with him like you did pretty much every night, cross-legged and hiding a hand of cards from him so he couldn’t cheat. He won nearly every time anyway, so he didn’t need that extra advantage. You enjoyed whisking him away for alone time like this. You found that many of your classmates either didn’t like Nagito or didn’t understand him. Most found him odd, even those who called him a friend. He never saw their judgements or little jabs as hurtful because he thought he deserved it. It made you really enjoy the time spent between only the two of you, because there was no judgement toward him, no stress. You could just be yourselves. He could even tell you about his ideals and plans for hope for the world all he wanted without being side-eyed. You often talked for hours as you played video games you borrowed from Chiaki and ate snacks. 

Everyone knew you two were a thing, a close friendship that had blossomed into a mutual crush. You were rarely seen without the other, and in fact most had an inkling that if Nagito wasn’t with you, he was up to something. 

You had a lot of fun with him, despite his constant questioning of your feelings for him: asking why you’d want to even be around someone like him, assuring you that he knew he could be a bother. He felt like he was a waste of your time, and you were slowly getting him out of the habit of feeling that way.

Now into early hours of the morning, everyone else was fast asleep for the night. Nagito walked you back to your cabin in the dark of the humid night, lit only by small lanterns adorning the cottage walls. This was your routine. Once in a while you fell asleep in his bed while he slept on the floor with a single blanket and pillow but him walking you back to your room before then was the norm. He’d casually wrap his coat around your shoulders on the rare occasion it was chilly, sometimes risk awkwardly reaching for your hand. He’d never been forward with you thus far, making it clear that while he wanted more, he didn’t feel like he deserved it. He wasn’t the best choice for you. He was meant to support you, to bolster your hope, not be a romantic equal. Tonight, it felt a little different, though. You wanted your relationship to move to the next level. You were going crazy, left with only the gentle embraces or leaning against him on his bed to satisfy you until your next fix. You needed more.

“Well… goodnight (Y/N),” Nagito flashed you a sideways grin, hesitating as if something were on his mind before turning to return to his cabin alone. You’d met his eyes and he looked away, already beginning his trek back. You reached out, grasping the tips of his fingers then securely moving your way up his arm to halt him.

“Nagito, wait…” He snapped his ghostly white face back to you immediately, expectantly almost…

“Yeah?” You swallowed nervously, losing the confidence and adrenaline rush when his eyes searched yours. He had a way of making butterflies appear in your stomach. He was just… so pretty, especially in the low lighting, especially with your nerves on fire. “What is it, (Y/N)...?” He stepped closer when the silence lingered.

“I, well… don’t go, yet…” You struggled to find the words. You couldn’t just ask straight out, right?

“Okay… I’ll stay. Is something wrong?” He hadn’t known you to ever be nervous or at a loss of words around him. That was everyone else’s job.

“Well, I want to… well…” he stepped a bit closer and your heart rate picked up. “Is it okay if maybe, I kiss you?” He felt his heart sink. His eyes went wide, pupils blown out in disbelief, but yet he stepped closer, as if his body and mind were at opposition.

“What? You want to kiss someone like me? Why would you-”

“If you don’t want to, please, it’s okay. Seriously, we don’t have to-.” You started back tracking immediately, thinking maybe you’d gone too far. 

“Well of course I want to, but… I mean someone like me would only soil you. Can you imagine my filthy lips on y-”

“I do imagine your lips… a lot.” You spoke barely above a whisper, and he moved closer once more, until your chest lightly bumped against his.

“Really? Wow, I can’t imagine such a shining beacon of hope such as yourself wanting anything to do with me…” His eyes darted between yours and your bottom lip, feeling the stirrings of desire in the pit of his stomach.

“You say that a lot, you know… I wish you wouldn’t.” You tilted your head slightly, leaning in gently, extending your neck just barely.

“Are you sure about this?” His voice took on a slightly husky tone, and he didn’t stop you when your lips bumped against his, so reluctantly, so jittery. When he didn’t pull away, you pressed a little harder.

Almost like his cautious and unsure mood from just before was a merely a farce, he tilted his head to match, and his lips melted into yours like they were meant to fit together. Touch-starved and needy, he brought two shaky hands up to clutch onto your shoulders, as if you’d blow away with the wind if he didn’t. Allowing you very little time or room to breathe, his tongue found its way past your lips and brushed against yours. He felt you return the gesture with even more enthusiasm, and you heard as much as felt him moan into your mouth. The rumble in his chest sent sparks to your brain. He moved one hand around your waist, the other grabbing the back of your neck desperately, pulling you further in when you couldn’t physically be any closer. He was frantic, needing more and more of you. His mind was racing with so many thoughts at once.

Needing air urgently, you pulled away and found him hesitant to let go. So you didn’t. Not wanting to part from him either, you rested your forehead against his, bringing your hands up to run through his cloud of messy white locks.

Kokichi Ouma

Kokichi is not shy.

He is bold, teasing, and very loud about his feelngs for you.

Because while he loved to lie, your flustered reactions to his affections were so much more rewarding.

When it came to kissing, well there was no better way to rile you up and get that reaction he was looking for.

He loves PDA.

Kissing you in public was not only a way to mess with you, but to show the world you belonged to him.

He would do drive by kisses, running up to you for a peck then scampering off before you had a moment to process.

He would make bets, games, dares where you had to kiss him if you lost.

Kokichi was not nice.

When he made out with you in the privacy of your own dorm rooms, he was rough and unforgiving. He liked your little yips and gasps of surprise.

He would nibble at your jaw…

Bite your bottom lip a little too hard and lick up the bead of blood that spilled out…

Wrap one hand around your throat to keep you in place…

Sometimes he would tease you, hovering his lips over yours until you were nearly begging him to just kiss you already.

Your embarrassment was super cute to him.

When he was really into it, sometimes he’d pull at your hair or grab your backside, and when your lips parted to gasp, shoved his tongue in, an opportunist.

The First Kiss

You were traipsing about with Kokichi, investigating the newly unlocked areas of the academy. Exploring the vast and mysterious campus was daunting alone, but super fun with Kokichi by your side. You bounced between recently opened labs while Kokichi bothered their owners.

After a while, as the day was winding down and you’d begun to run low on energy, you sat with Kokichi on the top step of the flight of stairs just down the hall from Kiyo’s lab. The atmosphere was dark and gloomy, like the set of a horror film. You’d never have come up to this floor alone. You wondered why such a cheery girl like Angie had her lab - used to create beautiful art - on such a spooky floor. Kokichi, of course, had been messing with you the whole time, claiming he’d seen a dark shadow down the hall or that he swore he heard Kiyo hatching an evil plan in his lab earlier. You’d punched his shoulder, begging him to cut it out before you ran back to your dorm and left him behind. Looking down the creaky steps, you spoke a warning to him:

“Kokichi, I’m serious! You know this place freaks me out already. I don’t need you adding to i- mmph!” Your words were cut off, muffled into an awkward noise when Kokichi’s lips crashed onto yours. Your eyes widened in shock, but his were closed as he kissed you and pulled back just as fast. He leaned back on his hands, smirking mischeviously at you.

“W-what was that for?!” You sputtered, feeling your pulse throb in your chest.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Kokichi feigned innocence, his mouth agape in a childish look of guilt.

“You kissed me???” Your brows furrowed suspiciously.

“Well, I like you!” He grinned genuinely. “I know you like me too~! I heard you talking to Saihara about it the other day!” You were shocked at his apparent spying on you and would address it later, but he was right. You did have a crush on Kokichi, and you’d spoken to your close friend Shuichi about it at length, but you’d never have told Kokichi himself. You expected a swift and humiliating rejection if you did. You liked Kokichi a lot actually, but thought that to him, you were nothing more than a plaything, a way to avoid boredom because you tolerated him unlike most of your peers. A friend at most. 

Your mind was racing, wondering how he could confess his feelings for you so bluntly, so plainly… Wasn’t he nervous at all? Was this a lie? Who can state that they like someone as more than a friend so casually?

But then you remembered that this was Kokichi. He wasn’t like other people. He was unique, for sure. You’d never met anyone like him.

“If you knew, why didn’t you tell me before?” You questioned, disbelief in your voice. He really was something else. “Ahhh!” You cried out as you were pushed backwards suddenly, now laying flat on the floor against the landing of the stairs. Kokichi jumped astride you, ignoring your question and straddling your waist. With a devilish grin he looked at you, pinned down below him. “Kokichi!” You squealed, not able to do much else. Your limbs felt like jelly and you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Awww I love that embarrassed expression on you~! You know, (Y/N)... you’re kinda cute this way.” He leaned down, letting the tip of his nose wiggle against yours. “You want more?” He mused, his tone low and impish. Turning your head away from him shyly, you paused, thinking about if you should humiliate yourself by playing along first, before nodding in response.

“Then beg for it…” he frowned down at you, deadly serious and commanding an intimidating presence.

“Stop it, Kokichi! You’re being cruel…” You threw an arm over your eyes, obscuring him from view, wishing you could just disappear at this very moment. You couldn’t take the teasing anymore. You were used to it from him, but not in this way. Never in this way.

“Come on now… if you act like that, I won’t kiss you ever again!” He crinkled his nose and furrowed his brow in disapproval. Your ears perked up at that, and you acted on instinct, reaching up and grabbing his checkered bandana in a vice-like grip. His mouth fell agape just a little, brows raising. “Oh, so that’s how it is~” he snickered. 

He knew he had you in his trap, just where he wanted you. You tugged on the bandana, and he let you, bringing his lips down to hover right above yours. You closed your eyes expectantly, waiting for a kiss that never came. After a second, you felt the weight of his body lift off of you, and your eyes fluttered open in disappointment.

“Kokichi?” You sat up to see him already a few steps ahead of you, ready to make a break for it.

“Tell you what… if you can catch me, I’ll take you back to your room and kiss you all you want~!” He gestured flippantly to you, waving his hand, and took off at the speed of light.

#kokichi oma #kokichi x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda #first kiss #y/n #reader insert #x reader #commission #writing commissions #fanfiction commission #fanfiction #fluff #sfw #oneshot #drabble #scenarios #danganronpa fandom #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa 2 #sdr2 goodbye despair #danganronpa thh #trigger happy havoc #v3 killing harmony #danganronpa v3 #imagines #headcanon #friends to lovers #danganronpa #gender neutral reader

[everythingbutdragons]

What if Donnie hurt you-

You were furious. And heart broken.

Pacing in your room as tears streamed down your cheeks you growled, a sound people had teased you about when you were younger- but you prefered making the noise in place of hurting yourself.

Shaking your hands out you finally paused in front of your bed before curling up and laying down on it. You were a mass of pillows and blankets by the time you were done, small sniffles the only sound in the room. The reason you were so upset was because of Donnie. He had pushed you away- saying that he didnt want you around anymore. You were too much of a distraction. He had yelled in your face. It was right after Raph had passed away.

*

*

"Donnie?" You knocked on the thick doors to his lab, peeking your head around the corner to see him hunched over his desk. He seemed to be muttering to himself before coming to a conclusion he clearly didnt like. Slamming his fist down on his desk he stood up abruptly before throwing the various blueprints and small trinkets from his desk to slam into the wall. You jumped from the sound.

Threatening clicking emitted from him as he seethed, still looming over his desk. You shuffled closer, coming closer till you stood about 5 feet away from him. "Donnie...?"

"Get out," he hissed, still not looking at you.

"Donnie come on. I want to help you- lets just take a break-" you reached for his arm only to have him slap it away from him before he was in your face. His piercing amber eyes stabbed into yours, pinning you to where you stood.

"I said. Get. Out. You and your breaks are always there, an obstical in front of whatever im trying to finish. You are a distraction. I cant have any distractions. This resistance is too valuable," he jabbed a finger into your chest, baring his teeth. "I shouldnt have taken that break with you before the mission. I could have triple checked everything. Maybe-maybe i could have prepared better! Maybe he would still be alive!" At this point you were in tears, cowering as he shouted in your face.

