#( I’m sorry to keep bringing this up. it’s just haunting me. I can’t get anything done. )

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 1)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Arguing, and Name Calling

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Five years later, Rafe makes an unplanned stop at a diner that reveals a secret that Y/N has been keeping from him.

Masterlist

Y/N wipes the counter with a clean rag, looking up at the clock across the wall. Three more hours until Stella is dropped off from daycare. “If you think rubbing that spot over and over again will make a genie appear and you can wish for her to be here faster, then I’m sorry to say that you are going to be disappointed,” Harvey jokes, following her gaze to the clock. She stops cleaning, “Sorry, I just miss her so much. I think I’m PMSing.” “Sure, we can blame it on your period,” he laughs. Y/N pushes him over in annoyance, escaping to her back office to hopefully make the time go faster. 

She smiles at the picture of the grandma on the desk, settling on her chair to order more inventory. Her life plans weren’t exactly to take over the diner, yet it’s not like she was planning on having a baby at twenty either. Y/N was left the diner in her grandma’s will and she took it so that it could stay in the family. There are no regrets in either of those decisions. Sure, she didn’t get her big break in LA or New York, but she would never dream of trading her daughter for anything in the world. Stella Y/L/N is the light of her life, even if she is the spinning image of her dad. Stella is all Y/N’s and that’s all that matters. She may have Rafe’s eyes, but she has Y/N’s sense of humour. Her lips are the same as his, but she loves the same movies as her mom. Her hair colour may match his, but she also has the same bad habit of biting her nails as her mom. 

Y/N focuses on the words on her screen when Harvey comes running into her office. “A total hunk just came into the restaurant and I have been ordered by Patty to come get you. She thinks he can be your soulmate. Says to let you take his table,” he informs, pointing behind him with his thumb. Y/N shakes her head, “I’m the owner. I really should be the one telling you to take tables, but I won’t disappoint Patty. I’ll be out in a second.” Harvey nods and heads back out to check on his customers. She finishes up the order she was working on, fixing her shirt before heading out the door. 

The sound of a door opening draws Rafe’s attention and his heart stops at the scent of vanilla he hasn’t smelt in five years. Even if it was only one night, he has been haunted by the wearer of that scent for years. His eyes land on her and he can’t believe he gets to see her again. Her smile is still as brilliant. Y/N heads behind the counter to get an apron and his insides collapse in on himself as he watches her smile dim at his sight. He doesn’t know why she would be upset at him. She was the one who left in the morning without a word. Suddenly, the face on his watch needs to be constantly adjusted.

As Y/N exits her office, she has to stop herself from screaming at the man sitting in the booth. She could never forget him; a living reminder of him literally came out of her vagina almost four years ago. Fear creeps into her brain. The only possible reason he could be here after all these years is because of that living reminder.  With the resources he has, he would most certainly win custody over Stella and Y/N couldn’t allow that to happen. But maybe he doesn’t know about her. If he did, then wouldn’t it make more sense to bring a lawyer with him? She decides to find out why he is really here first before she goes on the defence as she walks over to take his order.  

“What are you doing here?” she grits through bared teeth. He gives her a confused look, “I had a meeting with clients. I thought I would stop to get something to eat before heading back to the Outer Banks.”

Her expression lightens up at his words. “So you aren’t here to see me?” His head moves from side to side, “No. I mean that night was amazing, but I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I’m just hungry.” He notices that her eyes keep glancing towards the clock and the nail of her thumb is being gripped by her teeth. He wonders why she looks so worried all of a sudden. 

“Okay, good. I mean cool. What can I get you? A burger? Salad? Pie?” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, Buttercup. Why are you in such a rush? Aren’t you going to get my drink order first?”

“Right. Of course. What can I get you to drink?”

“A coffee, please.” 

Rafe had never seen a woman run away from him so fast before and he has got to say that he is offended. He doesn’t know what he did to garner such a reaction from her, but he vows to make it up to her. His hand goes up to his mouth, so he can check his breath. Smells fine. The mug of coffee is quickly placed in front of him and she practically forces him to give her his food order right at this second. 

Y/N hands the order to Patty in the kitchen, “Pat, I need you to focus on this order, please. Get it out first and as fast as you can.” The older woman’s eyebrow shoots up. “That’s a little unusual, but I can do that for you, honey. Can you watch the other food then for me, please?” she asks. Y/N does as asks and makes sure the chicken tenders in the fryer don’t burn. Patty gets Rafe’s food done in a jiffy and Y/N takes it out to him. She stays behind the counter, looking between the clock and Rafe eating every so often. She swears she has never seen someone eat so slowly. He has to be doing this on purpose. He can feel her gaze on him and he has pieced together that something must be coming that she doesn’t want him to see. His curiosity gets the best of him, so he decides to make this lunch last.

The jingle of a bell above the door catches his attention. He turns to see a little girl run into the diner and round the counter to the woman standing behind it. “Mommy,” she screams, jumping into Y/N’s arms. With a clear view of the girl now that she is being carried by her mom, Rafe can now see her in more detail. 

The long locks that frame her face are the same muddy blonde colour as his. Her eyes match his ocean-blue ones. And she definitely inherited the shape of his lips. He tries to do the math in his head. He isn’t great at guessing kids’ age. She looks about three, maybe four. So four years plus the ten months of pregnancy, that child is almost certainly his. He feels like his world is falling in on itself. How could he not know that he had a little girl? Did she know she had a daddy? He promised himself if he ever had a kid that they would never feel the same way about him as he does about his dad. But he did one step worse by not even being in his daughter’s life. Anger starts to fill him and he knows he needs to find a way to manage it before he lets it out on the wrong person. 

“Stells, what are you doing back so early?” Y/N questions her grinning daughter, moving the hair out of the girl’s face. She nods along to the explanation about daycare ending early today, so Mrs. Winters dropped her off early. Her eyes are focused on Rafe and she watches as he pieces the puzzle together. She observes as he slaps money onto the table, quickly making his exit. “Shit,” the mother whispers. “Can you go to my office, please? Mommy will bring you a snack, baby.” Y/N makes sure Stella is making her way to the office before running after Rafe. Her feet slap against the concrete and she spots him entering his truck. She goes to chase after him, but he drives off in a blink of an eye.  

——

He had a daughter. He had a little girl that he could cherish and watch grow that she kept a secret from him. He doesn’t even know their daughter’s name. His anger fills him to the brim and he needs an outlet to get rid of it. The white powder in the small baggies calls to him, so he rushes to his coffee table. He draws the cocaine into lines and brings his nose down to snort the powder. The drugs start to affect him; his judgement starts to be clouded. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to dial a number, “Barry, I need you to find an address for me.”

——

“So how was daycare, Stella?” Y/N questions her daughter, cutting up a cucumber for a snack. Stella runs up to the counter, “It was good, Mommy. I got a rainbow sticker for being a good girl.” The girl pulls at the front of her shirt to show off the sticker on it. “That’s great, Baby. You must have worked hard today to be a good girl. I’m proud of the effort you put in. Now, why don’t you go get ready for your snack? Mommy is almost done getting everything ready,” she suggests, moving on to get the cheese cut. Stella yells an okay and runs to the bathroom. 

The hard knock on the door reverberates around the open floor plan of the small house. This stops Y/N in her tracks and she goes to answer the door. When she sees who it is, she tries to shut the door in his face, but his foot stops her. “How come you didn’t tell me I had a daughter?” he growls, pushing his way into her house. His force causes her to stumble backwards and luckily, she is able to catch herself before she falls on her bum like on the night they first met. She shuts the door, turning toward him, “I was going to tell you. But by the time I found out I was pregnant, I had already learnt the type of person you truly were.” 

“The type of person I truly was? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Can you keep your voice down, please? She is just down the hall.”

“What do you mean?” he snarls, approaching her so they are chest to chest. The dark look in his eyes and the towering figure over her should’ve scared her. She can see the abnormal size of his pupils, so she knows he is high. However, she can’t stop thinking about the man that she met. Not about the stories of his anger issues or how he beats people to a pulp. Not about how he not only does cocaine but sells it at parties too. All she can see is the man who lost his button and ranted about how his father is an asshole. Passing the anger of her hiding Stella, she can see the sadness he feels about missing out on her life so far. Yet, the fact that he shows up at her house, high and yelling while Stella is there causes her to feel her own fury as her maternal side starts to show. 

She stands straight, taking a few steps forward that makes him walk backwards, “What do I mean? I mean that I found out that you not only do drugs, but you sell them. I found out that you beat people up who aren’t in the same financial circle as you. I found out that you have anger issues that you don’t seem to want to change. Rafe, you weren’t the type of father I wanted for my daughter.” Seeing such a sweet person say all those vile but true things about him sends a pang through his heart. 

“You never gave me a chance to change! I would’ve done anything for her if I knew she existed.” 

“Really? Because from where I’m standing right now, you are proving me right. Look what you did when you found out about her. You didn’t try to talk to me like an adult. You went out and got high then barged into my house demanding answers.” 

“You know what? All of you bitches are the same. You think that you are so much better than everyone because you don’t do drugs or get angry. Well let me tell you something, you are just a poor slut who got pregnant on purpose to have a permanent cash cow. You aren’t better than me. You are just better at hiding it than me.”

The volume she was about to talk at was not one she had ever used before, but she wasn’t about to let him talk about her or her daughter like that. “GET OUT! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN UNLESS YOU HAVE A LAWYER WITH YOU!” She storms toward the door and throws the door open. Rafe didn’t think someone with such a nice personality could be so loud. It helps bring him back to reality and he realizes what he just did. His shoulders relax with his anger. He looks at her sadly as he follows her pointed finger out of the door.

Y/N shuts it once he is out the door. She runs her fingers through her hair, giving a tug to the end of her roots. The frustrated sigh she lets out is the only sound in the room until a small voice catches her attention. “Mommy, are you okay?” Y/N turns to her teary-eyed daughter and concern floods through her. She rushes to her, bringing her up to rest against her hip. Her forehead rests against the younger girl’s temple, “I’m okay, Stells. Mommy isn’t hurt, just angry. Are you okay, Baby? I know hearing Mommy yell might have been scary. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” Stella’s arms circle her mother’s shoulders and she gives her mother a kiss on the cheek as comfort. “I’m okay, Mommy. The scary man is gone now. Who was he?” 

Y/N wishes she could pretend like there was no man, but Stella had obviously seen Rafe. There is no denying it. Y/N just has no idea who she wants Rafe to be to her daughter. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii

#a new kind of normal #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks rafe #outer banks fanfiction #obx #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fanfic

[sanjimi]

my past haunts me, but i'm forever yours.

sanji x gn!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of daddy issues, alluded abusive home, angsty but not because of sanji, reader is scared of falling in love, sort of suggestive but not too suggestive.

calloused fingers brush against the skin of your shoulder. you sit there silently, and he observes. 

sanji has gotten used to your behavior—sometimes you were distant, separated.

“is everything alright, darling?” he still asks every time, despite always getting the same answer. 

it makes your heart warm, but even now you still feel empty. you don’t want to get attached, you don’t want to trust him. trusting leads to eventual disappointment and heartbreak. you knew this well. 

nonetheless, you somehow find the energy to reply in a hum. 

“m’ fine, sanji.”

he loved the way you said his name, even when you were lying. 

sanji brushes your hair out of your face and tucks a finger under your chin, making you look up at him. 

“you hardly touched your food,” he says softly, a hint of concern in his voice. is it real concern? you do not know. “everyone’s already gone back.” 

you realize you’ve been staring into his eyes a while, and you avert your gaze, pulling away from him.

he was right. the rest of the crew had scarfed down their dinners long ago, leaving you to sit at the table alone while sanji did the dishes. they say something about slow eating and trauma response, but you try not to pay any mind to it. you were fine. you had to be. even if chopper has been giving you worried looks all week and zoro keeps a watchful eye on you when you walk down the stairs. even if usopp and luffy notice you didn’t goof off with them this morning, and nami and robin notice that you toss and turn all night. even if sanji's been asking you the same question every day for the past month.

“i’m just not very hungry. i’m sorry, the food is really good i just… i can’t eat right now.” you look up hesitantly, afraid of backlash. he doesn't yell, he doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t force you to eat. he just nods and picks up the plate, turning to the kitchen and putting it away. 

“i’ll wrap it up for you and we can eat later.”

we. he always says we.

“darling?” he repeats the sweet name he decided to call you. “sweetheart, please talk to me.”

when had anyone ever cared for you like this before you joined the crew?

“i…” you start, and he perks up to listen. “i’m fine, i promise.” you try to smile, and laugh lightly. its hard to laugh. you have a hard time getting the words out, but he drinks in everything with complete and utter patience, despite knowing you are lying to his face. had anyone ever been so patient before?

sanji’s fingers find your hand that rests atop the table. his thumb traces the knuckles on your hand. “is there anything i can do?” he asks gently, ignoring the lie. your heart hurts. 

“please don’t.” you pull away from him again. always running, always pulling away. “don’t. you don’t need to do anything.”

he sighs and turns your chair towards him. you try to get up and leave, but he grabs your hands and kneels on the floor below you. he kisses your palms, then brings them up to cup his face and holds them there. 

“please let me care for you.”

his eyes search your face. you sit there, staring at him. you want to pull your hands away, you want to run away and lock the door so you can hide. away from him. away from his prying gaze. away from how he makes your heart burn and feel hopeful because what else can you do when those warm eyes look at you and ask for permission to give you the world? 

do you really want to run away? you run your thumb across his cheekbone. do you really want to, or is that the coward inside of you telling you to push people away? 

“i- i can’t-” your voice shakes, and his hands tighten over your own. you can’t pull away, even if you tried. you suck in a breath.

“i know how this will end. you’ll leave or- or you’ll stop loving me or… or…” you trail off and finally look him in the eye. finally, you let your vulnerability show. “i don’t want to end up like them.” the sentence is said in a whisper, your voice threatening to crack if you let it grow any louder. 

who could have been the cause of this fear? of course, none other than the people who raised you and gave you your name. your parents, with their artificial love that echoed on the walls of your home and made you suffocate until you finally stepped outside. but then you realized you’re still suffocating, everywhere you go. 

you suffocate when you’re sitting alone in your bed on this pirate ship, thousands of miles away from your childhood home. you suffocate when you are at the market, when you sleep. when you eat, when you cry. even when you're around others, you feel alone. 

but why is it that when you’re with him, you can feel a release of the pressure on your throat? could he really be relieving you? or… what if he’s just going to hold you under until you suffocate to death? 

“y/n.”

his voice calling your name is what brings you back to earth. his hands on your skin, he turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrist this time. 

“i don’t ever, ever want to do that to you.” his tone is sincere, his words clear in your head. “please let me help you.” his request comes again, and you feel your heart ache once more. 

you don’t want to say yes. to agree to this outrageous request. how could he expect that of you? but then again… maybe you actually do. how nice it would be to say yes. if you said yes, would the pain go away? the fear?

your body defies you as you nod, wordlessly agreeing to his request. 

he smiles. warm and sweet like the feeling of sitting by the fireplace and drinking hot tea. 

he trails his hands to your thighs, then your waist. he kneads your skin, thumbs pressing small circles into the pain that had settled there over the years. he pulls you up to your feet, one hand now cupping your cheek and the other wrapped around your waist. he leans forward, then stops. his nose gently touching your own, you realize he’s giving you one more chance to run away. 

do you really want this? love is hard. love is breakable. love fades. it hurts. wouldn’t it be easier to just be alone? 

he presses his forehead to your own and brushes his nose on yours. one more chance. will you crawl back into your shell? 

a flash of bravery, and you close your eyes, then lean forward. suddenly, the world didn’t seem so bad. 

soft lips pressed against your own and you’re enveloped in the scent of smoke and rain and warmth—did warmth even have a scent? it must. it smells like sanji. 

kissing him is easy. suddenly all the fears of falling drift away and you’re welcomed with the feeling of something soft at your feet, in your hands, surrounding your body. his hands travel around you and are now on your back, making you arch into him. slowly, as though not to startle you, he pulls away. you chase after his lips. 

he smiles, looking into your eyes and he holds you close. a small smile forms on your lips and he kisses you again. 

you should’ve known. loving him is easier. much, much easier than pushing him away. pushing everything away. it feels like the hands on your throat pushing down have been burnt up, now replaced by lips sucking his name into your skin. 

a small sound escapes you, and you feel the curve of his smile against your throat. his fingers dance at the edge of your shirt, slipping under and pressing against your bare skin. his hands are warm as they tear you limb from limb, pulling you apart and putting you back together. 

yes. maybe loving him was easier. 

is this a cry for help? maybe. anyway, i wish we all had a sanji

#sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece x reader #opla x reader #one piece x you #sanji x you #x reader #x you #sanji fluff #hurt/comfort #✰ one piece

[frenchkisstheabyss]

☾ Wild Horses ☽

☾ Pairing: boyfriend!bang chan x reader

☾ Genre: angst & fluff all stirred up in a pot

☾ Summary: Your boyfriend comforts you when your depression sneaks up on you during a night out with friends.

