#and it’s not like i want to die i just want to stop feeling like this

[monstersflashlight]

It’s finally here, I know I’ve been teasing with this story for weeks but life has been hectic and I wanted to do some requests, but here it is, the forest entity story. Hope y’all enjoy it!

The tree-hole debacle

Forest entity x fem!human || very light dub-con, tentacles (more like vines), bondage, squirting

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no... You kept chanting in your brain. You were trying to reach the fucking shiny thing you saw in the tree's hole and you got stuck. In the middle of the forest. All your torso inside a tree-hole and your legs kicking the air. You couldn't get out. You were stuck. You felt like you were living your own bad porno. Fuck.

You always knew your eagerness to pick stuff in the woods would bring you problems, but you never thought it would be in the shape of a tree. A fucking tree. You were just walking around the forest trying to find some good pieces to build some more fairy jewelry, who knew you could get stuck in a tree. And now you didn’t know what to do, how to get out. A spark of anxiety was creeping up your back. What if you died there? What if they found you dead in a tree-hole? They would think you are a weirdo. Well, in that they wouldn’t be wrong, but that would be so embarrassing. News would say something along the lines of “young girl found in a tree”, and that would be awful in so many levels. God damn it.

You tried crying for help, but you knew there wasn’t anyone coming, you never followed the path, confident you’d find your way back. And you always did, you have some kind of sixth sense about these woods, they called to you. And well, now you called whoever was listening to get you out of that damn tree-hole.

When you felt something creeping behind you, you started kicking your legs, trying to scare whatever animal was close. You didn’t want to be attacked by a random wolf or something. You didn’t even know what kind of animals could roam the forest, you were so careless in the way you explored the woods without thinking about it. You felt like a dummy now, a completely dumb woman who was now stuck in a fucking tree.

Something behind you let out a growl, you started to panic, moving your legs faster, making sounds to scare it away. A light caress to the back of your leg made you twitch, your whole body reacting with full on panic. But before you could scream, you were hanging out upside down, roots embracing your body. You were suspended in the middle of the woods, a weird creature made of leaves and some kind of mud in front of you. He slowly shook your body up and down, making you bounce in an uncomfortable way.

Your confusion, added to being upside down, made your head feel all kinds of dizzy. The roots around you seemed to come from everywhere, like he could control all the things around you. What was he? He answered you without having to verbalize your question: “I’m the spirit of these woods, and you, human, were asking for help. I came.” His voice sounded deep, like if he was talking from inside a cave, an echo of a real voice. Your body shivered.

“I- You- What?” Your confusion at everything happening was making your head spin. He turned you around, hanging you in an upright position this time, your feet still far away from the ground.

“You were screaming, the little creatures came to find me. And here I am,” he explained. His matter of fact statement made you think he was crazy. Maybe you were crazy. Maybe you did die inside that damn tree-hole and all of this was just an hallucination.

“Thanks?” You didn’t know if that was the correct answer, the vines and roots around your body wouldn’t stop twitching, touching, careful not to touch any of your most vulnerable parts. But hey were exploring everything else, caressing your hair, your cheeks, your legs… “Can you put me down?” You asked.

“No.” That instant denial should have scared you, but weirdly enough, you didn’t feel fear or panic anymore. Your body was calm, your mind completely quiet and relaxed. What kind of weird mojo was he doing to you? “You asked for the help of a forest spirit, you need to repay your debt now.” You looked at him expectantly, trying to convey you needed more explanation. He didn’t say anything.

“What the fuck does that mean?” You finally asked, a spark of anger rising inside your chest.

He nodded as if your question was answered like that and said: “I will take you now.” The vines around you started to pull at your clothes. You struggled against the hold, but they were so strong and tight that you could barely move some millimeters.

You struggled harder, screaming at him: “What? No!” You looked at him with all the fire inside of you. If looks could kill, he’d be killed right there, right now. But it wasn’t the case. He just looked amused at your struggles. But he stopped the vines from moving, some of them hovering over your tits and mouth, so close you could smell the petrichor smell they emanated. It was intoxicating.

“You have to pay, human. The balance must be restored.” That made no sense to you, he talked about restoring balance as if you had a debt with the forest or something. What?

“But I didn’t ask for your help.” He looked back at you skeptical, his dark eyes so expressive even though he didn’t have eyelids or brows. His face was so weird, but enthralling at the same time. “Okay, I did need help, but I don’t- I don’t want to have sex with you,” you lied through your teeth.

The truth was that you were aroused, the vines around your body were making you all kinds of horny. You always dreamed of being tied down, of being at the mercy of your partner as they took their fill off you. And without knowing it, he was restraining you, making all your fantasies come to the surface and making your pussy tingle. But you weren’t going to say that to him.

“What is sex, human?” The question caught you off guard, how could he not know what sex was?

“You… You said you’d take me.”

He was looking at you intently, like the answer to your unasked question was obvious and you were just dumb. Maybe you were. “I’ll give you pleasure so your juices can fertilize my forest,” he explained. You could what?

“You what? Fertilize? What?” And then it clicked. “You want to make me cum?” It seemed so random you couldn’t fully process what that meant.

“I believe that’s how humans call it, yes.”

You argued with the angel in your head, but the demon rapidly won the argument and before you could process it fully you were saying: “I- I- Okay.” Your voice was barely a whisper but he nodded and the vines around you closed more firmly against your body, making you shiver. It was weirdly comforting to be held so tightly.

You clothes were pushed away, thrown carelessly to the ground and you found yourself wrapped in vines and roots, suspended in the air. He opened your legs fully, exposing your holes to his eyes. He approached you then, his weird face close to your pussy, but not touching. The leaves around his head tickled the inside of your legs as he inspected you, his breath cold against your heated skin. You whimpered, being exposed to him so openly was embarrassing beyond belief, but the juices dripping off your cunt were even worse.

He reached around him and took some kind of leave, different to the ones covering his head. He squeezed it until a clear substance formed. He coated one of the vines with, the vine shifted into a wider form, cupping your whole pussy, coating it with the substance. At first, you felt nothing, but suddenly scolding heat ran through your body and you came. Just like that. You came faster than ever, he didn’t do anything, he didn’t touch your clit, your entrance… He just put some magical liquid over your cunt and made you cum. What the fuck?

You didn’t get to catch your breath before another vine was proving your entrance, making you moan loudly as it pushed inside. Two more vines appeared, framing your boobs and squeezing, some leaves playing with your nipples at the same time. The pleasure was maddening. The combined sensation of the vine entering you and the leaves was so overwhelming that you came again. This time your scream was cut short when another vine pushed against your asshole. Surprise and arousal made you arch your back, which was fruitless, the restrains on your body so tight you couldn’t move at all.

He was still close, observing the vines playing with your body, controlling everything but not touching you. You felt dehumanized, you were just a means to an end for him. And that made you hot. You could be anybody, everybody. He didn’t care. He just wanted your juices… And he was milking every drop off you.

The vine on your pussy pressed against your G-spot, the sensation too rough and raw. Some more juices gushed around it as you came again. He hit and probed and pushed and made your mind go blank as he transformed your body into a pleasure machine. You came, and came, and came. You were sure there was a river down your legs at that point. You were crying, tears running down your face as he assaulted all your sensitive areas at once. Your body felt like an exposed nerve.

When you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he pushed a new vine in your already overflowing pussy. You saw stars as the vines inside of you intertwined. You were so full, so sensitive, you couldn’t stop crying in pleasure, your voice long gone.

And then something inside of you broke completely and you were peeing. Peeing? No, squirting. He made you squirt. Your juices flowed over him, showering his leaves like summer rain. You ascended to another plane, the pleasure beyond human realm, the orgasm so good your brain broke a bit.

He stopped abruptly, his leaves shiny and his face contorted in some sort of a grin. “That would be all, human. You paid the debt to the forest.” You blushed deeply as he lowered your naked body to the ground, a bed of moss forming under you. “I’ll see you soon,” he muttered as he disappeared before your eyes. The earth literally swallowed him.

#forest entity #forest spirit #forest entity x human #forest entity x reader #monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster x reader #terato

[nectardaddy]

dating megumi fushiguro headcanons

side eyes - constantly

to the point where you start doing it too

and now you're just judging people together

would genuinely laugh out loud if you made an off hand comment to someone

"yuuji- are you stupid? what the fuck are you doing?" he'd be fighting off his laughter are you kidding??

type of guy who definitely says he hates your taste in shows

but then he actually starts watching them with you

now he's invested in something like grey's anatomy and having full fledged debates with you

"now why would she do that? is that even medically legal??" "gumi' it's just a show-" "you wanted this. so answer the question."

maybe a little too blunt sometimes like

"please just stop talking"

"what is wrong with you?"

"sometimes I think you like to piss me off"

he's all huffy when he apologizes for it though

don't ask this man for help on homework, it's like asking a boomer to help you with math "what do you mean you don't understand??"

a sweatheart in his own little way though

sharing food, listening to music with you, giving you his jacket (after he complains about it)

definitely hides his feelings in front of others though, he'd DIE if gojo ever found out

I could think of more probably, he's been on the brain lately.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

[flickering-chandelier]

To Love a Beast

Pairing: Mob Boss Azriel x Secretary Reader

Summary: Azriel comes back bloody from a job, and Reader is there to help stitch him up, even though he snapped at her and hurt her feelings earlier. Her gentle touch makes Azriel see her in a new light, until he can’t think of anything else. 

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: smut, blood, brief allusions to violence (guns & knives briefly mentioned), swearing, Azriel being an asshole 

Word Count: 3k

Azriel picked up his pistol and tucked it into his jacket, the last of a fully loaded arsenal hidden beneath his clothing. He could feel your eyes on him from your desk, the light illuminating the book on your lap, your pink dress nearly glowing in the dim light.

“Wait,” you said as he was about to leave. He turned back, surprised, as you stepped right up to him and straightened his jacket, your touch lingering just a little too long, your big doe eyes looking up at him from under your lashes. “You shouldn’t be going alone.”

He scoffed. “I can handle it,” he said gruffly. 

You put your hands on your hips, glaring up at him and Azriel almost laughed. “I’m serious. You don’t know what you’re walking into. It could be an ambush.”

Azriel leaned down menacingly, looking right into your eyes, the exact way he looked at the people he was about to kill. “Sweetheart, why don’t you stick to your job, and I’ll stick to mine, alright?”

Reeling back slightly like you had been physically attacked, you narrowed your eyes at him, clearly furious. “There’s no need to be a condescending jackass. Don’t you think I’ve been around this business long enough to know a thing or two?”

The short leash on Azriel’s temper was starting to slacken. “You’re the goddamn secretary. You don’t tell me what to do,” he barked.

“I’m not telling you what to do,” you said, a fire lighting in your eyes that he had never before seen. “I’m suggesting that if you don’t want to die, you should bring backup-”

“Enough,” he roared. 

You recoiled, shrinking back behind your desk. Tears brimmed your eyes as you said quietly, your voice cracking, “I was just trying to help. Believe it or not, some of us actually care if you come back alive or not.” And without another word, you walked past him, out the door. 

Azriel sighed, running a hand down his face, surprised by the slight twinge of guilt in his chest at your reaction. Great. Now he would have to deal with that in the morning.

Cursing, Azriel limped inside the dark office, holding the gash in his side with bloody knuckles. You had been right. The target knew he was coming, and had a whole gang of minions ready to attack Azriel. If he hadn’t been so damn good at his job, he’d be dead for sure.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when you peaked your head out from under the desk. 

“What the fuck. Why are you hiding under there?” he yelled.

“I forgot my book,” you said, your voice clearly edged with worry as your eyes trailed over him. “Looks like you ran into more than you bargained for.”

“What, you want me to tell you that you were right, and I was wrong?” he seethed through clenched teeth.

“It would be nice,” you mused, back to your normal self after he had snapped at you. He was thankful for that, at least. “Sit,” you said, nodding to the armchair. 

“Stop telling me what to do,” he snapped again, unable to reign in his temper.

You looked hurt for a moment before you masked it. “Fine. Bleed out, then.” 

As you turned toward the door, Azriel cursed under his breath and slumped into the chair. “Wait. Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

You paused, turning back to face him, your eyes narrowed as you studied him. “Thank you,” you said quietly, before pulling out the heavy duty first aid kit from the bottom drawer of your desk and turning the overhead lights on, illuminating the space, and the blood on him. 

Pulling up a chair next to him, you surveyed the injuries you could see. “What’s the worst of it?” you asked. 

Slowly, he pulled his hand away from his side, where he had been slashed with one of the cronies’ knives. 

“Shit,” you said quietly, standing up to gingerly help him out of his suit jacket. Then you stood in front of him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders. He watched your fingers work in steady, sure movements. 

He noticed you swallow hard as your gaze raked down his exposed chest and a smug satisfaction coursed through him. In all the years that you had been working for his family, you had never been the one to help patch him up after a job. 

Gingerly, you started cleaning the gash with a damp towel, wiping the blood away so you could clearly see how deep the cut went. Azriel reigned in a hiss at the contact, clenching his fists, determined not to make a sound. “Doesn’t look too bad,” you said finally. “I think I should be able to patch it without any stitches.”

Azriel was thankful for that, thankful for how gentle your touch was, how soft your fingertips were as they moved with purpose across his skin. He was mesmerized, watching you work, your lips pursed, your brow furrowed in concentration. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to still be here after you walked out,” he said gruffly, needing to distract himself from your fingers before his mind wandered too far.

“I wouldn’t have walked out if you hadn’t scolded me like I’m a child,” you said with a certain bite to your voice he was not accustomed to, as you delicately taped gauze to his skin, sealing in the wound. 

“I wouldn’t have scolded you if you wouldn’t have acted like a little know it all,” he countered. 

You looked up at him then, that fire in your eyes burning brighter than he had ever seen it. It knocked the breath right out of his lungs. “I was right though, wasn’t I?” You said quietly, boldly raising your eyebrow in question. 

Heat ran right through him at that look in your eye, at the boldness that it took to speak to him that way. He found himself wondering how he had never noticed it before, how brave, how valuable you were. 

How beautiful you were, he thought, as his eyes trailed down from your big beautiful eyes, down your neck, your hair spilling down your shoulders, down to the tiny bit of cleavage poking out from your dress, your hips that the dress hugged just right, your long legs that were somehow folded in a ladylike position despite the task at hand. 

He cleared his throat suddenly. “Can you clean up the gash on my forehead? I don’t like getting blood in my eyes.”

You smiled at him, knowing that he was unwilling to acknowledge that you had won. It made him even more attracted to you. 

Azriel took a steadying breath as you left him alone for a moment to get another wet towel. When you came back you dabbed at the cut above his left eye, more gently than he would have thought possible. He watched your eyes, your lips, your throat as you worked. 

“I am glad you’re okay, you know,” you said so quietly he almost didn’t hear it.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out and caught your wrist in his hand, stilling your movements, forcing your gaze to meet his. “I’m sorry I made you cry,” he said as gently as he had ever said anything. “I never meant to hurt you.”

You swallowed, and Azriel’s eyes tracked the movement. “I didn’t think you cared,” you said quietly. 

He winced slightly. “To be honest with you, I didn’t think I did either… but, I do.”