"I said get out! I dont need you!"

*

*

You heard the creak of the door to your room followed by heavy footsteps. You tensed but didnt move from your hiding spot. All anger was now replaced by fear. Had he come to yell at you again? Was he going to hit you again?

You whimpered when you saw his legs stop infront of your bed, hiding futher under the covers. All of a sudden you felt youself being picked up, an arm scooping you and holding you into his chest. Donnie pressed his snout into your hair, cooing at you as he sat on your bed. Immediately breaking down into tears once more you buried your face in his chest.

"I'm sorry... I know, I'm so sorry, love... you didnt deserve that," he whispered, pressing kisses to your temple. "Shh.. I'm here baby..."

You sniffled, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. "B-but you s-said you didnt need me anymore... y-you hit me.."

You felt Donnie freeze, his breath stopping for a moment. It was then you registered that he was crying to. And despite what he'd done and how anyone else would be very mad, you knew he'd already get his ass handed to him by his brothers, and you couldnt be mad. He probably was already hating himself in his head right now.

"Hey," you cupped his cheeks and tried to turn his head so he'd look at you. When he still didnt meet your eyes you continued anyway.

"Hey, i forgive you. You were grieving Donnie- heck, you still are- it can make people do bad things. That doesnt make you bad. And i still love you." You kissed his forehead and after you pulled away he was finally looking at you. "It's not okay yet. You will have to make it up to me with many cuddles and BREAKS so your mental health doesnt get worse on me. But i do forgive you."

Donnie and you sniffled at the same time, earning you his wonderful laugh. He squeezed you tighter in his arms. "I'm so lucky to have you love..."

"Yes, yes you are. We need to work on your emotional skills, mister."

"We can save that for a later date," he grinned at you, laying down and spooning you as he huffed into your hair. "Right now im in the mood for a break."

-

-

-

I was in an angsty mood okay-

Orginally I wanted an excuse to punch Donnie but then I just wanted to be held.

#rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt x reader #donnie x reader #rise donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt donnie #f!donnie #rottmnt future donnie #rise future donnie #future donatello #donatello hamato #rottmnt

[deviousdeliciousness]