☾ Word Count: 924

☾ Warnings: themes of depression/mental illness and the feelings that can come along with them

☾ A/N: I wrote this because having depression has led to a lot of loneliness for me lately and I needed some comfort. I hope that by sharing this someone else having similar thoughts/feelings to mine might find a little comfort too 🖤

☾ "No sweeping exits or offstage lines could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind and wild horses couldn't drag me away" - The Sundays, Wild Horses

People can’t imagine what you go through. It’s not a case of bad nerves or run-of-the-mill sadness. Too often you’ve found yourself sitting alone wishing that you could find the words to make them understand that depression is so much more than that. Depression is a parasite that’s wormed its way into your brain wholly consuming you.

The consumption’s gradual sometimes, ravenous at others, but exhausting all the same, stealing little bits of you that you aren’t quite sure how to get back. Everyone says, “I hope you feel better. Hang in there. Keep your chin up” but it’s not simple. And maybe they mean well, maybe that’s all they can say because they don’t know how to fix it, but it only makes you feel lonelier.

The thing is, you’ve never wanted anyone to fix it. You don’t need bandaids to cover the bullet holes in your heart. You just want someone to hold your hand through the pain. It’s why the tiniest flame ignites in the darkness that haunts you when the kind, comfort of Chan’s mahogany eyes lock onto yours, honing in on the most vulnerable parts of you.

“I know sometimes you feel like you have to pretend you’re okay,” he says, the warmth of his palms shielding your cheeks from the autumn breeze, “But you don’t have to do that with me. I’m here for you no matter what. You know that, yeah?” You nod, sucking back tears as you notice the small group of late-night partiers crossing over to your side of the street.

With your back to the wall of a closed restaurant not too far from the club you just left, it’s impossible not to be nervous about the faces that pass you by. Even with Chan somewhat obscuring the view, your stomach churns at the possibility that people might see you falling apart like this. “Hey, look at me” Chan whispers, using the sleeve of his black hoodie to catch the tears that drip down your cheeks like water from a leaky faucet.

The gentle act brings your attention back to him. He cracks a tight-lipped smile, happy to have you back with him. “Don’t worry about them. Come here.” He takes you into his arms, offering you his shoulder to rest your head on. You accept the invitation, nuzzling against him to bathe in the comfort and safety that comes with his embrace. There’s a woodsy scent to his cologne that feels like stargazing by a campfire at night. It puts you at ease. Everything about him does.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your night” you sniffle, playing with one of the strings that dangles from his hood. Tucking his hands under your jacket, he massages your lower back, soothing the tension coiled around your spine. “Baby, you could never ruin my night. The guys were too busy drinking to notice anything and even if they did, who cares? You’re what matters to me.” The emotion in his voice leaves no doubt that he means it wholeheartedly.

You are what matters most to him in this moment and the next. It means nothing to him that a night out at some club had to be cut short because the mask you put on to conceal your pain had begun to crumble, the synthetic laughter and forced smiles becoming too much to maintain. Chan gets it, hiding behind a mask with a happy face painted on it, he does it sometimes too but he doesn't want that for you. He’d rather be out here with you baring this beautiful, teary-eyed face of yours than in there where you feel the need to hide.

“I just,” you take a deep breath, slightly trembling at the truth about to roll off your tongue, “I’m afraid I’ll scare you away one day.” “Scare me? Do I look like I scare easily?” he asks, putting on a brave face the way that a child might. It gets a weak giggle out of you, even at times like this he knows how to get to you in the best way. “No, but I know there are times when things get really dark for me and I can get so lost in it...” He kisses you on the nose, a cute little wet one that turns icy when the wind blows across your face.

“As long as I’m here, and I always will be, you’ll never get lost in it,” he promises, “I know I can’t drag you out of it but you can always call me and I’ll come running in after you.” You need time. A second or two, maybe even a minute, to take in what’s been said. He gives it to you, patiently rocking you in his arms as he lets you process it in silence. A year into your relationship and it still feels strange to be loved in the moments where you feel most broken.

Chest to chest, his heart beats in sync with yours, reminding you that, even in the absence of words, you're cared for. “Where’d you come from?” you ask, fingers tracing the contour of his jaw. “Sydney. Don’t tell me you’re just noticing the accent” he teases, summoning his best pouty face for extra effect. He gets another giggle out of you, still faint with an air of sadness but he’ll take it.

Chan hugs you tighter, kissing your fingertips. “I love you” he whispers. You close your eyes, letting the world around you fade away and your insecurities with it. “Love you too.”

#bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan angst #bang chan fluff #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #bang chan x gender neutral reader #stray kids x gender neutral reader

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

summary: sometimes the past haunts us

masterlist

      - I just don’t agree with it. 

Those words were the ones she feared the most. After sweating and crying over a draft of her thesis, one of her supervisors just threw the papers on the desk with as much disdain as someone could muster, without as much of an ounce of mercy. She stared at the papers on the desk, attempting to hide her watering eyes. She shouldn’t be crying, she had been expecting criticism but not an overall dismissal of 4 years of work. 

      - I’m gonna be honest, Y/N. After 4 years, I didn’t expect to read this sort of work from you. I don’t think we can actually pass this, Y/N. How would you defend this? 

      - I ... I can rewrite it. 

      - I honestly do not see it getting any better with a rewrite, Y/N. I’m still waiting on feedback from your other supervisor but I wouldn’t be too hopeful.

She didn’t know what to say, there were really no words or anything she could say right now that wouldn’t downright embarrass her. Her eyes were fully watered as she looked around the countless awards in her supervisor’s office. She used to think she’d once own as many, now she wasn’t as sure. 

     - We may have to keep you another year. 

     - But I’m not sure I have enough to cover costs for another yea ... - she stopped mid sentence as her phone started to buzz against her thigh. Looking down at the screen, she saw the all caps name of Sadie’s daycare. - I’m sorry, that’s my baby’s daycare. 

She gave her supervisor a loop smile, bringing her phone to her ear only to hear a bunch of nonsense coming from the other side which could only roughly translate into how much they needed her to come down. Perfect, just perfect. 

     - I’m sorry, I need to go check on my baby. 

     - You know, Y/N, it may be time for you to check what your priorities are. 

     - I’m sorry, I’d ask her dad but he’s stuck in back to back meetings. I’m so sorry, I can’t leave her. 

     - We’ll schedule a meeting once your other supervisor is back. 

     - Thank you.

She rushed out of the campus and onto her car, drying her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper before driving down to Sadie’s school. Last thing she needed was parents commenting on her red eyes and blotchy skin, it was hard enough knowing her supervisor had seen her like this. Yet again, she wasn’t even sure that was the last thing she wanted as she walked into the dean’s office and found Sadie sitting in one of the kiddie chairs with a band aid on her knee and a crying face. Y/N didn’t know what was more disturbing, if her baby girl crying or Michelle sitting down with her snooty son. 

     - Oh, Y/N, it’s you. - she looked her up and down. 

     - Come on, darling. - Y/N ignored Michelle, leaning down to Sadie’s level. The little girl wrapped her arms around her, burying her head in Y/N’s hair. - Who else would it be, Michelle? 

     - I’m so sorry to call you in. It seems my boy got in a tussle with Sadie.

    - Sure, a tussle. My kid has a bandaid on her knee and yours looks just peachy to me. 

    - She’s not your kid, Y/N. She’s Bucky’s or have you forgotten?

    - Sure. - she rolled her eyes. - So what is it that you want Michelle? You want us to sort this out or you wanna flirt with my kid’s dad?

    - Just wanted to make sure Sadie was okay. 

    - She’ll be fine. 

Y/N really had better things to do other than deal with Michelle and her eagerness to see Bucky. Right now she was worried about Sadie who was following right after her, arms wrapped around her leg as she enjoyed the swing back and forward. Y/N always knew Michelle’s kid was no good and she wouldn’t be surprised if his mother even trained him to hurt Sadie so she could see James - although, that was the most irrational part of her speaking. 

     - Come here, squid. - Y/N leaned down to pick the 2 year old so she could place her safely in her car seat. - Did the nurse look at your knee? 

     - Yes. I gots the red band thingie, see. - she pointed at her knee. 

     - It’s a band-aid, Sissi. - Y/N clasped the buckles. - You’re being very brave.

     - Can I watch Bluey? 

     - Alright but we can’t tell dad I let you use the tablet on the car, yeah? It’ll be our secret. 

    - Pinky? - she showed her au pair her pinky which just seemed to brighten her whole day. She nodded, wrapping her own pinky around hers before grabbing the IPad. 

Truth was, she was glad her irritation at Michelle had made her forget of the terrible time she’d had at university. Sure, she was probably gonna raise some hell at the next PTA meeting, however, right now what Sadie needed was time and some happy things. As such, she turned left where she should’ve taken right, coming across the small park. Soon enough, the IPad playing Bluey was forgotten in the car as Sadie joined other kids in the playground, while Y/N took it upon herself to join the other mums on the benches watching over their own kids. It was peaceful, the sound of the kids laughter meshed with the sounds of the wind brushing through the trees and the birds chirping. It was nice, at least it was until her phone started ringing. It came as no surprise it was Bucky, Michelle had probably personally called him to somehow explain how her snooty kid hurt his daughter. 

    - Hello. - she said as she picked up the phone. 

    - Is Sadie alright? I got a call from her kindergarten saying some kid pushed her. 

    - She’s fine, Bucky. Scratch on her knee but she seems to have forgotten it’s even there. 

    - Are you sure? I can get out of work and we can drive her to the hospital and have it checked. 

    - Buck, it’s a scrapped knee. I’m sorry to tell you but she’ll have plenty of those as she grows up. - she smiled. - Don’t you have a meeting to go to?

    - But ...

    - Bucky, she’s fine. I think she may be trying to push a boy off a swing but other than that she’s a peach. - she got off from the bench to go and stand next to Sadie who was trying to get a turn at the swings. - Sadie do you wanna say hi to daddy?

    - Hi daddy. - she took the phone from Y/N. - Bye daddy. 

    - That hurt. - Bucky said as Y/N got a hold of her phone before Sadie could run off with it. - We’re already at hi and bye? Soon enough it’ll go from daddy to dad. 

    - Go to your meeting, Sergeant. We’ll see you at home tonight. 

    - Are those orders? 

    - Strong suggestions. 

    - I’ll see you both tonight. 

Bucky put his phone in his pocket, his brain still racketing about his daughter’s wellbeing while at the same time worrying about the back to back meetings that had left him with only 20 minutes to have lunch. 20 minutes which were interrupted by a call from his secretary saying someone needed to see him. He had barely even had time to take a bite from the cheap cafeteria sandwich and was now on his way to his office once more. The end to this day couldn’t come faster.

     - Whoever’s waiting, send them in. - he said as he passed his secretary. 

     - Sergeant Barnes, she’s already in the office. 

     - What? - he turned around to face his secretary who usually was able to keep anyone and everyone at bay if necessary. - How did ... 

     - I have my ways. - the door opened from inside. - Besides, we are close. 

     - Anna? 

(...)

There was no way in hell she could ever re-write this. If she was being honest she couldn’t see a major structural or even content flaw in her work. Besides, none of the feedback she received was constructive, it didn’t help her figure out what to do to make it better. Although, her supervisor was quite clear there was no way of making it better. Perhaps her other supervisor would have a better idea or maybe some constructive feedback. 

   - What are you working on, squid? - she looked to Sadie who looked just as serious about her drawing as Y/N was about her thesis. 

Sadie ignored her, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she continued to make a mess of her crayons. Y/N sighed, smiling and ruffling the little girl’s hair as she got up from the kitchen table to grab them something to drink. Bucky had just pulled up on the garage so he’d soon be here for dinner so there was no use in preparing Sadie a snack. If she did, she just knew the toddler would use it as an excuse to have no dinner and munch on string cheese later on. 

   - DADDY! - she heard Sadie yell out. Good, it was finally time to eat. 

   - Let me look at your knee. - Bucky looked down at his daughter’s knee. - Are you okay? Does anything hurt?

   - No. Y/N gave me another thingie. 

   - Band-aid, Sadie. - Y/N walked to the dinning table were Sadie was showing Bucky her band-aid. - Can you give me a hand bringing the cutlery and dinner to the table? I need to go to bed early today, Buck. 

   - Yeah, sure. You go and wash you hands, Sadie. 

Sadie climbed down her chair and rushed to the bathroom while Bucky followed Y/N to the kitchen. He was in a surprisingly good mood considering he’d spent the whole day in meetings. Last time that happened, he didn’t even have dinner with them and instead went straight to his study, so this was a refreshing change of pace albeit a suspicious one. 

   - You’re happy. - she said as she took the cutlery from the cupboard. - Did you have a drink on your way in?

   - I actually have good news. 

   - You had two drinks on your way in? 

   - I met with Sadie’s mum today. She wants to meet her, we set up a meeting tomorrow. 

Oh. That’s why. 

She couldn’t explain her, but her heart felt unexplainably tight. 

   - Oh ... 

   - Don’t worry, I’ll get her from school, I know that you’re gonna be at Columbia tomorrow. 

   - I’m not worried about that. - she sighed. Part of her was screaming not to give her opinion but she and Bucky were friends ... or at least they were friendly, and it looked as if he was waiting for her to say something. - Don’t you think it’s a bit soon?

   - Soon? She gave birth to Sadie 2 years ago, I’d say a reunion is long overdo. 

   - I just think you should take it slow. She doesn’t have the best track record and if she leaves again, it might hurt Sadie. 

   - She’s ready, Y/N. - his tone shifted, turning avoidant. 

   - How do you know? She hasn’t tried to make contact in two years and what if she flakes at the last minute? How would we explain it to Sadie?

   - We? - he crossed his arms. - Last I checked she is my daughter and you’re the person I pay to watch over her. I explain things to her and I make the decisions. 

   - Sadie took some time getting used to me, Buck. 

   - You’re not her mother! 

   - You don’t need to speak to me like that. - she set the cutlery and plates down on the kitchen counter. - I worry about Sadie and I worry that you’re rushing into this because of your obsession with giving Sadie a mother. 

   - You should worry about keeping your job if you continue talking. 

Y/N’s mouth shut as she starred at him, eyebrows furrowed as if she couldn’t believe what had come out of his mouth. They hadn’t had the best track record together, at least from the beginning where they were constantly clashing against each other, yet he had never threatened her job. She always felt confident enough to give her opinion where it seemed relevant.

   - I am not hungry. Suit yourself. 

Bucky was left with the tray of lasagna and the dishes to put on the table. At least that. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to find the dishes if he had too. Besides, she was overreacting. From his point, she had no right to talk about what was right and wrong when it came to Sadie’s mother. She needed a mother and if he could finally give her that he would. If he could give her a sense of normalcy, something that resembled the picket white fence, mum, dad, kid and the pet, he would. He’d do everything for her. 

   - Washed hands. - Sadie rushed into the kitchen, showing her dad her clean hands. 

   - That’s great, baby. Here take your plate to the table and I’ll bring the food. 

   - Don’t like lasagna. - she crossed her arms not to differently to how he had just done. 

   - What? You love when Y/N makes lasagna. 

   - Because of the song?

   - What song?

   - The lasagna song. 

   - Well ... - he kneeled to her height. - If you don’t eat your lasagna then I won’t give you the surprise.

   - Surprise?

   - Tomorrow ... - he tucked her hair behind her ear. - Tomorrow, I’ll pick you up from school and we’ll go to that coffee shop with the bunny cakes to meet your mum. 