Your eyes dipped to his lips for the slightest moment before you cleared your throat and pulled away slightly. Azriel let his hand drop from yours as you continued to clean the cut on his forehead. 

As he watched you, his gaze snagging on your lips, his mind wandered to all those years that you had been there, sitting at that desk, a steady presence, always there for whatever needed to be done. He had never noticed before how integral you were in his life, and he felt like the most foolish kind of asshole for never noticing how perfect you were. 

For years, he barely paid attention to you, and now he really felt like if he couldn’t kiss you, he might die. 

The two of you remained silent as you placed gauze on the cut, then surveyed him again, gingerly pulling his hand into your lap and cleaning his bloody knuckles. Your skin, the fabric of your dress, was so soft against his callused, scarred hand, and his fingers flexed where they rested in your lap. He marveled at how you took such care to be gentle, even after everything he had said and done that night. 

“There,” you said quietly, after his hands were clean, your eyes meeting his for the first time in several minutes. “All better.”

“Almost,” he smirked. “Still hurts like hell.”

“What, you want me to kiss it better?” You said sarcastically, smiling. 

Azriel raised his eyebrows. “I think that might help.”

You stilled, holding his gaze, and Azriel swore he could see the battle in your mind, whether to walk away or take him up on it just to be a smartass. He desperately hoped you would pick the latter. 

When he saw your eyes spark with challenge, he knew what you would do. 

Agonizingly slowly, you brought his hand up to your lips, not breaking eye contact with him. You pressed a feather light kiss across his knuckles, and the touch went all the way through him, tingling into his toes. 

“Where else does it hurt?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He swallowed, then lightly ran his index finger along the cut on his forehead. 

You stood, your eyes locked on his as you slowly, gently placed your hands on both of his cheeks, tilting his face up before brushing a kiss to his forehead, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest moment as your lips graced his skin. 

It took everything in him to keep his hands at his sides, to not grab your hips and pull you down on top of him. 

Pulling back to look at him again, you raised your eyebrow. A silent question. A new dance you were both learning the steps to in tandem.

He didn’t think he was breathing as he took your hand in his and guided it to the bandage on his abdomen. 

Your eyes sparked again as you sank to your knees in front of him. He felt his need for you growing at the sight, at the thought of what else you could be doing on your knees like that. 

You looked up at him from under your lashes, as you leaned forward, kissing a line across the bandage and over his skin. 

He caught your chin as you moved to pull away, guiding you back to him. You smiled faintly before dropping your eyes to his chest, peppering light kisses across his abs. 

After you pulled away, you stayed on your knees, looking up at him expectantly. 

Azriel frankly thought that he had been showing remarkable restraint up until this point, and he didn’t think he could handle it anymore. Your name came out as a growl as he took your face in his hands and pulled you up, settling you on his lap, straddling him, before he brought your mouth to his. 

Immediately you melted into him, pressing your body fully against his. One of Azriel’s hands slid down to your waist, the other coming behind your neck, lightly stroking his thumb down, making you shiver. 

You wound your hands into his hair, groaning into his mouth, and he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking up into yours, his hand trailing down to grip your ass lightly through your dress for a moment, before moving back down to your thigh, sneaking up underneath your dress, his thumb tracing the edge of your panties. 

“Azriel,” you moaned, throwing your head back, and he immediately moved his lips to your neck, kissing gently before nipping with his teeth. You gasped, tightening your grip on his hair and he groaned into your skin. 

Gently, he wrapped a hand around your throat, capturing your lips with his, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he continued tracing the outline of your underwear.

You began to rock your hips against him, and he couldn't take it anymore, had never wanted anybody so badly in his life. 

He tugged your panties to the side, running his thumb along your entrance. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You're so wet for me, sweetheart.”

Whimpering, your head slumped forward, resting on his shoulder as he slowly slid a finger into you. You dug your fingers into his biceps, moving against his hand.

“You want more, baby?” He murmured, his mouth at your ear. 

You nodded into his shoulder.

“I'm going to need you to say it,” he teased, grazing his teeth down your neck.

Groaning, your face still buried in his neck, you said quietly into his skin, “I want more.”

“That's my girl,” he said, smacking your ass as he slid another finger inside you, quickly pumping in and out.

You practically screamed when he curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. You finally held your head up, grabbing his wrist, looking at him with wide, lust filled eyes. “If you don't stop, I'm gonna--”

Azriel smirked, not slowing his rhythm. “Come? You're gonna come for me?”

Biting your lip, you didn't respond.

“It's okay baby, you can come. That's what you want, isn't it?” He said sweetly.

You nodded, unable to meet his eyes. 

He took your throat in his hand again, forcing you to look at him. “Look at me when I make you come,” he growled.

And that was enough to send you over the edge. You did as you were told, looking right into his eyes as you screamed. He helped you through it, not stopping his movements until you were slumped against him.

He gently ran his hands through your hair, soothingly down your back as you caught your breath.

When you looked back up at him expectantly, his heart swelled. “You ready to call it a night?” He asked.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. “Absolutely not.”

“Good,” he smirked, standing up and taking you with him, his arms wrapped around your waist, carrying you like it was nothing. You shrieked as he picked you up and giggled when he strode across the room and set you on the desk. 

You parted your legs and he stepped in between them, sliding your sleeves down your shoulders, pushing your dress all the way down to your waist. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he kissed down your neck, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the floor. 

Clinging to his bare shoulders, you were gasping as he took your breasts in his hands, circling your nipple with his thumb.

Suddenly, he pulled you off the desk so you were standing, and pushed your dress down, making it fall to the floor, before ripping your panties in half, and dropping to his knees in front of you. 

“Azriel,” you gasped.

“Sorry,” he said, smirking up at you, his mouth barely an inch from where he needed it to be. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

And then he was tasting you, tasting the proof of how badly you wanted him and you were moaning, leaning against the desk to keep yourself upright, your hands weaving into his hair again, pushing him deeper into you. He groaned, wrapping his hands around the backs of your knees, grounding himself. 

He chuckled against you when you started squirming, your legs shaking, little whines coming out from the back of your throat.

When the strain of his length against his pants became unbearable, he stood up abruptly and you looked up at him with wide eyes before he kissed you roughly, lifting you to sit on the desk again.

He reveled in the pure lust that clouded your eyes as he undid his belt and dropped his pants to the ground in one swift movement. 

You were immediately reaching for him, pulling his chest to yours, and he watched your eyes widen, your mouth fall open, as he slid inside you in one powerful thrust.

He thought he should probably wait, to give you just a moment to adjust to him, but then you gasped, your mouth against his ear, “More.”

A growl escaped from his throat and without another moment of hesitation, he was pounding into you, your moans and gasps ricocheting off the walls, spurring him on further.

“I thought I told you to stop telling me what to do,” he smirked.

“I'll stop telling you what to do when I stop being right,” you smiled.

Azriel burst out laughing, right there in the middle of the office, buried deep inside you. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed at all.

He marveled at you, this beautiful, brilliant, funny woman, and suddenly could hardly remember a time when he wasn't head over heels for you.

Leaning his forehead against yours for a moment, kissing your lips, he said, “You're incredible, you know that?”

You cupped his cheek with a hand, smiling. “It's about time you figured it out, boss.”

He groaned, leaning back and wrapping your hair around his fist, pulling down gently to expose your neck, to watch your every reaction as he thrusted into you again and again.

It wasn't long until he was close, and he could tell from your panting, your shaking legs, that you were close too.

“Are you going to come for me again?” He murmured, still holding your hair. You nodded, and he pressed on, speeding up his pace. “Yeah? You're gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

You moaned and he smirked, his hips moving in increasingly jerky movements until you tightened around him, crying out, clinging to him.

He came right after, burying his face in your neck and riding out the high with you.

Azriel cupped your face in his hands and kissed you softly. You smiled at him as he pulled on his boxers, then he helped you get dressed, smirking as you picked up the ruined underwear.

“You just had to rip them off, didn't you?” You teased, tossing them at him. 

He shrugged, straightening one of your sleeves. “Maybe you should learn your lesson and not wear any next time.” 

“To work?” 

“My place,” he smirked, taking your hand and pulling your body into his before he kissed you again. “I'll make dinner, tell you how smart and beautiful you are, and then rip your clothes off.”

You smiled, glancing down at your hand interlocked with his before meeting his eyes again. “Sounds like a plan.”

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @melmo567 @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @headacheseason @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel one shot #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel #azriel smut #acotar azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #hurt/comfort #azriel hurt/comfort #azriel modern au #request

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Can I ask for prompt 13, Nightmares?

Yes of course you can! Here you go!

Summary: Astarion wakes from a particularly bad nightmare, thankful that you're right there when he needs you

Astarion hates nightmares. He hates the way he’s all alone in them, running from something he can never escape. He’s always trapped, back against the wall, nowhere to go as his worst fears swallow him whole and then he wakes up with a start, gasping for air he no longer needs, eyes wild with panic.

He hates how pitiful he feels each time he wakes from a nightmare, wanting nothing but to curl up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest and cry. It makes him feel vulnerable, raw, naked, and nothing good has ever come from that.

He hates the way his skin crawls moments after he wakes, lingering ghostly imprints of the night causing bile to form in his throat and he shivers, wanting nothing more than to leave the tent but the fear that the creature of his nightmares may be waiting for him outside keeps him curled in his bedroll.

His clawed fingertips dig into the flesh of his arm, a quiet sob slipping past his lips. He feels weak, pathetic, and shrinks further into himself. He hates the trembling that follows suit, he can’t stop himself from shaking no matter how deep his claws sink in and tears continue flowing down his cheeks.

He hates how no matter how far he runs, Cazador is always there, taunting him, laughing at him, shattering his dreams. The vampire lord’s claws are always around his throat, squeezing all the air out of his undead lungs, the despicable choking feeling tearing his mind apart even though he doesn’t need to breathe anymore, the pain that explodes from where Cazador’s hands clench around his throat.

He hates hates hates hates —

“Star?” Your whisper slices through the haze, a light reaching out to him in the darkness. He whimpers in response, instinctively shifting in the direction of your voice and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close.

“I’m right here, my star,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair. He grips your clothes tightly, curling tighter into you as he buries his face into your chest, shoulders shaking with each sob. It breaks your heart to see him like this, curled into a fetal position, in pain and yet you can’t do anything to help.

You would do anything if it meant he would be free of all that haunts him.

Your free arm slips around his waist and you shift until your back faces the tent flap, blocking the sight of anyone who may happen past. He burrows deeper, pressing as much of himself against you as he can. You smell of warmth, safety, everything he needs right now.

“I’m right here.” You say again. You’ll say it over and over again until he fully understands and accepts what it means, no matter how long it takes. You continue threading your fingers through his hair, the rhythm soothing the vampire and his sobs begin to die down, his grip on you loosening slightly but he remains glued to you.

“Don’t leave.” His words are so soft that you barely catch them.

“Never,” you reply firmly. “Not for anything in the world, I promise.”

He keens, resting his head on your chest so that he can hear the steady pounding of your heart and suddenly he feels a little less alone in the chill of the night. It’s still cold, but at least he has your warmth to curl into when it gets too much. He can lean against you, knowing that you’ll be there to catch him should he fall.

You’ve given him so much in the short time you’ve been travelling together, more than he knows what to do with and he doesn’t know how to pay you back, or if he can even pay you back. Yet you never demand compensation for your efforts, never seeming to want anything from him, leaving him confused and lost.

Each time he wakes from his trance, he expects his side to be empty just like it usually is. He’s used to waking up all alone, picking himself from the messy sheets to clean up, feeling the coldness of the bed on the side he didn’t lie on, but ever since that night in the forest, the other side of the bed has never been cold. You’re always there when he closes his eyes and when he opens them back up again, sometimes curled into his side, sometimes wrapping him in your arms, but you’re always there, lying next to him.

It’s the only reason you know about his nightmares.

There are times when he tries to push you away, telling you to leave once you’ve done whatever it is you’ve come to his tent to do and you do leave, only to pop your head back in moments later with a lame and clearly made up on the spot excuse just so you can stay in his tent for the night. He tried forcing you to leave before but you stubbornly refused, so each time you throw him a new excuse, he simply sighs in resignation and lets you stay.

Tonight he’s glad he let you stay.

You gently rub his back, an area nobody had ever touched without causing him to feel sick until you, and he leans into the touch, yearning for something gentle. You can’t help but smile softly when he does so, noticing that he has finally calmed down and has stopped trembling.

He still buries himself in your arms, quietly pressing his forehead against your shoulder with his eyes closed as he takes a deep breath, letting it out with a shudder. His gaze flicks up, meeting yours for the first time since he woke up but quickly flicks back down again.

You don’t ask. You know he will tell you when he is ready and you’re more than happy to simply accompany him for what remains of the night. Still, you worry for him, this nightmare must have rattled him quite hard and you yearn to know the reason for his pain tonight but you hold yourself back. He comes first.

Astarion wordlessly tugs at your hand and you blink, confused but let him do what he wants. He slips his freezing hand into yours and you jump slightly, but quickly give him a reassuring smile when he looks at you with concern.

“Your hand is just a little cold.” You give him a gentle smile. He stares at you for a little while, as if discerning whether you are speaking the truth, before looking back down at your intertwined fingers, holding your clasped hands to his chest.

“Stay,” he pleads softly. You’re the only thing shielding him from the chill his nightmares leave behind, and he’s not sure he’ll survive the night if you leave.

“As you wish, my star.” His eyes light up at your words, a hint of gratitude in them as he curls up against you once more, still holding your intertwined hands to his chest.

“Thank you.” Those words barely scratch the surface of what he wants to tell you, but it’s all he can manage tonight, and that’s more than enough to you.

“Anytime.” With that, he drifts back into a trance to the steady rhythm of your beating heart, your warmth enveloping him. The nightmares still terrify him, but he takes comfort in knowing that should he wake up, screaming and sweating, you will be right there to pull him back to reality — the reality that he has you, always.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion

[pmpknsoup]

isat fake-posting but its just

🌌 melancholy-method-actor Follow

AITA for trapping myself in a prison of my own making?

I, (27, N-B) recently trapped myself and my family (25, M), (21, F) (45, F??) (10, N-B) in a seemingly endless timeloop brought on because i selfishly didnt want our time together to end. i had to die countless times to figure out what was trapping me in time, it sort of drove me insane, and i ended up seriously hurting my family's feelings. theyve all forgiven me, and all agree that while i was out of line, i was apparently "traumatized" and that it wasnt my fault that i lashed out at them.

i think theyre being too lenient with me, but i cant convince them!!

#aita #i mean im pretty sure i am #i just ... want an outside perspective #sorry for any bad grammar vaugardian isnt my first language

🎑 poterian-photography 🔁 from melancholy-method-actor

is it insensitive to say vaugardians are just. Like That?? LMAO

#sorry that happened op #i mean if this is real #im assuming it is because #after what happened to vaugarde #anythings possible

📝 daily-pierre-jauques-ernest 🔁 from poterian-photography

As someone who's half-Vaugardian, can confirm we're just Like That. I wouldn't be surprised if they managed to blame themselves, somehow

#not pierre #sorry for so many not pierre posts in a row but this unfreezing business is crazy and my dash is flooded #aita #nta #su speaks

🌫️ blacksmithingbaddie 🔁 from poterian-photography

Digging Vaugardians on what's clearly a vent post is crazy work actually!!!