Sweet Nothings

What can a giant's promises be but empty when they are given after having stolen the tiny away from her home?

~~~~~~~~~

"Shhhh, shhhh, you're alright," came the rumbling croon, a gentle yet still overwhelming pressure brushing softly against her fragile back.

She buried her face further into her knees, arms wrapped tight around her calves and fingers digging crescent's into the meat of her thighs. It did little to mitigate her trembling.

"I'll take care of you," the voice soothed, once more stroking along her shivering spine.

A single set of tears spilled past her cheeks, dampening the threadbare cloth of her pants. She desperately withheld a whimper, clamping her lips tight as her chin quivered and her throat strained.

Her attempts did not matter; her captor noticed anyway. "Don't cry," he whispered, cupping her further between his undeniably monstrously-sized palms.

She squeezed her eyes shut, huddling more tightly in on herself and flinching as the soft touch against her back returned.

"You'll be happier, with me," her kidnapper murmured, and she could not tell if the words were more for her or for himself. Either version would not make the supplication any less of a lie.

Her chest heaved and stuttered with her aborted breaths, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth to stave off the worst of it.

The giant shushed her again, oh-so-comfortingly, sweetly, promising, "I shall give you whatever your heart so desires." His fingertip brushed gently against the back of her delicate neck, and she flinched at the touch. The attempt to soothe felt like nothing but a threat, an emphasis on the disparity between their sizes. His promises were worth less than that. How could they be more when she knew them to be so bitterly, laughably, untrue? For she knew he would never free her, and that was the only wish her tremulous heart so covetously, now cruelly, desired.

"Nobody will ever hurt you again," he lovingly crooned, gently stroking her trembling sides with a finger as long as she was tall. It was a bastardization of comfort for her, an unwanted touch.

If only she was brave enough to answer his words. To reason that her life had not been made of just hurt, and even the hurt had been proof that she had been living - had been alive. What was human nature, but for a struggle in life to achieve their self-destined goals? And so she had struggled, perhaps more than most - certainly more than many - but it had not meant that she ever, ever wished to be taken away from it all. From her life, from her people, from her home.

If she had the courage, she would rise to her feet and glare up to her captor, this leviathan monster disguised as man. She would jab a finger up to him and shout and rage that he was hurting her, far deeper than most, as this pain went to her very soul instead of only skin deep.

What did it matter if he outwardly treated her gently - if even his capture of her had left her with nary a bruise - if his very actions in and of themselves rent her heart to shattered pieces.

It did not matter, and it never would. She would never trust this giant and his sweet nothings, his gentle touches, for he had made it clear from the very beginning that he saw her as something lesser than.

To him, she was nothing but a doll, one to be picked up - to be 'rescued' - from the dirt and carried away, heedless to her protests, to her autonomy or to her desires.

No, she would not fall for his sweet nothings, for his entreaties, for his meaningless platitudes. Not for this giant who had stolen her away from her life as if it had meant nothing. She could never forgive such an irreparable, callous cruelty.

And as she curled up tightly in his cupped palm, feeling his thunderous heartbeat through the bare soles of her dirt-stained feet... she dully wondered if her forgiveness would even mean anything to him at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

;( kjsjhf BIG sad, mah bad. Highkeeeey wanted to make it so the giant does have a legit reason? Or at least thought he did bc of some misunderstanding or smthn - but for now, here's some more unresolved angst! :D

but fr this was uhh a lil (a lot) depressing ngl, but uhhh ye hopefully you liked?? :DDDD *sweats*

#g/t #g/t community #giant tiny #giant/tiny #gt writing #g/t angst #unintentional fearplay #sweet nothing #tw kidnapping #g/t writing #depresso espresso #angst

[an0nymousmessenger]

Next Time We Meet

Synopsis: To go North or South? tags. fluff, angst, gn!reader Word Count: 1.9k Ao3 Link

“Yo.”

“Gah!”

Geto laughs, his voice deep and rich as he watches Gojo choke on air, “How rude, and right after seeing me.”

Gojo shoots Geto a look that says 'Really? This is how you greet me after so long?' and slumps back in the airport seat, spreading out without any regard for personal space. He frowns, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. "No way. Could things get any worse?"

You snort from the other side of where Gojo sits, legs crossed, supporting your face with your hand. "C'mon, is seeing your old friends again really that disappointing?"

Gojo flinched at your sudden voice, his laidback body language suddenly tense.

It was as if he couldn’t believe you were here. Whole and well.

You notice, and tilt your head while asking in a teasing voice, “Hm~? What’s wrong?”

However, he recovered quickly, answering only a beat late in his whiny voice that it was hard to wonder if it ever happened at all, “You don’t get it!”

“Does it matter anyway?” Geto asks.

Gojo complains, "I told one of my students that when you die, you die alone! Now I seem like a liar!"

You laugh at how despite waking up in another place with his old friends, the only thing on his mind at the moment was something he told his students in passing, and that his only concern was how it made him look bad.

At the sound of your laughter, Gojo finally turns his head to look at you. You were so busy laughing at Gojo’s suffering that you missed the way his blue pupils seemed to shake as he soaked in the sound of your laugh, and the subtle trembling of his lips so faint it was barely noticeable.

“You speak as if you aren’t one,” You manage between fits of laughter.

He crosses his arms and pouts. "I've told you before! I'm an honest man! Isn't that right, Suguru?" 

Geto, however, only shakes his head while laughing softly.

You smile, thinking to yourself that you really have missed this. It was nice. It was warm.

“And there's the matter of his father," Gojo continues, "but I've already asked Shoko to handle that."

"Poor Shoko, you make her go through too much," Your voice is full of sympathy for your mutual friend.

Gojo dismisses your concerns with a wave. "It's Shoko; she's strong."

Still, you wonder if she's okay.

"So, how was the King of Curses?" Geto inquires, hands in the pockets of his school uniform.

Gojo waves his hand, “Man, he was crazy strong! Plus, he didn’t even go all out.”

You saw, after all, you and everyone here was watching him.

“Stronger than you?” You ask, turning your head to look at him with your brows raised, wondering if fighting the king of curses was the solution to flattening his inflated ego.

Gojo became silent.

His face seems to suddenly fall, as if in deep contemplation.

You meant it as a joke, a jab at how in his youth, he only flaunted his power and never experienced loss. You didn't intend to upset him.

"Told you, it's because I'm the strongest."

You roll your eyes, feeling irritation rise as you retort, "Cheater."

He grins, adjusting his glasses while examining your battered state. His pristine school uniform remains untouched with not even a blade of grass. You on the other hand are covered in sweat and dirt.

"Am I?"

"The worst."

He feigns hurt, hand over his heart. "You wound me."

You vow never to spar with him again.

Before you can address your earlier remark, he answers in a soft, uncharacteristic tone: "If you and Suguru were there, I think I could've won."

You had forgotten, you think to yourself. Forgotten that at the end of the day, he was only one man. And that at one point he had only been a boy, a boy who had the world thrust upon him.

And so, with this in mind, you give him one of your best smiles, “We’re always cheering you on, Satoru.”

Gojo seemed to want to say something to you then, but then he seemingly decided against it. Instead, he points out, “I’m just glad I didn’t die of old age or illness, but rather because of someone strong.”

You don’t miss the way he started avoiding eye contact with you, nor the red creeping up his neck.

It was then that Nanami cuts in, “No one thinks like that. Nowadays that’s creepy.”

“Huh!?”

Gojo turns around to roughly ruffle Nanami’s hair, a scene that was a bit too nostalgic for your liking, but all the same, you couldn’t help but want the moment to last longer. Hearing Gojo whine as Nanami scolded him, but Geto smiling in the background and Haibara’s cheerful voice was something you didn’t think you would witness again. 

Just you guys, back in the prime of your youth laughing underneath the summer sun.

Just a little longer, you silently plead, just a little longer.

But time is short.

You listen silently as Nanami and Gojo’s conversation warps up, and it is only then that you decide to finally speak up.

“So, have you decided?”

Gojo turns to look at you, “What do you mean?”

You smile, “Your decision. To go north or to go south.”

He stares at you for a long time before finally breaking out into a grin, “What? Did you get sick of my presence already? I only just got here!”

Rolling your eyes as you fight back your amusement, you remind him, “You don’t have much time, you know? You in a place where you can still–”

"Yes, yes, I know," he interrupts with a pout.

You sometimes can't believe his audacity, wondering how you had managed it through Jujustu Tech. Here he was, acting upset when you're trying to save his life.

Bringing a hand up to your head, you sigh, feeling a type of headache that you only get when he is around coming up.

“Can’t I stay a little longer?” He asks, this time his voice betrays the feeling he had been hiding behind that carefully crafted mask of his. It sounded of longing, sprouted from the fear of losing everything he had again.

It was Geto who answered him this time, "It's your choice, Satoru," his voice gentle. "But I think we all knew the decision you'd make the moment you woke up here. In fact, you've already made up your mind, haven't you?"

Gojo fell silent because he knew Geto was right. Geto always understood him well.

It was because Gojo still had unfinished business.

He still needed to live.

You stood up and walked over to Gojo, offering him a hand. You knew he would stubbornly sit there until the last minute, and you'd had enough all-nighters to know that leaving things to the last second never worked out well.

He took your hand, and you pulled him to his feet.

“It’s not your time yet,” you say in a steady voice.

“At least tell me you are sad to see me go,” he grins, his opaque glasses blocking the top of his face, but you knew from the way he looked at you that the frown didn’t reach his eyes.

"We'll see each other again; waiting has never been an issue for me."

He rolled his eyes and frowned. "Is it really so hard to say you're going to miss me?"

You sighed. "Gojo—"

"Satoru."

"Satoru," you began again, giving him your famously tired look. But all he did was grin back. "I'll be looking forward to meeting you again, okay?"

He smiles a victorious kind of smile, as if him getting you to say you will miss him was a greater achievement than winning against the king of curses.

It was a kind of smile that told you that he’d steal this moment away for himself.

Selfish prick.

It was then that an announcement came on from seemly nowhere: We are now making boarding announcement for Flight 0010 to the final destination ‘—.’ Passengers are kindly requested to proceed to gate 06 for immediate boarding.

“I guess that’s your flight.” 

Your voice trembles.

A mishap in the wall that you built to suppress your emotions because without it you don’t think you could stand to watch him leave.

If that wall were to come crumbling down you think you would have clinged onto him, begging him to stay a little longer.

Gojo continues to look at you before seemly to make a final decision, “Hey, There’s something I–”

If this was the last time he'll see you again, to get to talk to you again then-

You shake your head, laughing silently to yourself as you start to push Gojo towards his gate.

“Hey- hey wait!”

You come to a sudden stop as Gojo stubbornly rooted himself to the tiled floor.

“Hurry. You will be late-”

Gojo grabs ahold of your hand, his black glasses falling to the tip of his nose, revealing his starking eyes. He stared at you, stared at you as he tried to tell you all the things he’d always been too much of a coward to say.

He wanted to tell you before it was too late like last time, something he has yet to forgive himself for.

“There’s something I haven’t told you yet. I need to tell you before I go-”

Stupid. Stupid white-haired man.

Your lips tremble as you look at his desperate face, his mask falling apart as well. But instead of clinging onto him like you so desperately want to, you smile.

"Tell me next time then."

Gojo stops stumbling over his words.

"I–"

Last call for Flight 0010–

"Go," you urge him.

Yet he still stands there stubbornly, refusing to leave.

Stupid Satoru.

What a greedy man, you think to yourself. The corners of your mouth curve upward as you stand on tiptoes and press a quick, soft kiss on his forehead.

"Go," you say again. "Tell me next time all the things you’ve yet to say to me, okay? Go and win for us...for me."

He brings a hand to the spot where you kissed him, a certain look crossing his face before finally saying the words you want to hear, "Okay, I will."

"Swear it."

"I swear on it."

And you believe him.

Because who are you to say otherwise in front of his grinning face? Who are you to think otherwise when he smiled so brightly? His eyes were bright and confident, softly grazed by his white hair as if he'd bring you the world if you asked.

Then he seemed to cast everyone one last glance before turning his feet to start running the other way towards his gate.

He doesn’t think he could stand to leave if he were to stop.

"Don't miss us too much!" Haibara calls out after him.

"Try not to die again," Nanami mutters.

"We'll still be here," Geto states.

“Don’t come back too soon! Okay!?” You shout to which he lifts an arm and waves, his neck a dark shade of red.

He laughs, “Just continue to cheer me on!”

You stand there, watching as the gate closes with Gojo behind it, listening to the loud hum of the air conditioning in the airport.

You'll wait, just like you've been doing. You'll wait as long as it takes for him.

a/n : I promise I'll write pure fluff next time ( maybe )

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru #fluff #gojo x reader #jujustu kaisen #airport #goodbye #forehead kisses

[fourstarsoutofnine]

To get away.

chapter two; Breathing out, and to the inn.

Warnings:purposeful cliffhanger ;P

You’d been walking for miles and miles, for hours on end, and you were starting to grow very weary because of it. There wasn’t a town in sight and the champion’s sheikah slate was doing nothing to help—seeing as this wasn’t his Hyrule. You’d all been trying to make your way to higher ground to get a good vantage point on the lay of the land, but it felt like if you took another ten steps, your legs would give out. Your pulse was higher than it usually was, and your chest burned from the heavy breathing.

“Yap city…” the veteran mumbled just low enough for you to not hear. The traveler, however, did hear and that earned the veteran an elbow to the side.

“Be nice. She’s struggling. Not everyone is as in shape as we are, we’ve spent our whole lives adventuring. It’s clear she hasn’t.” He whispered, sounding frustrated with the veteran and his untrusting jabs towards you.

The vet took a deep breath and sighed. Despite being deeply wary of you, he made his way over to walk beside you. “You good?”