   - I know my mummy, daddy. You’re being silly. 

   - She’s really excited to meet you. She even said she may bring some photos of when you were in her belly so she can see. 

   - I have a mummy already. 

   - Sadie, I know you really like Y/N but she is not your mum. 

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #single dad!bucky

[80s4life]

Together At Last”

Word Count: 3,971

Status: Requested!

Ask: Can I have Chris Chambers x reader with the prompt  "You're different and I like that"

@: @micheleamidalajedi​

A/N: I absolutely LOVED this request because I was able to put myself into the Reader and prove that not everyone is the same, female, male, or nonbinary, or all of the girlypops!

Relationship: Chris Chambers x Merrill!Reader

Fandom: Stand By Me 1986

Summary: It’s been 5 years since the disappearance and eventual death of Ray Brower, and you’re each reaching graduation. However, another adventure arises and brings all 5 of you back to the woods to find Teddy’s dog. The problem? Almost all of you have either grown apart or split completely, and old feelings seem to resurface with unresolved conclusions. What could go wrong?

Warnings: mutual pining, adventure, confessions, AGED UP!, friends to enemies to lovers, some angst, nostalgia, lost friendships, gained friendships, Teddy is a brother figure to Reader, gun, unintentional intent to kill someone, strong language, Reader is Ace Merrill’s sibling, 

{gif is not mine, credits go to @awidevastdominion​}

Your landline rings, deriving you of your thoughts and current intensity studying for finals. Groaning, you shrug out of your seat at the kitchen table begrudgingly, answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Y/N? ‘S that you?” a familiar voice, deepened with maturity and hormones asks on the other side.

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“Nice to know you haven’t changed,” you can hear the voice taunt annoyingly. 

“It’s been years since I’ve talked to you, did you expect a ‘Hey, what’s up’?”

“I would have preferred that, yes, but no. This is serious, and I really need you on board with me this time.”

“This better not be one of your schemes, Teddy, I’m not up for anything right now,” you sigh, “I’m up to my neck with textbooks and shit with studying for the finals and stuff. Dad’s been on my ass about getting into a college since I’ve been able to hold a B+ to A average.”

“Damn. Sorry to say I can’t relate?”

You giggle, sighing as you’ve missed him. You couldn’t quite tell what happened to cause you to separate, but as if you had just blinked, everyone was gone and you were left to yourself and school. “Alright Teddy, what bullshit are we pulling now?”

“Glad you asked!” he all but yells in happiness, “My dog went missing a few days ago and I haven’t been able to find him all over town. I know this sounds childish, but I swear, I’ve walked the whole town everyday at dawn before school and haven’t been able to find him.”

“So, you’re guessing he’s in the woods?” you groan, remembering the haunting history you’ve witnessed first hand in said territory.

There’s a long pause before he lets out a low, “...Yes...”

“What did the others say?”

“What makes you think I asked them?” he tries to sound as if he’s not that easy to read; a “changed man.”

“Because I still know you, or some of you. There’s no way this is going to be a one night thing and we need more sets of dependable eyes.”

“Well, now you’re making me sound smart.”

You giggle, “I’m not gonna keep beating around the bush Teddy, I’m in as long as the others are?”

“Yes!” he shrieks.

...

A few days later, as instructed by Teddy, you carry your sleeping bag, flask of water, some snacks, and money (something you all collectively forgot last time) to the dumpsters behind the town’s cafe. Trudging around the corner, your breath catches in your throat as you lay eyes on the back of three familiar heads and a face, each people you thought you have grown so far apart from.

“Y/N!” the voice of the face coming from Teddy.

You nod silently, leaning against the brick building as you keep your distance. 

The three boys that are now men, turn around to take you in, eyes wide.

You wave nervously, age and distance having changed all of you and making you feel as if you don’t know these people.

Teddy still had his familiar square-shaped, black glasses, but his hair is cut to fit the army’s conduct, shaved short on the sides around the back, the top of his head a bit longer. There was just enough hair for Teddy to comb it back with gel just as he had as a preteen - before you all turned away to seek your own lives. He grew a bit taller, standing at 5′5″, but not by much. You giggle internally.

To the far left, you see Gordie and your heart breaks a little. He’s still lean in build, but he’s grown to be tall and confident, around 5′11″ - 6′0.” To you, he hasn’t changed a bit, except personality. He still had his longer hair, possibly longer than you remember it, with the same hairstyle and familiar baby face, though slightly aged. 

Next was Vern, and he was so big now. He managed to drop the weight, a lean build of muscle standing above 6′0″ and carrying his dopey grin with longer hair - a similar style to Gordie’s, though unintentionally. You smile at him. He’s still a sweetheart, but more like a big, lovable Chocolate Lab now.

Lastly was Chris, and he was still as gorgeous as ever. He came to be of above average height, 5′10,″ grew his hair out longer and adorned circular glasses that framed his face perfectly. His eyes carry no emotion, a contrast to his younger self, but they’re still that luscious deep blue. He looks you up and down in silence before staring you directly in your eyes. You can feel your heart break all over again.

You didn’t realize how long you were staring at each of them before Teddy clears his throat. “Shall we?” he tries to smirk, but the tension is thick. 

You hug your arms around your abdomen as you nod, plastering a smile of your face as you force yourself to stand beside the now men. Slowly, everyone starts to follow Teddy until you reach the tracks.

Some time later, as you walked on the tracks, you lagged behind. Now, with this view, you could see where everyone had changed, but not as much as you thought. Gordie and Chris got to talking amongst themselves far in front of the group, Teddy and Vern behind them. They’re all too busy catching up for them to notice your inner turmoil.

You almost want to cry. You don’t know any of them anymore. This was a fact that your younger self would’ve never expected or taken a liking to. You think of what your younger self would do, punishing yourself for what you allowed to happen. 

You would’ve called them repeatedly, tried to make plans or catch up to them in passing to classes. All of this you could pride yourself on saying that you did, but then Gordie went the way his father wanted him to go, Chris becoming an athlete while trying to follow Gordie’s brains, getting into law, Teddy trying to apply and reapply to the military, and Vern taking a liking in the construction trade. 

They all grew up, and though you couldn’t blame them, they slipped out of your hands far too quickly and suffered the backlash. Girls in school are bitches, and though you have friends, they aren’t like the ones before you. Even after all this time, they are still considered exactly that - friends, family even.

You went your own way, too, after giving up on them. You found an interest in engineering and found that it’s not exactly as you suspected. It wasn’t all math and physics and you deeply enjoyed the creativity and problem-solving it included. You have some fond classmates there, but they would never compare to these boys. 

You are ripped from your thoughts as you hear the loud blaring of a train’s horn. You smirk at the memory that crosses. Calling out to Teddy, your voice is loud enough for all of the boys to hear, “Sound familiar, Teddy? We’re not gonna go diving for you on the tracks again, right?”

“Fuck off,” you can hear him giggle, jabbing Vern in the side. 

All the way in the front, you can hear Gordie add, “Or have to break you and Chris up, huh?”

You giggle at the reminder. That was the time when you were all trying to figure yourselves out without guidance, restrictions, stereotypes, and parents. Teddy had a lot of trouble then. 

Your smile drops as the group goes quiet again, the nostalgia dying with the connection that almost rekindled. You groan audibly - unintentionally.

The boys look back at you curiously, surprised just as much as you were. 

You decide to take the initiative, “Is this what we’re going to do the whole time? Act as if we’re strangers and not speak to one another?”

“We are strangers, Y/N,” you hear Chris state with indifference.

You catch up to the group and walk between them, “There’s a reason we all came here and I know we all hoped to be together again. It doesn’t help when you don’t even try to speak to us though, does it?”

The group stops as Chris spins around on you. “Why would I? After this, we are all gonna go our separate ways and avoid each other again,” he growls and spits, “Just like last time.”

“Then, why did you come?” you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you and asking the question you were all wondering yourselves. “Why are we all here?” you look around at each of them. 

“Because I missed you guys,” Vern pipes up, the first words he’s spoken the whole walk from town.

“We wouldn’t have missed each other if we had just kept our promises, would we?” Chris asks, frowning with his eyebrows scrunched together and arms crossed tightly over his chest. It almost resembles hatred.

And it makes you livid. “You broke your promise, too, Chris,” you vividly remember the promise you made just short of town on your way back; the promise that meant the world and more to you - it still does. “We all did, but at least I can say it wasn’t intentional. I tried to reach out to you guys, but we were all growing and changing. I can’t blame you guys, except you, Chris.”

“Me?” his voice reaches higher as the time passes by.

“Oh please, we all know you went from a street rat like us to the high priest and prince of school,” Teddy adds.

Chris scoffs, crossing his arms, “Gordie?”

“I mean, you did drop us after you got with Stephanie Wheeler,” Gordie deflects, shrinking in size as he knows the blows coming next. He adds, “The rich bitch of high school whose daddy is the principal.”

“This is bullshit, I should’ve never decided to come,” he shoots daggers at you.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t of because we all know that you’re embarrassed of even being seen with us,” Vern adds, caution to the wind. 

Chris scoffs again as he takes up his bag, starting back to town. 

“So, you’re just gonna leave?!” you scream as he creates distance. 

“I fucking knew it!” Gordie screams, grabbing his bag as well to follow Chris on the opposite side of the tracks. 

You watch with pain as each of the boys start back to town. All except Teddy, who manages to stand there with teary eyes. 

“I just wanted us to enjoy the time, find my dog, and hopefully have one last high school hurrah before we are all forced apart,” he sniffles.

You look at him with matching sadness, “I-I’m sorry Teddy, I didn’t mean to act out like that. I just couldn’t stand another minute, let alone night, with no one planning on speaking to each other. It would have all been for nothing. Even if we had found your dog, we still would’ve hated each other. This is my fault, Teddy, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not, Y/N, it was gonna happen eventually,” his eyes watch them go, but the look in his eye is distant - his mind far beyond where they’re heading.

“We can still look for Butch together?” you manage to smile, tears brimming your eyes.

“I don’t feel like it anymore,” you can visibly see his body deflate.

“Well, can you at least stay? If there’s still some shred of them left, I think they’ll come around again. I still want to rekindle our relationship. I’ve missed you so much, Teddy,” by the time you’re finished, fresh tears are starting to roll down your cheeks.

Teddy’s voice cracks as a tear slips down his cheek, too, opening his arms to pull you in for a hug beside him on the grass.

You smile thankfully as you lean in, sighing at the comfort and history.

“It ain’t going well with my Pops, as you’d assume. He’s still a crazy bastard, but I’m sticking with him. Just for a little longer, as long as I can.”

“Understandable. We can’t forget your ear, can we?”

“Whatever,” he smirks, “What about you?”

“Mom and Dad still fight. If they aren’t fighting, neither of them are home to ensure that they don’t have to fucking see each other. Ace is still a prick, too. I wouldn’t expect him to graduate and still stay in this bum-fuck town.”

“Guess he doesn’t want his reputation to be forgotten,” Teddy giggles.

“Guess so,” you trail off, noticing the sun starting to set and the sky change color. “You think they’re coming back?”

“No, but I can hope.”

You look up at him sadly and nod. “Wanna set up camp for the night anyway?”

He nods silently, taking up his sleeping bag and finding a soft spot to lay out in the grass. 

Silently, you follow his lead, walking down the side of the tracks to the opening of the trees, laying your sleeping bag just beside the first tree, hidden under the canopy of leaves. He decides to go in a little deeper, a few feet away from you, protected by the dimmer lighting in a proactive attempt to block the harsh sun that’ll come in the morning.

Sighing, you both settle in, staring at the sky. Before you know it, your miniscule, unimportant chit chat with Teddy dies down and sleep overtakes you swiftly. There’s no dreams as you toss and turn, but your glad there’s no deeper thoughts that’ll plague you and leave you wide awake.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping until the soft snapping of twigs perk your ears, harshly throwing all of the sleep from your fogged mind and automatically putting it into defensive state.

Peaking around with your eyes, you catch a figure some ways to your left, walking away from your temporary camp. By the distance the figure has created and the direction of their walk, you can tell they were either walking through or around your huddle, no doubt near your camp regardless. 

You flip onto your belly as silently as possible, hand sliding slowly to the underside of your pillow, fingers touching cold metal. You pull the gun from under you, the uncomfortable and foreign weight of it settling in your hand, bringing more unease into your heart and bones. 

You lift yourself up slowly, noticing that Gordie and Vern have, in fact, returned and settled in a circle with you and Teddy. However, there is no sign of Chris, not even a bag.

You let out a slow breath to try and calm your racing nerves as you follow the figure, gun raised and aimed at the black figure. You gain on the figure silently, until your foot makes a horrible crunch as it breaks the branch beneath it. Cursing under your breath, you raise the gun in defense, both hands grasping and eyes trained.

The figure spins around, voice accusatory, “What the f-? Hey...” the voice lowers instantly, hands coming up to show they are unarmed. “Hey, Y/N, put the gun down,” the voice registers in your head as the figure emerges from the darkness and into the glow of the moon breaking through the trees.

“Chris?” you groan, lowering the gun instantly, shoulders dropping. “What the fuck were you thinking? Sneaking around in the woods? You know the way I sleep, man.”

“Knew,” he clarifies, “And, I was just going for a walk to clear my mind.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask with a creep of annoyance settling in, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers. “Why do you keep acting like you’re camping with strangers? Like you have absolutely no knowledge of who we are?”

“Because I don’t; I don’t know the people you have all become now. Even if there are slivers of the people I knew that show every now and then, they are no longer the people they were nor who they are now,” he steps closer to you, enough to reach out to you if he wanted to.

“I can’t say that we are who we were because that’s impossible, but we are still those loving people we were. I’ve noticed that Vern still carries a comb and is a little sensitive. Gordie is still quiet and finds meanings in everything. Teddy still has such and undoubted devotion to his father and his infatuation with the army. I still bother the shit out of everyone and parent them as a way of care. But you,” you pause, assessing him as the sadness settles in your voice and heart again, a cold shock coursing through your veins, “I can only see a person in front of me. You look like Chris, you still have that leaderly inclination, but besides that, everything has changed. Even your eyes have a different look to them, yet they are still that same pair I last looked at 5 years ago.”

Chris says nothing, his mask fitting into place and revealing nothing to you - it doesn’t even look like any of your words are reaching him.

“You keep acting like everyone here is out to get you, but we are simply just being ourselves. You see us as enemies because we had a falling out, but that’s natural. We changed - you changed - and you want to blame us for something that was out of our hands. We are still here for you Chris, I’ve always been here,” your voice is cracking as you look down at your feet, kicking some leaves and twigs to divert your attention somehow. 

A hand reaches beneath your chin, tugging your head up to look into those sapphire irises once again. “You were never my enemy, you were my greatest fear,” Chris says, a pitiful grin pulling at his lips. “You know why I chose to become better? Why I went out with the cheerleaders, tried out for football, worked hard to get into the smart kid classes?”

“W-Why?” you look at him, pain and confusion streaking your E/C eyes like lightning in a storm. 

“Because I knew that if I stayed where I was, I would never be able to give you what you wanted - never been able to give you everything you deserved. At first, I distanced myself because I thought I would never be good enough for you; that distance was what you needed and for me to get out of your sights, so that that better man would show up and lift you off your feet. But, you were insistent,” Chris giggles sadly as his mask starts to fall, his eyes showing the same pain and suffering that reflects off of yours. “I chose to blame you for the pain of losing you, so you would never look at me with those eyes again; never show me this source of genuine love that was undeserved and unfair.”

“But, you promised me that we would be together forever?” you question, a tear slipping from your eye as you stare at him with the newfound information. Pain of losing him, sadness of bringing such turmoil and insecurity to himself, suffering from the rift that could’ve never been, and regret that if you had known, this would have all been avoided as a whole.

“I know I made that promise, and I’m the world’s biggest hypocrite and idiot. It doesn’t matter how far away we’ve become, you can still manage to look at me with that undeserved care?” he mostly questions himself as his eyes search all over your face, both hands cupping your face in his hands. 

Your hands go up to hold his wrists, looking at him with such longing. “You deserve the world, Chris. You always have and always will. You are too pure for the hand you were dealt, and yet you still push yourself farther above.” 