#rb #tw self hatred talk #← (from ops post)

🖼️ the-meat-slicing-addict 🔁 from poterian-photography

yall isnt op one of the crabbing saviors

#WHY IS NO ONE COMMENTING ON THIS #I THINK THEYRE THE BLIND ONE

🌅 chronicallyfrozen 🔁 from the-meat-slicing-addict

"the blind one" ableism isnt cute...

#change its always tbmfiha series fans #get a personality your series sucks

🌌 melancholy-method-actor 🔁 from chronicallyfrozen

hwat

#i forgot abt this post #its been weeks can people stop reblogging this,

#siffrin in stars and time #in stars and time #fake posting #unreality #isat #in stars and time siffrin #in stars and time spoilers #isat spoilers #isat siffrin

[buckybabesonly]

as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)

Summary: You don't want to be a burden to Bucky, knowing he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!OC

Genre: Angst

Length: 7.8k

Two years ago

“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore.”

Bucky had expected it. Weeks of you being distant, making secret phone calls, avoiding his touches like they physically hurt you. Countless times Bucky had asked, what's wrong?, only for you to shut him down and say that everything was fine. Bucky was sick of hearing that empty, meaningless mantra, but it didn’t mean that he reveled in your confession now.

Even though it didn't come as a surprise, it still felt like a punch to the gut. It physically winded him to hear those words leave your lips.

He wondered what he did wrong. He wondered where they went wrong. They were so in love, so wonderfully content in each other's company. You were his person. Steve had once told Bucky that he would find someone unexpectedly, when Bucky made an off-hand comment about how lucky he was to have met Peggy.

“You’ll find your Peggy.”

Things had been perfect. Or maybe Bucky had just been in denial, ignoring all the problems between you because he thought that his feelings for you triumphed over everything, no matter what hardships you may have been suffering from. How could he ever face the reality that you might actually leave in pursuit of something better?

Now, Bucky’s chest was tight with an indescribable feeling, both of you stood in your shared apartment. Your belongings stuffed into a black suitcase, Bucky’s heart in pieces on the hardwood floor.

He had expected it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to die.

"Why?" It was all he could ask. He wanted to know the reason, wanted to understand. Wanted to know if he could fix it. He was desperate to make you stay.

Bucky stared at your face. You looked so...indifferent. Unattached, in contrast to the woman he had met all those years ago. Where had the softness in your eyes gone? Why couldn’t you meet his pleading gaze, even now? At what point did your feelings for him start to fade, and was there anything he could have done to salvage it?

Your face was a blank slate, emotionless, and it made Bucky feel a truly troubling combination of sadness and anger. It was as if you had already said your goodbyes to their relationship, completely ready to move on whilst Bucky was still trying to process your words. You were ready to leave him behind to mourn.

“I don’t think we’re right for each other,” you had said quietly. “I don’t think we can give each other what we need.”

"Bullshit," Bucky said, his voice cracking. You grimaced ever so slightly at his tone, still unable to meet his eyes. "How can you say that?"

He took a step forward; you matched it with a retreating step, but with wide strides he seized your wrists. He silently willed you to say something which could somehow lessen the excruciating pain.

“Will you just look at me?”

He wanted so badly for you to meet his stare, to find some source of comfort within your eyes which usually held so much love for him.

Finally, you relented and lifted your head. They did not fill Bucky with any hope. You pressed your lips together firmly as he searched your face desperately for any sign of residual affection.

"We - we're in love. How can you say after all these years that we're not right for each other? For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what happened?"

"People change, Bucky," you said softly. The look on your face - was it sadness, or apathy? "We've become too distant."

"And whose fault is that?" Bucky released you then. He was so angry, wanting to elicit some sort of reaction from you, that he wanted to punch the wall beside them. It made him feel nauseous at how stoic you were now, like a piece of unyielding rock. He knew you hated it when he took his anger out physically. You had been the one to teach him how to manage his rage more constructively, to talk things out and use his words rather than his fists.

"Are you trying to say it's mine?" Your tone was sharp, finally demonstrating some emotion. "Are you saying that all those nights waiting for you to come back home, all those evenings alone whilst you stayed at the Tower, all those hours I spent staring at the four walls of this apartment were my fault?"

"You left me!" Bucky retorted, gritting his teeth. "You left me long before today! You think I haven't noticed? You can barely stand touching me. You're always on your phone, always texting, always out seeing your 'friends'," he said, making air quotes. "I asked Wanda, she said you haven't been meeting her or your other friends for weeks. Who's this 'friend’? Who the fuck is it that's so important that you can't spare any time for me, never mind your actual friends?"

A long, pregnant pause filled the air, an indecipherable mask on your face once more. Bucky’s eyes were wet, and if he hadn't been so angry, he would've seen the way your lower lip was trembling ever so slightly, the way it did whenever you were trying not to cry. It had been the biggest telltale sign for him over the years to know when you were upset and trying your best to hide it.

He was usually so good at reading you, but he was blinded with sadness.

"Fine," you said eventually, slicing the silence with a shaky exhale. "I'm seeing someone else."

You might as well have struck Bucky across the face.

Suspecting it and hearing the words fall from your lips were two different things. He physically reeled back in anguish as he stared at you. He took in the sight of his girlfriend in front of him, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. This was, without a doubt, the woman he had met five years ago. The woman he spent five years loving. The woman whom he recognized no longer.

"Why?" Bucky whispered, all the fight leaving his body. He physically seemed to sag, forehead creasing at all the other questions running through his mind, visions of you being touched and fucked by some faceless, nameless man.

You were almost pitiful in the way you looked at Bucky, and he hated it.

"I care for you, Bucky. But I’m not in love with you anymore. And I'm sorry I had to do this to you. Things just got out of control."

I’m not in love with you anymore.

You offered no further information, but he had stopped listening, anyway. The finality in your voice pierced him slowly, tortuously, through the heart. He barely moved when you took your suitcase and pulled it out behind you, out of their apartment. Out of his life.

The door slammed shut.

Present day

You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mercedes Knight & Samuel Wilson

Sam had become Bucky’s closest confidant in the past few years, and the latter had been a close witness as Sam met Mercedes ‘Misty’ Knight, a former NYPD officer who had somehow become roped into their crazy world. It was no surprise to Bucky when they announced their engagement just six months into dating.

Bucky found himself being pulled into their wedding planning discussions far too often. He tried to keep an amused smile at bay whilst listening into Misty and Sam’s wedding talk at the Tower. They were using one of the many conference rooms - a Knight-Wilson union was official business, Misty insisted.

"Are you bringing a date?" Misty asked suddenly in the middle of everything, the question directed at Bucky.

"Of course he's bringing a date," Sam smirked. "Heard things with Sharon are going well, right?"

Bucky smiled non-committedly, shrugging. "She's great." It didn’t go unnoticed by Sam that this didn’t quite answer his question.

"You two look good together," Misty offered. She glanced at her watch and widened her eyes theatrically, grabbing Sam’s hand. "Oh crap, we need to go meet with the wedding planner."

"But it feels like we just sat down," Sam complained.

"There's no rest for the bride and groom, Sam," Misty said, pulling her fiancé out of his seat as she waved goodbye at Bucky.

As soon as they departed, the smile on Bucky’s face dimmed. He was beyond happy for his two friends, he really was - but every couple he knew was a fresh reminder of his own failed love life.

Ever since you, he hadn't been in a long term relationship. Sharon is different, he told himself, and she was. They had been friends for a long time, and of course spent a lot of time together carrying out missions and the like. Over time, somehow, they had gotten closer, and one day Sharon had just asked him, “So when are you going to ask me out, Barnes?”

At that point, Bucky was still frequently thinking about you. Sharon had never met you before, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard stories about you from the others, since he had been notoriously affected by the breakup. Even though he was dealing with the aftershocks of the broken relationship, he was forcing himself to get past it.

They had been dating for two months now, and it only seemed right for Sharon to be his date at the wedding.

He had moved on. He was no longer the depressed, dark wreck he was when you left.

Sometimes it’s better to lie to yourself than to face the reality.

“You invited Bucky’s ex to the wedding?” Misty asked curiously.

“Uh, yeah. She’s not just his ex,” Sam explained gently. “She’s my friend too, and I haven’t seen her since she left town.”

"You told Bucky?"

"Nope," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't. I don't think he'd turn up if I did. I want them both there on the day - I'm sure they can be civil for one night."

“I wonder how Bucky will react," his future wife pondered.

Sam shrugged. Not well, probably.

"What else can I do? I can’t not invite her, I really want her to be there. You never met her, so you don’t know, but she’s been through some shit.”

“I know, I know, you told me,” Misty said. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Do you think she'll be okay seeing Bucky again? Especially if he'll be there with Sharon?"

"She said she can handle it. She would be happy to see that Bucky was happy. She was the one who practically begged me to encourage him to move on."

“Do you think he has?”

Sam paused, considering the question carefully.

“He has to.”

Several weeks later, Misty Knight and Sam Wilson were officially wed at the local registration office. The day was full of hugs, cacophonous laughter, friends and family, and Bucky watched with a wide beam on his face as he witnessed his friends glow. Those kinds of smiles were few and far between nowadays, but he was truly happy for once.

"They look so good together," Sharon murmured as hundreds of guests filled the hotel ballroom, the party commencing in full swing. The newlyweds were in the center of the room, Misty being twirled around wildly by a laughing Sam before his wife collapsed against his chest in fits of giggles, looking up into his eyes adoringly.

More and more people joined them on the dance floor after the conclusion of their official first dance.

"Barnes, would you like to dance?" Sharon asked suddenly with a smile, extending a hand.

Bucky chuckled, allowing her to take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.

An hour passed, and Bucky had to truthfully say that he was enjoying himself, assisted by all the alcohol he had consumed. Sharon was draped all over him as they swayed to the music, and Bucky found himself appreciating the feel of her body against his all too much, the scent of her intoxicating. His hands felt the fabric of her silky, emerald green dress, buried his nose into Sharon's blonde hair, sighing softly as he tightened his grip on her waist.

Her perfume was strong and woodsy, like a forest. It irritated his nose ever so slightly. You had preferred a more subtle, floral perfume, one that smelt like sakura blossoms.

Sharon was more confident and seductive in the way she danced, whilst you used to always let yourself become putty in his arms, enjoying how he took the lead and managed to make you look like you knew how to dance despite your two left feet.

However, despite the differences, if Bucky closed his eyes and just tried a little harder, he think he could pretend that -

"Sorry to interrupt.”

Bucky pulled away from Sharon suddenly, and he turned to mock glare at Sam. "What do you want, Wilson?"

"Need to borrow you for a minute," Sam said, an undecipherable expression on his face. Bucky tried to see where Misty had disappeared off to, but saw no trace.

"Um, sure..." Bucky tried to read Sam’s face but gleaned nothing.

"I'll just go say hi to Natasha," Sharon said, giving Bucky’s forearm a squeeze before she disappeared.

Sam’s smile faded, and he caught Bucky’s arm in a vice grip. "I need to tell you something. Don't get mad, okay?"

"What?" Bucky scowled as Sam dragged him to the side of the room, weaving through the crowds of guests. "What good news starts with, ‘don’t get mad’? Are you gonna tell me you want to run out on Misty or something?" He joked.

Sam pulled him out through one of the open French doors which led to a pretty, outdoor stone balcony. He shut them behind him as Bucky continued to babble, a little tipsy from the champagne he'd had. "I gotta tell ya, if she asks me to kick your ass I will literally do so -”

"Bucky," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "She’s here." Meeting Bucky’s nonplussed eyes, your name rolled off Sam’s tongue in clarification.

He felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs as he stared back at Sam, who looked uncharacteristically anxious.

“What?" He asked hoarsely, instantly sobering up. “What do you mean?”

Chills were running through his body. The name he had avoided for years was suddenly causing him to feel breathless. How did you still have such an affect on him?

"She couldn't make it to the ceremony earlier today, but she just arrived."

"You - you invited her here? She’s here, now?"

"Yes," Sam replied, nodding. "I invited her.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly.

Bucky was speechless for a moment, taking a step back and scoffing. He shook his head. “Do you remember what she did to me?”

“I'm sorry, Buck..."

Bucky suddenly laughed, startling Sam. His laugh was curt, humorless. "What are you sorry for? I'm over her, Sam. It was two years ago. I haven't seen her in two years. I don't care anymore," he said quickly. Too quickly.

"Listen -"

"Look, it's okay." Bucky raised his hands in small surrender. “You have the right to invite whoever you want. I’m not mad. But I just don’t want to be held accountable for whatever happens now.”

He turned and wrenched the French doors open with such force that the handle buckled slightly. The noise inside the ballroom spilled out to replace the painful silence on the balcony.

He disappeared inside before Sam could say anything else, and he tried to hide it, but Sam could clearly see that his hands were shaking as he marched inside.

For the next twenty minutes, Bucky found sanctuary in the restrooms. He stood inside the stall, trying to stop himself from mentally collapsing.

He didn’t know what was happening. He had never felt this overwhelming panic rush over him before, immobilizing him. Anger, sadness and yearning swirling inside a melting pot of emotions that was crippling him.

She was here. The woman he hadn't seen in two years, the woman who broke his heart, the woman who betrayed him, the woman who left him in tatters.

Your infidelity had had an unforeseen impact on him. When he first found out, he was devastated. Terrified of how you became someone he didn’t recognize - or had you always been someone capable of betraying him, just good at hiding it?

You had poisoned all the happy memories they had once shared. Bucky found himself recounting all the years you were together, micro-analyzing everything, wondering if there was a hidden lie behind it all.

That was one of the things which made him angriest. You turned all the beautiful years of your relationship into a lie. None of it was real, Bucky had told himself.

You crushed him.

Of his feelings, anger prevailed, slowly simmering to the surface, like a volcano about to erupt. How dare you walk back into his life like this? He would show you, Bucky thought with determination. He was over you. He had no reason to be angry, he thought bitterly, because you were nothing to him.

Just like Bucky was nothing to you.

When he emerged from the toilets, the first thing he did was find Sharon. She looked relieved to see him, although confusion was clear on her face as she eyed Bucky.

"Where have you been? Are you feeling okay?" She commented, brow furrowed with concern.

"I'm fine," Bucky assured her. "Have you seen Sam?"

Sharon pointed, puzzlement still painted across her face, and Bucky snapped round quickly.

And there you were.

It was as if you had never left. As if the past two years filled with Bucky trying to eradicate every memory and feeling he had for you had never happened, because as soon as Bucky’s eyes found you through the crowd, everything came collapsing back down on top of him like an avalanche. Suffocating.

You were still so beautiful, strikingly so. Like a burning beacon among the crowd, Bucky’s eyes found your face as easily as anything. For a second, he allowed himself to ignore anything except you, and how the sight of you still managed to take his breath away.

You looked thinner than he remembered, your face gaunt. Bucky frowned slightly at this acute observation and found himself wondering if you had been taking care of yourself.

"Barnes? You okay?"