You looked over, still huffing and puffing. You nodded, not trusting your lungs to push any more air out than necessary.

“You don’t seem it. Need a break?” He asked, even if he wanted to keep moving. As much as he didn’t trust you, the others wanted to help you and that more than outweighed his opinion.

You looked at Him for a few seconds before nodding and stopping. He called the others to a halt and you leaned against a tree, sinking down. The rancher brought you a canteen of water, which you graciously took and leaned your head against the tree after drinking some. You took a deep sigh and tried to regulate your breathing again.

“Boy, you really aren’t from here, are you?” The sailor looked at you with his head cocked to the side. You shook your head and huffed a tired laugh.

“That’s becoming far more apparent as the day goes on, isn’t it?” You joked dryly.

“Sure is… take your time though! We can wait.” The sailor sat beside you. You smiled softly, feeling a little less like a burden. If anything, this meant they could rest as well.

“The sailor’s right, we have time. There’s enough daylight left, and the rancher said his wolf found a town in the direction we’re traveling, so it shouldn’t be too long before we find it.” The old man said, bringing you even more peace. That peace left when you looked around at them and saw how annoyed the veteran looked. You quickly looked away.

The Vet, however, looked over at you when you averted your gaze. He sighed, giving you the ghost of a sympathetic look. As much as he didn’t trust you, he knew he couldn’t find it in himself to be rude to you—not directly, anyway. He watched the traveler walk up to you and kneel beside you, asking if you were alright or needed anything. He asked if you were hurt, and the Veteran felt just a twinge of jealousy. The traveler was like a little brother to him—they were best friends. Seeing him be so attentive to you sent a pain right through him. He looked away, crossing his arms.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can heal you if you need…” the traveler smiled nervously.

“Absolutely, honey. I’m fine…” you smiled softly, placing your hands on his. He flushed red and nodded.

“Alright, as long as you think so…”

After a few more minutes of rest, you stood and assured the chain you’d be fine to continue. You all walked for another hour or so and entered town the town. It was a beautiful little tow, with lanterns hung up everywhere that lit the path as the sun set.

The chain split up, some going to speak to the townsfolk, and others going to buy resources. You went with the old man, the captain, the rancher and the traveler to check into the inn. There were enough rooms, but you’d have to bunk with someone. You weren’t sure who’d that be, but honestly, you weren’t too concerned with it at the moment. You quickly went up the stairs, your body growing heavier with each step. You entered one of the empty rooms and collapsed on the bed, kicking your shoes off as you slowly drifted to sleep. A little while later, you heard the door open and shut again, and heard someone light the lantern in the room..

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu four #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu wind #lu twilight #lu sky #lu time #Lu wild #Lu wars #Lu warriors #lu four x reader #lu hyrule x reader #lu legend x reader #lu warriors x reader #lu wind & reader #lu wild x reader #lu time x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu sky x reader #Farore au

[redheadspark]

Can you do prompt 14 with Azriel and his best friend?

A/N - This is great for Azriel, Thanks for requesting this, Anon!

Finally

Summary - Azriel saves the day, in more ways than one

Warnings - Just some fluff!

“So you two….kissed?”

“Did I not just say that, Cas?”

“What?  I’’m making sure I’m getting my story straight!”

You were hiding your face in your hands, completely embarrassed at how Cassian was beyond casual with his whiskey glass in hand, leaned back in his chair as you were sitting in the outdoor area of Ritas.  The rest of the Inner Circle was going to meet up with you all for your monthly dinner, thinking it was a good idea to have it at Ritas that night since the war summer nights were too inviting to not eat there.  Cassian was holding down a massive table and near the terrace, seeing both you and Azriel walked up looking a bit embarrassed.  

Azriel looked more embarrassed, his ears were tinted red and his wings were tucked in far too tight while you were blessing madly along your cheeks and averting your eyes to the ground.  Cassian knew from the very moment he saw you two, something went down before you arrived. 

So you told him.

“Come on, tell me one more time what happened,” Cassian asked in a leisurely manner, chuckling as he took another sip from his drink.  Azriel growled as you huffed and held your glass of wine in a death grip.

“Azriel was meeting me at the shop to walk me here,” You explained calmly.

“As he normally does since you two are besties,” Cassian added, dodging the napkin that Azriel threw at him and laughing, “I’m just saying!  Anyways…continue!”

“My ex saw me leave me the shop, with his girlfriend,” You explained some more, Azriel grumbling a bit from the mention of your ex boyfriend to him.  Being your best friend, Azriel heard all the woes of your ex and what he put you through.  He hated the guy, mostly by associate because he hurt his best friend, but also the guy was well known for knowing how to woe women and not settle.  

Something Azriel knew would never be enough for you, his best friend and secret crush. 

You and Azriel have been best friends since you were teenagers, you befriend him along with Rhysnad and Cassian though your father and Rhysand’s mother and their friendship.  Azriel was the closest to you, and with constant jabs and jokes from the other two Illyrian brutes, you two never really thought about being together. Neither of your cared to listen or feed into the gossip, yet it never really went away as you two went your own ways in careers and professions.  

You still thought of Azriel, you thought of you as his better half and you felt the same.  The feelings lingered when you were young adults and well into your adult years, yet there were always obstacles that were in the way.  He became the Spymaster, you went to open your own shop in the town of Velaris and because successful.  You two stayed in contact with each other, Azriel even ripping you in to being part of the Inner Circle some years back when things were settling back down in Velaris after the Battle against Hybern. 

This ex, the very ex who dumped you after you found out he cheated on you with his own ex, Azriel hated him with everything inside of him,

“That guys a dick,” Cassian grumbled as he drank the rest of the whiskey down in one go, “So he saw you two walking and that’s when you two kissed?

“Well….” You were about to say as you looked over at Azriel and you saw him glare at Cassian.  Your ex was walking with his girlfriend, the very girl he cheated on you with, together wrapped in each other’s arms and looking blissfully happy.  The last you spoke to him was when you threw out his things from your apartment, making it a bit of a spectical in your neighborhood.  He didn’t think of it as a big deal as he gathers his stuff on the ground and waltzed away, ending up with his ex three days later.  

There he was, seeing you walking out of your shop with Azriel and he snorted from the site.  Hw and Azriel were cordial with one another when you were dating your ex, merely because they both wanted you to be happy and you wanted them to play nice.  Azriel thought of him as pompous, and your ex thought of him as a brooding wannabe.  So when Azriel got wind that your ex cheated on you, there was an instant target on his back with no sig of slowing down.  

Azriel saw you look at your ex and have a sour look on your face, and he did the one thing he’s both wanted to do and thought would be appropriate: he kissed you.

“Full on kissed?!” Cassian hissed, trying to contain the smile on his face as Azriel was rolling his eyes and you were fiddling with your wind glass with your fingers, “Man, Az.  Never thought you would be that bold,”

“Cassian, I swear to the Cauldron…” Azriel said to him in a low tone, but the bite was not there in his voice.  In fact, he sounded a bit softer than the scolding tone he had before.  You thought for a split moment that he regretted kissing you, and that was going to break your own heart since you knew your feelings for him were constant for the last century or two.  

But how could it be nothing, the way he kissed you and made your heart sing, how he cradled your face in his palm as he pressed another kiss against your lips and his spare hand wrapped around your waist to pull him in a bit closer.  

It felt like a fever dream, a dream that always plagued your mind as you slept or daydreamed.  Now it came true, in such an unusual way, but it was now exposed to the world as Azriel pulled away and stared dumbfondly at you.  Neither of you saw your ex look away quickly and rushed off with his girlfriend.  You and Azriel were simply watching each other, not saying a word or two and thinking of what to even say to break the tension.  

Azriel broke the tension with a smile, a massive one that was from ear to ear.

“Well this is great news then!” Cassian replied as he poured himself another small drink of whiskey in his glass, “I take it you wanna keep it under wraps from the others?”

“You know the answer to that question,” Azriel replied to Cassian whom nodded his head and laughed.

“I hear you, message received! Your secret is safe with me!” Cassian replied, then looking past you and Azriel and pointing with his hands, “There’s the rest of the group!  I’ll go get them, hang tight love birds!”

He waltzed away from the table before you and Azriel could warn him.  It left you and Azriel awkwardly sitting next to each other, a moment of silence as you finally spoke after a few long moments.

“That went better than I thought,” You hummed, Azriel finally smiling for the first time since you two made it to dinner, “I honestly thought he was going make it worse for us,”

You remembered the pair of you walking over to dinner a few minutes later, train to figure out what you were going to say to the Inner Circle.  Maybe it felt like you two were going to be caught in some kind of scandalous act, since it seemed like you two were the only ones who knew of each other’s feelings.  

“The lady over there just asked if we were a couple,” Azriel commented, gesturing to the older women behind you two as you were walking away from the shop.

“Well, we did just kiss,” You reasoned with him as your steps were echoing along the cobblestone streets.  Azriel smirked. 

“I know, but it’s still cool that we’ve finally been asked, don’t you think?” He asked you in a small coy manner, you had to blush and giggle.

“Oh good, we found you two!”  The rest of the Inner Circle came over to the dinner, happy and looking like they were ready for a good drink and some good food.  Both you and Azriel smiled, not showing it on your faces as the chairs were filled and a server came by to get the drinks of the newcomers.  But under the table, you and Azriel laced your fingers together and never once let go.  It felt right for you two, finally after some centuries of hiding it from one another.

And you two never saw Cassian smile behind his whiskey glass at the site of his two friends finally in love. 

The End

August Prompt Session

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x female reader #azriel x y/n #azriel smut #azriel x oc #a court of mist and fury #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanar #acotar fluff #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #azriel acotar #azriel x you

[morganas-pendragons]

Haven’t We Given Enough? | Joel Miller

Okay, so hear me out. I've known about this game for years but have been exclusively an Xbox kid since like 2004 so I've never had the opportunity to play it. I heard Pedro was cast as Joel and I was shocked that I actually knew the actors playing Joel and Ellie. Saw the trailer, watched the entire first game gameplay, and now I'm here.

Whoops.

I will say this though: I'm really bothered that I could find like nothing but hardcore smut in the tag for this character. I aim to change that. Enjoy some hurt/comfort!

@ironmandeficiency​

This is meant for a fem!reader. There are themes of past pregnancy in this that may come back into play later (reader had and lost a child) so if that is something that makes you uncomfortable, read at your own risk. 

***

It’s remarkable how similar he is to the very thing you’ve thought him to be since you met. While Ellie is like a summer fire burning across empty, barren fields, Joel is the vengeful, unrelenting snow storm that threatens to pull you apart. 

He becomes increasingly good at it the longer you know him. Those dexterous, strong fingers wrap around the rungs of your ribs and pull them apart until the fragile beating thing you call a heart is exposed. 

That fragile beating thing has simply endured too much. It’s endured heartbreak, and loss, and pain, and it’s somehow still keeping you alive despite having lived through the beginning of the Outbreak and twenty years into it. 

Sheer determination has kept you alive. Not love, not your little sister, just a culmination of all the things you’ve endured that have turned into anger. 

It’s not like his anger though. Yours is calm. Methodical. Purposeful. 

Joel Miller’s anger is exactly like him: Vengeful, unrelenting, terrifying. It’s only once you meet that your anger begins to temper down into something he has never quite known. Not in this life anyway. 

Gentless. Compassion. 

Peace. 

And well, Joel Miller finds that the longer he knows you, the more he aches to learn what that really means. 

It’s weird. You know it’s a weird habit, but you’ve been doing it since you were a little girl and have a difficult time not falling back into old habits. People have often accused you of being aloof. Bashful. 

At the very least, people-watching is resourceful and educational. It really teaches you about what to expect from the ones you don’t quite know yet. 

People watching was how you found yourself drawn to Joel Miller. 

It started whenever Marlene sent Tess and Joel to smuggle the two of you out of the city. You were Ellie’s older sister - born before the Outbreak, almost fifteen years her senior - and her solely remaining blood family since your parents deaths. Your mother’s dying wish had been whispered into your ear with her final breath: Look after your sister. 

So you did. 

  “I will be damned if you even think I’m not going to follow that girl,” You snarled, jabbing your thumb into Marlene’s chest. “That’s my sister. My blood. My promise. You will not take that away from me.” 

The Boston QZ was, as to be expected, a literal hell. The only way that you and Ellie were going to survive was if you joined the ranks of the Fireflies. You did. You did, and it ruined you. Any remaining semblance of innocence that you had died years before. 

You didn’t want to think about that. It was past, it was gone, just like that part of who you’d been at that point. 

All gone. Just like the rest of the world. 

Marlene knew better then to argue with a Williams. Where you lacked, Ellie made up for it. It was comical how a fourteen year old girl, in certain situations, had more diplomacy then you did. 

She was the one who talked when Joel came into the room for the first time. 

  “Be careful with that one,” You warned afterward. Marlene snorted as both Williams sisters simultaneously crossed their arms over their chests and leaned into the counter as Joel left the room to confer with his partner. “He’s a storm.” 

Ellie knew of your comparisons. She knew of your uncanny ability to read people, to see people, and she’d never doubted you. Not once. 

  “Funny. First time you told me this, you said I was a fire. If he’s a storm...” She nudged her head uncertainly in the direction Joel had left in. “Then what kind of storm is he?” 