His eyes round and snap to yours with confusion and disbelief, searching you for some sort of trick. “I’ve always loved you, Chris. No one has ever made me so damn pissed off or more loved with just one look or action. It doesn’t matter who I’ve used or dated to temporarily distract me, I’ve always worried and searched for you. You’ve always been in the deepest part of my brain. I-I still love you...so damn much.”

“You’ve always been different and I like that. You’re the biggest pain in my ass, but my greatest mistake. I love you, Y/N,” Chris smiles, a genuine display of delight and content as tears slide down his cheeks with the relinquishment of pain and torture. He’s waited too damn long for this. “I’ve always wanted to do this,” he smirks devilishly, eyes delving to your lips and up to your eyes before he leans in.

Your chapped lips meet his fresh, plump ones, smeared with chapstick with the taste of lemon. Your hands goes up to tangle in his long, blonde locks as his arms reach down to your hips to keep you tightly trapped against him; like he fears that if he doesn’t hold you tight, you’ll slip away like every dream he’s ever had of you - his greatest happiness. 

You pull him in just as tight, arms around his shoulders as your hands tug, fearing the feeling of losing him again. When you part for air, you still never let go of each other, your head ducking in between the crook of his neck and shoulder. You breathe in his scent and save it to your memory as a smell you hoped to never forget or live without. 

“Well, it’s about damn time! God damn!” Teddy yells from his cross legged position on his sleeping bag. 

Gordie and Vern start to whoop and holler from their comfort of sleeping bags with deep pleasure and happiness. 

“I knew you guys would make up eventually,” Vern added with a soft giggle.

“I was starting to miss my parents,” Gordie chided with a roll of his eyes.

“Does that mean we can all be friends now?” Vern adds with a playful glint in his eye and you couldn’t help but giggle. 

“I mean, I guess I could, y’know, hang around a while,” you tease, earning a shove to your side by Chris as you both walk back to your seats on your sleeping bag. 

That night, you all stayed up late trading stories of what you’ve missed within the short time away from each other, and for once since the start of your adventure, you see the benefits of their changes.

They aren’t the same people you once knew because they are now their best versions, and will continue to change for the many years to come. It’s only up to you guys to keep that connection strong and adapt with them that will keep you all bound together forever. 

It was your greatest promise, but there’s been a few changes: “No matter how far away we are nor how different we become, we will always find a way back to each other. Friends forever.”

You and Chris made your own promise, too: “Whatever happens, we will learn to overcome together, forever and always, in love and sickness, at the best and worst moments. Lovers forever.”

#chris chambers #chris chambers x reader #chris chambers imagine #river phoenix #river phoenix x reader #river phoenix imagine #stand by me #stand by me x reader #stand by me imagine #gordie lachance #wil wheaton #Jerry O'Connell #vern tessio #teddy duchamp #corey feldman #ace merrill #keifer sutherland #1986

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Francis Drake Main Story

This is simply a fan translation and is not intended as a replacement for the game. Expect grammatical errors.

Drake: "Ugh..."

Mitsuki: "Drake!!"

He shielded me and took the vampire hunter's sword upon himself.

We hurriedly brought him back to the mansion, and then...

(Arthur said the wounds weren't too deep when he administered first aid, but...)

By the time the sun had completely set, I went to visit his room.

Mitsuki: "Drake, are you awake?"

Drake: "Fawn? Yeah, come in."

I entered, and Drake, who had been lying down, sat up.

Mitsuki: "Are you sure it's okay for you to get up? Take it easy."

Drake: "I'm fine, I'm fine."

Drake: "They told me to drink some rouge and rest, so I had plenty of sleep during the day. I'm now bursting with energy."

Drake: "Come on, instead of just standing there, sit over here."

He patted the space next to him, and I sat on his bed.

Since this morning, the image of him covered in blood has been haunting me, but now he looks normal as always.

Mitsuki: "How are your injuries?"

Drake: "It hurts, but don't worry, I won't cry."

Drake: "You were probably surprised when you saw the blood, but it's just a graze."

Mitsuki: "But..."

Drake: "The pain is gone, and the wound is starting to heal, thanks to my half-vampire body."

He laughed in his usual manner, but I couldn't bring myself to smile.

Mitsuki: "You got hurt because of me. I'm really sorry."

(I keep putting him in danger.)

Drake: "Fawn."

Feeling apologetic, I tightly gripped my skirt, and he gently loosened my grip.

Drake: "This situation is the opposite of when I bit you."

Mitsuki: "You're right."

Drake: "Hey, do you remember what I told you before?"

Mitsuki: "Of course, I remember."

------------Flashback-----------

Drake: “Next time, it’s my turn. If something happens to you, I will definitely help. I promise.”

---------Flashback Ends--------

The promises we exchanged and the sincere feelings that came through were all kept close to my heart.

Drake: "Just like I said back then, I was just repaying a favor. You don't have anything to feel indebted about."

(A favor...)

Drake: "Even if I tell you not to worry, I guess you'll still worry, huh?"

Drake: "Just think that with this, all debts are settled."

He probably said that to prevent me from worrying any further.

(He's right. He fulfilled his promise.)

(The only reason he helped me was to repay a favor, that's all.)

I tried to convince myself of this, but my chest twinged painfully.

(He helped, and yet I'm hurt by the fact that he only did that to repay me.)

Unconsciously, I had expected emotions beyond a simple favor.

I was ashamed of myself for being hurt, but I couldn’t control my heart.

Drake: “Fawn, is something wrong? Maybe you should rest now.”

Mitsuki: “Even if it’s just a debt to you, it’s different for me.”

I interrupted his words, my feelings pouring out of my lips.

Mitsuki: “I was happy when you saved me.”

Mitsuki: “I can’t help but feel sad and worried when you’re hurt.”

Drake: “Mitsuki?”

Mitsuki: “Regardless of any favors, if I can be a strength to you, I want to support you.”

Mitsuki: “Is it wrong to want to be there for you in difficult and painful times?”

I wanted to be there for him when he was going through a hard time, just like he was for me.

It wasn’t about repaying what I received, but...

Mitsuki: “Because you’re important to me.”

Drake: “.........”

(I’m forcing my feelings on him.)

(He probably doesn’t need these kinds of emotions.)

He was like a ship that crossed the sea without being affected by stormy waves.

He was someone who set sail in the uncharted open ocean, and yet, I reached out my hand to him, unable to catch him like the waves.

Drake put his finger on my chin, and when I turned to look at him, he was staring at me.

Drake: "If you say cute things like that, a bad guy like me might take advantage of you."

Mitsuki: "It's okay. I don't care if you take advantage of me."

He slightly furrowed his eyebrows.

(Oh...)

He firmly grabbed my shoulders, and my field of vision spun.

He pushed me onto the bed and looked down at me from a distance, where his long bangs touched me.

Drake: "Do you even know what you're saying?"

Drake: "I'm not a gentleman like the others. I take what's within reach without hesitation and steal everything away."

Drake: "Money, people, lives. That's the way I've lived."

Mitsuki: "I know perfectly well what I'm saying."

Mitsuki: "I like you."

Before I could finish speaking, he sealed my lips with a kiss.

Eventually, he pulled away, and a sigh escaped his lips.

Drake: "Last warning. If you go any further, the next one I will take is you."

Drake: "Are you still okay with that?"

He gazed at me sharply, and my heart skipped a beat.

(Even if I don't know how he feels, I still...)

Giving in to the rushing impulse, I pulled him closer and stole back his lips.

Drake: "Mitsuki."

Mitsuki: "I want to steal you, too."

Mitsuki: "I want you."

Drake: "........."

Drake: "What's with that killer line?"

(Drake?)

Drake: "What is it about you that is stirring me up like this?"

I didn't understand his frustrated emotions.

But once again, his lips drew near, and this time, the kiss was deep, as if I were being swallowed whole.

Mitsuki: "Ah...nn..."

Drake: "Ha...Mitsuki..."

With each repeated kiss, mingling breaths, and the sound of wet noises, the air in the room eventually turned hot and feverish.

His hands moved freely along my body and stripped off my blouse and skirt, leaving me exposed in my underwear.

Drake: "Nice view."

Mitsuki: "Why only me?"

Blushing, I retorted, and he let out a chuckle before removing his shirt.

His muscular body made my heart race, but the white bandages around his torso looked painful.

Mitsuki: "Drake, won't it bother your wounds?"

Drake: "I told you it's fine. Besides, do you think I'll stop here?"

He narrowed his eyes like a predator targeting its prey.

In the cold yet seemingly amused gaze, I felt captivated and imprisoned, both in body and soul.

Mitsuki: "Drake..."

Drake: "Haha! I want you to call me something else at times like this."

Mitsuki: "Francis?"

I responded to his request, and he smiled seductively, lowering his lips close to my chest.

Mitsuki: "Nn...ah...Francis..."

Drake: "Mitsuki..."

He removed my corset, and his tongue rolled and licked my nipples, his caresses intensifying each time I moaned.

Mitsuki: "Ah...nn..."

I arched my back, unable to bear the successive waves of stimulation as his hands squeezed and caressed my breast, but he grabbed my hips, kissing my chest down to my stomach.

Then, a sweet, tingling sensation was pooling in the depths of my gut.

Drake: "Your body is trembling."

Mitsuki: "Because you're touching me."

Drake: "Heh? You feel good just by my touch? Then I'll play with it more."

Drake: "I wonder what would happen to you if I showered you with affection from head to toe?"

Mitsuki: "Ah!"

The moment Francis smiled wickedly, his fingers slipped under my underwear and began teasing my most sensitive area. My body couldn't help but shiver with pleasure.

Drake: "I haven't even touched this part properly yet, and you're already wet."

I could tell that it was wet with my arousal.

When he grabbed my thighs and lifted my knees, I could no longer stop the sound of lewd, wet noises and hide how my burning core easily swallowed his fingers.

(Even though it's embarrassing, being touched by someone I love makes me uncontrollably happy.)

I wondered if it was just a convenient illusion that I felt a special warmth in the hands that touched me and in his eyes.

Eventually, everything that covered my body was stripped away.

Drake: "Mitsuki."

Mitsuki: "Francis... Ah..."

Slowly, he pushed his hard length past my resistance, his hair tousling as he shook my body relentlessly with each thrust.

It was like we were both being swallowed up in a whirlpool of pleasure.

Mitsuki: "Francis, I love you."

Mitsuki: "I love you."

Drake: “.........”

Drake: "Ah, damn it. You're too cute, Mitsuki."

He repeatedly called me pretty with an expression I'd never seen on a man and called my name in a longing voice as our bodies moved against one another.

However, he never once told me he liked me.

(What does he really think of me?)

(Is he just accepting and embracing my feelings?)

I desperately clung to his back, afraid to ask for his true feelings.

Right now, I just want to drown in this storm of passion without thinking about anything else.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp translations #ikevamp jp #ikevamp drake #ikevamp francis #francis drake #cybird

[zoros-fourth-sword]

Scarlett- Chapter Three

Summary: Portgas D. Scarlett  Ace's older sister, decides to join Trafalgar Law's crew as their navigator after her brother's death. At first, she is distant and consumed with grief over her loss, but as she spends more time with Law and his crew, she begins to find comfort in their shared experiences.

As they journey together through the Grand Line, Law, and Scarlett must face off against dangerous foes and navigate the treacherous waters of the New World. Along the way, they grow closer, and Scarlett begins to see Law in a new light.

But their love is not without its challenges, as Law is still haunted by his past and the events that led him to become a pirate. Scarlett must confront her feelings of guilt and loss over her brother's death if she wants to move forward with Law.

WC: 1.6k

Taglist: @3v37773 @sukunas-play-thing

WARNINGS: depression, grief, mention of death

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

Chapter Three: Traffy Laffy

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Today was already a shit fucking day I had zero energy to get up let alone use the bathroom I have been so stuck in my mind thinking about the one hundred different things that I could have done to prevent my little brother's death and it sucked how I desperately wanna live with Dadan aging the troll looking woman actually stole a piece of my heart she did help me keep the boys calm ( more like I helped her). Someone had to be the adult out of the four siblings and of course, it had to be me. The boys weren’t even smart enough to cook in the house; they would probably burn it down in less than 5 seconds.

Imagining the memories I shared with the ASL brothers broke my heart and knowing I couldn't change the past or the future hurt me even more. I'm going to have to accept that Ace is dead, and I'm not quite ready for that. I want to stay in my own little world, where I can see my brothers happy again. I don't want to accept that Luffy and I are missing two people that we may never see again it was a hard pill for me to swallow

“Knock knock can I come in” someone said from behind my door the voice sounding like a females

“Y -yea,” I say clearing my throat as I lean up

“Hi I just wanted to check on you,” the girl said as she entered my room taking a seat at the foot of my bed

“Thank you,” I say giving the girl a weak smile

“I heard what happened and I’m really sorry,” the girl said as she grabbed my hand giving it a light squeeze

“It’s okay I’ll be fine” I softly chuckled not wanting to worry the poor girl she seemed genuinely concerned

“That was a pathetic attempt at masking your emotions” the girl laughed catching me off guard

“I’m sorry I just don’t want anyone to worry about me I’m not the type that likes the attention,” I say as I lean against my headboard

“I understand and that’s completely okay but that won’t stop me from caring you are part of our crew after all so I’m going to treat you like everyone else,” the girl said as she gave me a gentle smile causing it to warm my heart

“Thank you,” I say my voice slightly cracking as I try to fight back tears

“Have you eaten anything?” the girl asked

“No I just haven’t had the stomach for it” I mumble

“Well then I’m going to make you something to eat” the girl happily said as she got up off my bed leaving the room in a flash

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

“Miss Scarlett your food is ready,” Bepo said loudly causing me to wake up from my nap

“I don’t want to leave the room can’t she bring it here” I mumble as I hide myself under my blankets

“Nope we can’t have you being in a slump for the rest of your life,” the Minc said as he pulled the blankets off me causing me to bend my body into a fetal position

“But it’s so cold,” I say trying to make up more excuses to not leave my room

“No need to worry about that I’ll keep you warm,” Bepo said as he carefully picked me up to cradle me against his fury chest

“Hey this actually isn’t so bad” I weakly mumbled against the polar bear trying to fight my sleepiness

“See everything is under control,” Bepo said as he left my room leading us to the dining room/kitchen

“From now on I’m your new best friend,” the polar bear said as he squeezed me tighter

“Fine by me as long as I get to cuddle you when I’m cold” I softly chuckled

“Fine by me Captain does it all the time,” Bepo said

“Wait really grumpy pants is a cuddly person” I asked shocked not being able to see the grumpy man all cuddled up with a giant polar bear

“Yep he might seem like a jerk but behind all that he’s just a normal person that does normal people things (sometimes)” the bear said

“Oh” I mumbled kinda feeling bad about judging the man that kindly took me in

“No hard feelings Scarlett I completely understand believe it or not that was everyone’s first impression we thought he was some grouch but turns out he’s the opposite” Bepo laughed as we entered the kitchen to be greeted by everyone but the captain

“About time you leave your room you vampire,” the guy with the penguin hat said as he sat next to Shachi

“Shut it Penguin before you regret it,” the girl said as she harshly glared at the man

“Yes ma’am I’m sorry ikkaku” Penguin flinched from her harsh tone

“Good,” the woman said that goes by the name Ikkaku

“Anyway I’m glad you agreed to leave your room” Ikkaku smiled at me

“I didn’t agree I was kinda forced to” I weakly chuckle as Bepo placed me on the ground

“Fine by me as long as you get some food in your stomach,” Ikkaku said as she slid a plate of food across the counter for me to grab

“Thank you” I smile as I take the plate of food

“Do you wanna eat with me?” Bepo asked from behind me

“Of course Bepo how could I say no” I slightly smile seeing that it made the polar bear happy

“I wonder how the captains going to feel about Scar taking his first mate” Shachi chuckles

“I think it’s nice to see Bepo hanging out with someone other than the captain,” Ikkaku said as she slid the boys their plates

“Can you all stop talking about us like we’re not here?” Bepo said as we awkwardly stood next to them

“Right my bad guys” Shachi laughed

“Come guys let’s eat up ikkaku didn’t make this delicious food for no reason,” Penguin said as he rubbed his hands together slightly licking his lips

“Eat up Scarlett I won’t eat until you eat,” Ikkaku said as she crossed her arms stubbornly

“I will don’t worry” I laugh taking a bite out of the food

“Oh wow ikkaku this is great” I hum as I take another bite of her food

“Why to thank you Scar I’m glad you like it,” the girl said as she gave me a smile

“I’m glad to see you happy Scarlett” Bepo said as placed one of his paws on top of my head

“Thanks for everything guys I needed this,” I say as my voice begins to crack as I fight back tears

“Of course Scar that’s what crewmates are for,” Ikkaku said

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

I’m currently standing outside on the deck of the Polar Tang after being locked up in a small space for hours I decided to give my lungs some fresh air

“Aren’t you supposed to be in your room moping” I hear a voice approach me seeing that it was my captain

“Trust me I would rather be doing that but Ikakku said she would kill me if I went back to bed” I laugh as I rest my chin in the palm of my hand leaning up against the railing

“Mhm” Law hummed as he stood next to me with his arms crossed over his chest

“I just want to make one thing clear Scarlett if you hurt any of my crew members mentally or physically I’ll make sure you regret it” Law grumbled as he leaned his back against the ship’s railing

“What's your deal with the threats you act like it’s supposed to scare me” I mumble into my palm slightly getting irritated with the man

“It’s not a threat if you mean it,” Law said as he looked me up and down

“Yea yea you don’t have to worry Traffy Laffy I wouldn’t dream of hurting them” I huff as I turn my full attention towards him

“Whether you like it or not we are eventually going to have to trust each other,” I say as I cross my arms over my chest

“You don’t think I know that” Law huffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration

“Look I’m sorry that I kinda showed up unexpectedly and that old man Ray kind guilt triped you into letting me join your crew,” I say

“I really appreciate this Law I’m not really good at showing my appreciation but I’ll try my hardest to prove it,” I say looking the man in the eyes letting him know I was completely serious

“It’s fine no need for formality” Law huffed

“Get some shut-eye we have a big day tomorrow,” Law said as he began to walk away

“Oh and don’t ever call me Traffy Laffy again,” Law said as he came to a complete stop

“Yes sir Traffy Laffy” I mumbled under my breath

“I heard that” Law yelled back towards me as he walked away causing me to let out a giggle

Maybe Trafalgar Law isn’t that bad of a guy.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

★ ° . *　　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸

. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * • ○ ° ★

.　 * 　.　 　　　　　.