Bucky registered Sharon shaking his arm, but his eyes remained fastened on yourself and Sam. Neither of you had spotted Bucky yet, who was rooted to the spot like a statue. Sam’s mouth was moving, words that Bucky couldn't hear escaping his mouth, but his expression was angry. Almost as if he was scolding you for something.

"I have to...I..." Bucky stumbled over his words, voice faint. He could feel those tendrils of anger slowly seizing him again, wisps at first, until they grew more and more potent by the second. He remembered every single thing he felt when you left him, and instead of trying to hold back the emotions, Bucky just saw red.

"Let me introduce you to someone," he said suddenly, his voice strained as he took Sharon's hand.

"You said you were better," Sam said, expression torn.

"I am," you lied, trying to put on a smile. Truth was, you were exhausted, just like how you always felt. The ballroom was so crowded and loud, and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, which you would the moment you finished congratulating Sam and Misty. And perhaps, even though you didn't want to admit it, you wanted to catch a glimpse of Bucky, too.

"Look at you, you're -"

“Sam, please don’t,” you interrupted gently. “Just drop it, please? It’s your big day, I don’t want you to worry about anything else.”

Sam opened his mouth to talk, but stopped suddenly, his eyes flitting to look behind you.

"Hey."

You froze. You knew that voice, of course. Heard it enough times, the deep, gravelly voice that had once whispered sweet pet names, proclamations of love, and plagued your dreams ever since you left him.

You had longed to hear his voice again, hear your name being spoken lovingly. His voice was your favorite sound in the world. Except tonight, hearing it for the first time in two years, you heard nothing but ice.

"Bucky?" You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was just the way you remembered him. Even more handsome, if possible. Clad in a sleek black tux, tall and dark and sexy, everything you had missed and dreamed of, and...

He was holding another woman’s hand.

"Bucky," Sam repeated, voice tense. Bucky could hear the underlying warning.

"It's been a while," he said stiffly, acting as neutral as he could. As if he hadn't spent months after their terrible break up being a shell of who he used to be, barely repaired even now. Bucky felt like any other venomous words from your mouth would shatter him again, but he had to take the chance. He had to talk to you, show you that he had moved on. He didn't care about you anymore, or how you so ruthlessly left him.

"Yes," you said weakly, smiling softly. God, he still thought that you looked beautiful, clad in a periwinkle blue dress, a thick coat draped around your shoulders. You were shivering, and Bucky resisted the urge to ask you what was wrong. Now that he was closer, he could see that didn’t look well at all. You had dark circles under your eyes and your collarbones were too prominent, your gaze devoid of any livelihood.

You glanced at Bucky’s fingers interlaced with a gorgeous blonde. You had seen her on the news before, you were pretty certain. Your smile forcibly stretched wider, blinking a few times, not knowing what to do with yourself.

"This is Sharon," Sam said, clearing his throat and exchanging introductions.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sharon said politely. She was gorgeous, you thought, watching as she sent Bucky a subtle, questioning glance.

Bucky was still staring at you, unmoving. You took the initiative first.

“Bucky, can we talk for a second?"

You could see the way he was trying to control himself by the way his lips stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He gave a curt nod. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Sharon and the other hundreds of wedding guests.

“Let’s leave these two to catch up,” Sam said lightly, trying to hide his discomfort as he led Sharon away.

"So now you want to talk?" Bucky asked as soon as they were out of earshot, his voice sharp. You cringed, almost folding into yourself at Bucky’s hard stare.

"Yes," was all you managed to whisper, eyes darting to the ground to avoid meeting his glare. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

You turned and walked towards the exit of the ballroom, turning back to look at Bucky. He followed after a second, his jaw set like stone as you led the way to the empty lobby outside, away from the noise.

"It's been a while, Buck.” You voice was sad as you turned to face him again.

"Yes," he said, fighting an internal battle. He was so torn. Seeing you again made him want to wrap you up in his arms like he would've done two years ago, when you were still together. And feeling like that made Bucky angry. What right did you have to make him feel this way? Who gave you the right to mess with Bucky’s heart again after so long?

"How have you been?" You asked eventually after a painfully awkward silence.

He scoffed at that. "How have I been?" He repeated incredulously. He doubted you really wanted to hear about all those nights he spent in his apartment, refusing to talk to his friends, being a complete social introvert (more than he usually was) because he felt like he just couldn't live anymore. Not without you.

"Great. Fantastic," he said without a shred of sincerity.

You stared at him for the longest time, your lips pressed into a thin line. You looked so regretful that it made Bucky feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," you said eventually, your voice wavering like you were struggling to breathe properly. "I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. We...we could have ended things better. You didn't deserve how I treated you."

You flinched when Bucky scoffed derisively. He dropped any remaining restraints he had previously put in place, letting all his feelings run free.

"Are you kidding me? Why? Why are you coming back here and apologizing after all this time?" He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration as he stared at you, making sure to keep his distance lest he found himself wanting to pull you closer. God, it was all so confusing. He despised you, and yet seeing you here in the flesh was everything he had ever wanted in the last few years.

He hated how you were making him feel.

"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done," he spat through gritted teeth, all the while completely unaware of how your heart clenched painfully at Bucky’s scornful eyes. “Do you have any idea how unfair this is? You fucked up big time, disappeared off the face of the earth, then come back standing in front of me now asking how I am?”

“I know. You’re right, about everything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”

“No. You have no right to do this,” Bucky seethed. “You have no right to come back here and try to - what, settle your guilt? Make amends?”

You didn’t say anything, choosing to let him vent instead.

“I still remember the way you left. What you did. I will never forgive you for that. So don’t you dare stand in front of me today with all this bullshit and expect me to have something nice to say.”

"You really hate me, don't you?" You asked then, taking Bucky off guard. You lifted your head properly to stare at him, and the look in your eyes was unsettling.

"I hate you," Bucky confirmed unwaveringly, his voice hard. "I hate what you did to me and by extension, you."

You didn't respond. You bit your lower lip hard, trying desperately not to cry in front of him. Your heart hurt so much.

It was the worst feeling in the world, maybe, seeing the man you loved so dearly tell you that he hated you. It was excruciating, the clenching inside your chest as Bucky’s words rang in your head.

"I know my apologies will never be enough. I just wanted to see if you're happy now," you whispered.

"I'm happy," Bucky replied almost immediately. "I'm happy with Sharon. Does that bother you? Did you hope that I'd still be pining after you? I'm not that pathetic anymore." The barriers were broken, and the hurtful words were falling from Bucky’s mouth, two years worth of it.

“I never said you were pathetic,” you retorted, slightly indignant. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”

Bucky was breathing hard, unconvinced by your words.

“And how's the man you left me for?"

"He...it didn't work out," you shrugged, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.

"Good," Bucky said harshly. "Because you don't deserve happiness." If he wasn't so mad, he wouldn't say such irrational things. But he just wanted you to hurt. He wanted you to feel all the pain you caused.

Bucky pretended he didn't hear you gasp. He pretended that he didn't see your eyes gloss over at the sheer amount of hate in his voice.

"Okay," you said finally, your voice clearly shaking. "Okay," you repeated again, nodding your head. Bucky watched you take a step back, away from him.

“I -”

“I'm sorry, Bucky. Please take care," you interrupted, smiling sadly before you turned and walked away as quickly as possible.

That was not how you envisioned the reunion to go. All you wanted was to apologize, know that he was happy, so that you could go in peace.

But maybe that was the consequence of your decision. Maybe he was just always going to hate you for the rest of his life and remember you as someone awful.

You didn’t know that all Bucky wanted to do was run after you. Tell you to stop. He wanted to apologize and tell you how he didn’t mean a word of what he just said.

Rage and pride kept him shackled, and he watched your retreating back, feeling like a coward.

The last thing Bucky expected when he opened his apartment door a few days later was Sam’s dirty glare.

"You can be a mean son of a bitch, do you know that?”

"Hello to you too,” Bucky retorted.

“Why did you say all that stuff to her?” Sam asked, pushing his way past Bucky.

Bucky closed the door, knowing exactly who he was referring to.

"Why is this any of your business?"

"You acted like a dick!" Sam said furiously.

“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done something like that on your special day. But-”

“I want you to feel sorry to her.”

"She left me,” Bucky exclaimed. "You were there, Sam, you saw how fucked up she made me. She cheated on me! You want me to apologize to her?” His face was incredulous.

“You’re so fucking frustrating.”

“Oh, excuse me for not being the bigger person,” Bucky sneered. “But you don’t know how she made me feel, Sam, so don’t you dare try to give me a fucking lecture now.”

Sam was quiet for the longest time, looking exasperated. He stared up at the ceiling, sighing.

“Bucky, look man. She never cheated on you,” Sam said finally, an apologetic look in his eyes.

The apartment became filled with nothing but the sounds of Bucky’s heavy breathing.

“What are you talking about?” He spat, realizing now that Sam knew something he didn’t.

Sam let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. But fuck it, man, cause I think this is messed up. She’s sick, Bucky," he said solemnly. "Like, really sick."

Two years ago

"It's cancer, Sam."

You physically couldn't cry anymore. You had done enough of that the day the doctor had told you, your eyes puffy and swollen. Funnily enough, the first person you had sought out wasn’t your boyfriend, but rather his best friend.

Bucky wasn’t even in town that weekend, and you really didn’t want to tell him over the phone. In fact, you never wanted to tell him. How do you tell the man you love that you're dying?

"You can get treatment, right?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. It’s not looking good. They're doing some sort of new clinical trial in England, but even that’s a long shot. I - I’m going to try, though.”

Sam sat up straighter. “And Bucky?”

"You can't tell him," you said firmly. You had thought about it all night, and you knew you couldn't let him know. You didn't want to put him through something like this. "My father had cancer too, Sam," you said softly. "He died in so much pain, he had so much treatment but it didn't help. He was throwing up all the time, having fevers, his body was so weak, and by the end he wasn’t the same anymore. I don't want him to see me like that."

“But-”

“No buts,” you said. You had given it enough thought already. You knew that you would have to be very, very lucky to make it through this - the end was essentially inevitable. There was no way you would make Bucky bear witness to you succumbing to this illness the same way you had to watch your father.

It was the worst time of your life. You had told Bucky about it in the past, as he had never had a chance to meet your father since he passed away years before you met Bucky. Knowing what you did, you would never inflict that same experience on him.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I have to leave him.” You had been preparing yourself for what you needed to do all night. "If I go, there's a chance I might not come back, you understand that, right?"

"Don't say things like that," Sam said forcefully, clenching your hand. "Just stop. Bucky will support you all the way, you know that!"

"That’s exactly why I have to go by myself. I can't be selfish, Sam. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I can’t make him drop everything to make me his number one priority. Looking after me will take time and constant care. If I go to England, he will abandon everything and come. Manhattan is his home.”

Sam looked anguished and you knew that he was disagreeing with everything you had just said, but you plowed on.

"It’s not just a matter of time and effort. If he stays, he will watch me die, and I don’t want him to do that.” You began to cry, and Sam hugged you, wishing he could say something comforting.

“It’s okay," you said through the tears, even though every fiber in your body was telling you the opposite. You had been repeating these words to yourself all night, as if you would believe it if you said it enough times. "It’ll be okay."

Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn't care. You knew Bucky loved you with his body and soul, as did you. But you weren’t going to let him suffer over your illness. You wouldn't let the person you cared most about in the world see you slowly deteriorate.

You had been witness to how your father was clearly in a depressive state, and yet tried his hardest to pretend to be happy and fine around other people. You didn’t know if you had the strength or bravery to even pretend.

You began distancing yourself. Stopped trying to make conversation with Bucky, until the long, endless, random talks you used to share diminished into curt sentences. You stopped waiting for Bucky to come home, simply pretending that you didn't care. You became more secretive, furtively hiding your calls with your doctor and your mother.

There was no other man. You loved him and only him, and had been nothing but faithful. You didn't know what hurt more: having to lie to Bucky or the fact that he so easily believed you would betray him like that.

In the end, you had really regretted fabricating a story of infidelity. You should have just gone your separate ways without making him think that you had been unfaithful. But at that time, you wanted to find a quick solution that would make Bucky voluntarily detach himself from you. It seemed like a wise decision, but you really, really wish you hadn’t let him believe that you didn’t love him. It was truly the worst feeling in the world.

It was all over in a few weeks. You packed your things and left, trying not to cry with every heavy step you took towards the door of your apartment. You knew you were making the best decision for them both, surely.

Time would heal Bucky, and he would be happy again one day.

It just couldn’t be with you.

Present day

"She just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, man," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why did you have to say all those things to her at the wedding?"

Bucky could register nothing else after Sam finished explaining everything. He was in disbelief, though he knew that there was no way Sam would fabricate a story like that.

Now, he could only think of the way he had shouted at you. The way he told you how much he hated you. The way you had left.

"Where is she?" Bucky whispered.

"She’s leaving today," Sam said tersely. "She’s going back to England. She was real sick for a long time, and she recovered a few months ago, but the cancer came back.”

He slipped a hotel business card into Bucky’s hand. “This is the address she’s staying at," Sam said.

He grasped it like a lifeline, eyes unable to see Sam standing in front of him. His vision was completely filled with images of you.

"Go," Sam said forcefully. "Go and find her.”

The tears wouldn't stop falling.

You didn't know words could hurt so much. Sure, you had expected Bucky to hate you, but you weren’t prepared for the way every single word seemed to embed themselves into your skin like splinters into your heart.

They were once so happy. They were so perfect.

You hated yourself. Hated yourself for getting ill, for ruining what you had. The logic was irrational, but the self-hatred had become second nature.

You had spent the last few days holed up in your hotel. You had planned to use the time to see a few friends before returning to England, but you no longer had the heart.

You left your room that morning only because Wanda was furious that she missed you at the wedding, and you agreed to have coffee with her. She almost cried at the sight of you, but you put on a brave face, refusing to talk about Bucky. You begged her if you could just talk about happy topics and she eventually obliged, smiling sadly when you hugged each other goodbye.

“I’ll see you again, dear,” Wanda had said, and you hoped to God she was right.

As soon as you got inside your hotel room, you felt a switch click internally.

Everything hurt. You were tired, unhappy and you really didn’t know if you would ever make it out of this emotional blackhole. You felt so weak, like you would keel over at any given moment.

Cancer really was a bitch.

You kicked off your shoes and entered the bathroom. You lay down in the bathtub, fully clothed, turning the cold water on until you were almost completely submerged, wanting to numb all the pain inside your body and mind.

You eyes were red and swollen, and you couldn't remember crying so much since that day the doctor diagnosed you. Why was life so unfair? You wanted your old life back again. The life where Bucky didn't detest you, the one where he was happily and wonderfully in love with you.

You lay back, letting the water cover you completely. You closed your eyes, your hair gently swirling around your face. You opened your mouth and screamed, bubbles erupting to the surface.

Eventually you emerged, gasping and coughing, your tears hot in contrast to your frozen face. Your body wracked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably.

You sank back down into the water, your mouth opening once more to scream in uncontrollable rage. It was cathartic, your fists clenched into balls as you willed the feelings inside you to just - disappear.

When you opened your eyes beneath the water, you nearly gasped at the sight of a blurry, warped figure above you. You didn't have time to do anything when arms were suddenly encasing themselves around you, lifting you to the surface.

You spluttered and coughed, your ears assaulted by the voice that once whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"- the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?"