Your eyes flutter closed. You’d been able to gauge a lot just from those few minutes of conversation. “Winter,” You reply quietly. “One of those blizzards we got caught in the winter you turned four. Mom and Dad had us hunker down. We didn’t leave the bank we were in for well over a week. Stayed in the safe.” You pause. “If we had even threatened to step into that storm, we would’ve been obliterated. That’s the kind of storm Joel is. Unyielding, vengeful.” 

  “Your comparisons never fail to amaze me, kid,” Marlene commented. “You’re right on the nose. Watch out for Joel Miller.” 

He’s nothing if not ruthless. 

*** 

For the first couple of months you’re forced to travel across the country with Joel, you hate him. You hate how dismissive he is of you and you hate how he continues to act like dragging Ellie to the Fireflies who will then make the cure is the worst inconvenience he can possibly experience. 

You hate him. You hate him so much because he seems to be able to see right through you. No one has done that since-

Not since him. 

Ellie knows who he is. Joel doesn’t. He doesn’t ask why you sometimes wake up with a cry bubbling in the back of your throat, or why your hands always subconsciously drift toward your ring finger when there’s nothing there. 

He also doesn’t ask why your hand is almost always lingering on your stomach when he sees you through the cracks in the doors of the rooms you and Ellie sleep in. 

He doesn’t ask. 

So you don’t tell. 

*** 

You remember the first time he ever saved you from a clicker on your way through Pittsburgh with Joel, Henry, Ellie and Sam. It’s another one of those instances where you can recall things most other people can't: the details people cannot be bothered to remember. 

The smell of the tunnel. Damp. Dark. The smell of infected wafting through your nose, a familiar smell now just like the burnt bodies you so often found permeating the air in the QZ. 

The click of the shotgun. The desperate shout of Joel’s voice as he tackled that creature to the ground before firing once, twice, three times into its face while you struggled to regain your breath. 

The way that, afterward, he’d tossed the gun into Ellie’s arms to take your own into his hands and survey your skin for bites. 

  “You good, darlin’?” He’d asked, and your brain short-circuited because this was not the same man who'd spent the last several weeks showing you and your sister nothing but utter disdain and contempt. 

  “Yeah, yeah... I’m good.” You murmur. “Thanks Joel.” 

The most memorable part of that particular day - aside from the sunlight and the way it reflected just right against the grey and white of Joel’s hair and his eyes - was the way you had learned that, underneath the rough exterior, he had the same bleeding heart you did. 

*** 

Jackson is nice. It’s clearly the beginnings of what’s meant to become a larger, thriving civilization somewhere down the line, but it’s the first place you’ve been in the last twenty years that feels calm. 

Joel’s entire demeanor changes upon arrival, and it’s not until the gates open that you realize why: The man who steps through - and is clearly one of the few in charge - bears a remarkable resemblance to him. 

You and Ellie later find out that it’s Tommy. His younger brother. 

The details of that newly made memory are astonishingly clear: The curve of Joel’s smile, the feeling of the sunlight, the laughter that echoes as the three of you are led inside. 

For once in the last two decades, you have finally met someone who doesn’t have malicious intent. 

  “So who’s the older girl, Joel?” 

  “Kid’s sister,” Joel replied curtly. “That’s it.” 

Tommy clucked his tongue and shook his head as they entered the water plant. “I know you better then that,” He argued. “Way you look at her? Not just her sister. You’ll figure it out sooner than later even though that thick skull of yours.” 

The plant is attacked by the bandits who have been trying to infiltrate the compound for the last couple of months. Your illusion of peace is shattered as you again are forced to take, take, take, until there’s nothing left but bodies to deal with. 

That’s when you find out Ellie is gone. You find out Ellie is gone and for the first time in quite a while, you are properly afraid. 

And fear fuels you. Just like anger. 

Joel knows anger, but he doesn’t know your anger until he has the gall to tell your little sister she doesn’t know what loss is. It’s unfortunate you manage to hear the entire conversation through the bedroom door while staking out the house to ensure you’re in the clear. 

She’d run away from Jackson. Why, you don’t know, but you had been more panic then anything else because it was the first time Ellie had ever attempted to do something like that. 

You really just wanted to know her reasoning. 

  “What do you want from me?!” Joel snaps, harsh and sharp, as he storms deeper into the room. 

  “Admit that you wanted to get rid of me the whole time! Admit that my sister has been nothing but an inconvenience to you and you’ve felt burdened by us both!” 

You can’t see Joel’s face. You can’t see his face, but you see the way his body reacts to that statement. He’s trying really hard to keep himself under control. It’s admirable. 

They argue for what feels like years. Ellie calls him out, again and again, only to be stonewalled by Joel’s incessant need to keep everyone at arms length and provide as little information about himself and his feelings as possible. 

What causes you to storm into the room is the statement that makes the whole world grind to a stop. 

  “I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel... but I have lost people too.” 

  “You have no idea what loss is.” 

Ellie’s entire aspect shifts into something akin to both horror and shock as you storm into the room, fury radiating from your features, to only then whip Joel Miller around and slap him in the face. 

Your handprint burns against his cheek as he stares at you slack jawed, raising his own hand to cradle him jaw. Joel’s seen you do a lot of things. He’s seen you kill, and he’s seen you comfort, but he’s never bore witness to the heart of the storm itself. 

He immediately regrets provoking the argument now. 

  “El,” You say quietly, fury dripping from your words as you grip his shirt with tight fingers. “Go downstairs and join Tommy. Now.”

Ellie doesn’t argue. She never has because she knows better. With a curt nod, your little sister evacuates the room like a flood has just fallen upon it to leave you - the gentle storm versus the vengeful one - alone with Joel. 

  “Sunshine-” 

  “Don’t.” You snarl. “Don’t you dare. You don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to telling her she doesn’t know what loss is, you sanctimonious egotistical-” Your hands pound against his chest, once, twice, three times. Every hit makes you just a little more tired. “We all know what loss is, Joel! You’re not the only one who’s had to deal with the funerals!” 

Funerals. 

Huh. 

Snatching your hands with his own, Joel’s response is quiet and extremely unnerving as he murmurs, “We didn’t have funerals. We just burned them.” 

You don’t have time to reply. There’s people in the house, and you’re left to slip back into your mask as you remove your gun from its holster and flick the safety off. 

You don’t spare Joel a second glance. 

*** 

It’s another dead end. Another dead end full of questions and no answers that leave you asking more that no one seems to be able to give you. There might be nothing here but bodies and unanswered questions, but it does give you one thing that makes it memorable. 

The way that Ellie has smiled more now than she has since your parents and Riley died. You don’t try to intervene, to make yourself apart of what are undoubtedly her memories to carry, so you watch. 

It’s enough. 

It’s pretty straight forward into the University - nothing, nothing, and more nothing - until you’re ambushed by another group that has you and Joel fighting hand to hand for the first time in a while. 

You’ve only just managed to incapacitate yours when a resounding crash sounds from outside, and you just barely see the telltale salt-and-pepper hair go careening over the edge of the balcony. 

Seeing Joel like that.. That’s the second time you’ve known the same fear in such a short amount of time: Fear of loss. 

There’s me, the fool with the slow heart who dared to think I could love someone else again. 

***

The storms feels like it’s dwindling now. Like it’s simply the kind you get in the early hours of the morning in December, where the clouds are thick and gray and cover the entire sky as snow slowly falls to stick upon the chilled earth. 

Joel Miller has been this unyielding, fierce storm that threatens to tear everything apart from the moment you met him in Boston. He’s cold. Calculating. Sharp. You’ve seen what he’s capable of - and reacted quite violently the first time, you hadn’t realized the human body held that much blood - and have experienced the ramifications of what such things can do. 

The nightmares, the abrasiveness, the need to push everyone away because it’s simply easier than allowing yourself to love something that death can touch. 

You’ve always known Joel to be a storm, but since Ellie - and you, though you just don’t know it yet - have wormed into his heart, the storm has dwindled. It’s gentler. Softer. More willing to listen to reason, to fight for something other then himself. 

The rough exterior that turns so many people away is slowly giving to show who’s under the surface. 

You were almost positive that your heart was going to give out when you watched Joel fall from Ellie’s horse. You’d barely been able to do anything about the wound he’d obtained from the rebar at the university, using what meager means of medical supplies you had in your saddlebags to pack and dress it so the bleeding stopped. 

Ellie had watched you from the top of Callus as you carried him to the horse and slowly eased him into her arms. 

  “Do you think he’s gonna make it?” She asked you later, long after you’d lost sight of the school over your shoulder. 

  “I hope so, El.” You reply quietly. “I don’t know what we’ll do if he doesn’t.” It’s half a truth with a confession hidden in between of your true feelings toward the matter. You’d spent so much time watching Joel - learning about the inner workings of a man your heart aches to know, to heal, to love - that you weren’t sure what you’d do if his steady, sure presence wasn’t around anymore. 

The three of you have made your home inside a garage in an abandoned neighborhood when the snowfall hits. Ellie volunteers to take care of the horses while you situate yourself and Joel into a crude attempt of a sleeping situation inside, pushing two of the remaining mattresses together and scrounging up blankets for you to shield yourselves from the cold.

You don’t like how pale he is. His wound isn’t infected, which is good, but his heartbeat is too weak and you can’t help yourself from feeling somewhat responsible. 

  “Joel Miller,” You whisper, long after Ellie is gone and it’s just the sound of uneven breathing and the pounding of your heart from where you lay curled around him on the pair of mattresses. “You’ve gone and gotten yourself into my blood stream. You’re not allowed to give up on me. On us. Do you understand?” 

Joel doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t answer. You don’t expect him to, but part of you wishes he’d open those dark brown eyes and gaze up at you with all the longing and desperation you’ve felt towards him since... since. 

The bitter cold that settles in your bones is an alarming reminder that you need to curl around Joel to preserve body heat. Last thing you need is him dying of hyperthermia. 

  “Don’t leave us,” You whisper again, curling your fingers into his hair as you tuck your body around his own and press your chin against the top of his head. “Don’t leave us.” 

We can’t take another funeral. 

*** 

The first time Joel wakes up is the day before Ellie leaves for another hunting trip. She’s scrounged up a meager amount of supplies through the houses in the neighborhood, just enough for you to get by, but you can’t help but feel the weight of the guilt settling in your stomach when you hear Ellie’s stomach growl halfway through the night. 

It’s not like you’re sleeping anyway. 

Joel’s sudden state of awareness is brought upon by the fingers raking through his hair and the warmth that touches his skin from the body wrapped around him. It’s odd, foreign. After so many years of isolating himself from other people, he hadn’t realized how much he craved physical contact. 

And the burn that follows is enough to make him groan. 

  “Joel?” Immediately your hands are at his sides, Ellie’s face just above his head as his vision swims. The pain is muted. Numb. He’s barely feeling is because he’s far too distracted by your hands. “Can you hear me? I’m going to check your wound again. If you stay awake enough, I want you to eat.” 

Ellie has taken his head into her lap before he can protest. Joel is awake just enough to say your name, low and hoarse, before his vision swims with black spots and the last thing he can remember is the burn. 

He can remember the burn, and he can remember how you made him feel in the midst of it. Peaceful. Safe. 

Joel Miller has never known peaceful or safe. Not since her. Not since Sarah. 

And as he succumbs to sleep, he finds that he wants to know it more. 

***  

Ellie’s been gone for too long. You know she’s been gone for too long, and you haven’t heard from her on the walkies the two of you had found a couple of weeks before. 

She’s been gone too long. You need to go find her. 

That’s the second and final time Joel wakes up. 

You’re halfway through loading his shotgun when he finally comes to, wide eyed and alert as his hands scramble for purchase on the closest weapon to him. “Easy, Joel,” You chide gently. “It’s just me.” 

Something settles in him. He seems at ease with your answer. 

  “Where’s-” Joel grunts as he sits up, pressing a hand to his side as he does so. You ease the shotgun to the side and kneel down to his level to meet the worry in his gaze. “Where’s Ellie?” 

Your frown deepens. “She went out to hunt too long ago,” You reply. “I was just about to secure this place and then go look for her.” 

  “Why didn’t you?” 

You fidget nervously with your hands as your gaze drops into your lap.  “I didn’t want to leave you alone, Joel.” 

He wants to scold you. Joel wants to chastise you for such a foolish decision when your sister’s life is on the line, but he can’t find it in him to do so because your gaze is so genuine. He’s not used to that. 

Joel Miller is not used to real. 

Pressing a gentle thumb to the divot in your chin, you’re captivated by the way the condescension and hostility in his demeanor is gone as he slowly moves his fingers to cup the curve of your jaw. “Thank you,” He murmurs gratefully. “But now we need to go find Ellie.” A pause. “Are you ready to do what we need to do, if it gets bad?” 

He always asks you this. Right before he has to embrace the side of himself that scares you, that you’ve tried so hard to keep at bay, Joel warns you about it. 

  “Yeah. Yeah...” You pump the shotgun in response and press it against your hip. “Yeah, I am.” 

It’s uncanny how quickly you’ve learned how to slip into your masks. The mask of the gentle, compassionate woman that Joel had only just gotten to know disappears in the face of the violence he’s so accustomed to - shifting into something darker, more apathetic, more willing to do what needs to be done. 

Even for the sake of one life. 

You don’t even flinch when he starts torturing two of the men patrolling the neighborhood you’ve called home for the last few days. Not when the screaming starts. not when the blood pours. 

  “Now, the girl. Is she alive?” 

  “What girl? I don’t know no girl!” 

The poor idiot doesn’t start talking until Joel has driven his blade clear through his knee. According to his endless rambling, your kid sister has become the newest pet to someone named David. 