° 　. ● . ★ ° . *　　　°　.　°☆

　. * ● ¸ . 　　　★ 　° :●. 　 *

I hope everyone enjoyed I’m sorry if my writing is horrible I’m trying to make this readable as possible 😭

{A/N look at this man y’all these fan-arts are to die for I swear ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) }

#one peice #one piece oneshots #law one piece #law smut #law x y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #law fanfic #law x reader #law x oc #one piece law #trafalgar law #traffy #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar op #trafalgar one piece #the heart pirates #bepo one piece #ace one piece #portgas d ace

[mintmatcha]

i feel like it's the beginning of izuku having some kind of breakdown. he can't function and he hadn't seen his mom in so long and how could he just pretend it didn't happen for a tv interview and he doesn't want to be a hero anymore and--

that realization is like a punch to the skull and has him full-blown hyperventilating and trying to figure out where it went wrong, how he let everything get out of hand but who can replace him but he doesn't care but he has to care

the thoughts are racing and for the first time in a long time he's frozen in fear, and the tears start to come and it burns and hurts in a way he hasn't felt in a long, long time

(im not great at angst but djdjdjdjd ur izuku is making me lose it)

continued from this (cw for parental loss)

Swallowed by a pile of unfolded sheets and mostly dry blankets, Izuku can barely manage to look up at you. The suit you had pressed for his television appearance is crumpled behind him, tucked up and under his elbows, uncomfortably trapping his arms close to his sides, but he doesn't move. He lays there, watching the stationary ceiling fan as if it has the answers he’s looking for.

Every other time Izuku has been in your bed, it's been for sex, but now there's no sheen of sweat on his skin, no tickle of a genuine smile; his skin is pale with grief, stricken physically sick from anguish, a misery clinging so tightly to him that you feel it yourself, gripping your heart tighter with every beat.

He had disappeared immediately after his interview, gone before you could even think what to do. It took hours to track him down, calls to friends who hadn’t heard the news and visits to his usual haunts.

Any other day, you might tease him for breaking in with your spare key, tease him for not even folding your laundry, but today you offer the little peace you contain.

"Are you okay?" you ask as you approach, even though you know the answer. Deku calls you his 'fixer', the person who keeps things running smoothly from behind the scenes, but this is something you can't repair.

"My mom died," he repeats, voice brittle with disbelief.

"I know." You sit on the edge of the bed and hesitate for a long while, contemplating exactly what to do. You can't fix this. You can't make this better. "I’m sorry."

"I know." The stillness of it all, how his chest barely rising with every breath, how the street outside in silent, how you can’t bring yourself to move, haunts you. If you don’t do anything, maybe it’ll be like this forever, suspended in a moment neither of you wants to remember.

So, you inch closer to him.

“Sit up for me.” You tug him up by the shoulders, guiding him up into a sitting position. Izuku is still oddly like a rag doll, letting you move his arms where they need to be as you guide his suit jacket off his body, dropping it into the pile below you. Once it’s gone, you begin with his cuffs. Yucking your thumbs under the linen and caressing the soft skin there, you feel the scars from his youth. raised yet dormant, phantom pains sometimes still rumbling under the surface with rain is on the way.

When you drop the cuff links into the floor and begin on the front placket, Izuku seems to gather himself. His hands settling on your thighs, no playful squeeze or tender stroke. Just a simple touch to feel you there.

His voice reverberates in your hands as you undo the collar’s button. It’s a shiny, opalescent white, a stark contrast against the black of his shirt. Real mother-of-pearl, the salesman had told you, made from oyster shells. "Am I a good person?"

That question haunts you, doesn’t it?

You undo the next unbutton. His white undershirt is practically threadbare and it reeks of cigarette ash, something different from his usual brand. There might be a tinge of alcohol on his breath, but you can't quite tell.

You’re good to a fault, good to the point it’s bad for everyone around you.

Another button and you can see the dark curve of a scar across his sternum, still hyperpigmented because it hasn’t had time to fade. In the right light, you can even make out the remains of stitches under the surface, yet to dissolve.

You’re so good it’s almost killed you.

Another button. It’s as smooth and cold as it was before it was cut, nestled in some poor mollusc that didn’t know any better.

“Sometimes I wish you were less good,” you murmur.

 I think you’d be happier then.

"I haven't visited her in months," Izuku lets his head roll to the side as if it takes too much will to keep it up. His curls are held in place by too much hairspray, practically defying gravity as he talks, mumbling under his breath the same way he does when he’s analyzing data: even and scarily calm. "Ahe texts me every day, but I'm busy, I’m so busy, I’m-"

The hitch in his voice surprises both of you.

“There’s not enough time.” He helps you shrug off his dress shirt and his hands return to your sides, clutching your much tighter this time. “I don’t have enough time, there isn’t enough time to do it all, I'm only one person.”

His voice stays even and distant, but his hands are trembling as they close tighter, thumbs digging into the soft inside your hipbones. The pressure aches, then hurts, growing with every word.

“How am I supposed to do everything?” he mumbles, “I can’t be a hero and a person, I can’t be a hero and a partner, a hero and a son-”

"Izuku-" You think he might crush you without even realizing what’s happening. His palms are squeezing, fingers digging, all of it so tight you can’t wiggle away even when you try.

"I don't want this anymore, I don't want to live this life,” Izuku’s voice cracks again, “I don’t want- I don’t-

His eyes seem so verdant against their red rims. "I chose television over my mom."

“Izuku.” Your hands find his face, cupping his cheeks and pleading for his attention. “You’re hurting me.”

The pain unfurls when he lets go, blood rushing back to damaged skin. It’s going to bruise and you’re going to feel the hurt with every step.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t-" he watches his palms as if they can offer him any explanation. The skin under your touch smudges and you realize his screen make up is still on; you drag your touch down, exposing new seas of freckles, dark and bountiful. When your hand trail to the curve of his jaw, his throat bobs with a slow swallow, once then twice.

“I know you didn’t.”  And with that, you crumble into each other. Izuku buries his head into the soft below your collar bone, dragging you less than gently into his lap. You wrap yourself around him as tight as you can muster and yet it doesn't feel like enough.

"You have to let go," Izuku sighs after a long while, "I'm afraid you're gonna see me cry."

You slink off of the bed toward the door and he tenses with every step, muscles bunching with worry and self restraint. You give him once last glance before you turn off the light. You've seen him nude before but never so bare.

You can find him in the dark, arms extended, open and demanding like he needs you, even if he doesn't want you. Pressed up against you, you can feel what you can't see: the wobble of his lip, the wet against his cheek.

"I thought it was so annoying to have her text me every day," he whispers, voice barely pieced together through its cracks and gives, "And now I want is one more. One more text."

His body hiccups with a sob, silent before he lets go completely. It's ugly. It's snot and anguish, nonsense pleads to someone and no one, anger, grief, and emotions you aren't sure have names.

You hold him. That's the only thing you can do. This isn't a cross you can bare for him.

#content.cold #sad deku au

[bokubear]

THE HQ BOYS FORGET ABOUT YOUR DATE

featuring ; matsukawa issei, kuroo tetsuro, bokuto kotarou, akaashi keiji

warnings ; slight angst/hurt, eventual comfort, crying

notes ; it’s been a while since i updated you guys, think of this as my check in. i hope you’re all doing well !

MATTSUN experienced that uncomfortable feeling of dread filling his senses at around six thirty, approximately an entire hour late from your scheduled dinner date. the restaurant he picked out, the outfit you had bought specifically for this rare occasion. wasted. yet he didn’t realize until he happened to open his messages, your pinned number causing him to leap from the loveseat in terror. he messed up big time. your beautiful face crumbling with sadness sent him dizzy in distress. the frazzled man disregarding his usual belongings to run to the place, evening lights twinkling with the dimmed lighting; elevating the romantic atmosphere. “baby i’m so so-“ however, the apology was cut off when you shoved past him—soft sniffles heard. “if you have time to apologize, you surely had time to show up.” you hissed, not sparing a single glance at issei. after that, he trailed behind you on the way home—downcast. the sounds of your crying haunting him from the living room. he was giving you space, but this was killing him. “i made your favorite dish, come out so we can talk-“ once again, the words frothing in his throat dissolved upon impact. your face hidden in his t-shirt. “you jerk, don’t you ever do that again or i will not hesitate to cut off your hands and feet.” he stood in stunned silence. “alright then, am i forgiven ?” — “not a chance.”

KUROO was fully immersed in his job, and you couldn’t be happier for him. except for the portion which required him to be away for long periods of time. apparently, the at-home movie date was long forgotten. because tetsuro was a no show. the thought of calling him left your lip quivering. this could possibly be one of the only times you get to see him this week and your patience and resilience was running thin. finger pressing the call, listening to the dial tone with absolute silence—emotions in an overflow. but the anger bubbling quickly dissipated when the fluid and ear numbing voice was heard. his. “..how could you forget ?” your voice cracked, crucially unhelpful. “that’s it ! tonight was the movie night wasn’t it ?” he bit his lip, guilt eating his heart alive. “it was.” you finished, hands shaking as you held the phone—struggling to keep it together. “it’s okay kitten, i hear you, i can’t even explain how sorry i am, let it out i’m here.” he hushed, easing your choked sobs. he stayed on the phone with you all the way to the door, enveloping you in his arms while gently rubbing your back. “how about my neighbor totoro ?” you gasped in air. “that sounds okay.” he smiled weakly, kissing your lips. “anything for you.”

BOKUTO grinned form ear to ear, this smile was most definitely not as large as it was when gazing at you—but impressive in the least. his power was phenomenal and this practice was proving simple. kotarou’s gained skill over the years bringing him to this moment. he was obsessed. although no matter how deeply he adores volleyball, you took first. today though the ace was fully charged. mind straying from the picnic date set up forty minutes ago. “that one was the best !” he shouted with glee, fists clenching pridefully. his mini celebration cut short at the gym doors being opened. there you stood, gorgeous as ever in your newly purchased sun-dress. “how’d the practice go ?” you quietly exclaimed, eyes saddened. automatically he ran to you, noting the picnic basket in your hands. “sweets i forgot i’m sorry honey i—“ the look on your face unreadable. “can we start this day over ?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. “just take me on a date you oaf, and if you forget next time i’m not going to your next game.” he brightened first, then paled at the later add in. “that’s easy peasy then.” he smirked triumphantly, hands on his hips. “mhm i bet it is.” you hummed, brows lifted in amusement. ‘honey.’ you haven’t heard that one before.

AKAASHI is a busy man. from filing reports to his editing career, his life at the moment is an endless loophole of assignment after assignment. spacing out hardly any time given to spend with you. today was a breakfast day. a day he reserved especially for you, only for you. to go out and eat early and to return to your comfy abode to lay in bed, simply conversing. nevertheless, his internal alarm clock filtered on his job, waking up beside you to leave a peck on your forehead before walking to the subway station. regular routine. funny enough, this one was a close call. a very close call. seated in his office chair, your text affirmed on the screen. ‘where are you ?’ the memories drowning keiji in a huge tsunami. recollections of yesterdays excitement crashing into him. ‘went to the store, hang tight love.’ and just as fast as he’d entered the building he exited. with the small white lie discarded. déjà vu passing by at the familiar bedrooms entities. “you weren’t actually at the store we’re you ?” surveying his coat with a sleepy smile gracing your angelic face. “no, but i’m here now.” he puckered, glancing away from embarrassment. “close call.” he hovered above you, breathy kisses devouring your neck. “but i made it.” you chuckled, his lips tickling your jaw. “that you did.”

-maak

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

#hqxreader #haikyuuxreader #hq #haikyuu!! angst #hq angst #haikyuu angst #mattsun fluff #mattsun issei #issei mattsun #mattsun x reader #bokuto angst #bokuto kotaro fluff #bokuto kotaro angst #bokuto kotarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotarou x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroō tetsuro #kuroō x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi angst

[herenortherenearnorfar]

For @silver-grasp Celebrimbor through two ages with kittens with some slightly heavy discussions (warning for discussed animal death and rather utilitarian preindustrial elven ethics)

He finds his cousin amid the goats, on the verge of tears.

Celebrimbor expected the tears, given the… situation. The goats are a bit of a surprise. So is the milk pail at her feet.

“Finellach?” he cringes, as he remembers who else called her that name.

“Oh, cousin. I didn’t expect you here.” She sniffles. “I don’t suppose you know how to milk a goat?”

It’s not something that has come up before in Celebrimbor’s education, no. But he’s willing to give it his game best.

It turns out his best isn’t good enough. The goat kicks and Finduilas criticizes.

“No, Uncle Finrod said you have to pull down—“ the tears are starting up again. He’s beginning to sense the shape of their predicament, well, this sub-predicament. The main one is obvious.

“I’ll hold it and you milk?” he offers.

The goat is uncooperative (this cannot be an ideal experience for it) and neither of them have much experience. After much sweat and some more tears, they get a decent pail of milk. Retreating from the goats, Celebrimbor finally dares ask:

“Why?”

Finduilas’ lip wobbles imperceptibly. Then, like a princess, she finds her center. “I need to make milk for the kittens. Uncle Finrod was helping me but…”

“He left very suddenly,” Celebrimbor agrees. If he’s lucky she won’t bring up why he left. The scene in the hall—father and Celegorm accusative, Finrod’s pale rage, Orodreth shaking— still haunts him.

“With no mind to who he was leaving! To who needed him! I barely know how to make the special food they need and without it they’ll starve and he didn’t even stop to say goodbye.” Even in the dim light of the goat caves, set high in Nargothrond’s slopes, her hair gleams. It sets her face aglow, makes her look like Finrod in the depths of grief.

Celebrimbor has been apologizing a lot recently, without really specifying what he’s apologizing for. Even he’s not sure—half the time it feels like no one did anything wrong. But once more can’t hurt. “I’m sorry. I—why are there kittens?”