Bucky.

You blinked past the water in your eyes, bewildered at the sight of him, kneeling beside the bathtub with his hands gripping your shoulders. His bright blue eyes were scared, wide open with concern.

You were startled at his sudden appearance, unable to say anything as he scooped you out, lifting you with ease. You were clearly in shock and scared.

You collapsed against him as he sat down on the bathroom floor with you in his arms.

"What were you doing?” Bucky was appalled as he pulled you close to him, watching how you continued to weep, blinking blearily at him. Your body was ice cold, every inch of you soaked.

He whipped a towel down from the railing beside you, wrapping it around your body as you shivered uncontrollably.

"Bu - Bucky?" You asked, as if you couldn't fathom why he was here. You were almost convinced you were hallucinating.

"Fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes," Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. He had so much to say to you. He wanted you to know how sorry he was, how he didn't mean anything he said, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be strong for you.

You felt like a baby as Bucky removed your soaking wet garments until you were naked, then immediately swaddled you with more towels. He picked you up completely off the floor and took you out of the bathroom.

He chose to place you down on the edge of the bed, positioning himself to kneel down in front of you.

"Bucky," you whispered, voice thick, trying to pull away from him. “I think you should just leave me alone."

He stiffened. It scared him to hear you talk like this, to see you look at Bucky with such defeat in your eyes.

“No,” he said resolutely. “I'm here now, okay? I'm here, I'm not leaving, and I need you to be with me. I need you here, talking to me.”

"I can't. I can't do this anymore. Just go, please."

Bucky looked at you then. Really looked at you. The woman he loved and misunderstood for so long was now a trembling wreck in front of him, skin paper thin and trembling like a leaf. You looked so vulnerable and sad, and it made his heart twist.

Bucky suddenly held you tight against his chest, tucking his nose against the crook of your neck, and you didn't resist.

"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself? I hate myself for letting you go through this alone. I hate myself for telling you all those lies that night. I love you, I love you, I love you," Bucky said, wishing that you would see it.

“Don’t.”

“I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You should have told me. I can’t believe you -”

You realized now that Sam must've told him the truth, and you sighed softly.

"I'm not good for you, Bucky," you whispered. "I will only ever hurt you, put you through more pain."

"I know everything now," Bucky said firmly. "No matter what happens, I will gladly endure it as long as it means we're no longer apart."

“Don’t be so stupid,” you said, anger tearing through your voice, though the tears were still falling. “I’m broken, Buck. I can’t give you a future. Please just find someone else - stay with Sharon.”

“Sharon?” If you hadn’t mentioned her name, Bucky would never have even thought about her. “No - we’re not serious, doll. She was never going to be the one.”

“No,” you insisted. “If not her, then fine, find someone else. Just not me.”

“Why aren’t you listening?” Bucky asked furiously. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please don’t do this. I need you." He was desperate to make you see, to make you understand. It was you or nothing. "You don’t know how awful the past few years have been. I don’t want to be apart from you, please.” He was prepared to grovel at your feet and beg.

He hated himself for how easily he gave up two years ago. This time, he was not letting you leave him.

His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with you, and you felt your barricades crumble. Your arms finally moved to wrap around him, and he felt a wave of relief as he encircled you in his arms. You had missed this, the feeling of Bucky holding you so tenderly.

You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you wanted to give in so badly and just let yourself be selfish and enjoy what time you could have together. And now that Bucky had you back by his side, he was definitely not going to let you go.

Even if they were in pieces, at least they were together. And Bucky was positive that they could put those pieces back into a whole, as long as you gave it a chance.

"You're so stupid," you said through your tears.

"I don't think so," Bucky said, managing the smallest smile. "Just stupidly in love with you."

You wanted to stay like this forever, entangled in each others arms. He pulled back slowly to study your face, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, breathing you in.

“You owe me two years of kisses,” he mumbled.

You laughed softly, but it soon died. First, you had a lot of talking to do. You used the following hour to tell him the details about your illness, why you had left, how sorry you were for treating Bucky the way you did when you broke up with him.

"You're so dumb," Bucky had said, sounding furious for a moment. "You had no right to decide something like that for me. You know I would support you.”

"I know, Buck," you had interrupted. "That's exactly why I had to leave. I didn't want you to see me die, okay?"

You had looked like you were about to cry again, so Bucky stopped scolding you immediately. He would never make you cry again, he swore.

"You're here now," he said, kissing your temple. "We're together now. Everything feels...right again."

You swallowed, biting your lip. "I told you, my cancer is back and -"

"You'll get better again," he said, refusing to look at you. You knew that tears were in his eyes. "You'll get better, okay?" His voice wavered slightly.

"It's worse this time, Bucky," you said. "Look at me. I'm practically withering away."

"You'll get better," he said, clenching his teeth.

You didn't say anything, just nestled against Bucky’s chest, relishing the way he wrapped his arms securely around your frame as if you would disappear at any moment.

Maybe he was right. Maybe by some miracle, with Bucky by your side, you would be able to give him all the time in the world.

"I'll try to stick around," you whispered.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky angst #sebastian stan #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x you #bucky

[indulgentdaydream]

protective!jason hcs or blurb 🥰

Ok so I kinda touched on these in my latest fic but anyways i WILL elaborate bc those were just background

We all know that man is touch starved. We ALL know it.

We also all know he’s hesitant with sharing touch

It’s only once you both have been dating for a bit already, maybe three months in, that he really starts to show his protectiveness through his touch

Or at least when you notice it

He’s always at least holding your hand as you guys walk around Gotham. Depending on exactly whereabouts in Gotham is when he changes whether he’s between you and the road, or you and the alleyways.

You watched him change it up one time halfway through your shared walk, him letting go of your left hand, stepping behind you and around to grab your right instead.

“Oh? So you want me to get hit by a car and die?”

Jason only keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and the ones coming up, “The chance of that is much lower than somebody trying to mug you in this area, love.”

One day you’re both out at the bar together. He’s sitting on a stool behind you as you babble to oke of yours friends.

From over their shoulder, you see a man approaching, but don’t think anything of it.

Suddenly, you see the man stop in his tracks, freezing. You glance over at him. He looks terrified. He glances at you, his original target, then behind you again. He spins on his heel and walks back the way he came.

You look behind you, feeling Jason’s hand still resting on your hip. You almost feel a little scared yourself, seeing that killer glare that Jason’s pointing at the guy’s back.

He switches immediately the second he looks down to you, a soft smile and kind eyes, not a hint of the previous bloodlust a mere second ago. “What?” He asks, like watching his expression change wasn’t the biggest turn on in the world.

You’re sitting in your apartment at your desk typing away on your laptop. You’re trying to file your taxes, and Jason had come over to help you with it (surprisingly he knows how even though he’s still legally dead at this point and hasn’t had to pay any taxes. Ever.)

He had stood and was wondering around your room a bit while he waited for you to fill the next part out. You can hear shuffling, but you’re too focused to tune into it.

“Jay? What does this line mean?”

Jason grunts for a moment and you hear your window slide open.

You turn back around, “Jay?”

“One second.” He shuts your window again. You watch as he fiddles with the lock before easily sliding the window back open. He throws his hands in the air and looks at you. “How long have you lived here?”

You shrug, confused, “You helped me move in.”

Jason waves his hand through the air, “When?”

“Almost a year? Last November.”

Jason fiddles with the window again, slamming it back down, “This lock doesn’t work. You been sleeping in here and anyone could’ve just broken in?”

You shrug again, “I didn’t know it was broken! I don’t really lock my window often.”

Jason looks like he almost broke his neck by how fast his head whipped back to you, “You don’t lock your window????”

He finishes your taxes for you before he leaves, saying he’ll be back. Within the hour he’s knocking on your door again, a duffle bag in hand full of power tools, screws, and different assortments of heavy duty locks. He spends the rest of the night installing them.

A new one on your bedroom window that actually consisted of two different locks. A similar two on your kitchen window. Another three on your bedroom door itself. Then four on your front door.

As he leaned over your kitchen sink, screwing in the lock and blocking your way as you tried to make you both dinner.

“Is this really necessary?”

“I’m not having you practically open to every bad thing the city has to offer, love.”

“Then how are you going to come in through my window now?”

“I’ll learn to knock.”

That’s all I can think of right now okay byeee

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc #red hood #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #ask missy #missy writes #red hood x m!reader #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x male!reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x male reader #red hood fic #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd headcanons #jason todd x civillian!reader #jason todd x male!reader #jason todd x m!reader #jason todd x y/n

[cherryredstars]

Cherry pls pls pls can we have another breeding experiment Miguel 🥹 but like, sweet? Like after the experiment succeeds and Miguel realizes that all the other stuff was the easy part and now he’s fucking terrified because what if the experiment doesn’t work, and what if his partner gets hurt in the process, or what if they go through nine months of this just for the baby to disappear because it isn’t supposed to exist??? some fluff and some angst 🥹🩷

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst(??), Comfort, Pregnancy

Unedited

Part 1 Part 2

He’s… conflicted.

Happy, ecstatic, but conflicted. Of course, this is what he wanted. He can feel the happiness bubbling in his gut, his mind already picturing the perfect future ahead of him. But underneath it is this sizzling nervousness. A wave of unease that washes over everything else.

It must be washing over you, too.

His heart hurts as you blink up at him, your bottom lip beginning to tremble as you take in whatever look is on his face. Your hands are shaking as they tighten around the plastic test, covering the results. Your eyes are getting shiny, and you blink rapidly before looking away.

“Sorry.”

The word is spoken so softly, wet and meek. Miguel wants to rip his heart out when your hand slaps over your mouth, poorly concealing a hiccup. He hates himself.

“No, no, shhh,” Miguel panics, his hands reaching out and pulling you into his chest. “Why you crying, mami?”

You only sniffle into his shirt, and Miguel tries to soothe you by playing with your hair. He coos soft things into your ears, not stopping until your cries die down. When they do, he pulls back a little, eyes softening at your puffy eyes. He gives you a tiny smile, his hand coming to your cheek to wipe remaining tears from your eyes. You sniffle again when he leans down, his lips ghosting over your other cheek to kiss away the tears. Your lips are pouted still when he pulls away, pushing hair away from your forehead.

“Are you mad?” You whisper up at him, hesitant in your words.

Miguel’s brows furrow, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Why would I be mad, mami?” Miguel asks back, “I knew what I was doing when I was with you.”

Your lashes stick together slightly when you blink, shrugging your shoulders and wiping at your nose.

“I don’t know… maybe you changed your mind or something.”

Miguel chuckles at the bizarre notion. How could he regret anything- regret this- with you? It feels like a fucking dream. He’s already vowing to protect his baby with his life, his baby and his baby’s mama. He reaches his hand down to your hand, slowly prying the pregnancy test out of your grasp.

The plastic is warm, and Miguel turns it over. His eyes dart to the small window, the digital word smiling back at him. His thumb brushes over it, as if confirming that it’s real. He can’t help the small smile spreading on his face as he looks back at you.

Your teeth are biting into your bottom lip, a nervous look in your eyes. Miguel reaches up again, his hand grabbing at your chin and freeing your lip. You’re left dazed when he presses a soft kiss to your mouth, momentarily erasing your anxieties. You blink up at him when he pulls away, Miguel’s eyes dropping to your still flat stomach. He can already picture it growing, and excitement bubbles in his chest for the moment you start to show.

“Do you know how long?” He asks, his eyes sparkling.

“I- a few weeks, maybe nearing a month?” You stumble over your words, not quite expecting the question or the reaction. Miguel nods, his eyes slightly shaking as he does the math in his head.

“Are you… do you want to keep it? The baby?”

Miguel is pulled away from his calculations, eyes focusing on you. What a stupid question.

“Of course, yes.”

It’s like a weight is dragged off your shoulders. You instantly relax, nodding your head as a smile starts to spread on your face. Tears are streaming down your face again, but now it’s from happiness. You let out a watery laugh, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, securing you against his body. He closes his eyes, taking in the moment.

He still has those worries, those unimaginable thoughts running through his head, but he pushes them away. Right now, he has you and the baby. That’s all that matters. That’s the only thing that matters.

And he’ll protect the both of you with his life.

#cherry's requests🍒 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel o hara #miguel x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o hara x y/n

[stillness-in-green]

Not-Really Chapter Thoughts BNHA 424

You know, I really think there should be a point at which Deku rushing in with no plan and doing whatever he thinks feels right should become Heroic Malpractice.

Just me?

Because, like, Shouto had a plan. He spent the time between the two war arcs specifically developing a brand-new combat technique that he planned to use to shut down Dabi's combat advantage without killing him. He convinced his dad not to change the plan like Endeavor was hesitantly sounding him out about[1]; he went out and talked and asked questions, and even if they weren't the right words every single time, he did his best and he did it with intention. If Dabi proves to be dead, it won't be because of anything Shouto did to him; it'll be because Dabi himself chose to stand back up, take a warp gate across the country, pick a fight with the guy who doesn't have the power set to shut him down without unduly hurting him, and try to replicate an Ultimate Move specifically tailored for someone with a balanced power set Dabi doesn't have.[2]

And if Dabi lives, it's still going to be because Shouto booked it across the country and used that same technique to stop him again.

1: Dabi surely would have preferred to fight Endeavor from the start, and it probably would have been the more "just" choice if it had to be one or the other, but Shouto is the nominal focal character between the three of them, so, critiques of the broader Hero-side decisions aside, Shouto's arc has to come first. This is one of those places where you can clearly see how much the decision to let Endeavor survive where Horikoshi originally planned for him to die hurts the shape of the later story.

2: Obviously ultimately if Dabi dies, it's going to be because his family and Team Hero made repeated choices to ignore and neglect him, culminating in the entire family swearing to deal with Touya together only to passively accept a battle plan that involved splitting them all and letting the kid who knows Touya the least be the one to fight him. But like, in the context of that fight, Shouto isn't the reason Dabi takes all that hurt.

Uraraka may or may not have had much of a plan, but at least the words she said to Toga reflected that she had been seriously thinking about Toga in the here and now, what Toga's told her, what Toga needs. If Toga dies, it will be because Toga chose to give Uraraka an unsupervised blood transfusion with no intention of stopping it. (With the same general caveats as in Footnote 2.)

But Deku? From the very beginning, Deku has been valorized by the manga for how much he doesn't plan. All Might tells him specifically that it's a sign of greatness shown by future "top Heroes" that, in some crisis situation, their bodies moved before they could think. Bakugou's Rising chapter is defined by him reaching that same state.

Deku claimed he wanted to save Shigaraki; he's sad in the latest chapter that he couldn't save Tenko's[3] life. But did he ever have a real plan to do that? With all the quirks he had at his disposal - both his own and those who would be in the flying coffin with him, or classmates whose presence he could specifically request - did he think hard and come up with a technique that would let him stop Shigaraki without harming him? Did he try to connect with the Shigaraki right in front of him by citing to the future?

3: And I have nothing but scorn for Deku's insistence on that name when "Tenko" goes out very pointedly calling himself Shigaraki Tomura.

Well, no. Deku obstinately yelled at the phantasms in Shigaraki's mindscape that he had no plan whatsoever. The only plans we saw him carry out were ones handed to him by the OFA collective that involved "breaking" Shigaraki's psyche; the only plans he came up with himself involved more efficiently breaking Shigaraki's body.