And that makes you see red. 

You don't blink twice when both bodies lay motionless on the ground. 

  “Hey Joel?” 

  “Yeah, sunshine.” 

  “When we find this David,” You drag your fingers across the expanse of his shoulders to rest them on the exposed skin of his neck. His pulse thrums steadily under your touch. “I’m going to be the one to put the bullet in his face.” 

***

The storm has died down to a newly fallen December snow. The temper has eased, and the anger has dissipated - only to be directed toward the people who are most deserving of it - into something that searches, that yearns, for something. 

Snow melts. Snow melts and reveals what lays beneath it. 

You’re just inside of the Salt Lake City limits when it happens. You’re the one who volunteered to take watch while Joel and Ellie slept. The three of you were nearly in the endgame now being so close to the Firefly hospital. Once your sister was taken there, the world would finally be saved. 

And you could finally settle. No more running, no more existing. 

Chewing absently on the inside of your cheek, you fiddle with the edge of your rifle from your lookout point over your camp. You’re almost too deep into your thoughts to hear him scream.

But he doesn’t just scream. Joel screams Sarah’s name, and everything becomes astonishingly clear as to why he has been the way he is. Ellie had told you about Tommy trying to slip Joel the last photo of him and his daughter before the outbreak. How he’d refused it. How he, to this day, remained adamant that his departed little girl would never be a topic of conversation. 

No one warns you about the loss of a child. 

  “Easy, Joel,” You warn, shouldering your rifle as you climb down from the tree to sit beside the bed. His shaking fingers are wrapped tightly around the hilt of his blade. “There’s just a couple of hours until the sun comes up. You thirsty?” 

Dark eyes flicker to the next bedroll. Ellie is still sleeping. 

  “No,” He replies gruffly. “But thanks.” 

There’s a long moment of companionable silence that passes as you sit beside him, finally feeling courageous enough to spill your heart at his feet, “For all those months when we started this, I hated you. I hated you because you clearly hated me-” 

  “First off,” Joel interjects sharply. “Never been a time in which I hated you. Don’t know what gave you that assumption.” 

  “So if it wasn’t hate, then what was it? I’m not an expert at reading Joel Miller,” You shrug. “At least not yet.” 

The sun is just beginning to creep over the edges of the three line in front of you. The sky above is shifting from the deep black to a soft, gentle blue that will shift into the golds and oranges of dawn. 

You’re running out of time. 

Joel swallows the knot in his throat as he contemplates his answer. Giving the real answer means being real and vulnerable. He’s not sure if he’s ready for that yet. 

He’s not sure if he’s ready for that but with the open, earnest way you’re looking at him? He’ll get there eventually. 

  “Sarah was my daughter,” Joel says quietly. He can’t look at you. If he looks at you while he says this he will come apart at the seams. “She died at the start of the epidemic. Longer that goes by, more I’m almost.. grateful.” The words are sour on his tongue. It sounds so wrong. “She was too good for a world like this one. Too pure. Any kind of innocence I had was gone a long time ago. I was made for this kind of life,” His eyes slowly shift to meet yours. You haven’t taken your gaze off of his face once. “You and Ellie weren’t.” 

You smile. “That’s sweet, Joel. Really. But you could not know-” 

  “I do know. I know because you have something that doesn’t exist anymore.’’

You tip your head to the side in confusion. “Which is?” 

  “Goodness. Compassion. You’re real,” Joel pauses, running his tongue along his teeth. “That’s why it looked like I hated you. I hated you because I was afraid of how real you are. How gentle you are.” 

  “Why would that be something you’d fear?” You ask softly. 

  “Because I don’t deserve that kind of thing, Sunshine. Goodness? Compassion? All the soft things that died with my little girl?” He shakes his head. “Those aren’t something you give to someone like me.” 

You’d noticed over the last couple of months that every time you touched Joel, he recoiled like he had been burned. You’d seen that before too. It was the look often accompanied by the quiet desire to seek more of something you’d been deprived of: The look of a touch starved man. 

It was why you’d been more deliberate in starting slow. Cheek touches, chin touches, gentle fingers raking through his hair to scrape across his scalp and kisses to bloodied knuckles on the nights things were bad. 

If he wanted real, if he wanted peace, you were more then willing to give it to him. 

  “I had a son,” You whisper. This is not something you are ready to divulge to Ellie. Not yet. “He was born around the same time she was, though she never knew it,” Something akin to realization flickers through his eyes before he’s opening his mouth to apologize, most likely, but you hush him with a raised hand as you continue. “He died before he ever turned one.” 

You didn’t want to continue. It was still too fresh. Too raw. He would’ve been fifteen soon. 

Joel took your hand into his own and spread your fingers apart, dragging the tips of his own fingers across the back of each of yours before lifting them to his lips to kiss all your fingertips. 

  “They have a word for someone who’s lost a spouse. What do you call someone who lost a child?” 

And there it is, that quiet understanding you share that makes you ache to pull back what remains of his walls and finally reveal the man who lay underneath. 

You hum thoughtfully as you then lean forward to just barely graze your lips against his cheek. 

That’s also the same time Ellie decides to wake up. She sees the way your silhouettes cast across the grass as the rays of early morning light emerge from over the trees. She sees the way Joel leans into you like he’s seeking something, and she sees the way scarlet dusts your cheeks when you finally pull away. 

Hm.

Seems like you’ve finally found what you’re looking for. 

*** 

Everything finally feels right. You’ve finally started down a path that ends with Joel realizing that you love him, with Joel realizing that he’s deserving, and with you hopefully realizing that he’s been reciprocating for quite some time. 

The three of you are at the hospital in Salt Lake after being caught in the flood. You’re the one who took the most damage. Battered and bruised, Joel is left to watch helplessly from your bedside as you sleep. He’d only just woken up himself in the same state. 

Marlene comes in much, much later to tell you what’s going on with Ellie. What the real cure is, what it will do to her. 

And suddenly, again, everything comes screeching to a halt. 

This is the story of how, despite everything between you and Joel going right, everything begins to go wrong and you’re left with a decision that will inevitably cost you your sister. 

All of those lives, for the sake of one.... is it worth it? 

Haven’t I given enough? 

part two??? :D 

#The Last of Us #tlou #tlou1 #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel x Reader

[rorywritesjunk]

So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear

It's the three year anniversary since everything changed in Buggy's life for the worst.

Rating: PG-13, just to be safe. Warning: Angst. References to Roger's death, Buggy and Shanks' fight, there's mention of teasing, there's a protective friend, Buggy has Big Feelings, yells at Reader. There's tears. A/N: A request from the lovely @chochotorianime10 who wanted a young Buggy with an s/o who is like Kagura from Fruits Basket, who is the Boar in the zodiac. Buggy in this fic is 19, full of angst. He just wants a drink. Honestly these two probably both need some kind of therapy, especially Buggy. Title comes from "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men.

It had been three years since Roger’s execution and the falling out between two friends, but you saw how Buggy’s eyes still flashed whenever he heard mention of Red Haired Shanks or saw a straw hat or anything that could remind him of the friend he once had. You had remained by his side after that, despite being friends with the two of them at a time. Love made a person do silly things and with how much you loved Buggy, you turned your back on Shanks when you saw how hurt Buggy was after their fight.

And it didn’t help that you loved Buggy so much that sometimes your emotions got the better of you. You were in a pub with him, bringing drinks to your shared table to help him feel better when you overheard someone make a passing comment about the clown over there in the corner lookin’ sad, aren’t clowns supposed to be happy and funny?

And well, your nickname on the Oro Jackson had been The Boar with the way you often charged forward into chaos without much thought and this was no different. You didn’t even make it to the table before you swung one of the bottles around, striking the stranger in the face and knocking him back into his friend. 

“Say that again, asshole!” You snapped as arms encircled you, pulling you away from the fight that was about to start. It was the third anniversary of That Day and Buggy wasn’t in the mood for a fight, even if he wasn’t involved in it. 

He dragged you out of the pub before the guy’s friends could retaliate, pulling you down the street and ducking into an alleyway. You managed to get out of his grasp to peer around the corner, grumbling about asshole drunks before looking back at Buggy with a worried expression. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, demeanour opposite of how it was seconds ago. He just stared at you before shaking his head.

“I wanted a drink, why did you have to do that!” He demanded angrily, clenching his fists. “Where else am I going to go?!”

“There’s another pub down the street, looks better anyways.” You chuckled, not bothered by his tone. He seethed, teeth clenched as he glared at you. You just smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, my love. We’ll get you good and drunk to forget what the day is.”

He glared and shrugged your hand off. Today wasn’t the day he wanted to put up with your antics. This was the one day of the year where he wanted to be miserable, to mourn for what life had been, not drag you away from a brawl because you overheard him being insulted by some drunkard. 

“I'm going to find a different place.” He grumbled as he started for the street, but your hand grabbed his and stopped him. He jerked his hand out of your grasp and spun around to yell at you to just leave him alone for a few seconds, but he bit his tongue when he saw the tears in your eyes.

“I'm sorry, Buggy.” You sniffled as you reached for his hand once again. “I just… that guy said somethin’ mean about you and I couldn't stand it. I hate it when people are mean to you.”

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before counting to three, exhaling slowly before he opened his eyes. You always looked out for him ever since the two of you met as children on the ship. The first time you heard someone make a jab about Buggy’s appearance you kicked the person so hard in the kneecap it shattered. You were ten. The crew started calling you The Boar affectionately shortly after that with how you attacked anyone without warning when it came to Buggy.

“Yea, well! Keep it together at the next place.” He snapped. “Don't get us run out of every pub in this town, okay?! I want to actually enjoy my drinks!”

You nodded, still holding his hand while your other hand wiped away the tears in your eyes. “I miss’im.”

“Yea, I do too.” Buggy mumbled as he started for the street again, tugging you along with him. While you drove him crazy, he was happy to have you with him, and the fact you chose him over Shanks made him feel a bit better about how everything went after the fight. You always chose Buggy over Shanks no matter what the situation was, even down to a stupid argument between the two and Shanks was right, you still agreed with Buggy.

“I'll make you breakfast tomorrow.” You told him as you trailed behind him, still holding his hand. He sighed and pulled you close so you walked beside him, not wanting his arm stretched that far back. Sure, he could pop his hand off and you could hold it for him, but he hated that. He wanted you by his side, not behind him.

“You don't have to.” Buggy mumbled. You looked at him, biting your bottom lip.

“But I wanna.”

He looked at you with a frown. You weren't the worse cook, the food was kind of edible, but you two had a room at a nearby inn that offered breakfast and well, Buggy planned to load a bag up of rolls and anything else that would keep so he wouldn't have to have your cooking.

“The inn offers breakfast.” He reminded you. “Just… don't worry about it.”

“Buggyyyyyy, can I at least fix your plate in the morning?” You begged, hand in yours as you swung your arm back and forth as you two made your way to the next pub. “You know I'll make it with lots of love.”

Ugh, love. You said that to him enough that he figured you must mean it, but he maybe said it once to you. It wasn't that he didn't have some kind of love for you, he just wasn't really sure how to define whatever the relationship between the two of you actually was. He never bothered to flirt with anyone, even if you weren't around, because no one would reciprocate. Often they'd just laugh at him, thinking it was a joke, and hide their snide comments to their friends behind their hands while Buggy walked away.

Shanks always made it look so easy. He had always ended up with a pretty girl on his lap or in his arms while the three of you would go to a pub together. You were all young and dumb, unaware of what was coming to tear you all apart, but it was all in good fun. There were times Shanks tried to hug you or give you a kiss on the cheek in front of Buggy, but you would always laugh and punch him in the shoulder before he could, not paying attention to the anger and jealousy in Buggy’s eyes.

He wasn't really sure what he was jealous about at the time. Was it Shanks trying to be too friendly with you or was it the fact Shanks could have anyone but he was going after you? Buggy couldn't understand why he had felt that way, and years later he wondered if he was still in denial in some way. 

He wasn't in love with you, he was positive of that, because while he appreciated you stuck around there were times he wondered if it was out of pity for him. Did you think he wasn't capable of taking care of himself? You were always there for him, ready to take someone down, and he knew growing up that others didn't think he could.

But you knew he could, you just didn't want him to do it alone.

“Buggggyyyy?” You asked in a sing-song voice as you two made your way to the next pub. He glanced at you with a frown while you looked at him with big, hopeful eyes. “Can… can I have a kiss?

“What?! Why?!” He demanded. “Why do you want one?!”

“B-Because that's what people do when they're in love.” You mumbled, suddenly averting your gaze from him as you looked down at your feet as your cheeks turned bright red. “I see couples do it all the time, y’know, and… and wished we would.”

“We are not a couple!” He shrieked, patience vanishing at the request and the look in your eyes for him. “Why the hell would you think that?! I don't love you!”

He dropped your hand and took a step back, breathing heavily as he glared at you. The silence was deafening, you were looking at him with big, surprised eyes. Was that too far this time? He often lost his temper but this was the first time he spoke to you like that. 

When you didn't respond, he started to panic just a bit. Now you would leave him too, just like Shanks, because he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. He hated that you weren't talking just then, this had to be the longest period you've ever been quiet for when you weren't sleeping.