“One of the mousing cats threw a litter she was too young to keep and I couldn’t find a foster queen. Finrod said I could rear them, they’d just need to be fed every two hours.” That explains her conspicuous absence from court these past few weeks. She gives him a despairing look. “I don’t suppose you know anything about kittens?”

“No. I can’t ask the hunt either, they frown on nursing newborns—something about the way of the wild. Father used to rear up some of his puppies and Celegorm mocked him dearly for it. I’d ask him, however…”

“They have so much to do these days,” Finduilas says venomously, swinging the milk pail so sharply Celebrimbor worries for its precious won contents. “Such speeches to make.”

“I can help you though,” he offers, before her mood turns further. “What else do we need to do?”

After ten days spent tiptoeing around everyone, for fear they’d look at him and see a their own fears or desires, his cousin’s easy company is a balm. She looks at him with relief, but no expectations.

“We need eggs, a smidge of olive oil, and jellied fish from the stores. Only the jelly goes in so I hope you’re ready for fish.”

On the way down to the dimmer depths where the hens pick for bugs, he learns how old the kittens are (fourteen days and wobbly), how many there are (five so the milk is going fast), and their coloration (two grey and three tabby).

Three eggs in hand, they nip by the storage rooms and find them in disarray. The political shifts in Nargothrond make it easy to steal a whole set of clear isinglass jelly intended for feasts.

“I have some leftover milk in an icebox,” Finduilas frets, “But there’s one last ingredient. I’m not sure how to get it.”

“Do tell.”

“Uncle—Finrod had a little blue crystal glass of water from Valinor. He’d put a drop in each batch. I’m not sure where the glass is now, or how to get to it.”

Celebrimbor considers, then considers again. He will not be called overhasty to speak. “It must be in his rooms,” he says. “And I can get to those. Leave it to me.”

Hands full, she leans forward and pecks his cheek. It feels warm, comforting. He remembers childish kisses from Idril when they were small, in the thin peace before all scattered to their own kingdoms. He worried that being of such a sparse generation he’d outgrown the friendship of cousins.

Were she not engaged he might love her for it. As it is, he only pines a little.

Slipping into Finrod’s old rooms is easy. His father’s man is at the door and his uncle’s voice is loudly declaiming, making some passionate argument about love. He ghosts in almost unnoticed (except by Huan, lying at the fire) and begins to rifle through the cabinet of treasures furthest from the wall. He thinks he remembers a blue faceted blue glass from previous, carefully chaperoned visits to Uncle Finrod’s treasure trove.

Just as his hand closes over it, Celegorm starts to reach his point.

“The princess doesn’t know what she wants,” he says, and Celebrimbor freezes.

From the deep, kingly chair near the desk, Father scoffs. “Doriath will not agree with you.”

Finduilas is kin to King Thingol, however distantly. If he runs now, it will look suspicious. But quicker is better, away from Father’s men, to Gwindor or one of the other young sprouts she holds sway with. Someone who can spirit her out—away.

Perhaps it’s not so bad. They might have her best interests at heart. She is family, after all.

“She is green—“ Celegorm wheedles, while Celebrimbor compares escape routes, contemplates throwing himself at his father’s feet.

Curufin scoffs. “Princess Lúthien is older than you are—older than Maitimo—and her mother’s people are older than any who walk this world. I do not think we will get far on that claim.”

Every muscle in Celebrimbor’s body relaxes a fraction. Tucking the blue glass into his palm, he begins to sidle out, only to be stopped by a sharp bark from Huan.

Celegorm folds his arms. “Where do you think you’re going, young man?”

Father murmurs a general agreement. He seems distracted by the vellum in front of him, the fine ink waiting to be used.

“The kitchen wanted one of the rare tonics Finrod kept in his own personal store, for a particular medicinal broth.” He’s shocked how quickly the lies come to his own tongue.

Curufin still doesn’t lift his eyes from the blank, waiting paper. “Hmm. And you’ll make sure it’s returned when they’re done?”

“Of course, father.”

This earns him a flick of eye contact, a brief smile. “That’s a good boy. Now go, we have business to do.”

He’s not a boy, he’s a lord grown. Finduilas is a third his age and ready to be married. But at times like these he’s happy to be left out of the business his elders get up to.

He flees, clutching the precious bottle tight to his chest. Down the stairs, through the halls, to Finduilas’ well appointed little suite. A set of rooms fit for a princess, with a hidden window out onto the river and a fresco of the Awakening at Lake Cuiviénen.

In a middle hallway, hanging like a late morning fog, he finds Orodreth. His listlessness seemsto sharpen for a moment. “Curufinwion. Your quarters are not this direction.”

Very little is this direction, except sleeping rooms and the odd garden. Besides, he cannot bring himself to lie to Orodreth, who looks so hammered thin, like gold foil where once he was solid gold. “I’m helping Finduilas with the kittens,” he says, bracing for rage. Instead he just gets a queer smile.

“You’re a sweet boy, Curufinwion— I worry it will only hurt you.” Orodreth pauses, as if he has something else to say, then simply adds, “On you go.”

He rushes on.

“It’s unlocked!” Finduilas calls when he knocks. He finds her sitting in a corner where the tiled flooring is very close to the heating strung between Nargothrond’s layers. A cave system within a cave system of elaborate pipes, tubes, and interstitial spaces, pumper variously full of hot water or hot air. Because of the slight unevenness to their natural floors, some spots can get hotter than others. It’s better to wear shoes when walking, even on clear ground.

On the edge of the hot spot, is a fleece lined box full of squirming kittens. A few more adventurous ones are trying to climb out of their container, but wobbly as they are they quickly topple. The rest are content to nap or complain. In the middle, Finduilas is slowly hearing the last of Finrod’s final batch of kitten food, while in her lap she prepares the new, makeshift formula.

He watches her hum the moisture out of the milk, slightly transfixed by the effortless songweaving. He knows how to throw power into an act or an object, how to coerce steel to crystallize coherently or coax a gem into being. Those are wordless incantations. The greatest power of all is in the voice. Did the people not name themselves Quendi—the speakers?

Celebrimbor has always been slow to speak, hesitant to sing. Someday, he’s sure he’ll find his voice but until then can only watch the simplest of knowings in awe.

When she finishes, the milk is thicker, soupy.

“Separate out the eggs,” she directs. “We only need the yolk.”

He juggles the egg between shells, pulling out the yolk. At a loss for what to do with the whites, he swallows them down, the way he’s seen Celegorm do before, and relishesFinduilas’ disgusted giggle. It’s worth the slimy sensation as they go down his throat.

On they go, mixing new milk as the old slowly heats. After Celebrimbor adds the final touch, a drop of Valinorean clarity, Finduilas declares it ready for a switch.

“If we both nurse a kitten at once it’ll go faster,” she says. Patiently, she demonstrates how she feeds them, a tiny spoon with a tube down the handle, a rag tip dipped in the goo.

The little tabby feels even smaller in his lap. It’s barely palmsized, shaky on its legs, with two tiny teeth beginning to poke out of its pink gums.

“Every two hours,” he marvels.

Finduilas nods. “It’s what they need.”

“Isn’t this going a bit far? They can’t survive on their own and you’re marshalling all the resources of a kingdom to help them. In nature they’d be dead.” It feels cruel to say with the kitten sucking at his fingertip, but it’s true. It’s forbidden to kill a mother bear in her den but when a nursing dam is killed by accident, Celegorm always marshals his riders to hunt down the cubs. Better an arrow than starvation, he’d say.

“Well, we’re not nature, are we?” Finduilas can’t gesture much with her hands full of kitten but the way she’s using her eyebrows suggests she wants to. “Look at us, in our city with our fine clothes—“

“Well, we made that—“

“Insulating ourselves from nature. Setting ourselves above it, denying the Valar who made it, marking ourselves the masters of it. A master must do charity, in my opinion.” She argues like a politician, like Celegorm, like Finrod.

“They’re cats,” Celebrimbor protests weakly.

“City cats, dependent on us. Grown fat on the pests of our store rooms. They protect us so we must protect them.” Distracted by debate, she’s let up the rhythm of feeding. The kitten screams in protest. “Yes, yes. Spoiled little orcling!”

“They’re lovely kittens,” Celebrimbor says, “I’m just not sure of the economics of it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, I won’t go rescuing every orphaned badger in the woods. It’d be too much for me to handle. But once in a while I like to be uselessly kind.”

Too sweet for your own good, Celebrimbor thinks, remembering Orodreth’s pronouncement. Ah, well, at least they’re doomed together.

Celebrían finds him in his study, feeding the runt of the litter. At just five days old,it demands food nearly constantly. Celebrimbor has set up its box with a hot water bottle desk side and settled in for a few weeks of paperwork. Luckily Narvi isn’t here to see how the great craftsmen of the Eldar are defeated by a baby the weight of a plum.

As he nurses the mewling, legs splayed newborn, he hums a little song for strengthening. It may not be enough to overcome what the little one has stacked against it, a low birth weight, maternal rejection, poor digestion. But it can’t hurt.

Celebrían bursts in without so much as a warning. “‘Lo, Uncle— what is that?”

“A kitten, I thought you knew enough to realize that.”

She scowls at him. “But why is it here?”

“I’m feeding it. Its mother wouldn’t and someone has to step in.”

“It’s sick, Uncle,” she explains, as if to a child. “It can’t survive.”

“It can if somebody helps it.”

The idea seems to baffle her.

“They’re cats, they only live a dozen years. You’re not saving it for long.”

There’s an unspoken reason that elves tend to favor pedigrees rather than pets. You stop getting attached the same way after six or seven generations. Some of his friends have had excellent luck with great turtles, or talking birds from Valinor via Westernesse, but Celebrimbor has always had a simple heart.

“I’m sure that dozen years will be very fulfilling.”

“You’re not even sure you can save it,” she accuses, more confounded than angry.

He could give her a long speech, a great oration. With teenagers sometimes simple is better. “No, but I’d like to try.”

“It must be hard.”

“Very much so,” he dips his syringe back in the warm milk and takes another pull. The formula, made how Finduilas taught him so many years ago (with a few exclusions, Valinorean water is impossible to find these days), is soupy and requires extra pressure “I’m getting less sleep than usual and you know that’s a feat.”

Celebrían creeps closer, curious despite her youthful pessimism. “I don’t understand.”

The kitten’s belly is starting to distend, it licks its jaws between sips more often now. Soon it will be drifting off to sleep, ready to return to its warm paradise in the box. He’s lined it with soft blankets and added some walnut-shell weighted bags that hold heat well.

“A cousin of ours taught me that we must practice what separates us from beasts and monsters. Even if it sometimes means being tender hearted .” Truth be told, he doesn’t even notice the softness these days. It means he’s well in practice.

It’s an exercise in hubris as well as altruism. How bold to think he can single-handedly save a creature so fragile! Bones like splinters, skin like tissue, he’s handling a creation more delicate than any gem. But he’s done it before, under far less ideal conditions. There was an orphaned bird when Elrond was a youth, amid the shaking husk of Beleriand. A baby bat when he dwelt among the dwarves, he’d had to be careful with that one for fear of the beast-madness dwarven lore warned about. And there are always surplus kittens in the world.

You should not try to save the world if you cannot save a single corner of it.

Like she’s peeking at a dead body, Celebrían peers over his arm at the kitten. “It’s so little,” she marvels, not dismissive now, but fond.

“Would you like to hold it?” he offers, and can’t resist teasing. “It’s about time for it to defecate.”

Her mother’s daughter, Celebrían doesn’t even blink. “Can I?”

As he settles her with the round, happy kitten and a warm cloth, he wonders if she too will someday look back on this as a youth lost. The world is full of tragedies, a whirlwind of lost cities, lost cousins, and lost kittens. Here they sit, cupped hands full of yawning baby, holding back a storm

#new year fics #silmarillion fanfiction #celebrimbor #finduilas #celebrian

[elis-corner]

Scar x reader

dl

Reader and Scar are in a secret relationship

Anon, I may have gone a bit overboard?

This is barely proofread, and there are probably a few inconsistencies, but this is good enough I have exams due in a few days-.

WARNINGS: Slight angst, extremely not canon, no shipping intended but could be read that way, blood tw. If I've missed anything let me know :)

Secret Soulmate

If you were caught, you’d be dead. Even your soulmate wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.

You stared at the bucket filled with water that rested in your hands. Your face was reflected onto it, distorted by its rounded sides and dents and scratches from all its wear and tear. And yet the eyes were not yours–the reflection you saw was of two red orbs. The bucket you gripped so tightly… It was a gift from your first night.

You closed your eyes, hands hung loosely by your sides as you waited for him to make his move. You wanted him with you more than anything–for the world to prove to you both that no one else would suffice. You let the sensation of his fist against your shoulder envelop you whole as you hoped, as you prayed, for him to be yours. You opened your eyes to meet his gorgeous olive green ones, and yet they were downcast, refusing to look at you. The world was against you.

‘Y/n?’ You jumped slightly at the sound of your name, and you barely managed to keep yourself from crying out. ‘It’s me. Nothin’ to worry about.’ You turned around to face the man behind you.

‘Scar,’ you exhaled, opening your arms slightly as a sign to come closer. He stooped down to hug you, his arms constricting your ribcage. ‘I was starting to think you weren’t coming.’

‘I’m sorry, darlin’. It took me a while to get Grian off my back, but he’s finally gone to go “resource gathering”. It’s not like I don’t know he’s seeing BigB.’ He went quiet. ‘I should mind, but I can’t bring myself to anger. It’d be hypocritical of me to be angry at him for having a secret soulmate.’

You rest your head against his shoulder with a sigh. ‘My soulmate would kill us if they knew I was meeting with you–the last green duo on the server.’

‘No one thought I’d make it this far.’

‘I did. I always had faith in you.’

He stood up straight, scratching the back of his neck. His eyes were downcast–and yet they were downcast–as he spoke. ‘Even you must have been glad when we weren’t… partnered,’ he spat the word, ‘Just in case something stupid happened. You can admit it; I’ll take no offence.’

‘There’s nothing to admit. You know how much I wanted to be with you, Scar. Otherwise why would I meet you?’ You stood up straight to press a kiss to the sharp edge of his jawbone. You hear him cry out in pain.

Scar stumbled backwards, grasping his shoulder where blood slowly drenched his shirt. An arrow was plunged into his shoulder, painfully tearing at the skin as he tore it out. Your mind was a blur as your soulmate dove from the top of the tree you stood under, their diamond sword striking your love across the throat. Scar fell to the floor, a look of horror haunting his eyes. A look of betrayal. The grass beneath him was growing steadily stickier as he bled onto it, scarlet blood staining the dirt. You fell to your knees beside him as your soulmate watched on, a sickening grin on their face.

‘Scar,’ you whispered, entwining your hand with his. ‘I’m so sorry– I swear I didn’t know…’

His grip loosened, and his chest fell still, and you were left to try and find words for the loss of a man you more than knew.