Way back in Chapter 130, Nighteye harshly scolded Deku by saying that his way of thinking was arrogant. He said, "Go after him haphazardly and he'll slip through our fingers. You're not so special as to be able to save who you want, when you want. (...) This world is not so accommodating that you can act the Hero because you feel like it."

It felt like something that Deku should have taken to heart, a lesson to be learned and applied later, but I never much got the feeling that he did. Nothing he did in that moment, in that arc, or anywhere else in the series afterward indicates that he thought Nighteye was right. He just chose not to talk back, and the arc ended with Nighteye dead and no longer around to pose objections to Deku's mode of heroism.

But Nighteye was right. Three hundred chapters later, Shigaraki is dead because Deku could not be arsed to plan for how he could stop Shigaraki without killing him. Because he let Gran Fucking Torino give him the intellectual out that killing someone could be a means of saving them. Because he followed his gut instincts of prioritizing the phantom Crying Child that he always saw as more valid and real than the human being standing in front of him.

Because he haphazardly acted the Hero and let his body move without thinking.

And he wants to act sad about it now? I hope Nighteye materializes in his bedroom to sneer at him every night for the rest of his life.

--

Incidentally, fuck All Might, seriously. "Wow, Deku and Bakugou, you two are the greatest Heroes ever. Fuck me and everyone else who fought tooth and nail, arm and leg, eye and earjack, life and death, to contribute to the pile of damage that was necessary to kill and/or save Shigaraki and All For One. You two got the last blows in, so you're the only ones who get the credit for it in my eyes. Hero Society is definitely going to be different and better with you two around."

#bnha #bnha critical #bnha spoilers #bnha 424 #stillness has salt #class talk #no. 2 green #this just in: #class 1-a will no longer ALL be the greatest heroes ever #they thought too much about how to deal with the challenges facing them #and encouraged that thought in others #which is obviously the opposite of their bodies moving without thinking #and since moving without thinking is what signifies top heroes they are OBVIOUSLY not top hero material #christ almighty i hate this endgame

[oneluckydumbass]

You couldn't hold back the tears anymore. The stress of the last hours, the uncertainty, the panic that was clearly visible on the others’ faces were more than enough to push you over the edge. As you sat on the floor with your back against the wall, you rested your forehead on your pulled up knees and struggled to stop crying. You should pull yourself together, you shouldn't show such weakness.

But then you felt a gloved hand on your bare shoulder, reminding you that you weren't alone in this. Ghost was there when those canisters released an unknown substance in the room, which is why the two of you were now quarantined together.

“They'll figure it out,” he said in his deep voice, although you could tell his tone was laced with hopelessness.

You couldn't blame him, you were also feeling hopeless. How could you not? They didn't know what that was, and the symptoms would surely get worse with time. The headache and the nausea was already on the threshold of being unbearable, you couldn't even begin to imagine what else was about to come.

Apparently there was something wrong with the blood sample you both gave. You weren't a doctor, you had no idea what the issue was, but they sounded serious. You didn't want to die. Your job was risky, sure, but dying from a bullet still seemed like the better option.

Before you knew it, Simon sat next to you then put an arm around your shoulder so he could force you to rest with your head on his shoulder. Through the mask, he pressed a soft kiss on your head, causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

“What? There's a chance we'll die here, I'm not gonna spend it as if we were just simple teammates,” he informed you.

The thought of him being so openly affectionate warmed your heart. Simon Riley, the man who always made sure to keep his softer side behind closed doors when he was alone with you, was now ready to let the entire team know you were together as a couple. Happy and in love, although you didn't think you would go into details about how you were already talking about starting a little family of your own.

The only sound came from the buzzing neon lights on the ceiling, filling the heavy silence that was making you more and more depressed as the minutes passed. A doctor came in to check your vitals, noted that Simon had fever, then left without saying anything about what they knew so far.

“I love you, Simon,” you quietly noted as you reached out to take his hand that was resting on his thigh.

With a short laugh he pulled up the mask a little and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, savoring the moment, turning it into a core memory. Because this was an important moment for the both of you, a slow and emotional goodbye in case you didn't make it.

“If we get out of here,” he began cautiously as you lay down with your head resting on his legs, “would you marry me? And I mean it, I don't want a long engagement or a big wedding, I just want to make it official as soon as possible.”

“Just the two of us?”

“Just the two of us.”

You pulled off the glove from his hand and placed a soft kiss on it. His big, calloused hand gave you the comfort you needed now, long fingers lacing with yours in an attempt to calm you down. It would have been a nice moment under different circumstances.

Suddenly Soap walked in, wearing a hazmat suit, but even that wasn't enough to hide the wide grin on his face. “Okay, so we left cameras here to know if you're okay, which is how we heard everything. We agreed that you're idiots because one, we knew about the two of you all along, and two, there's no way you can run away like that to get married.”

Shaking his head, Simon leaned back against the wall as he looked up at the sergeant. “What's the point if we die here anyway?” he asked with a sigh.

To your surprise, Soap took off the helmet with a laugh. “I forgot to mention; the doc gave you the green light. You won't die. It's… I don't know, I was too busy celebrating that you'll live to listen to what he said. Come on, Lt., time to go home.”

#ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #mw2 #modern warfare #mw3

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi, wondering if you could do some dadstarion headcanons for a half-elf child, since I see quite a few for astarion with an elven child. I was wondering how he would deal with a half-elf child as they are known having the free-spirted and chaotic energy whilst having a sense of wanderlust, I picture astarion trying to stop them from running off at times, or not.

Oh, doing a half-elven kid would be fun! In case you want to read about an elven kid, I am currently writing a series about Astarion's elf daughter Alethaine

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion's half-elf child

You are a human and you can't wait for decades till Astarion is ready to settle down.

You have ten years, fifteen, maybe twenty, but not a year more of active life ahead.

Astarion understands that, too, but what he also understands he can't settle down now.

You break up ten years into the relationship and your ways part.

As an innkeeper, you gather all kinds of strange folk under your roof but you can't find anyone who you want to share a bed with.

Not until...

Someone familiar shows up.

You barely recognize Astarion, thinking, it's just another Moon Elf. They all look the same especially when they have long hair.

"Hello, darling."

You stare at him in disbelief.

He isn't a vampire anymore.

Green eyes, long silver hair. Mortal.

He tells you all sorts of things that happened to him. He found his family and his home, and he was saved from the curse and resurrected.

And then he spent years searching for you.

He will overlive you anyway. You have a few decades but he will keep living his long elven life after your death but somehow it feels less terrible now when he can walk in the sun.

You soon get pregnant - bless or curse be the human fertility.

The half-elf baby stuck between two worlds, is born almost without pain as she is just way smaller than a human would be.

The tavern and its yard soon became her playground. She is curious like a human and has an innate wanderlust as an elf. Sometimes she just goes missing only to be found in the next village.

Astarion's elven family loves her but there is always sadness about her.

She will die.

Astarion will see her death even if she lives till the ripe old age. If she has kids of her own with another human, they will all wither and die in front of their elven eyes.

Astarion tries not to think about it. He has never learned to think about the future.

The girl becomes a professional adventurer and leaves her human village. Astarion stays with you till your days end and buries you, feeling sorry only about those ten years he was away.

Then he leaves and returns to Evereska to his elven family.

Your daughter wanders the world - always ending up at her father's, ready to tell new stories and share new experiences.

Astarion notices the indication of her own aging and knows his daughter's time is also coming sooner or later.

But he tries not to think about it.

-- Tag list

@tugoslovenka  

@herstxrgirl 

@herdarkestnightelegance  

@vixstarria 

@not-so-lost-after-all  

@marcynomercy  

@theearthsfinalconfession 

@starlight-ipomoea    

@micropoe10 

@astarion-imagine-archive  

@veillsar

@elora-the-slutty-songstress  

@fayeriess  

@lumienyx  

@tallymonster    

@caitlincat-95  

@tragedybunny  

@valeprati  

@lynnlovesthestars   

@marina-and-the-memes  

@waking-eyes   

@ayselluna  

@connorsui  

@asterordinary  

@darkarchangel96  

@locallegume  

@brainfullofhotsauce   

@coffeeanddonutscafe  

@my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen 

@queenofthespacesquids  

@ednaaa-04  

@dajeong

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

#spacebarbarian headcanon #dadstarion #bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #astarion being a dad #half elf tav #half elven #human tav #mortal astarion #astarion x you #astarion x reader #tav x astarion #astarion x f!tav

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Crazy in Love | Han Jisung

Saw a post awhile back saying that they wanted to see a Jisung/Joker smut. I wrote this months ago but wasn't sure how I felt about it so it's just been sitting in my drafts. I wouldn't really say there's a plot with this one.

Synopsis: You're bored and wanna play. Who cares if J.One is in a meeting for world domination? It's never stopped you before. He'll ruin your makeup and end lives just fine.

Pairings: Crime boss Jisung x Female Reader

Content Includes: smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, Dom Jisung...sort of?, slight degradation and name calling, brief mention of violence and guns, hair pulling, I'm sure I forgot something lol

Want more smut? Follow the 🍌

“Mista J!” you sing-song, skipping into the room wearing nothing but a red and black lace bra and leather shorts too short to be considered anything but underwear.

Jisung sits surrounded by his worthless minions at the head of the table. They all pretend you don't exist, of course. Not one eye looks in your direction; if they did… well, their brains would decorate these four walls. Like the king he is, Jisung sits on a throne of premium leather that you were handed when you walked into the store. Really, the fancy schmancy furniture store just gave you whatever you pointed at. Okay, fine, maybe it had something to do with the two double-barrel sawed-off shotguns you held, but that's beside the point.

There's nothing too good for your Jisungie. There's not a thing you wouldn't do for this man. You would die for him, you would kill for him, raise hell with him, making the city cower as king and queen. You love every moment of it. Straddling and looking pretty on Jisung's lap, you kiss him. It’s sweet on your end, but he takes it a step further, making it hot and messy, drawing porn-worthy moans from you.

"Mmm, Mista J.One… If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to fuck me on this table right in front of everyone," you tease, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He responds with a wicked, deadly grin that sends a rush of heat to your core.

"Lovely, I had to kill at least a dozen men after the last time. I can't risk that happening now, can I, pet?" he says, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes flick up to the center of the room where his men sit, the intensity of his gaze daring any of them to look in your direction.

The way he glares, daring anyone to even glance at you, thrills you to your core. The reckless and dangerous aura he exudes turns you on, knowing he's willing to burn the entire world down for you, taking down anyone who dares to look at you. You pout and wiggle your hips, a soft whine escaping your lips as you feel him, hard and ready, pressing against you.

“Let me play, baby,” you whisper, leaning into him and licking the heart-shaped spider web tattoo on his neck.

He groans and shivers, bucking his hips up, making you squeal with delight and lust as his zipper brushes against your cunt. The damned leather is getting in the way of feeling more than you want, but that's okay; your mind is set on something bigger and better. You wriggle again, and he growls, the sound reverberating deep within you. Any other person would be scared, but you eat it up, craving more.

“What are you waiting for, lovely? Get on your knees for me,” he demands, his voice soft and dark, like feathers on a raven.

You almost fly up from his lap with excitement, hurrying to kneel between his thighs, looking up at him through your long lashes. The thing about this throne that caught your eye was the little footrest it came with. It's your favorite spot. Some days you sit there just waiting for him to use you any way he pleases. Your excited, maniacal giggles echo throughout the room as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you swing the garment around your head like a lasso, letting it fly free. You have no clue where it lands, but from the sounds of it, it seems to have landed on some poor guy's head.

Jisung smirks and cocks his head to the side, slowly looking in the direction of the unfortunate soul. "Oopsie," you whisper, reaching out to unwrap the present in front of you.

When Ji is satisfied that the man won't move, he looks down at you with his cock in your hands. You marvel at the size, as always, appreciating him, worshiping every inch of him. With loose fingers, you guide your hand up the length of his cock, feeling the heat radiate from the impressive muscle. Your mouth waters in anticipation and you smile up at him.

"Oh, Mista J, you're so hard for y/n." you purr, your mouth getting closer to the head of Jisung's cock.

The leather squeaks when he grips the arm of the chair, letting you take the lead... for now. You are his queen, after all—his beautiful nightmare. Damn it, if he didn’t have to go through with this fucking meeting, you would be bent over the table, drooling while he pounded his cock into every one of your fucking holes. Jisung is pissed, but only a little. These fuckers in the room better not dare look at you while his trigger finger is itchy.

With a wave of his hand, the meeting resumes, and you can hear the men shift uncomfortably, speaking about whatever plan for world domination Jisung's genius mind concocted. You ignore it all, too focused on watching the precum increase the more you play with Ji’s cock. So much more fun than any video game you were playing moments ago. You need him to make a mess of your makeup.

Every touch, every stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through both of you. Jisung’s eyes, dark and intense, flicker with a blend of rage and lust as he watches you. He’s a volcano on the verge of eruption, held back by the thinnest thread of control. Your breath shakes as you feel the weight of his cock in your hand, the slickness of his precum making each movement smoother, more urgent.

He exhales sharply, a barely audible groan escaping his lips. The power you hold over him in this moment is exhilarating, each pump of your hand drawing a reaction from him.

"Such a pretty cock you have, Ji," you whisper, blowing cool air over him. You watch with delight as he makes it bounce for you, the sight eliciting a soft, approving hum from your lips.

More crazed laughter from you rings out through the room, and Jisung loves it. He revels in the way you make the men in the room flinch. They're just dying to look at you, their fear mingling with desire.

"All the better to fuck your pretty mouth with, y/n, and that pretty cunt of yours," he replies, putting a crude emphasis on the word "cunt" and laughing loudly.

His laughter is just as insane as yours, but far more psychotic and unhinged. That's because he is certifiably insane. You would know; you're the one who diagnosed him. His psychosis, however, makes you feel safe. It's almost as if it connects you two in a way that psychology cannot explain. The two of you put on a show for the men in the room, mentally synchronized and wondering who will be the first to break. Knowing that cold steel is right underneath the chair, Jisung will make quick work of eliminating the weakest one.

When you flick your tongue out to lap up the liquid that now coats the tip of his cock, he shudders and leans his head back, licking his lips. The voices around the room waver, but they continue as if you aren't here. Good boys. Now it's time for Jisung to be a good boy for you and lose his mind. You gasp in delight and lick your lips, humming.

“Mmm, so tasty. Whaddya say, J One? Can I be greedy tonight?” Batting your lashes up at him, you grin.

His hand grabs the back of your neck tightly, but not uncomfortably, and he leans down, getting closer to your ear.

“Take it all and leave no drop behind, and you'll get a reward for being so good.” He slams his mouth onto yours in a crushing kiss, both physically and spiritually.

He leans back, fingers massaging your scalp, petting you while watching whatever presentation his men are rambling about. Your tongue gets to work, starting at the base, trailing up and over every ridge and vein along his cock. You lick every surface, coating him and savoring how his hands begin to become less caressing and more rough. The sound of voices fades into the background. All your focus is on Jisung and his cock now.