“Wi-Will you say something?!” He demanded, clenching his fists tightly as he narrowed his eyes. “I just said I don't love you, okay, so you might as well just leave me alone now! Like everyone else!”

You lifted your hands up to his face and he started to take a step back; he knew your strength, he awaited the blows you would surely deliver, and when your fingers touched his skin, your palms pressing against his cheeks, he flinched, trying to jerk away.

“Buggy, it's okay.” You told him calmly, and he hated the soothing sound of your voice just then. He needed you to be mad at him, shrieking with the same intensity you showed for that man back at the pub, yet your tone was quieter, comforting him like you had many times before. “It's… it's okay.”

“No, no it's not.” He snapped back as he tried to pull away from you. “You should just leave me already! Everyone else has!”

You wouldn't let him get away, instead dropping your hands to his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He didn't fight you too hard to get away, the frustration and anger bubbling to the surface his arms wrapped around you. Buggy didn't want you to go, he didn't want to be alone. Today was a hellish day, the events years ago replaying in his mind every waking moment, but you stayed by his side no matter what he said to you, taking his emotions in stride.

“I'm not leaving you.” You assured him as you tightened your arms around him. 

“Why not?! You should!” Buggy shot back as tears welled up in his eyes. “I don't understand why you stick around, I don't love you!”

“That's okay.” 

He didn't miss the hitch in your voice when you said that or your own tears that started streaming down your cheeks. You still managed to smile at him despite what he just said.

“I still love you, Buggy, because I know you need someone to.” You sniffled. “I know you don't mean it.”

His eyes widened slightly and he stopped fighting to get away. He hesitated when he hugged you. He didn't deserve your kindness, he never did, but you still stuck around. He let the tears fall, not bothering to hide them, knowing you were the only person he trusted to see him this vulnerable.

“Let’s go get a drink, okay?” You suggested as you pulled back from the hug a few minutes later, once the tears stopped for the two of you. “I’ll be good this time.”

Buggy sniffed, rubbing his nose before wiping his hand on his shirt with a shrug, trying to ignore the fact he was just crying. You used the hem of your shirt to wipe your own face before smiling up at Buggy. He looked away from you and crossed his arms.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He mumbled as he started walking again; you trailed after him, linking your arm around his. He didn’t say anything or try to pull away. “You… you were defending me. S’okay.”

You giggled and slipped your arm away from his, slapping your hand against his shoulder lovingly, causing Buggy to stumble a bit from the force. He bit back a retort, letting you once more link your arm with his as the two of you headed for the next pub. 

He wondered if he was going to regret this, but he suddenly turned to face you, pecking you on the cheek so quickly you weren’t even sure he actually made contact with your skin, but you weren’t going to point it out. You just hugged his arm and let your head rest against his shoulder as the two of you walked along, and while it may take Buggy some time to admit it, he loved that you stuck around for him, took care of him, and put up with him, and he figured at some point he may tell you that he loves you, but it would have to wait.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc

[noforkingclue]

Hey, I'm not sure if you have done this kinda idea before but I will still sent it to you anyway if you have already done it please feel free to ignore. Could I please request a Billy Butcher x supe!reader where he and the reader are in a car chase trying to escape the bad guys but they aren't losing them so the reader has to remove a power inhibitor which they wear and use their powers to escape the bad guys and then once they are safe talk with Billy about why they hid their powers from him and prehaps the reader could be a threat to a certain person who only knows the reader by their powers but not appearance.

I really hope you're doing well at work and I hope you enjoy the rest of your week.

Oooh yay! It's been fucking ages since I've written anything for The Boys. Can't wait for series 4 later this year. Maybe I need to start a rewatch soon...

Anyway, hope you like the fic :)

Title: Please, Listen

The Boys tag list: @captainofmybigwetdream, @scraftshu35, @zannemees, @holy-minseok

Billy Butcher tag list: @mrdcks-spaghetti

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“Shit, shit, shit,” you said as you looked behind you, “we’re not fucking loosing them.”

“I fucking know that,” snapped Butcher, “what do you think- fuck!”

Butcher was interrupted by a shower of bullets against the car. You winced as you felt the glass cut you and looked carefully behind you. You bit your lip and you glanced at your wrist. You really really didn’t want to take it off but you were seeing no other opportunity. The Vought cars were gaining on you and things were, for once, looking bleak.

“Billy.”

Butcher briefly glanced over at you. You using his first name was usually enough but it was the tone of your voice which really caught his attention.

“What? Bit busy here incase you can’t fucking see.”

“I’m sorry.”

You pulled off the power inhibitor. You flexed your fingers before taking a deep breath and casting a portal. Butcher let out a string of swear words as the two of you crashed through the portal. You immediately got out of the car and clicked your fingers just as another car was halfway through it. You looked away as the Vought agents were swiftly cut in half. Finally you took a deep breath and glanced over at Butcher. He was gripping the wheel tightly, eyes fixed ahead.

“What the fuck?”

You glanced over as MM came marching over. Frenchie and Hughie were hanging back a bit but you could see the curiosity in their eyes.

“I can-” you started

“She’s a fucking supe.”

You winced at the tone in Butcher’s voice as he slammed the car door shut. You glanced at the ground as he walked over to you.

“What?” asked MM

“Y/n is a… supe?” asked Hughie and you could hear the disbelief in his voice

“Look,” you tried to keep the desperation out of your voice but knew you were failing, “I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a fucking choice.” spat Butcher

“I didn’t ask to be born like this,” you snapped, “You think I wanted to have fucking powers? Why do you think I created this?”

You held up the power inhibitor and slapped it back on your wrist. You let out a grunt of pain and rolled back your shoulders.

“Still prototype,” you said, “but it seems like it does the trick. Fucking hurts though.”

“Good.”

You blinked at the bitterness in Butcher’s voice. He marched over to you and jabbed you in the chest. You took a couple of steps back when you saw the venom in his eyes. You had seen that look before but it had never been directed at you. You knew it was going to be difficult when he found out the truth but, maybe slightly naively, you thought things might be a bit different. After all, how many times had you saved his life?

“I want you to fuck off,” he said, “and if I ever see you again I’ll put a bullet in your supe cunt head.”

“And this was why I didn’t fucking tell you,” you snapped, “because you’d push me away.”

“If I had known you were a supe to begin with I’d never allow you to be part of this. So fuck off.”

You looked desperately at Butcher’s retreating figure. You wanted to go after him and beg him to listen to you but you knew it was pointless. You glanced at your other friends and MM folded his arms.

“So,” you said, “where do you want me to begin.”

“At the fucking beginning,” MM said, “and then we’ll where we go from there.”

#fanfiction #the boys #reader insert #request #billy butcher #billy butcher x reader

[littlemissmanga]

"Don't Forget That, Okay?

Pairing: Crosshair x reader

WC: 2,020

Warnings: A bit of angst/hurt feelings, but what do you expect with Crosshair. All is resolved by the end though.

Prompt/Square: “don’t forget that”

Summary: The Bad Batch have a rare few days of leave, meaning you get a chance to visit home. You invite the boys to tag along. But Crosshair makes his discomfort with the domestic scene known.

a/n: So my parents were those parents growing up. They were the ones who “adopted” my friends. My childhood home was open to anyone going through a tough time or in need of additional support, no matter what that looked like. Even if everything was good, they were always checking in on friends and trying to feed them (seriously, like an ungodly amount of time was spent eating). Many of my friends have my parents’ cell numbers to this day (we’re all over 30) and still text them just to chat.

I couldn’t help but think of how “I don’t need anyone” Crosshair would react to reader bringing him home seeing a well-adjusted and reasonably happy family and feeling so out of place. Think a Shawn Hunter in Boy Meets World situation. And that just made me want to hug him. Then I saw my Clone x Reader Bingo Card courtesy of @clonexreaderbingo and “don’t forget that” seemed to fit perfectly!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- b

The wind cut against his skin, the harsh sting reminding him how exposed he was.

Not just because his armor was still inside, too far to grab before the need for fresh air overwhelmed him. No, the barely silent current that ran along through his muscles and shocked like a raw nerve was thanks to you.

A bitter burst of air pushes past his lips without consent.

Of course, like always, you didn’t need to try to get under his skin. You’d done that naturally the first second you’d stepped on the Marauder, meeting him quip for quip as soon as you opened your mouth. Your tenacity and stubbornness grated on him and thrilled him in the same breath, and soon he began craving your verbal matches.

They would always end at an impasse, leaving him more determined to force you to back off … or get a rise out of you. Soon, he began craving the intimacy of them. He began craving that moment when the two of you stood toe to toe, willing the other to cave first so you could follow.

He saw how easily you meshed with his brothers, how they could make you laugh out loud or comfort you after a tough mission and he had longed to join their ranks. Longed for much more, actually.

And then you stumbled. Stuttered, technically. And it opened the door.

He still hasn’t figured out what caused you to trip over your words that day, but when he turned to look at you, confusion melted into smug contentment at the sight of your wide eyes roving over his arms before snapping up to meet his.

Ever since, the second you started to get mouthy with him, Cross would pull himself up to his full height to tower over you, almost as if he was reminding a reg to mind his place. Well, in a way he was. But your place — where he’d like it to be, anyway — was much closer than he’d let any of those regs. Hell, closer than he’d let his brothers most days, if he was being honest.

And Maker if your reaction didn’t spur him on each time. He didn’t need Hunter’s hearing to know your heart would start racing. He could see the desperate way you’d try to control your breathing, chest heaving so pretty, just for him. Because of him.

The fire that raced through his veins that first time seared that image into his memory forever. He thought then he would do anything to keep you there. Next to him.

You seem to feel the same. In the months since, you had rarely left his side. You continued to constantly wheedle him, though neither of you jabbed with the same venom anymore. Not really. It was all an act, a dance to pull you together without either needing to be the first to succumb to the vulnerability he could feel tug at his heart every time he caught you sneaking a glance at him.

But again, without a thought, you put him right back on his ass. Now, it feels like his stomach felt would fall out his ass if his chest didn’t collapse in on itself first.

She doesn’t even know it.

And you shouldn’t. It was his mistake.

He forgot he was a soldier, a clone built for nothing more than war. That truth had honestly never bothered him before. He had his squad, his missions and his skills. That’s all he needed out of life.

But seeing you here …

He should have known accepting the invitation was stupid. When the Batch had been given a few days of leave, he should have kept to his routine. Stayed in the Marauder, cleaned his rifle and caught up on sleep instead of agreeing to join you and the others in visiting your home planet.

When the ship first touched down, he could see his brothers surveying the area. But as they approached an almost picturesque home at the end of a picturesque road, their curiosity remained as Crosshair’s morphed into bitterness.

It was too bright, too open, too peaceful to be anything other than alien.

Your smile was dazzling when you called out to your family with a lightly mocking tone, but the contentment on your face when your mother pulled you into her embrace broke his heart. It’s why he was the only one of the Batch to refuse the same welcome from her.

That Tech looked slightly uncomfortable with the overt affection was little comfort. Crosshair couldn’t even bring himself to tease his brother. Not when you so clearly belonged here. And Crosshair knew he never would.

So when your mom tried to get him to talk about himself, when your dad asked what he’d like to eat for dinner, when you looked at him with those eyes that shone with so much kriffing happiness it would have brought him to his knees if he were a weaker man ... he ran.

Like a worthless hut'tuun, damn him.

That’s what hurts the most. He knew the truth, deep down. But he hid from it. It was so easy to do when you were in his world.

Seeing you in yours has forced him to acknowledge that your place isn’t with him. It’s here, or somewhere just like here. Somewhere far away from battlefields and blaster smoke. Somewhere where kind words fill the air, rather than explosions. Where you can surround yourself with people who love you and can keep you happy.

You fit here. So completely he’s sure he will never see anything so perfect again. And with that same certainty, he also knows he will never belong here or anywhere like it.

This sort of soft, quiet peace isn’t meant for a soldier … a sniper … him.

“Cross?”

He freezes at the sound of your voice, letting the howl of wind through the trees suffice as a reply. When an exasperated huff fills the air, he expects it to be followed by your footsteps fading away as you turn back toward the house.

But then, you never do what he expects, do you?

So, he steels himself, tensing his muscles and darkening his glare when you plop onto the ground next to him in front of your childhood home.

“Ever heard of personal space?” He spits, hating the insecurity that forces the venom to seep back into his voice on instinct.

“Don’t be stingy, it’s cold out here! Not all of us run warm, you know.” Your tone remains light, joyful. Artificially so.

He doesn’t understand how you could willfully ignore every hostile reaction his body gave. He isn’t sure if he hates it or loves it. “Then go inside.”

Your lips purse as if you’re really considering it, fooling no one. “Hmm … nah. I think I’ll stay put.”

Crosshair scoffs and looks ahead. He doesn’t want to encourage you. But he is selfish. Too selfish to push you away as you scoot even closer, molding your side to his.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper quietly, shocking him into compliance as you gently loop your arm through his, pulling it to your chest as your chin finds its perch on his shoulder.

“For what?”

“Making you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not that talented.” If he is going to do this, might as well be now. Stars, he loves the feeling of your arms around his, of you pressed against every inch of his side, grounding him. But it wasn’t his to enjoy. “I’m not uncomfortable. Just think this is a karking waste of time.”