#goodtimeswithscar x reader #gtwscar x reader #gtws x reader #hc x reader #hermitcraft x reader #mcyt x reader #dl x reader #double life x reader #third life x reader #3l x reader #traffic smp x reader #my writing #tw blood #blood tw #tw angst #angst tw #anon ask

[digyoman]

as someone only familiar with the tv show and unwilling to read a stephen king book for the crumbs, are there lloyd, flagg, and lloydflagg bits of book lore that the show left out that you'd like the public to know?

absolutely! i’m so glad you asked, because i know a thing or two about lloyd & flagg, and the show really didn’t do them justice. at all. there’s so much about them that the writers got wrong, or just left out entirely, and it haunts me at night. but i have a lot of details about their portrayal in the book committed to memory, and i’ve been dying for a chance to talk about them! so i will happily share my knowledge with the public. :)

but first, i want to point out that the book and the tv show are very different, especially when it comes to las vegas. in the novel, vegas isn’t a glitzy and hedonistic paradise — it’s quite literally the exact opposite of that. in the book’s vegas, rules are strict, work is the main priority, and of course, people are killed for stepping out of line. i’m only bringing this up because it has a major effect on how we’re meant to view lloyd & flagg!

okay. i’m done with my tangent. on to the book lore (under the cut because it’s long af SORRY):

lloyd:

contrary to how he’s portrayed in the show, lloyd is a very brutal criminal. in the first chapter he’s introduced, he gets high out of his mind, kills six people, then shoots up a convenience store. and he does all of this without remorse. :)

the newspapers call him “the baby-faced unrepentant killer” lmao!

he’s supposed to get the death penalty for his crimes; if captain tripps hadn’t swept in, it’s very likely he would’ve been sentenced to the electric chair. he’s both outraged and terrified by this possibility, and his lawyer comes up with a defense story similar to what actually happened in the tv show: he was manipulated into committing murder, and poke threatened to take his life if he didn’t comply. of course, they never get to use this story, because everybody dies before lloyd can go to trial.

during that conversation with his lawyer, he reveals that he’s a sixth-grade dropout. (there’s actually a continuity error with this, because later in the book, king says lloyd quit school after repeating his junior year for the third time. so really, you could say either is true, but i stick with sixth grade because it came first and it’s funnier.)

throughout his time in prison, he faces a lot of physical and verbal abuse from the guards. they insult him, threaten him, spit in his face, and pay other inmates to beat him up. :(

as a result, lloyd develops a very strong grudge against people in authority. he thinks of them all as selfish assholes who use their power to abuse people like him who can’t help themselves. (there’s a lot of irony here, especially when you consider what he allows to happen when he gets a taste of that power in las vegas!) his hate continues to grow as he’s left to rot behind bars, and in his starvation-induced delirium, he comes up with the concept of THE KEY: a symbol of power that allows people in charge to do whatever they want, without getting punished. he stays alive out of spite, determined to one day get revenge on the kind of people who hold THE KEY and take some of that power for himself. this makes the moment when flagg hands him the key to his cell much more impactful, and adds a lot more symbolic weight to the flawed stone he wears around his neck, as well.

something else he spends some time thinking about is the pet rabbit he had as a kid. he had won it at a school auction, somehow, and he convinced his dad to let him keep it on the condition that he would take care of it all on his own. he loved that rabbit more than anything, and he did take care of it. for a little while. but things tended to slip his mind easily, and so he ended up forgetting all about his rabbit. by the time he remembered it, two weeks had gone by, and when he ran to the little shed where he kept it in its cage, he found it had starved to death. its paws were all ragged and bloody, presumably from trying to dig its way out. anyway, as lloyd is thinking about this, he’s absentmindedly trying to unscrew a leg of his cot with his bare fingers, because he’s going crazy and he needs something to do with his hands. there’s blood everywhere. and when he looks at his hands, he can’t help but think of the bloody paws of his long-dead rabbit, left to starve, alone, in a cage. and that’s when the cold reality of his situation starts to sink in. (i’m obsessed with this symbolism it’s so good!!)

his fingertips are forever scarred, after that. even in vegas, he still has the faded marks to remind him of his experience in prison. :’)

when he starts working as flagg’s right-hand man, he becomes a lot more capable. he’s still not very bright, but he’s able to manage things effectively. i’m throwing this detail in here because the show made him into a blundering idiot and i need people to know that he is not!! over the course of the entire story, he transforms from a dumbass criminal into a decently competent guy, and that’s a very important part of his character that the tv show didn’t explore at all. (it also has an impact on his relationship with flagg, but i’ll talk about that later!)

one of his newly discovered skills is that he’s an expert diplomat! he’s had to deal with his fair share of crazy people throughout his life, and that has taught him how to anticipate and de-escalate conflict to protect himself and others from getting hurt. that’s a damn good skill to have, working for a guy like randall flagg. it’s implied that this is the only reason he’s survived for so long.

also, he’s good with kids!! can you believe it!! the former mass murderer is super loved by all the kids in vegas!! in particular, this four year old boy named dinny loves him to death. lloyd always gives him chocolate whenever he sees him and it’s the cutest thing ever. <3

he takes showers. like. all the time. dayna calls it his “cleanliness compulsion.” it’s not talked about much, but it’s heavily implied to be a trauma response from his time in prison. (and the ongoing trauma of las vegas probably doesn’t help.)

even though he gets a lot smarter under flagg’s command, his memory is still fucking awful. so, to avoid the risk of possibly forgetting something important, he carries around this little black notebook called his “memory book” where he keeps track of all the things he has to get done.

one of his main responsibilities in las vegas is to supervise/carry out public executions. he doesn’t like this job, but he gets it done, anyway. and this is so interesting, especially when it’s contrasted with how outraged he was when he was going to get the death penalty, earlier in the book!!

he dies with the most iconic last words ever: “oh shit, we’re all fucked!”

flagg:

okay. here’s the thing. i don’t actually know a lot about flagg off the top of my head. i spend a lot of time thinking about lloyd (in case you couldn’t tell!) and usually only think about flagg when he factors into my thoughts about lloyd. but, since you asked, i can provide a few details!

flagg’s background is vague, even to him. he says that at some point he just "became.” but he has fleeting memories of being a marine, a klansman, a viet cong member, and having a hand in the kidnapping of patty hearst.

he’s very well-read. his pockets are stuffed with pamphlets on various topics with all different kinds of rhetoric, and he pulls from this broad spectrum of knowledge to sympathize with certain people and convince them to join his side.

he uses fake names all the time. they all have the initials ‘r.f.’

he has a lot of other nicknames, too. the people in vegas are afraid to say his name, so they call him a lot of different things: the dark man, the walkin’ dude, the hardcase, the midnight rambler… the list goes on.

in addition to not wanting to say his name, the people of vegas usually make the sign of the cross, genuflect, or make the sign of the evil eye whenever his name is brought up in conversation, as if to protect themselves.

lloydflagg:

the last lines of chapter thirty-nine, when they meet in the prison for the first time, are: “lloyd turned and looked into that grinning face with something more than gratitude. he looked at flagg with something like love.” <3

as a whole, lloyd’s relationship with flagg is very complicated. lloyd carries a mixture of reverence and fear when he’s around him — and, when things start to go downhill, he starts to question just how capable flagg really is. HOWEVER, and this is the most important thing: it does not change his loyalty to flagg. not even a little. most people would probably be looking for the fastest way out, if they were in his position, but he doesn’t. he does as he’s told, and puts up with flagg’s crazy evil shenanigans, without even considering the idea of leaving his side.

towards the end of the novel, lloyd actually has a chance to get out; one of his friends tells him he’s thinking of leaving vegas, and asks him to come along, but he says no. and he has this entire monologue where he talks about how grateful he is to flagg, how he feels like flagg changed him — he made him smarter, made him better, and without him, lloyd thinks, he would be nothing. so, he can’t even think of leaving vegas, because he can’t live without him. the new miniseries fucked this up so badly by trying to give him a “redemption arc,” and i’m only slightly (extremely) upset about it!

without a doubt, the most important flagg/lloyd scene happens after glen bateman dies. in the book, that whole confrontation takes place in a prison (!!!) and it’s not being televised, it’s just the three of them, and it’s so much more intense and intimate because of that. in this version, glen mocks flagg right to his face, and flagg gets so enraged that he orders lloyd to kill him. lloyd struggles to do it — not because he’s reluctant to do as flagg asks, but because he’s so physically and mentally drained that he can’t even shoot straight. glen tries to appeal to lloyd’s better nature, but it ultimately ends the same way: with lloyd putting bullet after bullet through him. and when it’s done, flagg gets all gentle and praises lloyd for doing as he was told. and then he coaxes lloyd to renew his promise of unconditional loyalty. the same promise he made in a different jail cell, so many months ago. and lloyd, despite all of his doubts, assures flagg that he is still his “good and faithful servant.” and he always will be.

#this is probably way more information than you wanted but i couldn’t help myself lmfao #i tried to be normal and stick to the basic facts but somehow i STILL managed to infodump?? #and we’ve barely scratched the surface of all the things i know about them #there’s so much more i could say!! #to everybody reading this: PLEASE ask me more about lloyd i love talking about him lmfao #anyway thank you again for the ask!!! #lloyd henreid #randall flagg #<3 #the stand

[canofspooks]

DannyMay Day 25 (Blame)

Summary: Danny blames himself for his parent’s death. He doesn’t cope well.

Word: 733

content warnings for alcoholism and allusions to suicide, i guess?

He wished he had the money for good flowers - the kind you buy from an actual florist, not the kind you pluck from your local highschool's garden and mix in with fake store-bought flowers to lessen the guilt of stealing from literal children.

His parents deserved good flowers. Fitting, then, that he couldn't give them what they deserved.

Danny laid the makeshift bouquet on the grave and stepped back. There wasn't anything more to say that hadn't already been said thousands of times over the last five years. "I'm sorry" was too shallow. "I wish it could've gone different," too callous. Instead, he stayed silent, reading the nicks and grooves of the stone more than the engraving.

There was no comforting presence. No supernatural sense that his parents were watching. He wished they would find a way to haunt him, to make up for what he did. But he knew ghosts, and he knew there was no way Jack and Maddie Fenton could come back.

Danny woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. The perfect way to start a Monday. He rolled out of bed and shuffled over to his crumpled uniform in the corner of the room. He could try to call out, but he knew there'd be nobody to cover for him, and then he'd have a different sort of headache once he got chewed out by his boss for leaving the place unattended.

The thick smell of grease was suffocating on a hangover. Who the fuck even ordered a burger at 8 in the morning anyway?

Danny looked at the clock. 10. So what if his sense of time was suffering a little? At least the hours went by quicker. At least he could quietly wallow in his own misery when the rest of the people scheduled for the next four hours were no-shows. And he could hide away in a back corner of the room with no cameras or windows and relieve his headache with a quick dip into his ghost form until the ding of the front door opening meant another person making the questionable first decision of the day to eat at the Nasty Burger - likely one of many to come.

12. Still no one else showed. Reliable old Danny Fenton could hold down the fort, surely.

He so badly wanted to quit.

Another ding of the door, another indeterminate amount of time he'd be kept away from his cozy, dark corner in the back. He plastered on an empty smile and stepped out to the register. Then his smile dropped.

"Tuck?"

"Hey Danny, you busy?" His friend had grown. Like, a lot. Phone calls and photos didn't convey just how much Tucker towered over him now. As if there was anything else he needed to feel insecure about.

Danny looked around at the empty Nasty Burger, then at his friend. "Full house. Can't chat or I'll get axed. No, Tuck, what brings you out to Amity Park?"

"Danny, I'm not asking anymore. I'm telling you, we're getting you out of this dump. You can't keep ignoring my calls - I thought you'd died!"

He scoffed. "What? Me? Dead? Why would you think that? I'm doing fine."

Tucker looked at him, unimpressed. "You ghosted me. Right before the anniversary. Am I supposed to not freak out?"

"Well, now you're here, and you can see I'm alive. Thank you for checking up on me, but I'm doing great."

"I checked your apartment first. You left the door unlocked."

Danny wet his dry lips. "Fuck. Forgot."

"Jagermeister, seriously?"

"I don't know what to tell you, man." Danny threw up his arms. "It still fucking hurts - how can it not? I'm not just a fuck-up, my parents are gone because of me!"

"What you did was in self-defense. I'm not saying you have to get over it, I'm just saying that it might be good for you to get a change of scenery, be around people who love you. If you stay in this ghost town any longer, I'm - I'm just scared I'm gonna wake up one morning to a call and you're not gonna be on the other end."

He searched Tucker's face, lost.

Ding.

"We can talk later. I'm still on shift," Danny mumbled. He pushed back the haze of emotions before it could condense into a tidal wave.

Tucker nodded slowly. "But we are talking later."

#spooks reign of terror #dannymay2023 #danny phantom #it's a lot harder for me to stretch these prompts out since they're so... emotion-heavy #that's okay tho. i can make up for the word count elsewhere

[smol-lydia]

Skin of My Teeth Pt 2 Viktor x Fem!Reader (SFW)

Just a little sick!fic where Viktor finds his lab assistant unwell, and is doing his damndest to care for her. Unbeknownest to him, his tough as nails mechanically minded assistant has been harboring a small crush on him for quite a while, and this is no ordinary flu. 

CW/TW for drug mention; based on my experience withdrawing from opiates happy over 100 days of clean time to me!! 

Reader is heavily influenced by Kaylee from Firefly I’ll own that lmao also Kai’sa is in Arcane now sorry not sorry 

----

You don’t recall falling asleep, but you wake with a start, your hair a mess and drool on your pillow. Your mouth still tastes sour from the vomit, and as you sit up, rubbing at your sleep-crusted eyes, you realize Viktor has kept his word, sitting on your bed, humming a tune you don’t recognize. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” 

You feel like you’ve been put through the wringer, and you know that you still have a ways to go. 

“It’s quite all right,” he says. “You need the rest.” 

You are once again struck by the sweetness of him; really, there’s no reason for your lab partner/boss to go the extra mile for you. In the lab, you and Viktor are both focused on the work in front of you, carried away by your passions. His for science, yours for mechanics. 

You were mostly self taught until you got your scholarship to the Academy, an innate knack for tinkering that resulted in fixing everything you could get your hands on back home. A way to keep things running the extra mile, a necessity turned to joy. A scrubby girl with dirt on her face, never fitting in with the other girls your age. 

Most of your conversations with Viktor up until this point have been focused on the projects at hand. Nothing personal or vulnerable. Hence your surprise that he noticed you were unwell to begin with. 

“(Y/N)?” 

“Huh?” You blink, and feel your cheeks heat up when you realize that as you’ve gotten lost in your thoughts you’ve been staring at the beauty mark above Viktor’s lip. Janna above. 

“I asked how you were feeling now,” he says gently. 

“Oh.” Your stomach lurches, a reminder that you aren’t out of the woods yet. “Not much better,” you admit. You push the covers back, panic blooming in your chest. “Viktor, I’m sorry, I—“ 

Off you go again, running to the toilet to empty your stomach contents once again, your head spinning. Misery. This is misery. Gods, you would give anything for a bit of shimmer now, to ease your suffering, even if you know it will only cause the cycle to begin again. 

“Please, don’t apologize,” he murmurs, pulling back a stray lock of your hair out of your face. “I only want to make sure you’re all right. After all, what am I to do without the Academy’s best mechanical mind?” 

You laugh weakly. “I think that’s relative.” 

Viktor shakes his head. “You undersell your good qualities, (y/n). Truly.” 

He has you by the waist to help you back into bed, and you can’t help it—his touch lights you on fire with only the thin cotton of your chemise separating your skin from his. 

Pathetic, that’s what you are, but you can’t help it. 

The words slip out without you meaning them to. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew.” 

Dark brows knit together in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

Your laugh is bitter. “I don’t have the flu, Viktor.” 

His honey eyes darken as he takes in the implication of your words. “Ah, I see.” 

It’s those three words that haunt you long after he leaves, knowing that you have irrevocably screwed things up. Words you wish you could take back, just like every other mistake you’ve made up until this point.

—-

So maybe you took a few extra days to lick your wounds. Was it a little pathetic? Probably, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look Viktor in the eye now that he knew your secret. 

“Is it really that bad?” Your suite mate, Kai’sa, sat in your worn reading chair, sipping on mint tea. She’s the closest you have to a friend here at the Academy. 

You groan, rubbing your throbbing temples. You still feel like dirt. “He just left, Kai.” 

She tucks a loose strand of purple hair behind her ear. “Listen, (y/n) you know I’m not the type to cut men any sort of slack.” 

You nod, drawing your knees up to your chest. 

“But would Viktor really leave you in the lurch like that, with no explanation?” She continues, finishing her tea. “If I am wrong, of course, you know I’ll be first in line to knee him in the balls. I think, though, there’s more we don’t know.” 

You wrap your arms around your knees, not allowing yourself to hope. “Maybe.”

“Besides,” she says. “You have to face him eventually.” 

You groan. “That’s not reassuring, Kai’sa.” 

“Is it supposed to be?” She rolls her violet eyes. “It takes a lot to kick this kind of habit. You’re no coward, (y/n).” 

You know Kai’sa doesn’t mean her words as a dare, but you take it as one anyway. 

—

You put more care into your appearance than you’ll ever admit. Washing your face, combing out your hair and tying it back into a high ponytail, even fishing out an old hair ribbon from somewhere. Dabbing a little bit of solid perfume at your pulse points. 