Heavy and warm against your tongue, you take him deeper and deeper, further than you've ever allowed yourself to go. He lets out a slow, deep groan and fists your hair when the head of his cock presses against the back of your throat, and you keep going. It's hard to focus on your breathing, to keep it steady and even, when he's making those sounds. You've never heard him sound as desperate as he does now. He doesn't care who hears him or sees him vulnerable like this though. Only an idiot would use this moment against him.

The feel of his fingers tightening in your hair, the taste of him on your tongue, the vibrations of his groans echoing through your body, it's better than any psychedelic drug in the world to you. You can feel the tension in his thigh muscles, the way his hips involuntarily twitch, seeking more of the pleasure you're giving him. Jisung's breaths become ragged, his control slipping with each movement of your tongue and each press of your lips.

“Shit, lovely. Fuck, mm.” he whispers, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them again to survey the room.

You know there's no way he's paying attention to anything but your lips wrapped around him, and you're right. Jisung couldn't care less if anyone was watching; he'd check the footage from the cameras later and deal with anyone who thought it was a good idea to watch you suck him off. For now, he loves how amazing you feel as you force his cock deeper down your throat. He doesn't mean to make the noises he does, but how could he hold them back when his queen loves hearing him be so vocal? He can feel your smirk, knowing that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, savoring the taste and the way his body tenses with each movement. Every moan and groan that escapes his lips fuels your determination to take him deeper, to push him further into ecstasy. His hands fist your hair more gripping it tightly, to steel himself against the overwhelming pleasure.

"That's my lovely baby. Ah—yeah, gonna fuck you till you can't stand later, y/n. Do you hear me?"

You hum in response, the vibration of your lips sending shivers through his body. He whines and growls, balling his free hand into a tight fist, so tight that his knuckles start to turn white.

"Fuck, babe… gah!" He stiffens his legs, forcing himself not to buck up and make you choke on his length. He wants to wait until you've taken him all the way down your throat for that. "Ke-keep going. Yeah, nice and s... s-slow," he continues in a husky, breathy whisper.

Once you have every inch of him in your mouth, he waits for you to pull up a couple of inches before forcing your head back down. You gag and cough as he repeats the motion again and again. Your eyes water, and tears stream down your face from the relentless thrusting of his cock hitting your throat. He's fucking your face now, using your mouth like a fleshlight, controlling you by your hair. And you're soaking through your panties, coating the leather shorts with your arousal.

“Fuck, mm! Y/n... wrap your lips tighter. Mhm, just like that, baby. That's a good girl.”

You want to rub your clit so badly, but you'll topple over backward if you let go of the hold you have on Jisung's thighs. So, you squeeze your legs together tightly, releasing over and over while Ji has his way with you. His pre-cum oozes down your throat, steadily leaking like a faucet. The friction you're creating feels so good you could cum just from that. Your moans vibrate more, sending him into a feral frenzy. He feels his balls tighten, and he gets louder, grunting each time he rams his cock down your throat.

Jisung filling your mouth completely so harsh and fast is overwhelming. You can taste the salty tang of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva, creating a slick, warmth that coats your tongue. Each thrust makes your pussy ache with need, the pressure in your core building feeling almost unbearable. The heat of his body, the firm grip on your hair, makes your head spin.

His thrusts become more erratic and his grunts turn into desperate moans. You can feel the pulse of his cock on your tongue, the way it twitches and hardens even more.

“Daddy's little monster sucks cock so good. Isn't that right, gentlemen?!” Jisung questions loudly. A few agree hesitantly, not knowing how to answer, and those few would be gone by morning.

Why? Because how would they know that you're good if they weren't watching your performance? Jisung is a smart man; most psychopaths are. With a smirk and a moan, he thrusts upwards while pushing your head down into his lap. Your makeup is a mess, just the way you wanted. Tear streaks run down your face, and you're satisfied with your appearance. You'll be even more satisfied when he cums and even more so when he fucks you later.

“Every. Drop. Y/n. Swallow every fucking drop I'm about to give you. You ready, baby? I'm so fucking close.” he grinds out, gritting his teeth and his grip on your hair tightens painfully making you wince.

His hips jerk as he forces you down, the rough fabric of his pants scratching your cheeks, adding to your ruined face. Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of his increasingly erratic thrusts. The sounds of his grunts and your muffled moans create a symphony of depravity echoing off the walls.

Jisung's mind is a funhouse of madness. If you were to open it up right now, the maniac's mind would be full of murder, mayhem, and you. It's a joke the way you make him feel—the best joke ever. How hilarious it is that a woman like you can make him weak, make him shiver all over, and become a moaning, whining mess. Your lips look so tantalizingly puffed out around him he almost wants to coat them with his cum, but he did say for you to swallow every drop, and he's a man of his word. He sees everything through, no matter how tempting it is. The humming you're doing on his cock is driving him madder than he already is. Oh god, do your lips feel so good to him. Jisung growls deep in his throat, a guttural sound that signals his impending climax.

“Take it, baby. Take it, y/n. Right. Fucking. Now. Oh, fuck!” His hands force your head down as he shoots rope after rope after rope of cum down your throat.

It hits the back of your throat forcefully and pools there until you relax, letting the warm, salty liquid easily go down. You swallow every drop he gives you, just like he told you to, the action drawing a final shuddering moan from him. Another growl and he's quickly pulling your head back and picking you up. You gasp for air as he spins you around and lays your stomach flat against the hard white surface of the table.

“GET OUT!” he yells, and every man in the room scatters. The one with your bra still on his head tosses it onto the table with shaky hands, sporting a very uncomfortable-looking hard-on. “Fuck if I'm waiting to fuck you.”

Your tight shorts are forced down roughly, and he rams his cock into your cunt, making you scream. He’s rough, really rough, and his thrusts are fast, creating a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain—mix the two, and you've got the base of you and Ji’s relationship.

“Harder, Jisung, ah! Fuck me harder, please.” you beg him, and he laughs maniacally again.

He smacks your ass before reaching around and grabbing you by the neck. The slapping sounds of your bodies coming together are so loud that they cover up your yelps of pain when he does as you asked. It hurts so good you become incoherent; you don't even hear Jisung when he says that this will be all you're good for. It's a joke, his best yet if he's honest with himself, which he won't be. He'll pretend that he keeps you around just to fuck but he knows Gotham only has one queen, and that's you. He just doesn't want to admit that the way your cunt holds him and pulls him in, is the reason for his insanity now.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum again, y/n.” his legs tremble with each long stroke inside you.

“C-cum, Jisung! Oh god, I'm there. Right… right…” Inhaling deeply, you let go, moaning loudly cumming on Jisung's cock and he follows you, filling your cunt.

“That’s my lovely—mmph! Filling your pussy to the brim. My sweet, deranged cum slut.” He pulls you back into him by your throat, finding your mouth and placing a possessive kiss on your lips. “Surrender your existence to me, y/n and let’s watch the world burn, darling.”

“Everything that I am, Mista J you already own. Let the ashes rain, baby!” You throw your head back with a crazed laugh and Jisung joins you, holding you tight in his arms.

✧ 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱 ✧

@resi4skz @3rachasninja @moonlightndaydreams @rylea08 @hanjiphile @krayzieestay @oddracha @ldysmfrst

•If you want to be tagged in future posts let me know here•

#han jisung smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung x you #han jisung drabbles #han jisung fanfic #han jisung imagines #han x reader #han smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung hard hours #han jisung hard thoughts #han jisung oneshot #han jisung x y/n #han jisung scenarios

[satcrvz]

ME? JEALOUS?

lil thing for rin bc ive been slacking lately… first bllk post how we feel?

the two of you were sat down on the ledge of the malls water fountain as a way to take a break from shopping. "you said you didn’t want any! really—" he stops speaking as soon as he catches a male approach the table.

he strikes up a convo with you, very obviously ignoring rin. he was basically flirting with you in front of his face. you glance over to rin, and his expression told you he was surprised at the audacity of the guy.

"she’s good with me, thanks."

as if the guy had practiced this moment a dozen times before, he goes, "nah, but she looks good." you stifle a laugh, raising your hand to cover your amusement. get your shit together.

"dude? is it not clear enough that that's my boyfriend?" you go on, "or do i need to make out with him for you to get the hint?"

the guy is taken aback, not expecting you to speak for yourself. he lowers his gaze and apologizes while walking off shamefully.

"are you ready to leave?" he says while intertwining his fingers in yours. a smile crept its way to your face. no way he was jealous.

"rin, are you jealous?"

"why would i be? i’m just sick of sitting right here." despite his efforts to convince you he wasn’t, you could read him like a book.

"are you ready to leave?" he asks.

"yeah, i want to go to the vans store, but admit you’re jealous!"

"then that’s what we’ll do." you knew he’d rather die than admit he was jealous, but it’s fun to tease him when you get the chance.

#✧; satcrvz writes! #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader

[rachetmath]

Jaune Revenge

Winter: Ruby we found her.

Ruby: Cinder. Everyone it's time.

Yang: Ruby no-

Ruby: I have to stop her. I am the only one.

Jaune: What?

Ruby: It has to be me.

Jaune: Who the hell- who the hell decided that?!

Ruby: She is my problem.

Jaune: I know this- oh hell no she- Ruby!

Ruby: Farewell my friend. I pray that I return.

Jaune: Oh hell-

After a minute what seemed like hours of fighting.

Cinder: Yes finally.

Ruby: *barely catching her breath*

Cinder: After all this time… you finally die Ruby R-

*Boom*

Cinder: *screams in pain*

Ruby: *looks behind her* Jaune. 

Jaune: *throws the gun away and slaps Ruby across her face* The f*** is wrong with you?!

Ruby Ow.

Jaune: You really think I would let you steal my prey? My kill? After all the bull**** that b**** put me through. The f***!

Ruby: Jaune I-

Jaune: I had dreams. Dreams of when I have this b**** in my sights. As her life is now in the palm of my hands. Having her beg for forgiveness has I take what little breath she has from her now feeble hands. Oh God yes… 

Ruby: …. Um

Jaune: And have you learned nothing from your people? Penny? Pyrrha? Alyx?!

Ruby: Whoa Jaune don't be–

Jaune: Stop running off somewhere, prepared to die. We do not do 1 v 1. We jump people. It is the most effective means to win. You are not built for that kind of time. There is no shame in having a squad, especially for enemies.

Ruby: But-

Jaune: Like your uncle, he sucks. He has lost a one-on-one every time since Beacon. Winter, hit him. Tyrian poisoned him. Hazel could have ended his career.  Your uncle needed two other hunters to take Tyrian in. He even required Tyrian to fight Clover. Your uncle isn't about that action. 

Ruby: Well sheesh…

Jaune: Now you excuse me- *pulls out the sword* I will finish this.

Cinder: You weakling. You piece of crap. What are you going to do to me huh? Kill me. Don't make me laugh. You don't have the- *stab in her arm* Ah! *mouths is covered*

Jaune: Oh no Fall maiden, we are just getting started. 

Cinder: *scared*

Nora: Ruby, sorry we’re late but-

Cinder: *screams in agony* My legs! My legs!

RWBY: *shock*

Jaune: Nah-nah we ain't done yet. This is for Pyrrha.*beats Cinder down*

Cinder: *yells in pain* Help me! Help me! Ruby help me! Please!

NERO: *scared*

Jaune This one's for Penny! *Stab Cinder's chest*

Cinder:  *screams*

Jaune: *healing and stabbing Cinder repeatedly* No, you gonna feel this. Yeah. Yeah!!

NPRA: *Summer and Alyx are shocked while Pyrrha and Penny fist pump*

RHAW: *Glad they never met Jaune*

Adam: Oh it was good that I didn't try to fight him on the train.

Hazel: Even though I know I can beat him…. It scares me that he could have a chance of killing me himself. 

Ironwood: Oh so he finally learned. Thank God. 

Clover: Sir please-

Ironwood: We died because of these kids, Clover, I have a right to be like this.

Cinder: No. No. Not my eye. Not my last eye, please! *screams as her eye is pulled out*

Salem: *watching from a far* Oo she will die. Not my problem.

Jaune: *exiles* 

Cinder: *dead* 

Jaune: Finally. And Oscar.

Oscar: Um… yeah-yeah what is it?

Jaune: Are you Ozpin now?

Oscar: N-no. Nope. I'm still here.

Jaune: Your girl. Your problem. I am tired of being the third wheel. The seventh wheel really.

Weiss: I mean -

Jaune: Figure out what you want in life then we'll talk.

Emerald: Oh my God I have maiden powers. I was Cinder’s last thoughts. I-

Jaune: *readies his sword*

Emerald: Jaune-Jaune calm down. We are good. We are good. Best behavior.

Jaune: You damn right b****.

Emerald: Jesus what have you been through on that island?!

Jaune: Isolation is a b****!

Cinder: *in hell and curled up in a ball*

Rogue: How was your freedom as a slave?

Cinder: Shut up. And why are you here?

Hazel: Are you serious? He left you unsupervised, and in a family where you were put through extreme work conditions to survive. 

Adam: You were a slave and the only thing he did was train you. 

Roman: He didn't even get you out. He abandoned you. He is a monster.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #lie ren #nora valkyrie #blake belladonna #penny polendina #pyrrha nikos #oscar pines #cinder fall #roman torchwick #hazel rainart #adam taurus #rwby alyx #emerald sustrai #james ironwood #clover ebi #summer rose #qrow branwen

[samiiy20]

Tits, ass or thighs w/ stray kids (maknae line)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ot8 x reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐞: smut 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Sex, nipple play, biting, oral sex

masterlist II tag list ll hyung line

This content NOT is for minors!!!

This is merely entertainment, this does not represent any real person.

It is forbidden to copy or translate my work.

English NO is my first language.

Han: Tits

He enjoys seeing your tits when you're not wearing anything under your shirt

He likes to snuggle into your breasts while you stroke his hair and he can't resist taking one of your breasts in his hands

He likes to hear how your breathing begins to accelerate while his hands slide under your shirt.

The movie on TV was nothing more than background noises, the small moans coming out of your mouth were the only thing Han could focus on as he ran his tongue over your nipples.

You threw your head back when his teeth bit into your skin and you stretched his hair a little when he pressed his fingers to your nipple.

"It's so addictive" Han said without taking his eyes off your face, he moved his hips a little and you arched your back when his cock moved inside you.

You didn't know how much time had passed alone with his cock buried deep inside you, but your entire body trembled at the slightest touch or a small kiss on your breasts.

Han moved his hips again but without stopping paying attention to your tits, it was his vice, his addiction since he met you, he simply couldn't live without them.

Felix: Thighs

He always has one hand on you, he loves squeezing your flesh and feeling your skin between his fingers.

When you wear a skirt he can't take his eyes off you, he doesn't care where they are, he just can't help but look at your thighs.

Felix couldn't believe that you could be more perfect, but when he saw the combination of your skirt and high stockings he couldn't let go of you.

"Felix… I have to go, they're waiting for me" you said between sighs when he kissed your neck and his hands went under your skirt.

"Your friends can wait, angel." You bit your lips to suppress a sigh when he caressed your pussy, but your feet moved on their own to the bed. "It'll just be a moment."

You lay down on the mattress and held your breath when you saw Felix in front of you with his breath short and his cheeks red. You knew what I wanted and you needed it too.