Leaning away from you, Crosshair tries to jerk his arm out of your grasp. But you surprise him with your strength as you lay claim to the limb, making it clear to you both that he’s not going anywhere.

You tug gently on him, tucking your head slightly to catch his gaze. “Then I’m sorry for wasting your time. I just really wanted to bring you here.”

He buries his confusion, unwilling to open that door without knowing he could close and lock it tight. “That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid. Leave is rare, and when we do get it, it’s too short. I wanted you guys to make the most of this one, at least, since we weren’t too far away. Because you deserve to sleep in a bed in a room of your own without needing to wake up and take a night shift. Because you deserve a hot shower — a real one, not sonic — without a time limit. Rejecting all that is stupid, Cross.” You’re practically lecturing him, your voice strong as you look at him incredulously.  

You keep his gaze for a beat of silence before dropping it. Crosshair feels his lips moving, ready to refute your rather ridiculous nat-born assertions, but you cut him off, your voice dropping to almost a whisper, wavering in a way he’d never heard from you before.

“But there are other reasons, too, ya know? Selfish reasons. Because there’s no better cook in the galaxy than my dad. Because my mom has been begging to meet you for months and I’ve been distracting her on every holocall to save you from that fate. Because I got to meet your family and see where you came from. Your past. Got to see everything that made you, you. I wanted to show you mine.”

His arm is finally freed as your hands drop to your lap, eyes following the movement. He can see the nervous twitch of your fingers as you mindlessly toy with the fabric of your pants. Looking up to study your face, his eyes trail over the curve of your cheek where your eyelashes rested, your gaze still cast down.

“I won’t say sorry for wanting that. But I am sorry for whatever I did that sent you out here.”

Oh.

His chest feels like it’s ready to collapse in on itself again, more intensely this time. And there’s only one word he can think as he reaches out to direct your face to his, as his fingers skim the smooth skin of your cheek, as his eyes meet yours, hoping they convey that one word as yours scream your uncertainty:

Precious.

“You didn’t do anything. I don’t fit here.”

There it is. Simple. Easy. Delivered in his signature gruff tone that erased the hurt it took for him to say them, to accept them.

“Do I fit here?” You ask, tilting your head slightly, almost daring him to say no. A gesture so adorable and infuriating at the same time it makes his blood boil … for better and worse. Outwardly, though, all it earns is a roll of his eyes.

“You always ask such dumb questions?”

“Only in response to dumb statements.” You shoot back, response at the ready as the pair of you fall seemlessly into your natural rhythm.

He narrows his eyes. “Nothin’ dumb about it, doll. Not my scene.”

You shake your head, a small playful smile teasing your lips. He knows that smile means nothing but trouble and he can’t afford any more of that. Still, Crosshair can’t help but play along. I really am a coward.

“Well, if I belong here, then so do you.”

Just as simple. Just as easy. But it can’t be.

“That’s not—”

“It is,” you interrupt, leaning impossibly closer. “And if there’s somewhere you don’t feel comfortable, then I don’t belong there, either.”

Maybe he is a weak man. Because against all logic and instinct, when you tuck your head under his chin and curl up against him, Crosshair can’t do anything other than pull you firmly into his arms and hold you tight against him.

A stronger man would be able to keep a healthy distance. But you don’t seem to mind this weakness. And Maker knows he can only fight his own selfishness for so long.

“I belong with you, and you with me. Don’t forget that, okay?”

Your lips moving against the delicate skin of his neck sends shivers down his spine and you, likely thinking it’s from the cold, press further unto him. The ghost of a laugh at your sweet misunderstanding coats his lips before they press into the hair at the top of your head.

“Okay.”

#CFB2023 #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair x f!reader #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #don't forget that #clonexreaderbingo #clone x reader

[lovelybarnes]

aquariums and dogs- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: bucky is mad, reader flinches, hurt/comfort? some angst, definitely me projecting about: request! pf20 (too long hugs) + da7 (why did you flinch?")

an uncomfortable warmth prickles at bucky’s skin, the key in between his fingers cooling in speckles only up to his wrist before it dusts away. something low and frustrated crawls up his throat when he turns the key but doesn’t hear the click, stubbornly choosing to push at the door anyway, as if daring it to make due on its threat.

it does.

he rolls his eyes, exhaling sharply through his nose as he jabs the key inside again, too rough, and it misses by a millimeter, leaving a scrape on the dark lock. with a sigh edged with a growl, he goes to try again, but the door swings open to you, confusion lining your features until they reach his.

“bucky!” you exclaim. it’s sweet and happy, your eyes bright. “you’re finally home.”

he grunts out your name in a terse greeting, pushing past the doorframe to get inside. you wait for the kiss he usually plants on your skin, brows joining when he only moves past you. you don’t say anything, shutting the door behind him.

“how was your day?” you ask.

“fine,” he answers curtly, avoiding your eyes. but you’re kind, too kind for him, and you frown, concern evident as you speak but don’t push. he shoves at the bag he dumps on the floor next to the couch with his foot.

“okay.” you bite your lip. “how was the new recruit? i know you weren’t excited about it but it’s never that bad.”

“fine,” he responds.

there are two little dips between your eyebrows, chin ducking. your eyes glaze a little in the way they do when you’re trying to figure something out—figure him out. it’s usually sweet, normally comforting the way you know him so well, but it presses on something sore in him today. it’s gone quickly enough that he can hold his tongue, be fair.

as if thanks to a switch, your face changes after a second, pinched features softening, the pulling urge to pry gone. you’ve figured it out.

“i went to the aquarium today again.” you’re talking for the both of you. it’s something he likes, usually. your voice is something grounding, rambling sweet enough to distract him so well he forgets his bad day. “they know me now. i’m a regular at the aquarium, can you believe it?”

he doesn’t answer. but he doesn’t usually.

“tony got me a pass for it last week. did i tell you?” you aren’t expecting an answer, but bucky feels annoyed at the pressure of the lilt in the question. “he lectured me about paying each time i go to his aquarium. his! sure, he owns it, but i doubt he can identify any of the animals.”

bucky’s face feels uncomfortable and hot, breaths coming out heavy as he tries to block out your voice. he reminds himself he loves you, you’re only trying to help. he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but the heat of his skin reddens his vision and blurs rational thought.

“i saw a golden retriever at the dog park and it came up to me. the owner introduced himself and now we have a walking buddy!”

“great.” it’s sarcastic, something worsening instead of getting better. but the vein of its cruelty is buried deep inside and you don’t seem to notice, taking the rise of his voice as improvement. it encourages you.

“tomorrow’s my last day off. i’m glad nat convinced me to take the last two even if i was feeling better. maybe this convinces me to retire.” it’s a joke and you laugh, but it ticks him off as much as he doesn’t want it to. your voice is still soft but it feels too much like the gross side of honey, trapping oxygen in his throat and coating his teeth in nectar.

“i found a new recipe—the one i told you about last week, and i finally stopped procrastinating and—”

“stop,” bucky demands roughly, cutting you off. it’s not loud, but its surprising sternness reaches into the crevices of the room, his frustration carrying weight. nearly threatening, curt, demanding. bucky doesn’t speak to you that way.

you stop immediately, freezing in place. the moment he catches sight of your widened eyes, large pupils glued to the floor, he wants to stop, to cool down and take a deep breath, but the honey has deprived him of oxygen for a little too long. “can you please—” his mouth contorts in an ugly attempt to calm himself down. “just be quiet? i’m tired. i had a long day, i don’t need to hear about stupid aquariums and dogs.” his words get more rushed as he continues, low in something threatening you’ve never heard before.

he watches your parted lips as you breathe, caught in surprise before you suddenly remember he was talking to you, and you nod your head a little, chin bobbing and an apology tumbling from your lips as if on instinct.

“i’m sorry, yeah.” you’re trying to part your anger and your anxiety, but the latter seems to win anyway. you swallow, struggling to meet his eyes, and let air out through your nose, long and shuddering as you turn. you’re stiff as you grab your phone, walking toward the hallway. “if you need anything…” you stop yourself as if remembering how grating your voice seems to be for him right now, biting your lip to keep back more of the kindness you found so vital.

you step away without another word, leaving bucky in silence and a sick self-satisfaction with it. his shoulders drop and he closes his eyes, sighing deeply. it doesn’t take long for the fulfillment to feel sour, his mind glimpsing back to the contortion of your features.

soon, it envelops him in something sweaty and awful, his frustration clearing away to miss the loveliness of your presence, of your sweet rambles and excerpts of your day.

he feels foul, the words he’d spat feeling like venom on his tongue. 

running a hand over his face, he squeezes his eyes shut, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. he curses under his breath, the guilt all-encompassing and he’s ready to beg on his knees for your forgiveness.

he lugs himself to his feet, lips tensing when he glances at the cookies you left on a plate for him. he plucks one with care, placing it in his palm before heading to your shared room. his free hand tries to be gentle when it knocks on the door, falling away when he pushes it open without meaning to. he calls your name softly in the dark silence of the room, watching the shadows of the thin curtains dance against the floor.

your figure is nowhere to be seen. it makes him nervous.

he steps backward and stares at the door for a second, thinking logically before giving in to his hyperactive, guilty mind. he turns nearly robotically but it’s hurried in a soft panic, knocking on the guest door. he finds himself hoping you aren’t in there, somehow blanketed by the darkness in your shared room, but your shuffling and subsequent opening of the door crush the unlikely hope. your eyes are rimmed red, lashes wet, and the way you stare up at him is hard, only wavering by your glossy eyes.

“i’m sorry,” spills out of his mouth, wanting to push the crack of the door wider but instead he settles with apologetic eyes and tapping his tingly fingers anxiously against his leg. “i had a long day and i shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“no you shouldn’t have,” you finally say. his lips twist when he hears the gravel of past tears. “i was only trying to help. if you had just told me you needed silence, i would’ve left you in silence.”

“i know.” he sighs. “i know, i’m sorry.’

he can hear the toe of your foot as you push it against the floor, your sniff of decision as you push open the door. something rumbles from deep in his chest, relieved as he opens his arms and pulls you into his embrace. he apologizes again against your hair, rubbing his nose against the crown of your head. you dig your own into the warm crook of his neck.

like butter, the hard weight of his bad day softens atop his shoulders, the soft exhale he lets out much lighter. he thinks he should have just asked you for a hug.

“i forgive you,” you mumble. “just don’t do that again.”

“i won’t,” he promises.

-

he has another long day a week later. it’s particularly taxing after the sweet days he’s had beforehand, where he’s repeated the importance to be patient like a mantra, even when it isn’t needed. it’s important enough for him to not forget but the possibility of it makes him nervous.

he steps on your welcome mat heavier than he was in the morning, staring at the familiar grain of your door, the angry haze familiar. it serves to ground, if even for a second, and he remembers to breathe.

you’re inside, he recalls, with your soft skin and gentle smile. he feels better when he remembers it.

he’s still gloomy when he enters, but it’s different, mediated. he wants to hear your voice so he doesn’t float away like a balloon, lost in the wide expanse of encompassing exhaustion.

he feels your eyes momentarily on him when he shoves off his boots at the entrance. he shuts his eyes and frowns at the long ache it comes with, as if he hadn’t done so in hours. a grunt slips past his lips. the chime of your voice when you chirp your hello eases something inside him.

“how was your day?” you ask from behind the wall of the kitchen, your attention on something in your hands.

“not good,” he tells you, bending down to push off the boot that won’t come off.

you look up from your candy wrapper, eyeing him worriedly. “i’m sorry.” you’re more tentative now, lips parted as if you want to say something more but decide against it. he can tell what it is, though.

he walks over to the kitchen and gives you a smile, albeit tight, reaching to take the candy from your fingers. with little issue, he tears a small triangle from a corner, handing it back. it’s an assurance, an olive branch for something that will never happen again.

“bought some more?” he asks. it’s quiet and rough but it tells you what he means it to.

you’re trying not to eye him too carefully as you nod. “saw that dog on my way to the store.” there’s something hesitant in your tone that he doesn’t like, holding you back, but a small smile makes its way to your face when you continue. “he recognized duck and i before his owner could, i think. we were on our way to the—” you stop suddenly.

it’s a moment before bucky offers a conclusion, “the aquarium?”

it’s not said meanly, but you tense up as if he’d meant it like so either way. only for a second, a slight flinch before your fingers dance as if in a reminder to send movement back up to your limbs. bucky is horrified.

“why did you flinch?” it’simmediate but hesitant.

your lips twist to the side, socked feet tapping the floor silently. “sorry.”

he repeats himself, eyes wide. he steps toward you but stutters to a halt.

“aquariums and dogs are stupid. i didn’t—sorry.”

“they’re not stupid,” bucky assures. “you like them and i love hearing about them.”

“i talk about that all the time. you must be tired. ‘have more important things to talk about.” you wring your hands together. gently, bucky separates them. you smooth your pants down with sweaty palms.

“i don’t want to talk right now,” bucky admits kindly. “i want to listen to you. anything you want to talk about.” then, “including aquariums and dogs.”

you look up at him through your lashes. “i don’t want to annoy you.”

“y’couldn’t,” bucky tells you honestly. “can i hug you?”

you dump yourself in his arms before you can finish nodding. “i’m sorry you had a bad day,” you say, muffled in his shirt.

he mumbles something like not your fault into your hair, before pulling away to look at you. “so what’d you see at the aquarium?”

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