Your muscles still ache from withdrawals but at least you can hold down water now; your reflection looks somewhat gaunt in the mirror. You’ve definitely lost weight unintentionally, your uniform somewhat ill-fitting but you try your best regardless. Not much can be done about the rips in your knee high stockings, and you smooth out your skirt, nerves buzzing in the pit of your stomach. 

Maybe Viktor won’t say anything at all. Perhaps this will just be a blip that never happened, an odd anomaly that you could almost dismiss as a fever dream or drug induced hallucination. 

That is, until you open the front door and see a small parcel with a note attached. Curious, you pick it up, opening the package first—no matter how many times your mother told you to read the card first you were always impatient and wanted the present first. 

Within there is a small glass bottle with a cork stopper, some kind of mysterious liquid. You almost want to dismiss it as a prank until you recognize the handwriting on the label of the bottle. It’s Viktor’s scrawl, and your heart skips a beat. 

With trembling hands, you turn your attention to the note that came with the card. 

Dear (y/n), 

I apologize for leaving so abruptly. I will admit that spoken conversation is not always my strongest suit, and you deserved a better response for my departure and absence. 

Seeing you suffer so terribly with your withdrawal symptoms I knew I wanted to find a way to ease your pain, so I went to the lab to come up with a draught to lessen the worst of the effects. 

Please let me know if it is of help to you. 

Viktor. 

Your chest tightens reading his words once, then twice, letting them sink in. He didn’t hate you, didn’t think of less of you for your addiction. Part of you wants to cry at the sweetness of the gesture, another part wants to slap him upside the head for being such a useless boy, leaving you in limbo. Even if you know rationally that your distress was yours alone. 

You wipe at your eyes where tears have gathered at the corners and put the note and the bottle in your leather messenger bag, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Viktor, you sweet, stupid idiot,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Thank you.” 

—-

You stand in front of the door to the lab for far longer than necessary, trying to find the courage to go in. Breathe in, breathe out. You can do this. Yet your palms are sweating and your heart is still beating far too quickly and you feel dizzy for reasons unrelated to the shimmer leaking out of your pores. 

“Hey, (y/n)!” Jayce breezes past you with a cup of coffee and a sunny smile. “Good to see you back.” 

“Thanks.” You manage to give him a small smile. 

“Vik mentioned you had a flu.” Jayce wrinkles his nose. “That’s no fun. Hope you’re feeling better now. He’s in the kitchen making coffee if you want a cup before we get started.” 

“Sure. Right. Great.” You nod mechanically and turn towards the small kitchen off to the side of the lab. 

You’ve spent many a late night here, drinking coffee with Jayce and Viktor, occasionally rummaging for snacks. Trying to work out problems, but more often giving the pair of them a hard time for the hell of it. 

Viktor likes to make coffee in the tradition that’s common for his people in Zaun—thick and dark and sweet, with foam and boiled in a small copper pot directly on the stove. The first time you had it, it packed such a punch you stayed up all night. Still, you would have anything Viktor made, and he approached his coffee with a sort of love and care you find endearing. 

He’s bent over the stove when you enter the kitchen, uncertain of your steps, like a newborn deer. 

“Hey,” you say softly, and he turns around, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him, that messy hair hanging in his honey eyes. 

“Good morning, (y/n),” he replies. “How are you feeling?” 

You hop up on the counter to sit. Somehow that feels more solid than standing right now. Viktor pours two cups of coffee and hands one to you. 

“A bit better,” you say. You wrap your hands around the mug, savoring the warmth. “Not great, but I’ll take it.” 

“About the other day—“ he says, right as you say 

“Viktor—“ 

“Go ahead,” he says. Always the gentleman, and you find yourself blushing at that thought. 

“Just. Thank you. For the medicine. And the note. It was very kind. And for taking care of me. You didn’t have to do that, I’m just your assistant and you showed up for me and stayed and it just…it meant a lot and…” 

Oh gods, you’re babbling and you don’t know how to stop. 

Viktor puts down his coffee and walks over to you, looking up at you, directly into your eyes. It hurts, how beautiful he is, with those sculpted cheekbones you’ve dreamed of tracing with your fingers. 

“It is no problem, (y/n). I wish I had spoken to you in a way…” he sighs. “I am sorry. I couldn’t stand to see you so ill and there was nothing I could do.” 

Your mouth goes dry. You lick your chapped lips and put down your mug. “Viktor, I didn’t expect you to care for me. Truly, you did so much. I’m grateful.” 

He furrows his brows at this, a stormy expression on his face, and you wonder what you’ve said wrong. “Why did you think I wouldn’t care for you?” 

Panic seizes you. “Oh no, it’s not like that! I don’t think it’s a reflection on your character, you see. It’s just….I’m just like, your co-worker, y’know? Just the mechanic. So I didn’t think…I didn’t expect…” 

Oh god, oh fuck, what a mess you’ve made. You want to crawl into a hole. 

“Just a mechanic? No, no.” The way Viktor looks at you in that moment makes you feel as though you could melt, and you are suddenly quite grateful you aren’t standing up because you’re not sure that your knees would support you right now. 

“(y/n)….you are so much more to me than that.” 

#viktor arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #viktor x reader fic #viktor x reader arcane #viktor x y/n #viktor x you #viktor imagine #arcane fanfic #my fic writing #my fic

[fruit-of-infidelity]

♱ DIABOLIK LOVERS: Haunted Dark Bridal ー Sakamaki Ryuuto | Heaven 01 ♱

⌜ Scene: Living Room ⌟

Yui: U-Uhm, Ryuuto-san?

I really don’t know about this…

( I can’t look anywhere but at my feet. If I do, I’m afraid I might… )

Ryuuto: How on earth do you expect to get any better at painting if you don’t practise?

What’s more… You should be grateful that I’m to be your muse tonight.

Yui: E-Even so, why do you have to be, you know…

Ryuuto: Naked?

Yui: ( D-Don’t say it so casually! )

( There’s no way he can expect me to paint seriously when he’s like this, right!? )

A-Aren’t you embarrassed, doing this…?

Ryuuto: Art is nothing to be embarrassed about.

If you don’t have a proper model for you to learn your anatomy from, you won’t be able to understand nearly as much as you should.

For example…

ー Ryuuto shifts to show some of his body off. ー

Notice how this muscle on the upper thigh here is far more prominent when I flex and turn this way? What’s more…

If I were to roll my hips forward, like this, itーー

Yui: ーーPlease, Ryuuto-san, at least cover your more private places!

Ryuuto: …Fufu, what a reaction.

If you cannot focus on this as merely art, you have no one else to blame but yourself. It’s your lewd mind, after all, that’s hindering you.

Yui: Lewd mind…!? It’s not that!

Ryuuto: Then, look at me, Pet. 

Yui: I-I…

( If I look, I might see a little too much! )

Ryuuto: Look.

━─┉┈◈ Selection ◈┈┉─━

　　❈  Look at him

Yui: ( Okay, Yui. If you keep your eyes straight ahead, on his… Everything should be fine. )

… …

Ryuuto: Very good. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?

Yui: ( E-Even out of my peripheral vision, I’m seeing more than I want! )

( Th-There’s no way I can keep this up! )

Uu… I can’t!

　　❈  Cover your eyes

Yui: ( Th-That’s… There’s just no way! )

I-I’m sorry, I can’t do that! Not while you’re totally naked!

Ryuuto: Fufu, so you’ve resorted to covering your eyes?

Yui: This way, I-I don’t have to worry about seeing too much!

( You could make this so much easier i-if you just covered yourself! )

━━─┉┈┈◈◉◈┈┈┉─━━

Ryuuto: Goodness me, Pet… You’re acting incredibly shy. You were far less bashful in the bedroom, last I remember.

What’s come over you all of a sudden?

Yui: Don’t b-bring that up here and now!

Ryuuto: All I am suggesting is that perhaps we ought to continue these paint lessons later tonight. Would you be far more confident, then?

Especially if you also stripped down, for our lessons.

Yui: R-Ryuuto-san…!

Ryuuto: I suppose that’s a “no”, then?

ー Ryuuto stands up from the couch. ー

In that case… Perhaps this ought to make it easier.

ー He comes closer. ー

Yui: ( I can hear him coming closer and closer… )

Wh-What are you doing?

Ryuuto: Try not to sound so suspicious of me. You don’t truly think I would do anything too rash, after all, do you?

Yui: If you say it with that tone, I don’t know if I can be so sure…

( I can feel him standing right in front of me… Oh dear, I’m feeling so hot! )

Ryuuto: If you aren’t to use your eyes… then use your hands, instead.

ー He grasps one of her hands. ー

Yui: What do you mean by that…!?

Ryuuto: Mm… I’ll direct you.

With these warm hands, can you feel myーー

Yui: …!!

( Something… hard, curved… )

( Wh-Where on earth am I touching!? )

ー She pulls away quickly. ー

Th-There’s no way I’m letting you lead me on touching your body like this!

ー There’s some rustling. ー

Ryuuto: Hmm… A-ha.

ー He finally returns to the couch. ー

That should do.

Look at me again, Pet. There should be little to complain about now.

Yui: …Alright, here goes nothing.

…!!

ー He is now covered from the waist down. ー

Ryuuto: Perhaps I threw you a little too far into the deep end.

For now, for us to lay down the foundation of the male figure, I’ll keep myself covered. We’ll simply work our way up from there.

Yui: Phew… That’s better…!

( Even if it’s only the bottom half of him covered with a towel like this, I feel like I’ll be able to pay attention much better now! )

( Saying it like that though, makes me sound like a pervert…! )

W-Wait a moment…! “Work our way up”?

O-One way or another, you’re saying you’ll still end up completely bare!?

Ryuuto: Precisely.

Now, where was I, regarding the male figure?

Yui: ( There’s just no getting out of this, is there? )

( Soon enough, I’m going to see Ryuuto-san completely naked when we have these sessions! As my model, of all things... )

( Uu… My cheeks won’t stop burning at the thought! )

✥ TO BE CONTINUED ✥

─────── ≪ °♛° ≫ ───────

←  [ ✥ Heaven Prologue ✥ ] ⎥ [ ✥ Heaven 02 ✥ ]  →

#(( the infamous heaven scenario is here >< #Diabolik Lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers oc #ryuuto sakamaki #ryuuto route #sakamaki ryuuto #sakamaki ryuuto route #ryuuto sakamaki route #hdbryuutoheaven01 #haunted dark bridal #haunted dark bridal heaven

[morgana-greenleaf]

Bucky Barnes Whump Fic Recs

so, I did a rec list a while back but i've read a lot of fics since then. this is not even close to all the fics i've read, or even all of my favourites. i'm already putting together another list. but hopefully this helps people find something to read.

close your eyes (& don't look up) by stark2ashla (@stark2ashla)

Teen, 1.7k

“Name.”

The electricity stops and Bucky looks up, throat still raw from a scream he can’t remember hearing. Fire dances along his upper body. He’s so tired.

“James,” he says, and pauses to catch his breath.

“Hit him again.”

I've Got Red In My Ledger by undertalefa

Teen, 0.9k

For some people, this is all he can offer. They don’t want flowery words or excuses, no ‘I’m sorry’s or ‘there was nothing I could’ve done’s. They want the satisfaction of causing pain, the catharsis of hurting someone who hurt you first.

It won’t fix anything, won’t change the past, but they both know that.

Bad Things I by bittercape

Teen, 0.1k - winterhawk

Whumptober prompts 12: Torture | Made to watch

Not that graphic violence (because how graphic can you get in 100 words), but nothing good happens here.

My spidey-sense is tingling by undertalefa

Not Rated, 2.3k - sambucky

“I would say you gotta speak to me man, but…”

He’s sure if Bucky’s eyes were open, he would be rolling them. Instead, he very clearly enunciates something Sam interprets as ‘Ha, ha. Funny.’

-

Whumptober 2021, Day #7

the shock from isolation by Lies_Unfurl (@lies-unfurl)

Mature, 8k+ - sambucky

Bucky goes to drastic measures to avoid being triggered by a newly-rediscovered set of words. Afterwards, he and Sam heal together—physically and emotionally.

Unquiet by ealcynn

Teen, 44k

Sam knows if anyone is not to blame for this clusterfuck, it’s Barnes. He’s a victim in all this. A murderous, terrifying, weaponized, six-foot, 260-pound cyborg victim.

Bones of Some Contention by LivingProof

Mature, 14k

For once, it’s not a dark specter from Bucky’s past that’s come back to haunt them. That, as far as he is concerned, is great. A nice change of pace. Something he can bring up next time Sam complains about all the skeletons that are hiding in Bucky’s mansion full of closets.

He’s the one with the gun to his head right now, though, so maybe Sam’s at least got a point with that whole “you can’t even get out of bed in the morning without running into something dangerous” bit that he does.

Or: Somehow, Bucky keeps ending up on the wrong side of the past. Even the pasts that don’t belong to him.

Barium Nights by LivingProof

Mature, 88k

Sam vanishes on what should have been a simple mission to clear out a few wannabe terrorists. And come hell, Hydra, or high water, Bucky is going to find him. Even if the trail takes him to the seedy underbelly of Madripoor, and a host of situations he’d rather avoid. Even if finding Sam might get him killed. Even if the thing that kills him…might be Sam.

Not Your Incentive by MelanieKS (@itsfeistyred)

Mature, 9k

After Sam takes on the mantle of Captain America he tells Bucky to take some time for himself. He deserves it. Begrudgingly, Bucky heeds Sam's advice and goes on a solo road trip cross-country. Of course, nothing ever goes according to plan in the life of Bucky Barnes and he finds himself stranded on the side of the road with a stalled rental, and an unknown number of hostiles surrounding him.

Just a normal day...

The Making of the Winter Soldier (series) by CluckU, Mumble_Bee (@clucku, @mumble--bee)

Mature, 13.7k +

A collection of vignettes exploring the ways in which HYDRA turned Bucky into the Winter Soldier. Can be read as standalones, but may hold more depth if read in order.

one foot by kickflaw (@kickflaw)

Teen, 0.7k

It's on the long, nerve-wracking trudge out from behind German lines, back to the Allied base that this weird big Steve promises is within a day's march, that the first hint of suspicion unfurls in Bucky's mind.

bring me back a dog by accrues

Teen, 1.8k

‘It wasn’t the dogs' fault,’ he told his therapist later, after he put himself together enough to process the memory. ‘They were just doing what they were ordered. They didn’t know how to say no. They couldn’t say no.’

The fallout from Bucky's first escape attempt from Hydra helps Bucky process his trauma later.

Homecoming by winteratdusk (@winteratdusk)

Not Rated, 44k + - stucky

After the fight on the helicarriers, the Soldier means to disappear, but without HYDRA's "maintenance" he isn't able to get far. Steve finds him sick, confused, and in desperate need of help. Over the course of a night, Steve and Bucky both grapple with the damage HYDRA's done, doing their best to weather the storm and make it through to morning.

Aftershocks by Lapwing_Em (@lapwing-em)

Gen, 1.2k

After Walker threw Bucky into the power cables he's more banged up than he wanted to admit. Sam finds him and helps.

on the outside looking through by junipermoss

Not rated, 1.7k - sambucky

He doesn’t know when it was, if it was a year ago or twenty, but he’s seen that face. He’s seen it when he was strapped to a table, or the chair, restraints on his skin and hard rubber between his teeth and electricity splintering through his bones. He’s seen that face a picture of cruelty, a dark smile in a dizzy whirl of pain.

The man shoots him.

Or: Sam is there for Bucky when a mission goes south.

The Last Train by PlaceByTheRiver

Teen, 2.7k

Inspired by a TikTok asking the question: Did anyone ever feel compassion for Bucky while he was held prisoner?

We know what happened to turn James "Bucky" Barnes into the Winter Soldier. This is the story of one of the individuals who helped make the transformation happen.

Brilliant Soviet scientist Galina meets an injured American soldier and tries to comfort him at first; then, she is told what she must help the government do. When you work for the Soviet military, non-compliance is not an option. Even the tiniest deviation from directive must be shrouded in complete secrecy . . .

(This is a prequel for a longer story I am writing, which takes place in present day.)

#please let me know if i've missed any authors' tumblrs #i'm not very good at finding people on tumb;r #bucky barnes #whump #bucky barnes whump #fic recs #bbwfr