You slowly opened your legs to let him see your pussy and he let out a breathy sigh, got to his knees and pulled your panties down. He kissed your thighs and left little red marks on them, he was so close to where you needed him, but he kept kissing your thighs.

"Felix…" you didn't need to say anything else. You let out a moan when his tongue passed over your core and you closed your legs a little in pleasure, but Felix didn't stop, he loved being between your legs, he could die between your thighs and he would appreciate it.

Seungmin: Ass and Thighs

He won't admit it, but he likes the way you provoke him too much.

Sometimes when he comes home and sees you lying on your back he will simply take a moment to appreciate the curve of your ass and how your thighs squeeze together.

When you heard footsteps in the distance you turned around only to see Seungmin slowly approaching. You sighed and turned back to your phone while swinging your legs.

"I thought you were asleep," he said, approaching without taking his eyes off your butt.

"I couldn't sleep" you shifted in bed and arched your back a little to stretch knowing he was watching.

Seungmin rushed over your body with his hands caressing your legs to slowly rise to your thighs and squeeze them a little.

"You need something?" He continued to squeeze your skin and you could only close your eyes and enjoy your boyfriend's caresses.

You didn't speak for a while and just let him continue, his hands went up to your ass and he squeezed it hard. You moaned a little and shifted, but his body on top of you stopped you.

"Mine…help me" you wiggled your ass and then felt a soft slap on one of your cheeks, you moaned knowing what was about to happen when he slid your panties down.

"Open your legs baby, it's going to be a long night"

Jeongin: Ass

Jeongin will always let you know that he loves your butt.

He loves it when you kiss him while he caresses your butt and he will whisper to you between kisses how much he likes you

He won't take his eyes off you when you leave, he can't just stop looking at the way those pants stick to your ass, so when you get home he won't be able to keep his hands off you.

“Honey, I need you so much,” Jeongin whispered against your lips.

You smiled as you gave the bed a little push, he never looked away from you as you undressed but when you took off your panties you turned around to show him your ass.

You heard him sigh and smiled when he saw it over your shoulder. Jeongin was quick to take off his clothes and place himself between the pillows when he saw you climb onto the bed.

You gave him a kiss before climbing onto his lap with your back to him so he had a full view of your ass. You wasted no time and sank onto him starting with a slow pace.

"Don't stop," Jeongin said, placing his hands on your butt without taking his eyes off the union of his bodies. You continued with what he asked of you until everything was too much for both of you. With heavy breathing you separated from him only to turn around and snuggle into his chest. "I'll never get tired of you," he said, giving you a kiss on the cheek before falling. in a deep sleep.

Tag List: @zuuhaaa

#stray kids #han jisung #lee felix #seungmin #jeongin #skz hard hours #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #kpop imagines #skz smut

[ramblingoak]

The Repugnant

Chapter Two: Setting Sail

Read Chapter One / Check out amazing art by @foxybouquet HERE

Your father always warned you that you were too curious for your own good. After hearing rumors of the pirate ship The Repugnant in the area you snuck out of your father's villa to try and get a peek at the dreaded pirate and his crew of monsters. But what happens when Captain Mary Goore gets a peek of you first?

Mary Goore x Female Reader

Warnings: vampire!pirate!Mary Goore and special appearances by Copia and Terzo, vampire shenanigans, horror, violence, no one is dead but they're not exactly alive either so ye be warned, um canon accurate Terzo?, nsfw 18+only mdni, 2,500 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the banner, collage and dividers!)

Your blood was on fire.

Mary had spent a few moments licking over your pulse, chuckling at your continued pleas to let you go.  At the first touch of their fangs your knees went weak and Mary settled more firmly against you to keep you upright.  The pain was blinding, making your mouth open in a silent cry as it seemed to build and build.  You had never felt pain like this before, never felt anything like this before.  Your hands clawed at Mary’s back but it was no use.

You were going to die in this alley.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind Mary pulled away.  You couldn’t stop the whimper that left you as his fangs pulled out of your neck.  Despite his bite only going on for a handful of moments it felt odd not to have them there anymore.  Like you were empty almost.  The feeling scared you, your mind wandering to the stories your nanny had told you about those that fell under a vampire’s thrall.

“A thrall?!”  Mary’s head whipped up, their eyes brighter than any ruby you had ever seen and their smile wide and dripping with your blood.  “That’s adorable.  Do you wanna be my thrall, little starfish?”

“I don’t want to be your anything.”

“You say that now but I bet I’ll change your mi–shit!”

Mary doubled over when you jammed your knee into his crotch.  Their grip lessened enough that you were able to shove them down onto the mist covered ground and escape past them.  You stumbled across the uneven cobblestones, desperate to at least get to the street.  If you got there you’d have a better chance of getting away and hopefully either finding somewhere to hide or one of your father’s soldiers.  

As you reached the end of the alley the mist became thicker and nearly impossible to see through.  Mary shouted behind you and you dared a look back right as you reached the street.  The only thing you could see were his red eyes glaring at you from the mist and you knew that would be something that would haunt your dreams for years.  You gasped when your foot got caught on a stone and you stumbled, bracing yourself to land hard on the ground except the ground never came.

“Steady now, ragazza.”  

The heavily accented voice drifted over you as you tried to steady yourself in the man’s grip.  You looked up to thank him, expecting to see a soldier but your words froze in your throat.  

There was nothing there.

“Wh-what…”  You tried to pull away from whatever had a hold of you but the grip was firm and a chill began to creep up your arms.  “Let me go!”    

“Yeah, Copia,”  Another chill ran through you but this had more to do with the monster now standing at your back.  “Let go of my snack.”

“You were supposed to bring her to the ship, idiota.”

“I’m working on it.”  Mary wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against their chest.  “Just got a little sidetracked is all.  Did her daddy get the note?”

“Sì, Phantom left it on his front door.”  

The hold on your arms finally disappeared and you quickly wrapped them around your waist.  Behind you Mary laughed and you whimpered when you felt their breath on the wound they left on your neck.

“What’s the matter, starfish?  Never seen a ghost before?”  Your eyes searched the mist before you, trying to make sense of what was happening.  A ghost?  “You have to focus now.  Just watch.”

As Mary spoke the mist before you seemed to get thicker, swirling and concentrating until it began to resemble a figure.  Your eyes trailed up from the cobblestones, taking in the man that was seemingly appearing from nothing.  He was still not entirely there, the building behind him visible through his body.  The only things that seemed solid about him were his green and white eyes and right now they were focused on you.  

“Ciao, bella.”

“Hey!”  Mary slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you securely against their chest.  “None of that, she’s mine.”

“I just said hello!”

“Yeah but that’s how it always starts.”

The ghost, Copia, rolled his eyes but you could see a hint of a smirk on his face.   

“We need to go.”  Copia took a few steps back, his form briefly disappearing into the mist before he was visible again.  “Before the spell wears off preferably.”

“Where are you taking me?”  You tried to dig your heels in but Mary was too strong, easily pulling you along as they began to walk down the street.  Ahead of you Copia’s eyes appeared off and on but he seemed mostly concerned with if anyone was following you.  “Are you…can I go back home?”

“Nope!  Someplace even better.”

Fighting was useless so you let Mary pull you through the streets.  There was random shouting around but you never caught sight of anyone else.  Occasionally Copia would disappear completely only to come back with blood dripping from a very real looking sword in his hand.  So many questions were building up inside of you but you kept your mouth shut until you finally saw your destination.

The Repugnant.

“No!”  You shoved at Mary with all your might, kicking at him when they lifted you into the air.  “Let me go!”

“Sorry, starfish.  You’re stuck with us for a while.”  Mary grunted when your foot connected with their knee, letting go of you with a curse.  “Copia!  Take her!”

You quickly looked up from where you had fallen onto the street, your eyes immediately meeting those of the ghost.  The moon peeked through the clouds and you were able to make out more of his face.  Hair that was blowing wildly around his head despite no breeze around, sideburns and then a mustache perched over a smug grin.

“Mi dispiace, bella.  Captain’s orders.”  

All the fight left you then and you didn’t say a word when the strange cold hands lifted you up onto your feet.  There was no telling what they’d do to you if you kept fighting them.  At least for now it seemed they were trying to get something from your father so perhaps you were safe for the time being.  You turned your head to look at Mary, shivering when you saw their ruby gaze on you.  The bite throbbed under his stare and you couldn’t help but press one of your hands over the still bleeding wound.

Maybe safe wasn’t the best word to use.

Mary started stalking towards you, their eyes glued onto your neck.  You shivered when they reached a hand out to pull yours away from the bite wound.  Copia muttered something behind you and Mary jerked their head towards the ship.  Mary’s grip tightened on your hand as the ghost disappeared, leaving only cold air behind you.

“Are you going to behave, little starfish?”  When you nodded weakly Mary smiled and licked their lips.  “Good.  I’d hate to have to tie you up.”  Mary brought your hand close to their face, sniffing at your skin briefly.  To your horror they stuck their tongue out and lapped at the blood that had gotten on your hand.  “Has anyone ever told you how good you taste?”

“Please…I’m sure my father would pay anything you asked for to get me back.”

“Oh I’m counting on it.”  They laughed when you tried to tug your hand away, holding it even tighter.  “On second thought maybe I should tie you up.  Drink my fill of you while you can’t do anything about it.”

“No!”

“No?  You don’t like that idea?”  Mary grinned and yanked you against them, one hand slipping around your waist and resting low on your back.  “You’re right, it’ll be more fun to have you put up a fight.”

Their mouth descended on your neck again but instead of teeth you just felt the wet strokes of Mary’s tongue.  They lapped at your neck slowly, cleaning up the blood that was quickly drying in the night air.  You let yourself go limp against them, silent tears streaming down your face while they worked. 

What would become of you on Mary’s ship?  Was it full of more ghosts like Copia?  Or were there worse things on board, things that you’d only be able to imagine in your nightmares.  Would Mary drink from you again? 

Oh don’t worry, starfish.  I’ll be tasting you again.

You froze when Mary’s voice drifted through your head, looking at him in alarm when he straightened up to meet your eyes.  When you started shaking your head Mary just laughed before starting down the dock towards the ship, dragging you along behind them.  You couldn’t help but stare at the ship in awe as they tugged you towards it.  The tall black sails disappeared into the night sky but you could just make out the jolly roger flag billowing in the wind.  Mary stopped at the edge of the gangplank, a bright grin on their face while they reached up to cup your cheek.

“Soon you'll be begging for it.”

The deck of the ship was chaotic.

You found yourself hiding your face against Mary’s shoulder, scared to see what was around you.  There were shouts, snarls, growls…sounds that you had never even heard before.  You couldn’t even imagine what they might belong to.  It was almost a relief when you heard Copia’s voice.

“Are you putting her in your cabin?”

“No, she’ll be too distracting.”  Mary wrapped an arm around your shoulders and lifted your chin up with a single finger.  “She can stay with your brother.”

“Terzo isn’t going to like that.”

“Yeah?  Well Terzo is in no position to dictate what I do on my ship.”  The vampire poked the tip of your nose before addressing you.   “You don’t mind hanging out with Terzo, do ya starfish?”

“Wh-what is Terzo?”

“Ah, he’s mostly harmless.”  Mary tugged at your shoulder and started leading you towards the stairs that led into the ship’s belly.  “Honestly it’s probably the safest place on my ship.  Hard to say what the others might be tempted to do to you.”

“What are…”  You dared a look around you, freezing when your eyes landed on something that could only be described as a giant insect.  The creature cocked their head and blinked at you before a set of wings spread out behind them and they took off into the air.  “I think I’m going to faint.”

“Don’t worry, starfish.  They might be tempted but they know not to touch you.”  Mary continued to lead you through the inside of the ship, past various doors until they stopped before one at the end of the passageway.  “Only I get to do that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Come on, we both know that’s not true.”  They began to move closer, crowding you back against the wall.  It was beginning to be overwhelming having them this close.  All you could think about was their tongue on your skin and their teeth in your neck.  Mary pushed their head up close, their lips grazing your cheek when they spoke.  “It sure feels like you enjoy it when I touch you.”

“That’s a lie!”

Mary easily blocked your knee and grabbed your hands when you tried to hit him.  You felt like crying when they spun you around to face the door to the cabin.

“There’s no use lying to me, I can already feel your emotions.”  They lowered their head and licked across the bite wound, their chest vibrating with laughter when you whimpered.  “Just imagine what I’ll be able to do when I get an even better taste.”

Mary had the cabin door open before you could think of an answer, shoving you inside roughly before slamming it closed.  You took a few tentative steps as your eyes adjusted to the dark room, nervously looking around for whoever or whatever Terzo was.  The small window barely let any moonlight in so you could just make out a bed, a dresser and a table with a couple chairs.  There were a few items on top of the dresser, one almost looked like a mannequin head but you were too scared to get any closer.  When your eyes finally adjusted to the dimness you were able to make out what looked to be a figure sitting in one of the chairs in the far corner.

“H-hello?”  You gripped your dress skirts in your hands to try to stop them from shaking.  “Terzo?”

“Buonasera, dolcezza.”  Your head jerked over to the dresser, startled when the voice seemed to come from there instead of the chair.  “Mi dispiace, I would have cleaned up if I had known I was going to have a guest.”

“I’m not a guest.”  It was hard to keep the venom from your voice but you couldn’t help it.  You looked back at the chair when the legs moved, one leg elegantly crossing over the other as you watched.  “I’m a prisoner.”

“Ah, so the Captain was successful then.  Bene, molto bene.”

“Yes, he kidnapped me.  Him and that ghost.”

“So you met mio fratello then?  Quite the sight isn’t he?”  Terzo laughed then and you nervously glanced towards the dresser top again.  “What you can see of him anyway.”

“Are you a ghost too?”

“Un fantasma?  Oh no dolcezza, I’m as solid as they come.”  

A horrible tingling sensation started crawling over your skin as you watched the figure in the chair straighten up.  There was something off about it but it was too dark to get a good look.  You couldn’t help but take a step back when they got up and began to walk towards the dresser.  The sparse moonlight caught the figure and when you finally realized what was wrong about them your jaw dropped.  

“You…you…”  

You couldn’t even get the words to leave your mouth as the horrific sight before you started to make sense.  No, not sense, nothing on this ship made any damned sense.  The sound of a match being struck filled the room and when you got a better look at Terzo as he lit some candles you stumbled back until you hit the door of the room.  The knob rattled uselessly in your hand, locked and unwilling to turn.

“Is everything ah, okie dokie, dolcezza?”  Terzo finished with the candles and then held the match out to the mannequin head.  You jumped when a face was briefly lit up in the light before the match flame was blown out.  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“How are you…”  Your vision started to swim as Terzo picked up the head, his head, casually holding it in his hands at his waist.  “But that’s your…”

“Sì, I’m afraid my head got separated from the rest of me.”  Terzo lifted his head up higher, close to where it should be on his neck.  “I’d almost rather be a ghost to be honest.  Or un mostro.  What do you think, dolcezza?” 

Terzo thrust his head your way then, his lips turned up in a bright grin.  You barely were able to make out his features before the room began to get dark again.  As your knees buckled and you fell to the floor you could have sworn you heard Mary’s voice in your head...

Sleep tight, starfish.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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